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mattsobvimyfav · 18 days ago

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roommates (matthew sturniolo)

pt 18 -

I swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his question. My chest tightened as I tried to put my chaotic thoughts into words. “I don’t know, Matt,” I admitted, “I don’t want a label. Not right now. It’s too soon, and everything is too messy. I just… I want to live and have fun. I don’t want to be tied down to anything right now.”

His expression faltered, and he looked down at the floor, his shoulders slumping. The defeat in his posture stung, but I couldn’t lie to him.

After a long moment, Matt let out a deep breath and walked over to me. He dropped to his knees in front of the couch, resting his head on my knees. The sudden vulnerability in his actions caught me off guard.

“Okay,” he said quietly, his voice softer now. “If that’s what you want, I get it. But can we at least start over? Forget all the shit that’s happened between us. Pretend we’ve never met and start fresh. No history, just a clean slate.”

I stared down at him, my heart twisting. His forehead was pressed against my legs, and his hands rested lightly on my knees, like he was grounding himself in the moment. There was no anger in his tone now.

I reached out hesitantly, brushing a strand of his dark hair from his face. “You really think we can do that?” I asked softly.

He lifted his head slightly, his eyes locking onto mine. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “But I want to try. I’m tired of all this fighting, of all this back and forth. I just want to know who you are without all the baggage. I think you’d want that too. I know I'm a dick to you but Ill try if you do.”

His words hit me hard, and I nodded slowly. “Okay,” I whispered. “Let’s try.”

Later on that night, Matt emerged from the bathroom, his hair damp from washing his face and dressed in a simple pair of plaid pajama pants and a black t-shirt. He paused when he saw me already tucked under the covers, my legs curled up and my phone abandoned on the nightstand.

I glanced up at him, feeling oddly shy after the emotional rollercoaster of the night. “Hey,” I said softly, shifting a little to sit up against the headboard. “Before we go to sleep, can we… I don’t know, maybe watch some of your YouTube videos? On the TV?”

Matt’s eyebrows lifted slightly in surprise, but a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “You want to watch them? Again?” he teased lightly, moving toward his side of the room.

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t help the grin that crept across my face. “Yeah, I do. They’re funny, and it’s kind of cool seeing that side of you and your brothers.”

Matt nodded. “Alright, yeah. Let me grab the remote.” He picked it up from his desk and switched on the TV, pulling up their channel.

As the familiar intro music played, he climbed into his bed across from mine, propping himself up against the wall. He glanced over at me “Just so you know, I’ll deny this if you ever tell Nick or Chris I actually enjoy showing these to you.”

I laughed, settling into my pillow as I focused on the screen. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

We sat in comfortable silence as the video started, the room filled with the sound of the triplets’ banter. Every now and then, Matt would glance over to see if I was laughing, his own smile widening whenever he caught me giggling.

We watched them for about an hour before I fell asleep to the sound of Nick’s yelling. Matt shut the TV off before going to bed himself.

The next morning, I woke up to the soft sound of Matt shuffling around the dorm room. The sunlight streaming through the blinds made me squint as I stretched under the covers, my body still tired from everything that had happened the night before.

“Morning,” Matt said, glancing over at me from his desk where he was scrolling through his phone.

“Morning,” I mumbled, sitting up and running a hand through my hair. “What time is it?”

“Almost ten. I figured you needed the sleep, so I didn’t wake you,” he said with a small shrug. “Nick is coming later today, so we’ve got the morning to ourselves. You hungry?”

I nodded, rubbing my eyes. “Starving.”

Matt set his phone down and leaned back in his chair. “Wanna hit up that diner off campus? The one with the pancakes the size of your head?”

“You had me at pancakes, they’re the best.” I said with a grin, sliding out of bed.

“Waffles are better but whatever you say,” he teases.

After quickly getting dressed and throwing my hair into a messy bun, we headed out. The diner was bustling with students, but we managed to snag a booth near the window. Matt ordered waffles, while I went with the classic chocolate chip pancake stack.

After breakfast, we decided to walk around campus. The crisp fall air felt refreshing, and the leaves crunching beneath our feet made everything feel so serene. At one point, Matt stopped near a bench and pointed out a squirrel attempting to drag an oversized acorn up a tree.

“See? That’s me trying to carry the team during practice,” he joked, earning a laugh from me.

“Oh, please. You’ve got Chris for that,” I teased back, nudging him with my elbow.

We eventually made our way back to the dorm, where Nick and Chris were unloading a bunch of camera equipment into our room.

“Perfect timing,” Nick said, spotting us. “We’ve got a new video idea, and you two are helping.”

Matt groaned. “Do I even want to know what it is?”

Chris smirked. “It just a normal Q&A. But first we need to talk about what happened last night” He turned pointing at me

We walked out of my dorm and down to his.

Chris closed the door behind me and crossed his arms, standing a few feet away. “I don’t want to drag this out,” he said, breaking the silence. “I think we both know things got… messy.”

“Messy is putting it extremely fucking light,” I said, my voice tinged with bitterness.

He nodded, his lips pressing into a thin line. “Yeah, it got ugly. But I don’t want to keep holding onto it. You don’t deserve to be caught up in all this, and honestly, neither do I. I screwed up, you screwed up—we both did.”

I sighed, crossing my arms as I looked at him. “So what are you saying?”

“I’m saying let’s put it all in the past,” he said firmly. “No more talking about what happened, no more drama. We move.”

I studied him for a moment, trying to gauge how serious he was. There was a weight in his expression, but also a sense of relief.

“Can you actually do that?” I asked, tilting my head.

Chris gave a small, humorless laugh. “I’m trying, aren’t I? Look, I don’t want to keep feeling like this. It’s exhausting. And I know you don’t either.”

I exhaled, the tension in my shoulders easing. “Fine. Clean slate. But no more games, Chris. No more complications.”

“No more complications,” he agreed.

We stood there for a moment, an unspoken understanding passing between us.

“Well, we should get back,” I said, pushing off the desk.

“Yeah your right” He agreed as he opened the door holding it for me.

The boys prepared to film their YouTube video. Our dorm had been transformed into a mini studio—ring light glowing in the corner, the trusty camera perched on a tripod.

Nick sat on the couch, on his phone, while Matt tinkered with the camera. Chris stood by the window, cracking jokes to anyone who would listen.

“Alright, we’ve got everything set up. Nick, you’re not bailing early this time, so no excuses,” Matt said, adjusting the frame on the camera and glancing over at his brother.

“I wasn’t going to bail,” Nick replied, rolling his eyes. “It’s always me you guys blame.”

“Because it’s always you, dickhead” Chris said, grabbing a pillow and tossing it at Nick.

“Guys,” I interjected from my spot on Matt’s desk, “Focus.”

“She’s the only responsible one here.” Chris said with a grin.

“Responsible?” I teased.

“Alright, alright,” Matt interrupted, clapping his hands. “Let’s get this started before Chris decides to monologue again.”

The three of them plopped onto the couch, their banter filling the room as Matt hit record. “What’s up, everyone!” Chris started, leaning forward into the camera with his trademark grin. “We’re back with another video because you guys won’t leave us alone about doing a Q&A.”

“Seriously, the comments are getting aggressive,” Nick joked, making a mock-serious face.

Matt grabbed his phone and read the first question. “‘Which triplet would win in a fight?’”

“Oh, that’s easy,” Nick said, pointing to himself.

“Yeah, right,” Chris countered. “You’d trip over your own feet before the fight even started.”

“Excuse me, I did hockey in elementary school, thank you very much,” Nick shot back, earning laughs from everyone in the room.

The video carried on with its usual chaotic energy. They answered questions about their favorite childhood memories, and embarrassing moments.

Every now and then, the camera would pan to me for a “neutral party” opinion. “Y/N,” Matt said, pointing dramatically, “settle this: who’s the funniest?”

“Oh no,” I said, shaking my head with a grin. “I’m not getting involved in this one.” I started mouthing and pointing that is was Nick.

“Exactly,” Nick teased.

“Smart,” Chris said, leaning back and smirking. Not even noticing I said Nick “She knows it’s me, though.”

As they wrapped up the video, the energy in the room didn’t fade. Instead of packing up, the triplets decided to order pizza.

Nick leaned back on the couch, scrolling through TikTok while Chris flipped through the Q&A submissions they hadn’t gotten to. Matt moved the camera aside, turning to me with a rare relaxed smile. “So, what’d you think? You’ve been here for the filming. Did you like it?”

“Definitely,” I replied, laughing.

Nick glanced over at me with a sly grin. “Hey, Y/N, you wanna help me edit this? I could use a second opinion.”

I chuckled, shrugging. “Sure, why not? But if this crashes and burns, don’t blame me.”

Nick grabbed his laptop and plopped down on the couch, gesturing for me to join him. Chris and Matt were already halfway out the door, arguing about who knows what.

“Don’t take forever!” Nick yelled after them before turning back to me. “Okay, let’s make this somewhat coherent.”

We settled in, and Nick opened the editing software. The raw footage was hilariously unfiltered—Chris making ridiculous faces at the camera, Matt tripping over air while setting up, and Nick accidentally recording a full minute of his shoes.

“Wow, professionals,” I teased.

“You’d think we’d fucking have this down by now,” he replied, laughing. “But honestly, It’s like endearing stupidity.”

We sifted through the clips, trimming the dead air. Every now and then, Nick would pause a frame to make a sarcastic comment.

“Look at Matt’s face here,” he said, pointing to a still of Matt mid-sneeze. “Should we make this the thumbnail?”

I burst out laughing. “Absolutely. Nothing screams ‘must-watch content’ like that.”

As we worked, the conversation drifted. Nick started talking about his time at school, leaning back against the couch cushions as he clicked through the timeline.

“It’s weird sometimes,” he admitted, his tone a little more serious. “Like, having this YouTube thing is great, but it's weird.”

I tilted my head, watching him. “What do you mean?”

“We are growing.. And fast, a couple days ago we had fifty thousand and we are already at seventy thousand. People on tik tok post our clips and it's giving us mad clout. Literally 20 thousand people subscribed to us within a fucking day?” he said, shrugging. “I mean, I love doing it. It’s fun, and it’s ours, you know? But I don't know if it'll work out or if this is just our fifteen minutes you know?”

“That makes sense,” I said softly.

He glanced over at me, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I always make sense”

We kept editing, falling into an easy rhythm. Nick’s sharp sense of humor and relaxed demeanor made it fun, and before we knew it, the video was coming together.

By the time Chris and Matt returned with the pizza, Nick and I were laughing over a particularly absurd moment where Chris accidentally hit himself in the face.

“What’d we miss?” Matt asked, setting the boxes on the coffee table.

“Pure comedy gold,” Nick replied, smirking. “You’ll see soon enough.”

Chris raised an eyebrow. “I don’t trust that.”

“Trust me,” I said, grinning. “It’s perfect.”

As the smell of pizza filled the room, Nick saved the project.

After the video upload was set in motion, the energy in the room began to shift to that cozy, late-night vibe. Chris stretched dramatically, standing up from his spot on the couch.

“Alright, we’ve done enough hard work for one day,” he said, grinning. “Time for some Mario Kart to prove, once again, that I’m the reigning champion.”

Nick scoffed. “You’re only ‘reigning champion’ because Matt doesn’t know how to drift properly.”

Matt scoffed. “I do know how to drift. You just cheat.”

“Sure, kid,” Chris said, walking over to set up the Nintendo Switch. “Y/N, you’re playing. No excuses.”

I laughed, pulling the blanket tighter around me. “I’m pretty sure I’ve only played Mario Kart, like, twice in my life. Prepare to be disappointed.”

“That just means you’ll beat Matt,” Nick teased, earning himself a glare.

We all settled in, controllers in hand, the screen lighting up the room as the familiar Mario Kart music played. Chris picked Donkey Kong, Nick went with Yoshi, Matt picked Luigi, and I chose Princess Peach because her kart was pink, and I figured I might as well go all in.

The first race was chaos. I somehow ended up in first place for about five seconds before being hit with a red shell—courtesy of Chris, who couldn’t stop laughing about it.

“Welcome to Mario Kart, Y/N,” he said, smug.

By the second race, I’d started to get the hang of it. Nick kept trying to coach me, yelling advice like, “Use the mushroom now!” or “Don’t fall off Rainbow Road!” which, of course, I promptly did.

“See? This is why Rainbow Road is banned from tournaments,” I joked, earning a round of laughter.

After several rounds (and Chris smugly retaining his so-called championship), we called it a night for gaming.

“Alright, what now?” Nick asked, leaning back against the couch.

Chris shrugged. “We could watch another movie.”

After some debate, we decided to make ice cream sundaes instead. Chris pulled out a pint of cookie dough ice cream from the mini-fridge, while Matt went to the dining hall to get toppings like sprinkles and chocolate syrup.

Once we all had our sundaes, we returned to the couch, the conversation flowing easily. We talked about everything—funny childhood stories, embarrassing moments, and plans for the next few weeks.

“Okay, but seriously,” I said, between bites of ice cream. “Who decided that Rainbow Road was a good idea for beginners? That map is evil.”

Chris chuckled. “It builds character.”

“Or trauma,” Nick added, making us all laugh.

By the time we finally started winding down, it was nearly 2 a.m. Chris had fallen asleep sprawled across the floor, while Nick was half-asleep on the couch. Matt looked over at me.

“Told you tonight would be fun,” he said quietly.

I smiled back. “Yeah, it really was.”

I snuggled into my pillow and watched some tik tok on my phone before drifting off to sleep.

The next morning, the sun peeked through the blinds as we all stirred awake. The room smelled faintly of leftover pizza, and the energy was slow and lazy. Nick was the first to get up, stretching and groaning about his drive back.

“You guys better FaceTime me later,” he said, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “And, Matt, don’t be an idiot.”

Matt rolled his eyes. “I never am.”

Chris snorted. “Sure, you’re not.”

Nick pulled me into a quick hug before heading out. “Take care of these two,” he whispered jokingly. “They’re a lot.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got them under control,” I replied with a grin.

Once Nick was gone, the dorm felt a little quieter, though the buzz of the morning kept us moving. Chris left to go take a shower in his own dorm. That left Matt and me alone in our dorm.

Matt leaned against the wall, eyeing me thoughtfully. “So, uh, today’s a special day for the team.”

I raised an eyebrow. “What makes it special?”

“It’s ‘Bring a Girl to Practice’ day,” he said with a smirk.

I laughed. “That sounds ridiculous. What, like a ‘Take Your Daughter to Work’ thing?”

He shrugged. “Kind of, but it’s more fun. We get to mess around a bit, and honestly, some of the guys’ girlfriends are terrible skaters. It’s hilarious to watch.”

“And you’re telling me this because…?” I trailed off, eyeing him suspiciously.

“Because you’re actually good at skating,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “And, I don’t know, it might be fun to have you there. Plus, I need someone to prove that I’m not the worst skater on the ice.”

I tilted my head, pretending to think. “Hmm, tempting offer. So, I’m supposed to just show up and skate circles around all these girls?”

“Exactly,” he said, grinning now. “You’ll make me look good.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t hide the smile forming. “Alright, fine. But if you embarrass me, I’m walking off the ice.”

Matt chuckled. “Deal. Practice starts at 2. Be ready to go.”

The rest of the morning passed quickly as I got ready, excited but slightly nervous about what I’d gotten myself into. Skating was something I hadn’t done in a while, but I had a feeling it was going to be a fun afternoon.

As I zipped up my jacket, a sudden thought struck me like lightning. Charlie! Why hadn’t I thought of her before? She’d love something like this—and it’d be hilarious to get her on the ice.

Without a second thought, I darted out of the dorm and ran straight to Chris’s room, knocking frantically on his door.

Chris opened it, his hair wet, clearly just out of the shower. “Yo, what’s up??”

“I have a favor to ask,” I said, leaning against the doorframe to catch my breath.

His eyes narrowed in suspicion. “What kind of favor?”

“Bring Charlie as your girl to practice,” I blurted.

Chris stared at me for a moment. “You’re joking, right?”

“Nope,” I said with a grin. “It’ll be fun! She’s never been on the ice before, and you two will have a great time.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I was going to bring Katie.”

I crossed my arms, the grin slipping from my face. “Seriously, Chris? You’re still seeing her after everything?”

He groaned. “It’s not like that. She was just going to come for fun.”

“Well, now Charlie is coming for fun,” I said firmly.

Chris looked at me for a long moment before shaking his head with a small laugh. “Fine.”

“Perfect!” I said, already texting Charlie to get ready. “You won’t regret this, I promise.”

By 2 PM, Charlie and I were walking into the rink, both decked out in black leggings, cozy leg warmers, and fitted Lululemon zip-ups. Our outfits were sporty but cute, and we were feeling confident as we laced up our skates.

Matt was already on the ice, passing a puck back and forth with one of his teammates. When he saw me, he skated over, smirking. “Not bad. You clean up alright for practice.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” I teased.

“Really? Cause I remember differently?” he said, offering me his hand to help me onto the ice.

I scoffed and smacked his hand away from me, skating past him as he laughed.

Charlie wobbled a bit as Chris helped her onto the rink. “I’m going to die,” she whispered, clutching his arm.

Chris laughed, steadying her. “You’ll be fine. Just keep your knees bent a little.”

“Alright, Matt,” I said, turning to him as we skated toward the middle of the rink. “You’ve seen me skate. You trust me, right?”

Matt scoffed, skating a slow circle around me. “Nationally ranked or not, you still scare me.”

I smirked. “You’ll survive, promise. Plus, I’ve been dying to teach you something cool instead of just watching you skate in circles.”

“Alright, fine,” he said, finally stopping in front of me. “What’s the plan, sweetheart?”

“A lift,” I said, my grin widening.

His brows shot up, and he gave me a skeptical once-over. “A lift? Like, one of those Dirty Dancing-style moves?”

“Sort of. But skating.”

“Are you trying to kill me?”

“No,” I said, shaking my head with mock seriousness. “Trust me, if anyone can do the lift, it’s gonna be you.”

He groaned but relented. “Alright, fine. But if I drop you, it’s on you for thinking this was a good idea.”

“I won’t let you drop me,” I promised. “Now, come here.”

I skated closer and showed him how to position his hands—firmly around my waist while keeping his elbows slightly bent for control.

“I’m getting dejavú,” he laughs, and I can hear the smirk on his voice as his hands tighten around me.

I roll my eyes. “The key is to keep your core steady and your legs moving. I’ll do most of the balancing; you just have to lift me up and keep skating forward.”

Matt sighed, adjusting his grip. “If we end up in the hospital, you’re explaining this to the doctor.”

“You’ll be fine,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Ready? On three. One… two… three!”

With surprising ease, Matt lifted me off the ice, his hands steady as he held me up.

“Holy shit,” he muttered, glancing up at me. “You’re light as fuck, that was easy.”

“See?” I said, laughing. “You’re a natural.”

He started skating forward, his strides cautious but controlled. I balanced effortlessly, throwing my arms out for effect.

“Alright, showoff,” he said, smirking as he glided across the ice. “Don’t get too cocky up there.”

“Cocky? Me?” I teased.

As he set me back down gently, Charlie stumbled over with Chris trailing cautiously behind her. “Seriously? You guys are doing figure skating routines now?”

“Jealous?” I shot back, adjusting my leggings.

“Please,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I can barely stay upright. I’ll stick with Chris.”

Chris smirked at me. “He didn’t drop you, huh? Impressive, Matt. You might have a future in this.”

Matt grinned. “Told you I’ve got skills.”

I laughed, nudging him playfully. “Alright, Matthew. Let’s see if you can do it again without turning us into a video on barstool.”

By the time practice ended, we were all laughing and out of breath, and Matt had officially mastered the lift.

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#matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #nicolas sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturiolo fanfic #matt stuniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo #roommates

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magicdreemurr17 · 11 months ago

Text

3rd Anniversary

"Along This Trail"

-------------------------------------------------------

“You’ve been quite the little busy body, haven’t you?” Magic growled.

The child’s malicious smile turned into a tormenting smirk. They had taken the lives of everyone and everything living in the underground, multiple times, so it shouldn't have been so surprising that they weren't faced by her aggression. Doing this, they'd already been through hell and back, so Magic's frustration was much tamer by comparison.

“What? Did you think I’d feel any remorse for those idiots?” an unfamiliar voice spoke out of Frisk’s mouth. That was… strange. That voice sounded nothing like Frisk’s sweet and mellow voice.

“W-Who are you?! You aren’t Frisk!” Magic stammered, taken aback from the shock of there being someone else pulling the strings.

The child began to cackle maniacally, these odd, black tears streaming from their crimson eyes, “You STILL haven’t figured out my true identity? I think you’ve been spending so much time gawking at that sorry excuse of a robot that it rotted away your brain.”

Magic clenched her fist, her blood boiling from the hate she felt, “Listen to me now, kid. You can say whatever you want about me. Frisk or not, I don't care what you think anymore… but don't you dare insult Mettaton!”

They never even tried to get to know him personally, so what gave them the right to attack his character? The way she saw it, this entity would stab first and ask questions later. Perhaps whoever was using Frisk’s body and allowing no remorse or regret from Frisk’s portion of their intertwined soul to come through so they could maintain control.

“Who do you even think you are?! You never bothered to even learn about any of the monsters..-”

“WRONG!!! I know everything about each and every single one of them! Especially that traitorous scum of a goat prince, Asriel!” The child yelled in pure hatred.

Magic gasped as her eyes became wider than ever. She knew that name all too well. Asriel was the prince of all monsters, son of Toriel and Asgore Dreemurr, the queen and king. There were several timelines where she and Frisk discovered, at the end of their journey, that Flowey was Asriel. It was strange that this child brought up the deceased prince, almost like they knew him before he became Flowey, as if they were… best friends. There was only one person Magic heard about in the underground who fit that description.

“C-Chara..? The first human to fall… but that was years ago! There’s no way you survived your illness!” Magic snarled in anger, showing only slight surprise.

“Ah, but you forget that I had a small chance of turning into a lingering spirit.” Chara replied with a smirk pasted across their features, “I’m just getting my revenge on those pathetic monsters.”

“What would you even want revenge for?! They never did anything to hurt y..-”

“THEY DID EVERYTHING TO HURT ME!!! Asriel betrayed me and broke a promise he made to me. That sweet, innocent monster that was my best friend, he said he trusted me, that he would never argue or judge my opinion. When it all really mattered, however, he betrayed me, like he didn’t even care!” Chara monologued in anger and sadness.

“Still! How can you blame all the monsters that were alive today for a mishap that occurred years ago? Can’t you see it’s not fair to the..-” Magic’s sentence was cut off as Chara lodged the Toy Knife they had kept with them since the ruins right through the older human, stabbing clean through her chest. Blood splattered from the open wound as Magic fell to her knees.

No...

Not like this…

…

“Aghh..!” she cleared the draft in outrage, “Why is it so much harder to write about something you lived through while also making it sound interesting!?”

“Relax… you've been staring at that screen for the past four hours, procrastinating.” Magic took a sip of her bubble tea, one hand resting comfortably in the pocket of her MTT-brand hoodie, “You're gonna wear yourself out if you keep doing that. Why don't you take a break? Mettaton's fired up the disco room alongside his Dancetale counterpart. You like to dance, don't you?”

“I can't just relax right now. I've gotta get this done so I know what to build off of for the next chapter.” Pacifist replied.

“I know, I know… but I feel like you're taking this a little too seriously. Yeah, you might've lived through it, but I feel like you're exaggerating this story just for the publicity.” the human raised an eyebrow at her as she took another sip, “You sure Mettaton and Undyne weren't a bad influence on you..?”

“That's not the point..! It's not like I'm retelling our story just for my readers..! I… have some personal motivations behind it too.” Pacifist leapt in her defense, only earning an eyeroll from her lookalike.

“Uh huh, sure. Come with me a sec, yeah?”

Without warning, the girl in glasses snatched Pacifist's wrist and dragged her out of her room in the studios located in the Omega Timeline. The building itself was massive, hosting enough rooms for almost every person who's been to this place. CORE!Frisk really went above and beyond to make sure everyone felt at home, or at the very least welcomed, here. On the way to the cafeteria, they passed by a recording studio, where some members from XTale were getting ready to rehearse for a special movie that Ink!Sans wanted to put out for everyone to see. It took a lot to convince Mettaton to play his part, mostly because he'd been salty over the fact that he gets killed off in his debut episode… or at least, that's what he claimed, despite the implications of the script saying otherwise.

XGaster sensed them pass by and turned towards the door for a brief moment, exchanging tense glares with Pacifist. This didn't go unnoticed by Magic as she yanked on the anomaly's arm harder to get her attention.

“Will you just stop glaring at that mummy-man and keep moving?” she ordered impatiently.

“He doesn't have enough plasters on him if you ask me…” Pacifist grumbled.

“I heard that,” XGaster responded.

“Oh, good. You can listen… selectively.” she retorted, earning her an undignified snort from XChara and surprisingly Cross, who both earned an over-the-shoulder death glare from their universe's creator.

“Come on, Pacifist.” Magic walked around and literally pushed Pacifist out of the doorway so she couldn't exchange glares with the apathetic… skeleton..? Monster..? Honestly, they didn't know what to call him anymore. Ink!Magic insisted that he wasn't just a skeleton, yet they didn't want to find out what he actually was.

Moving into one of the recreational rooms, they noticed several kids from various AUs sitting around a table, coloring together. Among them were Underfell's Frisk, who had dragged their Asriel over with him, but seeing the now taller goat prince trying to sit comfortably in a kid's chair was just pure comedy. In the corner of the room, Fell Magic was watching them like a hawk with the Royal Guard captains by her side. Hiding behind her leg was her daughter, who sheepishly kept her distance from the other children (she was antisocial, there was no getting her to join the crowd). In another corner of the room, Outertale Magic was accompanied by her robot companion, trying to teach some of the AU children to understand sign language. She was planning on asking one of her alternatives to help her, but Outer!Mettaton insisted that he had to keep an eye on her. It probably didn't help that just a few moments ago, her Horrortale counterpart had triggered some… disturbing memories of his.

“Better watch out, robot. If you lose sight of her again, she might scream for help if she's in danger..- Oh wait, she tried, but nobody came.” she had said, a belligerent smirk on her face.

That instantly sent the poor robot into a “what-if” spiral, as not even CORE!Frisk could reassure him that they were safe in the Omega Timeline. Luckily, Horror!Magic didn't get away with it, as she was employed (against her will) to help the librarian organize their books. Unfortunately, she wasn't very good with her organization skills, so she got yelled at a lot for not putting things in the correct order. It got a laugh out of her Undyne though, who enjoyed watching her wallow in her frustration… even if it was at a distance where they couldn't get into one of their… “confrontations”.

A sudden voice snapped Pacifist out of her thought train, “Well, look who finally crawled out of her little cave… Finally remembered to touch some grass once in a while?”

The human anomaly looked over to find Fell Magic's eyes piercing through her soul. Behind that cold glare, she could faintly see hints of concern laced in her expression.

