☽ 𝐿𝔲𝔵 𝑀𝔬𝔱𝔥 ☾

New Orleans, Louisiana, 2012

It was late- horribly late- as Wendy was walking the aged streets of her new city. She had just left New York a few days ago and decided on a whim that NOLA would be her new home. There was..too much better left forgotten back in the Big Apple.

She didn't have a proper place yet- just the cheapest room she could find in the cheapest hotel. Least-sketchiest, cheapest hotel. Though she was still pretty sure the one she chose had spy-cams. Still, it had a bed and a bathroom. It would do for now.

Wendy was on her way back to that shoddy hotel when a stranger she passed had began to follow behind her. He wore a black puffer jacket and kept his hands in this pockets- never a good sign- as his work boots clapped against the concrete.

“Hey, gorgeous! You look lost! Need a hand?" The man called out to her and made sickening kissy sounds.

But she kept her head high and kept walking.

"Aw, don't be like that! I'm just trying to help!” He sped up. “You shouldn't be flaunting yourself off at night if you don't want some dick!”

The New-Yorker didn't outwardly react. Every step he took sent a shiver through her spine, but she refused to show it. Men like him feed on fear and the power they feel when a woman is cornered.

So her pace quicknened. She knew there was a gas station just up ahead- public and well-lit with cameras that probably worked. Worst case scenario, she can run inside and tell an employee what's going on.

“Hey! Hey, stop ignoring me, bitch!" Her stalker began to run behind her.

The woman dashed immediately, heart racing as she sprinted the best she could in her clunky platform boots- but his footsteps didn't dampen. They grew louder and louder and louder and louder-

And then she was tugged.

…

Tugged….forward?

Into the chest of a tall somebody who smelled like cigarettes and vintage cologne.

"There you are, darling! Took you long enough!”

Her bright green eyes looked up to see another complete stranger- but quite a handsome stranger. One who looked infinitly less sketchy as well.

He had dark curly hair and deep brown eyes, oval-shaped glasses with a chain looping behind his neck, caramel-colored skin and half a dozen gold ear-piercings that glimmered under the buzzing streetlight. The illumination was a little blinding, but Wendy couldn't take her gaze off of him or his sharp features. Butterflies swarmed in her stomach as she was held flush against his sleeveless white turtleneck. He looked to her and loosened his hold only to tighten it again as he leered at the stalker.

“I'm sorry, sir, did you need something?" He asked the would-be assailant with just the slightest southern drawl. “Me and my girlfriend are late for a movie- but I'm sure the folks inside over there could help you out."

Ah- she knew this game.

Wendy nodded, playing with the buttons on her “boyfriend's" red flannel.

“Sorry, hon, got caught up by some cute rats."

"Rats?” He laughed genuinely at her improv. "You just have the softest spot for animals, don't you?”

She giggled and nodded once.

The stalker had seen enough. He turned on his heel and grumbled, shoving his hands deep back into his puffer jacket pockets. The other man watched him leave before guiding Wendy to the little gas-station parking lot.

His hand recoiled immediately once they where out of sight.

“I'm so sorry about that- are you okay?"

“Y-yeah. Just fine 'cus of you. Thanks for that.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Mostly to show off her own ear pericings.

The stranger smiled softly, straightening his posture and brushing the makeup residue from Wendy's snuggles away.

"Try to be more careful, please. Tourists are the perfect target for sick fucks like him.”

“Tourist? How'd you know I'm-”

“Your accent, hon.” He chuckled. “And the way you're wandering around like a lost little fawn."

"Well, I ain't a tourist.” She crossed her arms and pouted. "I'm a….new resident."

“Still fresh meat. Still a perfect mark.” His dark eyelids lowered as he smirked incrediously. "And there won't always be a knight in shining armor to save you.”

Wendy's rescuer spoke before turning away and taking a step towards the convenience store.

Nonononono- don't leave.

“Well," She hopped beside him. “Do you know wherrreee my accent is from~?"

"Hm…Hollywood?” He snickered. "I’ve only heard that kind of voice in movies.”

“No- no it's real! Maybe uncommon, but it's real!”

“I don't believe you.” His nose tilted upwards, joined by a sly smile. "But I'll play along if that's what you want."

The stranger stopped to hold the door open for Wendy. She stuttered for a second before ducking inside, brushing her bangs out of her face to take in the selection.

“What's that look for?” The brown-eyed man craned his neck down too her ear. “They don't have 7-Elevens in New Jersey?”

“Jersey?!” She gasped. "You think I'm from fuckin’ Jersey?!!?"

"My bad- you're clearly from someplace more….bland. Maybe Rhode Island or Maryland?”

"Oh my gawd- you're doin' this on purpose, ain't you!” Wendy then looked to the cashier any pointed to her tormenter. "He's doin' this on purpose!”

