#i've seen some fics explore it better than i did i just leaned towards the shits and giggles cause

[somdxr]

wanted to wait a little before i posted this but. oh well

[kileyrose-2003]

Tina’s Tuesday Night Mini Fic Pt. 1

Word count: Who cares? Lol

A/N: Hi lovelies! I am back!! First thing, I know. You're probably saying Kiley, wtf? It's not Tuesday. I know. Life happened. I've had a busy past few days and a final today. Anyways, this was something I did with @merci-bitch when the U.S originally went on lockdown. It was a fun way to keep me busy and get my mind off of stuff. We both decided to restart this about a week ago. So, I dedicate this to my dear friend Tina. Love you hun and hope you enjoy this! And please, if you haven't been to her blog to read any of her work, go do so. She works so hard on what she writes and is amazing.

Pt. 2 will be coming next week

To everyone waiting on fics: I'll get there. Eventually. And I'm not going into reasoning. But anyways, love you all and I hope you have a great day!

"...This is the greatest show!" You slammed your hands down on the piano keys and breathed in sharply. "God damn it, Jenny!"

"What?" You let a groan and handed her the sheet music. "Look there at that line there. Do you see that note?”

“I can see, can’t I?” Her bright green eyes lost their cool shade of arrogance when she seen how pissed you look. "Not F!” You pointed to the paper in her hand. “D! You hear that note there?" You pressed down on the key repeatedly. "D!"

"Sorry." The red head smiled at you impishly. "No, you're not. This is the fifth time we've done this and yet you still insist on doing this your own way." She sat next to you on the piano bench and gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Well, I think the change makes it sound better.”

“Phineas liked it better this way,” you seethed through gritted teeth. “But what does he know of art?” You could feel your face slowing turning a distinct shade of cherry red and you bit down on your tongue.

"He must of known something with how much you tried to get in his pants," you mused to yourself.

You rolled your eyes. You loved Jenny to death but how you couldn't stand her at times. You tried and tried so desperately to get along with her and compromise when she was like this but no matter what you did, she was stubborn and so..cold at times.

Sure, Jenny was a bit of a snob but she was a genius when it came to music and you respected that. She was what inspired you to take up music in the first place.

Your childhood was far from easy. Before you even joined the circus, you were bounced all over the place. You never belonged anywhere. From the deteriorating cottage in a small, seaside village in Sweden to the cramped one bedroom apartment in London that no one would dare walk past at night. Your father was no where to be seen and your mother was an actress, always struggling to meet ends meet. She was never home, but that wasn't always a bad thing. That meant you got to explore.

That was how you got to hearJenny sing for the first time. Hiding out in the musty attic of an old Swedish theatre. Even before she hit extreme levels of fame, her voice was like a siren's call. Drawing you in further and further in. It still was in a way. She was so beautiful and even as much as she pissed you off, you loved watching her sing. Like the time at the palace. She was eye candy in that dress, the way it hugged her hips and how the bust showed the slightest bit of clevage when you looked at her at just the right angle-

"Stop it, Y/n!" You told yourself. "She's not interested in you."

Or was she? The way she looked at you when you spoke to Phineas was always with such contempt or such jealousy. You could never understand why though. It was her who tried to steal Phineas away. Not you. He was a close friend who gave you a chance when you had nothing and you never so much as even thought of eyeing him in such a manner. Phineas clearly wasn't interested in her or any other woman but his wife. He pushed her away numerous times. Jenny had no reason to be jealous of you. Yet, she was.

‘But it is of me or others though?"

One could never be sure with Jenny. Sure, there was a bit of a rivalry between the two of you when it came to music. But she was your friend. 'Very clingy for just a friend,' you noted.

'That's normal though, isn't it?'

Maybe you were just over thinking things. Besides, the relationship between the two of you seemed to be getting better lately. Ever since the scandal went public, it seemed the two of you were spending more and more time together.

You were the only one who listened to her side of the story, held her when she cried, made sure she wasn't drinking her emotions away, and tried to help her through it. Even as much as she pissed you off. You warned her in the first place not to seek out Phineas but despite the nasty arguments, the constant bickering she became your friend. Maybe even your best friend. Which you got alot of shit for.

Nobody liked Jenny and you were starting to get the feeling you weren't so popular anymore either. Everyone thought after the affair went public, the two of you would of left. Her name as well as yours, was slandered all over the paper simply because you associated with her. You had been called it all. The ring leader, the mastermind, the mistress to the two.

But neither of you resigned. Yet. Part of you wondered how long it would be until either would receive letters of negotiations to end your contract. But either way, you knew Jenny wasn't leaving without you. She promised you that.

'So maybe she does like me.'

Then that small voice came in the back of your head. 'Or maybe you just want her to like you back.'

Either way, you couldn't let that haunt your conscience for now. Even as much as you'd like to visualize a future with her, it wouldn't work. You could feel the heat pooling into your cheeks as you came back to reality and bit down on your lip. Jenny's hand was lingering up and down your back, rhythmically making shapes with the tips of her fingers. Damn her and her touch! You shouldn't be feeling this way.

