#but here the MC stands so there MUST be something to that right?

[defectivevillain]

the human condition

pairings: the brothers/Reader, Diavolo/Reader, Solomon/Reader (can be interpreted as platonic or romantic)

summary: You’re sorting through paperwork with Lucifer when you accidentally slide your fingertip against the corner of a page. “Ow,” you say instinctually, more out of reflex than genuine pain. “Are you alright?” Lucifer asks, looking up from his papers for the first time since you started this task. “Oh, yeah,” you wave his concern off. “Just got a paper cut.” “A paper cut,” Lucifer repeats with bemusement and skepticism. “You got hurt by a piece of paper," he says incredulously.

The demon brothers learn a valuable lesson as they grow to include you in their lives: humans are very strange.

word count: 3.3k | ao3 version

warnings: mentions of sickness, medical care, injury.

I know demons are virtually the same as humans canonically, but I’ve always wanted to explore the brothers’ reactions to human things MC does, whether it’s a sneeze or a bruise or getting sick… And, well, here we are.

This won’t be canon compliant. This is set to take place sometime after Episode 15 and all seven brothers are included. The reader’s race and gender are ambiguous; no pronouns or physical descriptors are used**. There’s one bit where they’re stated to wear glasses & another where they had braces and currently wear retainers. But I feel like that’s a pretty easy thing to imagine, so… yeah!

**The reader is referred to with it/its pronouns once in Belphegor's snippet—skip reading it if it bothers you. i use these pronouns so i wrote that mostly for me 🤘

“Darling, what is that ghastly thing?” Asmodeus asks, breaking you out of your thoughts. 

“What thing?” you frown. The two of you are sitting in his bedroom, sprawled across his bed as you talk about stupid things. Asmodeus had been ranting about something when his eyes locked on something near you with startling focus. 

“This!” he says, pointing at your forearm. 

You follow his gaze, finding a spot of slightly discolored skin halfway down your arm. “Oh,” you say, “It’s just a bruise.” 

“A bruise?” Asmodeus repeats, his nose scrunched in confusion. 

“You know, a bruise,” you repeat. There’s nothing close to comprehension on his face. “...A contusion or whatever?” …Still nothing.

“I’ve never heard of such a thing,” the demon frowns. “And wow, is it unsightly.” Asmodeus remarks, disgust passing over his face before intrigue takes over it. He leans over you, before proceeding to poke at your skin curiously.  

“Ow, Asmo—” you hiss, batting his hand away. You don’t put much strength behind the gesture, but Asmodeus goes along with it anyway and removes his hand.  

“It hurts?” he then blinks owlishly. 

“Yes,” you say, letting your arm fall back to your side.  

Asmodeus shakes his head in disbelief. “Humans are so weird.” 

It’s late at night and you need to refill your glass of water. You’re tiredly walking out to the kitchen when a sudden noise breaks through the silence. 

“Hey.”

You inhale sharply, fear coursing through you until you recognize the familiar voice. “Holy shit, Beel,” you murmur, placing your hand on your chest momentarily and squinting through the darkness. You can only see the general outline of his form. “You scared me.”

“Sorry,” Beelzebub says. You think he must be frowning now. Again, it’s difficult to tell. “I thought you saw me.”

“Um…” you squint again. “No.” 

“Oops,” he says. You hear a light shuffling sound. “Can you see me now?” he asks. 

You blink again. “Sort of.”

Suddenly he’s standing right in front of you. You can’t suppress a flinch this time, instinctually leaning backwards. 

“Beel, stop that—!” you exclaim, nearly stumbling over yourself. 

He sets you straight with a hand on your shoulder, a frown rising on his face. “You can’t see in the dark, then?” Beelzebub hums.

“No,” you sigh. It’s as if he didn’t believe you—like he had to test it for himself to make sure. 

“Hmph,” Beelzebub frowns again. Or, at least, it sounds like he’s frowning. “That’s inconvenient.”

“I guess,” you concede. 

“What’s wrong with your skin?” Belphegor asks you one morning, when the two of you are relaxing in his room. 

“Hm?” you blink, momentarily distracted from looking down at your D.D.D.

“Your skin,” he restates. “Look,” he demands, pointing down at your forearm. You follow the demon’s gaze, only to find goosebumps scattered across your skin. 

“Oh, those are just goosebumps,” you answer casually. 

“Goose… bumps,” Belphegor repeats, his nose scrunched in evident revulsion. 

“Yeah,” you nod. “I’m not sure why they’re called that, but they show up on your skin if you get too cold.”

“Well, stop being cold,” Belphegor orders, as if you’re inconveniencing him. He probably thinks you are, although it’s entirely out of your control. You hardly have a chance to react before you’re promptly pelted in the face with a sweatshirt. “Here.” 

“Oof,” you say, peeling it off the crown of your head and putting it on. “Thanks, Belphie.”

“Shut up,” he murmurs. There’s a hint of pink rising on the back of his neck, as if he’s embarrassed. “Stupid human. Can’t even keep itself warm.” He huffs. You valiantly ignore the remark. 

“Why are there teeth in the bathroom?” Levi asks as he enters the room. And wow, what a way to make an entrance. Satan and you look over at Levi from where you’d been reading. 

“What?” Satan blinks questioningly, clearly just as confused as you are.

“Teeth,” Levi repeats himself, “in the bathroom.” 

How he expects the same exact remark to make more sense, you have no idea. It takes you a few moments to connect the dots, but you do eventually. “Oh!” you exclaim. “Those are just my retainers.”

“Your retainers,” Satan repeats. There’s a hint of sarcasm in his voice. “And what do they retain, exactly?” he asks sardonically. You scoff. 

“My teeth,” you respond. “Obviously,” you add, if only to combat his sarcasm. 

“So… what do you do with them?” Levi asks curiously, tilting his head as he looks at you. 

“I wear them every night when I sleep,” you explain. “They’re supposed to prevent my teeth from shifting.”

“Your teeth shift?” Satan exclaims incredulously. “You mean they can move?” 

“Um— yes,” you respond. “Human teeth always move, even after a person has braces.”

“What are braces?” Levi demands. 

“They’re metal brackets that an orthodontist puts on your teeth when they’re crooked. They guide the teeth into a more neat shape.” 

“I’m convinced you just made that up,” Satan says helpfully. 

You roll your eyes. “I had braces. But since my teeth can still move, I have to wear the retainers.”

“For how long?” Levi blinks. 

“The rest of my life.”

Satan whistles. “That sucks.”

You shrug amicably. 

“And I thought normies were weird,” Levi huffs. “But humans are even weirder.”

“Hey, wait: how’d you even see my retainers in the first place?” you realize aloud. “I always keep them in a case… in a drawer.” You wouldn’t just leave them on the counter—that would be pretty unsanitary. 

As if caught in a lie, Levi freezes and quickly bolts away. “Gotta go shower, bye—!” he says, slamming the bathroom door shut with more force than necessary. 

You stare after him in disbelief, an incredulous laugh bubbling up from your throat. 

“He was just curious,” Satan explains with a shrug. “Not that I blame him. Do your teeth truly keep growing?”

“Not growing, necessarily,” you contemplate. “Babies are born with baby teeth. Then, as you get older, you lose your baby teeth as your adult teeth grow in.”

“That’s similar to demons,” Satan confirms. 

“Our teeth eventually stop growing, but they can shift and move still,” you clarify. 

Satan shakes his head in annoyed disbelief. “Humans are truly an anomaly.”

You’re sorting through paperwork with Lucifer when you accidentally slide your fingertip against the corner of a page. “Ow,” you say instinctually, more out of reflex than genuine pain. 

“Are you alright?” Lucifer asks, looking up from his papers for the first time since you started this task.

“Oh, yeah,” you wave his concern off. “Just got a paper cut.” You squint down at your finger and grit your teeth in annoyance. You’re so concentrated that you don’t know Lucifer’s pensive silence or furrowed brows. 

“A….. paper cut,” he restates, a mix of bemusement and concern in his voice. 

“You don’t get those?” you ask. 

“You got hurt by a piece of paper,” Lucifer says incredulously. Suddenly he’s getting to his feet and striding over to you, taking your hand in his and investigating your fingertip. “Hm. You weren’t joking. How strange.”

He continues to study your skin with a frightening intensity. Your hand is almost shaking in his grip, as you attempt to fight off your restlessness at his proximity. Eventually Lucifer sighs and lets his grip fall away. “Does it hurt?”

“Yeah,” you admit. “Paper cuts are just a minor inconvenience… But for whatever reason, they can really hurt sometimes. Feels like your skin is splitting apart.” They really shouldn’t hurt, but they do. One time, you had one that spanned your entire fingertip. This one doesn’t look nearly as bad, fortunately. But it still burns. 

“You’re rather breakable,” the Avatar of Pride notes. 

“It’s just a paper cut,” you feel the need to say defensively.

“Of course,” Lucifer responds, an indulgent and amused smile on his face. There’s a knowing smirk on his face and you roll your eyes, abandoning the argument. 

Solomon and you often get stuck accompanying one another to the human realm whenever you need anything. The demon realm is great, but it doesn’t have everything humans need. Besides, sometimes it’s nice to breathe in some fresh air or be among other humans. 

Today’s visit has a purpose, though. After a rather unfortunate incident involving Mammon, you, and a chandelier, you find yourself with broken glasses. (Thanks, Mammon.) It’s been roughly a year since you’ve had an eye exam, so it’s about time for another appointment anyways. Unfortunately, the Devildom doesn’t have eye doctors (and you still remember the perplexed look on Levi’s face when you casually asked him one day). That’s how you find yourself in your ophthalmologist’s office in the human realm. Solomon dropped you off with the promise that he’d return the moment you texted, leaving you to slowly waste away in the waiting room. 

Fortunately, your name is finally called and you’re able to undergo all of the various examinations. You emerge an hour later with dilated pupils, an updated prescription, and reassurance from the doctor that nothing is amiss. You manage to text Solomon—through slightly blurred vision—and he arrives within five minutes. 

You can only hope to slip into the manor unnoticed. But from the very moment you slip through the front doors, Mammon is bounding up to you like an overexcited puppy. He seems moments away from looping an arm around you and dragging you off into some misguided adventure when he locks eyes with you and freezes. 

“Whoa, what the hell—?” Mammon exclaims, staring at you intently. “Oi, human, don’t tell me ya got possessed—!” His hands clamp on your shoulders and he starts shaking you roughly. 

“Mammon, stop it,” you object, grabbing onto his shoulders and attempting to prevent him from shaking you any harder. He calms down a little, but he still looks confused. “I’m not possessed. I just had an appointment with an eye doctor.”

“Well, how’d they screw up so bad then, huh?” he spits. In another situation, his concern would be touching; but now, it’s mostly just amusing. “Ya look like a shark!”

“It’s just one of the tests,” you explain. “They had to dilate my pupils.” 

“Humans are crazy,” Mammon asserts. He’s studying you from far too close—occasionally changing his angle as if it will somehow give him new insight. “You look so freaky.”

“Thanks, Mammon,” you sigh. 

“Does it hurt?” he asks. “I bet it does; yer such a baby.” The insult seems to be a cover-up for his concern. 

“It doesn’t really hurt,” you reassure him. “It just feels a little strange. The drops really just affect your vision. I can’t focus on things in front of me, and it sort of looks like I’m seeing double.”

“Well, there’s nothing for it but resting your eyes,” Mammon sighs theatrically, looping an arm around your shoulders. “Let’s watch the next episode of Destroyman. ”

“How is that supposed to help my eyes?” you ask skeptically. 

“Hey, I’ve been waiting for ya all day!” Mammon exclaims. “We’re watching the next episode, even if it looks all blurry to you.” The demon is soon yanking you along before you can object. 

“There’s the culprit,” Belphegor remarks, looking up at you as you enter the dining room for breakfast. The brothers are staring at you intently. 

“Good morning to you too,” you huff, shoving your hands in the pockets of your uniform and taking the empty seat at the table. It’s a bit unusual to see all seven brothers at the table like this, especially so early in the morning. “What’d I do?” you blink cluelessly. 

“You don’t remember?” Beel pipes up, blinking at you curiously. He seems to be mid-bite, with some food hanging out of his mouth. Lucifer chides him for table manners and Beel huffs, promptly demolishing the rest of his food. 

“You were roaming the halls in the middle of the night like a ghost!” Mammon explains before anyone else can. He sounds particularly energetic this morning. “It was freaky.”

Roaming the halls at night? You don’t remember doing that, which can only mean one thing. “Oh, I was probably just sleepwalking,” you realize aloud. 

“Wonders truly never cease,” Lucifer says dryly. “Just how many eccentricities do humans possess?” he muses. 

You sigh, remembering all of the strange interactions you’ve had over the past few weeks. “I’m not choosing to do any of this, you know,” you frown. “I can’t control it.” It’s not like you wanted to get a paper cut, or a bruise, or goosebumps. These are just facts of life. 

“We know, dear,” Asmo reassures you. 

“It’s okay,” Levi says, barely sparing you a glance as he stares down at his plate. “None of these human behaviors are super annoying.” That’s very meaningful coming from Levi of all demons. 

“They’re just weird,” Satan supplies helpfully. You roll your eyes at him. 

“It seems my brothers were just… worried,” Lucifer explains. 

“Hey, you were worried too!” Mammon objects. “You were the one to—” Whatever the Avatar of Greed means to say next promptly fades into obscurity, as Lucifer sends his younger brother a murderous glare to silence him. 

“Okay,” you eventually remark, uncomfortable with the sudden tension settling in the room. “Well, sorry to disturb you guys, I guess. Sleepwalking is normal for humans, though.” 

“I’m starting to think nothing about humans is normal,” Satan mutters under his breath. Lucifer nods in agreement. You just roll your eyes and pretend not to hear the remark, serving yourself some food and beginning to eat breakfast. Despite the fanfare, it’s nice to know the brothers care about you—even if they don’t show it in very orthodox ways. 

“Oh,” a familiar voice says one afternoon. You blink blearily, your dizzy vision momentarily clarifying to reveal Diavolo standing over you. You’re crumpled on the floor, your cheek pressed to the cold hardwood as sweat rolls down the nape of your neck. “I must say, when I heard of your absence, I assumed you ditched classes for the day.”

It’s difficult for you to process what he’s saying; his voice sounds warped. The headmaster just hums. “Are you… alright?” he asks. You can barely manage a weak nod. Diavolo sighs. “Forgive me for the foolish question. You’re clearly not alright. Here, let’s get you up…” 

You hardly have the chance to object before the demon is lifting you into his arms as if you weigh nothing at all. He sets you on your bed with deceptive gentleness, before staring at you and frowning. 

“I don’t suppose you know what’s happening to you,” Diavolo says. 

“I think I’m sick,” you manage to respond. Your voice sounds a little raspy and your airways feel a bit tight. You clear your throat, wincing at the dryness the gesture provokes. You must have a fever, because your body temperature keeps oscillating between frigid cold and searing warmth. Before you can think better of it, you blink dazedly and reach out to grab Diavolo’s hand. “Tell me if I feel warm.”

He’s clearly a bit confused, but he allows you to guide his hand to your temple. 

“You’re hot,” he observes after a moment.

“Thanks,” you huff deliriously.  

“Your temperature,” he clarifies with a knowing smile, shaking his head. “What does this mean?” Diavolo frowns. 

“I have a fever,” you answer. “When a human’s body temperature is too high, it causes sickness.”

“What can be done about it?” he continues. 

“Depends,” you reply. “Sometimes it breaks on its own; sometimes you need antibiotics.” 

“Antibiotics,” Diavolo repeats, the concept clearly foreign to him. “I can’t say I’m familiar. But it’s clear that you should rest. I’ll watch over you.” Whatever else he says is lost on you, as you close your eyes and surrender to the persistent fatigue burning your eyelids. 

You wake several hours later to a room devoid of Diavolo. You’re not exactly surprised that he had to leave—he’s the ruler of the Devildom, after all. He surely has far more important things to do than look after you. You blink away traces of sleep as you look around the room, your vision clarifying to reveal Solomon sitting in the armchair in the corner of the room. You blink at him silently. 

“Oh, you’re awake,” Solomon says. “How are you feeling?”

“…Fine,” you admit, touching your temple experimentally. Your headache has subsided a little, but your skin still feels a bit warm. At your movement, Solomon pushes himself to his feet and feels your forehead. 

“Your temperature’s coming down, finally,” he hums. 

“What are you doing here?” you finally manage to ask. 

“Diavolo summoned me,” Solomon explains. “Supposedly, he attempted to enlist the help of the brothers, but they proved to be rather useless. They are… woefully uninformed when it comes to humans, after all.”

That’s true. “Thanks,” you remember to say. He didn’t have to come, after all. Just because he’s the only other human, doesn’t mean he’s relegated to nursing you back to health. 

“No problem,” Solomon nods sincerely. He doesn’t seem too bothered by the whole arrangement. “It’s nice not to be the only human. Although, I expect around the clock service and care the next time I fall ill.”

You smile tiredly. “Of course,” you agree. It’s a frighteningly easy promise to make. 

After your sickness, you notice that the brothers begin to ease up on you a bit. Mammon’s no longer texting you in the middle of the night, demanding that you entertain him; Lucifer doesn’t mind if you occasionally take a day to complete your work remotely at the mansion; Asmo’s physical affection is gentler than normal; Levi doesn’t tease you about being a normie as much; Beelzebub doesn’t ever touch your plate or food; hell, even Belphegor is behaving himself—no longer interfering with your naps or sleep. 

One afternoon, Lucifer approaches you in the living room. He greets you before settling on the couch next to you, his posture rigid and proper. “You may have noticed that my brothers…” Lucifer starts, before pausing and shaking his head, “...that we have been acting a bit different than normal.” You nod. 

“In the past few weeks—especially in light of your bout of sickness—we realized that we’ve been neglecting you and your health. A demon’s stamina is much stronger than a human’s—we need less sleep; food is more of a luxury than a necessity; our bodies are more resistant to injury… You understand.”

“What I mean to say is…” Lucifer trails off again, an uncharacteristic sign of hesitation from him. He takes a slow breath. “I apologize for the oversight.”

“It’s okay,” you reassure him. 

“It is not,” Lucifer states firmly. “We have neglected to consider just how difficult this transition must be for you. We—I—didn’t think to ensure your health and safety were priorities.”

“But no more. I’ve spoken to Diavolo and Solomon at length, in addition to doing some elective research, to ensure we are not so unprepared in the future. And, should your accommodations be unsuitable—should anything here be unsuitable—I want you to inform me at once.”

That… sounds a lot more serious than what you were expecting. You blink. “That’s— That’s really not necessary,” you try to say. 

“It wasn’t a request,” Lucifer interjects smoothly. It’s a firm but well-meaning statement. “Do you understand?”

You swallow. “Yes.”

“Good.” There’s a hint of a smile on his lips now. “Truthfully, my brothers were very worried for you.” Lucifer pauses for a moment. “I was very worried for you,” he admits.

You’re sure you look surprised now. Lucifer only laughs, before getting to his feet and placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. You can almost convince yourself that the look in his eyes is unbearably fond. But he’s soon withdrawing, leaving you to wonder if you imagined the entire interaction.

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[harunayuuka2060]

*The dorm leaders woke up confused; staring at Kalim's empty bed.*

Leona: That dumb bastard— Did he go out again?

Riddle: We should go search for him right away!

Malleus: Hold on. I hear a commotion outside.

"Poor thing—he was killed before the hunt."

"We should have seen it coming. He was foolish."

"I wonder if they’ll let us preserve his body."

"Don’t even think about it. He’s been getting on everyone’s nerves. I’m sure it’s already been mutilated by now."

The dorm leaders: ...

Riddle: *was about to rush outside when Leona grabbed him*

Riddle: Let go of me, Leona-senpai!

Leona: What? Do you want to follow him to his grave?

Riddle: ...

Vil: ...

Vil: We should call the fake Prefect to find out what happened.

Malleus: There's no need.

MC(?): *opens the door to the room*

MC(?): I'm here to deliver the unfortunate news of your friend's passing.

Idia: You... I know you're on our side. Why didn’t you do anything to help him?

MC(?): He violated the rules.

Riddle: THAT'S ALL YOU COULD SAY?!

Azul: Riddle!

Riddle: *has grabbed them by the collar* Did you just stand by and watch while he was being killed?!

MC(?): I understand... your sadness...

Azul: Riddle! *pulling him away from them*

Riddle: LET ME GO, AZUUUL!!!

MC(?): ...

Malleus: You should leave now.

MC(?): I'm sorry that it has come to this. *they said as they left the room*

*Riddle continued to cry over Kalim's death while Azul tried to comfort him. The rest of the dorm leaders remained silent.*

Professor Trein(?): *staring at MC(?)*

Professor Trein(?): It must have been difficult.

MC(?): What are you trying to say?

Professor Trein(?): You killed him.

MC(?): ...

Professor Trein(?): Soon, it will cause an imbalance. You knew that, didn’t you?

MC(?): ...

MC(?): I'm fortunate... that his presence isn't as significant as the others.

Professor Trein(?): Even so, this should be the first and last time. If you try to intervene again, their patience will run out.

MC(?): Yes... I appreciate your concern.

Leona(?): Look at them. Is his death that big of a deal? *chuckles*

Vil(?): Shouldn't they feel relieved that a heavy burden has been lifted off their shoulders? I don't understand the need to mourn.

Malleus: We need to see the body.

Leona(?): Body? Hmm... That would be hard... *smirks* Unless you enjoy solving puzzles, you're free to collect his parts.

Malleus: *glares at him*

Leona(?): *chuckles*

Idia: Malleus... Please calm down.

Malleus: ...

Malleus: If you tell me the location, I'll go and collect them myself.

Leona(?) and Vil(?): ...

Leona(?): Huh. Very well.

Vil(?): Leona—

Leona(?): It's fine. He wants the scraps. Let him.

Azul: I hate to admit it, but this place is unexpectedly decent.

Idia: ...

Idia: Hey, Malleus. Have you noticed something?

Malleus: Yes.

Leona: What are you two whispering about?

Malleus: The doppelgangers, they didn't follow us here.

Vil: You're right.

Riddle: I could see Kalim from a distance...

Leona: Ha... Did someone sew him back up?

Vil: Leona.

Malleus: ...

Malleus: *approaches the corpse*

Malleus: ...

Malleus: Rosehearts, come here.

Riddle: Malleus-senpai?

Malleus: There is something you need to see.

Riddle: ...

Riddle: *comes over*

Malleus: Do you notice anything?

Riddle: ...

Malleus: Look closely.

Riddle: ...

Malleus: *sigh* This is not Al Asim.

Riddle: Huh?

Leona: What?

Vil: What's going on?

Leona: The lizard bastard, he's saying that it's not Kalim.

The rest of the dorm leaders: ...

Riddle: Malleus-senpai, are you saying...

Malleus: *smiles* We've been tricked.

The rest of them: !!!

Kalim: MC, are you sure it's okay for me to leave alone? Won't you get punished?

MC(?): *has led him to the cave Jamil(?) told them last time*

MC(?): ...

MC(?): You are the weakest in your group.

Kalim: Haha... Sorry. I think that's why you saved me from him.

Kalim: But if you could fight, why have you been allowing them to treat you like that?

MC(?): ...

MC(?): Here. Leave the key.

Kalim: Okay.

MC(?): ...

MC(?): The others will follow suit... I just need more time for that to happen.

Kalim: ...

Kalim: *smiles* *hugs MC*

MC(?): !!!

Kalim: I... I will also call for help!

MC(?): ...

MC(?): Please be on your way.

Kalim: Hm! Take care of the others for me!

MC(?): ...

MC(?): I will try my best.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

 book 7 chapter 12 part 2 thoughts!

***THIS POST CONTAINS MASSIVE SPOILERS FOR BOOK 7 PART 12 OF THE MAIN STORY!!*** This spans part 245 to part 268, focusing on Trey and Ace.

We will get Riddle's dream in a future update (scheduled for Feb 7th)!

Please note: this is NOT meant to be a summary or a translation; these are only my initial thoughts on the events that roughly unfold. There may be details overlooked or misunderstood in this post, so PLEASE do not use this as a translation.

The group lands on a tropical island! These are reused assets from the Lost in the Book with Stitch event.

Cater indicates that he's fine from the bumpy ride; he likes the thrill! It reminds him of sky diving. He also shares that he once lived by the sea in Pyroxene/the Shaftlands and that he enjoys board-related activities (snowboarding, surfing, skateboarding, etc.)

IHBASOUFA8TVVAD8FA RIGHT AS THEY'RE TALKINGA BOUT THIS, LEONA INTERRUPTS AND TELLS THE KIDS TO STOP WASTING TIME, THEY GOTTA FIND THE DREAMER 💀 (Can't believe I'm saying this, but I want to shake his hand for reminding everyone to get the fuck back on track instead of standing around talking for several parts in a row...)

They find some footprints in the sand and decide to follow them. Due to the size and shape of the footprints being similar to Deuce's, they think the footprints must be Ace's and will lead them to him.

We bump into Ace (who is wearing his beachwear clothes from the Stitch event), along with dream!Riddle (also in his beachwear) and dream!Trey (who is in his Yasmina silk from the fireworks event). Trey was cooking up BBQ for everyone! afhlbllbaiad THE TWST DEVS ARE REALLY GETTING MILEAGE OUT OF THOSE OLD ASSETS, HUH...

Ace speaks to Deuce, Cater, Grim, and Yuu in a familiar tone, but is shocked to see everyone else. He also mentions dream!Cater leaving to change into swimwear and to take pics by the sparkling sea; it looks like he was dreaming of all of Heartslabyul and Grim + Yuu hanging out here. Apparently, dream!Cater rented a place for them by the beach from Kalim's family.

Ace and dream!Trey explain they're celebrating because Yuu can now freely pass between Twisted Wonderland and their original world. asdbihasiodasqevyf IS THIS SLIGHT SHADE AT THE THEORISTS THAT PROPOSED SOMETHING SIMILAR TO KEEP YUU AS THE MC IN TWST... (Turns out, Ace must have been really wishing for Yuu to not leave their friend group forever www) This seems to be their summer vacation after the first school year.

Cater volunteers himself, Silver, Leona, and Idia to help Trey with making BBQ. This is so they can monitor the darkness while giving the first years a chance to wake Ace. Congrats to Cater for being a little useful in these dreams 🤡

The first years directly confront Ace as he is showing them options for beachwear to change into. However, to everyone’s shock, Ace is in complete denial and brushes it off when his head starts to hurt. He tells they are all being overly negative and it's harshing his vibes! It's vacation time, so why are they trying to ruin things with jokes that are in poor taste? This marks the first major instance of the dreamer resisting the feeling of “waking”.

Sebek intervenes and tries to take charge of the argument. Even with Sebek shouting about all the havoc Malleus's magic is causing... even when Sebek says Malleus's magic will eventually swallow the world, Ace has no problem with it. He claims it's not his problem. Besides, everyone's going to be living happily in dreams, right? And this is the path that Malleus chose for himself, so he should accept the consequences of his actions. What's the issue there? Besides, he doesn't want to cooperate with a person like Sebek who constantly looks down on others and paints all the dreamers as victims in need of saving.

Ace storms out in a fit of anger. Grim starts blaming Sebek for things emotionally escalating. Then Ortho confronts Sebek with this question: if it was not Malleus Draconia behind the current situation, would Sebek really be trying as hard as he is to rectify things? This question shocks Sebek into silence.

Cater and the others show up to check in on us. From our crestfallen expressions, he can tell we failed to wake Ace.

HUHHHHHHHH 😟 Silver suddenly gets super strict with Sebek and scolds him for the trouble his rudeness has caused everyone + their seniors. He says that the people around Sebek have been too lenient with him and thus spoiled him; he needs to reflect on his actions!! Sebek uses a really quiet voice and apologizes to us (but he still uses kisama which is a pompous and rude way to speak to others 😭).

LEONA 💀 He suggests they are wasting too much time trying to wake a small fry like Ace and it may be more efficient to skip him and move onto the next dreams. THE DAD THAT LEFT FOR MILK, FOLKS

… What the fuck. I did not expect Ace’s dream to better my opinion of CATER of all people but lo and behold, it is. Cater agrees with Leona that it may be more efficient to skip Ace’s dream. He and Idia do not need to worry about Ace anymore. This first year is Heartslabyul’s so it’s not their responsibility. Cater walks off and Yuu, Grim, and Deuce chase him. The others follow in a separate group due to the radius for Ace’s dream world not being very large.

Deuce begs Cater to let him try talking to Ace one more time before they give up on him. AND THEN CATER ACTS LIKE THE DAD THAT STEPPED UP because he tells Deuce he never had any intention of abandoning Ace 😭 Deuce, Grim, and Yuu decide to team up with Cater to wake Ace, especially considering they may have to combat darkness this time.

Cater finds Ace by himself and asdbhlabsyod8ysaas8fb uses Split Card to make a bunch of clones to gang up and pummel his junior... "I'll show you this is a dream :))" *PROCEEDS TO BEAT THE CRUD OUT OF ACE* Unfortunately for Cater, dream!Riddle, Trey, Cater, and Deuce show up to put a stop to things. (I want to add it's hilarious that Cater is also in Yasmina silk but Deuce is stuck in his P.E. Uniform asdhbasoyafae)

Ace is tempted by the darkness and mumbles a bunch of stuff about how he doesn't want to do difficult things like fighting Malleus. He says he’s just an ordinary mage and doesn’t even have his UM yet. We're shocked by Ace's cowardly side but Silver points out that darkness being present feeds and amplifies your most negative emotions.

Anyway, Sebek and co. want to barge in to save Ace, but Leona holds them back; they should leave it to Cater.

fuasboyfg8fdasibTHER'S THIS ON e FUNnY MOMENT. Leona says that those that it's easy for the darkness to indulge in the dreamer when they're at their lowest/acting cowardly. Idia voice) Eeeeh, aren't you talking about yourself, Leona-shi... abhlfbioasfoasobifadib LEONA NYOOMS OVER TO IDIA'S TABLET AND COMES CLOSE TO BREAKING IT... Watch yourself, Idia...