“Actually, I..-”

“No, Blackthorn, she did not remember to touch grass.” Magic interjected, “As a matter of fact, she was still staring at her screen, moping about our autobiography before I dragged her out of there myself.”

“Of course she did…” Fell Magic shook her head slowly, rolling her eyes, “Papyrus, Undyne, go upstairs and bar her door shut for the rest of the day.”

“Yes, ma'am!” the edgy skeleton quickly replied, rushing upstairs in an instant.

“Hey! Wait, don't do that! I haven't even gotten past the prologue yet!” Pacifist whined.

“Or eaten something half decent in almost three days! You can't keep gorging on snacks twice a day and call that a meal just because you're stressing out..!” Fell Magic growled, “I swear, if I wasn't restricted from it, I'd smack you upside the head for your stupidity, dumba..-” she looked down at her daughter, who had her head tilted in confusion as she gave her mother the large, timid but slightly curious eyes, “ergh, I mean… I'd lightly tap you on the back of the head for not taking care of yourself.”

Outer!Magic nodded her head slowly in agreement, affirming her alternative's concerns silently.

“The last time any of us saw you leave your room, it was because you and Genocide had a debate over plot elements.” Underfell's Frisk added.

“In my defense, he was arguing about how I should've changed my weapon from a sword to a lance since I favor polearms.” Pacifist crossed her arms and huffed in offense, “Every great story I know has a main character with a sword.”

“And most of those stories you know have the same, monotonous, god-slaying sword.” Fell Magic rolled her eyes again, earning a scowl from Pacifist.

Moving past the recreational room, Magic dragged her to the cafeteria and into the kitchen where Epic!Toriel was engaged in pleasant conversation with her XTale counterpart. Sitting at one of the tables in the main dining area were XTale and Epictale's Magics, the former being carefully monitored by her bodyguard and partner. It didn't take long until the two monster queens noticed they were no longer alone in the kitchen.

“Ah, good evening, children,” greeted Epic!Toriel.

“To what do we owe this pleasure..?” XToriel asked, checking them both for any cuts, scuffs or bruises, “You didn't get into any trouble, did you..?”

Pacifist shuddered in slight discomfort at how maternal XToriel was being, throwing up her hands quickly in defense, “No, no! Nothing like that..! We're just here because… well, Magic insisted that I eat something.”

“Hmm?”

“Well, I've been so preoccupied with writing that I kinda lost track of time.” she replied.

The room suddenly got much more tense, as both goat moms exchanged a… perfectly ordinary glance with absolutely no hidden message beneath them. Epic!Toriel's face darkened as the tension in the air grew thicker, making Pacifist feel incredibly small where she stood and Magic grateful that she wasn't the one under the goat monster's intense gaze.

“My child… when was the last time you ate..?” she asked, her voice flat and emotionless minus the inquiry.

“U-Umm, s-s-solid meals or snacks?” Pacifist laughed nervously, swallowing hard.

“Snacks are hardly a meal!” bellowed Epic!Toriel before covering her mouth in shock, “Ah, forgive me. I've been needing to raise my voice a lot as of late to a… certain, stubborn someone. We must correct this at once! Go on, out of the kitchen with you. We shall make you something more substantial to eat.”

“But..-” Pacifist got cut off as she was ushered out of the kitchen by XToriel, moseying on over to the table where Epic!Magic was chatting it up with XMagic.

The two noticed her presence quickly and smiled as she approached them. The XTale General immediately took a bow out of respect, but it made Pacifist physically uncomfortable.

“Lady Pacifist, allow me to pull a chair for you.” XMettaton implored.

“That's… That's not necessary, General. I can seat myself.” she replied.

“But surely you must be exhausted…”

“General, I was upstairs writing; that doesn't require much physical activity, last I checked.” she clarified.

“Yes, but it requires brain power, and that can only be draining for someone as fragile as yourself.”

Who's he calling fragile..? He's lost his limbs multiple times, including on set… accidentally, Pacifist thought.

“We from XTale know how that can be, I assure you. We wouldn't want someone as delicate as you getting any ludicrously absurd ideas that torments your health further or jeopardizes the ones you care about, now would we..?” he let out a nervous robotic chuckle, but Pacifist could tell he was attempting to side eye his princess over the shoulder without her noticing.

Unfortunately for him, XMagic's brow twitched slightly, catching the slight tilt of his head in her direction. Without warning, she snatched the tail-end of his cape and, with all her strength, flipped it right over his head, blinding him temporarily which caused him to flinch before spiraling into a panic.

“Gah! Milady, forgive me! Please! Please, I beg you! Fix this cursed thing!” he whined, “Darling, please..! I can't seeeee..!”

“Oops, so sorry, General… My delicate hands must've slipped for a moment.” she retorted, a touch of salt dripping in her tone, causing her Epic alternative to let out a hearty laugh in amusement.

Pacifist giggled slightly, “That's what irked you? Not him addressing me as ‘Lady Pacifist’?”

“He refers to your universe’s Magic as ‘Lady Magnolia’,” she took a sip of her tea, maintaining an air of decorum as she spoke just to taunt her robot companion, “I think you'll find I am not the jealous type. If anything, I should think it's a compliment.”

“Oh, I'm flattered, don't get me wrong…” Pacifist replied, “but I'm still not used to hearing it, y'know? I don't really like being treated as royalty..-”

XMettaton was quick to correct her, “With all due respect, you are the adopted child of the original Dreemurr family! There is no greater honor in all the Multiverse… That title alone should be celebrated, regardless of your origins.”

Pacifist scowled slightly, “You know if you were one of those overpowered skeleton characters that I begrudgingly know exist out there, I would not take those words very lightly… but you're one of Mettaton's alternatives, so you're lucky your cute looks force me to bite my tongue.”

Epic!Magic wiped a tear from her eye after recovering from her laughter, “I see now where Snowdrop got both sides to her personality.”

Pacifist paid her a confused glance, unsure of what she could possibly be referring to, but before Epic!Magic could answer that question, she stopped when a sudden chill went down her spine. It was so paralyzing, even she couldn't muster the guts to turn and look behind her.

“Is there a problem with our Magic's personality..?” a rough, feminine voice interjected, with Reapertale Undyne looming over, glaring down at Epic!Magic.

“Great to see your hearing in regards to her is still top-notch, Undyne…” the paranoid human responded with a nervous smile that screamed ‘help me’ as the goddess of war just stood there… menacingly.

“Hmph. Don't you dare speak her name in vain, mortal… Alternative or not, I don't care. If you dare soil her reputation as a goddess, I'll pull you aside and knock some sense into you, got it?” she threatened.

The sudden sound of heels clicking against the floor broke the tension in the room as a softer voice interrupted, “Honestly, Undyne… Are you ever going to leave me to fight my own battles..? The tension you are bringing to this room won't help Pacifist calm down… and you know it makes a majority of the refugees uncomfortable.”

“But she was..-”

“I heard her… but did you not hear what I've told you about controlling your temper? You can't always go on a warpath whenever you hear something you don't like.” the blonde-haired goddess replied, maintaining composure even in the presence of the enraged goddess.

Reaper!Undyne grumbled and crossed her arms, dropping the conversation but not without muttering incoherent words under her breath in frustration.

“Thanks for that, Snowdrop…” Epic!Magic replied, letting out a relieved sigh with an expression that made it seem like her soul had left and was just reentering her body.

The Reapertale variant of Magic snapped her fingers, forming a makeshift chair for herself out of vines and branches uprooting from the ground beneath the floor, taking a seat calmly while she sipped on a teacup she got from… gods know where.

“That was worse than anything Sans has come up with.” Reaper!Magic suddenly interrupted, looking over at Pacifist.

“Whuh..-? I didn't say anything.”

“Not you… per se...” she inquired.

What is that supposed to mean? thought Pacifist.

“Nevermind. So how is your… I mean, our story coming along?” Reaper!Magic asked, “Everyone around here seems to be waiting with baited breath, and yet you produce nothing. There's also been word that you've been tiring yourself faster than you can get a single chapter done… to the point of skipping meals.”

“I wouldn't go that far..! You make it sound like I'm doing it on purpose. I may be stressed because I can't find the right words to… well, write, but I'm not beating myself to a pulp over it.” the human anomaly replied.

“... You've become a perfectionist, haven't you..?” XMagic inquired.

“What..-?”

“Say what!? You mean that old geezer rubbed off on her?” Epic!Magic stood up so fast, she knocked her own chair down, “Where's his ugly mug!? I'll reintroduce him to my battle axe for corrupting Pacifist with his influence!”

XMagic glared at her alternative, her eyes going hollow briefly, “Amaryllis. Sit. Down.”

“Uhh… S-Sure thing, Hibiscus.” she replied nervously.

XMettaton shook his head from behind, looking upon the other royal Magic in disapproval, “Such rash behavior from a Royal Guard…”

“General, if I may be so bold, hypocrisy is no virtue to live by.” Reaper!Magic interjected, sipping her tea casually, “We've all seen how you and Cross behave in interaction, or do I need to remind you of a certain incident involving a popularity contest..?”

The monochrome robot general immediately shut his mouth, his mind blanking at the obvious callout. Yeah, there was no way out of that one… he and Cross have had many heated interactions with each other in the past, especially ones where the General lost his cool… namely that incident.

“Ahem.” XMagic cleared her throat to get their attention before continuing to scold her Epictale counterpart, “I can assure you XGaster did no such thing. For him to corrupt Pacifist would be among the tallest orders… next to him getting along with your AU's Gaster, of course…”

“I’m insulted that you even think I’d let him do that; I thought you knew me.” Pacifist responded in mock hurt before getting more serious, “I've been trying to make this story perfect, yeah… but I think I'm so worried about what others will think of it when I start to reveal where it goes, no matter how accurate it really is. I mean… in the eyes of some random monster or man on the internet, most of it sounds completely made up.”

“That's because you have a wild imagination and a tendency to exaggerate just for suspense. With you, anything can sound made up.” Reaper!Magic commented.

Pacifist laughed slightly, “I mean, if I'd been told about four years ago our time that I'd have seen this many alternate universes and met all of you guys, I probably would've said ‘you're making that up’. I would've believed someone who told me I was going to turn into some kind of supernatural animal that leaves a blue blur as it runs before I believed that.”

“... Again I say, a wild imagination.”

“What!? That's a real character in the fighting game that Asriel and I like to play!” Pacifist replied in offense.

“Super Smashing Fighters?” asked Epic!Magic.

The human anomaly facepalmed, holding her head in the palm of her hand as she rolled her eyes, “Who the heck invented that ripoff name anyways..?”

Reaper!Magic giggled slightly, “It is truly a joy seeing you get so passionate about what motivates you… though you needn't be such a perfectionist with what you love. That's the most important thing… just doing what you love for the sake of doing what you enjoy. Mistakes can and will happen… but it's okay. Just live and learn.”

“Easier said than done, but… I can give it my best shot.” Pacifist replied, smiling slightly, “Thanks for the pep talk, guys. I'm used to being the person who does that.”

“You've given pep talks to last us to Ink's twentieth birthday since XTale's arrival. We've heard enough.” Epic!Magic answered, making Pacifist somewhat confused.

“But… you know Ink!Magic doesn't age, right? I mean… Moonflower looks like she's nineteen, but she's older, and also doesn't age because… well, y'know.”

“Yeah, but she doesn't act her age and being reminded of that gives us, her creations, an excuse to baby her because HAVE YOU SEEN HER!? SHE DESERVES TO BE PROTECTED AT ALL COSTS!” Epic!Magic responded, slamming her fist against the table and knocking her and XMagic's drinks into the air, startling the monochrome woman a bit.

The General quickly stretched out his arms and swiped both glasses before they smashed against the floor, glaring at Epictale's oldest human angrily.

“You could've indirectly burned her highness like that!” he complained.

“Come on, she's fine. Live a little, General! You're so overprotective of her.” Epic!Magic waved her hand at him dismissively.

“FOR GOOD REASON!” screeched the robot.

Pacifist watched as the two royal guards started to bicker back and forth, with the XTale princess caught in the middle looking amused that what was once a mutual respect was completely shattered the moment that she met her Epictale alternative. It was little moments like these that made her truly adore the life she had now, even if it was still plagued with its stressful moments. It didn't matter whether the day was plagued by scorching sun nor freezing cold, there was always a journey ahead to look forward to; a new day to celebrate with the colorful characters she'd befriended.

“You know, guys..?” Pacifist spoke up, grabbing their attention briefly, “It's moments like these where I truly don't miss the old life I had. I never really had this kind of stuff back home… so thank you for that. May these peaceful days last… I look forward to the tomorrow with you.”

Her words made their hearts melt from their honesty. It was written on her face.

“That old conflict was not our adventure's end… merely a fresh start to see what else lies beyond the sky.”

…

“Please… S-Spare us….. g-give…. us….. m-mercy…….” the commoner fell to the ground, limp after the sword that had been lodged into their chest was removed.

The sword's wielder stared at the blood from behind their mask with a lifeless gaze. That was the last light that was to be snuffed out from this world… one of the outer realms from the world they came from. They stopped when they noticed their reflection in the blade's metallic sheen, dark as it were, as they flinched and lowered the sword, sheathing it with the last soul taken from this place.

“In the end, it didn't even matter…” they spoke softly, “your rulers tried to put up a fight and failed… your most valuable soldiers killed, and for what? A promise to a good future..? Promises are useless. Certainty is all that counts… if you want to defy fate, you must have the conviction and determination to grasp that certainty.”

They stopped and held up a heart-shaped locket in their free hand. In contrast to the black and dark purple armor they adorned, this locket was a bright gold, much like the luminescent parts of their old body… their weak, mortal body that was destroyed what felt like years ago. They weren't sure how much time had passed; only that it had been over five years. A stray tear formed in their eye, but immediately dried up when getting caught in the mask they wore to hide their face. They clenched the locket in their hand, causing it to crack slightly.

“There… Now, like me, it is broken.” they stated, “Hmm. It left behind an x-shaped crack… how intriguing.”

The sounds of footsteps approaching caught their attention as their fellow comrades joined them, overlooking the destruction, both donning a similar black armor… One lethal swordsman, and one skilled mage.

“It appears we could not retrieve the data belonging to the two queens.” said the mage, “Tch… and after we went through all this trouble.”

“... Destroy the ark containing every last bit of data for this world.” they ordered all of a sudden, causing the swordsman to widen his eyes in slight shock.

“Are you certain..? That data will be lost forever…” he reminded them.

“Not forever,” they retorted, “I can OVERLOAD its destruction. I have a copy of each of these worlds’ data saved to my personal bank, along with the code of every individual soul that belongs in these worlds… or have you forgotten..? Death doesn't exist to us.”

He turned away without another word, understanding his comrade's instructions now.

“The World of Two Titans… and the World of Blades shall cease to exist now… just as the worlds we attacked before them. All that leaves is… that world…”

The mage hesitantly spoke up, “Are you certain this is the path you'll take..?”

“I will not depart immediately… our contractor has... other plans for me.” they reached into their cape and pulled a suspicious-looking canister, one with a smell that reeked so bad, it could turn up even the least sensitive nose, “I'm afraid I will be detained for quite a while… At least until I'm finally able to manifest this blasted curse.”

“You call it a curse, just as he did…” the swordsman pointed out, frowning behind his mask, “Do you still miss him..?”

The first one was silent for a while, but then finally spoke, “I am the False Light… I hold no ties. I miss none and have no one to miss.”

“Nemesis…” The mage answered sympathetically.

The first character marched past their two allies, tormented by a single lingering thought that had pestered them since they slaughtered that last commoner.

Spare them? What kind of fool would do such a thing..? All enemies have to be eliminated… they're in my way. That's how you play the game. Simple as that.

-------------------------------------------------------

UPDATE: Hello everyone! Happy third anniversary to Undertale: Lost In The Echo! I know it's been a while since I've posted anything, and likely most of you have given up waiting on Chapter 11, but, well, I'm actually here to explain what happened. See, I was SUPPOSED to post Chapter 11 back in Summer, I wanna say around the end of June, early July... the problem came from the fact that I wanted to release a promo poster to go along with the start of the Waterfall Chapters, but the artist I recruited to assist me with that while I worked on the chapter got overwhelmed with other things and couldn't finish it.

That being said I did manage to get another friend to do the piece for me, and with Chapter 11 finished and ready to be posted, I ask that you please wait just a little longer and it'll be out by the end of the month at the very least, early March at most.

Oh, and for those wondering if this story is canon to the events of Lost In The Echo; no. This story is NOT CANON. This rush job was put together last minute after I realized today was the anniversary for Lost In The Echo and needed an excuse to put something out to appease my readers. I won't be uploading this story to Wattpad or AO3, so uh... I guess those people will have to just be patient?

Again, sorry for the delays, beauties. Thank you for reading this and remember to always stay determined!~ <3

Oh yeah, this should go without saying, but uh... The AUs mentioned in this short story don't belong to me (though the alt Magics do). Go give props to the creators of Underfell, Outertale, Horrortale, Reapertale, Dancetale, XTale, Epictale, and the creators of Ink!Sans, the Omega Timeline, and CORE!Frisk. Also, shoutout to one of my Discord friends for listing the first five AUs in that list to use in this crazy little spinoff story. You're a true bro. Who knows if I'll be using these AUs again in the future? Maybe you'll have to wait and see for yourselves. ;)

Bye now!

( LOST IN THE ECHO PROLOGUE )

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shions-new-blog-of-stuff · 2 years ago

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"Guardian Angel"

[Canon x OC] [Leon x Catherine (OC)] CW: Blood, gore, zombies doing zombie things, injury, canon-typical violence? For my biggest fans @squashfics @whateverthefuckyouwantiguess @likesugarandcyanide@allen-444 @oreo-leon

@xcyberhexx

@lex-the-flex

@cilantro24

AN: This has been stewing around in my head for a while. I might turn it into a longer story. Maybe. Very stream of thought, quick writing, I just REALLY wanted to put something to paper/word pad 😂 What a night.

It started off as an evening at the local school of music--St. Cecilia's. Catherine had received an invitation to the annual concert from a old friend from high school, who had moved back to town in order to take classes there. A perfect excuse for Catherine to get all dressed up--white blouse, a black neck ribbon, black pencil skirt and matching shoes. The performances from every student filled the auditorium with fantastic melodies. After the final performance, there was to be a grand dinner held for everyone attending.

But now, Catherine was trapped at the far west wing of the school, hiding in an office, pain shooting up and down her leg. Unable to walk, she quietly sobbed as the moans and sounds of shambling feet got closer to her position.

It happened so suddenly--out of nowhere it seemed. She overheard some chatter in the ladies room about a few members of the faculty and a couple students falling ill. And then a small crowd of people began attacking several members of the audience and the class onstage.

Catherine could still hear the terrified screams, and the almost squishy sound of flesh being ripped apart. Then the fire alarm going off and thundering footsteps as the panicked crowd ran in every direction. She had ALMOST made it to the exit, only for someone to shove her forcefully from behind, sending her falling down the stairs. Now suffering a sprained ankle, Catherine now had to use the wall for balance.

In her attempt to make her way to another exit, her blood ran cold at the sight of a blonde woman hunched over her old friend, clawing his stomach open, her blue dress torn in places, her skin grey and missing her nose, her eyes a solid egg white and mouth covered in blood.

This can't be real.

This just can't be real.

Catherine gasped and covered her mouth, which caused the blonde woman to slowly look up, staggering to her feet, extending her arms forward and letting out a pained groan that echoed in the hallway.

Catherine lost her balance and fell backwards into the office, crying out in pain as she scrambled to shut the door. The woman outside continued to groan and begin to pound at the door, staining the glass window with blood and guts.

Moving backwards to the corner of the room, Catherine rummaged through her bag for her phone. But it wasn't there, which is when she discovered the tear in the bag. Everything except her wallet, which was in a side pocket, had fallen out in the confusion and chaos.

Defeated, Catherine started writing out some last goodbyes in her head as the glass shattered and the woman flopped over the window, crawling towards Catherine. Gasps became caught in Catherine's throat as she watched in horror as her friend was also lazily shuffling towards the door, blood streaming down his neck and shoulder, his expression blank.

With inhuman strength he pushed the door off its hinges, and Catherine hung her head, hugging her knees and shutting her eyes.

Gunshots rang out, and Catherine fell over, covering her ears. It was only a few minutes, but felt like an eternity. She slowly opened her eyes, to see both the woman and her friend lying still on the floor, a foot away from her. They never touched her at all.

A figure with a familiar voice gently helped her sit up.

"Cath."

There he was--Leon, wearing the clothing she remembered him in during that whole strange ordeal in Spain--but also an expensive-looking, but soft to the touch leather jacket with multiple pockets.

Catherine threw her arms around his back, burying her face in his neck.

"God…Leon…it's…it's really you," she mumbled into his jacket.

"Of all places to find you," Leon replied softly as he moved her to face him, "you all right?"

"My leg. I can't walk…sss! I think it's sprained."

Leon briefly pulled an arm away to retrieve a little ink-black beeper looking device, pressing a few buttons before putting it away.

"Real quick. Catherine, those people," Leon pointed at the two downed bodies. "Or others like them, were you bitten?"

Catherine shook her head no.

"Scratched?" Leon continued.

Catherine shook her head no once more, shifting to check her arms, neck, and legs. "What's happening…? Oh god, Leon, is it the parasites again?"

"No, it's not…but arguably just as bad…" Leon carefully put his arms around Catherine to pick her up. "It's…it's a viral infection. When it gets far enough, well…"

"My friend, he…he was being eaten by that woman…but then he got up. He was already dead, Leon…but…"

Leon stepped over the corpses, and out into the hallway. "Never wanted you to experience this Cath, but it's exactly what you saw--the dead walk."

He looked down at Catherine with a melancholy expression. "C'mon sweetheart, let's get out of here."

#leon kennedy x oc

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tears-of-boredom · 1 year ago

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for some reason i get so much more enjoyment out of listening to songs on cd than i do from like, streaming them. especially this one cd i have because its slightly scratched so the same song always sounds a bit weird but in different ways every time. its lovely. also i figured out the mode system on my cd player so now i know what symbol means that it will repeat the cd until i stop it. i get so much more attached to albums when i have cds of them. i dont like the songs from trash by alice cooper that much to be honest, but i still enjoy listening to the cd. i also have vertigo by metallica, and i really do not care for most of the songs, but it is so lovely to leave on when im on my computer. the experience of getting a snack from the kitchen and coming back to my room filled with the sounds of vertigo is really nice. and i kind of wish i had pablo honey by radiohead on a cd too. ill look into burning cds. though i dont have empty ones really. can you use dvds for it? or is the visual aspect of dvds ingrained into the disk? because i do have useless dvds around. technically the only disc station thing is my ps4. its really annoying how tech companies have just kind of dropped disc readers from laptops and pcs. anyways heres my opinion on vertigo:

enter sandman, kinda boring, i confuse it with my friend of misery all the time.

sad but true, eh. chorus is kinda good, otherwise too repetitive for me.

holier than thou is kinda fun.

the unforgiven is eh. not the worst ig.

wherever i may roam.. its alright. i like the intro.

don't tread on me. eh. not my thing.

through the never. its okay.

nothing else matters is actually pretty nice. probably my favourite out of vertigo. tbh it sounds kind of strange when its mixed in with these other, up-beat, songs, it stands out to me so much when its the only calm one.

of wolf and man, i like the intro although its short. its a nice song.

the god that failed is pretty good. the guitar solo near the 3 minute mark is great.

my friend of misery. i like it near the beginning. drags on too much in my mind. i like the guitar part around 4 minutes.

the struggle within. tbh for the longest time i thought it was "struggle with air" as in, choking or asthma. its good.

overall its not a bad cd, its just not the greatest either.

oh and funny thing so my cd is this version:

but i guess the "metallica" text was like printed in a different way to the snake, because the text has just faded to nothing. you can see a small bit of the highlights if you're looking for them, but until this moment when i googled the cover, i had thought that it was just dust. and now that i know what its supposed to look like, i actually like my faded one better. completely black except for the snake in the corner that is quite hard to see also actually.

#vertigo #metallica #music

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cories-in-the-house · 3 months ago

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Hello everybody. I know it’s been a long time since I’ve uploaded anything here, and I’d like to finally explain why.

In short, viral hemorrhagic septicemia ravaged my tank and killed every single last one of my cory cats. This was the mysterious illness that plagued the tank for months since late last winter. I finally found out what it was thanks to other cory owners on Reddit. VHS was introduced to my tank by the cories I bought from Petco. Since my last update here, VHS has taken the lives of Dumpling, Crouton, and the other cories. I was devastated. Worse yet, you cannot kill viruses that enter your aquarium—they’re immune to medicine. I didn’t want to keep posting here with a stream of bad news, it’s upsetting and humiliating.

Fletcher and Magnum, my black kuhli loaches, are miraculously alive and haven’t shown any signs of VHS, so they’re currently the only inhabitants of the 20 gallon long. The tank likely has to remain a closed system until I either move Fletcher and Magnum to a smaller tank, or until they die and I’d have to clean out the entire tank just to reuse it. I’ve thought about adding more black loaches so they aren’t lonely—they’ve been hiding a lot since the last cory died—but it’s a risk because my loaches could be asymptomatic carriers of VHS and start another mass die-off. I’d hate to inflict that on other innocent loaches, but I don’t know what to do about Fletcher and Magnum. *I forget if I ever gave an update on my loach Columbo, but he suddenly got ill with something I never identified and passed away. This was soon after an ich outbreak, but he didn’t look to have ich and I healed everyone else.

Right now due to life circumstances we may have to move rather suddenly in the coming few months, so it isn’t wise to try setting up a new small tank right now for the loaches. There’s also the issue of whenever the loaches would die, and then I’d have another tank to take down and either sell off or start again. I can’t house the loaches with Jovian because he hates their wriggly asses, plus it isn’t big enough for them. I hope to get more albino cories in the future, but as you could figure I’m not in a position to at the time being.

Overall this is a shitty situation. I never expected my fishkeeping dream to be crushed before even a year of owning fish. I never expected an unkillable virus to wipe out my tank. There have been and continue to be so many financial risks and losses due to all the illness.

Just as a warning to fellow cory enthusiasts, I’ve been informed that albino cories have recently seen a worrying increase in infection with viral hemorrhagic septicemia because of poor breeding practices and stores not looking into the health of these fish. It isn’t just Petco or Petsmart—I got cories from a huge local store well-known here and they were extremely ill. If I’m going to get albino cories again, I’m absolutely going to a reputable online breeder instead. I would get more cories from the pet store I got my original batch from, but they suddenly closed. Please please please be so careful where you source your cories, VHS is a horrifying, grotesque way to go. Look out for signs in your own cories—the biggest symptom of septicemia is internal bleeding, and it can get fucking nasty. Look out for blood spots around fin stalks, gills, and around internal organs. If you don’t put down infected fish, you might see them slowly bleed to death from the inside. I was too emotional to do so, but I wish I had.

I plan to post more here when I figure out my fish situation and plan out the financial aspect. I just wanted to post an update for anyone that follows me or comes across my account.

