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@fam2000-blog
After watching the new Helluva Boss short, an idea struck me! What if I.M.P has to solve a mystery, so Moxxie and Stolas imagine themselves as detectives in a gritty noir film? They're acting as the narrators, there's always someone in the background playing the saxophone, everything is in black and white, and Millie or Blitzø are described as the seductive femme fatales.
It's official, I'm 26 years old now. I had a great time with my family at a restaurant and going shopping. And the day was topped off with this brown butter cookie and caramel cake with wildberry lavender ice cream.
Hello Bee. It's nice to meet you. I'm new to the snz kink community, and I'm trying to meet other people in the community. I also really like illness and whump stuff as well.
hi!! welcome to the snzblr community! lots of very cool chill people here! were definitely happy to have you :)
I think I'm gonna like this community.
I had my first ever sneeze dream! Blit/zø and St/olas were out on a date, but then St/olas fell into a river! When they return to I.M.P., St/olas is a mess, all shaky and sniffly. Every time he tries to answer the phone, he has to stop talking to sneeze. Maybe Blit/zø walks by and gives him a blanket and some fancy pants tea. I wonder if St/olas makes little hoot sounds when he sneezes, like a "Achooot!" or "Heshooot!"
I'm surprised there aren't that many sickfics or snzfics of Bax/ter yet. I might just have to write my own. I like to think of his light lure flickering when he's ill and flashing brightly whenever he sneezes. Not sure if he'd have his own signature sneeze, maybe something along the lines of "hgxxtchu!"
New sickfic on AO3
It's by one of your favorite authors!
It's for one of your favorite ships!
T̶͙̙̅͋̐̾͜ḧ̸̡̩́̌̊̀e̷̞̖̐ ̵̺͌̕̕͜w̴̛̤̃̐r̸̯̗̳̈́͆̊̎ọ̶͇̩̿n̵͚͖̻̾̄͘g̸̤̀̈́ ̴͉͛̐c̵͔̦̼͇̃͆̉́h̵͍̪͑å̵̪͙̮̅͊͝ř̵͚͙͖̞á̶͇̦̥̓̈̚c̴̝͎̑͒͆t̷̛̺̃̅e̷̡̟͚͗̎̾́r̴̩̰͊̉͝͝ͅ ̴̛͍͆ḭ̶͚̠̆̈́̾̌ș̴̩͚͙̌ ̴̰̃̒͝s̶͎̰̫̠͐̓̃͒i̶̱͝c̵̟̜̰̿̀̀̓k̷͍͗̀̂̕
A gift for @maladyinpink . They have been such a good friend, and I wanted to show my support, so I drew a scene from three of her audio dramas. If you like sneezing and Hazbin Hotel, check out her videos; she is really talented.
I hope you like it, Pink.
I drew this to help with my anatomy and physiology of livestock class, and I thought I'd share it in case it proved useful for anyone else.
It's my 10 year anniversary on Tumblr 🥳
Here's to another year of art and making friends!
Do you think you could draw Emmy doing the Akira motorcycle slide with her motorbike?
Sure
Woohoo!
1. Fist: Make a fist around the epi-pen, don’t place your thumb/fingers over either end
2. Flick the blue cap off
3. Fire. Press down into the outer thigh (the big muscle in there), hold for 10 seconds before removing (the orange cap will cover the needle). Bare skin is best but the epi-pen will go through clothing. Avoid pockets and seams.
- Ring an ambulance even if everything seems to be fine!
Oh my god. So as someone who has to carry an epipen EVERYWHERE I am so happy to see that there’s an info post about them. Like in the extreme case that I can’t inject myself, somebody else would have to do it, but nobody knows how to do it! Thank you, this may just save my life some day.
Don’t be wimpy about it, either. I know friends who are like, “but idk if I could stab you with a needle!” Please stab me with the needle, don’t be hesitant about it.
In my case (I can’t speak for all allergies), an epi buys me 20 minutes of breathing to get to the hospital. It is not a magic bullet, it’s a few critical minutes to help get me where I need to go.
For those who don’t know, people with serious food allergies carry epinephrine which is an adrenaline shot just in case they have anaphylaxis, which is a life threatening allergic attack. This shot is life-saving and must be administered to someone who is having an anaphylactic attack as SOON AS POSSIBLE, because an extra waited minute could mean their life.
It doesn’t hurt much at all to use this needle. The first time I used mine, I didn’t even feel it. But be sure to stab it IN THE OUTER THIGH. Do not stick it anywhere else or you could seriously hurt or kill someone. Just right to the outside of the thigh and then call the ambulance - even if your friend starts doing better, they could have a biphasic reaction, meaning a reaction that comes back (or they may need a second dose, be on the look out). If your friend has an epipen, then they have an epipen trainer that doesn’t have a needle and you can try it out just to be sure you know how to use the real thing if you have to. I’d also advise holding it a few more seconds then 10, maybe go for 14 just to be sure all the medicine is administered and that you didn’t count too fast - that’s what I did.
Here’s a graphic of where to stick it:
THANK YOU FOR THE GRAPHIC I was about to ask because my mom carries one around and so do some of my friends and I wanted to make sure I would do it right if I ever needed to!
Learn about this or get a refresher, if you’re not already familiar.
“I don’t want to stab you” they’d be dead otherwise. Stab em.
This post specifies food allergies but it’s for any kind of anaphylactic allergy: my wife has one for her wasp/yellow jacket sting allergy.
I don’t have a lot of followers, but this absolutely important for everyone to know. You never know when this info could save a life.
Of all the angels in heaven to catch a cold, it had to be Abel. After a long day of mishaps and kitchen disasters, Pentious and Emily fell asleep alongside a sick Abel. Sera came by to check on Abel, but she saw no need to stay since he was already being well taken care of.
