This one's gonna get a little....dark. Like I mentioned, it will be based off of the movie Obsession. And if you've seen it, you know it's no joke when it comes to the freaky shit.
Spoilers btw? I wouldn't recommend reading this if you haven't seen the movie yet. Cause they'll def be some out of context spoilers for the ending.
But yeah...Keep a lookout for this new one-shot! It's gonna be a wild ride~
What happens when a hopeless romantic falls for someone who no longer believes in the word âloveâ?
Warning(s): Nsfw themes, stripping, pole dancing, sex work, implied sexual harassment
Love is a spark. Much like a star, burning hot, bright. But the brightest stars burn out the hardest. Be it catastrophic, or a simple quiet snuff. Love was temporary, even among the immortal.
One's love lasted a millennia.
Another's last every night, then fades with the morning.
Both, experience the ache of lost love. But when those two souls collied, would that ache pull them closer?
Of further away?
"Charlie! I'm back!" A succubus announces as she walks through the doors of the Hazbin Hotel. In her arms was a box, and inside that box, was various decorations for a "welcome party". For who? Well for the king of Hell of course!
"I couldn't find many duck items that weren't totally...well, fucked up in some way." Not many "cute" things resembled what they would on Earth. "Cute" by demon standards were very different. There wasn't a duck in sight that didn't have horns, or sharp teeth, or way too many eyes.
"But! I did get paint, so maybe we could like, paint some ducks on the banner or something."
Charlie Morningstar met her halfway in the lobby as she descended the stairs. "Oh uh...Don't worry, I'm sure whatever we put together will be fine." There was no hiding the strain behind the princes' smile. "He'll love it! And then he'll love the hotel! Once I show him around, and tell him all about it, and that's not a joke and my dreams are actually worth while!"
The succubus' own smile fell. "Charlie, your dreams are worth while." She tells her. "I'm sure your dad will see that. You've worked so hard to make this redemption thing a reality."
Charlie sighed. "Thanks Y/n, but...it's not reality yet. We haven't really seen any results of my "hard work"."
Y/n sets the box aside and steps closer to Charlie, her hand gently falling to her shoulder as she speaks again. "Hey, you got a new resident didn't you? Sir Pentious. He wants to give the hotel a try and be better, he said so himself. That's progress, Charlie."
Charlie cracked a small smile at her words. "I guess so." Y/n's smile brightens. "That's right. Now, let's get this banner up, huh?"
Y/n wouldn't admit this out loud, but she was a little nervous to meet Lucifer. He never does show himself to Pentagram City, nor any parts of Hell. He was kinda a mystery. Though, several years ago, he was never far from Lilith Morningstar's side.
Lilith was the voice of demon kind, empowering sinners and hellborns alike. It seemed she had more influence than the actual king himself. Then again, Lucifer never much cared for sinners to begin with, so that played a big part in it. But after her sudden disappearance, Lucifer became more and more elusive.
"Oh, by the way." Y/n starts as she unpacks the box of decorations. "I might have to leave a bit early this evening. I have a gig down at Ozzie's and it always takes me forever to get there, and I can't really miss tonight. There's a big event going on, Asmodues is gonna be there in person."
"That's alright." Charlie tells her. "Tell him I said hi, will you?"
"Sure thing." Y/n nods.
Y/n has been working at Ozzie's for a few years now. It pays amazingly well, and Asmodeus himself is a great boss. Unlike a lot of creepy, scummy bosses in the stripping business. He lets her have weekends and holidays off, and even allows her to make time for Charlie's hotel.
Speaking of-
Y/n wasn't technically a resident, but she really supported Charlie's dream. After all, she owes it to her. Before she started working for Asmodeus, she was having hard luck landing a decent job.
Being a succubus, sex work was always an option. She didn't mind it. She had everything it takes to do it, so why not? But everywhere she looked it seem she was doomed to repeat the same pattern.
Get hired, get harassed by creepy boss, hook up with disgusting sinners and demons alike, end up getting fired for physically harming whatever sicko who tried to do something against her will-
At least with Asmodeus, she got to choose who she hooks up with. And she never leaves the lounge so if anything goes down, all she'd have to do is call for Asmodeus and he'd handle real quick.
And he has more than a few times.
Charlie's the one who suggested Ozzie's to begin with. After of course, asking if Y/n wanted a job working at the hotel. Which she eventually agreed to.
And so, here she is.
Working two easy jobs with two amazing bosses.
Eventually everything was set up and ready for Lucifer Morningstar's visit. It was...decent? For a last minute thing at least. Vaggie was insistent that everyone be on their best behavior, given how important this was to her girlfriend, Charlie.
And she may or may not have an authoritative issues going on.
...Wonder what that's about-
Anyhow. Lucifer would be arriving any second now. Charlie was mentally and emotionally preparing herself as she approached the door. As soon as she opened it, she was given a warm greeting by her father.
"Charlie!" Lucifer opens his arms and hugs his daughter tight, near bone crushing actually. "It is so good to see you!" Charlie laughs awkwardly. "It's uh, nice to see you to dad." She then clears her throat after the hug ends. "Dad, welcome to the Hazbin Hotel."
Lucifer takes a look around. "Oh wow...it's uh...yeah well, it's got a lot of character."
Rude.
Lucifer then directs his attention to the bar. "Ugh! What in unholy hell is that!?"
Again, rude-
"Just some of the renovations we recently made." Alastor said as he appears from his shadows. "Adds a bit of color, don't you think?"
Lucifer raises a brow. "...And you are?"
Here we go...
Needless to say, they didn't like each other very much. Back and forth bickering, Alastor fanning the flames per usual, and Lucifer feeling the need to constantly one-up and utterly dismiss Alastor all together.
Thankfully, Charlie intervened and decided to introduce everyone else in hopes to lessen the tension. She went around, and gave everyone's names until she got to Y/n.
"And this, is Y/n. She's been here longer than anyone. You know...the one I mentioned a while back when I was first starting the hotel?" Charlie says to her dad, already knowing he wouldn't remember in the slightest.
"Oh? Uh, yeah right. Y/n, a pleasure to finally meet you in person." Lucifer starts, holding out his hand. "So you've been helping out my little girl with...all this?"
Y/n takes his hand. "Sure have. Charlie's been a great friend to me over the years, it's only right I help her with all this." She gives him a look. "Pretty impressive work she's been doing, right?"
"Mhmm." Lucifer nods, his smile forced. "Yep. Redemption and all that, what a...a great idea."
Y/n's own smile fell as she pulled back her hand. "Right. Well, I hate to leave so soon, but, I have to get to my other job." She looks to Charlie. "I'll see you tomorrow ok?"
"Sure, thanks again for the help today, Y/n." Charlie waves her goodbye. Y/n waves as well before leaving. As she exits the main doors she looked back over her shoulder. "What a jackass." She muttered as she walked. "Couldn't have been a little more subtle with your obvious lack of support, your highness?" She scoffed.
After all of Charlie's hard work...How could he not be more supportive of his own daughter? He doesn't have to be thrilled with the idea but he could at least keep his blatant dislike to himself.
Oh well, it might not be the same but, at least Charlie has friends who support her.
Y/n hurried along to the Seven Ring Elevator and hopped on the one leaving for Lust.
Y/n rushed to get inside the back entrance of "Ozzie's" and ran to the dressing rooms to get ready. As she was getting dressed, another dancer approached. "You're late." She lightheartedly teases. She was a succubus like Y/n. Curly, blush pink hair that faded to a darker pink hue was tied into twin tails, that fell just to her lower back. Her hot pink eyes shine under the dressing room lights. The skimpy outfit she wore revealed her stomach and hips, where two sets of black star tattoos, one bigger and one smaller, rest right above the dip of her pelvis.
"What was it this time?" She asked.
"Creep on the elevator." Y/n sighed as she puts on her top, or rather, the suggestion of a top. Really it was just a tiny lacy bra that mostly only covered her nipples. It matched the panties she wore that left very little to the imagination. "I was busy strangling him with his own necktie after he groped me. You think Ozzie would consider that a valid excuse?"
The other succubus laughed. "I sure would. Speaking of, you better hurry. Big guy's gonna be here any second."
"Shit!" Y/n cursed before quickly rolling up her sheer stockings and slipping into her platform heels. "Wish me luck!" She says as she hurries backstage, waiting for her cue.
She got there just in time for the music to begin and the lights to dim. Y/n felt all eyes on her as she walked center stage to the pole. Her performances always brought in a crowd, she had more than a few fans who craved to watch her work the pole each night.
Wolf whistles and other obscene yells were thrown her way as she wrapped her legs around the pole, climbing up before gracefully spinning back down.
Y/n crawled towards the people closest to the stage, her tail swishing behind her as tips were placed in the cleavage of her breasts, and the straps of her g string.
Ozzie always took extra care to watch during these parts. Anyone who got bold enough to touch a little too long and push their luck, would be met with immediate ejection from the club.
Look don't touch.
A simple rule that most did not care to follow.
However, if you paid well enough? The dancers had the choice to take whoever back into the private rooms. Then they could touch all they wanted.
