#the only thing they have to do is google the FUCKING PERSON
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Alex, this was amazing!! I absolutely loved this! I think I laughed throughout without pausing. Like, I was cackling vividly 😂😂
Dean:
He’s not sick. Because he doesn’t get sick. Dean claims he has the constitution of a horse, but you still take the beer out of his hand before he can take a sip at 10:00 a.m.
That already took me out. First two lines. Bravo. You've done it 🤣
I'm guessing this is post Chuck lmao
“I’m find,” he insists, even as he begrudgingly accepts the gentle pressure of your hand on his back and shoulder, pushing him down to the bed.
You know why I picked it 😝 (👏👏👏) And not the flannel and the runny nose, yikes. Loved this exchange (and callback) lol
He knows that you care about him. That you love him. But this is one of those moments where it hits him, just how much.
Took a brief second from laughing, so I could push tears out of my eyes 😭
But absolutely agree, you'd have to wear Dean down and force him into it lmao
Beau:
His coughing sneeze makes you grimace. You didn’t even know someone could sneeze and cough at the same time.
Back to laughing. My God, that was the sneeze of the century 😂😂
“Nah, can’t be sick. Gotta lot of work to do today,” he says.
Mutually exclusive, obviously 🤷♀️
“How long until I’m allowed out, warden?” he asks.
Seems like the man flu hasn't swallowed the charm either 🥰
He stops you by grabbing your wrist. “Hey, uh…can I have some chicken noodle soup later?” “Of course, baby. I’ll swing by the store now and get some stuff for you.” “And some saltines?”
And that's the moment I realized Beau's like my husband when he's sick 😂 (🙄)
It's like you were in my house and wrote a transcript of the last man flu epidemic of 2024 😆🤌
(PS: Real proud for finding that gif 😂)
A good add-on for Beau would be talking about his symptoms and aches... constantly loll. ("Babe, my throat is still dry and very weird right here. I googled and it says it could be laryngitis, cancer or the Marburg virus." 😂)
Ben:
Oh and then, Ben. Ben, Ben, Ben, Ben... I thought for sure he'd be the worst, like this virus is a personal attack on his virility 🤣 But I was pleasantly surprised when you brought in memories of his mother 🥹😭
“Fuck,” he groans, dragging a hand over his face before he turns onto his back.
That immediate fuck got me so hard 🤣🤣
He’s a sourpatch grumbly patient who only begrudgingly stays put in bed when you ask him to.
Ah, yes, gramps 😂🫶 (And he honestly shares that with a lot of old man in hospitals and nursing homes who have to be repeatedly told to stay in bed lol)
“Hey, sweetheart,” he calls to you from the bedroom, his voice croaking all the while. “I’m getting you a yacht for Valentine’s Day. You want it all white, or throw in a bit of gold? Actually, check out this one with the navy trim.”
*snorts* Of course the brat's online shopping for yachts 😆
“Why can’t you put some fucking steak in it or something?” he grouses. He tries and fails to hide another wet cough. “Why can’t you just eat what I lovingly made, just for you,” you snipped back.
Oh God, all their bickering was amazing! It's honestly always one of the most fun things when writing SB – the sheer frustration of the reader 😭😂🙈
And I loved the addition of Priestly!! 😍💚💙🤘 (I've been thinking of finally writing that one-shot for him lol)
“Aw, that’s still good,” he argues.
Great idea, man. Add a stomach bug to that man flu lmao
“Know what would really make me feel better?” he hedges. He tries to guide you down to him by tugging on your hand, but you resist him.
I could also totally see him turning into a Monica there 😂
“When you’re feeling better, you can ask me that question properly.”
Oh, oh, thank God! The relief I felt 😂 I mean, it's so, so sweet, but also you're very sick, dude, and germy... like, it's a lot 😆
(And I also sincerly hope there will be a proposal follow-up one-shot/drabble... maybe? 👀)
I loved this so much! You were spilling nothing but truths here! 😂💯🩵
HEADCANON: Man Flu
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Pairings: Dean Winchester x Reader || Beau Arlen x Reader || Soldier Boy/Ben x Reader || Boaz Priestly x Reader
HC: When Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen, Soldier Boy (Ben), and Boaz Priestly get sick, how would they act when you (try to) take care of them?
