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mattodore · 10 months

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100 questions with Matthias | playlist, pinterest | ←

1. What common traits do you share with your oc? What about them is the least like you?

Hm… I think Matthias and I are similar in that we’re both all-in when it comes to love, but I think just about every other aspect of Matthias’s personality and life are different from mine. Or, I hope so... lmao.

2. Do you think you would get along with your oc if you could meet them? What things would you talk about?

Absolutely not. I would be calling for this man’s beheading online. He wouldn’t like me either (let it be clear that he doesn’t like much of anyone, though). If we had to have a conversation I’d maybe listen to his thoughts on literature or history. I like listening to people much more intelligent than myself talking about the things that interest them. I wouldn’t be able to keep up with him, though.

3. How competent would your oc be in a survival situation? Would they be better off on their own or in a group?

Incredibly competent. Matthias is a savant with huge swaths of knowledge touching on a countless number of subjects, has analytical prowess, is strong and sturdy, manipulative, charming, and a natural born leader. He has all the makings of a solid survivor and could wind up on the other side of any survival scenario as the head of some fucked up cult, honestly, but…. If the situation in question is dire or inconvenient enough he’s simply not going to bother. He’d let someone else kill him off without putting up a fight. And I’d say he’s better in a group just because he needs people to make him feel real.

4. Is your oc a daredevil, or more of a scaredy cat? What is the most daring thing they’ve done in their life?

Daredevil. Matthias has little value for his own life and often winds up doing some rather outrageous things in order to feel anything other than the numbness he's used to. I think the most daring thing he’s ever done has to be blackmailing the headmaster of his boarding school just because of the sheer gall of it.

5. What is your oc’s patience like? When waiting for something, are they able to sit still or do they fidget? How do they fidget?

Matthias is never in any kind of rush. He leans and lounges and sprawls. He doesn’t move much, but I think he does have a certain lofty demeanor about himself when he’s waiting that’s reminiscent of a big cat swishing its tail and flicking its ear; if he’s crossing his legs you’ll see his foot sort of dip and swish while he’s waiting… he taps his forefinger on his temple… and he stares very intensely.

6. How much thought does your oc put into what they wear/look like? Any reason why?

Matthias pretty much figured out what worked best for him when he was a teenager and has stuck with it since then. He has a simple skin care routine and only uses a few hair care products, so it’s not something he has to put much thought into anymore as it’s all just rote memory now.

In terms of his clothing, he’s not very adventurous and knows what already works versus what doesn’t. He gravitates toward pieces that flatter his physique while also remaining in a color palette more suitable to his tastes (he likes plain clothing without logos or lettering and wears blacks, grays, whites, and darker shades).

But Matthias also has a dermatologist, a stylist, and a personal trainer on retainer… he could always get them on the line if he needed to.

7. Does your oc collect anything? What about knowledge or facts? How big is their collection?

No material possessions, but he does seek out knowledge, if that counts? He also owns a lot of books, but not because he’s collecting them on purpose… he just reads a lot.

8. What kind of flavors does your oc like? How much spice can they handle?

I think he likes both sweet and bitter flavors the most. He’s used to eating a wide array of foods, so I don’t think there’s any flavor he doesn’t like exactly. Matthias can’t handle spice at all, though, which is a shame because he does actually like the flavor. Theo finds this to be very funny, by the way… he thinks Matthias is cute when he’s trying to play off how badly the food is getting to him while drinking water in these precise, measured gulps that’re meant to be subtle but just make it all the more obvious that he’s kind of dying. His ears and the back of his neck go all red while eating spicy food.

9. How easily does your oc trust others? Any particular reason why? How trustworthy are they themselves?

Matthias doesn’t trust easily at all. I think it’s partly because he never had anyone to trust in those development years of his childhood, but also partly because of the way in which his mother shipped him off to a reformation school to be abused and tortured and then essentially abandoned him there. Even despite never being close with his mother or even particularly loving her… he still knew that there was something meant to be there between a mother and their child that was… betrayed. So he finds it nearly impossible to give his trust over to another person, especially because he hides so much of his real desires, impulses, and personality from the world. Imani is the first person to ever gain that trust and the only person after to get it from Matthias is Theo.

As for himself… it depends on who you are. If it’s Imani or Theo that are putting their trust in him, then they can be assured that they will never have to doubt him. If it’s someone else, however… he’s only trustworthy when it suits him and his little games. He lies a lot just for the hell of it, cheats often, and amuses himself with the power of holding secrets. Do not trust this man.

10. What are some of your oc’s pet peeves? How do they handle it when the annoyance doesn’t stop?

Matthias was trained in etiquette for years, and despite frequent participation in debauchery as an adult, and a strong distaste for rules, some of his training has stuck with him regardless. That is to say that poor table manners make him feel homicidal. Open mouthed chewing and talking with your mouth full has to be what he finds the most atrocious, especially as it nearly makes him nauseous. His way of handling these annoyances is to simply leave without another word, no matter how important the conversation or the person having it with him is.

11. Does your oc have a good sense of direction? Do they get lost easily?

Matthias has a very good memory (a detriment, really, considering how much there is in his life that he’d really like to forget) and a good sense of direction follows that naturally. He hardly ever gets lost.

12. How well would your oc handle being placed in a leadership position?

Like a fish to water. Matthias has lived his whole life placed at the top of the food chain and leading the pack already. He takes up that space with grace. But does he actually want it? Well… no, he’s rather bored of it now. He wants someone to follow instead but so few people are deserving of his devotion…

13. What is your oc’s confidence like? Are they self-confident to the point of being arrogant? Are they terribly self-deprecating?