Within reason of course-
Once the tips were collected, Y/n stood, giving a little shake of her ass as she did, before walking back to the pole. Grabbing onto it, she grinds her body against the pole before swinging herself upside down. Her legs wrapped tightly around the pole as her arms gracefully fell back.
But what she saw when she opened her eyes nearly made her fall off the pole entirely.
Though the view was flipped upside down, it was undeniable just who she saw in the same booth as Asmodeus.
Lucifer Morningstar.
Y/n had to quickly regain the strength in her legs before she slid down. What the hell was he doing here? She's never seen him here before, and from how awkward the guy was, she assumed this kind of thing wasn't his style.
But there he was, clear as day.
Though, it seemed his attention was more on Asmodeus than anything else. They were talking, not even looking towards the stage. Good. Maybe? Y/n wasn't sure how she felt about doing all this in front of her friend's dad...
Thankfully, her number was coming to an end. So, she finished off giving one last spin before skillfully landing on the stage in the splits, causing an uproar from the crowd.
With that she struts her way back towards the curtains and exits backstage. She takes the money from tips and counts them as she heads back to the changing rooms.
"One...One fifty...Two...Two fifty. Two fifty, Nice." She says before getting changed for her next number. Hopefully Lucifer wouldn't be here for this one.
Much to her relief, he was not. He must have been here for Asmodeus then, which was more than fine with her.
By the end of her shift she was ready to call it a night, but of course, before she could leave she had one last job to do. Seems there was a big spender here tonight who wanted to "see" her afterwards.
Y/n put her tips in her locker in the dressing rooms before heading towards the VIP rooms. She adjusted her top before opening the door and walking in.
Inside waiting for her was a sinner demon. "Alright I'm sure they already told you before you got here, but I'll say it for you again." Y/n starts as she approaches him. "You get one hour, no kissing, and don't try any weird shit with me. Got it?"
"Whatever you say, sweetheart." The sinner licked his lips. "Now bring that pretty ass here, why doncha?"
Y/n rolled her eyes before straddling atop his lap...
After making it back to the hotel, Y/n hopped in the shower and began her nightly skin care routine. She kept the money she made tonight in the safe inside her closet, locked up tight.
Since she moved in she's easily made over a few thousand dollars. And tonight she brought in about five hundred more. Anything she made, she gave a part of towards Charlie's hotel for renovations and repairs.
She got to stay rent free, so it was the least she could do.
Just then she got a knock at her room door. Y/n wrapped her fur robe around her body before walking to the door and answering it. On the other side stood Charlie, still in her pajamas.
âCharlie? What are you doing up this late?â Y/n asked.
âOh well, I wanted to tell you some great news.â Charlie tells her through a yawn. âBut it got late and I ended up falling asleep. But anyway, my dad is totally on board with the hotel! Isnât that great?â
Y/n blinks in surprise. âHe did?â She asked, confused. âWell. That is great! Iâm happy to hear it Charlie, really. You think this will get more attention for the hotel?â
Charlie gives a small shrug. âI hope so! If the king of hell believes in redemption, why wouldnât anyone else? But more than that, IâŠI really think me and dad can start over you know? Really get to have that bond we never truly had whenâŠuh when mom leftâŠâ
Y/n places a hand on her shoulder. âThatâs good, Iâm glad for you Charlie. We can talk about this more in the morning, you look like youâre about to collapse. Big day, huh?â
Charlie laughs lightly. âSure was. Goodnight.â She says before turning to leave. But before she got far, Y/n stopped her.
âUh wait, one more thing Charlie. Have you ever known your dad to uhâŠuh, toâŠgod how do I say it?â Y/n stammers, thinking back to seeing Lucifer at Ozzieâs.
âHas he ever been interested inâŠah you know what. Never mind, itâs not important. Goodnight.â
Charlie gives her a confused glance as she watches Y/n close the door. She just shrugs before walking back to her room.
âWonder what she was trying to sayâŠâ She murmurs.
Inside Y/n flops down onto her back on the bed. She was just as confused as Charlie was. Even now, she could not make any sense of it.
What would Lucifer be doing at Ozzieâs? Has he moved on from Lilith? Was he looking for a casual fling? There was nothing wrong with that.
What got Y/n all worked up, is that now, there was a possibility of preforming in front of himâŠ
If he were any other sinner, she wouldnât care. If she werenât Charlieâs dad, she wouldnât care. Stripping for her friendâs dad wasâŠextremely awkward.
Maybe she could ask for those nights off whenever Lucifer shows up.
âIt had to be for business. Or a one time thing.â Y/n tells herself. âWhy should I jeopardize my job because of a little awkwardness?â
She shouldnât. Lucifer was just like any other demon. He had feelings, lustful feelings, like anyone else. Shouldnât matter who he is.
So long as he pays.
Y/n sighed before reaching over and switching off the lamp and finally turning in for the night.
Yaaay a chapter came out earlier than expected for once!!
Let me know how you guys feel about this and I'll consider making more. And ofc if anyone wants to be tagged, just let me know down below!
Warning(s): Prostitution, Implied Sexual Content, Implied Sexual Abuse, Implied Physical Abuse
((Quick A/N: This fic will have sexual themes, but none involve Alastor. I've said before I won't write any smut of him, and I intend to keep it that way. Every chapter involving sexual/dark themes will have a warning before the cut. Thank you for reading-))
It was the midst of the worst time of people lives, the stock market crash of nineteen-twenty nine has heavily impacted many and things were looking grim all around. People were loosing their jobs, families struggling to make ends meet, and there was no light to be seen at the end of the tunnel. No hope anywhere in sight.
Needless to say, people were stressed. And what better way to relieve that stress, that having a warm body in next to you in bed? If drugs and alcohol weren't enough, there were brothels to turn to. And within, the easiest lay any man could get.
Women to be had, for a price that is. Y/n, one of these women. Fallen into such a way of life, by a series of unfortunate events. Her parents dying when she was seventeen, then struggling to keep a job, therefore loosing her home. No man could save her from poverty, as she could never get a man to so much as look her way.
Marriage was never for her anyhow. Even if she did grabbed their attention, it would be unwelcomed. No man ever held her heart as she wanted them to. Well, there was one man. But that was nothing more than puppy love, a phase that she would soon grow out of.
Especially when she realized, he never held any sort of romantic love for her.
Eventually, she had nowhere else to turn, but to...this.
"The guys weren't kidding. You really are skilled, doll." Y/n paid little mind to the man speaking to her, as he clothed himself. Y/n attempted to fix her hair, her scalp still sore from his rough hands. No where near as sore as her body. She shed no tears though. There was no point in crying, not anymore.
A long while ago, when she was younger. When she lost what she once considered precious to men like him, she cried. She cried for days, as reality sunk in. That this was to be her life until the day she died. Used, tainted, a thing to please every man who'd own her for a night.
She cried until there was no more tears to shed.
But now, it was simply, life. Her life, one she shared with many other women here in this place.
Y/n didn't flinch when she felt his hands on her bare shoulders, his voice husked into her ears. "I might just tip you a little extra. You know how to please a man well."
"Thank you, sir." Y/n murmurs, reaching for her dress. "Just make sure you let Miss Dorothy know before you leave." Dorothy, while she did not own the brothel, she did manage it. She accepted the money from the men, then pays the ladies their share once their services end for the night.
The money was to go directly to her, if not, she would raise hell. She's struck a few girls for "cheating her out of her money". It didn't take long for everyone to get the message. Dorothy sees the money before anyone else.
"Will do, doll." With that, Y/n was left alone in the room. She sighed and stood, dressing and making herself look presentable for the next buyer. She walked out into the lobby, and looked to a nearby clock. Her night was almost over, just one more hour, and she'd get to have some rest at last.
Until then, she'd do what she normally did. Stand outside, advertising her body for the passerby gentlemen, making small talk with the other girls.
Eventually, Y/n went back inside when no one else called for her. She had ten more mentions before she was allowed to leave. As she was going to find Dorothy, one of the girls caught her.
"Y/n some well dressed fella is here askin' for ya." Y/n turned to her with a confused look. "He needs to speak with Dorothy if he wants to see me. I'm not in the mood to hear her bitching tonight, Irene."
"That's what I told em." Irene crossed her arms. "Fucker wouldn't listen. Said he would only talk to you. You best be careful with that one." She said before walking away. Y/n sighed heavily before heading outside. She was in less of a good mood, and she might say something against her better judgement.
But just as she was about to tell the man to 'talk to my boss or fuck off', she paused, stunned.
The man before her, was well dressed, his grin smug and confident, his gaze intently focused on her. Y/n's mouth fell slightly agape, she almost couldn't believe what she was seeing. She knew this man, despite how much he's changed. It has been over five years since she's seen him last. But it was him, she knew it was.
"Alastor?"
The man smirked. "Ah, you remember me. Good." He approached her. "I was a afraid you might have forgotten me over the years." Y/n gathered her thoughts, and shook her head. "I couldn't forget you, even if I tried." She tells him.
"Hm." Alastor hummed, his gaze traveling up to the brothel. 'The Magnolia', it read atop the building. Alastor nearly scoffed. "I didn't think you'd be here, of all places."