AN: After reading I Got You by @bettystonewell (Dean x Reader) and The Best Kind of Medicine by @lamentationsofalonelypotato (Soldier Boy x Reader), I realized that I've never actually written a sick-fic before. Here it is in headcanon form, since you guys seem to like these! lol ���
Also adding Priestly to this lineup for the first time because some of you have been requesting more of him recently. 😉
Tags/Warnings: Established relationship, hurt/comfort, sick-fic, some needy affection-starved men who don't want to admit they're needy, lots of fluff.~
Dean Winchester
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He's not sick. Because he doesn't get sick.
Dean claims he has the constitution of a horse, but you still take the beer out of his hand before he can take a sip at 10:00 a.m.
He's too busy interrupting himself, namely by coughing half a lung, wheezing, blinking teary eyes -- the whole phlegmy nine yards.
Sam shakes his head, casting you a look that frankly says, Good luck.
He knows his brother is stubborn as hell, and one of the things Dean dislikes most is being fussed over for "no reason." Being seen as weak. Not being able to just shrug his shoulders and shake it off.
To be fair, Dean tries. Except this time it's accompanied by a body shiver and a reluctant sniffle. His pallid face is drawn, and his usually strong and solid frame looks unsteady as he leans a hand on the War Room table.
"Okay, come on, Rambo. Let's get you back into bed," you say, guiding your boyfriend back to the room you share with him.
"I'm find," he insists, even as he begrudgingly accepts the gentle pressure of your hand on his back and shoulder, pushing him down to the bed.
"Sure you are, baby," you say with a smirk. "You're in the primb of libe."
Dean shoots you a narrowed look. Damn you for forcing him to binge-watch all those episodes of Friends late at night when you both can't sleep.
Right now he's Monica, trying to convince you he's in tip-top shape, while you're Chandler, just trying to get him to use tissues instead of his flannel sleeve to wipe his runny nose.
After taking his boots off, you get him to change out of his jeans and back into his sweatpants. Then you manage to get him to lay down under the covers with the promise of coming back with medicine and soup.
"I don't want soup, damn it," he grumbles. You just roll your eyes and rub his arm.
"Just rest. I'll be back with the Vicks."
As you might expect, Dean is not an easy patient.
He refuses to drink tea, but he does down the pills you bring for him, with a measured toss of his head that still makes his head swim. He groans.
He swallows a couple of cautious spoonfuls of the soup, pausing when he realizes that its warmth actually feels good down his sore and scratchy throat. It tastes pretty good too, especially with the warm, buttered slices of bread on the side.
"You made this?" he asks.
"Mhmm," you nod, smiling. If nothing else, good food will pacify this man. "Chicken and wild rice, made especially for you."
"Hmm. S' good," he nods in reply. He manages to finish the bowl.
He has to admit, if just to himself, that he does feel like shit.
He won't admit that the way you're rubbing his back, the gentle pressure of your nails between his shoulders and down his spine relaxes him, makes him feel better.
He knows that you care about him. That you love him. But this is one of those moments where it hits him, just how much.
It's a little overwhelming. A heavy swell of pressure fills his chest, so he tries not to let himself think about it for very long.
(He fails.)
After he's done eating, you take the plates away and help him back into bed. You linger there, slipping your fingers through his soft brown hair and pressing a kiss to his clammy forehead.
"I really need you to rest, okay," you say quietly. "If you need anything, just text me or Sam. Don't get out of bed."
Dean grasps your hand before you can move away from him. Since you're probably going to wash your hands anyway, he lays a kiss on the back of your hand.
"Thanks, sweetheart."
Beau Arlen
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Sheriff Beau Arlen is the type to run himself into the ground because he's so damn into his work.
He wants to do well in his station of responsibility, and he feels like he has to make up for his performance during the summer madness of Buck Barnes and Avery...and everything in between.
You just have to make Beau realize that he needs to slow down, before he well and truly burns himself out.
You put your foot down one morning.
He tries to get out of bed but has to pause, his head swimming. He takes a couple of steadying breaths while sitting on the edge of the bed.
You notice with a frown. "Hey, you okay?"
"Fine. Just fine," he answers a little too breathlessly. He raises a hand to his head. His throat is sticky and coarse. He wrinkles his nose when he also feels a sneeze coming on.
"Just need a...a...mugh-ah-ha-hugh."