Matthias has the confidence of a man who has never found himself to be intellectually inferior to anyone and has only ever stood above everyone else. He’s arrogant and disdainful. Comes with the turf that he also likes himself a great deal… he’s prideful to an irritatingly high degree unless you’re into that sort of thing.

14. What is your oc’s speech like? How loud are they usually? Do they have an accent or a stutter?

Matthias is silver-tongued. He enunciates every word carefully and speaks very precisely. He speaks confidently and never mumbles or stutters. However, if he lets his mind wander or slip (whether aided by intoxication or just simple distraction) his Polish accent—which was trained away when very young—slips through the cracks. You can hear his accent most notably over the letter “a” in words (Bambi becomes Bahmbi, for instance… which I mentioned months ago but now there’s the added context that this is his nickname for Theo… grins a little).

15. What is your oc’s memory like? Do they remember certain things better than others? Do they have any strategies to better remember things?

Perhaps it’s because of how regularly he exercised his mind from a very young age, but Matthias’s memory is astounding. More than anything, though, what his memory latches onto most is violence. The traumas of his teenage years have followed him like a second shadow. His dreadful nightmares are fueled by just how much he remembers of his time at the reformation school he was sent to from ages 15-18.

16. How affectionate is your oc? How do they convey their affection? By being touchy, or through more subtle ways?

Platonically? He’s very warm with Imani. He often holds out his arm to her so she can place her hand on his bicep as they take walks in the morning. I don’t think they verbally affirm to one another how much they love and care for each other, but that’s mostly just because they already know they do from over a decade of friendship. Plus, Imani kind of has a hard time accepting love from others, so that’s also why Matthias doesn’t speak to his love for her as his dearest friend.

Romantically? Matthias is always showing his affection and love for Theo openly and without shame. He meets Theo’s needs exactly where they are, seeing in Theo just how badly he needs to be reassured and pursued, even when Theo is still trying to deny himself what he desires. Matthias conveys his affection most through words of affirmation and acts of service. He’s always in Theo’s ear whispering about how his heart beats through Theo’s or how nice he’ll be to and for Theo, how good… how he’d crawl for him… he’s incredibly devoted and Theo is very aware of that fact. Make no mistake, though, Matthias is also affectionate in other ways as well. He’s incredibly tactile with Theo, because Theo’s most comforted by the physical reassurance that Matthias is there to catch him, you know? If Theo falls, he’s got him. Matthias also isn’t shy about voicing how badly he wants Theo either. Time and place don’t matter to him at all when faced with Theo’s presence (or, even, the absence of his presence; Matthias wants him all the time). Matthias would let Theo do anything to him. He could ask anything of him.

17. How polite is your oc? Do they know how to act in a formal situation? How would they *actually* act in a formal situation?

Matthias is… hm. Generally speaking, he’s polite, but it’s not exactly… sincere. He’s all charm and pretense, I mean… he’s just following the social contract to get what he wants. In formal situations, he’s the picture perfect gentleman. He has a lot of experience from etiquette lessons to cotillions and has undergone rigorous training in boarding school to ensure infallible success in the upper echelons of society.

18. How physically strong is your oc? Is their agility or endurance better?

Matthias is very strong. You can tell just by looking at him that he’s strapping. His muscles aren’t the kind that are just for show… he’s thick all over and isn’t concerned about having a movie star six pack. He wants real, animalistic strength. He wants to ensure he’s never put in a situation where he can’t protect himself ever again. And I’d say his endurance is better than his agility by nature of having previously undergone a lot of forced labor. Plus, he’s had to adapt and has a high pain tolerance now that he’s in his twenties, so aside from, like, pretty high stamina, his actual ability to endure pain itself is high.

19. What is your oc’s creative skillset? Music, drawing, writing, dancing, etc.? Or are they lacking creativity entirely?

Hm. I think he’s not very… imaginative? Creatively, I think Matthias is very much someone who just sees what’s there… he doesn’t draw from it and add on, you know what I mean? He does some art, but it’s observational realism. He sketches landscapes almost exclusively (in fact, it’s one of the things he does in the mornings). He has a lot of free time not only because of the nature of his lifestyle but also because of how little he sleeps… so he’s had a lot of time to practice and is good at it. He’s trained in ballroom dancing but he’s not explored any other kinds of dance and doesn’t try letting loose any other way. He can play the viola and the piano (as he’s legally required to do as a fictional rich love interest™), but doesn’t compose his own pieces. He’s not a writer, surprisingly, despite reading obsessively… I don’t believe he’s ever even tried writing himself. Well, he does journal, on occasion, but that’s just drawing from his real life… his imagination is stilted. One could draw the conclusion that this is perhaps because of the childhood he had or a result of trauma… hm. Take your pick.

20. Does your oc have any favorite games to pass the time? What other hobbies do they have?

Well… he plays mind games, if you count those. He likes messing with people. Other hobbies… well, what I just mentioned in the previous question, for starters. Hm… I think he treats sex as a hobby. He reads a lot and always has. Birdwatching. Going on walks. I think he’s pretty boring, honestly. Sorry, Matthias. No, um… I really think he just… appreciates the world. It sounds weird to say, considering he’s rather nihilistic… but I feel as though his nihilism actually plays a part in why he just… sits back and appreciates what’s there, because what else is there? The birds in the trees, the rising and setting of the sun, the movement of his body while dancing, the base pleasures of his sexual appetite… yeah. That’s what life is. Experiencing it is his hobby, I suppose.

