#spider soulmates graphics

[sandmanfemslashfans]

The Sandman Femslash Moodboards

Chantal/Zelda 🖤

[bloodibambiidoll]

Spider Lily

(Steve Harrington x Goth!Fem!Reader)

Summary: You can’t stand Steve Harrington, you didn’t like him in highschool during his “King Steve” days and you don’t like him now. But even though you deny it, even to yourself, there’s always been something about him that made your heart beat speed up. When you’re stuck closing with him one night at Family Video… things finally boil over. Wk:4.3k

Warnings: Sliggght King Steve behavior, he’s not as much of an asshole but he is a bit of a player, enemies to (kinda?) lovers, unprotected sex, spanking, a lil bit of choking (ofc, it’s me), hair pulling, dirty talk (a lil bit of taunting), Soulmate AU, the end is kinda angsty but there will be a part 2. 18+MINDI!!

A/N: It’s been a minute since I had the drive to sit down a finish something so quickly, but I felt very inspired by this idea and hopefully it’s gonna help my writers block. I have 2 other bigger stories l’m working on but this came to me and I had to get it out. Shout out to my bbs @reidsbtch @babygorewhore & @bimbobaggins69 for hyping me up on this one. Divider used is by @firefly-graphics.🖤

You roll your eyes as you watch Steve push the cart filled with video tapes down one of the isles of Family Video. Today was one of the unfortunate days that Robin was off and you were stuck closing alone with him. Robin often served as a buffer between the two of you, but when left alone you butted heads constantly. Bickering over who had to do inventory, who was going to count the till, whose turn it was to answer the phone when it rings. It was never ending scoffs and glares, but you always put on a show for the customers, acting civil whenever the store wasn’t empty.

You didn’t hate Steve, but you just couldn’t stand him. He walked around with this aura of arrogance about him, always flirting with girls that came in, always asking them on dates. They almost always said yes, but on multiple occasions you’ve watched those same girls come back a week later, pissed or crying because he hadn’t called. Robin insisted that he “changed” since highschool. Which you couldn’t deny that in some ways he had, but just because he isn’t as big of an asshole now, doesn’t mean he wasn’t still a player. It seemed like he couldn’t let that part of being “King Steve” go.

Steve didn’t hate you, but the fact that you couldn’t stand him drove him crazy. He gets it, he wasn’t exactly the nicest to you in highschool. He tried to apologize. Multiple times. But you shut him down every time. You were constantly throwing passive aggressive comments his way, rolling your eyes, sometimes you gag when he’s asking girls out right in front of them. So he just started giving you the cold shoulder, glaring and scoffing back, immaturely sticking his tongue out at you. He even pulled your hair a few times. To you it felt like he was proving you right, that he really hadn’t changed. But for him, he kind of felt like a school boy with a crush on a girl that couldn’t stand him.

“I can feel you staring, you know.” Steve had stopped the cart in the middle of the horror aisle, he restocked the tapes as he spoke, not even turning to look at you.

“I’m not staring at you Harrington, keep fucking dreaming.” You scoff, throwing a glare his way before turning your back to him, shoving a tape into the VCR and hitting rewind.

“Yeeeaah suuure, your eyes were practically burning a hole in the side of my head.” He chuckled, turning his head to glance at you. Your back was turned to him, the green Family Video vest you both had to wear obstructing his view from the cropped band tee you were wearing underneath it.

He wasn’t exactly sure when his fascination with you started, but he knows it was much longer than he would probably even admit to himself. He was always drawn to you, in a way. Even if he always had the wrong way of showing it. He felt awful about the things he and his friends said to you growing up, calling you a “witch” and knocking your lunch tray out of your hands. One time he just stood by while Carol ripped the book he had seen you reading all week to streads right in front of you. Throwing the ripped pages in your face. Everybody laughed, but Steve didn’t. Not that time. Not when usually you laughed them off, or gave them shit right back, but he watched the tears well in your eyes and the way your lip trembled. When you ran off with those tears starting to pour down your cheeks, part of him wanted to follow you.

“I’m gonna turn the sign off and lock the door, you wanna count the till? I’ll finish up the go backs.”

He didn’t wait for you to answer, knowing it would be some kind of sassy remark. He unhooked his set of keys from his belt loop, pulling the string on the sign to click it off and locking the door. You look over your shoulder at him, you hate how your eyes linger on the way his shoulders look in that dumb polo and how his hands hold the keys. No matter how much you dislike him you can’t deny that he’s gorgeous. He’s not normally your type, but something about Steve has always been attractive to you. And you hate it. It makes him even more unbearable to you.

You start counting the till and you’re midway through the quarters when you hear a loud crash, causing you to jump and drop them all over the ground. Your head whips to the side, your eyes landing on Steve who is picking up the cart he knocked over in the middle of the aisle, most of the tapes were on the floor and it knocked into one of the shelves, causing some of the ones there to drop to the ground as well.

“Steve, what the fuck! That scared the shit out of me!” You snapped at him as you got down on the ground to pick up the fallen quarters.

“It scared the shit out of you? It scared the shit out of me! It almost fell on my god damn foot!” Steve scoffs as he starts to pick up the tapes. Were you seriously mad at him right now?

He hears the sound of your heavy black boots before he sees you, your shadow casting over him in his crouched position. He looks up at you and almost chokes. Your long black velvet skirt accentuates your curves perfectly, a slit up to your thigh showing off a sliver of skin, your cropped tee that you definitely cut yourself is loose enough that he can see up it slightly, getting a view of slight under boob… you weren’t wearing a bra. The bright fluorescent family video lights shine above you and from this angle it makes you look like an angel dressed in black. Your combat clad booted foot taps on the ground as you cross your arms, glaring down at him.

“What the hell happened? You seriously knocked the cart over?” Your voice was teasing, your lips turned up into a smirk.

“That rug had a folded corner and the wheel got caught, I don’t know why you’re acting like I threw it on the ground or something.” Steve rolled his eyes for what felt like the hundredth time that day, standing up to put the tapes back on the shelf. He rests his hands on his hips, his lips set into a hard line as he glares at you. “What is your problem with me, truly?”

“Harrington, you’re joking right?” You laughed, straight up laughed in his face.

“Umm, no? Why the fuck would I be joking? I seriously have tried to be nice to you but no matter what I do you give me a fucking attitude.”

“Oh excuse me, King Steve!! How dare I respect royalty.” You throw your hands up in mock surrender, your eyes widen but that damn smirk doesn’t falter.

“Oh don’t fucking start with that again! You know that’s not who I am anymore, I’ve told you I’m sorry in every way I can possibly think of! I’m sorry I was a fucking dick! But I’m different now! You just - you bring out this side of me. You’re so fucking frustrating!” He runs his hands through his chestnut locks before dragging them down his face, letting out a deep sigh.

“If you’re soooo different why are there different girls coming in here every week whining because you didn’t call them back? Kind of sounds like a dick fucking move to me.”

“Why do you care? You’re constantly bringing that up. Like yeah Robin gives me shit about it but she’s just fucking with me, you’re actually mad. Are you… jealous?”

“Why the fuck would I be jealous Steve? I don’t even fucking like you as a person let alone am I romantically interested in you!!” You were pissed now, jealous? He has some fucking audacity to even think that, but to say it out loud?

“I don’t know, you seem kinda jealous to me. You’re always giving the girls I ask out dirty looks, with this pout on your lips. Also that gagging thing you do, I really would chalk it up to you actually thinking it’s gross but when Stacy came in demanding answers about why I didn’t call… you still glared, but you had this smirk on your lips, instead of a pout…” He takes a few steps closer, only leaving a foot between you. The air feels tense… but in a way it never has before.

“Oh my god, you are so fucking arrogant, Steve Harrington! You do realize not every single girl wants to fall at your feet, right? Grow up! We aren’t in highschool anymore!” You’re talking with your hands, your boot stomping against the ground as you yell at him.

“If we aren’t in highschool anymore than why can't you let this go!? You know I don’t really think that right? There was one girl I never thought wanted me… until right now.” He bites his lip, his eyes wandering your form. He takes a step closer to you so you’re chest to chest, his face is inches from yours and his hazel eyes are staring daggers into yours. But he notices you don’t back away, or push him off, you just glare right back.

“If you’re talking about me, you couldn’t be further off. I haven’t, won’t, and will never want you. You’re a fucking ass.” Your black manicured finger pokes at his chest and he grabs your smaller hand in his large one, holding it in place on his chest.

“Then why aren’t you moving?” You’ve never heard his voice this low and husky and it sent a shiver down your spine against your will.

“I-“ you try to come up with a reason, you really do, but you don’t know why you aren't moving, you just know you don’t want to. No matter how much your mind tries to protest, your body betrays you.

“You what? You don’t have an answer because you know it’s true… I can feel you shaking, baby.” The hand that isn’t holding yours comes up to cup your face, his thumb running over your lips. Baby? Fuck. You shouldn’t love that as much as you do. But right now you feel like you’d do anything to hear him say it again.

“Fuck it.”

You thread your fingers into his hair, pulling his lips against your own into a harsh kiss. You hate to admit that you’ve thought about kissing him before. But in your mind it was always this aggressive anger fueled thing and even though you pulled him into the kiss intending to do just that, the minute your lips touched it became tender. His lips were so soft, and he somehow tasted so sweet, every single nerve in your body felt like it was lit up. You suddenly understood all those cheesy romance movies that talked about “fireworks” when the characters finally kiss. It was the kind of kiss they describe when they teach you about soulmate bounds in school. But Steve couldn’t be your soulmate, could he? There’s no way. You push the thought from your mind for now, letting your body melt into his kiss.

His tongue swipes over your bottom lip and the kiss quickly becomes heated, his hands coming down to grab your hips harshly and yours pulling at his hair. You both moan into the kiss, your bodies pressed closely together, your thighs clenched and his cock starts to harden in his already tight jeans. Your body feels like it’s on fire everywhere he’s touching, those fireworks continuing to go off under your skin. His leg slides between your thighs and you subconsciously grind down on it. Your body searching for any sort of friction.

“Fuck. Stock room. Now.” Steve pulls back from the kiss, his eyes are filled with lust and his breathing is heavy. He uses his grip on your hips to spin you around, pulling your back against his chest and placing a kiss on your neck. “You want that pretty girl? Want me to fuck you?”

You don’t respond with words, you just pull away from him and start walking towards the back, not even sparing him a glance.

As soon as the stockroom door is shut, Steve is on you, harshly grabbing your hips to pull you against him, his mouth feverishly attacking yours. This kiss is different from the first, it’s desperate, hungry. Your arms loop around his shoulders, your hands traveling to the hairs at the nape of his neck and pulling. He moans into the kiss, his tongue exploring every inch of your mouth, almost like he’s trying to memorize it.

“Fuck, Steve. I need you.”

You break the kiss, looking up at him with lust filled eyes. He turns you, pushing your back up against one of the shorter shelves. He pushes your vest off, one of his hands traveling up your cropped shirt, finding you braless just like he thought he would. He gropes your tit, tweaking your sensitive nipple before moving onto the other one. His lips attack your neck and you’re sure there will be a mark or two you'd have to explain to Robin when you saw her. But right now you didn’t care. You need him everywhere.

“Yeah? You need me now? I thought you couldn’t stand me?”

Steve looked at you with a devilish smirk, his unoccupied hand finding the slit in your skirt, grazing over your upper thigh before traveling behind you to grab a handful of your ass. He ruts against you and you can feel his hard cock through his jeans. You palm him, causing him to groan into your throat, his breath sending tingles down your spine.

“I still can’t stand you Harrington, but right now, I need you to fuck me like you hate me.” You grab him through his jeans, moving your hand up and down his shaft to the best of your ability with the burrier in the way.

“Shit. Fuck. Take this the fuck off then.”

His fingers hook in the waistband of your skirt, the velvet feels soft on his skin and for a fleeting moment he imagines how it might feel against his cheek while he laid in your lap, your fingers in his hair in a more gentle way. He pushes the thought from his mind, giving you a questioning glance, you nod and he immediately pushes your skirt down your hips. It pools around your boots on the floor. He kneels down to pull it from your feet entirely, tossing it to the side.

He takes a moment to admire you. Your ass pressed up against the shelf, your shirt is askew, hanging off your shoulder where you cut the collar to make it more low cut, the bright red lacy thong you’re wearing sits perfectly on your curves, and those god damn platform boots that drive him crazy. Your hairs a bit disheveled and your black painted lips are kiss swollen, some of your shiny black lipgloss smeared around your mouth. You’re so frustratingly beautiful, he just wants to eat you alive. You lean down to take your boots off but Steve stops you, grabbing your wrist to pull you back into a standing position.

“Keep them on” he practically growls at you, sending heat rushing through your whole body. Who would’ve thought King Steve would want to fuck a girl in giant goth boots? His large hands grab you roughly flipping you over so your hips are pressed up against the waist high shelf. He pushes your back down so you're bent over it. Leaving a harsh smack on your ass. “Look at this pretty little ass, bet your pussy is just as pretty, huh?”

His fingers run up your clothed slit, looping in the strings of your panties before pushing them down to your ankles. You hear him taking his shirt off and you peer over your shoulder to catch a glimpse of his bare chest. You hadn’t seen him shirtless since highschool and he had definitely matured. His chest now covered in a patch of dark hair, his shoulders broader, his stomach is a little less toned since he doesn’t play sports anymore but it’s honestly sexier that way to you. A moan leaves your lips when his fingers return to your core, gathering up the wetness between your lips, he brings his slick fingers to your clit, circling it.

“Steeeveee, stop fucking teasing me and do som-“ you’re cut off by a harsh smack on your ass, causing you to jolt forward and moan.

“Quit with the fucking attitude or I’m not giving you shit, I’ll walk out of here right now.” Two more smacks land on your opposite ass cheek before two large fingers are being shoved knuckle deep into your pussy. You’re so wet they slide right in. He immediately finds your sweet spot, rubbing the pads of his fingers against it before thrusting his fingers in and out of you roughly. “You’re awfully wet for someone who can’t stand me baby, maybe you don’t like me, but your pussy does.”

“Fuck - fuck Steve, your fi - fingers are so fucking good.” Your eyes roll back, your hips pushing against his hand on their own accord. No one had ever gotten you so close to the edge this fast, but Steve was making you crumble in mere minutes, on just his thick fingers alone. His thumb comes down to rub quick circles on your clit and you think that’s it, you feel yourself about to fall over the edge when suddenly he pulls his fingers out, leaving you feeling empty. “What the fuck! I was about to cum you asshole!!”

“I thought you wanted me to fuck you like I hate you? Only girls I like get to cum, unless they beg for it.” You hear his belt buckle clinking behind you, and god do you wish you could see his cock right now. It felt so big through his jeans and you know it has to be beautiful. Even though you can’t see it you feel him run his tip through your dripping folds. “I’m gonna fuck you so good, you’ll be begging before you know it. I know you’re gonna say some shit like ‘keep dreaming, Harrington’ but I don’t wanna hear it. I just wanna hear you beg for me.”