This drawing goes with a fanfic I wrote for AO3 and Tumblr. If you would like to read it, here is the first chapter, both for AO3 and Tumblr. AO3 link
Tumblr link
Heavenly Sniffles Ch. 3
Word count: 4.5 k
The storm continued to pour down buckets of rain, but they could not drown out Emily's cries for Abel. Winners watched as the seraphim flew through the sky, checking every nook and cranny. But there was no sight of him; none of the residents of Heaven Emily had talked to had seen the angel all day.
She would have continued flying, but her wings were growing heavy from the water. Seeking shelter under a gazebo, she shook out her feathers like a wet dog. When that wasn’t enough, she wrung out her dress like a used towel. Partially dry, she sat down on the bench, listening to the rain. The drops pelted the wooden roof, then slid down like the tiniest waterfalls. It was the kind of rain that wasn’t too harsh, but it wasn’t a drizzle. Emily loved these rainy days, watching the raindrops collect on the leaves and the rainbow that followed, but all she could think about was Abel. He was off somewhere, miserable and soaked to the bone.
And it’s all my fault, Emily thought.
She curled into herself like an armadillo, her face pressed into her soaked dress. The cold fabric soon grew hot from her quickening breath and watering eyes. Salty tears streamed down her cheeks as she struggled to keep her sobs muffled. Amid her sobbing, something feathery and smooth brushed against her knee. A single eye peeked out of her halo and saw a winged egg smiling at her. She lifted her head for a better look, and the egg seized the chance to nuzzle her tear-soaked cheek.
“Emily?”
Emily turned around at the source. There, in the rain, stood Sir Pentious, holding an umbrella, with his Egg Bois huddled close to stay dry. She would have been happy to see her friend if she weren’t so aware of how much of a mess she must have looked.
“Pentious! I uh-I…” Emily stuttered as she quickly wiped away the still-flowing tears. “I didn't expect to run into you.”
Without a word, Sir Pentious slithered under the awning, a handkerchief already out for Emily, which she gratefully accepted. While Emily dried her eyes, the other Egg Bois joined their friend on Emily’s lap. Emily looked down at her now full lap with all her creations looking up with their giant eyes. Sir Pentious furled his umbrella and gave it a few shakes to loosen the raindrops before setting it aside. Pentious smiled as he watched his heavenly Eggs comforting Emily, but he couldn’t help wondering why she needed comfort.
“Are you okay?” Pentious asked.
Emily kept her gaze down. She wasn’t sure if it was exhaustion or shame, but she couldn’t bring herself to raise her head. Rain splattering against the wood filled the silence. It should have been relaxing, but all it did was feel like a reminder of why she was out there. Abel was probably stuck in the rain, shivering in the cold and wet.
“Did sssomething happen?”
“It’s a long story,” Emily mumbled out, still not able to bring herself to look Pentious in the eyes.
Pentious took a seat next to her. “I have time.”
Emily sighed, realizing she was not going to escape this conversation. She might as well get it over with.
“Well, it all started this morning when Sera asked me where Abel was…” She then proceeded to tell a tale of exhaustion, mishaps, and hurt feelings. Pentious remained quiet through most of the explanation, apart from the occasional question.
“So, you’ve been searching for him in this storm?”
“Yeah, but I’ve looked everywhere,” Emily said, frazzled. “I can’t think of where he could be. Not that he would want to see me.” Her nervous energy soon dissolved and returned to depression. She wrapped her wings around her curled body, running her fingers through the feathers.
“All I had to do was let him say what he wanted, but I got too caught up in my own excitement. Again. Abel’s right, I just made things worse,” Emily concluded.
But Pentious gave a disapproving hiss.
“Miss Emily, I will not allow you to wallow in this self-hatred. Yes, you should have stopped and let Abel say what he wanted, but beating yourself up over it won’t sssolve anything.”
Emily pulled back her wings to get a better look at Pentious, who sat straight with his hands on his hips, a sense of confidence radiating from him in waves. This was a side of Pentious she had not seen, but unlike Abel, she didn’t feel intimidated. That confident aura soon softened at the edges as he offered her his hand, which she accepted.
“You are one of the kindest, sinceressst seraphims I have ever met,” Pentious said as he wiped away a fresh tear from Emily’s gray cheek.
The little seraphim inched closer to the snake until she rested her cheek on his shoulder. Tears still flowed down her cheeks, soaking into Pentious’s striped suit. Emily would have been apologetic for ruining his fancy clothes if she weren't too caught up in her head to notice. If Pentious noticed, he didn't mind as he gently patted her palm.
“Now then,” Pentious pushed himself off the bench, “we're not going to get anything done sitting around.”
Emily remained sitting as she digested what Pentious said.
“Did you say ‘we’,” Emily reiterated.
“I'm not about to let you continue this search alone. I will help you find your friend; however, you still have to do the hard part.”
Emily sighed before steeling himself.
“It starts with sorry, right?” Emily mimicked while giving a wry smile.
Pentious patted her shoulder.
“Now then,” Pentious stood to his highest length, “we can’t spend all day twiddling our thumbs. We must continue your search for the archangel!” He commanded triumphantly.
“Thank you, Pen, but I’ve checked every spot I could think of. I really don't know where he is.”
Sir Pentious and his hat both looked lost in thought.
“Well, what do you know about Abel?” Pentious asked.
“He likes anything sweet or fluffy. And he loves music, but I already checked the bakeries, the petting zoo, and the concert hall.”
“Does he have any hobbies?” he inquired further.
