An Old Fashioned Time || Alastor X Male Reader ||

finally

"Alastor... A child will be a commitment Till we die, are you sure you want to proceed," he Asked as he read a spellbook hanging from the chandelier creating the body out of the flesh and body parts Alastor gathered. He watched as his lover carefully examined what he was doing. The sewing of the flesh as he mumbles small spells to mend the skin together creates a small baby. Alastor was always impressed with the arts manship (y/n) could bring to anything it eas a perfect blend of their features. (Y/n)s lips with Alastors eyes the nose the same as Alastor's with the face shape matching (y/n)'s. He watched as (y/n) marked the healing body with a symbol and stepped back. Encasing it in a bubble to keep it fresh until they could do the final part. Something both was nervous about, mostly Alastor as (y/n) had done it many times before alive and in death. When (y/n) came to hell his powers manifested in his beliefs of that time, with the high lifting of sexual activities and being taught only through that the souls join and can make a new life. Of course, that wasn't the case for his current position. Though he did see it as a thing people do and a thing that could have millions of meanings.

"Alastor... We don't have to do it right now, this bubble will keep it fresh for however long we need it to be kept, it's just a vessel right now, empty and cold. I could give it live right now but it will just be me and exactly like sniffles. It would need both of us to make the needed essential personality, voice, and life to be alive." (Y/n) spoke looking at his husband.

Alastor kissed (y/n) "when the time is right, and you feel like we should, we will," he said firmly wanting a child having had (y/n) explain the weird manifestation the magic took in (y/n).

---------

It had been a month and nothing came up where they felt the time was right, both were busy neglecting their work to work on this vessel. (S/n) was sitting across from her brother going through paperwork when a sound busted down the door. Jela stood their two figures behind her with a look of panic and confusion on jelas face. Two adults stood there. Older than the twins about as old as their parents, dressed exactly how their parents would dress. "(N/n)? (Sn/n)?" They said softly looking at the twins.

"Mom?" (Y/n) spoke softly.

"Dad?" (S/n) spoke with more energy. (S/n) ran into their parent's arms but (y/n) stood back apprehensive since it took so long.

"Prove it to me..." That was all (y/n) said with a bluntness and cold edge.

His father smiled, "god you take after your mother," he said as he got smacked upside his head.

His mother walked over to him. "Well where should I start, I know that when you were just a baby, you had quite a temper. And you loved knife throwing and at the same time, you were gentle and sweet. Always a sad baby, crying for hours, and life never seemed to go your way. I remember once after coming home from murder, you had this sad little frown on your pretty little face, so I made some banana bread and your father made coffee, and your sister... She tried and helped put on your favorite songs. " his mother said cupping his cheeks still taller than him in her white and black pumps and her model-like proportions that were every out of wack. Her legs were thin and longer than healthy her waist paper-thin and her entire look of the ideals 1950's housewife persona she hated. Yet her hands were still as soft as he remembers.

(Y/n) hugged her and then pushed her off now mad, "What took you so long!? Huh, what made you wait so long to find us?" He asked. "You missed everything, my wedding, my successes everything why?" He asked.

"Your mother and I on our to find you got ourselves in a pickle and ended up outside of pentagram city with nothing but the great nothing. We did everything we could and as soon as we got back we looked and found you," his father said but his mom eas still shocked at married.