You’re prepared to give him a snide come back but it’s erased from your mind when you feel the head of his cock start to slide inside you. He pushes it in and out a few times and for a second you think he’s gonna go slow, you’re about to complain but you’re cut off by the moan that leaves your lips when he shoves his cock halfway inside you in one thrust. He’s big, but the stretch feels so fucking good and you’re so wet that he’s sliding so perfectly inside you. You want to feel all of him, you push your hips back so his cock slides fully inside you. He lets you bounce back against him a few times before he’s grabbing your hips, fucking into you at a brutal pace.

“Oh shit, Steve!” You moan loudly, your hands gripping onto the shelf for purchase as he thrusts into you over and over again. You’re sure your hips will be bruised, from not only the shelf digging into them but also the hard grasp he has on you. The thought of being marked up by him stirs something inside you that you try not to dwell on.

“This pussy feels so fucking good, you’re gripping me so good baby, so fucking tight. Like it was made for me.”

His hand comes up to grab onto your hair, pulling your head until your back is flushed against his chest. The new angle has him hitting deeper than before, his cock hitting your sweet spot over and over again. The hand not in your hair grabs onto your tits harshly, pulling and pinching your nipples as he continues his brutal pace. You’re a moaning mess, drool starting to drip down your chin, and you’re already so close to cumming it’s almost embarrassing.

“Fuuuuck oh my - oh my fucking godddd.” Your eyes roll back as Steve lets go of the grip on your hair, quickly grabbing you by the throat before you can fall forward. His other hand reaches down to your clit, rubbing fast circles on it.

“You’re close already, huh? I can feel it, I can feel your pussy squeezing my cock. You wanna cum? Beg. Beg me to cum, or I’ll stop fucking you.” He growls in your ear, never letting up on his thrusts.

“No - I - I’m - fuck! Just let me cum, don’t be a fucking dick Steve!!” His pace slows, he shoves his cock deep inside you and then stops moving entirely. One hand is still around your throat and the other is pressing down on your clit but no longer moving.

“I said beg. I’ll pull out and jerk off right here in front of you. Now be a good girl and beg me to cum.”

“God fucking damn it. Steve! Fucking please? Please let me cum? Keep fucking me please? Just wanna cum on your big cock! I can’t take it anymore! Please make me cum!” You didn’t want it to come out that whiny, but once you started begging it was like you couldn’t stop. You need him to keep fucking you.

“Good fucking girl, that wasn’t so hard was it?” He releases his grip on your throat pushing on your back so your top half is flat against the shelf again. He grips your hips harshly as he resumes fucking into you harder and faster than before. “This is all you needed to ditch that attitude, huh? Needed to be fucked so good? Put in your place?”

“Yes - yeah - fuuuckkkk feels so fucking good I -“

His fingers find your clit again and that’s it for you. Your orgasm crashes over you like a flood. It racks through your entire body, making you see stars. The feeling of your walls tightening around his cock and the sounds you’re making as your high washes over you sends Steve over the edge too. He cums hard, his cock nestled deep inside you as he fills you.

“Shit. Fuck.” Steve pants, pulling out of you and stepping back a few inches so he can watch his cum drip from your pussy. “Wish I could keep you like this, all fucked out and dripping with my cum. Too cock drunk to give me an attitude.”

You feel his fingers caress your overly sensitive lips, gathering the cum that dripped out, he shoves his fingers inside you before leaning down to pull your panties back up your legs.

“Now you have to go home stuffed full of me, when you take your panties off you won’t be able to help but think of me.” You can hear the smirk in his voice and it makes you roll your eyes. You turn around to face him, giving him a death glare. “Look at me like that all you want, I’m not going to forget you were begging me to cum less than five minutes ago.”

“Oh my god, you’re so annoying.” You roll your eyes again, but this time when you say it you laugh, and there’s a glimmer in your eyes that’s still teasing, but lighter. It gives Steve hope.

“Whaaateeever you say, baby.”

He smirks at you, sending you a wink before turning around to find his discarded shirt. You take a moment to admire his back. Broad and covered in moles that you want to connect with your fingers, maybe even your lips. His jeans fit so perfectly on his ass, and his shoulders… wait. You pause, your mouth dropping open as you catch sight of his shoulder. You almost think your mind is playing tricks on you, you wish it was. But there clear as day on his left upper shoulder are two simple red spider lilies. A mark that matches the one on your ribs exactly. Steve Harrington, King Steve, the bane of your existence… was your soulmate.

This could not be happening. No way. Absolutely not. You grab your skirt, pulling it on in a frenzy. Steve turns to look at you right as you are pulling up the zipper with a panicked look on your face.

“Hey, it’s okay, are you okay? I’m sorry for teasing you I-“

“I gotta go. I - uh - I just gotta go. I’m sorry.”

You can’t even think straight, you can’t be near him right now. You need to think and the smell of him and the way his hands feel on your forearms is clouding your thoughts and you just need to go. You spare him a sad glance before pulling your arms from his grasp. You grab your bag from under the counter and run out of the building towards your car. You slam the door closed once you’re inside, your breathing is labored and your mind feels like someone put it in a blender. You shove the keys in the ignition, regretting your decision to peak back at the building before pulling out. Steve was standing in the front window, a confused look on his face as he watched you pull away. He was beautiful, and frustrating, and he was your goddamn soulmate. Fuck.

[weeeeeekly]

quarter life crisis – ot5 tomorrow x together x afab!reader

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blurb !!! Reincarnation can bring soulmates together despite their time apart. Being a huge fan of TOMORROW X TOGETHER helped you get through the struggles of entering early adulthood. You would thank them personally if you ever could but when you possibly get the chance it’s more than what you could ever hope for.

info !!! txt are still idols, reincarnation au, soulmates au, polyamory, throuple²… they’ll all eventually date each other, mc has mental health struggles, universe assigned lactose intolerance, team no kids, glasses wearer, lives in the middle of fuck nowhere but still a city (just go with it), pet names used are “our love” and princess, & not edited.

wc: 2.6k

WARNINGS !!! NSFW, MDNI, 18+, extremely self-indulgent, soft yandere!txt, mentions of mental health & self-harm (nothing graphic) for entire series

author’s note !!! This is fiction!!! this is made up!!! I do not condone breaking in, stalking, and other ulterior motives to get close to someone you are romantically interested in.

why are there not more ot5!txt x fem/afab or gender-neutral reader… mandatory note that i do not think txt act like this in real life. I also cannot come up with a blurb for the life of me, so please peep the info tags.

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CHAPTER SEVEN

(extra warning for fear of open water)

The rest of your week consisted of getting to know each of the members on an individual level.

The next day after your heart-to-heart with Soobin, Yeonjun, Beomgyu, Taehyun, and Kai, you had to head back to work the next day.

“Don’t go.” Kai complains, stretching the “o” out and hugging you tighter to his body.

“I have to. I don’t want to be unemployed.”

Yeonjun takes a sip of water from the doorframe, “Kai, let our love go. I’ll walk you to your car.”

After bargaining with Kai that you’ll hangout with just him tomorrow – and a quick use of the nickname “Hyuka” – you change for work in the bathroom, drink your usual iced matcha latte made by Taehyun, and say your goodbyes with your arm intertwined with Yeonjun’s.

“Thanks for walking me to my car.”

“It’s an excuse to spend alone time with you.”

Both of you get into elevator, Yeonjun tries to push the button, but it’s not working. Yeonjun gives you a forced chuckle as he hits the button again. Nothing. And then the open button for the doors that won’t open.

“You’re joking.” You deadpan as the lights go out in the elevator.

“I’m going to be so late to work.” You shoot a quick text to your boss as Yeonjun presses the emergency call button.

“Should I text the guys that we’re stuck?”

Just as you finish your sentence you hear Beomgyu call out, “I’LL SAVE YOU, OUR LOVE!”

The next 20 minutes is spent with Yeonjun telling you a story from their trainee days as Beomgyu and Kai take turns trying to open the elevator doors like they’re Spider-Man. Once you two are saved by the fire department, Yeonjun still walks you to your car via the apartment’s staircase. You get into your car but before you can close the door, Yeonjun bends down to kiss you on the cheek.

“Have a good day at work.”

Miraculously, you’re only 5 minutes late to work and your boss didn’t even notice.

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Wednesday, your favorite day of the week, and your promised day with Kai.

You even make sure to finish our work early so you can leave early to surprise him. You need to get groceries since your fridge and snack corner were getting bare. You hope that Kai won’t think it’s boring and a waste of solo time.

“Any time with you is good!”

The look on Kai’s face makes you want to cry – the look of “As-long-as-we’re-together-I’ll-be-happy” on his angel face makes your knees weak.

“How do you feel about going shopping with me?”

“Let’s go.”

You drive yourself and Kai to the family-owned supermarket that was the greatest thing within the city for the next couple of miles. The next best thing being the airport and the downtown city. You could honestly walk to the store, but you’re not too sure how much you both might buy.

The parking lot isn’t empty, but it’s also not full, so a good amount of people were also grocery shopping. You grab a cart as you open your phone’s notes for your list.

“Grab whatever you need.”

Kai nods as he heads down the aisle as you stop to look for your favorite brand of chips.

Kai can’t believe that he’s doing a mundane task with you again. It takes him back to when you two used to sail to the neighboring island to watch the nurse sharks migrate.

When he looks over to observe you, it’s like you never left. Sure, you don’t look the exact same as you once did, but you’ve kept the same mannerisms and facial expressions. Your manner of speech is almost identical except updated for the current times. Not even the language barrier can bother him or his other soulmates – as long as you stay together with them.

If he puts aside the fact that he’s a member of TXT, and pretends he’s just Huening Kai, it’s like you two are buying groceries as newlyweds for your shared home. The thought of him standing at the altar with his soulmates and looking down the aisle to see you walking towards them.

He needs to sit down.

“Are you okay?” You ask as you look down on him sitting in the middle of the chip aisle.

“Uh, looking for Yeonjun.” He comes up with the excuse as he reaches for a bag of hot fries.

“Good idea. We should surprise them with their favorite snacks.”

The smile on your face as you reach for the bag makes him need to sit down again.

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You power through your tasks at work so you can get home early again to hangout with Beomgyu. As you’re packing up your bag to leave your boss stops you.

“Someone’s in a hurry to leave.”

“Yeah, I’ve got plans with a friend.”

“Oh, a friend.” She winks at you continue packing. “Hopefully this friend can take your mind off ETC.”

“TXT.”

“Right, TXT. See you tomorrow!”

When you arrive at the parking garage, Beomgyu is waiting for you next to your parking spot. When you pull into the spot, you roll down the window to talk to him.

“Um, hey?”

“I want to walk you back.”

“That’s kind of you.”

As you two walk back, hands swinging in almost perfect synchronicity that your hands could touch, Beomgyu holds your hand as he holds the door open for you. Laid out on the table are the snacks purchased yesterday, extra pillows on the couch, and two controllers with the video game’s menu screen ready.

“You played this before?”

“No, I usually play farming games where I can do whatever I want and decorate my character and house.”

“The game is just fighting. Easy to learn.”

The two of you played the video game with Beomgyu winning 4 rounds in a row. You didn’t mind. You got to chill out, eat some snacks, and spend more time with him.

˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊

After heading back to your apartment to sleep, you wake up to Taehyun calling you.

You groggily accept the call, “Hello?”

“Hey, can you get ready in 15 minutes to work out?”

You bolt up from bed, “Yes. See you soon. Bye!”

Hanging up, you rush to your closet to grab the comfiest clothes, the quickest shower ever, change, fill your favorite reuseable water bottle, and greet Taehyun in under 15.

“12… minutes.” You huff out as you try to catch your breath.

“Woah, we haven’t even started working out yet.”

Yeah, because not all of us can be athletically blessed and still look like the reincarnation of a Greek god while doing so.

You force a smile to Taehyun as you stand up. “Let’s just get this workout over with. Please go easy on me.”

“It’ll be an easy workout!”

Easy workout your ass. He made you want to die during stretching, tried to torture you with boxing against him, and made you cuss him out while on the stairmaster.

“I hate this stupid fucking machine.” You glare at Taehyun as he works out.

“It’s not that hard.”

You purse your lips to not make a sexual joke. Honestly, it’s been difficult to not make a multitude of jokes, especially with the fan edits you’ve seen. Many “I bet you are”, “You’re what”, and “I can show you what’s hard” were trapped in your mind.

The rest of the workout wasn’t as terrible since you begged Taehyun to use the remaining time on the treadmill so you could watch videos. You snuck your favorite To Do episode before you two went back to your apartments so you could get ready for work.

You hate to admit it but despite the fire you felt in your legs – you did feel better after working out in the morning. Just slightly.

˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊

You immediately crashed after getting back home from work. You were excited to stay up late and catch up on some tv shows, but the second your head hit the pillow after showering and getting into some cozy pjs, you knocked the fuck out.

You did wake up refreshed the following morning though.

A text notification caught your attention as you were scrolling through your emails.

gc with 6 cuties

            soob 숩 hi do you want to bake with me

            hyuka egg tarts ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و

            you i’ll be over in 10

All of these social outings have made you feel like the most popular person on earth. You don’t want to dwell on the thought too much, but this is exactly what you wished for in high school – a group of friends you regularly hung out with. TXT was a friend group you’ve always wished for, but whatever you have with them is more than that. You still can’t wrap your head around how you were reincarnated soulmates, especially since only they held memories of it. It would’ve been a different story if it was vice versa, you wouldn’t have been believed.

Shutting your eyes and breathing out, that doesn’t matter right now. You should be getting ready to bake with Choi Soobin, your friend. Someone that you can confide your thoughts to and feel no judgement. Someone that apologized for not baking cookies for you when he moved in next door.

More than half an hour went by before you knocked on their door. You spent too much time trying to get your hair just right that you gave up before you started crying in frustration. Your outfit was fine, nothing exciting since you couldn’t find the clothes you wanted to wear.

Soobin just smiles at you when he opens the door, dimples on full display. You could write a master’s thesis on how much you love his dimples. Soobin’s whole face in general. When he does the silly one-sided smile to the head tilt with a wink and tongue out.

“Sorry for being late.”

“It’s okay.”

When you walk in, the rest of the guys are out of the apartment. The kitchen counter is full of baking supplies. Soobin ties a pink apron around himself before holding up a matching apron for you.

“Can I?”

You nod as you turn around so he can put the apron on for you. Once he’s done you turn around, “How do I look?”

“Pretty.”

You widen your eyes at him before fixing your glasses, “Thanks.”

“We can bake cookies and egg tarts.”

Soobin baked most of the desserts as you barely served as an assistant. You weren’t complaining as you were too excited to eat the food. You did help measuring the dry ingredients, putting on icing, using the oven, and giving Soobin space in general.

The rest of the guys came home while you two were still baking with Taehyun coming home last when you were letting the desserts cool down. The 6 of you lounge around the living room, eating the desserts when you say the first thought that comes to mind. “I want to be in a pool right now.”

“It’s 10 PM. The pool is closed.”

You sent a smirk to Yeonjun, “So? We can sneak in. We can go after you guys finish eating.”

The next few minutes are spent with everyone quickly scarfing down more desserts before leaving. Kai makes sure to grab some towels. Your little group takes the stairs down to the first floor and take the side door to the apartment complex pool.

