#also some of the older face ups could use freshening up

[eveningdreams8]

sio2 funan officially at new home safely as the last of my for sale dolls atm \(@^0^@)/ although i ultimately sold him i am glad i bought him because he would have become my white whale and i would always be thinking about how great he could be but in reality he didn't end up being quite what i wanted

some of you might have noticed that i let a few other dolls go as well and honestly it felt like such a relief

now i am thinking maybe i should let another one or two go 🤔 but these ones i am less sure of so they will get a makeover or two before i decide for sure...

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Werewolf Headcanons

I've been stalked by the guilty feeling that my Romanian Werewolf boy got a lot of backstory but not much romance or interaction. So there you have it: some headcanons featuring the ancient Beast, a post-kidnapping sequel.

Content: female reader, obsessive behavior, monster romance, mild NSFW at the end, ridiculously older yandere

You followed the gargantuan stranger back into the city, leaving the bloodbath behind as if it was just a distant dream. Admittedly, you’d expected to be dragged into some mountainous cave or an abandoned mansion, not the cozy - albeit a little dusty - apartment on a main, historical street. On second thought, he did function as a human outside of his monstrous escapades, so it made sense. “Is this your place?”, you sheepishly asked while he wiped the thick layers of blood off him. “One of them, yes”, he answered curtly. “It’s central”, you remarked, trying to make conversation. “Well, I didn’t know about it back then. It’s been a few decades.”

Your ears perked up at the words. Gazing at his features, he didn’t seem necessarily aged to you. The deep creases contouring his face felt more like a sign that he’s lived sorrows beyond most people’s comprehension. “How old are you?” You finally asked as curiosity replaced your initial fear. He abruptly stopped his movements and leaned back, brows furrowed in deep contemplation. “I’m not so sure anymore. I was born in the 80s”, he concluded. “That’s not too far back, is it?” You inquired, this time more relaxed. “80 BC, I meant. You do the math.”

He freshened himself up as you counted the millennia on your fingers, frowning in confusion. He chuckled at your intense focus, then quickly looked up into the mirror. When was the last time he smiled like this? The reflection was a foreign sight to him. “We’ll get you everything you need tomorrow”, he continued, still in a daze. What a strange idea, having someone to speak to after an eternity. And suddenly, it occurred to him just how rusted his communication had gotten: “I’m so sorry, I haven’t asked for your name once”, he said, embarrassed. “It’s (Y/N). And you are...?" Might as well introduce yourself to your benevolent captor.

The dreaded question. How did they call him back in the day? He hasn't had anyone spell it out for him, nor did he feel the need at any point to say it himself. Why would he? He hadn't anticipated meeting you. With pursed lips, he searched his mind. Eventually, from the depths or memories, from days of yore, it made its way back: "Daos."

Given your first gory encounter (where he quite literally murdered everyone else), you were surprised to find out he's otherwise a calm and polite individual. Well, he's had centuries to mature, you suppose. You've also noticed he has that rather old-fashioned chivalry to him. He's very attentive despite his stoic demeanor, and often follows with acts of service.

"You're insulting me. I can carry this myself with ease", you'll argue. "I never doubted you can. Nonetheless, it is my wish to do it for you."

As the days pass, your reluctance seems to vanish as well. In fact, you've become particularly cheeky, encouraged by his warm, unperturbed behavior. Maybe you haven't gotten the worst deal out there, after all.

"You know, you talk like an old man", you've teased him once. He was visibly taken aback by your statement, and you could discern a faint blush on his face. "Do I? My apologies, I haven't spoken to anyone in a long time. I'm not familiar with modern speech. Have I embarrassed you somehow?"

He spends his free time reading, though he will frequently take you on walks. It's an interesting affair to say the least. You can feel the curious eyes of the passersby and hear their not-so-discreet whispered gossip. You can't truly blame them: Daos is enormous even as a human. He towers above everyone else with his imposing appearance. To match, his voice is deep and coarse as a result of not using it much until recently.

The ancient werewolf is a living history book. If asked, he will narrate to you important events or details you might be curious about regarding his culture. Once, when he'd been in a good mood, he even shared fragments of his life before turning into a creature. He'd been a high-ranked Dacian warrior, spending his days training or fighting. He still remembers the flag he carried with bitter fondness, yet another irony to his fate: a wolf-headed serpent. It was meant to showcase their way of life; barbarians with no fear of death. They'd greeted the Roman Empire with nothing but a sword and a shield, no shred of doubt.

He might've been betrayed by his people, but the pride remains. The pride of a soldier who's never known defeat. You learned quickly that his beastly form doesn't count as a significant change by any means, save for appearances. The man has brute strength even as a human. You'd once strayed from his view, and a stranger approached with a daring whistle, gawking you up and down. Before you could react, Daos clawed him by the throat. You heard the twist of the skin and the creak of the bones giving in to the immense pressure of his large hand.

"It's the second time I have exposed you to such unpleasant sights", he said, discarding the body as if it was any other garbage. "Forgive me, but I will not have you disrespected like this."

He is very much aware he's taken you away from the world out of his own selfish desire. The fact that you accepted it is more than he could ever ask for. That's what he keeps telling himself, even as his eyes wander to your lips whenever you speak. Or as his hand lingers a moment too long against the curve of your back. Or as he hungrily takes in your scent whenever you're nearby.

He might be unhealthily possessive of you, but Daos will never do anything against your will. No matter how obvious his urges are. In fact, no amount of flirting or teasing will shake his resolve. You will have to be very direct with your approval.

Once the reality settles in, he'll become extremely affectionate, bordering on obsessive. To think he could have you in every way possible. Oh, he's waited thousands of years for you. All the suffering, the loneliness, the anger, they're stripped of any meaning now that he has you.

The city strolls at an awkward distance have since become a habitual excuse to hold your hand and show you off to the mortals. The quiet evenings of passing time with a book now include your merely noticeable weight cuddled into his lap. You didn't expect him to be this adoring. Being touch-starved for millennia counts as one reason, naturally, but there's more to it, so much more. And it all leads back to you.

He is a little taken aback when you ask him to do the deed in his werewolf form. "Don't be foolish. I can't overcome my instincts as well when I'm a creature. I could harm you", he'll lecture you. "Besides, you can barely take it as it currently is", he'll add, smirking at your baffled expression. It seems he's picked up on your cheekiness.

After a lot of pleading and waiting for the right moment - when he's ravaging you in a daze - he finally agrees. True to his word, his tune instantly changes. The tender hold turns into a desperate grasp sinking into your skin, and the thrusts become irregular, almost frantic. His drool cools your burning cheeks as you hold onto the coarse fur, feverish and overwhelmed.

His golden eyes rest on the small human squirming underneath him, and suddenly, he can't help but notice: you have the perfect birthing hips.

[tims-shi]

tags: itoshi!sister, baby itoshi is named kei, fluff, sae and rin as older brothers, some spoilers for the u20 match !!, this is v self indulgent tbh 😭 kinda ooc characters im sorry

first post !! also not proofread lols again this is p much self indulgent oml ending is rushed my mind went blank,, i tend to coddle my baby cousins A LOT and ive been missing them these days so it led to this 😧

“hey prodigy boy, a little lady’s looking for you.” aiku announced, entering the break room with a miniscule smirk on his face.

sae merely raised a brow, coldly saying, “send them away.” aiku laughed, waving his hand in the air, “i can’t do that. she seems very persistent. i feel like she’ll cry if she gets sent away.”

getting annoyed, sae dropped his bag. rolling his eyes as he stomped his way out of the room. he opened the door, prepared to tell the tepid creature to scram off, only to be met with air.

“are you fucking with me, you selfish captain?” sae muttered to himself, about to close the door. pausing halfway when he hears small mutters.

“nii, up.” looking down, sae sees his little sister, no older than three years, looking up at him with raised arms. “kei,” sae lets out a grunt as he picks her up. running his eyes through her figure once she’s nested in his arms. quirking a brow at the familiar looking blue pentagon brooch pinned at her jacket. 

“why are you alone? where’s mom?”, sae interrogated, fingers tucking her maroon locks behind her ear. “i’m with nanny. told her i’ll be back.” kei replied, fiddling with the string around her brother’s neck.

“okay, you’ve seen me. now go back to nanny.”

“no! wan’ see rin-nii, too.” kei whined, arms tightening around sae when he tried to put her down.  at the mention of the name, sae’s face scrunched up, reminded of the not-so-good relationship he has with his brother. “do you know your way? i can’t bring you there ‘cause my manager’s looking for me.” at that, kei nodded. placing her palms on his face and kissing his cheek before wriggling down his hold. “do you have your phone? i’ll text your nanny where you are. stay safe, alright?” sae crouched down, pinching her cheek.

“i will. bye-bye!” kei waved at him before dashing off to where her rin-nii could be.

—

kei’s lost. at first she was confident she’ll reach her rin-nii in record time, but after a few turns in this maze of a facility, kei’s starting to lose hope. tears brimming at her eyes, letting out sniffles.

—

with blue lock winning the match against japan’s u20, it’s safe to say the excitement hasn’t really died down. now done with showering and freshening up, the athletes are now on their way to the cafeteria, where a feast is waiting for them, as anri said. 

“that was a fun match! i’ve never played a match with so many talented players before! hell! i wasn’t even expecting we were gonna win!” bachira babbled excitedly. at his chatter, chigiri’s brows furrowed, “what do you mean you weren’t inspecting us to–”

“do you guys hear that?”, isagi hushed them. 

“...hear what?” reo asked. “it’s like someone’s crying” isagi answered, looking around for a person crying?

“is that a child?” nagi, who had been silent throughout the walk, pointed out the small figure not too far from them. bachira, ever the happy person, approached the crying child. “hi! are you okay? why is a little girl like you crying?” he asked, now on his knees in front of the child.

“can’t find my nii. ‘m lost.” kei muttered. feeling comfortable with the stranger before her, she went closer to him, hands now gripping his shirt.

“do you want us to help you find your brother?” this time, it was chigiri who asked. also crouched in front of her as he wiped her tear-stained face. “wan’ my nii.” the little girl uttered out, cries gone and was left sniffling. 

as bachira and chigiri were comforting the little girl, reo can’t help but feel familiar with the child. has he seen her before? he can’t really recall. looking over at isagi, it seems like he has the same thoughts as well.

“doesn’t she look like rin-chan? so cute!” bachira exclaimed, now holding kei in his arms, cooing at her cheeks. hearing her brother’s name, kei perked up. eyes twinkling at bachira, silently pleading to lead her to her brother. 

“oh? is he your nii?” when kei nodded, bachira turned to isagi and handed him the child. “isagi will bring you to your brother. right, isagi?” 

while panicking inside, isagi couldn’t help but sigh softly when kei looks at him expectantly. “i’ll take her to rin. save us some food.” isagi bid them goodbye. over his shoulders, kei waved at the group of boys left behind. 

—

“what’s your name?” isagi sparked up a conversation, the awkward silence getting to him. “kei and ‘m three!”

“what’s your name?” kei asked him, resting her head on his shoulders. “me? i’m isagi. i play soccer. do you play soccer, kei?” 

“no, can’t push the ball by myself.” kei pouted, recalling the times she tried to do the sport both her brothers love. “then you have to eat a lot so you get strong and kick the ball by yourself.” isagi told her, a palm resting on her back.

“we’re here. are you good by yourself?” isagi put her down. kei nodded at him, smiling at him in gratitude. “thank you, ‘sagi.” 

—

rin can’t help but be disappointed. at himself or at his brother? he’s not entirely sure. maybe he’s angry instead? he doesn’t know surely, too. sat alone in the break room with a towel over his head, rin curses inwardly as multiple thoughts run over his head. small pats on his knee made him look up. as teal eyes meet with another set of teal eyes, rin wasn’t expecting to see his little sister in here. let alone, by herself. “kei, are you alone?”, rin hushed out, picking her up and settling him on his lap, facing his body. 

“wan’ see rin-nii. miss rin-nii.” despite his cold demeanor, it’s no doubt that itoshi rin has a soft spot for his sister. always the sweet and loving child she is, unaware of the darkest sides of the world as she keeps lighting up every corner of their home and their hearts.

“rin-nii missed you too. have you eaten yet?” rin hummed, tugging kei closer and fixing a part of her hair that got messed up.

“i cooked my lunch! nanny helped me with the stove but i made my lunch by myself.” kei puffed up her chest, boasting about her blooming skills in the kitchen. “that so? should we go to the cafeteria? i think they have your favorite.”

“what we waiting for? let’s go! hurry!” with eyes gleaming at the sound of food, kei got off and started pulling her brother’s hand. “you wait here, i’ll just freshen up.” rin told her, arms under her arms as he sat her on the bench.

“rin-nii.” kei called out. “yeah?”

“can i sit with ‘sagi?” 

“WHAT?”

likes & reblogs are appreciated !

[d3adp00ls]

Omg what if Vanessa x reader where they are married and they have a nice slow day where they are on ther periods or something and are super clingy and touchy and make cake or something

Heart To Heart

Vanessa (fnaf movie) x reader

Summary: See request

Contents: Pure fluff like seriously I’m single and writing this shit made me feel lonely, periods, so that means talk of blood, Vanessa is literally me in the beginning, food fights, attempt at baking, tickle fight, kisses, i want someone like this.

Word count: Go to McDonalds and ask for a double quarter pounder with fries and chicken nuggets with bbq sauce, the cashier should then tell you what the word count is.

side note: I got carried away ngl and now it’s less of a period fic than it is just a goofy fluff fic and I’m sorry about that anon 😅if you don’t like this one feel free to request another period fic and I can definitely try again. ALSO, I WAS LISTENING TO HEART TO HEART BY MAC DEMARCO ON REPEAT WHILE WRITING THIS, AND ISTG THAT SONG MAKES ME FEEL THINGS!!

Side note #2: I hate cake…I STILL WROTE ABOUT CAKE THO CUZ I KNOW HOW TO MAKE IT (kudos to my older sister for teaching me when I was younger)…but I hate it it tastes like dirt with frosting on it I never liked it. ALSO AS YOU CAN SEE HOW USED MY BIG BRAIN AND REALIZED I COULD NAME THE STORY AFTER THE SONG I PLAYED ON REPEAT LIKE A GENIUS.

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The warm sunlight poured in through the windows, casting a gentle glow over you and Vanessa as you snuggled in your shared bed. Your bodies were entwined beneath the soft covers, and as the light stirred you awake, you nuzzled your face into Vanessa's chest. She responded by pulling you closer and resting her head on top of yours. Just as you were about to drift back to sleep, a loud noise jolted you both awake. With puzzled expressions, you sat up and looked at the bedside table where the noise was coming from.

"Did you forget to turn off your alarm?" you asked, watching as Vanessa reached over to turn it off.

"I must have," she groaned, hitting the alarm button to silence it.

You got out of bed, ready to start your day. Vanessa watched as you gathered a towel, one of her oversized shirts, and some comfortable clothing before she spoke up.

"Where are you going?" she asked, still sounding sleepy.

"I'm going to freshen up, I feel like I've bled all over the sheets," you replied, your voice slightly hoarse from just waking up.

Vanessa hummed in response, rearranging the sheets you had been lying on. She looked up at you with a concerned expression.

"There's no blood, my love," she reassured you, causing you to smile at her thoughtfulness.

"Still, I think it would be best if I shower now," you said with a hint of amusement. Vanessa moved to sit on your side of the bed and reached out for you to come closer.

"Please, can you stay in bed a little longer? If you happen to bleed, I'll clean it up," she pleaded, her voice still muffled from burying her face in your stomach.

"I don't want to get up right now," she whined, and you couldn't help but giggle at her adorable pout.

"It's already 12 pm, love. We've already missed half the day," you reminded her, causing her to groan.

"So what? We've worked hard all week, we deserve these few days off," she argued, crossing her arms and looking at you with a defeated expression.

"That's true," you agreed with a soft smile. You took a step back, causing her to let go of you, and she pouted even more.

"But you know what else is fun to do when we're both on our monthly cycle?" you asked, a mischievous glint in your eye.

"What?" Vanessa grunted, her arms still crossed.

"Taking a shower and baking a cake with the person you love most," you said, watching as her eyes widened in surprise.

"But if you'd rather stay in bed all day, that's fine too," you added with a shrug, before turning and walking towards the bathroom. You could hear Vanessa rustling around in the bedroom before she ran after you with a cheeky smile.

"I thought you wanted to sleep in," you teased, looking at her playfully as you took off your shirt.

"I wanted to sleep in with you. Plus, I don't want to leave you alone while you shower," she said, giving you a kiss on the cheek before undressing alongside you.

"Oh totally," you replied with a laugh, turning on the water in the shower.

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"Okay, so now we need four room-temperature eggs that have been separated," Vanessa calls out to you as you grab the eggs from the counter and a bowl.

"Wait, separated? Do you mean in different bowls?" you ask, looking at the eggs and the one bowl you had taken out.

Vanessa laughs and you look up at her, confused. She shakes her head with a smile and puts down the baking book she was reading from before moving to stand behind you.

"No, my love, separatied means separating the yolk from the egg whites. Can you hand me an egg?" she playfully whispers in your ear.

You hand her an egg and she stands next to you, cracking it against the counter and separating the yolk from the egg white by passing it between the two shells until only the yolk remains.

"See? It's not that difficult," she says with a smile, breaking you from your trance. You return the smile and say, "Yeah, I've got this."

As you continue to separate the eggs and put them in the bowl, Vanessa moves around the kitchen, preparing the other ingredients.

"Done!" you exclaim, looking at Vanessa. She curses under her breath and you drop the empty egg shells in shock. Vanessa had accidentally dropped the flour on her head while reaching for it on the top shelf. You cover your mouth to stifle the laugh that wants to escape as you watch her.

"Baby, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. I was just excited to do this right and-" Before you can finish apologizing, Vanessa throws the rest of the flour on you, causing you to gasp in surprise. You stand in shock as she laughs.

"Nessa! What the hell?" you exclaim, surprised. Vanessa continues to laugh as you grab one of the egg yolks from the counter and smear it on her face. She stops laughing as you rub the yolk on her face, then wipes it away to look at you with a playful glare.

"Now you're in trouble," she says, grabbing the rest of the yolks and smushing them on your face. You groan and wipe the yolk off, spitting out any that got into your mouth.

Vanessa continues to laugh as you complain about the yolk in your mouth. She runs to get towels and two glasses of water before returning and handing you a towel. You wipe your face and apologize for laughing, then pick up one of the glasses of water and pour it on Vanessa's head, causing her to gasp and close her eyes.

"Y/n!" she shouts, and you laugh as you run away. Vanessa wipes her face with her sleeve before chasing after you and tackling you onto the couch.

"Hey, stop! You're going to get the couch wet and dirty," you say, laughing as she tickles you. Vanessa finally stops and walks away for a moment, giving you time to catch your breath. But before you can, she comes back with the other glass of water. You try to protest, but she throws the water on you before you can finish. You groan as she giggles and says, "Now we're even."

"Let's go finish this cake," Vanessa says, laughing as she walks back to the kitchen. You call out that you'll get her back and fall back onto the now-wet couch, not caring if it gets any dirtier.

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You lay snuggled up against Vanessa on the couch as an old romance show played on the television. She had her arms wrapped around you as you picked at the remnants of cake on your plate, gazing absentmindedly at the TV. Vanessa's lips snapped you out of your daydream as she planted a soft kiss on your head, causing you to smile and look up at her.

"Hi," you say with a smile, and she smiles back before nodding towards the plate in your hand.

"Are you going to finish that?" she asks, and you look down at the plate before shaking your head and playing with the plastic fork.

"Nah, do you want the last bite?" you offer, looking back up at her. She nods eagerly, and you hand her the plate.

"Can you feed it to me, though?" she asks with a mischievous glint in her eye. You raise an eyebrow, wondering what she's up to, but ultimately nod and move to straddle her. As you hand her the fork, she grabs your leg and pulls it over her waist, holding onto your waist as you lean down to feed her the last bite of cake.

"This is extra, you could have just taken the plate from me," you comment, slightly annoyed but unable to hide your smile.

"I know, but you look cute when you're flustered," Vanessa teases, smirking up at you. You playfully roll your eyes before planting a quick kiss on her lips.

"Let's go shower now," you say, trying to get up, but Vanessa's grip on your waist tightens.

"One more kiss," she pleads, and you sigh, knowing she won't let you go until you comply. You give her a tight-lipped smile before leaning down to give her another quick kiss, but she surprises you by deepening the kiss, her tongue exploring your mouth. You moan against her lips as you taste the cake on her tongue.

As the kiss intensifies, you feel Vanessa's hand move from the back of your head to rest on your cheek, and she breaks the kiss, her thumb lightly tracing your bottom lip. You catch your breath, looking down at her with a dazed expression.

"Do you still want to shower?" she asks with a playful glint in her eye, and you shyly nod, hiding your face in the crook of her neck.

"But we should take one together to save water," you suggest, your voice muffled against her skin. Vanessa hums in agreement, her voice teasing as she replies, "Sure, just because you want to save water."

You can't help but smile against her neck as you lift your head to look at her with a mock serious expression.

"Vanessa, that's gross. We both have our periods," you say, feigning disgust at what she was suggesting. But Vanessa just shrugs, not fazed by your comment.

"So what?" she replies with a smirk, and you can't help but laugh at her nonchalant response.

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Tbh idk if this is short or long but I can tell you it sucks ass but I’m so fucking tired with school and shit I got lazy at the ending and I’m so sorry abt that 😭 I promise future fics won’t be this ass.

[playboysaleen]

Metanoia (or not?...)

Metanoia:(n) meta·​noia - a transformative change of heart...especially : a spiritual conversion

Part 1. Part 2.

Parings: Wednesday x Dracula!Reader (GN)

Warnings: they are a little older(19, lets say nevermore is a college), Blood, swearing, fighting, death, and.. some other grimey stuff. (i'm not a big word person.)

WordCount: 3.9k

note: I am adding some extra characters to fit the story line for both this fic and the show. Also, the reader is masc tbh.

Your nickname is D. For Di- Dracula. For Dracula. or Drac

________________

"D, open up." Xavier banged against the door of your dorm, "Ugh, you damn little-" he grumbled grabbing the lockpick from his pocket unlocking your door. You laid at the end of the bed in a deep slumber, drool sliding off the pillow onto the floor and your hand and leg hanging off the edge. Xavier grabbed the end of your blanket yanking the fabric off your warm body. The cold breeze hit your cold skin but a satisfied hum slipped your mouth as you sunk more into your pillow.

"You better get up before Wednesday catches you like this," Xavier whispered harshly. Your eyes snapped open catching the tall boy, "Wednesday's coming?" He nodded walking to your closet going through your clothes. Rolling your eyes at his mumbling, "You only have uniforms, White, Black, Gray and ONE purple shirt. Good thing we're going shopping today." You jumped off the bed walking to the bathroom in your dorm. Thank god Principal Weems caught your looks you have your parents when the two dragged out the "She" and "her", and of course the ascending.

"I can't afford any, my parents thought it was nice to kick me out empty handed." You bluntly replied, walking out the bathroom grabbing the outfit Xavier picked out for you. Eyeing the folded clothes, you shrugged your shoulders, walking back into the bathroom.

"Make sure you brush your teeth, i can smell the mountain lion breath." You laughed at his comment waving your toothbrush from the crack of the door. Once you finished freshening up and putting on the clothes Xavier picked out you smiled softly at how the outfit came out. That boy knows how to dress, but at how you looked you finally remembered the gothic girl.

"Why is Wednesday coming?" You yelled out grabbing the necklace by the sink placing it around your neck. You can't lie, you really liked the simple outfit you had on. White shirt, black skinny jeans with your chuck taylors and finally your rings and necklace but there is something missing.

"X?" You called out, he didn't answer your question. Slicking back your short wavy hair letting a strand fall on your face you mindlessly walked out adjusting your rings, you heard a small squeak. You looked up to see Enid, Ajax and the girl that has been haunting your dreams....and nightmares the last four days.

"It's missing something," Enid spoke eyeing your outfit, Xavier nodded along and Ajax shrugged his shoulder. Your black biker jacket was tossed your way which you caught swiftly eyeing the person who tossed it.

"Black is the key to fashion." Wednesday spoke, you could only nod her way placing it on. Enid smiled widely wrapping her arms around Ajax.

"That's it! Now lets go!" Everyone followed Enid out the door yet you stood back grabbing the bracelet that hid behind the picture frame. You glanced to see Wednesday taking a seat on your bed, these assholes set me up. They knew this would be a good time to get us both alone. Was Wednesday in on this?

"Why have you been avoiding me?" The firmness in her voice made the venom in your veins run cold. You placed your hand on your desk leaning forward at the echo in her voice that boomed in your ears. It almost felt as if you haven't heard her voice in years.

"You wouldn't understand." You whispered placing on the bracelet. Making your way to the door,

" Help me understand."

She whispered so lowly that one with heightened hearing could not catch...but you heard those three words as if you sat in front of arena speakers on full blast, You gripped the door handle huffing loudly giving one last glance towards the girl before exiting your room.

->

You walked side by side with Xavier down the streets of Jericho eyeing the odd stores, you ignored the mumbling of the tall boy as you both made a sharp turn into a shop that actually caught your attention.

"Alright, lets get you some outfits." he sang tapping Ajax as the beanied boy skipped off into the back. Enid circled around you eyeing your shirt and jeans,

"So to my observations, you are not a very colorful person." You shook your head glancing at the siren that walked into the shop. She eyes you four lightly laughing.

"You trust these three to dress you?"

"I mean i am not the one buying," you spoke running your fingers along the flannels that caught your attention, "should i trust you in dressing me?" She sent you a smirk strutting towards you in a way you quirked your eyebrow. Only a few inches from you, she grabbed the flannel that you rested your hand on and walked to another aisle.

After an hour of shaking your head, gagging lightly, and a few slight nods you finally walked out of the store with at least six bags in your hands. You followed the three and surprisingly Bianca into the coffee shop taking a seat into the booth. After ordering, you had a small conversation with Enid as Ajax draped his arm over her shoulder. You slid out from the booth walking to the corner grabbing the sugar adding some to your drink.

"So you are the feral animal Wednesday doesn't seem to shut up about."

You continued to add more items to your drink letting a small smile appear on your face.

"I wouldn't put feral and animal in the same sentence if you are trying to intimidate me." He placed his hands on the counter leaning forward so that his face was close to your ear.

"Why all of a sudden you show up and Wednesday is all about you." He whispered, you smirked at the forced act the boy is trying to flaunt out, "You could be the hyde." You finally leaned back eyeing the boy.

"Hyde?" The brown haired boy thumped your drink causing the hot liquid to spill over your biker jacket. Growling softly, you stared at the boy through your lashes praying to anyone listening that he gets the hell out of your face. You heard footsteps come to an halt behind you,

"Is there a problem here kids?" You turned to see man in a uniform with a sheriff badge shining in your face. You shook your head, glancing back at the boy whose face held a smirk you desperately wanting to wipe off.

"No Sheriff, this young man here sure knows how to welcome a new face to Jericho." the sarcasm you spoke flew over his head which he sent a tight lipped smile your way then looking back up at the boy.

"Make sure you go to your meeting with Dr.Kimbott today." The sheriff scolded the boy who only nodded cleaning the mess he made. He sent you one last last before exiting the cafe.

"Welcome to Jericho," He whispered sliding a new coffee your way, "Hyde." You grabbed the cup awaiting the right moment to throw it into his face when another presence was felt next to you.

"Tyler."

Wednesday's voice boomed in your ears once again, she kept her eyes glued to the boy in front of you that kept that damn smirk on his face. Once he locked eyes with the girl next to you he sent her a bright smile sliding her a black coffee.

"Hey Wednesday, we still up for tonight?" Your eyes snapped to the girl who stood frozen, a new feeling erupted in your stomach. oh how bad it felt, was it jealousy? Anger? Cause at this point you wanted to jump over the counter and rip his head off his neck. You cleared your throat leaning over grabbing the sugar again.

Your free hand brushed against the gothic girls which caused the world to stop. She gasped flinching at the sudden bolt of electricity that was sent through her body. She wouldn't admit to it if someone asked her...but she grew infatuated with the new feelings you were giving her. A glance to see those golden eyes, the poisoned veins that she witnessed under the moonlight a few days ago. The coldness in your touch but felt as if she placed her hand on a lit stove. In the eyes of others, you would be labeled a monster, but to her....if she ever were to say how she felt out loud it would be shoving a hot rod into her throat, but you were no beast to her.

You were home.

"Yes Tyler, we are."

"I guess i'll be heading back to Nevermore. Don't forget your meeting with your therapist Tyler, we'd hate to see a normal being with horrible daddy issues." You smiled at the boy whose face turned red in anger. Wednesdays fingers wrapped around your wrist as you jerked back facing her.

"I'll meet you in your dorm in an hour." You knitted your eyebrows at the sudden demand. You sent a nod gazing into her dark eyes, the coldness in her touch seemed to dismiss the wave of emotions you've felt towards the boy in front of you. Finally letting go, you made your way out the cafe down the streets of Jericho.

"So glad we have a dislike towards that normie." Xavier walked beside you on the way back to the bus stop.

"I show up and i already have an enemy" you joked as the two of you stopped at the corner of an antique store awaiting the bus or your friends. You saw the tall boy held all your bags which you quickly took,

"Let me be a gentlemen." You chuckled shaking your head, "sorry love, you and i both know that is NOT happening." You both broke into a fit of giggles at the thought of you two being something. That will not be happening in any lives you choose to live. A car appeared at the stop where you two stood. Turning your head, your smile dropped at the sight of Principal Weems sending you a death glare through the passenger seat window.

