#the only thing holding back from getting the tea is having to serve tea too

[as-i-watch]

Its hilarious that Chilchuck is just dying to know what Senshi's deal is

But absolutely refuses to give a single crumb of personal information in exchange

[pomefioredove]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ snuggles for hire

summary: first years try helping you out with your touch-starved problem type of post: short fics (blurbs?) characters: leona, floyd, jade, vil additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu

"Really? That's it?" Ace scoffs.

"So, they haven't been hugged in a while. Okay? Neither has Deuce,"

Deuce glares. It's almost menacing. "That's not true, and you know it! I get lots of hugs every time I visit home!"

"I do, too. But that's just the thing, though, ain't it?" Epel says. "They don't have no home to get hugs from."

The huddle of first years goes quiet. Some days, you become such a part of their world, they forget you're really not from it.

"...Okay, point taken," Ace sighs. "But they have Grim! And he only stinks like, half the time!"

"If memory serves, Grim usually sleeps on the floor..." Epel says. "Poor prefect, all lonely. Now even their sleep is suffering 'cause of it!"

Jack rubs the back of his neck. "It must be tough, not having anything to look forward to,"

Another melancholy silence. Finally, Ace stands, hands on his hips.

"Well, let's do something about it, then. There are tons of boys at this school- one of them should be willing to help,"

It's eight in the morning after another disappointing attempt at rest, and now you can't even sleep in. Damn visitors.

You throw open the front door.

"What? What could you possibly- wh- Leona?"

The housewarden smirks. He looks a little too proud of himself for this early in the morning...

"A little wolfie told me you weren't sleeping well. Lucky for you, that's my specialty. Now, are you gonna let me in, or what?"

He doesn't wait for an answer, letting himself in and making himself comfortable on the couch in the foyer.

He pats the spot next to him.

"Listen..." you say. "I don't know what you heard, but I'm fine."

"Don't be proud. I don't pity you, I just... owe you. Now get your butt over here, yeah?"

Leona isn't so scary when he's asleep. He's more like... the world's largest pillow. Of course, you're at risk of being smothered until you crawl into a better position, but once you're on top, he's surprisingly warm and comfortable.

You can tell you're being watched before you hear anything.

And you think you might just know wh-

"Shrimpyyy!"

For two boys so tall, the tweels are awfully quiet. Especially when it comes to "surprising" you in random places. This time: the hall.

Floyd pulls you into a bone-crushing hug while Jade watches from behind, smiling subtly.

When he finally lets you down, you're dizzy. (Though, at this point, you'll take whatever physical touch you can get).

"Shrimpyyy, why didn't you tell us you were lonely? We had to squeeze it outta Spade," Floyd pouts.

"His face makes fascinating expressions when he's afraid," Jade says, merrily.

Before you can answer, Floyd's already got you under his arm (seriously? Where do they find the strength?) and is heading straight towards the hall of mirrors.

You already know there's no getting out of this one...

Floyd is, unsurprisingly, all over, from leaning his whole body weight against you to lying across your lap, to biting your shoulder (in his sleep...?) Oh, and he drools, too.

Jade sits on your other side, one hand holding yours, the other leafing through an almanac from twenty years ago.

You're almost hesitant to admit just how nice it really is.

"And nothing else has worked?" Vil says, throwing open the door to your bedroom with no regard for a "hello" or, "how are you?"

You blink. "...Hello to you, too. May I ask what you're talking about?"

He storms inside, standing over you with his hands on his hips.

"Just that I overheard Epel Felmier asking my vice housewarden if he would be willing to satisfy your need for physical affection. You've been struggling? With sleep? And you didn't think to come to me, first?"

He almost sounds... offended that you didn't.

"...Well... I wasn't making a big deal about it,"

"So, no teas, no vitamins, no pills- nothing has helped?"

You shake your head. He sighs.

"Perhaps it is purely psychological... very well. Get up. I hope you don't toss and turn much, I'm a light sleeper,"

Vil is completely still when he sleeps. No tossing, no turning, no drooling, no snoring. He also insists on sleeping on his back, you, clinging to his side, and a single arm around you. Just as elegant as when he's awake. He'd be a true sleeping beauty if not for the mumbles of nonsense that come from him every few minutes. You swear you can make out your own name, once or twice or three times...

He is warm nonetheless, and his mumbles and idle stroking of his fingers on your waist is enough to satisfy you for a night of good sleep.

[hyunniesgirl]

Trophy Husband

Just a little something I wrote for Changbin

This content is +18 only, minors do NOT interact

You never found it particularly interesting to be a housewife, there's nothing wrong with being one, it's just that that is not your cup of tea.

That's why you spent years of your life hearing your family nagging you about a husband and children but you just brushed it off until you reached your goal: being successful.

When it finally happened, after years of you working your ass off it was natural for you to want to take the next step. So it's time to arrange the family you've been putting on hold for so many years.

You have wasted your time on more than ten dates, every man you met wanted the same thing: a pretty wife to be a stay at home mom. Even though they all told you they had no problem with you keeping your job, you have a lot of problems with working outside and then having to come back home to work in the house too.

So you changed your matches. Other than successful men, you started focusing on young men that didn't have long-term plans for their career, landing on the perfect partner: Seo Changbin.

He's a model, that's good, he doesn't have a fixed work schedule. He's handsome, so your children will be good looking too. He's funny and sexy, just the way you like it.

You propose to him by your second month of dating, taking him by surprise and promising you'll take care of him forever. He just has to be pretty and work hard to make your happy little family happen, you want at least two kids, after all.

You didn't actually have to ask him to work hard on that, as it is his pleasure to bend you over your desk in the middle of the day while you work from home. Changbin thrusts into you so deeply you can feel the head of his cock poking your cervix. He's making sure his seed is going to make its way safely to where you need it.

He fucks you when you wake up, lazily dragging his cock to your entrance, moving his hips slowly at a pace that would kill your impatient self if you weren't so dizzy from the slumber you just got out of. He fucks you in between meetings, making sure you are well motivated for the next few hours. He fucks you on the kitchen after the dinner is served, putting you on the table and eating you out before fucking you again. He fucks you before sleep too, pulling you by your ankles and positioning himself in between your legs, filling you up with his cock, thrusting so hard you think he could break your hips.

He'll make you stay still, legs up, for at least ten minutes before landing a kiss on the top of your head, saying you did a good job and that you should sleep now.

It doesn't take much of this routine for you to get pregnant. You go to the events at the company you work for, showing off your husband in a tight suit and the bump in your belly growing slowly. You're the happiest right now with your little family. You have the perfect husband by your side and soon you'll have your child in your arms too.

[happy74827]

Can you make more Joe Goldberg? You did such aan amazing job on the first one that I NEED a second one. Just please consider. Thank. Love your fics btw 💖💖💖

Lily of the Valley

[Joe Goldberg x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Coffee might not be his favorite, but things can change when it involves a person like you.

WC: 659

Category: Fluff

Fortunately, I already had this small idea in mind for our lovely stalker man and this request really just put the icing on top of the cake. Hopefully it fulfills your needs 🙌 (also you’re too sweet… thank you so much for the kind words 💞)

『••✎••』

Coffee. The hard, hot, and bitter drink that is the reason many people get out of bed each day and the reason why some people stay up until the early hours of the morning. He never understood the appeal.

But that didn't mean he didn't enjoy the smell of coffee beans roasting, the smell of fresh ground beans being poured into a filter, and the smell of the finished product. He didn't understand how something so bitter and disgusting could have such a calming and comforting smell.

Joe had been sitting in a booth in a coffee shop for the past few hours, watching the world outside go by, sipping a small mug of tea, and his current read, "The Woman In The Window" by A.J Finn, in front of him. His eyes were trained on the people going by, not really taking much of anything in. He was on autopilot, a default setting he slipped into whenever his mind was full of something else.

It was only when a waitress with a short, black pixie cut walked over to his table that his eyes come back into focus, and his thoughts began to slow down. She didn't look like she belonged in a coffee shop. With a long, floral dress, combat boots, and a cardigan, she was far too pretty and too interesting to be serving lattes. She was a rose in a garden full of daisies, a peacock among chickens.

Then, like a snap to reality, the sound of his name pulled him away from her and onto… you. The whole reason he was here in the first place.

If he thought the waitress was a rose, you were a whole bouquet.

"Jonathan! Are you going to order anything, or are you just going to keep sitting there, scaring all our other employees?" You said a laugh in your voice.

He hadn't even noticed the waitress had already left, and now, you were standing by the table, holding a coffee pot.

Yeah, he needs to stop letting his thoughts take over.

"No, no, I was just, uh, reading."

"Reading a book, or reading her?" You said, cocking your head to the side, indicating the waitress who had moved on to another table.

"Reading the book."

"Mhm, sure." You said, not at all convinced. God, he just wanted to kiss the smirk off your face. Those pretty lipstick-covered lips moving against his.

You shook your head, smiling.

"You want a muffin… or something? On the house, since you're a regular and all."

He looked down at the book again, then back up at you. Unlike the waitress, you were dressed for work in a black, collared shirt tucked into black pants and a black apron tied around your waist.

It told him a lot about you, like the fact that you were a rule follower organized. The other waitress played confidence to stand out. You wanted to blend in, but still, he noticed.

How could he not notice you?

"Sure."

"Blueberry, right? Your usual."

"Yeah."

"Okay. I'll be back in a second."

You had just turned to leave before you spun on your heel and stopped.

"And, Jonathan,” you paused. "That book in your hands? Wonderful read."

As you walked away, he realized how his heart had started to beat faster, and he couldn't stop the grin on his face.

A bouquet? No, you were something far more rare and far more beautiful than that.

You were an orchid.

And when you returned with that perfectly shaped muffin and that award-winning smile, Joe decided this would be the last time he ever chased a woman. Because this one?

You?

It was as though you were a mix between all his past loves and yet someone entirely new.

You were that new orchid in the greenhouse, the lily of the valley, and he wanted to nurture you and make you grow.

It's time to stop blending in; he would bring you out to bloom.

[rileyglas]

Hello! Can I request Alastor x Fem!Trust Issues!Reader? I've seen quite a few fanfictions and requests where Readers were wary of Alastor, but strangely quickly began to trust him. Therefore, it seemed to me that it would be funny to see a Reader who is so distrustful of people in principle that with Alastor’s reputation this distrust reaches the point of absurdity. And when Alastor really sincerely wants to gain the Reader's trust (romantically or platonically, it doesn't matter), then it becomes a really difficult task. For example, he offers help with some little thing and the Reader immediately “what do you want from me.” Or when Alastor brings the Reader tea/coffee, she waits for him to drink first (she would probably insist that he pour it from the same ?teapot?). The other residents of the Hotel find this hilarious.

This is such a fun prompt, especially under the assumption Alastor loves nothing more than a good chase during a hunt. 😉

Like Glass (Alastor x Fem!TrustIssues!Reader)

Four months. That’s how long it took for you to finally take Charlie up on her offer of the possibility of redemption. The chance to get to Heaven seemed like a pipe dream but after a few very long talks and persuasions, you now held a key to your own room in the hotel. 

You try to keep to yourself and most seem to respect that. You’re left alone unless something is needed for one of Charlie’s exercises. You even specifically requested that Nifty didn’t bother coming to your room to clean. The less people in your space the better. 

Charlie has such a big heart but that leads to her choosing to trust even the most despicable characters. She has even trusted and allowed the Radio Demon to live under the same roof. You’ve heard all the stories, all the theories of why he was really there under the ruse of “helping” her. You didn’t buy it one bit. 

Just the other day you were trying to hang some banners the crew had made during an activity. Your ladder was rickety but unfortunately it was the only way to reach the beams. Pained grunts filled the room from you trying to stand on your tiptoes while maintaining some sense of balance. “Allow me to help, dear. Would hate to see you fall.” A staticky voice called from below you. “No thank you - I….am almost…done - shit!” the ladder shifted and almost threw you off. Alastor stabilized it with ease. “See, it is a good thing I’m here!” he yelled smugly. At this point you would rather fall than allow him to hold your life in his hands. “You’re a busy man Alastor. Hey Husk? Mind helping -”

“Nope, looks like Al has it covered.” he teased from behind the bar, relishing in your uneasy tone. You shot daggers, both angry and begging for the cat to just help you instead of Alastor. You made the last tie in the banner and swiftly came down to more solid ground. “Thanks I guess. I had it though.” you said through gritted teeth, avoiding making eye contact and rushing out of the room. Had you looked back you would have seen Husk laughing at how irate Alastor suddenly became.

Now tonight, Nifty was kind enough to serve everyone one of her more popular dinners. It was a simple dish yet as usual, you waited for everyone to nearly clear their plates before digging into it yourself. You might have been starving but you could never be too careful. We are all in Hell for a reason. Could anyone be truly trusted?

“My dear, dig in! Before it gets cold!” Alastor’s voice chirped from across the table. You glare at the toothy grinned demon, “I just like to ensure everyone is enjoying before digging in myself. Appreciate the concern though.” You try to seem pleasant but your voice always seems to drip with disdain when speaking to him, “Why are you so worried? Did you help in preparing the meal?” 

He chuckles, “I try to keep out of the kitchen when Nifty cooks but she did require a few extra hands -” You involuntarily choke and spit out the bite you had just taken. Angel and Husk also choke though it’s to hold back laughter. You sneer at their amusement. Alastor’s face twists with confusion, “Is everything alright?” “Oh uhm I’m suddenly not that hungry. Must be coming down with something. Excuse me.” You excuse yourself from the table and make your way to the library. Reading was always something that could busy your mind and right now you needed a distraction from both your growling stomach and Alastor’s attempt to help once again. He’d been making an uncomfortable effort to help you in any way he could and in your mind, that could only mean he wanted something from you.

Not many residents used the hotel library which was great for you. But of course, there was always someone who enjoyed breaking your solitude. The sound of footsteps pulls your eyes off your current page, “What do I owe the visit?” you snap over your book. 

Alastor strides over with a serving tray carrying a tea set. “Well I saw just how horrible you looked at dinner and figured some peppermint tea might help whatever ailment you’re suffering from.” He sets the tray on the table in front of you but you don’t move a muscle. “Since when do you care if someone isn’t feeling well?” you cock an eyebrow at him. 

He hums as he pours two cups of tea, taking one for himself and offering you the other, “What? Can I not offer a fellow resident a nice cup of tea?” “Nope. What do you want?” you continue to stare at the cup in his hand. His eye twitches, trying to hold back his annoyance, “Why do you insist on rejecting any of my pleasantries?”

You slam your book closed, “You’re wondering why I do not want help of any sort from one of Hell’s most vile Overlords?” He sets down your cup and sits across from you. You didn’t want company but it's too late now. “Ms. Morningstar trusts me with ensuring the safety of this hotel yet you cannot even take a cup of tea you’ve watched me both pour and drink myself. Other than what stories you’ve heard, what have I done to you to make you so cold towards me?” His eyes burn into you, eager for an answer. Although with his tone, you could only assume he knew exactly why you didn’t trust him. 

You sigh as you pick up the cup he offered. You swirl it in an attempt to examine if it looks or smells odd before hesitantly taking a small sip for yourself. “Have you ever been betrayed Alastor? By a friend? By someone you loved? Because I have. It’s how I died and how I ended up here.” 

His smile falters slightly, corners curving down before returning to their usual wide grin, “Trust is like glass, once broken it isn’t easy to fix nor will ever be the same. I admire how guarded you try to be.”

You scoff, “If it is so admirable then why bother trying so hard to earn my trust? Unless it just kills your ego that someone can see you for who you truly are -” The cup he holds suddenly shatters under his tightening grip, “Watch your tone, dear. I’ve been nothing but amicable with you. I expect the same in return.” his voice drops with static filling the air. You can’t help but smirk at how quickly you’ve managed to get under his skin. “Ooooh so it is an ego thing? Duly noted.” you bite and finish off your cup. As you stand you see Alastor’s eyes shift to black dials, his mind clearly spiraling. On your way to the door you brush a teasing hand across his shoulder, “Tea was wonderful by the way. I’m feeling better already!” Your coy laughter echoes through the library as you leave but the sounds of Alastor’s demon form drown it out. He snarls over his shoulder to you, “Don’t act so smug darling. I’ll get you to trust me one day.”

“Good luck!” You chirp walking out the door, unaware of the challenge you just put into place for the Radio Demon.  He was going to have you one way or another. It was only a matter of time and patience, two things he had plenty of when it came to getting what he wanted. You.

[nepenthendline]

take my hand - neuvillette x reader

a/n: just some sappy soft slow dancing with neuvillette, implied fem reader, hydro dragon being adorable and teaching you to dance

I might do a part 2 for this!

In the last few months, you've tended to find yourself in events like this: the yearly grand ball held for Hydro Archon's birthday. In true Furina style, she goes all out each year, hosting the most magnificent, yet, overwhelming, events with every important figure and name in Fontaine.

Being assistant to the Iudex alone wouldn't normally get you an invite to such event (unless Furina is running low on numbers), but as partner of Neuvillette himself, and a close friend to Furina because of said partnership, you're considered a 'must-have' at these parties.

It's easy to feel like a face in the crowd, a nobody, at these events when you're surrounded by wealthy stuck-up diplomats or CEOs wearing only the most expensive designer gowns and suits, or how you have no idea what they're talking about half the time. The hall is loud, crowded, and slightly too shiny for your liking, but you have to stay until the night is over.

There is one thing keeping you here, though: the presence of Neuvillette. You stand at the edge of the hall, glass in hand of whatever fruity drink the bulters are serving, eyes locked on the Chief Justice as he weaves through the crowd to engage in pleasantries with the guests. Whilst you wish he could stay by your side all night, you understand he has duties to fulfil, and getting to watch his tall figure, dressed to the nines, dart around is compensation enough. Picking Neuvillette out from the crowd is never hard - he doesn't exactly blend in with everyone else with his long, icy hair and that blue glow of his, not to mention the sheer weight of his authority.

Your smile grows into a grin as you notice his steps being directed towards you. You have to hold back a giggle as you watch the guests in front of him, that are blocking his path to you, profusely apologise and move aside, not wanting to get on the wrong side of the Iudex.

'I apologise for having to leave your side for this long, you know how Furina acts when it comes to these events,' he says before cupping your cheek with his gloved hand and kissing your head, 'but I'm all yours for the rest of the night'.

'It's ok, it's your job, and besides, I don't mind watching you,' you shrug off his concerns and retort in a teasing manner. His raises one eyebrow at you before letting out a deep, quiet chuckle.

'I see, well I hope I put on a good show for you my dear,' you nod and giggle at his remark, 'even so, these sorts of things aren't exactly my cup of tea either. I prefer to observe humans...from a distance,' he adds, which you know is his polite way of saying he can't stand having to engage in small talk with so many enthusiastic people at once. 'What do you have to drink?' He asks, looking down to your glass of brightly coloured bubbly liquid, whilst brushing his knuckles over your arm as a form of comforting affection. You look into your, still mostly full, glass and wrinkle your nose slightly.

'Couldn't tell you, but you certainly wouldn't like it,' you answer, placing the glass on the tall table next to you. His mouth opens, ready to say something, when the band changes to a new song - one that is slower and gentler than before. It's one you recognised since Neuvillette played it in his office from time to time. Your thoughts are broken when he holds his hand out to you and speaks,

'Would you like to dance?' He asks, almost hesitantly, with his lips curled into a sweet smile. Your hand reaches for his but stops halfway as you look between him and the dozens of dancing couples behind you.

'I don't know how to dance...like that,' you shyly admit, gesturing to the elegantly swaying guests behind him with your head. His smile grows sweeter as his lifts his hand to reach where yours hovered, taking it in his light grasp and pressing a kiss to your knuckles,

'Then let me guide you, my love,' he walks towards the dancefloor with you in tow, finding a less crowded spot before turning to face you once again. Looking around you, you could see how all the other women were situated - one hand on their dance-partners shoulder and the other clasped with theirs. You looked back at Neuvillette and moved your own hands to match. He gave you a small nod before putting his free hand around your waist and pulling you closer. 'Good, that's correct,' he praises, 'I will lead, and you can follow my steps. Let me count for us to make it easier. 1, 2, 3, 1, 2, 3,' he continues counting in a hushed tone as he moves slowly - first taking a step forward, then to the side, and then back. You kept your eyes focused on the floor and what you could see of your feet under your ball gown. Luckily, the steps were slow enough that you could react, taking your own steps to follow him in turn.

