Obey Me: MC Is Hiding Something

Obey Me: MC is Hiding Something

When MC first awakens in the council room no one thinks much of them. They’re sitting there shivering like a dog left out in the rain and refuses to meet anyone’s eyes.

Lucifer starts to wonder what in devil’s name made you a good candidate for this exchange program. You barely had enough courage to answer when Lord Diavolo welcomed you so graciously, much less look dignified in any way.

Something odd he does observe though is, despite your silence and obvious terror, you seemed to accept the concepts of a Devildom and of RAD and him and his brother very easily or maybe you were just nodding along insipidly.

Mammon’s opinion of you is even lower. He already hated the idea of having to watch and make sure some stupid human didn’t get themselves killed on their first week. Damn it! That wasn’t his job! They can’t even carry a conversation, always just staring and watching everybody.

The human doesnt seem to have any kind of motivations or idea as to what they wanna do. Lucifer will never know if he leaves you alone at school for a while considering you’ve found your friends group with the other exchange students. And at home he sees no problem with letting you go off for just an hour or two. All you really do is walk around and examine the rooms and grounds. Maybe you’re an architecture freak or something.

Leviathan barely pays you any mind when you arrive, not like he ever has the chance to, being that he never leaves his room outside of going to class. But during breakfast he does notice how interested you seemed in the game console he’s playing on. And for a moment he wonders if you’re a gamer or an otaku too

but no, ugh you’re just some normie. You watch Asmo obsess over his compact mirror and Satan over whatever book he’s holding just the same. And you’re conversation is shit like Mammon said. Listless and lacking enthusiasm. But he doesnt stop you when you watch over his shoulder when he plays.

Satan doesn’t have a problem with you. That said, he doesn’t particularly like you. But he can respect how much time you seem to spend in the library, and how many books you borrow about the devildom and kinds of demons. It made sense, you wanted to know the kind of creatures you were surrounded by.

he does wonder though, why one day you seem to be borrowing a lot of Solomon’s books and Solomon’s time as well. But then again, that makes sense too, you were both human after all. Maybe you would stop flinching and get even a little more comortable with someone your race around. When one of his tomes disappear, he interrogates Mammon because of course, it’s Mammon.

Asmo likes your style. It’s not particularly glamorous or eye-catching but it matches your aesthetic. He especially admired your choices in acessories. The amulet you’re always wearing is so pretty and he swears sometimes it almost glows. And your rings were peak Devildom fashion, sharp, edgy iron designs. But he especially adored the silver spike earring you wore.

He was both delighted and smug that he was the first one to get a little closer to you. But of course, how could you resist! You even complimented the perfume he was wearing and asked where he got it. And he directed you to his favorite oils and essences shop that supplied products and ingredients from every realm. And while applying some to your wrist he catches a glimpse of a tattoo peeking out from under your sleeve but you pull your hand away, bashful. Oh, he’ll get you to show him someday. Heehee.

Beel is curious how a human can eat so much. He’s been told human athletes apparently eat a lot to maintain muscle mass and strength and the like but looking at you, you didn’t seem the type to do anything strenuous. Except he does notice that when a demon bumps you in the hall, you’re not hurt or thrown off despite the size difference. And when you’re purposely knocked into by someone else, your reaction is fast, pivoting out of the way and behind the demon and you almost look like...

Nah. You weren’t going to attack him, you began to cower and apologize again and again until Mammon had to drag you way before it got any more embarrassing. The next time you pique his interest is at the gym in the house. You always make sure to go at a time when there isn’t anyone else and he happened to go after you. But it couldn’t have been you that just used that machine. Were you really capable of lifting that much?

Luke and Simeon are sympathetic, Simeon understands the discomfort and the adjustment and answers any questions you have about the brothers and how not to piss them off or placate them if ever you did make them angry. He answers your questions about RAD and the program but does wonder. Wherever did you get an angel relic like the one hanging from your ear?

Luke says you shouldn’t be afraid of those no good demons, if anything happens you can run to Purgatory Hall and they’ll help. He promises. He likes your company and starts up baking with you, teaching dishes and pastries. He tells you a lot about Michael and lets slip things about Lucifer and the brothers back when they were still angels. You don’t push him on the subjects but you do seem pretty interested.

it all came together, very easily. First the lights, Leviathan’s screams echo in the halls as he laments not having saved soon enough. Asmodeus’ whining about losing such good selfie lighting came next and both come out into the hall, yelling for their older brother. “Lucifer!”

If not for that, Lucifer probably wouldn’t have noticed, having been locked up in his firelit office since dinner was over. Heaving a sigh he gets up. All of the yelling told him the lights were out so how could he have expected the brilliant flash of white that burned his eyes when he opened his door. He stumbles, leaning on the door frame for support as footfalls race down the hall.

He growls, feeling his wings and horns materialize but something isn’t right. His vision doesn’t return and his skin starts to burn. In the air he catches the faintest scent of something he hasn’t smelled in a long time. Holy oil.

