#but he sold his soul for less

[nelkcats]

A Little bird told me

Danny knew his dimension didn't need him. It had been a long time since it stopped needing him, a long time since he had to be content to spend most of his days in the Infinite Realms. His sister and friends were too busy these days to pay attention to him; Danny understood, it's not like he could work or have a job, considering he'd stopped growing at 21 and people would start asking questions eventually.

Honestly, it was a relief that he'd even been able to grow up to that age, Clockwork's knowing look told him he had help with it.

So, he distracted himself by learning things from the other ghosts in the Realms, who were definitely as bored as he was. He even managed to get Vlad to teach him duplication, but it wasn't that interesting after a while. Though he had become interested in the different dimensions that Clockwork watched over.

The problem was that there was one dimension that had caught his attention (one full of heroes and magic) but they always made the worst decisions. There came a point where he decided to interfere, Clockwork seemed amused so he figured he wasn't going to stop him.

As he thought about how to infiltrate (definitely not as a hero, he loved his retirement, thank you very much), he remembered a rather...odd power he had recently discovered.

Danny had discovered that he could shapeshift. The problem was that he could only shapeshift into dead animals and well, while it was fun to scare others, he didn't know how well people would take a ghost crow with ectoplasm coming out of it's wounds.

Figuring it was better than nothing, he transformed into a bird and flew through the portal; he flew towards John Constantine, who seemed fed up with his life. Constantine knew the bird was fucking weird the moment it sit on his shoulders but he had better things to take care of, like the demon in front of him.

Said bird apparently knew the way to defeat the demon, because he started naming the ingredients needed to banish it. Constantine saw it with narrowed eyes and asked if he wanted his soul, the bird pecked him, looking annoyed.

From there, seeing that the dead bird was doing no harm, Constantine let it stay. It was oddly useful and he had sold his soul for less.

Danny spent his days whispering things to Constantine to defeat enemies and the hellbazer gave him cookies in return (the halfa really wanted to be offended), when the League saw Constantine with a dead crow on his shoulder they wondered if he had finally lost his mind.

John commented that his name was Ghosty (he was pecked again) and that he was useful, unfortunately for the superhero community, Constantine had never been that useful and therefore they couldn't complain (but why did he suddenly know all the existing gossip?, he kept bribing them with it! His crow looked amused too).

Every time Constantine won a battle without explanation, someone would make the mistake of asking how he did it. With a shit-eating grin, Constantine would point to his shoulder and say "a little bird told me."

Danny was so tempted to shape-shift just to bite his head off, but the cookies were good.

#dpxdc #Basically Danny became Constantine sidekick #but not really #he just give information and gossip #and Constantine give him cookies in return #Danny stayed as a crow at first #but he started changing to different birds just to confuse the heroes #Constantine doesn't care #he should probably be worried about the unknown entity in his shoulder #but he sold his soul for less #dp x dc #dc x dp #immortal danny #he changed the dimension destiny via Constantine #Constantine is having fun for once #Clockwork is too #Danny is starting to like cookies a lot #he wonders if it's a bird thing

[cxpperhead]

Copperhead must kill at least once a month. From the moment he took his first life, it awoke something dark inside of him, activating a primal instinct that could only be satiated upon committing one of society's foulest crimes. All snakes are hunters and he is no exception, although Copperhead murders specifically to satisfy this killer instinct as opposed to acting in good stead such as self-defence. It is another reason why he hires himself out as a contract killer, preferring to direct his fangs towards more 'deserving' prey over the risk of succumbing to his urgers and murdering a complete stranger whose death might impact their community negatively.

#🐍 || musings #🐍 || headcanons #JUST got a fucking call from work asking me to do another doubleshift less than thirty minutes before they want me to start #Starters are going to have to wait but I've been meaning to get this out for a few days #Copperhead MUST kill #There's a whole backstory that goes over this but you know how he sold his soul to the demon Neron in one particular comic? #He was born catching the eye of a dead God #Nehebkau specifically so yeah #Copperhead's got those killer instincts and has been honing them as best he can #I feel so edgy but ashsfg #I will have to come back after midnight but thank god for two days off starting tomorrow

[cambionverse]

Envesseled | Chapter 3: Colorado

7k, rated M, by @thegeminisage & @callowyn

Ten years ago, when Castiel took Claire Novak as his vessel, he unknowingly left a little piece of his grace behind. Now, that grace is killing Claire little by little. Ben and Jesse aren’t ready to let her go, but with their desperate search for a cure leading to nothing but dead ends, it seems her time is finally running out. Then unexpected tragedy strikes, and Claire must race against her own failing body and use her stolen grace one last time to set things right. As it turns out, Castiel may be the answer to all her prayers—but only if Claire finds the resolve to set aside her long-dreamed-of revenge against the angel who killed her father, and let him in one last time.

"There you are," comes a familiar voice, and Katie yanks the door open, still in her pajamas and rumpled from sleep. "Don't say you're gonna call me and then leave me on read for a whole—" Her eyes slide past Claire, past Jesse, to the empty space between them. "Where's Ben?"

"Katie," says Claire. "May we come in?"

Katie's gaze snaps back to hers, and Claire can see the dawning realization there even as she keeps her own face smooth. Jesse's breath hitches beside her.

"Claire," Katie says. "Where's Ben?"

[Read on AO3]

Previously: [1] [2]

#cambionverse #envesseled #claire novak #less than 365 days between updates this is huge for us #some fun side characters in this one #for a given value of fun (claire suffers) #if you don't remember aaron birch he appeared in 6.03 #essentially he sold his soul for a piece of heaven's weapon #the gang got it back for him but nobody told HIM that. rip!

[akkivee]

in light of recent yyh news, here's someone who's also excited lol

#this is vee speaking #basically!!!!!!! as miku is for ichiro as yuusuke is for kuukou lmao #that's it that's the hc lol #all weebs have at least one character that speaks to their soul #and kuukou unfortunately sold his soul to togashi-sensei after he brought yuusuke the world lmao #I don't think kuukou's actually the type to have a shirt and a dakimakura lol but he may have a mini figurine of him stored away 😌 #as for ME lol the crossover stuff togashi-sensei has been drawing has been making me so excited lmao!!!!!! #i’m significantly less excited about a live action adaptation but i heard the bleach one and the fma one wasn’t so bad #so maybe since it’s not american it won’t be wack shit lmao #like!!!!!!! the portrait shots of the main four are already incredible lol!!!!!! i just gotta have faith!!!!!! 😤 #vee is arting

[754pp]

i do not like nidhogg, gray raven is boring, and shade would be irrelevant if he didnt look like that

#fite me nikkiblr #gray raven has lore yeah i know. its boring #the concept of a doctor who sold his soul is interesting but the character just falls flat idk #i like peachy more and she doesnt even have a sprite #i could care less about shade though. what is his purpose. what does he do. oh him and orlando have history. cool what else #and the nidhogg point is me being petty #hes not that bad and actually interesting lorewise but #hes just..overrated to me. #i like that he contrasts nikki. its cool to me that they have a somewhat similar goal but veryyy different ways of achieving it #but why do i HAVE to like him tho #looks wise hes alright i guess #lunar deserved more character development so yes i may be salty because of that

[katsukikitten]

A rambling that adds more detail to this post about hockey players Izuku and Katsuki.

It doesn't help that you're the coach's pretty little daughter of one of the best hockey teams. At every home game and nearly every away game, you're there behind the plexiglass, insisting you buy your own tickets even when your dad can get you in for free. But occasionally you'll take his offer of a free game although it usually comes with the stipulation of being shoved into one of the manager's polo's, given a clipboard, and since this happened to be an away game you'd be forced to sit on the rowdy bus for the three hour drive.

But you really wanted to watch the championship and your paycheck came in too late when the rival match finals were FINALLY announced, it didn't help that the tickets were sold out in seconds!

So you'll stand by Daddy dearest trying to look important just behind the bench inside the cramped box the team will sit in while they wait to come on and off the ice. The team of course had to arrive early and since this was an away game, you had to look every bit the part of staff as everyone else. Which meant you too had to be in the locker room while the men stripped themselves with ease. Snarling and shoving playfully in the pre game excitement, arguing over who moved who's helmet and “where the fuck are we gonna eat after we win tonight?!”

Some of them speaking lewdly off their latest piece of ass and how Bakugou “had her barkin like a bitch in heat.” Before a chorus of laughs is shared sided from a hissed “Kacchan!” followed by a rough shove into metal lockers.

It isn't until they're all pulling on their jerseys on does your dad clear his throat. Giving the speech of the century but it half falls on deaf ears. Your cheeks burn as you feel every eye on you as if they only just now realized you'd been there the whole time but two men in partial catch your eye.

Izuku, beat red under his freckles, brows furrowed as if he's embarrassed he had such a dirty mouth in front of a lady. Embarrassed of the ‘locker room talk’ and how your tight pair of jeans has his cock twitching at the thought of you barking like a bitch in heat. His gloved hand comes to grip at the nape of his neck but it does little to quell the drunken gaze he gives you, his heated cheeks morphing into pure lust. Emerald eyes slipping around the room and when he sees Todoroki staring too intently at you his glare becomes deadly. Shouto looks away and then Izuku finds another poor soul to glare at, already possessive over something that wasn't even his.

The other being a toxic bromine, smiling wolfishly palming himself roughly as he keeps eye contact with you. Strong grip with his other hand on his hockey stick as he daydreams about you. He wants you in doggy first then missionary because you're so fuckin pretty and he's dying to know what you look like when you cum. Especially when you're creaming on his cock. He's dreamt about you before, he's fucked his fist to you before and he sure as hell has knocked some asshole’s teeth out over you before. It didn't matter if it was his own teammates or the opposing team with the exception that Izuku was allowed to make an occasional comment but no more than three before the childhood rivals would be at each other's throats.

Their gaze are always a little unnerving with their intensity, almost predatory and yet it never makes you feel uncomfortable. They'd proven before that they'd protect you when push came to shove, they did four seasons ago when you first moved to the city and before anyone on the team even knew the coach had kids, let alone a daughter. The bar was crowded, it was a rival team against some other team the city happened to give less of a shit about. The players were on an off day enjoying their few hours off the ice and of course the rough men chose a bar where they could watch a fucking hockey game and shoot shit.