#cories in the house #cw: blood

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poisonmaximoff · 3 years ago

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BELATED FATE (Elizabeth Olsen x FemReader).

The whole story: here.

Chapter 21. Accepting the fate

Y/n's POV:

I had to spend a whole night on a yacht in my cabin, thoroughly soaking my poor pillow, which was drowning out my endless stream of tears for several hours straight. Even my previous breakup didn't hurt me as much as spending five minutes with someone I wasn't even in a relationship with.

It's completely my fault. I allowed myself to succumb to the call of my heart, which longed for something unreachable for me, the woman who is beyond everything. I allowed myself to enjoy every minute spent with her as we shared small chuckles, big laughs and moments of comfortable silence.

The thought that I could fall in love with her that very moment when I saw her in the elevator that day and all this time deny the obvious fact, covering pure feelings with fleeting sympathy, doesn't give me any rest. Remembering me throwing unconscious glances in her direction, my rapid breathing next to her, the slightest feeling of envy towards Boyd, only makes me more convinced of my assumption. Only love can affect you like this.

Elizabeth Olsen captured my heart from the minute she walked into that ill-fated elevator and linked her gaze with mine, deliciously rolling my name on her tongue. Her special attitude towards me left no chance for my naive feelings not to find their home in a genuine attraction to the woman.

I could have explained to her right there why I made this choice, but my uncertainty that I could be with her for a few more minutes without surrendering to her embrace made me turn around and run away. Although I'm not as selfish asshole as I may seem.

I'm mature enough to respect her desire to remain private and to be ready to sacrifice our ability to be in an open relationship. But not along with the fact that she will be married to another person and I will have to be content with the role of paramour, even without the opportunity to have a proper life with her.

Elizabeth wants to live a double life, showing the public a fake image of an exemplary wife and being herself only with me. She is ready to lie to everyone including herself, her parents, husband and friends, she is ready to become a cheater by violating her own moral principles just to be able to periodically spend time with me. And I will never let her do this to her beautiful personality, turning it into a worthless piece of dirt because she didn't find enough strength to refuse one temptation.

It was probably one of the few times when my own fear saved me from a possible deep emotional wound. Although currently the pain almost tears me apart, creating a strong desire to simply cease to exist so as not to feel anything, I believe that in time I will be healed. Right now my only task is finding a safe way to do that.

I almost don't remember how the whole next day went, because I lived it as if in a fog, not fully perceiving the real world, wandering through my inner labyrinth from various thoughts. It even crossed my mind a couple of times that I should drop everything, quit the company and move away, but the fact that I have neither the skills nor the chances of getting an equally good job somewhere else immediately erased this desire. In addition to this, it would be difficult for me to leave my family and friends here and live in a strange city completely alone.

By the evening, I already began to come back to my senses and fully realize what was happening to me. Firstly, tomorrow I have to go to work again, because I don't want to let my parents down with my irresponsibility, and secondly, I understand that I won't be able to avoid Elizabeth for the rest of my life and now I have to figure out how to build at least normal business relations with her.

Once again wearing myself out with my thoughts, which has already become a habit since this woman appeared in my life, I finally allow my body and mind to fall asleep at around 2 a.m.

I don't think I've ever felt so exhausted and unwilling to do absolutely anything in my life. Sitting in my office and bringing what I think is my third cup of coffee today to my mouth, I replay in my head a dream that has tormented me all night.

Rich looking guests in expensive matching outfits have already gathered for the main event for many people here: Elizabeth and Boyd's wedding. The general excitement, laugher and happiness for the newlyweds are floating in the air, creating a magical festive atmosphere for everyone here except me.

Taking a seat next to my parents at the ceremony, I watch a couple in love up close as they make wedding vows to each other and a sickening feeling rises in my stomach along with tears in my eyes.

It should have been me putting the wedding ring on her finger. It should have been me who swears eternal love to her and gives her a loving kiss, getting the opportunity to call her my wife.

She never even looked at me, completely focusing her attention on her new husband, smiling at him with a sincere loving smile, while I still sit in my place without moving, swallowing a lump that came up to my throat, threatening to burst out strong sobs.

It should have been me.

I wonder if this is a sign or if it's just the tricks of my tired preoccupied mind because of what happened. Maybe I should've still gave us a chance despite all the difficulties? Although, considering that life sends them to us from the very beginning of our acquaintance, I'm more and more convinced that fate is categorically against us being together. And who am I to argue with it?

A knock on the door pulls me away from filling out some spreadsheet and I say "come in" loudly, allowing the person to enter the office.

"Y/n, hi," my red-haired colleague Cindy comes inside and greets me, leaving the door open. "It's already a break and I noticed that you're still sitting here, do you want to come down for lunch?" Wow, time goes incredibly fast today, because I didn't even notice that it was already 1 p.m.

"Yes, of course, give me a minute." Without hesitation, I agree and, having grabbed my bag, I leave the office with the girl going down to a small restaurant on the ground floor.

"You know what's funny?" Cindy probably didn't stop talking for a minute while I reluctantly picked my salad with a fork and listened to her silently.

"Tell me," I say half thoughtfully, staring down at my nearly untouched food, as I'm not in the mood to actively engage in conversation at the moment.

"Ms. Olsen stormed into my office today and ordered me to stop doing all my business, because she urgently needed some help." The talk suddenly became interesting for me and I curiously stared at the girl in anticipation of continuing.

"I don't know what's wrong with her, but she rushed around the building like a hurricane, issuing orders and getting angry at everyone who didn't complete their tasks on time. I've never seen her so mad, must be nerves 'cause of her wedding. I could barely keep up with her, what an experience!" This is not at all like the calm and methodical Ms. Olsen I know, but of course I'm going to keep silent about this.

"It's strange, she's not usually like that," I reply so as not to stir up anything extra and Cindy narrows her eyes slightly, putting another spoonful of soup into her mouth.

"How do you know what she usually is?" Oh shit, not these curious questions from colleagues, which always end up with all the employees finding out about it.

"Just helped her a couple of times, nothing more."

"Hm, okay. So...Are you invited to their wedding too? Since you seem pretty close to their social circle and people say it's going to be really grand. Rumors are spreading at the speed of light!" Thank you for an amazing topic of conversation, dear, I dreamed of discussing this all day and night.

"I don't know yet and I don't really care about someone's personal lives," I calmly reply, doing my best to hide the fact that I actually care too much.

"You're a weirdo, Y/n." No, I'm just in love with our boss.

"Anything is possible," I smile at the girl as I continue to eat my meal.

"By the way, she was asking about you today." I almost choked on a leaf of lettuce, hearing that Elizabeth was interested in me. "You're supposed to give her some materials for the upcoming board of directors." Shit, they're, of course, ready and I did everything that was necessary, but to intersect with her once again is not what I would like to face.

"Oh, can you give them to her, please? I don't see her often and she's constantly absent from her office, I never know where she can be found," the first dumb excuse that came across my brain makes my colleague raise one eyebrow.

"Unfortunately, she instructed me to go to the other end of city for new contracts after dinner, but another time I would certainly to that," she smiles and I'm disappointed knowing that meeting sparkling green eyes is inevitable. "The last time I saw her she was in the conference room preparing for the presentation, look for her there."

Taking a deep breath while standing in front of the door with a couple of folders and a flash drive in my hands, I squeeze out the last of my strength to finally go there. Should I just throw everything on the table and run away or maybe ask the cleaning lady to do it for me? Fuck, Y/n, you're as nervous as if you've been called to the police station for suspected treason. Get it together, you're not the miserable coward.

Leaning the knuckles of my right hand against the door and knocking on it a couple of times, I quietly open it and slowly enter the room, surprisingly not noticing a single soul there. Huh, I stood in the hallway like a fool for several minutes collecting my thoughts to face literally no one? Now this is embarrassing.

"Y/n?"

"Oh god!" I, jumping up from fright, drop everything that I had in my hands on the floor, creating a loud sound of things hitting the surface.

Turning behind me with bulging eyes and parted lips, I meet the tired gaze of a woman sitting on the desk. A suit jacket hanging on the back of a chair, the top buttons of a shirt casually unbuttoned, several empty cups on the table and slightly swollen reddish eyes tell me that Elizabeth has been here apparently since early morning.

"I brought everything I needed to do," I say without even greeting her and glance at the paperwork strewn across the floor, kneeling down to gather it up. Hearing the soft clicking of heels approaching me, I hesitate to raise my head to her, knowing full well that even a few seconds of eye contact with her have too powerful effect on me.

She repeats my action and also goes down on one knee to help me put all the papers in place, seeing how my hands disobey me, clumsily dropping everything back to the floor. These couple of minutes of silence in being this close to her seem like an actual torture to me, threatening my nerves to break like thin strings of a harp.

Having coped with the task, I rise to my feet and she imitates my action again, continuing to stand motionless near me with her head turned to my side, which I see with peripheral vision. Glancing at her for a couple of seconds and noticing how she carefully examines almost every inch of my face, I awkwardly clear my throat and head to the large table to put my stuff on it.

"Will you stay to help me with the presentation?" A hesitant voice behind me asked, almost making me to instantly agree.

"You're just trying to spend some time with me, aren't you?" I understand perfectly well that this was just another excuse.

"I am. Is this a bad thing?" She asks almost disappointedly and I still don't even dare to turn to her, afraid that my self-control will let me down once again and I will throw myself into her arms.

"Yes, Elizabeth, it's a bad thing." I still decide to turn around and again face her gentle look, in which even after everything that happened, I don't find any resentment and anger at me. "We shouldn't be spending any more time together," I hate saying it out loud and being the person trying to push her away once again.

"Is this your final decision?" She looks at me with a hint of hope and bites her lower lip in anticipation of an answer, riveting my attention to this for a couple of seconds, but my cold mind throws me back to reality.

"I'm tired of making decisions, El. Don't you understand yourself the situation we're in?" I try to open her eyes to all the problems that await us if we succumb to weakness, because it seems that she only pays attention to what is happening here and now, completely forgetting about the future.

"In what situation, Y/n?" She takes a couple of steps towards me. "It's not my fault, that I fell in love with you," my breath hitches, "and I know you feel the same way. Why are you so resistant to it?" Her words don't sound like a claim or demand, it's just a normal question of a blinded person who doesn't understand anything. I never thought that I would ever be more mature than her, having to explain her such things and the fact that she doesn't see anything past the end of her nose, refusing to put herself in my place, starts to make me a little mad.

"How do you think I'll feel knowing that you belong to someone else and that I'll never be able to have you just for myself, forever being a second choice?" My tone is a mixture of disappointment in her selfishness and pain at the realization of the veracity of my words.

"But I don't love him, Y/n! How can you not understand that you will always be more important for me than everyone else?"

I can't believe how desperately she wants everything to happen in her own way. "If it were true, Elizabeth, you would prove it with more than empty words, end of the story." She averts her eyes somewhere to the side, digging her nails into the tender palms of her hands, and I stand there clenching my jaw because of the surging emotions, thinking about whether I took it too far.

Not receiving an answer, I decide to continue: "I sincerely wish you all the best, you deserve so much more than hiding and sneaking out with a girl who can't give you anything." My hand involuntarily finds its place on her cheek and she leans into my touch, laying her own palm on top of mine and looking at me with big shiny eyes.

"If you're truly in love with me, please, give me a chance to be happy too." I look at her pleadingly, trying to convey through my eyes how sorry I am and how much I wish things had happened differently. She just silently nods to me, removing my hand from her face and leaves a gentle kiss on my palm, humbly accepting my words, allowing me to calmly leave the spacious room with my back turned to her.

A/n: please be patient with my blah blah blah a little longer and i'll give ya what you want 😁

#elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen fanfic #elizabeth olsen fanfiction #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen x you #lizzie olsen #marvel fanfiction #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fanfic #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x yn

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obae-me · 4 years ago

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A Taste of Your Own Medicine

Author’s Note: I finally did it! One of my bigger projects finished! And this is the most ambitious thing I’ve posted in a while! It’ll be my biggest post for sure! I truly, truly hope you guys enjoy this. I hope this sickfic can make you feel a bit better during these times. (*slaps fic* This bad boy can fit so many cuddles in it). Thank you all for your encouragement and support, it’s honestly what helped me get this finished! Also, I swear I’ve been over this thing more than thirty times to try and catch mistakes, but it’s a lot so if I missed mistakes I apologize.

Word Count: 18,300

Warnings: Blood, Medication Use, Vomiting, I’m not a doctor in any way shape or form, so please don’t take any of this as a personal guide.

As Always, Read Safely, And Please Enjoy!

Lucifer, then Satan and Mammon. After that came Beel and Belphie, followed up by Levi. Lastly Asmo. All of them, every single one, had fallen ill. Try as they may, none of them had been safe, and you’d been the main one working to nurse them back to health despite you knowing nothing about caring for demons. It had been...what was the right word? Grueling? No. Enjoyable? Well you couldn’t quite say that either. It had its ups and downs. Working for about a month straight on little sleep wasn’t exactly a dream job, but the affection and actions you’d seen were priceless. The pictures on your phone and the memories in your head would keep your heart warm for the rest of your life, but you could go no further. You were done. Done with being a nurse. Done with restless nights. Done with this illness.

The House of Lamentation had finally begun to feel normal again, normal except for your persistent fatigue accompanied by strange shifts in your body temperature. It started off small at first, you had hardly noticed. Unfortunately, it had grown rather rapidly, impeding your day-to-day life. The fuzzy thoughts in the back of your mind knew that something was unnatural. Your body shouldn’t feel like this. Yet, afraid of facing the truth, or hoping you were just overreacting, you insisted that just sleeping it off would bring you back to normal.

Only... you should’ve known. You should’ve seen the signs. The sneezing, the breathlessness you felt with the simplest of things, the discomfort settling in your bones. What were you going to do? Well, you figured the best thing to do was move onward, acting like nothing was amiss. Fake it till you make it. Whatever it was would go away on its own, it had to.

But it wouldn’t, and as much as they would refuse to admit it, each demonic member of the household had grown fond of being fussed over by you. Tugging you in all directions, demanding constant attention, wearing your energy down to dust. Although, if you were being entirely honest, they tended to do that regardless. However, after being treated so specially, their neediness grew tenfold. Thus, without giving yourself a break, every morning you ended up feeling worse than the day before, and it was only going downhill from there. Perhaps you should’ve told them, nipping it in the bud before it had a change to blossom into something terrible. In retrospect, that should’ve been the obvious path to take. Yet, driven by some desire you couldn’t place, you pushed yourself so far past the breaking point that your own body had to stop you.

Waking up to your alarm in the early hours of this particular morning was more difficult than you’d like to admit. Removing the blankets might as well have been pushing stones off your body. Your limbs felt stiff, gravity’s pull was stronger than it should’ve been, and moving forward was like pushing through waves of molasses. However, you went forward, still fooled under some grand delusion that you’d feel better once you freshened up. Gathering up a change of clothes and a towel for your morning shower, you stumbled out of your room. Getting to the bathroom had been a blur, the only thing you could recall was consistently leaning your weight against the wall to keep your legs steady. You’d met no one in your path, assuming they must’ve all already been in the dining hall, the faint smell of breakfast foods flooding the hallways. It made your stomach churn.

Before anyone could see you in this downright pathetic state, you entered the bathroom, shutting the door behind you and locking it. You took a moment to catch your breath and press your forehead against the cold wood of the door. It felt amazing against your skin. But you couldn’t linger, you had to get ready for RAD. As you turned, you came up to the sink, settling your items on the side of the bowl. It was then you saw your face in the mirror for the first time that morning. Biting your lip, you splashed some water on your face, hoping it would wash away some of the hints of sickness-- the not-sickness...you weren’t sick. Right? You couldn’t have caught the demon illness, right? Was it possible? Your head was throbbing, the heart in your chest pounding in panic. What were you going to do? You couldn’t miss classes, you couldn’t let anyone know, you couldn’t be a burden. Brush your teeth, you thought. Get ready, play it off. It’s not that bad. It’s not that bad. Stop overreacting.

Showering felt nice, it was the only thing so far that let you feel some peace. The steamy hot water released some of the tension in your temples and lungs. Although, the intense heat made you lightheaded, and a single little misstep in the shower had you almost plummet to the floor. Shaking, gasping for air, desperately attempting to cling to the slick stone wall, you slowly sat on the wet tiles, leaning your body back so the stream of water landed directly on your chest. The comfort almost coaxed you back into sleep, but before you could fall into slumber, you jolted. How long had you been in there? Five minutes? Half an hour? You could forget about washing your head today. Crawling out of the shower, the frigid air burnt the inside of your nose, shuddering you with a few sneezes. Not good. You rushed to dry yourself off and pull your uniform on. Before you headed down to the dining hall, you blew your nose, shook your head, and prepared yourself to sound as normal as possible. Somehow you managed not to stumble down the stairs, something you were thankful for. Maybe it wasn’t as severe as you thought it was.

Arguing could be heard past the hall doors. That wasn’t too rare, it’d become tradition almost, to the point where being met with an unclamorous silence was somewhat threatening. What was it this time? Mammon stealing something? Beel eating something? Belphie not doing something?

It was hard to comprehend the words, but you could make out the important pieces. “I bought that for ya, so it… … … that I took it back!” Mammon growled.

“Once you… … … it was mine!” Asmo shrieked. “It wasn’t yours to sell … … … buy it in the first place!”

Ah, so it was another Mammon related issue, you didn’t need to be a hardcore gambler to win that bet. Raised voices didn’t do any good for your head, the pressure in your eardrums throbbing. You stayed silent as you slid inside, or at least you tried to stay silent. Instead, you accidently made your presence prominent as you shut the doors too harshly behind you. Heads turned all at once, your knees threatening to turn to jelly under the gaze.

“Is something the matter, MC?” Lucifer asked, the first one able to sense something wrong. He always knew. You were never able to hide anything from him. However, the fact that you’d been able to play things off in his presence up till now settled a sort of twisted pride inside you. You blamed Pride himself for his bad influence. Lowering his cup from his lips, he raised an eyebrow.

You mustered up a usual grin. “Just...tired,” you lied. Had your throat always been this sore? And was it the table full of warm food, or was it terribly hot in here? Not the healing sort of temperature either, but rather the sticky suffocating heat that formed waves in your vision. Or maybe the room was swirling on its own? Tugging at the collar of your shirt, you took a single step forward, attempting to walk again. You lowered your head, turning away from the eldest, remaining as inconspicuous as possible for fear he’d take one good look at you and expose your troubles. Lucifer was not convinced, shifting his gaze between his morning cup of coffee and your strange stature. For the time being, he dropped his questions, lying in wait for you to exude any signs that you were lying.

Doing your best not to trip up, you eventually sat down at the dining table, a spot left open for you between Belphie--who was sitting up asleep--and Asmo. The demon of lust luckily didn’t seem to notice your weaker state, continuing on his tirade against his older brother. “Mammon, I swear to whatever forces may be listening that if you don’t get it back I will ruin you, you hear me?!”

“Yeah yeah, you can try!” Mammon scoffed.

Asmo spoke again, his words blocked out by the sudden ringing in your ears, the shrill noise spurring on pain behind your eyes. As you bit the inside of your cheek, you squeezed your eyes closed till the painful sound faded away. Only, opening them back up now seemed to make everything worse. The light was harsh, far too harsh, blinding rays striking off every reflective surface. Your vision started to swim, blurring the features of those around you. Squinting, you groaned a bit to yourself before lifting a utensil from the table, attempting to eat some of the breakfast in front of you before anyone became suspicious. Every bite sank heavily to the bottom of your stomach.

“Will the two of you be quiet, for sin’s sake?!” Satan boomed, his wrath peeking through his composure as his brothers started to take their spat too far, interrupting what should’ve been a quiet morning. Although, when had that ever happened? Magic spilling from their fingertips, demon forms exposed, Mammon and Asmo were each ready to brawl it out at any moment. The ruckus finally managed to stir Belphie who was visibly irritated.

The miniscule amount of food you had eaten started to already stir sickeningly within you. The sweltering heat you had felt before stripped away in a moment, a frightening chill creeping over your body. Before you could think, you got to your feet, breathless, heart pounding as an overwhelming presence of something agonizing forced you to move. Getting up too quickly caused the whole world to rock, your head doing somersaults. Lucifer obviously was now convinced everything was far from fine as you swayed on your own two feet, the legs of his chair screeching against the hardwood floor as he stood. Everyone in the room quickly went quiet, all eyes on you as you fumbled. The weight of their attention seemed to push you further over the edge. “It’s...I’m…” You needed to move, to be anywhere but here, so you staggered a few steps away from the group.

You heard the thud before you felt it, not quite comprehending what it meant to feel the floor fall out from beneath you as the world shifted sideways. The area became a chorus of shouts as seven demons called out your name. You didn’t fully blackout. Your consciousness was too stubborn to be snuffed out like that, but you couldn’t fully talk or move either.

A pair of arms wrapped around you, bringing you close to their body. Despite being right next to you, somehow everything still felt so far away, like you were experiencing everything secondhand. The smoothness of leather touched your cheek before the glove was supposedly discarded, cold skin touching your face. “They’re burning up,” Lucifer announced, the undertones of his voice just barely wavering, or perhaps your sense of sound was just as skewed as your sight had been. He flipped his hand over, his knuckles brushing against your forehead. You tried opening your eyes to look at him, but it was next to impossible.

“MC?! Hey, what’s with you?!” Mammon shouted, two hands squeezing your shoulders. The panic in his words was apparent. “What’s wrong with them?!”

“I think they’re sick,” Belphie chimed.

Satan sounded distant, but his voice still drifted to your ears. “Should I alert Simeon and Solomon?”

Without warning, you sensed yourself being lifted off the floor, the sudden movement jerking the last strands of your consciousness back as you lurched into a black weightlessness. You swam through the fog, trying to pick back up the voices in the room.

“...the human world to get a few things,” someone spoke. As you shifted your body, the people went silent, but not for long.

“They’re awake!”

“Thank heavens…”

“Oi, everyone get off ‘em!”

Somehow, you found the energy to open your eyes. There were no arms holding you and the dining room was far gone. You were now in bed, in your room, surrounded by demons, angels, and the only other human in the Devildom. The confusion of the blank spot in your memory shot panic through your nerves, not to mention it was uncomfortable to be stared down like this. “What…?” You gasped, trying to sit up in bed. A washcloth slid off your forehead and down your face. Someone’s gentle hands guided you back into a lying position, taking the rag and putting it back in its place.

Lucifer had a chair pulled up to your bedside, lines popping up between his eyebrows in worry. He finished pressing you back up against your pillow, pulling the blankets back over your chest. “Don’t move too much,” he ordered, his words harsh but his eyes soft. “You collapsed in the dining hall.”

Well, that part you could recall. They must’ve brought you here. Despite it only feeling like a second, you must’ve been out long enough for the other exchange students to arrive. “Is-” You interrupted yourself with some coughs, quickly turning your head into your pillow. Even just speaking left your lungs weak, but you had a question. “Is it…?

“It’s not what the brothers had if that’s what you’re asking,” Solomon nodded. “You as a human couldn’t catch that particular illness. Although if you had, you probably wouldn’t survive. So lucky you, right?” Levi nearly dropped to his knees at that prospect, eyes wide with fear, as if he wasn’t convinced that you were lucky at all. You had to admit, you felt far from it. Many of the other siblings shot the sorcerer a dirty glare, everyone’s nerves strangely on edge. Solomon closed his eyes and laughed a bit. “Aha, but like I said, it’s a very mortal disease. Just a cold or the case of the flu from what I can tell.”

“Just?” Mammon growled, barking out his opinions like an angry guard dog. “They’re lying here looking like they're two seconds away from pushin’ up daisies and you make guesses? You’ve been acting so calm and treating this like it ain’t that serious! And to be honest, it’s kinda tickin’ me off!” He took a few serious steps towards Solomon, shoulders squared, ready to fight. Luke ducked behind Simeon’s body for protection, but there was no need. Before he took things too far, Mammon growled and resumed his brisk pace around your room.

“I hate to agree with him,” Asmo started, “But Mammon’s right.” The fourth-born frowned, some of his outward sparkle dulled with concern. Every hint of his and Mammon’s dispute had faded away. “This isn’t a joke! You have to do something, Solomon! Save them!” Asmo flung himself over the sorcerer begging and pleading, reacting as if you were on your deathbed. Mammon pushed a haughty breath of air between his teeth, turning on his heels to sit beside you on the bed. His nervous energy could hardly be contained, erratically adjusting the blanket over your body as one of his legs bounced up and down rapidly.

Solomon shook his head, brushing Asmo off of him. “I was simply trying to lighten the mood.” You caught a flicker of amusement in his eyes as he watched these powerful demons on the brink of falling to pieces. “If treated properly, it shouldn't be fatal. Plenty of monitoring and rest and the body should heal on its own. Of course if it worsens or persists, then a doctor might be required, but we can cross that bridge when we get to it. Although, like I was saying, it would be best if I went to the human world to at least get some proper medicine. We wouldn’t want our MC here to suffer the full brunt of the symptoms, and I doubt the remedies here would have a desired effect.”

With that, Lucifer sighed, lifting his chin to address the sorcerer. “I shall accompany you to the human world. We’ll get what we need and come right back, understood?”

Either the demon of pride’s stern glare wasn’t at its peak today or Solomon was generally unaffected. The sorcerer looked past him and right at you with a grin on his face. “He gets rather overbearing when it comes to you doesn’t he?”

“We’re leaving,” Lucifer huffed, his arms wide to shepherd everyone out of your room. Several of his siblings cried out in protest. “Everyone out! The last thing MC needs is the bunch of you bothering them.” The only one he didn’t tug along was Simeon, the angel turning down the light and approaching you as soon as everyone had gone.

A short laugh rumbled in his throat. “They sure do care about you a lot,” he smiled. He took Mammon’s previous spot on the bed by you, settled by your hip. He discovered the bump in the blanket that served as your arm under the covers. Slowly, he ran his hand up and down over it. “What a terrible thing for you to be this sick.” It wasn’t often the angel frowned, but in this case he appeared deeply troubled, as if he was taking your pain as his own. “I can help you fall asleep if you’d like me to. Solomon warned me against using too much magic against your weakened immune system, but I should be able to let you sleep peacefully.” He waited for a response, not moving forward with anything till you nodded your head slowly. Golden light rushed to the ends of his fingers, the soft skin of his fingertips brushing against your eyelids to close them. A shudder ran down your spine, your own body tingling, and you wondered if it was his magic or simply just the tender gesture. “Rest well, MC,” Simeon whispered. “Feel better.” And then just like he suggested, your mind quickly got swept along into a blissful sleep.

Angelic magic or not, it didn’t seem to hold back the fever for long. Even in your dreams, all you could feel was frigid fire. Your nerves were fried, unable to tell if you were freezing to death or boiling. And the dreams...the images flashing in your mind of threats you couldn’t understand, dangers that filled you with panic. Someone was uttering words to you that you couldn't understand. All you could do was try to run, try to escape. Everything about you was screaming.

