#That doesn't matter the one of the pair who stays finds themself in hell | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jmrothwell · 5 months

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Good as it Gets

(The Reggie PoV tie in to A Matter of Time. Sharing what I have drafted so far, as I debate if/how this will continue)

Well, maybe I'm a mess

And maybe I'm depressed

And maybe I'll just find out who I am, and I won't like who it is

(Good as it Gets, Little Hurt)

The clearest earliest memory Reggie has was of his parents yelling at his grandparents. He knew there were earlier fights, they just weren’t as memorable. A monotonous daily occurrence that blended together to the point where it became a fact.

Parents fought. They hid their fighting as best as they could around others but no matter what, they fought.

It wasn’t until that fight with his grandparents that he’d even thought to question that fact. And only because of the one thing he’d heard his Pop bellow. Not a full blown yell but the first and only time Reggie’d ever heard him raise his voice like that.

“This environment isn’t good for him and if you two don’t get your act together, so help me, I’ll do everything in my power to… “

He’s not sure the exact words his Mother had shouted after that. Something about not being his parents, not being the ones to make that call about what is right for him.

* * * * * * *

Reggie sat waiting for Mr. Deckard to get in for the day. Personally he didn’t get along all that well with the guidance counselor. None of his friends did, really. The man had a set idea in his head of the proper path any upstanding youth should take in life, and pursuing a career as rock musicians did not fit in the mold.

Unfortunately, Reggie was in the wretched position of needing Mr. Deckard's help. So he sat waiting in the uncomfortable chairs they used for the front office, fingers drumming on his thighs.

Then they walked in, drowning in a plum colored flannel and a pair of loose fitting jeans ripped around the knees. He tried to not stare at the giant sun decorating the thigh of their pants leg, though he wondered where they even found pants like that. Maybe they made them themself, that’d be cool.

Forcing his eyes up he was greeted by the bill of a cap that matched the color of their flannel, their face effectively blocked from view since they were looking down. Though they couldn’t stay hidden long once Ms. Kowalski told them ‘hat’s weren’t to be worn in school.’

With a huff they removed their hat, releasing a cascade of dark curls that fell just past their shoulders. Their eyes were still downcast, and they were clearly pouting. All the same they were really freaking adorable.

Were they new? He doesn't recall seeing them around before. Which didn’t really mean anything in a school as crowded as theirs. However he’s certain he would have noticed them before.

“Mr. Peters?” Mr. Deckard’s gruff voice, pulled Reggie’s attention from the mysterious, possibly new, student. The graying man with his trimmed gray beard gestured for Reggie to enter his office. “What brings you to see me today?”

“I was hoping to get an application for early graduation.” Reggie said as amicably as he could, taking a seat only when Mr. Deckard gestured for him to do so.

“Why would you need that?”

The million dollar question. He couldn’t exactly tell Mr. Deckard it’s because things at home were getting worse. The man had previously brushed off Reggie’s concerns regarding his parents' drinking and internet gambling fueled fights, or rather how said drinking and gambling had impacted Reggie’s financial and living situations.

Hell, he hadn't really even told the guys just how bad things at home had gotten. They knew about the general fighting, the ‘we have company over and we’re trying to behave’ fights. Just that was enough to change how the guys acted around him, subtle enough that either they didn’t notice or hoped he wouldn’t. Either way he didn’t need them coddling him like that. Which is part of why the guys also didn’t know about this new idea to try and be able to move out all the sooner since he didn't currently fit the qualifications for emancipation.

It didn’t matter if he was able to come up with a good enough reason, Mr. Deckard pressed on without an answer.

“Unfortunately, you do not meet requirements for early graduation.”

“But I’ve completed all the required courses.”

“Yes you have Mr. Peters.” Mr. Deckard said as he reviewed his computer, scowling in disappointment. “However, you do not meet the GPA requirement.”

“I have a passing GPA.” Reggie’s frustration was tinting his voice now.

“A passing GPA isn’t enough to allow an early graduation I’m afraid.” Mr. Deckard said, sounding anything but sympathetic. “Mr. Peters you’re currently looking at a 3.1 when early graduation requires a GPA of at least 3.5.”

“That’s bull shit.” Reggie snapped. “There’s no way you're telling me Kurt Anderson has a GPA that high.”

“Language, Mr. Peters.” Mr. Deckard raised his voice slightly and Reggie shut the hell up. Probably done speaking for the rest of this interaction whether he liked it or not. Internally hating how much raised voices bothered him.

“Kurt Anderson, is an upstanding student, who not only exceeded the GPA requirement but was accepted early into ASU with a scholarship.”

Yeah, a fucking golf scholarship. Reggie’s jaw worked slightly in lieu of muttering under his breath, curious how many teachers fudged their grades knowing the kind of work Kurt actually put into his classes. And where the hell did ‘upstanding’ come from? Kurt was almost as bad as him and the guys when it came to skipping and disciplinary actions. Though in Reggie’s opinion a good portion of the ones he’d gotten were absolute bull shit.

“Which brings me to the matter of your less than exemplary disciplinary record.” Mr. Deckard cooly said as if he could read Reggie’s thoughts.

* * * * * * *

Luke sullenly sat at one of the cafeteria tables, staring off, barely poking at the food in front of him. Who knew where his mind was. Reggie was just surprised to see him at school in the first place.

“Hey man.” Reggie greeted plastering his best smile on. “Why so grumpy?”

“Got stuck with a writing partner in Humanities.” Luke mumbled, eyes still looking off at nothing.

“The world must surely be ending.” Alex said full of sarcasm as he joined them at the table. “Luke Patterson, actually having to work with someone on a group project, say it isn’t so.”

Luke shot a quick glare and not so subtle middle finger at Alex before his eyes focused back into the middle distance.

“Who is this poor soul so that I may extend my condolences?” Bobby said as he sat down.

“Some new girl who transferred in today.” Luke pouted.

“That her there in the flannel.” Bobby asked, using his chin to point in the same direction Luke had been consistently scowling in.

Reggie followed the gesture and caught sight of a familiar plum colored flannel. He hadn’t noticed all the black striping that’d been added to the back of it before. Oh, she was new…and sitting alone. That had to suck.

So, Luke hadn’t just been staring off into the distance. He’d been staring at her, which was…something. Reggie’s never seen Luke focus on anything that long that wasn’t music related in, well, ever.

“Yeah that’s her.” Luke said, his tone not nearly as sour as his face was. “Julie Molina.”

“Maybe we should ask if she wants to sit with us.” The words tumbled out of Reggie’s mouth as the thought formed in his head. At Luke’s affronted look the rest of his thought process soon followed. “I mean, no one else seems to be sitting with her. And if she’s new she might not have any friends yet.”