'Ah,' he interrupts his conducting before taking the hand from your waist away and placing a finger under your chin, gently lifting your head until your eyes were locked with his, 'keep your eyes on mine,' he directed, but the words and the intensity of his gaze made you want to bow your head immediately again. He let out a huff of a chuckle, returning his hand to your waist and pulling you closer, closing any gap between you two so you couldn't look at the floor. With this move, you had no choice but to keep your focus on his eyes. Even despite being together for a few months now, holding eye contact like this still made you nervous - you felt like a lovestruck teenager put on a spotlight against his gaze. Your cheeks grew warmer, and you couldn't help the bashful look on your face.

'I'm not used to this,' you whined, 'go easy on me,' although your tone suggested you didn't mean any worry.

'That is true, although having you look at me is for more selfish desires, I must admit.' He confessed. If anyone else said such a phrase, you would believe they were teasing, and yet his words felt so pure.

Maybe it was the reflection of the many chandeliers or the glittery dresses around you, but his eyes seemed to shine more than usual. You often liked to admire Neuvillette's features, but more so when he was unaware of your lingering glances (or so you thought). His featured looked so soft, so ethereal in the glistening light - your eyes roamed his face, and occasionally, the scenery around you. However, his never left yours once. Neuvillette is known for his status and commanding authority, and yet, right now, he had never looked so gentle.

The hand on his shoulder moved further in, brushing against the hair near his neck. You only realised he had stopped counting a while ago when he let out a quiet, satisfied hum.

'Seems you're a natural,' he commented, making your cheeks flush even hotter.

'Oh,' your head falls to look at his chest instead in embarrassment, 'I don't know about that. Maybe you're just a good teacher,' you return.

'Perhaps,' he says, although it doesn't sound like a genuine consideration at all. You shake your head gently, as if trying to wash away your discomposure, then returned your eyes to his waiting pair.

Despite your worries, you couldn't help but feel yourself sink into his hold and let go a little further whilst looking at him - it was like you were the only two in the room right now; you could barely even concentrate on the music. You let out a deep breath and smiled at him, and he smiled back, smitten.

He leaned down slightly and shortened his steps so that he could rest his forehead against yours. Your noses occasionally brushed against each other as you swayed in tandem.

'I like this,' you murmured, as if it was some guilty pleasure. The curve of his lips grew wider as he nodded slightly,

'I like this too.'

[sleepymccoy]

I have some general anxiety about going to supermarkets aimed at specific cultures because the intended clientele is not lil white me and the staff often don't speak english and I feel inappropriate. But not once has this been true, and I've always enjoyed my visit. Anyway, that's a preface so you can appreciate how brave I am

My colleague recently made me lahpet which is a Burmese salad including pickled tea leaves, dried beans mix, and tomatoes. I loved it and wanted more. I live in a densely Chinese area and thought one of the many supermarkets might have something Burmese, so I brought the empty jar to every store.

Many don't speak english, but that's fine. I had a jar! All interactions basically went like this;

None of them knew Burmese so couldn't even tell me if they had something similar

I gave up and bought it online. Also had a hard time with that cos they don't deliver to apartments (got the vibe that it's just the shop owners son doing deliveries and he couldn't be fucked going upstairs. Valid). But I persevered and got three jars! And the dried beans mix I needed. Way too many dried beans, I totally misjudged the size of the bag being sold

I used one to show my friends this salad. They didn't go as insane over it as I did. I gave another jar to my dad who did go appropriately insane. He said he liked it, then five min later interrupted to say he really liked it, then after dinner spent time with me going through the ingredients and trying to figure out if he can pickle tea leaves himself. Booyah.

Regardless, this left me with one jar which I swiftly finished. So I'm on the hunt again and the online store stresses me out now cos they don't like apartments

I found a Burmese supermarket a few suburbs away and a twenty min walk from the station. Fucking worth it, it's added two hours to my commute home but I want these jars so much. I enjoyed the stroll. It rained a bit, so I saw a couple rainbows

In the store I was, again, immediately stressed. I went down an aisle and back again and found nothing. I found other pickled things! But not my tea leaves! I did not want this trip to be in vain, it was long and I had a shit day at work. I was really only doing it today cos the days a write off as a bad day so I may as well run an annoying errand

Anyway I pulled up the website and showed the lady at the counter a photo of the jar and she pointed me to them immediately. I returned like fifteen seconds later with four jars and she was already on a phone call with someone. I love workers rights. You're awesome, lady.

So I say four and hold four fingers up and pass her one jar. She scans and sets the price right. She then interrupts whoever's talking on the phone to ask me, "How you know this?"

So I quickly explained that my colleague made me the salad and I loved it. She pointed back at the aisle and said, "the beans, you need beans." So I was like "I have so many beans, I bought too many, I just need the pickled leaves." And she was already waving her hand at me in disinterest so I stopped talking and paid lol.

It was a long haul home. I passed and remember to take a photo of my favourite art installation, the tower of coffee cups in a pole.

There's no starbucks in my suburb so one of these at least has taken a long trip to get here. So did I today, my feet are sore

Anyway, I have four jars of miraculous pickled tea leaves. If you can figure out how to buy these ingredients I recommend it to serve alongside very fatty meals like lasagne or sausage cos it cuts through nicely. I also take a serving to work every day because the tea leaves are caffeinated so I'm skipping the second coffee

I love lahpet

[allfearstofallto]

What would Yuri (your yandere bulter OC) do if his lady had an arranged marriege and was meeting the person she was arranged to marry with?

(Y'all make me so happy I could die!! I've been unironically imagining this scenerio for months!!!)

Yandere! Male OC x Reader

“You're much too young to be wed,” Yuri whined softly as his cold finger tips helped you latch the clip of your necklace. A beautiful, pink gem nestled in the center of the neckware drew attention to your bare collar bone, the radiant skin of your chest, and the lovely smile you had just above it. Yet another piece of jewelry your mother had sent you from her travels, she had such a taste for things you liked, despite hardly being around.

You merely scoffed at his words, rolling your eyes in the tandum. While he tied your hair up, you dusted yourself with perfumed powder, staring at yourself the entire time, “You must be insane, Yuri. I'm actually past the average marrying age.”

That much was true. Girls of your status typically married much much younger, usually right after coming of age. Even you yourself received many letters begging for a chance to meet after your debutante, which Yuri would swiftly burn in your fire place when you expressed your distate. You had things holding you back. You longed for schooling, travel, and a the freedom of being young and not tied down. Both your father and Yuri took this news excitedly and never pushed for you to get wed. They both even excitedly told you that you'd never have to leave the manor and if you so pleased, you'd be pampered for the rest of your life.

It sounded nice in theory, living off of your fathers wealth and being a bachelorette until the day you died, but many women at your tea parties were talking about their prospects, fiances, and even their husbands, and suddenly you felt as if you could no longer relate anymore. And the even more harsh realization hit you, that you were lonely. You'd sit quietly at the table, sipping your tea nervously and realizing that maybe it was time for you to begin viewing romance in a different light, not as a hindrance chaining you down, but a new beginning in life.

Your father was expectedly saddened by your announcement and Yuri…well, Yuri’s expression was hard to read. He stood silently for a bit, his lips formed in a tight line, eyebrows starting to furrow a bit behind his thick, round glasses. It was a face you'd never seen him make before, him typically preferring laid back or soft expression.

“You can't actually be serious, my lady,” Yuri forced himself to not sound more hurt than he actually was, but if you listened closely, you could hear his voice tremble, “You always said you'd stay in the manor forever.”

You glanced at yourself once over again in your full body mirror, feeling shy and almost slightly over dressed in the gown you chose. It was such a strange feeling, the way your heart was thumping in your chest, and you couldn't tell if it was excitement or nerves. You could see Yuri behind you in your reflection, a frown still formed on his lips.

“I said that when I was eight! You can't trust the words of a child,”

Yuri sighed again, pushing his snow, white hair out of his face in a sign of stress. A stress reflex that you seldom saw him do. Yuri was a man that was so calm and composed, yet today he was showing so much anxiety. And for what, you'd didn't know.

“Then what of me? This man you're meeting, he's the Duke two cities over. I am here to serve you, my lady, won't I go with you?”

“I'd hate to uproot your life, Yuri,” you began with a sad tone. You couldn't fathom the idea that he could look any sadder, yet as you spoke, his face fell even farther, “B-but mother will be home shortly! She sent a letter saying that it will only be a few more weeks, you could still stay in the manor and tend to her instead.”

Your suggestion is met with a shallow, solemn shake of his head, “You are my life, my lady. I wish to serve no one else.”

[itsabouttimex2]

you’ve dragged me into the LEGO monkey kid fandom

so I was wondering macaque with a healer kid? If that’s not too much

I’m very sorry but I love your writing

Little Healer Headcanons

Macaque and Ne Zha

(I always love hearing that I got someone into Monkie Kid- it’s one of the things that makes me happiest to read!)

You spend a lot of your time patching this guy up- by design. Since Macaque has an adorable little friend to mend his injuries, why should he temper his powers? The sable simian never bothers to hold back in the slightest.

Macaque goes out of his way to go overboard, knowing that his dear white mage will be there for him with a stave and a worried frown.

Unfortunately for him, it seems to be that you have a longer line of clients and customers than ever before- not that it’s really a surprise.

Someone was on the other side of all those fights he was winning, after all~

And he’s willing to leave a few more bruises if the crowd can’t part for him fast enough- after all, Macaque will always be first in line to receive your services.

And sure, maybe he’ll ignore your squawking and protesting when he forces you to shut down the itty-bitty clinic (probably just an unlicensed street stall) early to get in a good snuggle, “repaying the favor” by tossing you over his shoulder and heading home so he can coddle you like his own child.

He’ll force you to take breaks by jamming stolen handheld consoles into your hands, setting you up with slow turn-based games and decoration simulators to slowly lull you into a cozy sleep- all while resting your head in his lap, of course- he’s gotta get that fatherly skinship in.

Plies you with healthy snacks and fruit-infused water made to keep one’s energy and health up, ensuring that you’ll always be at the top of your game- but only for him, of course!

If you ever do come around to calling him “dad”, he’s going to be over the moon- in his own subtle way.

He’ll sneak into your room late at night, Rumble and Savage casing the perimeter, and… press a soft kiss to your forehead, snap a little tracker-embedded bracelet around your wrist…

And then drag you off the bed and take you home for good.

Oh, he loves you so, so much.

Assuming that you, as a healer, fall into the “white-hearted healing cutie” stereotype, then you are Ne Zha’s de-facto favorite person.

He finally has someone who stays out of trouble and does as told? He finally has someone who listens to his commands and acts when told to act? Someone loyal and sweet and obedient?

Perfect.

“As always,” he says frequently, one hand on your head, “I am proud of your efforts to serve our realm.”

“Thank you,” is your return, polite and curt. It earns you another head pat, though Ne Zha is always careful not to muss your hair.

“Very good. I’ll send in the next soldier.”

This is the life he’s built for you, safe and slow and useful.

And with him by your side the days drift and bleed, every moment of your time micromanaged and utilized.

It’s rare to get a break unless you work yourself to the point of sickness, at which point he’ll tuck you in with a mug of hot tea and a small basket of fruit on the bedside and “Maybe a bowl of those noodles from that mortal store you like, if you behave yourself, Y/N.”

He tries to be sweet and gentle, but Ne Zha still has a temper and is still very stressed out by the stunts of the Monkie Kids- it’s not impossible that he’ll snap and take his anger out on you.

And though this is pretty much the literal worst thing he’d ever do to you (aside from MAYBE a very mild flogging given the Celestial Realm practices that in the novel? It doesn’t fit with his character at all to any degree so I’m split. He seems more like a non-physical lecturer) it still hurts like hell to work so hard and be so good and still get punished for something that wasn’t even your fault.

And Ne Zha feels like trash afterwards but is too proud too apologize, and regardless is too worried that he’d lose his control over you if he treated you like an equal and outright said “sorry”, so he just takes a trip to the mortal realm and buys you something hot and fried.

He’ll wrap the grease-stained paper in a cloth sack to prevent any confused stares that might arise in the Celestial Realm, and book the horrid food down to your room.

Though the quality leaves quite a bit to be desired, and the healthy value makes him want to scream and slap the burger from your hands…

You’ve stopped sniffling.

And that’s enough for him

[linalaine]

Stay Still !

Scaramouche x Reader Smut

🪼🌸cw: cockwarming Scara, afab reader, use of cunt/pussy, praise??, slight spanking.

sirry for not posting much !! i have no ideas abt what to write I just forced myself to write at least something since it’s been a while :’)

If there was one thing Scara loved doing before bed each night, it was relaxing on the couch, reading a book, and drinking tea.

Oh, and also having you cockwarm him while he reads!

It was practically routine at this point. Hot tea and a nice book plus your gummy walls around his cock?! It helped him de-stress! Hearing you whine and moan for him was just a bonus. You looked so cute all desperate and trying to wiggle yourself around on his cock!

Though it was a slight annoyance when he kept trying to read! You just couldn’t help yourself and he knew it. No matter how much you complained he knew you liked it.

The way you walked around in nothing but a tiny night dress and no panties? You were basically serving yourself right up to him!

But everytime you squirmed or writhed on his lap it made him lose focus when the book was just getting good!

“God, stay still, will you?” He groaned despite how good it felt having your achey cunt keep his cock warm.

“Scaraa.. Can’t help it.. Please I-“

You yelped as his hand landed down hard on your ass.

“I need to finish this chapter. Now be quiet and stay still. I won’t ask again.”

You whimpered and nodded your head, burying your face into the crook of his neck and trying your best to not move your hips.

You bit your lip each time Scara (purposefully) shifted his position slightly. Only muttering small “hmm”s or “ohh”s from time to time as he read.

Your pussy was drooling all over his cock and he refused to do anything about it! You tried to rock your hips a little but that just resulted in another smack to your ass to still you.

Luckily, Scaramouche wasn’t a very patient man. And the squeeze of your walls around his cock got too good to resist!

He shut his book and threw it off to the side somewhere before grabbing your hips, lifting you up, and slamming you back down onto his cock! Causing you to scream out in pleasure as he finally started thrusting up into you.

“Fuck. You’re so good for me.. so good..” Scara groaned as he felt you land back down onto his cock again. His hips rocking up into yours.

“Yes, yes! Right there, Scara!.. Right there!..” You panted heavily, feeling your orgasm approaching quickly.

You couldn’t help it! You waited so long and all you wanted was to feel your sweet release. He could tell you were close with the way you kept biting down onto his shoulder to try and hold yourself back.

“Gonna cum, pretty girl?.. Come for me.. Come on..” He grunted, lifting you up and letting you fall back down on him again.

His encouragement sent you over as you felt your orgasm crash through you. Your juices soaking onto his cock as he felt his own orgasm crash through him as well, his cock erupting inside your walls and painting your walls white.

You collapsed down onto his chest, your hands finding purchase on his shoulders and bunching up the fabric of his shirt between your knuckles. He moaned softly, one of his hands coming to rub your bask soothingly.

“Fuck baby..”

[littlemissmiller]

Bird in a Cage

Part 2: Wanted and Needed

Pairing: dark!coriolanus x fem!reader

Summary: after spending another night in the palace, president snow has many things planned for you, and he just loves to dress you up.

Warning: 21+ (drinking), eventually smut, dark themes, toxic themes, kidnapping, obsession, possession, stalking

Word count: 4.2k

A/N: hello 👋🏼 ok so…i think i may be able to get another fic out today im thinking chapter 4 of Summer Highs will be ready today sooo just hang in there. this series however, the heat is turning up and we definitely got a smutty moment coming up (also im still working still The Shopkeeper’s Daughter part 2 y’all I promise I’ll get it done) so enjoy this one y’all, i know i did ❤︎︎

Series Masterlist

༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚

The next morning you realize that you must have fallen asleep in the bathroom as you pull yourself up from the cold tile. Your neck and back hurts and you strain to turn it. You slowly get up and walk back into the bedroom, flopping down on the bed. You curl up, wanting to go back to sleep again, but you hear a knock that jolts you up.

“Yes?”

The same maid from last night enters. She’s holding a new outfit in her hand.

“Good morning. President Snow wishes to see you in this today. He also wishes to have you join him for breakfast so please change and knock when you’re done.”

“Tell him I didn’t sleep well last night and I want to rest. Please.” You plea

“I’m sorry, but these are my orders.” She frowns, holding the dress out in front of her.

You take it and hold it up. It’s a delicate blue, almost the same color as his eyes. It’s flowy, the shoulders slightly puffed out and the neckline is off the shoulder. She also hands you a pair of white heels and leaves the room. You want to cry again, but feel too physically exhausted to be able to. You begrudgingly roll out of bed and change.

Once all done up, you walk over to the door and knock on it. The maid and the two armed guards are waiting outside and you walk with them. This time they take you to a separate part of the palace, up the stairs and into a larger dining room. As you walk you take note of your surroundings, and continue plotting how you’re going to get out of here without him knowing. You might have to disappear for a while, but you’re not about to let him rip you from your life completely.

When you enter, he’s waiting, alone, sipping his tea and reading the paper. He glances up and smiles.

“Come sit my dear.“

The maid leaves, but the armed guards take their post just outside the room. You slowly walk towards and take the seat across from him.

“You look beautiful. I know how to dress you well, it seems.”

“Is this what you made the other girls wear?”

“No.” He flips the page “I tailor my outfits accordingly for each of you.”

“So what does that mean?”

“That dress, that black set? It’s yours. Anything I give you under my care is yours forever, understand?”

“Yes, President Snow.”

“Good girl. After lunch today I’ll have the maid draw you a bath and I’ll have my masseuse come see you.”

“W-why?” You scrunch your face up

“Because you need it don’t you. You slept on the bathroom floor all night.” He smiles

“Thank you.” You mumble, shyly looking away

“You truly look gorgeous this morning. I should have one of the maids curl your hair before you change for dinner this evening.”

“You want me to change again?”

“Of course my dear. One should always look as presentable as possible when they have an evening meal with guests.”

“I normally only do it for special events.” You speak up

“And dinner with the president isn’t special?” He smirks, turning the page again.

You watch him as an uncomfortable silence washes into the room. Then a few avoxes walk into the room with silver trays. Coriolanus pays them no mind, but is interested in what they contain under the stainless steel cloche. They first lay out the silverware, then lift it and serve the plates. It’s a perfectly made French omelette , topped off with chives and a small pad of butter that is still melting, with crumbled crispy potatoes sprinkled over the whole thing. Next to it sits a small slice of toast with a raspberry jam. They then sat down a tea kettle, two silver teacups and served them steaming black tea. Lastly, they leave a pitcher of orange juice and two short glasses. They quietly exit the room and Coriolanus stirs his tea before sipping it.

You look down at your plate then glance up at him. He folds the paper up, making sure the edges are crisp and clean. He notices you watching him and gives a devilish half smile.

“You can start eating if you want.”

You nod and take a bite. Immediately you can taste how smooth and creamy it is. You can taste the ingredients piped inside, an herbed goat cheese and it melts in your mouth. You savor the taste, loving the texture of the egg as it dances with the cheese. Coriolanus takes it upon himself to pour you some juice and you have a strange urge to apologize. You set down your fork and try to say sorry but he cuts you off.

“It’s ok. I don’t mind my dear, here.” He utters

“Thank you, Mr. President.”

“Good girl.” He whispers as you take the glass to your lips.

“So what’s after breakfast?”

“I have a meeting with the Game Makers, a more formal welcome to the new additions than a fancy gala, and you’ll be modeling those dresses I was telling you about.”

“I thought that was just a lie you told my family.”

“Not entirely. You are a model by trade after all, no?”

“I am”

“Well, we need models for this year’s games to advertise the upcoming looks and you’re a model. Seems pretty straightforward no?”

“So you just want me to play dress up for you all day then?” You question, raising an eyebrow

He gives you a stern look and cocks his head. He scoffs.

“Don’t have such an attitude, my dear. It’s not fitting for a First Lady.”

You sit wordless for a moment, scared but also pissed. Fuck him. Fuck this First Lady shit. You desperately wanted to tell him off, but you utter a small apology.

“Good. It won’t even take up your entire day, I made sure of that. After my meeting, I expect you to join me for lunch. I think you’ll like it.”

“Why is that?”

“I asked to have it be served to us in the garden. I thought I’d show you around after.”

“Around the garden?”

“Yes.” He states simply “Are you enjoying your omelette?” He asks, taking a bite of his own.

