#its the fact that one wrong move would ended up with him in either path...

[puppetgearing]

niko and his ever changing fate

[flatassthrowaway]

Passionately and Deeply

~Chapter Two~

New to the series? Read the prologue!

As always, let me know what you think! Enjoy!

“Well, perhaps if you’re Irish, you may enjoy the leprecorn,” he told me about his most vexing oddity that he discovered in his younger years as we strolled through the streets of downtown Gravity Falls.

“And it plays ‘Danny Boy’ through its horn? Come on Ford! You don’t like that song?” I asked.

“The song itself is fine. The way that leprecorn plays it is maddening,” he said, making me laugh.

We’ve been hanging out like this since that fateful night when his brother was mean to me. That was almost a month ago, and it’s the first day of spring.

Since then, I found that he lives at a tourist trap called the Mystery Shack with his twin brother. He also neglected to tell me he had a twin brother. Soos (who is the one who runs the show) aka Mr. Mystery, Melody, and Abuelita also live there, and his great-niblings also come to visit during the summer.

That shack looks so small from the outside, but… it must be one of those houses that’s actually a lot bigger on the inside.

I would know, because I actually spent quite a bit of time in that house. While Ford was working on his projects, I took the time to either complete my work alongside him or raid his bookshelf. When I raided his bookshelf, I found that he had the Lord of the Rings series. That series always interested me, but I never got a chance to read them.

Ford also introduced me to a game he adored called Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons. Thankfully, he guided me along the way, but it was confusing when first starting. I did enjoy FCLORPing, which seemed similar to this, so it ended up being fun for me too once I started to catch on, and I knew what the rules were.

I also hooked up an Apple TV to their own TV (which was surprisingly compatible with the newest technology, but I’m not going to question it), and we’ve been watching documentaries on Netflix. From Blackfish, to Mission Blue, it’s held our attention pretty well.

And it’s bonded us closer. Not only us, but Soos, Melody, and even Abuelita.

Speaking of Soos and Melody, she is about to give birth any day now. She is officially on bed rest, and Abuelita and Soos pamper her.

I hope I have that when I start having children. I’ve been longing for a strong, familial unit of my own for a while now.

The only one who still isn’t my biggest fan is Stan. I thought since I showed everyone who I was that he would start to ease up on his rough attitude towards me, but… no. He still doesn’t like the fact that I’m hanging around his brother.

It’s making me question if I’m doing something wrong. It’s a little too late to say that Ford and I should stop being friends, because we would both be hurt in the long run. We work really well together, and… honestly, I can’t picture not having him in my life anymore.

“Hey,” Ford said my name. “Are you up for a little trek? I want to show you something that I’ve only shown a select few.”

“Really? What is it?” I asked.

Ford smiled. “It’s something so rare, not even my brother has seen it. Only my closest friend and my great nephew have seen this.”

“C’mon, quit holding out on me, dude! You have to show me this thing!” I nudged his shoulder.

Ford put his hands up in defense, smiling jovially. “Alright, alright,” he said, as if he wasn’t the one who tried to get me all excited to see this object of his suggestion. “If you insist.”

I rolled my eyes playfully. “Shut up!”

“I never said anything, dear.”

We walked along a path into the forest, where I admired all of the wildlife along the way. Deer, squirrels… gnomes… minotaurs… handsome men…

Wait, what?!

I whipped my head around as we walked to look at a random blonde haired blue eyed man in designer clothing sniffing the ground as if he were a dog, and lifted his bottom in the air as he walked on all fours.

Ford had noticed I stopped, and grabbed my shoulders to keep me moving. “Come along, dear.”

I looked over my shoulder to keep staring at that man. That was a sight I never thought I’d see. It’s almost like that man was completely feral. I looked up at Ford, and he was completely unfazed.

Well, it’s Gravity Falls. If it’s not weird, that’s what’s unusual.

We arrived at a clearing that overlooked a strange shape in the cliff facing it. It was mostly what you’d expect a grassy clearing to look like, except there was a small hill in the middle of the clearing.

“Woah… what is this place?” I asked, in awe of its beauty.

“This is the Crash Site Omega or the CSO for short,” he told me. “It’s a place that… well… only the closest people to me have seen.”

“I can see why,” I told him, turning to see the town. “The view from here is amazing! You can almost see the whole town from here.”

He smiled. “Exactly,” he said. “And… there’s also another reason why I brought you here.”

I turned to him as he walked up to where I was standing. “Yeah? What’s that?” I asked.

“Later tonight, I was planning to stargaze here. Apparently, a meteor shower is supposed to take place at eight thirty,” he told me. “I checked the calculations myself, and for once, the news is correct. And… I would like it if you joined me.”

I nodded eagerly. “Definitely! This will be my first meteor shower!” I told him.

Ford smiled. “This will be the first meteor shower that I’ve seen in over thirty years,” he told me.

“Now we have to make it extra special!” I said, before my face dropped. “What does one bring to a meteor shower to make it special?”

He chuckled. “For starters, some may bring lawn chairs or blankets, but I settle for the latter,” Ford said. “They’re much comfier to sit upon.”

“Ah, that’s it!” I exclaimed. “I’ll provide the hot chocolate! We just… have to meet in town again. I don’t know how to get back here, even if I tried.”

Ford chuckled. “Not to worry, dear,” he told me. “You can meet me by that clock with the fist indent in the pole at 7:30.”

I smiled. “Great! It’s a date. See ya later, Ford!” I told him, going on my way back to town.

Before I could even make it a yard away, Ford called my name. “The way to town is that way,” he told me, pointing in the opposite direction to where I was going.

I felt my face get hot with embarrassment. “I knew that,” I told him. “I was just testing you to make sure you knew that, too.”

Ford laughed at my bullshit excuse. “Let’s get you to town safely,” he said as he began leading the way.

“My hero!” I cheered, running to catch up with him. He cracked a smile, and looked at the trees. His ears turned a little red… unless they were already red from before. I mean, it is the first day of spring, so it is still a little cool.

Ford led me back to town, and from there I bought a whole box of hot chocolate. I returned around 7:30 to the clock with the fist indented pole with my thermos and two mugs and waited for him to arrive. Thankfully, he didn’t keep me waiting long, and had the flannel blanket underneath his arm.

“Shall we get going, my dear?” he asked.

I nodded, smiling at him. “We shall.”

We both softly laughed as we made our way back to the Crash Site Omega, or the CSO to set up camp. Ford straightened out the blanket on the grass as I poured the hot chocolate in the mugs.

Once he was finished, we both sat on the blanket and placed our mugs together with a small clink. Afterwards, we watched over the night sky with no sound but the crickets playing their lovely melody for us.

After a while, the meteor shower started. Never did I see so many natural lights in the sky at once. It was breathtaking, how the meteors danced across the sky. I couldn’t take my eyes off of the display that nature had gifted us on this sunday night.

Good thing I’m off tomorrow.

The peak activity started to die down a few hours later, and Ford decided to break the comfortable silence between us by calling my name. I looked at him.

“You know, it’s rather rare for a meteor shower to be so visible at this time,” he said with a smile on his face. “They usually appear after midnight, and this is usually due to the fact that the Earth is facing forward in its orbit, which means more space debris may be encountered.”

“Woah… that’s so riveting,” I said, looking at the night sky again.

It started to hurt to crane my neck to look up at the night sky, so I laid down on the blanket. I think Ford had the same idea, as he laid down next to me.

“Ford.”

“Yes, dear?”

“What do you think happens when we die?” I asked.

“What an abrupt question…” he said.

“I don’t know why staring at this meteor shower triggered it, but… I was just curious what you thought.”

“Well…” he started. “I believe there is some sort of afterlife.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” he said. “To be honest… I believe that when we die, we gain all the knowledge we lacked in this life, as without our physical bodies holding us back… we can achieve so much more as spiritual beings.”

“Wow… Stanford, that’s really profound…”

“Isn’t it?” he said. “That, and we get to traverse the universe without harm. We are observers, but there is the rare chance that we can meddle in the physical world, just very subtly, though.”

I sighed with a smile. Being here, with him… it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside… almost as if the voice inside of me is telling me that I was supposed to be here, at this exact time, in this exact location, with this exact person, talking about… this.

This must be what it feels like to be at peace.

“What about you, dear? What do you believe?” he asked.

“I believe the same as you, believe it or not,” I told him. “I feel a strong lull from the universe, like I am exactly where I need to be at this moment.”

I’m being really vulnerable with him right now… maybe a little too vulnerable.

He must think I’m insane for saying something like that.

“It’s extraordinary that you said that,” he said my name, looking into my eyes. “Because I feel the same way. I was supposed to be here at this exact moment… with you.”

I smiled serenely, looking into his copper brown eyes. “So you feel the same way.”

Ford nodded, looking back at the night sky. “I… was honestly afraid of how quickly our relationship formed,” he admitted. “I thought I had been finally losing my mind… but I think I finally found someone with whom I can be my complete self.”

I felt my eyelids become heavier as I turned my gaze to the meteor shower, maintaining my smile. “I completely concur…” I said, my eyelids closing.

💚

A/N: I've been thinking about uploading on Saturdays instead of Fridays for this series, but it depends on how I feel. If you've read to this point, thanks for reading!

Next part is here! Click for childfree route!

Click for other route!

[midnight-in-town]

Hello. I love your blog very much, honestly, thank you for sharing your ideas, theories... My first language is not English, so excuse me if you don't understand everything I'm going to say. It's about Black Butler... I've been thinking and I would like to know what do you think, about the idea of the end of Kuroshitsuji where O!Ciel gives his soul to Sebastian, but his physical body becomes resurrected just like his twin brother? Do you see that idea possible? Do you think O!Ciel would learn how to live for himself and not for revenge??

Hey Anon ! Don't worry, my first language isn't English either and your English is very good ! :))

Thank you very much for reading and for the nice words (^3^) that question is very interesting.

First of all, I'd like to remind you that, for now, my favorite possible ending for Kuroshitsuji would be Seb not getting to eat our!Ciel's soul, whether our!Ciel survives or dies at the end.

Aside from that, I don't think our!Ciel's meant to become a bizarre doll, mostly because bizarre dolls are a plot point correlated with not mourning one's grief and being unable to move on.

Take UT who made it happen,

take Queen Victoria who's interested in it (for war and maybe to bring Albert back),

take any of the Parliamentarians who were afraid to die,

take even Bizarre Dolls themselves who are perfect if they have a lot of "yearning for the future"...

...and you have the main recipe for antagonists in Kuroshitsuji (UT perhaps being the sole exception since Yana said "he may not be exactly an antagonist").

Our!Ciel himself is a main character obsessed with living to get his revenge, with finding out what happened to his family 4 years ago, knowing very well that, through his contract with Seb, that means giving up voluntarily on his happiness and hope for his future.

For me, what makes Kuroshitsuji such a good story is that it establishes, despite having a demon eating souls as its main character, that getting obsessed about revenge is not a good thing, because ultimately one has to move on with their life.