“Yeah, all right.” Luke said, grabbing his tray and heading towards her table. With a quick exchange of bemused but exhausted looks with Bobby and Alex, they soon followed after him.

She looked absolutely stunned when Alex asked, “These seats taken?” Bewilderment that only grew when Luke sat across from her before she’d even answered. Reggie sat beside her, and Bobby blocked her attempt to shrink into the other corner of the table.

“You looked like you could use some company.” Bobby said, with one of his casual smiles.

“I’m fine.”

“You sure? You look nervous as hell.” Alex chimed in now that he’d sat down, after his brief grumblings to the ceiling.

“Right. Because it’s so unusual to be nervous around four cute strange boys who take over your lunch table without warning.” Julie grumbled under her breath, not really looking at any of them.

“Oh, you think we’re cute?” Reggie asked, a familiar fond warmth blooming in his chest. Barely just learned her name but excited all the same at being called cute.

And there’s that startled look from her again, causing Reggie’s smile to deflate slightly. It deflated even more with her eye roll and head shake, she focused all of her attention down and away from them.

Reggie almost regretted suggesting they talk to her. She’s clearly not interested.

“So, March’s a weird time to transfer schools isn’t it?” Luke said, the first thing he’s said to her since sitting down.

Julie’s pout shifted as she glanced up at Luke, and ooooh, maybe she’s just not interested in the rest of them. That wouldn’t be a surprise. Luke was the only one at this point unaware of how many people pine over him on the regular. Many had tried and failed to get with Luke Patterson.

Then again Reggie’s never really seen Luke smile like that with anyone else. And Julie wasn’t even flirting. Somehow the conversation had shifted to his and Julie’s writing project and turned into some brainstorming session. A topic Reggie thought for sure would be just the two of them, but they’d managed to drag him, Alex, and Bobby into it as well.

* * * * * * *

They’d booked the Orpheum.

In less than 6 months they’d play the show that could make them legends. None of them argued with Luke anymore when all he wanted to do was fill every second they had with rehearsal or booking the next gig. Anything really to get the name Sunset Curve out there even more than it already was.

Although Luke did most of the gig booking and spreading the word these days. His schedule was a lot more open ever since he ran away from home, taking up residency at the studio. His time freed up even more in the past week when he’d also stopped going to school, apparently a few of the teachers were starting to give him funny looks.

Alex and Bobby didn’t question it. Bobby, if anything, questioned if he should even stick it out to graduation. Alex figured he might as well, once he turned 18 no matter what happened he was out of his parents house and figured the diploma would help.

Reggie planned to stick it out. If for no other reason than to shove his diploma in Mr. Deckard’s face at graduation. He wouldn’t actually, but the mental image alone was enough to motivate Reggie to stick with his last few months of high school.

“Hey, Reggie, you know where Luke is?” Julie asked, as he was pulling his jacket out of his locker at the end of the day.

“He’s probably at the studio, waiting for us to show up to rehearsal, want a ride?” He closed his locker to reveal a very confused Julie.

“Rehearsal?”

#WIP #writing #fanfic #early draft

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pigeonwhumps · 11 months

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Gemma rescues Phoenix AU: Part 3

Immortal Cannon Fodder masterlist

Everything: @extrabitterbrain @wolfeyedwitch

Phoenix struggles, and Gemma helps.

2.3k

CWs: hospital setting, panic attack, past crucifixion, flashback to said crucifixion, aftermath of crucifixion and resurrection, partial nudity, talk of impaling, use of 'kiddo' for an adult, immortal whumpee, long-term injury/chronic pain, traumatised whumpee, low self-worth, past abandonment, past death/resurrection

Gemma stays there on the floor, arms wrapped around a sobbing Phoenix. They're alive. She still can't believe it, but here they are, warm and breathing and traumatised to all hell but alive.

"Sorry. Sorry."

Gemma tightens her arms. "Shh. It's okay, god, don't apologise."

Phoenix buries their head in her and sobs harder.

Gemma's so busy trying to keep herself and Phoenix calm, reminding herself that they're alive, here, god they're alive, they're not dead, that she barely notices the presence appear beside them. She only realises when Phoenix tenses, and they both look up.

A nurse in a blue polo shirt is standing there, arms folded. She smiles tightly when she sees them looking.

"Are you the woman who came in with the crucified girl?"

Phoenix flinches, and Gemma tightens her arm around them, suddenly angry. It's not entirely the nurse's fault, she doesn't know who Phoenix is, but still. Phoenix has a morgue sheet on, it should be obvious something's wrong.

"Yes. And I think you'll find your morgue is missing a body."

The nurse blinks. Blinks again. Looks hard at Phoenix.

"You came back to life?" They nod. "Do you have any injuries?" They shake their head. "Okay. You'll still need to be checked out, and the police are here. They'll want to speak to both of you."

"Can we have a chance to breathe and get Phoenix some clothes first?" Gemma snaps. Inexplicably, the nurse's face softens at this.

"The police are interviewing the staff, so yes, we have plenty of time. There's a donation box at the end of the corridor, or the hospital shop."

Gemma shakes her head. "No money. Didn't think about that."

"In that case, we'll go to the donation box. Follow me."

Phoenix stumbles as they rise, clinging onto Gemma to stop themself falling.

"Sorry."

"Shh." Gemma helps them to their feet, supporting them as they lean against her, seemingly about to collapse. "Just focus on putting one foot in front of the other. Doesn't matter how fast we go."

Phoenix nods but still continues to walk faster than they probably should, stumbling every few steps. It's only a couple of minutes before they reach the donation box.

"What size are you, kid?"

"Um, eight. Or six. Mostly."

Gemma nods and lets them go gently before diving in. She doesn't know what style Phoenix usually wears, but she finds a t-shirt and tracksuit bottoms in their size, as well as an unopened packet of pants and a pair of flipflops. The latter are rather large, but they'll do.

She's about to hand the whole pile to Phoenix when she notices a small stuffed monkey. The kind that has magnetic hands and feet, designed to attach to something. It's a bit worn on the top of the head, but not much.

"Here you go. I hope they fit. And it might be a bit childish, but there's this, too."

Phoenix takes the monkey and holds it tenderly over the pile of clothes, lip trembling as they mouth something. They don't seem to be able to speak but Gemma gets the message, smiling.

"That's alright."

The nurse clears her throat. "You might want to get something for yourself as well. You're covered in blood."

Gemma looks down at herself. Oh, god, Phoenix's blood, she'd forgotten about that. It didn't seem to matter once Phoenix was alive again. But now it does, of course it does, it's unhygienic and it's Phoenix's blood. She digs herself out a t-shirt and shorts, stealing glances at Phoenix every few seconds to make sure they're still there, that Gemma didn't imagine them coming back to life, they didn't die on the operating table and they're right here.

"Right. Right, ready."