“It’s delicious. Everything you’ve served me has been amazing.” You state truthfully

“I’m glad you think so.” He smiles, then he holds out his hand. You look at it and he turns his palm over. You hesitantly place just your fingertips on top of his hand. He grasps it and pulls it forward, placing soft kisses on your knuckles. He rubs them gently, smiling at you.

“You’re so beautiful. I hope to make you mine.”

“Why do you think I will please you?”

“Hmm, I bet you don’t remember meeting me at the Gala?”

“N-no?”

He smiles wider, scanning your face to see if you remember anything at all from that night.

Coriolanus goes on to explain how he first saw you and how he approached you, asking you to join his private table. You of course said yes, so he took you by the hand and led you to his group. You sat with him, he gave you lots of wine, and eventually he sent you “home”, allegedly kissing your cheek as he got you into the car, and sent you off to his house. At some point he had indeed drugged your drink and you woke up in the palace instead. You hadn’t woken up the next day, but instead spent two days asleep, the power of the drugs had lured you into a deep sleep, and now you’re having breakfast with him.

“I have your dress from that night by the way. It looked stunning on your body. Red is a great color on you.”

“Thank you”

“Perhaps I’ll have you wear it tonight, to dinner. What do you think, my lovely?”

“I would like to have my dress back.”

“Of course. Like I said, whatever I give you is yours.”

“Well the dress was already mine.” You snicker

You immediately freeze, realizing your tongue may have gotten the best if you, but he merely reciprocates your actions.

“You can’t help but to be such a clever girl hmm?” He kisses your knuckles again

“If you say so. You didn’t answer my question though. Why do you think I’ll please you?”

“Because you were pleasant that night. Funny, charming, easy to be around. My team believes I’ve become too wild and rambunctious. They say I need to settle down and to an extent, I agree. I can’t help but want to enjoy my wealth these days. While I’m still young I don't care, if you understand me?”

You nod along and he continues.

“I figure, most people show who they really are when they meet me. Whether it’s to impress me or win over my favor, I can always see a person’s true intentions. Through whatever facade they come with, I can see their truth.”

“And did you see me then? What was my front?”

“Nothing. You had nothing to hide.” He leans forward “Which is why I find you so special.” He whispers

He rubs your hand, giving your knuckles one last kiss before letting your hand go. You pull it back quickly and relax it on your lap. Then a small ding ding ding cries out from his pocket. He digs around and retrieves his pocket watch. He raises his eyebrows.

“Ah, I have to go my dear!” He claims as he returns the watch back into his jacket. He stands up and moves to stand behind your chair. He places his hands on your shoulders and massages them.

“I’ll see you for lunch.” He bends down to kiss your cheek “and then for dinner.” He kisses you again “be good today my sweets, I have something for you later if you behave. Will you be ok to dine alone for the rest of breakfast?”

You nod and he tilts your face to look at his. With the smallest touch of his forefinger, he lifts your chin so you look at him fully. Coriolanus gives you a curious frown and you know what he wants.

“Yes, President Snow, I’ll be ok to dine alone.”

“Good girl, the maid will escort you to get ready when you’re done, but take your time.”

He smirks, giving your cheek one last kiss. He squeezes your shoulders, sighs, smirks again to himself, and walks away.

You feel as if you can finally breathe, letting out an immense sigh of relief as you hear the door close. You look down at your food and don’t feel like you can realistically finish it. You stand up and knock on the door. The maid opens it and escorts you out. She takes you through the palace, not taking you back to your room.

“Where are we going?” You inquire

“The lounge, that’s where the photo shoot is happening.”

You follow her, still noting the layout of the palace as you walk around. You finally reach a set of tall double doors and the maid opens it, escorting you inside. The room is similar to his office, same crème walls, accented with gold, red Chesterfield lounge chairs

“Ah wonderful!” A man cries out as you enter the room. He’s holding a camera in one hand the other setting up the tripod stand for it to sit on. “Come in dear!” He states enthusiastically. You look around the room and notice several other people getting things together.

“H-hi” you quiver

“The President said you’re a model by trade?”

“I am”

“Splendid! Then I’ll have you change into that first dress on the rack and will move our way down.”

He points to a rack of dress and a room divider in the corner and you nod. You walk over to it and examine the dresses. It seems like they are for District 12, given they are all gray and black. Coal. Of course Snow would want the contestants to dress like this. Parade them around a bit as the very goods that are used to fuel the capital. Almost as a double reminder of who they serve. You look at the first dress. It’s a corset style top with a short length skirt. Around the bottom was a thin layer of black tulle. You take it and step behind the divider to change. You step out and a woman approaches you.

“Beautiful! Let’s fix up your hair and makeup.” She smiles, escorting you over to a vanity.

After about an hour of hair weaving and being all done up like a doll, she shows you a mirror. She’s weaved your hair into several small braids, which she then weaved into a big, ponytail, that sits directly in the top of your head. Your makeup is a clean smoky eye, and you honestly look sexy.

“Ok so it’s very simple just posing with the chairs and other parts of the room.” She explains and walks back over to the camera man.

“Ok my dear let’s have you lay out here. Back on the seat, and kick your feet up, yes, that's it lovely.” He instructs, setting up the camera to be in frame. “Up a bit more, your left leg, that's beautiful.”

You look into the camera, feeling completely comfortable for the first time since being here. This is your element. This is what you’re good at. It’s not all about looking pretty, it’s about selling the look to the audience, the viewer, the buyer and most importantly the person who wears it. You pose in a few more positions on the couch and lose yourself in the fun. That’s another part of this job you’ve liked. The fun. The freedom and the ability to dress up, almost become a different person. It transforms you.

“Beautiful. Ok let’s do a few more in the next dress. Ok dear?”

“Sounds good.”

The next dress you change into is a deep v, showing off the curves and valley of your breasts, stopping just above your stomach. It’s like a huge gemstone, every part of it beaded and bedazzled. It fits perfectly, just how the other one fits and you walk out from behind the divider.

“Oh that’s beautiful! The President sure does have good taste.”

“President Snow picked these out?”

“Of course. He does every year.” The photographer smiles, beckoning you to him. You pose in front of the couch some more, and now find that you feel slightly uncomfortable again. You can’t help but feel Snow’s eyes on you again. Perhaps he’s watching you in this room too. You try not to think of it as you stare into the camera lens, but it only makes you feel more watched.

“Hey dear? You ok?” The cameraman questions, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Yeah I’m fine.” You smile “Just wondering about the other models. Am I going to be shooting with them?” You inquire, seeing if maybe you can talk to one and ask for help.

Maybe someone could get a message out without Snow knowing

You think.

“Not today, but tomorrow we will do all 12, right now we are just getting individuals for each district.”

“Where are the other girls?” You inquire, trying to sound casual

“District Two!”

You nod and the cameraman continues, encouraging you as you pose for him. So you have more modeling tomorrow. You wonder when he was going to tell you and that’s the last thought you have of him during the session. A few more dresses later and your stomach starts to growl. You hold it instinctively, wincing in pain.

“A few more shots and we’ll break for lunch beautiful. That’s it, look here, a little more to the left…a little more, yes perfect!” The camera flashes rapidly. “Ok team! Let’s break for lunch, we’ll come back in an hour and a half and finish up.”

The stylist starts to pack up and the cameraman starts to disassemble his tripod. One of the stylists helps you with your hair and wipes off your makeup.

“We’ll do a new style after lunch, ok dear?” You nod somberly, knowing that lunch for you means lunch with him. As you wipe the rest of your makeup off, the maid walks in with another change of clothes.

“Another outfit?” You examine it and she nods wordlessly. It’s a white dress, knee length, with slightly puffy sleeves. On top is a white hair bow and a pair of white, strapped sandals. You sigh and take it from her. By the time you change, it’s just you and the maid. You also take down your hair, it falls out, now slightly curled from being woven up. She walks you out and around the back of the palace. You eventually arrive at a big sliding glass door that opens into the garden and you can see him in the distance.

Coriolanus is admiring one of his many white rose bushes. He picks one and twirls it in his fingers. You approach him, your footsteps quiet and he doesn’t hear you at first. You step on a leaf, causing him to look up. He smiles, oh so happy to see you.

“Hello my dear.” He greets you stepping towards you.

You stop in front of him and he reaches out his hand to feel your hair. He plays with in between his thumb and forefinger. He takes in your scent, smiling greedily.

“Come darling. I know you must be hungry. Why didn’t you finish your breakfast?” He asks sweetly

Of course he knows. He must have his people keeping track of your meals, the amount you’re eating.

“Was it not good?” He follows up when you don’t answer immediately

“No, sir. It was fine, it’s just that my appetite hasn't been the same since I got here.”

“My darling, you should have told me what you wanted. I want you to be cared for well since you’re being so good for me”

“I-I am hungry though. W-what’s for lunch” you stutter

“You’ll see. I think you’ll like it again.”

You walk with him through the garden and he hands you the rose he was playing with.

“For you.”

“Thank you President Snow.” You nod, taking the steam in your hand

“You’re most welcome my sweets” he smiles, his charming lips curling up almost sinisterly.

You walk a bit more, admiring the other flowers in the garden, and how green everything is. He takes you a bit further until you pass the greenhouse. Around on the other side is a neat table for two looking out into the fountains and waterways. It’s set up with silverware sets and empty wine glasses. In the center is a cylindrical wine cooler and a bottle sitting in it. You’re slightly taken aback at the slight and want to hate how beautifully romantic it is because you’re here with Snow and not someone that you actually love. That you’d actually want to be on a date with. You sigh to yourself, but he notices.

“What’s wrong my angel. Here come sit.” He pats the white iron garden chair and you reluctantly follow his orders.

“Would you like some white wine?” He asks

“Yes please. Thank you, President Snow.” You nod, taking a seat. He sits across from you and uncorks the bottle. He pours you a fair amount and then himself.

“I just recently started having a drink with lunch. It’s nice to go into the rest of the afternoon feeling less tense. And I can still get everything done.” It works out well.”

You nod and look around. It’s hard not to feel somewhat at peace in such a beautiful environment. You avoid his gaze, even though he’s eyeing you like his prey. You glance at him and take a nervous drink of your wine.

“How was your meeting?” You quip up

Coriolanus perks up at the question, his smile widening.

“I appreciate you asking my dear. So thoughtful.” He pauses, sipping his wine. “It was honestly mundane, but productive nonetheless. I’m excited for you to see this year’s upcoming games. We really want to do something new for the 20th Anniversary. “

“Sounds exciting” you lie

“My dear, do you not enjoy the games?”

“I-I never said that…”

“You didn’t need to.” He pauses again, leaning forward. “Tell me if someone you trusted, perhaps even someone you loved, betrayed you, tried to kill you, starve you out, all because they wanted what they couldn’t provide for themselves. Just to take from you, would you simply forgive them…”

“It would be hard, I don’t think I would though…”

“Exactly! Even those we hold close to us can soon turn into a predator and us, the prey. We must never forget our human nature calls for us to given into our animalistic instincts in the most desperate of times. And that’s the biggest game out of them all. Pretending to uphold civility, pretending that we don’t truly want to devour each other for power.” He gives you a devious look, a devilish grin spreading across his face.

“And wanting to devour each other in other ways…”

You nervously look away, out onto the garden. He reaches across the table and tilts your chin to him.

“Look at me beautiful. Don’t be shy with me. Tell me, do you think I’m wrong?”

“No sir, you're not wrong President Snow”

“Good girl.” He whispers

He holds for face and moments later, a few avoxes enter. They once again wheel out a cart similar to the one at lunch, serving up the plates. They take the covers off and reveal what appears to be a tomato soup and a grilled cheese with bacon. It seems unusual at first and you notice how he watches your expression.

“Basil tomato soup, and grilled cheese with bacon, Gouda, white cheddar and apple slices. I think you’ll find it a unique twist on a classic.”

“It smells and looks delicious.”

“Of course. Dig in my dear.” He scoots in, taking his sandwich and biting into it. You pick up your own as well, dunking it in the soup. As soon as the flavor hits your mouth, they storm off into a wonderful dance. You’re not sure how it’s possible, but every meal is as amazing as the last. You sip on your wine to get it down and it pairs perfectly with the taste.

“Good?” He raises an eyebrow

You nod and he gives you a stern look.

“Yes, President Snow.”

“I knew you’d like it. After this you’ll finish up the photo shoot, then I’ll have the maid draw you a bath and curl your hair. I want you absolutely perfect for dinner. Do you understand?”

“Yes sir, I understand” you nod

“Excellent! So tell me how’s the shoot going?”

“Good. It’s nice to feel comfortable here. Modeling has always made me feel good about myself.”

“Does it? Tell me more.”

You're stunned. Like a deer in headlights, you feel frozen by the question. You pause for a moment and you watch as he waits patiently for your response.

“Well I guess when I was a teenager people would tell me how beautiful I was, but I had a hard time believing it and then one day a friend of mine wanted me to try on some clothes and take pictures in it and I just felt natural, I finally felt beautiful.”

Coriolanus reaches for your hand and you put it in his. He kisses your knuckles gently.

“Who ever said you’re not beautiful?” He says, a puzzled look spreading on his face

“N-no one.”

“Then why would you think that you’re not beautiful?”

You pause for a moment and look down again. He squeezes your hand, his face drooping and you gaze into his eyes. They are so mesmerizing. A deep ocean blue, and they compel you to speak freely from your heart. You stutter at first then relax once more under the feeling of his lips meeting your hand once more.

“My mother, she was very superficial when it came to physical appearance. I always felt like I had to please her by looking nice.“ you confess

Coriolanus squeezes your hand even more tight and looks down at his lap. He contains his newfound anger at your mother and then looks back up with a soft smile.

“You are truly beautiful my dear. As long as you’re in my care, I’ll make sure you always feel beautiful and never think that way again. Okay?”

“Yes, Mr. President “

“Good girl.” He kisses your knuckles one last time

After lunch, he sends you off to model the rest of the dresses and you ponder his words. You think about his face, the way he looked as if he might fall apart by simply hearing about your insecurities. How he wants to fix them and cast them away from your mind. Forever. And the way he has arranged your time here. The modeling, the photoshoots, as if he knew that’s when you felt most beautiful. You want to hate it, but there is a part of you that feels cared for. Wanted. Needed. In a way you haven’t before.

꧁🝮꧂

[kaeyas-beloved]

before i could tell you

Character: Wriothesley

— he died never knowing your greatest secret

CW: afab!gn!reader (they/them), ANGST, hurt/no comfort, pregnancy, death (Wriothesley), Fontaine Act 4 spoilers

val’s no sympathy november masterlist

happy birthday Wriothesley... <3

The clock in the Chief Justice's office never ticked as loudly as it did now. What once served as pleasant background noise was presently a gut-wrenching reminder that you're currently in the realm of reality and not some dream world. However, you still futilely fight against it... simply because it’s all you can and want to do.

"Quit... quit joking around, it's not funny." Neuvillette takes a deep breath through his nose, subtlety glancing at the other faces in the room. The traveler from afar can’t bring themselves to raise their head, Clorinde stands deep in thought and Paimon floats beside her companion, sniffling softly. All of them can’t bring themselves to face you, each harboring their own regret.

As the embodiment of justice, Neuvillette rarely jokes, especially with concerns to another’s life. You knew this well, and yet you still repeat that same plea to him, hoping you’ll get a different answer than just silence. “Don’t joke like that Neuvillette… he’s fine… Wriothesley’s okay… he’s at home isn’t he? Like he said he’d be?”

You’re holding yourself like it’s the last defense you have at not splitting at the seams, and Fontaine’s Iudex wants desperately to deliver a different verdict that what the world has decided. Words the Warden spoke to him one evening over a hot pot of tea echo in his mind as he looks at your fragile form.

“You’ll keep them safe for me, won’t you Neuvillette? Life as Warden has its twists and turns, you never know what might happen down here. Ah, but of course you know this, don’t you?” He followed with a carefree laugh, and he could easily lie about being unaware of the ticking time bomb he sat above if he wanted to.

He feels as if he’s failed the man in keeping that promise. You physically may be safe, but your heart is going through hell and back in that moment and there wasn’t anything he could do. He could only watch on as the world around you buzzed, everything suddenly a trigger made to launch your senses into a state of overload. The light pouring through the window is too bright, everyone’s presence is too suffocating, your chest tightens and your stomach feels like it’s tearing itself apart and you just might be sick right then and there if you didn’t take a breath.

The embrace you had on yourself tightens, and as a form of comfort you imagine the familiar heat of your husband hugging you from behind, his large frame encompassing and the only thing you ever needed to feel better at times like these. For just a moment you’re able to feel him hold you, tuck his head into your shoulder and telling you that everything will be alright as he keeps you afloat.

He can’t though, not anymore, and instead it’s Paimon who tries to console you through words and the champion duelist who steadies you when your legs threaten to give out. “It’s okay, Wriothesley would want you to stay happy right? He’d want you to keep living even though he’s not here with you…”

Your gaze slowly lifts to the pink fairy, a shaky breath forcing itself past your lips, “it’s not okay Paimon… he didn’t know… I didn’t get to tell him…”

Your quiet admission not only confused her but the others as well, “Paimon doesn’t understand, you didn’t get to tell him what exactly?”

Neuvillette suddenly speaks, his eyes scanning over you. Anyone who knew him could see the underlying shock in his irises, unprepared to face this new revelation, “you’re with child, aren’t you?” The pieces click in his mind and anyone that was paying attention would notice the beginning of a heavy downpour starting right outside.

Softly nodding, fat tears began to slide down your cheeks, voice breaking as you continue, “I was going to tell him today, after he got off work. He promised he’d make it home tonight. Oh that Wriothesley… stupid, stupid Wriothesley…”

“Tell me how what happened, please. In full detail,” your request is met by hesitant silence, Clorinde finally being the one to speak up. You didn’t think it possible, but somehow everything just got worse and worse.

He was splashed with Primordial Sea Water closing the gates in the Fortress of Meropide. There is no body to bury. There’s no way to say a final goodbye. The Iudex watches a fresh wave of tears line your eyes, your blank stare as you process everything his cue to proceed with what hehe had in mind.

Standing from his seat, he walks up to you and lifts your trembling hands, placing something cool in your palm. Looking down, you’re surprised to see the necklace you’d gifted Wriothesley a few years ago, the one he refused to take off because it, according to him, “feels nice against my heart. Like a piece of you is always with me.”

“This was… in the pile of clothes left behind. I believe it to be something returned back to you,” he said, patting your hand once before brushing past you. Out of your view the male waved the others out of the room, just to give you a few moments to yourself.

When the door closed was the same second the dam broke, sobs of a heartbreaking calibre echoing in the quiet room. There was only one thought that circled in your mind: he’s gone, and he’s not coming back. No more waking up to his gruff voice in the morning, hair tossed in all different directions. You’ll never feel his calloused hands caress your cheeks, his voice low and only meant for you as he tells you he’s the luckiest man in the world to have you as his spouse and how he can’t wait for what the future would bring you both.

No more gushing to one another about how you’ll spoil your children as much as you can, daydreaming about what the little ones could look like, only to cuddle close and ready to fall asleep with the promise that no matter what you’d love them regardless.

“We’re getting our biggest dream to come true Wriothesley… I’m telling you now, so come back and love them liked you promised dammit. I can’t do this without you.”

Tag list: (both regular and event exclusive): @spoopy-fish-writes // @that-enby-alien // @xenuuu // @kaeyaloml // @mariposa666haruka // @quackquackmfs // @kunikuzushiii // @genshin-impact-writings // @ventisweetheart // @lordbugs // @leena-shi // @ari-the-wr1ter // @xiaos-wife // @milkwithspiceyicecubes // @stygianoir // @francisnyx

+

@kaiserkisser // @multipleshadesofblue // @moloteco-real // @kithewanderingme // @scaramood // @ii-lily2 // @esuz // @kochothehoe // @cindywasneverhere

[obae-me]

A Taste Of His Own Medicine- Full Revised Masterpost

No one asked for it, but I wanted it, so here it is! I was going through some of my old stuff, particularly this series because it was a personal favorite of mine. And boy oh boy did I feel like it was outdated. Partially because of nightbringer, but also because my writing style has changed a bit over the last few years. So, I figured I'd go through it all, edit a few things, take out a few bits I didn't agree with character wise, and add some details here and there to make it all flow a little better! Lucifer's chapter especially got a chunky overhaul (yeesh that one made me cringe). The changes aren't enormous, but just enough to make a difference I think. And now I get to put them all in one nice little post! I'll still be keeping my older versions on my masterlist. It'll be kinda neat to have both there for comparison's sake. Plus I added a little bonus scene at the end that's... a teaser of things I have planned. See if you can guess what it is. Oh, and if you're new here, hi! Enjoy a silly fic I made!

