Painting edit above by - le me. These religious/historic edits are meant for only comedic purposes. I hope I won't trigger anyone, thank you for understanding.
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"Please, we went over this (Y/n)."

For the first time in hundreds of timelines, you heard sorrow and desperation in his apathetic voice.

The searing pain encases over you once your whole body has been knocked out to a wall by an invisible force. Your soul was infected by that damned navy-blue color, forbidding you to move on your own will. But your opponent knew how to hold you still - he was the only person to witness you turn into the corrupted murderer that you are today.

You danced this dance with him over, and over, and over again; memorizing every move, every attack, every blaster that perished you. But you'd naively reset, with no responsibility and nothing to lose anymore, you'd come back to this empty hallway of a church - meeting him. With each RESET, you came back stronger. Your lust for blood has drawn you in endless circles, the very enduring existence of this world trembling within your dusty fingers.

"dirty brother killer." - he'd call you, his voice oozing with loathing all the while penetrating you with piercing bones, his fingers controlling the chains of your soul. But no matter how strong he was, or how enigmatic he thought he was: you both knew that eventually, you'd reach him, your sharp knife slicing through his white shirt.

And so you did. Sending a single blow with your knife - the world would flash before his own eyes. With wide eye-sockets, cyan-blue flames dying out he'd send you a last look of betrayal. He'd tremble for a few seconds, breathing heavily, alas allowing himself to fall into your arms with a melancholic smile.

Diligent fights like these were nothing to you.

"You megalomaniac."

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"That'll be all, just remember, if there's anything that you require or feel like your health is decreasing - please signal the nearby guardsman for an emergency, alright?"

"Yes, I understand. Thank you, doctor."

You laid in your bed, tucked under the duvet like a trembling child. Swaddling away the chilingness in your own comfortable shield of warmth, you toppled into the blankets, relieved to rest your weary feet. Each morning, the same Hathy doctor was assigned to check up on your healing process.

The chattering within Card Castle became louder and louder. The hearing calls of a Grand Lighter rising back up from a deleterious fight has dwelled in every ear, swaying everyone with jarring gossips. Some defied that you were resurrected from a near-death state, while others bequeath to the saying of you fighting an unknown entity of pure disarray and chaos - just to protect your beloved teammates.

"She's alive, o hail the merciful knight!" - they would say "Please may her awakening bring peace to our authoritarian King."

You were the hot talk in this nation, though you were oblivious of it, because most of the time - you stayed within your spacious bedroom, locked away from any pedestrians or yet alone outside help. After all, the entire army of royal guards now protected the floor in which you dwelled in.

You sighed, caring less to count how much guards stood beside your bedroom door outside. Feeling yourself lean back on your pillows, you gazed at your patched injuries. But something else seized your guard:

"...It's alright, Jevil. You may come out now."

From within the shadows, in the corner of your room, Jevil used the dark as his disguise from perceptibility, claiming it as his second nature. He was unseen to the naked eye, always hiding, watching with pierced eyes and a grinning smile. But not this time. His mouth formed a line, no sharp teeth graced his non-existent grin. Instead, he slowly levitated towards you, eyeing your arms.

"Mmmh..."

"What is it?"

"Your bruises..." - he eyed your (skin-color) hands, your entire body stitched and warped to protect your cuts. He hummed, guilt suffocating him to the fullest "Are strong from my attacks?"

You saw him tenderly touch your arm, examining your patches with a frown. "They're healing. It doesn't matter now."

Peaking through, he caught glimpses on your (skin-color) arm that hid great purple welts that will only deepen over the coming week. Jevil knew that against your soft skin they would be grotesque, but he appreciated the doctors for their masterful work on patching you up - "I did that... it ain't fair and swell. But the doctors surely know their handiwork well."

You silently stared at Jevil. He would hide in your room, residing from any guards catching a glimpse of him with you, yet with silence and prying walls of your bedroom - he would stay within your protection no matter what. No matter how much he masked his remorseful and guilty eyes, regret still found its way to gnaw at the core of his chest. He levitated beside, hesitant to even step closer to you, knowing how much you valued your personal territory. However, you couldn't deny his expression as he flew awkwardly beside you.

"...so um," - you cleared your throat, reverently rubbing your fingers along the silken mattress. "you know you can sit rather than just...hover."

For the first time this day, his iconic toothy grin found its way back on his face. With his cape fluttering softly behind - he sat beside on top of the blankets, legs crossed, a warm hue of lilac flourished on his cheeks.

"You know, you know - I'm rather glad you're enduring within here. You may finally take a remission to relax and heal up! Besides, What a luxury, what a frill - to have a resigned protection by that spade-face himself."

"Yeah yeah, that doesn't mean I'm enjoying my stay. Sooner or later I'll have to plan an escape you know."

"Hmm, that is right. But remember this, (y/n), with your sore limbs and low health - how may you escape the massive hoards of patrolling guards in this castle?"

You listened to him, seeing how his purple tail waved around swiftly. He had a point.