Phoenix stumbles as they start walking again and Gemma takes their arm to stop them from falling. She doesn't really notice where she's going, too busy holding up the exhausted kid, until the nurse ushers them into a room with one bed and an en-suite.

"Lucky for you there's a side room free. The police will be here soon, let them in when you're ready."

"We will."

The nurse nods and exits. Gemma turns to Phoenix.

"You take the shower first. Can you manage it on your own, do you think?" Phoenix nods. "Anyone you want me to call while you're in there?"

They shake their head. "No, I, um... no."

"Okay. Go on, I'll be here when you finish."

Phoenix nods and heads into the bathroom, setting the monkey down carefully on the bed first.

Now Gemma just needs to wait. She hates waiting, especially alone with her thoughts when they're like this. But Phoenix is alive. Alive, alive, alive, and as long as she keeps repeating that to herself she'll be fine.

Phoenix drops the bundle of clothes on the bumpy vinyl floor and sits down on the floor of the shower. The head goes drip... drip... drip... but it's different from the warehouse, it is, the pattern is monotonous, there's a pattern, and anyway they can see here. If they just focus on what they can see they'll be okay.

They rub their wrists, feeling the new rough scars there. Scars, not nails, not open wounds.

They need to get up and turn the shower on. They need to wash, they know they're filthy, even if it's barely noticeable anymore. But they can't move. Can't get themself to, can barely remember how to, how long is it since they could, anyway?

Aside from the walk here. That was... weird. The woman's weirdly nice. They're not sure if she's told them her name, their memory's shot, but either way they don't understand why she's acting this way. It's not like Phoenix is important, and she didn't know them before this. So why does she seem to care so much?

Why would anyone?

How long were they in the warehouse for? Why did nobody come? Surely Abbie wouldn't assume they could rescue themself for so long. Maybe it wasn't as long as it felt. Maybe something happened that meant no-one could.

Maybe they sent that woman. Maybe they did send help, and that's why she's here.

Stop. They need to stop thinking about not being rescued and take a shower. They can figure out the rest later.

It's just... the drip... drip... drip... is relentless. Phoenix's vision swims in and out, seeing the warehouse, the dark, the metal and concrete, back to the bright white of the hospital, round and round, hearing the dripping and their own ringing screams and barely able to breathe. They dig their thumbs into their thighs, trying to concentrate. If they can see more than shadowed metal and concrete, it's okay. If they can move, it's okay.

They twitch their toes, wiggle their legs. If they can see and move, it's okay.

Their skin looks unblemished. They know it's a lie, they've automatically camouflaged, but they can see it, unblurred by pain and oxygen starvation, and if they can see and move, it's okay.

There's a pop. One quiet pop, and the bathroom is plunged into terrifying, looming, crawling darkness.

One quiet pop, and Phoenix is thrown back there entirely.

The warehouse is quiet and still aside from the drip... drip... drip..., all they can see is metal and concrete, light slanting in at an angle. Everything aches, they can't move, can't even catch their breath.

Their wrist spasms, pain bursting through it like the nail's being hammered in for the first time. They can't move it voluntarily without their whole arm screaming in pain as shocks reverberate up it. It's all far, far too much, and it's going to be forever.

Phoenix screams.

They scream. And they scream. The pain and the dark and the fear is too much, and they scream, scream until their throat's raw.

"Phoenix! Phoenix, you need to breathe, can you do that for me? Can you hear me?"

Phoenix gasps, unsure whose the voice is but it sounds warm and familiar, and they flinch as warm hands touch them.

"That's it. Hold onto my forearms, tight as you like, and breathe. Take a deep breath, just like that, and another."

Phoenix clutches the woman's forearms like a lifeline, fingers digging in, keeping themself here, and breathes like she says, one after the other.

"That's it. Now, tell me five things you can see."

"You. And, um, and I don't know your name, and light, and tiles, and, um, I don't, concrete? I don't know, I can't concentrate."

"Hey. It's okay, you did well, just breathe. You got three. No concrete here though, we're in the hospital, remember? No warehouse. My name's Gemma."

"Gemma," whispers Phoenix, voice rough from screaming.

"Yeah. Can you tell me four things you can feel?"

"Your arm. Um, the tiles under my feet, and, um, the air, and, and, um, my hair?"

Hair they realise, with a start, is coated at the ends with dried blood. From their wrists which are still bleeding and– and–

No. No, they're not.

Gemma smiles. "You're doing well. Three things you can hear?"

"Your voice. My heartbeat. And, um, murmuring."

"Two things you can smell?"

"Blood. Blood, I– I– um–" Oh, god, there's so much blood. They tighten their hold.

"Easy, Phoenix. You're not in the warehouse, you're safe. Can you give me one thing you can taste?"

"Salt."

"That's it. Come on, breathe, easy now. Do you know where you are?"

Phoenix closes their eyes, bows their head, digs their fingers into Gemma's arms.

"Hospital. With you. Gemma. No– no more crucifixion. No warehouse. Safe."

"Yeah. That's right. Safe."

Phoenix nods. Safe, safe, safe.

The block starts to recede from their mind as they repeat it, the hospital coming into sharper focus. They release a deep, shuddering breath.

"Thank you." They pull their hands back, tucking them into themself, and that's when they notice the red marks on Gemma's arm. They don't have enough left in them to feel any more scared, now, but it doesn't stop them remembering what Abbie's punishment for that would be. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to– I mean, I didn't know, I, um, I didn't mean to hurt you, I–"

"Hey, shh, it's okay. I know you didn't. I knew the risks. It'll just be a couple of bruises, it's fine, kiddo. Okay?"

Phoenix nods. "I'm sorry."

"Stop apologising for everything. None of this is anything you need to apologise for."

"Okay. I'm– right." They let out a weak chuckle. They're not used to this. No-one's ever told them *not* to apologise before.

"Shall we get cleaned up? Both of us. I'd like to get your blood off me at some point." Phoenix nods. "Great. Can I wash your hair?"

Gemma sounds hopeful and Phoenix doesn't know what they've done to deserve this.

"Please."

Please, let someone else take care of them for once. Gemma's so soft and warm and they need that, they crave it, and they find themself for once not caring too much about what she might want them for afterwards.

She must want them for something, right? To be doing all this?

"Right. You might want to take off your dirty underwear. And I guess I should undress too. If you're comfortable with that. Let me sort the shower head."

"It's, um, it's fine." Phoenix pulls off their stiff and dirty underpants, only vaguely aware they were still wearing them. Didn't... didn't they have a t-shirt on before? At some point? When did they lose that?

"Ready?"

They nod, and Gemma turns on the water.

Phoenix gasps as the spray hits them. Oh, it feels so good. Cool then warm and clean and pounding, pounding, pounding on their sore shoulders, their itchy scalp, turning light brown as it swirls down the drain.