Anyways, enjoy!

Warnings: Sickness, fainting, blood mention, gagging, fighting, medication use, brief taking of double doses. General sickfic things.

It spread as a rumor first. The halls of RAD were always abuzz with the latest news; the newest trend, an upcoming event, what Diavolo was having for lunch. However, lately the only thing everyone seemed to be talking about was a new airborne virus. Students clustered less frequently in the halls, sharing hushed whispers on who had been most recently afflicted. You had been assured that humans should be immune to this particular strain but to still err on the side of caution. Take the proper steps to keep yourself in good health. Waves of sickness like this always came closer to the wintertime, much like the human realm. And while the air in the Devildom carried a general sense of anxiety, no one in the House of Lamentation seemed worried in the least.

“We’re technically fallen angels, not demons.”

“Psh, you think a little virus is enough to affect us? No chance!”

“There’s no way any of us will get sick. Don’t worry.”

Pride was rampant throughout the House. So…perhaps it was only fitting that Lucifer was the first in the household to catch it.

He had shown symptoms a few days before, beginning with not having the energy to scold Mammon. Then it snowballed from there. Almost losing his balance while going up the stairs, putting too much sweetener in his coffee, failing to focus over relatively mindless things, it concerned you. Everyone else didn’t seem to notice…or perhaps they were pretending not to, taking advantage of Lucifer’s odd state and doing whatever their sinful little hearts desired. No one thought it could be that serious, otherwise they might’ve done something about it. Kept a closer eye on him… But this was Lucifer after all. He got like this sometimes, they all claimed. He was simply working himself too hard again. But…even so…you knew something was off. This was more than just your typical burnout.

Did you dare risk damaging his pride to ask? You weighed the outcomes in your mind, deciding in the end to go check on what was wrong that night. Hoping to appeal to him, you had even made some of his favorite tea. You’d even prepared a second cup for you, secretly wanting to maybe share a moment of time together… Stepping slowly to ensure you didn’t spill a single drop, you went straight to his bedroom, knocking on his door exactly twice in even beats. No answer. His study then, perhaps. So you headed there, passing the shelves of dusty tomes to see that the bookshelf which served as his secret entrance was wide open.

“Lucifer?” you called, holding yourself back on worried feet. Waltzing in unannounced did not always grant you the warmest of receptions. He preferred to have some sort of warning. Although, this time there was no response to your announcement. “Lucifer?” you asked again, your voice slightly louder. Still nothing. You couldn’t hear any music… and he wasn’t often known to wear headphones. Just a peek couldn’t hurt, could it? Just to make sure he wasn’t inside. You stepped forward and poked your head through the doorway.

At first glance, the office appeared empty, his overly grandiose chair devoid of its demon. However, after a better look, you noticed that he was inside, just not how you expected him to be. The Prideful Lucifer was crumpled on the ground, surrounded by what should’ve been a stack of papers, but now was just a scattered mess on the floor.

The heart in your chest nearly stopped, your mind jumping to various grisly conclusions. Somehow you managed to put the teacups aside without dropping them like one might do in a dramatic soap opera episode. The musical sting was audible in your mind. You rushed to him, moving him with a strained grunt so he was flat on his back. You shouted his name in an attempt to wake him, checking for wounds. “Lucifer!” He didn’t move. Not even a twitch. Burning crimson cheeks flushed brightly on skin as white as a sheet. You checked his breathing. Constant, luckily, but shaky. There was a faint tremble throughout his body. Your hand drifted down to his cheek as you caressed his face. To say he looked terrible was an understatement.

You fumbled for your D.D.D. desperately hoping that someone would pick up quickly. But who to call? Your mind ran through everyone you knew. Mammon? Barbatos? Diavolo? Perhaps Beel was your best bet. He was dependable. You didn’t want to risk anyone else taking advantage of him like this. Besides there was no way you could drag Lucifer up to bed alone, and Beel was easily as strong as three of you.

You dialed Gluttony, doing your best to not bite your knuckles in worry. Each echoing ring felt far too long… Pick up… Pick up! “Oh, MC, you called at a good time.” The breath that came out of you was almost a gasp. “I’m getting ready to order food since the kitchen is empty. What do you want? I’ll get it for you?” Beel sounded like he was still in the middle of chewing, which probably meant he just now emptied out the kitchen. Now wasn’t the time to worry about that though.

“Beel- Beel! I… I came into the office and… Please come down to Lucifer’s study, I- I need your help! Lucifer- Lucifer he’s…not well.” Your voice shook, doing your best to form comprehensive words aside from the panic. You’d hid the fact that he collapsed to save some of his pride. Even though it would be fairly obvious once Beel got here…

Beelzebub’s tone went more serious. He swallowed whatever food he had left before speaking again. “I’ll be right there.” He hung up.

Now that Beel was coming to help, you felt a bit more relaxed, but not by much. You put your D.D.D. back into your pocket and knelt beside Lucifer’s body. His head was lifted up with your shaking hands, letting him use your lap as a pillow. You brushed away the hair that was now starting to stick to his skin. You’d never seen him like this before, and you were certain that Lucifer would rather die than be discovered like this. Nevertheless you couldn’t help but pet his head.

It wasn’t too long before Beel came in, messy crumbs all over his shirt as he left in a haste. Once he saw the state Lucifer was in, he scanned back over his shoulder. “Mammon is busy arguing with Levi, Belphie is taking a nap, Asmo’s out, and I’m hoping Satan is in his room. Let’s get Lucifer to bed quickly.” He came over and quickly lifted his elder brother up off the floor. It didn’t matter how long you had been around him, any time Beel was able to show of just how strong he was, it left you in awe. “Why don’t you go ahead of us and meet me in his room?” Beel asked. For a second, you blinked in a stupor before you quickly nodded, bolting as fast as your feet would take you up the stairs towards the second floor to his grand master bedroom.

Careful of potential eyes, you looked around for anyone before opening the door. As Beel said, you could hear Mammon and Levi going at it, but they were a few rooms away. You invited yourself inside, leaving the entrance open just a crack so Beel could easily come right in. Now to prep Lucifer’s bed. It was extremely large, entirely unnecessary for one person, but a perfect fit for the Demon of Pride. You took one corner of the silky sheets and folded them aside. Then you waited. And waited. And waited. After what seemed like eternity- but was realistically only a few minutes- both brothers entered the room. You got up and quietly shut the door behind them while Beel placed Lucifer on the bed.

“What do we do now?” you asked. “Should we call a doctor?”

Beel’s mouth tightened. It was obvious he was worried, but he shook his head. “We… can’t. We leave him alone and he’ll probably call someone when he wakes up.”

You stood there, jaw open, not able to fully process the words. “’We can’t?’ W-What do you mean, ‘we can’t’?”

“It’s sort of an unspoken rule… If Lucifer ever gets sick we have to leave him alone. Even just the fact that we brought him up here might get us in trouble.” Beel looked a bit downtrodden.

You stammered over your words. “I- but- we can’t- That’s the most ridiculous and hypocritical rule I’ve ever heard! If it were someone else, Lucifer would have everything covered as soon as possible!”

“It’s mostly to keep Satan and Belphie away… and to make sure Diavolo doesn’t find out. He tends to be a worrier.” Beel explained. He shrugged, glancing over at his brother for a moment as he thought. “I’ll go keep watch over this room. Maybe if you take care of him, he won’t be as upset. Please…take care of him MC.” With that he left, however you could still hear him outside the door, already munching on something as he stress ate.

You nervously paced. Taking care of him sounded easy in theory, but in actuality you had no idea how to take care of a demon. Would it be the same as a human? Probably not but that was all you knew how to do, so it had to be better than nothing, right? So you left the room for just a moment to grab a few things. A glass of water so he could stay hydrated and a bowl of cold water with a soft rag to bring down his temperature.

When you returned to the room, you froze. Lucifer was sitting up slightly in bed, looking disoriented. A relived sigh released all the built up tension in your lungs. “Oh, thank Diavolo… Lucifer, are you okay?” His head swung around at you, eyes a bit wide. He didn’t notice you had entered. “MC… what’re you doing in here? I--” He cut himself off in shock as you placed the cup of water in his hands and the bowl on his nightstand. You got the rag damp, wringing out the excess.

“Do you not remember?” you asked him, raising a hand to put the rag against his face. Embarrassed and clearly overwhelmed, he swatted your touch away and forcefully put the glass back in your hands.

“Enough of this fussing! There’s no need for it.” He scowled, but his dry lips were a bit poutier than he intended. “I don’t know what’s gotten you to believe you needed to come in my room, but I don’t remember inviting you. It’s about time you took your leave.” His tone was stern but his words didn’t have the usual sharp impact they normally did when he was upset. They just sounded tired. Strained. You frowned. You couldn’t tell if he was unaware he collapsed or just glancing over the fact he did. Either way he was clearly lying about being alright. You decided not to bring up the study situation for his pride’s sake, but even with your two fully ordinary human eyes you could tell that he needed to be looked after.

You’d defied him before and hadn’t died yet. Sure there had been close calls, but… what was going against him one more time going to do? “I’m not leaving," you told him.

Lucifer disapproved. His eyes went narrow and air around him grew even hotter. A few more red splotches showed up on his face… “Would you like to say that again? I hope for your sake I misheard you.”

“I’m not leaving you right now, Lucifer.” You stood your ground. Sometimes stubbornness needed to be met with more stubbornness. Lucifer clenched his jaw and stood up. Too quickly. He lost his balance and fell to his knees, clutching tightly the only thing keeping him from falling over. You. He had his face buried in your shirt, his breathing now ragged. Seeing him like this was torture… although there was something about seeing Pride be humbled that gave him further access to your heart. He wasn’t some untouchable distant concept. He was a person who got sick sometimes, just like you. Once more, you ran your hand through his hair, tender fingers rubbing at the pressure points on his scalp. Even him just being this close made you hot. He was a burning furnace. “You’re not well, Lucifer… And I know you won’t ever admit it so you don’t have to say anything, you don’t have to ask, I’ll do the begging, just please let me take care of you. You take care of everyone else, so when you can’t even take care of yourself let me take care of you. Please.”

He didn’t respond, just kept his face hidden. For a second, he motioned as if he was going to push you away… but he pulled you closer, his grip on your clothes getting tighter. Acceptance… You bent down to grab one of his arms to help him get to his feet. His throat cleared as he sat on the edge of his bed. It was clear he had a lot to say, but he kept everything to himself. Lucifer’s eyes wandered, looking at everything in his room except for you. Slowly, you reached towards his neck, taking the stuffy tie off of him. Kneeling down, you removed his dress shoes, tucking them aside. He loosened a few of his own buttons, already looking a little better without so many unnecessary layers. Finally, you took both his hands in your own, feeling the curves of his palms before stripping his hands of their gloves. When he got back inside his bed he turned away from you. Sulking and feeling thoroughly defeated probably. Flustered, if you could allow yourself to think so. You tried hard not to smile. He would absolutely kill you if he knew you thought he was being cute.

With a hand on his shoulder, you urged him to lie on his back. Once he begrudgingly did, you pulled the blankets up to his neck and had the rag in hand again. You ran the cool fabric across his cheeks before folding it up and settling it across his forehead. Then you went over to one of his record players, scouring through his large collection until you found the record that he told you was a favorite of his. And not one of his cursed ones. You placed it on the player, making sure the music was loud enough to be heard but not enough to keep him up. It started with a soft piece, something calm and hauntingly beautiful. Hopefully it would help him relax.

Lucifer already had his eyes closed again, the red in his cheeks gone down from cherry to coral- in other words, just a touch. However, it was enough to make you feel less antsy at his condition. You had been so close to contacting Diavolo, but now it seemed as if you didn’t need to. Since you had just had your hands in the water, they were cool to the touch, so you gently brushed them against his cheek again. This time he moved his head to melt into you. A soothed hum left his throat. He grabbed your sleeve, now looking up at you with an expression entirely different than just a few minutes before. “Please…don’t leave tonight.” His voice was soft and hush, almost as if he didn’t want to hear his own words. You rubbed his cheekbone with your thumb. A shiver ran through his body and it was hard to tell if it was from your touch or from the fever.

“Don’t worry, I won’t. Sleep now.” He shut his eyes and with a large shuddering sigh, he seemed to drift back to sleep. You took the rag, it already warm, and you touched your forehead to his. “Sweet dreams.” You whispered.

Lucifer recovered fairly quickly. What had left lesser demons bedridden for a week or so only had the eldest brother recovering for a handful of days. Now, he had done his best to keep himself isolated, but once his siblings eventually learned how bad off he had been- despite your best efforts to keep it a secret- they all came in on their own time to check on him. At the end of the day, even if they often had each other by the throat, they cared for each other deeply. You had to wonder if the extra unexpected TLC was part of what got Lucifer back up on his feet so rapidly.

Mammon was in and out of Luci’s room pretty frequently. Despite yours and Pride’s warnings, he was determined to do his duty as second in line and take care of his sibling. So, no one was all too surprised when Greed fell ill not even a single day after Lucifer was symptomless. But, what did catch everyone off guard was that Mammon was not the only one who got suddenly sick. Out of every other brother, Satan was also next to fall ill to the Devil’s Cold. Lucifer commented proudly that Wrath had been excellent in his service, bringing him specially crafted potions to lesson pain and bringing him up special meals to restore his vigor. All was revealed much to Satan’s dismay. Apparently it was meant to be a secret. He tried to twist it into some sort of reverse psychology prank, but everyone knew Satan was acting out of worry. So, a proper deed was returned in kind, Lucifer looking after the both of them to the best of his abilities. Such a doting older sibling through and through. Although, despite the rare opportunity to have Lucifer wait on them hand-and-foot, Mammon and Satan were both acting strangely difficult. Satan’s denial of Lucifer’s fussing made more sense, strained relationship and all, but Mammon’s sudden cold stubbornness was rather uncharacteristic. So, while the eldest was busy finishing the two extra workloads of Student Council business, he asked that you check up on the second-eldest.

You eagerly agreed. For not only was Mammon being reserved towards his siblings, but also towards you… It was a sensation you weren’t used to, him being so close to you and all. This would be a good excuse to see him. Approaching his room, you knocked on his door, pressing your ear against the expensive looking wood only to hear a groan from inside. It wasn’t what you would define as a dismissive groan, so you let yourself in. Overhead completely off, extra light from his displays all dimmed, you were left stumbling around in darkness for the light switch. Once you flicked it on, the pained moan you heard before returned, albeit louder this time. Seemed he was sensitive to light at the moment. You bit your bottom lip and flicked his light back off, opting to use the glow from the screen of your D.D.D. instead.

The faint light gave you enough vision to spot giant lump under the covers of his bed. Not a single part of Mammon’s body was exposed. He was all bundled in a ball. You came over, a nice hot drink in your hands in a shiny golden-colored mug. Lucifer had told you that the concoction was good for demons, and among that one of Mammon’s favorites. To you, it just smelled like cinnamon and milk.

You gently pressed your hand over the bed lump, shaking it slightly as you announced your presence with a soft voice. “Mammon, it’s me… Lucifer sent me. I have something for you.”

The blob of blankets shifted, little chirps of discomfort making their way to your ears. He scuttled away from you at first, the blanket pulled tighter around him. It required several minutes of coaxing for him to come out. The covers fell away as he finally sat up in bed, hair sticking up every which way. His black tank-top was sticking tight to his torso, his face devoid of the normal vibrancy it usually held. Not only that, but it seemed the exhaustion had him stuck halfway between his demon and human form. His body marks were present across his body, but they were very translucent. His horns were absent from his head, but you could see his wings tucked against his back. His nails were the sharpness of talons. Normally, his eyes shined at you, little flecks of gold floating in the seas of blue. Now his color was dulled. But at the sight of you, a bit of him perked up. You were a much needed presence. Even if he talked up a big game over text about ‘not needing to see you’, at the end of the day, having you at his side was what he wanted most of all. You could read from his expression that he regretted not having you come in sooner.

You held out the drink for him, and he reached for it with shaking hands. Worried he’d spill it, you cupped your own hands around his, giving him the added support as he brought the rim of the mug to his lips, taking mini sips while giving himself breaks to breathe in-between. You frowned… He was barely able to hold and consume his own drink. When he was done drinking it, you put the half-empty mug aside on his nightstand.

“Th-ank you, huma-hu… MC,” he croaked, his eyelids fluttered and he fell back onto his bed, his face buried in his pillow. He let his hand dangle over the side of his bed, his fingers almost grazing the floor. Your heart ached seeing him in this position… but you secretly had to admit, he was being awfully cute. His tsundere nature was gone, you only wished he didn’t need to be this far gone to be sweet with you. You ran a hand through his crazed hair. A little greasy. He would need to wash up. You’d let Lucifer handle that one. Mammon turned his head slightly, just enough to see you with one eye cracked open. You saw it glisten with tears for a split second before he turned back into his pillow. Lucifer was probably caring in his own demanding way, but you wanted to bet he’d never been treated like this before.

You shook your head a bit at that thought and went about rummaging though his clothes to find a cleaner outfit for him to wear. Lucifer could help him get changed out of those sweaty things later. You folded up a suitable replacement and placed it on his couch, pushing aside empty shopping bags. Then you sat beside Mammon on the mattress, reaching for the rag Lucifer had brought to him earlier. Mammon must’ve been tossing and turning for a while, seeing as it was at the end of his pillow case, threatening to fall to the floor. You dipped it in the bowl of cool water that was left on the nightstand, feeling the feverish warmth dissolve out of it.

“Mammon…Mammon, turn your head,” you asked. He raised up his dangling arm to reach for the covers…and pulled the fabric over his body with a huff. You had been wrong, apparently. There was still a twinge of tsundere left in him. It was comforting, at least, knowing that he still was the embarrassed little demon with that playful attitude you adored. You covered up a small smile with your hand. “Mammon, please. Pretty please? Pretty please with Grimm on top?” You pleaded with him, leaning on him with your own body till he squirmed under your pressure.

“Oi…” he croaked. “Fine…” He shuffled around under his sheets before showing just the upper part of his head, his gaze plastered on anything other than your face. You tried hard not to chuckle, you really did. He was being so stubborn about this. You placed the cool rag on his forehead and heard him sigh. You used a finger to pull down his blankets so you could see his features. You cupped his chin to move his head and guide his gaze towards yours. You stroked his cheek and watched a twinge of color return to his cheeks as he blushed.

“Do you need anything else, Mammon?” You asked him gently. It was a bold move to ask Greed what he wanted. You could only begin to imagine what he’d ask for. Cold cash? A new pair of shoes? A car? At the moment though, you didn’t care what he asked, you’d get it for him if it was within your power…and your budget.

To your surprise, he frowned at the thought of being pampered, apparently. He licked his cracked lips and shook his head. “N-Nah…you can…go.” Had hell frozen over? Was this why Lucifer had asked you to check on him? Was he so miserable right now, he couldn’t even turn to his sin? Or was there something more to it?

“Mammon… you’re not being greedy by letting me help you. I can grab you whatever you think you need. Hell, I’d go fishing in Lucifer’s wallet if I thought it would make you feel better.”

The second-born tried to laugh a little but just ended up coughing. After he wrestled control over his own lungs, he blinked a little, thinking. “Can I…have some water, maybe?” He talked as if this was a new sensation, as if he had never coveted anything in his life.

“Of course. Anything else?” If you managed to poke and prod a little more of his sin to come out, you’d feel a little better.

“I…don’t know…” Poor Mammon seemed pretty out of it, like he was dangerously close to falling asleep, but being forced awake by the sheer discomfort in his body. If you could help him out, he might stop tossing and turning.

“Okay,” you nodded, a little idea illuminating in the back of your mind. If he couldn’t be greedy, you’d be greedy for him. “I’ll be right back with a few things, okay?” His fingers snagged onto the end of your sleeve, upset at the thought of letting you go, but his hand dropped back to the bed. With an assuring squeeze to his shoulder, you left his room.

A quick text was sent to the other residents of the House, requiring a quick meeting in the common-room. You tried hard not to pace as you waited for each brother to trickle in, a curious look on all their faces. Lucifer showed up last, his arms folded but appearing more concerned than frustrated. “I’m assuming this has to do with Mammon,” the eldest chimed in before anything was said.

“Exactly.” Turning your head, you gave each brother a determined look before setting your plan in action. “We’re all putting together a Get-Well-Basket for Mammon!”

A sleepy voice raised a little. “Huh?… A Get-Well-Basket?”

You nodded. “Yeah, you know, like a little assortment of gifts to show someone you care. It doesn’t have to be much, but just grab things you think would make him feel better! Oh, and he likes words of affirmation, so you all have to write a nice note!” A few of them tried to groan, but you were hearing none of it. “Go on! Right now! The master of your pact demands you! Don’t make me use ‘stay’.” The grumbles turned into quick agreements as the able-bodied set off in their quest to prepare their brother a basket. You hurried off to your own room, grabbing an open Akuzon box off your floor, a set of pens and a stack of sticky-notes off your desk. Then you looked around for something to give your precious demon of Greed. A lot of the things you owned… had been bought by him. You guessed you hadn’t realized till now how much he bought things for you. He deserved some nice things back… Not wanting to leave Mammon waiting too much longer, you snagged a nice pair of socks and a crystal you’d bought at a nearby magic shop. They got thrown in the box as you went back to the common-room.

A few other brothers were already there by the time you returned. Pleased with them, you set the box on a nearby coffee-table and handed each of them a pen and a note. “Now, your little letters. Make them nice or I’ll force you do them again!”

Dramatic huffs and puffs were made for the show of things, but they all seemed to really think about something nice to say. “How’s he doing, by the way?” Beel wondered aloud, speaking as he recently entered the room. Different eyes flickered down to the floor. Seems they all were wondering the same thing but none of them knew how to say it.

“Not the best,” you admitted, taking a few of the brother’s gifts and settling them in the reused box. “Which is why I thought this little pick-me-up would do him some good.” The rest of the demons fell silent, finishing their notes and attaching them to their gifts.

“Tell him- Tell him I said to feel better,” Levi sighed, giving you a little wave before returning to his bedroom.

“Yeah! Tell him that if he misses out going to that party with me next week, I won’t ever forgive him!” Asmo’s eyes narrowed at nothing in particular, kissing his note before putting it with his gift. The other siblings had similar sentiments, their well-wishes eventually compiled into one box. You found yourself smiling. This would help for sure. With the box and the water he originally asked for in hand, you returned to his room.

Mammon was sitting up again when you came back, his knees tucked against his chest, his finger tugging at a loose thread on the hem of his blanket. The soft light coming from a book lamp on his nightstand helped you keep from tripping on the floor. When you walked in through the door, you could’ve sworn you saw him smile. His eyes took turns observing you and the curious box in your arms. “Wha’s that?” he wondered, his words slurred slightly.

“It’s for you.” In a few steps, you were back at his side, giving him the water first for him to drink before settling the Get-Well-Basket at his feet. “From me and all your brothers. To make you feel better.”

It was clear he was confused for a good while. “For…me?” But then, that little glimmer in his eyes returned as he started to rummage through the box. He read a few of the notes, scoffing and tossing most of them aside. Whatever they all had wrote had clearly touched him and made him embarrassed. It seemed as if this idea of yours was a success.

“Is there anything else I can get you?”

The demon of greed had to think deeply again before putting the box of gifts on the ground near his bed. He sighed a little, letting his legs leave his chest and go flat under the covers. Mammon hesitated before holding his hand out. “Y…Yo…” Even if he hadn’t fully said it, it was clear what he wanted in his time of need. You.

Something in your chest squeezed. You took Mammon’s hand and pulled him towards you, embracing him in a hug. His weary head rested on your shoulder, his shoulders relaxing, the tension leaving his body as your hand found it’s way between the joints of his wings. “You didn’t have to ask. I’m here whenever you need me. It’s not selfish to want someone by your side when you don’t feel well. And I want to be here...with you.” You could hear his little gasp as you held him, his breathing eventually becoming slower, calmer. With you at his side, he finally had enough peace of mind to relax. “Get some sleep if you can… everybody is waiting for you to get better…”

Mammon was now well on the mend thanks to your efforts. Sprung up like quite the spring chicken with you doting on him. He got his energy back faster than Lucifer did, but his symptoms lingered longer. It was rather amusing actually. Hard to steal stuff while your sniffles give away your location sneaking through the halls. Although, even with two counts of demon-caretaking under your belt and a self-proclaimed gift of healing, you had yet to check up on Wrath. Not to say you didn’t want to, you just… couldn’t. Banned, in fact. Deterred by Lucifer himself. But you just wanted to help. Lucifer was constantly busy, not to mention that his knowledgeable yet vengeful younger brother was expending all his strength that he should’ve used to recover busting the house to pieces in several fever-fueled rampages. It had seemed like the logical choice, and rarely did Lucifer prevent you from keeping an eye on his brothers. So why now of all times?

“He’s being…unreasonable,” was Lucifer’s answer. Out of all the possible reasons, this seemed among the most pathetic. A rearranged ‘because I said so’ with some vagueness sprinkled in. Disappointing.

“If I remember correctly, you were also pretty unreasonable,” you stated, trying to hold back a smirk steadily curling across your lips. He just scowled, glaring you up and down, trying to decide if he abhorred your backtalk or found it endearing. He leaned back in his cushy seat in his study, placing down his much too expensive pen by the pile of work he needed to finish by tonight. Another lecture on getting better rest tickled the back of your throat, tempting you. Recovered or not, he needed to give his body proper sleep lest he fall into another bout of sickness…

“And if I remember correctly, we agreed it would not be discussed again.” His sharp expression softened just a touch, a light shade of pink gracing his cheeks as he recalled how you took care of him in his weakened state. Before he thought about it too hard, he cleared his throat. Staggering hairs were brushed away from his forehead as he folded his arms in front of his chest. It heaved in a sigh. “His body and mind have been considerably weakened, therefore he has little to no control over his anger. He is Wrath, and I shudder to think what may befall you should you try to talk to him right now.” He peered deep into your eyes, taking note of your unwavering stance and stern composition. “And yet I suspect you’re going to go see him anyway.”

Bingo. Your hobby of thrusting yourself into dangerous situations formed another greying hair on Lucifer’s head. With a look equal parts exhaustion and worry, Pride lifted his hand and snapped his gloved fingers. Something in the house shifted. The magical lock placed on Satan’s room was broken for you. Although, Lucifer had to go over some rules, ensuring that, at the very least, Beel would be just outside should anything happen. You were to be whisked out of there at the first trace of danger.

The demon’s door was right in front of you now, and for a second you hesitated. You took a deep breath, clutching to your chest some medicine and a hardcover book from the human world containing old fables. Knowing him, he’d probably read it already, but it was worth a try. You knocked on the door, glancing a look at Beel before loudly stating your presence to the inhabitant of the room. Pushing the door open, you were pleased to find that so far you were unharmed, which was admittedly a great first step.

However, you quickly found yourself awash in a sea of books. A mess in Satan’s room was pretty normal. But this… was on a new scale. Honestly, you were almost impressed. Books and scrolls were haphazardly stacked, covering the floor, basically everywhere. You couldn’t even see his bed, it was hidden somewhere in this labyrinth of tomes. You held your breath, not even daring to breathe for fear everything around you would come tumbling down. The last thing you wanted was to be crushed to death. If the books didn’t kill you, you had a wary feeling Satan might for disturbing his ‘organized library’. So, you carefully weaved your way through slender passageways in the piles before you found, what you assumed, was Satan’s bed.

The reason you could only ‘assume’ is because at this juncture in time it hardly looked like a bed at all. Just a quick glance and it would’ve blended in with any other heap in this room. It was camouflaged with more books, torn pages, binders, pamphlets, a few cat figures, dioramas, etc.. Self reminder to check to see if there were any shows on demon-hoarders in the Devildom…

A jagged green-tipped tail dangled from beneath the bed-pile. It twitched and flicked, sending some novels skidding across the floor. You inhaled deep through your nose.

“Satan? It’s me.”

Satan’s tail whipped across the space between you and the bed. It struck one of the impossibly high stacks of books, sending it teetering and tottering threateningly before it crashed down. If you hadn’t taken a few steps back, you would’ve been one with that pile… You huffed to yourself. Rude… You wanted to help him and this was how he was treating you?

“Satan, please.” A book whizzed past your head and you winced, the sting of a little paper-cut blooming across your cheek. The air in the room was suddenly noticeably hot. You knew these were demons. You knew they were capable of destroying you in seconds, but that didn’t stop your stubborn nature from feeling absolutely offended. And so, as if you had a death wish, you scolded him. “Satan!” You strutted over, throwing the covers back and sending even more clutter to the floor, but at least you could look at him. But a part of you wished you couldn’t.

Teeth were bared as his mouth formed a menacing scowl. Hair was messy and untamed. His eyes were glowing an unnatural green, a lens behind his irises reflecting back at you like a creature in the shadows. A deep resonant rumble emanated from his chest. He looked absolutely feral, but it wasn’t till he pressed himself into the corner of his bed and the wall, knees close to his chest, that you put your fear beside yourself. Yes, at first glance you may have been entirely convinced he was going to tear your throat out, but then you ran your gaze over him a few times… His face was covered in patches of crimson. He was only wearing a green long-sleeved shirt and stripped boxers covered in kittens wearing top-hats. There was a sheet of paper skewered onto one of his horns, and he now was curled up protectively against the wall in a little ball. He was scared.

“Get out,” he demanded. It would’ve been threatening sounding if his lungs didn’t sound as if he swallowed a squeaky toy. He was wheezing, fingertips shaking, his tail protectively curled up against his legs, the tip of it quivering.

To be honest… you wouldn’t leave this room right now for all the Grimm in the Devildom. “I’ll leave after I’m done helping you out a bit,” you assured him, but he didn’t want that answer.

“Get out! Out, out, out!” He clutched another book in his hand and chucked it in your direction with a shout, this time missing you by a mile. You blinked. Was he…having a meltdown?

“Satan, throwing stuff at me isn’t going to make me leave any faster, so cooperate and I’ll be out of here as soon as possible.” You smiled softly at him. Wrath had no retort nor nearby ammo left, so he tucked his face into his knees, letting you get to work. It would take you hours to clean the room, but you did what you could for the moment, tidying up at least the chaos surrounding his bed. How he would’ve slept with that mess on him was beyond your understanding. Or maybe that was one of the reasons why he was being so cranky. Books aren’t exactly great nest material.

You shook off his blankets, puffed up his pillow, and then took a hesitant scan at the medicine you’d put on his nightstand. Lucifer had told you where to get it. Supposedly a powerful medication that tasted as bad as the one taking it felt. It was also administered as a liquid, because for all their power, demons hadn’t made capsules a widespread thing yet. You had no idea how you were going to get Satan to take it.

Maybe being sweet first. “Satan,” you cooed, sitting yourself beside him on the bed while he remained curled up in a tight angry ball. “I have some medicin-“

“No.”

Figures, you were reaching with that one. Maybe begging? “Satan, please, please, please, pleaaaaase take-“

“Bite me.”

You scoffed aloud. He was absolutely, without a doubt, being a brat. On par with Belphie right now. You took a moment to recall how you convinced Lucifer and Mammon. Lucifer was only won over when you stood your ground and told him what to do for a change, challenging his pride. Mammon, you went out of your way to get him things, stoking his greed. With wrath…did you? Time to indulge in a little more sin.

“Satan, I swear to the Father above and Diavolo below, if you don’t quit fighting against me when I’m trying to help you, I’m going to shove this entire freaking thing down your throat till it’s the only thing you can taste for decades!” You raised your voice, shouting at him with a fury in your chest you’d never used before, ever. Especially not against Satan. But, against all odds, you were alive, and instead of smoke coming out of his ears, Satan looked up at you from behind messy bangs. Shocked beyond belief, his mouth slightly ajar, he uncurled himself from his position and sat up slowly, his head looking down.

“Tch.” He puffed air through his teeth, giving in finally. Your attempt, while perhaps mediocre without any demonic snarling and mysterious fog, was successful. You hummed to yourself in glee, taking the cap off the bottle and pouring in the medicine. It smelled God-awful, and you felt sympathy for him, but if it was going to make him feel better, he needed it. You held it up to his lips. He growled in frustration but then parted his mouth to let you pour in the foul mixture.

Already pale skin turned even ashier as the glop slid down past the lump in his throat. He looked like he was going to be sick. He slumped his posture and began to release shuddering coughs that nearly turned to gags. You instinctively put a hand on his back, rubbing up and down along the ridge of his spine. Once he was done with the episode, he sat back up, swaying in his seat back and forth until you held onto him, gently bringing him back down onto his pillow. You moved the hair out of his eyes and sighed in relief. Thanks to whatever magic Devildom medicine had, his redness had already gone drastically down, and he looked fairly calm for now. Mellowed out. Some strong stuff…

His eyelids couldn’t decide if they wanted to be open or shut, struggling to fight sleep. “Rest,” you whispered, getting up off his bed, pulling the covers tighter around him, urging him to go to bed. After you helped him, then you would leave him alone, that’s what you promised… even if you desperately wanted to stay. With a little turn, you picked up the book you had brought with you. He grabbed your wrist before you could even attempt to leave. A tilt of the head, and he sleepily read the cover before letting his hand drop back onto the mattress.

“I bought that…for you,” he mumbled. With a grin, you nodded. He had bought it for you during the adventure to London. It was filled with old fairytales and fables, the authentic gruesome kind, not the kind human kids grew up on. Both had their perks in his mind, but Satan seemed particularly fond of the ones that broke free from the stagnant ‘happily ever after’.

“I brought it here for you to read, but you need sleep. Besides you have plenty of other books here…” Your voice trailed off as you reached for his horn that still had the paper stuck to it. You yanked it free with a light chuckle.

“But…” He wanted to argue, but had no energy left to. “Will you…” Satan started, gripping at his own sheets so tight you thought he would rip holes in them. “Read…to me?” Your heart soared so fast you almost went lightheaded. You sat back down on his bed, fussing over him just a bit more, fixing his messy hair. He groaned as you did but let you do it anyway.

“Of course! I’ll read for you whenever, Satan. Whatever makes you feel better.”

“You…” He almost sounded frustrated, like he couldn’t comprehend how you could be so kind especially after the mood he was just in. Then he settled as you flipped the book open to the first page, recounting terribly sad events with a terribly soft voice. Every so often he’d correct you if you fumbled on a word, or correct the inaccuracies of the story itself, but eventually he went to sleep. His eyeballs moved frantically under his eyelids as he slept. His voice would squeak out some incomprehensible word while he dreamt, his fingers twitching in random increments. You noted that his tail that was draped off the side of the bed was now gently curled against your leg. His demonic appendage was rough, sharp in some places, and yet you could hardly feel it with the way he was holding you now. He was comfortable around you.

You used the stray paper that had been on his head as a bookmark, placing the book back on his nightstand for later. “I guess they all get to live happy ever after this time,” you whispered to him in his unconscious state before you pressed the back of your hand against his cheek. Your knuckles tickled his jawline, making his face twitch closer to your hand. “Sweet dreams, Satan. Feel better.”

Lucifer and Mammon were now considered fully healthy and back on their feet with Satan not too far behind them. For a few days, there was hope that the worst was over. It wouldn’t spread any further. The sound of sniffles and the scent of disinfectant wipes would finally dwindle. But, whenever you hope too hard, things always seem to go in the opposite direction. Hopes were dashed when two people were absent from breakfast one morning, and not too long after Satan had finally returned to the table. The twins had never come down from their shared room. For Belphie, this wasn’t something to stop the presses for. Sleeping in and skipping the morning was his whole shtick. His brothers were usually more concerned when Sloth did show up for breakfast. For Beel, however, to miss any sort of meal? Something had to be wrong.

Putting your fork down, you offered to go check on them. After all, morning breakfast was not the same without the two of them. Lucifer was somehow already out of his chair, gently pushing you back to your seat with a single hand on your shoulder. “Please, let me. If they are sick it’s hard telling how they’ll react. They could just as easily be oversleeping.”

You had wanted to protest, but Lucifer was nothing if not the voice of reason. He was right. You had seen Beel’s hunger-driven rampages before. Demonic destruction wasn’t something to sneeze at- no pun intended. Plus, Lucifer was their brother first-and-foremost whilst you were still just some human that had the luxury of living in their home. That fact and the kinder eyes and soft touch Lucifer had given you had won you over to his words. You could trust him to handle this one… He ambled away from the table, and with a few long steps, exited the room.

Asmo was squirming uncomfortably, audibly whining, clearly disturbed. “I was stupid to think this sickness thing was over! With Beel eating everything down to all your leftovers, it’s no wonder he caught your ugly germs! Then he gave it to Belphie, and next you’ll all give it to me!” He pushed his plate away from him, only having a single bite taken out of his meal.

“You don’t know that they’re sick yet,” Mammon rebutted. “And what do you mean my germs are ugly? Everyone’s are!”

“The likelihood that both of them are ill is high.” Satan sighed, putting down his book he had brought with him. After doing his best to tune them out, it just wasn’t working. He still was weaker than he’d like to be, not to mention drained, but a doctor had confirmed that he was no longer contagious and could continue attending his classes at RAD. “The fridge has been abnormally full and I heard plenty of coughing from Belphie the other day.”

An alarming banging sound came from above their heads, little specks of dust from the ceiling floated down, only just visible in the direct light. As if this proved his theory, Satan gestured towards the noise with a raised hand. He held it up for a moment before his arm dropped into his lap. Another loud crash sounded from above, Satan’s eyelid twitching as Lucifer’s booming voice could be heard throughout the house.

This was enough for Asmo to get up from his spot, shaking his head profusely. “I swear if I catch this thing, all of you are absolutely going to have it, you hear me?!” He choked back a sob and went to leave the room, pulling his sleeve down over his hand as he touched the doorknob.

“Oi, where are you going?” Mammon called after him.

“To take a nice hot sanitizing shower!” The demon of lust slammed the door to the dining hall as you watched more dust sprites dance down from the air. They twirled and pirouetted right over Levi. His nose twitched and he raised his elbow to cover his face as he let out a sneeze.

Levi, the only one who had been quiet this far, finally let out a long groan. He glanced down at his hands fearfully, as if they had been covered with blood. “No… No! No, no, no, I’m sick, I knew it! Of course it would be me! I’m gross and miserable and… do you know how long it takes to fully clean a keyboard?!”

Satan rested his head back in his chair, closing his eyes in annoyance. The ruckus upstairs had gotten worse. It was difficult to tell just from audio alone who Lucifer was wrangling. Maybe both Beel and Belphie at once?… Normally, Satan would work on figuring the little mystery out, but it seemed as if he’d met his limit already. People were fist-fighting, two people were having meltdowns, and it was only breakfast. The intellectual usually had no problem going to classes, enjoyed them more than others actually, and yet the look on his face screamed truancy. “Levi, I doubt you’re sick, you never leave your room,” Satan reasoned.

“I told you all, I think he snuck into my room a little while back! One of my figures was moved! I bet Mammon got his sticky fingers over everything! He gave me the cold!”

Add accusations onto the daily list. They all might end up going though their daily atrocities before lunch today. Now the only three brothers left at the table were verbally sparring, one tense word away from physically— You frowned as your food ended up on the far side of the room along with the table. You thought too soon. Unfortunately, this sort of scenario happened often. So, you excused yourself, knowing none of them were listening, expertly dodging a plate as it whirled past. The dish struck against the wall a few inches from you, luckily not shattering. It clattered to the floor as a waffle slowly slid downwards. While you were still unharmed and food-free, you left the dining room. After wandering the halls trying to find a safe and silent place, you sat yourself on the stone steps of the entryway. You’d just wait for the multiple battles to die down. There was screaming downstairs, crashing upstairs, the whole house in chaos once again.

“Demons…” you sighed. --

Lucifer confirmed it. Beel and Belphie…both of them had caught the cold, and the eldest had spent the past hour or so attempting to force them into taking some medicine. He had succeeded naturally, and you shuddered a bit to think about the sort of tactics he employed, but when all was said and done, he had taken the time to seek you out. It was clear to you that even with all his power and prowess…he was exhausted. With Beel’s physical power and Belphie’s cunning, it seems even Pride had broken a bit of a sweat. There was still plenty of Student Council catchup to be done too… and now he had the twin’s work to start on. He needed a helping hand, and while he didn’t express it bluntly, he did ask for your assistance.