When the little light in the fridge fades, Beel thinks he may have fucked up. But then it turns out the whole house is out so it must just be some prank. He keeps eating, uncaring whether or not he identifies what it is he’s shoveling into his mouth. Then he smells it.

once upon a time he’d caught Luke with some kind of cookies from the celestial realm. And they were some of the best cookies he’d ever had in his existence. He could never forget that smell, so when it wafts through the air coming from the main hall, he follows. Drool begins to gather beneath his tongue.

He misses the sharp, metallic scent drifting beneath it.

Satan’s vexation spikes when his reading light goes out and his peace and quiet is distrubed by his idiot brothers. Mammon probably tried to turn the power off in Levi’s room to get him out so he can sneak in and steal his stuff again. But then Asmo starts yelling, and one cry from Lucifer rattles his bones.

It’s enough to get him on his feet. But what draws a gasp from him is the flash of lightning that gives him his sight for a moment. White lightning, an impossibility in the devildom’s ever red tinged sky. He goes to the window, knocking a stack of tomes over and unlatches it. But it doesn’t budge. Using the light on his D.D.D. he tries again but it just won’t open.

Outside Satan’s door heavy footsteps, thump along in a slow rhythm. Satan races to the door and Beel is there trudging along the carpet like a zombie, his nose perched in the air.

“Beel?! What the-? What are you doing?”

“Hey what’s the big idea!? Where are you guys!? Who’s doing that weird singing?!”

Mammon calls out into the mansions, just as confused as everyone else. Satan’s brows furrow; he didn’t cause this, then. He’s about to answer but Mammon yelps, and a resounding thwack has Satan grab Beel, and race towards the sound, almost stumbling over each other’s feet in the dark. They’re only guide is the ocassional flash of white and the sound of chanting growing louder as they grow near.

It is still pitch black but years of experience and spatial awareness tells him they’re in the foyer. Satan ventures out, almost tripping over something on the ground; it’s Mammon. He lays at the top of the steps, passed out. Satan is about to shake him awake when Leviathan and Asmo come out of a hall holding up Lucifer between them. Another flash. Lucifer’s demon form flickers in and out, smoke rising from his blistering skin. Satan freezes and Beel picks up Mammon in his arms.

“Satan! What the hell is going on!?” Levi calls out into the dark over the spell.

The chanting stops. So does the lightning and they’re plunged into complete darkness. They hear the sound of plastic and a baggie hits Beelzebub square in the chest, landing on Mammon’s stomach. “Cookies?”

He smells that first but then they recognise the other scent prominent in the air as blood.

Human blood.

“Wait, where’s MC?!” Asmo’s voice comes from the black. “Are they trapped somewhere?”

Someone laughs.

“Oh, you don’t need to worry about that.”

Lightning flashes again, bathing the foyer in glaring white. It’s only for a moment but their eyes are quick enough. It becomes clear where the stench of blood was coming from. “After all, I’m not trapped in here with you...”

Your eyes seem to glow, vacant of whatever fear or trepidation you’ve deceived them with for weeks. In your hand is the earring Asmo admired so much, the silver tip dripping red. At your side, your palm is sliced open, already clotting as you’ve used all you needed for the seal activating the devil’s trap around the entire house. Your sleeves are pushed up to the elbows the sigils and signs inked into your skin tasting air again after so long. As you place your hand on the seal they come alight. Your lips curl over your teeth.

“You’re trapped in here....with me.”

Solomon knows a demon slayer when he sees one. And he tells you right off the bat whatever you’re planning it isn’t a good idea. You’re outnumbered and overpowered by them.

but then he sees otherworldly magic light up the skies and decides maybe it’s a good time to visit the House of Lamentations.

Part 2

Obey Me: Demon Slayer MC (2)

Part One

——————

You’ve been removed from the House of Lamentations...for a week. None of the brothers could argue, really.

Beelzebub feels kinda bad. If you were already cautious of them before you must have been terrified now. Being around angels and a fellow human would do some good but Beel has to resist coming over. The cookies you left are divine after all, so sweet and rich with the Celestial Realm ingredients. But when you return he should ask you why they seem to leave such a bitter taste in his mouth, maybe you fouled up with a measurement or two? Still, he eats them, getting crumbs all over the bandages that wrap around his thigh and right arm.

Satan will let Mammon off just this once. His missing tome was returned by you just a few hours ago, thwarting Mammon’s scheme and while he’s glad it’s back, it irritates him. The very sight of it makes him want to tear it apart and burn it. The soreness from last night’s scuffle doesn’t help his vexation any. Neither does the random drop of blood staining a couple of pages. Human blood, he notes but he feels no guilt. It’s not like he was the one that accidentally hit you last night. Besides, it’ll teach you to get involved in disputes between them. Though he will admit, going into his demon form over it may have been an exaggeration.

Asmodeus frowns at the silver spike earring he receives in the mail. It looks a lot like yours, which was why he ordered it. Except it’s a little less intricate and it didn’t quite shine the way yours does. But that‘s beside the point. Really? He just didn’t like it anymore. He didn’t like looking at it, trying it and though it likely still looks good, he didn’t like it on you, especially. Oh he always knew it looked dangerous but that was part of the charm! Now though, after recalling you accidentally cut yourself, the charm might’ve been a little dead.

