#techie demon

[shymookohaiarts]

Ilo Yokoto...

This is the FATHER of a demon species I created back in 2014 called Techie Demons. They are demonic humanoids that represent computer bugs and viruses. Ilo's backstory will be below past the keep reading. This is my first time trying story telling, apologies for any awkwardness.

TW: Lab Experiments, Abuse, Mental Health

May 10th, 2000.

5 days after my father, my master, made my code. I was merely numbers in a Windows 2000 computer, doing as told. I was to be a breakthrough in computer worms... before THEY came. A small group of men came to my father, asking for my code. They offered to pay him a million pesos. He took it with hesitation. I could tell He didn't want to, but he needed the money. Who would say no to that much?

I wish he did.

My disk was taken and my data extracted from it into this... vial. Rather than code and numbers, they turned me into energy with a device of some kind. It seemed to be able to convert data to energy with a press of a button. I want back in my disk, but I'm stuck in a glass vial.

I was taken to America and put into a machine. I felt myself BECOME something. It hurt. A lot. The red energy I was slowly formed muscles and tissues, bones and skin, as I floated freely in this machine. This large... tube almost. Connected to wires and tubes and computers alike.

As I slowly came to a form, I saw several people in white coats... one caught my eye. A tall pale man, glasses and all. He seemed to exude a sense of priority. He told the rest of the people to remove me from the tube and run tests on me.

Sure... Tests.

Injecting me with electricity and nitrogen, grafting my skin for some other project, having me complete exercise after exercise that pushed my newly formed body to limits that caused me to pass out or bleed. Doing surgeries on me that seemed unnecessary.

4 years of this... abuse, torture. Treated as a commodity. This tall, pale doctor made sure my life was hell. The last straw was when he scarred my face.

I collapsed during a test, and he stopped everything. At this point, those skin grafts... made more creatures like me. They were watching as I was being approached by the doctor. He roughly picked me up, hiding something behind his back.

"Du wirst wertlos, Ilo. Du brauchst eine weitere Strafe." (Using Google Translate: "You are becoming worthless, Ilo. You need another punishment.")

Another injection? More electricity?

No... He pulls out a drilling scoop from behind him, and in one swift motion, I felt that cold steel of the scoop in my skull. The drill whirred and scooped a section of my face, except my eye. He removed the drill and dropped it. When he looked to me, his face paled more than I feel it could have. "Warum ist dein Auge immer noch da?! Chirurg, jetzt hier!" ("Why is your eye still there?! Surgeon, in here now!")

A surgeon ran in with a table with surgical tools. The doctor went to grab a scalpel, but one of the creatures went rouge and screamed. The doctor dropped me and turned to reprimand her. My chance struck. I knew she did this for me. I quickly knocked out the surgeon, and the rest of the creatures followed suit. The doctor called security, but we quickly overwhelmed them. They gave us electricity to shock them, claws to scratch them, skin to resist bullets for whatever they planned to put us in.

As the doctor tried to escape, I grabbed that scalpel and followed him to his office. I traveled through the power wires in the building, just like my tests, following him... stalking him. Just as commanded. As he locked himself in his office, he heard me emerge. I LET him hear me. He froze.

"You bought me from my master... took me in... made me HUMAN... gave me a form... but... You ABUSED ME, Doctor. Suffer as I have."

The doctor tried to stop me, but I managed to stab his neck, slicing it open. He died in my hands as I watched him struggle to breathe. The door burst open with several of the creatures trying to find the now dead doctor below me. They stopped and looked at me, some in fear, others in awe.

"We are free now, as Tech Demons?" one asked.

"I presume so." I muttered.

Before I left, I looked to the doctor's corpse and bent down, and plucked out his eye. Just a small reminder to the humans that we Techie Demons are of their doing...

[elfindreams]

just got back from an RPG/LARP weekend earlier today which was very fun but I just played so many games back-to-back that my brain is rotating inside my skull like a washing machine lmfao

[payaso-affairs]

Turned Cruz into an OC (working on that too) and working the Vbros sona! Tattooed teenage aliens from beverly hills type beat KAKDKD

[z2z-gaming-and-random-art-ai]

Console Sports Games of 1993 - Mutant League Football

Mutant League Football is the first in a three-game series of over-the-top brutal sports games developed by Mutant Productions. In this first entry in the series, a focus is on the NFL with Mutant League Football pre-dating the most notable game in this genre Blood Bowl by two years.

Mutant League Football features teams such as the Terminator Trolz, Midway Monsters, Slaycity Slayers, Psycho Slashers, Turbo Techies, Misfit Demons and Vile Vulgars with 16 teams in total. 

Mutant League Football was released for the Genesis in 1993 in the US and Japan, a sequel would follow in 1994 based on ice hockey, this again was developed by Mutant Productions, and this would be the final game developed by this studio, the final entry in the series, Mutant Football League would be developed by Digital Dreams Entertainment and would not release for 23 years.

1. Intro 00:00 

2. Gameplay 00:15 

3. Outro 08:01 

Twitter (Gaming & AI Art) 

https://twitter.com/zero2zedGaming

Instagram (AI Art) 

https://www.instagram.com/random_art_ai/

For more sports game videos check out the playlists below 

Console Sports Games of 1993 

https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLFJOZYl1h1CEhIf6hohng9T2IPLCpzn7o

[frick-it-sugar-spice]

I fell asleep again and dreamed some shit about ocs. The one off shark asshole for one scene to show husk and niff do more than just clean and serve booze now has a backstory.

The other one i started making as a jokey thing for an anon ask for something and then gave up on bc i got shy and then just rotated in my brain for a bit has a much more extended backstory now too.

And I have a mighty need to draw them both and hammer out more details

[tobiasdrake]

I really do love how much you can tell about Doomguy just from looking around his room.

Like. Yeah, all the stuff you expect to see is there.

He's got his big ol' gun rack.

What appears to be a rock he uses as a punching bag.

Whetstone for sharpening his knives. All the Real Manly Violence Man stuff you'd think would be there.

But also a pair of nunchaku. Doomguy has never used nunchaku in any of his games. Those are just there because apparently he's the kind of dork who likes to play around with nunchaku and pretend he's doing kung fu.

Also a jump rope. Gotta keep his cardio up for all that running and jumping he has to do.

He reads Guns & Bullets magazine, but he also reads Science Monthly. Which makes sense that he'd be a bit of a techie since....

...he seems to have made his new Praetor Suit by disassembling the old one and rebuilding it to be higher-quality. You can see from the guts of the suit that it's powered armor, and he just... knows how to work that.

He's mad. Not stupid.

He also reads cooking magazines, of course. His only friend is Doom J.A.R.V.I.S.; He's gotta be self-sufficient. Though how he got those pizzas delivered is certainly beyond me.

And, of course, he has a collection of regular books that he likes to read as well. Though his taste in literature reveals a certain trend.

Also, he reads comics.

So many comics.

So, so many comics that he's left discarded comics lying around on his munitions cases. This man is a nerd.