His coughing sneeze makes you grimace. You didn't even know someone could sneeze and cough at the same time.
"Aw, babe. You're sick," you say as you move over to him, resting a hand on his back. He shakes his head and groans.
"Nah, can't be sick. Gotta lot of work to do today," he says. His voice is like gravel blended with broken glass. It would actually be sexy, if for the distinctly un-sexy way he tries to clear the great wad of phlegm from his throat.
He tries to rock himself onto his feet, but there he sways on the landing. You hurry out of bed to grab his arm and steady him.
"Oh no, you don't. Back into bed," you say.
"Aw, sweetheart. I'll be fine--"
"No. Lay down. You're not going in today," you say more firmly, all while you tuck the man back into bed with the blankets covering him.
"All right, all right. No need to be so pushy," he can't help but tease.
It earns a small smirk on your face. It seems like his man flu hasn't yet deprived him of his sense of humor.
"I thought you liked that though," you reply. You sit on the edge of the bed and rub his chest. He groans in defeat.
"Can't believe this," he grumbles. "Today of all days--"
"There's always going to be another case. This is your body telling you that you need to slow down," you tell him. "So how about this. I'm gonna call in one of my sick days, and we'll bunker in together."
You stroke his bearded cheek. He quirks a smile, grabbing your hand and squeezing warmly.
"How long until I'm allowed out, warden?" he asks.
"Until you can stand without keeling over," you dryly reply. A smile tugs at your lips. "Remind me to stop by CVS to grab you a Life Alert."
"All right, har har haugh--" His sarcasm ends on a very real, wheezing cough. Your amused smile drops. You relent from your teasing and stroke his chest once more.
"Okay, just rest. Let me get you some actual medicine and I'll be right back."
He stops you by grabbing your wrist. "Hey, uh...can I have some chicken noodle soup later?"
"Of course, baby. I'll swing by the store now and get some stuff for you."
"And some saltines?"
"Saltine crackers on the side. Got it."
You're about to head to the bathroom to brush your teeth before you start getting ready to go to the store, but once again, Beau's needy hand stops you.
"Before you go, some tea with honey and lemon would be good. Just something for my throat," he croaks.
You smile and nod. "Yeah, for sure. That'll be better for you than coffee."
"Oh, and can you gimme that quilt over there?" he asks, pointing to your favorite knitted blanket at the edge of the bed. You graciously lay it over his form and drop a kiss onto his forehead.
"And some cough drops. Thank you, darlin'," Beau adds.
Your lips begin to press together, but you nod and continue getting dressed.
You can already tell this man is going to settle into you taking care of him just fine.
Soldier Boy (Ben)
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Neither of you thought it was possible, considering his super genes that allowed him to eat and booze and drug harder than Andre the Giant and Keith Richards put together.
But one day, your over six-foot super soldier goes down hard. The warning signs came the night before, when you could hardly sleep with the way he was snoring like a grizzly bear.
In the morning, he wakes bleary-eyed with a runny nose and a coughing fit hard enough to shake the bed.
"Fuck," he groans, dragging a hand over his face before he turns onto his back. "This's gotta be some kind of bullshit hangover."
You move over to him in bed and feel the intense warmth of his clammy forehead. Your brows draw together in concern.
"No, I think you're sick."
"Not possible," he grumbles. "I haven't been sick since..."
Well, since he was a kid, probably. He won't admit it, but he's surprised he still has that memory lodged in the back of his mind.
It comes to the forefront now: your hand on his cheek unknowingly mimics his mother's gentle touch, her soft, kind voice.
"Aw, my sweet boy. Let's get you feeling better."
He can almost recall the floral scent of her perfume, echoes of it in the shampoo you use.
Ben claims he's fine, that he doesn't need your help or want the medicine and tea you bring for him. (He tries the tea, grimaces, and spits it out when you're not looking.)
He's a sourpatch grumbly patient who only begrudgingly stays put in bed when you ask him to. He doesn't mind lying around and watching movies all day, not to mention episode after episode of Below Deck. It reminds him that he wants to get back into boating.
"Hey, sweetheart," he calls to you from the bedroom, his voice croaking all the while. "I'm getting you a yacht for Valentine's Day. You want it all white, or throw in a bit of gold? Actually, check out this one with the navy trim."