You'd finally found a table with a decent view of one of the many TVs and the bar so you could easily get up and get yourself a drink. But your new male coworker offered to bully his way through the players for you, ending up at the end of the bar by a bulky curly haired man and loud ass ash blonde. Getting caught up in the game and taking your eyes off your coworker but only for a moment.

“Are you trying to spike her drink?” A thick scarred hand is over one of the glasses on the bar top, your coworker flushed red.

“Huh?”

“Ya fuckin dumb?” The ash blonde reaches over the curly haired man, yanking your coworker’s tie harshly, effectively smashing the man's face into the polished wood.

“He said were ya tryin to date rape that pretty woman over there?” The blonde cocks his head in your direction, a group of eight eyes turn to look over their shoulder and then back at your shitty coworker. Who stammers, tried to get himself out of the lie before the sweetest, deadliest voice comes from the freckled sunshine boy of the team.

“Smile.” But there's nothing but malice in his eyes as he snaps the photo, immediately texting it to every bar owner he knows. (Half the city!) Your coworker fled and they offered up a seat at the bar for you but you politely declined after that they periodically glanced back to see if you left yet and if you were still okay.

So it wasn't like the only thing they wanted was to get their dick wet right?

Bedsides what probably made you super hot to them was the fact that you were the coach’s daughter, aka off limits.

Sighing as you watch them skate around the rink gracefully despite their size, Izuku and Katsuki passing to one another before taking shots at Kirishima in his full gear as they all warm up. Soon the stadium will be packed with throngs of people pressing into the glass behind you. Most of them rival fans banging on the plexi in hopes to distract or rile up the team, not realizing you'd be distraction enough.

Because all night a pair of emerald and bromine eyes will be glued to you. One giving his killer smile and the other smirking as he delivers a deadly wink.

#literally just rambling like a senile woman at this point lmfao

[rboooks]

DP x DC: Child Support

John Constantine has done a lot in his life. Some good, some bad but most have been dangerous.

He sold his soul to as many powerful beings as he could so that they could fight each other over it and keep him in a safe-ish stalemate. It was a risk, one where he had to sweet talk, maneuver, and sometimes seduce his way through, but he's always come on top.

Waking to his wards broken as easily as someone walking through a still river meant he had finally met his match. John woke to the Time looming over him in its adult form.

Clockwork, the physical concept of Time, smashed into a body and consciousness. It's so rare to see the god outside his tower; to even be in his presence was such a high honor that families would keep proof of the encounter for generations to brag about.

"Hello, Johnny," Clockwork said in his specialized adult form. The nickname curved with fondness. This form is an even rarer sight to behold. Clockwork looked about to be in his late twenties, dressed in a Victorian-era suit with dark black hair, he would look human were it not for his pure red eyes and time staff.

He looks gorgeous.

John smiled nervously. "Clockwork. What do I owe the pleasure?"

The ghost hums. "I have come to make a deal with you."

See, that's not something John would like to hear from the second-strongest being in the multiverse. He was second to the Ghost King. Some would even argue that Clockwork was stronger were it not for his desire to remain neutral in conflicts for the sake of different timelines.

"What kind of deal?" John asks with a lustful grin, running his eyes up and down Clockworks form. It looks like he may have to seduce his way out of this again and hopefully could convince the god of Time that he was a great time in bed instead of dead once more

The Master of Time appears amused but unwilling to climb under the sheets with him. Bollocks, if he wasn't back for another month of pleasure then the deal would likely be unpleasant.

Even if Clockwork could be considered a past fling, there was no guarantee that he wouldn't ask for something harmful. John had less powerful exes who would gladly have him killed just as likely as they would key his car.

To make thinga worst, Clockwork reached into his gentleman jacket to pull out a small jar. John's heart leaped in horror at what was inside.

"I have collected every piece of your soul through challenges, purchases, or even offerings. I own you entirely, John Constantine," Clockwork said, his warm tan skin rippling into blue as the Ghost turned the jar this way and that. "I wish to return it to you, with my added protection, should the old contracts which you swindled will not seek out revenge in exchange, you must take responsibility."

John can barely breath "Responsibility of what?"

Clockwork gestures behind him, and out of the shadows step a human boy. A human boy that looks precisely like human-Clockwork as a teenager but with John's eyes and the shape of John's nose.

No.

He knows that despite how similar they look, Humans and the citizens of the Infinite Realms aren't biologically the same. He just didn't think that meant this.

That he could be so careless it resulted in this.

Clockwork waves a hand between them. "Jonny meet your son, Danny."

John choked as Danny awkwardly waved at him. He even stuffs his hands into his pockets the same way John would stuff his hands into his trench coat.

This can't be happening.

"Our son is half human, and it's unhealthy for humans to remain in the Infinite Releams for long periods. I now require you to raise him on Earth until his core is ready. The day our son is of age, you will have your soul back with my Infinite protection. Danny will take the throne of the Infinite Realms upon his marriage so do help him find a good suitor."

Clockwork considers the rapidly paling human with large amounts of glee. "I trust this would be acceptable? I must warn you, I have raised him outside of time, so he is a bit behind with modern technologies and references. He also has a ghost form he must use for his health. Oh, and, Danny has a peanut allergy, so keep that in mind for his meals. If anything were to happen to Danny while he lives with you, I would erase this entire place and not through time manipulation. I will simply kill everything. Keep you alive so I can kill every version of those you love across the multiverse in front of you. Try not to slip away from your child support to prevent that, yes?"

John faints.

Danny Fenton had to be removed from his dimension to erase Dan from existence. His future self had nearly escaped the Clock tower they couldn't risk a second time. Clockwork had told him removing him from his dimension, his timeline, would never allow Dan to exist. It broke his heart but to save the many lives that Dan took Danny had agree.

His friends and family were devastated even if Clockwork told them Danny would be allowed visits. Just nothing longer than a week and six months between visits. He had moved into Clockwork's haunt, becoming an assistant to the master of time. He helped weave timeliness, and suggested possible choices for various creatures of various situations across the multiverse.

Danny helped Clockwork control fate, if that wasn't ridiculous. He even tried his ghost powers, to the point he felt he could truelt match his mentor in a fight.

He spent two years like this- or two years in his home dimension. Time didn't move in Clockwork's tower so despite the amount of time he lived there Danny didn't look a day over fourteen still. It irked him like nothing else to see Tucker and Sam as sixteen year Olds while he still looked like he was a freshman.

(It also hurt to see them move on without him.)

However, due to his halfa status, his human side was starting to fall apart. He needed sun, food, sleep, and other humans. He would go mad otherwise, and none of this would matter if it resulted in Dan.

Clockwork couldn't put him back home. He couldn't even put Danny in an alternate timeline, for he could not be close to people he knew.

He had to go to one that had no various of anyone Danny knew. Thankfully the Infinite Releams is connected to plenty of places that fit the bill. All Clockwork had to do was twist a few small events, and boom, Danny Fenton would have a perfectly legal background with everything he need for survive.

If only his mentor wasn't such a michivious prankster.

" You want me to pretend to be your love child with some random magic guy?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Trust me Danny, it's going to be hilarious."

(Part 2)

#dc x dp crossover #John Constantine takes on Danny #Clockwork ans John were a fling #John is losing his mind. #Danny went along with it cause his bored #Child Support

[0bticeo]

welcome to the show!

summary: vox sends you as a spy to the hazbin hotel. alastor decides to give him a show.

tw: voyeurism, biting, blood play, fingering, valentino mentioned. english isn't my mother tongue.

you're thrown in hell - quite literally. the fall from purgatory and its beasts was long, arduous, and painful.

you've led an ordinary life. woken up. worked. slept. repeatead. same old decaying matter as everything else. you didn't think too much of it, of course not. you were twenty something and rising slowly, steadily in your company as an esteemed lawyer. memento mori didn't ring a bell. maybe it should've.

now you're in hell, and you're burning with sheer, unbridled rage, because how dare they throw you in there? (you're all in hell for a reason. all of you, fangs and bad intentions bare to the world.)

you take up your old job at vox tech. lawyer for a corrupt company. old habits die harder than you do. there, there's the thrill of probing the opposing companies and sinking your fangs into them, corrupt little fox with a too wide smile on your face.

what you gather is this: velvette's sense of fashion involves too much purple, valentino is the embodiment of everything you hate and vox... vox is obsessed with the radio demon. he's disappeared not too long after being asked to join the vees. you'd know, you're the one who wrote the contract he refused to sign. bastard.

could've been fine, really. but they work you to the bone and treat you as little less than a glorified secretary. when valentino throws the cup of coffee you brought him to a board meeting with the other executives of the company, you slam the door on your way out and don't look back.

it goes like this: you've been in hell for a while, and you're done playing the part of the sinner. so you tell charlie morningstar when she greets you at the hazbin hotel.

she accepts you, welcomes you with, out of all things, a song. too much trouble for dear old you.

"nonsense! everyone deserves to be given their rightful importance!"

that one hit close home.

you don't have the time to thank her before she's introducing you to the staff and the rest of the hotel.

vaggie, staring you down with a suspicious eye, fingers itching to reach for her spear. ah. an angel. fascinating.

angel dust. you have to thank him for being here. after you murder him for calling you an enticing little vixen and winking at you.

husker. former overlord. sold his soul to the radio demon in a bad game of poker.

your hair stand at the back of your neck. static crackles in the air. your ear twitches. alastor's entered the game.

"alastor, it's a pleasure to meet you, quite the pleasure my dear!"

he brings your gloved hand to his lips. even through the thin leather, you can feel the warmth of his breath, the press of his teeth like a warning.

his grin deepens when you introduce yourself in turn. a glimmer of recognition flashes in his eye.

shit.

**

you've always liked to cook. there's something about the glimmering edge of a knife cutting thin slices of meat that appeases you. tonight, you crave some rabbit.

somewhere in the kitchen, the clock ticks the minutes away, time bleeding out. doesn't matter when you have eternity to atone for your sins. 

the watch at your wrist flashes. 2:37. of course, insomnia had to follow you down to hell. it served you at voxtech, back when you were pouring over contracts and meaningless paperwork.

you make your way towards the fridge, hoping to god you'll find something to satiate your appetite.

"ah, feeling peckish my dear?"

you startle.

alastor.

you turn, back facing the counter, resisting the urge to bare your fangs. there he is, slithering out of darkness, a spectre in red. you wonder if it's a reminder of the blood he's shed.

"what do you want?" you snarl.

he laughs, static buzzing in your ears. you blink. when your eyes open, he's inches away from your face, craning your neck towards him - he's tall, that fucker.

"why so aggressive, little vixen?"

his fingers dip down your shoulder, down your arm, until they close on your wrist. his teeth press against the bracelet of your watch, scraping the skin beneath, drawing a drop of blood. the screen glows, a faint blue light in the penumbra of the kitchen.

your breath catches in your throat. he's gorgeous, blue light draped over his hair like threads of moonlight.

he hums, the vibration settling low in your gut.

"i just want a little taste..."

you shiver at that. at the way he looks at you like he wants to devour you, consume you whole. at the way his tongue presses on the cut, lapping at the blood. you tense, biting back a soft, needy little sound.

his leg pushes your thighs apart. you don't realise you've been humping against the warmth of him until his hand settles on your hip, claws digging into your skin hard enough to draw blood.

"behave, little spy."

you laugh at that, baring your throat.

"was it really that obvious?"

he hums, clawed finger trailing down the column of your flesh, pressing against the jugular. he can feel your pulse, staccato little thing beating wildly as you look up at him, lips parted with want.

his smile stretches, impossibly wide.

"vox wouldn't have let his precious little lawyer go." his claws tap against your watch. "and i'd be a fool not to get a taste."

he kisses you. he kisses you, teeth nipping at your mouth until you can feel static against your tongue, until you arch your back against him. you whine, claws digging in his shirt, eager for more. of course, he pulls away. bastard.

"patience, my dear. all good things come to those who wait."

you scoff.

"because seven years and s'more weren't enough?"

a pause. his lips trail down your throat.

"i suppose that's fair."

he bites you, teeth sinking at the junction of your throat and shoulder. you keen, a breathless moan of his name as you feel him grind against you. you shouldn't let this happen. shouldn't revel in the warmth of him, body going limp in his grasp. shouldn't drag his hand towards your aching core, let him press his fingers against your slit and chuckle at how wet you are. you can't let him finger you on the kitchen's counter, can't mewl like a wanton whore.

you do.

you do, his name like a prayer on your lips, hips stuttering, desperate for release. you feel him against you, lapping at your flesh like a starved hound. when he lets you go, there's a spider-web thin string of blood connecting him to your shoulder.

the sight of him takes your breath away.

there he is, eyes half lidded, looking at you. there he is, blood, your blood, dripping down his lips, his chin.

he leans closer, watching you, the way your shiver at his every touch, as his free hand digs in the tender skin of your breast and sinks into the flesh.

oh.

something snaps in you - you're on fire, head thrown back in a silent cry of his name.

on your wrist, the watch flashes blue. alastor grasps your wrist in his hand, bringing it up. it's easy for vox to see you. you, disheveled, red fur a mess of sweat and blood, panting, cheek pressed against alastor's chest. you, nightgown hiked up to your hips. you, legs wrapped around alastor's waist, teeth sinking into the meat of his shoulder to muffle your moans as he drills his cock into you.

vox groans at the sight, pants growing too tight.

the radio demon smiles.

"hope you enjoyed the show, old pal!"

#obticeo writes #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel x you #alastor x y/n #alastor x you #alastor smut #hazbin hotel smut #i wrote this instead of sleeping #alastor what are you doing to me my god #stop

[suzukiblu]

Excerpt from an in-progress DP x DC soulmate AU starring Jazz Fenton, a very unfortunate mugger, and a smoothie. Oh, and I guess Jason is there too.

Jazz meets her soulmate in, of all places, Park Row. Or as the locals call it, Crime Alley.

Seems about right for her life, she decides as she kicks the shit out of the guy who was trying to stab him for his wallet fifteen seconds ago. Her soulmate watches her curiously, seeming unconcerned by the fuss, and takes a sip of his smoothie.

Also seems about right, for her soulmate. A guy who got too nervous when necessary violence happened was not going to survive Thanksgiving in Amity Park, much less Christmas.

Well, it is Gotham.

"Hi," he says.

"Hi, sorry, one sec," Jazz says, then leans over the groaning mugger and offers him a card to the best local crisis center she's managed to track down via research and word of mouth in the four months she's been in Gotham. Not her card, obviously, since she just roundhouse-kicked the guy in the head to protect her soulmate from him and that's arguably a conflict of interest. Or close enough, anyway. "So you should check these guys out, they've got a very high success rate in their job program and there's an associated food bank and rent assistance, if you qualify."

"What?" the mugger says dazedly.

"Also if you ever touch my soulmate again I'll make you wish for the cold mercy of the Infinite Realms," Jazz adds pleasantly. The guy goes very, very pale. Then he snatches the card from her and runs for his life and eternal soul.

"This is the nicest thing the universe has ever done to me," her soulmate muses, taking another sip of his smoothie.

"Getting you mugged?" Jazz asks wryly, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Are you religious? Do you want kids?" her soulmate asks. "Also, who's your favorite Bat?"

"Robin, obviously," Jazz says. "The overdramatic and feral little stabby one, I mean. He reminds me of my little brother. Makes me feel a little bit maternal, to be honest. So that answers two out of three, and as far as religion goes, I only believe in Psychology Today, highly customized guns, and my mom's ninth-degree black belt."

"This better not awaken anything in me," her soulmate mutters under his breath.

"That seems unlikely, or we wouldn't be soulmates," Jazz says.

"Point," he says, sipping his smoothie again. Jazz didn't even know anywhere in Crime Alley sold smoothies, but she is new around here. "Wanna go break my bed? Or maybe go get coffee?"

"You've already got a smoothie," Jazz says.

"So I do," he says.

Jazz looks him over. He's her soulmate, so she's not surprised to find him gorgeous. She wasn't ever expecting a familial soulmate–Danny is a very intense sibling to have, and her parents are very intense parents to have, not to mention everything about Dani, and "soulcousins" aren't typically a thing–and she's never been especially interested in keeping around too many close friends, so considering all that, she was already expecting her soulmate to be a romantic one. If they are platonic, it's definitely only going to be because her soulmate is an aromantic asexual. Which he probably isn't, since he already asked about kids and religion and if she wanted to go break his bed.

Then again, she's met people who'll posture worse than that. Especially guys, and especially ace ones with a clear investment in their masculinity, and given this particular guy is built like a brick house could only dream to be, chances are he has some feelings about his masculinity. Though he's also drinking a visibly pink smoothie, not a neutral-colored protein shake or generic black coffee, so . . . fifty-fifty there, maybe?

Further inquiry will probably be required.

"I'm Jazz," she tells him. "What's your name?"

"Robin," he says. Then he–pauses. Blinks. "I mean–Robin."

He looks very confused for a second, and Jazz blinks too, and refocuses her eyes a bit. Oh, is he–

"Are you overshadowing that guy?" she assumes. For the love of–of course her soulmate would be a ghost, she thinks dryly. Who'd want a soulmate their mom and dad wouldn't want to grill for information and ask a thousand invasive questions, after all? "I mean, he's really hot, don't get me wrong, he looks good on you, but I'd rather meet you for real."

"'Overshadowing'?" Robin looks bemused.

"I'm Danny's sister," Jazz clarifies. Robin does not look less bemused. "You know, the new king?"

"What?" Robin says. Jazz frowns a little, feeling a bit bemused herself.

"Do you not get out much?" she asks.

"Never, actually, but also yes and constantly and way too often," Robin says. "My job is kind of demanding that way."

"What's your job?" Jazz asks curiously. Ghosts' jobs are always interesting, even if only for how they interact and manifest with their Obsessions. She wonders what his Obsession is, actually, because smoothies seem like an unlikely option but she doesn't have much else to go on here.

Can't be weirder than Box Ghost, either way.

"I'm a Bat," Robin says, then looks absolutely alarmed and also absolutely horrified.

"Huh," Jazz says, tilting her head. He seems really big to be one of the Robins, and a little too old besides. A year or two younger than her, maybe, and even the older Robin she's pretty sure is at best Danny's age. Though that's assuming this body is the one he fights crime in, admittedly. Although it's kinda funny if one of the Bats is just named Robin. Must get annoying on patrol, though. "I didn't know any of you were dead, but I guess that's not actually a surprise either, given the profession."

"Why did I say that to you?" Robin asks tightly.

"I told you, I'm the new king's sister," Jazz says. "You know, it's the royal family thing. Technically I'm his regent, legally speaking, but only because I'm better at paperwork and he doesn't count as a legal adult in the Infinite Realms yet. Hasn't been dead long enough, you know how it is. But I've been alive long enough to, apparently? But his 'being alive' technically stopped tracking at fourteen. It's complicated, basically."

"What the fuck does that mean?!" Robin demands.

"It means you can't lie to me because you're one of my brother's subjects," Jazz says, really not understanding his reaction. Every ghost knows this, after all. The only ones who wouldn't know it are too young to be away from their guardians' haunts or even leave the Infinite Realms at all. Definitely a ghost who knows how to overshadow someone this thoroughly and fully is old enough and experienced enough to know it, though. "Whose body is that, anyway?"

"It's my father's," Robin says. Jazz's eyes widen a little and she has several very concerned internal reactions before he chokes and sputters–"I mean–it's not–he's not–!"

"You realize there is no healthy way to mean that, right?" Jazz says. Robin looks frustrated and freaked out and she feels bad about it, because she didn't mean or want to upset him, but she clearly has. "Sorry. I mean, I still secretly feel like I'm the one parenting my parents half the time, you're not the only one with weird feelings about yours."

"I'm his," Robin says, then grits his teeth in visible pain. He's this close to crushing the smoothie cup he's holding but hasn't actually done it. Jazz wonders if that's an example of deliberate self-control or subconscious restraint.

She's pretty sure Robin didn't mean to say that, though.

"Are you okay?" she asks, a little concerned. Normally ghosts just stop talking about things they want to lie about, when they realize who she is.

"No," Robin says. "I'm just his. I've always been his, I always will be, his good soldier, his worst mistake, not his actual fucking son, why am I telling you this?!"

"I don't know," Jazz says, frowning in increased concern. "Usually people can work around the inability to lie a little bit, but you sound like you're being compelled to speak. Increasingly like, actually. Hm. What's your Obsession? And what kind of core do you have?"

"What?" he says.

"They might be making you unstable, is all," Jazz says. "I don't think it'd be a soulmate thing but to be fair I don't really know how that works. Are you dead, or are you a manifestation of something?"

"I'm dead," Robin says, staring at her. "That bastard clown beat my head in with a crowbar and blew up what was left of me. I woke up in my grave and–I–how did you know that?"

"Well, I didn't, that's why I asked," Jazz says reasonably, idly wondering why the Joker isn't dead yet, since this is Gotham and obviously it wouldn't be another "bastard clown" Robin was referencing, even if he wasn't a Bat. But like, at least dead via the court system, if nothing else. The Joker is insane, yes, but no one can argue he doesn't know right from wrong at this point. Does New Jersey just not have the death penalty, maybe? She hasn't thought to check. "Maybe it's the guy you're in? He's not drunk or high or anything, is he?"

"I hate drugs," Robin says, gritting his teeth again; tightening his grip on the smoothie again. He's trembling, just barely. "I hate them. I'd never touch them. I don't know what you are. You're scaring me. Please stop."

He definitely didn't mean to say that, Jazz can tell.

But . . . he doesn't know what she is.

He doesn't know.

Well, that's a problem.

"Robin," she says gently, and for some reason his face twists painfully at the sound of his own name. "Can I see your core? Please?"

#hardcover ship #anger management ship #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #idk which order is 'accurate' here lol #jazz x jason #jason x jazz #rinfic #long post #wip: queen regent jazz and her dead soulmate

[bella-goths-wife]

What would have happened if Vs pet made a deal with a different overlord

So basically we know what would happen if Vs pet made a deal with alastor and obviously vox, but what would happen if they sold their soul to Velvette, Valentino, Rosie or Carmilla instead

Warnings: obsessive behaviour, SA mentions, abuse mentions, forced affection, forced cannibalism, reader is uncomfortable, violence mentions

Velvette:

Now we know that even though you’d still belong to all the Vs collectively, if you made the deal with Velvette instead of Vox there would be a large power dynamic shift in terms of your care

Let’s say that Velvette found you first and was the one to make a deal with you, you wouldn’t be working for vox as his assistant in this scenario and would instead be a model or assistant to velvette

In the usual au where vox owns your soul, he is the one who creates your rules and enforces them

He’s the one who decides whether the other two can see you

But if velvette owned your soul instead then that entire dynamic is turned upside down, she’s the one who makes your rules and she’s the one who decides whether or not she’ll let vox spend time with you

This would absolutely infuriate him, and velvette can’t help but smile at that

Your rules would be much less restrictive if velvette was the one who owned your soul

Unlike vox who sees you as a surrogate daughter figure most of the time, velvette only sees you as a delightful little pet and occasional friend

And she understands that sometimes pets need a walk or a new toy to keep them occupied until she’s ready to play with them again

So you’d be able to leave the tower by yourself more often and you’d be able to hookup with people, but there is still a strict ban on forming intimate connections or starting relationships

Velvette requires your attention almost all of the time, and you can’t give her that if your chasing after some romantic partner

She should be enough of a connection for you!

You don’t need anyone else

You’d still be shared with the other Vs unfortunately as they share everything, so you’ll still have to deal with Valentino and voxs antics

But at least velvette will draw the line if she thinks they take up to much of your time

Your her pet after all, you sold your soul to her

A downside to velvette being your souls holder is that you’d be the weakest with velvette when it comes to your abilities and fighting skills

She doesn’t want you to improve so you don’t, you only use your power for frivolous purposes and for velvettes entertainment rather than actually using like a weapon like you would with vox or alastor

She doesn’t push you to get better, so you don’t get better

You’d have twice the attitude with half the power because of how velvette taught you and how she spoils you with materialistic things

Rosie:

Rosie would absolutely adore you

She has a soft spot for strays, and she’d heard quite a bit about you from alastor before he disappeared

And she once she met you she thought one thought, what a good friend she’d be if she took your soul in exchange for care and shelter before offering the contract to alastor when he gets back from his extremely long break

So she’d give you a job in cannibal town and she’d give you an entire makeover so you’d fit in more

She’d actually spend time to get to know you and what your life was like before you died

She can’t help but miss alastor when your around, you just remind her so much of him

She’d use your ability to create background music for her gossip sessions and for her party’s, but she’d also encourage you to use it as a weapon and practice with it in your own time

So you’d be more powerful than you would be with velvette but less powerful then you’d be with Vox or alastor

A downside to being in her care is that she wouldn’t be as protective as the others

She’s a busy woman who can’t be with you at all times, so there is a slight chance you may end up hurt while being in her care

She’d do her best to prepare you in case that happens, and you like that she offers you enough freedom to come and go freely enough

Another downside to being in Rosie’s care is that you’d have to adapt to her appetite unfortunately, it’s not like you can find a non cannibal place to eat in a cannibal town

So you’d be practically forced into cannibalism

But Rosie absolutely adores you, so she’ll look the other way sometimes if you want to eat something less gorey

She calls it a nice treat :)

Rosie would consider you a companion more than anything, maybe a goddaughter but she certainly doesn’t see you as a pet or a toy

So you’d be pretty happy with Rosie

But she gets so attached to you that when alastor does return, she refuses to give him your soul no matter what he offers

But it’s okay, because she says he can visit you any time in your home in cannibal town

He hates it but oh well, your her little darling fawn now

Valentino:

Oh god

He’d be the absolute worst choice on the list

If you sold him your soul, your guaranteed a situation similar to angel dusts

Maybe less abusive, but wayyyy more obsessive

You’d be a simple actress in a few of his videos until he becomes obsessed with you, and then you become his personal assistant

And when I say personal, I mean extremely personal

As in the ‘sleeps in his bed every night because he’s afraid you’ll run away’ personal

He wouldn’t see you in a romantic light, more of just a ‘your my possession’ light

You’d be absolutely miserable and constantly in his presence while also dealing with the other Vs

He’d force you to do videos for him and instead of your rules he’d use a ‘reward’ system

Rewards like ‘hold me for a few minutes and I’ll let you be on your own for an hour’

He’d be unbearably clingy and can sometimes get abusive with you, the same way he can be abusive with angel dust

You’d also be extremely weak because he won’t let you practice or explore your abilities at all

If he’s there to protect you at all times, then why would you need to be able to use your silly abilities?

He’d at least allow you to have your friendship with angel dust, but that’s only because he’s using you both to manipulate each other

He’d definitely get you hooked on something so you’ll be relying on him at all times

This would be the worst possible situation for you

Carmilla:

Carmilla would be interested in you because of your ability and how she could use it

She’d find you living on the streets and using your ability to get by and she’d wonder if she could incorporate your skills into making a new weapon designed for people with animal like ears which would be more sensitive

So she’d exchange your soul for her giving you shelter and a job in return

You would stay with her and her daughters and you’d spend most of the day with carmilla helping her design new weapons

It would be during this time that carmilla would become more obsessive with you and start to view you as a daughter

You were so young and so vulnerable, it reminded her of her two young girls and how she’d hate it if it was them

So she’d start acting more motherly with you, but she’d do it slowly so you could get accustomed to it

So she wouldn’t go straight to giving you rules and demanding you call her mom, instead she’d just make it more obvious that she views you as one of her family and that she’d appreciate it if you felt the same for her

But once you do accept her in some form, those rules are coming fast

And you know carmilla will not tolerate back talk or breaking rules

You’d have typical teenage girl rules, stuff like a curfew and drinking rules

But she’s still take the time to respect your boundaries and acknowledge that your an adult in your own way so she can’t act too overbearing

Which is more than you can say for the Vs

You’d also be quite powerful in this scenario because she’d give you training sessions to help with your personal abilities and your fighting skills

So I’d say she’s one of the better options

#hazbin hotel vox #hazbin spoilers #yandere hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin charlie #hazbin vaggie #hazbin angel dust #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel #hazbin vox #vox #yandere vox x reader #vox x reader #velvette x reader #yandere velvette x reader #hazbin hotel velvette #hazbin velvette #yandere valentino #hazbin valentino #hazbin hotel valentino #valentino x reader #yandere alastor x reader #alastor x reader #alastor #charlie morningstar #Charlie Morningstar x reader #carmilla carmine #hazbin hotel carmilla #carmilla x reader

[bestosunglass]

Hi! I just wanted to say how lovely and interesting you make your platonic radiostatic :)) I saw your stuff on TikTok and I’m loving seeing it here as well!

I see so much one-sided or romantic radiostatic, and while I love it all, this is by far my personal favorite depiction of their relationship. Your art makes them look like such cuties even while they’re two of the scariest demons in hell <3 my personal fav so far is Al laying with Vox while he recharges it’s just so cute!!!

If you don’t mind me poking your brain of it I’d love to hear more about your AU and headcannons! If you want to bounce off of something specific then I’d love to hear how the residents of the hotel think of Alastor and Vox and if they clump them together or think of them differently.

In any case I adore your art and hope to see more of it no matter the fandom!

I'm really glad you like it!!! I didn't expect it to get this reception at all as I was planning on it being something more along the lines of "Comfort" after seeing so much Angst content, so I'm genuinely glad so many people liked it!<33

As much as I like the ship I wasn't entirely sold on seeing it in a romantic or suggestive context; I rlly love that Alastor is respected as an individual Aroace (as a fellow Aroace lol) so seeing him in contexts of that sort were a bit ... demotivating??? So I wanted to create this Au of them being typical husbands but on a platonic way.

The residents of the hotel definitely have different opinions. On one side is Charlie who sees this as a great miracle, the two great entertainment representatives from hell, giving her hotel a chance! Especially when her relationship dances very well between the two of them; with Alastor there is "the voice of reason", the one who offers a solution and listens patiently and undaunted to whatever news she gives him, where she knows she will find an answer as Alastor chooses the pen over the sword; while with Vox there is the chaotic, where the sword is above the pen. He vocifies his opinions tactlessly and offers the less gentle, quicker and more effective ways. In him Charlie finds far more vivid emotions than Alastor would be willing to unveil.

Then there is Vaggie who is of course the most informed about these two and her concern is very much on the edge as she knows that the Media Demons are a couple that absolutely no one knows anything about beyond the false image they paint in their shows and the imminent danger these two represent.

Angel, Pentius and Cherry don't really have a strong opinion about them as they pass over or ignore them. Nifty is already more than familiar with both of them.

Husk (his relationship with Alastor is considerably "better", even though Al still owns his soul, than it is in canon as Alastor still owning his soul and having a faithful and warm companion with him for years, his personality is arguably somewhat more relaxed and patient than the original), like Nifty is already familiar with them so he doesn't give the matter much thought.

And Lucifer ofc is terrified that it's not just one but two Overlords who apparently want to steal his daughter.

I still have a lot of polishing to do on this Au as it's new but I want to slowly build it here as people can offer different points of view that can be explored (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡

#inbox #hazbin hotel #broadcast husbands #hazbin hotel au

[signedkoko]

Hi hi! I want to request a gn reader who is the closest thing Alastor has to a best friend, right hand man type feel. Like Reader is a sinner and had to make a deal with Al for their soul, but Reader is so honest when they talk and act that Al is all "they aren't so bad." Alastor calls on the Reader first almost everytime and Reader is like, "This is the least worst situation. Let's not screw it up" as they throw their all into whatever Al needed them to do. So when Alastor tells them to get a job with Vox to spy on him, there's a groan, then a fine.

Sorry if it's a bit jumbled, I had a thought and ran with it. Also, could I be 🗑anon

Alastor X Reader [Platonic]

In which you are the only person Alastor might consider a best friend. Reader is genderneutral.

While you'd sold your soul to the demon a long time ago, you certainly had perks that most others under his control did not

In fact, you didn't even act as if Alastor 'owned' you; you did your own thing and respected his wishes as best you could, and Alastor just never seemed to mind

Perhaps that was a front; no one was certain; all they could tell was that Alastor certainly favoured you

Anytime an issue arose and he was busy, he would leave you in his place, and by god, you never did disappoint

Actually, most people prefer it when it's you; you are far less worrisome to be around and a lot less mysterious about things

The only thing you didn't talk about was yours and Alastors history

Whether that was part of some binding agreement or you were just scary good at diverting the topic whenever it came to what you did in the past

Typically, Alastor's duties for you include watching over his other souls, going to the tailors, or doing 'whatever Charlie asks of you!'

Otherwise, you'd be at his side, usually the two of you watching the rest and making bantering commentary about the hopelessness of the people in the hotel

Unfortunately, being so close meant that Alastor really trusted you with difficult tasks

Were you capable? Absolutely!

But did you want to? No.

Because he tells you so much, he probably goes to great lengths to make sure you aren't accidentally 'letting things out'

Which means no technology when working with him

You found that out the hard way

" Oh yes! Do you have a phone I could borrow? "

" Uhh - yeah, sure. Here. "

He crushes the device instantly

" What the fuck. "

The one thing about you is that you prefer the easy way out, and as Alastor puts it, you have hidden talent that you are 'too lazy to use', but you couldn't care less

You'd do anything he asks, both because he is your friend and because you technically have to, according to your soul binding

But you will be grumpy about it the entire time

Being so close with Alastor means you also hate Vox by proxy, so any mission involving him is just miserable

Fortunately, Vox doesn't know you, though, so you really were Alastor's best bet when he wants a spy on the inside

" Do I have to? "

" Of course you do, deary! Now pick up that smile and get marching! "

Author's Note - He is such a menace to his friends, I love writing for platonic Alastor. Thank you so much for requesting, and welcome to the blog, bin anon!

#koko writez #hazbin hotel #helluva boss #hazbin hotel x reader #helluva boss x reader #reader insert #x reader #alastor #alastor x reader

[wannaeatramyeon]

Adventures of YOUR part time job in the Lookismverse

G/N. You work the graveyard shift in a convenience store. You meet bizarre characters on different nights. Part 1 | Part 2

The customers can usually be separated into 3 categories.

Drunks, students, and weirdos.

Unfortunately for you, lately the weirdos have turned into regulars. But fortunately the weirdos aren't so weird.

The one that made it a habit to check in on you, with the scars and the cheesy wink wasn't so bad. Jack, was it? You can't remember and it's been too long for you to ask. You awkwardly address him as 'you' and avoid any situation where you need to use his name.

He likes to ask how you are, tell a few jokes. Spirit undeterred even when you look at him with a blank face because bless his soul, he's not funny at all but at least he tries and he's a lot less weird than first impression.

He hangs around at odd times, then again you do only work at odd times. Telling you stories about this and that. Something about Big Deal, something about a guy called Sinu and something about another guy called Samuel.

It's difficult to keep track. It's like he wants to talk but he's cryptic and god, it's 4am who can blame you if your eyes are glazing over.

John, or is it Jerry, is waffling again. He seems to always be talking about Samuel. Who he apparently misses and wonders where it's gone wrong and hang on, he's never been explicit but you just had to know.

When he takes a breath to munch on a cookie, you ask, "Hold on, is Samuel your ex?"

Wait no his name is Jason, definitely Jason- freezes mid-chew, "Why would you say that? He's my friend!"

Joshua sprays crumbs all over you but you note how he doesn't say no.

(You think you see this Samuel one early morning. You’re pretty sure you’ve seen him before and man, he really looks like shit.

Looks like the breakup is getting to him too.

Poor Samuel and Poor Jim.)

.

.

But sometimes weirdos are just weirdos. 

It's ok. It comes with the territory so long as they're not in the habit of hurling abuse or whatever, you can deal with it.

In recent memory, there's only been two people that you have had to almost chase out with a broomstick.

You should have known they would be weirdos when one of them walks in in surprisingly teeny tiny purple camo shorts. Not that you're a pearl clutcher, but you're worried that one wrong move and he could be dangling out.

Besides. Purple. Camo. Shorts. Those words should never follow one after the other, and you repress a shudder at this guy's hideous dress sense when he comes up to you.

You thought the other one was alright, at least there's no hideous purple camo shorts in sight and his hair is nice (huh, this style must be popular, you’ve seen a lot of guys with this hair)-

But then he opens his mouth and asks for snakes and you think it's karma for judging camo-guy for his appearance when his friend is equally odd.

"We usually keep the snakes next to the ramen," you deadpan and the two men actually go to seek out the supposed snake (meat or pet purposes?) only to return moments later, empty-handed and looking confused.

"I think the snake is all sold out," Non-camo guy says as camo-guy glances around as if you might have hidden your snake stock elsewhere.

They must have thought you were stupid as you stood there opening and closing your mouth like a fish (or maybe a snake, do snake do these things), because come on, how are you even supposed to formulate a response to that?

Then you look at their eyes and also notice them looking snakey and surmise it must be some weird fetish thing. Pretending to be snakes and eating snakes and having pet snakes.

You want no part of this and tell them to get out.

.

.

"I'm Baek Hangyeol," a new face says, pointing to his ID badge pinned to the white coat. 

"Doctor Baek Hangyeol." He stresses Doctor and Hangyeol and you wonder if he is waiting for a round of applause.

You don't say anything but you do notice he looks like a teenager and what idiot would let a teenager operate on them. (Drunk, student, weirdo. He could be all three.) Doctor Baek Hangyeol must be bluffing.

You decide not to call him on his bullshit. 

"Cool," is all you respond with because you don't want another complaint for being too mouthy. You are half tempted to tell him you're not a doctor, that you just work here but that seemed kinda redundant so you keep your mouth shut.

"Do you believe in true beauty?" he asks when you finish bagging up his goods (a plain water with added minerals, a bottle of multivitamins and a protein shake) and you think what sort of question is that.

You give a halfhearted shrug and say "Sure" and he hands his business card over.

"If you're ever considering it," he tells you with a wild smile. After he has left you look down at the lettering, eyes zeroing in on ‘Plastic Surgery’.

Excuse me?! What is he trying to say?

You thought he was a weirdo but now he has firmly shifted over to asshole. You regret not telling him to go fuck himself while you had the chance. The complaint would 100% be worth it. Zero regrets.

On your break, you burn the card and feel a small sense of satisfaction.

.

.

A tall blonde guy with a creepy vibe (hold on, have you seen him before, he seems familiar. Then again, creepy blonde guys seem to be quite common around here-) walks in with the most billowing coat you have ever seen.

The entrance is kinda cool but the actual coat is kinda tragic with the cheesy red lettering and you wonder if you can pull it off any better than him.

You're still wondering about his coat when he's paying you, and hang on you have definitely seen him before because he says arigatou and hands over yen and you tell him no. Won only.

The idea of the coat, which has evolved into you fantasising about having a full blown cape, quickly loses its charm however, when the blonde gets caught in the automatic doors and you have to wrestle them open to free him.

Afterwards, you ask if he's ok, if he is harmed and can’t resist asking if the coat is ok too. You really don't want a lawsuit on your watch especially when the malfunctioning doors are not your fault.

Your kindness is repaid by him telling you he's not interested (what the fuck) and that his heart will not stray (again, what the fuck).

.

.

You accidentally eavesdrop on a couple of students lamenting about missing out on school work. You didn’t mean to eavesdrop ok, the aisles are tight and cramped, it’s a small space. 

You peek over, and the one with big ears (seriously, they are huge) is telling the one with his back to you (goodness, his back is huge too) that school is important and he’s got notes the other one can use. 

It’s sweet, you think. School is important and it’s good they recognise that. Nice of them to help each other out too.

When they both come to pay (holy shit, that’s a fuckton of chocolate milk), you’re surprised to find Big Ear’s friend, Big Back, looks anywhere between late 20s and early 40s but it’s never too late to catch up on education, you suppose.

You spend the rest of your shift feeling motivated.

.

.

“Going camping?” you ask the guy with the sandy blonde hair, chuckling nervously and ringing his items through. 

Either he’s going camping or he’s gonna kill and hide a dead body in the forest.

He’s pretty stoic, only giving you a curt nod. You can’t help but probe him a bit more. You’ve got a feeling that if or when the dead body turns up, you want to at least clear your conscience that you’ve tried your best so you make some more idle small talk.

You mention how you haven’t been camping for ages, not since you nearly burned your tent down and singed your hair after you tried to cook some marshmallows over a fire that turned out to be more of a raging bonfire (and might have awoken your pyromaniac streak, but you keep that to yourself).

The blonde guy actually pipes up and says “Master Taesoo would never do that.” 

You almost apologise out of principle due to how earnest he sounds, then he mentions something about how good this Master Taesoo is at catching and cooking snake and you wonder what the fuck is up with people and the snake obsession.

Either way, it doesn’t sound like someone is getting murdered. Only a snake (poor snake) so at least you can sleep easy later that day.

.

.

“Oh hi DG,” you say, “Sorry about your cryptocurrency falling through. Diegocoin was it?”

He blinks at you a few times in surprise and heavens above. What’s that saying, fool me once, shame on me; fool me twice, shame on you? This guy has fooled you exactly no times with his shitty disguises and his effort has substantially dwindled too. 

He has only put his hood up and you did think you might get mugged at one point-

It’s an empty store, for crying out loud. Who comes into an empty store in the asscrack of night with their hood up, not wanting to draw attention to themselves.

Then you notice the pink hair and shifty glance and duh.

“Is it the-?” he asks, putting his hood down and signalling to his hair.

“Yeah, it’s the-” you signal to your own head of hair. “Dude you really need to dye it if you’re going for subtle.” You pause, consider something, “Hold on.”

You walk over to the beauty aisle and grab the black hair dye.

“On the house,” you tell DG because this guy really has no self awareness.

.

.

“What do you mean no?”

“No." Your boyfriend peers down at you, arms crossed and at the end of his patience with you.

You open your mouth to argue- 

“No. You know nothing about Taekwondo. How can you work here?”

You look around helplessly at the studio. He’s not exactly wrong but you’re sick of dealing with the weirdos and the snakes and the creepy blondes. “But your dad-”

“I don’t care what that stupid old man says,”

“Taehoon!” Hansu scolds from the other side of the room, and Hansu's class of toddlers all whirl their head around to stare.

“I can learn?” you offer and Taehoon raises one skeptical brow.

“So you’re going to be a student?” You nod enthusiastically, “And we’re going to pay you for that?”

Oh. Damn. 

He’s got you there.

#lookism #lookism x reader #lookism fic #jake kim #jake kim x reader #samuel seo #kwak jichang #kwak jibeom #baek hangyeol #baek hangyul #ryuhei kuroda #jace park #euntae lee #vasco #hudson ahn #diego kang #james lee #seong taehoon #seong taehun #taehoon x reader #wannaeatramyeon #ok ive sorta lost it

[musickgeek]

Trust [Angel Dust x Reader]

Warning: This chapter is a bit heavy. Implications of sex/sexual assault. If Ep4 is rough for you, this chapter would be too. About 2k words

Everyone in Hell knows who Angel Dust is. Famous porn star, stripper, partier. An overlord's pet. Many thought his life to be exciting, or maybe fun. I thought it was sad. I know that life doesn't exude happiness. So when I saw him in the street, I couldn't help but approach. He quickly eyes me up in down, taking in my somewhat timid stance. He smiles, and immediately goes in for the kill.

"Hey gorgeous, can I help you?" He gets close, sliding one of his hands up my arm, one playing with my hair. "Oh...no thank you..." I lift his hand by his finger and give it back to him. "Oh come on, baby cakes, no need to be shy." He insists. "I'm not interested in that, I just wanted to ask...are you okay? Do you need...a hug?" My voice becomes less sure by the second. He immediately scrunches up his face. "What? What kind of weird kink is that?" I can't help but laugh. "Why are you kink shaming? Down here? No, that's not my kink." He crosses his arms. "Then what? You think I need your pity?"

"No."

"Then what?"

"I think you need a little care is all." He just stares at me like I grew three more heads. "You don't have to say anything, I just thought I'd ask, see if you just wanted to talk to someone." I tell him. He looks over me again, much more skeptically this time. "Not to be as forward as you, but what did you do to end up down here? You seem a little too, uhh...soft...to be hanging around here." I smile sadly. "Up there, I was exactly what you are down here." He frowns at the weight in my words. "I hope you have a good day, Angel." I say meaningfully, walking away before he can respond.

~~~~~

The next time I run into Angel is a complete accident. I'm not paying attention to what's in front of me, and I barrel into someone. "Ah shit, what's your prob- oh... it's you." He recognizes. "Yeah, sorry. I was lost in thought. But how are you? How's it going?" I ask politely. He scoffs. "Small talk don't pay the bills." He mutters to himself. "It could."

"I-What? Gonna pay me to talk you? How sad are you?" He deflects, obviously flustered that I'd heard him. "I'd pay if it meant you were safe for a little while." I elaborate. He looks like he's going to make a snarky remark, but stops himself. He sighs, and sits on the curb. I take the place next to him. "How much would you have given to get that offer?" He asks. "Everything." I admit. "I'm sure you can handle yourself, you have to to survive this life, but doesn't mean a break can't help." He shrugs. "You talk like you stopped doing all this."

"... No, I didn't. It's just not so...aggressive? I just don't know anything different. I think I've been getting better. I don't seek it out anymore. I just...don't turn it down. Well except alcohol, but everyone's gotta have a vice right?" He smiles, understanding in his eyes. "You're not like most people are you, sweet cheeks?" He asks. "No. But neither are you. I mean we're pretty similar aren't we? I also would have thought I was a freak." He frowns. "At least your didn't sell your soul for this shit."

"Not down here, no. But I still sold my life away." I shake my head. "You're a good guy, Angel. I hope you find the way out. I'm certain there is one." I get up to go, but he grabs my wrist. We both look at his hand like we're surprised it's there. He blushes a little before letting go. "Sorry, I just-uh, I'd like to see you more."

"I'm good company, huh?" He rolls his eyes, but smiles. He hands me his phone, and I put my contact in. He stands, and wraps four long arms around me. "You were right. I did need a hug." I hug him back, needing it as much as him.

~~~~~

We were fast friends, and didn't wait long to admit we wanted more. On the first date, Angel wanted to come home with me. I told him I was tired. On the second date, I was too busy. Months went by without any action. I didn't want him to think that's all I wanted from him. I wanted him, and myself, to build a relationship built on comfort, trust, and innocence. Not to mention how nervous I am to be that close someone. I could tell he was getting frustrated, and not just sexually. He was a lot more willing to share intimate information then I was. He told me about Valentino, about his time alive, and readily shared his problems. I always answered his questions as vaguely as possible. I'm not used to someone wanting to know, nor am I used to sharing in general. I've always lived with my cards close to my chest. While he had friends that helped break those walls down a bit, I did not.

One night I was waiting at the bar of the hotel for Angel to get home. Valentino had him late. That moth fucker makes me so mad, I could kill him. He'd deserve it for everything he's done. I'm broken out of my murder plans by Husk's voice. "So you and Angel haven't exactly 'consummated the marriage' huh?" I nearly choke on my drink. "Huh? That's random. What-what gives you that idea?" My voice gets all squeaky, my face feels hot. "I'm the bar tender, when people get drunk, they give their problems to me. And right now, his biggest problem is you. He thinks you aren't attracted to him, or he's doing something wrong. Says you don't trust him."

"I didn't mean for him to feel bad, I just wanted him to know I care about him beyond sex! We've both lived lives where that was all there was. And I'm just so scared. I don't want to mess it up, and I want us to be in a place of complete comfort with each other. Obviously I'm attracted to him, have you seen him? There's not exactly a guidebook for all this. I just don't know how to trust, I guess. But that's not his fault." Husk smirks, looking behind me. I turn and find my lover. He's looking at me, mouth agape, through his bedazzled sunglasses. "I...think we need to talk." He says seriously. I simply nod, embarrassed. He takes my hand gently and leads me to his room, away from prying ears.

"Why didn't you just talk to me, (Y/n)? If you just weren't ready, I would obviously understand. Did you seriously think I of all people wouldn't understand?" He throws the glasses on the vanity, and paces anxiously. Okay, he's mad. "Angel, it's not like that."

"Then explain it to me! You don't want to trust me?"

"I do!" He comes over and grabs my hands, he looks at me with the most sincerity I've ever seen. "Then do it. Please." I'm overcome with emotion. "Angel?" He cups my face. "Yes?" I smash my lips to his. It's intense, passionate, incredible. This isn't our first kiss, but it's the first with so much heat. I slide my hands down to the hem of his shirt. He breaks away. "Are you sure?" I nod wordlessly. "Is that okay?" I ask. "Absolutely." He kisses me again and again and again, every action eager. We move to the bed, separating as little as possible

~~~~~

"Fuck, Angel, that was..."

"Mind blowingly amazing?" He says excitedly, almost giggling. I laugh, winded. "Oh yeah. It's been so long since I was really into it, you know?" He pulls me into his arms contently. "Yeah, I get ya, toots."

"(Y/n), can I ask you something personal? I mean, I feel like I share a lot with you, but you're so closed off." He's not wrong, but I don't admit it aloud. "Go ahead." Maybe it's the endorphins, but after all this, I know I can trust him. "How did you die?" I can't help but laugh. "You don't hold back, do you?" I can feel the tears burning in the back of my eyes, and the panic rising within me. I haven't spoken about it since I died, and I never thought I would. Angel senses my oncoming attack, and holds me tighter. "I'm sorry, you don't have to-"

"I was on my own leash. Told me who to sleep with, told me how, controlled what I got out of it. He used me, I was at his beck and call. And one night, I... I couldn't take it anymore. I stood up to him, and he got so mad. He-He started to hit me, throw me around. I was already so weak and sore from the days work, I couldn't fight back." I'm crying, my grip tightening on Angel. "He said I needed to learn my place, said he'd fuck me into place if he had to. He trapped me between himself and the floor, and kept beating me. I was helpless, I was caged. He took his pants off, and it went dark-" I can't take it anymore. I yell out angrily and rip myself out of Angels grasp.

"Don't touch me!" Gasping and breathing erratically, I sit on the edge of the bed clawing at my chest and throat. I refuse to look at Angel, but I can feel his shocked gaze. "Shit! He probably fucked my corpse and threw me in a gutter! He's probably walking around here somewhere." I feel like air is being squeezed out of my chest rather then going in. Am I going to puke? That's be embarrassing. Angel's voice sounds far away until I hear my name.

"(Y/n), stop! I'm here, he's not. You're safe. Listen to me." He doesn't touch me, but slides off the bed to rest in his knees in front of me. He looks so beautiful and innocent. "Breathe for me, darlin. Follow me, okay?" I copy his deep breaths and slow exhales, struggling at first, but eventually I stop shaking. Even more exhausted now, I slump over, and he grabs me. He moves us back to a more comfortable position in the bed, and I nuzzle into him like a lifeline. "I'm so sorry." He whispers. I don't know if he means for asking or for what happened, but I don't ask. He kisses the top of my head, and whispers sweet nothings. "I trust you, Angel."

"I trust you, too."

#hazbin hotel #hazbin #vivziepop #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin angel dust #hazbin hotel spoilers #hazbin x reader #angel dust x reader #hazbin fanfic #hazbin hotel fanfic #angel dust #angel dust fanfic

[shadowdaddies]

Hellooooo 🫶🫶

I have another request if that's alright :)

Can you do one where Az meets his mate in an Illyrian camp but she's pregnant with another males baby(a male she was basically sold to by her family like a forced marriage) and he finds the guy and beats the ever loving shit out of him and whisks her away to the House of Wind and just worships her? But can you make it like soul crushingly angsty?

Thank you and you don't have to if you have to many reqs rn 🫶🫶

whew this is a long one and tbh it could've been a whole series. It's quite angsty but with a very fluffy ending. It's a different writing style for me so idk how I feel about it but I hope you enjoy it💜

New Hope

Azriel x f!Reader

Warnings: depictions of DV/abuse, some suggestiveness, non-sexual nudity

The first time Azriel saw you was in Emerie’s clothing shop. You had convinced your father to take you to her store for your engagement dress, an agreement he begrudgingly made in exchange for your cooperation in the marriage. 

You were browsing through the fabrics, eyeing a lapis blue silk piece when Azriel entered, the cold air rushing in behind him sending a shiver down your spine. The door closed, yet the breeze continued, whipping around you erratically. Confused, you looked up from the fabrics to see a blushing shadowsinger watching in horror as his shadows swarmed you, dancing and weaving through your hair and clothes. 

The giggle that left your lips at the scene made Azriel’s heart leap in his chest, the male breathless as he was struck by the sight of the most beautiful female he had ever seen. When you turned to face him, the shimmering fabric in your hand reflected the light in your eyes, and time stopped. The world tilted on its axis as a thread in Azriel’s chest snapped, and he understood who he was looking at. His mate.

Just then, your father grabbed your arm, drawing you out of the moment as he tossed the blue fabric to Emerie, declaring that it would be sufficient for the engagement dress. Azriel’s heart sank in his chest. Of course the cauldron would have him meet his mate when she was already engaged to someone else. 

It was then that the shadowsinger made the decision - that as long as you were happy with your husband, he wouldn’t interfere. However, after that day, Azriel found himself inventing every excuse to venture to Windhaven, just to see you and make sure you were okay. 

One day, you approached him in town. He was shocked that you recognized him, both of you unaware of the draw that you felt towards him.

~~~

The marriage was loveless. You knew that your husband didn’t truly care for you from the moment you met, but it was an advantageous arrangement for both families that you be wed. It broke your heart to learn that you would be married for anything other than the love you dreamed of as a little girl, but you clung to hope, and believed that you and your husband might learn to love one another over time.

That never happened. After the wedding, a new side of your husband revealed itself. At first, he shocked you by raising his voice, making callous and cruel comments - but that was nothing new for you as a female in Windhaven. Life was lonely, often times you found yourself crying silently until you fell asleep, terrified as your husband became increasingly aggressive, and sometimes violent. 

It was one day that you poured the milk out of the window at home to give yourself an excuse to head into town for more, when you saw Azriel. You had noticed the shadowsinger around Windhaven far more over the past months, and you were grateful for his presence. Although you didn’t know him, seeing him around gave you a sense of calm that you couldn’t describe - the world was a little less lonely. Unsure of what invisible force was guiding you across the street to where he stood, your feet acted of their own accord as you found yourself standing a foot away from Azriel. 

“Hi, Azriel,” you greeted, a pleasant smile on your face. Despite the freezing temperatures, the feeling of those shadows dancing through your hair brought you a joy like you had never felt before. 

Hazel eyes widened as the spymaster looked at you with surprise. “You know my name?”

You giggled, the sound like music to Azriel’s ears as you nodded. “Of course, everyone knows who you are.” You didn’t include how often you had thought of him since that day in Emerie’s shop.

The two of you started up a friendship after that. The highlight of your day was when you were able to escape your husband, finding your best friend in town - the male in the shadows who always made you feel seen. Azriel was kind, unlike any other male you had known, his warm smile always making you feel safe. 

And then you were pregnant. You cried, unable to find the energy to leave your house for days when you learned you were going to have a child. Growing up, dreaming of having a family of your own, you never envisioned that it would be like this. Your husband came home from the tavern to find you crying, smacking you across the face with the back of his hand. When you cried harder, he hit you again. The tears only stopped falling when your vision finally faded to black, and you lay unconscious on the floor.

You awoke the next morning, pain radiating throughout your body. The glance you dared in the mirror wasn’t necessary to tell you how you must look, but it was confirmation. Dried blood trailed from your nose, black circles under your eyes from the pressure of how hard he hit you. 

Silver lined your eyes, but tears would not fall. A new sharpness edged your expression, mirroring the resolution you felt inside. This male would never make you cry again. You quickly left the house, headed towards Emerie’s shop in desperation for help. You didn’t care what it would cost you - your child deserved a better life than Windhaven.

~~~

Azriel almost fell to his knees when he saw you for the first time in nearly a week. He had accepted the fate that you no longer needed his friendship, that you were happy with your husband. But when his shadows whispered to him that you were injured, cobalt siphons glowed as the shadowsinger barely leashed his concern. 

A lump formed in Azriel’s throat when he took in your appearance. The scarf that you had pulled over your nose to cover most of the bruises didn’t disguise the scent of your blood - or your pregnancy. He hardly registered that you were carrying that male’s child, his main focus on what happened to you. 

His heart might burst at how your eyes lit up when you noticed him in the street - how you ran to him, your body so small compared to his as you wrapped him in a hug. That bursting heart shattered when he heard your wince as he hugged you back. “What happened to you?” Azriel murmured, deathly quiet.

You swallowed, looking up at him with those beautiful eyes that had turned his world upside down that day in Emerie’s shop - those eyes that now seemed so hollow, missing the life they once held. Unable to find the words of last night’s events, you could only manage to tell Azriel, “I need to get my baby out of here. I can’t... my husband will never be near this child.”

The venom in your voice as those last words left you told Azriel everything he needed to know. “Do you trust me?” You nodded, still clinging to Azriel as tight as you could without hurting yourself. He pressed a kiss to your hair, wrapping you gently in his arms. “I’m going to get you to a home and a healer.”

~~~

No sooner had the words left his mouth than you found yourself engulfed by shadows, spirited away to a cozy living room in a large, warm home. “Welcome to Velaris,” Azriel whispered, gently turning you around to face the view of a beautiful city unlike that which you’d ever seen. The sun was setting over the mountains, casting a pinkish hue across the sky and you thought you must be in paradise. “Come on, I’ll take you upstairs to clean up.”

Azriel took your hand, helping as you slowly climbed the grand staircase up to a luxurious bedroom. It was tidy, with a massive bed and a seating area around a hearth, a crackling fire casting a warm glow over the room. The space smelled like rain and cedar, and you realized that you were in Azriel’s bedroom. 

Grief hits at the worst times, and in the strongest waves. And it was grief - for your old home, for your child’s life with a father, for any hope of what you dreamed your life would be - that overcame you as you crumpled to the ground, sobs tearing from your body as Azriel knelt in front of you. 

Finding the courage to look up, you found hazel eyes watching you with a tenderness that you had never felt before, and the breath left your lungs as the cord snapped in your chest. Azriel let out a noise between a laugh and a choked cry as scarred hands held your battered and bruised face. “You... You’re my mate?” The words left you in little more than a whisper, the hope behind them more dangerous than you could allow yourself to feel. 

With a soft smile and a somehow softer touch, Azriel brushed the hair that had fallen into your eyes, tucking it behind your ear as he nodded. “I promised myself that I wouldn’t intervene as long as you were happy, but I will be here for you. As a friend, or whatever you need. I am yours, and I will care for you and that baby as much or as little as you want me to be. I am here for you.” 

His words ignited something in you - a hope that the love and the family that you had dreamed of was possible. Without another thought, you pulled Azriel into a searing kiss, his eager reciprocation the validation you needed as you allowed yourself to enjoy this moment. You pulled away, forehead resting against Azriel’s as you breathed, “I want you. In every way, I want you, Azriel. You are the best thing in my life, and I don’t want to part from you.” 

Azriel’s smile was brighter than the sun. “You have me,” he whispered, “and I will spend the rest of my existence loving you.” 

You couldn’t tell how long you stayed there, holding each other on the floor of the bedroom before Azriel dared to interrupt the moment. “I have a bath ready for you in the other room.”

Looking to him with mock offense, you gaped. “Are you saying I smell, shadowsinger?” 

The laugh that left his lips fueled you with enough joy for years to come, Azriel leaning forward to kiss the tip of your nose. “Not at all, but the healer, Madja, is coming soon, along with Rhys and Feyre. I thought you might want to clean up before Madja tends to you, and I will bring you some clean clothes.” 

Azriel helped you up, the male respectfully looking away as you undressed and stepped into the tub, immediately relaxing your aching muscles. You giggled at his propriety, reveling in the twitch of Azriel’s wing at the sound. He cleared his throat, announcing that he would wait in the other room when you winced. 

Azriel whipped around, his eyes wide as he searched you with concern. Giving him a weak smile, you slowly lowered your arm that was reaching for the soap. “I don’t think I can wash my hair myself. Would...you be able to help me, Az?”

He swallowed thickly, giving you a slight nod as he mutely moved behind you. You laughed slightly at his obvious nerves. “I’m not shy, Az. Don’t worry,” you promised. He seemed to relax slightly behind you as his hands lathered your hair with soap, gently massaging it into your scalp. You bit back the tears that threatened to spill as you realized no one had ever taken care of you like this in your life - instead reaching your hand up, Azriel meeting you halfway as he held it, lowering to press a kiss to the bruised skin. 

Angling your head back, you looked up into those hazel eyes, pulling on his hand in silent request. Azriel leaned down to kiss you softly, but you wanted more, deepening the kiss as you pulled him further. Azriel stumbled, catching his balance as he almost fell into the water. 

He chuckled, sitting back up to rinse out your hair. Azriel’s eyes darkened as he scented your arousal, shaking his head at the smirk that played on your lips. “As much as I would love to pleasure you right now, Rhys just informed me that they are almost here.” He walked around to the side of the tub, crooking one finger under your chin. “And when I do make love to you, I plan to worship you until my body gives out.”

A shiver ran down your spine at the promise, your mind struggling to stay focused as you took the towel from Azriel and stepped out of the bath. You got dressed, sitting down on the bed just as a knock sounded at the door. The High Lord and High Lady entered, waving off your attempts at formality as the healer introduced herself.

The High Lady - Feyre - as she insisted you call her, stayed with you the entire time as Madja tended to your injuries and checked on the baby. Azriel stood in the corner with Rhysand, the two males talking in hushed tones. 

Madja cleared you and the baby, giving you several tonics to take for your injuries and told you that she would be back in another week to check on you and the baby. Feyre and Rhysand didn’t linger long, Madja insisting that you needed the rest and that the “chit-chat” could happen later. 

You patted the space next to you in bed, inviting Azriel to come sit, and laid your head on his chest as you let your eyes drift shut. “Az, what were you discussing with the High Lord? If you don’t mind me asking.” 

You felt him tense behind you for a moment, silence hanging in the air as Azriel seemed to weigh his words carefully. “Rhys has been made aware of what happened to you, and we’ve made sure that those responsible will not be responsible for any further pain, to you or anyone else.”

As understanding dawned on you of what Azriel meant, you were surprised at the lack of sorrow you felt for your husband and father. Rather, you felt a deeper peace for the first time in your life, as both you and Azriel brought your hands to rest on your womb, a silent promise that your baby would have a better childhood than you had. That together, you had a renewed hope for a better life.

#acotar #acotar x reader #acomaf #azriel #azriel x reader #acotar fanfiction #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fanfic #acotar fic #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #acotar azriel #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel fanfic #azriel x reader angst #azriel x reader fluff #acotar azriel x reader #acotar imagine #acotar angst #acotar fluff #acotar reader fic #acotar reader imagine #azriel acotar x reader #acotar x you #rhys #feyre #emerie #azriel imagine

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

Steddie Upside-down AU Part 16

Part 1 Part 15

Steve doesn’t know Eddie well enough to be able to tell if the way he’s bouncing is excitement or nerves. Either way, he’d all but bolted up to sprint to the phone hanging from the wall in the kitchen. It’s an ugly beige and has one of those chords that you can twirl around and around your fingers as you talk.

Steve and Will stand a few paces back, watching as Eddie picks up the phone, and presses it so hard into his ear that he’ll be able to hear the ocean out of it.

Eddie’s bouncing on his toes, but as the seconds tick by, he slows, then stops, heels planted to the ground. He hangs up the phone, hangs his head, planting his palms on the countertop like he needs its support to stay upright.

“He must be at work,” Eddie says.

Steve inches forward, laying his hand on Eddie’s shoulder and squeezing. The other boy takes a shuddering breath, before turning around, shrugging out of Steve’s hold.

“Do you want to try your parents?” he asks, looking Steve’s way.

He swallows the lump in his throat, forcing the words out. “Nah, they’re out of town.” He waves his hand breezily, like he couldn’t care less about his empty house. His absent parents. “Maybe we should try Will’s Mom again?”

Eddie’s eyes look sad and soulful, wet like Bambi’s. But he doesn’t say anything, just turns toward Will who’s still dawdling by the refrigerator. “We should try your Mom again,” he says. “But didn’t you say the Demogorgon came?”

Will wilts, the smile blooming on his face dropping before it’s even fully formed. “I think the phone got fried anyway.”

Steve’s not jealous of a pre-teen. Especially one trapped in a hell dimension being hunted by monsters. That’d be too fucked up to comprehend. “Dude, she loves you,” Steve says. “She definitely bought a new phone within like, thirty seconds.”

Will Byers beams, clearly a Momma’s boy through and through. Steve Harrington is not jealous, really. He’s not.

“How long ago did you talk to your Mom?” Eddie asks.

Will scuffs his already scuffed shoes against the carpet. “This morning, I think,” Will says. “But then the Demogorgon came, and I was running away when you found me.”

He says “found me” like Steve and Eddie are the best thing to ever happen to him. It runs through Steve like an electroshock, sends his skin buzzing in a way he can’t tell whether it’s invigorating or frying him from the inside out.

“Okay, so we should wait a little bit,” Eddie says, walking back and forth in front of them like a general to his soldiers. “Chill on our laurels, get some sleep, and come at this thing fresh eyed and bushy tailed tomorrow when the risk of Demogorgon sighting has gone down.”

Will bounces on his toes, once, twice, three times before seeming to catch himself. Oh, god. There are two of them. Steve may not survive long enough to meet Byers’ Mom, and it won’t be from a Demogorgon attack. It’ll be from two over-enthusiastic nerds.

Steve sighs. “What’re we going to do until then?” Steve asks. “It can’t be bedtime yet, just look at the sun.”

The twin looks of condescension he gets for that one are identical enough that he has to dig his teeth into the laugh that wants to burst out.

But then they look at each other, and it doesn’t seem all that funny anymore. Because Eddie’s smiling like the grinch right before he robbed all the who’s down in Whoville, and Will’s puppy-dog eyes could be charged as a lethal weapon.

“We could play D&D?” Will asks.

Steve groans slapping his hands over his face and rubbing them down harshly, even though the game is sort of fun. Even though it might be more fun with three people. Even though he was sold the moment that Will Byers looked at him with those eyes.

“Fine!” he says, throwing up his hands. “Let’s play your stupid nerd game.”

They gather around the coffee table, Eddie and Will leaning against the couch, Steve an island all on his own on the other side.

“Will, do you DM or should I?” Eddie asks, like the title is something grand to be bestowed upon someone. Like Will just got named Prom King and he’s asking if he wants the crown on his head.

“Maybe you can this time?” he asks, looking up at Eddie through his fringe.

Eddie nods. Steve settles his elbow on the table, sinking his cheek into his palm as the implications of “this time” run through his head.

“What’s your race?” Will asks, eyes glued to Steve.

Steve lifts his brow, shifting his gaze to where Eddie’s cringing away from Will. “We’ve, uh, sort of been playing with training wheels on?” he says, like it’s a question.

“Class?” Will asks, looking horrified. “Stats?” Eddie grimaces. Will sighs, turning back to Steve. “Do you have a character?”

“Sir Steven.”

“He’s definitely a human fighter,” Eddie mumbles, fidgeting with his rings like he’d committed some horrible sin.

“Okay, well, you’re supposed to roll the dice when you create a character so that you know how your character will react to things. Does that make sense?”

Steve nods even though it doesn’t, ignoring the way Eddie scoffs. Will fishes a little bag out of the pocket of his vest, dumping a pile of black dice. Steve recognizes the one with the twenty sides, but there’s a square one, a triangle one, and one shaped like a diamond he’s never seen before. He kind of wants to put them in his mouth, maybe swallow them.

Steve rolls a die for each stat, nodding along like it all makes sense. Eddie runs into his room for paper and a pencil, dutifully writing each number down.

When he passes the paper to Steve, he doesn’t know whether he should be insulted by the number for intelligence or flattered that Munson apparently thinks he’s charismatic. He keeps his mouth shut, not wanting to drop his score any lower.

Steve nods along while they discuss modifiers and alignments, but something of his confusion must show because Will and Eddie dial it back.

Will’s character is some sort of wizard who can cast spells and shit. He talks about his figurine, which Steve deduces is a little action figure like he saw in Munson’s room specific for his character, and the costume his Mom made for him to play, expression faraway.

They play. It’s more complicated this time, and when it becomes clear that Steve is struggling, Will scoots to the other side of the table to help point out which of the dice he should roll and what math he should be doing.

It’s fun, and they kick Xanthar’s ass, even if Steve’s pretty sure Eddie takes it easy on them. He tells himself it’s for Will’s sake, but the glimmer of humor in Eddie’s eyes makes it hard to hold onto that sentiment.

Will’s jaw-cracking yawn as they go over the story (campaign?) signals the end of the night. The poor kid’s eyes are drooping.

“Alright, bedtime for all the kiddies!” Eddie says, jumping up far too energetically for the end of the day they’ve had. “That means you, Harrington.”

The bed’s not big enough for all three of them, and Eddie’s bedroom doesn’t have enough floor space, so they huddle together in the living room. Will takes the couch after a thorough browbeating, huddled under two blankets and what must be Uncle Wayne’s pillow.

Steve and Eddie move the coffee table so they can sleep beside the couch, keeping their bodies between Will and the door. They make a nest of Eddie’s bedding and pillows.

Will’s breathing evens out quickly, poor kid. Steve stares at the ceiling. The silence drills into him until he can almost feel it, making him tense and tense until Eddie scoots close enough that their arms are touching.

The single point of contact seeps warmth into Steve’s bones. He closes his eyes, reveling in it.

“Should we really be wandering around with a child when there’s a monster running around?” Eddie asks, his breath whispering against the shell of Steve’s ear.

With his eyes closed, it’s easy to picture that thing, the Demogorgon. The way it’s claws curved, the way its face opens, and then opens again. The sound it makes. So, no. Steve doesn’t want that thing anywhere near the kid, but—

But.

“We’ve got to get him home, Munson.”

Eddie sighs, breath tickling the flyaways along Steve’s hairline. “Yeah,” he replies. “I guess we do.”

Steve falls asleep before Eddie moves back away, that single point of warmth following him into his dreams.

Part 17

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