~When the fastest player on the pitch goes down with a potential ACL tear, your world stills.
W.C 1.8k
Warnings: ACL Trauma Drama, HQ cameo no one asked for, angstiness, mentions of injuries.
Your VIP lanyard sways back and forth as you rush back to the suite overlooking the fifty yard line. Apparently, taking advantage of the full fridge of complimentary drinks in the kitchenette makes one have to go to the bathroom at the worst possible moments during their boyfriend’s game. Through her shades, the suite's guard recognizes you and nods, wordlessly opening the door for you to slip inside rejoining the other significant others of the Japanese National Team. It’s eeriely quiet as dozens of hands press against the glass window. All eyes on the pitch below.
Too worried to breathe, you slide back into your usual post, taking a quick peak at the scoreboard.
It’s still tied with nine minutes to go… Thank goodness. In the playoffs, missing even a second of the game is risky. Although Hyoma may forgive your bladder for doing its job, you are less likely to do so if it means missing a big moment.
As the ball is thrown in from the sideline, you spot your boyfriend right away. His long, gorgeous magenta hair whips in the wind as he books it down the right sideline. His cheetah-like speed never ceases to amaze you as well as the flat-footed outside back tasked with marking him.
The scene ripples slightly behind a heatwave, one that even you can feel from the safety of the air conditioned suite.
Despite the scorching temps, the crowd is just as lively as ever.
Flags bearing the Club’s logo in the fanzone haven't stopped waving since kickoff and the cheers and chants keep coming, growing in volume as the ball gets passed up the left side of the field and carried into the other team's defensive third.
“This could be it,” whispers the boyfriend of one of the center midfielders as you press your forehead against the glass, trying to get as close as possible to the action on the pitch. The leftwing attacking midfielder dribbles downfields, fighting off a defender as he looks for someone to cross it to.
You already know that someone is there.
Rearing back his leg, he sends it across the field with a long, beautifully arched cross, one that sails over the head of a centre back and right to the foot of your sprinting boyfriend. His first touch was something that dreams are made of as he cuts the ball to the left, ready to shoot.
Before his laces make contact with the ball, the centerback from earlier recovers, sliding in front of the shot so quickly, one would think he was coated in oil.
He takes Chigiri out just as he shoots the ball with his fully extended right leg.
You don’t see the ball go in. You can only watch as he hits the ground.
The stadium erupts in cheers as the whistle blows, but Hyoma doesn't get up. The camera zooms in on him, an expression of pure terror on his face as he clutches his knee. your heart freezes mid-beat.
“Oh. You don’t think it's his ACL again, do you?” Someone asks out loud only to be silenced by a shush. You don’t need to take your eyes off the field to know that everyone else in the suite is looking at you.
The moment the athletic trainers rush onto the field medbags and a stretcher in tow, you grab your bag and exit the suite. Your feet tear across the carpeted floor to the elevators that take you directly to the tunnels by the locker room. It isn’t until you reach the privacy of the sealed aluminum cage, you let out a shaky sigh. Your eyes pulse with tears as you wonder what awaits you once the elevator reaches the bottom.
~
You arrive outside the training room just as your boyfriend enters. He’s upright, walking with the help of two training assistants.
His cheeks are ruddy and his hair is caked in sweat. But that’s not what concerns you, its the steel resolve on his face as he tries to stay strong for his team. But once he meets your eyes, it shatters.
“Leave us for a second.” he says to the training staff once they help him to the table. They nod and exit the room and you rush into his arms. He gives himself to you completely, shoulders heaving as he squeezes you tight, like you’ll disappear if he lets go. “My leg.” He mumbles against your skin. “I heard a noise.”
He’s told you about his first tear and how it nearly destroyed him. If it weren't for the Blue Lock Project, he probably would’ve given up on soccer completely. But he had also told you that he overcame his fear of another injury.
But facing your fears doesn't mean that scary things just won’t happen to you.
His whole body shakes as your shirt becomes damp with tears and sweat. “When I said I didn't care if it tore again, I never thought…I.”
Your mouth goes dry. What do you say to people in moments like this? You hold him tighter, pressing your lips to his overheated forehead. “I love you,” you murmur at last. “I’m not going anywhere.”
He pulls away slightly looking up at you, there is something in his expression click. And despite it all, the corner of his lip turns upward slightly. “Thank you,” he breathes, finally looking down at his knee. It’s scraped and a bit grass stained, but it doesn’t look to be swollen. Then again, you wonder if you would be able to recognize an ACL tear in the situation.
“Does it hurt?”
He shakes his head. “No, I asked about it and they said that it could be shock or adrenaline or both.”
“Do you-” you pause, not wanting to ask the million dollar question. “Do you think it’s the same thing as before?”
He shrugs, tucking a stray strand of hair behind his ear. “I don’t know. Honestly when I heard the sound, the popping. I was more scared than anything. I just was thinking about how when I was younger I thought my life was over. But now, I have so much more to lose.”
“Whatever happens, we will figure it out together.” You say, catching a glimpse of the athletic training staff patiently waiting outside in the hallway. “Do you want them to come back in and find out?”
He exhales, long and deep nodding slowly. “ Waiting isn’t going to change the result.” Raising a hand, he beckons to the staff to come back in.
An athletic trainer you haven’t seen before enters the room, they look young but serious. With tan skin and dark cropped hair.
“Mr. Chigiri.-“ The trainers' eyes flick to you and then back to your boyfriend. “ Would you like them to be here for this?”
”Yes, I want them to stay.”
The trainer nods, and directs you to sit down on the stool next to the observation table. “Then please have a seat while I perform some tests. I understand we’re worried about a potential second ACL tear.”
Just hearing those two words has him gripping the edge of the table until his knuckles turn white. “Possibly. All I know is when I extended my leg I heard a pop and I felt something give.”
As he goes through a handful of tests, your mind is foggy with concern. You don’t breathe and neither does your boyfriend. Not unless instructed to do so by the athletic trainer who diligently checks off each test on his clipboard. You have no idea what any of the checkmarks on the sheet mean, but the suspense is killing you.
Finally, after about 15 minutes of testing. The trainer sets down his clipboard and grabs a bag of pebbled ice from a nearby cooler.
“So, what do we think?” Chigiri asks, pressing the bag against his knee, still too nervous to flinch from the cold sensation.
There is a sense of relief lighting up the man’s eyes. “We can’t be sure until you have an MRI, but the lack of swelling and the current range of motion of your tibia indicate to me that a tear was not likely.”
The room seems to brighten as you both breathe in the sterile air like its mountain fresh.
“Really? You’re sure?” Hyoma asks cautiously. “But what about the popping sound? I thought that was a sign.”
The trainer nods, “A popping sound in the knee can be associated with an ACL tear but in your case, I believe the sound could be attributed to scar tissue from your previous injury breaking down during a sudden extension of your knee.”
Before you have the chance to process the good news, the trainer's radio buzzes and his brows furrow. “Ugh, nosebleed. It looks like one of Aiku’s dates of the week found out about the other three and clocked him.” he shrugs. “I’ll schedule an MRI for you first thing tomorrow morning. For now don’t extend your knee fully. I’ll pass it on to the coaching staff that you should sit out for the next week just to be safe.”
“Thanks,” your boyfriend’s voice breaks as the trainer makes a swift exit. The door clicks shut as the pressure is let out of the room. His shoulders heave as he shakes with pent up emotion. You spring from your seat and cross the room with three swift bounds.
Who said he was the only fast one in your relationship?
“Hey, are you okay?” you ask as he looks up at you. Tears coating his long, delicate eyelashes as he takes your hand. Squeezing it like it’s a lifeline.
“I-i think so.” he nods, slowly taking the icebag off the knee. “It doesn't hurt at all. Nothing like the first time. I feel like it was the shock of it all that got to me.”
“That’s understandable.” you say. “After everything that has happened I think anyone would be thrown off.”
He swallows, blinking furiously to still his features. “I’m grateful. For everything.For you, soccer, my legs. There are so many people out there who had to give up on their dreams because of things outside of their control and I still get to keep going.”
His introspectiveness continues as he stares deep into your eyes.
“When I first went down and I heard the pop, I was angry.” he exhales sharply, eyes blazing fuchsia. “There was so much more I could’ve done during this game. If I am going to go out like that. I want to make sure I leave everything on the field.”
“You’re incredible, you know that?”
He shakes his head. “You’re incredible. The moment I saw you in the hallway, a part of me knew that maybe my life wasn't over. Even if things weren’t actually okay, you weren’t going anywhere.”
“I’d n-never.” you stutter, as he takes your hand and presses his warm lips to your palm. The light tickling sensation trailing to your pulse. Staring into his magnetic eyes, you are aware of just how much it races as he smirks coyly.
Hii Lou, hope you're doing well!! I saw your recent updates and I just came here to say: please don't feel pressurized to write! Life is pretty hectic most of the time and it's okay to take a break when you need it. You shouldn't feel bad for not posting, we're okay with waiting for as long as you need!
I hope you're taking care of yourself first and foremost
baii love ya
Hello 🥹
Thank you so much for taking time out of your day to send kind words over the interweb!!! 💞
I do need to get a bit better at taking breaks unapologetically, but on the other hand, I need to carve out time to do things that spark joy like writing!
First and foremost, I would like to just say hello. There has been quite a few changes in my life lately that has made writing difficult. But I hope to at least post once every week or so.
I have too many little projects and commitments that I can’t bring myself to forget about! Including all those Valentines Day Dates. They’re coming. I just need my work schedule to stop changing every other week so I can set aside time to type!
Anyways, thanks for sticking with me these past few months as my posting schedule has flown out the window. I see the light as the end of the tunnel and I hope you enjoy whatever silly little romances I post on here! 💞
Which Character gets a little something written for them this week?
Part 1 Featuring- Tanjiro Kamado, Inosuke Hashibira, Kyojuro Rengoku, and Giyuu Tomioka
Part 2- Coming Soon
Part 3- Coming Soon
~Replacing Masao, you are now tasked with repairing and replacing the uniforms for the Demon Slayer Corps
a/n: I've fallen a bit behind with writing lately. My work schedule has been changing weekly and I am completely exhuasted. I hope to get back into it and post the next two parts for this soonish!
Intro:
The land belonging to the Ubuyshiki family is even more impressive than what you were told on the train ride over. As two identical white-haired girls lead you through the well-tended grounds, all you can hear is the deafening beating of your heart as you anxiously prepare for your new life to begin.
Being a seamstress from a small village, you never thought your life would take such a turn. But all of that changed once a demon found its way into your shop, nearly taking your life. During the scuffle, an oil lamp was knocked over and your shop was lost to the flames.
If it weren’t for the Demon Slayer Corps’ timely arrival, you’d be dead. Your desire to repay your debt led to you offering them the only thing you had left, your skill with a needle.
“Mother is just ahead, Father isn't feeling well so she will be meeting with you instead.” The girl on the right says, her porcelain-like smile matching her sister as she points down the path. “Welcome to the Demon Slayer Corps.”
You thank the girls and hesitantly enter the main building of the estate. Where Amane Ubuyshiki awaits, her soft smile calms your nerves as she greets you. “Welcome, We are very grateful that you have chosen to join us.” Through her spirit-like beauty and cordial charm you detect a flash of amusement. “You certainly came at the right time, for we find ourselves short a member of the sewing division. Apparently their conduct towards the female members was rather inappropriate.”
You nod, recalling something you heard from the team of slayers who saved you. “I promise you will not have those problems with me. I prefer it when those who wear my garments feel comfortable.”
She laughs at this. “I certainly hope so. With your skills we wish to keep you here at headquarters, repairing uniforms for not just the Corps Members, but for the Hashira and their Tsuguko as well.”
This feels too good to be true, the Hashira are the pride of the Demon Slayer Corps. Is it really fair that you, a newbie, get the honor of serving them personally?
As if sensing your hesitation she reaches out and touches your hand. “I’ve seen your work. With your skills you could’ve gone anywhere but you chose to join us despite knowing the risks that come with it. You will live comfortably here.”
“Thank you,” you bow, eyes turning glassy from the motherly praise. “Then I accept this position with honor.”
“Wonderful,” she stands. “I must see to my husband now, but one of my children will take you to your quarters. I am sure you are tired from traveling. If you need anything, do not hesitate to ask. I shall come visit you soon.”
She leaves, and you brace the wall for support as you realize just how special of a position you now find yourself in.
~
Tanjiro~
It's a quiet afternoon, the only sound in the courtyard aside from a few chirping birds is the water from the fountain crashing onto the flat rocks at its base.
With no repairs or new uniform requests to keep you busy, you take a moment for yourself, finding a cozy spot on the engawa to catch up on some reading.
Lost in the pages, you are ready to let the rest of the day pass you by, when a cheery voice calls out to you from the pathway leading up to your quarters. “Excuse me? Do you have a moment?”
Your eyes reluctantly leave the story and follow the warm voice. He looks familiar, dark hair and deep burgandy eyes that gleam like gemstones in the midafternoon light. When he hits you with the full force of his ernest smile, it clicks. This is Tanjiro Kamado; the Demon Slayer who fights alongside a demon.
Although you have heard tales of their strange situation, you find yourself on edge, weary of the circumstances that allowed the Master to grant him leniency.
Is it really true that Nezuko won’t harm humans?
What ever doubts you have, fade as he gets closer, his eyes filled with a genuine warmth that seems to encompass his entire being. “Hello, how can I help you?” you ask setting your book aside for later.
He stops, cheeks darkening as his eyes dart from side to side. “Do you do repairs aside from the Corps’ uniforms?”
You nod and notice for the first time the bag around his arm. “ I am capable of doing other projects, but Demon Slayer Corps’ sanctioned uniforms do take priority.”
His face falls slightly, but he forces it back up. “Oh, I see."
Guilt paws at you from inside your chest and you are quick to reassure him. “That being said, I really don’t have anything to work on right now. What is it that you need?”
Sheepishly, he opens the bag pulling out a stunning light pink kimono with an asanoha pattern. He holds it out to you, but there’s a tenseness in his fingertips that prevents him from letting go of it fully.
This garment must mean a lot to him.
“This is beautiful, may I see it?” you coax the fabric from his warm grasp. When you do, you notice that there are rather large, curved gashes that have torn through the beautiful pattern; Claw marks. “Oh my.”
“It’s my sister's,” he explains, “I-I tried to repair it myself but, as you can see it’s a bit beyond my skill level. Do you think you can fix it?”
You inspect the claw marks, diving headfirst into work mode once again. For most people, you would tell them that a job like this wouldn’t be worth it. But seeing the hundreds of other careful stitches that litter the fabric, you know that this is no ordinary kimono.
It has sentimental value.
You feel as if you are burning alive under his dark red gaze, at long last, you nod with the well-earned confidence that put you in this position in the first place. “I can fix it, I can start right now if you’d like.”
His eyebrows shoot up in surprise “Really? You would do that?”
You nod again, “Something this precious deserves to be restored.”
He looks like an eager puppy as his scarred hands clasp around yours. “Thank you so much, you really have no idea how much this means to us.”
In all of his excitement, you find your faces just a finger's length apart. The proximity is flustering.
Even more so for him when he realizes what he had just done. He lets go of your hands, his cheeks turning deathly red. “ I’m so sorry, I got carried away and~”
“ I understand,” you say, holding up the kimono ready to take it back into your shop. He takes an unconscious step forward but stops himself.
“If possible, would it be okay if I watched? I would like to learn for next time.”
“Of course,” you say, heart skipping a beat as he follows you inside showering you with more gratitude and praise than you know what to do with.
Inosuke~
Sunlight spills though the paper windowscreen, warming your face as you open the bento the girls at the Butterfly Mansion brought for you. It seems that they had plenty of dealings with Masao and are over the moon that you are now the one in charge of all their future uniform alterations.
The amazingly prepared lunch couldn't come at a better time, for you have been hard at work all morning long, repairing uniforms for a squadron of Slayers who had a vicious training session with the Snake Hashira. If it weren't for Obanai’s reputation, you'd chew him out for creating so much work for you.
You have never seen so many rips in your life.
The tips of your fingers ache and you turn your attention to the window facing toward the gardens. It is such a beautiful day, you may as well work with the doors open so you can inhale the sweet scent of the blossoms on the breeze as you eat.
When you return to your seat you notice that your bento seems to be missing something. The rice ball Aoi made just for you.
You scan the table, but find no trace of it.
Did it somehow roll onto the floor?
You bend down, feeling highly doubtful when, just below the wooden table, you come face to face with a large boar with bright blue eyes, and completely lose your shit.
A scream (yours) fills the room as you fall backwards. The boar, strangely enough, instead of charging you, does the same. Its hands and heels pushing off the floor as they back themselves against the wall.
Hands? Boars don’t have hands?
They also don’t carry swords and rock an eight pack.
Shame burns your blood as you realize that this isn't a boar at all, it’s Inosuke. The Demon Slayer who uses ‘Beast Breathing’ stilling your racing heart you take a moment to catch your breath.
“Inosuke? What the hell are you doing in here? You can’t just go sneaking up on people like that.”
.”Didn’t know you were so jumpy.” He raises his arms to his head and pulls off the boar head.
Holy shit
Out of everything you were expecting he was hiding under there, you certainly weren’t expecting that!
His face is absolutely stunning, sharp cheekbones and an almost dainty looking chin. Compared with the scarred and muscle physique beneath, you feel like you’re staring at two different people fused into one.
But before you can get lost in his unexpected beauty, you notice something stuck to a corner of his mouth. A piece of rice.
He ate your rice ball!
“Aside from helping yourself to my lunch, is there a reason you came here?” you ask, crossing your arms. He has the decency to look a bit guilty as he shakes his head.
“No, just sensed there was food,” he says confidently. “And I wanted to see what was in here.”
You weren't expecting such a straightforward answer. And it kind of throws you off balance. “Oh, well I have a lot of work to do so I guess you can look around.”
As you eat through your lunch and start mending the first of many small cuts on the next uniform, you find yourself aware of Inosuke poking around your workshop, opening sewing kits and holding the different sized needles up to the light with fascination before placing it back in its designated spot, asking questions along the way.
It’s strangely peaceful to have a company like this and you find that you are working much faster than earlier. Eventually, he comes to sit across from you, tracking each stitch you make with his eyes, completely enraptured by your skill.
Maybe he isn't so bad after all.
Giyuu ~
Now where did that thread go?
You scan your workstation as you set the pants you have been working on back on the table. The young woman who requested them was one of the many female slayers who was treated poorly by Masao, the previous member of the sewing department, and was over the moon when you told her you could replace her chilly excuse for a uniform with something a bit more comfortable.
Finding no trace of the spool, you push back your little stool and look down on the pristine wooden floor. “There it is,” you murmur to yourself when you find the delicate ink-black bundle. You reach down, in attempt to scoop it from the floor, but find that it is just beyond your reach.
Since you were already halfway down there, you decide to let yourself fall completely off the stool and onto the floor so you can finish the pants, be dubbed a hero, and rest for the rest of the evening.
But there is a problem… Now that you are on the floor, you can’t find that damn thread.
You feel around for the thread, crawling as you cover the dimly-lit floor, completely fixated on the search until you come across something that makes you freeze.
Shoes…
No
Not just shoes, shoes with feet attached to them.
A spark of heat ignites in your cheeks as your eyes travel up the sandals, white kyahan, tabi socks, and the dark Demon slayer uniform until you recognize the person in front of you.
Giyu Tomioka, the water hashira. Whose large, deep-blue eyes resemble the ocean and contain a fraction of it’s grief.
Startled, you jolt up from the floor, the top of your head slams into the bottom of the table painfully.
You wince, and rub the start of what will be a painful bump as the Hashira’s eyes widen just a smidge. Guilt flashes across his features as he realizes he is to blame for your injury. “I apologize,” he says, his fingers twitch as if he is debating holding a hand out to help you up. “I assumed you had noticed me coming up the path.”
“And what?” You ask brushing yourself off and climbing to your feet. “Hid under the table?”
He shrugs, like that very thing has happened to him before. And you can’t help but feel bad for this lonely Hashira.
“Anyways… what can I do for you Mr. Tomioka?” You ask, straightening your posture. It’s then you realize that he is not wearing his signature Haori. Instead, the mismatched garment is draped over his left arm. He glances down at it, eyes rippling with pained emotion as he brushes his thumb along the splitting seam down the middle.
“Oh,” the utterance escapes you without a second thought. “It looks to be coming apart at the seams.”
He nods, eyes still burning holes into the split. “I understand that this is not a typical repair but this Haiori is the most precious thing I own. Would you be able to fix it?” Before you have a change to answer, he reaches into the pockets of his pants and pulls out a cloth bag, setting it on the wooden table, the coins within jingles familiarly.
“You don’t need to pay me, I am already compensated by the Demon Slayer Corps for my services. And even if I wasn't, charging to repair something as precious as this would feel wrong.”
He looks genuinely surprised at your refusal, staring between you and the untouched bag of yen on the tabletop. Taking advantage of his bewilderment, you carefully pry the garment out of his protective grasp.
“You really will fix it?” he asks once more. A slight apprehension in his gaze, as if he expects you to throw his Haiori to the ground and laugh in his face.
“Yes,” you affirm once more. “I’ll have it ready to go first thing tomorrow morning.”
At your words he smiles… Or at least you think he does.
The lukewarm expression of joy on his handsome face is clearly unused. But that wobbly, sad excuse of a smile sets something aflame inside of you and you want nothing more than to see him do it again tomorrow.
Rengoku~
It’s early, the sun has just risen over the hilltops. Tiredness weighs down your eyelids, but you have a feeling that the demons don’t really care about your sleeping habits.
Sipping a warm cup of tea, you turn your attention to the pants on the table you have to hem before their owner arrives this afternoon.
Taking another deep sip of the green tea, you savor the caffeine.
“Good morning!” a chipper voice booms from the doorway. You nearly choke on your drink and are sent into a fit of coughing.
A warm hand grabs a handkerchief and crouches on the ground next to you. “ my apologies, I didn’t mean to startle you.” they say, their voice still loud but filled with genuine concern.
“ I should’ve been paying more attention,” you cough as you turn your head and come face-to-face with eyes of fire framed by thick brows.
The Flame Hashira, Kyojuro Rengoku certainly lives up to the name. Not just in his appearance, he seems to radiate warmth like a furnace.
Suddenly ashamed that your first meeting has taken such a turn, you bow your head. “Mr. Rengoku, what is it I can do for you?”
The seemingly always smiling Hashira frowns slightly, and removes his signature haori from his shoulders and turns it inside out; the stitches on the inside have worn down almost completely.
“This haori has been in my family for years. But I noticed that the stitches seemed to be falling out. Is this something you would be able to fix?” there is a desperation in his gaze that you’ve seen in others who have sentimental attachment to their garments.
You want nothing more than to do this for him, getting in a Hashira’s good graces could make things easier for you down the road. But more than that, you really want Kyojuro Rengoku to like you.
Instead of promising the moon, you hold your tongue. Historic garments like this are already difficult to restore. If he was anyone else, you would tell him that it may be time to retire the piece and have a replica made.
But you don’t
“I-i can try.” your exhale is shaky, lacking your usual confidence. “But I can’t promise anything, this haori is delicate, I’d need to reattach the sleeves and~”
The relief in his expression impales your heart like a winged cherubs arrow. “The fact that you are putting so much thought into this fills me with joy. Whatever happens, I thank you for your effort.”
Puffing out your chest you meet his eyes with confidence. “I will do my very best.”
“Thank you,” he says warmly, his eyes widening as he comes to a realization. “Oh, I almost forgot, I have something that may help.”
Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out a worn journal, “This was my mothers,” he says, running his thumb over the leather fondly. “She took many notes, maybe something in there could prove helpful in your work.”
Under his expectant gaze you take the journal, holding it as if it were made of glass. Your fingers ghost over the pages as you skim through it until you hit gold.
Pages upon pages of notes of things she learned mending the previous Flame Hashira’s Haori, step by step guide for how she did this same repair on the other arm.
You beam, corners of your mouth hurting as you snap your head up to him. “These notes are wonderful, with these I think I can repair your haori just fine.”
“How wonderful,” he yells, so excited that he wraps his arms around you in a scorching bearhug. Your face is buried in his golden hair as you inhale the smell of cedar and sunshine. The smell so dizzying, you find yourself hugging him back.
Warnings: potential spoilers. Timeskip ofc, feelings of self-loathing, little spooning, weeping, angsty
Ever since he came home, free from the lingering chains of the Blue Lock Project, Rensuke Kunigami has been different. In many ways, he is still the man you fell in love with. But years later, well into his professional career you see that many parts of him, the ones you cherished when you were in school together, have shattered.
-
It’s late in the year for a frost. But clearly, mother nature didn't get the memo.
Like it has been every day since you moved in, his side of the bed is cold and tightly made with military precision.
Once, in a conversation with his friends, you overheard one of them call him a cyborg. But the changes in him are far more than just mechanical.
His amazing work ethic has been twisted.
He is overly disciplined in his routine. Never allowing himself comfort unless his refusal directly inconveniences you. It’s as if he doesn’t see himself worthy of joy. If you two didn't share a bed, you wonder if he would force himself to sleep on the cold tile.
~
Once dressed, you find him in the living room, eyes dull as a soccer game from the other side of the world flashes across the television screen. His posture is perfect as he curls a massive dumbbell with his bicep.
He doesn't seem to be focusing on the game at all. He’s lost in thought more often nowadays, the dark circles under his eyes never seem to disappear, no matter how much he sleeps. You have to call out to him several times to bring him back to you.
Once he notices your presence, He shakes the cobwebs from his head and sets the weight on the ground. “Good morning,” he says with a strained smile. “How did you sleep?”
“Good,” you lie. He tends to toss and turn more often now, the nightmares he experienced in the wild-card round of the project are unwilling to let him rest. “What about you?”
“Fine,” he nods, as much of a liar as you are. The living room falls deathly silent once again as you linger in the space between you. Hoping that maybe today will be the day it gets a bit smaller. His eyes are still trained on you, a sliver of warmth still residing in those sorrowful pools of amber.
“It’s cold out there,” you offer, pointing to the window.
“Yeah.” he says like there is a weight on his tongue. “I uhhh scraped the ice off your windshield."
“You did?”
“Yeah. I saw it when I came back from my run.” he says. The faintest trace of pink in his complexion. “It took a second.”
“Thank you,” you beam. Your heart skips a beat at such a small and thoughtful gesture. “You’re my hero.”
If there was anything to say in that moment, clearly, this wasn't it.
In the past, before all this craziness, he would bask in the warmth of the title. Cheeks flushing brilliantly as he smiles goofily at you. “Hell yeah, I’m your superhero.” he would say. Flexing his well-loved muscles just for show.
But now.
He stiffens. Jerking his head away from you as his gaze turns to ice. “No.” he says with a furious, almost mechanical shake of his head. “Not a hero. I’m not a hero.”
It’s a mantra.
Another side effect from the Blue Lock Project.
You weren’t sure what happened to him in there. Legally he can’t tell you. Blue Lock's army of Lawyers and NDA’s have welded his lips shut. What you do know is that your boyfriend came out of it with the sense of self hatred for the goodness inside of him.
Goodness that, despite it all, is still there.
~
Later that night, you slide into bed next to him.
The room is dark, but you can tell that he has his back to you. The slight of his bare torso is enough to fracture your heart.
What breaks it though, is the corner of the pillow poking out from between his arms. He once told you that he doesn't trust himself to hold you the way he used to; that he doesn't deserve it.
He thinks he doesn't deserve a lot of things.
You are one of them.
He can give up his favorite meals, warm showers, and superflicks, but his ego won’t let him part from you. Because he loves you. You see it in his eyes, in his actions, in the way he lingers in your presence.
It’s one of the reasons you keep trying to break through those walls of disciplined isolation that have been built around him. Sometimes though, when a wall is too thick, you have to find another way through.
So, tonight, you climb.
Peering over at him, you notice that he’s too still to be asleep. The valley between your bodies is wide, but bridging the gap is not impossible if you take the leap right now. Sliding across the sheets you cling to his back, holding him from behind.
He stiffens in your hold, his massive frame unused to being the little spoon. His heart pounds against your lungs,
Once
Twice
“Babe, is everything okay?” he breathes, trying to twist himself to face you. But you don’t let go.
“Jus wanted to hold you,” you respond. “Is this okay?”
You feel him nod, tense shoulders loosening just a tad. “Yeah…that’s fine.”
“Thank you, for scraping my window this morning,” you say, lips so close they brush against his skin. “You’re my hero.”
He freezes once again. Teeth grinding against themselves as something in his brain forces those words out once again. “Not…A… Hero…”
Your head shakes fervently. “You are, Rensuke. You are still my hero. No matter what.”
He’s silent for a moment, as your words ring out through the still bedroom. His breathing becomes shaky as his strong shoulders tremble against you.
“Please,” he croaks, trying to twist around again. The muffled sound of the pillow in his arms thudding to the floor reaches your ears. “Let me see you.”
You do as he says, giving him enough space to flip around revealing his tear streaked face, his eyes are glassy but there is raw humanity breaking through to the surface. He clings to you, for the first time in what feels like a lifetime. His grip is much stronger than you anticipated, but it’s a welcome pressure.
You have breached the wall.
And as he sobs into your skin, you know that it’s the first step on a long journey to healing the ballprint-shaped scar they left on his spirit.
~ Mammon’s last-minute Valentine's gift leads to some sinister shenanigans when the necklace around your neck comes alive.
W.C. 5.7k
Warnings: Slight asphyxiation, near-injuries, public shame, feelings of embarrassment, explosions, broken glass, attempted assault.
a/n: It took way longer than I planned but here is part 2!
Staring down at your still-throbbing fingers, the necklace seems to hum around your neck. You notice that the chain feels unnaturally warm against your skin. Not hot enough to burn, just enough to make you aware of it.
Mammon’s nervous chuckling fills the room as his eyes dart anxiously from side to side. “Silly human,” he says with an unconvincing poker face. “If ya wanted help gettin’ the necklace off, ya could’ve jus asked me.”
With all eyes on him, he approaches you, slowly raising his hands up to the clasp behind your neck. Before he makes contact with the silver mechanism, the necklace’s jewel emits a bright, baby-pink light and jerks out of his reach.
A startled cry leaves your lips as you are forced to follow the pendant's tug. Knocking over your mimosa glass on the table, you are sent sliding off your chair and onto the floor.
Everyone springs from their seats, not bothering to push in their chairs as they rush to you. Simeon gets to you first, crouching down to your eye level. “Mc, are you alright? You aren’t hurt anywhere are you?”
You shake your head, still too frazzled to speak. The glow of the necklace has disappeared now, but there is no doubt there is something within, something that does not wish to leave your being.
“What is this?” Diavolo asks, his eyes aglow with concern and outrage as they flicker to the necklace.
Barbatos subtly wipes the remnants of your drink from the table before it can drip onto you. “It appears that the necklace you have been given is cursed,” he says at last.
“Definetly cursed” Solomon adds. Ten pairs of eyes snap to Mammon filled with rage. If you weren't so terrified, you’d feel bad for him.
“MAMMON,” Lucifer yells at the Avatar of Greed, who stands frozen, his face drained of color as he gapes at you. “WHAT DID YOU DO?”
He blinks, “I-i uh~.”
“Way to go Mammon,” Belphie glares, Dark horns emerging from his head as his tail swishes back and forth. “You just had to cheap out and get Mc another crap gift.”
“Seriously Mammon,” Satan asks, fist shaking as he struggles to remain composed. “Did you even think to check the necklace for curses before you bought it at some back alley pawn shop?”
From behind you hear Levi let out a low hiss. “Major L, idiot.”
“I-I jus wanted to surprise them,” Mammon stutters, looking as if he may cry. “Mc, I swear I didn't do it on purpose.”
Your heart hurts for him, “I know,” you sigh, as Simeon helps you from the polished floor. “It could’ve happened to anyone. Let’s just try and fix this.”
Lucifer’s sigh puts yours to shame as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “Mc is right. Dwelling on his mistake isn't going to do us any good. Solomon,” he turns to the sorcerer, who has turned all his attention to your neck. Analyzing is so intimate, you feel a flustered heat creeping through your skin. “Are you able to discern what type of enchantment is within the necklace?”
The Sorcerer shakes his head as his eyes travel upwards to meet yours. “Not yet,” he says, giving your hand a protective little squeeze. Lowering his voice, he reassures you. “But I will get to the bottom of this.”
“As much as I hate to say it, if the necklace wanted to harm Mc, it would’ve by now.” Satan mutters. “I worry that any attempt to remove it could prove dangerous.”
“There is no way any of us will be touching it then,” Levi says. “Mc is too important.”
“But what if something happens?” Beel asks. “I don’t like this at all.”
Asmodeus, with his eye for beauty, takes in the gemstone curiously. “You know, this piece looks older. I remember hearing about a trend called Eternity Pieces. Couples would give each other jewelry with an enchantment that would make them stay on forever.”
“That’s kinda beautiful,” you muse, glancing down at the necklace.
“Until the couple breaks things off and they are stuck with a reminder of the person who broke their heart,” Belphie says with snarky pessimism.
But that really would suck.
“Does this mean that I have to wear this for the rest of my life?” you ask. As the others look around, unsure of what to answer.
It’s Beel who surprisingly breaks the silence. “Oh I did that when my team won the FangolBowl. We decided to enchant our championship rings.”
“When did you do that?” Lucifer asks, looking at the sixth-born's noticeably bare finger.
“A couple hundred years ago,” he shrugs like it’s no big deal.
Mammon cuts in, eager to be the one to solve the problem he created. “How did you get it t’ come off?”
“Enchanting jewelry is kinda like eating,” he explains, grabbing a mini quince from the table and popping it into his mouth. “When you first fill it up with magic, it feels full. But nothing can stay full forever. Believe me, I know.”
“I see,” Solomon holds his chin. “So the magic in the necklace will wane since it is consistently activated. What a relief.”
Beel frowns, “But there may be more to it than that. When I tried to remove my ring, it felt like glue. No matter how hard I pulled, it wouldn't budge.”
“And this one tries to protect itself,” you chuckle dryly. “Great.”
Gloved fingers brush against your arm as Barbatos nods. “We will need to investigate this thoroughly. While also keeping a close eye on you.”
Diavolo straightens up a bit, his smile strangely excited based on the circumstances. “Then perhaps we shall continue with the day as planned. Mc will still get to enjoy the dates we have planned while the others investigate.”
“I like the sound of that.”
Asmo brightens. “Of course you do, Hon. A date with me is too tempting to pass up.” He leans in, his breath tickling your ear as he lowers his voice just so you can hear it. “I can’t wait till you see what I have planned for us.”
“You’re right, I can’t wait,” you breathe, for a moment forgetting about the chain around your neck. “But it doesn't feel right that you guys have to do all the investigating while I take it easy all day.”
“You’ll be watching the necklace.” Solomon persuades. “You should keep track of what it does just in case we require more information.”
“It could be fun,” Satan adds. “We have a mystery to solve. I’ll head to the library and start reading up on enchantments. Maybe I can find a spell that can break it before our date.”
“That would be nice,” you hum. “Good thinking, Satan.”
As the demon basks in the warmth of your praise, you miss the wanting looks in the eyes of the others. Diavolo steps up first.
“This necklace doesn't seem to hold much power at all,” he observes, eyes aglow as he stares through the eye of the gemstone. “But the style is familiar to pieces in the Royal Treasury. Perhaps there is a connection.”
“May I join you?” Simeon asks. “There is nothing more I would like to do than help free Mc of this burden.”
“Of course,” he nods, “We should check the archives too.”
Lucifer clears his throat. “Well, since my date is all ready. I may as well take the opportunity to watch Mc first.”
“Then I’ll go next~,” Mammon nudges in. Only for the words to die in his throat after an eerily homicidal look from Barbatos.
“No Mammon, You will be showing me the shop that sold you this item. Asmodeus, would you join us? Your interrogation skills may be useful.”
The Avatar of Lust grins wickedly. “I love this kind of roleplay. We got the sexy, the scary, and…” he looks at Mammon. “That's stupid.”
“And the Sorcerer,” Solomon says much to the irritation of the butler. “Who knows what kind of relics one could find at a back-alley pawn shop?”
“B-but what about my date?” The Avatar of Greed asks. “Mc’s gonna love it.”
Clearing his throat, Lucifer steps toward his younger brother. “Maybe so, but until Mc is free from that necklace. You do not deserve any alone time with them.”
“As much as I hate to say it, it’s only fair that Mammon reaps what he sows.” The angel sighs. “Mc could’ve been hurt due to their actions.”
Opening his mouth to protest, Mammon’s blue-gold eyes flick to you, but when he sees the pendant, he goes quiet. “Yer right.” he hangs his head, “I’ll bring ya to the shop. I’ll be waitin’ outside.”
He leaves, not meeting your eyes as he passes you. Seeing him this way, so dejected, breaks your heart.
“I c-could go next then,” Levi says, breaking the awkward silence. “I got the coolest date picked out. Honestly, now this kinda reminds me of this anime I pirated from the human world. ‘The LoveOfMyLifeIsBeingHeldHostageByAPossessedNecklaceAndIHaveToKeepThemFromBeingSentToTheirPrisonRealm~’
“I have no desire to watch that,” Belphie mutters with a yawn. “But I do want to help Mc. We should find your ring, Beel, and see if we can learn anything from it.”
“Good idea,” his twin says. “It’s probably in my sports locker at RAD.”
You look around, emotion swirling in your chest as you see your loved ones rush out the door, ready to alter the course of their day just for you. Although today is shaping up to be a bit more interesting than you thought, you can only hope that the curse on this necklace will be lifted quickly and everyone will be able to take it easy.
Looking down at the necklace, you notice how the baby pink gemstone looks almost transparent in the light. You touch it cautiously, feeling the unnatural warmth radiating from its stunning center.
“Mc, did you hear me?” Lucifer asks from behind you.
You shake your head, distracted by your own thoughts. “Oh, sorry. No. I guess I was just thinking.”
His smile is soft as his eyes meet yours, filled with understanding. “I know things aren't the way we wanted them to go, but believe me. We will stop at nothing to break this spell.”
“I just wish I could do something more to help,” you frown.
His lips press tenderly against your forehead. “You help plenty, My Dear. You always are the first to lend a hand when we need it. Let us help you this time.”
Deep down, you know he is right. The best thing you can do right now is enjoy the day and keep calm.
“Now come along, I can’t wait for you to see what I have planned for your first date of the day.” Relenting, you take his arm and he escorts you from the dining room, the weight around your neck growing lighter as you place your trust with your loved ones.
Lucifer -
Lucifer’s hand hasn't left yours since the dining room.
Although he isn't one to have his nerves betrayed by sweaty palms and tremors, the firm hold he has on you tells you all you need to know.
He’s terrified of what this necklace could do to you.
He hums softly to the tune of one of his favorite records as he continues with this nonchalant mask of indifference. The same one he was wearing when Mammon dealt him a full house during the final hand of the after-dinner poker game.
As you get closer to his office, you begin to wonder what he has in store for you today.
“So, does this super romantic date involve paperwork?” you ask teasingly. “Because I don’t mind it as long as I get to work the stapler.”
He smiles, the first real one since this whole mess began. “Impatient are we? You’ll find out soon.”
With the silence broken, he pauses just short of his office door and turns to you. When those crimson eyes of his land on the necklace, he looks more than annoyed; he looks sick.
“Mc, I apologize for Mammon’s carelessness this morning. Although he meant well, you could’ve been hurt, or worse. I promise that he will be punished for this.”
Shaking your head, you remember just how heartbroken the secondborn looked when he stormed out of the dining room. “It was an accident,” you say firmly. “It could’ve happened to anyone.”
“I suppose you are right,” he relents. “I just can’t help it, you are irreplaceable to me, and all I wish for is for you to have the most wonderful time today.”
“With you, I always do,” you hum, watching as red eyes flash purple with blue pride as his pleased smirk grows hungry.
“What am I going to do with you?” he rasps. Bending over to capture your lips as you are caged between his arms and the office door at your back.
He pulls away, far too soon for your liking. Making you aware of just how breathless you are at the moment. “As tempting as this is, we can’t get carried away now. You still have to see the surprise.”
Your lips quirk into a pout, “This wasn't the plan? I’m pretty cozy right here.”
“And they say I’m the demon,” he chuckles, reaching for the doorknob and gives it a little twist. A warm light spills out the door as you enter. Your eyes adjust and you realize that instead of the office you are used to, you find yourself in an enchanted greenhouse filled to the brim with hundreds of strange fruit-like flowers.
Charmed sunlight streams through the glass walls, warming your face as you listen to the serene rippling of the water fountain in the corner of the room. Your jaw hits the floor as a large purple butterfly lands on the tip of your nose. “What is this?”
“Just something I’ve been working on,” he hums, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Do you like it?”
“I love it,” you breathe in the florals. “The air is so fresh in here. I’ve never seen flowers like these before.”
“These,” he explains, plucking a blue flower with seeded petals from a vine inhaling deeply. “Are special varieties of flowers that have been bred with different fruits, the petals are closer to berries than anything else. This one is a cross between a blood strawberry and my favorite variety of blue rose. I heard they are quite delicious.” He breaks off a plump petal and feeds it to you.
As your lips close around the petaled fruit, you bite, as the out of this world flavor dances across each and everyone of your taste buds. The petal is sweet with an almost mature finish that has you reaching for another one. “This is.. Wow. You have to try this.”
You tear another petal off the flower and feed it to him. His expression of wonder matches your own as he kisses a droplet of fruit juice from your index finger. “This is wonderful,” he croons. “These will work perfectly.”
“Perfect for what?” you ask curiously. Surely, this greenhouse filled with special plants is the surprise.
He turns to the back wall of the greenhouse, where there is a sort of assembled kitchenette with a vat of bubbling sugar over a burner. “For this. I thought we might try our hand at candying them like fruit. Since they come with stems, all we have to do is dip them in our sugar mixture. And then immediately dunk it in this bowl of ice water to harden.”
“Sounds easy enough.”
“It’s fairly simple, but tastes wonderful,” he nods. Directing your attention to the low flame beneath the glass bowl. “Just be sure to keep this flame low so the bowl does not overheat.”
You nod as he demonstrates, dunking a peach-scented tulipy thing by its sturdy stem into the simmering pot of sugar. The smell is dizzying, and you have never wanted to munch on a flower so much in your life.
He sets candied flowers into a crystal vase and raises a brow. “Is this interesting to you?”
“Yes, let's do this,” you say, bounding around the room, collecting flowers of each variety for this elevated edible arrangement.
You arrive back at the workstation with your arms full when Lucifer brushes behind you, setting his bounty of blue strawberry roses down on the wood. “I guess you have a favorite,” you tease. “Save some blue ones for me.”
“There are plenty,” he says, glancing back. “And we can come back here anytime you wish.”
Your heart feels full as you begin to candy the flowers, just as he did, “This has been a wonderful gift. I am so excited to try these.”
“Me too~” His gaze trails down to your neck, where your necklace begins to glow faintly.
“What the?” You furrow your brow as the glow gets stronger.
“Mc, get down!” The Avatar of Pride yells, suddenly pulling you to the ground, covering your frame with his just as the sugar bowl explodes. Glass and burnt liquid confection go everywhere, thanks to the quick protective barrier he put around the pair of you; you are thankfully unharmed.
“W-what just happened?” Your breath is shaky as he cleans the mess with a wave of his hand, dropping it all into a trash can.
“The magic with the necklace must’ve interfered with the burner; it wouldn't take much to increase the heat,,” he says with a frown. “This is concerning. I apologize for putting you into harm's way.”
You stand so fast you make yourself lightheaded. Steadying yourself on the countertop, you stare at him. “We had no way of knowing something like this would happen.”
His eyes land on your vase of candied flowers, completely ruined from the explosion. “Still, I should have been more careful. This could’ve gone differently, you could’ve been hurt.” His tone is firm, final, but not accusatory.
As always, he is putting the burden on himself.
What he should be doing is placing it on this damn necklace that is weighing you down. You can only hope that the rest of the day goes smoothly, for all your sakes.
“Lucifer, once this thing is off. Can we try again?” you ask,“This really is such a lovely present. I’d like to make candied flowers for everyone.”
He smiles, spirits lifting with the corners of his mouth. “Of course, my dear. I would love nothing more.”
Leviathan-
Levi’s gaze has been trained squarely on your necklace since the two of you left the House of Lamination. You know he’s just worried about you, especially after what happened with Lucifer, but you can’t help but want him to look at you instead.
You take his hand and smile brightly, distracting the worried Otaku with a bit of your signature charm. “I’m so excited to see what you have planned for us today, Levi. You’re so good at things like this.”
“I do... uhhh I-I am?” he breathes, steam comes out of his ears as the demon’s face turns concerningly red.
“Of course,” you nod, heart tender as you see excited confidence grow on his face.
“It’s just ahead,” he says eagerly, pointing to a corner building in the heart of Majolish. Upon closer inspection, it looks like he has taken you to a pop-up arcade. The familiar machines through the window fill you with a bit of nostalgia.
“Are these retro arcade games from the human world?” you ask, recognizing the Mrs. Pac-Man logo on the side of one of the machines.
“Yep,” he nods, so excitedly you worry he is about to take flight. “With a twist. For Valentine's Day, all of the games are programmed for two players to play at once. And we can create our own avatars to play with.”
To say you are pumped would be an understatement. You're buzzing with excitement as he checks you guys in, hands you your special lanyard, and leads you to the character creation station.
From what you can tell, it looks like the lanyards you were given are what makes the games customizable. You pass a couple playing a Donkey Kong machine, their little pixelated avatars jumping over the barrels instead of Mario.
“First, we need to make our username.” He explains, “It’s only three letters, but having our names posted to the top of the leaderboards would show everyone who is the most OP couple.”
Thinking for a moment, you let out a low humm. “Hmm, if it’s only three letters, what if we went with H.L.P?”
He raises a brow, “H.L.P? What’s that?”
You grin, knowing the effect those words would have on him. “Henry and Lotan’s Parents.”
The purple-haired demon sways faintly on his legs, dangerously close to losing consciousness. “P-parents?”
“Or we could do something else~.”
“No! I like it.” He punches it in, and you guys are sent to the character creation screen. “Do you maybe want to make each other's?"
You nod in agreement and focus intensely on his face, wanting to make his avatar as cute as he is. He certainly has no problems making an avatar that looks just like him, muttering proudly about how he has practiced for this very moment. As you work however, you notice that the longer you look at him, the more flustered he gets.
“Do you want me to stop?” you ask, “I just like your face and want to do it justice.”
It appears that Levi.exe has stopped working….
With your avatars made and Levi back to a normal body temperature, you guys started playing your way through the arcade. With each jump over turtle shells and flaming barrels, you find yourself relaxing. The troubling events of this morning fading as you enjoy this moment with Levi, bumping arms and brushing fingers as you play.
If you are being honest, it may be a bit unfair that you two are partnered up together. As a human, you are a bit more used to the mechanics of this game than some of the demons around you, and Levi is well…Levi.
H.L.P sits at the top of pretty much every leaderboard in the arcade when you decide to take a break.
In the back corner of the arcade, you stumble across a familiar-looking game. It’s one of those robotic arm wrestling games where you have to overpower a metal arm like you would in a real arm wrestling match.
“Oh I haven't seen one of these in forever.” You say, fishing into your pocket for some tokens. A dull robotic voice counts down from 10 as you place your elbow on the foam pad and grip the machine tightly.
3
2
1
The machine comes to life, the arm way stronger than you thought it would be. You’re losing terribly. Even when you cheat and use your other hand, it’s no use.
“Levi, I need help,” you whine, pleading to the demon. And although he may not be known for his physical strength, he jumps right in.
“O-okay.” He says, placing his hand on top of yours as the two of you struggle against the machine. You are aware of how close you are to him, how loudly his heart is thrumming in his chest as you shakily gain the upperhand. The robotic fist gets closer and closer to the table when suddenly a wave of tiredness shoots through you.
Around your neck, the necklace glows as an electrical current shoots from it, traveling through not just your machine, but every single one in the arcade and they all crash. “What the?” The arm of the machine stiffens and the lights in the arcade flicker much to the confusion of everyone else.
“No,” a demon cries as he looks at the leaderboard of his restarted game. “All of our scores just reset. What happened?”
“Was that you?” Levi whispers as you look down at the necklace,
“I think it was.” you realize, shame prickles the back of your neck as the Arcade employees whisper amongst themselves, staring at you. When one breaks away from the group and starts off in your direction, you know what is about to happen.
“Excuse me,” they say with a forced, fang-filled smile. “We have a strict policy against tampering with the machines. I’m afraid I’m gonna have to ask you to leave.”
Levi bristles, hand on your lower back. “It’s not thei~”
You cut him off. “I’m sorry, I’ll go.” you say, face burning as you rush past the rows of glaring demons. The necklace emits a buzzing laughter against your skin as you step out into the cold air. Completely humiliated.
Not only did you ruin the event for all those demons, Levi worked really hard to plan such a fun date. Sure, he could’ve used his power or standing to brush this incident aside, but what was the point?
“Hey Mc. Wait up,” The Avatar of Envy wheezes running up beside you, the necklace going quiet as he places his hands on his knees. As he looks you over with wide eyes.“Are you okay? Did you get shocked?”
“I’m fine, I’m just sorry I ruined the date.” you sigh. “We were having so much fun and then I just~”
“You didn't ruin anything.” he says firmly. “It was the necklace. But we should tell the others what happened. I don’t think the charm is supposed to do that.”
“You’re right,” your smile is a bit strained. “But still, I want to make it up to you. You planned something so wonderful and we didn't get to finish.”
“We’ll be back,” he grins. “And next time H.L.P will rule those leaderboards.”
His genuine excitement helps, but you have a feeling that when it comes to this necklace, the worst is yet to come.
Satan~
The Library doors are snugly shut as you wait for Satan to fetch you from the hallway.
Not that you mind waiting.
Thanks to the cursed necklace, the first two dates of the day, as well as the special breakfast you planned have been a disaster. You aren't in a hurry to have the other dates end the same way.
You stare at the pendant, anger simmering in your eyes. You’ve dealt with cursed objects before, ones that tie your shoelaces together, or give you an incurable case of the hiccups. But this one is inconveniencing more than just you.
Your loved ones took the time to plan these dates, but all it takes is a bit of magic to ruin their hard work.
The library doors open and Satan steps out. His blond hair is tousled, as if he has been raking his hands through it all morning trying to solve your problem. His eyes are bright, alert as he searches for you, smiling when he finds you sat on your little bench.
“There you are,” he says, “I hope I haven't kept you long.”
“Did you find anything?” you ask hopefully.
“No,” his lip twitches as his eyes blaze emerald in determination. “But I will. I won’t stop until I know you are safe.”
It’s a bit intense, but you know he means every word of it.
“I know today hasn't gone the way we planned,” he notes joining you on the bench.
“That’s an understatement,” you mutter, wanting nothing more than to snap this sliver chain. “The dates would’ve been so fun, if it weren't for this thing. You all put so much thought into our time together, and I just ruined it.”
There is tender understanding in his expression as he places his hand on your knee. “At the end of the day, anytime spent alone with you is precious. You are what I want, the date is just a bonus, even if it comes with a bit of magical interference.”
Suddenly, you become very aware of your heart’s palpitations. “Well aren't you a romantic?”
“Would you like to see what I have planned for us?” he misdirects with darkened cheeks.
You’re hesitant, but after his sappy little pep talk, you are coping with the inevitable chaos that will happen once you follow him into the library.
The hundreds of priceless books on the library shelves have you sweating.
What if the necklace does something to destroy them?
“I know that look,” he says running his fingers along the spines. “If it’s the books you are worried about, don’t be. I have dozens of protective charms in place to prevent anything that little necklace of yours can throw at them.”
“Really?”
“Yes,” he nods, tugging at his collar. “Sometimes with my Sin, I lose control of myself. I had to plan accordingly to save myself some heartache.”
You’ve seen what the demon is capable of when his Wrath takes control. If the charms on the books are strong enough to handle him at his worst, this necklace won’t leave a scratch.
“I trust you,” you smile. “And I am so excited to see what you have planned for us today.”
His smile is eager as he takes your hand and leads you to the small table in the back of the room. Usually, it is covered in piles of books, a tea set, and other reading accompaniments but today, you find it polished and dust free. With only a book-shaped construction paper wrapped bundle and a wicker basket filled with what looks to be some type of art supplies.
“What is all this?” you ask, as his eyes flick between you and the braided string on the package that is just begging to be tugged.
“I haven't any idea what you mean,” muses. “But you should probably open it and find out.”
“Okay, liar,” you tease, pulling the little bow apart and unwrapping the bundle to reveal two leatherbound journals, their faces blank save for the careful gold painted lettering on the cover.
“Our Stories,” you read.
“As much as I love reading, the adventures I have with you can be far more appealing. I figured we could write some of them down.” He says looking at you as if you were the lost tome he needed to complete a historical set.
“I love it,” you beam. “We have our own adventure journals. I can't wait to start writing.” Although the journal is swoonworthy enough as is, you can’t help but look at the basket near the table’s centre. “But what’s in the basket?”
“Customization equipment,” he says, popping open the lid, revealing straps, leather paint and brushes, stamps, charms and goodness knows what else. “Although I’m not one to judge a book by it’s cover, Asmodues told me once that unsightly ones stay on the shelf. I didn't want to take any chances with these.”
“This is amazing,” you say, eyeing a particularly interesting stamp design that would look great on the corners. “Pass me the basket.”
As the two of you begin to decorate your new adventure journals, the conversation shifts from dread and concern about the hazard resting on your chest, to excitement for the future. With Satan, it’s easy to relax in his presence, giggling as you bump elbows. You may be sitting a bit too close to each other for arts and crafts but neither of you wish to move.
“How’s this?” he asks, holding up his practically professionally decorated journal that has you slyly scooting your own out of sight. “Do you approve?”
“It’s beautiful. We may have found your calling,” you answer, noticing something flicker on his cheek. A speck of glitter (which is incredibly weird because there is not one sparkly thing in the basket of supplies). “Oh, you got something on your cheek.” you brush your finger over your own face to mirror the action.
“Right here?” he asks, swiping at the opposite side of his face and looking down at his glitterless finger.
“Other side.”
“Ah, thank you,” he says, missing the speck once again this time deliberately. “Did I get it?”
“Oh, just sit still,” you huff, reaching out and grabbing his inhumanly beautiful face with your hands. His green eyes shine as they take in your concentrated frame above him and his flustered lips part. You brush the speck from his cheek, but before you can let go, his hands come to rest firmly on top of yours.
“This feels rather nice,” he whispers amongst the bookshelves. “Will you please keep them here for a moment longer.” Your breath hitches as he tilts his chin to the left, and trails his lips along the inside of your palm, never breaking eye contact with you.
The tender moment has your heart racing as the elephant in the room tries to make itself known. The necklace begins to buzz against your skin, visibly straining as it’s light flickers dimly.
Satan drops his hands and stares at the necklace. “It can’t be,” he mumbles, eyes brightening with realization.
“What is it?” you ask. “What do you see?”
He shakes his head. “It’s not what I see, but what I feel. I sense anger coming from within the gem. I feel its wrath.”
“How can that be?” you wonder aloud. You may only have a limited knowledge of charms and enchantments, but you learned early on in your time here that charms are like technology. They can only act. Not produce their own emotions. “Are you sure it’s wrath you feel?”
The books on the shield rattle under the limited power of the necklace when suddenly the thinnest, lightest one flies off the shelf, barreling towards Satan’s head.
He catches it easily as the necklace dims once again. Staring down at the projectile, there is a finality in his expression as he nods. “I’m positive. This necklace isn’t just cursed. It’s alive.”
~ This year, with no love potion spiked cookies or Cupid scares, Mammon and the others are determined to make the day perfect for their special human. Why not start it off with an amazing gift?
W.C. 3.7k
a/n: Thank you guys for your patience. I have been thinking about this one for awhile and I really hope you like it.
Love is in the air as Mammon walks through the empty streets of Majolish, his wallet embarrassingly light as he peers through the darkened windows. In true Valentine's Day fashion, the displays are decorated with roses, paper hearts, and all that lovely-dovey stuff that makes the Avatar of Greed pulse quicken.
His breath fogs up the glass as he scans the stores for something amazing he can give you first thing tomorrow morning. Something that will have your attention on him instead of the others all day long.
He knows it’s greedy, but only fair that you think of him as much as he thinks of you.
But now, as he passes another deluminated ‘open’ sign. The Great Mammon has a problem. Pretty much every shop in Majolish has closed for the night.
Under the streetlights, his long shadow sulks as he passes shop after shop until he finds himself on the outskirts of the shopping complex. Trying the freezing metal handle of the shop on the corner. When it fails to move, his pout grows.
Shoving his hands into his pockets, he leans against the brick wall and sighs. “Damn, what am I supposed to do now? MC will think I’m jus like everybody else.” The thought makes his frown deepen as he realizes that he has wandered the whole complex of shops and has nothing to show for it.
Now, he’ll have to walk all the way back to the House of Lamination emptyhanded in the cold.
His head is hung low as he gives up, cutting through a narrow, unfamiliar alleyway to get back to the main street. The scraping sound of his sulky footsteps bounce off the walls as he walks past dented trash cans and a long wall covered in layer after layer of paint and graffiti.
The air grows colder, and the dim lights of the alley flicker briefly. The hair on Mammon’s neck raises as a shudder travels through him.
He feels… He actually isn’t sure what he is feeling right now. The unsettling feeling came and went too fast. He rubs his eyes, noticing a small shop door just ahead.
Was that always there?’ he wonders. Noticing the small ‘open’ sign hanging in the cracked glass window. Although he has never seen this so-called antique store before. He is certain that it has seen better days.
The windows are covered in a thick layer of dust and cobwebs, and his fingers shudder with imaginary splinters as he takes in the sorry state of that weathered door frame. He doubts a dump like this has anything worthy of his human, but his desperation to please you has him pushing open the rickety door with the bottom of his black boot.
The inside of the shop is just as unkempt as the exterior, but there are indeed antiques inside. Mismatched wooden cabinets are stacked unevenly on top of each other from floor to ceiling, all filled with books and other knick-knacks that seem to hide from the light that comes from the dusty few lanterns that are hung from the cobweb covered ceiling. Each step he takes across the wooden floor leaves a footprint in the particles that have settled on the ground. Old lamps and vases fit oddly on the long rows of wooden shelves nailed to the back wall behind the massive murky glass countertop.
“Uhh, hello?” Mammon calls, stepping carefully over an ebony rocking horse that hasn't stopped moving since he arrived. “Is anyone in here?”
The heavy smell of the shop invades his senses as he suppresses a gag. It’s somewhere between the basement of a senior center and what he smelt when he had pawned off Levi’s Devil DS collection and had to deep clean the filter to Lotan’s aquarium.
He’s about to leave this strange shop in his dust when a small green, imp-like demon with a mop of wiry grey hair pops up from behind the counter.
“Ooh, we have a customer,” he grins, a bit too widely as he straightens his checkered bowtie.
“We?” Mammon looks around the shop, finding no one.
Completely ignoring Mammon’s question. The demon hops onto the countertop. “What are you looking for today?”
“Jus looking around,” Mammon lies, now wanting to leave this shop more than ever. “But I really gotta get goin now. Thanks.” He starts to leave, but the Demon raises a shaky hand. “Wait, please. I-i have some r-really awesome stuff right now. Perfect if you’re looking to get something for that special someone for Valentine's Day.”
Oh?
Mammon stops, interest piqued as he turns back toward the counter. “Special how?”
The little Imp’s shoulders slump in relief as he pulls out several long black cases from behind the counter. “Well, I got this special watch,” he says, taking out a green leather watch strap with a dull bronze case and hardware. “There is a special enchantment on this watch from a very punctual witch. Every time they are running late, the watch will give them a little shock to keep them on schedule.”
The demon holds out the watch, and Mammon instinctively takes a step back, shaking his head furiously. “I wouldn't do that to em. That would hurt.”
“Oh…I see,” the salesman frowns, setting the watch back into its case. “Then how about this?” He pulls out a red, plastic-looking button. “I got this from a Vampiric Party Planner. One push of this button and a room will be instantly decorated with hundreds of red flags. Super trendy stuff.”
“That’s not it either,” Mammon frowns. “I think I’m jus gonna go now~.”
Growing increasingly panicked, the imp tosses open the second case. “Wait, wait, wait, I see you’re a Demon of taste. Maybe you want something special.”
“Look, man, I really don’t~ woah.” He is stunned when the salesman pulls a silver necklace with a gleaming light pink gemstone from the case. “What’s that?”
“This,” the demon beams, flashing his pointy white teeth. “Belonged to a disgraced Nobel Demon whose house was eradicated by the Demon King many years ago. It’s a fine piece, isn't it?”
“Yeah,” he breathes, watching the necklace glow in the lamplight. “It would look perfect on Mc.” Just imagine your face when he gives you such an expensive looking piece of jewelry sends his heart into overdrive. But he isn't the avatar of Greed for nothing if he wants this. He’ll have to win the battle of negotiation. “How much?”
The demon sets the necklace into a black velvet case. “Well, a piece like this is exceptionally rare, so the price would have to reflect that, yes?”
He raises a snowy brow, propping his elbow on the counter. “How? Much?”
“300,000 Grimm.” The Demon says, balling his little fists. “Is it fit to be in the Royal Treasury?”
“I see,” Mammon says, slowly scanning the room. “So, how did somethin like this end up in your shop?”
He starts to sweat. “Uhhh. 30,000 then?”
Mammon beams, slapping Goldie on the counter,“You got yourself a deal.”
As the demon swipes his credit card, he crunches the numbers in his head. 30,000 Grimm is nothing to sneeze at, but if it means he has to pick up a few shifts at Ristorante Six or some modeling gigs to see you smile in this pretty piece, it’s worth it.
~
Although the rest of the Devildom is just beginning to stir from their slumber this foggy Valentine’s Day morning, you are all smiles as you look over the decorations you have set up in the dining room. With the others insistent on planning out special dates for you this Valentine’s Day, you wanted to put together a special breakfast for all of your loved ones to show you care.
Stepping back to admire your handiwork, your chest swells with pride. Your setup looks like it was torn straight out of a magazine.
The table is adorned with pink crystal glassware and pearly plates. The pristine tablecloth is tight against the table, dotted with a sprinkling of conversation heart candies you picked up from the human world. The chandelier above is twisted with red and pink streamers, and there are bunches of shiny heart shaped balloons scattered about the room.
Along the wall you set up the cutest mimosa bar with different flavors of demonus and champaign, a colorful array of fresh juices, and a chilled display of hand cut fruit. Cutting each orange slice and bloodberry into little shapes may have been hand-crampingly excessive, but totally worth it.
And. The. Food.
While your batter for the blood strawberry shortcake waffles chills in the fridge, you crouch down in front of one oven to check on your mini shadow goose egg quiches, that are just beginning to turn a lovely golden brown.
Taking a deep breath, you inhale the sweet and savory smell of the main course roasting in the other. This hot honey glazed hell hog may have been a pain to lug in here all by yourself, but damn does it smell incredible.
“Good morning,” a low voice says from the doorway, you look to find Satan leaning against the frame watching you with a fond smile on his face. It makes sense that he would be the first up this morning, because of his deep love for anniversaries and holidays.
“Morning,” you respond as he strides across the kitchen and scoops you up sweetly. “Happy Valentine's Day.”
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he grins, looking around the kitchen. “Wow, you’ve been busy.”
You shrug. “I just wanted to do something for you all today since you all insisted on planning our dates. But it’s been fun, I found so many fun recipes that I think are turning out really well.”
“I have no doubt,” he chuckles. “What can I do to help you?”
You hum in consideration, scanning the counter noticing the silver bowl of your whipping cream mixture for the waffles and hand it to him. “Can you beat this into submission?”
He nods knowingly. “Ah, that line was from that one human world chef. I remember from that cookbook we bought last time we went to the human world.” His eyes flash green as he begins to whisk the whipping cream until stiff peaks form.
While he is busy with that, you pull the hell hog’s roasting pan from the oven to baste it once more. Strong arms wrap around your waist as a very large demon props his head on your shoulder. “Good morning,” Beel says, skin still warm from his morning workout. “Smells good in here.”
You lean into his embrace. “I hope so.”
Striking orchid eyes meet yours with a pleasant warmth that hugs you from within. “I can’t wait to eat your breakfast, Mc. I know it will be delicious.”
“Thank you, Beel,” you say, watching as he gives the eyes to the ham you are making. “So. Is Belphie awake?”
He shakes his head, “I don’t think so. I should wake him so we can eat sooner.” He leaves, sending one last yearning look at the meat before he goes, passing Lucifer on his way out the door.
The Avatar of Pride looks impeccable as always; not a hair on his head is out of place as he greets you with a soft smile that falters slightly when he sees that Satan is still helping you in the kitchen.
“Good morning, mc,” he says, scanning your work with warm approval in his gaze. “I see you have been busy. I apologize, had I come down sooner, I would’ve been able to help you prepare your lovely breakfast.”
“Snooze you loose I guess,” Satan smirks, stealing a taste of the whipped cream concoction in the bowl. “This is delicious, we make quite the team, Mc, don’t we?”
Lucifer’s eyebrow twitches, as he turns his back completely to Satan and steps between the two of you. Completely ignoring the fourth-born he gives you all of his attention. “I just came from the dining room, you’ve completely outdone yourself this morning.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” you say sweetly, knowing that he had just told you last week not to push yourself too hard with planning breakfast for everyone.
“Oh?” he turns his head to the side, his crimson eyes filled with fire. “You don’t, Well I’ll have to remind you on our date later then.”
“Does this mean you’ll give me a hint about what you have planned?” you ask, as he shakes his head.
The ringing of the doorbell cuts through the air and you freeze.
They’re here.
And there is still so much to do.
“Oh, have our guests arrived already?” Lucifer asks, checking the wall clock. “It looks like they are right on time.”
“Yep, and I have to finish up. So you should go greet them.”
“Yeah Lucifer,” Satan sniggers. “Get~”
“You too Satan,” you cut in pointing both brothers out the door before they can object. Alone once again, you pull out the heart shaped waffle irons you found and get to work pouring the baby pink batter into the molds.
“There you are Hon,” Asmodeus says striding into the room. His face glowing from his morning routine. “Everything looks Devilgram ready.”
“You included,” you say, eyeing his perfect hair. Not a strand is out of place and his makeup is photoshoot ready. The demon does have a tendency to primp a bit extra when he is nervous.
“You are just the sweetest,” he grins, clinging to you and burying his face into your neck and lowering his voice “But you know, you shouldn't work too hard. Today is for you.”
“It’s for all of us,” you say with a roll of your eyes. “I just want everything to be perfect.”
“You’re not the one who almost ruined everything last year,” a new voice says. Levi sulks behind you, his footsteps dragging across the floor pitifully.
“Nothing was ruined, Levi,” you remind him.
“Yeah… It’s not like some normie pulled you into a pool and waterlogged your DDD,” he says again, bringing up those memories from last year.
“That wasn't your fault.” Your tone a bit more forceful than you planned on it being.
“What was Levi’s fault?” popping out behind the third born, Belphie rubs his eyes. They soften when they land on you.
“Trying to go all siren on Mc, last year.” Asmo chirps, still soaking up every second in your personal space bubble.
“I-it wasn't like that,” he objects, head snapping up. His cheeks an enraged, flustered pink. “Mc, you know I would~”,
“I know, it’s nobody’s fault.” You say kindly, “Let's put it behind us and focus on having a good time today.”
“You’re right,” Asmo says, giving you a wink. “And you are going to have a great time on our date today.”
“Mine too.”
Belphie slings a lazy arm around your shoulders and yawns, yanking you away from Asmo. “That sounds like a lot of work. Maybe you should just skip all the other dates and just nap with me.”
“No way,” Levi objects, the waterpipes rattling as his envy takes over. “You don’t get to hog mc all day.”
Their chatter is throwing you off schedule, and you see the little timers on your waffle irons slowly tick down to the last few seconds. “Everyone out,” you say, pointing toward the door. “I gotta finish up here, and then we can eat.”
The three brothers sulk, but do as you say, leaving you alone with your thoughts and waffle irons. The first batch of waffles was removed just in the nick of time. You stack the steaming, crisp, pink cakes onto the serving platter and start pouring the next batch.
“Those look good,” a new voice says. It seems that a moment of peace in the House of Lamination does not exist today, but you welcome the new presence. A smile tugs at your lips as you see Thirteen tearing a heart-shaped waffle in half. “Look who decided to stop by after all?”
“I can’t stay long,” she says, giving you a hug. Her pale cheeks are covered in soot. “I just wanted to show you my latest trap.” She pulls out a small box of chocolates and hands it to you.
“Is it safe?”
“For now,” she laughs. You take it cautiously, not wanting to rustle the contents and cause an explosion or worse. Sensing your apprehension, she places her hands on her hips. “Oh, come on, it's fine. The trap won’t go off unless you open the box.”
“So they are explosive?” you mutter, placing the box safely on the counter. “What are you going to do with them?”
“I’m gonna set up a booth in Majolish and sell them to everyone who waited till the last minute to get a gift for their Valentine.” Her grin is devilish. “Then, when they open them, it will release a cloud of rose scented stinkbomb.”
“I’ll pretend I didn't hear that,” you laugh. “But are you sure you don’t want to stay for breakfast? It will be fun.”
She shakes her head. “Nah, I gotta get going. ChocoBomb no.81 isn't gonna sell itself. But you should enjoy yourself today. I know everyone else is really looking forward to it.”
You shift your weight as she leaves. “I-I am excited. I just want to have a pleasant day.
Although you aren't sure why, but your stomach twists bitterly as you say those words.
~
Each step is filled with pride as you walk into the dining room, the platters of food floating behind you with a magical flourish. Barbatos is the first to stand, kindly pulling out your chair for you. “Everything looks absolutely wonderful, MC. You should be very proud of yourself,” he murmurs against your ear.
“Thank you,” you beam, getting off your feet for the first time this morning. Really, you have no idea how Barbatos manages to do things like this every single day.
“It’s true,” Diavolo clears his throat. “You have truly outdone yourself. We all are in for quite the treat this morning.”
“Well it’s only fair that I pull my weight somewhere,” you chuckle, “But I’m sorry that Luke can’t join us today.”
Simeon sighs next to you, “After all of the excitement last year, he took an opportunity to assist Michael in the celestial realm today.” You two lock eyes, a bit of embarrassment and sadness in his eyes as he remembers the part he played in last year's fiasco. Gently you reach for his hand under the table and give it a grounding squeeze.
The tender moment is interrupted by the Feral growling of Beels stomach. “Can we eat now? he asks his eyes filled with pain from holding back. “Mc, worked really hard to make all this food for us.”
Solomon frowns, looking around. “I think we are missing someone still.”
“Oh, that’s right. Where is Mammon?”
“So that’s why it was so quiet.”
Lucifer pinches the bridge of his nose. “He should know better than to keep us waiting.”
As if on cue, the Avatar of Greed bursts through the door. His smile blinding as he strides right over to you in your chair. “Mc, did you miss the great Mammon?” he asks, rocking back and forth on his toes. His hands suspiciously behind his back.
“Always,” you smile, relieved. “Happy Valentine's Day, Mammon.”
“You know it is,” he looks around with a smirk before looking back at you. “An I got somethin special for you.” He pulls out a palm sized black velvet box from behind his back and presents it to you.
“I thought we said no presents,” Asmo grumbles.
“You got me a present?” you ask, running your thumb over the case gingerly.
“Yep, because I'm that awesome.” he brags, his eyes filled with eagerness. “Come on, open it.”
“Right now?”
“Could’nt you have given it to them on your date later~ ow.” Levi rubs the sore spot on his arm where Satan had just elbowed him.
“I suppose there is no need to delay Mc, happiness.” Satan muses. “You should open it.”
With a nod, you do so and are rendered speechless when you see the stunning amulet within.“Mammon, this is, wow,” you say, looking at your prismatic reflections in the facets of the gemstone.
“Well, come on, put it on.” He says, removing it from the box and looping it around your neck. He steps back to admire his handiwork, nodding approvingly. “There now, ya look like a million grimm.”
“Wow, you certainly do look lovely in that,” Simeon says. “What a thoughtful gift.”
“Indeed,” Diavolo agrees. “I’ve seen many fine pieces in my lifetime, but none quite like that.”
“Where did you find something like that Mammon?” Belphie asks, “Did you steal it?”
His eyes widened. “What? No” he looks between the unbelieving table and you rapidly. “You gotta understand, I didn't steal anythin.”
“So you bought it?” Lucifer asks, raising a brow.
“With what money? Satan adds. “He’s broke.”
Solomon leans in, soaking up the chaos like a sponge. “Maybe it’s a fake?”
“It’s real.” His eyes turn glassy as he looks at you pitifully. “You believe me, right?”
“I do,” you reassure him, toying with the pendant around your neck. It feels unusually cold against your skin. “And I think it’s beautiful.”
“A gem almost as stunning as you are Hon,” Asmo says, a twinkle in his eyes. “Could I try it out?”
Mammon opens his mouth to object, but is silenced by a stern look from his brother.
“Just for a second, you say,” reaching for the clasp. The minute you touch it, a red-hot pain shoots through your fingertips, and you rip them away.
‘Ow,” you wince. Staring at your throbbing fingers.
All heads snap to you in concern.
“What is it?” Beels asks, “Does your stomach hurt?”
“That’s strange.” You murmur, once again ghosting your fingers over the clasp, the minute the pad of your finger touches the silver, they are once again shocked.
Your eyes grow wide as the gemstone seems to hum against you. “The necklace,” you say, staring down. “ It won’t let me take it off.”
What is wrong with Mammon’s Gift? Read on to find out!
Post-Wildcard Kunigami breaks my heart.
The program taught him that his best qualities were weaknesses. I just want to hold him tight and tell him that he is still my hero!!
~ When a bit of burnout comes to town, you and Keigo decide to keep things cozy and low-key this Valentines Day.
Warnings- suggestive banter and lots of physical touch.
It’s a surprisingly beautiful morning in Keigo’s apartment overlooking the city.
Light streams in through the windowed walls, filling the room better than any lightbulb. Both dressed and ready for work, you and your boyfriend move about the kitchen in a complicated dance, preparing a nice sit-down breakfast to start your week off right.
At the stove, Keigo whistles happily, flipping pancakes in the silly apron you got him for Christmas. His feathers perky as they sway along to a tune you can’t quite place.
You cut fruit absentmindedly, staring off into space as your mind drifts to the upcoming weekend.
Valentine’s Day.
Keigo is a planner; aside from you and a decent piece of chicken, there is nothing he loves more than going all out to plan a date that sweeps you off your feet.
And you do too, usually.
Last year, he had outdone himself. Renting a yacht and taking you on a luxurious sunset dinner cruise around the harbor, hiring a Michelin star kitchen staff, a full orchestra, and one of his sidekicks who made rose petals float through the air like confetti all night long.
It was nothing short of magical.
You loved every minute of that romantic evening, but this year, you are exhausted. The idea of getting all dressed up and going out for some romantically elaborate date sounds overwhelming.
You just don’t know how to say that out loud without sounding ungrateful.
“Uhh hey there, Cutie.” Keigo’s concerned voice says from behind you. “I uhh, think that strawberry has had enough.” his arms snake around you and he gently removes the sharp knife from your hand.
“Huh?” staring down at the cutting board, you see that whilst deep in thought, you have been slicing the same berry over and over again turning it into puree. “Oh, sorry. I didn't realize.”
“What are you thinking about?” he asks knowingly, golden eyes reading your face for clues.
“It’s nothing,” you lie. “Just tired, I guess.”
“Tired,” he repeats, not believing you in the slightest. But he doesn't pry. He trusts that you’ll tell him when you’re ready. “Well maybe some breakfast will help.” he fips the last flawless pancake onto a platter and strides over the little breakfast nook.
“Looks good,” you say, bringing over the fruit and plopping down in your usual seat. He’s still watching you, and you find yourself fidgeting in attempt to look casual. “Sooo, are you ready for this weekend?” You dress your pancakes, watching as the little pat of butter starts to slide from the steaming center.
“Yeah,” he smiles, showing just a flash of his teeth, “Can’t wait.”
There is something there.
Hidden beneath layers of natural charm and Commission-taught deception, there is just a flash of doubt in his expression.
It can’t be possible, can it?
With your intuition fanning the flames of boldness within you, you open your mouth. “Hey, Keigo?”
“What is it?”
“Do you ever just? Maybe we could- I dunno- take it easy this year?” The sentence is garbled, but the intentions are clear.
Keigo pauses mid-sip of his coffee.“You don’t want to do anything this year for Valentine's Day?” His face is unreadable and your heart skips a beat.
For a moment, you worry you have offended him. But once you rip off the bandaid, you can't just stick it back on and act like nothing has happened. “I just was thinking that things have been kinda crazy lately. And we could just have a movie night at home or something.”
He blinks.
Once.
Twice.
On the third, he seems to reset, his wings giving out behind him as he tosses his golden head back and lets out a relieved sigh. “Oh thank God.”
Now you’re the one who is confused.
“Excuse me?”
“No, no, no, wait,” his eyes widen as he begins to frantically wave his hands in the air. “Not you, Babe. Never you.” his wrings his neck and sighs. “I gotta tell you, usually I’m great at this stuff, but this year the inspo has run dry. Last year was tough to beat.”
“Really?
A dry chuckle slips past his lips as he playfully nudges your foot under the table. “Yeah, this year I got nothing. But I still plan on making you my Valentine.”
“Then we should have a quiet night, just the two of us,” you think, relieved at the turn this conversation has taken. “We can just cuddle up, have a little movie night?”
The gears in his brain beginning to spin as he nods along, his eyelids growing so heavy under the weight of love, you are sure the birds flying past the penthouse are feeling shy. “Yeah…”
“Order some takeout?”
There is a purr-like rumble in his chest. “Oh keep talking.”
Your smile grows with each word as you lean in to whisper into the shell of his ear. “We could wear our pj’s.
“Go on?”
“Eat raw cookie dough straight from the log.”
All the air has left his lungs as he shivers, cheeks ruddy. “God I love you.”
~
The week goes by in a flash, and now, while the rest of the world is stuck crammed into tiny tables at overcrowded restaurants with set menus, you emerge from the bedroom in a sinfully comfy sweat seat you have been saving for a special occasion.
Keigo's wings are draped over the back of the couch while he sits cross-legged on one of the cushions in his own comfy clothes. He hasn't noticed you yet, he is busy ‘testing’ the contents of the popcorn bucket for quality control. Clearly he is still worried about it, because the bucket is now half-empty and you haven't started the movie yet.
“How do I look?’ you say, giving a cheesy twirl. The soft, oversized fabric is too heavy to really give in to twirl power, but a soft blush creeps onto your boyfriend's cheeks as he drinks you in.
“Perfect,” he says, adjusting the collar of his white cotton t-shirt.
“Did you order the food?” you ask, plopping down next to him, his left wing immediately wrapping around your shoulders, his silky feathers tickle your skin as you breathe in the strong smell of his ridiculously expensive shampoo.
He grabs his phone from the coffee table and shows you the screen with a pleased grin. “Our driver is ten minutes out, and I picked our movie lineup. He pulls up the queue and you notice that he has quite the marathon at the ready.
“This is like three days' worth of movies,” you tease. “You know it’s supposed to be a date night, right?”
He shrugs, looking completely at peace as he rests on your knee, giving it a playful squeeze. He's always been affectionate; Stealing little touches wherever he can, like simply holding you recharges his battery. “Hey, you know I’m a planner.”
“I know, I’ve seen you pack underwear for a weekend away.”
“Come on, you gotta be prepared for anything,” he laughs, pulling you closer into his side, but that damn popcorn bucket is preventing you from being as cozy as you’d like.
True,” you muse, eyeing the popcorn bucket still taking up valuable real estate on his lap. “Alright Kei, you can either spend the night with the popcorn bucket or me.”
“It’s gone,” he blinks, scrambling to move the bucket to the floor so you adjust your position, resting your back against the cushions and draping your legs over his lap.
“Comfy? He grins as a few feathers take flight from his wings. They grab a few blankets from their folded pile and plop them on top of you.
“Too Comfy,” you say, “When the food gets here, I don’t think either of us will want to move.” This makes him laugh, the stumble on his chin tickling your skin as he kisses you teasingly starting at the corner of your mouth and trailing up to your temple.
“That would be a problem for anyone who isn't me,” he laughs as a little red feather floats by, booping you on the nose. “Come on baby, just relax,” he coos, his nails trailing lightly up your arm. “You won’t have to lift a finger tonight. How does that sound?”
“Tempting,” you hum as you lean back against him, turning your head so you can see his face. “And what do you get in return?”
“I’m a simple guy,” he shrugs, knowing that to you, he is anything but. “All I want is to keep you in my arms all night long. And maybe get a thousand more of these?”
Before you can ask what he means, his lips capture yours, and you melt. You feel his warm palms on your skin, as he drinks you up. In the background, the first movie of the night begins to play, but neither of you seem to notice.
It's Monday and it's a new month.
Things have been a bit chaiotic lately in my personal life. I have trouble when it comes to saying no to things and kinda get swept into lots of projects and other things that end up draining me.
But you guys would be glad to know that I did say no to a pretty big thing that would've blacked out a whole week of my time, so that's a little victory.
Although I haven't been able to sit down and write very much these last few weeks I would like to really work hard to give you guys your Valentine's Day oneshots by the end of the month! I promise this won't be another Emoji Event thing where it takes me a whole calendar year to post them all!
~
Here is what I'll definetly be posting this week. (I'd put more, but I think i'm gonna set the bar low so I can blow you all away)
➼ Clasped Chaos pt. 2
➼ Hawks + at home movie date+ 🩷
No poll this week since I am working on event posts that you guys requested!
~Beels Sweet Dream becomes a reality this Valentines Day with just a bit of magical interference.
W.C- 2.3k
a/n: Happy Valentine's Day! This is the first of many entries for the ‘Be Mine Event’. Thank you to all you lovely humans who participated!
It’s one of those nights where you find yourself between sleep and awake. As you rest, you remain aware of the warmth radiating from Beel’s frame as he holds you close. His steady breathing, a metronome that rocks you, and the mattress, in soothing rhythm.
Each breath pulls you deeper and deeper into the sweet embrace of slumber, when suddenly. You are yanked back to reality as the Demon next to you jolts up, the blankets pooling around his waist.
“Beel?” you mumble sleepily, recalling the massive jug of water he downed after his evening workout. “Do you have to go to the bathroom again?” He doesn't answer, nor does he lie back down in bed.
As much as it pains you to do so, you peel open your heavy eyelids to check on your Demon. His eyes are closed, but a famished, blissful expression takes over his face. Eyes flutter beneath his lids as he begins to move, doing something strange with his arms. He’s not quite flailing them; there is a rhythm to it. It isn't until he completes a few fluid cycles that you realize that he is doing a swimming motion in his sleep.
Carefully, you sit up, observing this strange sleep-swimming phenomenon with wonder, when suddenly, he changes directions. His right arm now swings in the direction of your head.
You lurch backwards, barely dodging the massive tree branch of demonic muscle as you fall out of your own bed.
The sound of your body hitting the carpet is enough to rouse the sleep-swimming demon. Rubbing his eyes, he looks around, noticing your missing presence.
“Oh… Mc. What are you doing on the floor?” he asks when his eyes find you. He then tilts his head cluelessly to the side, unaware of the role he played in the journey.
But honestly, he is looking down at you with so much care in his gaze that you can’t bring yourself to be mad at him.
“I think you were dreaming, Beel,” you say. Rubbing the sore spot on your backside as you climb back up into bed.
He scoots over and smoothes out the sheets for you, his whole face lighting up as he nods, “I was, it was a really good dream too.”
“What was it?”
His orange brows furrow as he recalls the foggy details. “I was…On a boat. And I was sailing through a river of chocolate, the current was really rapid, and it kept splashing everywhere.”
“That does sound like a good dream,” you muse, getting cozy under his arm.
He yawns loudly, smacking his lips as he pulls you closer. “I wish it was real,” he mumbles, as you let loose a yawn of your own.
Using his head as a pillow, you listen to the steady beating of his heart as you teeter off the edge of wakefulness.
In the back of your mind, however, you keep coming back to his dream, wondering if maybe you could make it come true.
~
Not everyone is allowed to reserve a private banquet room at RAD for a private Valentine’s date, but then again, not everyone is you.
It didn't take much coaxing to convince Barbatos to hand over the keys, but when he did, his smile was a bit too wide as he reminded you to please clean up after yourself.
Or else…
Having brought extra cleaning supplies so as to not incur the wrath of the Royal Butler, you look around at the sparkling room, which is almost ready for Beel’s sweet surprise.
After seeing how happy his dream had made him a few nights ago. You decided to do your best to bring it to life for him with the help of a small chocolate fountain you found in the clearance aisle of a human world department store.
After eyeballing the height of the vaulted ceiling and the width of the nearly-empty room, you pour in a generous amount of freshly-melted chocolate into the base of the fountain and flip the ‘on’ switch.
It buzzes and hums as the chocolate bubbles and is sucked into the base of the tower and sent cascading down the cylindrical tiers that grow in size with each layer, creating a lovely liquid curtain of chocolate you can’t help but taste test.
Yep… that’s chocolate.
As the fountain continues to flow smoothly, you place the most adorable, pixie-crafted wooden rowboat into the candied waters, taking a moment to gush over the intricate details carved into the wooden oars.
Surprisingly, it bobs in the currant, floating just as it would in water, and you feel an immense weight lifted off of your chest as you move to implement the next step of your (untested) plan.
From your pocket, you pull a skinny glass vial filled with a bright orange vapor and swirl it around, watching as the color deepens.
Once it reaches the color of molten lava, you recall the instructions Solomon gave you when you borrowed this particular potion.
‘Once you uncork the vial, place it on the ground with the lip of the vial facing away from you,’ he warned, with an alarmingly serious expression on his face. ‘Once you do so, leave the room as quickly as you can and do your best not to breathe in any of the smoke.’
Your hand trembles as you do exactly that, crouching to the stone floor, you set the vial down, pointing the opening toward the fountain in the center of the room. Taking a deep breath, your thumb pushing out the cork, sending it flying a few feet away. Holding your breath, you are out the door before it lands, shutting the door behind you tightly as the spell takes hold of the room. You have no idea what this potion would do to your human body, but you are in no mood to find out today.
With the hard part now done, all you have to do is one more small task before Beel arrives to see his sweet dream turn into a hopefully sweeter reality.
~
Are you ready?” you ask, your hand warm in Beel’s as you guide the blindfolded Avatar of Gluttony to the banquet room. Where the surprise should be ready and waiting.
The quiet hallways carry your nervous energy as you guide him to the room. Mind going a thousand miles a minute as you start to worry.
What if the spell didn't work?
Or worse, what if it worked too well?
What if you come back to a completely destroyed banquet hall and have to spend the rest of your mortal life working for Barbatos to pay for the damages?
Beel stops. The shift in momentum causes you to as well. He inhales deeply through his nose. “What’s this?” His features light up with recognition as you, too, start to smell the familiar scent of warm chocolate flowing through the halls, inviting you closer. “I smell-”
“Sush.” you tease, getting on your tiptoes to cover his mouth with your hand, his lips tickle your skin as your pleased smile grows. “Don’t spoil the surprise.”
He nods and kisses your palm. The intimate sensation makes you feel warm all over, as if you were dunked into the fountain like a strawberry. “You taste like it too,” he hums. “It’s making me hungry.”
“It’s a good thing we are almost there then,” you wink, lowering your hand and pulling him forward a few more paces until you are right outside the doors to the banquet hall. Nervously, you place your other hand on the smooth wooden door and exhale shakily.
Maybe you should’ve tested this out first before going all in.
You shake the rational thought from your head and push open the doors, walking with Beel just a few more steps. As you take in the utterly glorious sight in front of you.
It’s perfect, that growth potion worked like a charm.
The once small fountain has grown to the ceiling, the drizzle of chocolate now flowing through it like a waterfall. The now enlarged rowboat circles the outside of the fountain lazily, just waiting for you two to take a ride inside it.
You feel giddy as you look back at Beel, who is definitely not ready for the sight in front of him.
“Alright, Beel,” you say in an awestruck whisper. “You can look now.”
No sooner does he remove the blindfold do his eyes become saucers, widening as he triple takes the sight in front of him.
“Happy Valentine's Day.”
“Is this all for me?” he blinks dreamily, as if he is about to dive headfirst into the chocolate fountain.
“Yes, it’s all for you.”
“It’s just like the dream I had the other night.” He muses, walking up to the edge of the fountain and tasting some chocolate on his finger. His eyelids flutter. “S’ good.”
“That’s not all,” you say with a wave of your hand. Platters of sweets you had prepped after shutting the doors float into the room. “ I got lots of things we can dip into the fountain.”
When that platter of Luke's signature Celestial shortbread cookies passes him by, he looks close to fainting. Only to be revived by the next platters of blood strawberries and fluffy homemade marshmallows.
“This is,” he’s breathless as he rubs his eyes once again just to make sure he isn't in another Wonkaesque dream. “This is amazing, Mc. You really did all this for me?”
You nod as the demon scoops you off the ground, hugging you breathless. “I wanted to do something special.”
“This is special,” he beams, eyeing the little rowboat as his stomach begins to growl. “ Does the boat really work?” He asks hopefully.
“I hope so,” you answer, an unsure tremor to your grin. The oars may be a bit more stubborn in the chocolate versus water, and the untested boat may capsize, but if there is one thing you are sure of, it’s that even if you were to fall into the base of the fountain, Beel would surely drain the whole thing before anything truly terrible would happen to you.
“Can we try it out?”
You nod as he bounds happily around the base of the fountain, to where the boat has drifted against the ripples of the fountain. “Ready?” you ask, relieved to see that the inside has not sprung a delicious leak.
He lowers himself into the belly of the rowboat slowly, his feet testing the sturdy bottom before extending a hand to you. “It’s safe, I think. Did you use magic to do this?”
“I had a little help,” you admit. “The growth potion will wear off in a few hours, so we can either sit back or go crazy.”
A platter of diligently cut melon floats just under your noses, and Beel drools. “I want to go crazy,” he breathes. “Can we do so together?”
“Always,” you nod as your lips curve into a devilish smile. He pushes off the side of the fountain, and the boat begins to drift off towards the center. You grab the oars, but find that rowing through a lake of chocolate is much harder to do than one of water.
Your muscles strain as you force them through the dense liquid. Beel, noticing the intense look of concentration on your face, gently leans over and takes them from you. “Here, let me. You’ve done so much already.”
“Thanks, Beel,” you beam, relieved you don’t have to row for the next few hours.
He looks down at the chocolate-dipped paddle. “Looks good enough to eat.”
“Beel… please don’t eat the oars,” you warn. “We need those.”
He laughs, “I won’t,” and you want to believe him, but you beckon a few of the enchanted platters closer.
Just in case.
He starts to row, analyzing the area around you. “What kind of magic did you use to do this?”
“A growth potion,” you say. “We have a few hours till it wears off, but I think that’s more than enough time for us to enjoy ourselves.”
He nods. Eyeing the chocolate lake like draining it is a challenge to conquer.
You grab a particularly plump strawberry from the platter, “Looks good,” you mutter, leaning off the edge of the boat to dip the fruit into the liquefied chocolate.
“Mc, wait.” Beel’s warning comes a bit too late as the boat crashes over a ripple in the fountain, and you are thrown off balance and sent tumbling out of the boat.
The strawberry plops into the water as you throw out your hands and hold your breath; the faint thud of the oars hitting the belly of the rowboat goes unheard by you as you prepare to become a chocolate-dipped human. Your fingertips dip into the chocolate waters when an arm loops around your waist, keeping you from fully submerging.
“Careful, I don’t think I could hold myself back if you were to fall in,” he breathes, steadying the boat and holding you close.
A flustered heat rushes through you as you find yourself the object of his hungry gaze.
“Thank you, that wouldn't have been very fun,” you say, staring down at your candy-coated fingertips.
“May I?” he asks, reaching out, his fingers wrap around your wrist with a featherlight grip, and you allow him to raise your fingers to his mouth. Your head spins as he kisses each drop of chocolate from your fingertips. The gleam in his eyes making him look like he has just won the lottery.
In a way, he did.
I am so sorry!
I can't do that one since I am not doing character repeats for this event. Thank you so much for making a request, if you have another character I don't mind adding it to the list.
I have brought flowers for you because you are awesome
🌷🌸🌹🌺🌻🌺🌹🌸🌷🌸🌹🌺🌻
—🐦⬛
🥹
Flowers!? For Meeeeee!!?
I'm blushingggg, thank you so much! Let me find a vase for them and put them in the window. <3
Here are some chocolates just for you!
first of all i love your works, they're so fluffy and cute and i end up reading the stuff from fandoms im not in just for your writing. I just LOVE the fluff
I just wanted to ask, do you have a posting schedule? At least for the series? I just can't wait for the new parts so that would be very nice to know 𐔌՞ ܸ.ˬ.ܸ՞𐦯 It's okay if you don't, writing stuff takes time
Bye <3
Hiiii! 😊
AHHHH THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE COMPLIMENT! I DO THE SAME THING WITH SOME FANDOMS TOO <3
So sorry it has taken me so long to get back to you! It's been a crazy week💞
I do need to put together a more definitive posting schedglue, but in reguards to my Clasped Chaos series, I think I'll try to post a part every two weeks.
Part 2 will probably be posted next weekend since it takes me a bit longer to plan and write things out!
