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eclipsaria · 6 days ago

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Took You Long Enough

Summary // In which a workaholic CEO finds his calm in the form of his respected senior’s daughter.

Pairing:

CEO! Seungcheol x reader

Warnings:

Fluff, slow-burn, romance, engaged, age gap(10 years), mentioned of kids, married, food, cologne and watch brand names, sugar daddy! Seungcheol if you squint, lmk if i miss out any

Side characters:

SVT members

W/C:

12 671

Rating: [ 13+ SFW ]

Note:

@nerdycheol , you are the one that suggested the watch brand and Hermés cologne brand🤣 and you as a cheol's wife, i take anything you said🫡

Song:

Main Masterlist

Seventeen Masterlist

Taglist

Âme Sœur Masterlist

The office buzzed to life every morning by 8:00 a.m. A polished world of swift elevator dings, the rhythmic tapping of keyboards, and the faint scent of espresso lingering near the breakroom. Floors were lined with pristine glass partitions, and employees moved with a subtle urgency, well aware of the silent clock that ticked behind every deadline.

On the top floor, behind a sleek black door embossed with silver letters, was the corner office of Choi Seungcheol, the man who built the company from the ground up. He wasn’t just the CEO, he was the presence. Charismatic, sharp, and composed, Seungcheol was known for walking into a room and changing its air pressure with just a glance. Rumor had it that he could read a financial report faster than most people could skim a menu, and no one ever left a meeting with him without either a promotion, a plan, or a panic attack.

But beneath his tailored suits and impenetrable gaze was a man with a past no one dared to ask about, and a reputation he carried like armor.

Today, as sunlight spilled through the towering windows of his office, Seungcheol stood facing the city skyline, coffee in hand, unaware that the day ahead would shift everything he thought he had under control.

At just 30 years old, Choi Seungcheol had already climbed the summit most people only dreamed of. It was hard to believe he started as a low-level assistant at the age of 20. No connections, no shortcuts, just a relentless work ethic and a vision that burned behind his sharp eyes. He wasn’t born into wealth, nor did he inherit the company. Every step upward was carved with grit and sleepless nights.

Now serving his second year as CEO, there wasn’t a single person in the company who questioned his leadership. Titles didn't need to be old to command respect, not when every project under his lead launched with flawless execution, crushing expectations and setting new industry standards. His name echoed in boardrooms across the city as a young prodigy, the kind of leader who didn't just manage—but rewrote—the playbook.

What made him even more admired, or perhaps feared, was how calm he remained in the face of chaos. Seungcheol didn’t just make decisions; he made the right ones and fast. He listened more than he spoke, observed more than he intervened, and when he did speak, the room listened.

He turned back from the window now, placing his coffee on the desk as his assistant knocked twice on the door.

“Come in,” he said coolly, buttoning his suit jacket.

In a world where soulmates were real, love was less of a question and more of a certainty. The rule was simple. When you meet your soulmate, just one look into their eyes, and you’ll hear wedding bells. Not a metaphor—actual bells. Ringing in your ears like a celebration only you two could hear. After that, everything seemed to fall into place, like the universe giving you a neatly wrapped ending: soulmates meet, fall in love, and live happily ever after.

Well… everyone except Choi Seungcheol.

His friends, his closest circle, were either happily married, halfway through wedding plans, or sending him pictures of their toddlers with captions like “Uncle Cheol, when’s your turn?” The world was moving fast, and for someone like him, who always caught up quickly, this was the one race he couldn’t outrun.

He wasn’t single because he hated love. He just didn’t want to gamble with emotions. Exes and soulmates don’t mix well. What if he fell in love with someone who wasn’t the one? What if he broke someone’s heart only to meet his true soulmate later, and it all came crumbling down? So he stayed away from flings, from love, from anything that could mess with the balance of his life.

Still, it didn’t stop the slow crawl of anxiety. He wasn’t worried about getting married late, he was worried about his parents.

At 27, his mother had set him up on a blind date with someone’s daughter, he showed up out of respect, but came home early with a headache.

At 28, his father mailed out carefully written profiles of Seungcheol to other families with daughters, practically advertising him like some limited-edition luxury product.

By 29, they dropped all pretense and started pushing for an arranged marriage. “Just meet her, see if your eyes ring,” they said. He didn’t.

Now at 30, Seungcheol didn’t know what plan his parents were cooking up, but whatever it was, it wouldn’t be good.

But what could he do? Nothing. And so, as always, he chose the routine that never disappointed him: Wake up. Go to the office. Handle meetings. Review reports. Sign approvals. Go home. Sleep.

It was safe. Predictable and efficient.

It was just another day at work. The usual hum of morning emails and the faint buzz of distant phones filled the air, when Seungcheol’s secretary knocked once before entering, arms full with neatly stacked document files.

She placed them on his desk without a word at first, as he flipped through the last few pages of a report. But then, came a rare request.

“Mr. Shin from Jeonghwa Group has extended an invitation. It’s a masquerade party,” she said, tone light but respectful. “Held by his wife. They’re hoping for your attendance.”

The name made Seungcheol look up, pausing mid-page. “…Mr. Shin?”

She nodded. “Yes. He personally requested your presence.”

Choi Seungcheol blinked once, then leaned back in his chair. Mr. Shin wasn’t just anyone, he was a veteran in the business world, one of the few people Seungcheol looked up to when he first entered the corporate jungle at twenty. Sharp, poised, but known for his warm charisma, Mr. Shin had once told Seungcheol over lunch: “Success is important, but relationships will carry you further than numbers ever will.”

Unfortunately, Seungcheol never quite grasped the latter.

He was never a party type. In his mind, parties disrupted efficiency. Hours wasted in polite conversation, standing under chandeliers, sipping drinks he didn’t care for. He didn’t hate people, he just… preferred structure.

But this invitation wasn’t something he could brush off. Not when it came from Mr. Shin. Refusing could send the wrong message, and disappointing both Mr. Shin and his wife was out of the question.

A soft sigh escaped his lips.

“…Tell them I’ll attend,” he said finally, a faint crease forming between his brows. “Clear the schedule for that night. If there are any clashes, push them back. And set a time for shopping. Something formal. Masked.”

“Understood,” his secretary replied with a slight smile, already tapping notes into her tablet as she turned to leave.

The door clicked shut behind her, and then silence returned. Seungcheol sat there for a moment longer, staring blankly at the papers in front of him before removing his glasses and slowly pinching the bridge of his nose. A heavy sigh followed.

“A masquerade party, huh…” he muttered.

— ♬ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ♬ —

The night of the masquerade arrived with a velvet sky draped in soft stars, the city skyline glowing beneath it like scattered jewels. Seungcheol’s black car pulled up to the venue. An opulent estate on the outskirts of the city owned by the Shin family, known for hosting only the most exclusive circles.

From the very first step inside, the masquerade felt like stepping into another world.

The entrance hall was grand. High arched ceilings adorned with delicate gold filigree, with glittering chandeliers casting warm light across the polished marble floors. Elegant floral arrangements stood tall in glass vases, the soft scent of fresh orchids and lilies lingering in the air. Staff in crisp uniforms glided past with trays of champagne and wine, offering delicate glasses that sparkled like the guests themselves.

And the guests. Each one hidden behind ornate masks, dressed in tailored suits and flowing gowns, laughter muffled by polite conversation and the occasional clink of crystal. The entire ballroom shimmered with motion and elegance, the air alive with quiet prestige.

At the far end of the room, an orchestra played a soft, haunting melody. A waltz that wound through the evening like silk. Violins harmonized with cellos as couples swayed gently across the dance floor, their silhouettes graceful under golden lights. The music didn’t demand attention; it wove through the space, letting elegance speak for itself.

Seungcheol stood at the entrance for a moment longer, absorbing the scene. Dressed in a deep charcoal tuxedo, his mask was sleek, made of brushed silver, perfectly fitted and simple. Just like him.

He adjusted the cuffs of his suit with quiet precision and took a slow breath.

Seungcheol moved through the grand hall with quiet grace, the soft shuffle of his polished shoes drowned by the music and conversation. His eyes scanned the crowd until he spotted a familiar figure near the center of the ballroom. Mr. Shin, dressed in a regal navy suit, silver embroidery trimming the collar of his jacket. Standing beside him, equally elegant, was Mrs. Shin, her mask adorned with pearls that shimmered with every turn of her head.

With his posture poised and his mask adjusted, Seungcheol approached them and gave a respectful bow.

“Mr. Shin, Mrs. Shin,” he greeted formally, voice steady. “Thank you for the kind invitation.”

Mr. Shin turned, a pleased smile stretching under his mask. “Seungcheol! I was beginning to worry you wouldn’t show. I’m glad you came.”

Mrs. Shin offered a soft nod, “You look dashing tonight, dear. As always.”

“I wouldn’t miss this, not when it comes from the both of you,” he said with a light smile, still formal in tone. “The venue is breathtaking.”

They shared a few pleasantries, light jokes exchanged beneath crystal chandeliers. Seungcheol tried his best to blend into the moment, smiling at the passing comments, laughing politely, sipping wine when handed a glass, but the stiffness in his shoulders never quite faded.

And then, as expected, his conversation naturally veered back to what he knew best.

“Actually, just before coming here, we finalized the restructuring proposal for the third branch’s distribution-”

He stopped himself, but the Shin couple only smiled knowingly.

Mrs. Shin tilted her head with a gentle chuckle, “Oh, darling. You can talk about work all you like if it helps you feel at home. No masks are needed for that.”

Her words, though playful, pierced the tension in him like a warm knife through ice. Seungcheol let out a soft exhale, barely realizing he had been holding his breath.

And so, he spoke. About the company. About numbers. About staff growth. About challenges and solutions.

And strangely enough, the conversation didn’t feel out of place. Mr. Shin offered insights, Mrs. Shin listened intently, nodding with that gentle, matronly glow she always carried. The air grew lighter around them, the laughter more genuine, the pressure in Seungcheol’s chest slowly easing.

Then, Mr. Shin placed a hand on Seungcheol’s shoulder with a proud smile.

“There’s someone I’d like you to meet,” he said. “My daughter just returned home after her studies abroad. I think the two of you will get along.”

Seungcheol turned just in time to see her approach.

You wore a pale lavender gown, subtle and elegant, flowing like morning mist. Your mask was delicate, silver trimmed with lace, soft feathers curling at the edges. You moved with the grace of someone raised in soft-spoken confidence, eyes quietly scanning the room until they landed on him.

The moment your eyes met, everything fell silent, except for the sound of wedding bells. Clear and unmistakable. Ringing only in your ears, like the universe had struck a chord, and fate had written the first line of a new story.

Both stood still for a moment too long, unsure whether to speak or breathe. And in the corner of his eye, Seungcheol saw Mrs. Shin’s knowing smile.

The bells still echoed faintly in Seungcheol’s ears, even as the rest of the ballroom returned to its natural soundscape. Soft music, low chatter, the clinking of glasses.

But for Seungcheol, the world had slowed.

His soulmate. He had finally found you. He should have felt relief, even joy. This was the moment most people spent their lives yearning for. The ache he had carried silently for years, the lingering worry behind every family dinner and silent commute, had finally found an answer.

But fate, it seemed, wasn’t going to make it easy.

You are twenty. Young, bright-eyed, and still new to the world. Ten years younger. And worse, you are Mr. Shin’s daughter, the Mr. Shin he had admired for over a decade, the very man who shaped the path Seungcheol now walked. It didn’t feel real. It didn’t feel allowed.

This couldn’t be happening… could it?

Just as he was grounding himself, still locking eyes with the girl whose existence had just turned his world upside down, Mr. Shin’s voice cut in again, calm and casual.

He reached out, gently patting his daughter’s head as he looked at you with a father’s pride.

“I’ve been preparing for retirement,” he said, almost wistfully, “but before I can step back, I need to make sure she’s ready for what comes next.”

Seungcheol turned to him slowly, blinking.

“I need someone to teach her how to face the working world. Someone sharp, experienced… someone I trust more than anyone else in this industry.”

He turned fully to Seungcheol now, smile warm, eyes firm.

“So before I retire, Seungcheol… can I pass her to you? For mentorship, or practical training. Nothing prepares someone better than real experience.”

The room suddenly felt too warm.

Seungcheol’s grip on his champagne glass tightened slightly, his composed expression slipping just barely for a breath of a second.

Not only had he just discovered his soulmate, he was also being asked on the same night to personally guide you into the working world, into the very fire he had spent ten years learning to survive.

And you would be close every day. His soulmate. His senior’s daughter. His future trainee. His knees almost gave out, but he smiled faintly and nodded, because what else could he do?

“…Of course, sir,” he said, voice steady despite the quiet chaos behind it. “I’d be honored.”

But in his mind, there was only one thought: this is going to be a problem.

As if sensing the moment had grown too full, Mr. and Mrs. Shin politely excused themselves to greet other guests, leaving Seungcheol standing face-to-face with the person who had just unknowingly disrupted the stability he had clung to for years, you.

He watched you for a second longer, trying to find the right words, or any words at all.

You looked up at him too, unsure yet calm. Composed, despite the thunderous sound that only the two of you had heard. And then, gently, your voice slipped out from behind your mask.

“So… I guess we heard it too,” you said quietly, referring to the wedding bells.

Seungcheol let out a short breath, a dry chuckle escaping him. “Yeah. We did.”

A pause hung between you. Heavy, but not uncomfortable, more like the silence that comes when something profound has settled in the space.

“I’m Choi Seungcheol,” he said, dipping his head politely. “But I assume you already knew that.”

You gave a polite little curtsy, unable to suppress a small smile. “And I’m Shin Y/N.” You tilted your head a bit. That earned a faint, genuine smile from him.

The orchestra shifted to a softer tune, one that made the chandeliers shimmer with each drawn note. Around you, the world moved on—guests swayed on the dance floor, laughter floated in waves—but between you and Seungcheol, the air remained still. Electric.

“I didn’t expect this,” he admitted. “Tonight, or… you.”

You let out a small laugh. “You mean you didn’t expect your soulmate to be twenty years old?”

His eyes widened a little, surprised by your boldness, before he shook his head slowly with the ghost of amusement on his face. “Was I that obvious?”

“Just a little,” you teased. “But it’s alright. I didn’t expect my soulmate to be someone my parents literally worship either. So I think we’re even.”

He looked at you, really looked, and saw more than just his senior’s daughter. He saw someone with her own mind, her own spark. Not just someone being pushed into his world, but someone who could make space in it.

“If this gets overwhelming,” he said suddenly, voice a little softer, a little more real, “just say so. I won’t rush into anything. I know this is… a lot.”

You raised a brow, your gaze gentle. “Why do you sound like you’re the one overwhelmed?”

He paused, as if your words peeled away a layer of him.

“…Because I’ve spent years building a life I could control,” he said quietly.

You smiled behind your mask. “Then maybe I’m here to teach you how to let go. Just a little.”

That caught him off guard. A breath of silence passed… and then, he laughed, low and genuine, maybe for the first time all week.

“…I think you might be,” he murmured. And just like that, under the soft music, crystal chandeliers, and masks that hid just enough but revealed just as much. The world had quietly started to change for Choi Seungcheol.

— ♬ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ♬ —

The next day arrived with polished shoes, pressed suits, and a strangely quickened heartbeat that Seungcheol couldn’t quite explain, not until his office door was knocked on, sharp and polite.

His secretary peeked in with a gentle smile, then stepped aside. “Young Miss Shin has arrived, sir.” And then you stepped in behind her.

For a moment, just a moment, Choi Seungcheol forgot how to breathe.

At the masquerade, your mask had hidden part of your face, letting only your voice and eyes do the talking. But now, standing there in the light of his office, dressed professionally yet effortlessly graceful, you looked nothing short of a princess sent straight from a fairytale.

Your features were delicate, your posture refined, and your smile-

God, that smile.

You bowed deeply, a full 90-degree gesture of respect. “It’s an honor to work under you, Mr. Choi.”

That broke something in him, just for a second. He almost gulped, throat tightening as he tried to suppress the warmth crawling up his neck. His jaw clenched lightly, keeping his face composed as always, but his eyes… his eyes betrayed him for a heartbeat too long.

His soulmate was bowing to him like a subordinate, like he wasn’t losing his grip on the damn air in the room.

“Thank you,” he managed, his voice still firm but quieter than usual. “You may begin today.”

He cleared his throat and quickly looked away, standing up and adjusting his cufflinks just to buy time. “You may return to your tasks,” he told his secretary, who gave a small nod and closed the door behind her.

Now, it was just the two of you.

The air shifted again. Quiet, but not cold, just full.

You stepped forward softly, hands tucked behind your back, walking with a quiet elegance that echoed across the floor of his office. You stopped just short of his desk, leaned forward a little, and smiled.

“I wish for a happy time working with you, Mr. Choi.”

His heart skipped a full beat. He blinked once, then twice. He internally cursed himself for how fast his chest reacted, how your presence so effortlessly chipped away at the steel mask he had worn for years.

“…Don’t get too comfortable,” he muttered under his breath, turning slightly away as he pretended to check something on his desk.

He picked up a pen, but forgot what document it was for. Clearing his throat again, he motioned for you to sit on the chair in front of his desk.

“Take out a pen and a notebook,” he said briskly, avoiding your eyes. “If you want to be the next CEO of your father’s company, you’ll need to start by remembering a few things.”

Still smiling, you sat down and pulled out your notebook obediently.

“Rule number one,” he continued, finally looking at you again, but carefully now, like one wrong glance would unravel him. “No one cares about your title. Earn their respect with competence, not your last name.”

You nodded, scribbling it down.

“Rule two,” he said, watching the way your hair fell slightly as you wrote. “Always know more than you speak. And listen more than you think.”

You lifted your head just enough to meet his gaze and softly replied, “That sounds exactly like you, Mr. Choi.”

His pen almost slipped from his hand. He coughed once more, this time trying to suppress the hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

“Rule three,” he said sharply, eyes back on your notebook. “Stop charming your mentor. It’s distracting.”

You giggled, quiet, warm, and knowing.

He didn’t say it out loud, but deep down, he already knew that this was going to be a long, dangerous, beautiful mentorship.

The first few hours of your mentorship under Choi Seungcheol moved swiftly, on the surface.

