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obae-me · 7 months

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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 And boy oh boy did I feel like it was outdated.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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searchingforakeythatdoesntexist · 3 months

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DAY 13 - «On Thin Ice» Good Omens AU - Triptych Tribute for @blairamok

Part 1/3: "Falling Angel" Aziraphale

Please, listen to this

Change everything you are

And everything you were

Your number has been called

Fights and battles have begun

Revenge will surely come

Your hard times are ahead

Don't let yourself down

Don't let yourself go

Your last chance has arrived

Best, you've got to be the best

You've got to change the world

And use this chance to be heard

Your time is now

Falling Angel, your time is now!

(yes I know this Muse song has another sense in the On Thin Ice universe - for Crowley. Well, our Fallen Serpent will show us what IS a true Survival, tomorrow. ;-)

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Personal challenge: a simple sketch each day

Goal: forcing me to keep things simple - inking, shading, just a few sashes of colour

Improvement pursued: to get the movement, the emotion, finding how to add depth, learning how to leave things barely finished

Max time allowed: 2 hours, as usual for my Daily Challenges. Well, this is a very special Tribute for me, and I was on a three-days break. So I didn’t really set a timer for the « On Thin Ice » sketches. Plus, I drew them quite in the same time and on the same file to be sure Crowley and Aziraphale would match. I guess I spent more or less 3 hours on the lineart for each one of them (the clothes and the figures needed a lot of time), plus 1h30-2h on the colouring/shading for each one.

Be aware that in my first sketches for this project, Crowley and Aziraphale were supposed to train on the same ice rink, and I dearly wanted Crowley to be watching Aziraphale, and Aziraphale was supposed to glance back to him. I had to give up on this idea later – because the figure I chose for Aziraphale definitely couldn’t allow such a shared glance. (but, hello, it will be a triptyque ! So, guess what? About the third part… :-p)

About Aziraphale, as my « Falling Angel ».

« On Thin Ice » author, @blairamok, describes the Hydroplane ice skating figure as very representative of Aziraphale, and the drawing reference pictures were numerous enough to get some solid inspiration. It’s a complex skating figure. I have watched some ice skating tutorials on YouTube – because I wanted the movement of the clothes and hair to be accurate and, if I understand everything properly, even a slight alteration in the position of the arms can make you fall. Such perfection ! That IS the right move for Aziraphale !

I told sooner on my Gymnast !AU challenge that I appreciated drawing Aziraphale with realistic curves more and more each day – even if it still triggers me sometimes about my own shaming roundnesses. I realised my way of doing art – and my mind too, maybe - was evolving when I got back to check references in the amazing Blair artworks (link AO3). A few months ago, I felt insecure watching Blair’s Aziraphale, which seemed to me too much plump and very soft – not a « good sportive look », I thought then. But now I like him more and more, so maybe my way of thinking is changing, and I think this is for the very best.

My Aziraphale is performing a difficult figure, so he is using all his muscles into maintaining his balance. He seems so statuesque, so powerful, yet very focused and oblivious to the world around him, with his eyes shut. That is why he couldn’t share a glance with my Crowley. T.T

Maybe this is my way to guess Aziraphale’s behavior in the so-awaited « On Thin Ice » next chapters. Focused on his own training, trying to ignore Crowley’s sassyness but still secretly impressed by his partner’s skills. Because they share the same love for Ice Skating, even if they don’t show it in the same way.

Blair, if you ever read this, thank you. For your artworks, for making us dream about a wonderful story that still remains to be told.

Thank you for « On Thin Ice », for your so-kind message last week, and for everything else.

I have faith. I’ll wait for your story. But even if it doesn’t exist yet, I am already dreaming about it, and this is priceless.

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eternalbuckley · 9 months

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College Sweethearts. — evan buckley

SUMMARY: Buck and Reader used to be college sweethearts until he was kicked out of college. You didn’t stay in contact, nor did he give you an explanation of why he left completely. Years later your ways found back to each other again. And Buck certainly doesn’t want to miss this possible second chance with you.

word count: 3,287

genre: fluff | gn!reader, queer!reader, bipoc!reader and plus-size!reader friendly

warnings: use of y/n a few times, mention of buck dying a few times, nervous buck, mention of some other events from the show (s1-s3), heavy teasing, readers college degree is not specified, mention and description of alcohol use, mention of weed use, mentions of past hook-ups/making out, english is not my first language, hardly proofread — if i forgot something, please let me know!

a/n: I had this idea while watching a documentary about the planet Venus and immediately had to write it. It might be a bit cheesy but who cares? Everyone needs that sometimes, and Buck is currently the only thing that is in my mind (for weeks). Also: I’m currently working on multiple requests, which could slow me down from posting a bit at the moment! Enjoy reading 🫶 edit: i might make a second part to this once here but nothing’s decided yet!

disclaimer: please do not repost or try and take ownership of my work or post this anywhere without my consent. do not translate my work and post it anywhere — i give you no permission to do that. i only post my stories here, so if you find my work anywhere else please let me know! reblogs, likes and comments are appreciated and welcomed!

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Oh dear, love can be such a complicated little and big thing. Especially in your high school or college years. It’s supposed to be something beautiful, right? Well, for you it didn’t start quite easy, nor did it end in a rather beautiful way. In your early college years, you had a few dates with different people. At one point you gave up because no one matched your energy or gave you the vibes that you want to spend more, intimate time with them. You decided to focus more on studying and getting high with your friends a few times but you definitely didn’t plan on finding your (now ex-) fling at one of these stupid college parties.

But there you were, slightly drunk and making out with the infamous Evan Buckley. Maybe you had a small crush on him but did it matter at that point? The both of you started hooking up even after this party and you would lie if you would say it wasn’t amazing. He made you feel good and that’s all you cared about. It was fun while it lasted but at one point, he got kicked out of community college because he spent all his money on his motorcycle. And that was the last time you ever saw him as well. Sure, you were a bit mad because he didn’t say anything to you but you were not his partner. You had no right to say anything about it.

Even months after you last saw him you weren’t ready to hook up or meet other potential future partners. You realized at one point you might have fallen for him but you quickly needed to get rid of those feelings because you were completely sure you would never see him again. Sure, you could have taken a drive to his home but Buck told you a few times that his parents weren’t his favourite people in the world and he’d never want you to meet him. And again: In your opinion, you had no right to do that anyway.

Near the end of graduating your last college year, you decided it would be best for you to move away from your hometown. A fresh start was much needed. Especially after some fucked up friendships over some stupid boys that were in some of your college classes. You needed to get away from there immediately and that’s when you eventually decided to move to Los Angeles. It was always your tiny (big) dream to live there but never imagined you actually would someday. So, taking this opportunity made it even more perfect to start over. With the help of some friends and family members you successfully moved to the big city, it was hard work and saying your goodbyes was still tough for you. But you didn’t want to turn back and focus on the new part of your life even if that meant knowing no one and finding new people that lived in the same city as you.

After some months of living in Los Angeles, you decided to start working in a café until you found a good place to work at. You slowly felt more comfortable and started to feel more at home. You found one friend during this time – Maddie Buckley. You met her in the café you were working at. She came there often to get her a coffee and one day Maddie gave you her number. She told you that you could call her any time you need help or want to talk. Since she knew how it can be to live in a new city without knowing anyone. What you didn’t know was, that Maddie was Bucks sister and she never mentioned him as well, nor did you meet him when you were at her home the few times. Somehow you even missed the pictures that Maddie had of her and Buck in her home. Sure, she mentioned ‘her brother’ a few times and that he was working with Chimney but Bucks name was never mentioned for some reason. You even met Chimney a few times. There were a few times were you almost met Buck whenever he came over to Maddie and Chimney but every time you were already gone.

At one point Chimney invited you to come over to the 118 to meet his colleagues. He planned to set you up with Buck and Maddie helped him, little did they know that you guys already had a shared past. And that there were many details involved between you, including some untold parts. You agreed to visit him the next day since you had a few days off from work and that’s where the little chaos began for you and Buck. You picked out one of your favourite clothing pieces and were on your way to the 118.

Chimney already told the team that you were coming over and slightly begged them, especially Buck, to be nice to you and not make any moves. “Or else you will scare them away, alright?”

Buck was confused about what he meant but decided to ignore it. Once you were there Chimney immediately welcomed you with a hug and a big smile. He showed you the way up to where everyone else was, waiting for you. Buck was currently turned to the stairs with his back but once he heard your voice he quickly turned around since he remembered your voice. He just couldn’t believe that it was you. The moment your eyes met each other your smiles dropped for a moment out of shock.

After a few seconds of silence, you both pointed at each other with big eyes. “You?! Wha-”

“Wait. You both know each other?” Chimney questioned and looked at the both of you, very confused. You never mentioned that you already know Buck.

You slowly nodded your head and turned towards Chimney. You dropped your arm while doing that. “Uhm.. Yeah we know each other from-“

“College,” Buck interrupted you quickly. He was still shocked.

You only nodded your head to Buck’s words; you were shocked as well but not as much as he was.

“Wow. That’s interesting,” Hen mumbled to herself and got up to you. “Welcome to the 118. Chim already told me a lot of stuff about you,” she smiled at you and gave you a quick welcoming hug, which you returned. But your eyes were still glued on Buck.

The rest of the team, excluding Buck, welcomed you as well mostly with a handshake. Buck just nodded and slightly smiled at you. Things were slightly awkward now since there was a lot to explain and to be told between Buck and you. Especially because this had to be done in private, which was the reason why you didn’t really talk with each other. But Buck still made sure to listen to what you were telling and talking about with the others from the team. Even Bobby noticed Bucks staring after the first hour you were there and decided to invite you to stay as long as you want. You even stayed longer for his infamous lasagne, Chimney told you about it already. It tasted amazing but sitting right in front of Buck didn’t help you at all.

Especially because his eyes were still fixed on you. Even Eddie and Hen slightly nudged him to stop staring at you which only helped for like one second until he started staring again. You tried to ignore it but you did catch him a few times. He just couldn’t believe that you were sitting in front of him, here. His thoughts were pure chaos at this point. All he could think about was if you hated him for leaving you without explaining or saying anything. Were you mad at him? He certainly hoped you didn’t but he knew he’d deserve it. Buck wanted to talk to you in private but at work, there was no way it could happen. The one time you were almost alone together, a call for a fire came in. Which resulted in leaving you alone at the station. When the team got back from the fire, you were already back home. But left a little ‘thank you’ note for Chimney inviting you and Bobby for cooking such delicious food.

“You can tell them that they’re always welcome here,” Bobby told Chimney after Buck read out loud the note from you. Buck sighed, how could he talk to you without having to ask Chimney or Maddie for your number? If he wouldn’t find a way, he would do it but he didn’t want them to ask too many questions.

It was already enough to see Chimneys face filled with curiosity. He sure would talk with Maddie about the encounter between you and Buck once he was home. Buck knew he would have a talk with Maddie about you. He talked with her a few times about you already and how much he regretted his decision to leave without saying at least goodbye to you. And especially he needed to ask her how the hell she met you and why Maddie never considered mentioning you at least once.

So, to see a note falling out of his locker surprised Buck a lot. He bent down to pick it up and once he read the words his lips turned into a small and cheeky smile. It was a note from you with your telephone number and a small text added underneath.

“If you want to catch up, just text me whenever you want :) - Y/N/N”

Bucks smile grew even more after he read the nickname you added at the end. He basically gave it to you one evening while you watched your favourite movie and were too distracted with kicking each other out of fun and shared laughs. Despite having started your dynamic with the rule of only making out with each other, you two grew close but never talked about your actual feelings towards each other. Which made it even more sad that you lost contact with each other. But maybe that was what you both exactly needed to grow. Buck was curious to know how you’ve been and what you’re doing now. He would be lying if he would say he never found himself thinking about you over the past years, you never really left his thoughts at all. There were many times where he cursed himself for losing or especially leaving you without saying goodbye. He always imagined the moment where you both see each other again and that you would hate him but after seeing you today, he wasn’t sure if that was real. Now knowing that you gave him your number had to mean something. Buck definitely didn’t want to fuck up a possible second chance with you. He just hoped you would feel the same about him, which you certainly did.

Hen watched Buck go away with such a big smile she hasn’t seen on his face for a while now. She started smiling a bit in slight hopes it had something to do with you after all. Buck was on his way back home and the only thing that was on his mind was you. For the whole drive and even after he was at home for hours. His phone was laying on top of his bed and he walked his room up and down, he needed to decide if he is going to text you. Or well, how he should text you because he wanted to do it. He just didn’t want to embarrass himself. After a while he fell asleep with his phone in his hands, not noticing that he accidentally sent you a selfie while being half asleep. The moment you got his message you chuckled and opened the picture. You replied to him in a flirty but joking manner and closed the messages app afterwards. You fell asleep right after it and woke up to a reply from Buck. He apologized for sending such a picture to you but you admitted to him that you thought it was cute anyways.

And that’s how it ended for both of you. Talking and sending each other many messages. Most of them were filled with teasing and joking. You both were happier than usual and this came with teasing from your co-workers and the 118. Buck was on his phone more than usual and smiling from ear to ear. Obviously, the others noticed that and started teasing him with the worst possible things you can imagine.

“You know who he’s texting with?” Hen asked Chimney while they looked over to the lovebird looking at his phone.

Chimney smirked and nodded, “I guess it must be Y/N, they have been smiling more the last time they were over.”

Hen chuckled, “Of course, it would be them. Who else?”

Eddie joined them, “But don’t ask him about it, he’s quiet like a grave.” Chimney laughed at his comment and focused back on drinking his coffee.

But tonight, was the first time you’d hangout for the first time since you met each other at the station. It has been one week since then and you were nervous to meet him. Of course, it has been fun and nice talking with him over texts but seeing him in person was something else. It was night-time and you were getting ready for the ‘not-‘date with Buck. You were talking with Maddie on your phone, you needed her to help pick out an outfit. After what seemed like an eternity, you finally decided on your outfit, it was elegant but still comfortable for you to wear. It was good enough for staying outside even after the sunset. Maddie wished you good luck and said your goodbyes to each other. With the help of Eddie, Buck was able to choose a perfect outfit as well. He chose one of his white striped shirts, he remembered that you were really fond of one of his shirts that was similar to the one he’s wearing this time. He really hoped you’d like it. Right when you were about to leave Buck texted you, asking if you were on your way. You replied with a selfie, wearing your coat and a smile on your lips. You put your phone into your pockets and left your apartment.

Ten minutes later you got to the place where you were about to meet Buck. He was already standing there, nervously waiting for you. You tapped his shoulder and he immediately turned around.

His lips turned up in a smile. “H-hey,” Buck was immediately calmer.

“Hello there,” you smiled at him. It grew even more after he held a small flower to you. It was your favourite one. You took it and held it happily. “Wait I didn’t get you something.”

Buck shook his head. “It’s fine. You’re here, that’s..” he took a breath to think about his next words. “That’s all I need.”

You smiled at him again and took his arm after he held it out to you as well. You were walking through the park for a few minutes. They were filled with a comfortable silence but you took the turn to break it.

“How long have you been living here now?”

Buck looked at you but your eyes were focused on the flower he gave you. “For a few years now. Since.. You know I got kicked out of college I did many different things and well, ended up here.”

You chuckled and looked up to meet his eyes. “As long as you were happy.”

“Well.. Certainly.”

“Oh, is there something you want to tell me, Buckaroo?” You raised your eyebrows in a teasing manner.

He chuckled at the nickname. You used to call him that a few times back then. “Well.. I almost died. One or two times? My ex-girlfriend left me. Well, she left the whole country and didn’t really break up with me, only that I had to find out she was engaged. Everything while we had to clear out a train crash and I had to save her fiancé. Oh, and let’s not forget that I have a dead brother. Which I only found out a few months ago.”

You stopped walking and your mouth was open. When you asked him if he had to tell you something, you clearly didn’t expect anything of that.

“You.. It’s okay, I’m fine after all. I guess,” he mentioned.

“Damn. I didn’t expect things like that, Buck. I thought maybe you would say something like that you adopted a dog or a cat like you always wanted but… That?” You looked at him with soft eyes. “And you almost died? How can you say this so easily?!”

“I admit, they weren’t my best times but after all everything worked out. Even if I had to file a lawsuit against..” You were already shocked enough, which caused him to stop. “You know, that is something I could tell you later. What about you? Did you almost die once or twice?” He nudged you with his arm and continued to walk with you.

It took you a few moments to gather back your mind after all these news. A lawsuit? You definitely would find the time to ask him about that later.

“Well, I guess I finished college and just decided to move here. And no, I never got the opportunity to experience dying. I think I’ll leave that for you,” you smirked which caused him to chuckle again.

You spent two more hours talking about many different things. Up from Buck slowly finding his way into cooking and photography, that you’re looking for a job in your actual degree, and many more other themes you could spend hours talking about. It was a wonderful and comfortable time. Buck made sure that you felt safe and comfortable the whole time even when you were not looking all he focused on was just you. He missed hearing and seeing your smile and laugh. The way you sometimes moved your head backwards or subtly touched his arm because of his (bad) jokes. You talked about the fact that you knew Maddie and Chimney already but never found out that Maddie was his sister. You both found that hilarious. Overall, nothing had changed between you. Only you both individually, and in those few hours you felt happier than ever. And you got your answer, you truly had grown over the past few years and it was much needed. You felt safer in yourself, were stronger and well and the love you held deep down in your heart for Buck was still there. He walked you home this night and both of you were standing in front of your closed apartment door.

“It was nice, Buck. I haven’t had so much fun for a while now,” you smiled at him which he obviously returned.

“It was beautiful, Y/N. But I have to tell you something else and I.. I don’t know if that c-can wait any longer,” he stuttered. He was nervous you could tell.

You took his hand in a comforting way. “You can tell me anything if you feel the need for it, Buck. It’s okay.”

“You know... Maybe we could go out some time again. But m-maybe... You know as a-“ He stopped himself.

Your smile grew. “As a what? Hm?” You raised your eyebrow with a smirk now.

He looked into your eyes. You could see the hope he had in his own eyes. “As a date? Maybe?”

You stepped one step closer to him and kissed his cheek. “I’d love to.”

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ddejavvu · 1 year

Note

Hi mei!

can i request some dbf!hotch except bc reader is an adult he doesn't actually realise the much younger person he's been dating is bestie's child. (i picture the dad working in fbi/law enforcement so maybe they run into one another at an fbi gala or whatnot)

today is multiverse monday! send me any au you can think of :)

Aaron had thought nothing of the fact that the chief of the city they're in had the same last name as you. He's known the guy for years, and when you'd signed onto his team he made a vague connection in his head, but nothing ever became of it. After all, they've met a dozen Morgans in the field, even more Garcias, and even Reid was more common than he'd thought at first.

Plus, he's kinda sorta been mentally referring to you with his own last name for a few weeks now, after you'd pointed out a wedding ring ad in a magazine to him. Said you were 'just looking', but he'd seen the glimmer in your eyes. Bottom line, it takes an effort not to introduce you as Y/N Hotchner to his old friend.

"Chief Y/L/N, this is Agent Y/N Y/L/N," He gestures to you with a soft chuckle, "Maybe you're related."

You give Aaron a funny look, a silly smile on your face, "Uh, yeah, maybe."

"Honey," The chief greets you, and Aaron's polite smile dims as the man reaches out to hug you.

"Dad," You gush beside the man's ear as he squeezes you tight, "It's good to see you again."

"You too," Your dad reluctantly lets you go, after all, there's still a serial killer on the loose, "Aaron, I thought you knew we were related?"

"I didn't," He admits sheepishly, "And you- uh, I didn't know you had a daughter. At least not in the workforce."

"My younger sister is ten," You explain, and Aaron marvels at the age gap, "He probably only talks about her cause she's his favorite."

"She's my favorite because she doesn't excuse me of picking favorites between my children," Your father elbows you with a good-natured grin, "And because she's less rebellious than you were."

"Rebellious," You scoff, "I was an angel."

"A fallen one," Your dad leans in to stage-whisper to Aaron, "The next time she gives you trouble, just call me and I'll tell you about what she was like when she was younger. Whatever she's done will pale in comparison, I guarantee it."

Aaron is only able to chuckle along to your dad's teasing, internally stunned and struggling to comprehend the situation. When your dad turns to head into his office, you pointedly fall back beside Aaron, turning to face him with an amused grin.

"You seriously didn't know?" You cross your arms over your chest, "It's in my file."

"I must have missed it," Aaron admits, brow creasing in confusion and sudden, epiphanic understanding, "Is that why you always turn my picture of the chief and I to face the wall before we have sex?"

"Yes," You laugh, "Why did you think?"

"I thought you didn't like my shirt or something," Aaron muses, "You know I donated that shirt for you!"

You let out a snort, one that you seem embarrassed by if the way you cover your mouth and let your eyes flutter shut is any indication. You take a moment to breathe, "The shirt was fine. Not the best, but not as unsexy as my dad."

"Not the best," Aaron grumbles, turning to busy himself with the whiteboard the precinct has set up, "I loved that shirt."

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goldenempyrean · 5 months

Note

Hi, it’s so hot here so can I request a winter scenario with Wanda and sick reader with the prompts "You’re going to catch your death out here.” Bless you… Bless you! Are you okay- bless you again!”.

I was thinking the Avengers are hosting a snow day for underprivileged kids at the compound. Reader has never seen snow in person, so she spends all her time making snow angels and getting in snowball fights with the kids. Reader wakes up the next morning with a really sneezy cold. Wanda shifts into fluffy caretaker mode, and the other Avengers are watching like, wow Wanda really loves her. ❄️🥰

Baby It's Cold Outside

〚 Notes - Wow it really has been a while since I've done requests, I'm so sorry this took so long! I hope it's okay but I switched things around a little to have Wanda experiencing the snow :D Enjoy! 〛

〚 Pairing - Wanda Maximoff x Reader 〛

〚 Summary - Your girlfriend experiences the snow for the day first leading to a day of fun and excitement. Maybe you should've insisted that she wear her hat though..〛

〚 Wordcount - 2395 〛

〘 Check Out My Masterlist! 〙

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“Wanda!” You smiled as you gently caught the wrist of your eager girlfriend just before she’d raced out of the door, “You need to wear these sweetpea, it’s too cold without them.” You murmured softly, taking the pair of pink gloves you’d shoved in your pocket earlier that morning and carefully pulled over her hands.

“Oh! But I won't be able to feel the snow now!” You could almost feel her whine, as stuck out her lower lip pouted up at you.

But you only shook your head fondly as you pulled a matching pink bobble head over her hair, “You’ll most definitely still feel it Wands, it’s just to stop you getting too cold. Okay?”

“Okay.”

You smiled at her, she was practically overflowing with excitement, “Alright sweetheart, go enjoy yourself. I’ll be out with some hot chocolate soon.”

Now you see, Wanda had never seen snow before. The blanket of pristine white powder that had fallen during the night, holding the land in its icy grip and the look on her face when she’d woken up that morning and taken in the view from the window was a look you’d never forget. Such pure excitement and rushing anticipation to experience it all.

Every year whenever it snowed, the Avenger’s liked to open up their campus to the kids in the local community. The wide-open fields provided not only a big, but also safe place for them to happily play. Parents had a temporary respite and the whole team grew their relationships with the community as a whole. Plus, the kids had fun too. It was a win, win. 

During breakfast Wanda had practically been bouncing in her seat. They’d opened the field half an hour ago and there were already several kids putting in the work to make some snowmen. All she wanted was to go out there and join them as soon as possible. So as soon she’d finished eating the last of her waffles, she’d headed straight for the field.

You paused for a moment to watch the wonder on her face as she dove into the soft white snow, the wide grin on her face felt contagious as your own lip’s helplessly morphed into a soft loving smile. 

“Right, hot chocolate.” You said to yourself, bringing yourself back to reality, stealing one last glance at your girlfriend in the snow - she’d laid flat on her back and had begun making snow angels after a little girl had showed her how.

You turned on your toes and headed back to the kitchen, taking out a stack of cardboard cups and making sure you had enough for everyone. Once you were sure, you began heating up the milk. Yes, you used milk. The debate of whether to use milk or hot water had been had way too many times. Sam insisted that you were meant to use hot water which had horrified you the first time you heard his claim. As you waited for the milk to warm, you stood up on your tiptoes to pull a fresh bag of mini marshmallows from the cupboard.

They were meant to be hidden in Natasha’s secret stash of snacks, but you figured she wouldn’t mind… as long as you placed them before she noticed they were gone. Once the milk had heated you added the hot chocolate powder and poured it into the cups, decorating each one with whipped cream and a generous sprinkle of the marshmallows. Perfect.

Heading back to the door, you called out loudly, “Kids! Who wants hot chocolate?” Receiving several loud squeals of excitement in response as they all turned and ran back inside to grab a cup. 

They were all well-mannered and you smiled fondly as each child said a ‘thank you’ before taking their cup and racing back outside. After each cup had been taken you noticed that the large white mug, you’d made special sit sat on the side of the countertop. Wanda hadn’t even come inside for hot chocolate, you smiled to yourself at just how much she must’ve been enjoying herself before taking the cup, feeling its warmness sink into your hands before grabbing a scarf and heading out into the snow to find her.

Several other members of the team had also decided to join in on the fun and you couldn’t hold back a laugh as you saw Clint get pelted in the face by a snowball hurled by Natasha from several feet away. Tony also seemed to be enjoying himself, he’d apparently crowned himself leader of the 6-year-olds and they were all using his technology to build a huge igloo to play inside.

“Wands?” You called out as you got closer to your team members, to which your eyes widened in surprise seeing a familiar head of messy brunette hair pop up from behind a huge snow boulder that was apparently the base to a huge snowman that her and Steve had joined up to build. 

“Wands!” You smiled but then her messy hair caught your attention, “Sweetheart, where’s your hat? Hm? I thought I told you to wear it.” You said - you would’ve put your hands on your hips, but you were still holding her mug, “Oh, and your gloves.” You added with a sigh as you realised, she was also missing her pink accessories.

“I’m sorry! They were just getting in the way, and I really wanted to just feel the snow.”

“And did you?” 

Wanda beamed excitedly as she knelt down and picked up some snow, pressing it into a ball before holding it proudly, “Yes, look!”

How could you lecture her about keeping warm when she was just so cute. “Look what I brought you.” You smiled, remembering the chocolatey drink in your hands, “Here you go.”

To say her eyes lit up would be an understatement. They practically sparkled as she accepted the warm cup, her cold hands cradling the object as if it were the most important thing in the world. She took a sip and looked up at you, “Thank you baby.” She murmured, the gratitude in her voice clear.

You smiled back at her, “No problem sweetie, I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself,” You said, removing the scarf you’d put on earlier and gently wrapped it around her neck instead, to which she instantly snuggled against it, “But seriously, you’re going to catch your death out here if you don’t stay home so keep that on for me darling, okay?”

"She's really got you wrapped around her finger, huh?" Natasha smirked playfully as she walked past, and you didn’t notice the way her hand was suspiciously hidden behind her back.

You shot her a fake glare, "Well, when your girlfriend looks at snow like it's the most magical thing in the world, you'd do anything to make sure she stays warm and happy."

Wanda giggled, taking another sip of her hot chocolate, her eyes never leaving yours. The warmth in her gaze made your heart flutter, and you couldn't help but be grateful for these moments of joy. But your attempt of saving the moment was starkly stopped when you felt the sudden shock of feeling a freezing hold object hit the back of your neck followed by what could only be described as hyena laughing coming from the redheaded assassin a few yards away.

“Got you!” Natasha managed to say inbetween laughs.

“Oh, you are so on.” You smirked widely, cracking your knuckles before picking up your own handful of snow, “Come on, let’s get her Wands’.”

After a spirited exchange of snowballs, you all collapsed into the snow, breathless and grinning and as the evening settled in, the Avengers decided to wrap up the snow day festivities. The kids, rosy-cheeked and filled with joy, gathered around for a final round of hot chocolate before heading home. Wanda, still wrapped in the scarf you had given her, stood close by, she was a little quieter now, seemingly having used up all her energy during her day of fun and the small yawns she’d been trying to hide in your scarf was your sign she was probably ready for bed.

As the last of the kids said their goodbyes, you turned your attention back to Wanda. Both her cheeks and nose were slightly red from the cold, and she sniffled a little as she tried to suppress another yawn. You couldn't help but chuckle at her adorable exhaustion. She really did make that snow day worth it’s while and you were so glad that she enjoyed herself so much.

"Looks like someone had a lot of fun today," you teased, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

Wanda leaned into your side, nodding with a content smile. "It was incredible, Y/N, I've never experienced anything like this before. The snow, it was so cold but oh it was amazing! I loved it so much!”

You pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. "I'm glad you enjoyed it, sweetheart. Now, how about we get you inside and warmed up a bit? I’ve already put the fluffy blanket you like in the dryer, so it’ll be super warm for you.”

Before long, the two of you were cuddled up beneath the blanket on one of the sofas in the living quarters. Some cheesy reality TV show was playing on the big TV screen though you weren’t really watching, it was there for the benefit of Clint and Bruce who’d also joined the pair of you and were currently arguing over who was the best Kardashian – much to your amusement.

After some time, you noticed that Wanda's eyes were growing heavy as she snuggled against you. Her head rested against your shoulder, and her breathing slowed down. It was evident that the combination of the day's excitement and the warmth of the blanket was lulling her to sleep.

Gently, you lifted her in your arms and carried her to your shared bedroom. You carefully laid her down on the bed, tucking her in with extra care. Wanda mumbled a soft 'thank you my love' in her sleepy state, and you pressed a tender kiss to her forehead before heading to the bathroom to get ready for bed yourself. It didn’t take long and soon you were back to the bed and cuddled up under the blankets and falling asleep right beside her.

The next morning, you woke up to the soft morning light filtering through the curtains. You stretched lazily, feeling well-rested after the previous day's festivities. Turning to your side, you expected to see Wanda still peacefully asleep. However, you were met with a surprising sight.

Wanda was awake, sitting up in bed with a sheepish smile on her face. She held a tissue in one hand, and her nose was slightly red. It was then that you noticed a faint, adorable sneeze escape her, which she quickly tried to muffle with the tissue.

You couldn't help but chuckle at her adorable attempt to be quiet. "Bless you, Wands," you whispered, sitting up beside her.

She sniffled and rubbed her nose, giving you a sheepish smile. "Sorry, did I wake you up baby? I was trying to be quiet.” She sniffled again, however this time it didn’t have the intended effect, her breath hitching a little as her face shifted into an awaiting look of anticipation.

“Hh.. Hih-H’iiishu!”

“Bless you bab- Bless you! Are you okay?- bless you again!” Your eyes widened as your girlfriend couldn’t seem to stop sneezing, “Goodness sweetheart! Now you see this is why we wrap up warm when it’s freezing out. I think you’ve caught yourself a cold my love.

Wanda pouted slightly as scrunched up her nose, “Maybe just a little one but it was really worth it, I swear!”

“Oh of course, that seemed like just little cold.” You rolled your eyes at her stubborn nature before softening at the sound of her small pitiful sniffles, “I’ll tell you what, how about we have a cosy day in today?”

Wanda smiled, her grin dancing on her lips, “That sounds amazing pumpkin.”

“I’m glad it does baby, cosy day in it is then!”

So, the two of you, adorned in fluffy pyjamas, armed with a tissue box and the big, thick duvet from your bed settled onto the sofa again, snuggling down against each other before you handed Wanda the remote, letting her pick a movie to watch.

Wanda scrolled through the list of movies on the screen. After a brief discussion, you both settled on a classic romantic comedy – something light and heartwarming to lift Wanda's spirits. The movie started playing, and the soft glow from the screen illuminated the room.

As the movie progressed, you noticed your girlfriend’s eyes growing heavy, and her head slowly drooping onto your shoulder. The combination of the movie and the warmth of the blanket had lulled her into a peaceful slumber. You couldn't resist pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead before allowing yourself to succumb to the urge to nap right there with her.

Unbeknownst to you, Tony had been wandering around the living quarters, looking for something to entertain himself. As he strolled past your shared space, he couldn't help but notice the adorable scene unfolding on the sofa. There you were, wrapped in the oversized duvet, with Wanda nestled against your side, both of you sound asleep.

The genius smirked mischievously. Instead of waking either of you up, he simply pulled out his phone and took a quick photo... then a selfie with the two of you in the background – oh how he’d tease you both about this later -. before quietly asking FRIDAY to call Romanoff and Barton down to the living room.

Tony stood proudly, as if he had orchestrated the whole thing. “I didn't know they could be this sappy.” He teased quietly.

“Should we wake them up?” Clint whispered, not wanting to disturb either of you.

“Nah, let ‘em sleep. Wanda probably needs it, and Y/N will be grumpy if we wake them anyway.” Tony cautioned before sneaking away from the room.

Natasha, who had her own soft spot for romance, simply nodded in agreement. Before nudging Clint to take a closer look at how your hand was holding your girlfriend’s even in your sleep, "Looks like someone's got a touch of the love bug."

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#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x you #wanda x you #wanda maximoff #sickfic #fluff #soft #caretaking #wanda maximoff sickfic #mcu #marvel

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urdepressedslut · 1 year

Text

Stray

♡ Pairing: The Winter Soldier x Fem!Reader/Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

♡ Summary: Just hours after the events in DC, you find The Winter Soldier unconscious, leaning against a gravestone in a cemetery near your home. Being sheltered you don't recognize who he is, and you care for him.

♡ Warnings: dark themes? light angst, fluff, vomiting

A/N: If you’re confused at the start, good. I tried to make the buildup very mysterious on who you are 😂

Part 2

His mind raced with questions that he knew would stay unanswered. The image of the blonde soldier defenseless, lying just out of the river.

I'm with you til the end of the line

Those words had ignited something in him, the foreign feeling of a fractured memory trying to come to life. He wasn't sure who he was anymore, he wasn't sure where he was, or where he was going. But his legs had a mind of their own, leading him far away from the smoke clouds.

10 hours later Location: Riverside, WA

You watched the dirt disappear from your hands, streaks of brown merging with the river. Taking a deep breath, you felt at peace, the ambience of the wind and water being the only noise you could hear for miles.

Your mind was finally clear, the static the lurked in your head gone. You were surprisingly doing better than you thought, considering what had happened. Maybe it was just the calm before the storm.

Long story short, no one would ever control you again, you were finally your own person.

Taking one last look at the river, you hoped that the calm that found you here would follow you back to the house. The house used to be a place you called home, but now the air was poisoned. Although you didn’t have a choice, it was the only place you had to live. Plus people would be looking for you now and you had to stay hidden.

The walk back to the house gave you time to think, gave you a moment to yourself before you reentered the poisoned air.

As you were passing through the cemetery as a shortcut, you noticed the angel gravestone had a real man leaning up against it. His form was unmoving, and could easily pass as a statue from how still he was.

Your body tensed up slightly, considering that this cemetery was private, nobody ever came out here.

He seemed to be a very large man, but from the way he was trying to make himself look smaller broke your heart.

You had always heard that “Two broken people will either fit together perfectly, or destroy each other beyond repair.” Whatever that means anyway.

Not that you were assuming he was a broken man but a normal person wouldn’t be sleeping against a grave in a cemetery… especially this cemetery.

You felt like you haven’t been living your life the way you want to live it. You were in control now and you wanted to do something good— be good.

Your bare feet tip toed through the overgrown grass, walking slow enough, sizing him up. He was dressed in military tatical pants with a black tactical vest covering his upper half.

He looked like a soldier, and you didn't understand how someone like him would be wandering around a cemetery in the middle of nowhere.

Finally getting close enough, you kneeled down into the grass, your dirtied dress flowing around you. The strangers shoulder length hair was covering the full view of his face. With careful fingers, you reached out, pushing the curtain of hair off his cheeks.

You were speechless as you revealed the strangers face, at a loss for words at his beauty. His skin was neutral, sweat mixed with water layering his face with a glow. His eyes were peacefully shut, while a crease stayed in between his brows. His left eye was ringed with an irritated bruise, one that seemed too fresh for it to be an old wound. His face had been shaved recently, but stubble could be spotted up close. His dully defined cupids bow guided you to his plump lips, beholding a pinkish color.

You had never witnessed such raw vision this close before, and you couldn’t help yourself from thinking that he was a fallen angel.

You couldn’t stop yourself from reaching out, smoothing his stubbled cheek with your knuckles. It had felt like forever since you’d last touched a man, let alone a man this handsome.

His lip twitched at your feathered touch, making you rip your hand back to your chest in fear you'd woken him. The man groaned painfully in his slumber, and it was then you noticed his right arm cradled awkwardly to his chest.

This man was clearly hurting, and from the looks of it, he was running from something. It wasn't your job to care for him, but you knew you couldn't just leave him here. Without knowing his true intentions yet, you started your trek back to the house to gather some supplies for the stranger.

__________________________

Bucky woke with a groan, the discomfort in his shoulder still present. Without setting his arm back in place, he wouldn’t be able to heal himself. He’d forgotten how he ended up here, only remembering his chaotic mind trying to piece everything together, resulting in him collapsing. His head felt less cloudy, his mind able to create clear thoughts without the looming shadow of HYDRA.

HYDRA. Surely they were looking for him now, and as much as he hated to admit it. They still had power over him, even out of their clutches. His stomach knotted up, sweat beads forming on his exposed skin, the mere thought of being found by HYDRA enough for him to empty the contents of his stomach on the grass next to him. Although it wasn’t much, just remains of his last nutrient packet.

After moments of dry heaving, his body relaxed back onto the stone. It was then he noticed the supplies placed in front of him.

He found, two water bottles, a medium sized bag of fruit and vegetables, a pile of clothes, and sitting on top of the clothes lastly was a flower.

The supplies had sparked something inside of him, and he wasn’t sure if it was confusion on where they came from, or if it was guilt that he didn’t deserve such kindness.

Glancing around the vacant cemetery, he saw no one in sight. He sensed nothing, heard no heartbeat, or breathing. The water and food were too tempting to ignore, despite the possibility of it being poisoned lingering in the back of his mind, he gulped the water down. Despite his stomach growling, he nibbled on the food, knowing the effects of eating too fast, especially after living off of nutrient packets.

Suddenly, a paper ball landed near his legs. Startling him, he whipped he head up, scanning the area for the being. After finding no one again, he picked up the ball, uncurling it to reveal a scribbled message.

Walk 206 steps to your right for shelter

Storm coming tonight

Furrowing his brows, he was more confused than ever. After all the blood stained in his hands, the universe still thought he was worthy enough for a guardian angel? Surely this was all a sick joke, and the person behind these words were HYDRA.

Amongst all his chaotic thoughts, the one had stuck out, ringing loud and clear for him to hear.

What more do I have to lose?

__________________________

You were sitting on the front porch, training your eyes on the field where the earth curved. It was silly to trust a stranger, you knew that. It was even sillier to be waiting for said stranger to appear. Maybe it was because you were lonely, maybe it was pure curiosity.

You suddenly spotted the faint figure of someone far away walking in this direction. Doubting if you had made the right decision leading him here, you wrung your hands together nervously.

The stranger had seemed to spot you, with the way he was avoiding your stare. His hands were full with your supplies you had gifted him, even his awkwardly bent arm was cradling the bag of food. He hadn’t bothered to change into the new clothes, but you didn’t mind.

It felt like forever by the time he stopped plenty of feet away, obviously keeping distance between you both. You watched him sneak a glance at you, analyzing your expression with the way his brows furrowed in concentration.

Deciding to break the thick silence, you cleared your throat. As well as holding your palms out for him to see, to show you meant no harm.

“Uh… I’m not going to hurt you or anything… You probably figured that I mean— The water, food… Uh,” You rambled, forgetting everything you had planned to say, “I found you in the cemetery and I was just gonna leave you the supplies and that’s it. But then I heard about a storm on the radio back home and… Well, I felt bad thinking about leaving you there.”

The man watched you intently during your whole speech. Half listening, half taking in your features. He hesitated taking off in the middle of your rambling, but when you mentioned you had felt bad for him, and were thinking about him. It ignited a foreign feeling within him, one that made him feel important, something he’s lacked for god knows how long.

He was complete stranger to you, and here you were offering him supplies, thinking about his wellbeing and now you were offering your home to him? You really were an angel.

“You can stay if you want. You can stay out here on the porch, or you could come inside,” You offered, feeling embarrassed by your desperation for human interaction, “It’s just me here.”

He thought about your offers, knowing he could easily overpower you if the situation called for it. He was enchanced and could run faster than you, if he had to. He felt secure that if the worst came, he could handle it.

“Why?”

His voice startled you, you weren’t expecting him to respond considering his mysterious silent vibe he was giving off. His question confused you though.

“Why what?”

“Why let me stay?” He asked in almost a whisper, holding you gaze confidently. Although his eyes were haunted, holding a look of someone that had seen too much.

Your heart ached at what this man had possibly been through. His tone was sad, and it sounded like he almost didn’t believe he should be allowed to stay.

“Uh… I don’t know,” You told him softly, and he didn’t seemed pleased with your answer, lowering his eyes to the ground again. “Like I said, it’s just me here.”

You hinted, hoping he’d understand that you were desperate enough for human interaction that you were willing to invite a stranger into your home.

You glanced up to him, finding an empathetic expression upon his face.

“Okay, just for tonight.” He agreed, and you smiled.

A/N: part 2?? 🤔 let me know what you think

#reader insert #fluff #light angst #oneshot #imagine #marvel imagines #buckybarnes #the winter soldier #bucky barnes #sebastian stan characters #sebastian stan #james buchanan barnes #captain america civil war #captain america the winter soldier #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes angst

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cocomintcat · 1 month

Text

Heaven's Princess (Prologue)

Hazbin hotel x seraph!reader Platonic series

Part 1 || Masterlist

Songs of the chapter: Slipping through my fingers (Abba)

The fall, God lost one of his beloved children, his son, the morning star, Lucifer. He, alongside his other 7 children, mourned the loss. The siblings all cherished Lucifer dearly. He was one of the youngest. Years on earth were chaotic, God was angry and felt lost. Then, after he felt his duty to earth was done, he secluded himself only to ever talk to his children and seraphiel, his friend.

After 50 years or so of Emily's birth, Seraphiel had an idea. God loved his children dearly. They always brought light to him. Unfortunately, now it is just being the 7 plus him taking lucifer's job. Their work kept them quite busy, leaving God on his own. Seraphiel debated if this idea would work or be worth it, but there was no harm in trying after all.

He brought the idea to God. God showed no opposition, so the plan was set in motion. Seraphiel created a new baby seraph. Small she was. Pale skin with a purple blush, a cute heart nose, purple hair, and the most notable, lively purple eyes briming with life.

Once God held her in his arms, he felt a familiar surge of love and warmth. Seraphial was glad his idea worked. He watch as God coo'd at the small girl. She giggled back at him flailing her tiny little arms.

That day she was named God's little princess, Eliora Sarai Starlight.

7 beings walked through the spacious and bright home. Upon entering the lounge room, they greeted their father.

“So what exactly did you call us all here for??” Azrael was the first to speak up.

“Well I wanted to introduce you to your little sister of course!!”

“Sister?!” Almost all of his children shouted out of pure shock, not expecting to ever add another to the family since the fall.

“YES! Well, I guess I should explain myself a bit…” God explained best he could of seraphiel's idea. He had given it a try, and it was more than worth it. Some of the siblings were a bit apprehensive about the idea. Some still missed their brother, who had fallen. They just hoped their sister wouldn't become just a replacement for him.

Seeing their mixed feelings, God took them to a very beautiful room. A soft yet elegant crib was in the center. The 7 siblings crowded around immediately to see the small princess. She awoke, sensing multiple new presences. Her big eyes gazed at each of the new faces before reaching out her arms to them. Leroy, the dominion angel, put a gloved hand out towards the little one who immediately grasped it before nuzzling it. Leroy smiled down at the little one, putting his hand on her cheek, gently stroking it.

“She's quite sweet isnt she?”

“Haha! She is.” God's smiled softly watching all the siblings interact. Cassius, the shortest of the siblings, immediately scooped up the small girl. Spinning with her in their arms the little girl squealed with excitement.

“She is absolutely adorable!! What did you name her?!”

“Eliora Sarai Starlight. She's heaven's little princess, so I thought the name would be fitting.”

“Thats so cute! Little Elly!” Cassius spoiled the little girl with kisses all over her face, which made her giggle and squirm.

“Ok let the rest of us have some time with our baby sister!” Azrael snatched her straight from Cassius, giving her a hug and nuzzling her with his face.

“What a little cutie! You got really lucky with this tiny angel!” The sibling each passed her around, giving the girl plenty of affection. Micheal was the last to hold his baby sister. Gently, he rocked her. She was tired out from each of his other siblings and their excessive affections. She snuggled in his arms, and he smiled softly at her tiny, sleepy form.

“She's so precious!” Cassius continued to coo over the adorable baby alongside Azrael and Leroy. The other watched fondly seeing the joy she resparked amongst the family. God felt a sweet familiarity at the scene. He was glad he could bring his family back together.

“Emy!!” A small seraph exclaimed, running into the arms of her friend. Eliora had grown significantly in the past 40 years. Though she was still small in stature, the princess had now aged to that of a 4 year old human child.

“Its good to see you too, lia!” The other seraph squeaked happily, squeezing her friend. Emily was 90 and a good foot taller than the tiny princess. Both had become good friends being close in age. After the princess was old enough to walk and talk, Seraphiel started bringing his youngest with him to visit God. The two girls got along extremely well, pleasing their fathers.

Eliora had also met some of Emily’s other sisters. They were all nice, Sera however was always very strict and bit too much for the princess. She lived with God, the Creator, and even he wasn't so strict with everything. Still, a good bond had formed between the young princess and the youngest seraphim daughter.

For a child, Eliora was very well behaved. She rarely got into any trouble, and most of the time, it was because she followed others when they got into trouble. She'd usually sit and watch others from her father's lap or side. If she was with her siblings, she'd maybe ask a question or two about what she had observed, but other than that, she was easily entertained by watching others. She was quite curious about things, but she wasn't so curious as to figure it out for herself.

“Daddy, whats the bible?”

“Why do you want to know little one?”

“I overheard some angels talking about it.”

“Its a book on Heaven and early Earth written by humans, you know the ones that some call winners. The angels that once lived on earth.”

“Oh? Can you tell me more about it?” Eliora now was 60. She knew a bit about heaven, earth, and winners but not a lot. Her family discussed what age each topic would be appropriate to explain to her. The fall she could learn once she reached 100 along with hell, but for now, just some of heaven and earth was allowed.

God proceeded to tell Eliora a bit about eden before Eve ate the fruit. He also left out Lilith. Mostly, he told her about all the animals, and here he learned her absolute adoration for all animals. He couldn't say he was all that surprised with her sweet, loving nature.

Eliora's 80th birthday was soon. She was currently out with Micheal to go on a cute lunch date. He loved treating her to these special outings. The place was a nice little restaurant owned by a sweet elderly winner who was fairly new. The restaurant dabbled in multiple styles of southern cuisines, as Micheal had told Eliora. The restaurant staff were all southern winners who agreed to join the sweet lady's team to bring a bit of old comfort to their new home. It was a popular lunch place among many new winners. Eliora and Micheal, being heaven born, asked the server for recommendations. They ended up with (your choice ;)) and some beignets for dessert.

“Wow didn't expect Mr. Head Angel Micheal to be out here having lunch with some kid. Fuck, your baby mama leave you huh? That must suck haha!” A man with a strange mask said. Eliora's nose scrunched at the way he talked to her brother.

“Adam i suggest you watch your language. As for the kid shes my little sister Eliora.”

Eliora politely waves at the man before going back to eating.

“Sister? I thought your familial editions ended after the fall?”

“She was given to us about 80 years ago.”

“damn so she really is a little squirt.”

Micheal was annoyed and managed to get Adam to say his goodbyes and leave.

“Elly two things. First don't listen or repeat any new words you hear from Adam. Second I'm sorry we got interrupted.”

Luckily, the rest of the lunch was peaceful and delightful. Eliora said she'd like to go to the restaurant again, Micheal decided to let his siblings know about it if they were to take her out to eat.

Soon Eliora’s 80th birthday passed. She had met Adam a few more times, mostly when she was out with Sera and Emily. Eventually, Adam was asked, Sera had an emergency to attend to, to watch both Emily and Eliora. He wasn't too happy but agreed. He decided to teach them electric guitar while they waited for Sera to return.

“So you hold it like this - yup, good job, squirt.” Adam started with teaching Emily. She struggled but had fun learning. Next, it was Eliora's turn. She had been watching in amazement. She left Adam speechless with how fast she picked up how to play. He decided to teach her a few more rock instruments, which she grasped the basics almost immediately.

‘yo Micheal wtf is your sister on. Sera is using me as an emergency babysitter and so I taught the 2 tinys some instrumental lessons and ur sister knows the basics to like 3 intruments’

‘what?’

‘yeah, bass, electric guitar and drums’

‘...’

Soon enough, Sera was back. Micheal had let his family know what Adam sent him and his theory. They decided to test it, and it was correct. Eliora’s heavenly gift was music related. She also told them how it also incorporated dance after they explained what heavenly gifts were. A celebration was held for the little princess. Adam was invited to which he gifted her some rock instruments, while her siblings gifted all sorts of traditional and modern instruments. Gabriel, however, gifted her dance shoes of all types. Emily was extremely excited and insisted the princess put on a performance for her birthday as a gift.

Over the next 60 years, Eliora practiced her heavenly gifts. She also became close to Adam, and he luckily learned to tone down his rude behavior around her. Anytime he took her around heaven, he'd put her on his shoulders or drape a wing over her like a brother resting an arm on their shorter siblings head.

Eliora had 40 years since learning about the Fall and Hell. She asked each sibling about their experience and about Lucifer. She tried to ask Adam but soon learned that it was a sore subject for him.

Eliora's relationship with God changed with the years, too. They're close, and hes a good father, but the realization of her growing up is starting to make him feel down. She tries her best to assure him that no matter how old she gets, she'll always be his little girl and stay in heaven by his side. Luckily, as long as she was around, his depression seemed to not be too bad. However, with age comes responsibility. She doesn't do any intense work or even a heavenly job, but rather, she observes others work in heaven. From each of her brothers to the seraphim. She didn't really know what she wanted to do, nor was there really a job that she was needed for aside from assisting to lighten others' workloads. Eliora also spent a good amount of time performing for others in heaven, dancing and singing to lift others' spirits or soothe new spirits. That's actually how Eliora made new friends. One went by the name Biatreh, but Eliora called her Bee.

More notes on god and 7 heavenly virtues, mostly based on the art by or for who i assume is @apieceofheaven

I believe cassius is by mika_ji_ on X, they commissioned artists for their design so I can assume as they're the only person I found art of that exact cassius design!! (I love all the designs I hope yall like the ones I chose as reference since we don't know any of their cannon designs)

Also context seraphiel is head of seraphim family in this version, so sera and Emily are sisters (there so many versions of heaven and the names so I'm going with what ones suit this story best and I kinda like the idea of this)

Also name meaning "God is my light" "princess" and obviously starlight is English so you can assume why I chose that <3

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x reader platonic #mintysseraphreader #platonic hazbin hotel #Spotify

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avonne-writes · 4 days

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I’m curious why some people see Gale as this big intimidating guy. Like a scary biker or a macho bodyguard? To me he’s got this vulnerable aura around him, his delicate features (even his hands!) make him look like an angel, like that scene with the horse? Like your fallen angel au! He might seem closed off and aloof but that’s only because he’s trying to protect himself since no one else did that for him. Not to mention the size difference between him and Bucky makes me feel like John would be the tough protective figure between them, look at the size of John’s shoulders! Gale would be protective too but not in a I’ma smash some skulls way or people gonna see me and be scared way lol

I think there's space for a lot of interpretations, and it's always interesting to try to put a character into the actor's other roles, so I don’t think it's strange. A well-written AU probably has a nuanced character, so it's most likely explained why he appears this or that way or why he went into a tough profession. Plus Gale also has his own fire, albeit buried deep inside - look at him snapping at his copilot in ep 3.

But I know what you mean by vulnerable aura! I think it’s because we get to see him from John's perspective. Although not skull-smashing, but he might be intimidating from other people’s perspective. Take ep 3 again for example, he’s quite tough and maintains an air of calm and confidence in front of his crew, but once they're gone and it’s just John, Gale lets his walls drop and the vulnerability shine through. The same with the train scene in the last episode. He reassures Solly and acts like a leader figure, but towards John, he’s soft and allows his hurt and sadness to show.

You can practically see him switch:

And yes, it’s because he feels safe and loved when he's with John ❤️ He knows that John will always have his back. I agree that John is a protective figure, and it's true that his size makes him appear more intimidating. Yes, probably he would be the more loudly and obviously protective between them, but Gale has his own ways too.

#mota #buck x bucky #gale cleven #john egan #clegan #anon #interesting question!

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cherri-balms · 2 months

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♡﹕𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓, 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓! — CH.1 — Normal Girl

▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။ ၊|• 0:01

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A/N ﹕Chapter 1 is finally out!! I apologize if this took a little while, I have an idea for an Alastor fic brewing and if all things go well, the prologue/pilot chapter will be the next thing I post!

As always if you would like to be added to the taglist, shoot me a DM and ill get back to you asap!! <3

This chapter is primarily exposition and fluff, so there are no content warnings for this chapter aside from a brief description of making oneself vomit.

𝐄 × 𝐌/𝐅 × 𝟓.𝟐𝐤 × 𝐎𝐧𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 × 𝐀𝐎𝟑

♡﹕Bring-your-reader to work day as one of the most famous idols in hell! Or, what it's really like working as one of the most famous idols in hell under the thumb of the VEES.

6:00 PM

Your alarm begins your morning with its typical assault to the ears and dragging you out of what was once a beautiful slumber, for a while your subconscious was even able to create a darling little wonderland blend of hell and personal heaven, but all good dreams had to come to an end at sometime soon.

Sitting up, you begin your typical morning work routine of getting dressed, brushing your teeth and whatever other morning activities that needed to be done. Surrounding you are dozens of printed posters and scrolls of yourself watching you get changed, most of which being limited edition merchandise from your concerts, and almost all of them had in bold letters “MONΛRCH” somewhere on the prints. After your meeting with Vox that day, he insisted that if you were going to work with the brand of the Vees that you were to take on a stage name to said brand. Before you could go through your mental filing cabinet to find something that would fit, Vox informed you that he had already picked your name from the moment you walked in: Monarch. It took a second for you to realize, but the patterns currently adorning your body with the resemblance of a monarch butterfly made it click. Plus, you did like how powerful the name sounded.

The last step of your routine was always to consult yourself a sprint checkup on your voice synthesizer and then perform some finetuning. Your current synthesizer is nowhere close to your first one, hell the damn thing originally couldn't even get wet, nor was it surgically bolted into your neck, though the two still shared similar parts in case the need for a quick repair arose.

… Aaaand of course speak of the fallen angel, that said scenario was precisely why you keep a constant eye on the quality of your synthesizer, because the screw connecting your voice bank and vocal chords was chipped. Sure, it was minute but even the smallest imperfection could lead to rust and infection that you just couldn’t afford.

The bottom half of your dresser vanity would appear to be nothing but a foundational box with a front facing panel and some regal metalsmith carvings if not for the card-slot keyhole poking out the right side. You keep the key hidden on your person at all times, while the contents inside hold no value in money or power you’re sure the reactions to what could be construed to be a stalkerish shrine to your boss would be the end of your reputation.

And his too you guess but you’re the cute one here.

Lifting your pointer finger to the back of your neck, using the slight dent of your nail to nudge out a tiny rectangular panel of your synthesizer. Or, it would be rectangular if not for the carefully cut notches on one of the sides.

You slip the key into the slot as far as it will reach, bypassing all 4 clicks then rewarding you with a 5th at ths decompressing tightness of the spring lock hinge. The once stiff panel now slides open, though not exactly with grace with it getting friction jammed against the frame caused by lack of use.

Not quite having time to spare getting distracted by your keepsakes you reach to the glass case to the left containing your prototype voice bank collar displayed like a diamond atop a blue silk pillow. You’re absolutely certain if Vox discovered you still held the beta technology he would gag like you were saving a meal that's gone bad. Absolutely adorable, knowing if you’d present it to any sinner in hell it’d be easy to convince them it was state of the art, brand new.

One screw acquired and you’re out of there, locking everything the way it was before, box, vanity, bedroom door, apartment door. The commute to the VHQ could barely even be considered a walk, actually, most of the housing within a 3 mile radius of their building was ultimately owned by the Vees reserved for employees. Smart way to both keep their people in line and control exactly who’s around at all times, gotta give them credit when credit is due.

The dredging silence over the span of two months had you in an urge to claw beneath your skin to tear out the stabbing anticipation that seemed to grow within. Should that evolve into a spiral well of anxiety you'd been worried the business plan sealed in ink turned into a ghost, but you were informed before your leave that Rome wasn’t going to be built in a day so you were left with nothing to do but respect his unspoken wishes.

When the hour struck and you received the details for the date and time of your next meeting in a bare bones text, you wish you could say it put your short term torture to a close, but the years worth of screaming in static was finally going to be over. You couldn’t make time move any faster, only make yourself move faster to prepare for your next encounter with the overlord that could now be considered your master.

“Monarch! Good, right on time, Now come sit.” Your overlord spins around the chair to your direction, beckoning you his way. You silently do as you’re told sitting legs pressed together handbag in your lap, before you even had a chance to touch the zipper for your tablet he waves your hands away.

“Nuh-uh, you don’t need to bother yourself with that anymore. I’m sure you know why I called you?” By the way his smirk stretched across the screen while his left hand reached below his desk you’d nearly assume he was just as excited as you for this day. You feel your eyelids pull back and you swore your eyes reflected twice as much light than when you first sat down if you could catch a glimpse of yourself.

The device presented to you in his hands looked identical to its future self if not for the fresher coat of polish it bore. You must confess you weren’t too sure what you were envisioning for this gadget to come out looking like, actually you realized you were never imagining something metaphysical at all, the technological cure to your aid came in the mental form of an intangible concept closer to a myth. But what was before your eyes was.. actually pretty underwhelming.

It looked like nothing but a steel box speaker attached to a collar with a dial, bare and simple. You caught a peek at something poking out on the other side behind it, but it didn’t catch your interest long enough to retain the observation. You weren’t aware enough to try and hide your confusion but you may have done a better job than you thought at not letting it show since he didn’t react until you cocked your chin to the side.

“Well what are we waiting for! Let’s get this show on the road and try it out, yeah? Turn around.” You were practically standing and turned before he could even finish the command. Sharp blue needles brush over your cheeks and under strands of hair lifting them behind your ears. You make the sound of the buckles on the collar before it’s veiled over your vision and behind your neck. “Fair warning, this will definitely be painful!”

Mayhaps you should’ve taken a bigger note on what you saw behind the box earlier, because you instantly got to discover what it was as spear headed clamps bury dormant in your throat through your neck so sharp it could pierce bone. Pain didn’t even begin to describe what you were feeling, it was like your brain tossed you back in time to repeat your lungs combusting to ash and your body soon reacted like you were suffering such fate again, causing you to start jumping and swatting out of the arms of your savior as if he were your next next killer.

“AAAAAAHH-aaahhhh?” Was that y- there’s no way.

You tested again in case this was another instance of your psyche filling in the gaps of a voice once more.

“aaahhhhhh~AAAHH~~” You weren’t dreaming. What you were asking from him from the start felt like asking the impossible but the result you were given far exceeded any daydream you conjured to cope with your situation, but not only had the overlord given you a brand new voice by some miracle, the voice he gave you was the same you had in life, the same smooth melody you forgot you could produce.

You turned around to face him, this time with tears blurring your view. Not an ounce of anger from your embarrassing attack his way earlier, only intrigue in your reaction to the gift. For the first time in years, you could speak and say anything in the world you wanted and now your mind was white noise. All you could do was bow your head in gratitude, though you aren’t sure if he was expecting that just based on the noise he made after.

“Hey- woah, no need for that now, not that I’m necessarily complaining,” You raise your head and you aren’t surprised by the shadow of ego stretching his grin across the screen. “I did some investigating into your mortal life to find samples of your work to make sure your voice would be nothing short of yours! Getting hands on anything in the overworld is a royal pain in the ass, though. I hope you keep that in mind.”

Was he jesting? You were going to keep every bolt and circuit in mind for the rest of your afterlife. Perhaps it was the adrenaline, or the subtle new feeling of electrical surges flowing down the rivers of your veins, but just standing still with the amount of energy pumping in your body currently had you revived into a frankenstein marionette.

You suppose a start could be a proper thank you, but when you attempted to mouth the words the frequency in which the simple “thank you, sir” stitched themselves together didn’t carry harmoniously, more like a broken collage of vocal pitches. Your hand cuts off your lips with a flare of pink to your cheeks, the oncoming cackling from your new boss turns that shade into deep red.

“Hahaha! I was wondering when you were gonna find that part out!” The laughter settles to a halt and he lifts a finger to wipe away a pixelated tear that doesn’t actually budge. “This model is just a beta voice bank and synthesizer, speaking will take some getting used to and once I get enough data from your use of it in the following weeks, I can begin working on improvements. I have a manual in my drawer containing the details for maintenance but for now, I have some people you need to meet.”

You were nodding your head along but you had to admit, you were not following completely. True you were unfamiliar with the recent spike in tech, but you didn’t think you were this poorly informed. You make a mental note of this as something you should start fixing asap if you were going to continue your career this way. Meanwhile, outside your thoughts, your boss is leading you to the front elevator.

Before you could prepare for a silent and awkward ride down, the TV filter breaks it again. “Oh, and can you stop with the whole “sir” talk, it’s a painfully stuffy-outdated form of addressing authority. Just address me as Vox, and everyone will know I’m your boss.” The elevator bell rings signaling the stopping floor. Your vision is brought to what looks like a madhouse production with women bustling in every direction skewing fabric across the space. It didn’t take long to put two and two together that this was some kind of clothing production, but seeing a fashion lineup in what you thought was a tech company put you in uncanny valley.

“No! No! No! Fucking disgraceful- what the hell is this shit Shae? Did you get sick all up on our silk or are you actually using vermillion and oli- VERMILLION AND FUCKING OLIVE SHAE DID YOU LEARN COLOR COORDINATION FROM THE COLOR BLIND?!” Alright that definitely drew your attention. The voice sounded like a female Gordon Ramsay for fashion instead of cooking, so it wasn’t difficult to assume she was the one in charge.

“Velvette! You’re as bitter as ever before.” The woman turns over, you had to admit her namesake fit well with her appearance and instantly the aesthetic made sense. Something about that cute white swirl she has in her hair reminded you of a sweet cheesecake frosting you could've devoured her on sight.

“Vox fuckin’ piss off mind you can’t you see I’m in the middle of somethi- who the fuck is this” Velvette squints in your direction like your appearance sucked away the rest of her eyesight. Seconds go by, and then a few more without a word being exchanged, only the next electrical surge from the nervous gulp of saliva reminding you that things didn’t have to be this way anymore.

You introduce yourself unashamed of the robotic slurred speech pattern and the face she makes could only be described as bewilderment.

“I- what in satan’s name was tha-”

“She’s mute, Velvette. Sweetheart this is the cornerstone of my little “Monarch” project I informed you of, and I actually came here to discuss that with you.”

“Wait a second the star of your new network is a mute bimbo- Vox did your motherboard circuits go fucking smooth?!” Self control was a virtue you’d mastered since life one, through thumb-tacks in your heels to schmoozing slimy pigs with deep pockets, the poker face would remain sewn to your cheeks. But here, you could feel the slightest twitch anytime this woman spoke. You couldn't give a damn how powerful she thought she was, the kinds of implications she was making towards Vox only made you want to shove bars of soap down her throat until it cleans the filth coating her mouth.

There was no fucking way you were ever going to tolerate that cunt.

The frosted blast of studio AC and diamond perfume became your standard morning welcome when clocking into work, upon so being greeted by the models and seamstresses on the floor of your first stop with your typical “good mornings” and “how are yous”. One of the newer interns approaches with multiple cardboard cup holder trays of coffee, and it didn’t take very long to find the cup with your favorite order, even if it weren’t for the bold lettering of your stage name on the outside.

You finish up your typical greetings making your way over to the dressing rooms where the rest of your stagemates are already gathered looking at the schedule. First on the docket was choreography training, no surprise since your instrumentalists were nowhere to be found, and then after lunch iss… oh wonderful! Outfit fitting! Which meant the whole afternoon with just you and Velvette.

This was going to be a perfect day, wasn’t it?

Speak of the devil and she shall not only appar, she’ll kick the front door down like it cheated on anniversary night and throw what was- probably a brand new Goeccia hand purse in the face of whomever was closest.

“EACH ONE OF YOU BETTER BE FUCKING CLOCKED AND AT YOUR POST IN THE NEXT MINUTE OR YOU’RE ALL SEWING THE ANGELIC!!KILLS LINE BY TONIGHT EVEN IF YOUR FUCKING FINGERS ARE WORN TO NUBS ARE WE CLEAR?! Now where the ever loving fuck is- There she is!!”

“Velvette!!”

The two of you run and embrace in the middle of the room like you had just returned from the great war and reuniting with your long lost lover at the end of a shitty romcom. This display, was one that also became a tradition between the two of you at the start of the work day, one you weren’t ignorant to the handful that still felt the need to eyeroll or squint.

Okay so,, your seeded disdain for Velvette was one you admittedly locked away in the vault of embarrassing memories to reap its head around only when trying to get a good night's sleep. You initially had spent the first month or so practicing every torture method known to man on the images your eyes sent you because of how she talked down to Vox like a dog, this was… before you found out she was an overlord too and suddenly the context of the relationship they shared made sense. A bitter part of the pride that landed you where you are today still wanted to leech onto any grain of malice toward her, eventually turning into a humiliating envy and possessiveness over Vox’s attention. In that span of time you made no effort to get to know Velvette or care about her work, even while she was making the outfits you wore on stage for you and she somewhat mutually felt the same about you.

Luckily for the two of you, there was a third much more obnoxious V that was too perfect of low hanging fruit in the art if feminine hazing for you both to latch onto and find common ground on.

“I think this new hair style might be my new favorite! Locs look good on you~” Compared to how you felt the first time speaking with the prototype that sat in your vanity, the newer model of your synthesizer had a way more diverse voice bank and finetuning that made speaking feel and sound much more natural. Even with the mounds of progress from your prototype to present day, it was still obviously unnatural and robotic. These became factors that slowly mattered less as your gratitude increased, and you were content that not everyone was going to see it that way.

“See? I fucking told that nasty bed bug upstairs that I’d eat butterfly locs but what the fuck would he know when I can read my damn future in his forhead,” Velvette went a total of two minutes of the conversation before she pulled her phone out to check her instagram feed, a new accomplishment. You were proud. “Just so you’re aware by the way, Verosika Mayday announced the release date of her Paint it Pink album like 35 minutes ago and people are already bringing your name into it. You got a lot to deliver with this upcoming tour.”

Lucifer bless Velvette for having the brain cells to keep up with surfing the modern social media tides you continuously wipe out on with every attempt. You could stomach social media enough for your job, but Velvette made sure to get you a top notch social media advisor to handle your accounts to make it seem like you were more active than you were. True as it was that your vocal synthesizer brought a new flair to the world of music; especially in the rise of electronica, techno and pop where your new voice couldn’t compare to any other sinner in the genres, this factor has also lead to a cluster headache of… Let’s just say controversy. Old fashioned demons in particular were the bane of everything you deemed holy just because how fucking annoying they were making their periodic hangups your god damn problem.

Before you could properly offer your gratitude your attention is taken by an obnoxious thump and “A-hem!” in the direction of the dressing room. Turning you can see the green lop bunny ears of your costar and you can assume she’s trying to tell you to move your ass. Drama was the last thing you had energy for so you blow a kiss goodbye to Velvette and made two shakes of a lamb's tail into the dressing rooms.

Today you didn’t need to worry about outfit planning, just something comfortable that you don’t mind sweating in for the better part of the day. A simple pair of running shorts, tank top and loafers should work more than fine for today, hopefully as long as Valentino didn’t decide to sit on today’s choreography exercises…

It wasn’t exactly the norm for dance practices for the remaining member of the V trifecta to sit in and give his shit commentary- kind critiques on your movements and appearances. If it were up to you or any of your coworkers, Valentino wouldn’t be anywhere near your production but alas, contractual standards came first. One of the stipulations upon starting your career as Monarch was your introduction to the Vee network and the ongoing partnership the three overlords held to upkeep their power within hell. Long and short, this meant that with each contract the Vees delt the other two business partner would also have to reap some sort of benefit; typically monetary gain.

In your case, Velvette easily got her reward by using your team as breathing mannequins to advertise her fashion line, not to mention she would ultimately be credited in every comment of the flashy costumes you wore at concerts and venues. Valentino’s side had free royalties to your music to play in his clubs and this usually came along with him having a say in the dances that go with the song. Every fucking time it was a Valentino session you all knew you were in for a long day of overtime, muscle pain, and playing sexual harassment bingo.

Two knocks on the door put your thoughts to a screeching halt.

“Monarch dear, are you descent~” Ah, it was your favorite voice in all of hell~ you run to the door with a skip in each step like a puppy listening for dangling keys outside the front door.

“Never~”

“Are you dressed?”

“Yes!”

“There’s the answer we’re looking for,” You welcome him inside with a pleasant “come in” and Vox follows as such. You maintain a safe distance and subtly restrain yourself by clasping your hands behind your back but you weren’t going to deny, days like today the tightrope beneath your feet of professionalism and your heartache was especially loose. You’re certain the love you felt for the man who saved your spirit was last year's news to everyone in the building, actually your “inappropriate devotion” has been the source of countless catfights among your bandmates.

“Monarch love! Horrific morning isn’t it~” You could listen to him talk all day, and when he approaches you and clasps a hand over your cheek leaning into the touch feels like second nature.

“Every day in the studio is a horrific morning, but I know that’s not what you came to talk to lil’ ol me about, isn’t it?”

“Why, you hurt me! Can’t I just start my morning visiting a beautiful painted lady?” You blink in a moment of silence until he finishes. True you loved soaking in his flattery, but not in feigned procrastination. “Valentino and I spoke this morning, or rather he threw a tantrum because I didn’t tell him I put Pomp and Circumstance on your schedule today..”

Aaand there it is, of course you get to not only work with STI Patient-0, but he was already off to a shit mood to start the day. If the scales of fortune decide to tip your way at all during today you hope this tips in your favor, given the… technique you developed to avoid interacting with him as much as possible.

When you lift your head to meet your reflection, you have to tilt your head a bit higher than you remembered last, and your arms were now coiled around his waist. Oh, it seems matter won over mind again. The hand that once danced feathers over your cheek now caress massages in your scalp. Scandalous, sure. But there was nothing wrong with comforting a friend after a rough morning, right?

“Come, everyone else is already in the studio. Sorry I couldn’t start your day with anything pleasant, I hate being the reason you have a frown. So,” Your vision cuts into frames of bright white and a following zap, once, then twice again. In what feels like an instant Vox disappears and reappears within the electricity, but the second time he holds a brown fast food bag and a bright green M.

“OH MY GOD I LOVE MAMMONALDS! THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOUUU!!!” Stars of reflected light build in your eyes when you saw the bag. Reading the receipt taped to the front you can already tell the breakfast order is your favorite even down to your specific requests that made the receipt go down past the bag but you knew the employees wouldn’t even dare try and get Vox’s order wrong.

“Take a minute to eat and come to the studio, I didn’t get you a drink because I knew you were going to get coffee so I’ll get you a milkshake after choreography, kay?” You nod your head while already pulling out your side of hashbrowns and chowing down like a hamster nibbling a sunflower seed.

It was a sight so cute Vox wanted nothing but to squeeze you so tight your eyes pop out of your skull.

But there was no time to waste. Vox vanishes with a flicker of the lights and bolts yet again, and you take a couple last chews before you’re sure hes gone.

Standing up you make way to the connected bathroom to your dressing room and open the toilet seat. Immediately you shove two fingers into your throat and probe the back until it triggers your gag reflex enough to regurgitate every last bite you took. The slime of cheap grease and burn of overused salt always made you restrain a gag without fail anytime fast food was given to you, but god Vox just would not stop ordering that shit for you. Perhaps there was a chance you sold your “love” for Mammonalds a little too hard the first handful of times he’d gifted it to you; actually, you probably wouldn’t be in this situation at all if you just refused his offer to hand feed you a fry earlier on in your contract, and by all means you wanted to, but your body’s impulse had won that that day.

Tossing out the remaining food out of the bathroom window to the dumpster in the alley below you and flushing and cleaning any remnants of bile, you give yourself one last tidy up and make way to the next place you’re needed: the dance studio.

By some unholy miracle when you stepped out of the elevator, you weren’t met with condensed red smoke to the ceiling and a moth throwing a drink at your head. Drink or a bullet, whichever he thought would please him more.

“Fucking christ all mighty, the “Princess of the Hour!” finally arrives.” As expected, everyone had already gathered long before you while you were caught up with Velvette and Vox, the first one to greet you being the same moody green bunny from earlier, rolling her eyes and doing little jazz hands mid sentence to hammer in her sarcasm.

“Good morning to you too, Tea!! I’m glad you’re feeling well~” You made a decision to go on the dismissive today, Tea in particular always seemed to be in sour moods when it came to you being as chummy as you were with the Vees for a mere contracted soul. At the end of the day you couldn’t give less a shit about that twats petty jealousy issues if she only had the decency to keep it to damn self instead of making it your problem, and your problem at work nonetheless.

“Oh shut the fuck up Tea we aren’t in the mood for this today,” The lanky azure colored salamander man gently flicked Tea on the back of the head with a roll of the eyes and a vertical reptile blink. Out of all the members of your little group, Sirius was the closest thing you had to a voice of reason and it made him the most tolerable out of the bunch. In the corner too engrossed in their own conversations to even pay mind to any of you were two harpy girls, sisters actually. Black Marlia on the left and White Russian on the right, both of them added a much needed flare to your concerts and were the only two who could go airborne long enough to perform choreography above the stage, you liked to think they were valuable assets even if you could count the amount of times either has spoken to you on one hand.

“I hear we have to deal with Valentino’s bullshit today…” Sirius attempts to continue the conversation as the five of you start properly getting into position for when said moth comes in, it would look as if you’d all been wagging your tails for his arrival this whole time.

“You are the third to remind me of his existence today, if that number goes up I might have to fly away and leave you hanging~”

“Oh and here I thought you’d be ecstatic to be commanded by one of your masters for the better part of today.”

“Not the one who immediately calculated my ass and chest size in his head as an introduction.”

“Was he right though-”

“EVERYONE SHUT THE FUCK UP RIGHT NOW!” And just like that, any hope of this being a well off- or even standard Valentino work day just died on arrival. You all do exactly what he says and don’t utter a peep until he says bark. Throughout the early hours of the rehearsal, it was evident that he wanted to be here the least out of any of you which was something that as much as he made your skin crawl, you had to respect. No one likes work already but you could understand how the brand you had was so softcore in comparison to what he was used to, the whole choreograph just looked like a bunch of pillows flopping around on stage to him.

Your understanding should not be confused with sympathy however, simply put knowing how your bosses think is rule #1 when it comes to maintaining a proper work/life balance, and in this case it would be minimizing the amount of halts and rechoreographing out of nitpicks. So, while your brand was one that strayed away from deviance and sex to keep the illusion of ownership, being a bit more risqué than your typical sets here and there wasn’t a crime and would give Val more to look at even if only teasingly.

“No! No! NO THIS IS ALL FUCKING WRONG!!” Yeah who the fuck were you kidding, if you all weren’t having an orgy this jack off was never going to be pleased.

“Did you all learn how to dance in a fucking church?! Are you all such angel cunt lickers that you can’t handle presenting any TNA is that it?!”

Yeah… This was going to be a long work day…

TAGLIST﹕@hurtworld401 @feral-ratatattat-king

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel smut #vox x reader #vox x you #vox x reader smut #hazbin hotel vees #hazbin hotel velvette #hazbin hotel valentino #valentino #velvette #vox #the vees #mdni #🍓my one and only!#🕊dead dove do not eat!#next next!

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theladyofbloodshed · 2 months

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Chapter 3 - Ruhn: Nesta's 25? she should be at the club

The phone vibrating on the bedside table told Ruhn Danaan three things. One – he was late. Two – the mirthroot that Flynn had bought was more potent than first thought. Three – there was a snoring faun next to him.

Ruhn leaned over her bare body to reach his cell. He’d missed the call. And six others. Plus a couple of texts.

Hunt Athalar.

‘Stalked by the Umbra Mortis,’ he groaned, flopping back against the pillows. Micah’s insistence that heads of the city’s departments should exchange contact information was proving more of a ball ache than anything.

The faun beside him – Ruhn couldn’t remember her name – stirred then blinked at him with bleary eyes. They’d had fun last night. Well, as much as Ruhn could remember.

He hit the shower, hoping she might find her way out to avoid the awkward exchange, but when he came to his room with a towel around his hips, the faun was still perched on the edge of the bed.

‘I have some, er, aux work to do. I’ll pay for your cab home.’

Her mouth twisted. ‘You can’t remember my name, can you?’

Ruhn flicked his tongue against his lip ring, stalling for time.

The doorbell rang. Over and over, somebody was buzzing at the door and Ruhn had a good idea who.

‘Official aux business,’ he said, ushering her down the stairs despite her muttering under her breath about him being an asshole.

A storm by the name of Hunt Athalar loomed on the stoop. He took a step back before the faun barrelled into him.

‘Seriously?’

It wasn’t Athalar who spoke but the pretty blonde that Ruhn had met a couple of days earlier. Her arms were folded across her chest. The fae look of you’re-a-worthless-piece-of-shit had been perfected on her features.

‘I need to work,’ said Hunt, turning to her and grazing his knuckles down her arm.

‘I am not a child, Hunt. I will manage a day without your company.’

He winced. ‘Nesta, you can’t cross a road without help.’

Her expression stiffened into stone.

Hunt’s wings spread out, veiling them, but not muffling the sound.

‘Hey. I care about what happens to you. Danaan won’t let anything bad happen. I’ll swing by when I’m done. Buy more cookie dough. Watch a movie.’

Ruhn couldn’t stop himself from frowning. This fallen angel was better known for gutting his enemies, not getting cosy with females and watching movies.

‘Answer your cell when I call,’ said Hunt, turning to look at him. Lightning wreathed his hands in warning. ‘Put some clothes on too. Ruhn – no shit today.’

In answer, he gave a lazy salute. The angel clenched his jaw, but didn’t pass comment. He turned to leave, touching Nesta on the shoulder as he departed, before bolting into the sky.

‘Welcome to my humble abode, Nesta Archeron.’

The place was usually a mess, but under her scrutiny, it seemed worse than usual. Ruhn was painfully aware of the peeling, graffitied wallpaper, the scrunched-up beer cans littering the stained carpet and the stench of smoke and alcohol clinging to the walls. The ashtrays were overflowing. A photo of a naked female was tacked to the dartboard with a dart piercing her head. Nesta peered over his shoulder to look into the living room where Flynn was naked and unconscious on the couch then her lip curled with disgust.

Ruhn guided her through the house, picking up discarded beer bottles along the way. Well, even if she wasn’t from Midgard, Nesta maintained the same stuck-up aura as other fae. He could imagine her and Sathia Flynn looking down their noses at one of the lace doily infested tea-houses the fae liked to frequent.

‘Do you engage in such activities every day?’

‘Not every day,’ he replied. Most nights though. And most nights Ruhn would wake up with a gorgeous female beside him with no memory of her name – but he usually sent them home happy. He had a reputation in the city, but it wasn’t a bad one.

‘Hello.’ Dec sat on a stool in the kitchen, already clicking away on his laptop. ‘You’re the fae who fell from space.’

‘Nesta,’ she replied tightly.

Dec held out a hand for her which she tentatively took to shake.

The three of them sipped at coffee in a painful silence once Ruhn had dressed. Dec kept throwing glances his way to encourage him to say something but Nesta had already made her opinion of him – and his home – clear from the pinched expression.

‘Do you need sugar for your coffee, Nesta?’

At Dec’s question, Nesta’s lips parted. ‘It can have sugar?’

‘Sure. And milk.’ Dec pulled open the fridge to sniff the milk. He retched. ‘We don’t have milk.’

Nesta frowned again. ‘How old are you?’

‘We’re only seventy-five.’

Her brows raised again. ‘Only.’

For an unknown reason, Hunt Athalar had taken a liking to this female who had a stick up her ass so Ruhn didn’t want a target on his back for cutting her loose in the city. It would be long fucking day babysitting her. Ruhn glanced down at his cell. A message from his father flashed on the screen. As if the day couldn’t get any worse.

‘What do you like to do, Nesta?’

She glanced around the kitchen at the piles of dishes in the sink and the overflowing bin. ‘To read.’

Thank Luna.

‘How would you like to see Lunathion’s library?’

She jumped off the stool as if sitting on it had been a punishment. Dec had probably cleaned them once or twice. He hadn’t. Flynn didn’t know what a sponge was.

Just as Ruhn thought of his friend, Tristan Flynn staggered into the kitchen. To all of their relief, he’d pulled on a pair of grey boxers. His chestnut-brown hair was flat on one side from his sleep. At the sight of Nesta in their kitchen, he pointed to himself then Ruhn, trying to remember which one of them had spent the night with her.

Ruhn cleared his throat. ‘This is Nesta Archeron. And this is Flynn.’

‘Oh. The female with the magic sword. Nesta. Hello,’ he said, winking. ‘I’m Lord Tristan Flynn.’

Her eyes went from his head to his toes then back up again, entirely unimpressed. ‘You need to bathe.’

***

The reek of sex and alcohol lingered even when they were far away from Ruhn Danaan’s pleasure house. The male was patient with her at the roads – no doubt in response to Hunt’s reprimand that she didn’t know how to cross. It wasn’t Nesta’s fault that those metal vehicles moved so quickly. But it was her fault that she forgot to look each time. On the whole, Ruhn Danaan seemed… fine. Not cruel. Not overwhelmingly arrogant even for a prince. He yawned his way along the walk, stopping to greet people he knew. But Nesta could not shake her prejudice because he looked so much like Rhysand. Even the low timbre of his voice was reminiscent of Rhysand’s despite the differing accent.

‘I have to meet my father,’ he explained. ‘I’ll save you from that. He’ll be panting if he finds out about the sword and he’ll want you wedded and bedded to… somebody.’ Ruhn cleared his throat again. ‘At the library, you can read books for free.’

‘I know what a library is.’

‘Alright,’ he said. Ruhn clung onto her hood at the approach to a busy crossing to stop her from walking into the road.

‘I can do the ones with the lights,’ she insisted.

‘Yeah, wait for the green male, good girl.’

‘Don’t call me that.’

His violet eyes alighted with mischief. ‘What should I call you?’

‘My name,’ she snapped.

The idea of Ruhn – Rhysand’s facial double – trying to flirt had Nesta wanting to shrivel up and die. No, it was bad enough having to listen to her sister and her mate’s toe-curling conversations. Nesta did not want fake-Rhysand to turn the charm on her.

‘You, er, you’re really not from Avallen, are you?’

‘I am from Prythian.’

‘You know of Fionn though.’

Nesta shrugged a shoulder as they continued down a quiet street dotted with trees as a warm, summer’s breeze swept through it. ‘It’s a story that I heard.’

‘I like stories.’

‘I’m not a good story teller,’ she insisted.

They stopped outside an elaborate building of white stone, made to look ancient even if it was new. A row of pillars lined the front, holding the overhanging roof up. Many stairs led to the entrance doors which were propped open. Ruhn led the way and dropped his voice as he pointed out places she could visit within the vast library. There were sections for artefacts, an archive, ancient books which were kept in glass cases, and rows and rows of books that were free for anybody to browse. From his wallet, Ruhn pulled out a faded card. The handwritten numbers were almost illegible.

‘This should still work,’ he said, taking to Nesta to one of the screens with portraits.

‘A television?’

‘Computer.’ He gave her a queer look. ‘You don’t have computers in Prythian?’

‘Obviously not.’

His tattooed fingers glided across the keyboard too fast for Nesta to make out what he’d done – so she pressed him on it.

‘I’ve used my library card to log you in. Still works after all these years. Good old public funding. You get three hours browsing then it will boot you out. You’ll have access to news journals, the internet, videos, whatever you want. Alright.’

Nesta nodded, not understanding most of what the prince had said.

‘Keep this,’ he said, pressing the small card into her hand. ‘If you want any books or whatever.’

‘When will you return?’

Ruhn shrugged. ‘I’ll send Flynn along to keep you company.’

‘Not him,’ Nesta said quickly. ‘Why can’t the other one come?’

‘Dec has a job. Flynn also has a job but he never shows up anyway.’

Once Ruhn Danaan’s steps faded from the library, Nesta was left in peace. The tranquil environment created by a library seemed a universal thing. She watched workers returning books to their rightful place and thought of her brilliant friend likely hard at work in Velaris’ library. Had news of her disappearance reached Gwyn and Emerie or would they hush it up?

Out of curiosity, Nesta searched her own name. It took an agonisingly long amount of time to find each letter but it yielded no results anyway. Then she searched Ruhn Danaan’s name and found pages upon pages of results about him. There was a birth announcement then subsequent ones about major milestones in his life. The portraits – photographs, she reminded herself – of him showed his glossy, black hair lengthening in each one with more and more tattoos added to his skin. His father, the king of the fae, reminded Nesta of Eris Vanserra. Both shared shining, wine-red hair and a long, thin nose but there tended to be amusement on Eris’ face like he knew a joke that nobody else did. Ruhn’s father appeared cruel and unwelcoming.

Nesta couldn’t help but think of Gwyn again and how this process would streamline her research. Rather than finding obscure references in books, a simple search could be entered and the hard work had already been done. It was magnificent.

Her fingers hovered over the keys, wondering what to search next.

H-U-N-T A-T-H-A-L-A-R.

Hunt had just as many entries as Ruhn did. Perhaps he was a prince of angels.

There were news reports that featured his name as one of the malakim who’d worked on a case in the city. He’d caught many demons from Hel, but also prevented a lot of crime in Lunathion. There was the odd photograph of him – where he looked entirely unimpressed to be photographed. Nesta laughed at that. He’d endured her experiments with his cell phone in good enough humour.

THE UMBRA MORTIS PURCHASED BY ARCHANGEL MICAH DOMITUS

Nesta sat close to the screen, scanning the lines of text to ensure she understood it fully. Hunt was a slave, as he’d told her. But he’d had many owners. The latest, Micah Domitus, was his fourth owner and the governor of the city. She hated the way those words were thrown around. Slave. Master. Bought. It made him sound like cattle.

She should have stopped delving into this. It wasn’t Nesta’s business to know – but she had pulled a loose thread and could not let it go until it was unravelled.

Hunt had fought in a battle against other angels. The general he had served had been his leader and his lover. And he’d watched her die at the hands of her sister. He had been prepared to die for his beliefs, but instead a slave brand was inked to his forehead. What had he endured for two hundred years? When would he be free?

‘Hello, gorgeous.’

Nesta scrambled to close down her search history as the irritating fae male slid into the chair beside her.

‘The Umbra Mortis? I can tell you what you need to know,’ said Tristan Flynn with an easy grin.

‘Shh. This is a library.’

‘Then lets get out of here so we can talk,’ he suggested.

Nesta couldn’t help but roll her eyes at him. He reminded her of Helion. No amount of charm would work on her.

‘Ruhn said you know about Fionn. I can tell you our version of the story.’ He dropped his voice to a whisper, ‘The fae one that’s not in any book or article.’

***

For a slave, Hunt rarely had interest in his day’s work. It could be made bearable by the company in the 33rd, but today, Hunt’s heart wasn’t in it at all.

He’d fired off a couple of texts to Danaan asking about Nesta. He didn’t trust the fae not to dump her or piss her off – and he’d learnt that Nesta wasn’t shy or retiring when it came to letting her mood be known. There had been no replies so far.

‘Hunt, you’re in daydream land,’ said Isaiah, waving a hand through the air.

Hunt spread out the papers in front of him at the table. ‘Because you’ve given me the driest task imaginable.’

There’d been an influx of demonic activity in the last four years so Isaiah had him searching for patterns – the time, the location, the type – through old reports. It could not have been more boring. Hunt wasn’t made for paperwork. Hell, nobody was.

‘You’ve been keeping tabs on our friend from the sky?’

Hunt raised a brow. ‘Is that what we’re calling her?’

Isaiah shrugged. ‘Micah will be away for another week. I’ve not let the word out yet. We’ve not found anything on the sword except that it’s magic and hated Ruhn Danaan anywhere near it.’

That did make him laugh. ‘He’s on guard duty today. I wonder if she’ll feel the same way as her weapon.’

***

‘This is what we call a liquid lunch,’ explained Flynn, as he insisted on being called.

The pair of them had tall glasses filled with crushed ice, brightly coloured juice and strong alcohol.

‘And it is acceptable here?’

‘Oh yeah,’ he said, sipping through a straw. ‘You’re on holiday from Prythian. Enjoy the delights that Lunathion has to offer.’

It was difficult not to enjoy his company. Nesta knew he was trying very hard to be liked, but also had an aura that he wouldn’t have cared if she didn’t like him either. It was different to be with the males from this land. Nesta felt safe with them. She could not imagine being left in Illyria or the Hewn City without harm befouling her. Flynn was a flirt, but his handsome smile was offered to every female with a pulse.

Money seemed no object to him either, so she had to wonder what he did or what he was a lord of. When her eyes had snagged on a dress, Tristan Flynn had wasted no time in purchasing it. A pastry pumped with cream had also been bought for her to snack on as they walked along the Istros counting the otters. He’d introduced her to one of the Mer who basked on the bank, enjoying the sun streaming upon his glistening muscles, but Nesta had been reluctant to get too close to the edge after Hunt had mentioned creatures called Sobeks. It brought up too many memories of being dragged to the bottom with the kelpie.

‘I can’t pay you for any of this,’ she replied.

Nesta took a tentative sip of her drink – and found it to taste delightful.

‘Wire me it back from Prythian,’ said Flynn, winking.

‘I have no money there either.’

‘A kept female?’

How right he was, Nesta thought. Everything in Prythian came with a condition. Look for these items or we’ll dump you in the mortal lands. Train or we won’t let you out. Her food, her lodging, her clothing, her everything was benevolently provided by Rhysand as long as she toed the line and did as she was told.

A female pulled up a chair at their table. Flynn’s demeanour changed at once.

‘What are you doing to this poor female, Tristan? She looks positively morose in your company.’

‘Haven’t you got a rich male to sink your claws into in The Five Roses?’

The female was as petite as she was, with light green eyes that were at odds with her dark hair. ‘I was actually on my way to have my hair done then I saw you tormenting a female and thought I might offer her a lifeline out of your abysmal company.’

Nesta had been about to offer that Flynn was not that bad – a shameless flirt perhaps who thought money could buy her affections – when he announced that their guest was his sister, Sathia.

‘I’ve not seen you before,’ she said, in a tone that suggested Sathia knew all of the fae worth knowing.

‘Nesta is visiting from Avallen.’

‘Father will be overjoyed to hear that you’re courting her.’

A blush stole across Flynn’s cheeks. ‘I’m not. Ruhn is.’

‘He most certainly is not,’ Nesta shot back.

Sathia took hold of Nesta’s hand to examine it. ‘Your nails are ghastly. Have you ever had a manicure?’

Nesta did not know the word. She glanced to Flynn who was staring daggers at his sister. ‘No.’

‘Then we must remedy it at once. Tristan, go and find another female to pant over. We’re busy.’

‘Can’t. Ruhn’s tasked me with looking after her.’

Sathia smiled sweetly to her brother. ‘Then I suppose you can come for a manicure too.’

***

A visit with Einear Danaan always left Ruhn bitter and broken inside. No matter what he did, he was always reduced to a boy who could never match his father’s demands. Ruhn could shake it off, pretend he didn’t care, but he always left his father’s villa with another splintering crack running through him.

He hadn’t planned to spend so long there, but his father had kept him, demanding information about the wolves and vamps. They’d gone over reports then his father had insisted on showing him his working model of the universe. That had kept Ruhn longer as he tried to wheedle out information about Fionn and the northern rift from his father without exposing Nesta.

It was dark when Ruhn finally left the Five Roses. There’d been a couple of messages from Athalar. One asking how Nesta was and another saying he would be later than planned but to stay with her until he arrived.

Ruhn groaned. If she hadn’t killed Flynn in all the time that they’d been together, it would be a miracle.

‘Dec, where’s Flynn?’ Ruhn asked into his cell. ‘He’s not picking up.’

Music thumped in the background of wherever Dec was. Through the cacophony, Ruhn made out, ‘We’re all in the White Raven.’

Hunt Athalar was going to kill him.

***

Sathia Flynn was going to kill her.

They had managed to lose her brother in a nail salon when his patience frayed. He’d given Nesta a card and said it was for emergencies only. It was not like the library card that Ruhn had given her. This one allowed Sathia to purchase anything.

Both her fingernail and toenails had been trimmed and buffed then painted. They’d gone to another shop where Nesta’s hair had been cut an inch or two shorter, but Sathia had her hair painted too and complained keeping it dark was so much upkeep – whatever that meant. They had gone shopping for heeled shoes and clothes that Sathia used her brother’s card to pay for. Then they’d gone to another place where Nesta had experienced pain like no other. Hot wax had been put on her body to rip out her hair.

‘Is it supposed to be this painful?’

They were in the bathroom of a club. She imagined Rita’s to look similar, but music played so loudly that it made the walls vibrate. They had drunk lots of cocktails. Her favourite – and the most difficult to ask for – was sex on the beach. Sathia and her friends had dusted glitter on to her face – and their own. One, Alice, was applying more make up in the mirror. Nesta barely recognised herself with her hair unbound and cosmetics on her skin too.

‘You can go commando,’ offered Sathia.

Nesta narrowed her eyes. She knew what that meant thanks to Hunt. ‘Do males do the same? The waxing down there?’

One of Sathia’s friends, Prunella, swigged at a bottle of wine where she sat on the sink. ‘You’re lucky if they trim.’

‘That’s why you get a vibrator,’ chimed in Alice.

‘What’s a vibrator?’

Sathia squealed. ‘I just love her.’ She ran her hand against Nesta’s hair. ‘Right. Shots and dancing. Let’s go.’

***

Hunt felt his age when he left the Comitium. A day spent at a desk had left his neck and back aching from holding up his wings. When he landed at Ruhn Danaan’s home, none of the lights were on. He bit back his irritation and dialled his number.

‘Where are you?’

Hunt had no doubt that Nesta would be able to hold her own. The issue was she was naïve in their world and he knew what fae pricks were like.

‘We’re out,’ said Ruhn.

‘Where?’

There was a slight intake of breath. ‘The White Raven.’

Fae assholes.

It was a short flight to the Old Square. The owner of the club was a butterfly shifter who was still on the door greeting patrons. At the sight of Hunt landing, with lightning crackling in the air, his jovial expression changed to one of concern.

‘Not trouble here, I hope?’

‘Off the clock,’ he replied tightly. ‘Come to visit a friend.’

‘There won’t be trouble?’

Hunt threw him a bland smile. ‘Let’s hope not.’

He spotted the three fae pricks drinking amongst other females at a booth near the door with Nesta not amongst them. Hunt worked his jaw as he marched over. One day, Ruhn Danaan would learn to grow up.

‘Where is she?’

‘In my defence,’ slurred Tristan Flynn, ‘it was my sister who brought her here. We’re just on guard duty, doing as we're told, Umbra Mortis.’

Declan Emmett, the most amenable of the three, pointed towards the throbbing dance floor. ‘She’s just enjoying the music.’

The others began peeling away from her at the sight of the Umbra Mortis striding through the crowd, a scowl on his face. Loose and free, Nesta was dancing amongst a group of fae females with her gorgeous hair tumbling behind her, without a care.

Gone was the female in leathers with a sword strapped to her spine. Gone was the female who found jeans uncomfortable. She was lost in the music, utterly free. One of the fae had shelled out on a new wardrobe for her, by the looks of the sparkly, black dress that skimmed her thighs and clung to her narrow waist. A shimmer of pink glitter dusted her cheeks.

When Nesta finally noticed the ebb of the crowd as he approached, she finally snapped her attention towards him.

‘Orion!’

Before Hunt could react, Nesta had moved at preternatural speed – faster than fae in Midgard could move – to throw her arms around his neck and lean all of her weight on him. Hunt lifted her off the floor to steady both of them and Nesta pressed deeper into his body.

Nobody had called him Orion for a long time – and never with such warmth.

She kissed his cheek. ‘Have you come to dance?’

‘No,’ he replied over the thump of the music. ‘To see you safely home. I was worried. Do you want to go with me?’

'I will go wherever you lead me, Orion.'

There was little resistance from Nesta who seemed happy to be led through the crowd towards the exit. From the giddy expression, she’d had a lot of drinks under Ruhn Danaan’s care. Hunt pulled off his jacket to protect her from the chill of the night on the way out.

‘Did you have fun with Ruhn?’

Nesta gave him a funny sort of smile with bleary eyes. ‘The Prince of Pricks.’

‘Shh,’ he reminded her as they passed a group of fae also staggering along the path. ‘You’ll get me into trouble.’

Hunt held out a hand for Nesta to take to steady her clumsy steps. Instead, she fell against him, knocking the air from his ribs as her arms came around his body.

‘Thank the Mother that he isn’t like Rhys even if they have the same face,’ she said.

On the walk home, Hunt hoped the fresh air might sober her up but it only emphasised just how drunk she was. Twice, he’d had to grab her before she planted her face into the concrete then she insisted she wanted to walk along a wall so Hunt had held her hand tightly while Nesta stepped across the crumbling brick in perilously high heels like a wobbling toddler. At the end, she leapt into his arms – before he was ready, so the pair had nearly gone down together.

‘I missed you today,’ she said with colour high in her cheeks.

It was just drunken talk, but Hunt would play that on a loop in his mind until he was dust.

It was too far to her hotel. If they walked, they might be there by sunrise with the pace Nesta was setting and Hunt didn’t want to risk her throwing up on him if they flew. The Comitium loomed on the horizon, still a hub of activity despite the late hour. He’d take her to the barracks. It wouldn’t be the first time somebody had been snuck in, although never by him.

‘Are you going to lock me up, Hunt Athalar?’

He grinned at that. ‘Have you committed an offence?’

Nesta gave him another inebriated smile as she clambered up another low wall to walk along. ‘I used to be a very bad girl. So they locked me in the House of Wind and destroyed my home and made me train until I was very good girl,’ she slurred.

Hunt lifted her off the wall before she fell and broke her neck.

‘Who locked you up?’

‘My family. My sisters. Cassian. Rhysand. All of them.’ She threw out her hands like it should have been obvious. ‘They all sat and told me how useless I am. You have become a pathetic waste of life.’ Nesta gave a low laugh then jabbed him in the chest. ‘Not eating won’t bring your father back, Hunt. And – my personal favourite – we did this because we love you. We ruined your life, ruined your future, but it’s because we love you.’

‘Stop,’ Hunt commanded, holding her still. ‘What are you talking about?’

Then it all came out, as if Nesta couldn’t stop herself. How she’d witnessed her father’s neck snap and retreated into herself because she couldn’t cope with the grief. How she drank every single night and took men to her bed to hate herself more. That her family had staged an intervention and forced her to become a warrior even if she had never wanted it. That her sister’s child would kill her but when Nesta revealed the truth, the male she was entwined with forced her to march until she collapsed. If Hunt ever met him, he’d kill him.

Nesta crawled onto the path then flopped onto her back. ‘The whole world is spinning.’

Despite Hunt’s attempts at trying to lift her up, she’d become a deadweight and patted the ground so he’d be beside her.

‘Nesta, we can’t lay in the middle of the path.’

‘Please,’ she begged, voice full of pleading so desperate that it twisted his heart.

What the hell was he doing? Hunt eventually lay next to Nesta on the concrete. The bright lights of the streetlamps blocked out most of the stars so he had the mad urge to fly her all the way to Mount Hermon for a better view. The night before that final battle, he and Shahar had fucked like animals – but Hunt had gone out to look at the stars one last time before the dawn took them. The stars had been stunning. And he had naively took it as a good omen because they’d made him hope of a better future.

‘I ruin everything, Hunt.’

He laced his fingers into hers. ‘That makes two of us then.’

Nesta closed her eyes, her other hand pressing against her forehead.

‘What did you drink today?’

‘Cocktails. Shots. Liquid lunch.’

Oh, she would need a medwitch in the morning to stop the hangover from hell.

‘They didn’t give you any mirthroot? No lightseeker?’

‘I don’t know what they are.’

When Nesta was ready, she pushed off from the ground and scrambled upright again. In the morning, he’d call Ruhn Danaan to give him an earful about getting a female who was lost in their world blind drunk.

From the bare shoulders that her dress exposed, Hunt could see the tattoo on Nesta’s back again.

‘The male who made a deal with you and made you hike - is he your mate?’

Nesta threw up her hands then flopped onto a wooden bench on the sidewalk. ‘He trapped me in a house and laughed at me when I fell down the stairs. He fucking better not be.’

Hunt crouched down in front of her, touching a length of her hair. ‘Let’s get you to sleep. We will talk about it all tomorrow and see if I can help.’

Although, he doubted he’d get this much truth from her in a sober state.

Her mood was swinging to a different emotion every minute so Hunt wasn’t sure which Nesta he’d see next.

‘I don’t think you’d make me carry a heavy bag and make me walk until I collapsed.’

‘Never.’

Her hand touched his face, stroking it gently. Tears welled in her eyes. ‘I did something stupid.’

Hunt caught her hand and kept it cradled to his face.

‘I went to the library and I searched your name. I know why you’re slave. I know what happened.’

It meant Nesta knew about Shahar. Sandriel. The war. The slaughter. Who he was. What he did.

She freed her fingers to touch the witch-ink on his brow.

‘Orion,’ murmured Nesta.

There would come the inevitable revulsion. Some still believed in their cause even if they’d never act on it, but most found it laughable. Each person had a place in life, a standing which would never change. If you were at the bottom, then it was tough luck. Those at the top would always be there. Hunt had been a fool to hope he could change the world. And he’d lost everything as a result.

Tears spilt down her cheeks. ‘I wish there was a Hunt Athalar in my world fighting for people like me.’

‘Nobody wants that,’ he replied, standing and deflecting from the tenderness in Nesta’s voice. ‘Let’s get you to bed.’

The bubble of emotion that Nesta had shown to him was replaced for a strange sort of anger where everything irritated her on the final portion of the walk. When she walked into the hedge, despite his best efforts in tugging her out of its path, Nesta kicked it – then told it off for hurting her leg. At the Comitium, Hunt took her in the elevator but forgot how curious it would make her. When he showed her how to press a button for their floor, she pressed every single one then complained that it was a ridiculous invention for stopping at every floor.

There were some battles that Hunt knew not to engage in.

He steered Nesta into one of the kitchens. It was a small, rudimentary thing for snacks with most meals provided in a mess hall. The toaster worked, so two slices of toast were shovelled into her mouth to try and sober her a little before sleep. Her lips glistened from the butter and she ate with her eyes closed.

‘Shall we watch Bangs and Fangs?’ Nesta asked as she tried to throw an arm around his neck, but managed to collide with the wall instead.

‘Fangs and Bangs. You need to sleep. We can catch a Sunball game tomorrow, if you like. I’m not working.’

‘I don’t know what that is.’

‘You’re in for a treat then.’ He unlocked the door and pushed it open. ‘In you go.’

Hunt made a noise at the back of his throat. Nesta had barely even stepped into the room before she whipped her dress off over her head, tossed it on the bed, then staggered towards the bathroom. Half-way there, she bent over – glorious ass on full display in a lacy green thong – to take off one shoe which she threw across the room then stumbled the final distance.

This was going to be a long night.

#hunt x nesta #hutn athalar #ruhn danaan #tristan flynn #nesta archeron #sathia flynn #declan emmett

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