Y/n gaze drifted downward. "Neither did I." She murmurs. "Pay is...decent I guess. I'm fed, housed, at the very least." Alastor chuckled. "I see the bar is high. Is that all it takes to keep you content?"
Y/n snapped her eyes back at him, she scowled. "Excuse me?" She asked sharply. Alastor's gaze fell to a few women hanging around the entrance of the brothel. One winked his way, another waving her hand with a seductive smile.
"How much do you charge?" Alastor asked Y/n.
Y/n wanted to smack that pompous grin off his face. She doesn't see or hear anything from him for five years, and now that he's back, that is what he wants from her? She cared for him, loved him even. And he never once felt the same, and then they split with barely saying goodbye. And now he expects her to...
"My night is over." Y/n spat. "You really want to get off, then come back tomorrow. Or better yet, go fuck one of the others. I don't think I could stomach a night with you." She said before turning away.
Alastor grabbed her wrist, causing her to stop. "Is that so? Not even to talk for a bit?" Y/n scoffed, turning her head to him. "Oh yes, because the conversation thus far has been so pleasant."
"Y/n, I mean it. I wish to talk, that's all." Alastor's voice gave Y/n no suspicions of insincerity. After a moment, she sighed. "Fine. Let me get my money first." Alastor let her go, she hurried inside to collect what she was given for the night.
Tonight was slow for her, not many visitors. Therefore, not much pay. But it's not like Y/n had any room to complain. Even a little was all she could ask for. Afterwards she returned to Alastor, who was still patiently waiting for her.
"Alright, you have me for ten minutes. As you can imagine, I'm quite exhausted, and need some well deserved sleep." Said Y/n, arms crossed. "My, where did the polite Y/n go?" Alastor asked with a smirk.
"She died, cold and starving in the streets. Unfortunate ain't it?" Y/n rolled her eyes. "What do you want from me, if not my 'services', Alastor?"
Alastor motioned for her to follow him. Y/n did so, walking at his side. Neither spoke for a while, the sounds of the nightlife filling in the silence. Eventually the two made it to a more calmer area, with less people and less noise. Finally, Alastor spoke.
"So, how have you been?" He asks, reaching into his pocket and taking out a cigar. He first offered it to Y/n, who refused with a shake of her head. She answered him. "I've been much better, obviously."
Alastor lights the cigar and takes a puff. "I know it. I can't imagine you've had too many pleasant moments in that pitiful whore house." Y/n only shrugged. "Like I said, the money keeps me fed and somewhere to sleep at night. Haven't had many opportunities to live a better life. With everything going on, no one is having much luck with employment." She went on.
"We got three more girls working there this week. Youngest one is fifteen." Y/n mutters. "The look in her eyes reminds me of when I first started working here." She then shrugs. "She'll get use to it, maybe. Like I did."
Alastor hummed, bringing the cigar to his lips again. "Use to it?" He asked before taking another inhale. Y/n nods. "Kinda have to get use to it, you know? No use in crying over it anymore. But hell, some of them like it, to see me crying. Gets them there, I suppose." Y/n nearly missed the way Alastor's grin twitched.
Y/n leaned against a nearby wall, her leg rose to rest her foot against the brick. "And you? What have you been up to?" She asks. Alastor takes a long drag before moving the cigar away. Smoke trailing from his mouth as he speaks.
"Got me a gig down at the radio station." He tells her. "Working my way up fairly quickly. Had my first show last night, actually."
"Sorry to say, I missed it." Y/n says. "What is it you do?" She asked him. Alastor shrugs. "Anything that comes to mind, really. I've gotten more than a few compliments about my voice. Ladies can't get enough of it." He chuckles. "Pay me just to talk, I can't complain. Got a good taste in music too, and most who tune in agree. So I'll play a few in between breaks."
"I'm surprised you're getting paid at all." Said Y/n. "Where exactly is it you work?"
"It's not too far from here. It being nearby your place of work, is how I came to find you." Said Alastor. "Some man wouldn't stop going on about, some gal he had down at 'that brothel'. Truly, I had no idea the place was there. I tend to stray from such, carnal activities."
"They do me very little interest. Temporary pleasures, at best." Said Alastor with a scoff. "Thankfully, I've found something to indulge myself with. My radio show, that, is my mistress. And she serves me quite well."
"You ever actually try it?" Y/n asked. To her surprise, Alastor nodded. "I have. Once. And I must say, the whole ordeal is entirely overrated." Y/n laughed airily. "Perhaps you were with the wrong woman? Was she too inexperienced for you?"
"Trust me, my dear." Alastor tapped the ashes away from the cigar. "It isn't for me."
"Then why ask how much I charge?" Y/n raised an eyebrow. "Not that I have a say in that anyhow." Alastor grin soften. "If I had gotten a private room with you, we'd be doing what we're doing right now. Talking, catching up."
"A lot of time has passed." Y/n adds, a hint of sadness in her voice. "Despite the way I've been acting tonight, I did miss you, Alastor." Alastor didn't say anything at first, so, Y/n filled in the silence.
"Why did you leave like you did?" She asked. "So quickly, so...suddenly? You barely said goodbye to me before you left. You had me worrying I had done something to drive you away."
"And why would you think that?" Alastor asked. Y/n furrowed her brows. "You know why." She said bitterly. Alastor went quiet again, his gaze falling away from her. He held the cigar in his hand, letting it burn away on it's own.
"I couldn't have given you what you wanted, Y/n." Yes, she knew that. But she had to find that out so painfully. She would have preferred Alastor just flat out tell her he didn't love her, than say nothing at all, and leave her hoping. And for nothing at all.
Then, he leaves her all alone.
Y/n laughed bitterly. "If you planned to spare me heartache, you failed miserably. I could have accepted it someday, but instead, you lead me on and then, you disappear."
"I would have hurt you." Alastor tells her, still his eyes never meeting her own. "You hurt me anyhow!" Y/n angrily exclaims. "Rejection was far better than what you did!"
"Y/n." Finally, he meets her gaze. His voice void of any jest, his grin faltering. He spoke intently. "I would have hurt you. I couldn't bare to live with myself if I had."
Y/n sighed and moved away from the wall. "Like I said..." She walked past him. "Goodnight, Alastor." This time, Alastor did not stop her. He just watched as she grew further away from him.
The cigar he held, near just a bud now, fell to the ground. The heat that kept it alive dying down, Alastor stepped on what was left, snuffing it out completely.
Until next time, a silent promise.
"I think you're starting to become a favorite of mine, doll." It the same man from last night. He took his time with Y/n tonight, paying extra to spend more time with her.
Y/n placed a hand at her throat, nearly flinching at the contact of her fingertips meeting bruised flesh. As much as she wanted to complain, she was just too exhausted. Mentally, and most certainly, physically. She didn't feel like talking much, her sore lips didn't help initiate any conversation.
The man, Y/n memorized his name finally, Arthur approached her. His finger at her chin, lifted her head to meet his gaze. His touch now, a stark contrast to just some moments ago. His voice, saccharine sweet as he spoke.
"I'll be seeing you tomorrow night. I'll make sure bring extra cash again. I do tip you good, don't I?" Y/n nods, he speaks again. "You might even get out of this place someday, make a good woman of yourself."
Fat chance, is what Y/n wanted to say.
Even if by some miracle she does make it out of this brothel, she would never 'make a good woman of herself'. People knew her face, her name, her reputation. Once a whore, always a whore. There was nothing for her outside of this place.
"But I would miss that lovely mouth of yours. And of course..." Arthur chuckled, his hand moving down from her chin to her bosoms, to her waist, to her thigh...to her womanhood where his touch lingered. "The most precious thing a woman could offer a man."
"Your time is up. If you want to keep fondling me, it will cost you extra." Y/n finally spoke. Arthur only laughed, then moved his hand away. "See you around, doll." He says before leaving.
Y/n sat there on the bed a while longer, enjoying the silence. Relief, there was relief in these moments of silence. No half drunken bastards grunting in her ear, no filth spat about her body good or bad, no false promises of the few who 'can take her away from this place'.
Just, silence. Peaceful silence.
Eventually Y/n stood and began to dress herself. She still had an hour left before she could call it a night. Meaning she could potentially have another costumer on the way.
Creak
Speaking of...
"I must getting popular." Y/n said, not facing the door yet. "That's the fastest anyone has ever come in after someone else leaves." She didn't bother dressing herself any further. He'd just rip it off her anyway. She finally turns to the door, only to let out a gasp of mixed surprise and horror.
"My apologies. How improper of me, I should have knocked first." Alastor shut the door behind him as he entered the room. Y/n quickly reached for the bedsheets and covered herself. "What are you doing here!?" She exclaimed.
"I feel our last talk ended rather sour." Said Alastor, walking further into the room. "How about we start over?" Y/n scoffed. "I don't believe I want to. There's nothing for us to talk about anyhow."
"I disagree." Alastor walks to the couch in the middle of the room and takes a seat. "Would you like to clothe yourself before we begin?" Y/n felt her face become hot. Which she found to be odd.
Her days of feeling ashamed or embarrassed of being naked in front of men were far behind her. Yet with Alastor, she felt like she was that same young naive girl from before all this. Was it because she hadn't seen him in so long? They were good friends at one point. Friends don't typically see each other nude, especially if they were a man and woman.
Y/n, with shaky hands, moved the sheets away and reached for her clothes. She stole glances Alastor's way, his eyes were locked onto her form. Her brows furrowed. "It costs to gawk at me, you know? Is that really why you came here?"
"Who gave you those?" Alastor asked her, a hint of anger in his tone. "I never seen you adorn so many bruises, much less any at all." Y/n looked away from him and finished dressing. "You can't expect them all to be gentle." She tells him.
"You didn't answer my question." Alastor said firmly. Y/n rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. "What you gonna do? Track the guy down and give him what for?" After asking, Y/n caught a look in Alastor's eyes. Intent on doing exactly that. Maybe even more.
Y/n sighed before walking to the couch and sitting next to him, but making sure to keep her distance. "Don't try to be my knight in shining armor." She said, arm planted on the couch's armrest, her chin held rest in her hand. "You're not the first who pretended to care."
"I'm pretending to care?" Alastor looked over to her. "Why would I be here if I didn't care?" Y/n shrugs. "You tell me. You can't be here to only talk."
"But I am." Said Alastor. "I'd like to...explain myself a bit. Why I left. You're owed that much." Y/n glanced his way, staying quiet and allowing him to continue.
"As you know, the day I left, mama had died just little over a month before..." Alastor starts. "And my ol' man was nowhere to be found, not that his drunken ass would be much help. And well, my mind wasn't quite...right."
Y/n lifts her head from her hand, listening closely now. She didn't about that. "What do you mean? Your mind wasn't right?" She asked.
"I was a troubled kid, Y/n. Before you knew me, I had some...problems. I was prone to violence, took great joy in seeing other's suffering. I'd like to think I grew out of it. Pa sure did beat some sense into me whenever he saw fit." Alastor explained.
"Oh, and my poor mama, I hated to see her so upset over me. While I stopped my tendencies, the urge was always there. Long after pa left, after mama died...it was there...scratching, clawing, at the back of my mind..."
Y/n felt uneasy at what Alastor was saying. She never knew this about him. A part of her didn't want to know about it, that Alastor could have ever been that way.
If all this was true, he hid it well from her.
"You...you hurt people, Alastor?" She hesitantly asked.
"At worst, I gave a kid a good beating after school. But nothing that might end me up in the nut house." Alastor laughed. "Like I said, I grew out of it. Maybe when I turned fifteen? A year before I met you."
And for two good years they were close friends. Then a little after they turned seventeen, Alastor left her behind. Not even a year after that, Y/n ended up here.
"And what were you doing while you were gone?" Y/n asked him.
"I never left Louisiana, just moved further away from here. During that time I did some...self reflecting, I suppose. As I've said, those tendencies didn't go away so easily. I became unsure of myself..." Alastor looked into Y/n's eyes as he tells her.
"I didn't want to do something I would regret."
Y/n felt her heart sink at his words. Alastor could see the fear in her eyes. "I'm not asking you to trust me, now that you know." Said Alastor. "But I hope you will eventually. Know that, I would never harm you..." His hand met her own. "And I will not allow anyone else to either." Alastor's eyes glared down at the bruise around her wrist.
"Not ever again."
For those who missed it, in my last poll there was a question asking if you guys would want to read any discontinued or w.i.p works I have in my drafts until I return with new stuff.
Chapter two of this is incomplete, and Iâve not had any plans of continuing it.
However-
If you guys want more, Iâll try to work on it again.
I have a fic in my drafts thatâs just been collecting dust. And probably wonât be continued (unless you guys are interested and want more chapters)
While Iâm trying to get motivated again to make future chapters and/or new fics, would you guys want to read it?
Itâll be something instead of radio static (see what I did there hehe) until new chapters and fics are posted-
thank you @doe-eyed-fool I took one of your quotes and decided to draw it with my oc Felicity, hopefully that was alright, it was truly a blast to make a small scenario come to life!
-Madame
Picture of the scenario:
Also you may notice the lack of color, when it comes to make comics I'm going to be doing less of it, because it's exhausting so I thought I'd let y'all know.
I enter the house, trying to mask my disappointment before Alastor could see me. Deciding to call it night, I head upstairs. After bathing and changing into my nightgown, I take a seat at my vanity and remove the towel from my head.
No matter how much I tried, there was no hiding the shame in my eyes. I would have to tell Alastor eventually, sooner than later. But if I did, the fate that awaited my boss would truly be unavoidable. I was more than angry with him, but I didn't want Alastor to do anything to him.
Didn't I?
Alastor warned me this would happen. Mr. Williams did exactly as Alastor said he would, and took advantage of me. I blamed only myself for what happened. But still I didn't want him to die over it.
Right?
"Rough day?"
I look up a bit in the mirror, behind me at the bedroom's entrance, stood Alastor. I turned to face him properly, I couldn't help the pitiful look on my face. "Oh Al, I'm so sorry."
"Now..." Alastor started softly. "No need for sorry."
"But you were right." I sniffled. "I should have never accepted that promotion. I should have just listened to you."
"Yes, you should have." Alastor says firmly, yet gently. "I know what's best for you, dear. And I knew soon enough that man would try something like that." He approaches me and gently caresses my cheek. "Y/n. I know how much you liked that job, but..."
I sighed, nodding my head. "It's ok." I murmured. "I know you're only doing it to protect me."
"Indeed I am." Alastor hummed. "Like I'd have you back there where he could just make another move on you. No. I refuse to let it happen. So..." His voice dipped slightly as he continued.
"I want you to stay put in this house until I come back. Do you understand me?"
"Yes."
Alastor gave my cheek a gently pat. "Atta girl. And I trust you know not to go anywhere near the shed, correct?"
"Of course."
Alastor chuckled before starting off to the bedroom door. "Truly, I couldn't have asked for a better wife." Before he left, he turned to me. "Goodnight, cher."
I smile slightly. "Goodnight." I say with a small voice, watching him as he leaves.
I was content, at least, I had grown content with what he did in the dark. But deep down I still knew it was wrong. But I never wanted to admit it.
That Alastor could ever do wrong. I once believed he did, I knew that what he did was horrible.
But now I had grown...content...
I didn't loose my job, surprisingly. But I never did get that promotion either. Mr. Williams went missing, his sudden disappearance hung over the heads of every person in that school.
Everyone wonder what could have happened to him.
But only I knew.
And I was content...
That shed, the one Alastor had always forbad me from going near. Well, forbad me from going near a second time. It wasn't just the hunting, he also did...other things. Things I couldn't understand the first time I saw it.
Strange symbols, here and there. I didn't know what they meant. I still don't. But it frightened me. There were some nights I couldn't sleep because of it. My mind would wonder. What were they? What did they mean?
What was he trying to do?
It was none of my business. Not if he says it's not.
But still, I couldn't help but let my mind stray into that terrible curiosity. It was that same curiosity that got me in trouble the first time. I vowed never to give Alastor as much trouble as I did that night.
It would be selfish of me. After everything he's done for me, it's only right I follow a few simple rules of his. Staying away from the shed was one of them.
So I did. And so I would.
But...
Whenever he worked late, I would find myself just...staring out of the backdoor's window. I could just barely make the outline of the shed from where I stood.
I would never dare to go near it, no, never. But surely looking from here wasn't too bad, right?
Oh how I hated that dreadful hunting shed of his. Those poor things he takes in there...
I'm grateful he never lets me see any of it. I don't even like thinking about it. It only served as a reminder of that terrible night.
The smell...the bodies...those symbols...
"Alastor, what were you doing?" I murmured in the quietness.
'Curious are you?'
I froze, looking to my sides, then behind me, fully expecting to see someone. But, there was nobody there. I furrow my brows in confusion. Was I hearing things?
'My, you're a pretty little thing. I see why he was so taken by you.'
There it was again. I know I wasn't imagining it that time. And yet, there was no one but myself in the whole house. But that didn't stop me from calling out.
"Who's there?"
'Hm, just think of me as a soon-to-be friend of that darling husband of yours.'
"You know Alastor?" I asked the nothingness.
'Somewhat. He's been trying to reach me for a while now.'
"He has?"
'I'm waiting, trying to see if he's worth answering. But so far he's proving to be very promising.'
"If it's Alastor you're interested in, why talk to me first?"
'I'm curious. I never thought of him as the type to settle down. He's yet to lay a hand on you, unlike his other victims. Why is that? Perhaps it's because you're so...tolerable of his "hobbies", hm?'
I took offense to that. "He loves me." I say firmly.
'It that what he has you believing?'
Now I was really starting to get fed up with...whatever this was!
"I've gone mad." I mutter bitterly. "I must have. I'm hearing voices, very rude voices. You're not worth my husband's time."
The voice chuckled. 'Oh trust me, I am. You'll see soon enough...'
With that, the quiet finally came back. I sighed heavily before heading upstairs. Perhaps I was just tired or the stress of Mr. Williams forward attempts were getting to me. Either way, I called it a night and went to bed.
