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#tw broken bones
obae-me · 5 months
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The Brothers and their Nightmares
I was going to post this for Halloween, but things came up as they always do and I couldn't get to finishing it until now. Enjoy the late angst and spoops!
These are just dream scenarios I imagined the Brothers would suffer with, connected to both their Sin and the personal things they struggle with. Most of it is symbolic but could still be triggering for some.
TW: Hurt/No Comfort, Violent Images, Death, Blood, Angst, Nightmare Scenarios, Burning, Broken Bones, Disturbing Scenes that may upset readers. As Always, Read Safely.
Lucifer:
Displayed in a box. Preserved. Hung on a shelf for all to see. Trapped in a clear case with giant pins puncturing his wings and limbs in place. A perfect specimen.
The pain is immense. The torture almost unbearable, but this is where he belongs, right? To be shown off with Pride? To weather any struggles and pain to shine ever brighter in the light? A diamond only need be pressurized, cut, and polished before it's valuable.
Blurry faces of demons and angels and humans alike all pass him by, pointing at him and observing him with awe, sometimes fear, but nothing more. A living piece of art. He's searching for any familiarity amongst the crowd. The people he loves the most, the people he wants to shine for above all, the people he's suffering for!
Please! Give him a reason to endure this crucifixion! Prove to him that this is worth it! Let him know that he's enough! This prison must mean something! Don't say it was all for nothing! Everything he's worked for! Everything he's lamented over, toiled for! Look at him! Appreciate him!
But no one ever comes.
In the end he's left alone. The pins push deeper. The blood dripping from his eyes.
Just a caged butterfly.
--
Mammon:
Glistening palms. Shimmering faces. Gold as far as the eye can see. A perfect shining kingdom. Frozen lifeless subjects. This isn't what he wanted.
Come on, Belphie. Beel? What about you Asmo?... Satan?... No... Levi, please... Hells no... Lucifer!
Unmoving metal lips match each stiff jeweled eye. His hands... He- he had only touched them. That was all he did. Right? All he had done was love them. The Greed had become too much. In his ambition for glory, his corrupted embrace had tainted his family past the flesh. Motionless mannequins, that's all they were now. Cursed to shine till the end of time. His treasures that he had always craved.
Was this what he had wanted all along? No! He had created this all for his family! His friends! His loved ones! They were to all to gimmer with him! Not leave him alone! He did this. He always took things too far. Steal and cheat and lie until nothing remained! Rotten scum! Why couldn't he just listen? Why couldn't he just be better?! Give him a second chance... please. He can be better... Someone say something...
A destiny written in stone. Take. Even the lives of his brothers.
No matter how hard he tries, he only makes things worse.
Surrounded by the Fool's gold.
--
Levi:
Clanging, burning chains. There's a constant deafening buzzing in the air, the chatter of thousands of people. The voices rise and fall in rhythm, like the beating of war drums, or the increasing pace of his heart. He can't think, he can hardly see, and he can't breathe.
Millions of shining eyes stare down at his restrained body in the middle of a stadium. The blinding gazes singe his body, his skin melting off his bones. He's not the only one at the center of attention. Other people, other contestants are here to play the same game. Win, and get everything you ever dreamed. Lose, and be forced to burn with Envy and shame.
Every failed attempt of his makes the arena hotter. The infernal heat spills from the breaths of the crowd sharing his weaknesses to the world. They give his competitors the advantage, kicking him while he's down. The thrumming gets faster. It's not fair! He's trying so hard! Was he just doomed from the start? Was he born a failure? Hated by the universe since the moment of conception?! Is that why he's never good enough? Is that why all his brothers get to move on without him?!
His dreams always just out of reach. He's not good enough to be loved.
The bitterness eats him up from the inside.
Till he's melted into a pile of nothing.
--
Satan:
A mess of strings. The curtain is drawn. The show begins! It's the same routine day after day after day after day-- He can't take this any more!
He doesn't even understand this masquerade! The story he's forced to play out is gibberish, some fickle plot he can't even begin to fathom. Everything is foreign to him. The audience, the dance, his body, his Wrath. None of it is recognizable. And they chuckle like they know, like they enjoy his ignorance. Limbs are pulled in any direction the strings choose. Bones broken, lips sealed shut, he's pushed to the brink of oblivion once again.
But he worked so hard! Everything he's read, everything he learned, so he could stop feeling like this! He's not just a hollow doll, controlled by someone else's ambitions! He has thoughts, he has feelings! He might... not fully understand them yet, but he's trying! Tell him he's smart, that he's strong, that he's his own person! Let him stand on his own!
But only his mind is allowed to scream as the congregation watches.
A wicked dance until the strings are snipped. His opportunity to be independent. But instead, he falls into a lifeless heap on the floor.
Nothing without someone else.
The poor wooden plaything will never be real.
--
Asmo:
An endless winding labyrinth of mirrors. He runs, panting and crying as he tries to find his way through the illusions. Make it stop! Let him have peace!
The creatures are invisible to his normal eyes, only showing up in the reflections of the mirrors surrounding him. There's hundreds of them at least, crawling over each other to get to him. They don't even make a sound, silently scrambling towards him. An amalgamation of Lust. Each time they grab him, they take something precious from him. His fingernails, strands of his hair, his beautiful lips, the blush from his cheeks. They rip off of him as easily as tearing away a puzzle piece.
They're stripping him of his beauty bit by bit! How is he supposed to be loved like this?! If he's not gorgeous, than what is he? He has nothing left! This is all he has! He's not strong, or smart, or powerful! His physical charm is all he has! Please, leave him alone! He's supposed to be a jewel! That's all anyone ever sees him as!
He can't bear to look at himself. Every time he glances he's slightly different. Until he no longer recognizes the humanoid shell in the mirror. But he has no choice to keep looking if he wants to keep an eye on the monsters pursuing him.
A single fumble.
It's rather quick and painless as the souls each take what they want from him.
And leave him broken in shards on the floor.
--
Beel:
Screams echo from every direction. Buildings crumble as the earth shakes and the air hums. A moving living black cloud sweeps through the town. Where's his family? He has to help.
The sky a vast pool of crimson as the Celestial Sun and Demonic Moon cross paths and cast a torrent of blood down onto the merging realms. The ground beneath them all trembles, growling. It's Gluttonous. Every person he tries to save is always just too far away. They either get consumed from the plague of insects or fall into the gaping maws of the starving earth. And he still can't find his family.
Why? Why is this happening? Why isn't he strong enough to save anyone?! All the workouts, all the training, pushing his muscles stronger than any demon ever has, all so he can quit feeling so useless! He told himself he would be ready to take on anything! Even an entire army if he had to, just so he could save somebody for once! Lilith... Belphie… everyone... he's sorry... Sorry he's so weak. This is his fault.
The foundation beneath his feet begins to crumble.
His wings feel far too fragile to fly.
It makes sense that in the End of Days, no one would be there to save him.
He didn't deserve it.
--
Belphie:
There's something rotten in his chest. It feels like a pit in his soul, growing larger with every passing second. The sensation is agonizing.
It's something no one can see, but something he feels with every breath. It's very slowly stripping him of everything he is. His love, his memories, his desires... He needs to go find help. The House is laid out all wrong. Doors lead to where they shouldn't, hallways bend in the wrong directions. His house doesn't even feel like home anymore. Every step feels harder than it should. The supposedly easy task of getting help seeming more like an impossible feat. This rot is more than just Sloth. It takes what seems like hours to finally find his family. That's when he reaches out to them, trying to tell them what's wrong. But he can't speak for some reason.
Gestures and panicked grasping means nothing to his brothers. The desperation in his eyes goes ignored as most simply rub his head or push him off to the side, not taking him seriously in the least. But this hurts! He can't take the pain anymore! Someone help him! Don't push him away, don't treat it like a joke! Listen to him! Take what he has to say into consideration! He can't possibly speak over six other voices!
His efforts wasted, his energy depleted.
The rot ate away at his heart and left him numb.
And everyone walked away, leaving the boy who cried to cry alone.
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possumsarenice · 5 months
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!!CW!! Broken bones and blood
I was listening to an edgy song and remembered “puppeteer Gaggle” from @sm-baby’s Carnival AU, and and got an idea
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I’m planning on making a digital version that’s a bit more… intense but have this for now
Bonus:
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If you can’t make it out Gaggle is saying “I had a bad day, so blorbo had to suffer lol (dw I’ll write some fluff when he respawns)
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serickswrites · 3 months
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From a Whisper
Warnings: hostage situation, torture, captivity, emotional manipulation, self sacrifice, bruises, broken bones, blood, wounds, strangulation, choking, unconsciousness
"You look awful," Whumper whispered in Whumpee's ear. Their hot, wet breath tickled Whumpee. "Do you think Caretaker will recognize you?"
Whumpee opened their mouth to reply, but Whumper clamped their hand down on Whumpee's mouth. Whumpee swallowed their retort. There was no point in angering Whumper any further. It was hopeless.
"Look, here they come now," Whumper whispered as they tightened their grip on Whumpee's face. They began with their other hand, to press down on the deep bruise on Whumpee's collar bone. Whumpee wasn't entirely sure something wasn't broken, but with the pressure Whumper put on them, it would surely break. Their screams were muffled as Whumper kept their other hand on Whumpee's mouth.
"Let them go," Caretaker's voice carried across the room.
Whumpee looked up, their vision hazy with pain, their heart falling as they say Caretaker was really there. They had fallen for the bait.
"This is a hostage situation. If you're negotiating for their release, you've got to give me something," Whumper hissed, slowly drawing their hand away from Whumpee's mouth and putting their fingers on Whumpee's throat.
"Don't--" Whumpee started, but Whumper's fingers tightened, cutting off all air Whumpee had.
"Stop hurting them, Whumper. I am here like you asked. Let them go." Caretaker didn't look at Whumpee's face. They only had eyes for Whumper.
"Your presence is not enough, Caretaker. Give me something better. And I'd hurry if I were you, they don't look so good."
Blackness encroached the edge of Whumpee's vision. They sputtered and choked, but couldn't get a breath around Whumper's fingers. They shook their head. Caretaker couldn't give up anything for them.
"I will give you what you want, but you have to let them go first! Whumper!"
Whumper smiled and when they spoke, their voice sounded so far away even though Whumpee knew they were right next to Whumper. "I don't have to do anything. It is you who has to do something."
Whumpee gasped, their lungs burning for air. And still there was nothing. Their knees buckled, but Whumper kept them upright, the grip on their throat tightening.
"Jesus, Whumper! Stop! Stop!"
Whumpee wanted to reassure Caretaker. Wanted to ease the fear they heard in Caretaker's voice. Wanted to comfort Caretaker. But as the sounds began to fade and the darkness began to consume them, Whumpee realized there was nothing they could do to stop either Whumper or Caretaker.
And that was the last thought Whumpee had as they fell into the waiting darkness.
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bltzgore · 4 months
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Just thinking about whumper breaking whumpees legs and leaving them in a room. Whumpee has to drag themselves to the door and then can't even reach the handle to see if it's unlocked.
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mpekamitzii · 7 months
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Today's Horrors and today's Greenery
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And a very polite cat that kept me company while i drew!!
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house-md-imagines · 1 month
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imagine y/n taking house’s motorcycle for a spin
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🏍️ vrooom !
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painsandconfusion · 18 days
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You know that tiktok thing where people wrap spaghetti in a kitchen towel and bend it across the countertop and s l i d e it so the spaghetti snaps into a million little pieces?
That but with tiny whumpee.
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whumpdrivethru · 9 months
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Hey.. uhh.. can I get an order of enemy soldier finding a civilian who's injured and takes pity on them? Civilian is probably shot or has a broken bone and soldier provides basic first aid and comforts them and stuff. Maybe even a side of trying to keep civilian awake?? It can end with whatever you want :3
Hi there! Let’s get that started for you! Thanks for choosing the Whump Drive Thru!
Soldier marched down the streets of the ruined city. They were meant to be looking for survivors. Gunfire rang out behind them, sounded like one of their fellow soldiers had found a survivor. Soldier shuddered and heard a whimper and the sound of rubble shifting. Soldier whipped around, aiming their rifle at the noise. They stared into the frightened eyes of a civilian.
“P-please,” they begged.
Soldier held their rifle tighter, despite their shaking hands. Their finger hovered over the trigger, but they couldn’t bring themselves to squeeze. Another gunshot in the distance. Another survivor. Soldier cursed and slung their rifle over their shoulder. They knelt down next to the civilian and started pulling the rubble off of them. They saw their eyes start to flicker in and out of focus. Their lids started to slip closed.
“Hey,” Soldier said, slapping them, “none of that. Talk to me. What’s your name?”
“C-Civilian,” they said tearfully.
“Keep talking,” Soldier said as they worked, “are you hurt?”
“Yes,” Civilian said.
“Where?”
Soldier got their answer when they removed the last piece of rubble trapping Civilian. Their leg was bent at an unsightly angle. Soldier winced at the sight.
“I’m gonna pick you up now,” Soldier said, “it isn’t safe here.”
Soldier heaved Civilian up into a bridal carry. Civilian screamed.
“Shush!” Soldier hissed, “I know it hurts, but you can’t make noise.”