"In. Now." The power in her voice almost made your knees buck in. You inhaled sharply tossing the bags into the back seat and getting into the front.

"I'll see you back at Nevermore D." Xavier spoke from the sidewalk. You nodded his way as the car began to drive away. After a few minutes of silence, uncomfortable silence at that. Weems decided to finally speak.

"After a few days of talking to your parents and going over the process of an ascendant. I assumed you had your first bite?" You grumbled a 'yes' but oddly, you eye the turn Weems made that stopped in front of the cafe.

"Just need to grab Wednesday." Your eyes popped out your head at the name as you sunk into your seat. A few minutes went by and the small girl made her way out the main doors. You closed your eyes inhaling the vanilla scent that caused a growl to bubble in your throat. Oh god you thought, not now.

"I can smell your hormones from here." Weems spoke as she began her drive back to Nevermore. You shook your head holding your breath but that did not do you any good.

"Principal Weems, they need to feed." Once her voice was heard in the car you felt a pressure against your gums as your fangs appeared. You quickly bowed your head placing on your hood hiding the darkened veins that tinted underneath your eyes. The scent of your second weakness filled your nose as a bag was tossed onto your lap. Grabbing the tube quickly shoving it into your mouth slurping the bag dry. A moan slipped your mouth as you tilted your head back.

Wednesdays eyes darted to your side profile as your hood slid off your head. A small trail of the blood slid down your jaw as a smile made its way to your face. You turned towards Principal Weems flashing her a fanged smile. Weems rolled her eyes pointing to the glovebox, you huffed happily grabbing the blood bag slurping on the tube.

"From what i've read, younger ascendant's turn out to be the strongest in the blood line but the last ascendent like you was..." Weems stopped taking a sharp inhale parking at the Nevermore entrance.

"Alucard."

You scoffed at the name your family spoke about during meetings as you grew up. 'He is Hades himself' 'He will be the reason of our extinction' 'We do not need another young ascendent, it'll be the end of us all.' What a joke, like you could ever be as strong as this boogeyman or anything like him.

"Might as well place my head on a stick and give my mate my heart." You spat at the principal. Hopping out the car heading towards the gate, Wednesday sat in the back observing your body language. She knew you were scared, the wave of anxiousness she felt that sent her to place her sweaty palms on her knees.

"Enough with your childish antics! to prevent this outcome you must follow your parents advice for the sake of your life and Nevermore!" Weems spoke as she exited the car stomping after you. the small girl hopped out the car leaning against the door.

"Follow their advice?!" You snapped around to face Weems with darkened veins. "They are the monsters! Threw me out on my own for the most harmless thing us first lines could ever have!!" You growled out pacing back and forth in front of the gate. "I'm gay and now here i am." You huffed pinching the bridge of your nose trying your best to contain the tears threatening to fall. Weems face fell inching her way towards you,

"Understand here at Nevermore we do not discriminate or treat you any different for who or what you are." She whispered placing a hand on your back as you were hunched over letting a sob fall from your mouth. Wednesday cleared her throat taking a few steps standing next to you.

"If you want, i can accompany them to their dorm." Weems sent a small smile nodding her head. You lifted your head face now bare from the fangs and veins,

"Let's go." You spoke walking to the gates, awaiting for the entrance to open you looked over your shoulder at Principal Weems sending her a nod, "Thank you." She nodded your way sliding into the driver seat. The gates opened as you stood to the side letting wednesday head in, following after her.

"I expect you both in my office Monday afternoon!"

Crossing the campus to the secluded dorms you both reached your own as you unlocked the door heading in. You took a couple steps then stopped causing Wednesday to bump into you. Your instincts kicked in as you moved an arm back gripping the girls waist. You looked back sending her a look,

"Stay behind me." Wednesday could only nod at your order. Anything you'd tell her to do, she wouldn't think twice. Going against all her rules and promises in her book, she trusted you. Your eyes scanned the room as a familiar scent filled your nostrils, no one in sight but you felt a presence in the room.

"I'm surprised you replaced me," A voice spoke from the shadows. You let out a loud growl gripping the gothic girls waist tighter pulling her closer to your back. The voice walked into your dimmed room flashing you a fanged smile.

"I was giving you a year." Your eyes widen as the boy strutted taking a seat on your bed. Wednesday peeked from behind you locking eyes with the stranger, he smiled wide eyeing her.

"Definitely not your type, but i can see why you picked her."

"Alex." You whispered eyeing your best friend that leaned over placing his forearms on his thighs.

"Y/n."

"What did they do to you?" He howled in laughter as he stood up fixing his bracelet on his wrist.

"What did they do to me?! They changed my life, they helped me, they did what YOU couldn't do!" He yelled flashing his fangs, his eyes were pitch black. From the corner of your eye you seen Wednesday companion- thing hiding under the bed. Motioning your hand that trapped Wednesday, Thing sunk into the darkness.

"You're a newborn." You started letting go of Wednesday which she was quick to grab your wrist. Your heart skipped a beat at the action but yanked your hand away keeping your eyes locked on the boy. "Did you think letting a random brancher turn you would make you invincible? Oh Alex..." You stretched out his name sliding the biker jacket off tossing it across the room.

"They just made you their bitch." Alex's face fell letting his fangs show, you quickly pushed Wednesday out the door shutting it. Wednesday gasped at the growls, snarls and objects being broken on the other side. Her legs acted upon themselves running to the first person that came to mind.

You on the other hand...

"Fucking stop Alex!" You growled out pushing the boys head against the wall. He elbowed your stomach loosening your grip sending his head back to yours. Stumbling onto the floor, Alex straddled your waist punching you straight in the nose. A crack echoed in the room as you bucked your hips flying him into your desk. You stood up running out the balcony door with him hot on your tail. Vaulting over the railing, almost a three story drop you landed swiftly on your feet as a gruesome 'THUMP' sounded next to you. Alex groaned loudly wobbling as he stood.

"I'm.. going to rip your heart.. out." Alex roared as the venom dripped from his fangs. You flashed your doubled fangs planting your feet into the dirt beneath you.

"I'd like to see you try."

-><-

Wednesday pounded her fist against the tall door, "Xavier!" the door swung open as the tall boy knitted his eyebrows confusion as the gothic girls had actual tears brimming her eyes.

"Y/n. They-"

"Where are they?" Xavier didn't give the girl time to finish her sentence. He grabbed a small bag from the corner rushing out the room hot on Wednesdays tail.

"I have Enid getting Yoko and her group to the quad." Wednesday spoke making a sharp turn skipping down the stairs.

"How do you know they're in the quad?" Xavier asked, Wednesday shook her head looking back at the boy.

"I just...know."

Enid and the rest of the crew turned the corner seeing the fight between the two.

You tossed Alex against the wall blurring to the other side of the quad. Xavier grabbed the dagger from the backpack tossing it onto the grass.

"Drac!" You turned at your name to catch Thorpes gaze eyeing the weapon against the grass. Blurring to the object, Alex met you half way swinging his fist into your jaw. Flying to the fountain your head hit the edge causing your vision to blur. He grabbed your arm moving it into a position that sent a wail/snarl out your mouth.

"You're weak and reek of animal blood. Such a shame i'll be the one draining that mate of yours tonight." Alex growled grabbing you by your neck lifting you up as a display for everyone to see.

"One last look at your little friends before you see Alucard." Alex laughed out. Your eyes filled with black as Weems words played in your head. Wednesday held her breath as Alex dropped you to the ground grabbing the dagger. She couldn't lose you now. Standing still she whispered once again that banged against your eardrums.

"Don't you dare die on me." You felt a rush of adrenaline course through your body as you blurred into the boy knocking the weapon out his hands.

"The difference between me and you..." you started digging your fingers into his chest, the venom that dripped from your fangs landed onto his check that burned into the boys flesh.

"I am the first blood line to roam the earth..." Alex whimpered at the dominance you expressed over him, shaking his head he pleaded to be spared. A new voice rang in your head as you exposed his neck,

"I am... "

"No Y/n, please.."

"Dracula."

You pierced your fangs into his neck silencing his pleas and drinking him dry. Alarm bells rang in your head, this was not the way. But if you hadn't he would've killed them all and who would stop him? Yoko and the other vamps are no match for a newborn. Their stronger, faster, and feral. You couldn't let someone else die because of you, but then you wonder... who turned him?

During the ascendent trials from other families, they were fed only a certain type of blood. mixtures of animal, human, and branched families. Drinking a small amount to keep them from acting out like a newborn. Then you realized, you did not do your ascendent trial. You felt a small pinch in your neck that seemed to snap you out your daze. Yanking your mouth away from the pale boy, you jumped up looking for a threat. Everyone around you waved flags but your body seemed to be going numb. Slapping your hand against your neck where the pinch seemed to send a buzzing feeling through your body, you spotted the fencing coach with a weapon in his hand.

"Y/n, please stand down." Your hazy eyes wandered to the voice of Principal Weems that stood outside the main doors with a vial in her hands. You snarled attempting to place one foot in front of the other which caused you to fall onto the ground.

Wednesday acted upon herself and made her way towards you. Enid was to slow to grab her and Weems yelled out for her to stop but nothing and no one mattered at that moment but you. She kneeled next to you placing her hand against your bloodied jaw.

"I don't understand why i feel this pull towards you but you need to listen or i will not see you again."

A muffled growl slipped your mouth as you laid limp beneath the girl but soon you became bare once more.

"I couldn't let him hurt you." you whispered, Wednesday opened her mouth to speak but arms were locked around you, lifting you up onto your wobbly feet.

"Where are you taking them?" Xavier yelled at Weems as the two men dragged you out the quad. Principal Weems kept her head high turning towards the group of kids,

"Somewhere safe. They are in danger."

Wednesday and Xavier followed the principal wanting the right answers. "What do you mean they're in danger?" Xavier shouted but stopped once the taller woman turned towards the two.

"Someone more powerful than anyone in Nevermore."

"Who?" Wednesday finally asked, eyeing you behind the glass that the three stopped in front of. You were still under the trance of the incorrect dosage of blood and what made it worse is you drank from a newborn. You were feral. You grabbed one of the guard tossing him against the wall as the other lit the electric baton sending it into your side knocking you to your knees. The principal released a shaky breath glancing back at the two students.

"Alucard." She started but gasped when the lights flickered throughout the school.

"The devil himself."

___________________

Im not good at tag lists, but-

@awolfcsworld @myfturn @l4venderia @natashamaximoff69

Alright, let me start on chapter 3.

Thank you all for the reads!!

[strawhbrrries]

Can't Shoot Whiskey

pairing: frankie morales x afab!garcia!reader

summary: you can’t shoot whiskey and somehow you end up in frankie’s room.

warnings: (shitty) smut, frankie doesn’t get off but reader does, fingerings and some oral (f receiving), mentions of alcohol, overly protective santi???, no use of y/n, not proofread

word count: 1753 words

author’s note: this is my first attempt at smut so i hope it’s not like horrible, if it is…kindly refrain from telling me or i’ll think about it for the rest of my life lol. this is also like a thousand words less than the joel fluff so i'm not entirely satisfied but please enjoy &lt;3

The beer burned your throat, you were never a beer person and you never would be but you were hanging out with your older brother and his friends. Beer was your only option. You grimaced at the taste, if it had been up to you there would be a fruity cocktail in place of the brown bottle in your hand. Carrie Underwood may have bashed a woman who couldn’t shoot whiskey, yes you didn’t know how to either, but you quite preferred your fruity drinks.

“Yoohoo!” Frankie whistled, snapping his fingers in front of your face to try and bring you back to reality.

“What?” Your attention snapped to the man in front of you, of all your brother’s friends you always found Frankie to be the most attractive but you would never let any of them know.

“I asked you a question.” He relaxed back into the lawn chair and took a sip of his, oh so disgusting, beer.

“I- uh- what did you ask?” You replied sheepishly, a pink hue lighting up your cheeks. Mentally cursing yourself for thinking too much about Carrie Underwood and fruity drinks. “Quit reaching across an open flame, Frankie, that’s how you get caught on fire.” 

“Asked if you needed another beer or if you wanted Pope to get you something else from the store. Also, pretty girl, being caught on fire would not even make the list of worst injuries I’ve endured.” Frankie took another sip of his beer, spreading his legs to get more comfortable, and tipped his head toward your brother who was currently leaning on the door waiting for an answer.

“I mean if it’s not too much trouble, just something fruity that you think I'd like! Thanks Santi!” Maybe thinking about Carrie Underwood did pay off.

“Can’t shoot whiskey?” Benny teased, ruffling your hair as he walked past to sit in his seat. 

“Shut the fuck up Benny, you can barely drink the beer in your hand.” Frankie defended you, rolling his eyes at the man who was now staring at the beer in his hand. You squeezed your thighs a bit, the fact that he was coming to your defense was making him all that more attractive. 

“I’m going inside for a second, I’ll be right back.” You smiled to the bickering boys in front of you, getting up and smoothing out your dress before walking inside.

The house was empty of anybody except for yourself, this wasn’t a house you were particularly used to visiting as Frankie being a host was a once in a blue moon occasion. You had only visited the house previously once before and only for a few minutes, finding a bathroom to freshen up in was now going to be a bit of a problem. If you took too long, someone was going to come looking and what if you looked like a creep snooping around Frankie’s house. 

Instead of asking, you did just what you were afraid of being caught doing…snooping. Logically the one hallway in the house was where the bathroom could be found, probably at the very end, but you wanted to take your time and make your acquaintance with the house. You could tell where every window and door is in Miller’s house, where every light switch is in Sant’s house, it was only fair you get to learn the layout of Frankie’s.

Frankie’s room was the first room on the right down the only hallway in the house, no decor (shocker) and simple gray bed sheets were the only really ‘noticeable’ things in the room. His bedroom was, conveniently, attached to a bathroom which was a lot cleaner than you expected for a single man who lived on his own. You were in the process of finger combing your hair when the sound of someone clearing their throat startled you.

“The guest bathroom isn’t in here. It’s by the kitchen, actually.” Frankie spoke, matter of factly. You don’t know if he had just shown up or if he had been following you, his position of leaning on the door hinted to the latter. 

You gave him a soft smile before going back to combing your hair, you didn’t really have a response that wasn’t a tad weird so you opted to avoid the whole interaction. 

“The Miller boys are leavin and Pope is caught up in some traffic, no clue how long he’ll be.”  Frankie tried his best to make conversation with you, truth be told he liked you quite a bit but he planned on taking that secret to the grave. Apparently, having a thing for your best friend's little sister is frowned upon or something like that. Not that he cared more than the next guy, just simply avoiding the arguments with Santi to save his sanity.

“You look like you have something else to say.” You took in his appearance, admiring how handsome he looked. His shirt was just the right fit, a tad tight around the biceps (your favorite), and his jeans hugging his thighs so deliciously. Turning around to face him and not the mirror, you had a mental struggle on whether or not to make the first move. You, kinda, did by tracing small figures on the arm he had hanging down by his side and looking up at him while you waited for a response.

“God, your brother is gonna kill me.” He mumbled, you could barely make out the words but the pained expression on his face told you everything. If you were the last person he kissed before he inevitably met his maker, at the hands of your brother, he would die a happy man.

“And why’s that?” The words to a bystander would mean anything, but between you two they were heavy. You squeezed his bicep softly, closing the small gap between your bodies.

“‘S pretty, just need to have ya.” His self control was waning and the way you were looking at him wasn’t helping, nor was it helping the ever growing problem in his jeans. He readjusted his cock, his attempt at being discreet failing. It did, however, cause you to smile and blush bright red which was a win in Frankie’s book.

“So have me, Francisco.” Your words were barely out of your mouth before his lips were on yours, it shocked you at first. Not because you thought he wasn’t going to kiss you, but because you didn’t expect it to be just the right amount of roughness. His mustache was scratching against you, it only fueled the desire you had for him.

“He is gonna kill me.” He reiterated, both of you knew if Santi found out there would be hell to pay. You didn’t care, both of you were adults and it wasn’t a crime to have fun with a man. Even if he was your brother’s best friend.

“What he doesn’t know won’t kill him.” You whispered against his lips, breathing in the scent of the fire on his clothes and tasting the beer on his tongue. You decided you could tolerate the taste as long as it came from him. 

Frankie groaned in response, if your brother wasn’t the cause of his death you certainly would be. He turned his attention to trailing kisses down your neck and caressing your body to burn every curve into his memory. Your hands soon found themselves in his hair, holding onto it as if it was the only thing keeping you grounded on the earth. 

“So fuckin’ pretty,” he mumbled into your skin, “So soft, can I?” He asked softly, toying with the hem of your dress waiting for you to give him a clear yes. 

With the shake of your head Frankie was on his knees with half your dress pulled up enough for him to see your underwear, just a simple black pair as you hadn’t planned on being eaten out tonight. A whimper slipped past your lips as he moved your underwear to the side, gliding his index finger in between your folds and collecting your slick. He groaned again at the taste of you, sitting back on his heels to admire the sight of you that was once just a dream. 

“So wet, baby. Who did this?” He teased, gliding his finger between your folds and tapping your clit once while he waited on an answer.

“You did, Frankie.” Your words quiet, small whimpers escaping as he messed with your clit. 

He traced small circles around it, building you up before letting you come back down. To make up for his cruelty, he slowly slid a finger inside of you. Thrusting it ever so slowly.

“Frankie please.” 

“What, baby? use your words.” He inserted another finger along with the one already inside of you. He knew exactly what you wanted, he just wanted to hear you say it out loud. Help him convince himself this wasn’t a dream he was going to wake up from.

“Need more, please Frankie please.” 

Your wish was his command. He sped up the thrust of his fingers and leaned forward to attach his mouth to your clit, circling it with his tongue and occasionally sucking. Both of you knew your brother would be back anytime now, as much as you both wanted to savor the moment, you needed to be fast. Frankie continued his ministrations, taking hint from the moans leaving your mouth that you were getting close. 

The knot in your stomach was growing and you were so fucking close, so close you could grasp it, when you heard the front door open. Fuck. Your orgasm ripped through you, Frankie fucking you with his fingers all the way through, causing you to slap your hand over your mouth in fear of a single noise making its way out. 

“Did so good, pretty girl, so so good.” Frankie praised you, sliding your underwear back into place and letting your dress fall back into place. He got up off the floor and maneuvered past your body, which was slumped against the bathroom door, to wash his hands. 

“Sorry I can’t return the favor.” You apologized, resting your head back on the door to regain some strength. 

“Next time.” He smiled at you, placing a soft kiss to your lips and fixing the stray hairs that had gone wild.

“What the fuck?!” Santi yelled, standing in the doorway of Frankie’s bedroom, watching the entire exchange between you and his best friend go down.

[silentvoicescryingout]

Blossom

A conversation between Haruno Mebuki, Sakura's mother, and Sakura that is about her relationship (lack thereof) with Sasuke, but also not about him at all.

Read on Ao3

Loud knocks sounded against her door and Sakura was jolted awake. She stood and walked to the window, a quick peek through the curtains causing her to groan and close them back aggressively.

Soreness throbbed deep in her limbs, the after affects of chakra exhaustion leaving her feeling wrung out and brittle. She had no paste, and was unsure how much she could tolerate after the emotional disaster that was the night before.

The knocks sounded again, harder and louder this time and Sakura hissed a curse, trudging over to the door while trying to smooth her hair away from her face simultaneously.

When the door swung open, her own eyes stared back at her.

“Good morning,” Haruno Mebuki greeted, eyes flitting briefly over Sakura’s form. “I had hoped you wouldn’t be so rude to ignore your mother when she came to visit.”

“Come in, Mom,” Sakura sighed, offering a weak smile. She stepped back slightly to allow her mom to enter, scowling as soon as the woman’s back was turned.

Be nice, Sakura.

“You know, it’s been quite a while since you’ve come to see your father and I, my little blossom,” her mother noted, pacing about her living room absentmindedly. Sakura’s lip twitched as she watched the woman reach out and shift items around, as if she owned the place.

“Sorry, Mom,” Sakura cleared her throat, standing awkwardly by the threshold. “I’ve been...busy.”

“Too busy to take care of yourself, hm?” she replied, peering at Sakura over her shoulder. Green eyes roved from the top of her head to the tips of her toes.

Suddenly Sakura was a child again, tiny and inadequate under that stare. Instinctively, she adjusted her posture.

“Ah, I was training late last night,” Sakura said awkwardly, resisting the urge to fidget with her hands. “Give me a second to freshen up and I’ll make us some tea. Please, make yourself comfortable.”

Sakura skittered to her bedroom before the older woman could give a response. When the door shut behind her she leaned against it heavily, covering her mouth with both hands to muffle a frustrated scream.

Of all the days, all the people, her mother decided to pay her a visit. As if Sakura was not already suffering enough.

Sakura groaned and moved her hands to tug lightly at her tangled hair. It wasn’t that she did not want to see her mother… it was that she preferred to take her in doses. Spread far apart, and within a controlled window of time. Usually an hour or less. Her father being there as a buffer was always a bonus.

Her mind whirred as she went about disrobing. Her shift started in three hours, that was too much time. She could limit this visit by at least twenty minutes to account for walking to the hospital, slowly.

She decided to take a nice, extended shower. She’d probably end up being scolded for keeping her mother waiting, but it would balance out by limiting the time she had to spend talking to her. Sakura nodded to herself, taking her time going about her routine. Once clean, she even went so far as carefully towel drying, brushing and putting neat braids at the front of her hair. She applied a tinted lip balm, pinched her cheeks and exhaled before throwing on her clothes and going back out to face her unexpected guest.

Part of her hoped against hope that she had simply left, weary of waiting.

“You always did take long showers,” her mother said nonchalantly as she stepped into the living room.

Sakura froze at the sight of her mother sitting seiza with her entire traditional tea set spread over her small table. There were small plates with colorful wagashi atop them.

“I figured I’d set up while I waited,” her mother gestured across the table. “Sit. I brought your favorite sweets.”

Sakura obeyed, focusing closely on her posture. She said a quiet thanks, taking a bite of the soft sweet. Silence settled over them as her mom began to prepare the tea.

“Your hair, it’s nice to see that you’re growing it out again,” the older woman did not lift her eyes as she spoke, focused on her task.

She watched her mother’s hands as she worked, a pang of nostalgia stabbing into her chest. Mebuki’s hands were small, smooth pale skin covering delicate bones and tendons. The fingers moved like they were dancing, something that had enthralled Sakura since she could remember. They seemed so graceful, so steady and sure. She had tried many times to mimic those movements, that elegant softness, but she had never quite got it right.

Her own hands were littered with scars, now, suited only for precision in surgery and devastation in battle.

“Taste,” her mother murmured, placing the small cup of steaming liquid in front of Sakura. “Tell me if that’s still how you like it.”

The earthy scent of the tea wafted up to her nose and Sakura got a closer look at Mebuki’s hands. They still looked soft and elegant, but they seemed even more delicate now. The skin of them thinner, fragile-looking-- blue veins just barely visible underneath, knuckles more prominent even as the fingers straightened in their retreat.

Sakura sipped her tea slowly, just as Mom had taught her. She closed her eyes as the flavor spread over her taste buds, reminding her of summer afternoons, her favorite sweets and an extra bit of sugar.

“It’s perfect,” she whispered, bowing her head slightly. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” the older woman replied, taking her own small sip. She peered at her from over the rim. “So, what’s keeping you so busy that you can’t come say hello to your parents from time to time?”

“Work,” Sakura responded, sipping again.

“And?” Mebuki questioned, raising a fine brow. “Personally, I’ve been praying it’s a man.”

Sakura choked slightly, “Um..”

“But I hope it’s not that Uchiha,” she sneered, and it confused Sakura how the expression could be so beautiful and so ugly at the same time. “Your obsession with him never did you any good.”

“How would you know what good or bad it did me?” Sakura snapped, placing her cup down. “You never cared about anything I did once I decided to become a shinobi.”

Two pairs of green eyes clashed and Sakura could see a flash of irritation in the mirror-image lenses, but Mebuki stayed silent, opting to take a slow sip of her still-steaming tea.

"I have come to accept your decisions, as you gave me little choice,” she eventually supplied. “It is my only wish that you would come to take some of my own advice for you, as well.”

“And what is that?” Sakura questioned, her cheeks burning. Her fingers fidgeted in her lap. “Retire from the shinobi forces, marry a civilian man, and build a civilian family in a civilian home? My career and lifestyle is not just some phase I will go through, I will die a shinobi.”

“And you’ll die the child of a civilian woman, who raised you in a civilian family,” the words were sharp, softened only by the natural smoothness of her mother’s voice. “Do not forget, my daughter, that you, too, were brought up in a civilian home.”

“I want more,” she muttered.

“Just because I never bled for Konoha, does not mean that my existence is less,” there was offense in the set of her jaw and Sakura felt guilt drop like lead into her stomach. “It was my lineage that stitched the clothes you and your peers wear to battle, civilian hands that planted and harvested everything you ever ate.”

“I’m sorry,” Sakura apologized, and she might as well have been a toddler, shrunken under the intensity of a familiar stare. The gravity of her insult hit her and she felt sick, ashamed.

She had pummeled Naruto for talking about civilians in a less belittling way.

“I don’t think any less of civilians,” she insisted, dipping her chin in apology, “but...in the end, it was not the life I wanted. And you never respected that.”

“It was never a matter of respect,” she scoffed.

“Then what?” Sakura asked and her voice sounded small then, too.

“You chose a dangerous life,” Mebuki said sternly. “You surrounded yourself with dangerous people…”

“Mom,” Sakura said warningly. “Those dangerous people saved this village.”

“I’ve heard the whispers,” her mother said, tone serious. Chiding. “People say that you’ve been going about with that Uchiha boy.”

“His name is Sasuke,” she grit her teeth at the taste of his name in her mouth. Her skin prickled with aggravation, the ghost of old arguments lurking about the space. “And he is my teammate. My friend.”

“He left you unconscious on a bench,” Mebkui scowled, distaste twisting her soft features. “With no care for you or your little crush. Not one bit of care.”

“And you never once let me forget it,” Sakura chuckled darkly. The tea was cold but she gulped it down nonetheless, swallowing more unsavory words and years of unuttered grievances with it.

“You shouldn’t forget it,” green eyes flashed. “If you expected me to stand idly by and quietly tolerate you chasing after some boy who did not want you, and worse was a traitor, a criminal…”

“You should be pleased to know that Sasuke still does not want me,” she murmured, smirking slightly. “Just like you always said. You were right- I’m sure that makes you happy.”

Mebuki sighed and suddenly her expression was softer than it had been. “I only ever wanted the best for you, Sakura.”

“You wanted the best for you, Mom,” Sakura shook her head, shocked at the burning sensation in her eyes. “Because nothing I ever wanted was good enough. I was never good enough.”

“Why ever would you say that?” her mother had the nerve to sound confused.

“I fought harder than anyone in my generation to become even half as skilled,” she said, jaw tense. It took every bit of her restraint to keep her voice steady. “And then I fought even more to surpass children with bloodlines and clans and head starts that I could never even dream of. Never once did you say that you were proud of me. You ignore my accomplishments as a medic ninja, as a shinobi because you’re ashamed of what I have become.”

“That is not true.”

“It is true,” Sakura whispered. “Every time I returned home from a mission or a hard day of training, you told me how bad of a choice I made, that my suffering was my own fault.”

“Sakura, what did you expect me to say?” Mebuki asked, nostrils flaring. There was her beautiful face, once again twisted in that ugly expression. “Should I have celebrated my child coming home bruised and battered and mourning the loss of a boy from a cursed bloodline?”

“I wanted you to be a mother and support me,” Sakura shouted. Her hands were shaking. “I didn’t need anything except for you to give me a hug and tell me things would be okay. Instead you reminded me of all the ways I wasn’t adequate, that I was not the child you dreamed of.”

The silence after her outburst was deafening. No words were spoken and Sakura swore that her mother could hear the pounding of her heart. Years of bitterness and frustration were swirling about in her gut and it made her nauseated, sick with resentment and yearning.

I just want you to be proud of me. To look at my accomplishments instead of my mistakes.

“I named you Sakura after the cherry blossoms that were in bloom the day you were born,” her mother broke the silence, voice quiet. “They were always my favorite. It was what attracted me to your father, the color. I did not know you would inherit his hair, his complexion, but I knew that you would be mine and I would love you like all of my favorite things.”

Sakura stayed quiet, a thick lump building in her throat. It took effort to swallow it down and blink away the wetness of her eyes.

“The thing I hated the most,” her mother laughed, soft, quiet. “Was when people would yank on the blossoms, steal them from their branches only to tear their petals and trod on them as they walked away. Such a pretty thing, trampled over and left bruised on the ground. I swore that I would always protect my cherry blossoms. They would stay safe and pure and beautiful until it was time for them to mature and bear fruit.”

Mebuki caught Sakura’s gaze. “But my cherry blossom didn’t want to be protected. And you were torn, trampled and bruised by the expectations of your chosen lifestyle, the belittling of sensei who refused to recognize and nurture your genius. Casting your rare beauty and purity before someone who was too broken inside to even bother to take a moment to look at it. It made me sad. Angry, even.”

“Is a cherry blossom no good anymore just because it’s lost some of its beauty?” Sakura whispered, a warm tear sliding down her cheek. She glanced down at her hands, scarred, calloused, rough.