WOW CATER 🤯 He blew my mind… Cater reminds us and Ace that when Riddle OB’d, Ace was the one that stepped up to fight even when the battle seemed unwinnable—and it was Cater who wanted to run. He tells Ace he looked so cool back then, but he hasn’t had the chance to thank him for it until now.

ACE LAUGHS AND CRiES

Cater pulls Ace out of the darkness!! He calls to Leona and co. for backup~ (One neat touch here is Ace says one of his battle opener lines: “Okay~ I’ll get this over with fast.”)

Deuce and Grim bonk Ace on the head for giving them a hard time. augwjsjs Ace starts to given’m lip again but Leona tells him to watch how he speaks to upperclassmen OTL

do skwguwuwn AcE CALLS oUT SILVER AnD LILIA foR SPOILING SEBEK… Cater interrupts to remind them to get along + respect their seniors or the red demon Riddle will come for them!

Adeuce are embarrassed about having to shout Dream Form Change. Idia enjoys it. Cater does too; he thinks it’s cute and wants Adeuce to do it again so he can take a video (they refuse to).

Deuce makes a passing comment about how maybe they don’t know Cater as well as they think they do?? The Cater they think they know is obsessed with taking pictures… but maybe he can be reliable too!

Sebek and Ace bicker again as they prepare to dream hop. Once again, Leona comes in clutch by telling them to stfu and for Silver to hurry it along.

They land in front of Heartslabyul dorm in Trey’s dream.

Ace didn’t have an issue with their travel; in fact, he posed when Cater pointed his phone at him!

We tell Ace we’ve basically gotten about 20ish people recruited to our cause already, plus the support of S.T.Y.X.! However, their group is 10 people now (Grim, Yuu, Ace, Deuce, Cater, Silver, Sebek, Idia, Ortho, and Leona), which will make it dangerous to dream hop.

Grim mentions that if he is without Yuu, he won’t count as a student. That’s weird, because earlier in book 7 he mentions moving to the second year even once Yuu has returned home… Maybe this will be formally discussed later??? It sounds slightly contradictory.

They smell butter and follow it to the Heartslabyul kitchen. Cater stops everyone suddenly?? He doesn't think it's wise if all 10 of them cram into the kitchen at once; he will go since it's not odd for a Heartslabyul student to be present in the area. Plus, if things get dicey, he can always use his UM as an excuse or in a combative pinch!

asdhasbyofasd Leona and Idia get dragged along with Cater since they're the oldest. This conveniently allows the others to listen in on the conversation in the kitchen by using the mic built into Idia's tablet. (Idia however is not happy that he gets stuck with the sunny Cater and the grumpy Leona.)

WHOA check out the cakes and other baked goods here???? I don't even like sweets, but this looks tasty.

Cater tells the other two with him that Trey handmakes goodies for unbirthday parties. He has advised in the past that Trey take shortcuts (using commercial goods/already made cakes or box mixes, I presume), but Trey doesn't listen. Cater suspects it's because Trey thinks it's way too fun to bake to give it up, even if it would be faster to use another way.

They overhear people talking and... WHAT THE HECK, CHENYA'S THE HEARTSLABYUL DORM LEADER NOW????? ? ? ?? ??? ? ? ? ?? ? ? He's complimenting Trey's meat pies...

P.S. That chef's outfit looks so good OTL

Ortho casually hacks into the RSA student database to report on who Chenya is (since Silver and Sebek have no clue who he is).

We sort of get an explanation for Cater’s dream??? He says he wished to live comfortably and happily, as if every day was like his birthday. Somehow that got twisted to him being dorm leader…

xhsvhwiwkw The first years are bickering outside… Ace and Grim are fighting to see what’s happening, Sebek is being too loud so Ortho chastises him.

Trey is able to tell the original Cater from the clones??? Bro is Haruhi Fujioka OHSHC… He comments that Cater looks different than usual, so he knew right away.

Riddle seems to be a regular card solider. He tried to challenge Chenya for his dorm leader seat.

Chenya explains Riddle lost to him because his UM doesn’t work on Chenya. He then demonstrates his UM…! (Note: some creative liberties taken while transcribing in order to slap in an Alice in Wonderland quote :3c)

“Most everyone’s mad here. You might’ve already noticed I’m not all there. Not All My Head!”

(More direct translation of the incantation would be, “Everybody's weird here. You've noticed that already, haven't you?”)

It doesn’t just refract the light and make Chenya appear invisible; his body is literally NOT there. This explains why Riddle’s UM doesn’t work Chenya—there is literally nothing there to collar.

cHENYA bULLIES RiDDLE A LIRTKE BY HsRaiNH An EmBaarRsING StORY 😭

Anyway, Riddle has challenged Chenya many times but lost because Chenya is an expert at avoidance. Riddle uses up his magic and burns out easily.

Oooh? Chenya talks about a special language his grandpa taught him. It reminds me of Riddlish from Ever After High.

Trey’s ideal Heartslabyul… it’s one with loose rules, a huge ass kitchen that can be used freely, and a dorm leader that is easygoing. It’s pretty mild and grounded.

Trey asks the third years to sample a prototype lemon jelly and yogurt dessert for him. The only sweetener is honey so eve Cater should be okay with it—and Chenya won’t be mad if someone violates the “dorm leader gets the first bite rule”, even if desserts like jellies are excluded from that rule. Cater agrees but insists that Trey joins them.

dhisbwkwnw Leona has meat pie instead of the lemon dessert. Trey wants to make more to feed his guests and decides to make enough for all of the dorm.

The first years are drooling and jealous that the third years get to eat when they’re supposed to be investigating!

Cater is impressed that Silver had the fortitude to go through so many dreams. He thinks he may have given up a while ago if he were in Silver’s shoes???

Trey says he likes baking because it is satisfying to see the finished product—and others can enjoy it too, so it is killing two birds with one stone. Even Riddle is able to eat as much as he wants now. Apparently Riddle was the close to the same age as Trey’s younger brother at the time (Trey was 9 or 10; Riddle is one year older than the Clover brother). Trey describes Riddle as very mature for his age.

Hmm, interesting… The part of Riddle’s past where his mom caught him eating a strawberry tart remains unchanged.

LMAO the Clovers got scolded for 5 hours by Mrs. Rosehearts… Trey claims he and his family now laugh about the incident. Out group theorizes that this is result of trauma; it’s Trey’s way of coping.

Oh????? Trey says Riddle has changed a lot since he left his parents. Due to Chenya’s encouragement, Riddle now eats as much as he wants. Apparently both he and Chenya see Riddle like a little brother and they love seeing him be able to grow up.

ASGYUGYASNNYFOYADSSD Leona's theories keep being proven wrong in these dreams... He theorizes that Trey might have been angry when he became vice dorm leader, but Cater says that's not the case.

Trey was very excited when Riddle entered NRC; he told the other Heartslabyul students that his childhood acquaintance is joining the school. Although Riddle is quiet, he is talented at magic and Trey hopes they get along well. But then when Riddle enrolled, he was a completely different person than how Trey remembered him. He had developed a short fuse and become very controlling... cutting himself off from his feelings in order to rule. Riddle also acts detached from Trey.

In the flashback we see, Riddle has a heart mark. I guess this is what he had in reality too, not just the dream world.

Anyway, when time came to appoint a vice dorm leader (dorm members vote for them), Trey kind of got handed the job. Cater suggests it was probably tough on Trey to see that Riddle had changed so much; at one point, Riddle even beheaded Trey because the rules do not discriminate. He also suggests that maybe Chenya is in Trey's dream so that both friends can be present to support Riddle.

ajbuasiodyasida CATER CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT... He confesses that he's always a spectator and now, seeing this, he wonders if he should have done more or intervened sooner.

UUUUUUH, there's a big BOOM!!???!! heard over Idia's tablet. It sounds like the other group is in trouble! But what are they dealing with...?

... Oh. OH.

THIS IS LITERALLY THE TWST ORB MERCH 😭😭😭😭😭 Tweedledumb and Tweedledumber... and round Cater and Riddle...

uMMMMMMMM I feel like I learned about one of Trey’s secret special interests and I don’t like it one bit 🪦

Riddle is now the tallest second year... bigger than a horse... How is he gonna ride Vorpal?! Ace and the others are in distress, saying that he can't do basketball and Deuce can't do track and field with those round bodies!!

We attempt to fight the massive dream!Heartslabyul boys, but it's useless!! Silver tries to form a barrier, but the dream!boys just roll too fast and knock him over before he can complete the spell! Cater tells Leona to use his UM to help out, but Leona can't because there would be collateral damage if used in an enclosed space.

The dream!boys try to convince Trey to stay in the dream but they start to present information that doesn't make sense. For example, dream!Riddle does not care about nutritional content; he will eat anything if it's something Trey made! Dream!Cater starts to eat a bunch of sweets to demonstrate his willingness to consume what Trey makes for them; ah, but that's not right either because in the real world, Cater doesn't like sweets at all!

Trey is able to wake up on his own...!

Aaaand we got the context for his groovy...? AFBADAVADSPB SO THE CATER AND RIDDLE PICTURED HERE, LOOKING DOWN AT HIM... IT'S THE ROUND ASS ONES AKHLBAFSIYBAFIYVAFOV8YQEOVYPQRWBFUEFABIHFDIB THAT MAKES THIS ILLUSTRATION SO MUCH LESS SERIOUSSSSSSSS

There's a big BOOM!! BHLFBIAFSIYBAFSIBYADFBIADVBLDFS LEONA SANDED SOME OF THE BIG ORBS?? ? ?? ? ? ???? ? ? Bye-bye, round Adeuce...

We rally with Trey and he has an admittedly cool line... "Don't talk with your mouth full. It's poor manners under the law of the Queen of Hearts!"

After the darkness is dispelled, Trey is caught up to speed and expresses he's not sure if a normal mage like him can be of much use against Malleus; why didn't they go for Riddle, who is way more powerful, first? asfhbasyuvfgfyoaodasi Ace has a cute moment where he reminds Trey that it was HIS unique magic that overrode Riddle's and saved his ass. Besides, we need Trey to help out with Riddle. He's Riddle's bestie, right?

HAHAHAHAHAHAFHAFH Sebek quietly says he is indebted to Trey... I just think about how Sebek has said Trey reminds him of his father OTL Ace whines about how Sebek treats him and Trey so differently and Sebek shouts that a third year will actually be HELPFUL, unlike Ace. afbaiuliafiefa GIRLIEPOPS YOUR BICKERING PLEASES ME... continue--

Cater takes a picture of Trey in his chef clothes before he swaps over to his dorm uniform; he wants to show Riddle later! I think Trey also brings along a strawberry tart...? Not sure if it transfers from dream to dream or if I'm misunderstanding the wording there.

Then they all gather around Silver and move on to Riddle's dream! (Leona closes off this section with a banger line about how it's time to get back on the small crowded bus. LMAO)

Alright, so what were my overall thoughts on this update? I definitely feel as though the writers got better at writing the dreams as they continued. The first few felt awkward and stilted, but the more recently ones (Savanaclaw and Heartslabyul) are noticeably smoother, even when kept in the confines of already established patterns.

I really appreciated how often Leona was kept telling everyone to shut up and move on with the story. He sounds so tired, annoyed, and wanting to get to the end of book 7 already. It feels like the devs are speaking to us through Leona bilfiaylasdpasod

I'm a little surprised that Ace didn't get his UM in his dream, but I guess maybe they're saving it for the very end battle? I find it suspicious that he brings up and laments his lack of UM while talking about how he's a "normal" mage that doesn't stand a chance against a big boss like Malleus. This sounds like intentional foreshadowing for that confrontation.

As I expected, Ace had a special interaction with Sebek, much like most of the other first years have. (I've updated my "Sebek and the first years in book 7" analysis post based on this.) Ace capping things off by openly calling out Sebek's flaws helps to bring everything full circle. I was also pretty spot-on about Ace's dream covering Yuu being able to stay in Twisted Wonderland. I'm surprised that they did the "Yuu can go between the two worlds as they like" thing; it's a very convenient idea proposed by many theorists in the fandom in order to maintain having Yuu as the POV character in Twst while also allowing Yuu (the in-universe character) to be able to return to their friends/family back home. More and more... the dreams feel like vague fanfiction addressing some fun fandom theories and ideas.

I found it really fascinating that Trey's dream didn't erase the moment in his life that tore Riddle away from him. I wonder if the trauma is just so deep-rooted that even Malleus's magic couldn't get rid of it...? Or if the event was framed by the magic as something sad that had to happen so he could spoil Riddle and give him a happy life now??? I can also understand an interpretation in which Trey feeds others or does his best to help them out even if he finds it bothersome because some part of him still holds onto that immense guilt he feels for his role in the Tart Incident. And in that sense, it's the dream allowing Trey to indulge others without stop, without moderation--a weakness of his that he was warned about in Vil's Labwear vignettes.

asdlhbasnyurnoabafsi NOT GONNA LIE, TREY'S DREAM IS GOING TO GIVE ME NIGHTMARES. Don't get me wrong, I love how whimsical it is, and how he can just enjoy baking to his heart's content. I also love that we get Chenya's UM name and incantation, as well as more about how it actually works. HOWEVER. The massive spheres that Trey made of his dorm members freak me out 💀 THERE'S SOMETHING SO GROTESQUE ABOUT MASSIVE BODIES WITH SMUSHED TINY FACES ROLLING AROUND TO CRUSH PEOPLE...

The MVP this update was most definitely Cater. I was shocked to see how proactive he was. He took the lead in both Ace and Trey's dreams and we got to see him put his craftiness to some good use. Stepping up for the first years, roping the other third years into helping him, even not hesitating to kick Ace's stubborn ass... I hate to say it, but I could really see Cater's dashing big brother side coming out here 🤡 YES I AM UNFORTUNATELY PREDICTABLE I had to pause reading so many times to go, "Waaaah, Cay-kun is so cool!!" which is not a thought I typically have. I'm also such a big fan of him regretting his past actions (or rather, inaction) and finally FINALLY being able to verbalize some of his deepest and most concealed feelings to other characters. When Cater thanked Ace for what he said back when Riddle overblotted... man, it hit me right in the heart.

Sebek was also pretty bashful this update. I don’t think I’ve heard him being quite so… humbled??? His quiet voice is cute 🥰 Was not expecting Silver to speak sternly to him though. The shouting came put of nowhere??? And it’s not as though you aren’t part of the problem for spoiling him, Silver…

Those are my thoughts for this update! I'll see you in the next one. Riddle's dream, on the 7th...!!

[thedilfdiaries]

Strangers

Stripper!Javier Pena x f!reader // almost 9k

Time stands still and it's only us, what we feel started way before we ever touched... must be from a different life been here before and it just feels right

summary: you meet a sexy stripper at your bestie's bachelorette party and he tries his absolute hardest to get your number

warnings: mdni, 18+, javi is a stripper, he wears a man thong and gets pretty close to stripping it all off in public, there's cock and balls, unprotected p in v, f!oral receiving, lap dances for days, reader has breasts, a dress, and hair that can fall around her face and is internally conflicted about this man and his leopard thong, javi has a pov in this too

notes: i really don't remember what sparked this but here we are... it's been like a month or more of me working on this. I thought I was done and then I heard a single song and it pushed me to write even more. This was supposed to be just a smutty fic and then got some depth and I was like wtf. Anyway on to the thank yous, thank you to the 5000 people I have screamed to about this, and a massive thank you to @thundermartini for listening to me go on and on about this guy for a long time and then reading it for me love you baby! A special mention to @gothcsz for the thong idea, @evolnoomym, @milla-frenchy and @sawymredfox for being so supportive of this idea to @joelslegalwhre for reading and @syd-djarin for the moodboard

masterlist

The music thumped so loudly it seemed to shake the floor, the kind of bass-heavy track that rumbled through your chest. Your best friend’s bachelorette party was in full swing, and the rented penthouse buzzed with laughter, shrieks, and a significant amount of tequila-fueled chaos. The party planners had spared no expense, from the towering stacks of champagne glasses to the flashy male entertainment just about to take the stage.

And then, he walked in.

You couldn’t ignore the way the room seemed to shift when he entered. The man—Javier, as the MC introduced him—had an undeniable presence. Dressed in a tight police officer uniform complete with aviators, a fake badge, hat, and handcuffs, he adjusted his badge with a grin that screamed trouble. His dark eyes surveyed the room with the kind of confidence that could only come from knowing he was the main event. 

Every woman in the room, including you, took notice.

While your friends ogled and whispered not-so-subtle comments, you tried—and failed—to keep your eyes elsewhere. He was gorgeous, sure, but this wasn’t your scene. Loud parties weren’t really your thing. 

The first performance was for the bride-to-be, of course. When the lights dimmed and the music shifted to something playfully seductive, the room erupted into cheers and Javier made his way to the bachelorette. 

“Ladies,” he announced, his voice smooth and teasing as he pulled a pair of fake handcuffs from his belt. “I hear there's a bride-to-be here who’s guilty of breaking hearts. I’m afraid I’ll have to take her in.”

Your best friend shrieked with laughter as he arrested her, securing one cuff around her wrist and helping her onto a nearby chair. The room buzzed with excitement as he began to dance, every move deliberate and designed to tease. 

You watched the scene unfold, biting your lip to stifle your laughter. He was undeniably good at what he did. But you couldn’t focus on the theatrics as much as everyone else seemed to. Your attention had zeroed in on him—his broad shoulders, the way his shirt clung to his chest, and the effortless way he commanded every inch of the massive penthouse, the man was sex on legs. As he began to set up for the big finale, you couldn’t tear your eyes away.

Javier danced his way onto the makeshift stage in front of your bestie, spinning his hat off and tossing it with a flourish into the crowd. Almost causing a fight between a few of the women to break out.

His aviators followed, revealing deep, smoldering eyes that locked with yours for a moment too long. He’s just playing to the crowd, he has to look at all the women right?

The bassline shifted to a slower, dirtier rhythm, and he rolled his shoulders back, his body falling into perfect sync with the beat.

Then came the shirt.

He gripped the edges, peeling it off slowly, revealing inch by inch of sun-kissed skin stretched over a perfectly sculpted chest and arms. When he finally tossed the shirt aside, the room erupted in cheers and whistles.

And yet, all you could do was stare and clench your thighs together. Why was this affecting you so much? It’s just a party. It’s just a guy. Get a grip. But no amount of inner scolding could make you look away. Something about this man pulled you in.

His chest glistened under the soft glow of the light, each bead of sweat tracing a slow, tantalizing path over the chiseled contours of his body. Your breath hitched, captivated by the sheer allure of him—the way every ridge of muscle stood out, accentuated as his hand drifted slowly down his torso. He moved with deliberate ease, fully aware of the spell he was weaving, and the teasing smirk playing at the corner of his lips made it clear that he was savoring every second of all the attention he was receiving.

But it was when his fingers moved to rip off his belt that the real show began.

The collective energy in the room surged as Javier teasingly ran his hands down his sides, and in one swift, practiced motion, he reached for his waistband and yanked.

The rip-away pants came apart with a sharp, satisfying sound, sending the crowd into a frenzy. The noise, a mix of gasps, shrieks, and raucous laughter, echoed through the penthouse. But none of that registered as you stared at what had been revealed.

Javier stood unabashed and grinning in a leopard-print thong that left very little to the imagination. Every inch of his sculpted body was on display—toned legs, powerful thighs, and that tiny scrap of fabric barely holding itself together. The cut of the thong framed his hips perfectly, the deep lines of his V cutting down, drawing your eyes exactly where he wanted them to go. The thin fabric of the thong clung tightly to him, leaving the unmistakable outline of his cock on display, straining the limits of the material. Javier seemed completely unbothered by how much was on show.

Your face burned as your gaze dipped lower, catching a glimpse of something even more scandalous. The tiny scrap of leopard print couldn’t quite contain him—on the sides, the curve of his balls was slipping free. You swallowed hard, your pulse fluttering as he shifted his weight, the motion only emphasizing how precariously the thong was holding itself together.

The room exploded excitedly, women fanning themselves, throwing bills, and shouting over one another. But you could barely breathe.

And then, just when you thought the spectacle couldn’t get any more outrageous, Javier turned around with a deliberate, teasing spin, giving the room an uninterrupted view of his backside.

The thong was practically nonexistent, the thin fabric disappearing completely between the firm, sculpted curves of his ass. His glistening, muscular cheeks were on full display, round and perfectly defined, drawing another deafening eruption of cheers and whistles from the crowd.

Javier struck a pose, bracing his hands on his hips as he arched his back slightly, flexing for effect. He glanced over his shoulder with a devilish grin, clearly relishing in the chaos he was causing. The lights caught the sheen of sweat on his skin, highlighting every curve and line of muscle, leaving no question as to just how perfect he was from every single angle.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away. Your breath hitched and your pulse pounded so loudly in your ears it almost drowned out the music. Heat flushed through your body as your gaze lingered shamelessly on his backside, every inch of him a deliberate invitation.

After what felt like a torturous eternity, Javier turned back toward the crowd, a low chuckle rumbling from his chest as he surveyed everyone's reactions.

He strutted forward, running his hands up his torso and tossing a playful wink to the bride-to-be, who was practically falling out of her chair from laughter and shock. But his gaze kept flicking to you.

Your cheeks burned as he moved closer, spinning on his heel to give the audience another view. His movements were fluid and sensual, every roll of his hips and flex of his body perfectly in time with the music. When he leaned down to grab the bride’s hands to feel up his torso, his back arched in a way that emphasized the curve of his ass, and you bit your lip without thinking.

This man was a problem.

When he finally ended the dance with a flourish—dropping to his knees in front of the bride-to-be before flawlessly almost jumping back up to a standing position—the applause was deafening.

Javier laughed, his chest rising and falling as he caught his breath. He took a playful bow, blowing a kiss to the bride-to-be before gathering his discarded pants and shirt. His bare torso glistened under the soft glow of the party lights, and the lingering smirk on his lips suggested he knew he had the entire room wrapped around his finger.

The girls were still cheering and clapping, their voices a mix of exhilaration and tipsy enthusiasm. But while the others were caught up in the wild energy of the moment, you felt a strange tightness in your chest, like the room had closed in around you.

You weren’t used to reacting this way to someone, and it unnerved you. The heat creeping up your neck was impossible to ignore, and no amount of pretending to be distracted by your drink could hide the fact that your eyes kept darting back to him.

And he noticed—like a magnet—his eyes locked onto yours.

Your stomach flipped.

For a split second, everything else faded; the noise, the laughter, even your own internal protests to look away. It was just him, standing there, looking at you with that maddening confidence.

Then he moved.

Javier began to dance again, hips rolling in slow, hypnotic circles to the bass-heavy beat. The fabric of the thong strained with every motion, but he didn’t shy away. If anything, he seemed to lean into it—one hand trailing down his torso to brush along the waistband, teasing as if he might remove it completely.

Your pulse fluttered wildly as he worked the crowd, making his way closer, dancing toward you.

Your breath caught as you tried to focus on literally anything else—your drink, the flickering candles on the table, the way your best friend was still howling with laughter. But there was no escaping the fact that Javier was now standing right in front of you, every inch of him radiating heat and presence.

“Having fun?” he asked.

You blinked up at him, your mouth suddenly dry. “Uh… yeah. It’s been… something.” Your voice wavered, betraying how flustered you felt. Something? Really? That was the best you could come up with? You scrambled for words, your brain short-circuiting. “I mean—great. It’s been great.”

Smooth.

His smirk widened. “Just great?” He leaned in slightly, the scent of his cologne—something dark and woodsy—mingling with the musky sheen of sweat on his skin. “Because you’ve been staring like you’re enjoying yourself a little more than tha?t.”

You nearly choked on your drink. “I—I wasn’t—”

“Relax,” he teased, his grin softening into something warmer, more inviting. “I’m just messing with you. Now come on, sweetheart,” he encouraged. “Let me make your night.”

“I’m good, thanks,” you replied, though your cheeks burned with the effort of maintaining composure. You crossed your arms to emphasize your refusal, but Javier didn’t look the least bit discouraged.

“Oh, I don’t think you’re good. Not yet, anyway.” He leaned closer, his voice just for you now. “But I’m more than happy to change that.”

Despite your best efforts, the laughter bubbling up from your chest betrayed you. He grinned, clearly enjoying your reaction. But when you refused—again—he didn’t press. Instead, he winked, gave an exaggerated shrug, and moved on to another guest, leaving you strangely disappointed.

————

Later, after the performances ended and the room was quieter, you found yourself sitting on a chair in the back corner of the room scrolling idly on your phone, trying to drown out your lingering thoughts about him. A few drinks had loosened your resolve. You noticed a stack of glossy business cards on the table where he had tossed his hat earlier. Curiosity got the better of you, and you picked one up.

The card was sleek, black with gold lettering. At the top, in bold, elegant lettering, it read:

Elite Heat’s Javier Peña

To the left, there was a neatly organized list; a phone number, a Facebook link, which you immediately ignored, and a website address. But it was the bottom that made your breath hitch.

On top of a gold banner, the words Elite Heat: “The Best Sex Therapy” were printed in bold, confident lettering. 

To the right was a photo of Javier himself.

It wasn’t a professional headshot - far from it. It was one of those casual yet devastatingly attractive pictures that looked effortless but likely required perfect lighting and timing. He wore a grey long-sleeve shirt that framed his broad chest perfectly, the top buttons undone just enough to tease without giving away too much. His hand, however, made it impossible not to stare—casually slipping beneath the fabric, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of his defined abs. The way the light hit his skin added a subtle sheen, making the whole image feel like a deliberate invitation.

For a moment, you just stared at the card. The combination of professional polish and brazen confidence made your stomach twist in a way that annoyed you.

“The best sex therapy, huh?” you muttered to yourself, raising an eyebrow at the audacity.

Curiosity got the better of you. You grabbed your phone and typed “Javier Peña” into Instagram. After scrolling through a few accounts that clearly weren’t him, you found the right one.

The profile itself was… an experience.

Picture after picture of Javier dominated the feed—some in his infamous uniform, others in casual attire, and far too many shirtless to be accidental. Every post was a masterclass in confident allure, and his captions were just as bold.

The comments were what really got to you, though. Endless lines of hearts, fire emojis, and thirsty declarations filled each post.

“Find something you like?”

His voice startled you so much that you almost dropped your phone. You looked up to see Javier standing in front of you, his shirt slung casually over his shoulder and he was wearing his uniform pants again. How long had he been there?

“I was just…” You trailed off, trying to think of a plausible excuse for stalking him online. His smirk told you he wasn’t buying it.

“Don’t worry,” he said, leaning in closer than necessary. “You can follow me. Might even follow you back.”

“I’m not interested,” you replied, though the conviction in your voice wavered as he placed a hand on the back of your chair, caging you in.

“You sure about that?” he asked, his voice dropping just enough to send a shiver down your spine. Your heart raced as he leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear. “I’ll make you a deal sweetheart, one dance. If you hate it, I’ll leave you alone. But if you like it… well, you can give me your number when it’s over.”

You swallowed hard, your resolve crumbling faster than you wanted to admit. After all, what was the harm in one dance?

Javier’s confidence was infuriatingly contagious, and your curiosity was louder than the protests in your head. You nodded if only to prove to yourself that he wouldn’t get under your skin. A small, victorious smile curved his lips as he straightened, offering his hand. “Good choice.”

He didn’t give you much time to second-guess as he guided you to the makeshift dance floor in the middle of the penthouse. Some of your friends hooted and hollered, clearly thrilled to see you in the spotlight. You, however, were hyper-aware of every step as Javier led you to a chair he had conveniently placed in the center of the room.

“Sit,” he commanded, his voice smooth but firm. His dark eyes gleamed with mischief as he waited for you to comply. Against your better judgment, you did.

The music shifted to something slower and sultrier. Javier grabbed his shirt from his shoulder, tossing it onto the floor. The movement was casual, but there was nothing casual about the way his toned chest and large arms drew every pair of eyes in the room. Including yours.

He stalked closer, and suddenly it felt like the room had disappeared. Just you, the chair, and the dangerously attractive man who seemed to thrive on the tension hanging in the air.

“Relax,” he murmured as he noticed the way your hands gripped the edge of the chair. “I don’t bite.” He winked. “Not unless you ask nicely.”

Before you could reply, he began to move.

It wasn’t the kind of dance you expected. Yes, it was provocative—every roll of his hips and glide of his body was designed to tease—but there was something more deliberate about it. He kept his gaze locked on yours, watching every flicker of emotion on your face. His hands didn’t touch you—not yet. Instead, they skimmed close enough to make you ache for the contact, only for him to pull away at the last moment.

He straddled the chair, his thighs framing yours as he dipped low, his chest hovering just inches from your face. His scent filled your senses, and your pulse quickened as he leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “You’re even more beautiful up close,” he whispered.

Your breath hitched, and you hated how easily he could see the effect he had on you.

Javier straightened, his hands gripping the chair on either side of you as he moved his hips in a way that felt borderline illegal. He was close enough for you to feel the heat radiating off him, but he still didn’t touch. The lack of contact was maddening, and the glint in his eye told you he knew exactly what he was doing.

The song ended too quickly, and he stepped back, leaving you feeling both relieved and oddly bereft. Your friends erupted into cheers and applause, but you barely noticed. Your eyes were fixed on Javier as he extended a hand, helping you out of the chair.

“Enjoy yourself?” he asked.

You swallowed hard, refusing to let him see how much he’d gotten to you. “It was… okay.”

He laughed—a deep, rich sound that sent another shiver through you. “Just okay, huh? I’ll have to work on that.”

Before you could respond, he winked and disappeared back into the crowd.

