(๑╹ω╹๑ )

Lucifer

Everything turned black as night.

Ah, you thought. I’m done.

You slumped into the road, a defenseless mortal wad of pain and anguish, angrily resigned to your fate. In a half-conscious state of deliriousness, you could hear Lucifer’s voice. He sounded madder than that one time he caught one of Asmodeus’ stalkers lurking around the house.

“You have some nerve, targeting my family.”

A gust of hot wind rolled over you. Dirt and sand bounced off your hand. The thought of Lucifer being mad was a strangely small comfort. Though it was something you always avoided, it was also familiar. You'd had to stop Lucifer from overly punishing his brothers on more than one occasion, and even been the source of his ire a number of times. You would rather live through a thousand more of his lectures than simply be torn apart in this obscure alleyway.

“Know your place,” Lucifer scowled, his voice a deep thundering rumble that cut through the creature’s screams.

You couldn’t process what was happening. Your muscles were locked up, everything hurt, your energy was sapped and time seemed to nebulously stretch on forever. You couldn’t even register the pitch black void in front of you as Lucifer’s outstretched wings, shielding you from the utter torture your tormentor was now facing before he ended their life. How very typical that Lucifer would show no mercy to a threat.

Your body was just trying to survive. It paid no heed to the maelstrom of magical power brewing, to the wickedly powerful demonic energy filling the alley. You don’t even know how you came to be cradled in Lucifer’s arms, bundled in his coat. Only that, when you came to, he was wiping your dirty cheek and slicking back matted hair to gaze into your unfocused eyes. His eyebrows were knit together in immense worry. His frown lines were deeper than usual, drawing a sharp border around his grimaced teeth. It was quite unlike him.

Yet there was no time for this. You were being chased. You tried to turn your head, to look over Lucifer’s shoulder and find where that hunter was lurking, oblivious to how the muscles in your neck refused to cooperate. Lucifer’s hold on your back tightened and he tucked you against his chest.

“It’s alright now,” he said. The Avatar of Pride’s voice, full of conviction, sounded like he was trying to assuage himself just as much as you. “I have you.”

“Lucifer?”

It seemed too good to be true, but he nodded in response. From the weak sound of your voice, his shoulders untensed just enough that you could feel them curve in around you.

“I have you,” he repeated. “Rest easy now. We’re going home.”

Mammon

There was a confusing flurry of movement as Mammon placed himself between you and the attacker. The Avatar of Greed looked uncannily menacing with fury in his eyes and an unforgiving scowl on his face. Air from his wings kicked up debris, turning the thin alleyway into a wind tunnel.

“How dare…” He snarled, clenching his hands into fists so hard that his veins popped under his skin. “How dare you touch what’s mine.”

The creature turned tail to run, clearly outmatched, but its fate was sealed the instant Mammon appeared. He caught up in a single leap while winding a punch that sent your attacker flying down the road, into the wall of the building on the corner. It collapsed, sending chunks of brick crashing to the ground while Mammon continued after it.

He didn’t plan ahead, he just moved. Millennia of fighting experience and a massive innate talent made this demon a horrifying predator, something you luckily didn’t see often. Mammon sent a burst of magic to further block the road and created an explosion, shooting smoke and flames into the air. The fiend had to pay dearly, and Mammon would make sure to collect.

You could hear stone getting tossed aside, scattering across the pavement, and heavy whacks as he beat into the monster. The tables had been turned, there was nowhere for it to escape. Mammon’s knuckles ran black and red with its blood, which coagulated between the bent prongs of his rings as he finished the job, bringing the heel of his boot down upon the creature’s skull. An undignified ending for an undignified piece of trash.

Mammon was back at your side before the dust from the fallen wall settled, crying your name, falling to his knees as he lifted your shoulders and pulled you into his lap. He ran his hands over your face, over your arms, down your back in a panicked appraisal. All body parts accounted for.

“That hurts,” you mumbled through a busted lip. Everything hurt. Especially when Mammon gasped in relief and clutched you into a full-body embrace. You wished his jacket didn’t have so many cold metal studs.

“Man, you can’t scare me like this! Moron! Idiot!” he yelled into your shoulder while a warm tear rolled onto your arm. “Why didn’t ya call for me sooner? You could’ve died! How’m I ever supposed to let ya out of my sight if you’re gettin’ in trouble like this, huh!?”

Leviathan

There was a scream, but not from you or your attacker. Leviathan didn’t expect to be summoned into his worst nightmare. One calm moment he was mindlessly collecting daily game bonuses and the next instant his DDD was falling into the street as he stared at your unmoving figure.

You were still breathing, however, there was no time to stop and confirm that. Every kind of anxiety bubbled its way to the surface as Leviathan’s body moved on its own. His teeth clacked together and he couldn't swallow. His tail lashed from side to side, cracking like a whip as heavy raindrops began to flood the alleyway.

Whoever did this was not going to escape. As though playing through a game he'd beaten a dozen times before, the Avatar of Envy’s eyes expertly locked on to his target. For a moment, all they did was stare at each other. The creature’s grin narrowed along with Leviathan’s eyes, and by the time it decided to escape Leviathan had already decided on its fate.

The creature got swept off its feet by a rising flood that came out of nowhere. Even if it could breathe under water, it would not survive the pressure for long.

Leviathan turned his back to hover over you, gloved hands shaking. A deluge cascaded down the alleyway, sparing only the two of you in your own little magic bubble. Heavy stones that had sat for centuries were carried away like pebbles. Building foundations cracked. The roar of water was deafening and drowned out the airless screams of your pursuer, but Leviathan could only hear the heartbeat pounding in his own ears. What was he going to do? What could he do?

A trickle of water had soaked through the dirt, turning part of the dry ground beneath you to mud. Unacceptable. Before he could even think of a proper plan, Leviathan scooped you into his arms and leaned you against him, cradling your head in the least awkward way he could imagine.

“H-hey… Say something?” It was hard for him to talk with tears welling up in his eyes that he couldn’t wipe away. He feared you were past the point of responding. His hands shook and his throat tightened.

The world sounded quiet inside the bubble, aside from Leviathan’s whimpering. You groaned and tried to move your foot, which swelled uncomfortably in its shoe. Leviathan nearly dropped you in relief.

Water, which had just begun receding outside, began falling anew from his eyes as he shakily repeated, “you’re alive! You’re alive!” and nuzzled his forehead against you.

Satan

Wrath flowed through Satan like wet ink on a page. If you asked him later what exactly happened, he wouldn’t be able to tell you. It was a blur to both you and him.

As soon as he laid eyes on you, weak and beaten and alone, Satan called your name. You didn't respond. He dug his nails into his palm, coiled his tail tightly around his leg, and called your name again. After the third time, he saw your finger move and could breathe.

Reason could wait for later. Something stirred in the shadows behind you and Satan really needed a punching bag.

The air grew thick with curses stacked upon curses, layered over one another into deadly combinations that would haunt a being into their afterlife. Though you weren’t the intended recipient, it became a miasma that settled over your skin like a fine blanket and turned your thoughts to haze.

Satan lashed out verbally, speaking the spells you couldn’t and damning the creature into a personal hell of his creation. He shouted his voice hoarse. When the creature could no longer move, or speak, or do anything, Satan tore it apart limb from limb. To complete and total shreds that could never be pieced back together again, until his fury ran its course and gave way to more unpleasant feelings. Desperation, worry, guilt and grief.

He was still mad. Mad at you for not summoning him sooner. Mad at himself for not being there when you needed him. Mad at the universe for being so cutthroat and unforgiving, for allowing such a thing to happen in the first place. It was a deep pit of unpleasantness and you were the one spark of hope that could keep him sane.

He couldn’t let that spark go out. Satan crouched next to you, hovering his hands over your injuries. “It’s okay now,” he said. “It’s gone. I’ll get you home.”

Where was he supposed to touch? He tried to puzzle out the best way to lift you without causing more pain, but no matter what he did, it would hurt. You cried out upon realizing your shoulder was dislocated and ankle most likely broken, shattering his heart into more pieces as he sifted you in his arms.

Satan grit his teeth once more and buried his face in your hair. He gripped you a little too hard, justifying it with the idea that it would stop your bleeding. “I’m sorry it hurts, but hang in there for now. You can be mad at me later.”

Asmodeus

“Hey, hon?”

Asmodeus sounded unnervingly calm. His usual bubbly demeanor was gone. That consistent high pitched energy he brought to every conversation had shifted. You thought you were hearing things. Maybe an angel was talking to you.

“Hon, I need you to look at me.”

Eyelids that felt like steel curtains refused to cooperate. Every time you wrestled your eyes open a smidge, they would fall shut again, blocking out the overstimulating world around you with a deep darkness.

“Stay with me, hon. Look at me. That’s right, just like that.”

You could barely make out Asmodeus’ gorgeous face practically glowing above you. Everything was too bright, and your ears rang as he continued, his voice ever so slightly cracking, “Look only at me and nothing else. Can you do that?”

Some noise of agreement welled out of your throat and Asmodeus grinned sadly. His beautiful demonic form took up your entire vision as your senses gradually, painfully, returned. You realized you were standing, propped up on your own two injured legs but leaning heavily into the crook of Asmodeus’ upper arm. His elbow provided support for your lower back and his hand stretched out between your shoulder blades.

There was a horrible gurgling sound close by, punctured by chokes and desperate gasps and the occasional snap. Your limited line of sight trailed down Asmodeus’ neck and followed his outstretched arm. You craned your neck, willing it to move, to see what was in his hand.

“Ah-ah, eyes on me,” he reminded you, sweet as sugar. “You don’t have to look at anything else. Everything will be okay. Just focus solely on me, and then we can go home and take a nice bath together.”

You would have nodded if you could. Placing your whole attention on Asmodeus’ face gave you something to focus on other than the horrendous pain. He was looking at something just out of view with a cold concentration, yet every few seconds his eyes would flick towards your direction. The gurgling noise got weaker and weaker until, finally, Asmodeus dropped the unseen object in his hand and swept you off your feet, relieving your legs from having to strain any further.

“You did so well,” he cooed, brushing a strand of hair behind your bleeding ear. You had so many injuries. You’d need a whole lot of prescription kisses to get better, per doctor Asmodeus’ orders.

A light gust fanned your face as he flapped his wings, preparing for liftoff. “Eyes on me until we’re home, okay? Don’t look down, even for a second.”

Beelzebub

You had lost consciousness. Though, for how long was uncertain. The ground was shaking when you came to and you could see the sky again. The stars spinned. Your arms throbbed, one from its wounds and the other because you had collapsed on top of it, temporarily cutting off its circulation.

Everything was a total mess and loud noises bounced off what few walls remained on the street. Crunching, snapping, bones splitting in half. Seeing as you were still in one piece, the creature must have found something else to play with. Dust from the rubble billowed up in massive clouds. You hoped to escape under its cover through one of the now-destroyed buildings.

There was a chilling roar. A shout so loud and full of emotion it made the ringing in your ears sound quiet. You were temporarily paralyzed in fear, but the small bit of hope inside of you forced you to drag your leg up and move in order to crawl to shelter.

The sensation was grueling. You winced and gasped and tried to resist crumpling back up on the ground when suddenly, the sound stopped and something hurried your way.

A familiar tall silhouette with familiar red hair and black horns. An unfamiliar red and black streak shining in the starlight coated the front of his shirt. His wings twitched, shedding drops of blood that flecked the ground. 

“You’re alive.” Beelzebub said it more for his own validation than yours. He rubbed his eyes to stop tears from welling up any further. It quickly dawned on him that his hands were covered in gore, which he quickly tried to hide by smearing the viscera on his pants.

Your mind was still out of sorts and you instinctively cowered when he rushed to your side. Beelzebub froze. He couldn’t see the pained expression you wore with your face turned towards the ground, but he saw how your entire body shook with its final traces of adrenaline. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, approaching you more cautiously. “I should have come sooner. No, I should have walked home with you from the start.”

Beelzebub was not used to fragile things. He bent over you like a giant shield, blocking out the destruction he had caused. It was quiet. He dislodged a rock stuck to your shirt and studied all the cuts he was too late to prevent.

The calm allowed your brain stop racing enough to finally recognize him as a friend. You reached out a hand and he picked you up with as light a touch he could muster, supporting your aching knees and keeping your head nestled against his chest as he hugged your shoulders. The wet spot on his shirt was drying. 

"You don't have to worry now," Beelzebub told you. "I'll take care of everything."

Belphegor

You couldn’t see a thing.

Somebody grabbed you from behind. Warm, slender fingers covered your eyes and a voice in your ear stated, “It’s okay. All of this is a bad dream.”

It did not feel like a dream. A banshee-like shriek pierced through the air and you thought your heart would stop. The grip on your face got tighter, almost suffocating. The whole world was dark.

“Everything is just fine,” Belphegor continued. “You’re having a nightmare but it will all be over soon.” 

You were dragged back into a corner, away from the middle of the road. The Avatar of Sloth worked to get you somewhere safe first and foremost. Your shoes skid over the stone ground, sending jolts of pain up your knees as he instructed, “Keep your eyes shut.”

You settled into an uncomfortable slouched position against a cold wall. Belphegor tried to make things better, he knew a thing or two about comfort, but every position was uncomfortable in your state. His hand slid down off your face, making sure your heavy eyelids stayed closed, and you heard footsteps walk away from you. The soft tuft of Belphegor’s tail lingered by your leg just a second longer so you knew he was going to return.

“Disgusting,” he muttered. You didn’t hear it over the shout of agony, something inhuman that got cut off mid-cry. A clear thud indicated something fell to the ground. Then it was kicked.

“Just a bad dream,” Belphegor repeated between kicks. His voice was gentle in an unnatural way. Strained, like he was having a tough time keeping it together. “When you wake up, everything will be fine.”

Thud followed thud. It became rhythmic, like counting sheep, and it got more violent before it finally stopped.

Your own continuous pants of distress continued until Belphegor came back and gently pat your head. You did good, holding out this long and keeping your eyes shut for him.