Taehyun stops walking, “Wait, we don’t have swim clothes.”

You turn your head over your shoulder, “It’s okay, we don’t need any.”

Taehyun turns to Yeonjun who has his mouth open in shock. Soobin’s ears turn red as Kai stops in his tracks. Beomgyu pushes Kai to keep walking. They don’t want to voice it out loud, but they’re all thinking the same thing.

Are you going to swim naked like they used to in the past.

Once you climb the fence, they hear a splash a few minutes later which causes them to quickly scale the fence.

You’re standing in the shallow end as you wave at them to get in. As they approach the pool ledge, you swim over to them and push yourself up to sit on the ledge. They notice that your clothes are sticking to your figure causing inappropriate thoughts to flood their mind yet again.

You look at Yeonjun as his ears turn red.

“Are you blushing?”

“Am not.”

“Are too!”

You giggle as you tease him and the way your nose scrunches up causes his heart to flip like before. If he squints his eyes – it’s almost like you never left on that damn ship.

Beomgyu goes to pretend to push Yeonjun in, but Yeonjun moves at the last minute and makes him accidentally push you in.

You let out a surprised gasp as you go underwater. When you resurface, your glasses are missing.

“Oh no, my glasses!”

Beomgyu face drops, confusion written on your face as you look around the dimly lit pool.

“I’m so sorry, love. Soobin will help you find them.”

“W-what?” Soobin steps backwards away from the group, shaking his head in protest.

“Just shine your phone flashlight.”

Soobin carefully walks toward the ledge, death gripping his phone. You dive under the water again and resurface with a frown.

In a fraction of a second, Kai rips Soobin’s phone out of his hand as you pull Soobin’s ankle toward you, making him fall in.

Once underwater, you open your eyes to look at Soobin, but even with your shitty vision and the blurriness from the water, you know something is wrong. You reach your hands out to pull Soobin above water.

Even with both of your feet touching the floor, Soobin starts freaking out. He clings to you as you look over to the guys with confusion clearly written on your face.

Soobin keeps muttering something as you try to make sense of what he’s saying.

“It’s my fault.”

“Hey, it’s okay. Soobin, look at me. You’re okay.”

You hold Soobin’s face as he finally makes eye contact with you and regulates his breathing.

“You’re okay. Whatever it is, it’s not your fault.”

“You.”

“Yeah, it’s me. Let’s get you out of the pool.”

Taehyun gets into the pool and helps you walk Soobin out to sit him down in a lounge chair. You sit down next to him as Yeonjun drapes a towel over his shoulders.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You ask as he shakes his head.

“It’s okay. We should head back to our apartment before we get in trouble.”

“HEY!”

All of your heads comically whip in the direction of the stranger’s shout only to see one of the complex’s security guards waving a flashlight from across the pool, on the other side of the fence.

“Oh shit.”

The 6 of you start running to the door and run up the flight of stairs not stopping until Yeonjun locks the door of their apartment behind you.

“Dammit. I left my glasses in the pool.”

masterlist | previous | next

author's note i drove myself to panera to write this chapter out in an effort to be productive. i'm posting this from panera!! yeah, i definitely cannot keep up a consistent schedule for updating. my bad y'all. i should have just waited until i wrote out the entire story before posting.

[moontearpensfic]

7

E | Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort

Tags: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Underage, Harry Potter Raises Tom Riddle, Flash Forwards, Time Travel Fix-It, Professor Harry Potter, Professor Tom Riddle, Kinda Redeemed Voldemort, Manipulative Tom Riddle, Possessive/Obsessive Behavior, Codependency, Soulmates, Harry Potter is a Horcrux, Dumbledore and Harry Have a Mr. Miyagi and Daniel-san Apprenticeship, Cottagecore

Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3

An older boy walks in, and… and Tom is hit with his magic. Magic, to Tom, is dark, earthy, the scales of snakes, silk of a spider's web, dust, the stretch of shadows, blood, dead things. He didn't feel that old man's. Didn't know he was like Tom. But this boy's, this… It's airy. Fluttery and golden, darting about him, taunting him. Challenging him to catch it, to break it, to show it that nothing can stay so perfect and precious.

Love and Death make a bet. Now Harry has seven years to make Tom Riddle experience selfless love.

Well, it won't be the first time he's given the odds a two-fingered salute.

[4: Harry's Secrets]

[kamwashere]

spideypool fic rec list please!!!!

Paradise (spread out with a butter knife) by Sarah_Sandwich [T, Graphic Depictions of Violence, 72K]

He sighs from where he’s prone, arms akimbo, and roof gravel digging into his spine. “I lost my job. My… other job. The one that actually pays the bills.” He doesn’t want to dwell on why he’s telling Deadpool of all people. Surely it has nothing to do with his desperate lack of friends. MJ is in California chasing her dreams, Harry’s undergoing treatment for his mental health and isn’t allowed visitors (not that it matters since they blacklisted Peter after last time), and Gwen… Well. And it’s not like he can talk to Aunt May without her worrying about him starving to death under a bridge or something so… Deadpool it is. Man, when did his life get this pathetic. OR: The one where Peter and Wade are literal soulmates but don't realize it for literal years because they're literal idiots.

✦ kam's notes: My favoritest SMDP fic. It’s a soulmate au and it has one of the best characterizations of Peter and Wade. It burns so slow and so good. My favorite thing about this fic is how unique but somehow familiar this universe is. Peter is bad at being an adult and Wade is larger than life. I love the transition from strangers to friends to best friends to partners to roommates to soulmates/heartmates to lovers. I could not recommend this enough. 

Peter Parker's Home for the Wayward Villain by BeanieBaby [T, 90K]

A really long redemption story.

✦ kam's notes: The mother of all SMDP fics, in my opinion. It’s spideypool + a lot of fun side couples and cameos. Peter is Tony’s adopted son and he has no powers. He adopts a bunch of villains like Loki and Magneto. So fun and one of the first SMDP fics I’ve ever read!

Quackery by CAPSING [M, 3K]

In a world where the first words your soulmate will say to you appear on your left wrist at your tenth birthday, Peter gets the short end of the stick.

✦ kam's notes: It’s not a Spideypool fic rec list if there are no works by CAPSING. It’s a soulmate AU where Peter gets a duck-related soulmate mark. It’s funny and light-hearted, but with Deadpool-typical angst.

you grow up and you lose touch by scarlett_starlett [M, Graphic Depictions of Violence, 52K]

Peter always thought that when he had kids, there would be someone by his side. Instead, he has a mouthy mercenary acting as a chef every night for him and his newly adopted son and a narcissistic billionaire philanthropist paying child support on the sly. But Peter figures it isn’t all bad, especially when Miles loses that dullness in his eyes whenever Wade slips on the banana peels he ‘strategically’ places all over the apartment for Peter as a joke.

✦ kam's notes: Normally don’t like a kidfic but this one is too adorable not add. Peter and Wade co-parenting/co-mentoring Miles! Love the dynamic between Wade and Miles, it’s so silly.

TheRealDeadpool posted by JessJesstheBest [T, 6K]

Carly Shep @Spider-butt Sooo… has anyone else noticed how cozy Spider-Man and the Merc with a Mouth seem to be lately? (14 retweets, 74 likes) Or the Isn't it Bromantic comic run from the perspective of in-universe social media

✦ kam's notes: What it says on the summary. Very cracky and sweet. I like the outsider POV element of this.

BF(F) by HexxBunny [T, 10K]

Five times people thought Wade and Peter were a couple which, seriously, where did they get that from? They are not a couple, stop asking. They are just friends now, and did plenty of friend stuff. Like kissing.

✦ kam's notes: Peter being in denial: the fic. It’s very fluffy. A lot of kissing. The Avengers make an apperance. 

Pizza Parker, Booty Double by vulcanhighblood [G, 1K]

The pizza delivery boy has hips that don't lie, and a booty belonging to Spider-Man. All Wade has to do now is find proof that Peter is the webbed wonder...

✦ kam's notes: The famous “Deadpool recognized Peter outside the suit based on his ass” fic. There are some dubiously-consensual groping but it’s all in very good fun.

that's all it is, man by scarlett_starlett [T, 5K]

"It’s just a leap of faith. That's all it is." (or: Peter B. Parker returns to his New York and actually believes that he won’t mess it up again; not this time, not with him. WARNING: Spoilers for the Spider-Man: Into the Spiderverse movie. Read with caution.

✦ kam's notes: Another scarlett_starlett fic! Possibly the best Peter B. Parker/Wade Wilson fic, in my opinion. I love love love their dynamic in this. The banter is 10/10. Wade gives  some much-needed appreciation for Peter B’s dad bod. 

Parallel Horizons by mokuyoubi [E, 10K]

When Peter B Parker enters the collider again to return to his own dimension, he’s dumped out a week into the future, but still in Miles’ universe. Repeated attempts to return home only speed up the damage done to his body by the glitches, and leave him stranded 2 years in the future. Enter Deadpool, who’s seen a lot of versions of Spider-Man, but never one so in need of a friend. He vows to save Peter’s life, whether he likes it or not. Along with Miles and Gwen, they work to repair the damage, and find out what’s keeping Peter from being able to return home. And maybe Peter finds he has more in common with the strange Merc than he could have anticipated.

✦ kam's notes: Another Peter B./Wade fic. Wade is very helpful and charming, how could Peter not fall for him? The other Spideys also make a cameo. Some Liv/May crumbs in here, too.

liminal spaces by brawlite [Series, M, 18K, Unfinished]

New York City is full of liminal spaces. Somehow, Peter always seems to find Wade in them.

✦ kam's notes: This one is technically a series. There are three works in here and they’re all so good. I love how intimate these fics feel and there are some great Peter retrospectives here. 

an itch you can't scratch by jilliancares [G, 8K]

5 times Wade bumps into Peter Parker + 1 time he realizes Peter Parker is Spider-Man.

✦ kam's notes: Oh my God, this one! Wade keeps meeting Peter and keeps feeling like he’s forgetting something. The moment he realizes is my favorite part of this fic. Definitely recommend!

Another Trip Around the Sun by isaDanCurtisproduction [M, 31K]

Peter likes Wade. A lot. Like-likes him. But this is a problem, see? Because Wade has no idea who is behind the Spiderman mask. And then they go to a New Years Eve Party hosted by Tony Stark, get completely wasted, and suddenly this does not seem to be nearly as much of a problem as Peter originally thought. Because Peter always makes the best decisions while drunk, don't you know? Especially when his decision involves getting into Deadpool's pants.

✦ kam's notes: The miscommunication fic to end all the other miscommunication fics. Frustrating, sexy, and a little angsty! 

Halo by Pancake22 [T, 5K]

Convinced that Spider-Man is hiding in plain sight as an employee at Parker Industries, Deadpool explores the building in hopes of spotting his friend amongst the sea of corporate drones. All to offer him a job opportunity, of course. That was it though. Honest.

✦ kam's notes: SM/DP compliant. Identity reveal. Enough said. 

It Had to Be You by fancastical [T, 20K]

Or, Five Times Deadpool Recognised Spider-Man and One Time He Didn't

✦ kam's notes: A frustrating, bordering on cracky identity reveal fic. Peter is a troll, Wade loves him anyway. The ending is super satisfying, I promise. 

Don't mind just shamelessly plugging my own fics—

my heart is wild (and my bones are steel) [T, 9K]

Out of the corner of his eyes, MJ quietly takes the seat across the younger Peter, swiftly sliding into his place. He visibly relaxes, resting his forehead against hers. They belong together in a quietly intense way. Longing burns hot inside of him, like a branch caught in a forest fire. It’s strange. Even if this version of Peter has lost virtually everything, he still finds a way to be envious of him. He thinks of Wade. For some unfathomable reason he isn’t quite ready to examine yet, he misses the idiot. No Way Home, but in Peter-Three’s perspective.

all the skeletons you hide (show me yours, i’ll show you mine) [M, 16K, WIP]

A wave of affection and longing almost makes him stagger on his feet. Just seeing him in that suit—looking less than impressive, scratching his butt—makes him realize just how much he missed him. “Wade,” Peter cringes at how his voice catches, “Hi.” Wade turns around, turns back, turns again and does a double take. He eyes Peter up and down and to his surprise, turns away snootily. “Sorry cutie, any other day, I would be super into this hipster nerd slash skater boi with an I you’ve got going on—devastating combo, by the way—I’m sadly not in the mood.” Peter, fresh out of his multiversal escapades, gains a new perspective in life. One that includes a certain mouthy mercenary, perhaps? The problem is, the mercenary doesn’t seem to remember him. Like at all. He has a sneaking suspicion it has to do with that spell thing Peter-One was talking about…

‣ Both are a part of the new york isn't new york without you series

[zaebeecee]

To Sever a Loveless Bond

••RadioDust Soulmate AU••

Part 8/?

First chapter | Previous chapter | Next chapter

Read on AO3

Chapter 8 art by @fletchingbrilliant

•••

I’m sorry this took forever, y’all, my autoimmune bullshit has been kicking my ass the last few days. But it’s long (lol)

CW for discussion of racism, homophobia, and medical abuse/trauma. Mild CW for the beginnings of the promised developing smut. It isn’t graphic (yet). Alastor’s POV is wordy and meandering.

My beautiful and perfect husband designed and did art of Angel Dust’s ritual outfit, and it’s right here and you should go give him love.

•••

Angel Dust arrived at Alastor’s room at precisely eight, just as instructed. Despite the fact that Alastor himself was the one who set the time, and the fact that he was aware Angel Dust had noticed his fondness for punctuality, he was still caught off guard when he heard the gentle knock on his door.

It wasn’t normal, how often the spider was able to surprise him by doing nothing more than being himself. Alastor chalked up his own altered state to the conversation with Rosie earlier that afternoon, because if his fellow overlord had only one talent, it would be pushing him off balance with very little trouble. It wasn’t really Angel Dust having some sort of profound effect on him. It was just Rosie, and the cursed mark on his arm.

Alastor knew that he could have just bade the door open on its own with his magic, or sent his shadow to do it, but he found himself crossing the room to welcome in his guest. Angel Dust stood on the other side of the wood, one set of hands clasped in front of his torso and the other set behind his back, looking… was he on edge? Nervous, perhaps? How odd.

It was common knowledge among the hotel’s residents that Angel Dust possessed the best fashion sense among them, but Alastor always found himself struck when he saw the other sinner in something he had never seen him wear before. The sheer aesthetic mastery he achieved with so little effort was frankly offensive. Tonight, it was a dress that was likely intended for galas or other evening events, elegant in its simplicity; it was a white dress—conforming perfectly to every curve on his body—with a square neckline that revealed the entire length of his clavacles and dipped low enough to expose his chest fluff, long sleeves that extended to the middle of his hands, and one slit that went all the way up to his hip. His makeup was understated, and the necklace was a simple teardrop diamond on a short, fine chain. So feminine, and yet, it would be impossible to mistake him for a woman.

Angel Dust simply looked…

“Come right in, my dear,” Alastor said, taking a step back and motioning for Angel Dust to enter, promptly silencing that line of thinking. He shut the door, locked it, and then (for good measure) cast a quick seal to double up on the usual sound proofing he kept on his personal sanctuary, should Charlie or Niffty discover what was happening and get any bright ideas about finding out more.