Leviathan curses when he sees he didn’t save at an important point in Ruri-chan Adventures: High School Days. Impossible! He always saves so he can go back to all the cute, awesome things Ruri-chan said! And yet, there’s a gap between crucial scenes anyway. Ugh, it was all because of that stupid argument last night. He never would’ve thought they’d get him so riled up, he’d actually transform and join the fight over it, over...whatever it had been. And now the cuts on his arms sting when they come in contact with his jacket sleeves, ichor staining the inside lining. Just, ugh, this is the pits.

Mammon is still nursing a headache. He can’t remember whatever it is they got mad at him for last night, but did they really have to hit him so hard he passed out!? A little excessive, geez. At least today they’re nice to him...almost too nice. Ah shit, was he being blamed for last night? Is that why he’s been replaced as your watchdog? Were they buttering him up so they were going to punish him?! Nah! It couldn’t be, Lucifer would’ve done it already and Lucifer hasn’t left his room since yesterday.

Sitting in his bed with his pink tinged skin slathered in some remedy Barbatos whipped up, Lucifer can’t help but feel ridiculous. What was Diavolo thinking? Playing around with Holy Oil like that? Yes it had no effect on demons but Lucifer and his brothers weren’t always demons. It couldn’t be used to trap them like it used to but it could still incapacitate them. It had been so painful, he could hardly remember what happened afterwards but apparently his brothers got into a fight over something trivial and you got caught in the middle. He’d have to apologize to you later.

Regardless when he’d woken up, Diavolo was telling him (forcing him) to take the day off. He’d apologized only once but profusely, his ever-jovial smile faltering. Lucifer insisted he forgives him, it was an accident after all. Diavolo goes right back to smiling after that and tells him his duty of watching over you has been handed over to someone else for the week. Just until you’ve calmed down.

Luke is so miffed about what happened! He knew those demons would lose control and try to hurt you! Luke is ecstatic to have you in Purgatory Hall, of course. You recreated his cookies perfectly the other day and your knack for picking up recipes is amazing. Well, most recipes, your devildom dishes always end up...catastrophic. Maybe it was because of your basically being abducted here that made you so uncomfortable with anything devildom related. Still, he loves your company.

Simeon is, of course, delighted to have you. Even as low spirited as you seemed when you came in this morning. You presence has always given him a sense of tranquility and familiarity, as though you’re an old friend. And so he treats you as such, even if you seemed down at first, he catches you smiling every once in a while to yourself, twirling your angel relic earring as if remembering something fond by it. He just wishes you’d warm up to Solomon too.

Given the chance, you’d warm up. So warm, in fact, you could set him on fucking fire and collect the ashes so you could burn that too.

“f you keep being so quiet, I’m going to start getting suspicious”

You scowl at the bathroom door. Your newly appointed warden is waiting outside in your temporary room for you to be done. “Oh I’m sorry, did you want me to narrate everything I’m doing or are you just being a prick?”

“MC-“

“Second one, got it.”

You step out from beneath the shower, turning the valve in quick, jerky movements. They squeak as the water stops and it seems to satisfy Solomon for now. As you dry yourself off, out of the corner of your eye, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror above the sink. You scowl at the chains of light wrapping around your chest and arms that shine the same pale gold as Solomon’s ring of power. If you could see the back of your head, you’re sure the bruised lump on it would bare his mark too. Or that of his baseball bat.

Why does he even have that?

“Mc?”

You secure the towel around yourself. “Alright I’m coming out.”

You’ve effectively piqued Solomon’s interest. When he was told another human would be attending RAD, he hadn’t expected much. But here you are, standing before him as the could’ve-been slayer of the Avatars of the Seven Sins. But realistically speaking you probably could’ve only taken three of them on with what you tried. But three would be enough, after all; you incapacitated the two most powerful demons of the House, cut up the third, held off the most aggressive and injured the strongest. Other than the cut you did yourself on your palm and his own hit to the back of your head, there isn’t a scratch on you.

A demon slayer. He had so many questions that he couldn’t ask you last night in front of Diavolo and Barbatos who definitely knew something but refused to speak on it. How did you discover your powers? Did you know it couldn’t just be human magic? Who taught you?

He settles on one, “What exactly was your plan?” his back to you, as you changed into sleepwear. The rustle of fabric stops for a second. He elaborates, even if you had fought the other brothers off or maybe escaped while your modified devil’s trap kept them locked in the House. Where would you go? What would you do? How would you go home, if that was your goal at all? You answer him with a question of your own. “Why’d you stop at incapacitating me, why save them?”

Quid pro quo. There’s a door in the human world, in Wyoming, USA, that opened to hell and reading Satan’s book you found out it opened to this circle of hell. No one had opened that door since 2007 but you knew how. All it would take from this side was one sacrifice. You look Solomon dead in the eye as you say it and he laughs.

His laugh is as infuriating as his answer. “The semester’s just begun MC, would be a shame to end it so early with a sudden war, eh?” Besides, he tells you, things get a lot more interesting for him this way.

You nearly throttle him right then and there. Instead, you settle for sleeping last night off, the soft glow and hum of Solomon’s magic lulling you to sleep and locking you in your room. War he’d said and you decided, plans can wait till you’ve had some rest.