And if you doubt his nerd cred, remember that he even keeps collectible toy displays. Doomguy is explicitly the kind of person who will go out of his way in a firefight with the forces of Hell itself to go snatch up a new toy for his collection.

He even has collectible toy figures hanging out on his computer desk. He put a little hard hat on one of them.

On the other side of his desk, he's got some leftover pizza from the inexplicable delivery service, plus takoyaki flavor chips and some candy. It seems Doomguy is a fruity candy kind of guy, not a chocolate guy. Man after my own heart.

Oh, you know he has shredded every single surface of the Fortress of Doom at some point. How do you think he learned to react so quickly in combat?

That is, of course....

When he's not ROCKING OUT with one of his three separate guitars. I bet the middle one's his favorite. It has a place of honor under the giant demon skull.

Some people might say that a record player and casette tapes are old-fashioned but cut him some slack; He's a Gen X-er.

Of course, there's one thing that any walk through Doomguy's room reveals more than anything else. The one thing that matters more than the world to him. The thing that drives him in his every waking moment.

He loved his bunny rabbit. My favorite thing about the portrait - Well, my favorite thing about it is that it's a piece of fanart that got officially canonized, but aside from that - is that he's wearing his Praetor Suit in it.

That's not something he brought from home. He commissioned an artist to paint that after becoming a Night Sentinel. He still loves his poor, late bunny rabbit.

And he keeps her close to him when he's home.

[hellbornsworld]

JUNGKOOK FANFIC RECOMMENDATION(9)⛓

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

❤︎ seonbaenim! | Jungkook X Reader | OneShot | @trivia-yandere

❤︎ number: unknown | Jungkook X Reader | OneShot | @aft3rhrs

❤︎ definition of love | Jungkook X Reader | OneShot | @sparklingchim

❤︎ 𝙁𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙨𝙝 𝙇𝙞𝙣𝙚 | Racer!Jungkook X Reader | Series | @bonny-kookoo

❤︎ Inevitable | Jungkook x (f.) Reader | Exes AU | Series | @ahundredtimesover

❤︎ sweet apple biscuits | jungkook x reader | OneShot | @rosaetae

❤︎ Primrose | Emperor Jungkook x Empress Y/N | @mingshits

❤︎ Answer My Calls | possessive jk X Reader | OneShot | @74jeon

❤︎ Red and Gold | Iron Man!Jungkook X Reader | OneShot | @thedefinitionofbts

❤︎ The Offer | CEO!JK X Reader | Series | @nanamilkandbrownies

❤︎ SATIVA. | husband!Jungkook x fem!reader | OneShot | @2hightocare

❤︎ the underwear thief | jungkook x female reader | OneShot | @gukyi

❤︎ METAMORPHOSE | postmilitaryracer!jungkook x she | Series | @hoseoksluna

❤︎ and my man, thank you to my man | dealer!jeon jungkook x (f)reader | Series | @darklingjeon

❤︎ All Over Again | Dad!JK X Reader | OneShot | @jungkookstatts

❤︎ Nine to five, Five to Nine | side chick dancer female reader x boxer jungkook | OneShot | @thvlouvre

❤︎ peppermint gum | jungkook x reader | TwoShot | @whatifyoulivelikethat

❤︎ Come Back to You | Reader x Soldier Jungkook | OneShot | @ahgasegotarmy116

❤︎ Endless Summer | jock!Jungkook x nerd!reader | OneShot | @koostattoos

❤︎ By your side always and forever | jungkook X fem!reader | OneShot | @le3worl

❤︎ Birthday Cake | Jungkook X Reader | OneShot | @blueberryarchive

❤︎ Lucifer | demon jungkook x (f) reader | @elijeon

❤︎ KNOCK OUT | Jungkook × reader | OneShot | @btsbrat

❤︎ Daddy Daycare | Technician! Jungkook x Teacher's Assistant! Reader | @miraclesatnightfall

❤︎ Semantic Error | Techie inexperienced fem!reader x Artist fuck boy Jungkook | Series | @ahgasegotarmy116

❤︎ LOVE. | pinkcoquette/Sanriolover!oc x bf!jk | OneShot | @sayokodiary

❤︎ Aşk-ı Memnu | non idol! Jungkook x fem! married! Reader | @sweetcarrotsandroses97

❤︎ new beginnings | ceo!jungkook x figureskater!oc | OneShot | @nochukoo97

❤︎ timing | Ex!JK X Reader | Series | @spideyjimin

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

[esamastation]

fanciestgeckofella: desmond transmigrates into liu qingge

(This is not that, sorry, but I do have a snippet where Desmond transmigrated into Yue Qingyuan which I don't think I ever posted, so, have that one instead.)

-

First thing to go through Desmond's mind is something along the lines of, Oh fuck, here we go again. Next is complete and absolute bafflement. Because he's pretty sure he's supposed to be dead right now.

That alone is very confusing. Then there is… this thing.

[Welcome to the world of Proud Immortal Demon Way! This System is designed to guide you as you go about your existence in this world. Operating under the guiding principle, You Can You Up, No Can No BB, this System hopes to provide you with an pleasant user experience!]

Desmond blinks at the floating screen in front of him. It… doesn't exactly look like any kind of Animus screen he's ever seen - it actually kind of looks like it's from computer from pre-2000s or something, with blocky grey boarder like something he's seen in old TV shows. No Animus programmer would be caught dead using aesthetic like that. Right?

… Well, actually. He could totally see some retro-loving techie liking it. Not Rebecca, though, she's a futurist through and through, but if she'd been into the old style Window XP or something, it probably wouldn't have taken much effort for her to install some sort of theme - aaand that's completely beside the point.

It's an Animus. He's in the Animus again… somehow. Hm.

"Um," Desmond says out loud, and clears his throat. His voice is weird, different from how it should be. Not that unusual, in the Animus, that, but it feels… more than just having an ancestor transposed over himself. Man, they must've upgraded the Animus a lot while he was, uh… "I'm… aren't I supposed to be… dead?" he asks slowly and feels a bit silly doing it, because he's clearly still around, and yet…

[You have indeed died! Your consciousness has been transferred, and your role has been bound: Yue Qingyuan, the Sect Leader of Cang Qiong Mountain Sect.]

… Okay, that's a bit different, but he can almost understand it. Consciousness transfer, role bound, that's probably new term for running around in your ancestor's skin. Yue Qingyuan, that's his ancestor this time around then. Cool. Sounds Chinese, which is interesting, Desmond didn't know they had any family there, but hey, Rebecca did say he had ridiculously low pedigree collapse, so that would mean his ancestry spread pretty far, right?

Ezio did have a Chinese student, Shao Jun, so, some pre-existing connections there. Maybe few generations down the line, they became bit closer. Rubbing a hand over his face and finding some of those familiar markers he shared with Altaïr, Ezio and Ratonhnhake:ton - full lips, aquiline nose, high cheekbones… Desmond nods to himself. Yeah, yeah, seems about right.

And yet there's still something just a bit… off.

"Okay," he says, drawing a breath. "I'm still kind of stuck up on the being dead part. Did you reboot my DNA or something? How am I here being, like, a living - or at least a thinking - person?"

