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#then i thought of adding it into the second version i made last year
starrattlerofprydain · 7 months
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I am once again thinking of data greeting ideas that no one is asking for
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koolades-world · 1 year
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More Obey me! Headcannons
had so much fun last time I wanted to do it again
Satan is so smart, but has issues doing basic math and refuses to admit it, like he can’t figure out fifteen plus seven without his fingers or a calculator (is this me projecting? maybe)
Belphie bought himself and Mc matching house slippers. Mc thought Beel felt left out and made Belphie buy a pair for him too
Beel has a huge green thumb, and takes upon himself to save plants he thinks are sad or lonely. He buys the dying plants from the store to bring back to life (partially inspired by the chat where someone, forgot who, told beel that if he talked to plants they would grow faster my precious baby)
Lucifer is the best cook at the HoL, but rarely has time to cook. Beel is the second best but usually eats the ingredients before he can make anything with them. Mammon is probably the worst because Levi can make food from animes almost perfectly
Asmo once almost set a store he was collaborating with on fire with his rage alone because they spelt his name wrong
Beel probably needs a new toothbrush every couple weeks. Belphie probably gets toothbrushes mixed up and uses ones that aren’t his
Lucifer and Solomon like prune juice haha old men
The one thing Luke and Simeon have seriously disagreed on is if raisins belong in dessert. Michael likes them, so Luke does too. Simeon thinks they’re awful but never directly says it, so Lucifer usually says it for him
Despite always being online, Levi had not once checked his RAD email. He has 9,999+ emails, probably a lot more because 9,999 is where it stops counting
Mammon collects cool rocks and keeps them in a box under his bed
Satan’s hands are always freezing, so he sticks them under Mc (or a cat) when possible, or uses a charmed hot water bottle from Solomon that stays warm for days at a time
Solomon and Asmo have had matching bracelet sets for as long as they’ve known each other, and since they didn’t make them anymore, they got some custom done for Mc so they could also have them
For about 1,000 years, Thirteen though jelly beans were an actual kind of bean and Solomon never let her let it go
The first food Mc and Mammon ate on a date in the human world together was Taiyaki, so he made it a point to learn how to make them to surprise Mc (even though he’s a terrible cook) (I might make this a fic since I like this idea so much)
Diavolo has always wanted a Devildom version of a hamster but Barbatos refused to have any kind of rodent in the castle, rat or not
Luke probably downloads those stupid app games with the ads unironically
Satan’s favorite Disney Princess is Ariel because she ran off to do what she wanted without caring what her father thought, it’s giving daddy issues. He’s probably considered running off and marrying Mephisto to make Lucifer angry
Raphael unironically enjoys off brand chips and soda
Lucifer is a nail biter, and Asmo is helping him curve the habit by putting a nasty tasting top coat when he does his nails, and it’s also why he wears gloves all the time.
Belphie and Satan once went up to the humans world together to mess with people in Salem, Massachusetts with magic, which spawned several conspiracy theory books. They read them together and laugh as a past time
Diavolo once went to the human world in his demon form for,, reasons, and accidentally got written into ancient mythology because he got spotted by humans
Barbatos had a home garden for cooking and sometimes lets Asmo have leaves from some of the plants to make homemade skin care products
Mammon probably has lots of earwax. Don’t share your earbuds with him unless you make him clean them afterwards
Belphie has a really large water bottle that’s always on his side table. He wakes up randomly though the night, chugs an ungodly amount of water and then passed out again. In the mornings he has to piss really bad but is too lazy to get up and actually do it, so he just sits and complains. Even Beel isn’t sure how he’s able to drink that much water in a short amount of time
Satan likes waking up early to enjoy the morning air and read outside for a while since mornings can get hectic with his brothers
Thirteen’s favorite torture device is the Iron Maiden. She had her own that she bedazzled. Even Asmo is jealous and wants her to make him one too
Mammon introduced Diavolo to Gatorade, and instead of sneaking behind Lucifer and Barbatos’s backs to drink Demonus, they have secret Gatorade meetings
Diavolo and Lucifer definitely both had a hidden Dialuci stash of things and probably clash trying to collect limited edition things online
None of the Obey me cast took birthdays or passing of years seriously until Mc entered the picture and suddenly time was precious, and they actually kept track. Because of this, nobody is really sure how old the twins are
Mephisto thinks roosters want world domination
Asmo thinks cilantro tastes like soap and Levi thinks anything cola flavored tastes like cough medicine
Mammon's favorite party trick is one Mc taught him, which is rolling his tongue Everyone he meets, including his brothers, thinks it's so cool when really it's just a genetic thing
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obae-me · 8 months
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A Taste Of His Own Medicine- Full Revised Masterpost
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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.
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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.
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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…”
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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.”
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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…”
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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.
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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.”
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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.
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“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?…
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theboombutton · 3 months
Text
Bad Fictional Data vs Fictional Bad Data
WARNING: This post will include discussion of a name that might be Alice Dyer's deadname. I won't be calling Alice by this name or using it in the context of that name being a pointer to Alice, but I will be using the name, uncensored, when talking about where and why the name appeared in chdb.xls .
----
You may know that as part of the ARG, the sleuths on Statement Remains uncovered a document called chdb.xls, allegedly a list that has something to do with The Magnus Institute. There's a list of names, ID numbers, first and last names, dates of birth, and information apparently related to each person's "score" in an assortment of psychological/personality tests. Three of the names in particular have stood out in a lot of analyses: Samama Khalid, Gerard Kaey [sic], and Connor Dyer.
You likely don't know that the commonly linked version of the spreadsheet, ported to Google Docs and linked in the TMAGP ARG Masterdoc, is presented out of order. (I'm guessing they didn't lock down editing until it was already all out of order from various people messing with it - totally understandable, this is not a callout post, thank you for making this easily accessible to people.)
But let me tell you about something I discovered by looking at the spreadsheet in its original order, and the almost certainly incorrect rabbit hole of theorizing it has sent me down.
Bad Fictional Data
Until episode 2 I had the same thought about the Dyer listed in the spreadsheet that I think most people did: that it was Alice's deadname, and that she had therefore been one of the Institute's young subjects. But after Alice had absolutely no reaction when Sam mentioned the Magnus Institute to her in episode 2, I now think this is significantly less likely.
Don't get me wrong: it's still reasonable to think that the Dyer listed in chdb.xls is Alice. Maybe she had some kind of supernatural experience that wiped her memory. (It probably wasn't that Alice was too young to remember, as the Dyer on the spreadsheet is listed as being at Piaget Stage 3, which occurs from 7-11 years old; but it's always possible that the Magnus Institute was using the names of legitimate psychological tests to hide their tracks when recording more esoteric data.) The point is, this isn't hard evidence that Alice has no connection to the Magnus Institute; it just made me go looking for more evidence.
I went back to the spreadsheet to look for more clues about whether or not this was Alice's deadname. What I found instead was some extremely sloppy fake data at the bottom of the spreadsheet.
For context, here are first ten names in the spreadsheet:
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Note how each ID begins with the name's first and last initial.
Now check out the last ten names:
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Not only do these IDs no longer always match their subjects' names, they occur in order: CD, EF, GH, IJ, KL, MN, OP, QR, ST, UV. The first names of each pair match the first letter of each ID, but many, though not all, of the surnames don't match the second letter.
My first thought was that whoever Rusty Quill had contracted to generate these names had gotten sloppy at the end of the list, created the IDs all at once using this alphabetical pattern, and picked names to fill in that roughly matched the IDs. But hey, we could use this to our advantage! Any name that was filled in as part of a series of IDs with an alphabetical pattern like this could be removed from consideration for red string analysis - we'd know they were meaningless fakes added by a lazy contractor, and not clues or characters that might show up again later.
Scrolling back up the spreadsheet, we can see the person generating the data having more care the earlier we go. We find the beginning of the AA/BC/DE/FG/HI pattern at line 136, but at first, the names mostly conform to the initials they've been given. JK09874 "Josie Jordan" at line 154 is the first break from the "first two letters of the ID are their initials" pattern; and breaks occur more often the further you go down the sheet.
Scrolling up to before line 136 (AA09911 - Aaron Atkinson), while the pattern isn't yet at AB/CD/EF/GH levels of obviousness, the first initials are still in alphabetical order. Zoe Hart follows Yara Logan follows Xavier Freeman follows Wyatt Edwards. The data creator skips a few letters - for example Niamh Fenton is followed by Phoebe Emmett, and S and T are together in the same line in Skye Travers.
We can follow this less-obvious version of the alphabetical pattern up to an abrupt break right at line 118, above which the IDs don't follow an alphabetical pattern at all. (They might follow a different pattern, but it's not one that I've found yet.) So that means we can discount all the names in line 118 and below as purely fake, generated lazily by a contractor, and not worthy of our attention for the purposes of red-stringing. Right?
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What the fuck?!
(highlight is my own, it is not present in the original document)
My first thought was that the sloppy data generator had done the funniest thing imaginable, sending everyone on a wild goose chase about Alice's deadname just by having the name "Dyer" on the brain while looking for a surname that started with D. This would be Very Funny. No plot relevance, no implications, just the brain fart that launched a thousand theories.
My second thought was that maybe Connor Dyer was the last legit name on the list, and whoever started filling the rest of the sheet in with alphabetical junk data was inspired by the "CD" initials in the first place - whoever it was went on from there.
These are both valid thoughts! But I prefer my third thought:
What if it's on purpose?
Fictional Bad Data
There is a very obvious break between the set of data that doesn't look obviously* fake, and the set of data that is immediately identifiable as such. If we assume that this was intentional - and I want to reiterate that it all being unintentional is still a very real possibility here - why would someone at Rusty Quill want the data to be structured like this?
If the sharp dividing line between reasonable-seeming data and obviously fake data is intentional on RQ's part, it would suggest that we should take the data above row 118 as in-universe real data, and the data below row 118 as in-universe falsified data. It suggests that someone, either at the Institute or after its demise, was adding nonexistent children to the roster of The Magnus Institute. Why would someone want to do that?
There are all kinds of possible reasons, but here are a few off the top of my and my theorizing buddies' heads:
Financial fraud (institutional edition). If the Magnus Institute received funding on a per-child basis, they'd have an incentive to inflate their numbers.
Financial fraud (researcher edition). One or more people on staff were blowing off their child-analysis sessions and recording fake numbers for fake children. This would be ballsy as hell if they could be fired for it, but it was the Magnus Institute, so there's decent odds they couldn't be.
Scientific fraud (faking conclusions edition). The Magnus Institute in the Protocolverse claimed to be doing research on giftedness in children, which is the kind of thing that you'd normally publish in a scientific journal. It's not unheard-of for dickhead academics to falsify data to generate statistically significant results, since statistically insignificant results aren't going to get you published.
Scientific fraud (obscuring paranormal bullshit edition). If the Magnus Institute was using legitimate psychological test names to record Fear-related test results, it's possible their results showed different patterns from what you would expect from the real tests. They could have added the fake children to balance out the dataset as a whole.
Pseudonyms. The children are all real, the Institute just started using fake names for them for privacy purposes. They couldn't go back and change the names they'd already written properly for some reason. Probably something paranormal.
Those are all pretty interesting possibilities, and if we could narrow them down, it might tell us something about what things were like at the Magnus Institute before it burned down!
And the other big question is: why did RQ make the dividing line between the two sections, the first likely-fake entry, Connor Dyer?
One straightforward reason could be as a troll, a red herring to watch fans get in a lather over. And once the community inevitably noticed all the obviously falsified entries, RQ could eat popcorn and watch us lose our minds over whether or not that's even a real entry! (That sounds really fun, I would absolutely do that.)
But let's dig a little deeper, and look at what Connor Dyer being on the border between the real and fake entries would mean in-universe. Because of its position as the border between real and fake, it would be very easy for that entry to be accidentally included in the wrong group - a real research subject discarded as fake, or perhaps more interestingly, a fake research subject accidentally reclassified as real.
Remember, if a name is fake in the context of the Magnus Institute's research, that doesn't mean that the name itself is made up. If I was trying to think of a name that fit the initials CD, and those were the initials of my next door neighbor's kid, I might just write their name in as a lark. Especially if it was my first time trying to get away with falsifying information: this is a kid that verifiably exists and lives in the area.
My theory, supported primarily by my love for The Implications instead of actual evidence
Twenty years on, after all institutional memory of the fraud was long gone, trans icon Alice Dyer applies to work for the OIAR - an institution that (according to this theory) has an unofficial preference for hiring former Magnus Institute kids.
They are very confused when Alice proceeds to act nothing like a former Magnus Institute kid. It doesn't occur to anyone that her entry might have been falsified. What reason would anyone have to do that?
----
* Of course people with a background in data analysis or statistics will see immediately that even above line 118 this is a wild-ass dataset that would raise red flags for falsification, but at least it's not "the alphabet over and over" levels of obvious.
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sp0-t · 10 months
Text
•.⦿ FORCED CLOSE PROXIMITY ⦿.•
MIGUEL O’HARA X gn!READER
SUMMARY ⦿.•
miguel is your close friend, you’ve been friends even before the death of his daughter. he confided in you for everything, always valuing your opinion above the rest. more recently he had put an unwanted distance between you two, although, thanks to lyla a “malfunction” occurs, forcing you and miguel in a close proximity.. which leads to more
GENRE ⦿.•
smut version
(begins after the second picture)
WARNINGS ⦿.•
smut! penetration! pet names! demanding Miguel! slight biting! unprotected sex! (be better) brief cum play? fingering! making out!
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5 days ago… that’s when it first started, him avoiding you. Your stares, your voice, your scent, your presence… you. The reason was unclear to you, you thought about it over and over wondering what it could possibly be.
You couldn’t even enter his vicinity without him walking out the room. However trying to sneak up on someone in an hq full of spider-people, including Miguel, wasn’t easy. He’d always sense you, leading him to stop whatever he was doing and leave the room. Watching this always made you sad, wondering what you could’ve done to cause this, but also feeling a bit ticked off at the audacity he had to avoid you.
Day 6, you had caught up with some spider-people, specifically Hobie and Miles. You had already known Hobie, do to his longer presence at hq. Still the younger boy, miles, intrigued you. He had come far for his young age and short year being spider-man.
You three were simply talking, just chatting, however it was cut short when an alert from your watch caught your attention. You look down, gazing upon the bright light.
O’Hara: Report, now.
seen 1 min
You knew he was serious with the “now” added at the end. staring at it for a bit too long, racking in your brain why this man would now want to talk to you. after six damn days he finally wants to confront you. At least, that’s what half of you was thinking, the other half was wondering if he would finally come clean and tell you everything that had happened. What caused him to go quiet for so long.
“Everything alright there?”
Hobie looked at you with confusion in in his eyes. Finally peeling your eyes away from your wrist you look at Hobie and Miles.
“Yeah, uh I gotta go. I’ll talk to you guys later.”
You walked off and waved them a goodbye, giving them a smile. You were overthinking the whole walk to Miguel’s “office”. Many things were running through your brain, so many that you hadn’t realized you were already in front of the door. Letting out a breath, you twist the handle and push the door open.
“Finally, I swear you like to waste my time.”
Of course, of course he had an attitude. Of course he didn’t know that you had been worried sick for him over the past 6 days. No, stubborn Miguel always had to act high and mighty on his platform.
“Are you serious?”
The look of confusion that Miguel gave you was almost laughable.
“What, did I say something that gave you the idea I wasn-”
“6. Days. It’s been 6 days before you’ve even given me the time of day. Now here I am, standing in front of you hoping, begging you’re finally going to tell me what’s wrong. But instead I get an insult!”
An exasperated laugh leaves your mouth, it’s almost amusing really. How you thought he would tell you something, anything, about what was keeping him quiet.
“I don’t know what your talking about.”
He crosses his arms over each other and looks to the side with a little scowl on his face. You sling your web, attaching to his platform, tossing your body onto the platform only mere inches from his own.
“You have some nerve you know that O’Hara.”
Jabbing your finger into his chest forcefully
“Last I checked you liked that about me~”
“Yeah well last I checked you weren’t avoiding me.”
“I-“
He stopped himself before he could go on.
“I have to go.”
He started to walk off the platform until his watch went off. It was blaring, so loud you had to cover your ears to try and muffle the sounds.
“What the hell is going on!”
Miguel kept smacking his watch, aggressively pressing random things to try and turn it off. Before any of you knew what was going on, a disk erupted from the watch. The force field erupted, surrounding the both of you.
“Lyla! What’s happening?!”
No reply was ever heard
“Damnit!”
He pounded his first on the force field. Trying to claw his way through it, doing anything to get out.
“You already know that’s not going to work, you’re the one who designed these things to be impenetrable. As much as you hate it, you’re stuck with me.”
He let out a heavy sigh accepting somewhat of a defeat.
“I don’t hate you, I could never.”
He looks up at you with sorrow and regret in his eyes. You could already smell the apology that wanted, so desperately, to roll off his tongue and come out between his lips.
“Then explain to me why.”
“Because… I realized something about me, something I didn’t want to admit to you or myself.”
You move forward with caution, still not sure what boundaries are okay to cross at the moment. Your hand eventually meets his shoulder, rubbing up and down with comfort. Your other hand moves towards his face which was turned to his right. Adjusting his face to look at yours.
“Miguel, I have know you for so long, and no matter what you tell me. You will always have me by your side.”
He grabbed your hand with his, holding it gently. The look in his eyes was a mix of emotions; pain, sadness, regret, longing, but most importantly… love. He moved closer, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into him as if you would simply evaporate from his grasp at any moment.
“I love you…”
Silence. That’s all that could be heard for about 3 minutes, Miguel’s grip tightening as if you were going to push him away any second. Your arms made there way around his body, grabbing at his shirt and your face in his broad shoulder as you processed what he said. You, we’re crying, you didn’t know why or even when it happened you just knew that one moment your cheeks were wet from tears. Then you felt it, the droplet that fell onto the back of your neck, Miguel… was crying.
“Why are you crying?”
You let out a little chuckle, him pulling you even closer as he sniffled.
“I’m not, you are!”
“Yeah, I am. I finally got to hear those words.”