Through the mist of sickness, you could finally make out the voice. “...gotta...can’t...help…” After a few moments of the whimpering and the distress, you were alarmed to figure out it was the sound of your own voice. But you couldn’t even feel yourself saying the words.

“I’m here,” another person muttered past the darkness. “It’s alright…” The stranger shushed, trying to sound sweet to cover up the panic in their tone. “The one time I need that pompous jerk around and he’s gone. Figures.” You could hear a few pages being turned, a frustrated click of a tongue followed after. “Why didn’t I look this up before? Why wasn’t I prepared?” The anger from the other being in the room seemed to affect you. You thrashed a little, kicking your feet as if it would help push off the suffocating agony. Two hands clamped down on your shoulders, pinning you to the bed. “Calm down...Please calm down...I need to calm down.” Once you went back to being mostly still, more pages were turned. “Have the afflicted wear light clothing. I can do that.” A weight was shed off of you as the blanket pulled back. Air struck your sweat covered skin, sending chills down your body. You began to tremble. The front of your RAD uniform was tugged at, someone working at the buttons to shed the outer layer off your body.

“...won’t...s...sor...is…hah…” Your speech was broken, and even if you knew what you wanted to say, your mouth wouldn’t let you. Someone took your hands, lifting your arm to let gravity help assist in removing the sleeve. You could feel it slip before fully crashing against the bed like a dead weight, free of the thick uniform fabric. The same was done with the other arm. Then a hand supported the back of your neck, lifting your upper body just enough until the extra layer was yanked out from under you. Removing the jacket had been like opening an oven. Heat from your body suddenly escaped into the room, no longer trapped behind unnecessary insulation. Even in your rather deranged state, you could feel your shirt sticking to your skin. Now you seemed to be shuddering harder.

“Hydration...medication...Curses, Lucifer, get back here...Nothing...there’s nothing here!” The individual grunted in a growl of vexation, a frantic flutter of paper soaring further away before something heavy struck the ground far from you. You managed to stop moaning, switching to feverish panting. Your company tutted at you again, stroking the top of your head tenderly. “Can you even hear me at all? Breathe, MC, breathe.” It’s embarrassing to admit it took you much longer than you would’ve liked to remember how to control your breathing. Once you took some deeper inhales, you heard your caretaker sigh in relief. “Good…Well, not good, but better.”

Reality had sunken in almost completely now, just covered with a thin layer of dreamy haze. You cracked your eyes open, a mess of blonde hair and worried green eyes looking down at you. “S-Sa...tan,” you murmured.

His hand stroked your head a few more times before grabbing the wet rag again and dotting it across your face. The energy you needed to retain consciousness was quickly fading. Satan’s hands grasped your face. “Hold on! Look at me again, come on.” With every ounce of power you had left, you lifted your eyelids as much as you could. Still half-lidded, you only caught glimpses of his green sweater as he slid one hand under your back, lifting you up gently. Your head bobbed down, chin against your chest as Satan settled your back against your headboard. Gentle fingers lifted your head, some plastic brought to your lips. “You have to stay hydrated, drink just a little.” You wrapped your lips around the straw, sucking water into your body until you felt like you were going to be sick again. Satan moved to put the cup back down, and in that time he made the mistake of letting you go. Gravity tugged your body down, nearly slipping out of bed, threatening to fall to the floor. Thankfully, the demon of wrath was there to catch you. Head resting against his shoulder, you breathily let out a ‘thank you’ that was probably closer to a slurred series of sounds rather than a statement.

His arms wrapped tightly around you. “Don...lea…ve...”

Then everything went black again.

When consciousness flooded back to your mind, you had no idea how long it had been. Turning to your other side, you rubbed your head against the pillow. Everything was still much too warm. You slipped an arm under your heavy headrest, hoping to get to the cooler side. Your pillow twitched. Your pillow...was moving? Up. Down. Slow. Rising with steady breaths. You woke up, shifting enough in your spot to alert the person in your bed. Placing a book to the side, Satan rubbed one of your shoulders. Taking a moment to realize what position you were in, you felt your stomach flop once you came to the conclusion that you were lying against Satan’s legs, clinging to his clothes, hand against his lower back, head resting against his stomach. “You alright?” Satan wondered, pressing a hand to your forehead. You didn’t need to speak for him to know the answer. Not really. “I’ll admit, you had me worried for a while there.” He sat up fully, your head sliding back to your pillow--your actual pillow. You quickly retracted your death grip on him, hugging your arms close to your body. If there could be any more heat in your cheeks, there would be.

Shame creeped into your bones. “S...sorry.”

His expression brightened a small amount, pleased with the fact that you could speak mostly clearly now, even if your voice did sound ragged. He pulled the blanket back over your shoulders and up near your chin. “Don’t worry about that, just worry about feeling better.” He twisted his body, grabbing something off your nightstand again. “Here, have some more water. Everything I’ve read says that you need to stay hydrated at all times.” You dug your elbow into the mattress, lifting your head enough to not choke as you drank. As Satan lowered the glass, you noticed it was almost completely empty. You didn’t remember drinking that much. Exactly how delusional had you been earlier? How much had you forgotten? You downed the rest of the drink in small sips, lying back down when you were done.

“Did…” You squeaked. “Did I do anything…”

“Weird?” Satan finished your sentence for you. “So you don’t remember all of it, I take it?” You shook your head. “You started moaning, hyperventilating. Once you calmed down a bit you collapsed on me and refused to let me go. I figured since I was going to monitor you anyway I would…” A small blush formed on his cheeks. “Hold you till Lucifer got home.”

You looked away from his face, still a bit self conscious. You decided to change the subject. “He’s still gone?”

Satan’s lips almost curled into a little snarl. “Yes. I have no idea why he’s decided to take his sweet time to-” He cut himself off short, clearing his throat and removing any traces of rage. “Don’t worry about him, I’m sure he’ll be home soon with the medicine.” You felt the top of your head being pet again, tempting you to close your eyes. “Until then, is there anything I can get for you?” You shook your head once more, allowing yourself to indulge in your impulses, moving closer to his body. Despite seeming mostly unaffected by the intimacy earlier, he took in a short sharp breath, lifting his head to the side to hide part of his face. His hand was near your face, tauntingly close, reminding you of how chill his skin was and how good it felt to have him stroke your head. You closed your eyes, bringing your head forward enough to bump against his wrist. A stifled gasp rang through the air before he took a deep breath. “It’s unfortunate that you had to be this sick to…” His sentence trailed off, his hand that you’d ran into pressed against your burning cheeks before brushing against your hair, running down the length of locks before starting again. “Conserve your energy,” he whispered. “Go back to bed.”

“... … how are they?”

“...still feverish… …sleeping for a long time…”

“I’ll take over… … get some rest.”

Soft voices somehow roused you from your deep sleep, the final click of your door leaving you awake. You flitted your eyes open, immediately upset with how dry and crusty they felt. It didn’t help you feel any better when you noticed Lucifer by your bed, busy observing a small cardboard container. He was quick to notice you move, turning his head towards you as you wiped the grime from your eyes with the back of your finger. How embarrassing. Having to be sick, weak, vulnerable, positively distasteful, and in front of the people you thought highly of no less. Memories of Satan flooded back into your mind. Would they all think less of you after this? For how low you’d fallen? For how weak you were? You couldn’t let that happen. What had happened with Satan couldn’t be helped, but from here on out you would do your best to be independent. You adjusted to sit up.

“What did I say about moving too much?” He scolded, his hand outstretched to settle you back down. You swept his gesture away, sitting up fully and focusing on the item in his hand. A regular box of human world medicine. You reached out for it, and despite being annoyed you’d swatted him away, he handed it to you. The tones of his voice casually shifted from his typical strict nature to low and sweet. “Is...this the one you need?” You glanced it over. Gel pills, daytime and nighttime ones, for cold and flu symptoms. You nodded. He seemed relieved. “It doesn’t happen often, but I was glad for Solomon’s help in picking the proper medicines,” he admitted. “Who knew humans needed so many medications? And you even have entire shops dedicated to them.” He shook his head as a deep frown formed on his face as if he just realized how fragile and complicated human bodies could be. You sighed, agreeing with him in your mind. You were thankful he managed to bring this back though, for as much as you hated proving he was right, you desperately wanted the medicine to ease your aching symptoms. You tried prying the flap open, annoyed when it refused to tear apart. From out of the corner of your eye, you swore you spotted the smallest smirk cross over Lucifer’s face. “Would you like some help?” You grumbled, turning your torso away from him as you attempted again to open the simple package. In slight sadistic fashion, he simply observed you struggle for another few minutes before you tore the box open. Even just working on that had you nearly breathless, but you scrounged up a little triumphant grin. Pulling out one of the bubble sheets, you settled the box back in your lap which Lucifer quickly picked up, returning to read the details printed on the back. “No more than four doses a day,” he announced. “You can take two of those pills now and then wait for four hours before you can take any more.” He read all that out with the confidence of a doctor who knew exactly what he was prescribing. “I want you to check in with me before you decide to take more, understood?”

You desperately wanted to be snippy about it, but the energy for defense was long gone. Plus, you knew that he needed to have his hands on the reins at all times, and his stubbornness was especially bad when it was a situation he had no control over. “Okay,” you squeaked, pressing your thumb tightly against the foil backing until the pills were free. Dumping them out into your palm, you sighed to yourself once you spotted the empty glass of water from earlier. You’d have to go refill it.

As soon as you pushed the blankets back and swung your legs out of bed to stand up, Lucifer tightly gripped your shoulders. Normally, he would’ve reacted before the thought even crossed your mind, but your actions must’ve stunned him more than usual. “Where do you think you’re going?”

Wincing a little, you cleared your throat before you spoke. “I need water.” You tried to get back up, but your weakened strength was no match against Lucifer’s, and he was hardly trying.

“Then let me get some for you.” Your lips parted to utter out a rebuttal but he’d have none of it. He grasped your ankles, pulling your legs back into bed and folding the covers back over the lower half of your body. He pointed a gloved finger at you. “You’re not to move.” He plucked the empty glass off the tabletop, striding out of your door before you could even try to argue. A low groan rumbled in your chest, your lungs convulsing out a few more coughs. By the time you got your breathing managed again, the demon of pride was back in your room, handing you a fresh glass of water. A deeper frown tugged at the corners of his mouth as he watched ripples form in the liquid as your hand shook. Attempting to stabilize your hold only seemed to make it worse. He reached out, his intention to help you drink. Before he could, you popped both pills in your mouth and grasped at the cup with both hands as you brought the rim to your lips, watching his arm fall dejectedly back to his sides. Even the smooth gel coating went down rough, feeling more like two sharp stones scraping the inside of your esophagus. With your nose more stopped up than usual, by the time you were done drinking you were gasping for air, resulting in coughs again, hard enough to nearly make you gag. Lucifer took the cup from you before you could drop it, settling it on your nightstand. You were bowled over, tears streaming from your eyes. Rare panic crossed over Lucifer’s face, rubbing your back till the coughing fit came to an end. He took a deep inhale once it was over. Then he placed his touch over your forehead again, his thumb gently rubbing against your temple. When he retracted, you nearly let a little moan betray your feelings. You’re supposed to be independent, you reminded yourself. Lucifer shifted in his seat a bit, brandishing another item from his pockets. “We got one of these things as well,” he explained, taking the little item between his fingers and squinting to better study it. “He said it would be useful in monitoring your temperature, but...he failed to explain how it worked.”

If you were feeling even just a bit better, you would’ve laughed. Lucifer took the thermometer and pointed the end towards your forehead, his eyebrows raised as he waited for something to happen, only to scowl when nothing did. You let a similar cocky expression coat your face as he was the one to struggle with something so simple this time. If only he knew he had the right idea but the wrong type. He’d gotten one of the older fashioned versions. “This kind goes under my tongue,” you explained.

“Really?” He hummed. “How strange. Seems...messy.” He held the end close to your mouth, his face showing no signs of amusement this time as he waited. You hesitated, your heart beating faster at the emotions swelling in your chest. Independent, independent, independent, you repeated in your mind. Only, you’d caught him in a very impatient mood. With his other hand, he cupped it around your chin, carefully pulling your jaw down till he could slip the end of the thermometer under your tongue. You pressed your lips back together, too embarrassed to look him in the eyes. The small device beeped once it got its reading. Lucifer pulled it out and brought it back towards him. “101.4” He ran a frustrated hand through his hair before settling the thermometer down, attempting to guide your body back down in a lying position.

You stopped him, grabbing his wrist, eyes focusing on anything other than his face. “You don’t...have to do this.”

He entertained you, fully capable of pushing you down should he desire it, but he let you keep him in your grasp. His eyes narrowed. “What thing in particular are you talking about?”

Taking as deep of a breath your lungs would allow, you corrected yourself. “You don’t have to take care of me, I mean.” Words strained and cracking, they did little to convince the demon. “I’m well enough to take care of myself. Trust me, I’ve done it plenty before.”

Distrustful and discouraged, he stiffened, tugging his wrist away. “Be that as it may, while you are down here you are my responsibility. It is part of my duty to ensure you are safe and well looked after. Do you expect me to just walk away from my role?”

You’ll admit, it wasn’t very rational, but something other than the fever in you burned. “I’m not an assignment to be written off, Lucifer.”

“You know I didn’t mean that.” His crimson eyes looked down at you for a moment, the air silent between you save for the faint rattling in your chest. Eventually, he spoke back up, the previous forbidding expression gave way to a small smile. He closed his eyes and chuckled a little, taking you aback. “When did you ever get so prideful? Is it too bold to assume it’s my doing?” Then his hand moved forward, unbothered by your past attempt to push him away. He brushed sticky strands of hair away from your face. “If you truly don’t want me here, I will leave.” Your chest seemed to flutter at his words. It wasn’t that you...didn’t want him there. It was that you did. Almost too much. If there was anything you didn’t want, it was to be a hindrance. You knew how busy Lucifer was. His trip to the human world had probably already doubled his workload, and if you were right they’d all skipped classes for your sake, and- “MC.” He cupped your face, the look on his face told you that he knew everything you were thinking. “Not worrying about anything else, not overthinking it, do you want me here, yes or no? A simple question and two simple options.”

“I…” You knew the answer, and he did too, trying to hold back his amusement until he could hear the answer for himself. “If...you...want to.”

He shook his head in a defeated way. “You’re incorrigible, you know that don’t you?” With your acceptance, he took your shoulders, letting you lie down. He took the rag that had fallen off to the side, gently brushing it across your face. Under your eyes, over your cheekbones, under your chin. Then he leaned forward, his upper body resting against your bed, his head propped up under one of his hands. He gazed at you, tracing your jawline with his knuckle. The skin across his cheeks turned a light pink. “Of course I want to be with you. Not a moment goes by that I don’t desire to be at your side.”

The fast acting medicine and the fact that you’d been so distracted by his peaceful touch, you’d totally missed what he’d told you. “Hm?” You sleepily hummed, too focused on how close his body was to yours.

“Nothing,” he mused, making sure you were secure under the covers. “I’ll tell you once you’ve recovered. Sleep now.”

The muscles in your body slowly woke you up, screaming at you to change positions after having slept like a stone for Diavolo-knows how long. Eyes still closed, sleep still foggy on your mind, you turned over in bed. However, even with the smallest amount of alertness you possessed, you were very aware of how...generally upsetting your body felt. Soon it was all you could focus on, forcing you awake. Groaning, mourning the comfort of sleep, you slowly stretched out your weary legs. Your feet pressed against a foreign lump in your bed.

Mammon shot up, uncurling himself from the foot of your bed as he apparently woke up from a nap. “MC!” He crawled forward, placing both of his hands on the side of your face. “How ya feeling?” His sudden energy left you a bit winded, still trying to comprehend him caressing your face so tenderly. He let his arms drop to your shoulders. You shifted under his gaze, shaking your head.

“Like garbage…” Hot, sweaty, gross, you felt uncomfortable in your own skin. Mammon frowned, his blue eyes wide and shimmery. He resembled a puppy for just a second, observing your face for any sort of hope that by some miracle you’d fully recovered. When he saw you were still the worst for wear, he sighed, grabbing the covers around you and tucking it against your legs. Only, the blanket wasn’t one that you owned. Running your hands over the fabric, you noticed that this was one of Lucifer’s blankets. It was lighter and cooler than the blanket you had on before. You took in the rest of your room for a moment, noticing more than one thing out of place. Mammon had been resting on one of Belphie’s pillows, one of his new expensive ones. In fact the pillow you had been sleeping on was replaced with one of Sloth’s. On your nightstand, near your box of medicine and a box of tissues was a little diffuser, one you recognized as Asmo’s. A small plume of steam flushed out of the top, a mild comforting scent spreading throughout the space. A book that wasn’t yours, a replica of some sword draped over your table, and a number of other things that had never been between your walls before were littered here and there. You tilted your head. “Where did these things come from?” You wondered.

Mammon lowered his eyelids, his hands on his hips as he settled into a more comfortable seating position beside you. “Listen, my hands get grabby sometimes when I get anxious.”

You simply blinked at him. “You were worried?”

His sincere expression changed as he frowned, pink touching his cheeks as he shook his head. “W-well of course! Lucifer would make sure I never saw a lick of Grimm again if something happened to you…” His voice turned to a lower mumble. “And what, you thought I wouldn’t be worried after watching you take a spill like that? Had me thinking you’d bit the dust for a second!” His eyes flickered around the room as if he was making sure you two were truly alone. Then he leaned past you, fluffing up the pillow you had been laying on. As he straightened, he pressed his hand against your forehead, his body temperature much warmer than Lucifer’s. “Never make me that worried again, yeah? I...You see...Just don’t, okay?”

You hummed an affirming tone, nodding, a small smile creeping across your mouth. Then after the moment had passed, you shifted in your spot. You felt disgusting even after all that effort to take a shower this morning. Lucifer did say not to move too much, but right now you wanted to be clean more than anything. Pushing back the blankets encouraged a similar reaction to Lucifer’s earlier.

“Oi! What do you think you’re doing?!” Mammon scurried to his feet, standing in front of you with his arms wide to block you from moving, even though you had yet to even leave the bed. “Bed rest means staying in bed last I checked!”

“Please, Mammon, I just want to take a shower, I’m grimy and gross. I feel like an over-steamed dumpling.”

“Don’t let Beel hear you say that.” You managed to stand up, but your sense of balance left much to be desired. On instinct you ended up grabbing Mammon’s shoulders to keep from falling over. “Alright, nuh uh, you can barely move! What if you end up falling and cracking that head of yours open, huh?” Your mind was brought back to your morning mishap and near tumble in the shower from before. “You’re lucky you didn’t injure yourself too badly earlier!”

Your eyes widened. “H-how did you know about that? I don’t remember telling anyone.”

His eyebrows raised. “I’m talking about the dining hall, dummy. But now that you’ve let that little detail slip there’s not any chance I’ll let you go now! No way.” He put one arm under yours to keep you steady, ready to keep you back in bed for good.

Gathering up what little energy you had, you took several deep breaths, gently pushing yourself away from his body until you were standing on your own, just barely stable. “Mammon, please?” It had been your goal up until now to look as far from pathetic as possible, yet now you poured all that into your expression, eyes pleading, head tilted a bit to the side.

He squirmed. “Tch, you think you can do whatever you want just by giving me some puppy-eyes? Who do you think I am?”

“Fine,” you grumbled. “I bet Asmo would let me take a shower. Maybe I should call him and have him take care of me instead.”

“Asmo?! I...you...fine! But I’m c-coming with you, to make sure you stay safe and all.”

You lowered your eyes at him. “You can stay outside the bathroom.”

“I’m not payin’ for a busted door if I need to break in. I’m going inside! I’ll just turn around or somthin’.”

He stared you down with a nature stubborn enough to match your own. In your state now, you had little time to squabble. “Fine.” You started walking, leaning against bits of furniture to keep you steady. Acting rather gentlemanly, Mammon rushed ahead of you to open your door. Once he did, he took your arm tucked against his in a sort of escorting fashion. Saying nothing, you both took steady silent steps to the bathroom. You were immensely pleased to find it unoccupied, leaving Mammon’s side to step in. Like he promised he would, he followed you inside, shutting the door before his cheeks turned dark with embarrassment. He turned, parking himself in a corner with his face to the wall.

“I-I’ll be right here in case something happens, alright?” For him to come this far for you was...The added heat rushing through your body only caused you to feel worse, so you flicked on the water to heat up as you stripped. As you were taking off your pants, balancing on one leg, you teetered to the side, nearly falling. The tub right next to you served as your saving grace. You panted, cursing at yourself for being so clumsy. “You alright?!” Mammon clasped his hands over his face before turning around. “MC?” Riddled with nervous anxiety, he danced back and forth on his feet.

“I’m okay,” you wheezed. Just barely. You planted your foot against the fabric of your pants, tugging your other leg out. “Just keep looking at that wall.” You questioned the idea of him being in here at first, but now you were beginning to have little trust in yourself. What if you did collapse, locked, exposed inside an empty room till someone came looking for you? You shuddered. Climbing into the shower, you pulled the curtains across the rod until you were completely concealed. You let out a breath of relief as the steam once again cleared up your airways, the pressure building up in your head loosening. Shutting your eyes, you let the water wash over you, cleaning off the sticky sweat that had clung to your body. You simply stood there for a few moments, appreciating the serenity. Then you figured it would be best to get yourself clean while you had the capacity to. Reaching down for the soaps you used, you washed your hair and vigorously scrubbed down your body, envisioning all the germs swirling down the drain. Although by the time you were done, you became aware of the fact that you might’ve made the water a bit too hot, and you might’ve once again pushed yourself a little too far. Nausea came along with the dizziness, the floor losing it’s feeling of solidity. After you turned the water off, you tore the shower curtain back, stepping onto the bathroom mat.

“You done?” Mammon asked. Right now, all you could do was grunt in response. The small burst of energy you possessed had plummeted. You bypassed the towels and straight for your clothes. Only, the clothes you had been wearing previously were gone. On cue, Mammon explained. “Oh I got you some pajamas. Not good to be lying in those same clothes all day, besides, I got you something comfier.” Folded up on the floor by the tub were a comfortable pair of your pajamas. Pushing aside your humiliation, you picked up the “pajamas” he’d picked out for you. One of your shorts and...one of his t-shirts. It was one he had bought on a whim, much like most of his other purchases. Merch from an action movie you and him had watched in the theaters a while ago. He loved this thing. You could only stare at it for a few seconds. Mammon was right, these would be much nicer to sleep in.

With a meek voice you started slipping into the new outfit, still dripping. “T-thank you.” You had hardly finished poking your head through the shirt before your knees began to tremble. Your head felt foggy, your mind threatening to slip. “M-Mammon,” you gulped, your voice shaking.

He spun around, eyes squeezed shut. “What? What is it? Are you bleeding? Are you hurt? Are you dressed? Can I look?” As soon as you ‘mm-hm’ed he flashed his eyes open, took in the sight of your shuddering frame before hurrying over to you. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head for a moment, the world disappearing as you plummeted to the floor. You woke up in his arms hardly a few seconds after your fainting spell. Held tightly against his body, he wrapped his limbs around you, supporting you to keep you upright. “Hey, hey!” His voice shook as he squeezed you. “MC!”

“ ‘s too...hot.”

“Stupid human…” He muttered, his rugged tone falling short. “And you’re still drenched! Are you trying to make yourself even worse?” When his sharp remarks were met with your silence, he pulled you closer. “Ah...Really not good, huh?” He asked softly, one of his hands rubbing your back. You could only slowly shake your head. “Let’s get you back to bed, eh?” He brushed some damp hair away from your face before he dragged you out the door, his distress growing ever more visible the more you seemed to slump harder against him. It felt like an eternity inching back to your room, flopping facedown onto your bed as soon as it was in your sights. The mattress bobbed up and down, the movement surprisingly soothing, almost lulling your body to a light sleep right then and there. “Alright, come on. It’ll do you no good to fall asleep like that.” Mammon helped lift you up, letting you settle your head against his body, arms wrapped around his neck as he worked to get you back under the covers. He tucked you in, moving about the room nervously the less responsive you became. Shutting your eyes to conserve some energy, you listened to him curse under his breath, grumbling to himself about “fragile humans”. At some point, a dry fabric came into contact with the top of your head. You were pushed slightly to make some space for him to sit down. He adjusted you till your head was in his lap, the fabric massaging against your wet hair. “Stupid human…” He repeated, softly scrubbing the towel against your scalp. “Why’d you have to go and get yourself sick, huh?”

“...didn’t...mean to...I’m sorry…”

The motions across your head stopped, then you felt the back of his hand stroke against your cheek. “Now don’t sound like that...Do you know how much it hurts me to see ya like this?” He paused and then resumed ensuring your hair was as dry as he could get it. “Don’t you worry, the Great Mammon will be right here for you till you feel better, alright?” His voice sounded strained. “So ya better get better…” You cracked your eyes open, pushing yourself up. “What’re you doing? I-“ He quickly cut himself off as soon as you settled yourself between his legs, head against his chest. You could hear his throat casually gasp for breath. His nose came down to nestle against the top of your head, his arms dropping the towel, instead wrapping around your body. “Don’t do this for anyone but me, ya hear? Only I...only I want to take care of you like this.” He pulled the blanket up around the both of you, his soft breaths growing deeper and deeper. Eventually you both fell asleep.

Your mind was flooded with more fever dreams, clips and scenes of moments your conscious mind wouldn’t even know how to explain. It blurred the line between what was real and what was simply your imagination, so in the moment, when you were disturbed from your sleep, you didn’t even react. Your body was moved, flipped over, weightless, moved from the soft surface you were on to something firmer. You could only process it for a mere second before you were plunged back into a nonsensical plot your frayed mind came up with. After what felt like some time, you were just barely awoken again when harsh and hushed whispers buzzed in your ears.

“They shouldn’t be down here!”

“So cute! I mean, poor thing.”

“Are they still asleep?”

“Take them back.”

Once you realized that this was real, you slowly became aware of more things around you. As tired numbness left your limbs, you felt your arms pinned against your body, something around you constricted your movement. Panic struck you for only just a second, feeling that your blanket was simply wrapped around your body. You figured in your restless state you must’ve trapped yourself inside it. An involuntary groan escaped your mouth as you squirmed a little, moving your feet in an attempt to feel an escape.

Something outside of you moved you, tugging you tighter against something firm, a pressure rubbing circles into your back. It soothed you enough to keep you from struggling, but you were steadily waking up. The “wall” you were against vibrated as a deep voice rumbled out of it. “I just thought...it wouldn’t feel like a family dinner without them.” Your body was adjusted again, lifted to be propped up against what you now understood was a torso. One strong arm kept you still, draped against your back.

“S-surely you can’t hold them and eat at the same time, Beel,” someone muttered. “Why don’t you let your big bro hold em?”

The body holding you tightened around you, shielding you. “No.”

“Don’t underestimate him.”

“Should we wake them up?”

“Don’t humans heal faster when they sleep?”

Someone else let out an exhausted breath. “Fine, but they’re to be put back in bed once you’re done.”

The chest your head was against hummed with satisfaction. “Got it.” Soon, quiet but eager eating noises could be heard outside your muffled prison. If you connected the dots correctly, you were resting against Beel who had brought you down to dinner while you had been asleep. Was this a brief glance into what Belphie felt like? Albeit with more comfort and less...pain. Although he’d probably beg to differ. Right now, you couldn’t even pinpoint where the source of your suffering was coming from. It just seemed to be...all over, even down to the tips of your fingers. Even if you had wanted to move, you didn’t have the energy for it, so despite being almost wide awake at this point, you stayed in place. You tried to focus on anything else to keep your mind off the aching. Beel’s heart sounded like a distant drum. Burying your face closer against his body, you let out a small whimper, focusing on the melodic thumping of his healthy heart. You could even hear the pace speed up as your cheek pressed up against him.

“Beel, you alright?”

The sound of eating stopped, and a clink of something metallic against glass sounded before a second arm enveloped you, a hand settled at the back of your head. “I’ll eat in a little bit,” Beel whispered.

“In a--”

“Shhhh! Shut up, Mammon!”

“I mean…” The voice returned to barely audible. “Whadda sayin’ ‘in a bit’? You’re not sick again are ya?” Beel didn’t grace anyone with a response. You were gently squeezed in his hug, a weight coming down on top of your head, presumably his chin. The hand behind your head moved to the space between your shoulder blades, moving up and down in rhythmic strokes along your spine. It was uncanny, you thought, how he almost immediately knew how desperate you were for some comfort. Or maybe he was just perceptive like that. If anyone would be, it would be Beel.

“How are they feeling?” Someone asked.

Cooler air poured against your face as the space left for you to breathe was made wider. Light from the dining hall illuminated outside your eyelids. Beel’s hand pressed against your forehead, moving down to cup your cheeks. Out of everyone, he always ran the warmest, bordering on nearly being a walking furnace. And yet even he moaned in unease, his stomach groaning alongside him in worry. “Still too hot,” he announced. You allowed yourself to flicker your eyes open, looking up at him just as he moved his hand away. Both his eyebrows raised in surprise before he quickly frowned. “Did I wake you up? Sorry.” You figured that now that everyone knew you were up, it would be time to move. Sitting up straighter in your spot, you wiggled one of your arms out of your cocoon, pulling the fabric of your blanket off your head, letting it settle around your waist. You rubbed spots out from your vision, blinking as you soaked in the sight of the room.

Asmo politely dabbed at the corners of his mouth with a napkin, settling it back in his lap before addressing you with the sweetest pair of eyes. “Good evening, darling! How’re you feeling?”

You had half of a mind to try to play the “I’m fine” card, but with your fit with Satan and fainting scare with Mammon, it would be no use to even try to pretend you were fine. So you didn’t see the harm in being honest. “Like I’ve been to hell and back.”

“You are in hell,” Belphie quipped.

“You know what I mean.” You turned your head and glanced up, your heart pounding more prominently when you once again realized just how big Beel was compared to you, an otherworldly size. Sweeping away your embarrassment, you started tugging at the blanket to free your legs, moving to leave his lap. “Sorry, Beel.”

His hand grabbed one of your wrists. “What do you mean?” He tugged at you, repositioning you firmer in his lap. “You didn’t do anything.” His beautiful amethyst irises stared right into yours. “I wanted you here. Meals aren’t the same without you.” He pat the top of your head, letting his fingers scratch gently into your scalp. In most situations, you’d find your open vulnerability to be embarrassing, but right now you couldn’t care less. You leaned back into him, nestling your nose into his chest, using his body to block out the light. Beel gripped the blanket and pulled it back up to settle around your shoulders.

“Speaking of meals,” Lucifer started. “It’s about time MC had something to eat.”

Satan spoke up. “Do we even have anything decent enough for sick humans to have?” The brothers went back and forth for a while, bringing recommendations hypothetically to the table about what would be best for you.

“Belphie knows the most about humans, what do you think?” Beel wondered.

A lone monotone hum rang out for a moment. “I think it was stew or something like that.”

A strange bout of irritation drilled in you. You turned your head, addressing the group. “You know you could just ask the human right here. I might be sick but I’m not completely helpless.”

Brusque tones usually granted you grating glares, but even Lucifer seemed to give you a pass. “So?” The eldest questioned. “Tell us what you need and we can get it for you.”

Something about that knocked the rebellious wind out of you. You lowered your head a bit and sighed. “Don’t even worry about it, I’m not hungry anyway.” A bold statement to claim whilst sitting in the lap of Gluttony.

Shaking you lightly, Beel squinted at you. “You’ve barely eaten all day.” The expression on his face turned Lucifer levels of stern. It wasn’t an appearance he took too often. Even now you knew this was a losing battle. A flash of a memory popped up in your mind, one of when Beel had been sick. You pressed your lips together into a thin line.

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not.”

“Beel--”

“MC. Eat.” His flat tone trembled throughout his body, sending a shudder through you. Lucifer was always strict, so it never caught you off guard, not anymore. But when Beel got this way it pierced through everyone in the room. As if they’d been the one commanded, everyone took a single bite of their meal.

You gave in, your stature shrinking. “Fine...something light then. Soup’s fine. I’ll go get some…”

Beel’s arms wrapped around you again, keeping you to him. “No you won’t. Levi.”

The third-born almost yelped, sinking down into his seat before stuttering. “S-sure, I-I’ll get it…” As he headed to the kitchen you could hear him grumble. “Of course he had to pick me. Why me? It’s always me…” You felt a bit sorry for the otaku as he slunk away. In fact you almost felt sorry for everyone in the room. Even just alluding to the skip of a meal had Beel suddenly tense, on alert. He had you held against him in a guarded manner, his torso bent forward to lean over what he could of yours. He didn’t settle back down till Levi came back in a handful of minutes later, resting a bowl of soup in front of you. It was of human origins you assumed, it looked like regular chicken noodle. The aroma had bits of nostalgia bubble within you. And now that it was here, you hated to admit that you actually were hungry.

You reached over to try to grab a spoon, falling just a bit short of the table’s edge. Beel’s arms were admittedly much longer than yours, not needing to sit as close as you usually did. Beel grasped a clean utensil for you, getting a decent portion of stock in it’s dip. He held his other hand under the spoon to make sure he didn’t spill any, then he brought it over to you. Did you try to deny it? Maybe a little, but Beel’s spine-chilling glower had you reconsider. You opened your mouth and let him feed you. The hot broth slid down your sore throat easily, relieving some of the pain. As it warmed you up from the inside, Beel finally went back to smiling, everyone breathing in relief. “See, doesn’t it make you feel better?” Beel brought a new spoonful to your lips.

You swallowed again and admittedly nodded. “A bit.”

Out of the blue, Beel brought his face down, planting a gentle kiss to the top of your head. Some of his siblings gasped, but if the demon of gluttony heard it, he pretended he hadn’t. His free hand went back to rubbing your back, and you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t nice, the many sensations driving some of the pain from your mind. “Good,” Beel beamed. “Remember, your body needs fuel to keep going.”

“I know…” The parallel between now and when he had been sick was almost perfect. Beel took the bowl in his hands, bringing it over to settle in your lap, keeping it steady in his hold. “Isn’t it hot?” You asked, worried he’d burn his skin.

“Not to me,” he assured you.

You sighed, taking the spoon from him so you could eat yourself. “Thank you for always looking out for me, Beel.”

You expected him to be pleased, but he quickly turned downcast. “I couldn’t protect you from this.” Heart breaking, all you could do was stare down into your lap, watching the broth gently swirl in the bowl. This had mostly been your fault. If you had done something just a bit differently, maybe…

“No, Beel, that wasn’t your fault,” Belphie spoke up, pushing his plate with his leftovers on it closer to his twin to finish. “Besides, it’s your job now to take care of MC now more than ever, right?”

Beel turned his head away from the food, peering down at you in his lap. He nodded once, bringing his head down to press his forehead to yours. “You’re right. Sick or not, I’ll always watch over them.”

After dinner, Beel carried you back up to bed, reluctant to let you be free of his arms, but he managed. After giving you one last once-over and another little kiss to your temple, he hurried back down to the dining hall. After all, he was far from having his fill of food. Lucifer had followed the two of you inside, taking your temperature once more. 100.7, still higher than he’d prefer it to be, but glad to discover it had gone down even if just by a hair. He allowed you to take some medicine and urged you to get some more rest. Flicking the light off, he wished you sweet dreams before he left, torn away from you by work he couldn’t ignore. Although, even with the comfort of your bed and the satisfying feeling of something warm in your belly, for the first time, slumber eluded you. It wasn’t that you weren’t tired--exhaustion might as well have been your permanent state at this point--but shutting your mind off, drifting away into peaceful bliss didn’t seem like an option right now.

You spent a few hours on your D.D.D. scrolling through posts and web-pages, anything to keep you occupied. Although, that eventually bored you after a while. You sat up, trying to not let the loneliness of your empty room consume you. Had everyone gone to bed already? Had you already gotten used to falling asleep with someone beside you? That couldn’t be the case, right? You slowly got out from under your covers, padding over to the door. Maybe if you walked around the House of Lamentation enough, you’d be able to go to bed. You were feeling a bit better, capable of moving around on your own at the very least. You entered the empty hallway, the midnight moon rays creeping across the rug settled across the stone floor. The branches outside the windows cast twisted shadows across the corridor. Some people might’ve found it dreadful, but whether it was your own stranger tastes or the fact that you’d been down here so long, you found it to be serene in a mystical sort of way.

Drifting through the halls like a weary ghost patrolling the perimeter, you wandered past each of the brother’s rooms. The house was surprisingly still. Before you knew it, you ended up in the music room. Shifting your feet towards the gorgeous ebony piano, your fingers brushed lightly over the ivory keys. Pushing down a low B, the note reverberated through the room, your skin tingling at the broken silence. It quenched some of your boredom. So you pushed another one, the lowest note this time, the deep tone rumbling through you.

“Having fun are we?”

You jumped, every hair across your body standing up on end. Swirling around, you met a pair of ruby eyes in the shadows. A string of curses left your lips. “What in hell’s name are you doing, Lucifer? Nearly scared me to death…” You pressed a hand to your beating chest, adrenaline coursing through your veins. You sunk to your knees, the wind knocked out of you.

He stepped further into the light, arms crossed, almost fuming. “I could ask you the same question. Once again I have to wonder, what are you doing out of bed? Are you that determined not to recover, is that it?” Hair slightly messy, well-tailored pajamas barely creased, you figured he must’ve just gotten out of bed, possibly disturbed before he could fall asleep. It would explain the death glare he was giving you.

“I...couldn’t sleep,” you answered truthfully, followed by an innocent little shrug.

With two fingers, he pinched at the bridge of his nose. “And so Levi just let you waltz around on your own?”

You tilted your head. “Levi?”

Something dawned on him with your confused question. A terrifying smile arched over his face, the corners twitching as the small amount of light in the room was snuffed out by his menacing aura. “Leviathan…” Yelping at the sudden movement, Lucifer hoisted you over one of his shoulders, gliding across the floor at a ridiculous pace until he was in front of Levi’s room. You wiggled, beating a gentle fist against Lucifer’s back.

“Let me down!”

He let you slide off of him, settling you back on your feet, but he quickly grasped one of your hands to keep you to his side. Despite his furious demeanor, he gently knocked on the door, waiting for approximately two seconds before knocking harder. “Levi!”

You heard the otaku approach his door before he swung it open. “What?! I’m in the middle of a very important raid! What could you possibly need--” The entrance to the room cracked open, Levi sticking his head out before all the color drained from his face. The tangerine hue of his eyes flickering from you to his older brother, the demon with paper-thin patience. Levi gulped, the little bump in his throat bobbing.

“Forgive me if I’m wrong, but didn’t I inform you that you would be keeping an eye on MC tonight?” The higher lilt in his question was laced with hostility. “Or maybe I didn’t make myself clear.” You felt a pang of guilt for the demon of envy.

“Lucifer,” you urged, tugging at his hand which kept you in a vice grip. “I’ll go back to bed, it’s not an issue.” He was ready to blow a gasket, the weariness of dealing with work and keeping his brother’s shenanigans at bay without your assistance clearly was affecting him. Who knew he’d come to depend on you this much? You reached up, rubbing his shoulder with the sweetest look you could come up with. “Please, don’t be angry.”

Shutting his eyes, squeezing your hand, he gave himself time to breathe. “MC, rest. Levi, take care of them. And no, I’m not asking.” The dark circles under Lucifer’s eyes almost seemed to run blacker, his irises duller than they should’ve been.

“Hey, don’t worry about me,” you comforted him. “Go get some sleep yourself.”

His shoulders sagged ever so slightly. “The sick shouldn't be fussing over the hale and whole, you know, but I will. I shall see you tomorrow.” He brought your hand up, kissing it before he let it go. “And, Levi.” The demon of envy flinched, hoping that he’d been forgotten. “I’ll see you tomorrow as well.”

Levi hung his head low as his older brother walked away, preemptively sniffling at his possible doom. “...and my raid is ruined…T-this is just the worst.” You were a bit sorry for Levi for being thrown at you like this, but you couldn’t help but wonder in the back of your mind if he...had forgotten about you. You watched the outline of Lucifer disappear into the darkness before you shivered. The temperature inside the house was dropping. “Huh?” Levi snapped out of his pitiful thoughts. “Are you-are you cold?”

“A little…”

“O-oh, I guess...maybe...Would it be alright if you stayed in my room tonight?” His stance shifted behind his door, anxiously moving his gaze around to keep from making direct eye contact with you.

Sighing, you nodded. After all, with the adrenaline crash, you doubted you had energy left to walk back to your room. “Sure.”

He let you in, shutting the door behind you and locking it with a magical charm to keep the riff-raff out. He scurried over to his tub-bed, pulling out some random plush collectibles, and letting them rest against the floor for now. He spun on his feet for a moment, taking in his room before bringing his thumb up to bite on the nail of it. “Y-you can stay anywhere, I have some blankets I guess...Gah! Why did Lucifer have to make me watch you?” The heart in your chest sank a bit, and you lowered your head, a small “oh” leaving your lips. Clutching his hair, Levi immediately regretted what he said. “No! No no no no, that’s-that’s not what I-I-I--” He stuttered for a good while, unable to grasp proper control of his tongue. “Wait, wait!” Taking a moment to collect his thoughts, he picked up one last Ruri-Chan plush from the bed, covering part of his face with it. “I just...I don’t remember the last time I took care of someone sick…Knowing me, I-I’ll somehow make you worse! What-what if I’m forced to make a split second decision that could be the-the difference between life and death?! I’ll end up killing you! Living the rest of my life in isolated drunken regret!”

He quickly spiraled down a slippery slope of what-ifs, a dramatic fantasy playing out before him where he’d been cast out of the Devildom as your murderer, a disgusting vagabond, living on wildberries and wildlife with naught but his loneliness and shadow to keep him company. His rising anxiety was making him hyperventilate. You had to come over to him, gently take his shoulders and shake him slightly, dragging him back to reality. “Levi, I highly, highly doubt it will come to that. When Lucifer means ‘take care of me’ he mostly means making sure I have what I need.” You gave the sides of his arms a little rub.

“But I don’t know what you need!”

“Well, what I need right now is for you to calm down, first off,” you told him, dropping your hands back to your sides, gripping the end of the tub. Climbing into his bed had never really been an issue before, but hoisting yourself over the edge proved difficult a task. You felt his shaky hands come under your arms, hoisting you enough till you could sink yourself into his nest of pillows. You grinned, thanking him as you reached up to rub the top of his head. “See? Stuff like that, nothing too difficult. Fetch quests and escort missions. Easy mode. I’ll be here, just do your own thing.”

That seemed to ease him enough. He gripped one of his blankets and pulled it over you, moving back over to his desk. Muttering about the raid, he clacked at the keys, his mood steadily improving the more he lost himself in the world of gaming. You felt at the fabric of your pants, remembering with a small moan that they didn’t have pockets...meaning you’d left your D.D.D. in your room. Figures, you thought. So, in your last ditch effort to stay entertained, you moved Levi’s pillows around, making a small wall to prop yourself against, peering over the top of the basin to stare at his screen. You watched his character move around, fighting random enemies. He was completely absorbed, lightly talking to himself as he moved along, humming the victory theme anytime a quest was completed. At one point, he was paying too much attention to a beautifully fleshed out character model to notice what they were telling him, information that he needed to know but missed out on. After that, he was sent towards a boss that ended up instantly killing him when it finished charging up its “claymore of chaos’ move. Levi tried one more time, then three more times, and then about twenty. “What the heck?! How am I supposed to beat you?!” Levi finally shouted, pushing himself slightly away from his desk.

Speaking up for the first time in a few hours, you shared with him the information he missed. “You’re supposed to use your Mystical Missile spell.”

He jumped, almost falling out of his chair. “I thought you were asleep!”

“I still can’t sleep…I don’t know why.” You pulled your blanket tighter around you, peeking at him from your spot. A blush ran over his cheeks, rubbing the back of his head.

“Oh...Really? Mystical Missile? But it’s a trashy beginner spell.”

“That NPC lady said it would work, I dunno.” You shrugged. “Try it out, it can’t hurt.”

So he did, removing one of his high level skills to equip the basic one. Severely doubting success, he entered the boss arena again. It was admittedly tense, keeping you both on the edge of your seat. Once “claymore of chaos” was building, Levi let the spell fly towards him. The boss staggered, a crack forming in it’s armor. “It worked!” He shouted, yelping as a new flurry of enemy spells flew towards his character. If it was entertainment you were looking for, you found it, cheering him on as he hunched over, focused on his every move. Once it went down, you both whooped and cheered. It had been a bit too much for your lungs, dissolving into some coughs. Levi rushed to his feet, rubbing your back. “You okay?”

You nodded, letting your body shudder with a few more hacks till it was done. Voice more hoarse than before, you still smiled at him. “You did it!”

A laugh bubbled out of him. “Victory! Dun dun dun! Legendary item acquired!” Then his expression fell for a second. “Have you just been sitting there, watching me the whole time?” You nodded. He gripped one of his hoodie sleeves. “Would you rather do something...together?”

You brightened. “Sure!”

Giddy, he hurried over to the computer, picking up his loot before saving the game, closing the program. “If you’re in the mood for watching something, how about this new anime I found? I’m only a few episodes in, but I can start over! It’s called ‘I Transferred To A New School, But Everyone There Is Part Of The Elite, So I Have To Try And Keep Up With My Classmates Despite Me Being Normal, But I Accidentally Fooled The School Into Thinking I’m A Long Lost Heir To A Forgotten Throne’.”

Blinking, you stared at him. “You lost me at Elite.” Why the Devildom had anime with titles the length of chapters, you’d never know.

“It’s good! I promise!” He shifted his monitor so you could see it from your spot easier, turning the anime on with an elated aura, much nicer than the gloom-and-doom one from earlier. This was the Levi you loved to see, the one you tried to cherish as much as you could. He sat in his chair, scooting back till he was beside you so you could watch it together. It was a cute anime, something mostly a slice of life, a normal main character in a school setting surrounded by powerful beings, the plot moved forward with magical shenanigans...something about it sounded familiar. One of the episodes showed the main character fallen ill under some strange circumstance, their roommate they stayed with flustered but determined to take care of them. The friend--and obvious love interest--asked if he could hold the protagonist’s hand. Levi made a little noise. “MC, c-can I hold your hand? I mean, if that’s super weird don’t even listen to me because who would even want to hold hands with me anyway and--”

“Sure,” you smiled, reaching your hand out from the blanket a little.

He hesitated for a second and then took it, resuming to watch the show. Much to your amusement, any move the character made, he made as well, taking it as if it were some sort of guide. He brushed the hair from your face, made sure the blanket was tucked gently around you, ensured you were comfortable. Then, the friend in the show made a bold move, snuggling next to the main character as they both fell asleep. Levi went stiff, becoming extremely flustered. You had to admit, the concept was...enticing, and you almost leapt at any opportunity to tease envy. You tugged at his hand, making him look at you with your arms outstretched. If this had been an anime, he would’ve collapsed, his soul flying from his mouth. But even Levi couldn’t resist the temptation. He stepped into his bed, slowly, warily at first. He let you take him into your arms, wrapping his own body around you as you both squeezed together in the tub. “I...I...This is...a dream…”

You chuckled, settling your head on his chest, feeling his motoring heart pound in his chest. “Let’s watch some more, Levi.” Only, you hardly remembered anything after that. For shortly after he curled against you, the strange barrier keeping you awake completely collapsed. He had draped the blanket over you both, fidgeting with the hair at the nape of your neck. You must’ve turned your head against him, comforted enough by his presence to fall asleep.

“Medicine?”

“Right here.”

“Water?”

“You brought me like a gallon’s worth.”

“D.D.D.?”

“You can see it in my hands.”

Lucifer went down the list, the actual written list he’d come up. You sat in bed, trying hard not to blush and squirm under the many gazes in your room this morning. “Extra blankets?”

“I have everything and anything needed to last an entire week in solitary!” You shook your head, a little irate at each of them, but appreciating their concern all the same. Icepacks, blankets, snacks, water, bandages, and many other things were brought in your room in preparation. “You all are only going to a Student Council meeting, not off on some lengthy business trip.”

“Absolutely right!” Asmo shouted, sitting next to you in bed, hugging you to him and caressing your cheek against his. “It’s some stupid meeting anyway, which means one of us can stay can’t we?”

Every member of the household was already shouting reasons why they and they alone should have the opportunity to stay with you. Lucifer’s little vein above his eyebrow throbbed. “Enough!” The room went silent. “As much as I would love to permit myself to stay home,” he cleared his throat, “not a single one of us can miss today’s meeting. Which is why I’m taking every precaution. EDP?”

You gently pushed Asmo off of you, raising an eyebrow. The demon of lust pouted, stroking your head instead. “What’s an EDP?” You asked.

“An EDP is a short term we use for an Emergency Defense Pillar,” Satan explained. “A popular and fairly new little device in the Devildom, especially for lesser magic users or those who aren’t trained in combat.”

“I’m still at a loss,” you admitted. “Is it like a baton or something?”

Rummaging around in his pockets, Mammon brandished a small black object. It was cylindrical, about as big as a lighter, a glowing red button on the side. “I brought it! Now, let me teach you, human. If you’re being chased or cornered, this handy lil’ doodad is going to be essential if you wanna escape. You just push this little button here, and--”

Lucifer’s chest tightened. “Mammon, don’t!”

The second born pressed the button, his mistake just now clicking in his mind, chucking it a bit in front of him. Asmo grabbed you and tucked you against his chest, pushing your back to the wall while he shielded you with his body. Every other brother hit the floor, jumping away from the object. A huge pillar of fire sprouted from the object, swirling blue flames emitting intense heat as well as a roaring sound. It nearly burnt your eyes. Asmo tucked your head into his shoulder, waiting until the fire was suddenly sucked back into the small container, rattling against the floor. Your protector pulled away from you, letting you stare at the pitch black circle burnt into your ceiling and floor, a round chunk taken out of your carpet, some fibers still flickering. Lucifer came over and snuffed out the singed pieces with his shoe, the vein in his head more prominent. He was about to shout but you beat him to it. “That’s absolutely unnecessary! In what scenario would I need to use that?! Is there even a safety on that thing?!”

A little sheepish, Mammon picked himself back up off the floor. “Well, you’ve gotten the best visual example you can get. You’re welcome.”

“I don’t want it, someone take it with them,” you groaned. “What if I end up accidentally getting flame-broiled in my sleep?”

Beel closed his eyes. “Flame-broiled hell bats…”

Lucifer bent down and picked up the EDP from the floor. “Perhaps this is a bit too dangerous.”

“Glad we can see eye to eye on that one…” You tapped the screen of your D.D.D., noticing that the time to the meeting was rapidly approaching. “You guys have fifteen minutes! Stop worrying about me and get out of here!”

Many wide-eyed demons scrambled to get out your door, knowing that the punishment for being late was not something they wanted to risk. Even Lucifer was rushed, booking it out of your room. Then he popped his head in. “You’ll call if anything happens?”

“Yes.”

He left again, the door shutting. It burst back open, his overprotective nature coming to light. “You have your alerts on, right?”

You chuckled, you couldn’t prevent yourself from doing so. “Yes, mother hen, now go!” He growled, but this time left for good, the uproar from the group slowly fading away. Once more, you shook your head, staring at the charcoal colored circle against your ceiling. “They’re insane,” you stated aloud.

“Truly,” someone replied. You yelped, chucking the closest pillow at the sudden voice. Solomon caught it, laughing. “Sorry for startling you. The demons are gone, I’m assuming?” He walked back over, handing you your plushy ammo.

“They just left. Why are you here?” You took the pillow from him, settling it in your lap as you crossed your legs over your mattress.

He pulled an upset face. “Why do you sound so suspicious? I’m here to check up on you. I had to make sure those demons were taking care of you properly.” He grabbed a chair from your table, scooting up by the bedside. He spotted the hard-to-miss burns and sighed. “Maybe I should’ve gotten here sooner. Oh well, an easy fix. Spirits of twine and stone, turn back the time to whence this matter was well known, heed the Sorcerer Solomon!” Flowing restorative magic rushed over the floor and ceiling, soaking into the atoms, leaving it as perfect as it had been earlier. Actually, almost better than how it had been before. Not even the smell of burning remained. In a small flourish, he stretched out his hands. “Ta-da.”

“Thank you.” You couldn’t help but giggle at his theatrics. “And the brothers have been taking care of me just fine. I don’t have a fever anymore.”

He reached his hand out, thumb brushing across your face, he hummed to himself before pulling you gently, pressing his lips to your forehead. You gasped a little, covering your mouth as your face burned. He sat back, nodding. “You feel much better.” He caught your expression, trying to stifle a smirk. “Hm? I was simply taking your temperature.”

Composing yourself, you tightly gripped the pillow in your hands. “Kinda an old method, don’t you think?”

“I prefer traditional practices,” he shared. “But that wasn’t the main reason I came over.”

“Oh?” You’ll admit, at first the EDP had seemed utterly ridiculous, but in this dreaded scenario, you almost wished to have it in your hands. Solomon pushed back his cloak, reaching behind his back and pulling out a fresh steaming plate of food. Already you felt sweat bead across your face. “A-ah, how nice of Simeon to make me something.” It was more of a personal wish, although you knew that it wasn’t going to be the case.

“Not Simeon, actually. I made it!” He beamed, completely oblivious. “How long has it been since you’ve had a home-cooked human meal?”

“N-not too long ago actually, and-I-um-the brothers made sure to feed me before they left so-”

“Surely you can have a few bites, right?” He pleaded. “I made sure to add all kinds of ingredients I know have some healing properties, so I’m sure it’ll enhance the flavor. Here, no need to waste extra energy, let me feed you. Say ah.”

“MC!” The sound of someone frantically calling your name in the distance slowly brought you to. “MC!” Something snapped as you moved, pain coursing through your entire body. You opened your eyes, not able to see much through the leaves. Wait...leaves? The smell of earth and roses rushed to your nose. That and the thorns trapping you and piercing you were enough to tell you what you needed to know. You were somehow entangled in a rose bush. The voice sounded again, closer this time. “MC, where are you?!”

Audio recognition kicked in, able to place the voice. Tilting your head back, you put all the power you could into your shout. “Belphie!” There was silence for a while, and white hot panic settled in your stomach...or maybe that was. Oh that was right…

Suddenly the leaves were pulled back, Belphie’s head staring down at you. “This is new for you.”

You tried to move, but your clothes were stuck in the thorn’s clutches, not to mention any movement you made drove the bush’s claws deeper into your skin. “I…I think I’m stuck.”

“Wow, that really sucks for you.”

“Belphie!” You tried sitting up, a sharp pain in your cheek causing you to hiss, drawing in breath through your teeth. Something drifted down your cheek, the taste of bitter copper coming across your lips. Blood. “P-please help me.”

“I was only joking. Don’t move, you’ll make things worse.” He tugged at some of the branches, the disruption poking you some more. Tugging at your sleeve, he detangled your shoulder, working on your lower arm next.

“Ow, ow, ooooow,” you whined.

“Don’t be such a baby.” Leaning down a bit too far, one of the thorns pricked him right in the thumb. He cursed, threatening to leave you alone once you laughed. “You’re really scratched up…” He frowned as he gestured to many thin red scratches across your body. You whimpered again, reaching up at him to tug you free. Sloth kicked in, his impatience to take his time fluttered away. He basically flattened the bush with his feet, breaking the twigs stuck to you with his hands. His arms wrapped around your torso, tugging you up, the sound of some fabric tearing as he did. He sighed, taking you a few steps away from the bush before letting you slide past his arms, flopping to the soil. He came down to kneel beside you, grabbing thorns and leaves out of your hair, rubbing a thumb over the small wound on your cheek. “When you wonder why we worry about leaving you alone, this is why. How long have you been napping in bushes?”

“I…” A sudden chill overtook you, your stomach and the food...you remembered the food Solomon had fed you. The taste...torture. You could feel it in your throat.

“MC?” You pushed Belphie away, scrambling on your hands and knees to another unfortunate set of flora. Without nitty gritty details, let’s just say your body had the smart idea to not keep Solomon’s food in you any longer. Trembling, you coughed up the last of it, cold sweat dripping down your face. Belphie’s hands touched your back. “You’re not going to be sick on me, are you?” You didn’t respond to him, trying to catch your breath. He mumbled, pulling you into his lap. Covered in dirt and sweat, you curled into him, shivering. Then the both of you watched in slight horror as all the plants planted around your...expulsed poison all wilted at once, almost crumbling to dust. “Wicked father of demons…” Belphie breathed. “What the hell did you eat?”

You only needed to utter one word for him to understand everything entirely. “Solomon…”

“Dear Diavolo…I’m lucky to have found you alive.” He whipped his head around. “He’s not still here is he?”

You shook your head, rubbing at the saliva on your lips. “I don’t remember...I don’t remember leaving my room…I don’t remember…”

Working hard to get to his feet, he lifted you along with him. You wrapped your arms around his neck, your legs against his body, groaning into him. “Alright, I guess we’re doing this now.” He held onto you, sidestepping past the destroyed flora and towards the house. “I’m just telling you this now though, if Solomon is still here, I will leave you.”

Reaching up his neck, you grasped tightly onto some of his hairs. “I will drag you down with me.”

“Confident words for someone I’m carrying like a baby,” he snickered, but he let the witty back and forth drop as he entered the house. For a moment, he stood still, taking in the air of the place. “I think we’re good,” he announced, but continuing to take wary steps up the stairs. He picked up the pace in the hallways, sneaking away towards the familiar spiral staircase that led it’s way up to the attic. The doors he pushed open were heavy in more ways than one. Quietly shutting it behind the two of you, he headed over to the bed. A jolting ticklish pain raced down your body as Belphie jabbed his fingers against your waist. “Off, parasite.” You relinquished your grasp as fast as you could, flopping onto the attic mattress. You crawled up, sliding under the covers, planting your face into the nearest pillow. Right when you thought you were recovering, you were back to being bed-ridden. Belphie left you alone in silence for a minute. When he came back, you had to take a moment to realize he had ever been gone. He was stealthy like that. He dropped a small first-aid kit as well as a bottle of water on the blanket. “Come here.”

“But I-”

“But I,” he mocked. “But I don’t care. I need to look after some of those scratches.” Huffing, you dramatically threw the blanket to the side, coming over to sit in front of him. Taking the water bottle in hand, you gratefully moved to take a hearty swig to wash down some of the acid. Belphie grabbed it from you before you could. “Not for drinking.” He twisted the cap off and pulled out a small clean washcloth from his pockets. He pressed the fabric against the opening and tilted the bottle up, getting the rag slightly wet. He then pressed it against your cheek. “We don’t want these infected.” Slowly, he dabbed at each of your shallow scratches, making sure they were clear of dirt. Once he was done with that, he shoved the remaining water at you.

“I don’t want your rag water.”

“Fine.”

But the acidity in your mouth was grating against your teeth. You snatched the bottle from him, swallowing some grateful gulps to cease the gentle burning. Belphie had a mild cocky expression, wiping away the blood. Closing an eye due to slight stinging, you watched his concentrated face. “So…” You started, watching him soon open the box and remove a small tube of medicated ointment. “Why’re you home?”

Squeezing a small amount of the clear gel on the tip of his finger, he started applying it to your cleaned wounds. “Oh, I snuck out of the meeting.”

“Belphie!”

“What?” He took one hand, grabbing your face for a second, squishing your cheeks, mimicking the way your lips pursed. You shook him off, trying to keep yourself from being flustered. “Can you blame me? All I could think about was you...nice and warm in bed...and I was sleepy.” He let out a large yawn. “Still sleepy.”

“Well…” You paused for a second, heat rising to your cheeks. “I’m glad you did.”

He stopped for a second, looking into your eyes. “Hm? Say that again?”

Swallowing a lump in your throat, you furled your eyebrows. “I didn’t say anything.”

“Are you suuuure?” He drawled. “Cus it sounded like you missed me.” One look at your embarrassed face sent him laughing. He poked at your ribs, tickling your sides, singing the words. “You missed me, you missed me.”

Burying your face in your hands, you kicked him a little. “Stop it!”

“Fine,” he smirked. “Anyway, I think you’re mostly taken care of. Most of these have dried and scabbed over. They weren’t very deep anyway.” He lifted your arm, turning it to make sure he’d treated you completely. “So now we can do what I came here for!” It was his first excited expression in a while. He jumped into you, grabbing you by the waist against the bed. Both your heads hit the pillows, the blanket following shortly after. Already you could feel his face against your back. A happy hum of his buzzed into your skin, his hands rubbing against your stomach. Pouting a little, you realized that with Belphie stuck to you like this, you weren't going anywhere soon, so you shifted to get comfortable. You relaxed with a heavy sigh. “You know…” Belphie drowsily muttered. “I...missed...you too…”

“MC! My poor precious MC! I’m never ever leaving you alone again!” Asmo wailed, clinging to you like if he let you go you’d suddenly die. “I can’t believe Belphie did this to you!”

Speaking up from the corner, Belphie scoffed. “I actually helped them, just so everyone knows.” Back in your room, each of the demon brothers had returned from the meeting, having found you and Belphie after a while in the attic. Of course, your small wounds, Belphie’s absence, and the strange destruction of a segment of the garden was called into question.

“And my plants!” Asmo shrieked. “They were such a lovely background for my Devilgram posts! They’re ruined!”

“I’m so-” you tried to apologize, but Asmo pressed a gentle finger against your lips.

“Shush! I don’t blame you a single bit, my darling. It’s all these ruffians!” He kissed your cheek in spots around your little wound.

“Hey! Solomon’s the person responsible, not us!” Mammon shouted.

Lucifer’s weariness was especially noticeable today. You wondered what he had to put up with at the meeting. “At the very least, we’re glad you’re safe, MC. Knowing what Solomon’s cuisine is capable of…” He pinched at the bridge of his nose. “I’m heading to my office...try not to burn the house down,” he sighed, exiting quietly.

You tilted your head. “Is he okay?” You asked.

“When Belphie left, let’s just say Diavolo wasn’t exactly pleased,” Satan explained, a wicked grin stretching his lips wide. “So in exchange he agreed to be Diavolo’s personal servant tomorrow. I hope our Demon Lord has some entertaining things in store.”

Belphie’s face brightened. “Did I do that? Whoops.” Hardly a glimmer of remorse in him.

“You guys owe it to him at least to try and make it a calm night,” you urged, hoping to ease some of the shenanigans already being plotted in their minds.

Mammon shook his head. “Why do we gotta owe him anything? If he’s out for the count tonight, I can hit the casinos without a problem!” He came over rubbing your head. “Give me some of that luck, yeah?” You doubted you had any, but he bounded out the door.

“Belphie, I’ve got a little idea I’d like to try, but I need an extra set of hands. Care to join me?” Satan curled a little finger around his chin, mischief making his green eyes glow wild.

Belphie chuckled. “Ab-so-lutely.” With devilish grins, they both sniggered, malevolent whispers drifting between them as they left.

A rumbling growl echoed through the room. If this had been anywhere else, you would’ve been terrified. But this was the Devildom, and you knew Beel’s stomach when you heard it. “Oh...I’m sorry, MC, but I’m starving. I’ll see you in a bit.” He came over, trying to give you a hug despite Asmo still holding onto you for dear life. He ended up hugging both of you anyway. With more than a little speed, he also left your room, probably heading straight for the kitchen.

A high pitched ‘bling’ reached your ears. Levi pulled out his D.D.D.. “Oh! The new patch for Sorcerer’s Scrolls has been released! I gotta go!” He moved to run but stopped in his tracks before he got too far. “Do you wanna...watch more of that show tonight?”

“Sure, Levi,” you smiled, watching him sprint out of the room, a joyful spring in his step. Although, once everyone had left, you couldn’t help but lower your head, patting Asmo’s wrist. “You can leave too, Asmo, you don’t have to stay with me.”

He made an overly dramatic gasp. “But I do! Don’t sound so sad!” Pulling a bit away from you, he let his cheeks turn a bit pink. “And to be completely honest, I’ve been dying to get some alone time with you.” He squirmed a little bit, but then jumped to his feet. “So! You just sit there and let Nurse Asmo take care of everything, ‘kay ‘kay?” Is that why he had brought that large bag with him when he came in? It was a peach-colored tote bag, settled on your table, a fluffy pink pom-pom clipped to one of the handles. He bounded towards it, rummaging around, looking for something important.

A little--well a lot--guarded against potential Asmo intentions, you tried craning your head to see if you could look inside, but no dice. The end of your nose tickled again as it had the past few days. Grabbing another tissue from your bedside, you tried to blow your nose as quietly as possible. Your poor nostrils were so dry by this point it was bordering on painful. You sniffled, reaching over to squirt some hand sanitizer in your hands. “I thought you hated being around sick people,” you told him.

“You’re the only exception! Besides,” he grabbed out a familiar tool, one you had no idea how he got his hands on it. A stethoscope. “I want to use all these goodies Solomon got me!”

The name still almost sent a shudder down your spine. “Solomon? Why?”

Practically skipping back over, he sat beside you on the bed, strangely excited about this. “Aren’t bodies fascinating?” He touched his own skin, dragging his hand down his neck. “I love to know what makes this perfect body run! And you have absolutely no idea how desperately I’ve longed to know how yours does too!” Taking a good look at him, you could sense that he was truly and undeniably curious as to how your mortal body differed from his. Or possibly just craving a closer look into you altogether. Of course, you still had to close your eyes and deeply sigh. How many times would Solomon be the source of general chaos? Asmo took the end to the stethoscope, looking at it strangely. “Tell me, dear, how does this work?” You let out a light chuckle, and he looked at you curiously. “Don’t make fun of me, that’s just mean!”

“I’m not! I’m not, I promise, it’s just…” He resembled that of a little kid right now, a rare sort of innocence about him. Here he was, a demon of many millennia, and he just wanted to play doctor for a bit. “Never mind.” Brushing off your thoughts, you took the binaurals, putting the earpieces in his ears. One of his hands gently clutched the diaphragm, so you wrapped your own hand around his, guiding the end of the stethoscope to your chest.

Listening it to a moment, you could watch the gentle awe cross over his face. “T-that’s you.”

You brought a hand up to cover your mouth. “Yes, Asmo, that’s me. What, you didn’t think I had a heartbeat?”

“No, I knew! It’s just…” He closed his eyes, going silent. You didn’t want to disturb his moment, but you felt a sneeze coming on. Grabbing another tissue, you covered your nose, tilted your head down towards your lap, and sneezed. Moaning a bit, you blew your nose again, hard enough to make your ears pop. Sitting up, you chucked your used kleenex into the trash. You were about to apologize, but then the glee drained from Asmo’s face. He brought his hands up to his mouth and shrieked.

“What?! What’s wrong?!” As soon as you had asked, the answer presented itself towards you. Warmth dripped down your lips, forcing you to close your mouth as fast as you could.

“Blood! You’re bleeding! Hold on!” Lurching towards the tissues, Asmo pulled five out at a time, pressing it against your face. You pinched your nose, pressuring your hand against the bundle of kleenex. “Look at all this! No, no, no, no, you’ll be alright, darling.” Your gut instinct was to tilt your head up, but Asmo placed his hand on the top of your head, tilting it slightly forward. “Oh, don’t do that, you’ll end up swallowing it. Stay there, I’ll be right back.” He got up sprinting, leaving you alone with the smell and taste of blood. When he came back, he had a cold wet rag in his hands. “Here, use this instead. Give me those,” he softly ordered, tugging at the already blood soaked tissues. You took the rag in your hands, using that to stop the flow instead. He pulled you into his arms, rubbing your back. “Poor thing, it’s just non-stop problems for you right now, isn’t it?” You let him hold you, tilting your head against his as you waited for the blood to stop. Slowly, he brought his hand up to pet the back of your head, giggling a bit to himself when the action made you shiver.

After a bit of time, you tore away from him, cautiously removing the rag. You touched just above your lip, sighing in relief when it had stopped. “That was unexpected.”

Stealing the cloth from you, he started wiping the excess blood off your face. “About gave me a heart attack!” With his free hand, he cupped the side of your face.

A little idea crossed your mind. “Heart attack, huh? Better check that out.” Reaching for the stethoscope, you cleaned the earpieces before putting them in, pressing the small round medical disc to his chest. It was a bit stunning, you had to admit, how loud it sounded. In the human world before, any mentions of demons or angels were always in an ethereal sense. Whether you believed in them or not, you never really thought about them having hearts. Were they even similar to yours? At least...the drumming beating sound of life was the same.

He finished up cleaning you off, tilting his head and grinning. “Well?”

“Undeniably alive...and I’m very grateful for it.”

He squealed, flopping onto you, pushing you both down onto the bed. Every hint that he had been frightened before was gone. “Aren’t you just the sweetest?! Come here, you!” He littered kisses over your face, sending you into a little flurry of embarrassed titters.

“Asmo…”

“Isn’t it a human saying that they can kiss the pain away?” He pecked his lips over your eyelids. “Well, you better prepare yourself...I won’t stop kissing your perfect little face till you feel better!”

The bedroom door violently swung open, the handle nearly making a dent in the wall. Demons poured in, nearly falling over each other. They were all in demon forms, ready to tackle more danger. When they noticed that Asmo was fawning over you, they all puffed up, jealous and irritated. “We heard you scream and thought something happened!” Lucifer roared. Kinda late, weren’t they?

“Hey, why’re you getting all kissy with MC?!” Mammon jumped onto the mattress, trying to pry you from his brother’s arms.

“Don’t you think I deserve to be embracing them?” Satan attempted to push them both aside. Before you knew it, your room was a small war-arena, everyone climbing on the bed. You were squished between them, passed between different hands. Then something wobbled, the sound of wood and metal groaning before a loud snap pierced your ears. The bed hit the floor, a poof of dust causing you to cough. Your bedframe lay scattered in broken pieces across the ground.

“My...bed…” You ran a hand through your hair, pinned under the doggy-pile of demon lords. You looked between each of them with stern looks, each of them blushing in embarrassment over their actions. “Well...I guess it means I’ll be using someone else’s bed for the foreseeable future.”

All at once, their faces lit up, and at the same time they all shouted the same thing. “Me!”

#obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me belphie #tw blood #tw medication #tw vomit

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yamanorakuen · 3 years ago

Text

HC: Hanahaki Disease [Side characters]

Here we go again.. I hope you're all doing wonderfully!

Brothers vers.

Warnings: Angst, death, disease..

Diavolo had everything one could ask for; good looks, power, ambition, wealth, an amazing physique and to top it all off, a wonderful personality, being both fun and responsible.

Every time you visited the Demon Lord's Castle, you felt giddy and elated, and you cherished every small moment you could share with Diavolo.

But as one would expect, there was no way he, the future king of Devildom, would see you that way. To him, you were his cherished exchange student, just an ordinary human, a friend at best.

So while you weren't expecting to find yourself coughing up magnolia petals, you weren't surprised to find out the meaning behind those petals.

Of course he wouldn't love you back. He was a prince for crying out loud! He would love someone more equal to him. Not just a mortal human peasant who was merely visiting his kingdom.

So you kept quiet, never once voicing your feelings around Diavolo. But the more you kept your words in, the more you felt like suffocating. There were many occasions where you found yourself sitting on your bed, silently crying as you kept coughing and puking many beautiful petals. Even so, no one noticed your predicament, way too busy with exams and life.

One evening you had been invited to the Demon Lord's Castle with the brothers for dinner. Beel was absolutely elated, inhaling most of the food. Luckily Barbatos had been prepared for such an occurrence and kept bringing in more food as it disappeared from the table.

No one really knew why you had been invited to the castle, and finally Lucifer inquired about the reason from Diavolo himself.

With a broad smile, Diavolo revealed that there was some exciting news he wanted to share with his favorite demons and human.

Being called his favorite human made your heart beat faster.. Until he announced the news he had.

He was getting married. To some demon nobility. He had figured it was the perfect time to settle down and start a family as his inevitable reign as the king was nearing.

The news broke your heart, but you swallowed your tears, forced a smile on your face and congratulated him. You thought you did a good job at hiding your emotions until your eyes met Barbatos' knowing, sorrowful smile.

Only when you got home, you allowed yourself to cry and scream into your pillow, your screams quickly turning into streams of flower petals.

You know the line they say in human weddings? Speak now or forever hold your peace? You chose the latter. The Royal Wedding was a huge deal and you barely ever saw Diavolo during the planning period. But not even that made your feelings for him any weaker.

So you suffered in silence, even got to watch from the front row when he tied the knot. By now, you had become an expert in hiding your illness.

So when the brothers found you lying dead in your bed the very next morning, surrounded by a sea of flower petals, they didn't even understand what had happened and kept blaming themselves for not noticing something was wrong before it was too late.

And while Diavolo was grieving after your passing, he knew human lives were only temporary but that his kingdom was forever and that he had to move on. Fear not, he'll name his first-born after you, in loving memory of his dearest human friend.

Barbatos had this dazzlingly mysterious and intriguing quality to him, something so hard to explain but yet someting that drew you in like a moth to flame.

His patience, his selflessness, his competence.. All those things were reasons you found yourself desperately falling for the butler.

But in your heart you knew it was all doomed from the start; you barely had time to see each other due to Barbatos' butlerly duties, he always kept a really professional front with you, never indicating any interest beyond gracious politeness. But even though you knew better, you couldn't help yourself, couldn't stop yourself from falling more and more every time you saw him.

You thought you'd be fine, that your feelings would just disappear eventually, until you started to cough up petals of violets.

That itself was a terrible experience. The creeping feeling of suffocation, your lungs filling up with something foreign, dainty petals tickling the inside of your throat..

But you kept quiet. You didn't want to worry anyone, especially Barbatos, he already had enough on his plate. You didn't want to bother him or make him feel bad for you.

As weeks and months went on, you found yourself growing weaker and weaker. You still weren't sure what the petals meant, but were beginning to realize they didn't indicate any normal illness.

One day you found yourself too weak to get up from your bed, your lungs heavy with petals, larger than ever before.

The seven demon brothers were all fussing over you, having finally caught on to your condition. Lucifer had sent a text to Diavolo and Babratos, who were on their way to the House of Lamentation.

When Barbatos saw you lying on your bed, covered in petals, he instinctively knew. He was old enough to know what your condition was and wise enough to know his options.

With a hushed voice, he explained what he knew to Diavolo and begged him to let him mess with timelines, just this once. He knew you were running out of time; no doctor could make it to save you at this state.

With slight hesitation, Diavolo relented. Barbatos began to look for a suitable timeline right away. One where you weren't in love with him. Honestly, he would have loved nothing more than to return your affections, but he understood that he was far too busy, couldn't make you happy and that love simply can't be forced.

It was harder than he thought to find a timeline where you didn't fall for him. It was both flattering and scary. All the major timelines had the same ending, and he had to watch you wither away time and time again, but Barbatos refused to accept that truth.

Eventually, he found a small, minor branch, one where you didn't harbor any romantic feelings for him. Without checking it further, he made his decision.

And lo and behold, you were completely healthy again after swapping the timelines. The sight of you, smiling with a healthy glow to your skin, made Barbatos' heart soar.

That was until an unfamiliar feeling of suffocation filled his throat.. Horrified, he realized what had happened; now you weren't in love with him anymore, but he was in love with you instead..

Simeon was an angel. Not only figuratively, no, he was LITERALLY an angel. He was so full of love, light and kindness, his entire smile could light up a room.

Even after knowing what had happened to Lilith after she had fallen for a human as an angel, you still stayed hopeful that maybe, just maybe Simeon would like you back and that Celestial Realm would've modernized after that incident..

But you hope was all in vain. One day you heard Simeon talking about it himself, how it was still considered the most horrendous crime in Celestial Realm.

But you kept to your delusions; maybe Simeon would still be willing to risk it all just for you?

But that was all a daydream you would soon wake up from. And what woke you up? You literally woke up once in the middle of the night to cough up white lily petals. Those were your wakeup calls.

It was painful to realize that everything Simeon had said and done to you during your friendship was all platonic. All the gentle smiles, all the feather-light touches, all the kind words.. They were for everyone, not specifically reserved just for you.

But you understood him. Romantic love must have been a foreign concept to an angel. Or at least romantic love towards a human being must have been nearly unheard of.

You tried to forget about your feelings but it was easier said than done. Simeon was ever so courteous to you whenever you ran into each other and you kept having sweet dreams about him. So your symptoms kept worsening.

You thought you were hiding your pain well enough, but maybe you should have known better. It's extremely hard to hide pain and negative emotions from an angel. Angels are literally designed to recognize them and help others to get rid of them.

This time it was Luke who realized something was wrong first.

You had been visiting Purgatory Hall and had been baking with Luke when the suffocating feeling had crept in. But before you could even run away or begin coughing, Luke rested his little hand on your back and looked up at you with serious eyes.

"MC.. Why didn't you tell me you were sick?" Luke questioned with his sky big blue eyes wide open.

"S-Sick? What are you talking about? I'm not sick, I'm completely-" You tried to assure the small angel before beginning to cough violently. Luke quickly grabbed your hand and led you to a sofa, sitting you down as he kept supporting your coughing form.

"MC.. I'm worried for you.." Luke admitted in a whisper, rubbing your back soothingly. You could feel him tremble next to you. You felt guilty for alarming Luke like that, but you couldn't stop coughing.

You hadn't even heard Simeon come in before you felt someone else sitting down next to you.

You looked up and saw Simeon next to you with a worried look etched upon his face, his eyebrows knitted together. Even then he looked so beautiful..

"Luke, your cake is burning.." Simeon muttered to Luke who got the message and jumped up from the sofa, beginning to walk away.

"You better take good care of MC, okay! I'm counting on you!" Luke declared to Simeon before disappearing to the kitchen.

"What's wrong, my lamb?" Simeon questioned softly, running a soothing hand down your back. Finally you felt your coughing fit subsiding.

"D-Don't..." You muttered, your voice trembling ever so slightly.

"Huh?" Simeon asked, taken aback.

"Don't call me your lamb... It'll give me false hope..." You said breathlessly, shuffling further away from Simeon. You desperately wanted to lean in to his inviting and warm touch, but knew that that would make things worse for you.

"False hope..?" Simeon repeated after you before realization hit him like a ton of bricks, "MC.. Are you sick.. because of me?" He asked quietly, hanging his head low.

You just nodded silently, not daring to look at Simeon.

"I'm so sorry, MC.." he apologized, shaking his head, his hair falling into his face, "I didn't know.. Heh.." He laughed dryly.

"I'm sorry too.. I knew.. It was wrong.. But I just couldn't help myself.." You laughed too, a teardrop rolling down your cheek.

"Don't apologize.. Love is a beautiful thing," Simeon assured you before wiping your tears away, "I'm sorry I can't return your affections. You really are a lovely person, MC. I'm sure you'll find someone who is able to love you the way you deserve to be loved."

After that comment, you both fell silent. In a way, you felt better than before. There was no more secrecy or hiding. But in a way, you felt worse. Your fears had been confirmed.

"MC.. Would you consider.. Undergoing surgery? I really don't want to see you dying just quite yet.. And I'm sure everyone else feels the same way.." Simeon requested after a while.

"... Yes." You relented, knowing that it would be for the best, even if the thought of the surgery frightened you.

After the surgery, you felt much better. Things went back to normal, as much as they could, and there were no hard feelings from either side. Luke was also elated to see you were healthy again!

Solomon had never expected to meet someone he would grow to love in a place such as Devildom. Esecially another human for that matter. Wait, scratch that. Solomon had never thought he would fall in love ever again at all. But there he was, staring at you across the classroom like a lovesick puppy. It disgusted him, but he couldn't stop himself.

But alas, he knew his chances were low. Albeit being powerful for a human, a potent sorcerer and immortal, he knew it was hard to compete with nine of the most powerful demons in Devildom AND a high-ranking angel. Of course you'd choose any of them over him. They could offer you so much more.

In the best case scenario you would be attracted to him precisely because he was a kin to you; that you'd trust and relate to him because you were both human. But relating to someone doesn't mean they'll love you.

His humanity could be both his ally and his downfall; but by the way the seven demon brothers liked to keep you to themselves, he felt like his time to impress you was running short.

Then, one evening while doing his homework, Solomon began to cough up larkspur petals.

At first he thought one of his spells had backfired or that someone was either pranking him or had hexed him; but when he tried to get rid of the petals with magic, they stubbornly stayed, mocking him.

Solomon let out a frustrated sigh every time his spell turned out to be useless against his condition, before finally having to give up.

When the symptoms didn't go away in a few weeks, Solomon decided to pay Satan a visit, seeing if he had any books about what was going on.

He rummaged through Satan's book collection before finally stumbling upon a promising book.

Now he knew the name and prognosis of his disease; wondering what the best way to go about it was. Clearly the book stated that you did not like him back, but then.. Who did you like?

As he was taking his leave, he ran into you, cuddling on the sofa with Asmodeus, all lovey dovey. Solomon felt his heart ache and his throat fill up once again. Not risking another look at you two, he quickly made his way out of the house.

For a moment he thought he could just use his pact and force Asmodeus to leave you alone, but deep in his heart he knew it was morally wrong. He knew it would break your heart if Asmodeus suddenly stopped being affectionate with you.

For a while he contemplated wheter he should shoot his shot and confess to you; but he was pretty sure it wouldn't change a thing, so he abandoned that plan pretty quickly.

In the end he decided that a surgery would be the best option. There is no harm doing something like that when you didn't even know about his pining for you. You would never know and you would continue to be happy while Solomon could finally move on himself.

After the surgery, Solomon felt immensly bitter, although it all tasted slightly bittersweet; he was fairly certain he had lost his only chance to feel love quite like this towards anyone.

A/N: If you read this far, thank you! I hope you enjoyed the headcanons. Please let me know your favorite one. :) I love the side characters but I don't know that much about them so sorry if these are very ooc. I'm not 100% clear to what extent Barb's powers work and how they do, so bear with me haha! Also if you have any requests, feel free to request, but I can't promise anything because my schedule is nearly full for the next month and a half :( But I love writing so-

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me angst #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #obey me luke

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employee052 · 2 years ago

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semi vent fic

intentionally written incredibly vauge but if you know this blog, then you can probably guess what its about kashjdlkasd

also, they are not talking about something in particular. this was written both to collect my thoughts and calm down so im sorry if something sounds wrong or theres a spelling error.

---

a man in a green jacket sits down on a grassy hillside near a thicket of trees. a mop of teal green and white hair swaying against the wind as a comforting gust washes over the landscape. the forest of pine and oak rustling in tranquillity as the cloudy blue sky ahead provides shelter from the sweltering sun.

the man in green closes his eyes. taking a deep breath before sighing out all the remaining stresses and anxieties from his system even for just a moment.

behind him, another figure passes by, their brown sweater feeling almost fitting for the surroundings as their white hoodie string flows along with the wind..

the figure sits down beside the man in green and stares out into the nature ahead of them.

the two sit in contemplative silence for a moment. letting the silence ease their nerves as they simply basked in the comforting presence of polite company.

the man in brown breaks the silence. "do you ever wish to join them?" he asks, words vague like a secret struggling to be kept hidden.

yet the man in green understands his question. "yeah, sorta." he responds honestly, fiddling with whatever is beside him on the ground.

"i hate feeling like i'm missing out on something," he continues, "maybe its the anxiety speaking? i have no clue."

another contemplative pause.

"a part of me wants to join them, but…" brown trails off, looking off into the forest as if he was looking for something.

"but?"

"... it feels weird, trying to join them. maybe i just enjoy the more private parts of it all."

green nods understandingly, a small empathetic smile on his face. "felt."

"it feels like everything is going so fast in there." brown continues, " things are always starting, prompts being made, stories being written, art being drawn. its hard to keep up."

"yep, that and it feels like whatever i make isn't good enough compared to the likes of giants and creative geniuses there. i know im a good artist, but compared to everyone there? i feel like an ant."

the two go silent as the sound of leaves rustling in the wind grows louder, the wind picking up as though it were a scene in a film. both men let the words exchanged settle into their minds comfortingly, understanding the other for a moment or two.

"what do you suppose we do then?" asks brown, looking to green for guidance.

green pauses, looking back at brown through his yellow glasses.

"as much as i want to continue trying to join that stream of creation and excitement, i think ill keep things slow, personal, calm even. i hate feeling rushed, and when i want to do stuff with you in it, i want it to mean something. and not just because i don't want to be left out."

brown looks at green understandingly. a comforting smile on his face as he nods.

"ill still do things where, if it comes up ill do it. but i think im good being left out of everything for now. i enjoy doing things at my own pace."

he looks into browns eyes, "and what about you? what's your take on it? im not making a decision without your side."

brown's eyes widen, eyebrows raised as he tries to gather his thoughts together before replying.

"well," he starts looking back into the forest like it was his audience, "i agree with what you said honestly. so there's not much i can comment on."

"as much as i enjoy being the centre of attention, i enjoy it when we get to make something together at our own pace. the pressure of trying to do better with every piece as opposed to just creating for the fun of it all feels suffocating most days."

brown looks at green suddenly, eyes swimming with nostalgia. "truth be told, i miss the early days. where you would draw me on a notebook, and it would be just us together creating. with you at the pencil and me as the muse."

"nothing to fear, nothing to think, just us, enjoying each other's company." he says, almost grandiose. like it was a long forgotten time before all the mental turmoil and struggle hit them both like a truck.

green says nothing. opting to think back to those days with a smile. the calm and slow origins of what would later accumulate to the two on the hill, looking out into the forest.

"remember character ai? when you were talking to me there?" brown starts again, a playful grin on his face. "those were some good stories. while the bot never truly got my character down, your guidance really pushed our story into something cohesive and enjoyable. it might have been the first time i wrote with anyone else before…"

green grins, "i'm glad to hear it! and i had fun as well. really."

"maybe it was because it felt like you actually were there with me telling a story, even if the bot butchered your character a lot." green shrugged.

"psh," brown started, "a bot could never get my character down! I have too many facets to myself that putting it into a simple chatbot is like an isolation of my features! reduced to nothing but a few key traits that could never begin to even represent me as an individual!"

"i know i know…" green sighed, "honestly, it's why i haven't gone back to that bot in ages. it's like your character finally solidified in my head, and now i'm the only one who can write you right. or at least you as my narrator anyways."

"your narrator. talk about sap, nerd."

"oh can it, dork. you know what i mean."

the two quietly chuckle under their breath. sharing a quick friendly smile before they settle back into sitting calmly on the hill.

"so… we continue like this then? just us, the parable, and a few friends here and there with the occasional prompt or two?" brown asks.

"i suppose. maybe one day i'll be strong and determined enough to go back into that stream of creation again. but im content just sitting at the shore banks dipping my toes into the water and letting the breeze cool my face." green answers, the wind picking up like a crescendo of emotion. the two looking out into the forest with a soft smile and an easy heart. ready to take their time and savour all they can in the moment.

"i understand." brown replies. taking green's hand comfortingly and squeezing it, silently comforting and reassuring him.

…

"also, great use of metaphors by the way." he adds slightly jokingly

green rolls his eyes. "jeez thanks. and i assume that my english test on shakespeare is tomorrow too, sir?" he teases, his voice light with genuinity as he scooches closer to his friend and rests his head on brown's shoulder.

brown scoffs, "and to think i enjoyed writing with you." he jokes back, knowing full well that they both carry no real bite at these taunts. resting his head against green's shoulder as the two stare off into the forest peacefully.

#ficswin #havent used that tag in a while hoowee #anyways #vent fic

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winter-soldier-vibes · 4 years ago

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You Aren’t Somebody? (Bucky x Reader)

Bucky x reader

Word count: 2647

Summary: Bucky knows that the reader has struggled with an eating disorder before, but thought they were doing better. Little does he know, they had just gotten better at hiding it. Until one night, he catches her doing something she had promised she had stopped

Warnings: eating disorder, purging, angst, fluff

Tags @abitgryffindorky @buckys2thicc @thatfangirl42 @buckfics @barnesplums @mardema @stucky-on-spiderman @thundering-barnes

Main Masterlist

A/N: It’s finals week and I am running on energy drinks, reading fanfiction, and longgggg hot showers. But the semester is almost over, and then I have no obligations aside from my hobbies. I see the requests and I’m working on them I promise! I have a list of all the requests that I get, and I am working through them I PROMISE!!! Thank you all for all of your support.

A/N 2: This deals with heavy and dark themes of mental illness. The specific warnings are above. If you feel that in any way reading this will be harmful to your mental health and your journey, PLEASE skip it. I write from my own experience and I know what I would’ve wanted to hear in these situations, and writing/reading fics helps me feel comforted. This fic is based on one experience more specifically than most of my fics, so I apologize if it’s not exactly the same as your experience. This is what I would’ve wanted to hear. If you need or want someone to talk to, vent to, or get advice from, feel free to message me, really. I’m here! <3

------------------------------

Bucky was standing in front of you, blocking the door. His piercing blue eyes were locked on you, your own refusing to meet his.

He wanted answers that you were not ready to give.

“Y/n, please. I just want to talk about this”

“There’s nothing to talk about, Bucky.”

He looked you up and down. Your hair was in a messy bun, a few loose strands sticking to your tear stained cheeks. Your eyes were puffy, and your face was red, voice raspy. He took a deep breath. “You told me you would tell me if it was getting bad again.”

“You promised.”

You closed your eyes. He wasn’t wrong, you had promised. But that was because you never thought you’d see the day when you were purging again. You thought you had gotten over it. You really thought that this time you wouldn’t slip up.

------------------

You had been struggling with an eating disorder for a while. The cause, you weren’t quite sure. An innocent diet soon turned into a competition for yourself, but the end goal was never there. At first you had thought it was just about the weight and how you looked, but then you found that some of your behavior patterns were tied to your emotional ones.

Stress was the major trigger, you had come to learn.

Whether it was a mission gone wrong, you getting injured, someone else getting injured, or even just basic social interactions you thought could’ve gone better, you found yourself inclined to comfort yourself with food.

Until you panicked, which would lead you to the bathroom with music blaring and water running to cover up the noises of your retching.

You hated it, and every time you told yourself it was the last time. But the more you did it, the more you felt the urge to do it. At first it was triggered by large stressors, but now smaller things could trigger you to want to throw up. You tried to keep it hidden, unaware of the true reasons for why you did it. You were able to help yourself sometimes, it wasn’t worth bringing anyone else into.

You couldn’t explain it to yourself, so how were you supposed to explain it to anybody?

The best way that you had figured out how to describe it was that whenever you felt a negative emotion, you could soothe it in a physical way with food, especially with all the warm comfort foods that are known. But at the same time, that feeling lasted as long as you could taste, and you would feel guilty as you felt full. When you threw up, it felt like you were also throwing up the negative emotions.

But when you said it out loud, it didn’t make sense. When people are sick and throwing up it’s one of the most uncomfortable feelings ever. Inducing it hurts sometimes, but it’s almost not as bad. Like you know it’s coming, and you’re in control of what’s happening and you could stop at any point. And there had been times where you could soothe yourself in other ways, and you knew your own physical limits. You knew when you had to stop for your own health.

Until you couldn’t stop.

Which is what led to you fainting on a mission after purging too much. Your electrolytes had bottomed out and you almost had a heart attack at an age no one should. Bucky, your boyfriend who was on the mission with you, had put it together when the first words out of your mouth upon gaining consciousness were “Is this a glucose drip?” while tugging at the IV.

He hadn’t been mad, not exactly. He wasn’t mad at you but he was furious with himself for not noticing, and for making you feel as though you couldn’t tell him. You assured him that you did trust him, but he wished you had come to him before you could’ve gotten yourself, and those on the mission, seriously hurt or killed.

Nonetheless, you still didn’t know how to talk about it.

“Can you try to tell me about it?” he asked gently, running a hand through your hair. He held you to his chest, you unable to meet his eyes.

“It won’t make any sense,” you had said, tears glazing your eyes.

“I want to understand. Can you help me understand?”

You paused for a moment. “It’s a long story and I don’t know where to start. There’s so much going wrong.” you had said, tears beginning to streak down your face.

“I have all the time for you. And it doesn’t have to make sense, these things rarely do. I’m not here to judge you, I’m here to listen.”

And true to his word, he had. He had listened and held you while you tried to talk about what you could. He didn’t understand everything, he naturally had a ton of questions, but they weren’t for that moment. He had promised to help you the best that he could, and you had promised to try and tell him whenever you felt the urges get too strong. And if you couldn’t, to tell him after.

It was easier to talk to Bucky than anyone else. Not because he was your boyfriend, but because he seemed to understand you more than anyone else could. He had his own share of mental health struggles. Neither of you knew exactly what the other was going through, but you both understood that it was easy to feel alone and guilty even though you couldn’t control it.

It was rough, but he was never mad. He was sometimes firm, and sometimes you had gotten angry with him. Only to later apologize to him with tears in your eyes. He was never mad with you. He understood that this was something internal. Upon research he had done and conversations he had had with Bruce, he understood that this had nothing to do with him. Some people thought eating disorders were about getting attention when it was one of the furthest things from the truth.

All he could do was love you and be there for you.

And to your surprise, talking about it did help.it took a long time, months, of long and hard conversations, panic attacks, slip ups, and really dark days. But it got to the point where Bucky felt that you were doing better, making an effort to tell you how proud he was and how much he loved you.

And you were doing better, in a way. But you had been slipping up more recently, and you hadn’t told Bucky. You didn’t know how. After going the longest you’d ever had between slip ups, you found yourself retching over the toilet. You would have gone to Bucky but he had been away on a mission that was extended a few days. You couldn’t interrupt him because your feelings were too much to handle. People needed his help more than you did.

You were going to tell him, but he had been so tired when he had come back. He needed his time to relax, and it wasn’t the right time to tell him. And the next day when he was rested, you felt that it was irrelevant. Any negative feeling you had felt the day before had since past, and you didn’t see the point in bringing it up today. It would worry Bucky, he wouldn’t want to go on missions, and you weren’t going to do that to him. Besides, it was just one time.

Right?

You soon found yourself purging when Bucky wasn’t around. If he had gone out with Steve, if he was on a mission, or if he was down in the gym you found yourself taking more opportunities to give into your urges. It wasn’t nearly as bad as it had been, but you were spiraling. But at this point you had been slipping up so many times, you had been so secretive about it.

It would kill Bucky inside to know that you were hiding this from him again. He would feel like you didn’t trust him. You trusted him with your life.

You just didn’t want to let him down. Not again, not when he had explicitly told you to come to him and you had been blatantly ignoring that.

You wanted to tell him, you did. But you couldn’t let him being so proud of you be based on a lie.

One day you were hunched over the toilet, legs sahking and tears streaming down your face from exertion. Bucky was away on a mission, so you didn’t even bother with the music or the water. What you hadn’t anticipated was him coming back hours earlier than he should’ve

The mission had gone much more smoothly than anticipated, which everyone was happy about. Bucky was glad he would get a few more hours with you. He had gone up to your shared room and let himself in, surprised to see you weren’t there. But then he heard you coughing from behind a closed bathroom door.

He felt like someone had punched him in the gut. You had been doing so well, what had happened?

He walked over to the door, knocking on it and calling out your name. He heard you muffle a small fuck before he knocked again.

“Y/n please, let me in.”

He heard the toilet flush and the sink turn on, you on the other side washing your face. You could feel the tears from exertion be replaced by ones of shame and embarrassment, biting your lip slightly. What the fuck were you going to tell him?

When you finally turned off the water, you rubbed your face with a towel, sighing heavily into it. When you took it away, you looked long and hard at the doorknob.

Bucky sighed on the other side of the door. “Y/n please. I’m not mad. We’ve been here before, I just wanna talk to you.”

You closed your eyes for a moment, taking a breath before you made your expression nuetral and opened the door.

Bucky’s eyes immediately saddened when he took you in. your face was still red and there were tears in your eyes. You had tried to put up a front, he could tell that too. Sometimes you got angry with him because you didn’t want to be vulnerable. He was prepared because like he said - he’d helped you before.

Before he could say anything you crossed your arms. “You’re home early,” you said coldly.

“Y/n.”

“How’d the mission go? Well, I assume.” you tried to slip past Bucky but he was blocking the door.

Bucky took a deep breath. “Yeah, yeah, the mission went well.” He wanted to be gentle with you. “But how are you?”

You shrugged, trying to appear oblivious. “I’m fine,” voice wavering slightly as you looked away.

“Y/n please. You’re not fine. Can you tell me what happened?”

“The same thing that always happens” you said bitterly. “Something stupid comes up, I start feeling like shit about myself and I ignore it until I’m puking it up with everything else, alright? It’s the same story, different time, and now I have you looking at me all hurt just like I was worried about which is why I couldn’t tell you!” you exclaimed, eyes filled with anger and tears. Bucky looked at you as if you had just punched him in the face. He would’ve much preferred that you had.

“Y/n.”

You shook your head, trying to get through the door that he was blocking. “Bucky, just let me through the door, forget it.”

“Y/n just talk to me please, I -”

“JUST LET ME THROUGH THE GODDAMN DOOR.” You yelled, surprising Bucky. It had been a while since you had gotten this angry or defensive. But he stood his ground. Bucky was standing in front of you, blocking the door. His piercing blue eyes were locked on you, your own refusing to meet his.

He wanted answers that you were not ready to give.

“Y/n, please. I just want to talk about this”

“There’s nothing to talk about, Bucky,” you said, feeling tears threatening to spill over.

He took a deep breath. “You told me you would tell me if it was getting bad again.”

You closed your eyes and felt a pang in your stomach. “Bucky, I - “

“You promised,” he said, voice cracking.

You shook your head. “Why do I have to talk about this. It’s not like I’m hurting anybody”

“You’re hurting yourself, y/n.” he said calmly.

You shook your head and narrowed your eyes slightly, tears falling. “That’s different Bucky, you know it is.”

“You aren’t somebody?”

You looked at him for a moment before a sob escaped your body, leaning on the counter for support as you brought a hand to your mouth. Bucky quickly came up behind you and pulled you into him, wrapping his arms around you. You started crying harder, embarrassed and ashamed.

“I’m sorry Bucky, I didn’t know what else to do, I didn’t know how to tell you, I -”

“Hey it’s okay, it’s alright y/n, I’m here.” Bucky kept whispering reassurances in your ears, rubbing a hand up and down your back.

After some time passed, you didn’t know how long, you were able to calm down enough to take some shaky breaths, hiding your red face in Bucky’s chest.

“When did this start happening again?” he asked softly

“I don’t know… few weeks at least, not really sure.”

He took a breath, trying to stay calm. A few weeks and he hadn’t suspected anything, and you were alone. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You were on a mission, I couldn’t interrupt that.”

“Why didn’t you tell me when I got back?” he pressed gently.

“You were so tired Bucky - ”

“Y/n.” he said more firmly.

You paused for a moment, knowing he wouldn’t take those answers. If they were truly the reason then you would’ve told him the next day or the day after, as soon as the opportunity came. There was more to why you waited, and Bucky knew that.

“I didn’t want to disappoint you,” you whispered.

You heard Bucky sigh. He was angry with himself, for not being approachable to you. All he wanted was to make you feel safe enough to come to him, and to hear that you hadn’t because you thought he had expectations for you crushed him. “Y/n, I told you you could tell me about this. When have I ever been disappointed or angry with you?”

“You haven’t. You were just so proud and I - I didn’t want to ruin that for you. I didn’t want to tell you that you were proud of a lie.”

“Hey, hey look at me.” Hesitantly you looked up to meet his eyes. “None of this was you lying. You put in the hard work day after day, and I told you I was here to support you. But I never did the work for you. You did that. I’m proud of you and I always will be because you’re a fighter. It’s okay to have bad days, it’s okay to slip up. It’s okay to need a little help too, and that’s what I’m here for. A slip up doesn’t erase all the hard work you’ve put in before. I’m proud of you for the progress you’ve made, and of the work you put in. This doesn’t change anything sweetheart.”

He pulled you back into his chest.

“I’ll always be proud of you.”

#Bucky Barnes #buckybarnes #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky #bucky barns fanfiction #bucky barns imagine #bucky barns x you #MCU fanfiction #mcu imagine #mcu fic #MCU #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel #eating disorder comfort #tw eating disorder #tw

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technowoah · 4 years ago

Text

Taunt

It only takes one time to realize you fucked up.

- ANON REQUESTED!

- WILBUR X FEM! READER BLURB

PROMPTS!

50) "Fuck off... I mean it"

24) "Get in the car" "..." "please get in the car"

⚠︎ angst to fluff, swearing, based on the song Taunt by Lovejoy ❤🐈 its short btw yall

[Updated 3 hours after upload I messed up the prompts sorry yall now it fixed]

She was always asking if he was alright. He always lied to her just to get her off his back for the night, but it was his fault that he wanted her to move in. He has to deal with that all of the time, it was her fault anyways. She made him upset, she made him not alright. She didn't know that. She constantly complained about things that didn't even concern her, she dodged their relationship making it more about her than them.

It was tiring to him. Constantly providing, trying to tie a broken knot, but he didnt let that get in the way of his career, or his friends. There's another issue, he never talked to his friends about her. She accused him of not being proud of their relationship and that became a problem that never got resolved.

Did anyone ever say "no" to her? Well if no one did, he would be the first one to do so. Fuck that.

He listened, and listened, but nothing kept this relationship together.

Wilbur talked to the three people chatting on his discord through his headphones as a soft LED lights flowed through the room. These nights were simple because she didnt have to see him when he decides to stream, he basically has his time set out for himself without trouble. He wasn't ecstatic, he felt horrible, but the facadè was there.

Her on the other hand wasnt happy either. She never got attention from him, and of course she could get moody from time to time like every other human being, but she always took it out on him. Who else was gonna be there for her? He acted like her cared, she knew he was lying. His "caring" consisted of humming and him responding like a default character in a video game. He didn't care, he acted like he never did. She needed that attention and he knew damn well she did.

She wasnt asking for much, at least to her it did feel like it. She knew when she was wrong, but she didn't want to admit it when they were both in the wrong too. They dont get each other, she didnt know why he asked her to move in when he didn't want anything to do with her. Ever since he moved her in he kept her in check like a child, she hated and loved that at the same time. Its true that she wanted her own way, she did what she wanted and gave her attention to whoever she wanted her attention to be. She thought that was fine, but apparently she dosent give any effort to the relationship.

Rolling her eyes at the thought she decided to leave the dishes in the sink dirty. She thought about leaving and finding someone who will get her, yes Wilbur listened to her, but there was no effort. When he's drunk and tries to "figure out what makes her brain tick" ends up in more distaster.

Lying in the couch her mind began to wonder, he always said that she could get away with anything. She always took it as a taunt. Everytime it was brought up. He called it "pretty privilege" and he always taunts her saying she abuses that power.

Her jaw clenched as she recalled those memories. Summoning the courage she brought herself up onto her feet and rushed to their shared bedroom. Taking a deep breath she opened their closet and started pulling her things off of hangers, not caring if she made a mess. She tossed her clothes onto the messy bed that they didn't bother to make this morning.

Bringing a small backpack out from underneath the bed she tried shoving most of her clothes into a bag for a night. In total frustration she emptied the bag and only backed necessities that she would need for the night.

She was tired of him and he was tired of her so she was doing both of them a favor. She made her way out of the door grabbing a coat and sliding on some simple shoes. Shooting a quick text to a close friend letting them know she's coming over. Her friend wasn't that close, but she decided to walk. As she locked the door to their shared apartment she debated texting Wilbur. She didnt want to, but she didnt want him to freak the fuck out because she wasnt home.

( Wilbur )

Me: Ill be back for the rest of my stuff tmrw.

[Read]

She closed her phone and started on her night time journey down the street trying to let everything from the past few weeks go with the cool wind.

Him on the other hand stayed silent. He had just finished his stream and had gotten a text saying that she'll be back for the rest of her things. This was inevitable, one of them had to leave, but to him it didnt seem right. He didn't want her to leave. Something in his heart was making him chase her back, the same thing in his heart that moved her into his apartment in the first place. Maybe it was love, maybe he wanted to persevere and have someone in his life. Something in his mind was telling him that he let go of something special.

Wilbue thought about it as he shut everything off and went to go grab his belongings, before rushing out the door to try and find her. Sadly to his discovery, she turned off her location. He finally made it to his car and started driving towards his house to see if she was around there.

He couldn't call a friend because she never introduced her friends to him. She did that on purpose because of him not doing the same. As he drove down the not so busy streets of Brighton he thought if he could get to know her, pull emotions and feelings out of her and see the real her. And if he cant do that? Who knows what will happen.

He remembers this face she always pulled when he always said "Im alright." She scrunched up her nose in annoyance and he always took it as a taunt because he couldn't figure out the real meaning. They were both going at this the wrong way, he dosent know anything about her and maybe thats the problem, but she needs to calm down as well. She needs to start paying attention to both of them instead of herself.

He was seated at a stoplight until he saw a figure on the sidewalk walking past him. The person looked shocked then kept walking, but even faster this time. He rolled down the window to see it was Y/n walking. Wilbur ran the red light and found a place to turn the car around to follow her. He drove a couple of feet in front of her before putting his hazard lights on and stepping out of the car to confront her.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" Wilbur said while getting our of his car.

"Im getting away from you. And what are you doing here?" She said.

"Well I could ask you the same thing. Its not safe out here alone." He calmed down a little. Wilbur's main goal was to get her back home so they can have a civilized talk. He didn't want to be out here.

"Oh? Ive been fine for the past fifteen minutes." She sasser back.

"That dosent mean its not safe!" He exclaimed.

She stayed quiet so that gave Wilbur an opportunity to speak.

"See, I want us to go home so we can have a civilized talk without feeling defensive. I want to get to know you, I know you're my girlfriend and yes, it was my mistake rushing things. Im not putting the blame all on myself either." He finished and she stayed quiet with her arms crossed infront of her chest.

"Are you cold-?"

"Fuck off...I mean it." She said while trying to pass hin on the street.

He stood in her way and he kept doing that every time she tried to get around him. Wilbur saw that she was getting annoyed at his actions. Wilbur held her by both of her biceps trying to hold her still so he could talk.

"You're being childish!"

"Fucking listen to me! You cant just keep walking away from us! From me! This is not healthy!" Wilbur yelled. He let go if her and surprisingly she stayed there.

"Get in the car." He ordered but she stayed silent. "Please get in the car."

She turns around gets in the passenger seat if Wilbur's car. He sighed a sigh if relief and followed her lead. They both got settled into the car and he didn't move. He wasn't going to drive unless she talked to him. After a minute if silence she spoke up.

"I know its- its both of our faults. And i have some things I need to work on. I cant just run away. Also your thoughts of me need to be rearranged, but I need to give you all of me. At leat 50 percent so we can start somewhere. But Im sorry." She said while she looked down at her lap maybe in embarrassment.

In the end they both wanted to fix themselves. In the end they wanted eachother. And they can both see that.

He leaned over the armrest and gave her a kiss on her cheek. She turned to him with a surprise look on her face, like this was the most affection he gave her, because it was true. She grabbed his hand that rested on the armrest too as he started to drive towards their home together.

As the nightly drive continues on and now shes drifting off in the passenger seat as In Love With An E-girl plays softly. She's left too tired to talk with Wilbur and be in touch with her emotions right now, but she'll do it for the both of them this time.