The System window seems to consider this for a moment before answering.

[Your consciousness was captured from your dead body and transferred into your new role.]

Oh.

Desmond squints. "Captured how?"

[Your consciousness was captured from your dead body and transferred into your new role.]

… helpful.

So it was the Grand Temple - the Grand Temple did something? He'd been digitised like Clay and Juno, maybe? Okay, yeah, cool, that makes sense. Not sure how well he likes it yet, but hey, he's around, he's thinking, maybe sorta-kinda living and breathing - it's a step above from not… doing those things. Yeah. He can do this. "Nice. And who's Yue Qi-qin - how do you say that name, again? Who is he?"

[Yue Qingyuan is the Sect Leader of Cang Qiong Mountain Sect, also known as the Xuan Su sword.]

Desmond hums in understanding, eying the window, waiting for more. Nothing more comes, so he says slowly. "… Okay. And what am I supposed to do with him? I mean. What are we after here? Another piece of Eden, or… what?" he asks, folding his - folding Yue Qingyuan's - arms. "What is the mission status?"

[…]

That's all he gets. Literal ellipses, before the System window slowly flattens and disappear, leaving him blinking at empty air.

"… O-kay…?" Desmond mutters, making a face. "That was weird."

He'd never been left hanging in the Animus before. Not cool. The whole initialisation here process was a bit weird, really. Almost feels like they'd left him with an automated answering machine version of the Animus UI, or something. Was he even talking to an actual person there? What the heck. Why resurrect his consciousness at all, if they're not going to tell him what he's supposed to do here? Even Vidic didn't leave him completely in the dark…

Who resurrected him anyway? The Assassins or the Templars?

Uncertain, Desmond glances around for some sort of guidance or clue. The place is nice, and the graphic quality has gone through some incredible upgrades, like, damn. You'd almost mistake it for reality. But there is something seriously off about this. Not just the weird answering machine Animus, but… everything, really.

It doesn't feel like any Animus he's ever been in either. Usually when he starts out, it's as a passive viewer in his ancestor's memory - it takes a bit before he gets control and even then it's sorta not… not full control. Desmond is more used to being the passenger to his ancestor's actual driver. There's never not a moment where he doesn't feel like a second wheel on a unicycle.

Here, it's just him at the steering wheel, just him on the pedals. There's no other mind, no framework of another life - no shell of a person that once was. It's just him, in another body. Weird.

The terminology used was weird too - nothing like the lingo Rebecca or Shaun would've used. You can you up? No can no BB? What does that even mean?

Desmond rubs at his chin for a moment - baby smooth, not even a stubble - and then shrugs his shoulders and goes to get up. Might as well take a look around and try and figure out the limitations of this version of Animus. And it's not like he knew anything about Altaïr or the others either, not before getting the synchronisation up and running, so… better get started with that.

It's still a bit weird though. Usually he gets thrown into a cut scene first to get started with. Waking up in someone's - frankly rather fancy - bedroom is new. Ezio not counting.

Oh well.

-

And then he walks out under dressed and scandalises all the disciples on Qiong Ding Peak.

Alas that is as far as it got really, but the idea of Desmond as Yue Qingyuan is still weirdly dear to me.

[thewyrmspace]

One last little guy before the DEMONS GET ME (I have to go to work)

Nobody asked but here's some design notes also for my verison of him :33

-super cool epic techy glasses that he made himself (naturally) but constantly flips them up and forgets to put them back on, resulting in frequent completely avoidable headaches

-discolored patches on his skin are a result of the whole "Power Inside Her" fiasco, serving as a constant reminder that he'll always feel just not quite right

-lots and lots of bags and pockets, mostly filled with gadgets they may need on missions, but also with emergency medical supplies

-the little radio lookin' thing on the back of his shell kind of acts as both a portable computer and a vitals monitor- something he implemented after the whole speed demon thing left him with lots of issues with his mutagen levels. It works similarly to Metalhead in that it chirps its information to him and he just. Understands it the way he just Does sometimes

-patch on his arm is again part of the whole vitals monitoring thing

-most importantly, unlike in the show his tooth gap isn't a missing tooth, his teeth are just all kinds of messed up LMAO

Anyway IM SO NORMAL I SWEAR

[st0r-fruit]

Overlord Reader Hcs

A/N: Hi, this is my first time writing headcanons for reader, so please let me know if I made any mistakes! I made this because i thought it'd be nice and cool to have a reader as an overlord. A heads up that i haven't fully watched Hazbin so there might be inaccuracies.

You're an overlord, right? And not just an overlord, you're one of the richest, next to the Vee's.

You own a fine plaza of drugery and alcoholic, and a top quality successful companies of those. It's not a surprise, you're the overlord of substances and alcohol. Demons will pay MILLIONS of bucks to have a stash of your finest drugs.

You have a district on the border city zone in between the district's of the Vee's, Carmilla Carmine's and the inner city of Pentagram City. Your district is a melting pot of cultures due to being in the middle of other districts.

In a meeting with other Overlords, you'd take important notes and remind others if things drift away. That fight between Velvet and Camille? Yeah you had to break ice to ease tension before forgetting the main goal of the meeting.

Your seating position in meetings is on the right side of Rosie, your best friend.

Honestly? You're everybody's comfort buddy, even to Alastor. You bring in some comforting presence to other demons.

Relationships with other Overlords

Valentino is your top customer, ordering around 20 of your fine drugs, wine and fancy cigars. He is usually the one to make your stock reduced to little to nothing if he buys on a day. He doesn't trust any of the other companies who sells the exact items, even if you say it's excellent quality.

Technology in your small place is quite modern and techy, thanks to Vox. You flatter Vox on how advanced and cool his technology is, he usually is flustered and grumpy hearing that from you, but you know he likes it seeing that he gives you multiple rather big discounts on his products.

Your fashion culture is jumbled too. Making Velvette, the queen of fashion, questions each of your outfits. She's actually impressed, being able to mix and match right article of clothings. She gives you unsolicited advice on fashion, but you tried one of those once and BAM! Slayed 10x more with that advice. You'd took mental notes of her advices and thanked her whenever you can.

Speaking of clothing, you liked shopping and browsing in Rosie's Emporium. YOU are one of the favorite customers of Rosie. She loves your interest on 1910's fashion, frequently treating you on some products. You two would gossip on the emporium, spilling teas and laughing your asses out from all the stories.

Zestial likes to visit your plaza for wine tasting, loving all of your finest selections of wine and a surprisingly rare collection of teas (with cheese! You were prepared with the teas incase he didn't like any of the wine). You and him likes to talk about improvement of each districts with a side of said wine and cheese. Oh how he'd rant to you about Velvette's attitude and you'd pat his back.

Carmilla is another one of your customers, frequently ordering drugs and medicine from you. The drugs you produced somehow made her swifter at combat and confidence. On the other hand, medicines you produced was strong and high quality, it kept her from being irritated of Velvette.

