Here are four roleplaying scenarios featuring a male version of Dolores (let's call him Dorian, inspired by the soul-sucking, stapled-together aesthetic of the iconic character) as your husband.

Scenario 1: The Midnight Touch-Up

• Setting: Your gothic Victorian bedroom, late at night.

• The Vibe: Tender, slightly morbid, and domestic.

• The Scenario: Dorian has been pacing the hallway floorboards, his joints clicking with a rhythmic, hollow sound. As a spirit whose body was painstakingly stitched back together after a messy demise, he’s prone to minor "wardrobe malfunctions"—a floating thread here, a loose finger joint there.

  You hear a soft tap on the bedroom door and find him standing there in his funeral suit, holding a silver sewing kit with a sheepish, lopsided expression. One of his knuckles has come completely unstitched, threatening to send his wedding ring clattering to the floor.

  “Darling,” he murmurs, his voice a rich, velvety baritone that echoes with a faint hollow resonance. “I hate to bother you at this hour, but my index finger seems to have staged a rebellion. Would you be an angel and anchor me down before I lose my grip entirely?”

  • Your turn to play: Help him re-stitch his hand, or tease him about how clumsy his undead limbs are getting.

Scenario 2: Jealousy in the Afterlife Waiting Room

• Setting: The Netherworld Waiting Room, surrounded by shrunken-head ghosts and bureaucrats.

• The Vibe: Possessive, dramatic, and darkly humorous.

• The Scenario: You both had to pop down to the Afterlife bureaucracy to renew your eternal residency permits. While sitting on the threadbare plastic chairs, a rather charming, recently deceased poet spots you and saunters over, striking up a lively conversation and complimenting your living-to-dead glow.

  Dorian, who usually sits quietly watching the chaos of the waiting room, immediately shifts his posture. The surgical staples running along his jawline tighten, and a subtle, dark aura flares around him. The moment the poet wanders off, Dorian wraps a cold, heavy arm tightly around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest.

  “I see the dead still lack basic boundaries,” Dorian mutters, burying his cold nose against your neck, his fingers drumming a sharp, possessive tattoo against your hip. “Remind me why we ever decided to visit the living side of town, my love? Next time, I’m stapling you to my side so no wandering souls forget whose ring you wear.”

  • Your turn to play: Reassure your wildly possessive husband or play along with his dramatic jealousy.

Scenario 3: A Candlelit Anniversary Dinner

• Setting: A candlelit dining room filled with wilting black roses and phantom cuisine.

• The Vibe: Romantic, eerie, and deeply devoted.

• The Scenario: It’s your wedding anniversary. Though Dorian doesn't need to eat, he has spent all afternoon preparing a lavish, albeit slightly macabre, dinner for the two of you using recipes from the Handbook for the Recently Deceased.

  As you sit across from him by candlelight, he reaches across the table, taking your warm, living hand in his ice-cold, scarred palm. The flickering light catches the silver wedding band on his finger—the very same ring he forced onto you when you first bound your lives (and deaths) together. Despite his terrifying reputation and patchwork appearance, his eyes gaze at you with an eternal, unshakable devotion.

  “People always ask me why a spirit bound to eternity chose to tie himself down to a mortal,” Dorian says softly, his thumb gently tracing the back of your hand. “They don’t understand that an eternity of forever would be terribly empty without you anchoring me to the earth. Happy anniversary, my heart. Death was merely the beginning of us.”

  • Your turn to play: Share your gift or response to his toast, embracing the strange beauty of your bond.

Scenario 4: The Midnight Storm and the Past Returning

• Setting: A stormy night inside your creaky ancestral home.

• The Vibe: Vulnerable, protective, and deeply intimate.

• The Scenario: A violent thunderstorm batters the windows, shaking the old glass panes. For most spirits, weather is a minor nuisance, but thunder always brings a strange, restless static to Dorian’s stitched-together form—bringing phantom echoes of the night he met his tragic end.

  Finding him standing by the window in the dark, watching the lightning split the sky, you walk up behind him and wrap your arms around his torso, pressing your face against his back. He instantly relaxes, his rigid shoulders dropping as he covers your hands with his own, pulling you closer into his protective embrace.

  “I used to hate storms,” he whispers into the dim room, turning around to pull you entirely into his arms, burying his face in your hair. “They remind me of how fragile things used to be. But with you here... holding me together when the world shakes... I think I finally understand what peace feels like. Don't ever let me go.”

  • Your turn to play: Comfort him through the storm, reminding him that he is safe and loved in the present.