“Blossoms, they never lose their beauty, because I love them so,” she replied, eyes shining in a particular way that made Sakura want to sob. “I eventually learned that whether I was there to guard them or not, they would always go on to bloom again the next spring.”

Quiet sniffles were the only sound in the room after that. Then came the clink of glass and the sound of hot liquid being poured, the scrape of sugar being scooped once, twice, a third time. The refreshed scent of jasmine wafted to her nose with the steam, her nostrils flared when small, delicate, fragile, aging hands came to rest on her shoulders. The taste of salt was bitter on the tongue, but those hands, they smelled like cherry blossoms and her mother’s embrace was sweet.

[velvetdivinity]

EXHILARATE

Ch. 1 — Madelyn

“Oh — em — gee, have you seen Ryder lately?!” Masie gasped. Madelyn studied her best friend as Masie continued her usual gossip. She was beautiful. Long blonde hair, a pointed perfect nose, slender shoulders. Nice tits, small waist. She was the epitome of the all American girl. She was what every man wanted, what every woman aspired to look like. Madelyn was nothing like her. Actually, quite the opposite. Dark hair, an exotic look some would say, tan, dark eyes. She looked more like the mistress where as Masie was the perfect Kate Spade wife.

Madelyn didn’t mind though. She was never jealous, she admired Masie.

“Maddie??” Masie snapped, literally, fingers snapping in Madelyn’s face.

“What?”

“Are you even listening? Have you seen Ryder?”

“No, I haven’t”

“Well he’s totally hot now AND he is single! Right on time for school starting back” she giggled.

Ugh, she had to remind her. In just a few days they would be starting class again. Juniors. Not that this summer break was interesting though. Masie and Madelyn both spent it binge watching Euphoria and wasting their lives away on social media. Instagram mainly.

“Well … why don’t you DM him? See how he is” Madelyn suggested.

“You’re joking. There’s no way — ”

“Girls!” Madelyns mom interrupted, walking into the room. She continued, “are either of you hungry?”

Her mom was beautiful. She resembled Masie, but older.. laugh lines from aging. She was a little taller.. Madelyns dads genetics won, clearly.

“No thanks” they synchronized.

“Anyways” Masie continued, “There is no way I’m going to message him and ask that. Besides,” she paused to finish off her lipgloss, “I’m sure he has plenty of other options that are better than me now anyways.”

Madelyn rolled my eyes, saying nothing. As much as She loved Masie, she know how much masie loved complements just as much. She has the need for validation and Madelyn wasn’t giving in. She was hot and she knew it. But, she was her best friend. She loved her. She always would. Madelyn scooted close to her and put her head on Masies shoulder, looking at her in the little hand held mirror she was holding for her lipgloss.

“Are you nervous for school?” Madelyn asked quietly.

“Babe, we have been over this. There’s no need to be nervous. You’re so smart Maddie. You’re going to kill it this year. We are going to glow up, be hot ass bitches.”

Madelyn could only let out a sarcastic laugh, imagining herself as a ‘hot ass bitch’ was comical to say the least.

An hour later Madelyn and Masie were finally done getting ready. Masie, per usual looked like she was going to a rooftop bar in Atlanta. A short pink dress with a white blazer and white heels. Maddie dressed well also but in her own way. She was wearing a black and white plaid skirt, with a black tee that read “Nirvana” and biker boots. Her tan showing through her fishnets. She touched her neck imagining how good this outfit would look with a choker, but her mom said she was too young to wear those. She disagreed, being almost 17 literally next week was plenty old enough.

“Let’s go girls” Masie sang. A Miranda Lambert dupe. She acted like they were going to a club but really they were just heading to lunch with two of their friends.

20 minutes later Maddie and Masie were in the car singing to Billie Eilish. Masie had been driving for quite a while, at least 15 minutes. She loved to drive ever since her mom had bought her first car for her; a 2016 Nissan Altima. Sure it was used and the mileage was getting up there, but it was hers and she loved it. She took care of it. It smelled like her favorite black ice air freshener and a faint hint of Marlboro blacks that she often stole from her dad. The amount of perfume the girls put on overwhelmed those smells though.

“I’m a baddddd guy” “duh!” They sang. Madelyn watched out the window, admiring the view. Well not necessarily a nice view. They lived in Nashville, Tennessee. Their once underrated town was a now a bustling and lively city. Tourists roamed the streets and live music seemed to be on every corner. It may be a fun place to live, if they were 21 and able to partake in the partying and alcohol. But they weren’t. So it seemed there was simply never enough to do here. Madelyn’s mom moved here after her parents divorce when she was 3. She couldn’t remember her parents ever being together since she was so young, and her dad basically dipped and never came back. His name was Ray, he was a musician and he liked motorcycles was all she knew about her dad. On the other hand Madelyn adored her mother. Sure she wasn’t the best but she was there. She tried. She did the best she could do under the circumstances of being a single mom in a quickly growing — including costs- economy. She made sure Madelyn was taken care of. Sure they wore secondhand consignment clothing and Maddie didn’t have the nicest car, but she made sure they looked more expensive then they really were. Mary, Madelyn’s mother, worked from home just to ensure she was always there when her father couldn’t be. She was responsible. Loving. Kind. Analytical and decisive. She was strong and independent. Everything Madelyn aspired to be but clearly took after her dad in more ways than just her appearance. She was artistic. She loved to write. She loved creating something from nothing and Maddie was abrasive and short tempered. She was diagnosed with borderline personality disorder at just 16. She just felt so deeply and her emotions would take the best of her.. but when she loved someone, she loved to the fullest extent, and she only truly ever loved two people. Her mom and Masie.

“We’re here — FUCK” Masie gasped. Gaping out the window. “Oh my god oh my god Maddie look that’s him!” Madelyn followed her stare, and sure enough it was. Tall, athletic, tan, muscular. Ryder clearly hit puberty late and it was damn good to him. There he was, walking in with a girl who was about 5’1 and had hair that reminded her of the girl in Game of Thrones. Daenerys, she thought.

“Damn he’s actually.. really hot” Madelyn mumbled.

“Right?! Told ya! Come on let’s go”

They walked into the little eatery. It was one of the only ones left that tourists hadn’t totally taken over. Lockeland Table, the sign read. Here you could find all American cuisines, chill vibes and locals. Unfortunately that meant running into acquaintances from school but the fact was the short waiting times and atmosphere was just too good to pass up. A rarity in Nashville that had became.

They sat down at their table and right on time Astrid and Heat came walking in. Odd names I know. Astrid was born with her name. Her mom just was in a hippie phase. Heat chose his name a few summers ago because nobody could pronounce his actual name, Bartolome. Apparently everyone pronounced it wrong and he just got kinda tired of it, so he decided to change it. That’s about the time he came out as gay. He really just wanted a new identity, a change. So Bartolome became Heat and it stuck ever since.

Madelyn studied them as they came walking to the table. Astrid was a heavier set girl. Short. But she pulled it off nicely. At 180lbs and 5’2 she really looked more like 160. It was how she dressed and also her stunning facial features really took away from any extra weight she had. Not only that but Astrid was heavier in all the right areas. Her breasts and hips. Her thighs. Her stomach was average and her arms were just a little chubby. She flaunted a crop top showing some cleavage and high waisted skinny jeans. Her long brown hair flowed in waves and her makeup was an entire mood. Smokey eye, her favorite.

Heat looked just as amazing. A white jacket that had flames coming up it. Black jeans and a Calvin Klein t shirt underneath. His highlighted hair perfectly gelled up and a little bit of lipgloss on.. they looked fantastic, nothing new.

“Hey bitches, you guys look amazing. Are we going to a bar or eating here?” Heat looked, mainly at Masie. She rolled her eyes.

“No this is my new style. My mom said to dress for the life you want, not the life you have.” She flipped her hair and flaunted her outfit.

Astrid smiled, “I like that. You guys look great. Missed you girlies. I know it’s only been like a week but I have so much to tell you both!”

“Oh God what now?” Madelyn laughed. Astrid’s stories were always wild, like her. If she were to ever write a book on a persons life it would for sure be Astrid.

“She’s selling feet pics to horny old men” Heat gagged.

“WHAT” Madelyn and Masie gasped at the same time.

“You we’re supposed to let me tell them! Fuck, Heat. Remind me to never tell you anything again”

“Couldn’t help it sis” he rolled his eyes in response.

“Wait but what” Madelyn said, urging her to complete the story.

“So — ” Astrid began, grabbing her phone out of her light blue purse. “Yeah technically he’s right. I am. BUT, it isn’t as bad as it sounds. I met this man online and he is paying me $30 just for a single picture of my feet. No nudes, nothing. Tell me you guys wouldn’t be doing the same.”

Maddie and Masie looked at eachother and shrugged their shoulders. She was right, they’d be doing the same. Clearly something Heat disagreed with as he looked at them in disgust and disappointment.

They continued chattering and that’s when Madelyn noticed him. There he was, in all his glory. Ryder was sitting there, now alone, and he was staring directly at her.

[chaand-sitara]

έξι

"Sometimes, we forget to see the things right in front of us, and later on in life, we regret it heavily"

"Damon what the hell do you even think you're doing?!" Primadonna said as she stepped away from the older Salvatore but he was slowly walking towards her too.

"Doe, listen-" but before he could say something another force came between them and grabbed Primadonna and hugged her tightly while giving her small and quick kisses all over her face but then suddenly that force was ripped out of her and when she looked she saw it was..

"Stefan!?"

Primadonna was now seriously about to faint, she tried to backaway from both of the boys, ignoring how the hell did they know about her house, and run back to her car.

But before she could reach the handle Stefan and Damon were now in front of her blocking her from her car. "How the hell did you two come from there.. To here?!"

Stefan then said "Listen Doe-" Primadonna interrupted him and said "First of all, it's Primadonna for you, and what kind of person calls someone Doe!?"

Damon then said "The kind of person who loves you, seriously Doe?! What is wrong with you? Why can't you remember anything?"

Then Primadonna said "what? Remember? What do I need to remember?! And please Damon, if I look like an easy target, that doesn't mean that you can play all this shitty game with me got it? I don't want to break Caroline's heart!" then as soon as the boys were about to say anything else, Primadonna heard a voice in her ear saying "You don't have to remember anything"

And then suddenly everything went black for her..

.·:*¨ ✘♚✘ ¨*:·.

Primadonna then woke up with a loud gasp and then saw that she was in the back seat of her car, and now it was evening which meant that she had skipped today's class too, plus she had also forgotten her few textbooks there. She got out from her car and stretched her sore muscles.

"wait.. Was it a dream? Oh god. Primadonna seriously? Why would you dream such ghastly thing? Alright the dream's over and now I have school." Primadonna again stretched a bit while trying to be not weirded out by the dream she had last night and drove off to her house to change for the day.

She went inside her house and quickly freshened up and picked out a white cropped tank top with light blue faded Bell bottom and on top of it she picked a purple cropped cardigan and wore her matching sneakers and made a half ponytail of her long dark chocolate brown hair.

She went outside and got in her car and drove off to school without eating her breakfast.

●・○・●・○・●

Primadonna now was inside the school and had parked her car in the lot and when she was going to class, Tyler came up to her and said "Oi! Prima! We have the pre-game rally today! And weren't you in the cheerleading team?"

Realization hit Primadonna like truck, she thanked Tyler and then they both went to the bonfire which was happening for the game.When she got out she rushed towards the football field where everyone else was.

She came right next to Bonnie and then she heard Bonnie say "Hey, what's up? Oh my god, why do you look all sweaty?" then Primadonna shrugged and said "Uh, just doing some practising, nothing much"

Bonnie nodded and Then all of them saw Tanner getting up on the bench and then he said "Wait, wait, wait. Let's be honest here, in the past we used to let other teams come into our town and roll right over us!" Mr. Tanner exclaims, and everyone in the crowd begins 'boo'ing, so he continues. "But that is about to change! We've got some great new talent tonight, starting on offense, and I can tell you right now, it has been a long time since I have seen a kid like this with hands like these! Let's give it up for Stefan Salvatore!"

Everyone was now roaring and Primadonna could see that her history teacher was feeling really happy because of the reaction everyone gave for his speech. Primadonna was also cheering a bit but then suddenly she saw a bit moment in the corner of her eye and saw That Jeremy was stumbling a bit and there was also a cup in his which Primadonna guessed was alcohol.

Then Primadonna saw Vicki trying to stop Tyler going towards Jeremy, one thing everyone in the whole school knew, including the new kids, is that Jeremy Gilbert and Tyler Lockwood were not a fan of each other.

She turned to her right to tell Bonnie to stop the incoming fight but saw that she was now not there so she decided to stop it herself and as she was going near, she heard Tyler say "Don't look down, You can have her when I am done"

Primadonna gritted her teeth thinking 'Seriously? He can't be more of a jerk?' this line then triggered Jeremy so he went towards Tyler too and punched him in the face. Primadonna then started running than walking towards them when Tyler had shoved Jeremy on a car which made alcohol bottle shatter on the ground.

Primadonna then went towards Vicki and said "Why aren't you stopping them?" then Vicki shook her head in worry and said "They both are fighting like made people, anyone who butts in, will surely get hurt."

Then Primadonna left Vicki and grabbed Tyler from behind to stop him, but Tyler pushed her away and she fell on the floor, which made her hand fall on a piece of glass.

Bonnie and Caroline came up to her and then Caroline said" Yikes.. You need to get it healed.. " then Bonnie said" Here, take my car keys, there is an emergency medical kit there, do you want me to come?"

Primadonna then said" No it's fine, I will go."Primadonna then got up, and dusted herself off with her uninjured hand and left to go to the parking lot.

As soon as she reached Bonnie's truck, she sat on the backside of it and took out the kit, then she carefully removed the glass piece and then calmed herself down.

Then she turned down to get a cotton and then wiped the blood off which showed "Wait what? I am sure there was a cut! I even removed the glass!" Primadonna then touched her hand again but there was no cut.

Now confused, she decided to go back to the field when she heard "Or, I could just eat her." wait what? She then bent down behind the vehicle she was near and looked out and saw Stefan and Damon were talking about something.

She was about to go back when she realised Damon had talked about eating someone, not something.. 'wait.. Is Damon a cannibal!? And who is he eating.?!

"You are not going to hurt her Damon" then Primadonna heard "No.?" Damon said in an amused tone, then she heard Stefan said "No, because I know that deep down you care about her, feel for her. I was scared that you had become the monster that you pretended to be."

Then Damon replied "whose pretending?" Primadonna was now scared 'I knew it! Something was wrong with these brothers. God I wish Elena could see this now, thank god my little crush on Stefan is dead now.. But that weird dream? Let's just ignore it.'

Then she heard Stefan say" Then Kill me" Primadonna's eyes went wide and then she thought 'wait what? Are they killing each other?'

Then Damon scoffed and said "Well, I am tempted" then Stefan shook his head and said "No, you're not. You've had lifetimes to do it and yet, here I am. I'm still alive. And there you are, you're still haunting me. After 145 years. Katherine is dead. And you hate me because you loved her, and you torture me because you still do. And that, my brother, is your humanity."

Then Primadonna was now in a shock 'wait.. Are they 145 years old?! What the hell!? Are they even human?!' then Primadonna saw her teacher, Mr. Tanner moving towards the boys 'Oh no.'

" Salvatore what hell?!we've got a game to play! And have you seen Neris?! The whole cheer squad is searching for her with her uniform in Bonnie's hand goddammit."

Then Before Stefan could do anything Damon sped off behind Tanner and killed him. Primadonna was now stunned.

She let out a pretty loud gasp as Tanner fell on the floor with a pool of blood,then she suddenly closed her mouth wishing they didn't heard her.

"You hear that brother? I believe we had an audience for our wonderful performance" Damon said as his eyes were now dark and veins were popping out near his eyes.

Then Stefan replied with a shaky voice "Please, Damon leave that person alone.. Let them go.." then Damon said "Oh no, we can't, let's play hide and seek stranger, even though I know where you are."

Primadonna then turned around and tried to run but then suddenly Damon's monstrous face was now in front of her and before she could scream he grabbed her and turned her around and blocked her mouth with his hand and rushed them back to Stefan, when Stefan saw her, his eyes went wide.

"Oh look brother, we had a VIP audience, little miss Tsimehcla Heiress with us, now what would daddy Tsimehcla think if he looses his only owner to his multi billion chain? Shall we take it? We can compel him to do so."

Stefan then said "Please leave her Damon, she is Elena's friend! You can't kill her! You can't kill anybody like that." Then Damon said "Boo, wrong answer"

He now his fangs out and was about to bite her when suddenly an amythest coloured force threw him away from her. Both the brothers were now shocked but knew that it wasn't Primadonna as they couldn't feel anything supernatural out of her.

Damon then turned back to normal and then got up, dusted his leather jacket off and said "Anyone, Anytime, any place" He then Grabbed Primadonna and shoved her at Stefan which made him catch her and place her behind him "Don't ever-even for a second-think I have my humanity. Oh wait. Almost forgot.Compel her brother, I don't want her screaming around vampires! Eek save me! After we go."

Stefan then reluctantly nodded and Then grabbed Primadonna face and then his pupils went large and he said" You saw nothing which happened here, you were coming back after finding something in your car and then saw Tanner dead and will scream as soon as we leave and you hear a snap."

Primadonna then pushed Stefan away and said" What the hell are you saying Stefan, what do you guys want? My dad can give it to you, trust me at this! But please leave me alone."

Damon was about to leave but then when he heard her both the brothers were shocked and Damon came back and scoffed saying" Drinking bambi really weakened you brother that your Compulsion doesn't even work anymore.. She was supposed to do everything you said now.. But I don't see her mindlessly repeating what you said. "

Then Damon pushed Stefan away and grabbed Primadonna face roughly and repeated the lines Stefan had said before but with little more frustration, Primadonna still didn't feel anything happening to her but she knew the brothers might kill her if it doesn't happen again so she decided to act and follow what Damon had said earlier.

"I was walking back after finding something in my car and then I saw Tanner dead on the floor and I will scream when you guys will leave and snap." Damon then smirked and then he said "That's how it's done"

Both the brothers left and then Primadonna placed her hand on her mouth, hyperventilating, then she suddenly heard a snap and gave the whole school her scream queen type scream.

1:35 ───ㅇ───── 3:47

Primadonna was now between many students while Bonnie, Elena and surprisingly even Caroline were comforting her.

"God Prim.. This is the second time you saw someone like that except this time the person's dead." Caroline said, which made Elena and Bonnie glare at her, which made the blonde girl shrug.

Primadonna then closed her eyes when suddenly she saw Damon's face with dark eyes again and then when she quickly opened them she saw that she had bit of blood of Mr. Tanner on her sleeve when she had fell when the amythest force had made her fall down and Damon away from her.

She got up and said "Uh, I need to go, see you at the lock wood Manor tomorrow, bye" she waved them off and ran away to her car, when she reached her home she was got in her bathroom, turned on the shower and got in without removing her clothes and started to cry her eyes out because of everything that happened with her since the brothers have entered her normal extra character life.

[gcldfanged]

'I want the K' // michal at @stormandash

Send me 'I want the K' and I'll generate a number [ACCEPTING] 5. Firm Kiss

Trigger warnings for misogynistic slurs and abuse.

Ji-ho stood there in nothing but a thin sheet wrapped around her like some breathing classical statuary from the old empire, content to blandly stare out the window as her guest (or what was left of him anyway) was dragged by the feet across the hardwood floor.

Such violence wasn't uncommon. Well, normally if the doormen were going to smash someone's head in for not settling their debts, they tended to do it somewhere else, like the wine cellar- Not directly in front of her.

"Fuck me, this'll take awhile to clean up- Hey, go check in with Marilee, will ya?"

She didn't have to be told twice, gathering the voluminous yards of fabric in one hand while strafing around the pool of brackish blood and into the hallway. She at least had some time to freshen up and maybe steal a breath of makhorka from the madame's pipe, if nothing else.

While resting in a lukewarm bath, the older woman fussed with Ji-ho's thick hair- Onyx black and as shiny as a crow's feathers after the rain.

"It's getting so long, maybe we should put it up-" Marilee trailed off, her wrinkled fingers pausing over a cluster of burn scars stamped into the back of the hostess' neck. Sucking a hiss through her teeth, the madame brushed a comb through the damp tresses instead.

"Ah, just leave it. I like it so much better this way."

There was a madness building in the parlour downstairs- Even worse than usual. Twice the guests meant twice the money, but also twice the problems. Everyone was on edge when the guests started to grow louder, just one more drink or pinch of snuff away from outright bloodthirst.

"Seems that we'll be moving to a larger venue pretty soon," Ji-ho muttered, closing her eyes as she exhaled a thick cloud of smoke. That could mean a number of things. New guests, new girls to compete with. They all smiled and played nice to each other's faces, but in that line of work, the stress of it all managed to harden into a fierce meanness, like the way sap turns into amber.

She was 'lucky', in that respect- There wasn't a lot of competition to sink their claws into the men she entertained.

"Does that mean you'll be running things here and he'll manage the new maison?" she asked cautiously, setting the long enamel and silver pipe aside.

"I don't rightly know, child. Perhaps you should should ask him."

Ji-ho could feel the pulse in her neck quicken, the blood pumping through her veins turning to ice. She stared into the greying water of the tub but didn't really see or acknowledge the chill of the wind, only the growing anxiety coalescing in the pit of her stomach.

"What did he say...?"

"Finnegan will escort you to him once you've gotten dressed."

Even if she wanted to draw out the process of garbing herself, she couldn't- The walking clenched fist of a doorman just loomed unpleasantly in the same room. He said nothing, didn't bother to look her way in the slightest. Probably was used to it, she reckoned, though Finn seemed like the type who was more interested in running his sword through someone's guts- That, or kicking puppies and tripping children into puddles.

The hostess followed her orders, climbing the stairs to the upper floors where Michal kept his office, of sorts. Finnegan rapped a meaty ridge of scarred knuckles against the door frame, only proceeding to creak open the thing once he was given express verbal orders.

She knew better than to speak without being addressed first, keeping herself quiet and still- Merely a living piece of common furniture amidst the lavish and opulent surroundings.

"Don't just stand there, whore- Is that any way to show respect for the man who dredged you up from the gutter, hm? Clothed you, fed you, gave you a stable roof over your simple little head?"

The word dripped like venom from Michal's sneering lips, spat out like a toxic wad of chewing tobacco. Ji-ho's jaw tensed, but she approached the writing table and curtsied, her ribcage screaming in pain as she did so. Marilee had laced her damn bodice so tight, it was a wonder her organs hadn't gotten squeezed up into her esophagus like a tube of paint.

"I am honored, Master," she replied evenly, trying to restrain her disgust for the slimy excuse for a human being languishing before her. That alone was pretty normal and yet Michal made it that much harder by being himself.

Michal merely rolled his eyes as if the gesture was barely acceptable, quill scratching against a roll of parchment with sharp motions.

"You have one simple job and you can barely manage that much- Do you even know how much money you cost me every second you're not sucking cock? At this rate, your debt will never be cleared. Fortunately for you, I am being generous enough to offer another way to earn your keep."

There was a terse silence that fell between them as Ji-ho's mind swam with frustration and confusion. Of course he would do this. There were always more expenses piled on, higher interest added to the now insurmountable number of coin she owed.

"But you said it'd be the last one months ago," she suddenly ground out between her teeth, fingers tightening into fists at her sides.

She realized she'd made a mistake well before Michal had pushed away from his chair and closed the gap between them, reaching out and grabbing her by the chin. His thumbnail dug into her lower lip, peeling it back to reveal the brand inked into the delicate tissue.

Ji-ho froze immediately, straining her muscles to be still and not push into or pull back from Michal's grip. Her eyes widened as he applied more pressure incrementally, the manicured edge threatening to draw blood. It was distilled from the same flower, the poison that they inflicted upon Bearers. Not only would she die, but it would be an agonizing way to go out.

"I'm sorry, Master, please-" she breathed, unable to mask her panicked fear.

"I'll do it... I'll go, whatever you say, I'll do it."

Michal loosened his grip and shoved her back, taking a step forward and presenting the leather of one of his boots. The same ones he'd used to go outside earlier, had collected all manner of street filth.

The hostess almost was tempted to just die anyway, to be done with it all. To finally put an end to everything. Yet her suppressed rage needed satiating, her desire for revenge growing to a higher note until it became all consuming. It was the mental image of Michal snot-nosed and groveling at her feet in abject pain that made her swallow her pride, digging her fists against the rugs and firmly pressing her lips to the disgusting tip of Michal's shoe.

One day, he would beg her for the sweet release of death. And she would refuse him, time and time again.

One day.

[refiwrites]

Jealousy, Jealousy

Pairing: Rick Grimes x Fem! Reader

Summary: Settling in Alexandria, Rick began to notice someone who's taken quite an interest in you.

Word Count: 1.4k

Warning/s: drunk men, cat calling, slight violence, mentions of injury, gets a bit steamy at the end but no smut!! (let me know if I miss something!)

Note: i mean i don't know what to say, but i love me some jealous rick 🤭

GIF is not mine, credits to the owner!

Walking into your given house felt like everything was almost back to normal again, arriving at Alexandria with Rick and the rest was a long journey, now, you get to finally rest even if it were just for one peaceful night, closed off to the world.

“(Y/N), you okay?” You turn to see Rick, carrying Judith in his arms, softly cradling her to sleep. The image makes you smile before looking up at Rick. “Just feels different.”

He nods, going over to you and placing a light kiss on your forehead. “We’re safe here, we just gotta play our cards right, they’re still unsure of us.”

You bit your lip and sighed, hopefully your stay here would be much longer than hoped for. You looked at Judith who was fast asleep and you looked at Rick.

 “Let me take her, you go freshen up for a bit.” You speak. “You calling me stinky?” Rick jokes, handing Judith over to you carefully. 

You laugh and begin cradling her in your arms. “No, sir…maybe.” You tease. “I’ll remember that.” He says with a smile before walking upstairs.

The door opened once more and revealed Carl, you nod at him in greeting as he smiled at you. You could almost remember the time that Carl almost disapproved of your relationship with Rick, but as he grew older and the more you two got close to one another, he realized that what you and his dad had was real and he could almost see you like a mother in his eyes.

“She’s asleep?” Carl asks softly. “Yup, dozed off already.” You say, slowly swaying yourself to help Judith sleep.

“Oh, (Y/N), I heard that they’re going to be interviewing us.” Carl said, glancing at the door. You tilt your head “When?”

“I think I heard them saying it was tomorrow. What do you think they’ll ask us?” Carl takes his hat off his head, shifting his weight to the other leg. “Probably what we can contribute to them.” You suggest with a shrug.

After a few minutes of conversing, Rick walked back downstairs, seeing you and Carl talking brings a smile to his face.

“Hey dad.” Carl greets, Rick walks over to him and ruffles his hair.

“You shaved?” You giggle, looking at Rick who’s now freshly cleaned, beard gone and with fresh clean clothes. It looked like he was a whole new person. “Yeah, thought I could use a change.”

After placing Judith in a crib, it was your turn to clean yourself up. After doing so, Rick respectfully handed you clean clothes that was distributed to all of you. Before walking out the bathroom, you saw yourself in the mirror. 

You felt new, betting that the others might’ve felt like this as well, it was refreshing, along with a new group with you, and for once, you felt safe.

Then the next day came, it was time for the interview, you were all individually interviewed by the lady, Deanna. 

Of course, as expected, she asked questions like where we’re from, what can you do, your skills, and what it was like out there. Almost everyone’s interview went well, and you felt that their leader trusted you a little bit more.

Days passed; you all had settled in well. Now you were with Rick as Michonne volunteered to take care of Judith with Carl. You both were being toured around Alexandria. Since Rick is the leader of your group, it was understandable on why he was being given the tour, and of course you also had to be there with him.

“How do you like the place?” Dean, the one tasked to give you the tour asked. “It’s great, thank you.” You smile at him. “Alright,” he clasps his hand together “If you guys want to know anything else just look for me.”

“Will do.” And with that, he walks away.

You look at Rick to see him looking at something with the rarest glare you’ve seen from him. You reached out for his arm, and he immediately looks at you. “Something wrong?” You ask. He shakes his head, you felt him tug you a little closer to his space. “Don’t worry about it, let’s walk for a bit.”

After walking and talking with Rick, still felt that something was a little off about him. Though you weren’t expecting it to be proven until tonight.

The both of you were out on the porch, savoring the silence and the feeling of hope. Even though you felt like all of you were just more mouths to feed for them, but then again, you remind yourself that all of you have fought to live this long in this world and you’ll do anything that it takes to keep on doing so.

A chorus of cheering and laughs could be heard approaching. You and Rick both look at each other, you stand up from sitting on the porch railing, wondering what this ruckus could be.

Rick looks at you, and there they were, looked like a group of men, drunk off their asses without a care in the world.

It was a mistake letting your gaze on them linger as the one in front caught your eye and squinted at you. You gulped but kept your stance, crossing your arms, watching them approach closer.

Rick watched, some kind of anger bubbling in him at the way those men snickered and whispered while looking at you. Then one of them spoke, he balled his hands in fists.

The one in the front, carrying a bottle, lifted it up and seemed to point at you. “I know you,” he slurred. “You’re the woman from earlier!”

You cringed at the way his voice spoke louder, taking a step back. “You seem to be fun, why don’t you come with us for a few drinks, huh?” The man smirked as his friends laughed and seem to urge him on. “Yeah, we’d like to get to know you better.” You heard one of them say which you slightly shivered at.

“Not interested, please leave us alone.” You say, rolling your eyes. The man looked offended, shaking his head. “Come on now, you look too nice to refuse a drink.”