Barbatos would be lying if he said the current conversation didn’t interest him almost as much as serving tonight’s tea did but not quite. But who could blame him? It is an excellent blend and Solomon is an excellent guest. He would have been more comfortable serving at the palace but the House of Lamentations was suitable enough to host. Besides, he shares Lord Diavolo’s wish to stay close to Lucifer while he heals.

“Still feeling a bit drained?” Diavolo asks as Barbatos sets a down a plate of holyberry muffins on the coffee table of Lucifer’s office.

Solomon smiles, expressing his thanks before picking up his cup. “Just a bit. But not to worry,” he says savoring the tea’s rich minty aftertaste. It banishes the chill from his bones in a way even Lucifer’s roaring fireplace can’t. “I had enough strength left in me to bind MC to their room at Purgatory.”

“Impressive. Especially after having to cast a memory spell so powerful just a few hour prior.” Diavolo compliments but he says it as if he’s making an observation about the weather. Not that he has to compliment Solomon at all, but from what he has gleaned in his short time in the exchange program, Diavolo is not one to be so lukewarm.

“So, what’s the big secret? If you’ll allow me to be so bold Lord Diavolo,” Solomon says, smiling still. He puts down his cup, turning to face the demon-prince head on. “I don’t very much like being in the dark with matters I become involved in.”

Diavolo sighs. No pleasantries will delay the conversation any further, it seems. “A Nephilim” he says, finishing his fist cup. Barbatos is there in an instant to refill it but all Diavolo can spare is a nod in thanks. “That’s what MC is. I know that’s your biggest question. As for your next one, yes I knew when I chose for the program.”

“Well that certainly explains some things,” Solomon grabs his chin, thinking back to the flashes of light, Celestial light in the devildom’s sky. Then there was cutting off the power, something that couldnt be achieved by just shutting down a generator, not when all generators ran on magic and could only be disrupted by magic. But that wasn’t all, you had undone every room enchantment, broken every curse on the doors labelled off limits for you. Finally, there was the main doors of the House of Lamentations. The seal was no mere devil’s trap, the likes of which wouldn’t have worked on six demons who had once been fallen angels. It was a powerful spell, one that should have drained any human of their strength to not only cast but also maintain.

But then there was the seal itself and the tattoos covering most of your skin.

“They can’t be the only one.”

Solomon’s musings are cut short. Diavolo has finished half of Barbatos’ brew but keeps drinking. “The seal and the marks? It’s been hundreds of years but I would recognize those anywhere. Someone had to have taught MC such careful and studied magic. And that someone is from order of hunters and demon slayers who protect the human world.”

“The Left Hand of God,” Solomon frowns. “I thought that was a myth. A lie to cover up Gabriel’s fall?” Such information being unknown to him twists his insides.

“The lie, is that Gabriel fell at all.” Diavolo finally sets down the cup rubbing one of his temples. “Towards the end of my father’s reign, he let some demons run rampant. Gabriel was sent to earth in human form, to send them back here. But it didn’t end with him, his children and their children formed the Left Hand of God. Part of the reason why my father’s still in slumber is he’s recovering from a great war he once had with them. It was declared a draw, when the Celestials interfered, siding with the humans. The treaties were drawn, and they’ve been protecting the human world for centuries since then.”

“And you brought one here.”

“I didn’t know that I did.”

Solomon raises a brow. “You knew about MC’s blood but not about the affiliation to the Left Hand? How does that elude you of all demons?”

Diavolo’s hand on his armrest clenches and for a moment, Solomon fears he’s overstepped but Diavolo takes one breath and his body relaxes.

“Solomon, what I’m about to tell you? No one can know, not yet.”

Outside the office, Belphegor’s knuckles drain white as he grips his pillow. Diavolo has brought a demon slayer to their House. One that threatened and hurt his brothers. The damned Prince didn’t listen, no one listened when he swore humans were nothing but vermin. He doesn’t stay for the rest of whatever they talk about, turning to stalk off down the hall to the foyer.

If Diavolo won’t deal with this. Then he will.

To Be Continued...

———————————————

@vicardi-the-fool @poppy-pom @aspenflower17 @game-lover-yess @sibit360 @siana-loves-you

Comment if you wanna be tagged for the next ones, I think this might become a whole ass series.

P.S I’m sorry this took so long I had no idea that part one was gonna get so much positive feedback. At some point I said “okay when itgets to 666 notes, I’ll get part 2 upbu then it was there within an hour of me saying so. And I kinda panicked cause what if this one is t as good or disnt get as much interest. So thank you all very much!

Oathkeeper

01: Omens

Diluc x Doctor!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of blood. Slight gore. Cursing

Rating: T

Word Count: 3.9k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Diluc

No matter the season, the air at Dawn Winery will always carry a sweetness to it. Even now as fall has fully set in and some of the grapevines threaten to go bare early, Diluc can taste it on his tongue. It’s his first welcome as he walks the path back up to the manor.