And now they're thirsty. So thirsty, suddenly, and they tip their head back, mouth open, desperate to catch some. Water streams into their mouth, warm and not very nice to taste but water.

"The police will be here soon," Gemma murmurs, rubbing the roots of their hair. "They'll want to talk to both of us. Do you want me to stay with you or would you prefer to answer the questions on your own?"

Phoenix swallows hard. Given the choice, they'd rather not talk about their experience at all. But they don't have that choice.

"I– I can do it on my own. I need to do it alone."

They're determined not to be a burden any more than they already have been. They're not entirely useless, and they need to prove it both to themself and Gemma. Even if they're still barely present half the time and their memory's an incoherent jumble, their body even worse. They're not sure they can even walk properly, and the wrist spasm catapulted them back to the warehouse. It all makes them want to scream. They don't know how to make any of this better, but they know they need to do this alone.

"Okay. Let me know if you change your mind. However you do this, it's okay."

Phoenix knows that's a lie. It has to be. There's no way Gemma would be happy with them being even more dependent on her. But when she briefly places a hand on their shoulder, they rest their own on top anyway.

It's not enough. None of what they do is, and they know Gemma knows it too, but as long as she doesn't say anything they can pretend it is. Pretend they're enough.

They don't know what they're going to do if Gemma admits that they're not.

#whump #whump writing #immortal cannon fodder #phoenix oc #gemma oc #immortal whumpee #hero whump #hero whumpee #hero caretaker #whumpee and caretaker #hospital setting #crucifixion #panic attack tw #low self worth #past abandonment #resurrection #aftermath of resurrection #flashback

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wendingeverwicked · 7 months

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Name: Tasha

'True' name: Canibores

Age and Birthday: Ageless, time passes differently where he's from, but looks and mostly acts, like someone in their early 20s.

Height: 5ft10

Pronouns and gender: Human gender has no hold here. So even saying nonbinary of any flavor wouldn't be accurate. Tasha just is. You can use any pronouns, mix and match, or stick to specific ones. There's no wrong answer here, and Tasha wouldn't care or correct anything. You won't be misgendering them, whatever you decide.

What they are: Demon

Style and Appearance: Shoulder length, fluffy, dark brown hair with a natural wave to it. Sinewy build, tall, not scrawny but lean, wiry. Outfits made of stolen things that caught his attention. Lot of open button-ups tucked into skin tight pants. Mesh tops, chains and shiny stuff for days. Only constant is a big, heavy, pair of steel toe capped work boots.

Piercings and tattoos: Can change as frequently as anything else. Depends on what he wants to do, but almost always has at least ears pierced.

Scars and distinguishing marks: None.

Sexuality: Undefined. Much like gender, human labels don't apply. Tasha likes sex. Tasha likes all people.

FC: X

Abilities: Infernal fast travel - the ability to 'step' through a veil of infernal energy and arrive somewhere he's been before, or can see clearly. Can gift visions, as well as feelings of passion, euphoria, inspiration, etc. to people who summon him. If staying topside, and therefore needing to sleep, Tasha themself will experience hard to decipher prophetic dreams. Outside of hell, they heal quicker than a human, a few days is enough to recover from most, but in hell, it's instant.

Weaknesses: Their true name makes them controllable in the right hands. Magic can stop them healing. Will take physical damage from anything, it just takes a lot to actually matter or be felt. They have negative focus and a such a shit memory it belongs here.

Links: Canon - Media - Fun Stuff - Aesthetic - Music - Threads

Other bits and pieces:

Feel free to summon. Write starters where he's been called up, respond to opens where they are. Anything like that. Their true name is known enough that it doesn't need restriction.

Is, essentially, a demonic jester. Allowed to be a little shit to his king because the king finds it funny. They carry that energy everywhere and have an equal lack of respect for all authority. So don't take it personally when they refuse to be reverent or respectful to your all mighty characters. You can try to scare it out of him, it probably wont work.

His realm of hell is one of change, passion, love and pleasure. Passion and pleasure are also not just the horny kind. It’s art. An element of spiritual fulfillment found through creation. The domain is full of music, poetry, performance of all kinds, as well as intricate frescos and beautifully painted canvas. The passion he can inspire in others can be this kind. It’s why he’s obsessed with all expressions of human creativity.

It also means the horny kind. BUT. Whilst Tasha has that element to them, that's not all there is, and he can be written without that being the forefront, so please don't worry about writing with him if you aren't comfortable with nsfw themes or threads.

Slut for poetry. Prose of all kinds really, but real poetry of all kinds fan. Reads everything out loud. Poetry feels best to say.

Not a creative bone in this demon. Not a one. Can't make shit. Loves what other people can make though.

Doesn't tend to lie or hide his feelings or thoughts. An open book. They wont always have the language to describe what they're feeling though, and that's one of the rare times he can be quiet.

Loud. Obnoxious. Playful. Doesn't sit still. Has a rhythm to how he walks and talks, and a constant need to move and act.

They don't need to eat, sleep, drink, do anything to sustain a form whilst in hell. They are made of infernal energy, it naturally exists and recovers. It's different if they spend an extended period of time on earth.

Long form backstory and bio:

The most recent demon in his realm. Even if that means he's still a few hundred years old as far as humans would be concerned. Time doesn't move in hell. Doesn't pass or feel like anything. The day and night cycle in his realm isn't natural, it's decided by the king on a whim. Tasha will sit down to read for a bit, get through a few books, and not even realize it's been weeks topside.

With no job, and no real expectations, Tasha is largely left to their own devices. Other demons have work, they have tasks and schedules and jobs and contribute to the running and maintenance around the domain. Not Tasha. Their job is to be a little rascal. Government sponsored troll bitch. He rolls up to his king, talks shit, gets some laughs, some attention, and then gets told to go have fun and skips away like a little princess.

So yeah. Some kind of demonic amalgam of a jester, princess, and youngest son of a mafia don who will eventually have to face the grim reality of the expectations awaiting them. Also the little mermaid. He wants to be where the people are.

Pre to RP, Tasha doesn't spend long periods of time on earth, going up frequently but only briefly. Doing whatever entertains them at that time, then returning. Still seeing hell as home because it's familiar and feels safe.

AUs and other shit:

Feel free to put this guy in some situations. He will always be a demon, but he can be thrown into fantasy worlds, historic fiction, arranged marriages, scifi settings, fucking film noir detective stories. Whatever. He's adaptable.

He's literally been a mafia kid more than once.

This is literally Tasha's vibe. It works in all worlds.