21. Is your oc expressive, or would they rather conceal their emotions? What are their typical expressions like?

Matthias isn’t very expressive. Sure, he smirks and offers an inscrutable smile, but… he’s hardly ever actually expressing his true emotions or thoughts. I’d say he normally has an intense, persistent stare no matter which mask he’s wearing for the evening. If he smiles, it doesn’t meet his eyes. He’ll raise a brow if he’s amused, and his mouth will quirk, but he never fully laughs—not easily, at least. You’d have to work very hard to earn a laugh from him.

22. How easily does your oc fare in the sun? Do they tan or burn easily? Are they completely unaffected?

Matthias wears sunscreen every day and is meticulous about reapplying it. If he tans, it’s very light. Mostly he just burns. Trust that he complains about this all the time to Imani as she’s often the one with him while poolside. She thinks it’s hilarious, because even when they were kids he’d burn along the bridge of his nose just from being out for a handful of hours in the courtyard of their boarding school.

23. How graceful is your oc? Are they elegant in their movements, or more clumsy?

Matthias is poised and confident in his movements and commands attention through them. He glides gracefully around the room when he’s entertaining guests and mingling. His tread is light, despite his size, and he has a tendency to creep up on people when they’re not looking. The way he moves is unsettling to some who’re watching on the outskirts, because it often appears as if he’s prowling.

24. Is your oc a romantic, or are they grossed out by the simple mention of anything romantic?

Oh, Matthias is a true romantic when he finds someone worthy of his affection. Or, rather than just his affection, should I say his absolute devotion? He worships at Theo’s feet. He’d debase himself just for a rare glimpse of Theo’s smile. He’s at Theo’s beck and call.

Additionally, Matthias would never be disgusted by any of his desires or urges as he doesn’t let society dictate how he feels about anything; rather, the more his desires deviate from what society at large deems acceptable, the more he’d delight in them. So the love he feels is something he exalts, even when it skews off in jagged directions.

25. How stubborn is your oc? Are they open to considering different options or opinions, or are they more closed off?

Matthias is pretty stubborn, I think. He values his own opinions above all others. He’ll move only if he’s been proved wrong or outsmarted… which is something that always gives him a delicious little thrill. He loves meeting people who can get the better of him.

26. How does your oc sleep? Do they move around a lot? What position does your oc normally sleep in? What are their typical bedding arrangements like?

Matthias is an insomniac and gets very little sleep. When he does sleep… hm… I think he doesn’t move around much unless it’s to accommodate someone else in the bed with him (Theo…). Matthias sleeps on his back using one pillow under his head. He doesn’t like feeling constricted, so he sleeps naked with only a sheet covering his body, his comforter put away in the storage bench at the foot of his bed and only brought back out to make the bed in the morning.

27. What is your oc’s sleep schedule like? Are they a night owl, an early morning riser, or do they get any sleep at all?

Matthias likes the mornings best. I think he normally manages to get some sleep in at around 11AM-1PM in the day. Theo actually helps him fall asleep… Matthias will lay his head in Theo’s lap while Theo’s studying and the motion of Theo’s fingers carding through his hair will put him to sleep like a child with warm milk. His nightmares ease around Theo.

28. How organized is your oc? How important is organization to your oc?

Matthias is very efficient and organized. It’s personally very important to him to keep his area clean as it was a habit he developed in boarding school.

29. If a perfume was to be made to represent your oc, what sorts of smells would be included in it?

I think Matthias’s signature fragrance is already a good enough representation of who he is. He wears Francis Kurkdjian’s Oud Extrait de parfum. A strong scent that’s spicy and rich with saffron notes that’re soft and leathery. He smells warm and masculine without being ostentatious.

30. How caring/empathetic is your oc? Are they the type to immediately adopt and protect others, or are they a true sadist?

Matthias has very little empathy for people who aren’t of his concern. I wouldn’t go so far as to call him a true sadist… but he does have violent urges and enjoys toying with people. He’s protective of children and teenagers, though… it’s not something often seen, as he has no reason to be around younger people, but… Imani’s seen it first hand with her younger brother.

31. What inspired the creation of your oc? Any specific things, a general aesthetic or idea, or something completely random?

Theo. I’ve talked about this over here, but Matthias as a character exists because of Theo. His actual appearance is meant to contrast Theo’s. His life is meant to mirror Theo’s. His personality is both a mix of hard differences and similarities to Theo’s.

32. How judgemental is your oc? Do they keep an open mind about people, or are they the type to judge a book by its cover?

Matthias isn’t actually all that judgy. I mean, he definitely looks down his nose at people, but that’s hardly their fault. I’d say he’s open minded, but he’s also a lofty asshole.

33. What five objects or things could be expected to be found on your oc’s person at any time? Why?

Matthias doesn’t have material possessions that he feels he has to carry around at all times.

But… I suppose he’d have his phone on him, a watch on his wrist, and his driving gloves tucked away in his back pocket. He doesn’t have a wallet, but he does have a card he’ll carry in one of his pockets. He doesn’t carry keys, as he has people who’ll let him inside his home when he needs to be let in.

When he’s dating Theo, though, he often makes sure he has a hair tie or two on his wrist as well (which does in fact make me feel insane, thanks for asking).

34. Does your oc have a pet? If they could have another one or if they were to get one, what would it be? How well could they care for it?

Surprisingly, yes. Matthias has a cat named Odious. By nature of Matthias being rich, Odious is spoiled, but not exactly by Matthias himself. He’s not very affectionate, but he does like her. She just wandered onto one of the estates and didn’t leave.

35. Does your oc have any distinguishing markings? Scars, tattoos, birthmarks, freckles, etc?

Matthias has a very noticeable scar on his chin from a decanter his mother threw at his face when he was fifteen years-old. I do think he’d have more scars on his body from the three years he spent at a reformation boarding school, but I haven’t yet decided where or to what extent the scarring goes. He has no birthmarks, freckles, moles, or tattoos otherwise.