Emily placed her hand on her chin as she thought intently. “Well, he used to herd sheep, but I don’t know if that counts as a hob-“ Emily then gasped dramatically. “I know where he is! I know where he is!”
A tug on his arm sent Pentious flying alongside her, the eggs flying after them.
Eventually, they landed on a soft, grassy field. In the middle of the field was a bright red barn. Emily flew over to the large doors while Pentious slithered over the soggy grass. With a mighty huff, Emily pushed open the wooden doors.
Inside the barn, dozens of animals were curled up in the hay, sleeping comfortably through the storm. But Emily ignored most of them and kept her eyes peeled for the sheep, which were sticking close like a herd of clouds. Among the flock, a pair of wings was surrounded by lambs, and one was even nibbling on a feather. There was Abel, sitting in the hay, wet feathers covered in wool and wrapped around his body. Despite being surrounded by huggable animals, Abel was hugging his legs, his tear-stained chin resting on his grass-stained knees. There was a slight shiver to his frame as cold water dropped off his body. Ichor had mixed with the mucus still leaking out of his nose.
The crunch of hay under Emily’s feet caught his attention. But there was little joy in seeing her. Too deep in his depression, he stayed curled in a ball.
“How did you find me?” Abel asked, his voice muffled by his knees.
“This was your favorite spot when you first arrived in Heaven,” Emily answered.
She was right, he spent almost every day at this farm during his early years. There was no need for protection, but keeping an eye on the sheep gave him something to do and reminded him of his old life: back when all he had to worry about was a ewe straying from the flock.
Sir Pentious came closer, but kept his distance as the two talked. Despite this, Abel noticed his presence.
“Sir Pentious!” Abel jumped to his feet, quick to adjust his hat, only to remember he was still in his street clothes. The sudden jolt didn’t help his dizziness as he fell back on his butt. Emily was immediately by his side, ushering him back down. Abel gripped his head as he waited for the vertigo to die down, and Emily kept a hand on his shoulder.
“Is it okay if I sit next to you?” she asked.
Abel nodded.
So, Emily sat down next to Abel. The little Seraphim wanted to start, but she could not help finding wringing her fingers together more fascinating. Meanwhile, Abel was too preoccupied with rubbing at the growing pressure in his sinuses. Unable to handle the silence anymore, Emily finally forced out a sentence.
“Abel, I’m sorry for screwing up. I should have asked you what you wanted instead of doing it my way. I’ll be honest, I have no idea how a cold works.”
Abel snickered. “Yeah, I kind of figured.”
Emily chuckled along with him, but that stopped when his giggles turned into weak coughs. She gave his back soft pats until the fit stopped.
“I'b sorry too for losing my cool earlier,” Abel sniffled in a futile attempt to stave off the congestion now coating his voice. “There was just so much happe’ding all at once, and I felt so…angry,” Abel stared down at his clenched fists. “Em’bily…” Abel snorted painfully. “...Am’b I just like the bad parts of m’by dad?”
“What? No, not at all. You’re so much more than him,” Emily reassured as she took his hand in hers. “Remember when all those sinners were trying to stop the weapon? You and Lute were supposed to bring me back, but Lute just wanted to start another extermination. For God’s sake, you could have dragged me back to Heaven, but you stopped Lute from killing everyone. You were braver than I’ve ever seen.”
Abel couldn’t help but smile a little at that memory. He still felt guilt for not helping more, but a part of him was proud for standing up for himself. It almost felt like his father’s spirit was beside him.
“Was I really dat brave?”
“Yes, and I’ll keep saying it until you believe me,” Emily said with all the confidence she could muster. “Heaven couldn't have chosen a better angel to keep us safe.”
That did it for Abel; the dam was broken, and the tears came pouring in. Through sobs, he inched closer to Emily with his arms outstretched. Emily accepted his hug, even when she felt his leaking face soaking into her long hair. She ran a hand up and down Abel’s shaking back as he continued to cry.
Abel just sat on his knees, sobbing into Emily’s purple locks. All the day’s stress and his weakened immune system brought his emotions bubbling to the surface like boiling water. All he wanted to do at that moment was to stay in her embrace forever. Unfortunately, her soft hair also triggered his sensitive nostrils. He pushed Emily away and scrubbed his face, but the itch refused to die down. With no tissues in sight, he shoved his face into his wings again. “Heh-heh-heh’shoo! Heh’CHEW! HAH’choo! HAH’CHEW! ACHOO!” When the fit finally ended, Abel was gasping for air and rubbing his sore nose. Snot and ichor soaked into his already wet feathers.
Sir Pentious finally decided to intervene by handing Abel one of his monogrammed handkerchiefs. Abel gratefully took the fabric, but was too winded to say it. His nose honked like a dying goose as he emptied his sinuses until the handkerchief was soaked. He tried to hand the soiled fabric back to Sir Pentious, who grimaced.
“You can hold onto it,” Pentious said.
Abel tried to clean his feathers, but was interrupted by a coughing fit. His chest crackled and popped in painful hacks. As he caught his breath, a scaly hand brushed against his soaked forehead.
“Goodness, you're burning up!”
Before Abel knew, Pentious had one of his arms wrapped around his armpit. He was about to object when his legs turned into jelly. If it weren't for Emily supporting his other side, Abel would have taken Pentious down with him.
“Come along, let's get you back into bed," Pentious said.
It didn’t take long for them to return thanks to Emily’s portal, going from the wet barn to the dry living room. Although that was changing thanks to the puddles forming under all three.
“S-s-so c-c-cold,” Abel shuddered out through chattering teeth.
Sir Pentious set his umbrella against the couch, and when he saw the blanket draped over the backrest, he draped it over Abel.