He kept his instructions sharp, his tone professional, walking you through key departments, introducing the core team, and pointing out what made his company function like a well-oiled machine. To any outsider, it looked like another day of excellence from the CEO.

But the staff, sharp-eyed and always quietly observant, noticed something was off. It wasn’t something loud. There were no smiles stretched too far, no extravagant gestures. It was the way he stood a little too close.

The way his voice dropped just slightly whenever he spoke to you. The way he’d glance at you longer than he intended when you weren’t looking. And above all, the strange, rare gentleness in his expression when he watched you scribble notes or tilt your head in concentration.

To them, he was different today.

Seungcheol didn’t think so. He was just… doing his job. Guiding you, as Mr. Shin had asked, offering knowledge and sharing insight. So why did standing next to you feel like the only part of his day that wasn’t suffocating?

Every time your shoulder brushed his as you walked beside him, his chest felt lighter, like the years of pressure he’d buried beneath routine and deadlines were slowly peeling away.

He blamed it on the soulmate bond. That had to be it.

Still, it didn’t explain how you made silence feel so comforting. Even when neither of you were talking, your presence carried a calm aura—quiet but grounding.

And for someone like Seungcheol, a man who lived and breathed pressure, your calm was unfamiliar… and unsettling.

Not in a bad way, but in a foreign, “how-do-I-function-while-feeling-peace” kind of way.

He was in the middle of explaining their operations team structure when he noticed you looking up at him with that same unwavering gaze. Focused, soft, and admiring, as if he wasn’t just your mentor, but someone you deeply trusted already.

That was when he blanked out. He literally forgot the point he was going to make.

“-and that department handles… uh…” His brows furrowed, staring at the floor plan pinned on the wall like it had betrayed him. “The, um…”

You tilted your head. “The logistics team?”

He cleared his throat, nodding once. “Right. Logistics.”

His voice returned to its usual pace, but internally, panic echoed like an alarm.

Thankfully, a familiar knock on the glass broke the moment. His secretary peeked in again.

“Sir, your meeting is in fifteen minutes.”

A lifeline.

He straightened quickly. “Right. Thank you.”

He turned to you, voice brisk but not cold. “I’ll need to prepare. My secretary will guide you around the rest of the office.”

You nodded politely. “Of course, Mr. Choi.”

And just like that, he walked away, maybe a little too quickly, and stepped into his office, letting the door close behind him.

Only when the lock clicked into place did he exhale. Running a hand through his hair, he leaned against his desk for a second, glaring at nothing in particular before muttering under his breath: “…Wake up, Choi Seungcheol.”

He scowled at his own reflection in the black monitor, then sat down and opened the meeting files, anything to distract himself from the echo of your smile in his mind.

The meeting room was sleek and quiet, filled with department heads and key project managers all seated in neat rows around the long conference table. On the wall, the quarterly projections were being presented by one of the finance leads: charts, graphs, bullet points ticking forward one by one.

From the outside, Choi Seungcheol looked the same as always. Sharp suit, steady gaze, and the calm posture as he sat at the head of the table.

But his fingers betrayed him.

They tapped quietly against the table’s surface, then began twirling his pen between them. An unconscious habit. Over and over, the silver pen spun in rhythm, not once slipping, not once faltering. Precision, yes, but not focus.

His eyes stayed forward, directed at the slides, but his mind wasn’t in the room.

It was still in the hallway. Back where you walked beside him, soft footsteps echoing alongside his. It was stuck on the memory of the way you tilted your head, smiling gently. The way your voice sounded when you said, “I wish for a happy time working with you, Mr. Choi.”

His heartbeat picked up again.

He subtly loosened the top button of his collar with one hand, hoping no one noticed. A deep breath filled his lungs, but did nothing to cool the sudden warmth behind his ears.

Get a grip, Seungcheol.

One of the department leads directed a question toward him. He caught it, answered professionally and concisely. The pause before he spoke was half a second too long, but not enough to cause alarm.

His pen spun again, even faster now, almost mechanical.

Why was this happening?

He had handled crises, led multi-million-dollar negotiations, turned failing branches into flagship models. He had faced rooms full of foreign investors and government officials. But now, here he was, fidgeting with a pen like some college intern, thinking about a girl with calm eyes and a presence that made his carefully structured world feel… quiet.

Not empty, just quiet. And Seungcheol didn’t know if that was comforting—or terrifying.

Someone called out his name again, snapping him out of his trance.

“Yes?” he responded, blinking back into the present.

All eyes turned to him, waiting. He cleared his throat and nodded slowly. “I agree with the previous point. Let’s move forward with scenario B, but add a contingency plan for client-side delays. I’ll review the proposed schedule by Friday.”

Everyone nodded. The meeting continued.

But even as the presentation resumed, Seungcheol’s hand never stopped spinning the pen. And under the table, where no one could see, his leg bounced just slightly.

He didn’t even realize he was smiling, just barely.

The meeting ended without incident, at least from an outside perspective. Everyone filed out of the room with their notes and laptops, chatting quietly, discussing next steps. Seungcheol stayed seated for a few seconds longer than usual, pretending to review the printed schedule, though his eyes barely read the lines.

When he finally stood, he adjusted his jacket, gave his usual nod to his assistant, and made his way back to his office.

The walk down the hallway was normal. The familiar click of his shoes on polished floors. A few passing greetings from staff. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Until he opened his office door. And you were there, seated on the leather guest chair in front of his desk, legs crossed, notebook in hand. You looked up immediately as the door opened, offering him that same disarming smile, the one that had singlehandedly ruined his focus for the past two hours.

“Oh,” you said softly, “welcome back, Mr. Choi.”

His steps faltered, but only for a second. He walked inside with his usual calm, closing the door behind him. “Did my secretary bring you back here?”

“She did,” you replied, standing up as a gesture of respect. “I didn’t want to wander around too long without you.”

His jaw tightened ever so slightly at that sentence.

Without me, huh?

He made his way around the desk, taking his seat while pretending not to notice the way your presence shifted the air in the room. He placed his notes down, but didn’t look at them.

You stood there quietly, notebook still in hand, waiting—always respectful, always composed. He hated how much he liked that.

“Did you find the rest of the office tour informative?” he asked, finally meeting your gaze.

You nodded, stepping forward again, calm and graceful. “Yes. Everyone was kind. But…”

You paused for a beat, then gave a teasing tilt of your head. “It’s a little boring without you.”

His pen rolled slightly across the desk from how fast his fingers froze.

You quickly added, “I meant that you explain things better. That’s all.”

“…Right,” he replied, clearing his throat, gaze darting briefly to the side before grounding himself again. “Let’s resume where we left off then. Sit down.”

You obeyed, smiling faintly as you opened your notebook again. Seungcheol forced himself to focus—not on you, not on your expression, not on the soft perfume that somehow lingered between the pages of your notes—but on his words. Yet, as he began speaking again about corporate hierarchy and strategic positioning, his voice betrayed him. It was softer now, gentler.

He wasn’t sure when that started happening. He only knew it never sounded like that before you arrived.

— ♬ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ♬ —

The sun dipped lower behind the skyline, casting a golden hue across the city buildings outside his office window. The office had begun to empty, lights switching off one by one as employees finished their tasks and bid each other goodnight.

Seungcheol was still at his desk, organizing a few final documents, when your voice cut through the stillness.

“Mr. Choi?” you asked, standing by the doorway, bag slung over your shoulder. “I think my driver forgot to come. I’ve been trying to call, but… nothing.”

He looked up immediately, brows tugging together. “Didn’t your father assign someone?”

You shook your head, looking only slightly bothered. “Both of my parents are working late today. The housekeeper said she can’t leave either. I can wait, it’s fine. I’ll figure something out.”

Seungcheol stared at you for a moment longer before instinct kicked in. He grabbed his phone and stood up, dialing Mr. Shin with practiced fingers.

The call connected quickly. “Mr. Shin,” Seungcheol said with crisp professionalism. “This is Seungcheol. I wanted to ask if I should assign one of my drivers to send Y/N-”

“Why do you fetch my daughter back home?” Mr. Shin’s voice cut in, amused. “You know where my house is, and I’m sure my daughter trusts you.”

Seungcheol’s brain momentarily stalled.

“I- uh…” His voice cracked before he caught himself. “Yes, sir. Of course. If that’s what you prefer.”

“You’ll be fine,” Mr. Shin said cheerfully, “Good luck,” and then promptly hung up.

The silence in his office was sudden, sharp. Seungcheol lowered his phone slowly, blinking at it like it had betrayed him.

And then, your voice.

“So?” you asked, leaning slightly into the doorway now, your tone light, your smile just a touch too innocent to be unintentional. “What did he say?”

Seungcheol sighed, head tilting back briefly toward the ceiling. A soft groan escaped him, one of defeat rather than irritation. He looked at you, one brow slightly raised.

“Grab your things,” he muttered, already reaching for his coat. “Let’s go. I’ll drive you home.”

You let out a delighted hum, following close behind as he flicked off the lights and walked toward the elevator.

Inside, the air was calm and comfortable, yet Seungcheol’s heart thudded just a little faster. Not because of the weight of responsibility, but because you were beside him again, walking into the kind of silence that didn’t feel awkward.

This day was spiraling far faster than he’d planned… and he hadn’t even started the car yet.

The car ride started in silence.

You sat beside him in the passenger seat, hands resting neatly on your lap, your bag tucked by your feet. Seungcheol, behind the wheel, exhaled slowly as he adjusted the rearview mirror, not because it needed adjusting, but because he needed something to do other than look at you.

He wasn’t used to this.

His soulmate, sitting this close, beside him, inside his car. A space that had always been quiet, strictly for thinking or decompressing. Now? It felt like you were too close, and your presence was too warm. His hands tightened around the steering wheel, and then your voice came. Soft, teasing, and sweet.

“You don’t talk much when you’re driving, huh?”

His knuckles went white on the wheel. “I’m focused.”

You chuckled. “Focused on not crashing? Or focused on ignoring me?”

His jaw clenched.

God, your voice.

Light and lilting, floating straight into his ears, sitting there like it belonged. It curled around him slowly, teasing the edges of his control. He prayed to every higher being in the sky that the red light wouldn’t last long, or else he’d melt into the driver’s seat. And then you had to go and say it.

“By the way… I know I didn’t ask earlier, but is it okay that I sit here? In the front?”

He nearly choked on air. What was he supposed to say to that? No, please sit at the back so I don’t lose my mind?

“It’s fine,” he muttered under his breath, eyes locked firmly on the road ahead. “You’re my passenger. Of course you sit there.”

But you weren’t just his passenger, you were his soulmate, and you were looking at him like you could see every thought written on his skin.

He was barely holding it together. His grip on the steering wheel never eased. His heart was pounding in a very unsafe rhythm, and he had no idea what expression you were wearing because he didn’t dare glance your way.

Not until you touched him.

It was gentle, a brush of your fingers over his knuckles, maybe meant to comfort him. But the warmth that surged through his entire arm?

The way your touch somehow seeped into his skin and calmed every frantic part of him?

Too much, his heart skipped a beat, and that was when he almost crashed.

“-Shit,” he hissed as the car veered just slightly toward another lane. Someone honked loudly. Seungcheol reacted fast, jerking the steering wheel just enough to swerve back, crossing briefly into an open lane before easing to the side of the road.

He came to a slow, shaky stop. Only then did he realize, he’d been holding his breath. The exhale that left him was heavy, his hands still frozen on the steering wheel. His eyes wide, jaw clenched, adrenaline coursing through him, and beside him, you were giggling. Not just giggling, you were laughing.

He turned his head slowly, lifting one eyebrow in disbelief.

Your laughter only got louder, trying, but failing, to look apologetic as your shoulders shook.

“Y-You almost-” you hiccuped in the middle of your laugh, “-crashed because I touched your hand? Really?”

He should have been mad, or embarrassed. But instead… he found himself smiling, leaning back against his seat as the tension slowly bled out of him.

“You’re dangerous,” he muttered, half amused, half exasperated. “Too dangerous.”

You wiped a tear from the corner of your eye, still breathless. “Sorry! I really didn’t think it’d throw you off that much.”

He clicked his tongue, finally letting out a small laugh of his own. “Don’t touch me when I’m driving, or I might not just almost crash next time.”

You placed a hand over your chest, playfully solemn. “Got it. Hands off the CEO while he’s behind the wheel.”

With a final, lingering look, and a sigh that carried a secret smile, he started the engine again. This time, the drive was calmer, still quiet. But the silence now? Laced with warmth.

— ♬ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ♬ —

The next day, Choi Seungcheol arrived at the office ten minutes earlier than usual. Hair styled neatly, tie perfectly knotted, suit crisp. A plan already mapped in his head.

Today, he told himself, he would not lose focus, he would be composed and professional. Distant, even.

He was a CEO, not some college boy crushing on his lab partner.

And then you walked in. Calm as ever, radiating soft energy like it was stitched into your aura. You greeted everyone with a polite bow, a warm smile that reached your eyes, and when your gaze met his across the hallway, you smiled wider.

He blinked once.

Not today, he reminded himself, adjusting the cuffs of his blazer. Stay sharp, Choi Seungcheol.

You followed behind him into his office, as per usual. You placed your notebook on the desk neatly, your voice as honeyed as it was yesterday. “Good morning, Mr. Choi.”

His heartbeat betrayed him again, but he forced a nod.

“Morning. Let’s begin the schedule,” he said, already opening his laptop to avoid your eyes.

But you weren’t done. You tilted your head slightly, eyes narrowing with playful curiosity. “You slept well after your near-death experience yesterday?”

He stiffened.

You were teasing him, again.

His jaw clenched, and he sighed through his nose. “It wasn’t near-death.”

“It was slightly near,” you said with a soft giggle. “You looked like you were about to write your will in that parking lane.”

He closed his laptop slowly, eyes finally meeting yours. “Are you done?”

You grinned. “Maybe.”

He clicked his pen once, and twice. Trying to stay unbothered and ignore the way your laughter from the day before still echoed in his ears like a favorite song.

“Right,” he muttered, clearing his throat. “Let’s move on to today’s shadowing.”

But you weren’t going to let him off that easily. You had plans. You stayed close, just close enough to keep him aware of your presence, but never inappropriate. You asked thoughtful questions, tilted your head as you listened, eyes always fixed on him with that same soft admiration.

Your voice? Still sweet.

Your tone? Still respectful, but never flat.

He was drowning quietly. And the worst part? He knew you were doing it on purpose.

He tried keeping distance. Told you to observe from the corner during a department discussion. You obeyed, then proceeded to thank him afterward, calling his approach “insightful and clean-cut.”

He told you to grab coffee for a break, hoping you’d step away. You returned ten minutes later with a second cup for him. His favorite, somehow.

He froze when you handed it to him. “How did you know this is what I drink?”

You tilted your head again, the faintest smile playing on your lips. “You mentioned it once. Thought I’d remember.”

He had no words, just sipped silently, while the heat of the coffee failed to cover the warmth spreading in his chest.

By lunch, he was cornered—emotionally, mentally, completely. And then came the final blow.

You peeked into his office again after a quick team session, hands behind your back like a child with a secret. “I finished organizing the files from the budget review. Do you want me to bring them now, Mr. Choi?”

He nodded. “Yes, that’ll do.”

You stepped inside, but instead of placing the files on his desk, you walked closer, slower, and set them gently right beside him, leaning just a bit forward. Then, you whispered, voice like silk, “You're doing great, you know.”

He turned his head so fast it startled even himself.

You stepped back immediately, that same sweet expression never leaving your face. “Just thought someone should tell you.”

He stared at you, absolutely blindsided.

You smiled again. “I’ll get back to my desk now.”

And with that, you turned and walked away, like you hadn’t just sent his heart sprinting through his ribcage.

He leaned back in his chair slowly, dragging a hand over his face, muttering under his breath: “…I’m doomed.”

Per Mr. Shin’s earlier request, Seungcheol knew that as part of your mentorship, you needed to start observing internal meetings, especially the ones that mattered. And this one, definitely mattered.

The conference room was filled with tension the moment it began. You sat beside Seungcheol, with his secretary just one seat away. The opposing company’s team stood at the other end of the long, glass table—well-dressed, well-prepared, and, unfortunately, woefully out of touch.

At first, the presentation was tolerable. Numbers were clean, projections stable, but as soon as they reached the slide titled Strategic Timeline for Implementation, everything changed.

Seungcheol’s eyes narrowed.

The speaker on the opposing side continued confidently, explaining outdated timelines and collaborations with partners Seungcheol had long since flagged as liabilities.

He raised a hand, slowly, but firmly.

“Hold it,” he said.

The speaker paused. Seungcheol gestured toward the screen. “This segment. You need to revise this strategy. We’ve already seen instability in those markets. Collaborating there puts the project at risk.”

The man across the table gave a tight smile. “We understand your concern, Mr. Choi, but altering the current timeline may damage our relationship with the local representatives. A shift might send the wrong message.”

Seungcheol’s expression hardened.

“I said it needs to change.”

The tension escalated. His voice was still level, but underneath it was a warning. You could feel the air grow heavier around the table. The other attendees exchanged subtle glances. His secretary lowered her gaze.

You sat there, watching him. His knuckles were turning white, hand clenched against the table. His shoulders stiff, jaw set, clearly holding back the frustration simmering inside.

Should you do something? You hesitated. You’d never seen him this serious before. This cold. It was a side of him you hadn’t met: CEO Choi in full form. Intimidating, sharp, commanding.

But something in you… moved.

Even if he’s your boss. Even if you’re scared. You didn’t want him to be swallowed by the storm he was holding back.

So, gently—barely noticeable to anyone else—you reached out beneath the table, and touched his knuckles.

The tension left his hand almost instantly. He didn’t flinch, didn’t look at you, but he felt it, and it grounded him.

His eyes flicked back to the presenter. His shoulders lowered slightly. And then—calm, steady, dangerous—he spoke again.

“I said the cons of not changing. If you can’t change,” he began, voice slow and clear, “I can already see your company failing, and dragging mine down with it.”

The room froze.

“So I suggest you change it,” he continued, folding his hands neatly in front of him, “or I’ll stop collaborating with you altogether.”

He leaned forward just slightly, voice dropping a notch.

“It’s not a question. It’s a statement.”

Dead silence followed.

The opposing speaker faltered, swallowed hard, and eventually nodded. “Understood… We’ll revise it.”

Seungcheol nodded once, satisfied. “Good.”

The rest of the meeting passed with no further resistance. Everyone suddenly became a lot more agreeable. When it ended, people stood slowly, gathering their notes and trying to pretend they hadn’t just witnessed the CEO version of a guillotine.

You, meanwhile, were still seated, glancing at him quietly.

As soon as the door shut behind the last guest, Seungcheol leaned back in his chair, letting out a breath. Not loud, but deep. Then he finally looked at you. Not cold, not intimidating, just… aware.

“Thanks,” he muttered, barely above a whisper.

You blinked. “For what?”

He didn’t say anything right away. Just offered a small, dry smile. “For keeping me from flipping the table.”

You giggled softly. “Glad I could stop a potential lawsuit.”

He laughed under his breath, raking a hand through his hair. “You’re sneaky, you know that?”

You tilted your head. “Me? I just touched your hand.”

“Exactly,” he murmured, eyeing you. “That’s the problem.”

The heavy oak doors to the meeting room closed with a muted click, sealing away the tension that had filled the space just moments ago. The silence that followed was a welcome relief, wrapping around the room like a comforting blanket.

Seungcheol remained seated at the head of the table, shoulders finally relaxed, jaw no longer set, but he didn’t move, not yet.

He glanced toward you, and then his gaze dropped to your hands.

They were resting gently in your lap, fingers slightly curled, relaxed. The same hands that had grounded him just minutes earlier with nothing more than a simple touch.

His eyes lingered there longer than he should have and you noticed.

A soft giggle slipped past your lips, making his eyes flicker up to your face in mild panic, but you weren’t teasing. Your smile was warm, as if you already understood what he was thinking without needing him to say it aloud.

You shift your seat closer to his, and without asking, without hesitation, you reached out and gently cupped his hands, both of them.

Your palms were warm. Your grip wasn’t delicate, it was steady and secure, like you weren’t just touching him, you were anchoring him.

He stiffened at first, not used to being handled like that. But when he looked up and met your eyes, something cracked inside him. Something quiet.

You smiled at him again, sweet and sure, and then said with the calmest voice he’d ever heard: “Hold onto mine if you want. I’m always here beside you.”

The words weren’t loud, they weren’t dramatic, but God, did they hit hard. His breath caught somewhere in his throat, his fingers, usually firm and commanding, hesitated, and then slowly, tentatively, curled around yours.

The pressure in his chest eased, the sharp edge of his thoughts dulled, and in its place was only your warmth, quietly settling in his bloodstream, pushing out the last remnants of the anger and disappointment that had clouded him just minutes ago.

It felt dangerous and addictive, but more than anything, it felt right.

He said nothing, still lost in your gaze.

And you? You didn’t ask for anything in return, you simply stood there, smiling as if you had all the time in the world to wait for him to breathe again.

And finally, he did.

“…You’re trouble,” he whispered, lips barely moving.

You laughed, soft and silvery. “You’ve said that before.”

He shook his head slightly. “I meant it even more now.”

But he didn’t let go, not yet.

— ♬ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ♬ —

The day had finally drawn to a close. The last of the lights at the office flickered off, and staff began to disappear one by one. Choi Seungcheol stepped out of the elevator, jacket draped over his arm, briefcase in hand, ready to head home.

That was until his secretary caught him in the lobby.

“Mr. Choi,” she said with a small nod toward you, waiting quietly near the front entrance. “Ms. Y/N doesn’t have a ride.”

He blinked once.

Again?

His eyes drifted toward you. You were scrolling on your phone, humming lightly under your breath, completely unbothered. Just like yesterday.

Suspicious.

You looked up at him at just the right moment, smiling, and all his suspicion melted into a sigh.

“...She’s doing this on purpose,” he mumbled to himself, but louder than he meant to. Still, he nodded toward the car. “Let’s go.”

You fell into step beside him, cheerful and bright even in the evening glow. Once inside the car, you didn’t even hesitate, you walked straight to the passenger seat and slid in smoothly, as if it were your assigned spot.

Seungcheol sat in the driver’s seat, started the engine, and began to drive.

Silence filled the space again, peaceful, but electric in its own way.

He kept his eyes forward, focused, or trying to be. Then your voice—soft, laced with mischief—cut into the quiet.

“Do you want to get late supper?”

The car didn’t swerve this time, but Seungcheol’s grip on the wheel definitely stiffened. He glanced at you briefly.

Late supper? That was not in the schedule.

His routine was sacred. Home, shower, towel-dry hair for two minutes exactly, collapse onto bed, wake up, work, and repeat.

He did not do it spontaneously yet here you were, blinking at him innocently.

At the next red light, he turned his head fully to look at you.

“Late supper?” he repeated, like the phrase was foreign.

You nodded. “I know there are some places still open for people like me.”

People like you? What did that mean? Were you just… casual about life like that? Wandering the streets at midnight, hunting for warm broth and rice with no plan whatsoever?

That was chaos, and dangerous… but oddly tempting. And while his mind absolutely panicked over the idea of shifting his routine by even an inch, his heart was already halfway to the restaurant.

He stared at you. You stared back, innocently and unassuming, completely unaware of the inner breakdown he was having. Or… maybe fully aware.

He sighed heavily, eyes closing for a second. “Key in the address.”

You beamed, tapping in the location into his GPS. He drove through the green light with a defeated grunt. He glanced sideways, catching the teasing glint in your eyes. and for once in his life, he didn’t hate the idea of change.

The city lights shimmered against the night sky, and neon signs flickered above street corners, glowing softly like stars fallen to the ground. The GPS guided Seungcheol through a few narrow turns before slowing to a stop beside a quiet cluster of food stalls tucked between two buildings.

The air was thick with the scent of grilled meat, fried batter, and warm soup broth.

It wasn’t flashy or pristine, it wasn’t anything remotely close to what CEO Choi Seungcheol was used to.

And yet… he was here.

You stepped out of the car with a bright grin, your shoes softly clicking on the pavement. You turned back to face him as he closed the car door slowly, taking in the unfamiliar scene like a foreign landscape.

“First time?” you asked, eyes twinkling under the streetlight.

“…Yeah,” he admitted, adjusting his sleeves. “Very first.”

You giggled, hugging your arms to yourself. “Same. But I wanted to explore, and I figured... food like this probably tastes better when you’re not worried about etiquette.”

He raised an eyebrow, skeptical. “That’s what everyone says before they get food poisoning.”

You shot him a mock glare. “You’re such a corporate man.”

“And you’re reckless,” he muttered, but followed you anyway.

You led him to one of the stalls with a steaming pot of tteokbokki, skewers glistening beside it. The ahjumma running the stall gave you a kind smile and gestured for you to sit.

The two of you took seats on worn plastic stools under a flickering lightbulb, the table in front of you scratched with time, marked with memories. And somehow, to Seungcheol, it felt weirdly peaceful.

You handed him a pair of chopsticks and smiled. “Let’s try not to act like we just left a board meeting.”

Seungcheol stared down at the food. No plated silverware, no polished wine glasses, just bubbling spicy sauce and steam against the cool air.

It was chaotic and… warm.

He picked up a piece of rice cake, blew on it once, then tasted it. His eyebrows rose.

“...That’s not bad.”

You laughed. “Not bad? That’s it? That’s your review?”

He nodded, eyes focused on the next bite. “Spicy. A little sweet. Soft texture. Good balance.”

“God,” you groaned, “you’re reviewing it like a Michelin judge.”

“You invited a CEO. What did you expect?”

You laughed again, and the sound danced through the night air, making his chest feel far lighter than it had all day.

As you both ate, conversation flowed more freely. You talked about small things: food preferences, random bucket list items, silly high school moments. Seungcheol found himself leaning forward more, laughing softly, even forgetting to check the time.

He didn’t even realize how relaxed he looked. Tie loosened, sleeves rolled up, chopsticks clumsily trying to balance a fish cake skewer.

At one point, you handed him a tissue as he dabbed the edge of his mouth, cheeks slightly red from the heat of the spice.

“Next time,” you said between bites, “we should try grilled skewers by the river. I heard they open till 3AM.”

He stared at you.

Next time?

A part of him panicked again, knowing this was starting to become a habit. But the other part? The one quietly folding inside his chest, heartbeat slow and warm? That part didn’t mind at all.

After the last bite was eaten and the food stall cleared, you both stood up from your stools, stomachs full and spirits even fuller. You reached into your bag for your wallet, already fishing out a few bills to pay, but before you could even lift your hand to the stall owner, Seungcheol moved faster. With practiced ease, he gently pushed your hand aside—not harshly, but firm enough to make you blink in surprise—and handed over the exact cash to the ahjumma behind the stall.

He didn’t even look at you as he accepted the change with a polite nod.

You, on the other hand, were left blinking in quiet disbelief.

No words were exchanged in that moment.

The two of you returned to the car under the soft night sky, sliding into your seats once again. The car’s interior greeted you with its usual scent, clean leather and something that faintly smelled like cedarwood and coffee. As the engine rumbled to life, you turned your head toward him, curious.

“How did you have cash money in you?”

He glanced sideways, one hand on the wheel, the other adjusting the air conditioning. His lips curled into a lazy smile.

“I’m not always a card guy, okay?”

You let out a playful scoff. “Right. A card and cash money guy who doesn’t know how to relax.”

That made him laugh this time, a sound that was deep and rich and a little too attractive for your heart to handle. But it didn’t stop there.

He turned to say something else, only to realize you hadn’t buckled in yet. His eyes lowered to the strap by your side, then back at you.

“Seatbelt,” he muttered softly, but instead of waiting for you to fix it, he leaned in.

You froze.

The air felt thinner suddenly.

Seungcheol reached across you, one arm brushing past your shoulder, fingers catching the seatbelt smoothly as he clicked it into place. His scent surrounded you, something expensive and warm. He didn’t notice how close he was. He didn’t see the way your breath hitched, or how your lashes fluttered like they were trying to compose themselves.

To him, it was just another responsible act.

To you? It was too close. Too sudden and overwhelming.

He leaned back into his seat like nothing happened, shot you a relaxed smile as his hand returned to the wheel.

“Ready to head back?” he asked, as if your heart wasn’t thundering like a drum in your ears.

You stared at him for a moment longer, lips parting, unsure if you should thank him or scream internally. But eventually, you just gave a small nod, tucking your hands on your lap.

“Yeah…” you said quietly. “Ready.”

— ♬ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ♬ —

The morning sun seeped gently through the sheer curtains of Seungcheol’s penthouse, casting warm light across his pristine walk-in closet. Rows of crisp shirts, tailored blazers, perfectly ironed trousers, and a curated collection of designer watches lined the walls like an exhibition.

He stood in front of the full-length mirror, a clean white shirt buttoned to the collar, his charcoal grey blazer slung loosely over one arm. His hair was still slightly damp, falling in soft waves over his forehead.

And yet, he frowned.

Something was… off.

His hands moved on their own, slipping off the blazer and replacing it with a navy one. He buttoned the cuffs, stared into the mirror and tilted his head.

No, too stiff.

He tried again. Swapped the navy for a muted sand-colored jacket, loosened the collar slightly, and he looked at himself.

Too soft.

A sigh escaped his lips. “This is ridiculous,” he muttered to himself, running a hand through his hair.

There was no event today, no company gala, no board of directors flying in from overseas. It was just a regular day at work. But then again… you would be there.

That alone was enough to make his entire closet suddenly feel insufficient.

He wasn’t even sure when it started, this strange habit of wanting to look just a little better each morning, starting from today. All he knew was that your eyes, so bright and attentive, always lingered a little longer than necessary. And the way you smiled at him, as if he was someone worth admiring…

He wanted to live up to that look.

He tried on three different watches before settling on a Piaget brand Polo Date watch. Switched out his usual thin-framed glasses for a bolder pair. Dabbed on a Creed brand cologne. Then he stood back, observing himself fully.

Blazer sharp, tie slightly loosened, hair perfectly imperfect, and a hint of confidence in his smirk, just enough to keep him grounded. Still, he chuckled under his breath, shaking his head.

“Choi Seungcheol...”

But he didn’t change.

With one last glance in the mirror and a small breath to steady the fluttering inside his chest, he grabbed his keys and headed out.

The automatic doors of the building slid open with a soft whoosh, letting in a gentle gust of morning air. Seungcheol stepped into the familiar lobby, polished floors reflecting the low sunlight spilling through the glass walls. The day had just begun. Staff were slowly trickling in, exchanging greetings and organizing the day’s start.

And then he saw you, standing near the entrance, chatting lightly with the front desk assistant, smiling just enough to make time slow down.

You looked simple—fresh-faced, your hair styled neatly, blouse tucked into a modest skirt—but to Seungcheol, you were breathtaking.

Maybe it was the light hitting you just right, or the soft sound of your laugh, or maybe, it was just you being you. Whatever it was, he was gone the moment your eyes lifted to meet his.

You turned fully toward him, a little surprise in your gaze, followed quickly by something warmer, something curious as your eyes slowly drifted from his face to… his clothes.

You blinked once, and then twice before your lips curled up knowingly.

“Oh?” you said with an arch of your brow, arms crossing lightly over your chest. “New look today, Mr. Choi?”

He tried to act unaffected, adjusting the strap of his watch as if it wasn’t planned, as if he hadn’t spent twenty minutes debating between jackets this morning.

“I just picked whatever was clean,” he said flatly.

You giggled softly, stepping closer, eyes never leaving his figure.

“Well, whatever was clean looks really, really good today.”

He froze, not obviously, but just enough for his breath to catch for half a second.

You looked back up at his face, tilting your head, clearly amused at how his ears turned ever so slightly pink.

“Are you blushing?”

“I’m not,” he deadpanned.

“You are.”

“Y/N,” he warned lightly, though the corners of his lips gave away the smile threatening to break free.

You stepped beside him, walking toward the elevator as he followed. “You know,” you said, glancing at him sideways, “if dressing up makes you this charming in the morning, I might start asking you to do it more often.”

He scoffed gently, pressing the elevator button. “Don’t get used to it.”

“But you did it for me, didn’t you?” you teased, voice low and sweet.

The elevator dinged, and he walked in without responding. You followed closely behind, the space inside suddenly smaller than you remembered. He stood beside you, hands in his pockets, looking straight ahead. You looked up at him with a soft smile. You already knew the answer. And when he caught your reflection in the elevator door, still staring at him with that quiet affection, you saw it: that small smile, breaking through.

The morning had passed quietly. Well, as quiet as it could be when your mentor happened to be the CEO and also your soulmate.

You sat at your desk just outside Seungcheol’s office, sorting through case studies he had handed you earlier. You were almost done highlighting key points when your phone buzzed softly beside your notebook.

It was a message from your mother.

《Mom: Your father and I were wondering if Seungcheol is free for lunch today. Just something casual. We’d love to see the two of you together. I made a reservation already, just in case.》

Your eyes widened slightly at the abruptness. You sighed softly. Of course your mom didn’t wait for confirmation before booking a spot. After re-reading it twice, you got up from your desk, lightly knocking on Seungcheol’s office door before pushing it open.

He was standing by the floor-to-ceiling windows, his blazer draped over his chair, sleeves rolled up as he reviewed a report. He glanced over his shoulder at the sound of your knock.

“Yes?”

You stepped in, holding up your phone. “My parents messaged. They want to have lunch with you today. Apparently they already made a reservation.”

He turned fully to face you, eyebrows raised ever so slightly. “Today?”

You nodded, showing him the text.

He didn’t react much on the surface, but you could tell he wasn’t the type who took surprises well. Still, his expression remained composed, only betraying a flicker of hesitation before he walked back to his desk and pressed a button on his intercom.

“Cancel the team check-in for 1PM. And block a lunch schedule under the Shin family.”

“Understood,” his secretary replied promptly.

He turned to you, expression unreadable but his tone even.

“I assume they picked a restaurant already?”

You nodded. “They did. I’ll send you the location.”

He gave a slow blink, then looked down at the stack of work on his desk, clearly adjusting his internal clock again.

You smiled faintly. “You don’t have to look so serious. It’s not a shareholders meeting.”

He gave a short sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. “You’ve met your parents, right? Do they seem like the type to keep things ‘casual’?”

You laughed. “Touché.”

He watched you quietly for a moment, eyes softening. “Are you nervous?”

You paused. “…Maybe a little.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re… you,” you said honestly. “And I know how much they respect you, likewise to you.”

He held your gaze a beat longer, before his lips curved, just slightly. “You make it sound like I’m meeting them for the first time.” then he cleared his throat and reached for his watch.

“I’ll pick you up from your desk at twelve-thirty.”

You nodded, turning to leave, but not before tossing him a cheeky smile over your shoulder.

“You better dress handsomely again, Mr. Choi.”

The only reply you got was the sound of a pen clicking behind you, and a quiet, amused exhale.

— ♬ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ♬ —

The restaurant was elegantly quiet, the kind of place where even the clink of silverware was softened by velvet-covered walls and subtle classical music. The hostess led you and Seungcheol to a private room, where your parents were already seated. Your mother in her pearls, your father sharp in a navy suit, as dignified as ever.

“Seungcheol,” your father greeted first, standing to shake his hand. Seungcheol gave a slight bow, professional but respectful.

“It’s a pleasure to see you again, Mr Shin.”

“Likewise. Please, sit.”

You quietly slipped into the seat beside Seungcheol, across from your parents, your hands folded politely on your lap.

The first few minutes were expected. Business as usual. Your father inquired about company expansion, potential collaborations, the trajectory of your training under Seungcheol’s wing. You listened attentively, occasionally stealing glances at your mentor, who answered every question with calm poise and clean, articulate responses.

It was going perfectly. Then the food arrived, and with it, your mother’s sudden ambush.

“So,” she said lightly, reaching for her soup spoon. “How is my daughter in your company?”

Seungcheol dabbed his lips with a napkin before answering.

“She’s attentive. Observant. Quick to adapt. Not many would have the initiative she’s shown in just a few days.”

You blinked, warmth blooming in your chest. The compliment made you sit just a little straighter. But your mother wasn't finished.