36. What is your oc’s fight or flight response like? What sorts of things provoke it the most?

Matthias is the fight response without question, but it takes a lot to get him to break and resort to it. Matthias has an impeccable amount of control over his own impulses and can hold off on reacting for a long time. But when his control snaps and he turns violent, it’s most likely a response to Theo getting hurt in some way. He has very little control when it comes to Theo.

37. How does your oc handle heavy stress? Do they have any specific coping mechanisms? Are they healthy or not?

Matthias gives the impression of being impenetrable, but I do think stress is something he feels. If he’s stressed, it’s most likely because of mental challenges he’s facing. As for coping mechanisms for it… he probably doesn’t have any, just by nature of stress being something he chooses to ignore most of the time. Hm… I can’t imagine he’d handle it any differently than how he normally handles his other challenges: with wine, sex, and a crowd of murmuring bodies.

38. What does your oc do to relax? Any specific activities? Why?

By all means, Matthias definitely seems as if he’d be pretty relaxed, but he’s actually on edge a fair amount. His insomnia gets pretty awful at times and he has audible hallucinations. The best way he’s found to deal with it is to relax outside, listening to the sound of the birds and letting the breeze ease the fevered rush of noise his mind tries tricking him with. He doesn’t live close to people at all, so he knows the hallucinations aren’t real (mostly, he hears screaming)… still, it’s not like he enjoys them. He views it as a weakness of his.

39. Does your oc have any nicknames? What are the origins of them? If they don’t, can you come up with some possible ones?

Matthias doesn’t like when his name is shortened, so he doesn’t have any nicknames based on his actual name. Hm... Imani calls him baby whenever she’s making fun of him, if that counts? It’s not really a nickname, though, but whatever. Theo doesn’t use nicknames with Matthias, I don’t think, but Matthias would go crazy for it if Theo ever did. He’d do anything to hear Theo call him his pet… I’d bet he fantasizes about it all the time. I’m sure he’s probably coaxed Theo into calling him a few nicknames during sex, though, so there's that.

40. What languages does your oc know? Are there any they want to learn but haven’t had the chance to? How good are they at picking up new ones?

Matthias is a polyglot. He can speak and write in Polish (and can generally understand a handful of other Slavic languages), English, Spanish, and French. He also knows ASL.

Matthias wants to be able to read as many languages as he can. Right now he’s learning Mandarin but is in the early stages of memorization. He’ll probably start working toward learning either Arabic or Hindi next… I’m not sure. He likes Arabic poetry (the translated forms he’s read) a lot, so that’s probably what he’ll gravitate toward.

41. What was the worst injury your oc ever suffered? Has it had any long lasting impact on them?

His worst injury has to be the broken ribs and punctured lung he got while he was at the reformation school. It’s the source of one of his most frequent nightmares.

42. Is your oc an optimist or a pessimist? Any particular reason why?

I’m honestly not sure that Matthias goes either which way. Everything is so… nothing to him that not even I can say how he feels in concrete terms. I don’t think he feels like there’s going to be better days ahead! or that everything is awful and will be awful forever. He’s just… apathetic.

43. How important are the rules to your oc? Do they follow them to a t, or do they enjoy breaking them?

Matthias has never seriously cared about rules and in actuality spurns them. The only time he observes them is when he can use them to his advantage or because he’s had to in order to ensure his safety.

44. How violent is your oc? Or are they more of a pacifist? To what lengths will they go to start/avoid a conflict?

Well… he’s had violent urges since he was very young. He doesn’t act on them hardly ever (now, at least), but they are there in his mind. And Matthias doesn’t avoid conflict per se, but there’s very little that he views as worthy of his attention in that way. He gets mad for a time, sure, but then he lets it go. When he does act on his urges, it’s… well. It gets bloody fast. He kind of lets it all out at once.

45. How is your oc around animals? What about children?

Matthias is stilted with animals, including his pet cat. He talks to her like she’s a fully grown human person… he pets her a few times on the head and then pats her bum and tells her to go on her way. It’s a little funny, in my opinion.

Matthias doesn’t really hang out in circles where children are present hardly ever, but when he is around them I think Matthias is surprisingly soft. He’s gentle with them and talks to them like they’re his equal; he doesn’t use baby talk or dismiss them. Kids really like him because of that. Matthias treats children and teenagers better than any of the adults in his life ever treated him.

46. Does your oc lie a lot, or is the truth very important to them? What is their reaction to other people lying to them?

Matthias thinks lying is fun, lmao. He only considers the truth to be important when he’s talking to people that he views as respectable. If he cares about you, he’s probably not going to lie to you. Perhaps it’s because of how good of a liar Matthias is, but he can see through lies eerily well. So when other people lie to him… hm. I think he enjoys it, because you can learn so much about people based on what they chose to lie about. He finds that fascinating.

He doesn’t like when Theo lies to him, though. Not about the important things at least, like Theo’s safety. It’s what Theo lies about the most to him.

47. How much of a prankster is your oc? Are their pranks truly evil, or more harmless, positive ones?

He doesn’t pull pranks. He thinks they’re simpleminded and uninspired. He can think of much more exciting ways to mess with people.

48. What are your oc’s nervous tics? Are they aware of them? Do they attempt to hide them?

When Matthias is nervous he’ll thumb at the scar on his chin. He catches himself doing it occasionally, but I don’t think he’s ever been aware of why exactly he does it. He stops himself when he realizes he’s going through the motions, though. He thinks the impulsivity of it is inelegant.

