On this, a totally normal day, please enjoy this short scene featuring demon Steve Harrington:
“They’re con artists,” Steve asserted, rolling his eyes. “They’re nothing I need to worry about.”
It wasn’t that Eddie thought Steve was wrong. He’d read a book about their involvement in that possession and murder case in Connecticut five years back. It had certainly read more like fiction to him.
It was just that demons tended towards overconfidence. Or at least Steve did. Maybe that was more of a jock thing than a demon thing.
“You’re bound to the mortal plain by a two-bit ring from a Crackerjack box,” Robin snarked. “Forgive me if I’m a little concerned.”
There was that, too.
“I’ll have you know that ring cost me fifty cents. It’s solid nickel,” Eddie joked. But he kind of agreed with Robin. The ring was a flimsy object, and entirely incongruous with Steve’s preppy look. Even if the couple weren’t practiced demon killers, the ring would be an obvious target.
“So that’s why my finger keeps turning green,” Steve mused. “Look, I can’t let this stand, but one of you can wear the ring until they’re gone, okay?”
-------
Which was how Edde found himself twisting his old ouroboros ring around his finger, sitting in a diner booth across from Robin. Stealthily watching the demon hunters eat their lunch. Waiting for Steve to arrive. The wait wasn’t long, but it was tense.
Steve ignored them when he walked in, only paying attention to the couple seated behind them. Robin leaned forward and stole some of Eddie’s french fries.
“I think we’re in trouble,” she whispered. She was only half joking. They weren’t supposed to be there; Steve didn’t want either of them associated with a demon. But Robin was not about to let Steve face even fake demon hunters completely alone. And - coward or not - neither was Eddie.
He shushed her, keeping an eye on Steve as he sat down at the hunters’ table.
“I read the contract you signed with Susan Mayfield. Book rights to her daughter's story for a flat fee? Seriously? My deals are more fair.” Steve was facing away from them, so Eddie had to imagine the smug expression on his face. The older couple looked confused.
“Your deals?” The man asked, like maybe he hadn’t put it together yet.
“I’m sitting here right in front of you and you still have no idea.” Steve shook his head. “And you call yourself demon hunters. I knew you were just con artists.”
Understanding dawn on the woman first.
“You’re the demon,” she said, fear in her voice. “The one who killed those kids.”
“I am a demon. But no, I haven’t killed any kids in Hawkins,” Steve corrected. “Those three dead kids, the Mayfield girl’s injuries, that really was a human. People can be evil all on their own, you know.”
“Why should we believe you?” the man asked. He didn’t appear as afraid as his wife, but Eddie was an expert on posturing. The guy was about thirty seconds away from shitting his pants.
“Believe, don’t believe. I don’t give a fuck. I’m not here to keep you from writing your little book and ripping off the American public with your absolutely true demon stories.” Eddie would bet good money Steve was rolling his eyes. “I’m here about this.”
Robin nearly turned around to see what Steve was holding even though she knew what it would be. Eddie kicked her ankle and she turned back.
“You see,” Steve went on, “I made a deal with the Mayfield girl’s brother. It means I owe her a certain amount of protection. So this contract you sweet-talked her mom into signing? We’re going to rework the terms. I’m thinking percent off the gross?”
-----------
Notes:
"that possession and murder case" refers to the Arne Johnson murder trial, where the defense tried to argue the killer had been possessed by a demon. The book was titled The Devil in Connecticut and published in 1983. It's also the inspiration for one of the Conjuring films.
Allegedly (and I'm not doing enough research to confirm it because this six hundred word story has enough notes already) the Warrens paid people flat fees for the rights to their stories and then made bank themselves off of books and films about the 'hauntings' and 'possessions.' Frankly, everything I've read about them makes them sound like unscrupulous con artists.
"two-bit ring from a cracker jack box" is a reference to a Firesign Theatre sketch (The Further Adventures of Nick Danger) released in 1969; Robin knows it from her parents.
Two-bit means cheap in general, but also two-bits refers to a quarter, so when Eddie says he paid fifty cents for the ring he's saying it cost twice as much as Robin implied (still pretty cheap)
I doubt Eddie knows for sure what alloy any of his rings are made of, but cheap jewelry often contains nickel, and nickel can turn your skin green.