#tasha canon #the fc #tasha about #tasha aesthetics #tasha threads #tasha radio

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meenah-chan · 3 years

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Requested by: @zimelu-eloni-nova-lycan (hope you see this since I can't tag you ಥ‿ಥ)

My apologies in advance if Malleus is OOC. Other than wanting to play TW and doing a bit of research of him, I know nothing 😂 I never thought of taking requests coz I'm a slow writer but it was quite interesting so I did it anyways. (And took daaays to finish 😂)

To Thine Own Self Be True

An OM! Brothers x GN! Dark Fae MC (slight OM! X Twisted Wonderland crossover)

5.47k words

Genre: flangst

Trigger warnings: self harm, violence, self depreciation? (cringe jk) Read at your own discretion.

"You're an incomplete puzzle... I hope you find your missing pieces." And thus, they were sent to someplace they didn't know...

They... have always been alone. But Y/N is not lonely. They have Malleus, a powerful yet caring brother. They have their grandmother, that even as busy as she is, tries to show her love as much as possible.

They are the only one they need. As long as they have them, they needn't anything else. Or atleast they think so.

"As a part of royal family, you have to broaden your horizon." But they think otherwise.

Before Malleus' departure for Night Raven College, he left Y/N a word, "You're an incomplete puzzle, Y/N. I hope you find your missing pieces." and that was months ago, and they were still confused by it.

Incomplete puzzle... It doesn't feel like they are. They are content of what they have. They capable of doing most tasks perfectly. They fulfill their responsibilities impeccably. It's not like they can't live on their own either. Having no friends and acquaintances but they're two family members is also fine. They don't need any more. No one who could stand their presence anyways.

The intimidating dark energy far more destructive than a fae possessed, in which Y/N could never control. Those menacing, sharp green eyes. Their skin as pale as the dead corpse, and lips charred black. But most of all, those pair of disgustingly sharp, black horns that keeps on growing back no matter how hard they try to get rid of it.

Y/N is the epitome of fear. They knew it more than anyone. If they were to be reckoned that way, it is better to maintain distance from everyone.

But I should fulfill my duty, atleast. They thought, fortifying their resolve as they stood before the future King of Devildom and his butler. "Welcome to Devildom, Y/N Draconia."

"It's an honor to be of your acquaintance, Prince Diavolo." Placing a palm on their chest, Y/N bowed.

As per the two Kingdom's agreement, they were to live in a safe place different from a lavish lifestyle they have been used to inside their gold plated walls. And thus they were led by the Future king's shadow, Barbatos, to their new home. The House of Lamentation.

House of Lamentation. What a gloomy and dreadful place, befitting a sinister being like me. they scoff.

But the sight the dark fae witnessed within that walls was not within their expectations.

"Beel! Don't eat the my wallet! H–Hey, I said let go! My goldie'll snap! B–Belphie, help me!" A white-haired man is pulling a leather wallet from the teeth of a bulky orange-haired one.

"Smells chicken mushroom oil." While the orange head kept their teeth sunk into the wallet almost ripped into two. "It's just a drop, stop going crazy over it!"

"Belphie, wake up! You promised you'll help me with clearing dungeons today! The raid will start anytime now!!" A violet haired male violently shakes an asleep man in blue but the man is far from dazed at all.

"Hrmm... Five more minutes—" "We have no more time!! I can't play with a missing player!"

A feminine faced guy appeared right in front of them, instantly invading their comfort zone and kept locking eyes with them. "Ohh? Who is this with you Barbatos? Ahh, The one moving in! You're quite early, darling. Ignore those bunch in the back and play with me?"

"Behave, you fools!!" A booming voice reverberates and in an instant, the rowdy bunch is silenced. "Such a disgrace..."

Except for one, who didn't make any ruckus until that very moment.

A bucket came flitting up in the air and in the next second, all of its contents all poured on the man who controlled the ruckus a while ago.

"SAAAAATAN!!" It was an utter chaos. This place far from the gloomy place they have in their imagination. It is filled with rabid demons that could obliterate them were they to join forces, and now Y/N have to adjust in this new environment.

"I see it's not a great time to introduce myself." Said Y/N, yet the only one who probably heard them is the butler beside them. "If you'll excuse me, I would like to know where my room is."

"As you wish, your Excellency. Allow me to lead you the way." The butler responded to them. They left the common room, where the rowdy ones moments ago, were trying to suppress the supposedly-most decent of the seven, from destroying the mansion.

Y/N usually do not receive a normal greetings on the events they've been into or more like, forced to come by either their grandmother or by Malleus. It could be the fairies either— gives them space with no one dare shorten the distance; reluctantly greet them before leaving them as fast as they could or; flat out ignore them.

Yet so far, the experience I have today is by all odds, the most insulting way I have ever been greeted. Y/N clasps their trembling hands as they sat on the bed.

I wish this will end sooner. This will be a hell for me...

Almost everyday is a crazy, eventful day. Far different than their everyday life in the Valley of Thorns, their homeland. First impression doesn't really matter to Y/N, but for some reason, they couldn't stand them since day 1. Sure, they haven't done anymore distasteful things like the rude way of welcoming them. Still, the members of the family are crazily weird in their own ways. And they hate it.

Lucifer is the eldest of the brothers. The one who leads the brothers and manage everything in place.

"As your family have wished, you were to live differently than you have thus far. So I won't exempt you with the cooking and housework."

"As a part of Royal family, I expect great things from you. I won't tolerate screw ups."

"Remember to complete your tasks. I am assigned by Diavolo to take care of you, so I will check on your activities throughout your stay here." He is an ass. A bossy and dominating dictator who think he could order a royalty like them.

But one time, when they entered his study, they saw a scene they never thought they'll ever perceive.

*Tak* A fountain pen falling from his gripless hand.

He was splayed on his desk filled with tall stacks of paper, out cold. Y/N didn't know they would witness such vulnerable side of such condescending demon.

So they chose to put off their business for tomorrow, placing his coat over him and letting him rest.

But the event didn't occur only once. Atleast twice a week of exact time before midnight, he's always been unconscious on his desk. That's when Y/N realized: he is not strict and short tempered for no reason.

As the eldest, he took it to himself to be the father figure to the brothers, all while perfectly doing his job as Diavolo's right-hand man. He fulfills his job with perfection. But perfection doesn't come without hardwork nor sacrifices. For the sake of his great responsibility he sacrifice himself, working so hard until he drop on his desk.

With thoughts of him made Y/N ponder over something.

Does having a father feels like having a Lucifer in my life? Maybe it is, they never knew since they never remember their's. He isn't as bad as they thought he were if they think it that way. That is praiseworthy, as they think so themself and deserve some respect.

No more stern expressions whenever speaking to him. Being more compliant if his instruction is reasonable. Thanking him even for a simple thing he does for them.

Soon, they noticed he doesn't nitpick them either and praise them for every job well done. The dark fae may still be annoyed with him but that's not a bad outcome at all.

And then there's Mammon, the second eldest, who is supposed to assist the eldest.