49. What would be the perfect gift for your oc? What would be their reaction to receiving it?

I’m honestly not sure. Matthias doesn’t necessarily care about material possessions, so you couldn’t really buy him something and expect much of a reaction from him for it. But I’m also not sure if there’s anything sentimental that would move him either. So not something made for him or something bought… but maybe something personal that belonged to you at some point. Hm. I think he’d let the mask slip and he’d offer a smile… a genuine thank you. He’d be fascinated by the choice of gift… it’d be different from what he’d expect someone to give him and it’d thrill him in that way.

50. How attentive is your oc? How perceptive are they? How easily do they get distracted?

Matthias models his behaviors off of others, so he’s attentive and watches closely. I think he’s perceptive, but not as much as his gaze might lead you to believe. Matthias can get caught up in his own orbit. His haughtiness gets in the way sometimes, so he slips when he’s having his ego stroked… it’s the best time to get one past him. Theo uses this to his advantage when he’s prevaricating and trying to avoid being caught lying.

51. If your oc was to receive an award for something, what would it most likely be for? Have they received any awards in the past?

Matthias has received numerous kinds of academic awards while in school. He’s also won awards for his manners and dancing in his etiquette lessons. No specific award I’d give him… not seriously, at least.

52. In what ways does your oc cope with anger? How easily angered are they? Do they lash out?

Matthias used to be a lot more aggressive when he was younger and was stubbornly argumentative, but he learned to control his… not anger, exactly, but his derision, as a natural consequence of physical violence at the reformation school he went to in his late teens. Matthias does get angry, but… he lets it go if it’s not actually worth his time. If you’ve pissed him off, he’ll give this tight, inscrutable smile and his eyes will glint once in warning before his features will smooth back over. He’ll keep staring until you get uncomfortable and look away first, change the subject, or leave. But if he’s actually furious over something that he can’t just ignore… he lashes out like a viper. You’ll get dizzy from how severely he dresses you down. Or he’ll hurt you, if your offense is grievous enough. I don’t think he’d be quick about that, though. He really does enjoy playing with people.

53. If your oc was to host a podcast or TV show, what would it be about? Would your oc actually be good at it? What sorts of guests would appear?

Oh God… Matthias absolutely cannot be given an audience. It would be detrimental to world order or something. Um… but I think he’d do great talking about history or literature… or manipulation tactics. I don’t think he’d have any guests on, though. He’s a one man show.

54. How would you describe your oc’s voice to sound like? Do you have any voice claims for them?

Matthias’s voice is low, cold, and seductive. There’s a gravitas to his voice and an arrogance you can just hear. If you close your eyes while Matthias is speaking, you’ll get the impression that you might need to crane your neck up to look at him… the force of his presence just spills over into every part of him, including his voice. He enunciates the letters in words precisely and has a measured way of speaking that adds a layer of… command to his words.

I don’t have an exact voice claim… but I think his voice would sound like a harsher, deeper version of Michelle Gurevich's in Temptation (especially when Michelle’s voice starts to growl/rasp at the end of her words).

55. How sensitive to loud sound is your oc? Do they prefer constant high background noise, low background noise, or complete silence?

Hm… it depends on what the noise is coming from. He’s used to all kinds of distressing noises. In general, I’d say he prefers low background noise or silence.

56. What is your oc’s favorite color? If you had to choose one color to represent your oc, what would it be and why?

Matthias doesn’t have a favorite color… like, at all. And I’d say silver reflects him well… I can’t say why exactly, it’s just the first color that comes to me when I think of him. Maybe pale blue as well… he’s icy.

57. How good is your oc’s sight? Do they wear glasses? Do they need glasses? Do they have some form of night vision?

Matthias has perfect eyesight. The fucker.

58. How would you describe your oc’s appearance to someone who’s looking for them? What features would be most identifiable?

I think Matthias is actually incredibly easy to spot. I’d tell them to look for the tallest guy in the room who’s pale all over and broad shouldered. I honestly think that would be enough to spot him. I think his pale blond hair is the most identifiable feature he has, especially when light hits it.

59. How good at cooking is your oc? What can they cook/what is their favorite thing to cook?

While Matthias does have staff who’re paid specifically to cook for him, he actually waves them away a lot of the time to do it for himself instead. He’s a good cook. Not, like, Le Cinq level cooking, but he’s good regardless. I think Matthias spends a lot of time practicing things like cooking specifically to impress. He gives off the impression that he’s just innately talented at many things, but that’s by design. He’s actually worked very hard to develop the skills he has. It’s a fun aspect of his character, in my opinion. He seems like he wouldn’t care, but he actually cares a great deal.

(Additionally, being on Matthias’s payroll is pretty cozy, because oftentimes he just ends up doing what the staff are hired to do for himself and the staff still get paid regardless. Putting up with his uncomfortable staring and odd waking hours is worth it in the end.)

60. How good is your oc at keeping track of time? Are they always late, always early, or always right on time?

Time slips away from Matthias frequently. He’s normally late to things, but because of his personality, a lot of people think he’s just being fashionable… he’s not. He genuinely just gets so wrapped up in whatever it is he’s doing that appointments on his schedule slip his mind and he winds up ten minutes late to everything.

61. Is your oc more quick-thinking, or do they take longer to figure things out?

He’s quick-thinking. His mind is agile and connects dots faster than most. But he’s not even half as perceptive as Theo despite having a similarly quick mind.

62. How quick is your oc? Do they have faster or slower reflexes? What things are they quickest at?

He’s both mentally and physically quick. He exercises regularly and boxes, which is something he would hardly be able to do well if he couldn’t react fast. The way he carries himself, his grace and poise, has also aided his reflexes. I think he reacts fastest when catching things… you should see how adeptly he can catch and maneuver Theo’s legs around him when Theo jumps on him.

