🅳🆁🅴🅰🅼 🅾🅽

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Many people had been trying to reassure Belphegor lately, but it didn’t do much to help them, not when Cupid still hadn’t returned. Most of them had tried to convince them that Maze would look after her, but that wasn’t all that helpful. They tried to contain their emotions, but once Asta hugged them, they erupted into sobs. Had any human been around, they surely would’ve been brought down by Belphegor’s waves of depressive energy. The idea that they needed to believe in her struck them though. “I do believe in her.” Cupid was strong and she could do practically anything. They just didn’t know what she could do to get back. “How long will it last then?” Because they didn’t know how long they could last. That voice in their head kept telling them to end it, and it got more tempting as time went on.

Asta held onto them tightly. Their emotions circulated into the air around them, their power was tremendous. It broke her heart though, that their suffering was so powerful to rip the world around them. Suffering that no one was able to stop, not even Bells themself. The only one who could, the only one who would, was not here. Asta believed in Cupid, in her return. But until then, in the now moments, it would continue to be painful. For non more so then Belphegor. “You probably believe in her more then anyone else,” Asta spoke gently to them. “And she believes in you just as much,” She didn’t know Cupid like she knew Bells, but it still felt like a fact. "I...” Asta wished she had a good answer for their question. “I can’t be certain of when she’ll be back, but I am certain though, that Cupid would want you to hold on. She loves you Bells.” That, that was something Asta did know was a fact. “Hold onto that.” 

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She was almost disappointed that Asta wasn’t saying what she thought she was saying. She rose a brow as Asta explained that she wasn’t allowed to stay in love. “You’re a prince of Hell, Asta. I doubt anyone aside from Lucifer can tell you what to do, and he wouldn’t waste time on delegating your love live.” Lucifer was pretty relaxed in how he handled his siblings as long as they weren’t causing serious problems for him. They were all their own people. They could make their own choices. Maze felt even more confused as Asta explained that the deaths weren’t a choice on her part. Well, then whose choice was it? “So it’s like a curse then?” she surmised. Considering what was going on with the other princes, it made sense. “How long has this been going on?”

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She wanted to giggle at that. She wanted to laugh, to find it amusing. More then anything else though, Asta wanted it to be true. If all the one she had to worry about telling her not to love was Lucifer, there would be so little reason to worry. Things would be easier, they would be better. But no, things would never be easier, nor would they ever be better. “I wish that was true.” But to waste time on wishes, in her long life, was something pathetic. She should have known better. She did know better. (And yet she still wished, she still wanted). “Yes.” She responded softly, shamefully. “I believe you know by who.” Who else would it be after all? That was a fair question, and Asta shut her eyes to prepare herself for the answer. “... I think since the fall.” She admitted, ashamed of the answer. “I don’t have direct proof of that but... it stands to reason.”

He could see that she was fighting with herself. she wanted to run. she always wanted to run. she was one of the oldest among them but also the flightiest. he could never really trust her with too much responsibility because she always ran when it got hard. she hadn’t always been like that. she stood her ground during the war, but that was the last time he could recall asta standing for anything. it was about to get very hard. they both had some truths to face. she her own and he the lies he’d been covering all these centuries. “we both better get used to the taste of i’m sorry,” he replied as he took a swig from the bottle he’d grabbed. he wanted to help her. did he wish she would’ve come to him sooner? yes. did he want her to suffer just because she hadn’t? no. no one deserved to suffer as they suffered. being cast out was punishment enough, the curses were just cruelty. “we’re immortal and have nothing but time so let’s go with the long version.” 