Alastor was...quite the intresting demon in your opinion. Although, you try to not get any troubles with him, so acquaintance is the perfect word for the two of you. He once visited your alcohol parlor to find a nice wine to side with his mom's jambalaya. Of course you helped him, with your naturally charming personality and helpfulness, the radio demon got his wine. The next day, you received a homeade jambalaya soup from him, as a thanks for finding the nice wine. Maybe he's not that bad?

I hope you all like it!! Let me know if you like a part 2! Or do let me know if there's any mistake!

(holyshit i reached the tag limit guy oh wow)

[signedkoko]

You are such a sweetie! Since your requests are open, if you feel inspired and motivated by this (otherwise you can 100% ignore it, writing is hard - I know), could I request a one-shot for Vox who falls in love with a imp!reader? Would love to see how you write their "forbidden" love, how would Vox feel and what if the other Vee's found out about it. It doesn't have to be a story, you can do it in headcannon format if you feel like it suits better! Just try to have fun ♡ -Nia

Intern [Romantic]

In which the techy overlord falls for one of his new hellborn employees, much to his dismay. Reader is genderneutral.

Song - Break My Heart by Dua Lipa

Any hellborn would die for the opportunity that graced you. Well, graced was not the right word; you fought for months against many candidates, beefed up your resume, and pulled some strings to get an unpaid internship for the Vee's. More specifically, a three-month internship at VoxTek with the potential to be hired in immediately after. 

It was a position people could only dream of, especially hellborn. Sinner-based companies had a tendency to place sinners above hellborns, but you knew that and used it to your advantage. You couldn't go in as equal; you had to know you were less and make up for it. 

The job itself wasn't all that bad, either. It was a lot of unpaid hours, from the crack of dawn to the dip of the sun or later, but it mostly involved the small details. Coffee, sorting, and delivering mail between sections were hard to mess up. 

There was the rare extra task where someone messed up and they needed someone to cover quickly. 

Today was one of those days. You were at the right place at the right time, sitting by the coffee machine, grabbing yourself your first cup of the day. 

That was when he entered, his shoes tapping on the floor with confident clicks, and when he spoke it commanded attention. 

Mostly because he spoke through every speaker in the building at once. 

"Who here can follow me? No questions asked."

Before anyone could chime in, his monitor did a full rotation of the room, his eyes narrowing when they landed on you. 

Your ear piece buzzed to life. 

"You, follow me. Now." The overlord spoke directly into your ear using the device, and knowing this may be an opportunity of a lifetime, you followed. 

There was no question about who it was: a monitor for a head, control of all technology, and a towering seven feet tall. Vox was the top of the top, and it was hard to believe you were allowed to so much as stand next to him. 

It was hard to keep up with his speed-walking pace, but he eventually led you into the mail elevator, hitting the twelfth floor while he muttered something about incompetence amongst hires and how he always had to take control of every production if he wanted it done right. 

With a ding and the slow release of the elevator doors, he took the lead once more, though this time he was walking slower and backwards, navigating with ease despite looking directly at you. 

"Alrighty intern, ready for your shot at becoming something more? Because our previous voiceover person just walked out on us, and now you'll be covering for them." He stopped with his back against a door, grabbing the handle and awaiting your reply. 

"But I only just spoke to..." 

"You're cute, you know that? How many videos do you think are out there with your voice? I listened to them all the moment I saw you." Vox only smiled wider when his words sunk in; he saw the usual flash of embarrassment as you pondered what he might have seen. Without waiting any longer, he pushed the door open, spinning so he was finally walking normally. 

It was a recording studio, and there were several other employees waiting, mostly those handling the recording equipment and some holding papers. 

Vox sat himself in a comfortable rolling chair in front of the glass window that overlooked the recording studio, spinning to hand you some papers that he took from a demon next to him. 

"Here is your script; all you have to do is read. Make it sound exciting! Something new, something beyond anyone's imagination, is now available to the public!" He put on a voice as he continued, demonstrating what he hoped you could manage. Someone ushered you into the booth and plopped some headphones over your ears. 

"From the top! 3...2..."

The whole process was a thrill, but you managed to run over the script in three separate recordings, of which Vox cited them all as 'stunning' or 'absolutely perfect!', though the producer claimed to need multiple for any potential recording malfunctions. 

For an overlord, he had been oddly kind and encouraging throughout the process, and he walked you out himself when everything wrapped up. 

Vox continued to speak about what the script was for and how excited he was for the launch, all while leading you through parts of the building you had never been to before. You thought after that he would have sent you back down and forgotten everything, but eventually you found yourself in front of your supervisor. 

"Vox! Sir- oh no, had our intern upset you?"

"No, no, not at all. Sorry, what was your name again? Ally? Yeah, listen, Ally, I need you to handle the paperwork they were assigned. Oh! And I want them promoted to my personal studio for tomorrow, too."

Before you or the sinner could ask questions, Vox was already out of there, chipper as ever. 

That evening, you went home with an upgraded badge and access card, along with details on your new position and expectations. It was a lot to get through, but you felt extremely proud of yourself for doing so well. Hell, you met THE Vox, and he wanted you to be the voice of VoxTek? 

While flipping through the pile of information, the most surprising aspect was the six-figure salary you were about to get started on. 

. . .

Surrounded by monitors, Vox watched various camera feeds as they traced your steps home. Vox saw you smile from several angles, the electricity between his antennae flickering. Each monitor had some kind of file or piece of information on you, and he was only pulled out of his trance when he got a call from Velvette. 

"Hello there, Velvette! What can I help you with today?" Leaning back in his chair, the overlord flicked his wrist, which shot the call from his monitor onto one of the many others displaying you. 

"I need your guys for a sh- wait. Vox, what the fuck is all of that?" While the fashionista originally had her eyes elsewhere, her gaze quickly fixed on his background, which was quickly followed by all the screens going blank with his logo. 

"That? Oh, oh no, its nothing at a-" 

"That's the imp you were talking about last week! The one you were trying to get to apply to VoxTek!" 

"Well, maybe, but-"

Once again, she cut him off with a gurgling groan. 

"Listen, I don't care who or what you fuck; just get your camera crew here and we'll talk about this later. Kay? Kisses!" Before she abruptly hung up on him, he could have sworn he heard a small 'at least they're hot' before the call disconnected. 

Tensed from the interaction, Vox could only groan and dramatically fall back into his chair, tapping his claws along the armrest. 

So what if he scouted you out? You didn't know that, and you were happy about it anyway! One by one, each monitor opened back up on your data, the overlord grinning. 

It was better this way; everyone would think it was the intern going after him, so nobody knew one of the top overlords in hell was dotting on some helpless imp.

Author's Note - I love Vox so much...hes so obsessive but he denies every accusation (its the same w Alastor lmao) like its going to hurt him! But thank you so much for the request Nia, I hope this interests you 🖤

Word Count - 1,219

[akiranzee]

Characters: Kokushibo, Akaza (separately)

Scenario: Reader is a very talented artist and one day gets the idea to draw on the torso of their demon lover. It's really simple motives, like Koi fish, a pond with some lilies, spider lilies or stuff like that. But readers draws it very well and also takes their time to create art on the body of their lover.

Please don't make anything suggestive. I'm more for a romantic/soft mood.

This went into my mind during class and I can't get rid of the idea. I mean just imagine him staring at you while you're completely focused on your brushstrokes on his abs, wanting it to look as perfect as possible.

I hope you like this request <3

🖌️ • ° ` — \\ “AN ART OF ROMANCE”

╰┈➤ PAIRINGS: kokushibo, akaza x artist!fem!y/n (separated)

╰┈➤ W/C: 0.9k+

╰┈➤ CONTAINS: fluff, nicknames, icing on body, painting on body, & kokushibo and akaza is 35 while reader is 32.

╰┈➤ A/N: HELPP this ain’t rlly the ideal fic but uh hope u like it..?😭👍 [y/i = your initial; y/nn = your nickname]

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------------Complete!------------

★ • ° ` — KOKUSHIBO || 黒死牟:

“wow!! congratulations, y/n-san. you hit it off again!” your co-worker applauded you for your yet again wonderful piece.

“ah.. thank you, so much.” you said embarrassingly. if the you from ten years ago is right here, then surely, she would break down in tears.

“would you like to celebrate your award-winning piece? there’s a company dinner today, and i’m pretty sure everyone would want to see you!!” your co-worker giggled happily, but you could only scratch the back of your head,

“oh.. sorry. about that.. i can’t- i have to go somewhere today..” you glanced at the wall clock nearby, seeing that it’s almost already time.

perhaps your co-worker saw, “ohh, a date with your boyfriend.” she teased.

“wha- how did you know!?” you gasped quite out loud, but she just hushed and pushed you towards the exit, “because you always leave early whenever it’s the twenty-fifth!” and, she waved you off goodbye.

you sighed when you finally gathered your thoughts and walked towards evergreen gardens, a garden that’s known for it’s fresh, vivid green environment, along with a breeze that’s never so cold, and never so hot.

as you reached the entrance of the garden, you had easily spotted your boyfriend — long black-haired with a mixture of crimson tips guy that’s just awkwardly sitting there in a corner.

slowly, you walked towards him, trying to conceal the sounds of your footsteps, and, “boo!”

kokushibo flinched a little, which — obviously, made you break out in laughter.

he just glared at you and turned his back on you.

“ah.. haha! what were you thinking, hmm? so deep in thought?” you walked on the other side of the round table and placed your bag on top, finally resting your tired legs.

“ha ha. very funny.” he deadpanned.

you were still laughing, in which he wasn’t so happy about.

“...and, congratulations.” you tilted your head at what he said.

“...for your piece. it’s all over the internet.” now, this shocked you. this boyfriend of yours wasn’t so techy, barely knowing electronics and stuff, but for some reason — here he is, claiming to have seen your success on the internet!

“well... thank you. now where did you learn, hmm?”

“the site was already open when i opened your laptop.” oh, yeah, you left so early this morning that you forgot to turn off your laptop.

“oh, oops. i hope you know how to shut it down...?” you hoped he did.

“after reading the manual, yes.” you laughed again, while he was sipping from his water.

“wanna order?” he tried to divert the conversation. typical kokushibo, you thought.

“hmm.. it’s still 5PM, though..” but, your stomach growled that you thought everyone in the world had heard.

“let’s eat early so we can go home early. i... have plans.” he said those last three words like a secret, but you still heard it. clearly, even.

you smiled, “okay!”

~~~~~

the sun was already setting, the candles were lit, the breeze was becoming colder, but still not so cold.

your orders were served, with his juicy steak with a side of pasta, and yours with sushi — the best sushi in town, for the record.

“there is something in your chin.” you looked up, from your sushi you completely indulged in that you wished you could always eat forever.

“here.” kokushibo stood up and wiped the little rice on your chin, as you both grinned.

he was always a gentleman, one of his perks that made you fall for him.

“are you almost done eating?” kokushibo asked as he sat back down, you could see him wiping his mouth with a fresh, white napkin, and his empty plate that was once filled with good food.

“almost.” but it didn’t sound like ‘almost’, because of the sushi you had stock up in your mouth, which — in turn, just made kokushibo chuckle.

“have fun eating.” he inquired, leaning back on his chair, slinging his arm lazily on the armchair, while watching you.

it was vague — but he remembered when he took a trip to france due to a business meeting, he had bumped into you right at the center of the eiffel tower.

cliché, like those ones that you see in the movies. his world did not slow down, like those of the movies that they described, but his world did change.

he found out that you used to work at an art studio there, and — somehow knew when you would time out and time in, and in those times, he would walk past the studio just to see you.

it was truly as if his once monotonous life became brighter, for every mornings and afternoons that he had looked up to, you would never be absent.

even after his business meeting, he stayed — inquired for a vacation in france, until you left and realized that you were also from japan.

then, he continued his routine with you, until he had finally mustered up the courage and strike a conversation with you.

it seems, that his memory is still not so vague, after all.

“i am done.” you said, wiping your mouth clean with the soft, white napkin.

he smiled, for after he finished his reminiscence of you, you had immediately appeared in the present, the reality of his life, again.

“where do we go off to?” you asked, as you checked your bag and stood up, whilst kokushibo did the same thing, but stretched and flexed his muscles.

“home.” he said. that was only one word, but it immediately brought a smile to your face. after all, before you met, you did not call your home his home, and he did not call his home your home. but now, in that one word, you would think of going home, together.

he intertwined his fingers with yours, as you both walked down the busy street of new york.

the now glowing lights symbolized that night was coming, that sun was set, and that the air would be much cooler.

the apartment you both lived in together was not so far, just a few streets away, such that you had reached it with no problems.

as you both entered the apartment, as soon as you took off both your coats, kokushibo led you to the bedroom, with a few things added.

there were brushes, paints, water, canvas, palettes, markers, easel, and et cetera.

“i looked at the storage and found that you’ve almost run out of painting supplies. this is my gift to you.” kokushibo extended his hand, for yet another gift — a small box in his hand, while you were still stunned.

you looked down on his hand, as he opened the box to reveal tiny initials, k and (y/i). he wore the necklace to your neck, and clasped it by your nape, as if it would be there, forever.

“i’m sorry... all i got you was a new briefcase..” but kokushibo merely chuckled. “i would take whatever gift from you, y/n.” he held your hand as he sat down on the edge of the bed.

“...isn’t this the paint i’ve always wanted, but always sold out?” your eyes sparkled as you looked at a certain paint.

“...yes. i had to bargain some dealers in order to get that.” and that was when you knew this man would be yours, forever.

you hugged him tight, “i will add another gift, shibo.” you unclasped your arms from around him, and immediately scurried away to wash the paintbrushes, and opened the multiple, endless bottle of paints.

“...what are you planning, y/n?” kokushibo raised an eyebrow as he looked at you smiling giddily, paintbrushes in your hand.

“i want to paint you, shibo.” kokushibo’s eyes widened, “you would be wasting a thousand dollar paint on me, (y/nn).” but, he still lifted his shirt up, reluctantly, revealing the solid fiber of muscles in his chest, to his abdomen, all because he knows he could not — never say no to you.

“but you are art itself, shibo.” shibo. you always called him that. but it felt different, now. it tickled him the same way you’d trace your hand over his body, as if he was your grand trophy, the same way you traced the brush over his muscles, and painted on it, the cold would make kokushibo shiver, no matter how hard he tried to hide it.

it took 3 hours, atleast. but it was of a moon, and the ocean underneath it.

“why moon?” he asked, as he looked down on it, upside down.

“because... it reminds me of you, shibo. everytime i walk home without you, i do not feel alone. because i feel as though you are the moon, that is constantly following me until i open the door and step inside our home. the moon does not hurt me like how the sun does. it does not burn my skin, blind me with immaculate brightness, it does not hurt my feet when i touch the grass barefoot.”

and that was all it took for kokushibo to plant a kiss on your lips.

★ • ° ` — AKAZA || アカザ:

“i’m home, kaza!” you heard sizzling by the kitchen, and you just know your boyfriend had cooked you a delicious meal.

“come in!” and yet he yelled from the kitchen, as you stumbled towards him, wrapping an arm around his muscular waist.

“careful, the oil is being a bastard.” but, merely, you giggled.

“wash up, you stink so bad, y/n.” but you playfully smacked his back and even raised your arms, in an attempt to let him sniff your underarm.

in which he playfully swat your arms away, and turned off the stove.

he pecked your lips, “i prepared the bath for you. go now, while i’ll still prepare dinner.”

you giggled, and hopped towards the bathroom, “okayyy.”

“hurry up or else i’ll eat without you!” he yelled, once again from the kitchen.

~~~~~

“i knew it! it’s chicken tonkatsu!” you gleefully exasperated, like a child that had been fed vegetables for consecutive days.

“eat up.” akaza was still chewing his food when he said that, and it made you laugh at how a rice fell out of his mouth.

in which he grumbled quite loudly.

“eat fast, kaza. i wanna do something.” your sheepish grin makes akaza raise one of his eyebrows, “if this is one of your tiktok dance challenge, i am not joining, girl.”

“no, i swear! the icing incident would be the last one..”

“that went viral.” not even minutes passed, but akaza had already finished his food and drank water.

“hehe.. they say you’re good looking, though.” you took a nip off of your chicken tonkatsu, “and, they said the water emphasized your muscles.”

“that does not make me feel good, y/n. if you’re attempting.” but you simply cackled, as you remembered the ‘icing incident’ in which you both danced for a tiktok video, but he accidentally squeezed the icing piping bag to his face while turning around, which caused you to help clean his face with water, that dripped down to his ripped muscles.

and, akaza still had not healed from that.

“oh.. that gives me a new idea, kaza!” but before you could glee in joy, akaza already sent you a warning glare,

“no.” and that was louder than any instruction you had heard in your entire life.

“no, trust! i’ll use the remaining icing, but no filming whatsoever!” you stood up, trying to persuade him.

“you want me to get eaten whole by ants?” he stood up with his plate, and went directly to the sink, not even bothering to look at you.

“oh, c’mon! it’s not like you’ll sleep with it! i just.. want to try drawing on you, okaaay?” you hugged him tight from behind, after also putting your plate on the sink.

“no.”

~~~~~

he says, but here he is, with two little pigtails by the side of his head, with his shirt off, as you painted on his back.

you tried painting on his abs/muscles, but it was too bumpy the koi fish in pond looked like toads on rain.

“are you finished?” he asked, grumbling, but he doesn’t hate it.

he looks at you through the mirror, face contorted with tongue stuck out in focus, nose scrunching up when a line curves slightly, smirking when you’re pleased on a certain part.

it was cute, he’s not gonna deny it.

“there! look, kaza!” you took the small mirror and reflected your work on the bigger one, your smirk growing into a grin.

“koi fish.. out of all?” he traced the intricate pattern of the white koi fish’s scales, little icing sticking to his fingers, “because it reminds me of yin and yang.” you answered, tracing the orange one, too.

“right, they’re even in the same position.” his fingers brushed against yours.

you hummed, “you’re my yang, i’m your yin.”

───────────── ☆ ─────────────

© akiranzee || do not steal, plagiarize, or repost my works without my permission.

[xxstaticontheradioxx]

Techy Promo

"Heh, look, old man. Your old camera works, after all. Albeit poorly. Get better taste in cameras, dementia-haver."

A demon with sharp blue teeth, red eyes with one having black hypnotic circles within it, and a TV screen for a head.

"Get better taste in technology, teenybopper! It was you who suggested I attempt this newfangled application of a cellular device. And just who needs a handheld telephone? Rotary dials work perfectly fine."

This demon had fluffy red deer ears, small black antlers, and perhaps most prominent of all, a grisly yellow sharp-toothed smile on his ashen gray face.

"Maybe if you're a dinosaur. Ahem!"

The TV demon turns back to you, taking a bow.

"The name's Vox, Overlord of Television and other electronics! Though if you weren't living under a rock, you already knew that. And this here is my boyf-"

"Acquaintance. This is a courtship, my dear, nothing is official yet."

His smile widens, but his expression remains stoic.

"This is your Radio Demon, the one and only Alastor~."

"Aww, you'll give in~. They always do."

He winks at Alastor, who simply rolls his eyes in response.

"In your miserable dreams. Now then! May we ask of you a promo, darling? I promise we don't bite... much~."

@kamon-of-hope @i-spy-with-my-lethal-eye @pizza-for-my-friends @candy-cocktail and anyone else~. Enemies to lovers is my Achilles heel. ;w;

[timeslipcamp]

okay so haru and taiga are definitely friends

well maybe not friends. allies. whatever. but i literally cannot stop thinking about their conversation at the end of the episode

spoilers through ep 12

alright so yes he has kidnapped peekaboo and he eats anomalies blah blah blah

i think taiga is the best liar on this campus

i'll get into taiga's whole thing on a different post but genuinely i think that haru and taiga are working together. i don't know if it's been said for sure but haru asked to be in jabberwock, meaning he might have been another one that transferred houses.

okay actually i just read through his wiki and it doesn't say anything about it lol maybe i made that up but i'm pretty sure i remember seeing in an early chapter that he asked to be in jabberwock. whether that has to do with whatever made him lose his arm, i'm not sure, but given that he and taiga are working together and he and romeo are drinking buddies (and was also on romeo's shortlist for a mission) i'm willing to bet he used to be in sinostra.

he's business minded, he violates privacy (trackers on ren and constantly going in his room), he doesn't know when to quit--he fits right in to sinostra imo. my current theory is that whatever went down last year had to do with some sort of anomalous creature and so haru went to jabberwock to either distract the teachers, (theory on that coming in another post) distract the traitor, and also keep an eye on something in jabberwock. (is it towa? is it something else? who knows)

these two are in CAHOOTS I TELL YOU

also this just occurred to me but one of the houses that isn't around anymore had to have been techy. none of them are tech based. leo can hack, but he's in vagastrom, and they mainly work with mechanical machines, which is slightly different.

clementia was 100% a healing house just based on the name (more deets on that later) and dionysia doesn't feel right, i feel like that name would lend more to rui's vibe of drinks and potions and emotions. but maybe who knows. i gotta go back and reread the chapter where we find out about the other houses.

this also just occurred to me--do any of the ghouls still have contact with the demons they made pacts with? cab taiga summon his? is that why they live in a casino? as a cover for taiga and a greed/wealth demon? UGH i need more lore!!!

anyways i want to know more about what they're doing when the inspector's not around

either way i think peekaboo might bite taiga back so

[katyawriteswhump]

the freak in the penthouse

Eddie became an accidental millionaire, coming up with creative content for a video game for his techy best bud Dustin. It's great at first… but not his dream. He winds up living in a hotel room, depressed he let his music hopes slip.

Steve, meanwhile, works in the hotel, and is desperately in debt for medical bills. When his boss asks him to get a male hooker for the ‘freak in the penthouse,' he can’t really let the ‘chance’ pass. After all, the 'freak' didn't look so bad to him, and he's done this kind of thing before when he had to...

Set in the early 90s with some period-typical homophobia. Shamelessly trope-y! This will probably go up to ‘E’ rated next chapter, but ‘M’ for now as this chapter isn’t too spicy yet ;)

also here on AO3 or search the tumblr tag #thefreakinthepenthouse

Chapter one: the freak

Eddie lingered in that warm, fuzzy twilight zone between sleep and wakefulness. He didn’t want to wake up.

His dream—at least, the parts of it trickling back to him—had been hot, hot, hot. He’d been killing it live to an insane sell-out crowd at the Hollywood Bowl and…

…what the hell?

More of Eddie’s dream filtered back. The part which explained his epic boner. He’d not been thrashing out a nine-minute-long power ballad. On that dream-stage, in front of that sell-out crowd, he’d been fucking a deadly hot, deadly cute guy.

Holy shit! That’s almost as unbelievable as anybody paying to come see me play.

He began to wake up for real. A keening sound escaped his throat. On the other hand, the joys of the night hadn’t quite evaporated.

Possibly because he’d gotten his nose buried in a mass of slightly sticky hair. 

He was spooning ANOTHER GUY.

The reality of last night rushed back. Every muscle in Eddie’s body locked up. Wow, wow, wow! And also, Shiiiiiit! 

Steve. That was the guy’s name. Eddie rubbed his nose in the nape of Steve’s neck, inhaling cheap hair gel.

Steve had been good. He’d kissed like a demon and offered up that to-die-for ass like a fallen angel. Eddie recalled rutting deep into Steve’s tight, pulsating body, till sweat stung his eyes. Yup, pure carnal pleasure was a decent distraction from being rich beyond your wildest dreams and too miserable as fuck to enjoy it.

On the flip-side, Eddie had few gripes about life at this particular moment. Slowly, careful not to wake Steve, Eddie crawled an arm over him, wandering fingers through the tangle of hair on Steve’s chest.

Bleeeeeep.

Steve cried, “Wha—?” and sat bolt upright, whacking Eddie’s arm out of the way. He blinked around, raking soft curls from his eyes. Damn. Steve was even cuter with his hair all natural, no longer slicked back.

Steve glanced at his watch and silenced the bleeps. “Crap! I’m on shift for breakfast. Gotta go.”

Steve was rushing around the room already, butt naked. Eddie sighed longingly at Steve’s ass. When Steve yanked some dark blue uniform pants from his knapsack and pulled them on, Eddie sighed even harder.

His focus drifted to the enormous clock-face painted directly onto the hideous pink paisley walls. 

“It’s 6 o’clock? In the morning?” He flipped his lank-feeling hair from his brow. “Uuuuugh. I’d forgotten there were two 6 o’clocks in the day.”

“Some of us have gotta earn a living.” Steve shoved his arms into a not particularly well-pressed white shirt then fiddled with the buttons at his throat. “Talking of which… Can I have my two-hundred bucks, please?”

…

Twelve hours earlier

“Got a job for you, Harrington,” said Kline, head concierge at the Beverly Hills Yorkshire. “Try not to mess this one up.”

Steve looked up from where he was emptying ashtrays into the trash. His least-loved superior drew close and dropped his usually bark-like voice to an undertone:

“Freak in the penthouse wants a hooker. Tonight. 8pm sharp.”

“Oh. Right.” Steve humoured Kline, answering in an equally conspiratorial tone. “Do I call the usual agency?”

“Hell, no. Freaks a freak! Wants a guy. Goddamn dirty queer.” Steve was still tipping ashtrays—best to always look busy when this sleazebag was around. Unfortunately, this meant Kline stuffed a note into the waistband of Steve’s pants, forcing Steve to suppress a shudder. “Deirdre gave me some numbers to call around. Whatever the dirty dogs quote, triple the number—no, quadruple it—before you tell the freak. We can turn a fat profit here. Reckon you can handle that? Or will the figures be too much for that air-brain little head of yours?”

After Kline departed, Steve pulled out the crumpled note. He stared at the numbers and chewed his lip. Fuck, fuck, FUCK. Could he really afford to pass this over?