Mourning is painful and takes time, but it's a process that is necessary if one intends to move on. The Bizarre Doll project in all its aspects is the antithesis of that and that's why I don't think our!Ciel, whom the story establishes is on the wrong path for being revenge-obsessed, is meant to become one.

In fact, it's because real!Ciel is a potential big bad antagonist (please read the RCMT recap post, in case you don't understand what I mean) that he's the one who became a Bizarre Doll. Just like Queen Victoria being in a contract with a demon and possibly the culprit behind Vincent's and Rachel's murders is paralleling our!Ciel wanting revenge through a contract with a demon like Seb.

It's all about parallels and about our!Ciel facing people who made the wrong choices before him, hence why 1) I'm hoping that Seb won't get to eat his soul, because 2) our!Ciel will finally admit that losing his soul to Seb is not what he wants, since only living for revenge is not exactly living in the first place [x][x] and breaking the cycle of revenge his family was caught into is perhaps his fate.

The way I see things, Yana hinting that UT may not exactly be a villain is because UT is the only character affiliated with the BD project who will maybe realize that, by not mourning dead Phantomhives, he'll lose the ones who are still alive (our!Ciel, Frances, Liz, Ed).

TL;DR for me the story calls for the failure and destruction of the BD project first and for our!Ciel to give up on the contract with Seb second, because moving on is ultimately what Kuroshitsuji is about (and don't even get me started on the fall of the Shinigami organization for the exact same reason).

So I don't know if our!Ciel will survive this story, but I certainly hope he won't become a BD, because thematically it makes no sense ! As always, I could be wrong though.

I hope I answered your questions ? Thank you again for reading and for the sweet words !! Have a good day. :))

[cherryys]

Hii, this is the anon ^^ thank you for answering!

Before saying anything I wanted to say that your reasons are pretty solid, and Yuuji's detention center death thing is one of the reasons that make my own waver a lot lol. I didn't even consider that Kenjaku's words could still apply despite them being technically separated (for now). And also that second-to-last paragraph made me tear up a little ngl.

Maybe my reasonings are tainted by me being an itafushi fan too lmao, but these are mainly the reasons that make me think they'll have the same fate:

Their cog mentality. Yuuji's is more prominent and repeated, but we see Megumi present it too in chapter 9 (a little fun fact is that Gege uses slightly different kanji for them, Megumi's 歯車 being more like a literal cog and Yuuji's 部品 more like "part/component"). Maybe this is more of a meta read from a reader's point of view, but imo having Gege give them such similar, low views of themselves and their roles in the story makes me believe they'll both end up looking in the same direction and come to the same conclusion (especially after that narration post-Choso's death and everything that's been building up for Megumi, with his own role and purpose being obliterated).

They're also taking each other's roles as the plot progresses. If Yuuji literally dooms himself for Megumi's sake (ch.1) and sacrifices himself for Megumi (ch.1/9), then it's Megumi's turn to put himself in danger for Yuuji's sake (ch.143-212). If Yuuji has to go through his own personal hell (Shibuya) by Sukuna's hands, then Megumi has to go through his own personal hell (Tsumiki) by Sukuna's hands. I also think it's important that it's been made a point to show this "whose turn it is to sacrifice himself to Sukuna" thing through the title of the chapters being the same in ch.9/212, when even Megumi himself had said in the detention center that "it seems our roles have been switched" (from who's going to die - Megumi thought it would be him this time).

Like, I don't really know how to express it better, but they've spent the entire story sacrificing themselves for the other, so I think the conclusion will be them putting an end to it by finding their own value through the other. There must be a reason Gege has been having them mirror each other's paths throughout the story. I just can't see one's conclusion without the other's, since this story started with them both. I don't see Wasuke's "curse" as the ending but more chapter 1 as a whole, which is about Megumi and Yuuji making sacrifices for the other until both of them have to bear the burden that is Sukuna.

Maybe "taking the burden together" means they'll both die with the King of Curses but the cycle will just repeat again years later as is humanity's nature, maybe it means they both will have to find a way to live after all this devastation in their lives, despite it all. And yes Yuuji is the MC so his own, personal curse from the start of the manga should take priority, but Megumi (and Sukuna) is so tied to him that I think they will have to either die or live together. What would it mean to Megumi if the one person he has decided to save dies for his sake? Or what would it mean for Yuuji that he has to follow the cruel fate he's decided/been given instead of managing to pull through and finding a reason to want to stay alive, selfishly (since saving Megumi is definitely not the sanest choice here)?

I yapped a lot sorry if this doesn't make much sense, but overall I think I just have a more optimistic(?) point of view, and of course I could just be very wrong. After all, jjk has tragedy in every of its corners and who better than the protagonist to put a nice, final bow to it lol. But tragedy can take many forms so I guess I just want to believe that jjk also wants to say that unwavering love/humanity CAN break even the biggest of curses and to keep on moving forward no matter how bleak everything is, and there's no one better to do that than the two guys who have been pulling through for each other from the very start (Megumi finding a reason to get stronger in Yuuji, Yuuji finding a reason to live in Megumi during the CG, etc).

(p.s.: here's my translation of Wasuke's last words from the og jp text, but i'm leaving the jp too in case you want to translate yourself ^^:

オマエは強いから - you're strong, so

人を助けろ - save people

手の届く範囲でいい - it's fine if it's those within your hand's reach

救える奴は救っとけ - save those who can be saved

迷っても感謝されなくても - even if you waver, even if you aren't thanked

とにかく助けてやれ - even then, save (people)

オマエは大勢に囲まれて死ね - die surrounded by many people

俺みたいにはなるなよ - don't end up like me)

You bring up very valid points! Yuuji and Megumi's fates are very intertwined so it's hard to see any conclusion of either character without the other intrinsically embedded in it.

An ending where they both die, effectively ridding the world of the King Of Curses since it's a burden they both shared would be pretty tragic in its own right imo but them both surviving and helping each other heal while trying to fix their mistakes would be a much more hopeful ending and would especially work with the theme of the younger generation breaking the cycle of the older generation, where Gojo & Geto made disasterous decisions and died before they could truly bear the consequences of it (Shibuya and Culling Games), Yuuji and Megumi will live on to bear the consequences, but this time together, where the burden will be much more easier on their shoulders.

Yes JJK is a tragedy, but it shouldn't be a depressing one all the way through. We see scenes of hope that things would turn out better this time (Megumi telling Yuuji to share the burden after Shibuya, unlike Gojo who told Geto that he alone should bear the burden of failing to protect Riko, thus driving them away from each other) (Jujutsu Sorcerers fighting together to stop Sukuna instead of the classic mentality of "Jujutsu Sorcerers die alone so they should fight alone) stuff like that.

I do think it would also be unnecessarily cruel if Yuuji were to die right after Megumi (assuming he gets up because of Yuuji eventually) starts believing in a person again right after he drowned in despair because he lost all the people he believed in lol but Gege is known for just putting Megumi through the wringer so it would unfortunately fall in line with what he's doing. Like that guy can never catch a break, holy shit. (People kept saying he hates Gojo, but look at what he's doing to Megumi 😭)

i'm not too hopeful that one won't bite the curb prematurely, but i would like it if they do live on

(Also thank you so much for the translation!!! Official translations can be so wacky and the original meaning always gets lost in translation(

[team-sanvich2]

Next is Blu Team's Spy, Gérard.

Today's post might be lacking in details, and like the Medic Post, things might not 100% align with the information presented in the picture above, as these are being made with a gap between them.

The Story is under Read more

Gérard was born in France but immigrated to the States with his mother while he was still a kid. The two ended up in a rather shady part of New York, doing anything that was possible for survival, his mother had become a lady of the night, who would offer services to men who would be found dead by the next day, and the mistress would be seen with her son in some rather expensive clothing, bring him to a nice school and by the end of the year, they managed to move into a nicer apartment, far away from where they were, but Thorned Rose, as she used to be called, refused to stop her business, getting in contact with more rich clients, some took their time to wind up dead, probably trying to get close to her, but she would silence them whenever her little Gérardito would wind up hurt.

The attitude of his mother would sometimes make him question right from wrong, what he was being taught in school was far different from his life at home, where no matter how bad you acted, like when his mother killed her "lovers" and got away with it, as long as it was for good cause, all was well. This would later be applied in his school life, running a small contraband ring inside the building, selling various products to the older students, but also managing to do much more.

The School was a prestigious one, however, with all of its dirt being covered up over a mask of "99% of students managing to go to Havard" when in fact, they were getting bribed by the various rich parents, said students being some of his clients, this went in collision with another issue, students with a less fortunate upbringing were being denied opportunities, and teachers would play favorites with the kids who's parents would be personally add thousands of dollars if their children were to pass their classes.

Gérard gathered and copied what he could find and brought it to an authority figure, his mother, who decimated each one of the parents with evidence but hid the fact that Gérard did most of the digging, and she was very proud of her little "spy".

This cleverness led him through a path of deception, trickery, and lies, but that would build him up to become a detective, one who would not hesitate to gather every information he could about his colleagues, but Gérard had started to work with someone, a fellow French man that had a similar upbringing to his, born in France, had a hard-working mother and was a respected figure in the Station

The two were a wonder duo of sorts, the hardest cases were often entrusted to the two of them, and most would either end in a successful arrest or a shoot-out where the two would walk out of it tired and injured. It was thought that nothing could break the two but, things took a turn once the BLU man met who he thought was the love of his life.

The two met when the woman was working at a diner to help raise her 3 boys, Gérard would often tip the lady before leaving given that she was in a position similar to his mother, who was back in France and would often write to her boy, especially after he said that he and Melinda Delilah started dating and were living together in Boston.

Once there, a wedding ceremony was held and a year later, they had 2 boys together, but things were about to take a turn, Gérard had received a call that he was going to be promoted into a special position in a Secret Services Facility, but it was going to be in Alaska, a desolated place that had become rampant with crime and shady activity, not to mention incredibly dangerous, but now having 5 kids, he took the opportunity and the family moved.

His wife would voice her worries about Gérard being out in the cold often, but he would assure her that everything was okay, and things were going well, the place they were living was nice, and their relationship as a family was going well, but...As a couple? it was a different story.

Perhaps it was due to both being each other's first loves, maybe it was the drastic change in environment, or the jobs Spy was taking for BLU Corp and refused to tell Mell to keep her safe so RED would not target her or their kids, where now 6 at this point with Little Bidwell, but the love between them was deteriorating, in nowadays the man recognizes that perhaps marriage wasn't something neither were seeking or that maybe she wanted something else, and she found it.

Gérard had received an odd visit from his old Detective friend, Gérard was happy to see him and decided to invite him to stay over as no hotel in town was vacant, but it turned out to be a mistake, as Gérard would find his wife absent from their bed, and in his ex-partner's bed.

Matters escalated when Melinda found out she was pregnant, before the men would break out in a fight, the couple simply decided to divorce and go their separate ways. A year after, Gérard caught a strange hooded figure in the front of his house leaving a weird basket, and once he checked inside, there he was, Antonie, a boy who according to a letter inside the basket was his son, Melinda had included in the letter that she sent him there cause she felt horrible, she could not look at the baby without thinking of the man that was her husband through most of her life, but also because he resembled too much the 'other man". Despite her words, Gérard only saw Antonie as his boy, his "faon mignon" (cute fawn from google translate), and his pride and joy.

Unkowst to him, and the RED Spy, Antonie is one of a pair of twins, Jeremy, however, bores more resemblance to Gérard, which causes quite a lot of confusion but, the BLU Father and Son don't care that much, at least...They don't show it a lot.

As for how he meets Yana, this occurs in the events of "Mann VS Machine" in this AU, where RED Heavy's family comes to live with Misha to keep them safe and while the two teams deal with Gray's robots, and Gérard was head over hills for her after she saved him from a nasty fall, and unlike how Jeremy asked Spy for romantic advice, Gérard went to his son who he KNOWS IS DATING and thus asks him for advice.

[martianbugsbunny]

We Are Mandalorians: Our Love Must Be Forged (An AxePaz Fic)—Chapter 8

Guuuuuuys I’m in Ohio this week so once again this is scheduled post. One of these days I’ll actually be around on a Friday to post the next chapter myself, but that day is not today. Still, this is a fun little chapter (although it’s the one after this that’s my favorite in the while fic) and we get some more feelings being shared!! YAY!!...but also more mortal peril because I need something for these guys to overcome before the happy ending. Read on and enjoy!

Paz pulled him to his feet before he was even fully awake. Axe stumbled for a few steps, Paz supporting his weight. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“More Imperials.”

That woke him up. His veins hurt, he was becoming sure of it—it was unhealthy to have so much adrenaline running through him for so long. And yet a new infusion of it brought his senses into sharper focus, and he shifted himself away from Paz.

He wanted to cry, though. To just fall on his knees and sob, to hell with the fact that he being hunted. No, because of the fact that he was being hunted....And because his leg ached and his spine was sore from tension and he hadn’t breathed properly in ages.

Paz took his hand again, this time lacing their fingers together. “I know,” he said quietly, barely louder than a breath. “We will survive this, just don’t give up.”

“That was supposed to be my promise,” Axe said, almost laughing with bitterness. He squeezed Paz’s hand to signal that his touch was welcome.

“We’ve shared battle and insults and…this,” Paz replied, holding up their clasped hands. “And we can share the promise of surviving this nightmare, as well.”

Axe felt that urge to weep again, but suddenly for different reasons. In the middle of horrifying darkness, of being tracked down like terrified, helpless animals in the face of something enormous and evil, there was a small light: a small light in the shape of a large Mandalorian man in beautiful blue armor.

More hours passed, and they managed to give these new Imperials the slip. The footsteps following them were gone. Axe almost relaxed a bit, his shoulders slumping.

Then a rockfall from the ceiling diverted their attention; they both aimed their weapons towards it. It turned out to be nothing—but it distracted them both for long enough that they fell headlong into a deep pit in their path.

Paz laid at the floor of the pit for a long moment, not moving, but groaning. Axe, too, was stunned, and it took him a minute to realize what had happened. There was no chance of lifting each other out; the pit was deeper than six or seven Mandalorians stacked one on top of the other, and its walls had no helpful vines to use as ropes.

Axe tried to climb up the wall itself, but it was smooth and his leg was hurting so badly that he couldn’t put his weight on it. He collapsed next to Paz.

“I can’t get out,” Paz said, finally sitting up with his back to the sleek wall of the pit. “My shoulders are in agony, Axe. I couldn’t climb if there were hand- or foot-holds.”

“Well, I can’t either,” Axe admitted. “My leg won’t permit me to get up. I’m not sure I’ll stand again.” In this life was the unspoken end to the sentence.

There was no way out, and the Imperials would probably catch up to them again. Axe hoped it was before they starved to death; blaster fire would be quicker and more merciful.

Then he heard the sound of footsteps not too far away, somewhere above them, and he wasn’t sure he had hoped to die that much more quickly.

[bitchfitch]

The cup of tea was warm in his hands. The few leaves that had escaped the strainer floating placidly on the surface. Esti focussed on their gentle paths, swirling the cup occasionally to keep them moving as for every second he was focused on them he could avoid looking at his mother across the table from him.

Corvus was the image of matronly patience as she waited for him to break the silence. Her own cup on the table in front of her, neatly sat on its little plate like it was to be the third participant in what Esti was predicting to be an absolutely miserable conversation.

"I love him," Esti started. It was a fact. It deserved to go first. He only said it because he knew it would be the absolute last thing she would want to hear.

"I'm aware."

Her plan wasn't difficult to parse out. She needed him on his back foot and knew nothing was harder for him than having to ask for what he wanted. Especially when it went so far against the will of who he was asking for it from. She would deny him either way, but making him ask meant he wouldn't ask so him failing this negotiation would be wholly his fault instead of her refusing to just let them be happy-

"I'll allow you to marry him so long as you give me a way to keep you safe."

"What?" Esti couldn't believe what his brain was telling him he'd heard her say.

"Did you already change your mind?" The teasing smile on her voice was full of the summer night warmth he'd almost forgotten she was capable of.

"No! No- Of course not. But, really? I- Thank you," he bumbled through a few words as every question and expression of gratitude tied themselves in knots in their race to his tongue.

"Yes, Esti. Pavo is... not my first choice for you, but he argued his case and made a few promises that, should he keep his end of the deal, were too good for our people for me to refuse," she sighed and rested her hands palm up on the table between them, a silent invitation that Esti gladly accepted. He set his cup aside and placed his in hers. His deep grey skin looking so much lighter than it was against the true light eating darkness of hers. "I hope he is good to you. I hope and wish and pray to every deity that might listen to my words as though they are coming just from a mother instead of one who is a demon as well, that he proves me wrong in every way," she squeezes his hands, "I worry I am sacrificing you to a monster for the sake of those who pretend you aren't my eldest son. I want to be wrong, but I still worry."

"You are, I- I promise it Mother. He's kind to me. He's never once been a monster to me and he never will be. I swear it."

"Do you think the brides slaughtered by their beloveds thought they were beasts before they sent them weeping to their graves? You can not know he will remain kind... That's why my approval of your marriage to him is conditional."

He felt a twinge of something curl in the back of his gut. Suspicion or anxiety or some worry he may not be able to give her what he needs to to have the groom he desires more than a bat with shredded wings desired the open air of the night sky.

"All I ask is that you give me a way to bring you home should he prove unworthy of your love. Tell me how to see through the wards that keep his village hiddencfrom demon-kind so that I can come save my son should he ever need me to."

Esti swallowed hard, trying to drown out they growing growling feeling with the hope and joy earning her permission will bring him. If sharing one secret was all it took to have Pavo's hand he couldn't possibly deny her it right? It was just one secret.

"In the clearing before the gate, face away from it and walk forwards while making yourself believe that you will pass through it. When you should be stood below the archway make the sigil of his house in the air before you. You will be within the village when you take your next step," his dread built with every word.

She let go of his hands. Her next action was nearly lost to the thick shadows that clung to her fingers, but still, he saw her remove the wedding band his father had proposed to her with.

"Thank you, I know what sorts of suspicions he has probably filled you with, so I hope this will be a strong enough gesture to convince you I do truly intend to only use that information if he goes back on his promises of your safety in his care," she sets the ring on the table before him. "I would like it if you proposed to him here in your maiden home so that we may celebrate the engagement as a family. As you do not just have my permission, but my blessing as well."

The ring didn't feel real when he picked it up. It was heavy in his hand, and warm from her skin. The metal hard and smooth and the gems glittered in their settings, but it still didn't feel real.

He had spent weeks pacing and trying to think up back up plans for his back up plans. Never, in any of his anxious strategizing had he thought she would say yes without an argument about avoiding war and breaking his heart. Even then, her blessing was something he had written off completely. A quick disowning was what he presumed would be the best result not... this.

She came around the table and wrapped him in a hug as she shushed him. He hadn't even realized he had begun to cry.

"Thank you. Thank you. I- I I have nothing else, just thank you," he leaned against her, wiping at his eyes and trying valiantly to stop his tears. The relief and elation drowned out his worry. Of course he was just being paranoid. Of course she wanted nothing but what was best for their family. He tried to apologize for doubting her, but his blubbering mangled the words beyond what was recognizable.

Corvus chuckled and rubbed his shoulder when she let go. "Go now. Your groom is probably planning something stupid. Give him the news before he has time to act on those plans."

Esti nodded, and was on his feet in a stumbling trot to the door before he could think himself into a new anxiety spiral.

Beyond the door, Pavo leaned against the wall, his agrivated grimace turning to an expression of worry as he saw the tears. Esti was in his arms and burrying his face against Pavo's chest before he had time to demand to know what had happened.

Any thought of grand romantic gestures Esti might have had were eaten by his eagerness as he grabbed for Pavo's hand the instant he could bare to back away enough to do so. Wordlessly he put the ring on Pavo's little finger, the band being sized for someone with much finer hands barely fit but the implications of the action still rung loud and clear.

Pavo looked between the ring and Esti and Corvus. His worry turning to surprise then to the same elation Esti clearly felt as he wrapped him in his arms again. Heftig him up and spinning him with giddy love sick glee. Cackling his acceptance of the proposal and looking more like a person than Corvus had ever seen him as before.

Pavo barely set Esti back down on his feet, still not letting him go, before he was addressing her, "Thank you. You won't regret this. I swear it on my life that I will keep him safer and happier than anyone else could, and if I fail that it will be my own blade I fall too."

[smallbeefwrites]

misinterpreted

Wild cant understand anyone and therefore thinks everyone hates him. a continuation of Stranger.

whumptober 2023 - day 2 "they don't care about you."

fandoms - legend of zelda, linked universe.

Link - or was it Wild now? - had been with this group for a week. And he hated it. The whole group seemed to default to Hylian in conversation, and it made him feel excluded.

None of them seemed to have picked up on the fact that he couldn’t understand enough of the language to join in with the conversations meaningfully, either. They probably just assumed that he didn’t like conversation, and were giving him space. The only one that was trying to communicate with him was Scarf guy, who he now knew was named Warriors. But that was only to give him a run down of the situation. Afterwards, the older man had been dragged off by the small blue child, wind, who was chattering excitedly in such rapid fire hylian that, even if the kid had said some words that Wild knew, he couldn’t tell. And after that, the most anyone said to him was to catch his attention when he lagged too far behind the group.

Nobody had made any effort to communicate with him, and that just encouraged the spiralling thoughts in Wild’s head. He needed to talk to someone, to prove his brain wrong, to get his thought to shut up as they screamed “They don’t care about you” on repeat every time he let his mind wonder.

But making that first move himself, reaching out to join in, that was terrifying.

* * *

Warriors was worried about Wild. When they had first come through the portals into the clearing, Wild was unconscious. The kid had stayed unconscious for a good few hours whilst the rest of the group got over their panic and introduced themselves. And by the time he was starting to gain consciousness, the rest of the group had already shared a meal and become acquainted with each other.

And then it turned out the kid probably didn’t even know Hylian, the only language the rest of the group had in common. It also didn’t help that the kid seemed overwhelmed by the size of the group. So Wars had opted to gove the kid some space to let him get used to the noise, hoping that he would reach back out when he was ready. But it had already been a week, and Wild just seemed even more stressed out than before. The kid hadnt even shared any of their meals with them. Which, fair, none of them could cook for shit, but the kid hadnt even sat with them whilst he nibbled on his own travel rations.

So he made up his mind. If wild hadnt approached someone by the end of the day, he was approaching wild.

* * *

It was getting too much. Warriors was watching him, and it was too much. He was being judged. This was worse than not being cared about. The group actively did not want him here.

Wild looked back across the group, and noticed the man watching him again. His breath caught in his throat as he waited for the scarf wearer to look away from him.

This was getting too much, his brain was screaming at him, he wasn’t wanted, he couldn’t stay.

Without another moments hesitation, he bolted into the trees.

* * *

There was a sudden movement at the back of the group, so warriors turned back to see what was up, only to glimpse the end of Wild’s cloak disappearing into the woods on either side of the path.

That was not good. He quickly alerted the rest of the chain before taking off after the boy. Very shortly after, he saw a wolf streak past him, the beast looking so much like Midna’s shadow construct that he was surprised to not see the imp riding on its back. He just hoped that the wolf was friendly, not being able to do much whilst on the trail of a frightened teenager.

It took about 10 minutes of dashing through the trees to find a sign of the kid - a scrap of dark fabric, embroidered pattern matching Wild’s cloak, snagged on a bush just outside a hollow in the roots of a tree. Taking a moment to calm his breathing and compose himself, Wars crawled into the tangle of roots, stopping when he found a slightly bigger space. He looked up, only to see Wild curled up around the Wolf from before, eyes rimmed rid from where he had obviously been crying. And the kid was glaring at him, warily.

It took a second for him to remember the correct word order, Sheikah was not his first language. “Hey, im not going to hurt you” he said slowly, gently. The kid just glared at him suspiciously.

“Why not? You hate me.” Wild accused, voice raw and hoarse. Where did he get that idea? Wars couldn’t think of anything he’d done to make the kid think that.

He thought over the words he was going to use carefully, he didn’t want to upset the kid too much. And this would be hard enough if the kid could understand Hylian. Wars just hoped he had enough practice in sheikah to do this right. He smiled gently at the kid, keeping his body language as open as possible in the tight space. “No i don’t. Why do you think i do?”

“You didn’t talk to me. You kept glaring at me. You didn’t invite me to eat with you.”

Now the captain was no stranger to actions and words being misinterpreted in the worst way possible, but it was still a blow to the gut whenever he found that it had happened. How was he going to explain this to the kid? Who was now hiccuping back sobs. This just kept getting worse.

He slowly reached his hand forwards. “Is it OK if i touch you?”

The kid shrank back against the wall, burning himself deeper into the wolf’s fur. That was a no then. He drew his hand back.

“Thats alright. I wont touch you if you don’t want me to.”

Not sure what to do next, they sat in silence in the hollow, the only noise being Warrior’s and the wolf’s breathing and wild’s attempt to not cry in front of someone he thought hated him. Wars isn’t sure how long they sat like this until wild finally spoke again.

“You hate me. So why did you come after me?”

“I promise you, i don’t hate you. I was waiting for you to come to me when you were ready, i didn’t want to stress you out. I promise ill talk to you more if thats what you want”

Wild looked at him, a small glimmer of hope in his eyes. “You mean it?” and damn, did his voice sound so small. It made the teenager sound more like a child. And really, wasn’t that a punch to the gut, that he’d made a child think that.

“Yes, i promise. And you can eat with us too. You didn’t need an invite for that.” he held his hand out towards the kid, and this time, Wild grabbed it, pulling himself over the wolf and into Warrior’s lap, crying. They stayed like that for a while, letting wild calm himself down. Once the kid was breathing steadily, Wars tapped his back to get his attention.

“Now do you want to come back to the group with me, im sure they’re all warried about you.”

He felt Wild nod against his chest, the movement accompanied by the slight rattle of the chainmail underneath his tunic. “Wolfie comes too,” the kid mumbled. So the wolf had a name. He wasn’t allowed to refuse that request now.

[shinahbee]

BL Semes Tier list

Okay this is inspired by my last post on un popular opinions on BL characters and some one decided to make a tier list for ranking the “Semes/ Tops” lol. I decided to rank mine with only ones that I have read, there are ones that I know the character through osmosis but I haven’t read it at all so I won’t be including those.

there is also a Uke tier list so I might rank those too!

again if you are offended by people talking crap about your favorite character maybe not read any of my posts cause that can’t be avoided here.

but let’s be real for a sec...the actual challenge is me remembering all these people’s names LMAO.

so how I ranked my list was red flag to green....lol not really but it turned out that way. the highest tier is the spicy-nice tier and if you have followed me for a long time I have named my favorites “ spicy- nice “ because they are neither bad boys or good boys entirely and they have that extra something that makes you go...huh? 

Spicy-nice tier:

dooshik -Pearl boy

hyunwook- Secondo piatto

taekyeom- Omega complex

wolfgang- kings maker

Giovanni - Hold me tight

hyorung- don’t get me wrong boss

yoonseul - the third ending

Like I said they all have that extra something that separates them from the next ranking of just being the “nice guy” they have parts of them that are imperfect but does not let that affect the relationship with their partners.

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

Good personality but need more development:

woowon- the pizza delivery man and the gold palace

sunyul - Love tractor

jinseng - path to you

seheon- No moral

woon - between the stars

yohan - liveta

jekwon- butler

sunghyun- the origin of species

Dahyeok- killer crush

Hoin- Lucky paradise

Taejun- Unintentional love story

inhyun - insatiable man

reok- willow love story

seowoo- seeing double

holy crap I forgot some of these characters names and even the title, lol its been so long since then. but hopefully these are all right. But these character are great in personality but I feel as though they don’t have a lot of character development yet or was not expanded, which is what disconnects me from them and if that is explored later on they might moved up in rank since I would know them a lot better.

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

Don’t feel one way or another:

Howon - runway hit

byeol’s brother...lol. I dont know his name I think its hesung..- Between the stars

Jaeyoung - semantic error

jiwoon - my suha

seongho- painter of the night

Jaeshin- the ghosts nocturne

tsukiyama... lol. I’m kidding but I forgot his name for real - Dine with a vampire 

cain- your to claim

taekung..I think lol- Love or hate

Jaewoo -seeing double

so as you can see I don’t feel one way or another, this is due to the fact that I either prefer one character over the other in the same series or in most cases I dropped the entire series and I don’t care about any of the characters. If I don’t know thier names I usually give them nicknames lol. 

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

looks better than their personality:

wooyeon - Love history of willful negligence

Ilay - passion

Nakwon - beware of the full moon in march

Jaehyuk - limited run

sehan- shadow realm

ajusshi - dangerous convenient store

like I said 10/10 for looks 4/10 for personality. some of these protags are really shitty and I’ll talk about some of them in my monthly favorites but they just have that personality that I hate (ajusshi is an exception, I just don’t prefer his personality, he isn’t bad ) even though they are good looking fellas.

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

NOPE:

juwon- Love or hate

yoojin - Turn off the camera

Yawhi- Yours to claim

sungyeon - even if I don’t love you...forgot the title

Jaekyung- jinx

ilmo - blind play

jiwon- BJ alex

seoreok - Chess piece ( not that he is bad, I just don’t find him attractive lol)

I don’t think I need to explain really but no means no and sometimes these characters would not take no for an answer and sometimes do despicable things, physical and mentally assault either their partner or people in general...yeah not the most ideal type, but some people love them like their lives depend on it and I worry for them.lol.

the thing that separates the not so good personalities from the nope tier is that there is something about those characters that motivate them to do the things they do..even if it makes them despicable eg. wooyeon is a good example of a sociopath that does not understand peoples actions and feelings towards him which makes him able to get away with punching someone in the face with a smile on and just walking away like nothing just happened. some of the people they do that to are worse than scum...so who is bad person here? 

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

anyways, that was fun, I need to do an updated BL tier list soon cause I have read more since that time and let me tell you...rankings have changed.

hope you enjoyed and if you feel the same let me know. 

[hayffiebird]

Taste of Strawberries, chap. 33

Hayffie Post-mockingjay Multi-chapter, Rated M SUMMARY: Four years have passed since the end of the war when Effie returns in to Haymitch’s life once again. An old friendship is renewed. Will it lead to something more? Meanwhile Panem has entered a new era. The rebellion’s over, the borders are open but in the shadows, anger and mistrust are smoldering. Something that will affect Haymitch and Effie’s life in a way they never saw coming. Chapter 33 Clouds on the horizon Mrs. Pluckrose had a silver door knocker shaped like a wolf’s head. It shone with moist after the latest rain. Empty eyes stared into Effie’s when she lifted the heavy ring between its jaws and knocked three times. The November wind whispered in the apple tree and she wrapped her cardigan, Haymitch’s cardigan that was, tighter around herself as she waited. Almost a full minute passed and right when she thought they would simply ignore her, the door swung open. Mrs. Pluckrose’s ten year old looked back at her, startled and big-eyed, standing there in his stocking feet and red knitted sweater with blue dots on it. Then his face closed shut and he stared her down, defiantly and suspicious. “Hello, Timothy. Is your mother home?” But she needn’t ask for now Mrs. Pluckrose herself appeared in the doorway, next to her son. “Something I can help you with, Ms. Trinket?” Effie’s gaze flitted to Timothy who remained behind his mother’s skirts. “Do you want to tell her, Timothy or shall I?”

When there was no response her attention returned to Mrs. Pluckrose. “Your son has been harassing my children. Calling them names.” “I didn’t! I just…” “Today wasn’t the first time either and I will not stand for it.” Mrs. Pluckrose turned to her son. “Have you said anything inappropriate, Timmy?” Timothy worried his bottom lip. Looked surly from Effie to his mother. “No. I only said what you…” “In!” Mrs Pluckrose snapped, pointing. “Go to your room!” The boy shot one last glance at Effie and walked off. With him gone Mrs. Pluckrose turned to her neighbor again, smiling a smile sweet as a lemon. “I’m sure this is nothing but a big misunderstanding. You probably just heard him wrong, that’s all. I know how tiresome the baby years can be.” “I heard him perfectly clear, Mrs. Pluckrose.” “Our Timmy is a good boy. And this is a good neighborhood. Nothing like what you said has ever happened before. Not until you moved here.” “Oh, my dear Mrs. Pluckrose,” said Effie and shook her head. “If you are bent on playing this obtuse, then can I at least talk to Timothy?” The neighbor flashed another sweet-sour smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “That is never going to happen, Ms. Trinket. Pardon me for being so frank but if you feel like the Capitol isn’t agreeing with you then there’s always the option of moving. Why don’t you just heed my advice and take your family back to District 12. You’ll be happier for it.” xXx “I should’ve gone.” More rain tapped against the glass ceiling of the roof terrace while Effie poured coffee for them both. “Goodness no.” She checked on Amy sleeping in her baby bouncer before settling into the sofa with her cup, her feet tucked underneath her. “I’m way too exhausted to wipe that woman’s blood off the walls.” Ian moved sleepily against his father’s chest but with the rocking of the old hammock he didn’t wake up. Haymitch rubbed his free hand against his aching eyes. Felt like someone had poured sand into them. Effie was probably right. A few weeks ago she wanted fresh tulips to celebrate the fact that the house was now hers. Later, when they pushed the stroller out of the flower shop they crossed paths with an elderly couple. 80 years old or more. Him leaning heavily against a cane and dressed in a pearl gray suit and matching hat. Her, petite and viciously laced up with a dead Eastern bluebird on top of her elegant hairdo. “Oh, don’t mind about them, dear,” the old lady said and patted her husband’s arm. But the man had halted to a stop and when Effie met his frosty stare with her head high he spat on the ground. “Filthy half-breeds!” “Hey, pal!” Haymitch shouted after them. “If you don’t want me to knock those false teeth out you’ll keep your opinions to yourself!” So yeah. Haymitch had always fancied himself a level-headed man. Someone who could keep his cool under pressure. Even be diplomatic when the situation called for it. But with Amy and Ian… If something threatened them, he saw red every time. “Do you want me to take him?” Effie asked when Ian let out a long whine and bumped his mouth into Haymitch’s shoulder. “No, it’s alright.” He kissed the top of his son’s head. “Boy’s just determined to have his father jump off the fire escape. Aren’t you, sweetheart?” In response, Ian hiccupped and the next moment something warm ran down Haymitch’s shoulder. Effie burst out laughing and covered her mouth with her hand. Haymitch shot her a look. “You gonna do that every time they spit up on me?” Effie cleared her throat to try and contain herself but her eyes glittered with mirth as she helped him with the paper towels. “At least you have a burp cloth,” she said. “If you could just remember wearing it. That’s more than I had when you puked on me during the Games.” Down bellow, the door bell suddenly rang in a fury, followed by a thunder of feet and distant laughter. Haymitch sighed. In the weeks and months that followed their first visit, they’d spent a lot of time in the Fountains of Youth. Other places too. The river Theseus, Cupid’s Garden. Always in the morning when the least people were up and about, giving them a hard time. But it was only kids who advanced like this. Who dared more than looks and whispers. And Timothy Pluckrose wasn’t the only one. Far from it. It got so bad that Haymitch and Effie would probably have kept to the roof terrace with its bullet proof glass as much as possible, if it was all up to them. It wasn’t a bad place for someone who needed a break from the world. If not a safe haven, then at least a quiet, peaceful hideout, overflowing with potted plants. A comfy couch, armchairs. Soft carpets. A small book case stood in the corner filled with children’s books and glossy magazines and a family of Effie’s origami frogs. In here they fed and changed and cuddled the twins. Read them bedtime stories and played records for them on their grandfather’s old gramophone. Even enjoyed a good lunch or a catnap, when given the chance. It was a good house. No matter what his feelings were toward the rest of the Capitol, he had to accept that it really was. The rooms, the roof terrace, the little garden with the tree and the wishing pond. A good place for children. And with each memory built that included them, the more it became their house. Amy and Ian’s. And that made it the one place in the Capitol he could actually stand. But Amy and Ian loved being outdoors. They loved riding in the stroller. Especially through the Fountains of Youth. Haymitch didn’t know if it was the sound of water or the wind chimes or simply the soft bumps and bounces of the stroller itself but it was the single best way to make them fall asleep and sleep hard. Overall, their sleep cycle was out of whack, despite Effie’s careful planning. When she was still pregnant, it had seemed like a non-issue – staying up with a newborn at three in the morning – since he’d be awake anyway. But what he didn’t take into account was the fact that Amy and Ian needed him just as much during the day. Every day. 24 hours a day. No wonder sleep deprivation was used as a torture method. He’d confess anything at this point. The crying was another matter. Effie said it was all normal but he’d be damned if her genes hadn’t given them a head-start in the voice department. Because how else could someone so small be so fucking loud? He’d be deaf in one ear before their first birthday. His entire existence had narrowed down to just recognizing what the twins needed and give it to them. Course, his life hadn’t exactly been chockfull of ambition prior to them either. Or any kind of meaning, for that matter. xXx ”Tattletale! District breeder! Twelve Whore!” Hands banged on the windows and the twins shrieked, startled awake just minutes before being put down. “Goddamn punks!” Haymitch hauled himself out of bed. Seeing him coming, the kids fled, giggling hysterically. He slammed the window open. “Come back here, you ignoramuses!” Their laughs echoed as they all scattered to the wind. “Go back to District 12, traitor!” one of them piped. ”It’s OK. It’s OK, baby girl. I’m here. Mama’s here.” Amy wailed in Effie’s arms. Ian too, alone in the crib. That’s what finally moved Haymitch from the window. “Come here. Don’t cry, little ‘un.” He lifted his son up, holding him close. “I ain’t never gonna let anyone hurt you. Not ever.” Haymitch knew his children’s cries. Had heard plenty of it since the moment they were born. He’d even started to recognize some of them, able to tell what cry meant what, with Effie’s help. But he had never heard anything like this and he never wanted to again. The wrong cries. Frightened cries. Like they were scared out of their minds. He cradled Ian close to his chest, rocking him. With his hands clutched into fists the baby wailed from the top of his lungs. Amy did too and all they could do was waiting for it to pass. Ian calmed down first. With his little face buried in his father’s sweater, the safe and familiar smell comforted him. Amy had a worse time. Sometimes there was a pause in her cries with nothing but the occasional whimper but then it was like she remembered it anew and it set her off all over again. Effie rocked her and kissed her and whispered a soft lullaby. Wonderfully out of tune, yes, but the sound lit an idea in Haymitch’s head. “Come. Imma try something.” Holding the twins, they headed for the living room. Haymitch laid Ian down on the couch and Effie had a seat next to him with a crying Amy to her chest. June and Annabel’s piano went with all the rest of the furniture when the moving van rolled out of the Capitol but Effie had one herself. One that belonged to her parents, though not nearly as fancy. Now Haymitch pulled out the music stool in front of it and had a seat. With his fingers on top of the ivories, slow and sweet music filled the air. His first performance since before they were born. It was one of her absolute favorites. Haymitch had played it to her as many times as she liked during the pregnancy. Baby Mine. That’s right. Or Babies Mine as Effie’d come to call it. A mountain air as old as the hills. Haymitch even taught her the lyrics when asked. She heard the words in her mind now, just as clearly as she did the music. Amy quieted down as the music registered. With tears shining on her cheeks her cries turned to sniffles and then nothing at all. Ian nibbled on his knuckles, blinking up at the ceiling. Both the twins listened, in wonderment over the sounds. Then, almost immediately, their eyelids started drooping. “Oh,” said Effie in a hushed voice. “I think they remember.” Haymitch’s dirty blonde hair fell into his eyes as he kept playing the soft lullaby. Effie kissed Amy’s temple, holding her with one arm; her other hand rested against Ian, throughout the rest of the song. xXx “You should’ve let a Capitolian knock you up instead of me.” Haymitch lay on his side, watching Amy and Ian’s chests rise and fall with each breath. They slept soundly now, lying in the middle of the bed, safe between their parents. Effie met his gaze from the other side, caressing their hair. “What kind of rubbish is that?” “I’m serious. You wouldn’t be having this problem if they weren’t my blood.” “Don’t start that again. I don’t care what people think. Amy and Ian are yours and it’s exactly how it should be. I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. You know that.” “OK,” he said. “What about them? What will their lives be like?” An hour later the cab pulled up to the curb. The glowing sun was on its way down, setting the world ablaze. Just the kind of orange Peeta loved. Mrs. Pluckrose stood in her doorway, watching them lift the last of their bags into the car. So giddy she was practically flying on her feet. “We’ll be sorry to see you go,” she thrilled. “Oh, just let it be, Effs,” said Haymitch but Effie had already turned around and left him there with the twins, slumbering in their child safety seats. “We’re not moving, Mrs. Pluckrose,” she said, coming face to face with the neighbor. ”We’re going to District 12 to visit our other children.” Mrs. Pluckrose snorted a laugh. “Your children?” “That’s right. And while we’re being this neighborly, let me just inform you that if you don’t teach your son some decent manners until I get back I might just tell your darling husband about the gentlemen you enjoy spending time with while Timothy’s at school.” Mrs. Pluckrose’s face turned an ugly red. “That’s a filthy lie! And even if it wasn’t, my Carl would never believe the words of a fallen woman like yourself!” “Maybe he will and maybe he won’t. Do you really want to take the chance?” Mrs. Pluckrose’s teeth were clutched so tightly it was a miracle they didn’t shatter like dinner plates at a tourist attraction. Her pale eyes stared into Effie’s who looked straight back, steadfast and unwavering. ”Twelve Whore,” she murmured through pressed lips. “Capitol cunt,” said Effie, loud and clear. Mrs. Pluckrose gasped, gaping like she couldn’t even believe the words. “You!” was all she got out. “You… you!” Effie didn’t stay to hear the rest. She turned on her heel, back to Haymitch and their children. Mrs. Pluckrose wasn’t the only one who stared. Haymitch looked at Effie like he’d never seen anything so magnificent in all of his 40 odd years. “Did you just…?” “Oh, shut up, Haymitch!” She lifted Ian into the car. “Let’s go.” Author’s note: And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why Effie is boss! Baby Mine is from the movie “Dumbo” of course. The 2019 version. You can listen to it on Youtube: “Disney Piano – Dumbo Baby Mine – Relaxing piano.” I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Leave a review if you wanna make my day and make for faster updates.

[sapphire-weapon]

Do you think that people are getting their hopes too high for Leon appearing in RE9? Like yeah, RE4make was a huge success, but it is a retelling. OG Leon hasn't appeared in any games (?) since RE6, which was slammed because they fucked up his character so bad. If he's going to appear again, I'd argue that most players (or at least a large chunk) are not paying attention to how the movies tie into game canon, meaning that his better written personality in RE9 is NOT going to make sense. Many will wonder how he came from RE6 to a more carefully thought out RE9. What fills in the gaps?

It makes more sense to exclude him and instead focus on his younger self throughout the new script, should they continue down that path, so he's consistent. Regardless, I'd want newer games to mainly focus on what the fuck is happening in the BSAA. What HAPPENED to Chris? Why are they using B.O.W.'s!? Where does Rose go from here? I enjoy Leon, I do, but he's not a the main character in the RE franchise and I don't think a lot of people get that.

I could be totally wrong though, lol. I do not speak on behalf of the billions of people playing this game, just my thoughts. Also to clarify bc social anxiety, this isn't hate to your last anon! I liked their question too! It was established that Chris was in his own mission, with his own team DESPITE what he was told. There was strong references to a whole lot of drama between him and his superiors, because he stropped trusting them almost entirely, from what I remember. He technically wasn't supposed to be there and finding B.O.W.'s in the BSAA was an ending scene twist. So I don't understand the connection between him and the people keeping Rose on a leash, either. The closest I can guess is that he made some type of deal to keep her safe and train her to use her powers safely and ethically.

You are giving the CGI films way, way too much credit. You will not at all have to watch Vendetta or Death Island to make sense of Leon's character moving forward, just like how you didn't have to watch Damnation to make sense of him in RE6.

Say RE9 deals with Leon's self-awareness about his status in the government. Well, in RE6, Leon is so much at odds with the government that he had to fake his death at one point in that game. Going into an RE9 that deals with him breaking free and going his own way doesn't really seem crazy to me. In fact, it makes more sense than any other title progression for him.

Answer me honestly: Do you really think that his character's personality progression makes sense if you just go straight RE2 -> RE4 -> RE6?

Because it doesn't.

OG RE4 still gets criticism to this day for how much they changed him from RE2, just like how RE6 gets shit for it.

Also, like.

What's the implication here? That he should never be in a game again because it won't "make sense" to players?

Resident Evil is a video game series first and foremost, and Leon has been its deuteragonist since 1998. I don't understand this mentality that he won't/shouldn't be in a numbered game title again and should be contained strictly to supplementary material moving forward in order to wrap up his story. Why on earth would/should they do that, when Leon's presence in a game helps move units?

Leon is going to be in either RE9 or RE10. This is not really up for debate. Capcom is going to have to close out his story soon because of his age, and it's going to happen in a mainline title.

Because he is the secondary protagonist of a video game series.

[emeraldlupin]

Breaking Down Naruto: Blood Prison Part 3

Part 2

The Box Legend Confusion

Now I'm going to break down the whole plot with the box and Satori. The reason Naruto was framed in this movie was because a group of people from the Hidden Grass wanted to use his enormous chakra (because he is a jinchuriki) to open a thing called the Box of Paradise.

Legend says the box can grant any wish, but no one knows for sure. Back in the era of the Sage of Six Paths, the box allowed the Hidden Grass to nearly conquer the world. But then something happened. No one knows what that thing was, but the Hidden Grass was destroyed.

After that point, there were two factions in the rebuilt Hidden Grass. One is a pro-war faction that wants to use the box to conquer the world and restore the Hidden Grass. They're called the Seeds of Grass. The other side is the Flowers of Grass, who want peace.

Mui, the prison master, is part of the Seeds faction, and he's also the gatekeeper. See, the box is located beyond a gate, which is honestly more like an arc because there is no full wall between you and the box, but whatever. Mui's clan have been the gatekeepers for a long time.

In fact, later in the movie, as the box is being opened, Mui's four masked confederates from the Seeds faction say that as the Gatekeeper, the box will respond to him. So all in all, Mui's family has been tied to the box pretty heavily.

Let's address the whole "Hidden Grass" thing. The ninja village did not exist in the era of the Sage, and the movie is either mixing up timing, or mixing up the hidden village with the country. However, I can't really blame them too much for that, since the series does that all the time.

The whole "pro-war/pro-peace" thing is rather dull and overdone at this point. But let's focus on the rest. No one knows what happened back when the Not Hidden Grass was destroyed. No one knows what caused it, or, one presumes, any real details of how they used the box to conquer the world. the Sage of Six Paths was a long time ago...but then the movie contradicts itself.

At the 21:24 mark of the film, or thereabouts, Mui goes down to his hidden mad science lab where the box and the gate are, and he says the following: "The Box of Paradise gives rise to Satori, moves Satori, and ends with Satori. In every case, it leads to destruction."

Satori is the demonic thing contained within the box, as we later learn. Furthermore, when Gumabunta sees the box, he repeats the exact same line. So that phrase is like a part of a poem, a warning about the dangers of the box.

Somebody knows something. And are you really telling me there were no other warnings or records of the giant demon monster that killed a whole lot of people? There were no records of what that box truly was?

The fact that Mui knows the poem really makes me wonder. After all, he's the gatekeeper. His family have been gatekeepers. It seems like they may have remembered the truth, so what's going on here?

Who started that story about the box granting any wish? I suppose a monster like Satori would want that sort of lie spread around to encourage people to feed him, but again I ask how there were no real records of the truth. Gumabunta even says multiple lands were destroyed by Satori. How are there no legends or records or anything to really dispel these rumors?

Do you see what I'm getting at here? Something feels off. Unfocused. Who started the story? How did all the context of the horrible fear monster get completely lost? How did that poem survive and what does that mean for what the gatekeepers know?

There should be something left over, but the movie doesn't really think about that too hard or use that to its advantage to build mystery or anything.

Mummified Prisoners and Hidden Grass Moving In

Maroi, the Hidden Cloud agent who is utterly horrible, makes a comment at around the 45 minute mark about "who knows when I'll be turned into a mummy with all my chakra extracted?" This is wrong. He said he'd been there for two years. Maybe that's not true, but shouldn't he have figured out by now that when you don't have enough chakra, the box tends to absorb the whole body, not leave a mummy?

Maroi also asks "why the Hidden Grass were so interested in Hozuki Castle," and saying the prisoners were a good source of chakra for the box, more or less. This implies that the castle doesn't belong to the Hidden Grass, but as I have or will discuss in my geography analysis, the idea that the Hidden Grass just runs the place is bizarre.

Vengeance on WHO?

Here's another bit of weird for you. At about the 17 minute mark, Mui is having a meeting with his four masked cohorts. They talk all ominously about how their time for reviving the Hidden Grass will be at hand, etc. But one of them says "Mui, the time has come to avenge your son."

Avenge his son. Avenge him. The son who Mui and these guys deliberately fed to the box. Who exactly would Mui be taking revenge against? You? Himself? What the hell? That's a really dumb line that shows utterly no thought at all.

That line was from the subs. I saw it in both the Netflix subs, and the subs for the version of movie on YouTube. I think it's safe to say that's the way the words are meant to be translated. And you know something? The dub actually did it better.

While not an accurate translation, the dub said "...and to set aside any regrets you had about your son." See how much better that is? The way the line is in the subs, it's like a denial of reality.

Masked Man, Use Disable!

I mentioned/will mention this in my geography analysis, but one of the four masked people can apparently use forcefields and even freeze a person in place, all without any visible hand signs.

How?

The ninjas are magical, sure. But that magic is attached to a magic system with rules. And yes, Kaguya displayed some psychic powers prior to eating the chakra fruit, but she was an alien. These guys are human beings.

Just being able to make your eyes glow and create a force field feels totally out of place. And then you get into just rendering a person immobile. I meant what I said in the chapter, these guys must all be Psychic Type Pokemon or something.

Naruto the Chameleon

In this movie at the 14:26 mark, Naruto is shown using a technique called the Transparent Escape Technique. It is only mentioned in the manga, but seen in the anime. It allows you to blend into your surroundings...or become invisible, I'm not sure which. Jiraiya invented it for peeping. Lovely.

I suppose it's not really a big problem that Naruto knows this technique. I just felt the need to point it out, since him knowing it is unique to this film.

Kekkei Genkai vs Hiden

At the 35:37 mark, Flashback Ryuzetsu refers to her Life Transference Technique as a "kekkei genkai." That is confirmed in the dub, the subs, and you can even hear the phrase "kekkei genkai" in the Japanese audio.

But at the very end of the movie, when she's using it to save Naruto, she calls it a "hiden" technique. Hiden.

Hiden techniques are not the same as kekkei genkai. The latter are genetic superpowers passed down a family. Hiden techniques, while also passed down in a family, are not genetic. This movie couldn't even keep its unique jutsu classification straight.

Part 4

[nycbagcls]

At just the sound of Semaj's voice, Jalen knew what he'd spotted. "Yeah - yeah, it... it is." Right there, right where Jalen could see it every single day. Semaj had always had all of his heart, even if Jalen had done what he'd done. Sure, there were other pictures around the apartment, but most of the others were him with family - his parents, sisters, nieces. That was the only one from his college days, the only one where he was in full uniform, the scarlet and gray colors feeling like a warm hug when he needed one most. He hadn't just placed it there because he knew Semaj was coming - that was its permanent home, and, no matter how this conversation went, it would remain there after that day.

The way his tone was guarded made Jalen know that he hadn't done enough. This man was the one person Jalen had ever let see the entirety of him, no matter how publicly open with the rest of himself he was, Semaj was the only one who knew everything. Who wouldn't just get a laugh and a dismissal for asking him the truest questions about himself. Who Jalen could sit in silence with for hours and feel comfortable without trying to fill that silence. Even after all these years, Jalen knew Semaj Houston like the back of his hand. He'd fucked up, letting him go. No. Pushing him away.

Now, it was Jalen's turn to keep his mouth shut and listen to what Semaj had to say. Slipping his hands into the pockets of his shorts, he had to do his best to keep from crossing his arms over his chest. He didn't want to look defensive, or like he was hiding any of himself from him. He was open to hearing him out, even if his words each felt like a punch to the gut - including the fact that Semaj never stopped loving him, just as Jalen had never stopped loving Semaj. "You're right," he finally replied, drawing one hand out of his pocket to rub at the back of his neck. "You're right. I was selfish, and I was- I was a fucking coward, and I did it for myself." Thinking back on the last eight years of his career, Jalen wouldn't give it up. But Jalen didn't want to have to let go of Semaj, either, especially now. Why did this have to be so difficult? Why couldn't they have met in... in fucking English class, or some other career path where being gay didn't have to mean the end of it all? "You're right. I did that. I did that, and I'm sorry." He bowed his head, teeth chewing at the inside of his cheek. What did change?

"Yeah... I mean, that was part of it. I think I'd die knowing you were in the same city as me and I didn't do shit about it..." They wouldn't be teammates again, but this proximity would've been too much to bear no matter what. They lived closer to each other than the total distance Jalen ran in a day of practice. He would've died if he hadn't said anything. "And... I mean... I'm... this is gonna sound so fucked up," he muttered, moving his hand to scrub over his jaw. "We're getting older. You - you're still at the top of your game, don't get me wrong. But I'm slower than I was, can't get as high on my verticals as I did when I was a rookie. I think my time in this league is coming close to an end - I've got, what, two seasons left? Maybe three...?" He paused, hating to speak those words out loud. He was nearing his father's age when he retired from the sport, so it was no surprise that Jalen was coming close to being done - but saying it made it real. More real than he'd ever admitted before. "I don't wanna retire in silence. I wanna play as hard as I can for as long as I can, but, when I can't, I don't wanna... just... I don't want that to be it." He isn't sure if Semaj is picking up what he's saying. If he's truly understanding what Jalen's implying. "I wanna sell some fucking jerseys, man."

Like any other person would, Semaj found himself inspecting Jalen's home, taking in every bit of it that he could. It was very.. Jalen. From the football jerseys on the wall, to the pictures and the furniture. He liked it. Despite the obvious expensive furniture, and the place itself being quite expensive, it still had a very homey feeling. He knew he would have felt comfortable there if it wasn't for the fact that the two of them weren't really on the best terms at the moment. He would have been able to take Jalen's words to heart - to make himself comfortable, but he couldn't. Not when he still didn't know where the two of them stood with one another. He didn't hate Jalen; he could never bring himself to hate someone that he considered to be the love of his life. But there were still unresolved issues between the two of them that needed to be sorted out. And he wasn't sure how they would be able to go back to what they had.. Or if Jalen even wanted to go back to what they had. As his eyes scanned his home, they couldn't help but stop short when they landed on a photo of the two of them. A surprise look crossed over his face, and he cocked his head to the side. "Is that.." He trailed off, his tone giving away his shock. It was a picture he had kept as well. Along with quite a few others that they had taken with one another during the time they spent as teammates and.. lovers, was the only word he could come up with that applied to them. He didn't know how no one caught onto their bond. The way that they looked at one another was very telling. The fondness and affection in Semaj's eyes whenever he looked at Jalen was obvious to himself, but no one else. And he couldn't help but think that was a good thing. If anything, people being able to pick up on their dynamic would have scared Jalen away from him even more.

Semaj ignored the fuzzy feeling that settled in the pit of his stomach at Jalen's sweet words, and he couldn't help but roll his eyes a little bit, just to brush off the feeling of embarrassment of being complimented by someone whose opinion meant the absolute world to him. The entire human population could find him ugly, but as long as Jalen didn't, he couldn't care less. "Man, shut up.." He mumbled, waving his hand at him dismissively. He hesitated for a split second, before following behind the other male as he walked farther into his apartment, his eyes glued to his own feet as they shuffled forward. He stopped short at his answer, his head picking up and meeting his gaze once more. "You.. you missed me," he echoed, his tone guarded. He'd waited so long to hear those words from Jalen, and yet.. he couldn't help that tinge of anger that he felt. It was outshined by the warm feeling that settled in his stomach at the revelation, but it was still there.

He stayed silent throughout Jalen's whole spiel, taking in his words and processing them. It warmed his heart, knowing that Jalen had kept tabs on him as much as he had on him. That Jalen still wanted him and thought about him and craved him. Semaj wanted nothing more for the past eight years to have this conversation with his former lover. To hear that he was sorry, and that he regretted his words and actions. To that he still wanted him, that he still loved him. But it wasn't that easy. He had to get his own feelings and thoughts off his chest. He wouldn't be able to move forward with anything involving the other if he didn't voice what had been brewing in his mind for damn near a decade. "I.." He swallowed, struggling to find how to put everything he felt into words. "Jalen.. You already know how I feel about you. I've felt the same way for years, my feelings for you have never changed. I've never stopped wanting you. I've never stopped loving you. I just.." He breathed out. "But that wasn't your decision to make. I understand you wanting to cut things off because of your career, but don't.. Don't say you did it to save my career. It wasn't your place. You never.. You never gave me a choice. You just ended things and walked away from me without a second thought." He knew that he was partially to blame. He could have fought harder. He could have reached out to Jalen. He could have infiltrated his life and made it impossible for him to go anywhere without seeing him - but he didn't. He wanted to respect his decision, no matter how much it hurt him. "And now you called me over here to tell me that you don't want to let me slip through your fingers again.. You can't lose something that you don't have. I'm not yours. I'm not in your fingers. You dropped me once and never picked me back up again." He looked away from the other male, shifting from foot to foot. "What changed, hm? Why are you doing all this now? Just because I moved to New York?"

[suna-reversed]

Jujutsu Kaisen hcs- “please don’t leave”

alt. title- needy late night moments

Characters- Yuji, Gojo, Sukuna, Megumi

Tags- angst if you squint but mainly fluff

Yuji- 

- You fell asleep on him while watching a horror movie late night. 

- His one hand clutched the popcorn bowl, the other coming around to cradle your head subconsciously as your body slumped over into his side. 

- His main task for the next hour was to not move a single muscle in fear you’d wake up and go inside the bedroom to sleep.

- He’s just been a little touch starved and liked the warmth you were radiating.

- His task proves to be quite difficult considering he was watching a horror movie with jump-scares every two minutes. 

- It takes 5 failed attempts at Yuji trying not to jolt up whenever something pops up for you to finally stir awake, and you find your eyes meeting with the absolutely terror filled ones of your lover.

- “Please don’t leave” he whispers in a voice that makes your heart break. You end up taking that as him being scared of the movie

- Still in a sleepy daze, you crawl over into his lap, affectionately nosing at his neck while his strong arms come around to hold you tightly, 

- “I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here mmkay?” A smile of pure tenderness forms across Yuji’s face, soon enough turning into choking laughter as you sleepily mumble, “I’m ready to throw hands with them dead people”

- “Zombies, babe. They’re zombies.”

- “The only thing they’ll be once I’m done with them is...dead” You slur out that last part, falling back into slumber with a small smile on your face as you feel Yuji shake with silent laughter, his hand coming up to gently pat the back of your head,

- “Thank you baby, I’d throw hands with zombies for you any-day too.”

Gojo Satoru 

- You rolled over in the empty bed for the thousandth time that night. You had learned long before that on most nights you’ll be sleeping without your Satoru.

- So what was different today? Maybe it was the fact that he had informed you of his return. But it had been 2 days since then, and Gojo had never not shown up the same day that he’d told you he was coming back.

- Despite knowing the man you loved was practically undefeatable by most, your mind had considered every single possibility, from him getting captured by a curse to him tripping over and falling into an abandoned sewage line.

- Your stomach churned with anxiety as you considered whether calling Nanami this late to check on Gojo would be a good idea.

- You were halfway into typing his number when you heard the familiar click of the door unlocking, your feet carrying you to the front door faster than your mind could process it.

- And there he was. The bag of sweets he gets you each time in his left hand as he apprehended you with a raised brow and cocky look, 

- “Couldn’t sleep without me sweetheart?”

- He was met with eerie silence as you continued to stare at him. Your sleep deprived mind still processing that he was home. He was safe. 

- Gojo immediately sensed that something was wrong, but before he could react, you were walking towards him, crashing into his arms as he brought his hands around you when-

Thump! 

- Did you just...punch his chest? 

- “I was- I was so scared” you sniffed into his chest. “...you idiot.”

- Gojo’s heart twisted in pain as he heard a sob escape you, his arms tightening around you as he rested his chin on your head. He let you cry it out, gently picking you up and carrying you to the bedroom in midst of you murmuring various swear words at him 

- He finally felt you beginning to calm down as he tucked you in the on your side of the bed. But, as he pulled away, he felt a hand clutch onto his wrist, 

- “Please don’t leave” you said, your voice quivering. 

- “Baby...” he said with a gentle voice, “I’m just going to go change, okay? I’m not going anywhere”

- Even as Gojo changed, he felt your eyes digging into his back like he’d disappear if you let him out of sight for even a moment. 

- He quickly pulled on a pair of sweats, opting to not wear a shirt as he moved into bed with you, your limbs immediately coming to wrap around him. 

- You laid in silence for a while 

- “y/n?” You hummed in acknowledgement, face still buried in his chest

- “I’m always going to come back home to you my love. That’s a promise okay?” 

- You nodded in response, eyes turning glassy once more as Gojo leaned forward to pepper kisses all over your forehead, cheeks, and nose. 

- Gojo lifted his blindfold as he felt your breathing slow down, his ocean eyes filled with utmost adoration as he simply let himself admire your sleeping form. 

Sukuna

- The curse found itself being stuck in its vessel at the most useless of times. - 

- After a late night mission when the brat crashed at your surveillanced apartment, while you completed the formalities and paperwork to submit to Nanami the next morning. 

- Walking out of the guest room, Sukuna found himself amused by your ability to fall asleep in the weirdest of places

- Currently, you sat hunched over the kitchen table, head resting sideways in your arms, tiny snores leaving your mouth as your eyes remained shut. 

- The curse looked back to a few days ago when it had found itself in it’s vessel’s body unwillingly again, a strange warmth curled in his left side. Looking down, he had realised that the strange warmth came from your huddled up body. 

- You had immediately snapped open your eyes and moved away as soon as he had let out a low chuckle. 

- So this time, he approached you carefully. But even then, he had expected you to sense someone’s presence so close next to you. 

- But there was no reaction from you, even as he pulled the chair right next to you and sat down on it.

- “Oi brat”

- Still no response.

- Oh, had you finally let your guard down?

- A dozen different malicious ideas filled Sukuna’s mind, but he found himself simply sitting there, awaiting for a reaction from you. 

- He wondered how you could sleep so comfortably on what was practically a wooden slab. And he found his answer questioned as he curiously leaned down on his own arms, facing you, your noses merely an inch away as he regarded your calm face with a raised brow. 

- He had imagined you to be snarky and biting at him even in your sleep. 

- Why had he imagined you sleeping at all?

- He found himself avoiding the question.

- He stilled as your eyes fluttered open, a cocky smile making it’s way on his lips as he awaited your fear filled eyes. 

- Instead, he found you simply staring back at him, the most of a reaction being you furrowing your brows slightly 

- He didn’t know whether he was a little offended by your lack of response or highly unsettled by your piercing gaze. Nonetheless, he found himself turning his head away, almost in a petty childlike manner. 

- Why did he not get up and leave?

- He felt a hand come to the back of his head, and his senses instantly got ready to go into offensive mode. 

- But this was something much much worse than an attack.

- He found your fingers gently brush over his hair, almost like you were absorbing it’s softness into your fingertips. The breaking point was you gently scratching his head with your nails. He almost purred. 

- But he also found his own hand coming up to grip your wrist, stilling your hand in place.

- “What-are-you-doing?” He emphasised each word as he turned his towards you again, hand still holding yours above his head.

- You continued to stare at him with a look he didn’t quite understand,

- “Your hair is...soft” You slurred your words a little, wiggling your fingers that were trapped in his hand. He let go, only to find you entangling your hand back into his hair, quite shamelessly this time as you closed your eyes once again.

- He didn’t know whether it was the tiredness of that night or simply your sleepiness, but you didn’t acknowledge it the next day. He chose not to either even though he had spent all night thinking of how he’d get to tease you with this.

- But, the king of curses did find himself leaning more towards you whenever you were in his presence. Your hand brushing with his every now and then. Him gently tugging on a strand of hair before tucking it behind your ear and you letting him. Staying right there if he woke up with you on his shoulder while on the train back from a mission. 

- Eventually, you show up to Yuji’s room on a day much similar to the night where you first touched the curse, eyes sunken and shoulders slumped, desperate for any sort of comfort and almost relieved at the fact that he was there. 

- He was taken back as you climbed into the bed, arms wrapping around him, hands going straight to tangle themselves in his hair as you buried your face in his chest.

- “Please don’t leave” 

- He found his own arms pulling you further into him because who was he to deny you when your touch felt so divine? 

Megumi

- Getting a call from Megumi at 2 am after you had just returned from a mission was the last thing you had expected

- Megumi had grown considerably close to you for a boy who didn’t always wear his emotions on his sleeve.

- However, perhaps it was the fact that you had ended up giving him a tiny huge scare by going missing for a few hours on the mission

- It wasn’t anything major, you had gotten injured and accidentally strayed off the path you were ordered to follow

- Nonetheless, the news had reached the school, particularly Megumi, who was halfway out, ready to go and save you from whatever had taken you when the message had come that they had found you unconscious in some corner of the forest. He had only left the infirmary after being assured countless times that you were fine and being pulled away by Yuji.

- Still, he found his mind running and all he wanted was to hear your voice to make sure you were okay.

- He honestly hadn’t expected you to pick up, but he hadn’t known that the nurse had allowed you to go back to your dorm once you woke up.

- So he found himself speechless as he heard your voice

- “...Megumi? Is everything okay?”

- “Yes” he murmured.

- “The nurse told me you were there with me for quite a while…”

- There was a beat of silence before he said,

- “You scared me”

- He immediately hung up after that.

- You knew that it was difficult for him to express such emotions and so you found your feet carrying you to the front of his door

- You weren’t exactly sure of what you were going to do, but you didn’t have to figure that out as the door opened in your face, Megumi gesturing for you to come in.

- As soon as you shut the door, you felt your body being pulled into his warm embrace. You sighed, taking in his familiar scent of night-chilled mist and cedar as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

- You eventually ended up on his bed, limbs tangled with each other under the sheets as he traced random patterns onto your arm to convey the words he couldn’t say, till he fell asleep.

- You found yourself noticing the time, sighing as you got ready to go back to your dorm, but Megumi noticed the slight movement,

- “Angel...” he murmured sleepily, nuzzling his head into your neck, “Please don’t leave.”

- Your heart melted at his words and the consequences of sleeping in another student’s room seemed to fade from your mind as you tightened your grip on him,

- “Never”

[soleilnomoon]

hi!!!!! i was thinking of a zoro nsfw with a female reader where the two drink an aphrodisiac (an accident) but they were exploring an island with the crew and can't do anything until night but when night comes they sleep on the island with their straw hats and at least they try to do cockwarming but after a few minutes they can't take it and they go somewhere else and they lie down somewhere on the island and do it and it looks very romantic and passionate until they come and at the same time they're caught by one of the crew (not luffy or chopper please)

this took much longer than i meant to but, i think i've captured the essence of it ପ(๑•ᴗ•๑)ଓ ♡ enjoyyy

1.9k words, afab reader (no pronouns), a splash of fluff, a sprinkle of angst, and a scoop of nsfw (cute, huh); zoro's dumb as usual, but this time he's sort of in the right.

after careful deliberation, you come to the agonizing conclusion that you were wrong and he was right. he’ll never let you hear the end of it now. thankfully, you’re already off the sunny, ready to explore the small island that your crew decided to explore. the climate is a welcomed change from the previous island you came from—one that had lightning storms, hail, and rain meant to burn your skin. here, the sun is a little less than pleasant, the humidity not bothersome enough to cry about it, and the water shimmers brilliantly—gem-like in its luminosity under the sunlight.

you manage to convince your captain to split the crew into groups—your intention being that you want to put as much distance between yourself and zoro, or else you might be in much bigger trouble than you already are. when you think that you’ve managed to escape him temporarily, luffy makes a last minute swap and zoro joins your group. great. you frown a bit and in return he frowns right back.

it’s not an ideal situation for him, either. he thinks back to your last conversation, where he kept trying to tell you that there was something funny with the wine you bought at the festival. by then, both of you were drunk, the argument growing sillier and rowdier by the minute. eventually, you storm out of your room and do your best to sober up on the deck before jinbe anchors it near the island. both of you are irritated—with one another, with the wine, and with the fact that your bodies are actively trying to ruin your lives.

“we should go east first,” you suggest, hoping to get your group moving; you suspect if you move around enough and sweat the wine out, you’ll be fine. surely the side effects won’t bother you if you focus your mind on something menial, like counting your steps, or counting branches on trees, anything.

as long as it takes your mind off of your boyfriend, you’ll be eternally grateful.

the day is determined to be complicated—and, no matter how hard you try to keep him on the path, zoro eventually wanders off on his own. you turn to ask the others if they can help you find him, but nami, brook, and franky leave you behind. they would, but you can’t blame them. there’s no sense in all of you getting lost on the island. 

but five minutes turns to thirty and then an hour. you’re sweating a little, and are almost ready to pull your hair out when you hear rustling nearby. zoro stumbles from behind a tree, rubbing the back of his neck, looking around—clueless as ever.

“this looks familiar,” he muses out loud, scratching his chin before spotting you. no doubt, zoro probably circled the area more than five times already without realizing.

“why is it,” you start, annoyance bubbling over as you head his way, “that every time we have to go somewhere,” you jab your finger into his chest, but it has no effect on him, “you manage to get lost?” it ends up distracting the group, and he constantly finds himself in a situation or two—not that it bothers him, he’s just there to have a good time.

“s’not a big deal, you know that.” he raises a brow at you, not entirely sure why his deviation makes you upset. you sigh and run your hands down your face. it’s really not fair for you to be irate, not when he hasn’t done anything wrong. you’re just extremely… frustrated. it eats away at your resolve, and by the time you’ve calmed down, a dull ache resurfaces in your lower abdomen.

similarly, any residual annoyance he has dies down entirely, giving rise to that insatiable hunger that he’s been ignoring for the majority of the afternoon. he lets out a slew of curse words, pacing near the tree and running a shaky hand through his hair. you both promised you would wait things out, but it seems like the longer you spend not touching each other, the more difficult it becomes to keep coherent and sensible.

because sensible people don’t just abandon their crew mates to fuck in an undisclosed part of the jungle. you do your best to remain in control, but you fail miserably. zoro watches you intently as you inch closer, and once you’re within reach, he pulls you in for a kiss. he means for it to just be short, but—

franky calls out your names and you extract yourself from zoro’s hold. you lick your lips absently and speed walk towards franky’s voice, not checking to see if zoro follows behind you or not. it’s just too much. being that close to him is going to make you implode—you’re too young to go out like that.

zoro manages to get back to your group and after a few more hours, you’re all tuckered out from the day. after having a big bonfire on the beach with the rest of your crew mates, after eating your fill of the various dishes sanji whipped up, and after laughing so hard you cry for minutes at a time, you’re finally ready for bed. you fully intend on setting up somewhere further away from the others, wanting to have space since you still feel a little lightheaded from the wine.

actually, now that you think about it, you’re not even sure if what you drank was wine. 

so much for proving him wrong.

you wrap your blanket around you, snuggling and trying to get comfortable, but feeling entirely too restless for sleep to find you. he’s not doing any better, much to his disappointment. his cock is relentless, stiff and imposing itself on him without any leniency. he pinches the bridge of his nose and takes a deep breath, deciding that enough is enough—both of you are being ridiculous and he’s sick of it.

zoro’s footsteps are always distinct to you, especially when it’s quiet. you’re not surprised to feel him slide under your blanket, thick arm wrapping around you; a smile tugs on your lips as you turn around and press your lips against his gently. his hand trails down your back slowly and you playfully suck on his bottom lip, wanting to tease him a bit before trying to sleep again, but it backfires. his mouth clings to yours as he gives you heated tongue kisses, stealing every last rational thought that remained in your mind. 

and, because you can’t help yourself, your hand slips inside of his pants and wraps around his cock; you stroke it slowly, liking the way his skin feels against yours and the way his kisses grow sloppier the longer you tease him. in between kisses, your dress gets hiked up, panties pulled aside haphazardly as he tugs his pants low enough for his cock to be free. you curl your leg around his hip and he slides his tip inside of you. you struggle to keep quiet, struggle to tell him to just fuck you recklessly right then and there—but you know if you do that, everyone will wake up and you’ll never be able to face them again.

zoro has enough sense to know that simply having his cock inside of you isn’t enough; despite loving the indescribable warmth that your pussy provides, he knows he can’t keep this up for long. you don’t last more than a few minutes, before you both decide to go somewhere much more secluded. after making yourself somewhat decent, you both quietly creep away from the others, hands tenderly holding onto one another.

on your expedition earlier, you remember one area with colorful flowers that seemingly came as you walked past them. you bring him there, excited to find that they’re equally as beautiful—if not more so—underneath the moonlight. zoro wastes no time and pulls you down with him, laughing quietly as you both clumsily remove each other’s clothes. it’s not the most romantic thing you’ve experienced, but you have to admit that being alone with him—and uninterrupted at that—is heavenly.

his hands knead your breasts as you straddle him, his fingers pinching your nipples before his mouth takes over. you moan his name louder than you mean to, but you suppose it’s fine since no one else is around to hear; you playfully chastise him for being too rough, so he sucks on your nipples harder.

you rub your dripping, aching pussy along the length of his stiff cock in retaliation, his hands fly to your hips, gripping them tightly. when you lift up and sink down onto his cock, he releases your breasts, falling back onto the grass and watching his cock disappear into your tight hole. everything about you mesmerizes him—from the way you bite your lips at the sensation of his cock filling you up, to the way you arch your back, hair cascading over your shoulder as you ride him slowly. 

everything feels so intense—much too intense—there’s a breeze but all you can feel is the heat that accumulates between your bodies. despite all of that, you enjoy every second; when he thrusts his hips upward, pushing his cock further inside of you, you let out a startled cry. your eyes close and you call his name out over and over, his hands grabbing your ass roughly as his own moans mix with yours. it’s a lewd symphony—the sounds that your pussy makes each time he thrusts into you is enough to drive you wild; you hate how much you love it. it’s filthy but also such a lovely sound, one that he covets and tries to seek out whenever he can.

eventually, he has you on your back, one of your legs draped over his shoulder as he leans close and fucks you like the world is ending. it certainly feels that way, anyway, with how desperately you’re both seeking that release. because you’ve been on edge all day, it’s no surprise that you find yourself clenching around him tightly, a subtle warning that only makes him buck his hips against yours harder—reckless, selfish, otherworldly thrusts that make you fall in love with him all over again. your nails dig into his skin, you leave scratch marks on his back and when he angles his hips in a particular way, you feel your body tense, a rush of adrenaline pouring through you.

it’s not often that you both experience an orgasm simultaneously; and maybe the ‘wine’ might have something to do with it, but you’re out of breath by the end of it, forehead pressed against his as his hips slow, your pussy having what you feel is a miniature seizure from how hard he fucked you. zoro kisses you again, a little more gently than he normally does, and you think that maybe it’s not so bad that you found yourself in such a weird situation after all.

once you’re dressed again, all smiles as his arm slings around your waist, you head back to where your crew has set up camp, hoping to sneak into your respective areas without issue when you hear a familiar chuckle off to your right.

when you whip your head, you notice that nami is up, mischief dancing around her eyes as she wiggles her fingers at you knowingly. your face burns and zoro belatedly asks what she means by that, but she hums and simply says that that’s a conversation for another day, before turning over and feigning sleep.

you know that she’ll find a way to blackmail you both into owing her money for years, and you should be a little more worried about that, but all you can think about is how you wish you hadn’t finished off that bottle of wine so quickly.

[obae-me]

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!”