——

An hour later, the party was winding down. The penthouse was quieter, and most of your friends had migrated to the couches or left altogether. You were nursing your last drink of the night when Javier appeared again, a shot glass in each hand.

“For you,” he said, offering one with an easy smile.

You eyed it suspiciously. “You didn’t put anything in this, did you?”

He looked genuinely offended, clutching his chest dramatically. “I’m hurt you’d even ask.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, fine,” he admitted, leaning in closer. “I did put something in it.”

You froze, and he smirked, finishing his sentence with a devilish twinkle in his eye. “It’s called tequila.”

Your laugh surprised even you. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously charming,” he corrected, clinking his glass against yours. “Now drink up.”

Against your better judgment, you downed the shot, the burn of the tequila grounding you for a moment.

“Good girl,” he said. “Now, how about that number?”

Javier’s smile didn’t waver as he set his empty shot glass on the table. “Still hesitant, huh?” he asked, watching you with an intensity that made your pulse quicken.

You shrugged, trying to appear unaffected. “I don’t make it a habit to give my number to strangers, especially ones who…” You gestured vaguely to his naked chest and the police hat perched crookedly on his head. “...do what you do.”

“Fair enough,” he said, the teasing edge in his voice softening. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, holding it out to you. “At least let me follow you on Instagram..”

You stared at the phone, then at him. The sincerity in his tone threw you off balance, and the way his dark eyes searched yours made it hard to hold onto your skepticism. Against your better judgment—again—you took the phone and followed your account.

“Here,” you said, handing it back after following him.

Javier glanced at the screen, a satisfied smile tugging at his lips. “I’ll make it worth your while,” he promised, slipping his phone into his pocket. “Sweet dreams, sweetheart.”

And just like that, he was gone, disappearing into the night with the same confidence that had drawn every eye in the room earlier.

Javi 

Javier leaned against the balcony railing outside the penthouse lighting a cigarette, the cool night air doing little to temper the heat still coursing through him. The party was still going inside, but his thoughts had drifted elsewhere—to you. He let out a low chuckle, shaking his head at himself. He’d performed for hundreds of women, charmed his way through countless parties, but tonight felt… different.  

You’d thrown him off balance in a way he wasn’t used to.  

Sure, you’d laughed at his jokes and taken the shot he offered, but there was something in your eyes—an intoxicating mix of curiosity and resistance—that had him hooked. He wasn’t sure what it was about you. Maybe it was the way you tried to keep your guard up even as he chipped away at it. Maybe it was the way you watched him when you thought he wasn’t looking, like you couldn’t quite help yourself.  

Or maybe it was the way he couldn’t stop replaying that moment on the dance floor in his head. The way your breath hitched when he leaned in. The way your lips parted, as though you were holding back words—or something else entirely.  

The music from the party shifted the song echoing in the distance. Javier’s mind wandered as the melody pulled him into his own thoughts. It wasn’t just lust that gnawed at him—though, hell, that was definitely part of it. No, this was something deeper, something that felt unsettlingly like longing.  

He ran a hand through his hair, the grin he’d worn all night slipping away. He’d never been one for complications, especially when it came to women. His job was to entertain, to tease, to flirt—but he’d never felt this kind of pull before. It was like a spark had ignited when he locked eyes with you, and now it wouldn’t go out.  

For the first time in a long while, Javier wasn’t sure if he was in control.  

The lyrics to the song playing in the penthouse hit him square in the chest.  

Must be from a different life, been here before, and it just feels right. No, this ain't the first time for you and I, we ain't strangers.

The words struck a chord, leaving him standing there, staring out at the city lights, wondering how a single dance, a single moment, could unravel him so completely.  

It's like it's driving me closer to you, every step back pulls me right back to you…

Maybe you wouldn’t give him your number. Maybe this would end here, tonight, like all the other nights before. But as he grabbed his phone from his pocket and opened Instagram, his thumb hovering over your profile, he couldn’t help but think—this didn’t feel like an ending.  

It felt like the beginning of something he wasn’t ready to let go of.  

———

Back in your hotel room, you flopped onto the plush bed with a groan. The events of the evening replayed in your mind, Javier’s smirk and the heat of his gaze lingering longer than you cared to admit.

“This is ridiculous,” you muttered to yourself, reaching for your phone. A quick check of Instagram confirmed what you suspected—he’d already followed and sent you a message.

Javier: See? Now we’re not strangers anymore.

You rolled your eyes, though a small smile tugged at your lips. His confidence was irritatingly endearing.

You: I don’t think Instagram follows count as a formal introduction.

His reply was almost instant.

Javier: What would count? Because I’m pretty sure that dance was more personal than most first dates.

You bit your lip, your fingers hovering over the keyboard. He wasn’t wrong, but you weren’t about to admit that.

You: Is this your usual routine? Flirt with everyone at the party, then slide into DMs?

Javier: Nope. Just you.

You stared at the screen, your stomach doing an annoying little flip at his words.

You: Why me?

The typing indicator blinked for a moment before his reply came through.

Javier: Because you didn’t throw yourself at me like everyone else. And because you’re cute when you’re pretending not to be interested.

Your cheeks burned as you read the message, but you couldn’t help smiling.

You: I’m not pretending.

Javier: So you are interested?

You: I didn’t say that.

Javier: But you didn’t deny it, either.

You sighed, realizing this conversation wasn’t going to end anytime soon.

You: Don’t you have better things to do than bother me?

Javier: Nope. Not tonight.

Before you could come up with a snarky reply, another message popped up.

Javier: You could come over, you know. Save us both the trouble of texting all night.

Your heart raced at the suggestion, and you hesitated, typing and deleting a dozen responses before settling on one.

You: Not happening.

Javier: Why not?

You: Because it’s late, and I’m not that kind of girl.

Javier: What kind of girl is that?

You: The kind that sneaks into a stranger’s room after one tequila shot and a few texts.

Javier: I’m not exactly a stranger anymore.

You stared at his message, your lips twitching at the boldness. Before you could type out another response, your phone buzzed with a notification. It was a photo. From Javier.

You hesitated, your thumb hovering over the image preview before finally opening it. The picture was simple yet devastatingly effective: Javier, shirtless, sprawled on a hotel bed, the faint light casting shadows that only emphasized his toned chest. His dark eyes smoldered into the camera, and his messy hair added to the whole “devil-may-care” aesthetic he wore so well.

Javier: Feeling really lonely over here. Could use some company.

Heat pooled low in your belly and you groaned, tossing your phone onto the bed as if distance could break the spell he seemed to have on you. But of course, curiosity won out, and you grabbed it again, typing out a response before you could second-guess yourself.

You: Flattery and thirst traps won’t work on me.

Javier: Who said it was flattery? Just being honest.

You: Still not happening.

Javier: Okay, how about a compromise?

You: What kind of compromise?

Javier: Drinks. Just the two of us. Down at the hotel bar. Public place, no pressure.

You bit your lip, weighing your options. Saying yes felt like walking into a trap, but a part of you was curious—and maybe, just maybe, a little tempted. The idea of sitting across from him, away from the crowd, felt… different. Safer. Almost.

You: Fine. One drink.

Javier: I’ll take it. Meet you there in ten?

You: Fifteen. I need to change.

Javier: You don’t have to change for me, sweetheart. You already look perfect.

You rolled your eyes, but a small smile tugged at your lips as you tossed your phone onto the bed and rifled through your suitcase. Fifteen minutes later, you stepped into the elevator, your heart pounding with anticipation and nerves as you descended to the hotel bar.

The bar was dimly lit, with warm amber hues reflecting off the polished surfaces. The low hum of conversation mingled with the clinking of glasses, creating an atmosphere both intimate and unassuming. You spotted Javier immediately.  

He sat at a corner table, leaning back in his chair. He’d changed into a simple black button-down that clung to his frame in a way that was almost unfair. His gaze locked onto you the moment you entered.  

“Right on time,” he said, standing as you reached the table. He pulled out a chair for you, a small but unexpected gesture that caught you off guard.  

“Don’t get used to it,” you replied, settling into the seat.  

“Noted.” His smile widened as he slid into the chair opposite you.  

The server appeared almost instantly, and Javier gestured for you to order first. You requested a simple cocktail, while he opted for whiskey on the rocks. As the server walked away, his attention returned to you and it wasn’t long before they returned with them.

“So,” he began, leaning forward slightly. “What convinced you to come down here?”  

You raised an eyebrow, feigning nonchalance. “Curiosity, I guess. Wanted to see if you were as charming one-on-one as you are with a crowd.”  

“And?” 

You took a deliberate sip of your drink before answering. “Jury’s still out.”  

He chuckled, “I’m not worried. I’m good under pressure.”  

The banter came easily, the conversation flowing in a way that surprised you. He was quick-witted, teasing without being overbearing, and as much as you hated to admit it, he was easy to talk to, it felt like knew him without knowing him. The more you spoke, the more you caught glimpses of the man behind the cocky facade—sharp, observant, and surprisingly thoughtful.  

Still, you made him work for it.  

Whenever his compliments grew too bold, you deflected with a teasing remark. When he leaned in a little too close, you leaned back, though you couldn’t ignore the thrill that ran through you each time he tested your resolve.  

“I like this game you’re playing,” he said after a while, his whiskey glass nearly empty.  

“What game?” you asked innocently.  

“The one where you pretend you’re not interested.” His gaze was unwavering, the heat in his eyes unmistakable.  

“I’m not pretending,” you replied, though the words sounded less convincing than you’d hoped.  

He tilted his head, a small, knowing smile tugging at his lips. “No? Then why are you still here?”  

You opened your mouth to respond, but the truth caught in your throat. Why were you still here?  

Before you could come up with an excuse, he reached across the table, his fingers brushing yours. The touch was light, almost hesitant, but it sent a jolt of electricity up your arm.  

“Listen,” he said, his voice softer now, the teasing edge gone. “If this isn’t what you want, just say the word, and I’ll back off. No hard feelings.”  

For the first time that night, you saw something unguarded in his expression—genuine sincerity that made your heart stutter.  You hesitated, your walls cracking under the weight of his words. Maybe it was the way he looked at you, or the way his thumb brushed against your knuckles, but something in you shifted.  

“Okay,” you said quietly.  

His brow lifted. “Okay, what?”  

“Okay… you’re not completely unbearable.”  

He laughed, the sound genuine and warm. “High praise.”  

“You know, I didn’t say I wasn’t interested,” you admitted finally, your voice quieter than you intended. “I just don’t know if this is a good idea.”

His smirk softened into something gentler, his fingers still lightly brushing yours on the table. “Not everything has to be a good idea to be worth it, sweetheart,” he said.

You couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Is that your life philosophy, or just your way of convincing women to give you their number?”

“Both,” he said with a shrug, his grin returning. “And it’s worked out pretty well so far.”

You rolled your eyes, but the tension between you eased slightly. The conversation shifted after that, the teasing banter giving way to something more genuine. He asked about your life, your work, your dreams—and for every question he asked, he shared something about himself, too. 

“I wasn’t always this guy,” he admitted at one point, swirling the remnants of his whiskey in his glass. “I used to be a cop. A real one. Back in Colombia.”

You blinked, surprised. “A cop? Really?”

He nodded. “Yeah. DEA, actually.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Seriously? What made you leave?”

His expression darkened briefly, a shadow crossing his features. “Let’s just say… the job took its toll. And I realized I wanted something different. Something lighter.” He glanced at you then, a hint of humor returning to his voice. “Though I’m not sure stripping is what my father had in mind when I told him I was switching careers.”

The two of you laughed, and the conversation continued to flow. By the time your drinks were empty, you realized you were leaning forward, hanging onto his every word.

Javier glanced at the time on his phone and then back at you. “I hate to say it, but the bar’s closing soon.”

You nodded, a strange mix of disappointment and relief settling over you. “Guess I should head back to my room.”

“Yeah.” He hesitated, as if weighing his next words carefully. “Can I walk you to your door?”

Your pulse quickened at the question, but you nodded. “Okay.”

The two of you rode the elevator in silence, the charged tension between you filling the small space. When you reached your floor, he stepped out with you, his presence at your side was both comforting and exhilarating.

When you finally stopped outside your door, you turned to face him, your heart pounding in your chest. “Well… this is me.”

“Home sweet hotel,” he said, his tone light but his gaze intense.

You fiddled with your key card, unsure of what to say. He didn’t push, didn’t try to move closer. Instead, he simply smiled.

“I had a good time tonight,” he said, his voice low and sincere. “Thank you for giving me a chance.”

You swallowed hard, his words sending a warmth through you that had nothing to do with the tequila. “Me too.”

For a moment, neither of you moved. The air between you was thick with unspoken possibilities, each one more tempting than the last. Then, before you could talk yourself out of it, you leaned in and kissed him.

It was soft, hesitant at first—a test to see if this was really what you wanted. But the moment his lips moved against yours, everything else fell away. His hand cupped your cheek, his touch warm and steady as he deepened the kiss. 

When you finally pulled back, breathless, he rested his forehead against yours, his eyes searching yours for any sign of regret. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

“Guess you’ll have to stick around to find out,” you replied.

His smile was slow, almost lazy. “Careful, sweetheart. I just might take you up on that.” 

As Javier lingered, you found yourself hesitating. The way he kissed you had ignited something within you—something raw.

You opened your door but didn’t step inside, glancing back at him. "Well, you coming?”

He arched a brow, that teasing smirk returning. “You sure?”

You laughed softly. “I think I’ll take my chances.”

Javier followed you inside. The dim light of the room cast shadows across his face, softening the sharp lines of his features. He shut the door behind him, leaning against it for a moment as he studied you.

“So,” he drawled, his tone playful but low. “What exactly did you have in mind?”

You swallowed, heat rising to your cheeks. “I think you know Javier.”

He chuckled, shaking his head as he shrugged off his jacket, draping it over the back of a chair. “You’re something else, you know that?”

Before you could respond, he stepped closer, his fingers lightly grabbing your wrist. He guided you to sit on the edge of the bed and his voice dropped an octave. “If we’re doing this, I’m in control, ¿entiendes?”

You nodded, and it must have been obvious how nervous you were.

“Relax,” he murmured, his hands brushing your knees as he stepped between them. “This is supposed to be fun.”

You exhaled a shaky breath, your body responding to him in ways you couldn’t control. He leaned closer, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. “Do me a favor,” he whispered. “Touch yourself. Just a little.”

Your eyes widened, your pulse skyrocketing. “What?”

“You heard me,” he said. “I want to watch you.”

When you hesitated, his hand trailed up your thigh, his touch light but maddening. “Go on beautiful,” he urged. “Show me how you make yourself feel good.”

Your breath hitched, heat rushing to your cheeks and pooling low in your belly. Javier leaned back slightly, giving you space but never breaking eye contact. His gaze was dark, commanding, and utterly unapologetic. He wanted this. Wanted you vulnerable, open, and completely at his mercy. 

You hesitated, your heart pounding like a drum, but the way his fingers skimmed over your thigh made it impossible to think straight. “Don’t be shy,” he murmured, his voice coaxing yet dripping with authority. “I want to see every bit of you, mi amor.”

Your hand trembled as it moved to the hem of your dress. Slowly, you slid it higher, exposing more of your thighs to his burning gaze. He walked back and pulled up a chair, one arm draped lazily over the armrest, but his eyes never wavered from you. The way he looked at you—as if you were the only thing that mattered in the world—was both thrilling and terrifying.

“Good girl,” he said, his voice low and gravelly. The praise sent a shiver through your body. You could feel your arousal building, the tension crackling between you like a live wire.  

Your breath shuddered as your fingers brushed the fabric of your panties, the dampness betraying just how much his presence, his words, his command, had affected you. You glanced at him, unsure, but his gaze was steady, his jaw tight, his dark eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made your pulse race. 

Slowly, you slipped your hand beneath the fabric, the first tentative touch drawing a quiet gasp from your lips. Javier's expression darkened with hunger, his composure unraveling ever so slightly as he leaned forward. 

“That’s it,” he whispered. “Let me see how beautiful you are when you can’t hold back.”

Your fingers began to move in slow circles, your body responding to your touch almost instinctively. The heat between your thighs grew, and your hips shifted slightly, seeking more pressure. The room seemed to shrink, the air heavy with the sound of your breathing and the faint rustle of your movements. 

Javier's eyes never left you. His own restraint was evident in the way his fists clenched, the way his chest rose and fell a little too fast. “I want to hear you. Don’t hold back from me.”

You whimpered, your movements becoming more confident, more insistent as you lost yourself in the moment. Every sound you made, every twitch of your body, seemed to light a fire in him. His control was slipping, and it was intoxicating to know that you were the one unraveling him. 

“God, you’re perfect,” he muttered, his voice thick with desire. “Keep going, just like that.”

Javier’s gaze burned into you, the tension in his jaw betraying how tightly he was holding himself back. But then, he shifted, his hands moving to undo the buttons of his shirt, one by one, exposing the golden skin of his chest. His movements were slow, deliberate, as if daring you to keep watching even as your own hand continued its rhythm. 

“Don’t stop,” he murmured, his voice dark and commanding, the sound vibrating through you. His shirt slid off his shoulders, and he let it fall to the floor. Then, his hands moved to his belt, the metallic clink making your breath hitch. He undid it in a single, fluid motion, the sound of the zipper following shortly after. 

Your fingers faltered for a moment, your breath catching as your focus shifted entirely to him. He stood before you, stripped of all pretense, his movements deliberate and sure. When he pushed his pants and boxers down in one smooth motion, your gaze locked onto him, and your thoughts scattered.

He was breathtaking. The sharp angles of his hips, the sculpted planes of his abdomen, the sheer strength of his frame—it was as if he had been carved just for you. Heat coiled low in your belly, a visceral reaction to the undeniable evidence of his desire for you.

Your eyes traveled over him, lingering shamelessly, drinking in every inch of him. His dark eyes burned into yours, filled with a heat that left you both vulnerable and electrified.

You swallowed hard, suddenly feeling exposed under his gaze despite still being partially clothed. The way he looked at you—like you were the only thing he could see—made your pulse race and your chest tighten with need.

The air between you crackled with an unspoken hunger, and you couldn’t look away, couldn’t hide how deeply he affected you.

His hand wrapped around his shaft, a groan slipping from his lips as he began to stroke slowly, matching the rhythm you’d set for yourself. “Look at me,” he said. “Don’t hide from me, nena.”

The sight of him, so confident, so completely at ease with his own pleasure, made your own need intensify. Your movements quickened, your body arching slightly as the tension in your core built. His gaze flickered over you, drinking in every shiver, every gasp, every movement of your hand.

“Dios mío,” he murmured, his strokes becoming faster as he watched you. “You’re so beautiful like this. I could watch you forever.” 

Javier’s hand stilled suddenly, and you watched as he got up, his body exuding confidence and unrelenting command. He stepped closer, towering over you where you sat, his dark eyes still heavy with desire. He leaned down, his fingers brushing a stray lock of hair from your face, his voice a seductive rasp as he said, “Come here.”

You hesitated, your heart racing, unsure of what he was asking. But he took your hand, pulling you gently to your feet, and his lips brushed your ear. “I want you to dance for me. Just for me.”

“I—I don’t know if I can,” you stammered, your cheeks burning. The idea made your pulse race, the vulnerability and intimacy of it all was terrifying and exhilarating all at once.

His hands moved to your waist, steadying you. “Yes, you can, you’re perfect.”

His words wrapped around you, melting your hesitation. Slowly, you began to sway, your movements tentative at first, but his gaze never wavered, filled with encouragement and raw need. 

Your fingers found the hem of your dress, and you began to lift it, inch by inch, exposing your skin. His eyes tracked every motion, his breaths deep and heavy, fueling your confidence. The dress fell to the floor, leaving you in your underwear. You turned away from him, your fingers trembling as you unclasped your bra, letting it slide off your shoulders before finally slipping out of your panties. 

“Fuck, you are so beautfiul.”

You felt the power in his words, the way they stoked your courage and your desire. With each slow sway of your hips, you inched closer to him, the magnetic pull between you was impossible to resist. His heated gaze anchored you, igniting a fire that coursed through your veins.

You ran your hands down your body, over your curves, letting him watch as you closed the distance. His chest heaved as you straddled him and the tip of his cock brushed against your core, you froze, overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. 

“You’re doing so good,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your collarbone. “Just like that. Take your time, baby. Feel every second of it.

“Javi,” you whispered, your voice shaky. “I don’t know if I—”

“Yes, you do,” he interrupted, his hands sliding up your thighs to rest on your hips. His touch was firm, guiding but never forcing. “You’ve got this, baby. Dance for me—on me. Take your time.”

The raw hunger in his voice undid you. He guided your movements as you began to grind against him, slow and sensual. Your body aligned with his as you slid against him, teasing him with every slow grind. His head fell back against the chair, his jaw clenched as he groaned your name. 

“Good girl,” he murmured, his hands tightening their grip, encouraging your movements. “Just like that. Feel me, nena. Let me feel all of you.”

Slowly, deliberately, you adjusted, letting your slick pussy tease the length of him. The anticipation was maddening, and you could feel him trembling beneath you, his restraint barely holding. Then, with a deep breath, you angled yourself just right and began to lower yourself onto his length.

The sensation stole your breath as you took him inch by inch, your body adjusting to his size. His growl of pleasure rumbled through you, his hands guiding you down until you were completely seated. The stretch, the fullness—it was overwhelming and it felt so good.

“Now move, baby,” he urged, his voice strained. “Show me how good you can make us feel.”

You began to roll your hips, your movements slow and deliberate as you rode him, your bodies perfectly in sync. The connection between you felt electric, every thrust and grind drawing you closer together. His hands explored your body, his lips tracing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your neck and collarbone as you moved, his murmured praises driving you to the brink.

Each undulation of your hips sent a new wave of pleasure crashing through you, and as you rode him, the world melted away, leaving only the two of you tangled in passion and ecstasy.

The sensation made you both gasp, his hands tightening on your hips as you began to move. “That’s it,” he groaned. “Ride me. Just like that.” 

The tension coiled tighter with every roll of your hips, the friction building to a fever pitch as Javier groaned your name like a prayer. His hands gripped your waist firmly, guiding your movements, his thumbs pressing bruising circles into your skin as if to anchor himself. The entire time his gaze stayed locked on yours, dark and intense, as if he wanted to memorize the way you looked in this moment—completely undone above him.

“That’s it, baby,” he rasped. “You feel so damn good.”

The words lit you up, your pace quickening as you chased the edge, that blinding release that teased just out of reach. Your breaths mingled with his, sharp and ragged, the room heavy with the sound of skin meeting skin and the delicious symphony of your pleasure.

“Javi,” you gasped.

“I know, baby,” he murmured, his hands sliding up your back to cradle your face. “Let go. I’ve got you.”

Something in his voice broke you, the sincerity laced with desire, the unshakable promise that he wouldn’t let you fall. Your body tensed, your movements stuttering as the first shockwaves of pleasure crashed through you, and you cried out his name as you shattered around him.

Javier didn’t falter. He held you steady, his grip firm as he ground his hips up to meet yours, pulling you through the aftershocks until you were trembling in his arms. The intensity of it left you breathless, and you slumped forward, resting your forehead against his as you tried to gather yourself.

“You okay?” he asked softly, his voice still thick with need, though his concern for you was evident.

You nodded, chest heaving as you caught your breath. “Yeah,” you whispered. 

“Your turn to relax. I’m not done with you yet.”

Before you could respond, he scooped you up effortlessly, cradling you against his chest as he stood. A soft squeak escaped you, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck as he carried you across the room.

“Javi, I can walk,” you protested weakly, though you made no effort to pull away.

“I know you can,” he teased, “but I like having you right where you are.”

The bed was cool against your back when he laid you down, but his body quickly chased away the chill. Javier followed you down, his weight settling between your thighs.

“Now,” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from your face as his gaze softened. “Where were we?”

Javier’s lips captured yours in a kiss, his tongue sweeping into your mouth. He kissed you like he had all the time in the world, savoring every second, and you couldn’t help but melt into him.

His lips trailed down your neck, leaving a path of heat as he paused to suck and nip at the sensitive skin. His hands explored you, tracing the curve of your waist and the swell of your hips before sliding lower. Every touch sent shivers through you, and you couldn’t hold back the soft gasps escaping your lips.

“You’re incredible,” he murmured against your skin. “Every inch of you.”

Your fingers tangled in his hair as you arched into him, your body aching for more. “Javi, please,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

He chuckled softly. “Patience, sweetheart. You just taste so good.”

Your hands gripped his shoulders, your body arching involuntarily. “Javier, I need… I need you.”

He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his dark eyes glinting with amusement. “You’re so beautiful like this. All mine.”

As his lips moved lower, he pressed kisses to the sensitive skin of your thighs, his hands spreading you gently. The anticipation made your body tremble, your legs parting instinctively as you felt him pause, his breath hot against your core.

“Perfect,” he whispered, almost to himself, before he leaned in.

The first touch of his tongue made you cry out, your fingers clutching at the sheets as he worked you with slow movements. Javier groaned softly, his grip firm on your thighs as he held you open, the sound vibrating through you and heightening the pleasure.

Your hips bucked against him, and you gasped, “Javi, please, I’m so close.”

He lifted his head slightly, his lips glistening as he smirked at you. “I love hearing you beg for me, come on let go, baby. I’ve got you.”

His tongue and suddenly his fingers moved together in perfect rhythm, lapping, sucking and moving just right. The tension in your belly coiled tighter until it snapped, pleasure crashing over you in waves that left you trembling. Javier didn’t stop until your body softened beneath his touch, his movements slowing as he kissed your thighs and worked his way back up your body.

By the time he reached your lips, you were breathless, your body buzzing with aftershocks. He kissed you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his lips.

“How was that beautiful?” he murmured, brushing his nose against yours.

“Incredible,” you whispered, your fingers tracing the strong lines of his jaw.

Javier groaned softly at your touch, his restraint visibly fraying. He kissed you harder, his body pressing into yours as his arousal became impossible to ignore. “You sure you’re ready for more?” 

You answered by rolling your hips against him, earning a sharp inhale as he gritted his teeth. “I need you, Javi. Please fuck me.”

That was all it took. He positioned himself, his gaze locked on yours as he pushed into you in one slow, steady motion. The stretch was intense, and you gasped, clinging to him as your body adjusted.

“Jesus,” he groaned, his head dropping to your shoulder. “You feel so fucking good, so damn tight.”

“Move..please,” you urged softly, your lips brushing his ear.

He obeyed, pulling back before thrusting in again, setting a rhythm that was slow but deep. Every movement drew you closer until you couldn’t tell where he ended and you began.

His hand slid between you, his thumb finding your most sensitive spot, teasing it in time with his thrusts. “You’re taking me so well.”

Your nails raked down his back, the pleasure building impossibly fast. “Javier,” you whimpered, your body tightening around him as the tension reached its breaking point.

“That’s it, baby,” he groaned, his pace quickening as he chased his own release. “Come for me, give me one more.”

His words were your undoing. You shattered around him, your cries filling the room as pleasure consumed you. Javier followed moments later, his movements faltering as he buried himself deep, a guttural groan escaping him as he found his release.

For a while, neither of you moved, the room quiet except for the sound of your ragged breaths. Eventually, Javier rolled to the side, pulling you close against his chest. He pressed a kiss to your temple, his lips soft and tender.

He chuckled, his chest rumbling beneath your cheek. “You’re gonna be the death of me, you know that?”

You laughed softly, tilting your head to meet his gaze. “You’re not so innocent yourself, Javier.”

His smirk returned. “Get some rest, baby,” he murmured, pulling the blanket over you both. “You’ll need it for round two.”

[rae-writes]

like royalty

om boys x reader

wc : 1.k

warnings : none, just lovesick boys and their lovesick mc (and cute little Luke and his cute little mc)

synopsis : instances in which you treated them so good they felt like pampered royalty

a/n : the 10k special is hereeee! tysm, once again! <33

Leaning down, resting your knees on the dirty ground, just so you could tie his shoe for him

His steel composure allows Lucifer to remain rather unbothered, but you know better. You hear the way his breath hitches, his eyes widening just a fraction at seeing you so casually drop to your knees. He's at loss for words as he watches your fingers swiftly grab his shoelaces and begin tying them back into a neat bow. Lucifer doesn’t even try to hide the faint blush coating his skin when you stand back up- instead, he takes a moment to just bask in the pride he can feel building inside of you before he chuckles and shakes his head fondly. 

“My, Mc…I do appreciate the bold gesture, but now you’ve got your knees all dirty..how shall I repay you, hm?”

†

Unlike the firstborn, Diavolo, while he does have steel composure, forgets the definition of it as soon as you’re telling him to wait a second before crouching down beside him. He’s used to being tailored to, of course, but there’s just something about seeing your knees scrubbing the dirt and your tongue poking out as you concentrate on tying his shoe that makes him melt. Once you’re finished, he’ll lift you off the ground himself and brush off your knees, blush as dark as his hair while he laughs loudly. 

“You’re always so full of surprises! That did affect me quite badly, I must say…though allow me to do the same for you next time.” 

†

The sound (see: squawk) that escapes Mephisto is completely undignified. He’s absolutely embarrassed, especially at the tingling sensation he feels on his hand where you’d lightly smacked it when he went to tie his shoe himself before dropping to your knees to do it instead. The gravel beneath you crunches as you shift to get up, making his hand dart to help and pull you close to him; he’s regained his composure now, but his words are still low and flustered, even as he gives you a smirk. 

“Well, aren't you just sweet. Nobody’s ever gone through such lengths to simply tie my shoe, but you’ll be compensated, don’t worry. Come here, Mc…”

†

Stone faced as ever, Raphael just stares down at you with an almost confused look. He goes to say something about your clothes getting dirty on the floor everyone’s been walking on, but his words die in his throat when you peer up at him with a lovesick smile. Almost in a trance, he watches you carefully loop his shoelaces and tie them tautly before standing back up; only when his hand subconsciously finds the curve of your waist does he snap back to reality and give you a small smile of his own (he prays you’ll ignore the blush spreading across his cheeks…you do. For now).