The tired cashier was beyond confused and had no energy left to process anything but financial transactions.

The stranger chuckled at the accusation, hand hovering over his mouth as the kind of laugh you fall in love with someone over rang out.

It was like a damn siren song. All Wendy's frustration melted away immediately. Her heart buzzed with a warm fluffy feeling- as if she was just caught in the fallout of a oxytocin explosion.

“I'm from New York.” She spoke softly, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. "Born n' breed in Brooklyn."

He looked at her for a moment before beginning to slowly stroll the aisles.

“Mmh. And now you're all the way down here in the south becauseee…?”

“Eh- I had a manic episode." She shrugged.

Her savior tried to stifle a laugh.

"You- so you just- up-an-moved?!” He held onto a display, laughing himself weak. “Aha! That's…. that's very impulsive of you!”

“Yeah? Well that's kinda the whole issue with manic episodes, babes. They make you do impulsive shit.”

“Oh, you're funny!” The looker dropped to his knees to inspect the candy selection. “I think I like you already.”

Yes. Love me love me love me.

Wendy bent over beside him and coyly tilted her head, giving him a clear view down her cleavage if he so choosed to look.

“-But I don’t know anything about you other than that and what I'm seeing. You could actually be a cannibal. Or a crazy woman. Or maybe you're a….” He trailed off as he turned to her and got an eyefull of tit. “Mormon.”

The man blinked twice before snapping his head away.

“You might even be a eugenist or a flat-earther. I'd never know.”

“Honey, I'm wearin’ a Cannibal Corpse shirt with Hello Kitty earrings and jean shorts no longer than chicken cock. What do you think?"

“Hm…sounds like a Mormon to me." He smirked.

Fuckkkkk- she wanted to ride this guy’s dick so badly. Or eat his pussy if that's what he's working with. And if he was already taken, she was going to cut some bitch until red was the only color on the motherfucker.

Whoever this man is, he belongs to her now.

"Ugh…you're a real jerk, y'know that?”

“And yet you're the one following me around like a little shadow.” He booped her nose with a candybar and stood. “The couple act ended ten minutes ago, sweetheart.”

"Act? Damn, I thought I just got myself a brand new boyfriend…”

“And I think I got myself a brand new stalker. But at least she has good humor.”

"Can you blame me? You can't just hold a girl like that and walk off like we're strangers.”

“We are strangers, silly."

Wendy crossed her arms with a pout.

"Fine then- Hi, I'm Wendy. I think you look cute n' you seem like a real sweet guy. I just moved here and I could reeeeeallly use a friend to help show me around the city."

That got a laugh out of him.

“Hi, I'm Alastor. I think you're coming off very strong, but I've lived here all my life and would be more than happy to show you around sometime."

She smiled.

Alastor…..that's a name she could moan and beg to all night. She'd scream it for him until her throat felt raw. “Alastor~ oh, fuck, you're gonna make me cum!” “Yes, Alastor, please don't stop!” She could even see herself using his name like, "Hey, have you met my husband, Alastor, yet? We've been trying for a baby!"

“Alastor…..ain't that pretty old-fashioned? Kinda demonic too.” Wendy tapped her lower lip a few times. "I like it.”

"Demonic?” He raised an eyebrow. “I've never heard that one before.”

“Theres a fella in demonology called Alastor. He's said to punish sinners, takin' so much pleasure in it to the point he tempts people into damnation just to fuck ‘em up.” Her fingers wiggled about for emphasis. “He's somethin' of an….idol of vengeance. One of my favorite demons."

Alastor's other eyebrow lifted in mild intrigue.

“I've never heard of anyone having ‘favorite demons’ before either. You learn something new every day, I suppose."

“I love demonology! I'm a sucker for anythin' that includes crazed desperation- and demon lore is full of it! The psychology of it is just so…interestin'. I love the way a person breaks down when they're out of options. How completely changed someone can become by the wrong kind of pressure….”

“Oh, you are a crazy woman!" Her darling laughed loud. Not in mockery. Not anxiously. Not in pure amusement. But like he…shared the sentiment. "I think I do like you, Wendy. You're insane."

“You think that's hawt or somethin’?” She perked up.

He snorted at that.

“I think it's entertaining.” Alastor opened the drink fridge and zigzagged his finger over every flavor, humming softly as he took his pick. “I hate to burst your bubble, honey, but if you're expecting anything tonight- don't. I'm not that kind of man.”

Her heart dropped slightly, but she puffed her chest anyways.

“And I ain't that kinda gal. So there's no bubble to burst, yeah, dollface?”

His eyes narrowed and slid to her. Alastor stared for just a moment out of the corner of his glasses.

“I mean it, Wendy. Don’t get your hopes up."

Too late for that.

She was beyond head-over-heels.