"percent off the gross" is revenue percentage rather than a percentage of the profit, so Max can't be cheated out of money via creative accounting.
You guys remember that Demon!Steve and Angel!Tony thing I posted? How about some backstory. Also I have a secret backstory for angel pronouns but I feel like I'm gonna be smote if I say them so. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ There's a reason Steve uses it/its for Tony until told otherwise.
Also TW: lots of religious imagery.
--
The church was empty.
Steve blinked up at it slowly. The church hadn't been empty for... he didn't know how long. It had been his. He had... lived there? He'd... attended, he was certain. And he had... he had died there.
He was born there. It had never been empty in his memory. He had many years of memory, of hours of people sitting-standing-kneeling-weeping-praying. He noted the broken shards of glass where there used to be windows. The colors had once danced across the ground at his feet from the amount of candles inside. The large doors were broken, one hanging off its hinges while the other was lying on the stone steps. He wondered at what could have done this. The doors were heavy. It had taken two people to open and close just one of them.
Then he noticed an ethereal glow coming from inside. The church had always been lit by candles. He was no longer cautious like he had been as a child, coughing and coughing and gasping and coughing. He stepped inside.
Steve had seen angels before. Small things, with wingspans like birds. White-feathered, glowing silvery in the dark. Young. He'd enjoyed scaring them off, spitting fire and venom at them.
This angel could destroy him before he even turned to leave, he realized, the coal that had become his heart dropping to his stomach. Old, older than any he had seen, even the ones he saw walking with the much older demons back in the halls of Hell, discussing things he could never understand. And powerful, more powerful than the angels he saw come down and sing 'be not afraid.' This angel glowed the gold of the first angels, ones who twisted the stars into shape.
As Steve watched, the angel turned, face twisted into a cold mask of fury, eyes still glowing a faint blue. It was too late to run. He would be smote. But there was something... wondrous about it, he thought, eyes wide, trying to take everything in before the nothing he'd surely be wrought into. This church had been damned long before now. Steve hadn't even felt a tingle at his toes from any consecration. It had been desacralized long before he'd died on the altar. The angels he'd seen were only as powerful as the ground was holy. This angel hadn't been stopped by the fact that there was nothing holy here.
"An avenger," Steve whispered as the angel faced him, spread its wings wide and high, the span wide enough that its wings were forced to curl back in against the walls. It glared at him, but he only felt an odd sense of... calm. If he died at the hands of an angel who could wipe out a sinful church full of people with black hearts in an effort to cleanse its stain on the earth, he figured yeah, he could be at peace with that.
Steve felt cool hands cupping his cheeks, tipping his head back and forth. He heard excited babbling, frantic and dismayed, but he couldn't understand the words. He didn't... feel dead. His head was fucking throbbing, though, and he groaned, loudly, to try and get whoever was on top of him to stop moving it.
The voice said something, relief practically dripping from it, and Steve forced his eyes open, blinking against the pulse of pain it caused.
The angel was on top of him. As he focused on its face, he saw it smile, relieved like he'd expected, but also self-deprecating, in a way. "There you are," it said, hands cradling his face again. "I misjudged how strong you were. I'm sorry."
"...you think I was weaker?" Steve asked faintly, feeling a thrum of angry heat in his chest.
"I thought you were stronger. Older," it corrected thoughtfully. "I thought you could withstand the blast. I needed to get you out quickly. Another moment, and the holiness sweeping back through the church would have smote you instantly. Consecration is almost instantaneous when an angel is behind it."
"...you..." Steve blinked. "Saved me?"
The angel dipped its head, eyelashes sweeping down against its cheeks. "You weren't the one poisoning this place. I wasn't sent to smite you."
Steve blinked again. He didn't know what to say. He sort of didn't believe he actually still existed. He lifted his hands to put them over the angel's.
"Oh," the angel breathed, eyes flying open wide. It looked just as full of wonder as Steve had felt, seeing its power. "I didn't know demons were so warm."
It had forgotten, Steve realized. It didn't remember a demon's touch. He was suddenly filled with confidence he probably shouldn't have had. He chalked it up to the angel apparently caring about his existence enough to get him to safety instead of being smote as an unfortunate bystander. He lifted a hand to cup the angel's cheek instead, and the angel shuddered, breath puffing out against his wrist cool and fresh from its parted lips as it looked at him with half-lidded eyes.