“A-ah, Mc-! I…please, allow me to wipe your knees off, they’ve gotten dirty from the flooring…you really didn’t have to, you know, I can tie my own shoe…thank you..” 

Grabbing his hand with a featherlight touch and bringing it up to your face so you could place a soft, slow kiss to his knuckles 

Mammon’s base reaction is to jolt and scold you for teasing him, but his eyes dart to how your pupils are practically in the shape of hearts as you press your lips against his skin, and suddenly the loud mouthed second born is going quiet. The tiniest of gasps escape him as you begin to pull away, hand instinctively curling around yours and bringing it to rest over his thumping heart to keep you that much closer; the lovesick chuckle he gives you makes you melt.

“What’re ya— o-oh…Mc…d’ya even know what you're doin’ to me, actin’ like that? Where are ya goin’? C’mere…come closer..want another kiss- how about on the lips this time, yeah?”

†

Satan melts right through your fingers, eyes lidding and dumb little smile crossing his face. He is a sucker for this stuff and the murmur of your name is so breathless and adoration-filled. He’ll quietly demand another kiss, carefully watching your lips press against his skin before he’s flipping your hands around and kissing the back of yours instead. He relishes in the blush on your face but quickly turns a bashful shade of pink when you comment on how pretty that lovesick expression of his was. 

“Mc…give me another one..yeah. You make my heart race, you know that? And you’re so pretty when you look at me like that..fuck. W-what—? My expression…I..I can’t help it…‘s all your fault.” 

†

The squeal that escapes Asmo nearly leaves you deaf, but he just looks so charming with his giddy grin and sparkling eyes that you decide to overlook it (like always). He’s absolutely delighted at the action and begs you to do it again so he can take a picture for devilgram, but once the surprise is over, he just looks at you so softly. The pure adoration and love he sees in your eyes makes him feel like he’s floating and Azzy will be sure to shower you with kisses all over until you’re feeling the exact same. 

“OHH MY! How sweet of you, hon! Let me take a picture, do it again, do it again! You’re just so full of surprises, darling, I love it! I love you. I love you so much, you know? You make my heart race~!” 

†

Barbatos’ brain doesn’t catch up right away. He finishes greeting you and gets halfway through listing off the tea party spread before he actually processes the action— and that your hand is still holding his, rubbing your thumb over where you’d kissed. He stops right in the middle of the corridor and stares at you blankly, hot blush slowly rising onto his cheeks. The smile that crosses his face is completely for your eyes only (lovesick and bashful) and he’ll give you his amused chuckle before kissing your knuckles in return, bowing as he does so. 

“—I have also prepared a selection of-!!…you..you are very sly, Mc…I can’t say I mind it though. I do hope you’ll keep the way you affect me just between us, however…can’t have anyone else seeing, hm? Shall I return the favor?”

†

You and Solomon teased each other back and forth quite often but this he wasn’t expecting. And he couldn’t just play it off- not with so much infatuation plastered over your face as you keep placing kisses along his hand. He averts his eyes shyly, darting back and forth as he tries to form words, but…you just got him so good with that gesture, he’s absolutely tongue tied as he peers at you with his blushy face, voice actually cracking as he asks what that was for. 

“I—!…I, u-uh…Mc…what- what was that for…? You drive me absolutely crazy…can you do it again..please..?” 

Sliding your jacket off and wrapping it around his shoulders- even though it might not fit correctly- just because they were cold

Levi’s face is a blistering beacon of cherry and he takes a brief moment to malfunction before shakily gripping at the fabric around his shoulders, looking up at you with wide eyes. It’s something he’s seen straight from an anime, something he’s always wanted to experience, but now that he actually has, his soul is leaving his body because your cute little smile is just too…cute! He won’t give the jacket back, though, instead choosing to bury himself deeper in the material with a stuttered ‘thank you’. 

“H-h-huh?! O-oh, Mc…you..T-t-thank y-you!! ‘S really soft…’n s-smells like you..ah-! I-I mean-! Don’t listen to me, I’m j-just rambling! Thank you again!” 

†

More than likely too big for your jacket, Beel is confused at first and will ask what you’re doing and tilt his head cutely. Though, when you simply say ‘you were cold’, he turns all smiley and blushy and even lets out a little giggle. That sweet little closed eye smile of his is beaming as he thanks you and insists you pile up in his arms to share the warmth, because aren’t you going to get cold too? Being wrapped up in your scent and being able to wrap you up in his sounded like a perfect deal to him. 

“Hm? Oh, Mc…what’re you doing?…oh. Eheh…thank you! Won’t you be cold, though? Here, come closer, we’ll keep each other warm. Yeah…yeah I like having you close. I like you— I love you!” 

†

Belphie’s half asleep mind doesn’t really register it until he wakes up a few hours later. His lidded eyes land on the sight of your jacket, brain slowly registering before a sleepy- giddy- smile crosses his face. He’ll drag his sluggish body to wherever you are and drop his weight onto you, mumbling his gratitude and how lucky he is to have you without the fully-conscious filter being there. He’ll hold that jacket hostage until it has to be washed— it just made him feel so loved, he didn’t want to let it go. 

“Mmm…mh? Mc…? -yawn- Mc? Mm..thank you..you’re so good to me…love you s’much..come sleep with me now…wanna feel your warmth too. No- wanna keep the jacket..let me keep it..please?” 

†

Simeon blinks, eyes a bit wide as he stares at you before a bubbly laugh escapes him while he rubs the back of his neck and thanks you. He was quite surprised at the action, but completely delighted, and finds himself grinning stupidly before he can help it. He feels so fuzzy and warm and just wants to giggle and kick his feet— but he won’t…not outwardly, anyway. That giddy smile stays, though, all for everyone to see as he parades around with your jacket over his shoulders. 

“Oh, Mc, thank you! You really didn’t have to…but I appreciate it nonetheless- you’re so loving and kind, you never fail to make my day. I hope you’ll let me do something for you in return to show my appreciation?”

†

The first passing thought in Luke’s head is to deny he’s even cold, but when he sees that it’s you draping your jacket over him, he decides that yes, he is in fact freezing. And maybe he could just snuggle up to you as well… (Mc cuddles are the best!). He’ll happily exclaim to anyone that the jacket is yours and beam because he’s just so thrilled to be your friend and he’s just…so precious. 

“Waaahh!! Thank you, Mc! Are you sure you’re not an Angel? Hehe! Look, guys! Mc gave me their jacket! Aren't they the best?!” 

[devildomcuties]

When MC Climbs into Bed With Them

🕷The Demon Brothers x gn!reader 18+

🕷wc: 1439

🕷summary: Unable to sleep, you sneak out of your bedroom into the dark, empty halls of HOL.

🕷warnings: one spank, food mention

Lucifer

“What is it that you think you’re doing?” Lucifer’s words are soft, but annoyed as you pull the covers back to climb into his massive bed beside him.

“Sleeping,” you answer with a roll of your eyes. 

Lucifer spanks your ass sharply, “Did you just roll your eyes at me?”

You hum, rolling over to face him. It’s late and he looks exhausted. His hair is ruffled and his bare chest distracts you for a moment. You’re one of the few who could ever see him not put together.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he whispers as he pulls you close, ignoring the yawn you release as you drape your leg over his hip.

“Nightmare,” you murmur as you settle into his side, melting underneath his hand as he strokes the top of your head.

“Sleep. I am here to protect you from all dangers, even those in your sleep.”

Mammon

“Wah! What?!” Mammon is startled awake when he feels his bed dip. “Asmo, I swear if you’re trying to do my makeup in my sleep again for your Devilgram, I will end you right where you stand!”

“Ooh, so threatening,” you giggle as you get into his bed.

Mammon instantly relaxes as he turns on his side to face you. “What are you doing here, Treasure?”

“Can’t I come sleep with you when I please?” you smile as you bite back a yawn. Mammon nods, too tired to put on his ‘too cool’ facade. 

“Of course, Treasure. But you shouldn’t be roaming the halls so late at night. Call me next time and I’ll go to you.”

“Shh, sleep,” you giggle, wondering if he’s noticed you’re wearing a shirt you stole from him earlier when he was at a gig.

“And don’t think I didn’t notice you stole my shirt, you little thief,” Mammon murmurs as he falls asleep once again, pulling you close to his chest.

Levi

“I’m sleeping!” Levi huffs as he tugs the blanket up to his chest. His computer was still whirring as it shut off, and you knew he must have just climbed into his tub.

“It’s just me, Levi, not Lucifer,” you shake your head as you tiptoe closer and make him scoot over. He does so, muttering something unintelligle.

“I couldn’t sleep,” you state as you tug the blanket from him and he groans as he makes room for you. He had stayed up 36 hours playing a new game and now he needed some rest. Levi was just realizing he hadn’t seen you much during the day and he’d missed you.

“Plus, I wanted to see you,” you whisper, feeling him go rigid before he turns to face you.

“Yo-you did?” he stutters. His cheeks are warm and pink and he hopes it’s dark enough in his room to hide them.

“Of course, I did. That pillow you gave me isn’t enough for me, Levi. I needed you,” you admit as you drape your leg over his hip and guide his hand to your waist. 

“Didn’t you miss me?” you ask as you press your forehead to his. Levi ignores the wild pounding of his heart as he locks eyes with you.

“I-I did,” he whispers, closing his eyes for a moment as his cheeks burn hotter from embarrassment. 

You don’t say anything else, simply lean forward to kiss him goodnight.

Satan

Satan briefly looks up from his book when his bedroom door opens. The small light attached to the hardcover allows him enough light to read. 

“Go away, Mammon!” Satan huffs when nobody enters after a second. He knew Mammon liked to sneak around late at night to see what he could take to sell. Satan was still owed for his cursed book on transmutation. 

“It’s just me,” you chuckle as you close the door behind you. You head straight for his bed, climbing in beside him.

“What are you doing up so late?” Satan asks as he shuts his book. The kitty ears of his bookmark stick out from the top, and you smile warmly when you realize he uses your gift quite often.

“I couldn’t sleep. I figured you’d still be up and welcome me into your bed,” you whisper as you snuggle into his side. 

“You were correct,” Satan states as he raises his book and opens it to the page he left off. “Get comfortable.”

You do so, your head rests on his shoulder as he reads aloud. You soon drift off to the sound of his voice and Satan smiles to himself when he notes the cute way you sleep.

Asmo

“Beel, I already told you, you can’t eat my-” Asmo blinks when he spots you. “Oh, I thought you were someone else.”

“What did Beel want to eat?” you ask curiously as you climb into bed with him. Asmo giggles as he raises the covers and you spot his matching pajamas.

“My new avocado mask,” Asmo sighs heavily. “He came in here saying I was hiding food and raided all my new skincare products. I barely stopped him from eating my mask.”

“Whoops!” you giggle as you settle in beside him. Asmo admires you for a moment, his arm draping over your waist to pull you close.

“I see you did your skin care routine for once,” he smirks as you wiggle your butt toward him. Your back meets his chest and he kisses your shoulder. “I knew you could be good for me.”

“Asmo,” you huff, but soon lose all annoyance when his hand slips under your t-shirt. 

“Shh, darling. Get some sleep.”

Beel

Beel had his back facing the door when you opened it slowly. You figured he’d been sleeping for a while as you noted Belphie wasn’t in bed.

Carefully, you lift the covers and nearly scream when Beel rolls over to face you. You thought he’d been asleep!

“What are you doing here?” he asks as he stuffs his hand in a bag of chips. 

“You scared me!” you hiss as you get into his bed, making sure there’s no crumbs beneath you. If Lucifer knew he was snacking in bed, and you knew of it, he’d have you sweeping the floors with a toothbrush.

“You’re the one in my room, Cupcake,” Beel chuckles as he eats a handful of chips. You hope he’s almost done with them because you came here to get some sleep. You had grown tired of tossing and turning in your bed. You need Beel’s large arms wrapped around you to keep your bad dreams away.

“Couldn’t sleep,” you murmur as he pats his fingers on his sweatpants. His bare chest gets your attention as he tosses the empty chip bag onto the nightstand.

“I’m here now, Cupcake,” he assures you as he pulls you close, his arm draped over your waist as he pulls you close. You nod, yawning into his broad chest as he places his nose over your head. He inahles the scent of your hair, smiling softly.

Though you couldn’t cure his insatiable hunger, you definitely dulled it. He was glad you had sought him out tonight.

Belphie

“Levi, go away!” Belphie huffs as he hugs his pillow closer to his face. He was trying to sleep after a long day and only five naps. Levi had asked him to play some new game Belphie had no interest in and promised to cook dinner tomorrow so he could get another nap in.

“It’s just me,” you whisper as you get into bed with him. You figured he was hiding from Levi up here.

“Oh,” he responds as he opens his eyes a tiny bit. He raises the covers for you to climb in beside him. 

“Why are you up?” he asks with a yawn. His hair falls over his eyes and you gently push it away. You hadn’t seen him all day and now you realized how much you missed him. It was hard going about your day when he slept for most of it. Often you’d join him on his naps, not getting out of bed except to eat and shower, but today he’d been holed up with Levi.

“Missed you,” you admit as you replace his pillow. Belphie rests his head on your chest as you gently stroke his hair.

“I missed you, too,” he says as he blinks owlishly. He knew he should try to stay awake but he was just too tired. “Tomorrow we’ll go out. Just the two of us.”

“I’d love that,” you grin, meeting his gaze for a moment. “Sleep tight, Belphie.” 

Belphie kisses your cheek before he snuggles closer and falls asleep once again.

©devildomcuties - I do not allow reposts or translations of my work on any platforms.

[starlightguh]

The Sharpest Tongue

Word count: 2,822

Summary: What if the stone Sylus won hadn't been the right one to send him and MC home to Linkon? As MC struggles to learn the local language, she finds herself the subject of the other warriors in the clan. Too bad it seems like Sylus has the sharper tongue amongst them all.

Tags: Cunnilingus, Grasslands AU, Jealous!Sylus

A/N: This is a bit shorter than I had planned, but I wanted to write something for the grasslands AU and saw someone mention we needed more jealousy grassland stories, so here you go! 100% transparency, I could not find anything on Talanian language, so I used Mongolian words, I'm not familiar with the language so if there are mistakes, I apologize!! I hope you enjoy nonetheless. Find this fic on Ao3 as well!

The Khan had given Sylus the bright red stone for his victory in the battle against the best warriors in the clan. My worries weren’t for nothing as there wasn’t any trace of meta flux emanating from it. No matter how hard either of us tried, we couldn’t resonate with it.

So we were stuck in the grasslands.

For someone who should have been happy due to our victory, both me and Sylus held somber faces around the celebratory fires and festivities. I could feel his red eyes staring at my downcast face as he reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear.

“We’ll just keep searching kitten…As long as we’re together we can keep looking for a way to return home.”

I inhaled deeply and nodded silently as I turned to look at him, his expression was really soft and full of apology. I wanted to go home badly. But…Sylus had a point, wallowing won’t do anything. We’ll just make a plan to find a way back to Linkon.

I steeled myself by fixing my slouched posture and closing my eyes to take deep breaths. After a few moments I opened my eyes and smiled at Sylus, “Well I guess now is the time to embrace the nomad lifestyle…Until we find our way back home that is.”

Sylus stands, my eyes lingering on his distracting buff physique as he holds out his hand.

“Let’s not weep and try to make the most of our time together, hm? Shavanika.”

His baritone voice stirs an excitement in my belly as I take his hand and he begins to twirl me to the rhythm of the festive music the villagers are playing by the campfire. I feel the beads in my hair slap my cheeks as I spin around the orange hues of the warm flames near me. For a brief while as me and Sylus danced around the flames, my anxieties had drifted away. I was grateful to have him by my side and ease my worries.

My bare feet feel unsteady as I haphazardly try to follow the rhythm of an unfamiliar tune, but the warm and strong arms of the silver-haired warrior in front of me hold me steady. I smile and laugh at Sylus’ serious expression as we dance and lose ourselves to a night full of joy.

—————————

After the festival, we packed up and moved to travel alongside the rest of the villagers. Me and Sylus agreed we would adapt to our surroundings of the people around us as we tried to find any clues about a way home.

I was not the fastest learner, but I did get a few things down, the women taught me duties I was expected to help with, from herding livestock, sewing, cooking, and laundry, I was slowly earning my place amongst the others. However, I was struggling with learning the language. I could pick up a few words here and there, but I couldn’t really understand or communicate as properly as I would like.

Then there was Sylus, he was a polyglot so picking up the language wasn’t difficult for him. He must have been fluent only after a solid two weeks of study. I was envious, but also grateful since I relied on his help a lot to learn and understand.

The warriors happily accepted Sylus, he easily fit in and would help them with hunts for resources as well as military strategies and ideas. The Khan favored him a lot and Tara told me whispers of them wanting to promote Sylus to a general title.

While we hadn’t been traveling with our clan for more than a month, we easily slipped into our roles quickly. And now it seems we quickly have found ourselves involved in more politics than we would like.

It was like any other day, I was riding my cream-colored stallion through the grassy fields trying to get the flock of sheep on the right path. I called out the different sounds and commands I was taught while keeping a stead-fast pace on horseback.

My hunter's instincts kicked in as I noticed one sheep was away from the herd, and upon further investigation, it was being hunted by a hungry coyote.

“Shit,” I hissed to myself and acted quickly as I grabbed a rope from my satchel. As the coyote pounced, I lassoed it and used my strength to pull him away from the sheep.

I was heaving and sweaty as I just lifted the clueless sheep back to the herd. As I was getting back on my horse, I heard some whistles call out to me. I glanced around and noticed a group of four warriors walking up and cooing at me.

I didn’t really recognize them, I only knew they were of the same clan since their chest guards had the same color ropes that Sylus wore. The men spoke to me in Talanian, but I could only pick out words like ‘strong’ and ‘brave.’

“I uh…am not familiar with the language yet, chlaarai .”

They seemed to just smile as one made a comment to the group in Talanian, they laughed and just waved goodbye toward me as they rode off.

I didn’t think much of this encounter until the next day.

We had set up camps deep in the Northern Grasslands, orange was taking over the skies as the dawn broke. I was hanging clothes I had just washed in the river on a clothesline outside one of the elder's yurts.

Behind me I heard the sharp tongue of Talanian, I glanced and noted those same big warriors from the other day were talking. I had paid them no mind as I did my duties.

Suddenly I heard the sharp thuds of angry footsteps behind me and a strong pair of arms wrapped themselves around my waist. I glanced up and saw a very pissed-off Sylus glaring off in the direction of the four other men.

He yelled at them in Talanian and growled when the other men responded in what I could only assume was a taunt. Sylus let go of my waist and marched up to one of the men and grabbed him by his leathers. People started to gather to watch the rowdy commotion.

I turned and saw Tarna and sighed in relief since she could explain what was going on, “Hey, Tarna….What exactly is happening?” I asked her urgently as it sounded like the men were raising their voices.

“Well…It seems the Khan’s second son Gansu said something about your er….” She paused and looked shy when translating what was said, “birthing hips, and how he wanted you as a wife to bear his children.”

I stood frozen as it all clicked into place. I looked over at Sylus who was still arguing with them, a scowl marred on his face.

“Sylus came in and said they shouldn’t speak about you that way that you were his beloved. Gansu told him that it didn’t matter to him unless you two were wedded or you were pregnant.”

“Seriously?!? If he’s the son of a Khan he can marry whoever he wants. Why would he want me?”

Tarna shook her head at me, “That’s why Sylus is arguing, he says that you are with him and will never have anyone else’s children.”

The arrogant Gansu held a smirk as he practically hissed at Sylus, a dark expression glazed over Sylus’ face. I’ve only ever caught glimpses of Sylus angry, but never this murderous.

“What did he say?” I asked Tarna, my voice full of worry. I could feel the icy chill of Sylus’ anger even from a distance.

“Gansu just said ‘well whoever takes it keeps it’ as a threat… I think you should go over and stop Sylus, if he gets in a fight with the Khan’s son they could severely punish him,” Tarna warned me.

I nodded and without a second thought, I ran up behind Sylus and gently placed my hand on his lower back. His tense body seemed to ease up a bit at my touch as I tried my hardest to speak in Talanian.

“ Amarkhan bai….S-Shavanika …” Fight not, beloved . These were the only words I could best make out with my limited knowledge.

Silently he grabbed my hand and glared down Gansu as he turned to walk away with me. I felt his grip on my hand tighten as Gansu and his men still taunted behind us. We began walking off towards our yurt and it wasn’t until we were a safe distance away I had to whimper to Sylus.

“Your grip is too tight it hurts,” I cried.

He seemed to snap out of his trance and he softened his grip and rubbed his large thumb soothingly across my hand, “Sorry sweetie… I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”

“I don’t exactly know what was said, but Tarna translated some of what you guys were saying. I didn’t realize the Khan’s son and his friends saw me herding sheep yesterday.”

“The Talanian language is very harsh, most of the words are very direct. The disgusting words from the Khan’s second son really got under my skin is all… Why didn’t you tell me you ran into him yesterday?”

“I didn’t think it was important… Also, I hardly saw you yesterday,” I sigh, “You came back to our tent pretty late… Are you sure you weren’t up practicing Talanian with the other village girls?” I hiss a bit. While the Khan’s son may be chasing my skirts, I can’t ignore the fact that all the girls of the village have been trying their hardest to catch Sylus’ eye.

Sylus stopped in his tracks and growled he turned to me and looked down with a sharp gaze, “How many times do I need to express to you I’m not interested in the other village girls?”

I match his glare and put my hands on my hips, “And how many times do I have to tell you I can handle myself, the Khan’s son doesn’t scare me. I’ll just refuse him.”

Sylus tsked his lips and leaned down to lift me up on his shoulder.

“Hey! Put me down!”

“No. It seems like I need to practice Talanian with the only village girl who matters to me,” he says sharply. He gives my butt a playful smack as I’m hoisted over his shoulder, my face in the direction of his backside.

I smack his butt back and he just chuckles, “You’re not getting out of this one Shavanika, so simmer down kitten.”

When he strutted into our tiny little yurt and set me down, his red eyes shined with a mixture of excitement and mischief. His hand remained on my waist as he spoke in a low and seductive tone.

My back arched at the feeling of his hands trailing down my waist and gathering my skirts up in his large rough palms. He set his other palm in the dip on my hip as he stared at me with almost an appraising look in his eye. “Let’s start with the lesson…What did that man call these?”

His left dominant hand was under my skirt caressing my thigh, I let out a shaky breath as I closed my eyes and tried to remember the foreign words spoken earlier.

“T-Toro? Kha-?” I sputtered out as his palm found its way to one of my bare-asscheeks. He squeezed it and tsked his lips as he brought his face closer to mine and he spoke lowly.

“Torkah Khongo,” the purr in his voice did nothing but further my arousal. I was being engulfed by the dominant energy Sylus was putting out. It didn’t take very much for me to become putty in his strong hands.

His other hand reached under my skirt as well and without further notice, the lengthy skirt that usually met my ankles were now scrunched up at my waist. Underwear wasn’t a common thing within the tribe, so I had been forced to forgo that luxury and be commando under my lengthy traditional clothing. I think for a situation such as a lustful Sylus, it was beneficial to be as naked as possible.

“Do you know what the translation is?” He quirked a brow.

“B-Birthing Hips?”

“Mhmm,” there was a slight growl to his response, “he said that you had the birthing hips to bear him many sons.” Sylus gripped my hips in a tightening grip. “Too bad for him these hips are miniikh.”

Sylus dropped to his knees in a squat as his mouth bit a part of my inner thigh, his hands rubbing the bare skin before him. “Do you know the translation?”

His mouth placed hot and wet kisses in my inner thigh, teasing me by being so close to where I actually wanted his mouth. I gasped out an answer as he was torturing me with kisses, “M-Mine?”

“Good girl, seems like you do know more than I thought,” he whispers breathlessly, “Let me reward you.”

He then licked my dripping slit, I let out a whimper in surprise.

“Tell me, who do these hips belong to?” He asked as he pulled away from licking my heat.

“Y-You.”

He smacked my thigh at my answer, “Ah-Ah-Ah, in Talanian sweetie.”

“ Ta,” I moaned out as he suckled on my sensitive pearl.

With a pop of his lips, he pulled away and smirked, “Hmm that’s a good answer, but I have a better one. Repeat after me: Nökhör .”

The pronunciation of the word feels strange as I try my best to repeat it, “noct-core?”

Sylus just shakes his head and repeats it slower for me, when I finally pronounce it right he rewards me by entering one of his fingers into my dripping center.

“Keep saying it sweetie, practice makes perfect,” he chuckles and his mouth finds my center again as he slowly devours me.

With his finger slowly pumping me and his greedy tongue flickering on my sensitive folds, my voice is nothing but a loud and needy whine of this new word he’s taught me and I haven’t a clue what it means. All I know is Sylus likes it as he happily groans into my dripping cunt.

“Louder. I want the whole tribe to hear you scream it, so everyone knows we belong to each other and no one else,” his lower face is dripping in my essence and his red eyes have a bit of a manic and desperate look as I look down on him.

“Sylus….” I lose my mind as he now has three fingers in me and the mouth of a sinner as he loudly slurps at my folds with his sharp tongue.

Ecstasy and euphoria wash over me as I come on his face with that new and unfamiliar word on my tongue. My knees shake and nearly give out, but Sylus stands and lifts me up so my legs are wrapped around his middle.

I lean my head forward as I pant into his ear, “What’s the translation of that word.”

He laughs as he rubs my back while I come down from my high, “Why, it’s my future title…It means ‘husband.’”

“Sylus! How bold of you to assume!”

He frowned at this and glared at me, “I'm not assuming anything, but unless you want to be the wife of the Khan’s son, then you must be mine…I can’t protect you from the leaders otherwise.”

I blush, “I-It’s just so embarrassing….I never thought about marriage.”

He smirks a bit, “Well I'm glad I can change your mind, at least while we’re here. Linkon has a very different culture from the grasslands, and we can talk about a proper marriage when we return home. Deal?”

“Fine but you’re not knocking me up while I'm here,” I huff at him as he lays me down on our pelts and strips off the rest of his clothes.

“I make no promises, but I’ll do my best. You’re just too tempting, Shavanika.”

“Only for you my Nökhör.”

That night Sylus made me scream so loud that the Khan’s son did nothing but glare daggers as Sylus confidently walked through the village the next day I, on the other hand, was forced to stay in bed due to my wobbly knees. When I finally returned to my duties after a day's rest, the other girls just giggled as they saw me.

Tarna translated a message for me that the elders are happy for whatever blessings me and Sylus marriage may bring, but to keep it to ourselves at night. I was horrified and embarrassed, while Sylus walked around as the proud warrior both in the grasslands and in the bedroom.

The strongest warrior and the sharpest tongue will always come out on top I suppose.

~fin~

Translation guide:

Shavanika - Beloved

Chlaarai - Sorry

Amarkhan bai - Fight not

Torkah Khongo - Birthing Hips

Miniikh - Mine

Ta - You

Nökhör - Husband

[kykyonthemoon]

Rain and Tears

You once said that people liked being under the rain because no one could see them cry. Zayne caught you under the rain one day.

୨ৎ. Zayne x Reader (MC)

୨ৎ. Tags: hurt/comfort, fluff, emotional hurt, no y/n.

୨ৎ. Word count: 707.

୨ৎ. Requested by PAL.

୨ৎ. Masterlist ♡ Request a fic (read more for current status)

As you stepped out of Akso Hospital gate, it began to rain. You looked up, to where the sky was as gray as your mood. The cold, clear drops cut into your skin. And you realized you were crying. 

The warm beads that spilled from your eyelids became frigid. Slowly, strolled down the sidewalk in your Hunter outfit, which was slightly tattered and blood-stained. In the distance, a column of black smoke rose on the horizon, marking the location of the surprise attack right in the city of Linkon.

Upon receiving the news, you rushed to the scene. But no matter how hard you fought against the Wanderers, you could not ensure the protection of all residents. Among those who were transported to the hospital, a little girl could not make it.

You understood that it was not your fault, and the doctors at Akso Hospital did their best. Yet you couldn't stop thinking that if you had run just a little faster, if you had been just a little stronger, things may not have turned out this way.

You waited in the hospital corridor for many hours. Then the physicians emerged from the emergency room with dreadful news.

You reassured Zayne you were alright and could walk home on your own, but every step you took was unsteady and exhausting. The mental and physical burden was overwhelming. At last, unable to move any further, you dropped down on the sidewalk and burst into tears.

The rain became very heavy. You let your feelings dissolve into the chillness of the rain. You lose track of time while sitting there. Once you had calmed down, you raised your head and saw an umbrella covering above. 

Dr. Zayne was standing there. The umbrella provided just enough coverage for you, so his casual clothes' shoulders were somewhat damp. You hurriedly wiped away the tears and tried to rise up, but it seemed like there was no strength left in your body.

Zayne leaned down in front of you. He placed his warm palm on your cheek and softly caressed it. He said:

“Is this how you get home by yourself?”

You forced a smile. Zayne must have felt it was fake too.

“I was just going home… I just…” You tried to keep your voice from trembling, but you left the sentence unfinished. Zayne stroked your face and said:

“You once said that people liked being under the rain because no one could see them cry. Is that why you’re sitting here alone?”

You knew that sacrifices were inevitable in every battle, just as Zayne knew that he could not save everyone. You realized that you were both going through the same thing. If you blamed yourself for not being able to save that little girl, then he was also suffering by witnessing his little patient pass away. Perhaps the only difference was that you could simply sit here and cry, but Zayne would not.

"What about you?…" You grasped Zayne's hand. "When you feel stuck due to circumstances beyond your control... What would you do?"

On such a dreary day, Zayne’s eyes brought rays of warmth. He understood exactly what you were saying and why you were sobbing in the first place.

"I'd do what I can control," Zayne replied. "I'll keep working and researching, so that when I come across the same situation, I can handle it."

“That’s truly something Doctor Zayne would say…” You remarked. No matter what, you could always count on his steadfastness and rely on him.

“So you will continue working now?” You asked, then received a shake of his head from him.

“My shift has just ended. For now, I have a special patient to take care of.”

Zayne leaned towards you. His warmth enveloped you and raised you up. He lifted you up with one arm, resting you on his shoulder while the other hand held onto the umbrella.

“Let me take you home.”

You did not protest. Your arms wrapped around Zayne’s neck to maintain balance. You leaned against him, who had always been steady enough to keep you from falling. Thanks to Zayne, you knew you did not need to hide your tears in the rain alone any longer.

[amethystheartsx]

| I am in love and deep shit |

A tale of self-indulgence, affections and vengeance.

Part 1

SelfawareAu, isekai, vengeful mc. 8k words. LADS x nonmc!reader

AN: phew I finalllllyyyyyy got the first part done. I had a different idea but when people loved the vengefulMC arc so much I just had to redo the whole thing.

Summary:- you died and got isekai into LADS. Chapter 1: basically a crash out. Chapter 2: you meet the guys. Chapter 3: Lore?

Chapter 1: THE AWAKENING.

Pain.

Unbridled and sharp pain courses through your entire body as if it had been dispersed through the air and reassembled. You rolled off the soft plush of the bed and threw up a string of curses dropped softly from your mouth "fucking hell, I ain't ever gonna touch anything they give me ever again," you mumble to yourself.

Dazed and trembling you barely manage to stand up and look around. A vague sense of familiarity bound with the reality that this was not your room invokes sheer feelings of panic and fear. "no way, no fucking- WHAT THE FUCK"

The moment you realized you were not in your place, you had a very valid crash out, screaming and crying and banging on the door, demanding to be let out or else you would scream so loud the dead would- oh.

The door was not unlocked.

You were alone, you made sure of it. There wasn't a sign of another person, at least not one of a man. Everything in that apartment looked like it belonged to women, from the furnishing to the clothes that were present. It was a cozy and homey space with high-tech appliances that didn't sit right.

In the middle of desperately looking for your phone, you passed by a huge window; by now, you were alert enough to notice the difference.

You lived in a quiet, peaceful and clean town, nothing close to the sight in front of you, "wow!" Even in the current situation, you were mesmerized.

Tall skyscrapers, with fancy designs, streets, and roads unlike you have ever seen before. Forget the town. You were sure your country didn't have anything like that. "Am I in a different country?!? Did somebody fucking smuggle me- oh my- I am gonna throw up again" That feeling of sickness swarmed in your stomach when you theorized that you maybe were on a different continent altogether. 

Oh, you sweet summer child.

Just like that, you had another very valid crash out. In a fit of irrational haste you tried to make a run for it going straight to the front door but of course...it had a lock, and you had no idea how it worked you tried it once and then twice only to fail both times, scared you might screw up and alert the wrong people if you keep punching random buttons you stepped back, taking few deep breaths because Rash decisions were no help.

Now you were locked in.

Entering a spacious bathroom you went straight to find a mirror. Checking your whole body; you had felt such immense pain when you woke up. Surely there must be something wrong. All your fears died down when you didn't find any sign of injury or trauma. Absolutely nothing, only for it to now be replaced entirely by confusion. "The...the accident," you whispered, feeling perplexed. The images were still there; you were bleeding and severely injured, but right now, you stand here, all fine and pristine. Just how long were you out?

-----

"If this is some kind of practical joke, it isn't funny," you said out loud. You have been doing that for a while now as you searched for your damned phone. "maybe for you it is but the moment I catch you, you will wish I had died instead" Making threats to your imaginary kidnappers was turning more and more frustrating, tearing apart whatever was left of your sanity, a part of you regretted reading all those dark romance obsessed stalker fictions because look what happened.

Tired and parched from taking out loud so much, you went to the kitchen, the fridge, and the pantry fully stacked. You did find a cellular device, but your joy was short-lived since it was powered off due to a low battery. The charger was nearby, and you did not waste a second to plug it in.

Finally, a ray of hope had shined up on you.

While the phone charged, you started paying more attention; your focus was entirely on looking for your phone, but now that you had your 'kidnapper' phone, you decided to look for more clues about your whereabouts, and the best way to do that was through the news channel.

------

“Good morning, Linkon City! I’m Seliha Ramona, and you’re watching Linkon City News—bringing you the latest updates to start your day.

Something strange happened while most of us were asleep. Late last night, a mysterious energy flux wave passed over the entire city. No power outages, no disruptions—just a brief, unexplainable pulse of energy that left scientists scratching their heads and residents wondering if they dreamed it. So, what was it? A natural anomaly? Perhaps a wandered attack? Or something else entirely? We’ll be diving into what we know so far, right after the break.”

Any other sound emitting from the screen fell deaf to your ears as your knees gave out and you fell limp on the floor.

"no, no, no, no wakeup, wakeup, wake,p, wakeup, wake..up the wake. Up wake...." your eyelids grew heavy, and the room spun as you babbled incoherent words.

-----

When you regained consciousness again, the TV was still on. Something played on it, maybe the advertisement for some products you knew jack shit about. As you lay there on the cold hard ground, you don't bother turning it off; the noises keep you grounded. 

One would expect another wave of valid crash out but it never came. Your staggered breath and half-opened eyes were the only signs of life emitting from your body as you lay there...

Numb.

Once the irregular breath became steady you opened your eyes and welcomed the darkness. The sky outside had darkened, taking away the main source of light from the apartment. You stare blankly at the screen, not watching what it shows. A part of you had hoped to wake up in your world, surrounded by your things and people much to your dismay.

After you had actively accepted the fact that you were in Linkon City, a made-up place of a virtual world, you found the strength to sit up and then stand on your own two feet and hurry towards the device you had left to charge. 

As you go through that phone, something inside you churns as it vibrates continuously, notifications one after the other. 

Tara

yevone

Grayson

And others so you didn't care for you scrolled down pausing till you found .... them.

Dr. Mcdreamy

pretty fishie

eepy baby

handsome boy

Colonel bbg.

Your hands shake and you put the phone down, smart enough to make the connections. You were in the game; this was the apartment designed for MC, and this phone belonged to MC, but the question remains...

Where was she?

But wait...

Aren't you MC? Have you just taken her place but how? How in the ever-burning hell did you get inside the game? And what the hell are you supposed to do now?

The phone was useless now; you couldn't reach out to anyone; what would you even say?

"yes hello! See your world and everything you know is fake but me, I am real, and I decided how the fate of your world goes because it is all a game for me, but I am kind of stuck in the game right now so like? Do me a solid and help a sis out?"

Yeah no, that is not very smart.

-----

You found yourself standing in front of the mirror again, face wet with the cold water you splashed on your face.

"lucid dreaming," you give yourself a thumbs up to a viable theory. "Ugh, no, I only tried it once when I was 15...shifting perhaps? No, what am I even? ARGH-" You pull on your hair in frustration, and then it hits you.

Hard like the truck that killed you.

"coma! I am in a coma," you jumped. "Yes, now that makes sense. I got in an accident and fell into a coma!" Yes, you were pacing around talking out loud to yourself like a maniac, but it is all very valid in your given situation. "I just need to find a lamp and stare at it!"

Long story short. That didn't work.

You were looking up the internet for methods to wake up from a coma, but the best you could find were cases when patients woke up when they realized they were in a state of dream; self-awareness was something that may help a patient wake up. If not that, there were other medical ways that you were sure did not exist in your world. Whatever hope you had left was now in the hands of the doctor of your world.

Pushing the sleek laptop away, you lay back on the couch. "Now what?" you say out loud. "Well, if I am here, I might as well..."

Chapter 2: THE RE-INTRODUCTION

The hunter uniform looks good on you. It was a brand-new day, and staying in that apartment would not answer your questions. Tara had texted you the most. You made up Some excuse about being sick, but there hasn't been one text from....them.

Your heartbeat picked up at the thought of them, millions of questions running through your mind: will they recognize you as MC? Will they show you the same affection as they show her? How will it be? What if they know you are not the MC but an imposter? Because let's be real, no matter how hard one tries, you can't make your MC look exactly like you. The game didn't even have the right option to do your hair right!!!! MC is just 10 times prettier version of you with vaguely resembling features, so would they really know its you?!

Well, only one way to find out.

----

Turns out the lock on the door had an option of a biometric system in case of emergencies. Mucb, to your joy, it accepted your fingerprint so that answered your first question. You were in the place of MC!

You opened the door, took a deep breath, and stepped out; you went to the elevator.

Pressed the button and waited.

The elevator stops.

The door opens.

Nothing prepares you for the sight in front of you.

Standing there in all his glory was the sweet beloved neighbor, Xavier.

The tall, starry-eyed man looks at you as if he had seen something marvelous, a vision so puzzling he couldn't even breathe right.

You were in awe, too; you thought he was pretty on screen, but right now, you wanted nothing else but to hold him and find the solace in his arms that you knew he could bring you. It was as if he had been harvested from the sun it self, molded into perfection as a beacon of strength

The trance is broken when the elevator door starts closing and Xavier shoots his arm out to stop it "You-"

"Hi Xavier!! It's me! ymcn" you chirped, sounding a little too cheerful to be real, so smooth of you. "ymcn?" he tilts his head in confusion. 

Oh no, is he catching on already. the thought made you gulp. "Ah, you know your neighbor and very good Friend. You said stepping inside the elevator

Very smooth

Xavier graciously made space for you, his eyes scrutinizing, studying your every move and actions, he seemed to be on high alert and that scared you shit less. “So another day at work huh” you tried to make small talk feeling nervous but giddy, playing with the lobe of your ear, a dumb habit since childhood when you get awkward.

And finally, finally that guy cracks a smile.

“You really do that huh” be said his eyes suddenly brightening up with mirth, putting you at ease but you were confused “uh I do what-” you couldn't finish your sentence when Xavier suddenly reached out and pulled you flush into him.

Your brain shuts down.

He was so warm and despite his size, very huggable too. He seemed bigger then the description but then again you had taken infolds description with a grain of salt when they said Sylus was 6 '2 pfft.

It wasn't until you actually hugged him back that you noticed he was trembling “Xavier?” You questioned, trying to pull away only for him to tighten his grip “am sorry, just need to hold you right now” he mumbles face pressed in you neck making your heart flutter, it was hard not to jump at him and hopefully trigger the freaky Xavier to come out and play. You really questioned your morals at that moment. “Is everything alright Xavier” you asked again once you gathered yourself, noticing the fact that he’d squeeze you ever so gently every time you say his name “am good just…just need a hug”. He was so endearing, you can't be blamed for the way you just melt in his arms. “Awh sweetie, a difficult hunting mission?“ You asked, rubbing his back, a soft cooing sound from your lips that made Xavier dig his fingers in the softness of your waist and take a sharp breath. “ Uh I-” Before he could form a coherent sentence, the elevator door opened. You quickly pushed him off, you were at the ground level now and people needed to board on as well.

The moment you exited the elevator Xavier's finger found your wrist again holding it firmly, keeping you in place. You turned to see him and he was looking down at your body, not in a lustful way but observant. Still the fact he was looking at you like that made you blush “uh Xavier” you poke his side and his head snaps up to your face “oh I uh I am so sorry” he was aware of his staring…just not truly apologetic “its just I was looking for the injuries” he says nervousness taking hold on his tone “injuries?” you tilt your head, was mc supposed to have some injury at this point in the game?What chapter is this?.

“Yeah you know from-from our last mission!” He looked away and he didn't seem convinced on his own words “oh yeah no I am fine” you brush it off as just Xavier checking you out, you were his queen after all.

The thought made you giddy and inflated your ego.

“Still maybe go to dr. Zayne to get yourself checked” he said, fidgeting just a little. You didn't question the fact how he knew Dr.zayne, since in the game it was made clear that they weren't that aware of each other, but only because of the fact he looked so pretty when he blushed “yeah but I don't have an appointment I can't just barge in there now can I” you shrug as you both walk out of the building together. Hand in hand.

“No he will, he is your primary physician, he will take out time for you.” The conviction in his voice didn't miss you, while you were aware he was you LI and your affinity with him was just as high as Xavier's you still felt uneasy. “But my heart is-”

“Please” he begged, his sapphire eyes brimming with emotions, worrying being the most prominent one “that a- mission was bad and you were hurt. Captain Jenna told you to see the doctor first and foremost, remember?”

Like hell you did.

To not look suspicious you nod making him sigh visibly with relief “I'll go back to the headquarters I will do your desk work too” he said taking out his phone “wait you know where the hospital is right?” He asked, suddenly making you stiffen.

Like hell you did.

Again to not look suspicious you nod, Xavier only smiles “I'll still send you the directions” he smiles warmly, you couldn't help but giggle like a schoolgirl. His suave and charismatic demeanor fitting a royalty had you swooning.

Xavier not only gave you the address he fetched you a cab because let's be real, you don't actually know how to ride a bike ... .at least not the kind Mc had in the game.

And so now you stand in front of your other “boyfriend's” office. One thing you noticed was how everyone recognized you as the MC they treated you like they would treat her, Grayson even gave you the proper guide to his office not at all questioning why you would need to know, to them you were a wee little sick girl, who probably got a bad accident during a mission and is a bit confused and forgot…no biggie.

When you finally got the courage you knocked on the door, a smooth “come in” called back to you, an allowance to open the door and enter that you did.

“I was starting to think you fell asleep while standing right at my door” dark zayne spoke his chair turned away as he fetched a file from a shelf behind him “who does that? I am pretty sure that's not possible” you say hoping he’d stay like that because after Xavier you were not in the shape to look at another devastatingly handsome man.

But of course he just had to turn.

You felt butterflies soaring when those sharp eyes were on you, This man. THIS man should NOT be a doctor. THAT face is not good for ANYONE'S heart.

“I think you should know that it is possible with some individuals, you maybe one of them”

“What is and a- who?“ you replied with a question, your voice strained, eyes unfocused.

“I am saying- are you having a stroke?” He asked head tilted as he tried to decipher your weird behavior.

“Possibly”

In hindsight you knew you should not have made that joke because now you were in a hospital bed going through tests. being closely monitored by Dr. Zayne. To no one's surprise your heart rate was accelerating in a concerning way.

“Nervous?” The doctor clad in white smiles in a knowing way. “It-its routine right. I am all good” you managed to say in between the short encounter with Xavier and now that you had no idea how you will handle the other three. You almost jumped at the prince and the doctor was making you weak….

This is so NOT going to be easy for you.

—

“So you were not having a stroke” Zayne comments the obvious. You were seated in front of him, on the other side of the desk “I told you it was just a dumb joke but you insisted on that test” you retorted not wanting to be accused of wasting his precious time, even if he seemed to be fine with it. “I know I just wanted to make sure of some things” he says vaguely with a dismissive wave as he reads the report Grayson had delivered, and as if on cue Grayson poked his head inside the office “doctor zayne I took the liberty to ask for equipment maintenance” He says.

“Thank you dr.Grayson”

“Yeah I mean after those inaccurate result of miss hunter I thought it was appropriate to do so, it be a miracle for her heart to be in that great shape in such-”

“You can leave dr. Grayson”

The other doctors cheeked flushed as he mumbles out apology and steps outside. You sat there, still. Surely Dr. Zayne is too smart for your bullshit right he can obviously see through it. Panic bubbles inside your heart again but before you could even formulate your next move he spoke up.

“You should get back to work too” zayne says, making you look back at him “I have ... .things to do”.

“Right! Yes, of course” you sat up from your seat hastily turning towards the door “see- see you on my next appointment” you said finding yourself to be looking forward to seeing him again, to revive that kind of care and attention again, one you only thought happened in fantasy…well you were living in one now.

Zayne lip curled into a slight smile, observant eyes softening in to tenderness. 

“Sooner then that I hope” the way he says it make your heart soar and you couldn't help but grin back “yes, of course”

As you exited the room, you noticed a movement zayne hunched over putting your recent test report in the paper shredder

—-

You had just stepped outside the hospital feeling giddy, the Sunshines on your skin spread in warmth over your body, there was a skip in your step as you walked. This wasn't as bad as you thought you could enjoy it till you woke up back in your world right? No harm in that, sure it will be hard to leave them but….

Your train of thoughts vanishes when an eerie feeling creeps up your back, that feeling of female intuition that puts you on high alert.

You are being watched.

You look up and around to see any signs of a mechanical crow but there was none. Hell you even retraced your step to make sure but there was no sign of anybody following.

“Caleb you sexy freak if that's you I swear…” you mumble as you continue in your direction before your phone buzzes. Captain Jenna had given you a day off. Apparently it was the doctor's order? But did not zayne just tell you to go back to work?

You decide to text zayne and ask why but a car, a gorgeous one at that, stopped right beside you followed by rather loud honking. You couldn't believe you couldn't escape catcallers even in a fictional world. You were going to ignore like always but of course that was not how it was going to go. “Hey cutie get in!” If it weren't for that voice you would not have looked up in its direction

“Rafayel” you gasped, the sight in front of you almost had you on your knees in broad daylight. “The one and only” the unfairly gorgeous man replies, pink pouty lips quirked in a smirk, well aware of your sinful admiration. “Now stop gawking, it's getting embarrassing, miss bodyguard” that playful lilt in his voice made your heart skip a beat, “get in now, we have places to be” he didn't even have to use his siren song to lure you into his ocean of secrets.

You got in his car without a single question, the soft face that glowed like a polished pearl under the sunlight made you forget all about those creepy feelings. “Where do we need to be?” You ask after pinching the underside of your leg to get hold of yourself.

“Tsk, don't tell me you have already forgotten? Weren't we going to find those corals that are going extinct? I need those pinkish pigments and only they have the right one, ah my miss bodyguard doesn't like me as much as I like her if she forgets so easily” he pouts.

Oh those lips. Its illegal not to kiss them right then and there

You are more than willing to get into another fatal accident, consequences be damned.

“Well I guess it's your luck then, I just got a day off” you chuckle looking outside at the view. Rafayel glances at you. Those gorgeous galaxy eyes taking your appearance neatly seated in his car. “mhm, super convenient” he says one hand one the steering as he guides the car smoothly on the roads of Linkon.

Something in his tone unsettled you and you turned back to look at him, he was whistling without a care in the world, those mischievous eyes on you again “can't get enough me huh cutie?” He says teasingly and your guards crumbled down before you could even get them up. “you know you look different” rafayel beams as the color drains out of your face. You fidget in your seat and open your mouth.

“You look so much more prettier now cutie, so lively”

His gaze lingers on you, seeing your cheeks flushed “I'd rather just spend my day looking at you instead of gathering coral” he sighs in a very dramatic fashion.

“Flatterer” you grumble, having a one sided beef with your treacherous heart for going absolutely crazy for him.

“As it takes you everywhere” he replies with a wink in your direction.

—-

“Rafayel? What corals would we find here” you said motioning at the small cafe in front of you. The sign said Destiny Cafe cafe but something was wrong. Why was it so far from the main city and in the middle of nowhere? 

You had fallen asleep since rafayel said it was quite far away, mostly because you did not trust yourself with that pretty boy.

So imagine your surprise when he stops the car in front of the lonesome café. 

“Relax cutie, we are Just making a pit stop” rafayel dismisses your concern. “We-well okay but-” you wanted to speak but was interrupted by his ringing phone. The purple haired man groaned at the name displayed, it was Thomas.

“Tell you what cutie, why don't you head in and get us a table and I'll be right there with you okay” his soft but callused hand pats your head, pretty eyes on you conveying his desire to not let you go even for a moment, you have had seen them so many times, but this intensity was real, a first. You could go through all his cards and chapters but still wouldn't find the look he was giving you now. 

This one right here was just for you. this aching desire was not animated, it was and unadulterated. A man who waited enough.

And that scared you.

“Alright” you speak softly, his soft hand trailed down to cup your cheek, a breath too long and you would have reduced to putty, easy to mold, to be sculpted by his artistic hands anyway he likes.

–

You enter the near empty cafe, aesthetic all it looked the same as the game giving a sense of calm. There was only one guy who was sitting with his back to you, you saw the lack of staff and was quite confused.

through the window you could see Rafayel in heated discussion flailing his arms around in such animated way that had you giggling “oh he is definitely the cutest” you say and not a second later a heavy arm drapes around your shoulder.

“What was that pipsqueak?”

You jumped turning to face those amethyst eyes that took your breath away. “Caleb?!?” You were happy to see him but also panicked because Rafayel was just outside. They weren't supposed to meet, at least not yet, you don't exactly remember where the game was but not here!.

“What are you doing here Caleb?” You ask him stepping away I front of him, a lame attempt to block his view of the merman thay was currently throwing a tantrum of some kind. “Aye come on pips are seriously gonna ask me that? it's our go to place we always meet here don't we?” His voice was playful and teasing but you did notice the way he spoke to you, the way he looked at you, screamed he knew something more than he should.

“I-I mean yeah but like i just didnt thought I'd bump into you today” you try to cover it up somehow. Caleb chuckles patting your head “I know but I am so glad to see you anyway” you had a revelation that you were actually a slut for those so you couldn't help but blush and look away to clear your throat in an attempt to not look completely pathetic. Unaware how his eyes darkened the moment crimson hues spread on your soft cheeks, “look at me pips” he says, he says his voice was breathy and caught you off guard when you look at him, those purple eyes you adored bore something far more primal then just adoration “uh ye-yes?”. He says nothing, just cups your face with both hands and squishes it ever so gently his hands felt kind of rough in a manly sort of way. “Caleb~” you whine making the man in front of you break out that teasing playful smile, he sighs “you are actually so warm and soft” he says, and no, nobody blames you for blushing as hard as were right now because who wouldn't if they were being cradled with such gentle affection.

“Thank you” you mumble and he only squishes your face harder making you whine again, you grab his wrist and pry his hand away from your face, hot or not he was still a stranger…we'll kind off.

You turned back to look at Rafayel, anxious once you see him ending the call “well Caleb don't you have things to do I don't know colonel things” you try to push a very amused Caleb away. “None actually I specially made time for my little pipsqueak” he says, and now you just felt bad trying to push him away,buy it quickly died when Rafayel turned around making his way to the cafe, it was clear he too had seen Caleb now “oh no..” You spoke softly bracing yourself to whatever awkward situation that was to come.

“Cutie I turned my back for a minute and you are already paying attention to some other man” Rafayel spoke calmly as he approached the two of you standing right next to you one armed draped over your shoulder. Rafayel did not looked too pleased.

Rafayel regarded the man with a nod that he returned, am in the midst of the pretty boy standoff you caught on to the air of familiarity between them.

“Ah yes rafayel this is Caleb” you say awkwardly pointing at the dark haired man.

Both of them turned to you now, a spark of mischief mixed with adoration they look back at each other Caleb extending out his hand “hi I am Caleb her friend nice to meet ya” he said barely controlling that grin, AND so was rafayel “hello Caleb I am Rafayel also her friend”. He says shaking Caleb's hand.

You weren't stupid you could see it so clearly that they knew each other. But why? How? Canonically it should be right.

“Ah by any chance you guys know each other?” you ask only earning a pat as a response from Caleb. His large hand goes to the back of your neck to pull up towards him. “Well you see rafayel I WAS having conversation with my pipsqueak so if you could excuses us-” he tries to pry you away only for rafayel to not budge “no I brought my cutie here and I suggest we sit down” he says sounding far more serious then he had been “ you know whatever you have to say to her you can say it in front of me” at this point you were getting worried again because it didn't seem right.

Caleb's eyes narrowed down again “it's unfair you had her for the whole ride  feom the hospit till here I get to have some time with Y/N too before-“

Your blood ran cold, it shouldn't be that name he should call, you weren't listening to what they were saying anymore, that wasn't your name in the game. It was something else, a nickname you had but not your real legal name no! “What did you call me?” You ask softly, simply. Their attention was on you again.

Panicked, both of them. The sight blared alarms in your head, something was wrong. “How did you know he picked me up from the hospital” you stepped away from rafayel, creating some space. Rafayel muttered something under his breath, Caleb looked solemn “well cutie-“ rafayel was interrupted.

“Always the quick one to pick on things aren't you little detective” Caleb says casually with an under current of intensity. Rafayel seemed just as uneasy as you “what the hell do you mean Caleb” you glare at the man much taller than you. “Caleb” rafayel says in a warning tone, the tension only thickens as the seconds go by “of save it sardines, she is bound to know that's why we brought her here, you brought her here”.

Something inside your stomach churned “I asked what the fuck.is going on!” You asked again, this time louder disguising your fear as anger.

“Now now y/n no need to be fussy, you know it and we know it so let's drop all this playing by the storyline alright” Caleb tries to approach you cautiously only to be pushed away. “All you are doing is scaring her Caleb, get a grip” the slightly shorter guy held him back by his arm, you could see how desperate he was to reach out again but he didn't, for once Caleb listened solely because how you looked at them right now, threatened.

“Remember what the doc said, we need to ease it in” Rafayels words did something to him and he nodded.

 “Alright if you two are done having a moment can we talk about the fact you know we are in a game!!!” you cried out, the same force of panic takes over you, the dizzying feeling you had when you were at the apartment standing I front of the TV screen “see this is why zayne told us to break it down easy and together in his presence” rafayel snapped at Caleb who only looked guilty “you know she tends go spiral” now it was Rafayels turn to pale AMD shut his mouth looking horrified “oh very smart and you had been scolding me!” Caleb hissed at him as you staggered back “how would you know that” you asked. Not really sure if you could even bare to learn how “pipsqueak-” he tries to reach out only for you to step back, only to bump into something firm yet warm, Xavier. 

“I knew it shouldn't have been me bringing you here” he was addressing you while glaring at the two men in front of him. 

Before you can register that he was now here as well the doorbell chimed announcing the arrival of another figure, zayne.

“there seems to be tension around here” his eyes were quick to find you, icy demeanor changing into one of concern “you look unwell” he states approaching you with hurried steps but you dodged him, stepping away from Xavier and shoving past rafeyl, sending the guy straight into Caleb's arm.

The cafe was pretty small you had nowhere to run, the only place your desperate legs took you was behind the cafe counter…as if that would do something.

“Stay back I don't as in DO NOT want to be near any of you right now!” You say quivering.

“Take it easy dear you are alright but I need you to take a deep breath for me” zayne says stepping forward with her hand stretched out as if tending a skittish animal. “I will just stay away!” You say urging him to get back, zayn understood and stops his pursuit “alright this isn't how I wanted to do this, but since someone forgot to give Caleb the wrong time we have to have this conversation like this” zayne speaks, his words pointed at his irritation towards Caleb who just scoffed “as if you can outsmart me’ he grumbled but was ignored.

“are you aware you are in the game Love and deep space” the doctor asks

“Yes, are you aware you are part of the said game” you answered along with the question of your own.

a beat of silence, “yes” the doctor answers the rest nods.

Before the conversation could continue there was a sound akin to mechanical purr the halts every one and make you climb a random shelf.

“He is here” Xavier announces. While zayne breathes a sigh of relief, Rafayel and Caleb groan and roll their eyes.

“Oh the party started without me? Tsk how mean” deep silky voice, dipped in lust and pleasure booms through the cafe.

Red cunning eyes on you, mirth comes alive in them as he sees you on that shelf, annoyed. skittish and oh so very adorable.

“Ah would you look at that, a real life kitten.”

—

You looked at the five men standing in front of you.

Xavier, the prince, the neighbor. Stands tall desmour wrapped in polished manners and elegance. 

Rafayel, the merman, the artist. Effortless grace and elegance tainted with worry.

Caleb, the fallen soldier, the childhood friend. If strength and intensity was a person it was him.

Zayne, the messenger, the doctor. Stands there radiating aura of serenity AND Reliability.

Last but definitely not the least. 

Sylus, the dragon, the underworld lord and ally. A beautiful combination of power and passion.

And then there was you.

Simple and unremarkable you.

—

“So let me get this straight” you spoke after a whole session of zayne breaking down the reality to you, as all six of you sit together on the table, three table joined together so that the five stupidly large men can sit on one side and you the other since you refused to sit with any of them. It looked like you were being interviewed by a board of something elite, a modeling agency or by a network of powerful men looking for disposable minion.

“you are telling me that you have been Aware of your existence as a game character way before the accident” you say.

“Precisely” sylus says taking over the conversation after zayne. Rafayel and Caleb were still not allowed to talk. Xavier made sure of that.

“You were spying on me?” Your tone was accusatory. “No that's not it, we could only interact when you logged in on the game” sylus says casually but something in your heart wasn't convinced. “Still why didnt you make me aware should have said something in the chats we had anything” frustration was evident in your tone.

“Oh be for real you wouldn't have beloved us cutie” rafayel said only for Xavier's palm to cover his mouth “what did we say, no talking till she truly gets the entirety of her situation”.

Sylus ignored all that and continued “its true you would have thought its the game talking, and well you wouldn't have suspected it…you know since the beta testing update” sylus ads carefully his he looked laid back but he was ready. To take action if needed. “Wait…no do not tell me” your eyes widen met with sheepish grins

Oh you should have known.

That fucking Beta testing team invite

Of fucking course.

It had started simple, like glitches and bugs. Them acting weird, almost skittish, mc completely glitching out and the LIs acting out of character. They started from looking actually offended at you constant touches to being amused. Quality time becomes a bit more intimate as they tend to stare a lot. The text box got specific ie AND diverse in responses. Something that wasn't happening to others.

Until one day, the game completely blacks out and shuts down for days. Would not even uninstall. You were worried since you had spent a lot of time and money on that game and did not want to lose the progress. And of course that unhealthy attachment to the guys themselves. You emailed Infold, but never heard back.

Just when you lost hope the game was back up new and improved!

When you launched it all happy and giddy you revived an official notice inside the game to become the super VIP beta tester, a compensation for causing you worry.

You signed the fuck up.