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She loved her family. It was why the war had hurt so much. even those who called themselves family no more, they still were. their loss was salt in the wound. after the wall, asta had become tired of her wound’s being salted. it’d become easier not to have them altogether. there was no reward without risk so she had stopped yearning for reward. then the risk became attached to any potential relationship she could concede, and her fleeing became sprints in any direction other then the hard one. she nodded her head somberly, feeling dryness tight in her throat. “the long version it is.” she echoed the words and shut her eyes tightly, preparing herself. she needed to tighten her fist, keep her breath sharp, remind herself to try and be factual. if she were to slip, then there would be no getting up. she would drown in her own emotions on the topic, and she’d rather try and avoid that in front of her youngest brother (however taller then her he may be). 

“you know me before the war, always the fool for love.” she smiled humorlessly and with glassy eyes. “after the war- it wasn’t- after the war. i was- well,” she bit onto her breath, hateful of how her communication lacked. how even speaking about it made her sputter like a fool. it was embarrassing. “i was doing what most of us were.” mourning. “love had been easier before the war. before it, i’d gone looking. after, it just kept... finding me.” she said the words with sorrow. like she was being found by something awful then what one would consider love to be. for someone who used to love love, it truly was. “the first time i was convinced it’d been a tragedy. bad luck or misfortunate. i never considered-” she inhaled, blinking back tears and refusing to let them fall. “you tell someone you love them and then they- they die.” she inhaled deeply once again, saying those words out loud was something painful. they hurt to say, to admit, and the worst pain of al came from their truth. she loved someone and they died. 

yet she kept loving. maybe she was a idiot, or maybe just a monster. the only thing asta knew of herself for sure, was that she was selfish. she wanted to be better. if not for herself, then for them. her family. 

“that first time, it hurt too much for me to think it over deeply. so i didn’t.” another point of her being a fool, an idiot, who didn’t see what was right in front of her. she made effort not to think of him, her first victim. not his face, not his eyes, not his smile, no no. she couldn’t get caught in that grief as well, she just couldn’t. “then it just kept happening.” her voice was frail as she continued. “the people you love keep dying the moment you realize you love them.” again, she inhaled deeply. trying to keep her tone even. “once i knew- once i realized... i began looking into curses. how to break them.” she spent hours mulling and researching, trying to be her own savior. “and i- i tried. there were so many, and i just- i kept trying, i did.” but the trying became more painful with every failure. “i didn’t want to fall in love, but it kept-” she swallowed down the emotion, she had to. “it sounds ridiculous, i know it does. if you don’t want to fall in love, you don’t. but i-” there was a part of her that wondered if that was part of the curse. the lack of control over her own feelings, her own ability to keep them in check. “i feel like a bloody idiot, because it just- it kept happening. i knew what would happen, i knew, but i--- it kept happening. i would call one my friend, or i would see them so barley and then-” her heart skipped a beat in the memories so painful. “then they were gone.” unless asked, she wouldn’t go into the details. speaking their names, speaking about them, it would hurt too much. she wouldn’t be able to keep herself together then (was she now? she was trying, she was trying so hard. he was her little brother. she was already selfish, she was already unreliable, he was her little brother and she was- asta was pathetic). “the best solution i found was...” it was just a word, yet saying it felt something exhausting. “isolation.” it shouldn’t be so painful, yet that word hurt the same as any wound. “but i...” she eyes shut tightly, again trying to fight the emotion. she wanted to be strong. “i’m sorry.” he had said she’d be saying the words, be getting used to them. he was right.

Oh boy, Ronnie thought. Her little comment hadn’t gone over well at all. Turning off her laptop so she could give her full attention to the blonde. “I wasn’t serious you know, I was just annoyed because you were being loud.” She sighed. “Clearly your upset about something, if you don’t want to tell me why, okay, but perhaps I can still help you navigate the library in some way?” Ronnie was invested now, she wanted the help the girl weather she liked it or not. “Please, I just want to help. I’m more capable than you probably realize.”

She pursed her lips sharply, hesitant on allowing help from an outside unknown resource. She was never one much for pride (That was Lucifer’s thing after all), but there was hesitation in putting trust or even leeway into an unknown entity. But- she couldn’t afford to be prideful, or to turn away help. She wouldn’t give away too much, she decided, but she’d alleviate as much as she could. “I’m looking into breaking curses.” She explained. “Strong ones.” 

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He could tell that she was struggling with something, though he didn’t know what it was. Looking at the book itself didn’t tell him anything immediately, and you could never really judge a book by its cover, or by the cover of a book that someone else was reading. “What exactly are you trying to make progress on?” he questioned, curiosity overtaking his desire to stay out of it and just get these books to safety. “Maybe I can help. I’m pretty familiar with libraries and research.”

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There was part of her that had been expecting him to already know. If not for her sibling’s faith in him then for the hope she wouldn’t have to say it herself, to admit all her wrongdoings and regrets. Part of her still rather not, even knowing Sam was someone trustworthy. It was the reminder of that, that let her tell him, even if she chose not to slip into details (she couldn’t do details, there were things she would not want to say unless prompted). “You know of my brother’s curse?” She asked, hand clenching in her own shame (if she had been braver, if she had been stronger, if she had reached out back then--- ... ). Maybe she wouldn’t be here. 

Veronica wasn’t usually the type to do her work in public places, libraries especially. Her daughter and therapist had encouraged the scientist to get out more though, so she’d taken to getting an occasional coffee out and doing a bit of her computer work there instead of in her lab or at her office at S.H.I.E.L.D. Headquarters. She’d been attempting to finish some nano tech blue prints when the woman beside her began to assault the pile of books in front of her. “Well, so much for finding a quiet place to read around here.” Ronnie sighed, slapping her laptop closed a little rougher than necessary. “Listen, I don’t know what existential life crisis your going through, but the books aren’t at fault here, so maybe go easy on throwing them around? Someone of them are elderly.” She dryly joked. “Come here, honey. I’ll help you find the books, no need to get so frazzled.. jeez. What sorta topic are you going for???”

The library was one of the best sources for knowledge of all types of things. The only drawback, the biggest drawback, was that it was so utterly open. So many humans dwelled there and that made things harder. Especially when humans had vandalized the books beforehand (it was frustrating, all of it). Her crisis was a lot more then existential, but Asta didn’t say as much. Instead biting back any comment or refute in favor of clenching fists and silence. “My mistake.” She spoke the words stiffly. The change in the women’s tone made Asta’s demeanor loosen but still, she wasn’t ready to endanger a mortal’s life by getting theirs involved with her. Not again. “While I am thankful for your want to help,” Asta said. “I’m afraid I have to refuse it. Thank you but no thank you, I’d rather not disclose any of my… topic.”

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He’d met Asta once before, but they hadn’t really talked much. All they’d really talked about the complicated issues with one’s siblings, but here she was again, not that Sam recognized her now. She had a different appearance now, and while Sam could feel the power emanating from her, he didn’t have a way to recognize who she was by that. All he saw was someone clearly having a hard time and taking it out on the books. He frowned and picked up the book she’d knocked to the side. He held it close to himself, not putting it near her for fear that she might ruin it. “If you’re being this aggressive with the books, maybe you should take a break from them,” he suggested. 

She had only met him once, but things were far different back then. Back then, Asta had been new to New York. She had been there for sightseeing and loneliness, on the run from her own problems. Things were different now. She knew of Bells, of the losses her siblings endured, and the risks they were faced with. All of them. She wasn’t the same girl who desired to breeze on by when the going got rough. She was different now, and Asta hoped it was for the better. He wasn’t wrong, even if she didn’t like his words. “That would be nice, but...” It was tempting. But, she couldn’t. Not anymore, no putting this off and to the side. It needed to be dealt with. “But I won’t be stopping until I make progress.” She’d sworn to herself as such. Even if just a little, she needed to find something.

Rachel hadn’t held much contact with any of the Hell Princes since the ritual but seeing the women in such a state of frustration was enough to pull her from her current read and make her way over to the other. “Astra?” She questioned, unsure if whom she was seeing was really the demon she’d met a while back. She looked younger yet something about her told her that this was the same woman she’d met all those months ago when she was dating Levi. “You know throwing books tends to defeat the purpose of gaining their knowledge” She mused bending down to pick up one of the tests reading its cover “Are you cursed like Lucifer and Levi were?” She tilted her head curiously before looking over the book-littered table. “Would you like some help?”

It took a moment for Asta to process the familiarity of Rachel, her mind too caught in her own failure. She inhaled deeply reminding herself to calm. Rachel didn’t deserve to bare the brunt of her own frustration. It’d been a long time since she took this appearance, an easier way to distance herself. It wasn’t surprising Rachel recognized her though, being half demon and all.  “... yes.” Asta confirmed, and grimaced. “That’d mean they had knowledge to begin with. Which, unfortunately, these lack.” The question, so direct, wasn’t one Asta had been keen to hear. Of course Rachel would know of the curse, but still. It was hardly her favorite topic, or one she wanted to converse on. Every second of it made her guilt aquake further. But. Rachel was owed the truth, and Asta was tired of running from questions. “Yes.” She responded softly. “I am.” The offer of help wasn’t one expected. Her first instinct were the words That’s generous, but I can’t ask that of you. Except... Asta wasn’t the one who needed the help. No, the ones who needed help, saving, they were the ones who loved her. So instead, she said this. “I’d appreciate that very much, thank you.” 

She jumped a little when she heard someone slam a book down a few tables away. Thorn pulled the ear buds out of her ears and gave a disapproving look. They were in the library. It wasn’t exactly a place to make all this noise.  The woman was lucky Dil wasn’t here today otherwise she likely would’ve been kicked out for a noise violation. “Thesis paper gone wrong or something?” Thorn asked her. The only people who frequented this wing were academics and practicing weirdos trying to learn more about their craft like Thorn herself. “Maybe you ought to take a break,” she suggested. 

Thesis paper. It took Asta a solid moment to remember that, in a lot of people’s lives, that was something important. A life where a thesis paper was her biggest problem... it sounded wonderful. Asta longed for such a life. A life where she wasn’t this person who made all these mistakes, who always ran, someone better. She wanted to be better. “If only.” She responded wistfully, tone softer. A break sounded all too appealing, alluring even. Which was why Asta knew she couldn’t take one. “Thank you, but I can’t afford to get off task.” It was far too vital she remained trying to find all she could. “Perhaps if I actually make any progress, but not until then.” There was no quitting, not this time. 

Loki had always loved reading, he’d often be found in the library reading whatever material he could get his hands on. Being here on Midgard changed none of that, he’d tended to enjoy obscure works that were available to a choice few so when he heard the women all but cursing in the row next to his he couldn’t help but go to investigate if only to tell her to have her meltdown quieter so as not to disrupt others. When she noticed some books on the ground bent down picking them up reading the titles “Mhmm One would assume you are either trying to curse someone who wronged you or someone did something quite cruel to one that holds such beauty.” he questioned returning the books to the table taking in the others surrounding her. “Everything on the left side is completely worthless and unreliable in the realness of the magic you are looking for. You might need to look at much older texts, this one holds some information about ancient curses but it depends on what you are looking for.” He replied offhandedly.

“Flattery will get you nowhere.” Asta responded quietly, and unlike when she typically said such words- she meant them. She was a woman on a mission after all. She was still herself, even with the younger face. It was just easier to put defenses on, to avoid temptation, when she wasn’t fully the same person who screwed up so awfully. It was better then wearing the face she ran with. “Your first guess was correct.” She told him, cautious of the unknown entity the man presented. But, if he could offer help, she wouldn’t reject it. She couldn’t afford to reject any help. Her eyes narrowed at the offered info, intrigued by the knowledge. “You sound like you speak from experience.” She noted. “Do they actually have older texts here?” Or was the library worthless? Just a waste of a trip. Then again, expecting to find something substantial in a public library may have been naive of her.