Rick, hearing their words, finally had enough as he stood up rather abruptly, he looked like he was almost ready to kill. “Mind causing problems somewhere else?” He said, standing in front of you to hide you from them. “We just wanted a drink, that’s all.” The man stuttered, aware of Rick’s threatening glare.

“Then,” Rick takes a step forward, raising his pointer finger up, “Go and drink someplace else before I step down there.” He points towards somewhere, his accent thick as he spoke.

The others seemed to grab ahold of what could happen as they began pulling the man who kept insisting on you. “Pfft, you letting this one decide for you?” The man leaned sideways to get a glance at you. “Just leave.” You speak.

“Damn, you really that boring?”

Before you can think of holding Rick back, he was already jogging down the steps, and with a flash there was a loud smack sound and a pained groan. The man lay on the ground, bottle broken and him with a busted lip.

Rick looked up at the man’s friends. “You knew he had it coming, anyone of you try to tell anyone otherwise,” They all nodded and grabbed ahold of the man, walking away quickly before Rick could even finish his sentence.

You ran down the steps towards Rick, “What did you do, Rick? I thought we had it under control, I didn’t think you’d actually hurt him.”

Rick looks at you. “That one’s on me,” he began before sighing. “I’ve seen him look at you like that before, I knew he was up to no good.”

You look to find the group no where in sight.

Turning back to Rick you sigh, “You know we can’t just push our luck here, you know we won’t get away with that.”

“I don’t care, they should’ve known you were with me.”

You shake your head as your heart fluttered. Deciding it was a problem for another day, you grab ahold of Rick’s hand and lead him back up the steps, you left a lingering kiss on his lips as you try and walk back to the door. He placed his hands on your hips, squeezing and pulling you flush against him.

Pulling away, you stare at him with warm cheeks and suggested,

“We’ll get in trouble anyways, why don’t we enjoy the time we have now?”

[obae-me]

A Taste of Your Own Medicine

Author’s Note: I finally did it! One of my bigger projects finished! And this is the most ambitious thing I’ve posted in a while! It’ll be my biggest post for sure! I truly, truly hope you guys enjoy this. I hope this sickfic can make you feel a bit better during these times. (*slaps fic* This bad boy can fit so many cuddles in it). Thank you all for your encouragement and support, it’s honestly what helped me get this finished! Also, I swear I’ve been over this thing more than thirty times to try and catch mistakes, but it’s a lot so if I missed mistakes I apologize. 

Word Count: 18,300

Warnings: Blood, Medication Use, Vomiting, I’m not a doctor in any way shape or form, so please don’t take any of this as a personal guide. 

As Always, Read Safely, And Please Enjoy!

Lucifer, then Satan and Mammon. After that came Beel and Belphie, followed up by Levi. Lastly Asmo. All of them, every single one, had fallen ill. Try as they may, none of them had been safe, and you’d been the main one working to nurse them back to health despite you knowing nothing about caring for demons. It had been...what was the right word? Grueling? No. Enjoyable? Well you couldn’t quite say that either. It had its ups and downs. Working for about a month straight on little sleep wasn’t exactly a dream job, but the affection and actions you’d seen were priceless. The pictures on your phone and the memories in your head would keep your heart warm for the rest of your life, but you could go no further. You were done. Done with being a nurse. Done with restless nights. Done with this illness. 

The House of Lamentation had finally begun to feel normal again, normal except for your persistent fatigue accompanied by strange shifts in your body temperature. It started off small at first, you had hardly noticed. Unfortunately, it had grown rather rapidly, impeding your day-to-day life. The fuzzy thoughts in the back of your mind knew that something was unnatural. Your body shouldn’t feel like this. Yet, afraid of facing the truth, or hoping you were just overreacting, you insisted that just sleeping it off would bring you back to normal. 

Only... you should’ve known. You should’ve seen the signs. The sneezing, the breathlessness you felt with the simplest of things, the discomfort settling in your bones. What were you going to do? Well, you figured the best thing to do was move onward, acting like nothing was amiss. Fake it till you make it. Whatever it was would go away on its own, it had to. 

But it wouldn’t, and as much as they would refuse to admit it, each demonic member of the household had grown fond of being fussed over by you. Tugging you in all directions, demanding constant attention, wearing your energy down to dust. Although, if you were being entirely honest, they tended to do that regardless. However, after being treated so specially, their neediness grew tenfold. Thus, without giving yourself a break, every morning you ended up feeling worse than the day before, and it was only going downhill from there. Perhaps you should’ve told them, nipping it in the bud before it had a change to blossom into something terrible. In retrospect, that should’ve been the obvious path to take. Yet, driven by some desire you couldn’t place, you pushed yourself so far past the breaking point that your own body had to stop you. 

Waking up to your alarm in the early hours of this particular morning was more difficult than you’d like to admit. Removing the blankets might as well have been pushing stones off your body. Your limbs felt stiff, gravity’s pull was stronger than it should’ve been, and moving forward was like pushing through waves of molasses. However, you went forward, still fooled under some grand delusion that you’d feel better once you freshened up. Gathering up a change of clothes and a towel for your morning shower, you stumbled out of your room. Getting to the bathroom had been a blur, the only thing you could recall was consistently leaning your weight against the wall to keep your legs steady. You’d met no one in your path, assuming they must’ve all already been in the dining hall, the faint smell of breakfast foods flooding the hallways. It made your stomach churn. 

Before anyone could see you in this downright pathetic state, you entered the bathroom, shutting the door behind you and locking it. You took a moment to catch your breath and press your forehead against the cold wood of the door. It felt amazing against your skin. But you couldn’t linger, you had to get ready for RAD. As you turned, you came up to the sink, settling your items on the side of the bowl. It was then you saw your face in the mirror for the first time that morning. Biting your lip, you splashed some water on your face, hoping it would wash away some of the hints of sickness-- the not-sickness...you weren’t sick. Right? You couldn’t have caught the demon illness, right? Was it possible? Your head was throbbing, the heart in your chest pounding in panic. What were you going to do? You couldn’t miss classes, you couldn’t let anyone know, you couldn’t be a burden. Brush your teeth, you thought. Get ready, play it off. It’s not that bad. It’s not that bad. Stop overreacting. 

Showering felt nice, it was the only thing so far that let you feel some peace. The steamy hot water released some of the tension in your temples and lungs. Although, the intense heat made you lightheaded, and a single little misstep in the shower had you almost plummet to the floor. Shaking, gasping for air, desperately attempting to cling to the slick stone wall, you slowly sat on the wet tiles, leaning your body back so the stream of water landed directly on your chest. The comfort almost coaxed you back into sleep, but before you could fall into slumber, you jolted. How long had you been in there? Five minutes? Half an hour? You could forget about washing your head today. Crawling out of the shower, the frigid air burnt the inside of your nose, shuddering you with a few sneezes. Not good. You rushed to dry yourself off and pull your uniform on. Before you headed down to the dining hall, you blew your nose, shook your head, and prepared yourself to sound as normal as possible. Somehow you managed not to stumble down the stairs, something you were thankful for. Maybe it wasn’t as severe as you thought it was. 

Arguing could be heard past the hall doors. That wasn’t too rare, it’d become tradition almost, to the point where being met with an unclamorous silence was somewhat threatening. What was it this time? Mammon stealing something? Beel eating something? Belphie not doing something? 

It was hard to comprehend the words, but you could make out the important pieces. “I bought that for ya, so it… … … that I took it back!” Mammon growled. 

“Once you… … …  it was mine!” Asmo shrieked. “It wasn’t yours to sell … … … buy it in the first place!” 

Ah, so it was another Mammon related issue, you didn’t need to be a hardcore gambler to win that bet. Raised voices didn’t do any good for your head, the pressure in your eardrums throbbing. You stayed silent as you slid inside, or at least you tried to stay silent. Instead, you accidently made your presence prominent as you shut the doors too harshly behind you. Heads turned all at once, your knees threatening to turn to jelly under the gaze. 

“Is something the matter, MC?” Lucifer asked, the first one able to sense something wrong. He always knew. You were never able to hide anything from him. However, the fact that you’d been able to play things off in his presence up till now settled a sort of twisted pride inside you. You blamed Pride himself for his bad influence. Lowering his cup from his lips, he raised an eyebrow. 

You mustered up a usual grin. “Just...tired,” you lied. Had your throat always been this sore? And was it the table full of warm food, or was it terribly hot in here? Not the healing sort of temperature either, but rather the sticky suffocating heat that formed waves in your vision. Or maybe the room was swirling on its own? Tugging at the collar of your shirt, you took a single step forward, attempting to walk again. You lowered your head, turning away from the eldest, remaining as inconspicuous as possible for fear he’d take one good look at you and expose your troubles. Lucifer was not convinced, shifting his gaze between his morning cup of coffee and your strange stature. For the time being, he dropped his questions, lying in wait for you to exude any signs that you were lying. 

Doing your best not to trip up, you eventually sat down at the dining table, a spot left open for you between Belphie--who was sitting up asleep--and Asmo. The demon of lust luckily didn’t seem to notice your weaker state, continuing on his tirade against his older brother. “Mammon, I swear to whatever forces may be listening that if you don’t get it back I will ruin you, you hear me?!” 

“Yeah yeah, you can try!” Mammon scoffed. 

Asmo spoke again, his words blocked out by the sudden ringing in your ears, the shrill noise spurring on pain behind your eyes. As you bit the inside of your cheek, you squeezed your eyes closed till the painful sound faded away. Only, opening them back up now seemed to make everything worse. The light was harsh, far too harsh, blinding rays striking off every reflective surface. Your vision started to swim, blurring the features of those around you. Squinting, you groaned a bit to yourself before lifting a utensil from the table, attempting to eat some of the breakfast in front of you before anyone became suspicious. Every bite sank heavily to the bottom of your stomach. 

“Will the two of you be quiet, for sin’s sake?!” Satan boomed, his wrath peeking through his composure as his brothers started to take their spat too far, interrupting what should’ve been a quiet morning. Although, when had that ever happened? Magic spilling from their fingertips, demon forms exposed, Mammon and Asmo were each ready to brawl it out at any moment. The ruckus finally managed to stir Belphie who was visibly irritated. 

The miniscule amount of food you had eaten started to already stir sickeningly within you. The sweltering heat you had felt before stripped away in a moment, a frightening chill creeping over your body. Before you could think, you got to your feet, breathless, heart pounding as an overwhelming presence of something agonizing forced you to move. Getting up too quickly caused the whole world to rock, your head doing somersaults. Lucifer obviously was now convinced everything was far from fine as you swayed on your own two feet, the legs of his chair screeching against the hardwood floor as he stood. Everyone in the room quickly went quiet, all eyes on you as you fumbled. The weight of their attention seemed to push you further over the edge. “It’s...I’m…” You needed to move, to be anywhere but here, so you staggered a few steps away from the group. 

You heard the thud before you felt it, not quite comprehending what it meant to feel the floor fall out from beneath you as the world shifted sideways. The area became a chorus of shouts as seven demons called out your name. You didn’t fully blackout. Your consciousness was too stubborn to be snuffed out like that, but you couldn’t fully talk or move either. 

A pair of arms wrapped around you, bringing you close to their body. Despite being right next to you, somehow everything still felt so far away, like you were experiencing everything secondhand. The smoothness of leather touched your cheek before the glove was supposedly discarded, cold skin touching your face. “They’re burning up,” Lucifer announced, the undertones of his voice just barely wavering, or perhaps your sense of sound was just as skewed as your sight had been. He flipped his hand over, his knuckles brushing against your forehead. You tried opening your eyes to look at him, but it was next to impossible. 

“MC?! Hey, what’s with you?!” Mammon shouted, two hands squeezing your shoulders. The panic in his words was apparent. “What’s wrong with them?!”

“I think they’re sick,” Belphie chimed. 

Satan sounded distant, but his voice still drifted to your ears. “Should I alert Simeon and Solomon?” 

Without warning, you sensed yourself being lifted off the floor, the sudden movement jerking the last strands of your consciousness back as you lurched into a black weightlessness. You swam through the fog, trying to pick back up the voices in the room. 

“...the human world to get a few things,” someone spoke. As you shifted your body, the people went silent, but not for long. 

“They’re awake!” 

“Thank heavens…” 

“Oi, everyone get off ‘em!” 

Somehow, you found the energy to open your eyes. There were no arms holding you and the dining room was far gone. You were now in bed, in your room, surrounded by demons, angels, and the only other human in the Devildom. The confusion of the blank spot in your memory shot panic through your nerves, not to mention it was uncomfortable to be stared down like this. “What…?” You gasped, trying to sit up in bed. A washcloth slid off your forehead and down your face. Someone’s gentle hands guided you back into a lying position, taking the rag and putting it back in its place. 

Lucifer had a chair pulled up to your bedside, lines popping up between his eyebrows in worry. He finished pressing you back up against your pillow, pulling the blankets back over your chest. “Don’t move too much,” he ordered, his words harsh but his eyes soft. “You collapsed in the dining hall.” 

Well, that part you could recall. They must’ve brought you here. Despite it only feeling like a second, you must’ve been out long enough for the other exchange students to arrive. “Is-” You interrupted yourself with some coughs, quickly turning your head into your pillow. Even just speaking left your lungs weak, but you had a question. “Is it…? 

“It’s not what the brothers had if that’s what you’re asking,” Solomon nodded. “You as a human couldn’t catch that particular illness. Although if you had, you probably wouldn’t survive. So lucky you, right?” Levi nearly dropped to his knees at that prospect, eyes wide with fear, as if he wasn’t convinced that you were lucky at all. You had to admit, you felt far from it. Many of the other siblings shot the sorcerer a dirty glare, everyone’s nerves strangely on edge. Solomon closed his eyes and laughed a bit. “Aha, but like I said, it’s a very mortal disease. Just a cold or the case of the flu from what I can tell.” 

“Just?” Mammon growled, barking out his opinions like an angry guard dog. “They’re lying here looking like they're two seconds away from pushin’ up daisies and you make guesses? You’ve been acting so calm and treating this like it ain’t that serious! And to be honest, it’s kinda tickin’ me off!” He took a few serious steps towards Solomon, shoulders squared, ready to fight. Luke ducked behind Simeon’s body for protection, but there was no need. Before he took things too far, Mammon growled and resumed his brisk pace around your room. 

“I hate to agree with him,” Asmo started, “But Mammon’s right.” The fourth-born frowned, some of his outward sparkle dulled with concern. Every hint of his and Mammon’s dispute had faded away. “This isn’t a joke! You have to do something, Solomon! Save them!” Asmo flung himself over the sorcerer begging and pleading, reacting as if you were on your deathbed. Mammon pushed a haughty breath of air between his teeth, turning on his heels to sit beside you on the bed. His nervous energy could hardly be contained, erratically adjusting the blanket over your body as one of his legs bounced up and down rapidly. 

Solomon shook his head, brushing Asmo off of him. “I was simply trying to lighten the mood.” You caught a flicker of amusement in his eyes as he watched these powerful demons on the brink of falling to pieces. “If treated properly, it shouldn't be fatal. Plenty of monitoring and rest and the body should heal on its own. Of course if it worsens or persists, then a doctor might be required, but we can cross that bridge when we get to it. Although, like I was saying, it would be best if I went to the human world to at least get some proper medicine. We wouldn’t want our MC here to suffer the full brunt of the symptoms, and I doubt the remedies here would have a desired effect.” 

With that, Lucifer sighed, lifting his chin to address the sorcerer. “I shall accompany you to the human world. We’ll get what we need and come right back, understood?” 

Either the demon of pride’s stern glare wasn’t at its peak today or Solomon was generally unaffected. The sorcerer looked past him and right at you with a grin on his face. “He gets rather overbearing when it comes to you doesn’t he?” 

“We’re leaving,” Lucifer huffed, his arms wide to shepherd everyone out of your room. Several of his siblings cried out in protest. “Everyone out! The last thing MC needs is the bunch of you bothering them.” The only one he didn’t tug along was Simeon, the angel turning down the light and approaching you as soon as everyone had gone. 

A short laugh rumbled in his throat. “They sure do care about you a lot,” he smiled. He took Mammon’s previous spot on the bed by you, settled by your hip. He discovered the bump in the blanket that served as your arm under the covers. Slowly, he ran his hand up and down over it. “What a terrible thing for you to be this sick.” It wasn’t often the angel frowned, but in this case he appeared deeply troubled, as if he was taking your pain as his own. “I can help you fall asleep if you’d like me to. Solomon warned me against using too much magic against your weakened immune system, but I should be able to let you sleep peacefully.” He waited for a response, not moving forward with anything till you nodded your head slowly. Golden light rushed to the ends of his fingers, the soft skin of his fingertips brushing against your eyelids to close them. A shudder ran down your spine, your own body tingling, and you wondered if it was his magic or simply just the tender gesture. “Rest well, MC,” Simeon whispered. “Feel better.” And then just like he suggested, your mind quickly got swept along into a blissful sleep. 

Angelic magic or not, it didn’t seem to hold back the fever for long. Even in your dreams, all you could feel was frigid fire. Your nerves were fried, unable to tell if you were freezing to death or boiling. And the dreams...the images flashing in your mind of threats you couldn’t understand, dangers that filled you with panic. Someone was uttering words to you that you couldn't understand. All you could do was try to run, try to escape. Everything about you was screaming. 

Through the mist of sickness, you could finally make out the voice. “...gotta...can’t...help…” After a few moments of the whimpering and the distress, you were alarmed to figure out it was the sound of your own voice. But you couldn’t even feel yourself saying the words. 

“I’m here,” another person muttered past the darkness. “It’s alright…” The stranger shushed, trying to sound sweet to cover up the panic in their tone. “The one time I need that pompous jerk around and he’s gone. Figures.” You could hear a few pages being turned, a frustrated click of a tongue followed after. “Why didn’t I look this up before? Why wasn’t I prepared?” The anger from the other being in the room seemed to affect you. You thrashed a little, kicking your feet as if it would help push off the suffocating agony. Two hands clamped down on your shoulders, pinning you to the bed. “Calm down...Please calm down...I need to calm down.” Once you went back to being mostly still, more pages were turned. “Have the afflicted wear light clothing. I can do that.” A weight was shed off of you as the blanket pulled back. Air struck your sweat covered skin, sending chills down your body. You began to tremble. The front of your RAD uniform was tugged at, someone working at the buttons to shed the outer layer off your body. 

“...won’t...s...sor...is…hah…” Your speech was broken, and even if you knew what you wanted to say, your mouth wouldn’t let you. Someone took your hands, lifting your arm to let gravity help assist in removing the sleeve. You could feel it slip before fully crashing against the bed like a dead weight, free of the thick uniform fabric. The same was done with the other arm. Then a hand supported the back of your neck, lifting your upper body just enough until the extra layer was yanked out from under you. Removing the jacket had been like opening an oven. Heat from your body suddenly escaped into the room, no longer trapped behind unnecessary insulation. Even in your rather deranged state, you could feel your shirt sticking to your skin. Now you seemed to be shuddering harder.

“Hydration...medication...Curses, Lucifer, get back here...Nothing...there’s nothing here!” The individual grunted in a growl of vexation, a frantic flutter of paper soaring further away before something heavy struck the ground far from you. You managed to stop moaning, switching to feverish panting. Your company tutted at you again, stroking the top of your head tenderly. “Can you even hear me at all? Breathe, MC, breathe.” It’s embarrassing to admit it took you much longer than you would’ve liked to remember how to control your breathing. Once you took some deeper inhales, you heard your caretaker sigh in relief. “Good…Well, not good, but better.” 

Reality had sunken in almost completely now, just covered with a thin layer of dreamy haze. You cracked your eyes open, a mess of blonde hair and worried green eyes looking down at you. “S-Sa...tan,” you murmured. 

His hand stroked your head a few more times before grabbing the wet rag again and dotting it across your face. The energy you needed to retain consciousness was quickly fading. Satan’s hands grasped your face. “Hold on!  Look at me again, come on.” With every ounce of power you had left, you lifted your eyelids as much as you could. Still half-lidded, you only caught glimpses of his green sweater as he slid one hand under your back, lifting you up gently. Your head bobbed down, chin against your chest as Satan settled your back against your headboard. Gentle fingers lifted your head, some plastic brought to your lips. “You have to stay hydrated, drink just a little.” You wrapped your lips around the straw, sucking water into your body until you felt like you were going to be sick again. Satan moved to put the cup back down, and in that time he made the mistake of letting you go. Gravity tugged your body down, nearly slipping out of bed, threatening to fall to the floor. Thankfully, the demon of wrath was there to catch you. Head resting against his shoulder, you breathily let out a ‘thank you’ that was probably closer to a slurred series of sounds rather than a statement. 

His arms wrapped tightly around you. “Don...lea…ve...”

Then everything went black again. 

When consciousness flooded back to your mind, you had no idea how long it had been. Turning to your other side, you rubbed your head against the pillow. Everything was still much too warm. You slipped an arm under your heavy headrest, hoping to get to the cooler side. Your pillow twitched. Your pillow...was moving? Up. Down. Slow. Rising with steady breaths. You woke up, shifting enough in your spot to alert the person in your bed. Placing a book to the side, Satan rubbed one of your shoulders. Taking a moment to realize what position you were in, you felt your stomach flop once you came to the conclusion that you were lying against Satan’s legs, clinging to his clothes, hand against his lower back, head resting against his stomach. “You alright?” Satan wondered, pressing a hand to your forehead. You didn’t need to speak for him to know the answer. Not really. “I’ll admit, you had me worried for a while there.” He sat up fully, your head sliding back to your pillow--your actual pillow. You quickly retracted your death grip on him, hugging your arms close to your body. If there could be any more heat in your cheeks, there would be. 

Shame creeped into your bones. “S...sorry.” 

His expression brightened a small amount, pleased with the fact that you could speak mostly clearly now, even if your voice did sound ragged. He pulled the blanket back over your shoulders and up near your chin. “Don’t worry about that, just worry about feeling better.” He twisted his body, grabbing something off your nightstand again. “Here, have some more water. Everything I’ve read says that you need to stay hydrated at all times.” You dug your elbow into the mattress, lifting your head enough to not choke as you drank. As Satan lowered the glass, you noticed it was almost completely empty. You didn’t remember drinking that much. Exactly how delusional had you been earlier? How much had you forgotten? You downed the rest of the drink in small sips, lying back down when you were done. 

“Did…” You squeaked. “Did I do anything…” 

“Weird?” Satan finished your sentence for you. “So you don’t remember all of it, I take it?” You shook your head. “You started moaning, hyperventilating. Once you calmed down a bit you collapsed on me and refused to let me go. I figured since I was going to monitor you anyway I would…” A small blush formed on his cheeks. “Hold you till Lucifer got home.”

You looked away from his face, still a bit self conscious. You decided to change the subject. “He’s still gone?” 

Satan’s lips almost curled into a little snarl. “Yes. I have no idea why he’s decided to take his sweet time to-” He cut himself off short, clearing his throat and removing any traces of rage. “Don’t worry about him, I’m sure he’ll be home soon with the medicine.” You felt the top of your head being pet again, tempting you to close your eyes. “Until then, is there anything I can get for you?” You shook your head once more, allowing yourself to indulge in your impulses, moving closer to his body. Despite seeming mostly unaffected by the intimacy earlier, he took in a short sharp breath, lifting his head to the side to hide part of his face. His hand was near your face, tauntingly close, reminding you of how chill his skin was and how good it felt to have him stroke your head. You closed your eyes, bringing your head forward enough to bump against his wrist. A stifled gasp rang through the air before he took a deep breath. “It’s unfortunate that you had to be this sick to…” His sentence trailed off, his hand that you’d ran into pressed against your burning cheeks before brushing against your hair, running down the length of locks before starting again. “Conserve your energy,” he whispered. “Go back to bed.” 

“... … how are they?”

“...still feverish… …sleeping for a long time…” 

“I’ll take over… … get some rest.” 

Soft voices somehow roused you from your deep sleep, the final click of your door leaving you awake. You flitted your eyes open, immediately upset with how dry and crusty they felt. It didn’t help you feel any better when you noticed Lucifer by your bed, busy observing a small cardboard container. He was quick to notice you move, turning his head towards you as you wiped the grime from your eyes with the back of your finger. How embarrassing. Having to be sick, weak, vulnerable, positively distasteful, and in front of the people you thought highly of no less. Memories of Satan flooded back into your mind. Would they all think less of you after this? For how low you’d fallen? For how weak you were? You couldn’t let that happen. What had happened with Satan couldn’t be helped, but from here on out you would do your best to be independent. You adjusted to sit up. 

“What did I say about moving too much?” He scolded, his hand outstretched to settle you back down. You swept his gesture away, sitting up fully and focusing on the item in his hand. A regular box of human world medicine. You reached out for it, and despite being annoyed you’d swatted him away, he handed it to you. The tones of his voice casually shifted from his typical strict nature to low and sweet. “Is...this the one you need?” You glanced it over. Gel pills, daytime and nighttime ones, for cold and flu symptoms. You nodded. He seemed relieved. “It doesn’t happen often, but I was glad for Solomon’s help in picking the proper medicines,” he admitted. “Who knew humans needed so many medications? And you even have entire shops dedicated to them.” He shook his head as a deep frown formed on his face as if he just realized how fragile and complicated human bodies could be. You sighed, agreeing with him in your mind. You were thankful he managed to bring this back though, for as much as you hated proving he was right, you desperately wanted the medicine to ease your aching symptoms. You tried prying the flap open, annoyed when it refused to tear apart. From out of the corner of your eye, you swore you spotted the smallest smirk cross over Lucifer’s face. “Would you like some help?” You grumbled, turning your torso away from him as you attempted again to open the simple package. In slight sadistic fashion, he simply observed you struggle for another few minutes before you tore the box open. Even just working on that had you nearly breathless, but you scrounged up a little triumphant grin. Pulling out one of the bubble sheets, you settled the box back in your lap which Lucifer quickly picked up, returning to read the details printed on the back. “No more than four doses a day,” he announced. “You can take two of those pills now and then wait for four hours before you can take any more.” He read all that out with the confidence of a doctor who knew exactly what he was prescribing. “I want you to check in with me before you decide to take more, understood?” 

You desperately wanted to be snippy about it, but the energy for defense was long gone. Plus, you knew that he needed to have his hands on the reins at all times, and his stubbornness was especially bad when it was a situation he had no control over. “Okay,” you squeaked, pressing your thumb tightly against the foil backing until the pills were free. Dumping them out into your palm, you sighed to yourself once you spotted the empty glass of water from earlier. You’d have to go refill it. 

As soon as you pushed the blankets back and swung your legs out of bed to stand up, Lucifer tightly gripped your shoulders. Normally, he would’ve reacted before the thought even crossed your mind, but your actions must’ve stunned him more than usual. “Where do you think you’re going?” 

Wincing a little, you cleared your throat before you spoke. “I need water.” You tried to get back up, but your weakened strength was no match against Lucifer’s, and he was hardly trying. 

“Then let me get some for you.” Your lips parted to utter out a rebuttal but he’d have none of it. He grasped your ankles, pulling your legs back into bed and folding the covers back over the lower half of your body. He pointed a gloved finger at you. “You’re not to move.” He plucked the empty glass off the tabletop, striding out of your door before you could even try to argue. A low groan rumbled in your chest, your lungs convulsing out a few more coughs. By the time you got your breathing managed again, the demon of pride was back in your room, handing you a fresh glass of water. A deeper frown tugged at the corners of his mouth as he watched ripples form in the liquid as your hand shook. Attempting to stabilize your hold only seemed to make it worse. He reached out, his intention to help you drink. Before he could, you popped both pills in your mouth and grasped at the cup with both hands as you brought the rim to your lips, watching his arm fall dejectedly back to his sides. Even the smooth gel coating went down rough, feeling more like two sharp stones scraping the inside of your esophagus. With your nose more stopped up than usual, by the time you were done drinking you were gasping for air, resulting in coughs again, hard enough to nearly make you gag. Lucifer took the cup from you before you could drop it, settling it on your nightstand. You were bowled over, tears streaming from your eyes. Rare panic crossed over Lucifer’s face, rubbing your back till the coughing fit came to an end. He took a deep inhale once it was over. Then he placed his touch over your forehead again, his thumb gently rubbing against your temple. When he retracted, you nearly let a little moan betray your feelings. You’re supposed to be independent, you reminded yourself. Lucifer shifted in his seat a bit, brandishing another item from his pockets. “We got one of these things as well,” he explained, taking the little item between his fingers and squinting to better study it. “He said it would be useful in monitoring your temperature, but...he failed to explain how it worked.” 

If you were feeling even just a bit better, you would’ve laughed. Lucifer took the thermometer and pointed the end towards your forehead, his eyebrows raised as he waited for something to happen, only to scowl when nothing did. You let a similar cocky expression coat your face as he was the one to struggle with something so simple this time. If only he knew he had the right idea but the wrong type. He’d gotten one of the older fashioned versions. “This kind goes under my tongue,” you explained. 

“Really?” He hummed. “How strange. Seems...messy.” He held the end close to your mouth, his face showing no signs of amusement this time as he waited. You hesitated, your heart beating faster at the emotions swelling in your chest. Independent, independent, independent, you repeated in your mind. Only, you’d caught him in a very impatient mood. With his other hand, he cupped it around your chin, carefully pulling your jaw down till he could slip the end of the thermometer under your tongue. You pressed your lips back together, too embarrassed to look him in the eyes. The small device beeped once it got its reading. Lucifer pulled it out and brought it back towards him. “101.4” He ran a frustrated hand through his hair before settling the thermometer down, attempting to guide your body back down in a lying position. 