But as I lie there I knew that whatever it was I heard...was anything but imaginary...
Sunday morning, Alastor's day off. I was up before he was for once, and decided to get started on breakfast. I made a habit of doing this whenever he didn't have work or anywhere else to be. However, I was a little distracted. I kept thinking about last night. That shed, that voice...
I wanted to ignore it and move on, but...I just couldn't stop thinking about it. Where did that voice come from? A ghost? Some sort of evil spirit? It must have been. It wanted me to doubt Alastor and all he's done for me, to doubt his love for me.
I got angry just thinking about the insinuation. Alastor loved me more than anything. Why else would he have taken so well care of me for so long? Even when things got bad, he still took care of me, he protected me from what would hurt me. I trusted him entirely. And I loved him more than life itself.
How dare that thing try and convince me otherwise!?
"You'll burn it."
Alastor's voice snapped me free from my thoughts. I looked at the stove, and quickly turned down the heat. I turn to him with a warm smile, already feeling calmer by his presence.
"Morning Alastor." I greet him, handing his coffee to him. "Morning." He nods before taking a sip.
"How did you sleep?" I ask before turning my attention back to the stove. Alastor scoffed, taking a seat at the dinning table. "Hardly at all. Was too busy last night."
Chopping up my my old boss
In that shed. I pause to think my words over for a moment before speaking. "Al, can I ask you something?"
"Of course." Alastor nods, taking the news paper from the table and looking it over. I hesitate to even ask it, but I do anyway. "Why is it you keep me away from that old shed out back?"
Alastor didn't look up from the paper. "You know why." He said simply. "Or have you forgotten?"
"No, no." I quickly say. "It's just...when I did see what was in there...I saw...other things aside from the..."
The bodies
"I guess my real question is...Have you ever heard any...strange voices?"
That caught his attention. "Have you?" He asked skeptically. "Don't tell me you're going looney on me, dearest." I laugh weakly at his words. "No, of course not. Maybe...I'm just a little tired is all. It's been a bit hard to sleep after what happened with Mr.-"
"Darling, it's taken care of." Alastor cuts me off. "But you might have a point. You're overworked. That silly job is keeping you away for the long hours of the day." He then adds, lowly. "Where anyone could take advantage of you and your kindness."
I shifted uncomfortably. "You want me to quit." It wasn't a question, and Alastor didn't need to answer. I already knew.
"I'd take such good care of you here, you know that." Alastor cooed softly. "You'd never have to lift another finger, my dear."
"But...I enjoyed teaching-"
"Did you also enjoy being harassed?"
I flinch at at the tone of his voice. "No..."
Alastor sighed, softness returning to his voice once more. He stood from the table and approached me. His hands comfortingly holding my shoulders. "I'm only thinking of you." He tells me. I nod my head. "I know."
"Then you know, that I know what is best for you? Right?"
I nod again. "Yes."
"Then you will stay here...where I can keep an eye on you. Where you're safe...Right?" He gripped at my shoulders tight. I nod my head.
"Right."
Alastor kissed my temple. "That's my girl."
His girl. Yes, his good wife. His good, obedient, loving wife. I smile warmly. "Always have been." Alastor chuckles at that before stepping away. "I'll be in my office if you need me. In the meantime, how about you just take it easy for a while?"
"Of course." I nod, watching him walk away.
Surely, I had the most caring husband in the world. Always thinking of me and my wellbeing. How I love him.
I love him, I love him, I love him...
And I was a fucking idiot for it...
Guys...I'm starting to get serious writers block with this TwT
I'll try to pull through though if you all really want there to be a conclusion to this fic-
Y/n: Iâm going to take you out
Lucifer: great, itâs a date!
Y/n: I meant that as a threat.
Lucifer: See you at five!
Y/n: Is something burning?
Lucifer: Just my love for you.
Y/n: Lucifer, the toaster is on fire.
Y/n: I've already sent good vibes your way⊠theyâre coming. Thereâs nothing you can do to stop them.
Lucifer: This is the most threatening way Iâve ever been cheered up.
Y/n: Can you please be serious for five minutes?
Lucifer: My record is four, but I think I can do it.
Y/n: Okay, truth or dare?
Alastor: Truth
Y/n: How many hours have you slept this week?
Alastor:
Alastor: ...Dare
Y/n: Go to bed.
Alastor: I donât like this game.
Y/n: How do I deal with my enemies?
Alastor: Kill them
Y/n: That's a bit extreme, I was hoping for a more passive solution
Alastor: Kill them only a little?
Y/n: Alastor, stop! This isn't you, you've gone mad with power!
Alastor: Well of course I have.
Alastor: Have you ever tried going mad without power?
Alastor: It's boring.
Alastor: Okay. I get it. You've had a really hard time lately, you're stressed out, seven people died-
Y/n: Twelve, actually.
Alastor: Not the point. Look, they're dead now and really whose fault is that?
Y/n: Yours!
Alastor: That's right: no one's.
I'm back guys. Thank you for being so patient and understanding. It means a lot during this time <3
Eli Note! This is a series that I made a WHILE ago, before episode 4...So some things aren't canon BUT IDC. I'm gonna post it anyway. This is an ongoing series. If you'd like to request a chapter its 3 USD to my Venmo Eli_Harper77 (yes thats my only payment method unless its an actual fic) ANYWAY ENJOY
Chapter 1 - Kitty Kitty! (SFW)
Tags- Alastor hates cats/ Sweet FemReader/ Slight NSFW bc she took a shower đ/ Jealous Alastor/ Alastor loves his wife/ Live Laugh Love Archie
BTW None of these chapters are related. Just Alastor and his wife living life <3
The air in New Orleans was thick with late-summer heat, though the evening had softened it to something bearable. Gas lamps flickered along the cobblestone street, casting golden halos that shimmered in the humidity. Alastor strolled with his wife on his arm, his posture crisp and his smile fixed in that polite, foxlike curve that made strangers trust him and his wife adore him.
Her laugh rang out as he murmured something dryly witty in her ear, his voice slipping effortlessly between English and French as if the two languages were notes in the same melody. She clung a little tighter to his arm, the silken fabric of her dress brushing against his suit jacket as they moved in step.
And thenâ
A soft sound from the shadows of the hedges bordering the street. A faint, plaintive meow.
She stopped mid-step, head tilting. âDid you hear that?â
Alastorâs stride slowed, but he did not stop until she tugged on his arm. His smile didnât falter, though his brow arched with mild surprise. âMm? Mon amour, perhaps the wind is playing tricks.â
But there it was again. Another meow, weak and wavering.
Her face lit with concern. She slipped from his side, her skirts whispering as she hurried toward the bushes.
Alastorâs eyes flicked to the dark hedge, his grin sharpening just slightly in the lamplight. He followed, his polished shoes crunching softly against the gravel.
Alastor clicked his tongue softly, that smooth, chastising rhythm he used when she darted ahead without him. âDarling, vraimentâdonât go sticking your hands in hedges after any noise you hear. Could be a rat, or worse.â
She only waved him off, skirts brushing damp leaves as she crouched. The hedge rustled faintly, and thenâher soft gasp. âAlastor⊠look.â
Nestled in the dirt, a frail scrap of black fur lifted its head, blue eyes cloudy with hunger. A kitten. Far too young to be alone, its ribs pressed sharp beneath a thin layer of grime, tiny mouth opening in another hoarse mewl.
Alastor stilled behind her. His smile didnât falter, but his eyes narrowed ever so slightly. Cats. They never did take to him. As a boy, every feline heâd dared reach for had rewarded him with teeth or claws, as if some instinct screamed predator when he drew near. He had no love for them, and less for the memory.
But his wifeâher face softened instantly, a radiance that made Alastorâs throat tighten. Without hesitation, she scooped the kitten up into her gloved hands. It fit easily in her palms, a trembling little thing that burrowed weakly against her.
âMon dieuâŠâ Alastor muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. At least sheâd worn glovesâthank the heavens for that small mercy.
She rose and turned to him, eyes shining as she held the mewling creature close to her chest. âHeâs all alone, Alastor. Just look at him! He needs me.â
Alastorâs smile never faltered, though his tone carried that gentle persuasion he often used on witnesses he preferred silent. âNow, darling, perhaps it would be kinder to leave the little beast where we found it. Another couple may stumble across itâsomeone with⊠ah, more of a penchant for felines.â
Her head snapped toward him, lips pursed and eyes narrowing in that way that made even his carefully rehearsed charm falter. A glare sharp enough to slice.
The rest of their walk home was filled with the kittenâs feeble mewls and his wifeâs whispered cooing, while Alastor maintained a patient, if strained, grin.
When they reached the house, she nearly flew through the doorway, skirts swishing, shoes clicking over polished floors as she made a beeline for the kitchen.
âShoes, chĂšre,â Alastor chided lightly as he followed, shutting the door behind them. âYouâll drag in every bit of dirt from the Quarterââ
But she wasnât listening. Already she had set the kitten gently on the counter, bustling to the sink, twisting the taps until water hissed into the basin. Her hands moved with frantic tenderness, peeling off her gloves to stroke the bony little body.
He exhaled through his nose, resting a hand on the doorframe. âMon dieu, youâre going to ruin that dress. At least allow me toââ
She turned suddenly, eyes wide, pleading, the sort of look that twisted his stomach into knots. âAlastor⊠could you fetch the fabric softener from the laundry room upstairs? Please? Just while I get the sink ready.â
He paused, lips curling faintly as though chewing on a protest. But faced with those eyes, he could only sigh, shoulders slackening in mock defeat.
âYes, dearâŠâ
The grin stretched wider as he turned toward the stairs.
By the time Alastor padded back down the stairs, fabric softener in hand, he found her already hovering over the sink, sleeves pushed past her elbows. The basin was filled, the water clouded to a foul, murky brown that made his nose wrinkle.
She had the kitten cupped gently in her palms, cooing in a soft, sing-song tone he had never once heard her use with anyone else. âOh, poor baby⊠youâre safe now, hmm? Yes, you are, you darling thingâŠâ
Alastor crossed the kitchen, setting the bottle down with a faint click. She took it without missing a beat, pouring a small measure into the water and working it through the kittenâs matted fur with slow, careful circles.
The little beast meowed again, thin but constant. Yet it made no move to claw her, no hiss, no trembling struggle. It leaned into her touch, tiny head nudging her wrist as though it belonged there.
Alastorâs jaw tightened. He would have hurled the wretch back into the night if it so much as thought of nicking her skin. But noâthere it sat, docile, soaking, utterly content to be adored.
He turned to the window above the sink, the moonlight shining through lace curtains. His grin stayed plastered on, but irritation simmered beneath. He knew this would happen. His wife was not going to let the creature go. The little stray had already sunk invisible claws into her heart, and by extension, into his home.
Thenâsniffles.
He whipped his gaze back down at her. She was bent over the sink, still washing the kitten, tears sliding down her cheeks and darkening her lashes.
âMa chĂšre?â His voice slipped, urgency cracking the smoothness. He crouched slightly, scanning her face for signs of pain. âWhat is it? Are you hurt?â
She shook her head, breath hitching as she stroked the kittenâs frail body. âItâs justâitâs so inhuman to leave a kitty like this. No kitty deserves this, Alastor. No creature deserves to be so unloved.â
Alastor froze. For a moment, his chest constricted. Then, against his better judgment, laughter bubbled hot at the back of his throat. Not mocking, but at the sheer drama of itâhis wife, weeping over a dirty stray as though sheâd stumbled upon some grand tragedy.
He pressed a hand to his lips to smother it, shoulders shaking faintly. âAh, mon amour⊠only you could cry for a flea-ridden alley cat.â
The last of the filthy water gurgled down the drain, leaving a faint brown ring in the porcelain. She lifted the dripping kitten from the basin and swaddled him in a soft hand towel, wrapping it like a babe. The towel dwarfed the tiny thing, folds hanging loose around his shivering body.
Alastor pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling through his teeth. âAnd what, pray tell, are we to do with her now?â
His wife blinked, brows furrowing. She shifted the bundle in her hands, gently unwrapping the towel to peek at the frail body beneath. With a soft little smile, she tucked him back in snug. âHim, Alastor. Heâs a boy.â
Alastorâs grin twitched at the edges, his eyes narrowing faintly. âA beast by any name or gender is still a beast, chĂšre. He belongs in a shelter, not under our roof.â
She turned slowly, chin tilted down but eyes lifted up at himâwide, glistening, pleading.
He groaned, already lifting a hand in protest. âNon, non, cut that out at onceâdonât look at me like that. You know I cannotââ
He spun on his heel, facing away, speaking to the lace curtains instead of her gaze. His hands swept outward as he listed the faults. âThey scratch the furniture, they shed on the carpets, they leave hair in oneâs clothes, they stink, they demandââ
But when he risked a glance back, his words withered.
She stood cradling the kitten against her chest, rocking him as he dozed in her arms, a faint, content purr rattling his tiny ribs. Her eyes were still fixed on Alastor, shining and pitiful, her lower lip trembling just so.
The breath left him in a long, dramatic sigh. His shoulders dropped, his grin flattening into a helpless line before it curved back, wry and defeated.
Her squeal pierced the kitchen as she bolted into him, arms wrapping tight around his middle, kitten squished between them. âOh, Alastor! I knew youâd understand!â
He chuckled low in his throat, patting her back as though heâd planned this surrender all along. âOui, yes⊠of course, darling. I understand all too well.â
She lifted the bundle up toward her face, pressing a kiss to the kittenâs damp pink nose. Alastorâs smile twitched sharply, and he nearly gagged.
âDarling,â he warned, voice as tight as his clenched jaw. âYouâll catch something unspeakableâfleas, at the very least.â
Her eyes went round, lips parting in a little gasp. âOh! I nearly forgotâŠâ She lowered the kitten, still swaddled, then unwrapped the towel to reveal its scrawny body. The damp fur clung to its skin in clumps, its ribs faintly visible beneath. She stroked him gently, then looked up at Alastor with that hopeful spark again.
âWould you check him for fleas?â
His brow arched high. âMe?â His tone carried pure disbelief, though the grin never left his face. âI wouldnât even know where to begin.â
She tilted her head, utterly unfazed. âDo you remember when Janet next door had lice, and her husband refused to go near her? You picked through her hair for her because she was crying.â
Alastorâs eyes narrowed to slits. âI recall.â
âItâs the same basic principle.â She shrugged as if it were obvious, offering the kitten out to him like a peace treaty.
His lips pressed into a thin, flat line. The faintest twitch of his cheek betrayed his inner disgust. To touch the beast. With his bare hands.
He sighed heavily, a long-suffering martyr, and reached out. Swallowing his pride, he began parting the kittenâs fur with careful, precise fingers, his expression somewhere between resignation and revulsion. The creature, for its part, purred.
Seconds ticked byâten, twenty, forty. Then Alastor stilled. His grin softened just slightly, a flicker of genuine surprise breaking through the mask.
âWell,â he murmured at last, blinking down at the fragile body in his hands. âIt seems this wretch is very⊠fortunate. No bugs. No ticks. No fleas.â
Her squeal rang out, bright as a trumpet note. The kittenâs eyes fluttered open at the soundâblue, cloudy but vividâand tilted up toward her face. She gasped softly, lips parting, locking into that tiny gaze as if the two of them had spoken some wordless vow.
The creature purred again, a shaky, uneven rumble. She smiled so fiercely her eyes glistened, nearly spilling with happy tears. âOhhh, look at him, Alastor⊠he knows Iâm his mama already!â
Alastor tilted his head back, pinching the bridge of his nose as though the heavens themselves mocked him.
Then she let out another surprised little noise, hand pressing to her mouth. âHe must be starving!â
Before Alastor could intervene, she tucked the kitten gently into his arms. He stiffened instantly, mouth twisting, but she was already bustling off to the pantry.
âDarlingâ!â His protest warbled in his throat, drowned beneath her frantic rummaging. The kitten squirmed against his waistcoat, damp fur clinging to his sleeve. He held it away from his chest like one might a soiled rag, glaring down at it as though daring it to scratch.
She reemerged triumphantly with a dusty can. âTuna!â
Alastor blinked. âWe donât even eat tuna.â
âI donât know why we have it, but thank heaven we do!â she chirped, plucking the kitten from his reluctant hold. He let it go with a dramatic shudder, wiping his damp hands down the length of his trousers, muttering darkly in French about curses and vermin.
She knelt on the floor, pried the can open, and set it down. The kitten wobbled, paws slipping slightly on the tile, but the moment the smell hit its nose, it lunged forward with shocking vigor.
It buried its face in the fish, devouring greedily, its tiny ribs shuddering with every bite.
Alastor stood above the scene, arms folded, eyes narrowed into slitsâwatching his pristine kitchen invaded by this ravenous scrap of fur.
And yet, his wife was positively glowing.
She crouched low beside the tiny beast, stroking its still-damp fur as it ate, cooing every time it let out a happy little mewl between bites. The sounds were weak, pitiful, but to her they might as well have been a symphony. Each one made her squeal softly in delight, her smile growing impossibly wider.
Alastor leaned back against the counter, arms folded, his head tipped slightly to one side as he regarded the picture: his wife on the tiled floor, skirts pooled around her, glowing as though sheâd just discovered treasure.
He exhaled, long and slow, before breaking the silence. âAm I to assume,â he drawled, âthat I must go into town tomorrow and purchase⊠supplies for our new tenant?â
Her head snapped up, eyes wide, shining like a childâs at Christmas. âOh, Alastor!â she breathed, smile stretching so hard it nearly trembled. âThank you! I promise, you wonât regret this. I can just feel itâheâs a good boy.â
Alastor rolled his eyes heavenward, muttering, âIf by good you mean sent straight from hell, then yes, mon amour, he is exemplary.â
She pouted at him, lips pushing forward in that way that made him want to laugh despite himself. But she smoothed the kittenâs damp fur, letting it nuzzle into her hand before glancing back up.
âYou neednât trouble yourself,â she said brightly. âWhen you go into work tomorrow, Iâll stop in town. I can fetch a dish, some milk, maybe a little blanket.â
The kitten mewed again, tiny mouth still pressed into the emptying tin, and she cooed at him once more. Alastor pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed like a man already defeated.
She rose gracefully from the floor, abandoning the kittenâs side for the moment, and looped her arms around Alastorâs neck. Before he could question it, she pulled him into a deep kissâwarm, insistent, full of gratitude.
His eyes widened at first, startled by her suddenness, but instinct took over quickly. His long arms slid around her waist, drawing her flush against him. When she finally pulled back, she kissed the tip of his nose, grinning.
âHeâll be like our baby,â she whispered, voice tinged with excitement.
Alastor rolled his eyes so hard it was nearly audible. âMon dieuâŠâ
She only giggled at his theatrics, pressing her cheek against his chest. His chin came to rest atop her head with a resigned sigh, though his arms remained snug around her. âSpoiled,â he muttered, his grin curling against her hair. âYouâre utterly, irredeemably spoiled.â
Her laugh vibrated against him, light and teasing. âItâs not my fault you say yes so easily.â
He opened his mouth to retort, but a faint bump against his leg stopped him. He glanced downâand froze.
The kitten had wobbled away from the empty can and was now butting its tiny head against his ankle.
A disgusted sound escaped him, sharp and immediate. He jerked his leg back, stepping away as though scorched. âUgh! Non, non, non!â
The kitten, undeterred, blinked up at him once before turning its attention to his wife. It wobbled toward her and bumped its head gently against her skirts, purring.
She bent down, scooping it up with a delighted squeal, beaming at the little black scrap in her arms. âSee? He loves us already.â
Alastor pinched the bridge of his nose once more, muttering darkly under his breath.
-----------------------
The pipes rattled low, water rushing into the porcelain tub as steam curled upward, fogging the mirror. Alastor stood behind her, his hands already sliding along her waist, chin grazing her shoulder, lips brushing the damp curve of her neck. He let out a pleased hum, fingers toying with the ties of her robe as his other hand drifted lower, slow and deliberate.
She giggled softly, tilting her head to give him more room. âAlastorâŠâ
But before he could press furtherâ scritch scritch scritch âa desperate, pitiful mrrrowww! sounded against the bathroom door. The knob rattled slightly, tiny claws dragging against the wood.
Alastorâs smile froze, his brow twitching. â...No.â
The sound came again, louder this time, followed by another plaintive cry. His wife immediately gasped, trying to peel away from his arms. âThe baby!â
âThe what?â His tone dripped venom, but she was already hurrying to the door. He scowled as she swung it open, revealing the tiny black menace, tail held high, eyes gleaming with pathetic need.
âOh, sweetheart,â she cooed, scooping him up. âDid you think we abandoned you?â
Alastor pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering something foul under his breath as the cat purredâpurring!âand immediately nestled into her chest like it had been planned. She kissed the kittenâs head, rubbing behind its ears, while Alastor stared, aghast.
The tub behind him gurgled, filling higher, his plans for the evening trickling away like the water slipping down the drain. His wife plopped onto the edge of the tub, kitten in her lap, humming as she tested the water with her fingers.
âYou wanna watch Mama's bath? Make sure she doesn't drown?â she said sweetly to the creature.
She glanced up at him, doe-eyed, petting the furball who was kneading at her robe like he owned the place. âOh, donât pout. Youâll get your turn tomorrow.â
Alastor pressed his hand to his chest like heâd been shot. Tomorrow. The audacity. He let out a frustrated groan, dragging his palm down his face, his brow twitching with irritation. âI refuse to perform while beingâŠÂ observed by a beast.â
She just laughed, slipping into the bath with a sigh, the cat curling on the bath mat with a pleased trill. Alastor sulked in the doorway, arms crossed, glaring at the little intruder like it had just stolen the greatest prize in the world.
The door creaked open at last, and Alastor nearly snapped his neck toward it, eyes narrowed, ready to deliver a long-winded speech about how utterly ridiculous it was to share marital space with vermin.
Instead, what he got was his wifeânaked, fresh from the bath, hair damp and sticking to her shoulders as she toweled it dry.
For a fleeting moment, his frustration wavered. His lips parted, his hand flexed against the coverlet. And thenâ
Meow!
The cat darted forward, weaving between her bare legs, tail flicking up like a banner of victory. She didnât even notice her husbandâs smoldering stareâher laugh bubbled out as she walked to her dresser, the kitten looping around her ankles with worshipful devotion.
Alastorâs temple twitched. He could not recall a time in his life when he had felt so utterly⊠usurped.
She bent to rummage through her drawers, the lamplight spilling golden across her back, her hips, her thighsâAlastor had to clench his jaw so tightly it ached. And then, insult of all insults, she plucked out a soft little nightgown, held it before the cat, and giggled as the beast sniffed it, padding in circles like he was approving her wardrobe.
âOh, he likes this one!â she chirped, delighted.
Alastorâs eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head. He leaned back against the headboard with a long, theatrical groan, his voice sharp as a blade:
âWonderful. Truly splendid. Perhaps next, youâll consult the rat about our dinner menu? Or shall we ask his opinion on curtains as well?â
She only glanced over her shoulder with a playful grin, unbothered by his venom, slipping the nightgown over her head like she hadnât just stabbed his pride through the heart.
The cat, of course, sat primly at her feet, eyes shining like heâd just won himself a kingdom.
Alastor stared. And for the first time in years, he felt⊠second best.
Alastor lay sprawled dramatically on his back, one arm slung over his eyes as though the very weight of the world had been cast upon his shoulders. It was, in truth, nothing more than his version of a tantrumâa sulk that his wife had long since learned to recognize. The faintest curl of a smirk tugged at her lips as she set the cat aside and crawled from the foot of the bed, sliding over the quilt until she was perched astride his hips.
He stiffened at first, huffing when her hands pressed flat to his chest. âOh, so now you remember I exist?â His voice dripped with sarcasm, though the twitch of his jaw betrayed how much he liked having her attention back. âIâve been replaced, dearest. Already cast aside for a flea-ridden fiend with whiskers.â
She only laughed softly, leaning down until her lips brushed the corner of his mouth. âYouâre so dramatic,â she whispered against his skin, her kiss teasing, light, enough to make his chest rumble with a low sound that wasnât quite a growl but wasnât far from it either.
And thenâ
âMrrrow.â
Alastor froze. His eyes cracked open beneath his arm to find the wretched beast crawling its way up the coverlet, paws determined, tail swishing. Before he could stop himself, a strangled groan tore from his throat. With the speed of a man whoâd been inconvenienced one too many times, he reached out and plucked the kitten from the bedspread, dangling it in one hand like it was some offending rodent heâd found in the pantry.
âDo you see this?â His tone was incredulous, his expression a study in pure distaste as the tiny creature wiggled in his grasp. âItâs already on my pillow! First it stole your bath, now my bed, and nextââ he sniffed with exaggerated offense, ââit will be demanding my radio slot.â
His wife giggled so hard she nearly toppled against his chest, the sound bright and bubbling as she carefully pried the kitten from his fingers. âOh, stop,â she chided gently, settling the damp little bundle against her chest, where it purred immediately, content as could be. âHe just wants to be close.â
âClose,â Alastor repeated, rolling the word on his tongue like it was a curse. He flopped his arm back across his eyes with a dramatic groan, muttering, âI knew this would happen. Usurped in my own home, by a stray.â
Ignoring his theatrics entirely, she stroked the kittenâs tiny head, her expression softening in that way that always undid him. âWe need to give him a name,â she said suddenly, glancing up at him with bright eyes, her tone bubbling with excitement.
Alastor tilted his head just enough to peek at her through his lashes, unimpressed. âA name? I can think of a few: Pest. Nuisance. Menace.â
She snorted at him, rocking forward slightly on his lap so he had no choice but to meet her gaze. âDonât be cruel. He deserves something proper.â
Alastorâs lips curved into the faintest smirk, though his sulky air remained intact. âProper? My dear, the only proper thing would be to deposit it at the nearest shelter before it soils our sheets.â
But as he spoke, the kitten pressed its tiny face into her nightgown, kneading with paws no bigger than coins, purring like a motor. The sight of her melting into another fond smileâcheeks flushed, eyes bright, laughter spilling from her like sunlightâmade Alastorâs chest tighten in that irritating way he could never quite admit aloud.
He sighed. Long, heavy, resigned. â...Very well,â he muttered, drumming his fingers idly against her thigh. âName the beast, then. But donât expect me to call it anything other than âvermin.ââ
Her answering squeal of joy made him almost regret relentingâalmost.