"You found yourself in a tight, tight point. Think rationally, can you - at the current moment there is very little to do, and If you stir the pot you might get into troubles."

"Hate to admit it, but you're right." - you sighed, "Sneaking out from the guards seems impossible, fighting anyone now will be a death wish and going against someone, will make me a total enemy here..."

"You see, now we're talking, dear!" - he beamed at you, "though look at me, I'm as baffled as you! The castle changed drastically since I was in my so-called prison! It became dubiously tasteless."

you listened to Jevil's excessively talkative behavior', an amused smile peaking at the corner of your lips - "Surprised that out of all people you're the one who's telling me to "think rationally" and giving me the details."

"Oh, ease will ya. Our deal was that you'd free me and I'll join you in embarking on a rightful quest of finding an escape and truth. Now here, here I am!"

you smiled, chuckling light - "...You chaotic little clown."

"Aw." - Jevil tilted his head to the side, satisfied to have you start talking to him once more. He wished to do something for you, something pleasing and caring, as a way to rectify his mistake. But he feared to see your burning glare of fire that you wore the day you fought... you, very much like him, hid your own regret and pain. Though, something else itches at the back of Jevil's skull, a horrendous itch of troubled and conflicted rage.

"...You spoke to that imbecile of a King didn't you?"

you nodded: "He told me to stay for now. He seemed obviously displeased since, supposedly, I'm an opposing force to him... but," - you looked away from Jevil, remembering The King's low voice "Luckily things didn't go as horrible as I feared them to go."

With gritted teeth and a crooked smile, Jevil watched as you spoke of the King. You seemed at such ease, yet a hint of something amiable flickers in your eyes, like a faint star, when you spoke of the King's act of being patient with you. Jevil's own soul flinched, bothering tightly in his chest. But he restrained himself - "Tsk, tsk, for him to raise a hand at you, Ha! he'll be praying to his foolish knight for benevolence. I'll be making sure of that."

"... I really don't wish to see any violence. I guess he uses his intimidation as a weapon to threaten his enemies."

"A tyrant, tyrant he is. His threats are null - he's just a creep!"

You snickered - "...you have no idea how anxious I was when I spoke to him."

"Oh, I can only imagine, my Lightener." Jevil turned to lay on his stomach, letting his palms support his head with a dreamy look - "But look at yourself, being assigned by the utmost noble assistants from the Castle, taking up this luxurious service and room as your own. Use it, use it. For the time being, you need this calmness. You'll heal up easily if you just stay for a while... with me."

"Whether I like it or not, it seems this current situation is as good as it gets. And recovery is necessary, so you're right. Maybe I can stay here and just blend in as a strategy to know my grounds?"

He shook his head up and down, a jingle emitting from his jester-hat: "Though, may I condemn about this room, there's now a big scratch on that wall, see, see... since you tried to throw a chair at me and all."

"Haha, Yeah." - you replied proudly.

"...can I," - Jevil looked down sheepishly "be reassured that I won't meet another flying furniture in my face."

"Nope."

"Oh."

"I can never be sure when you'll try something sketchy again..."

"I pledge my words and I hereby declare on oath," - with a hand on his chest, he swore to you with utmost royalty while displaying his usual mischievous smile with a tongue sticking out playfully "At least not that kind of sketchy, my Lightner."

It hurts to giggle with a bruised abdomen, sure, but you and Jevil cared less at such a moment of solitude. Jevil inched closer, his own smile mirroring yours, while leaning on the soft blankets. Your gentle and morose smile abated his worries. In his eyes, you seemed so relaxed, so tranquilized. You no longer looked tribulated or beaten up from other battles - instead, you were dressed in new clean clothes, softly draped over your shoulders. Your back was pressed against the cool, velvet pillows. The comforter was thick and irresistibly soft, like a billowing cloud.

Oh, how he wished to melt within your embrace, yearning the warmth of your skin against his.

The two of you chatted the evening away; Regardless of your quiet and hesitant replies to the charismatic Jester, Jevil tempted to get on your good side as a covenant try to show you his companionship during your recovery. He was persistent, but didn't blame your resentment... even if it tore him from the inside furthermore.

"(Y/n)?" - Jevil murmured "I wanted to inform you about a matter..."

"What is it Jevil?"

"I-... I'm sorry."

You stayed silent, your lack of response shattering him slowly.

"I'm truly sorry for what I have done t-"

The jester wished to apologize, to plead for your forgiveness only to put aside your differences and disputes. It was the impassive expression that you held whenever you were down that drove Jevil into a hurricane of heartbreak; knowing that everything that he did to you was utterly unfair from his side. After all, he had so much to discuss with you, to share his troubles, his mind.

No longer was there a cell or a wall separating him from reaching you. You were right here. With him.

But alas, he spoke too late - for sudden series of knocks echoed from outside of your bedroom.

You and Jevil turned in alarm, knowing very well that the Jester cannot be seen anywhere nearby you. Hence standing hurriedly, Jevil heard you whispering: "Stay low."

With a nod and a twirl, he let the dark hues of the walls succumb his figure away, hiding. You made sure that not a hint of the clown was apparent.