"Are you okay?" You shook your head and covered your face with your hands, trying not focus on all the pain you felt inside. "No. No, I’m not."

You felt tears burning in the sides of your eyes. "This isn’t working!” Jenny furrowed her brow and tried to move your hands away from your face. “What do you mean?” She was trying to be gentle even though you could tell from the look in her eyes she had no clue what to do.

“This..all of this!” You ripped the sheet music out of her hand and flung it on top of the piano. “Something's got to give,"

She rolled her eyes as if she seen it all before and stood up, walking hastily over to the ice bucket. "Do you not have what you want?" She opened up a bottle of red wine. "Fame? Recogniton?"

"It's not enough and I don't know if I even have any of that anymore." Jenny eyed you as she poured the liquor heavily into both glasses. "I'm not liked here, Jenny."

She handed you your glass and sat down next to you. You eagerly took a sip of the wine, just wanting to forget everything for a little while. "That's not true. I like you." She leaned in closer to you.

You cracked a small grin filled with cynicism. Maybe even a little bit of hostility. Never had you felt so much love and hate towards someone at the same time. "We could both leave." Jenny's voice pulled you out of your head.

"And go where?"

"Back to Sweden with me for the time being." You noticed the intensity in Jenny's eyes growing and she reached out and grabbed your hand. You could feel her nimble gently squeezing into the palm of your hand. "You know I care for you, Y/n."

"Do you?" You tried your hardest not to sound sarcastic, you were still a little mad at her. But god! How close she was to you. You could smell her expensive perfume, see the slight hint of a shimmer radiating off of her lips. "You're fiery and you don't take my shit."

This couldn't be real. You had to be dreaming. "Jenny, this...there's a possibility this couldn't work." You tried to scoot away from her, a little intimidated by the proximity between the two of you.

"We can try to make it work."

"How?" You eyed her skeptically. "Let me take you out. Let me show you I can make this work." You furrowed your eyebrows. "Why? Need a new fling after Phineas?" You teased.

Jenny wasn't amused by that all. If anything she was pissed but she smiled anyways. Seeming to stoop down to your level with a smile that was sickly sweet. "More like a date."

"And why should I do this with you?" She let go of your hand and placed it on your thigh. "Because I probably understand you alot more than you think." As you looked into Jenny's eyes, you found some level of sincerity mixed into those deep lustful orbs. You wanted to trust her so badly.

"What do I have to lose?" You thought.

Everything. Everything to lose.

"Fine." You gave in, despise everything in your mind screaming not too. "But you have one shot and one shot only."

Jenny nodded and leaned forward to place a gentle kiss on your cheek. "And it won't take me more than once to impress. After all, I already made your career." You felt the hair on your arms stand straight up as her hands lingered on you, gently squeezing your hips.

"I'll see you tomorrow at 6. Sharp."

"Yeah," you watched as Jenny walked away, her hair flowing behind her like a beautiful sheath.

You felt a pit growing in the depths of your stomach. What the hell had you gotten yourself into?

[getlitaesthetic]

Gosh all I've been able to think about for the last 5 hours is MC getting teleported into another reality for a shortish period of time (be it time magic glitch or curse or whatever) and coming back so extremely traumatized and the canon bros have no idea what the hell happened or how to help, because how do you help someone who trembles when you glance at them. Keep thinking about little habits MC'd pick up too and OUCH

The idea that anyone spends any amount of time thinking about my content makes my heart sing, so thank you anon! This works better as a fic, so I hope you enjoy, the rest is under the cut! NSFW and TW for graphic violence, abuse, and trauma.

WORD COUNT: 5.3K

THE BEGINNING:

MC had made... a mistake. Well, several mistakes in succession, really. Just a lot of them. They had gone to the Demon Lord’s castle for tea with Barbatos over his short amount of downtime throughout the day, and as enjoyable as those 10 minutes were, he was quickly called away back to Diavolo’s side for some errand or another. The result was that MC was left alone in the kitchen, after profuse assurance that they knew how to find their way out on their own.

That was mistake one. MC very much did not know the way out on their own. They stumbled into room after room, peeking at things and hoping for an exit they simply could not find. Well, they thought, if I’m here, I might as well explore. Their poking became more deliberate, as they entered a room where everything was covered in tarps.

Which was mistake two. Never go into a room in a magical demon palace where everything is covered. Common sense would have told them as much, but clearly they lacked much of that to be in this situation in the first place. MC tugged the covers off of each object as they passed, unveiling items that hadn’t been touched in centuries, and one that had been last touched months before at a student council meeting. The mirror was, of course, the least interesting of the bunch they had found so far, and instead they turned to the box that sat in front of it, crouching down as they pried it open.

The wooden lid squealed as it shifted, sending up a shower of dust and spiders that made MC cough and gasp, rubbing their eyes as they jumped to their feet, falling backwards in shock. They hit the glass of the mirror, but it didn’t feel solid, the way glass should. At first it felt like latex, conforming to their skin as they leaned back, but it quickly lost substance, and, as if falling through a pool of thick water, they were gone.