“Why don't you go take a hot shower while Emily and I prepare your bed with a nice warm meal?”
Abel nodded as he dragged his frostbitten toes to the bathroom.
At the mention of food, Emily started sweating.
“Um, we may have to clean up first,” Emily said.
Pentious was about to ask why until he heard something wooden fall in the kitchen. He turned the corner to find a war zone. There was still food everywhere, dirty dishes left to fester, burn marks blackened the stove, and a wooden spoon was lying on the floor.
“What the hell happened here?” Pentious exclaimed.
“I don't think I'm a good cook,” Emily admitted.
Pentious sighed with a hiss. “I’ll get a mop.”
Once the kitchen was mostly clean, Sir Pentious got to work making a new batch of soup while Emily kept busy gathering supplies and straightening the blankets. However, she couldn't help watching Pentious slice through each tomato with ease. How could he do it so easily? What was she doing wrong? With her job done, she sat at the dining table, watching Pentious cook.
“Would you like to help me?” Pentious asked.
“Oh no, you don’t want me to work on that broth. I might fill it with choking hazards like the last one,” Emily said half jokingly.
But Pentious was undeterred. He continued to usher her forward until Emily caved in and walked back into the kitchen. She visibly stiffened when the knife came into sight; she could feel her cuts pulsating under the band aids. Pentious set up a freshly skinned carrot on the cutting board.
“You need to hold the knife at the base of the blade.” As Pentious explained, he guided her hands, scaly palms laid over pale grey flesh ones. “As for the other hand, the trick is to curl your fingers in so they are not in the way of the knife.”
With his guidance, the knife sliced through the carrot smoothly. As each segment formed, Emily grew more confident. What had seemed like a daunting task now felt more like child’s play. The more they cut, the quicker they went. By the time Emily reached the vegetable’s tip, Pentious stepped back like a parent letting go of a bike their child was riding. Pride swelled in his chest as she slid the carrots into the pot. Sir Pentious took this time to prepare some tea, thankfully finding a stove-top kettle in one of the cabinets. Emily slowly stirred the bubbling red broth, the carrots bobbing with the bubbles. She took a deep inhale, salivating at the savory scent. Just as the soup finished, the kettle let loose a shrill screech. Pentious removed the hot metal from the stove, using a tea towel to protect his hands. After a few minutes, Pentious placed two bowls on a tray, one he filled with soup and the other was filled with water and ice cubes. Next to both was a tea cup with a medicinal tea bag which Pentious quickly poured steaming water into, the clear water soon turning murky.
“Pentious, could you give Abel his dinner? I want to grab a few things for him.”
Pentious nodded at Emily’s request as he wandered off, balancing the food tray.
Pentious entered the room just as Abel was at the tail end of another sneezing fit. The snake’s hood unfurled in surprise, nearly flipping the bowl over. He wasn’t sure whether to be concerned or impressed that his ministrations could get so loud. Abel was tucked into his plushie-covered bed, clad in soft, pale red pajamas. His hair was still wet, but this time, it was from the shower. He tossed a wadded-up tissue on a growing pile in the waste bin as Pentious slithered over.
“How are you feeling?” Pentious asked.
“Bad, but less gunky,” Abel replied.
“Yesss, the warm steam should have loosened the congesstion.”
Pentious set the food tray over Abel’s lap before setting the back of his hand against the angel’s forehead again. He frowned as he felt the same heat roasting his skin.
“Your temperature is still a little high for my liking,” Pentious explained. Noticing the cough syrup sitting on the nightstand, he grabbed the bottle and a spare spoon. “Emily told me that you were unable to take your medicine lasst time, so I think we should try again.”
Abel shuddered at the sight of the spoon, the memory burning his throat. He hid his face behind the blanket as if that would stop him from taking his medicine.
“You know what, I’b feeli’g much bedder. I don’t think I need anymore,” Abel stuttered out as he huddled under the covers.
Pentious raised an eyebrow. “Abel, I insist,” he said, “You need to drink it. What could be wrong with it?”
“The last time I took m’by medicine didn't end well,” Abel explained. “I kind of…choked on it.”
Pentious’s features softened. Living in the 19th Century, he was all too familiar with medical mishaps. But if all he had to do was show Abel there was nothing to fear, so be it. So, without hesitation, Pentious poured a generous amount onto the spoon and gulped it down. Abel was confused until Pentious said, “See? There’s nothing to worry about.”
When Abel still looked hesitant, Pentious sweetened the deal.
“If you take one spoonful, I’ll let you have a treat afterwards.”
Pentious swore he saw a sparkle in Abel’s eyes. Finally, Abel left his hiding place, taking the bottle and spoon from Pentious and cautiously sipped down the blue liquid. His face scrunched up, waiting for the impending sting, but there was no sugar to hurt his throat. With his task finished, Pentious held up his end of the bargain, taking out a bear-shaped bottle of honey.
“A spoonful of honey was simply to help with that sore throat, but it also ssserves as a reward,” Pentious explained as he squeezed a stream onto a second spoon.
Abel was more than happy to gulp down the sweet treat. The metal utensil clinked against his teeth as he ran his tongue all over the spoon, lapping up every drop.
“I'll add an extra tablespoon to your tea.”
Abel was too busy licking the spoon clean to care.
“As for the fever,” Pentious then dipped his hand into the bowl of ice water. Abel watched as Pentious wrung out his hand towel from the kitchen. Once damp but not soaked, Pentious placed the folded cloth atop Abel’s forehead. He gasped at the sudden cold, but relaxed as it soothed his headache.
