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#i'll also post the silly thing too in a moment
sanaexus · 11 hours
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social's as bachira's girlfriend
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-liked by kuniisuke, chigi.who and 117.4k others
yourusername: i caught the l-o-v-e
tagged: megubachi
isaichii: yeah and i caught the f-l-u ↳yourusername: don't be so dramatic
isaichii: PHOTO CREDITS WOULD BE NICE SINCE I WENT OUT 2 IN THE NIGHT TO TAKE THIS STUPID PICTURE ↳mikka.kaiser: it's actually 2 in the morning ↳isaichii: shut 😭the😭actual😭fuck😭up😭 ↳yourusername: mb bro
yourusername: the photographer (and part time bachira lover) behind this amazing beautiful picture was none other than isagi yoichi ↳yourusername: that enough photo credit for you? ↳isaichii: yes also tfym part time bachira lover that's weird ↳megubachi: loving me is weird? ☹ ↳isaichii: nO NO NO WDYM OFC NOT I'M A FULL TIME BACHIRA LOVER ↳megubachi: I LOVE YOU TOO ↳yourusername: sigh
megubachi: we're so cute ↳yourusername: you're so cute ↳megubachi: you got me giggling blushing kicking my feet curling my toes twirling my hair 😝 ↳hiyori: what the actual
reo.miikage: did this mf fr take a wine glass outside to take this picture ↳megubachi: I DIDN'T MEAN TO ↳reo.miikage: how do you accidently take a wine glass outside ↳yourusername: he's js a girl 🎀🎀 ↳reo.miikage: why did i even ask
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-liked by kunii.suke, chigi.who and 132.6k others
yourusername: meet my boyfriend and my boyfriend's boyfriend
tagged: megubachi, isaichii
isaichii: we're js two bros tfym boyfriend? ↳megubachi: not what u said last night 💔🤬😢 ↳isaichii: sorry baby
karasu_tabito: biggest surprise in this post that you went to the gym w those two ↳yourusername: BYE UR SO RUDE I HOPE U KNOW EITA LIKES ME BETTER ↳karasu_tabito: @/eita.otoya is this true 💔💔 ↳eita.otoya: i'm sorry i didn't want you to find out this way 💔💔 ↳karasu_tabito: wow 💔💔 ↳eita.otoya: WAIT I JS READ HIS COMMENT NO WAIT FR DID Y/N GO TO THE GYM?? ↳yourusername: bye i hate you
nikkoki: who the fuck took the second pic 💀 ↳yourusername: that wasn't me i swear it was @/chigi.who ↳chigi.who: NO BC I WALK INTO FIX MY HAIR AND I SEE THAT WHAT WAS I SUPPOSED TO DO ↳hiyori: WELL U SURE AS FUCK WEREN'T SUPPOSED TO TAKE A PICTURE?? ↳julian.loki: you should have joined them ↳yourusername: BEO??
user1: the way loki came, told chigiri he should have join with isagi and bachira while they were pissing and then left without any further explanation is just such a loki thing to do ↳julian.loki: i'm a man of few words
megubachi: i swear ily ↳isaichii: who? ↳yourusername: who? ↳megubachi: YOU OFC UR SUCH A SILLY LIL GOOF BALL
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-liked by yourusername, isaichii and 142.6k others
megubachi: believe it or not i do love y/n and isagi doesn't always third wheel us
tagged: yourusername
yourusername: SROP ILYSM I'M GONNA KISS YoU ↳megubachi: do it no balls ↳shiidoryu: she would have balls but you keep kicking them ↳hiyori: FOR FUCKS SAKE MATE YOU DON'T NEED TO DESCRIBE SOCCER LIKE THAT ↳mikka.kaiser: FOR GODS (me i am god) SAKE IT ISN'T SOCCER IT'S FUCKING FOOTBALL ↳yourusername: SHUT THE ACTUAL FUCK UP I GOT A POST ALL TO MYSELF AND YALL HAVE TO RUIN IT
nikkoki: i thought this was a y/n appreciation post what's up the the third picture? ↳yourusername: i'll just have to accpet the fact that isagi will always be there ↳megubachi: ily 🥰 ↳yourusername: ihy 🥰
user2: fuck romeo and juilet i want what these bitches have ↳user3: no bc fr both of them seem so happy despite the questionable moments the pictures were taken
rin.itoshi: that outfit ruined my entire halloween party btw ↳user4: WAIT WHAT RIN THROWING A PART?? ↳yourusername: srop it's been like 9 months since then ↳rin.itoshi: and i'll never move on from him twerking in a maid costume. ↳megubachi: I HAVE A GOOD ASS OK STAFU ↳kuniisuke: w h a t .
nagi.seishiro: so the fourth picture is the reason why he couldn't come over to my house the next day ↳yourusername: sorry not sorry
shiidoryu: when's our sleepover y/n 💔💔 ↳yourusername: OMG COME OVER TODAY !! I'LL BRAID UR HAIR !! ↳megubachi: my monster says no ↳yourusername: tell your monster to fuck off ↳megubachi: he didn't like that ↳yourusername: i'm sorry for the bad and for telling him to frick off
user5: context behind the last picture? ↳yourusername: he tried creeping up on me i got scared shitless so i kicked his lower titties, he fell bc it hurt sm i i fell bc i was laughing so much ↳hiyori: did you js call his balls lower tittes ↳yourusername: yes and? ↳kenyu.yukimiya: SAY THAT SHIT W UR CHEST AND ↳reo.miikage: BE YOUR OWN FUCKING BESTFRIEND ↳megubachi: SAY THAT SHIT W UR CHEST ↳megubachi: that fr hurt, the kids inside my balls didn't like it ↳yourusername: well deserved<3
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bye this was so fun to write but i dont rlly feel it was very girlfriend like but it was it is
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mixtercandy · 11 months
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Hii Candy I hope you feel better soon!! <3
awe ty anon <3 things hav been just a bit stressfull for the past 2 days, but i shall stay strong!! (& stay silly)
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pia-nor481 · 5 months
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Max Verstappen NSFW alphabet
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A-Aftercare (what they're like after sex?)
I feel as though he likes to be very sweet and soft so aftercare is very important to him. He's very fond of cuddles and running his hands all over his partner's body, maybe she resting against his chest. He really likes showers together so I think that's really common when at home.
B-Body part (what is their favourite part of theirs and their partner?)
As strange as it sounds I think he really likes his leg (have you seen his thighs and calves? Hot) so I believe he may like thigh riding for that reason. Furthermore, he must really like his girlfriend's thighs, keeping his hand resting on them, slapping them lightly in normal situations. Perhaps fucking her thighs from time to time.
I also think he likes his partner's lips, just so pretty. But also when they're around his cock.
C-Cum (anything to do with cum)
I actually think he likes to cum in a condom. He doesn't like to be messy, so that would help with that. But he would really like to cum in his partner's mouth. However I think he has a soft spot for facials.
D-Dirty secret (just a dirty secret of theirs)
I think, back in the day, he really wanted to have a threesome with Daniel. He never actually asked, but he would still be open to it
E- Experience (how experienced are they)
I think he may actually be very experienced, quite a lot of hook ups too. I'm not sure why I think this but you know. Not to be evil or anything but I think the first few times he would have to be guided a bit.
F- Favourite position
I think a position where he can see her face, so mostly positions where his girlfriend on her back. But I feel as though he would like to hook her legs over his shoulders. Or maybe where she has her legs around his waist and hands on the back of his heads. So things like 'the drop box' and 'counter top'
G- Goofy (how serious are they in the moment)
I think he'd be a lot more serious, even though (off track) he can be a silly, he's a very funny guy. But at the same time I also imagine some very unserious situations- I'll touch more on this in kinks. Over all I think it's 50/50 as his job is very serious all of the time, so he would want something different to that.
H- Hair (how well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes)
He's one of the odd few whose pubic hair is actually lighter. I also feel as though he's lazy with trimming it, I'm not sure why, but he doesn't strike me as someone who shaves/trims every few weeks.
I- Intimacy (how are they during the moment? Romantic? Pleasure driven?)
He definitely likes to be more romantic, it just in his nature to be caring and loving (not to get into daddy issues or anything) so I see him as someone who really wants to pleasure his partner. But of course there are many times where he just wants to cum, whether that be post race or especially post-interview/ media work. (And he deserves it!!!)
J- Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
I don't believe he masturbates very often, if he does then it will be because his partner is not with him, or she just isn't in the mood. (We love a consent king)
I feel like he masturbates mostly in his drivers room tbh, with a locked door ofc. But that's where he needs a quick release
K- Kinks (one or more of their kinks)
Acarophilia- becoming aroused from scratching. This sounds strange however, I think he may have seen a lot of media that expresses "if you've got scratched on your back you've done a good job" so I feel as though it's stemmed from this, and it gives him a sense of pride
Cock worship- he likes praise, give it to him. Both verbally and physically, he doesn't like to be edged though
Snow balling- passing of body fluids from mouth to mouth- but I don't think of it in this context. He likes to make out after giving head, or getting head. Can be kind of linked to a spit kink. At the end of the day he does really enjoy dominance (in all aspects of his life) so this is one of them.
Switch- now, I think he can just about be called a switch, as it is very rare for him to sub. He just likes giving up control every now and then. Mostly in winter and summer breaks from racing. This may link with power/role play, as people who dominate and make a lot of decisions in their day to day lives are like to want to give up control in their sex life to ‘get a break’
Role play- he likes his girlfriend to dress up, his favourite is police woman or nurse. He likes to give her a role that had authority.
L- Location (their favourite place)
I think he might really like hotels as he doesn’t have to clean up any of the mess in the room (he tips real good though) He probably favours more ‘domestic’ places, like the sofa (couch but I’m British so sofa)
Yes he is apart of the mile high club, but he felt as though they needed to be really quiet.
M- Motivation (what gets them going?)
Begging, his girlfriend telling him how desperate she is for him, and that he needs to fuck her, he’s just so pleased with himself, and her, that he can’t help but immediately get hard.
Or just generally getting felt up.
N- No (what turns them off)
Anything actually dangerous. For example asphyxiation- he wouldn’t mind having his hand around her throat, or restricting blood flow to her head for no longer than three seconds, to give that breathless/choking feeling, but he would try to steer away from it.
O- Oral (preference on giving or receiving. Skill)
He loves receiving as much as giving. I see him as a pleasure dom so he loved to eat pussy. But who is he to deny an orgasm from her mouth? I feel like he’s quite confident and capable
P- Pace (Are they fast or slow? Rough or sensual?)
Definitely more slow and sensual as he would really want her to feel how much he loves her. He makes love, he doesn’t fuck. But if you wanted it hardcore he’d be happy to oblige.
Q- Quickie (their opinions on them? How often?)
I don’t think he likes them very much. He’s actually quite patient, and so wants to take his time admiring and giving praise. Ofc he does have quickies here and there, mainly in his drivers room, or if he’s running late but still needs some pleasure.
R- Risk (will they experiment? Do they take risks?)
He won’t try it if he doesn’t think he will like it. His mindset is pretty fixed. However if you were to really explain how much you want it and how good it would make you feel, he would be persuaded. But if he felt genuinely uncomfortable he would definitely say he doesn’t want to do that again. But he’s willing to try a few things.
S- Stamina (how many rounds do they go for?)
Again I think he can last for a long time, just not may rounds. Maybe two in a day. He just can’t cum more than that or he’ll be shooting blanks.
T-Toys (do they own any? Do they use them? On a partner or themself?)
He never used to, but if he found out that she owned a vibrator of some kind he’d really like to see her use it. Then he’d like to use it on her, he wanted to know how different the orgasm felt when he was giving it to her. But I don’t think he’d use many on himself. Maybe a cock ring during a role play or when he’s subbing. He does really warm up to them and is willing to try all different kinds to see what makes her cum fastest or hardest.
U-Unfair (how much do they tease?)
In my mind he hates teasing himself, but he knows a little edging can heighten the orgasm so he would never be apposed to it. However it won’t be a spur of the moment thing, he will need to think about it for a while prior to the sex
V-Volume (how loud are they? What sounds do they make?)
I don’t believe that he is overly loud, very quiet grunts and groans. But he loves to hear his partner, it gives him a sense of pride
W-Wild card (a random headcanon)
A little later into the relationship, where he’s developed a fondness for toys, he though about buying a sex toy advent calendar (he had already bought one before telling her) and he was so excited throughout December as he wondered what was behind the door and how loud her moans would be
X-X-ray (how big are they?)
I think Max is of average length, but he’s very thick. And was very pleased to hear that’s what a lot of women prefer. I think his cock may turn right ever so slightly
Y- Yearning (how high is their sex drive)
I’d say he has a pretty low sex drive, maybe 4/10 he doesn’t see that as a main part of a relationship so he doesn’t think about it as much as people expect
Z-Zzz (how quick do they fall asleep afterwards?)
If he was subbing, he’d fall asleep so quick, defiantly still covered in cum. But if he was dominant, I think it would take a while as he really likes quality time, so he’d like to just talk, whisper sweet nothings, and cuddle for a while, until he gets too hot. (I found that interview so funny)
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Let me know any thoughts you have, I’d love to hear.
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Text
Just Friends (König x F!Reader)
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How to Tell Her You Love Her 3/4 (Word count 4.5 k)
Summary: König is a horny, creepy killing machine obsessed with a shy, kind reader who has a raging knife kink.
Tags/warnings: 🔞 Eventual smut, eventual violence, angst, dark romance, canon divergence. Crack treated seriously. Yandere undertones, implied stalking, panty stealing, major character death, size kink, voyeurism, possessive sex, twisted, fluffy feelings. Loner boy/gentle girl dynamic. Protective!Obsessive!Top!König. Reader works as a cleaner at the base. She is described to have hair and prefers to wear dresses off work. Not safe or sane but mostly consensual.
A/N: Finally I can share the rest of this crazy story with you guys! Chapter 4/4 will be posted right after this one. Also if you haven't yet seen @shizukaay0 's amazing fanart for this fic, go take a look, it's steamy!
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
She wakes up next morning only to find König gone.
The restless night nearly makes her sleep in, and when she notices that the man has left while she was still sleeping, something twists like a blade inside her stomach. She throws the covers off, scours the room with her stare, and notices a note and a small sunflower on the bedside table.
He has left his knife – or one of them – here too. Another gift.
The steel is dark, nearly black; the handle olive green, with sturdy finger grooves and a heavy guard to protect the fingers. The saw-toothed portion on the back of the blade gives the knife a look that most people would probably deem ugly. The blade is wide and ends in a vicious, fat tip that looks sharp enough to puncture flesh without having to apply much pressure.
She doesn't know what a Glock knife looks like, but this is exactly how she sees König: petrifying, big, and brutal. In her eyes, beautiful… Stunning.
The knife juts from the table and holds a note in place although there is no risk of wind to take it off.
Flower for my Engel
I'll see you tonight
The clumsy, hurried message immediately makes her smile. The disturbing thoughts from last evening are only an odd memory – his offerings make her insides glow with warm milk and honey, she feels silly, like summer – and the promise to come to her every night doesn't feel like a threat anymore, it feels… magical, a secret romantic meeting, something wild, something she has always avoided from fear of trying new things.
The floral dress on the floor doesn't appear as evidence of her ruining anymore. It's fairytale-like: that he leaves flowers and knives wherever he goes. The destroyed bra makes her almost giggle. When has a man ever done something like that to her in the heat of passion?
The night feels like another odd dream: König had barely fit to sleep in her bed, and she had barely fit to curl around him. He had slept like a baby, motionless and peaceful, while she woke up every few hours to admire him: to watch the slow pulse between his collarbones barely revealed by the hood and listen to the faint snore that stopped for the smallest moment when she brushed her fingertips over his stomach.
Her muscles ache from lying half on top of him all night. Changing position was out of the question because he held an arm of steel around her all night. Luckily, it prevented her from falling from the bed. But now her muscles were coated with pains of not getting enough sleep while being held in place by a giant for almost 9 hours. Not to talk of the fresh aches born from their activities before getting those precious few winks of sleep…
She goes to work that day with such an everlasting beam that people notice her. She's not entirely sure what has happened, but she is suddenly wildly alive, and blooming.
No one knows about her secret man, her secret, sturdy weapon. No one knows she is the one he comes to every night: the shy, invisible cleaner who has seduced the man whom everyone fears.
And they can keep their boring normalcy and dull decency. She has found something infinitely better.
He's her most precious secret from now on.
He comes to visit her in the break room in the middle of the day, and she's slightly surprised. She thought they would see each other only at night from now on.
She greets him with a smile, and he answers her delight with an amused twinkle in his eyes. He looks far more normal now that the tension is gone. It's suddenly easy to be in his company because they share a secret nobody else knows about.
"Hi… What are you doing here?"
Her shy smiles and the soft whisper should tell him that she doesn't object at all to this sort of intrusion. She might be a little obsessed now too.
"I had to see you," he says as if she's his priority from now on, and her heart feels lighter and lighter. He's equally as lovestruck as she, then.
"You look so beautiful."
She's walking in a dream again: this man calls her beautiful even when she's hidden in her cleaner uniform, stripped from her dresses and flowers and makeup. The only thing she has is her smile, really, but he's not any less adoring. She's being worshiped during her sleepy coffee break, in broad daylight, when she's dressed in dull, grimy working clothes… Who would've thought?
“Thank you,” she gives him another smile, and he moves to her; so close that she has to crane her neck to look up at him.
The kiss that follows is stolen but thoroughly consensual. She disappears inside his hood and smiles on his lips, which are far gentler now. It's a chaste little kiss that happens in darkness and in secret, like everything else between them.
"Will you come to me tonight…?" She asks as if the note wasn't promise enough that he would. He's far too decent, not even groping her this time, and it drives her crazy.
"Nothing could keep me from you," he answers straight into her mouth. His musk and the soap he uses – something breezy and pungent, tea tree, perhaps – surround her much like the hood.
"You can be on top this time. I want to see how you take it–"
"Shh…" She smiles, almost laughs at his libertine whispers. He's smiling, too.
"Don't worry. I'll do the heavy lifting if you're tired."
He retreats, the hood is taken away and her sight is filled with light and decency, but then his hands go around her waist and lift her from the ground. It's like she's flying, floating through the air before he sets her gently on the coffee table.
"Except that you're not heavy at all," he says, voice dark and thick from arousal. He moves to her neck, the hood-coated face roams up and down her throat as he moves to whisper more suggestions in her ear.
"Or you can take it in your mouth… Have you ever had a man in your mouth?"
Something tells her that if she were to say yes, it would deeply upset him. The hair on the back of her neck starts to tingle, and when she doesn't answer him, he continues.
"I could eat you at the same time. Would you like that?"
His voice is darker still, and it makes her bite her lip and grab his arm for support. Even the idea of a 69 with him is dizzying. She can barely breathe from the joy and wanting.
How is she supposed to continue her day when he pops up out of nowhere and talks such sweet filth in her ear?
"König…"
"And after that… We'll fuck until your legs shake."
"Stop," she laughs a hushed giggle in the fabric of his hood. "This is inappropriate…"
"Oh ja. I'm hard again."
Mmh.
"All your fault, Engel."
"You are incurable," she laughs.
"That's what they say."
Perhaps it's a joke, but the word they makes her briefly wonder if he has had this kind of affairs with other women, too. Perhaps she's not so special after all. The image of him fucking other women with abandon breeds a stale, bitter putrefaction in her stomach.
Has he called them angels too…?
Her hands are about his neck, but she has no memory of throwing them there. She wishes she could just dangle from him the rest of the day until he carries her to bed and does all the things he just promised he would do. Let her do all those things to him while he gets to watch – watch how well she can take him, ride him, suck him.
She makes a silent promise to herself and to him that she will be the special girl, no matter the cost.
"Do you want coffee? I just made some," she asks in hopes that he would stay for a little while longer even if he isn't supposed to be here in the social spaces of the maintenance personnel.
"Sure. I would love that."
The man wants his coffee dark, and it only makes her smile as she pours him that minimalistic, unsweetened beverage. She likes his knives dark, his hood dark, his shirts dark… Perhaps she should start wearing black dresses.
"You left your knife in my room."
"For you," he tilts his head a little, wanting to know if she likes his gift. Has he given knives to other women, too, after he's fucked them…?
"Thank you. It's incredible."
"Good combat knife," he nods. "Doesn't reflect light."
If someone was here with them right now, they would probably roll their eyes at how deranged this conversation is. What rotten lunatics they both were.
She’s completely flushed, and smiling like an idiot from receiving a fat, vile knife as a present after having been fucked into oblivion twice last night.
"Well, it reminds me of you."
He looks at her, searching for deceit or ridicule, but there is none.
"That's how you see me..?"
"Mm-hm," she hums with sudden lightness. "Incredible."
His eyes betray the same look he had when he came inside her last night: brief, fragile, naked hope. Her next smile is sadder because obviously, this guy didn't receive compliments often. She's watering a dry desert plant with a single, simple word, and his eyes light up like he's just received years and years worth of good care.
He steps forward and looks like he is finally about to sit at the table. The obsessed look has melted into pure adoration: it's even more knee-buckling than the possessive stare that has followed her for weeks.
One of the maintenance officers arrives to get a cup of coffee in a hurry; a man whose name she doesn't even care to remember, whose world seems to consist mainly of stress. He’s a typical, middle-aged, burned-out man who doesn't appear to remember how to cherish the little things – such as a good cup of coffee – but rushes by everyone and everything and blames them for his stress. She always feels pity for both people and inanimate objects that get to suffer from this man’s exhaustion.
But she doesn't even see him now: all she sees is the fierce operator who is not supposed to be here. The giant who looks at her equally as mesmerized, like everyone else has ceased to exist in this world.
The air is teeming with naked lust and barely contained, sweet hunger, but the poor officer is blind to all of that. A sudden warmth gushes on her chest as the man bumps into her while rushing by with his overfilled coffee mug. She might as well be invisible again, and the hot liquid burns, but it has no power to make her angry or sad.
“Oh–excuse me,” she chirps with a dreamy smile on her face when it’s all his fault that she has coffee all over her shirt.
Before the man gets to the door, König grabs him by the collar and hurls him against the wall. She doesn’t even catch the knife before it plunges inside a round stomach like the worker is merely a balloon to be punctured.
The blade comes away all red, then disappears into the flesh again, and again and again… She loses count after six; the knife sails inside the same hole like he’s fucking the man with the blade. The slick sounds remind her of their intense love-making last night, they taint the passion in the most twisted way.
More hot coffee ends up splashing on her thighs before the sound of a mug smashing into tiny little pieces on the floor tells her that all innocence is lost.
Her gaze is glued to the black and red mush that used to be a polo shirt and a stomach: the man stays upright only because he is not allowed to collapse to the ground. But after a few seconds that seem to last hours, he is shoved to the floor in a sad heap.
She’s still staring at the now dead man when König takes a small step toward her. It occurs to her that both her palms are over her mouth only after she raises her eyes to his, and sees that he had expected some other reaction than this.
Her hands won’t descend; they try to keep all her horror inside, try to reassure her that this is only a dream, she hasn’t woken up yet, and the relief will be immense once she does.
But that never happens.
It’s real, and she would give anything to go only a few minutes back in time where the man was still alive and König was not everything she always feared he was.
He is looking at her with bewildered confusion, then the corner of his eye twitches, just once. He forces the blade back into its sheath without wiping the blood off: a telltale sign that he is more than thrown off balance.
Her horror and disgust escort him out the door in a tornado-like state, and she is left alone with two spilled coffees and a bleeding corpse, wondering who will clean the mess because she cannot for her life do it.
. . . . . .
The shock leaves her body cold and weak as she sits on a bench in the hallway, too distracted to carry on with her day, too afraid to go into her lonely room. It feels safer to remain in a public space, even if people who pass her by look at her with pity and confusion.
She cried her eyes and heart out after the shaking receded. She understands now why shock is such a dangerous state to be in. She always thought it a lie that people could die from shock, but not anymore.
Other people cleaned the mess, after the investigation. How she was able to stay so calm and collected during the questioning is a miracle on its own. What came after was an empty, bleak abyss.
She’s still staring at the floor after the buzzing around her quiets down. Minutes or hours pass by, the work day is over, steps fade away, doors close, people leave.
“Now now… What's the matter here lass?”
It’s the Scottish dude, unbearably benign, and looking like he’s actually caring about why she looks so devastated.
So, the other operators haven’t yet heard.
She doubts if König will receive much more than a scolding for what he did, high-ranked and fiercely dedicated to his work as he is. The man’s simply too valuable to be thrown away. They will just blow enough money to cover this shit right up.
This is not a regular army, and these are not regular people.
Soap sits down next to her, and she doesn’t even mind. At least he’s normal. At least something in this world is still intact, and smiling kindly.
"König did–König did something terrible."
She snobs and snivels, nose clogged and numb, eyes still burning from the tears. Soap looks at her with unadulterated concern, then pity. His brows knit together and he swallows before sighing profoundly.
"Right. What did he do now?"
When she only continues to stare at the floor, Soap raises a hand and starts to rub her back. Rather forcefully, to make it clear that he's not making a pass at her.
“Did he do something to you?”
She shakes her head slowly, because technically, it’s the truth. He didn’t knife her down.
Soap doesn’t ask any further questions. He must know without telling that König has done something bad, something fucking foul even if she hasn't been at the receiving end of it.
"Wanna hear my advice? Just stay away from that guy. Don't talk to him, don't pay attention to him."
The hand on her back stops as he thinks of more advice to give her while her heart grows cold and lonely.
"Just pretend that he doesn't exist."
It’s another punch in the gut to hear that she, the invisible girl, should simply return to her invisibleness and condemn König to nonexistence, too. To cast him out and send him even further into exile. To pretend that he had never been inside her, never brought her gifts.
The hand disappears, but then she feels padded gloves on her chin. She's too tired to flinch, and the hand gently coaxes her to turn her head and look back at the Scottish sunshine.
"Now… Give me a little smile, lass. It can't be that bad."
He’s not flirting with her.
She’s far too plain for Soap.
Or at least, that’s how she feels: unattractive, to men like him. To twinkling brown eyes, a perfect jawline, good jokes and outgoingness… She's had a few admirers but König is the only man who has looked at her like she’s nothing short of a goddess.
Soap, however, is the only one who came to clumsily cheer her up from the slump that witnessing a violent stabfest has sent her in. Everyone else just rushed by with feigned hurry. Every kindness she receives, she usually returns tenfold… But kindness is also a burden. Under the surface, she mainly wants to get rid of Soap; wants just to be left alone. Finally go back to her room and cry herself to sleep.
So she gives him a smile, shy enough to make him believe it’s genuine.
"There we go," he smiles back like an innocent sun, and behind him, in the darkening hallway, she catches the approaching giant: a black hood and under that, a bone-searing blue gaze.
"Wait–wait, wait!"
She darts from the bench, between Soap and him, like her lithe little body is enough to shield John MacTavish from a murderous titan.
If a man who spills coffee on her deserves to be stabbed more than a dozen times, what will happen to a man who has dared to touch her and make her smile?
"Don't,” her hand meets the steel of König's chest, and the blood drunk Goliath actually stops.
“Don’t, König, please."
The ice-cold gaze drops to her, and there’s such a range of emotion behind those blues that she has a hard time catching even half of the storm raging inside her maniac.
Soap rises from the bench behind her: the rustle of clothes and the squeak of gear tell her as much.
"Caught the girl crying,” he says with poorly disguised trepidation in his voice. “Now I don't know what you have done but maybe you should apologize."
Soap’s bravery is admirable. The flash of rage that is sent behind her could scald flesh from bones.
She presses herself against König, hugs his middle, tries to guide his attention elsewhere.
Just let the him go, please, no more…
Soap could perhaps defend himself for a while, but she doubts if the Austrian war machine would stop even when he’s shot full of holes.
Gargantuan arms go around her like a cage: she’s his, and forever will be. The true cost of being cast out from heaven is heavier than she had ever imagined; the tears that arise are born from a deeper trauma than that of witnessing a homicide in her quiet little break room.
. . . . .
König waits as she goes to have a shower. He follows her like a dark cloud as she goes to throw her work clothes, stained with coffee and the memory of blood, to the washing machine. He waits with statuelike composure as she finally sits on her bed, hair still dripping wet and leaving damp stains on her cute little white dress.
Wearing white seems like an abomination right now.
"I told you I don't want you to hurt people," she says quietly while watching how the water gathers at the tip of the strings of hair and tip-tip-tips on her dress and hands.
The man says nothing to defend himself. All the rage and fury is gone, his shoulders are tense, high up in the sky, almost in his ears. He’s shielding himself, and it makes her confused – clearly, he feels empathy, so why is he like… like this?
"I don't think you understand,” she swallows, heart beating more calmly now. He’s not going to plunge a knife in her, that much is certain. But still…
"I'm afraid of you."
She raises her stare: a powerful accusation, a woman's weapon. His head pulls back – he's surprised at this newfound nerve.
"I'm afraid of you, König," she emphasizes, much louder now. The declaration rings so true that it leaves her breathless and free, even powerful.
He, on the other hand, is a paralyzed beast. A golem stripped of the magical word that makes him a soulless robot. His eyes betray fear of loss for the first time, real, actual fear. He steps toward her, and when she doesn’t stop him, walks slowly to where she’s sitting.
He falls to one knee, slowly, so slowly – like she's a bird about to fly off. It pulls at her heart, it rattles the cage of her ribs. The frigid padding of his gloves touch her cheek, and she surrenders an inch or two. Maybe more than that.
She doesn’t know who lifts the mask, he or she, but her lips meet his desperate ones under all that black.
"I'm afraid of you…"
She whispers it on his lips, in his mouth, although she’s not afraid anymore. She’s pissed, and somewhat in love, and addled, shaken, ruffled to her core.
The kiss turns into a hungry one when he notices she’s not meaning what she says. Before long, she's on her knees too, and he's devouring her until she finds herself in his arms, being gently set on the floor. A trembling hand disappears under the hem of her dress, and the fabric comes up with it as he travels up her thigh.
But the only thing that’s wet right now is her hair, everything else is parched dry, locked up, sealed like the tomb of Tutankhamun, and there are curses in store for the one who will try to enter with force. Hell, even with a trembling, delicate hand.
And it’s not because she can’t get aroused – she could, in mere minutes with him – but because she’s not wet at the very instant he’s in her presence, that makes her grab the hand currently trying to get some solace from her.
"No."
He stops but doesn’t move that hand away. He’s panting in her mouth: needy, and in a whirlpool of despair. The only thing that can make him feel better is her wetness, which she cannot provide him.
The hand probes; it forces its way up just an inch.
"No."
She's relentless, and he finally draws his hand away, only to place it hesitantly and with an immense amount of grief, on her waist. She feels tiny under that giant palm.
"I'm not your plaything," she whispers, even finds the courage to shoot a tiny glare his way.
The hand does not apply pressure. If anything, it grows lighter and lighter with the fear of scaring her away.
"I made a mistake, Engel," he breathes. "You're not a toy."
Her eyes must betray both her hurt and longing because the man ups the stakes immediately.
"I'll give you anything you want," he tries: so desperately, so seriously that it sounds quite ridiculous.
"Can you just go," she whispers while a tear or two push out from the corner of her eyes. They’re hot as hell because they’re born of odd love.
"Engel–"
"Just leave."
The fingers on her waist curl, they grab her dainty little dress like it’s his only gateway to heaven. He releases the fabric soon enough, then grabs it again and lets out an agonizing sound.
Just go, go, please just leave me be…
She wants him to understand that there are consequences to his actions, and at the same time, she wants him to just hold her, to fix everything and fix her. It doesn't take the bitter taste of betrayal off her tongue to realize that she always knew what he was. She knew.
He rises to his feet, paces around a few times, more and more confused, distressed like a tortured animal. She sniffs and curls into a fetal position, hoping that he would just leave, and at the same time, hoping that he would brush off her demands and just hug her.
"I can't," he finally wails as if he can hear even her thoughts. "You're crying…”
It breaks her heart into million pieces – how can the same man stress and fuss about her tears when just hours ago, he had murdered some innocent man in cold blood?
He comes to the heap of her again, falls to his knees, then caresses her arm so softly that at first she thinks she’s just imagining the touch.
"Little angel," he tries.
Her following sob is like that of a child's. Why does he have to be so perfect and at the same time, such a–
"I know that I'm a monster."
Her eyes want to fly wide open, but she keeps them shut. He's self-aware, so much so that it hurts. He pets her more neurotically now; it's almost as if he's comforting himself and not her.
"Don't send me away," he begs, then curls behind her in an awkward spooning, holds and rocks her gently as she cries some more. After the catharsis that lasts for good long minutes, he gathers her like a doll in his arms and carries her to the bed so she doesn't have to lie on the cold, hard floor.
"I'll make it better," he says again and again as he caresses her and strokes her hair, "I promise I'll make it better…"
“Just go,” she cuts him off with a whisper.
He leaves eventually, after some more pacing and a few sighs, and she understands that he actually cared for her all this time: otherwise, he would've just taken what he wanted.
She slips into a dream, a soft oblivion where everything is well and summer is at its peak. They hold hands and stroll through the freshly cut grass, birds are singing, and he has no mask.
Taglist:
@ghostinvenus @konigsleftkidney @stillinracooncity @valenspuppy @koionthewalls
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multific · 9 months
Text
Modern Warfare Men as Sugar Daddies (Extra) - Preferences
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Part 1
Warnings: Smut, Sugarbaby-Daddy relationship 
A/N: Since the previous post was very well-loved, I decided to write more details about the characters. Apologies if there are things which have been mentioned before. I also considered the vote and wrote this according to what people wanted to see the most. 
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John Price
It was never about the money for John.
But now, he enjoyed every aspect of it.
Buying you everything you wanted, and in exchange, you would oh-so-nicely bend over his table without a question.
John is a very giving person but he does enjoy being taken care of. 
"I'll take care of you, Daddy." you would say with a sweet voice and John would be a goner.
He loves oral. Bot receiving and giving. 
But let's be fair, he is a giver after all.
He can spend hours between your legs and is not afraid to overstimulate his pretty little doll.
He likes to hear you plead and beg. 
But in the end, he would always give you exactly what you want.
And after sex, he would be a sweetheart. But let's be honest, he first needs his sleep. A little nap for Captain John Prince and then, he would be good.
He would be so hungry so no matter if you are as well or not, food would be a given. 
So be prepared for a nice order of any he craves at the moment.
You never had sushi naked before? Now you will. 
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Johnny MacTavish
Let's be honest this man has a kilt.
And he fucked you many times while wearing said kilt. He would hike it up and then pound you.
The little devil doesn't even wear any underwear under his kilt.
Johnny likes you in pretty dresses. The shorter the better. Without anything under.
Just a dress. 
That's it.
Every restaurant you go to, you always feel people watching you.
"They are jealous, Bonnie." he would say. And you believe him.
Being with a handsome Daddy, wearing pretty dresses and jewellery, who wouldn't be jealous.
He likes to give you jewellery.
But his favourite is always that pear necklace he gives you every night.
Seeing you covered in his cum turns him on. It is a way to show that you are indeed his.
After the fact, showering is a must.
He would just kiss every inch of your skin while washing your entire body.
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Kyle Garrick
Kyle likes to tease you in public. The thought of getting caught turns him on and you never object.
He likes to buy you things so he can rip them all off.
"I'll buy you something prettier. Let me eat that pussy now." he would always say.
And again, you don't object.
You couldn't even go to the movies without his finger soon finding your clit.
"Don't make a sound and I will give you a reward," he whispered into your ear.
You loved his games. 
And he loved to play with you.
Every outcome of his games was always so pleasurable. 
Giving you nice little rewards which could either be a night of long fucking or a new pair of shoes.
Kyle could be very kind even if he preferred to be a tease. He has his sweet moments when he just enjoys spending time with you. He would have such a sweet smile every time.
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Simon Riley
Never call him Daddy. Ever!
Even IF he is your Sugar Daddy, calling him that would not work. Given how his father was with him, he banned you from calling him that after you did once.
You didn't ask why, the hurt in his eyes spoke louder than any word. So from then on, you called him Sugar or Simon. 
He would be fine with silly nicknames.
Just imagine the faces of people when you come running with a new bag to him asking him to buy it and you call him your little bunny.
Simon's favourite thing is when you tell him that he can do anything.
And you do mean anything.
So, for his upcoming birthday, your daddy asked you one gift.
Anal.
Without hesitation, you said yes.
Not like you can say no to him.
You weren't too surprised anyway. He always somehow managed to insert at least one of his fingers into your butt whenever he was fucking you, no matter the position or occasion.
But then, the next week his hyperfixation is your boobs. He wants nothing more than to fuck your beautiful boobs, no matter their size. 
After the fact, Simon would need a moment for himself, just like 2-3 minutes alone in the bathroom/kitchen to collect himself. But as the months pass, he would get more and more used to having you and he would stay in bed with you. He would pretend to sleep, he enjoys you cuddling to his side and he refuses to admit it.
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König
After your little photos and videos you send him, he always sets his mind to punish you.
You deserve it, he always says. And he can be ruthless. Yet, he would never do something you don't like.
Like that one time when he was mad because you disturbed him during his debriefing, he arrived home and set his mind to fuck you senseless. 
And he did.
He fucked you first with his fingers, then a toy and finally, when you were so cock-dumb, he finally gave you his cock.
But before he did, he looked at your face, the tears and he stopped for a moment.
"Are you okay?" It was a simple question but it held many meanings. 
"Of course, Daddy."
"What's your safe word?"
"Diamond."
"Good girl."
To say that this man fucks is an understatement.
This man fucks and destroys furniture.
It got to the point where after your fifth bedframe, you two ended up with only a matress on the floor. 
The frame left marks on the wall, to the point where it needed a fresh coat of paint.
He was called King for a reason. And he is the King of your Pussy.
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Logan Walker
He got used to you rather fast. To his brother's delight. 
Now the two often teased each other about you.
To your surprise, Logan is mostly normal in bed, nothing too freaky-deeky. 
Which did make you want to see the wild side of Mr Walker.
You want to know more, do more for and with him.
But you knew better than to ask his brother... that would be too weird.
You needed to find out yourself
And so, you pushed him to the edge. With what?
Jealousy.
Wearing a dress too short, looking at a man across the bar maybe for too long. 
And it did the trick.
Logan dragged you home, tied you to the bed and teased you for the entire night.
While he might not be freaky, he for sure likes to spend time with you.
You noticed he liked to just be in the same room.
Doesn't have to be sex.
But you promised to never make him jealous again. He made it clear, you were his and his alone.
He doesn't share. And the marks along your body were the proof of his claim over you.
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Alejandro Vargas
Having him as a Sugar Daddy, you called him your Mexican Devil Daddy.
The one who whispers sweet things in Spanish into your ear while he does the most unpure things to your body.
He likes to have you in his arms at all times. 
Never ask him for a reason behind it.
He doesn't have to explain himself.
His hand is glued to your thigh as he drives.
Alejandro is not a huge fan of punishment but if you push his buttons, he wouldn't be nice.
He says he hates it when you whine but he actually loves it. He for sure has a thing for your brat side.
Keep telling him how much you missed him and he will give you anything you want.
"Chiquita, what would you like?"
"Dinner with you, Daddy."
"Hmm. At the place you like so much?"
"Yes."
"With the private balcony?"
"Yes."
"Do you plan on being naughty like the last time we where there? When you 'forgot' to wear your panties and I had to punish you right there and there?"
"I would never do that, Daddy. I am a good girl." 
He would laugh, you adore his laugh. 
But he would give you the world. 
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Taglist: @fleursirvart @greenarrowhead @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster@capsiclesdoll @puknow @alwayshave-faith @alex12948 @lxdyred  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @praline357 @trshngyn @avengers-r-us @violet-19999 @top1bbgloak   @manduse   @jacalineiscomingforyou  @mandoloriancookie @noname2246
~Masterlist~
ˇAO3ˇ
DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS  
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pkmn-redirect · 8 months
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Chapter 2 - Page 24
First | Previous | Next | Latest Index (chapter 3 info under cut)
Chapter 2 has finally concluded! A whole 8 pages longer than the first!! Woo!! I have a feeling they may just get longer as we get more into the story haha. Oh well! Like last time, I'll be taking a break between chapters to rest a little, get the plot points for the next chapter more polished, and try to get a solid backlog of pages ready. Going to take about of month off- POSSIBLY a month and a half? Depends on how well prepping the chapter goes (I have doomed myself by setting it in ancient Ecruteak City and am not as familiar with classic Japanese architecture as I would like hahaha- time to find some refs and do a bunch of studies!). Either way- it will be back in mid-late November! That DOESN'T mean that the comic feed will be quiet though! Like last time, there's a between chapter Interlude page that will be going up on October 11th! And after that, I plan to post some behind the scenes development stuff on days that the comic would normally update- so if folks want to they can get a look at how I put this together. If folks are interested, I could also open up the ask box for a little while? Do a bit of Q&A for comic related things (I won't be answering anything too spoilery, but you're welcome to ask!). And since it has been asked for (and rightfully so, this thing is getting long and difficult to navigate) I've compiled a pinned masterpost to make navigation easier for folks on mobile. There's been an Index Page set up for the web version since the beginning- unfortunately it's hard to get to normally on mobile, so a lot of folks didn't have an easy way to thumb through pages, and that's no good! So- fixed! I'm also in the process of going back and putting "Prev", "Next", "Read from the Beginning", and "Latest" links on each page update. Which honestly I SHOULD have been doing from the start, but hey- live and learn I suppose? Also ALSO am going to see about getting the Neocities page for the comic that I started months ago more finished so it has its own home away from Social Media- but that's a bit lower priority at the moment haha.
But yeah! Honestly, thank you all so much for reading! The response to this silly little passion project has honestly blown me out of the water, I can't believe how many people are keeping up with it now. :'D I love love LOVE reading reactions and speculation in the comments and tags! Thank you all for sticking around so far, and I hope you continue to enjoy this self-indulgent little project as it goes!
~Ann
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0anonnymouslyours0 · 4 months
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hi I have literally never done this before but I saw your post just now and thought what the heck
could you write a small thing about spencer reid where reader and him are neighbours and they both have a little crush on each other but never get to interact because spencer is literally never there
until either reader or spencer's apartment floods and it's 3am so they just go to their neighbour and there's maybe a cute confession?
(feel free to add your own pizzazz I love your writing!!!) <3333
hihihi girl! request anytime! this also ended up being a lotttt longer then intended <3
warnings: none, its fluffy its cute, like rlly cute and a bit cliche.
spencer reid. that was your neighbours name. considering he was home very little, you'd only seen him a few times and you've never even spoken a word; it seemed silly how much time you spent thinking about him.
you'll admit, your a sucker for a tall brunette with glasses, who wore ties and vests, and perhaps looked just a little nerdy. it was sweet, spencer looked very sweet.
he also happens to be your next door neighbour. like literally, you open the door of your house every day, and are confronted with the site of his own house. he's right there. you've debated sliding a note under his door, or just knocking and suggesting coffee, but you've always backed out.
the opportunity however, presents itself in a slightly annoying way. in the afternoon, you arrive home and walk into your living room to discover the entire floor flooded. one quick check of the house, and you've determined the entire place is flooded.
"jesus christ." you mutter, dialing a plumber and the flood services in your city.
when they arrive, its determined your house will be unliveable for 2 days. 2 whole days.
the plumber, matt, stares at you. "apologies, lady, but your pipes are pretty busted. its gonna cost you too."
you groan, annoyed.
"oh, uh your neighbour, you should check with them. see if they've got any issues." he adds.
you stop, spencer. your neighbour. you have a reason to go talk to him. you leave the plumber, and his little team to get to work, and cross the street to spencers house.
knock. knock.
maybe he isnt home. you look at his driveway. his car is there. the door creaks, and opens, revealing spencer reid. the man himself. in all his messy hair, rumpled shirt, afternoon glory. he pushes his glasses up, staring at you, suprised.
"hi. sorry i'm-"
"y/n." he says, quickly, and then flushes.
"right." your suprised he knows your name, though you do know his. "look uhm, sorry to bother you.. but my house kind of flooded. like everywhere. so, uhh- i was just checking if your house is all good."
his eyes widen. "your entire house? is flooded?"
you nod, grimacing. "yeah.. i mean my stuffs fine, i just have to find somewhere to stay and its a pain." you say, folding your arms and sighing.
he looks at you for a moment, thoughtful.
"uh.. besides from the fact im a total stranger.. you could um, stay with me? i mean. i have a guest room, im usually out all day. i'll cook." he says, quickly. he looks at you, expecting a no.
your suprised at his offer, intrigued even. he seems safe, your not uncomfortable.. and it would save you from having to stay in some cheap hotel.
"really? i mean- are you sure?" you confirm, raising your eyebrows at him.
he nods energetically, smiling. "i mean, it would be easier for you."
you nod, smiling back.
"well.. uh come in?" he says, shuffling to the side awkwardly.
his house is delightful, with heavy linen curtains, and tall bookshelves. the house is mostly wood, with touches of green and navy. it fits him perfectly.
"nice place you have here." you say, smiling.
"thank you." he says, staring at you for a moment. you catch him, and he looks away quickly.
"do you, uhm want a coffee? we can sit for a bit if you'd like." he says, gesturing at the couches in his living room.
you nod. "black with sugar, please."
"oh- i have mine just the same." he grins, hurrying off the the kitchen, before returning with a cup for you. he sits opposite you, studying you for a moment.
"so.. spencer, how long have you lived here?" you ask.
"5 years. which.. i think is a year longer then you?" he smiles.
"correct. uh, where do you work?"
he pauses, thinking thoughtfully. "truthfully, i work in the fbi. behavioral analysis unit." he says, staring right at you.
you shuffle in your seat, suddenly aware that this possibly means he can read your every emotion, or thought.
"thats very.. impressive, but then again you do have an intelligent look to you."
he chuckles, "well, i have been told i dress the part."
you laugh, smiling at him.
"you know.. i noticed you a while ago." he says, looking down at his coffee and swirling it.
you raise an eyebrow, curious.
"how so?"
"well, if i may be bold, your very- uhm very pretty."
your eyes widen, taken aback. you flush, letting out a soft giggle.
"you think so?" you whisper, staring at him. he finally looks up at you, nodding.
"do you say that to all the women you invite into your home?" you tease.
"i don't often invite women into my home.. in fact, you might be a first. quite special." he smiles. your cheeks feel hotter.
"well, spencer, i noticed you a while ago too. your very cute. you might be just my type." you say, staring at him.
its his turn to blush, and he looks nervous, as he turns away from you, lips parting into a smile.
"perhaps a blessing in disguise your apartment being flooded.." he whispers, the smile evident in his voice.
"i mean," you chuckle. "there has been one good outcome.."
"mmm.. silver linings and all." he says, turning to look you right in the eye. its sweet, hes very sweet. you think your very much going to enjoy your next two days here... perhaps even extend your stay.
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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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ofswordsandpens · 5 months
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just finished episode 6…. truly don’t know how to feel about these changes. would love to know your thoughts bc i’m just kinda baffled by some changes tbh
Mixed feelings as always:
Percy's dream slapped. I loved Kronos's actor. It felt perfectly eery. No notes.
No percabeth late night convo on the truck. This doesn't surprise me given we sort of did that on the train already, but now there's just another iconic book moment that we'll get bits and pieces of, but never actually get to see in its entirety/original setting.
I did vibe with the glass prism tool for the iris message and it was pretty cool. The Percy + Annabeth argument was great but I'm gonna be honest, Luke being like "you're arguing like an old married couple" was laying it on a tad thick to me idk idk. I know I'll probably be in the minority there lol but I think it would have liked the line better if Percy and Annabeth got more embarrassed to his statement but they both reacted to it like :/ so it just felt heavy handed on the show runners part more than anything
Lotus Hotel vibes? Lackluster. Uninspired. It just didn't capture that outrageous paradise for kids feeling from the book because they turned it into Hermes' hangout so there's a whole bunch more adults than kids. Basically felt like if you took the movie's version and turned down the energy of it by a mile lmao. (Which is also ironic given RR's post about it today).
And of course the kids immediately know what's happening so like. No fun mystery. No Percy figuring it out. Just them being like "omg we need to be careful" and then immediately separating from Grover lmao.
Okay. LMM's Hermes.... it wasn't bad. Thankfully there was no singing. He was fine. It's more or less that turning the Lotus story line into a Hermes' storyline was like an "okay, I guess we're doing this" thing. I mean I guess we finally introduced something for the non-book reader's to pick up on that Luke might not have the best relationship with his dad (and consequently the gods). But like, nothing about this storyline is something that isn't introduced later on in the books. Nor was it better or more interesting than the original lotus storyline in the books.
Again, its the constant replacement of everything fun and silly and absurd in the book and turning it into a very serious moment, is just like, killing the energy. Seriousness is good. Silliness is also good. The book balanced it greatly. The show struggles here.
Glad we got a Pan mention tho!! Finally!
But um 4 pearls, so no dilemma about who to save. A part of me is relieved because the show's created like 3 other sacrifice convo scenarios so its gotten bit reductive, but Sally being a part of the equation is an entirely different dynamic and now that dilemma is theoretically gone. (unless he loses one of the pearls?)
And Percy's missed the deadline?? Right?? So like? I really don't know what we're doing anymore. In the book the deadline was pretty strict lol. Here I guess the deadline was like, a loose suggestion? Percy's walking into the middle of the god's battle field with master bolt in his hand? Idk.
Overall things in the show feel messy and way less cohesive. They seem to know that certain things from the book are important but not necessarily why, or they'll introduce events or plot points strangely late or way too early.
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youspeakshit · 3 months
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lestappen 2022 moments ~
I wrote this as a reblog to a different post when I saw people saying they barely interacted up until half of 2023. I wanted to share it as its own thing since it really confused me, I actually changed ships in 2022 bc lestappen were all over each other and I fell in love with them.
I'm gonna link some 2022 content so everyone can cheer up together abt the saudi gp podium weirdness, and make heart eyes at their cuteness.
Getting it outta the way first thing, press conference silliness: one two three four. And an extra twitter thread sharing stuff from each gp.
Max interrupting Charles' interview to say hi, and both forgetting about it to have a small chat.
Do I hear hot ass battles on track? And second link has as surprise this gay ass moment bellow.
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And here from a different angle bc austria 2022 is everyone's roman empire.
Charles congratulating Max on his win; they also greeted each other from the cars.
The infamous Charles vlog with Max in the us gp: mysteriously hidden and then removed from his channel.
Them touching 166 times for no reason.
Spending too much time together and using the same phrases.
Behind the scenes of monaco gp by Ferrari and Red Bull are a good watch as well!
Charles got Max for the secret santa that year.
British gp had hidden camera silly debriefings, and also my personal favorite... Charles went after Max to vent about Ferrari fucking up his race and Max looked genuinely upset for him. Extra gifset.
This is just a short compilation of a long year fueled by lestappen that I hope ppl enjoy to learn about or revisit. That year they had 8 podiums together, that's 8 cool down rooms podcasts. And 14 qualis shared, plus 14 post-quali press conferences and waist-hugs. Countless sightings of them out and about with their personal debriefing after qualis and races. It sure was kinda awkward at first, they both seemed to wanna make small talk before getting the hang of their dynamic. But they were battling each other A LOT during this season and having so much fun racing together!
I'll end it linking to a twitter thread with some extra bits. Including this photo from when they got f1 married. Or whatever this was.
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hispg · 3 months
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Between royalty and vows
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Pairings: Prince! Leon x Fem! Reader
Summary: A forced marriage, a fate set in stone, nothing could change that.
In the world of royalty, there were no choices, only obligations to fulfill. What you didn't expect was to become engaged to a renowned prince, ready to succeed the lineage.
Until that moment, you still had some hope that everything would work out, maybe it wasn't so bad. But it would be a shame if your future husband had a mistress.
Wouldn't it?
Wc: 4.5k
Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt/ comfort, cheating, arranged marriage, eventual smut, one-sided love, affairs, manipulative behavior from Leon, male chauvinism, misogyny (I'll put more once things start to progress).
Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 |
An: Sorry for any grammar mistakes, it's late and i wanted to post.😭
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Chapter 6: In your grasp
The day had already started off rather eclectic at the castle, with the servants working around the clock to finish the preparations for the ball that was to take place later.
Despite this, the day wasn't too busy for you, as the attention wasn't focused on you because of the ball. So you could say that everything was fine so far.
Since there was also an exquisite visitor at the castle, a close friend of the king. And someone who also had unshakeable power, worthy of a special reception.
Majesty Graham, also known as the imposing king of the United States, currently a nation with an enviable progression.
The visit had actually come as a surprise, as no one in the castle had expected the sudden appearance. The excuse was that important matters had to be sorted out with King Leonardo, matters that no one knew for sure what they were about, but they did seem to be important.
Despite the discretion that was maintained so that both Kings could talk, the walls had ears, literally. It wasn't hard to find some of the maidens sneaking into the corridors so that they could overhear the conversation.
After all, nothing about royalty could be kept secret for long, as old-fashioned as that may sound. That's the price you pay for being in the royal spotlight all the time.
And since the day was already too quiet for you, what could be better than listening to some of the maids' gossip? Surely you could understand why Majesty Graham was here in the first place.
So you did, taking slow, silent steps through the corridors, listening to the buzz coming from a more secluded corner, and then you saw the maids whispering among themselves, some smiling, others a little nervous, and some others seemed to be daydreaming. What could it be?
"God! Imagine what will happen to that man!" One of the servant girls exclaimed, looking at the others.
One of the others nodded before whispering, "Oh, what a silly idea! How can a man think of getting involved with a princess!"
So that's what it was about. You felt your heart shudder, so Ashley's father had found out about the hidden affair she was having. He just didn't know, who the man was, who subjected his daughter to this shamelessness. Oh, if he only knew.
"I heard! I heard Majesty Graham saying that he would even declare war if he found the culprit! He would be able to declare war on any kingdom!" One of the girls spoke up, putting her hand to her lips to show her exasperation at the situation.
All the others gasped, shaking their heads in denial. The ladies were just as exasperated as you were, and you couldn't help the look of confusion that appeared on your face.
How could this have happened? Leon wouldn't be so careless as to leave something out in the open like that, it wasn't something he would do. After all, it had been going on for years, so how could it have reached the majesty's ears?
You knew that King Leonardo would do his best to hide any clues that led to his son, he had the money and influence to do so. But how long would this situation remain under wraps? Perhaps this was the push to end the situation once and for all, and you were going to do everything possible to make it happen.
It might have been petty, but you couldn't let anything stand in the way of your marriage. That's what good brides did, they looked after their families and their husbands, so you were only doing the right thing.
If Ashley's father was still at the castle talking to King Leonard, then you could make a small appearance at this gathering. You even had the perfect idea of how to sneak into the room where the two men were talking, and it would also be the perfect cue to get Leon to put an end to this once and for all, or at least to get some respect from him.
But there was still something on your mind, would it be worth it? Would that be enough for Leon to see you as a woman? Or rather, as his wife?
You didn't know if it was right or wrong, but given the prince's latest attitudes lately, you couldn't let him keep doing whatever he wanted to you.
That kiss? It was able to send your emotions soaring, even though you wanted to deny it with all your soul, you couldn't even say that it had no effect on you.
Several times you found yourself wondering what it would be like if it were real, if it would feel like to have his lips on yours, even once, but you wanted it to be genuine. That it was something from inside his soul, that he felt something.
But you were already getting used to the idea that it was a silly dream, or maybe you'd have to sacrifice even more for this man, who knows, maybe with some little way out you could turn this situation in your favor?
And when several ideas started popping into your head, you had the brilliant idea of making this extramarital affair you had with Leon open, and you already knew perfectly well what the king's reaction would be.
The first thing that came to mind was the letter that Ashley had given Leon with the flowers, and you still had possession of that little letter. So why not give it to the king? Surely you could have imagined King Leon's furious reaction to knowing that his son was so indiscreet about this affair.
As you walked to your room, you saw a vase of flowers that had been placed in the hallway, they looked fresh, just so you could make your little scene even more intriguing. But of course you would only be the poor damsel in distress, the poor wife who was being betrayed.
Once you'd entered your chambers, you then went in search of the letter you'd kept so carefully. The same letter that made your blood boil just remembering the whole occasion. And you weren't just referring to the flowers you'd received, but to the situation as a whole.
And since Leon was basically inhibiting Chris's presence around you, it was only right to give him a taste of his own poison. You hid the letter in your hands, carrying the small, delicate vase of flowers in your hand, straight to the king's chambers. When you arrived at the entrance door, you straightened your posture and straightened your dress, making yourself perfectly presentable to the king.
It was then that you knocked twice on the door, only to be greeted with a 'come in' a few minutes later.
You did just that, with calm, elegant steps you made your way into the king's chamber. And there stood Majesty Graham, together with King Leonardo. You bowed politely to them both, looking at King Leonard as you held the flowers.
"Forgive the intrusion and indelicacy, Your Majesty. However, these flowers have arrived for the prince." You say, and your sentence was all it took for both men to raise their ears to hear what you had to say.
And of course you wouldn't come to talk to the most important man in the kingdom if you didn't have a reason to, and he was willing to listen to what you needed to say.
"There must have been some mistake." Leonardo said, getting up from his chair and walking over to you to inspect the flowers.
"No, Your Majesty. It even came with this little letter." You say as you hand over the piece of paper, and this makes Graham look at you both.
There was something in his gaze, and it wasn't from God. The man was already mounting his suspicions.
Leonardo then read the much-talked-about letter, his eyes widening and narrowing with every sentence, his face so red that you didn't know if he would be all right after finishing the letter. At the same moment, he looked at you, at Graham, who was already suspicious.
"I didn't understand the urgency, but the maids were in a hurry to give it to the prince." You said, in a tone that gave the perfect impression that you didn't know what it was really about.
And then you decided to add, "Oh, and there was also a certain discreetness."
That was the last straw for King Leonard to let out an audible sigh to control his nerves, and you felt the heavy gaze of Majesty Graham behind you. It was almost a silent conversation.
"Thank you, I'll give it to Leon as soon as he arrives." Leonardo says, not leaving you much room to say anything else.
You then understand that it's your time to leave, and you do so. The same bow you used to enter, you used to leave. Letting the heavy atmosphere remain between the two royals. As soon as you closed the door and left the room, you bumped into Ausdret, Leon's butler.
"Your Highness..." He says in a half bow, looking at you with a frown, as if he suspects something.
You reply with a polite smile, looking at him innocently.
"I was looking for you, princess, the prince asked me to announce his arrival." Ausdret said, and you immediately remembered that Leon had gone out for a horse ride, along with Chris. Another excuse not to leave you alone with the Duke.
"Right, where is he?" You asked, trying to hear what was going on in the King's chamber, but you could hear nothing but incomprehensible whispers.
"In his chambers, he made it clear that he wanted to see you." The butler added, making it clear that it wasn't a debate, if you didn't go to see the prince, he would come to you himself.
You just nodded and left for Leon's quarters. Since the kiss he gave you, something in the relationship had changed. Not that you could say he had any affection for you, but at least he seemed to be warmer.
Perhaps it was because the wedding was tomorrow and he wanted to make a good impression on the people attending, especially his father. At least you could use this as a small gap to try to patch up this doomed relationship, even though you have no idea what to expect, what the outcome will be.
Just as you were about to touch the handle to open the door, you heard footsteps behind you, they sounded like two people, and indeed they were. As soon as you turned around, you saw Ausdret and Leonardo, walking side by side.
Ausdret seemed to be trying to convince the king of something, and he was failing miserably, as for the king, well, his expression was as gloomy as the night. And it seemed that King Leonardo was not only walking to Leon's room, he was marching.
Each step seemed more furious than the last.
The man didn't even give you time to ask him anything, because he stormed into Leon's room himself, slamming the door shut while he talked to Leon about God knows what.
When you heard the door close, you felt so anxious that you couldn't contain yourself, and in the blink of an eye you were behind the door, listening to the conversation on the other side.
For a few minutes you only heard a few murmurs, until you could hear things clearly:
"For God's sake! Are you out of your mind?" You'd be polite to say that it wasn't a scream, as it was obviously one of the clearest shouts you'd heard in a while.
"How the hell did that get into your hands?" This time it was Leon's voice, which sounded indignant and surprised at the same time.
"No. Don't try to change the subject!" Leonardo's older voice echoed in the room once again.
Footsteps and footsteps, an uncomfortable silence, only for a loud voice to echo through the room once again.
"That's enough! This little antics of yours have gone far enough." The king's voice was serious, with no room for argument.
"Don't start. Don't ask me to-" Before he could finish, Leon's sentence was interrupted, just like that.
"It's not a request, it's an order." The king growled, his voice capable of sending shivers down your spine.
You could hear Leon trying to justify himself, but you couldn't hear anything properly, because Leornado was running over him every time, not letting the prince say anything other than a few mumbles.
"That's it! I don't want to hear any more about your recklessness! Put an end to this mess you've made of yourself!" Leonardo's sharp voice was unmistakable.
" Now then, father. I'm not a kid anymore-" And once again Leon was interrupted.
"Then act like a man! Honor what's between your legs. I won't let you destroy your future on a mere whim."
The next thing you heard was something heavy hitting the wall, it sounded like something similar to a punch.
"You're being irreverent, father." Leon says, you could sense the hatred in his voice just by his tone.
"Two days, and that's all you have to end any ties with that woman." The sentence took you aback, how far had it come? To the point where two monarchs had to argue about it.
Not only that, but Leonardo's abrupt intervention seemed to be firm, not something for the moment. He seemed destined to maintain the integrity of his kingdom.
"If you ever speak to that woman again, I will send you into exile!" You were stunned, not believing your own ears.
A father exiling his own son? It was an outrage! Was that your cue? Your chance? Or just a distraction? Something you were expecting too much.
"You wouldn't dare." It was Leon who dared to retort, despite everything, he still couldn't accept the whole situation.
Not least because he had always done everything he wanted, and now they were taking away one of the most important things he had in life.
"Don't try your luck, I hold your future in my hands." After that you heard footsteps heading for the door, and you were quick to move away and hide in a nearby corridor.
You managed to sneak into your room after all the mess, and spent the rest of the day there, thinking about the situation. What had you just done?
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Afterwards, your temper rose considerably, as you honestly felt that you were being fair by playing the same game as Leon, in a fair and equal way to him.
At that moment you found yourself humming around the room, looking at yourself in the mirror as you wore that beautiful red dress, made by one of the most renowned seamstresses in the kingdom, and the dress was just as beautiful as you imagined. The fabric was soft and sophisticated, the top clinging to your upper body like a bodice. While the bottom was a large skirt, which, with all the underwire you were wearing, made it impossible not to notice how stunningly beautiful the dress was.
You didn't skimp on the jewelry either, you wore the most expensive ones you had, you were destined to be the center of attention tonight.
If not for Leon, then for Chris. Such a good person in the middle of such a mess, you couldn't let the Duke out of your sight that quickly.
When you were ready, you started towards the main hall, where Leon would be waiting for you. With light, graceful steps you made your way to the main hall, and at the same moment all eyes were on you.
The stunning princess, an almost angelic image.
And well, if your intention was to get Leon to gawk at you, well, you succeeded. He looked at you as if you were the most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes on.
And at the same moment, he moved towards the bottom of the stairs, wanting to get close to you quickly.
And you were drawn to him like a moth is drawn to light, you knew it would go wrong at some point that night, but you honestly couldn't care less.
Everything around you seemed to stop when you felt Leon's hand on yours, not before he pressed a kiss to the back of your hand, letting his lips linger there for a short while.
It was a magnetism you couldn't explain, sometimes it even sounded stupid, but something about Leon made you severely attracted to him somehow, even if he acted in an uncordial way, something about him was mesmerizing.
"You look stunning, princess." Leon said in a whisper, giving you that gallant smile that made you weak in the knees.
You didn't know if it was a lie, if he really meant it and thought it was so, but his affectionate way made you forget all the bad things that had already happened.
This time you let it go, not wanting to think too much about whether he was being sincere or not, maybe for one night it was worth forgetting. After all, it wasn't hard to deny that you were radiant, it wasn't hard to see that something had brightened your day.
But of course you also noticed that Leon was strangely calm, which was odd given what had happened before. It wasn't hard to guess that Leon was the type to never give up so easily, so something seemed uncommon about this situation.
Perhaps he had something in mind, or perhaps he had taken his father's threat as a bluff. But in any case, he was calm, peaceful, so at peace that it was a bit of a surprise.
But if it's going to be like this, there's nothing better than enjoying the small tenderness of such a moment.
As the two of you walked around the ball to talk to the nobles, you could see Leon's incessant gaze on you, he literally watched your every gesture and movement. You didn't know what it was, but he always kept his attention on you. Something about the way he looked at you made you feel butterflies blooming in your stomach. Looking into his eyes like that reminded you of the ocean, so beautiful but also so treacherous.
In the meantime you also caught a glimpse of Chris, who was in a corner talking to a lady. Probably those dames who were desperate to find a husband, you could tell by the way the girl giggled and touched his arm every now and then.
Seeing that you were looking at Chris, even smiling at him, Leon couldn't let that happen. As a man he had to uphold his honor, so without thinking too much he pulled you in to dance with him, not asking if you wanted to or not. He just did.
You looked at him in surprise, catching yourself frowning at his sudden attitude, as well as the intimate gesture of putting his hand on your waist, in one swift movement gluing his body against yours.
"I'm lucky to have you for a wife." Leon says, his voice echoing in your ears, his warm breath caressing your skin.
Was that a fallacy or an illusion? He didn't think you'd believe it that easily. But maybe... Just maybe.
"I can say the same for you, Your Highness." You say back, keeping your tone clipped, trying to hide the effect he was beginning to have on you.
But you couldn't hide your goosebumps, your flushed cheeks and that cursed accelerated respiration.
"You're not wearing the jewelry I gave you." He notes, taking the opportunity to twirl you around the room.
You didn't wear it by coincidence, you didn't think it matched the dress you chose for tonight. But apparently he saw it differently. An insult.
"I didn't think it suited the occasion, Your Highness." You say, and you saw his lips twitch when you called him Your Highness. So much formality, for your husband?
"You should, I told you I'd like you to wear it." Of course, his demands. How could you expect anything different?
"I don't remember, forgive me." Even though you tried, there was an undertone of stubbornness in your voice. And it didn't go unnoticed by him.
He put himself even closer to you, spinning you around and over at the dance, always keeping you in his grasp, in his arms. And even with all the anguish he caused you, he was so handsome, so easy to believe in, so tempting.
You got so lost in his expressions that you didn't even notice when he took you out of the main hall, away from the curious eyes that were there. In the blink of an eye you were in one of the corridors, his gaze looking deep into your soul.
"If there's one thing I appreciate, it's a woman's loyalty. Especially yours, dear wife." Leon says, his tone laced with a certain malice, something else that you couldn't quite put your finger on.
You didn't understand where the phrase came from, but you saw him glance briefly at Chris, who was on the other side of the dance. And of course you had already heard some buzz about your 'little escapade' with Chris, about the indecent things you two might have done. If only they'd known who the unfaithful one was.
"We can't ask something of someone if we can't be mutual." The words came out of your mouth in the blink of an eye, even you didn't fully expect it.
Leon's response was mockery, his face contorting into what looked like an expression of anger. But he was able to mask it afterwards.
How reckless of you to answer to your own husband, where was your manners? You should behave like a woman, not a tyrant.
"I didn't understand the insinuation, dear." He murmured, his tone so dark that it made something in you shiver.
"Forgive me. I didn't mean to insult you." You said in the calmest, most innocent voice you could muster, feigning ignorance.
At that same moment, you felt Leon pushing you against the wall, both his hands gripped around your waist. You couldn't move even if you wanted to.
"Don't worry, I believe it was naïve of you." He says calmly, that look that was once cold becoming something more.
The haughty façade was giving way to his controlling and manipulative side. It wasn't in Leon's nature to accept things just like that, not now and not ever.
He gave a cynical little smile, pushing you a little further against the wall, his fingers tightening around your waist. The way he looked at you gave you such shivers.
It felt like you were looking at the ocean, that captivating shade of blue in his eyes, as if you were admiring the depths of the waters.
"There's something you should have learned by now, princess." He whispered, his voice bringing out something in you, a warmth rising in your body, a foreign feeling.
You found yourself blushing, biting your lip as you stared at him. And that feeling of warmth only increased when he moved closer, letting his lips linger on your ear.
"I always gamble to win," he said, making your goosebumps rise as he breathed on your ear, "and I always win."
It was the last thing he said, taking the opportunity to kiss your earlobe, you could see him smiling in the corner as he watched your reaction.
He had you in the palm of his hand at that moment, he knew that very well.
"There's always a first time for everything..." You manage to say back, trying somehow to be as bold as him.
But despite the harsh words, your expression gave you away completely. How could he take you seriously with you blushing so much? Your cheeks as red as strawberries. Or the way you, without the slightest intention, looked at him with sly eyes. As if you wanted to earn something.
All the reaction you got from him was a low chuckle, you felt his lips come down to your jaw, so close to your neck that he couldn't help himself, and he let your sweet smell into his nostrils.
"No, darling. I don't think you understand." He says more firmly, this time letting his free hand grip your chin, forcing your gaze to focus on him.
"I never lose. No matter what it costs me." This line of his could imply so many things, you felt your thinking was all out of place.
Was he doing it out of a sense of competition? Because he didn't want to lose to Chris? Or maybe because he wanted to have ownership over something that wasn't his. You.
He didn't like losing, and probably wanted to keep you in his clutches whatever the cost. If he had you in the palm of his hand, he'd have access to a more than healthy kingdom, just as if he had an obedient wife, he'd have no problems.
A wife who would give him heirs, stay with him in good and bad, in sickness and in health, waiting for him while he cared for the crowd. So perfect.
But oh, he was so wrong if he thought you would fulfill that role. So damn wrong.
As you looked at each other like that, you smiled a little, letting your hand rest on his forearm.
"We have something in common, Your Highness." You say calmly, looking at him tensely.
Once he opened his mouth to speak, you indelicately spoke over him, "I'm not in the habit of losing either."
That was that, the disagreement was more than exposed.
Cheeky, disdainful, petulant and impolite. That's how you were acting, far from any decency you had been taught.
You watched as Leon stuck his tongue in his teeth, glaring at you in a defiant manner.
"You need better manners, dear. Maybe you should remember how a woman should act." God knows how that sentence made your blood rise, but it did.
But the look in his eyes said so many things, it was so convincing, not least because he knew that you would be his tomorrow, whether you wanted to be or not.
Not least because he was your future husband, wasn't he?
The dance would continue, and so would the evening. The roles of husband and wife duly filled, painful words veiled in the sweetness of love.
You might have hated him, but there was no escape. So much so that you thought nothing of it, and once again he led you to dance in that ballroom.
The journey was far from over, as was all your frustration. Because he wouldn't let you leave his side.
No, you'd be with him all night. Romantic? Maybe to the blind eye of the real situation, but oh, that's what you're here for, isn't it?
Continue the theater, people are watching.
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Taglist: @gollumsmygel, @quemmysworld, @loveoverdosing, @delulusimps, @d3jecteddoll, @kennedyleyy, @acriixys, @deredvv, @luminehallowss
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zeezu-ix · 9 months
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if sonic boom wont give me the rest of team dark then i'll do it myself!!!!!!!
lately ive been thinking about how boom would implement all the characters that weren't included in the show and UGRHHHH.. THEY'VE BEEN ROTTING MY MIND. especially team dark they'd be sooo silly and rouge would tease shadow to death i think.
for rouge i literally smashed together all of her outfits (her usual one, heroes and a teeeeny bit of the elite agent one) but she's solely a treasure hunter!! Maybe an ex agent but she definitely isn't working for anybody at the moment (i like to think sticks is onto her and how she's totally a government spy)
omega!!!!!! since shadow was never taken and sealed away by eggman in boom i felt like omega's reasons for going against his own creator had to be WAY more geared towards him feeling like he's being held back and disregarded despite his capabilities. like maybe he was used for chores or something stupid despite looking and being built like an absolute tank (eggman just got carried away designing him) and he decided what the fuck!! i dont want to do this for you anymore!! honestly his story is still a huge work in progress so URGHH (also BOO blue eyed omega). i really REALLY tried to make him resemble boom eggman's robots so hope that worked
BUT YEAH!! they both definitely need a little more work done on them (still have zero clue on rouge's colour pallete). ALSO, with this au (au????? im gonna call it an au) i really want to keep the light-hearted and overall really stupid atmosphere of the show, like as much as i am a sucker for angst i seriously have NO clue how the hell im gonna deal with shadow's past. i also have some ideas for silver, espio and charmy too so might design them if i get the time!!! then again i always start these things then do ONE post and never come back to it (sooo guilty of this)
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elysia-nsimp · 5 months
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Well. Saw this blog and I've grown curious about it. Saw requests are open and also you haven't writen anything for Savanaclaw and other dorms so... Yeah I'll shoot my shot. Can you do jealousy headcanons? (Mainly for Leona but Malleus,Vil and Azul too if you're okay doing multiple characters in one post). Just y'know the bois feeling someone is becoming too touchy or getting too close to their S/O (even if said S/O wouldn't change them for anyone else obviously). Okay thank you,have a lovely day <3
Hi!! I just got around to actually working on the few requests in my inbox, so thanks for your patience Anon ^^
I’m nervous about my ability to write Leona, but I’ll do my best !!!
Contents: lack of COMMUNICATION (Azul, Leona, Malleus), insecurity (Azul), possessiveness (Malleus), reader’s gender or pronouns are never mentioned.
Leona
Initially, Leona would start shutting himself off from you.
Suddenly, he’s way more distant and guarded when you’re around.
If you don’t talk to him about it first, and whoever he’s jealous of gets closer to you, that’s when he jumps back in
NOW he’s trying to prove that he’s BETTER than whoever he’s jealous of via leaning against you, buying you things, draping his clothes over you, etc etc.
He WILL NOT communicate his feelings I’m sorry, you’re gonna have to pry it out of him
Good luck 👍
Thanks @thesunshineriptide for basically doing this one for me I got. very stuck
Azul
For the most part, Azul would act unfazed by someone getting too close to you… at least, on the outside.
Inside? He’s both a mix of angry (at them, not you. Never at you.) and worried he’ll lose you.
Even if you don’t notice it, the twins certainly do.
They know him REALLY well, so they see right through that disguise.
If you don’t notice, the twins will probably hint at it until you catch on.
Either way, once you approach Azul about the situation, he seems… panicked? Like, he will deny feeling jealous for a few minutes.
When he stops denying it, it’s clear he’s holding back tears, not wanting to seem like a fool in front of you.
You assure him you love him, you wouldn’t trade him for the world, and if he’s ever feeling insecure, to please talk to you so you can assure him again.
He REALLY appreciates this, more than he can put into words.
He apologies for his silly concerns, to which you tell him that having worries isn’t silly of him. If it’s bothering him, he should be able to feel safe enough to talk about it.
If it ever happens again, Azul is gonna do his best to talk to you, rather than bottling it up.
Vil
Vil is extremely confident in how much you love him. He wouldn’t be dating you otherwise!
However, sometimes concerns still arise… like now!
He takes notices to how close you are to a friend of yours, and suddenly the worry that maybe he’s not affectionate enough with you crosses his mind.
He’s also a tad jealous that they get your affection and he doesn’t. At least, in that very moment.
It doesn’t take long before he approaches you during your down time, asking if he could tell you something.
He takes your hands in his, admitting he’s just a liiittle jealous of your friend, and asks if there’s something missing in your relationship with him.
You tell him you love him just the way he is, and he doesn’t need to change. You assure him you’re just friends with the person he saw you with, and they’re just a hugger.
He’s relieved at this and offers you a kiss, thanking you for listening to his concerns.
He WILL offer you more hugs though. Better safe than sorry!
Malleus
It is… BLATANTLY obvious when Malleus is jealous.
Not only is Lilia always chuckling under his breath whenever Malleus spots you with your affectionate friends,
But he becomes SUPER possessive over you.
You’ll be talking with your friends, then suddenly BOOM! Malleus hugging you out of nowhere.
He shows up unprompted to your dorm just to snuggle up next to you.
He’s quieter than usual, which makes it easy to conclude he’s in a bad mood.
When asked, he simply responds with “Is my love not enough?”
…Ooooohhhh he’s jealous. That makes a lot more sense.
You squish his cheeks and tell him that YES his love is enough, you just have different relationships with your peers and their affections.
He asks if he needs to be more physically affectionate with you, to which you tell him that you wouldn’t change him. It’s entirely up to him to decide that, to which he promptly decides you’re coming with him to cuddle
He’s still lowkey jealous when he sees others getting too close to you, often appearing and hugging you to remind them to not get too touchy feely with HIS Child of Man, but he trusts you a ton and believes you when you say you love him.
——
Thanks again to my buddy Howl for. Basically doing Leonas for me. Lol I’ll work on studying his character more so I can better respond to requests for him. Hope you enjoy this ^^ Have a lovely day yourself Anon!!
I’m still working on formatting for my posts lol, maybe they’ll be prettier one day
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bella-rose29 · 5 months
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Deck the Halls (and not your partner) - part 7
the mistletoe scene I have to give credit to the lovely @novelizt because of this post
this is basically just 3.5k words of fluff to make up for all the pain I put you through the last two parts
Word count: 3.5k
Warnings: swearing, making out (it's happening people, but also it's mildly in detail so for the one tiny paragraph feel free to skip if you're either not comfortable with it or not old enough), Will asks the important questions (both sensible and not), brief mentions of self-esteem issues? lockwood is a bit silly at the end, actually they both are
series master list
(why does he look like this :3 😭)
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"What?" Y/n breathed. She wasn't entirely sure that she'd heard Lockwood correctly.
"I said that I think I've fallen for you."
He looked so sincere, his eyes more vulnerable than she had ever seen them before, and Y/n felt her heart constrict in her chest.
"You..."
"I know, I know." He rubbed his hand over his face, turning to lean back against the window. The mistletoe still hung at his side in his other hand.
"But you were horrible to me! From the very start!"
"I know. I was awful to you that first night and my only excuse is that I was exhausted and in desperate need of my bed, which I know isn't good enough. And then when you came in for your interview I just didn't want to be the one responsible if anything happened to you - wait, that came out wrong. You walked into the doorframe, Y/n. I was worried that you'd hurt yourself on a job, and I didn't want to get too attached to you in case that happened and you got injured or hospitalised or worse and I couldn't do anything to stop it. When I saw how easily the others took to you I knew that I was doomed," he let out a laugh, shaking his head. Y/n hoped he realised how ridiculous he sounded. "I know that doesn't excuse my actions, Y/n, but I meant what I said about that job we took in March. I really thought I wouldn't get there in time and I was terrified."
"Lockwood... you can't just... say that! I mean, you have said some genuinely horrible things to me and now you're saying that you - you what? That you-"
"I don't know!" he cried, filled with exasperation. "Alright? I don't know how else to describe it! I don't know if how I feel is love because I've never felt like this before, but I do know that I care about you far more than I should given I'm your boss, and I really don't know what would happen to me if you got seriously hurt, alright?" He was out of breath, cheeks flushed as he looked at her, and Y/n felt her own face heating up at his admission.
"Okay, okay," she said quietly, still processing everything he'd said. They stayed there for a few minutes, both leaning back against the windows as they tried to figure out what the hell they were going to do now. "I don't..." Y/n broke off with a sigh. She needed to phrase this right or they would be in even deeper shit than they were before. "I don't think I can just... forgive you, Lockwood. You have a lot - and I mean a lot - of grovelling to do to make up for how you've treated me these last few years." He nodded frantically, hope starting to shine in his eyes.
"Anything," he said. "Anything at all." She knew that he meant it.
"And I want to go on more cases if I'm staying at the company, because you can't just keep me behind because you think I'll walk into a doorframe."
"Done." He paused for a moment, looking like he wanted to say something else. "But you have-"
"Nope! No protests, thank you!" He stopped talking immediately, looking rather like a lost puppy as he gazed at her. "No more hating each other, either, although I feel like that's a given. And the first date had better be fucking incredible, alright?"
"... First... date?"
"Yeah, keep up, Schmoopie." She couldn't deny how her heart lifted at the sight of Lockwood looking so happy, and when he grinned her responding smile was involuntary.
"Wait... so do you... you know. How do you feel, about..." he waved his hands vaguely in the air, then accidentally hit himself in the face with the mistletoe. "Shit, I think that went in my eye. I forgot I was holding that," he grumbled, and Y/n didn't bother biting back her snort. He sent her a glare, but there was only amusement behind it.
"I don't really know, Lockwood."
"Anthony."
"What?"
"If we're going to start dating I'd much rather you called me Anthony." He blushed and went quiet as he looked out the window. "I like it better when you call me Anthony anyway. Sorry, I uh, I interrupted you."
"Oh, no, that's... that's alright. Uh... yeah. Like you said, I don't know how to describe it. I know that it really hurt me when you said that you wouldn't ever feel the same way, and I guess I just didn't want to admit to myself that I care about you a lot too because you were such a huge arsehole to me-"
"Yes, got it, sorry again."
"-but I do care about you, Anthony. A lot. And honestly that does annoy me because I'm pretty sure I've liked you since we met because I did think you were really gorgeous, except then you were really rude and-"
"Wait wait wait wait wait," he exclaimed, waving his hands in front of him. "You think that I'm gorgeous?"
Now it was Y/n's turn to feel her face heat up, and she swatted at his hands. "I did, yeah. Then you opened your mouth."
"Oh."
"Yeah." She waited a moment, then spoke again. "If you must know, I still think you're gorgeous," she muttered, and Anthony lit up, a smug smile landing on his face. Surprisingly she'd missed them, and while she still felt the burning flames in her body at the sight of that stupid smirk, it was no longer hatred.
He stepped forward a little (only a little, since they were back to being incredibly close to each other) and held the mistletoe in both of his hands. "Your grandma Jean gave it to me," he said. "She told me we might need it because it used to be a symbol of peace, and if people met under it they had to stop fighting." They both had been looking down at the plant, but when Anthony lifted his head so did she, and her breath caught in her throat at the look in his eyes.
"So you want to kiss me again?"
"I mean, I wouldn't be entirely opposed to that, if you're offering."
"Really? Really, Anthony?" Her tone was joking, but she felt him move back almost imperceptibly when she didn't immediately agree to it, and her heart skipped a beat when she realised he was waiting for her permission.
"Well I can't kiss you if we aren't under it, can I? So I don't know what you're so worried about, darling."
"Better try and catch me then if you want a kiss," she teased, and leapt away a second later.
"We're running now? When we've just had a huge meal?" He stepped forward anyway, and Y/n laughed with pure joy when he started chasing her around the room, attempting to catch her but just missing every time. Finally she tripped, catching her foot on the corner of the bed, and Anthony swept her into his arms to stop her from hitting the floor. Instead they hit the mattress, Y/n landing on her back and Anthony on top of her, his arms bracing his body while he still clutched the mistletoe in his left hand. They were both breathing heavily from the last five minutes of running and laughing, and now their faces were so close together that they were essentially kissing already.
Anthony held up the mistletoe over their heads the best he could while simultaneously not collapsing on Y/n, and he raised his eyebrows at her. "May I kiss you, darling?" She couldn't speak, so she nodded instead, and within a second his mouth was on hers, somehow better than it had been the first time. It was tentative and small, and he pulled back to flick his gaze between her eyes and her lips. It had left her breathless despite how short it had been, and before she could think they were crashing into each other with the same passion as they had the night before, her hands lifting to grab his hoodie and his hair in desperation. At some point Anthony dropped the mistletoe to move his hand to her waist and bring her closer to him.
There was nothing but him, nothing but the weight of his body on top of hers and his hands touching her and his tongue in her mouth, and then he was pulling back for air and she was chasing after his lips, and he was smiling down at her like she was the only thing that mattered.
For whatever reason, they started laughing, Anthony dropping his head to nestle in the crook of her neck while Y/n wrapped her arms around his torso to bring him impossibly closer.
"So... does this mean I can call you my girlfriend?" he asked, hope making him light up like the Christmas tree they had in the living room.
"Yes, Anthony, you can call me your girlfriend," she laughed, and it turned into a snort when he got up and did a celebratory dance. "You're ridiculous, you know that?"
"Oh, believe me darling, I am fully aware."
~~~
"Hey, Squeak. You alright?"
Y/n had been sitting in the library, staring out the window at the snow that had started falling while she tried to concentrate on the book in her hands. Anthony had been called into the living room by her parents, and they'd parted with a not-so-small kiss just out of view of her family. Will had apparently managed to find her, and was settling into the opposite side of the window seat that she was occupying. "Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"
"I dunno. You seemed a bit... off. At dinner. Is everything alright with you and Lover Boy?"
"Oh," her face burned at the memory of what had happened barely twenty minutes ago. "Yeah, we're all good." She awkwardly sent him a thumbs up, her smile more of a grimace than anything else, and Will looked unconvinced.
"What's really going on, Y/n/n? Because if I need to beat him up-"
"NO! No, don't... don't beat up my boyfriend, please." It felt weird calling Anthony her boyfriend now, despite it being more real than it ever had been before. "Really, we're fine."
"Fine? You're fine? What did you two talk about upstairs? Because I'm pretty sure I heard shouting."
"We were just..." At the look on her brother's face she trailed off, and glanced at the door to make sure it was closed. "What exactly did Mum say when she got off the phone with me a few days ago?"
"What do you mean?"
"When she told people that I had a boyfriend, what did she say? How did you find out?"
"Mum went into the kitchen to take your call because we were all in here playing board games, and then we heard her shout 'You have a boyfriend?!' and Linda went to investigate, and then you turned up with Lover Boy."
"And are you sure that Mum wasn't just... making it up for some reason?"
"Why would she make it up?"
"Because I didn't have a boyfriend, Will."
"But... if you don't have a boyfriend then why the hell are you making out with your boss?"
"We are not making out!"
"Sure. But when you kissed yesterday under that mistletoe," he pointed to where it hung over the library door, "I definitely saw tongue."
"WILL!" She picked up the nearest pillow and chucked it at his head, then hid her face behind her book. "Oh my god, this is not happening."
"Ok, but that still doesn't answer my question," he said after half-heartedly throwing the pillow back at her. "If you didn't have a boyfriend, then why is your boss here saying that you're dating?"
"Because I made him. We actually can't stand each other. Or, we couldn't. We made up. Ugh, this is complicated. We have hated each other for about three years and then when Mum said very loudly that I was bringing my boyfriend to Christmas in front of Linda I didn't have much of a choice but to bring someone or face utter humiliation. Apparently nobody wanted to go to the middle of the countryside for three days with a complete stranger and pretend to be her boyfriend so I had to ask Anthony because George was already busy, and honestly I think we did a pretty good job of hiding the fact that we hated each other."
"And the shouting was you making up? Or were you angrily making out?"
"Will! Fuck's sake! Making up. I did tell him he's got a lot of grovelling to do, but now we're actually together."
"So you did make out."
"What's with the weird obsession about whether or not I'm making out with him?"
"I just like making you uncomfortable. That's my job."
"Well quit your job and get a different one." They sat in silence for a while, just staring out the window at the dark landscape. Although she knew that Will couldn't see them, she still pointed out the few ghostly figures that she saw. Her Sight wasn't nearly as good as Anthony's when she wasn't using her Touch, but she could still make out the glowing shapes in the fields.
"While we're on the topic of jobs... I'm guessing you're not leaving the company anymore," he said after a while.
"What?" she asked, startled by his words. "What do you mean?"
"I heard you at dinner, Squeak. You said you were gonna leave the company. I didn't hear anything else 'cause Nanna Jean was talking to me about her garden again for like, the eighth time today, but when I heard you say that... I dunno. You love your job, and I didn't think there was anything that would make you leave it."
"I wouldn't have stopped being an agent, I would have just moved company. He said a lot of mean things, and in fairness I said some horrible shit too, but he's not got that much power over me."
"Squeak... are you sure you wanna be dating him? If he hurt you so bad that you wanted to leave the company then I don't know if it's the best idea," Will frowned, concern in every inch of his body.
"I know. If he fucks this up then I am leaving. Properly. Because I know that it's not... ugh, I don't know. I was just tired of not being treated in the same way that he treated the others, and he's explained why he was like that, and he was weirdly similar to a puppy when he apologised - not that that convinced me to date him, by the way - and I really hurt him too, over the years."
"Just... out of interest... what exactly did you say to each other that made you start hating each other this much?"
"I was walking back from a solo case, walked into him, apologised, stepped on his shoes, and he told me that he'd just bought them in the most stuck-up voice I had ever heard and it pissed me off." Will stared at her.
"That's... it?"
"To be fair I then went for an interview at his company, didn't realise it was him, and the moment I walked in he went 'we don't want agents like you' or something, so... you know!"
"Okay... that's still not a lot though. You really started what, three years of hatred based on... on that?"
"Well, when you put it that way it sounds stupid, but-"
"No, no 'buts', missy," Will said, waggon his finger at her. "It is just plain stupid. Did you actually hurt each other or were you too busy being idiots?"
"In fairness I really struggle with keeping up to other peoples' standards, alright?! And it did hurt that nothing I did ever seemed to be enough to make him like me!"
"With the way he was talking about you, he definitely likes you. And thinks you're good enough. You have nothing to worry about there, that's for sure." Y/n flushed at Will's words, thinking back to what she'd overheard Anthony say in this same room the day before.
"So explain to me your feelings on this? Because I feel like you went through every emotion known to man just now."
"I initially thought you two were great together because you're a lot more confident in yourself when he's around, then you told me you weren't together and I was incredibly confused, then you told me that you hated each other and I was even more confused, then you told me that you are actually together now and I was happy, and then you told me that he was horrible to you and I wanted to beat him up, and then you told me that you stepped on his shoes and that's why you hate each other and I was confused again. Make sense?"
"Just about. It wasn't just me stepping on his shoes that-"
"Nope!" Will turned his head away, lifting his hand out in front of him to stop her. "I don't want to hear anymore of this silliness, thank you very much!"
"But it-"
"Nope!" Will pushed forward, grabbing the pillow that he had earlier thrown back to Y/n and whacked her around the head with it. "Nope, nope, nope!" Each 'nope' was punctuated with another hit, and Y/n barely had time to pick up the other pillow and fight back before he was swinging again.
~~~
"Hey," Y/n whispered to Anthony as she came over. He had been sat in the loveseat again (he was almost completely certain that Y/n's family were leaving it specifically for the two of them to use, since her five siblings were squished up on one of the sofas most of the time), and he put down his mug of tea to help her sit comfortably.
"Hi," he whispered back, immediately wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her back to curl into him. She brought her legs up to hook over his and was turned sideways in the seat, her head nestling into his shoulder. He picked up his tea again and was about to take a sip when Will burst into the living room, board game in hand and a slightly crazed look in his eyes.
"We're playing Yahtzee! Everybody take a sheet, you don't have a choice in this!"
"Is this the one you're terrible at?" Anthony asked, speaking quietly into Y/n's ear, and he chuckled when she slapped his arm.
"You can't be terrible at Yahtzee, Anthony, it's a fucking dice game. It's based on luck, idiot."
"Oh, right, silly me. I meant charades. That one you are truly awful at."
"Just because you get really into it and put on ridiculously large hats doesn't mean I'm awful at it," she responded indignantly. "Also, by the way, the use of props is against the rules of charades, so technically you've lost every single one you've done."
"I have not!" he jokingly started, putting on an accent and pretending to be mad. "I am the best at charades! How dare you accuse me of- mmph!" Y/n shut him up by pressing a kiss to his lips, and while he sat there for a moment with his eyes wide open and his posture incredibly tense, he quickly relaxed into it. He still wasn't used to kissing her, and he didn't think that he ever would be, and when she pulled away a few seconds later he was left to chase after her mouth while she giggled.
"Sure, whatever makes you happy, Ant." That was another thing he'd never get used to. The way she said his name. He didn't think he'd heard anything sweeter, and then she was laughing at something one of her family members had said and he realised that he would spend his whole life documenting which of all the things she did was the most heavenly.
"You're what makes me happy, darling," he mumbled, not expecting her to hear. She looked round at him, surprise on her face. He thought she might say something nice in response, but instead when she opened her mouth something else came out.
"You are so cheesy, Anthony Lockwood."
"I'm just getting started, darling. Like you said, I have a lot of grovelling to do. I hope you're ready for how cheesy I can be." Y/n wrinkled her nose in disgust, but the wide grin on her face gave her away.
"That sounded weird," she said, and he leaned forward to press a gentle kiss to her nose. He shrugged in response.
"You're just going to have to get used to it, I'm afraid."
"Good. Hopefully you'll finish all the grovelling needed by the time you're about thirty, then."
"I'm grovelling every second of every day if it means I get to keep you near me, darling," he replied, and he revelled in the flush that crept up her neck. He accepted his score sheet from Will (who was getting very serious about the game, making sure that nobody would be cheating by using loaded dice), and took a sip of tea.
Then he nearly spat it out when he fully registered what Y/n had said.
"Thirty?!"
part 8
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Tag list (once more hoping that this is everyone): @ahead-fullofdreams, @aislinrayne, @anathemaloren, @anthgoldenhrry, @augustisintheair, @avdiobliss, @aysha4life, @bobbys-not-that-small, @briar-rose23, @curseofhecate, @dangelnleif, @edible-rat-vomit, @el-de-phi, @ell0ra-br3kk3r, @ettadear, @fearlessmoony, @fudosl, @idkbubs, @imaginebeingmentallystable, @informedimagining, @karensirkobabes, @lady-ashfade, @light-23, @locklyebrainrot, @locklyle1kanij, @locknco, @magicandrosewaters, @mentallyillsodapop, @mischivana, @mitskiswift99, @mrsklockwood, @mrsyixingunicorn10, @newbooksmell777, @no-morning-glories, @novelizt, @phlooper, @ran23sblog, @reggiepeterss, @simrah1012, @somethingrandomwatzit, @star-of-velaris, @superpositvecloudshipper, @t2sh0, @taygrls, @tournesol77, @whistle1whistle, @whenselenefallsinlove, @wordsarelife, @y0urm0m12
let me know if you want to be added to/removed from the tag list! <3
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ennyxy · 1 year
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Did another belated thingie, tho I made it super silly this time xD I picked throne for day 2 and this one's bg is very simplified and sketchy but still took a bit. I'll include what drove me to do this under the cut, as well as just a couple hyper thoughts on WAD xD Also ye am reuploading this real fast cuz I'm a dummy, good thing I had a draft saved.
Oh also I totally forgot about the crack on King's skull when I posted this to Twitter but too late haha.
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This just made me think of s1 ep12 I couldn't help
ANYWAY I watched the finale and like, I loved it,and I may have been spoiled by the fandom cuz I felt a lack of moments between the kiddos and just Collector in the time-skip (he's there in spirit but still), n like many I'll just headcanon that Colly came back after a lil or they at least visit lots and eventually he'll settle there and he and King are besties n the usual, and like did you see that lil star sticker-bandaid thing King had where the crack on his skull is? Ye that was totes from Colly for sure you can't change my mind. Lemme dream I need these two to cope rn :") I feel like my life's been overtaken wish there were more fics to read
I rambled sorry ewhdfberv I'm just trying to comprehend stuff cuz I loved all the Collector screentime and development and stuff but so much of my brain's been dedicated to the kiddos lately that I think I've been spoiled by all the fan content
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heartbreakgrill · 7 months
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Black Paint; Vessel (Sleep Token)
a/n: i am so fucking proud of this and i hope you absolutely love it. pls don't anyone tell brittany or else i'll fucking kms. thx.
description: brittany broski and friends go see sleep token. the group's energy catches the attention of the band.
warnings: alcohol, smut, cringe wattpad y/n moment.
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“Hey, guys, welcome back to the Broski report. I’m your host, Brittany Broski.”
She rambled the words out breathlessly, smile void on her face. I stifled a laugh from the seat beside her, especially as I knew the camera frame would then focus on me. 
She slammed her palms down onto the table, peering over at me with a blank expression, “Bitch.”
“I know,” I shrugged. My lips were pursed together, shoulders shaking as small giggles forced their way out of my nose. 
“Bitch!” She tilted her head from the microphone so as not to disturb the sound mix. 
I pressed a hand to my lips, dying of laughter now. “I know!” 
“Listen,” she pointed at the screen behind us, “there is no fucking time for introductions because this bitch…just ruined my life by introducing me to yet another GROUP masked men I will not and can not have!” 
“I know,” I nodded solemnly, still giggling. “I’m so sorry for what I have done to you.”
“Sleep Token,” Brittany yelled. I flinched from the volume, eliciting a soft, “Oh!”
“Sleep Token, guys,” she repeated. “Listen…before we even begin, we have a disclaimer for you horny sluts.”
I licked my lip as I silenced my laughter, looking seriously to the camera. “We do not condone the search for the identity of this band. Let them exist peacefully. If you know who they are, and you comment it on either of our platforms, anywhere, you will be blocked. Be respectful, shut the fuck up, and keep the mystery alive, kay?”
“Kay. Moving on! Sleep Token!”
It was my first time being on Brittany’s podcast. I was honored to have been asked, considering she didn’t often have anyone join her. But, considering I’d introduced her to the band I was currently hyper-fixating on, she needed me to provide my personal testimony. We spent most of the video appreciating their music, pointing out our favorite drum parts, lyrics, and Vessel vocals. Of course, we thirsted over the band, too. Why wouldn’t we have? They were hot as fuck and we were just girls. 
And, of course, the video blew up. Her podcast segments normally did, but this one reached new numbers even she could not have predicted. At one point, trending on TikTok was a video of me saying, “I would literally let this man do dirty, nasty, terrible things to me that my mom would disown me for. Things only bitches did in that fucking town of Sodom and Gamora. God would literally come down and rain hellfire over my apartment after I got done with that man.”
I wasn’t necessarily embarrassed by the videos that came out after my clip went viral, but it was a little silly. I just hoped the band didn’t have secret accounts that they stalked fans on. I would never want to know that- but Ijust hoped and prayed it wasn’t sure. 
Soon after we posted the video, the band announced a new leg of a North American tour. 
And, of course, we spent a shit load of money to get tickets. 
The months drug on before it was finally time for the concert. 
“Shot?”
Brittany held out the glass vial towards me, a knowing smile- brows raised, round eyes suggestive- egging me on. Not that I needed it- tonight was the perfect night to get trashed. Of course, with Brittany, that was most night’s. When we had filmed for the podcast? Oh, we were smashed. 
“Duh, bitch.”
I took it from her hold, wrapped my forearm around hers, and shared a low cheer before taking the shot. Our other friend Sarah Baska, was ordering herself something at the bar. Meanwhile, the liquid burned the back of my throat, sliding down my chest in it’s fiery path. A natural lightweight, I felt warm immediately. It was also just really hot in here. 
I then ordered some mixed drink. Sarah got more, harder liquor, as per usual. And, Brittany did another handful of shots for the road. After, we headed for the stairs, giggly and anticipatory. We spent extra money on a private box, both to shake our asses in a spacious area, and to be able to enjoy the concert without being bothered by fans the entire time. It was nice getting photos with them and meeting people who looked up to all of us. But, tonight, it would be nice to just exist as normal people at a normal concert. Besides, we were all here for Sleep Token. I wanted them to get all the worship that they deserved. 
Not that this was a normal concert. This was, in any devoted fan’s words, a night of worship to the god of Sleep. This was a ritual. Tonight, I would be shaking my ass extra hard for the little dancing vessel’s on that stage who were so fucking attractive, I could drool. 
We found our seats quickly. I was grateful for the space away from the thick, sweaty crowds- it was hot in here, even though I was wearing next to nothing. I really didn’t want my makeup- done heavier than normal thanks to Britt- to run. I did, however, hope that Vessel’s paint would smear a little extra from this heat. That was hot. 
We sat down in our seats for a few minutes, gushing about finally being at this ritual. I sipped at my drink, finishing it faster than I thought possible. I tended to drink heavier when my pulse rate was this high. My chest was really warm now, and I enjoyed it. It loosened me up quite a bit. I wasn’t really introverted, but I had anxiety when it came to these situations. Liquid courage was always nice to have. 
I shed my jacket on the back of my chair, exposing my midriff and bare arms. It cooled me down a bit. Brittany was rambling on about Vessel and some video she’d saw on TikTok the night before. I went to reply to her, to ask to see the video, when a staff member interrupted us, “Excuse me, ladies-”
We looked up him expectantly. His voice was quiet against the loud chatter of the crowd and the pre-show playlist thumping through the speakers. I leaned in close to him and strained to hear his next words. 
“These seats have food and drink service. Would you like anything?” He graciously held out a menu.
We nodded enthusiastically and ordered another round of shots and cocktails. Just as he returned with the tray of drinks, after we occupied ourselves by watching a handful of videos on Brittany’s phone, the lights dimmed for the opener. I tipped the server as I joined the crowd, on my feet, hooting and hollering. We quickly down our shots. 
The opener was pretty good. Brittany, Sarah, and I danced along to the songs, clapped when gestured to, and took a few embarrassing pictures for us to regret in the morning. I liked to spin in circles as I danced, rotating my hips to the beat. I made a stank face while doing so, drink raised to the sky like an offering. Brittany and Sarah would hype me up, pretending to swipe stacks of cash over me like rain, leaning into my momentum with hollers. The more I moved, the more the alcohol took over. I was completely lost in the music. 
When the opener took a bow, Brittany, Sarah, and I screamed, loudly. Loud enough that the opener noticed us. They waved up to our seats. I jumped up and down, splashing my drink over the railing, on the floor below. I waved wildly. The opener then blew a kiss and I nearly melted. I felt like a little girl at a One Direction concert. It was awesome. 
As the crew began tearing down the openers set, and putting together Sleep Token’s, more music streamed through the speakers. The server scurried off to get us more drinks. 
Because the opener had noticed us- twice- a few people in the crowd turned to look up at our seats. Now that the overhead lights were back on in the venue, a bunch of fans started calling out our names, waving excitedly. As they did, I Wanna Dance With Somebody started playing and the energy in the venue lifted completely. 
I set my drink down in my cup holder, needing both hands to go absolutely feral over the song choice. As the first verse began, I grabbed Brittany’s fingers in my clutch, serenading her through viscous screams. I swayed from foot to foot, hitting each beat with my hips. As Miss Houston sang, “My lonely heart calls…” I grabbed the railing from behind me, leaned myself over it, back arched and head upside down, towards the crowd. Everyone freaked out at the stupid move I did. I was sure to see clips of it in the morning. 
Then, the chorus started, and we jumped around like raging lunatics. We clapped our way through the song, entertaining the crowd like we were the real show. Eventually, the crew seemed to be finishing up their work onstage. The music started to fade, the lights dimmed, and the stage lit up with bright blue. I picked my drink back up, screeching my head off as the music started.
I swear to god that the band could hear us screaming from our side of the venue, jumping around like children, holding onto each other like we just might fall over. We were louder than, probably, the rest of the crowd. They started with Chokehold, which made me nearly lose my sanity. Vessel strutted out onto the stage like a literal god, rings shining in the light, blackened skin already slick with sweat. I bounced up and down to every beat, waving my hands with the crowd, spinning in circles, downing my drink like there was no tomorrow. I didn’t focus too much on how good he looked, caught up in the music. But, god, did I know he looked insane. 
At one point, Brittany and Sarah turned their phone flash on. They switched between that and taking videos on their phones, giving me all the spotlight. They made it like I was the fucking main character of the concert. And, I loved every second of it. 
At one point, the bassist noticed our flashing lights and mini dance circle. He pointed up at us, nodding his head in appreciation. I screamed my head off in response, gripping the railing and whipping my hair. He raised his hands like he had to defend himself from my energy and slunk off to the other side of the stage. Brittany pointed the camera in my face, “How do you feel?!”
“I’m shitting my pants right now!”
The concert went by quickly, too quickly. IV interacted with us a bunch, too, especially after he’d scream his lyrics and we’d go wild. Vessel, unfortunately, avoided our side of the stage. He was so lost in the music which was, honestly, amazing to witness. His silly dances combined with his insane vocals made for a great show. 
By the time The Offering started up, Brittany, Sarah, and I were absolutely trashed. I wasn’t too far gone because I was started to sweat out what was in my system. Yet, I was nowhere near sober. Anyways, maybe it was because we were being obnoxious and loud due to our drunken states- Vessel finally noticed us. It was at the beginning of the song, when he sang, “Take a bite…’ It came out like an animalistic growl, chilling the audience. 
He pointed his hands towards our balcony, though I’d like to think he was really just pointing at me, and whispered the sultry lyric. I melted to the ground, head thrown back as I yelled. Brittany grabbed my bicep to ensure I wouldn’t fall any further. She and Sarah hoisted me back up. We cackled into each other’s shoulders annoyingly. Then, as the drums picked up, we began moving with the rhythm again. 
Before we knew it, the concert was over. Vessel raised his hands in a bow. Then, he looked around the crowd, found our seats again, and shot us a small smile. I took the opportunity to blow him a kiss, enthusiastically throwing it through the air towards him. He grinned in response, looking to his feet as he shook his head, before slinking backstage. 
I plopped back down into my seat, already cracking open a water bottle. My chest heaved for air. I didn’t even know how to process anything that had happened. All I knew was, “I need to eat so many fries right now,” I breathed out, sweat slicking my skin. I sipped the water slowly. I could feel myself sobering up more and more. I was a little more conscious, but so damn hungry.
Sarah was talking to some people next to us who she knew. Brittany sat beside me. “Vessel literally wants you,” she said, nonchalantly, like she had read it in that morning’s paper. “Like…holy fuck.”
I cracked a smile and wiped a bead of sweat off of my brow. I checked my reflection in my phone. Luckily, my makeup had stayed intact. I replied with a silly tone, “Don’t even get me excited like that. It’s rude.”
“No, cause, he kept looking up here after The Offering,” Brittany said in a matter of fact manner, again. 
“Really?” I sat up in my seat, “No way! I must have been dancing too hard to notice.”
“Oh, you were shaking your ass,” she snickered with a grin.
“Ugh, he’s fucking sexy,” I continued on. We stared at the stage for a moment in one of those silences where neither drunk girl could really formulate any relevant response. Then, I kind of tossed my weary arms around, “Well, doesn’t matter. I bet he, like, doesn’t even date.”
“No, but he def fucks,” Brittany emphasized. We leaned into each other, laughing loudly. 
Sarah turned to us at the sound. She plopped down beside me and went to add to our conversation, but the familiar staff member who’d been supplying our drinks was interrupting again. Though, this time, he didn’t have a tray of alcohol. 
“Excuse me, ladies,” his favorite phrase. We all looked up at him, curious. He didn’t have to speak so loud, considering the venue was clearing out, so it was easier to hear. Whitney Houston was playing again. 
“The band is wondering if you’d like to come backstage for some refreshments?” He asked so casually that it took my brain a moment to process the information. 
I managed to play it really cool, but internally, I was basically shitting my pants. Brittany, however, gaped at the worker. She slowly turned her head towards Sarah and I with a wild look in her eyes, seeming like she might scream at any given moment.
Sarah snorted, “What fucking fanfiction did we just get thrown into?!”
“I don’t know, but I fucking love it,” I gushed back, staring at the worker. “What the fuck.” He shrugged back at me. 
Sarah shook her head with an amused grin, waving off the worker, “Listen, yall go, have fun. My friends offered to let us go out with them, so I’m gonna split off. I don’t think I could mentally handle meeting them right now. I think I’d, like, puke all over them.”
“But, then you could say that you’ve puked on Sleep Token!” Brittany smacked Sarah’s shoulder, reaching across my body. 
“Go!” Sarah shoved back, squishing me further between the two of them. “Go, so you can say that you puked on Sleep Token.”
“Yeah, I fucking will,” I pushed up out of my seat, an eager energy in my bones. 
Brittany and I followed the worker down the stairs, clutching each other’s arms. He ushered us through the remaining crowd gently, though we had to stop to take numerous photos- and make the occasional TikTok- with fans. They gushed about our dance moves, our podcast episode. It made everything feel even giddier. We eventually made it up to the stage, where we were guided behind these large black curtains disguising the dimly lit area of the sides. 
The crew worked hard on getting everything packed up, put away. We skirted between all of them, trying not to get in the way of it all. I kept checking my reflection in my phone’s front camera to ensure I looked okay. Most of the sweat had soaked itself up and my perfume was long lasting. Hopefully that was enough to rizz up Vessel. Not that I was counting on that. It would be awesome, but I was actually excited to have a conversation with all of them. I would soon learn that was not what he wanted from me tonight. 
We went down another set of stairs and stopped before a closed door. Behind it, we could hear music playing over a speaker, a few sets of voices cheering and chattering. The worker knocked, kindly, and the voices cut themselves off. 
“Come in!” A thick British accent called out.
I took a deep, drunken breath as the worker turned the door knob. And, my stomach dropped when he pulled open the door.
Sleep Token sat, lounged out across their dressing room, on various couches. They wore those familiar masks, their stage costumes- save for a few layers- and clutched some drinks in their blackened hands. My eyes found Vessel last, who was leaning against the counter of the vanity, a drink sat beside his left hand. He had shed his cloak, so visible to us was his paint-smeared chest and back. I tried not to let my eyes wander too much- but they did. 
III stood from the couch, excitedly dancing his way over to the door where we stood. The worker abandoned us. “‘Ello, darlings!” III called out. 
He hugged Brittany first, bent down because of his insane height. As he did, I couldn’t rip my eyes from the slits of Vessel’s mask. I somehow knew that he was staring at me- probably because his distant gaze burned my skin. Then, III was pulling me into his chest, “It’s so lovely to meet you…”
“Brittany,” she gestured to herself, then to me, “Y/n. Dude, thanks so fucking much for having us! We had an absolute blast. Your performance is just- wow!”
IV and II approached us next, as III pulled us a bit further into the room. III busied himself with pouring us each a drink as we introduced ourselves to IV and II. 
“We’re so glad you had a good time worshiping,” IV cracked, hugging Brittany, “makes it all the more worth it.”
I grinned at his words as he embraced me, too, still occasionally glancing at Vessel. II added on, “Sure you’re exhausted from all that dancing. Have a seat.”
III wrapped an arm around Brittany’s shoulder, passing a drink to her hand, as he brought her onto the couch beside him. IV and II moved to stt back where they had been, probably assuming I was following. I clutched nervously to the drink III had given me. I may be drunk, but not drunk enough to not act stupid in front of men I wanted to fuck. The nerves were crashing down me instead, making me stoic, overthinking my own breathin. 
I looked back at Vessel, again, who had been quiet thus far. He held out a hand, an offer for me to come sit beside him. I hesitated, for just a moment, before taking it. His fingers were warm, even his rings, and I noticed that black paint smudged itself across my skin as I took my hand from his. I leaned up against the counter beside him as I admired the paint. 
III, IV, and II struck up a lively conversation with Brittany, full of teases and easy topics. I watched until I felt that burning stare on the side of my face again. I looked up at Vessel, a small smile forming across my lips. He returned the expression. 
“Lovely to meet you, Y/n,” his voice was just as deep as his singing tone. It sent a shiver down my spine. 
I shifted on my feet, glanced around, before returning his gaze again. “You, too, Vessel,” I took a sip of the drink in my hand. 
He chuckled down at me. My knees rocked. “So…you like Whitney Houston, yeah?.”
My face turned beat red at the realization that he had seen a lot more than I hoped. I pressed a hand over my face, groaning, “Oh, god. You saw that?”
Vessel brushed his shoulder against mine. More paint took it’s place there in my skin. “I saw everything.”
I crinkled my nose, “Ugh, that was just…I don’t claim to be a good dancer, just so you know.”
Vessel shrugged, “I beg to differ.”
Shaking my head at his words, I waved him off, “Don’t even…I just, like, throw myself around like a fucking rag doll.”
“No,” he drug out the word, deep voice reverberating in my chest, “no, you have some rhythm in those hips.” His head tilted down as he eyed my body. 
There was a beat of silence that passed between us. I examined his mask. I think I knew then that I wouldn’t be leaving until this man fucked me senseless, but my foggy, drunken brain thought still that maybe I was just being delusional. 
It wasn’t until he opened his mouth, again, that I was certain. He drug his tongue over his bottom lip, as though he was searching for the right words to say. My eyes followed the wet, pink organ with a blank stare. 
Vessel thought for another moment before leaning his mouth down towards my ear. He pressed his hand against my hip, fingers curling around my bare skin exposed there. His breath was hot against the side of my neck, though I shivered again. “I want to see how those hips would move on me.”
I flushed, bright red again, the alcohol making the heat on my blotchy skin worse. Vessel pulled away, a smirk ever-present on those pink lips, black staining the outer edges. It took all of my self control not to lick it clean, right then and there. I wanted him- needed him. And, he knew it. 
Vessel searched my eyes with that curl in his lips. I was unable to come up with a proper response. But, I think he found what he was looking for in my dilated pupils and rising chest. “Be a good girl for me? Yeah?”
Vessel offered up his hand again. I entwined my fingers in his, my own smile finally finding its place on my mouth. Vessel took my cup and chugged it, tossed it into the trash, and led us from the room. 
I followed like a puppy-dog, hot on his heels. He guided me so carefully, looking back occasionally to ensure I was okay. Then, he threw open a door at the end of the hallway we traveled down. It was dark in the room, with only a small lamp in the corner to illuminate our hushed desperations. Vessel locked the door behind us after he ushered me inside. He spun me around and forced himself against my chest, pressing my back against the door. It knocked the wind right out of me. My chest rose and fell as I took rapid, deep breaths. Vessel held me by my hip, again, thumb brushing against my bare skin gently. 
“Is this okay?” He whispered as he brought a hand to my face, cupping my cheek. 
I barely nodded, entranced by the stare coming from behind his mask. I had enough focus to touch my hands to his chest, though, running my fingers up and down his toned stomach. The paint smeared beneath my knuckles, revealing more of his pale skin. I watched it mix with our sweat with hopeless admiration in my gaze. 
Vessel looked down at my hands, too, a smirk still present on his face. But, then he forced my chin up, so my eyes were on his mask, and said, “Use your words, darling.”
“Y-yes,” I shuddered, voice breathless. 
Vessel pressed me harder against the door as our lips met, tongues clashing against teeth, hungrily. We moved together so easily, entranced by the other’s taste. I gripped at his sides, pulling me into him, arching my back to press my chest against his. Vessel’s hold tightened, too, and he ground my hips against his. 
I felt him get hard, quickly, the loose material of his pants allowing his erection to fully grind against my thigh. He was whiney, all gasping breaths, low moans, as I drug my fingers down his chest, dipped them through his waistband. I nearly got to feel him, but Vessel grabbed my hand harshly in his, slamming it up against the door, above my head. My eyes shot back open in surprise. I don’t remember closing them.
“S’all about you right now, darling,” he demanded, words against my lips. 
Vessel shoved his head into the crevice of my neck, nipping and tonguing at my flesh. My eyes dropped shut again, head hitting the door in a way that would probably hurt tomorrow. I had a feeling all of me would hurt tomorrow. But, I didn’t care. 
Vessel drug his fingers up my arms, leaving goosebumps in his path, trails of black paint like a roadmap amongst my freckles. He slid the straps of my dress down past my shoulders. Then, he kissed his way down to the arch of my breasts. He rolled the material between his teeth and sunk to the floor as he drugged it down my body. Vessel was on his knees below me. 
Vessel looped an arm around either of my thighs, nearly pulling my entire weight onto his shoulders. I clutched onto the top of his head, feeling some of his hair slip out from the cap he wore beneath his mask. It was soft, though just a bit sweaty. He glanced up at my bare breasts, smirking devilishly now
He admired my face as he said, “I watched you worship me all night. It’s my turn to pray at your altar.” STOPPED HERE. 
My head hit the door again as Vessel sunk his tongue into me. He had managed to tear my underwear down with his teeth and they were now laying across the room. I ground my hips into his face, back arching each time his nose would then rub against my sweet spot. I tried to be quiet at first, though small gasps and moans slipped from my bitten lips. 
But, then, Vessel stopped, eliciting a whine from me. He chuckled, lips slick from me. He darted his tongue out, smirking as he cleaned his mouth. He tilted his head in disappointment, “You were so loud for me earlier, darling. What happened to that good girl? I want to hear how good I am making you feel.”
I nodded, dazed, brows furrowed, fingers digging at his hair. The cap had fallen off his head at this point, but the mask managed to stay on. I was grateful it did. The mystery alive energized both of our primal desires.. 
Vessel watched my face as he pressed his tongue back up into me, running the tip of it down my entire core. I moaned, loudly, back arched into the cold air, nipples hard from the temperature and arousal. 
He chuckled into me, making my thighs shake around his head. Vessel pried me back open with his fingers bruising my skin. He continued on until I was close. I vocalized my point of no return, and he hurriedly spoke, “Don’t. Be a good girl and wait. For me, okay?”
I nodded wildly, clenching my stomach to deny myself of the orgasm. Vessel gently set my feet back on the ground. He guided me by the hips towards a counter. Easily, he picked me up and set me on it. It was freezing cold against my bare skin, but his warm hands, tongue, were on me soon enough. I took the opportunity to unlatch his belt, fingers moving hurriedly. Vessel moved to help me, tugging the pants down his thighs. 
Vessel then pushed me back from him, taking control again. He pushed my legs open further with his bare knee. Then, he grabbed me by the hips and tugged me down till my back was flat against the counter. His hand splayed across my thigh as he pushed himself inside of me. 
He was sloppy, quick in desperation as he fucked me. But, every thrust he pushed into me was strong, deep. Vessel wrapped my legs around his waist, securing me by the hip. His other hand drug itself up my chest until his fingers were wrapped around my throat. Black paint smeared most of my skin. There was even a ring around his mouth where the paint had transferred from his skin to my own. I don’t know how we would manage to keep this rendezvous a secret from everyone else with the state we were both in. But, right now, I couldn’t care.
Vessel leaned himself overtop of me, his forehead against my chest. Though, he was dominating me, he was so caught up in the pleasure that he was starting to quickly come undone. I touched his back, nails digging into his skin. He tossed his head back at the sensation, neck exposed to me. I eyed the veins protruding from his skin. 
He smirked at me when he noticed I was staring at his neck. He growled, “Take a bite.”
I held one hand, tightly, to his shoulder, keeping him steady as he fucked me. But, I gripped the back of his head with the other. I was slow at first, nipping at his neck gently. Vessel’s thrusts were becoming sloppy with each bite I took. I was close, too. So, I opened my jaw further, taking a pinch of his skin between my upper and lower canines. I bit down, hard. 
“Fuck!”
He quickly pulled out and came on my stomach. As he did, I felt myself come undone. Vessel pressed his forehead against mine as we rode out our high. We came down from the top and he gave me a sloppy kiss. 
There was a bitter cold left on my skin as he stepped back. I hugged myself, finally taking in the black paint covering my skin. “Oh, god,” I laughed. 
Vessel pulled his pants up. He looked at my body, grinning, “Fuck. That’s so hot. Darling, if we had more time…”
“I know,” I smiled up at him. 
“Here, there’s a bathroom over here,” Vessel spoke as he finished buckling his belt. He offered me his hand. 
I followed him into the side room. He found a washcloth on the side of the sink, clean and unused, and wet it with warm water. Vessel gently pried my hands from covering my body and busied himself with wiping down my skin. He focused on what would be visible: My arms, neck, hands, face. I watched him while he worked. It was fucking hot when he was dominating, disgustingly dirty. But, this, this caring demeanor? I’d fuck him again in a heartbeat. 
When he was finished, he rounded up my dress, shoes, and underwear. He turned away, without a question, while I dressed. I was no longer nervous, so I wouldn’t have minded if he watched. But, he was respectful. 
“Okay,” I breathed out, pulling my final dress strap back up and over my shoulder. 
Vessel faced me. I was finally able to take in his face and had to cover my mouth to stifle my laughter. He frowned, slightly, confused by my laughter. “What? What is it?”
I touched his shoulders, forcing him to face the mirror. His head pulled back in shock at his appearance. 
I kept laughing and Vessel peered down at me with a tilted head. “Keep laughing, darling.”
“I’m sorry,” I shrugged, “it’s fo fucking funny.”
“What’s funny?” 
I yelped, trying to duck out of the way as he jolted towards me. He caught me by the waist, rattling me around in his hold. I giggled, loudly against his chest, trying to twist out of his hold. His mouth was near my ear as he teased me, “Not so funny now, huh?”
I rested my forehead to his shoulder in my fit of laughter. Vessel calmed his movements, just holding me against him now. “It just goes to show the mess you make out of me,” he murmured against my ear, lips pressed to the shell. 
I looked up at him and pointed a warning finger, “Don’t do that.”
“I know,” he huffed as he tossed his head back in frustration. “We should be getting back.”
“Sadly,” I wrapped my arms around his neck. 
He admired my face for a few moments, silent, until he smiled softly, “Can I get your number?”
“Maybe,” I rolled my eyes. “I don’t know, I kind of like to just fuck and dump, ya know?”
“I won’t let you do that, darling,” his voice dropped low again. 
“Okay, you’ve gotta stop doing that or I’m never going home.”
Vessel cupped my cheek in his hand, nearly void of paint, “I’d be okay with that.”
“I’m gonna walk away now.”
Vessel didn’t let go, however, as I made a move to step towards the bathroom door. In fact, he held me tighter. He pressed another kiss to my lips. “Can’t go anywhere looking that, darling,” he twisted me around to face the mirror, long arms cradling my waist. 
I reached for the washcloth and wiped off my face. I faced him again and cleaned up his mouth, just enough so that it wasn’t completely obvious he’d eaten me out. We spent another moment teasing each other, eliciting more giggles from my throat. But, we figured we should get back. 
So, he took my hand again and led us back down the hallway. I flushed red as soon as the door was pulled open, considering the entire band and Brittany snapped their heads towards us. 
“Way to leave your sister!” Brittany exclaimed, holding up a cup of what could only be whiskey. “Dude, you’re missing out on some insane stories right now. Come, sit.” She patted the couch next to her. 
I glanced up at Vessel as I took my hand from his. II, IV, and III greeted me with kind eyes and small greetings. “Hey, sorry,” I said as I plopped onto the couch. “He was just showing me the, uh…”
We hadn’t come up with an excuse. So, my words fell off my tongue with no resolution. Vessel shoved his hands in his pockets, quickly stuttering out, “Backstage. Just the backstage area. She wanted to see how everything works.”
Brittany nodded, oblivious to the elephant in the room. “Dope. You’ll have to show me next.”
“We can do a group tour,” IV offered. 
Everyone agreed, enthusiastically, and we all stood to pile out the door. III and I were the last ones seated. I met his dark eyes, smiling kindly at him. His gaze dropped to my thighs, brows raising beneath his mask suggestively. 
I followed his eyes down. Where my dress had ridden up my thighs was a long line of smeared paint, not to mention reddened hickies that were starting to sprout up. I pressed my lips together and quickly tugged the material down over my legs. 
III patted my knee as he stood, “You were the one going crazy during The Offering, love.”
I gaped after him as his words lingered in the air before me. Vessel stood just beside the door, awaiting my presence. As III passed by him, he took Vessel by the chin and tilted his head. 
He tsked at the bruising bite mark on Vessel’s neck. I shoved my face into my hands, face beyond burned.
III whispered, “Take a bite.” 
It wasn’t until a few days later, when Brittany and I were hanging out, looking through concert videos with nostalgia, that she found out. I was nervous to tell her. Besides, Vessel and I were starting to see each other, so I didn’t want to expose his private life too much. I trusted her, but I just overthought it all. Apparently, though, I hadn’t enough overthinking.
I had just made a post on Instagram, making the photo we took with the band the cover photo for a dump. It blew up immediately. Brittany and I were reading comments as they came in, dying of laughter at some of the shit people were saying. 
“No, hand placement is so real!” Brittany exclaimed. She shoved her phone in my face, showing me the zoom-in of Vessel’s hand on my hip. I blushed and shoved it away. She kept scrolling. 
“Wait,” her voice trailed off. 
I glanced at her and watched as her brows furrowed. She tapped around, zoomed in a bunch, scrolled through comments. I looked back to my phone just as a new comment began blowing up with responses and likes. 
User- so is no one gonna talk about vessel’s paint on y/n’s thigh and her very obvious sex hair?
“YOU FUCKING BITCH!”
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