“Lettin’ me in yourself?” Angel Dust asked with a teasing edge to his voice, smiling at Alastor over his shoulder before he looked around the room.

“I thought you said I let you in last time.”

“You did,” Angel Dust said slowly. “But now you can’t argue with me.”

Alastor couldn’t help his soft laugh at the spider’s sheer cheek. He never passed up an opportunity to give a fellow sass, did he? “And you have no one but yourself to blame for whatever might befall you for stepping into the Radio Demon’s domain with the knowledge that he let you in himself.”

Angel Dust opened his mouth, then closed it. “…yeah. That’s fair.”

Alastor led him to the edge of the wooden flooring that had once led to nothing but a wall, but now opened into the thick and humid expanse of Louisiana bayou that he liked to bring with him wherever he went. There were two tables present: one smaller with two chairs and two place settings, and a larger one that bore the dishes he had toiled away preparing that afternoon.

“Oh! Right.” Angel Dust pulled a bottle of wine from behind his back and offered it to Alastor, his lips quirking. “Hope this is okay.”

“It’s lovely,” Alastor assured him, pulling out one of the chairs for him to sit. Angel Dust did so, looking a little proud of himself, and Alastor watched his face for a brief moment before turning away to open the wine and let it breathe. “So! I do hope you took my warning to heart, dear fellow. I’m fairly certain that many of these dishes are like nothing you’ve ever had before.”

“It smells good,” Angel Dust said, and Alastor felt those magenta eyes following him as he went to the other table. “You gonna tell me what you made?”

“After you’ve tried it.”

The meal went much better than Alastor had anticipated (even better still than he had planned). Many people had such limited palates, so often by their own choice, but Angel Dust showed a real eagerness to try things he’d never had before: Oysters Bienville with shrimp remoulade, crawfish and langoustine bisque, pompano en papillote with stuffed Mirliton, veal grillades and grits, dirty rice, and chocolate and lemon Doberge cake with café brûlot. He didn’t balk at a single offering, no matter how unfamiliar he was with any particular dish—he even giggled and applauded when Alastor lit the café brûlot on fire—and he gave a genuine compliment for each one that came only after careful consideration of a few bites. Alastor was very nearly charmed by the deep and thoughtful nature Angel Dust was revealing.

I’m afraid I truly did misjudge you, sha.

It was only over dessert and their coffee that conversation shifted from the food—what each dish was, what was in it, how it was made, when Alastor had learned to make it—when Angel Dust leaned two elbows on the table to tuck his hands under his chin and tilt his head at Alastor in curiosity.

“Hm?” Alastor picked up the bottle of wine and poured more for both of them; it didn’t exactly go with the food anymore, but Hell’s wine was strong and he wasn’t feeling particularly picky now that the presentation was over. “What is it?”

“What’s what?”

“You have something running around through that tricky little mind of yours. Don’t think I can’t see it.”

“Just thinking,” Angel Dust said thoughtfully. “Y’know… we’ve been livin’ in this hotel for a while. By now I know a fair bit of dirt on everybody who lives here… ‘cept you.”

Alastor raised an eyebrow at him. “I could easily say you know as much about me as most anyone else does.” Probably more. “I could also say there isn’t much to know.”

“I believe the first one.”

“Hah. Alright, I’ll play along. Why so curious?”

Angel Dust thought about it for a second before he picked up his wine in a third hand. “I dunno, really. I guess I find you interestin’.” Apparently, Alastor made some kind of face at that, because Angel Dust immediately laughed. “Oh, come on, you can’t think it’s that weird.”

“Interesting isn’t usually the word people use.” Alastor took a small sip of his wine, but it seemed like his dinner companion was waiting for him to elaborate, so he tilted his head and squinted his eyes. “What, precisely, would you like to know?”

“Hm. …I have an idea,” Angel Dust said, somewhat quixotically. “Y’like games, right, Smiles?”

“I don’t think I like where this is going,” Alastor said, his eyes only narrowing further.

“You will, you will,” Angel Dust said, waving one hand at him. “I know you like knowin’ shit. I don’t talk much about myself neither. So, how about this: I’ll ask you a question, and you can either answer it or refuse to. For every question you answer, I’ll answer somethin’ about me, no matter what it is. Sound fair?”

Alastor had to admit that he found himself intrigued. He was by means no expert when it came to interpersonal interactions and relationships, but he knew a proverbial brick wall when he saw one, and Angel Dust was impenetrable with his snark and his sarcasm and his deeply inappropriate comments. “…very well, I’ll accept, with the understanding that I don’t have to explain my refusal to answer.”

“Nah, y’don’t have to explain nothin’. So… you said your mother taught you how to cook, right? What was that like? I know you were born before me.”

Alastor contemplated before he set his glass down. “…it would have been… 1909 or 1910, I suppose,” he said. “My maman and I lived alone, just the two of us.”

“In… New Orleans,” Angel Dust said, like he was guessing.

Alastor was surprised to hear him pronounce it correctly, close enough to how a proper native would. “More specifically, a little village on the outside, but yes. I had no siblings and my father was… well. I have no idea!” Alastor said with a sharp and humorless grin. “Never met the man, very fortunate for him. In any case, she informed me she had no intention of doing all of the work, my ‘man of the house’ status be damned, and if I was going to be helping her with the housework then I might as well do it properly. She began teaching me how to cook her way. Quite the punishing taskmaster, I must say, but straight to the point. It was particularly fortunate, since she accurately predicted that I would never marry and I would have been quite helpless once I was on my own without her instruction.” Angel Dust was smiling at him. It was strange. Alastor took particular note of the way his cheeks pushed his eyes into the shape of a pleased cat’s. “What about you, sha? What was your little homestead like?”

Angel Dust made an irritated sound, rolling his eyes. “I was the youngest of three. My father was a mob boss, but he wasn’t, y’know, big league or anythin’. He and my mom were fuckin’ awful, always screamin’ at each other and us. And my older brother was a tool our whole childhood, up until he figured out how much our parents sucked. Only one I got along with in a regular way was my twin sister. It's no wonder I ran away from home.”

“Oh?” Alastor raised one eyebrow. “What spurred that on?”

“Pops found out I was a queer and decided the best place for me was an asylum. Y’know, to ‘get better’,” he said, making air quotes with his fingers and rolling his eyes. “And I said fuck that, so I left the state. Ended up goin’ back a year later, tho. How old were you when you started killin’ people?”

Alastor tilted his head, debating whether or not to answer. And then, to figure out which event truly qualified for the specific inquiry. “…thirteen, but that time, it was an accident. …mostly,” he amended with a wide grin. “Fifteen, the first time I did it with true intention. It was just so much fun that I kept it up until the day I died.”

“What, didja get caught?”

“Ah ah, that’s two questions,” Alastor said, shaking a finger at him. “This is your game, you know.”

“Yeah, you’re right, dammit.”

“Did your father send you to the asylum when you returned to New York?”

Angel Dust sighed. “Yeah,” he said, full of resignation. He picked up his fork and stabbed lightly at his piece of cake. “He was furious, sent me there straight away. Ended up bein’ stuck in there…” He hesitated, thinking, going a little cross-eyed in the effort. “…shit, sorry, I don’t remember it too good. Four years? Five? It was… ‘33 when I went in, and luckily they’d just discovered insulin shock therapy, so that was fun. Only had to put up with that for a bit, because they figured out cardiazol shock therapy pretty soon after.”

Alastor winced, feeling the alien pang of genuine sympathy. “How barbaric.”

Angel Dust smiled. “Well, I got released a couplea months after they heard about a fun new procedure comin’ outta Portugal.” He held his hands up and made an arc with them, like he was demonstrating a marquee. “The prefrontal lobotomy. Of course, they didn’t know what they were doin’, and they fucked it up. Went in gay, left gay and with a hole in my head, and a helluva lot meaner than I was goin’ in.”

“I see,” Alastor said thoughtfully. “That explains the…” He touched the spot under his own left eye.

“Yeah.” Angel Dust shrugged. “It was a long time ago, I’m over it. So didja get caught or what?”

Alastor sighed. “I was hoping you had forgotten your question.”

“Y’don’t have to answer, y’know.”

“I’m well aware.” Alastor contemplated just refusing, but something compelled him to speak. “Frankly it was much worse than that. I never was caught in my activities, not incarcerated once. My undoing was nothing more or less than dumb luck on the part of some buffoon of a hunter. He likely had no idea that I was there, and I doubt he ever suffered any sort of consequence.”

He bid the sound of the barking dogs to leave him be, the bitter shock that lasted less than a moment, and the desperation for a reason, rather than the suggestion that in the end, it did not matter how fiercely he took hold of his own fate.

Angel Dust tilted his head. “…I’d think even huntin’ accidents were takin’ seriously in the South.”

“Not when the one holding the gun was white.”

“Oh.” Angel Dust thought for a moment, then his eyes widened. “Ohhh. Shit. Creole. Right.”

Alastor’s smile was humorless. “Just another day in the shining utopia that is the home of the free.”

“Still bullshit.”

“I couldn’t agree more. You were Italian, you said? It must have been complicated for you, too, I remember hearing about the David Hennessy case.”

Angel Dust shrugged. “It was New York, it was… complicated. But I woulda stood out no matter my heritage. I was born with albinism, straight through. White hair, pale eyes, the whole thing. Woulda ended up in the circus if my family wasn’t rich.”

“So… you’re saying you haven’t changed much. Physically, I mean.”

“You got no clue how hard it was, adjusting to having four whole new arms.”

They kept on this way—Alastor granting Angel Dust comparatively minor details of his own life, and receiving something of a rant in exchange that made it sound like the spider had been dying to talk to someone about all of this—until it was surprisingly late indeed. They had moved to the chairs in front of the fireplace, Angel Dust curled up in a way that was somehow still remarkably elegant, even in that dress.

Both chairs were meant to be occupied, weren’t they? Or was the other always just a symbol, a reminder of what I may never have?

“…this isn’t related to the game, but… There is something else I am curious about,” Alastor said after a stretch of surprisingly comfortable silence. “You may, of course, refuse to answer.”

“Hm?” Angel Dust focused on him. “…okay. Hit me.”

“It’s about your work.” He saw Angel Dust stiffen, just a little, but continued on anyway. “I was wondering how someone like you, fiercely independent and outspoken as you are, ended up working for someone like Valentino, of all sinners.”

Angel Dust sighed, tilting his head against the curve of the chair and looking at the fireplace. His gaze carried them far away, the empty green glow casting his companion in an eerie light that made Alastor’s stomach turn. “…a series of bad decisions that didn’t seem unreasonable at the time,” he said. “I mostly made my way in Hell hookin’ or performin’ in skeezy clubs, when I could get gigs. Sometimes I managed to get drag shows, those were my favorite. And I always liked bein’ on stage, it wasn’t somethin’ I really got to do in life.”

He stopped for a moment, and Alastor let him think. He couldn’t help wondering if anyone else had ever spoken to him about his earliest days in Hell… besides his friend Cherri Bomb, most likely. That was the sort of thing close chums discussed, right? Or did they focus solely on the party life? Perhaps he could inquire about that later.

“…Val saw one of my shows pretty soon after he joined Vox, before they were actually the Vees. Dunno what he was even doin’ there, he was an overlord and somethin’ of a celebrity in the sex work circuit. Everybody wanted to impress him, y’know? If Valentino thinks you’re worth somethin’, you could find yourself with real, steady work, maybe even in his new porn industry. And we all wanted that, y’know? It was…” Angel Dust contemplated his words. “…it felt safer,” he amended, and though he didn’t elaborate, Alastor couldn’t begin to imagine what sort of dangers and indignities could befall someone in that career. If Valentino felt like a safer option, it had to be more foul than even Alastor had imagined. “He stayed for my show, and he wanted to talk to me after. Said it wasn’t the first time he’d seen me. Said he liked me.”

Alastor could picture it quite viscerally: Valentino using his power and influence to manipulate a weaker sinner, Angel Dust hopeful and desperate and comparatively naive. He found his dislike of the moth growing more targeted, and steadily more intense as he listened.

“He offered me a job, and it was a good offer… or, at least, better than any I’d ever had before. And I was… taken with him,” Angel Dust said, his tone caught somewhere between wistful and disgusted with himself. “He was very charmin’ in those days. I guess he knew I could have left at any time, and he wanted to make sure I didn’t do that. He bought me clothes, he gave me a beautiful bedroom, he got Fat Nuggets for me… I guess I thought I was in love with him.”

Alastor’s claws sank into the arm of his chair, popping through the cloth to dig into the stuffing and the wooden frame beneath. Angel Dust didn’t appear to notice, even as Alastor’s teeth gritted hard enough for the Radio Demon to hear it.

“I still dunno why, exactly, I signed my soul over. Thought it was a good idea at the time, but I couldn’t have given you a real reason, even back then. After that, I guess Val didn’t feel he had to behave himself anymore. I mean, he was still charmin’ as long as he was happy with me, but he didn’t have to be nice when I wasn’t doin’ what he wanted like he did before. And by the time I figured out I didn’t have a choice no more, it was way too fuckin’ late.”

Angel Dust’s silence was more final than before, and far more contemplative. He had his elbow on the arm of the chair and his chin in his hand as he stared at the fireplace; Alastor couldn’t remember ever seeing him so melancholy, and he was struck by the image for two reasons. First, he found it hard to believe that Angel Dust was comfortable showing that level of emotional vulnerability in front of him, of all people… and second, he didn’t like seeing Angel Dust’s sadness, and it made something deep inside him want to rip whatever was causing that sadness into a thousand bloody pieces.

“You deserve far better than him,” Alastor said quietly, his usual crackle vanishing from his voice. “You always did.”

Angel Dust exhaled sharply, the ghost of a derisive laugh. “Do I?” he asked, glancing at Alastor. Something that he saw in the Radio Demon’s face gave him pause, and he sat up a little. “…thanks. For sayin’ that, I mean,” he said in a more serious tone. “I guess you don’t know anythin’ about breakin’ out of a soul contract, do you, Smiles?”

Alastor’s smile felt more ironic on his face than it usually did. “No, sha, I do not.”

“I was afraid of that.” Angel Dust sighed, then smiled. “It’s okay. It is,” he said insistently when Alastor opened his mouth. “I don’t believe it’ll last forever. I can’t. And one day, I won’t have to worry about Val anymore.”

“I think you’re right.”

Their conversation redirected, but the topic cast a heaviness over the last few minutes before Angel Dust left. Despite the air, he thanked Alastor for the evening in a manner so sincere that Alastor couldn’t question it, and when the spider smiled, there was a gentle glow in the magenta of his eyes that told the Radio Demon that he was…

…happy?

Was Angel Dust somehow happy, even now, even after talking at such length about his boss… even while alone with Alastor in his room?

He couldn’t imagine such a thing to be possible, and he would have dismissed it as ridiculous… if not for that soft, warm glow in his eyes.

Alastor went back to his chair and sent his shadow after Angel Dust; it followed him to his door, then stopped right outside it once the spider had gone in. Through the strange channels that connected him to the shadowy form, he heard Angel Dust walking around his room, humming softly to himself—Dream A Little Dream, an old standard Alastor knew well—and telling his hellpig that he had a good time.

“Dammit, Nuggs,” Angel Dust whispered beyond the door, “what am I gonna do? He’s so—”

Alastor dismissed the shadow before he lost his self control and sent it in to properly spy on the other sinner… or worse, found out what Angel Dust was about to say he ‘was so’. Once the shadow was back where it belonged, firmly attached to his feet, he sat and picked at the loose, torn threads in the arm of his chair and wondered when it was that he started wanting so fervently to add Valentino’s voice to his unearthly radio chorus.

•••

Angel couldn’t put his finger on exactly what it was, but something had shifted between him and Alastor after their dinner together.

He couldn’t tell if it was positive or negative, either, because Alastor seemed to be wrestling with how he felt about their interactions at all. Over the next two days, Angel saw Alastor three times: every single one of them, Alastor greeted him with undue enthusiasm, and then promptly remembered that he had something pressing to handle and excused himself. Even with that, Angel couldn’t believe that Alastor was mad at him, mostly because he wasn’t behaving like he was angry or even annoyed.

He also wasn’t acting like nothing had changed, so Angel didn’t know what to make of it.

“Off to work, Angel?” Vaggie asked as Angel picked up the pen to sign out in the ledger on the hotel counter. She was focused on what looked like the hotel’s books, flipping slowly through them as though she was less working and more reading.

“Yep. What can I say, it was a nice few days off,” Angel said casually, trying not to let it show just how uncomfortable he was with the idea of seeing Valentino again.

The harpy angel glanced up at him, her expression serious. Angel blinked twice, wondering if he was about to get beaten up; he and Vaggie had never really gotten along, and despite the fact that they rarely fought anymore, he never knew what to expect from her. “Are you…” She stopped herself, thought for a moment, and he could actually see her decide to go through with it. “Are you getting yourself into trouble, chico?”

“What?” Angel blinked twice at her. “Absolutely not! I ain’t doin’ shit.”

“Yeah,” Vaggie said flatly, her one eye half lidded. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed that something is going on. You’re acting weird. So is Alastor. So are Husk and Niffty. And yeah, fine, you’re all always weird, but this is different.”

Angel felt his mask dropping, and fought to keep it on. “Don’t worry about me, Vags, I’m fine. I ain’t gettin’ myself into anythin’ I can’t handle.”

Vaggie rolled her eye. “I don’t think that’s ever been true, but fine. Whatever. Just…” She exhaled on a frustrated huff, stirring her bangs. “…if you need anything, or whatever… you can come talk to me.”

Angel frowned at the offer. “I’m not gonna compromise Charlie’s project. Don’t worry.”

“That isn’t why I’m offering.” Vaggie didn’t elaborate, going back to the books. “Try to have a good time at work.”

“…uh. Yeah. Right. …thanks.” Angel stared at her for another few seconds, but she didn’t look up, so he was left to wonder what the fuck that was all about as he headed out of the hotel and made his way to VoxTek.

Nothing felt different as he passed through the lobby and into a door marked ‘Employees Only’, and Angel wondered if that was proof that he was just being paranoid, or if there really was something legitimately wrong. Nobody spoke differently to him, and he returned the friendly greetings he got as he headed for the elevators and took one up to the 17th floor, which was entirely devoted to Valentino’s pornography department.

“Oh, thank fuck, you’re here,” Wire, Travis’s PA, said the instant he walked into the studio. Her depressed and ‘weight of the world’ hunch was more pronounced than usual, white hair curtained haphazardly around her face, her obsidian skin greyed from exhaustion and her white eyes somehow looking bloodshot, even with their black sclera. “Today is going to be weird and I need you, and everyone else, to please not act like it’s weird.”

“Oh, goodie,” Angel said flatly, removing his sunglasses and gesturing loosely with them. “Val in a mood today?”

“I… have no idea.” Wire tapped all fourteen of her fingers on the back of her clipboard with a rattling click like an overexcited centipede. “I… none of us have seen him today. He isn’t going to be here.”

Angel stared at her, his mind blanking for just a moment. “He’s… why?” Valentino had never not been present for one of Angel’s shoots in his entire career.

Wire shrugged, peering up through her curtain of hair. “We weren’t told. Just that Vox is standing in for him today.”

“Wha— Vox?!” Angel squeaked. “What the fuck?”

“That was our question. I have your scripts for tonight,” she said, pulling some papers off her clipboard and holding them out. “Wardrobe’s already got your stuff laid out in your dressing room, and hair and makeup is ready whenever you are. Try to make it fifteen, we’re sticking as close to schedule today as we can.”

“…yeah. Okay.”

Angel headed for his dressing room and picked up the first costume that had been laid out for him. It was very particularly placed, and immediately, Angel saw why; the black and deep crimson material was about eighty percent straps, black leather that wound up both legs to his hips and up all four arms from the middle of his hands to a few inches from his shoulders, as well as his waist. The dress wasn’t a dress, but material that went over his head and hung down his front and back with absolutely no attachments at the sides, instead held in place by the waist wrapping. Chains hung from his wrists, from a choker around his neck, and around his exposed hips, the look completed with a wide hood that hung across his exposed shoulders and held an inverted pentagram at the top that hung across his forehead.

Angel carefully pulled the black and crimson attire on—it wasn’t often that he got to wear black, let alone something this interesting, which he had to attribute to Vox and his obsession with aesthetics—and tried not to think of Alastor as he picked up the three props that had been left for him: a grimoire that contained what seemed to be his most significant lines and some fake seals and sigils with obvious sex imagery, a wicked-looking dagger with a long, curved blade, and a black dildo with a fairly simple shape. Stepping into black heeled boots, Angel picked up his script pages in his free hand and headed back into the main part of the studio.

It was colder than it usually was; Valentino insisted on keeping the studio almost sweltering for his own personal comfort, but… thinking about it, Angel wasn’t positive Vox could feel temperature. Or perhaps his machine parts would overheat? He sat in the chair that had been prepped for him and said hello to the hair and makeup team before going over the script while they worked.

It wasn’t too unusual of a scenario: sexy cultist summons otherworldly entity, uses it for his own pleasure until he loses control, entity takes over, quickest mind break in history. The dialogue was better than the usual scripts, and Angel begrudgingly attributed that to Vox as well, though he wouldn’t tell the CEO that; then again, Vox did serve as scriptwriting consultant on basically all of the company’s best-rated shows, so he supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised.

“Ah, hello, Angel Dust! How are you this evening?”

Speak of the Devil and he shall appear.

“Hey, Vox,” Angel said, turning his head enough to look up at the man himself, standing only a short distance away, wearing that smile that made him so popular among Hell’s housewife demographic. Recognizing immediately that they were playing this as chill and normal as was necessary for the company image, Angel favored him with a lazy, seductive smile. “Just goin’ over the pages for the first shoot. Yours, I take it? It’s gonna be a nice change, workin’ with one of your scripts. We don’t get to do that much here.”

“So glad to hear you approve!” Vox said with that telecaster brightness, placing his hands on his waist. “It’s been a while since I’ve been on this end of production. I’m very much looking forward to seeing Valentino’s department at work.”

Angel turned his head and tipped his face up slightly, opening his eyes and rolling them back as one of the team (he couldn’t tell who in this position) applied eyeliner to his waterline, enough that it would definitely run when he cried. “I was surprised when I heard Val wasn’t gonna be here today,” he said; he knew Vox could tell he was fishing, but he kept his flirtatious voice firmly in place regardless. “I hope he’s okay?”

“Oh, you know Val,” Vox said, which told Angel nothing. A few moments later, his hair and makeup were done, and Vox continued, “Would you ladies excuse us for a moment? I need to speak with Angel.”

The team scattered immediately, clearly glad to be out of the immediate range of Vox’s awareness. Angel didn’t blame them—he would have really liked to follow them to the other side of the studio—but he kept his seat, raising his eyes to meet Vox’s in the mirror when he felt the other sinner step up behind him.

Again.

“What’s up, Mister Boss Man?” Angel asked, glad his voice came out steady.

Vox considered him in the mirror, silently, and once again Angel was struck with the idea that Vox was evaluating him the same way he would do to a piece of art or furniture he was considering purchasing or, more accurately, one his spouse had chosen to decorate with and he hadn’t decided if he liked it or not yet. Valentino terrified Angel more than anyone had ever met, but no one—no one—had ever made Angel feel like an object more than Vox.

Vox’s face was strange in the mirror. When just looking at Vox, it was sometimes hard to remember that his face was a magical digital projection and not an actual, tangible thing; but in the reflection, Angel could see the minor artifacting on his screen, tiny pixels that flickered at the corners of his eyes when he blinked or the edge of his mouth when it moved. It was unnerving.

Vox leaned over him, placing his hands on the arm rests of his chair and functionally trapping him against the makeup station vanity. His smile was still in place, but his words and tone no longer matched it. Overhead, a fluorescent light flickered with an electric buzz, casting the two of them into odd shadows for a moment. “I’m not sure what, precisely, you did to Valentino,” he said quietly, “but I suggest you don’t do it again.”

Angel suddenly felt cold. “I… whaddya mean?”

“I mean, Valentino is currently not allowed to be in the studio with you, because I’m not positive he won’t kill you next time he sees you. He was very angry the last few times I’ve spoken with him.”

The light flickered again, more violently, and Angel swallowed painfully as he racked his brain to try and come up with what, exactly, it was that he had done wrong. “I… I don’t…”

“At the moment, my presence here is currently protection for you. If you give me a reason, any reason at all, I will rescind that protection and leave you to deal with Valentino alone. Am I clear, Angel Dust?”

“Y… yes, Vox,” Angel said weakly, tearing his eyes from the mirror to stare at the vanity’s table top. “I won’t. I promise.”

“Good.” Vox straightened, and out of the corner of his eye, Angel saw his hand moving to grab Angel’s shoulder with threatening, electric blue claws. Just before he made contact, the light that had been flickering on and off burst with a loud, sharp pop that sent glass and filament to the floor where it shattered further against the wood. Nearby, at the same moment, a camera short-circuited with a buzz and a few smaller pops that preceded a thin trail of smoke leaking from the metal seams of the casing.

“Oh, what the fuck,” Vox muttered under his breath, withdrawing to find someone to sweep up and fix the camera. Angel didn’t wait, sliding out of the chair and grabbing his props and script before he hurried towards the set. He only got a few steps away before he hesitated, then turned, looking back to where the camera was still smoking and a stagehand was hurriedly sweeping up the broken light.

There wasn’t anything else there, but…

Angel shook the feeling off and turned again. He needed to focus. He needed to work. He needed to make sure Vox stayed happy with him, because if whatever had soured Valentino’s mood to the point that Vox himself felt the need to intervene… well, then, their CEO was right. Valentino probably would kill him.

•••

This had been a very bad idea.

Calm down.

There was nothing for it now, of course. He had already committed, and he wasn’t about to leave now that he knew the situation.

Of course, Alastor was not—strictly speaking—actually inside VoxTek’s studio. It wasn’t that he had any compunctions about going into Vox’s territory, nor did he have any fear, but Charlie had made it quite clear what had happened the last time a resident of the hotel had shown up at Angel Dust’s place of employment and attempted to meddle with his work. Alastor had no intention of making things more difficult for the little spider; he was simply… curious.

Their conversation from two nights earlier had been going through Alastor’s mind in a way that the words of others usually didn’t. Typically, Alastor simply filed things he learned about others in the annals of his exceptional memory, only bringing those details up when they were relevant. Angel Dust, however, was proving himself to be something of a persistent little… irritant? He supposed that was the right word, because for some reason, he found himself concerned with the other sinner returning to his place of employment alone and unattended. Of course, it wasn’t completely nonsensical; the Vees were inconsequential in the grand scheme of things, yes, but they were very determined, and even Alastor couldn’t deny that their methodology had become shockingly effective and efficient. If they said they would ‘fix a problem’, Alastor had no doubt that they would do their level best to be a pain in his neck, and that was an amusing little distraction that sounded neither little nor amusing.

Besides, they possessed the contract for Angel Dust’s soul, and what kind of hotelier would he be if he left the spider to fend for himself in such exceptionally unfair circumstances?

That was, in short, how Alastor found himself bidding his shadow to depart from the Hazbin Hotel and make its way to VoxTek. His physical form stayed comfortable and warm in his room, seated before his fireplace, but his mind and awareness was entirely placed within the tenebrous form that slipped from shadow to shadow until it reached the studio where Angel Dust made the lion’s share of his money.

Seeing Vox was… a surprise, to say the least; he assumed this would be beneath him, but then, assuming anything was beneath Vox was giving the other overlord too much credit. But seeing how he interacted with Angel Dust…

Alastor had thought many things about Angel Dust over the time they had known each other, but never once had he thought he would see the spider so… cowed. He looked small and frightened as Vox imposed himself over his chair with that poisoned smile and his murmured threats, and Alastor wondered: if this was the effect Vox had on him, how much worse was the hand of the one who held his leash?

Normally, such an open display of weakness would anger Alastor or, at the absolute least, frustrate him. But knowing Angel Dust the way he was beginning to, and knowing that he only feared those he had been given true reason to fear…

Alastor felt anger, yes. But it was not at Angel Dust.

The light exploding was an unfortunate mishap. The camera was slightly more intentional, mostly because it would probably be annoying and expensive to fix, but when he saw Vox about to lay his hand on the spider’s shoulder, he felt a spike of rage that he couldn’t contain. It did, at least, have the positive side effect of separating them, but the way Angel Dust turned to look back at the shadows made Alastor wonder if he’d been caught out. He briefly considered aborting this mission and returning his awareness to himself, because in truth, he wasn’t sure why he was here at all.

Then, the other sinner went to his set, and Alastor stayed. He wondered if he would regret not taking the opportunity to leave when he presented it to himself.

Stagehands scuttled about the set, getting everything ready for the shoot, and despite Alastor’s utter disdain for anything related to picture shows he could not deny an interest in the process of their creation. Most of those who made them were, after all, artists; the fact that their product was worthless did not change their capacity for creativity or their skill. When Alastor had first been getting to know the hotel’s residents, he had examined quite a number of Angel Dust’s pornographic films, and he’d found them almost unbearably dull… save one detail that seemed consistent throughout the entire catalogue: Angel Dust could act, and he could act well. Even when the script was unbearable garbage, he sold the scenario through either commitment or through playing up how absolutely absurd it was, and Alastor could tell when he was adlibbing because the dialogue suddenly improved dramatically.

Alastor wanted to see his working process. He wanted to watch him at his craft, no matter how pathetic the final product was. That was the way you got to know an artist, after all, and maybe… maybe through knowing his art, Alastor would begin to understand why Angel Dust had burrowed his way into the Radio Demon’s mind.

“Alright, everyone, let’s get focused,” Vox called to the room at large, cutting through Alastor’s thoughts in the most unpleasant way possible. He let his shadow drift closer to where Vox sat beside an avian-like sinner with black feathers and a heart-shaped iris; Travis, likely, if Alastor was remembering Angel Dust’s complaints accurately. Vox leaned closer to Travis, speaking in a low voice. “Let’s try to keep this to one take, wardrobe says the costume isn’t designed to be torn up more than once.”

Travis gave his boss the nod of the sycophant and raised his bullhorn, calling out over the studio in a strange and tinny voice. “We’re on single take mode, people! We’re down a camera, so you other three, keep that in mind when you’re covering shots! And I swear to fuck, Lars, if that boom mic shows up in one more shot I am shoving it up yer ass. Quiet on set!”

It was, admittedly, a bit fascinating to be on this side of the proceedings. The actual set seemed small for something that Alastor knew, logically, would look enough like a real outdoor location on film. The rest of the room was cast in darkness, the floor covered in heavy cables and so many people holding cameras or sound equipment, positioning lights, or just standing and watching.

The set itself looked like a night scene in the middle of a forest clearing. A large stone altar dominated the center—for the requisite fornication, Alastor presumed—with an actual fire lit in the foreground. Angel Dust knelt between the fire and the altar, the yellow-orange light of the flame casting shadows across his face and body that seemed even starker from the false silvery-blue moonlight cast by the can lights overhead. They had even managed to cast the illusion of shadowy tree branches across the floor, lending the scene an eerie sort of atmosphere that Alastor could appreciate.

“Okay, Angel baby,” Travis said, and Angel Dust looked up from the open book he held in two hands. “The lines ya got in yer book are the most important. Feel free to improv around whatever else, just give the deal-makers what they wanna see. Rocky, you ready?”

As Angel Dust nodded his acknowledgment, Alastor saw a large and furry paw rise up from behind the altar and give a thumbs up. “Ready!” a deep voice called.

“Good. Alright, people, we’re on in ten!”

As Travis counted down, Alastor watched Angel Dust close his eyes, roll his head, then let it hang, his hood covering his face with fabric and shadow. When the director called action, everything went silent in the room, save for the ambient noise of a gentle breeze rustling through tree leaves and the occasional sound of some animal out in the night.

Angel Dust kept his head down for several seconds, then slowly raised his face, his expression the somber and serious look of one who knew—or, at least, thought they knew—how dangerous the task they were about to undertake was. When he spoke, his Brooklyn accent had all but disappeared, temporarily abandoned in favor of a neutral tone that was softer and rounder but somehow still quintessentially him.

“To the Air of the North, I call upon thee: a sacrifice for the breath of Azazel in the domain of Egyn.”

The chains around Angel Dust’s wrists jingled softly, ominously, as he reached up with one hand and delicately twisted his fingers through a few strands of the hair-like fur at his crown. He pulled the strands free with a small gasp that was likely intended to spark the idea of eroticism, and Alastor could appreciate that, coupled with the brief and tiniest pinch at the corners of his eyes. He dropped the fur into the fire, where it caught with a bright blue spark and disappeared almost as quickly.

A summoning, Alastor thought, the scenario reminding him of a time quite long ago. The shadow was not his body, but even so, the realization made him feel as though a shiver passed across his skin.

“To the Fire of the South, I call upon thee: a sacrifice for the flames of Samael in the domain of Amaymon.”

Angel Dust reached into the fluff at his chest, which was apparently much thicker than Alastor had guessed, as he produced a small leather pouch tied with a cord from somewhere within it. With two hands, he opened the pouch, then tossed a pinch of whatever was inside into the fire; it caught with a spark and a loud hiss, and through the shadow, Alastor could smell saffron and ginseng.

“To the Earth of the East, I call upon thee: a sacrifice for the ground of Mahazael in the domain of Oriens.”

Now, Angel Dust’s voice was trembling, and his breath shook as he held one hand out. Slowly, he raised a curved, sharp dagger, one that looked specially designed for ritual work, and placed the blade against his open palm. He closed his fingers around it, his face losing its confidence in favor of trepidation and fear. Alastor could hear the rate of his breath increasing as he worked himself up, and then all at once, he truly did slice his hand open with a cry that was almost a high pitched moan. The black blood of the sinner, glittering with a red sheen in the firelight, poured from the wound on his palm and into the fire for a brief moment before it began to taper off. The only sounds Alastor could hear were the small, whispered hisses of the blood splattering the burning wood, and the shaken breath of the sinner as he gathered himself to finish his ritual. Angel Dust clenched his bloody hand into a fist and pressed it to his chest, smearing his chest fluff with black that gleamed red, and Alastor could not look away.

“To… the Water of the West… I call upon thee: a sacrifice for the rivers of Azrael… in the domain… of Paimon.”

Angel Dust swallowed with an audible click, then closed his eyes as he unclenched his bloody hand and held it out, his fingers wet and trembling. Alastor could see the fear and determination on his face as he braced himself, then thrust his hand into the fire. Angel Dust’s scream was a howl of pain that married with ecstasy, his fangs bared as he threw his head back and cried out to the false sky for relief that would not be granted.

It was the most beautiful sound Alastor had ever heard.

The fire turned a bright purple, then it seemed to dissipate upwards, swirling from the firewood and into the air before it vanished in a cloud of pale smoke.

Gasping with pain and the exertion of his ritual, Angel Dust clasped his now burned hand to his chest—was it an effect, or had he really hurt himself for authenticity?—and looked around with wide eyes that glowed a deep magenta in the loss of the firelight. He swallowed again, slowly gaining control over his breathing, and waited, but nothing appeared to be happening.

“…fuck,” Angel Dust whispered, turning to his book and flipping frantically through it. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…! No, it was right, I know it was right…!” His voice slowly raised until he got to his feet, still holding his injured hand close to himself as he looked around with a manic sort of desperation. “Where are you…?!” he shouted at nothing. “I know you’re there, I know you can hear me! I paid your price, and you will obey me!!” His voice pitched into a scream, cracking just a little, and echoed through the studio so much the same as it would through a forest clearing.

For a moment, there was nothing but Angel Dust’s breath. Then, there was a crack, like a bone or the branch of a tree snapping, and the spider tensed. Another cracking followed, and then another, as a deep red light slowly illuminated the space behind the altar from the ground. A figure began rising up behind Angel Dust, clawed hands grabbing hold of the altar to pull a body broader and taller than the spider up from what seemed like a deep pit.

Angel Dust began turning with wide, terrified eyes as the figure continued to rise, standing to his full height and towering over the one that had summoned him. The demon stood in sharp silhouette, furred and muscular with great horns and a deep, growling pant as he stared down at Angel Dust.

“Who dares to summon me?” he asked in a deep, guttural voice, one that seemed to rattle through Angel Dust’s body by the way he shuddered.

“Your new master,” Angel Dust said, his voice gaining a confidence and bravado that began to carry into his posture. “You are now bound to me, creature, as a slave to his goddess, and you will do as I command.”

The demon laughed, a low and unnerving chuckle that would have made the fur along Alastor’s spine stand up if he truly stood in the same space. “You presume to command me?” He was slowly walking around the altar, but Angel Dust met him at the foot of it and placed his bloody and burned hand on the demon’s chest. He froze with a startled gasp, and Angel Dust smirked wide and sharp as his glowing eyes narrowed. Then, with a motion that looked graceful and delicate, he pushed the creature backwards onto the altar.

As the large demon landed on his back, Angel Dust used all the arachnid grace his body possessed to climb up onto the stone and crawl over the supine figure. His smile was growing into something different, something at once crazed and enticing and perhaps what was known as erotic, his legs spreading to straddle the larger creature’s hips and his two lower hands pressing against his chest to keep him down.

Alastor felt a sudden and alien sort of desperation to know what sort of action or word or dance could draw that smile out of Angel Dust without the compulsion of performance.

The spider leaned forward on his lower hands, arcing his back and stretching his upper set of arms over his head in a display slow and languid, his hand smearing blood along the leather strapping that hid so much of his skin and fur. “I paid your price,” Angel Dust repeated, his voice no longer a panicked scream, but a low purr that sent a strange sort of pulsing sensation along the memory of Alastor’s skin. “And now, you will service me, creature.”

Angel Dust rolled his hips in a manner that seemed too rough and violent to be typical of pornography, and the creature grunted with equal pain and pleasure. He moved as though he was going to sit up, but Angel Dust was quicker, and like a spider hunting its prey, he grabbed the creature by his horns and forced his head back down onto the stone as he bore over him in a beautiful and lithe arch. Alastor could feel the flesh around his own antlers tingling as Angel Dust, with that same smile, opened his mouth and ran his tongue along the ridges of the striped horn.

It was here that Alastor had expected to lose interest and planned to take his leave, but the sight of Angel Dust, masking such obvious fear with a guise of control and power, burned and bleeding and armed with that dagger, transfixed him. The spider rolled his hips against the beast’s pelvis again, his head falling back and his breath leaving in a slow hiss, as though he was content to take his pleasure at his own leisure.

But the demon beneath him had other plans, and Alastor’s own breath shuddered as a large and clawed hand suddenly grabbed the chain around Angel Dust’s throat and yanked. With a fluidity he should not have possessed, the creature switched their positions, now kneeling between the spider’s spread legs as he lay sprawled on the altar.

“What—?! No!” Angel Dust shouted, a note of panic in his voice as his eyes widened. “You can’t do this!”

“Then stop me, little one,” the creature growled with a low laugh. Angel Dust bared his teeth and raised his hand with the dagger, but before he could stab the beast, his wrist was caught in one of those powerful hands and slammed down onto the stone top of the altar above his head. Angel Dust cried out in unmistakable arousal, his fingers dropping the dagger over the side of the stone where it fell to the ground out of reach.

“No, stop it…!” Angel Dust’s protests were weaker now; it should have been enough to take Alastor out of the moment, and yet, he could do nothing but stare as the beast somehow attached the chains around his wrists to the altar, spreading his arms and leaving his body vulnerable. “Release me!”

“You and I both know you don’t want that.” The beast grabbed the front of Angel Dust’s robe and ripped, claws tearing the fabric to ribbons as he pulled most of it free from his body. Angel Dust cried out as he was exposed, his back arching off the stone and his head turning to the side. “You will not escape me.”

Panting, Angel Dust narrowed those glowing eyes at him, cheek still pressed to the stone. At the same time, his lips curved into that sharp, crazed smirk again.

“Do your worst.”

Alastor paid no more attention to the beast. He could not look away from Angel Dust’s face, every twitch of pain and every cry of pleasure, the way he grimaced with gritted teeth and the way he exhaled so breathily as his lips spread into a wide and wanton smile, his body shuddering with barely-controlled ecstasy as he was thrust into again and again. His cries, his screams of “yes” and “more” and “fuck me”, his desperate and agonized begging…

Alastor was barely aware that he was losing control of his grasp on his shadow until he found himself staring at the floor of his own bedroom, his claws digging new grooves into the arms of his chair and his teeth clenched so hard he could hear his jaw creak. His antlers had grown and were heavy on his hanging head, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth and his entire body trembling as his shadow spasmed erratically on the floor and the wall, stretched long and misshapen, just too far from his own body to be called attached.

Alastor’s mind was a blank sheet of radio static that echoed through his bedroom, the pitch shifting wildly and sharply, one particularly high and powerful screech cracking the glass face of the clock on his mantle. Those sounds stayed on the periphery of his awareness, his mind focused on nothing but the image of Angel Dust, crazed and bloody and lost in the throes of violent passion that felt so, so much different in reality than it had on celluloid.

It took what seemed to be a small eternity for him to calm himself, his claws slowly pulling themselves from the wood frame of the chair, his antlers gradually receding to their normal size. His breathing was heavy, labored, like he had just been running for hours, his body exhausted from the foreign pressure of a restraint that he hadn’t shown in nearly a century, a thin bead of sweat running from his hairline just above his temple and trailing along his jaw.

Alastor was aware, on some level, that he had an erection. It was the third he’d ever had in his existence, and the first ever caused by anything besides a strictly physiological hormone shift.

He couldn’t think about it.

If he thought about it, he would lose himself again.

Angel Dust.

Strange little spider. Foolish, undisciplined, crude, clever, bright, silly, strange little spider.

Who are you, really?

What have you done to me?

•••

[blueathens]

Before You Go - Act One

Superhero!Reader x Superhero!Charles Leclerc Reader x Charles Leclerc AU! - Fantasy/Adventure

Features: Other Known People (Mason Mount, Ruben Dias, Daniel Ricciardo, Pierre Gasly, Lando Norris etc (used all fictionally)) and self created characters too

Everyone is aged differently, and age-differences have been changed - follow the character profiles to understand more.

(Part of my Charles Universe)

Playlist

Writing Rule||Character List||Navigation||Masterlist  

synopsis ⇢ In an alternative universe where there are superheroes and supervillains, in world so different from ours. In this alternative universe Charles loves Y/n, the women who works been working in the same restaurant since she was sixteen, the very same women who cares and raises her younger brother, and the same women who hates the billionaire. Y/n’s heart however did belong to another, to a man who swung through the city every so often, saving their world with his grumpy companion, Ghost, and a few other heroes. Her heart belonged to Spider-Man.

When he’s not being a so called billionaire, and when she’s not being a waitress, they both become their secret identities, he Spider-Man, and her as Ghost.

(Charles loves Y/n, Y/n loves Spider-Man, but despite her love, she hides it when she’s Ghost and expresses that Ghost and Spider-Man were platonic companions, and she’s is only allowed to love Spider-Man when she’s herself)

Neither one knowing the other’s true identity - and maybe if they did, maybe things would be much easier for them - but in none of their universes do they ever experience an “easy” life.

This is for the ones who grew up thinking they would one day be a superhero like the ones in the comics. To the ones who grew up pretending to be superheroes, never realising they were now truly one. This is for those heroes who are fighting an invisible battle. I see you. And I’m proud - keep going! This is for our heroes.

main genres ⇢alternative universe, found family, mythical creatures au, mutual pinning, hurt/comfort, enemies to lovers, enemies to friends, platonic love, friends to lovers, childhood enemies to friends, soulmates, opposites attract, lovers in denial, superhero x superhero, fight to get back to you, secret relationship, complicated relationships, slow burn,

↳ fluff, angst and smut are all included into this series

warning ⇢ explicit content, graphic violence, gore, mature themes, strong language, death (including main characters, side character, minor characters), mental health and injuries, alcohol/drugs/smoking, references to my other “charles leclerc universes” from other series,

↳ please refrain if you are sensitive to any of these themes. Please also keep in mind that not all warnings may be listed above - all warnings though fit into the series.

note ⇢ updates will be once a week, the day of the week has not been decided yet or what time it will come out on those days. Those will sorted once planning is completed. I’m hoping this will get me out of my many months worth of writes block :)

↳ to be informed when there’s an update, you can either turn @blueathens notifications on, or ask to be added to the series’ masterlist.

status ⇢ planning and writing

act one blurb ⇢ Ghost is planning to retire - she is going to retire, or so she says. Charles is still falling deeply for the waitress who has disliked him since their childhood. And the world just has other plans for the friendly neighbourhood spider, and the hero who just wants a break.

o. teaser

i. chapter one: title name unknown -arriving soon-

ii. chapter two: title name unknown -arriving soon-

iii. chapter three: title name unknown -arriving soon-

[spaceyaceface]

Marvel Masterlist

Peter Parker

Soulmate - Oneshot. Is it possible for your soulmate to be two people? Warnings: None.

Tear In My Heart - Oneshot. Song Fic. When she gets kidnapped, can Y/N rely on a certain someone to save her? Warnings: Hostage situation. Blood. Death. Suicide. 

Fake - Oneshot. Fake Dating AU. Peter just wanted Liz’s attention. Y/N wanted so much more. Warnings: None.

Real - Oneshot. Part Two to Fake. Peter realizes he might have been wrong all along. Warnings: None. 

Fine? Not Fine - Oneshot. Y/N and Peter have very different opinions when it comes to being mugged. Warnings: Attempted mugging.

Like I Do - Oneshot. Peter comforts Y/N when she’s feeling down. Warnings: Mentions of bullying.

Requirements - Oneshot. Y/N has a list of qualities she wants for her boyfriend. Peter wants to know if he has them. Warnings: None. 

Make You Feel My Love: Two Shot. Part Two. Y/N would do anything to be able to love Peter. Warnings: Bombing in a public place. Injuries including burns (not graphic). Medically induced coma. 

Nine Days - Series. Complete. Fake Dating AU. Y/N has to bring a plus one to her cousin’s wedding. Several states away. Road trip with her best friend and newly dubbed fake boyfriend, Peter Parker? You better believe it. However, Peter sees this as a very special opportunity. Nine days. That’s what he’s giving himself to get Y/N L/N to fall in love with him. Warnings: See individual chapters. 

--> Day 1 Day 2 Day 3 Day 4 Day 5 Day 6 Day 7 Day 8 Day 9 

Boring - Series. Complete. Soulmate AU. Y/N’s life is, well, boring. But when she moves back to her old town and comes face to face with old ‘friends’, it might not stay that way. Warnings: See individual chapters.

--> Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

Talking about your crush on Spider-Man in front of Peter - Blurb. Warnings: None.

Being a Stark and knowing your friend Peter is Spider-Man - Blurb. Warnings: None.

Being Peter’s friend... but Spider-Man’s enemy - Blurb. Warnings: None.

Going to the pound with Peter - Blurb. Warnings: None.

“Peter, what are you doing?” - Blurb. Warnings: None.

Seeing Peter change into his suit in a back alley - Blurb. Warnings: None.

Cuddling with Peter on a sleepless night - Blurb. Warnings: None.

[kittynannygaming]

[The Sandman] Bound - Epilogue

Title: Bound

Word count: 418

Fandom: The Sandman

Pairing: Dreamling, Desunity, Despoe, Hob/Eleanor, Corinthiel, Dream/Past relationships

Rated: T

Warning: NOTHING GRAPHIC BUT Mention of child’s death and adults’ death, mention of suicide, Desire’s scheming

Summary: When you’re 10 (for a human) or the equivalent (for not-human), you’re given (during your sleep) a pet, representation of your soulmate. Thing is, both soulmates need to be born for them to appear. Dream of the Endless thought he didn’t have a soulmate, until a puppy appear near to him while meditating. On Earth, at the same moment, it is the year 1356 and Robert ‘Hob’ Gadling is just born. When he’s 10, he got the poshest, biggest black kitten with a very mean streak. Of course, neither Dream nor Hob see themselves in the other’s pet.

Epilogue: The (many) changes that one little surprise can make.

How having a soulmate and an animal companion changed things for the Endless and Hob.

Things weren’t perfect but they were good.

Let’s begin with Destiny. Everything began with Destiny. 200 years after Dream got out of the fishbowl, his soulmate was born. His companion was a snake-like creature with iridescent scales and 4 eyes the colour of amber named Rainbow. His soulmate (an historian, Mere-phre) was from a planet far from Earth were people could change their gender to adapt to the situation, their companion was a spider named Fatalis.

Death’s soulmate was born a long time ago but they couldn’t met until 2054. Indeed, Death’s soulmate was Hestia, Goddess of Hearth and Home. Death’s companion was her goldfish, Slim. Hestia’s companion was another goldfish named Wandsworth. The two fishes shared an aquarium and their companions, Death’s home. When Death got home, she felt the tension wash away just because of Hestia’s presence.

Dream, the Morpheus version of him, didn’t die. Daniel was always meant to be his successor but now, they could do things at a quieter pace. It was 10 years after the Corinthian was remade that a companion appeared for both him and Daniel. Corinthian had a ram named Cream Puff and Daniel had a wolf named Hunter.

Destruction’s soulmate was a French preschool teacher named Adelaïde Beaubois. When they met, Adelaïde thought his art was his son’s art. It was very awkward but she invited him to teach painting and colours to the 3 to 4 year’s old kids once a week. They absolutely loved him. It wasn’t long before he got an official contract.

Desire’s soulmate, Unity, lived in the Dreaming, after sacrificing herself instead of her dear Rose. She was close enough to Desire’s realm they can meet often. Sugar, the fox met Peacock, the Dove.

Despair’s soulmate was born the 19th January of the year 1809 and was one of Dream’s protegé. His name was Edgar Allan Poe. Despair was surprised when a baby raven appeared near her but she loved Melancholy. Edgar has a very smart rat named Gloom.

Delirium’s soulmate came from a planet not so different of Lewis Carroll’s Wonderland. She was absolutely smitten with Folly, her white rabbit and Liddell, her soulmate, a metamorph, had a wolpertinger named Hat.

Do you remember that Calliope had a raven has a companion (whose name is Luka)? Well, apparently, it was because she had a Raven (or ex-raven really) as a soulmate. Dear Lucienne, who had a hummingbird named Lyra.

They lived and had adventures and reunions and children. But this is another story.

Ram

Beta: In progress

For @the-centennial-husbands-bigbang

Masterlist

[o-kaythislooksbad]

1. werewolf AU kitten steps by lmx | leverage | g | no archive warnings apply

2. written by someone who follows you opus 39; poly pool noodle by ivvic | marvel, dcu | m | no archive warnings apply

3. BFFs andy's rule by no_illusions | the old guard | e | graphic depictions of violence, major character death, rape/non-con

4. daring rescue rescue by orphan_account | iron man | t | no archive warnings apply

5. bodyswap the therapeutic benefits of a bad star trek episode by caelumcalamitas | good omens | t | creator chose not to use warnings

6. author's oldest fic family traditions by halocentury | flashpoint | g | no archive warnings apply

7. crossover /fusion fic tracks by gingerenvy | the avengers, snowpiercer | not rated | major character death

8. soulmates the teddy bear by sivan325 | the witcher | g | no archive warnings apply

9. remix fic pair waiting for something more by wyxan | spider-man, dcu | g | no archive warnings apply & wrote myself out of the history books by there_must_be_a_lock | spider-man, dcu | t | no archive warnings apply

10. heist well-versed in etiquette, extraordinarily nice by laiqualaurelote | good omens | g | no archive warnings apply

11. de-aging/kidfic not so small a thing by herdingflowers | the witcher | not rated | creator chose not to use warnings

12. video edit/fanmix crawling from the wreckage by gwenfrankenstien | doom patrol | t | no archive warnings apply

free space review of 890 fifth avenue (50th anniversary edition) by thrakaboom | marvel 616 | g | no archive warnings apply

13. fix-it fic coloring outside the lines by phenixflare | gravity falls | g | no archive warnings apply

14. magic the problem with magical jewelry by 0mooncrimes0 | moon knight, the punisher, marvel | t | creator chose not to use warnings

15. podfic walk away (from all you've never known) by dyinggravy, stereden | percy jackson and the olympians | g | major character death

16. secret relationship observations by xylodemon | venom | g | no archive warnings apply

17. part of a challenge or event take two by crazybeagle | supernatural | not rated | creator chose not to use warnings

18. only one bed a vacationer's guide to being unexpectedly married by treescape | star wars | t | no archive warnings apply

19. sports AU back to the drift (pacrim-a-thon) by kitoky | pacific rim | t | creator chose not to use warnings

20. small fandom happier by husborth | new gods | g | no archive warnings apply

21. didn't know they were dating dearly beloved by thevioletviolents | star wars | t | no archive warnings apply

22. new (to you) pairing someone like you by flowerparrish | marvel | t | no archive warnings apply

23. unfinished/work in progress in which there is, in fact, a farmhouse by mangneov (orphan_account) | ant-man, mcu | m | major character death

24. oldest fic in the fandom even when you win, you lose by angelan | the hunger games | t | no archive warnings apply

[bulkyphrase]

Cap-IM Rec Week - Golden Oldie Thursday

Day 4 of @cap-ironman's rec week event!

It was hard to pick from all my pre-2019 bookmarks, so my criteria for this list were a little more limited than the prompt. These are some of my favorite fics that are more than 10 years old, and haven't appeared on one of my previous rec lists.

A Particular Style by sinuous_curve (MCU | Explicit | No Archive Warnings Apply | 3,640 words)

Date: August 12, 2012

Summary: “The erotic tale of one camp counselor’s descent into lesbian madness?” Toni rattles off the summary, pressing the back of her hand to her forehead in a swoon that Steph can’t see. “I can’t fault your taste. It was always one of my favorites.”

Betwixt by tsukinofaerii (616 | Not Rated | Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con | 7,968 words)

Date: October 31, 2009

Summary: Steve is pulled into an alternate universe that could have been plucked from his nightmares. All he wants to do is get home alive. Tony may have other ideas.

The Wheels of Inevitability by sinuous_curve (MCU | Explicit | No Archive Warnings Apply | 1,241 words)

Date: October 31, 2012

Summary: “You know, once in high school I got into an argument about whether or not the serum made your tits bigger,” Toni says, threading a loop of black cord down the center of Steph’s sternum.

More below the cut!

Apparently Only One Meal From Barbarism by valtyr (616 | Explicit | Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con | 2,172 words)

Date: September 19, 2010

Summary: The Savage Land: "All kinds of mutates and dinosaurs and big cheetahs and a surprising amount of acceptable nudity." - Spider-Man

Incident Report by justanotherStonyfan (MCU | Not Rated | Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings | 5,058 words)

Date: March 18, 2013

Summary: Everything would have been fine if Fury had just let them sleep before the debrief, but no, that would be too easy. But Super-Soldiers need their sleep, and problems are caused when they don't get it. Billionaires, though...they hardly need to sleep at all, right?

For Sale, One Super Soldier, Slightly Used by valtyr (MCU | Explicit | No Archive Warnings Apply | 1,692 words)

Date: September 24, 2010

Summary: Movieverse hookerfic. Don't judge me. I guess maybe issues of consent in the social pressure kind of way?

Heroes and Devils by marinarusalka (616 | Teen And Up Audiences | No Archive Warnings Apply | 35,275 words)

Date: September 20, 2011

Summary: Three years after Dr. Doom cast the entire island of Manhattan into the dark depths of the Echo Bazaar, life goes on. The people of Lowered Manhattan, including the Avengers, have adapted as best they could to their shadowy new existence. But then the Avengers find themselves in possession of a mysterious locked box that could save them all -- if it doesn't kill Tony first.

A Fire to be Kindled by drifloon (MCU | Teen And Up Audiences | No Archive Warnings Apply | 15,685 words)

Date: December 09, 2012

Summary: It makes perfect sense, of course. The serum gave Steve the perfect body, so why wouldn’t it also give him the perfect mind? In the quietness of his own mind, Tony can admit he’s a little stung Steve didn’t tell him, but he’s not really surprised. (Or: the one where Steve is smarter than Tony, and neither of them deal well.)

Bonded, Not Broken by Jaune_Chat (@jaune-chat) (MCU | Mature | Underage | 5,364 words)

Date: March 08, 2013

Summary: In a world where a touch reveals your soulmate, Steve Rogers, never frozen, thought he'd never find his perfect match. Until the day he's fifty years old and held newborn Tony Stark in his arms. Then he realized the man he'd been destined to love his whole life had just arrived. But how in the world could they ever be together, with a half-century of years between them?

as they learned to see by often_adamanta (MCU | Teen And Up Audiences | No Archive Warnings Apply | 11,643 words)

Date: May 30, 2013

Summary: Tony stayed silent through her terse explanation, anger growing. When Natasha was finished, he asked, “So you’re telling me that Steve’s been missing for almost two months, most likely kidnapped by an unknown organization, a force which employs two brilliant but completely crazy scientists that hate Stark Industries because they were refused jobs on the basis of their psych evals, and I’m only hearing about this now?”

we don't need a heart of gold, we need the heart of a lion by Zekkass (MCU | Explicit | No Archive Warnings Apply | 16,879 words)

Date: April 17, 2012

Summary: 'You know what's an interesting plot bunny? And I'm sorry in advance. If Captain America was an alternate personality of Steve's or vice versa.'

[steele-soulmate]

Tattooed Wings, CHAPTER 611, Peter Steele & OFC, Soulmate AU

SUMMARY: Mary Claire Bradley meets her soulmate- literally- the famous Peter Steele of metal group Type O Negative. But will obstacles including trauma, stalkers, and toxic family members get in the way of their life?

WARNING: mentions of child rape (nothing graphic) PTSD, milk kink, soft smut, grinding, assault, fingering, hand jobs, blow jobs, 69, P in V sex, blood, noncon rape, violence, death, vandalism, graffiti, attempted kidnapping, break-ins, wild animal attacks, terrorist attack (sabotage) consensual impregnation, bareback, impregnation kink, creampies, terrorist attacks (shootings) hit and run pedestrian accident, precipitous labor, neonatal death, abandoned baby, child intoxication, death of a minor character, injured baby, kidnapped child

WORDS: 1045

“Hello!” I greeted the woman as she parked her car in the driveway. “You must be Millie Blackfield from Men’s Health! Come in!”

Millie stepped into utter madness.

“WALL!” screamed little girl, sending the Ratajczyk babies into forming a shield wall. Little girl had been learning about Vikings in her kindergarten class, and had been busy in reenacting her learnings with her army of Ratajczyk babies. “PULL!”

Katie was doing gentle yoga stretches and wriggling her toes that were confined in her bright red 3D printed cast. Elizabeth was curled up nearby devouring a copy of Nancy Drew and the Spider Sapphire Mystery. Their American Gil dollies were sitting “pretty as a peach” next to each other, their adorable buckteeth smiles lighting up the room.

“What can I get pictures of first?” Millie asked, not even blinking an eye at all the mayhem as Baby Jojo rolled a ball towards her feet. She gently kicked the ball back over towards her way, being greeted with a wild screech of glee from the little girl as Daisy rocketed out from who knows where and grabbed the ball.

“Upstairs, Peter is having me help him with his hair.” I pointed my lips towards the stairs.

“Ah, perfect!” Millie trailed after me, pausing to let me yell down to the kids that Elizabeth and Katie were in charge and not to make a big mess. “The kids seem like they’re good and well behaved. Can you let me into your secret?”

“Peter and I had made it obvious that the house is a safe place where it’s completely acceptable to be vulnerable and cry or to be enraged and scream and cry and tear things about. This house is full of love, and nothing more,” I answered, breaking out into a happy smile at Peter vacuuming the floor of our shared bedroom.

