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And my mind wants to control me

Summary:

Somehow, Fizzarolli always suspected he would develop pyrophobia, which was problematic when you lived in the literal Hell.

Notes:

The last part of this fic is a continuation of another: "Sip the Gossip", I recommend reading it for context!

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Growing up in a circus had some advantages. Thanks to the skills he gained there, he had won the attention of the Embodiment of Greed, Mammon himself. It also got him used to a couple of things. 

Like there was no way he would suddenly get a fear of heights if he spent most of his shows on a trapeze. Even if it wasn’t the main form of entertainment he delivered to the crowds before and after he became famous, it was something he particularly enjoyed performing. There was a bizarre thrill of being so high no one could touch him and basically flight to the other wooden stick. Acrobatics was a job perfect for his over-average agile impish body.

Then there was the art of clowns. He was always rather loquacious. And he was funny. In that case, it was a powerful duo. The pride of having people listen to him with bated breath for him to deliver the funny line. The makeup, the costumes, the tricks, the songs… He used to have such a clear, pure voice before damaging his vocal cords. And the fact he was actually better at it than Blitzo…

And then… Then there were pyrotechnics shows. Before the fire, it was completely fine. He didn’t enjoy tricks with it, but it had spectacular effects on the public, so he used to bite his tongue kinda of when he wanted to say no first to Buckzo and later to Mammon. Mammon was rather... strict when it came to doing shows. If he wanted fire, there would be fire. Who was Fizz to refuse the possibility of working for the Sin of Greed?

After the accident there was Ozzie. Well, after the accident and after becoming Mammon’s main protégé, there was Asmodeus. As the payment for the prosthetics, he wanted to get Fizz as a host at his club. Mammon, realising there wasn’t much he could do with him at that moment before the next pageant, agreed to modify their contract, so that he used the Robotic Fizzarollis and the real one would work in Lust for the time being. 

“So…” Asmodeus cleared his throat when they consulted Fizz’s new role at Ozzie’s. “Fizzarolli, whatever you may need for your performances, just name it to one of the managers,” he grinned at the imp, before taking a brief look at his notes and various documents on the desk. “Are there any types of shows you won’t be performing? The director in charge of the artists would like a blacklist.” 

“I can pull anything,” the jester assured him. “I’m a professional, Your Sinfulness,” he smiled smugly, wriggling his eyebrows suggestively. “With a body like this, especially.” He ran the fingers of his left hand along the robotic length of the right arm. “For which I’m grateful, of course,” he added, trying desperately to hide the patheticness in his voice.  

The Sin of Lust chortled, but gave him the paper anyway. “Think about it, please. Whatever is a turn-off for you, it can be rearranged. You’re a star. Mammon was praising you with so many fanciful adjectives that I thought, for a literal second, that he restored himself to the angelic side.”

Fizz failed to cease his laugh, doing it quite loudly instead. “I mean, Mammon is great, and all that stuff, but I thought that it’s kinda late for the retrieval of his divine ordainment.” 

“Oh, trust me, little guy, that fucker has never been a saint.”


He could’ve written fire. He should've done it. He was given an actual choice. For once. He… Somehow, he didn’t. And now he had to deal with the catwalk on literal fire. 

It wasn’t the same green, awful blaze that had taken away his body. He never noticed the fire was different for different sins. It was blue, instead. He gulped, doing his best to hide his trembling as he got to the middle of the stage to announce the next act. He got to stutter twice before it was suddenly put out by itself, barely leaving any clouds of smoke behind. 

Confused, he looked at the imp in charge of the effects on the stage who was waiting just behind the side curtain. She just shrugged, as puzzled as he. He managed to laugh it off as him being so slippery even the lust’s flames themselves couldn’t bear his gorgeousness. Afterwards, he smoothly got himself into Ozzie’s private longue to report the issue. 

“Um, sir, we think the flamethrowers have some sort of malfunction…” he sheepishly noted, still with much hesitation. “You saw it yourself, right?”

The sin just turned and looked at him with a muted hum. “I turned them off.” 

Thousands of thoughts ran through his mind as he examined the situation. Did he fuck up that badly? Would the sin take back his limbs? “Was… Something was wrong with them? We thought it added to the, um, vibezzz, you know, Your S-Sinfulness. W-was it too much? We just… It was kinda experimental, and, kinda we’re just… Yeah.” Fizzarolli over-gesticulated a little before calming down.

The sin’s answer was just a dismissing wave of his hand. “Nah, I just didn’t enjoy it.”

“Oh,” he gasped, feeling the squeezing of anxiety in his stomach. “I-I’ll work on it, Boss. I promise- I… We didn’t really talk it through with the team and it caught me off guard. It won’t happen again. Sir.”

Asmodeus let out a sigh, before returning to his full form with the same fire burning around all his heads. “Let me rephrase that: you didn’t enjoy it. Anyone could notice. It wasn’t the vibezzz as you put it. You should’ve said something earlier. Have someone find Verosika, she's getting late. And probably drunk.”


The first time he slept with Ozzie, he encountered a problem with falling asleep. A light-like problem.

The sin of Lust was long gone, his breath evened momentarily. Meanwhile, Fizzarolli laid on his chest, trying to ignore the feeling of dread as the fireish mane, even now in the darkness, was still glowing. It was more dimmed than normal, but a light nonetheless. 

Playing with Ozzie’s fur, Fizz observed the glow with hostility, slowly losing himself in his thoughts. A chuckle slapped him out of it, as he noticed the King of Lust was now wide awake. “Hi there, big guy” he purred, drowning his entire fist into his comforting, fluffy skin.  

“Hi yourself,” he whined, stretching while being mindful of a person laying on top of him. 

“You glow in the dark,” the imp muttered, running his robotic fingers through the mane. He couldn’t feel the real softness, so he tried to imagine the fluffiness instead. “That’s pretty cool. Looks like fire.” As the second phrase escaped his mouth, he was ready to bury himself in the pits of Hell and never get back to the surface.

The Embodiment of Lust only laughed at the remark, lifting his gargantuan hand to run it over Fizzie’s back, letting the entertainer relax more into him. Fizzarolli, now more at ease, got up a little on his stretchy arms to lean over him, feeling his tongue poking out of his mouth carelessly. “You look like a frog,” Asmodeus blurted out with straight faces, making the imp fall down in shock.


“And then, that idiot, was like ‘yeah Sodom and Gomorrah were kinda awesome’!” Bee snickered, trying to tell the rest of the story without laughing. “And I was like, 'Mammon, you silly darlin', that was Ozzie’s idea,' and he looked at me like I’d just punched him!” 

The gathering burst out a sea of clamorous giggles, Fizzarolli laughed too, but rather out of etiquette than actually amusement. 

The invitation to one of Beelzebub’s most significant parties was for Ozzie, but he gave it to Fizz instead, claiming he had more time than the sin and a little party would do him some good. Beelze, eager to meet him, didn’t leave his side the whole night. She was rather nice, he had to admit, a little different than he predicted. 

“Bee-babe, how about a little change of pace?” her boyfriend, Vortex, asked as if he sensed the abashment from the imp next to him. When Fizzarolli looked up, the hellhound winked at him and offered another beer. “I’m sure the special guest here knows now more than he ever wanted to,” he joked. 

“Ugh, fine,” she sulked, climbing off the pole to land next to them. “Say, Fizzie, how’re you doin’? Ya havin’ fun here?”

Fizzarolli nodded shyly, looking around the mansion. “It’s great, Bee.”

Her face puffed up, as she tipped herself back to get a better look at him from above. “Ozz, that ass, couldn’t even show up here himself,” she rolled her eyes. “Tell him I’m mad as fuck at him, ‘kay, Fizziepop?” 

The imp nodded once more, sipping slowly another bottle. “Will do.”

“You know how irritating he gets? We’ve known each other for millennia! Before even Eden existed! And he has the audacity to turn down my invitation! THIRTIETH TIME IN A ROW! ”

“Bee, hun, calm down-”

Before Fizz could even blink the Embodiment of Gluttony changed her appearance. “I AM CALM!” she snapped, squeezing the now-minuscular in comparison to her bottle before throwing it at the nearest wall. 

Fizzarolli felt shivers of nervousness absorb him when the bottle started to burn yellow flames. Short of breath, he began taking steps back, trying very hard not to stumble in the process. 

“Oopsy…” As soon as the demon form popped up, it vanished. “That was ugly. Sorry!” she laughed awkwardly, snapping her fingers to put out the blaze. “Everything’s peachy guys!” she called to the crowd. “Keep partyin’, bitches!” Then she turned to her boyfriend with a lower voice. “I think I need some fresh air. Yeah... Definitely. Fizzie, honey, you wanna- Where is he?”


Coming back from the slumber party at Blitzø’s first thing in the morning, Fizz yawned loudly, stretching his back with the help of his robotic arms. He hardly got any sleep as they spent most of the night on Earth running around. He had to admit, he missed that sense of wild freedom. Even if living in the Golden Cage was a luxury, at the end of the day it’s still a cage and he was aware of that. 

He hit the bedroom first, ready to slide into sheets to cuddle with Asmodeus as the Sin of Lust surely was still sleeping. He was taken aback as the bed was empty. Confused, the jester jogged to the kitchen, which was also without Ozzie. Now starting to worry he went to check the office. The last place he was sure he would find him. As he stepped closer to the big doors he heard loud voices on the other side. He was about to open those with Ram’s head when a booming voice made him flinch. 

He quickly got a hold of himself, recognising it as Asmodeus’s. He was laughing at something Beelze had said. Fixing his outfit, Fizz pulled at the handle, stepping inside without knocking. 

“That fucking clown would be playing a dice game for human souls in Gomorrah when Gabriel came to destroy it,” Ozzie snorted. 

“Yeah, he would, that moron,” Beelzebub chuckled, savouring a bottle of Beelzejuice. “You know, Sera once said… FIZZIE!” she suddenly called out, standing up to see the little imp at the entrance. “Heya, buddy!”

Asmodeus stood up as well, turning around to smile widely at his boyfriend. He put out his hand, encouraging Fizzarolli to join them, and the clown did, slowly making his way to the armchairs. As the sins sat once more, he seized the opportunity and bounced into Ozzie’s lap. 

“How was the sleepover, babe?” the Embodiment of Lust purred, when Fizz made himself comfortable, setting face towards the fireplace.

“Tiresome,” he groaned, squashing his face into the fluff. “Hi Bee,” he added, realising he didn’t even acknowledge her. 

A warm laugh was soothing for his ears, as Fizzarolli observed the smouldering fire. He didn’t really listen to them, exhausted from the adventures of the night before. Ozz only got his attention when he patted him with a single finger between his horns. “Want me to put it out, Fizzie Frog?” he whispered when Bee was blabbering in the background. 

“Nah,” he sighed, keeping his eyes half-closed. “It’s okay.” After everything with Blitzø, Striker, Mammon... Now he had a new mindset. A more promising one. And now, he thought the blue fire was the most beautiful thing he ever saw.

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