𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐆𝐀𝐙𝐄 ★Alastor x fem! reader★🥀

Ch. VI ✡Caught In The Acid Rain✡

IF THERE IS ONE THING YOU ABSOLUTELY hate about living in Hell...it's the spontaneous weather.

Some days, it could be scorching hot, to the point where most demons will strip down to practically nothing while there sweat drips on the streets--not a day to be out in Hell, you learned that quickly, quite a time where you refuse to leave home due to not wanting to walk amongst puddles of demon's sweat/seeing bare naked demons...disgusting.

Other days, it could be a perfect balance of heat and shade.

And then...there are THESE types of days. Where the acid rain falls, and all demons flee to avoid being burned.

Thankfully for you, being a Hellborn, you are immune to the acid, but only for a limited amount of time.
But there is one flaw...your clothes aren't immune.

And you lack an umbrella today, hence that if you don't find a place of shelter fast, your clothes will become mere rags, and reveal...your bare self.
A sight you want NO one to see.

The heels of your boots make sharp clinks sound as you pace up and down the sidewalk you stand on. There are a few abandoned and fairly old cars left on the road, but each time you look through the cracked windows to find shelter, there are already demons taking space.

Shit.

Finally, you speed walk back onto the sidewalk, realizing that you COULD use shadow teleportation to find somewhere to take cover.
Something you actually forgot during your panicked searching. You're like that sometimes, forgetting the most obvious facts in times when you're worried or panicked.

But who isn't like that from time to time? It's understandable.

You shut your eyes, feeling the acid beginning to touch the skin of your arms after your sleeves were completely burned through.
Inhaling a breath, you count.

Three...two-

An umbrella looms over you. "Why hello Y/N! Fancy seeing you here!"

The sudden voice sends a little chill running down your spine. There is only one voice that is laced with the static of an ancient and outdated radio, delivering his words with a 1920s style to it. 

Alastor.

You turn, curiously glancing up when you notice that you're not being rained on anymore, only to see a black and red colored--of course-- umbrella that is large, but at the same time, quite small, having you stand a little close to Alastor. To close for comfort, you add.

Plus, the fact that the five egg bois under you and Alastor's feet take up rather a lot of room, some of the bois even have to cling to your legs with their short little twig like arms to keep from having their shells being touched by the acid's brutal sting.

How...odd. Why is Alastor out here, with Sir Pentious's eggs?
You bend down, picking the one who you recall is named Frank, holding him to your chest softly, arms wrapped tight under him to keep him from falling.

They're sensitive eggs...one trip or sudden fall, and they'll break.

His little eyes squint at you, before he makes a noise in the back of his throat when he finally realizes who is the one who picked him up.

"Ooh, hey boss! It's that spider lady again!"

Spider lady? Well, that's quite a funny name. There have been times where you've heard the Egg Bois call your father 'The Old Guy.'
Quite cute and funny...you find some humor from there...stupidity.

But there is some truth to what he called you. You are a spider demon, and a lady. So it fits.

You smile softly, as your hand raises to rub the top of his smooth egg head, chuckling a little, not noticing Alastor's slight eye roll due to Frank's almost insulting comment.