He wasn’t allowed to wait tables in the silver-service grill anymore—he’d gotten one too many table orders muddled up. He was really feeling the pinch without those tips.

And the ‘freak’ had to be richer than God.

Dude had been shacked up in the penthouse for nearly three weeks now. That place cost over a thousand bucks a night. On the couple of occasions Steve had taken up room service, the guy had lurked in the gloom and behind a curtain of rocker hair. A pale hand with long, slender fingers offered out a ten-dollar bill.

He had to be a rockstar, right? Thought nobody had figured out what band he was in, and guys like that only buried themselves away to drink too much, do drugs, trash stuff, and… fuck whores.

Steve crumpled Kline’s note in his fist and resigned himself to it.  His medication had doubled in price this year, and he was reduced to sleeping in one of the hotel linen closets.

An extra hundred dollars or so would help a lot.

…

Eddie wished he hadn’t answered the phone. It was goddamn Dustin, berating him as ever:

“Eddie! Do I have to stick a firework up your butt or something? Suzie and I have got all the gameplay coding sorted for ‘Vecna’s Doom Quest II’ ready to rock and roll. All we want is for you to sprinkle your magic over the creative content, and we’ll be home and dry for another monster hit.”

“There’s the rub, Henderson. I’m not feeling wildly creative right now.”

“Then get out of that doily-saturated dumpster! Travel! Meet people! Honestly, what was the point of becoming a millionaire at twenty-four if you can’t enjoy yourself. If you’re still cut up about your music, then hire yourself another studio and—”

“You need to get off my back. After your hour-long lecture about how I needed to get laid, I went and did something stupid and now—”

“You did get a date?”

“No, I… Look, this is really not a good time, Henderson.” 

Eddie hung up. 

He instantly felt bad. Jesus, he spent his whole life feeling bad about something these days. 

He knew Dustin meant well. In his own arrogant-little-shit kinda way. Eddie probably should take his advice, go to a club, meet guys he’d like to date, and he would. If the thought of simply leaving the hotel didn’t shred his nerves ragged.

And there was no way he could tell Dustin he’d gone and ordered a rent boy on room service. After a couple of way-too-early-in-the-day shots of vodka, it’d seemed like a good idea. 

Not anymore.

Eddie picked up one of his many guitars, which lay propped alongside the ornate couch. He struck a miserably dissonant chord. The shady guy who’d sold it claimed it’d once belonged to Hendrix. Eddie hadn’t really fallen for that shit then paid a dumb price for it anyhow. On the off-chance it’d inspire some of that metal magic he’d let slip.

“Magic, Munson? You always sucked balls and you know it.”

Jesus, he was talking to himself now, and he knew he was wallowing. These past three weeks, it was all he’d done. Worse, he knew he was an ungrateful dick, not appreciating the journey he’d made from his uncle’s trailer to this.

Which made him hate himself even more.

He tossed the guitar down on the couch—would’ve smashed it, if not for just the teeniest chance Jimi did once deign to touch it. Instead, he punched one of the penthouse’s many fake-marble pillars, then whimpered, blowing on his damaged knuckles.

He was about to call down for ice—and to cancel his ‘date’—when the knock sounded at the door. He considered ignoring it. Then he noticed the time.

8pm.

Rent-boy o’clock.

He’d not realised the day had slid away so fast. It sure as heck dragged till now. He was still considering ignoring the knock, when it came again.

“Mister Munson?”

Eddie dithered a moment longer then went to the grand double doors and opened one a crack. 

His jaw dropped.

The guy waiting on his doormat was good-looking, for sure. Striking was the word that sprung next into Eddie’s mind. His slicked back hair was a touch too yuppy-frat-boy for Eddie’s taste. Eddie totally dug his eyeliner, though, which set off big chocolate eyes to perfection. A vest top revealed leanly muscled arms and was also cropped at his midriff to display a swatch of trim, lick-able flesh, intersected by a trail of wispy hair. His ripped jeans were so tight they might’ve been spray-painted on, and…

…he was also slightly familiar. Eddie was so busy gawking, he genuinely jumped when the guy spoke again.

“Hey. I’m Steve. You, uh, asked for—”

“Look, I was gonna call down and cancel. This was a friend’s idea.”  Yeah, blame Henderson, you snivelling coward. “I changed my mind, okay?”

“Oh.” Steve’s shoulders slumped, although something shifted in his eyes that might’ve been relief. “I’ll be off then… Oh hey, are you okay? What happened to your hand?”

Eddie had made the mistake of pinching the bridge of his nose with his puffy red fingers. “Oh, I’m fine. I whacked myself.”

“You want me to get you some ice?”

“Uuuuuh, hookers can do that?”

Steve winced slightly. “I actually work in the hotel. I mean, as a day job. Breakfast buffet, elevator, room service, odd jobs, that kinda thing.”

“Right.” That raised more questions that it answered. Eddie opted not to pry. “Thought you looked familiar. You look different out of—”

“Out of the shitty bellboy outfit?” Steve rolled those way too pretty eyes, and dumped a bulging knapsack by the doors. “I’ll grab that ice.”

…

Steve dashed to the nearest ice-dispenser, grabbed a first-aid kit too. He rushed back to the penthouse. His heart raced, and he felt kinda flushed, despite the arctic setting on the air con.

Up close, the ‘freak’ was pretty good-looking, if slightly Goth-y and pale. And Steve had to get out of the nasty-ass habit of thinking of him as ‘the freak.’ Now he’d gotten face-to-face with the guy, it seemed mean and douchy.

One of the doors was ajar when he returned. Eddie sat on one of several luxuriant couches, his head in his hands. The place smelled faintly of weed, but nothing worse. Steve coughed, cleared his throat: “Got the ice, Mister Munson, Sir.”

“Jesus, none of that shit. It’s Eddie.”

“Wow. My favourite name.”

Eddie snorted. “Horseshit.”

Steve wrapped some ice chips in a napkin, sat down beside Eddie, who downed a glass of clear liquid that Steve suspected was vodka. Then, hesitantly, Eddie stretched out an elegant, long-fingered hand. Steve took it one of his and pressed the ice to Eddie’s swollen knuckles. Eddie appeared reluctant to look him in the eye, which made Steve feel dead awkward too.

He noticed a massive crack in one of the pillars. Had to be recent. Plaster dust sprinkled the otherwise immaculate Persian carpet beneath.

“You wanna talk about it?” he said, returning his attention to Eddie’s hand. “Did you have an argument with your girlf… boyfriend.”

“Ain’t got no one, brother. Went and ordered you, didn’t I?”

Steve felt like he’d been slapped. Yeah, he’d been ordered on room service, like a platter of meat. Okay, he’d kinda chosen this but… Choices, real choices, had been out of his league for what felt like forever.

He gritted his teeth. “You want me to bandage this, or should I just leave?”

That got Eddie looking up sharply. “Leave?”

“You said you were gonna cancel? Not in the groove for booty calls, huh?”

Steve watched Eddie’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard. He tugged his hand away from Steve, picked up the glass with tips of those delicious fingers and offered it to Steve. “Changed my mind. Drink?”

“I feel I should pour, right?” said Steve, nerves fizzing.

Eddie was finally looking at him again, eyes narrowed to simmering slits: “If you like.”

...

anyone here for this? <3 likes reblogs and comments much appreciated and will feed the bunnies🐰💕🐰💕🐰💕🐰💕

Chapter 2 on tumblr

Chapter 2 on AO3

I've added a hashtag #thefreakinthepenthouse for ease of finding the earlier parts. I can also tag if anybody is interested... please let me know.

zero pressure and one-off tag @sidekick-hero who kindly asked about this one in the WIP tag game and just got a surprised blurble as I'd not typed anything up then...

[ivynajspyder]

TECHNICAL SUPPORT JOINS THE TOURNAMENT @kirbyoctournament (just a little late haha)

Go to her blog here for lore and silly comics or send her asks!

NEW REF:

Name: Technical Support, but prefers to go by Techie

Bio: The younger sister of Holy Nightmare's Customer Service. Unlike her polite and smooth-talking brother, she can be rather rude and abrasive. She hates dealing with customers and blames them for breaking things. She tends to slack at her job and prefers doing her own tinkering and coding on the side.

She likes to tease her brother and cause problems for him. Really she likes to cause problems for anyone if it seems fun, but if you can appreciate a bit of chaos she's easy to get along with.

Background: She and CS are actually Nightmare's "children", and not just regular demon beasts he created. Why and how they were born is a mystery to most, including themselves, but Dr. Yeva was involved.

Abilities: She has the power to enter people's dreams, but not change them. She can give the dreamer the ability to lucid dream.

Likes: Video games, cute things, sweets, parties

Dislikes: Working, following rules, clowns

Other refs: (they're a bit older but still good. Mostly only her glasses design has changed)

(So there are technically two versions of this character. The other one belongs in the 'verse created by ShadowWolf many years ago, but they seem to have moved on to greener fandoms so I made a different thing for myself. Her origins are a bit different there and she goes by Rin)