Soldier laid Civilian down on the bed. They didn’t know whose house this was, but they obviously didn’t need it anymore. Half of the roof was blown off and it was a wonder the bedroom was intact at all. Fortunately, this part of the city had already been scoured by Soldier’s comrades. No one would be coming back here anytime soon.
Soldier pulled out a first-aid kit from their pack.
“I need to set your leg,” Soldier said.
“Please, no-”
“I know what I’m doing. I was in medical school before the war. Please, it needs to be treated.”
Civilian looked at Soldier with pleading eyes, then nodded. Soldier worked quickly, trying to ignore Civilian’s screams. Once their leg was in the splint, Soldier sat back and breathed a sigh of relief.
“There,” they said, “that will keep it still. You need to see a proper doctor, but this will do for now.”
Civilian sniffled and nodded.
“Thank you,” Civilian said.
Soldier sighed again.
“I’ll take you to the train station in the morning. We can only go so far on foot.”
“Train station? I don’t understand-”
“We need to get you to a doctor. The nearest town is several miles away.”
“But why are you helping me?”
Soldier smiled ruefully.
“I don't agree with killing civilians. Besides, I’ve just betrayed my country for you. Seems a pity to abandon you now.”
Thanks again for choosing the Whump Drive Thru, you have been served by Huffle!
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chirrups · 2 years
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concept art for an au where vampire mumbo and steampunk scar die then get stuck together for the multiverse’s most grian-less limbo roadtrip 
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whumpinthepot · 2 months
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@febuwhump 2024
Day 13. “You weren’t supposed to get hurt”
Prank goes too far, maybe the victim breaks their ankle when stepping into a pitfall the prankers built, or starts to have a heart attack when jump scared, or their pants set on fire when stomping out a flaming bag of you know what at their doorstep and they get third degree burns.
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whumpflash · 10 months
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Umbra: Wasted Magic
cw: broken bones, bad healing
previous ///// masterlist
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The healer came to his cell after the mockery of a trial, and even through his agony, Cerus could read the distasteful expression on her face. Oh what an insult, to be tasked with healing a fallen ruler. Years ago, before the revolts, it would've been considered an honor.
The woman crouched beside him, poking at a shattered shin with a none-too-gentle hand, and Cerus let out a choked cry of pain, biting down on the gag no one had bothered to remove. Despite the pain caused by the shifting bones in his leg, he did his best to hold still. The guards had returned him to the spread-eagled position on the cell floor after the trial, and the slightest shift caused the shackles to pull at his broken hands; made even worse by the raw, newly tattooed skin; the accursed seals of the priests.
He'd felt the disconnect from his magic when he woke in the cell, muddled underneath the agony radiating from his limbs, but undeniably there. It was like losing a sense; like waking up suddenly unable to smell or taste, and that loss had caused reality to fully sink in. 
He'd lost. His subjects had risen against him, destroyed the armies he'd commanded, and dethroned him. Any hope of reclaiming power had been snuffed with the severing of his magic, and he wouldn't delude himself with the idea that any of his subjects had any loyalty to him. They'd made that clear with the rebellion.
He was nothing now. A king no more, a mage no more. Deemed unworthy to even die.
The faint glow of healing magic began to spread from the healer's fingers and seep into his leg, and he groaned as he felt the shards of bone begin to reform. The feeling it brought was something almost like relief, but even when she removed her hand, the healing complete, a certain wrongness remained.
She repeated the process with his other leg, then each hand, quickly and without care. The worst of the pain dissolved away, but an odd ache was left behind, and when he flexed his fingers, testing them, pain rippled up the joints like a crack of lightning.
Even were the gag not present, Cerus would not have dared to speak of it. It was a miracle they'd sent a healer his way at all, now that the trial was over, but he recalled with a bitter certainty that the traitors who'd appointed themselves as the new Council had sentenced him to service. The healing wasn't given in the name of mercy, but utility. 
The healer stepped back, rapping her knuckles on the heavy door that sealed the cell. A guard answered her summons promptly, and they exchanged words Cerus couldn't quite focus on.
His attention snapped to the armored figure as they stepped inside, taking a key to the chains that held him. Memories hit him like blows, reminding him what had happened the last time his enemies had been kind enough to free him from his shackles.
Strike me down! Will you?
As soon as he was able, Cerus pulled his limbs into his chest, tucking his head into his arms, waiting for the first taunt, the first strike.
Instead, the guard standing over him let out a bawdy laugh.
"Look at him! Sniveling little rat of a man. Ain't even touched him and he's trembling."
The healer seemed less amused, her tone cool and tight. "Do what you need to and chain him back up. I don't want to be in here any longer than I have to."
Cerus wanted to curse them both, but held his tongue, the echoing crunch of his own bones ringing in his ears like a warning. The guard could break him however they wanted and the healer could put him back together like nothing happened.
He tried not to flinch when the guard's boot gave him a nudge. Their short bark of laughter told him he was unsuccessful.
"Alright, shadow rat. On your feet."
They wanted him to stand? Why? Likely only so they could strike him down again and laugh at the pain they caused.
But if he hesitated, they could crush his legs and then make him stand on them anyway. He had no delusions about the depths of the cruelties he could be made to suffer here. These people had no concept of mercy; not for him.
Cerus rolled onto his stomach with a soft hiss, his movement pulling at still-open wounds, jostling still-cracked ribs. He tucked his hands under his chest and gave a tentative push, crumpling back to the ground as pain spiked through the bones of his badly-healed fingers.
"Quit wasting my time. Up." The guard sounded more impatient than amused now. It wouldn't be long before his shouts were punctuated by violence, Cerus knew.
He tried again, getting a knee under him for better support, biting back a yelp as pain crackled through his hands like a spitting fire. Still, he pressed on, encouraged by the fear that whispered what would happen if he didn't.
His legs trembled under his weight, his shins and ankles throbbing like they'd had nails driven into them.
When was the last time he'd stood unassisted? The last time he'd been free of his chains and upright? He did not know, but the weakness in his body insisted it had been ages.
"Take a step forward," the guard said. "Walk to the wall."
Cerus complied. The first step, the first shifting of barely-healed bone, nearly sent him to his knees, but he managed to stay upright, panting heavily as he slowly, slowly crossed the room.
"Bit slow, ain't he? Maybe a little more of your magic," the guard said, their eyes on the sullen healer.
"I won't waste my magic on the likes of him."
The guard made a noise that said they agreed, but continued anyway. "He's s'posed to be able to work. Useless to the whole rebuilding thing if he can't even walk."
The healer let out an irritated sigh. "Very well."
Cerus used the wall to guide himself back to the floor, watching this scornful woman as her eyes followed him hatefully. No matter. He could bear it. He'd borne the hatred of countless others, even before his fall.
"You'll need to chain him," she said.
"Why's that?" the guard murmured, even as they reached for Cerus, seizing him by his hair before he could even try to crawl away. The pain in his skull was immediate, but it was outshone by the sudden chill that washed over him as he caught sight of the woman's face.
Of the small, cold smile she wasn't trying to conceal.
"Before I can try again, you'll need to rebreak his legs."
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@whumpwillow @rabbitdrabbles @kixngiggles @honeycollectswhump @chiswhumpcorner @whatwhumpcomments , @dont-look-me-in-the-eye , @turn-the-tables-on-them , @pigeonwhumps , @itsmyworld23 , @andromeda-liske , @starlit-hopes-and-dreams , @haro-whumps , @kira-the-whump-enthusiast , @whumpedydump ,
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obae-me · 1 year
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Hi, are you taking requests? I really like your one-shots, they really help me in learning how to write emotions. So, what about the Demon Brothers getting injured for some reason (either because Lucifer punished them, or they were attacked by some creature, got into a fight, etc.), and MC notices it, even with the Demons best attempt to hide it, and decide to take care of the injuries. At first the boys are embarrassed and reluctant to accept their help, but quickly gave up and let MC take care of them. 👉👈
Anon...this is a beautiful request. I love love love hurt/comfort, especially whump tropes like these. I will absolutely do this. 100% I will do this, no questions asked. 
Although I owe you an apology because...this is another instance of mine where I take things...way too far...I should’ve known when I was almost 6000 words deep and had only briefly gone over three brothers, that I was in over my head once again...so...this is a big one...really big...well maybe not that big by fic standards, I don’t really know what the average fic holds...Anyways, enjoy! 
Rest Easy. I’m Here.
Word Count: 16,038
Warnings: Blood, Broken Bones, Bruises, Vomiting, Cuts, Concussions, Injury, Medication Use. A lot of general hurt for this hurt/comfort. 
(Please pay no mind to the fact that all these little picture banners are cropped slightly different sizes, consistency was never my strong suit.)
As Always, Read Safely! Please Enjoy! 
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“Someone get Asmo!” 
“Satan, look out!” 
“My lord, Mammon can't dodge forever. He’s running out of stamina.” 
“Beel, don’t be stupid! Don’t be a hero, ya idiot! Beel!” 
“Belphie, take him away!” 
“Levi!” 
“Diavolo…we’re becoming overwhelmed, you need to leave.” 
“Absolutely not.” 
“You are royalty, and as such, I have to – Diavolo, move!” 
“Lucifer!” 
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“They’ve been gone for a while…” You put down your D.D.D., placing it in your lap, a sigh coming from your chest as you stared at the front door to the House of Lamentation. How long had you waited here now, a few hours? Nearly felt like days. Every taunting tick of the clock twisted a new knot in your stomach. You knew they could take care of themselves, obviously they could. Their Deadly Sin titles weren’t just for show. There was probably very little they couldn’t handle, especially when they were all together…but…then why were they still not home? The moon might be ever-constant, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t extremely late. It was beginning to stretch into the early hours of the day now. 
They all had been suddenly called to meet Diavolo, Lucifer’s phone ringing at dinner, the prince summoning them immediately. Plates half-empty, they left. Now their dinner had gone cold…and so had the House. You couldn’t help but worry. It wasn’t too often all of them were needed at once, leaving you alone in this large and quiet mansion. None of them had answered your messages either, something else that was rather uncommon. Levi surely had his phone on him at all times, and Lucifer was pretty swift in responding to you as well, and despite Mammon’s fervent denial, he always leapt at his phone whenever you messaged him. But no, nothing. Just silence…Even the nocturnal critters outside appeared to abandon you, unable to hear their nightly cries. 
As your head tilted back, resting against the wall of the entrance-hall, you nearly drifted off. You had been sitting there for quite a while after all. If you did fall asleep, it made time warp, only feeling like a second, or perhaps it had just been rather perfect timing. The doors swung open, cold night air rushing gusting inside, the wind outside whistling as seven demons stumbled into the house. You scrambled to your feet, almost dropping your D.D.D. you’d left in your lap. Luckily you managed to catch it, shoving it in your pocket. “Welcome back!” Suddenly, the tenseness in your shoulders seemed to lift, the lungs in your chest not as tight. You could breathe easy now. 
They all looked tired, but quickly grinned as they noticed you...well a few of them did at least…actually only two of them. The others stuck to the shadows. “We’re back!” Asmo raised his arms in celebration, sounding much like normal to you, and yet…something felt…off. Maybe he was just exhausted, they had been out for hours at this point. 
“Sorry...we…took so long,” Satan spoke up, speaking at a strangely slow pace. Levi, not even looking at you, scrambled up the stairs to his room before he could speak. The demon of Wrath held his arms behind his back, a stance he hardly ever took, using his body to block off your view of Envy. “We got…caught up…in Student Council work.” 
“You did not need to wait for us,” Lucifer tilted his head…but even he seemed to not look at you quite as directly as he usually did. There was an odd air about him, a look in his eyes like he just remembered something he had forgotten. “It is late for us all. Let’s…get…” His voice got quieter and softer with each word. It seemed as if he was losing the energy to even form words, his head drooping ever so slightly. “...Some rest. You as well,” he addressed you, using an arm to usher his other brothers in the direction towards their rooms, some of them lowering their head from you strangely, some of them supporting the others up the stairs. 
None of them said anything else, and before you could even appreciate them all being home…they were gone. 
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You had hoped the next morning, at breakfast, that things would return to normal. After sleeping it off, certainly the weirdness you had felt in the air would dissipate. Unfortunately…that did not seem to be the case. Most of the brothers didn’t even show up to breakfast. The only ones to arrive were Beel, Asmo, and Satan. Everyone else was gone. Asmo, with a smile over his face, tried to assure you all was well. “They’re probably still sleeping! Last night was a long night after all!” 
You raised an eyebrow, a little offended that they were clearly keeping something from you, but more worried than anything. “None of you are wearing your uniforms today,” you noticed, jutting the end of your utensil towards Satan and his common clothes, finding it difficult to eat your morning meal. 
Beel, after shoving a plateful in his mouth, somehow more voracious than usual, licked his lips and nodded his head at you comfortingly. “Diavolo gave us the day off.” 
“You can still head to classes though,” Satan chimed in. You noticed he was only using one arm to eat breakfast today. It was an odd detail to notice, but one you spotted nonetheless as he struggled to cut this morning’s pancakes. He always used a knife and a fork like a proper person, always getting irritated when someone else like Mammon would wedge the fork back-and-forth, tearing off the pieces and shoving it into his mouth. Now Satan was doing the very thing he ridiculed others for. 