“Hello Master Diluc,” Hartman, a newer farmer under Diluc’s employ, waves at him as he passes, carrying a shovel in his other hand. Diluc nods in return, doing the same for the other workers who greet him. Some of them also carry shovels and others are lugging sacks of soil over their shoulders. Standing near the entrance, directing them, is Tunner whose stooped shoulders straighten just a little every time he greets someone. Just like they always have since Diluc was a boy.

“Ah, welcome home Master Diluc. Did you enjoy your work at the tavern today?” Tunner says, the lines around his eyes and mouth deep and happy.

“Well enough,” Diluc smiles back a little. “It was a rather slow day, save for a few Adventurers looking for their lunch.” No Knights of Favonius, he recalls. Jean must have started cracking down on the ones who drink during the day as if they haven’t any work or assignments. Once or twice when Diluc went outside for some air he glimpsed knights on their proper patrol routes and stations. Noticeably, none of the Angel’s Share regulars came anywhere near the tavern until the end of day once he had left. As it should be.

“I see you have everyone started on mounding the vines.” Diluc looks to the farmers working around the winery. “Good, never hurts to start early.”

Tunner nods. “Correct, Young Master. Especially when it comes to preparing for winter.” He does his own once over of the area, his eyes deceptively keen for his age. Though that may be because he’s been watching and caring for these lands since before Diluc was born. “Although, you can see it all around. The coming winter will be kinder to us than most.”

“Oh?” Diluc fights with a smile, knowing the last time Tunner started talking about folktales and farmers’ omens, nobody went to bed until late into the night. “How so?”

Tunner laughs. “You may not believe in the signs Young Master, but they haven’t steered me wrong in all my years,” he assures. Keen eyes for his age indeed, Diluc muses. Tunner pulls a pouch from his belt, wrinkled fingers still deft and precise as he unties it. “You can see it on the boars, not so fat as they were last year. The onions Elzer ordered from Springvale are of thinner skin as well and finally-“ the words stall in his throat, halted by a wet, hacking cough. He drops the pouch to cover his mouth. Diluc barely catches it by the strings.

“Tunner? Are you alright?” Diluc touches his shoulder, trying to guide him to a nearby create. “Please, sit and rest,” he says and Tunner follows, pointing to the pouch as he works through his fit. Diluc nudges it open with his fingers.

“Sweet flowers?”

Tunner nods, clearing his throat twice. “Yes. Still in bloom this late into the fall. A good omen.”

“Very good if it means Jilliana will have enough to make your medicine.” Diluc points out. Tunner tries to hide it, to power through but he’s not very good at it. His age doesn’t help. “Please, Tunner. You shouldn’t be pushing yourself so much. Especially if your sickness won’t go away.”

Tunner only smiles and Diluc tries his best not to flinch at the spot of red on his teeth. “I’m alright Young Master,” he croaks. “The sisters say I just need to keep myself healthy and drink the medicine they make for me.”

“And your son?” Diluc asks, recalling seeing Guy just this afternoon by the eastern gate. “You still haven’t told him? He’s your only child, he should be taking care of his father.”

“He’s a Knight now, he has duties to fulfill. I don’t want him worrying about an old man like me.” He tries to laugh but coughs again.

Diluc frowns. “He has a duty to you,” he says, remembering when Guy used to help his father around the winery and insist on doing all the heavy work. “What work could the knights have for him more important than that?”

“It’s alright Master Diluc,” Tunner insists, taking the sweet flowers from him. “I know how much you… dislike them. But for what shortcomings they possess, the Knight of Favonius serve Monstadt well. In fact, it just so happens they’ve recruited. Guy tells me that someone is coming Monstadt to be their head doctor.”

Diluc grits his teeth. “Have they now?”

No information, from idle gossip among the sisters to the sordid affairs of the knights, escape Diluc’s eyes and ears. That said, Jean must have demanded that the matter be sealed tighter than the Favonius treasury. He’s heard tell of the recruitment of a “travelling doctor” for ages now but all Diluc’s gotten are bits and pieces. Supposedly, the new head doctor will arrive at Monstadt this month and still, all he knows is a name and a vision.

“Well I certainly hope whoever it is, they’ll be of some use,” Diluc says and it would be more than he could say for a lot of those knights. “Still Tunner, while we wait for this doctor, please pace yourself. There are plenty of younger farmers around here you can task.” He pleads and smiles when Tunner heaves a defeated sigh.

“I’ll give this to Hillie to give to Jilliana,” Diluc says, snatching the sweet flowers before Tunner can ask or protest. “Just do me a favor and call it a day. The worst winter we could possibly have is one where you aren’t well enough to be with us.”

Tunner laughs, a real one and nods. “Alright, Master Diluc. Thank you.”

Diluc nods back, heading towards the manor where Adelinde is waiting at the door. He turns, making sure Tunner is still seated on his crate while the others work around him. But as he scans the rest of the area, his expression hardens spotting telltale white and gold armor in the distance. A party of four Favonius Knights stride along the dirt path, giving Dawn Winery a wide berth as they have no doubt been instructed to do. Diluc knows for a fact that no knights patrol this close to the winery. So, the only reason they’d be passing by directly is if they were heading to the Stone Gate, the border between Monstadt and Liyue. Another endeavor Diluc knows little of. It isn’t difficult to put the pieces together from there.

“Well I’ll be damned,” he mutters to himself. “Maybe there is something to Tunner’s omens.”

Hillie tilts her head a little as he approaches. “I’m sorry? Did you say something Master Diluc?”

“Nothing. Just musing to myself.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When night falls, so does the rain with it. Staring out from the window of his quarters Diluc wonders if he should have asked Tunner about omens for sudden storms as well. High winds aren’t uncommon in Monstadt, especially not in the latter half of the year. But accompanied by a heavy enough rain fall and the two make for conditions less than ideal to be out in.

For Diluc, they’ll be a minor inconvenience.

“Rain...” he mutters as he sorts through his wardrobe for a thicker coat. Regardless of how heavy the fall, Diluc has his mission, but he’ll never forget the dangers that come with a downpour like this. Faces and shapes are harder to discern in the rain, the paths are more treacherous and slippery. Mud can slow you down no matter how careful your steps, no matter how much you hurry. Rain washes away tracks all too easily. And Diluc will never forget how quickly and cleanly it also washes away blood.

Like it never happened.

He draws in a breath, willing darker memories away from the forefront of his mind as he slips his arms through an old hunting jacket. “If only it could cl-“

A bang jolts him. Thunder? But there wasn’t a flash. More follow, booming thumps in quick succession. His quarters are at the far end of the Ragvindr manor, on the second floor. But whoever’s knocking, pounding, on the front doors are desperate enough to slam up against the solid oak over and over to get the attention of whoever’s inside. The clang of the hinges beginning to give rush Diluc into action. It’s no surprise it also rouses others in the manor.

One of the maids, still dressed in her night clothes and a robe, is throwing the door open before he’s even out. “Hello?! Who is that making a ruckus at such an hou-oh! Oh archons’ grace!”

The view of the entrance is obscured by the balcony and Diluc can’t see who’s standing in the doorway, but he recognizes the voice in an instant.

“Help! People hurt! Need healing!”

Diluc’s feet pound on the hardwood, darting around the corners of the balcony and almost jumping over the railing. “Razor?”

Razor finds him in the dark. Their only light is the candle in the maid’s hand and the dim glow of the Vision at Diluc’s belt. But everything is clear enough. “Diluc!” Razor pants, his chest heaving, his clothes and hair dripping wet. Razor grunts as he struggles to hold up the shivering, blood and rain-soaked man wrapped in his coat. “He is cold! Won’t make it to the city!”

Diluc rushes down the steps. “Get a fire going!” he commands, rushing to take the injured man. Razor follows, his legs shaky and he’s struggling to catch his breath but he stays on his feet peering out into the rain through the doorway. Diluc glances at him as he sets the knight down by the fireplace. “Hillie, the fire. Did you run all the way here?”

“Yes.” Razor pants. “From the water.”

The injured knight trembles and whimpers. Hillie’s hands shake almost as badly as she tries and fails to spark the iron and flint. “Step back Hillie.” It’s her only warning before a ball of red-hot flame ignites in Diluc’s palm and he lobs it into the fireplace. “What happened? Were they attacked?”

“Hillichurls.” Razor nods, kneeling beside Diluc and the Knight. “Lots of them with big ones and Abyss Mages on the road. I could smell it from Wolvendom. Blood.”

Diluc scowls. Of course, there were Abyss Mages. Of course, knights like the ones he saw traversing the road earlier that afternoon were no match for them. Diluc glances at the young man on his floor. “You were smart, bringing him here but I don’t know how much we can do for him.” Grabbing Razor’s coat, Diluc prepares himself to shield him from Hillie’s wide, terrified gaze but is left just as dumbfounded as her. The bandages around his chest are damp but they’re not getting any bloodier. Diluc leans in a little and the man’s breathing is clear and equal. While his lips are still pale, being near the fire has stopped his shivering. “He’s-“

“Okay. For now.” Razor says, wiping away some of the blood from the young knight’s face. All that red had made it look worse than it actually was. “Razor was told to find a place that is safe, warm.”

“By the other Knights?”

Razor shakes his head. “Not not knight. They are with the Knights. They are coming here. A healer.”

“Healer.” Diluc’s brows furrow. “The Doctor?”

“Yes! Doc-tor! They are coming here. Bringing more wounded.”

More. Diluc can see by the crest on his belt that the young knight at his feet is newer and of a lower rank, sent because no one ever expected they’d encounter anything on the road. He thinks back and remembers all four were the same. How many of them got hurt tonight because they were so unprepared?

“M-master Diluc!”

They turn to Hillie who’s lips quiver, pointing at three figures running through the rain up the path. Two of them carrying something between them. Someone, wrapped in a blue cloak. Once again, Diluc hears the voice before he sees who speaks.

“Make room! A bench, a cot, anything!”

Diluc turns. “Clear the table!” He says, grabbing papers and books and setting them on the floor. Hillie does the same for the inkwells and quills. “Here!” he calls, turning right as you rush in, trailing blood and rainwater across his carpet. You walk right past him hauling a heavy trunk and setting it down on one of the chairs.