LUCIFER:

MC hit the hard ground with a heavy thud, groaning as they rubbed their head. They looked down, expecting to be soaked after their long, liquid fall, but they were dry, dusty even. Frowning in confusion, MC climbed to their feet, blinking quickly to clear their eyes as they finally looked around at where they had landed. The land was scorched and cracked, the sky red as dark clouds collected and thundered. A storm was coming. MC shivered, rubbing their arms, though it wasn’t cold outside. Something wasn’t right. Quickly, they turned, looking for the mirror they had fallen through, but it was nowhere in sight.

Thank God there was a familiar form cresting the deadened hill a short distance away. “Lucifer?” MC squinted, jumping up and waving their arms excitedly. They were saved! Lucifer had to know what to do, right? He always did. The form noticed their waving arms and started towards them. Soon, he was clearly visible, and MC flinched backwards at the sight. This was not Lucifer. He was too tall, his face so much more captivating. His wings dragged behind him in tattered pieces, his eyes were entirely red, without sign of a pupil... and his clothes. They were more like armor than the usual peacock feathered overcoat he usually wore. “M-My bad, I was looking for Lucifer,” MC laughed nervously, rubbing the back of their neck as they took a halting step backwards.

But it was too late. This malevolent force was already directly in front of them. “MC?” He questioned, his voice more of a hiss than the comforting, firm tone they were used to from him. “What in Hell’s name are you doing here? I thought I taught you better than to attempt escape.” His brow furrowed, sure he had chained them up before he had left. How had they gotten out, let alone this far out into the wilds of the Devildom, without harm? And this was not the outfit he had dressed them in this morning, all soft pastels instead of the black silks he preferred.

The demon shook off his confusion, grabbing MC by the arm, lifting them off the ground to look into their eyes as they hung from his too-tight grip. They swallowed uncomfortably. “I-I--”

“No,” he growled, “no excuses. You know the punishment that comes with an action like this.” Lucifer dropped them to the ground, kicking them hard in the ribs. MC wheezed, the breath leaving their lungs far too quickly. Their mind felt like it was overheating as they rolled over, trying to crawl away, only for a heavy foot to land on their left leg, breaking it with a sharp CRACK. MC cried out in pain, curling into a ball as they tried to protect their injured parts.

“Lucifer!” They sobbed. “It’s me! It’s MC!”

“Clearly,” the demon snarled, bending over to tangle his long, sharp claws in their hair, yanking hard and once again lifting them into the air as desperate tears streamed down their cheeks. “It’s time you learned your lesson for such disrespect.” MC twisted in his grasp, feeling a chunk of hair as it was ripped from their head as they fell on their knees. MC rose shakily on their one good leg, limping away as quickly as they could. 

Lucifer laughed at the sight, letting them inch away until they were almost at the treeline, where an abandoned pile of junk someone had left out set. It was entertaining to watch them fight, as if they could win this. But he quickly lost interest in watching, stepping up to spin them around, only for MC to lose balance on their injured leg and fall backwards, hitting the junk pile, and the cold not-water once again.

The furious Avatar of Pride let out a hideous bellow as he punched the old piece of glass left laying on the ground, now shattered.

MAMMON:

A cold rush of air, and MC grabbed their leg as they hit plush carpet, sucking in lungful after lungful of sweet oxygen. They were... healed? No, no that didn’t make sense, they were certain they’d just had a broken leg, likely a broken rib as well. MC reached up to feel their bleeding scalp, but everything was just the same as it had been before they had fallen. Carefully, gingerly, they sat up on their knees, hesitant to look around. Just from the soft rug beneath them they knew they were not back in the palace. But if not there, where?

Finally, MC gathered the courage to raise their eyes to the rest of the room, and they gasped. The walls were lined in beautiful things. A wall, dedicated to the most expensive watches they had ever seen, and another with a collection of what had to be original lost paintings from the human realm-- they knew, because Satan had recently taken them on a date to a Devildom art museum exhibit where these exact works had been on display. Were they in the museum, then? They didn’t recall seeing all those watches there.

Then, noise. Coming from the hallway. MC sagged in relief at the familiar tone of Mammon’s voice, but once again a chill ran down their spine as they realized something was off. It was what he was saying, it just didn’t make any sense.

“Aye! Listen, you freakshow son of a bitch. I don’t care if you corrupted the GODDAMN Pope, if you don’t get my fucking money by the end of the day, your soul quota will be the least of your worries, got that?”

MC shrunk in on themselves, glancing around for a place to hide, but found nothing. The room was empty of furniture, only the walls covered in such expensive prizes. Mammon sighed as he shoved open the door. “Hey, MC, what are you doing here? I thought I just told you to get dressed to go out. You don’t look dressed.”

MC’s jaw dropped, and they squeaked out a quiet apology. Mammon looked different. Rich. They never thought they’d see the day where Mammon was dressed head to toe in designer clothes, and clearly without the stress of how he would pay for it.