He took his face out of your neck, exposing his tear stained face to you. You placed your hand on his face, gently wiping away his ongoing tears. You stood up a bit to kiss his cheeks then his forehead.
“I haven’t heard you say it.”
Both of you looked deep into each others eyes, bodies still close, and your hands still on his face.
“I love you Miguel O’Hara.”
That’s all it took for his hands to softly grab your face and kiss you, those three words that could so effortlessly make Miguel O’Hara bend to your will.
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(smut below)
His hands were on your waist in mere seconds, showing you just how desperate he was. However you already knew by him pulling you in flush against his front. Your groins getting the sweet friction they so desired. You pulled away slightly muttering a curse.
“Everything okay?”
He looked at you with such worry and concern, a hint of lust that had only started to grow.
“Yeah, just, been wanting that for so long.”
He placed his forehead against yours, creating an intimate atmosphere. His eyes gazed into yours as yours gazed back. Bringing one of his hands up from your hip, he placed it on your cheek. You learned into his touch finding comfort in it, in him.
“We can stop amor, we don’t have to go on.”
“No, I want this. I want you.”
He leaned forward pressing a quick kiss to your lips.
“I want you too.”
And with that you were both on each other. Your arms were wrapped around his neck, as he gently pushed your back against the wall of the force field. Tongues were synchronized with each other, and noses were pushing against one another. You started to pull away, Miguel following your lips still wanting more. You giggled and covered his lips before he could place them back on your own.
“can’t breathe.”
“Good, I should always leave you breathless.”
He placed a kiss on your palm that was covering his mouth
“Only me.”
He slowly dragged his hand to the back zipper of your suit. Teasingly, slowly, pulling it lower and lower. Giving small bites and kisses to each spot that would expose itself to him. Your shoulders, your chest, your stomach, and eventually your legs.
“All mine, you’re mine.”
He whispered between kisses. Miguel was on his knees now, holding onto your sides as he kept leaving kisses. His hand gravitated towards your ass, giving it a slight squeeze. Miguel stood up again standing face to face with you once again.
“I need you.”
“Then take me.”
That set off Miguel, he easily picked you up, wrapping your legs around him. His lips marking your neck, pulling quiet moans from you. Before you could think properly you saw that Miguel’s suit was off. Miguel pulled away from your neck. Holding you with one hand, the other on his cock slowly stroking it, bringing it up to your entrance.
“I’m going to put it in, is that okay, mi amor?”
You looked down at where his cock was rubbing against you, finally seeing his size scared you a bit. You could already tell you were going to be sore the next morning.
“Yes, please Miguel.”
“Of course, mi amor.”
He whispered in your ear, slowly sliding it in. You had never taken anyone his size before, however he took it slow, aware of the pain and discomfort you would fist feel. He was less than halfway when he looks up at you.
“Tell me if it’s to much, we can st-“
“No! Please, don’t! I need this, I need you!”
With that Miguel bottomed out in you, erupting a moan from both of you. He then began to slowly slide out again, only to thrust back in with a bit of force, causing you to let out a little yelp.
He let out a slight chuckle at the sound you made, he pressed his lips to yours in a chaste kiss. As soon as his lips left yours, he started to move his hips, slowly sliding his cock in and out of your entrance.
“Like that?~”
He leaned in and whispered into your ear, it sounded like more of a statement than it did a question.
“Yes, Miguel. Please, please…”
Your face was buried in his shoulder from embarrassment and desperation. Miguel’s hand made it’s way to your head, grabbing at your hair. Pulling your head back to make direct eye contact with you.
“Hey, use your words. Behave like I know you can, and tell me what you want.”
His tone is soft yet still demanding of you. The longing eye contact that he holds with you as he awaits your answer, sends shivers down your spine. Suddenly he send a thrust up into you.
“Tell me what you want from me…”
He leans into your ear
“Before I take you the way I want, and fuck you till your legs go fucking numb.”
Another thrust from him sends through you. A moan escaping the confines of your mouth.
“Y-you, I want you Miguel. I’ve always wanted you.”
Your lips reached up to his, both pressing against each other in want and bliss. Miguel started to move his hips, causing you to moan into the kiss. He continued his movements, his only mission being to please you.
As he starts to pick up his thrusts, his head falls to the crook of your neck. A trail of kisses and light bite marks are left behind. You let out whimpers as Miguel groans in your ear, both not far from total bliss.
“Miguel… I-im getting clo-“
“Can I come inside?”
The question left you a bit stunned, not expecting it.
“Yes!”
“Good, cause I wasn’t planning on fucking pulling out.”
And with a few more thrusts, you were filled with more than just his cock. His excess dripping out of you, his fingers find there way down and push his cum back into you. Your body collapsing on his
“Can you stand?”
“I-I think so.”
You try and stable yourself, wobbling a bit in the process. Miguel’s hands hovering over your body, in case you were to fall. Once he knows for sure your stable, he walks over to grab your suit off the floor. He helps you get dressed, bringing his suit back as well.
Once you both were composed he leans in for a kiss, your hands travel to his hair, welcoming the kiss. His hold on you is tight as if you would leave at any second.
“You guys done yet?”
A familiar voice causing you both to pull your lips apart.
“Gosh you guys are loud, whole damn HQ could hear you.”
You both turned to face a small Lyla hologram, a look of smugness on her face. With a snap of Lyla’s fingers the force field was down.
“You caused this?”
Miguel’s fingers were pinching at his nose bridge
“I swear, I’ll rewire you into a mindless bot.”
“Hey! I did you a favor.”
She suddenly appeared beside you
“He would never stop gushing about you, or admiring you.”
Miguel lunged forward trying to grab the hologram, it was no use, as she was gone in a second only to reappear once again.
“Nice try lover boy.”
And with that she was gone, leaving you and Miguel. You walked towards Miguel, placing your hands on his face.
“Come on, let’s go.”
You both swung off the platform, walking away in the distance.
“See,all you need is a little forced close proximity..which leads to more.”
This Fan Fiction is written, owned, and published by: @sp0-t ©️
DO NOT: Republish, Rewrite, Translate, OR, Steal My Work Without My Consent (please and thank you)
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engeorged · 1 year
Text
Dear Alex
Dear Alex,
I can’t really remember how many times I’ve started writing this letter and how many times I’ve thrown it in the bin. It’s a really shitty way of doing this but I just don’t think I can tell you any of this to your face. I’m too embarrassed. It all started as a prank, a way to level the tables with the both of us. I meant to tell you sooner but I guess it got out of hand and here we are. I’m gonna have to start at the beginning I think. You’ll know all of this, just not my side of it I guess.
After university when we moved in together I wasn’t sure we’d last as room mates for more than a few months but it was so easy hanging out with you and we were both the same level of untidy so we didn’t piss each other off. We did have those tricky few weeks a few years back when we dated the same guy without realising but he turned into the biggest ballsack on the planet so it wasn’t hard to get over that!
I’m only mentioning that because that’s not the reason I got you fat. It wasn’t revenge for anything. I don’t fully remember the original reason to be completely honest, it wasn’t really a thought through thing, it just sort of happened. And yeah I know I just threw that it there. I got you fat. I mean you definitely played your part in it but I really messed with you man and I’m sorry.
It was innocent at first, I noticed when you started your new job and you were tired all the time, you started going to the gym less. I think it was when we were decorating the kitchen one weekend and you were painting the ceiling, I saw your rounded little pot belly when you were reaching up. All those late night take aways and evenings sat in front of the tv watching the football were taking their toll. Your flat muscled six pack was disappearing. It instantly filled me with hope. You had a flaw I could exploit!
It pains me to say this but of the two of us, you’d always been the hot one. Don’t get me wrong, on my own, I’m not bad looking. In fact if someone asked me I’d probably say I was a nine, it’s just that next to you, I’m a seven at best. Your blonde hair and permanently tanned skin made you the hottest guy in most rooms. All 6’5 of you was built like a cartoon of a rugby player which made it even worse! You’re a solid ten man and you always have been. I don’t think I realised how jealous I was until I saw you had a flaw. That solid curved furry belly I glimpsed gave me the seed of an idea. If you were fatter, it might even the playing field. I’m not proud of this, I just think you’d reserve the truth.
It started gently at first, I’d make twice the amount of food I’d normally make when it was my turn to cook. I’d pack the fridge with snacks and unhealthy things for you to pick at. I’d hand you beers when we were watching the game. You were so zoned into the match you never noticed me topping up your snacks or replacing the bud lights with full fat beers. Over a few months I watched as your little curve turned into a more substantial beer belly. And fuck you if it wasn’t the most perfect beer belly I’d ever seen. I was hoping it would make you less hot but turned out it made you hotter. Instead of a flabby pimply gut covered in stretch marks, you developed a firm round belly with perfect skin and even kept your Adonis belt. That’s when it got serious.
The first thing was gainer shakes. I started sprinkling gainer powder in everything, adding it to every meal or sauce I could dissolve it into. Everything I cooked for you was loaded with butter and ghee to double the calorie count. I found larger versions of our plates so that I could increase your portion sizes without you realising. I even started buying your clothes a size up and replacing the labels so you wouldn't realise. I was literally feeding you up like a fattened calf. And boy did you balloon. The first phase was months long and you gained 20/30lbs but this second phase was like you were being filled with an air pump. I can’t really believe I could do this to someone, especially someone who I would call my best friend.
It all came to a head yesterday when I crossed the line big time. That’s why I’m writing this letter now and actually sending it. I can hear you now snoring from your bedroom. Sleeping off the mammoth meal I stuffed into you across the evening. I’ve been awake all night and I keep going in to check on you to make sure you’re still breathing. I can’t believe you ate as much as you did and I can’t believe I pushed you into doing it.
I was only planning on slipping you a few of the tablets I found online. They were definitely safe and I want you to know I checked them and double checked them to make sure they were ok for human consumption. I guess that gives away the fact that they were actually for animals. I think they are used by wagyu beef farmers to get cows fattened up before they are butchered. They are supposed to increase appetite and metabolism. I popped two in your beer before the game and started my usual sneaky increase in your snacks. It wasn’t hard as you always put a lot away when our team is winning and they were three goals up by half time. I think at that point you’d eaten two bowls of Doritos and dip, a plate of sliders and a whole pan of chilli which I think would have served 8 comfortably. That was on top of the best of a crate of twelve beers. Your belly was swollen up to it’s usual bulging mass and you were already rubbing the sides to alleviate some pressure. I should have stopped there but I couldn’t help myself. I slipped you another few of the tablets. I guess in hindsight, the first two hadn’t properly kicked in at that point which meant that by the time the second half had started they were in full force. I couldn’t keep up with the snacks and you’d pretty much polished off the lot by the time the match had ended.
For the record it was your idea to order pizza. Your belly at that point was totally rounded out and your T-shirt was stretched over it’s taut surface. I guess you were pretty buzzed because you ordered four xl meat feasts. I didn’t really have any choice but to let it happen. And you might not remember any of this but you basically inhaled the first two. By that point you were fully maxed out. Your belly was tight and even the xxxl T-shirt you were wearing (that you thought was an xl) was beginning to show a few inches of your swollen belly. You could hardly move and I felt awful. Well that’s not totally true. I was actually pretty pleased at the state of you. My plan after all was to make you gain a few pounds so I’d be hotter than you and you’d basically blimped.
Anyway, what happened next I am truly ashamed about. You were laying there on the sofa clutching at your belly. The tablets clearly convincing your brain you were still starving, even thought your belly was basically an exercise ball now. And you were just moaning with the two pizzas next to you. And that’s when I snapped. I jumped up and shoved a whole slice into your mouth. You gaged but then after a few chews swallowed it right down. Slice by slice I pushed the remaining two huge pizzas down your throat. I could literally see your belly blowing up in front of me. When eventually I reached into the box for the next piece and found nothing, I realised what I’d done. I stepped back and looked at you. Spread eagle on the sofa, your belly sticking way up and round. Covered in sweat and grease. It’s as if I stepped out of my own body and realised what I had done to you. You were fucking huge man.
I left the room and went to my own to consider what to do next. I was half appalled and half in awe at the size of you man. When I came in half an hour later you were fast asleep and snoring like a pig, your gut still very much occupying its space. Guiltily, I managed to get you into your bed and laid you on your back so your belly could reach its full swell. I pulled your belt off so your stomach wasn’t under any pressure. I didn’t want you to pop or anything.
As I said I know our friendship is probably over but I want you to know I’m truly sorry. I took this way too far and I regret it. I’m happy for you to do what you need to do, and if that’s punch me in the face then so be it. I hope that in a few weeks you’ll be able to forgive me but if not then I understand and I will move out if that’s what you want.
In the spirit of fully disclosure, I want you to know that even though you’re maybe 100lbs fatter than you were, I still think you’re a ten. In fact if I’m really honest, I think you might even be hotter than that. Your belly last night was horrifying but also strangely attractive. The firm roundness of it and knowing how much food I’d crammed in there was actually quite erotic. Sorry if that’s tmi but I think I wanted you to have the whole truth. I have a small suspicion that you’ve actually enjoyed getting bigger and if that’s wrong then I’m sorry for presuming. But I actually wonder how big we could get that thing.
Let me know what I can do to make it up to you, or if I’m right and you wanna continue.
Yours apologetically (and hopefully)
Nate
Continued at Dear Nate
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britcision · 5 months
Text
So I made it 4 years without being struck down by AO3 Author Curse! But here we are. I’ll spare y’all the details but let’s just say “fuck this year” and leave it there. We’ve had the requisite Third Bad Thing and I will burn the universe down if it goes for a fourth
What this means for y’all, of course, is that there’s been a long ass break between last chapter and this one! Aaaaand this one is being broken in half because it is Longer Than Tumblr Allows
(And they’ve lessened how many paragraph breaks you get cuz this one is only about 9.5k and it made me add it in thirds, woe is me)
So, as usual, links to the first chapter, last chapter, and the link to the AO3 version is I think in BOTH, so if you can’t find it from there I can’t help you 😁
First Chapter:
Last Chapter:
And just a little recap where last we left off:
Bruce has gone to the Watchtower to debrief the Justice League about Amity Park and the Anti Ecto Acts, and been told that Jason has left the land of the living! But like, on purpose
Jason and Danny have gone to visit Frostbite and learned that they are ghost-bonded, which you should take seriously like being ghost-married, and that Jason is gonna pop out Pitty in a couple more days/weeks and have to emotionally raise a ghost-baby
Tucker, Tim, and Conner are all playing video games and hiding out from the Amity Parker/Bat Chat for Tim and Tucker’s mutual stalking ways, which Sam blew wide open by sharing Timblr, as punishment for Tucker not telling her they were all alive
(Danny’s off the hook cuz Tucker was haunting his phone with soundtracks for half the day)
And Damian’s off being Sketchy And Mysterious
————————
Well You Did Get Down On One Knee (part 1)
The evening was beginning to draw in, the sun getting low over Gotham city. Between her patrol the night before, helping Signal out with a case, and then that brief group heart attack about Jason, it had already been a really long day.
Spoiler cracked her neck a couple times and sighed, then sunk into the shadow behind a gargoyle.
It was smaller than usual… and occupied. Robin glowered up at her, leaping up to sit on the gargoyle’s head instead. He looked for all the world like he wanted to hiss at her like a cranky cat, which diffused all of Spoiler’s tension (but would only make his worse if she mentioned it. Maybe tomorrow).
Sighing philosophically she settled back against the base of the gargoyle, tipping her head back to see him.
“Hey… what are you doing out so early? Usually you lot wait until sundown to swing from the shadows,” she pointed out (rather fairly, she thought). Totally ignoring that she was 1000% usually one of “you lot”.
Robin just scowled disdainfully down at her, then twisted his head away to glare at the city instead.
“As if I needed any more reason to be out than you do,” he sniffed archly.
Spoiler grinned, puffing herself up. She did have an answer for this one, and, being generous or not, winding Robin up was always a treat.
“Hey, I was actually requested today. Signal needed a second pair of eyes on the back door of a bust. Didn’t see you there,” she added innocently, a brow rising.
It was technically possible that Robin could have suited up and left the manor in between Bruce’s message and Tim’s response. Spoiler wouldn’t put money on it though.
He’d have had to be on his way down already, and while they could all change quickly, there were no rushed or sloppy patches to her experienced eye.
His hair was even neatly slicked back into the traditional Robin spikes, one every Robin but her and Duke had used during their time as the baby bird.
Nah, he’d not rushed out in a panic, even if he was still more tense than he should have been. Every line of the kid was tight with… Spoiler cocked her head thoughtfully.
Frustration?
Definitely not unusual, Damian didn’t have Dick’s temper but he’d spent pretty much all of his first few years in Gotham unbearably frustrated with them all. It had just been a while since she’d seen it so… visibly.
And for all Steph was a gleeful little shit and loved poking at trouble, she wasn’t cruel. There was no point in pushing Robin if he was already on edge.
So she shrugged nonchalantly and looked forward instead, reaching back over her head to pat him gently on the foot. He didn’t dodge, which only cemented her decision.
“‘Course, no rule against taking a daylight run if you’re in the mood. See anything interesting?” She asked innocently.
Kid wouldn’t admit it if he had been worrying.
Silence reigned for another long moment, and then Robin huffed and dropped down to the rooftop beside her, folding himself back into the sharper shadow the waning daylight provided.
“No.” Short and sweet, unlike the kid himself.
But he also hadn’t left, and Spoiler was gonna call that a win.
“Will you be out tonight too?” She asked instead of pushing, reminding herself yet again; he’d open up in his own time.
Hypothetically.
Robin made a soft, disgusted noise, glowering at the smog filled sky. Probably even in the right direction for the Watchtower.
“I intend to be. Someone must keep an eye on things,” he grumbled, and Spoiler made an effort not to take it personally.
B had been majorly distracted with all this Amity Park business, not even breathing down their necks about the usual nightly reports. The rogues hadn’t exactly noticed yet, but the goons had.
The big Bat himself not making an appearance for a couple of nights usually attracted some comment, and an up-til-now entirely Bat-free new year?
The guys she’d helped Signal grab today had been muttering about it right until they ran into her arms. Fists.
They’d mentioned not seeing Stabby Robin either though.
Which she might as well also mention.
“Weren’t you out last night too? I saw your gear missing when I dropped by at the end of the night,” she added when he tensed again, hands wedged in her utility belt. “Didn’t hear you on comms though.”
And that was more than just rude; it was bad protocol, and Robin, for all his other faults, respected the strictness of protocol. Not being chatty was one thing, but if you were out on the town you had to call in.
He stayed silent, not looking at her. Spoiler decided he could use just a little nudge. Totally not because she was getting impatient. And nosy.
“Y’know unless you went out tech free I can just ask Oracle,” she pointed out gently, giving his shoulder a gentle bump.
It got him to glower up at her anyway.
“I was not on patrol,” he grumbled, whites of his mask narrowed before returning his glare to the city at large, “like I am not today.”
When he didn’t elaborate, Spoiler flipped a mental coin. Figured why not; they were already doing well.
Kid must be on the verge of having to, dread the thought, ask for help.
“And what would you be doing out and about if not patrolling…” she began, then stopped when a piece clicked suddenly into place.
Robin, Damian, was about as social as a feral cat. And about as friendly with anyone who got close to those he considered his.
Right now, Danny Fenton and his friends had more than half the family utterly wound up. All except Bruce in a good way, Spoiler was the first to admit, but Robin wouldn’t see it like that.
The only trick was, how to word the question.
Spoiler liked blunt. It made her stand out from the bats, who all played way too much mental and emotional chicken to be healthy. She’d always been more of a bird that way.
“Wouldn’t have anything to do with Hood’s little disappearance today, would it?” She asked instead, grinning broadly when Robin twitched.
Hit the nail on the head.
From the scowl he shot her he knew it too, and looked away quickly enough that he knew there was no taking it back. He folded his arms across his chest and sulked and fuck he was just adorable.
She’d bet anything Dick used to pout exactly like that.
Still, she tempered the grin down to a slight smile. Dropped a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently and letting go when he pulled away.
“Worried me too. Were you close enough to see anything?” Because yeah, if Robin was already at least on his way into uniform before the message arrived?
Spoiler would put easy, easy money on him having been already tailing Jason and Danny around. Last night too, probably. She and Cass had left early to take the night shift, leaving Tim and Damian with the Amity Parkers.
Damian had one hell of a dose of his father’s paranoia, and Steph considered it a solemn duty to teach him about personal boundaries to keep him from turning out just like the old bat.
Just a little friendly stalking from the rooftops didn’t really count though. Not between family.
Robin had tensed right up again too, but when she didn’t push the contact or needle at him he slowly relaxed back down. Scowled at her feet instead of his own.
“No,” he admitted bitterly, both at definitely having been busted and probably at having nothing to report, “Todd… Hood spoke to the magician. They argued, he went back inside Freeze’s place and did not reappear when his tracker went through the roof and into the sky.”
Spoiler blinked, mildly surprised.
“Hood was wearing a tracker? Didn’t think he was in the mood.”
“He wasn’t,” Robin corrected with a derisive sniff.
And… yeah, they were gonna have to do a little more work on that whole “boundaries” thing. Although the odds of Hood not noticing that he’d been tagged were lower than Robin probably thought. Keeping a tag on him that he didn’t want there?
Nah. She may not exactly trust Jason, but that was how she knew how good he was at finding and disabling rogue trackers. And sure, Damian was better than her at some things, but if Cass couldn’t sneak a tracker onto Red Hood no one could.
Kinda cute that Jason let the little guy think he’d successfully bugged him.
At least the constant mild stalking was just standard for the family.
Shaking her head, she gave him a gentle nudge with her elbow.
“That’s rough. Flying’s cheating,” she commiserated with a sly look to the sky.
She’d heard a super cross Oracle’s radar. Conner, almost certainly if Robin was still out alone.
Too bad he’d not thought to call his own Superboy, though taking flight himself wouldn’t have helped if dimensional travel followed.
Robin made another disgusted little tut, then pushed off the gargoyle and stormed away. Spoiler watched him go for a moment, then shrugged.
“Hey, go get some sleep if you’re coming back out tonight,” she called after him. Grinned when he flipped her off without turning.
If he’d been off stalking Jason and Danny two days in a row, he’d need some rest.
“And don’t forget your report,” she teased and actually laughed when he raised his other hand to flip her off with both before leaping off the edge of the roof, swinging back towards the bat cave.
Stephanie Brown had never been prouder in her life than the first day Damian had said “fuck” in front of his dad. Far be it from her to demand anyone transform into a social butterfly, but she personally was pretty damn sure that nothing was gonna help Damian out of his “raised by assassins” shell than learning some good old fashioned swearwords.
And a little teenaged rebellion. The proudest day was totally gonna be when he finally told his grandfather to fuck off (or any suitable equivalent; Steph wasn’t choosy).
Leaning back into the gargoyle’s shadow, Spoiler surveyed the city below. Technically, she’d been out as long as Damian had; if she wanted to be out tonight she’d need a quick nap too.
Or, more fun, she could nip back to the manor, kidnap Cass, and they could find and bully Tim and Tucker in person. Yeah, that was gonna be it.
**
Jason was feeling good, really. Actually a little surprised at how good, considering.
That crunchy little ecto-ice chip had been better than a gallon of coffee, filling him with energy like he’d actually gotten a full night’s sleep. (Not that he knew much about how that actually felt, at least not when not recovering from serious injury.)
He hadn’t actually felt this good since the night Danny slept over, which had been the night before last. Didn’t sound all that impressive, except that it had been the best he’d felt in half a decade.
Maybe the full decade. For all Robin made him magic, skipping sleep to fight crime had done a number on him in his teens. If he’d been as willing as Dickie and Tim to slack on his schoolwork, maybe…
Yeah, no, Tim was the poster child for Do Not Emulate This Sleep Schedule.
What mattered was that even after running the docks down with Black Bat for more than half the night and then getting up to get Danny, Jason felt fucking great.
Even after three separate courses of Bruce’s bullshit, both directly and through the medium of John fucking Constantine. Not so long ago, Bruce would never even dare call him, much less try and set up a bat cave ambush. That… was probably technically a good sign?
Didn’t feel like one at the moment, but Jason actually felt almost good enough to be charitable with the old bat. A little emotionally wrung out, sure, but he felt lighter for… having whatever that had been. Like the stress that had been compacting his chest had finally eased.
Jason was self aware enough to admit he’d probably had more than one breakdown owed to him. Maybe not a “take to the bed”, “trip to the sea” full Victorian lady meltdown, but he’d had a whole baby dropped on him. Except somehow worse.
He damn well deserved that freak out, and now that it was over and he’d been given what kinda felt like the ghost equivalent of speed… He felt like his brain was finally working again.
Which… meant he was fully processing that his fucking soul was vibrating in time with Danny’s. And every other ghost could just. Tell.
That was gonna make fight club… actually, Jason had no idea what the fuck it was gonna make fight club. By all accounts Danny being the Ghost King hadn’t made any of them less likely to throw down with him.
If anything, Danny had warned Jason that him being a “young” ghost would make the others more eager to fight. It was a kind of play, bonding and teaching the new baby their powers.
Sounded fucking terrifying by all accounts and Jason was just glad he had Danny to explain it to him, since apparently full ghosts just… knew it wasn’t serious. Even baby ghosts came into existence recognising the game.
Halfas didn’t.
Whiiiich meant that all the “playful” threats of dismemberment had sounded pretty fucking real to Danny, back when he’d been a baby ghost and had half the Zone flocking to “play” with him.
Pitty let out a rumbly little growl, like a sulking dog and Jason hid a snicker. Yeah, he’d also be kicking their asses that little bit harder for that given half a chance.
Actually, if they kept holding fight club, Pitty could take a chunk out of them itself.
That thought got him a contented little purr, which was weird enough that Jason was going to focus back in on Frostbite’s broader explanation. Which… he should have been doing anyway. At least this part wasn’t solely for his benefit though.
“In the sense that you have tied yourselves together, it may be somewhat like a marriage… however, it is a very different relationship. In a true love-union, your signatures would beat in time,” the yeti explained, gesturing once more to the screen.
Jason’s blob continued to pulse and blur a fraction of a beat behind Danny’s. Definitely not quite in time.
This was a relief. Yup. And Jason’s cheeks definitely weren’t any warmer than they’d been a minute ago, before he knew that, again, his fucking soul was echoing Danny’s.
Frostbite gave his tablet a couple more taps, and a pulsing blue line linked the images on the screen.
“In your case, young knight, your allegiance is marked in both your resonance and in your aura, which now carries a link to your King. In this way, even if the Great One is not beside you, all ghosts will know that you are the chosen protector of their King. His status is what defines your role as a knight, instead of a more casual bond.”
“No one’s king yet,” Danny protested, folding his arms and leaning into Jason’s side. Letting a little more of his weight rest on him.
Jason leaned in too, frowning from the screen to Frostbite.
“And all the other ghosts can just… see this?” He asked, not really sure what he was hoping to be told.
Frostbite switched from giving Danny a fond smile back to Jason, nodding brightly.
“Oh yes. Ectoplasm is very easily influenced by emotion, and bonds can form quite quickly. I presume you took an oath?” He asked, eyes sparkling in a way that made Jason pretty damn sure he’d met Clockwork.
Which, now that he thought about it…
Jason huffed out another deep breath, running a hand through his hair. As much as John Fucking Constantine specifically could ride a cactus straight to Hell… the guy mighta had the faintest inkling of a point about one thing.
“Yeah… about that.” He pulled a face, gaze tracking away from the others and down to the floor.
Would they think he was a dumbass too? Danny had been there when Clockwork made the offer and he’d been pretty against it, but Jason had thought he understood why.
It hadn’t sounded anything like Constantine’s claims of what he’d signed up for.
In the end, it was easier to address the question to Frostbite’s large hairy toes.
“I, uh… I made an oath to Clockwork, but do I have… a contract or something? The asshole magician I mentioned earlier was going on and on about eternal fucking servitude bullshit but it’d be nice to have something to shove in his face,” he added quickly, arm slipping back and almost around Danny (but with his hand still firmly on the table).
He didn’t need to wait to feel the guilt in Danny’s aura to head it off.
Jason wasn’t having second thoughts. He wasn’t sorry for what he’d signed up for, and when it came right down to it…
He didn’t think people could lie through their auras. Even when he was trying to project something like “I’m fine” and he wasn’t, he was pretty sure Danny could tell.
He could sure as hell tell when Danny was bluffing through his, which had happened maybe once total.
He trusted Danny. He trusted Frostbite. He even mostly trusted Clockwork, because for all the guy had been a little sketchy, Jason had felt his sincerity. How deeply he cared for Danny.
Keeping Danny safe forever didn’t sound like eternal servitude. Eternal babysitting, maybe, if Danny was being a pain in the ass, but he’d never top Damian at his most bratty.
Jason woulda been trying to protect Danny anyway. As far as he knew, knighthood just made that easier.
Which was another reason he’d like a look at his contract. You didn’t make it onto the streets as Robin without learning to read for loopholes, hidden clauses, and fine print. He may have already signed on the dotted line, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t find some wiggle room.
Danny, about to say something either apologetic or self deprecating, huffed out a breath as Jason’s arm slipped around him. Winded up giving him a half smile instead.
“Yeah… that’s a good point. I still need to find out if I can fire your ass.”
“Still didn’t hire me,” Jason pointed out archly, bumping his arm to knock Danny forwards a little.
The other halfa huffed a laugh this time and bumped him back.
“Yeah, and I gotta work out how to hire you so I can then immediately fire you,” he shot back.
Frostbite cut them both off with a raised hand, though he still looked fondly amused. Like they were cute little kids or something stupid.
“You will have to discuss this with Clockwork directly, young knight, but I do not believe a knighthood typically comes with a contract. It is a duty one is granted, and one that may be rescinded if you fail, but it is not a deal,” he explained patiently.
Jason’s brows furrowed a little, but at least he could feel Danny’s confusion-puzzled-not sure beside him too. He wasn’t the only one who wasn’t quite sure what that meant.
Maybe he shoulda looked a little more into magic shit while he was with the League of Assassins. That would have been the time, especially if the Lazarus Pits were the just grunged ectoplasm.
“It kinda sounded like a deal when he offered it,” he said almost as a question, glancing back at Danny for confirmation.
Danny nodded. So it wasn’t just Jason.
“He gave me a cool magic gun in exchange for keeping Danny hale and hearty. Protecting him in the living and Infinite realms,” Jason added in case the wording counted, more sure as he remembered some of the reasons.
Fuck, had that only been a week ago? It felt like it’d been a whole year.
Frostbite gave them a neutral shrug, inclining his head.
“As I said, you will need to ask Clockwork directly. All I can tell you is that it is not innate to the position; a knighthood is not usually something bought and sold,” he explained patiently.
Danny hummed an agreement, cheek resting on Jason’s shoulder again.
“It’s normally all ghost-to-ghost too, so is there a way we can check if the halfa thing has changed it?” He asked Frostbite, leaning against the table too and totally not actually putting his arm around Jason back.
Jason felt a little more tension leech back out of him. Which raised another good point, actually.
“And not related or anything, but if you gave me a buncha those ice crystals could I just chew them to get the ecto for…” he hesitated, waving his free hand at his general chest area again.
Honestly, given half a chance he’d love to get a bowl full and try and pop the pit out in one go… it’d probably be easier to train from outside his body where it wouldn’t immediately know he was so full of shit… his own aura notwithstanding.
Yeah, he was still a little worried about being anyone’s emotional guide, but if he could just get the damn thing out in the world… maybe it could have other guides too.
“To answer the simpler question first, young knight, unfortunately the energized ectoplasm is only a short term boost and will not affect either of your cores. I will provide you with a small supply to assist your emotional control whilst you stabilize, if you wish?” Frostbite offered gently, a slight smile on his face.
Jason hesitated, considering things for a moment, then nodded. Sure, it wasn’t a solid “yes here is the answer to all your problems Jason just smack it in”, but it was a concrete solution to what had actually been worrying him.
Having another one of those weird “episodes”. He’d still be waiting to get Pitty all the way out, but at least he had a backup plan until then. He could pop an ecto-crystal each morning, get some energy, and worry less about night patrols.
Shit, he’d have more energy than he’d had since he died. The others were gonna be jealous as hell, but it wasn’t like they could steal and take his ghost meds. Probably.
Jason… wasn’t quite ready to think about the panic attack itself. He felt fine now, way better, and it wasn’t like it was the first he’d had.
Just…
Just the first that he remembered. That his heart started racing, his head rushing, ears filled with rushing static and the world hadn’t just melted into a green haze of blood and violence.
His early training with the League of Assassins had involved a lot of losing himself to the Pit. He’d wake up days later, body aching with exertions he couldn’t remember, and be told how many he’d killed.
Good news: no fear of that either, apparently. Pitty wasn’t pulling for control anymore, so the green haze was all Jason’s own.
Joy.
He had a nasty feeling that Danny would notice him spiralling from anywhere in Gotham. And probably ditch class to come check on him.
Like Hell. Jason’d fucking call Harley first, put himself through some breathing exercises or whatever, he did not need an emotional support Ghost King.
He gave Frostbite a quick nod, a small smile forming almost without thinking about it. The yeti was just… so caring and helpful. Not exactly something Jason had a wealth of experience with. He’d probably be a great example for Pitty.
Frostbite returned the smile, making a quick note on his tablet.
“And of course, your ghostly parent or a mentor should also be able to assist you. Spending time with those who are important to you, especially a comforting figure will help both your control and your core formation,” the yeti added in a slightly pointed way, like he’d read Jason’s mind, and Jason had to stifle a laugh.
Frostbite might be an eight foot tall hairy yeti, but he’d get along with Alfred like a house on fire… he was even as stubborn about not using their names as Alfred was about nicknames.
And when Jason thought about someone comforting, the beacon of emotional maturity and constraint… it could only be Alfred. He was more grandparent than parent, but certainly the only mentor Jason still looked up to. And a paragon of control besides.
Alfred could help him with Pitty. Model a little actual emotional restraint and control for the both of them. The only question was if Jason could just be up front and ask him, possibly revealing the secret early, or if he’d have to come up with an excuse for them to hang out.
Stupid thought. Jason knew damn well he could just walk into the kitchen and Alfred would be more than happy to spend time together. He wouldn’t need a ruse; he wouldn’t even need an excuse.
The knowledge settled warm and soft and happy inside him, until his brain caught up with his ears and stopped him short.
Wait.
“Ghost parent?” He asked cautiously, looking from Frostbite to Danny again. Danny pulled a face but Frostbite beat him to the punch.
“Ah, yes. We did not discuss that last time either. Your ghost parent, young knight, is the second strongest bond a young ghost can have. They are the ghost who welcomes you into the Infinite Realms, who will guide your steps and protect you until your own haunt has formed.”
Brows furrowing, Jason twisted to frown more directly at Danny, not quite sure if he was looking for confirmation or asking a question of his own.
Cuz, y’know, other than the whole “protecting until his haunt formed” (and Jason certainly didn’t need protecting), that sounded a lot like what Danny had been doing. Which would totally make it weird if Jason was a knight to his own ghost-dad.
Clearly following the same lines, Danny raised both hands and shook his head, almost but not quite stepping out of reach.
“Oh no, it’s not me. You’ve had a ghost parent long before I came along,” he said emphatically, the sudden panic on his face making Jason feel better about his own response to surprise parenthood.
He magnanimously decided not to tease Danny about it, turning instead to give Frostbite a questioning look.
“Should I know who my ghost parent is? Who gets to decide?” He asked cautiously. He’d never met another ghost before Danny, but he had this awful sinking feeling that Ra’s al Ghul might have more to do with the realms than just the pits, and he was the closest proxy. Even Tallia would be better. Maybe even Bruce.
Reading his tension, Frostbite clapped a massive furry hand on Jason’s shoulder, smile and aura both full of comfort-reassurance-calm.
“Normally yes young knight, though yours is a special case. Usually when a young ghost first finds its way to the realms, one of the first ghosts they encounter will take them under their wing. It is an honour to care for a young ghost, and a halfa even more so,” he explained gently.
Beside Jason, Danny snorted loudly.
“Oh, yeah, they totally come running to play happy families. Super wholesome,” he grumbled, arms folded as he leaned back into Jason’s weight.
Honestly, Jason could kinda spot common threads between what Frostbite just said and what Danny had told him about Fight Club; the play fighting was supposed to be about sharing powers, right? Just, y’know, between people with shit verbal communication to actually check in that everyone was on the same page.
The yeti sighed fondly, his hand moving from Jason’s shoulder to rest proudly on Danny’s. Given the width of Danny’s shoulders respective to the hand, the last two fingers were back on Jason’s other shoulder.
“Again, Great One, your circumstances were also exceptional. You did not explore the Ghost Zone until after you had established yourself to many as a competent fighter and protector of your haunt, which along with certain… adventures led most to believe you were far older than you are,” Frostbite explained patiently, with just the faintest hint that they’d been through this before.
Danny rolled his eyes and shot Jason double finger guns.
“Yyyyup, which is why I don’t have to deal with any of this “ghost parent” business,” he agreed brightly, tipping Jason a smirk, “get good.”
Jason flipped him off, but there was something… not in his aura, Frostbite’s was still very carefully toned back all calm medical professional, but in the creasing of the yeti’s eyes. Now, ghost yetis were definitely a new species and Batman drilled them all on the dangers of extrapolating body language on new species, but Jason had done his time on alien planets.
Something in the change, something in the shift, a little quirk of the brow Jason had noted when the yeti was amused. There was something funny here, and it wasn’t Danny’s quip.
Putting his suspicions aside for now, Jason settled on the more pressing matter.
“So who is my ghost parent? When do I get to meet them?” He asked cautiously, still not entirely convinced he hadn’t accidentally imprinted on Ra’s or Tallia. Cuz he hadn’t been in the Zone before Danny either.
Danny himself, much less concerned, waved a hand vaguely.
“Oh, we’ll deal with that on the way home. Go do a proper meet and greet, that sort of thing,” he said nonchalantly, and Jason’s shoulders settled a little.
“They’re in the Zone then?” He prodded a little further, not fully willing to let the matter just drop. If he had to ghost-emancipate himself, he’d rather be ready sooner than later.
Danny grinned toothily at him.
“Usually. We’ll see if she’s around, but it might have to be another day. Gotta deal with our other list first, like if our whole halfa deal is gonna do anything to the knight thing, or your core coming in,” he added, looking expectantly at Frostbite.
Jason almost missed what he said next as his heart skipped a beat, a possibility he’d never even considered slamming home.
She.
Someone dead, if they were in the Ghost Zone.
Someone who’d claimed him as her son long ago, guided him as best she could. Someone he’d never expected to see again, not even having died and returned to life himself.
No chance, he told himself quickly, hurriedly refocusing on the conversation at hand. About his bond with Danny, about their shared fucked biology, about his whole undead future.
There was no point dredging up the past until he actually knew.
Frostbite was back in his familiar role of teacher, that same proud/warm/fond smile crinkling the corners of his eyes as he looked at Danny.
“For your bond, Great One, I am not sure what I would even test for. The young knight presently has no ghost form, yet the bond is present exactly as if he had. I am afraid we have no records of former halfas, so any problems which occurred before are long lost.”
The yeti gave the tablet another few careful claw strokes, pulling up lines and lines of scrolling numbers and data beside each of their silhouettes on the wall screen. Forcing himself to the present, Jason scanned them quickly.
Unsurprisingly, he couldn’t actually make heads or tails of it; ghost vitals couldn’t really include things like heartbeat, blood oxygenation, or anything they’d test for in the med bay.
Not until Bruce found out about all this crap anyway - Jason wouldn’t put it past him to try and buy out everything the Far Frozen had in his latest snit of paranoia. The second he got over his “oh no Jason is going somewhere I can’t supervise him”, obviously.
Frostbite clearly knew what it all meant though, highlighting a couple of different areas where Danny’s numbers were very different from Jason’s and giving him that reassuring smile.
“After your first transformation I would expect some of these to change, and it is likely that any differences in your particular bond would show then as well. Your ghost form will of course be entirely ectoplasmic, so the bond will be more present than it is even now.”
That snapped Jason from his internal flailing, and he grimaced at the reminder.
Because… yeah. They’d talked a lot about his first transformation, he and Danny. But the only thing Danny hadn’t really known was when to expect it.
“Yeah… about that. I know the basics, inversion of my moment of death crap, I’ll be able to change it eventually, yadda yadda,” and that was its own sword of Damacles hanging with the mistletoe, “but… when will it happen? Like, will it just… happen? Or will I… yeah.”
Even wording the question made him feel like the whole thing was just too complicated. He wasn’t even sure what he wanted to ask; what to look for? Would there be symptoms? Would he just un-die again in the street?
Luckily Frostbite seemed much more comfortable, hitting a few buttons on his tablet. Jason’s scan took over the full screen once more, zoomed in on the two orbs in his chest.
They were pulsing too, growing brighter and dimmer along with the more defined throb of the ectoplasm. Which was actually when he noticed that both cores were throbbing, so… was Pitty also a knight?
That was going on the list of questions for Clockwork like, yesterday. If he could get it its own little fear gun…
“As you can see, your core is still fuzzy around the edges and incompletely formed; once these edges have smoothed out, you will hypothetically be able to transform at any time,” Frostbite explained, blissfully aware of Jason’s new train of thought.
Probably for the best. Jason reluctantly refocused on the screen, tabling the idea of Sir Pitty for now. Nice to have something actually positive to look forward to.
He didn’t really remember seeing much of the screen during his last appointment, but he had seen the perfect sphere of Danny’s core, and his looked… well, like Frostbite said, smaller and kinda fuzzy. Like a ball of dough after it started sticking to your hands and losing its shape.
He frowned and nodded, looking back to Frostbite and then glancing around at Danny.
“So not until the next appointment, probably? Will it just… happen out of nowhere? Or will I need to trigger it?” It kinda helped, narrowing the scope. Dealing with it one step at a time.
Danny gave a helpless shrug.
“My powers started activating randomly, but I didn’t actually transform until I was in danger. Not like, life threatening danger,” he added with a roll of his eyes, like he’d heard Pitty’s growl… or maybe Jason had echoed it. “It was just Lunch Lady, she was never gonna really hurt us. She just made a mess and tried to feed everyone meat.”
Jason privately added Lunch Lady to his “asses to kick” list. On principle.
Frostbite gave a thoughtful nod, a large hand clapping down on Jason’s shoulder a lot harder than he’d probably intended. He didn’t flinch, but before his pit-growth-spurt it might have knocked him over.
“We can experiment more once your core is complete here in the Zone, and I would recommend waiting until Pitty has been expelled, if possible. Of course, any other changes in your knighthood bond will likely make themselves known with your first change as well,” the yeti mused, quite pleased with the idea.
Jason hesitated before agreeing, worry twisting through him again before he tamped it back down.
He wasn’t that scared little boy anymore; not inside. Besides, the bond was already firmly in place.
His soul was resonating a pace behind Danny’s.
It wasn’t like that little trip back to the moment of his death was gonna make Danny suddenly reject him.
The poor guy was probably stuck with Jason for life anyway at this point, which for a pair of halfas meant pretty much forever.
**
There was not a single thing on Earth or the Watchtower that he wanted less than to stop and talk to John Fucking Constantine and Diana after the meeting.
To be completely fair, Constantine clearly didn’t want to have that conversation any more either; Bruce had not been wrong about how well the magician would take the news that the United States had declared war on an entire dimension.
He was visibly green, had actually ground an unlit cigarette into a grainy mess against the table in lieu of lighting up, and looked about ready to lick up the tobacco.
Diana did not look happy either, but she never had. Her face was as stony and grave as Bruce had ever seen it, concern writ large even as she caught his eye.
The sure knowledge that her lasso would follow if he tried to leave was the only thing that kept him from ignoring her.
But since the only thing he wanted in the world at this moment was to have his son in his arms, and there was no chance of that happening until they were in the same dimension once more…
Bruce shot a quick, questioning look at Clark as the traitor made his way to the exit along with the rest of the Justice League. The Kryptonian at least had the grace to look a little guilty as he shook his head, stepping quickly out the door.
Wonder Woman hadn’t specifically told everyone else to get the fuck out. She had simply molded herself into an immovable force, concluded the meeting, and instructed Bruce alone to remain and discuss these… complications.
Bruce considered making an argument for Superman’s inclusion. They were the original three, and they’d probably need at least his and Aquaman’s help to handle the diplomatic situation.
Possibly the Oa, and Bruce was quite sure Green Lantern wasn’t looking forward to that possibility any more than he was. Hal Jordan talked a good game, always far too flippant, but he’d been pale enough by the end of the lecture that his suit made him look frankly unwell.
Unpleasant times would be in all of their futures it seemed. It was no real comfort as he slipped into a seat across from Wonder Woman and the slumped form of John Constantine.
The magician didn’t even look up, but clearly noticed.
“Didn’t fuckin’ think anyone’d fuck this up worse’n you, Bats,” he groaned, face still pressed into the table.
Bruce grunted, uninterested in his judgement.
“There are new complications we should focus on.” A vain hope, and one Diana instantly crushed.
“One that makes the contents of our discussion all the more vital,” she corrected sharply, piercing blue eyes narrowed as she watched his face. “It seems we have already caused unintentional offence.”
Which was an extremely light way to phrase the declared genocide, but Bruce didn’t bother arguing that position. Not when Constantine would do it for him.
But the mage just let out a long, hearty groan.
“Offence. Yeah. Maybe if we saw off the United States and toss it through a portal the rest of us will be fine,” he snarked, raising his head just enough to bang it off the table. Repeatedly.
By the third bang Diana gripped the back of his head, holding him in place against the table.
“Whatever the situation,” she growled, her tone daring either of them to comment, “we must deal with it as it is. You believe we would have noticed any countermeasures from the former Ghost King?”
She released her grip a moment later, and Constantine rolled his head just enough to glare at her through one eye.
“Pariah Dark? Sister, it wouldn’ta been a single town bein’ pulled off the map. We’d have lost the continent, and probably the world. You wouldn’t miss it,” he added with a bitter laugh, clearly considering banging his head off the table again.
Diana placed a hand on the table. Constantine set his head back down gently.
“And the new king?” She prodded, all icy control.
Bruce had to admit, even he felt calmer watching her.
He knew all the follies and foibles of gods, had no delusions about the limits of her power. He also knew her strengths. Her wisdom. Her ability to cut through complex issues with sword or words.
Whatever he missed, she was removed enough from this mess to catch.
Constantine shrugged, still not rising.
“No fuckin’ clue. All I know is they’re better’n Pariah, which is the lowest damn bar I ever saw. They call them Balance, and we’re not gonna fuckin’ like when the scales come due.”
Bruce’s brows furrowed. What could be a sufficient counterweight for demanding a whole people be hunted and experimented on until extinction?
The dead always vastly outnumbered the living.
Diana cut across his thoughts, her tone as sharp as her blade.
“So you believe we’d notice.”
Constantine sighed heavily and flopped back in his seat hard enough that he nearly toppled over. Diana steadied the chair with one hand, eyebrow rising archly.
Constantine stopped flailing, went to fold his arms, and instead stuffed his hands in his pockets.
“Probably’d be pretty hard to miss too,” he agreed gruffly. Diana nodded, having received the answer she wanted, and interlaced her fingers.
“Then we have time to rectify matters before word reaches his ears.” She paused, brow furrowing as she recounted John’s words. “Do we not know if the King is a man?”
Constantine shrugged again, pulling something unidentifiable from his pocket before hastily shoving it back in, coming out again with a lighter. He spun it between his fingers, eyes fixed on the metal lid.
“Nah. “King” is just a loose translation to living tongues, for what yer used to. Easier to say than “Supreme High Ruler, Core of the Realms”. Not even likely that they were ever human; not even the Ancients could take Pariah solo to take the crown, so a human ghost wouldn’t stand a chance.”
Huffing out a mighty breath, Constantine looked from the lighter to Bruce, his gaze somehow immeasurably more tired. Bruce had imagined that talking about Amity Park made the man look ancient.
He looked haggard enough to be an ancient ghost himself now.
Raising his other hand, he began counting off points on his fingers.
“We know they’re young. Everything agrees on that. Could be any time in the past few centuries, but it’s still a timeline. We know they’re tougher’n Hell and all its demons put together, cuz they put Pariah down single handed. Had to to get the throne. Might not have Ended him, the Casket of Eternal Slumber’s not turned up looking for a new occupant.”
The magician stared at his two fingers for a moment, then sighed and raised a third.
“And we know ghosts like them. They’re less scared, though most of ‘em never knew shit about Pariah. Didn’t even react to him waking, which had to happen for the change in power. That or it all went down too fast for the shockwaves to reach us here; not bloody likely. Wouldn’t take more than a day, and ghosts fight for decades on a whim.”
He hesitated for a moment, considering that last finger. Finally he sighed and shook his head.
“Can’t rule it out though. Pariah waking up’d be as much an emergency for them as it’d be for us, putting his ass back down is an all hands on deck situation on either side of the veil. If this new king is Balance, Pariah’d be their opposite,” he finished gruffly, glaring at all three digits before stuffing both hands into his pockets.
Bruce nodded, drawing a deep, calming breath in through his nose and then out through his mouth. Even this much discussion had something itching in the back of his mind, a building tension that he had to Get Away.
He was in control of it though. Could tell the difference between his own unease and the burning ember of the oath.
Turn and run right away his ass. Magic could never hold out against cool, calm logic.
“And this new king, Balance, has stamped a damn mark on Jason.”
And his breath hitched.
Sharp, white hot panic flared behind his eyes, every muscle clenching with the effort of not leaping straight from the table. The only reason he didn’t was because he had no idea where to go.
What would he even do? Run to Jason’s side? The boy was in another dimension, far beyond Bruce’s reach.
Again.
He was losing Jason again. Losing him to this Ghost King, this Balance, this-
Diana’s hand clamped firmly over his, the amazon’s grip immovable steel. Bruce felt his bones grinding together before he even noticed he’d stopped breathing, before he managed to look up enough to meet her eyes.
Stern, determined, brilliant blue locked with his. Her grip tightened a little further, the ribbing on his gloves creaking with the pressure.
She wouldn’t break them… probably. They were designed to hold up against any of the supers the League dealt with. Prolonged contact was another thing entirely though.
His attention now locked on her face, Bruce managed a deep breath in along with her. Held it when she did. Let it out.
She didn’t release him for another few repetitions, until he was breathing mostly on his own again. Then she returned her attention to Constantine.
“What.” It wasn’t aggressive. Just a completely flat, completely toneless statement.
Constantine gave her an entirely hopeless smile, pulling his hands from his pockets to give her jazz hands.
“And that’s what he’s not ready to hear yet. Your boy, Jason, Red Hood, has gotten himself personally warded by the Ghost King. He’s the next thing to invulnerable right now,” he added bitterly, as if that made any of it better.
An icy hand clenched in Bruce’s chest again, but he forced himself to still. To breathe through it. To not turn and run, run until he found his child and tore him away from whatever influence had him.
The Ghost King had a hold of Jason. Jason who’d all but ordered Bruce to let him go.
“And Jason must have been in direct contact with the King to receive these wards?” Diana asked sharply, and Bruce’s head snapped back to her.
It was a good question. Important, obvious, there was a connection there that he should be making, but he couldn’t think. His head was spinning, heart pounding, and every shadow seemed black as pitch.
Constantine grunted an agreement, shooting Bruce an almost sympathetic look.
Could. Could this be the oath? Not his own instinctive, natural panic?
Bruce couldn’t tell, he’d been so afraid for so long, ever since he held Jason’s broken body in his arms. Ever since he buried his son.
It felt the same. But he had mastered that fear long ago, so this would not control him now. He had to be better.
Frowning at Diana, he leaned forward.
“Explain.” She’d probably assumed that he’d made the same connection. He probably should have.
There was just a brief flash of surprise on her face before her expression softened, her hand gentling over his.
“Jason was the one who told you of these Anti Ecto Acts, was he not?” She asked pointedly, a dark brow arching delicately.
Bruce about managed a grunt of agreement, his jaw clenched too tightly to speak. She waited a moment longer, watching his face, and then sighed.
“Then is it not likely that either he has told Balance of these Acts, or that Balance was the one that told him?”
Constantine jerked and got halfway through a bellowed curse before she cut him off with a glare. Her tone brooked no argument as she continued with a firm, frosted patience.
“Jason is a principled young man, even if not of the exact principles you prefer. Either he has warned you because he believes we have time to fix this, or because the King would prefer we handle it,” she said bluntly.
It sounded so simple, put like that. Far too simple. Bruce shook his head, leaning in.
“We can’t know for sure-”
“Batman.” There was nothing harsh in her tone. Nothing so overtly aggressive as the glare she kept giving Constantine. Just a calm, cool statement that sucked the air from his lungs.
The weight of her own mantle, the Amazon princess who would one day be Queen. Not his friend Diana; Wonder Woman.
Once she was sure he wouldn’t continue, she fixed him with a sapphire stare.
“Do you believe Jason Todd would condone the end of the world?” She asked simply, and that at least was that plain.
“No.” It didn’t even require thought; whatever he feared ever since his son took his first life, Bruce knew that.
Jason was fundamentally a good boy. So kind, so giving, ironically he had been the most well adjusted boy Bruce had ever given the mantle to.
Which was what made what he’d become so painful. It was everything he never should have been.
Wonder Woman nodded as if that solved all the rest.
“And yet you called the meeting, not him. He has known for several days already and did nothing to alert any of us. Therefore, he does not believe this is an urgent threat.”
It sounded good, and Bruce almost believed it before Constantine snorted.
“Yeah, great, except the kid has no fuckin’ clue what he’s dealing with. Didn’t even know he’d been fuckin’ marked or that sellin’ his fuckin’ service was the dumbest fuckin’ thing he coulda done,” he grumbled and Bruce’s heart fell.
Wonder Woman was not so easily swayed. She raised an eyebrow slowly at the magician.
“And could those protective marks have been placed on Jason against his will?” She asked pointedly, like she knew the first thing about magic.
Constantine hesitated. Frowned a little, thinking hard. Finally he threw both hands in the air and leaned back in his chair, scrubbing them down his face.
“Technically, yes, alright? But I can’t think of a damn reason why they’d bother. Like I told the old Bat, it’s technically a good thing; I couldn’t even get a basic diagnostic spell off, he’s completely fuckin’ magic proof an’ anythin’ that can read that ward will run like fuck.”
Something in Bruce’s chest flickered hopefully. Wonder Woman nodded firmly, then redirected her stare to him.
“Then until we have reason not to, we assume that Jason Todd has control of this situation. He has assigned us to deal with these Acts, either before his king discovers them or on their behalf. You, Batman, will defer to his experience along with that of our experts,” she declared with all the ringing command she was capable of.
It chafed. And yet… he could hear the echo of Harley’s words in her voice.
What if Jason was wrong? It was the kind of thing he always thought about, the kind of thing he couldn’t stop thinking about. The kind of thing that had the Batman able to stand and go toe to toe with gods.
But what if Jason was right? What if Harley, Diana, Constantine were right, and his usual measures would spell disaster?
He had a dozen contingency plans that any member of the League could use to take him down. He was painfully aware that the first one, the one he’d already shown to Superman and Wonder Woman, only had two words in it.
Diana’s Judgement.
She hadn’t technically invoked it yet. Had never bothered asking exactly what he meant by it; she wasn’t one to back down from hard subjects, which meant she’d also never bothered hiding how little she thought of his contingency plans.
His League-specific ones, anyway. She liked the ones he had for the rogues and various end of the world crises.
It meant moments like this, where she would give him her honest, simple judgement and reign him in.
(Technically it also meant that he trusted her to decide when she needed to snap his neck, but Martian Manhunter always looked at him with disappointment when he thought about that side too much.)
Looking back to her face, he managed to meet her eyes and nod once. It went against every instinct he had, every year of experience and loss, but…
If he couldn’t do things he didn’t like, he’d never have become Batman.
**
Head spinning with a plethora of new information, bag of ecto candies in hand, Jason deliberately slowed down to let Danny precede him out of Frostbite’s office.
That little suspicion had been growing, kindling the more they discussed halfa anatomy and bonds, and honestly? Yes, he had been using it as an excuse to think about something other than his own problems.
Danny seemed not to notice, disappearing past the doorway as Jason looked up at Frostbite. Figured fuck it; he didn’t know how much time he had. Best be blunt.
“You’re Danny’s ghost parent, aren’t you?” He asked, knowing from the yeti’s face as he did that he was right.
The way it froze for just a moment, eyes flicking to the door Danny had just left through. Then the smile that spread, knowing and secretive as he bent down for the first time to put his face on Jason’s level.
“He takes such pleasure in believing he does not have one; the Great One values his independence highly, and his history with parental figures is… complex. It can be our secret, yes?” The yeti winked.
Jason hesitated for a moment, thinking back to all he knew about Danny’s home life. It wasn’t actually all that much; Danny probably actually knew more about Jason’s, after the last week.
That wasn’t just a rarity, it was practically unheard of for any of the former Robins, and Jason knew exactly how Dick and Harley would react to that information.
They’d accuse him of growth. Gross. They couldn’t be told.
And yeah, maybe Jason had a bit of a personal understanding of why Danny wouldn’t want an overabundance of parental figures around. Their situations weren’t exactly the same, not really, but Jason knew enough verses of the song.
All teen heroes tended to have certain things in common, the biggest of which was whatever parental figure they had failing to protect them. Failing to keep them from the darkness, forcing a kid to take on a mantle and burdens that they never should have.
He’d wanted to pound Bruce’s bones to pulp for putting another kid in his cape. Wound up nearly pounding Tim’s instead, however the pit and Tallia had twisted things to make that seem like the same thing.
And Danny hadn’t just picked up the mantle of Teen Hero. He’d picked up a crown, a whole realm of responsibilities and rulership over the dead.
Personally, Jason thought Danny was missing out on an easy dodge of king duties by not finding his ghost parent; Clockwork was his regent but still apparently bothered him for work.
A parent ruling until the child was of age was behind most of the most brutal regicides in any monarchic system; the dead had to know about it.
But that’d mean Clockwork bothering Frostbite at all hours, possibly. Or Clockwork finding new excuses to keep checking on a crown prince Jason had already seen was a handful.
Yeah, he could see why no one really challenged Danny’s assertion that he didn’t have a ghost parent.
Jason spared a moment wondering about his own again.
He knew better than to hope, he really did. Catherine Todd deserved much better than an afterlife of watching over his many mistakes. If there was any justice to death, she’d moved straight past the realms and into the most perfect of paradises.
He liked to think she’d be proud of him. Of the work he’d done, the good he’d spread through the Alley even if it was on the end of a gun.
So long as it wasn’t any form of al Ghul whatsoever, Jason was pretty sure he could handle any other ghost parent the multiverse could throw at him.
Danny’s head poked back around the corner, grinning in a very worried way between the two of them.
“Everything okay back here?” He asked with some of the worst overhyped cheer Jason had ever heard.
Alright, maybe Danny would actually also have been a problem for ghost parent. Because Jason thought he was hot. Because he was an awful mother hen even as a friend.
Jason raised his bag of ecto candies.
“Just checking how many of these I can safely have in a day,” he said innocently, and kinda hoped Danny didn’t actually feel the wash of Frostbite’s approval as the yeti straightened.
That would give the game away.
“They are not a substitute for sleep or nutrition for your human form,” Frostbite told him, as if that was what they’d been talking about.
Jason sighed heavily, doing his best impression of Tim being handed decaf.
“Listen, a guy can hope?”
“Oh you’re not gonna win that one,” Danny snickered, brightening with the distraction and all but skipping in to take Jason’s arm, “let’s scram before he gets the powerpoints.”
Frostbite gave them a cheerful wave on the way out the door, and Jason managed a mostly sincere smile as Danny began regaling him on some of his teenaged attempts to persuade Frostbite to let him give up sleep for finals week.
Yeah, he might add the Fenton parents to the butt-kicking list. Below the ghosts, obviously, for whom butt-kicking was a social courtesy.
But, y’know. If he ever got the chance to have a quiet word about taking care of your damn kids.
———————
And here we have Part 1! Imma just yeet it up so you can all get started while I edit Part 2, because again, this is a Girthy One without an easier breakpoint 👀
I’ll still try and get Part 2 done tonight, but I’ve kept y’all waiting long enough
Tag List: @welcometosasakiworld @kyrianclawraith @someonebored0100 @stealingyourbones @starkcravingmad @frostedthroughghost @akikkobara @rainbowbunny0159 @littlefeather345 @violet-catsarelife @serasvictoria02 @wolfjackle @blacksea21090 @secretdestinywerewolf @anime-hipster-the-amazing @undead-essence @skitscratched @blackroserelina @snoodly-boop @mayoota-blog @xysidhe @little-apricot-the-writer @chaoticmistake @the-legal-shipper @bun-fish @aroranorth-west @demon-cat-goes-woof f @perfectwastelandcreation @onyxlightdragon @larks-and-katydids @peachesandcreamfemboy @jesus-camp-the-sequel @may-rbi @mothman-the-mothman87 @viyatrix @stargirl1331 @idfk-man10 @thedepressedrobin @skulld3mort-1fan @rootsmudge @ravenshadow17 @cankoking @phantom-dc @mentalcarebear @magic-pincushion @redamancyardor @lyra689 @itsparadoxlacuna @alcorbearson @asphyxia778 8 @why-must-i-be-like-this @tkiesai i @greenpyrowolf @frivolous-pastel @honeysuckletook @adorkable1291
Part Two:
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thewertsearch · 5 days
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Mega-Giga Ask Comp: Part 3
@manorinthewoods asked: I'll be honest, I wrote the Locked Tomb ask having not read the Locked Tomb series. I literally only know the starting and ending strokes of the first book. That being said, I do like the half-soul-Sollux idea, and it works pretty well with the Locked Tomb's general theme of Lyctorhood, and how knotted the whole situation with Alecto, Gideon, and Harrow ends up being. (What is even going on with Nona) ~LOSS (4/13/24) @manorinthewoods asked: You know, if you hadn't already read Gideon the Ninth, I'd have recommended it as a good second liveblog. It really does fit your preferred sort of mystery. From all the clues presented, you could probably hit very close to the ultimate solution to the Lyctoral puzzle - as close as anybody could be expected to get. ~LOSS (25/4/24) @manorinthewoods asked: The Locked Tomb's prose is pretty good. On occasion, it happens to chime with a sound of 'Homestuck', but I only recall that twice so far in my reading. I like the skelebook. ~LOSS (27/4/24)
Once again, I'm glad my hidden agenda - convincing this blog's entire readership to check out The Locked Tomb - is bearing fruit.
I agree! TLT does occasionally give Homestuck vibes, presumably because its author is a fan. For the most part, though, its prose style is all its own.
Anonymous asked: Reference to American culture: the sphere of Jade's home dropping and the timer that preceded it are references to the Times Square Ball, an annual event held every New Year's Eve. A giant ball descends down a pole at 11:59 PM and reaches the bottom at 12:00 AM, January 1. I believe that you can figure out why the reference was included in the first place. Anonymous asked: btw the gamzee page was released on new years. ‘the miracle of a new beginning’ is the new year and the lab dropping is supposed to be a reference to the ball dropping in times square
Some America Lore here that I wasn't aware of.
I was wondering exactly what Gamzee meant by 'a new beginning'. Maybe Alternia practices the tradition as well.
@omnilew asked: the way you speculate and go indepth into sburbs features and how it affects the kids, made a silly headcanon that your kidsona is reading the comic while playing out their session though this is mainly because "Eventually, we were bound to cross a couple of wires that should never have been allowed to touch" kinda references chargerkind
I like it! Maybe my 'sonas have access to a more in-depth version of Rose's walkthrough, and are adding their own commentary in quiet moments during their own adventures.
@manorinthewoods asked: Your excitement over the resurrection of Dream Jade gave me a form of suspenseful mirth. Seeing how happy you were at her resurrection, while also knowing exactly what came of it, is perhaps textbook dramatic irony. If only you'd read a panel further… ~LOSS (26/4/24)
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She looked so happy to be back, too! That certainly didn't last long.
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She was prototyped with a smiling corpse, though. Maybe that was just her 'default' expression, and it vanished as soon as her actual feelings asserted themselves.
@thetinygladiator asked: 'I hadn’t really thought about Sally’s ectobiological parent - but now that I am, I think the funniest possible option is that it’s her landlady.' okay but i just gotta say… this immediately makes me think about how that relates to the house-building aspect. Like, with the giant tower, are they gonna charge the Imps for rent? That might work, honestly. Where do imps even live? Bet they don't have good AC or Wi-Fi, lemme tell ya.
300 GRIST/DAY NO CRUXTRUDER NO ALCHEMY NO PETS
@manorinthewoods submitted: How many computers would you have on your person if you were playing Sburb? Jade recommends at least 5. I say I'd have a laptop, phone, a spare of both of those, and computer gloves if I need to compute really fast. Also spare gloves. Speaking of the phone - is it possible for people to put phones in their pockets? Given Karkat (and a minor gag in Act 6), we can assume that it's difficult or uncommon to carry items without using the Sylladex - or maybe it's just tied to your dexterity, and you have to hold things gingerly to avoid captchaloguing them when you pick them up. On the other hand, there's no issues with accidentally storing something you've unstored and are using - so how does the Sylladex actually work? Do people just instinctively store their items once they're done using them? Is it difficult to avoid storing something you aren't using anymore? Can you stuff phones in pockets? If not, then why develop a PDA in the first place? Given the Sylladex, it should be much more commercially viable to make a tablet. ~LOSS (24/4/24)
Since Karkat can physically pick up a book, you can probably pocket your gear - although maybe there's a difference between holding an object and trying to add it to a physical 'inventory'. Either way, the issue is easily circumvented by employing wearable tech, like the kids do.
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As depicted in my alchemy binge, my primary computing device would be the Pocket Holodex, which can remote into any computer in my sylladex.
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In addition, my Modular Ring shirt is also a computer, which can presumably be augmented by adding extra mod1ules over time. I'd probably also captchalogue every computer in my apartment, of which I currently have six.
I'd be exploring the Medium with a minimum of seven computers, plus one pseudo-computer, plus a phone. Jade would certainly approve.
@iris-in-the-dark-world asked: the tension in act 5 act 2 is perfect, i love it. maybe even moreso on rereads, the foreshadowing and generally ominous vibes always get to me @heliotropopause asked: You're getting to the part where the comic really starts hitting its stride. This'll be fun.
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The ever-present countdown certainly adds a degree of urgency to the situation.
I'm really liking the pacing of this current act, as things slowly progress towards some critical point - one which, for now, is still shrouded in mystery.
Anonymous asked: Forwarding another ask for the person with no account ~DJ: Eridan's deal seems to be based on Wizardry Herbert - a proto-Homestuck work by Hussie. A parody of Harry Potter dealing with whether magic is real. [] But Methods of Rationality began in February 2010, so "Harry Potter but obsessed with science" might have also been an intentional reference to that.-RM @heliotropopause asked: Eridan Ampora and the Methods of Rationality sure is an idea for a fanfic. He'd be so bad at it.
Eridan would be an extremely funny choice for a ratfic protagonist. He'd be so smarmy about it - and thus, a perfect addition to their ranks.
What would the definitive Homestuck ratfic be called, do you think? I think Tool-Assisted Speedrun would be a decent choice.
@killedthekat asked: An interesting thing about doomed timelines is how they serve to prevent stable loop metagaming. As a basic example, in a typical stable time loop scenario, if you observe yourself unharmed in the future, you can throw yourself into high danger high reward situations and know that probability will twist itself into whatever improbable knot it needs to do to keep you safe. But in homestuck if you lean too hard on predestination you just get shunted into a doomed timeline for your trouble.
It's true. Timehopping just isn't fun in Homestuck, as you're constantly walking a tightrope, desperately trying to stay in the one timeline that might not get you killed.
It's a good way to prevent time-travelers from becoming overpowered - something which is probably necessary for a comic which makes such heavy use of the concept.
Anonymous asked: Now that you're updating while HS^2 is, I've realised that while I'm barely keeping up with ^2, I just yelled "Oh! Upd8!" out loud when I checked your blog, so to me? You're the real continuation of Homestuck
What an honor!
For veterans of the comic, this blog is more Homestuck: Revisited than Homestuck 2. As a woman who would much rather watch video essays about old Simpsons episodes than new seasons of the show, I completely understand why some would prefer the latter.
@manorinthewoods asked: I've since finished Worm. I think Sophia's by far the best Vriska candidate. Lisa, Amy, and Colin are less so, I think. ~LOSS (21/4/24)
Oh, nice, you got all the way through it! Worm is an absolute behemoth, and I know a lot of people who started it, and gave up halfway through.
Sophia is likely the closest match to Vriska in personality. I agree with an earlier comment, though, that the most Vriska-like character in terms of audience reaction is probably Amy.
Anonymous asked: Cannot believe someone would propose a Homestuck/Locked Tomb scenario and leave Gamzee as part of a spare pairing, when the Homestuck fic The Serendipity Gospels, written by the author of The Locked Tomb, stars Gamzee and Terezi in the proto-necromancer/cavalier dynamic. Absolutely appropriate to have Gamzee as Ninth though, since his facepaint is the direct ancestor to Harrow's. Gamzee and Terezi is such a funny pairing to go with. I'm certainly looking forward to checking out The Serendipity Gospels when I'm done with the comic - both to compare it to Homestuck and to the Locked Tomb.
As am I. Apparently it was left unfinished - but considering how long this liveblog is taking, maybe Taz will have updated by the time I'm done!
Wishful thinking, of course, but I live in hope.
@bladekindeyewear submitted:
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(I started Dragon's Dogma 2 a couple weeks ago and did my best to a Gideon Nav pawn (NPC ally), facepaint and two-hander and all, and the "Jaunty Straightforward" voice selection has been EXTREMELY distracting / game-improving because her voice and attitude chatting beside my player all the time sound almost straight out of the audiobook.)
Damn, you really captured her essence. Pawn is a very fitting title for her, too :(
@manorinthewoods asked: On the topic of blood color names - Blue through Purple were renamed in Hiveswap. Originally, Vriska was Cerulean, Equius was Blue, and Gamzee was Indigo - which I like more than their modern incarnations. I think 'bronze' might also be a Hiveswap thing, although I won't dispute it, and rust might have been renamed to burgundy? Maybe burgundy is a synonym. Idk. ~LOSS (4/13/24)
I think I prefer the likes of olive, indigo and bronze over more generic terms like green, blue and brown, which would quickly lead to confusion.
Vriska's blood, for example, is also a shade of blue, so it would be a little strange if blue blood was an official term, but it didn't apply to her.
@mxamericanblue asked:hi i have been absolutely BINGING your live blog rn and i gotta just get this out this is so so cool watching you react has been giving me so much joy, i don't have a computer so i can't really experience homestuck again casually when i want to but watching you read it and react and THEORIZE??? omg your theories have been so fuckin killer it's given me a new appreciation for Hussie as a story teller and how spectacular this comic truly was thank you for this, i've been having a grand ol' time, and it's all cuz of u
Thank you! I feel like I've been theorizing a lot less since I came back from my hiatus, mostly because the comic hasn't introduced many big mysteries recently - aside, of course, from Aradia's unexplained explosion.
(Pre-posting update: Since first drafting this ask, my statement above is no longer true, as Gamzee has been revealed as Homestuck's most important character. What the actual fuck.)
@lilietsblog asked: re fifth house aradia: she's an archeolodist :)
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Oh, shit, you're right.
Maybe she'd be in more danger from the Lyctor than I thought.
@ben-guy asked: Vriska's ascension to god-tier is, in my personal opinion, one of the most visually striking scenes in all of Homestuck. Also, one of the panels you didn't include (which is understandable w/ Homestuck lol. Sacrifices for the sake of brevity) specifically the one where she has him write "[…] plenty of time for that l8r" above her head… Think about the position she would have had to move him to to write that.
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…jesus, Vriska. You can't just do that!
@martinkhall asked: "What is treasure but a fortune, waiting to be found?" Or stolen if you're the THIEF of Light.
Son of a bitch. That's why she's a pirate, isn't it?
Because a Thief of Light is someone who steals fortunes!
@manorinthewoods asked: Eidolons. A species purpose-built to play Sburb, while breaking every mechanic you can solely with biology. Eidolons don't sleep, and live in a hive mind. Their psychologies are very poor at recognising distinct things, with Eidolons seeing the world more in terms of a blur of colors and shapes. They thus have a very difficult time understanding Classes and Aspects, never mind that their mythology never involved deities, and they never invented chess, or games of any sort… ~LOSS (15/4/24)
The idea of a species engineered from the ground up to be Players does raise the interesting question of whether there was a first species to play Sburb.
Of course, with all the time-loops we've been working with, there might not have been a first species - unless Sburb was 'created' in some sort of metatemporal space, 'before' any loops were put in place.
@manorinthewoods submitted: You are very good at analysing Vriska's psyche. Vriska's character was executed very well, I think, and I would hate her with a burning passion platonically but to a high degree if I knew her in real life. She's just… really horrible. She's a horrible person. And half her shtick is that she keeps evading consequences in spite of that. All of her mental torture of Tavros, for instance, ends in her becoming the most powerful player in the session. What sort of justice is that, Terezi? ~LOSS (15/4/24)
She hasn't entirely evaded consequences, but it's undeniable that none of the consequences she's experienced have actually stopped her from doing the things she does.
She's lost an arm, an eye, she's been beaten up, she's bled to death, and literally none of it has caused her to let up on Tavros, even a little. Letting up on Tavros, to her, would be worse than any physical harm, because it would be an attack on her worldview.
@sanctferum asked: "Has anything come of this since, actually? I haven’t heard anything about this new comic – although I do scroll in the opposite direction any time I see a reference to Homestuck, so I guess it makes sense that I wouldn’t." - The general feel I've gotten from the community has been largely positive re: the new Homestuck 2 updates, which have indeed been happening. It's being updated once per month for now, so a lot slower going than non-hiatused OG Homestuck. But I'm enjoying it so far!
Once a month seems more sustainable than Hussie's original barely-believable pace for the comic. With Hussie no longer at the helm, expecting daily panels seems like a pretty big ask - most people don't have the time, money or energy do what Hussie did.
Anonymous asked: I don't know if you read UTDR fanfiction, but this Tavros and Vriska situation reminds me a little bit of Flowey Is Not A Good Life Coach. she's trying to push him to his limits and torture him into being someone who will kill, and he just won't. say, what's your read on comparing Flowey : Vriska?
Flowey does what he does because he's lost his emotions, but Vriska does what she does because she's consumed by her emotions.
If anything, Flowey has more in common with Aradia. They're both time-travelers whose ability to feel is somewhat compromised.
Anonymous asked: WHATTTTTT HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN BACK???????? I THOUGHT YOU WERE STILL ON A LONG ASS HIATUS BUT I JUST JOW DISCOVERED TUMBLR ISNT GIVING ME POST NOTIFICATIONS FOR YOU ANYMORE EVEN THOUGH I HAVE IT TURNED ON FOR YOU AND IT WORKS FOR OTHER BLOGS???? WHAT THE HELL. IM GOING INSANE.
This has happened before - but before, I was also removed from Tumblr's search function, which doesn't seem to be the case this time.
Is anyone else having issues with Wertsearch post notifications?
@elkian asked: So has anyone mentioned the godhood joke yet? (The God Tiers costumes have hoods. God Hoods. Badum-tish)
LOL, I did miss that.
Anonymous asked: Fun Homestuck fact! After writing Karkat, someone brought up that the writer of the 'Programming For [Expletive]s' book sounded a lot like Karkat. Andrew responded by telling them to imagine that it was actually written in all caps, basically canonizing that the 'Programming For [Expletive]s' book was written by Karkat. At least, I think that's how that went? ~LOSS (28/2/23)
And it could be any Karkat, too. Maybe one of the Karkats from a doomed timeline actually learned to code from Sollux, and became a famous ~ATH developer.
@morganwick asked: So with conversation 8=8 apparently taking place in the immediate aftermath of Rose destroying her gate (even technically during Descend), and Rose's attitude towards Kanaya in the part of it that we see, does that change how much you think her attitude in their previous conversations reflects her genuine mental state?
Oh yeah, no, I’m pretty sure she was genuinely in a bad mood here. Not really so much because of Kanaya, and I think the anger directed at Kanaya specifically was inauthentic, but the bad mood itself was real. She'd recently been injected with several months of traumatic memories, after all.
@manorinthewoods asked: That panel, of John in Vriska's 'fabulous outfit', is actually pretty neat, because you can see from the proportions how young John really is. He's small, not even fully a teenager yet, and he's been thrown into this chaotic world of humans and trolls, quadrants, violence and danger. Everyone in the game must be scared, in some degree, but none of them ever show it. It makes you wonder just how strong Skaia's children really are. ~LOSS (29/4/23)
Seriously. In what universe are 13-year-olds the people most qualified to make universes? Sburb has some very funny ideas about the optimal way it should be played.
I suppose this is something that had to be true, though, for Homestuck to be the coming-of-age story that Hussie wanted it to be.
Anonymous asked: My interpretation has always been that "the Blind Prophets" are actually just Terezi herself, in a time loop-y/predestined way. She's blind, her class is Seer, AKA prophet, and those are her numerals. Also, on an unrelated note, but to weigh in on your last ask, according to Latin conventions, the plural of lusus is lusus. Does Homestuck follow those conventions? Well…
Or, since there are two Seers in Homestuck, maybe they’re Terezi and Rose. She’s a Light Player, so a blinding would be suitably ironic.
Anonymous asked: re: captchalogue codes and the states of objects: it takes a relatively small change in the physical arrangement of atoms and whatnot to turn a ghost dad poster into, say, a little monsters poster, but the two have a relatively large difference between their conceptual nature. on the other hand, it would take a relatively large rearrangement of atoms to make the slime pogo ride be anything other than a slime pogo ride. perhaps this makes the former change state more easily than the latter? alternatively, maybe the captcha system just knows that all it would really take to make the slime pogo ride stop being covered in oil is soap and water and it's happy to do that on its own, but paper is harder to clean so it wants you to jump through more hoops for that one new question: if john had used his posters for alchemy before he was able to see their defacement, would the resultant objects also be beclowned? evidence seems to suggest that players with unawakened dream selves Will draw on their walls in their sleep and not see it until Ready, so there not being mechanisms in place to deal with that seems less likely than the alternative to me, but especially considering people who aren't them Can see the drawings, how??? would that even??? work??? what would've happened if john had done alchemy with the arms cake. i think it would be funny to see that
I think he’d still get the clown posters.
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The kids keep accidentally making magic items, so It's clearly possible for someone to alchemize an object with properties they didn't foresee. Therefore, I think John would make what appears, to him, to be a normal poster - but Rose would still see it as it truly is.
Anonymous asked: any thoughts on what the horrorterrors are? beyond their (admittedly vague) intentions?
I think they’re a sign of the wider cosmology beyond Sburb - and, more specifically, a sign that there is a wider cosmology beyond Sburb.
I don't know if we'll necessarily get more expansion on them than we've already had, because their whole shtick is that they're unknowable. Needless to say, I'd love to be proven wrong.
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altijdjouwnaantje · 8 months
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So y'all know about the ADHD audicity of "well I've never done this, how hard can it be?" right? Well, my undiagnosed mom just went through another iteration of that one.
My mom is an artisan and an artist who started sewing 44 years ago by refashioning my fathers worn-out trousers into tiny baby overalls for my big brother. By necessity because money was tight at the time.
Her skills have grown and grown with clothes and fancy dress for us four kids. By the time I was in elementary school she designed and produced many costumes for a local production of Hendrik Ibsen's Peer Gynt.
So when Raf started talking about his wish to make giants in the Flemish tradition, of course my mom found herself recruited to take on the project.
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Last year, she made the stunning costume and bosoms for giantess farmer Anna Serafina De Groote ("Fientje"). The first head that was commisioned for this giantess did not turn out like the beautiful young farmer on the brief, but more like an elderly stroke victim... (Not pictured)
My mom stated she thought she'd be able to do a better job, so naturally she got recruited to do just that.
Over the course of the past year my mom made three giant shoulder pieces, two giant heads, two pairs of giant hands, one giant bonnet and the entire costume for her second giant, Emiel Antoon De Creeser ("Miele"/"Miel")
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Of course, because she's extra, she did soooo many calculations to have pretty accurate anatomical proportions. And since last year, the measurements provided for the carrying structure were off, this year, she lengthened Fientje's sleeves, added lace trim over the seamline and added gorgeous cuffs:
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The hands are made from shapewear and batting and they also have thick metal wiring in the fingers, which allow the giants to hold things like this basket:
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Yesterday was the parade and the giants danced!
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After the parade, Miele donned an extra piece of clothing:
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A giant version of the vests for volunteers who help keep the neighbourhood clean by picking up litter.
That lettering? Again, my mum calculated how big the logo would need to be to be proportioned equally with a regular size vest, scaled up each individual letter, and drew them all on with permanent marker.
Ivago is the local waste collection and recycling municipality, and they're the "godparents" for this new giant.
So yeah. From sewing overalls for a baby over carnaval costumes and dressing four kids and costuming theatrical productions to making and dressing a 3.5m giant. That's ADHD audacity.
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The Dare
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PART 2!
TW: Masturbation, smut, language, angst.
SUMMARY: A dare during a sleepover leads you to learn just how badly Rafe wants you…
WORD COUNT:
The Dare
“You can’t be serious…” The words left your lips behind a heavy scoff that led Sarah and Kiara’s eyes to connect in silent confirmation before looking back to you with shared agreement. 
“It’s only fair with the picture you made me send to Topper-” Sarah explained. 
“AND the text you had me send to John B-” Kiara added, “I’m just glad he didn’t answer…” She muttered, half relieved and half disappointed. 
“This is different! You’re dating Top! And Kie and John B just have to get a bit of a push-Technically I did you favors-” You tried to convince your supposed friends to alter their minds, but found the expressions of pride and amusement spread across their faces to inform you that this would be futile. 
“Consider this karma…” Kie lifted her drink as if to cheers to her own words before finishing the contents of her makeshift cocktail, courtesy of stolen liquor from Tannyhill’s kitchen under the allowance of a lack of parental supervision. 
“Besides…I remember a time when you LIKED Rafe-” Kie’s eyes flashed in surprise as this was a detail she couldn’t have possibly have known as her and Sarah had only been friends for a few months but appeared as close as sisters, a friendship recently sweetened by the reconnection you made with the middle Cameron after drifting apart following Junior year. 
“I did not!” You lied, your cheeks betraying your attempts to convince them otherwise. In truth, Rafe Cameron always had your thighs pressing together with the way his voice said your name and his full lips pulled to a grin when he noticed your eyes making note of him. 
“It’s only fair…” Kie teased as you now shot up to your feet in objection. 
“I don’t want to play anymore-”
“Oh come on…” Sarah whined, “You don’t get to get out of it so easily…Not after we followed through on OUR dares…”
“Then I change mine to truth-” You spoke quickly, not caring to hide the pout from your lips. 
“Didn’t realize we were playing with Wheezie-” Sarah taunted in reference to a version of ‘truth or dare’ with her sister where the latter was excluded. 
“If you don’t do this, I am ABSOLUTELY telling Rafe that you used to have a thing for him.” Kie interjected as you scowled at her. 
“Is it REALLY worth him holding that over your head over just stealing his phone?” Sarah added, the peer pressure making you anxious. 
“Why do you even want it? I mean…what if he’s using it or something…” You continued to try and convince them of an alternative torment, but they were too convinced of their aforementioned decision. 
“The fact he hasn’t been down her ‘perving’ on you or Kie in the last hour tells me he’s definitely asleep. And I have my own reasons for wanting it…so…” Sarah and Kie stared at you with growing excitement to see you squirm behind a series of grunts and groans. 
“Five minutes and an impromptu 007 mission or a lifetime of Rafe knowing you used to have a thing for him…Every time you come over having to hear him tell Topper and Kelce how you missed your chance with him…Every dinner him finding an excuse to remind you-” Your mind darted at the thought of him teasing you with this, a detail you couldn’t fathom having to live through as you could barely handle the touchless banter you shared now. 
“Okay!” But this is blackmail-'' You glared before reluctantly crossing into the corridor responsible for holding the ascension of the staircase leading to the bedrooms. The second your hand wrapped around the railing, you considered returning to them to say you couldn’t find it or he was awake. But an even larger portion of you was desperate to have an excuse to be close to him. He made this a necessity by the way he greeted you with his usual teasing and his eyes kept on you until he climbed those very stairs a few hours prior. It was maddening-but also enough to commit to this action. 
By the time you reached the top of the steps, having turned back when hearing Kie and Sarah chuckle at your expense, you were now a mess of tremors and anxiety. It would only take approximately ten steps before you’d reach his door and you were horrified on how you would go about it. 
What if he wasn’t asleep? What would you say that would make your presence believable at two in the morning?
“Three minutes-” Sarah called as if to remind you of your mission as you turned back to shush her, ultimately deciding that the lesser of two evils would have to work as being appealing enough to convince you forward. Pressing your ear to his door, you weren’t able to hear anything close to a conscious Rafe, who was usually in motion one way or another. Validated enough for your entry, you twisted the knob slowly before finding a dark room set before you, relief relaxing your nerves for a time as you realized he had been asleep. 
You were thankful for the darkness for many reasons, but mostly for it making it impossible to appreciate his figure which had beckoned you since he had begun to take care of himself in the last few years. But the thought of this gratefulness left you to think of the muscles in question; specifically how they would collect you in passion and pull you around as he saw fit. But with this existing only as a fantasy, you were able to return your focus rather quickly to your task. 
A deep groan stilled you as the springs from the bed gave away the adjustment as you lowered behind the rival side of the bed as you began to conjure a thousand varied explanations from throwing Sarah under the bus or claiming you simply walked into the wrong room. But before you could begin either or, you heard it again. Only this time, it was spoken in the accompaniment of a deep breath. 
“Fuck…” He groaned, your eyes widening as you deduced quickly that he certainly wasn’t asleep. Instead, he had been portraying the most decadent moans, keeping your gaze locked onto him as you were able to make out the motions of self pleasure embedded in the darkness before you. 
“Walking around in those shorts…thinkin’ you can get away with that shit…” He moaned, the sound of self pleasure breaking the silence of your deafening heartbeat as you kept yourself concealed at the side of the bed, remaining magnetized to the way his body moved to his ecstasy, you were further rooted by his words.
“Yeah-you like this cock, baby?” Your skin became impossibly hot, the words continuing to narrate his thoughts aloud that you had only imagined when you were alone in your own room with ideas synonymous to these. It was the very guttural groans and vulgar mentions that left you pulsating and in need of a release all your own, confusing and guilting you in equal measure of just how distracting it had been. 
“You’ve wanted this a long time, yeah? Go ahead-take it…Like THIS” Half of your body tightened at the drawl of his words lengthened from his unsteady breathing before the fear of being found kept you motionless but still in analysis of him. 
“SO GOOD-I knew you’d feel so good…” He now spoke behind clenched teeth, the illumination of his phone pushed you further into your weak cover as he continued to moan and groan between the slick sounds of self gratification. 
Quickening pumps making your mouth dry from anticipation, you were able to view the motivation behind his desire. You imagined the type of girl he would go for, immediately comparing yourself to the painful belief you were nothing more than something to torture for him. But it wasn’t a prissy girl who spent way too much money on deceptive beauty enhancers that the likes of his friends would be vying for. 
It was you. 
Photos you posted without a second thought, ignorant at how it had clearly affected him. 
“Shit!” His body began to move wildly before you, the bed buckling beneath him as he quickened his inability to control his reaction to his thoughts of you. 
“I can’t wait any more…Gotta cum in that pussy gotta-gotta-fuck!” With that final breath before his release, Rafe expelled your name, verifying once and for all that he held the same lustful thoughts you had possessed since you’d known him. Those once innocent butterflies now exchanged for scorching embers drifting well beyond your stomach and now settled between your thighs. 
“Shit…” He breathed out, rising to the side of the bed, feet made flat with the hardwood supporting his entire room, all while you prayed to remain unseen. 
Whether it was the haze of a recent orgasm, the darkness of the room, or the fact that he was simply THAT careless, he hadn’t noticed your body’s attempt to hide in the side of the bed as he disappeared into the connected bathroom. But it was this ignorance that allowed you to move to your feet and set for your exit. 
For a moment, you looked back at his phone, considering if you should try for it to ensure that Sarah and Kiara kept your crush a secret. But not wanting to risk having to explain yourself in your current state; soaked nearly down to your kenes, panting, and with a blush you were certain he’d still be able to make out despite the sygian setting of your surroundings, you left it at your back and turned to the door. 
Your heart stopped. 
The sudden appearance of a large hand set against the frame of the door keeping it closed led your eyes to run up the flexed muscle, until you met with Rafe’s lust blown eyes illuminated by the sliver of moonlight allowed by the bathroom door falling open from his exit. 
“And where do you think you’re going?” His voice, low with lust, had your lips part in a quick attempt to make up some sort of an excuse. But instead, you were left swallowing hard at the way he now carried his second hand to pin your back against the door. 
“I-I-Sarah’s waiting for me…” You hoped this would be enough to deter whatever thoughts he intended to make a reality, but you also knew Rafe was sporadic and reckless-making up part of his charm, and so you knew if you were in his line of focus, he wouldn’t stop until he got what he wanted. And he ALWAYS got what he wanted…
“No…You’re not going anywhere, baby…”
Part 2?
Taglist: @hopebaker @iovdrew @penny4yourthoughts
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First off, I wanna say that I mean no disrespect to the artists who worked on Hazbin Hotel. It’s just that I’ve been seeing people make redesigns of Hazbin characters, and though I don’t usually participate in stuff like this (it seems fun, and you are all incredibly talented. I just feel kinda bad tinkering with someone else’s work like this), the show made me frustrated, and frustrated induced brain-vomit started sloshing around in my skull so noisily that it’s been keeping me up. And, well, I had to get it out somehow.
So…here ya go, I guess. It’s nothing crazy or new. It’s just a few disgustingly rough ideas for this very specific version of Charlie that I kept seeing in my head. They’re far from polished or anything, and they’re definitely missing some key details because I’ve been hyper-fixating on trying to get the face right lol. I might make a full body illustration later, but I have commitment issues so who knows how far this’ll go. That is to say, don’t expect any more of this or the other characters unless 1) my brain decides to torment me with more literal demons or 2) I, by some miracle, become a more productive person. Plus, Tumblr’s a new thing for me, and I don’t know what I’m doing with this yet other than posting art and then disappearing for years. Seriously, you have no idea. It’s a wonder that I posted for a second time.
Anyway, the direction of this design is pretty obvious. I went with the lamb/goat motif because I liked the idea of inverted/parallel symbolism. I was toying with a “wolf in sheep’s clothing” concept where they appear to be a lamb in this form but actually shift into a more wolf-like dragon sorta thing when prompted. Their wardrobe is supposed to be an extension of the innocent lamb deception as the ruffles and looseness are meant to be kinda reminiscent of fluff while communicating a sense of privilege (a white untainted by the grit of Hell… something that probably wouldn’t last long). I was also inspired by white goth and catholic goth aesthetics (I blame Ethel Cain) as well as those insanely beautiful ball-jointed dolls. I don’t know if I captured that well (to be honest, the more I look at those digital renditions, the more I hate them). I considered adding a pair of spectacles coz I thought it was cute lol, and because I thought it could be a way for them to try and seem more human.
If I were doing a rewrite (which I have ideas for, but I should probably focus on my actual original characters instead) then:
1. They would be agender and androgynous (I’d go the Good Omens route and make most angels/non-human entities largely genderless as gender is a human construction, one that most angels wouldn’t really concern themselves with)
2. They would be kinda elitist and naive but still sweet
3. Their intentions would not be entirely insincere, but they would not be acting without selfish goals
4. They would be an eldritch abomination
5. There would be possible exploration of their role as an antichrist as well as basically being a tool of war for their papa’s self-gratification
6. Their pops would suck
7. More horror
8. Like, it wouldn’t not be funny…but horror’s my genre so….
9. They would not suck at fighting, but death is traumatizing and so is being the cause of it (squeamish)
10. That being said, could make friends with Death??
And that’s all I feel like writing. Hopefully I update this lol
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bravelyartbooking · 2 months
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little known bravely default series facts
I noticed a couple of comments about the Bravely Series on Twitter last night that made me realize some folks didn't know some of what I consider common knowledge of the series (like why the ba'al theme wasn't on the Bravely Default soundtrack).
Contains spoilers for all three games. Also this got longer than I thought, thanks in advance if you make it to the end and find something you didn't know! I'm sure most of this seems obvious to long timefans.
Here is a compilation of what I know that may or may not be common knowledge to newcomers?
I had to split this into three parts because of Tumblr's character limit and I'm honestly too tired to fix the numbering so:
First part:
The version of Bravely Default that was received in the West is the second version of the original Bravely Default game, released in Japan in Dec 2013. This version, called "Bravely Default: For the Sequel" came with a massive (80ish) amount of improvements based on player feedback, such as: additional sidequests for the Asterisk Holders in later parts of the game, difficulty and encounter settings sliders, battle speed, redrawing the cities, and the Bravely Second mechanic itself.
This means some tie-ins to Bravely Second didn't exist with the first version - the Adventurer being green when you first encounter her, the end AR movie with Magnolia, the Ba'als and their theme. All this was added later.
The Japanese version does include different languages, including English, so if you can't understand Japanese you can still easily play this version of the game on a hacked or Japanese 3DS!
The first release in Oct 2012 was called "Bravely Default: Flying Fairy" and a lot of JP folks still use BDFF to refer to it.
While BDFTS and BD: Where the Fairy Flies (the Western release) are functionally identical, some changes between JP and West include but are not limited to:
Costumes were censored (such as the Vampire having a bodysuit under the belts and the Bravo Bikini)
The ages of Agnes, Tiz, Edea, Alternis and the Venus sisters was bumped up 3 years in their journal entries (or anyone whose age is written out instead of written as numerals).
Japan had merchandise that had codes for the extra costumes. The extra costumes made it into the Western version of the released game for in-game currency with the exception of Tiz's Dimensional Officer, Edea's Military Cadet, Agnes's Bravo Bunny, and Ringabel's Wakoku Warrior.
You can summon friends from Japanese versions and those costumes will be visible EXCEPT the Bravo Bunny is censored (the cut-out is covered) and Wakoku Warrior is replaced with Freelancer.
These codes expired after like 2 years.
There are 4 novels called "Pocketbook of R" (2 books) and "Pocketbook of R Second" (2 books). I'm including all the translation information I currently have.
Pocketbook of R is a first person journal from Ringabel in what is commonly dubbed "Infinity World" between the events of Bravely Default and Bravely Second.
Ellen translated the first book here (note that she did largely 'summary' translations as she hated the writing in the novel).
Bill translated most of the second book (page 70+) here. (Bill's native language is French and while I did some proofreading, there may be some clunkiness of translating from a third language into a fourth.)
Ellen started translating the third book here. This and the fourth book take place at the same time as Second, for the most part.
No solid English translations of the fourth book currently exist though I know the gist of it thanks to an older Tumblr fan who gave me the rundown. I'm sure RNT will make a video.
Second Part:
There are an additional 2 novels that are based on two of the spinoff games.
One is "Bravely Default - 200 years later" based on Praying Brage that was released in the Japanese Bravely Second collector's edition ONLY.
One is "Bravely Default Fairy's Effect - Rinne's Miracle" based on Fairy's Effect that was released as a standalone novel.
Very little information has been released about both. One day we'll have a summary/translation.
There are (currently) 4 spinoff games, all currently shut down.
Praying Brage (Nov 2012 - Apr 2017) was a browser game and was based on the premise of Edea going 200 years into the future to save Agnes. RedNovaTyrant has a great video on it here!
Bravely Archive: D's Report (Jan 2015 - Oct 2017) was a mobile game that centered around an alternate/future Luxendarc with crystal memories and a new main character who is revealed to be Deneb
It released in Australia for about 6 months in 2018
Bravely Archive Fairy's Effect (Mar 2017 - Aug 2020) was a mobile game released after Bravely Second that took place simultaneously 8000 years in the future and between the events of Bravely Default 1 and Bravely Second. There's a lot of lore for both games in FE that can be seen in various videos on the internet (such as info on the Kaiser/Glanz Empire and Agnes's transition into Pope, Ominas having a role in saving Mahzer and the newborn Edea from Eternia during Braev's coup), but Bill translated some of the remaining website summary here.
Bravely Default Brilliant Lights (Jan 2022 - Feb 2023) was a crossover mobile game in a new world that combined Luxendarc and Excillant characters and setting. It lasted 13 months and I archived as much video as I could on Youtube but as of now, first person "reports" can be found here that summarize each board of each story.
It explains why "First Born" Ba'al was a thing in Bravely Second.
An 'offline' version was released but pulled from the app stores in July 2023.
There are 2 audio dramas for the first game!
First one is called "Festival of Reunion" and a translation of all four tracks can be found here.
Second one is called something like "Bracelets of Eternity" and so far no English translation seems to exist (though I know the gist of the first track).
The Ba'al theme was released with the first audio drama.
There's a Luxendarc / Linked Horizons concert that took place in Japan in 2013, you can find video of it on Youtube and Amazon Prime Video, and they released music CDs specific to it.
Square released an X-mas Collections Music CD that has wintery remixes of some of the Bravely Default music.
There is a Bravely Default 4 volume manga that's a retelling of the first game. Red made a video about it here. You can find scans online and most of the translations were done by Ellen.
There is also a manga anthology that serves to tie together Bravely Default and Bravely Second (released around the same time as Second, if not earlier). Red also made a video about it here. Ellen scanslated the third story in the anthology, I reuploaded it here after her imgur account got nuked.
Bravely Second was changed between the JP and Western releases based on feedback from Japanese players:
Sidequests were streamlined so that players could get a "good ending" based on their decision even if they chose the opposite Asterisk after the time reset
The Black Mage/ Ranger sidequest had its endings completely rewritten, as the Japanese version ends with either Bahamut being eaten or the wounded NPC dying depending on who you sided with.
Some costumes that were DLC were added to be bought with in-game currency (same as Default)
Fort Lune was made more easily available instead of being locked behind a SE Member account (along with some other things like costumes).
Some of the writing was tweaked as there were complaints about the memey/modern references/references to other media like Dragonball.
Aimee/Hawkeye costume was changed (there was also minor censoring of other costumes, like adding a bra to Ranger for Magnolia).
The fox companion was moved to different locations instead of sitting next to the Adventurer, lessening some complaints of "mood whiplash" between tent scenes and serious story events.
Some JP preorder-exclusive weapons were excluded (as far as I can tell, some weapons were just very hard to get).
The controversial apology for Bravely Second was in regard to the large amount of negative feedback the team received from the JP fans in regard to Second (though some Western fans also had a lot of negative things to say, it was largely only because of the costume censorship to the point at least one mod was released).
Third Part:
Magnolia and Pope!Agnes had large plushie prototypes made of them that were never released.
There's an official MMD figure of Agnes from Second.
2 types of large Edea plushies were released, one with closed eyes and one with open eyes.
Only 200 of the open-eyed Edeas were made/released but now there apparently there's only 199 in existence because I tried to buy one and the seller told me she was damaged in by a wild animal getting into the warehouse, rip Edea...
Large plushies were released of Edea, Ringabel, Agnes, and Tiz based on their Default appearance. Tiz's plush had an unfortunate hair style in the prototype that they changed in the final version. Images of this bowl cut have been lost forever.
Gloria got a smaller plushie that's in the JP SE Store.
A set of even smaller Default 1 cast plushies, among other things, are in the 10th anniversary set.
The European Collector's Edition of Bravely Default Where the Fairy Flies included this unfortunate figure of Agnes.
The Bravely Second artbook has three versions:
Original Japanese version, scans of it exist online
Bravely Second (Western) collectors edition version, which removed several images - sketches/concept art of Agnes tied up in the ribbon and a couple of images of Geist as well. This version had translated captions but any text on the images was not translated.
The fully English translated version which also restores the images removed from the CE.
Sales data has indicated that the Bravely Series reached 3 mil in Nov 2021. No word on 4 mil or 5 mil, but maybe we'll find out this year?
Bravely Default 1 (all versions) hit 1 million in July 2014 (21 months from initial BDFF release)
Bravely Second (all versions) hit 700k in April 2017 (2 years from BSEL release)
Bravely Default II (all versions) hit 1 mil in Dec 2021 (10 months from BDII release)
So much JP only merch was released through the years, especially in the years before Second.
Some through the SE Cafe collab with BDII
Some through Artnia (here's Default and Second's collabs)
10th anniversary stores with Hakabanogarou in person and online (now closed)
10th anniversary collab with Super Groupies for watches, Agnes's pendant, a stole with Airy's pendant.
Stuff on the SE JP store
Limited edition rubber stamp sets for Default and Second
Linked Horizon branded BD merch was released with the concert like pins.
Magnolia figure.
Official D's Journal
The messaging Line app released Bravely Default/Bravely Second stickers drawn by a fanartist made official artist named Satokivi! I think they were like 3 dollars per set.
She also drew the mini series of 4koma called "Praying for Miko" for Praying Brage
Physical versions of these stickers are on the JP SE Store.
There's a vinyl record
Pop-up Parade figurines of the main four were released in 2023 for the 10th anniversary of Bravely Default.
Bravely Default II had two demos, the first one specifically made difficult to get feedback from the fans. They implemented some feedback to change the final version of the game (but not everything). This was the first time they have asked for feedback from the West instead of just Japan.
Team Asano has released Lunar New Year art every year except 2016 with Bravely characters and the zodiac animal
They do Christmas cards every year, and it seems that this year they included a special card for a special fan with an extra character in the dragon art. If you know you know.
The woman on the cover of Bravely Default II isn't Gloria.
I'm sure there's a lot more I'm forgetting, and this isn't even including the Bravely Default original concepts that were revealed in a booklet in the 10th anniversary exhibitions.
If you made it to the end, I applaud you, and I hope there was at least one or two things you didn't know!
Also one day I'll finish the video on the English fan survey.
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crescencestudio · 1 month
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๋࣭⭑ Devlog #39 | 3.27.24 ๋࣭⭑
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Happy March!!
This devlog is going to be a bit shorter, but...... it's for Exciting Reasons that I will share later in the post. heh.....heh.....HEH.....
Let's jump in ^^
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This month, writing was mostly dedicated to Etza's route! We have officially entered the Developmental Editing part of Etza's route, which is super exciting!!!
There were parts of Etza's route I wasn't completely satisfied with, so I spent a lot of this month tinkering, adding, fleshing out, editing, etc. for their route. I'm happier with it now compared to where it was when we entered this month, and especially with Wudgey's help, I'm excited for Etza to get the love they deserve!
I had a small, optional goal for myself to start Kuna'a's route, but honestly, I felt like between work with the Enhanced Demo, Etza's edits, and just generally feeling a bit tired after being Super Productive in January and February, I decided to give myself a break. That being said, I'm relatively confident I'll be getting started with Kuna'a's route next month, and I'm excited to dive into their route (and the Fae routes in general, teehee!).
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Vui is on the very last of the BGs I need from him..... So I am in mourning.......
Kidding but not kidding. Vui has done an amazing job of putting the backgrounds for Alaris together! They're absolutely stunning, and by the time we get to the next devlog, he will have finished ALL of the BGs for Alaris! It's been about a year and a half in the making, which is kinda crazy to think we have been together for this long (and working on the full game for this long), but it's definitely A Moment.
In celebration of him reaching this milestone, I wanted to highlight some of the BGs he's made for the game! The theme is early morning; some of these BGs are in the demo, and some are in the full game hehe. You'll have to guess the context of the mysterious full game BGs :')
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Sneak Peek: BG Showcase, morning strolls around the world of Alaris
I also thought it's been a while since I showcased a CG here. While I don't play on showcasing many of the full game CGs on public devlogs (I do show them on my Patreon!), I wanted to show a little snippet of this specific CG.
Why, you ask? Well, for the OGs, you might remember I showed a sketch of the CG during the Alaris Kickstarter---whenever the hell THAT THING happened.
I finished rendering it now that I got the BG for it, so I wanted to show a peek of that sketch that I showed oh-so-many-years ago.
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Sneak Peek: Kayn Full Route CG I want to lick him
Generally for art progress, I've been working on CGs as well as some promotional materials, which I'll be getting to in the next section \o/
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Now for the Exciting News!!!!
I have two bits of exciting news. The first is...
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Sneak Peek: Selection Screen for Alpha/Beta Access (OUUUUGGGGGHHHHH)
I STARTED CODING KAYN'S ROUTE!!!! The first act is already "done" and ready for beta access. And I'm hoping to finish the other two acts within the next couple of weeks. It is crazy to finally be able to code some of the full game routes. Even if they're not at the "final version" or early access stage, it is Extremely Rewarding to finally experience the scripts I've been writing in the game!!! With the CGs.... Extended Screens..... Just seeing the script with visual assets and not just a Google Doc is SOOOOO FSEIKLFJSEILE
Sneak Peek: Chapter Character Cards (AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA)
The second piece of Exciting News is that I have a release date for the Enhanced Demo. YEEEEAAAAAA. It's finally happening!!! Please stay tuned over the next couple of days...... An Exciting Announcement is on its way...................................
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I didn't do much market research this month. If I'm being honest, I actually struggled a little bit this month with like...... burnout and workaholism guilt. I wanted to take a break after getting the demo ready for public release, but I just couldn't bring myself to fully rest. It felt like there was so much to do (not just with Alaris, but also with real world/work obligations) and all these looming deadlines was starting to get to me.
I'm hoping next month because I'll actually be Releasing the demo (oops, sneak peek of general release date teehee!), I'll be able to feel like I can take a break. But it also sucks a bit that I feel like I have to Earn It. I think with Alaris being a Kickstarter project, I want to get the game in your hands as soon as possible, but of course it's not to anyone's benefit if I burn myself out in the process and end up with either a worser project or taking even longer to finish it.
I did...... start Stardew Valley again since it is the ultimate dissociation/break game for me. So far it's been working! But we'll see how it continues <3
LOOK AT MY FARM!!!
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Should I marry Sebastian or Elliot.
Anyways, hope you all have a great rest of your month, and I'll talk to you Very Soon with an Exciting Announcement! <3
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constantlywriting1 · 2 years
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Good Friends (Matt Murdock x F! Reader)
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Summary: You give Matt a surprise visit at the Nelson&Murdock Lawfirm and he can't control himself at the thought of being with you again.
Warnings: Smut (18+ minors dni), fingering, and unprotected sex
Word Count: 2471
Matt sat in his office with a diligent tilt in his brows. He had been working on collecting some evidence for the same case for about 72 hours now, and the constant chatter from Foggy and Karen was not helping. He tried to zone in on his brail files but it was no use. The smell of Chinese food had entered his senses and the idea of finally eating something besides saltine crackers and lukewarm coffee made his stomach growl. He put down the files and listened happily as Foggy shouted over to him. 
“Foods here.” 
Matt was at the small table they used for group lunch breaks in a matter of seconds. He smiled wider as the smell of General Xao’s chicken filled his nostrils. 
“How’s the investigation going?” Karen teased, adding a mocking tone to make it obvious that she thought Matt was overworking himself. 
“You think it’s funny, but trust me on this one. I could flip this case upside down.” He replied, only half serious. 
Foggy waved his hand wildly in the air, between Matt and Karen as the three of them sat down with their meals. “No business during our lunch break.” His voice was muffled by the spring roll he had already shoved in his mouth. 
Matt and Karen laughed before digging into their rice and lo mein. The table was quiet for a while as the group ate their meals, but the silence didn’t last long as Foggy began to talk about an indie rock band whose music he had recently stumbled across online. He told his friends about the strange lyrics they wrote, but how he somehow enjoyed the music. This story made Karen laugh loudly, making Matt smile softly while chewing his food. Their breaks usually went like this, but today something felt slightly different to Matt. 
He could smell something familiar in the air. A mixture of sea salt and a familiar skin. He practically choked on a piece of chicken when he heard your footsteps. A familiar rhythm pacing toward the office. It couldn’t be you, there was absolutely no way you were in Hell’s Kitchen, He thought to himself. 
But you were in Hell’s Kitchen, and you were on your way to visit the famous Nelson&Murdock Lawfirm to see your two closest friends from college. It had been a while since you saw Foggy and Matt. After graduating from Columbia you moved to California searching for more high-profile clientele. You were able to make small trips to New York for the first couple of years but eventually, you and your old friends were too busy to make cross country visits for anything other than business. Luckily one of your clients was involved in a case in the city and wouldn’t accept anyone but you as their lawyer, giving you the perfect excuse to finally visit Matt. 
You walked through the front doors of the office and watched as everyone’s heads turned in your direction. Matt could hear the tight fabric of your skirt rubbing against your skin. 
“I’m looking for Nelson and Murdock.” you teased. 
Foggy practically jumped out of his chair. “What are you doing here.” He smiled before giving you a tight hug. 
“I was in the area.” You said very nonchalantly. 
The sound of your voice sent shivers down Matt’s spine. It had been far too long since he heard you so clearly. He didn’t enjoy the version of your voice that often sounded glitched and broken up over his cell phone. He missed hearing you take in a breath between stretched-out sentences and the melody that always seemed to accompany your tone. Now you were in front of him and he could actually sense you nearby. Your smell and the sound of your fluttering heart deep within your chest. 
Slowly, Matt stood up from his chair and made his way up to you. 
“You look great,” he said with a smirk. 
You couldn’t help but laugh at the humor you had once enjoyed so much. You wrapped your arms around his neck as his arms met your waist and suddenly your feet were off the ground. He spun you in a small circle causing both of you to giggle like children. 
“They were really good friends in college.” Foggy whispered to Karen, who seemed extremely confused. 
When Matt finally put you down you were both out of breath from the laughing and spinning. “This is Karen, she works with me and Foggy.” He said between breaths. 
You finally looked over at Karen who almost seemed disgusted at the open display of affection. “It’s nice to meet you, Karen, I’m sorry for the interruption this is the only place I knew I could find them.”
Karen nodded politely before putting her hand out to be shaken. “It’s nice to meet you too.” She mumbled. You quickly took her hand in yours and shook it warmly. 
Matt could tell the smile on your face was now being forced in place by a series of muscles. He could hear your heart pick up speed and the clenching of your jaw. You were jealous of Karen, or at the least angry with her presence. It made him snicker to himself. 
As time went on and introductions passed Foggy took Karen back to the break room, allowing you and Matt to sneak over to his office for a private conversation. You watched as the blind man closed his door behind the two of you. 
“This is unexpected,” he said with that smirk you found far too hard to forget. 
“I like surprises, plus I haven’t heard from you in a while. I needed to make sure you didn’t forget about me.” You replied. 
You were both sitting now, Matt behind his desk and you on the other side, staring down the man you once thought you couldn’t live a day without. 
“How could I forget about you?” He questioned, almost sounding genuine. 
You rolled your eyes before getting out of your seat and walking a few steps toward the office window, which faced directly toward the break room. “I should’ve known you had a thing for blondes.” you grimaced. 
Matt couldn’t help but laugh at your blatant jealousy. “It’s not like that between us.” He tried to reassure you. 
“Oh really? Because I bet she’s asking Foggy what he thinks we’re talking about right now.” You said, instantly coming up with a mischievous plan. 
“That doesn’t matter-” Matt started, but he immediately cut himself off when he heard you close the blinds to his office. “Why did you do that?” He sighed. 
“I gave her something to talk about.” You snickered devilishly. 
“You’ve always been a trouble maker.” He leaned back in his chair and listened as you made your way to his side of the desk and leaned patiently on the wooden fixture across from him. 
“I missed you.” You practically whispered. Matt used to love it when you made your voice sound like that. That tone was always accompanied by a growing wetness between your thighs, and he wondered if there was any difference between then and now. 
“Did you really?” he replied smugly before placing a hand on your knee. 
You let your eyes travel down to Matt’s crotch, immediately noticing the growing bulge underneath his trousers. Without hesitation you placed your hand over his, pulling it further and further between your legs until it was lost under your skirt. 
Matt felt himself completely harden as his thumb brushed over the damp fabric of your underwear. “We shouldn’t be doing this.” He sounded breathless. 
“Okay,” you said plainly before taking your hand away from his, but Matt didn’t move. He could feel the eager smile that planted itself on your lips as he tried hard to stop himself from bending you over the table. 
“You’re terrible.” He said hungrily. 
You lightly grabbed his tie, pulling him up so that the two of you stood face to face. You felt his thumb begin to trace light circles around your folds as you looked down at his lips. 
“I know,” you replied in the whisper he enjoyed so deeply. 
Matt’s reaction was visceral. He pressed his lips against yours, forcing you onto your back as he pushed your skirt up to your waist. You couldn’t help but smile as he placed his right hand lightly over your throat and let his left hand pull your panties down to your ankles. Slowly he separated your lips and whispered lowly into your ear. 
“Open your mouth.” 
You did as you were told and let out a soft moan as he slipped two of his fingers into your mouth. You covered them in your saliva and sucked them lightly as if they were his cock. He let out a few shuddered breaths before taking his fingers completely out of your mouth and bringing them down to your soaking wet folds. 
Slowly he slid his fingers into you and listened as you let out a quiet moan. As he picked up speed and tightened his grip around your neck the moans became louder, until he was sure that if he continued on, Foggy would be unable to come up with more excuses for the two of you. He took his hand off of your throat and placed it firmly over your mouth. This turned you on even more and suddenly he couldn’t hold himself back anymore. 
You forced yourself to sit up, noticing the absence of his digits and trying to figure out what he had done. It didn’t take long for you to get the hint as he unzipped his pants to reveal his, already glistening, cock. Your mouth immediately began to water as you imagined your lips wrapped around him. 
“Get on your back.” He demanded, and you did so willingly. That wasn’t even the correct term for it. You were beyond willing, excited even,  to have Matt inside of you again. Off the record, it was the reason you came back to New York. Your time in California had made one thing painfully clear, nobody could fuck you like Matt Murdock. 
You felt his tip travel up and down your lips before he smoothly fit his entire member inside of you. You took in a quick gasp arching your back and nearly forcing your head off the other end of the desk. When you straightened yourself out you could now see Matt on top of you. His tie dangling over you as he let you adjust to his size. 
“You have to be quiet, okay?” His voice was painfully low and it took everything inside of you not to cum that very second. 
You managed to give him a quick nod before pulling him down to your level and giving him a sloppy kiss. He gladly reciprocated, letting his tongue roll over yours as your lips smacked together. Suddenly you couldn’t bring yourself to keep up the kissing, as Matt started to thrust himself into you, causing ripples of pleasure to pulse throughout your body. You wanted to scream out his name but the thought of being interrupted stopped you from producing anything but a whimper. 
You dug your nails so deep into his white dress shirt you were afraid it would rip under your fingers. Matt let himself groan softly into the crook of your neck as he continued filling every inch of your insides. You loved the feeling of him and it was clear to you now that Matt had missed it as much as you. 
Suddenly you came up with another devious plan. You decided to push your luck and see how far you could make Matt go before you both reached your release. “You got soft while I was gone?” You asked, trying hard to stay composed. 
Matt was too caught up in the feeling of you to fully register what you meant. You watched as he lifted his head so that it was directly above yours. “What?” he questioned, his brain fogged with lust and his senses completely overstimulated. 
“You used to fuck me harder.” You replied with an absolutely devilish grin. 
Matt immediately knew what you were getting at. He put both of his hands at your hips and began to buck into you wildly. You quickly grabbed onto the back of the desk as his force pushed your head over the edge, giving you a perfect view of the door. You couldn’t help the sounds that escaped your lips as he seemed to get deeper and deeper with every move he made. Just as you were about to burst Matt stopped abruptly before a soft knock sounded off on the other side of the door. 
“Hey Matt, lunch break’s almost over,” Foggy announced. 
“Okay, I’ll be out in a minute.” He replied, still deep inside of you. 
You looked up at Matt who was clearly listening intently for the sound of Foggy walking away. Once he deemed his partner was far enough he got right back to work, continuously hitting your sweet spot until finally, you screamed out as you unraveled beneath him. And with nowhere for him to go he came quickly after, coating your walls with his warmth. 
Slowly you caught your breath and managed to hoist yourself up and over the edge of the desk. Matt was smiling uncontrollably. You watched as he wiped the sweat off of his brow before pulling his pants back up. 
“I think they may have heard me.” you giggled. Matt could only laugh at your feigned innocence as he listened to you pull back on your underwear and soak them in a mixture of his and your juices. 
“How long are you staying for?” He panted. 
“I have a trial in the city so I’ll probably be here for a while, or at least I’ll be back and forth more often.” You replied while attempting to flatten your hair in the reflection of the office window. 
“So… do you think we could meet up again, maybe for dinner?” He was walking toward you now and by the time you turned around, he was mear inches away from you. 
“Sure, but definitely not here, your co-workers are gonna hate me.” You chuckled, adjusting your skirt so that it was placed nicely back down at your hips. 
“Agreed.” He chuckled and gave you a light peck. 
You smiled against his lips before opening the door and making your way out of the office. 
Foggy watched you leave and slowly turned back toward Karen, who he knew was staring. “Yeah, they were really good friends.” He mumbled, feeling embarrassed to be associated with two of his college friends who clearly just fucked in the other room. 
“I’m sure they are,” Karen replied with an uncomfortable smile.
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Hi! I was just wondering who's your favorite phantom actor?
Can be from any Poto play, or movie, or anything really.
I'm really curious!
This and similar questions have been popping up so much for me in the last week lol
I like to be extremely specific so I will give you a few of my favourites
I have been meaning to re-examine my favourites for a while now
So my favourite overall, my number one, my blorbo, the phantom closest to my heart is always going to be Gerard Butler. Say what you want about his singing, but ain't no other phantom ever done Pleading Eyes (tm) like that man.
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For stage Phantoms the one who has a hold on my mind that just will not let go is Tim Martin Gleason. I love a tall phantom. I love that in the title song he does not order Christine to sing for him, he asks her. He conveys, with his intonation, that he asks for the honour of having her sing for him. I love how expressive he is. This man made so many choices.
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Vocally I think the best singer that has ever played the phantom is John Owen Jones. But I think my favourite phantom Vocally is Tomas Ambt Kofod, because he--more than ANY other Phantom I have heard, sounds like Erik. His voice is remarkable in its smoothness and delicacy, but also very powerful.
He's also so sensual and gentle. He loves to administer loving touches and caresses to his Christine.
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His final lair is also devastating
The Phantom actor I think I respect most is Ethan Freeman. This man has such a dedication to this character and to the book specifically. He refused to read Phantom by Susan Kay because he didn't want an apocryphal version of the character to influence his interpretation, which he specified modeled off of Leroux's Erik, adding touches pulled directly from the novel such as kissing (or almost kissing) the hem of Christine's robe during "Stranger Than You Dreamt It", as Erik kisses the hem of her dress in the book.
Seen here in the West End in 1995 with Jill Washington:
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And here, in Essen, 11 years later with Anne Görner:
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It seems that over time he evolved this moment to the point that he appears to abandon the thought before he brings it close to his lips--probably thinking he's not even worthy of touching her vestments.
He's got an almost faerie-goblin quality to his interpretation. Like he's just scuttled out of the Black Forest. He also leans into the idea of Erik-as-Magician
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He's not afraid to be sensual either, though.
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I think the most emotional phantom is Earl Carpenter. One of the first full boots I ever watched was Earl Carpenter with Rachel Barrel. His Music of the Night changed my brain chemistry forever. The gentleness! The vulnerability! The vacillation between confidence and fragility!!
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The way he would jostle Christine a little when he caught her, his face a picture of panicked concern!
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Though I think his interpretation of Erik as (for want of a better word) asexual is a little wacky (considering the text), it strangely works in favour of Erik's particular brand of sensuality, and it paired particularly well with Rachel's timid and apprehensive interpretation of Christine (which I generally dislike--here, though). And his singing has only improved with maturity. The raw emotion of his All I Ask of You (Rooftop Reprise) in his 2023 run is shattering. Absolutely shattering.
My favourite feral Phantom is without a doubt Scott Davies. If you ever want to see the most unhinged "Let these freaks be together" e/c show you've ever seen you have GOT to watch Scott Davies with Meredith Braun. Ethan Freeman's got the Goblin King energy and Anthony Crivello has the Sewer Gremlin vibe, but if you ever want a Phantom with a real primal streak, you can do no better than long-standing West End understudy Scott Davies:
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This guy tackled the role with a ferocity and an audacity that you don't generally find outside of Russian productions.
His Phantom hands? Oh Lordy!
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And the best part is that Meredith's Christine was picking up EVERYTHING he was laying down. Her Christine is just as mad, just as feral, just as unhinged. And especially paired with such a hearty goodfellow Raoul as Matthew Cammelle--Raoul would have done well to gtfo of there. He was NOT prepared to handle this lmao.
And then there's Ted Keegan. Who for me will always be the Phantom that got away. If I had just done a little more research before--just three months into my poto obsession--booking my tickets to see phantom before it closed on Broadway, I might have had the transcendent experience of seeing Ted Keegan live. As it was, I had no idea he was even still playing the phantom, and wound up with Ben Crawford instead.
And I would be remiss if I finished this list without naming Thomas James O'Leary. Like Ethan Freeman, O'Leary leans into Erik's ghostly persona, with a magician's touch. I think he took a lot of inspiration from Lon Chaney's Phantom (note the position of his hands here).
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His "Sing for me~" is one of my all time favourite line readings and got a very embarrassing reaction out of me when I first heard it.
And then, as if that wasn't enough, there was the moan.
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desertdollranch · 1 year
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Earlier this month, American Girl re-released a whole lot of long-retired stuff from Kit Kittredge’s collection. 
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Kit herself never actually went anywhere. There was just nothing to buy for her. Doll, book, and that was it. But it’s the 20′s now, and AG is slowly turning the focus back to the historical characters. They’ve finally acknowledged that Kit is an icon and deserves to have the nice things that we all so desperately want to give her.
I was looking at the new stuff on the Wiki because I was curious to see if there were any changes made to anything. It’s part of the “homework” I do for the purposes of doll blogging. While doing that, I noticed that the page for each product mentions how much each item originally cost, alongside what it costs now. 
For example: Kit’s school outfit.
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This was first sold for $22 when it was released in 2000, along with the first half of Kit’s debut collection. Now they’re charging $38 for it, an increase of $16 or 72%. I thought that sounded a little excessive, even if 2000 really and truly was more than twenty years ago and inflation has gone wild since the pandemic began three years ago.
So I ran the numbers through the inflation calculator operated by the U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics. 
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Look at that. It’s basically spot on. $22 in 2000, adjusted for inflation, is equivalent to $38.23 in 2023. I’ve been proven wrong.
I did the same calculation for her birthday dress and her pajamas, and those were both pretty much the same, since they were and still are similar in cost to the school outfit. 
Now for her cute little scooter, made from a box of California oranges.
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This was a later addition to her collection, coming along in 2006 for the price of $24. In 2023 it is now being sold for $50, a $26 or 108% increase. Let’s see how that tracks when adjusted for inflation. 
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Ooof. $24 in 2006 should only be $35.70 in today’s money, or $14.30 less than what it’s actually being sold for. So if this one feels a little overpriced, then it probably is, assuming that the materials and quality are the same. Both versions are made of faux wood, which means that the recently skyrocketing price of wood won’t affect this. Maybe there’s another increased cost somewhere that I’m not aware of. Or maybe AG has added a small nostalgia tax, a sort of “buy it from us or pay big bucks to someone selling it secondhand” reminder.
Another accessory that was brought back was Kit’s school lunch.
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This set includes her metal lunchbox, an embroidered napkin, a cheese sandwich, an oatmeal raisin cookie, apple slices, and for some reason.... three whole entire raw carrots. (There’s nothing wrong with carrots, but like. When’s the last time you’ve even seen an adult eat three whole carrots for lunch. Carrots are huge.)
Anyway. It was sold for $16 when it was released in 2000, and now they’re selling it for $36, a $20 or 125% increase.
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$16 in 2000 would be equivalent to $27.80, so her lunch set is overpriced by $8.20, assuming the cost of materials/labor have risen proportionally. 
And finally, Grace the dog. Named for her distinct lack of grace and adorable clumsiness. Sold for $16 when she was released with the second half of Kit’s debut collection. Now selling for $28 which is an increase of $12 or 75%.
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A 75% increase is very similar to Kit’s school outfit selling at a $72% increase, so my guess was that this is going to be a more reasonable price hike.
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Adjusted for inflation, $16 in 2001 is now equivalent to $27.30, so Grace is in fact underpriced by 70 cents! Personally I think AG charges a bit too much for all of their doll pets, but that’s just me.
All of this was really surprising to me. Inflation happens so quietly in everyday life. It’s only been really noticeable in the last three years, when it seems like everything has shot up in price. 
The inflation calculator goes all the way back to 1913. Now if you really want to see what those small changes look like after 90 years, check out how much a $150 doll like Kit herself would have cost in 1932, when her stories began: 
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You’d only need $6.71 in your pocket to bring Kit home. Imagine that. 
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