With his medicine taken, Abel turned to the soup. He dipped his spoon into the broth, scooping up a generous amount, a carrot slice floating like a raft. He chewed meticulously on the vegetable while the broth coated his tongue. Unfortunately, once again, it felt like a mitten was covering his taste buds. But something was poking through; it was hot and made his mouth tingle. There was no mistake that Pentious added hot peppers to the broth. Normally, he hated spicy food, but at least he could taste it. The spice also made his nose run, relieving some of the pressure. Unfortunately, it also made his nose tickle. Abel waited for the impending sneeze, but nothing came out. The burning lingered no matter how hard he rubbed mercilessly at his nostrils. What little positivity he gained died as his body reminded him how miserable he felt.
“Pen’dtious, you remember being si’g. Is it always dis m’biserable?” Abel asked.
“Yesss,” Sir Pentious confirmed with his hiss growing more forlorn. Abel felt his anxiety grow in strength after that confirmation, but before it could reach its peak, Pentious continued. “But I learned that having friends with you makes it easier to get through. And less lonely.” As Pentious said this, he had a warm smile on his face. He held out his hand, which Abel graciously took, relishing in the body heat. Abel felt the last of the weight leave his chest as he held the former sinner’s hand close to him like a teddy bear.
Just then, Emily came in, carrying an array of grooming products from brushes to oils.
“Hey Abel, I noticed your wings seem sore, and your feathers are all ruffled from the storm, so I was thinking a preening session would help.”
Abel nodded in agreement.
“Why don’t I put on a movie for usss to watch?” Pentious suggested. He slithered over to the DVD collection in the TV stand’s shelves..
“What would you like to watch?” Pentious asked.
“Surprise me,” Abel replied.
Each plastic case clapped against each other as he flipped through each one like he was looking for a record. Eventually, he came across one that piqued his interest.
“How does The Princess Bride sound?” Pentious asked, holding up the DVD box.
“Oh my gosh, yes!” Emily squealed.
“Good choice,” Abel agreed calmly.
Pentious was shocked by their enthusiasm over the movie.
“I have never heard of this film,” Pentious said. “Is it really that good?”
Abel and Emily gasped in unison.
“You’ve never seen The Princess Bride?” Emily questioned.
Pentious shook his head.
Emily and Abel gave each other a knowing look before nodding.
“Well, now we have to watch it so you can experience its brilliance,” Emily said.
Pentious simply shrugged as he placed the disc into the DVD player. Abel fished through the pillows until he pulled out the remote and turned on the television. While Abel started the movie, Pentious grabbed himself a rocking chair he found in the living room, and when no one objected, he took a seat by the bed, his tail pushing the chair back and forth. The trio watched as the story unfolded with sword fights, pirates, and romance. To his surprise, Pentious found himself getting sucked into the story.
“You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means,” Abel and Emily laughed as they quoted in unison. Even Pentious was laughing from their infectious joy.
Once Abel swallowed the last bit of soup, Emily gave one of his wings a tap. Abel stretched out his ginormous wings, relishing in the strain being loosened as he rested his flight muscles on the soft mattress. Emily took that chance to place a wing on her lap and run through it with a fine-toothed comb, loosening knots and straightening ruffled feathers. Anytime she came across a clump of debris, all she had to do was give it a spritz of warm water to loosen it up. And a swipe of oil gave his feathers a healthy shine. As the preening continued, Abel took some tentative sips of his tea, relishing in the warm honey and peppermint easing his sore throat. Abel was already yawning before the film reached the halfway point. The warm food in his belly and the relaxing brushes were pulling him to sleep.
“You can take a nap if you want, Abel. We can replay the movie,” Emily said.
Despite this, Abel tried his best to keep his eyes open no matter how much they ached. When it became too much, he told himself he would just close his eyes for a few minutes.
Sir Pentious slowly removed the TV tray so as not to wake a snoring Abel.
The rest of the afternoon went smoothly. The movie playing, the rain pattering against the giant window, and the smell of a home-cooked meal filling the room.
Hours later, the door opened again. Sera walked in, carrying a clear bag of taffies. She gave her umbrella a few shakes before bringing it inside with her. By the time she reached Abel’s home, the storm had calmed to a light drizzle. She was ready to greet Abel and Emily, but the living room was empty. Once again, she searched for any signs of life, the only difference being that the kitchen was full of drying dishes. Since there was no one in the main room, she made her way over to Abel's room. Her suspicions were confirmed when she saw the sliver of light poking through the door’s bottom. She gave the door a gentle rap, and when no one answered, she let herself in.
“Abel, it's Sera. Are you awake?” Sera said as she poked her head into the room.
The bedroom was illuminated by the TV stuck on the title screen. Abel was lying on his stomach, hugging the tissue box like a teddy bear in his sleep, while all of his plushies surrounded him. Emily was still next to him but also fast asleep, her back against the soft headboard, and an Egg Boi snoozing on her lap. Pentious had dozed off in the chair with his head lolled back and his hood dangling off the edge, his hat long since fallen off.
Sera couldn't help the warm smile forming on her cheeks. She hadn't seen Abel look this relaxed in months. As if bad luck was listening in, a shiver ran up Abel’s spine, making him curl into himself in his sleep. Sera immediately walked over to the edge of the bed and tucked the blanket further over Abel’s shoulders. His chills died down, but he didn't lose that look of discomfort. Sera ran her manicured fingers through Abel's soft locks, scratching at his scalp. Eventually, Abel’s features relaxed enough for him to return to a restful sleep. Positive that he was okay now, she placed the taffy bag on the nightstand as lightly as possible and turned all the electronics and lights off. With all taken care of, Sera left the room as quietly as a church mouse, which was easy given Abel's loud snoring.