She was glowing with excitement, still perched on his lap, her damp hair tumbling down her shoulders and the little kitten bundled to her chest like a prize. âOh! What about Charlie?â she gasped suddenly, her eyes lighting up as though sheâd struck gold. She pressed her cheek against the kittenâs head, her voice pitched high with delight. âDoesnât he look like a Charlie? Oh, but waitâno, no, perhaps Buster!â She giggled at her own suggestion, the sound bubbling from her like champagne, then shook her head rapidly. âOh, heavens, noâArchie! Thatâs it! Archie! Isnât it just perfect?â
Alastor had slowly lifted his head from the pillow, his face a picture of utter disbelief. He blinked at her as though sheâd grown two heads. âCharlie? Buster? Archie?â His voice cut sharp as a razor, dripping with sarcasm. âDarling, those names are the very dregs of the barrel. Iâd sooner call him Pickle Jar or Dustbin than saddle a creature with such dreadful monikers.â He gave an incredulous huff and collapsed back against the mattress, tossing his arm over his brow in theatrical agony. âArchie, she says! Lord preserve me.â
She ignored him entirely, the same way one might ignore a spoiled child mid-tantrum. Her attention was fully on the kitten, who had at last dried and was now a soft, warm bundle against her chest. âArchie,â she whispered again, softer this time, nuzzling her nose into the tiny tuft of fur atop his head. The kitten responded with a small, contented mewl before purring so loudly it rattled in his little body. That sealed it. Her smile was so wide her cheeks ached, and she kissed the kittenâs nose with such fondness it nearly made Alastor gag.
With a triumphant flourish, she released the kitten from her arms, setting him down gently on the quilt. To Alastorâs dismay, the beast chose the one spot most offensive to himâhis own stomach. Archie plopped down squarely on Alastorâs waistcoat, kneading with his minuscule paws and purring like a well-oiled motor.
âGood heavens above!â Alastor snapped, craning his neck to glare down at the animal now making itself at home atop him. âThis is the final indignity. I am not a chaise lounge for strays! Do you hear me?â His hand flapped at the kitten uselessly, though he dared not shove it too hard for fear his wife would scold him. âArchie, indeed. A ridiculous name for a ridiculous creature, and now itâs sitting on my person like it owns me!â
She only laughed, bending forward until her nose brushed his cheek, her grin positively wicked. âHe likes you, darling,â she teased, her voice sing-song and smug. âSee how comfortable he is? He already knows youâre his papa.â
Alastor sputtered, his face turning red beneath the faint lamplight. âPapaâ?!â His voice cracked as though sheâd suggested he take up tap-dancing in the street. âAbsolutely not! I will not be father to a flea hotel with whiskers! I am a respectable man, notâ notââ He faltered as the kitten pawed at his vest buttons, purring louder still.
His wife only kissed him quick and mischievous on the lips before leaning back, her eyes gleaming with triumph. âToo late, my love. Archieâs claimed you.â
Alastor groaned, throwing his head back against the pillow with all the misery of a man condemned. âOh, Iâll never live this down.â
--------------
Morning came far too soon.
The light streaming through the thin curtains was soft and golden, but to Alastor it felt like an interrogation lamp. He lay flat on his back, dark circles smudging beneath his eyes, one arm stretched lazily around his wifeâs waist. She was nestled against him, her breathing even, her expression sereneâas though she hadnât spent the night under siege.
The siege, of course, had been the cat.
Archie had been a veritable demon once the lamps were out. Alastor could still hear itâthe scurrying thump-thump-thump of paws racing across hardwood, followed by a yowl so guttural youâd think the house was haunted. Then silence. Then another set of rapid steps. Then another yowl.
And his darling wife had slept through it all. Sound as the grave.
Alastor had told himself he didnât mind. In fact, he rather preferred her staying nestled against him instead of curling around the damn beast. It was the one small mercy of the eveningâthat sheâd chosen his warmth and not the catâs. But still, the racket gnawed at his patience until it was paper-thin.
At one point, sometime near the dead of night, the bed had shifted beneath a new weight. Alastor opened his eyes to find two glinting eyes staring back at him from the darkness. Archie. The creature crouched at the end of the bed, tail twitching, gaze fixed like a hunterâs.
Alastor shifted his legs under the blanketâjust slightly. A mistake.
Archie lunged. Tiny claws snagged fabric, a triumphant little war-cry yowled into the silence. Alastorâs temper finally broke. He sat up with a hiss, snatched the kitten by the nape with all the disdain of a man handling raw sewage, and deposited it outside their bedroom door.
Peace lasted approximately thirty-seven seconds.
The scratching began. Then the pitiful mewling. A crescendo of pathetic sounds that grated against Alastorâs nerves until he was compelled to rise again, dragging himself to the door. He opened it just enough, glaring down at the wide-eyed offender. Archie slipped back in, tail high, looking smug as sin before tearing off into the parlor for another midnight sprint.
By dawn, Alastor had given up entirely.
Now, with the soft sound of his wife breathing against his chest, he stared at the ceiling and muttered through clenched teeth, âOne day in this house and heâs already plotting my demise.â
She stirred against him with a soft little hum, then stretched like a cat herself, arms rising above her head as she sighed happily. Her lashes fluttered open, and a smile tugged at her lipsâshe looked as fresh and rested as though sheâd spent the night at a countryside spa rather than in a house that had been turned into a racetrack.
As if summoned by her very breath, Archie came flying into the room. His tiny paws hit the mattress with a bounce, and in an instant, he was crawling up toward her face. He let out a loud, demanding meow! before nudging his damp nose right against hers.
She broke into a sleepy giggle, her hand instinctively rising to cradle the little creature. âGood morning, Archie,â she cooed, voice still husky with sleep.
Alastor, however, had had enough. With a guttural groan, he sat up and seized the kitten by the scruff, plucking it from her grasp like one might dispose of a rat. He held it at armâs length, his expression one of long-suffering disgust.
âNon, non, non! Absolutely not! Youâve no notion what torment this fiend has wrought upon me while you slumbered like an angel.â His voice was sharp, clipped, every syllable dripping with annoyance as he deposited Archie unceremoniously off the side of the bed. âAll night, it was! Galloping about like a cavalry charge, yowling like a banshee, andâyes, donât you smirk at meâattacking my legs beneath the blanket as though they were fresh quarry!â
She covered her mouth, her laughter muffled but still spilling through her fingers. âDarling, you exaggerateââ
But her defense was cut short as Archie, undeterred, bounded back up onto the mattress in a single leap. With remarkable boldness, the kitten trotted straight back to his wifeâs lap, tail curling proudly as he let out another triumphant mewl.
Alastor froze, eyes narrowing, lips pulling into a thin, furious line. âYou see?â he snapped, pointing a finger as if delivering a guilty verdict. âThe beast mocks me openly! In my own home!â
----------
The smell of butter and toast lingered through the kitchen, mingling with the faint crackle of the radio in the parlor. Morning sunlight streamed through the lace curtains, painting the linoleum floor in delicate squares. Their little home was alive with domestic warmthâthe clatter of dishes, the rustle of newspaper, the rhythmic hum of a day beginning.
Alastor sat at the kitchen table, legs neatly crossed, the New Orleans paper spread before him. Every so often, his sharp voice cut the air with a scoff or a derisive hum. âHah! Utter nonsense. Can you believe they actually printed this?â he muttered, clicking his tongue. He gave the paper a little snap before leaning back in his chair, eyes narrowing behind his glasses.
At the sink, his wife stood in her simple morning frock, sleeves rolled to her elbows, hands sunk in warm sudsy water as she scrubbed the last of the plates. Her hair was pinned back loosely, soft tendrils escaping to frame her face. Archie, the uninvited new lodger of the house, had plopped himself directly atop her shoes. His round little body was sprawled across her feet like a stubborn weight, tail flicking lazily, the faint rumble of his purring almost drowned by the clink of dishes.
âArchie,â she laughed gently, peering down at him as he butted his head against her ankle, âyouâre going to make me trip, you little thing.â
Alastor lowered the paper just enough to glare at the animal on the floor, then returned his gaze to the columns. âOf course he is. Sabotage is his favorite pastime.â
She smiled at the sarcasm, shaking her head, and rinsed another plate. âI mean to go into town today,â she said conversationally, lifting the dish to drip dry before setting it on the rack. âArchie needs a few things. A litter box, proper food, a water and food dish. Perhaps a toy or two.â
Alastor peered over the top of his newspaper, his brow twitching. âA toy?â
âWell yes,â she said, her voice light and practical, âyou donât expect him to spend his days merely tormenting you, do you? Heâll need something to keep him occupied.â
He folded the paper halfway down, lips quirking into the sharp ghost of a smile. âIâd much prefer he occupied himself outside.â
Her hand paused in the soapy water, and she gave him a knowing look over her shoulder. âAlastorâŠâ
âMm?â he replied smoothly, snapping the paper upright again, though she could hear the amusement laced in his tone.
âYouâre not tossing him out.â
He let out a little hum, the sound of a man conceding without actually saying it. Archie, oblivious to the tension his mere existence caused, stretched luxuriously across her feet and began grooming himself. She gave a soft giggle, wiping her hands on a towel before leaning down to stroke behind his ears.
âSee? Heâs happy here,â she said warmly, earning a loud, satisfied purr from the cat.
Alastor muttered something under his breathâsomething about coddling pestsâbut the sharpness in his voice was dulled. He lowered the paper again, this time to watch her as she smiled down at the cat, her whole face soft with affection.
And though he would never say it aloud, there was a flicker of something begrudgingly fond behind his eyes.