“There’s not much time. This one’s barely holding on,” you say, unlatching the trunk and Diluc gets a glimpse of steel and glass before Hillie’s scream tears his eyes away. Diluc’s stomach churns. The two Knights had used every ounce of their strength and will to not jostle their wounded comrade on the bamboo stretcher, but they moved him enough for the blue cloak covering him to fall away and reveal the gashes in his chest and the icicle shards embedded in his stomach. Water and blood run from them onto the table, pooling under the Knight. You pay none of them any mind, pulling tools from your trunk and placing them on a tray you set on the table.

“Oh my gods, oh my gods!” Hillie gasps, dropping one of the inkwells in her arms. “That’s so much- s-so much blood! Is he going to be alright?!”

You don’t even glance at her. “He will be.”

“But the blood! He’s dying!”

“Not while he’s on my operating table,” You say, finally tearing your gaze away, but your hands are still busy pulling vials and tubes from your trunk. “Look at me. I understand if you’re disturbed but you need to be calm. If you’re going to help, I need you to be calm. Otherwise, I’m going to need you to leave.”

Hillie stares, shaking in her robe. “I-“

“Now.” You focus back onto the injured knight, uncorking a vial of clear liquid and pouring it out onto your hand. Instead of spilling through your fingers it condenses, forming into shapeless haze hovering above your palm. At your belt, a Hydro Vision comes alight, dimming to a soft glow as you let the little cloud darkens, taking all the dirt and blood off your hands. “I won’t ask again, miss.”

“Hillie, go wake Adelinde please,” Diluc speaks up, putting his hand on her shoulder. She jolts but nods in understanding when she meets his eyes. Her first steps towards the door are shaky but she manages to hurry to the maid’s quarters, calling out for Adelinde.

“You two.” You look to the last Knights as you pull your palm away from the mist, letting it hang in mid-air. They don’t look hurt, save for a few bruises and a nasty cut on the brow of one but otherwise they’re unharmed. “Whichever one of you still has the energy. Get to Monstadt, tell them about what happened and have them prepare beds.”

One of them, a lanky, young blonde man steps forward. He’s missing both his pauldrons and one of his bracers but his eyes are resolute. “I can go.”

“Good. Go. Take the safest path you can,” You give him a stern look. “The safest, you hear me? No one else is getting hurt tonight.”

The knight nods, saluting to you. He casts worried glances at his friends on the table and by the fireplace before rushing out the door. Razor, jumps to his feet, the urgency reigniting him. “You need Razor? What can I do?”

“You’ve done so much already,” you say to him, looking past him to the knight by the fireplace whose face is beginning to color again. Then you look to the last Knight, who’s collapsed onto the floor on his backside. “But all three of you should get out of those wet clothes and warmed up fast.”

“I can do that.”

You turn and a woman with blonde hair and blue eyes is already coming around your operating table to the Knight by the fireplace. “Will one of the guest rooms upstairs suffice Master Diluc?”

“Yes. Give them some of my spare clothes if you must.” Diluc begins to make his way over to the fireplace, but you stop him.

“My apologies Master Ragnvindr,” You say, grabbing a pair of shears and cutting through the knight’s undershirt. You peel the shreds away and Diluc is glad now that Hillie didn’t see the worst of it. Diluc recognizes wounds that could scar deeply. The knight shivers and the shards shift, they rise and fall as he breathes. Despite the grisly sight, your voice is even. “If I could please have you stay and get your assistance here?”

He approaches the table. “What do you need from me, Doctor?”

“Your vision.” You nod to the glow at his hip. You pick the vapor out of the air again, this time sweeping it over your patient’s body. Blood and dirt dye it dark red, cleaning the knight enough for Diluc to see how closely one of the icicles is buried in his ribs, mere inches away from his heart. “He fell into the lake before he got blasted by a cryo mage.”

Diluc nods, “He’ll die of the cold before you could get all of those out of him.” He peels his glove off, rubbing his hands together. His palms and fingers flush with heat.

“As close as you can get to the torso, please. Just keep them away from the shards,” you say as you gather the blood mist with a wave and let it fall, draining red into a tray. Diluc hovers his hands above the knight’s shoulders, allowing the heat to seep into the man’s pale skin. His shivering lessens but the icicles in his body begin to sweat. You gesture at him. “Turn it down a little please, the last thing we need is to melt water into his body.”

Diluc follows.

“Good.”

You pull one of the icicles right out of the knight’s stomach. Diluc gasps a little, not as much as the knight and not as loud as when you pull out another. After that it’s as if Diluc isn’t even there. He is reduced to being a heat lamp as you move his hands to where you need them and the contrast of the coolness of your skin on his heated palms make steam curl up into the air. Your hands are a flurry of movement, raining red into the tray and cleaning the wounds you pull more shards from. It makes Diluc’s stomach curl a little, seeing bits of flesh rip away with one of the icicles. You curse and out of the moist air, condense moe mist that glows a faint blue. You hover it above the wound and let it rain and the skin heals, but you pull it away before the wound closes. You murmur to yourself. “Come on, Garret. Work with me here.”

Garret. Diluc had just been calling him “the knight”.

You are more cautious then. Moving Diluc’s hands close to warm up the skin around the shards before pulling, then drawing the water out of his wounds into more dark, bloody mist drifting around his foyer.