Apparently they were calm now, the medicine lulling and sedating them, so you could see them freely without worry of them tearing you or the house apart. Lucifer still addressed you with a bit of concern. “You’ve been on the brunt of all of this.” On one hand, he appreciated the work you had done. On the other… “I’m concerned for your health. Diavolo was fairly confident you couldn’t get infected, but we still don’t know for certain…” His voice drifted, slightly disappointed in himself, feeling like there was more he should be doing. “Regardless, the last thing we need is for you to fall ill as well.” You persuaded him that if you hadn’t gotten sick yet, you were sure you were immune. You’d been in direct contact with nearly all of them and hadn’t so much as sneezed. Lucifer wasn’t entirely convinced, obviously mentally preparing for the worst of outcomes, but he let you do what you needed to do. And that was taking care of the two youngest.

Homemade soup; the medicine for the soul or so people said. Something comforting and filling yet easy for the stomach. With Satan’s assistance, you concocted the most soothing meal you had ever made. Two steaming bowls were settled on an elegant silver tray and brought it up to the twins room. The door to their bedroom had a golden emblem ingrained in the wood. A moon encircling a sun, resembling the same individual symbols above both their beds. You carefully balanced the tray on your hip for just a moment as you softly tapped your knuckles against the smooth wood. Unlike the other brothers you had cared for so far, someone actually opened the door for you for a change.

Beel looked down at you, eyes heavy and slightly reddened. He was wearing a faded orange t-shirt and some black shorts. Heat radiated off of him in nauseating droves. If you had thought the other brothers had burnt up, nothing compared to Beel’s temperature. Even just standing beside him made you dizzy. As if hellfire was roaring through his veins. His shirt stuck to the skin around his torso, sweat beading down his forehead. His abs and muscles were clearly shown through the fabric, but he didn’t seem to mind. He rubbed one of his eyes with a hand, not even focusing on the soup bowls. “MC, what’re you doing here?”

You lifted up the tray with both hands and presented the meal you made with him. The creamy broth with hearty vegetables and noodles would surely make him feel better. “Soup!” You exclaimed quietly, feeling a mite proud of what you’d created. “You never came down for breakfast so…” You must be hungry, you kept the last part to yourself.

He frowned deeply, being rather dismissive. “I’m not hungry, and Belphie’s asleep.” A simple glance past Beel’s body confirmed that there was indeed a lump in Belphie’s bed. Many lumps in fact. There must’ve been plenty new additions to his pillow collection. “I’m sorry you went through the trouble,” Beel sighed, his arm raised to shut the door. Your attention snapped away from Belphie, back to the demon at hand. Was he shutting you out? Really? He had never done that, ever. All of his other brothers, sure, but him? He always had his door and his arms wide open for you at all times. Your leg served as a quick wedge, feeling your knee temporarily painfully pressed between door and frame. As soon as he realized he was hurting you, the door was thrown back open.

“Beel wait, please, you haven’t eaten all day! How are you going to give your body enough strength to heal if you don’t give it any fuel?” You looked up at him expectantly, trying to convey the care and worry you held for him through your eyes. Beel always advocated for taking care of your body. Those words you shared were the ones he had used on you once before. He was somehow always aware of what you had eaten and when. Same for his brothers. Sure, his sin might take over and he might accidentally eat your food, but he still determined to make sure everyone he cared for was well fed. It was about time you returned the favor.

“But the medicine…” He pressed one hand to his gut, his nose wrinkling up at the mention of food. His normally sturdy legs wobbled as he stumbled a bit, gripping the end of the door-frame for balance. The usual glow in his countenance had gone dull. It broke your heart. Beel seemed to always be strong, always be positive, always have a smile on his face when it came to food and family. Now, he just seemed out of it, eager to head back to bed with both you and proper sustenance on the other side of the door. Curse this tray for occupying both of your hands. You wanted to go wrap him up in your arms and make him feel protected and cared for… even if he was much bigger than you were.

“The medicine might be why you feel sick to your stomach in the first place. You didn’t happen to eat anything before Lucifer gave it to you, did you?” Your words brought his eyes up from staring at the floor and back to you. Orange strands of his hair were freed from the skin on his forehead as he shook his head to your question. An answer wasn’t quite necessary anyway, from the fighting you heard and Lucifer’s brief description, the older brother forced the medicine down both the twins throats before they had a chance to protest. You lifted the tray back up near Beel’s face. The contents of the bowls sloshed enough to almost drip over the edge. “You might feel better if you eat. Even just a little? I… made it for both of you.”

It wasn’t often you attempted to employ the puppy-eyed look. However, it seemed necessary in this instance. All these demons were weak to you, and you knew it. You could only hope it was enough this time… Beel was stuck having an intense internal debate. The door in his hand was creaking open and shut while he decided if he wanted to let you in or not. If he wanted to eat or not… Your heart sank as he seemed to come to the conclusion to prevent you from entering, the door almost clicking back into place to leave you in an empty hallway. If this was what he wanted, could you really change his mind? Just as you were about to leave, the door was pulled back wide open, his eyes a little watery as he made it up in his mind that he could never shut you out like that. Your chest swelled as he let you in, shutting the door quietly behind you.

The room was almost consumed in pitch darkness as soon as the entrance closed. The only light source seemed to be coming from Beel’s side of the room emanating from the screen of his D.D.D. on his nightstand. Crossing the room, you waited until the demon climbed back onto his mattress, sitting up while he pulled the covers over his legs. Not wanting to speak as to disturb Belphie, you extended one finger from the tray handle and pointed at his bed as a question. As he nodded, you settled by his hip, placing the tray on his lap. His blankets were soft, and with a stroke of your hand, you smoothed out some of the wrinkles.

The sight of the soup made Beel grimace at first. He was hesitant, but it was clear he was starving. His sin was tearing him up inside. He was only prolonging the pain. “Is my cooking really that bad?” You frowned, embarrassed, unsure if his reaction was towards your talents in the kitchen or the state of his sickly body.

“No, it’s not that. I just…” Gluttony couldn’t quite find the words to describe what he was feeling. But you understood well enough. You’d been sick before in your life. You knew what it was like to feel the hunger pains alongside the nausea. Eating made you feel worse. Not eating made you feel like hell. He must be miserable. This was probably a rare feeling for him.

“Take it slow,” you whispered, your hand coming up to rub his shoulder.

After taking a minute to mentally prepare, he took your advice to heart, starting with a simple spoonful. He blew away the steam and took the smallest bite- or slurp- you’d ever seen him have. He chewed on some of the softened vegetables before swallowing. There was no need to ask how it was. His head raised back up, small tears making their way down his cheeks. He leaned in towards you, his chin almost resting on your shoulder. “It’s…so delicious. May I…eat it?”

You chuckled, grinning with relief as a little bit of color came back to his face, his expression not looking so pained. Sounded like he was already breathing easier too. “Yes, Beel, I made it for you.”

He sat up away from you, the happy glow returned to his eyes as he went to work not only downing the bowl for him, but the bowl for Belphie as well. You made a mental note to come take care of the other twin later. Hopefully he wouldn’t end up sleeping for days on end like he’d been known to do a few times before… With one of the twins looking already worlds better with some warm food in his stomach, you went to go stand up to leave, but two big arms wrapped around your body to hold you in place. The hot skin on Beel’s cheek pressed against your forehead as he sighed in relief.

“Thank you,” he mumbled.

You rested your head against his chest as he held you even tighter. “You’re welcome, Beel. I’ll be your personal chef till you feel better.”

With a contented sigh, Beel buried his nose in your hair, his hands gripping your shirt. He leaned back against his headboard, bringing you along with him as you almost laid on top of him. It didn’t seem like he was going to let you go anytime soon. He closed his eyes and with one hand he flipped his D.D.D over so there was nothing but blackness in the room. Relaxed lungs brought in deep even breaths. He was still ridiculously hot, but not unbearably so anymore. His words devolved into sleepy mumbles. “You’re so much better than any food in the world…”

The twins were sick, Lucifer was working himself ragged, and the rest of the brothers were avoiding their siblings like…well…like the plague. You never initially intended to become a nurse, but how could you sit by and do nothing while the demons around you that you had come to care for suffered? And, if you were being honest with yourself, you were thankful that there was something you could do to help around for once. It wasn’t often at all where you were put in a situation where you could be the protector, the helper, the one they relied on. However, as much as you liked that feeling, you hoped this spreading sickness would end with Beel and Belphie. The constant care you were dishing out was starting to leave you more exhausted than normal.

Telling anyone about your state though would most likely end in immediate termination of your new career in demon caretaking. So you kept it to yourself. These brothers were now leaning on you harder than ever, including the ones who had already been sick. Just the thought of all their faces, pale and sick in bed, lighting up at the sight of you entering the room as you pet their heads sent tingles down your spine. You wanted to take care of them…all of them, forever.

You violently shook your own head as you gripped the handle to your bedroom. What am I thinking? Is the Florence Nightingale trope really true? The door gently creaked open as you stepped inside.

Eternal moonlight had it perks, but being able to tell time was never one of them. What hour was it now? Your day had been occupied fulfilling several requests from the many members of the household. The typically hungry demon would now only eat food you made for him, and while you did promise to be his personal chef, it was beginning to overwhelm you. Not only chef, but you’d been hired in several other new ‘departments’. You’d become the new mailman, bringing packages from the front door to the otaku with severe hypochondriac tendencies. The librarian and storyteller for the bookworm who was milking his symptoms for as long as he could, partially because he truly enjoyed your company, but also because he enjoyed his brother’s complaints as he kept you to himself. The beauty product tester and fashion assistant for Asmo who refused to let any of his brothers touch him with a ten foot pole. The lawyer for Mammon who was apparently determined to get himself into trouble more so than not lately. And also Lucifer’s new temp secretary. You had so many reminders set on your phone for things he needed to get done. But the eldest was determined not to let things fall apart just because a few of his brothers were ill.

Should you be getting paid for this?…

Tired feet were dragged across the floor of your bedroom as you made your way towards your bed. It called to you; a sleepy siren’s song. The blankets reminiscent of a sweet melody, the pillows the alluring notes. With the last of your energy, you swiftly kicked off your shoes, letting them roll and settle crookedly on the hardwood floor. You let yourself fall face first onto your bed, the springs bouncing you up and down gently from the sudden impact. A moan escaped your lips, one you never had the intention for, but your body betrayed you. Laying down felt nice… Rain and wind outside started to kick up, the sound brushing and pouring against your window. It was like the night was comforting you, the weather speaking to you softly. It’s okay to get some rest.

Without bothering to change into pajamas, you crawled under your covers, pulling the blanket tightly near your face. Muscles and joints in your body started to ache, and you furrowed your brows as you shut your eyes. Had you really worked all that much? What exactly did you do that forced your body to feel this sore? You let out a sigh and brushed your cheek against your pillow. Already, the back of your mind was buzzing with sleep, and even if you tried to come up with some specific answer explaining why your body hurt in places you didn’t even know existed, you wouldn’t be able to. This would probably been the fastest you fell asleep in a long time, conking out without a second thought. —-

Fire haunted your dreams that night, the heat making you lightheaded. Your subconscious body struggled to navigate the obstacles of this place. The House of Lamentation was on fire, by reasons unknown, as dreams often do. You were frantically looking for the brothers, your mind thoroughly convinced they all still resided inside. Lips moved as you could’ve sworn you were screaming their names, but the roaring sounds of the flames muffled your voice. No matter how hard you squeezed your lungs, no sound came out. You felt yourself collapse to the ground, unable to move. You were hot. Too hot. You-

A low scraping noise shocked your body awake. It took you a moment to reel in reality, to settle yourself back into your senses, the dream drifting far behind you now. A squeak sounded. A harsh squealing grind of two hard surfaces rubbing against each other. It left a strange feeling in your teeth and pumped your mind with adrenaline. You sat up in bed immediately, the alarm for danger blaring on high alert.

It was hard to see through all the darkness. Clouds had covered the moonlight, leaving little to no light to guide your way. The only thing you could see with your adjusting vision was a shadow creeping around your room. It staggered. Drifting around as if searching for something, a deep inhuman growl rumbling through it’s disfigured body. Your fingers trembled as the sound echoed in your mind. How had it gotten in the house? There were no distinct features you could make out, the creature didn’t have any limbs. It was one giant blob, dragging itself across the floor, moving and knocking over the chairs in your room as it did so. That must’ve been the cause of the sound that woke you up. Was it hunting for something?…

A few options for survival bubbled up in your mind. Screaming for help wasn’t a smart decision. One loud noise, and the creature would more than likely beeline it straight for you. Besides, with the demon brother’s sporadic schedules, you weren’t sure anyone would hear you anyway. Your room was all the way down near the kitchen…your roommates blissfully asleep upstairs. You had half a mind to text someone to save you, but if you got caught in the light from your screen, that might also cause an instant game over. However, that did remind you to lean over to put your device on silent. You would not be that stupid survivor in the horror trope that got killed due to a notification. Oh, if only you had given in to Lucifer’s odd request to install some sort of security system. You had denied it. Said it sounded more like a baby monitor than anything else. Now look where it got you.

The intruder seemed distracted and confused, just as blinded as you were in the darkness. Maybe you could make a run for it… it seemed rather sluggish. But assuming things could get you killed. But what other options did you have?… Right now, the thing was finally drifting away from the table and towards the middle of the room, inching ever closer to your bed. The luxury of time was not something you had. It was settled. You’d book it out of here and run to someone else’s room… Just look for an opportunity… The wailing mass was getting closer. Just a few more seconds. Your heart was rattling harder than the wind against your windows. Just a little bit farther! Heat was waving off the creature and onto you, reminding you of your dream. It moaned unnaturally, shuffling slowly, wandering without a purpose. You quietly swung your legs over the end of the bed so you could finally make your dash to freedom. The blood pumping through your head was deafening.

A thud reverberated throughout the room, making you jump, freezing your body in place. The creature had collapsed on your floor. It slowly squirmed, writhing, it’s shape melting away before a humanoid hand poked out of it’s frame.

“O…w…”

The familiar voice washed over you in a refreshing shower of familiarity. You pressed a hand to your chest as you took in a deep relaxing breath. Although you didn’t waste too much time before rushing to the floor, kneeling beside the shape. The shell it had shed felt soft. You grabbed the surface with both of your hands, peeling it back to reveal a confused disoriented demon.

“Belphie…” You nearly went off on him, ready to spend the rest of the night giving him a Lucifer-style lecture. But, too tired to do something like that, you simply wrapped your arms around the seventh brother. Eyes rolled in your head, embarrassed and annoyed by your own paranoia and stupidity. Although that sort of paranoia had let you live in the Devildom thus far. That and a ridiculous amount of luck… Though if the other brothers found out you mistook Belphie and a puffy duvet for some sort of lumbering undead slug-monster, they would never let you live it down. Speaking of which…you suddenly remembered that he’d taken quite a tumble. “Are you okay?” He never answered, but you quickly found the source of his fall. The shoes you had left haphazardly on the floor. You bit your lip in a bit of shame. Before they could claim another victim, you snagged your shoes and tucked them away in a not so trippable place. Then you returned your focus near the lump. “Belphie? What’re you doing here?” You placed a soft hand on his shoulder, although as you did, you nearly reeled back. Sloth was burning up.

“…anna…o…ome…” He mumbled, not focused on you at all, his eyes were even still closed. Chipped nails clawed at your rugs, pushing himself on his arms just to collapse again. Your chest squeezed as you grabbed his arms. Convinced he was still asleep, you tried shaking him, feeling the palms of your hands tingle against his unhealthy and infernal temperature.

“Belphie!”

None of your attempts to wake him up were working, so you turned your attention to the only thing you could do. Bringing his heat down. The blanket you had tried tugging off of him was somehow twisted around his limbs. After turning him on his back, you worked on unraveling him, feeling his hands paw at your body. He was deep in some fever dream, one bad scene away from thrashing… Frantically, you plucked a pillow from off your own bed and tucked it under his head. You brushed sticky strands of hair off his forehead, watching him mumble some more.

“..illith…Beel…”

Might as well have heard your own heart crack right then, but you couldn’t let it get to you. Feeling against the walls, you moved around your room till you found the light switch. Once you could see, you went right to work. Thankfully, due to your efforts before, you now kept extra medicine and supplies in your room. It was actually Satan who suggested it, and while you thought it had been a silly idea, now you were grateful.

When you returned to Belphie’s side with all your items, you almost regretted turning the light on. Panting, his mouth open to try and breathe, lips so dry they were nearly bloody. His skin was covered in splotches of color, sweat dripping from his forehead, yet he couldn’t stop shivering. You placed a bowl of water, rags, medicine, bottles of water, and a glass of only ice beside you on the floor. As soon as you returned to his vicinity, his limbs moved to get up again. You settled a rag in the water then gently pushed him back to the floor with a single hand. He contorted and attempted to roll as you quickly wrung out the rag, pressing it against his forehead, keeping him against the ground using your own body. In only a few seconds, the cloth was completely warm. You dipped it back in, feeling a bit of panic rise in your lungs as Belphie continued to pant.

“Breathe…Belphie, breathe.” You rubbed his chest as you held him down, cooling off his face and neck with the damp cloth. You didn’t know how long you kept up this motion. Comfort, dip, cool. Soothe, wipe, cool. Over and over as the fire in him refused to leave. He needed to wake up to take the medicine, you weren’t sure you could get it down his throat in this condition. You let your hand drift from his chest for just a second to check your D.D.D. It was now four in the morning. A full hour of this, by your estimations. Should you text someone? Were you doing the right thing? Were you just making things worse? You fought with yourself and your emotions for a few more minutes, but then felt your worry assuage. It seemed as if he broke though the worst all in a second. Belphie’s breathing wasn’t as ragged as he no longer gasped for breath. He was still moving a bit though, wearily and weakly.

“Ahh…haah…” He wheezed, and for what felt like the hundredth time, you rubbed his cheeks with the wet fabric, brushing your hand back and forth across his chest. He raised his arms and grabbed your shirt and sleeve, trying to pull you close in his sleep.

“Shh, it’s alright.” His hands were trembling against you, but finally, he seemed to hear your words. The smallest slit of his eyes was visible as he did his best to open them.

“M…C…”

Overjoyed tears stung your eyes. The rag in your hand dropped to the floor as you caressed his face with your hands. He still wasn’t quite awake or aware, but he was attentive enough to try to pull himself up, still clutching tightly onto your clothes. The first thing on your mind was medicine. You filled up the measured cap and brought it to him, tilting his head back with the brace of one of your hands. Thankfully--or perhaps worriedly--he took it without questioning it. He grimaced a little, but the bitter and awful taste of the medicine brought him more into reality.

“Where?” He released your sleeve as he rubbed his eyes.

“That’s not important right now, can you stand? We should get you to bed.” You stroked his head, but he didn’t even seem to notice. He just nodded, and with your assistance, he almost managed to fully stand. To keep from falling over, he leaned his body against you. It was all you could do to keep from collapsing yourself. Fortunately, your bed was right here, and you let him plop into your space. A sigh left his shallow lungs.

With what little energy he had left, he practically clawed himself towards the far side of the bed turning in several agonizing increments to face you. He held out his hands and squeaked out your name. “MC…”

Your emotions hitched in your chest as you watched him beg for you. There was still a mess on the floor… but you left it where it was as long as the universe was done sending demons tumbling through your room. You rushed over to the light switch and turned the brightness off. You slid into the extra space Belphie left for you, taking him into your arms and feeling him immediately get comfortable. At least he was no longer boiling. He was a little too warm, but nothing life threatening.

He curled up by your side, as you pulled up the covers over both of you. With a few sleepy nudges, he had his head tucked under your chin. You could hear air rattle around in his chest, so you reached around his body and rubbed his back, and in return, he squeezed you like one of his many pillows. All at once, the adrenaline and panic left your body, leaving you winded and exhausted. You were unsure if it was Belphie’s Sin or simply your body at it’s breaking point, but you couldn’t keep yourself awake any longer. Before you could make sure he fell asleep first, your eyelids crashed closed as you passed out next to him.

Normalcy slowly began to trickle back into the House of Lamentation. The twins were feeling better, most everyone was returning to classes, routines were falling back into place. Everyone was finally convinced this was all over. Even Lucifer, who liked to account for the worst, was acting rather optimistic lately. Although you yourself, who had loved soaking up every sickly cuddle and embarrassing (and rather blackmailable) favors, was secretly a bit disappointed. It was great that they were all doing better! But…perhaps part of you liked feeling needed.

Lucifer, Mammon, and Satan, were all well past this illness, and with Levi and Asmo doing everything they could to avoid their siblings, it was assumed that this misadventure had burnt itself out with the twins. Although, one person in the household was determined not to let this go. Levi was doing his best to convince everyone that he was extremely ill.

“I searched my symptoms on SpiderWeb MD! If I’m not sick I’ve been cursed and I only have a few days left to live!” he would complain. His siblings were all convinced that Envy had caught nothing but a terrible case of hypochondria. At one point, he’d even sent his last will through the group chat should he perish an untimely demise. A lot of his stuff went to you, which was deeply touching considering he had a hard enough time letting you look at his stuff much less touch it. Music records would go to Lucifer, manga to Satan, cosplay outfits to Asmo, his special snacks to Beel, and his body pillows to Belphie. Nothing was left for Mammon, which caused a small riot in itself.

It had been several days since anyone had seen or heard any trace of Levi. Everything he needed could be ordered on Akuzon, and he’d been taking classes exclusively online. It got to the point where everyone had been certain he’d never leave his room again. Of course, the eldest had checked on his little brother regardless, but he’d been written off with a clean bill of health. After that, Lucifer had been convinced he was just craving attention. Levi would hole himself away over the vaguest sign of symptoms and not come out till he was ready. No one believed him. For a while, they had you convinced as well, assuring you that he hadn’t been sick for centuries. There was nothing to be worried about. However, you still carried that worry with you, that infuriating kind of angelic trust that drove the brothers crazy. But ‘what if’, you wondered, what if he’s sitting in his room right now with no one to help him?

The only semblance of interaction you’d had with Levi in the past week was dropping off his Akuzon packages to the front of his door. You’d knock, be forced to ramble off an impossibly confusing password, and then leave for him to drag his packages inside. The first time you’d done it, you’d waited, only to watch him pop his head meekly out the door. Upon seeing you, he squeaked and promptly slammed the door shut. Now he would wait for you to fully depart before grabbing his loot. But today, you were determined to see him. Sure he was a demon, sure everyone had promised he was fine, but something left you uneasy. You needed to see with your own eyes that he was okay.

Making your way down the hall, continuously shifting your arms to keep things balanced, you approached Levi’s room with several packages in hand. The number of items he purchased was getting larger and more concerning with each delivery. Seeing as your hands were occupied, you gently kicked his door three times with the tip of your shoe. You crouched down low near the floor, placing his items neatly in a pile. Stiffly, you uttered the strange password Levi encouraged you to memorize to confirm the drop-off and assure him there was no one else in sight.

“The water dragon, caretaker of the mystic lakes, looks up to the heavens…” You paused, waiting for his response. A few seconds. Then a minute. You couldn’t help but raise a brow as a little jolt went through your chest with worry. Typically by now, Levi would be in the middle of his segment of the password. This all was routine. Taking a few steps forward, you pressed your ears to the cold wood of his door. All was silent. From the top? You walked a few steps away just to round the door again, making your footsteps heavier, louder. Then you attempted the entire process again. Using your fist this time, you knocked loudly against the entrance to his fortress of solitude. Uttering the incantation once more, you found yourself almost shouting the code phrase. There was still no response.

Throwing caution to the wind, you gave yourself access into his room. You winced once the light from inside hit your face, expecting some sort of curse or hex to flood your body. Air soothed your lungs when you discovered you were relatively unharmed. It didn’t require any amount of searching to locate the demon. Curled up, in demon form…at the bottom of his fish tank. Of course, you knew these people were not quite people, but that didn’t stop your stomach from flipping and your human brain to somersault over itself in panic. That wasn’t normal! You stammered over your words, dashing forward to press your palms against the glass.

“Levi! What the-” You cut yourself off as you looked around for anything that could assist you with this…emergency. Underwater! He was underwater!

How many times have you been scolded for acting before thinking? Too many to count, especially down here where the wrong misstep could kill you easily. Did you still end up jumping into the fish tank? Yes. Yes, you did. Using Levi’s desk and shelves, you climbed up, throwing your body into the water. It wasn’t as cold as you expected it to be based on how chilly Levi kept his room. It was a bit nippy, but nothing terrible. You sunk down, grabbing the horns sticking from Levi’s head. God, how were you going to pull him out of here? This tank was the size of his wall! As soon as you began to tug on the horns, Levi’s eyes snapped open. His tail wrapped around your waist once he recognized your face. You ended up getting flung out of the tank, dangling in the air a few inches above the ground as the chill of the oxygen on your wet skin formed goosebumps all over your body. Levi gripped the edge of the glass.

“What?! I-I- that was totally- MC! I can’t believe-” He settled you to the ground as he climbed his way out of the water, almost slipping and falling from the tank. A large pool formed on the floor beneath your feet. As he tried to find his words, gasping in shock at finding you in Henry 2.0’s tank, he started coughing. He bowled over, his arm covering his mouth as his lungs squeaked and wheezed as he seemed to cough uncontrollably. Levi’s chest began convulsing so painfully, tears started speckling from his eyes, only to get swept up into the moisture already streaming down his face. His tail, still around your body, clutched to you tighter, like an involuntary form of comfort for him.

“Levi…” You approached the demon of Envy, both of you dripping wet, and you pressed your forehead to his. Despite having soaked in water for however long he had been in there, he was burning. His little gasp at your form of contact drove him further into his coughing fit. You apologetically rubbed his back, helping him catch his breath while you scrambled around to get dry clothes, nearly losing your footing on the wet tile.

“Don’t!” He pleaded with you as you pulled open his drawers.

“You need dry clothes, you’ll get even sicker if you’re soaking!” His face started to flush as some color came to his cheeks. He had yet to relinquish his tail from around your person, wrapping around you tightly like the firm squeeze of a hug, following you around like a drenched puppy. “Why in the world were you in the fish tank anyway?!” A proper scolding was in order. After all, how ridiculous had that been? “I was worried you’d drowned…” You muttered that last part to yourself as you plucked out a t-shirt with the decal on the front from some anime you couldn’t recall. A random pair of shorts was added to the mix, throwing the dry outfit to him alongside a much needed towel. Clutching the articles of clothing to his chest, he blushed even harder. The muscles of his tail forced you to turn with your face to the wall as you felt the soft scales finally slink away. You could hear him stumble around as he struggled to get himself dressed. He wasn’t acting like normal.

At that moment, all the guilt that had been building up these past few days washed over you. He really had been sick after all. How long had he been here alone, taking care of himself because no one would believe him enough to take care of him? But Lucifer had said he’d been checked… Did he get sick after that? Or was there something someone missed? Although, the when didn’t quite matter now. No chance fretting too much over something you couldn’t change. You had the chance to help him now.

“I was hot…” Levi answered, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Then next time hop in the bath! Don’t go scuba diving in a fish tank! A fish tank, Levi!”

It was as if you could feel him wincing at your firm words. It wasn’t often you raised your voice at them. Envy wasn’t taking the tone too well, shuddering as he inhaled broken quivering breaths. He didn’t have an answer for you on why he made the decision he did. Rationalization probably went out of his mind once the fever set in. Had he really been that hell-bent on not leaving his room? “You can…look now.” Turning away from the wall, you found yourself tutting. Levi had put the clothes over his wet form, the towel simply lying on top of his head, the horns holding it comically up away from his body.

“…I should’ve been here to help you.” You placed your hands over the dry cloth, getting it away from his branching horns, gently rubbing into his skin. Too weak to shoo you away or say anything about it, he simply covered his face with his hands as you used the towel to dry him off. “But I’m here now…and you don’t have to worry as long as I’m here. I’ll take care of you.” You started with his hair, working your way down to his arms. Your gentle motions, your soft tone, your overall comfort, it was enough to weaken his walls of anxiety. A few steps and he was right next to you. He slumped, letting his head fall into the crook of your neck. Your skin was still cool from the water, and he sighed as his forehead came into contact with it. His tail ended up curling around you once more, clutching your torso tightly as he gripped onto your clothes. “Come on,” you urged him, leading him over to his bedding. It was better than the fish tank only by a small margin, containing a ton of pillows and several plush blankets to act as a cushion inside. At least it was dry…

“Sorry…” Levi gasped, as he lifted himself into his nest. The tickle of his word turned into more harsh coughs. You leaned over the porcelain walls of the tub to pet his head. He nearly melted into your hands. He curled up, nestling further into the cushions as you pulled a blanket partially over him.

“Don’t be sorry. I should be sorry. I shouldn’t have doubted you, I should’ve been by your side by square one. That’s what people who care about you do…” You gave him a sweet smile as he teared up a little, pulling a body pillow close to his chest as he covered his face. He simply gave you a hum in response. “I’ll go get some medicine and bring in those packages for you, and then I’ll be right back.” Taking a step back, you felt the tail wrapped around your body gripping you tighter. “Levi,” you cooed, petting the smooth scales with your hand. “I’ll be right back, let me go.” He reluctantly complied, silently pulling his tail into the tub with him, curling around his own body for support. Running your fingers through your still wet hair, you went back out to the hall, dragging Levi’s packages into his room before setting off to grab some medicine. A quick sneeze shuttered your body, leaving you lightheaded as you leaned against the wall to keep yourself upright. A chill ran through your spine. Shaking your head, you picked up the pace to your bedroom to change into warm and dry clothes.

As soon as you were no longer dripping, you grabbed the medicine bottle from off the table in your room. Collectively, the household had almost gone through the entire container, leaving only a few servings left. You bit your lip and then briskly headed back to Levi. In the short amount of time you’d been gone, it seemed as if he already drifted off to sleep. You shut the door behind you as softly as you could manage, then came over to the sleeping otaku. All these demons, you recalled, claimed to be so scary and intimidating, yet all of them managed to look something like this. Levi was clutching his tail, his forehead pressed against the coolness of the side of the tub. It felt like a crime to wake him, but you brushed your hand against his cheek anyway.

“Levi… Levi?” You called, watching his eyelids flitter as they slowly opened. “Here, take this, it’ll help you feel better.” You held a capful of the remedy to his lips. A flicker of stubbornness and defiance flashed in his eyes, but he knew he couldn’t say no to you, especially with how nicely you were treating him. He’d take it with a smile if you had asked him too. Placing the medicine aside, you turned down the lights in his room, watching the reflection of the water dance across the ceiling. “Is there anything else I can do for you, Levi?”

You heard him squeak before he spoke. “You cuddled with each of my brothers…”

Stifling a chuckle, you merely blinked at him. “You want me to cuddle with you?”

He used his arm to cover his eyes. “Y-you said it, not me!”

“Move over then,” you grinned, lifting your leg over the lid of the tub to make your way in. It was a bit awkward, being a bathtub and all. There wasn’t as much space as you expected. The sloped sides guided you into Levi’s body, where you could feel every muscle inside him tense. “Alright, here we go, sleep will make you feel better.” You rested your head right next to his, noses almost touching. His lip twitched in embarrassment, but once more he pressed his forehead against your neck, exhaling deeply as he allowed his body to relax. “There you go…” You rubbed his back as he got in close. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Time as Levi’s nurse passed fairly quickly. Apparently regular doses of constant attention was the best kind of medicine for a touch-starved demon. He was still weaker than anyone would enjoy, but he was back in front of his screens in no time. Although, every so often he’d give you a side glance and rattle his body with a loud cough. Sometimes he would do this and cause the other previous afflicted to do the same. You’d even caught Lucifer clearing his throat in your vicinity once. They were all milking this to the last drop. Aside from the pseudo-symptoms, at last, it was all over. Surely, tonight you’d finally let your sore exhausted body get some rest with the relief in knowing that whatever demon illness had been plaguing the brothers was finally gone… Even cases in the Devildom were dropping. The whispers at RAD were returning to normal discussions. The worst was over.

That was… until everyone in the House of Lamentation was awoken one night to a blood-curdling scream. You awoke in a sweat, hair on your arms standing up on end. Before you could comprehend anything, you dashed out to the hallway, apparently the last to join the stunned members of the household. Mammon was still attempting to find balance on his feet, cursing about one of his legs being asleep. Levi rubbed his eyes, and you couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. He was supposed to be regaining his strength. Satan looked more intrigued than anything. Beel was ready for action, but, surprisingly enough, Belphie looked more awake than anyone before you. These were his hours, you supposed. Lucifer was a strange combination of furious due to having his rest be interrupted--he barely gets enough as it is--and concerned.

“MC…” The eldest instinctively took a step towards you. “Oh, thank Diavolo,” he sighed, pressing his hand to his forehead, quelling the stress headache, thankful you weren’t the cause of the haunting wail. “We’ve got…” He began the head check, ushering his brothers closer to him much like a teacher making sure the whole class was there for the field trip. The realization hit you at the same moment it hit him. “Asmo.” No one hesitated in dashing to his room, the adrenaline pumping in you more as the sound of shattering glass and splintering wood reached your ears. Worry clamped your throat shut, forgetting how to properly breathe as the group sprinted down the halls.

Mammon was the first to reach the door, throwing all caution to the wind as he immediately kicked the wood in. The entrance hit the floor with a loud bang, coming clean off it’s hinges, and you attempted to peer in. A firm hand grabbed you by the back of the collar and yanked you back. Lucifer pulled you behind his body. Just in time too, for just at that moment, an entire dresser launched itself from the bedroom, smacking against Mammon, pinning him against the back wall of the hallway. Every square inch of you was desperate to scream, to run to Greed, but the demon of pride had you held tightly against his body. Mammon got up off the floor, shaking his head. There were no visible injuries, in fact, he was barely even bothered, just frustrated.

“For the love of... Asmo!” The second brother growled, and another shriek echoed through the halls, shaking the windows. You brought your hands up to cover your ears, and Lucifer quickly handed you off to Levi.

“What’s happening?” The strength of your legs began to waver, and, for a split second, the eldest’s eyes grew wide at your distress. Of course you wouldn’t know, how could you? Sometimes he forgets you’re only a human.

Placing a gentle hand on your head, he let out another sleep-deprived groan, pinching the bridge of his nose whilst his siblings dashed into the chaos. “It’s what we all feared. Asmo has fallen ill. It happens once every few centuries, and every time it happens, it gets—“ Something else broke to pieces, shrapnel embedding itself in the door-frame. A mess. “Stay with Levi. We’ll work on calming him down.” With that, he turned and swiftly joined the fray. A swirl of blue magic surrounded the door, lifting it from it’s position, settling back against the frame to shield you out while shouts and bangs rattled the ground. All you could do was blink in frightful awe and flinch at every awful sound.

“C-come on, it’s best if we go…N-now. Like, right now,” Levi breathed, his voice shaking with terror. You raised an eyebrow, trying to piece together why he sounded as if he was in danger.

You didn’t have the time to question why. The wall separating the room from the hallway nearly crumbled, bricks and rubble coating the floor. Peachy eyes glowed harshly against the dark of night. “Levi…” The figure growled maliciously as the dust settled. “You did this to me…you all did this to me!” Ah, right. Of course the blame would lie with the most recently infected. And now you were standing right next to the target.

“Oi!”

In a swirl of motion, demons rushed to tackle him down, but not before the person behind the destruction began to lunge in yours and Levi’s direction. The third-born twisted his body, beginning to pull you behind him to shield you, but your body moved almost on its own. Tugging yourself out of Levi’s grip, you moved forward with an outstretched arm. “Asmo!” The palm of your hand came into contact with his chest. You felt the frantic beating of his heart. Everything seemed to stop all at once. The rampage put itself at pause as Asmo looked at you with wide eyes, his hands still raised, razor sharp claws atoms away from brushing against your skin. With your hand on his chest, you could tell that he’d stopped breathing. You took this moment to observe his face. Nose red, eyes puffy from angry tears, overall looking drained, missing vibrancy. The glimmer you so often associated with Asmo was gone.

The demon of lust took one last moment to recollect his thoughts, gathering back his composure before giving a loud horrified gasp of a breath before his knees gave out, his body collapsing to the floor.

--

“Absolutely, positively, one of the worst decisions you’ve ever made!” You’d beg to differ, there was a list of misadventures you could bring to the table, but now was definitely not the time for that. “Did you even think?!” You tried to open your mouth but were cut short. “Don’t answer that.” Good call. Lucifer looked beyond frazzled, and as you watched him pace back and forth in front of you, you wondered if those were new grey strands in the fringes of his hair or if it was simply your imagination. He’d been stepping back and forth for so long, you’d almost gotten dizzy from the motion. Perfectly on beat. A living pendulum.

But Lucifer wasn’t the only one here to…critique your…survival response--or questionable lack thereof. “What do you do when you see an angry demon? Hm?” Real rich coming from Wrath. Satan’s eyebrow was twitching, but he was doing his utmost best to stay calm unlike his older brothers.

You lowered your head. “You run.”

“What do we not do?”

“…Confront them.” The blonde nodded, leaving it at that for the time being. With a quick scan around the room, he tilted his head and sat in a chair, biting back one of his usual retorts. Typically, he wouldn’t hesitate to be snippy, especially considering his sibling’s current behaviors, but he didn’t have the heart for it. Not right now when he was focusing hard on suppressing the bubbling rage of what he’d just observed. Levi was a dazed mess, sulking at his failed job as a bodyguard, slung over Beel’s shoulder, muttering endlessly. The demon of gluttony himself had yet to peel his sight from you since you’d been dragged back to your room. Had he even blinked? It was as if he was wary that, should he look away, even for a moment, you’d do something reckless again. To be fair, logically, what you’d done had been a rather idiotic move. In your defense, it was also dipping well past the early hours of the morning. It all still felt like a dream. They couldn’t hold it against you for not being at your peak… But, they were right. Had Asmo not been able to stop himself, who knows what the outcome would’ve been. You still weren’t quite sure of everything that had happened, but something had moved you, convinced you that if you just…reached out to him…

Turning your head to the side, you brushed your hand over the bump in the blankets where his arm was. As soon as he’d collapsed, both you and Asmo were briskly brought to your room. You’d been able to assist in tucking him under your covers for only a moment before being scolded six different ways. Belphie placed a fresh cold rag over Asmo’s forehead, meeting your eyes for just a second before snapping his head to look away from you with the slightest hint of a disappointed pout in his lips. Even the bratty youngest sibling was chastising you. And Mammon…Mammon was…dead silent, still as a stone, back turned to you as he pressed his face against the wall. If anything, that upset you the most.

Speaking loudly as to regain their attention, you apologized. “I’m sorry! I know it was dumb of me, but…” Asmo’s eyebrows scrunched, a painful moan rumbling in his throat. You adjusted your seated spot on the bed, sitting closer to his body, settled by his thigh. Placing your hand over the comforter covering his chest, you stroked up and down in a slow soothing rhythm. His head moved to find a cooler, more comfortable spot on the pillow, and with the comforting motion against his body, he went still with rest again. “He sounded heartbroken.”

The room fell silent, Lucifer stopped his pacing. Everyone’s shoulders slumped, and then finally Mammon spoke up. “Heartbroken?! That scream meant nothin’! He’s just being dramatic over his dumb face! Losing control like that…almost hurting you because he doesn’t look photo-ready… Nothing’s worth getting yourself killed over! Nothing!” Mammon’s words… sunk in the deepest. Or his tone did at least. He was truly upset with you. Lucifer raised his arm a bit towards Mammon, signaling to settle down. Mammon scoffed and turned again, letting it go.

“Okay… I get it… but enough worrying about me, you should be worried for your brother.” The fire of conflict was quickly snuffed out by your shining eyes and Asmo’s little whimpers.

Lucifer rolled his head around his shoulders and then rubbed away the little pang behind his temples. “I’ll go let Diavolo know of the situation. I’m sure after the last few weeks he won’t be surprised…” He grumbled something under his breath one last time before he left the room, D.D.D. in hand.

“I suppose I can do my best to help clean Asmo’s room. He might recover quicker in a familiar environment.” Satan got to his feet, stretching, cracking an eye open to look at Mammon before grabbing him by the back of his shirt. “And you’re going to help me.”

“O-oi! Why me?! Hold on! I haven’t said everything I needed to yet!” But his cries were ignored as the demon of wrath dragged him down the hallway.

Now you were left with the afflicted, the twins, and a still sorrowful Levi. They might not listen to you at the moment, but you had to try. “Beel, can you please take Levi to his room? And Belphie can you please make sure he goes to sleep?” The fiery-haired sibling nodded, shifting his older brother to his other shoulder. Belphie still had his head turned away from you. Your heart fell a bit. “Pretty please?”

He made the mistake of getting a quick peek of your pleading face. “You have to come with us.”

“But, we can’t just leave him.” You brushed the back of your hand against Asmo’s cheek, reeling back as the heat from him almost burnt you. Demonic bodies could reach some serious temperatures.

This only convinced Belphie to squint harder. “He’s dangerous.”

“You’re all dangerous and yet apparently it doesn’t seem to phase me anymore.” At times like these, you found standing your ground and just being stubborn was enough to win you plenty of debates with these eternal beings. Although you didn’t want to push your luck too much. They could physically remove you from the room if they so desired. Luckily, Belphie was much too tired to continue bickering.

“Fine, but you owe me.”

You beamed, coaxing a touch of pink in his cheeks. “Thank you!” He slinked away, his twin following after him with Levi in tow.

A frown stretched over your face. With the added noise gone, Asmo’s shallow wheezing breaths were all too apparent. You got to your feet, flipping the rag draped across his head to the other side, then padded over to the cupboard settled against the far side of the room. It opened with a slight squeak, causing you to wince as you glanced back over your shoulder to make sure your patient was still sleeping. Luckily, he didn’t stir, although for this to work, he might have to. You gripped the medicine bottle in your hand, giving it a slight shake. There was enough for perhaps one or two more administrations. Before you dealt with that issue, you quickly went to turn off the overhead light in your room, simply turning on a side lamp, a soft glow illuminating what you needed it to. Your eyes thanked you for the lessened strain. As you turned on the pads of your feet, you noticed Asmo was now on his side, facing away from you. With a few quiet steps, you were back at the bedside. “Asmo?”

Your fingers outstretched, reaching for his shoulder, but he would not let you near him. “Don’t look at me!” The voice was strong enough to push you back, falling back onto the floor. A high pitched noise caught your attention. The glass in your hand as well as your mirror on the other side of the room had a new thin crack in it.

The heart in your chest was pounding, but you tried to shake out of it. “Asmo, fighting me is taking up your strength.” Cradling the medicine bottle against your chest, you got back to your feet.

Asmo pulled the covers up over his head. “Don’t look at me, don’t look at me, don’t look at me!” You’d shifted your stance beforehand to keep your balance, the wave of magic wobbling you, but not knocking you over. The lights flickered, and with it, you caught an idea.

“What if I turn the lights off? I won’t look at you, okay? I just want to help you feel better.” Keeping your sight on him, you walked backwards. As your hip met the furniture, you swiveled to turn the lamp off. It just so happened to be cloudy tonight, the dark clouds coating the moon, again, much like the night Belphie had sleepwalked into your room, only now you were the one stumbling towards the figure in the bed. You walked forward slowly until your knees came into contact with the mattress. Even here you could feel the rolling waves of heat come off of him. “I can’t see a single thing, I swear. Not even my own hand in front of my face,” you whispered to him, your arm waving in the air till you found his body. He was letting you touch him, that was a good sign. It took a moment before you found his shoulder, gently guiding him to lay on his back. You trailed your touch up to his neck before coming up to lightly touch his face. Hot moisture coated your fingertips. For a second, you thought it was sweat, but then you heard the demon take a shaky inhale as his body hitched. Panic struck your body all the sudden, your thumb brushing just under his eyes. “Are you crying? Asmo, no… No, no, no, it’s okay.”

He whimpered, leaning into your touch. “I- I- I- I’m sick and- and unsightly--”

“Hey, hey,” you cooed. “Take a deep breath.” He followed your advice, his chest shuddering. “I’m sorry you’re sick…but we can’t change that now. We just have to focus on getting you well again.” Reaching around to support the back of his head, you helped him up into a slouched position. Although, you struggled to find his hand. When you did, his fingers instinctively went to curl around yours. You hated to disappoint him by replacing your grasp with the medicine bottle. “This should help. I’d, uh, take about half of it.” He took it away from you, and you assumed that he’d brought it to his lips. It was a few seconds before the smooth glass touched your skin again. Taking it back in your possession, you discovered it was a lot lighter than you expected. Moving it around in your hand, you felt no liquid slosh inside. “I said half, Asmo!”

“There was hardly anything in there and I need what I can to go back to my beautiful self!”

“That’s not how--” You sighed, letting the empty bottle settle on the floor. “No one is pretty when they’re sick, but that’s okay. It’s alright to be unsightly sometimes.” The mattress bobbed as Asmo laid back down, getting as close as he could against your body. “But even so, you’re pretty all the same.”

His hand smacked against your knee as he tried to find you, his touch searching for yours. “I can’t be both…am I beautiful or ugly?” He really couldn’t understand what you were trying to say. Maybe one day you’d be able to convey your thoughts properly.

As soon as you touched his wrist, he slid his fingers up to weave through yours. “You’re always beautiful, Asmo. Always. A little sickness won't stop you. But for now, your beautiful body needs some beauty sleep.” You squeezed his hand. “I’ll be right by your side.” The medicine seemed to already be working. Double the dose meant double the drowsiness, and you pinned it in the back of your mind to tell Lucifer about his mishap later. He curled into a tighter ball, snuggling up against your legs.

“It’s not…fair,” he whined, voice almost slurring with sleep. “I don’t…deserve this…I wish I was…as beautiful…as you.” Your chest tightened, but you kept your mouth closed. His grip had already slackened, and you could hear the deeper slower breaths as you came to the conclusion that he had fallen back asleep.

Feel better, Asmo. I’ll be here till you do.

“I tried warning them fallen angels or not, they were still in the demographic to get sick.” Solomon sighed wistfully, but the whole time he never lost his smile. As you recounted your encounters over the last few weeks, the sorcerer giggled. “What I wouldn’t give to see some of those scenes.”

The angel across the little table from you had to agree, although he looked a lot more sympathetic to the brother’s plight than the human did. “I’m really glad they’re all feeling better though. I bet you’re enjoying your newfound freedom, aren’t you, MC?”

You settled down the mug against the tabletop, sitting back in your chair, basking in the ambiance of Purgatory Hall. The House of Lamentation really had been come to feel like your home, but a change of pace was so refreshing at times. The angel’s dorm was so much brighter, quieter. No shouting, no nagging, no chaos. You could sip on a warm beverage in peace. “It’s nice knowing they all feel better,” you stated, having to admit to yourself that your termination of demon-nurse was doing you some good. Retirement life was nice. “No more worries.”

Both men agreed, Simeon pleasantly humming to himself. “Still, you could’ve asked us to help out. I bet it was difficult looking after all of them.”

“Can’t be much different than usual, can it?” Solomon interjected, laughing to himself.

They both were right. But, it’s not like you had hated it. You all felt…closer now. They had allowed you to see a part of themselves no one else got to see. That made you feel special. But being able to kick your feet up and get some much needed sleep was what your doctor ordered. You picked your mug back up and finished the last of your drink. The warmth of it spread throughout your body, seeping down to your toes and fingertips.

When Simeon noticed your cup was empty, he stood, holding his hand out. “Here I can take that for you.” You didn’t really want to impose, but you were the guest, and it did feel nice being taken care of today. They’d pampered you nicely. Taking your jacket at the door, leading you to the living room where you were given sweets and treats handmade by Luke and Simeon. You got more comfortable on the couch and gave the angel a thankful nod. Simeon turned away from you and Solomon, his steps halted as a high-pitched squeak filled the room. “Oh, sorry.”

Your head tilted a bit. “Sorry for what?” Had he stepped on a loose floorboard?

Solomon held himself back a bit before clapping in a bit of glee. He seemed endlessly entertained. “Doesn’t Simeon have the most petite sneeze? Bless you.”

Simeon looked back over his shoulder, actually looking a bit embarrassed over it. “It’s quite a normal sneeze thank you…” He shot his roommate a little look before leaving the room. You watched him go, a sensation of familiarity bubbling up to your mind. This felt… no, it couldn’t be. You were over-thinking things. There was absolutely no way it was happening again. Nope. You would refuse fate itself. Simeon took good care of himself. You couldn’t assume every sneeze was a sign of illness.

There was no one left to get sick. The story was over! The series had come to an end! All wrapped up in a pretty bow and everything!

No one else needed a taste of medicine.

Or did they?…

[koolades-world]

Hiiii can I request angsty headcanon(or fic?idk what's it's called) for barbs where he notices that mc is getting close to simeon and starts to doubt himself bc he can't express his emotions very well so he thinks that mc might leave him for simeon :< but of course! Mc comforts him and assures that they won't leave!! Thank youu take your time💗💗

hello!! yes of course :)

enjoy <3

love like yours

"Mc, would you prefer jasmine or hibiscus tea today?" Barbatos sorted through his tea collection. Once in the past you'd told him you enjoyed herbal teas, and for whatever reason, he thought of you when he saw those two in particular.

"Jasmine, please." You sat at the table he'd set earlier that day. His back was turned but he felt your eyes carefully track his every move.

"Very well. Tea will be ready shortly then." His words caused you to give a little celebratory exclamation. He felt the corners of his lips twitch upward and was filled with a joy he only got from being around you.

Once the tea was done, he served the both of you, and took a seat beside you. Despite usually having both hands on the teacup, you insisted on holding hands. They rested on the stone cold counter, contrasting the warmth of your conversation.

As you talked, his thoughts began to drift. It'd been a while since the two of you had time like this. Earlier that week, you, Simeon and himself spent time gardening together. Observing the both of you together was an almost eye opening experience. You were closer than he'd remembered, and it felt like you really enjoyed that day. The rational part of him knew it was just because Simeon was your friend. He was easy to get along with, and was your fellow exchange student. But, there was a little voice deep inside him that was crying out. It insisted you liked Simeon more than him, and as much as Barbatos tried to repress it, the ideas it gave took root.

"Barbie?" You called out to him. The affectionate nickname shook him out of thought.

"Apologies, Mc." The affectionate nickname shook him out of thought.

"What's got you so distracted?" You knew him too well, but he wasn't sure how to respond even though he knew the answer. Conveniently enough, your DDD lit up with a notification from him. What he was messaging you about was irrelevant. The both of you turned at the sound of the buzz. The look you exchanged seemed to tell you everything you need to know.

"Is it Simeon?" Barbatos guilty looked down at the counter. "He's nice and all, but there's a reason I picked you, silly. He might be well spoken, but you show that you care in other ways. You do all sorts of sweet things for me, regardless of what others might see. Besides, I know that you're different in private anyways. You don't feel the need to tell the world that you care. That's just for me." You squeezed his hand a little tighter.

"You flatter me." He tried to keep the smile from his face.

"Look at that cute smile. You know it's the truth." You then insisted upon spending the rest of the afternoon with him, pampering him. Any doubt he had was dispelled. The way you looked at him said it all.

[celestialprincesse]

𝐒𝐚𝐲 𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐧 𝐆𝐨 - 𝐅𝐢𝐯𝐞

Baths have to be one of your favourite things. There's something about lounging in the epsom salts filled bath, candles flickering about the edge, lights dimmed low and your favourite playlist thrumming quietly through your speaker that puts you on cloud nine.

Ever since your date - since Nikto vowed to fuck you properly - you've been a bubbly, gushy mess of feelings and fluttering in your tummy. To be honest, you're not so sure of the protocol now, of when it's appropriate to try and arrange a second date, or dig through your nightstand for the box of condoms which have probably long since expired. You've always been the one being chased, never the one doing the chasing. It's equal parts frustrating and so utterly thrilling.

What you're not aware of is how much your neighbour is struggling too. He's not sure how much longer he'll last with masturbating to the thought of you, imagining what silly little lingerie you'll wear when he finally takes to to bed, daydreaming of how you'd look under him, those mink lashes fluttering and rolling as he thrusts into you, how you'd whine and mewl at his every word of praise. He's getting desperate. A desperation which he's forcing himself to ignore so as not to frighten you like a stray gunshot with a wild rabbit.

Nikto, eventually gathers his strength, steels himself and forces away the unfamiliar stress he hold up tight in his shoulder blades, his balled fists at his side. The sound of your footsteps pounding down the stairs after only the first firm knock he raps on your door eases his anxiety, the look on your beaming face only serving to dissipate it completely.

"Hi!" You chirp breathlessly, still a little warm from having been mid way through blowdrying your hair.

"Princess." He acknowledges, giving a silent nod to your open door as if to ask whether or not you'll let him in. Not obliging would be foolish.

Your home is still uncharted waters to him, as is the way you take his hand so easily to guide him into the kitchen. So bold, so wonderfully eager to play house. "I bought Russian grey tea." A box is waved before his eyes, although he's far more interested in the lovely bashful smile you wear as you prance about the kitchen to flick on the kettle. "You're very thoughtful. Thank you." The thickly accented rumble of his voice sends shivers rocketing up your spine - shivers which he fails to miss.

Before you can even register, he's at your back, a massive hand coming to brush through the still silky blowout you'd managed to perfect on your hair. From the absolute reverence in his eyes, you're pretty sure the imposing Russian in your kitchen likes it too. "Pretty." He admires, breaking the comfortable silence descended upon the two of you. "You did this yourself? The hair?" The clinking of a teaspoon against the side of the pink porcelain mug accompanies the sound of the little hum you give, not registering the way you lean into his hand.

There's a vague feeling in the back of your head that tells you to create some distance, to pull away from the unbearably gentle fingers tracing patterns into the nape of your neck. You don't want to. You don't think you possibly could.

"With the blowdryer." You nod, turning in place to face him, the countertop digging into the small of your back. Nikto's arm doesn't leave its spot on your neck. He only brings his thumb up to trace that spot where your jaw and ear meet which has you weak in the knees, blinking up at him with hazy, unseeing eyes.

He gives a little grunt of acknowledgement at your answer, leaving you blushing as he doesn't even try to hide his crystalline stare, eyes blue as the deepest, coldest of lakes. Drowning in him would be such a lovely way to go.

You don't even recognise the way you lean forward until you're practically nose to nose, fingers twitching at the bottom hem of his mask. Begging silently for access. The desperation you're feeling is nothing short of all encompassing. Tunnel vision. You haven't even realised the way your chest is tight with a held breath, your dignity barely hanging on by a thread.

When your hand is so gently pushed away, you feel that thread snap.

Or at least you think you do, until Nikto has you by the hips, hoisting you up onto the counter before rolling the worn cotton of his mask to the bridge of his cooked nose.

The moment his lips find yours, you drown. You let yourself sink into the comfort of his presence, the warmth of his hands, the tide that refuses to stop from pulling you to him. The eagerness with which you kiss him back fills Nikto with an odd sense of pride, and the little mewl he manages to pull from your throat when his fingers curl coaxingly around the back of your neck turns him on. A lot.

You melt under his attention like butter in a pan, purring with his every touch like a kitten in a sunny spot. You're filled with nothing short of pure bliss, and you're convinced that Nikto is the only man to have ever provided you with such a feeling. Your every emotion has spilled out onto the floor, and Nikto laps it up like a man starved.

You're a mess of lips and tongues, cherry lipgloss smeared down his chin, legs hooking around his waist as your hands grip the back of his mask. Vaguely, you can feel one of his hands just above the hem of your skirt, fingers digging in to the meat of your thigh. You'd be thankful for any souvenir of this moment, bruise or not.

The sound of your ragged pants fill your tiny kitchen, his nose brushing against your earlobe as he crouches slightly to turn his attention onto your neck. The way you tip back your head against the cupboards to give him more space doesn't go unpunished as he nips and licks and sucks exploratively, his hand still firm around your thigh.

Eventually, painfully, the lusty haze settled over your kitchen is broken as he pulls back for air, and you sit in a wordless daze on the counter.

It's impossible for your mind to wrap around what the fuck just happened, but it's trying, running at a mile a minute to catch up with your body and the situation at hand.

"Anyways," He shrugs, as though he hasn't just had you like putty in his palms. "I will pick you up tomorrow afternoon. We will go out. Do not wear stupid shoes, okay princess?"

You gawk silently at him, choking on your words like a fish out of water.

"Also, your fence is broken. I'll fix it."

The minute he's gone from your kitchen, having taken a bit of your heart with him like a thief in the night, you're slumping back against the counter with a sigh of sheer girlish infatuation. "Wait - my shoes aren't stupid!" You yell uselessly into your already empty house.

PicNik unlocked 🤭 Sorry for the wait! I'm back now! I think! Maybe!

[sukunasdirtylaugh]

tags: satoru gojo x f!reader, bridgerton!au, reader and gojo are acquaintances, brief mention of satoru's mom passing when he was young. also please don't come at me if I got the garter belt/stocking thing wrong (I did a quick google search) so may not be historically accurate. (this could be a part two to this story that is also bridgerton gojo based).

“my lord,"

"please," he says, "gojo is fine."

"mr. gojo," you say, because frankly gojo feels too personal though it had been the last name his friends, such as lord nanami, have refered to him by. he stands at a respectable distance from you, watching over as you sit on a stone bench around the garden of lord kusakabe's home. your family visit had served to wish him congratulations after recuperating from a terrible cold this past winter. now, lord kusakabe stands as he used to, laughs as he holds a cigar between his lips as guests enjoy tea and play outdoor games.

though a lady like you, having a wardrobe malfunction, thinks it's best to hide behind a maze as you fail to adjust the garter belt that pulls up your warm stockings that keep the cold air from entering your skin. lord gojo stands at a respectable distance, towards your right as he attempts to look over your shoulder. your cling onto your left garter, saving any decency you can maintain.

you had met gojo through the first spring dance of the season, right after you had danced with higuruma. taken aback by his intial comments on how lord higuruma was a terrible choice for a satoru, and by your naivety by speaking your mind (respectably, of course) in front of someone so.... well of. regarded as royalty by even the queen herself. lord gojo did not hold your behavior against you, and to that you were partially thankful of. your honor must remain impeccable as your mother's. everyone has a standard to uphold, no?

what set you apart, nearly three weeks into the season from most, was lady whistledown's kind and praiseful remarks during the ball. it would be later made aware that perhaps you could be the diamond of the season. who knew as meeting the queen was only a week away.

so you had to keep your reputation as clean as possible.

"my lady, are you alright?" your jaw tightened at his words. you guessed perhaps your body tightened as well since the man approaches you carefully, slowly. waiting to see if you put a stop to him.

"yes, quite alright thank you." you laugh nervously, "just... a bit worn out from today's activities." he noticies you hold your leg.

"is your... leg alright?" he asks. you don't know how you do it, but when he suggests to get help, you stop him. it would be far worse for him to get help from others while you're here, with an intimate wardrobe malfunction.

"no! just... leave me be," he eyes you.

"I can assure you, leaving a lady in distress goes against my honor code. tell me, is there anything I can do?"

you hesitantly bite your bottom lip.

"it's... it's a wardrobe, malfunction, my lord." your eyes don't meet his as your cheeks burn under the sun. he looks at your figure, not sensing anything wrong at first glance.

"underneath."

"oh," he remains quiet for several seconds. "may I... may I know what it is?"

"my garter belt."

"what do you need to do?"

"I need to hook the end of the belt to the opening of the stocking, but..." you sigh, "it won't work."

"may I have a glance?" he asks, and you guess he senses the panic in your eyes and silence as he holds his hands up. "I promise I won't do anything, in fact, I'm sure your family might suspect your absence relatively soon if you don't return." but that isn't what worries you.

"I can't have a man that isn't my husband to do something like that," you try your best to not snap, "if anyone were to see or hear about this, my reputation would be ruined."

"not with me it won't." he says, "if you allow me to help, neither one would speak of this, and we can return back to the estate as if nothing happened. I don't wish to ruin the life of someone so...."

"so....?"

"someone honorary," he swallows, "respectable. most women your age enjoy ruining other people's lives, spreading misinformation to cause harm, and do anything as selfish as one can imagine."

"how would you know that?" you question almost bluntly, "you... you don't know me."

"I'm afraid you yourself aren't quite aware of the impression you have made on others, miss." he says as he slowly approaches, getting as far as to his knees to assist. "now please, allow me to assist you."

your lungs paused for what felt like an eternity. you didn't know what was more intimate, either his soft spoken words or his delicate fingers on your belt, causing your heart to beat loudly it would possibly errupt from your chest.

"how do you know how to do this?" you find yourself whispering. the lord looks up at you for what you can finally see up close are mesmerizing blue eyes, bluer than anything you've seen or dreamed of before he says.

"I used to watch my mother dress herself when I was a boy," he clarifies, "she passed before I turned 7."