“Well? You gonna get off your ass and do it, or do I have to start chopping pieces again?”

“Wha--” MC’s question never had time to hit air, as Mammon lost his patience, grabbing them by the hand to pull them up, only to freeze solid.

“MC?”

“Uh, um.. yeah?”

“Where’s your ring?

“My... ring?”

Clearly, Mammon was not pleased with the answer, his eyes turning stormy, and his casual smile souring. “Yeah. Your ring. The one that cost over half a million Grimm. That ring.”

“Oh, I, uh...”

“Not good enough, Doll.” The demon pulled them towards a door on the other side of the room. Dread pooled in MC’s stomach. Did a different room count as a secondary location? They heard you don’t get to live if you’re taken to a secondary location. The door opened into a room full of equipment, and their eyes widened in fear. The walls were lined in mirrors, presumably so they could witness their own torture.

Mammon cuffed their hand to a table, and no amount of yanking and pleading was getting it off. A buzzing sound started, the loud whine deafening MC as their heart turned into a hummingbird.

One by one, burning heat overwhelmed their nerves, and fingers began to fall away.

MC screamed.

Eventually, some unknown time later, MC blinked themselves awake, alone in the dark room with the fingers of their left hand in a discard pile beside them. Sobbing, they gathered the digits, shoving them into their pocket as they pounded on the door, to no avail, and then to the each of the mirrors. Nothing happened.

After an hour of futile knocking and screaming, their left hand covered in blood, they leaned their back against one of the mirrors, and slid to the ground, only to fall right through the cold glass.

LEVIATHAN:

Not again. Not again not again not again. This time, MC recognized where they were immediately. Undoubtedly this was Levi’s room, but already they were cringing backwards. Once again, things weren’t right. The fish in his room, they weren’t right, all staring hungrily and biting at the glass with sharp teeth. The wall reserved for collectibles was instead covered in old army pictures and weapons covered in glass. They tried the door with no success, and the only attatched room was the bathroom. Acting quickly, MC made the certainly unwise decision to break into the containers. If they had a weapon, maybe... 

They searched for a heavy item to break the glass, but found nothing, anything that could remotely be used for defense was chained or screwed down. They lifted their hands, sighing in relief that, if nothing else, all of their fingers were back where they were meant to be. With no other choice, MC reeled back with all of their strength, and punched the solid covering to one of the sharper looking items, even though they didn’t recognize a single one as a standard weapon. Once. Twice.

Immediately, an alarm blared, and their heart sank. MC inspected the glass as their heart pounded. Only the tiniest hairline crack, not enough to really damage the integrity of the case, and a speck of blood. They heard keys outside the door, and panicked, rushing to sit on the bed, looking terrified. Maybe, if they played along, they wouldn’t get hurt again.

“Levi!” MC cried out when he opened it, rushing into his arms. They knew Levi, he was just a nerdy little demon who wanted to be loved for who he was. They could play that part, they could! But they still hadn’t come to terms with the fact that this wasn’t the Levi they knew. “I was taking a nap and the alarm started going off! Please make it stop!” Hidden behind Levi’s back, MC’s fist was already throbbing from the punch.

How easy to be reminded that this was not their Levi, though, when he pushed them back, eyes narrowed. “The alarm doesn’t just go off, MC, what did you do?”

“Me? I didn’t do anything, I swear!” They flinched back, already anticipating the pain that was to come. After all, Lucifer and Mammon hadn’t needed any proof to start breaking them. The pain didn’t come, though. Not immediately.

“Sit down,” he pointed to the bed. MC nodded quickly, shoulders dipped as they slunk away as quickly as possible. It would be harder for the envious demon to hurt them from across the room anyways. Levi headed straight for the pictures and weapons, inspecting each of them carefully, until he came to the one MC had managed to inflict minor damage on. He sniffed, leaning in and licking the blood from the glass. 

“That’s your blood,” he stated bluntly.

MC felt themselves go pale. “My blood? That can’t be right,” they tried to defend, but it was clearly too late. Levi’s tail lashed out, wrapping them up tightly, dragging them towards the bathroom. They wanted to cry, but all they felt was the burning of tears that refused to fall.

Levi kept them trapped as he filled the large, deep sink with water. Dread filled the pit of MC’s stomach. Certainly he wouldn’t-- They gasped as he dunked their head under, holding them under as they thrashed in the too-tight grip of the demon’s tail. He lifted them out of the water, and MC gasped, desperately sucking in air as their lungs burned, only for him to do it again. He held them under until their thrashing weakened, dizziness setting in.

He held MC up once again, looking them in the eyes as he slammed the back of their skull against the bathroom mirror, the human’s eyes rolling back as they passed out, blood trickling down their head. Levi’s grip loosened around them as he stared in shock at the sight of his lover sliding backwards through the glass.