She gave one more look back before closing the door behind her. After all, there was no need for her to stay and take care of Abel. That job was already taken.
Prev: Ch. 2
Epilogue drawing
You know what? I can see Abel liking bumblebees. I don't know why, maybe it's because they're yellow and fluffy like him, but I can totally see him cuddling a bee plushie or sitting in a flower garden with bumblebees resting on him, not at all afraid he will get stung.
Come what may…
Ha-ha... just rememberd I had this on Steam, felt things, got inspired Dust: An Elysian Tail I remember how I first played this game in 2013; didn't know what I was getting myself into back then. Wasn't all that good neither with English nor with games as a whole, at that time. Had to power through and struggle with both gameplay and plot. But it was so worth it - I instantly fell in love with the game, its world and characters. Though I didn't get half of the dialogues on my first playthrough, I still was moved to tears with all those beautiful cinematics, music and voice acting. Every now and then I return to it, and every playthrough hurts just as much as the very first. But I don't think I can ever forget it. This is one of the games that will forever stay with me, not just as a game but an experience. One that even inspired my love for the medium as a whole.
Eh, two alternative versions for good measure too
Yaaaay, someone acknowledged this game’s existence!
A little Alastor animation practice
Object rotation
WEEEEEE!
Heavenly Sniffles Ch 2 -- Hazbin Hotel
Word Count: 3.1 k
The yellow door swung open. Abel was ready to pass out by the time they returned to his home. He stood at the entrance, his golden hair and feathers a mess from his impromptu flying. Emily flew inside in a flurry of feathers, carrying a bag of supplies from their detour to a pharmacy.
“Home sweet home!” Emily cheered. “Just you wait, Abel. By tonight, you'll have forgotten all about your cold!”
Abel tuned out her squealing as he painfully pulled his hoodie over his head, brushing against his sore wings. He barely had time to hook the hood on the coat rack before Emily started shoving him.
“The doctor said you needed rest, medicine, and soup. So, off to bed with you,” Emily said while continuing to push him forward.
“Don't have to tell me twice,” Abel said as he sped walked back to his bedroom.
Emily flew over to the dining table, but Abel did not give her a second glance. Fumbling back to his room, he nearly crashed into the TV facing his bed, not stopping to think about his poor balance when his king-sized bed was practically calling for him. He didn't bother to change back into pajamas before belly flopping onto his comforter; his stuffed animals were sent flying from the collision to every corner of the room. His mattress felt softer than any heavenly cloud, and his blankets were warmer than all of the Sun’s rays. He would have fallen asleep right then and there if his nose hadn't brushed against his pillows. A familiar itch burned his sinuses, but there were no tissues in sight. With no other option, he shoved his nose into his arm.
“Achoo! Heh’tshew! Heh’CHOO!” Each sneeze sent him rocking forward like a rocking chair, and a chill followed every outburst that left him covered in goosebumps. By the time the fit ended, he was winded. Emily returned from raiding all the closets for a dozen blankets to find Abel slumped against his headboard, exhausted and shaking. Emily immediately rushed to his side.
“Are you okay? Do you need anything?” Emily asked, worried.
Abel grunted as he forced himself into a sitting position.
“I’m okay, Emily. Although I could use some tissues,” Abel punctuated his request with a drawn-out sniffle.
Emily gave him a tissue box she grabbed from the bathroom. Abel sighed as the soft tissue felt soothing against his sore nose. As Abel cleaned his nose and arm, Emily started arranging the new blankets on his bed.
“What are you doing?” Abel asked as he tossed the tissue in the nearby bin.
“What better way to chase the chills away than with super soft blankets!” Emily proceeded to wrap Abel up like a burrito in every blanket. With each new cover, the mound grew in width. Emily took a step back to admire her work. Abel’s head poked out of the mountain of covers, completely covered neck to toe. Her friend looked like a golden cherry on top of a fluffy sundae.
“How is that?”
Abel struggled to move his arms in the confined space; it felt like someone had stacked a bunch of tires over him. While it did relieve some of the strain from his wings, he could barely move an inch. Before he could say something, Emily gave him the brightest starry-eyed smile. Any objection was caught on his tongue.
“It’s…” he swallowed his protest. “Definitely snug.”
A warm smile grew on Emily's face, one that lifted Abel’s spirits.
“While you get comfy, I’m gonna make you some soup.
“Wait, Emily!” He tried to wave her down until he remembered his limbs were trapped. Fortunately, Emily poked her head back into the room. “There's a cookbook on the kitchen counter you can use. I put little stars next to the names of my favorite recipes.” His voice grew less confident as he explained the stickers, burrowing his blushing face into the blanket pile.
But Emily did not judge; she gave two thumbs up before leaving the room again. With most of his situation taken care of, the little adrenaline still working overtime finally died down. Abel felt the familiar ache in the back of his eyes, pulling him towards sleep. He didn't fight it; he simply closed his eyes and allowed his mind to slow down.
Emily flew into the kitchen, a small section of the living room with the most current technology in appliances. A large apron was hanging from a hook just by the entrance. Emily slipped it over her head, but it was so big compared to her small frame that she had to wrap the string twice around her waist before tying it into a ribbon. Next to a giant silver fridge was a worn-out cookbook; its spine crackled as Emily opened it. Just as Abel said, there were star stickers next to certain recipe names; Emily chuckled, seeing so many stars crowding the dessert section. But there were also other stickers, mainly farm animals and a few planets, taking up what little space that wasn’t occupied by words or stains from previous cooking attempts. Emily scanned over the many titles, her finger running over the stained paper. Eventually, she found the “soups and stews” section, ranging from chicken noodle to coq au vin. The stars were more spaced out, making it easier to find his favorites.
