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#second of all i have no apologies
softspeirs · 1 month
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on leave
A/N: Obviously this goes without saying that there's almost no historical basis for this interaction to happen, except that there's a brief window of time in the late summer of 1943 where Easy and The 100th could have interacted... but that's why I love fanfiction. Thanks to @basilone for enabling me. Meet my BoB OC Kat Gray. You can learn more about her in Barren Soul. No pairing for this fic except a hint at something if you take a cue from Bucky Egan.
"You know, it's nice that the Airborne finally decided to show up." Bucky says, tilting his head and gesturing with his glass.
They've been back from Africa for two days, and the brass decided everyone could do with some leave. They've got a few days in London while the new replacements arrive, and it seems that half the units in the US Army had the same idea.
This pub in particular is packed with soldiers, airmen, and civilians alike.
Next to him, Cleven and DeMarco share an aggrieved look.
"What?"
"Can you just--" Gale straightens his jacket, leans in, "--try not to start a fight? For once?"
"Don't count on it." Bucky grins.
A roar from the corner of the room grabs their attention, and they shift on their barstools to watch how the game of darts is getting on. There's a new addition to the roster, Bucky notices.
"You're a cheat!" A man says, and the woman in question raises her eyebrows.
"When have you ever known me to be dishonest?"
"The last time you gave me stitches and told me it wouldn't hurt."
She rolls her eyes. "That was an accident, and you're too sensitive, Luz."
"Interesting." DeMarco says under his breath. "You ever heard of a woman in the paratroops?"
Buck smirks. "What, you haven't read the papers? Experimental unit."
"Any girl who can jump out of a plane is alright in my book." Bucky says, as he takes another gulp of his drink, "Probably a little crazy, but alright."
They interrupted by a First Lieutenant who looks like he's already had a few, but all the same, he squeezes in on the other side of Benny, signaling the bartender. "Majors, Captain." He says, two fingers at his temple in half-hearted salute.
"You with the Airborne?" Bucky asks, louder to be heard over the band.
"101st."
"100th Bomb Group." Buck says, holding out his hand to shake. "Gale Cleven. This is Major John Egan and Captain Benny DeMarco."
"Lewis Nixon." The man says, a few pints set down in front of him by the bartender. Nixon looks up in thanks and then turns back to the men in front of him. "100th Bomb Group... you're flying B-17s, right?" He whistles. "I wouldn't know what to do with a plane like that."
"Jump out of it, probably." Bucky says.
"Nix--" a female voice interrupts them, "Need a hand?"
The woman in front of them is brunette, her hair tightly pinned and tucked beneath a garrison cap. Bucky instantly straightens, grin firmly in place.
"I wouldn't." Nixon mutters, giving Bucky a look out of the corner of his eye. Turning to the woman, his face softens a fraction. "This is Corporal Kathryn Gray."
Introductions are made, and Bucky can't help himself. "What's a girl like you doing with an outfit like this?"
Her eyes narrow, and he gets the feeling he's put his foot in it, though he was just trying to be funny.
"A girl like me?" She asks, her tone neutral, but that steel look in her eyes. "What am I like?"
"Christ." Nixon mutters, running his free hand over his face.
"What?" Gray asks. "Just making conversation."
"Just starting trouble, more like."
"Funny," Buck says. "We just had a similar conversation. He elbows Bucky in the ribs.
"All good over here?" Another Lieutenant appears, this one shorter, eyes hard. His reddish hair and sharp jaw make him stand out among the rest of the group, but Bucky's not stupid enough not to notice the way they're all glancing over to the bar, prepared to close ranks if needed.
He holds his hands up. "Just fine, Lieutenant--"
"Welsh."
Benny interrupts, ever the peacemaker. "Gray, what line of work you in? We were reading about the women paratroops in the paper the other morning."
She turns to Benny with a smile, and Bucky frowns. He had asked the same question! Well, he asked it his way, and Benny has that unassuming way of talking. Even though they're both from the Midwest, somehow Bucky just doesn't come off as disarming as his friend from Chicago.
"Medic," she says proudly.
"Tough job." Buck says quietly, though his lips are quirked to show he means no harm. "What made you go that route?"
"Dad's a doctor. And I wanted to help." She says simply.
"Kat!" A loud voice bellows from across the room.
"Duty calls." She says dryly. "Majors. Captain." She looks back at her own Lieutenants. "Sirs." She says, but it sounds sarcastic. Bucky blinks in surprise at her tone.
Welsh and Nixon both grumble and roll their eyes, neither of them making any move to admonish her.
"She sure made that sound like an insult." DeMarco says.
"Word to the wise, in case you ever find yourself with a woman in your unit-- and you will, soon enough--" Nixon says, "She'll call you by your rank, but don't for a second think that means she takes you seriously or will listen to anything you say."
"And it's useless to try." Welsh says, and holds up his glass for Nixon to cheers.
"Sounds like my kind of girl," Bucky agrees under his breath, and gets another sideways glance from Nixon before he makes his excuses and heads off with Welsh, the both of them greeted with cheers, slaps on the back, and sounds of approval from their guys.
"He was right--" Buck says. "I wouldn't."
Bucky frowns. "What do you mean?"
"Over there." Buck tilts his head in the direction of the opposite corner of the room. At a table with one other man, there's another Airborne Lieutenant. Dark hair, darker eyes, and he's tracking Corporal Gray as she moves in the room.
"Huh." Bucky settles back into his seat, elbow on the bar behind him.
Buck turns around, chuckling when Bucky curses under his breath. "Better luck next time, Romeo."
Bucky watches as Kat Gray as she flits between her men, an easy smile on her face. They nudge her and crack jokes, and all bravado aside, he can see why she fits right in. These guys clearly care about her, and she about them.
She shows it with a quick touch to one mans arm as she leans behind him to talk to someone else, as she winks at another guy who rolls his eyes and nudges her in the arm as he claims the seat on her right.
A half hour later, they're getting ready to clear out when Bucky sees her approach, an armful of empty glasses in tow. She sets them on the bar on the other side of him, and nods her thanks when he takes the last few from her hands.
"How long left on your leave, Major?"
"Just one more day. Then it's wheels up." He says, his smile not quite reaching his eyes.
"Good luck." She says simply. "I can't imagine what it's like up there."
Bucky feels the smile slipping off his face, but he does his best to try to keep it up. He doesn't want to think about flying right now. He doesn't want to think about Curt, or Buck flying in on no engines, none of it.
"You take care on the ground and I'll do my best in the air, okay?"
"Yes, sir."
He can't help it, he laughs. At her confusion, he grins. "I have it on good authority that when you say sir, what you really mean is--"
"Don't finish that sentence," Buck says, amused. "Corporal. Have a nice night. Good luck."
"You two, Majors." She says, and then she's off, a Sergeant and Nixon waiting at the door for her.
He sees the Screaming Eagle on her arm as she goes, and he shakes his head. "Lady medic."
"You're gonna need a medic if you don't get to bed soon." Buck mutters. "Let's go."
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egophiliac · 9 months
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swipes everything else off of the table to yell about diasomnia flower bookmarks
(I gave Silver one too :D)
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#art#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland spoilers#white rabbit festival#me: oh boy i wonder what excitement will happen in this new part#characters: now it is time to buy souvenirs :)#me: oh god#jk jk even when the filler is kind of painful i do enjoy the little character moments#like everyone screaming as loud as they can into silver's watch#deuce busting out his suzy izzard impression#SMASH IT WITH A HAMMER!#and of course silver assigning flowers to the other dias and getting all sappy over lilia. god. delicious.#you don't understand this ten second long scene is everything to me#though we all know the real highlight#the knowledge that 1) deuce used to have an extremely silly edgy badass nickname#2) he almost certainly gave it to himself#3) he harassed epel's extended family to the point that they told horror stories about him and he was briefly epel's personal idol#epel: i heard he once killed three men with but a look#deuce: what no i never...i mean...ha ha sounds weird nothing a model student like me would know about#also deuce: if you fuckers don't apologize to my mom right now i'll fucking kill all of you (sees dilla) uhhh i mean#deuce: i challenge you to a children's game#black bunnies leader: (strapping on his duel disk) i accept#meanwhile silver is running full speed at a group of children screaming to them about donuts#we aren't going to talk about what ortho did with that fantasy-gregg's sausage roll#so glad that we've reached the 'what the heck is even happening' portion of the event#anyway i completely screwed up the resolution of these so here's hoping they don't look terrible!#whoops!
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cozylittleartblog · 1 month
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400% sure he would love steven universe
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ryuusea · 3 months
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Too much sweets. More sherliam modern au doodles.
You know, I don’t think I’ve actually ever had Swedish Fish, but I’ve had shark shaped gummies.
Also included the WIP of the close up shot of Sherly and Liam leaning in together because I’m fond of it. I like the tension I was able to show there. 🤭
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oddly-casual · 8 months
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Mutant Mayhem spoilers
It’s such a small moment and maybe I just have brain rot or something but in the beginning when Splinter is talking abt why he hates humans it’s Mikey specifically that chimes in with that little “you don’t know that.” And just UGH
Even just by his tone you can tell that he knows his words aren’t going to change anything because they’ve had this conversation too many times. But also Mikey was the one Splinter almost lost that day, like if Splinter was any slower Mikey would’ve been gone.
And you just know in the minds of children Mikey equated their isolation from humans as being his fault because he almost got ran over as a baby.
Like I don’t wanna say it because sometimes leads to unnecessary angst, but children who grow up isolated from everyone else believing that they can’t confide in their parent often blame themselves for their parents decisions.
Donnie and Raph back talk and make fun of Splinter the most but Mikey does it like once and Leo does it never. So you can tell Leo and Mikey don’t get upset with their father, they get upset with themselves for the way things are and I just
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martyrbat · 2 years
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batman: the knight #6
[ID: Bruce Wayne crying after shooting someone. He throws the shotgun down and stutters out, “I d-didn't- I didn't have a choice, I-”. The man he shot warns him, “you may not even survive...” as Bruce starts to sob. END ID]
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turtleblogatlast · 1 year
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[ cw: death mention / ]
You know, sometimes I think of all the moments Leo was ready for death, and how his last words each and every time were never goodbyes.
I’d like to think that, each time, he had an innate hope that things would turn out okay.
He grows up to be the world’s greatest ninja, after all.
And a ninja’s greatest weapon is hope.
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cathalbravecog · 9 months
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veep dad comfort art
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smile-files · 5 months
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there's something interesting to be said about how nickel's female friends have to constantly school him on how horrible he is but animationepic won't say it
#melonposting#spoof#<- kinda#ii neg#<- also kinda#i hate nickel. i need to kin balloon just so i can experience dropping nickel into that stupid cereal box pit#also y'know what to those people who think nickel loves clover... you're right he is kinda obsessed with her#in that he hates her so much for something that he wants (being a likable/good/happy person) <- according to my interpretation anyway#of course he doesn't want/know how to put in the effort to have it#suitcase screamed at him (as she should've) and that didn't go through his thick skull#only clover in her infinite gentleness and grace could let him know that perhaps he should say sorry for harassing someone all their life :#and even then it isn't sincere#like please don't tell me any of you took his 5-second bizarrely emotionally intelligent notes app apology seriously. good god#like i dunno it was just like clover said to apologize and he said 'on it boss'#or what are we just gonna believe that ae was like. y'know what? this guy just needs to say he's sorry#once#out of nowhere#and we won't have to worry about the horrible things he's done to people (cough cough suitcase)#like heck even if balloon accepts this bs it doesn't do jack for her (not like he should anyway)#this idiot's just so far in the socioemotional gutter that after doing a series of horrible things (which he's been made well aware of)#he'll only so much as acknowledge that he did them if it means he gets friendship points from ae's princess celestia#good god man you're not the leader of a stupid team anymore. get over yourself#the funny thing is that the only excuse for his writing lately is basically a headcanon on my end#i'm just reading into this nonsense. as far as i know he's just being written horribly haha#he's interesting to think about in the lens of 'guy who wants to be happy/good/likeable but does not actually care about anyone'#but if i'm being honest with myself to ae he's just 'jerk who's actually nice now. no he isn't. yes he is for real this time (believe us)'#whatever i need to go to bed
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skoulsons · 1 year
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Analyzing?? :) This is a long one again. And their second scene at the end of episode is really just gonna serve as a second parter to this bc there’s CONNECTIONS. I was going to make a cut and put this all below it, but tumblr was like deleting it so..no cut
“Ah, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.”
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Immediate reaction to her applying pressure to his wound is to grab her, hard. She reacts to it, hence her swears because he’s hurting her. But she would never tell him to stop because he’s in a lot of pain and can’t get it out any other way, so she lets him. But I think Joel recognizes he is hurting her. When it cuts to Joel’s face (possible continuity thing, but we’ll say no for the sake of overanalyzing bc this is my blog), he just has the side of his hand pressed, albeit hard, against her arm as opposed to gripping it. He recognized he was hurting her and tried to change to keep from continuing. He’s also trying to be quiet despite his very obvious need to scream about how much pain he’s in because he’s bleeding out with no medicine, no clean materials, and nothing to even try and disinfect his wound with.
“Come on, you gotta help me. Come on!”
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baby, he is in a lot of pain. I don't know how much more pressure he can add. But I also think, in a way, she’s saying this to keep him awake and giving him something to do while she goes upstairs to look for something. She can’t have him passing back out, not with a life threatening injury, so she tries to give him something to do.
And something else (and I’m not the first person to recognize this), he’s trying to be quiet still. He could scream blood murder because he wants to because this hurts, but he’s trying to
“Leave. Leave.’
“Shut up, Joel.”
“Take the gun-”
“Joel, shut the fuck up!”
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He is begging her to leave. Pleading with her as much as he can muster to get out. To leave him. To grab the rifle, because she can shoot, and go. He was just trying to leave her last episode because he was terrified for her and her safety because he knows he’ll kill her. And now, he’s begging her to leave him because he may kill her like this. It’s a harsh winter. She is giving him their warmth, food, and water. She is not taking care of herself the whole time because his life is on the line, and he is what matters. And knowing there is infected out there and people who she is all alone to defend herself against? She is capable to an extent, yes, but not to a group. Him being out like this could kill her, and he can’t risk that, not a single chance of it, so he tells her to leave him. Because he can’t fail her again, and dying while she’s still with him and not safe with Tommy is yet another fail.
And she tells him to shut up because what else is she supposed to do? She knows he’s trying to push her away because he just did it like a week prior to this. He can’t let people care about him, let alone letting them in in the first place. And this tiny, little girl was let in (with a little shove against that hard exterior of his) and she cares about him, more than he understands. That feeling being mutual and oh so complicated. No one since Tess has cared about him like this. But it goes deeper than that because this is a kid. His kid, now. She shouldn't ever need to do this or want to do this, but that’s the circumstances of their world, and he can’t help that. He can’t help the size of her heart or the fact that she cares so much about him because he did first. Through his protection, reassurances, and selfless caring in how he treated her, she grew to, too. And he never wanted that. Even now, the two of them being a ‘we’ now, she still shouldn’t have to because he’s the caretaker, and he’s failing.
“You go. You go. You go north. You go to Tommy. You go.”
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This. This is a father’s anger. The absolute certainty and seriousness and the listen-to-me attitude. He needs her to leave. Because, like we’ve all discussed on a number of occasions, she is his weakness and he is her strength. And he does not believe he is that to her, especially not on the level he truly is. But beyond this, he needs her safe, as I already mentioned. So he grabs her and pulls her to him so she sees and hears him. He shakes her his second “you go” because he needs her to listen to him. He needs her gone, as much as it kills him to. But her safety is his first and highest concern, even if it means separating. He is willing to be separated from her and die alone in a cold basement if it means she gets to safety and is able to fulfill her journey.
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This is after he shoves her and there’s already the glimmer of a tear in the corner of his eye. He does not want to send her away. He wants to be responsible for her. He wants to stay with her. He wants to hold her and he wants them to be okay. But he has to, for her safety. He reacts with force and he shoves her away, rejecting her care. Rejecting her help. And he just shoved her. Joel “ever so gentle with his little girl” Miller just shoved that little girl away from him, and that hurts.
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Even after being shoved away from him, she doesn’t walk away in anger. No. No, she stands and lets her hand fall to his, just to brush against his. Despite being angry, upset, fearful, and pretty amazed at the fact that he’s still trying to get rid of her and won’t let her just take care of him, she lays a brief hand on his. Comfort? Reassurance? “You’re an asshole, but I still love you”?
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And she moves to his coat, which I imagine she took off to better access his injury, and lays it across him. She evens it out across is abdomen and brings it all the way up to his chin to keep him as warm as possible. And Joel (pedro you mastermind I hate you) looks in…disbelief? Absolute unparalleled love at her that she loves him just the same? He just physically shoved her away. He has been nothing but physically gentle with her their whole journey, and now he just grabbed and shoved her away to reinforce his point. And in response, she quickly touches his hand and then lays his coat over him, covering him up to the chin. She is kind to him even after what he did, what he’s trying to do, and it’s almost insane to him. He’s used to violence. He’s used to using force and being given force back. And when he uses every ounce of power he has to use that force against Ellie to push her away, he is met with her kindness and unending care for him
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They watch each other for a minute, no spoken words, and Ellie walks away. And he sheds a tear watching her go. His breath gets rapid and shaky, in part because he’s cold and losing blood and dying, but he’s watching her walk away and thinks she actually is going. That she is leaving. That they’re done, for good. That this little girl that is so important to him and that he loves way, way too much is leaving. And he watches her, thinking she’ll be the last thing he gets to see before he dies. He burns her into his memory, so that even after she’s gone and safe, a part of her is still with him. That he can picture her clearly in his mind to keep coming back to as he fades away.
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And Ellie waits at the top of the stairs, but only for a moment. She waits. Does she think about what he said? Maybe for a split second, but no more. She needs him, but more than that she wants him. She wants to keep going with him. And, as much as he may hate it, that means suffering through it at his side and freezing through the nights just so he has a chance of surviving. She sits on what he told her, but she won’t listen because It’s him. Because It’s them. And that connection, that relationship, is worth it all
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heybaetae · 23 days
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hi
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isekyaaa · 4 months
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While Rozemyne is a dense doofus, I do get the concept of doing something you perceive to be very logical and reasonable with someone else and then having literally everyone assume it's romantic.
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solomonssock · 1 year
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You Will Go Nowhere Else
I never planned for this to be so long, but I love Asmodeus sm...expect nothing less from me.
Pairing: gn!reader x Asmodeus; Leviathan makes an active appearance, but isn't the focus of this fic (romantic feelings are heavily implied, but a relationship has not been established...yet)
TW: Cyberbullying, Slutshaming, Cursing, Alcohol use (Asmodeus is an emotional drinker), Suggestive (Its Asmodeus), unspecific yet hinted spoiler for those who haven’t reached level 20, Asmodeus (and all demons) can be possessive, and I’m trying to figure out demon mannerisms I’d like to establish so bear with me on this awkward journey
Word Count: ~4,700
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
So-called "weak" human subduing the Devildom's demon lords? It's more likely thank you think! WATCH OUT... YOU COULD BE NEXT!
Scoffing to yourself, you click off the Dreaddit thread to scroll through whatever else you could find under the "d/human" tag. You expected to make up some of the content, given that you and Solomon were quite literally the only two human exchange students in all nine circles. Yet, it wasn't any less unnerving that most of the top posts seemed to circulate around your "mysterious relationship" with the brothers.
At some level, you understood their fascination and hesitation with you. Your lone quest to free Belphegor during your first year was essentially the equivalent of what would happen if a lone demon managed to ensnare some of the Earth's top leaders under their command. You just wished they didn't have to be so mean about it.
This budding Dreaddit addiction of yours had started the evening prior, courtesy of Leviathan.
"ROFL, what an idiot!"
You two spent a good chunk of the night lounging on his extra-large beanbag chair, surfing Dreaddit posts under "d/R.A.D. memes" on his premium account. Leviathan had excitedly showed you his avatar's exclusive Ruri-chan t-shirt, emphasizing that 9.99 grimm a month was a necessary sacrifice for otakus everywhere, or at least those truly passionate about their fandoms. As his loyal Henry, you'd been privy to sensitive information regarding his identity as both creator and moderator of both the "d/TSLMerch" and "d/RuriChanUpd8s" forums.
"Levi," you chastise, “leave Mammon alone. This is already embarrassing enough."
A user by the name xXLuciferz_LegionzXx had uploaded footage of the second eldest being chased through the school halls by Cerberus.
"I-it's his own fault!" Levi defended. "He shouldn't have tried running off with the Council's debit card."
And try he did.
You watched as the video replayed from the beginning. The shaky scene followed Mammon as he rounded the corner in front of Potions Lab 3 with Cerberus hot on his tail. Looking backwards as he sprinted through the crowd of students, he failed to notice Lucifer already blocking the doors at end of the hall.
You cringed as the familiar "MAAAAAMOOONN" blew through the speakers.
Realizing his fuck up, Mammon skidded to a near-stop to pivot into the hall just before Lucifer. But it was too late. Cerberus, determined to catch the focus of his master's ire, latched onto his pantleg, and quickly pulled him back.
Except, only Mammon's pants went with him.
The video ended with the poor demon being pantsed as Lucifer menacingly appeared before the videographer.
After viewing it for the fifth time, you made a silent promise to treat Mammon to some lunch and TLC time this upcoming weekend.
"Levi. Please?" You sighed and pouted your lip a bit for good measure.
"F-fine, if it's that important to you." Flustered, he clicked off the video and flagged it for inappropriate content before he selected the home page.
"Thank you," you leaned your head on his shoulder, "I appreciate it."
A small squeak left Leviathan as he ducked his head further into his hoodie and kept scrolling.
"Oh? Levi, what's that one say?"
On the screen was a picture of you and Satan sitting together in the library. The time stamp confirmed it must have been taken this past Tuesday when Satan helped you review basic Enochian phrases. He'd recommended taking the language for your free elective this semester and offered to serve as your tutor.
Your brows furrowed as you looked at the post's heading.
"...who do they think they are?" You murmured. "What do they mean by that?"
You hadn't gotten any further as Leviathan quickly shut his laptop.
"Hey, I forgot I bought a new co-op farming-dungeon crawler game I thought you would like. Let's check it out!"
Without warning, he had popped up from the beanbag and headed straight towards his console to set up the controllers.
You gasp sharply as you finally reach the exact post Leviathan had hidden from you last night. Visibly uncomfortable with discussing how you ended up on the top page of Dreaddit, you didn't push him for more details. His diversion occupied you for some time as you kicked slime monster ass and planted dewdrop berries, but the curiosity lingered in the back of your mind throughout the school day.
After dinner and watching an episode of "One Day I Woke Up Reborn as An Oven: One Piping Hot Pie of Existentialism Coming Up!" with Leviathan, you'd returned to your room and set up a basic Dreaddit account. He wasn't kidding, the ads were no joke. Every two to three posts you clicked on led to an ad-break or brand deal, sometimes featuring even Asmodeus or Mammon as a model.
"Ok yea, maybe I'll look into getting premium."
You chuckle to yourself as an ad for DevilGlam Lip Balm in the shade RedRose pops up for the third time and wonder if Asmodeus got to take samples home from the shoot. Because if so-
"I'm definitely gonna ask to borrow it." It was pretty cute.
Exiting out of the ad, you save the picture of you and Satan. Despite the fact that it definitely wasn't meant to be seen by you, the intimacy layered within the shot warmed your heart. Focused on the heading, you had missed the adoring smile curled on his lips as you fumbled through past and present conjugation.
However, you don't miss that this was posted under the "d/Sa10Stans" tag. A peek at the authors username, SatansS0ulmate, is warning enough that you are entering dangerous territory. But the temptation is too great.
You scroll through the comments.
HellsKitchenette: There the human goes again, running through the boys each week like a common whore. I've caught them just begging for attention, it’s pathetic.
RADRum: UGH, I have them in seductive speechcraft, and they're just so annoying!! If you can manage a pact with nearly all of the fucking student council, you can figure classwork out for yourself, slut.
You click on the thread you see forming with over 300 replies and at least 150 upvotes.
DearDeerLights: Wait, what do you mean nearly all the student council?!?!?!
HellsKitchenette: Oh, you poor thing. You didn't know? They've managed to trap our boys, all seven of them.
GroundGossamberry: ACK! You guys scared me, I thought they had gotten to Barbatos or something! But seriously, how pathetic can they be... like having to be coddled in public? Not me, I'd rather drop dead &lt;3
Solomonssock: I see I'm outnumbered, but isn't this a good thing? The whole point of the program is that the human is supposed to study with us. And the lords are their host-family. I don't see anyone in the comments giving Solomon such harsh treatment.
RADRum: At least Solomon carries his weight around. Like come on, after a fucking year of being here if you can't go out by yourself then don't come out at all is all I'm saying.
GroundGossamberry: Yeah...I wouldn't fuck with Solomon; I've seen him in potions. He's brewing liquid death.
HellsKitchenette: Solomon's strength and wit makes him increasingly more bearable, and I admit, dashing. This one...well, there's simply nothing special about them. Anyone who witnessed Lord Leviathan's TSL Quiz last year can attest to the fact that they were all coerced into these contracts. Honestly, the human should be ashamed.
You stop there, your throat constricting in response to your rising panic.
"...oh fuck." Hearing the wobble in your own voice, you swallow thickly and sit up from your bed. Exiting out of Dreaddit, you hurriedly delete the app and set your DDD face down on your bed, tripping over your fallen sheets as you scurry out of your room. You need water, or anything really, to stop you before you start spiraling.
You make the short trip to the kitchen and pour yourself a glass with shaky hands.
It doesn't take a genius to infer that you wouldn't be the most popular person in all the Devildom, but the pure vitriol of the subdreaddit had been a higher dose than you anticipated. Truthfully, the focus on you was the least of your worries.
You shotgun the glass, the cool liquid gliding down your throat and easing the tension that had started to build.
You admit you and the brothers still hadn't fully sorted through the emotional muck that releasing Belphegor had unleashed. You felt assured that your pact with Lucifer was mutual, but Leviathan, Mammon, and the others took precedence in your mind. Did they really feel that way?
Trapped?
The pit in your stomach, persistent and pernicious, prevents you from returning to your room to wallow in your worries. Instead, you pass through the now empty dining hall and open the door to the music room.
The grandiosity of the room isn't lost on you. The gold detailing, polished to perfection, reflects your shaken image. You take up so little of the room, and yet you are suffocated by it.
Shuffling over to the piano, you drag your hands softly over the keys, each muffled note bouncing around the room in short bursts. For a minute or two, you loom over the instrument, dragging out each note, trying to sort a melody from the emotional medley consuming you.
For the outcomes that had transpired the year prior, you were certain you had no regrets. The hatchets had long been buried - at least that's what you led yourself to believe, wrapped up in the arms, and roped into the plans, of your lords once more. The sacrifices and secrets of the past were all to mend a family in danger of falling apart. And yet...
You crash your fist onto the keys, rolling your knuckles into a harsh trill.
The nagging guilt you had thought to have laid to rest creeps up again, coiling tightly around your heart. Its weight drags you forward until your forehead presses against the dark wood. It cools your skin, flushed from the few tears you'd allowed to fall.
You had been reckless. Dived into matters that long existed before you ever did, took the mantle of master of the seven lords, and yes, deceived them to do so. The many times they have attempted to wrong you in the past is not lost on you. But, in the end they are demons, and you are no devil.
You strain to lift your head from the wood and turn to face the mirror beside you. You scoff at your own pitiful appearance. Surely, Dreaddit would have a field day if they could pick you apart now, crying over the grief of your own guilt. Without your lords, you know, you are weak. What good is unbridled power without belief in oneself? You stand proud in a world you were not born to wander because of their faith in you, your dear seven pillars. The thought that you have wronged them wounds you deeply. If they ever came to ha-
Abruptly, you slap your cheeks against your cheeks and stand up from the piano bench. It would be unfair, in the face of your regrets to be so bold as to assume their feelings. Regardless of the past, they have taken you in with open arms, adopting you as part of their family. You are here now, with room and board because of their desire for your return and continued stay.
After a deep breath, you pad over to the large windows stretched across the back of the room. You take in the foliage that surrounds the manor, and chuckle to yourself when your gaze happens upon Cerberus taking Belphegor for a walk. You are so happy, that he is here and whole, that their family is here and whole. You are so happy, yet feel so terribly guilty that you sob deeply into your hands.
You startle as the door to the music room is thrust open.
"Darling, are you in h-", Asmodeus stands in the doorway. Even with his hair in slight disarray, he is gorgeous. The panic in his voice, in his eyes, tapers off as he takes you in. In its stead, bleeds in worry.
"Oh, dear." Softly, he shuts the door behind himself.
Desperately, you wipe at your eyes. It's no use, the puffiness and ragged breath would quickly reveal your miserable state to any being. But you try, and try, and try.
He emerges before you, but still, you hide your face in your hands. Asmodeus's own hands reach for your arms first, but only his fingertips graze you as they test how you respond to his touch. You freeze, but don't step back. The thought of rejecting his touch, even when you feel so unworthy, is agonizing.
"I had wondered where you'd wandered off to." His hands move downward, fingers coming to dance across the expanse of your waist.
Knowing you cannot hide forever; you sniffle and rub at your eyes one last time. You're not ready to meet his eyes, so you don't. You occupy yourself with his hair, hands coming up to push back the soft strands that had fallen out of their usual place. You two stand like that for a moment: the moon casting an ethereal glow on his champagne hair as your fingers coil into its thickness to ground yourself.
The moment cannot last forever.
Fingertips press against your jaw, gently guiding you to face him. You want to run and hide, not bare to him this weakness. Not in the music room, and especially not on a Friday night. Or was it Saturday morning by now? You haven't a clue how much time has passed. Yet, you stay, drowning in pools of light orange that plead for your attention.
"I called, several times might I add, but you didn't answer!" With the dramatic flourish you've come to adore, he sighs and blows away the fringe that has fallen into his face from your ministrations. You try to bow your head, avoid his disappointed gaze, but he holds you firmly in place. His face inches closer, you two nose to nose as he whispers against your lips, "I was soooo worried."
The faint whiff of demonus on his breath lets you know Asmodeus had gone drinking after dinner tonight.
"I went to your room as soon as I got home, but you weren't there." You reach up and press your hand against the one he leaves curled around your jaw.
"Mo," Your heart clenches as tears begin prickling at his eyes. An uneasy and desperate expression you haven't seen since that time overcomes him.
"You left your door open", his cheek presses into your other palm as it moves to cup his cheek, "your sheets were on the floor and your DDD was just there on the bed. Levi said he hadn't seen you since after dinner-" His own sniffle interrupts him, and although you feel you haven't the right, you unfurl his hand from your jaw to press a grinning kiss into his palm.
Your Asmodeus, such an emotional drunk.
"I'm ok."  you whisper against his skin. The pout he forms cues you in on the fact that he heavily doubts that statement. His free hand trails up from your waist to trace the tear stains covering your cheeks. You can feel yourself tremble and will yourself to remain strong for the both of you right now.
You are not the only one laid bare tonight.
"Please, don't leave us,” his head lolls forward to rest on your shoulder with ease. You sigh, threading your fingers through his hair in soothing motions.
"MC," he whines into the junction of your neck and shoulder, "I can't lose you again."
"Mo," you gather him into your arms as much as you can, hushing him tenderly as another whine escapes him, "Asmodeus, I'm here."
His arms wrap tight around your waist, pulling you flush against him as he mumbles, "MC, promise...no. Pinky promise me you won't go! That you'll stay here forever with me." He rocks against you, swaying you both side-to-side.
Forever?
"A-are you sure-," he attempts to pull back from you, a noise of protest escaping him at your lack of immediate reassurance, but he quiets as your hold on him tightens, "are you really sure that's fine? Could you bear me forever, despite everything?"
You realize as his hands smooth themselves up and down your sides, that you were already shaking.
You know these worries have no place here. This should be a conversation when emotion has not fully overcome the both of you. But nothing is perfect, and nothing is planned when it comes to him or any of his brothers.
 "...bear you? You think you're a burden upon me?" Asmodeus's wounded tone affects you more than you care to admit. It strips you of the willpower to stop him as he pulls back from you a second time.
You try to stutter out a response, but you can't deny it. Asmodeus cocks a hip, expecting a response, but you look away from him. How selfish you are, you think, to have once again made the matter about you. That train of thought doesn't last for long, however. You quickly whip your head back up to face him as an unmistakable oppressive force creeps over the music room and caresses your spine. All at once, discord strikes as random notes are ripped from each instrument. 
"Sweetheart~" 
Asmodeus is smiling, but dread washes over you as his glamour begins to shimmer and shift.
"Come on, don't ignore me! Who put such a silly thought in your pretty little head?"
His true form pulsates beneath, ready to burst in response to his building annoyance. Glimpses of his wings, wound tight as they flicker back and forth reveals his worry. This display isn't to intimidate you and now would be a good time to say something to appease the demon. But it's embarrassing to admit to the fifth born that complete and utter strangers, demons whose opinions shouldn't matter when you have his attention, have turned your thoughts to the worst.
"Hmm, should I go have a chat with Levi?"
"N-no! It has nothing to do with him."
"No?" Asmodeus's form seems to settle as you finally respond. Only brief flickers occur as he moves past you, sitting on one of the chairs placed in front of the window.
"Then, why is my precious little human in tears?" 
You take in a deep breath. He will not let this go, and you are too tired to form a believable excuse.
"I'm just overthinking, Mo. Really, I'm going to be ok."
"Ah," Asmodeus's eyes crinkle softly as he catches the weakness in your statement, "but you aren't ok now." He motions for you to join him on his lap, but instead you take the seat beside him, leaving the table as a barrier between you two.
He hums to himself, and before you can register it, he sits himself on your lap and threads his fingers through your hair. Replicating, you realize after a long stretch of silence, the pattern you had used on him just minutes before.
"Don't hide your lovely face from me," he whispers against your ear, fingers curling around your jaw again, encouraging you to face him. When your eyes meet, his soften.
"What is it?"
"I.." You begin, but he stops you, clicking his tongue as your gaze starts to trail away from him.
"Mm-mm," when your eyes are firmly focused on him and him alone, he lets out a light purr that rumbles against your shoulder, "there we go, eyes on me."
"Mo, are you really ok with things as they are?"
"Well," he grins at you, shimmying in your lap, "this view is fine for now. But later I'd rather admire you from my bed."
You scoff at his attempt to lighten the mood when he knows you are being serious, but feel your cheeks flush, nonetheless.
"You know that's not what I meant."
"Then what do you mean, darling?" You gulp as his pupils begin to constrict into sharp slits.
"You aren't implying that I'm unsatisfied with you or our current standing, right?" To any untrained ear, his playful lilt suggests a question. However, Asmodeus's tightening grip on you solidifies it as an accusation.
"No, no," he lets out a sickeningly sweet coo, "certainly you understand that your place is beside, over, or under me."
As you sit stunned by the possessiveness that floods his tone, he presses a kiss on the corner of your mouth.
"And you will go nowhere else."
"I-I-" Of all the brothers, Asmodeus had teased you the most with being something more than whatever this situationship was. But how does anyone respond to such a forward declaration - from the Avatar of Lust, no less?
"Oh, sweetheart," Asmodeus adjusts his grip to delicately cup your face with two hands, cooing at you as you tremble more under his touch, "my favorite human is never a burden. Hmm, if you keep having such ugly thoughts, I can't be held responsible for what I'll have to do to distract you. I'll fill your head aaalll with me and me alone, ok?"
"Asmodeus, I'm serious."
His eyes flash, and your heart flutters as a low growl reverberates from deep within his chest, "As am I."
Deciding to change tactics, you wind your arms around his waist.
"I'm not going anywhere, Mo. I don't want to be anywhere else." You rub his back gently in an attempt to reassure him and assuage his fears. You wait until his pupils dilate some before you continue.
"I'm happy here with you, with all of you. I just want to make sure you're happy too."
"Aww, of course I'm happy!" Asmodeus wraps his arms across your shoulders and rests his head atop yours, "I have our sweet MC all to myself tonight."
You sigh heavily, feeling the way he shivers slightly at the drag of your palm over his spine. He's backing you into a corner.
"I feel like you deserve better than me." His breath hitches, but he says nothing.
"I was...thinking of the past. I thought I had no regrets coming here, studying here, becoming Solomon's apprentice, making pacts with you all..."  You halt, feeling Asmodeus's nails dig into the fabric covering your shoulder.
"Yet, you regret them. Your pacts with us?" He hisses.
"Never!" You're shocked with the strength of your denial. With the way he jolts, you guess the finality in your tone surprises Asmodeus too. His head lifts from yours, gaze locking onto your own.
"I don't regret our pact, just the way it came to be." You expect disappointment, anger, even annoyance. But all there is, is Asmodeus's amused expression in response to the confession you'd fretted over the past who-knows-how-long.
"How so?" His knowing little smirk irks you just a tad.
"What do you mean, "how so?"!? I deceived you, all of you, to free Belphegor."
Asmodeus's shoulders begin to shake with laughter. Flabbergasted, you try to find words, but all evade you.
"Deceived the deceivers! Our little human, so powerful and persuasive." Asmodeus mocks, swooning in your lap.
As he finally quiets down, he swipes a manicured thumb over your bottom lip.
“Mm, was I not clear enough then? No one, not even Solomon, has ever made me feel as powerful as you do." His thumb presses down, parting your lips.
"I can't speak for my adorable brothers, but you wanted a pact, and I desired your power. We both got what we wanted and," a hand returns to pet your hair, "maybe even more than we bargained for?"
You snort in disbelief. Your demons, always keeping you on your toes.
"Yeah, something like that."
Asmodeus giggles, pressing a kiss onto your cheek this time.
"No need to get so worked up. Should I go to Lucifer to arrange a family meeting? If you're that concerned, we can take turns," his fingers glide down from your hair to cup the back of your neck as he whispers, "reciting the vows of our arrangement."
"T-that's not necessary, Mo! I get it!"  You squirm in his hold and pout. Always such a tease!
"You're SO cute when you're all pouty. But I've suffered enough tonight by your hand, don't you think?" He hauls himself off your lap and takes a moment to stretch in a manner that is all too slow and all too intentional.
You melt at the mirth swimming in his eyes and wonder why you were ever worried to begin with. Forever, was it? Forever has a nice ring to it.
"Oh, forgive me, dearest. However, can I make it up to you?" Theatrics, your shared love language.
"Well," he begins, giddy when you get up to follow him out of the music room, "a nice long bath together should be enough to soothe my aching heart."
"Not too long," you chide, "your breath reeks of demonus. You need to rest."
"Reeks?!" He squeals and you laugh.
"Aww, I get it. You're worried about me! Oh, I always knew we'd be a perfect match." Asmodeus links his arm with your own and tugs you towards the stairs. You resign yourself to your fate, you don't want to sleep alone tonight anyway.
"Mo." You tsk.
"Fine, fine. We both need our beauty sleep, but I'm keeping you to myself aaalll day tomorrow." You take the time to make sure he doesn't stumble over any of the steps.
"And what will we do then?" The scent of roses floods your senses as you both enter his room. It seizes you whole, fills your lungs, and leaves you entranced. It smells like Asmodeus's signature perfume.
It smells like home.
Asmodeus reaches into his dresser and pulls out a matching set of pajamas. "I believe movies and massages are in order." To your surprise, he also pulls out a matching set in your size.
 "Romantic comedies?"  You can't stop the grin that splits across your lips.
Some time ago, as Mammon and Leviathan argued over whether to watch action movies or a live action rendition of TSL, Asmodeus had curled himself into your arms. Hidden beneath the covers of your bed and in between a stolen kiss or two, he'd confided that drama had once been his favorite genre. But in your absence, romantic comedies had occupied his time. The loveable leads reminded him of you both and the endless joy your unique and unexpected relationship brought him.
"You know me so well~" Asmodeus purrs.
"That does sound nice." You walk over, taking the pajamas from him to set them side-by-side onto his bed.
"Of course it does," Asmodeus tugs your arm and you move to join him in his bathroom, "I always know what you like!"
You move his hands away as he tries to undress you. He pouts but acquiesces, turning away from you to undress himself and slip into the bath.
When you finish undressing, you turn to find him with his head tilted back on the tile and at peace. You admire him for a moment, thankful that such a stunning creature had opened his fragile heart to you.
He doesn't move until you sit beside him, bubbly water sloshing side-to-side.
"So, you'll stay?" His head finds purchase on your shoulder, fingers tangled with yours beneath the water. You lay your head atop his own, pressing a kiss to his locks.
"For as long as you'll have me."
"So," he kisses your shoulder in return, "forever?"
"Forever is fine."
A soft trill escapes him. "I'll be sure to take good care of you."
You sink deeper into the bubbles with a hum.
 "I love you." He murmurs into your skin. 
The warmth sinks into your bones and pulls you deeper into relaxation. You could fall asleep here.
"Hey!" You yelp at the little nip he gives your shoulder. “Tell me you love me too."
You laugh, picking up his head to push your foreheads together. The adoration in his eyes makes your belly all warm and fuzzy. You feel safe here. This is where you want to belong.
"Love you too, Mo."
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