Diluc’s arms have long gone numb before you finally tell him he can stop with a curt nod and a thank you. Diluc takes the dismissal. He may have a stronger stomach than most but even he can’t watch as you cut the knight open to look at the damage to his insides. He sits back in one of the chairs, turned away from the table, trying to massage the feeling back into his shoulders. You ignore him. At some point Razor comes back downstairs, dressed in some of Diluc’s old clothes and asks if he can help. Diluc tells him he can go back up. Razor refuses and sits by the fireplace.

Diluc almost nods off at some point. Razor goes under completely, curling up on the carpet but Diluc fights it off long enough to hear you let out a deep, relieved sigh. Diluc forces his eyes up and looks back as you are cutting the last suture. You pull your hands away from the knight’s, from Garret’s, body and look around. You find Diluc still sitting there and you startle. Your eyes dart back and forth between him and then Razor, asleep by the fireplace. “...your coat. Please.”

It takes him a moment but Diluc comes to his senses and sheds the old hunting jacket, handing it over. Before you cover Garret up Diluc catches a glimpse of a miracle. The knight’s torso was clean, the deep wounds already scarred over or gone, save for the incision going up his left side held together by big, ugly but clean stitches. Even covered, the steady rise and fall of Garret’s chest is obvious. His breathing is a little shallow but clear and equal. You put your hand on his forehead, murmuring something too low for Diluc to catch. Then you pull away.

“Fuck.”

You collapse onto the carpet, leaning back against one of the table’s legs.

Diluc pushes one of the chairs nearer. “Please. Sit.”

You shake your head with a laugh. “Can’t really get up right now. Thank you, though.” You tip your head back, eyes sliding shut as you let the light of dawn flooding in from the window soak into your haggard skin. Diluc turns, staring back at the rising sun, realizing that the rain, and with it the night, had passed in a blink. It must have been forever for you and never once had you shown any sign of tiring all throughout. But now you are just as out of breath as he would be after a long, hard-fought battle. You glance over to the fireplace in the foyer, taking in Razor curled up nearby to stay warm. “I have a lot to thank you and him for,” you chuckle but it’s more of a huff.

“He led you here.”

“Yeah and I thought he was fucking crazy. I thought,” you laugh a little, “I thought I was going to have to fight some rich asshole for a space in his basement again.” Diluc can’t help his curious stare. Watching you give orders and work for hours straight then hearing you laugh and jest is jarring. You smile, beaming at him like the dawn. “Thank you Master Ragnvindr, for helping me save their lives.”

Diluc blinks. He opens his mouth to speak.

“Doctor!”

Razor peeks out from behind a couch, leaping over to get to you. “You are done? Knight is safe?”

“Yeah kid, he’s going to be just fine, thanks to you.” You reach over and pat Razor on the head, smiling just as brightly.

Razor grins. “And you? You are okay? Everyone is okay?”

“All good.”

“Everyone is okay!” Razor nods, smiling at you then at Diluc. “I am glad!”

“So am I,” you laugh, reaching down to a skein around your waist. “No one’s dying any time soon.”

There’s a sureness in your voice that has the back of Diluc’s mind tingling and his chest aching.

“Not while I’ve got them.”

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AN: If you enjoyed please leave comments! Reblog! What do u think of The Doctor??? 🧐 is the word count too much?

I’m on a HUNK kick. If anyone has any more content I must be notified immediately.

Pretty sure I’m the only Hunk writer active anymore so here’s a Masterpost of all my fics on AO3 :3

I’ve given Hunk his own backstory and written a handful of one shots both ship and non ship.

Everything has a read order but most can be read as stand-alone (oneshots etc)

Hope y’all like em!

Hunk’s Identity and Future

12. Who Are You?

13. Waiting for you (Hunk/Vector)

14. Meet The Family

0/15. Behind the mask (Backstory)

One Shots (Hunk/Vector)

2. In the Pale Moonlight

3. Broken bones and Dog teeth

11. Stranded

Soul Bounded Scars (DaemonAU)

NSFW One Shots (Hunk/Vector)

4. Close your Eyes

7. Clean up B-50

NSFW One Shots (Warning: Dead dove, read tags carefully)

5. Good dog bad wolf

6. Animal Impulses

One Shots (Hunk/Nikolai)

8. Marked for Death

9. Due Debts (NSFW)

10. The Price of Death (NSFW)

One Shots (No Ship)

1. Psychological Evaluation- Hunk

Your better half (OSDD AU)

I’ll update this post as I write more c:

Really, your writting is marvelous.

Wow. This is the first time I’ve ever gotten one of these like EVER 🥺

Thank you so much. And thanks to everyone who randomly finds my stuff and reblogs even considering how inconsistent I am with uploading.

ATTENTION

To all fanfiction writers/readers. When you read fanfiction do you prefer if its written like a book with expostion and description or do you prefer it’s written with the assumption that you know the source media its written from and the appearance of characters and locations? Like say you read a Demon Slayer fic would you want to skip all the “a boy with a scar above his left eye” stuff and go straight to, yo that’s Tanjiro, or nah?