The pages lightly flapped as she flipped through them. When she stopped at the chicken noodle recipe, she was shown a picture of a bowl filled with golden liquid, swirly noodles, chicken, and vegetables floating comfortably in the broth.
“All I have to do is cut up carrots, celery, and chicken, then put them in hot water?” Emily scoffed. “This’ll be easy.”
She swung open the fridge doors, a gust of cold air blasting her. Every shelf was filled to the brim with fresh food, but she had her eyes set on the vegetable crisper. She placed several cold carrots and celery stalks on a cutting board. A snap of her fingers caused the remaining ingredients to appear before her. With a crack of her knuckles, she started cooking.
“Okay, step one: slice carrots and celery, then place them in the pot with butter and garlic.”
Emily lined all the carrots and celery neatly before rummaging through the drawers and pulling out a gigantic knife. The metal cut through the vegetables with ease as Emily slammed the knife down. But her chopping was cut short by a yelp/jolt of pain. She held up her index finger, which had a small cut oozing golden blood.
“Okay, let's try again. But this time, go slower,” Emily chastised herself.
As Emily resumed, the once sunny day gradually changed to a rainy one. Fat raindrops splattered against the house, creating a soothing pitter-pattering sound. But the storm outside was nothing compared to the one occurring indoors. The cooking time was a flurry of feathers and swinging knives. Vegetables were cut into uneven pieces, oil went flying while cooking the chicken, and olive oil spilled on the apron when it slipped from her hands. By the time it was over, every finger was wrapped in Band-Aids, and the kitchen was a mess. There were spills and food bits everywhere, and the apron had become more food than fabric. But the fruits of her labor were a bubbling pot ready to be eaten. Placing the soiled apron next to the burner, she looked at her work: the chicken looked like it had been tossed through a wood chipper, and the vegetables were mutilated, but it smelled divine.
Emily poured a generous amount into a large bowl. After placing the bowl and a cup of orange juice on a TV tray, she reached into one of the crinkly plastic bags set aside and pulled out a plastic bottle filled with a dark blue liquid. She slowly carried the heavy tray back to Abel’s room, taking care not to drop it. With her hands full, Emily kicked the door open.
“I finished making the soup,” Emily cheered.
The sudden noise interrupted Abel’s congested snoring. A gasp caught in his throat, triggering a coughing fit. With his arms still restrained, he shoved his face into the blankets to cover the oncoming spray.
Emily rushed to his side, setting the tray down in front of him. She gave his back some firm pats until his coughing subsided. Abel was left wincing at his torn throat.
“Hang on, this is supposed to help you feel better,” Emily said as she grabbed the bottle and a spare spoon. She then poured the medicine onto the spoon, the syrup pooling onto the silverware, slowly sloshing about with some white bits swimming in it.
“Here comes the pangolin going into its burrow~,” Emily sang as she held up the spoon to Abel’s mouth.
Abel pulled away from the spoon. This whole display made his face grow hot. He wasn't a child; he was a grown man for the last thousand years. Despite his desire to object, he was still nestled in the covers. Unable to grab things, he was forced to open his mouth. Emily poured the contents onto Abel's tongue, soaking his mouth in oversweetened blueberry flavor. The taste wasn't too bad, but swallowing was an issue. Abel immediately gagged. The dark blue mush sprayed everywhere as he spat up. Emily's wings fluttered in shock from the sudden hacking.
“What the heck was that?!” Abel exclaimed.
“Cough syrup,” Emily answered warily.
Abel ran his tongue over the roof of his mouth to find tiny crystals clinging to flesh.
“Why was it grainy?” he asked.
“I put a little sugar on the spoon,” Emily explained.
“Why?”
“I heard a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down,” Emily explained further, but less assuredly.
Abel felt a dribble of medicine run down his chin.
“It didn’t. It really didn’t-” another round of hacking cut him off. His coughing was even worse now, thanks to the sugar stuck to his throat.
“Maybe you just need a drink,” Emily suggested as she shoved the glass to Abel’s lips. He gulped down the orange juice to wash the sugar down, but the juice stung against his raw throat. Emily swore she could feel her heart tearing when she heard Abel’s painful whimpers.
“I’m sorry, Abel,” Emily apologized. She then pushed the tray closer to Abel. “Maybe something warm will help.”
She waited patiently for Abel to take the first bite until she realized he couldn't. She quickly helped him escape, pulling off one layer at a time until Abel could slip his arms out. Once free, he scrubbed furiously at his golden nose. The movement barely knocked loose the congestion packed in his sinuses, but it still felt like he was doing something. As he grabbed the spoon before Emily had a chance to reach for it, he tried to take a deep inhale, but he was still too clogged. Abel sighed, resigning himself to his fate of never smelling anything again. He chewed on an egg noodle while he let the broth slide down his throat, sighing as the warmth calmed the fire in his pharynx. His bites were slow and methodical, but he also looked puzzled, like he was trying to understand what he was eating.
“Is something wrong?” Emily asked.
“I'm having a little trouble tasting it,” Abel said, taking another bite as if to make sure his statement was correct. “Maybe it just needs extra seasoning?”
“Oh! I have just the thing!” She flew off in a hurry, quickly returning with a pepper shaker. “It probably just needs some more pepper.” Emily shook a generous amount of the black specks into the bowl. Unfortunately, her ministrations were a bit too close to Abel’s face. Despite all the congestion, the particles found their way into Abel’s nose and were already burning.
“Emily, I think that's a little close to my-mah…ahh-”
Feeling the tingling grow stronger, Abel desperately searched for tissues only for one of his giant wings to smack the box off the bed, the cardboard knocking against the wall. Not wanting to make a further mess, he shoved his face into a wing.