“Hihi sweetheart,” he greeted me affectionately, turning the vacuum off and standing it up by the door as a reminder to go back downstairs again. “Where do you want us?”

~xoXox~

I had spent the better part of an hour putting more black hair dye onto my handsome older husband’s graying scalp. I had elected to do so wearing my favorite pair of jeans and lacey underwear that gently skimmed my waistband, providing people with the briefest glance of green lace. I had thrown my wayside curls up on top of my head in a messy bun and wore no t-shirt, granting access to my beloved angel wings tattoos that crossed over my back. I stood in between Peter’s knees as I brushed dye onto his roots, with his tattooed fists gripping my hip and the back of my neck, creating a delightfully arousing sight, even with Mittens twirling herself around our ankles.

CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK

MEOW Mittens said, looking up at the two of us before erupting into a thunderous purrs.

PUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUR

“Good kitty,” I giggled, pulling away from Peter to scoop the motherly cat into my arms and turn back to face Millie as Peter began to wash his head in the shower, kneeling by the side of the tub to do so.

MEOW Mittens looked utterly pleased with herself for some reason or other as I smothered the sweet tempered cat with kisses.

CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK

MEOW Mittens rolled herself onto her back, resembling a tiny little baby being cradled in my arms. She gently bapped my chin, earning her a kiss on her pink nose from her human mommy. MEOW

With a chattering chitter, Primrose suddenly exploded into the bathroom, clearly having a massive case of skunkie zoomies.

“Oh, that’s right, you have a pet skunk!” Millie asked, shouting out with laughter as the family pet skunk leapt onto her foot with an excited chitter.

MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEOW yowled Mittens, not budging from being her human mommy’s source of concealment from Millie as she continued to take pictures.

CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK

Just then-

THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD

Millie stopped taking pictures and ducked out to investigate the sound of what could only be described as a herd of elephants wearing sunglasses thundering up and down the stairs again. I took the moment to set Mittens back down again before redressing myself back into my comfy bra and crop top as Peter folded up his wet locks into a towel turban.

“Let me guess- Daisy and Jack Sparrow are engaged in stair zoomies?” I called out in a teasing tone of voice as Millie came back into the bathroom, shaking her head in amused disbelief.

“You’d be correct,” she smiled, her camera hanging from a strap looped around her neck, narrowly avoiding stepping on Primrose as the skunk zoomed out of the bathroom to go join Daisy and Jack Sparrow with a thousand and one excited chatter.

“Welcome to yet another average day at the Ratajczyk house,” I droned, leaning my hip into Peter’s side. “Now that you’re here, you aren’t allowed to leave ever again.”

TAGLISTS ARE OPEN/ ASK BOX IS OPEN/ REQUESTS ARE OPEN/ PLOT BUNNIES ARE WELCOMED

If you liked this, then please consider buying me a coffee HERE It only costs $3!!!

PETER STEELE TAGLIST

@rock-a-noodle

@elianafilthyrose

@ch3rry-c01a

@rockstarslutt

@angelxfuckk

[fastcardotmp3]

.ficlets

[back to main masterlist]

I've written so many ficlets and blurbs etc for these little weirdos that I could never find again once I posted them, so here's all of (what I could find) in one place! (mostly for my own organization and sanity, but hey, you can use it too mwah!) full-length fic masterlist meta and analysis masterlist ao3

Platonic and/or Pre-Slash

the Munsons' Indy 500 tradition

Max & the Munson family

Uncle Eddie

Spider-Eddie AU

Music Industry Stobin meet Tour Journalist Eddie

He's been here before, he'll be here again

Nancy & Eddie pre-S3 meeting

"The Bear" AU

Nancy & Barb "When your best friend dies young..."

Nancy "Comphet" Wheeler goes to a gay bar

Nancy & Eddie & Barb

Jonathan & El sibling bonding

Robin's second coming out

TLOU inspired apocalypse AU

Truman Show inspired AU

Steve & Barb reunion

college radio AU

The West Wing AU

Conspiracy Theorist outsider POV

Steve & Nancy: Adventurers

Nancy & Mike: No More Secrets

Stobin on the run

Nancy & Eddie: Christmas at the cemetery

Liminal space: Robin, gas station on a long mountain road

Ronance

Ronance meets Immortality (part 2 here)

Ronance Letters AU

Kiki's Delivery Service AU

fool's gold

Good Omens AU

Generational listening

Horror Filmmaker!Nancy

Childhood Friends AU - Femslash Week 1

Getting together at the wrong time (and then the right time) - Femslash Week 2

Steddie

One-Hit Wonder Eddie

the beauty of a steddie slow burn

Steddie non-soulmate soulmate AU

post-S4 memory-wipe AU

Steddie New Years Eve traditions

beauty and tragedy

pre-S4 Steddie, but Eddie still dies

Gilmore Girls AU

Model!Steve

Graphic Novelist!Eddie

Russian Doll AU

here we go again (microfic challenge, July)

butter cake (microfic challenge, August)

wildfire (microfic challenge, September)

more for your money (microfic challenge, October)

rest stop (microfic challenge, November)

fluke (microfic challenge, December)

Guts

long haul trucker Eddie comes home

Dancer!Steve AU

Jargyle

Jargyle and the mortifying joy of Being Seen

Stonathan

How could you think, darlin', I'd scare so easily?

Wheelingham

Wheelingham S3 AU/ Chrissy candy striper AU

Chrissy Comes Back Wrong (1)

Chrissy Comes Back Wrong (2)

post-S2 AU

S4 AU Secret Relationship - Femslash Week 3

[moontearpensfic]

7

E | Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort

Tags: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Underage, Harry Potter Raises Tom Riddle, Flash Forwards, Time Travel Fix-It, Professor Harry Potter, Professor Tom Riddle, Kinda Redeemed Voldemort, Manipulative Tom Riddle, Possessive/Obsessive Behavior, Codependency, Soulmates, Harry Potter is a Horcrux, Dumbledore and Harry Have a Mr. Miyagi and Daniel-san Apprenticeship, Cottagecore

Word Count: 41,444

[8: A Miyagi Thing]

An older boy walks in, and… and Tom is hit with his magic. Magic, to Tom, is dark, earthy, the scales of snakes, silk of a spider's web, dust, the stretch of shadows, blood, dead things. He didn't feel that old man's. Didn't know he was like Tom. But this boy's, this… It's airy. Fluttery and golden, darting about him, taunting him. Challenging him to catch it, to break it, to show it that nothing can stay so perfect and precious.

Love and Death make a bet. Now Harry has seven years to make Tom Riddle experience selfless love.

Well, it won't be the first time he's given the odds a two-fingered salute.

[inu-mothership]

Inu-Mothership Spotlight Saturday Dec. 24, 2022: Tsubaki!

Hello everyone! We are @inu-mothership are back with our last fic rec list of the year. It’s been such fun bringing you ship and character rec lists, and we look forward to doing more of that in 2023!

This week, our members have voted, and we’re pleased to share that our character list this week will focus on Tsubaki! The dark miko: she’s vain, she’s power-hungry, and she’ll do whatever she can to keep both her beauty and her power intact!

Our list (featured below the cut!) is divided into two sections. First, we have a section dedicated to the most popular Tsubaki ship, which is Tsubaki and Kikyo! Then, we have a section dedicated to gen fics/fics where Tsubaki is not part of the primary pairing. We hope you enjoy this list, and we’ll see everyone in the new year! Thanks so much for your support, all! We really do appreciate it.

💜 The Mods

Tsubaki/Kikyo  

The Absence of (T; complete) by Aiffe (Ao3) Also InuKik and NarKik

With what will I love you, after my heart is gone?

All I Ever Wanted (T; ongoing) by @gayredheadbitch/MangaBitch (Ao3) Also many other ships; please check ships tagged for more!

Kagome was a powerful priestess whom protected the Shikon jewel, which resulted in the cost of her own life. Centuries later, her soul is reborn as Kikyo Himura. A senior student and medicinal healer living in modern day Tokyo Japan. A new mission and new love born.

Frost (T; complete) by Aiffe (Ao3) Also InuKik

The old tree is leafless in the forest, the old year is ending in the frost, the old wound, if stricken, is the sorest, the old hope is hardest to be lost.

The Spider’s Den of Iniquities (E; ongoing) by RaditzsThighBand (Ao3) Also Kikyo/Onigumo, NarKik, TsuNarKik; please heed the tags 

This is where all the discarded sex scenes from my Narkik fanfictions: Kikyo, Captured & The Bandit & The Lady go that didn't make it into the stories because the scenes were either too graphic, or simply unnecessary. This is just me having too much fun with my stories. Please mind the tags and read with caution, and remember that this is all fiction and some of it is non-consentual!

Gen fics/Non Tsubaki-ship stories

Coterie, Ch. 5 (Kikyō & Tsubaki; G; ongoing) by @elkonigin

An examination of relationships within Inuyasha.

The Deadliest Sin (InuKag with implied Tsubaki/Hojo; E; complete) by @fawn-eyed-girl and @hopidoodle

Socialite Kagome Higurashi has been murdered in her New York City apartment, and Detective Inuyasha Taisho has been assigned to be the lead in the case. As he investigates, he meets a strange assortment of friends and family, all of whom have a motive to kill her. But the most surprising thing of all is when he enters Kagome's apartment and sees her portrait hanging on the wall...

Because Inuyasha realizes that Kagome was his soulmate. And now she is dead.

But the more Inuyasha looks into the case, the more things are not what they seem...

Can Inuyasha solve the mystery in time?

Dissonance (Shiori/Souten; M; ongoing) by @witchygirl99

In a world on the brink of an all-out magical war, Shiori finds her salvation in a married couple who care for her far too quickly, and in a young female soldier who keeps climbing through windows to see her. Turns out, fate has something to do with it. Maybe even love, too.

Inuyasha Bingo Bonanza, Ch. 3: Refusing to Repeat the Past (M; complete) by @heynikkiyousofine

A collection of my one-shots for my bingo card.

Murky Magic (SessKag; M; complete) by @sereia1313

In which Sesshoumaru has a spell cast on him, with interesting results.

Onigumo House (InuKik, InuKag, MirSan; E; complete) by @splendentgoddess

“Are you interested in a once in a lifetime experience that's to die for?” Kagome read with some dramatic flair that had Souta laughing. “If you think you have what it takes to survive what goes bump in the night then come for a stay at Onigumo House.”

Paint Me a Picture (InuKag; E; complete) by @kalcia, @neutronstarchild, @ruddcatha

“Madame can see beyond what others can see.” Kagome looked at the golden paint the kindly old woman was offering, the paint that would complete the painting she had poured her soul into: Inuyasha. Her only respite from the life she was trapped in: a betrothal to one she does not love. But when she adds the final touches to her masterpiece, she finds that she must set her life on a new path, for herself, and for the soulmate that has waited for her to return to him for 400 years.

The Selection Process (SessKag; M; complete) by @sereia1313

Every century that Sesshoumaru isn't mated, the most powerful females compete for the position. However, it takes more than fighting to be the Lady of the West. It is a tedious affair, and one Sesshoumaru would rather avoid, but after being gifted with the services of a mysterious miko, he suddenly finds the events much more interesting.

Soul Deep Fear (InuKag; T; complete) by @neutronstarchild

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, and Tsubaki was going to make sure that the Inu no Taisho’s family would feel her wrath. When her engagement to Tōga was broken by her sister Izayoi’s being the man’s soulmate, Tsubaki curses the entire Inu no Taisho line so that they should never find happiness with their soulmates. And when Inuyasha touches the hand of a barista at his local coffee shop, igniting the soul bond, all he can feel is her fear. Will he be cursed to have his soulmates flee from him for eternity? Or will this one, unlike the last, overcome her fear?

Through the Night (MirSan/InuKag; M; ongoing) by @sapphirestarxx

Sango is a demon slayer in a world that is unaware of the existence of demons and evil spirits. When her best friend and priestess Kagome calls her and tells her she wants Sango to meet her new “boyfriend” she meets not only him but his best friend, Miroku. After a confrontation in an abandoned house, secrets are revealed and they all must work together to defeat a foe they know very little about. One that has been leaving behind strange runes and attacking those with spiritual powers, leaving them in mysterious comas. Along the way feelings start to develop between the two pairs.

Wrath: Kikyō’s Kill List (InuKik, NarKik; M; complete) by @neutronstarchild

Kanna (Brown Recluse), Kagura (Redback), Hakudoshi (Brazilian Wandering Spider), Tsubaki (Brown Widow), and finally, Naraku (Funnel Web). Those were the assassins who took everything from me—my family, his family, my fiancé and our daughter. But they made one cardinal mistake: they left me alive. So one by one, I will send them all to hell. I was never ‘Black Widow,’ I was always ‘Kikyō.’ They will all learn that lesson soon enough and they will all suffer my wrath.

This story is an adaptation of Kill Bill, with Kikyō as "the Bride." So be prepared for some fun and violent darkness.

[ao3feed-brucewayne]

Hello Soulmate.... Soulmate?!

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/J2bZXig by Firewing9007 “Be strong, young parker. We will always be with you,” the voices echoed again, and Peter lifted the gauntlet. He could hear people screaming at him to stop but it was like he was in a trance. He told Karen to lose the mask and he stared down the creature who had killed him along with half of the universe. “Yeah well, I am Spider-Man. And you won’t take another person I love away from me,” Peter said firmly. soulmate au if you dont like dont read. Words: 896, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Fandoms: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types, Batman - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, DCU Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Categories: F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi Characters: Peter Parker, Damian Wayne, Tim Drake, Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne, Kon-El | Conner Kent, Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, Clark Kent, Loki (Marvel), Martian Manhunter, Diana (Wonder Woman), Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Wanda Maximoff, Billy Batson, Wally West, Pietro Maximoff, Roy Harper, James "Bucky" Barnes, Bruce Banner, Barry Allen, Clint Barton, Oliver Queen, Hal Jordan (Green Lantern), Sam Wilson (Marvel), Stephen Strange, Caitlin Snow Relationships: Peter Parker/Damian Wayne, Tim Drake/Peter Parker, Peter Parker/Jason Todd, Dick Grayson/Peter Parker, Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne, Clark Kent/Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers/Bruce Wayne, Kon-El | Conner Kent/Peter Parker, Loki/Martian Manhunter, Diana (Wonder Woman)/Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Wanda Maximoff/Billy Batson, Wally West/Pietro Maximoff, Roy Harper/James "Bucky" Barnes, Bruce Banner/ Barry Allen, Clint Barton/Oliver Queen, Hal Jordan (Green Lantern)/Sam Wilson (Marvel), Stephan Strange/Caitlin Snow, Clark Kent/Tony Stark, Tony Stark/Bruce Wayne Additional Tags: Protective Batfamily (DCU), Overprotective Damian Wayne, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Polyamory, Crossover, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Spiderman goes to Gotham, Clueless Peter Parker, dimention hopping, Peter Parker is Overly Polite, Protective Avengers, if found please return to tony stark and or steve rogers, idk what i am doing, Peter Acts Like a Spider, Non canon compliant, Deaf Clint Barton, Dead Aunt May Parker (Marvel), Sentient Infinity Stones (Marvel), Other Additional Tags to Be Added read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/J2bZXig