"Ye're a royalty right? So ye're loaded. I'm in a pinch right now so let me borrow from you." He leans on their shoulder, with his smug grin.

"Don't listen to that fool. It's past 200 years and he still haven't paid his debts to me yet."

"Shut up, you otaku!"

Behind violet-haired appears the black haired demon. "MAMMON..."

"EEK— W–Wait!! Lucifer, this is not wha–ACK—!!" Mammon is a scum. A rude demon who could care less of his words and language. Trouble is where he is. Even so, in his tough exterior, Y/N took note of a soft side.

Y/N saw him one time, poking at the mopping otaku demon outside his room. "Yo Levi. What you doin' there?"

"Just let me be... I lose my raid last time because I couldn't play... Now I can't even bear looking at my PC... No one would want to play to a no-show gamer like me..."

"Hmm... Then, it can't be helped. C'mon, your big brother Mammon will play with you!"

"R–Really..?"

"Yeah, Yeah. Let's play to your heart's content" He pulled him up and push him inside his room.

Consoling a sad brother, lending a helping hand when they need it. He may not look like it, but Mammon is also taking good care of his brothers. All the emotional support Lucifer fails to give his brothers, Mammon provides.

So before Mammon entered the room, the dark fae decided to tap his shoulder, earning his attention. "You really love your brothers."

"W–Wha... Where does... who loves—"

"That's really admirable." They promptly reach out a bottle of a jet-black faerie dust only they could concoct. Mammon gingerly took it from them and scanned the inside. "That may help you settle some of your debts. Then..." After giving the bottle, they went on their way.

"AAAAHHHH!! THIS IS ULTRA RARE!" As expected to a man who could appraise goods.

They remember Malleus from his caring side, they couldn't help but smile and commend the yellow demon. I miss my brother...

Leviathan on the other hand, has a different case. He is the third-born of that household. A timid person... At first glance, atleast.

They just can't understand him. He spoke in language they couldn't wrap their head around like, "LOL! ROFLMAO!", "Tss, normie..."

It is tolerable, at least. What they can't tolerate is the fact that,

"UUWAAH!! MY RURI-CHAN LIMITED EDITION COBALT PIN AND FIGURINE IS HERE!!" He is, by far, the loudest. His sudden and unexpected outbursts kept on triggering every jumpy cells in their system.

Leviathan is too hyped he seemed to enter his own dimension. He skipped through the corridor, he sung a Ruri-whatever song that is, until, "Ahh—" he made a misstep in the stairs, a few steps away from them.

Y/N dashed and caught them barely in time, with firm hold between his shoulder blades and another to his package, which should be flying right now but was pressed secured to his chest.

"You should be more careful or you'll hurt yourself. Your treasured package almost fell." They sighed.

"... An angel has descended." He stared at them in awe. As he move his hand to the box, he touched their hand. That's when their position fianally sinks in to him. His face flared beet red and in a few seconds blew a fuse, passing out right on the spot.

"... What a troublesome demon..." With no other choice but to bring him themself, he carried the unconscious Leviathan up to their room. After opening the door, what welcomed them is a messy room.

No, not messy. The room is filled with items and materials of all sorts. Tons of CDs, figurines and posters on shelves and walls. Stuff toys and pillows of all shapes and sizes. Hanged intricate costumes and clothes, which in just a glance, they knew is made with effort. Even pins, threads and needle atop a... Sewing machine? Did he made all of this?

Y/N took another glance on the other side of the room. There he saw three monitors with various programs registered. A game, video editor and a Photoshop... I wonder what else can this man do?

Is this what they call a hobby? Such passion and dedication in pursuit of doing what he loves... An unfamiliar feeling for this dark fae.

They... can't really understand this man. Not at all... But I can now see him in another light, I guess...

The one who sought Y/N first were Beelzebub, the sixth-born. A bulky, tall demon who loves to eat. They were having a snack on the balcony when the older twin sniffs his way in. Such action that freaked the dark fae out internally, considering the sight they witnessed when they first moved in. The fact that they saw a few times 'accidentally' eating inedible things doesn't helped at all either.

"I followed the smell from the kitchen. Your cake smells delicious!" The drooling giant stood by them, and they couldn't take another sip from their tea.

"Hmm... Help yourself." Or you may help yourself with my flesh if I didn't satisfy your hunger.

"Really?!" He sat oposite to them and within minutes, all the plates on the table were wiped clean. "That was delicious!... Ahh that's right. Y/N, why aren't you eating with us during meals?"

"I'm used to eating by myself."

"But why? Eating with someone make the food taste better." Y/N doubt that'll be the case if that someone is him, who could definitely eat them if his appetite cries its needs.

Beelzebub touched his chin, thinking. "Hmm... How about I eat with you during snacks time? I'll bring food you'll definitely like!"

"Ah—" And they lost their timing. His eyes sparkles like stars and the pure happiness in his voice made it impossible for them to refuse. They wouldn't know what he could do were they to decline what he desire.

Since then he would appear without fail during Y/N's snack time, sharing both of their food with each other.

They tried to slowly end such dangerous activity yet, the enthusiasm in his eyes whenever he eat held them back. In the end, Y/N conceded, increasing their baked goods everyday to sate the needs of the ball of sunshine before them– who could bring warmth or burn them. As a response he will also eat it all like it's his first time eating their goods.

He is a man of few words yet, also quite easy to read, especially when eating the sweets they made themself. A straight forward person who means just as he say.

He would even sometimes bring his other twin, who will eat a few bites before snoozing.

"Beel really likes you, you know..." They glanced from their teacup to the youngest, seating beside them as the gobbling twin is busy with his food.

Belphegor stares in an ever-drowsy eyes. He is the man they least interacted with. How can they? Whenever they see him, he is always asleep. And it's not like Y/N is interested in communicating with him or anyone at all. "He even does his research for everything he brings you here. I don't know if you knew, but he really want to convince you to eat meals with everyone."

"...Ehh? Why? We're not even..." Y/N raised an eyebrow.

"Because he loves everything you make. He wants to talk to you ever since the first time you cook, but you're too antisocial to even eat with us."

"Says the demon who is always sleeping whenever I see him." Y/N snorts before taking a bite from the cupcake Beel brought. Hmm... this is good...

"...You, are you getting enough sleep?" Belphegor peers at their face.

"...None of your business."

"Whatever..." He frowns before burrying his face on his pillow.

What a keen observant. Y/N thought.

They've also been observing him since the first day. They share a lot of classes together and the dark fae knew, he is someone who rarely attend his classes, and whenever he does, he is always asleep. They also never saw him hold a book, much more read it. Yet, when they have exams, he finishes halfway the alloted time, almost the same time as them and sleeps after. The worst thing is that he could pass them easily.