The knocks became more repetitive. "I'm coming, I'm coming. Calm down-"

*You opened the door.

"GULLIBLE GRAND-WORM!"

For a moment you shielded your eyes in recoil; you were met with a tall slim figure standing majestically as if their very own presence must be forced as a delight for the mortal eye.

"I AMST ROUXLS KAARD! Duke of puzzles and thou're greatest adversary!"

The charming noble stood greatly in front of you, his royal-blue uniform glistering with silver buttons on his vest, complimenting his own silk hair and long eyelashes. Rouxls Kaard was certainly someone you haven't met yet, but a name you have heard from Lancer: "The hell kind of name is that?"

"Thou thought thee witnessed the best royal aristocrats in our kingdom - But those darkeners art nothing but utter weaklings!" - Everything from the way he held himself, to the way he spoke, to that look of unassailable tenacity in his eye creamed that he found himself to be the most charming man in this castle. His smile brimming with confidence. "Now prepare thouself for knowing the greatest personal assistant of thy life!"

You gaped at him. Just when you thought Jevil's way of speech tends to be confusing - this fella over here took the spotlight.

"Speechless? hath lost? confused? Most wondrous - lest I sure a Grand-Lightener hath nev'r seen a quaint Duke such as myself!" - He winked

"Um, say that again?"

"His Majesty hath assigned me as thy personal assistant and a helper to behold after thee or if thee required anything particular in thy new home."

"Wait, I thought that I already had enough guards and doctors looking out for me, how much more does the King needs to make sure that I won't run away?!"

"Then thou must be the luckiesteth mistress in this kingdom, Miss (L/n)."

"You've got to be kidding me." - You mumbled. This said Rouxls-Guy looked like a diva who was smacked by Shakespearean plays so hard that he flew off into the 15th century.

"But lest I don't joke around in these matters, just behold at thourself: thou art barely standing and completely swathed in bandages. Oh mine lord, That criminal Jester surely didst a number on thee." - With a disgusted frown, he eyed your patched up sleeves and injuries "But I has't an idea. Food wilt help thee to receiveth back on feet."

Although confused with his words and expression, the mention of the word 'food' got your instant attention "Yes, Speaking of food, I am actually quite hungry."

"Then we shall waiteth no more and head straight to the kitchen!"

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"thee must knoweth, Our royal chef got busy - so he's currently off duty. But luckily for thee, I - Rouxls Kaard, has't an enshielf passion for cooking."

Under his validation, Rouxls got the permission to guide you out of your room safely. He opened the door for you to step into the gigantic Kitchen, signaling for you stride right in and take a look. Hence, you silently obeyed, aweing at the avant-garde counters and cabinets. The Kitchen indeed looked modern, with the furniture and cooker glistering like the perfect steel, giving it a sharp color of hessonite. "Woah..."

"(Y/n)!" - from the kitchen Island, Lancer spotted you walking in with Rouxls. The boy hopped from his stool and clenched into your legs - "Well, well, I see you met Lesser Dad!"

As the three of you stepped into the Kitchen, You and Lancer sat on the stools in front of the island (though you had to pick up the small bean that is Lancer to make him reach the higher stools)

"So, What meal shall thou desire to dine?"

"Well, what do you recommend?" - you asked right back, your mouth drooling with just the thought of dinner.

"What a most wondrous question - I suggest thee trying mine best giveth: Mac and Cheese"

"Oh no." - Lancer shuddered, tucking on your arm for you to whisper something on your ear: "(Y/n), I really don't suggest it..."

"Huh? Why? It's a simple Mac n cheese, sounds alright."

Rouxls cleared his throat - "What thy choice shall be?"

"I mean - yeah sure, why not." - You answered, despite Lancer's evident expression of disgust and repulsion on his little spade. You were moderately hungry, and a simple meal of macaroni and cheese will be fast cooked. But, oh, what a horrible mistake have you done. Once you glanced at Kaard's satisfied smirk, he closed his eyes, his expression darkening.

"Gahaha..." - He chuckled, and laughed once more, and again. Each time his laugh turned from charming to maniacal before booming:

"I'm COOKING MAC AND CHEESE AND NOBODY CAN STOP ME!"

And thus, the Apocalypse of Saint John has come true as it was prophesied. With Rouxls Kaard's hands violently yanking the drawers away, he grabbed onto the endless packages of Macceronis and began violently dumping them into the boiling water. But Instead of The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse to ravish the land: macaroni, cheese, salt, and garlic were their substitutes.

You and Lancer nonchalantly watched the gates of hell slowly open before you -"Wow, he really loves mac n cheese."

"That's exactly why I didn't want you to pick it."

"Yeah...But hey, let's give this gent a benefit of the doubt. It's just mac and cheese, how bad could it be?"

Very. It was very bad.

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Boi Rouxls' speech will be hell - I won't be surprised if all of you began complaining about his dialogue as much as some did with Jevil.

Also, the lovable Kokiriicorn on Twitter ❤ wanted to show you something, guys, in return for your comments on her art: