#so you admit mc is a sacrifice

[rafayelsbelovedbride]

A follower? Or just a lowly sacrifice?

[lostxinfinity]

Now that hit a little too close to home!

[koolades-world]

Hi, I love your writing - I was wondering if you could write about an MC who's sleep deprived? They're not an insomniac, they just lack sleep almost the the point of when RAD begins or even just awake up until then.

I see people keep talking about MC who have good sleep schedules.. But I'm not one of them, and I'm just curious as to how the brothers would react to them being up so late.

(Actually, it's 8 am for me rn and I still haven't slept..)

hi! sure thing :)

enjoy <3

Sleep Deprived Mc

Lucifer

if you think this man isn't sleep deprived himself, what are you doing

he's so dadcore. he himself could sleep more but scolds you for doing the same thing

however, his door is always open

if you just want to sit in his office while he does work, he wouldn't mind

Mammon

sometimes, he would occasionally stay up late (on accident)

but after you arrived in the devildom, his sleep schedule took a turn for the worse

basically, when you were awake, he was awake. when you were asleep, he was asleep

although, he'd often fall asleep on you while trying to stay awake with you. this is always your window to take tons of cute pictures <3

Levi

you're in it together bestie

whatever you're doing, even if it's just mindless scrolling

you can do it with him!

he won't try to stop you either lol. he's levi, not a hypocrite

Satan

he's another brother who doesn't want to admit he has poor sleep habits (like father like son)

often he accidently stays up reading

sometimes, a book is just too good to put down, and you just need to continue

he's got a potion somewhere that'll solve both of your lack of energy

Asmo

he's definitely the one who's always on you about your poor sleep schedule

beauty rest is important!

he's probably going to try everything until it's time for him to go to sleep

sorry, but he's not going to sacrifice his own rest. you're welcome to join him though, as long as you don't wake him up

Beel

he often wakes up in the middle of the night to snack

so, you might meet in the kitchen late in the night

he's more than willing to share with you if you want

he doesn't mind spending as much time as you want him to with you

Belphie

as the king of sleeping, he doesn't quite understand you

why would you choose to stay up like that?

no matter the case, he's dragging you to bed with him whether you like it or not

you can sleep, or don't. he just wants you as his pillow haha

[vasiktomis]

Loophole (Zayne x F!Reader, 18+)

Summary: Zayne has an Evol flare-up while you’re visiting Snowcrest. You’re a good friend, so you help him out.

It doesn't mean anything if you don't move, right?

Rating: Explicit (Minors do NOT interact). Word Count: ~6800. Tags/Warnings: Female Pronouns and Anatomy for Reader, Reader is MC, Caretaking, Friends to Lovers, Inappropriate Doctor/Patient Relationship, Childhood Friends, Bickering, Cock Warming, First Time, Vaginal Sex, Photography, Unsafe Sex, Porn with Feelings, Switching. Post-chapter 4 spoilers. Read it on Ao3 Here!

“Let’s get you inside.”

The cold weather poses something of a threat to Zayne, you've realised.

He'd never admit such a thing, of course, but if he hadn't wanted you to make such an observation, he shouldn't have made it his responsibility to impose such an unexpectedly strong presence in your life.

A year ago, you barely knew him. To say he kept you at arms' length was an understatement, but with everything that's occurred in recent months — with such a void left in your life from the loss of Caleb and Grandma — and the ugly mysteries eclipsing once-happy memories — your doctor, of all people, is the one dedicating almost every minute of his time outside of work to trying to fill that void. It's not like he talks your ear off — he's Zayne, after all — but he makes a noticeable effort to make himself accessible to you whenever he can.

He's been a good friend to you at the sacrifice of his own comfort.

In the seven months that have passed since the explosion, you've had more exposure to Zayne than you've had any of your other friends. He rarely strays from his quiet stoicism, but it's far easier to read him. These days, you can't believe you once thought him intimidating. The softer aspects of his personality aren't offered willingly, but accidentally. A slip of the tongue here, a too-long stare at a community cat there, a smile he doesn't think you notice. He masks his requests for you to visit him in his overtime hours as nagging reminders for you to water the plants. He never asks you to bring him dinner, but there's always an extra seat pulled up at his desk when you arrive with it unannounced.

You’re sure he likes it well enough; getting to know you after all these years. You’re just not sold on how fond he is of you knowing him.

It shows stark on his typically taciturn features. Streetlamp light bounces off fluffy snow at all angles in the little village laneway, illuminating the man with an almost healthy glow as he walks stiffly beside you, right hand clutched against his side and his left doing all it can to keep from crushing the bones in yours.

“I’m fine.” He insists while you lead him up to the cabin, grimacing at a sudden chill of wind passing over the porch. There's a certain tone he uses when he's putting on the bedside manner. As a patient, you'd be soothed. As a friend, your patience wanes. He's not fine.

”I’ll get a fire going.” You mutter, ushering him inside. He tries amidst obvious pain to be gentlemanly, waiting for you to enter first, but a scowl on your part has him conceding defeat and ambling through the door. “Get in the shower. Can you turn it on by yourself?”

There’s no more warm light from the street in here. Dr. Noah likely would have fallen asleep hours ago, shortly after you’d left for dinner. Still, even in the dark, you can sense the irritation in him.

“You act like I’m frozen solid.” He retorts on his way to the bathroom, knowing better than to stick around despite the attempt to uphold his pride.

”Get your butt in the shower before I throw you in there myself.”

The warmer months gave you no initial reason to suspect anything, but as the weather worsened and temperatures dropped, Zayne began to feel more on-edge. You’d bore witness to his attacks in the past, but he was no more willing to share his condition with you beyond the odd occasion of being unable to switch it off after a battle. You knew what it looked like when his Evol was acting up. It almost caused a fight, the first time you asked about it. Then, when it became clear you weren’t simply going to leave him to his own devices whenever he was displaying the signs, Zayne steadily, reluctantly, began to let you assist. He couldn’t stand it — he still can’t, you’re sure — not playing caretaker for once, but the two of you found a rhythm; keeping an eye on his temperature, steering clear of fluctuations, little remedies that help him bounce back quicker when his Evol gets the better of him. It became second nature to you, like carrying an Epipen for a loved one at risk of anaphylaxis.

You won’t lie, though. It pisses you off. He’s a constant nag when it comes to your health regarding your heart condition, but there was no allowable mention of his  condition when he brought you to Dr. Noah. Not that your opinion counts for anything, apparently, but what idiot cashes out his annual leave for an extended stay in a tundra when he's so prone to such reactions?

It had shocked you even more when your friend declared he’d be staying back for the foreseeable future, conducting research for the old man on a solo expedition on Mt. Eternal. Your friend — the one who'd taken it upon himself to be a stand-in for your lost family — alone, in the worst possible place he could be in his condition.

It was unthinkable.

Four weeks was your breaking point after you’d returned home without him.

Sure, he responded to your texts within seconds. Reception wasn’t good enough for calls, but he made sure to give you no logical reason to worry about him. It didn’t help. Once your dreams started to take the shape of him disappearing into the mountains, you cut your losses and decided to visit for the weekend.

Just as well, considering he’d been massaging his wrist in your periphery for the entirety of your first day. Still, he'd insisted on showing you around Snowcrest, spending as much time away from Dr. Noah's cabin as possible. You knew his tells. He was bordering on a flare-up and hiding it from you. Had he mentioned it and agreed to stay in tonight, you might not of had to drag him home with frost seeping out of his clothes and a foul mood. Instead, he chose to be proud about it.

Idiot.

God knows what could have happened to him if he hadn't come down from the mountain to spend the weekend with you.

He’d never let you get away with such stupidity, and it’s hard not to hold it against him. You came here out of worry in the first place, and the visit isn’t doing a thing to set your mind at ease.

You tend to rekindling the dimming embers in the fireplace, content to mind your business once you hear the shower turn on. At least he’s doing what he’s told.

The living room heats up steadily. New flames settle into a longer-lived glow. You get yourself changed into more suitable bed wear; a commandeered hoodie from your doctor’s medical school era, large enough to reach halfway to your knees. The frayed cuffs have since lost their elasticity and there are a few choice stains, and most condemning, the drawstrings have been chewed to tassels — but god, if it isn’t comfy. Time stretches on, and while the worry gnaws at the back of your mind, you leave Zayne to his privacy. So long as you don’t hear a thump, you’re content to imagine he’s probably just in there being mad at himself over not being the sensible one for once.

Zayne keeps himself locked away for the better part of an hour, in the end. Even Pie pads out into the living room to investigate what you’re doing up alone in the middle of the night before a scritch sends the fox on its way back to bed.

You’ve slid most of the way off the couch by the time the man emerges from his room in fresh pajamas. With your back to the rug, you watch him approach stiffly, slowing to a halt upside-down. He’s still rubbing at that wrist, you note.

“You’re still up.” He mutters, brow knitted in discomfort.

There’s frost on his neck. His lips are blue. It wasn’t even this bad when you were outside. A pit forms in your stomach.

Then, his wake hits you. Cold air, chilling you to the bone, and you sit up in a flash.  

“Zayne—“

He silences you with a little hand motion, stepping around you to seat himself as close as he can to the fireplace.

“You’re half-frozen.” You continue when he offers you nothing else. Crawling onto the couch beside him, you reach up to tug at the collar of his sweater, trying to inspect the severity of the attack. “God, you should have said  something.”

“I thought you were asleep.” He replies quietly. “I’ve seen — how much it takes to wake you-“

Zayne flinches from your touch when your fingertip skims his neck. The most aggressive warning to stay back that he can risk without waking his mentor. You ignore him, of course. You always do. Sitting close, you press yourself to his side on the couch, guiding his right arm between your thighs. Your fingers lace between his from both sides, covering as much surface area as possible as you use your body to fend off the cold.

A moment is all it takes to see some of the tension in his face disappear. He breathes through the pain, eyes closed, and you shift your gaze to the fireplace to give him his privacy with it.

”You’re in so much trouble when this passes.”

A short, sharp chuckle slips through Zayne’s teeth. He nods once. “I know.”

You sit together like this for a long while, letting him sap the heat from your body to combat the flare-up. If not for the fire, you’d be shivering. It takes time, but eventually Zayne’s breathing evens out. His face relaxes, bit by bit. His half-frozen arm feels just a little cold to the touch.

Neither of you part. Not just yet. There’s too much left unsaid, and Zayne takes far too much solace in quiet to make the first move.

You let your temple drop to his shoulder. “Snow village dates are nice, but most girls would say yes to ‘Go Fish’  and hot cocoa if it means their date makes it through the night.”

After a second, Zayne rests his head against yours.

He inhales.

He pauses.

Then…

“I wanted you to have a nice time. I didn’t think it through.”

…God, he’s such a sweet man. It’s not wonder he’s got you wrapped around his finger.

There’s such a sense of finality to the way he says it. You suppose it’s not necessarily a wrong way to think of it, but it’s not his fault. Sure, it’s your last night together for what may amount to months, and he was stupid enough to think he could get away with poking the bear, but you’d rather have him come home alive and well. Not a victim to his own Evol.

It doesn’t sit right with you to let it end like this. The moment he’s recovered, he’s going to insist you both go to sleep. You’ll take the guest bed, and he’ll take the pull-out trundle, and he’ll remain there, soundless with his back to you. In the morning, you’ll say your goodbyes, and that will be that. The next time you see him will probably be for a check-up, and he’ll spend the entirety of the ECG acting like you’re mere acquaintances again.

No, you’re not losing momentum.

You’re not sure if it’s warmth in general, or if it’s a reaction specific to you — through trust, or the Aether core — there’s just no telling. Zayne keeps his cards too close to his chest for you to ever be sure, but you do know for certain that you hold the quickest remedy. If it’s just warmth, he never lets anyone but you get close enough to supply it. If it’s trust, likewise. The Aether core? You’re the only one.

“What are you—“

Zayne stiffens when you climb into his lap. He winces in discontentment; at such an intimidate proximity, at the physical danger he still poses, at the feeling of your thighs astride his. He doesn’t look pleased in the slightest, but still, his knees shift together, offering you a more comfortable perch on which to explain yourself.

You can feel the cold still radiating from him, fighting his body to keep from regulating its own temperature. It’s unpleasant, the way the chill claws at you, reaching across the expanse of your front. The joints in your hands already ache just from holding his arm to your chest. It’s imaginable, what it must be like to host such an Evol. What it must be like to have your own flesh freeze from the inside-out on a whim.

“Not done keeping you warm.” You answer simply, making a conscious effort to keep your teeth from chattering for his sake. He’s exercising enormous restraint not flinging you off of him already. You shouldn’t push your luck by sending him into any more of a panic.

“It’s not safe for you to be this close.” Zayne protests.

“Then I’m making you safe.”

This time, a growl escapes him. Pain cuts his patience with your impudence short. “You’re going to get yourself hurt—“

Zayne’s words die in his throat when you drape yourself over him, chest to chest, arms languidly curling over his shoulders. He goes completely silent.

“Aren’t you always telling me you can control it, anyway?” You muse, relaxing into him, moulding yourself to his body. The white frost that blooms beneath his skin begins to fade from his throat, unable to contend with the warmth of your breath. “If you didn’t want me doing this you shouldn’t have shown me how well it works.”

“That was after the aid of a hot shower.” Zayne argues. His logic might apply for that aborted attempt at an early-morning hike, but it falls flat tonight. “I was trying to warm up after the shower.”

Yeah, look how well that turned out. He’s as bad at lying as you are.

“So you’re saying I ought to have—“

“That’s not what I’m saying.”

“If it’s not helping, Zayne, tell me.”

“…It’s helping.” He mutters.

You declare your victory with a hum, tucking your face into the collar of his sweater.

Even his scent is cold, somehow.

Beneath you, Zayne shifts, conceding defeat. You feel his lips ghost the side of your head. Considering — then retreating from a kiss — opting instead to rest his chin on you. His affected arm remains wedged between you, while his free hand comes to rest on your waist.

Minutes pass. Zayne’s breathing steadies to a resting rhythm. Eventually, the ice retreats into his flesh, disappearing with only a lingering chill. It shifts, marking the man’s return to normal, but he doesn’t announce anything. Instead, he tugs his arm out, only to wrap around you, surrendering to the moment.

“Do you have plans, while I’m away?” He asks.

“Tara’s been looking at the blank spots on my calendar, so I’ve probably got things on without knowing, yet.”

“Blank spots.”

”Yeah. Some of us have those.”

”Sounds like you don’t know what to do with yourself without me.”

“Please. I won’t have to worry about you bullying me. Maybe, y’know, I’ll do just fine without you.”

A chuckle escapes him. Tentatively, he toys with the fabric of your hoodie. “You’re not going to wash this at all, are you.”

Heat climbs up your neck at the suggestion. Of all the night clothes you had to bring, why did it have to be something you’d stolen from him?

You’re no coward. You rise to challenge. “Can’t miss you when it feels like I’ve got you with me.”

“I know  you’ll miss me,” Zayne retorts, and wow, he’s really  angling for a comeback after having you subject him to being taken care of, “But that’s no excuse for poor hygiene.”

“Poor hygiene—!”

You lean back to glower at the man, only to find him smirking up at you.

“I’ve half a mind to expect to find you asleep on the platform when the train pulls in, simply because you were too excited to wait at home for me to drop by.”

Your ears are positively scalding. You feel yourself shrinking, suddenly not so confident taking up as much space in the room. How does he have you so well figured out? Are you really that much of an open book? Compared to him, sure, but you’d hoped you carried a little more mystery about you than sitting on a station platform for a quasi-boyfriend-without-benefits  like a dog.

Even if that is  the case — does he really have to rub it in your face?

He can’t get away with this.

Speaking plainly, Zayne’s warmed up plenty. There’s no real reason for either of you to remain this close, and yet — despite lauding himself as the rational half of this friendship, his arms almost keep you from moving any further away.

His expression doesn’t falter with your silence, remaining ever-undisturbed. It unnerves you. His smiles never last more than a second, and you can count on one hand the amount of times he’s looked you in the eye with a pleasant face on. He’s on a power trip. If you don’t cut him down right this second he’ll go nuclear. He’ll leave you hanging with a ‘goodnight’  and a kiss on the forehead and you’ll both never speak of tonight again.

This is it. This is the last straw. Tonight, you leave him  hanging. 

“You want me to miss you so fucking bad, huh?” You accuse him, tapping a finger to your chin as you pretend to wonder. His eyebrow ticks. “Is that what you’re into? Man, you medical staff are all so power hungry.”

Zayne looks thoughtful for a moment. A thumb idly traces back and forth along your skin, barely tucked beneath your hoodie. It’s such a cautious touch. You wish  he wasn’t just all talk. “Perhaps you’re easier to deal with when one considers you might actually like getting bossed around.”

There’s no hiding the erection that sits wedged between you. There’s no ignoring the heat that pools in your core every time it strains against your cunt, blocked only by his sweatpants and your underwear.

There’s no way he can’t feel your heart beat throbbing against him.

And yet — he pretends not to be taking part in any of it.

You think about it for a moment.

Then, you roll your hips forward, slowly, gently. Your nerves spark as your clit finds the pressure it needs against the underside of his cock.

It takes everything in your power to keep from doing it again.

A tiny shiver makes its way out of Zayne. Frustration, perhaps. You angle a knowing little smile at him, and his throat bobs. He knows he’s been caught.

Checkmate.

“Doctor Zayne, are you getting off on this?” You ask, and his face flushes scarlet. His eyes widen, caught off-guard by you finally crossing the threshold.

”I…don’t know what you’re talking about.” He answers lamely, pointedly avoiding looking down.

“You are!”

“Not so loud. It’s n-… it’s nothing.” He insists in a hushed voice, shooting a look over your shoulder before he’s satisfied that the coast is clear of anyone who might be privy to what the two of you are doing. “Just a biological reaction to stimuli.”

“Which stimuli?” You ask, feigning curiosity. “The cuddling, or this?”

To stress your point, you do it again, biting back the swell of enjoyment at the way his lips part of their own accord. A little hum spills forth, and his own hips chase the motion, just for a second, before he halts.

“Please.” Zayne murmurs, moving to hold you still. Inching you back onto his thighs, condemning himself to reveal two little damp patches. One where the grey fleece of his sweatpants pulls most taut. The other a little lower, where you’ve been rubbing your cunt along his clothed shaft.

“You need to learn when you’ve teased enough.”

What — fall back? Now? When all your nerves are alight?

Your tongue wets your lips as you take in the sight of him. Well on his way to wrecked, but not quite there. His expression remains otherwise impassive, but his pupils are far too blown to help him maintain the facade.

“You’re one to talk. Can’t hack it when it’s not you in charge?” You challenge him. “You’re not usually one to shy away from uncharted territory.”

You can’t help but reach out, itching to touch him. Fingertips smooth along his length, feather-light from the bottom up. His cock twitches when you reach the tip, begging for more.

“Ah—“ Long fingers snatch at your wrist, holding you fast. “Try no man’s land.”

“It’s nothing.” You assure him. “You said it yourself.”

Nothing. No different to how he so often strays into treating you, with all his dates and touches. Nothing, midday naps and linking your pinky-fingers as you walk together. Nothing, like the spare clothes you both reserve a drawer for.

“Just warming you up. That’s all.”

Zayne’s chest expands. His gaze fixes on your fingertips curling insistently at his waistband despite his grip keeping you at bay. “That’s all.”

Disbelief? Determination? Disappointment? You’re not familiar enough with how each of these sound in his throat to properly identify it, but Zayne’s grip on your wrist releases nonetheless. He opts to help you make more comfortable work of his track pants, pushing them down just a little to allow you easier access. There’s no presence of approval at how greedy you are about it, pawing and snatching at your prize while he tries to remain nonchalant.

You do try to give him the dignity of privacy by not looking down when he settles and you finally wrap both hands around his cock. He’s already indignant as it is, and the rumble that vibrates deep in his chest as your fingers close around him isn’t helping.

Oh — maybe just a little tease.

“Hey.” You chide, grinning. His eyes crack open, just enough to narrow at you. “Don’t make it weird. I’m a professional.”

It earns you a scoff. Zayne’s fingers, settled on your thighs, give a retaliatory squeeze, thumbs pressing just hard enough into your adductors to skirt on discomfort. He watches you tense at the feeling, and sensing an opportunity to shift the attention back off himself, decides to squeeze harder.

You finally flinch with an “Ow!”, and the man smiles to himself. Mission accomplished. He lets go.

”You’re the professional? How many surgeries have you performed?”

”How many have you  performed?”

”…A lot, genius.”

“Didn’t you tell me that some of your worst patients are doctors themselves?”

“Your point being?”

There’s no point — at least not in arguing with him. He’s only trying to distract you. You shift over him, and his attitude dissolves. He leans back, maintaining as much distance as he can — or perhaps to watch, as you tug your underwear to the side — line yourself up — and sink down onto his cock.

Zayne’s chest expands, but he makes no noise. His eyes close. His lips part. A minor crease forms between his eyebrows. It might as well be a sob. You’d use such a reaction against him if you weren’t more concerned with suppressing your own, lest he catch you out. Your cunt burns from the sudden, full intrusion, and his diverted attention gives you the moment you need to grow accustomed to it.

Once you’ve gotten over the initial shock of the feeling, you brush any intrusive thoughts aside. It doesn’t matter if he’s one of your oldest and closest friends. It doesn’t matter if he’s your doctor. You were already squarely planted in conflict-of-interest territory the moment he took you on as a patient.

You try to ignore your own desire. Your body catches up with your actions quickly, igniting touch-starved nerves that you’ve long-fantasised him satisfying. Heat builds inside you at a nervous system realising you’re finally giving it what it wants, and it only screams for more. Of course you’ve wanted Zayne. You adore him, but he’s not the kind of man who could balance a friendship with benefits; if anything, he finds a way to be the inverse of such a thing. He gives you everything in the way of a relationship except sex, and with him steering so clear of crossing that boundary with you, you have to tread carefully.

As much as you want to, this is delicate.

“My point is: zip it and let me take care of you.” You manage.

Besides, its not like you’re actually having sex with him. He’s continually pushing the boundaries of platonic with all his touches and hugs anyway. It’s not like he has a leg to stand on if he wants to protest what sitting on his cock might mean for your relationship. Hell, this isn’t even the first time he’s been hard when you’ve had his hips pinned down with your own.

If anything, you’re doing the guy a favour by taking the responsibility off him to go this far.

Zayne doesn’t bounce back as quickly as you do. His eyes remain scrunched shut, his core engaged beneath your palms as you brace your weight to settle into a more comfortable position in his lap. He looks worried. Apprehensive.

“Doctor Zayne?” Concern begins to creep in, just a little. “Okay, you can say something now.”

“Please,” He grits between his teeth, and relief floods your body as some semblance of calm returns to his expression, “Don’t call me that — like this.”

“Like what? I’m just warming you up, remember?” You offer a smile when he opens one eye, mood shifting to quizzical.

“You’re so immature. And for the record, this constitutes malpractice. You’re a terrible doctor.”

”Trust the process.”

”Fine. What’s the course of treatment?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing.”

You can’t help but chuckle at such quiet outrage. It’s getting easier to read him. Relaxing against his front, you ignore a little gasp on his part to loop your arms around his neck again. Dishonest pretences be damned, this really is doing the trick. “All you need to do is stay still.”

Zayne weighs up his options for only a moment before giving in. His arms slip around your waist. His chin hooks over your shoulder, just barely nuzzling into the crook of your neck. He’s breathing in your scent, and the following exhale into your skin has you stifling a shiver.

Then, there’s a flex within you.

“Hey!” You choke, “I said stay still back there!”

“Quiet down. It was only a reflex.” Zayne defends, a little too cavalier to fly under the radar. “Besides, I’m not the one squirming.”

“I’m just getting comfortable. Your hips are pointy.”

Zayne’s hips slot up into yours, and the feel of him nudging just a little deeper has your eyes stinging. You fail to stifle a little squeak, and you’re shushed for it immediately.

“Just getting comfortable.” Zayne’s words lick at your ear, and the sound of him sends shivers through you, pooling between your legs, pleading with you to satisfy the ever-nagging want to start riding him. “You’re like a vice.”

He has to know how much of an effect he has on you. There’s no way he doesn’t.

You don’t respond to his attitude — however, the condemning, responding, constricting  of your insides around his cock surely doesn’t go unnoticed, and with a hollow breath, he lifts you, just a little, enough to draw back and push back in. He’s slow about it; infuriatingly so, almost like if he inches in and out at enough of creeping pace you’ll either not bother to be strict with him, or you’ll simply abandon your own rules in favour of crossing the boundary he’s silently begging you to cross for him.

No. He’s not getting the upper hand here. Not when he gets to pretend all his little actions are forgettable. Platonic. Accidental. Misunderstood. There’s only so many times a guy can subtly grind on someone during a spooning session and claim ignorance when called out about it.

You lock your feet beneath his knees, and sink down onto him, hard. Pleasure blooms. Your cunt aches for more. A sharp breath escapes Zayne, threatening to blossom into an appreciative groan that would only serve to tempt you without your hand clapping over his mouth and a ‘shh!’.

“You can keep still, or this stops.” You announce in a whisper, and he watches you defiantly from behind your hand.

Zayne’s gaze eventually breaks away from yours. Conceding. For now, at least. You lower your hand from his mouth, and relax, reaching across the cushion to pluck your phone from the couch and check your messages.

Already, he’s bothered by your lack of undivided attention.

“You’re on your phone.”  He huffs.

“I’m not rewarding your behaviour.” You reply simply.

“You’re not implying that behaving differently would warrant a reward, are you?”

That’s for him to figure out.

You shift your weight maybe just a little more than you need to, indulging in the feeling of his cock shift with you, within you, pressing insistently against that one spot that almost has your constitution coming apart at the seams. Zayne trembles momentarily beneath you, swallowing hard. He’s keeping his cool well enough, but as you settle into the new angle, no longer moving, his frustration makes itself known with another twitch inside you.

If he keeps doing that, you’re not sure you can hold out.

“You really  think this is helping?” He asks, voice tight.

“You don’t believe me?” You pout, tapping your home screen and opening your camera app. “Fine, let the expert see for himself.”

Switching to selfie cam, you watch as the man glances at his image on the screen for half a second, before tearing his gaze away. Not a shocker, you reason. He’s probably never seen himself with a hair out of place. Flushed cheeks and dilated pupils? You might as well have shown him a traffic collision.

“Aw, come on. Look how much colour’s come back to your face.”

Zayne musters the courage to look up, but not at the phone. His eyes narrow at you. Accusatory. “I’m not interested in giving you blackmail material.”

“What? Get real. There’s nothing incriminating going on. Especially not when you angle it like this.” You switch on a filter and lean down into the man. “See?”

Curiosity gets the better of him, and his head tilts to get a better look at whatever scheme you’re cooking up. On the screen, both your flushed faces smooth out, blushing perfectly. Cat ears and whiskers. Cheek to cheek. Just another one of your countless selfies with completely platonic friends.

You take the shot. The shutter clicks.

“Cute.” Zayne mutters drily.

“You think so?”

“Only how much fun you seem to be having of it.”

Your brow knits. “Oh yeah? All right, stick in the mud, you take over.”

He gives too much away at that response. His long fingers immediately slip over your hips. He’s readying to flip you onto your back before he notices you’re holding the phone out to him. Then, knowing he’s shown his hand, he has no choice but to recover his pride.

Much to your chagrin, Zayne plucks the phone from your hand, aborting whatever miraculous step he’d been about to take. A corner of his mouth ticks, minutely. He angles your phone away from you, tapping and swiping. His own phone buzzes. Then, he casts the device at the other end of the couch, out of your reach. “I think it’s getting a bit late for screens.” He murmurs. Fingers smooth up and over the swell of your hips. His long arms uncoil from your waist, releasing you as he leans back. Leaving you with a lonesome chill.  “And you ought to be going to bed.”

Is that…rejection? Has he just been humouring you up until this point?

You tilt your head. “I’m sorry. Is this not okay?”

“This is fine.”

He looks at the fireplace. Stoic as ever.

“Then what?” You frown.

He doesn’t respond.

Your throat runs dry. Dread creeps up through your heart.

“Hey. Talk to me.” You urge, smoothing your fingers along his jaw, and he leans into your palm.

Seconds pass. Zayne finally regards you again. There’s an acknowledging incline of his head — almost a polite bow. A pre-emptive apology for what he’s about to say. 

“What happens after this?” He asks. “Do we part ways at the train station in the morning and the next time we see each other, it’ll be as doctor and patient?”

Oh.

“Is that what we are to you?” You ask, not entirely sure if you want to know.

He dodges the question the best way he knows how: with rationality. “I feel that if that scenario is what you want, we should say goodnight. My understanding of our relationship won’t change, I promise you, but if this goes further, at least one of us is going to feel differently. It would be better if there were no misunderstandings between us.”

Something tightens in your chest. Something dreadful and lovely all the same, anxiety and anticipation at the prospect of a tipping point, at least before saying goodbye. Trust Zayne, of course, to turn to smoke and mirrors when it comes to a confession of feelings, but you’ve known him long enough to see how far out of his comfort zone all of this is.

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” You ask, aborting an attempt on his part to avert his gaze with a finger beneath his chin.

His expression remains inexplicable. Then, there’s that little tilt of his head. The quirk of an eyebrow. “Your assumption is correct.”

The apprehension that’s been building in the back of your mind disperses the moment he says it. Your resolve all but disappears.  “My understanding,” You begin, reaching up to cup your hand over the other side of his face, “is that I’ve wanted you ever since I walked into that restaurant last year.”

Zayne doesn’t hesitate. His mouth finds yours in a heartbeat. Previously unsure hands pull you against him, locking you in his embrace. He’s so awfully gentle about it all despite your combined strength. Such a gentleman. It comes as no surprise that he shudders at the intrusion of your tongue past his lips — what does surprise you is how quickly he catches up to your pace. Inviting you in. Slipping an arm lower to brace your weight, and you feel yourself being pulled up off of his cock, just until only the head remains at your entrance. 

The loss of him has you incensed. He keeps you from sinking back down, and your protesting whines are suffocated with another kiss. All he’s left you with to express yourself is your hands, and you seize the opportunity, combing your fingers through his hair and tugging, just slightly at the roots.

He breaks away with a little noise. Not pained, but shocked. Another one of his spots, you reason, and he’s just as displeased that you’ve found it. 

“You don’t know when to quit.” Zayne pants. His fringe dusts your forehead. “What — what were we saying about bad behaviour going unrewarded?”

You’re too mindless right now to play any games. There’s no more thrill of the build that you can handle. Not after this long. 

You break, instantly. 

“Please —“ You whimper, almost trembling in his grip, trying in vain to take him back in again. “Zayne, I need it — please—“

Zayne relents right away. He gives you what you want, lowering you, burying himself in you to the hilt. Then he lifts you again, building into a steady rhythm.

”You’re so — you’re so frustrating.” He manages between kisses. “Should’ve told me this is all it takes for you to do as you’re told.”

More. You need more. Heavenly as it is, it’s not enough, just having him in you. You push back, and Zayne takes the hint. He’s said his piece. He lets you take the lead again without a fight, admiring the view as you roll onto the balls of your feet, gripping the back of the couch to keep yourself stable. The new angle feels deeper, each stroke rolling drifting sharply over your nerves as he brushes that spot inside you. It takes a moment for Zayne to kick into gear, brain short-circuiting as he watches you squat on his cock, taking what you need from him. Then, he leaves you to support your own weight. Fingers wrench at the front of your hoodie, yanking it up to your sternum, and his tongue sweeps a nipple. In the time it takes for you to react, his other hand has snaked between you, between your legs. His thumb rolls over your clit just as he latches onto your nipple and sucks. The keen barely escapes your lips before Zayne’s hand claps over your mouth, continuing his assault. 

It goes from too little to too much. It creeps up on you so fast, so suddenly, and there’s nothing you can do but ride through it. A muffled hum is all the warning you can give him. Your pace staggers as the burn in your thighs catches up to you, but Zayne only goes faster, rubbing merciless little circles into your nerves. His hips roll up into you, compensating as best he can for your loss of control. Finally, the band snaps, and you sob against his hand, spasming around him, tears pricking at your eyes with the intensity of it all. You go positively boneless, and Zayne breaks away just enough to let you collapse into his chest as he carries you through it, breaths quickening as the lingering spasms of your orgasm invoke his own. 

“Fuck, I’m—“ He barely stammers, releasing you only to coil his arms around your torso again, readying to pull out.

“Not going anywhere.” You promise, clinging to him. Your fingers comb through his hair, tugging again, and a whimper dies in Zayne’s throat. He buries his face into the crook of your neck. His hips roll up into you once, twice, thrice more, and then he goes still. Buried in you to the hilt as he tips into oblivion.

He’s so subtle about it that you barely even realise he’s coming. Maybe it’s the effort not to wake Dr. Noah. Maybe it’s like this every time. Having him hold you with such desperate reverence while he does his best not to judder in stark contrast to to the feeling of him pulsing within you, you reason you’d like to find out. He hides his face from you throughout, only pulling his forehead from your clavicle when the aftershocks have come and gone.

Zayne looks lovelier than ever like this — coming out of a blissful haze, gazing up at you with cautious adoration. His focus flickers between your eyes and your lips. His chest expands and collapses like he’s like a 5-miler, but his breaths are smooth.

Even now, he’s trying to maintain a cool composure.

“Forgive me.” He mutters, not quite meeting your eye.

Your head tilts. Chasing him. “Huh? Why?”

“I exercised poor judgement. That was rotten of me. I should have known better, given I’ve never prescribed birth control to you.”

“You really think I’d come to you for birth control?” You snort.

Zayne’s brow creases. An incredulous look totally undermined by how positively wrecked he looks right now. “I am  your physician. Or has your other doctor friend decided to become real after all?”

Your fingers comb through his hair again. Despite a pleasant sigh on his part at the sensation, his expression remains steeled.

“Hey.” You finally manage to capture his gaze, only for any tells to evaporate. “Could you tell me something?”

“I’ll do my best.”

“Are you more jealous that I might have had sex with someone who wasn’t you, or that I might have gone to another doctor?”

Zayne considers his answer for a long moment. His head tilts in that particular way it does when he has to make a decision, eyeing you expectantly. Punishment for daring to push him out of his comfort zone.

He presses a hand to your forehead. 

A thoughtful hum escapes him.

“Curious. Your temperature’s dropping. On second thought, you should stay another day so I can observe you.”

“You’re avoiding the question!”

“Here. I’ll keep you warm. You can install those camera filters on my phone to pass the time.”

[seraphinitegames]

Wayhaven Ask...

(I was answering asks, and my internet decided to completely die right in the middle yet again...I'll try to remember as much of the ask as I can, and copy and paste my answers from my word doc!)

Anon asked if Rebecca would have preferred it was the MC who had died and not Rook, and what would Rebecca say to a MC who asked about it. (I'm pretty sure that was everything in the ask, sorry!)

-

Not once. Rebecca isn't quite the person she used to be due to the loss of Rook, but she would never wish for that. Even if she had the opportunity to have him back at the MC's expense now, she would never take it.

She would certainly sacrifice herself or things of herself to bring him back, but nothing that ever involved the MC.

Which is also what she would admit to the MC if they asked!

Thank you so much for the ask! :)

[diana-bluewolf]

It’s the fanfic I wrote about in the previous post

—------------------------------

Word count: ~4500

Warnings: passive suicidal ideation (don’t ask me how I ended up here with a funny comic as a base); m/m; not proofread.

English is not my first language - sorry for the mistakes!  

Additional tags: Ominis/M!MC, hurt-comfort, demisexual MC, SFW

Summary: Chris had read that “I’d die for you” thing in some books. It didn’t make any sense to him because it didn’t sound like a big deal. He’d die for himself. But when he thought about Ominis’s words echoing around the Undercroft, he realised that for the moon-eyed boy he was ready to make a much more labour-consuming sacrifice. 

He’d live for him.

—------------------------------

When I feel so alone out here And freedom means I am lost When every day seems a slow-motion suicide You reignite my lust for life Lust for Life Song by Poets of the Fall

"Guess who's back!" 

Sebastian raised his head from the book he was reading on his bed to find Chris at the doorway to their dorm. 

"Oh, you were away?" teased Sebastian, grinning and arching his eyebrow. Ominis, who was resting on a small couch next to the fireplace, rolled his eyes and tilted his head towards Chris, smiling.

It was Friday evening. The lessons had recently ended, and the only thing keeping the students indoors was the spring rain outside. Besides, the N.E.W.T.s were approaching, so there was no time to relax.

“Aww, it’s so nice to be missed,” said Chris theatrically as he threw his shabby case on the floor next to his bed and shot Sebastian a smirk. The green-eyed boy was soaking wet after walking in the rain and took out his wand to dry himself, but instead came over to Sebastian and shook his head like a dog, spraying his friend with water.

Sebastian laughed and tried to kick Chris away, but he dodged, smirking.

“Well, I have to admit,” Sebastian said, watching Chris casting the drying spell on himself, ”it was a bit problematic to maintain the same level of chaos in the castle for the last two weeks. But I did my be –”

“Two weeks and four days,” objected Ominis hastily.  

Chris blinked in surprise and then beamed at the blond, who now was pursing his lips as if he said something wrong. Apart from that, Ominis looked just as collected and neat as usual, but something was off. Apparently, Chris got lost in his thoughts while watching Ominis because he didn't hear Sebastian asking him a question.

"Sorry, what did you say?" Chris returned to reality, realising that Sebastian was staring at him with a strange expression.

Sebastian suddenly clicked his tongue and exclaimed, "Blimey, look at the time! I've got to dash." He shut his book and jumped off the bed, heading towards the door.

"Wha – Why?" Chris furrowed, puzzled by his friend's sudden haste. 

"No time to explain – an urgent matter!" exclaimed Sebastian. As he ran past Chris, he tripped over and crashed into the other boy, shoving him towards the couch where Ominis was sitting. "My bad, guys! See you later!" And with that, he disappeared in the doorway.

Chris lost balance and landed atop shocked Ominis. He only managed to fling out his hand and prop it against the wall behind the couch to prevent himself from smashing into the blind boy at full speed. 

Ominis twitched and breathed out madly, “What the hell are you –“ trying to feel the intruder with his hands to understand what had happened. 

“It’s my knee,” commented Chris quietly when Ominis’s hand grasped the mentioned part of his body. 

“Sorry, I have no idea what gave Sebastian the impression I needed some flying practice,” uttered Chris. He attempted to stand up but froze halfway, looking at Ominis under him, their faces barely an inch apart.

Ominis, who could feel Chris’s breath on his lips, forced himself to speak through clenched teeth, "Oh, I will organise some flying practice for him later."

From the Astronomy tower.

An urgent matter. Of course, Sebastian did it on purpose. He was the only one who knew. 

_________

It had happened the night before.

A thud had pulled Sebastian out of his dream, and he had found Ominis on the floor on all fours, tangled in his blanket and groping around with trembling hands for his wand.

“Hey,” Sebastian kneeled beside his best friend, “I’m here, buddy. What has happened?” He found Ominis’s wand on the floor and pressed it into the blind boy’s palm. “Looking for this?” 

Ominis grasped the wand and sat on the floor, leaning heavily on his bed. 

“What has happened?” repeated the question Sebastian. “Was it a nightmare?”

Ominis, throwing his head backwards, only nodded slightly, his lips pursed.

“I thought they were gone,” said Sebastian, sitting on the floor next to Omins and realising it had been a long time since something like this had happened. 

“I thought so, too,” Ominis finally uttered, “but…it’s just…I guess it’s a…”

Sebastian waited for his usually composed and eloquent friend to find the right words in the silence of their dorm. 

“Him,” Ominis finally managed to say as if his throat was squeezed. 

_________

If someone at the start of his fifth year had told Ominis how much his opinion about Chris Mongrel would change, he would have offered them to visit St Mungo, just in case, to check their mental state. The new student had been just a class clown with a finger in every pie, not to mention that he had seemed to keep pulling Sebastian into dangerous activities.  

The Neophyte. It was what Ominis used to call that new show-off because the Heir of Slytherin was irritated by the new boy’s real name, pronounced by Sebatian too often. The new fifth year was manipulative, could lie with the most sincere expression and was the last person Ominis could think good of.

Nevertheless, of all people, it was Chris who eventually turned into the only source of warmth that could at least slightly dispel the cold of Dark Magic that Ominis found himself surrounded by - the cold of Sebastian’s despair. It was Chris who made great efforts to save Ominis’s friendship with Sebastian despite all the pressure he had on his shoulders due to the goblin rebellion. It was Chris who was there for him when Ominis needed it most, and if not for him, Ominis probably would have done another thing he would regret forever - turning Sebastian in. 

But then…Then Professor Fig died.

Chris became withdrawn and indifferent to anything around him, barely communicating with anyone. Even when he did, he was rude and obnoxious. By the start of their sixth year, Chris pushed away everyone. They didn’t talk for months. The only thing he paid attention to was lessons and schoolwork. Chris became an even more brilliant student than before. The teachers loved him. The students kept away. 

Some tried to bully him, but it looked like Chris just waited for this. His revenge was cruel enough to get him expelled. But the Hero of Hogwarts could make an innocent face when needed, and since he was the teachers’ favourite, he got away with everything.

Meanwhile, Ominis struggled with nightmares more than usual after the events of the fifth year. The scream of the muggle that he tortures with Crucio… this time followed by Avada Kedavra spell cast by him. Anne cries after burying Solomon, but this time, she blames Ominis for helping Sebastian find the relic. Sebastian killed his uncle, but this time, Ominis meets his best friend in Azkaban after turning him in. Chris disappears from the hospital wing in the turmoil after the fight for Hogwarts, but this time is found dead later. 

Ominis often couldn't fall asleep, and since being trapped with his thoughts in the night silence of their dorm was unbearable, he came to the common room after lights out. Chris seemed to deal with the same, so they often encountered each other there.  

The brunet usually would leave to sneak out of the castle without saying a word. As Ominis found out later, at best, Chris would sleep, curling up beside his "little" pet, Misha the Wolf, in the Forbidden Forest, because it was giving him the illusion of not being alone. At worst, he would indulge in that habit. The one that made Ominis feel cold inside. The habit of chasing for the opportunity to die. 

No, Chris didn't actually try to kill himself on purpose. But he never endeavoured to keep his life safe either. The boy simply didn't care. Whenever there was an opportunity to risk his life – Merlin knew how Chris managed to find them, whether it be killing a poorly trained troll or wandering into a cave full of Acromantulas just to find a thing of sentimental value for one of the nearby villagers – he would go for it eagerly. 

It lasted until the middle of their sixth year, when one night, Ominis found Chris bleeding in the Undercroft. The brunet didn’t want to go to the hospital; he had no Wiggenweld potions left and was generally too weak to care for himself. Ominis knew some basic healing spells – he had to learn them because of his idiot of a friend (for both of them, actually). 

Ominic treated the other boy’s wounds, clenching his teeth in silence. When he finished and was about to leave without saying a word, he heard that indifferent voice with a hint of mockery. The first words Chris had told him in the last half year.

"Thank you, Dr Gaunt. I'm looking forward to the next appointment."

Here, the author doubts whether it would be offensive to present Ominis’s answer as it was to the noble ears of the reader. So here is the censored version:

"Your life belongs to you, and I can't make you treat your belongings as I want, so I just ask you – No, I beg you – Keep. It. Safe. You lost someone you hold dear. I understand that. But you know what? You are not the only one here who came through this. And now you're endangering the life of another person I care about - and you don't even give me a chance to help him! You did so much to save my friendship with Sebastian. Why don't you even try to save ours?!" 

As mentioned above, it didn't sound like that exactly. It was pronounced in a mad voice and with a couple or two eloquent curses that were odd to hear from Ominis. Chris also didn't yet know that it was possible to beg someone for something by grabbing that someone by the collar and slamming them into a wall. 

Ominis had no idea how or why, but it seemed to have an effect. The next night, when they came across in the common room, Chris suddenly said “Hi” before leaving. Despite them being alone, Ominis wasn’t even sure it was addressed to him. The other night, they exchanged a couple of awkward words. The next night, they had a little meaningless conversation about a book Ominis was reading to distract himself. The night after, Chris suddenly offered to read aloud to Ominis. 

The next time, Chris suddenly stopped reading and put away the book to apologise for being a jerk all that time. That brought a string of heated discussions when slipping to blaming or resentment alternated with climbing the steep mountain of understanding each other.

Not every night was smooth. Too much had happened. Too much they both closed their hearts. But none of them stopped coming to the common room after lights out. 