SATAN:

They had no idea how much time had passed by the time they came to, but they were thankful for the lack of throbbing in their hand, and the ability to breathe. Satan. He had to be next. Sure, their common sense might be lacking, but MC still had basic pattern recognition on their side. Terror filled their veins as they realized that meant they weren’t even halfway through the day’s horror. 3 down, 4 to go. Then it’s all over... I hope, MC thought as they dragged themselves to their feet, ignoring the wave of dizziness that momentarily took them over.

Swallowing thickly, MC took in their surroundings. This place, at least, was far more familiar than any of the others so far. The library of RAD. They did not look closer, not wanting to know what was wrong, but if they had they would have noticed the dark theme of every book on the shelves. The library was empty, save for the sound of one other shuffling through books around the corner. MC didn’t desire to know who it was, opting to take a seat in one of the heavy, straight-backed chairs circling the nearest round table, meant for a group of 6.

There was no surprise when Satan turned the corner, arms stacked with books, but MC’s heart dropped into their stomach regardless. He was beautiful. More beautiful than they ever could have imagined, and they stopped breathing, just for a moment, as if they’d forgotten how. A blush pooled in MC’s cheeks as they stared, lips parted just slightly.

Satan laughed softly, offering a cheeky smile. “Well, darling? Are you going to pull the chair out for me or not?” They nodded quickly, rushing to his aid, but fear began to fill them as they saw his gorgeous face crease in the forehead, a small frown on his lips. “MC, you’re not wearing the dress I gave you. Did something happen?”

Their voice caught in their throat, but he seemed so genuine, so sweet, how could they leave him without answers? “It got dirty,” they mumbled, looking to the carpeted floor.

“Look at me,” he insisted, frown deepening. Something wasn’t right. He had trained such poor behavior out of his lovely MC long ago.

They looked up, bottom lip already trembling, and he knew something was deeply wrong. Satan set the pile of books on the table, taking MC into his arms, where they shook violently against his chest, the heaving sobs coming quickly. “Now, now,” he sighed. “I’ll make it better. I always do, don’t I?”

After all of the pain of the day, and the comfort of finally being held, MC barely noticed the sharp stab of the needle in their lower back as he slid his warm hands under their shirt. They blinked dreamily as they slowly relaxed, Satan catching them as they nearly collapsed to the floor.

Once again, they came to in a strange place. A room, decorated with soft things, a white vanity covered in makeup in front of them. They were smiling, their mind finally calm, and they were dressed in a darling floral getup that restricted their breathing just a little. MC tried to pause to think about it, something tugging in their chest saying they should be afraid, but it was too far to catch.

They hummed delightedly as they leaned forwards, hiding their dark under eye circles. Satan will be so proud! It was a thought they had never had before, but it felt perfectly in place here. The door clicked, and they looked up to find the smiling demon, melting once again at the sight of him. “Welcome back!” MC exclaimed brightly. Satan crossed the room, cupping their neck in his hand as he leaned forwards to kiss them, tilting them backwards until the back of their head pressed the glass of the vanity, and they tumbled through.

ASMODEUS:

MC’s head was suddenly incredibly clear as they dropped into a comfortable bed full of extra soft pillows. A hideous shudder racked their body, and they felt so dirty when they thought about Satan, and how he had clearly drugged them. More than that, their stomach rolled heavily, threatened to make them wretch when they realized that in a sick way, they had kind of liked it.

They forced themselves to shake it off as they looked around what must have been Asmo’s room. To be honest, it wasn’t all that shocking. The ceiling and the wall across from the bed were both made entirely of large mirrors, and sex toys lined the two side walls. The last wall was saved for the enormous bed that MC now laid on. As much as they wanted to sleep, to rest, even for a moment, they knew they had to get out as quickly as possible. All that was left after this was the twins, right? Maybe, if they were lucky, they shared a world the way they shared a room! So far, the constant in the escape had been mirrors. That was easy here, they were huge and readily available!

MC stood on shaky legs and made their way to the mirror wall, pounding on it with the side of their fist. “Hello?” They cried out. “C’mon! Let me through, please let me through!” Then, a floral scent filled the room, and it made MC’s head spin.

Thoughts of escape were quickly fading, replaced by the need to focus on the beautiful scent surrounding them. Their vision went dark, but they couldn’t find it in them to gasp. No matter, as it was quickly restored, when Asmo removed his hands from their eyes, revealing himself in the mirror behind them.

“Surprise!” He crooned, and MC could feel hot desire pool low in their stomach.

“Oh,” MC moaned softly, relaxing into his arms, still facing the mirror. 

“Naughty thing! You want me to fuck you against the mirror?”

“Mmm, y- uh... yesss...” Words were becoming increasingly difficult, and they leaned their forehead against the glass as their bottoms were yanked down, their ass pressed against the long, hard bulge of Asmo’s cock.

“Hmm... Only if you really deserve it! What’s your name, sweetie?”

“Umm...” MC’s brow furrowed as they tried to remember, but it was gone. A blank spot in their memory. They looked for any other information about themselves, but it all came up empty, as they were thoroughly distracted by how needy they were becoming for the hot length they were rubbing against.

Asmodeus giggled in delight, spinning MC around to face him, invading their mouth with his tongue as he guided their hand to his cock, which they mindlessly began to stroke. Up and down, up and down, good pets stroke up and down... 

The demon seemed pleased with that, shoving their back hard against the mirror as he lifted them up to straddle his waist, only for MC to slip away into the rippling glass.

“Hey! But I was horny!”

BEELZEBUB:

MC was not lucky. The twins most definitely did not share a world, and they guessed it as soon as their ass hit the hard tile of the kitchen floor. They had to shake their head to regain a semblance of proper thought back, whining to themselves as they tried to use the counter to pull themselves to their feet. The counter was much taller than MC remembered, and they settled for using one of the drawers instead.

After a long minute with their forehead resting on the cool marble, things seemed mostly back to normal. At least now they remembered their own name. MC hesitated, ideas of what they could possibly be looking forward to with Beel running in a jumble through their not-quite-unscrambled head. The kitchen was empty. MC’s shoulders began to shake, as their body was wracked with silent sobs. They couldn’t handle any more of this. They couldn’t. But what other choice did they have? More than that, what could possibly be left? They’d been tortured physically, mentally, emotionally, and it was getting harder to see an end to the constant pain. How long had it even been? Hours? Days, weeks, years, was anyone even looking for them?

MC was shaken from their thoughts as heavy steps entered the kitchen. Beelzebub didn’t bother to speak to them, just picking them up and setting them on the counter as he took out a massive pot, cutting board, cleaver, meat tenderizer, seasoning, and began to rummage through the refrigerator for ingredients. His body began to... shift, his stomach sinking into his body, as he grew taller, arms thickening. He opened his mouth, and all that came out was a deep groan as his stomach growled. 

Unsure what to do, MC stayed frozen still, as if he would forget they were there, but as previously mentioned, luck was not something on MC’s side. Beel dropped a massive armful of groceries on the counter, and lifted the cleaver.

MC’s eyes widened, mouth opening to scream, but it was too late. He severed the bottom half of their leg without a word, and began preparing it for his stew. MC went pale, and passed out, tumbling to the floor. They woke minutes later, but stayed motionless on the floor, in shock at what had happened.

When he finished making his food, he picked up MC with one arm, and the pot with the other, carrying them both back to the dining room, and setting MC in a chair as he began to eat in front of them. Their stomach rolled at the sight of their own leg being ravenously devoured in front of their own eyes, and pushed out of the chair to vomit ungracefully on the floor beside them. Beel didn’t stop eating, but laughed heartily.

“Not hungry, MC?”

They shook their head, before noticing the mirror mounted on the wall near the table, sagging with relief, before realizing they honestly had no idea how the mirrors worked. Pounding on it hadn’t worked in Mammon’s torture room, or Asmo’ bedroom, so what was causing it?

“Beel?” MC questioned, looking up at him.

“Yeah?” He replied through his mouthful.

“Can you get that mirror down?”

Beel looked over at the mirror, confused, but shrugged and crossed the room to take it down, setting it on the floor. As he started to return to his seat, MC grabbed the pot of his food, and he snarled, shoving them backwards. They fell, and their back hit the glass. MC said a prayer of thanks as they sunk through.

BELPHEGOR:

Maybe it was the brothers. Maybe that was the trick? They had to be touching them for the mirror to work as a portal? No, no, that couldn’t be it. Asmo had been grinding on them with their face to the glass and they hadn’t gone through. Mammon wasn’t even nearby when they’d disappeared.

Fuck. So then what could it be? At least they had reached Belphie. This had to be the last of them, right? There were no secret brothers that no one had bothered to mention? The thought hurt, so MC pushed it aside. No. No. This had to be the last one. Another would kill me. The problem this time was obvious. They were in an open field, with no mirrors, and no Belphegor. The grass was long and dead as far as their eye could see, and there were no trees. Far away, they could see what looked like rain. Maybe that’s where they had come from, when they were with Lucifer? It had looked like it was going to rain then... But the rain, it was odd. Was that... Fire?

Another detail that wouldn’t help, would only haunt their nightmares. MC ignored it the best they could, and only hoped it wasn’t headed this way.

MC was not as perceptive as they believed, as was constantly proven, and it only took shape again as the long, waving puff of hair at the end of Belphie’s tail rose into the air, swaying in the cold breeze. They sighed, in both fear and relief. Whatever this final torture was, it was time to get it over with.

“Good morning,” the demon yawned, stretching and rolling in the grass. He laid on a small hoard of objects, likely brought to him by Beelzebub. Just little trinkets, things the other twin thought his brother would enjoy upon his awakening. MC saw figurines, small knives, jewelry. But no mirrors. Fear struck their heart.

“G-Good morning, Belphie.”

“How long was I asleep?” He bat a necklace away from his face with a lazy swish of his hand, and MC watched it skitter away into the grass.

“I’m not sure,” they replied honestly, sitting beside him. At this point, MC was resigned to whatever was about to happen. Their entire body already ached from healing over and over again.

“You’re still alive,” he rose to his haunches, revealing more of his trinkets, rubbing at his eyes. He seemed surprised by that revelation.

“Am I not supposed to be?” MC asked. 

“No,” Belphie answered, as he wrapped his body over theirs, drawing them into his nest of objects. MC thrashed and struggled as their air was cut off, fighting for breath, but the world began to darken at the edges.

Maybe this is it.

Their back hit a figurine with mirrored eyes that glowed in the reflection of the nearing rains of fire, and they tumbled.

DIAVOLO:

MC shuddered back to consciousness in a room that was soaked in blood, and they broke down, fists pounding the floor. “NO! NO NO NO! NO!” What was it now? What could it possibly be now? “I did it all! I went through all the brothers! What could FUCKING BE LEFT!” A drop of molten gold dripped from the ceiling, burning their skin, and they screamed at the top of their lungs in pain and frustration.

Diavolo laughed from the couch, his permanent grin still wide, simply watching the human lose their mind on the ground in front of him. MC looked up in shock at the sound, their watery red-rimmed eyes finally registering that they weren’t alone. “D-Diavolo?” They whispered, confused.

Horror burned hot through their veins at the thought that it might never be over. Who was next? Barbatos? The Demon King himself? Was this just an endless cycle through every demon in the Devildom?

They could feel their mind beginning to crack. Diavolo didn’t bother to lift a finger. The delicate creature was destroying themselves, no help required. He leaned back, as MC began ripping chunks of their hair out of their head, screaming at the top of their lungs.

“I think you’re ready now,” he stood, grabbing the gold leafed mirror, and lowered it over the curled up body of the human, until they had been completely swallowed, and the glass was flat against the floor.

ENDING:

MC was still screaming when they reappeared in the Devildom they knew and once loved, thrown across the dusty floor, coughing and sobbing. They flew to their feet, tearing out of the room and down the hall. They threw open every door until they finally found the exit, their sore legs carrying them all the way back to the House of Lamentation, where they ran up to their room, tossing their belongings haphazardly into a suitcase.

Lucifer was the first to get to the room, closely followed by the rest of the brothers. “MC?!” he questioned, concern lacing his voice. MC turned to the sound, all of the blood draining from their face as they looked at the brothers, their body convulsing in violent shakes as they saw all 7 brothers gathered at their door.

“Get away! Get away from me!” They shouted, hot tears flooding their face. “Don’t touch me!” But save for Levi and Beel respectfully hanging back, the other 5 only moved closer. “No!” MC could no longer hold on to their bag, dropping it on the floor, all of their clothes spilling out. They dropped to their knees, sobbing as they desperately tried to repack.

Now all of the boys were hesitating, unsure what to do. Satan knelt in front of them, still keeping his distance, his voice soft. “Hey, MC, are you okay? You know we’re here for you, right?”

“What the hell happened to ya?” Mammon piped in.

MC screamed, covering their ears. They could only remember the needle in their spine, growing weak in Satan’s arms, and being completely out of control of their own actions.

They shut the bag, steeling themselves as they shoved through the crowd of demons, all of them too afraid to try to stop MC’s flight. They sprinted down the stairs, disappearing out the door. They couldn’t stop running. Not now, not until their legs gave out. Maybe never again.

POST-SCRIPT:

If MC had bothered to ask Barbatos or Diavolo instead of snooping, they would have been able to inform MC exactly how the mirror worked. Or, alternatively, they could have simply checked the instructions engraved on the back. In curling script, it read: “To see an alternate life of your own, look into the mirror. To live your life in an alternate world, walk backwards into the mirror. You will be transported to the land of the people who viewed the mirror on the last day it was used. You will remain in each world until you go backwards through any available mirror, and will return to your original dimension upon completing the journey of the mirror’s day.

Example: Magdalene and John look into the mirror on Wednesday. On Friday, Hephaestus goes backwards into the mirror. He must visit both Magdelene’s and John’s worlds in order to return home.

Please use responsibly.”

[mysticmelove]

Hi! I've been reading ur fics, its great i like it ❤ And can i request Jumin who was having an illness since along time ago and Mc has just found it out? Thx :D

*I’m not quite sure if this was the type of illness you meant but I thought it’d be better to go with a disease rather than the flu. Jumin’s drinking habits alone are enough to say he almost most definitely doesn’t have diabetes but I guess we’ll go with it anyway.

His secret

(Jumin x MC)

.

It took some time for MC to adjust her life and her belongings into a new setting- the penthouse was much bigger than anything she’d been used to before. Of course, Jumin and the staff were extremely supportive in helping her settle in, but things moved at an undoubtedly fast pace from the second she laid eyes on Jumin in the flesh. Suddenly she was married and living in this home she could have never imagined being able to afford. This home which was comparable to a labyrinth and seeming to swallow all of her belongings.