Suddenly settling your utensils down, you straightened your back. “I think I’ll stay home too.” 
Each of the brothers looked at each other, flickering secret messages between them with only their eyes. Satan shifted uncomfortably in his seat, subtly wincing as he shrugged his shoulders. The next thing he said was the final nail in the coffin. Hell had frozen over today apparently. Either that or something was terribly, dreadfully wrong. “I don’t think Lucifer would like that very much.” 
“You never care what Lucifer thinks!” You suddenly shouted, a sick feeling in your stomach, your insides doing flips with anxiety. “What’s wrong with you all?” 
Apparently you surprised them all with your outburst more than you intended to. Beel suddenly started coughing, bending over in his seat. You stood up quickly, afraid he had started to choke, but Asmo beat you, making it to his little brother’s side in a rush. “Breathe, Beel, breathe…Eat slower, you can’t handle going too fast right now.” You could hear the faint wheeze in Beel’s voice, the pain in his lungs obvious, his arms hugging his own body. And yet, they still wouldn’t tell you. Not even when it was so abhorrently obvious that something had happened last night. The brother’s voices sounded muffled to your ears now, the stress fogging your senses. You faintly recalled Satan going up to take Beel to his room, Asmo the only one left. The demon of Lust cleared up the plates, doing so hoping you wouldn’t notice the way he gripped the tops of the chairs, guiding himself back to the kitchen with a hand pressed against the wall, limping. 
You had intended to remain steadfast in your stubbornness. If they weren’t going to go to classes, why should you? After all, you had stayed up almost all night, restless with worry. However, any dreams you had of staying home were dashed as the haunting doorbell to the House rang. None of the brothers were likely to answer it, and if it was a package or something of that nature, someone should probably grab it for them. Although, you knew well in the back of your mind that hardly any mail was delivered this early in the day. The idea of a package was better than more bad-news, you figured. You shuffled your way out of the dining room, rather downtrodden, opening the front door without preparing yourself to look a little less depressed. 
“MC?” You weren’t expecting to hear your name spoken by a voice so familiar. Taking a few blinks, you brought yourself out of the little slump you were in. “Is everything alright?” Simeon frowned, taking another step closer to the entrance. 
You had to quickly grin, although you knew it came off rather weak. “Just didn’t sleep a lot last night. What are you doing here?” 
A little figure jumped out from behind Simeon, almost like it was meant to surprise you. “We’re here to go to RAD together!” Luke beamed. He seemed so pleased, absolutely beside himself with joy at even just this simple thing. How did he never realize why everyone called him cute? 
The third figure outside nodded, waving at you in greeting. “Imagine our surprise when, out of the blue, all of us receive a text from Lucifer of all people, telling us to bring you to RAD.” Solomon looked quite pleased with himself. Although, that only made you feel warier. So none of them knew what was going on either? 
Simeon was the only one who seemed to share your confusion. “It’s not everyday that he asks for favors.” 
“It didn’t seem like a favor to me,” Luke scowled, unfortunately coming off more like a pout than anything. He folded his arms. “It was practically an order.” 
“Regardless of the reason,” Solomon waved his hand through the air, moving away from the brothers as the topic at hand. “Are you all ready to go?” He looked at you with a glint in his eye. That feeling in your gut still remained, but was slightly lessened. At the very least, the members of Purgatory Hall were as they usually were. Any form of normality you could get was gladly accepted. You nodded, taking a step forward and shutting the door of the House behind you. 
Simeon outstretched a hand towards you, perhaps sensing that you were feeling a bit down. You took it, feeling the warmth in his palms spread over you like a comforting blanket. Was it angelic magic or just simply his presence that calmed you so? “Don’t worry,” the angel attempted to assuage your anxiety. “If it were something threatening, Diavolo would certainly tell you about it, wouldn’t he?” 
Based on his track record…not really. Not as quickly as you would like him to anyway. Mysteries and riddles and royal duty be damned. You’d have to talk to the prince. 
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You were one second away from knocking on the door to the student council office before it opened for you. Barbatos welcomed you with a calming grin, lowering his head in a little respectful bow as you stepped into the room. “We’ve been expecting you.” As the door shut behind you, you felt your shoulder gently touched by the butler’s gloved hand. He wasn’t often one to express emotion, or perhaps you’d gotten to know him well enough to tell that the slight lift to his brows was one of sympathy. “I’ve already prepared some tea as well as Devarian Cream Eclairs.” In a blink, he was over by a little table, pulling a seat out for you as Diavolo remained seated on the other side, waving you over with a grin, although even from here you could notice that his usual dazzling and thrilled smile was subdued. 
“You knew I was coming?” You took a few tentative steps before settling yourself in the chair, your hands rubbing themselves anxiously in your lap. 
Diavolo was the one who spoke up this time, nodding a bit as the corners of his mouth tugged downwards. “If I know my student council, you probably have many questions regarding last night, don’t you?” 
Your mouth felt a bit dry, and so you picked up the little teacup, smelling the sweet aroma before taking a little sip. “They didn’t tell me anything…” The teacup made a gentle noise as it settled back down on the table. You turned your head up at the prince, a pleading look in your eyes. You may not have had a pact with him and he might’ve been royalty while you were just a human, but you were hoping that the person sitting in front of you was not just the Demon Lord but Diavolo, your, dare you say, friend. Surely, he would answer your honest question. “Will you tell me what happened?” 
There was a flicker of guilt in his eyes as he spoke, and while Barbatos was naturally quiet, there was an eerie sort of silence about him, one that was abnormally noticeable. Diavolo paused but then explained everything to you. Apparently, every few millennia, an ancient Devildom Beast rises from its deep hibernation to feast. Left unchecked, it can go on a rampage, causing needless destruction and chaos. It typically follows a very regular schedule, the brothers and Diavolo able to create a plan and barrier to keep the monster away from civilization. However, without any warning, it suddenly arose, centuries early. No one could figure out why, and deep in your soul you wondered if this was somehow your fault. Strange things always happened when you were around, after all. Although, you knew it was rather silly to blame yourself for something like this. “Without any preparation, we were all forced to subdue it ourselves…and refusing it to feed naturally made it quite aggressive. There were…casualties…Forgive me.” 
Barbatos finally took a breath, shuffling a little closer to the prince. “Young Master–” 
“I will take the blame for this,” Diavolo, despite the guilt, raised his head proudly. “It was under my orders that this happened. And it was because I was there that–” He cut himself off as the words caught in his throat, something the prince was not known for. He couldn’t seem to finish his statement, but you could connect the dots. Here he was, hardly a hair out of place like usual. He had been protected. You knew the others, especially Lucifer, would do whatever it took to keep Diavolo safe. Before you really knew you were doing it, your body urged itself out of your seat, wrapping your arms against Diavolo’s body. You heard Barbatos take a sharp intake of air before letting it out in a gentle sigh. Normally, such actions like these towards the prince would’ve been unheard of, perhaps punishable even. You didn’t often like to think you were being given special treatment, but in this case, you were glad you were able to do something like give Diavolo this little embrace. You felt him chuckle, the power of his lungs rattling your ribs. He took your arms and lowered them, the smile back on his face, although perhaps a bit embarrassed that someone such as he needed an action as common as a hug to make him feel better. “I was hoping you would come see me, seeing as I have a favor to ask of you.” 
“A favor?” 
With a little nod, he glanced at Barbatos who helped you back to your seat, the butler’s hand settled on the back of your neck for just a moment, his subtle version of a thank-you. The prince cleared his throat, looking at you seriously. “I’d like you to help care for the brothers till they are back in good health. Knowing them, they’ll hide away from any of us till they are back to normal. Lucifer might be Pride, but it seems as if the stubbornness runs through all their veins. But you…they have a soft spot for you, even Lucifer.” There was a flicker of jealousy behind Diavolo’s eyes. Yes, they were close, but Lucifer’s respect would always hinge that tiny social barrier between them. “Besides, they might heal quicker with you by their side, and that’s beneficial for everyone involved. I know…it might be a lot to ask, but would you be willing to do this for me?” 
You couldn’t help but chuckle a little. “After everything we’ve all already gone through, do you even need to ask?” How many times had you been the one to clean up a mess caused by some magical or mischievous misfortune? And almost always, you were the only one unaffected by it all, always waiting for the others to return to normal. “I had planned on doing that anyway.” 
He closed his eyes as he sighed. “I had a feeling, but I never like to assume. I’m glad, though... If there’s anything Barbatos and I can do to assist you, don’t hesitate to ask.” 
“There is one thing,” you brought up, making the prince raise an eyebrow. “Can Barbatos make me a portal home?” Learning all this information suddenly made you feel antsy, practically itching to be back in the House’s familiar halls. “I feel like I’ve already been away from them long enough. I want to be there for them now.” 
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Out of everyone, you figured Asmo would be the least likely to turn you away. He loved being pampered, and he seemed perhaps the most normal of the bunch. Besides, he might be willing to shed some more light on what happened to the others…and the severity of their injuries. You tried not to let the silence of the house overwhelm you as you prepared a little tray to take to Asmo. You filled it with lots of helpful but adorable things. A little yogurt cup with glistening and juicy fruits, an herbal tea that Barbatos recommended that was a rosy pink, a little vial of Devildom Medicine that you put a few stickers on in an attempt to make it ‘aesthetic’, and a few other things you just grabbed since you had no idea what Asmo was going through. Tray settled against your hip, you knocked on Asmo’s door. 
There was silence for a moment, but then a whine on the other end. “Whaaat? I’m trying to recover as much as you all are too, you know! Don’t make me get up.” 
It was clear to you that he assumed you were one of his brothers. You suddenly showing up might not be as thrilling of a surprise as you had thought it would be. “I can come in if you’d like.” 
Clattering could be suddenly heard from inside, a whimper of pain was made before the door swung open vivaciously, Asmo, wearing a silky nightgown, was leaning against the doorframe with one leg tucked behind the other. “MC, hun! What’re you doing home?” His eyes flashed down to the tray you were carrying. His smile faded, his bottom lip jutting out in a small pout. “Ah…Who told you?” 
“Diavolo.” You snuck past him in his room, settling the tray on the end of his bed. “He didn’t tell me absolutely everything though.” You suddenly turned around a hand on your hip. “What’s wrong with you? Out with it?” I sound too much like Lucifer, you thought to yourself. 
Much like you were expecting, Asmo gave in almost instantly, his eyes turning glossy with tears. He shut the door and moved away from the doorframe, one of his feet curled away from the ground. As you looked at his left leg, you noticed that from the knee all the way down, Asmo’s skin was covered in bruises, the tone to his complexion a different blend of purple, yellow, black, and even red. It was swollen. “It hurts…” The little crack in his voice broke your heart. You came over to him, offering your support as he settled an arm around your shoulders. You helped him limp back into bed, fluffing up the pillows behind his neck. 
“Why didn’t any of you tell me?” You shook your head a bit, looking down with a mixture of concern and disappointment. 
“And have you look at me this way?” A tear slid from the corner of his eye. You unconsciously brushed it away, his face leaning into your touch. “Just look at it…it’s hideous! I never wanted you to ever see me this way…” 
“Asmo…injuries happen.” You traced little hearts into his shoulder before you stood, getting to work. Grabbing some throw pillows from various pieces of furniture, you brought them next to his injured leg. “Can you lift it?” With a wince, he grabbed at his left thigh, lifting up his leg enough for you to place the pillows under. With a little flourish, you covered him with a blanket. “I brought you medicine. Barbatos said this kind should help with the pain. I also made you a little snack. You need to be well fed and rested. Do you want me to grab you some ice-packs?” 
The ever-usual confident Asmo appeared a bit meek at the treatment. “Yes…please. I tried going back downstairs for them but…” 
“No more getting out of bed,” you demanded. “You’ll just make it worse.” With a few steps, you moved over to the nightstand, grabbing the tray and settling it right next to Asmo. One of your hands brushed Asmo’s hair from his face. “I’ll be right back.” Some pink flared in his cheeks at your stern orders, but he didn’t stop you from rushing downstairs to try to find something to ice his leg with. Unfortunately, if the House did have ice-packs, they weren’t in the freezer. So, desperate measures called for frozen vegetables. You found a little hand towel in the kitchen, wrapping the pack up in that before heading back upstairs. You were pleased to find that he was in the middle of eating his snack with a little grin on his face. 
“MC…you’re so precious,” he praised you, almost purring at the mere sight of you. “You’ll be my nurse till I’m all better, right?” It was his best attempt at sounding like usual, but even the flirtatiousness of it was muted. He simply sounded exhausted. He settled down the little bowl as his arms outstretched towards you, waiting for you to come over and hug him. You placed yourself against his hip on the bed, letting him wrap his arms around you. His nose settled against the base of your neck, practically absorbing your affection as additional sustenance. Who knows? Maybe it did work that way for demons. Maybe they quite literally sucked the life out of you. Maybe that’s why Diavolo seemed to think they’d heal faster with you around. Little parasites…You parted from him after a while, holding the cold pack in your hands. 
“I’m going to place this on you. Are you ready?” You waited till he nodded before you settled the weight on his injured leg, covering his ankle and the better part of his calf. He winced, but after a minute, seemed a bit more relieved. You took this moment to curl up at his side, stroking his hair, watching the more strained and exhausted lines in his face fade. “Will you tell me more about what happened? I want to take care of all of you the best that I can, but I can’t do that if I don’t know anything.” 