“Hah’tshu! Heh'tshew! Hih’TSHEW! HEH’TCHOO!” The sneezes seemed to have no end, each growing louder than the last, and Abel’s feathers shook violently with each burst of air.
“It burns! Why does it bur-ur-rih’CHOO!” Another round of sneezes cut off his cries. Desperate to help, Emily dove for the box like a cat after a bird. After what felt like forever, the fit ended with a heavy sniffle. Without removing his wing, Abel took the box and pulled it under the golden curtain. Wet gurgles could be heard as he emptied what sounded like a gallon of snot. When he finally curled his wing back, his face was a mess: puffy eyes and a nose sore with inflammation, and a forehead starting to glisten with sweat.
“Sorry about that,” said Emily.
Abel took one more swipe at his nose, waiting for the feeling of fullness in his nose to die down.
“It’s okay, I know you didn’t mean to do that.” Wanting to move on from that fiasco, Abel grabbed the spoon again. He took another bite, this time with a piece of chicken.
“Any better?” Emily asked.
Abel swallowed before saying, “Yeah, I can taste it a lit-” another coughing fit stopped him, but this one sounded different. They sounded forced and weak. Emily was confused until Abel’s hands flew to his neck. Her blood turned to ice when she realized what was happening.
“Oh my gosh, you’re choking!” Emily cried. Within a second, she was behind Abel with her hands wrapped around his diaphragm. He squeezed his soft belly with all her strength; it almost felt like her wrists were going to break. Abel still struggled to breathe while Emily was squeezing him like a stress ball. During the Heimlich, Emily subconsciously started flying, bringing Abel with her off the ground. He could have sworn his ribs were ready to shatter, and his eyes were going to pop out with how much force she was putting into her thrusts. But, eventually, something was pushed to the surface, and Abel loudly spat out the foreign object. Emily set Abel down as he coughed and gasped for air while she investigated the choking hazard; turns out it was the half-eaten chicken with a jagged rib bone sticking out like a twig, a small drop of blood clinging to the tip.
“What…the heck…was wrong…with that soup?” Abel demanded in between gasps.
“I don’t know,” Emily said, trying to understand as well. “I followed the recipe to a T.”
“You used boneless chicken, right?” Emily blinked, then facepalmed.
“Abel, I'm so sorry!” Emily apologized profusely.
Abel sighed. “Emily, it's fine. Really.”
“Are you sure?”
At this point, Abel had returned to a somewhat normal breathing pattern, and a bit of color had returned to his face.
“Yeah, I’ll be fine. At least it can’t get any worse than this.”
Emily was about to agree when she saw Abel look up. She followed his gaze to see a trail of black clouds billowing from the hallway.
“Is that smoke?” Abel asked.
The fire alarm started blaring. Emily rushed back into the kitchen only to find it up in flames. Her apron still sat next to the bright burner, scorched beyond recognition. In a panic, Emily dumped the apron in the sink and turned the water on. But instead of putting it out, the water fed the fire, turning a small spark into a blaze.
“How did that make it worse?!” Emily exclaimed.
Emily started to panic, pacing in the kitchen like a decapitated chicken. She tried to think of another way to put it out, but her brain was too busy freaking out to come up with anything useful. That’s when Abel came in, witnessing his sink full of fire and Emily losing her mind. Not wasting any time, he shoved the blanket that was draped over his shoulder over the apron, successfully smothering the fire until it died. He was so focused on calming the flames, he didn’t notice his thick wing brushing against the bright burner.
As soon as the fire was put out, he faced Emily. “What happened this time, Emily?”
“I must have put the apron too close to the burner, I wanted to keep the soup…warm…” she trailed as she noticed the small ember beginning to form on Abel’s left wing.
“Uh, Abel…” Emily pointed at his wing.
Abel looked to his left to find the new fire forming.
“My wing!” Abel shouted as he started to panic. He grabbed a nearby hand towel and started beating it with the tiny fabric. Emily watched as her friend tried desperately to stop the fire from growing larger as it ate away at his pectoral feathers. In a split-second decision, Emily grabbed the pot still full of soup and splashed it all over Abel. Fortunately, this time, the liquid did extinguish it. Unfortunately, Abel was now soaked in chicken broth. Bits of noodles slowly slid down his clothes and plopped into the puddles collecting under him.
“Well, you were definitely on fire today,” Emily forced a chuckle as Abel stood there.
He did not say a word. Emily went back to talking, but he could not pay attention. Too much was happening all at once. The fire alarm was still ringing, the smoke had yet to die down, the kitchen was a mess, he was covered in soup, and Emily’s voice was beginning to fray his nerves. A popping static filled his ears, and his sight was growing narrower. Before he knew it, his mouth was moving before his thoughts.
“Emily, STOP!”
Emily was silenced.
“All you've done so far is make things worse! I just wanted to rest, but you've made that impossible! Why can't you just leave me the Hell alone?!” Abel ranted at the top of his lungs, his strained voice pushed to its limits.
Emily stood there, dumbstruck. This was not a side of Abel she was used to. Abel stood over her, shaking with anger. He had nothing else to say, but he still felt like he wanted to scream to the Heavens. Eventually, the adrenaline died down, and Abel could finally think clearly. He saw Emily looking up at him, terrified. Realizing what he had done, a needle stabbed him in the heart. Eyes once filled with rage were now filled with tears. Before Emily could say anything, Abel flew out of the house and into the storm.
“Abel, wait!” Emily shouted as she flew after him.
The Seraphim and the archangel then disappeared in the gray clouds, their tears mixing with the raindrops.
Previous: Ch. 1
Next: Ch. 3