You stopped him, grabbing his wrist, eyes focusing on anything other than his face. “You don’t...have to do this.” 

He entertained you, fully capable of pushing you down should he desire it, but he let you keep him in your grasp. His eyes narrowed. “What thing in particular are you talking about?” 

Taking as deep of a breath your lungs would allow, you corrected yourself. “You don’t have to take care of me, I mean.” Words strained and cracking, they did little to convince the demon. “I’m well enough to take care of myself. Trust me, I’ve done it plenty before.” 

Distrustful and discouraged, he stiffened, tugging his wrist away. “Be that as it may, while you are down here you are my responsibility. It is part of my duty to ensure you are safe and well looked after. Do you expect me to just walk away from my role?” 

You’ll admit, it wasn’t very rational, but something other than the fever in you burned. “I’m not an assignment to be written off, Lucifer.” 

“You know I didn’t mean that.” His crimson eyes looked down at you for a moment, the air silent between you save for the faint rattling in your chest. Eventually, he spoke back up, the previous forbidding expression gave way to a small smile. He closed his eyes and chuckled a little, taking you aback. “When did you ever get so prideful? Is it too bold to assume it’s my doing?” Then his hand moved forward, unbothered by your past attempt to push him away. He brushed sticky strands of hair away from your face. “If you truly don’t want me here, I will leave.” Your chest seemed to flutter at his words. It wasn’t that you...didn’t want him there. It was that you did. Almost too much. If there was anything you didn’t want, it was to be a hindrance. You knew how busy Lucifer was. His trip to the human world had probably already doubled his workload, and if you were right they’d all  skipped classes for your sake, and- “MC.” He cupped your face, the look on his face told you that he knew everything you were thinking. “Not worrying about anything else, not overthinking it, do you want me here, yes or no? A simple question and two simple options.” 

“I…” You knew the answer, and he did too, trying to hold back his amusement until he could hear the answer for himself. “If...you...want to.” 

He shook his head in a defeated way. “You’re incorrigible, you know that don’t you?” With your acceptance, he took your shoulders, letting you lie down. He took the rag that had fallen off to the side, gently brushing it across your face. Under your eyes, over your cheekbones, under your chin. Then he leaned forward, his upper body resting against your bed, his head propped up under one of his hands. He gazed at you, tracing your jawline with his knuckle. The skin across his cheeks turned a light pink. “Of course I want to be with you. Not a moment goes by that I don’t desire to be at your side.” 

The fast acting medicine and the fact that you’d been so distracted by his peaceful touch, you’d totally missed what he’d told you. “Hm?” You sleepily hummed, too focused on how close his body was to yours. 

“Nothing,” he mused, making sure you were secure under the covers. “I’ll tell you once you’ve recovered. Sleep now.” 

The muscles in your body slowly woke you up, screaming at you to change positions after having slept like a stone for Diavolo-knows how long. Eyes still closed, sleep still foggy on your mind, you turned over in bed. However, even with the smallest amount of alertness you possessed, you were very aware of how...generally upsetting your body felt. Soon it was all you could focus on, forcing you awake. Groaning, mourning the comfort of sleep, you slowly stretched out your weary legs. Your feet pressed against a foreign lump in your bed. 

Mammon shot up, uncurling himself from the foot of your bed as he apparently woke up from a nap. “MC!” He crawled forward, placing both of his hands on the side of your face. “How ya feeling?” His sudden energy left you a bit winded, still trying to comprehend him caressing your face so tenderly. He let his arms drop to your shoulders. You shifted under his gaze, shaking your head. 

“Like garbage…” Hot, sweaty, gross, you felt uncomfortable in your own skin. Mammon frowned, his blue eyes wide and shimmery. He resembled a puppy for just a second, observing your face for any sort of hope that by some miracle you’d fully recovered. When he saw you were still the worst for wear, he sighed, grabbing the covers around you and tucking it against your legs. Only, the blanket wasn’t one that you owned. Running your hands over the fabric, you noticed that this was one of Lucifer’s blankets. It was lighter and cooler than the blanket you had on before. You took in the rest of your room for a moment, noticing more than one thing out of place. Mammon had been resting on one of Belphie’s pillows, one of his new expensive ones. In fact the pillow you had been sleeping on was replaced with one of Sloth’s. On your nightstand, near your box of medicine and a box of tissues was a little diffuser, one you recognized as Asmo’s. A small plume of steam flushed out of the top, a mild comforting scent spreading throughout the space. A book that wasn’t yours, a replica of some sword draped over your table, and a number of other things that had never been between your walls before were littered here and there. You tilted your head. “Where did these things come from?” You wondered.

Mammon lowered his eyelids, his hands on his hips as he settled into a more comfortable seating position beside you. “Listen, my hands get grabby sometimes when I get anxious.” 

You simply blinked at him. “You were worried?” 

His sincere expression changed as he frowned, pink touching his cheeks as he shook his head. “W-well of course! Lucifer would make sure I never saw a lick of Grimm again if something happened to you…” His voice turned to a lower mumble. “And what, you thought I wouldn’t be worried after watching you take a spill like that? Had me thinking you’d bit the dust for a second!” His eyes flickered around the room as if he was making sure you two were truly alone. Then he leaned past you, fluffing up the pillow you had been laying on. As he straightened, he pressed his hand against your forehead, his body temperature much warmer than Lucifer’s. “Never make me that worried again, yeah? I...You see...Just don’t, okay?” 

You hummed an affirming tone, nodding, a small smile creeping across your mouth. Then after the moment had passed, you shifted in your spot. You felt disgusting even after all that effort to take a shower this morning. Lucifer did say not to move too much, but right now you wanted to be clean more than anything. Pushing back the blankets encouraged a similar reaction to Lucifer’s earlier. 

“Oi! What do you think you’re doing?!” Mammon scurried to his feet, standing in front of you with his arms wide to block you from moving, even though you had yet to even leave the bed. “Bed rest means staying in bed last I checked!” 

“Please, Mammon, I just want to take a shower, I’m grimy and gross. I feel like an over-steamed dumpling.” 

“Don’t let Beel hear you say that.” You managed to stand up, but your sense of balance left much to be desired. On instinct you ended up grabbing Mammon’s shoulders to keep from falling over. “Alright, nuh uh, you can barely move! What if you end up falling and cracking that head of yours open, huh?” Your mind was brought back to your morning mishap and near tumble in the shower from before. “You’re lucky you didn’t injure yourself too badly earlier!” 

Your eyes widened. “H-how did you know about that? I don’t remember telling anyone.” 

His eyebrows raised. “I’m talking about the dining hall, dummy. But now that you’ve let that little detail slip there’s not any chance I’ll let you go now! No way.” He put one arm under yours to keep you steady, ready to keep you back in bed for good. 

Gathering up what little energy you had, you took several deep breaths, gently pushing yourself away from his body until you were standing on your own, just barely stable. “Mammon, please?” It had been your goal up until now to look as far from pathetic as possible, yet now you poured all that into your expression, eyes pleading, head tilted a bit to the side. 

He squirmed. “Tch, you think you can do whatever you want just by giving me some puppy-eyes? Who do you think I am?”

“Fine,” you grumbled. “I bet Asmo would let me take a shower. Maybe I should call him and have him take care of me instead.” 

“Asmo?! I...you...fine! But I’m c-coming with you, to make sure you stay safe and all.” 

You lowered your eyes at him. “You can stay outside the bathroom.” 

“I’m not payin’ for a busted door if I need to break in. I’m going inside! I’ll just turn around or somthin’.” 

He stared you down with a nature stubborn enough to match your own. In your state now, you had little time to squabble. “Fine.” You started walking, leaning against bits of furniture to keep you steady. Acting rather gentlemanly, Mammon rushed ahead of you to open your door. Once he did, he took your arm tucked against his in a sort of escorting fashion. Saying nothing, you both took steady silent steps to the bathroom. You were immensely pleased to find it unoccupied, leaving Mammon’s side to step in. Like he promised he would, he followed you inside, shutting the door before his cheeks turned dark with embarrassment. He turned, parking himself in a corner with his face to the wall. 

“I-I’ll be right here in case something happens, alright?” For him to come this far for you was...The added heat rushing through your body only caused you to feel worse, so you flicked on the water to heat up as you stripped. As you were taking off your pants, balancing on one leg, you teetered to the side, nearly falling. The tub right next to you served as your saving grace. You panted, cursing at yourself for being so clumsy. “You alright?!” Mammon clasped his hands over his face before turning around. “MC?” Riddled with nervous anxiety, he danced back and forth on his feet. 

“I’m okay,” you wheezed. Just barely. You planted your foot against the fabric of your pants, tugging your other leg out. “Just keep looking at that wall.” You questioned the idea of him being in here at first, but now you were beginning to have little trust in yourself. What if you did collapse, locked, exposed inside an empty room till someone came looking for you? You shuddered. Climbing into the shower, you pulled the curtains across the rod until you were completely concealed. You let out a breath of relief as the steam once again cleared up your airways, the pressure building up in your head loosening. Shutting your eyes, you let the water wash over you, cleaning off the sticky sweat that had clung to your body. You simply stood there for a few moments, appreciating the serenity. Then you figured it would be best to get yourself clean while you had the capacity to. Reaching down for the soaps you used, you washed your hair and vigorously scrubbed down your body, envisioning all the germs swirling down the drain. Although by the time you were done, you became aware of the fact that you might’ve made the water a bit too hot, and you might’ve once again pushed yourself a little too far. Nausea came along with the dizziness, the floor losing it’s feeling of solidity. After you turned the water off, you tore the shower curtain back, stepping onto the bathroom mat. 

“You done?” Mammon asked. Right now, all you could do was grunt in response. The small burst of energy you possessed had plummeted. You bypassed the towels and straight for your clothes. Only, the clothes you had been wearing previously were gone. On cue, Mammon explained. “Oh I got you some pajamas. Not good to be lying in those same clothes all day, besides, I got you something comfier.” Folded up on the floor by the tub were a comfortable pair of your pajamas. Pushing aside your humiliation, you picked up the “pajamas” he’d picked out for you. One of your shorts and...one of his t-shirts. It was one he had bought on a whim, much like most of his other purchases. Merch from an action movie you and him had watched in the theaters a while ago. He loved this thing. You could only stare at it for a few seconds. Mammon was right, these would be much nicer to sleep in. 

With a meek voice you started slipping into the new outfit, still dripping. “T-thank you.” You had hardly finished poking your head through the shirt before your knees began to tremble. Your head felt foggy, your mind threatening to slip. “M-Mammon,” you gulped, your voice shaking. 

He spun around, eyes squeezed shut. “What? What is it? Are you bleeding? Are you hurt? Are you dressed? Can I look?” As soon as you ‘mm-hm’ed he flashed his eyes open, took in the sight of your shuddering frame before hurrying over to you. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head for a moment, the world disappearing as you plummeted to the floor. You woke up in his arms hardly a few seconds after your fainting spell. Held tightly against his body, he wrapped his limbs around you, supporting you to keep you upright. “Hey, hey!” His voice shook as he squeezed you. “MC!” 

“ ‘s too...hot.” 

“Stupid human…” He muttered, his rugged tone falling short. “And you’re still drenched! Are you trying to make yourself even worse?” When his sharp remarks were met with your silence, he pulled you closer. “Ah...Really not good, huh?” He asked softly, one of his hands rubbing your back. You could only slowly shake your head. “Let’s get you back to bed, eh?” He brushed some damp hair away from your face before he dragged you out the door, his distress growing ever more visible the more you seemed to slump harder against him. It felt like an eternity inching back to your room, flopping facedown onto your bed as soon as it was in your sights. The mattress bobbed up and down, the movement surprisingly soothing, almost lulling your body to a light sleep right then and there. “Alright, come on. It’ll do you no good to fall asleep like that.” Mammon helped lift you up, letting you settle your head against his body, arms wrapped around his neck as he worked to get you back under the covers. He tucked you in, moving about the room nervously the less responsive you became. Shutting your eyes to conserve some energy, you listened to him curse under his breath, grumbling to himself about “fragile humans”. At some point, a dry fabric came into contact with the top of your head. You were pushed slightly to make some space for him to sit down. He adjusted you till your head was in his lap, the fabric massaging against your wet hair. “Stupid human…” He repeated, softly scrubbing the towel against your scalp. “Why’d you have to go and get yourself sick, huh?” 

“...didn’t...mean to...I’m sorry…” 

The motions across your head stopped, then you felt the back of his hand stroke against your cheek. “Now don’t sound like that...Do you know how much it hurts me to see ya like this?” He paused and then resumed ensuring your hair was as dry as he could get it. “Don’t you worry, the Great Mammon will be right here for you till you feel better, alright?” His voice sounded strained. “So ya better get better…” You cracked your eyes open, pushing yourself up. “What’re you doing? I-“ He quickly cut himself off as soon as you settled yourself between his legs, head against his chest. You could hear his throat casually gasp for breath. His nose came down to nestle against the top of your head, his arms dropping the towel, instead wrapping around your body. “Don’t do this for anyone but me, ya hear? Only I...only I want to take care of you like this.” He pulled the blanket up around the both of you, his soft breaths growing deeper and deeper. Eventually you both fell asleep. 

Your mind was flooded with more fever dreams, clips and scenes of moments your conscious mind wouldn’t even know how to explain. It blurred the line between what was real and what was simply your imagination, so in the moment, when you were disturbed from your sleep, you didn’t even react. Your body was moved, flipped over, weightless, moved from the soft surface you were on to something firmer. You could only process it for a mere second before you were plunged back into a nonsensical plot your frayed mind came up with. After what felt like some time, you were just barely awoken again when harsh and hushed whispers buzzed in your ears. 

“They shouldn’t be down here!” 

“So cute! I mean, poor thing.” 

“Are they still asleep?”

“Take them back.” 

Once you realized that this was real, you slowly became aware of more things around you. As tired numbness left your limbs, you felt your arms pinned against your body, something around you constricted your movement. Panic struck you for only just a second, feeling that your blanket was simply wrapped around your body. You figured in your restless state you must’ve trapped yourself inside it. An involuntary groan escaped your mouth as you squirmed a little, moving your feet in an attempt to feel an escape. 

Something outside of you moved you, tugging you tighter against something firm, a pressure rubbing circles into your back. It soothed you enough to keep you from struggling, but you were steadily waking up. The “wall” you were against vibrated as a deep voice rumbled out of it. “I just thought...it wouldn’t feel like a family dinner without them.” Your body was adjusted again, lifted to be propped up against what you now understood was a torso. One strong arm kept you still, draped against your back. 

“S-surely you can’t hold them and eat at the same time, Beel,” someone muttered. “Why don’t you let your big bro hold em?” 

The body holding you tightened around you, shielding you. “No.” 

“Don’t underestimate him.” 

“Should we wake them up?” 

“Don’t humans heal faster when they sleep?”

Someone else let out an exhausted breath. “Fine, but they’re to be put back in bed once you’re done.” 

The chest your head was against hummed with satisfaction. “Got it.” Soon, quiet but eager eating noises could be heard outside your muffled prison. If you connected the dots correctly, you were resting against Beel who had brought you down to dinner while you had been asleep. Was this a brief glance into what Belphie felt like? Albeit with more comfort and less...pain. Although he’d probably beg to differ. Right now, you couldn’t even pinpoint where the source of your suffering was coming from. It just seemed to be...all over, even down to the tips of your fingers. Even if you had wanted to move, you didn’t have the energy for it, so despite being almost wide awake at this point, you stayed in place. You tried to focus on anything else to keep your mind off the aching. Beel’s heart sounded like a distant drum. Burying your face closer against his body, you let out a small whimper, focusing on the melodic thumping of his healthy heart. You could even hear the pace speed up as your cheek pressed up against him. 

“Beel, you alright?” 

The sound of eating stopped, and a clink of something metallic against glass sounded before a second arm enveloped you, a hand settled at the back of your head. “I’ll eat in a little bit,” Beel whispered. 

“In a--” 

“Shhhh! Shut up, Mammon!” 

“I mean…” The voice returned to barely audible. “Whadda sayin’ ‘in a bit’? You’re not sick again are ya?” Beel didn’t grace anyone with a response. You were gently squeezed in his hug, a weight coming down on top of your head, presumably his chin. The hand behind your head moved to the space between your shoulder blades, moving up and down in rhythmic strokes along your spine. It was uncanny, you thought, how he almost immediately knew how desperate you were for some comfort. Or maybe he was just perceptive like that. If anyone would be, it would be Beel. 

“How are they feeling?” Someone asked. 

Cooler air poured against your face as the space left for you to breathe was made wider. Light from the dining hall illuminated outside your eyelids. Beel’s hand pressed against your forehead, moving down to cup your cheeks. Out of everyone, he always ran the warmest, bordering on nearly being a walking furnace. And yet even he moaned in unease, his stomach groaning alongside him in worry. “Still too hot,” he announced. You allowed yourself to flicker your eyes open, looking up at him just as he moved his hand away. Both his eyebrows raised in surprise before he quickly frowned. “Did I wake you up? Sorry.” You figured that now that everyone knew you were up, it would be time to move. Sitting up straighter in your spot, you wiggled one of your arms out of your cocoon, pulling the fabric of your blanket off your head, letting it settle around your waist. You rubbed spots out from your vision, blinking as you soaked in the sight of the room. 

Asmo politely dabbed at the corners of his mouth with a napkin, settling it back in his lap before addressing you with the sweetest pair of eyes. “Good evening, darling! How’re you feeling?” 

You had half of a mind to try to play the “I’m fine” card, but with your fit with Satan and fainting scare with Mammon, it would be no use to even try to pretend you were fine. So you didn’t see the harm in being honest. “Like I’ve been to hell and back.” 

“You are in hell,” Belphie quipped. 

“You know what I mean.” You turned your head and glanced up, your heart pounding more prominently when you once again realized just how big Beel was compared to you, an otherworldly size. Sweeping away your embarrassment, you started tugging at the blanket to free your legs, moving to leave his lap. “Sorry, Beel.” 

His hand grabbed one of your wrists. “What do you mean?” He tugged at you, repositioning you firmer in his lap. “You didn’t do anything.” His beautiful amethyst irises stared right into yours. “I wanted you here. Meals aren’t the same without you.” He pat the top of your head, letting his fingers scratch gently into your scalp. In most situations, you’d find your open vulnerability to be embarrassing, but right now you couldn’t care less. You leaned back into him, nestling your nose into his chest, using his body to block out the light. Beel gripped the blanket and pulled it back up to settle around your shoulders. 

“Speaking of meals,” Lucifer started. “It’s about time MC had something to eat.” 

Satan spoke up. “Do we even have anything decent enough for sick humans to have?” The brothers went back and forth for a while, bringing recommendations hypothetically to the table about what would be best for you. 

“Belphie knows the most about humans, what do you think?” Beel wondered. 

A lone monotone hum rang out for a moment. “I think it was stew or something like that.” 

A strange bout of irritation drilled in you. You turned your head, addressing the group. “You know you could just ask the human right here. I might be sick but I’m not completely helpless.” 

Brusque tones usually granted you grating glares, but even Lucifer seemed to give you a pass. “So?” The eldest questioned. “Tell us what you need and we can get it for you.” 

Something about that knocked the rebellious wind out of you. You lowered your head a bit and sighed. “Don’t even worry about it, I’m not hungry anyway.” A bold statement to claim whilst sitting in the lap of Gluttony. 

Shaking you lightly, Beel squinted at you. “You’ve barely eaten all day.” The expression on his face turned Lucifer levels of stern. It wasn’t an appearance he took too often. Even now you knew this was a losing battle. A flash of a memory popped up in your mind, one of when Beel had been sick. You pressed your lips together into a thin line. 

“It’s fine.” 

“It’s not.” 

“Beel--” 

“MC. Eat.” His flat tone trembled throughout his body, sending a shudder through you. Lucifer was always strict, so it never caught you off guard, not anymore. But when Beel got this way it pierced through everyone in the room. As if they’d been the one commanded, everyone took a single bite of their meal. 

You gave in, your stature shrinking. “Fine...something light then. Soup’s fine. I’ll go get some…” 

Beel’s arms wrapped around you again, keeping you to him. “No you won’t. Levi.” 

The third-born almost yelped, sinking down into his seat before stuttering. “S-sure, I-I’ll get it…” As he headed to the kitchen you could hear him grumble. “Of course he had to pick me. Why me? It’s always me…” You felt a bit sorry for the otaku as he slunk away. In fact you almost felt sorry for everyone in the room. Even just alluding to the skip of a meal had Beel suddenly tense, on alert. He had you held against him in a guarded manner, his torso bent forward to lean over what he could of yours. He didn’t settle back down till Levi came back in a handful of minutes later, resting a bowl of soup in front of you. It was of human origins you assumed, it looked like regular chicken noodle. The aroma had bits of nostalgia bubble within you. And now that it was here, you hated to admit that you actually were hungry. 

You reached over to try to grab a spoon, falling just a bit short of the table’s edge. Beel’s arms were admittedly much longer than yours, not needing to sit as close as you usually did. Beel grasped a clean utensil for you, getting a decent portion of stock in it’s dip. He held his other hand under the spoon to make sure he didn’t spill any, then he brought it over to you. Did you try to deny it? Maybe a little, but Beel’s spine-chilling glower had you reconsider. You opened your mouth and let him feed you. The hot broth slid down your sore throat easily, relieving some of the pain. As it warmed you up from the inside, Beel finally went back to smiling, everyone breathing in relief. “See, doesn’t it make you feel better?” Beel brought a new spoonful to your lips. 

You swallowed again and admittedly nodded. “A bit.” 

Out of the blue, Beel brought his face down, planting a gentle kiss to the top of your head. Some of his siblings gasped, but if the demon of gluttony heard it, he pretended he hadn’t. His free hand went back to rubbing your back, and you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t nice, the many sensations driving some of the pain from your mind. “Good,” Beel beamed. “Remember, your body needs fuel to keep going.” 

“I know…” The parallel between now and when he had been sick was almost perfect. Beel took the bowl in his hands, bringing it over to settle in your lap, keeping it steady in his hold. “Isn’t it hot?” You asked, worried he’d burn his skin. 

“Not to me,” he assured you. 

You sighed, taking the spoon from him so you could eat yourself. “Thank you for always looking out for me, Beel.”

You expected him to be pleased, but he quickly turned downcast. “I couldn’t protect you from this.” Heart breaking, all you could do was stare down into your lap, watching the broth gently swirl in the bowl. This had mostly been your fault. If you had done something just a bit differently, maybe…

“No, Beel, that wasn’t your fault,” Belphie spoke up, pushing his plate with his leftovers on it closer to his twin to finish. “Besides, it’s your job now to take care of MC now more than ever, right?” 

Beel turned his head away from the food, peering down at you in his lap. He nodded once, bringing his head down to press his forehead to yours. “You’re right. Sick or not, I’ll always watch over them.” 

After dinner, Beel carried you back up to bed, reluctant to let you be free of his arms, but he managed. After giving you one last once-over and another little kiss to your temple, he hurried back down to the dining hall. After all, he was far from having his fill of food. Lucifer had followed the two of you inside, taking your temperature once more. 100.7, still higher than he’d prefer it to be, but glad to discover it had gone down even if just by a hair. He allowed you to take some medicine and urged you to get some more rest. Flicking the light off, he wished you sweet dreams before he left, torn away from you by work he couldn’t ignore. Although, even with the comfort of your bed and the satisfying feeling of something warm in your belly, for the first time, slumber eluded you. It wasn’t that you weren’t tired--exhaustion might as well have been your permanent state at this point--but shutting your mind off, drifting away into peaceful bliss didn’t seem like an option right now. 

You spent a few hours on your D.D.D. scrolling through posts and web-pages, anything to keep you occupied. Although, that eventually bored you after a while. You sat up, trying to not let the loneliness of your empty room consume you. Had everyone gone to bed already? Had you already gotten used to falling asleep with someone beside you? That couldn’t be the case, right? You slowly got out from under your covers, padding over to the door. Maybe if you walked around the House of Lamentation enough, you’d be able to go to bed. You were feeling a bit better, capable of moving around on your own at the very least. You entered the empty hallway, the midnight moon rays creeping across the rug settled across the stone floor. The branches outside the windows cast twisted shadows across the corridor. Some people might’ve found it dreadful, but whether it was your own stranger tastes or the fact that you’d been down here so long, you found it to be serene in a mystical sort of way. 

Drifting through the halls like a weary ghost patrolling the perimeter, you wandered past each of the brother’s rooms. The house was surprisingly still. Before you knew it, you ended up in the music room. Shifting your feet towards the gorgeous ebony piano, your fingers brushed lightly over the ivory keys. Pushing down a low B, the note reverberated through the room, your skin tingling at the broken silence. It quenched some of your boredom. So you pushed another one, the lowest note this time, the deep tone rumbling through you. 

“Having fun are we?” 

You jumped, every hair across your body standing up on end. Swirling around, you met a pair of ruby eyes in the shadows. A string of curses left your lips. “What in hell’s name are you doing, Lucifer? Nearly scared me to death…” You pressed a hand to your beating chest, adrenaline coursing through your veins. You sunk to your knees, the wind knocked out of you. 

He stepped further into the light, arms crossed, almost fuming. “I could ask you the same question. Once again I have to wonder, what are you doing out of bed? Are you that determined not to recover, is that it?” Hair slightly messy, well-tailored pajamas barely creased, you figured he must’ve just gotten out of bed, possibly disturbed before he could fall asleep. It would explain the death glare he was giving you. 

“I...couldn’t sleep,” you answered truthfully, followed by an innocent little shrug. 

With two fingers, he pinched at the bridge of his nose. “And so Levi just let you waltz around on your own?” 

You tilted your head. “Levi?” 

Something dawned on him with your confused question. A terrifying smile arched over his face, the corners twitching as the small amount of light in the room was snuffed out by his menacing aura. “Leviathan…” Yelping at the sudden movement, Lucifer hoisted you over one of his shoulders, gliding across the floor at a ridiculous pace until he was in front of Levi’s room. You wiggled, beating a gentle fist against Lucifer’s back. 

“Let me down!” 

He let you slide off of him, settling you back on your feet, but he quickly grasped one of your hands to keep you to his side. Despite his furious demeanor, he gently knocked on the door, waiting for approximately two seconds before knocking harder. “Levi!”

You heard the otaku approach his door before he swung it open. “What?! I’m in the middle of a very important raid! What could you possibly need--” The entrance to the room cracked open, Levi sticking his head out before all the color drained from his face. The tangerine hue of his eyes flickering from you to his older brother, the demon with paper-thin patience. Levi gulped, the little bump in his throat bobbing.

“Forgive me if I’m wrong, but didn’t I inform you that you would be keeping an eye on MC tonight?” The higher lilt in his question was laced with hostility. “Or maybe I didn’t make myself clear.” You felt a pang of guilt for the demon of envy. 

“Lucifer,” you urged, tugging at his hand which kept you in a vice grip. “I’ll go back to bed, it’s not an issue.” He was ready to blow a gasket, the weariness of dealing with work and keeping his brother’s shenanigans at bay without your assistance clearly was affecting him. Who knew he’d come to depend on you this much? You reached up, rubbing his shoulder with the sweetest look you could come up with. “Please, don’t be angry.” 

Shutting his eyes, squeezing your hand, he gave himself time to breathe. “MC, rest. Levi, take care of them. And no, I’m not asking.” The dark circles under Lucifer’s eyes almost seemed to run blacker, his irises duller than they should’ve been. 

“Hey, don’t worry about me,” you comforted him. “Go get some sleep yourself.” 

His shoulders sagged ever so slightly. “The sick shouldn't be fussing over the hale and whole, you know, but I will. I shall see you tomorrow.” He brought your hand up, kissing it before he let it go. “And, Levi.” The demon of envy flinched, hoping that he’d been forgotten. “I’ll see you tomorrow as well.” 

Levi hung his head low as his older brother walked away, preemptively sniffling at his possible doom. “...and my raid is ruined…T-this is just the worst.” You were a bit sorry for Levi for being thrown at you like this, but you couldn’t help but wonder in the back of your mind if he...had forgotten about you. You watched the outline of Lucifer disappear into the darkness before you shivered. The temperature inside the house was dropping. “Huh?” Levi snapped out of his pitiful thoughts. “Are you-are you cold?” 

“A little…” 

“O-oh, I guess...maybe...Would it be alright if you stayed in my room tonight?” His stance shifted behind his door, anxiously moving his gaze around to keep from making direct eye contact with you. 

Sighing, you nodded. After all, with the adrenaline crash, you doubted you had energy left to walk back to your room. “Sure.” 

He let you in, shutting the door behind you and locking it with a magical charm to keep the riff-raff out. He scurried over to his tub-bed, pulling out some random plush collectibles, and letting them rest against the floor for now. He spun on his feet for a moment, taking in his room before bringing his thumb up to bite on the nail of it. “Y-you can stay anywhere, I have some blankets I guess...Gah! Why did Lucifer have to make me watch you?” The heart in your chest sank a bit, and you lowered your head, a small “oh” leaving your lips. Clutching his hair, Levi immediately regretted what he said. “No! No no no no, that’s-that’s not what I-I-I--” He stuttered for a good while, unable to grasp proper control of his tongue. “Wait, wait!” Taking a moment to collect his thoughts, he picked up one last Ruri-Chan plush from the bed, covering part of his face with it. “I just...I don’t remember the last time I took care of someone sick…Knowing me, I-I’ll somehow make you worse! What-what if I’m forced to make a split second decision that could be the-the difference between life and death?! I’ll end up killing you! Living the rest of my life in isolated drunken regret!” 