"You can make it up to me," Steve told it. "Once my head stops throbbing."
The angel blinked at him, a slow up-and-down of the most beautiful lashes, Steve thought. "...How would you like me to make it up to you, imp?" it asked.
If it had been anyone--anything--else, Steve would be offended. But. He knew the angel was powerful. Old. He probably did look like a young imp to it. Steve licked his lips, allowing the angel to see a hint of just how long his tongue was, and the angel let out a startled giggle that sounded like church bells, eyes crinkling with amusement.
"I see why the word 'impudent' starts with 'imp,'" the angel answered coyly.
Steve didn't allow it to demure, instead rolling on top of it and wedging the angel's thighs open with his knees, even as his vision swam and his head throbbed. Its white robes fell around it in a way that Steve could only describe as indecent, and he thought it was only because this was an angel who could easily snap him in half, but it was allowing him the position of being on top of it. "Call me Steve," he offered. He didn't want to be called imp, to be reminded of their stations. He didn't think he could follow through if he kept being called that.
The angel hummed, thoughtful, then arched its back a little with a pleased hum. "I'll call you that," it decided, spreading its wings out over its head. "Older, stronger demons have run away with their tails between their legs. You deserve the respect, I think."
"Thanks," Steve couldn't help but deadpan.
The angel offered him a cheeky smile. "You can call me Tony, Steve."
"Tony," Steve repeated quietly, rolling it around in his mouth. "I like that. Yeah, I wouldn't mind panting that in your ear."
"Panting that in my ear?" Tony repeated, brows furrowing together, before its eyes went wide and Steve had the distinct joy of watching one of the most powerful angels alive blush from its face down to its chest, the redness visible through the thin cotton of its robes. "Oh!"
"Oh," Steve agreed, reaching up to grab Tony's wrists and pin them next to its head. The angel let him, and it stoked the heat in him higher, the pulsing pain behind his eyes now an annoyance he pushed aside rather than a debilitation. Belatedly, he figured he should ask, "You're not gonna smite me for this or anything, are you?"
"Far be it from me to smite you for your innate demonic urges," Tony drawled, smirking, and twitched its hand back and forth just to show him how easy it would be to break free of his grip. It batted its eyes at him. "I like a male form, but I can switch to a female one if you like. To make it up to you."
"This is just fine," Steve promised, and then added a careful, questioning, "Sir?"
"You don't have to call me sir, beloved," Tony purred, wings fluttering against the ground. "Just because I'm old, it doesn't mean I adhere to the social hierarchy." Then it blinked, surprised, before letting out another bell-toll giggle and added, "I don't hold to any of those pronoun conventions either. Call me as you see me."
"I'll call you mine," Steve offered, and Tony threw his head back, laughing with delight. Steve didn't know how to tell him he wasn't being cheeky. He suddenly and irrevocably wanted nothing but the angel beneath him.
He pushed it aside. Meeting angels as powerful as Tony was were a once-in-a-lifetime event, especially among demons as young as he. Instead, he leaned down, pressed his mouth to Tony's, shivering as the angel gasped cool and wet against it. He wondered if Tony's shiver was because of how hot he felt. Hoped it was.
The cry Tony let out as Steve ripped his robes from the top down to the bottom sounded like ecstasy already, and Steve wasted no time pressing against him from shoulder to hip just to hear Tony moan and flap his wings uselessly.
I’m looking for hcs or a fic series (?) abt a magical girl and her perv magical wand and her demon (?) bf Steve and their magical adventures. PLS I CANT FIND ITTT😫
Get Lucky Prompt: Saint
Steddie Bingo Prompt: Keep on Loving you
Hello everyone!!
Here's another prompt: "Saint" for the Get Lucky Card and one for the main Steddie Bingo prompt: "Keep on Loving You" from @steddiebingo.
Toward the end, there is italized text that are lyrics for the song from REO Speedwagon.
CW: Demon Steve Harrington, bullying, implied sex content (no smut though)
Summary: Steve can't take a breather from the shenanigans of his brats and where in the world is Eddie?! He really has to do everything himself, even with the recent "condition"?
Steve runs after Max, both carrying their nailed bats through the empty Hawkins High School hallway. With his free hand, Steve slams the gym doors open.
Before them is Dustin wrapping his arm around Lucas with Mike before them, snarling.
“Take it back! You trash, picking on your own size!”
Mike is being blocked from attacking a couple of letterman jacket wearing students by two other students wearing the Hellfire club shirts.
“Guard them while I have a little talk,” Steve whispers.
Max huffs, “Fine, go have the fun job, next time I’m having the violent talk.”
Steve nods, “Of course.”
Then loudly shouts, “Hey, you little green jacket fishes!”
The green letterman jacket wearing students turn. One brightens up.
“Harrington! Back to give some advice?” Steve takes a moment and realizes its Jason Carver.
Carver who always asked for tips from basketball and being popular. Back then, Steve only half-heartedly humored him. When Steve was kicked out of the basketball team, thanks Hargrove and rest in peace or whatever, Carver was also one of many who ignored him.
“These nerds are encroaching our territory and that freshman thinks he can play with more experienced players,” scoffs another letterman jacket student.
“Really?” Steve raises his eyebrow. The gym mostly silences when Steve twirls his nailed bat.
Although naturally he can hear angry whispers from his kids. He gives a slight nod at the resigned two older Hellfire members. Huh, where the third one could be?
“What about me? You think I am not good? Despite my lost position? Not what you said or more like beg, hoping for any tips to score a three pointer.”
Carver’s wide smile shrinks as a frown forms, “I never said you were bad, Harrington. It is a shame Hargrove left Hawkins and abandoned the basketball team. I know you have trained constantly, right McKinney.”
A silent member who is slightly away from Carver turns with a furrowed brow, “Of course, captain, but–”
“There you have it,” Carver puffs up his chest, cutting off his teammate, “I have been meaning to apologize for my atrocious attitude and I am grateful life does find a way for me to make amends.”
Steve hums, making another spin, the jacket wearing students follow the bat’s movements.
Carver on the other hand, stays put, giving Steve a wide smile.
Steve makes a couple of practice swings, air whistling through the nails.
“One of the good things of being away from school bullshit,” Steve makes a cutting swing before stopping in front of Carver’s face, “I've learned the beauty of picking your battles and being patient like a saint. Life out there is harsh and more unforgiving than within these walls.”
Casually, Steve places his bat on his shoulder, “Those shitheads are obnoxious, annoying, and love to lord over their genius. More often than not they get into the worst situations that can kill them.”
A large step forward has most of the letter jackets jump back.
Although this time Carver only leans back. Only one more push away for him to crack.
Steve sneers at his face, “But they are my kids, under my protection, be it to teach Sinclair basketball who has more talent than you whole unloyal, lazy, bullying who will peak in high school brats like you.”
Carver steps forward, only to freeze at the sudden swing of the nailed bat.
Said bat stops just a slight, tender touch on Carver’s cheek.
Steve leans forward to whisper sharply to Carver’s ear, “I have seen things . Things you will freeze and cry for a second before it will devour you .”
“Summoned a couple of demons?” Carver shakily scoffs.
Steve slowly puts down the nailed bat. He looks behind Carver before letting a dark smirk grow.
“I begged for a delivery from up high!” A voice booms.
The letterman jacket crew turn to see Eddie leaning against the outside doors of the gym.
Eddie stalks across the gym with the missing third Hellfire club member.
“Instead of a saint, I get a bat wielding demon who will stain his hands to protect those under him.”
By the time Steve leans away from Carver, Eddie wraps his arm around Steve’s shoulders.
“The only saintly thing I have is patience dealing with you and the brats,” Steve scoffs. He turns to what he now understands being the basketball team. Shame really. The team has potential.
“You’re still here?” Steve’s voice changed, echoing loudly in the gym.
Around him, shadows grow longer and the air stills.
Carver eyes Steve with suspicion, only to have a shiver go through his whole body. The second letterman jacket student grumbles something about someone walking over his grave.
McKinney’s shoulder drop, “Captain, I need to get home before curfew.”
Shaking his head, Carver nods, “Of course, we cannot be a player down if we can help it.”
With one last look, Carver and his team left.
Steve ignores the slow descent of Eddie’s hand to his back pocket.
When the doors slam shut, the stillness fades away.
“You come here often, sweetheart?”
“Just because I came upon my demon inheritance, doesn’t mean your little puns are appreciated especially when crazy ones like Carver,” Steve huffs.