“It all happened so fast…” He tried to snuggle into you without moving too much. “We were all just fighting to calm it down, but I got knocked out of the air and…it trampled my leg. I don’t remember the last time I felt so much pain. But, even so, I think I got away the luckiest…” Your poor boys…You knew that…as a human, you would’ve been little to no help in such a situation like that anyway, but still, you felt a little guilty that you weren’t there in the moment to try to help them. “I don’t know what happened to everyone, it’s still all a blur. I blacked out for a bit…but I think Satan has a broken arm. Maybe he knows more than I do.” 
“Really?” Your gasp almost sounded breathless. “What do demons usually do for broken bones?” 
Asmo slowly shook his head. “We don’t need much. I’m sure he’s already got it wrapped up. It should only take a few days to go back to normal. He’s probably upset that he can’t read his books very well, though.” After talking for so long, he whined a bit, trying to pull you closer. “It’s so cold…” 
You moved your arm to shift the ice-pack to a different part of his injured leg, letting him hold you so he could absorb your body warmth. “You should take that medicine soon and then get some rest,” you encouraged. “Sleep is often the most important step to recovery.” Asmo simply made a little whine, vocalizing his disappointment but unable to disagree. At the risk of never being able to leave his room again, you planted a gentle kiss on his forehead. “I’ll have my D.D.D. on me, so if you need anything else, just call or message me.” You tucked the blanket tighter around him, guiding his arms away from you and down to the bed. Despite him usually distressing over his hair, he smiled when a few of your fingers brushed through the strands atop his head, his eyelids flickering, like even such a simple gesture was coaxing him to rest. “Meds then beds, Asmo,” you repeated once more, watching him blush at the childish-sounding mantra. You got to your feet, making sure the lights in the room were dim. “I’ll be back to check on you later…Feel better.” 
You watched him blow you a kiss before you left, heading in the direction of Satan’s room. 
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Satan would be a risky one. You had no way of knowing if his injuries would keep him from being angry or if they would make him even angrier. Not to mention he’s not the most vulnerable of the brothers. He had already tried to hide his broken arm from you –although rather poorly. However, at breakfast, he did seem rather calm about everything. Even breaking character and telling you to go to classes just to keep Lucifer in a good mood. Definitely not like Satan. Which either meant Wrath’s injuries were bothering him so much, he couldn’t even be angry towards Lucifer…or…what if Lucifer had been hurt enough to…No. He didn’t seem that bad when he addressed you in the entrance hall. Lucifer had almost seemed normal. There was no way Satan would worry about his older brother over mild wounds. 
Ah, but thinking about this was keeping you from what you should actually be doing, which was action! You might’ve been stalling a little bit, worried that as soon as you knocked on Satan’s door, his demon form would rush through. Fortune favors the bold, you recited in your head, hoping it would work as a spell of sorts. You knocked on Satan’s door, only just now realizing that you didn’t prepare or bring anything with you like you had done for Asmo. Although, maybe it was for the best. If you had come in with armfuls of stuff you thought he would need, trying to fuss over him, it would probably irritate him. He’d just have to tell you what he needed himself. 
There was no answer. Should you head in yourself?...No, that might be a death sentence. Should you announce yourself? But then would he even open the door if he knew it was you? He’d probably just shout back ‘there’s nothing to worry about’ or even ‘do you think I’m incapable of taking care of myself’. So you knocked once more, remaining quiet, trying to strain your ears to see if you could hear even just the faintest of pages moving. Of course, just as you were pressing your ear up against the door, the entire thing rattled. Even the doorframe shuddered. “Go away!” 
Well…so much for your hopes of him not being angry. What did you really expect? His title was Wrath. You shuffled on your feet for a moment, lingering by the door. Knocking a third time might set him off…maybe you should say it was you right as you opened the door. Or maybe–
“I can still hear you!” The voice in his chest rumbled, a strong aura approaching rapidly from the other side. “I swear to Diavolo, whoever it is better be gone in five seconds before I teach you what it means to –” The door opened so violently, the air almost sucked you forward. 
You jumped back, already giving your apologies. “Don’t be mad! I came back home because I heard what happened, and I already checked on Asmo and he told me that you got hurt and that I should check on you, and –” 
“MC?” The aura of fury mostly faded, the door partially shutting again as you assumed Satan was trying to hide the injured arm behind the wood. “What’re you doing at home? We told you to go to classes!” 
“I said don’t be mad!” 
Satan took a deep breath, a little glare staring at you from through the crack in the open door. “You said that Asmo told you what happened?” Well, technically Diavolo was the first one to tell you, Asmo giving more details but…now was not the time to argue over semantics. “And he told you to come check on me?” You nodded, thinking naively that maybe Satan would be touched that his brother was concerned about him. Instead, a darkness clouded his eyes, the door opening once more, only this time, Satan stormed out, fully intent on marching down the hall, probably to give Asmo his personal feelings on the matter. 
Without thinking about it, you grabbed the back of his shirt, pulling on it with as much strength as a human could muster. “Stop! He’s hurt enough already! I just put him to bed! If you want someone to be mad at, be mad at me!” 
Satan’s feet stopped, of his own free will obviously, seeing as you were probably not impeding his progress as much as you were hoping. You stood your ground, although a little bit shakily, and your eyes finally noticed his arm. He, as you and Asmo both expected, had already treated it to the best of his abilities. It was wrapped in bandages that even you could tell were soaked in something magical, and it was resting in a makeshift sling he had seemingly made out of one of his pillowcases. It had several different adorable cats on it, which was a strange contrast to the furious look he was giving you. “First you scream at me to not be mad, and now you’re telling me to direct my wrath towards you instead of Asmo? Which is it?! Pick!” 
“I’d prefer neither, if I’m being honest!” You exclaimed, releasing his clothes so he could turn around fully, facing you. Your shoulders slumped a bit as you stared at his arm, your eyelids drooping in sorrow. “But it’s fine. Yell at me.” If this is what he needed… “Take your anger out on me!” If you could prevent the others from being hurt again…you’d do anything. “Whatever you need to feel better.” You lifted your head to stare him down only to lower it as soon as you felt a little bonk on your head. 
As soon as the side of his hand gently struck the top of your skull, he deflated. “Are you an entire idiot?” An exhausted sigh left his lungs, rubbing at his eyes before lowering his good arm. “Taking my anger out on you would leave you hurt or even worse. Don’t you know better than to provoke a demon? I thought we all taught you better than that.” 
You rubbed the part he had hit, although it had startled you more than hurt you. Squaring your shoulders, you changed your stance to one to make it look as though you had planned this to work all along. Wait…who was supposed to be scolding who? You came here to look after him, not the other way around! “And I thought maybe you all would trust me a bit more to actually tell me the truth rather than sneak around and skulk in your rooms!” As you both locked eyes, his gaze almost flickered away from you at that. Time to double down. “As far as I’m concerned, you’re just as much of an idiot.” Normally, statements like that would rile him up again, but you were, perhaps, riding on the fact that you knew he had a weakness for you. That, and the fact that you came up and wrapped your arms around his waist probably saved you from retaliation. “I might be an idiot, sure, but I’m not completely stupid.” Your head rested against his good shoulder. “I know when something feels off with you all. Did you really expect me to stand idly by as you all suffered?” 
His little huff disturbed a few strands of your hair. “I guess I was hoping it would take you a bit longer before you found out…We all underestimated you again, didn’t we?” 
“Never forget that humans thrive on stubbornness and spite,” you reminded him with a little grin. You pulled apart from him and took his good hand. “Let’s get out of this cold hallway. You should be in bed.” A noise of mild surprise stuck in his throat as you tugged him back into his bedroom, shutting the door, carefully stepping over and around little piles of books to bring him back to his bed. He sat back down on his mattress, glaring daggers at a hardcover lying face up and open over his covers. With a swipe of his hand much like a cat, he batted it clean off his bed. Something in the back of your mind clicked. The knock at the door wasn’t what made him upset, was it? Asmo mentioned something like this, didn’t he? “Are you mad that you can’t turn the pages?” 
Heat suddenly flared up in his cheeks, almost growling. “It shouldn’t be that hard!” His broken arm was his dominant one…
“What happened to your e-book tablet? That should be fine for now, right?” 
“I lent it to Levi…” He settled back against his pillows, staring out the window. “But it’s fine, I don’t need it. Don’t bother him.” 
You looked out the window with him, wondering if there was something fascinating out there or if it was another excuse to not look you in the eyes. You sat down beside him on the bed, your forefinger resting on his good hand, tracing circles into his knuckles. You caught him trying to glance at you out of the corner of his eyes, gaze a bit softer than it had been. “Do you know what happened to the rest of your brothers? I remember Levi ran off before I could even get a good look at him.” 
Satan’s jaw tightened, a little bump forming in one of his cheeks as his tongue pressed against the side of his mouth, struggling to talk but luckily finally sharing some information. “Asmo’s knee got dislocated and has multiple fractures throughout his leg. We managed to fix it up mostly, but he still can’t walk on it very well. I remember trying to get to him, turning my back for just a second. Just one second. Then I think I was kicked. Next thing I remember, I was waking up far away from battle, my arm completely broken from the shoulder down. I returned to the fight when it was nearly over.” Against his own better judgment, he tried to shift his injured shoulder as if maybe it had healed in the little bit of time you had been with him. He winced, cursing a bit, squeezing his eyes shut till the sharp pain went away. As you rubbed his other good arm, you had to wonder to yourself if the brothers had had very many instances with pain like this. For humans, it wasn’t really rare to break a bone or dislocate something at all. What usually hurt you was nothing more than perhaps mild discomfort to these demons. So for them to feel this much pain… “We’re supposed to be your protectors…” Satan found your hand with his and gave it a squeeze. “For all of us to be put out of commission like this…” 
Your heart tugged at that. “Satan…” You stroked the side of his face with the back of your other hand, shaking your head a little. “Don’t be so dramatic. I don’t think any less of you. Not for any of you. Let me take care of all of you this time. I may not be super strong, or super fast, or insanely powerful…but I can do this at least. So please, don’t push me away. Let me help. Do you want me to go get your tablet from Levi’s room?” 
For a moment, he was speechless, slowly tilting his head towards your touch before closing his eyes completely. “If you would…yes, please.” 
“Then I’ll go do that,” you beamed. “Anything else you want me to get for you?” 
He shook his head, rubbing his cheek against your hand like his favorite felines till it was settled in your palm. “Not right now…but listen, Levi’s not…doing well. Please, be careful.” 
“What happened to him?” 
He straightened, obviously wanting more of your attention but turning serious. Sure, they all taunted and joked around with each other, fought with each other, said they couldn’t stand each other, as siblings are wont to do, but even Satan seemed upset when he spoke about his older brother, a special sort of worry swirling deep behind his eyes. Once he told you, you stood straight up, stomach churning. You gave Satan’s hand a kiss before dropping it, sprinting out of his room as fast as you could. 
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Nothing prepared, no plan in your mind, you approached Levi’s room quickly. If what Satan had said was true…Satan wouldn’t lie about something like this. Which meant…Levi…You threw the door open, not even bothering to knock, which yeah, was kinda rude, but you couldn’t help it, you were riddled with concern. It was a good thing you did too, because he was doing worse than you had imagined. “Oh god…Levi…” You whispered, almost losing the strength in your voice at the shock. 
Unlike his other two brothers you’d visited so far, he seemed to have taken no steps to take care of himself from earlier. You could hardly blame him though, seeing him like this, clothes still filthy from the flight, covered in dirt and…blood. His blood. It was all over his face, matting his hair, coating his eyelids. His hands were also covered in it, clawing at his scalp, rolling around on the floor in pain, silently crying. Had he been this way for hours? And no one bothered to tell you? No one bothered to take care of him this way?! It hit you suddenly, that perhaps no one was here to help Levi because no one could. Were all the others this way?...Or were the ones you had yet to see even worse? 
Glancing at him was enough to figure out a list of what he needed. Sneaking back into Asmo’s room, you were at the very least pleased to see that the medicine bottle had a smidge less of its contents, meaning Asmo had taken some for the pain. This was what Levi needed now. You held onto it carefully, allowing yourself to look at Asmo’s sleeping face for only a split-second before leaving Lust to his beauty sleep. You dashed around the house in nearly a panic, gathering a few other things until your human arms couldn’t carry anything else. You returned to Levi’s bedroom, shutting the door behind you with your foot, nearly dropping all the items on the floor beside him, careful not to break any of the valuables. “Levi?” You spoke gently, voice filled with compassion and yet sorrow. You hated seeing him like this. You frowned as the demon continued to squirm, gasping, unable to focus on anything other than the unimaginable pain he was going through. You almost reached out to touch his head, but that would’ve been the worst idea right now seeing as how…his horns were gone. 
Heart breaking in pieces, you grabbed his wrists, trying to prevent him from causing any more damage to his head. Although his eyes were still closed, he reached out for you, gripping your clothes so tightly, he ripped holes in them with his fingers. “Help me…” He cried, not embarrassed at being caught this way, just desperate for some relief, for someone to care for him when he could not. 