Eventually, they rebuilt the wall they set up between each other into a cosy little house, in which both of them felt comfortable and knew where to put their shoes so that they wouldn't irritate the other one or which plaid to choose to cover the housemate when he was cold. It was the house they didn't want to leave, the house they could call home. In fact, it was the only place both of them could call home.

Chris became softer with others, too, and even though he still remained true to himself with most of them, being detached and manipulative, there was another side of him that only Ominis knew. The Chris, who was selfless, caring and reliable. Some might say he was too caring, as annoyingly overprotective as one can be. 

But for Ominis, it was an oasis he could immerse himself in and dissolve his unsettling thoughts. Floating in the void of his blindness and being raised in a family where the threat could come from any direction, Ominis perceived the world as precarious, to say the least. The price for this was his nightmares. 

Ominis used to hate nights, but now he couldn’t wait for when he and Chris would meet alone, following their unspoken tradition. He loved their conversations or just the silence they shared when they were too tired to talk, and he especially found pleasure in hearing the other’s voice, which was reading to him, quite deep and low for the owner’s age – the voice that soothed Ominis and filled him with warmth, the voice that made him feel safe.

First, Ominis began to fall asleep easier. Then, his nightmares started to fade until they dissolved almost completely. And then, in their seventh year, he found himself having new dreams. These were… good. Too good, but also causing concerns – dreams that were inappropriate towards a friend. 

Ominis wasn’t ashamed of them and cherished this new feeling that had bloomed in the soil, soaked with guilt, grief and fear. However, the boy was not going to reveal his secret and risk what he obtained, especially since Chris had never shown interest in a romantic relationship with anyone. 

Little did Ominis know how Chris’s absence would impact him. The longer the other was away, the more often Ominis woke up terrified because the old nightmares were returning. Last night seemed to be the last straw, so when Sebastian asked him what was happening to him, Ominis couldn’t stand it anymore. He needed to get all the emotions boiling in him off his chest. All the time, he wanted to tell Chris the truth, but was afraid. The way he missed the voice he loved so badly. 

He had told Sebastian the truth. 

He had fallen in love with their friend. 

The friend whose presence had made his nightmares disappear.   

_________

Ominis had made Sebastian swear he wouldn't tell Chris anything. But Sebastian wouldn't be Sebastian if he hadn't found a loophole in his promise. Why would he wait for his friends to take the first step towards each other if he could just throw one into another? It was a much more efficient way to shorten distances than steps, wasn't it?

If Ominis' thoughts weren't occupied by his current predicament and the panic growing in him because of Chris's proximity, he would be mad at Sebastian. Or should he thank him? How else could Ominis get a chance to become closer to the one who, although attentive in general, was absolutely oblivious when it came to romantic feelings? And thinking about it – really, how? Like this, by accident? That wasn't right.  

But Chris was so close. His warmth. His weight, pressing Ominis into the couch. His smell – the mixture of ink, pine and …was it Wiggenweld potion? 

Just like before. 

Did Chris need it again recently? Ominis hoped it had stayed in the past. 

Perhaps this concerning thought was the only thing keeping him from pulling Chris closer and reducing the little distance between them to nothing. In fact, Ominis knew that he had to push Chris away but hoped that Chris would be the one to get off the couch (and, well, him) first. For some reason, the brunet didn't hurry to do it.

Meanwhile, Chris used the opportunity to look at Ominis closer. The blond's face was crimson now, but it wasn't that that bothered Chris – just a normal human reaction to a violation of personal space. Chris had difficulties understanding what personal space is. Of course, it's better to keep away from people as much as possible – it's simply easier this way. But if you already interact with them – what's wrong if you stand too close to someone? 

But it mattered to others, and Ominis, Chris did know, valued his personal space even more than people usually did. Chris would have stepped away immediately if not for a detail that caught his attention – the dark circles under Ominis’s eyes. 

Just like before. 

When Chris had left half a month ago, he had thought Omnis would finally have an opportunity to rest from him. Deep down, he was always afraid – what if Ominis was spending so much time with him out of sheer politeness or, worse, pity? 

In his fifth year, Chris had been sure that if people were “kind” to him, it was just because they needed something from him. Why had Sebastian been so friendly with him when he had arrived at Hogwarts? Obviously, because of ancient magic, which could potentially be a key to healing Anne. All this nonsense about “friendship” was just a convention, a game played as long as it was beneficial, a fairytale to fantasise about. 

But then there was Ominis, who didn’t conform to the idea that friendship was a mere cooperation. For some reason, he cared for Sebastian no matter what, despite all the disadvantages. And then Chris began to doubt. What if friendship really existed as it was described in books? At least in rare cases? Inside, he always wanted to believe in it, but his rational side made fun of his naivety. But what if he did find a proof? 

It became important for Chris to save the friendship between the two Slytherins at all costs because if it fell, so would all his childish hopes that he, too, could be someone’s friend one day. 

Who was he to Ominis? Chris didn't lie to himself – of course, he was just a convenient tool to handle Sebastian. Anyway, he idolised Ominis like a magizoologist would worship a unique fantastic beast they had just discovered. 

And then Fig died. 

Sitting there, somewhere under Hogwarts, alone, absolutely alone as usual, next to the body of the only person closest to the notion of family Chris had ever had, the boy got mad at himself. 

Why is he so obsessed with others? Why does he still hope so desperately to obtain the illusion of family? To find a magical creature named ‘friend’ from fairytales? Why does he keep hurting himself with shards of shattered hope when he can just be alone and not care about anyone?

Sink or swim. It was always his motto in the orphanage. He was alone, and he always would be. Why did he suddenly start to hope for something else in Hogwarts? Stupid, he was so stupid. It was time to accept it and grow up. 

He had never valued his life. But after Fig had died, Chris started to hate that he was alive and often sneaked out of the castle in the hope that a particular goblin, troll or poacher would become the last.

Too bad he was good at surviving. 

Until that time in the Undercroft. Chris was finally so close to ending this meaningless turmoil. And then Ominis intervened. Of course, The Saint and Noble one had to heal The Loser to be even more perfect. 

But when Ominis was pressing him against the wall and kept yelling at him, Chris realised that the blond wasn't mad because of Chris's disdainful and arrogant attitude. The words that Ominis was spitting into his face weren't the words Chris had expected to hear. 

Ominis was desperate. For some reason, he was really afraid for Chris and valued his life more than Chris himself ever did – not for something, but in spite of everything, as if Chris were someone like Sebastian to him.

After Ominis had left, his words echoed in Chris's ears for a long time as he slid down the wall onto the dirty floor of the Undercroft. The person Ominis cared about? Their friendship? Could it be that Chris had been Ominis's friend all that time? The thought was totally new and shocking for him.

It was hard to believe in it. 

Impossible. 

But doesn’t rage often work like Veritaserum? And Ominis had been mad. He had been so mad that Chris feared that if he had said a word, Ominis would have killed him on the spot and become even madder.

When Hope, the dying creature with broken wings inside of Chris, tried to draw attention to itself, the boy became irritated that he wanted to listen to it again instead of kicking it away. But this new theory was worth investigating. What was he losing? 

Starting to speak with Ominis again was one of the hardest things he had ever done (and he had defeated Ranrok). What if he understood it all wrong and would just impose himself on the blind boy? What if their last interaction had at last destroyed whatever they had had? What if Ominis would just push him away, laughing? But the experiment should be continued. 

The results exceeded Chris’s wildest expectations. Ominis not only accepted him as if nothing had happened and gave him enough time to gather himself together to apologise. For some miraculous reason, Chris felt that Ominis needed his mere presence – not something from him – even when they just sat together next to the fireplace, listening to the quiet song of fire. 

Following the sink-or-swim motto, Chris wasn't used to caring for someone. But now he was ready to give anything at all, only to see Ominis smiling, to make him happy. And every time Chris succeeded, he couldn't be happier himself. He almost forgot that itching desire to find an excuse to risk his life. 

But when he was away, the old doubts began to haunt him. Why would someone so perfect as Ominis want to be around someone like Chris, whose life was just a mess? The guy without a past, broken present, and a future, whose arrival he was endangering. 

The more time he spent away from Ominis, the louder the voice in his head pushed him to do something stupid until it finally got the better of him. 

The incident with ashwinders only cost him one Wiggenweld potion. 

But it was enough to bring back memories of Ominis beating some sense into him in the Undercroft.

No matter what, Ominis wanted him safe. 

Chris had read that “I’d die for you” thing in some books. It didn’t make any sense to him because it didn’t sound like a big deal. He’d die for himself. But when he thought about Ominis’s words echoing around the Undercroft, he realised that for the moon-eyed boy he was ready to make a much more labour-consuming sacrifice. 

He’d live for him.

So Chris had made sure the last incident had been really the last one. 

Anyway, he had missed Ominis deeply, so seeing him today was a relief. But Merlin - the blond looked so tired. 

“You didn’t sleep well recently”, Chris said quietly, slowly running his right thumb under Ominis’s left eye.

That voice, the voice Ominis loved and missed so much, sounded so gentle, so concerned, and so…close. The touch felt like an electric jolt. Ominis’s head was spinning, the heart pounding in his ears and racing so fast, forcing his breathing to quicken, but it was a trap because he inhaled more of Chris’s smell now, and that was the end of Ominis’s composure. 

He reached out his hand and lowered it on Chris’s back of the head. Someone stop him! He ran his fingers through the short strands. That wasn't right! Clinging to the last echoes of reason, Ominis whispered, pulling Chris closer, “Aren’t you going to stand up? Someone might see us and jump to conclus –” 

The door flung open, revealing one of their housemates, a boy with jet-black hair and chocolate eyes, holding a book.

“Hey Ominis, you – ” he broke off. The short pause was followed by a flow of frantic “Sorry!” and the sound of rapidly fading footsteps.

Chris jumped off the couch and glanced at the retreating intruder. That was an impressive running speed, he had to admit. Perhaps they scared the boy even more than he did them. “Like this?” he asked, amused.

“Precisely like this,” Ominis sounded bitter. The warmth, the smell, the weight – everything disappeared, leaving him with his heart beating wildly. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and interlocking his fingers tightly. 

Chris tilted his head, watching the blond. Was Ominis so upset because that boy misinterpreted what he saw? The brunet wouldn’t care about it, but Ominis looked frustrated, which was something to care about. Chris had to fix it. 

”I…I will go and try to find him. Explain that it was a mistake,” he said, trying not to imagine what it would look like. 

Hi buddy! It wasn’t what you think it was. I fell on him. What? No, I normally don’t fall on people like this, so yeah, you’re safe. Chris shook his head. Maybe he would need to come up with a lie that would sound more plausible than the truth. But it was the problem of the future Chris.

“Right,” Ominis simply brought out. Chris was about to leave but suddenly stopped.

“Imissdyu,” he blurted, turning to the couch but averting his minty eyes from the boy on it, even though Ominis couldn't see him.

”I beg your pardon?” Ominis was baffled. If he didn’t know any better, he just heard, “I missed you.” But, of course, he knew better. Phineas Black would sooner smile at students heartily than Chris Mongrel would speak about feelings. 

"I…" It was Chris's turn to grow red even more intensively than Ominis a couple of minutes before. He knew the words were correct – he had read in books about people saying them to each other in similar circumstances, but Chris couldn't bring himself to repeat them. 

"Please, don't make me say it again. You heard it right."

After a short pause, he added, suddenly interested in the stone pattern on the floor, "Can I read to you tonight? I mean, as usual." Then, he would ask why Ominis didn't sleep well.

"I hoped you'd ask this," the blind boy finally smiled. Then, he would ask what made Chris drink the Wiggenweld potion.

“See you later then,” beamed Chris, relieved. He finally looked at the moon-eyed boy and was about to head out when Ominis’s voice stopped him.

“Chris?”

“Mhm?” 

“I missed you, too.” Only Ominis could smile like that – like the warm light of the lamppost sparkling on the snow. “Hear you later.”

“I…khm…yeah…Gotta go.” Chris made a few steps backwards toward the way out, still watching Omins, then turned around and crashed into a doorpost. “They… have to make the doors wider,” he said, leaving.

Ominis chuckled softly, listening to Chris’s fading footsteps. Then, a wave of panic washed over him again as he realised that mere minutes ago he could have ruined everything, succumbing to temptation. He rubbed his face with his palms, exhaling audibly. What was he thinking about? 

But now, everything was right. And tonight he will sleep better. Thank Merlin, the point of no return had not been reached. Or should he say thanks to the student that had broken into their dorm? 

Perhaps that guy will have another visitor today. 

------------------

The song from the epigraph. I wrote Chris's part while listening to it.

[temis-de-leon]

Opposites attract - 500 F.C.

Characters: Barbatos x male!reader

Main Masterlist

500 followers masterlist

Requested by: anon

CW: tall, muscular, bearded MC, because there aren't enough of those. Possessive Barbatos because he simps for his boyfriend. OOC, maybe? I don't think so, but you'll be the judge of that. Also, manhandling

.

Barbatos barely had any time to hear the stomping down the halls before the door opened with a bang and a couple of muscular arms hugged his body from behind with breath-taking force. He wheezed and grabbed the hands supporting his waist, but could only feel MC’s bearded face rubbing against his neck with excited giggles.

The whisk slowly sank in the batter and Barbatos sighed in defeat, finally indulging in the warmth behind him and whishing a certain prince wouldn’t barge in and burst the intimate bubble around them. Although his boyfriend smelt like sweat, which led him to believe he’d just been at the gym with Beelzebub, there was nothing in the three realms that would make him wish he weren’t where he was at the moment.

He knew there was a soft red hue across his cheeks and the unsteady beating of his heart filled his ears, surely loud enough for MC to hear as well. A few seconds passed before he was finally placed on the ground, but neither of them moved, swaying instead where they stood to the rhythm of silent music, the humming of the refrigerator and the wall clock’s ticking.

While Barbatos knew Lord Diavolo didn’t control the needs of his most demanding subjects, he couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit angry at him; disappointed even. It was childish and he was better than that, but he knew he had good reason to be bitter.

The heavy load of his work and the brothers’ incessant need of MC’s attention had left them little to no time for themselves, forcing them to cancel their very limited dates and reducing their daily messages to simple “good morning” and “good night” texts, and, while Barbatos knew sometimes sacrifices were necessary, MC didn’t seem to have the same mind-set.

Not like he wasn’t thankful for that.

They had agreed to visit an artisanal market downtown, a short timed event limited to scarce ingredients native to the Devildom which Barbatos had been extremely excited to use in various meals. Unfortunately, days went by without them having any time to go and left him sure he had lost the opportunity altogether.

It came to mind that, perhaps, MC’s intentions weren’t just to pay a quick visit and his suspicions proved to be correct when the deep comforting voice behind him spoke against his nape.

“What do you say we run away really quick and forget about everyone for a while?”

Barbatos chuckled before turning around, instantly causing MC’s smile. A big grin that made his eyes sparkle.

“While I would love to accept your proposal, I’m afraid I still have work to do”

He sighed, expecting disappointment from the cheery man, but that didn’t happen. Instead, he watched as MC walked to the freezer, grabbed a human beer bottle and opened it with the edge of the counter while smiling at Barbatos’s reprimanding gaze.

“You do know there’s a bottle opener in one of the cabinets, right, my dear?”

“And do you know today’s the last day the market’s going to be here?” he retaliated placing the bottle on his neck and sighing in relief at the coldness. Barbatos tried to seem unfazed about it “They’ll wrap up everything tonight and leave tomorrow morning”

“Tomorrow? Did they post the information somewhere?”

“No, honey, I just went with Lucifer yesterday to buy a couple of things for lunch. I asked one of the vendors”

“You went with Lucifer?”

MC nodded, ignorant to Barbatos’s cutting tone. There was a hint of possessiveness in their relationship that he wasn’t too happy to admit, but, at least, somehow, MC found it amusing. He was thankful for that and for being able to ignore it most of the time, but it was there after all.

And it made him want to have a nice chat with the eldest brother.

“Did you enjoy it?” he asked in the end, swallowing the bitterness.

MC shrugged his shoulders, having one last sip of beer before leaving the bottle on the counter and opening his arms in invitation. Barbatos rushed, embarrassed for a second at how quick and deep he’d fallen for the human.

His skin was warm, although not as much as before, and his arms were bulky enough to shield Barbatos from the outside world. He didn’t need it, never did and never asked for it, but he would be found dead before ever rejecting the gesture.

“I would’ve loved to go with you instead. That’s why I came here, to kidnap you”

That made him laugh and turn around, returning to the bowl of batter to rescue the long forgotten whisk. It was drenched in the mixture of sugar, eggs and flour and he knew by MC’s famished face that, if he didn’t wash it quickly, his beloved human would end up having an indigestion.

“You hang out with Beelzebub too much, MC”

“I wouldn’t if you came with me to the market” he answered with an exaggerated childish voice. “Gimme that, I’ll help you clean it faster”

“Absolutely not”

“Why not?”

“You’ll get sick!”

“No, I’m better than that”

“MC”

“Barbie”

They stared at each other, both of them trying to look serious with poorly kept smiles on their faces. MC crossed his arms, his biceps looking bigger than ever, and again Barbatos tried not to look too much.

“Come to the market with me”

“I have to finish baking for the Young Master…”

“Freeze the batter” he shrugged again “Can’t you do that?”

“Well, yes…”

“Then it’s decided”

Then, before Barbatos could react, MC grabbed the bowl and placed it in the freezer, next to the beer bottles the butler had ordered just for him days ago. He stayed still, too surprised to respond, and could only watch in mild disgust and fascination as MC licked the whisk clean before leaving it in the sink. He opened his mouth, not sure what to say, but his boyfriend acted faster again, bending down to hug his legs and throw him over the shoulder.

“MC...!”

“Let’s go, honey!” he interrupted him with joyfulness. “You’re making one hell of a dinner tonight!”

Barbatos knew he could easily get rid of MC’s grip and go back to the kitchen and his duties, but he’d be lying if he said he wanted to do that.

He hoped and wished Lord Diavolo wouldn’t need his presence for the next four to six hours, but, if he knew the prince as well as he knew he did, then he must’ve already known not to disturb him for the rest of the evening.

.

.

[swan-angelyc]

💚 Sebastian Sallow x Ominis Gaunt x MC Headcanons

Sebastian Sallow x MC x Ominis Gaunt, Gender Neutral MC, your house is left ambiguous, MC is based off of my own MC to some extent. CW: Mentions of fighting goblins, being injured AU: Everybody is 18+, and Hogwarts admits 18+ year olds instead of 11 year olds. Idk, little kids using magic doesn't sit well with me lol. If you gave 11 year old me magic, I would have turned everybody into toads. There isn't an 18+ section in here, but still. This contains spoilers for the game; read with caution if you have not played or finished the main story to its entirety. Enjoy!

Introduction —

Your first official day at Hogwarts was spent attending classes and meeting people; If you are Slytherin, you met both Sebastian and Ominis after waking up that morning. Despite their demeanours, they are quite nice to you, welcoming you and offering to help in any way they can.

Sebastian's reading a book; you catch him off guard, and he spits a "Can I help you", until he realizes you're the new student. After some friendly banter, he wishes you good luck, and resumes his reading.

Ominis, on the other hand, is smugly listening to first years trying to locate mermaids by the window. He smiles a little at hearing them cheer before he notices you standing by.

His kind nature was somewhat surprising, seeing as Slytherin wasn't known for its kindness, but him sympathizing with you about the dragon attack was more than appreciated.

It was safe to say both had liked you already, but if you're in another house, it's a different story. You gain Sebastian's respect and like of you after beating him at a duel; he's amazed that you beat him, and he commends your skill. He's chosen to take you to Hogsmeade, and he, yet again, commends you after you take down a troll.

Ominis doesn't quite like you yet, and he only does once Sebastian feeds him information about you. "You know there is such thing as trying too hard," he'll sneer as he walks past you. He's hard to impress. After the Undercroft incident, he threatened to exploit his father's relationship with the Headmaster. It was clear Ominis was not your biggest fan.

It takes a few adventures with him and Sebastian for him to like you, however. Ominis is not one to trust people so easily.

It takes a while before the feelings arise, but they propose a polyamorous ordeal. After all, the three of you are as thick as thieves, and nobody should be the awkward third wheel.

And so it was settled.

General —

— You are definitely the warrior of the group; your abilities make you a powerful ally, and whilst Sebastian is strong, you're much stronger. Ominis is your silent cheerleader. You won't hear him loudly shout praises, but you will be praised after any fights that take place.

— These fools cheer you on in any class. Charms, potions, whatever the case. After all, you are still new, and you'll need assistance. They're willing to give you a helping hand if you need it.

Ominis will offer a thumbs up. Sebastian's the one that loudly shouts about how well you're doing and how proud they are of you.

— Sebastian and Ominis differ in terms of personalities; they're still Slytherin, sure, but they have different traits. Sebastian's bold and charismatic, pulling you in with his occasional obnoxiousness. Ominis, on the other hand, is quiet, calm, and enigmatic; being an enigma is enough to make people want to know him.

This carries on into their love lives; Sebastian will haul ass and sacrifice himself for you...when it comes to getting in trouble. He will take the blame for you if you need to get into the restricted section, which is often. His loyalty is undying, and he won't leave either of your sides.

Ominis, on the other hand, is protective and excellent with his words. He will talk people out of hurting you or even yelling at you. Do not let his blindness fool you, he is an absolute master when it comes to being a wordsmith.

— You take constant trips to Hogsmeade. Non-alcohol butterbeer is so worth the walk, despite sometimes being tedious. Because you have a ton of galleons from your adventures, you can buy pretty much anything, and they always marvel at that fact.

Sebastian - "Can we buy the entire stock at Honeydukes?"

Ominis - "...Sebastian, no. [Name], don't."

You - "I mean...I've been tempted before..."

— They are more than fascinated by the adventures that you take, but both become concerned about your safety. They dislike it when you leave for more than a few hours. If you have to leave for days without end, it becomes a requirement that you send letters so they know you're okay. Sebastian doesn't doubt your safety. You beat a damn troll!

But Ominis is like a mother hen. He stays concerned until he hears your voice and touches your skin.

— Due to your constant travels all over the land, you become friends with many creatures. Some are mountable, others are brought into the Room of Requirement for materials and for a better life. Sebastian's amazed by the things and creatures in your bag, eventually growing eager at the fact that-

"YOU HAVE A HIPPOGRIFF ON YOU?"

Ominis cringes at Sebastian's excited tone, but the blind man simply raises a brow, "Is that true?"

Which then leads to rides on Highwing. Well, Sebastian rides her. Ominis facepalms as you snicker at Sebastian's excitement.

Ominis, however, does enjoy petting your Puffskein. He claims it's like a "walking pillow".

Both are shocked at the fact that you have a family of Thestrals in your Room of Requirement.

— You don't always wear the Hogwarts uniform; when you come back wearing a black outfit with a cape, Sebastian whistles. "Damnnn."

Ominis loves feeling the material; it's surprisingly soft.

— Outside of classes, you three spend your time together, always. The undercroft and Hogsmeade are your favourite places to go. However, sometimes, one of you is busy; you have battles to face, Sebastian has Anne, and Ominis has to worry about his family back at home.

On the days where only you and either boy remain, activities vary. Sebastian will roam the castle with you, talking non-stop. Talking is something he enjoys quite a lot. Sometimes you visit Anne and wish her well. Other times you duel. He knows he won't win against you, but it's fun regardless! Besides, you're partners in Twisted Wands, he needs to practice.

Ominis enjoys more quiet activities. A nice walk through the gardens as you hold hands, letting him read to you...

His wand allows him to 'see', but only shadows. He can't see proper colours. He'll ask you to describe them to him, though.

— The three of you click, as you are all suffering hardships; you are fighting 2 different factions at once whilst balancing schoolwork, Ominis despises his family and his name, and Sebastian's sister being sick, alongside his uncle being a prick aren't helping him whatsoever.

It becomes even worse when you lose Fig; the battle at Hogwarts lead to his demise, and you gave all of your strength to keep Ranrok at bay. Whilst the professors and the headmaster gave a speech about Fig, Ominis and Sebastian held you close.

— Being injured isn't a common occurrence to you; you have Wiggenweld potions, Edurus potions, and you're basically agile. During the occasional times when you ARE injured, they make sure you stay and rest. Whether in bed, or with them.

— Ominis sometimes has to keep you two in line, seeing as you're a glutton for adventure, and Sebastian loves sneaking into places he's not supposed to be.

But he wouldn't have it any other way.

[devildomwriter]

First Things They Say to MC

Lucifer

“I will explain everything to you.” — (1-1)

Mammon

“Huh? Who the hell are ya? You ain’t Lucifer.” Or “Are ya foolin’ around? Who the hell are ya?” — (1-1)

Leviathan

“Do you realize what just happened? Mammon used you as a distraction to get away from me. …Or maybe I should say he used you as a sacrifice. I’ll admit that mammon is one of the scummiest scumbags you’ll ever meet…a total lowlife. But still, that was pretty dumb of you letting him use you like that.” *sigh* “This is EXACTLY why humans are— …Wait a second. Humans…yes, that’s it… Suddenly, I’ve got an idea. Listen, are you free right now? Of course you are. You’ve gotta be, right? You know what? Never mind. Either way, you’re coming with me.” — (1-10)

Satan

“Aha. So I’m that one, am I? Nice to meet you MC. I am Satan, the avatar of wrath.” — (1-2)

Asmodeus

“That’s right! It pretty much sums up what I’m about! Including my power. Let’s give a little demonstration! MC, could you gaze into my eyes for a moment? It’s okay, I don’t hurt you. Come on don’t be shy… …Wait a minute. There’s something about you…hmm…” — (1-2)

Beelzebub

“I’m Beelzebub, the avatar of gluttony.” — (1-2)

Belphegor

“…el… …elp… Help… Someone help me… Help… ….Over here! — (2-15)

Solomon

“Hey, you there. That’s right, I’m talking to you, the human with that frightened, tormented look on your face that demons love so much. You’re practically screaming, ‘Come and eat me! I’m scrumptious!’ Your name’s MC, isn’t it?” — (2-2)

Thirteen

“Ahahahaha! Ooh, that was just hilarious! You walked RIGHT into my trap! Well done, Mr. Bucket 3! WELL DONE!” or “Ugh, what was THAT?! Honestly, I don’t believe it! Mr. Bucket Number 3 was supposed to land on your HEAD not the floor!” — (65-3)

Simeon

“Well, hello, MC. I’ve heard a lot of rumors!” — (2-13)

Luke

“Never trust…mmrmhrm.” — (2-15)

Raphael

“…I have to say, I take that as an insult. You think I’m Michael? I do not appreciate being mistaken for that socially inept weirdo. My name is Raphael. Try to remember that in the future.” or “Correct.” or “…Wrong. If you don’t know, say so. Don’t just guess at random. My name is Raphael.”

Michael

“Hello there, MC.” *sigh*… “Here I am, finally getting to talk to you, and it had to be in a situation like this… Can you hear me, MC?” — (38-17)

Little D. No. 2

“Hello there, I’m Little D. No. 2! Ah, but call me Number Two if you would, mmkay?” — (7-10)

Mephistopheles

“Don’t touch that! …So, it’s you. It’s bad form to pick up someone else’s documents and start looking through them, you know? Don’t they teach you that in the human world?” — (63-1)

Barbatos

“…Ah yes, pardon me. I suppose we haven’t met before, have we? My name is Barbatos. I apologize for not introducing myself sooner. I have the honor of serving as steward to Lord Diavolo. Pleased to make your acquaintance.” — (2-13)

Diavolo

“Welcome to the devildom MC. …Oh pardon me. Feeling a bit shocked, are we? Well, that’s understandable. You’ve only just arrived after all. As a human it will probably take a while for you to adjust to things here in the devildom.” — (1-1)

[most-datable-datable-bracket]

ROUND 2 MATCH 63

Chloe propaganda:

“main love interest for the playable character (there's another option but he's generally not liked) she's badass, she's supposed to die but the player changes her fate, they were childhood friends but had a fallout but eventually met again, she lost her dad and previous friend/girlfriend (she appears in the prequel and the relationship is dependant on how the player wants it to be) she has blue hair she says the word hella a lot and (spoiler) by the end you either have to sacrifice her or the town it's one of those really depressing games”

“My Gay Awakening <3”

Mammon propaganda:

“He was done dirty in the first round, I hope he wins this time because he deserves it 

First of all, he hates you at the start but then he starts to like you but he exclaimed his hate too much at the start so he can't admit it 

Everyone knows that he likes MC, even his little D (who are demons familiars) thinks that they should date 

He is a classic tsundere but doesn't actually hurt you like other tsunderes but he is so bad at hiding his feelings that everyone is just ignores it 

He is the avatar of greed, meaning he is clingy which may be a turn away for some people but he cares for you so so much 

He has never turned into his demon form to hurt you (Asmo hasn't but he has tried to seduce you with his power)

Don't get me started on his story cards, he literally is so cute

He wants to be a mentor to Luke, like Lucifer was to him, he is only mean to Luke because he wants Luke to learn about how life isn't all sunshine and rainbows

He is also so hot, he is a bisexual panic 

He is bullied by his brothers but he cares for them so so much despite their bullying

I am so in love with him and have written so many fics about him 

Anyway, I'm going to stop here because otherwise I'll be here all day”

[pyr0man1c]

I’m using you as an excuse to rant about it. You are my sacrifice. Bugza.

Spoiler warning

Obey Me! Shall we date? Is a mobile otome game and anime were the MC (you, the player) gets chosen to be a human exchange student for RAD (Royal Academy of Diavolo) where you are taken down to the Devildom (hell) but you end up stuck as a small pink sheep due to not being used to the demon realm.

You were brought to the demon realm to be a human representative of the human world, to help make peace between worlds, being the celestial realm, human world, and Devildom.

You are introduced to the character Diavolo, the Prince of Devildom and heir to the throne, the Avatar of Pride, Lucifer, is introduced as Diavolo’s right hand man.

Lucifer puts you in the care of his younger brother and Second oldest, Avatar of Greed, Mammon, Lucifer giving you a D.D.D (Diavolo’s Devildom Device) which is the human world equivalent to a regular cell phone.

You are told to call Mammon to inform him of his role as your guide, where he very happily says “no” and only agrees once Lucifer starts counting down from 3, Mammon being scared of his brother Lucifer.

You are made to live in the HoL (House of Lamentation) with the 7 deadly sins/Avatars.

Avatar of Pride, Lucifer.

Avatar of Greed, Mammon.

Avatar of Envy, Leviathan.

Avatar of Wrath, Satan.

Avatar of Lust, Asmodeus.

Avatar of Gluttony, Beelzebub.

Avatar of Sloth, Belphegor.

Lucifer is obviously prideful and the strictest of his brothers, being the leader of the HoL. He doesn’t admit he is in the wrong or take anything from anyone to keep his pride. He is the owner of the three headed dog Cerberus after managing to tame him. His banner animal is a Peacock

(I fucking love male peacocks their so amazingly stupid)

Mammon is a greedy demon who will steal and get himself in trouble just to fill his desires for riches and valuables, he is a tsundere that refuses to admit he cares for MC, calling himself their “First man.” His banner animal is a crow.

Leviathan is a self deprecating shut-in otaku, refusing to listen to “normies” including MC. He adores the character Ruri-Chan, having many anime and game figures around his room. He had a pet snake named Henry 1.0 named after a character from his favorite book series, Tale of The 7 Lords, before he lost the snake, replacing it with a fish he named Henry 2.0. He is the admirable of hells navy and can summon Lotan. His banner animal is a snake.

Satan is the book worm 4th born who loves cats and reading, he hates Lucifer and hates when people mistake him for Lucifer and when they’re compared. Satan was born after Lucifer tore off his own wings out of wrath against god for the death of Lilith, leading to only two pairs of wings to grow back while the last pair formed Satan, made from Lucifer’s wrath and hatred, even having some of Lucifer’s memories from the celestial war. His banner animal is a unicorn. (I giggle at this)

Asmodeus is the narcissistic and sexual brother, always bragging about his looks and how he’s the prettiest person to exist, saying he looks better than someone after complimenting them. It is revealed that he is insecure about being a demon, missing his beautiful white wings and angelic aura, now finding disgust in his demon form. In later seasons he admits he loves MC as much as himself. His banner animal is a scorpion.

Beelzebub is the always hungry older twin, he is constantly raiding the kitchen and anywhere for food, never being able to satiate his hunger. (Personally) he is one of the nicest and caring brothers, talking a lot about how he misses his brother who is said to be in the human world, when he’s actually locked in the attic by Lucifer for disobeying Diavolo. He regrets the death of Lilith, after he tried to save Belphegor but Lilith getting killed in the process, blaming himself for it. His banner animal is a fly.

Belphegor is the cat napping younger twin, constantly sleeping and napping, he was locked in the attic by Lucifer for disobeying Diavolo, hating the humans and blaming humans for Lilith death, he tries to convince MC that he is a human like us that was trapped by the demons but we find out that’s a lie and he’s actually a demon, he gets us to help him out by making pacts with his brothers, he thanks us by asking to give us a hug, where he strangles us to death before we are brought back to life. His banner animal is a cow. (I accidentally got lesson 16 spoiled to me)

We are told to make pacts with the brothers by Belphie to get him out.

We make a pact in order with:

Mammon

Leviathan

Beelzebub

Asmodeus

Satan

And then Lucifer.

Lucifer is the most difficult for us to get, him refusing to make one with us due to thinking we have an ulterior motive (we do) but give a different excuse to why we want a pact, saying we want to prove our worth to him as the human exchange student.

Mammon is one you make the quickest. Ofc.

The Royals.

The royals consist of Lord Diavolo and Barbatos.

Diavolo is the demon prince and heir to the throne of Devildom, Diavolo is serious when he needs to but is a very nice and overall lighthearted character. He does not have a good relationship with his father, the current king of Devildom but is in a deep sleep, his son Diavolo taking his role while still Prince. His mother died while giving birth to him, and he thinks it’s possibly why his father was so strict and hard in him, blaming Diavolo for his mothers death.

Barbatos is the royal Butler to Diavolo, being a neat and orderly character, he is known as a the Greatest Pastry Chef, and being very good with tea and being a tea expert, he played a big role in Diavolo’s life, even as a child. Barbatos became Diavolo’s butler after a child Diavolo lured Barbatos into the castle with rare tea leaves, Diavolo saying barbatos couldn’t leave until he agreed to be his butler, Barbatos later said he thought this interaction was adorable. No one knows when Barbatos was born, or how long he’s been around, but he’s been around before the world and Devildom itself. Barbatos would not hesitate to destroy a building over a rat.

The Angels

The angels consist of Simeon and Luke.

Simeon is a very polite and caring Archangel , he is here for the exchange program as a representative for the celestial realm, he doesn’t hate anyone or anything. He is a writer going under the Pen Name Christopher Peugeot. He is a great cook and a mentor for Luke alongside Barbatos.

Luke a young Angel, about 10 in human years, he is the youngest of the group (except for MC he’s been around for centuries maturity wise tho he’s young) he doesn’t like demons especially Lucifer, but really likes Barbatos, being taught by him in baking and being mentored by him. Hes constantly being made fun of by the demon brothers, specifically Lucifer, and Mammon, having the nicknames, “Chihuahua”, “Fido”, and “Dog” making him very irritated whenever he’s called them.

The Sorcerer

There’s only one sorcerer, being Solomon.

Solomon is a representative of the human world, he’s a very powerful sorcerer, having 72 pacts with demons, including Barbatos. Barbatos holds a grudge throughout Obey Me! Nightbringer, which the sorcerer doesn’t even remember why, it is later revealed that Barbatos was upset he was placed 8th on Solomon’s pact list, being petty about it and hating Solomon (Drama queen Barbie). Despite Solomon being a skilled sorcerer and great with potions and mixing ingredients, this does not translate in his cooking abilities, often making his food a biohazard for anyone to consume and a danger for botulism, but he does not realize and thinks his food is fine.

The Human

You are the human, the MC, that little sheep.

You were brought to Devildom as the second human exchange student for the program, your avatar was made a sheep and the game uses they/them pronouns to make the game as inclusive to any player. You are the Main Character.

Anyways that’s what happens when you say you don’t know what my interest is about @blackoutbugza this is the consequences of your words. Thanks for a reason to rant tho:)

[lostcauses-noregrets]

Lost, I think Erwin was only in 65% of the manga/anime, yet I don't think anyone has ever left such a long-lasting impression on the audience. He ranks higher than the mc in the character polls, and he even once ranked higher than Levi. People still love and praise him even though he's been dead for years. Why do you think this is? What makes him such a compelling character?

I’ve been sitting on this ask for months because it feels like such a huge responsibility to answer it. What is it that makes Erwin Smith such a compelling and enduringly popular character, despite having been written out of the story years ago? 

The most obvious reason is that Erwin is a well written character with considerable depth.  He is a brave and inspiring military commander who leads from the front and dies heroically, laying down his life to ensure the main characters live to fight another day. He plays a pivotal role in the story and, long after he dies, continues to be a motivating force for several other characters. He’s also pretty easy on the eye, which does no harm either. 

However characters like this are ten a penny in manga and anime so I don’t think this is enough to explain Erwin’s enduring appeal.  There’s a very interesting interview with Isayama from 2016 where he talks about coming to understand Erwin’s character, which I think gets to the heart of the matter.  

“...for Erwin, there’s no person I can easily compare him to…The main reason for that is probably because I didn’t have anyone in my life who was an “insightful leader” like my initial portrayal of Erwin. Of course, I’m sure there were people who were “insightful leaders” to a certain degree around me, but—and this is likely due to a quirk of my own personality—the grander a person, the more my eyes are drawn to the places where they’re frayed, or are coming apart at the seams. Armin once said of him, “If a person existed who was capable of bringing change, they would have to be able to sacrifice things that are important to them.” Erwin is certainly someone who can do that, but because I had no one in reality to model him on, and because I, the creator, had no shred of an “insightful leader” within myself to use either, I think I ended up making Erwin more and more human as I went along. Lately, though, I’ve started enjoying drawing Erwin. To put it simply, I think it’s because I am now able to write Erwin not as the “insightful leader,” but as he is inside my heart, an Erwin who is very complex inside."

And Erwin is a very complex and conflicted character.  He’s also a deeply unreliable narrator who sees his own actions in the very worst possible light. He has the ability to motivate others to great feats of heroism, but at the same time he sees himself as a fraud and a conman.  He carries a huge burden of guilt over his father’s death, yet he isn’t driven by vengeance, what drives him forward is the pursuit of knowledge and his desire to prove his father’s theories were right. He is a ruthless commander, willing to sacrifice countless soldiers to achieve his goal, but he also devised a Scouting formation that saved numerous lives. He is also quite literally haunted by all the men and women who died under his command.  He’s incredibly insightful and intelligent, always thinking several steps ahead of everyone else, but he isn’t invulnerable to being manipulated by unscrupulous characters like Zackley, who was able to spot his weakness. He believes that he alone is pursuing his own selfish dream, despite all the characters having their own dreams and motivations. Yet despite his misgivings, he is able to set aside his dream, and lay down his life for the greater goal of saving humanity. He presents an implacable facade to the world, yet he privately admits to wishing he could end his life.  So many deeply human contradictions. 

Although Erwin is a hugely compelling character in his own right, I don’t think we can overlook the importance of his relationship with Levi, who of course is the most popular character in the series (sorry Eren).  Regardless of whether you ship them or not , it’s impossible to ignore the importance of Erwin’s relationship with Levi (and vice versa). I’ve written reams over the years about Erwin and Levi’s relationship, which I’m not going to repeat here, but I am going to point the famous quote from Ono Diasuke who described Levi as the last stronghold of Erwin’s humanity, because that’s what is really important.  

Ultimately Erwin is a complex, contradictory human being and it’s his humanity, rather than his heroism, and the emotional conflict at the heart of his character that continue to fascinates and move people.

[kyndredravenstories]

Eyes of Infinity: Delirium Chapter 1

Hello, I have been posting my work on AO3 and recently decided to venture here to Tumblr. Please note: This story is 18+. No minors. Please read tags carefully. Link to AO3 below but I will also be posting the chapters here.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/53564641/chapters/148132144

Pairing: Sylus/Female MC with some elements of Xavier/Female MC

Genre: Romance, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Angst, Adventure, Smut, Porn with Big Plot and Big Feelings

Content Warning (For the entire fic): Explicit sexual content, spoilers and alterations to existing lore and cards/memories/tender moments/secret times, size kink, size difference, vaginal sex, cunnilingus, anal sex, fingering, all kinds of fingering, elements of consensual somno, dom!Sylus, jealousy, possessive!Sylus, Mephisto stalking, typical game violence, battle and combat

Summary: To love him meant stepping over the threshold and crossing into darkness. To be with him meant accepting the lure of the shadows. And to protect him from betrayal meant sacrifice. I knew not how, only that I would not let time sever our paths ever again.

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"Trapped in the abyss, I long for you in this delirium. There's so much to say, but I'm silent. Too much time has passed since I held you, and now I fear that my love will just break you. So, into the darkness I go to protect you. Yet, no matter where I roam or how far I fall, half of my heart is always with you. "

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Wrong place. Wrong time. Wrong people. Wrong everything.

Wrong wrong wrong.

I never should have volunteered to go on this trip!

Over and over, that mantra loops in my mind, cranking up the pressure of my rising anger so tight that my teeth grind together painfully. Sulking in a petulant silence, I wrap the worn hotel quilt tighter around my shoulders to keep out the chill. The furnace is blasting, but it's not enough to warm me up after a thorough dousing in freezing rain. 

I'm on high alert despite my misery. My gaze never strays from the man across from me on the narrow couch. Wariness and suspicion keep my back and shoulders tense even as I shiver in my sodden and frozen clothes. My eyes follow his long fingers as they absentmindedly manipulate the phone screen held between a pair of large hands.

Sharing the raggedy couch with me is none other than Sylus, though his demeanor is a far cry from mine. Despite the glowing and hissing Linkage wrapped like a manacle around his wrist, he sits with his legs crossed and his body relaxed. His blood red eyes take in a virtual Auction on the TV while his free hand makes sales and purchases on his phone.

A gun sits beside him on the armrest, but it doesn't concern me. This man needs no physical weapon to be terrifying. It is his Evol that's the true threat. That, and his ruthless and calculating nature. It's not a struggle to remember just how cruel and merciless he can be, even as he looks perfectly divine and statuesque while sitting still.

Yet, it's not his past or his reputation that has me wringing my hands and forcing myself to breathe deeply in order to stay calm.

It's an internal moral battle that has me on edge - one that's been tormenting me for months.

It's the struggle between knowing I am less than three feet away from the most dangerous man I've ever met and also admitting that I find him impossibly disturbingly attractive. Not just his looks. One doesn't need to have good vision to appreciate this man's allure. It's the conundrum that makes up all that he is.

A dangerous man who has taken lives many times before. A man that forced me to point a gun to his chest and shoot. A man whose mere name is enough to make monsters fall in line. Yet also, a man that's saved my life. A man who smiles at me and teases me. A man I've danced with on more than one pleasant occasion. 

A bottomless, tempting, mystery.

Outside, a storm howls and thunders just like my thoughts. Periodic flashes break through the murky grey skies, each noise grinding on my nerves. I've had a bad day already; worse than bad. But, I dare not wonder how it could possibly get worse. That's what got me in trouble at the train station in the first place when I stepped out into a blizzard without any kind of weather gear to learn that the staff had misplaced my bags and luggage.

I'd wondered, then, how things could get worse.

Precisely one hour after, fate dropped this confounding man into my path. Then, precisely ten minutes after that, our Evols had locked us together.

With a crack of lightning, my patience snaps.

"Oi...Sylus..."

He doesn't look at me as he answers. "What is it?"

His voice is soft, like velvet; he sounds bored, though I'd never been able to read any of his thoughts or predict any of his actions.

I hate how calm he is.

I hate that despite running beneath the rain to make it to the hotel, he seems to be a lot more dry than me. His hair isn't dripping wet like mine, though his grey designer sweatshirt does cling to his muscular chest more than I'm comfortable observing.

I clear my throat.

"You've spent the last two hours calmly bidding on who knows what while we're trapped here. You've bought enough weapons to stock an armory. Just how the hell are you so relaxed?"

Still tapping away on his phone, Sylus maintains a calm and neutral expression. "It's not like there's anything I can do to remove this at the moment," he wiggles his Linked arm, tugging on my own manacle in the process.

I grind my teeth to the point of pain, forcing down my irritation as water drips from my hair onto the quilt. "Fine. Time for you to answer some questions, then."

"Ask away," he hums in that composed and arrogant tone that always riles me up. He sounds about as interested in this conversation as a tired Hunter recruit at orientation. And no wonder; despite the murky weather, it is only 2:00 PM. For Sylus, it's the middle of the night. He's likely exhausted, but I'm not feeling particularly empathetic at the moment.

"First question. I travel to the Arctic, 3688 kilometers away from the N109 Zone. I lose my luggage and get caught in a ferocious rainstorm on my way to the hotel. I then bump into you. Why?"

He finally glances at me, and my heart leaps into my throat when the emptiness in his crimson orbs twinkles with a hint of amusement. The corner of his full lips turns up just enough to transform his expression from annoyed to mildly entertained. On Sylus's face, this looks like a kind of hunger; like a hawk catching sight of a mouse.

"I'm also curious," he drawls, making me squirm in my seat. "I would have thought that the Hunter's Association would take better care of their employees."

I glare at his flippant reply, and he rests the side of his head gracefully on his hand, leaning against the nearby armrest.

"I don't often take vacations, and yet here I saw a familiar face. A lost little dove that needed my protection, if you will."

I huff, wrinkling my nose. "I already told you. I'm the farthest thing from a small animal that needs looking after, especially by a predator like you."

The amusement lingers in his gaze, and I press on.

"Second question. I'm here for a symposium with the Arctic Hunters in this hotel. What about you? Are you here to turn yourself in?"

"You didn't book the entire hotel. I have the money, and they had a vacant room. Why can't I stay here?"

His calm and steady logic sours my mood even farther. Seething now, I raise my Linked arm.

"Third question. Why does this blasted tether's duration increase every single time?" My anxiety eats away at my bravado, and my voice wavers. "What if it doesn't go away when the event starts later tonight?"

Sylus doesn't seem bothered by that prospect. He shrugs, his eyes fading back to those of a bored bystander. "We can go together. Probably."

I can't help it. I snort at his proposal. "Oh yeah, I should definitely introduce my Hunter friends to the renowned leader of Onychinus."

"All you can do is pray for divine intervention, then. Remember piety is key," he advises, his voice overflowing with sarcasm.

I give him a withering glare. "That's rich, coming from you."

Feeling defeated, I stare at the Evol Linkage that's impossible to cut. "This thing didn't bind us together for no reason. There has to be a way to break it."

Sylus tilts his head, frowning. "How? You were asleep the last two times it untethered itself. You even pinned down my arm. It was very inconvenient."

Heat rushes up into my cheeks at the memory. I try not to think about how close I've gotten to this man over the last half a year. To say he makes me uncomfortable is an understatement, mostly because it is not the kind of discomfort one feels when one is close to an enemy. Instead, it's the kind of feeling that makes it impossible to meet his gaze directly for too long. The kind of frustration that has my eyes lingering over his long-legged muscular form far too often.

I hate being close to him. Hate the way his hair, even when mussed, falls perfectly over the side of his face. Hate the sculpted line of his jaw and the attractive ridges and dips of his neck and his shoulders. My fingers squeeze into my palms, remembering how it felt to wrap measuring tape around him during our escapade in the boutique a few weeks back.

"You've been staring at me quietly for some time. Isn't there a fourth question coming?" He leans back against the pillows, and I have to wonder for the hundredth time whether this arrogant and sly man can actually read my mind.

"You have a point, Sylus," I concede. "What if we recreate the circumstances of when the Linkage disconnected itself? We should be able to figure out the trigger, right?"

Sylus glances at his phone, dismissing me. "That sounds more like superstition than science. Do you expect me to lull you to sleep?"

"Do you have a better idea?"

He lets out a short breath, rubbing a furrow between the wings of his graceful eyebrows. Pinching the bridge of his aquiline nose, he waves his hand in the air. Black mist rises up and swishes around the room, shutting all the blackout curtains and leaving us in near darkness. The only light remaining is a small desk lamp. He glances at me, curled up in my quilt as far from him as possible. His eyes glitter as he motions for me to come close.

"Alright, then, sweetie. Time for bed."

There's a sudden intimacy in his voice. It cuts me to the quick, stealing my breath and numbing my mind. I can hardly formulate an immediate response.

"I'll get water on you," I grumble, glad for the darkness; glad he can't see how red my face must be. That's another thing I hate. His pet names for me. At least, I try to hate them. Lately, hearing them makes my heart beat just a little faster.

"I'm not perfectly dry myself," he says, running a large hand down his chest.

"Still..."

"Then you should change. Unless you want to catch a cold."

"My luggage was lost, remember?" I wrap the quilt tighter around myself. "Besides, there's no way I can change while I'm chained to you."

I inwardly curse as I shiver again. This time, Sylus notices. His smile grows, and he gestures for me to approach again.

"Come on, kitten. Last time I checked, I'm not going to melt if I get some water on me." His voice deepens as he adds. "I'll even warm you up."

I squirm in my seat again, now entirely against moving anywhere near him. Something still hangs in the air between us, the same charged atmosphere that I experienced while taking his measurements and asking for his help picking out a dress at the boutique.

Seeing my reluctance, he rubs his fingers on his lips thoughtfully. "Alright, then. Suit yourself. But I somehow doubt you can fall asleep when you're shivering like a rabbit in a snare."

My eyes narrow. "Stop comparing me to small animals. It's rather insulting, considering that I fight just as well as you do."

It's a lie, of course. Sylus's power is incomparable, but I can hold my own at his side for the most part.

I try to cross my arms angrily, but the Linkage stops me. Though I yank hard on the chain, Sylus might as well be a boulder. His wrist doesn't move an inch.

"Just calling it as I see it," he continues to tease, his gaze unyielding and unwavering. "The way you look now," his eyes scan me up and down, "reminds me of a grumpy, hungry, and very tired kitten."

My eyes can't help but follow his hand as he continues to stroke his full lips. Hypnotized, I hardly hear it when he asks me a question in turn.

"You are hungry, aren't you? We've been here several hours, and I doubt someone as frugal as you would have splurged to buy something on the train."

My stomach chooses that moment to let out a rather loud groan of protest. Mortified, I sink into my quilt and look away from him. Sylus chuckles softly.

"I can order room service, at least."

"No!" I rush to stop him when he reaches for his phone. As I lunge for his hand, he grabs my wrist and pulls me into his lap. It's awkward. It's embarrassing. He's as large as a full grown grizzly bear, and he makes me feel completely helpless and tiny when I'm close to him. It's a thrilling kind of feeling, and one that I also really truly want to despise...

...but can't.

I squirm to get away from him, but he holds fast. In moments, I'm settled in his embrace, left with no options for escape.

"Shall I sing you a lullaby?" he asks sarcastically.

"Please don't. Being draped over you like this is bad enough."

We sit in silence for a time, my heart beating faster and faster as his body heat begins to seep into me. He's like a furnace, and soon I start to overheat. His chest undulates with deep steady breaths. His toned abs burn into my back; his huge arm wraps around me, shackling me in place just like the Linkage on my wrist. I can smell his aftershave, and it does terrible things to my rational mind.

"Sylus, I can't do this. I'm uncomfortable. The couch is too small. Let's try something else."

"As if," he sighs then yawns.

With his hand laying casually on my stomach, I can't relax at all. In an attempt to steer myself back in a morally acceptable direction, I run one of my fingers across the back of his hand. His palm is like two of mine. His skin is a mixture of smooth expanse and rough spots at points where it would normally rest against a weapon in combat. His knuckles are rough, too. Realizing that I'm taking liberties, I scramble to move my hands away and mutter an apology.

"Did you find something interesting on my hands?"

"Just remembering how much blood is on them," I say spitefully.

Instantly, I regret my sharp tongue. I squeeze his thumb apologetically and nearly jump out of my skin when his free hand strokes the ends of my hair.

"Then, I suppose it's a good thing you're not squeamish." His voice is softer now, but I don't trust myself to look up at him.

"This really isn't going to work," I tell him again. "Please, Sylus. Let's' try something else."

"I give you an inch...and you take..." his voice drifts off.

Silence, then.

"Sylus?" I whisper in the darkness.

No way. He did not just fall asleep while in the middle of a sentence. The tension drains out of me all at once, and I rest my head against his chest so I can see his face. Sure enough, his eyes are closed, his face relaxed in repose. He's resting the side of his face on the hand that was just stroking my hair, long black lashes fanning out on his regal cheekbones.

He's devastatingly handsome, like an artist sculpted his features from the finest alabaster. 

My chest tightens. All my frustrations aside, to think that a man like Sylus could fall dead asleep in a strange room with a strange woman tethered to him is unthinkable. Either his confidence exceeds my expectations or...

He trusts me.

I let that sink in for a minute, frustrated when the knowledge leaves me even more confused.

In the last six months, we've been through quite a few ordeals and crazy situations together. He's become a rather constant presence in my life, enough for me to worry when I didn't hear from him for several days. Enough, too, for me to dream about tending to his wounds.

But, even after spending all that time with him, I'm still processing all the things he makes me feel.

He scares the hell out of me. But, I feel absolutely safe with him. I can rely on him in a pinch. If I ask him to, he will clear obstacles out of my path. But, too often, he ends up being an obstacle and a source of strife himself.

I stroke the back of his hand with my fingers, making circles as I mumble to myself. "Every time we meet, something bad happens. Usually for me. You must be the harbinger of trouble."

"Hmm?" he stirs, opening his breathtaking red eyes to give me a disapproving look. His brow furrows, sensual lips curving down in mild irritation. "Stop chattering and go to sleep," he rumbles down at me. "This was your idea, after all."

We lapse into silence again, but nothing changes. Now that my head rests against his chest, I can hear his heartbeat. It's slow and steady, but it sounds different than any heartbeat I've heard before. It's almost like there's an echo behind every beat.

His necklace catches my eye, and I can't help but bring my hand up to fiddle with it. I toy with the chain for a moment then slide my finger upwards to the neckline of Sylus's sweatshirt. It's just a normal piece of clothing with a cut that isn't any lower than an average shirt of its type. But, the way it fits on Sylus is borderline criminal. The casual cut leaves his neck and collarbone exposed.

Entranced, I tap the pad of my finger against the base of his throat. His neck is muscular, but also long and graceful. A steady pulse flutters against my fingertip, and I quickly lower my hand, shocked that I allowed myself such liberties. I can't help it, though. This man absolutely confounds me, and despite my best judgement I can't help but want to know everything about him.

I take a deep breath as quietly as I can.

"Sylus, I can't sleep."

"I can," he retorts calmly. "If you'll let me."

In the face of his indifference, my irritation grows. I want to retaliate, but while I'm thinking about a way to do so, one of his eyes opens to look at me.

"Today's patience is wearing thin," he frowns. "Though I don't dislike your explorations, it's better if you just calm down and go to sleep."

A large hand presses my head against his shoulder. My cheek brushes against his sweatshirt, releasing a cloud of scent. Manly. Clean. Sharp.

Calm down? As if!

My heart is thundering in my chest now, and I don't think I can stand being this close to him for another second. I renew my efforts to squirm out of his grasp, my actions greatly annoying my oversized human pillow. In a single powerful motion, Sylus gets to his feet and lifts me into his arms. Not like a princess, but like a sack of potatoes that he practically tosses over his shoulder.

"Put me down," I demand, but he doesn't bother to listen. Two or three steps with his long legs takes us to the bed. He throws me down onto it then leans over me, pressing my Linked wrist into the mattress. His leg settles between mine, and I stop breathing entirely. With my free hand, I push against his shoulder.

His other hand takes control of my wrist, and he guides it down onto the mattress next until I'm completely pinned beneath him. His grip doesn't hurt. He's somehow careful not to cause me pain, yet he is as unyielding as a dam against rushing water.

"You've been letting these hands run wild for a while now," he murmurs, his gaze unreadable. "Is it my turn for exploration?"

"What are you talking about?" I ask, breathless.

"Should I do to you what you've been doing to me for the last hour?" His crooked smirk returns. When he tilts his head, some of his bangs fall forward, giving him a rough and tumble or "just out of bed" kind of appearance. Alarm bells go off in my head. I have to get away.

Now.

I'm a Hunter.

He's a king of the criminal underworld.

There could not be a worse match-up in all of history.

But, the thought of pushing him away now hurts. What I really want isn't escape. I'm no fool, even if I am terrible with love and with relationships. The closest I've come to intimacy in the last few years has been a battery powered quick fix lying in a dusty box under my bed. Even so; even without having a wholesome understanding of what it means to yearn for someone, I can no longer deny that I want this man more than I've ever wanted someone before.

It's unhealthy. It's ill advised.

"Please, Sylus," I breathe, and his eyes slip to my lips. His dark pupils dilate.

"What are you asking me, kitten?" he murmurs, letting go of my wrists to slide his hands up until our fingers wrap around one another. "The terms of a contract should be clearly stipulated."

"Let me go," I beg him.

He doesn't miss a beat, as though he already knew what I was going to say.

"That's not what your eyes are asking me," he counters.

"It's what I'm asking," I insist, my heart squeezing painfully.

Something yanks on the Linkage, then, and before I can react, the same force pulls Sylus towards me. I gasp as he presses into me. In a blink, he brings up an arm to rest on his elbow, keeping most of his weight off to avoid hurting me. He sighs, glancing at the Linkages. Somehow the chain between our wrists has disappeared. The manacles are interlocked, forcing Sylus and I into even greater proximity.

"What have you done now?" he groans. My body grows taught at the vibrations of his voice in my ear. So soft. Languid. Like a lazy afternoon in the sun.

"N-Nothing," I insist. "You threw yourself at me."

"Then how do you explain this?" he gestures with his head to the Linkages.

I honestly have no good answer. Right now, it's all I can do to stare at the corner of the ceiling so I don't meet his gaze. "I don't know what happened, but they're like two snakes trying to devour each other," I mumble.

Desperate, I try to move myself out and away from him. To my horror, the manacle around my wrist tightens even more. I yelp at the painful pressure.

Sylus's low chuckle ruffles the fine hairs at my ear. "You know, sweetie, the more a snake's prey tries to escape, the more tightly it gets strangled."

I shiver, closing my eyes. "That's within your control, then, isn't it? Please, you need to move first. Let me go."

He shifts marginally, his shoulders tensing. "Hm, looks like someone is about to walk in."

I finally look at his face. "What? Walk in where?"

"I'm saying we're about to have a guest."

"Stop trying to scare me. Do you enjoy being an as--"

Past the wall of the bedroom, I hear the sound of a scraping key card over the white noise of the TV. My heart leaps into my throat, body breaking out in cold sweat. Oh no! I'd forgotten that we have assigned room mates on this trip, too. It must be Lois, the young Hunter girl I'd met at headquarters a week ago. If she sees us like this --

I buck beneath Sylus's hold, now putting everything I have into getting him off of me. Fortunately, he decides to cooperate. I manage to push him off me and scramble to the edge of the bed. I look around wildly, my heart pounding. The hotel room has only one exit, which means we need to hide. I spot the closet a short distance away.

"Get in," I hiss violently, yanking on our Linkage and stuffing us both into the tiny space. I slam the door shut and struggle to breathe. At this point, I'm in serious deep water. Even if nobody knows that this is the the Sylus, I will have a witness that saw me bringing a man to my hotel room on a business trip. My reputation will be ruined, and I will likely face temporary suspension. Just imagining the spreading rumors makes me want to vomit.

If someone sees me like this, I won't be able to clear my name even with a redemption arc.

"Ellara!" a cheerful voice resounds from the living area. "Are you here, girl? I can't believe you missed the first part of the presentation!"

I stay silent, chanting prayers to whatever deity would listen in my mind.

"I heard you lost your luggage. Poor thing, but you can borrow some of my clothes if you want." Her footsteps and voice grow louder. "Tara's downstairs waiting, come on!"

My back cramps, and I look down. In my rush, I sat down in an awkward position on the ground. Something hard digs into my back and shoulder blade. Worse yet, Sylus is right on top of me. His size makes this space feel like a broom closet. Our noses are nearly touching, and his breath fans against my face. Some of his hair tickles my forehead.

For a split second, I lose myself in his red eyes.

Not a romantic red like a fading sunset.

Red like fresh blood.

And right now, those eyes are filled to the brim with displeasure.

Memories flash of my first few days with him, back when he tried to use those terrible eyes against me. Of the voice in my head begging me to devour him. The way he used his frightening black Evol to move and manipulate my body to his whims.

I struggle to inhale. Claustrophobia assails me.

Panicking, I push my hand against his chest.

"Sylus, move. I can't breathe."

"Ordering me around, are you?" He glances at my hands; his frown intensifies. "Why are your hands shaking?" He seems genuinely bothered by my fear, but I don't have the capacity to process that right now.

I yank on our Linked wrists for emphasis. "I can't move until you do," I tell him.

Still frowning, he accommodates my request. He shifts his body, wrapping his arms around my waist. I gasp when he lifts me up and sets me on top of him so his legs can stretch out and give me room to move. Somehow, I end up in his lap yet again.

"No, Sylus. This isn't--" his hand settles over my mouth. Huge and hot. He presses a finger to his own lips in turn.

"She's coming. Shh..."

Lois calls my name again, and this time she's in the doorway of the bedroom. My palms grow sweaty. There's no way she won't look inside the closet. My hands tremble where they grip Sylus's shirt. He glances down at them again, then at back at me. His fingers force me to look at him.

Being the sole focus of his gaze is an experience I can't put into words. I feel like I'm standing on the edge of a cliff faced with a huge red tidal wave. Any moment now, the wave will push me back, and who knows whether I'll fall to my death or find salvation?

Leaning forward, he whispers in my ear, "If you're anxious, just close your eyes."

His hand slips from my face, but his thumb grazes my lower lip in passing. His huge palm presses me forward to rest against his chest.

His heartbeat pulses against my ear, body heat enveloping me like a blanket.

Ba-dum lub-dub, ba-dum lub-dub, ba-dum lub-dub...

Steady.

Slow.

Just like it had been when he was sleeping.

My trembling slows, breathing evening out.

His free hand reaches out and presses against the door right as Lois approaches the closet.

"Ellara? Are you here?" I hear the rolling of luggage wheels. "Well, no matter. I'll just leave this here for her for when she gets back." She tugs on the closet door. Again and again. I squeeze my eyes shut; it feels like she'll never stop.

"Why isn't this opening? Is it stuck?"

She pulls harder, but she's no match for Sylus's strength. If she wants to open that door, she'll need to tear it off its hinges.

"Gotta call maintenance, I guess," she sighs. Like salvation, her phone rings. She picks it up, engaging whomever it was in conversation and padding back out of the bedroom.

I breathe out raggedly.

Beneath me, Sylus makes a sound of amusement.

"Your mental fortitude is terrible in situations like this," he observes.

"If we're seen--"

"So your reputation matters more to you than your life?" he asks. There's no judgement in his voice, just curiosity. "You were never this afraid when we were faced with a hail of bullets and assailants."

This is different. Completely different. But now is not the time to try to explain it.

Sylus smiles. "If we're discovered, I suppose we should just confess."

"To what, exactly?" I hiss defiantly.

His fingertips snake down the nape of my neck to the base of my spine. My eyes go wide when those same fingers sneak beneath the edge of my shirt and slip inside. In a blink, he's caressing my bare skin. I suck in a breath as my whole body breaks out in goosebumps.

"What are you...doing?"

Without answering, he keeps going. His fingers move up. Higher and higher, until his knuckles graze the underside of my bra. Splayed open, his fingers span almost my entire back.

Our eyes lock, devouring each other much like the Linkages around our wrists.

A single moment hangs between us in time.

And then his fingers slip beneath the barrier between us.

My breath hitches in my throat.

My skin pulses with anticipation.

My lips part, my mouth opening on a protest. His crimson eyes sear into me, daring me to speak, daring me to try to stop him. They aren't asking for permission; there's really no need. He already knows what my body wants, and he's prepared to ignore my lips trying to stop him.

Outside, Lois' voice fades away. Keys jingle. The front door to the hotel room slams shut. Silence fills the air, broken only by the humming of the furnace and my labored breaths.

I can't tear my eyes away from Sylus's lips. They're so close now. It would only take a single motion on my part, a single adjustment to my posture to taste them.

With a herculean effort, I keep myself still.

When our eyes meet next, his are hooded and burning. A volcano simmers beneath - boiling lava waiting to erupt.

"So what's it to be, kitten?" he teases. His fingers move a little higher, pressing up against my breast. "Should we continue?"

"Nn..." I could hardly recognize my own voice as a needy mewl rips itself from me. I slip forward, just that much closer. My resolve is breaking, bit by bit. Or maybe mile by mile. My body grows restless, sore, impoverished.

 "Your hands are cold as ice, but you feel quite warm here now." He rocks his hips against me, and I close my eyes against a pang of dizziness. Warm fluid floods my panties, my body betraying all my morals.

I whimper when the tips of his fingers nudge against my nipple. A need so deep, raw, and painful slams into my groin that I can't help but throw my head back. His huge hand supports me as I sigh in pleasure, keeping me from falling.

A breath against my chest and then cold air as my shirt is lifted up. Lost in wave upon wave of desire, I gasp when his lips press right between my breasts. He plants a hungry kiss there. Then another, his silvery hair tickling my skin. Hungry, but gentle. So very gentle.

He breathes me in then exhales, and the rolling of his hot wet breath has me gripping him tighter.

Then he stops. Leans back.

In a haze, I glance down to find him smirking, his sharp eyes narrowed and challenging. He tilts up his chin in that arrogant way of his, daring me to protest.

We have to stop. This is madness.

Really, Ellara? Making out with the Sylus in the middle of Hunter symposium in a damn closet?

I need to push him away. Push him away. Push him away.

I wince as the Linkage tightens painfully on my wrist. Bruising. Aching. Punishing me for going against the wishes of my heart.

"Sylus, we can't do this," I whisper. "I'm a Hunter, and you're..."

"I'm what?"

"You're the leader of Onychinus..."

"Is that all I am?" he asks, placing another kiss on my shoulder. "Does that title define me?" Another feathery kiss. "Are you just a Hunter? Or are you not Ellara as well?"

"Of c-course I am," I gasp. "B-But...we...this is..."

"Alright, then," he says, his expression still amused. He pulls back, and it feel like someone reached in and ripped out a part of me.

"If that's what you want."

It isn't, and he knows it well.

Anger floods me. How dare he play with me like this? How dare he act like he could stop now when we've already clearly crossed a line? When I need him this much? Furious, I grab the collar of his shirt. Why am I always the one being toyed with? Am I just another amusement to stave off boredom?

I want to shout at him.

I want to wipe the smirk off his beautiful face.

But, more than that, I deeply, desperately need to kiss him.

And so, that's exactly what I do.

I pull him towards me, molding my mouth to his.

He's shocked. His whole body tenses. But, I'm over it. Over all of this. No more stops. No more hesitation. I'm pretty sure I will spontaneously combust if I don't get a taste of him immediately. With a lustful moan, I run my tongue against his lips. He immediately grants me entry, and my mind goes blank as we vie for dominance.

His mouth is smooth and molten hot.

His saliva is slick and sweet.

He tastes like peppermint and heaven.

He tastes like home.

I'd spent so many cold and hollow nights imagining what a perfect kiss might be. Secretly, I thought nothing in reality could measure up.

What an idiot I was...

Without breaking away from me, his fingers move again. I can't hold back a ragged moan as he plays with my nipple and rocks me against him. Gentle, yet insistent. Rhythmic. Constant. His touch builds like a crescendo; my blood surges and sings, breasts seeming to swell as bliss shoots from my chest to my fingers and toes.

I try to move back, nearly overstimulated, but he holds me still. His mouth absorbs my wanton moans as he unhooks the back of my bra with his free hand. At last, we come up for air. I curve into him like an eager she-cat when he palms both of my breasts and presses his mouth to them. My hands bury into his hair, fingernails digging into his scalp.

Worried that I'm hurting him, I hesitate. He nips at my neck, making me squeal.

"I'm not afraid of your claws," he purrs against me. "Do what you want. I won't break."

A pressure grows and hardens against my core, assuring me that despite Sylus' outward composure, he's just as affected as I am. I cry out when he pinches me, nearly cumming at the sound of his deep voice humming a note of approval. He licks his way up my neck.

"All this just from my tongue and lips on you? Looks like my little kitten is pent up."

I let him have that victory. He's not wrong, after all.

I'm climbing to the pinnacle so fast that I'm dizzy, but I've plateaued. My hips begin moving on their own, my body seeking him, searching for pressure - any pressure - to ease the agony between my legs. He knows what I need, but he denies me, choosing to focus on just touches, kisses, caresses. His hands and mouth drive me to delirium until all I can do is hang onto his hair and his shoulders and beg.

"Sylus..." I rasp.

He smiles against my breasts.

"Sylus- ah!"

I almost want to cry when one of his hands glides down my thigh and stops just short of touching my center.

"...need you...need this..." I bump against his growing erection. 

"Are you sure?" he breathes, nipping at my ear. "You want me to do you right here?" 

"Nnn...yes...yes..."

I shudder when his finger passes over my apex, his touch dulled by layers of clothes. I try to lift myself up, but I'm clumsy, uncoordinated, weak with want. It's cramped in here, and there's no room for either of us to move much. Frantic, I buck my hips and whine. When I reach for the door, Sylus grips my hand and brings it to his lips.

"Patience, sweetie," he coos, kissing my knuckles. "I'll take care of you."

He settles his hands on my hips and lifts me up. The buckle of his pants clinks as he undoes it. Next, he reaches up and tears a hole in my leggings. I'm too far gone for any kind of outrage at my lost garment, especially when his pulsating cock brushes up against my bare skin. I'm so drenched that I slip and slide against him.

His hiss of pleasure thrills me.

I can feel every inch of him as he moves. He's huge, and for a moment I feel a flash of trepidation. Then it passes, and all I can think about is how badly I need him to ruin me right now.

"Sylus..."

His hands squeeze my ass, spreading me wide. "I know, kitten. Breathe."

With that, he slips into me. He's gentle. Slow. Careful. But, I'm still overwhelmed. My thoughts white out. All worries, hesitations, moral tugs of war. Everything dissipates into the breathtaking sensation of him filling me. There's some pain, but its a passing thing. Not worthy of note, not when he pulls me down into a kiss and fills me with his tongue as well. My nails tattoo my ecstasy into his shoulders, my insides squeezing him so tight as I climax that he has to break our kiss so he doesn't bite down on my tongue.

I wiggle on him, wanting him to move, needing to know what it feels like for him to scramble me up inside.

"Easy," he warns. "Are you alright?"

"No," I confess, drinking in the blood of his crimson gaze like a ravenous beast. But I can't find the right words to describe my need. "More," I plead. "Just...more..."

"Reckless as ever," he chuckles, but he's out of breath too.

I watch the Adam's apple move on his gorgeous neck as he swallows. I move my hips again, urging him to take me, break me, whatever he wants. His hands tighten their grip on my hips. I dearly hope he leaves bruises. I don't want to forget this moment for days. Weeks. Not ever. It's so perfect. He's so perfect.

With a snap, the Linkage around our wrists shatters.

Sylus doesn't give it a second glance. The moment we're free, he moves my body around.

"Relax," he breathes into my ear and kisses it. "Turn this way." Without pulling out of me, he shifts us around so my back faces him. I rest my hands against the opposite wall, whimpering when he spreads my legs open and positions me on my knees. He hulks over me, one big hand holding my waist while the other rests beside mine on the wall.

He starts to move, and I can no longer stop myself from making obscene sounds of bliss. Every thrust threatens to split me in half, the friction making me dig my nails into the wall. His cock hits me so deep inside that I swear I'll shatter into a million pieces. But, the pain is indescribably wonderful, and as my body adjusts to take in his size and girth, only pleasure remains.

"Ah...mmn...ah...Sylus...Sylus!"

"That's it," he huffs right into my ear, licking every nook and crevice. "Scream for me." His fingers slip from my waist to torment my clit. I shatter on the rocks, losing track of what's happening. He pounds into me until I feel him start to swell even more.

"Mmn...ah...yes!...please...please...inside me...give me all of you..."

His rumbling chuckle throws me over another edge as he explodes into me. He's breathing hard, his heart pounding against my back. His hips keep moving as white hot cum leaks down my thighs. He nuzzles into the crook between my neck and shoulder. Kissing my skin. Grazing his teeth on it.

We float in a haze, surrounded by our breaths and heartbeats. He doesn't pull out of me for some time, and I try to process what just happened. I'm joined with him in the most intimate way, and I've never felt anything more natural.

His sensual lips rain kisses on my back, his hand stroking my belly, my chest, my arm - helping me come down from the most incredible high of my life. 

"Sylus..." I whisper, my arms shaking. "I can't move."

"I have you," he soothes, pressing a kiss to my temple. I gasp when he pulls back. The sound of his belt clicking as he tucks himself back into his jeans.

"I'm going to move us now. Trust me, alright?"

I nod weakly.

The world tilts and spins. Vibrations of Evol pulsate through me. I remember this feeling, though the last time it flowed through my body it was like an aggressive snake. This time, it's warm and reassuring. Sylus's arms wrap around me. I smell that delicious aftershave again. Or maybe it's something else. Maybe this is just his smell.

Just as his kiss tastes of home, his scent smells of safety and security.

Wrapped up in his embrace, nothing can hurt me.

The closet disappears, and before I can make a single sound, Sylus is standing in the middle of the bedroom with me in his arms. He pulls the sheets and blanket off the bed and wraps them around me.

"Two more jumps," he smiles, and my heart flutters at the softness of his gaze. No longer like blood. More like a deep ruby wine. "I'm on the top floor."

Again, my surroundings spin and whirl like a hurricane. Colors blur together. It's disorienting, but I'm not afraid, trusting that the one holding me won't let me fall. When it all settles, we are no longer in my hotel room. Instead, we're standing in some kind of penthouse suite. I blink as I look around.

"Is this your room?"

"Did you want to stay downstairs?" He raises a brow at me.

I shake my head. "No. I guess I'm just wondering why we didn't come here sooner."

"And miss out on nearly getting caught?" he teases.

Again, I give him this one. Despite how terrifying it was when Lois nearly found us, the aftermath was...well...

I can't really be mad at him, and I'm too tired to try.

"Your hands are still like ice," he frowns. "Let's get warmed up." He pads to the bathroom as I poke his chest.

"You're not cold at all, though."

The master bath is a sight to behold. White marble with contrasting black and gold swirls. Frosted glass etched with patterns of rare flowers accents the rich colorations around it. The shower alone is larger than the walk-in closet in my apartment. Taken aback, I'm still marveling at the decor as Sylus sets me down on a nearby loveseat.

He starts when I wince and make a sound of pain. I shift in my seat, trying to find a position that doesn't hurt. Immediately, he's kneeling in front of me, his hand cupping my face. Those deep ruby eyes take me in, searching for the source of my discomfort. My heart races to be the focus of those slanted sharp eyes.

"Was I too rough?" he asks.

My hand covers his. "I'm alright. It's just...been a while." I smile at him and stroke his hair. As he closes his eyes in pleasure at my touch, I'm completely at my wit's end. There's no logic or reason that can stop the tenderness running through me now. There's no reason I can think of to push this man away any longer.

This man.

Not the Sylus of Onychinus.

Not the king of N109.

Just a man.

An incredible, wonderful, and mysterious man.

"A hot bath will help me feel better," I tell him.

He glances at the tub, stopping my heart with his special half smile. "I think we'll both fit in this one."

I pull him down for a long slow and thorough kiss. "Then, what are we waiting for?"

.

[hwapetals]

distractions

pairing - boyfriend!seonghwa x gn!reader genre - fluff summary - your boyfriend is tutoring you but you can't seem to concentrate on your work. author's note - i forgot everything about biology so i had to refer back to my notes <3 seonghwa is the same age as the mc, they do the same major but he's a year ahead due to mc's gap year. word count - 854 words

after taking a gap year off from university to enjoy life for once, you definitely forgot about everything you had learnt prior in your major, and seonghwa being the best boyfriend ever, graciously agreed to tutor and catch you up so that you wouldn't struggle when you got back to class.

as much as you wanted to pay attention to what actually mattered, it was not an easy task. you had your elbow on the glass coffee table, cheek cradled in your hand.

god, your boyfriend just looked so irresistible. seonghwa's long hair was parted, one side tucked behind his ear as he bit the back of a pen, eyes carefully scrutinizing your notes. he had a pair of circle glasses on, perched on the bridge of his nose.

instead of staring at your notes with him, you ended up just staring at him intently, your mind racing with thoughts about how lucky you were to have him. before long, you had zoned out as he read out your notes after fixing any minor errors.

"so, slow acting neurotransmitters last longer because....?" seonghwa spoke up, looking up at you before his eyebrows furrowed together, realizing that you definitely were not paying attention to his words. he leaned in close, blowing at your face to get your attention. "were you listening?"

seonghwa's attempt to divert your attention back to you worked, from how you shook your head an obvious sign. your body tensed up for a moment, your hands also starting to sweat from embarrassment.

"yeah, totally," you lied, with an awkward smile, wiping your hands off onto your clothing. you reached your hand out to place it onto his thigh before you awkwardly laughed. "okay, maybe not. explain it to me again?"

seonghwa didn't move but he cracked a smile, after sighing. he reached out to pinch your cheek teasingly as you scooted closer to him, the scraping of the chair's legs against the ground a little loud. "fine, i'll explain it again. don't tell me that you zoned out the entire time i was speaking to you."

he tried to feign annoyance, narrowing his eyes accusingly as he puffed his cheeks. you did feel a little bad... wasting his time like that but his damn reactions were so cute to you.

"i promise i didn't! only half of the time," you admitted guiltily, scratching your head. "but it's your fault! for looking like, this!"

you gestured to his entire physical being in a dramatic way. the gears cranked in his head for a moment to process what you meant, before he simply just laughed. who knew you were so easy to rile up?

"you got distracted because i look handsome?" seonghwa asked, thinking about ways to try to engage you more into the content, using himself. a little cunning, but number one, he loved praise and number two, he did genuinely care about your education and if this could help you concentrate, he was willing to use himself as a 'sacrifice'.

you nodded eagerly, feeling a bit of shame from how easily you admitted it. you squeezed his thigh gently, moving to grab his hand with a frown. "can you blame me? your face is a lot more interesting than psychoactive drugs."

"if you put it that way, not really," seonghwa joked, a small cocky smirk on his lips. "what about this? if you pay attention to the work, i'll, uh, stay over tonight and treat you. sounds good?"

"deal!" your response was almost instantaneous. you were one simple person, spending time with someone you loved as well as getting food sounded like the best thing ever. "i'll hold you to your word."

"wooow, you think i would trick you? never," seonghwa gasped in a theatrical way, pulling you in closer by the shoulder before kissing your temple.

"i didn't say that!" you retorted, melting into his touch as you snuggled up to him. your eyes turned to look up at him, turning away quickly out of shyness when you see how intently he was staring at you.

"i know! but seriously, we've got to start getting a bit more serious about this. i'll have to, i don't know, start writing up quizzes for you," seonghwa said sternly, patting your arm tenderly.

"well.. if you're gonna make me do tests, will i get a special reward in return for passing? like a steak dinner?" you questioned, mostly as sarcasm but you weren't really expecting him to say yes.

"why not? you deserve it for working hard, but only if you score over eighty percent. what? need to make sure you've got motivation," seonghwa suggested, but it was more like a thought-out plan of what he wanted to do.

you just sighed, almost like a disappointed reaction but you understood why and you appreciated it. and if it meant you got to spend a lot more time with seonghwa, you were sold.

"fine, let's start now! i’m gonna make sure to order all the expensive menu items once you treat me.”

“hey, you know that i’m also a not-very-rich college student too!!”

[rashomonss]

A HUMANS WRATH

Part XI

previous part

taglist: @miridiums-writing, @zerchila, @aeongiies, @xmoogx, @coffeeandtealol, @food-lover9000, @l0diluvs, @vichsy, @valeriele3, @entolomaeden, @acaribeau, @sillybeanzo, @jessiegerl, @capricorn-anon, @crescentworld, @g-l-1-t-c-h-3-r, @chumbinhoeba, @chaos-n-kindness, @strawberryfire17, @zenxvii, @misscaller06, @luminarysol @simpinginthecorner, @your-next-daydream, @bontensbabygirl, @crxwned-mxnarch

a/n: so this is totally unrelated to the story and obey me entirely but if any of you are bsd enjoyers did y’all read chapter 107?? y’all almost didn’t get a new chapter of this story bc of that damn chapter. it made me want to jump off the nearest 50ft building. I wanted to die after reading that fr, so bc asagri made me cry we’re getting double angst for this chapter. anyway I’m done with my rant now enjoy!

oh and p.s. I’m putting which perspective you’re reading as since some found it confusing last chapter. the original is og MC, and the wrathful human is wrath! MC just in case it’s confusing!

warnings: slightly longer chapter, lesson 16 spoilers, descriptions of dying, choking, mentions of blood, abuse of pacts (slightly)

a success for one side

The perspective of the original

“Lucifer was there really no other way we could have done that?” Levi asked, struggling to get up off the ground. His whole body ached and blood dripped from his mouth pooling onto the planetarium ground in heavy amounts.

“Levi close yer mouth, you're gonna lose more blood if ya keep it open” Mammon said, making his way over to his younger brother.

“Yeah there could have been a different way of doing this, we’re not all masochists, like you Lucifer” Satan spat. Blood then fell from his nose onto his shirt and he cursed in response.

“In my defense I never agreed to this” Asmo yelled. “My whole body is covered in bruises and blood Lucifer! I have a photoshoot on Monday!”

“Belphie’s out cold” Beel said, moving closer to his twin ignoring the blood falling from his face.

“That’s no surprise, Mc really did a number on him. I wouldn't be surprised if he was out for a few hours because of it.” Satan sighed.

“I’ll take him to your room, Beel.” Lucifer said, walking over to pick up the youngest.

“Lucifer ya look like you're gonna fall over” Mammon said watching the oldest slowly walk over to their younger brother.

“I’m fine,” He stated. “For now we should focus on cleaning ourselves up and heading after Mc”

“I doubt Mc wants to see us right now…” Levi sighed.

“Levi, close your mouth” Mammon yelled as blood began to fall on him.

“Ahh!” Levi screamed.

Mammon sighed and helped Levi and the rest of his brothers get up after Lucifer left with Belphie. If he’s being honest he doesn’t remember much of what happened due to blacking out halfway through your wrath episode. After you were done he and his brothers each woke up laying on the floor with pools of blood surrounding them.

He honestly didn’t like Lucifer’s plan of taunting you into a pact, but sacrifices had to be made if they wanted you to stay here.

You needed to stay here.

More often then he and his brothers would like to admit they really did miss their Mc. However they did love and enjoy your company just as much. Their only wish was that their Mc was just like you.

Interacting and having fun with you was always bittersweet in a sense since it reminded them of a time before the incident, a happier time before everything went downhill.

If only you could have forgiven them.

It didn’t matter how much they did miss their own Mc, because they were going to keep you here in their place. You reminded them of the personality they were used to, it was as if this other version of you currently with them had completely forgotten about the incident and moved on with their life.

Sure you had a breakdown or two about your feelings but they sincerely apologized about what happened and you forgave them, causing them to finally be able to move on as well.

They all believed everything was going great, after all you never complained or spoke about anything being wrong with them so they were blind to the truth. You went along with everything and anything they did which made them desire your attention and affection more. These demons were so touch starved for you to the point of it becoming a problem.

However they weren’t going to lie, seeing you that upset really did hurt them. Most of them disagreed with Lucifer’s first plan to make a pact with you, and the second plan made the brothers split in half. The third and last plan was the one they currently just carried out.

It was because Lucifer had the bright idea to upset you so much that you’d finally be willing to make a pact with him for your enjoyment. Belphie also making a pact with you was a bonus, after all the youngest finally got what he wanted, even if it did cost him.

As Mammon finally finished cleaning up Levi and a few more of his brothers he couldn’t help but wonder where you were heading off too. You mentioned you had something to do after you dealt with them, he just couldn’t remember what it was…

After leaving the House of Lamentation you stormed in the direction of the Demon Lord's Castle, with the intent of speaking to the prince and his butler. Nothing but pure rage filled your thoughts as you clenched your bloody fists. You were going to demand them to send you back to your timeline no matter what.

As you reached the door to the castle you prepared to knock, however before you even got the chance the door opened revealing a smiling Barbatos on the other side.

“Good evening Mc, what brings you here? If I’m not mistaken I don’t remember arranging for you to come over.”

“I need to speak with Diavolo.” You simply stated, right now you were not in the mood to make small talk with the butler.

“Ah well we should get you cleaned up first and foremost you appear to be bleeding” Barbatos said reaching for your hand.

Reluctantly you let him take it and examine the condition of your bloodied hands and arms. “Don’t worry about it, it's not my blood anyway.” You said pulling away.

Barbatos’ eyes widened just the slightest as he gave you a surprised look before trying to speak again, only to get cut off by the prince himself.

“Mc are you okay? You’re not hurt, are you?” Diavolo asked, slightly frantically as he made his way over to you pushing his butler aside in the process.

“Like I said previously I’m fine. I’m not the one you should be asking that question too anyway”

Diavolo looked confused then spoke. “What do you mean? Did you happen to get into a fight with some demons? Where are the brothers..?”

“At the House of Lamentation. Listen I didn’t come here to talk about them I came here to ask for help Dia”

“Of course Mc, but first I need to ask, what’s wrong? Are you in any danger of some sorts, if you are I assure you Barbatos and I can take care of it”

You sighed before speaking. How were you to go about telling the demon prince himself that you were from a different timeline? Your Barbatos told you not to mention that detail at all costs because it could somehow affect the future, however you didn’t know how much longer you could stay in a place like this. This timeline was beginning to bring out parts of yourself you tried so hard to keep hidden, who knows what else it could cause you to do if you stayed here any longer…

“I am not your Mc.” You stated.

Diavolo and Barbatos shared a confused glance at each other before you continued.

“I’m from a different timeline where different events have occurred, but somehow I got switched with your Mc from this timeline. I need your help to get back before I cause anymore damage here then I already have.”

It was silent for a few seconds, and the two who were standing in front of you stared at you with blank faces. Seconds soon turned into minutes and you began to get worried since neither of them showed any signs of responding.

Anxious now you prepared to defend your words until Diavolo smiled and walked towards you, with Barbatos soon following behind.

“Oh Mc, don’t worry I believe you, after all I could tell right away that you weren’t from here!” Diavolo laughed.

“Is that so…?” You said awkwardly.

“Of course! You’re much nicer and more understanding than our Mc. Your personality sticks out like a sore thumb in comparison. And it’s a bit suspicious when I get glares and eye rolls one day and a hug and nickname the next. No human I’ve met changes personalities that fast.”

“Ah I see…so then I take it you’ll help me get back?”

“Oh I think you misunderstand, I never said that.” Diavolo smiled.

“What?” You replied, taking a small step back.

“See, with you here the exchange program is producing wonderful results! Better than I expected actually. Well that and everyone here seems to enjoy your presence, including me. So you wouldn’t want to leave us so soon now, would you?” Diavolo said, invading your personal space. The demon prince was speaking with such a friendly tone it was as if you were having tea with him and joking around.

“I have to go home, I need to go home. Please believe me you all are wonderful but this isn’t where I belong. I feel suffocated here, and to be frank I don’t feel the same way I feel about my demons when I’m with you all.”

Diavolo frowned and sighed. “It’s okay, you’ll feel the same in due time, after all we’re all very alike right?”

Your eyebrows furrowed and you glared back at him. “No I won’t. I refuse to stay here because you don’t have a good relationship with your Mc. You need to figure out what the fuck you did wrong and fix it.”

“Don’t drag me here as a replacement to fix all your problems. Because if you do that then you are just like them. You have no concern for our feelings whatsoever.” You spat.

Barbatos then returned your glare and made his way towards you. “I understand you’re upset but I would appreciate it if you didn’t speak to the young master in such a manner. Don’t forget your place Mc.”

“That’s enough Barbatos.” Diavolo said, putting his hand up.

“If Mc won’t comply then we’ll just take them by force.”

“No you won-“

“Please don’t make this any more difficult than it has to be Mc.” Diavolo said, and that was the last thing you heard before blacking out.

_____

The perspective of a wrathful human

You were on top of Belphegor on the floor as he weakly tried to pry your hands from his throat. The demon in front of you was hanging onto what little conscience he had left as he watched your face morph into a smile.

“How does it feel to have your throat crushed by someone you so dearly placed your trust in?”

Belphegor let out a choked noise in response.

“Does it hurt? Finding it hard to breathe? I’m sure it must be very unpleasant” you said, then proceeded to lean down applying more pressure onto his throat.

Belphegor began to bleed from his mouth as you laughed. You kept spitting out nonsense about killing him as he tried to get you off, so in the process you proceeded to get his blood all over your arms.

This scene in general didn’t look too pleasant from afar, so you can believe the brothers utter shock when they busted through the planetarium doors frantic, at the sound of choking and laughing.

At first they feared the worst and thought it to be you choking and being killed again, however nothing could have prepared them upon seeing you bloodied and on top of the youngest brother.

Belphie looked utterly horrible. His complexion was paler than usual and the corners of his mouth began to turn purple and blue accompanied by red blood falling from the side.

When he heard his brothers enter the room his head instantly turned to face them and he unconsciously reached out for them.

After a second of silence due to trying to process the situation Lucifer and Beel were soon darting towards your direction faster than you had ever seen them. In seconds flat they were ripping you off of the youngest who was still out if it.

“Mc what in the Devildom is wrong with you?” Lucifer yelled, grabbing tightly onto one of your arms. He tried his best not to hurt you, but seeing his brother being strangled by you really set him off.

“Mc stop it now” Beel said, slightly raising his voice as he grabbed your other arm. He didn’t want to see you two fight, it broke his heart. The two people he cared about the most were going at it again, he couldn’t lose Belphie, but he didn’t want to let his temper get the best of him and end up hurting you too.

“Get off of me you damn demons” you screamed as they held you up.

“Mc calm down.” Lucifer said, grabbing your arm tighter than before.

“Shut up! I’m going to kill him, he deserves it”

“Mc stop!” Asmo yelled from afar.

“No, you don’t know what it's like, any of you!”

“What in the Devildom are you going on about Mc?” Lucifer said, at this point he was soon reaching a breaking point with you and this tantrum.

“You don’t know what it feels like to be killed do you?”

“To have your throat crushed. Or to feel as if your lungs are on fire from the lack of oxygen in your system. After that is the horrible headache and throbbing pain that consumes your head and your thinking. In a state of panic like that you then feel your limbs become limp as you try and free yourself. However due to the lack of strength you can’t do anything except deal with what fate has in store for you.”

“Dying is absolutely terrifying”

“However what makes everything even worse is the fact that afterwards I have to live in the same house with the same demon who put me through all of that and pretend everything is just fine. When in fact everything is just worse”

Lucifer and Beel’s grip on you had losend the slightest as they watched you squirm. Upon hearing your words they swallowed hard, trying to come up with some type of response, but before any of them could continue you began to speak again.

“If I kill him it will all be over.”

“What will killing Belphie accomplish, Mc.” Beel asked, then tightened his grip on your arm.

“Everything! All the nightmares will finally go away, all the panic attacks and breakdowns will stop. And maybe, just maybe I can have a normal conversation with other demons without my body being terrified for my life. Maybe I can be touched by a demon and not have my skin feel as if it will burn itself. Everything will be better once he’s gone” you screamed, trying your best to get free from the two brothers' hold.

The brothers stared at you in silence as they took in the severity of your words. Had you really suffered this much without them knowing? Had their Mc gone through this as well…? How long before their Mc got over it?

Did they ever get over it? How did their Mc feel about the whole situation, they never got to talk about it after all.

How many nights did they wake up in a cold sweat with tears streaming down their face, or how many nights did they stay up because they couldn’t sleep due to the nightmares?

You went through all this trauma by yourself without any of them being there to comfort you, no wonder you were upset.

However while the brothers were all thinking deeply about your words you were on an adrenaline high with no signs of coming down soon.

“Let go of me and stay out of the way. All six if you” you shouted.

The tone was that of a command, and no later than a second you were free and heading back to the youngest as fast as you could.

Lucifer cursed himself for letting his guard down, their whole purpose was to make sure you didn’t use the pacts but that plan failed.

As you jumped back onto Belphegor you punched him in the face causing blood to spill out the other side of his mouth.

“Mc stop please, don’t hurt Belphie” Beel yelled, trying his best to break free from the pact.

It was no use because his words fell on deaf ears. You were too busy beating the shit out of the demon you were on top of.

Belphie accepted what you were doing with an occasional grunt here and there as you continued to punch his face. He did feel bad, he felt horrible honestly, but if this made you feel better then he was willing to let you get all your anger out. After all he deserved it, is what he believed.

As the youngest brothers face continued to get bloodied, some of his brothers looked away while others tried their best to speak to you, Beel was the only one who was struggling to break free so that he could save Belphegor.

“Mc…” you faintly heard from the demon in front of you.

“What do you want? Don’t tell me you’re giving up already, I’m not done with you yet.”

“Please hear me out really quick, i promise it’ll be fast” he spoke dryly.

You gave him another punch before stopping for a brief moment. “Well get on with it”

Belphegor cleared his throat and tried to sit up the best he could to look you in the eyes. Sighing he then spoke.

“I understand it’s very selfish of me to tell you something like this, but I really want you to hear me out.”

You raised your eyebrows and then he continued.

“Mc I’m so sorry. Truly I really am, I was wrong about humans, I was wrong about everything. After Lilith’s death I was filled with so much anger towards humans. However I realize now that I shouldn’t have taken it out on you because you were only trying to help.”

“I never apologized to you after because I was too scared of what you would say. I was too scared you’d never forgive me so I swept it under the rug and tried to pretend it never happened. I’m just a damn coward. Only now did I realize my brothers and I didn’t ask how you felt. We just went on with life leaving you to deal with all the trauma.”

“I apologize because you should have never had to go through an event as traumatic as dying. I didn’t realize all those things you dealt with were because of me so I want you to know I’ll try my best to fix them now, if you’ll let me. If not then I accept whatever punishment you have in mind. “

“I just want you to know from the bottom of my heart I really am truly sorry. I love you so much Mc and if you forgive me then great, however I don’t expect you to. It’s selfish of me to ask you to make that decision, so I promise to deal with whatever you want to do, if it’ll make you happy”

You felt tears fall from your eyes onto the floor making it a darker color than it previously was. However you couldn’t figure out why you were crying. How long has it been since you actually cried like this?

You hit Belphie again as tears continued to fall, but this time your hits were much lighter and softer so they didn’t actually hurt the seventh born.

“Mc, I-“

“Shut up!”

You screamed. You didn’t want to hear him right now, you didn’t want to face the fact that an apology such as that one actually was sincere and filled with emotion, unlike the halfhearted apologies your demons gave you.

You now had to come to terms with the fact that you had finally gotten an apology from the heart like you had wanted. To you it didn't matter if they were your demons or not, all that matters was that Belphegor had finally apologized.

Belphie opened his arms and smiled, waiting patiently for a hug. Your eyes went wide as you stared at him for a moment, and after what felt like forever you slowly inched closer to him,

Hesitantly you leaned forward slowly into the hug, and once you hit his chest he engulfed you with his arms. You freaked out for a second but he reassured you that he was happy you chose to hug him.

“Mc thank you for trusting me like this.” Belphie said.

You held your head low and sighed before speaking.

“Just because I let you touch me doesn’t mean everything is magically better, you demons are so naive.”

Next part

a/n: so how are we finding about this chapter? there are a few things I do want to ask if you did notice, and a couple questions I have for y’all, you can think about these or just answer in the comments! i just want to understand what y’all think is all!

- first off, what do you think og MC did to the brothers to leave them that beat up?

- can you find the lesson 16 dialogue in the second part of this chapter?

- did you notice how wrath! MC was just happy with heartfelt apology? It didn’t matter if it was from their demons or the ones in the og timeline, unlike the og MC who didn’t quite feel filled with the other brothers apology.

- and lastly would you personally, forgive Belphie after an apology like that?

thanks for reading! <3

[blueraineshadows]

Love Me, Love Me Not - Part One

This is for @applinsandoranges and her brilliant request.

Sebastian Sallow x F!MC 🌶🔥 NSFW

Blurb: She loves him, he loves her, but they are both too damn scared and stubborn to admit it. She finds solace in the arms of other boys, he just wants her to be happy - can these two idiots actually fess up and admit the truth?

Summer after 5th Year

Clouds of the purest white, fluffy and inviting, as though you could jump in and lose yourself in the softness, sailed lazily across a perfect summer sky. It was beautiful, pure, the air warm and balmy, but summer was fading out fast.

MC lay on her back, her eyes watching those peaceful clouds float by, her chest rising and falling with slow, steady breaths. She allowed a sense of peace to wash over her and she closed her eyes.

A voice, deep and raw, the tone familiar and holding all that held her heart hostage. "I will never be able to repay you, you know that, right? Everything you've done for me. My debt to you is limitless."

Her eyes opened. Those clouds may look inviting, but don't be fooled. Once you dive in, there is nothing to hold you in their fluffy depths, and you will soon be plummeting for the ground, reality rushing up to swallow you whole.

The magnitude of the last school year loomed over her. Her first year at Hogwarts had been a baptism of fire and death. And yet, here she was, laying on the grass, spending lazy summer days looking up at the sky, alive. Beside her, the boy who had stolen her heart and consumed it with fire and magic.

Sebastian Sallow. A boy with trauma in his past, a boy just as lost in the dark as she was, a kindred spirit that had somehow found her and woven his tragedy deeply with hers.

Her heart was his, and yet he did not know it. The words were there, at the back of her throat, tethered there by all the horrors they had been through.

So much darkness, so much death, so much to process under this peaceful summer sky. Too much death.

The words from her heart had to be swallowed down, harboured safely in the secret caverns of her chest. They both needed time. Time to grow up, time to heal, time to sort through the mess that had been scattered after that day in the catacombs, the horrors underneath Hogwarts. The grief, the loss, the pain, and the sacrifice.

Her hand fumbled out across the grass, fingers seeking out Sebastian's, taking them and holding them securely. She would always try to catch him when he stumbled.

"There is no debt to pay," she said, softly. "I would do it again, gladly. As far as anyone else is concerned, we were never in those catacombs. I will take our secret to my grave, and even then I will hold it tight in my death grip."

She stared at the sky, not daring to look at him, because her eyes would betray the love in her heart. His head turned towards her, she could feel the burn of his gaze. Her lips ached to kiss him, to taste him, to know him even deeper than she already did.

But it wasn't the right time. And, who knew? He may not feel the same. He was grateful, of course, but that didn't mean love. He was her friend, first and foremost, and to lose that was out of the question. She'd never had a best friend before him, never had the chance to. He was a friend so precious that she had lied to save him from a fate worse than death.

Why then would she risk losing him over something so small as a kiss? No. For now, she was content to lay under a peaceful sky and hold his hand. Alive.

....*....

One Year Later

This would be MC's third year at Hogwarts but the sight of the castle on the first day still made her stop for a moment, a small pause amid the chaos of students arriving in their droves, just a moment to appreciate the beauty of the place she thought of as home.

A bump from behind made her stagger a little and she turned to see a group of younger students, their eyes widening in recognition as they looked up at her, mumbling their apologies. She smiled and waved them off. No harm done. They continued to stare at her though, whispering behind their hands as they headed off towards the school. "That's her, that's the Hero of Hogwarts."

Sighing, still shying away from the hero worship that didn't sit right with her, she followed the students down the path. How was she a hero? She had blood on her hands, and plenty of it. She held secrets that would scare you more than a creepy bedtime story ever could.

Trauma, she had discovered, wasn't something you could just sweep under a carpet. No. It lingered in the shadows and leapt on you when you least expected it, lurked on the edge of your dreams, circling, waiting, always waiting.

Carrying such weight was hard. And sometimes you needed a release. MC was sure her methods were a little scandalous, definitely frowned upon in the Muggle world, but luckily, she didn't belong there anymore.

The Wizarding World was more accepting, more open, but it still had a sense of morality of course. She still had to be discreet. And she was. Mostly.

She had been rather good over the summer. Working in a cafe by the sea, lodging in a room above it, taking the time out to try and find herself. Becoming an adult came with its own problems, and she had discovered that drinking in bars and meeting charming young men had eased some of the insecurity that plagued her. It made her feel good, even if only for a little while. She absorbed their compliments, allowed them to spoil her, allowed them to hold her hand and charm her with soft words. A stolen kiss in the dark to chase the shadows away.

But never to come anywhere close to her heart. No. Her heart was still in the hands of Sebastian Sallow, and yes, he still had no idea he owned it.

....*....

Walking into the Slytherin common room was like stepping into home, and MC felt a smile tug at her lips, savouring the feel of the room around her. The energy of a new term was thick in the air, excited chatter and the meeting up of friends after two months apart made for a noisy atmosphere. But it felt good. It felt right.

"MC!"

Her heart skipped and stuttered in her chest. She spun, her eyes lighting up immediately at the sight of him. She hadn't seen him all summer and the ache of missing him had her running, arms out, her feet leaving the floor as she threw herself into his embrace.

Sebastian grunted at the impact, the rumble of his laughter pleasant against her chest as she squeezed him tight. She didn't care that others were staring. She was owed a Sebastian hug, it had been too long.

"I missed you, too," he said, chuckling.

She lifted her head to look at him more closely, her hands behind his neck, her feet dangling uselessly where he still held her. A little sigh escaped her. Oh, how beautiful he was!

His skin was sun kissed, a riot of freckles splashed across his nose, his features sharper, hardened into those of a man. But his eyes, they were still him, still sparkling with his mischief and warmth.

Realising she was just staring at him, grinning like an idiot, she ruffled his mop of brown hair, some of the strands tinted with gold. "Someone has been spending a lot of time out of doors," she said. "You have a tan."

His eyebrows flicked upwards playfully. "I've been working the fields. Got to earn honest coin somehow."

He placed her back on her feet and her hands slid down to his upper arms, her own eyebrows lifting at the firm muscle she could feel through the fabric of his shirt sleeves. She gave them a squeeze in appreciation. Working the fields felt good on him. In fact, she took a step back to study him a little closer and felt a flicker of fire twist into life within her. He had filled out more, his shoulders were wider, and damn if he didn't seem taller. He filled the space he stood in completely, and she was staring hungrily.

His cheeks reddened and she gave herself a mental shake. If she wasn't careful she would be drooling in a minute. She covered her obvious oogling with a little smile, a turn of her shoulder. Make it playful, make him smile. "Looking good, Sallow," she nodded. "Your Crossed Wands fan club are going to be swooning in the spectator stands."

His trademark smirk appeared and he took her arm, walking her towards the staircase. "That's alright, if they get too much for me I can just set my all powerful bodyguard on them." He gave her a little wink. "Come on, let's find Ominis. I'm starving and there is a seat in the Great Hall with my name on it."

Getting to their table was a flurry of hugs and greetings. MC, Natty and Poppy had stood in a three person hug, squeezing each other for so long that Sebastian had waded in, separating the girls, tugging MC possessively away. "Now, now, ladies," he chuckled. "You can catch up later. Now, MC and I need to eat."

Poppy and Natty exchanged a secret, knowing look and then they let MC go with promises to meet up the next day.

Ominis was already seated, looking as handsome and composed as ever. MC slid onto the bench next to him, her hand gentle on his arm. "Hello, Ominis," she greeted.

He smiled and nodded. "Good evening, MC," he said. "May I say, your new perfume is particularly lovely. I shall have to remember it. I had grown used to your previous scent."

"Thank you, Ominis. You always say the sweetest things."

He passed her the jug of juice. "How was your summer? You're owls were less frequent this time."

"Busy, I was working through most of it," she said. "But I am more than ready to get back into the swing of things here. I've missed you all so much."

Sebastian met her gaze and smiled. Yes. It was really good to be back.

....*....

Sebastian turned down the covers of his bed and slid between the sheets, the cool, clean linen of his pillow soft against his cheek. His drapes were still open on the side that faced Ominis and he watched as his friend climbed into his own bed.

"It feels good to be back this year," he said.

Ominis hummed in agreement. "Our last year," he said, thoughtfully. "It's a bit scary to tell you the truth. The big, wide world awaits."

"How bad can it be?" Sebastian grinned.

"Where you're concerned, anything is possible," Ominis sighed.

Sebastian smirked and wriggled a bit, getting comfortable, sleepiness making his eyes droop.

"Do you think this will be the year when you finally tell MC how you feel?"

Sebastian froze, his eyes opening wide to stare across at Ominis. Ominis lay with his head angled towards him, waiting for a reply.

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about," Sebastian said.

Ominis sighed. "Of course you don't," he drawled. "Except, for me, it's so very obvious that you are ridiculously in love with her."

Sebastian rolled over to stare up at his canopy. Was he really that obvious? Maybe he needed to reign his affections back a touch then. He didn't want to scare her away. The thought of losing her made him feel sick to his stomach.

But, at the same time, his whole body ached for her. He closed his eyes, his mind replaying the moment she had spun to face him in the common room earlier. She was just perfect, so beautiful, and she had run to him, run right into his waiting arms. The feel of her softness pressed up against him like that had made his mind reel. For a split second, when she had stepped back from him, her eyes scanning him from head to toe, her hands feeling at the muscles in his arms, for that split second he had thought he saw something in her eyes. Desire? Want?

His heart had leaped, sped up. Did she want him too?

But then she had turned playful, flirty, the look gone, if it had been there at all.

He rubbed at his face with his hands and turned to look over at Ominis. "Maybe it's not love, Ominis. Maybe it's just...I don't know. A crush?"

"Oh, Sebastian, it's not a crush, and you know it," Ominis said. He leant up onto one elbow to face Sebastian. "And I will tell you right now, if you don't say something to her, then someone else is going to beat you to it. Someone else is going to snap her up and then you will have lost your chance."

Sebastian scowled. The very idea of another man touching MC waking up a rage in his gut that made him feel nauseous. Ominis was right. Wasn't he always? MC was highly eligible. Who wouldn't want her?

He rolled over, thumping at his pillow a bit before settling down. The sleepiness was gone. He lay there and thought about MC, his demons hovering in the corner, waiting to pounce.

....*....

The whip of brooms speeding past filled the air, the whack of the Beaters, and the shouts of the team joining the din of Quidditch. MC sat in the stands watching Sebastian speed through the air, his arm swinging the bat to whack a bludger back towards his opponent. His face was set with intent, a grunt leaving his mouth as he hit it, the crack of the impact ricocheted across the stadium.

MC bit her lower lip. Watching him was stirring up feelings. Hot feelings. She felt her cheeks flush with heat. She had been kissed by some handsome lads during the summer, but none of them had fired her up as quick he did. And he hadn't even touched her like that. Like she wanted him to.

Then he was gone, zooming off, the chants of the spectators rising as Hufflepuff took a shot at goal, but the Slytherin keeper saved it. MC shot to her feet, a cheer bursting from her lips at the cracking save. She shook her Slytherin scarf with pride and the Keeper, Andrew Clemmens, looked her way, giving her a cheeky wink. MC laughed and waved at him.

The game continued, Slytherin dominating the play, Hufflepuff struggling under the relentless stamina of her house. Imelda was like a roaring dragon, driving her team with a mad gleam in her eye. It paid off. Slytherin caught the Snitch. They were victorious!

As the team were heading off for the changing rooms, MC elbowed her way through the mass of students milling about to find Sebastian. He had earned a congratulatory hug, but she couldn't see him, craning her neck over many heads, her hands tugging at her scarf.

"Hey, MC."

She turned and looked up at Andrew Clemmens, the Slytherin Keeper. He gave her a smile. He was cute, soft, dark curls framing a handsome face, eyes like a stormy sky. He was well built, a strong neck and tall, very tall. Her lips curved upwards in a return smile. "Nice save earlier, Clemmens," she said.

"Thanks. I saw you cheering," he said. He glanced about, rubbing the back of his head. "Are you coming to the after party?"

"Wouldn't miss it," she said. Her brow creased slightly. "Have you seen Seb? I was hoping to catch him."

"Oh, er, I think he has gone in to change already," he said. He hesitated. "Are you and him a thing?"

MC flushed. "Oh, no. No, we're not a thing. Just friends." She inwardly cringed. The irony of everyone assuming that was the case was not lost on her. She was faced with similar questions on the regular.

Andrew's eyebrows lifted a little, a smile widening his lips. "Oh, okay, well...maybe I will catch up with you later at the party then?"

She stared up at Andrew. She wished he made her heart beat faster, it would make things a lot easier for her if he did, but no. However, she found herself nodding and said she would see him later. His smile was dazzling, and she watched him walk off, knowing without a doubt that she might well catch up with him later, but she couldn't give him her whole self.

....*....

The way MC had smiled at Andrew Clemmens, the way she had stood and watch him walk off, it made Ominis' words ring in his ears. Somebody else would try to win MC's heart. Sebastian's hands were clenched at his sides as he watched them talk. Was Andrew swooping in to make a claim on her?

Sebastian had been about to go to her, celebrate the win with her before changing, but now he was wound so tightly he would probably say something stupid. The best thing to do would be to go shower, cool off, then find her at the party afterwards.

But then, she was turning, her eyes scanning the crowd and seeing him standing there. Her face brightened and she was skipping towards him. She flicked her scarf up and over his head, wrapping it about his neck. "Why, hello, Beater boy," she sang. "How's it feel to be a winner?"

Her smile was infectious, he couldnt help but return it. "It feels pretty damn good, I must say."

She giggled and tugged on the scarf, he was pulled a little closer. Her face was close, close enough to lean in and kiss her. Fuck, he wanted to. He really would be a winner then, better than any match win.

"Going to the after party?" She asked.

He nodded. "You?"

"Want me to wait, or shall I meet you there?"

He wanted her to wait, no, he wanted to sneak her in to the changing rooms, smuggle her into a cubicle, press her up against his body, naked and wet. Fuck the party.

He reached up to rub a hand against his forehead, his thoughts making his blood feel hot and thick in his veins. "Meet you there?"

Oh, Sallow, you idiot!

She nodded and slid the scarf free of his neck, the scent of her wafting up from the wool to drive him wild. She prodded his chest with a finger. "No getting waylaid by your little fan club and leaving me waiting," she teased. She glanced to one side where a group of 5th year girls were staring and whispering, little flushed cheeks and admiring eyes.

MC's flirting was doing things to him, twisting his insides up into tight knots. He couldn't care less about this so called fan club. She was the only girl he wanted to kiss. But his jealousy was scraping nails through his thoughts. Did she flirt with Andrew like this? Did she give him that same smile?

"Won't you have Andrew Clemmens to keep you company if I'm not there?"

The words had left his tongue before he even realised they were there. Her face fell a little, her brow creasing, and her cheeks flooded with a rosy blush. "What?"

The words were out there now. Too late to pull them back. He shrugged, trying desperately to look as if he didn't care. But he did care. He cared a lot. "You two looked fairly cosy. Don't let me stand in your way."

She stared up at him, a shadow passing through her eyes, and then she straightened. She wrapped the scarf around her own neck and gave him a tight smile. "Since when do I ever let anyone stand in my way? I'll see you later."

And then she was gone, striding across the grounds, away from him. He watched her go for a minute, cursing his stupid mouth, before heading to go and change.

....*....

The Slytherin common room was a riot of noise, flags hanging from wherever they were thrown, plenty of refreshments, including more than one flask of firewhiskey being passed around the older students.

MC managed to snag one and took a long drag, calming her frayed nerves.

Could she have been any more obvious? Putting her scarf around his neck, tugging him closer, asking to wait for him. Why hadn't he kissed her for Merlin's sake?

And then, to top it all off, he had mentioned Andrew, telling her he wouldn't stand in her way. In other words, go snog him, I don't care.

If it didn't make her feel so wretched she might have actually laughed. She really needed to stop trying to send him signals. He clearly didn't want them.

He was her best friend. She had been desperately trying to not fuck it up for two years now. Maybe she needed to accept that this is how they were supposed to be.

Slapping a brave face on it, she smiled, she drank, and she sang along with the bawdy songs. She didn't see Sebastian, he hadn't showed up yet. Must have been giving her plenty of time to catch up with Andrew.

Speaking of which, there was the Keeper, swigging from a flask of fire whiskey. She found herself wandering his way, his smile aimed right at her. She smiled back and he offered her the flask.

Just like during the summer, she covered her pain with a handsome face, seeking comfort in their playful flirting, giving as good as she got.

When Andrew bent down to whisper in her ear, asking her if she wanted to go some place a little quieter, she nodded, her hand sliding into his. Grinning, he tugged her through the still rowdy party, and along towards his dormitory.

When his lips found hers she closed her eyes and tried not to think too much, because if she did, it would be Sebastian's face she saw behind her eyelids, and not Andrew's.

....*....

Two weeks. It had been two weeks since the Quidditch match and Sebastian could feel a shift in his friendship with MC. She was always busy, her presence most definitely missed by his side, and he hated it.

She hadn't said anything to suggest she was cross with him, always had a smile and friendly word for him, but he felt like she was slipping through his fingers, drifting away from him. He didn't know how to pull her back.

Neither of them had mentioned Andrew Clemmens again, but Sebastian had heard she disappeared with him from the party. One of the crates in the Undercroft had been shattered into tiny pieces after that tasty piece of gossip.

They didn't seem to be a couple, they didn't spend a lot of time together, but Sebastian did not like the way Andrew smiled at her. He didn't like it one bit.

To distract himself, Sebastian threw himself into his studying. Final year meant exams, important ones, and Sebastian did not want to spend the rest of his life farming in fields. He had higher hopes for himself, and that meant getting his head down and putting in the work.

He was laying on his bed, head resting on a hand reading a text book, when Ominis came in, wand out. "Ah good, you're here, Sebastian," he said. He moved to join him, sitting on the edge of his bed. He grimaced. "I've just had a chat with Sharp about my Potions assignment. It was better than last time, but still not up to standard. I'm getting rather vexed about it to tell the truth. Do you still have that book we used last time? I wouldn't mind another read of it."

Sebastian sat up, thinking. "I may have returned it to the library already. I don't recall seeing it in the Undercroft."

"Hmm, that's a shame. Perhaps I should go and hunt it out."

"Would you like me to go?" Sebastian offered. "I was going to head to the library anyway and look up a few things. Might as well give old Scribner the wind up while I'm there."

Ominis sighed. "That poor woman. Why must you bother her so?"

Sebastian smirked. "She loves me really, and anyway, it's my last year. I can't disappoint her now, I've got a reputation to uphold."

"Just try to avoid detention,' Ominis said. "I thought you could aim for a whole term without one this year."

Sebastian slid from his bed and clapped a hand to Ominis' shoulder. "I love your optimism, my friend. But, you know me. I'm not usually put off by a little detention."

....*....

"Psst."

MC turned and quickly ducked as a little ball of parchment paper sailed towards her and bounced onto her text books. She snatched up the paper, smoothing it out to see words scrawled in ink. 'You look sexy when you're concentrating.'

MC fought the smirk that tried to lift her lips. She looked across the library to where Andrew Clemmens was sitting, his own study books out on his table. He was sitting relaxed, his chair tipped back a little as he gazed across at her. He winked and she shook her head, still fighting that smirk.

They had kissed a few times, but she had told him she didn't want anything serious, and definitely didn't want it to be public knowledge. Her excuse? Well, being the hero of Hogwarts made her prime gossip material, so it was better to be discreet.

Mostly, she wasn't sure she wanted Sebastian to know about it. Knowing she was kissing other boys might make him think less of her. Despite trying her best to bury her feelings, her heart ached for him. She missed him, but being close to him made it harder to try and forget how much she burned for him. So, she had been avoiding him a bit. It was killing her to do it too.

Andrew was a distraction. A bit of fun. She thought he would grow bored with her, fed up with being a secret. Oddly, he seemed to love it.

Feeling bored with her study and acting on her mischievous streak, MC stood up, picked up a book and walked past Andrew's table. She gave him a little smile, her eyes indicating to follow, and she moved towards a quiet part of the library.

There was an alcove, right near some old texts that people rarely looked at. Not quite the restricted section, but a good spot for hiding none the less. She moved behind the bookshelves and didn't have to wait long before Andrew joined her.

He glanced at the books, trailing a finger along the old, dusty spines. "And what are you going to study in here?" He asked. His grin was playful.

She reached out and gave his tie a little tug. "I can think of a few things."

His hands moved to her waist and she tilted her head back. "I can think of more than a few things," he murmured.

He kissed her firmly, backing her up against the bookcase. She slid her arms around his neck, their tongues meeting in a deeper kiss.

Andrew must have been feeling bold, because he slid his hands down to cup her arse, squeezing gently. He moaned a little, pressing his hips against her. His mouth moved to her jaw, pressing kisses down to her neck.

MC felt a flash of panic. She didn't want him to mark her. "Easy," she whispered.

He licked up the length of her neck, kissing behind her ear. His fingers moved to the waistband of her skirt, thumb tracing lazy circles before he tugged her blouse free.

She gasped. He chuckled against her neck. "It's alright," he said. He slid a hand under her blouse, his fingers hot through the thin fabric of her chemise as he caressed her waist.

She opened her mouth to tell him to stop and then froze at the sound of footsteps. Andrew hadn't heard them, he was still kissing her neck, his hand sliding higher under her blouse, rucking the material up against his wrist.

Shit! She made a grab for his arm, ready to pull away and then the footsteps rounded the bookcase and came to a sudden stop.

Oh gods, no! No, not Sebastian, not him!

"Oh, fuck," she gasped. She shoved Andrew forcibly away from her, her gaze locked on to Sebastian's as he stood there, dumbstruck.

Andrew looked up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Oh, Sallow, it's only you." He breathed out a relieved chuckle. "Thought you were Scribner for a moment. That would have been awkward."

"And this isn't?" Sebastian asked, quietly. Too quietly.

MC cringed, her heart a twisted thing in her chest. Of all the people to walk around that corner. Why did it have to be him? She would have taken a months detention any day over this. The look on his face cut her like a Diffindo spell.

"Sebastian," she said. Her voice sounded like a plea. She even held out her hand a bit towards him.

Sebastian looked at her hand, his gaze lifting to meet hers once more before he stepped up to the bookcase beside her. His eyes were blank, cold even. He scanned the books before sliding an old volume off the shelf. "Don't mind me," he said. "Just pretend I was never here."

And then he was gone. His footsteps fading as he walked away.

MC felt tears burn the backs of her eyes. It felt like something had been ripped, a wound opened and left to sting, a gap widening between them. She didn't think she could bear it. She wanted to shout his name and make him come back. But what if he didn't? What if he ignored her? That would be worse. So she didn't make a sound.

"That was a close one," Andrew said. He grinned. "Now, where were we?"

He reached for her and she immediately slapped his hand away. He jumped. "What the...?"

MC hurriedly shoved her blouse back into her skirt and threw a cold glare at Andrew. "Enough," she snapped. "We're done."

He frowned in confusion. "What? Is this because Sallow saw us? He won't tell."

"No, he won't tell," she said. Of that she could be certain. "But, what if it hadn't been him?"

He looked at her, his eyes narrowing. "Are you sure there is nothing going on between you and Sallow?"

Her throat tightened. Oh, she was sure, now even more so. "I'm sorry, Andrew. I can't do this anymore."

Without a backward glance she walked quickly away from him. So much for not fucking things up.

....*....

The Undercroft was blistering hot, smoke and ash thick in the air. The whole place was a wreck, crates splintered, books scattered, feathers from exploded pillows drifting through the smog of his spell casting.

Sebastian was soaked in sweat, his hair stuck to his forehead, beads of it dripping off his face. Despite his furious blasting, his stomach was still clenched tight, his stance rigid. Whenever he closed his eyes, all he could see was Andrew Clemmens with his hand up MC's blouse, her face flushed, bodies pressed close.

He gritted his teeth. He had dreamed of doing something similar with her once, a hot, suffocating dream. Seeing her reenact it with another man made him feel sick, the bile stinging the back of his throat.

His shoulders slumped as he realised he had no right to be this furious. She didn't belong to him. She wasn't his. And that was his own damn fault. Hadn't Ominis warned him? He stared at the devastation he had caused in the room and sighed. If either her or Ominis were to see this, they would want to know why, and he wasn't ready for the answers to those questions. He lifted his wand. This was going to require a fair few Reparo spells.

Undercroft all fixed and looking as though a Sebastian sized storm hadn't blasted through it, he made his way to the Great Hall for dinner. He wasn't particularly hungry, but he had to show his face. He had to smooth over the cracks in his heart and make it alright. He couldn't lose her.

She was there, sitting next to Ominis, looking composed and neatly dressed. His jaw clenched, the image of her all flustered trying to crowd his thoughts. He climbed onto the bench opposite her, and she looked up, pausing her conversation with Ominis. He almost flinched. She looked scared for a split second. It was a rare emotion on her face, but it flitted across her features, and then was gone.

His resolve to make things right strengthened. He smiled, the movement effortless, a well practised lie to cover up his boiling emotions. "And what are you two whispering about?"

He reached for a bread roll and pulled it open.

"My Potions assignment," Ominis replied. "MC kindly offered to help."

Sebastian turned his gaze to her and lifted an eyebrow, his smirk teasing. "I'm surprised you can find the time."

She blushed, her eyes skipping awkwardly away. "You're not funny, Sallow," she grumbled.

Ominis tilted his head. "Am I missing something?"

Sebastian wanted to punch something, he flexed his fingers, his smile cool and controlled. "MC seems to have found herself a boyfriend, that's all."

"He is not my boyfriend," she said, quickly. "In fact, he isn't anything. I won't be meeting with him anymore."

Interesting. Sebastian shrugged and popped a piece of bread roll into his mouth. Ominis was switching his interest between the two of the them, soaking up the vibes. He would definitely have something to say once he got him alone. Sebastian was determined to avoid that until he had the will to face it.

"That's a shame," Sebastian said. "There is a market and fair on in Hogsmeade at the weekend, I was going to suggest you invited your new man to join us. Never mind."

The lie almost stuck in his throat. He would rather swim with Dugbogs.

MC frowned at him. "How very welcoming of you," she said. She screwed up her napkin and dropped it onto her plate, food half eaten. "Now, if you will excuse me, I have some things to see to."

She climbed off the bench, her mouth tight. Sebastian was trying to be nice, what was wrong with her? "I'll see you later, then," he said.

She threw him a look over her shoulder that almost made him flinch and then she put a gentle hand on Ominis' shoulder. "Meet me later and we will look at your assignment."

Ominis nodded. "Thank you, I appreciate the help."

MC left the Great Hall and Sebastian tossed down his bread roll, shaking his head. Maybe he should have just raged in front of her, at least he might have got some kind of reaction other than just coldness.

"Is this about Andrew Clemmens?" Ominis asked.

Sebastian stared at him. "You literally know everything, don't you?"

Ominis smirked. "Knowledge is power my friend," he said. Then he frowned. "If only that applied to my Potions work as well."

"I caught them kissing," Sebastian admitted, quietly.

"Hmm, well it sounds like that won't be happening again anytime soon," Ominis mused.

"You believe her?" Sebastian asked.

"Why would she lie?"

Sebastian shrugged. "I don't know."

Ominis sighed and shook his head, patting his mouth with his napkin and preparing to stand. "Honestly Sebastian, you're supposed to be smart."

"What does that mean?"

"You'll figure it out, hopefully." Ominis shook his head again and left Sebastian sitting at the table, a thoroughly confused frown on his face.

....*....

MC held out some kibble to the kneazle that was curling about her ankles, the interaction with the beasts calming her nerves. She hadn't meant to cry about it, but a twenty minute sniffle session in the bathroom had been unavoidable. How could she love Sebastian, but at the same time want to slap him across his smirking, handsome face?

He didnt feel the same way about her as she felt about him. Her heart squeezed painfully. His acceptance of Andrew had been like a cold bucket of water in her face. She tried to picture a jolly outing to Hogsmeade, Andrew at her side, Sebastian making jokes, and she just couldn't see it. There was something very wrong about the idea. But, he had offered that scenario up with a smile.

It was time to face the hard truth. She had to bury her love for him. Bury it deep. She winced, bending down to stroke the kneazle, scratching behind its ear. She might as well try and stop breathing, because switching off her feelings for him was going to be like being starved of air.

....*....

Halloween. Always an excuse to party, and being their last year, the students in 7th year were planning a little party of their own. Taking place after the feast, they had organised a place, just far enough from the school. A little tent near the edge of the Black Lake, innocent looking enough, until you stepped inside.

Decorated with pumpkin lanterns, garlands of flowers and spider webs, creepy candles, all manner of curiosities placed around, the party tent looked spectacular. MC had taken some inspiration from the gothic Victorian Muggle movement, and it had a creepy effect on their party space.

After the feast, MC, Poppy and Natty met up, giggling and whispering excitedly as they headed down towards the lake. MC was wearing a black dress, the corset adorned with lace and silver pearls, green ribbon tied through the laces. It pushed up her breasts rather scandalously, and she was showing much more skin than usual.

"Blimey, MC," Poppy giggled. "You're going to have no trouble finding a snogging partner tonight."

MC grinned wickedly. "That's the plan."

Natty frowned. "What about that Gryffindor boy you were courting?"

"Thomas? Pfft! We weren't courting," MC said. "I merely snogged him a few times. There is a difference."

Poppy put a hand over her mouth, giggling. "Oh MC, I wish I was as brave as you when it came to boys."

Brave? She wasn't brave. She was a fool. Hiding behind her flirting and kissing boys in broom cupboards was not being brave. Inside, she was quietly screaming. It didn't matter how many boys she turned a smile to, Sebastian Sallow was the boy who haunted her dreams, his was the face she saw when she closed her eyes at night.

Their friendship was a little strained lately, she found it harder and harder to be close to him. It was breaking her heart but she found she was spending less and less time with her best friend. And that was what she had wanted to avoid, wasn't it?

Ominis suspected, she knew he did, but he never pushed her for details, and she certainly didn't want to drag him into this mess. It would be highly unfair to place him between her and Sebastian.

Tonight, she wanted to drink, she wanted to dance, and she wanted to enjoy time with her friends. That wasn't too much, was it?

She turned to Poppy. "Got your eye on someone, Poppy?" She flashed a cheeky smirk. "Who is it?"

Poppy blushed a deep, rosy pink. She stuttered a little. "Oh, well...maybe."

MC squealed and squeezed her friends arm. "Oh, come on, don't leave me hanging!"

Poppy gave a nervous glance towards Natty, MC looked between them. "Who is it?"

Poppy winced. "Sebastian," she mumbled. She looked down, blushing harder. "I'm so sorry."

MC sucked in a quick breath, almost losing her step on the rough pathway, but caught herself in time. Ice spread along her spine. "Why...why should you be sorry? Sebastian is quite the catch."

Her voice sounded off to her own ears. She swallowed, hoping the other girls wouldn't notice her crippling shock.

"Sebastian was only one boy I thought might make for a lovely kissing partner," Poppy said, quickly. "But I also quite like Leander too. He has been very sweet to me lately, helping with the beasts. I think Leander is the more likely candidate. Sebastian isn't going to be interested in a girl like me. He is so handsome, highly eligible, he can have his pick of ladies I'm sure."

MC's lips felt stiff. The idea of Sebastian mulling over his pick of ladies made her skin itch and crawl. But, also the shock of realising that day was going to come hit her like a Bombarda spell. And she thought things were difficult now?

"I...er...I think Sebastian is indeed an eligible option," she managed to say. She looked at her friend, noting the awkward cringe on her face. She sighed and put her arm around Poppy. "Don't ever put yourself down like that, Poppy. If Sebastian thinks you're not good enough, then he is even more of an idiot than I thought."

Poppy managed a shy smile before looking at MC a little more closely. "You're not cross with me?"

"Why in Merlin's name would I be cross with you?"

Poppy and Natty exchanged a look. "Well, you and Sebastian have always been so very close..."

MC forced a chuckle and waved her hand dismissing her words. "Oh, Poppy, in case you hadn't noticed, I've been snogging my way through the Quidditch team boys. Sebastian couldn't care less. Of course I am not cross."

Poppy and Natty exchanged another meaningful look and MC decided that she'd had more than enough of this conversation. She tugged on Poppy's arm. "Come on, that's enough boy talk. Let's get to this party. I need a drink, the quicker the better."

....*....

Poppy and Natty watched as MC made a beeline for the drink table, scooping punch into a glass and downing it in a few gulps.

"You're a very good actress, Poppy," Natty said.

Poppy shrugged. "At least we got what we wanted," she said. She looked up at Natty. "You were right. She is mad for him."

"I would say she cares a lot for you too, my friend," Natty said. "Despite trying to cover up her true feelings, she was quick to jump to your defence."

Poppy grimaced. "I know. Makes me feel bad for deceiving her like that."

"Don't worry, it's not like you're actually going to sink your teeth into Sebastian now, is it. Leander on the other hand..."

The girls looked at each other and giggled.

....*....

The party had descended into a sultry, alcohol infused vibe. Couples danced close together, the lighting now dimmer, shadows reaching out from corners to cloak the wandering hands and stolen kisses. It was still packed out inside the tent. 6th years had found their way in, making the most of the night, or what was left of it.

Sebastian pressed his way through the throng of dancers, bodies hot and writhing. The atmosphere was thick, so thick you could taste it, and he debated bailing. Ominis had left about an hour ago, tiring of the shenanigans. But, he couldn't leave without one more look for her.

The sight of her in that tight black dress had nearly stopped his heart. She was so fucking beautiful, and bordering on scandalous with the amount of flesh she had on show. She had proved popular with the lads, and his ears had bled with the comments he had overheard.

The last time he had seen her she had been refilling her glass from the punch bowl, staggering a little, clearly drunk. He had asked her if she was alright and she had giggled, patted his cheek and insisted she was fine.

She was vulnerable in that state. The thought of someone taking advantage of that vulnerability had his fists clenched tight at his sides.

One more quick check and then maybe call it a night.

"There you are." A soft giggle, a hand on his upper arm. He would know that voice anywhere.

He met her gaze, her eyes were lidded, burning with something that made his insides turn molten. His eyes dropped to her mouth, her lips were slightly parted, welcoming. He licked his own lips. "There you are," he returned.

She leant in close, her mouth near his ear. "Dance with me," she urged.

Her arms snaked up around his neck and she pressed herself against him. His hands found her waist, his fingers flexing over the bones of her corset. Her smile was going to be his undoing.

They began to move, her hips a devastating tease against him, and he gulped. Heat spread through his blood, firing up every nerve ending until his ears were roaring with his pulse. Hadn't he just been prowling the dance floor trying to prevent someone doing this exact thing with her?

Her eyes locked with his, and his grip on her tightened, urging her as close as possible. She was intoxicating, irresistible. She rolled her hips and a groan slipped from his lips, a noise he hoped was swallowed in the throbbing sounds that surrounded them.

One of her hands slid downwards, over his shoulder to smooth over his chest. Her fingers curled into the fabric of his vest, holding him tightly. The blood in his veins was pulsing hotly, flooding downwards towards his pants. He could feel himself tightening, his arousal growing uncomfortable in the restriction of his clothing.

She moved her head closer, the warmth of her breath fanning across his throat. His heart hammered wildly, he smoothed a hand up and around to press against the bare flesh of her shoulder blades. Her skin was hot, feverish and impossibly soft.

She sighed against him, her head tilting, exposing her neck, her body a writhing, pulsing thing in his arms. He thought he might actually explode, his desire a roaring desperate thing. He stared at the flesh of her neck, smooth, inviting. He clenched his jaw, the need to claim that neck with his mouth made his tongue burn.

Other dancers jostled against them, they staggered a little, his arms tightened around her, protecting her his first instinct. She gasped, pressing impossibly closer, and somehow, his head had dipped, his mouth a breath away from the skin of her neck.

The temptation overwhelmed him and he sank his mouth against her flesh, lips sliding over the skin, tongue swirling until he drew her skin upwards in a desperate suck. She was divine, his eyes rolled at the taste and the scent of her this close. His cock twitched hungrily in his pants.

Her head rolled backwards, a long breathless moan leaving her lips, her fingers sliding upwards to grip his hair.

He sucked her, hard, his mouth moving to taste as much skin as possible. He was like a man starved, his tongue swirling over the reddened flesh to soothe her. He pressed hot kisses all the way up, the softness of her hair against his nose as he buried his face below her ear, breathing in deeply. He could hear her panting, her fingers twisting painfully in his hair.

He was lost, drifting in a haze of fire, the hand on her waist lowered, gripping her hip, grinding her against his arousal. He was so desperate for the friction he couldn't help it. She drove him crazy.

Her small cry of pleasure sounded in his ear. He'd made her do that, she wanted it. His teeth sank into her earlobe and tugged.

How was this happening? She was rubbing against him, seeking his arousal and grinding tightly against it. His control nearly slipped completely. Images of her doing this naked, her hair spread out against his bed sheets, seared across his mind. He could feel his underwear growing damp, his cock twitching and leaking against her movements.

"MC," he murmured hotly. They had to stop. It had to stop before he lost all control. But, fuck, did this feel good. If he could freeze the moment, savour it, hold her like this forever, he would die a happy man.

To be continued...... Part 2