#little witch and little painter
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Over the past few months I’ve been OBSESSED with BJD and doll customizations and I finally did one last night!!
This is my Penny’s Box custom of Red Fox, the Last picture above was the before, and I am absolutely in love with her ahhh she is SERVING!! I’m really proud of it ahh 🥺🦊🍂
Some progress pics below! I also unstrung her to do some body blushing, I also edited her outfit to suit her new colour palette a little more! (Her original socks were also bright orange but I found these brown ones on kikagoods and liked them way more!!)
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#art#artists on tumblr#artwork#beetleboyoart#bjddoll#bjdphotography#bjdoll#doll custom#doll customization#BJD customization#pennys box#pennys box BJD#little witch and little painter#designer toys#vinyl toys#doll
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The Tyrant Witch
Heres a messy crossover sketch of Madoka magica x Twst wonderland! It's been stuck in my brain but I don't think I can do the witch-style justice with my skills ;-;
#I might do more if I feel like it#the little rose men are the familiars#little painter men#as much as I love drawing roses it would feel wrong if I didn't use a real picture of one for a witch#crossover#crossover fanart#madoka magica#madoka magica witch#twst wonderland#twisted wonderland#riddle rosehearts#twst riddle#twst overblot#twst fanart#madoka magica fanart#also I WOULD do rose witch or something but Gertrud exists already#maybe Playing Card witch?#eh. Tyrant witch works still
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I have acquired some desk babies...save me desk babies
#doll#bjd#mal talks#I did not know that you could get plastic bjds that come predesigned#like blind box nendos#these are nagi exhange student#and the smaller one is little painter and little witch
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little puppet kingdom ⭐️
+ the background since I'm very proud of it
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Tarot October BPC | Day 31
The World - Wrap-up 🌎
Read only 4 books but very happy with them, considering how much work I had this month. And the tarot cards go back in the box now ✨
#tarotoctoberbpc#little thieves#emily wilde’s encyclopaedia of faeries#yumi and the nightmare painter#the secret society of irregular witches#booklr#mypics#books#bookblr#read#wrap up#book stack#bookshelf
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youtube
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Opening up the penny’s box bjd blind box series little painters & witches dolls set
#penny’s box dolls#penny’s box bjd#penny’s box antu#penny’s box#penny’s box blind boxes#penny’s box little painters and witches#tiny dolls#bjd doll#tiny witch dolls#Youtube
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Yay! New friends!
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Who will they be?
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Oh, a friendly acorn boy!
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And a sleepy little child, so cute!
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Their names are Tobey and Bobble!
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They fit in well with the group!
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Left to right: Tobey (he/they), Aisling (she/they), Yue (she/her), Bobble (he/him), Ollie (he/she), up top is Miel (she her), and the sleeping pukipuki in previous photos is Gwin (they/them)
#bjd#abjd#penny’s box#blind box bjd#pukipuki#bonnie the journey of streets#antu nature’s wonderland#teenar campus series#puppet kingdom little painter and little witch#my dolls
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my brain: you should write lars fluff
me, a huge fan of identity shenanigans: say no more *already pulling out a comically large folder of lars WIPs* so here's what i was thinking: blah blah blah blah blahblah blah—
*spongebob narrator* a few moments later
me: —and so that's how he starts suspecting—
my brain: yeah, yeah, whatever. what if you wrote clarence though
me:
me: you know what. you're so right. gonna go smooch the archmage brb
#rambles by aya#for all time#AGSJJSISKS READING MASH'S LOSTBELT MANGA CHAPTER WAS A MISTAKE#i hate archmages i hope your wife tucks you into bed at night and kisses you on the forehead then goes off to murder your enemies#mage trios always have a chokehold on me is this why three is the magic number#ik this is primarily an otome game blog but GIVE HIM BACK TO ME *breaks down* give me my doctor back...#i'm glad little painter gets to keep HER archmage#i don't think i could cope now that i've made a vague and tenuous connection <- merlin is a prob a better fit btw#agahsjjs also morgan's backstory specifically the part with uther... i need to torture one of the lbc boys#my vote is cael or alkaid!!#WAIT ICE QUEEN MC!! REINCARNATION?? WITCH X HERO SENT TO KILL HER???#“my husband” but it's mc mixing up the past and the present
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Identity V New Merchandises Release
Identity V "Weird Gallery" Series
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Merchandises List
Acrylic Keychain
Acrylic Stand
Heat changing card
Mug
Requiem Paper Storage Case
Viper Sweater
#identity v#idv#idv prisoner#idv painter#idv wu chang#idv little girl#idv dream witch#luca balsa#edgar valden#xie bian#fan wujiu#idv memory#idv yidhra
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˗ˏˋ ᵖʳᵒˡᵒᵍᵘᵉ· aesthetic sideblog tags ﹕ part six.
#˗ˏˋ ᵖʰᵒᵗᵒˢ· edits ﹕ one big darkroom.#˗ˏˋ ᵈᵒᵒʳˢ· working for the knife ﹕ the good nurse.#˗ˏˋ ᵈᵒᵒʳˢ· for a better world ﹕ master of disguise.#˗ˏˋ ᵈᵒᵒʳˢ· beneath the mask ﹕ master of disguise.#˗ˏˋ ᵈᵒᵒʳˢ· slipping through my fingers ﹕ master of disguise.#˗ˏˋ ᵈᵒᵒʳˢ· of monsters & men ﹕ the kaiju biologist.#˗ˏˋ ᵈᵒᵒʳˢ· weird science ﹕ the kaiju biologist.#˗ˏˋ ᵈᵒᵒʳˢ· come what may ﹕ penniless writer.#˗ˏˋ ᵈᵒᵒʳˢ· the ship is sort of sinking ﹕ penniless writer.#˗ˏˋ ᵈᵒᵒʳˢ· of monsters & men ﹕ the jaeger pilot.#˗ˏˋ ᵈᵒᵒʳˢ· a heart of glass ﹕ the jaeger pilot.#˗ˏˋ ᵈᵒᵒʳˢ· a strange magic ﹕ the witch.#˗ˏˋ ᵈᵒᵒʳˢ· straight for the castle ﹕ the wizard.#˗ˏˋ ᵈᵒᵒʳˢ· everybody loves me ﹕ the wizard.#˗ˏˋ ᵈᵒᵒʳˢ· adventure awaits ﹕ the linguist.#˗ˏˋ ᵈᵒᵒʳˢ· somewhere only we know ﹕ the linguist.#˗ˏˋ ᵈᵒᵒʳˢ· losing my religion ﹕ the hot priest.#˗ˏˋ ᵈᵒᵒʳˢ· work of art ﹕ the traveler.#˗ˏˋ ᵈᵒᵒʳˢ· one day i'll fly away ﹕ the lost prince.#˗ˏˋ ᵈᵒᵒʳˢ· running up that hill ﹕ the lost prince.#˗ˏˋ ᵈᵒᵒʳˢ· hope is like the sun ﹕ the lost prince.#˗ˏˋ ᵈᵒᵒʳˢ· land of dreams ﹕ hollywood agent.#˗ˏˋ ᵈᵒᵒʳˢ· little drop of poison ﹕ the scream king.#˗ˏˋ ᵈᵒᵒʳˢ· people are strange ﹕ the scream king.#˗ˏˋ ᵈᵒᵒʳˢ· who's sorry now ﹕ the heartbreaker.#˗ˏˋ ᵈᵒᵒʳˢ· this is me trying ﹕ the animator.#˗ˏˋ ᵈᵒᵒʳˢ· writer in the dark ﹕ the paleontologist.#˗ˏˋ ᵈᵒᵒʳˢ· how to dream ﹕ the bookkeeper.#˗ˏˋ ᵈᵒᵒʳˢ· let it rain ﹕ the painter.#˗ˏˋ ᵈᵒᵒʳˢ· remains of the day ﹕ the groom.
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i wish i were heather...
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synopsis: you were under the impression that you were stable in your secret long-term relationship with three of the four marauders, until it becomes clear that you aren't the girl they want anymore. (so you think). will you lose them before its too late? or have you already?
pairings: fem!reader x poly!marauders ` poly!marauders x lily evans
warnings: NO LILY SLANDER!! SHE'S PERFECT AND BEAUTIFUL AND ITS NOT HER FAULT!!, cusswords, ANGST, depressing, a blip of reader skipping meals on the radar but it's srsly nothing crazy, insecure reader, the marauders besides peter are dicks, reader is a little naive, the marauders borderline cheat on you, no happy ending, there might still be one thoughhh, possibly slytherin!reader if you squint?,
part one in the conan gray series
A/N!!: In some of the fic i use colors to represent a certain character! Orange is Lily, Red is James, and Green is Barty :3
wc; 2.4k
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LIFE WAS AMAZING, which is not usually how stories begin.
You felt so safe and secure in your secret relationship with Hogwarts' once most eligible bachelors... The Marauders.
The rush of excitement that coursed through your veins every time you shared a hidden glance with Remus, or hiding in the showers of the Gryffindor boys locker room with James after his quidditch victory, and sneaking off to empty classrooms where anyone from anywhere could catch you with Sirius.
It was heavenly, these boys were all you would ever need.
until... now.
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You were in Remus' sweater, he said it looked better on you than it did him. If only he knew how much you liked him...
The fireplace erupted with a citrine glow, illuminating the Gryffindor common room beautifully.
Most impactfully, it lit up Remus' scar-kissed features.
His freckles looked as if they were painted onto his face with careful hands by a renaissance painter.
His eyes half-lidded from his lack of sleep from the incoming full moon that was slowly approaching, it pained you to know how much they hurt him.
For once, Remus wasn't in a sweater. Since his was rested comfortably on your body, as your scent comforted The Wolf greatly.
And his scent comforted you, too.
Remus' book had suddenly landed on your lap, and though it startled you a bit. You didn't bother to ask why, until you sat up.
Remus was locked in a passionate conversation with Gryffindor's resident golden girl, Lily Evans.
"Evans, it's lovely to see you."
"Same to you, Lupin."
Godric, was she beautiful.
"I just stopped by to see if you had gotten any of the Defence Against The Dark Arts homework done?"
Lily Evans was as radiant as an angel who blessed anyone with her presence.
"I have; actually, I just finished my paper."
Remus seemed mesmerized by her, the golden gleam from the fire painting her features gorgeously in that same citrine glow as Remus'.
"Could I have a look of it? Not to copy it- obviously, I just want to see how others are wording the question."
You weren't even half as pretty as Lily.
"Of course, and I know you'd never cheat."
"You're the smartest witch in our year."
You tried not to mind other girls flirting with your boys.
Just because you knew that later that night they'd be back to your boys again, and only yours.
As she was about to go, she planted a soft kiss on the side of Remus' cheek, leaving him blushing softly as he bid her goodbye.
Your heart clenched, it was merely a pleasantry. You were being dramatic.
"Are you alright, dove?" Your head perked up at the sound of Remus' voice.
"Hm? Yeah, I'm fine." You mused, albeit a bit absentmindedly.
"Are you tired?" He asked carefully.
"I am, actually..." You forced a sweet smile onto your lips, as he leaned down to kiss them softly.
That kiss was the last one that felt anything more than a chore, an obligation.
That was also your last kiss with Remus.
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Cheering James on at the quidditch pitch was just the thrill you needed after that melancholy moment with Remus.
He soared through the field like he was on top of the world, the players scattered around the pitch for one common goal: to win.
Gryffindor had won the game with 60 points, and James had caught the snitch like usual.
This game was also a rain game.
Just as you were about to head down to showers when you spotted Lily excitedly trailing after James.
You knew full well that James chased Lily tirelessly since they started school, that was also well before you came into the picture.
You also knew that she wanted nothing to do with him or the other marauders, so what was with her infatuation now?
Why your boys? She couldn't find her own boys?
But maybe she was just being friendly, right? The boys would never ever cheat on you... right?
You heard Lily giggle as James so graciously held the curtain open for her to enter the locker room, and your heart clenched.
You followed them in, jealously.
"James?" You called, as James poked his head from the changing area. Sweat glistening off his abs.
"Hi, Y/N." He shut the curtain behind him, as if he had something to hide.
Also; he barely just called you by your first name.
"You didn't come to see me after the game?" You questioned, grazing his cheek gently as he spoke."
"Sorry, Y/N. It was a long one." He excused, as he clearly looked a bit flushed.
"You look red, are you dehydrated?"
"Godric, y/n. you are hardly my mum."
You giggled as if it was a joke, yet he seemed quite stone faced.
You cleared your throat embarrassingly once you realized.
"I... just wanted to congratulate you on another win." You forcefully smiled again.
"Thank you, I really appreciate that." Then, he flashed his classic grin at you.
The grin he hadn't flashed at you since he realized he genuinely liked you.
What the fuck?
"Victory kiss?" You asked quietly, with some false hope mixed in.
"Of course." He pecked your forehead quickly, before hurrying off back to his changing area.
And with that, you had also left the steamy tent and outside into the cool, soft rain once more.
A forehead kiss? whenever he used to give you victory kisses they'd be full-on make outs in that same changing room or the showers.
James was falling out of love with you, and you knew it.
Luckily, you could easily disguise your tears with the excuse of it raining.
"Victory kiss?" Lily mewled, from her position on the stool in his changing spot.
"Just on the forehead, lovely."
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You stopped showing up to breakfast, as the one time you decided to go Lily was sat in your spot next to Sirius.
Dorcas was nearly at her wits end with the boys and their antics.
The motley crew of Slytherins were the only ones who knew of your relationship, and they were pissed off.
"Treasure, surely they aren't fucked enough to know that you are the best thing they've ever had!" Barty explained, laying upside-down on his bed across from you.
"I-It's no use, Jr." You cried softly, mirroring his position yet on your bed instead. The tears (and blood) rushing to your hairline instead of your face because Dorcas said 'Your makeup is too pretty to ruin, love.' .
"There is a use, Y/L/N. we'll kill them-"
"Jr, absolutely not." Regulus chided, rubbing your shoulder. "She's clearly upset, I don't see the issue."
"Murder is never a good option, Barty." Dorcas scolded gently.
"So what are we gonna do then? My Treasure can't go on like this!"
"You said you've already talked to James and Remus? Maybe you can go talk to... eh... Sirius." Clearly, that name was hard for Regulus to get out.
"*Sniff* yeah, yeah- I'll go talk to him..." You sat up half-hazardously, and strutted out of the dorm-room to go (hopefully) save your relationship.
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You still remember the third of December.
Sirius lounged on the couch while speaking with the other marauders, about some sort of prank on the other group of Slytherins.
"And then, we'll-"
"Hi, Siri." You sat next to him, beaming up at him (hopefully).
"...y/n." He greeted casually, before continuing to talk.
Your smile faded, as he continued to talk to your other boyfriends friends about this horrible prank.
Instead of leaving, you sat quietly next to them, as if you were some decoration or trophy wife.
This was truly your breaking point, as you saw Lily sit down on the couches of the common room as she caught all of their attention, you hadn't seemed to do that for ages. Though, she was wearing something familiar...
Remus'... sweater...
Remus'- YOUR Remus' sweater.
"How's it look?" Lily asked, giving them a twirl. Their eyes locked on her.
"Gorgeous, doll." Sirius flirted, shooting her a wink.
"Truly a sight for sore eyes." James grinned.
"It looks better on you than it did me." Remus took her hand and helped her sit down on the couch in between him and James.
That's exactly what he said to you...
He put his arm 'round her shoulder,
suddenly you got colder.
She's got them mesmerized... while you die.
But how could you hate her?
She's such an angel...
But then again you wished she were dead.
"Why would you ever kiss me?" You asked impulsively.
"What?" James looked up from Lily, all eyes on you.
"I mean- I'm not even half as pretty."
"Y/n, You're overthinking it-" Remus started it.
"You gave her your sweater!" You shot back.
"It's just polyester!" Remus defended.
"But you like her better." You felt the tears rush to your waterline.
"We're done." You whispered, leaving Lily looking so confused and the common room dead quiet.
"What does she mean by that...?" Lily seemed horrified.
"We... weren't really dating.." Sirius attempted to defend.
"Yes, we were, you tosser!" James shoved him.
"You said yourself that you were bored of her!" Remus stated matter-of-factly.
"Was I seriously the other woman?" Lily mewled, her hands clutching the sides of her head.
"Nonono- No, we were planning to break up with her but- because we all wanted you-" Sirius tried again.
"Then don't fuck around with her feelings just to get me!" Lily yelled, standing up quickly.
"I appreciate the admiration- but I need time to process, okay? You all were absolute... arseholes to her, I'll admit." Lily started,
"Are you saying no?" James quickly cut in.
"...No..." Lily ended.
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After crying your eyes out to Barty and Regulus over your breakup, December 7th rolled around.
The day that students were meant to be studying for their OWLS and other end of term exams.
You would usually be in the library 24/7.
Lily, had finally come around and accepted the boys' proposal, and their relationship became public quickly.
Lily obviously still felt this bitter taste of guilt in her mouth, as did all of them.
So today, Lily had convinced them all to apologize to you for borderline cheating and lying and manipulating and gaslighting-.
But, you were nowhere to be found.
"Regulus! Regulus, wait up!" Lily ran through the hallways to get to her.
"Evans, Brother.. Potter... and Lupin.." She said those last three names with utter disgust.
"We're trying to find Y/n, have you seen her?" Remus asked quietly, he was definitely feeling the most guilt.
"Y/n? Well, If she was here, I think she'd completely refuse to see you lot." Regulus explained bluntly.
"W-What do you mean "If she was here"?" James questioned.
"I mean, Her, Junior., and the Rosier twins completed their OWLS early and hightailed it to Junior's holiday house for the rest of the break." He explained casually.
"What?" Sirius scowled.
"What the hell is my girl-... Y/n doing with them?" James had the same expression as Sirius.
"They are simply better friends then you were to her, hm? I don't blame her."
"When will she be back?" Lily asked breathlessly.
"End of December, If she ever returns." Regulus strolled away, potions book in hand.
"...We fucked up."
Fin.
#marauders era#fem!reader#sirius black#remus lupin#marauders#fanfiction#james potter#poly!marauders x reader#sirius black x reader#remus lupin x reader#lily evans#no lily slander#fanfic#angst no comfort#angst no happy ending
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I am being brave and wandering into your ask box so you can ramble about the ghost au. It looks neat and I'm so curious owo
YAY YEAH YIPPEE!!!
Okay I'm just gonna try and synthesize all of the random notes I've written in the last few days into something of a vaguely coherent list lol
Grian and Joel are roommates looking for a new flat when they get the call that Grian has inherited a house, they very impulsively and foolishly decide to keep the thing that is way too large and far too run down for the two of them to handle, the house is so incredibly haunted, normal bbc ghosts plot ensues
Grian is the one who almost dies and ends up being able to see ghosts. Mumbo is the one who pushes him out the window. Which is ironic bc Mumbo was very much not pro killing the new inhabitants of the house when the other ghosts were scheming ways to get rid of them.
Okay so ghost facts.
Bdubs is obviously highly based on Robin the caveman, I imagine him being slightly closer to the end of the paleolithic period than Robin. I think he may or may not have had some weird cult stuff going in. Weird cult leader caveman guy worshiping the sun and moon. Yes the cloak is real moss. There's bugs in that thing
Wels and Hels killed eachother in a duel, right on the property line, which now neither of them can cross in death. So now both of them is just stuck on either side of the fence seething about it for the rest of time. I like how ridiculous and arbitrary the ghost property line rules are in ghosts, so I find this incredibly funny. Hels is the guy Black Knight stories are based on
Ren wasn't actually a king, he was some type of noble who tried to declare himself king of a specific area, hence the beheading. Whooooooo let's go treason!!
Cleo was not doing actual witch craft at the time she was accused of it, she was however probably doing other illegal and vaguely fucked stuff. Mayhaps that's why she was accused, someone wanted her out of the way and that was an easy and surefire way to get rid of her
Keralis. My silly silly little guy. Our Kitty stand in. I just thought the idea of him dying from pufferfish poisoning was really funny considering him and XB's whole thing. I wanna have XB around, I can't decide if I want him to be a marine biologist of some kind who drowned on the next property over that keralis talks to over the fence, or if he's just like a grounds keeper who takes care of the lake next door that keralis is parasocially obsessed with lol
Beef. Beef my beloved. Period piece romance novel protagonist looking mf <3 He grew up in a family of butchers, became an impressionist painter instead of joining the family business. Focused a lot on pastoral scenes, especially stuff involving farm animals and especially cows. His family thought his career choice was kind of useless and frivolous, his artist colleagues thought his choice of painting subject was kind of frivolous. That's where he got the nickname 'Beef', now it's all anyone remembers him by, AND the fucking paints killed him 😔
Scar!!! The scammiest fucking traveling salesman on the planet. Death of a Salesman death of the American dream type vibes on that guy. He's gotta pay his medical bills somehow man, can't even really blame him for all the grifting. He probably should've been more careful with who he was scamming though, he maybe pissed off the wrong guy (do not scam mobsters! They will have someone kill you about it!)
Xisuma, given the greatest honor of being my Captian stand in. He was a sharp shooter, until his eye got fucked up and he lost his good aim. They shipped him off to the country side to work in 'intelligence', he takes his job very seriously despite this obviously just being somewhere they put him to not have to deal with him. Seriously enough in fact to discover a spy in their ranks! Just in time for that spy to kill him real bad. Damn.
Joe my absolutely beloved. Pat stand in but not quite. He was a popular radio host, he did a lot of volunteer work as a voice/performer for hire. He gets recruited to do some announcer work for a scouting event. There is, mayhaps, a much more. Uh. DIY. Scouting event happening on the next property over. There is an accident involving some homemade fireworks next door (cubfan. when I get you cubfan.), the fireworks going off scares some kid in the middle of fucking around with a bow, Joe gets shot, you can assume the rest. Cub is ghosting around next door cause of the fireworks accident if it makes you feel any better lol
Mumbo my stupid nervous guy. Ran a large tech startup in the late 90s, should not have been given that kind of power over a company. Accidentally did like. A lot of finance crime. Found out about said finance crime and immediately had a fucking heartattack and died from the panic. My cringe fail businessman I love you
Yeah yeah okay so neighbor ghosts. Cub, Hels, maybe XB, and Gem.
Etho is their weird annoying neighbor, he can also see ghosts, but it'll take awhile for everyone to figure that out.
In the same way Grian can see ghosts bc Mumbo tried to kill him, Etho can see ghosts bc Hels tried to kill him (haven't decided how exactly that went down yet)
I've been thinking about what to do with the basement ghosts and I think I want to put team zits down there.
Uh. Other human cast. Jimmy is around! He kind of fills an Obi type role, silly friend who is just kind of around a lot. I think I wanna have Lizzie as like a local barista Joel has a crush on. The ghosts get in his way every time he tries to make a move on her.
Obviously a lot of the ghosts aren't strict one to one fill ins for the original show's ghosts. Ren and Beef are both kind of drawing elements from both Thomas and Humphrey, Wels and X are both kind of drawing from Fanny and Cap, Scar and Mumbo both kind of combine to make up Julian's character. So on and so forth. All of the stuff with Etho and his property's ghosts is obviously all stuff I just did cause I thought it was fun lol
Oh yeah! Ghost powers! Okay obvious stuff, Bdubs has Robin's ability to fuck with lights, Cleo has the same burning smell as Mary, Mumbo can push stuff like Julian. Non obvious stuff. I want Joe to be able to be heard through like radios and phones and such. Hels has to have something to have almost killed Etho but I've yet to decide what that is. If Hels has something I think it would be funny to then have Wels also have the same power, but like. Weaker. So he can be pissy about it. Obviously.
Uh yeah that's all i can think of off the top of my head
Anyways, yeah!!! That's the basic constructions of this au. I had this idea like 3 days ago and have. Obviously thought about it a lot in that time lmao
You can't put two pieces of media in front of me and not expect me to go insane about it <3
#atlas speaks#hc ghosts au#I've gotten like 5 other asks in the time it took me to type all this omg#I'll go through those in a bit to see if there's anything i can elaborate on#I'm so glad people like this au it's infested my brain so fucking bad#glad i can inflict it on other people#long post
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My Darling, My Honey
Alastor X Fem!Reader (Part 3)
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
Quick Notes:
This is when both reader/you and Alastor are both alive. (... we'll probably end up in hell later on btw so stay tuned...)
Reader is an artist/painter.
Part 3:
Shutting the door to your house, you slide down to the floor, back against the door. Your hands come up to your chest, clutching the fabric of your shirt, heart racing.
Looking around the room, you felt suffocated. Every inch of the wall had some reminder of your husband, paintings, photographs, newspaper clippings of every accomplishment and accolade of his. It made you want to tear your hair out.
A silent scream leaves your throat as tears run down your face. Silent crying was something you've mastered after all these years..
But never have you cried and broken down like this, with something giving you a glimmer of hope. That something was Alastor, he made you feel appreciated, you felt free when you were with him, like all your worries were washed away and you were helplessly in love.
With the realization that you were in love, your hands fell to the ground with a quiet thud. For too long had you suffered the control, the physical and mental abuse at the hands of your husband and your family that only saw you as a pawn- a means to an end for them.
The tears dried up as you sat there silently for hours till the sun rose, feeling like an empty husk of a human. It took you a long time before you could collect yourself.
Though you felt so weak, you had to go out and do some errands. Having to keep up the image of perfect housewife, after all.
With a vacant and empty look in your eyes, you left the house, barely presentable.
You didn't even know what you were going out for, but you'd find something, anything.
During your walk around town, looking for something to buy so you wouldn't go home empty-handed, an odd feeling and urge came over you to take a route home that you've never taken before.
The way you took this time was full of twists and turns, leading to many shady backstreets and alleyways.
One sign reading "Arabella's Apothecary" caught your eye, prompting you to enter.
The door opens with a chime, the shopkeeper giving you a smug smile, "Welcome in dear, how can I help ya this fine morn'?" You nervously tell her that you were just looking around.
The shopkeeper, who you found out was indeed Arabella, like the sign outside indicated, "You know, people don't just come in here for nothin'... Hun, I think we both know you're looking for a key to freedom."
Arabella's words shook you to your core, "A... key? T-to freedom?" You laugh nervously, wondering if this woman was a witch. But then it came to you, maybe you did need... something.
She laughed at your face, "Bwahaha, I can read you like an open book! I'm no witch, I just deal in... specialty medicines, you might say."
After a short conversation with Arabella, you find yourself in possession of some arsenic. This little powder was your freedom, and you thank your lucky stars that fate guided to this back alley hidden apothecary shop.
During the week of your husband's absence, you didn't visit Mimzy's bar at all, actually. You were planning your husband's demise. You had to be methodical, careful, every single minute detail needed to have a plan and a backup plan- including your escape and how you would remove yourself from suspicion of being involved in your husband's death.
When your husband opened the door, announcing his return, you felt a pit form in your stomach. The bile rose in the back of your throat at the thought of freedom being so close and yet so far.
According to your plan, your husband would be dead in the next couple of weeks. It would be hell to not visit Mimzy's bar in hopes of seeing Alastor again, but if everything went according to plan, you'd be free of your shackles. So two weeks, give or take a few days, was nothing compared to the near decade of pain you've had to endure.
There were a few close calls during this time, but your husband was just diagnosed with food poisoning each time until he was found dead at his desk at the office he worked at.
You had slowly poisoned him slowly and consistently enough to evade suspicion. You knew this much when the police came knocking on your door informing you that your husband was found dead. The gates holding back the flood were unlocked, and you crumpled to the floor crying. The police tried to console you, but little did they know that you secretly crying from being overjoyed at the news.
At the funeral, your family and in-laws looked at you with distaste and all they did was tell you to get out of their faces, telling you what a disappointment you were for failing as a wife to keep your husband happy and healthy.
That was all you needed to hear. You turned away from them and left town, not bothering to stop by your home. You left only with the clothes on your body, making your way to Mimzy's bar. If anyone was able to help you, it would be Mimzy, your only true friend in the world.
You get to Mimzy's bar a bit too early, sometime in the evening, as usually the bar only opens late at night. So Mimzy was prepared to ward off any suspicious people that could get the bar/speakeasy in trouble, but she rushed up to you immediately, fawning over you, seeing you in all-black funeral attire with puffy eyes, " (Y/N)! Darlin'!! What happened to you??"
Mimzy ushers you into her office, gives you a warm cup of tea and a blanket as she barrages you with more questions. You smile weakly at her and make her promise not to tell a soul, and she pinky promised that she would take your secrets to the grave. And she kindly offered for you to stay with her as long as you needed.
You took Mimzy up on her offer, but you offered to help out at the bar for as long as you did. It was the only way you would accept her generosity.
-> Part 4
#hazbin#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel alastor#alastor x you#alastor hazbin hotel#alastor x reader#hazbin alastor#alastor x y/n#fanfic#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel x you#alastor#radio demon#alastor the radio demon#x reader#x you#x y/n#part 3#reader insert#fem reader
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sebastian x shy reader
⚠️image not mine⚠️
Summary: sebby notices how shy and quiet you are so he gets attached to you
warning: slightly suggestive teasing sebastian being a bit mean the reader is implied to be neudivergint
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you were walking around helplessly as you walk by eyefestation and it's green aura terrified you so you ran away to avoid radiation poisoning you walk threw the hallway your legs started aching from how long you've been walking as you sat down near the wall you saw a vent open and then you heard a person's voice "Hey over here~" You gotsurprised is that a human? Or another monster trying to trick you but you since you had no other choice because you're scared and a little shaky and desperate for someone to help you As you crouch threw the vent you looked up to see large fish man not just any fish man he's a handsome fish man witch made you nervous "Welcome Welcome don't be scared I won't hurt you I'm sebastian and I'm your only friend ~" "..h.hi..." Seb noticed the red tinting on your cheek and smirked "I'll give you a deal you give me the research you got from your runs and I give you your needs~"
"OH...ok..." you got the item's you need and leave "Bye~" "B..bye.." Sebastian smirked and Chuckled "Hehe how cute~" Since that you became his favorite customer your quiet and sweet you never flash him your everything he ever wanted He also loves the funny noises you make he wants to start a conversation with you As you got badly injured by one of the painter's guns and you ran out of medkit so you walked helplessly to sebastians shop and crouch threw the vent "Welcome back sweetheart what can I get for you~" "Oow..I..I n..need..m..med..medkit.." you lay down in tears and then sebastian frowned as he saw you bleeding so he picked you up and sat you down "Aaww how can someone just shoot up an innocent expendable like you don't worry I'll take of you~" As he bandaged you up he decided keep you until you get better He wrapped his tail around you In a cuddle "You know expendable I've never got to ask what you're real name is" "Oh..well..my is y/n..." "Wow that's such pretty name you got~" "..Thanks...." Suddenly sebastian started to leave a kiss on your cheek and you started to turn really red "Aaww what's wrong y/n never been kissed before? that's adorable~" You became more red "Hey y/n how about I became your first kiss hhmmm~" "...sure..." As sebastian grabs your soft waist he places His lips on to yours you closed your eyes the kiss lasted in 20 seconds "Mmmmmm you taste so good~" "Hehe...and..y..you taste like tuna..." Sebastian Chuckled as he Lay's you down down to rest "Sweet dreams cutie~" "..good..night.." As you started sleeping peacefully sebastian starts playing with your hair the end Author's note:I hope guys liked it:3
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the devil i know
chapter three: i smoke out your darkest side
(repost)
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fic tag | fic playlist | fic masterlist
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pairing(s): crossroads demon!eddie munson x fem!reader
summary: Your favorite accidental demon boy toy maims your piece of shit manager, learns a bit about your past, and visits you in a dream.
cw: explicit, witch!reader, reader is 21+, eddie is immortal, deal with a demon, inspired by american and european folklore, sacrilegious themes, wet dreams, lucid dreaming, handjobs, skin on skin grinding, teasing, horror, very intense bodily harm done to a minor character (tongues are lost), blood, gore, bullying/harassment, mention of past abusive ex, dead dove: do not eat
please check masterlist and individual parts for content warnings before reading. this fic contains dark themes. your media consumption is your own responsibility.
ALL OF MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI
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EASTWICK, YOUR JUNIOR YEAR
The book you found at the garage sale a town over has to be fake. Right? You’ve spent weeks flipping through it, looking at the pages and reading the words over and over, trying to somehow carve them into your memory.
It seems so improbable, but the notion bounces around in your skull for so long that it grips hold somewhere in there, wiggling down into your belief system until you just can’t seem to get rid of it.
Magic is real. Witchcraft exists. It has existed, in different forms, throughout history. You’ve just never considered that you could practice it for yourself, until now.
Part of the reason that you decide to try it is that you want to see what’ll happen. You have an insatiable curiosity, and if it works out, you may have just discovered the cure to all that ails you, so to speak. But the other part of it is a quiet desperation for something more.
Being sixteen sucks. But being sixteen in a small, puritanical town that’s stuck in the past, when you’re considered too weird to eat in the cafeteria without getting wads of gum stuck into your hair by the assholes on the football team, is worse.
You have no support system, and no way out. Your family won’t even pretend to understand. So, you’re taking to naïve leaps of faith, instead.
The moon is bright enough to illuminate the clouds moving in the sky around it. The air is thick with late spring mugginess and oncoming rain, stifling your skin. The candles arranged in a circle around you don’t help with the heat. Beneath you on the dirt, you’ve used red painter’s pigment to sketch out a pentacle, for lack of a better understanding of how to “cast a circle.”
In your hand, the little cloth doll you’d amateurly sewn together stares back at you with two black button eyes. You’d been very careful when you clipped off a piece of Matt Anderson’s backpack strap to tie around its neck. The wad of ABC gum that he’d shoved into your hair is wrapped in it, and stuffed inside the doll’s body, making it lumpy– but it doesn’t have to look perfect.
It just has to work.
You pick up a cheap plastic cigarette lighter and flick it on. The flame glows yellow in the dark, illuminating the crude red smiley face you’d drawn onto the doll’s head.
Fucking Matt.
The polyester cloth sizzles when you hold the flame to it, barely singeing the edges. All your rage, all your pent up anger and aggression toward him and the impromptu haircut he caused, floods out of you. The smiley face warps. One of the little button eyes pops off. The stuffing inside is going to catch on in a second–
“Oh, my GOD. What are you doing?”
You drop the lighter with a yelp. Over your backyard fence, your neighbor, Jessica, stares at you with wide eyes.
Jessica is your age, your longtime neighbor and one-time friend, when you were very little. You grew apart in middle school, when she discovered cheerleading and you discovered teen angst. She doesn’t talk to you much anymore, unless it’s to give you a hollow, backhanded compliment.
“Jess– I didn’t– what are you doing?” You squint at her in the darkness. Her blonde hair is up in foam rollers, a baby blue bathrobe wrapped around her willowy shoulders.
“Well I saw fire out here when I was getting ready for bed and I wanted to see what was– I wanted to make sure you weren’t, like, in trouble.” She takes in the circle of candles around the red pentacle, the lighter, the mutilated doll in your hand. “Are you, like… a Devil worshipper?”
“What?” You stand up, still clutching the doll in your hand. “No, why would you ask that?”
“Well, I mean… Reverend Tanner was talking about ‘em in church the other day, and I just thought…” She looks you up and down. Her eyes linger on your oversized Black Sabbath t-shirt, your hands covered in red pigment and soot from the spell you were attempting. “It’s okay, I’m not gonna say anything. I promise.”
“Jess, I’m not a Devil wor–”
“It’s… it’s alright. It’ll be our secret.” Jessica gives you a wobbly, forced smile that you know means she’s lying.
Your eye twitches in annoyance. You probably should say something. Plead your case, make her understand that this isn’t Devil worship. Tell her that whatever the hell she listens to the preacher at the local parish say about ‘lunatic Satan worshippers consorting with the Devil’ doesn’t apply to you, and frankly, probably doesn’t exist the way she thinks it does.
Instead, you just sigh. You can’t foresee her being as big of a problem as Matt or any of his cronies. She isn’t vindictive as all that. “Sure, Jess. Our secret.”
“I, um. Sorry, I’m just gonna…” Jessica gestures over her shoulder, and then retreats back toward her house. Her fluffy pink slippers scuff the wood of her patio as she glances back at you cautiously, like she’s afraid you’ll chase after her.
You watch her disappear inside. Then, with a roll of your eyes, you irritatedly hold the lighter’s flame to the Matt doll, and let it catch fire in your hands. You toss it into an empty Folgers coffee canister and let it burn to shit before you blow out the candles and go back inside. The pentacle on the ground will be washed away with the rain by the morning.
Fuck it all.
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As soon as Colin enters his house, Eddie appears on the horizon like a stoic angel bearing a message.
Actually, that’s a fucking lie. He makes the walls cry blood. Always wanted to do that, at least once.
Colin’s a little pipsqueak of a guy in his early thirties, with prematurely thinning hair and skinny legs that make his pants look way too big on him no matter what size he wears. Eddie finds it hard to take him seriously– especially when he’s cowering in a corner brandishing a wooden crucifix like Eddie’s some kind of movie vampire.
“Colin– hey.” Eddie smacks the crucifix out of the guy’s hand, sending it clattering across the floor. Red ooze drips over Colin’s shoulder as he flinches away, whimpering and crying. Eddie rolls his eyes. “Christ, you people are so easy to scare. Okay. Here’s how this is gonna go– you’re gonna quit your job, and I’m gonna make you vomit green pea soup, and then we both go our separate ways and never have to see each other again. Sound good?”
Eddie pauses, tilting his head and squinting at Colin as he starts whispering something. It’s so quiet and wobbly with tears that he can’t quite make it out, so he has to lean close to Colin’s trembling face.
“–thy kingdom come thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven, give us this day our daily bread–”
Eddie sighs. “That’s not gonna work.”
“–forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us–”
“Colin, I’m losing my patience.”
“–lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil–”
“COLIN!” Eddie’s head explodes into a storm of snarling beasts, screeching demons and eldritch beings whirling around each other in a tempest that could rival the Tasmanian Devil. A monstrous jaw with three rows of razor sharp teeth unhinges in front of Colin’s screaming face, roaring at him, showing him the glowing pit of hellfire deep in Eddie’s chest.
Colin continues shrieking even after Eddie’s face returns to normal. Eddie rocks back on his heels, inching away from the puddle of urine Colin just released onto the floor.
“I warned you,” Eddie murmurs. “Needed you to shut up. Now,” Eddie snatches Colin’s phone from the coffee table, pushing it at him. “Call your stupid fucking boss and quit your job so I can get back to my girl.”
Blubbering, Colin juggles the phone in his trembling hands. It takes three tries for him to unlock the damn thing.
After it’s done, Eddie takes the phone from Colin and tosses it over his shoulder. “You just got off so fucking easy– they teach you those fucking manners in Sunday school, too? Stealing tips, making her clean the goddamn bathrooms on her hands and knees. I’d love to kick your teeth in–”
“W-wait–” Colin sniffles, sitting up in his corner. “That’s your girl? The witch?”
Eddie leans back, his jaw clicking into place as he readjusts it– unhinging it like that always misaligns it. He scrutinizes Colin’s expression; the blubbering, frightened little cretin is gone, replaced by a wild eyed and angry zealot.
“Oh, my god. Oh my GOD, so it’s true?” Colin laughs hysterically. “You know they say she burned down her neighbors house because they saw her worshiping the Devil?”
Eddie blinks. “What fucking year is this? 1692?”
Colin doesn’t answer, just continues, “And she never got caught. They couldn’t prove it was her. But now, I bet…”
Colin trails off. There’s something dark and menacing in Eddie’s eyes that wasn’t there before– not even when he lost his temper. Lava pools whirling and stormy, boiling and angry like the buildup before an eruption.
Fear shoots directly into Colin’s mind so hard that he gives a startled jump. After years of skillful practice, Eddie has figured out how to play with people’s emotions in quite the literal sense. Sometimes, he does it harder than necessary.
“I– I mean–” Colin backtracks, “I’m not gonna say anything. I promise. I– I fucking swear on my life–”
“I don’t care about your life,” Eddie says, his voice as flat as he can make it. “I care about hers.”
“Please– please don’t kill me!”
“No, I’m not gonna kill you.” Eddie looks momentarily as though he’s considering launching himself forward and throttling the cowering man, but he sets aside his sudden temperament. “I promised her that I wouldn’t. Which… complicates things.”
Colin squirms. “It… it does?”
“Mm.” Eddie nods, his hands pressed together under his nose as though in prayer. “Because you’re obviously not gonna keep your trap shut, so I have to do it for you.”
Eddie stands as Colin retches. His body contorts on the floor, wailing and gurgling until a projectile stream of blood bursts forth and splatters across the living room hearth. In the midst of the puddle of blood, a writhing tongue curls and twitches, severed on one end like it was cut with a sharp blade.
Colin collapses in a pool of his own fluids. He’ll live. Unfortunately.
Eddie dusts his hands off on his pants and whistles. Out of the shadows, the smoky impression of a dog appears, its glowing red eyes piercing through the darkness and mirroring Eddie’s.
“Dante,” Eddie mutters to the shadow of the rottweiler, standing at attention and waiting for instructions. The dog gives a short whuff of acknowledgement. Eddie snaps his fingers, points at Colin’s disembodied tongue. “Dinner.”
Dante barks and falls upon the tongue enthusiastically. It’s been a while since Eddie’s hellhounds had any fresh meat, only being fed by the souls of the condemned in the Otherworld.
Eddie turns around in a circle, staring around at Colin’s less than stellar apartment setup. He can’t really judge, he was never much of a housekeeper either, but this guy is on a whole other level.
It takes a minute, but he finds what he was looking for beneath Colin’s mattress– hilariously predictable– in a tin pencil box. There’s about $300 in cash, singles and fives and a few twenties in the mix. A couple receipts from a Coinstar machine, as well.
Eddie snatches up the wad of money and shoves it into his back pocket.
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You’ve managed to have one or two lucid dreams in your life. In the past they’ve been something mundane– walking through a city or having a talk with an elderly gentleman on a park bench.
This one is different. You open your eyes to something entirely unexpected.
Your dream is bright and colorful, despite it being perpetually twilight. As you gain lucidity, you pick up on different things– damp grass on your bare back, skin on skin, a gentle caress up a naked thigh. You turn your head, and you find Eddie there next to you, stirring as if rousing from a dream of his own.
You– or, your subconscious– has already taken the liberty of stripping him of his clothes, and you lay in the tall grass of a meadow. Your arms are around him, your leg hooked over his waist. He pets your thigh, soft and gentle like he’s doing it mindlessly.
Your hand wraps around his cock and he startles, his eyes flying open as he gasps.
“Oh. This is, um…” Eddie turns his head towards you, snickering as a warm flush spreads across his cheeks. Ringed hands– because of course, your mind would keep the rings in there– come up to cover his face.
You giggle. “Hello, handsome.”
He grumbles something, but he doesn’t manage to say anything of real importance before he moans. You squeeze his cock and roll your wrist, stroking him torturously slow. He throbs in your grip, needy and jumping when you skim your fingers over the vein that runs along his shaft.
“Well, you, um–” Eddie huffs and cracks a smile, dragging his hands down his face as he does to clear away the grogginess that comes from stepping into the astral plane. “You sure know how to make a demon feel special.”
“Not what you had in mind?” you ask, and your voice has a sultry dip to it that makes the demon squirm.
“Mm, I figured–” Eddie’s breath catches in his throat when you lean over and spit onto his cock. The sound that kicks up from it is salacious, a lewd squelch that completely contradicts your pastoral surroundings. You watch him, as his mouth hangs open in shock for a moment. His head drops back against the ground, baring the jumping muscles of his long neck for your consideration. “Fuck– figured you dream about unicorns and lollipops or some shit.”
You hum, looking pointedly down at where your hand strokes him between his legs. “Well, you’re half right. S’what you get for hijacking my dream, you little shit,” you mutter, but it doesn’t come out as caustically as you want it to, because you litter his chest with kisses.
“I just wanted to talk.” He tilts his head, giving you a pointed look. “You seem to have other plans.”
“Well, it’s my dream, and you caught me in a mood, so.” You shrug, rolling your thumb over the head of his cock. You’re gazing down at it like it’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen, with heavy-lidded eyes and your bottom lip caught between your teeth.
Eddie groans and bucks his hips up into your fist. His hand comes up to grab your shoulder, a warm touch that sends a shudder through you. “Remind me to do that more often?”
You shake your head slowly. “Nuh-uh, this is a one time thing. You said you wanted to talk, so talk.”
You hadn’t realized just how much his presence would affect you, even just in your dreams. Everything about him screams for you to unhinge yourself, against your better judgment; his eyes, his scent, even his voice beckons you. Something not quite human or tangible pulls at your senses and clutches at your chest, and you’re not sure if it’s hunger or lust or something else entirely, some other primitive urge that you’re feeling in force.
Eddie sucks in a long breath through his teeth, his eyes falling to your hand as it works over him. His own tremble, holding back from touching you how he wants.
“There’s, um. You asked me to– uh–” You start trailing your tongue along his chest in a way that makes him lose his train of thought, your lips dragging over his skin, heavenly soft. “Uhhh– not kill that guy for you. So I didn’t.”
“Good.”
“I cut out his tongue, though.”
“Eddie.”
“Sorry.” He isn’t, really. You can feel it, and you can see it in the ghost of a smile on his face. “He was gonna say some shit about you worshipping the Devil. Called you a witch.”
“Everyone already does. And they’re right, aren’t they?” You sigh, and your breath whispers across his overheated skin. “I’m worshipping a devil right now.”
You’re bolder in your sleep. You guess because, to your subconscious mind, there isn’t as much to be afraid of in dreams. Especially in dreams that you can control. All your hang-ups are, well… hung up. And you can let yourself be as promiscuous as you want, at least until you wake up.
You bite at a spot on his neck that makes him lose his composure. Eddie chews his lip and groans, his eyes nearly rolling back into his skull. He grabs your hip and flips you, until your back hits the grass and his hips rest between your legs.
Your heart pounds in your chest as you gaze up at him. Eddie’s beautiful, so impossibly stunning that it nearly frightens you, almost as much as this aching want burning inside of you does. His dark hair hanging around his face, his flushed skin and glowing amber eyes. He’s the picture of immortal beauty and power, and he’s yours.
His lips are so close to yours, his mouth open so that his breath gets caught in your lungs. His nose bumping your own, almost like he means to kiss you.
Eddie rocks his hips, and you feel his erection grind against your cunt. Splitting the seam of your pussy, parting around him as he slides the length of it against you, getting it wet with your arousal. He isn’t… he isn’t fucking you, per se. But it would take just the slightest hitch of his hips, just a little press forward to change that.
You whimper, clutching at his shoulders, your nails digging into his back. “Eddie…”
“So you want to play games, huh?” he murmurs, his voice low and bassy in his chest.
You roll your hips up into his. You can’t help it– the slick, soft glide of his cock through your folds, the head catching against your clit feels too good. His lips on your skin, his breath in your ear. It’s been way too fucking long for you, since someone touched you like this. Your head drops back on your shoulders, your back arching as you moan–
You wake up.
You fucking. Wake. Up.
You lay, disoriented, on your bed. Your hand rests on your sweaty forehead as your pussy throbs, hot and angry between your legs. Seething with rage and neglect, begging for the job to be finished.
It was so real. It felt so real, and so good, and you had to go and ruin it.
His scent remains. His smoke fills your lungs, eating up all your oxygen and making your head spin. You struggle to find your balance somehow, trying to quell the ache between your legs, trying to snap back to a reality where you weren’t just about to fuck your dream demon.
“Did you burn down someone’s house?”
You yelp, bolting to sit up in bed. His scent wasn’t just a leftover memory from your dream. You search through the darkness until your eyes find him sitting in the antique chair in the corner of your room, facing the bed, lit only by streaks of light filtering through the blinds from the streetlamp outside. He reclines, immobile, seemingly relaxed as his eyes glow warm and nearly gold in the low light.
You simply cannot handle this right now. Not while you’re coming down from a very near orgasm you just had because of him.
“What?”
“The guy, Colin–” Eddie continues, as if he’s completely unaware of the absolute torture you’re going through. “He said you burned down someone’s house. Your neighbor’s?”
You wonder for a moment if you could hate him for this, but you already know the answer. You could never hate him. Not really.
“C’mon, you can tell me,” he coos, and then winks. “Tell me and I’ll give you a present.”
You squint at him. He can’t possibly mean what you think he means. You get a mental image of him between your legs, his eyes glowing as he peers up at you, his mouth closed over your cunt.
He smirks like he knows exactly what you’re thinking. The fucker.
“Yeah,” you admit, drawing your knees up to your chest. “Yeah, uh. My fucking neighbor– she started a rumor that I was a Satanist in high school. Got everyone in on it. So, I threw a Molotov through her kitchen window.”
Eddie nods slowly. “Amazing de-escalation tactic.”
“It’s not like I genuinely tried to burn down the place,” you huff. “How was I supposed to know they’d just had the floor waxed?”
Eddie laughs, rocking forward in his seat. His eyes sparkle and his smile is sharp when he pulls a wad of money out of his pocket, holding it up between two fingers. “Your tip money. Your wish, my command.”
You’re taken aback, gazing at the paper that seems so bright in the darkness. “Well, that was relatively painless.”
“Was it?” It’s barely a whisper, but something you were meant to hear. Holding his jaw in his hand, fingers splayed across his cheek, he watches you with growing intensity. “Come and take it, then.”
The knowing smile on his lips issues a challenge, one that you would walk away from in any other circumstance. He knows very well what he’s doing. He can read your thoughts, that much is obvious. And since it seems they’re always in the gutter now, he knows how you’re squirming beneath your skin at the sight of him.
You wonder if you were really the one who ended the dream.
Refusing to breathe– you’re afraid that if you do, the sound of it would give you away– you crawl out of your bed and stand on shaky legs. One look at him tells you he’s gloating, watching the way that you struggle.
Ohhhh you hate him. You hate him, you hate him.
You cross the room toward him, moving slower than necessary in order to steel yourself to the shortening distance between you. You stop short of his legs, extended out and crossed at the ankles.
Eddie doesn’t move, his elevated hand still holding the wad of money. “C’mon then, tough girl.”
You stare at him, trying not to give yourself away, trying for all the world not to scream or throw yourself on him. You hesitantly step forward and snatch the money out of his hand before taking a long step back.
“Thank you, Eddie,” you say mildly, trying to keep your voice steady. Even his name sends a rush of warmth through you. The word burns on your wrist. Your body shakes against your will.
Shit. Fuck. God damn it.
He chuckles, standing from the chair, looming over you. “Anything else I can help you with?”
You squint up at him, your voice shaking as much as your hands, now. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Right. It was a one time thing, wasn’t it?”
The expression on his face is somewhere between affection and condescension as he suppresses a grin. His hand comes up and he pinches your chin between his thumb and forefinger, urging you to look up into his eyes.
A note of fondness oozes into his tone. “Don’t play games with me, sweetheart. You won’t win.”
Eddie’s touch sends a shock wave through your body, a shiver so strong that your eyes flutter shut. His voice is so soft, so lovingly gentle that it nearly makes you break down, knees weakening, head spinning.
He leans forward, pressing his lips to the shell of your ear. “I’ll be here, whenever you change your mind.”
There’s an edge to his voice, a tone that hints at some sort of plea in there. You don’t know what it could be for– sex? Your trust?
You trust him to protect you. You approach him the same way you might approach a spirit in your house– unfamiliar, sure, but not immediately a threat as far as you know. Here, let me offer you half of my muffin as long as you don’t set my house on fire, okay? Maybe don’t kill that guy. Or maybe do. Depends on my mood.
You purse your lips, thankful that he doesn’t look at you when you say, “I know.”
You sound a lot more sure than you feel. You desperately want to grab him and kiss him, throw him on the bed and finish what you started in that dream.
Except, you’re afraid. A dream is one thing; sex in the waking world is another. You’re tiptoeing around some strange patron demon-human relationship that you don’t know how to navigate. It’s in the contract that you have to fuck him, eventually. But you and relationships don’t have a good history, and you’re a little frightened that if you make that leap on your own, it’s only going to end badly.
You think of Andy. You think of your abusive ex who still just hangs around, waiting to intimidate you. You think of the reason why you went out to make a deal with Eddie, and you think of the dog tag that you buried as an offering because Andy had taken the last thing you truly loved from you.
You know that Eddie isn’t just some normal guy you’re dealing with. Your attraction to him goes against everything that you understand, but it makes sense, doesn’t it? Because you try. You try and try, and you’re a good girl until you’re pushed too far, and then you do something stupid like make a deal with a demon because you’re sick of having to just be strong on your own. And suddenly you want to fuck that demon’s brains out so bad that it’s keeping you up at night.
But… you don’t know him. Not really. And as bad as you want him, with your body screaming for him, it’s still enough to make you hesitate.
There’s a subtle movement of Eddie’s head, like maybe he can sense your indecision. Maybe he’ll end that torture for you. He’ll read the brimming anxiety in your thoughts and give you what you’re too afraid to ask for. Sex. Sex with Eddie. Sex with your demon… whatever he is.
Sex with his infernal majesty of freaks and misfits.
But he doesn’t. Without another word, Eddie turns, and he disappears into your bedroom mirror. Leaving you to flop down onto your bed, punch your pillow, and scream.
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#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#tdik!fic#stranger things#stranger things fanfic#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#demon!eddie#demon!eddie munson#roses*
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