63. How self-disciplined is your oc? Do they often think before they act, or the other way around?

Matthias is incredibly self-disciplined due to how he grew up and the experiences he had in his teens. He thinks first before acting, without a doubt. The times in which he does act first are always the moments in which his control snaps and he lashes out. He tries to avoid that happening as best as he can.

64. Which of the seven deadly sins does your oc fall under most? What about the seven heavenly virtues?

He’s lust, easily, but pride and wrath speak to him as well.

As for the seven heavenly virtues, the only one I can even entertain for him is patience.

65. If you were to give your oc a new superpower, what would you choose and why? If *they* were to be able to choose, what would it be and why?

I was going to be funny here, but actually… I think I’d give him the ability to sleep whenever he wants. Is that really even a superpower? Probably not. But it’s all just made up anyway, so, sure. He’d have sleeping powers.

On the other hand, I think Matthias would be interested in something that could give him either greater knowledge or a deeper insight into the way people think. Telepathy, maybe? Not, like, mind control, or anything. That’s not very fun for him… he’d want to have to work for it more.

66. What sort of advice would people go to your oc for? What sort of advice is your oc actually good at giving?

I don’t think Matthias has the interest or sensitivity necessary to give people advice. I don’t know… he doesn’t really have many opportunities to try, anyway. I doubt Imani goes to him for advice when she’d rather handle things on her own, and Theo would never ask anyone for anything, especially for help. But I think Matthias would be the kind of person you would go to when you want to indulge. He’d stoke the flames of your passions and persuade you to reach for them rather than staying still.

67. How many people does your oc prefer to be around? A crowd, a few friends, or all on their own?

Matthias prefers to be in crowds of people. He has to feel alive somehow. He lives both because of others and through them.

It’s only when he feels seen and understood through Theo that he begins to reassess and prefer the company of just a few friends and his lover.

68. What sorts of things would cheer your oc up when they’re down? Is your oc sad often, or is it more rare?

Rather than feeling sad exactly, Matthias is more unresponsive. I’d say he has a very childlike sadness buried deep down that he’s carried with him his whole life to the point that he’s now numb to it. Nothing cheers Matthias up, not really. Maybe Theo.

69. How energetic is your oc? Are they constantly tired, or constantly bouncing off the walls?

Matthias is an insomniac, so by nature he’s sort of always tired; however, Matthias has had nearly a decade to adjust and is a master of performance—you would never notice how exhausted he truly is. It’s not that he’s dull or low energy… but he’s languorous. All of his movements are languid and unhurried. Even the way he talks is measured… he draws things out. His actions only pick up if he’s excited by something.

70. What about your oc’s lifestyle would they change if they had the ability? Why?

Nothing.

71. What is your oc’s go-to for offense? What weapon, what style of fighting? Or are words more their weapon of choice?

The personal trainer Matthias has had since he entered his twenties is an ex-boxer, so that’s how Matthias has learned to fight in a more refined, professional capacity. Before that, though, he learned how to fight from hands-on experience at the reformation school… meaning, he fought dirty and there was absolutely nothing off limits. He had to defend himself any way he could. Because of this, Matthias is rather crafty in what he’ll reach for to use in a fight, but he prefers to do it with his bare hands if it’s… a more personal attack.

Matthias actually spars with Sehyuk at times to blow off steam. They’re never fighting to really hurt each other, which is good… Sehyuk could put Matthias out of commission for quite some time if they ever wound up actually fighting. Well, if they were playing clean. If they fought dirty it’d be a toss-up on who’d win. They’re both rather brutal.

72. What is your oc’s ideal environment like? Urban or natural? Fancy or rustic? What’s the weather like?

Matthias enjoys warm weather. He enjoys nature and likes tropical locations or locations that’re at a great distance away from other people. He likes being separate from everyone else at home… it gives him the space to drop the act and be who he really, truly is underneath it all. Space also allows him the clarity of knowing he’s just hearing things when he’s hallucinating. (Though, later this becomes unnecessary when Theo finds out about Matthias’s hallucinations and shows Matthias to record the things he thinks he’s hearing. If they don’t come through the recordings, then he knows they’re not real.)

73. If your oc were to be arrested, what would it most likely be for? Is it justified? Have they actually been arrested before?

Matthias has never actually been arrested, but if he were to be arrested for anything it’d be for public indecency, without question. Justified, obviously, because he’s fucking and sucking everywhere.

74. How would your oc act when drunk? What about when really, really tired?

Matthias is very intense when he’s actually drunk. He’ll stare without talking for a long, unsettling amount of time. He forgets to mind his strength and leaves marks behind if he grabs an arm or a shoulder. He doesn’t shy away from voicing his thoughts, of which he doesn’t filter… meaning he says things that are weird and also deeply disturbing if he’s feeling angry (again, violent thoughts… he’s always had them). Matthias is also direct in a very blunt, unrefined way when he’s drunk—he’s always direct about what he wants, mind you, but normally he’s charming about it. The charm’s gone when he’s intoxicated. He’s incredibly meticulous about never drinking too much because of all of this.

When he hasn’t slept for days, I think he becomes… very quiet. He doesn’t even talk to himself, which is a thing he does frequently when alone (a habit from childhood). I think the softest he ever is is when he’s tired. Theo’s seen him like this a lot. He’ll lay his head down on Theo’s lap and just stare into space. If he speaks, it’s a few words at a time and that’s it. He becomes pliable… he’ll press into Theo’s touch and sigh… he’ll make quiet sounds of discomfort and hurt if Theo tries to shift away or leave. He’s clingy. The hallucinations are incessant if he hasn’t slept for a long time, so… I think that’s why he gets quiet. There’s already too much noise.