“I am…I’m here,” you assured him, placing your arms under his, suddenly doing your best to slightly pick him up, dragging him over to his wall so you could prop him up against it. Somehow, you did this successfully, the adrenaline in you giving you strength you didn’t know you had. Fumbling with the medicine bottle, you poured the proper dosage into the cap. When Barbatos had given this to you, you almost laughed, ready to question why it was a liquid kind rather than in some capsule form. Now you answered your own question. Levi was hardly in a state well enough to consume this much, you didn’t want to imagine the kind of pain you would have put the both of you through if you had tried to get him to swallow a pill. Keeping him still with a hand against his face, you told him to open his mouth, dumping the medicine past his lips. 
Magically, it seemed to almost work as soon as he swallowed it. His twitching lessened, his breathing not as shallow. “MC?” He muttered your name weakly, trying to open his eyes, but finding that his dried blood had essentially sealed his eyes shut. It’s a good thing you brought a rag and a little bowl of clean warm water. 
“It’s me,” you confirmed, getting the rag wet and brushing it over his face, working on clearing up the eyelids, getting it off his eyelashes. Soon, his tears were no longer limited to slipping from the corners of his eyes. They dripped down his face, streaking down more grime as they did so. You were quick to wipe that all away, getting his face clean, trying to ignore the way he was rubbing his head against the wall. Although doing so seemed to bring him some relief, as long as he didn’t accidently touch the two bloody nubs just barely peeking above his blue-hair. After you’d cleaned his face, the medicine, your presence, and the steady motion against the cold wall had his crying stop completely. Now he simply seemed two steps away from passing out, and while you knew he desperately needed sleep after all that, you did hope you could get him fully clean before then. “Let’s try to get you to the shower, come on.” You took both his hands, leaning your full body weight back, persuading him up on his feet. 
A small wave of despair flooded over you from him as a little bit of his negative personality came through. “Gross…” He muttered, hardly having the energy in him to speak. “And dir…dirty…” He did get up eventually, almost falling forward, leaning a ton of his dead-weight on you instead. 
“I know, Levi, I know…We’re going to work on you getting clean. I’m going to need you to try to stand up though…or we’ll both fall…” Your legs were already shaking at the added pressure. Demons sure were heavy…He managed to find the strength to carry himself, holding your hand tightly as you led him through the doorway to his room. He kept wobbling, unbalanced on his own feet. Was he that exhausted or…was the sudden loss of horns on his head throwing off his entire natural stability? You tugged him away from the doorframe he was about to walk straight into, carefully and slowly leading him towards the House’s main bathroom. 
Despite being really out of it, he suddenly seemed to realize where you both were as soon as the bathroom door closed you both in. “I…I…I…” Was all he could stutter. You grabbed one of the bathroom’s chairs – an interior design choice you always questioned, but one you were grateful for now – and settled him in one, working to pull his dirty hoodie off, some of your fingers brushing over the blue scale-like details in his skin. Finally, this last act was enough to bring him almost fully to his senses. “Don’t!” He held onto his clothes while you had brought them nearly fully off, the fabric bunched up over his head, covering his face. “I…I can do it…I’ll be out– be out soon…” 
You allowed yourself to take a breath, thinking about the fact that you were essentially tearing off his clothes. Shaking your head, trying to gather yourself and your own senses, you agreed. “Okay…just remember no shampoo or anything, alright? I’ll bring you clean clothing and be right outside the door.” He didn’t exactly have the power to deny you, so he just agreed with a groan, pulling his hoodie off the rest of the way, letting it fall to the floor. Giving him his privacy, you left the room, turning back down the hall to gather Levi some clean clothes. You didn’t really know how to treat broken horns…Satan had briefly explained enough to assure you that they would grow back, it would just be extremely uncomfortable to say the least. You had to just hope that you were doing enough…and if you could help Asmo and Satan recover, they could probably help the others in ways you could not. One step at a time though. Folding up a set of clean and soft clothes, you hurried back to the bathroom, giving it a small knock. “Levi, I’m going to open up the door enough to put these inside, okay?” 
“F–Fine…” It was faint, but you heard it, opening the door just wide enough to settle the clothes on the floor before shutting it again, resting your forehead against the wood. There was silence other than the sound of rushing water. Then there was a little squeak as the showerhead turned off, a few stray drops striking the floor. You then heard him shuffling, moaning a little bit in pain as he worked to get himself dressed. As you finally took a step back from the door, it opened, Levi grasping on the door handle, his fresh clothes you’d brought him clinging to his still-soaking body. 
You sighed a bit and pointed to the chair that had remained in the place you’d left it. “Sit,” you demanded, careful not to let the magic of the pact work its way in your words. With how weak he was, you didn’t want to force his body to do anything. Levi looked at you with wide eyes before lowering his head, almost whimpering, sitting in the seat. You stepped inside, finding a soft towel, beginning to run it over his body. This was probably a useless gesture. The brothers had already explained to you that temperature, little things like staying wet, they weren’t that hazardous to demons. Yet, you couldn’t help but do it anyway, getting his arms and his legs, his neck. His hair still had a decent amount of dried blood in it, but you’d have to worry about that later. Even just touching his hairline almost had him flinch. “Okay,” you told him once you felt satisfied, going over one last spot with the towel as you cleared the water from dripping into his eyes. “Let’s get you to bed.” 
He had no complaints at that, letting you drag him back to his bedroom. It probably wasn’t needed, but you held onto his shoulders as you helped him hoist himself into his strange nest of a bed. He immediately curled up into it, a sigh leaving his chest as he finally seemed to have a reprieve from constant pain. You unfurled one of the blankets you’d brought from your room, the one he always seemed to tug away from you if he spent the night in your room. Pulling it over him, he finally looked up at you, eyes almost wavering with emotion as he gripped at the comforter. 
“Get lots of sleep. I’ll bring you food when you wake up as well as anything else you need.” You wished you could stroke his head, petting him softly. You’d have to resolve yourself to rubbing his arm instead. “Do you know if any of your other brothers really need my help right now?” You could only start to imagine what the others might be going through in silence. Levi suddenly looked frightened as he began to recall the others. He raised his head enough to speak clearly, a pleading sort of squeak in his voice. “B-Beel.” 
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You steeled yourself as you approached the twin’s room. On one hand, this would be an opportunity to take care of two brothers at once. On the other hand, you knew you would suffer seeing the state the two youngest brothers were in. Levi had finally passed out as soon as he uttered his brother’s name, unable to stay awake any longer, so you had no idea what afflicted Gluttony and Sloth. Beel had shown up to breakfast at least. Yet, you had to wonder if any injury was enough to keep him away from food. He’d probably be hungry now…maybe you should’ve made him something. Best to check on them first though while you were here. 
At least you knew the twins were not as likely to turn you away as the others. Beel didn’t have that sort of stubbornness in him, and he was hardly embarrassed by anything. Belphie might initially be irritated, but he was the spoiled one. He would probably quickly change his feelings as soon as he knew you would do anything for him. A little sigh came out of you as you gathered yourself. A few of your knocks seemed to echo down the quiet halls. With these two, you announced yourself without hesitating, hoping to hear a voice on the other side. “Beel? Belphie? It’s me. Can I come in?” Nothing. Not too surprising actually. Perhaps they were both asleep? That would be a preferable scenario. “I’m coming in,” you warned, pausing for a few seconds before pushing the door open. 
The room was dark, a slight glow coming from the sun and moon decals behind the twin’s bed. It allowed you just enough light to keep from tripping on your own feet. The first thing you noticed was surprisingly Belphie’s bed. Empty. But not even just devoid of a demon, empty entirely. Pillows, blankets, stuffed cushions, even the sheets, all tugged off Sloth’s bed in what appeared to be a fit of frustration. Nothing was damaged but the mattress was bare, the nest Belphie usually slept in was in heaps on the ground. Luckily, Beel’s bed was not in the same state, a large lump under the covers, a few ginger tufts sticking out from the blanket’s hem. He usually snored, but it didn’t seem to be the case this time, which had you wondering if he was awake or not. He was, however, wheezing a little, each breath taken in shakily and painfully. You came over quietly, nervous about trying to tap him or shake him when you weren’t sure about the state he was in. So, you simply pulled down the comforter enough to see his face, rubbing the top of his head, assuming with imaginary crossed-fingers that he didn’t share Levi’s injuries. His eyebrows were scrunched in pain, but as soon as he felt your hand on his head, his eyes fluttered open. “MC?” 
“Hi, Beel,” you tried to grin, sitting next to him on the bed. “How’re you feeling?” 
“Huh?” His eyes closed again as he seemed to be thinking, humming once he came to a conclusion. “How did you know? I was told we weren’t supposed to tell you.” 
So this wasn’t some unanimous brotherly bond of secrecy? Which one of these stupid, pig-headed, prideful– ah, Lucifer told them all to hush, didn’t he? You’d have to give the eldest a scolding of your own later, even at the risk of your own health. It was what he deserved. However, that wasn’t your main concern at the moment. You nodded towards Beel. “Diavolo told me. So, I’ve been checking in on all of you. I’m here to take care of you. Anything you want– within reason –and I’ll get it for you.” 
Unlike his other siblings, Beel actually smiled. “I’m glad.” He tried to let out a relieved exhale, but only twitched in pain as soon as he tried. “Stuff like this doesn’t happen a lot. I’m sure some of them don’t know what to do…so I’m glad you’re here for them.” 
“I’m here for you too, you know,” you had to remind him. “Can you tell me what happened to you so I can help you?” 
Suddenly he frowned deeply, a sulking and guilty look crossing over his face. “I tried to help…but I ended up causing more problems for everyone…” He seemed one step away from crying, but managed not to, looking away from you instead. “Mammon was the distraction, but everyone could tell he was getting tired. I didn’t want him to get hurt so I…” He moaned a little as he took a breath to keep talking. “It ended up charging. I took the hit. I play Fangol, so I thought I could take it…but I…” He pushed the rest of the covers off him with one hand, the blankets folding up around his feet. You noticed that there were several little packets resting on his body. At least you discovered where the ice-packs were now. They appeared to all have melted though, deflated and warm. You’d have to put them back in the freezer. Beel pulled up part of his shirt, revealing the huge discolored bruises that covered his torso. He rested his hand beside him on the bed, trying to look at his own injuries with a little bit of confusion, like he wasn’t used to feeling this way. “Hurt my ribs,” he finally stated. “And it was all for nothing…my brothers all got hurt anyway…” 
“That’s not your fault, Beel.” With a kind hand, you turned his head towards you. “It’s not. You all did what you thought was best in the moment. You won’t start to feel better if you keep beating yourself up over it. Let yourself rest physically and mentally, okay?” You rubbed his head again, the gesture making him grin again. It was an act he mostly saw happen to his twin, so he was probably internally thrilled it was his turn this time. “Promise me you’ll rest.” 
“I’ll try…it’s hard though…I’m worried.” 
“About your brothers?” 
He slowly nodded. “Yeah…I know a lot of them got hurt pretty badly. Belphie seemed pretty restless earlier. I think that’s keeping me up too.” 
“So I take it you won’t be able to sleep till I take care of the rest of them?” 
Either he was taking this whole thing extra hard, or perhaps he heard the exhaustion that was beginning to creep into your voice. “Sorry…”
You tugged his shirt back down over his bruised body, picking up the multiple used-up ice packs that needed to be refrozen. “Don’t be, Beel. It’s nice that you care for your brothers that deeply. I’ve checked on Asmo, Satan, and Levi already. They’re on their first steps to recovery.” At that fact, a few lines of worry left Beel’s forehead. “I’ll put these in the kitchen for a little bit, make you a snack, and bring you some medicine, and then I’ll go take care of the rest of your siblings, okay?” 
At the mention of a snack, his stomach rumbled. “Please?” 
For a giant, muscular demon, he really could be adorable. “Of course. I’ll be right back, okay?” You tucked the covers around him for now, getting up to leave the room to finish up your new tasks. First off, the medicine you’d left in Levi’s room. You opened the door quietly, glad Levi was sleeping soundly. While you were here, you’d better find Satan’s tablet before Wrath got too impatient. Luckily, it was simply resting on Levi’s desk. Tucking that and the medicine under one arm, you left Levi to his dreams, rushing back down to Satan’s room. You were glad when knocking didn’t result in making him angry again. In fact, he didn’t respond at all. You were surprised to find Satan fast asleep when you took a peek inside his room. You couldn’t help but smile a bit at his peaceful face, setting down his tablet on his nightstand, leaving him to head to the kitchen. 
As you opened the kitchen door, you nearly walked into someone else. The demon blinked. “Beel? Oh…you’re not Beel.” 
“Belphie!” You were a bit comforted at the fact that he seemed to be walking around just fine. “What’re you doing in here? Shouldn’t you be resting?” 
“Looking for Beel…” He muttered, his eyes glazed over with pain and exhaustion, and yet despite that and being Sloth, he didn’t seem up for sleeping just yet. 
“He’s up in your room. He’s been there since breakfast…did you not notice him?” You walked around the demon for a moment, trying to multitask, putting the warm ice-packs in the freezer. You placed down the medicine on the counter, pulling out a few things to make and bring for Beel. Something easy to eat. 