She’d been there a few weeks and she could have sworn that she’d lose something on an almost daily basis. It wasn’t too strange though, things were bound to disappear within the move somehow. That’s not to say she appreciated the fact one of her eyeshadow palette had gone missing however. She’d been searching for the better part of an hour, eventually ending up on her hands and knees as she searched through the bathroom cabinets. It was highly unlikely it would have found its way down there but she was desperate at this point.

MC sighed, frustrated as she came to the last door. At this point she’d really just accepted that her makeup was gone or lost somewhere amongst everything else in the luxury of their house, yet she persisted. She opened it expecting empty space or more of Jumin’s hair or facial products, which appeared to be in a surprising abundance, but was greeted by neither. Instead, it was full of things she’d never seen; for starters there was a file filled with different sheets of paper work and titled in Jumin’s name, a box of syringes and needles, several prescriptions all in his name, the list went on. MC froze at the sight, taking a second to close her eyes and process what she’d seen. Tentatively, she explored the contents further, opening the cool box alongside the everything else to find more prescription. This time she read them carefully, they were full of vials of insulin. Her mouth was definitely agape now.

In her confusion, MC was quick to grab one of the free vials, holding it tight in her grasp as she took strides towards her husband’s office. Her voice echoed throughout the penthouse, completely ignorant of her tone, “Jumin, could you... Could you explain to me what this is?” She entered his office without a second thought that he might have been in a call. “I mean, I don’t want to pry but as my husband... I just... I’m slightly confused?”

Jumin’s eyes were drawn to her immediately, he said something briefly before he placed his phone down on the desk. He sighed with a smile: “I love the sound of your voice, MC, but–”

“Were you going to tell me about this?” MC questioned, placing the insulin down on his desk before folding her arms over her chest. Her eyebrows furrowed as she shook her head: “I think I figured it out but for the sake of clarity...” She felt awful for interrupting him but she was too far gone now.

“Ah...” he picked up the bottle, examining it quietly, “You appear to have stumbled upon my insulin, it’s really nothing for you to worry about.” He placed it back down, returning to his work as if nothing had happened.

MC’s eyes grew wide as she scoffed at his words: “Nothing to worry about? Jumin, I’m your wife now, it is very much something for me to worry about.”

Jumin lent back in his chair, folding his own arms in return, “And as my wife I don’t wish to worry you, my love.”

“It’s too late for that. I mean, what if something happened and you needed insulin and I didn’t know or if your sugar levels get too low or if–”

“MC, calm down,” Jumin interrupted her rambling, laughing ever so slightly, “Look, I’ve managed this for years and years on my own and I have a good nutritionist for a reason. I can assure you it’s all under control.”

His wife didn’t retaliate immediately, instead actually taking in his words for a moment to think. It made sense for Jumin to explain and react in that way; the fact he had probably had this all of his life, not to mention he was one to much rather prefer being to the point. Still, there were many things she did have questions about.

With a hum, MC made her way around his desk- Jumin was quick to roll his chair back and allow her space to sit on his lap. He sighed, placing his pen down as she fiddled with his tie mindlessly. She chewed at her bottom lip before she spoke: “...Surely you shouldn’t drink as much alcohol as you do...”

“I shouldn’t do that anyway,” he scoffed, “but who doesn’t appreciate a glass of red wine. As long as I balance it out with food and check my glucose levels it’s fine, honestly.”

MC nodded silently, her eyes being drawn to his before she had a sudden thought. “I’ve never seen you check your levels,” she blurted out, her mouth agape once more. “I’ve never seen you take insulin either.” She glared at him slightly with the realisation of just how much he’d kept from her in the time they’d been together.

Jumin’s hands fell to hold her waist, his doe eyes looking to her apologetically. “I didn’t think you’d want to see me sticking needles in myself, my love. I wasn’t hiding it from you...”

“You were sheltering me from it though, weren’t you?” She cocked her head to the side, her tone patronising yet loving in the same respect.

“Possibly.”

“And you didn’t think it would matter if I never found out?” Jumin fell painstakingly silent at her words, his eyes shifting discreetly away from her smug face. She laughed at his expression, cupping his cheeks gently between her palms, “I’ll forgive you. As long as I’m kept well informed, ok?”

He sighed in response, leaning into her touch, “Meaning?”

“Well...” she pondered innocently: “Say I was worried about you or I thought you were too stressed and not paying attention... Would you check your sugar levels if I asked?”

“MC, that’s–”

She didn’t let him get another word in before she continued, “No, I know that’s probably ridiculous but I just want to know you’re okay at all times. Despite the fact you say you’re fine, I can’t help but worry.”

“It’s fine,” Jumin assured her sweetly. “I wouldn’t mind if you were that concerned.” Her eyes lit up ever so slightly, overjoyed by the fact he’d let her be involved. Without a word, she scanned him up and down- a question on her mind- but Jumin was much quicker to answer. “I’ve checked it recently, my love. It was 6.3, perfectly normal, nothing for you to worry about.”

“Good,” she beamed, placing a tender kiss on his lips with a smile. “Just promise me you won’t keep any more secrets like this from me again.”

With care, he threaded a hand through her hair. “Of course, my love. Never again.”