He quickly spiraled down a slippery slope of what-ifs, a dramatic fantasy playing out before him where he’d been cast out of the Devildom as your murderer, a disgusting vagabond, living on wildberries and wildlife with naught but his loneliness and shadow to keep him company. His rising anxiety was making him hyperventilate. You had to come over to him, gently take his shoulders and shake him slightly, dragging him back to reality. “Levi, I highly, highly doubt it will come to that. When Lucifer means ‘take care of me’ he mostly means making sure I have what I need.” You gave the sides of his arms a little rub. 

“But I don’t know what you need!” 

“Well, what I need right now is for you to calm down, first off,” you told him, dropping your hands back to your sides, gripping the end of the tub. Climbing into his bed had never really been an issue before, but hoisting yourself over the edge proved difficult a task. You felt his shaky hands come under your arms, hoisting you enough till you could sink yourself into his nest of pillows. You grinned, thanking him as you reached up to rub the top of his head. “See? Stuff like that, nothing too difficult. Fetch quests and escort missions. Easy mode. I’ll be here, just do your own thing.” 

That seemed to ease him enough. He gripped one of his blankets and pulled it over you, moving back over to his desk. Muttering about the raid, he clacked at the keys, his mood steadily improving the more he lost himself in the world of gaming. You felt at the fabric of your pants, remembering with a small moan that they didn’t have pockets...meaning you’d left your D.D.D. in your room. Figures, you thought. So, in your last ditch effort to stay entertained, you moved Levi’s pillows around, making a small wall to prop yourself against, peering over the top of the basin to stare at his screen. You watched his character move around, fighting random enemies. He was completely absorbed, lightly talking to himself as he moved along, humming the victory theme anytime a quest was completed. At one point, he was paying too much attention to a beautifully fleshed out character model to notice what they were telling him, information that he needed to know but missed out on. After that, he was sent towards a boss that ended up instantly killing him when it finished charging up its “claymore of chaos’ move. Levi tried one more time, then three more times, and then about twenty. “What the heck?! How am I supposed to beat you?!” Levi finally shouted, pushing himself slightly away from his desk. 

Speaking up for the first time in a few hours, you shared with him the information he missed. “You’re supposed to use your Mystical Missile spell.” 

He jumped, almost falling out of his chair. “I thought you were asleep!” 

“I still can’t sleep…I don’t know why.” You pulled your blanket tighter around you, peeking at him from your spot. A blush ran over his cheeks, rubbing the back of his head. 

“Oh...Really? Mystical Missile? But it’s a trashy beginner spell.” 

“That NPC lady said it would work, I dunno.” You shrugged. “Try it out, it can’t hurt.” 

So he did, removing one of his high level skills to equip the basic one. Severely doubting success, he entered the boss arena again. It was admittedly tense, keeping you both on the edge of your seat. Once “claymore of chaos” was building, Levi let the spell fly towards him. The boss staggered, a crack forming in it’s armor. “It worked!” He shouted, yelping as a new flurry of enemy spells flew towards his character.  If it was entertainment you were looking for, you found it, cheering him on as he hunched over, focused on his every move. Once it went down, you both whooped and cheered. It had been a bit too much for your lungs, dissolving into some coughs. Levi rushed to his feet, rubbing your back. “You okay?” 

You nodded, letting your body shudder with a few more hacks till it was done. Voice more hoarse than before, you still smiled at him. “You did it!” 

A laugh bubbled out of him. “Victory! Dun dun dun! Legendary item acquired!” Then his expression fell for a second. “Have you just been sitting there, watching me the whole time?” You nodded. He gripped one of his hoodie sleeves. “Would you rather do something...together?” 

You brightened. “Sure!” 

Giddy, he hurried over to the computer, picking up his loot before saving the game, closing the program. “If you’re in the mood for watching something, how about this new anime I found? I’m only a few episodes in, but I can start over! It’s called ‘I Transferred To A New School, But Everyone There Is Part Of The Elite, So I Have To Try And Keep Up With My Classmates Despite Me Being Normal, But I Accidentally Fooled The School Into Thinking I’m A Long Lost Heir To A Forgotten Throne’.” 

Blinking, you stared at him. “You lost me at Elite.” Why the Devildom had anime with titles the length of chapters, you’d never know. 

“It’s good! I promise!” He shifted his monitor so you could see it from your spot easier, turning the anime on with an elated aura, much nicer than the gloom-and-doom one from earlier. This was the Levi you loved to see, the one you tried to cherish as much as you could. He sat in his chair, scooting back till he was beside you so you could watch it together. It was a cute anime, something mostly a slice of life, a normal main character in a school setting surrounded by powerful beings, the plot moved forward with magical shenanigans...something about it sounded familiar. One of the episodes showed the main character fallen ill under some strange circumstance, their roommate they stayed with flustered but determined to take care of them. The friend--and obvious love interest--asked if he could hold the protagonist’s hand. Levi made a little noise. “MC, c-can I hold your hand? I mean, if that’s super weird don’t even listen to me because who would even want to hold hands with me anyway and--” 

“Sure,” you smiled, reaching your hand out from the blanket a little. 

He hesitated for a second and then took it, resuming to watch the show. Much to your amusement, any move the character made, he made as well, taking it as if it were some sort of guide. He brushed the hair from your face, made sure the blanket was tucked gently around you, ensured you were comfortable. Then, the friend in the show made a bold move, snuggling next to the main character as they both fell asleep. Levi went stiff, becoming extremely flustered. You had to admit, the concept was...enticing, and you almost leapt at any opportunity to tease envy. You tugged at his hand, making him look at you with your arms outstretched. If this had been an anime, he would’ve collapsed, his soul flying from his mouth. But even Levi couldn’t resist the temptation. He stepped into his bed, slowly, warily at first. He let you take him into your arms, wrapping his own body around you as you both squeezed together in the tub. “I...I...This is...a dream…” 

You chuckled, settling your head on his chest, feeling his motoring heart pound in his chest. “Let’s watch some more, Levi.” Only, you hardly remembered anything after that. For shortly after he curled against you, the strange barrier keeping you awake completely collapsed. He had draped the blanket over you both, fidgeting with the hair at the nape of your neck. You must’ve turned your head against him, comforted enough by his presence to fall asleep.

“Medicine?” 

“Right here.” 

“Water?” 

“You brought me like a gallon’s worth.” 

“D.D.D.?” 

“You can see it in my hands.” 

Lucifer went down the list, the actual written list he’d come up. You sat in bed, trying hard not to blush and squirm under the many gazes in your room this morning. “Extra blankets?” 

“I have everything and anything needed to last an entire week in solitary!” You shook your head, a little irate at each of them, but appreciating their concern all the same. Icepacks, blankets, snacks, water, bandages, and many other things were brought in your room in preparation. “You all are only going to a Student Council meeting, not off on some lengthy business trip.” 

“Absolutely right!” Asmo shouted, sitting next to you in bed, hugging you to him and caressing your cheek against his. “It’s some stupid meeting anyway, which means one of us can stay can’t we?” 

Every member of the household was already shouting reasons why they and they alone should have the opportunity to stay with you. Lucifer’s little vein above his eyebrow throbbed. “Enough!” The room went silent. “As much as I would love to permit myself to stay home,” he cleared his throat, “not a single one of us can miss today’s meeting. Which is why I’m taking every precaution. EDP?” 

You gently pushed Asmo off of you, raising an eyebrow. The demon of lust pouted, stroking your head instead. “What’s an EDP?” You asked. 

��An EDP is a short term we use for an Emergency Defense Pillar,” Satan explained. “A popular and fairly new little device in the Devildom, especially for lesser magic users or those who aren’t trained in combat.” 

“I’m still at a loss,” you admitted. “Is it like a baton or something?” 

Rummaging around in his pockets, Mammon brandished a small black object. It was cylindrical, about as big as a lighter, a glowing red button on the side. “I brought it! Now, let me teach you, human. If you’re being chased or cornered, this handy lil’ doodad is going to be essential if you wanna escape. You just push this little button here, and--” 

Lucifer’s chest tightened. “Mammon, don’t!” 

The second born pressed the button, his mistake just now clicking in his mind, chucking it a bit in front of him. Asmo grabbed you and tucked you against his chest, pushing your back to the wall while he shielded you with his body. Every other brother hit the floor, jumping away from the object. A huge pillar of fire sprouted from the object, swirling blue flames emitting intense heat as well as a roaring sound. It nearly burnt your eyes. Asmo tucked your head into his shoulder, waiting until the fire was suddenly sucked back into the small container, rattling against the floor. Your protector pulled away from you, letting you stare at the pitch black circle burnt into your ceiling and floor, a round chunk taken out of your carpet, some fibers still flickering. Lucifer came over and snuffed out the singed pieces with his shoe, the vein in his head more prominent. He was about to shout but you beat him to it. “That’s absolutely unnecessary! In what scenario would I need to use that?! Is there even a safety on that thing?!” 

A little sheepish, Mammon picked himself back up off the floor. “Well, you’ve gotten the best visual example you can get. You’re welcome.” 

“I don’t want it, someone take it with them,” you groaned. “What if I end up accidentally getting flame-broiled in my sleep?”  

Beel closed his eyes. “Flame-broiled hell bats…” 

Lucifer bent down and picked up the EDP from the floor. “Perhaps this is a bit too dangerous.” 

“Glad we can see eye to eye on that one…” You tapped the screen of your D.D.D., noticing that the time to the meeting was rapidly approaching. “You guys have fifteen minutes! Stop worrying about me and get out of here!” 

Many wide-eyed demons scrambled to get out your door, knowing that the punishment for being late was not something they wanted to risk. Even Lucifer was rushed, booking it out of your room. Then he popped his head in. “You’ll call if anything happens?” 

“Yes.” 

He left again, the door shutting. It burst back open, his overprotective nature coming to light. “You have your alerts on, right?” 

You chuckled, you couldn’t prevent yourself from doing so. “Yes, mother hen, now go!” He growled, but this time left for good, the uproar from the group slowly fading away. Once more, you shook your head, staring at the charcoal colored circle against your ceiling. “They’re insane,” you stated aloud. 

“Truly,” someone replied. You yelped, chucking the closest pillow at the sudden voice. Solomon caught it, laughing. “Sorry for startling you. The demons are gone, I’m assuming?” He walked back over, handing you your plushy ammo. 

“They just left. Why are you here?” You took the pillow from him, settling it in your lap as you crossed your legs over your mattress. 

He pulled an upset face. “Why do you sound so suspicious? I’m here to check up on you. I had to make sure those demons were taking care of you properly.” He grabbed a chair from your table, scooting up by the bedside. He spotted the hard-to-miss burns and sighed. “Maybe I should’ve gotten here sooner. Oh well, an easy fix. Spirits of twine and stone, turn back the time to whence this matter was well known, heed the Sorcerer Solomon!” Flowing restorative magic rushed over the floor and ceiling, soaking into the atoms, leaving it as perfect as it had been earlier. Actually, almost better than how it had been before. Not even the smell of burning remained. In a small flourish, he stretched out his hands. “Ta-da.” 

“Thank you.” You couldn’t help but giggle at his theatrics. “And the brothers have been taking care of me just fine. I don’t have a fever anymore.” 

He reached his hand out, thumb brushing across your face, he hummed to himself before pulling you gently, pressing his lips to your forehead. You gasped a little, covering your mouth as your face burned. He sat back, nodding. “You feel much better.” He caught your expression, trying to stifle a smirk. “Hm? I was simply taking your temperature.” 

Composing yourself, you tightly gripped the pillow in your hands. “Kinda an old method, don’t you think?” 

“I prefer traditional practices,” he shared. “But that wasn’t the main reason I came over.” 

“Oh?” You’ll admit, at first the EDP had seemed utterly ridiculous, but in this dreaded scenario, you almost wished to have it in your hands. Solomon pushed back his cloak, reaching behind his back and pulling out a fresh steaming plate of food. Already you felt sweat bead across your face. “A-ah, how nice of Simeon to make me something.” It was more of a personal wish, although you knew that it wasn’t going to be the case. 

“Not Simeon, actually. I made it!” He beamed, completely oblivious. “How long has it been since you’ve had a home-cooked human meal?” 

“N-not too long ago actually, and-I-um-the brothers made sure to feed me before they left so-” 

“Surely you can have a few bites, right?” He pleaded. “I made sure to add all kinds of ingredients I know have some healing properties, so I’m sure it’ll enhance the flavor. Here, no need to waste extra energy, let me feed you. Say ah.” 

“MC!” The sound of someone frantically calling your name in the distance slowly brought you to. “MC!” Something snapped as you moved, pain coursing through your entire body. You opened your eyes, not able to see much through the leaves. Wait...leaves? The smell of earth and roses rushed to your nose. That and the thorns trapping you and piercing you were enough to tell you what you needed to know. You were somehow entangled in a rose bush. The voice sounded again, closer this time. “MC, where are you?!” 

Audio recognition kicked in, able to place the voice. Tilting your head back, you put all the power you could into your shout. “Belphie!” There was silence for a while, and white hot panic settled in your stomach...or maybe that was. Oh that was right…

Suddenly the leaves were pulled back, Belphie’s head staring down at you. “This is new for you.” 

You tried to move, but your clothes were stuck in the thorn’s clutches, not to mention any movement you made drove the bush’s claws deeper into your skin. “I…I think I’m stuck.” 

“Wow, that really sucks for you.” 

“Belphie!” You tried sitting up, a sharp pain in your cheek causing you to hiss, drawing in breath through your teeth. Something drifted down your cheek, the taste of bitter copper coming across your lips. Blood. “P-please help me.”

“I was only joking. Don’t move, you’ll make things worse.” He tugged at some of the branches, the disruption poking you some more. Tugging at your sleeve, he detangled your shoulder, working on your lower arm next. 

“Ow, ow, ooooow,” you whined. 

“Don’t be such a baby.” Leaning down a bit too far, one of the thorns pricked him right in the thumb. He cursed, threatening to leave you alone once you laughed. “You’re really scratched up…” He frowned as he gestured to many thin red scratches across your body. You whimpered again, reaching up at him to tug you free. Sloth kicked in, his impatience to take his time fluttered away. He basically flattened the bush with his feet, breaking the twigs stuck to you with his hands. His arms wrapped around your torso, tugging you up, the sound of some fabric tearing as he did. He sighed, taking you a few steps away from the bush before letting you slide past his arms, flopping to the soil. He came down to kneel beside you, grabbing thorns and leaves out of your hair, rubbing a thumb over the small wound on your cheek. “When you wonder why we worry about leaving you alone, this is why. How long have you been napping in bushes?” 

“I…” A sudden chill overtook you, your stomach and the food...you remembered the food Solomon had fed you. The taste...torture. You could feel it in your throat. 

“MC?” You pushed Belphie away, scrambling on your hands and knees to another unfortunate set of flora. Without nitty gritty details, let’s just say your body had the smart idea to not keep Solomon’s food in you any longer. Trembling, you coughed up the last of it, cold sweat dripping down your face. Belphie’s hands touched your back. “You’re not going to be sick on me, are you?” You didn’t respond to him, trying to catch your breath. He mumbled, pulling you into his lap. Covered in dirt and sweat, you curled into him, shivering. Then the both of you watched in slight horror as all the plants planted around your...expulsed poison all wilted at once, almost crumbling to dust. “Wicked father of demons…” Belphie breathed. “What the hell did you eat?” 

You only needed to utter one word for him to understand everything entirely. “Solomon…” 

“Dear Diavolo…I’m lucky to have found you alive.” He whipped his head around. “He’s not still here is he?” 

You shook your head, rubbing at the saliva on your lips. “I don’t remember...I don’t remember leaving my room…I don’t remember…” 

Working hard to get to his feet, he lifted you along with him. You wrapped your arms around his neck, your legs against his body, groaning into him. “Alright, I guess we’re doing this now.” He held onto you, sidestepping past the destroyed flora and towards the house. “I’m just telling you this now though, if Solomon is still here, I will leave you.” 

Reaching up his neck, you grasped tightly onto some of his hairs. “I will drag you down with me.” 

“Confident words for someone I’m carrying like a baby,” he snickered, but he let the witty back and forth drop as he entered the house. For a moment, he stood still, taking in the air of the place. “I think we’re good,” he announced, but continuing to take wary steps up the stairs. He picked up the pace in the hallways, sneaking away towards the familiar spiral staircase that led it’s way up to the attic. The doors he pushed open were heavy in more ways than one. Quietly shutting it behind the two of you, he headed over to the bed. A jolting ticklish pain raced down your body as Belphie jabbed his fingers against your waist. “Off, parasite.” You relinquished your grasp as fast as you could, flopping onto the attic mattress. You crawled up, sliding under the covers, planting your face into the nearest pillow. Right when you thought you were recovering, you were back to being bed-ridden. Belphie left you alone in silence for a minute. When he came back, you had to take a moment to realize he had ever been gone. He was stealthy like that. He dropped a small first-aid kit as well as a bottle of water on the blanket. “Come here.” 

“But I-” 

“But I,” he mocked. “But I don’t care. I need to look after some of those scratches.” Huffing, you dramatically threw the blanket to the side, coming over to sit in front of him. Taking the water bottle in hand, you gratefully moved to take a hearty swig to wash down some of the acid. Belphie grabbed it from you before you could. “Not for drinking.” He twisted the cap off and pulled out a small clean washcloth from his pockets. He pressed the fabric against the opening and tilted the bottle up, getting the rag slightly wet. He then pressed it against your cheek. “We don’t want these infected.” Slowly, he dabbed at each of your shallow scratches, making sure they were clear of dirt. Once he was done with that, he shoved the remaining water at you. 

“I don’t want your rag water.” 

“Fine.” 

But the acidity in your mouth was grating against your teeth. You snatched the bottle from him, swallowing some grateful gulps to cease the gentle burning. Belphie had a mild cocky expression, wiping away the blood. Closing an eye due to slight stinging, you watched his concentrated face. “So…” You started, watching him soon open the box and remove a small tube of medicated ointment. “Why’re you home?” 

Squeezing a small amount of the clear gel on the tip of his finger, he started applying it to your cleaned wounds. “Oh, I snuck out of the meeting.” 

“Belphie!” 

“What?” He took one hand, grabbing your face for a second, squishing your cheeks, mimicking the way your lips pursed. You shook him off, trying to keep yourself from being flustered. “Can you blame me? All I could think about was you...nice and warm in bed...and I was sleepy.” He let out a large yawn. “Still sleepy.” 

“Well…” You paused for a second, heat rising to your cheeks. “I’m glad you did.” 

He stopped for a second, looking into your eyes. “Hm? Say that again?” 

Swallowing a lump in your throat, you furled your eyebrows. “I didn’t say anything.” 

“Are you suuuure?” He drawled. “Cus it sounded like you missed me.” One look at your embarrassed face sent him laughing. He poked at your ribs, tickling your sides, singing the words. “You missed me, you missed me.” 

Burying your face in your hands, you kicked him a little. “Stop it!” 

“Fine,” he smirked. “Anyway, I think you’re mostly taken care of. Most of these have dried and scabbed over. They weren’t very deep anyway.” He lifted your arm, turning it to make sure he’d treated you completely. “So now we can do what I came here for!” It was his first excited expression in a while. He jumped into you, grabbing you by the waist against the bed. Both your heads hit the pillows, the blanket following shortly after. Already you could feel his face against your back. A happy hum of his buzzed into your skin, his hands rubbing against your stomach. Pouting a little, you realized that with Belphie stuck to you like this, you weren't going anywhere soon, so you shifted to get comfortable. You relaxed with a heavy sigh. “You know…” Belphie drowsily muttered. “I...missed...you too…” 

“MC! My poor precious MC! I’m never ever leaving you alone again!” Asmo wailed, clinging to you like if he let you go you’d suddenly die. “I can’t believe Belphie did this to you!” 

Speaking up from the corner, Belphie scoffed. “I actually helped them, just so everyone knows.” Back in your room, each of the demon brothers had returned from the meeting, having found you and Belphie after a while in the attic. Of course, your small wounds, Belphie’s absence, and the strange destruction of a segment of the garden was called into question. 

“And my plants!” Asmo shrieked. “They were such a lovely background for my Devilgram posts! They’re ruined!” 

“I’m so-” you tried to apologize, but Asmo pressed a gentle finger against your lips. 

“Shush! I don’t blame you a single bit, my darling. It’s all these ruffians!” He kissed your cheek in spots around your little wound. 

“Hey! Solomon’s the person responsible, not us!” Mammon shouted. 

Lucifer’s weariness was especially noticeable today. You wondered what he had to put up with at the meeting. “At the very least, we’re glad you’re safe, MC. Knowing what Solomon’s cuisine is capable of…” He pinched at the bridge of his nose. “I’m heading to my office...try not to burn the house down,” he sighed, exiting quietly. 

You tilted your head. “Is he okay?” You asked. 

“When Belphie left, let’s just say Diavolo wasn’t exactly pleased,” Satan explained, a wicked grin stretching his lips wide. “So in exchange he agreed to be Diavolo’s personal servant tomorrow. I hope our Demon Lord has some entertaining things in store.” 

Belphie’s face brightened. “Did I do that? Whoops.” Hardly a glimmer of remorse in him. 

“You guys owe it to him at least to try and make it a calm night,” you urged, hoping to ease some of the shenanigans already being plotted in their minds. 

Mammon shook his head. “Why do we gotta owe him anything? If he’s out for the count tonight, I can hit the casinos without a problem!” He came over rubbing your head. “Give me some of that luck, yeah?” You doubted you had any, but he bounded out the door. 

“Belphie, I’ve got a little idea I’d like to try, but I need an extra set of hands. Care to join me?” Satan curled a little finger around his chin, mischief making his green eyes glow wild. 

Belphie chuckled. “Ab-so-lutely.” With devilish grins, they both sniggered, malevolent whispers drifting between them as they left. 

A rumbling growl echoed through the room. If this had been anywhere else, you would’ve been terrified. But this was the Devildom, and you knew Beel’s stomach when you heard it. “Oh...I’m sorry, MC, but I’m starving. I’ll see you in a bit.” He came over, trying to give you a hug despite Asmo still holding onto you for dear life. He ended up hugging both of you anyway. With more than a little speed, he also left your room, probably heading straight for the kitchen. 

A high pitched ‘bling’ reached your ears. Levi pulled out his D.D.D.. “Oh! The new patch for Sorcerer’s Scrolls has been released! I gotta go!” He moved to run but stopped in his tracks before he got too far. “Do you wanna...watch more of that show tonight?” 

“Sure, Levi,” you smiled, watching him sprint out of the room, a joyful spring in his step. Although, once everyone had left, you couldn’t help but lower your head, patting Asmo’s wrist. “You can leave too, Asmo, you don’t have to stay with me.” 

He made an overly dramatic gasp. “But I do! Don’t sound so sad!” Pulling a bit away from you, he let his cheeks turn a bit pink. “And to be completely honest, I’ve been dying to get some alone time with you.” He squirmed a little bit, but then jumped to his feet. “So! You just sit there and let Nurse Asmo take care of everything, ‘kay ‘kay?” Is that why he had brought that large bag with him when he came in? It was a peach-colored tote bag, settled on your table, a fluffy pink pom-pom clipped to one of the handles. He bounded towards it, rummaging around, looking for something important.

A little--well a lot--guarded against potential Asmo intentions, you tried craning your head to see if you could look inside, but no dice. The end of your nose tickled again as it had the past few days. Grabbing another tissue from your bedside, you tried to blow your nose as quietly as possible. Your poor nostrils were so dry by this point it was bordering on painful. You sniffled, reaching over to squirt some hand sanitizer in your hands. “I thought you hated being around sick people,” you told him. 

“You’re the only exception! Besides,” he grabbed out a familiar tool, one you had no idea how he got his hands on it. A stethoscope. “I want to use all these goodies Solomon got me!” 

The name still almost sent a shudder down your spine. “Solomon? Why?” 

Practically skipping back over, he sat beside you on the bed, strangely excited about this. “Aren’t bodies fascinating?” He touched his own skin, dragging his hand down his neck. “I love to know what makes this perfect body run! And you have absolutely no idea how desperately I’ve longed to know how yours does too!” Taking a good look at him, you could sense that he was truly and undeniably curious as to how your mortal body differed from his. Or possibly just craving a closer look into you altogether. Of course, you still had to close your eyes and deeply sigh. How many times would Solomon be the source of general chaos? Asmo took the end to the stethoscope, looking at it strangely. “Tell me, dear, how does this work?” You let out a light chuckle, and he looked at you curiously. “Don’t make fun of me, that’s just mean!” 

“I’m not! I’m not, I promise, it’s just…” He resembled that of a little kid right now, a rare sort of innocence about him. Here he was, a demon of many millennia, and he just wanted to play doctor for a bit. “Never mind.” Brushing off your thoughts, you took the binaurals, putting the earpieces in his ears. One of his hands gently clutched the diaphragm, so you wrapped your own hand around his, guiding the end of the stethoscope to your chest. 

Listening it to a moment, you could watch the gentle awe cross over his face. “T-that’s you.” 

You brought a hand up to cover your mouth. “Yes, Asmo, that’s me. What, you didn’t think I had a heartbeat?” 

“No, I knew! It’s just…” He closed his eyes, going silent. You didn’t want to disturb his moment, but you felt a sneeze coming on. Grabbing another tissue, you covered your nose, tilted your head down towards your lap, and sneezed. Moaning a bit, you blew your nose again, hard enough to make your ears pop. Sitting up, you chucked your used kleenex into the trash. You were about to apologize, but then the glee drained from Asmo’s face. He brought his hands up to his mouth and shrieked. 

“What?! What’s wrong?!” As soon as you had asked, the answer presented itself towards you. Warmth dripped down your lips, forcing you to close your mouth as fast as you could. 

“Blood! You’re bleeding! Hold on!” Lurching towards the tissues, Asmo pulled five out at a time, pressing it against your face. You pinched your nose, pressuring your hand against the bundle of kleenex. “Look at all this! No, no, no, no, you’ll be alright, darling.” Your gut instinct was to tilt your head up, but Asmo placed his hand on the top of your head, tilting it slightly forward. “Oh, don’t do that, you’ll end up swallowing it. Stay there, I’ll be right back.” He got up sprinting, leaving you alone with the smell and taste of blood. When he came back, he had a cold wet rag in his hands. “Here, use this instead. Give me those,” he softly ordered, tugging at the already blood soaked tissues. You took the rag in your hands, using that to stop the flow instead. He pulled you into his arms, rubbing your back. “Poor thing, it’s just non-stop problems for you right now, isn’t it?” You let him hold you, tilting your head against his as you waited for the blood to stop.  Slowly, he brought his hand up to pet the back of your head, giggling a bit to himself when the action made you shiver. 

After a bit of time, you tore away from him, cautiously removing the rag. You touched just above your lip, sighing in relief when it had stopped. “That was unexpected.” 

Stealing the cloth from you, he started wiping the excess blood off your face. “About gave me a heart attack!” With his free hand, he cupped the side of your face. 

A little idea crossed your mind. “Heart attack, huh? Better check that out.” Reaching for the stethoscope, you cleaned the earpieces before putting them in, pressing the small round medical disc to his chest. It was a bit stunning, you had to admit, how loud it sounded. In the human world before, any mentions of demons or angels were always in an ethereal sense. Whether you believed in them or not, you never really thought about them having hearts. Were they even similar to yours? At least...the drumming beating sound of life was the same. 

He finished up cleaning you off, tilting his head and grinning. “Well?” 

“Undeniably alive...and I’m very grateful for it.” 

He squealed, flopping onto you, pushing you both down onto the bed. Every hint that he had been frightened before was gone. “Aren’t you just the sweetest?! Come here, you!” He littered kisses over your face, sending you into a little flurry of embarrassed titters. 

“Asmo…” 

“Isn’t it a human saying that they can kiss the pain away?” He pecked his lips over your eyelids. “Well, you better prepare yourself...I won’t stop kissing your perfect little face till you feel better!”

The bedroom door violently swung open, the handle nearly making a dent in the wall. Demons poured in, nearly falling over each other. They were all in demon forms, ready to tackle more danger. When they noticed that Asmo was fawning over you, they all puffed up, jealous and irritated. “We heard you scream and thought something happened!” Lucifer roared. Kinda late, weren’t they?

“Hey, why’re you getting all kissy with MC?!” Mammon jumped onto the mattress, trying to pry you from his brother’s arms. 

“Don’t you think I deserve to be embracing them?” Satan attempted to push them both aside. Before you knew it, your room was a small war-arena, everyone climbing on the bed. You were squished between them, passed between different hands. Then something wobbled, the sound of wood and metal groaning before a loud snap pierced your ears. The bed hit the floor, a poof of dust causing you to cough. Your bedframe lay scattered in broken pieces across the ground. 

“My...bed…” You ran a hand through your hair, pinned under the doggy-pile of demon lords. You looked between each of them with stern looks, each of them blushing in embarrassment over their actions. “Well...I guess it means I’ll be using someone else’s bed for the foreseeable future.” 

All at once, their faces lit up, and at the same time they all shouted the same thing. “Me!”

[bruhstories]

forsaken

summary: in the aftermath of crossing the glass bridge, you and sang-woo comfort each other for the last time.

pairing: cho sang-woo x fem!reader

warning & content: age gap, unprotected sex, slight breeding kink, stabbing, death, fem bodied reader

word count: 1.4 k

a/n: i'm back with a ficlet cause oh boy, i haven't written in forever. unedited because we die like men.

You were in debt. A ton of debt. Studying pharmacy at Korea University, as well as living in Seoul took a toll on your wallet, and your father couldn't afford to send you money, which is how you found yourself in this sticky situation. Your mother was bedridden, and you decided to play that twisted game and use the hefty prize to pay for your tuition and your mother's medical bills.

But never in your life have you thought the game would end up in slaughtering hundreds of innocent people. The price was not only the money, but also your life.

You allied yourself with a few people for the tug of war game, people who were deemed as weak, yet through some miracle, you won and got to live for another day, thanks to player 001 and player 218. Cho Sang-woo. The man could very well be your father, almost two decades older than you, which is why you thought he was so keen on protecting you. But what started as an innocent friendship quickly turned into something more. A gentle touch here, a lustful look there, and you found yourself infatuated with the man. He told you about his mother, you told him about yours. He told you about his failures, you comforted him and offered support. After tug of war, something in you two clicked. After marbles, you realised how much you wanted him. After the glass bridge, you knew you needed to get out of there alive, with Sang-woo by your side.

With four people left, the masked guards prepared a feast for the finalists, and a set of clean clothes for you to wear.

Your hand felt the smooth silk of the shirt as you looked at yourself in the bathroom mirror. One more game, you thought, and you'd finally make it out alive. One more game, and you could carry on with your life. One more game, and you could be with him.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know you were inside." Sang-woo quickly covered his eyes and you couldn't help but smile at his politeness.

"It's alright, I don't mind if you get dressed with me." You assured him. "Besides, I wouldn't mind the company."

He half-nods, placing his set of clothes on the bathroom counter. He had so much pain hidden behind his dark eyes, but there was something more to that pain, something you couldn't yet figure out. He splashed cold water on his face, freshening himself up before unzipping his turquoise hoodie.

"What do you think the next game is?" You remove your t-shirt with your back turned to him.

"I honestly have no idea." Sang-woo can't help the way his eyes almost immediately fell on your figure.

"Like what you see?" You teased, a part of you still trying to lighten up the mood, but knowing very well that there's a big chance you might not survive.

"My apologies." He snaped his head to the other side, eyes searching for your reflection in the mirror.

"That's not what I asked." You glanced at his reflection, desire written all over your face. "Look, this final game... I don't know what will happen, but if I die-"

"You won't."

"If I die, I don't want to have any regrets." You turn around, malnourished fingers dragging across his shoulders, down to his arms, intertwining with his own fingers. "Make love to me, Sang-woo, please." Your voice needy and soft, and he can't resist it. You're his competition and his prize. His friend and his enemy. His angel and his demon — and out of all his demons, you're the worst.

He picks you up with ease, propping you in the cold bathroom counter, all of your clothes scattered on the floor. Your hands tug at his dark locks, his teeth sink into your skin, your legs wrap around his waist, his calloused fingertips dig into the plush of your thighs. At this point, you don't even care if the guards hear your moans, which grow louder with every touch and every kiss. And if one of you dies, then so be it. In the heat of the moment, you come up with an idea.

"S-Sang-woo, wait!" You cup his face into your small palms, eyes beaming with hope. "I got it!"

"What? What happened?" The look of confusion mixed with arousal has you even more excited.

"I know how we can both win. We play the game, eliminate Gi-hun and Sae-byeok, then vote to end the game. I don't care about the money, I don't care about winning, I only want to be with you."

He's silent, lips pursed, pondering your idea. What you said makes sense, it's the third clause of the game, and if only the two of you are left, and both decide to end the game, then they should end it.

"Alright, let's do it." He decides and you throw your arms around his shoulders.

"Thank you! Oh, Sang-woo, thank you!" You press your lips onto his, melting all the worries away with one kiss. The bit of hope you have in you makes you want this more, especially since there's absolutely no guarantee that you can eliminate the other two players.

Whether it was your words that gave him courage, or the idea that he will get to be with you, something in Sang-woo changed in a split second. He spreads your legs with his elbows, cock hard and throbbing before pulling you closer to him. You can feel the glistening tip press onto your soaking cunt, anticipation filling your heart before he painstakingly slowly pushes into you. You were no virgin, but still he is much bigger than any man you had before, only making you more aroused.

"Ah, fuck!" You arch your back, pressing it onto the mirror as he bottoms out with one swift thrust.

"Shit, you're so tight." He practically praises you, and you grip his shoulders, bracing yourself for what's about to come. You know you have to be quick, but you hope that after the final game, you two will have all the time in the world.

Your moans and whimpers echo in the bathroom as his thrusts become more brutal, pace quickening. You wish you could revel in this, kiss his neck, worship his body, but you can't, so you settle for bucking your hips against his for more pressure and friction.

"You're mine, Sang-woo, only mine!" You bury your face between his neck and his shoulder.

Behind your back, he looks in the mirror, right hand creeping towards the pile of formal clothes he brought with him.

"I'm yours." He repeats after you, his other hand bruising your hip. The pain makes you jolt up and he retracts his right arm from the pile of neatly folded clothes, snaking it between your arm and pulling you closer to him.

"I'll give you everything you need! Fuck, Sang-woo, I'll give you a family, a child!" You moan in his ear and you can feel his body tense at your words.

"Promise?" He pants, your cunt clenching around his cock.

"Yes, I promise!"

"Damn it, Y/N, I think I'm gonna-"

"Come in me, fill me up! Oh, god!"

The sinful, squelching sounds combined with your whimpers and his moans echoing in the bathroom slowly come to an end when you feel the hot liquid shooting up inside you, quickly replaced by a scorching hot pain in your abdomen. The smile on your lips fades away when you look down and see blood. A sharp shard of glass. And he twists it, making you cry out.

"I'm sorry," He says, removing the shard and stabbing you again with it, "but we both know there can only be one winner."

"H-help! Help me!"

"It's for the best." Sang-woo covers your mouth with his palm and you can taste your own blood on his fingers. "I can't have you turning against me in the final game."

Life slowly leaves your body with every ounce of blood oozing out of you, and you try to push him away, in vain. While you become weaker, he grows stronger.

"B-bastard..." You whisper, accepting your fate.

"I promise I'll pay for your mother's bills."

"Fuck y-you, Cho Sang-woo." You spit at him with the last bit of force you have left. "See you on t-the other side, w-when you lose..." You warn him with your dying breath.

And you were right. He lost everything.

[whimsinatural]

Isaac, Max, and a Borrowed Breath

Woah, new Pnat content from Whimsi??? Made mere days and not years ago???? unheard of! 

I wrote a li’l oneshot! Just a 4k word, G-rated action/comedy with a little Imaax sprinkled in. It’s also available on AO3! 

Summary: When a simple reconnaissance mission goes about as wrong as it possibly can, Isaac gets the chance he’d always dreamed of to prove how useful his powers can be---the chance to be a hero! In the heat of the moment, though? It’s so much less glorious than the cartoons always made it look... 

“Alright, kids, remember,” Mr. Spender had warned the Activity Club as they bubbled eagerly out of the noxiously car-freshener scented interior of Giancarlo and into the warm, sunny autumn evening. “We’re only looking for signs of the poltergeist: clawed footprints, burn marks on trees, or foreboding, grammatically questionable messages drawn into the mud. This is not a fighting mission! Kindly ask questions first and shoot later!”

He’d shouted the last part, because the kids had already tuned him out in their eagerness to get moving—or, more accurately, Ed and Isabel had already taken off into the brush, hooting with laughter. Max hadn’t been far behind them, which left Isaac no choice but to desperately scramble to avoid being left behind… again. 

Still—it wasn’t a bad day for another poorly-explained mission, Isaac noticed somewhat reluctantly. Birds and crickets chirped from the cover of the trees nearby, and a couple of tiny cat-moth spirits had been fluttering closer and closer to him since he’d left the car. When he lit his finger with cyan spectral energy, they followed all the paths and shapes he traced. No amount of torture could’ve extracted this confession from him, but it was sort of… well, magical. More magical than the average spirit encounter in his messed-up magical life. It was just—they were cute… and it was kinda like having a little animal familiar, like some of his favorite anime characters partnered with! 

“What are you sparkling about this time?” Max asked in a droll tone. Isaac jumped a little, cheeks immediately warm. He hadn’t noticed the wannabe batter lagging behind to walk next to him. He shook his hand out, and the fairy-cats dissipated with his spectral energy. 

“Uh. Nothing? I—I don’t sparkle!” He made a face, but he wasn’t sure if he was more annoyed with Max’s dumb question or his own dumb answer. “Look, you’ve got the wrong guy—ask Spender, he’s the sparkly one.” 

Max shrugged, smirking lazily and swinging his bat up to rest on his shoulder. He cast an exaggerated glance between Isaac and the history teacher a few paces ahead of them. “I mean, now that you say it, I can see it. There’s some resemblance there,” he drawled. 

“Wh-hey!” The blue glow cast from his sudden outburst of spectral energy reflected on Max’s smug smile. “I do not! Take that back!” 

“No, no, hear me out,” Max elaborated. ‘You’re both, like, wisened and world-weary elderly.” 

“I’m only one year older than you,” Isaac grumbled, shoving Max’s shoulder. 

“Chronically bad at keeping secrets,” Max continued, counting off on his fingers. “Emotionally volatile, brooding protagonist weirdos. Probably could fry any monster without blinking but can’t withstand three seconds of a snark attack before immediately crumpling. I bet you’d both forward those dumb bad-juju chain emails if you knew enough people to send ‘em to. I bet you both eat your chips with chopsticks.” He shrugged. “Not to mention them matching beautiful baby blues and sparkles, my guy. Time to face the truth; you’re practically long lost twins.” 

Isaac sputtered for thirty seconds straight, fighting an uphill battle through waves of offense before any of Max’s words had even gained any meaning. “Wh–hhh–ugh–shut up! You don’t know anything!” There wasn’t anything wrong with—he didn’t just eat chips with chopsticks to harness the power of anime, it was cool and unique and artful and kept his fingers from getting greasy! And— “Wait, Spender has blue eyes?” 

“Alright, I was gambling on that one, but how can he not? I mean.” Max gestured at Spender. “If I didn’t know better, I would think he’s possessed by the ghost of Barbie-Ken. Look at ‘im.” 

Okay, that was kind of funny. He glanced at their club leader weaving gingerly through the tall grass ahead of them, currently tussling his own hair in thought while gazing off into the distance. He was wearing a blue button-down, khaki shorts, Adidas sandals, and—of course—his signature sunglasses. Something about him did seem vaguely… plastic. 

Isaac snorted, meeting Max’s dark blue-gray eyes again. “Well… I’ll give you that one. Funny, I’d always kinda imagined him with—eh, maybe light hazel eyes?” Golden, he’d almost said, but that would’ve sounded weird. Not that it mattered. It was kinda weird to realize that he hadn’t looked Spender in the eyes even once in the two years he’d known him. Just another dumb, pointless secret. 

Wait a second. Isaac raised a brow smugly. “Anyway—didn’t take you for a Barbie fan, Max.” 

The reaction he got wasn’t anywhere near the level of the flustered reactions he gave, but he’d take Max’s subtle mis-step as a small victory. “Yeah, me either, Elsa, but tragically, I have a nine-year-old sister and intact observation skills.” 

Isaac mimed a flicking motion in Max’s direction, sending a miniature gust of a snowstorm at him. Max shivered, but otherwise he took it all in stride. “...You’re just proving my point, you know.” 

Isaac rolled his eyes amiably. “I could take out Elsa with both arms tied behind my back, and you know it.” 

“See, there’s that Disney villain energy we all know and love,” Max cheered monotonously. “All that’s left is the song and dance, and your transformation will be complete.” 

“Is that a dare?” Isaac grinned evilly. 

“What? No. It’s a taunt. Don’t–” 

For a glorious instant, Isaac managed to both form recognizable tentacles out of spectral energy and sing the first few notes in-tune: “Poor unfortunate souls! In pain! In need!” 

“Aaaaaah,” Max groaned tunelessly, halfheartedly covering his ears with his hands—but he was grinning, too. “Okay, you win, weather witch. Spare me, have mercy.”

“Agh! Isaac!” Isabel shouted reproachfully from the front of the group, and his self-confidence and smile both immediately fell flat, replaced with a scowl and heat in his cheeks. What was he doing? He—he’d almost completely forgotten that anyone else was even there. He’d been… well, acting like a total loser dork, but he’d been having fun.

Then he and Max stepped into the abrupt bank of mist and drizzle, too, and he realized suddenly that Isabel hadn’t been complaining about his singing. “It’s not me!” He shouted back. 

Max elbowed him gently, startling him. “Don’t tell me they always blame you when the weather turns,” he scoffed. “Or else I’ve got a lot of complaints to file for bright, blinding sunshine that could’ve been school snow days. Or at least a little overcast.” 

Isaac only managed to answer with a weak smile before something else answered for him, screeching out of the thick fog with a voice like a rusty faucet handle. Five different colors of spectral energy shot up, even more ghostly-looking than normal as the ethereal light reflected eerily on the ambient water droplets. Max readied his bat. Spender jogged ahead to catch up with Isabel and Ed, presumably to stop them before they could dash off and attack the source of the awful sound alone. With parallel motives (much to his chagrin), Isaac held a hand out in front of Max in a motion between shielding the newbie and holding him back. 

“Max, wait. It could be dangerous,” he cautioned, ignoring the eyeroll he received in return. “Or… it might not be aggressive at all—it could just be a hurt spirit or something. Either way, we should think about this before we–” 

“We’re not gonna figure out anything by standing here,” Max objected, but he was immediately proven wrong by the sounds of shouting and threats of impending violence up ahead. The two boys shared a look, then hurried to catch up with the rest of the club. 

Isaac hadn’t realized they’d been so close to the lake until he watched the spirit ahead rise from it in a mass of writhing tentacles. It had a long, green, arched scaly neck and a metallic, toothy muzzle shaped sort of like an alligator’s, lined with holes that sprayed mist. The light of the sunset created a rainbow halo effect on the dense fog surrounding it. The matte red frill on the back of the spirit’s head resembled something between decorative horns and the spigot of a hose. With another blood-curdling creaking sound, the spigot spun, and the fog and drizzle pouring out from its eyes and all the divots along its face were replaced with pressurized streams of water. Isabel opened her umbrella over herself and Ed; everyone else was drenched as the beast gazed down on them. It hovered there, regarding them as the group stared back up at it.

“Did we make it cry?” Ed guessed, paintbrush in hand. “Maybe we just spooked the poor spook. Or maybe it really, really liked Isaac’s singing.” 

“It’s not what we’re looking for, is it?” Isabel asked Spender, ignoring Ed’s theory while, rather uncharacteristically, following the mission orders and checking with their team leader slash figurehead before resorting to violence. 

“No,” Spender called over the hissing and drumming sound of the falling water all around them, taking a single step back. “I think it’s only territorial. Come along; if we back away, it should leave us–” 

He cut off with a yelp when the thing abruptly bent down, snagged him around the waist with its teeth and spun its head, whipping Spender around end-over-end like a plane propeller, all the while spraying water in great spiral patterns like a hyperactive lawn sprinkler. In a burst of bright yellow light, Spender fell. The spirit’s freshly-detached head fell into the shallow water with him, metal jaws still locked around his trunk. The neck flopped down into the water an instant later, missing Spender by a few feet. It looked hollow inside like a garden hose, still sluggishly pouring fresh water into the muddy, churned-up lake. 

Spender splashed up out of the lake with a gasp and a cheery thumbs-up, looking like a half-drowned golden retriever but free from the gator’s jaws. It must not have had very sharp teeth, as he didn’t look injured. He must’ve still been a little dizzy, though, because he only managed a few steps before tripping, ending up on his hands and knees in the muck. “I’m alright!”

Isabel broke out of her default fighting stance to run towards the monster, Ed in hot pursuit. A spectral sword gleamed in her free hand. “Mr. Spender!”

The spirit hadn’t given up the ghost yet. The hose slowly unfurled and rose above the group again, oozing water and gray spectral energy. The mixture took on the shape of two new, smaller heads facing opposite each other, quickly solidifying. If the hydra had looked upset before, it was furious now. It resumed its downpour with redoubled efforts. 

Isabel took a slice out of a thick, hollow tentacle right before it flattened Spender, causing the creature to withdraw the appendage momentarily. Ed looked like he was trying to draw something, but the ink kept running down his arm instead. Isaac fired off a spec-shot and it just barely grazed past the hydra’s leftmost bulging, weeping silver eyeball. The thing shook its head, spun its spigot, sprayed more water, and suddenly darted to snap at Isaac in the same way it had attacked Spender. He dodged quickly, firing another spec-shot. He thought he heard it strike, but it was hard to tell—the air was so thick with water, it was running in his eyes and making it hard to see. Which was stupid, given that he had weather powers. He should be immune to rain. Swimming goggles would’ve been great right now. At least it wasn’t ectoplasm or anything else potentially corrosive—it was going in his ears and his mouth and his nose, and it tasted exactly like tap water. 

He’d fry the thing, but he wasn’t sure he really wanted to kill it—just scare it off, maybe. Even then, couldn't see more than a few yards in front of him at best, and… even if he didn’t hit anything directly, he was afraid of the lightning traveling through the water and electrocuting someone else. His hands were tied. No wonder nobody ever wanted him at their back in a fight.

Gritting his teeth, he ran towards the fray, summoning a spectral weapon and a gust of wind to clear the air around him somewhat. Maybe if he got close, he could freeze its mouth shut and they could all still make a quick getaway. Somewhere ahead and to his right, he could hear Isabel’s war cry, still distinctive amid the raucous splashing and screeching of the hose hydra-gator thing. The hydrator. 

He ducked as another sleek green tentacle whipped over his head, jabbing up at it blindly with his electric-blue spectral spear. The construct flared up in his hand and lost its shape at the cut-off scream behind him. “Max!” He whirled in place, watching in horror as the appendage swiftly snatched his friend. It whipped him back through the air towards the hydrator, leaving his baseball cap lying upside-down in the fresh mud. Panicked crackles of lightning snapped around Isaac’s arms, filling his chest and frying his nerves as he ran after Max. What was it gonna do—eat him? Crush him to death? Throw him halfway across the lake? He snarled and summoned a bigger gust of wind, boosting his speed and momentarily flinging the torrential spray back at the hydrator to clear his vision. There were the tell-tale flashes of yellow, red and green energy battering on the body of the monster, but where was Max? He hesitated, still panting and sparking.

Something shoved him from behind, just strong and unexpected enough that he stumbled forward a few steps. His eyes widened and he clapped a hand to his back right pants pocket, but there was nothing there—just his phone, probably wrecked from all the water and electricity. Because of the metal components. Magnetism. Max! He charged forwards in the direction his pocket pulled him, splashing through knee-deep and then waist-deep water, shooting off the occasional spec-shot to ward off more tentacle attacks. Heaving a few deep, rapid breaths, he dove. 

It took his stinging eyes a few moments to adjust to the murky water, but that didn’t slow him down. There, a flash of silver and black against the silt and algae—Max! He wasn’t still wrapped up in the hydrator’s tentacle, but he looked half-buried in the muck at the bottom of the lake. He must’ve seen Isaac, too, because he was waving frantically.

Isaac almost swam back up to the surface to catch his breath, lungs already aching—and it really wasn’t that deep, but—Max had been down here longer! He was gonna drown if he didn’t do something! He quickly paddled his way over. The magnetism in his pocket stopped pulling him along as Max gave up on using his powers and tried to use his bat to push away from whatever had him trapped instead, to no avail. Isaac gripped him under his arms and pulled up with all his might. Max didn’t budge except to claw at Isaac’s shirt. His ankle was caught—he was really trapped down here, and he was going to drown, holy crackers, this couldn’t be happening! 

Help me, he thought angrily, as if King C. cared. But the half-addled plea gave him the spark of an idea, and quickly, he raised both arms, summoning the biggest, hardest gust of wind he ever had straight down towards them. Amazingly, it split the lakewater above them, tunneling down through the churning water and blasting boatloads of mud and pondscum off into the walls of water around them. The force of it drove Isaac down to his knees. It was too harsh to breathe! Coughing and spitting, with more concentration than he’d ever lent anything else in his life, he eased the vicious wind until it was just at the edge of his control. The water regathered again above them, but his constant, careful tugging and stirring of the air in their bubble held it together and tethered it in place around him and Max. 

Standing there on the bottom of the Mayview lake, he took a tremorous breath of the dry fish-and-ozone scented air. His knees and his hands shook. His teeth chattered. Keeping his hands raised so he wouldn’t lose command of their air supply, he offered a wobbly grin to Max. 

Max, whose eyes were bugging out of his skull and whose fingers were digging painfully into Isaac’s shoulders. Max, whose mouth was gaping open without any sound. Max, who was still not breathing! Isaac swore. What was he supposed to do? He’d never done the Heimlich maneuver, or… uh… mouth to mouth… or anything like that! Dangit, he was useless! 

The bubble wobbled around them in response to Isaac’s panic, and a little arc of lightning flew from one of Isaac’s hands to the other, narrowly missing Max. He didn’t seem to notice. Isaac took a deep breath, trying to steady himself for… CPR, maybe, or at least the best he could do from what he’d seen on TV. He was pretty sure he could do the heart pumping part, and maybe even off-brand defibrillation; he wasn’t so sure about the breathing thing. But, wait: breath was wind, wasn’t it? It was kind of a stretch, but—crud, he was so freaking stupid. 

Hands occupied, he pursed his lips and inhaled sharply like sucking through a straw, trying to force a tiny gust of wind up through Max’s windpipe. He almost didn’t notice the little freed glob of spit and mud splattering on his cheek, overwhelmed by the sound of Max finally taking a long, rasping inhale. The white-knuckle grip on both his shoulders didn’t release for the span of a few more heaving coughs. For completely different reasons than before, he almost lost control of the bubble again when Max finally sagged forwards, letting his forehead drop onto Isaac’s shoulder. 

“Uh,” Isaac tried, swallowing hard. The temptation to squeeze Max like a teddy and cry was sudden and almost overpowering. He settled for tentatively lowering one arm to pat Max on the back. “You okay?” 

“Ughh,” Max groaned hoarsely. He cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Flippin’... heck.” 

“Yeah,” Isaac agreed dumbly. 

They stood like that for a while. It was really hard to focus on keeping the air swirling at a constant speed so the bubble didn’t break up. Maybe that was a blessing in disguise, since it also kept Isaac from focusing too much on whatever had just happened and whatever was currently still happening. He continued rubbing small circles into Max’s back, almost succeeding at breathing with a normal rhythm. 

“So.” Max finally retreated. “I’m still stuck.” 

“Oh. Right.” Isaac pursed his lips, trying (and failing) to keep his cool. Max bent down to pull at the slimy pond gunk his ankle had gotten wrapped in. After watching his trembling fingers struggle to tear through the mess of weeds and roots, Isaac crouched down to get a closer look and offer whatever assistance he could with his free hand. Maybe he’d moved too quickly, because he almost fell back on his butt—he was kinda dizzy for some reason. The adrenaline high and recycled air, probably. 

Something vaguely shiny mixed up in the gunk snared around Max’s ankle caught his eye, and his anger lent him a moment of clarity. “Is this… fishing line?” It was one thing to almost die during an epic battle with a hydra monster, but drowning because some dumb, lazy jerk littered? That was unforgivable.

“Mmyep. I’m guessing you don’t have a pocket knife or anything, being a pacifist,” Max grumbled. 

“I’m not technically a—no,” Isaac huffed. “I don’t. But maybe we can… uh…” He had the brief mental image of trying to bite it off Max’s ankle, but immediately shook that idea out of his head. He had to pull their bubble back down after that, as it had started to rise up past Max’s knees. 

“Alright. Cool. Good,” Max huffed, still trying to work his jittery fingers under the tightly knotted material. “I mean, I gotta say, I’ve never sympathized much with the whole vegan cause before, given that you all seem like some kinda weird extremists, but now that I’ve had the full immersive experience of being a pitiable sea animal trapped by, uh, man’s carbon waste ‘n’ junk, I can respect your whole eco footprint gig. Not that I’m giving up cheese or pepperoni or whatever any time soon. Rrgh.” He paused to shake his hands out, clearly frustrated. 

Isaac cracked a smile at that. “You can be the guest of honor at our next Pro-Earth Vegan Agenda meeting. Here.” He formed a jagged icicle and slipped it between Max’s skin and the twine. “Sorry… I’ll try not to hurt you, but this is, uh. Probably pretty cold and sharp.” 

“Thanks. I noticed,” Max deadpanned. 

It was difficult with one hand. Isaac winced more than Max did every time he nicked him with the sharp edge of the ice, but it was working. Finally, the last stubborn piece of twine snapped. Max kicked his feet behind him a few times, making sure he was free and probably trying to return some circulation to his feet. Isaac let the ice fizzle away and stood. 

“Are you alright to swim out of here?” Isaac asked, peering up at their warped reflections on the underside of the surface of the lake. 

“What, you don’t wanna wade through the muck together like this? It’s like a really low-budget aquarium,” Max objected mildly. 

Isaac squinted at him. Max’s poorly cobbled-together lackadaisical airs broke apart much quicker than usual under the mild scrutiny. He ducked his head, scratching his hairline like he wanted to pull his cap down. “Uh. I mean…” Max shucked off his backpack. “Turns out it’s kinda hard to swim with all this scrap. I guess I could just leave this here, though. If you’re not gonna call the vegan cops on me for littering or whatever.” 

Oh. That explained how he’d ended up down here in the first place—or, it made more sense than imagining the hydrator grinding him down into the gook like an overzealous kid squashing a spider. “I could probably carry that for you, if you want me to. Or you might be able to launch it up to shore by using your tool,” he pointed out. 

Max held his backpack out at arm’s length, positioning his bat underneath it at an angle. “Welp. I’ll take door number two, ‘cuz I’m not in the mood for an instant replay if you get stuck.” Abruptly, the backpack rocketed out of Max’s grasp and broke through the water above them, arcing through the air and out of sight. “Sorry, Mr. Spender; the magnets ate my homework,” he muttered. 

“I’m gonna let go of the bubble,” Isaac warned. “You ready?” 

Max held up one hand. “Wait.” He wrung the handle of his bat in his hands, looking away and heaving a few deep breaths before squaring his shoulders and nodding. “...Yeah, okay.” 

Isaac swam slowly to keep pace with Max, who was obviously capable of swimming but somewhat hindered by the unwieldy weight of his tool. They broke the surface together, spitting and blinking the lakewater away. The hydrator was gone. The air was clear, and the colors of the evening sky lit the lake with a rosy hue from above. 

“Isaaaac?” Spender’s worried voice called out from somewhere over by the treeline. “Maaax??” 

“Over here!” Isaac shouted, kicking up a little higher in the water for a second to wave a hand before resuming the swim to the shore. Isabel must have heard him; he could hear her shouting for the others over the splashing of water, and soon enough the whole group was happily reunited on soggy land. 

Isabel immediately wrapped one arm around each of them, to Max’s wriggly, grumbly annoyance and Isaac’s secret delight. “Guys! You’re alive!” She declared, squeezing them both. “We did it! Team Activity Club for the win!!” 

“I toldja that was Max’s backpack flyin’ up out of the lake o’er yonder,” Ed grinned as Max twisted out of Isabel’s grasp. Isaac ducked to follow suit, abashed but much more reluctant to relinquish the attention.

Spender was still struggling to catch his breath from jogging over. “I’m so sorry, kids, I should’ve… ah, well… are either of you hurt? What on earth happened, where were you?” 

“Uh, we were… in the lake…?” Isaac side-eyed Max, at a loss for how to describe what they’d just been through. 

“Isaac is certifiably cool now,” Max announced, crossing his arms. “I’m promoting him as the executive manager of cool in this club. All other opinions are invalid. No, I will not be taking questions.” Maintaining a perfectly straight face, he shot Isaac a decisive nod and a wink. 

“Um. Come again?” Spender tried, but everyone pretty much ignored him. 

“Congratulations, kid,” Ed offered, clapping Isaac on the back in a grandfatherly way. 

Isaac blinked, belatedly hiding his big dumb grin and flushed cheeks with a hand. “Oh... thanks.” 

After reclaiming Max’s cap and backpack, the group wearily made their way back to Spender’s car, original mission abandoned. It was a relief to call it quits early, but it almost felt… anticlimactic, after everything that had happened. Surreal, maybe.

At least—it did until the car pulled up to the Corner Store. Before getting out, Max leaned over to bump Isaac’s shoulder with his own, smiling and nodding before quickly looking away and pulling down the brim of his cap. “Hey, man. Thanks for the save back there. Gotta admit, that was pretty cool,” he offered in a low tone. 

“Oh,” Isaac managed breathlessly, mindlessly bunching up the hem of his damp shirt in his fists. “Thank you. Uh, I mean. Yeah. Anytime.” 

Max glanced back one last time as he stepped out, smirking and tapping the rim of his cap like a salute. “Sure. See you tomorrow, Isaac.” 

He wasn’t able to pull himself together enough to answer before his new friend had already closed the heavy car door and left, but it didn’t matter. That sweet, giddy feeling stuck with him all the way home. 

----

a/n epilogue: 

Isabel forgot the tooled-up Hydrator (a soggy shopping receipt) in her pocket and sent it through the wash where it disintegrated, so now her washing machine is possessed and occasionally spits water everywhere or tries to nom Spender.

Spender cried all the way home because the kids got so much mud in his pretty car.

Isaac and Max started to hang out outside of club time and watch dorky sporty/action cartoons while both fervently pretending not to enjoy it.

Ed was Ed. ('nuff said). 

(thanks for reading!!! <3)

[valdemart]

Valdebreed Part 2

Us: *votes for courtier content*

Nyx Hydra: Yeah we’re not gonna actually do that lol

I tried to keep Valdemar as in character as possible but honestly? Fuck cannon. If Nyx Hydra isn’t going to feed us, I am! Come get y’all lunch!

NSFW ValdemarxReader Consentacles, way too much cum, dirty talking Valdemar, breeding kink, ruined furniture, pet names, after care probably a rushed intro but fuck it.

After pulling yourself together and freshening up in a very well-earned bath, you made your way back to your room where Valdemar waited.

The fire place had been lit. It was also the only light in the room. If it hadn’t been your own room, you might have bumped into something as you made your way over to where you could see Valdemar.

When you first moved in, there had been a chair in the library that you had fallen in love with. It was an oversized arm chair, big enough to curl up in, made of burgundy velvet. You sank into it like a spoiled house cat and read for hours at a time. Valdemar had found you napping in it at some point and shortly after you had found it had been moved to your room. That’s where they sat now. Naked.

 Valdemar never disrobed. Ever. Honestly, you had wondered a few times if their clothing wasn’t part of their actual body. This wasn’t their ‘real’ form, after all. You wouldn’t have been totally shocked to learn that their coat was just their true form’s arm or something, molded to look like clothing. Apparently, you were wrong. All of their skin was the same olive hue as their face and hands, the only other skin of theirs you had really seen before. They were a rectangular shape, their waist only dipping in slightly beneath their ribcage before fulling out to their hips. Their ribs were almost all entirely visible, the shadows cast by the firelight highlighting each groove and protuberance. And sitting on those ribs were the tiniest handfuls of breast tissue, with such perfectly symmetrical shape and nipples that they very obviously weren’t ‘human’. You’d only ever known breasts to be perfect mirror images of each other on statues. You could follow their legs up to their lap, but then all you could make out was shadow.

They were breathtakingly and horrifyingly beautiful.

“I think I’m…overdressed,” you said, your voice so thick with anticipation that you had to pause to swallow before you could finish your sentence.

“For now. I thought this particular situation called for some vulnerability on my part. Disrobe, Little Mouse.”

You slid off your robe and let it pool at your feet, leaving you as bare as they were.

“Come to me.”

You were before them in an instant, desperate to be near them. On them. Filled with them.

“Sit.”

You straddled their lap slowly, knowing the extent of their strength, but still slightly put off by the sight of their ribs. Parts of your brain seemed to have mistaken them for human.

You shivered as your chest pressed against theirs and your nipples hardened against their cool skin. You noticed quietly that theirs were still unerect and soft against you. Their hands wrapped around you gently, their fingers somehow sliding perfectly into the spaces between your ribs where they connected to your spine. If they squeezed, they could probably collapse your whole chest cavity. You had seen them crush a femur in their fist like it had been made out of sugar.

“We’re you ready to begin the experiment, Mouseling?”

“Kiss me first?”

Their lips were cold and thin and they felt so good against your heated skin.

There was loud crackling noise, too loud to have been from the fireplace, followed by a grotesque, wet sound. It sounded like someone was butchering a chicken right in front of you and you would have fallen back to the floor in surprise if Valdemar hadn’t been holding you.

You only saw it for a second but, in the firelight, you saw a cleft on Valdemar’s sternum that started to split open further like the skin was being retracted. You yelped and Valdemar reached out to grab your chin and hold your head upright.

“Look at me, Mouseling. Look only at me.”

They released your chin but your eyes never left theirs. You watched the flames behind you flicker in their red eyes as something unimaginably horrible was happening right below you. The sound traveled downward until it stopped where their genitals would be. Then it was quiet again. You could feel the dark energy emanating from just a few inches below you, but your eyes never left Valdemar’s and you weren’t sure if it was from fear or servility.

“Such an obedient little thing,” Valdemar praised as they brushed your hair off your face. You were sweating despite the chill of their skin and your head was swimming. Their magic tended to do that to you. Asra’s magic and your own magic never made you sick, but Valdemar’s always did. You weren’t sure if it was because it came from a different source or because it was too strong for you. Asra said it was a much older, much darker magic, and that even he wasn’t completely sure he understood it. That had upset you at first, and you tried to argue with him that Valdemar wasn’t evil and you were sick of everyone’s constant comments about it, but he merely placed a finger to your lips to silence you and said ‘I said dark energy, not evil energy’. To Asra’s credit, he handled your relationship with the doctor better than most people had.

But what would he think about a baby?

“Allow me to show you just how satisfying that which you fear is.”

Several appendages the width of a finger started to caress your body, making you jerk away against them, but Valdemar held you steady and your eyes never left theirs. They stared at you, unblinking and smiling softly, as their little tendrils fondled your stomach and legs. They were wet and soft like small tongues, and they left trails of moisture wherever they lapped. While they were a little unnerving, the sensation was like nothing you had felt before. Especially when they found your breasts. They flicked against your nipples flatly before wrapping around them to tug lightly. Your clit pulsed desperately with each little caress and your wet hole clenched around nothing, leaving you feeling desperately empty.

You groaned softly and bucked forward, trying to guide even one of those tendrils to where you now needed it most.

“Impatient?” Valdemar asked, knowing damned well the answer to their own question. “We have the rest of eternity.”  

Still, the tendrils descended then. Some softly pulled your lips apart, exposing you, while others tasted you. Two alternated flicks against your clitoris while three or maybe four slid into you at varying depths.

You keened and bucked into Valdemar’s lap, but you knew nothing you could do would change anything they had planned for you.

“Let’s get you nice and prepared to take my seed.”

It didn’t take long for the appendages to lubricate you, perhaps excessively so. Your body was wet now, and it caused you to shiver against the air.

The tendrils working your body withdrew, and you whined pitifully.

“Hush, Pet,” Valdemar said softly, though clearly unannoyed.

There was a singular tendril then, thicker than any of the last ones. A blunt head prodded you gently for a moment before sliding fully inside. Its girth stretched you, but whatever Valdemar had covered you in took away all resistance.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and, for a moment, you were worried they wouldn’t come back. This was so much more than anything Valdemar had ever given you. You doubted Valdemar had an established phallus, especially since they shapeshifted every other part of their physical form. This huge thing inside of you was made specifically because they wanted you helplessly full, pinned from the inside.

“I c-cant…Val…”

You weren’t asking for them to stop. No, this was delicious. You need this. But it was so, so much.

“You can. And you will.”

The phallus withdrew slowly to the tip before sliding back in just as slowly, all while Valdemar didn’t move a muscle. It was so typical of the demon, to wreck you without any indication of physical response on their end. They were going to fuck you and anyone watching would think they had nothing to do with it.

Valdmar’s…cock? For lack of a better comparison in your mind fucked you in the uniform way Valdemar did anything. While it lacked human variation, it was unrelenting in its endeavor to impregnant you.

“I can feel your little cunt milking me. Your body’s as desperate to get pregnant as you are.”

Your head dropped with a heavy moan and Valdemar shifted back, taking your full weight against them. If this dicking didn’t kill you, them talking like that certainly would. The heat inside of you was becoming unbearable. All you needed was a little bit more.

“Can you go faster?” You asked softly as you jerked your hips forward into their thrusting.

“Weren’t you just saying you couldn’t handle things as they were?”

You whined pitifully at their teasing.

“Please? Please? Please?”

With each beg you humped yourself harder. You could feel your climax mounting and all you wanted was to finish with Valdemar this deep inside of you. You weren’t above begging.

“Of course, Duckling. We need your orgasm to move my ejaculate to your womb.”

Their weird medical speak should have been embarrassing, but your walls fluttered around them.

One of their hands found the back of your head while the other wrapped around your waist. When Valdemar pushed back into you, it was a sharp, hard thrust and you cried out before you fell forward. You moaned loudly into the fabric of the chair and Valdemar held you against it.

“I have you.”

The tentacle started to piston in and out of you, the speed of the penetration through both of your fluids making the most unholy of sounds, like someone drowning in mud. Your body jiggled and shuddered against Valdemar as they remained perfectly still while they kept you caged to them.

“Val! Val-d-de-mah! Ah! Ah! Ah!”

It was right there. You could feel yourself about to snap. Just a little more. Oh, please just a little more. Oh please oh please oh please oh please

A few of the small tendrils from earlier reappeared to lap at your clit and you screamed into the chair. As you contracted around the still thrusting phallus, you could feel it erupt. The fluid coming out of it wasn’t hot or cold, but there was a ridiculous amount of it. It squirted inside of you before you felt it leak out around the two of you, quickly causing a puddle to form in Valdemar’s lap. Despite this, they were still moving in and out of you, fucking their cum back inside of you as it came out.

Too spent to try and wiggle away from the overstimulation, you whimpered for mercy.

“ ‘S too much. Val…”.

“I’m only trying to make sure you’re completely inseminated. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

Despite their teasing, their tendril retracted out of you. You shuddered, both thankful for the break and grieving the loss of fullness.  

“Val…That was crazy…”

“Science often is.”

It wasn’t hard for Valdemar to maneuver you onto your back in their lap, despite you being completely dead weight. Hooking one arm under your knees, they elevated your lower body and cradled you.

“You’re being too wasteful with my sperm, Little One. You need to be more grateful.”

Finally able to look at yourself, you saw that you were bathed almost completely in black. It started around your breasts where the tendrils had played with you and you grew darker the further down yourself you looked. Of course, Valdemar came black. You doubted anything viable in terms of offspring would actually come of this, but the closeness, the intimacy, that was what you had really needed. The brain melting orgasm hadn’t hurt either.

“I love you.”

Valdemar hummed in acknowledgement before softly running a finger down your stomach, through the gummy pitch they had covered you in, before tracing small circles around your womb.

Every time the fire flickered, the lighting on their face changed, making them look like they were morphing briefly. You couldn’t help but smile.

“We’re going to have such cute kids.”

[bokettochild]

Ooh for a fluff piece you should do Hyrule and Warriors and something with claustrophobia (although that has the potential for angst real fast so feel free to ignore me)

Oops, I think my hand slipped.....

(Sorry I didn't get to this for so long, I've been crazy busy and wasn't sure how to approach writing angst until people apparently started crying at my attempt at crack :)

Glass.

Glass walls and a glass floor. A cork ceiling and too little air, too little space to breathe, too little space to function.

Hyrule’s breath hitches again with a silent whimper, his glow fading slowly with every second spent inside of his prison. Outside, he can hear the reverberating shouts of the others, fear and worry in their voices as they call out, likely shouting for him, looking and worrying and screaming in concern.

‘I’m right here!’ He wants to call back, wants to wail to the glass walls that press closer and closer around him. ‘Guys, I’m here, let me out!’ But they won’t hear. They won’t hear his tiny voice, especially not when it’s trapped inside this glass prison.

“Any sign?” The vet’s voice is strained and desperate, violet eyes flickering with fear as they dart from one tired Hero of Courage to another. “He’s got to be here somewhere!”

“Nothing.” There are tears in Sky’s eyes, and even if he’s clearly trying to be strong for the others there’s a heavy slump to his shoulders as if the weight of all of their problems hangs from them. “Twilight and I looked all over, his trail just...ends...”

“He’s got to be somewhere!” Wind protests, voice breaking and fists clenching as the sailor looks over each of them, fear and worry in the kid’s eyes as he stubbornly denies the report Twilight gently gives the rest of them.

It’s not a pretty sight.

Hyrule had only wandered off for a minute while they’d all freshened up in the stream near their camp, but that was all the time needed for him to disappear, tracks ending suddenly and no sign of him, not even a droplet of blood or a broken blade of grass left behind for them to track him with. It was Four who noticed, and while jokes and laughter had sounded as they all teased each other about the Traveler getting lost, the jokes had faded when Twilight had come back, eyes shining with worry as he informed them of Hyrule’s lack of a trail.

All mirth had died then, and eight dripping heroes had abandoned all save their weapons to search for their brother. Their cheeks redden in the cooling night air, Four sneezing occasionally as he pulls his tunic over his head while they speak. None of the others bother, standing about in all states of dress as they consider what to do.

“We’ve searched everything within two miles.” Wild murmurs pensively. “And there’s only one trail, even Hyrule can’t cover his tracks so well that Twilight can’t find him.”

“But I can’t find him, Cub.” Twilight’s voice is almost a whine, eyes pained as the rancher sits with his head in his hands. “There’s no signs! It’s like he just, vanished!”

Time’s heavy hand comes to rest on his protégé's shoulders, rubbing gently over them in an attempt at comfort that Twilight shows no interest in accepting.

They’re worn, Warriors sighs to himself. His brothers have been pushing themselves for weeks and today was meant to be a day of rest and rejuvenation beside the river. But here they sit, worry carving lines across the faces of even their youngest, shoulders drawn up close to ears or slumped in resignation. It’s been hours, Hyrule should be back by now.

Sky’s tired gaze meets his own over the heads of the younger heroes, there’s determination fighting against reassignment inside of sapphire blue, but Sky forces a weak smile for his sake, silent words passing between the two before both nod in finality. “There’s no sign-”

“We know that Sky!” The vet snaps, hands buried in his still dripping hair. “Twilight, you have your things, right?” The vet asks pointedly, breath hitching and coming in short little bursts as he looks up to the rancher.

Twilight nods, dropping one hand to tug at something hidden under his collar “Yeah.”

“Does Hyrule has any items that let him fly? Oh Nayru! I should have asked him!” The vet’s panicking now, and it’s agitating the younger heroes as his feet tap nervously at the ground, hands shaking as they run repeatedly through his bangs and tap against his thighs.

Wind’s worrying at the hem of his tunic and Wild scratches at his scars, and Warriors has no doubt that if Four wasn’t shivering and wrapping himself in his arms that the smithy would also be fidgeting nervously.

Sky sighs heavily, grabbing his sailcloth from the ground and wrapping it around the smithy’s shoulders carefully. “Like I said, there’s no sign so far. But we have to trust in Hyrule’s abilities. The traveler’s a tough egg, he doesn’t break easily and he knows what he’s doing in a forest, especially a dangerous one.” The Skyloftian shoots Legend a pointed glance, cutting off the young veteran before he can start fussing again. “It’s getting dark and we won’t be able to see, and if we’re too loud and keep disturbing the forest, we’ll only alert any monsters that might be around here to our presence. We’ll make camp here for the night and keep looking in the morning, after everyone has a warm meal.”

“He’s out there!” Legend insists.

“And he’s strong. I can’t help Hyrule right now, none of us can, not in this darkness. But I can make sure you all rest and get something to eat.” Sky’s voice gentles as he lays a hand on Legend’s bare shoulder. “We’ll find him, Bun, have a little faith in the traveler.”

The vet looks instants away from protesting, from shouting something harsh that he probably doesn’t mean. He’s worried, they all are, but Legend responds worst of all of them to injury or illness, and his protégé going missing doesn’t seem to be an exception.

It’s Time’s voice that cuts through the tension, face stern as he meets the veteran’s eyes.  “Rest. We’re no good to Hyrule if we can’t walk a straight line. Cub,” Wild’s ears prick forwards, attentive and eager for orders. The little soldier shows his training, even though he might not remember it; eager for a task to complete to distract from the tension, needing a job to focus on instead of his own spiraling thoughts. It draws a tiny smile to Warriors’ face as he watches. “Could you mix up something warm for everyone? We’ll eat and head to bed, Sky and I can take first watch, Warriors and Wild will have second,” Always best to put the two war heroes together on second watch, less chance of waking the others with their nightmares. “And Twilight and Four can take second.”

Again, Legend looks like he might protest, but their leader fixes him with a stern look. “Vet, try to sleep, please.”

Little chance of that, he muses, watching as the vet huffs and kicks at the dirt, Legend’s a worrier, even if he would never admit it, and if anyone’s going to be up all night long fussing and fidgeting, it’ll be him. What Warriors wouldn’t give to pull Ravio along just this once so that the merchant can calm their friend, he doesn’t know how he does it, but Ravio and Hyrule both have a magic touch when dealing with the ornery teenager.

“Help me get Four settled.” Sky nudges Legend’s shoulder gently. “But get dressed first.”

Tasks. That’s right, give everyone something to do to take their mind off of worrying and running wild with imaginings that will only fuel anxiety and nightmares.

“Wind,” The sailor turns to him with pinched brows, but the kid calms significantly at the sound of his captain voice. “How about you and Twilight gather some wood for a fire? Time, will you scout the borders with me while the others prep camp?”

Mentor and protégé both nod; taking the orders that come easily to his mind, the rancher pulling on his wolf pelt and melting into the forest with Wind at his heels, and Time grabbing his sword and shield and coming to follow at his side.

“Thanks for stepping up.” The older man hums, gaze strained but warm as he offers a small quirk of the lips. “You and Sky both.”

He claps the other man on the shoulder, thankful in part that Time hasn’t donned his heavy armor, thus allowing him to avoid destroying his knuckles. “That’s my job, Sprout. Besides, you had your hands full with a sad puppy.”

Time shakes his head with a soft chuckle, but Warriors counts it as a win.

If Legend was bad the night Hyrule went missing, he’s terrible when the portal sweeps over them midway through their attempts to find his protégé, and the vet’s full-on panicking once they’ve all stopped feeling woozy and sick. He’s not the only one; Wind is almost crying, the poor kids so overwhelmed, and Wild’s agitated behavior has spiked to a full blown manic as he investigates the land around them.

It’s all the three eldest heroes can do to try and keep the younger ones calm, and while Twilight tags along with Wild to scout the area, Time bundles up a shivering and sneezing Four into his arms with a soft hum, hands dragging through the smithy’s long hair carefully.

“Cold?” He calls over to the two.

Time nods. “Probably.”

They should have taken more care to dry off before starting their search.

While Sky attempts to calm Legend, simultaneously holding Wind close to himself and offering one of his Big Brother Hugs to the sailor, Warriors takes care to check their things over and make sure nothing has been left behind.

Wild’s things are nearly always in his slate. Twilight and Time have their bags on hand, but the younger ones and Sky all have plenty to ensure is still in order, and he makes extra sure to check that the potions and fairies they have are all in order and that the bottle haven’t broken during the tumbling of the switch.

There’s light again.

Hyrule whimpers as it floods over him, tucking himself closer to the base of the bottle as large hands rummage around.

His glass prison tilts and swings, but the traveler can only tumble around within, pained hisses escaping him as he fights nausea that he can only assume is from some kind of switch.

It’s Warriors’ blue gloved hand that has his bottle, and hope flutters softly alongside iridescent wings as Hyrule silently prays that the captain will open it. They’ve been looking for him, right? Maybe Warriors figured out his mistake! Maybe he realized that Hyrule isn’t your average healing fairy and has decided to let him go again!

Oh, please let it be so! He won’t burn the captain’s bug-net after all if the man will just let him out!!!

The bottle settles again, and a blue gloved hand withdraws, leaving Hyrule lying on the floor of his bottle, the glass walls and stuffy air of the bag pressing in around him as another miserable whimper escapes him.

The bag he’s trapped in is flipped closed, and he’s plunged again into darkness.

Someone get a fairy!” Legend shrieks, the vet’s panic over the last few hours heightened as his blood soaked hands press against the wound in Time’s side.

Twilight’s face is pale from where he sits supporting his mentor’s head, blood splattering his face and Time’s own as the older man chokes and wheezes, blood bubbling up from between his lips as Legend and Four both work like mad-men to try and tend their leader’s wounds.

It was a freak attack. No one saw it coming, not with how out of it they all were, and there was no time to stop it when the hinox had come rumbling through the forest with ‘blins scurrying about at its feet.

As per Legend and Warriors’ instructions, the heroes had worked to bring down the smaller enemies first, slashing and skewering while the black blood of their enemies gushed out over their blades and darting forms. The ‘blins are hard to beat, as are all the black blooded monsters, but it's become a struggle they’re accustomed too, and the heroes each dart in and out of the battle with the sort of grace of people that are accustomed to battling together and against dangers of all sort.

There’s a flaw in the system though, as they’re short one member, and while Legend and Hyrule usually fight back-to-back, with Four and Wind close at hand, the traveler is gone, and it throws off his battle partners considerably.

Time was only just in time to prevent Wind and Legend both from being axed, but the wound l=that gushes blood from his side now had been the price.

“Fairy!” Four shouts out again. “Now!”

He blinks awake, the blurriness of his vision fogging his mind too, but not so much that he doesn’t register the request this time. Gloved hands fumble with the buckles of his bag, and he’s sweating and breathing harshly with worry as he rips the straps aside and grabs the first bottle he sees. Red liquid glitters back at him and he huffs a grunt out, handing it off to Wind and digging back into his bag.

Thank Hylia he and Four had gone fairy hunting in the last world they’d been in, he’s only got the one fairy, but it should be enough.

Faint pink glimmers in his jar, no longer bright and flittering, but he has to pray it’ll be enough to save Time. His fingers scrabble for the cork, tears pricking at his eyes and burning as he does his best to force them back.

Help Time.

Calm the others.

Break down and cry later.

The cork pops free, and the fairy bumbles sluggishly towards the mouth of the jar.

“Help!” He wheezes, glancing at where Legend and Four have started preforming CPR as tears stream openly down Twilight’s face, the rancher clutching his mentor’s hand tight enough to break bones as he watches the two replacement healers attempt to preserve the ever-fading breath of the man in his arms.

The fairy's wings flit softly as it launches from the mouth of the jar. Its path is sluggish and crooked, but soft glimmering dust flutters from its wings all the same, sprinkling over the gushing wound and slowing the flow of blood. Four leans back to spit out some blood that’s bubbled up into his mouth while he was pushing air into their leader’s lungs, and a stuttering cough breaks the frenzied silence as Time’s eyes flicker. The fairy circles a second time, color returning to Time’s face as raw and tender flesh takes the place of an open wound. There’s no time for a third pass, however, as the fairy’s wings stutter to a halt, pink glow fading as it drops to the earth.

The others are too busy with Time to notice, Wind practically shoving the red potion down the man’s throat while Legend and Four start wrapping the wound in their leader’s side. Only Warriors has seen the fairy fall, and panic lances through his heart again.

Fairies aren’t supposed to collapse after healing someone; they’re supposed to fly away. But this fairy only weakly attempts to rise again, and while the other fuss over the lesser injuries while Legend scolds Time, the captain turns his attention to the fading pink light that blinks on and off in the tall grass.

The fairy shivers in his hands as he gently scoops it up, but when he raises it to eyes level to look at it properly, he freezes.

Tousled brown hair, drenched in sweat, flops over lidden golden eyes. Sure, there six tiny eyes to look at, but the light in them, though faded, is familiar. Same as the freckles that dust drawn cheeks and the tiny green and brown tunic, the shrunken boots the-

“Hyrule?” His voice is soft and disbelieving, too hushed to be heard by the others as they continue to worry over the old man. But the tiny figure in his hands stirs, ever so slightly, golden eyes blinking open as a weak smile meets his gaze.

“W-” The single sound escaped before the fairy stutters in his hands, lights blinking out for half of a second as Hyrule coughs and wheezes.

“Hang on!” Again, he’s digging in his bag, guilt and utter horror filling him as realization hits.

He put Hyrule in a bottle. A bottle that has sat in his bag for days. A bottle that is closed and sealed and-

The captain’s breath stutters as his fingers find the vial of green potion. Eyes glassy as he lifts it to the fading light in his hands, and while Hyrule sips slowly at the vial that’s raised to his lips, it’s all that the soldier can do to not break down crying right then and there.

He locked Hyrule in a bottle!

Tiny wings flutter in his hold as Hyrule pulls himself up to grasp the vial better, but the captain’s so lost in his head he can only stare, unseeing, as the fairy downs the rest of the vial, despite the thing being bigger than himself. The pink glow that signifies a healing fairy stutters back to a more radiant bloom, wings fluttering lightly as Hyrule shakes out his limbs with a wince.

“Thank you for freeing me.” The traveler’s tiny voice chirps, eyes pained but warm as they all stare up at him, and a single tear escapes from the captain at the words.

He doesn’t really think, just gently plucks the fairy up and settles him in a fold of his scarf before jumping to his feet and striding away into the forest. Sky’s voice calls after him, but he ignores it, instead heading for the nearest bunch of trees.

He’s not sure why he brought Hyrule along, but he also knows he couldn’t just leave the fairy hero back in the camp with no one to watch over him, so even as he fights back the tears that well in his eyes and the pain that blossoms in his heart and the sensation of too small- too tight- trapped- glass- trapped-

“Warriors!” The sharp peal of Hyrule’s voice cuts him out of his thoughts. He doesn’t know when he’d fallen to his knees or when his hands had risen up to clutch his hair. It hurts how hard he’s pulling, and it scares him that he hadn’t even felt it. “Hey!” The voice continues, Hyrule fluttering, still weak, only inches from his face, concern glimmering in glimmering golden eyes. “Hey listen! Wars? Can you hear me? Wars?”

“S-sorry.”

“Are you okay?” Hyrule dismissed the apology, and it draws a wet laugh from the captain as he watches the still stuttering wings beating with a speed to rival a hummingbird, Hyrule’s drawn frame looking even paler and thinner right now than it had when they’d first met him.

“I should be asking you that, kid.” He chokes out. He’d locked this kid in a bottle for days! He’d never known it and if Time hadn’t been dying, who knows how long it would have taken him to open it!

Hyrule’s smile is drawn as his wings stutter to a stop again, the traveler falling into Warriors’ lap as the captain starts forwards as if to catch him. Muttered words sound through the air and then Hyrule, properly sized but still pale and thin and painfully still is nestled against his chest. “I’m exhausted and hungry, but I’m out.” The kid breathes, eyes fluttering as a soft breeze ruffles his sweat soaked hair. “I’m out and that’s all I could ask for right now.”

He doesn’t even think as he wraps his arms around the kid, burying his nose in the damp curls and never minding the fact that they are rank with sweat and fear. It’s Hyrule, and he’s safe, and while Legend is probably going to murder him for trapping the poor kid for three whole days, at least he knows that the little one is alright.

“I’m so sorry.” His voice is muffled as he murmurs into the curls. “I know how bottles suck, if I’d’ve known it was you I would have never-” His voice hitches with a sob as he tugs the kid closer, weeping as Hyrule’s gentle hands weakly pat the only thing they can reach within his tight hug, his chest.

“You didn’t know.” Hyrule rasps softly. “But I’m burning your bug-net when I have the energy.”

“Please.” Comes the strangled sob. “Oh goddesses, Rule, I’m so sorry!” The gentle hands move up to wipe away his tears but it only brings them flooding down harder. “Goddesses, I locked you in a bottle! You could’ve been in there forever and I wouldn’t have known! I wouldn’t have checked! I would’ve-”

Left him there. His mind supplies. He would have left Hyrule in a glass bottle where no one could find him, where his shrieks and screams and pleas for help wouldn’t have made a difference to anything or anyone, not when the giant beings that trapped him were unaware or uncaring of his fate, not when he was there to serve a purpose, not when he was there to be used like an item and supply power to those who don’t have enough themselves.

A talisman. I trophy. A tool so that they could do what they needed.

He’s been there. He’s been in that bottle, used like a tool, supplying power to beings so much larger than himself. He’s been in that bottle and left to sit while his friends call his name, while Mask and Tune and Ravio and Impa and Marin and Midna and- and-

“Hush.” Hyrule coos softly, voice hoarse, no doubt from many a scream and wail in hopes of catching their attention, of gaining freedom. “Sush, you’re okay. I’m okay, we’re both okay and Time will be okay.” Rough pads scrape across his cheeks and gently rub his ears. “I got you Wars, I got you.”

And Hyrule does have him, holds him despite being the one in Warriors’ lap, until the others come wandering over and the traveler is scooped from his arms by Sky, who hugs the youngster with tears pouring down his face and voice caught in his throat.

His tears go unnoticed as they all head back, and the instant they reach camp Legend is springing forwards with worry glittering in his eyes as he takes the traveler’s face in his hands, disbelief and shock and hurt and hope and a thousand other emotions swarming in golden violet as Legend gently touches the traveler’s brow with his own, crystal tears leaking out slowly as a tiny smile pulls at the vet’s face.

It only lasts a minute, but then Sky and Legend are fussing over Hyrule, checking him over and clucking their tongues like a couple of mother cuckoos as Wild springs towards the fire, eyes flashing indignantly at the sight of Hyrule’s thin frame, something he’d worked so hard to mend.

“Oh, ‘Rulie, thank Din you’re back!” Legend sighs, cupping the kids face gently in his hands as golden eyes flicker up at the vet with a smile. “Wherever where you? We nearly lost our minds with worry!”

“He was trapped by a monster.” The words roll off of his tongue bitterly as Hyrule frowns up at him, but Legend and Sky are too busy fussing to notice and Hyrule isn’t given a chance to correct anything as they check again for any injuries.

Warriors draws away, leaving Hyrule wrapped in his scarf as he sits on the edge of camp, head aching from tears shed and mind blank in the wake of them. He’s too tired to join in the fuss and celebration as Time sits up again with a groan and Hyrule is spoon-fed soup by a murmuring Sky. He’s tired. He’s cold, and he feels utterly empty.

At least he’s not in a bottle.

The thought sends shivers through him as he curls in on himself, an outlier to the bustle of the camp, free now to descend into the madness of his broken mind.