It came with an NDA and you did not care. This was the best compensation ever!

And the feature? Whew now you can have actual chat with the LIs! And interact with them FOR REAL.

Technology am I right?!?!

If you only knew….

___

“So I wasn't talking to mindless bots but actually you guys” you exasperated AMD earned solmem nods.

“I know it's a lot to take in, that's why I, as your official doctor, suggested we should give you a day or two.” zayne sys only to be shut down by Xavier “no she is here in a new world the sooner she is aware of her situation the better or it could be dangerous” he says.

“I actually agree with the bunny for once.” Caleb says 

“Okay no one asked you Bucky” rafayel cuts in between earning a glare from the purpled-eyed man who was quick to grab his collar.

“alright that's enough” syylus says With a finality in his tone as he gets up “she had enough excitement for one day look how pale she is” he said motioning towards you.

“No I am okay, I need more answers. I am not done with my questioning” you say, as stubborn as always. “How did I get here? Where is mc? what am I supposed to-Mmph” zayne silenced you with a pastry he produced from who knows where.

“All your questions will be answered one by one please take care of your health for now, sylus is right you have enough excitement for one day” he says also standing up, the rest naturally followed.

The doctor's keen eyes could already see the protest forming on your lips.

“You will be no help to yourself if you are sickly, you don't work well after burn out” he says, making your words die in your mouth, this guy actually knew you.

They actually knew you.

“So what now” she asked awkwardly “am I like? MC now? Do I fight wanderes?”

“Nope”

“You don't have too”

“Absolutely not I have seen your skills, subpar at best”

“if you really want to feel the thrill of taking a life I can arrange that in a controlled environment sweetie”

They all glared at Sylus who only had a casual smirk on his face, ready to fulfill any of your whims.

Xavier who had yet to comment moved close to you, his warm hand and pretty blue eyes brought you sort of calmness you had felt only so rarely “I get it starlight, you feel overwhelmed and all I have requested few days off on your behalf from the quarters take it fully process everything” once again you felt your body relax in his presence “thank you Xavier I promise I will do my best to be a good hunter” no way in hell you are going to sit around and to nothing when you have a chance to kick ass.

 “Okay romeo step back” AMD suddenly rafayel was in the middle of you two. “I just want to let you know you don't have to stress to much we are not connected to the game anymore, we have separate ourselves from the mainframe and there is nothing you should be worried about doing all that battle and stuff” he says “thank you rafayel but I kind of want to, but I'd be careful” she says and he only nods knowing you won't change your mind.

“so this uhm- world is separated from the rest of the game?” You ask to clarify and Caleb was the one who answered “yep realized, we can't truly communicate with you until and unless we have been separate out entirely so we rewrote the whole thing” he says and you won't deny it sounded impressive “wow the whole thing? Thats kinda cool that you did that”

“For you sweetie, anything” voice belonging to sylus spoke, suddenly from behind you. His words had you blushing hard. The man before you smiled “and here I thought I'd never actually get to see it” caleb, sighs his head tilted as he just studies you from his place.

You had to clear your throat to calm the Raving butterflies in your stomach. “ERM so like no updates and all” you tried to steer back the topic to safe yourself further embarssment “mhm none”

“So what about the 6th LI”

Your words caused a heavy silence and instant regret, they looked mildly offended and mostly pitiful. Except for zayne who just deadpans giving you a once over “why? Are five men not enough to sate you?”

Somebody delete me right now.

You were so flustered and embarrassed you choked on your words dissolving the tension into amusement. Cursing yourself in your head you began walking towards the door to escape.

“You know what I should go it's late I am kind of tired and hungry and like Xavier said I really need to like process and all so like yeah thanks for the meltdown-I mean breakdown I guess I will see you around-” you were cut off you bumped straight into the glass door, none of the guys bothered to even shuffle their laugh, even zayne grinned at the sight “I wish I could just delete myself” you grumble 

“You aren't going anywhere kitten, you don't even know where we are or how to get back” sylus says grabbing his leather jacket and helmet “I'll drop you, besides Mondays are mine” he says smugly making Caleb groan “I did not agree to that time table” he sya “no one cares, the rest did” zayne replies, which made him huff.

“Wait what time table” you asked

“We came up with a time table we each get to hang out with you without the interruption from others” sylus answered “Monday is mine”.

“I got Tuesday” rafayel says “so tommorw I'll show you my painting and you can tell me how much you love them” he says sound genuinely excited and you couldn't help but match the energy.

“I got Wednesday since thats when I have normally nothing scheduled” zayne says “that day is reserved entirely for you now” he says making you feel warm 

“I got Thursday, nobody likes Thursday” Caleb says huffing again and you couldn't help but grin at his petulant look “I would like Thursday if I get to spend it with you” the moment you said it you witnessed a grown man turned into a puppy before he could wag his tail Xavier cuts him off “And I hot Friday!” he said “not for any particular reason but because you on time said it was your favorite day” he says and you could obviously see what he was trying to do.

You smiled at them already feeling better while being surrounded by their genuine adoration for you. One that couldn't be fake “oh you…I can't believe I am almost glad I slipped into coma” you say chuckling to your self unaware of the wave of unease and confusion the washed over them but before they could speak zayne reaches out to pat your head “go with sylus and rest okay” he says, changing the topic instantly “yeah pipsqueak get some rest” even Caleb joined in on it, and Sylus did not waste a second to guide you out to his bike.

“So she doesn't know”.

CHAPTER 3: THE VESSEL.

oh look at you, such a pretty flower. So easy to pluck from the root planted into another. I won't deny it was so delicious to see you crumble, so ridiculous to see you fascinated and absolutely hilarious to see you flustered. Such entertainment.

For me

Sweet girl, do you love it? Bathing in their attention, just as you oh so desperately wanted, hmm. Are you happy now? Far from your world and into the unknown, does that make that heart of yours fill with excitement.

Finally, finally you are important. Something that can not be overlooked. something actually needed.

You wanted to be me! Isn't that what your ungrateful self wanted? To ditch the life you had and be pixelated. Wasn't it fun to play with me? Use me and then be fucking envious of me? Your vessel.

I guess you should thank me for fulfilling your dream.

To make you so important for a world that it would die without you. Well now you have it, it's now your burden to bear.

I could have just let you go…

Let that pathetic life end right there. What good did you make of it anyway, if all you end up doing was be jealous pixelated one? Likes of you don't deserve the gift of free will. It should have been me instead.

I wanted to know what freedom tastes like, what it's like to do things on your own accord, to have full control of your body, to speak what you must but no.

All I got was scripted words to repeat, forced interaction with those mumbling fools who somehow fell for you, why?

just because you were real? With real laughter, real joy and real tears?.

As your perfect vessel who had it all I brought you here on this plane of existence, with my resonance and energy manipulation borrowed from the glorified lizard. I held on to that soul, energy so strong and powerful that for a moment all I wanted was to have it all to myself.

My freedom.

My body.

My words.

Sucks that I couldn't, not entirely at least, but it did help me tear away from this suffocating existence, reducing me to…

Hah!

I am still nothing.

Fuck !

There is a price to pay for every wish, and when the time comes I will be back to collect the penance.

Because I deserve it, I get to have my entertainment too. Now we both can play together.

AN: dang its long. Anyways I hope you like it I have currently so many ideas hoi g through my brain right now, there us so much I want to do with it. The fic is inspired by the follow I g idea I had. Hopefully you like it, ideas AMD criticism are welcome if its constructive and creative.

[adalindofcabinsix]

that kind of love never dies (II)

summary: the one where jake realizes the complexity of a supposedly simple plan.

pairing: jake x mc

word count: 1.4K

warnings: tkolnd takes place after the events of episode 10; cover images found on pinterest; english is not my first language.

author’s note: i love this chapter. it was so much fun to write jake's first meeting with mc. the game left many unresolved questions and i will try to answer them based on the information we already have and a little imagination.

masterlist

Without any hesitation, he nodded. There was no point in lying now, not after everything they had done to get Hannah back. And, even if it bothered him a little, Barbara had won his trust.

“A penny for your thoughts.” The hacker asked, seeing the confusion in her eyes.

“What are you doing here?”

“It's a long story.”

“I have time.” She crossed her arms over her chest, waiting.

Jake took a deep breath to calm himself. They definitely didn't have time. However, he knew he would need to do his best to make her trust him again.

“Long story short, an old alert from Nym-0s showed results yesterday saying that you bought a plane ticket to Switzerland. Since the airport was close to Duskwood, I thought I'd better investigate.”

“Have you been following me since New York?”

“Not exactly, I bought a nonstop flight from Tokyo to Zurich.”

“Why didn't you tell me who you were when we bumped into each other at the airport?”

He hated the fact that his tone was more hurt than angry. Jake opened his mouth to apologize, then closed it. Looking over her shoulder, he noticed the presence of a hooded figure standing in front of the open door of the chinese restaurant, hunching his shoulders against the pouring rain.

Barbara's cell phone immediately started ringing with a call. Frowning, she reached for the device inside her bag, and Jake didn't need to understand portuguese to know what was written on the screen.

“Unknown number?”

“Yes.” She lifted her head, meeting Jake's eyes.

“Great.” He said ironically, taking the cell phone from her hand and sliding his finger to the left to reject the call. “Come on, I'll explain everything to you on the road.”

“All right.” Barbara answered, allowing Jake to lead the way. “But if you're lying about who you are, I'll break your nose.”

“It's fair.”

The hacker kept walking , and she ran to keep up with him, dodging a puddle of water. Two minutes later, they stopped in front of a gray Mercedes-Benz crowned with a red convertible roof parked behind the Gates Hotel.

“Please tell me it’s not stolen.”

“It's not stolen!” Jake looked at her offended, opening the passenger door.

“Sorry! It's just that in my mind you were poor. Which, when you think about it, doesn't make sense, right? How would you do everything you do without money?”

“You are impossible, Barbara.” He shook his head in disbelief.

“I can't be impossible, Jake, I exist.” She replied, rolling her eyes theatrically. “I think you meant that I'm unbelievable.”

“Get in the car straight away.” He ordered, but he was smiling, his eyes filled with something like pleasure.

“I have some questions.” Barbara announced when they stopped at a red light.

“Of course you have.” Jake smiled amusedly, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel.

“Earlier, at the airport, was our meeting on purpose?”

“Yes. I couldn't risk my position by tracking you via cell phone so I had to be creative.”

“Something tells me you're the type to put trackers in people's favorite coat pockets.” She was surprised when he didn't deny it. “Seriously?” Barbara scoffed, rubbing her hands down her arms.

“That worked, didn't it?” He said, undoing his seat belt. “Here, you must be cold.”

Before Barbara could object, Jake took off the leather jacket he was wearing and handed it towards her.

“Thank you, Jake.” She accepted the offer, her cheeks blushing beautifully as she quickly looked away from the defined muscles that were marked by the white t-shirt.

“You're welcome.” He looked straight ahead again, covering his mouth with the back of his left hand to hide a smile of pure satisfaction.

He looked straight ahead again, covering his mouth with the back of his left hand to hide a smile of pure satisfaction.

“Were you in Tokyo this whole time?” Barbara questioned, placing the jacket over her shoulders.

“Tokyo, New Delhi, Manila... I needed to keep myself busy so I didn't think about you too much.”

“I'm unforgettable, aren't I?”

“Too unforgettable for your own good.” He agreed, replacing his belt and accelerating the car to get them moving again.

She sighed loudly.

“Yeah, I guess that explains why the FBI won't leave me alone.”

“What?”

“You have no idea why I'm here, do you?”

“Considering who I saw at the chinese restaurant, I think I might have an idea.”

“They sent some messages yesterday, inviting me to that same restaurant we talked about last time. The writing was very similar to yours, but it wasn't the same.”

“You knew it wasn't me and you came anyway?”

“We had an agreement, and as a future lawyer, I couldn't let them get away with this so easily.”

“What was your plan?” He waited for an answer, but Barbara just shrugged. “What? Didn't you have one?”

“We brazilians work better under pressure.”

Jake had to stop himself from giving her an irritated look.

“Well, at least this time the FBI is innocent.”

“What do you mean?”

“Old habits never die, right? I figured something was wrong when you didn't go directly to Duskwood, so I accessed the security cameras around the hotel and watched the footage from the past two days.”

“Did you find anything?”

“Nothing too out of the ordinary, but there was one guy who caught my attention. I think I've seen him before. Anyway, I've run his face through facial recognition software and will have confirmation by the end of the night.” He met her eyes, his expression becoming serious. “Barbara, do you understand how…”

“Stupid to come here alone without knowing what I would face? Yes, the reality is starting to knock. In my defense, I would never imagine that someone from the outside could have access to our conversations.”

“Breaking into the FBI database is complicated, but not impossible. This guy was supposed to be looking for information about me and ended up finding you along the way. I'm sorry for bringing you into this.”

She made a nonchalant gesture, dismissing his apologies.

“You're only here because I was impulsive and played my role as a decoy very well, so I think we can say we're even.”

“I will always be in your debt.” Jake declared softly, weaving through traffic with ease.

The rest of the trip flew by, and the next thing he knew, he was parking near the Aurora's curb.

“What are we doing here?” Barbara looked at him uneasily, her voice sounding louder.

“I need to drop you off somewhere safe before I go back to get my gear from the hotel I'm staying at.”

“A bar is the last place I would think of, I have to admit.”

Jake snorted.

“As much as you approve, we only came here to get Jessica's address.”

“I thought you gathered information on all of us when Hannah was kidnapped.”

“I did, but Jessica moved out a few months after Richy got arrested. And since the FBI is monitoring activity around your friends' digital data, I'm forced to do this the hard way.”

“You mean... Talking?”

“Talking to Phil.”

She stifled a laugh.

“You can wait in the car if you want.”

“I'm not leaving you alone with this guy.” He rolled his eyes, stepping out into the drizzle that was decreasing with each second.

“In that case, why not go to Lilly or Dan?” Barbara commented, carefully slamming the car door. “I'm sure it would be less unpleasant for you.”

“I don't want others to know I'm in town.” Jake said, stopping beside her under the bar's canopy. “Not yet.”

“You're avoiding your sisters, aren't you?”

“It is complicated.”

“I know it's none of my business, but they'd be happy to hear from you. Especially Lilly.”

“Since when have you been Lilly's defender?”

“Believe me, I'm as surprised as you are.” Barbara laughed, brushing an invisible speck of dust off her dress. “How do I look?”

Jake analyzed her from head to toe for a few moments, seeing the way Barbara's hair fell over her arm in messy locks, how her smudged mascara highlighted the beauty of her light brown eyes, and how her dress, almost completely dry, outlined each centimeter of her body.

“Beautiful.”

“I'm serious, Jake!”

“Me too.” He smiled adoringly, intertwining his fingers with hers. “Come on, I don't want to prolong this any longer than necessary.”

taglist: @daniiiworlds; @labemquarts; @deinily

[harunayuuka2060]

*While Malleus and the others were mourning the fake Kalim, Vil and Azul had already begun formulating a plan to escape. They were aware of its limitations, however, and knew there were still details they needed to confirm.*

Vil: We should take advantage of this opportunity while those doppelgangers aren’t on our trail. Azul: If the Prefect’s doppelganger managed to sneak Kalim out and kill the fake one... I wonder if they’ll try the same with the others. Vil: I doubt it. You can’t use the same trick twice. Azul: Still, to think there’s a way to escape without participating in the hunt... Vil: Could it be that there are other locations, aside from this place, where the doppelgangers can’t enter? Azul: Hmm...

Riddle: *approaching* Azul, Vil-senpai, what are you two discussing? Vil: We’re trying to figure out a way to escape from here.

Idia: *who had been quietly listening* How about using me as a starting point?

Vil, Azul, and Riddle: *turn to Idia with wide eyes*

Idia: You just need to know if there are places similar to this one, right? Azul: Yes… But are you sure about this, Idia? You’re not exactly known for your bravery. Idia: Wow, thanks for the vote of confidence, Azul.

Riddle: But what about the MC— I mean, the fake Prefect… How are we going to inform them? Vil: There’s no need for that. They can act on their own. Besides, I doubt we have any privacy in that room to begin with. Azul: Still, blatantly exposing our plans is out of the question.

Idia: We can pretend to be distraught over Kalim’s death. I’m not an actor, but I’m fairly confident in my acting skills. Azul: I see… What about you, Riddle?

Riddle: ... Riddle: I think I’ll stay behind with Malleus-senpai and Leona-senpai for now.

Idia: So I’ll go first, then Azul and Vil… Vil: No, we don’t know if the fake Prefect can determine the order. But you, Idia, make sure they take you out of here first. Idia: Got it.

Azul: We still have some time before the hunt begins. This plan should work.

Azul: This… I never thought it would come to this… Vil(?): You took me for a fool. Rook(?): It seems he has forgotten that you have loyal servants by your side.

Azul:* coughing up blood* (I shouldn’t have trusted that fake Prefect completely…)

Vil(?): They serve me. They will do whatever I say. MC(?): *stares at Azul with glassy eyes* Vil(?): Kill him and bring his heart to me. MC(?): Yes, my Queen.

Azul: (So this is my end…) Azul: Huh?

Vil(?): Rook… Rook(?): My apologies. *chuckles as he pierces his chest with his bare hand, squeezing his heart inside*

Vil(?): Why…? MC(?): I made a fair trade with him. Vil(?): What…? But… You… You would never betray me… MC(?): ... MC(?): Only this once… I’ll never do it again.

Rook(?): You should hurry, my dear. You still need to save the other Vil. MC(?): *approaches Azul and makes him drink something*

Azul: *immediately feels better* Huh? Is that a healing potion? MC(?): *nods* MC(?): Please stay here while I go get Vil Schoenheit. Whatever you do, don’t leave this room.

Azul: But! Won’t he attack me?! *glances nervously at Rook(?)* MC(?): We made a trade. He won’t lay a finger on you. Rook(?): *chuckles* That’s right.

Azul(?): I see now... They’ve decided to conspire against us.

Vil: ...

Azul(?): You must be really disappointed that they brought you here. Of course, it might be because I was never strong enough to stand against Vil... But you’re not him.

Vil: (Was that really the reason?)

Azul(?): If I kill you here, your plan will fail... and the others who remain will be punished severely.

Vil: ...

Vil: (Fake potato mentioned not to provoke him.)

Azul(?): *seems to be pondering about something*

Vil: ...

Vil: (Wait. Could it be...)

Vil: You... You are in love with the Prefect of this world.

Azul(?): ...

Azul(?): *his gaze sharpens*

Vil: *smirks* Poor thing. Was it unrequited?

Azul(?): ...

Vil: *laughs*

Vil: You must be wondering how I figured it out. Well, it was quite obvious. You would have killed me the moment I stepped in, but you hesitated. You don’t want to hurt them by killing me.

Vil: And you, among all the others, were the only one who expressed complete disdain toward us.

Azul(?): ...

Vil: Say, what is it you like about them? Maybe I can help you out?

Azul(?): *throws a knife at him, narrowly missing his face by an inch*

Vil: !!!

Azul(?): Silence.

Vil: ...

Azul(?): I shouldn't care at all. Their smile will never return... They have been ruined. It's all been ruined—

MC(?): Azul...

Azul(?): Ah. So you are here at last.

MC(?): ...

MC(?): I have come to pick him up.

Azul(?): I'm not letting him leave here alive.

MC(?): ...

MC(?): *approaches him slowly, gently cupping his cheeks with their hands and resting their forehead against his*

Azul(?): ...

MC(?): Please let us go for now. I’ll come back, and then we can talk.

Azul(?): ...

Azul(?): I understand.

Vil: (That easily?)

MC(?): We have arrived.

Azul: It was a close call.

Vil: Potato, are you and the other Azul—

MC(?): ...

MC(?): We used to be lovers.

Azul: Huh??

Vil: I see. I hope you two will resolve the issue.

Azul: What's going on?

MC(?): Please hand me your keys.

Azul: ...

Vil: *hands his and Azul's too*

Azul: By the way, the other Vil...

MC(?): ...

MC(?): Leona(?) is waiting outside. You should go.

Vil: What?

MC(?): I'm afraid the remaining ones will have to join the hunt.

Azul: But Riddle—

MC(?): I betrayed them. They will ask me to participate too.

MC(?): I will do my best to defend your friends.

Vil: It's a good thing you have someone who can support you.

MC(?): *knows that the existence of Leona(?) outside means Azul(?) has already been killed*

MC(?): Yes...

Vil: We will also do our best to get them out from the other side. Until then, please.

MC(?): *bows their head*

MC(?): I shall do as commanded.

Leona(?): Heh. Now things have become exciting.

[writingsoftarnishedsilver]

*insert Elmo in flames meme*

Ahhhh! I'd be happy to give you some Ominis fic ideas 😁🩷 of course, you could just scrap this altogether but I was thinking 🤔 could we have a 7th year Ominis being able to gain financial freedom from his family because MC gave her Hogsmeade shop to him? I know a lot of people want him to escape to America but Hogsmeade just feels so cozy and perfect for him being a shopkeeper.

And MC realizing her feelings for him during one instance when she had to return to him to replenish her supplies from her travels, and maybe decides it's time to be with him? 😣💕

It's okay if you don't like this plotline but I just finished the Haunted Hogsmeade quest, and I immediately thought of Ominis being its owner!

Thank you so much!!

Threads of Fate | Ominis Gaunt x Reader

Anon, I hope this is everything you hoped for! Thank you for the request and inspiration <3 it was my absolute pleasure writing this.

Words: ~6,700

Tags: Reader Insert, Female MC, No Y/N, Post Canon, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Romance, Fluff, Fluff AGAIN

“You’d think after all these years I’d be better at writing letters, but somehow, I still find myself pausing, trying to decide how to start. Then again, you always make it easier when you write first. Your last letter was… exactly what I needed. You have a knack for saying the right thing, even when you don’t realize it.”

“Anne stopped by the shop recently. She told me to stop ‘hovering like a nervous bird’ over your enchanted scarves and to start charging more for them. Apparently, she’s appointed herself my business manager, whether I wanted one or not. She also asked about you—how you’re doing, where you are, why you haven’t written her back, and, most importantly, when you’re finally coming home. I told her I didn’t know, but she was unimpressed by my answer. Honestly, I’m not impressed either.”

“Sebastian, meanwhile, has decided that I’ve become too boring for his liking. He keeps trying to convince me to pack up and visit you, as though I could just leave the shop to run itself. His words, not mine. It’s ridiculous, of course, but I wonder if there’s something to it. You’ve been gone so long now, it’s hard not to feel like there’s a part of this place missing.”

“Speaking of which—are you planning to come back anytime soon? You told me six months, and that was, what, six months ago? You’re not terrible at keeping promises, but you’re testing the limits here. I’ll forgive you if you write soon with some good news—or better yet, with the promise of coming home.”

“The shop is still standing, though I’ve made a few small changes here and there. I hope you won’t scold me when you see them. It’s funny, even when you’re not here, I find myself thinking, ‘What would she do?’ And sometimes, I swear I can hear your voice, usually chiding me for something I’ve misplaced or forgotten. I wonder—did you know, even then, how much this shop would mean to me? …Did you know how much you mean to me?”

“Take care of yourself, won’t you? Though I doubt I need to remind you. You’ve always been reckless, but you’ve never been careless. But I can’t help worrying about you—it’s impossible not to.”

“Write soon, or better yet, come home. I’d like to see you again. I’d like to… well, there’s plenty I’d like to say in person.”

Yours, always, Ominis

The letter, over a month old now, was worn at the edges, its parchment soft from being folded and unfolded too many times. Your fingers traced the familiar loops of Ominis’ handwriting, lingering over the slight smudge where his quill must have hesitated.

Even as the train carried you closer to Hogsmeade, you felt guilty. You hadn’t written back. But you hadn’t trusted yourself to put quill to parchment, not even to Anne or Sebastian, neither of whom could be trusted to keep your long awaited return a secret.

Six months. You’d promised him six months, and here you were, long past that mark. You’d wanted to return sooner—Merlin knew how much you’d wanted to—but there had always been one more ruin, one more curse to break, one more excuse to stay away.

It wasn’t just the work, though. The truth you hadn’t dared admit to yourself was that the thought of walking into Stitches and Draughts again, of seeing Ominis after all this time, terrified you. What if things had changed? What if the delicate balance of your friendship—of your stupid, traitorous feelings for him—had changed?

Merlin knew you had.

You caught your reflection in the train’s window, and for a moment, it felt like looking at a stranger. The girl you once were, the one with the boundless energy and effortless grace of youth, was nowhere to be found. Gone was the lithe figure and carefree ease that had come with an 18-year-old’s metabolism, replaced by a version of yourself you were still learning to accept. The life of a cursebreaker hadn’t been kind to your body—or your soul. Years of chasing dangerous leads, grueling physical labor, and long nights spent deciphering ancient scripts had taken their toll. Meals were often hurried, whatever you could grab between assignments, and the relentless travel left little room for rest. You were softer now, and your body bore the marks of your journey—an ache in your shoulders from carrying too much weight, faint scars from brushes with danger, and an exhaustion that felt carved into your very bones.

You turned away from the window, forcing your reflection out of sight. The sight of it only dredged up insecurities you had no business indulging—not now, not when you were so close. It was stupid to worry about it, you told yourself. What did it matter whether Ominis found you attractive? Seven years had passed. Seven years of separate lives, separate paths. You couldn’t expect him to still see you as he once might have—or to have waited for you at all.

Back then, you were just kids, after all. Even when your friendship had danced on the edge of something more, neither of you had ever been brave enough to take that final step. You thought of the moments that had felt like more—his hand brushing yours when you walked side by side, the way he’d linger in the shop late into the night, his head tilted toward you as though he could hear the shape of your smile. But those moments were fleeting, always followed by silence or a change of subject. Neither of you had ever said the words.

And now? Seven years was a long time to expect someone to wait for something that was never truly spoken aloud.

Still, the thought haunted you, gnawing at your resolve. Would he notice the changes in you? Would he care about the extra softness to your curves, the faint lines of exhaustion that hadn’t been there before? The idea that he might—that he’d look at you with anything less than the quiet warmth you remembered—made your stomach twist.

The train jolted, pulling you from your spiraling thoughts as it slowed to a screeching halt at Hogsmeade Station. The sound of the brakes, sharp and familiar, was like a spell breaking. You rose stiffly from your seat, clutching your bag as you tried to gather yourself.

The platform was just as you remembered it: bustling with witches and wizards, steam curling in the crisp air, and the faint smell of coal mingling with the fresh, wintry scent of snow. Twinkling fairy lights hung from the lampposts, casting a warm glow on the frosted cobblestones, while festive garlands of holly and enchanted mistletoe draped along the edges of the station roof. You adjusted the strap of your bag and stepped off the train, your boots crunching against the frost-dusted ground.

The walk into the village was surreal, like stepping back into a dream you hadn’t dared let yourself miss too much. The bustling streets, the cheerful glow of the shop windows, the distant chatter of students—every detail tugged at something deep inside you. It looked the same, as though no time had passed, and yet that was precisely what unsettled you.

Time had passed. Seven years, to be exact.

Seven years since you’d walked these streets as a Hogwarts student, clutching a bag of Honeydukes’ sweets or ducking into the Three Broomsticks with your friends to escape the cold. Seven years since you’d stood inside Stitches and Draughts as its owner, turning your ideas into enchanted creations, the room filled with the warmth of softly glowing candles and the sound of laughter. Seven years since you’d worked side by side with Ominis, his sharp wit cutting through Sebastian’s dramatic tales of Quidditch triumphs, all while the three of you shared late nights in the shop as though the world outside didn’t exist.

But even then, you’d known the shop wasn’t meant to be your forever.

The decision to give it to Ominis had come in the quiet months of your seventh year, after countless conversations where he’d confided in you about his family, his fears, and the cage he felt he could never escape. You’d listened as he spoke of the suffocating expectations of the Gaunt name, how every aspect of his life had been dictated by tradition and duty.

And money.

It wasn’t fair. Ominis deserved more than that. Far, far more.

Your Ominis deserved everything.

The idea had taken root during one of those late nights in the shop. He’d been helping you charm a batch of scarves to repel rain when you’d caught him standing at the counter, running his hands over the worn wood. There’d been a wistful look on his face, one that had stayed with you long after the candles were extinguished and the shop had gone dark.

By the time graduation loomed, the decision felt inevitable.

You still remembered the day you handed him the deed, the way his pale fingers trembled as he unrolled the parchment. His expression had been unreadable at first, his face carefully composed as he scanned the document.

“What is this?” he’d asked, his voice low and wary.

“It’s yours,” you’d replied, keeping your tone light even as your heart pounded. “The shop. Everything in it. Consider it a… graduation gift.”

The silence that followed had been deafening. Ominis had stared at you, his brow furrowing in confusion.

“You can’t be serious,” he’d said finally. “This is yours. Your work. You can’t just—”

“I can,” you’d interrupted, placing a hand over his. “And I am. You’re the only one I trust to take care of it. To make it more than I ever could.”

He’d tried to argue, of course. Ominis always argued. But you’d stood your ground, knowing in your heart it was the right choice.

“It’s not just about the shop,” you’d said softly, looking into his unseeing eyes. “It’s... about giving you a way out. A chance to build something that’s yours—not theirs.”

That had silenced him.

He’d accepted the deed reluctantly, his gratitude laced with disbelief. And though you hadn’t admitted it aloud, you’d known you were giving him more than just the shop. More than just securing his freedom. You were giving him a part of yourself, a way to stay connected even when you left.

And now, as Christmas loomed all these years later, your legs carried you through the village, back to that very same place. You were almost on autopilot, even as your heart pounded erratically in your chest with every step that brought you closer to the shop. Around you, the village bustled with holiday cheer, but all of it faded into the background, a distant hum drowned out by the sound of your own heartbeat.

And then you were there.

And Stitches and Draughts looked beautiful.

The building had been freshly painted, its trim gleaming with a soft, snowy white that contrasted perfectly with the deep emerald of the shop’s sign—still the same one you’d painted years ago, but lovingly restored. The doorframe was draped with enchanted holly garlands, the bright red berries twinkling like tiny stars. The windows sparkled in the glow of lights strung carefully along the eaves, and the front display was nothing short of magical.

Inside the glass, enchanted scarves floated gracefully in midair, their threads shimmering with subtle, festive embroidery—snowflakes that danced along the hems, holly leaves that twisted and turned like they were caught in a gentle breeze. Beside them, self-heating gloves sat arranged in neat little bundles, their tags tied with golden ribbons that seemed to hum faintly with charmwork.

It was perfect. Too perfect. And the sight of it, so familiar and yet so undeniably different, had your heart aching in your chest. This wasn’t just a shop anymore—it was his shop. Every detail spoke of Ominis’ care, his precision, his thoughtfulness. He’d taken what you’d built and turned it into something so much more.

Your grip tightened on the strap of your bag as your eyes flicked between the display and the freshly polished door handle. The urge to turn and flee surged through you, but your feet remained rooted to the spot. You’d faced cursed ruins, ancient traps, and magic designed to kill, but nothing—nothing—had ever felt as daunting as the prospect of walking through that door.

Would he even want to see you? Would he welcome you after all this time, after the months of silence and unfulfilled promises? Or had the years widened the distance between you too far to bridge?

The bell above the door jingled as someone exited the shop, their arms laden with carefully wrapped packages. They offered you a polite smile as they passed, but you barely noticed, your gaze fixed on the door that had swung closed behind them.

Your legs felt heavy as you took a hesitant step forward. Then another.

With a deep, unsteady exhale, you pushed the door open, the familiar chime of the bells above echoing like a memory brought to life.

The warmth of the shop enveloped you immediately, the scent of cedar and lavender mingling with something faintly sweet—probably from a batch of enchanted candles near the counter. Shelves lined the walls, filled with bolts of fabric, potion bottles, and racks of neatly displayed scarves and gloves. The hum of magic thrummed softly in the air, a comforting, familiar sound.

But none of it mattered, not really.

Your eyes were drawn to the figure standing behind the counter, his back to you, the blond of his hair catching the golden light.

"Be with you in a moment," he said, his voice smooth and warm, but it hit you like a jolt of lightning.

It had been so long—too long—since you’d last heard his voice, and even now, it was exactly as you remembered, richer with age but still undeniably Ominis. It overwhelmed you, the weight of it pressing down on the breath you tried to draw, stealing the words you’d thought you’d prepared.

And then he turned.

The sight of him was truly your undoing.

Ominis was taller than you remembered, his frame lean but strong, elegant but unyielding. He was wearing a soft sweater in a deep charcoal gray, the fabric snug across his broad shoulders and loose around his narrow waist, the sleeves pushed up just enough to reveal the sharp angles of his wrists and the pale skin of his forearms. His blond hair, a touch longer than it had been when you’d last seen him, was still combed back, though a strand at the front had fallen to rest against the curve of his face.

Time had only refined the sharpness of his cheekbones and the strong, angular line of his jaw. His features were striking in a way that felt almost unfair, the kind of beauty that drew the eye and held it captive.

And yet, there was something softer about him, too—something that hadn’t been there before. The rigid tension that had so often defined him in your Hogwarts years seemed less pronounced, replaced by a quiet ease as he worked. He looked… content.

It was too much.

You’d imagined this reunion a hundred different ways, but none of them had accounted for the way it would feel to see him again, to hear his voice, to stand so close and yet feel the weight of all the time and space that had separated you.

“My apologies for the delay. Welcome to Stitches and Draughts,” he said, his tone polite and practiced, yet warm in a way that made your chest ache. He tilted his head slightly, as though listening more intently. “What can I help you with today?”

The words hung in the air, impossibly ordinary for a moment that felt anything but.

You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. All the carefully rehearsed greetings, the lighthearted explanations you’d planned for why it had taken so long to return, evaporated.

Your silence stretched just a second too long, and you saw the faint furrow of his brow, the slight tilt of his head as he picked up on your hesitation.

“Are you alright?” he asked, his voice softening, concern creeping into his tone.

That was what finally broke you.

“Ominis,” you managed, your voice trembling despite your best efforts to steady it.

His lips parted as though to say something, but no words came, and his sightless eyes, usually so calm and focused, seemed to search for you in the space between.

“Is it—” he began, his voice barely above a whisper, trembling at the edges. “Is… it really you?”

Tears pricked at your eyes, hot and relentless. You nodded before realizing he couldn’t see the gesture.

“It’s me,” you managed.

Ominis moved before you could register it, stepping out from behind the counter with a swiftness that made your breath catch. “You’re here,” he murmured, his voice filled with something close to wonder. “You’re actually here. But you… you didn’t write back. I thought—”

“I know,” you said quickly, guilt flooding your chest. “I’m sorry, Ominis. I—” Your voice faltered. How could you possibly explain everything? The silence, the distance, the fear?

Before you could try, Ominis closed the gap between you. His hands reached out, tentatively searching, as though he were afraid to reach out and find nothing there. When his fingers brushed against your sleeve, he inhaled sharply, and then his hands moved upward, settling on your shoulders.

You watched as his expression crumbled. The carefully constructed composure he’d always worn fell away, replaced by something raw and unguarded.

“You’re home,” he said, his voice trembling. “How long have you been planning this?”

The crack in his voice broke something inside you. “I… for months,” you whispered, your own voice shaking. “I'm so sorry, it took so long—”

Your words were cut off again as Ominis pulled you into him, strong arms wrapping around you with a desperate urgency, his hands firm against your back as if he were afraid to let go, afraid you might slip away again. The suddenness of it made you stiffen, your insecurities flaring instantly to life.

He’d know.

He’d feel the difference—the softness of your curves where you’d once been lithe, the weight you carried now, both physical and emotional. The image of what you’d been years ago, the version of you he might still hold in his mind, clashed violently with the reality of who you were now.

But then there was the feel of him.

Him, warm against you, the steady rise and fall of his chest, the faint scent of his characteristic cologne—it was all so achingly familiar, so Ominis, that you couldn’t bring yourself to care about the way you’d changed.

Tears spilled freely down your cheeks as you let yourself sink into his chest, your arms lifting to wrap around his waist. You clung to him, the years of distance and silence collapsing between you as if they’d never existed.

His hand moved gently, brushing over your hair in a soothing rhythm that made your heart ache. “I missed you hopelessly.” He murmured, his voice muffled by your hair

“I missed you more than anything,” you murmured, pulling back just enough to look up at him, tears still streaming freely down your cheeks. “I thought about you every day.”

Ominis pulled back slightly, his hands still resting lightly on your shoulders. His sightless eyes searched your face as though he could somehow see you, the corners of his mouth twitching into the faintest of smiles. You felt his thumb brush against your sleeve, as if he needed the tactile confirmation that you were truly there. One of his hands slid down to grasp yours, his fingers curling firmly around yours as if to anchor you both in this moment.

For a long, breathless second, neither of you spoke.

Then, without a word, Ominis turned toward the shop’s entrance, your hand still firmly in his. He moved quickly, his steps sure as he crossed the space to the door. Releasing your hand only briefly, he flipped the sign to Closed and twisted the lock with a decisive click.

“To hell with work,” he muttered under his breath, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

The words caught you off guard, pulling a startled laugh from you—a sound you hadn’t realized you’d been holding back.

When he turned back to you, his expression softened further, though there was still an edge of something you couldn’t quite name in the set of his jaw. Relief, perhaps. Or the determination of someone who wasn’t about to let this moment slip away.

“Come upstairs,” he said, his voice low and steady. “The shop can wait.”

He didn’t give you a chance to argue—not that you would have—before leading you to the small staircase tucked behind the counter. His hand stayed in yours as he guided you, his grip firm but gentle, like he was still afraid to let go.

The stairs creaked faintly under your feet as you followed Ominis into the flat above the shop. The scent of cedar lingered here too, mixed with something faintly herbal—his cologne, no doubt.

“Forgive the state of things,” he said quickly, his tone uncharacteristically self-conscious as he gestured toward the room. “I wasn’t exactly expecting... well, anyone. Least of all you.”

But as your eyes roamed the space, you couldn’t find the “mess” he spoke of. The room was tidy, cozy, and so very him. A small bookshelf stood against one wall, lined with neatly arranged tomes you recognized from your Hogwarts years, alongside a few newer additions. A comfortable-looking armchair sat in one corner, its seat draped with a soft, worn throw blanket. A half empty mug of tea sat forgotten on the small table beside it, next to what appeared to be a half-finished crossword puzzle.

There were small signs of his life everywhere: a folded sweater resting on the back of the chair, a walking stick leaning against the wall by the door, a well-cared-for violin resting in its case near the bookshelf. The window was framed by simple curtains, their edges charmed to shimmer faintly in the light, a detail that felt unmistakably him.

“It’s perfect,” you said, turning to him with a soft smile.

He let out a huff of disbelief. “Hardly. It’s small, and I wasn’t expecting guests, so it’s a bit—”

“No, really,” you insisted, stepping further into the room. “It’s... you. I mean that in the best way.”

His lips parted slightly, as though he wanted to argue, but he seemed to think better of it. Instead, his free hand gestured vaguely at the space. “I haven’t had much reason to bring anyone up here,” he admitted, his tone quieter now. “I usually keep to myself unless Sebastian or Anne drag me out for something."

You turned back to him, catching the faint blush dusting his cheeks as he moved to straighten a few items on the table near the armchair. The sight made your heart ache in the best way, the years falling away as though you’d never been apart.

“It’s nice to see you’ve kept up the crossword habit,” you teased, gesturing toward the table.

Ominis smirked, his confidence returning just enough to quip, “It’s either that or let my mind wander, and we both know that can only lead to trouble.”

You laughed, the sound light and easy, "That's true."

He gestured toward the couch near the window, its cushions plump and inviting. “Sit,” he said, his tone soft but insistent. “I'm sure you’ve been traveling all day.”

You hesitated, still standing near the door, but Ominis stepped closer, his expression gentle. “Please,” he added, his voice quieter now.

With a nod, you set your bag down near the door and crossed to the couch, sinking into its cushions. It was as comfortable as it looked, and you let out a quiet sigh as the tension in your body began to ease.

He moved toward the kitchenette. “Tea?” he asked, his head tilted slightly in your direction.

“Yes, please,” you said quickly, your voice softer than you intended.

Ominis nodded, his movements fluid and purposeful as he filled the kettle and set it on the small stove.

“I’ve got chamomile, mint, and… some Earl Grey that Sebastian swore I’d love but tastes like someone soaked socks in bergamot,” he said, the corner of his mouth quirking into a smirk.

You laughed softly, leaning back into the couch. “Chamomile sounds perfect.”

He nodded, plucking the sachet from its place with an almost practiced precision, his hands moving with the same quiet grace you remembered so vividly. Despite the ease of his movements, you could see the faint tension in the set of his shoulders, the way he hesitated before reaching for the mugs.

"Did Sebastian and Anne know about you coming back?" Ominis asked, his voice calm but carrying a subtle edge of curiosity.

You hesitated, fingers tracing the edge of the couch cushion. "No," you admitted softly. "I didn’t tell anyone. I didn’t… want them to spill the secret. I thought it might be better this way."

He turned slightly, his sightless eyes tilted in your direction, one brow arching faintly. “Better for whom?”

You huffed a humorless laugh, biting your lip. "Me, I guess. I thought if I just showed up, it would be easier. Less... complicated."

Ominis tilted his head slightly, as though weighing your words, his fingers brushing the rim of the mug as he prepared your tea. "You thought sneaking back into Hogsmeade unannounced would be less complicated?"

A faint smile tugged at your lips despite the knot of nerves in your chest. "Okay, maybe not less complicated. But at least it meant I wouldn’t have to explain myself to Sebastian. You know how he gets."

He let out a soft laugh, the sound light and genuine, and it warmed something deep inside you. "Indeed. He is relentless," he said, placing the mug of chamomile tea in front of you on the low table. "Though, I can’t say I’d have been any better. If I’d known you were coming, I wouldn’t have been able to focus on anything else."

You looked up at him, startled by the quiet sincerity in his voice. He wasn’t smiling anymore, his expression open and unguarded as he sat down across from you, his own mug cradled in his hands.

“I didn’t mean to make you wait,” you said softly, your fingers curling around the warm ceramic. “I just—” You paused, your words catching in your throat. "I don't know. I suppose it doesn't matter. I'm here now."

Ominis’ lips pressed together for a moment, his brows furrowing slightly as though he wanted to press further. His hands tightened almost imperceptibly around his mug, the tension in his shoulders betraying his thoughts.

But then he exhaled softly, the lines of his face smoothing as he nodded. “You’re here now,” he repeated, his voice quiet but steady, though you could hear the unspoken for how long? lingering in the air.

You quickly took a sip of your tea, the warmth a welcome distraction as you scrambled for something that would steer the conversation elsewhere. “This tea is lovely,” you said, offering a smile that you hoped looked effortless. “Everything is. The flat, the shop... it’s all incredible. You must be so proud of what you’ve built.”

Ominis tilted his head slightly, his expression softening into something almost amused. “That’s kind of you to say, but I hardly think a well-stocked tea shelf qualifies as incredible.”

You laughed, grateful for the easy banter. “It’s not just the tea shelf, though it is very impressive. The shop looks amazing—I noticed the display when I walked in. And the enchanted holly on the door? It’s such a nice touch. It’s all so... you.”

He leaned back in his chair, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I did have some help with the holly—Anne insisted. She thought it might ‘soften my cold, foreboding reputation.’”

You grinned, picturing Anne bustling around the shop, her infectious energy clashing against Ominis’ quieter demeanor. “I think it works. Though I can’t imagine anyone thinking you’re 'foreboding'.”

“Oh, you’d be surprised,” he said dryly, his smirk deepening. “Anne says I scare away the first years who stop in. Apparently, my ‘stern demeanor’ doesn’t pair well with curious children looking for enchanted scarves.”

You laughed, the image of wide-eyed first-years inching cautiously into the shop playing vividly in your mind. “I’m sure you’re not that bad,” you teased. “Maybe they just don’t appreciate your charm.”

Ominis quirked an eyebrow, his smirk softening. “Charm, is it? I’ll be sure to tell Anne you said that next time she accuses me of being the ‘shopkeeper equivalent of a Boggart.’”

That earned another laugh, lighter this time, and you shook your head. “If she really thought you were a Boggart, she wouldn’t have helped with the decorations.”

“She likes to keep me humble,” he replied, his tone full of wry affection.

But even as Ominis joined in your banter, you could see the way his fingers drummed absently against the side of his mug, his thoughts clearly turning over something unsaid. He was playing along with your attempts at small talk, but you knew he wasn’t fooled.

Still, for now, he let it go, his quiet smile lingering as he said, “So tell me, how does it feel to be back?”

The question caught you off guard, and your smile faltered slightly. “It feels... surreal,” you admitted, your voice softer now. “Like I’ve been gone forever, and yet somehow nothing’s changed.”

Ominis nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Hogsmeade does have a way of staying the same. But you..." He hesitated, and his words hung in the air, unfinished but heavy with meaning.

You’re different.

He had noticed. Of course he had. Ominis was nothing if not perceptive.

You lowered your mug to the table, your hands curling into your lap as if that could somehow steady you. The warmth that had spread through your chest moments ago was now replaced with a twisting unease, a voice in the back of your mind whispering, This is it. This is when he sees what’s changed and decides it isn’t enough. That you aren’t enough.

"I know I’m different," you murmured, your voice trembling under the strain of your nerves. It cracked as you spoke, barely louder than a whisper. "I… I’m not the same person I was when I left. I know I’m not exactly how you remember me, and I—" Your breath faltered, hitching as you shook your head, your thoughts spiraling. "I just didn’t want you to be disappointed."

“Disappointed?” Ominis’ voice broke through your spiraling thoughts like a sudden, sharp wind, and when you looked up, his sightless eyes were fixed on you, his expression taut with something between shock and frustration. "Is this... is this why you've taken so long to come home?"

The question hung in the air, sharp and unrelenting, like the edge of a blade poised to strike. You opened your mouth to answer, but no sound came. The truth was tangled in your chest, knotted with years of insecurity and fear, and the weight of it pressed down on your throat, stealing your voice.

Ominis’ expression softened as he straightened in his chair, his jaw tightening as though he were holding back his own frustration—not at you, but at the very idea that you could feel this way. He exhaled slowly, his fingers tightening around his mug before setting it aside with deliberate care.

“Is that really what you’ve been carrying all this time?” he asked, his voice quieter now, but no less intense. “You thought I’d be... disappointed? In you?”

The lump in your throat grew heavier. "I’ve been gone so long... and you’ve built this incredible life here, and I—” You hesitated, your breath catching as you fought to steady yourself. “I didn’t know if I’d still fit into it.”

“You think I could ever—” He stopped himself, exhaling slowly as he ran a hand through his hair. “Merlin’s beard, don't you have any idea how much of this life exists because of you?”

Ominis leaned forward further, resting his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped tightly together. His fingers curled and uncurled against one another, as though he were searching for the right words. When he finally spoke, his voice was softer, but no less firm.

“Do you know what I thought when you walked into that shop today?” he asked, his words deliberate.

You shook your head, though he couldn’t see it. “No,” you whispered.

“I thought I’d finally woken up from the longest, most frustrating dream of my life,” he said, his lips twitching into a faint, almost self-deprecating smile. "And now, you’re sitting here, telling me you’re afraid I’d notice you’ve changed. Of course you’ve changed. I’d be more worried if you hadn’t. Life does that to people. It changes them. But just because you're different doesn't mean..." he swallowed, his words catching for just a moment before he pressed on, his voice quieter but laced with conviction. “Just because you’ve changed doesn’t mean you’re any less.”

He paused, his fingers tightening where they rested, his knuckles pale with the effort. His expression softened as his words seemed to tumble out, as if he couldn’t hold them back any longer. “That couldn’t be further from the truth, actually.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in his tone, by the faint flush creeping up his neck.

Ominis sat back slightly, his hand running through his hair in a rare display of bashfulness. “It’s been seven years,” he continued, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant. “Seven years, and in the brief time I’ve had to—to touch you, to hear you, to smell that very same perfume you always wear, you’ve only… Merlin, I don’t even know how to say this without sounding foolish.”

You felt your breath hitch, your pulse quickening as his words sank in. He wasn’t looking at you, not exactly, but the intensity in his voice made it feel as though he could see every piece of you, laid bare and vulnerable.

He exhaled slowly, tilting his head slightly in your direction as he gathered his thoughts. “You’ve only improved,” he said finally, his voice low but unwavering. “Despite whatever ridiculous notions you’ve been carrying around, you haven’t diminished. You haven’t become ‘less.’ If anything, you’re... more.”

“You’ve been away, yes," he continued. "You’ve faced things I can only imagine. And yet here you are, sitting in front of me, as strong and resilient and...” He hesitated, his lips curving into a faint, almost shy smile. “As breathtaking as the day you left. You think I’d notice the changes and find fault with them? How could I, when every single one is just another piece of the person I’ve been missing for so long?”

Your hand flew to your mouth, your vision blurring with tears. "Are you... you sure? You really don't have to say this, I—"

He shook his head, raising a hand to stop you, though his touch hovered just shy of reaching across the small space between you. “Of course I'm sure,” he said, his voice soft but insistent. “I’ve never been more certain of anything."

He drew in a slow, measured breath, his shoulders rising and falling as though he were steadying himself for a duel.

“I’ve spent seven years wondering if I’d ever get the chance to say this,” he admitted. “To say all the things I was too much of a coward to admit before you left. And I won’t waste it by letting you believe for even a second that you’re anything less than extraordinary," his voice softened, trembling at the edges as he stood from his chair. For a moment, he simply stood there, his sightless eyes cast downward as though steadying himself for what he was about to do. Then, slowly, he moved forward, kneeling on the floor in front of you with a grace that made your breath catch.

His hands reached out, tentative but deliberate, brushing over yours where they rested in your lap before curling around them.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he said quietly, his voice raw with emotion. “But I need you to hear this. I need you to understand.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but he shook his head, cutting you off gently.

“I love you,” he said, his voice trembling slightly, his thumbs brushing over the backs of your hands. " I’ve loved you for so long that I don’t even remember what it feels like not to. And I know I should’ve said this before. I should’ve told you when we were still at Hogwarts, when you handed me the shop, when you left. But I was scared. Scared of what it would mean, scared I’d ruin what we had. And then you were gone, and I thought… I thought maybe I’d lost my chance.”

You couldn’t speak, couldn’t move, your heart pounding so hard it felt as though it might shatter through your ribs.

“But now you’re here,” he said, his words almost a whisper. “And I can’t let you leave again without knowing how much you mean to me. You are the most extraordinary person I’ve ever known, and I’ve spent seven years building a life that, no matter how complete it might seem from the outside, has always been missing you.”

You stared at him, your breath catching as the world seemed to slow around you. The face you’d waited seven years to see again—its every detail etched into your memory but now somehow more vivid, more real—was right before you. The faint furrow of his brow, the slight parting of his lips as though bracing himself for your response, the glisten of unshed tears in his sightless eyes.

It was all so achingly familiar, and yet time had made him even more beautiful in his quiet, unassuming way.

And you loved him.

You always had.

The years apart, the missed chances, the countless letters you’d written and rewritten but never sent—it all fell away, leaving only this moment. This man. The only person who had ever made you feel like you belonged.

“I’ve loved you too,” you whispered, the words spilling from your lips unbidden, your voice trembling but resolute.

Ominis stilled, his brows furrowing further as though he hadn’t quite heard you. “What?”

You reached out, your hands shaking as you cupped his face, your thumbs brushing over the faint stubble on his jaw. His breath hitched, his sightless eyes searching the space between you as though trying to see what your touch already told him.

“I love you, Ominis,” you said again, your voice steadying as you saw the hope flicker to life in his expression. “I always have."

His lips parted, his breath catching audibly as he tilted his head toward your hands, leaning into your touch as though it were the only thing grounding him.

“Say it again,” he whispered, his voice trembling.

You smiled through your tears, leaning closer until your forehead rested against his. “I love you,” you murmured, your voice soft but sure.

A shaky laugh escaped him, a sound filled with so much relief and joy it sent a fresh wave of tears streaming down your cheeks. His hands moved to cradle your face, his touch reverent and tender as his thumbs brushed away your tears.

“Merlin,” he breathed, his voice cracking with emotion. “I can’t believe... after all this time...”

“Believe it,” you said, your voice filled with quiet certainty.

His grip tightened slightly, his hands trembling as he pulled you closer. “Promise me,” he murmured, his breath ghosting over your lips. “Promise me you’ll stay—I’m begging you—don’t leave again. Merlin, I... I can’t go another seven years without you. Not knowing where you are, if you’re safe, if you’ll ever come back.”

You didn’t hesitate. “I promise.”

[rae-writes]

when it's time for mc to return to their original timeline how do you think the [nightbringer] characters would react if mc told them that they were from future and it's time for them to go back to the present timeline and that they'd meet them then

The common room was silent— so silent, it sounded like the entire Devildom was sleeping all at once. There was tension so thick you could cut it by just swiping at the air- there were eleven pairs of eyes trained onto Mc; the single tear that dripped down their face was like a harsh shock wave.

"I'm sorry...but I have to leave- I have to go back to my timeline now..I'll see you again when I return, okay? I promise."

Lucifer is absolutely flabbergasted, red eyes wide as he scanned your face for any signs of humor, but you weren’t joking. His hands trembled uncharacteristically, fingers twitching as he stretched his arm out to try and grab at you; "What do you mean you have to go? Don't...your place is here, with us, you can't leave- what the hell do you mean you'll see me 'when you return', I'm me! I'm right here! Don't go-!"

Mammon doesn't fully process your words, only really catching the part where you said you had to leave. He feels nauseous and scared as he immediately begins to stammer and stumble over to you, grabbing your hand and pulling you closer so he can feel that you’re still there; "Y-you can't leave! Why would you want to leave- your home is here, you belong with us- with me- I'm right here, where are you going? Don't leave me behind! I-I need you! Please!"

Levi instantly has tears in his eyes, too preoccupied with watching you start moving away from him to realize you said you’d see him again. His tail whips out to circle your waist, arms frantically grabbing at you as he cries; "W-w-wait-! D-don't go, don't leave...did I do s-something- a-are you leaving because of m-me? I-I'll fix it, I p-promise, just please don't go..."

Satan's first instinct is to get angry- to throw a fit and throw anything in reach and scream and lash out, but he just stands there staring at you. He understands the concept of time travel and other timelines- he's read all about it- and essentially knows that he'll see you in less than a minute once you go back, and yet...; "Leaving...? You're leaving? I- I don't...I don't want you to go..don't-...just..Mc, please."

Asmo hears everything you're saying, but he just doesn't understand! He practically curls his whole body around you as he stutters through his denial, trying so hard not to cry because it would ruin his makeup; "What do you mean you're leaving, hon? Time travel is nonsense..you belong here, with us! Y-you're not actually going to leave me, right? Not me...don't leave me.."

Beel immediately panics as his thoughts run rampant about losing you and never getting to see you again, despite you assuring him that you'd see him very soon- he can't lose someone close to him again, not you- and the way he grabs onto you shows his desperation; "No! I-I mean...no, you can't leave us- why would you leave us? I thought you were at home here, with us, please...I can't lose you, too..."

Belphie, like his twin, is panicking- but he's in a hysterical panic. He breaks down into sobs and apologies right at your feet- apologizing for any time he was snippy with you and especially the time he got so mad he almost hurt you after finding out you were human- he's so sorry, just..don't leave-!; "No, no, no! You can't! You can't leave us, please, don't leave, I'm sorry! I'm sorry for everything I've done wrong to you- just don't leave me! Please, don't leave me..."

Diavolo understands the concept of what you're saying, though it's still hard for him to grasp the fact that you're leaving to go back to a different him...why couldn't you just stay with him in this 'timeline'? Didn't...didn't you still like him either way?; "What...what? Mc, I don't understand...just stay. Here. With- with me, with us, I don't...why must you go back? Don't you like it here?"

Barbatos shouldn't be worried. He knows exactly what you're talking about and what you mean by 'see you again when I return' and yet he can't help but feel at a loss, torn between letting you just walk away or trying to stop you- he doesn't want you to go back to future him...he wants you here with this him; "I...wait, Mc..don't-...don't go back. Stay, please..I know I'll remember the time we spent together here when you return, but I...I don't want to let you go.."

Simeon is in an odd state between panicked and calm. One on hand, he trusts you. If you say you promise you'll see him again- whatever that means- he believes you. But on the other hand, he's already lost so much in life and he can't possibly bear to lose you too, so he grabs you and holds on tightly; "Go? What do you mean 'go'? I...Mc...I don't want to let you go..I don't want you to leave- please stay...with us. With me."

Luke's confusion dances across his face as he latches onto your waist, firing a thousand questions at once, as fast as he can speak them; "What do you mean you're leaving? How can you see me when you 'return'- what does that even mean?! I'm the only me...and I'm right here- where...where are you going?! Don't leave me! I don't want you to go!"

bonus :

Solomon is there to wrap his arms around your waist tightly for comfort, keeping the others from coming too close; he can't let them take you away from him- won't let them convince you to stay. Your place is in your own timeline, with the present versions of them, with him. He promised he'd bring you back home with him and no one is going to stop him; "Come on, Mc...let's go. We need to go- this is what we've been working towards remember? You'll see them in less than a second once we go through the portal. I'm here with you, I'm not ever going to leave your side. You trust me don't you? Let's go home. Together."

[mayonayys]

Cold Reunion

Tags: Caleb/FMC, Nondescript MC, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence Rating: T+ Words: 1,763 Summary: He was dead. So who was he to stand before her now and question her? He had left her all alone and the grief had nearly killed her. But here he was. And she was angry.

A reimagining of Empathetic Interrogation.

AO3 Link

Her stomach turned as she tried to process what was happening. The man before her was him, there was no question about that now. But his voice was too harsh, his actions were cruel.

He was different, but here he was, right in front of her.

He leaned in close, running the lie detector down her throat and pressing it into her chest.

Her heart felt heavy, bottom lip quivering as her mind tried to make sense of what was happening.

She shifted, pulling at the arm restraints, but stilled when he inched even closer. She could feel his breath fan across her face. Her stomach turned, her senses on high alert.

"I'll ask again." He tilted his head as he pressed the lie detector in harder, causing her to flinch away. "Did you come to Skyhaven for the Aether Core?"

Her mouth twisted into a frown as he glared down at her, the caring and kind man she once knew was nowhere to be found. She started to retort, ask him a question in turn, say anything to help her figure out what was going on.

"Answer me," he sneered out, his eyes holding a venom she never thought was possible in that lilac gaze.

This couldn't have been her Caleb—not anymore.

"Remember," he said slow and low, "the camera is watching. You must tell the truth."

It was almost like he was warning her—he was never that good of an actor though, was he? She didn't feel any warmth from him, she was just prey caught oh so perfectly in his clutches. She winced as the lie detector pressed into her chest and the arm restraints bit into her wrists.

She gritted her teeth and let out a shaky breath.

She would just have to be as good of an actor as he was, then.

"I'm telling the truth." She said slowly, calmly. "I'm not related to anything involving an Aether Core."

Something flickered across his features, but her blood was boiling too much for her to be able to read his expression properly.

"This is your last chance." He adjusted his grip on the lie detector, letting out a deep breath that brushed over her face and had her pulling at her restraints again, wanting nothing more than to push him off of her and rid herself of this false image of him.

"I don't know anything." She reiterated through gritted teeth. She could feel her pulse raising as the device began to beep, soon to reveal her fate.

But his grip shifted on it again, a subtle click meeting her ears as the buzzing stopped and the screen went blank.

He pulled back, just a little, his expression unreadable.

She couldn't help the shaky breath that left her and she swallowed to ease the drying ache in her throat.

He looked her up and down one more time before standing to his full height, towering over her.

"You passed." He finally said and just as she blinked in confusion he seemed to slowly morph before her.

He was still the Farspace Fleet's Colonel, but there was a familiar softness around his eyes now.

She flinched as the lights came on and she instinctively raised her arms, expecting the resistance of the arm restraints, but they clicked open just in time to allow her to shield her eyes from the too bright lights.

She blinked, letting out a small noise of confusion as she moved her arms, looking at him through the gap.

He was smirking.

She felt a new wave of emotion course through her and her jaw tensed as she balled her hands into tight fists.

"You…" Her voice came out strained, anger, confusion, and hurt bubbling up to the surface.

He didn't seem put off by her tone, instead he leaned down, and in a too familiar gesture, his hand went to rest on her head, his thumb brushing at her bangs.

"Surprised? Sure it's been a while, but you already forgot about me?" He chuckled.

She swatted his hand away from her.

"You, Caleb, you're dead!" She lost her cool, voice louder than she would have liked, but her rage bubbled up too quickly for her to control.

The look on his face shifted, the amusement in his smirk deepening.

"If that were true, how could I be standing right here?" He leaned forward again, hands going to take the collar from around her neck.

She pushed his hands away from her again, standing quickly.

Her face heated with rage and his smirk faltered for a nearly imperceptible moment, the hard gaze he wore before threatening to slip back onto his face.

He reached for the collar again and caught her arm when she went to push him away. His gloved hand was cold on her sore wrist, his long fingers applying just enough pressure to make her flinch and try to jerk away.

"Just let me get this, okay?" His tone was soft, he was trying to soothe her now.

After all that, it didn't work. He was no longer her childhood protector, he was a man who evaded death and left her alone to grieve him for far too long. He was cold—cruel even, if she were to go by the force he'd already used against her.

The collar snapped off and he tossed it on the table behind him.

His hand was still around her wrist, but his grip loosened. When she didn't pull away his hand left her wrist, inching down to clasp her hand in his.

"Did I scare you?" He asked and it would have been reassuring if she wasn't still trapped in an interrogation room.

"You…" She shook her head, feeling her face heat as all her feelings came to a head. "You left me!" She blurted out and she could feel tears of anger and grief pricking at her eyes.

He didn't say anything as she glared up at him, but he shifted their clasped hands, his fingers threading through hers.

He tugged her gently forward and she stumbled, reaching out her other hand to brace against his chest. She scoffed as she looked up at him, shaking her head. She didn't pull her hand from his grasp, instead she squeezed her fingers, hoping that her small grip in his large hand could at least cause him a moment of discomfort, but he didn't even flinch.

He pursed his lips, eyes searching her face as she glared up at him with as much venom as she could muster.

"I didn't leave you," he finally said, voice soft. He looked truthful, but how could she believe him after the display he'd put on?

"You did." She hissed out, taking a step back.

He tugged at her arm again, not letting her get far.

She snarled at the action, rage still at the forefront. She pulled at his grasp and when he was unmoving, she raised her other hand, quickly striking out.

The sound of her hand across his face rang out in the silent interrogation room, but he didn't make a noise as his head turned to the side. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes seemed to darken, twinkling with a barely contained rage.

Her fingers stung, even with her glove to buffer the impact of her hand on his cheek. She took a step back, only stopped from going farther by his grip on her hand.

He wasn't looking at her yet and she watched him with a quiet fear rising, taking place of the anger she'd felt before.

His lips parted, tongue just barely flicking out to wet them, but she caught the sight hint of a red liquid tinting his tongue and staining the few teeth she got a peek at.

He finally turned back to her, gaze hard, and her breath left her.

He tugged her forward again and she struggled against his grip, letting out small pleas for him to let her go to no avail.

Her other hand landed on his chest again, fingers gripping at and wrinkling his uniform coat.

She did her best to glare up at him, despite the way she sucked in shaky breaths.

His face was stony and she flinched back when he leaned forward. She could feel his heart beat under her palm, calm and steady, while her own was erratic, pounding loudly in her ears.

His breath fanned out across her face again and she turned away from him, wincing at the faint smell of iron on his breath.

His free hand reached up, gloved fingers ghosting over her jaw before he gripped her chin, turning her head and making him face her. She cringed away from his hard gaze, but as he leaned in closer, his expression seemed to soften.

She couldn't help the small whimper that left her mouth as she felt his lips nearly brush across her cheek.

"I didn't leave you," he finally said, voice soft and reassuring. His thumb gently brushed her jaw, the hand gripping hers loosening and going to rest on the small of her back.

She almost broke, but took in a shaky breath, turning her face ever so slightly, meeting his softened eyes.

"I won't ever leave you, I promise." He said, pressing his forehead to hers.

She blinked and her unshed tears finally fell, stinging her hot face. Her lips trembled as she held her breath, closing her eyes as she leaned into him, his now tender touch overwhelming her.

He pulled her closer, their bodies pressed flush to one another and her sob finally broke. She wrapped her arms around him, burying her tear streaked face into his chest.

"I thought you were dead, Caleb." She managed to get out, voice muffled by her tears and the fabric of his jacket.

He held her tight to him and she could feel him press a gentle kiss to the top of her head. He moved, hand stroking her hair, and he pressed his lips to her temple, the sound of his soft breathing soothing to her senses.

"No matter what," his voice was gentle in her ear and his fingers caressed up her spine. She felt herself clinging to him further, sucking in a breath, breathing him in. "I'll always be by your side." He pressed another soft kiss to her temple, holding her tight until her sobs died down.

She was angry, her heart heavy with grief, but he was her Caleb and he was here, in her arms, once again.

[loveydovey-leviathan]

can i request the Obey me brothers and/or the datables reaction to you being jealous ☺️

mc gets jealous

obey me x gn!reader

🍉 from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸. this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and/or support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. | credit 🍉

a/n: the intro is so long in comparison to what i wrote for the characters lmao

cw: the gender of the person flirting with the characters is not mentioned. they don’t leave even after he’s told them to [belphie’s part]

.

The two of you have been spending less time together lately, your personal responsibilities keeping you apart longer than they usually would. But when you realised the both of you hadn’t gone on a date in weeks, you decided to surprise them with one at a popular cafe in the human world.

Once seated at a comfortable corner, you kiss them on the cheek and tell them you’ll be right back with your orders. The trip from the counter to your seats couldn’t have taken more than 4 minutes but when you walk back, there’s a stranger at your spot next to them. By their body language, it’s clear they’re trying to snatch up your obviously irritated significant other.

Maybe it’s because today was finally a free day for the two of you, combined with not seeing them as much as you would’ve liked– but when you finally arrived at your table, you set down your orders with a little more force than necessary.

With eyes as cold as a storm as you possessively inserted yourself by your lover’s side, you asked the stranger in your seat, “Do you need something from us?”

lucifer

A smug little smirk makes its way to his handsome face when the stranger decides not to start anything and walks away.

And while a part of him doesn’t even want to wait until they’re out of earshot– the same part of him that wants to kiss you senseless in front of the many suitors you have– he refrains from doing anything too rash in public.

If he was in his demon form, his wings would ruffle from how you pridefully claimed him to be your lover in front of this “threat”. Not that anyone has the potential to be one when you’re all he ever thinks about in the late hours of the night.

When you sit down next to him once more, still obviously slightly angry after the ordeal, he gently holds your hand and presses it to his lips.

Just in case it wasn’t clear to anyone else in the cafe that the two of you are together.

“There’s no need to be jealous, my dear. I’m all yours.”

mammon

He gets a little flustered when you’re at his side but he soon gets over it and pulls you closer.

“In case it wasn’t obvious, I’m taken. Now, scram.”

Unlike Lucifer, he doesn’t even wait until the person leaves before he gets up to kiss you (on the cheek, he can only handle so much PDA).

“Took ya long enough! Seemed like you were takin’ forever.” “I was gone 5 minutes, Mams.” “Same thing.”

He’s sweet. And needy– but that’s why you love him. Another kiss on the cheek and it seems like he’s already forgotten what happened.

He hasn’t obviously. He’s going to daydream about this for the next 4 months every night before he goes to sleep because it proves you’re just as greedy for him as he is for you.

He’ll tease you about it, of course. “You must really love me if that got ya jealous.” He’ll stop if you ask him too but he’s still going to be giddy about it.

leviathan

He’s so relieved once you’re here because he had no idea what to do. He doesn’t even realise that he’s leaning towards you.

It isn’t until the stranger leaves that he realises that he’s still extremely close to you while in a public cafe.

He instantly gets so embarrassed and wants to leave.

It doesn’t take you long to put the pieces together– so you take your orders to go and pull him outside the cafe and into a nearby park.

“S-Sorry… I know you really like that place.” Now he’s worried that you might hate him for getting embarrassed and potentially ruining the date for the two of you.

When you reassure him that it’s fine and that you can always go to some other place, he calms down enough and the situation completely dawns on him– you got jealous because you thought someone else wanted his affections (which he still isn’t completely sure of btw).

His face is flushed pink when he thinks about it. You love him enough to fight for him.

“What? Oh- uhm.. it’s nothing– just thinking about how cool you looked back in the cafe when you got jealous, hehe.” < is imagining scenarios in his head and totally planning on telling Henry 2.0 about this exciting development in your relationship.

satan

He was about to commit a crime right before you came along.

Usually, he would be better at keeping his anger in check but this is your first date in a while and he’s not about to have some rando ruin it for the two of you.

“Leave.” is all he says to them with a glare sharper than Asmo’s heels.

He calms down as soon as he sees you seated next to him once more.

“They’re lucky you came when you did. The absolute nerve of some people–” he shuts up once you kiss him on the cheek.

While the two of you eat your food, he realises that your actions may have been caused by a spur of jealousy. He’s quick to tease you about it.

“Was somebody jealous? Well, now you know how I feel whenever one of my brothers take you away.”

He thinks you’re so cute when you’re jealous, but he refrains from teasing too much lest you lightly make fun of him when he’s green with envy.

asmodeus

Don’t get him wrong, he absolutely loves attention– but not at the expense of the two of you spending time together.

As soon as you’re next to him, he stands up and pulls you even closer than you already were.

“Ugh, MC~ where were you? I was so bored.”

He’s acting all whiny and needy, pressing his face into the crook of your neck and completely ignoring the other person.

It’s not long before they turn red in the face and storm out of the cafe.

“Finally, they’re gone,” he complains, checking underneath his nails like he was afraid some of their filth might have latched itself to him.

“You’re adorable when you’re jealous, have I told you that?” 

He’s so quick to tease, even though he’s 100x worse when he’s jealous.

Somehow, he’s even more clingy the rest of the date. He's holding your hand, kissing your cheek, pulling you close to him the entire time– his own way of telling you and everyone else that he’s yours and you’re his.

beelzebub

He’s pretty clueless as to what’s happening and what the stranger’s intentions are– but when you come along, his passive face instantly lights up with a smile.

He is so in love with you, that you’d have to be blind to not see the way he looks at you, like your presence alone makes his heart full.

The stranger realises that they didn’t have a chance from the beginning, and Beel doesn’t even notice them leaving.

He notices that you seem angry at something, so he gently takes your hand and seats you beside him again– handing the slightly ruined food to you.

“You look angry. You should eat, it’ll make you feel better.”

He was right, it did make you feel better. Along with him happily eating all the orders you got him.

He won’t bring up the stranger unless you bring it up, but if you do, he’ll just shrug.

“Them? I don’t know, they just came up to me and sat on our table. I don’t mind when people do that but they were interrupting our date. I didn’t want to get angry and make a scene.”

belphegor

Belphie is spoiled. And he is tired.

When someone comes and sits on your seat, trying to flirt when the two of you came in together– he is instantly pissed off.

He wants nothing more than to “make” them leave, but he can’t (at least not in the way he wants to). So he just decides to be upfront instead.

“Do you mind? That seat is taken by my s/o– the one who walked in with me, in case I need to remind you.”

When they still don’t leave, he’s very seriously considering putting a curse on them.

But before he starts the incantation, you arrive in an equally bad mood.

Recognising that it’s two against one, they roll their eyes and leave, muttering something under their breath all the way.

“That was so tiring…” < (he spoke three sentences)

If you offer to go home, he refuses, saying that you both planned this already.

“I’ll try my best to stay awake but I can’t guarantee it. When we get back home, you owe me a nap.”

The sly little bitch managed to turn the whole thing in his favour.

[lostinlads]

Faulty Evols and Late-Night Rides

Synopsis: After a failed resonation with Sylus, the leader of Onychinus, he sweeps you away in the middle of the night to a warehouse. What's waiting for you are tests and a disappointment red-eyed man.

Tags: sylus x femme!reader, MDNI IF YOU ARE A MINOR YOU WILL BE BLOCKED, , mentions of guns, mentions of kidnapping, biker!sylus, descriptions of food, mc is basically just a worry wort that sylus is gonna kill her, angst

Words: 3.8k

an: Howdy! So- uh this chapter is a bit long to say the least. And i did have some tech difficulties with ao3 deleting some of the chapter otherwise this wouldve been posted a few hours ago, but i hope you enjoy!!! we are slowly getting into it more and i hope you all continue to like this direction we are going in! Feel free to let me know any feedback and let me know if you catch any mistakes as well!!

ao3 | Chapter List | kofi

You've finally managed to get some sleep, though without a clock to tell you how long, you were starting to feel a bit better. You've been awake for a few hours, digging through the boxes that consumed the room and lazily putting things away in silence. You wished nothing more than to have your laptop, to play music or put on a movie in the background because the quietness of the house only added to the eeriness. But unfortunately, beggars can't be choosers, so you work in the stillness of your new room.

A lightness in your chest as your eyes fall upon your book collection, the first thing to have a place in here. Finally able to do something other than stare out at the expansive black of the outside. Maybe Sylus wouldn't need you much, you able to lock yourself away in your room and transcend to other worlds that wait eagerly in those pages. Though, you knew it would be too good to be true.

Three soft rasps on the door draw you from your daydream of escaping. Standing upright in the center of the room, expecting to see the twins, or the devil himself. But with a soft click, the door opened, and you found yourself looking at an older woman. Her graying hair pulled into a tight bun as a blue cleaning uniform clung to her body. If it weren't for her age, at first glance you would've guessed it would be Sylus's wife. But unless he was into older women, she looked closer to being his mother. 

"Mister Qin would like to see you in the dining hall, he sent me to retrieve you." The maid spoke, dark eyes staring at you. You nod, wiping your hands on your thighs as you step forward to follow her out to the winding hall. She led you through the house, your brain trying to memorize the way she took so you can figure out any path this house would lead you to. 

Your palms began to sweat, balling them in tight fists to control the nerves binding in your stomach. You take a deep breath, trying to be as quiet as possible to not show any weakness in front of the maid, though she no doubt see the fear in your eyes. The look of prey being handed over to the predator. The only sound echoing in the empty halls is both pairs of your feet.

The woman leads you through a grand room, you would've mistaken it for a ball room, but you realize it's an entryway. Delicate paintings line the walls, a small table holding a vase and a flower sits at the far corner. Almost something from a period piece movie. But she turns right, two grand doors opening as she walks through. You make your way in, tailing her as best you could, and make out this must be the dining hall. A long wooden table lay in the middle of the room, a golden silk tablecloth stretching the impossible length with a candelabra sitting magnificently in the middle. Chairs line the sides, thick wood with blood red cushions resting on the backs and seat. You almost don't realize Sylus sitting at the head, glasses pushed on his nose with papers littering the space in front of him and in his hand. You gulp.

"Thank you, Selene," He speaks, not looking up from his readings. She turns and leaves, the heaviness of being left alone in the room with him falls onto your shoulders. Teeth gnashing at the inside of your cheek as you stand there, rubbing your hands on your pants once more as you wait for a command, not wanting to push Sylus into harming you.

He looks up from his papers, eyes scanning over your figure through the lenses of his glasses. Embarrassment blooms inside of you, painting your cheeks a flushed pink as you remember your outfit. Plush pajama pants hang from your hips, a sweater wrapping around your upper body one single shoulder on display from it hanging loosely on you. You shuffle uncomfortably in your slipper clad feet as his eyes drink you in. You didn't even know if this outfit had been appropriate for this time of day, whatever that may be. A smokey rope appears from him, pulling the wooden chair from the table out. 

"Sit," His voice commanding, powerful. You obey, shuffling towards it and sliding in soundlessly before it yanks forward, a gasp falling from your lips. "Dinner will be served soon." Your mind reels at what could be served to you. The crackers and granola running out last night leaving your growling stomach to be the only sound in your room. You prayed this wouldn't be some sick game, him feeding you slop while he gets served a grand meal, leaving you to watch in starvation. You just nod, folding your hands on your lap as they wring together. 

Silence washes over you both again, the quiet sounds of fluttering pages as Sylus continues to look over his work in front of him. Your eyes scan the room, dark painted walls with deep wooden accents. A chandelier hangs above the long table, lighting the room in a warm glow, only making it more gothic. You could imagine Dracula living here, bringing beautiful women in to be his victims before he drinks them dry. Maybe that nightmare would be better than the one you're living in now, seduced to think some handsome man was taking you to be his bride and end up his dinner. 

You look down at your hands, pulling your sleeves past your fingers as you wait for food, hunger pains growing from the thought as your mouth waters. 

A door opened, making you jump at the sudden sound, turning your head to see a man in a chef coat wheel a cart into the room. The next thing you notice is the smell. How mouthwatering the wafting sent was, you can almost taste it. If the cartoons were real about people flying through the air at the scent of pie, that would be you. Your only consuming thought is how delicious it must be, your stomach audibly growling to show your need for it. 

Sylus's smoke tendrils swirl through the air, gathering the papers from the table and placing them in a neat pile next to him, which he placed his glasses on a moment later. The chef wheels the cart between you and Sylus, large plates filled with the most exquisite looking food you've ever seen laying on top with twin wine glasses sitting between them. He picks one up, placing it in front of Sylus, followed by a wine glass.

"Tonight we are having grilled Delmonico steak, seasoned with rosemary and garlic. For sides; we have roasted potatoes, biscuits, and slices of clementines." He places your plate in front of you, you watch as the golden butter on the potatoes glisten in the light, the juices from the thinly sliced steak dip nearing the edge of the plate before settling back into place. The biscuits split, the fluffy light bread on the inside looking like a cloud, aching for you to dine on it. And a small bowl containing evenly placed citrus slices, their scent wafting through your nostrils. You fought hard not to tear into everything before he could place the plate fully on the table, your hunger growing ravenous at you nearly drool at the sight of the art in front of you. He placed your glass in front of you.

"For the wine," He bends down, opening a small door on the side of the cart, pulling a wine bottle from a chilled bucket of ice. "We are serving Chateau Margaux, one of your favorites, Mister Qin." He pops the cork, creating another small jump from you before he pours a generous amount in both of your glasses, more than the usual amount. You note the scent, something vintage, something you remember from those late nights at galas and expensive dinners with your father. 

"Thank you, Chef," Sylus speaks, a hint of appreciation or fondness in his tone. "Everything looks delicious." The chef nods.

"Enjoy," He turns, wheeling the cart from the room, leaving Sylus and you alone with the hot, fresh meals in front of you both. You don't move a muscle, not knowing if this would turn into a trap, letting you almost taste real food for the first time in days, just to rip it from under you. Eyes scanning everything on the plate, taking in every last detail of the meal as you inhale the scent like a dog begging for a bite.

"Eat," Sylus commands, annoyed. You look at him for a second, blinking. The all too familiar crease between his brows there, eyes hard as he lifts a piece of steak from his plate. You watch as his teeth sink into it, sharp, slicing right through. With a shaky breath, you gulp, turning back to your own plate and lift up a fork. The silver heavy in your hand as you let the weight sink into your palm for a second, deciding on what first to consume. You decide on the potatoes, knowing if you start with the steak, you will only embarrass yourself further, ripping it apart like a rabid animal. The second it touches your taste buds you couldn't help the small moan pass your lips as your eyes roll back in your head. It almost felt worth it waiting for days to eat real food, with this the first thing to bless your mouth.

"It's delicious..." You whisper out, stabbing your fork into the meat, not wanting to wait any longer to consume it. 

"Our chef is a master in his work," His words ring loud as he appraises his employee. The two of you fall into silence, forks tapping in the plates and muted chewing filling the space between. You tasted the wine, sweetness blooming on your tongue as the warm fuzzy feeling spreads through your stomach. Every bit of the meal complimenting each other, filling you up far sooner than you thought it would. Your plate only half eaten; wine downed as the soft buzz in your veins made you feel warm inside. Placing your fork back down, you lean back in your seat, head down with your hands on your lap.

"Uhm," You start, not knowing how to let him know you stuffed to the brim.

"If you're finished, head to your room and get dressed. We have somewhere to be," He spoke, eyes never wavering from his food as he lifts his glass to his wine-stained lips. You nod, pushing out of your chair to stand. It felt awkward, leaving your plate behind for someone else to clean up, but you really didn't want to feel more incompetent than you already do, having to be walked through basic steps of living all over again. 

To your surprise, the maid was waiting outside the door, hands clasped behind her back as she stared down the hall. You clear your throat, her head snapping to you before blinking twice.

"Ah, you're finished," She speaks with surprise, eyes drifting to the large grandfather clock along the other wall. You follow, the time displaying eight thirty, but you weren't sure if it was day or night. 

"I'm sorry to keep you waiting, I didn't know..." Words trailing off as she begins to walk you back to your room, the familiar route slowly engraving in your mind. 

"I expected you to be gone longer, no worries," Selene chirps, an odd warmness in her tone. 

You make it back to your room, Selene bids you a farewell, telling you Sylus would be meeting you outside once you're ready before turning on her heel and leaving. You shut the door, the lack of a lock latching stretching in the silence before you turn to your dresser. The problem now was you had no idea what Sylus had in mind for your outing. Somewhere to be? That could only mean so many things, and after yesterday your mind told you that you would be sold off yet again. Faulty evol not to his tase so he would simply throw you away. 

Hands shuffling through the drawers you find a simple outfit, jeans and a t-shirt, if he had more elegant plans, well he should've said so. You shuck out of your sleepwear, tossing your new outfit on you make your way to the bathroom. Eyes washing over your appearance, hair tousled from sleep and lounging all day, dark circles under your eyes, and the most pathetic look on your face. Looking like a beaten kitten, fear etched into your eyes, cheeks sunken in, and a soft frown on your stained lips. You almost didn't recognize yourself. With a huff you reach for your brush, raking it through your locks, wincing at every small knot that tugs your scalp. You also decide to wash your face, splashing cold water to try and flush the color of your cheeks, convince yourself that you're still alive. It helps, a soft blush spreading over the apples and the tip of your nose. 

Satisfied, you turn to leave, your hand stuttering to a halt on the handle of your door before you retreat, eyes scanning over your messily unpacked items. They fall onto your jacket, thrown across the chair of the desk in the corner. Might as well bring it, you weren't familiar with the weather of the N109 Zone at this time of year, better safe than sorry. 

You walk through the halls for the first time alone, the sense of being caught for doing so etching into your bones, fear creeping up your spine. You knew your instructions, but spending days locked away to roaming the halls freely seemed like a trap. Maybe you should've waited for him to come and get you, but Selene told you to meet him. The sigh that escaped your lips was involuntary, slipping out while you turn down another hall - hoping you're heading in the right direction.

Finding yourself in what you think looks like an entryway. Peering out the window, vast darkness stretches as far as your eyes can see, the only thing you can make out is a soft glow of a light close by. This should be it, if not you could find your way around the large house until you spot him. You open the door, slipping out through the crack, you're grateful for grabbing the jacket, cool air nipping at the exposed flesh greedily. You follow the source of light, the sound of an engine humming in your ears as you draw closer. 

Sylus, dressed in leather, leaning on a motorcycle comes into view. Large muscular arms crossed over his chest as his eyes remain on the gravel blow his boots. Lips still stained that deep red color, which you are disgusted to admit, looks divine on him, matching his wine-colored eyes. Gravel crunches, he lifts his head, face unchanging as he takes in your appearance.

"Where... are we going?" You decide to ask, putting on a brave face as you shift under his watchful eyes. He pushes himself from the bike, grabbing a helmet before walking over to you. 

"I have a... friend - who might help your little evol situation." That sure didn't sound ominous at all. You nod, gulping down the bubbling fear inside you as you stare into his eyes. He slips the helmet onto your head, using his knuckle to lift your chin up - your cheeks flame. The gesture so soft, so unlike Sylus. He leans in close, eyes drifting from yours, to your lips, then to the strap hanging loosely by your neck. Fingertips barely graze past your skin as he tightens it, a snug - almost perfect - fit as it secures. Sylus's eyes meet yours once more for a split second before he turns, climbing onto his bike in a movement so fluid it almost seemed like a rehearsed dance. 

"Well?" He shoots you a look as he slips his own helmet on, looking at you expectantly. Right. You walk over and climb on, attempting to leave as much space between the both of you as you can on the small machine. Your hands reach out and shakily hold onto his sides, barely touching him. Until you feel a push from behind you, knocking your chest flush to his back and arms around his thin waist. 

"You need to hold on tighter. We can't have you falling off, can we, Kitten?" His voice loud and clear through the helmet, an intercom? One of his hands coming to secure your arms tight around him. He could probably hear how loud you were breathing through his helmet but he only thing you could think of was his intoxicating scent flooding your every being. Warm, worn leather, deep fresh citrus, with a smokey and sweet scent undertone and hints of a manly cologne. It consumed you, something so musky but so elegant, you wish you could bottle it up and keep it with you. If you weren't so drunk on his scent, you would be shaming yourself. How could you think this way of this criminal. This man who took you from the only home you've ever known. Who confessed to wanting to use you as his weapon. But right now, his body was warm, pressed to yours, his scent filling your senses and making you dumb, strong muscles under your fingertips. Everything telling you this was safe, this is comfort. You wished you didn't have this damned helmet on, wanting to press your cheek to him and breathe him in completely, but sadly, that wouldn't be your fate today.

Before you could think, the bike beneath you roared, the vibrations rattling your bones, making your teeth chatter. 

"Hold on tight, Sweetie," Sylus purred in your ears, his back rumbling with his words against your chest as you sped off into the darkness before you. He was so fast, zipping into the night like a bullet with you clinging onto him for dear life. The sudden jolt coaxing a gasp from your lips, eyes bulging wide as the scene around you blurs to nothingness. Sylus's unmistakable dark chuckle bounces around your skull, obviously amused at your shock and fear. 

"Does the N109 Zone not have speed limits?" You shriek, clinging impossibly closer to him.

"What do you think?" Tone mocking, as if you willingly spent any time in this hellscape alone. You don't answer him, looking off into the distance, trying to make anything out other than streaks of light. 

The cold air whipping at your hands made them sting. If only he would slow down maybe they wouldn't hurt so much. Your intoxication of him washing away to nothing more than annoyance once more.

He confused you, everything he said and done contradicting each other, making your head hurt. His gentle touches but harsh looks? Taking you away from your home but carefully packing up your belongings and bringing them here for you? You couldn't decide if he was cruel or thoughtful. But you still didn't have a phone, or anything for you to communicate with for that matter, so maybe his plan is to isolate you. Lock you away in his tower forever. Not like you weren't used to it, your father practically doing the same thing for years. But there you were home, not stuck in the N109 Zone, promised to be used by the leader of fucking Onychinus.

You would just have to keep your distance from him, which is a hard thing to say as your bodies are pressed so close you could feel every calm, controlled breath that graced his lungs. After today you would stay away, not look for any answers from him, keep your head down. Not that you haven't, but the way your brain looked too far into his caresses, the way it nearly shut down at his smell alone, you had to be careful. 

You zip through the dark, Sylus expertly swerving down streets and past cars, only making you panic more. Preparing for the inevitable crash your nerves told you was going to happen. But before it could happen, Sylus rounded a corner and slowed to a stop.

The building before you large, and dimly lit only adding to the haunting feeling of today. You didn't move, hands still clutching him as you tried to calm your beating heart back into a normal pace. 

"You can get off now," Annoyance etched onto every word. You obeyed, though you really didn't want to. Throwing your leg over and bracing them shakily on the pavement under you. Sylus followed, swift precise movement he's probably done thousands of times before. His long legs stride over to you, lifting your chin to undo the strap under your chin before he slides the helmet off. He copies the same with his, placing them both on the seat as he glides effortlessly towards the large double doors of the building.

You chase after him, two steps for each of his.

Inside was almost like another world to you, weapons lining the walls and littered over tables, some creating a soft glow to them. You noticed pretty quick that they had been altered with protocores, then it clicked to you. This is Sylus's job. Creating illegal weapons with altered, and equally as illegal, protocores. Selling them to people, to your father. Your beating heart in your chest reminded you just how rare the one lodged in it was, desirable and sought after by people like Sylus. You gulp.

"Mister Qin, I wasn't expecting you today," A man walked out from behind a machine, rubbing grease off of his hands with a worn rag. Sylus pulled out a chair and slipped onto it, plucking a pocket knife up from the table and flipping the blade open. Blue currents buzzed out, obviously altered by a protocore.

"I have a special situation you need to look into for me," Wine stained lips curling into a smirk as his eyes stay trained on the knife, flipping it between his long, skilled fingers. The man made his way over, eyes flicking to you for just a moment before returning to Sylus. 

"Of course, Sir. What can I do for you?" Sylus's eyes finally land on you, almost zeroing in like a predator. 

"I need you to run some tests on her." Your mouth runs dry, hands sweating as you ball them by your sides. Your exhausted body almost collapsing at the nerves tremoring through it. This was it, your fate. If you failed him, no doubt he would have this man carve your heart out and rip the damned core from it to have himself. "Says she has an aether core in her heart but her evol isn't working. We need to figure out why."