He... is a dormant monstrosity. They conclude as they unlock the door to their room the day after. But before they do so, they noticed something.

Beside the door is an unfamiliar paper bag and inside... is a pillow, a bit caved it to the top center—similar to the one they use back to their home to be able to sleep well. It also comes with a note:

'The caneles and the stew is passable. You can throw away the pillow if you don't want it. Just know that it took me a great deal of effort to buy that.'

Really, what a frightening observant.

And there is Satan, the fourth-born, a pretty decent guy who craves for nothing but knowledge. If Y/N may say, he is the one they spend the most time with, though it's not that much.

"What are you reading?" Voicing not a word, they faced him the book cover.

"L’intelletto e Il Cuore... Hmm, that's a good choice." With at least 3 meters away from him, and few to no words exchange between them inside the library, it's not really that much.

He is a rational and intelligent man who respects personal space. Though, from time to time he would snicker eerily between the silence they have, holding either a cursed or homicide book. Creepy.

"What did you say...? The books you borrowed from me... Fell in the river? And it was washed away...?" And when he is angry, all his rationality is thrown out of the window.

"I–I will replace it I promise–" Pleads the peach-haired demon, kneeling before him.

"Replace, you say...? Didn't you know they were a Century membership gift to me from the Bibliomagicus Guild? Do you think that's replaceable...? Ha... Haha...HAHAHAHA!! THEN WHY DON'T YOU REPLACE THEM WITH YOUR WORTHLESS LIFE, HUH?!"

His wrath makes Y/N tremble, like all the bookshelves and books present in the library. Right, the books, the bookshelves. He'll destroy everything if this continues.

"Somnus Enim a Dum." So in a snap they cast a spell, amplified by their own dark pixie dust, and render him unconscious.

"Y/N!" That night he showed up in the library, frantically and still disheveled clothes and hair.

"Thank you. I don't know what would've happen if you're not there. And I also apologize you get to see that side of me." It's the first time they ever saw him smile without looking at the book. A smile similar to their brother.

"You're weird. You got so angry because of books that you'll ruin all the other irreplaceable books here."

"..."

"Don't mind it. I'd feel bad if the books are ruined."

"...Right." He chuckled, brushing his hair with his fingers and fixing his clothes to place. He then picked up the book he's reading, pulling the other sofa to sit beside them.

Now that's annoying. Nevertheless they let him. For they're a mere guest.

The fifth-born, Asmodeus, is not a problem back then. Having only a few occasional invitations for salon and parties, they could decline politely. But after the book incident, everything about his approach changes.

Since then, there was Asmodeus, everywhere!

In the classroom, in the library, in the music room, in the planetarium, in the balcony, in the bed, even the bathroom! He won't give them a break!

"Y/N~ I noticed you're always with Satan in the library. Are you getting along well? Beel too, you always bake and eat with him. That's so unfair! And you invite Belphie without me? Don't tell me you already like one of them?"

"If you'll choose one of us, shouldn't you choose me, the most beautiful demon of them all? I swear I can love you thousandfold than any of them, but... of course you can only be my second~~"

"What's with you and Lucifer? You always went to him every night. Is it a nightly endeavor? Hey~? Y/N, don't ignore me~!" He is a complete chatterbox. A motormouthed demon who don't know when to shut up.

But being with him comes with a few merits. Despite not looking like it, Asmodeus is a real gentleman. He maybe not as keen as Belphegor's capability to observe, but Asmodeus is an attentive and thoughtful demon. He does his everything to provide every small help he could give to them.

Whilst not needing help, it's much better than him being a clingy, dead weight. Y/N tries to look at the bright side.

"But this is tiring..." Y/N sighed, closing the book they are holding.

"Are you tired of reading? C'mon, let's go out and breathe fresh air!" I'm tired of you, you idiot.

"If you want to go out, you can go." The dark fae massaged their temple. It's been throbbing from time to time after that incident with Satan and Asmodeus bugged them.

"No! You've always been cooping yourself here or your room since coming here. You have to go out from time to time or you'll wither away!"

"You're so noisy Asmo. Y/N said they don't want to go." Asmodeus pout at Satan sitting beside Y/N, before pulling the dark fae out of the library and House of Lamentation.

"I'm telling you, I don't need this." Asmodeus holds 5 hangers of clothes, pondering which one fit them best.

"But~ It's such a waste for a beautiful person like you if you don't try dolling yourself up..." They stare at Asmodeus as if he just said the most ridiculous thing he could ever say.

"Don't tell me..." Asmodeus stared at them in disbelief, gasping dramatically like he always does,t "Y/N, YOU'RE GORGEOUS! DON'T EVER THINK YOU'RE NOT! YOU'RE A DROP DEAD BEAUTY AND—" They covered his lips before he could even shout louder in such a public place.

He then pulled their hands off after a few moments. "And look! A bit of blush suits you! And black lipstick—" Y/N let him dressed them up— in exchange of shutting up. He chose meticulously, accenting every parts that they consider an abomination. A dizzying position they were in.

But the real deal has yet to come. What's worse than being bothered by a bug? More bugs...

"Asmo, are you nuts! You're hogging them all to yourself!" Mammon barged in their room as Asmo is applying makeup to them who gave up on him for a while now.

"Y/N couldn't come to our snack time because of you." Beel and Belphegor followed close behind, clearly unamused of Asmo's action.

"I haven't even got a chance to introduce them to the wonders of anime and games!" So do is Leviathan.

"They prefer reading in the library more, right Y/N?" Satan rest his back on the door frame, crossed arms.

"Excuse me? If I may say, Satan, Beel and Belphie are the one who took their time more than I!"

"YOU—" And their greatest fear since living in Devildom occurs. All hell broke loose. An all out brawl of the short tempered demons before them with all the six brothers, a thread away from transforming and blasting everything they touch. No... That's not it. Without transforming, they're already smashing everything into pieces.

The dressers. The desk. The chairs and mirrors. Everything but the bed they are sitting on.

"WHAT'S HAPPENING HERE!" The last and the strongest of the brothers made his appearance, yelling in his most intimidating voice.

And they...finally snapped.

"Each and everyone of you... GET. OUT!!!" Such horror reflected on their eyes, with their whole being trembling uncontrollably. Tears poured down one after another. All of the emotions the brothers have never seen them make all spilled before them. As if a predator threatened to the end of their life.

On their hands...

were horns severed from their own head. The seven demons were so taken aback their bodies moved on their own to comply to Y/N's order... or more like, plead.

And the doors were completely closed.

They never left their ransacked room. They wouldn't open their doors to anything. No food, gifts nor even apologies. All but the brothers' words received a single response: "Malleus... I want my brother."

Hence the brothers and future king have no choice but to call him as soon as possible, or they will perish inside such place, alone like they've always been.