75. What would your oc’s dream home be like? How big would it be? What sorts of rooms would be in it? Where would it be located?

He doesn’t really have a dream home. To be clear, Matthias did actually buy himself a large home to his taste shortly after getting his inheritance… but it’s not like he’s attached to it. He doesn’t have that… desire for material things, including for where he lives. He dreams about locations, sure, but the actual house he lives in doesn’t factor into it. He just wants to live somewhere warm and in the heart of nature… he wants to always hear birds outside.

76. What is/was your oc’s relationship with their family like? Was it happy, tense, or abusive? What living family does your oc currently have, if any?

Matthias’s father died when he was fifteen and since then he’s been completely estranged from his mother as well. His relationships with both parents have always been nonexistent. His mother has resented him since birth and his father only saw him as a means to continue his legacy as well as a way to entrap his mother. Physical abuse came with his parents’ marriage, but Matthias is completely unaware of that fact as he was neglected and left on his own for nearly his entire childhood. I’d say he can hardly even recall a handful of instances where he interacted with his parents when he was young. Rather than being under the care of his parents as a child, Matthias was taken care of by the staff of the estate (who had orders not to interact with him more than necessary). He received no love, no praise, and no physical affection. He grew up on silence, literature, and the sounds of the birds in the gardens of his home. After his father promised him the entirety of his wealth in his will, his mother assaulted him physically and then sent him away to a reformation school that psychologically tortured and physically abused him until Imani got him out of there the day he turned eighteen.

77. Does your oc like to wear any particular accessories? Hats, jewelry, scarves, etc.?

The most Matthias wears are his driving gloves and one of his watches.

78. How socially skilled is your oc? Are they good at understanding social cues? How charismatic are they?

Matthias’s social skills are award winning. He’s exceptionally charismatic and well-mannered. Of course, that’s just for show. His grasp on social cues is stilted, but a smile can get him very, very far with that face and all that money.

79. For what reason would your oc turn into a villain? And if they’re already a villain, vice-versa?

Well… I think either way you view this question in relation to Matthias’s character, the answer is going to be because of Theo.

80. What is your oc’s handwriting like? How easy is it to read? Can they write/read cursive?

Matthias’s handwriting is clean and romantic. Huge swooping curves and artistic strokes. You can tell his handwriting has been something he’s worked very hard on perfecting. He writes in cursive most of the time, but not always. His print is sharp and clean, but not as extravagant.

81. How good is your oc at drawing? What is their preferred art medium, and what is their artstyle like?

Matthias is good at drawing. He draws in sketchbooks and prefers simple graphite pencils. His art style is observational realism. (Refer back to #19 for more on this.)

82. What would be your oc’s ultimate dream vacation? Where would they go? Who would they take with them? What would they do?

Whisking Theo away to wherever Theo will allow him to would be Matthias’s dream. Theo has many different responsibilities that he’s bound to… and, really, Matthias just wants to take him away from it all and keep him in bed for days. He wants Theo to rest and act on his own wants and desires for once. He wants Theo to be somewhere safe.

83. What is your oc’s favorite trait about themselves? What about their least liked? What would others like and dislike the most about your oc?

There’s nothing Matthias doesn’t like about himself, honestly. He favors his own intelligence the most.

I think he’s valued by others for his money the most, followed closely by his looks. Most people who haven’t been privy to Matthias with his mask off probably would say they feel uncomfortable when he goes silent and just… stares. If they’ve seen him without the pretense, then his derision is what they dislike most.

84. Is your oc more masculine, feminine, androgynous, or something else entirely?

I think he’s more masculine.

85. What would history remember your oc for? How would they become famous? Or are they the sort that would really only be appreciated long after their death?

In the Echthroi universe? Hm… he doesn’t covet fame in any way, so I can’t imagine it’d be because of anything he himself has willed. Maybe someone snaps a photo of him and posts it online and it blows up? I don’t know… he doesn’t even have any social media himself, so… yeah. I got nothing.

86. What would someone assume about your oc based on their appearance? Would those assumptions be correct?

Matthias has been carefully crafted to look exactly as haughty and duplicitous as he is.

87. What are some of your oc’s physical weak spots? What about emotional/moral ones?

He’s weak to being kissed behind his ears, touched along his spine, and having his head pet or his hair pulled. He’s weak to Theo and Imani… and there’s this small, trembling thing inside him that’s weak to his mother.

88. Does your oc hold grudges? For how long? Does your oc have any rivals?

Hm… I have a hard time imagining him carrying anger with him long enough to foster a grudge (outside of the grudges he has with his mother and the people at the reformation school he went to). I think if he had an issue with someone he’d do something about it rather than stew in it. And by “do something about it” I don’t mean by talking things out.

89. What does your oc’s laugh sound like? How often do they laugh? Are they easily amused?

Sexy. What? Who said that?

No, but Matthias doesn’t genuinely laugh very often. Instead he has this rehearsed laugh that he uses to charm and manipulate in social settings. It sounds nice… breezy and light… a trustworthy kind of laugh.

His real laugh is actually pretty startling. Matthias’s voice is cold and seductive… dripping… but his laughter, when it’s honest and real, is rumbling and comes out at a much lower register. He laughs with his entire diaphragm. You can press your hand to the center of his chest and feel it rumble through your fingers. Theo actually jumped the first time he heard Matthias laugh. Matthias’s laugh is inviting and warm and always makes Theo all flustered. Even if you're immune to Matthias's looks and charm, his real laugh will draw you in.

90. Does your oc have any objects they could never give up? Why is it so important to them? Do they have any family heirlooms?

Matthias doesn’t form attachments to material objects and has nothing he holds on to. He also sees zero value in family heirlooms and his lineage as a whole. I suppose he does still have his family home (and other Evanoff homes) in his possession but he defiles it regularly.

91. What is your oc’s typical posture like? Do they slouch, or stand straight? How much space do they usually take up, both physically and figuratively?

Matthias (like Imani) was forced through years of etiquette lessons and has a very precise bearing with an easy upright posture, standing tall and elegant in the center of any room. He’s both physically large (he’s 6’3” and would potentially have been taller had it not been for his experiences at the reformation school while still growing) as well as figuratively; Matthias has a very… imposing presence and is at ease with himself no matter where he is.

92. What trait does your oc appreciate or admire the most in others? Why?

I believe it’s a three-way tie between intelligence, wit, and viciousness. Matthias doesn’t want to be bored by conversation and he seeks out stimulation and amusement to prevent that.

93. What is your oc’s preferred learning style? Observation, hands-on, instruction? Do they take notes or memorize?

He prefers to learn by himself through reading and observation. Obviously, though, there are some things he can't learn through simple observation and does actually seek those who're better educated to learn from—like his personal trainer and language tutors. He has a very good memory, but he takes notes regardless. He likes the activeness of pen and paper while learning.

94. Does your oc rely more on a logical or emotional mindset? What situations would this be the opposite?

Logical, definitely. Matthias experienced very little emotional output for most of his life and it was only once he truly bonded with Imani that he started to develop more sentimental feelings. When it comes to Theo, however, he becomes almost entirely ruled by emotion… nearly too much of it for him to bear.

95. How is your oc about keeping someone else’s secret? Are they the gossiping type, or do they hold true on their promise to keep things quiet?

He keeps secrets very well. It’s not that he feels especially beholden to keeping his word, but rather that he enjoys knowing that he’s the keeper of a hidden kind of knowledge. That said, when the secrets he’s keeping are on Imani and Theo’s behalf, it becomes much more about a sense of loyalty and love than about… mastery and power, I suppose.

96. Describe your oc in three words. What three words would they use to describe themselves?

I would describe Matthias best as a man who is intimidating, imposing, and impossible.

Matthias would describe himself as detestable, irresistible, and… a mouthful.

97. How old is your oc physically? How old are they in mental maturity? When are they most mature, and when are they the least?

Matthias is in his mid-twenties physically (I think 26-27 is a more solid answer, but nothing’s set in stone). Mentally… it’s complicated. When he was young he had a sort of agelessness about him… it was only when he first entered his teens (and the public) that I believe he began to act more like a real child and then more rapidly like a teenager. Abuse did a number on him, though, late in his teens… He’s both stuck at the ages he was during the worst of the abuse while also seeming older than he actually is. His maturity is best exemplified in crisis situations or when he’s taking care of someone (Theo…). Conversely, his maturity goes down the drain when he’s being stingy or possessive.

98. Is your oc the type to have a lot of fairly good friends, have a small group of close friends, have one or two best friends, or have no friends at all? Who are they closest to?

Matthias only has one best friend and that’s Imani, who is also the first friend he ever made (they've been friends since they were eleven and twelve, respectively). He’s also friends with Sehyuk but they aren’t particularly close. His relationship with Sehyuk is... one of convenience, I'd say, but they do have an interesting bond... Matthias is able to fully be himself around Sehyuk, which is rare for him.

99. What is your oc’s morning routine usually like? What do they eat for breakfast (if they have breakfast)? What time do they usually get up in the morning?

Matthias is an insomniac so most mornings he’s not actually waking up but rather was already there waiting for the sun to rise. Matthias will sit outside with coffee and a book in the morning and listen to the birds. If he’s having breakfast it’s most likely something light that compliments his coffee.

100. Does your character ever swear? How often? How vulgar is their swearing?

In casual conversation I’d say he doesn’t often swear since he’s more imaginative than just saying “fuck you” or similar phrases, but if he does swear in conversation he’s most likely doing it in Polish (pierdol się is easily what he says most). When he’s in someone’s ear talking dirty, however, he’s vulgar to the point of pearl clutching on his partner’s part.

#posting matthias's first since it's like 2k shorter than theo's #river dipping #ts4 #matthias evanoff #echthroi #a burning house to live in #oc extras #s: echthroi #cw domestic abuse mention #(<- briefly mentioned in one sentence and it's between his parents!! forgot to tag this)#cw child abuse mention #adding links to mattodore's playlists because i think they really set the mood while reading about them like this #plus links to their boards which i think make a lot more sense after you've read their answers...#also after going through theo's answers i'm actually a little bothered by how brief matthias's are in comparison...#theo favoritism is very real and effects all of us. so true.#i'm just going to leave matthias's answers as is but maybe i'll come back and add onto them later on... shrugs #also can you even tell that i changed matthias a little... i kept the forehead shading and then lengthened his brows #and made his nose a little bit bigger...#didn't resize the new photos i've taken of mattodore so feel free to zoom... i know i sure am

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obae-me · 8 months

Text

A Taste Of His Own Medicine- Full Revised Masterpost

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

Anyways, enjoy!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is there anything else I can get you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Satan? It’s me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No.”

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

“Bite me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Demons…” you sighed. --

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you,” he mumbled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Should you be getting paid for this?…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“O…w…”

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

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

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

“Belphie!”

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

“..illith…Beel…”

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

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

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

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

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

“M…C…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oi!”

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

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

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

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

You lowered your head. “You run.”

“What do we not do?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fine, but you owe me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No one else needed a taste of medicine.

Or did they?…

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me belphie #sickfic

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