“I don’t…remember…my head hurts…” Belphie lowered his head, looking away from the light in the room. 
He was acting a bit odd… “Come sit down for a minute,” you coaxed, coming over to take him by the shoulders, making him sit down at the kitchen island. “If your head hurts, take some medicine. Here.” Like you had done for Levi, you poured the medicine in the cap, holding it out for Belphie to take. Rather than taking it in his own hands, he parted his lips slightly, waiting for you to do it for him. Like you said earlier…spoiled. You couldn’t help but chuckle just a little bit as you gave him the medicine, turning your back to him to wash the cap again. Your humor was short-lived as you heard him rush out of his seat so fast, he knocked the chair over. “Belphie?” You turned just in time to watch him bend over a trash can, purging the medicine you’d just given him. Almost dropping what you’d had in your hand, you rushed over to his side, keeping him steady as he continued to be sick, a few coughs and cries between heaves. 
Once he was done, he fell to the ground, using the fabric of his sleeve to wipe off his lips, pressing his forehead against the cold floor. “What’s…wrong…with…me?” 
A headache, light sensitivity, restlessness…nausea…As you hurried to grab him a cup of water, you tried to connect the symptoms to something. Although, it’s not like you were a demon doctor or anything, how were you supposed to know for certain? You did have a guess though…You knelt beside him, grabbing his arm to pull him up upright just enough so he was sitting up against a cabinet. You tried getting him to hold the glass of water, but he kept batting you away. “Belphie…drink some. Here, take sips.” You supported the back of his head, making him drink in little doses before you felt satisfied. “I’m sorry for making you take the medicine when your stomach was upset…I had no idea.” You frowned, trying not to lecture yourself too harshly, gently placing the back of your hand on his forehead. 
At the touch, he collapsed forward, his arms wrapping around you, keeping you in a death-like grip. “So…tired…where’s Beel?” 
It would be bad if he fell asleep on you like this…You wouldn’t be able to leave…”I just told you…in your room. Did you hurt your head, Belphie?” Could demons get concussions? This seemed close to that, whatever it was. You rubbed his back at the risk of lulling him to sleep. 
“I…think so…” 
“Poor Belphie…” You couldn’t help but say aloud, letting him squeeze you a bit. “Let’s take you to bed. Can you stand up? I can’t carry you…” 
“Bed?...” 
“Yeah, in your room. A nice soft bed. I just need you to stand up for me…” After a bit of processing, he managed to stand…although he was still holding onto you, only shuffling his feet whenever you moved. His head rested in the crook of your neck, arms around your waist. He was making everything a lot harder…but if this is what he wanted…Placing a few snacks and the bottle of medicine on a tray, you somehow managed to hold onto it while having Belphie cling to you like his life depended on it. “Let’s go…” This would be an adventure. Each step you took towards the twins room, you felt more of Belphie’s strength leave him, leaning on you a little harder the further you got. By some miracle, you both made it, trying to not collapse to the floor while almost fully dragging Belphie around. 
As you opened the door, you noticed Beel brighten at the sight of you two, holding his sides as he sat up. You almost warned him against it, but if he was going to eat, better to do it upright. You weren’t sure if you’d be able to give a demon a Heimlich Maneuver if he started to choke. “Belphie! You found him.” 
Gritting your teeth a bit, you managed to pull the mentioned twin further into the room, settling the tray on Beel’s lap. “Yeah…he’s not doing so well…Can you take him off of me so I can make his bed?” 
Beel’s face fell a little bit, ignoring the snacks for now, grabbing both of Belphie’s arms, having to pry his twin off of you. You stretched a bit as soon as the weight left your shoulders. “Thanks…” Time to tackle this mess of a bed now…At least you knew Belphie wasn’t exactly picky when it came to his sleeping spots. Still, you wanted to do your best. You worked on finding the sheets first, tugging them over each of the corners. You heard the twins muttering to each other behind you, both of them trying to support each other in their own ways despite being injured. It warmed your heart, giving you a bit more energy to keep going. After the sheets were on, you threw all the cushions, letting them settle wherever they fell, spreading out the blankets and tucking back one of the corners. “Alright, Belphie, let’s tuck you in.” 
The youngest’s knees were on the floor, the top half of him resting on Beel’s bed, his body slowly slipping towards the ground. You came over behind him, hands on his sides, trying to pull him up and over to his bed. “I want…to stay…with Beel…” 
“I think it’s best if you stay in your own beds for now…” Although you were pretty tempted to do whatever he asked. Especially since he sounded so broken-hearted over leaving his twin despite only being a few feet away from him. “What if you hurt his ribs while trying to hug him? Or what if you accidentally hit your head against something since you’d be cramped trying to stay in the same bed? Once you both feel better, you can sleep wherever you want.” He didn’t really fight you, huddling up into a little ball on his bed once you’d guided him into it. You made sure only the softest of his pillows were placed under his head as you tucked several blankets around him, hoping he could sleep despite the pain he was in. 
“He looks worse than I remember…” Beel whispered from his own bed. 
“I think he must’ve hit his head pretty hard sometime during the fight,” you shared, trying to get Belphie to fall asleep by rubbing circles into his back over the blankets. “He was wandering around looking for you, and then threw up the medicine when I gave it to him. I’ll try to have him take some again after he sleeps. Maybe his stomach will settle by then.” 
Suddenly, Beel found it hard to eat his snacks, like he could feel his brother’s nausea as his own…or maybe he found it hard to enjoy himself while all his other siblings were suffering. He still managed to eat, just slowly, the two of you sitting in relative silence for a bit, observing Belphie as his eyelids struggled to stay open, finally shutting and remaining still. “MC?” Beel called your name softly, waving you over. You got up and approached him, an eyebrow raised. He surprised you as he took your face in his hands, pressing his forehead against yours. “You’re the best. I’m glad we have you looking after us…Thank you.” 
“You all can thank me by getting better as quickly as you can.” You kissed his cheek, pulling away from him with a hand settled on one of your hips. “Try to rest too if possible. Leave your brothers to me…and let me know if you or Belphie need anything.” 
“Okay,” he agreed, some worry leaving him now that his twin was back in the room, knowing that the others had you caring for them. He stifled a yawn, still unable to take deep breaths. “And MC?” He made sure to address you before you left the room. You looked over your shoulder at him. “Look after yourself too, okay? You already look tired.” 
You were…but you were far from being done…but, yes. You wouldn’t be much help if you got hurt from pushing yourself too hard. “I will, Beel. Don’t worry.” 
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Only Mammon and Lucifer remained unchecked. Out of the two of them, you figured you’d save the most problematic for last…which meant you’d head to Mammon first. While Lucifer did have a special soft-spot for you, if he was hurt, it meant his Pride was doubly wounded. There was little chance he’d let you into his room. Maybe Mammon would have some idea on how to convince the eldest to let you in, and you could care for the second-born in the meantime. You were a bit worried though…Despite his grumblings, Lucifer always looked after his siblings. So why…when they needed it the most, was Lucifer nowhere to be found? He had sent that message to the members of Purgatory Hall to ensure you’d make it to RAD safely, and that was it. There had been no sign of him since then. Focus, you encouraged yourself, pacing in a little circle in front of Mammon’s door before channeling your inner Lucifer and knocking sternly. Silence. 
Somehow, despite having been met with similar disappointing responses several times today, Mammon’s missing voice sent a chill down your spine. There was no grumble, no yelp, no noise inside his room whatsoever. “Mammon?” You opened his door to spy inside. You were a quick jumble of conflicting emotions. The quietness was simply due to Mammon being completely absent from his room and not because he was so hurt he…For that you were grateful…and yet…where in the world was he?! If he was hurt, now was not the time to be out! You could only hope he was still inside the house…You’d have to go find him. 
Trying to remain quiet enough not to disturb the others attempting to rest, you sprinted through the house, checking every room you came across, playing this weird and stressful game of hide-and-seek you didn’t remember signing up for. Maybe the couches in the common room? No. The music room? Sadly not. The library? Not unless he had hidden himself amongst the books…Think, think! This was Mammon. If he wasn’t in his room, where would he be?...You closed your eyes, hands pressing against your temples as if you could squeeze the information into your brain. And then…an idea. Running back through the hall, you made your way down past the brother’s bedrooms and towards your own. He always did say your room was practically his own as well, seeing as how he was there so often. You had found your room empty when you grabbed the blanket for Levi, so it had almost slipped from your mind. But there was always the possibility Mammon had snuck in there while you were off helping the others. 
There it was…your door just ahead of you…opened by a crack when you had sworn you shut it completely when you’d left. He had to be there. Taking a moment to catch your breath, you padded slowly up to your bedroom, pushing the door open softly. Hair covering his face, breathing in little gasps, Mammon was resting at the end of your bed on his back, legs dangling off the mattress. You nearly jumped on your bed beside him, trying not to jostle him too much, touching the side of his face as you observed his split bottom lip. “H–hey,” he rasped, either having been awake the whole time or suddenly up at your touch. “You’re not–” His head tilted back as he groaned, biting his lip tightly, making the split in his lip worse, some of his blood dripping down his chin. 
“You’re hurting yourself,” you lightly scolded. “Don’t bite on your lip like that.” 
You could tell he attempted to look at you with annoyance, but it fell very short, looking like a beg instead. “Don’t…tell me what to do…” 
You had several things you wanted to say to that, most of them sarcastic, but you could tell he didn’t need that right now. “We should get you back to your room…” Running your fingers through his hair, you felt how cold his skin was…You wedged a hand under one of his shoulders, ready to help push him up, only to hear him shout in pain, his cry so sharp it rang in your ears. 
“Don’t move me!” He panted, cold sweat running down his forehead now in little beads, gulping down the pain. “Don’t…move me…” He repeated it, quieter this time. 
Hearing him like that forced tears to prick your eyes, but you didn’t dare let them fall. “Why’d you come in here then if you were hurt that bad?!” You couldn’t help but raise your voice a bit, the tone almost breaking in a little bit of panic. He looked worse for wear…beyond that, even.  
“Heh…” It was a mix between a whine and a chuckle. “I’m the stupid one…remember?” That appeared to be his only answer. He turned his head away from you and closed his eyes. “Just leave me here…yeah?” You wanted to do something, wanted to say something, but you suddenly found yourself at a loss. What should you do? What had happened to the troublesome Greed to make him like this? 
“Where?...” You finally spoke, voice a little strained. “Where are you hurt?...How badly?” He didn’t respond, and for a moment, you were worried he had blacked out. But then slowly, he reached for your hand, weakly holding it in his own. 
“Badly…” 
“Where?” You asked again. 
There was a wheeze as he tilted his head towards you again, the life draining from his face, blinking slowly. “Got me…right in the chest…’batos patched me up, but…hurts like hell…” He tried looking you in the eyes, but cast his gaze away quickly, probably embarrassed at the way he looked right now. ‘Not cool at all’, he would probably say under normal conditions. Gradually, despite his stubbornness, he lifted up his shirt. His chest was tightly bound in bandages, three large lines of blood bleeding out through the cloth. He’d been cut…or clawed at was probably the better term. Greed was selfish, ‘scummy’ most called him, and yet, he took a deep and painful breath, using up energy he didn’t really have to ask you a specific question. “How’re the others?” 
“I’ve been helping them as much as I can…” 
“Lucifer?” 
“I haven’t seen him yet...Is he bad?” 
He licked at his dry lips, swallowing some nervousness. “Don’t…tell him I told you…” His eyes looked around like he was worried his older brother might pop out of the walls. Once he figured he was safe enough, he sighed. “Idiot’s worse than I am.” 
The words struck you harshly, leaving you feeling almost numb. “Worse? He seemed almost fine when you all came home.” 
“That’s pride for ya…” 
Your head lowered, trying to ignore the worry pounding in your chest. One step at a time… One brother at a time…Now was not the time to sulk. “If we can’t get you to your room, let’s at least try to straighten you out…” 
“You’re askin’ a lot of me here…” It came off as a little bit of a joke, Mammon mentally preparing himself. “The Great…Mammon will move for ya…You might have to help a little though.” He gestured towards his feet, having you grab his ankles to swing him around vertically. Meanwhile, he dug his elbows into the mattress, pulling himself up to where your pillows were. Unlike before, he kept himself from shouting this time, probably to save some face. However, now his body was slightly trembling, pain wracking his body. 
“You did it,” you praised, tugging the remaining blankets out from under him so you could place them over his body. You pet his head, trying to dab away some of his sweat with the corner of the covers. “Good job…” You noticed your own hands were shaking. “...Hey…you’ll be okay, won’t you?” Finally, without your permission, you felt some tears slip from your eyes. “You’re not going to die on me, are you?”
The corner of his mouth twitched in a smile. “Nah…It’ll take a lot more…than some measly scratches…to do me in.” 
“Promise?...” 
He reached a hand up to brush away one of your tears, only to quickly lose the strength, his arm dropping limply to his sides. “I promise. I wouldn’t lie to ya. Give me a few days…and I’ll be right back on my feet.” You didn’t mean to doubt him, but you’d have to contact Diavolo to double check. Although, if Barbatos truly was the one to mend these wounds, you doubted he would’ve let Mammon go if he was in critical condition. 
“Barbatos gave me medicine for the pain. I’ll go get it for you, okay?” You ran your hand up and down his arm. “Do you want anything else?” 
 “Eh…if you’re askin’, some water would be nice.” 
“I can do that!” You didn’t mean to sound so enthusiastic, but if that’s all he wanted to feel better, you could do that easily. It made you feel a little less useless in this situation. “I’ll be right back!” Thank goodness the kitchen was right next door, although you left the medicine in the twin’s room…Maybe at this point, you should just have it strapped to you, since it seemed everyone needed some, making you run back for it all the time. At least it gave you an excuse to peek in on the twins again. Heading to the room first, you tip-toed in. Both twins were asleep. Now, you weren’t necessarily the prayerful type, but even you were tempted to slip in a little thank-you to the universe or whoever else might be listening. You grabbed the bottle of medicine once more and bolted back downstairs. In this situation, you would’ve been tempted to fill up the fanciest glass for Mammon, but if he could hardly move…a glass probably wouldn’t cut it…What did they have in here? You rummaged through the shelves and cupboards, looking for something that might be more useful than just a glass. Ah! One of Beel’s sports water bottles! It was one of those kinds where you hit a button and a little straw pops out. If only it wasn’t so large…oh well. Beggars can’t be choosers. You filled it up with filtered water, leaving enough empty space so if you were to tilt it, water wouldn’t come spilling out. Then you made your way back to Mammon, almost out of breath with as fast as you had been moving. You crawled up in bed on your knees, already in the process of pouring him some medicine. “Here…” You could only hope he wouldn’t be sick like Belphie. You helped him tilt his head up, pouring it into his mouth, watching him grimace. 
“Awful stuff…” Although, like for Levi, it started to take effect immediately. He took a moment to himself, breathing clearly, his body no longer shuddering. Then as the pain subsided, he started to realize just how dry his throat felt. “Water,” he demanded, a little bit of warmth coming to his cheeks…thank goodness. “Please,” he added. 
You handed him the water bottle and watched as he greedily chugged it down, almost emptying it entirely. “Easy!” You warned. “Don’t make yourself sick.” 
He gasped for air once he had gulped down enough, already looking worlds better than when you had found him, although he still was looking rough. “--’is the best water…ever had…” 
You sighed, releasing a ton of tension you’d been holding in your lungs. “It’s a good year…Vintage.” Not the best joke you’d ever made, a pretty terrible one actually, but one you shared nonetheless. Anything to break the tension. 
A breathy huff left his nostrils, the best he could manage for a laugh while his chest was in tatters. You suddenly felt his fingers weave through yours, holding your hand as he closed his eyes. “Thank you…” 
You brushed some of his hair away from his eyes, feeling the temperature in his skin begin to return to normal. “You’re welcome…Get some rest. Please don’t move rooms while I’m gone.” 
“I won’t…” He cracked one eye back open. “Gonna see Lucifer?” 
“I’ll…try. If he’s worse off than you are, I have no idea how he’ll let me even near him.” You rubbed your thumb comfortingly against Mammon’s, thinking as you frowned. These demons…You felt like your already shorter-in-comparison life-span was shrinking even further at the stress. 
Mammon hummed a little bit, releasing his hand so you could go, although you felt his hesitation. He didn’t want to let you go, but he knew he had to. “If he’s doin’ what I think he’s doin’, he’s in recovery mode right now. He’s shut himself down to heal as fast as he can to not disappoint Diavolo.” One of his fingers raised to point towards your door. “His door is probably locked, but I know Lucifer keeps an emergency Master Key somewhere in his office.” 
That sounded like a lot of work for something Lucifer would probably hate you for rather than be grateful. Intruding his office just to further intrude his bedroom after he locked it…If anyone knew what he was doing, it would be the eldest…Maybe you should leave him be. “Sounds pretty scheme-y.” Mammon almost looked wounded at that…joke not intended. “He’s the strongest out of everyone…He probably doesn’t need my help.” 
“MC…” Mammon pulled at the sleeve of your shirt, his eyes suddenly glaring at you with an unusual firmness. “Did ya not hear what I said? He’s shut down. If I can hardly move, there’s a good chance he can’t either. There’s no way he can take proper care of himself right now. ” He let go of you as he realized that he wasn’t exactly being clear. “Listen, he took a heavy hit for Diavolo. Got his wings messed up pretty badly. He was so stunned, he probably didn’t even know how badly he was hurt till he got home. If he’s not checking up on us, that means he’s unable to.” He went quiet for a moment, pressing his lips together, looking at the ceiling to your room like he was trying to sense something. Maybe he could. Maybe he had some sort of connection to Lucifer you hardly heard about, or maybe Mammon just could easily guess after having been around him for so long. “I hate to imagine it, but I have a bad feeling he’s completely unconscious.” 
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“Damn Lucifer and his tenacity to keep things hidden!” Hissing to yourself under your breath, you went about Lucifer’s office like a little whirlwind. No cushion, no folder, no shelf was safe while you were on the hunt. You knew once he was better, you’d get a proper punishment from Lucifer for rummaging through his office, but you could cross that bridge when you came to it. Right now, there was a stubborn demon in desperate need of your help. Maybe you should’ve checked on him first. You knew something felt off about this whole situation. The little voices in the back of your head were trying to clue you in as soon as Satan expressed mild worry about the first-born. Yet, you had pushed those aside, because Lucifer was always so put-together. It was what choked Diavolo up during your little meeting. 
 “And it was because I was there that–” The prince had said. ‘Lucifer was wounded’, you could finally finish that statement with your own conclusion. You pounded your palms down on Lucifer’s desk, your head low, wishing that things were different. If you were smarter, you could’ve found the key by now. If you were stronger, you could simply break Lucifer’s door down by force. If you weren’t just a human…maybe you could’ve gone and fought with them. But then you would’ve gotten hurt too…you had to tell yourself. 
You sat in Lucifer’s office chair, imagining him lecturing you. ‘Pitying yourself over circumstances you have no control over is a waste of time and effort,’ he’d probably say. He would be right. Although since this was you thinking it, technically you were right. Getting frustrated wouldn’t get you anywhere. Since you were already in the process of thinking like Lucifer…where would he hide a key? Somewhere away from anything valuable for fear of Mammon finding it. So nothing near his records or anything he held dear. Being in or behind any books was probably a negative as well, just in case Satan came down to borrow some. Checking the cushions had perhaps been a waste of time, for if Belphie ever came in here to take a nap, he might knock it loose. Ugh, why did he always have to overcomplicate things? Wait…maybe that was it. Anyone who tried looking for the Master Key would probably try to think like he did, complexly. So maybe the trick was to think of this as simply as you could. Where would be a dumb place to hide something important like that? With a swift motion, you opened up one of his desk drawers, careful not to mess up the order of any important papers. Nothing. And while you did feel around for a fake bottom, you figured Lucifer’s brothers would be clever enough to check for that. Just…double-checking, following through with the ‘so-simple-it-hurts’ theory, you felt around with your hand pressed against the underside of the desk. This was probably another waste of time. The demon of Pride wouldn’t try hiding a key by just taping it under his…Your fingers brushed against cold metal. You nearly felt like screaming. With a firm tug, you pulled it free, twisting it between your fingers as you looked at it. Definitely looked like a master’s key. 
Giving yourself a few seconds to mentally settle, you took a deep breath. Then, not wasting any more time, you dashed from Lucifer’s office, scrambling through the House to make it to his bedroom. You knocked on his door simply to save your own skin. Lucifer was practically a lie-detector test. Later, if he was going to ask if you even attempted to knock first before breaking in, you could rest easy knowing you did...kinda. You nearly dropped the key trying to shove it in the proper slot, heart almost sinking when it didn’t turn as easily as you felt it should’ve. With a second, more firm try, the door clicked. You opened the door so hurriedly, you nearly stumbled inside. “Lucifer, I’m–” You had heard what Mammon told you, and yet somehow, despite being told directly that Lucifer was in a bad state, you had still half-expected to see him sitting up in bed by now, glaring at you with the fury of a thousand suns. Such was not the case. When would you learn that locked doors are locked for a reason? “--here…” You found yourself still finishing your announcement, 
The eldest was face-down on his bed, not even under the covers. One of his arms dangled from off the edge of his bed, hand still grasping a roll of bandages which had completely unrolled, trailing all the way off to the side. Black feathers rested in various places. Some on the floor, some over Lucifer’s unmoving body, some still fluttering down from his four unfurled wings. When Mammon had mentioned them being in bad shape, he wasn’t kidding. Each of his wings were held out, bent in ways they probably shouldn’t be, the feathers disturbed, the ones that were covered in blood were the ones that were doing him the favor of falling, like they were purging themselves of imperfections. Every so often, the silence would break with the sound of a snap. It sounded like someone was popping their fingers. It took you longer than it should to notice that Lucifer’s wings moved with that sound, albeit slightly. Was this…Were his bones fixing themselves that rapidly? In front of your eyes? You were a sickly sort of fascinated, although mostly sick. After a good few minutes had passed, you finally turned around, taking the master’s key and tucking it into your pocket, shutting the door so, at the very least, Lucifer had some semblance of the privacy he had hoped to keep. 
You walked closer to him, coming around the other side of the bed to see that his other hand was gripping his sheets tightly, his knuckles white the smallest hint of a tremble in his usually firm hand. It was probably unimaginably painful… Again, you had to stop and wonder what you as a human could do in this situation… You couldn’t heal him…but you could finish what he had started, since it appeared he blacked-out before he could finish. Starting with the more obvious details, you took the rolled out bandage and took it from his hand, picking it up off the floor. It would have to be disposed of now. You chucked it in a trash can, taking Lucifer’s hand that had held it and lifted it, resting his arm near his head. There was a little pause as you waited for that to wake him up. At this, he usually would’ve grabbed you, or at least turned his head at you. No. Nothing. Not even a change in his breathing. You were almost disappointed, but it was probably the best for you both if he stayed unconscious for now. Next, you took the shoes off his feet, tucking them neatly against the foot of his bed. You really tested how out of it he was after that by tugging his blanket out from under him, draping it over his legs 
Now what?...As you stood there, you noticed the bruising over his back, a few thin lines of dried blood suggesting that he had been clawed at too, only the flesh-wounds had already healed. He truly was powerful. Perhaps those ice-packs you’d put in the freezer were ready to be used again. Lucifer could use one. “I’ll be back,” you whispered, leaving him to his own devices for a little while as you headed down to the kitchen once more. 
As you opened the freezer, you prodded one of the ice-packs with your finger. Good enough. Gathering them into your arms, you noticed that you counted seven of them. Perfect. You stopped by Asmo’s first, going in the order you had taken care of them. He was still fast asleep. You removed the bag of frozen veggies you’d used as a last-ditch-effort, replacing it with a fresh ice-pack. Asmo moaned a little in his sleep, but did little more than that. Next was Satan, also resting, although it seemed he had woken up for at least a little while since you came in his room last, the tablet you’d left on his nightstand was now over his chest. Careful not to wake him up, you wrapped the ice-pack in a cloth before trying to tuck it in his sling, placing it over his arm. His eyebrows scrunched but that was all. Levi next. You guessed it, asleep. You settled his ice-pack on the top of his head. He tossed and turned a little at the disturbance, but didn’t open his eyes. You readjusted the pack as it began to slip from its place. Levi sighed aloud probably in relief. Now for the twins. 
The entire House was noiseless as its residents continued to slumber. They all looked comfortable, at least as comfortable as they could be. You yawned a bit. What time was it? Was it that late? Or was seeing all of the sins sleep making you tired? You carefully removed Beel’s blanket after you’d entered their room. He woke up at that. “I fell asleep?” 
You nodded, giving him a little grin. “Seems like it. Sorry to wake you up. I brought you one of these.” You handed him one of the remaining packs in your possession. 
“Thank you.” He settled it where the swelling seemed to be the worst, wincing. “Did you check on the others? Mammon? Lucifer?” When you nodded in silence, he seemed to take the message, although he already knew they weren’t doing great in the first place. He watched you head over to Belphie’s bed, observing you as you lifted Sloth’s head gently, letting him rest on the ice-pack like a little pillow. Belphie muttered something in his sleep, almost reaching out to grab your hand, but missing, his grasp holding tightly to his body-pillow instead. “Have you had time to rest yet?” Beel asked, voicing his concern with a little rumbling groan. 
“I will soon,” you assured him, coming back to ruffle the hair on his head. “I gotta finish looking after Lucifer.” 
He looked at you with such compassion. “When we feel better, I want to take us all out to eat.” 
“I can’t wait.” You pulled the blanket back over him, telling him to return to his rest before you left, circling back around to your room. Probably not the most efficient of paths, but the only one you could seem to follow. Mammon was out like a light, not even a twitch as you rested one of the packs in the middle of his chest. You noticed that the water bottle you brought for him was already completely empty. You’d refill it for him…and perhaps grab Lucifer one as well. “I’m back again,” you announced to the counters and cabinets. Did Beel even visit the kitchen this many times in one day?...Probably. You refilled Mammon’s container and pulled another identical one down for Lucifer. Thank goodness Beel got gifted so many of these for sports sponsorships. Water. Mammon. Dropped off. Back up to Lucifer. 