"Thank you for taking good care of my sibling. I hope you will continue so in the future."

"We also hoped we could. Yet considering the circumstances, I doubt they would want to stay here a second longer."

"Let—" but before Malleus could even finished his sentence, Y/N came flying down on him.

The distressed fae buried their face in their safe haven's chest. He then proceed carrying them in his arms, assuring them they are safe.

Lucifer led them to the music room, giving them privacy in their conversation.

"You've become so light, Y/N. And what happened to your horns?"

"...I wanna go home."

"Why? Do you hate this place?"

"I'm scared of them since the first day."

"That's understandable... But is that all?" Y/N stare at him in disbelief, while Malleus smiling softly at them.

"...Then what else... should I feel? I know I'm a monster... But that doesn't mean I could live with such monstrous demons! I'm just a monster with a weak heart!"

"Then you can blame it all on me. I'm the one who chose this place for you after all." All words were blown off Y/N's mind. The furrow between their eyebrows disappears as their face relaxes.

"Brother... But why?"

"I want you to realize your own self."

"..."

"Now answer me. You said you're scared of them, but do you hate them? Do you want to leave this place so badly? Is that really everything you've felt in this place?"

"Of course! I... I..." Y/N already knew the answer to his question, way before he even asked.

"They were annoying, noisy and self-centered bunch who does things as they pleased. They keep dragging me on their antics, I never had a peace of mind... I hated it, I despise it. I..." They bit their lips.

"I felt so frustrated! Why do they look so lively and happy despite being so unruly? They're always on each others neck yet they were having fun? Why?! And hobbies? How can they have such thing? I have nothing of sort! I just wake up day after day, desperately searching for something and fill this empty void inside me!"

"I fulfill my responsibilities without fail, on what cause? I have no purpose! Seeing that demons made me feel so miserable with my existence!"

They looked on their lap, holding back the tears on verge of falling. "What do they have that I don't? They're also the strongest, incredibly so that even I shook when they unleash their power! So why aren't they isolated like I am? How can they live a normal life unlike me?!"

"I think you already know the answer."

"...Because... They rely on each other. I never relied on anyone nor let anyone rely on me..." Malleus' smile widens when they hit the nail on the head.

"You're a strong person, Y/N. You won't even depend on us, not until today. You're capable of anything. You're just afraid of any more rejection, of being left behind." He paused and lift their face to meet his eyes, "Diavolo and others explained to me what happened. They said the incident frightened you. Yet knowing you, I doubt it is fear. Will you tell me why you blew off?"

"...I was overwhelmed. They were fighting over me. It never happened to me before so don't know what to feel. The attention was too much that I hated it. And I don't know how to respond to them..."

"So you brushed them off and isolated yourself." They nod weakly.

"And you snapped your horns to show them you're not who they think you are; to scare them off."

"Something like that..." Malleus smiled at them as he pet their head. "See? It's not bad being honest to yourself. Do you still want to leave, now that you let it all off your chest?"

Y/N shooked their head. "I want to stay."

"My Y/N is amazing... To surpass all the beings who estranged them. You're all grown up now." He held them in his arms, Y/N nuzzling onto his chest.

"Come on, they've been waiting for you for the longest time. You know what to do, right?"

"Yes." They left the room, Y/N clinging to him like never before. As childish as it seems, Malleus knew they grew a lot in just a few months of living in Devildom. It is indeed a great decision to choose the brothers to take care of them. They were no longer the incomplete puzzle he saw before he left for his studies.

"Y–Y/N..." Waiting in the common room are the seven brothers with Diavolo and Barbatos.

"W–We understand if you really want to l–leave." Mammon looked down as he clenched his fist.

"It was our fault." Leviathan followed.

"We've been insensitive, pressuring you despite knowing you're not accustomed interacting with a lot of people." Satan said with a serious frown.

"We even destroyed your belongings." Asmodeus glanced away, holding onto Satan's jacket.

"We'll make it up to you in any form."

"Y/N, sorry." Belphegor and Beel voiced respectively.

"It was due to my negligence you have to experience such incident. I also want to apologize." Lucifer held his palm to his chest for a slight bow.

"N–No!" Y/N strongly shook their head, "I should be the one to apologize! I'm so sorry!!" before bowing deeply.

"Y/N!? No, please raise your head—" Diavolo held Lucifer's shoulder to stop him like Malleus cued to let his sibling continue.

"It was all my fault! I've been a coward all this time. I was wrong for trying to push you all away when you don't mean harm. It was all my fault for venting all my frustrations to you. Please, if you would still allow it, I want to stay a bit longer."

"Y/N you are more than welcome here so please raise your head now. We don't deserve your apologies." Satan was the first one who walked towards them to raise their head.

"Y/N?!!" But as he did so, a crying Y/N appears in the brothers' view.

"This is the first time I will ever ask someone but," they sob and sniff, "will you guys be my friends?"

"Y–Yes, so please stop crying!" As conflicted as the brothers are, being asked such question that could hinder their future plans with them, they were forced to agree to their wish instantly.

Let's leave it for another day... The same phrase runs in the thoughts of the brothers, a very rare occurence to happen once in a millenium.

With Asmodeus' lead—he, Mammon, Leviathan, and Beel wrapped their arms around them to console the crying faerie. Lucifer, Satan and Belphegor stood a feet away from them, watching the five in the middle.

As things calms down, they decided to sit on the same dinner table for the very first time. Food were served by Barbatos, who prepares who knows when. He could actually have predicted such outcome for all they know.

The place were so warm, and lively. "This tastes wonderful." That's an understatement. The food have the richest taste than everything Y/N ate in their entire life. "You're right, Beel. Food were best eaten with someone." Beel have them a toothy grin. "I'm glad you get me."

After the meal, Y/N fell asleep on the spot. "Hehe, they're so carefree now." Belphegor played with their fringe. They didn't woke them up and instead carry them in a new room, letting them have the deep sleep they couldn't have for days.

"Congratulations, for being Y/N's first friends. I'll leave them in your care." Malleus bid his farewell to everyone, not bothering of waiting for Y/N to wake up. "I also hope this incident will be the last one."

"Yes, we won't let such thing happen again, and ensure a comfortable life for Y/N throughout their stay here." Diavolo answers in stead of everyone. The brothers are not in the shape to reply as they absorb Malleus' first sentence.

First friend. Such a bitter-sweet word. Whether the word stings them or not, it doesn't matter. It won't stop the brothers from trying to achieve the same goal as subtle as possible.

And so, a not-so-obvious scramble goes on.

This took longer than I expect 🤣😂 In all honesty, it was quite challenging, making a blatant All Brothers x MC. I also don't have a plot and flow until I actually wrote it sksksk dunno if that's a good or bad thing 😂🤣 and this was the longest one I wrote for the past half a year.

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