Eddie laughs and whispers, “Yet you love it.”
In response, Steve pushes Eddie away lightly.
“So you now set the stage to spooky stuff.”
“I still don’t like being part of your experiments like that Dustin,” Lucas sighs.
Max whips her head between Lucas and Dustin, “You orchestrated this?!”
Mike groans, “Are you serious? I thought for sure Lucas lost his mind joining the bullies.”
“Actually I did want to join, but I did push Carver too far,” Lucas sheepishly smiles.
Steve growls and picks up Lucas and Dustin.
“Black smoke, possibility of fire powers…hopefully El can give some pointers…” Dustin mutters to himself, unfazed. Lucas just looks pitiful.
Steve lets out a long sigh and turns to Eddie, “You supposed to be watching them during school time.”
“I forgot something in the drama room,” Eddie shrugs. Then turns to the bickering younger teens and no longer in Steve’s strong grip.
“You could have been hurt or worse shut down the DnD club with that stunt!”
Everyone looks at him wide eyed. Except Steve and Max, who never had much care for the game.
When Eddie turns back to Steve with a leer, he blinks, “Uh, Stevie? Where’s your bat?”
The nailed bat is no longer in Steve’s grip. He shrugs, “Probably return with its owner, Robin.”
“I still think the truth serum was a super-human serum like Captain America.”
“I wonder what you would look like in an American banner, Steve, ” Eddie leers. Steve blushing, covering his mouth.
“Well time to go, don’t want to see mom and dad getting it on,” Max pushes the boys to move.
Jeff asks, “Who needs a ride?”
Everyone quickly follows him when the gym room’s temperature suddenly rises.
“Don’t melt the gym!” Lucas shouts as everyone run through the doors. He drags Dustin who returns, holding a thermometer.
“No! I need to know how high it would go!”
Once everyone left, Eddie nips Steve’s ear.
“Eddie, you still owe me that dinner,” Steve groans out, feeling hotter by the minute.
“Some steak and BBQ will be nice,” huffs Eddie.
Just as Eddie reaches into Steve’s pants, a crackle freezes them.
Inside the trash can lights up. They walk to it and see a small fire, thankfully shrinking.
Steve drops his head on Eddie’s shoulder, “I’m kind of scared of burning down your trailer if this happens when I get too heated up.”
Eddie snickers, as he rubs Steve’s back, “Take out then? A nice picnic at Lover’s Lake?”
“Only picnic?”
“Of course.”
Eddie’s metal rings rubbing his face, helping Steve to cool down.
Once cooled down enough, they made their way out of the high school. They made the walk to Eddie’s van since Steve’s car is still in the shop.
Just this once though, Eddie drives the van so carefully. Steve, exhausted, hums to himself through the drive-thru and awakens at the soft music playing in the van.
When Eddie tugs him to move, Steve fights to open his heavy lidded eyes. There was barely enough energy to lie down with Eddie at the back of the van.
“Sleep or eat first, my demonic boyfriend,” Eddie whispers.
Steve grumbles, but opens his mouth. He ignores Eddie’s snickers and focuses on biting the greasy burger.
One of these days, Steve will get the handle of his new powers and now fall asleep at each accidently use of them.
For now, he will just cuddle his boyfriend who still loves him despite the burdens he drops on Eddie.
“ —meant, every word I said ,” Eddie sings softly along the tape, “ When I said that I love you, I meant that I love you forever~”
His voice, overpowering Steve’s self-deprecation voice a word at a time, Steve listens as sleep overcomes him, “And I’m gonna keep on loving you ~”
Steve will finish the burger after a nice nap with a loving singing boyfriend.
The cold breeze didn’t bother the toasty warm couple in the van.
Damn ima cause a throwback but remember when Illusion had the Demon Steve on his side, ALONG with Spirit Guardian?
You ever think Illusion had to keep them separated from one another so they didn't try to kill each other every time they just *looked/breathed* in eachothers direction-?
Cus yea they were under the illusion but I don't think even that would stop technical life long enemies lol
Poor Guardian :')
LMAO THAT IS AMAZING TO THINK ABOUT
I welcome any ideas that make Illusion's life even sillier and harder for him.
This also implies that Guardian was only afraid of Demon Steve in canon because he was just shocked to see him again. Which means after that shock wears off, Guardian enters angry rival mode.