Just looking at him made her heart beat so fast she wanted to tear open his skin and crawl inside. To carve her name on every one of his organs and stitch him back up with a needle made of her bone and thread made of her hair. She'd mark him until his skin turned red, kiss him until he didn't know anything else, love him so hard that anyone else would get physically sick at the sight of their affection.

He will love her. He doesn't have any other choice.

"All I'm hopin' for is that you'll let me pay for your haul. It's the least I can do after you saved me from endin' up in the nearest morgue.”

"Aha- no- no it's fine, you don't have to. I just did what anyone would have done.”

“Really? Cus I've been in that stitch a dozen times, but you're the first to ever step-in.” Wendy held her hands behind her back and leaned forward. "Lemme treat you, Ala-stor~"

The corners of his lips twitched into a surreptitious smile.

“Alright. Something tells me you wouldn't accept 'no' anyway.”

“Nope! Hehe~~"

Alastor rolled his eyes with a smirk and went off to find a snack. Wendy went to go grab munchies off her own too- sour gummy worms and extra sweet bottled tea. She saw what her beloved picked as they rendezvoused back at the register: spicy chips, a chocolate bar, and an energy drink.

"Redbull? At eleven PM?” She scoffed at his selection.

“Says the one buying diabetes in a plastic bottle mm." He jeered right back.

Wendy stuck her tongue out and scrunched her nose- and he did the exact same. A sugary giggle couldn't help but leave her as they set their items down.

“Heya, can ya get me two packs of Marlboros? Classic." She leaned on the counter and spoke to the cashier, eyes flicking to the tobacco shelf. "Actually- make it four, I've had a shitty week."

“Six." Her new friend added. “I'm running low too."

“We only have three packs left…” The cashier blinked slowly.

“Lameee…. I'll take three then. Mama needs her nicotine."

“Greedy hoarder." Alastor coughed under his breath. Unseriously, albiet.

The cashier grabbed the cigarettes as Wendy fumbled to take her ID out, pulling items out of her bra like a clown with balloons. A water bottle, a pocket knife, her phone, a bag of pills, then finally, her wallet. She slipped out her state ID and held it with a smile.

Her jaw dropped at the worker didn't even give it a glance.

But Alastor certainly did.

“Wendy Janus Doe-White? No fucking way that's you're actual real name!" He snickered. “Sounds like a Harry Potter character. Or even one of those dumbass spells.”

“You sound like a dumbass spell!" She huffed, stuffing everything back in her boobs. "One that makes someone teleport with their limbs all jumbled or somethin'“

“Then what are you, darling? One that summons a two-faced white fawn?"

“Here you are. Have a good night." The cashier groaned in a monotone voice as he dropped a box of condoms into a plastic bag and handed it to Wendy.

"Oh- wait- no- we don't need-” Alastor stammered.

But Wendy quickly tugged him towards the exit, whispering in his ear.

“Shhh- we gotta cheese it before he realizes he only charged me for the cigs.”

Alastor nodded promptly and moved ahead hold the door for her.

“Aw, what a gentleman~" Another giggle left her plumpy lips, fingers still tight around the sleeve of his flannel as she pulled him along to the side of the store.

Wendy rummaged around the bag beneath a streetlight, handing Alastor his snacks and the condoms, as well as two packs of the cigarettes. All her goodies where tucked back into her bra before she gave him the empty bag.

A light grin lit the man's face- her antics amused him more that he originally guessed they would. And just for a moment, his eyes caught on the condoms.

"Gawd- it is humid out here!" The northerner fanned herself. “Feels like a fuckin' sauna!"

“Welcome to Louisiana, sweetheart. It gets a little muggy down here.” Alastor jabbed at her- verbally and physically as he offered her a cigarette.

Wendy rolled her eyes and nipped it out the pack, taking out her smartphone while Alastor had one of his own. Her long acrylic nails violently tapped against the screen while she tugged the collar of her t-shirt.

“Fuck, I dunno if I'll make it with weather like this…”

“Aw, do you need me to drive you back up to New York, baby~?" He teased, holding up a flame to her smoke with his hand shielding the little fire from the wind.

Ooghh…those pet names where making her panties way damper than they had any right to….

"Ugh- you really are a grade-A asshole! Let's just trade digits so I can dip and go home.”

“Nono- I'll drive you if that's okay.” Alastor took a moment to light his own cigarette. "Where do you live?"

His sincerity seized her for a second.

"I'm- I'm stayin' at that hotel right by the dog park- y'know, the one with the big fountain sittin' basically in the middle of the sidewalk?”

“Hotel?" He blinked, shoving his lighter back into his pocket. “I thought you said you weren't a tourist."

“I'm not!” Her accent suddenly vanished to reveal a softer, still slightly gritty, adolescent-sounding voice. "I just…don't have a proper place yet….Or a job... or any money…. in fact, I think I only got two more nights at the hotel so I'll be without a home soon too."

Muscles scrunched in Alastor's face. His heart twisted and panged with violent sympathy.

"Fuck…that's a real pickle…”

Her legs tightened…his concern tasted delicious.

And then an evil thought wormed into Wendy's brain and fell out of her lips before she could think any better.

“It's fine, I…won't be around much longer anyways. I just wanted to see New Orleans before I offed myself. Give the last of what I own to someone sweet.” Her hands wrapped around her middle as she wistfully looked to the pavement and took a drag of her cigarette. “Maybe get laid too so I wouldn't die a virgin. I wanted to… hopefully feel love for a moment. I miss it.”

Smoke caught in her eyes and helped flow her crocodile tears.

“You where just….going to…?" Alastor's words caught in his throat.

“Mmhm….There's nothing left for me here." She tucked some hair behind her ear. “My parents are dead, I've never had any friends, I lost my job, evreything is wrong with me and everyone I still know hates me. My life has been nothing but a tragedy since my dad died. But….I am happy I met you. You're one of a kind, Alastor. And I wish I was in a better place so I could know you more."

Wendy deliberately turned to walk away.

Will we do this the easy way, or the hard way?

“Wendy-" He called her name too desperately for his own comfort. “Where are you going? You don't need to walk back, I’ll drive you." Alastor stepped in front of her. "And I still need to show you around sometime.”

Her lips parted in a soft show of surprise, she ran her fingers through her shoulder-length hair.

“Oh, I dunno….I don't wanna be a bother…”

“It's on the way back to my apartment anyways.” He slowly walked backwards to put some distance between them. “I have a spare bedroom you can stay in for a bit too. Just until things are more stable.”

“You'd…really let me stay with you?” She batted her eyelashes. “But I don't know how I could pay you back…”

A little sigh of relief left the local. He took a desperate hit of his cigarette and smiled reverently as those happy chemicals hit his brain.

“I'll think of something some other time, but I can't just let you walk away and jump off a bridge. Then I'd never know if you really are a Mormon~"

Wendy giggled at that- he relaxed even more.

“I'm not a fucking Mormon, you dickwad!"

“Mmhm…by the way, where'd your Yorkie cadence go, hon? I thought you where born n' breed in Brooklyn."

Her eyes jumped open with a flush across her cheeks. Wendy tightened her fists at her sides

"Nghh….okay, so maybe my accent isn't real, but I am really from Brooklyn! It's just that no one takes me seriously when I forever sound like an angsty teen….”

“Have you tried…. pouting less?” He smirked and snickered. “But, I really do like your natural speaking voice. It’s…. cute.”

“Ugh- don't patronize me, you shithead….” The punky girl grumbled.

“I mean it!! You could genuinely get a job as an Avril Lavinge impersonator!"

The redness spread to her entire face- that was honestly the best compliment she had ever received…

“Is that what you do to pay the bills? Impersonate Michael Jackson?”

"Micheal Jackson?!” Alastor wheezed a laugh. " Well, you've got a good imagination, I'll give you that. But no- I do radio."

“Radio?” Wendy blinked. "Like…you're a technician or something?"

“I host a local show.” He smiled with pride.

"No way…" She awed. “How the fuck did you swing that?”

“Mhhh..I have my ways~~"

"Oooh I didn't know I was in the presence of a star!!” Wendy gasped and bowed, dramatics amped up. “My apologies, o mighty wordsmith!"

Alastor laughed again- in that sweet way that made her heart completely melt.

"Please, keep praising me! I don't get nearly enough recognition as I should!”

“Eh- no that's enough.” She flicked his pointy nose. “If I stroke that ego any more, it's gonna blow."

Alastor frowned dramatically, dropping his cigarette and snuffing it out beneath his shoe.

Wendy did the same.

“But radio is pretty underrated, I'll admit that. There's just something so intimate about someone talking to a singular mic, and yet that conversation reaches ears everywhere!" She swooned. “I can only imagine how magical that shit was when it was fresh.”

Something in Alastor's eyes softened.

"Exactly.” He grinned.

Wendy's chest puffed high with her next breath- she was doing good.

“What station are you on? I gotta hear you at work sometime!”

The corner of her new love's lips curved more upwards ever-so-slightly. She even thought she saw a bit of blush.

"Better yet, why don't I pick you up tomarrow to show you around the studio? Then I can show you how it's all done too.”

“Oooh a private backstage tour? You do like me!"

"I was thinking I could get you a job helping out somewhere in the buildings- but keep being delusional, please, it's adorable.”

“Hey- don't call me that unless you want me getting the wrong idea!”

Alastor smiled devilishly, hovering a hand behind the small of her back.

“Come on, cutie, let's get you back to that crummy hotel before you get steam-cooked alive.”

Wendy grinned.

So we're doing this the easy way…. good choice.

art by my lovely @lux-moth !!!

Original Notes: