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#see the err of their way or whatever.

ghosts-cyphera · 7 months

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pornstar!ghost defo gets millions of views because of the way he makes his favourite costar cum on his cock🥴 i don't make the rules🤷🏻‍♀️

"oh, bloody hell."

ghost blew out a breath, his thumb moving to run across his lips. for the past hour his phone had been buzzing so loud in the metallic locker of the gym dressing-room that the front-desk assistant had eventually been forced to come ask him to turn it off.

yet not for a moment had he prepared for—for this.

whatever the fuck it was.

his social media was flooded. twitter, instagram, even his goddamn fucking tiktok account that his coworkers had forced him to create during a drunken night out a couple of weeks ago.

and it was all because of you.

well, because of the most recent video the two of you had shot together.

apparently it was—ghost's brows furrowed, as he read through the comments flooding his posts—relationship goals. apparently it was all that a girl could ever want. apparently the two of you were now... being shipped.

his fingers working fast, he looked up your name from his contacts and brought his phone to his ear. not two rings later you answered the call, a touch of amusement to your voice.

"you've seen it, haven't you?"

he could hear the laughter in your voice—the warmth of it making him feel more grounded as he shook his head. "fuckin' A, love. not sure I should be shitting my pants or feel fuckin' flattered. they're saying that we'll be—shipped."

"that we'll—" your laugh was bright. "oh, they're shipping us now, are they? no it's—they want us to be—together."

together?

"they've already seen me railing the shit out of you in front of—," ghost's words died down on his lips.

oh.

"well I'll be fuckin' damned." the widest of grins tugged at the corners of his lips as he nodded his head, slow. "all because of the way I fuck you, eh?"

"something about the way you look at me when you do." he could hear the smile on your lips as you spoke. "price is reworking next week's schedules to see if he can fit more of us in."

"weren't we already scheduled for—," ghost bit down the rest of his sentence.

"thursday, yeah. but apparently his golden couple takes priority. he's—oh, hold up."

the line fell quiet for a moment, and ghost allowed himself to wet his lips with the deepest chuckle. if he hadn't know himself any better, he would've thought that the sudden heat playing on his cheeks was brought there by you, and not by the workout he had just finished.

it was definitely from the workout.

"ghost?"

your warm call only brightened his smile, and he nodded his head. "yeah, darlin'?"

"I'll see you next week on—," you laughed, "four days."

four fuckin' days.

"alright," he managed out a chuckle. "yeah, alright. I'll—err—I'll see you then, yeah? tell price I said—" thank you. "tell him I said hi."

"I will," you hummed. "ghost?"

"yeah, love?"

"I'm looking forward to next week."

fuckin' hell.

he bit down his smile, for nothing. for there was nothing he could do to control the sudden flutter at the pit of his stomach: to hide the warmth of his voice as he nodded his head.

"me too, darlin'. me too.”

a/n: this is not even smut anymore. this is just—it's just fluff. I'm falling for them so goddamn hard, lmao. / pornstar!ghost masterlist / my inbox is so, so open for all your thoughts about him. 💌

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x you

5K notes · View notes

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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thestarrynightslover · 27 days

Text

Maybe We Could Do It Again

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Word count: 4,632

Warnings: bickering and fluff.

Summary: Jay meets the Reader as they’re both babysitting Makayla for Adam and Kim and they end up tangled up on the ground and kissing.

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the One Chicago shows, or its characters, also not associated with it in any way, or know anyone involved with it.

A/N: Okay, so this is one of the longest fics I’ve written, which might be a little too long but I hope you guys like it and feel free to send feedback! By the way, this is the first time I insert Burzek in one of my fics but I think I got their energy right ;)

(y/n) = (your name) (y/l/n) = (your last name) (y/n/n) = (your nickname)

| masterlist |

“Oh my God, Adam! I can’t believe that even when you’re not supposed to do something you get it wrong!” Kim yelled at her boyfriend.

“What the hell-” He even tried to respond but got immediately interrupted for his bad language.

“Adam!” She hissed again, not believing how he could still curse so much now that the two of them had a child in the house.

“Sorry, sorry!” He said, nervously raising his hands, as Kim already peeked through the kitchen doors to see Jay and Makayla pretend like they hadn’t been listening to every word of their conversation in the living room. “It’s just… I remember you specifically telling me to find someone to babysit the kid, so I did it! How is it possible that I’m the one who-”

“Yes! I did ask you two to do that! On Monday! And do you remember what you told me?” He didn’t dare to say anything. “Oh, no? Because I do! I remember you saying, and I quote:” she said, even making finger quotes to emphasize the whole thing, “‘Where the hell am I supposed to find a babysitter for Makayla? None of my friends have any experience with kids!’” Kim shoved it in his face, making a very good point for herself. But, as usual, Adam decided to go against any sign of good judgment and continue to defend himself. He knew he could never let Kim in on it, but Jay himself was one of those who had already heard the officer saying how much he loved bickering with his girlfriend and getting her all fired up against him.

“No, uh! That won’t cut it! You told me, and I quote: ‘Then hire someone! I don’t know! But you’re the one who came up with the date night idea, so don’t come and throw something that should be your responsibility on my shoulders!’, so I knew that I needed to find someone! Kev and Vanessa are visiting his siblings this weekend, so I thought: why not Jay? He’s good with kids, and he offered to help us with Makayla!” Adam concluded, absolutely proud of himself while Kim just rolled her eyes.

“Oh. My. God!!! You do know he didn’t mean that literally, don’t you?” She was already fuming by that point.

“Err-” He had to admit that he’d never stopped to think about that possibility…

“No one means that literally!!” She shouted, this time, making even the neighbors hear their arguing. “No one means that literally, and, now, you’re just making us both look like the cops who can’t take care of their own kid in front of the entire unit.” She stated, in a lower, tone while pinching the bridge of her nose.

“But this is not the entire unit! This is Jay! Our friend Jay, who had offered!” Adam stood by that argument and Kim had already opened her mouth to shoot a remark back when Jay came into the kitchen.

“Makayla’s distracted with the tv.” He started with that so that they wouldn’t be worried. “Uh... Guys, Kim, you don’t have to worry about me telling anyone about this, okay? I won’t. Besides, I did mean what I said before. I’m here to help. Whatever you guys need. Plus, for someone who had plans of watching a game rerun alone at home on a Friday night, babysitting that cute little girl is almost like hitting a jackpot!” Jay assured, giving them a small smile and shiny eyes headed towards Makayla’s direction. Babysitting a kid, when he was probably never gonna have one of his own, was one of the things that he, personally, missed the most about when Will and Natalie were together. Back when Lindsay lived in Chicago, he used to be sure that, someday, he was gonna find someone. Settle down. Build a family. But, now… After everything that had happened, he couldn’t help but feel like his time to do all that had run out. So, instead of mooning over it, he could gladly babysit Makayla.

“Well, um, thank you, Jay,” Kim started, nervously tucking a string of hair behind her ear, “that’s really nice to hear. And we very much appreciate it. But-” She didn’t get a chance to finish as the doorbell rang and Adam rushed towards the apartment’s entrance to prevent his very excited little girl from opening the door by herself. When he got there, followed by the other two adults, Makayla was already standing on her tiptoes, hand-in-handle.

“Hey! Watcha doing, you little adventurous?!” Adam asked while picking her up from the floor and tickling her sides, which made her become a giggling mess. “You can’t just open the door like that, darlin’! You gotta check on the peephole first,” he said, as he lifted her up enough so that she could look through the hole, “like this. See someone?”

“Yes! It’s (y/n/n)!” She squealed out. “Can we open the door now? Please, Adam?” Makayla asked, shooting him pleading eyes, while her body buzzed with happiness.

“Ah, (y/n/n), right,” Adam said simply, opening the door and fearing that Kim would want to restart the whole discussion with him.

“Hey, princess!” And that simple greeting was all it took for Makayla to throw herself from Adam’s arms straight to yours. “Wow,” you laughed at her sudden movement, which had caused you to lose your balance a little, “you excited to see me?”

“Yes!! Did you bring the bakings???” She asked you eagerly, bakings being what she called your cooking utensils.

“No, not today!” Your answer made her face, almost immediately, turn into a sad frown. “But I brought this!” You told her while lifting up a box that read ‘karaoke set’, above a few drawings of a microphone and musical notes. Seeing that, Makayla’s saddened expression shifted in two seconds, eyes lighting up.

“Look, Kim!” The little girl shrieked, more than ready to have what she already knew was about to be the time of her life.

“Yeah, I see that! Seems like you girls are gonna have a blast…” Your friend weirdly trailed off, as her mind tried to find a quick solution to the mess her boyfriend had made.

“Uh…” Was all that a very handsome man you hadn’t met yet managed to let out.

“Jay, um, this is my best friend (y/n). (y/n/n), this is our friend from work Jay. I’m sorry about the mess, guys, it’s Adam’s fault.” Kim spoke again, bluntly accusing her boyfriend.

“My fault??? Are you kidding??? You told me to find someone to watch Makayla 'cause you didn’t want us to keep bothering (y/n)!”

“Guys! It’s no bother at all, really. Hanging out with this little princess is in my best interest, believe me!” You said, quickly defending your case.

“Well, thanks for saying that, (y/n/n). What happened here is that Adam told me he wouldn’t be able to get anyone,” Kim started while shooting daggers into her boyfriend with her bare eyes. “So, since I wasn’t about to just wait for a miracle, I called and asked you to do it. But someone didn’t think about telling me that he had already gotten Jay to come. And now you’re both here, ugh!” She finished, rather dramatically, while pointing a finger at Adam.

That was, seriously, the best couple you knew when it came to bickering.

“Okay, so, um, it’s not gonna be any trouble. I can leave since your colleague got here first and you don’t need to be stressed on your date night, friend.” You tried to bring things to a peaceful ending before Kim turned it into a murder scene.

“Oh, I do need to be stressed! I need to-” She started to debate but got cut off by Makayla’s cute pleading voice:

“But you can’t leave, (y/n/n)! We’re gonna play karaoke!” The little girl clearly had already gotten worked up by your idea for the night.

“Makayla, baby, please don’t be difficult. You hang out with (y/n/n) all the time, and uncle Jay is already here…” You watched as Adam tried to reason with his daughter while she held you really tight.

“No, uh…” Their friend started to say. Was it too weird for you to be thinking about how incredibly cute he looked when scratching the back of his neck like that? “Relax, man, I can go. I bet that you’re gonna have a lot more fun with her than with me, anyways, Mak.” He completed, talking to your little friend with a sweet smile, to which she reacted with a confused frown.

“But- but why does Jay have to leave? Can’t he play karaoke with us, (y/n/n)?” Makayla asked you poutingly.

“Now that’s something I’d like to see!” Adam started to mock but stopped when Kim punched him in the arm. “Ouch! That hurt, you know?”

“I know! That was exactly the result I was hoping for!” She squealed out sarcastically, “Makayla, honey, you can’t just ask both (y/n/n) and Jay to play karaoke, of all things, with you.” It was lovely to watch Kim interacting so patiently with her kid but the young girl still didn’t seem to understand.

“But why???”

“Well, they don’t know each other, Makayla.” Kim tried again but Mak still wasn’t ready to give it up.

“But they know me!”

“Good luck explaining now, ma.” As soon as the words came out of his mouth, all of you 𑁋 Adam himself included 𑁋 knew what was coming, fortunately, Kim just punched him in the arm again.

“You know, guys, you don’t need to fight over something like this, okay? Uh… Since he’s your coworker, I’m gonna assume that he’s one of the good guys, therefore I wouldn’t really have a problem with hanging out with him…” You said because you were never one to say no to little kids. “I mean if that’s okay with you, too, officer…”

“It’s detective, actually. But you can call me Jay, uh, (y/n), right?”

“Yeah, that’s right.”

“Well, I don’t have any problems with hanging out with you either,” Jay said and, Jesus, was that really his smile? “I mean, Mak should get all the babysitters she wants!” He told her with a wink. It was official. You were so done for the night.

“Ha!” Kim nervously let out a laugh, “let’s go easy there, cowboy! You can’t just come into my house offering the kid everything she wants.”

“Okay, okay,” the detective started to say with a gesture of surrender while the couple started to get out of the house to give you the space to properly go in. “Sorry ‘bout that, ma!” You could have sworn that you saw him tremble 𑁋 just a little 𑁋 under the deadly gaze your friend sent his way. Adam, who seemed to be off the hook for the first time that night, took the moment to laugh and hope that his girl would forget she had been so mad at him.

“C’mon, darling. Let’s get going before we decide it isn’t very safe to leave Mak with those two.”

"Yeah… I'm already deciding that but maybe they'll prove us wrong." Kim said, voice absolutely faithless. "You behave, Makayla!"

"It's more than obvious that she's going to be the best tonight. Get outta here already!" You heard Jay yelling a little in response to her, as you and Makayla started to get the karaoke set up.

But you, being the lucky person you were, obviously couldn't find your way around your friend's old stuff.

"Uh, you need any help there?"

“No! No, not all! Um, I got this!” You quickly responded because you could be pretty skeptical when it came to admitting your weaknesses and, from your point of view, not getting a simple karaoke set to work was a huge one.

“Alright, then…”

“Are you sure you don’t want Jay to help, (y/n/n)?” Mak asked, sounding way more reasonable than you, the actual adult there.

“Um, err, I guess maybe I could use some help… It’s just that this TV setup is quite different from mine…” You said, still unwilling to let how confused you were really show.

“Yeah, I can help!” you heard Jay as he left his spot in the corner of the room. “I was just ordering us pizza but I can totally help out 'cause Adam and I actually shopped for these TVs together, so I have the same one!” He said, this time, already gently getting the device from your hands before you could even react, which was probably him sensing that you wouldn’t give it up so easily, like he could see right through you.

“Okay, well, since you already ordered the pizza, I’ll go make us some juice.” As you said that you got both of your companions making weird faces at you, so you amended: “Or not, because you already ordered soda too… Just keep in mind that if Kim gets mad because of all the junk food that kid is eating, I’m telling on you, detective!” You said, making a point to stare right into his eyes 𑁋 God, they were so beautiful, was there nothing but beauty in this man’s body?

“Okay, so I think we’re all good here with the karaoke! Who wants to go first?” Hearing that you came of your very dangerous thoughts and Makayla jumped up and down, screaming:

“Me! Me! Me!”

“Alright, little lady, then come pick a song!” Jay told her and stood by to help her with her choice.

About three hours later all three of you had already sung your hearts out 𑁋 Jay having had gone for ABBA, which surprised you and Mak, to say the least 𑁋 eaten lots of pizza, drunk lots of soda and had begun watching a movie, cause you told Jay that that always did the trick when it came to Mak falling asleep. But, God, it was hard to pay attention to the movie you were supposed to be watching when sitting next to a guy like that. And he wasn’t just really handsome. He was sweet and kind and funny. Also, he was so good with Makayla. It was like everything you’d always imagined the perfect man being like was right there, reunited in the detective’s goof self. But you couldn't be thinking those thoughts about him. Not when he was so close. And definitely not when your best friend's daughter was lying on both of your laps.

So, in order to calm your thoughts for a minute, you gently put Makayla’s head on a cushion as you got up 𑁋 because she was already asleep 𑁋, and said I’m gonna get started on cleaning over there.” It was indeed necessary since Mak had dropped all of the content of a big ice cream container near the dining table, the ice cream being very sticky and sort of liquid 𑁋 which was obviously beyond your understanding but who were you to judge Kim and her preferences?

"Oh God, lemme help you!" You heard Jay saying, as he quickly made his way from the corridor over to where you were cleaning the floor, by the dining table.

"Ah, there's no need for it. I'm used to spending time with Mak, and, then, cleaning up before Kim sees it." You told him with a sly smile.

"Ha! Well, I don't doubt it! You're really good with her."

"And she's really good at making giant messes."

"Right." He said, chuckling lightly. "But, this time, I bet you felt like there were two kids, huh?"

"Your words, not mine, detective."

"Anyways, I'll help. Don't tell Kim and Adam, cause they might spread it across the district, but I'm actually pretty good at cleaning. Especially, when compared to someone who's doing such a lousy job." At that, you instantly snapped your head in his direction.

"What did you just say?" You asked, pretending to be mad while standing up and raising your sponge, as if it was a weapon you were threatening him with.

"Uh… Uh, d- did you know that pulling a weapon on a cop is a crime?" He asked, trying to play along, but stuttering a little.

"And what are you gonna do?" Now that Makayla was asleep… "Huh? Arrest me?" Jesus Christ, you definitely weren't thinking straight, you thought as you watched Jay drop his mop, also spilling all the soapy water on the floor. He even motioned to take care of it but stopped when he realized that you were, now, standing closer. Closer than it was safe for him to be near a woman like you. So he decided to take a step backward, not remembering the floor situation and slipping. As a reflex, you grabbed his shirt when you were obviously not gonna be able to prevent him from falling.

So, you ended up falling with him. On top of him. Oh God, was that living room always so hot? Your thoughts were cut off by Jay's laugh, it was an open-mouthed laugh, just like when you two were interacting with Makayla. He didn't seem to be the kind of guy who got to laugh too much, especially given his job. But it definitely suited his features. His smile, that bright, was so beautiful.

"So you're seriously not even gonna try and get up? Just gonna stay there staring?" Hearing that, you blushed instantly, because you hadn't even realized you were staring.

"Ah, uh… Right." Now, that was your turn to stutter, and Jay was loving every second of it. He thought you looked absolutely adorable like that. Even more so than you had looked all night.

But you weren't feeling adorable at all. You were embarrassed. By the situation at hand, sure, but, also, by your entire behavior that had, pretty much, gotten the two of you in that position. What was going through your head? The answer was simple: nothing. Or, better yet, Jay's gorgeous face, body, and behavior. Just, Jay being gorgeous all night. Now, what really made you wanna dig a hole and jump right into it was when you tried to get up but the floor was so slippery that you just fell back on him.

Needless to say, he was having a playfield. Laughing like there was no tomorrow. In fact, he had relaxed completely under you, laying his head on the soaked floor.

"You know what? This is pretty comfortable. I think I'll stay right here." It was official: you had no self-shame.

"Are you serious?" He asked, trying hard to hold back from laughing.

"Look, I don't know what else to do, okay? And my brain is clearly affected by your little charm, because I just keep mortifying myself over and over-"

"So you think I'm charming, huh?" Damn it. A thousand times damn it.

"Uh… That's not exactly what I-" You couldn't finish your sentence, as Jay started pulling you even closer to him. Kissing you. Oh boy, how he kissed you…

"Oh. My. God." Both you and Jay jumped away from each other, as much as you could, the second you heard Kim say that, her being followed suit by Adam:

"What the hell is that?!?" He half-asked, half-barked at the both of you, trying hard to not burst into laughter.

"Uh, it's, um, it's not what you're thinking, guys-"

"It's not what I'm thinking?!?" Yeah… It was safe to say that Kim was pissed. "Are you sure it isn't? Because the image actually seemed pretty self-explanatory to me!" As the both of you just kept working out a way to get up from the floor, she continued: "I come back home thinking that everything was gonna be perfect because my daughter had two adults babysitting her! People that I thought were quite responsible but, then, I come home to find those very adults making out on the floor in my living room! My very dirty living room! And, by the way, where the hell is Makayla?"

"She, um, she's in her bedroom. Asleep." Jay finally spoke. "And, about the mess… We were just, uh…"

"Yeah, man, we saw what you were just doing," Adam said, looking like he was having the time of his life.

"No! That's not what he was gonna say-"

"Ah, so the two of you got along so well that now you even know what he was going to say, (y/n)?" Kim said, while glaring at you.

"All I meant was that, well, the place got a little dirty…" Jay started to explain but not fast enough.

"A little???" Kim was really, really mad, you realized.

"But dinner was great!" At that, both you and Kim just stared at him incredulously while Adam started laughing on his way to the kitchen.

"That's what you were going to say???" You ask him, not believing you'd just tried to defend him for some joke. "Kim, I'm sorry things ended up this unfruitful…" You began to tell your best friend, to try and patch things up, when Adam chipped in from the other room.

"You know, darling, Jay wasn't wrong! This pizza is great!" He barked, mouth full. And that's what got Kim to go over the edge.

"Don't you realize what just happened here, Adam??? And, you two! I still haven't heard an explanation on what the hell I just saw!"

"I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry! We were cleaning up and then it just-"

"It just what, (y/n)??? It just happened? That what you were gonna say?"

"As a matter of fact, yes, it is! It just happened because you and your boyfriend made me babysit with this ridiculously hot guy and I'm human! Now, before you have another crisis, Makayla didn't see anything and I'm leaving because I just humiliated myself more than enough for a lifetime!" With that said, and your flight or flee instinct activated — cause you were never much of a fighter —, you did the smartest thing possible and stormed out of there, hoping to be able to get into some sort of protection program for embarrassment victims.

Meanwhile, Adam and Kim simply had to laugh, even more so when they noticed Jay's shocked twinkling expression.

"Jay! What is wrong with you?" Kim asked, taking him out of his daze.

"What?"

"Go after her! If I hadn't been so upset about the circumstances, I would've been the first one to say that what happened over there?" She asked, pointing to the floor. "What happened there was hot." The officer finished her trail of thought bluntly, as if it was the most obvious thing.

"But… What about your living room?" Jay asked, still unsure of what to do.

"Are you kidding me? Look, Halstead, if you promise not to break her heart… I won't hold it against you." Kim stated, making her stance on the whole matter very clear. She thought it was a good way to start apologizing to you after freaking out like that.

"Uh, uh, alright!" The detective rambled, looking like he had no idea of what to do next.

“Go!” With that last push, he left his friends’ house to go try and get the girl.

“You know, this is quite a mess but they do have the potential to be a great couple!” Adam happily pointed out, as he kept eating all he could find.

“Ha! If she’s as lucky as I am…” Kim ironically muttered, as she watched her boyfriend impolitely shoving food in his mouth.

“Then she’s a very lucky lady!” He confidently stated with a grin while all Kim could do was laugh at his messy childish ways.

Outside burzek's apartment — burzek being the ship name you used to tease Kim and Adam with —, you had been slowly walking towards the subway. You wanted to move faster but your mind was too full at the moment. And, sometimes, when you needed to get your head back on straight, you couldn't really do anything else, having a hard time concentrating on your flow of thoughts.

It was right when you were beginning to think you had stopped the spirals in your mind that you heard him: "(y/n)!" You recognized the detective's voice on the spot. How could you not, after how he had managed to disrupt your thoughts and actions all evening? But you weren't about to turn back around and have your very own movie ending with him. You just knew it wasn't gonna play out like that and decided to keep walking in order to preserve the little dignity you still had. "Oh, c'mon! Just give me a minute! Please!" That pleading made you turn around, to let him down more politely, which ended up with the two of you almost hitting each other. Once again, that same night, he was too close to you. The proximity with his body sending all sorts of heatwaves through yours. He seemed to be feeling it too, given the way he started to look at you, the damn smirk back on his lips.

"Nu-uh. You don't get to look at me like that. Not after what it did to me the first time."

"Huh. Care to elaborate on that? How exactly am I looking at you?" He asked, moving even closer to you altogether. "And, more importantly, what exactly did it do to you?"

"You don't need me to answer any of that." You pointed out, crossing your arms over your chest — clearly going into defensive mode.

"Maybe not," he started, tilting his head slightly — the damn smirks never leaving his face. "But. I'd like to hear it nevertheless."

"Well, you're not going to."

"Ah, okay." Wait, was he really giving up that easily? "Then maybe I can just try and see what it does to you one more time? For the sake of curiosity." All you could think to say was an enthusiastic 'Yes, please!' but, when he started leaning in to kiss you, you seemed to come back to your senses, pushing him away and taking some steps back of your own.

"Oh my God! Don't you get it? We can't be doing this right now. Not after the way I left things with Kim because of our previous, um, actions!" At that, Jay just gave you a confused look. "I stormed out of there but just because I was feeling too ashamed about it all and I honestly don’t think that I want any more embarrassment for a lifetime.

“Okay, okay. I get that but maybe it would feel less embarrassing for you if you knew that I was feeling all of that too: all of that buzzing energy and the goddamn butterflies and everything. You were doing exactly the same I did to you to me. And, as embarrassing as it was to be caught like that by Adam and Kim, I still can’t say I regret any of it. In fact, I was thinking that maybe we could do it again? You know, minus all the mess and the kid 𑁋 I mean, I adore Mak but that would be-”

You didn’t care to listen to the rest of all he had to say. Instead, you threw yourself into his arms, even making him lose his balance for a second, and started kissing him, except that this time it was a slow, hot, and thought-through kiss. And the second you did kiss him, you heard clapping and whistling from afar, as you turned to find Kim and Adam there, once again witnessing you and Jay kiss. And that had Jay whispering to you:

“Let’s get out of here?” To which you responded simply with a:

“Yes, please!”

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ju1cyfru1t · 8 months

Note

Hallo! I love your headcanons and I would like to request the boys either receiving a cheek smooch from reader as thanks for saving them or accidentally smooching their crush (how would the boys react).

Thank you! (°▽°)

Thank youuuuuu🫶🏻 hope you like it

Rise! Donnie, Leo, Raph, and Mikey (separately) getting a kiss on the cheek from crush! reader after saving them

Fluff! :D gn reader

You ran down a hallway in the foot clan base, panicking as you looked around for somewhere, anywhere, to hide. They said they wouldn’t leave you alone! You hear running behind you, but you know it isn’t those idiots.

You come to a dead end and your stomach drops as the footsteps are slowing down, approaching you hastily.

The soldier swings his sword, the blade grazing your skin as your arm reached up to defend yourself and knocking you to the floor with a loud yelp.

“Y/N? Y/N! Is that-“ an all too familiar voice calls from down the hall, taken aback seeing you on the ground before jumping into action to protect you.

Raph

“Y/N! Are you ok? I’m so sorry, we shouldn’t have left ya! I didn’t even realize-“ Raph kneeled beside you, grabbing your arm gently and observing it, his face held nothing but concern.

“ Raph, shhh it’s fine, I’m fi- oh!” Raph swiftly picked you up to carry you away.

“We better get ya to Donnie so he can check out that cut. Even though I handled it, like a boss.”

“Yeah, you really did.” You rested your hand on his plastron, leaning up and planting a small peck to his cheek. “Thank you for saving me, Raph.”

He was not expecting that, a shiver ran down his spine and his body heating up at the gesture. Raph felt like his heart might explode in his chest, he couldn’t even look at you right now but he couldn’t help but smile giddily.

“err…yeah, no problem!”

Mikey

“Oh mi gosh! Are you okay?! We were so worried!” Mikey helped you to your feet, slinging your non-hurt arm over his shoulder to help you walk. Even though you didn’t really need it…

“Yeah, I think so…Mikey?” He looked up at you, evidently still worried, “thank you for rescuing me.” You leaned in, giving him a small kiss on his deep green cheek.

“Of course! I-“ The realization hit. Michael blinked a few times with sparkling eyes, a genuine, loving smile spread across his face. “Anytime! Now, let’s get back..”

Donnie

Expect a lecture.

“Y/N! Are you hurt?” He kneeled beside you, grabbing your arm and sliding down his goggles to observe the small cut.

“No, Donnie, I’m fine.” Donnie let out a breath of relief.

“What were you thinking?! I told you not to wander off!” The change in attitude was concerning but you gasped in offense.

“You left me! I didn’t wander off!” Donnie helped you to your feet and you brushed yourself off.

“I-…That is not the point!” Oh, but it was.

“Look, I’m really sorry you had to come save me, Donnie, but I’m ok!” You knew he was just worried, even if he didn’t show it. He rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. “Ok! Ok.”

“Come on, let’s go.” You grabbed his hand, pulling his arms uncrossed. You kissed his cheek quickly and softly, “Thank you, Donnie.”

Donnie just stood there frozen, his jaw dropped in shock. He slowly reached his hand up to touch where you kissed him, feeling the heat in his face. He couldn’t believe it. He was overwhelmed, he felt so many emotions all at once.

“Donnie, let’s go!” “Right…sorry.”

Leo

Probably forgot he was saving you in the first place.

“Oh yeah! Leo-1, foot cla- oh my god, Y/N!” He rushed over to you, kneeling and placing a hand on your shoulder as you sat up.

“Ugh, thanks, Leo…” you groaned, pushing yourself up all the way to stand.

“Yeah, kind of a hero, but it’s whatev..” He smirked playfully, inside he was relieved that you were ok. “Shouldn’t your knight in shining armor get a little reward?” He tapped his cheek, winking at you.

You rolled your eyes, but gripped his shoulder as you complied and kissed his cheek. “We should go find the others, Leo.”

He stared at you with wide eyes, he never expected you to actually do it but hey, he wasn’t complaining. Definitely would brag to his brothers later. He was screaming on the inside.

“Are you just gonna stand there and gawk?”

“…yeah.”

“..Well, stop. You look stupid.”

——————————————————————————

Still working on requests!

#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt x reader #rise donnie #rise leo #rise mikey #rise raph #donnie hamato #tmnt #rise donatello #rottmnt #leo x reader #teenage mutant ninja turtle imagine #tmnt leo x reader #raphael #rise michelangelo #rise leo x reader #rise mikey x reader #rise donnie x reader #rise raph x reader

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angsthology · 4 months

Text

Pay Attention to Things That Most People Ignore ☆ LS2

logan sargeant is most definitely not most people. it was time he started learning how

characters/pairings; daughter of poseidon!reader, chiron, mr. d, son of apollo!logan, theo (oc), son of athena!oscar.

warnings; monsters, typical pjo-type violence, logan is hopeless but that’s okay! some chb innacurracy sorry i havent read the books in a while, err very rushed writing im sorry, LAWD this is a mess i tell u 😭 perhaps i hate it — 3k words.

a/n; is the title... an all-american bitch lyric? yes. why? im not good and titles and i went to that song in instinct... for no reason. also this was based on a request — though i do admit its a little bit different as i would (hopefully) be making a part 2 hehe. by now im realizing how this title prob has nothin to do with the story

Over the years, she’s come to accept her life. Did it hurt when it felt like her entire life ended? Of course. Does it still hurt when she turns on the television to see them basically rubbing it on her face? —Whatever.

In theory, she probably could’ve gotten away with it had she not been a daughter of one of the big three—thanks a lot, dad. —but it was proven one too many times that it was not safe for her or any of the other kids. If it didn’t put anyone else’s life at risk, she would’ve disobeyed her mother, she really would (she was a child, she really hasn’t grasped the full concept of what other people would feel).

But, you know, oh well.

It’s sixteen years later and she still has that lingering grudge in the back of her head as the screen plays another Grand Prix — another Grand Prix she could’ve probably been a part of.

She tried, she really tried so hard to forget about it, to let go of it, but again, it was proven to be way too hard to let go of something she had an actual chance of, an actual good chance.

Though it might be hard to let go, she couldn’t really complain much about the life she actually had now.

Sure, it gets pretty lonely sometimes being a forbidden child, there weren’t exactly much of them (that are known and living at camp). But she had everyone else, despite practically being an only child at camp, to her everyone else there were her little siblings—of course, that probably has something to do with the fact that she was the oldest camper and the one who has been there longest.

When she heard a set of the all-too-familiar clops her heart dropped from its current fast-paced beating.

She quickly closed your laptop shut, cringing when you heard how loud of a sound it had made. That was it. She didn’t even try hiding her disappointment in herself. She slowly emerged from under the blanket with her lips tightly-wound shut, bracing herself with whatever the Centaur will have to say, her mind playing a quick telepathic farewell to her laptop.

“Hello, Y/N.”

She sighed, “Chiron.”

“Where and how?”

She swallowed the pre-existing nerves in her throat, “Mr. D.”

He hummed in response, so she continued.

“A pack of Heineken and two bottles of Jack Daniels.”

“Hm, good picks.” She responded lowly under her breath with a small ‘yeah’ as Chiron walked closer to the head of her bed near the bed-side table—his hooves making clopping noises each step.

The silence was taking too long to her liking so she just went to get it over with, “So, you’re gonna take it away from me?” she paused, then mumbling under her breath for herself, “—it’s probably another Red Bull win, anyway.”

Apparently, it was loud enough for the Centaur to hear, making him chuckle.

Surprisingly, he didn’t mention anything else about the laptop, “Who do you support?”

Hearing the question quickly made her look up from her fidgeting hands to see the smile on his face, she screwed her brows in confusion as she continues to look at Chiron for—something. Then, realizing that he was still waiting for an answer, she shook her head.

“Uhm—well, uh—”

“You think that Lando will ever get a win?”

That seemed to loosen her up, “Ugh, Gods, I hope. I’m getting exhausted over here—you know, sometimes I really wish I could ask the Oracle about it.”

He chuckled then which made her crack a smile.

When it died down, Chiron looked at her smiling face. He couldn’t help but frown a little, he knew how she felt about racing, he knew how she still feels about it.

“Y/N.”

She looks up at him, “Yeah?”

“So, I am aware that your birthday is nearing…”

“I mean… why wouldn’t you be? I’m here all-year-round.”

Chiron cleared his throat at her interruption, giving her a look.

“Sorry.”

He acknowledged and continued, “I am also aware that it lines up with a certain event…”

She raised an eyebrow it that, almost guessing what that said ‘event’ was.

“So,” he stopped, initially had her thinking he was just pausing but when he left out the door of her cabin she raised her hands as if saying ‘what gives?’

Seconds passed and it seemed like Chiron wasn’t going to come back any time soon so instead she stumbled off of her bed to quickly catch up to the Centaur that was headed to a building—the girl almost caught up to him, almost following him into the building but he was already back out in a good few seconds, stopping her right in front of the set of stairs, raising both her hands in question once more, “You just left. ‘So’, what?”

“I have it arranged that you will be attending the Miami Grand Prix.” He smiled as he handed her a lanyard.

She swore her eyes looked like it could’ve popped out of their sockets in a matter of seconds. She couldn’t believe what she was holding; a paddock pass. She couldn’t believe Chiron had done this for her considering how careful of a man (well, half-man) he is especially with her being a forbidden child. This was about to turn into the best birthday yet.

When she looked up to the smiling Chiron, her mouth still hung open in shock but her arms immediately wrapped around the man’s body in a bone-crushing hug.

She didn’t know how many ‘thank you’s that spilled out of her mouth but next thing she knew he was hugging her back with a chuckle escaping his lips.

After a few more ‘thank you’s from her, she pulled away smiling at him, “I thought you’d rather keep me here forever, why now?”

He cleared his throat, “Well, you are turning twenty-one, not many of you reach that kind of age—don’t tell them I said that—so I’d like to make it a bit more special.”

Still smiling, she looked at the paddock pass in her hand again, “You don’t know how much I appreciate this, Chi. Thank you, again.”

Being there felt… odd… unnatural.

She always thought if she were ever walking through the paddocks she would be walking as a driver.

What was even more odd was she felt her senses tingling, like she was being watched.

It was a bustling crowded place with many more interesting people compared to her, so it was weird to her that she felt like she was being watched of all people.

But alas, she brushed it off. It didn’t feel like anything bad—if it were, she would know—so she’s just going to have to save that thought for later.

She had to remind herself why she’s here; daydream in real-time of what could’ve been.

Yeah, she weren’t really keen on letting that go.

That is, until she was into her head she failed to notice the person—and group of people that came with said person—she was running into.

Before she knew it, a strong arm was holding her back with too much force for her liking, the action itself almost kicking in her self defense instinct until the person she did bump into pushed the hand away.

He was now talking to her, she assumed, but she was too focused on the person who had pushed her away.

Something about him felt… off. He was what she would count as freakishly huge for a normal human being, her eyes couldn’t help but recalculate the large man over and over until eventually the person that has been trying to get her attention snaps her out of it.

“Sorry, that’s Theo, he’s like that. I swear he doesn’t mean any harm.”

The scowl she hadn’t realized that made it’s way to her face slowly dropped as she slowly move her gaze to the person that was talking to her.

When their eyes met, she swore she saw a flash of something pass by his expression.

“Yeah,” she finally let go of this ‘Theo’ person and found her words, “Sorry I bumped into you.”

“That’s fine.” There was a brief silence across them until he cleared his throat, “I’m Logan, by the way.”

“Yeah, I know. You drive for Williams.” She replied flatly.

He cleared his throat again, scanning her for the shortest moment, “Do I know you?”

She looked to his eyes again with a small squint. “Most likely not. Good luck, bye.”

Before he could say anything else she was already speed-walking away. And for some odd reason, Logan found himself watching her walk away before getting pulled away himself just in the same time as the girl turned around to give a watchful eye.

It was getting annoying. This was supposed to be a weekend to enjoy but she could not help but feel that uneasiness creeping up on her. Over the years she had somewhat mastered the ability—well more the ability mastering her—of sensing bad things, whether that was events or creatures alike.

So, to simply put that together, that’s how she found herself sneaking around the Williams garage. Not hospitality, garage.

From years of quests here and there, many hours of weapons training, and not to mention capture the flag schemings with other campers, she had mastered the skill of being sneaky. It really did work well in her favor.

What she didn’t expect was to be completely entranced the moment she got into the busy garage; it was the first time she was seeing a real life-size F1 car in real-time.

Everything was so enchanting to her, it felt like she was reliving her childhood dreams all over again. When she had gone through with her plan, she didn’t really register the fact that she was going to go face to face with an actual working Formula One garage.

She really tried to stay focused on the task at hand but it really was in her blood to be unfocused.

“Hey!”

Somehow, just somehow, she had heard his voice over the loud noises around her and just somehow, she knew he was addressing her.

Immediately, she tried to hide or duck behind something—anything just so she didn’t have to face him.

Before she knew it a hand was gripping her upper arm and pulling her somewhere quieter and she was met with green eyes that looked at her with suspicion.

“Are you like a fan or something?”

She was taken aback by his words.

“…what?”

“Are you following me?”

“What—no. I mean not you specifically—why did I say that.” she whispered the last part to herself. If she was being honest, she hasn’t really been brushing up her skills in socializing with anyone else that weren’t the campers.

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing! I—”

Their conversation—if you could’ve called it that anyway—was interrupted by the same man she had been suspecting from earlier.

“There you are.” It was the first time she was hearing his voice and just by that she already knew that they were going to be in big trouble. His voice was low and unnerving, saying the words as if he’s been searching for them not for worried purposes rather unfortunate ones.

Logan didn’t seem to have the same feeling as her as he looked more relieved among other things to see the man. “Theo!” he greeted while throwing his hands in the air, “What’s up, man?”

Fortunately for Logan, Theo wasn’t exactly paying attention to him instead looking at the girl in front of him instead.

When he noticed he tried to interfere, “Oh, no, don’t worry about her, she’s not harmful.” He then realized he didn’t exactly know this girl so he looked at her with questioning eyes, “You aren’t, right?”

Except her focus didn’t waver from the big man that looked at her with a stare that tried to kill.

Logan, still clueless, looked between the two back and forth in confusion until Theo said something that really caught his attention.

“Daughter of Poseidon.” Theo growled.

Logan’s head couldn’t snap towards her faster.

“Shit.” She mumbled under her breath.

Before they knew it, she had grabbed a hold of his hand and running away with it, Logan still very much in shock at this new information he attained.

Through empty places and crowded ones, the girl forgot that the man she had ahold of weren’t just anyone but a very real and hard-to-miss Formula One driver. Sure, he was a rookie but a driver nonetheless.

But she couldn’t care less about the attention she was gaining; she was far too busy running for her life than think about cameras and the public.

“What the hell was he talking about? Poseidon?!” she didn’t answer his panicked question so he continued instead, “Are you a half-blood too?”

The ‘too’ in his question was what finally caught her attention but still, she didn’t answer him, only cursing herself for not noticing one when she saw one.

Just when she thought they had lost them, the monster once disguised as Theo was standing there at the end of the opening, she and Logan had slipped in.

Next thing she knew she was fumbling around trying to fight off the apparent Giant that was Theo.

“What the hell are you doing there, mind a little help over here?” she yelled over at Logan who was pretty much… useless in the corner.

He continued to panic, looking for anything he could use to get the Giant off of her.

Suddenly, while she was struggling to get the Giant’s grip off of her, the force stopped as a cloud of mist poofed where the monster was once before. She quickly scrambled herself up and was met with a figure in McLaren clothing holding a gold-dust colored weapon pointing at her.

“Oscar Piastri?!”

He didn’t answer her, dagger still pointing at her direction, “Who are you?”

Putting her hands out in defense she explained herself, “I respect that.” she commented, “I’m Y/N L/N, I am the daughter of Poseidon,” then she cautiously pointed at the Australian, “I’m assuming you’re a half-blood too.” she nodded at him, “Who do you belong to?”

Oscar then slowly lowered his weapon, his trust building by the minute, “Athena.”

Then both of them turn to Logan simultaneously.

“No!” he got defensive immediately, “I want to know what just happened!” he pointed accusingly.

All of a sudden, it just finally hit Oscar, “Poseidon?!”

The sea god’s daughter made a face and ignored the Australian, “What do you mean what just happened? Typical demigod stuff!”

The look on his face made her double-take, “You… do have occasional encounters with monsters here and there… right?”

When Logan’s expression doesn’t change, she turns to Oscar.

“I have this for a reason.” He said slowly, showing her the dagger. “—and, well, if I’m being honest, that has never happened before.”

“Shit.” she shakes her head in disappointment then pulling out her phone, “I need to make a phone call.”

She left the two men by themselves and went ahead as the line rings a couple of times before getting an answer.

After a brief conversation—that will continue later for details—the girl locked her phone and walked towards the two drivers.

“You’re coming with me this summer. It will not be up for debate and don’t worry about your… duties, I have it covered.”

Logan was quick to stop her explanations, “Wait—what—no! At least explain what the hell that phone call was about. You can’t just drop all that on us and expect us to be okay with it.

She rolls her eyes, “I’ll explain later, right now, you two have a job to do.” They didn’t object to that, the three of them walking out the pretty-hidden space the Giant had decided to corner them before.

Oscar stopped just outside, “I can take care of myself if anything else decide to come out and attack me, you should probably go with him. And uh, I actually need to talk to you,” he pointed at her, “—later. Not exactly letting you off the hook that easily.”

She didn’t complain.

The two walked in silence, every once in a while getting stopped for a picture and such, until Logan speaks up.

“Apollo.”

She turned to him, eyebrow raised.

“My dad.”

“Oh.” She paused then comments, “Fitting.”

He didn’t know what it was in her voice, it didn’t sound exactly like a compliment but he wasn’t sure if it was an insult.

Whatever, he shrugged it off.

After that, they both went into their own train of thoughts.

Without noticing, they both sucked in a breath in unison.

“I’m sorry for—”

“I think you should—”

The two quickly stepped back from whatever it was they were going to say, heat rushing up their necks. They kept walking on the awkward silence that fell upon them until Logan re-focused his attention and remembering what she had said—well, what she almost said earlier.

“Wait—‘sorry’? What were you apologizing for?” he turned to her who was now ducking away from his eyes, her own focus stayed on her fidgeting hands.

She made a noise before finally finding her words, “It’s just—this always happens, you know. I’m a forbidden kid, I attract the worst kind of trouble there is for half-bloods. And earlier; I had brought it to you and Oscar.” he was going to say something to ease her guilt but she beat him to it, “I’m just glad that monster didn’t hurt any of you.” She threw her hands in the air, “I mean, it’s qualifying day for Gods sake! —maybe I shouldn’t go to the race tomorrow.” She mumbled the last part to herself, though not quietly enough that the driver didn’t hear.

Logan was taken aback by her statement, giving him an opening on his almost-offer.

“What—no! Why not?” he asked.

“Look, it’s bad enough that there’s two demigods in one place; adding a forbidden kid in the mix won’t really make it any better. I still want everyone to have a safe race. Who knows what kind of other monsters I could attract.”

From every point of view Logan could gather, it was simply a fact that this girl knows about their world far more than he did, far more than Oscar did, so he couldn’t really be the voice of judgement in whatever she had to say. But… he wanted her to stay.

It calmed him down for some reason, knowing someone shares the same—if not, worse—fate as you.

So, he tried to find a reason, a good reason to make her stay. Of course, he wasn’t a pro at this half-blood thing so he offered something that he was familiar with. He gave her a more… human reason.

“I think you should stay.” He blurted.

“Logan—”

“Dude—is it alright if I called you that?”

“Uh, go nuts.”

“You deserve to have some fun, watch a race! I’ll even have you as an official Williams guest!”

She hummed with a smile creeping up.

“And if you’re worried about trouble, that’s fine. We can always handle trouble! We are all trouble-bound any way, better face them now than later! Plus, I think it’d be good if you could teach us the basics early.”

She felt the warmth spread through her chest. It’s been a while since she felt someone so welcoming that wasn’t anyone within Camp Half-blood. It was nice. He was nice. Almost made her forget that she was in the place she was meant to be in.

Her heart felt wholesome, but didn’t make it show, her mouth couldn’t stop the comment from escaping her mouth instead.

“You really want me to stay, huh?”

#logan sargeant #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant x you #ls2 #ls2 x reader #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 #formula one #williams racing #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1

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thepixelelf · 6 months

Text

warnings: story starts after a car crash. wc: 1.6k

[sooo, what did I miss?] The first thing you notice when you come to is the acrid fumes in the air. They tickle your nose and rouse a cough from the deepness of your chest, which travels up your throat and comes out as a choke. Your head feels like it's filled with seawater -- like it's been drowning for hours, but you can't let the pain and grogginess hinder you from moving. You have to get out of your car if it's smelling this much like gasoline, and fast.

Your entire body feels stiff. At first, you try to flex your fingers, get the blood pumping enough to make use of them at all. Opening your eyes proves to not be much help. The fumes sting against your eyeballs, and you can't see past the engaged airbag anyhow. Instead, you keep your eyes screwed shut and grunt as you lift both arms to push the deflating airbag out of your way. On muscle memory alone, you fumble for the key in the ignition. Your fingers, for a few seconds, are too weak to twist the key, but after a few determined yanks, you successfully turn off your car. With one possibility of an explosion knocked off the list, you heave yourself off the car seat and shove your body into the driver's side door, thankful when you can open it just fine.

Whatever you'd hit after veering off the road, at least it didn't--

Fuck, why did you veer off the road?

As you fall out of your car, hacking up a storm, having inhaled too much smoke, you try to gather your memories together, but find nothing. There's this lingering feeling... You know something made you jerk both hands on the wheel and swerve off the freeway.

You just don't know what.

Deciding that the memory will probably come back to you later, you stumble a good number of steps away from your car and collapse once again to catch your breath. The cool night air does your lungs well, easing the fire that's still burning in your chest little by little. A metallic taste coats the inside of your mouth. You'd bitten your tongue during the crash.

The roads around you are empty, but what did you expect at sometime-past-three in the goddamn morning? You'd been... yes, you were on your way to the other side of the city, choosing the freeway over the hustle and bustle of traffic in the city streets. Seungcheol had called you.

Well, no. One of Seungcheol's friends had called you using his phone. They asked you to come pick him up from the club they were at because he was apparently "blasted". Though, he was lucid enough to have his friends call you rather than his older sister, who you suspected would chew him out for drinking during his university's exam season.

Even though you're closer to Seonhui, you tend to err on the side of the "cool uncle" type to Seungcheol, despite being only four years older than him. You know, the type of person you can call to pick you up from the bar without getting upset at you for being there in the first place. Someone who has no stake in any of your life decisions, so they get the privilege of not having to judge you for any of them.

He'd said something about Seonhui -- you had heard his voice yelling in the background of the call. Something about how she didn't have to know and about something important he had to tell you when you showed up.

You groan thinking about him. Poor guy; now his sister actually does have to know because her friend is an idiot who drives off freeways for no discernible reason. Feeling around your pockets, you sigh in relief when you find your phone. There's no way you'd want to search your now hellmouth of a car for it.

You know the logical thing to do first is call emergency services, but you could be on the phone with them for who knows how long. Might as well tell the person who's depending on you that you can't make it. Dialling the most recent number isn't difficult, really, although you're starting to feel the chill in the air. You shiver as you bring your phone up to your ear.

"You've reached the voicemail of--"

His voice interrupts the automated one. "Choi Seungcheol."

"--please leave a message after the tone."

You frown at the beep that rings in your ear. Seungcheol should be looking at his phone if he's waiting for you to pick him up, or at least have the ringer on. You wait only a few seconds after hanging up to call him again.

This time, the low trill rings twice before he picks up.

"...Hello?"

You're a bit out of it at this point, having just crashed your car and all, but you think he sounds... slow, like he just woke up, but also hesitant. Since you can't think of a reason he'd sound like that, though, you just ignore it.

"Hey, listen," you say, voice raspy from all those noxious fumes. "I can't pick you up anymore. Sorry"

He doesn't respond for a moment.

A long moment.

"...What?"

He must be pretty drunk.

"I got into a little accident. Princess--" That's what you, Seonhui, and Seungcheol affectionately call your shitty 2007 Honda Civic. You look over at your still-smoldering car and grimace. "--she's done for."

More silence. It's strange... there's no sound in the background, either. Did he move outside?

"Anyway, you're gonna either have to bite the bullet and call Seonhui or maybe try an Uber--"

"Is this some sort of sick joke?"

Your words come to a halt at his sudden, bitter tone, and you let out an incredulous huff of a laugh. "Look, man, I crashed Princess on the side of the road, so I'm sorry" --your tongue curls sarcastically around the apology-- "that I can't pick you up from your drunken bender."

"How do you know about Princess?"

"What the hell are you on about, Seungcheol? How do I know about my car?" An exasperated breath escapes you, and you choke on it for a second. After the short coughing fit has cleared, you bring your phone back to your ear. "You're drunker than I thought. Don't you have an exam soon or something?"

"Exam-- who is this?"

That makes you pause.

"Seungcheol," you say, simply. "It's me."

Another moment of quiet passes, and you wonder to yourself if you've suffered a concussion.

Then he asks, "What's my favourite food?"

"What does that have to do--"

"Answer the question."

Sighing, you wrap your free arm around your middle in a futile attempt to stay warm. "You tell everyone it's pork cutlet, but I know for a fact that you keep a stash of white chocolate in your room."

You hear him exhale. "Fuck."

"I don't underst--"

"Where are you?" he asks, a frantic tone to his voice now.

"Umm..." You glance around. "Highway 216... close to exit thirty-four."

"Don't move. I'm coming to get you."

You shake your head, struggling to keep up. "What? If you're calling me an Uber, don't bother. I have to call EMS to file the--"

"Don't," Seungcheol insists, and you have no idea why, but you feel inclined to listen. "Listen to me. Do not call anyone. Wait until I get there."

"There's a fine if you don't report an accident in twenty-four hours."

"Trust me." The sound of a car door slamming shut on his end of the line only gives you more questions. "You don't need to bother."

It takes only fifteen minutes for Seungcheol to find you, and by then you're shivering from head to toe.

A car you've never seen before pulls over and parks hastily near where you're standing (the cold ground got a little too cold). Its four-way flashers turn on before a familiar-ish figure exits and starts making his way towards you, silhouetted by the car's headlights.

"Since when can you drive?" you call out first, since it's definitely a surprise to you seeing your friend's little brother behind the wheel. You could've sworn Seonhui was whining about his lack of license a week ago. "And-- wait, should you be driving? You were just drinking--" He steps even closer, and you see the wisps of his hair lit by the headlights behind him. "Are you blond? When did that--"

You don't get the chance to finish your question. Seungcheol pulls you tightly into him, his hand on the back of your head pressing your face into his coat so all you can really say is "oomph."

Seungcheol's never really hugged you before. At least, not like this. His fingers dig into the fabric of your clothes, like he's clutching desperately to something that will slip from his grasp if he loosens his hold even in the slightest.

It faintly registers to you that he doesn't smell like alcohol at all.

You try to speak, muffled as you are against his coat. "Seungcheol, what--"

"I dyed my hair last week," he says, breathless. The words are panted over your ear, and it's then you fully realize how closely he's wrapped himself around you. You go to say something about how you saw his black hair just the other day, but he continues. "I'm four years sober next month."

The numbers are not crunching. "That doesn't--"

"And my license," he says, finally pulling back just enough so that you can see his face. "I got that in 2018."

You frown. "It's 2016."

Seungcheol breathes out your name, but all you hear is warning bells. You can tell by the pitying look on his face -- as much as it's mixed with relief. You're not going to like what he says next.

"It's 2023," he tells you, saying your name again like it's precious. He holds you tighter. "You've been missing for seven years."

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peace-for-levi · 1 year

Text

golden hour

{sometimes i get ideas for drabbles that aren't long enough to be chapters, or oneshots. this was going to be a side chapter/drabble of morgen, but i didn't like where it was headed so i rewrote it. pls accept my garbage, i wrote this in ~45 mins}

cw: i have projected!!!!!! my abandonment issues onto levi lmao. anxiety, trauma, very slight possessiveness (but not to the point it's unhealthy) references to smut from the night prior. so mdni! finale pt. 1/manga spoilers!!!

w/c: 1201

taglist: @levmada @poisonpeche @jayteacups @happybird16 @theferricfox @sckerman @whattheheckmidoriya @notgoodforlife @anlian-aishang @unadulteratedtreecrusade @nelapanela94 (i honestly forget who's in my taglist??)

Levi Ackerman doesn't know peace. He is a man most acquainted with strife and sacrifice.

The void left in his heart after the Rumbling is gaping and steep. It pulls him into the dark, with little hope of anything good ever happening. Maybe he doesn't deserve it; maybe he isn't meant to have nice things. That's what the cynical side of him says. But then again, cynicism was all he ever had. Negativity, doubt... As a soldier, he always had to err on the side of caution.

So the idea of you laying in his arms, flush to his bare chest, is something so foreign to him. Levi can hardly believe his eyes.

Sunlight filters through the windows, casting rays and lighting up the room. Shining on you, he finally takes you -- and all your wonder -- in and he breathes easy.

He pulls you closer. Where is the next threat? When, even?

This is too good to be true.

You stir in his embrace and he relaxes, allowing you to fidget and stretch as needed. Your dewy and damp hair from last night clings to your forehead. Dirt doesn't repulse him too much anymore, he thinks. Well, not if it's you. He flicks the stray hairs dangling in your eyes away, and blows the rest away gently. Now he sees you.

He gasps when you smile in your hazy state, snuggling closer.

"Mornin'," you sigh.

"Mm." He doesn't mean for it to come across as a grunt. "Good morning. Sleep well?"

The gravelly baritone of his morning voice sends shivers down your spine. "Ohhhhh yeah."

It would be hard not to sleep well after last night, but he will stay on alert. He had his night of fun. Now it's time to get back to business. But what business does he have left? The teashop? It's closed today. Maybe cleaning the kitchen. Oh wait, you did a spring clean of it last night.

He sighs, heavily. It's hard to go from always having a task to do, to nothing at all. He can't lose his edge, it's too soon. It's barely been a few years. If he loses his edge, what happens then? What if you slip through his fingers? What if you realize that your time could be spent elsewhere, fulfilling whatever dreams you may have?

Not that he'd stop you, it's just…

I just don't have anyone else, he thinks, selfishly.

He must stay alert and aware all the time. He gave into desire last night when he could have been doing something more productive. If you continued to see how good he was, you'd continue to need him, hopefully. He needed you to rely on him, to need him, so that way, you'd always come back to him and you'd be in his life.

"You're shaking."

He's snapped out of his toxic train of thoughts. "Hmm?"

"When you tense your muscles, though it's faint, you shake, and…" you lean in closer, ear to his chest, "well, I feel it a lot more since I'm right next to you."

He sweeps his hand to cradle your head, wanting to keep you there.

"Sorry, guess I'm just…"

You peek up at him. "Just what?"

"Tch… Just forget it."

You blink owlishly. Sheesh, you only wanted to open a line of communication with him. But even after all those years, even when (an unsteady) peace between Eldia and Marley was established, he keeps his walls up. He doesn't know that it's okay to start taking down those bricks, however slow or long it may take him to.

The birds are chirping a song outside, perched on the sill. You smile softly, listening. "Do you hear them?"

"Yeah."

You try to wiggle out of his arms. "Relax, and listen to them. They're trying to talk to us, maybe." You search for his eyes.

"Yeah, they say you need a shower."

Despite his joke, his pupils are trained on the door into the hall of your shared apartment. The poor man, is all you think; a tortured soul who's not used to reprieve and doesn't know how to accept the rest he deserves. Always on the lookout.

You shimmy out entirely of his grasp and sit up. Though faint, you don't miss the bit of resistance he put up. You purse your lips in thought. Coax him out of it. That's always been your go-to method of trying to get him to open up.

A small nudge in the right direction.

"Last night was fun."

He had started to hum with the birds up until then. He peers back and he turns fully to face you. "Good, I'm glad. I feel the same."

"So feel it," you insist. "I think you don't allow yourself to enjoy the nice things in life."

He scoffs, in denial. "I'd hardly consider this a pleasant "morning after" experience."

"Not when you keep yourself so guarded and cagey, no."

Whatever scoff or smirk he tried to force fell flat. He averts his gaze, sensing a lecture. But when you move to ruffle his slowly thinning hair, his milky and grey eyes find yours. You smile sadly at the grey hairs you spot.

"I'm fine, I'm okay, Levi. You don't need to worry about me, ever. So rest. It's just us, now."

He scoffs, again, and turns his back to you. You flop down and trace the pads of your fingers over his muscles. You trace every scar and blemish; every cut and piece of skin so torn, it can hardly repair itself back to "normal."

He's always been the most human of the lot, and the most scarred (in more ways than one.) He carries the scars with him. The anguished fallen, the courageous subordinates he never got to apologize to. He carries them with him. Like how he carries his former squad, Erwin and Hange.

"Put down your swords now, Levi, the war is over. Take off the armour, too, that shit gets heavy."

He swallows thickly. "What about you? What if you're ever in danger? With my body like this, I ca–"

"Leave the sword at your feet, then. Pick it up when you need to," you soothe. You lean down to kiss him. When his shoulders creak, you giggle. "See, you're getting old! We should resting now."

I just can't be alone. Not after everything that's happened, he thinks.

"'We'," he parrots. "What about when you get bored living with a cripple?"

What will I do when you leave me?

"Well, no one else can make Sunday morning pancakes like you!"

He smiles for the first time now, his lips curling with bliss. He has to internally fight the urge to tense. "Don't make it out that pancakes are an achievement… Then again, I have never seen someone so god-awful at flipping."

He rolls onto his back now. You lower a hand to his scarred, pallid cheek. You smooth a thumb under his milky eye. As gently as you can manage, you sink back into his arms.

"So as long as you'll have me, I won't be leaving any time soon."

You don't miss the thick swallow and the trembling lips.

"I'm staying right here, 'Vi."

¯\_(ツ)_/¯ rbs and comments always appreciated!! ♡

#levi ackerman #levi x reader #husbando tag<3 #levi ackerman x reader #snk levi #aot levi #captain levi #levi ackerman fluff #levi ackerman angst #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #lol might delete this what did i just cough up

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wannaeatramyeon · 1 year

Text

James Lee/DG with Unhinged F!Reader

He never stood a chance (Gun Park | Goo Kim | Samuel Seo | James Lee/DG)

Out of all your fights, all your opponents. This one definitely left a bitter taste in your mouth. You couldn't even hide the look of disgust on your face.

James Lee, DG, The Legend? Whatever. You held back a yawn as you countered his fist, bending it back painfully until you heard the telltale snap and crack of bone.

That hype? That reputation? The supposed feats with the first generation kings? What a waste.

He barely had time to react as you stomp your foot down on his, your sharpened stiletto piercing through skin and tendon. To think you put these on specially for him.

You rarely get angry during fights, your emotions tending to err on the side of deranged and demented. But this pink haired fool. You suppose you might as well have fun.

DG thought he had eyes and ears on all the notable people in Seoul, even maybe all of South Korea. So when you (dressed to impress, dressed to kill) approached him with a frenzied grin and laser-focused eyes, he thought you were just another fan.

You had peered down at a rough scrap of paper, trying to make out your own sloppy handwriting, now half covered in grime and dried blood.

"Jim, no hold on. James Lee?" you had asked. The man in white didn't answer you, but you noticed the way his body tensed. That was all the acknowledgement you needed before you made the first move.

DG sits with his back against the wall, his breathing laboured and stilted. He was certain he was unable to move - you having broken his wrist, arms, then ankles.

The initial anger on your face certainly alarmed him, but when it eventually melted into a teasing look, his hairs stood on end.

Despite his history, he had never been in the presence of such violence and intimidation before. Years since he had even felt an ounce of threat.

"Tsk," you lean down and roughly grab the back of his head, forcing him to look at you, but his eyes are bleary and focused. "What an anticlimax."

You never thought a man of his reputation could be so delicate. The blood and dirt, swollen cuts and broken bones, all mar his previously pristine appearance. You let out a giggle as you consider leaving some scars on his pretty face, that would be a fun one for this idol to explain.

But your eyes flicker over him. He really is too pathetic to be worth anymore of your malice.

Instead, you place a kiss upon his forehead, relishing in the way his body trembles beneath yours.

You see the red lipstain stain adorning his bruised and battered body and smile.

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emeritus-fuckers · 3 months

Note

How about a darling with a sensory processing disorder?

Example, someone tells you something and it doesn't click right away, or sometimes you can't read words or numbers as easily some days.

Papas and a darling with a sensory processing disorder

Primo

He is very understanding anyway, like you don't even have to really tell him, he just seems to know how to help.

Still one day you decide to tell him, he sits you down with a cup of tea and just nods as you explain.

"Thank you for telling me amore. Let me know if there is anything more I can do to help, it's just part of who you are." He leans in and gives you a gentle loving kiss.

"It doesn't change how I see you, I love you." Still it helps him to know, he had an idea but he's glad you feel safe enough to tell him.

You catch him a few weeks later surrounded by different types of tea, some he's even grown himself. You've never seen the kitchen such a mess and Primo looking so focused. "Ah cara" he says with a large smile. "Come here amore" he waves you over then passes you a mug of tea.

Ancient books from the library are scattered around him. "It's taken a me a long time to get the brew just right but this might just help you when you are having a bad day." You taste it and somehow it does, it really helps.

Secondo

"You can tell me..." he says one day, sensing something.

He really doesn't mind explaining things as many times as you need but he just knows there is more to it. He is very aware that he might be able to do something more to help and support you. He's really just frustrated at himself for not being able to work out what.

"Amore, tell me, then I can do more for you." He takes your hands and kisses them before sitting you on the sofa.

And so you explain it all to him and he asks for ways to help. He is really supportive and especially so when you are having a bad day. He buys you whatever he can to help, maybe a color filter for a screen if that helps you read the words better. Whatever it is you need, he gets it. If you've been having a bad day he'll offer to distract you, he'll take you anywhere you want to go. He'll pay for and arrange everything.

Terzo

They became aware something was up when you were frowning extra hard at your computer screen.

You seemed to be struggling with reading the email you were on more than usual, so he pulled you aside to ask if something was wrong.

“Amore…what do you need to help with this? Whatever it is you’ll get.”

They certainly got you everything you needed and…well more.

If you need a program to read out the text on screen? He paid extra to get one that would speak with their voice.

He watches your face like a hawk, noticing the second something isn’t clicking. Asking if you need it re-explained in different words.

Overall they’re super supportive! They love you very much and want to ensure you’re comfortable as well as getting the support you need.

Plus it means you can hear his lovely voice whenever you want…especially when they send flirty emails.

Copia

When you tell him he is very concerned to make sure he is doing the right things to help you.

He is also worried about making it worse. He is really supportive and handles it all really well, so you often have to remind him of this.

His rats seem to know immediatly when you are having a bad day. They will all curl up around you and some snuggle up in your lap. Copia brings you a hot chocolate and kisses your forhead.

He never minds having to repeat himself or explain differently for you. Again he will do whatever he can to make things easier for you.

"It makes you unique sì? I would never have thought of things that way but you, you see and think differently and that is a real strenght." He smiles then looks nervous "I hope you understand me amore? I err just want you to know that in our church we celebrate individuals and difference."

He knows that sometimes it's really hard for you and he is always there for you on those days. Running you a bath or giving you a long relaxing massage.

Old Nihil

You always end up having to say things to him many times over. Especially if he has forgotten to turn his hearing aids on.

So Nihil is very happy to return the favour.

Most of the time he just stares at you lovingly, delighting in every word you speak to him. I think he asks you to repeat sometimes just so he can hear you speak more. He just wants to make the most of the time he has with you. So he will spend all day repeating things to you or explaining it or whatever you need.

He doesn'y really understand what it means for you to have a sensory processing disorder, but after you explain it a few more times he is very eager to help in anyway he can.

If things get to much for you, he'll take you to a quiet place and just hold and kiss you. He's a very calming prescence and he'll sit and listen if you need to vent.

He is incredibly understanding and loving, he just needs clear instructions on how to help.

Young Nihil

Looks at you confused when you ask him to repeat what he just said.

"Babe it's normally me that's zoning out and not listening... is it cause you are thinking of lyrics or something? No, wait I know! You are so struck by my good looks that you can't think straight." He grins meaning nothing by it but you end up glaring at him and lightly placing a finger on his lips.

You get him to sit down and just listen as you struggle to explain, sighing deeply once you're done.

"Oh... shit, babe... sorry I should've just... I never knew. I think I've got a similar thing, actually, though that might just be the weed..."

He rambled on a bit before snapping out of it and shaking his head and then just awkwardly asking you how to help. Once you explain, he's very careful and makes a real effort to do what you said will help. He's already pretty chilled out most of the time anyway so it's never really an issue. He does pay more attention more, though.

If he notices you struggling to read something he'll offer to read it out loud for you, pulling you into his lap and reading it as many times as you might need. And then he kisses you and grins.

"I love you so much." He announces, just waiting for you to ask why. And once you do, that goofy grin of his gets even bigger.

"Because you're amazing. I love you."

He kisses you again as he chucks the book to the side, both of you giving each other your undivided attention.

Papas I, II, IV and Papa Nihil written by Nyx.

Papa II and Young Papa Nihil edited by Nosferatu.

Papa III written by Death.

Taglist: @charlie-is-a-menace @copias-fluffy-asscheeks @randodummy @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @calliedion-dungeon @randominstake @callmeicaro @thecuriouss @nuntia @dio-niisio @mamacarlyle @firefirevampire @mybotanicaldemise @emo-mess @natoncesaid @sirlsplayland @thatoddboy @ouijaboardemo @lightbluuestars @strawberriiblossoms @z-xmyers @dark-angel-is-back @strawberriiblossoms @choco-meow69

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brainlessrot · 2 years

Note

Hi! I just read the “if I jump at them they’ll catch me” series and I loved it! I was wondering if you could do something in similar format with Octavinelle where the reader grabs them by the tie, kisses their cheek and attempts to run away while saying “catch me if you can”? If not that’s totally fine-

thank you for requesting <33 it was fun to write!

Octavinelle — Grabbing them by their tie

Contents ;; GN!MC, can be seen as either platonic or romantic!

Characters ;; Azul, Jade, Floyd

Prompt ;; MC grabs them by their tie and kisses them on their cheek, then (attempts) runs away

Azul ;;

He’s working on some paperwork for the monstro lounge, you sat on the couch of the VIP room, resting after working a long shift at the Lounge. He was sitting behind his desk, and his posture had worsened the more you had looked at him. He had started with his back straight, perpendicular to the office chair he was sitting on, but now he resembled more a shrimp than an octopus, you were sure he would be sore if he stayed like that for long. His glasses were also slipping off every once in a while, and he had to push them up every time, he even had his tie skewed, he truly didn’t look like the fine businessman persona he liked to act as.

You could not resist the urge to distract him, he just looked so focused on his work! And you knew the perfect way to do it.

You stood up, walking from the VIP room’s couch and around his desk to stand to his left. He only humed, his eyes not leaving the papers that he was looking at. You were not going to have this.

Your hand grabbed his shoulder, making him look at you. The moment he pushed his glasses up to look at you better, your hand grabbed his tie, pulling at it. You bent forward, a tiny smile on your face. You left a loud kiss on his cheek, the moment your lips came in contact with his skin you could feel him burn underneath.

You had a fulfilled smile on your face as you backed away, you could only describe the expression he had on his face as short circuited, since he didn’t even respond to you waving your hand in front of his face, the only “response” you got was a bunch of incoherent mutters and babbles that left his half-opened lips.

Well, he did deserve a rest, even if in the process his brain died.

Jade ;;

Why are you doing this to yourself? Are you a masochist or something?

You were calmly helping people around, doing your work as errand runner— err, Prefect of Ramshackle as every day, when you saw Jade. You still wondered how you befriended him, since even the way he “kindly” smiled at the poor first year he was probably blackmailing sent shivers down everybody’s spine, and you were not an exception. But that’s what compelled you to get close to him. You wanted to see what the seemingly composed eel would do if you pushed the wrong— or right— buttons. You liked to annoy him, it was a dangerous sport, but that was what made it interesting.

So then, after working as a personal therapist, the second part of your daily routine began— annoy the shit outta Jade.

You began with simple stuff, things you did every once in a while. But then, the thing you’d been planning for weeks now was put to action.

You had observed how he never seemed to touch anybody— not even on accident. So, what would happen if you were the one to touch him?

Jade was listening to you ramble, he would be lying if he said he didn’t think of you as an interesting human, but he had noticed the way you always tried to make him lose his marbles, he sometimes indulged you, letting you do whatever you wanted, but he never gave you the reaction you were searching for, and he found the way you never gave up adorable.

However, he was not expecting you to step closer to him, not many people had the guts to do so. And when you lifted your hands up to his collar, fixing his tie, he had to resist the urge to chuckle. But you didn’t stop there, you pulled him in, a hand on his tie and the other on his shoulder, and quickly left a chaste kiss on his cheek, a small smirk on your face.

He took a second to mask the surprise on his face with an amused look, and you took that opportunity to turn around and stick your tongue out to him, telling him that he’d never catch you even if he tried.

He took that as a dare. And you better keep in mind that he never loses.

Floyd ;;

Floyd followed you through the campus, and everytime you were not moving he was inside your personal space. Well, even when you were moving he walked extremely close to you, if you were not careful you feel as if he would put his foot in front of you to make you slip and fall.

“Shrimpyyy.” His arms dangled around your shoulders, his chin resting on top of your head. His body draped over yours as if he was a warm blanket, but he was, indeed, not one. You caved in, asking him what he wanted. “I want attention! To play! ANYTHING.”

You groaned, you did not have that much free time, and you couldn’t afford to lose an hour, probably putting your life at risk with Floyd, so you only had one option; running away.

A light bulb seemed to appear on top of your head when an idea popped into your mind, this could make Floyd have fun and you could get away from him!

But oh, how wrong you were, how would that work as intended?

You shoved his arms off of yourself, ignoring the pout he had. You turned around to look at him, the frown was quickly replaced seeing as you were giving him attention.

You closed the distance even more, the tips of your shoes touching. Your hand held onto his blazer, since he always wore his uniform a mess, and pulled him in your direction. He chuckled, interested in what you were trying to do, he let you move him at your wish, his eyes following your every movement. As your lips left a quick peck on his cheek he made a sound similar to a squeek, his hands making a move at grabbing you. However, you sidestepped quickly, evading him. Your tongue poked out of your mouth as you riled him up, your feet hitting the tiles as you made a run for it.

The moment you had the opportunity, you entered an empty classroom, and when you heard his footsteps blend out of hearing distance, you slightly cracked the door open. Suddenly, a hand pushed it open with enough force to make it bounce against the wall, your eyes met with Floyd’s

“I caught you little shrimpy!” He cooed, stepping towards you. It’s safe to say that you didn’t make it to any of your appointments.

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pretty-toru · 1 year

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some geto relationship headcanons

☁ Boyfriend Suguru, who loves you a little more when you don't hide your imperfections. Your messy up-do and the dab of dried toothpaste you'd accidentally got on your (his) shirt after brushing your teeth and comes into view when you pour yourself a cup of coffee/tea and kiss him good morning as he's going about his usual routine. You don't notice the blemish until much later and it's adorable seeing you fuss over nothing.

☁ Boyfriend Suguru, who doesn't question (he teases you instead) your preference for cold lattes or frozen desserts when the weather outside suggests for something warming from within. You're a shivering mess midway through finishing your sweet treat and his natural instincts drape his jacket over your shoulders, the fleeting warmth from his body heat seeping into your own and you can't help the smile that spreads across your face.

☁ Boyfriend Suguru, who reserves an afternoon/evening for something you've mentioned you always wanted to do but never made plans for whatever reason (maybe it’s just your impulse thoughts again), such as pottery basics, wine and paint night, or candy making. He encourages you to experience it first-hand to see if you'd want to take it up as a hobby or just to have a good time, and even if you don't enjoy it as much as you thought you would then at least you tried it.

☁ Boyfriend Suguru, who appreciates the time and effort you put into making him his favorite dinner because you wanted to do something special for him, but it hadn't turned out the way you envisioned it and you overcooked and over-salted everything. "Err, looks like I missed a couple of steps? I'm sorry, I just wanted to do something nice for you." He's so gentle in comforting you and lucky that you still have some spare ingredients and takes the opportunity to walk you through the recipe for next time.

(Your attempts will be his lunch tomorrow since he doesn't want to waste it and he also wants you to have a good meal).

#he can be sweet when he’s not evil #suguru geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #suguru geto x you #geto suguru x you #geto suguru #suguru geto #jujutsu kaisen suguru #jjk suguru geto #jjk imagines #jjk x reader

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brittle-doughie · 1 year

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What If: In Your Name

About time I tried one of these Baker or Creator type of deals

You were bringing new cookies to your kingdom by the day. Just bring them into the world and then…allow them to do whatever they wished. You had no wishes to eat them, it was just a hobby to create whatever cookies you can and let them spend their days peacefully in your kingdom.

Who’d knew that by doing that, you’d have essentially a religion being made out of bakers like you. Every visit to this place belonging to the group, the St. Pastry Order, has had these cookies waiting for you. Being a human, you towered over the little cookies, requiring an elevated spot around your waist area to be created.

Every visit was went as usual, you’d emerge before them, then one of these cookies would approach you…

before crumbling a part of their bodies to offer to you, wishing that they’re delectable enough to have the whole piece be eaten entirely.

The Order member would watch you in anticipation as you brought the piece to your mouth and would shiver as you bit into it. Witches did they wish they could offer more to you…

Reverend Mother Cookie would be quick to remind the other members that having their pieces be accepted and eaten was an honor of the highest regard, an honor you never should take for granted.

These offerings were their biggest way of showing their appreciation for you and want to appease you in any way possible. The slightest refusal or hesitation will greatly offend the Reverend Mother and other members of the Order, but fortunately they never had a cookie hesitate at the opportunity

In fact, everyone seemed almost eager to be the cookie chosen to feed you, to nourish you with themselves. If they didn’t learn the means of self-control, they’d likely be shoving the offering to your hand and plead for you to eat it.

Err…you didn’t want to be rude and reject the offerings, so you reluctantly ate the pieces of the cookie given to you as you could see the offerer’s face brighten up at the notion you enjoyed their flavor.

What you say goes. What you say and your opinions matter more above all else. Objections were, of course, met with scrutiny.

Slander and the questioning of your righteousness was met with immediate hostility from Reverend and the Order members. They could send certain cookies to help straighten out the nonbelievers. If it wasn’t the Reverend Mother, then Shadow Sister Cookie was carrying out your will.

Reverend Mother Cookie was the only cookie among the rest that had the means to guarantee that you’ll visit the cathedral and she would invite you to return back once the offerings were over.

She wanted to personally display her levels of devotion by cracking off whole limbs like an arm to offer to you. For you see, the cookies who are giving offerings are not allowed to offer more then the Reverend Mother does. Nobody will ever surpass the devotion she has for you. Her Beloved Baker

#cookie run x reader #cookie run x you #cr x reader #crk x reader #cookie run kingdom x reader #cookie run kingdom #cookie run #cookie npc x reader #reverend mother cookie #st pastry order #tw: cannibalism #cannibalism cw #cookie run scenarios #shadow sister cookie #self aware cookie run #self aware crk

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raayllum · 5 months

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Now, don't get me wrong, by all accounts, Rayla isn't a particularly 'good' assassin. She fails to follow mission orders when she's actually given them (1x01, 1x02) and outright defies them (1x03). A lot of this is because of her own sense of morality and compassion, which is exactly what Runaan criticizes her for and what Ethari worried about.

R: Your heart isn't hard enough to do whatever it takes.

E: I told Runaan you were too good hearted for the work of an assassin, so I know you did not betray them out of malice.

However...

There is still a reason that Runaan thought she would be a good assassin. Part of that is because he's a lot like Claudia, his love for his family obscuring a more objective reality. The other part is that, other than her 'too soft' heart, Rayla has what she needs to be an assassin in terms of the skill set (her blades were at Marcos' throat) and because she doesn't always listen to said 'soft heart'. In fact, she often tries very very hard not to (see a lot of early S1 in particular).

“Of course. For…” she chewed her lip and counted on her fingers. “Hrm, maybe fifteen years now. Anyway, you can call me Redfeather.” [...] Rayla felt her heart turn soft in her chest in just the way she hated. She wanted to know more, had to know more. “What did you do?”

Now, we see that in S4 Rayla is a lot better at well, not listening to that soft squishy part of herself, and that Soren was less good at appealing to her about it than Ezran. Some of this is probably because he pivoted away from the dragon and went after it from an identity standpoint — which, not only does Rayla have a pretty malleable sense of self in her own head, she does not believe that any part of whatever identity is there is particularly good / does not think she's a 'Good' person quote unquote — but this was absolutely doomed to fail post-return. Spending two years alone, trying to singularly hunt down a man and murder him, and knowing all the while that you hurt the people you love the most and have nothing to show for it... Yeah, no one's gonna be in the best head space for that, or be overly inclined to trust their own judgement or capacity to save people.

Like most characters in the show, Rayla struggles with always knowing what the right thing to do is, and what served her well in the past — trusting her gut, taking on things alone, laying herself down in the line of fire, removing her hesitation, and going to save Phyrrah in 2x07 — may not always serve her well in every scenario. She thought she was right to do all the same things when she went after Viren, didn't she? So she errs on the side of inaction, of not wanting to make another mistake by acting with her heart rather her head (again), and inadvertently waltzes into another mistake (Soren being captured and going missing).

Rayla will do the right thing, and hate herself for it, and will stubbornly ignore the signs screaming at her when she isn't doing the right thing (and she'll hate herself for that, too.)

[ Sidenote: bonus post about how Arc 2 increasingly treats more and more character traits and decisions as circumstantial rather than inherently good or bad ]

As she says to Ezran:

R: I let him go. I don't know why. E: Because you felt for him. R: But he was a human — my enemy! E: Yeah, but then you saw he was scared. And you knew he was a person, just like you. R: That shouldn't have mattered. I had a job to do.

I think we can read this in two ways. The first is that to be an assassin, you have to be able to dehumanize others on a fundamental level because you're 1) murdering strangers 2) on someone else's orders. Although Runaan preaches about balance in Bloodmoon Huntress (when you kill someone, you remove their capacity for love and change) we have all of Arc 1 talking about why that mindset is flawed and isn't good enough, especially because it culminates in Harrow's death when he still had plenty of things to love, like his children, and so much he wanted to change, and it would've led to Ezran's death as well. This is one of the reasons why assassination and dark magic, conceptually, often go hand in hand for the characters and their explorations of personhood and the right thing to do, etc etc.

The second way is that Rayla, by ignoring her own wants and personhood — her own heart — is also dehumanizing herself. It shouldn't matter that she's a person with wants and weaknesses; she had a job to do. We see this reflected in a lot of her behaviour ("Don't worry about my hand. The egg is all that matters now" —> "It's agonizing. But I know our mission comes first: the world is in danger, and you can trust me to stay focused") and in Runaan's / Moonshadow elves infamous "I am already dead" thing.

(There is also the factor that, because her and Callum mutually informed the construction of each other's new senses of identity to an absurd degree, if Callum doesn't want her then she doesn't know / doesn't have a firm footing on who she is anymore without him, but that's a codependent post for another day.)

All of this is a very long winded way of saying there, much like Viren and Claudia, are two consistently contradicting aspects to Rayla's personality that she is catapulting between, and the Assassin Rayla and Protector Rayla are, as of S5, still equal parts of her as she finds her way. Both have good and bad qualities of her, even if the Assassin Rayla side is — let's say more negative — and far more worrisome given what Callum has asked her to do if he is possessed again, and how it seems like S6 will be going full steam ahead in exploring that plotline.

In a lot of ways, Assassin Rayla and Protector Rayla have the exact same set of traits — selfless, protective, strong, willing to sever close bonds or divert from the mission to do the Right Thing — but instead describe the circumstances she's making those choices in. Protector Rayla is the one who stands against Runaan on the battlements; Assassin Rayla is the one who refuses to prioritize her parents even when she absolutely could (or at least, more than she is).

Assassin Rayla causes her to forget her own needs and put the world above everything else. Assassin Rayla causes her to ignore other people's needs, either not helping them (although iirc 4x05 is the only real example of it) or by leaving / keeping secrets.

The part of her we don't want her to listen to, the part she listens to when she's Scared — the one that walks away from the drake in 4x05, that tries to walk away in 1x09, and what led to her leaving, in a lot of ways, in TTM (both out of love, trauma, and a desperate need for control) — and how S4 reaffirms those qualities is precisely what may lead her to hurting Callum (again) in S6.

Because Callum is asking her to become an Assassin, Aaravos marks her as a failed one, and Rayla still — deep down — wants to ultimately be a Protector. We'll just have to see what side she answers to (and why).

More thoughts on Rayla, identity, and murder to follow lmao

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redux-iterum · 6 days

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Charred Legacy: Chapter Three

(AO3 counterpart here.)

“Yeesh.”

“Yeah.”

Greystripe shuddered and squinted in the direction of the distant Fourtrees, like he could see the dogs coming already. “One thing after another, huh? You think they’ll show up here?”

“I hope not, but…” Ravenwing shook some soil off his paw. “I don’t trust our luck. Nor do I trust those dogs.”

Fireheart stretched out, the early evening warmth still permeating the ground under him, which he knew to appreciate before he lost it by the time the moon was fully up. Greystripe had been asleep when the Gathering party had returned home last night, and Fireheart had insisted on not waking him up with such grave news as the leaders had given. Ravenwing had complied, but roused his friends early this evening for a “hunting patrol”, which was really an excuse to walk in the woods while they still had that freedom. Whatever Bluestar was thinking about the warning from Rookstar, she hadn’t said, but by the time everyone turned in for sleep, common opinion was near-certain she would restrict wandering about in the forest alone or in a small group. Just for safety, obviously, not that the reason made it any more fun.

“It’s the fact that we don’t have any information at all that bugs me,” Ravenwing continued. “There’s more than one, and that’s it. That’s all we know.”

“That’s at least something, isn’t it?” Fireheart asked, trying to sound hopeful and probably not doing a good job. “We know to watch out for several dogs.”

Ravenwing shook his head. “I mean, sure, but we’ll live with the uncertainty that, if one or more go away for whatever reason, we don’t know if all of them left, or just some. Two could leave, but then another one from the pack shows up when we don’t expect it, and we’re feather-plucked.”

“One thing at a time.” Greystripe lifted a paw and lowered it in a “settle down” gesture. “They’re probably still near WindClan territory. ThunderClan just needs to form a plan while we can.” He paused. “Whatever that plan may be.”

“And maybe humans will catch them first,” Fireheart added. “Anything could happen.”

Ravenwing, sitting up while the others were reclining, kneaded the ground and grimaced at the marks his claws were making, muttering, “We still ought to err on the side of pessimism.”

Neither Greystripe nor Fireheart responded to this. Fireheart instead swiveled his ears this way and that, keen on any small noise he could detect, just in case pessimism was warranted. All he got was a familiar, rushing rumble on the edge of his hearing.

“Hey, you can hear the river from here,” he remarked cheerfully. “It really got filled up from all that rain, didn’t it? Even though it’s been so dry this month, it’s still loud.”

Ravenwing slowly lifted his head and mimicked Fireheart’s ears, pulling himself out of his dour mood. “Huh. You can.”

Fireheart looked over at Greystripe, who had his ears turned as well, but more bittersweetly back than curiously pivoted towards the direction of the distant river. His eyes were half-shut with grieving affection.

“You know…” he said after a moment. “She never found a nickname for me.”

Ravenwing’s tail went stiff. Fireheart sadly sighed under his breath.

“Just a little bit of a bummer.” Greystripe’s head turned round to where the river sang. “It’d be nice to have at least that, you know? Something tangible to remember her by.” He made an attempt at an amused snort that came out more as a limp huff. “I mean, something tangible in this Clan.”

Fireheart didn’t say anything, but his mind soared over the river and went straight into whatever RiverClan had as a nursery, where a litter of grey kits nursed at a belly that wasn’t their mother’s. How much did they look like Greystripe now?

Ravenwing sank onto his belly, looking a bit queasy. He murmured something, seemingly to himself.

“What?” Fireheart tilted his head.

“Nevermind,” Ravenwing said, jerking his head up. “Just. Thinking.”

A memory shouldered its way into the forefront of Fireheart’s mind. In a bid to change the mood, he said to Ravenwing, “Well, at least you never had to learn that lesson the hard way, right?”

The mood changed indeed—Ravenwing flinched and stammered, “Are yo– don’t bring up that whole thing! It’s not the same!”

Greystripe looked back at them, frowning. “What’s not the same?”

Fireheart almost leapt to his feet, instantly eager at this chance of merriment. “Oh, it’s—” He looked at Ravenwing, who was burying his face in his paws. “Can I tell him?”

“Go ahead,” Ravenwing grumbled.

Immediately, Fireheart turned back to Greystripe, tail dancing in delight. “Ravenwing likes Wrenwhisker, and he overheard us talking about it at that one Gathering while we were still fighting, and he winked at Ravenwing and walked off.”

“You—” Greystripe almost coughed out a halting chuff of disbelief. “Excuse me? You—”

“It’s not him specifically!” Ravenwing blurted in protest. Then his voice dropped to a mumble. “It’s all WindClan toms.”

Greystripe’s face was unsure whether to be outraged or highly amused. “And you yelled at me!”

“That’s what I said!” Fireheart near-trilled.

Greystripe shook his head, his eyes bright and amazed. “I cannot believe the hypocrisy.”

“I didn’t go after anyone, Greystripe,” Ravenwing said hotly. “I can appreciate from a distance! Wasn’t I just appreciating, Fireheart?”

Fireheart’s eyes were almost squeezed shut as he beamed at Ravenwing, putting on an airy voice. “You certainly could have done the exact same thing as Greystripe instead, I suppose.”

“Okay—” Greystripe lifted his tail for silence, visibly struggling to decide what thing to dunk on Ravenwing for first. “For one—for one—you have the audacity to fancy an entire Clan of toms and then get mad at me for picking one molly across the river. For two…” He tilted his head and squinted at Ravenwing, snorting. “WindClan? Are you serious? Have you seen those cats?”

“Yes!” Ravenwing glared at him with no severity. “Have you?”

“Look, I could get, like, RiverClan—”

“Yeah, you could,” Ravenwing muttered.

“Shut up,” said Greystripe. “I could get RiverClan, but WindClan is literally the least attractive set of cats in the territories. Their faces are weird—”

“They have handsome faces!”

“With those dog-eyes and long noses?!”

“Yes!”

“How in—” Greystripe shook his head again. “You are out of your mind.”

“They’ve got a unique beauty to them!” Ravenwing looked to Fireheart now. “Come on. Aren’t they handsome?”

Fireheart rolled a shoulder. “Well, I think everyone’s got their own flavor of beauty, no matter where they come from.”

“Why are you asking him?” Greystripe said to Ravenwing with a chortle. “You know he’s never looked twice at any cat at all, much less appraised their appearance.”

“He can still have standards,” Ravenwing sniffed.

“My standards are that everyone’s got something,” Fireheart said when the bigger toms looked at him. “I mean, we all look good to someone, right? Isn’t that how it goes?”

“I will catch you every single mole in this forest if you can point out a cat that thinks Yellowfang looks good,” Greystripe said.

“Or Darkstripe,” Ravenwing added sourly.

“Darkstripe’s ugly is from the inside, it just came out in his face.” Greystripe squinted in amusement. “Honestly, I don’t know how anyone born from Patchpelt could have that hideous of a personality.”

Fireheart blinked. “Wait, he’s Patchpelt’s son?” He looked at Ravenwing. “Your grandpa? Then he’s…”

“My uncle,” Ravenwing finished. He scowled. “I try not to think about it.”

“Wow.” Fireheart nearly cuffed his own ear in admonishment. “How did I never find this out? I’ve been here for, like, over a year now, and I never knew!”

Greystripe leaned a little his way, speaking in a conspiratorial voice that was poorly hiding its humor. “Well, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Darkstripe is kind of a slitprick.”

“Greystripe!” Fireheart mimed cuffing his friend’s too-far-away ear instead. “That’s not nice!”

All he got was a chuff in response. “Neither is Darkstripe. Would you want to acknowledge that you’re related to him?”

“Not in thlain* years,” Ravenwing said, still scowling. “And if he doesn’t want to acknowledge us, that’s fine by me. I have pampam** and that’s all I need.”

“Well…” Fireheart mulled over this for a moment. “It’s still sad for family not to feel like family.”

“Not with that piece of—” Ravenwing started, and abruptly jerked his head back and scrubbed at his muzzle like there was dirt on it. “Nevermind.”

Greystripe leaned forward with an expression similar to Yellowfang’s frog-like grin. “No, no, go on. What is he a piece of?”

“Forget it.” Ravenwing tucked his paws under his body. “Fireheart’s here.”

“Are you afraid to sully his innocent ears?”

“No, but he’ll scold me.” The black tom narrowed his eyes. “I’ve got a worse name for him than you do.”

Fireheart regarded Ravenwing with amazement. “You are just full of surprises today. Are you going to tell me you secretly have crow-wings next?”

Ravenwing swiped dust at Fireheart with his long tail. Fireheart sneezed a chuff, and the trio fell into a comfortable silence as the moon’s rising slowly reclaimed the warmth of the ground.

---

They couldn’t stay out forever; eventually the cold ground got to them and they rose, returning home with a couple mice they had caught along the way. Whitecloud was leaving Bluestar’s den when they reached the entrance of camp and greeted them with a nod.

“It isn’t much,” Ravenwing said, his mouse dangling from his mouth by its tail, forcing him to talk through clenched teeth. “We just went out for a walk.”

“That’s perfectly fine,” Whitecloud said with a slow blink. “We’ll be alright for a night. Perhaps bring that to Brindleface, she was hungry earlier.”

Something in his usually-warm yellow eyes seemed to be… missing. Fireheart, not carrying any prey, paused in his walking just before reaching the tunnel. Greystripe looked back at him questioningly and Fireheart silently nodded for him to keep going. Obediently, the hulking grey tom turned forward again and followed Ravenwing.

Whitecloud was watching Greystripe and his former apprentice disappear. It took a long moment for him to realize Fireheart was watching him. He turned and looked down at him, eyes falsely creased. “How can I help you?”

Fireheart tilted his head, concerned. “Are you okay?”

The tall tom, just for an instant, seemed to shrink at the question, before recovering quickly and purring. “I’m fine, Fireheart. You don’t need to worry about me.”

Liar, Fireheart thought, but he played it carefully; he glanced at the lichen in front of the leader’s den, just past Whitecloud, and then back to him. He lowered his voice. “Is Bluestar okay, then?”

To his relief, Whitecloud didn’t brush this off. He, too, looked back at Bluestar’s den, sighed and lowered his angular head to speak quietly to Fireheart.

“Physically, yes, she’s okay,” he murmured. He paused. “Mentally… mentally, I’m not so sure.”

Something in Fireheart’s mind iced over, but he stayed calm. “Everything that happened really did get to her, didn’t it?”

“It did.” Whitecloud sighed. “But I worry that it affected her in a different way. Has she… has she sounded alright, to you? No slurred words or strange things she’s said?”

Fireheart blinked, confused. “She’s been fine. Maybe a little terse, but that’s about it. Why would she…?”

He trailed off at the sight of something invisible lifting itself off of Whitecloud’s back, settling his spine into a slouch. “Good. Good. It’s just that…” He drew in a breath and held it for a long moment before exhaling his next sentence. “I don’t know if she ever told you about Gooseleaf. Her uncle.”

Fireheart shook his head.

“He was unwell,” Whitecloud said quietly. “Hallucinated, had mood-swings. He was lucky enough to make it to the seer position, where StarClan could take care of him and speak to him in a way he’d understand. But he was paranoid and easily frightened, and he saw things that StarClan certainly didn’t send to him. I don’t remember much of him beyond being told not to say anything that could set him off.”

Fireheart felt his face fall. “That’s sad. Poor tom.”

Whitecloud shut his eyes. “Indeed. But he wasn’t the only one in our family that had struggles only found in their head. Bluestar’s grandmother, I was told, lived a long time, and when her mate died, she slowly became confused and distressed, asking where cats were that had died before she was an apprentice. She was made an elder early to keep her safe, because she wandered into the forest alone and approached a badger cub thinking it was one of her kits. The real mother nearly killed her.”

Fireheart nodded for him to continue, the ice reaching his stomach.

“I just…” Whitecloud looked back to the leader’s den, his eyes foggy. “I see Bluestar now: hiding, tired, scared. I worry that… everything… is going to affect her mentally. Make things worse for her. She’s hardly even telling me anything, and I’m the only family she has left. She’s never kept secrets from me.”

Ice in his toes now. Fireheart tried to clench his teeth, but his thoughts escaped him anyway. “If we were allowed to talk about ‘everything’, I think it would help her get some of that out. It could make her feel better. Make all of us feel better.”

As he could have predicted, Whitecloud started, “We can’t run the risk of bringing his soul back—”

“Horoa’s hunters must have caught him by now,” Fireheart said, surprised at the sternness in his own voice. “And just pretending that nothing happened, while it doesn’t leave our heads—he’s haunting our hearts anyway. Talking about it could help us move on.”

Whitecloud looked a little surprised, too. He recovered and gazed down at Fireheart with a mixture of affection and sadness. “…Maybe so.”

Fireheart caught himself with a breath, and with that his calmness returned. “I mean, I could at least try to talk to Bluestar myself. I am her apprentice. If she won’t tell you, maybe she’ll tell me.”

“And you are very good at getting people to talk,” Whitecloud purred. He nodded and turned for the tunnel. “Very well, then. I trust that you can be easy on her. Whenever you feel like it, try.” He stopped and looked back, his eyes serious. “But if you see her acting oddly at all, tell me immediately. It’s much more important than I can emphasize.”

Fireheart dipped his head in respect and agreement, and the senior warrior retreated into camp. Fireheart did not follow him immediately. Instead, he regarded Bluestar’s den, his stomach twisting into knots that were still quite cold.

She’ll be okay, he thought. She has to be. We need her.

*”Thlain”: A thousand, a million, infinity, or some other humongous, uncountable number.

**”Pampam”: Affectionate form of “pamarpam”, meaning “grandfather”. Similar to saying “gramps”.

#warrior cats #redux iterum #iterum #chapter #chapter three #book three #arc one #charred legacy

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