#mcyt blurb #mcyt angst #mcyt fluff #mcyt x reader #mcyt headcanons #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot headcanons #wilbur soot blurb #wilbur x reader #irl wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot x y/n #wilbur soot angst #mcyt x you #mcyt imagines #mcyt x y/n #wilbur soot x you

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shreddedparchment · 4 years ago

Text

A Wife for Thor Pt.20

Changes

03/21/2021

Pairing: King!Thor x Reader Word Count: 6,206

Warnings: ANGST up the whazoo! Like seriously, angst. Language, more angst, talks of pregnancy, relationship troubles

A/N: Oof, this one is pretty bad. First of all, I’m sorry. I hope you can forgive me. But anyone who knows me and my storytelling, I always ramp up the angst around here. Anywho, I hope you enjoy this chapter to the best of your ability! If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo

It’s nearly nightfall when Thor lands on the drive in front of your house.

His honeymoon haven, as he thinks of it often.

There’s hardly any impact from his descent, but what little there is kicks up a puff of dust despite the heavy gravel.

It crunches beneath his feet as he makes his way towards the front door. His boots fall heavy on the aged wood and before he can knock you’re there, pulling the door open.

You’re the most wonderful sight he’s ever had the pleasure of laying his eyes on. You’re perfection. Even tired as you look, eyes bloodshot, lips slightly off color, no glow in your cheeks or brightness in your gaze. You’re still the most beautiful creature in all of the universe.

He smiles at you but you stare at him stoically, then step aside to allow Dr. Wilson passage.

“Dr. Wilson,” Thor suddenly remembers sending her to be with you.

He smiles at her and she gives him one in return, albeit small and tight and it doesn’t reach her eyes.

“Your Majesty,” she curtsies quickly before turning to you and placing her hand on your arm. “If you need anything, you have my number.”

“Thank you, Dr. Wilson, I’ll use it if I have to. Which something tells me I will.”

“Are you not better yet, cherub?” Thor asks, worry creasing his forehead.

You don’t meet his eyes and he notices the way Dr. Wilson steals a quick glance at him before she gives you a curtsy too then moves around him towards the drive to a shiny silver car.

You step out to the edge of your porch, waving at the Doctor until she’s gone.

As you turn back to him, Thor breathes in deep, almost taking a step towards you to wrap his arms around you and kiss you and quench this thirst for you that has been growing larger and more demanding every day that the two of you have been apart.

Before he can, you point towards the doorway and move past him, “You better come inside. It’s supposed to storm tonight.”

“Storm?” Thor asks incredulously. “Shall I chase it away for us?”

You don’t answer him and instead walk into the kitchen, disappearing from his sight as you move around the counter towards the sink.

Thor hesitates, his heart dropping for the first time since he arrived. At first he merely thought you exhausted from your illness, but now he’s wondering if there might not be something more going on.

Are you angry at him that it took him so long to come and see you?

As he shuts the door then steps towards your coat rack, he hangs his hammer carefully before moving towards the kitchen no longer in uniform but in a plain gray t-shirt and dark blue jeans.

“Are you not well at all yet, cherub? Will you need more time away from home?” he stops by the edge of the island, his hand reaching over to poke at the smooth wooden counter nervously.

The longer you take to answer him, the more he thinks something must be wrong, beyond your falling ill.

There’s no possible way that you might have found out about-It’s almost too unbearable to think of but as you keep your back to him, hands calmly but with purpose filling your kettle with water and dropping tea bags into a pot, his stomach begins to churn.

“Y/N, if something is wrong, I-”

“I’m pregnant, Thor. I’ve known for a week. Since the day in your war room when you were telling Loki that you wanted to get an annulment so that you could marry Jane.”

Thor’s heart stops. Outside the storm grows nearer faster.

Any light left from the setting sun is snuffed out by the black clouds of thunder and rain that Thor’s panic pulls from the atmosphere.

“I was coming to tell you, but you left your door open. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop but then you said Jane was pregnant and for a moment I was hoping that maybe she was pregnant with someone else’s baby, but it didn’t sound like that’s what you were thinking so, I listened.

“My mind, at that moment, was a little foggy. You know? It took me a second to really think about what we could do. Because for me, I knew that even with this new hurdle, I wanted to overcome it with you. At your side.”

Thor watches as you step to the stove and light the burner, placing your kettle over it to boil.

His limbs are fuzzy, his mind a hive of buzzing bees and crackling electricity. His heart is still not beating but he can feel it breaking. Every fissure, every tear, he feels it from end to end. His mouth will not open and even if he had something to say, even if he could think enough to say it, you don’t sound finished and he will not interrupt you.

You move to pull two cups out from a cupboard and place one in front of the nearest stool to him, then the other on the island in front of the sink where you’ve been standing. You move the teapot over to the island too, then place both hands on the edge to lean all your weight against it.

Somehow, having you look at him is worse. He can see the heartbreak in your eyes, the betrayal. He can feel the anger surging beneath this calm exterior you’ve pasted on.

He’d rather have you rage at him, throw things at him, than see you keep your composure and think about this rationally. Because what can that mean? Have you given up on him? What does this mood of yours mean for your marriage?

“One of the first things I thought was that we should get Jane a room, or maybe a proper house where she and the baby could live because I could never keep you from your child. Not when they would be the rightful heir to the throne. And even if they weren’t going to be the heir, that baby would be your baby. Your child. So how can I ever keep them from you?

“I wasn’t exactly happy that Jane would be in our lives forever seeing as she is so openly…” you tut, looking up at the light fixture above as you search for the right word. “...not hostile. But she doesn’t like me. I could see it the moment she arrived but you seemed, I don’t know, oblivious of it? I’m not sure if that’s because it’s Jane or not, or if you seriously just didn’t notice?

“Every time we were alone, she always made sure to keep her distance. She never talked to me unless she absolutely had to, but as soon as you'd come into the room she was all politeness and sociable,” you laugh without humor. “I still have no idea how you didn’t notice.

“It was sad, honestly. It made me sad, a lot. But I kept my mouth shut because you trusted her so wholeheartedly even though I could feel the snake she was. Maybe I shouldn’t be saying this, especially since she’ll be part of our lives now, but-”

“She won’t.”

You stop talking, fixing your piercing gaze upon Thor and all he can do is shake his head in rebuttal of what you just said.

“She won’t be part of our lives,” he continues, explaining himself as quickly as he can.

Now that he’s got a word in, he’s eager to tell you how silly all of this has been. How stupid and unnecessarily taxing the stress was.

“She’s not pregnant,” Thor smiles, and he is glad to see your relief.

It’s brief and subdued, but it’s a small sigh and a relaxing of your shoulders.

After a moment you take several steps back to lean against the sink.

“So we have nothing to worry about,” Thor continues, hoping to latch onto his spark of hope.

He rounds the island with godly dexterity but you take a step back, looking up at him with narrowed eyes.

Your anger is less hidden now, and he can see the outrage in your face.

He stops his pursuit to give you space.

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

Your demand confuses him. Doesn’t it make you feel better? It makes him feel loads, tons, millions of times better.

“I-” he begins confused.

“You were willing to leave me...to end our marriage, for a baby that hadn’t even been confirmed yet. You think telling me that Jane not being pregnant so now you don't have to erase our marriage as if it never existed is gonna make this better?!”

Thor is speechless, trying desperately to understand the problem, the confusion. Why are you still angry?

“Y-yes, my cherub. No baby, no Jane, no need to figure anything out,” he insists.

“YOU CALL AN ANNULMENT FIGURING SHIT OUT?!”

Thor winces, never having heard you this angry before. You’re livid and that scream is directed directly at him. It takes him a moment to regain some composure but when he does, he sputters to get his story out.

“I-I admit that perhaps the moment of my finding out about Jane was not my finest. I just learned that the once woman I loved was having my child and the scandal that would bring upon my people-”

You scoff and turn away from him, moving back towards the stove as a small stream of steam begins to rise. It’s not hot enough yet though.

Thor doesn’t understand. You know how life works. You’ve been there daily, watching him say and do things that he wouldn’t normally do. He’s being forced just as much as you are to deal with things, only his opportunities are much richer in variation.

“You’re angry with me?” Thor knows this, but something about saying it out loud hits him with a harsh sense of injustice. “What choice would you have had me make?”

You stiffen at his new tone. He can see the shift in your body, and he instantly regrets the momentary anger that boiled his blood.

The way your shoulders slump has his heart beating wildly with new panic. How does he fix this? How can he make this up to you? How can the two of you find some common ground?

“Not this,” you say, quietly.

Thor almost doesn’t hear you but only almost..

“Y/N…” his voice is softer, negotiating in an attempt to calm you.

The placating tone has the opposite effect on you.

“The one thing I asked you to do is to be honest with me. I asked you not to make a fool of me and you did it anyway. You lied to me-”

“I didn’t lie-” Thor begins, but he knows that omitting the truth is almost as good as. His voice trails off.

“Not only did you lie to me but-but when we took our vows, I thought-”

Thor clenches his fists, watching you struggle to overcome some emotion that he can’t see because you’re still facing away from him.

“I feel so stupid,” you gasp, and as your voice hitches, Thor realizes that you’re crying.

He rounds the island but you turn to look at him, throwing your arm out towards him, “No!”

He freezes, breathing labored as his stomach aches. His heart tears again, searing pain ripping at his chest.

It only feels worse as he gets a good look at your face, tears streaming down along your cheeks as despair washes over you.

“Don’t touch me,” you beg of him and Thor can’t believe you mean it.

You can’t mean it.

“The only thing I’ve ever wanted was to have a family of my own,” your words aren’t weak or stuttering now.

Your voice is strong and sure, the week of uncertainty having firmed your resolve.

What have I done?

“When you married me, when you accepted me as part of your house, I thought that I’d finally found that. Not just in you but in Loki and Hilde and Heimdall and the rest of our people. And in three seconds, you took that away from me.

“You abandoned me,” you declare and Thor can’t stay silent anymore.

“No! No, Y/N, I have not abandoned you. I’m here. I’m right here. I came for you. To take you home!”

“BUT YOU THOUGHT ABOUT IT!”

Thor can see the frustration in you, the utter befuddlement you must have felt, the betrayal. There’s disappointment and fear but most of all there’s loss. You’ve lost something this week, and even though he doesn’t know what it is for sure, he can guess.

“You gave the thought a presence and you meant it. You would have left me!”

“No!” Thor protests, an anguished cry of his own sorrow. A refusal of your conclusions.

“That’s what I was coming to tell you today. I woke up with the firm belief that Jane was still with child and as soon as it was confirmed, I was going to come and tell you that even with her carrying my child, you are my Queen.

“Nothing could ever change that and the only life I can imagine living is one with you at my side.”

You’re already shaking your head in protest, already disbelieving him. Thor attempts to step closer but you renew your extended arm.

“No,” you tell him firmly, voice low and quiet with resentment. “I need you to stay away from me.”

“You want me to go?!” Thor asks in pained disbelief.

You keep shaking your head, not answering his question.

The silence in the kitchen is heavy and to Thor, it feels endless.

Too few mornings flash through his mind of you waking beside him to turn and recount your plans for the day, your hopes for your lives together. You’ve always wanted to talk to him. You’ve always wanted to be with him.

His touch has never been unwelcome even in the first days of your courtship.

Your eyes are still flooding over, lips trembling, chest rising and falling with the effort of your crying.

His own body is still. This is the lowest he’s ever felt and he’s not sure what moving will do to him.

The quiet is ripped apart by the slow build up of your kettle’s whistle, but you don’t move to take it off the heat.

“Should I leave, cherub?” Thor asks again, his deep voice weak with emotion at the very idea that you’ll tell him to go.

You reach up to wipe at your cheeks, fingertips sweeping new tears away from the edges of your eyes as more rush to replace them.

You reach over and take hold of your elbow.

You’re thinking about it. You’re actually thinking about whether he should leave.

“No,” you finally whisper, unable to say it any louder he guesses.

It probably goes against every instinct in your body to allow him to stay.

Because he needs something to do, because he can’t stand there and just watch you hate him, he turns around and goes back around the island so that he can go to the stove behind you and move the kettle.

Thor watches you follow him with your eyes as he moves then take a step away from him when he slides behind you to get to the stove.

You move to take your seat at the island and Thor pours the heated water into your teapot.

He places the lid on top, the clink of the ceramic loud in your silence.

Your shaking hands give him worry and he moves towards the small pantry to pull a tin of cookies you’d bought in New York during your honeymoon.

You’d gone on and on about how much you enjoyed them and now that memory feels like a lifetime ago.

A happier one.

He moves around the kitchen taking a large plate and loading it up with your cookies. He grabs the milk from the fridge and pulls the artificial sweetener from the far end of the island to move it closer to you.

He’s aware of your eyes on him still, watching his every move with a gaze to rival Heimdall’s. He doesn’t try to dress his actions up as anything other than what they are; concern.

He places your cup closer to you, fills it with tea, milk, and your sweetener. Once done, he moves back around to his side of the island and takes his seat once more.

~~~~~~~~~~

You’re almost angry enough to be petty. You almost want to take your tea and pour it out. Just to show him how much things aren’t okay.

The way he’d walked in here, brazen and as if he hadn’t attempted to take the only true family you’ve ever known and erase it...you can’t.

More because you need to relax, in fear of the little life growing inside you, you take the tea and take a sip.

Thor knows just how you like it.

He’s watching you, staring. He's full of self-loathing and what you'd once thought was love for you. Concern emanates off of him.

He reaches out, and for a moment you think he might take your hand.

You flinch, pulling both your hands onto your lap, but Thor’s hand only meets the edge of the plate of swedish dream cookies you’d bought on your honeymoon.

He pushes it towards you, and your heart aches painfully. This agony is unbearable.

Your lip quivers again, unable to contain the sorrow of what your marriage is now facing. You know just as he does that you're at an impasse. Tonight things between you will change.

For the better? For worse?

Thor loves you. You can see that. You saw it the moment he showed up, smiling and so happy to see you that his electric blue eye was beaming.

It was that love that made you so angry. It’s why you shouted when you’d promised yourself that when he came, you wouldn’t raise your voice.

Heimdall had been nice enough to give you warning this morning that Thor would be coming today and that nothing would deter him from seeing you.

You’d been so angry when you’d gotten the call, but you’d talked to Dr. Wilson about staying calm and she'd pointed out that having all of these unresolved feelings would do the baby more harm than good.

While deciding to resolve this today, choosing to stay calm had failed dramatically.

“Please, love, eat something,” Thor begs. "You're shaking. I know you've eaten nothing all day."

How the hell can he tell?! Was Dr. Wilson spying for him?

Even she'd been unable to force more than a few bites of a sandwich into your stomach. You've been dreading this confrontation all day.

Now that it’s here, it's worse than you imagined.

You hate how much hearing the pain in his voice also hurts you. You don’t want to feel any kind of sympathy for him right now. After what he said…

You eat because you’re worried about the baby. Not because Thor is asking.

One cookie is enough to help your queasy stomach feel better, a sip of tea settles your frayed nerves.

You relax a little, the tension in your body partially gone.

Neither you nor Thor say anything for a while and you’re grateful for the silence. You need lots of time to think.

While you think, you eat.

Cookie after cookie as your stomach groans in relief of finally being fed. Not exactly nutritious but it's something.

Despite your body's reaction to the unexpected junk food, the revelation that Jane isn’t pregnant after all is the only thing that you can really focus on.

You'd know she would try something. Not this though. You'd expected a pass at Thor. You'd expected her to try and get him back and you'd been so sure about his feelings for you that you'd been sure nothing would happen.

You hadn't expected her to find a way to reach in and pull it all up by its roots.

Finally, Thor clears his throat. There's and eager shine to his eye now, curiosity needing answers. In this moment you realize that his mind is filled with something else. Something much happier to think about that while it does bring you joy, you can’t share in that joy with Thor yet. Not after everything.

“Is it true?” he asks, the corners of his lips curved and the set of his brow eager. He can't help it. “Are you really pregnant?”

You meet his gaze and reach up to wipe the last of your tears away.

“I’m about three months? A little over. It would have happened during our honeymoon.”

Your explanation brings a smile to his face and he’s so beautiful you find yourself hardening again in defense.

"Your Asgardian blood was making it difficult for my doctors to confirm the pregnancy. The first was negative. The second, inconclusive, but then negative. The third was also inconclusive but this one didn't change to negative so they tried some other things and it finally showed positive.

"They tested my blood over and over. It’s real."

This is what both of you have been wanting since before you were married. You’d wanted to give him an heir and he’d wanted one. You’d wanted to start a family and he’d been desperate for the same.

This is the moment the two of you have been dreaming of and now that it’s here, it’s nothing like you’d pictured.

The joy you’d felt on your trip to the war room to give him the news is lost on you now. Tainted.

“Are-are you not happy?”

“How can you ask me that?” you frown, hostile resentment tainting your features.

He deflates at your tone and you almost regret letting how you feel show so openly.

Almost.

Thor’s face pales and he looks down at the island, his own cup still empty.

Because you do feel bad, though you don’t regret letting him know how angry you are, you get up and pull a beer from the fridge.

Placing it in front of him, you take your seat again.

Thor’s face floods with hope.

"The only reason you're here is because Heimdall knew you'd come. He saw that you were decided and would stop at nothing to come here but if he hadn't given me the warning, you'd be standing outside on the porch banging on the door asking me to let you in. You need to know that.."

Even though the hope in his eyes had made you so angry just a moment ago, as it disappears, you feel a surge of grief.

"I don't understand," Thor begins softly, both hands reaching across the island towards yours wrapped securely around your tea cup. "Why are you so angry, cherub?"

He's not putting it together? Does he seriously not see how what he did is a problem?

"I've told you that Jane is not pregnant so there will be no child and even before I'd found out, I had made my choice to stay with you. These are good things, aren't they?"

The wonder in his voice is real. The agony of his confusion is real.

Somehow you need to make him understand.

You scoff, trying hard not to be cynical after the blow you've taken to your pride.

"Do you remember the day we got married?"

"Vividly," Thor nods and attempts a smile.

A quick stern glare from you settles him down.

"Do you remember welcoming me into your house? Do you have any idea what becoming a member of your family has meant to me?

"I have lived my life alone, Thor. I had no one. From the day my parents died to the moment I agreed to marry you, there was not a single person who I belonged to who also belonged to me.

"Marrying you gave me a home. It gave me people to call my own. It gave me a kingdom full of loving and loyal subjects.

"Marrying you took my loneliness and destroyed it. I had a brothers, sisters, and a husband who I thought loved me as one of his own. I thought you had accepted me as part of your family until the day I died."

You sigh, voice tight and always on the verge of breaking into tears.

"I have, cherub. You are my everything!" Thor’s interruption doesn't phase you this time.

You keep talking as if he'd said nothing.

"And when I've finally done it, when we've finally got what we wanted, you throw me away."

"No!" Thor rises and moves around the island towards you.

This time you don't stop him because nothing he says or does will change your mind. Nothing will fix this.

He sweeps you into his arms, pulling you close so that you have to look up at his face from your spot in your seat. His massive hands caress the sides of your face as his pleasant warmth chases away the horrible nightmares you’ve had all week.

But his arms, his touch, can’t chase away the break in your heart. It can’t fix the pain that feels etched into your veins. Your sinew is rewritten with the agony of his fleeting choice to leave you. Nothing will ever be the same.

“I didn’t throw you away, I was confused. I didn’t know what to do or what the best course of action was. I should have come to you. I should have told you about Jane and I should have consulted with you, my wife, my Queen before making any rash decisions.

“I know that I did wrong, but believe me when I tell you that I love you more than my own life. I can’t imagine my life without you, cherub. I’m sorry that I have caused you such distress. I am sorry that I made you think, even for one second, that I could make my way through this existence without you.

“I love you. And I am never letting you go.”

Your heart is unmoved. Even as he stares down at you with his eye clear and sure. The set of his jaw is firm, and his hands keep stroking your cheeks, temples, and scalp as you watch the fire in him fade.

Slowly, he realizes that the damage is done.

It takes him a long time. His body falls, shoulders slumping, arms not so tight around you, hands a little more gentle. It’s the set of his lips that tells you when he’s accepted it. That he’s broken you and your marriage and there is no repair here.

Not now.

“What will you do?” he asks, hands gliding down along the sides of your neck, shoulders, arms, and elbows where he finally lets go and moves back around the island to take his seat again, throwing himself down in defeat as his hand wraps around his beer.

“I’m still your wife, Thor,” you sigh, turning to look at your cup of tea. “I am still Queen of New Asgard. I’ll do my job as best as I can, from here.”

“Here?” he asks, shocked.

“I can’t go back to the palace. Not right away. I need...I meant it when I said that I needed a break.”

“From me?” Thor guesses, and you can see his heartbreaking.

“From us, yes.”

“How long?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “A few weeks? Months? Years?”

He looks more devastated the longer you speak.

“I don��t know how long it will take me to trust you again. When you told Loki that you’d get an annulment and make me out to be the problem by my not giving you any kids, you took any faith and confidence I had in us and your love for me and flushed it down the toilet.

“I can’t just pretend that didn’t happen. Even though we have nothing to worry about now, I can’t just forget the way I felt. I’m gonna need time.”

The war raging within Thor right now is painful to watch. You can safely assume that he’s almost refusing to go another day without you, much less weeks, months, or years.

You can also see the regret he’s feeling. The anger. It passes quickly though, and Thor takes another long drink from his beer, draining the bottle before he sets it aside.

He reaches up to wipe at his fuzzy lips, his beard scratchy as he breathes in deeply.

He meets your gaze and nods, “I will give you whatever you need. I will send you a guard. I don’t want you here alone.”

You’re not about to oppose the protection. Not with the baby on the way.

“You should probably make the announcement of the baby. And give some excuse about me staying away. Our people deserve to know. They’ve been waiting too.”

“Mm.” Thor agrees. “What shall I tell the others?”

“Loki already knows. He’s known since I came here.”

“What?!”

“Hey, no!” you frown at him, anger tinging your words. “You can’t be angry at Loki for doing as I asked. I’ve been alone up here waiting to know whether you’re going to leave me or not. He only did what I needed.”

Thor’s anger passes through him in phases. In seconds, he’s calm again, but still breathing through flared nostrils.

“Why did you not tell me? If you’d told me sooner-”

“If I’d told you sooner then I wouldn’t know if you were with me because you love me or because the baby was finally coming. I didn’t want to live the rest of my life never knowing whether your sticking by me in this marriage is because I was finally having our kid. That’s not the kind of life that I want for myself.

“I’m not sorry that I didn’t tell you, Thor. Because even if I can’t trust you, at least I know whether you’d decided not to leave me before you knew I was pregnant.”

Thor’s face is full of sorrow. He’s coming to terms with everything as quickly as he can since you’re not giving him much choice. Are you wrong to put some distance between the two of you?

Should you forgive and forget?

Part of you, the part that loves the man you married, wants to reach out and touch his cheek. You want to tell him that you love him and that nothing will ever change that. You want to celebrate the future you have growing inside you and revel in the fact that Jane’s lie is over and move on with your lives.

The bigger part of you can’t trust his words. Can’t trust his touch. In a few moments, Thor had torn apart the truths of every caress and declaration that he’d made since you got married.

The bigger part of you knows that you can’t trust him. The bigger part of you knows that he could hurt you again. He might very well rip your heart in two for good the next time, and what kind of life can you have like that?

No. As much as your heart loves him, your brain is telling you to play this cautiously from here on out.

“I’ll come to any functions I need to. I’ll make sure I’m there on your arm. But don’t expect things to be the same between us Thor.”

He nods in defeat, “Can I fix this? Is there anything I might do to prove to you that my love is real?”

“It’s not a question of me not believing that you love me,” you explain, sighing lightly as you come to these realizations yourself as Thor makes you face the inevitabilities you’ve been avoiding all week.

You’ve tried hard to keep from pondering the future with or without him. Now that he’s asking, you can’t avoid it anymore.

“I know that you can’t put me before your throne. I know that your people have to come first. I’ve known that since I married you and when I talked to Loki and David about what happened they both told me what I already know.

“You have responsibilities to our people first and foremost and any choices, whether you want to make them or not, are made for them. I can never be first for you. I know that. My mind knows that. It’s honorable that you will always do right by your people.

“But my heart can’t accept that,” you’ve been trying to keep from crying again but as you admit your insecurity aloud, your heart clenches painfully drawing from your eyes a welling of tears. “Because I’ve fallen in love with you completely, Thor. I never knew that loving someone could be this terrifying and painful. Just the thought that you’d decided to make our marriage disappear as if it had never happened ripped me to pieces and I don’t know how to come back from that.”

You sob and Thor leans over the island to take your hand. You don’t pull away this time. You let him give you this small bit of comfort because you need it. Your heart, the fact that he wants to touch you, needs it.

“Even if it was only for a moment, you left me. I want to be first for you. I want to be the only thing that matters. And I can’t be. And I know that. Which makes me feel like such shit because I shouldn’t be asking you for this. I know that you can’t give it to me.

“It’s why Jane told you no. Along with her job, I know that it’s the reason that she couldn’t marry you. She knew that for you, she would always come second to New Asgard.

“I knew that too. When I agreed to marry you, I knew that you’d have to do things for them first. But I love you so much and I-it sucks that I know now if you have to choose between me or your people, you’ll choose your people.

“It’s right. You should. But it fucking sucks and it hurts too much.”

You’re full on crying now and Thor gets up, but you raise your hand to stop him. With a shake of your head he sits back down.

“So…” you sniffle. “What you can do for me is give me the distance I need to work through this. I need to come to terms with the fact that after our baby is born, I’ll be third. I need to just learn and accept that no matter how much you say you love me, you can never choose me.

“Can you give me that? Can you give me space?”

As you meet his gaze, his intense unrelenting stare, you can see him warring with himself. You can see the confusion and the indecision. You can see the agony of what you’re asking of him but somehow he manages to nod.

His own eye waters and after a second nod, his tears spill over to trail across his cheek and lose themselves in his beard.

“I’m sorry, cherub,” he grieves. “I never meant to hurt you like this.”

“I know that, Thor. But I have to find out how much of myself I can invest in our marriage. Because if loving you like this means I have to feel this kind of pain over and over again, I don’t think I can keep loving you. Not like this.”

Your words hurt him and you regret them, but you can’t take them back because they’re truth. You need to guard yourself and you aren’t going to apologize for putting yourself first when no one else in your life will.

The silence is never ending.

The two of you sit sniffling at the island for what feels like hours. Finally, your stomach rumbles loudly and Thor springs up from his seat to the fridge.

He starts pulling out an array of ingredients that you don’t pay too much mind to.

He fills the house with the smells of chicken, paprika, rosemary, lemon, and some other spices you can’t pick out. It makes your stomach growl more loudly and at least with his mind and hands busy making your dinner, he stops crying and that at least gives you a little bit of a break from the horror you’ve been feeling at causing him so much pain with your choice to distance yourself from him.

“Might I stay the night?” he checks, surprising you a bit by the question.

“On the couch,” you whisper, unable to speak any louder.

The idea of him sleeping in the same space but not next to you is unbearable, but somehow you find a way to deal.

His hand stutters over the pan but after a moment he goes back to cooking.

“The couch is fine,” he agrees. “Whatever you need, love.”

And even though his words tell you he’s fine, you know him well enough to recognize the depression in his stoic gaze.