You roll your eyes to yourself when you step back into the room. You're carrying a tray with a large bowl of soup and a fifth of whiskey. He claims the latter will help soothe his throat, and you don't have the heart to argue with him when he's clearly feeling so shitty.
"You mean you're getting you a yacht," you reply wryly. "We live in the city. Where the hell would we put a boat?"
"In a yacht club, where it belongs," Ben retorts. He hooks an arm around your waist and peruses what you've brought him on the tray. He doesn't look all that interested.
"Look, I know you're not exactly a soupy kinda guy, but this'll make you feel better," you say.
"Why can't you put some fucking steak in it or something?" he grouses. He tries and fails to hide another wet cough.
"Why can't you just eat what I lovingly made, just for you," you snipped back.
He rolls his eyes at your attitude, but he pipes down. In that silence, he's conceding that you have a point. There was a time were all he had to do was glance in someone's direction, and there'd be some fucking moron to fulfill his every whim.
Now, you're probably the only one in the world that would actually do what you're doing...
Cooking for him, putting your heart into it, for the simple reason that you do care.
Ben takes the bowl of soup from your hands. Raising a brow, you offer him the spoon as well.
He eats without further complaint.
You smile and reward him with a sweet kiss on his forehead, brushing his hair back as you do so.
"See? That's not so hard, huh?" you can't help but needle him. "It's okay, baby. I'll take care of you."
He eyes you dryly, but he won't admit that there's a different kind of warmth coiling in his chest.
Boaz Priestly
"Uuuughhh, babe," he groans. "I feel like death on toast."
You're standing beside the bed with a smile playing on your lips. You brush back his for once un-gelled hair back from his face. It's weird to see it all limp and lifeless, slightly damp with sweat.
"Unironically, I should make you some toast," you reply. "What kind of medicine do we have?"
Priestly unearths his head from under his pillow to look up at you with miserable red-rimmed eyes and a sniffling, stuffy nose. "Can we count the tequila in the mini bar?"
"Maybe later," you laugh. "How are we on groceries?"
Priestly struggles to think. He takes your hand and rubs it back and forth across his chest. Maybe your sweet, loving touch has the power to clear away his congestion without him needing Vicks. Too minty.
"We have that pastrami I brought back from the shop," he says.
"That's six days old already," you shake your head.
"Aw, that's still good," he argues. "But uh, other than that, I think I have half a cheeseburger left from last night."
Last night's date at TGI Friday's, he means.
You heave a sigh. "Okay, clearly I'm going to the store. You just stay in bed and rest. Drink your tea."
He grimaces like a child. "I don't like tea."
"I know you don't like tea, but you need to drink it. It's good for your throat and your immune system."
He groans and flops back over onto his stomach. You bite your lip against a smile. He's such a whiny baby when he's sick.
Talk about Man Flu.
"Come on, be a good boy for me," you say, smacking him lightly on the ass. "Soon enough you'll feel better."
A smile creeps across his face where it's pressed against his pillow.
"Know what would really make me feel better?" he hedges. He tries to guide you down to him by tugging on your hand, but you resist him.
"Oh, no. You're not gonna get your germs all over me," you say.
"Hey, what happened to in sickness and in health?" he croaks. Even while under the weather, he's still plenty strong enough to grapple with you. He manages to yank you down. Laughing, you stumble into a seat on the edge of the bed.
"Huh, I don't remember exchanging any vows. You see a ring on this finger?" you tease, flashing your bare hand in his face to try and distract him and weasle out of his grip. "I can jump this ship anytime I want."
Priestly pouts. His arm hooks tighter around your waist. "Huh, guess you got me there..."
He turns his head and coughs roughly into his arm. Your amusement fades into concern and sympathy. You lay a hand over his chest while he struggles.
Once again, he clasps his free hand over yours. He glances up a bit hesitantly into your eyes.
"Well, maybe it's time there should be something on this finger," he murmurs.
You blink your eyes wider. Your head tilts, wondering if you just heard him right. Is this delirium fever talking, or is he serious?
"O-Oh yeah?" you ask.
Priestly tries to gauge your reaction. Seeing your face break out into a cute, shy smile raises the corners of his lips. Hope blooms in his chest, right beneath your hand.
"Yeah," he says, trying to clear his cracking throat. "I mean, if you're okay with that. If it's not too soon--"
You slip your fingers over his plush, chapped lips, and your smile brightens.
"When you're feeling better, you can ask me that question properly."
AN: 😆 I hope you liked the first ever addition of Priestly!! It was so fun to try and write him again (it's been a while lol). Feel free to imagine this vignette in the same storyverse as The Miracle Man and Code Red.
But I also hope you enjoyed the "Big 3," as I call them, even though Russell is starting to give Beau a run for his money on one of those slots. 😂 Let me know which guy you had the most fun reading on this one! 💜
And if you want even more fluff before Valentine's Day, check out my friend @waynes-multiverse who just posted her set of V-Day headcanons with Dean, Soldier Boy, Beau, and Russell: Headcanon: Valentine's Day 💕
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the only person outside of the monastery crew that knows rinka and rin are the same person are shura and the (now retired) shiemihaza. shura's not talking and shiemi's grandma is. as we all know. going to die before the story starts.
shiemi knows rinka, since he often accompanies shiro on supply runs before missions. she's the first human he's ever met that's not his mother that's not the slightest bit afraid of him.
local demon boy thinks girl he just met is an angel, more at 11.
shiro, to the other monks: ...i think rinka has a crush on shiemihaza's girl?
(he doesn't know if he should encourage this or not? shiemihaza doesn't seem to mind, but he's positive no one else in the Vatican would like it.)
rin is the king of saying shit he shouldn't know and quickly covering it up with my dad told me. hahaha! yep. that's definitely it. no need to question who else was around when you said that further.
the cram school gang at first only peripherally knows yukio's twin brother. he can see demons, but he's not interested in becoming an exorcist... until he is. he joins the class after their exwire exam, with little in the way of explanation.
once rin shows up, they see rinka a lot less.
(it will take them awhile to connect the dots.)
shiro still has kurikara. he never used it, but he also never gave it back. he gives it to rin as camouflage once he joins the cram school. you obviously can't use your flames, kid.
ryuuji: do you have a demon in that sword or something?
rin: uh. yeah! it's a... fire demon?
ryuuji: huh. what demon?
rin sweats. he's a literal fire demon himself, but he has just forgotten the name of every other fire demon in existence. fuck.
(shiro is trying not to laugh in the background.)
the first person to notice something amiss is ryuuji, actually. rin goes missing during the impure king incident. they figure he probably got roped into helping the main exorcism force, but shima, yukio, and konekomaru say they didn't see him there anywhere.
which is weird. rin's not the type to run and hide from a fight, ryuuji knows that much.
he doesn't dwell much on it in the moment, though. not when he has to deal with his only source of protection as he casts the fire barrier being the son of satan. this is not a position he wants to be in.
(shiro's a little busy dealing with todo)
...except. he has to admit. said son of satan basically saved all of their asses. he disappears right afterwards, but not before ryuuji sees something fall out of his pocket. when he goes to pick it up, he's confused.
this is rin's bracelet. the one he always wears. why does rinka have it?
(rinka meanwhile is freaking out. where the fuck is his bracelet. he can't look human without that. luckily, shiro has a spare so the crisis is averted... for the moment.)
shima: okay. now that we're out of danger, there's something i've been wanting to say this whole time.
ryuuji: what?
shima: did it look like rinka had just rolled out of bed to anyone else?
(they all think about it. actually. yeah. he kind of did. heh.)
rin, glaring at one of his t-shirts: have they seen rinka wear this. i need to start separating these damn things.
rinka: samael can you let me time travel back into the past so i can yell at myself for not studying math.
mephisto: no. deal with the consequences of your own actions.
rinka: you suck
rinka is fiddling with his phone. shiro looks over. he's googling 'how do you make friends'.
rin's cover story is that he was sickly as a child, and so was his mother. she didn't have the ability to raise yukio, so she gave him to shiro. rin moved in with them after her death, and after he got better.
yukio: nii-san can I call you back. i'm busy seeing the horrors.
rin: (<---is the horrors)
still rotating this blue exorcist AU idea from two nights ago, so I figure I might as well talk about it! the basic idea of the AU started with "what if Yukio was raised relatively in the dark about his origins, but Rin wasn't" and it sort of just snowballed from there, as things do.
on the night of his birth, rin's demon heart is never sealed. yuri calms him down all on her own, despite all of her own struggles that night. she survives childbirth, and pleads that she'll raise rin herself, so that he won't harm others.
(shiemihaza looks in her eyes, and this time, she agrees)
once it's confirmed that yukio is human, and has not inherited satan's flames, shiro agrees to raise him for yuri and give him a normal life. he keeps yukio's origins a secret from him, only vaguely alluding to the fact that he has an older twin brother who lives with their mother.
yuri and rin are confined at the Vatican, not allowed to leave the room they are given. yuri survived, but the traumatic pregnancy followed by the even more traumatic childbirth has clearly taken its toll on her. she is much weaker, and no one expect her to live long.
she ends up living for eight more years anyways on pure determination alone.
she raises rin carefully, teaching him how to control his flames and his strength. how to be kind to others, even if they aren't kind to him. rin grows up with a mother who is physically frail, so he learns to be gentle because he doesn't want to hurt her.
shiro becomes paladin. he visits yuri whenever he can- and at first, he's really just here for her. he still thinks she's crazy for thinking she can tame her demon son, considering what happened with satan. but eventually, he comes to understand that rin isn't his father.
(yuri learns from her mistakes. she doesn't repeat them with rin.)
yuri's health takes a turn for the worse in the twins' seventh year. she passes away after their eighth birthday. there's mutters in the Vatican about finally getting rid of satan's spawn.
shiro is not going to let that happen, so warily takes some advice from Mephisto. he doesn't trust him one bit, confident he's playing at some kind of long game, but he promised yuri he'd protect both of her children, and he intends to do just that.
he ends up making rin his familiar.
(he holds rin's hands and makes him promise that he'll never use his flames on humans, unless its an absolute emergency. the boy's spiral eyes are just like his father's as he looks at him, but the person behind them couldn't be less like his father if he tried. rin promises.)
for the first time since he was born, rin leaves the room he was confined in for so long. he's going to finally meet his little brother that he's heard so much about.
he has to wear a weird, itchy bracelet to do it, though. it's supposed to make him look completely human to even people who have a mashou. mephisto made it.
(it's a rosary, because mephisto is determined to be an ironic little shithead at all times.)
his mom named him rinka. when he goes to live among humans, shiro gives him the name okumura rin.
fujimoto yukio meets his twin brother for the first time when he's eight years old. he's a strange kid, and it takes him awhile to get used to his presence at the monastery. there's something almost... disquieting about him, but that feeling fades over time.
rin doesn't go to school. everyone agrees that's probably a terrible idea. yuri taught him how to read and write. shiro tries to teach him the other subjects, but rin's not very interested.
(he is interested in cooking, though. lifehack: teach the demon kid you are now raising how to do math via cooking.)
rin keeps his bracelet on at all times around the monastery. he only takes it off when shiro needs rinka.
yukio does not grow up seeing demons. he has been blind in his left eye since birth- but that all changes after an encounter with a demon right before he moves into the true cross dorms. he doesn't remember much of what happened. all he knows is that rin saved him.
he learns demons are real, and that his father is an exorcist. and that rin has known about this all along, because he's been able to see demons his whole life. shiro grits his teeth, and decides to enroll yukio in cram school, with apologies to yuri.
(he has a bad feeling that yukio's encounter with that demon wasn't simply chance. the demon sight that mephisto sealed away is back- and with it, the vision in yukio's left eye.)
shiro doesn't tell yukio about his origins, nor that of his brother's. most of the exorcist world has forgotten that yuri egin ever had twins. only a few choice people who lived through that event are aware of this fact. there's only one son of Satan, and he is the paladin's familiar now. that's common knowledge.
mephisto: hm. I have a good idea. let's enroll rin at true cross academy as well!
rin, who has never gone to school in his life: i'm sorry what.
mephisto: you'll be able to protect your brother that way!
(shiro watches yukio at cram school. rin watches him at regular school. but also at cram school, because he's there too as shiro's familiar rinka. yukio just doesn't know that part.)
(at least he finally gets an excuse to wear that cool mask he bought that covers the lower half of his face. otherwise yukio would 100% recognize him. and he very much does not want that. he'd like to stay human in yukio's eyes for at least a little longer.)
#local half-demon way more attached to this cram school class than any other#the cram school gang trying to listen to one of shiro's lectures but they're distracted because rinka is sitting in the back of the class#...and watching videos on his phone? why does the son of satan have a phone?#white phosphorus au
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