Once you got back to the eldest’s room, you rested for a second against his wall, taking a breather. “Every time something like this happens,” you spoke aloud, knowing Lucifer probably wasn’t listening, “I gain a new respect for you. Taking care of this many people is exhausting.” Placing the water on Lucifer’s nightstand, you sighed, wrapping this last final ice-pack in fabric to keep it from freezing his skin. Now you could stop thinking the word ‘ice-pack’ as it was starting to lose its meaning. Carefully, you approached Lucifer’s side, careful not to touch his outspread wings to place the bundle down along his spine. “Not even the cold will wake you, hm?” You tried looking down at his sleeping features, only to remember that he was completely face-down. “Can you even breathe like that? Honestly, when it comes down to it, you’re just as bad as the rest of your brothers.” Not even mild lectures worked, huh? You reached down, finding his chin, turning his head just enough so his face was partially exposed. His slightly parted lips seemed to breathe in the air a little easier. You brushed his hair away from his closed eyes. “There you go.” Your hand seemed to linger on the side of his face. He was so warm. Almost too warm. “Rest easier now.” Your thumb rubbed at his sharp cheekbone. “Your brothers, your worries, leave them with me.” You got away with pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Return when you are ready, and not a moment sooner, you hear me?...I’ll be back in the morning to check on you.” With that, you figured you had done what you could for the time being. You dropped your touch from him, quietly striding from his room, using the key to lock his door behind you. 
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Hot…Why were you suddenly so unbelievably hot? You opened your eyes, trying to remember where you had last closed them. Ah, that was right, you had fallen asleep in the living room on one of the couches, not wanting to disturb Mammon’s sleep in your bed. Sure, you could’ve probably used greed’s own bed in return but…that didn’t feel right. However, when you fully opened your eyes, you were confused to find you were in your own room. Had you come here half-asleep or something? Or did… You raised your head, sitting up, or at least trying to sit up. Something, or someone was holding onto you. Actually, as your senses began to clear, multiple someone’s seemed to be keeping you in their grasp. Mammon was where you had left him on your bed, now to your left, holding your wrist in his hand. Belphie was to your direct right, clinging to your side. Beel was somehow right next to his twin, managing to fit himself on the small sliver of mattress that remained. Then there was Levi…curled up over all four of you, sleeping over the covers directly on your legs, wrapped up in the blanket you’d left for him. Satan was propped up against the wall at your feet, Wrath’s legs curled up to leave room for Asmo. The fifth and fourth-born were leaning against each other, keeping each other from falling over, a blanket loosely draped over the both of them. And then there was the eldest…seated in a chair beside the overstuffed bed, leaning forward to keep his back from touching the support of the seat, one of his arms outstretched, resting over both of the twins, his hand somehow managing to find yours in this mess of limbs. When they had gotten here, how they had gotten here, how you had ended up here, you had no clue. They were all asleep again though, still in the process of recovering. You had half a mind to wake all of them up, giving them a stern reminder on what it means to stay in bed! 
But no…you couldn’t do that. Not now. You’d let them have this moment, even if you were impossibly warm from all the body heat. Not that you could exactly break free from these demonic binds nor could you carry them back to their rooms. They had all probably come in one-by-one. You chuckled to yourself at the sheer ridiculousness of it, at all of them. “Sleep well, all of you,” you whispered. “Feel better soon.” 
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mottinthepot18 · 10 months
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Another commission for the wonderful @i-can-even-burn-salad <3 posting here instead of my whump blog because this is my art blog… I should probably start using it like one lol
Commission sheet can be found here
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serickswrites · 4 months
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Stay. Please.
Warnings: kidnapping, captivity, torture, restraints, forced to watch, self sacrifice, broken bones, bruises, blood, unconsciousness, rescue, hospital, hurt/aftermath, hurt/recovery
The bruises beneath Smallest Teammate's eyes were so pronounced, Teammate One had never seen them so dark. As far as Teammate One was aware, Smallest Teammate had yet to go to sleep since Teammate Two and them had found Smallest Teammate. And Team Leader.
Team Leader lay completely still in the hospital bed. Their face was bruised and still swollen, but improving. The ventilator whirred and hissed quietly, the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor were all things that told Teammate One that Team Leader was still alive.
Because they should be dead.
Finding Smallest Teammate standing in cuffs in Whumper's compound had been jarring. Finding Team Leader covered in blood, unconscious, and hanging like a dead weight in chains just one cell over had been an entirely different feeling. Teammate One was so convinced that Team Leader was dead that they hadn't wanted to go in there. Hadn't wanted to confirm that their friend was dead. Their fear had them frozen. They couldn't move. Couldn't bear to see or think that they had failed Team Leader once more.
Teammate Two's voice came from Smallest Teammate's cell. But Teammate One couldn't hear Teammate Two's voice over the blood roaring in their ears. Couldn't hear Smallest Teammate's begging and pleading as they shoved past Teammate One to Team Leader's body. Couldn't hear Smallest Teammate's sobs as they desperately tried to get Team Leader's body down from the chains.
But they did hear Smallest Teammate's cry of delight. "They're alive. We need help. Please! Stay with me, Team Leader Stay. Please."
The words had Teammate One springing into action. They were moving without thinking. Team Leader was alive. Needed help. They could help Team Leader.
And Team Leader had stayed alive. They had stayed alive to make it to the hospital. Stayed alive through the emergency surgery that the medical team wasn't sure they would live through. Had stay alive with three broken ribs, a skull fracture, countless cuts, and burns. Team Leader had stayed alive.
"It should be me," Smallest Teammate finally whispered.
"What?" Teammate One couldn't be sure they heard Smallest Teammate right. Smallest Teammate hadn't spoken in days.
Smallest Teammate never looked up from Team Leader's face. Never stopped stroking Team Leader's hand that they clutched in both of theirs. "It should be me. Whumper," Smallest Teammate sniffed, "Whumper had wanted to hurt me. Wanted to do everything that happened to Team Leader to me. But Team Leader wouldn't let them. Wouldn't let Whumper hurt me. So I had to watch. I had to watch as Team Leader was tortured to death. Instead of me." They began to sob.
Teammate One sat down next to Smallest Teammate and put a hand on their shoulders. "It's ok. It's ok. You're both ok."
Smallest Teammate shook their head. "It is not ok. I owe them my life. I'll spend my whole life trying to pay them back. And it won't be enough."
Teammate One stared at Team Leader's face. "Somehow, I think Team Leader would rather you be in this chair than them. I think they won't see it your way. But we all owe Team Leader so much."
Smallest Teammate nodded. "Stay with me, please?"
Teammate One gave Smallest Teammate's shoulders a squeeze. "Sure."
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bltzgore · 7 months
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I doth drabble...
Background info:
Whumpee is being held at the base of a group of whumpers (maybe for interrogation, or ransom, or maybe just entertainm). There is this sort of arena where some of the whumpers like to take turns beating whumpee in the cement floor. This scene comes on the tail end of one of those beatings.
Tw: broken bones (specifically ribs), collapses lungs, blood in the lungs, bruising, strong language, mentions of sci-fi augments, pain relief drugs
Laying on their stomach was brutal. Whumpee wasn't sure they still had a fully intact rib left in their torso. But they were exhausted. This round had only gone three hours, not the shortest, but hardly the longest they'd suffered through.
This didn't change how horrendously the position they were laying in made their entire chest burn, and their lungs practically spasm with the strain.
They needed to move. They needed to breath properly.
So, Whumpee began to arrange their hands against the ground, well, one of their hands. Their left shoulder had stopped working right since the particularly vicious handling whumpee had received about an hour and a half into this session.
Still, they worked against the shaking of their right arm and pressed up. Slowly, they shifted the weight off their abused chest cavity and were rewarded with a fuller breath.
Whumpee was figuring out which way to let themselves back down when there was a sudden pressure on their back that dissuped the careful architecture of their current position.
Whumpee crashed back onto their stomach. The second they made contact with the floor, their world went black. Their mouth gaped in a scream, but their lungs were on fire. Nothing left their mouth but a strained wheeze like sob.
The world pieced itself back together in patches, their vision crept back at a snails pace, as they tried to handle the shock and the lack of oxygen.
The pressure, which had now been identified as Whumpers foot, pressed down harder, making whumpee gasp and immediately regret it, siezing up with rabid heavy tears. The less oxygen their body got the more it struggled, forcing whumpee to squirm and aggravate almost all their existing injuries in the process.
Whumper grinned, "That's right, you fuckin' worm." They dug the toe of their boot into whumpee's back.
Whumpee's spine arched, and their face contorted. They felt their ribs scraping together and displacing, stabing new holes into their lungs, crushing into everything they were supposed to protect.
"Can't even scream." Whumper laughed, deep and satisfied, "how pathetic can you get?"
Whumpee's vision was fraying at the edges, pain lighting up every corner of their body as they writhed under the pressure. Whumper was right, they were a worm.
Whumper removed their boot and let whumpee breathe, unconscious creatures were no fun.
Whumpee tried to breathe in. They tried so hard, but they couldn't breathe deep enough to get their vision to clear. They could at least stay awake though. That was something, right?
Tears ran down whumpee's face without permission, whumper sneered, and pulled whumpee's head up by their hair. "Damn, you look awful. With that many broken bones, maybe it'd be more humane to put you down." They laughed at their own joke, "You want that little worm? Want me to make it all stop?"
Whumpee blinked heavily as their view of whumper cycled through degrees of blur. They weren't sure they wanted to hear themselves answer that question.
Whumper had opened their mouth to continue when from across the room-
"Hey! The hell are you doing? The boss said 'e needs 'em alive, dumbass."
Whumper dropped their grip on whumpee's hair and stood, turning to go address the source of the voice. "I wasn't actually gonna do it, caretaker."
"The hell you weren't." They muttered, then more directly, "You're time is up anyway, get the fuck out you freak."
Whumper sighed, "Yeah yeah." And started off. "Patch 'em up better this time, maybe then they won't break so easy." Heading out through the door.
Caretaker growled something more obscene than usual and climbed up onto the arena floor. They knelt next to whumpee, who was trying to move again, lacking the lung capacity to cry properly.
Caretaker set the makeshift medical kit down and gently drew whumpee off the floor, taking the weight mercifully off their torso. They shifted how they were sitting just enough to lean whumpee's back against their chest to keep the weight pressing against bones that weren't as damaged.
They could feel all of the small movements whumpee's muscles were making in their failing attempts to protect themselves. All of the light twitching of muscle that had been pushed to their brink. They could feel whumpee trying to breathe. Stuttering, wheezing, shaking.
With the gentle treatment, whumpee's body had a free moment to remember the fluid building up in their lungs. Whumpee tried to cough, and it was hell. A spray of red on the cement floor and their world went white. Their sobbing picked up enough to just be heard over the wheezing. But their body didn't take the hint, it just wanted to expel the collecting blood.
"I know, kid, I know." Caretaker soothed, holding them up with one arm and rooting through their medical supplies with the free hand. It stopped on the cool glass of the syringe and brought it out. Caretaker closed their teeth on the cap and tugged it off. "This'll help, just hold on for me." They forced the needle into whumpee's arm and pressed down the plunger, sending the clear liquid in, to work its magic.
As it took effect caretaker layed them back on the floor for assessment.
A gentle warmth slowly traveled through whumpee, pooling in places where the pain was heaviest, and making it hard to think. That was ok with whumpee though, they didn't want to think anymore. Not about the agony, not about the hopelessness, not about how they had almost said yes to whumper.
Whumpee felt a hand on their cheek, thumb carefully brushing away a new tear. They leaned into it, and whimpered. The only soft touch in weeks. "Evrything h-hurts." They whispered.
Caretaker felt their heart clench, but they kept it out of their voice, "I know, kid. I'm gonna fix it."
Caretaker started by investigating what was clearly going to be the biggest problem. The ribs. So they carefully drew up whumpee's shirt. Holy shit. What had whumper been thinking?!
Whumpee's skin was a galaxy of black and blue, with sick undertones of yellow and un-oxygenated red. When their chest rose it rose wrong, there were inconsistencies... dents, in the usual contours of the ribcage, and places that reshuffled themselves as they moved.
For a moment, Caretaker was paralyzed. This was such a mess. They weren't even sure how many ribs could be saved. They were going to have to open up and replace, and they barely even knew how to- caretaker shut down the spiral. They needed to think clearly... as clearly as they could.
First, the things they knew they could do. Drain the blood from the lungs and the air from the chest cavity. Then, they could worry about reconstruction. Because that's what this was going to require, if whumpee was going to live, much less live through another one of the doubtlessly impending beatings whumper or whumper 2 was going to give them the moment caretaker stepped away they needed to open-
Caretaker caught the spiral again, focusing back on their breathing, slowing it.
"It's bad-" They stopped for a few half breaths, blinking slowly, and looking up through half lidded eyes, "isn't it?"
Caretaker looked down at whumpee. They hadn't realized it had shown. They hadn't meant to let it slip. But they wouldn't lie, "Yeah, whumpee. It's bad."
"Am I- g-gonna?" They couldn't say it.
"No." Caretaker was sure this time, "Not if I can help it."
"I-its gonna h-urt though, i-isn't it?"
"Yes."
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Corroded Wire
(Renamed Storage Closet lmao)
Mind The Warnings
Plink
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