“And how is she…” she said, stirring her soup slowly, “…as your soulmate?”

The spoon Seungcheol had just brought to his mouth halted halfway. Then-

Choke.

Not a polite cough or a dignified clear of the throat, no. A full-on choke. You nearly dropped your own spoon as you rushed to grab his glass of water and held it out to him with both hands. He took it immediately, eyes watering as he tried to recover, sipping fast, gulping once, then twice.

“M-Mom!” you cried, cheeks flushing. “Seriously?!”

Across the table, your mother wore the most innocent smile imaginable. “What? I’m just curious.”

Your father turned to her slowly, eyebrows raised. “Soulmates?”

Your mother nodded, sipping calmly from her tea. “I noticed at the masquerade party. They were staring at each other for far too long. I had a feeling something happened. So I made a few… connections.”

You and Seungcheol froze.

Her eyes flicked between the two of you. Him still trying to swallow down the last of his panic, and you patting his back while staring wide-eyed at her like she’d just exposed your deepest secret.

Then she tilted her head. “Am I wrong?”

Silence.

You opened your mouth, then closed it again. You were too stunned to deny it. Beside you, Seungcheol finally lowered the glass, setting it down slowly on the table.

But he didn’t look up. Not at your mother, and especially not at your father.

His fingers curled slightly in his lap.

You could see the gears in his head… what would they think? A man ten years their daughter, their trusted work partner… now tied to her by something unbreakable, fated.

He was terrified of your father’s judgment, terrified of how this would change everything.

You saw it all in the way his shoulders tensed, and how his eyes remained fixed on the tablecloth. For a moment, the air was still. Then your father set down his spoon with a soft clink and leaned back in his seat.

“…Choi Seungcheol,” he said.

Seungcheol immediately straightened in his chair, gaze still lowered. “Yes, sir.”

Your father’s voice was unreadable. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Seungcheol hesitated. “…Because I didn’t want to risk complicating anything. With your daughter… or with you.”

Your mother looked between the two men, eyes narrowing slightly. You bit your bottom lip, and your father was quiet again. Then, after a moment that stretched painfully long, he spoke.

“…You’re an honorable man, Seungcheol.” Both you and Seungcheol blinked. Your father continued. “I’ve known that since the first time you sat across from me in a boardroom. That hasn’t changed. But now…” He looked directly at Seungcheol. “That honor means something more. It means you’ll protect her.”

Seungcheol finally looked up, stunned.

Your father gave a small nod. “You didn’t choose this, neither did she. But if fate tied you together, then all I ask is that you treat her well, not as your intern, not as your subordinate, but as your equal.”

You stared at your father, lips parted in surprise. And beside you, you heard the breath Seungcheol finally let out. Quiet, shaky, and filled with quiet relief.

“…I will,” he said, voice low but clear. “I promise you. I’ll protect her, sir.”

Your father nodded again, then returned to his soup like he hadn’t just shaken the tension off the entire table. Your mother, watching everything with that quiet knowing glint in her eyes, simply smirked behind her teacup.

“Well,” she said, “now that that’s out of the way, let’s enjoy lunch properly.”

The quiet click of the car doors closing echoed softly in the air, muffled only by the cocoon of silence surrounding the two of you. The engine remained untouched. Seungcheol sat in the driver’s seat, his hands resting lightly on the wheel, gaze fixed on the windshield.

But he wasn’t seeing the road.

He was reliving the moment, the conversation over lunch, the weight of your father’s words, the softness in your mother’s knowing smile. He had braced himself for resistance, for disapproval, for that slight pause before your father might say “But she’s still too young.” Instead, what he got… was a blessing. Permission to be selfish with his heart, to love you out loud.

He swallowed hard, feeling the words echo in his chest like they had carved out space just for you. You didn’t choose this, but if fate tied you together... treat her as your equal.

And god, he would.

He would treat you like a queen. He’d spoil you relentlessly, shamelessly. He’d plan every date to perfection. He’d get you that charm bracelet you’d once said you liked, and for every monsary you celebrated together, he’d add a charm. One for each memory.

The pressure of restraint melted off his shoulders like winter snow beneath the sun. And in its place, something even warmer bloomed: freedom. Freedom to love you.

And so, without starting the car, without breaking the moment, he turned his head, and saw you already watching him.

Lovingly. Softly.

As if your gaze could read the chaos of emotions unraveling in his chest.

You smiled, a small, sweet curl of your lips. “Hi,” you whispered.

That single word, just one syllable, was enough to make his head spin.

He laughed. A real one. Not the tight-lipped CEO chuckle he gave in meetings, no. This one was open, light, carefree. His teeth showed, his eyes crinkled, and you, caught in his joy, joined him with a soft chuckle of your own.

Then the laughter faded into something quieter, heavier, something that made the air between you two spark.

His gaze dropped to your lips, then back to your eyes.

“Mind if I do something,” he said slowly, voice low and a little breathless, “that’s normal for a thirty-year-old me... but might be embarrassing for you?”

You blinked once, head tilted like a curious kitten, but you nodded, without hesitation. And with that, he leaned in.

One hand lifted, fingers brushing past your hair to cradle the back of your head gently. His touch was steady and certain, like he had waited long enough.

And then, he kissed you soft and warm, eyes closed. No rush, no pressure, just him letting everything he had been holding in for days spill into that single, quiet kiss.

You melted against him almost instinctively, lips moving in sync with his—tender, slow, meaningful.

And in that kiss, Seungcheol thought: so this is what peace tastes like, this is what fate feels like.

When he finally pulled back, your foreheads brushed, breaths mixing in the small space between. You opened your eyes slowly, cheeks flushed, lips parted. His voice was barely above a whisper, but it trembled with something sincere.

“I’ve been waiting to do that since the masquerade.”

— ♬ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ♬ —

The hum of conversation filled the large, sunlit private room in one of the most exclusive restaurants in the city. Laughter echoed off the walls, glasses clinked, and the smell of food already filled the air, even though not everyone had arrived yet.

The door creaked open, and in walked Seungcheol, dressed in a sleek black shirt, sleeves rolled just enough to show his watch and veins. Beside him, you entered quietly, but not subtly, your fingers gently laced with his.

Heads turned, every conversation stopped. Then-

“Woooooahhhh- what do we have here?!”

“Wait, is that her?!”

“Cheol brought someone?! Willingly?!”

A wave of chaotic excitement crashed over the room as all of Seungcheol’s friends—his closest circle, the ones he called his brothers—immediately swarmed you with bright eyes and louder voices. Mingyu clapped Seungcheol on the back so hard he nearly stumbled. Soonyoung practically bounced on his heels. Seokmin gave you the biggest, warmest grin.

They were chaos, but they were warm.

You didn’t even have time to respond before Jeonghan looped an arm around your shoulders like you were already part of the family.

“So you’re the one who melted our stone-faced CEO, huh?” he teased, eyes glinting. “God, we’ve been hearing about you without even hearing your name. It’s an honor.”

Seungcheol rolled his eyes but let out a small, amused chuckle as everyone finally settled into their seats.

The chaos didn’t stop there, though. Once the appetizers were cleared and laughter quieted to occasional giggles between sips of wine, Jeonghan leaned forward with a grin that screamed mischief.

“You know what’s crazy?” he said, pointing a lazy finger at Seungcheol. “This guy’s been dating her for two years and still didn’t bag her. Me? I dated my soulmate for three months. Three. Months. I couldn't bear waiting. A father now, remember those past times?” He flashed his ring proudly.

The others chuckled, some shaking their heads, others rolling their eyes at Jeonghan’s dramatics, even Seungcheol cracked a wide grin. But he didn’t say anything, not yet, because the best part hadn’t come.

After the main course, when desserts were being served and the wine glasses were half-full, Seungcheol stood up slowly, lifting his glass.

“I have two pieces of news,” he said, his voice calm but his smile soft.

Everyone quieted, eyes turned.

He looked at you briefly, then back at the group. “First- Y/N will be officially stepping in as CEO of her father’s company starting this year.”

A round of cheers, whistles, and applause erupted from the table.

“Yah! That’s huge!”

“A power couple, oh my god.”

“Don’t forget us little people when you both own half the country!”

You bashfully lowered your gaze, cheeks warm, mouthing a soft thank you as Seungcheol gently placed a hand on your back.

“And the second piece of news…” he continued, pausing for dramatic effect, “-is that she said yes.”

Silence with confused blinks, then-

“Wait- wait- WAIT- WHAT?!”

“SAID YES TO WHAT?!”

“Oh my GOD!”

“You’re LYING!”

The table exploded.

Mingyu stood up so fast he nearly knocked over his chair. Soonyoung dropped his fork. Jeonghan’s jaw dropped open like something out of a drama. Seungcheol just smirked, then gently reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, velvet box. He didn’t even need to open it. The moment the box was visible, the screaming got worse.

You held up your hand, heart racing, showing the sparkling ring on your finger with a small smile.

“I’m his fiancée,” you said, voice shy but filled with certainty.

“No. Freaking. Way.”

“Since WHEN?!”

“DID YOU DO IT AT WORK?! Was it a boardroom proposal?! TELL ME EVERYTHING!”

The group erupted again, voices overlapping, hands reaching for the ring, while Seungcheol calmly sat down next to you, sipping his drink like he hadn’t just broken the minds of every single person at the table. And in the midst of all the shouting and disbelief, he leaned in close to whisper just for you to hear: “You're mine now. Officially.”

Your heart fluttered. And in the chaos of friends and laughter, you never felt more sure. Of him. Of you. Of forever.

Tagging: @stvrrylove @sol3chu @firstclassjaylee @ateez-atiny380 @reiofsuns2001 @thetjtales @metaphorandmoonlight

585 notes · View notes

twstfanblog · 2 months ago

Text

*~Period Drama~* Friday

A/N: It's here, the finale! Thank you all for coming on this trip with me. Time to focus on my other projects. Another BIG THANK YOU to @bun-lapin for allowing me to use her fun OC's. WordCount: 11.3K Warnings: Brief Mentions of Roe V Wade, One Instance of Vomiting, She/They OC Pronouns Start, Saturday (Octavinelle), Sunday (Heartslabyul), Monday (Savanaclaw), Monday pt2 (Diasomnia pt.1), Tuesday (Diasomnia pt2), Wednesday (Pomefiore), Thursday (Scarabia), Friday (Here)

~Taglist~

@twistedcece @deltrea @krenenbaker @koebishrimpuwu @cat100200 @emyluwinter @obsessionswithfandoms @ady-hilborn @lucid-stories @girl-nahh-two @itz-hydrodeptus-foxy7 @chyluna @riddlesimps @death-the-jo @a-twistedheartslonging @qixlin @chaosistheonlyway @welcome-to-my-horde @abell2029cluster @kirans-wonderland @coffee-or-hot-cocoa @the-ace-reader @iamsoconfusedallofthetime @chroniccorvus @marvelous-maxi @prolonged-eyecontact @lozplayer @jabberwocky-warrior @thateldribitch @bun-lapin @mel1rose @ladyraeka @ladyzsgolla @kimdourden @noncreativepage-blog @girl-nahh-two @shironakuronatasa @colombia-chan @roseapov @anunholyabomination @koebi-channnn @noises-of-nothing @creatorbiaze

Ignihyde had no actual business looking the way it did. Even Diasomnia in its full gothic structure wasn't as shit-brick-inducing as the horrifying image the Hades dorm gave. Yuu gave a small, awkward nod to each glowing-eyed skeleton they passed on the stairway. Feeling the internal pull to acknowledge them even though Ortho and Idia had said they were nothing more than decorations multiple times. The very fact they had eyes was more than enough to make Yuu give them a sense of personhood.

The inside was somehow better and worse. While it didn't share the same aesthetic of the outside — damned souls chic — the stark white furniture and structures made the dorm feel like an Apple store. The neon blue light screens everywhere did nothing to change her stance. They could only wonder how fucked the sleep schedules of Ignihyde students were as a whole.

“Oh. What have we here?”

Turning, Yuu nodded in greeting to the man walking closer. “Hi, Mr. Rohdri. Idia called me over for a research thing.”

Eldric Rohdri wasn't a teacher Yuu really saw let alone interacted with. The teacher taught fairly basic classes but everyone on campus knew the only reason he even came to NRC was to teach the technomancy classes. Yuu had learned she was — as Trein referred to it — ‘terrifyingly’ good at hand-crafted magic circles. The skill was only half the equation in technomancy, though. The other half being an actual knowledge of technology. Something Yuu had no will to learn past being able to torrent movies and keyboard shortcuts. As such, she had little reason to talk or meet with the professor outside of staff meetings. Though Crewel had stated the man was almost adorably talkative at times.

The eye-patched man tilts his head, an eyebrow barely twitching, “A meeting…with Idia…in the flesh?”

“I know, weird, right?”

Sighing, Eldric turned his attention back to his light screen tablet and tapped at the screen, “You know, I took this position as dorm advisor because I assumed the Ignihyde lot didn't…socialize…”

“I mean.” Yuu shrugged, a smirk on her lips as she looked off to the side, “In all honesty, what I do is just bullying.”

“True. I haven't had so many maintenance tickets for cracked STYX-pads since the Shroud family backed the funding to ensure every Ignihyde student would have one.”

“I like to think it keeps them on their toes. Teach them to have strong grips, ya know?”

“No, the data shows it just gives them anxiety.” Eldric still hadn't looked up from his tablet, tapping at it in a continuous pace, “But, they normally come with that anyway. So no real harm, I suppose. This talk was…it was a talk. I must be on my way so I will make this quick.”

“Make what quick-” Yuu jumped back, eyes wide as a wall panel beside them opened to multiple mechanical arms and tools reaching out.

Yuu tried to step away, only for one arm to grip them by the bicep and hold them still. In a flurry of movement, tools poked and picked at her, one had even swabbed the inside of her cheek. Multiple lights flashed in their face, realizing as a soft-tipped arm held her eye open that they were being scanned. Once all the tests and samples seemed to be taken, the arms and tools had retreated back into the wall, a single arm staying out to offer a bright-blue sucker.

Eldric patted Yuu on the head before walking away, “Good job. Crewel should be alerted to my findings should anything concerning be found.”

“...” Yuu looked over their shoulder, hair now a mess and clothing vaguely disheveled. Scoffing under their breath, they glare at the mechanical arm holding out the sucker. The machine seemed to sense their eyes and offered it closer to them.

“...” They snatch the sucker from the machine, grumbling as they put it in their mouth and making their way toward Idia’s room. But when the door opened, they mood instantly lifted.

“Prefect Yuu! It's so nice to see you again!” Ortho greeted them, the other Freshmen quickly wrapping his arms around them and pulling them into the room.

“Oh my god! Ortho, you're alive!” Yuu hugged back, laughing at the confused expression Ortho gave once they both released the other.

“Why would I have expired…? Ah! You must have been worried because of the virus I contracted.”

“...” Yuu briefly met eyes with Idia, the third-year quickly shaking his head with the strongest glare he could muster. Looking back at Ortho they nod, “Yeah. I was real concerned about ya, buddy.”

With a giggle, Ortho walked (Floated?) with them closer to Idia’s setup, “Nii-san was able to hard reboot my memory to the day before I got the virus. He said it took so long because I was unresponsive and he isn't able to edit my software of his own accord anymore. Unfortunately, other than the blood samples, I did lose whatever data I collected on Saturday. So I'll be joining you and Nii-san today to learn more about your ailment.”

“That's…so good. You're gonna be ok though right? The…the virus won't affect you again?”

“Unlikely. If Nii-san ever encounters a new virus form, it only takes him a few hours to figure out how it works and how to counter it. I'm now fully protected from all forms of cyber attacks once again!”

“Wonderful…” Yuu fully turned to Idia, kneeing the back of his chair to make the Junior justle in his seat, “Sup, shit rat?”

“Can you be nice to me…for once? At all?”

“Yeah, but I won't.”

Ortho perked up, brows furrowed down but no real anger in his voice as he yelled, “Prefect Yuu! Please be kind to my brother!”

“Of course, anything for you, Ortho.” Yuu leans over, pressing a kiss to Ortho's forehead before looking back to Idia, “Sup, rat?”

Idia scowled, narrowing his eyes, “How is you still calling me a rat nicer?”

“I mean, you're still a little rat.”

Turning back to his screen, Idia’s scowl turned into a pout and he mumbled under his breath, “Ok, the quicker we do this, the quicker you get out of my face…”

Bony fingers clicked against mechanical keys, easing the room into the ASMR sounds while Idia pulled up multiple search tabs to type in the most basic questions he could think of regarding the ‘Refresh Cycle’.

Ortho hummed, tilting his head and already forming one of his hands into a syringe, “Prefect Yuu, may I have another blood sample? Since Jade Leech made me privy to you experiencing hormonal changes, I'd like to compare a new sample with the one I collected on Saturday.”

Holding out her arm, Yuu watched as Idia finished gathering all of his resources, “Go for it, buddy.” They barely felt the pinch as Ortho drew their blood, managing to kick at Idia’s chair without moving their arm in his grasp, “So what are we doing?”

“Level 0 tutorial on the ‘Magic Circulation System’ and the ‘Refresh Cycle’. Most health classes are in middle school and after looking over your class schedule, I noticed you don't have a biology subject in any of your academic roadmaps…”

“Yeah, I don't really care for the sciences…”

“Well, you should. So before we get grinding on your weird, alien blood ritual, we're gonna go over the home server basics.”

“Keep fuckin’ talkin’. I can and will break your nose again.”

“Anyway…” Idia pulled up a screen, pointing to it as he spoke, “The Inner Magical System, or the more medically accepted term, Magical Circulation System is the system that regulates the movement of magic through the body. The system isn’t studied as much as we'd want. Observing living subjects has only given us the information that the MCS is normally one-for-one with the body's vascular and nervous system…”

He clicked over to another page displaying a diagram that reminded Yuu of the photos Crewel had shown them nearly a week ago.

“The pathways of MCS are able to fluctuate which is how we were able to notice them once technology advanced enough to be able to view magic on scans. While everyone in Twisted Wonderland all have an MCS, mages’ MCS pathways are noticeably thicker and have more branch-off points. This difference is the current theory on why mages are able to cast magic and the average npc isn't.”

“How the fuck is this a theory? Do you guys know or not?” Yuu glanced at the bandages Ortho had excitedly presented to her, picking out one with a teary-eyed pomegranate.

Idia sighed, pulling up a new tab, “The MCS isn't easy to study. It's still only a theory that there are actual physical pathways. Seeing how in post-mortem, subjects’ MCS rapidly decay. Not to mention since it's interwoven with other systems…” Idia looked at the image of what doctors and various researchers had deemed a healthy MCS reading, “Magic isn't easily studied either; it's everywhere, but it can be dangerous to or easily disrupted by outside forces. Which is why every approved study is a long trial-and-error process…”

Yuu tilted their head to lean against Idia’s shoulder, ignoring the Junior trying to wiggle his body away from them, “Isn't your family's whole thing the shadow government study of magic and aggressive kidnapping?”

Ortho giggles, taking space on Idia’s other shoulder as he pointed to other displays on the screen, “STYX's main field of study is Blot-related magics studies and aggressive kidnapping. Though, in recent years, mom has been making impressive strides in all manners of scientific fields…”

“Your mom is great; I think if she came out with a microchip you put in your brain, I'd trust it.”

“Prefect Yuu, what would the microchip do? Oh! Would it be a new way to watch videos and call friends?”

“Ortho, please. Don't tell mom about that. She might actually get started on it. But, back on subject. We don't know a lot on MCS still but we seem to at least have discovered the basics.”

Idia clicks over to a new window, a lineup of bodies on the screen as he continued, “Compared to other species of Twisted Wonderland, humans have the most constant but ‘weaker’ structure compared to the others. Overall, a good starter base model if we were picking mains…Beastmen and Merfolk vary in variety. Because of their biology and the general fact Merfolk have the option to commute between land and sea, their MCS are more flexible. It's also been studied that due to this — should their systems be damaged — they have a higher healing rate and are less likely to have lasting damage.”

Ortho pointed to the last example, while the other three were clearly outlines of adults the last was the vague shape of an adult, “Fae MCS are the least studied both from most Fae not wanting to participate and also their readings overloading the scanners.”

Idia nods, “Fae MCS nearly overlaps every last internal system they have. For a Fae to lose or damage their MCS is basically inciting total organ failure. But back to what we're supposed to be focusing on, the Refresh Cycle.”

More clicking and Idia shows a page with a prominent photo of a uterus diagram, “The Refresh Cycle is a specific process where a uterus draws in the body's magic to replenish the lining. The process is taxing on the individual leading to bodily fatigue, cravings, and mood swings. It only lasts a day or rarely two. Should it last longer, it's highly recommended you speak to a doctor.”

“Fucking whores…” Yuu glared at the screen, scowling as they muttered under their breath.

Ortho perked up, “Oh! Nii-San did more research at my request on Saturday, once I was alerted that you were not assaulted. It turns out this has been documented in history. The only figures that matched your timeline and symptoms were the Queen of Hearts and her two daughters. Though, such reports decreased over the years, only popping up briefly for the next generation before never being reported again in the bloodlines.”

“It caused just as much panic as your splash out did.” Idia clicked on an article titled ‘The Queen of Hearts and her Bloody Mystery’, “I'll send this to you to read over.”

“Thanks…So, bloody pussy isn’t a natural thing here, huh?”

Both Ortho and Idia cringe, the Junior looking away to search for the proper cable for their next steps, “Not unless it's a really rough birth or…you know, assault. It doesn't last long, no way as long as seven days…hand me your phone.”

“Yep.”

Yuu’s smartphone was an object of interest to Idia, ever since she first came into his room asking for his help on properly connecting it to their new school-issued tablet. Idia could only theorize at the spell graft that was affecting the phone to give it the ability to transcend through dimensions. A mystery he was willing to let fester seeing how misaligning a single part of the — no doubt cosmically complex — spell graft, the phone could be rendered completely useless. Or even explode. He wasn't entirely sure which was most likely…

In the end, all he could do was write up his own graft to act as a free-for-all access point. Attaching it to a few USB cords fixed the problem of universal connection, no matter how terrifying the combo made him feel with it in Yuu's hands.

The group all stood in silence, watching an instant flash of runes and elemental symbols glitch across the screen before settling on the Google homepage.

Yuu smiled, “Aw. The homepage is cute today. Idia, take a screenshot.”

He did as he was asked, mumbling under his breath about Google being a dumb name. He poised his hands over his keyboard only to freeze. He looked at Yuu from the side of his eyes, “Um…what am I searching up?”

Ortho hummed, “Well. It's best to just ask, isn't it? A simple ‘What is a period?’ should give us the answers we seek…”

And it did. In the most basic of terms, a period was the shedding of the uterus lining should the egg not be fertilized by a sperm.

Yuu hummed, “Yeah, pussy pee-” she suddenly choked, glancing at Ortho in worry before looking back at the screen, “Vaginal wallpaper replacement.”

“...” Ortho creased his brows, glancing at Yuu from the corner of his eyes, “You are aware the ‘vagina’ is…not the correct term, aren't you?”

Idia spoke up, glancing at Yuu in mild judgment, “Yeah. Riddle and Jade asked me about that. From the first scans, we share the same hardware biology-wise. But like…you don't seem to know any real terms-”

“Oh my fucking GOD. Shut up. I know, ok? The vagina is multiple parts and all that bullshit. It's just easier to call it all the vagina, get off my dick.”

“That's not convincing me you know the names of your reproductive parts, Prefect Yuu…”

“Fuck you guys.”

“Hmmm…but…why does it remove itself? Wouldn't it stay inside? Instead of shedding, shouldn’t it simply heal if there’s damage?” Ortho tilts his head, a lightscreen projecting from his hand, “Maybe it works in the way scar tissue does…? But, if that were true, then removal is the best course of action…” Ortho looked up from his tablet, raising an eyebrow to Yuu, “Do you have any more information on the process, Prefect Yuu? Past test results have shown a hormonal difference from last week to this point.”

“I don’t fucking know.”

Idia frowned, glaring at Yuu, “This is your fucking body. How do you not know how shit works?”

“I've told you guys. The healthcare of my home nation is basically be rich or die. And even if you are rich, they may still let you die.”

“Prefect Yuu, that's so comically evil, I can only think it's a lie. But, if that's true then you should be even more conscious about your health!”

“Too expensive. My family just picked to be lucky and hope we don't get sick and die.”

Idia gestured to the screen, the multiple links on the page to show just how ‘researched’ their mysterious ailment was, “You literally have a smartphone capable of searching for this shit on your own time!? How do you not know anything past the literal bare bones!?”

Yuu glared at Idia, jabbing their finger hard into his chest and making the third-year wince, “Fuck you! If a NASA worker doesn't know all the facts about a period, then I get a fucking pass!”

“What is NASA!?”

“It's the fucking space people- hold on.” Yuu elbowed Idia, sending him rolling off to the side as they took over the keyboard, “There's a fucking song about it.”

“You have real aliens?” Ortho looked at the screen in wonder, “Is Sally Ride the alien's name?”

Yuu smiled, clicking a YouTube video, “No, Ortho. She was an astronaut. She went to space.”

“You can send people into space!?”

Idia rolled back to the two, pouting as he grumbled, “Your country's sent people to space, but you don't know how a period works-”

“Shut up and listen to the fucking song.”

Luckily, the video seemed to be short. Both of them prepped to take the information with a grain of salt, seeing how the channel name was ‘Comedy Central’.

Remember when NASA sent a woman to space, for only six days, and they gave her…

100 tampons~

…

And asked, “Will that be enough?”

Idia nor Ortho were sure if it was or wasn't in reality either. But by the crowd's reaction of immediate laughter, it clearly was not. Idia turned to Yuu, opening his mouth to ask if 100 was too many or too little, only to have the song continue.

Cause they didn't know if that was enough~

These are our nation's greatest minds

They are literally rocket scientists

They also tied the tampons together,

By the strings like sausages

100 tampons

100 tampons~

Ortho and Idia could only stand in muted silence at what they hoped was a dramatic retelling of what actually happened. The woman's voice managed to carry across the pure awkward energy that must have coated the entire conversation. Ortho was the one to pause the video once the second song spoke about the same men creating a ‘make-up kit’ for space.

The silence in the room was only broken by the quiet hum of Idia’s tower and Yuu's muffled laughter.

Idia finally spoke up, rolling his eyes and folding his arms in an effort to minimize his own secondhand embarrassment, “Okay! But, like, we didn't know either so you can't blame them!? Would you even know how many to bring!?”

Yuu smiled at Idia, shrugging their shoulders, “I mean if I was excessive and it was my period week? Maybe like 30…40 tops?”

Ortho had tilted his head down, brows furrowed in pure confusion, “How…does one use a tampon…? What are the strings for? Why did they tie them together?”

“Ortho, I wish I could tell you…”

“Well! You said this is space science right!? Space and biology are vastly different skill trees, it makes sense they didn't know!”

“Sure, but like…you get a pass on not knowing because you two have never dealt with a period before. These were grown-ass men with wives, sisters, mothers, and daughters. All of which probably got periods.” Yuu shrugged again, grabbing one of Idia’s unopened energy drinks and cracking it open for herself, “So, my point, I'm allowed to not know shit. Because even the smartest assholes didn't know if a single adult woman would need 100 tampons for a six-day trip into space, nor did they even try to guesstimate an actual number.”

…

Idia sighed, holding his head limply in his hands, “...I'm tired…”

“Aw. Look at you, speaking like an American…”

“Prefect Yuu, do you know of…any actual sources of research? Preferably not in comedic song form…”

“...” Sipping the energy drink, Yuu typed at the computer one-handed, “My friend Maxine watched this lady a lot. I think she's a OGBYN?”

Idia made a face, not able to discern the acronym, “OGBYN?”

“I…yeah? Like a pregnancy doctor?”

“But you get a period if you're not pregnant?”

“It's- hold on…” Yuu opens a new tab, quickly googling for the full name, “Ok. Do you have Obstetricians/Gynecologists? It's that.”

Ortho widens his eyes, “Ah! That's a rare occurance to have both titles…”

“Is it?”

Idia nods, digging up his old knowledge from health classes, “Obstetricians here are only really required for ultra-danger level of births. A large population gets by with just biannual visits to their gynecologist and consulting with a midwife. Birth isn't really…I guess…” The wrong word to use was hard, difficult was no better, “...Threatening…?”

“To have both professional titles be the standard is mildly concerning…Is birth seen as more perilous in your world, Prefect Yuu?”

“I’ve never been pregnant, so I can't give firsthand experience. But just…a lot can go wrong, I guess? Both mom and baby's health can turn on a dime. Postpartum issues and stuff can get really bad too…”

“How so? Don't the hospital, family, and loved ones support the mother after the birth?”

“Yeah, the struggles and strife of women aren't really important where I come from.”

“...Why?”

“Because the world hates women, I guess. Starting the video.”

“What-”

This video was wildly more informative. The doctor spoke in easy-to-understand terms, drawing out diagrams and clearly showing the variables one could deal with in their period. She had even excitedly explained the beginning processes of pregnancy. By the end, Ortho had made more than enough notes on the actual hormones involved with the process to begin cross-dimensional research with Riddle and Jade.

Smiling, Ortho turned to Yuu and tilted his head, “That must have been a very nice refresher course. Did it help you remember any information from a prior health class, Prefect Yuu?”

“Ortho, I'm not going to say this again. I don't fucking know. The only health class I had was in elementary school and that was literally just to tell us that a period means we’ve become a woman and are gonna start bleeding now. We didn't learn any of this shit if I remember right.”

“...” Ortho opens his eyes, “What?”

Idia leaned closer, “Wait, they didn't…teach you about this?”

“I mean it was only like a day or two. We learned about what to expect and how to use pads and tampons. And that if we have sex we'd get pregnant. They gave us gift bags of chocolates…”

“...You're lying. You have to be lying. That is such a barebones tutorial.”

Ortho moved past Yuu, eyes now laser-focused on the screen as he started to type, “What were the health classes like in your world?”

“Aaaah! No! Don't type that shit in!” Though she tried, Ortho wasn't moved by her shoving and pulling. Instead, she stood with a hand over her eyes as Ortho and Idia read over the most relevant topics dealing with ‘health classes’.

“...”

“...Prefect Yuu.”

“I don't wanna talk about it.”

Idia was squinting at the screen, opening multiple new tabs to speed read through with Ortho, “They’re getting rid of health classes for elementary students? How do you ban talking about puberty with elementary schoolers? That's like… the tail end is when it starts doesn't it?”

“I don't wanna talk about it.”

“Wait, Nii-san, what is Roe Vs Wade? There's a lot of users in the comment section talking about it.”

“We can search it.”

Yuu sighed as the two quickly read through a brief article, dipping their head down lower and starting to slowly shake it, “Please, don't-”

“WAIT, THAT CAN HAPPEN!?”

“WHY!?” Ortho turned around, hands bracing against Yuu's shoulders and shaking her though her expression didn't change, “WHY WAS THAT EVEN A CHOICE TO MAKE!?”

“...” Yuu's face pinched, taking in a shaking breath before she leaned forward to rest against Ortho's shoulder.

The robot stood stunned, even Idia pausing in his yelling to watch the magicless mage in concern, “...Yuu-”

“Give me a minute.”

The two sat in silence, allowing Yuu to work through their own internal struggle and softly cry into Ortho's —undoubtedly uncomfortable — shoulder. Soon, she took in another big breath, pulling away to discreetly wipe at their eyes.

Idia passed over the open energy drink, “Do you…want to talk about it?”

“Not at all. Can you, like, exit out of those, honestly?”

“Yeah.” Ortho had already exited the pages before Idia could even reach for the mouse again, leaving behind the YouTube video of the smiling doctor.

Yuu sniffles, sipping at the drink before laughing slightly, “Click that video.”

“This one?” Ortho squinted his eyes at the screen, “...Trying the Period Simulator?”

Idia perked up at the word ‘simulator’. Eyeing the screen with renewed interest as the video played, “Wait. You can stimulate a period with a machine? There should be plenty of research then.”

“Not really. Every period's different and not everyone feels pain the same way. Plus It doesn't really…stimulate a period. It more so just tries to recreate cramps…”

Yuu started to smile. Slow and creeping, the longer they watched the video and the sound of pain increased with every new level on the machine. Taking one last sip of their drink, they looked over to Idia’s concerned face, "Hey, Idia…you wanna make something fun?”

“Um-”

Ortho had instantly caught on. His head snapping away from the screen so fast Yuu would have been worried if he had an actual neck, eyes nearly vibrating from how manic He seemed, “I do!”

“That's the spirit, Ortho!”

Unsurprisingly, with how excited Ortho was, the machine only took two days to complete. Yuu and the Shroud brothers had set the machine up in one of the vacant rooms of Ramshackle, a mass text being sent out for everyone to come to the dorm before it got too late in the evening. A follow-up text stating attendance was mandatory.

Idia looked over, raising an eyebrow at Leona and Ruggie who were already lounging around, “I didn't think you two were gonna be the first ones here…”

Ruggie shrugged, a lazy smile on his face as he looked off to the side, “I mean we were already here.”

“Why are y'all always just in my fucking house?” Yuu had casted them a side glare, “Gonna make you fuckers start paying rent.”

Yuu was hooked up to the simulator, doing last-minute testing with Ortho to make sure the machine was working properly. They'd been standing still, their eyes narrowing every few moments before instructing Ortho to turn the level up.

As Yuu reached the highest level, she nodded, “Yeah, that's as good as we’re gonna get. Past the lack of other stuff, you and Idia made this more accurate than the one from my world, I think.”

Ortho giggled, helping Yuu remove the nodes on their back, “Well, there were a lot of other symptoms that we couldn't replicate without putting someone in a full-body simulation.” He closed his eyes, hanging his head in sadness, “And the hormonal changes we would have attempted to recreate are deemed as ‘Uncivil’ torture methods.”

“...” Yuu raised an eyebrow, “What are the civil ones?”

At that moment, Riddle, Trey, and Cater had entered. Riddle already giving Yuu a stern glare as he folded his arms, “I don't have the context of this conversation, but civil or not; torture is very illegal.”

Both Yuu and Ortho boo, Yuu dramatically pointing toward Riddle who only intensified his glare, “No fun haver! No fun haver!”

Riddle huffed, stomping his foot only once as Yuu and Ortho kept chanting, “Torture is illegal and that is final!”

Leona snorted, "Not in a few countries…”

Yuu gasped, turning to Ortho with a giddy expression, “Ortho~! Vacay locations!”

“Yay, torture!”

Idia frowned, Riddle nearly glowing from how red his face was, “And you guys wonder why I don't like them hanging out…”

It took both Cater and Trey's combined powers to get Yuu and Ortho to stop planning a ‘Torture Tour’. The two Juniors pointing out that by international law, torture was still very illegal. And if a country was found to be engaging in such methods, they would be punished accordingly. A fact that Ortho simply stated they wouldn't…say which country was engaging in illegal torture methods. A topic that Trey had shut down without mercy.

“Oh!” Yuu hummed, “Before I forget. Riddle, Cater, you guys take the school offered birth control, right?”

Leona scoffed, raising an eyebrow teasingly at Yuu, “Not gonna ask me?”

“Do you take birth control?”

“...No, but you could at least pretend to ask my opinion.”

Cater sighed, folding his arms and tilting his head in question, “Yes. We take the birth control; why do you ask, sweetie?”

“Do you always feel nauseous after taking it or is that a side effect that will stop after a while?”

Riddle's face pinched, “Why didn't you raise this issue with Crewel?”

“Why are you asking this now? Have you been feeling nauseous the whole time taking it?” Cater sounded more alarmed, even Leona looking at Yuu in a more concerned light.

“I mean I just started taking it-”

“Hold up.” Ruggie raised his hand, the bridge of his nose pinched with his other as he spoke, “You mean to say this whole time…for the past six-seven months you've been here — potentially having sex with your multiple boyfriends — you've not been taking birth control?”

“ …Well, when you spell it out like that, it sounds stupid and irresponsible-”

Cater had sighed, shaking his head in disbelief as he tapped at his phone. “We're going to my clinic after I get permission from Crewel.”

“I don't need to go to a clinic.”

“No, you're getting a new prescription.” Cater openly ignored her protests, briefly looking up to smile at Ortho, “Hey, let's get this whole thing started! What are we doing, Ortho?”

“This is my event-”

Ortho gestured to the machine sitting on the table, multiple muscle connectors in his hand, “This is my brother's and I's attempt at a ‘Period Simulator’! While it doesn't stimulate every symptom we've recorded, Yuu has assured us it's very capable of recreating the proper sensation of a period cramp.”

Idia did his best to hide his grin, wondering just how badly some people would fare, “Anyone wanna go first?”

After a beat of silence, Leona stepped forward, “Might as well see what was making you a wreck last Monday.” he lifted his shirt, letting Ortho affix the sensors along his lower stomach and back, “I still can't believe it was bad enough to make you throw up and cry like you were.”

Yuu rolled her eyes, moving beside Idia to work the controls, “Yeah, big talk from a bitch who's never had a period.” After a few moments, Yuu smiles and tilts her head, “How's it feel?”

Leona scoffed, “Like nothing.”

Yuu had set the machine to ‘Seven’ out of the Ten levels, “Yeah, I haven't turned it on yet.”

The second the switch was flipped, Leona let out a single grunt and crumbled to the ground. The Savanaclaw housewarden slowly curled in himself, a single fist clenching so tight a vein was visibly throbbing under his skin.

Everyone blinked in surprise, Ruggie rushing over to hover his hands over Leona, “H-hey! What's happening!?”

Leona had barely lasted twenty seconds, everyone yelling in panic around his prone form as he slowly dug his claws into the hardwood floors. Luckily, he managed to gather enough willpower to lift his head, pupils shrunken to pinpricks as he gasped out, “Turn this shit off.”

Yuu relented, flipping the machine off and allowing Leona to finally relax and breathe out a loud sigh of relief. Ruggie had already started to remove the sensors from Leona's body when they spoke, “So, how was your one minute period?”

“You were not feeling that…!” Leona fumbled in standing, Trey and Ruggie more so dragging than helping him up. Though the constant spasming and clenching of his inner muscles had stopped, his body suddenly being wracked with pain made him jelly-legged.

Laughing, Yuu shrugged, “I mean, my period hangs around a ‘Six’ or 'Seven’ on my own pain scale if I don't take pain meds. Not like… A ‘Ten’ which is ‘I gotta get to a hospital’ pain, but in range to be ‘a little homicidal’ pain.”

Trey had helped Leona to an armchair, gesturing to the machine as Leona melted into the seat, “Is that thing safe?”

Ortho nodded, “Of course! We did trial runs and everything. Honestly, Prefect Yuu says it feels more along a ‘Three’ of her pain scale at max power. But, I believe with a bit more testing, we can successfully create a one-for-one simulation!”

“Keep that shit away from me.” Ruggie shook his head, sticking close to a still groaning Leona, “Mandatory or not, I'm not tryin’ that thing.”

“You may be spared. Leona's reaction was more than I could have hoped for.”

Leona moved one of his arms from his middle, raising a middle finger to Yuu.

Ortho chimes in, holding up the pads with a gleeful expression, “Who wants to go next?”

The silence that followed was comical, each boy looking at the other with poorly hidden concern and fear. Before long, Trey sighed and stepped forward.

“I'll go. This feels like a situation where we're not getting off unless Yuu's felt we had enough…” He lifted his shirt, already twitching lightly as Ortho stuck the pads to his stomach and back, “Don't put it on too high, ok?”

Yuu giggled, setting the machine to five, “I'll give you the ‘average special’. Not the worst, not the easiest.” Seeing Trey properly hooked up, she tilted her head, “Ready?”

“You'd still turn it on-oh, okay.” Trey had taken a step back, face grimacing as the pain hit him all at once.

Cater had his phone out, held low but at an angle to still capture Trey in the camera, “How you feelin’, Trey?”

“It's…ah…it's coming in…in moments-Mmmmmm this feels wrong.” Trey took slow, controlled breaths. He gently rocked back and forth, gaining an almost zen before the sound of the front door slamming open downstairs startled him. He choked, spit going down the wrong pipe and losing his focus.

With Trey now on his knees and choking, Cater kept filming but gave Yuu a pleading glance, “Ok, turn it off, he's not…recovering from this.”

“True…you wanna go Cater?”

The Junior left out a single harsh laugh, still filming as Ortho helped a shaking Trey remove the pads from his lower body, “You couldn’t pay me enough to do this. How about I just film everything for future posterity?”

Trey groaned, rubbing his lower back, “Way to avoid the experience…” He turned, smiling and raising an eyebrow to Riddle, “Your turn?”

“...Um…” Riddle's eyes briefly glanced at the door, wondering if he could make a break for it. But hearing the voices in the hallway, he sighed knowing one of them would stop or slow him enough for Yuu to drag him back, “I suppose…”

While he was being fitted, the door opened to show Ace and Deuce covered in grass stains and clumps of dirt.

Riddle frowned, awkwardly folding his arms over Ortho's head, “Why are you both dirty?”

Ace pointed over his shoulder, expression annoyed, “Floyd dropped us.”

Behind the two dirty Freshmen were Floyd and Kalim, the smiley housewarden comfortably kneeling on the mer's shoulders. Jade, Azul, and Jamil following behind the two.

Jade laughed into his hand, eyeing his twin subtly, “He got tired of carrying them.”

Looking around the room, brows furrowing together at the scene of both Leona and Trey slumped over, Azul asked, “What…are we doing…?”

Idia snickered, letting Yuu take over the controls, “We made a machine that can simulate the cramps Yuu's had the past few days. We're running a gauntlet to see who can actually stand up to it. You wanna test your skills, Azul-Shii?”

Floyd tugged at the pads attached to Riddle's stomach and lower back, smiling lazily with Kalim still on his shoulders, “These little things are gonna shock you or something?”

Azul hummed, adjusting his glasses as he glanced over Riddle, “Maybe…I'd rather see this process firsthand than go in blind.”

Yuu spoke up, smiling as she messed with dials and switches, “Riddle, I'm giving you a ‘Three’. Because I think anything higher would actually kill you.”

Riddle glancing nervously at Yuu, “Parden, can this pain be fatal?”

“Possibly, I don't know.”

“Wha-aaaaaaaaaaaah!” Riddle cut himself off suddenly, the weak sensation making his insides twist and pinch in an unfamiliar fashion.

Floyd had surged forward — leaving Kalim to tumble off of his shoulders and to be barely caught by Jamil and Azul. He fretted over Riddle in his own way, hands up to hover over his boyfriend's hunched-over body.

“Goldfishie? Is it really that bad…?”

Riddle's only response was to let out a groan, his breathing slowly picking up as another pang of pain hits him. Floyd had just barely sent a glare to Yuu before she shut the machine off.

“You good? I only gave you a three…”

Standing back up, the redhead tried to subtly wipe a few tears away from his eyes, “It was…very unpleasant. Reminded me of…hunger pains.”

“Oh shit, my bad, Riddle.”

Sighing, letting Ortho and Floyd take the sensors off his body Riddle continued, “It's no fault of yours. I was aware this process was painful for you, but I couldn't fathom it…felt like that…”

Deuce muttered, eyeing the pads with curiosity, “Is it really that bad?”

Yuu gestures to the pads, eyebrows raised, “Wanna try it for yourself?”

While Deuce was looking at the pads, clearly weighing his options, Ace scoffed and rubbed the back of his head, “You couldn't pay me to try that…”

“Oh, I wasn't expecting you to, pussy.”

“Oi.”

Yuu shrugged, smiling as Deuce was already allowing Ortho to hook him into the machine, “What? I'm agreeing with you, pussy. You don't have to try, pussy.”

Ace was already standing beside Deuce, scowling as he took one pad off of the other freshman’s back, “Shut up. I'm doing your stupid little challenge.”

Ace barely lasted thirty seconds, crumbling under muscle spasms while Deuce kept himself standing through sheer willpower alone. The redhead was on his knees, fists balled tight and curled as small as he could be in a fetal position. He took in wheezing breaths, letting out long and strained sighs.

He tapped out when Yuu turned the setting up to ‘Eight’. A hand waving at Ortho frantically to remove the pads along his midsection. Deuce had barely choked, face turning red as he strained harder to keep himself standing. While Ace was being freed from the electric pulses, Deuce’s expression had turned more and more distressed the longer he stood. Yuu had turned the dial to ‘Nine’ when Deuce let out a loud yell and started to pull the sensors off of himself by force.

“NO. NOPE. DONE. I ALMOST SHAT MYSELF.”

Ace, who was curled up on the ground arms around his middle, let out a bubble of a giggle from his groaning.

Leona sat up straighter, eyes wide in a sudden epiphany, “That’s the feeling!”

Trey nodded, having given up his seat to let Riddle sit and rest, “Yeah, that is a good way of describing what it feels like. Past the pain, it’s like you need to…really take a shit.”

Riddle mumbled, sending an annoyed glance to Ace now cackling on the floor, “I’d rather we say ‘stomachache’ than…defecating.”

Yuu, laughing along with Ace turned to the other group of boys, “Anyone else wanna try?”

Floyd and Jade had simply looked at each other before grinning. They were hooked up quickly, both Trey and Riddle excusing themselves and wishing the other’s luck in their ‘torture sessions’.

Looking over the dials, Yuu spoke, “I’ll give you guys a ‘Five’ to start off with. I wanna see one of you guys make it to ‘Ten’.”

The machine was barely on for two seconds before Floyd was ripping the pads off of his body, his once playful expression dropping instantly at the flash of pain, “I don’t wanna do this anymore.”

Azul spoke up, eyeing the machine with even more distrust than before, “That’s a record…”

Yuu turned to Jade, the other twin still hooked up but eyebrows furrowed together, “Still wanna try for ‘Ten’?”

He’s only response was to give a thumbs up, a little approving hum in his throat.

Jade getting to ‘Ten’ was a feat in itself. The Sophomore had managed to ‘Seven’ before he physically started to show signs of distress. All the way to ‘Ten’, Jade had started to let out sharp and shrill clicks and growls. His expression starting to nash as he bared his teeth in a show of hostile energy, his hands flexing with the barely concealed urge to rip into something unfortunate enough to get too close.

Idia had quickly turned the machine off once Yuu had turned the dial to ‘Ten’, everyone else in the room having been pressed against the walls or furniture in an effort to stay as far away from Jade as possible. As his brain slowly eased back into its front conciseness, he blinked and looked around the room.

“Did something…happen?”

Floyd spoke up, Azul, Ace, and Deuce all using him as a shield from Jade's feral display, “Wow, I'm glad we don't have periods; dad would of been dead before we even hatched.”

“Ah. I assume it was bad then?”

Azul poked his head from behind Floyd, “You don't know?”

“No, I blacked out.”

Ruggie spoke up from his place pressed against Leona, “By the Seven…”

Yuu smiled, holding up the other set of sensors toward Azul, “You wanna try now, Azul?”

“Please don't. We love each other, this doesn't need to be how I die today.”

“I wanna try!” Kalim had instantly popped up from behind Jamil, eyes shining in glee as he instantly moved to Jade’s place.

“Kalim, no.” Jamil had moved, stopping Kalim from lifting his shirt, “You can’t just,” Sighing he gently shoved the other boy away from the machine, “You can’t just try something like this. There’s no telling how you could react to this.”

“React to what?”

Vil and Rook walked into the room, the Pomefiore housewarden raising an eyebrow at the unfamiliar machine.

Yuu smiled, gesturing to the machine as though it were a new car, “We're doing a fun little contest to see who can withstand a period cramp. Jamil was just about to volunteer-”

“No, I wasn't. Once again, I was keeping Kalim from jumping into something he has no grasp of.”

Vil hummed, tilting his head as Rook lit up beside him, “Trés bien! What a glorious act of empathy; to feel along with our beloved petite madame the torture that casted them into turmoil from the last half fortnight!”

“It would be an interesting experience. Though it's impossible to recreate the ailment one for one, we would at least know the physical part of it.” Vil smiled, looking to Jamil with a saccharine smile, “You'll be giving us an example?”

Kalim whined, pushing and pulling Jamil’s arm, “Please? If you try and say it's okay, then me and Vil can try. Please~?”

“...” Jamil sighed, holding his hands out for the grouping of pads in Yuu's hands, “Don't put it on the highest setting…”

“Jamil…I could never…to you.”

The Scarabia vice was no stranger to pain nor stressful situations. But the sudden rolling waves of clenching and spasms in his lower stomach gave him pause. In what could be described as ‘The Five Stages of Grief’ Jamil's expressions twisted and melded as he stood silent. Finally, he rested on ‘Acceptance’ his face falling back into his normal neutral expression. He took in one last breath, sighing out as he now stood as though nothing was wrong.

“Okay. This is unpleasant, I feel like I'm being kicked in the stomach by a toddler over and over. I may overblot again.”

Vil raised an eyebrow, “Oh?”

“Yeah, this is torture.”

Kalim hummed, eyes now holding an edge of concern, “Is it really that bad?”

“Well, it's not baking a fucking cake, I'll tell you that.”

“OMG, you have PMS. Tracks.” Yuu smiled, gently clicked the knob to ‘Seven’ and barely holding in her giggles as Jamil started to quickly detach the sensors from his body.

“No. No, I will actually try to kill someone again if I keep that on longer.” Jamil gave Yuu a mild glare. He sighs, rolling his eyes as Kalim rushed over and excitedly waited for Ortho to hook him up, “That was deeply unpleasant…”

Yuu only responded by making a kissy face, turning the dials to lower settings. Her eyes glance over to Kalim, the boy beaming and bouncing on his heels, “Ready?”

“Ready!”

The machine was only set to a ‘Three’, but the second the sensation had hit Kalim he stopped bouncing on the balls of his feet. His expression slowly but steadily dropped into neutrality and then quickly into distress.

Jamil spoke up, “Kalim-”

“Turn it off.”

Yuu snickered, but moved to flip the machine off, “Kalim, you only had a ‘Three’, don’t you-”

“Turn it off.”

The machine was off, Ortho and Jamil quickly removed the patches from Kalim’s sides. The housewarden in question turned to Yuu, eyes wide in barely contained hysteria.

“Why did that make me relive every trauma I’ve had?”

Yuu blinked, unmoved by his concern, “Kalim, that's just what a period does sometimes.”

Cater spoke up, glaring softly at Yuu while he muttered under his breath, “Yeah, because that's totally healthy and normal to feel once a month…” He ended the video, smiling toward Ortho, "I actually had other plans today, can you keep recording for me, Ortho?"

"Got it, Cater Diamond!"

Jamil had Kalim half draped across his shoulders, the housewarden mumbling in their region’s dialect, “I'm going to take him back to the dorm before he has a full-blown episode. Once you’re done with your torture machine, break it. Please. I'm begging you.”

Yuu scoffed, rolling her eyes “It's not torture-”

Azul placed a hand on Yuu's, smiling softly once she looked at him, “Oh, my dearest pearl. The only way to describe what you went through is torture, Plain and simple. And on that fact, I and the twins shall be taking our leave, as well.”

Floyd had laughed, already at the door and holding it open for Cater and Jamil carrying a still-mumbling Kalim out with him, “Azul doesn't want to risk Shrimpy talking him into doing it.”

“Don't give her ideas. Farewell, my pearl and others. Hopefully, you all have a more pleasant day than what it’s been…”

Yuu raises an eyebrow, “You and Ruggie don't wanna leave yet?”

Leona smirked, shaking his head as he was fully relaxed in the armchair, “Oh no. This is more fun than you said it was gonna be. I'm enjoying myself, Feral.”

Ruggie tilted his head, smiling at Ortho, “Oi, Ortho. Were you gonna try it?”

Ortho blinked, “Ruggie Bucchi, I don’t have internal organs.”

Idia muttered under his breath, glaring at Ruggie from the corner of his eyes, “Please, my brother’s suffered enough in this life.”

“Then I believe it is my turn, non?” Rook excitedly stepped forward, lifting his shirt for Ortho to affix the sensors, “What a rare experience I will endure! One not felt by this generation, past or future.”

“Yeah, I'll put you at ‘Seven’ and go from there.” Yuu flipped the switch.

Rook's eyes widened, his once excited expression turning into a strange hybrid of stunned and panicked. He hunched forward, his lips parted but silent as he slowly eased himself to kneel on the ground.

Yuu quirked an eyebrow, watching the Junior slowly curl in on himself, “Ah, there he goes.”

Vil looked vaguely concerned, folding his arms and tilting enough to see Rook’s face, “Rook…are you alright?”

“I have never felt such a sensation. My insides twisting and gripping in fear, anticipation of dread. The physical grasp of femininity strangles me, punishing my hubris for daring to believe I could stand against such a beautiful force-”

Leona spoke up from his chair, eyes lidded as he caught Yuu’s attention, “Turn it up.”

“Please don’t…”

Yuu giggled, “Want me to turn it off?”

“Please do.”

Leona lamented, claiming Yuu was being soft on her precious Pomefiore boy when she turned the machine off. The Junior finally seeing the pure amusement of this game now that he could witness those who annoyed him on the receiving end.

Rook was up and twirling around when Vil was still getting set up. The Junior was reciting freestyle poetry on the curse and blessings of womanhood. Though his main takeaway was joy at gaining a new sensation to his lifelong collection of experiences.

Vil only rolled his eyes, “That's one way of looking at it…”

“Well, why the fuck are you doing it then?” Yuu asked as she turned dials on the machine.

“The term ‘gut-wrenching’ comes up an offensive amount of times in scripts. And since I haven't had gut issues since I was a child, I actually don't have much to work with.” he smiles, smoothing his shirt back down, “So this will be research. Onion, set me at ‘Six’.”

“I'm giving you ‘Ten'.” Yuu smiled, taunting and calm, before flipping the machine back on.

Everyone in the room jumped at the ear-piercing, shrill scream that escaped Vil, the sound briefly echoing in the room. The star had ripped the sensors off his body faster than Floyd had. He took a step forward, wobbly-legged but determined as he walked toward the door and fumbled his way out of the room.

A beat of silence hits the room, Rook excusing himself before following Vil out of the room. Yuu bit her lip, turning the machine off as Leona started to laugh. Ruggie no better as lion beastman became more and more hysterical in his laughter.

The door opened slowly, Epel, Jack, and Sebek casting worried looks to Leona hunched over in his chair.

Epel did his best to wait for Leona's laughter to ease. When the Junior…clearly wasn't, he managed to speak over Leona, “Why is Vil lyin’ face down in the hallway?”

Yuu opened her mouth, closing it at Leona's laughter reaching a new pitch. She looked over to Ruggie, the hyena nodding his head.

“Ok, we're gonna head out. I think we've seen all we can see.” Ruggie draped Leona's arms over his shoulder, half dragging his housewarden out, stopping to pat Jack on the shoulder, “Good luck…”

“With what?” Jack called out, staring after his upperclassmen in confusion.

Ortho tilted his head, gesturing to the machine, “Would any of you like to make 10 thaumarks?”

Sebek spoke, “Ortho, that is by far the worst way to start this conversation.”

“Here's a better one then.” Yuu smiles, gesturing to the machine herself, “Would any of you boys like a lesson in empathy?”

“No?”

Jack tilts his head toward the device, ears pinned back in distrust, “What is that?”

“Try it out, Jacky-Boy. Test your grit, are you tougher than the average woman from my world or a simple puppy in my presence?”

“...You're goding me.”

“Is it working?”

“...” Jack clicked his tongue, taking two big steps and standing beside Ortho, “I'm only doing this because I know you'll get annoying if I reject it…”

“Idia-Senpai…what is this?” Epel casted the housewarden a confused stare, he and Sebek watching Ortho place medical sensors on Jack's lower stomach and back.

“For real? We made a torture box and have been testing everyone's pain tolerance.”

Sebek snapped his gaze toward Idia, “You what?”

“Wait, torture how-aaaaah…?” Jack's question quickly slid into a confused vocal run, his expression pinching together in a guarded grimace.

Yuu leaned on the table, raising an eyebrow at Jack, “I gave you a ‘Six’. How you feeling?”

Jack didn't answer, nor did he move from his braced stance. As nearly a minute passed, Jack finally gained the power to turn his head. It started small, minimal slow shakes that slowly grew faster.

“Are you having a seizure or are you asking me to turn it off?”

Jack's only response was to shake his head faster.

“Jack, that is not answering my question.”

“Just turn it off, ya psycho!” Epel yelled.

“Fiiiiiine.” Yuu groaned, rolling her eyes and shutting the machine off.

Even when the currents were gone, Jack remained completely still and tensed. He could only cough lightly as Epel came over to him with concern.

Sebek glared at Yuu, “What did you do!?”

Yuu slapped the top of the machine, Jack finally moving if only to get farther away out of fear that Yuu had turned it back on, “We made a period simulator and let me tell you…none of you guys are built to handle this shit apparently.”

Epel frowned, his hands moving to massage along the beastman's jaw, “Jack, baby, unclench…”

“I can't. If I do. I'm gonna fall.”

Idia snickered, turning his tablet for Sebek to see, “I've been making a scale. The only one who's managed to make it to ‘Ten’ is Jade and he blacked out doing it.”

The room door slammed open, Leona standing in the doorway with a smile on his face, “Good, the machine's free.”

Rolling her eyes, Yuu laughed at seeing who was behind him, “You did not come back just to watch them try the simulator.”

He stepped back inside, Malleus and Lilia walking in behind him. Silver was tucked in Malleus’s arms, the Sophomore snoozing peacefully.

Lilia smiled, looking at the machine in curiosity, “Leona tells us it was an experience that we could never have naturally! I'm glad I had the idea to gather my boys and make sure they were able to partake.”

Malleus tilts his head, holding Silver higher in his arms, “Will Silver be able to experience it if he is asleep? I would hate for him to miss such an event due to his disorder.”

“Oh!” Lilia waved for Malleus to place Silver in the empty chair, “Maybe this simulator will be the legendary item that can wake Silver.”

Yuu shrugs, Ortho excitedly holding the sensors up beside her, “One way to find out.”

Was it possibly cruel and illegal to hook a sleeping person to what was essentially a torture device? Obviously, they still did it. Though the meaner outcome of Silver leaping up in confusion and pain, what actually happened was more concerning. The group all watched as Silver simply creased his brows in slumber before his forehead smoothed again. Yuu checked the settings a second time, the dials all turned to ‘Ten’ each.

“...I know he didn’t just eat this shit.”

Lilia sighed, patting Silver’s head, “I could say I'm surprised, but I’m not…”

Leona raised an eyebrow, mildly annoyed that Silver had no reaction, “At least I can see why you were sleeping so much during this.”

“Sleeping does keep the Blood Goddess away.”

Malleus and Leona turned to her, each wearing looks of concern, “The whom?”

“May I try it?” Lilia looked at the sensors, holding one of the nodes in hand, “I’d love to see if it compares to anything I’ve felt before.”

Yuu smiled, “My frame of reference is being stabbed. That was a common one in my world.”

Lilia was hooked up quickly, the older fae standing with his hands on his hips, “Well, only one way to compare then!”

Once the switch was flipped, the smile faded from Lilia’s face. The fae’s hands slowly gripping harder and harder into his hips. He blinked, his brows creasing together then relaxing at odd intervals. He continued to open his mouth, a syllable slipping out before he closed his mouth again.

Leona laughed briefly, ignoring the annoyed glance Malleus sent him, “Having fun?”

“Leona, don’t act like you didn’t crumble the second I turned this shit on.” Yuu turns to Lilia “But, Lilia, are you okay? I gave you an 'Eight'.”

The fae managed a laugh, his smile quickly falling off his face as his breath came out in a ragged motion before he spoke, “It’s…it’s reminding me of a time when I had an iiiiiiiiiiron needle stabbed into my siiiiiiiiiiiide…ahahaHA-It broke off and I just…AH-dealt with that for. Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaays…ha…”

Malleus didn’t move to help, but watched his guardian with a weary eye, “Are you…alright?”

“I will be honest, this is making me think of the WAR…HA. WHORE! Oh, that helps. WHORE!”

“Ok, turn it off…” Idia gently eased Ortho away from the older fae when Lilia had started to simply yell swear words.

Once he was free of the sensors, Lilia had returned to his normal jovial air. Laughing under his breath, he stretched and popped his back, “Oh…oh, that was dreadful. You say it can get worse than that?”

Idia speaks, “It can get way worse, apparently. There’s this thing call endometriosis, sickass curse name btw, that can physically cripple people.”

“Shroud, you can use your technomagics to screen for that, correct?”

“U-um…yeah? I searched up symptoms of it so if need be I could locate it on a scan-Wait, Malleus-Shii, Yuu doesn't have it, right?”

“I don't believe so…but, there is nothing wrong with a thorough search to ensure my beloved's health.”

“Malleus, I'm standing right here.”

The horned fae smiles, leaning down to press a kiss to Yuu's temple, “That you are.”

She huffs, fighting against a smile threatening to spread across her face, “Are you trying this thing or not?”

“Hmmm… I suppose there's no reason not to partake. It will be an experience, as Lilia put it-”

“Waka-Sama! No! This machine is clearly dangerous!” Sebek moved forward, trying to stand between Malleus and the simulator, “It was enough to render Jack speechless and Lilia in a state of hysteria! As your retainer I can not allow you to try such an activity!”

“Sebek, are you insinuating that I am weaker than not only Lilia but Jack as well?”

“...” Sebek's stance slowly eased, the Freshmen curling in on himself with mild shame, “I…I did not mean it in such a way…”

“Then step aside, I wish to empathize with my fiancée, properly.”

The half-fae sighed sadly, moving to the side and letting Malleus be outfitted with the sensors.

“Child of man, please set it to the highest setting.” He raises his hand, a move to silence both Sebek and Yuu, “I'm aware of my choice. I wish to experience the worst this ailment could become to you. There is also the factor that my body is simply…more hardy than your own. The highest setting may be the only way I can feel it.”

“...” Yuu sighs and starts to adjust the machine., “I hate that your logic is sound…okay. I hope you don't regret your choices…”

Leona spoke up, watching the scene with an easy going smile, “I hope he does.”

When the switch was flipped, nothing happened. Everyone standing in silence, everyone watching Malleus’s face for any change showing pain or distress. Nearly a minute passes, the horned fae remaining perfectly still and silent.

Leona blinked, making brief eye contact with Lilia before he stepped closer to Malleus. he snapped his fingers in quick succession, twice in front of the fae's eyes and then once directly next to his ear. Malleus didn't so much as twitch.

“Malleus?...Malleus?” Lilia reached out, shaking his charge by the shoulders and receiving no response, “...Turn this off.”

Idia was already flipping the machine off before Yuu could turn to do it. Once the lights had dimmed on the box, Malleus's eyes regained their focus and light. The prince finally blinked, looking toward Yuu in question.

“Have we started? I don't believe I'm feeling anything.”

Leona let out a harsh, cackle of a laugh. The housewarden turning and walking out the room, “Oh that's rich. I got what I wanted, I'm gone.” He swung the door on his way out, laughing all the way out of Ramshackle.

Yuu stood with a hand over her mouth, “...Okay…I'm not going to send you back to wherever you just escaped from…so you win, I guess?”

Epel and Sebek both perk up, all concern and hesitation gone, “Win?”

Ortho laughs, taking the sensors off of a confused Malleus, “You've seen. Simply withstanding the simulator is hard enough. It only makes sense that actually enduring the simulator on max power is a win.”

Sebek quickly snatched Idia’s tablet, eyes scanning over the names and settings of their friend group, “You said making it to ‘Ten’ is a win?”

Epel had shoved his way to looking at the tablet despite Idia’s urging to give him his tablet back, “Ya said only Leech made it to ‘Ten'?”

Yuu hummed, patting a still confused Malleus on the shoulder, “I don't know if we can count that one. He did go fucking feral.”

“True…”

“I've decided!” Sebek slammed the tablet into Idia’s chest, nearly sending the housewarden through the wall, “I will do this challenge to show the might of Diasomnia!” He gripped his shirt, pulling harshly to rip the cloth clean off of his body.

Jack spoke, “Sebek you did not need to rip your shirt off-”

Epel harshly shushed his taller boyfriend, eyes not moving away from the newly revealed muscled chest, “Shut up, let him do what he thinks is best…”

Sebek smirked, requesting Yuu start him on ‘Nine’ as opposed to a lighter number, “I will be able to go straight to the winning number this way. What kind of retainer could I be if I can't handle this level of trivial pain?”

“...” Yuu slowly smiled, waiting for Ortho to give her the ok of Sebek being properly hooked up, “Ready?”

“Yes.”

The switch was flipped, Sebek's smug expression instantly falling as his face paled. One of his hands reached out toward Silver, digits sinking into the Sophomore's chest hard enough to startle him awake.

“I'm up, I'm-what's-”

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” Sebek yelled, eyes laser focused on the floor as he kept himself up right with sheer willpower and core strength alone.

“Sebek!? Why are you yelling!? Father!? Malleus!?” Silver attempted to wiggle out from under Sebek's pin. A feat becoming increasingly difficult the tighter Sebek's fist started to twist Silver’s shirt.

“Lilia-Sama was right, yelling helps! YELLING HELPS SO MUCH!”

“What is going on?” Silver called out in pure confusion.

Yuu spoke up, still calm through Sebek's shouting, with the flair of announcing ‘Waterfall’, “And here's ‘Ten’.” Yuu clicked the machine to its final setting.

Sebek dropped to his knees, pulling Silver half off of the chair as he refused to release his grip.

After nearly thirty seconds of Sebek's yelling and Silver’s questions fueled by pure panic, the machine was turned off. Sebek slumps fully to the floor, breathing heavily before slowly curling himself into a ball.

Silver looked around bewildered, hoping someone would tell him what just happened, “When did I get to Ramshackle? I was in the quad?”

Lilia laughs, already helping Sebek off the ground and slinging an arm over his shoulder, “We can fill you in on the way back. I do believe we're done with today's event.”

Lilia left no room for discussion, already dragging a groaning Sebek out of the room,

semi-forcing a confused Silver and Malleus to follow Behind him. Silver questioning What was even happening, having fallen asleep in the quad of the school only to wake up to Sebek's screaming more he normally did.

Malleus followed his posse, a pout on his lips as rain clouds seemed to form in showing his plight, “I didn't even try It…”

Yuu turns to Epel, raising an Eyebrow and holding the sensors out to him, “Epel, are you like… sure, you want to go all the way to ten?”

“Ah ain't no fuckin’ bitch. Slap them bad boys on me so Ah can have braggin’ rights ov'r these losers.”

“Well, if we're counting that as legally binding…” Yuu turns dials on the machine, setting them to max as she did with Malleus only to be stopped by Ortho gently placing a hand over hers, “Yes, Ortho?”

“Maybe we don't start Epel Felimer off at the highest setting. I'm beginning to believe a sudden simulation of this variety could induce brain damage.”

Jack took a small step back, eyeing the machine with even more distrust than before, “Wait, really!?”

Ortho shrugs, “I mean, it's doing something to people.”

Jack sighed, folding his arms, “Did you guys do trial runs with thing or something? Like, are you entirely sure it's safe to use on actual people?”

Idia gestures over to Yuu, “Yuu tried it.”

“Ok. So we're going off the word of a crazy person?”

“Ay!?”

“Don’ care! Ah got a point ta prove!” Epel lifted his shirt, glaring at Ortho until the android relented and stuck the first sensor on him.

Once properly fitted, Yuu started Epel on ‘One’, increasing the power every two minutes to ensure he felt each stage. The Pomefiore Freshmen didn't even flinch until he got to ‘Three’. He made a single sound of discomfort, hands moving to press on his stomach.

“Ok…that felt…Ah felt that, that's the weird part…”

And such sensations only got worst. Epel having to brace his hands against the wall, widening his stance in an attempt to keep himself standing once the machine was turned up to ‘Five’.

“...”Epel’s face was scrunched up, brows furrowed as he looked through his bangs at Yuu, “Is…is needin’ to poop-”

“Yeah, that's a normal feeling to have during.”

“A'ite…”

By ‘Eight’, Epel had adopted the new method of screaming being a crutch. He had lowered himself to the floor, kneeling into a frog pose.

“Epel, if you actually shit on my floor-”

“SHUT UP!”

The final hurdle was to last an entire minute on ‘Ten’. Ortho stating they should decrease the time for the last level as Epel had started to punch the wall. A whole minute Epel spent the time power walking around the room, engaging his entire body to distract from the pain. Every now and again yelling out a country-flavored string of swears. The moment Ortho excitedly clicked the machine off, saying that Epel had completed the entire simulation experience, the purple haired Freshmen dropped to his knees and vomited.

“OH, COME ON!?”

Ortho hummed, tilting his head in question while Idia tried to hide behind him, “I wonder if prolong exposure can lead to vomiting…So many new variables…”

Jack was careful to not step into the puddle before a panting Epel, sighing as he raised an eyebrow at him, “Congrats, you won bragging rights on throwing up.”

“Shut up and take me to the damn infermary…”

Jack picked Epel into his arms, walking the groaning Freshmen out of the room with a chatting Ortho hot on their heels.

Yuu sighs, looking at the puddle of vomit on their floor, “Now I gotta clean that shit up.”

“You’re the one who wanted to torture your friends again under the guise of empathy…” Idia could only smile at the glare she gives him, raising his hands in a carefree manner, “Everything’s got a price, you know?” He moved to fully pack and shut the machine down, unaware of the look Yuu was sending him.

“...Hey, Idia? You didn’t try.”

“Yeah, because I’d rather be tazed?” Idia spoke out, voice clear with how stupid he thought the idea was.

“...” Yuu smiles, reaching into the table’s drawer and pulling out a simple black-box tazer. Her eyebrows wiggle as she presses the button twice just to show it was charged.

“...” Idia sighed, grimacing as he held his arm out, “Everything’s got a price…”

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twst #twst wonderland #yuu oc #heartslabyul #savanaclaw #octavinelle #scarabia #pomefiore #ignihyde #diasomnia #idia shroud #ortho shroud

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supercap2319 · 28 days ago

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The Daily Planet Newsroom – Midday. Perry White storms out of his office, scanning the bullpen. "Where in the Sam Hill are Kent and Lang?! I needed that article on my desk ten minutes ago!" He said, voice gruffly.

Just then, Clark Kent and Y/N Lang walk in from the far hallway, both looking slightly ruffled, hair messy, collars crooked, papers askew out of order. Perry eyes them suspiciously. "Well, well, look who finally decided to join the land of the living. You two look like you went twelve rounds with a tornado. Where’ve you been? Getting manicures?"

Clark adjusted his glasses awkwardly. "Uh, we were just—um—doing some... very thorough research for the story, Chief."

"Yeah! Deep investigative work. Real gritty stuff for another front page story for the Planet, boss." Y/N adds to Clark's statement.

Lois Lane, watching from her desk with a smirk, raises an eyebrow and leans back in her chair. She didn't believe those country bumpkins for a second. It was obvious that they were hooking up in the most awkward places around the office. In Lois's honest opinion, they should try the men's room next time. That's where she had traded a few passionate kisses with Paul from prints last week. She walked over towards them, her heels clacking against the polished floor.

"Uh-huh. “Deep research,” huh? What’d you two do, get locked in the janitor’s closet?"

Clark and Y/N exchange wide-eyed glances. Perry stares at them, unamused. "If I find out you two were hiding out while Metropolis keeps spinning, I’ll assign you to obituaries for a month. Now get me that story now!" Perry stomps off. Lois chuckles and returns to her keyboard. Y/N tugs at his tie, and Clark sighs, already pulling papers from his folder.

"Next time, we don’t take the shortcut past maintenance." Clark whispered.

"Next time, we fly. Or the rooftop." Y/N said.

#x male reader #male reader insert #male x male #david corenswet #David corenswet x male reader #clark kent #clark kent x male reader #superman x male reader #Clark Joseph Kent x male reader #kal el #superman comics #superman #man of steel #superman 2025

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cobaltperun · 1 year ago

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Genius - All I Want

Cairo Sweet x female (G!P) Reader

Summary: It was such a cliché, a reunion she didn’t expect to ever happen, let alone six years after she last saw you. It was supposed to mean nothing, a bit of nostalgia, maybe a brief catching up while waiting for class, it was supposed to be a small wave of nostalgia, not a tsunami that disrupted her entire life. You were her opposite, and as hard as she tried she couldn’t resist your pull.

Story masterlist / Next part

Word count: 3k

-All I want is a place to call my own, to mend the hearts of everyone who feels alone-

There was nothing quite as comforting as the freedom of an open road and the clear night sky above you. It was peaceful, though lonely sometimes.

“Well, you’re still as creepy as you were when I was a child,” you said as you watched the dense forest covering the hill ahead of you. Lovell Hill certainly didn’t get any more inviting since you last visited the forsaken small village you were born in. And it certainly didn’t look any more inviting in the middle of the night, close to midnight.

At least you didn’t have to go on foot.

That would be kinda scary, even now that you were technically an adult. At least as far as age went, yeah, you were an adult. You hardly had the life experience needed to call yourself that, though you did spend the last two years away from your parents and the safety they provided. You turned sixteen and took off on your Yamaha Star Venture, staying at one place only long enough to finish one semester at school and then moving on.

Why did you suddenly decide to come back? To this small village in Tennessee? You weren’t sure, maybe it was nostalgia, maybe you wanted to come back and see how much you changed, to measure yourself to the place that shaped your childhood, now with a different outlook on life. Like a frog from a well that learned of the ocean and yearned for the calm of its well, at least for a short while, at least until you closed the chapter of your life called high school.

The road ahead of you narrowed as you entered the dense forest, the sky above you vanished, and the only source of light came from your motorcycle. How long has it been since you ran through this forest as a child, playing hide and seek without a care in the world, without any pressure, creeped out by the random sounds and shadows, but happy to be with your friend. That was so long ago, you weren’t even going to school back then.

As you drove on you saw the lights ahead of you, and you knew exactly what they were. A lone light coming from one room of a huge mansion, the only one on the hill that was still occupied back when you still lived here. From the looks of it that didn’t change. You didn’t look at the mansion though, you just drove past it. The only person you’d be interested in seeing from that mansion probably no longer lived there. She was too good to be stuck in this small village. You remained unaware that someone in that mansion caught a glimpse of you riding by, confused and intrigued by the random person passing by.

~X~

The random biker passing through the Lovell Hill reignited her muse as her fingers glided across her keyboard. Where were they going? Where did they come from? What made them take the road few traveled? Cairo didn’t know, but she liked to imagine the strange traveler. Perhaps they were familiar with the area, confident in their ability to take a shortcut across the hill. Or perhaps they took a wrong turn and she’d soon hear the roar of the engine coming back.

Maybe it would wake her up when she finally tries to fall asleep.

Lonely girl, in a lonely place, longing for some kind of connection, for more than she already had, even if it was just a moment, she’d forget sooner rather than later. She still typed away, contemplating the biker’s decision to pass through the haunting dense forest, all the while feeling the tiny legs crawling up her bare calf. The cigarette she lit just before she picked up on the sound of the motorcycle slowly burned away, forgotten just like she was.

~X~

You parked your motorcycle in the garage, next to your parents’ car and took a deep breath. You were back home, because, truly, nowhere else ever felt as much like home as rural Tennessee. It’s been six years since you moved out with your parents, but they kept the house, kept it clean and took care of the car so everything was set for them when they visited to escape their jobs every few months or so.

It wasn’t a huge mansion, especially compared to the one you just passed, but it was a fairly big, two-story house, with several bedrooms and plenty of space in the living room, as well as a very nice, well-furnished kitchen. The pictures were still hanging on the walls as you stepped inside and took your boots off. Some were from your birthdays, some from your first day at school, some were you and Cairo, or her parents and your parents. They were all attorneys, so of course you and Cairo ended up spending a lot of time together as kids. Well, you did until you started going to school. You placed the backpack you packed your entire life in on the floor of the living room, and a bit too exhausted to go and set up a bed in your childhood room, you just crashed on the sofa and used your motorbike jacket as makeshift cover.

The house still had an admirable book collection, mostly for show though. You read as a child, there wasn’t much else to do here, but most of the books were just bought for show, never to be opened. But, they were there and they gave the house a certain aesthetic, you guessed.

As you looked at the books you noticed an old copy of ‘Around the World in Eighty Days’ by Jules Verne sticking out like a sore thumb with the damaged and stained spine separating it from the well-kept pristine condition of most of the books around it. How many times did you and Cairo read that as children? You smiled at that, promising silently to get the spine fixed up a bit. Just enough for it not to fall apart the next time someone took it, but not to the point of downright replacing it. You wanted to preserve the memories, but that was a task for another day. For now, you just closed your eyes and drifted off,

~X~

Two days later you found yourself in the vice principal’s office, just filling out the last few papers to finalize your transfer.

“You can attend classes right away, miss L/N,” vice principal Manor told you as you signed the final document.

“Right, and the locker?” you asked, ready to put away your helmet and not carry it around at all times.

The woman just slid a key toward you with a copy of your schedule. “Here you go.”

You nodded, smiling gratefully and getting up with your copies of the documents and the things your were given in hand.

“Oh, and welcome back,” vice principal told you.

She knew your parents, as they were very active in the community while they still lived here. It was the connections they still had that allowed you to make such an abrupt decision and transfer on such a short notice.

“Thanks, I appreciate it,” you still found it a bit awkward when people much older than you acted friendly toward you because of your parents. You understood, but you also felt they only saw your parents’ child, and not you yourself.

“Say ‘hi’ to your parents for me,” vice principal Manor justified your feelings on the matter.

You just chuckled lightly at that. “Of course. Have a good day,” you said politely while stepping out of her office.

You and your parents had a good relationship, you loved them, they loved you. You often talked to them over the phone, and you texted at least one of them almost daily. You didn’t see much of them though, you wanted independence and they were more than willing to give you a chance to experience life on your own, all the while making sure you knew you could turn to them if you ever needed. And you were more than happy with that.

You checked the tag on the locker key and looked around, searching for it in the hall, it wasn’t a huge school, so it wasn’t too hard to find. The almost empty hallway was a bit haunting, though, you did get here early thinking paperwork would take longer to sort out. Finally, you did find your locker, not too far from another girl that came early.

Perhaps it was the abrupt way you stopped when you noticed the number on your tag, or maybe it was your jacket and boots, but the girl looked at you.

“We don’t get new students that often,” she commented, her raspy voice catching your attention immediately.

“I better not disappoint then,” you opened the locker and placed your helmet inside. You’d have to go and pick up your books and other things you might need later. Why did you sign up for a literature class again? Oh yeah, you wanted to reignite your passion for reading after all these years.

You could feel her eyes looking you over. “Need help finding your first class?”

“Thanks,” you grinned, meeting her eyes and taking in the way she was dressed. “I like to figure new places out myself, but I appreciate the offer,” you really did, both actually. If you got lost, well, you could find your way out, again, it wasn’t that big of a school. You found your locker just fine, surely you could find a classroom.

“Well, see you around, stranger,” she winked and walked away. “I’m Winnie, by the way!” she exclaimed once she put some distance between you two.

“Y/N!” you answered and went in the opposite direction. It would be a bit awkward if you went the same way when you just rejected her offer to help you find the classroom you were supposed to go to for your first class.

~X~

The next time you saw Winnie it was less than ten minutes later, and this time she was accompanied by a shorter, black-haired girl, you didn’t pay much attention to the though, too focused on finding the classroom you needed to go to.

“Still don’t need help?” she asked as you crossed paths.

“Still no, I’ll be sure to cry for help if needed,” you joked earning a small laugh from he girls, and somehow the laughter you heard sounded familiar. A bit shy and reserved, but soft, but by the time you fully registered the familiarity of the sound the girl with Winnie was too far for you to call her.

It couldn’t be… Right?

Why would it be her? For once maybe you were wrong. Maybe being back in this place made you hear what wasn’t there.

Even if it was, well, you had half a year to come across her again.

Finally, you found the classroom you were looking for and were immediately hit by words you did not expect to hear, especially not in school, in a classroom, read loudly by a middle-aged larger male to at least slightly older man.

“Marcelle wants me to fuck her. She leaps off the couch and pushes herself between the girl and me,” the taller one, dressed in a more comfortable gray tracksuit, perhaps a PE teacher, read.

You weren’t sure how to react as the older man tried to make his colleague stop reading… well, not exactly the material you were expecting. You just entered the classroom, hoping that would be enough to get their attention. It wasn’t and you wanted to erase the ‘split fig’ line from your memory, alas, you were cursed! For you memorized what you heard like a damn recorder. Split fig would remain in your memory likely until something even more jarring replaced it.

You nearly walked out, not wanting to witness any more of this when they began going through student’s things, and that was a line you didn’t like being crossed. The student left that there trusting it wouldn’t be touched, it was private, and they had no business looking through someone’s stuff.

“Well, this is an interesting first impression,” you said without a care in the world making the two men freeze and turn to look at you. “Guess I found the literature class. Good morning, by the way,” you checked the doors again and sure enough, this was the classroom. Not that you needed to check again. Between the books on the shelves, framed pictures of famous writers, general feel of the room as well as everything written on the blackboard there was no doubt in your mind you were in the right place.

The man you guessed was the literature teacher at least had the decency to look ashamed. “Uh, good morning, are you here for the class?”

You nodded, taking a chair along and setting it next to the one where the pile of books was. “Sure, I was going to leave my stuff here, but,” you glanced at the teacher who was now next to you and then at the book in his hand that belonged back on the pile. “Maybe that’s not the smartest decision.”

You weren’t even subtle about it as you leaned back on your chair and pulled out your phone. “Don’t mind me, just passing the time until class starts,” you said, fiddling with your phone in the process.

“This isn’t how we usually are,” the teacher grabbed the book out of his colleague’s hand and placed it back where it belonged. “The school year just started, and Boris might be a bit too excited.”

You raised an eyebrow at that. “I noticed,” you said, briefly shifting your attention to the book the teacher, now named Boris, was reading out loud.

The man next to you quickly raised his hands. “Not that kind of excited, just so we’re clear!”

You just gave him a thumbs up and turned back to your phone. Things might be a bit awkward from now on, but you could live with that.

~X~

Almost an hour of awkward silence broken briefly only by the teacher, Miller, giving you a list of all the books the class was meant to cover later, the students began coming in. The school kinda came to life about ten minutes ago, as more and more students rushed through the halls to their first classes. You hoped your motorcycle was still fine, the first few days at a new, well old but kinda new in this case, place were always a bit worrisome in that regard. You’d cross that bridge when you get there, if it needed to be crossed in the first place. And then, sure enough, one of the students, a girl dressed in black sweater and white shorts sat down next to you.

“I haven’t seen you around, you must be new,” she said as she settled down and opened her notebook.

Again, her voice sounded vaguely familiar, as if you used to listen to it so often as a child but then it changed as she grew up and now only some familiarity remained. Just a small hint here and there to remind you that maybe you did, in fact, know her. Which wouldn’t be surprising, they were all your age, and it was a small village, and if you remembered correctly there were three classes in your generation. Or was it four? Either way, chances were you knew at least some of your current classmates. “Yeah, hi, I’m-“ you turned to look at the girl so you could introduce yourself and your breath hitched.

She raised an eyebrow, puzzled by your reaction. She didn’t change one bit, well, sure, she wasn’t a kid anymore, but you knew exactly who the girl standing in front of you was. Her dark long hair, flowing and framing her freckle-covered face, the soft, curious eyes studying you and an easy, friendly smile, and the adorable dimples on her cheeks. There was no way you could ever forget her, and the pile of books only confirmed your suspicions. As stupid as it was, you were genuinely surprised. You saw the lights on your way back home, though you just assumed it was her parents, not her. Why was she still in this small village? Why wasn’t she out there, making the most of the potential she had? You expected to see familiar faces, but you thought you wouldn’t get to see her again, and your heart raced as fast as your motorcycle through an open road.

“Are you okay?” she asked softly, and you felt two more pairs of eyes on you now that you remained silent for too long. The teacher, as well as the girl she was with were looking at you as well, but it hardly mattered.

“I, yeah, I’m fine, Cairo,” you finally pushed the words through your dry throat. You swallowed, getting over your surprise and smiling at her as her eyes widened. “It’s been a while.” She took a better look at you, and you saw recognition in her eyes as she took your appearance in. You couldn’t blame her for taking a bit of time to recognize you, you changed a bit since she last saw you. “Y/N,” she finally said your name, though with a hint of uncertainty in her tone, and you nodded, the somewhat shy smile on your face turning into a more confident, cheeky grin. She remembered you, and while you didn’t expect to see her you couldn’t hide how happy you were. You just hoped the way the two of you left things off all those years ago wouldn’t be an obstacle to catch up at least over a coffee or tea or something.

A/N: Well, here's the start of the next story. Enjoy! Also... Taglist? Yes? No?

#cairo sweet x reader #cairo sweet #cairo sweet x female reader #cairo sweet x you #miller's girl #jenna ortega x reader #x reader

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velnna · 9 months ago

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I know you generally work fast but I'm curious on how long on average it takes for you to get out a page of ThUG? I haven't had the opportunity to read it yet (it looks SO good) but I'm making the assumption a page is the size of an average print comic style versus webtoon scroll episode length format. Also curious on what short cuts you might take to get them out faster/more efficiently. I'm currently planning a comic in a similar format and am trying to plan my process ahead.

Thank you!

I don't do whole pages in one go (I do all the thumbnails then all the lineart then all the colour) so it's hard to tell exactly how long but maybe around 3-6h per page? Which makes a chapter (25-30 ish pages) take around 150 ish hours. I definitely prefer this to the webtoon format for a number of reasons, one of which being the satisfaction you get seeing a bunch of panels come together versus having to scroll through them separately.

In terms of speed, my entire process is pretty optimised for it, both in comics and outside. I stick to an A5 format and downsize it further (I tend to work with pages at 1000px width and 300dpi) to keep myself from overworking details. If an eye closeup feels tiring to get right or loses proportion, my resolution is too high

I also use textured brushes and leave the lineart more like a clean sketch, which allows me to not only skip straight from thumbnails to it but also to skip work on backgrounds, objects and figures at a certain distance

The main point of comic work is to convey emotions, movement, etc, not to draw everything accurate all the time, and that's probably the biggest lesson I've learned over the past years. You want your art to evolve in a way that means even without a lot of shading/linework/detail the scene gets properly conveyed, imo

Aside from that, I skip work on SFX and just. Write the sounds down or sketch motion lines as basic as they get. That's a stylistic choice but it works for me. And I have a workspace + automated actions + keyboard shortcuts that are all sort of optimised to make me move as little as possible between tasks and screens etc

#ask #tutorial #the under garden comic

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angelnoe9 · 3 months ago

Text

Love beyond Deepspace

Chapter 4: A Dance in the Dark

Summary of the chapter:

Taking a familiar shortcut, you turn a corner—only to face a dead end. The alley feels different, the walls taller, the path distorted.

Then, a rustling in the shadows. Something is watching.

𓄿⊹ ࣪ ˖✧˖°๋࣭ ⭑𓄿⊹ ࣪ ˖✧˖°๋࣭ ⭑𓄿⊹ ࣪ ˖✧˖°๋࣭ ⭑𓄿⊹ ࣪ ˖✧˖°๋࣭ ⭑𓄿⊹ ࣪ ˖✧˖°๋࣭ ⭑𓄿⊹ ࣪ ˖✧˖°๋࣭ ⭑

The soft morning light filters through your curtains, casting gentle shadows across your room. Your eyes remain closed as you stir, your mind still wrapped in the remnants of sleep. Instinctively, you reach out, searching for the warmth beside you—

But there’s nothing.

Your fingers graze only the empty sheets of your own bed.

A hollow feeling settles in your chest as you open your eyes, confirming what you already suspected. You’re back in your world. The ceiling above you is familiar, your nightstand is the same, and your phone rests beside you, waiting for your attention. But something feels... off.

You lift your hand, absently pressing your fingertips to your wrist—the same place where Rafayel had grasped it last night. A lingering warmth pulses faintly under your skin, almost like an echo of his touch. You shake your head. It must be your imagination.

Riiing!

Your phone alarm jolts you from your thoughts, snapping you back to reality. Work. You have to get ready.

You sigh and sit up, rubbing your temples before pushing yourself out of bed. The morning routine flows like muscle memory—shower, makeup, coffee, breakfast. Yet, as you stand by the kitchen counter sipping your coffee, another strange sensation tugs at the edges of your awareness.

The faint scent of saltwater.

Your brows furrow. You aren’t anywhere near the ocean. And yet, for a fleeting moment, you swear you can hear the distant rush of waves.

It fades as quickly as it came, leaving you wondering if your mind is just playing tricks on you.

At work, you settle into your daily tasks, letting the rhythm of routine ground you. The occasional email, the steady typing of your keyboard, the hum of quiet office chatter—it’s all normal.

A little before lunch, with some time to spare, you pull out your phone and tap open Love and Deepspace. The familiar loading screen flashes before Rafayel’s face appears on the home screen. His eyes seem to meet yours directly.

A soft, unbidden smile tugs at your lips.

I hope I can see him again.

Just as the thought crosses your mind, Rafayel’s expression seems to shift ever so slightly. His lips curl into the faintest of smiles, almost as if he’s responding to your gaze.

Your breath catches.

For a moment, it feels like he is looking at you.

Your heart skips a beat, but you shake it off with a quiet laugh. I must be overthinking.

The day passes in a blur. Unfortunately, work drags on longer than expected, and overtime keeps you at your desk past your usual clock-out time. By the time you leave the office, exhaustion clings to your bones.

You just want to go home.

Taking the usual route will take longer, so you decide on a shortcut—a quieter path through an alley that shaves a good ten minutes off your commute. You’ve taken it before. It’s safe enough.

But tonight, the alley feels different.

The city lights flickered in the distance as you hurried down the alleyway, your breath escaping in small puffs in the cool night air. It was late—too late. Normally, this shortcut would have you home in no time, a path you’d taken countless times. But tonight… something was different. The alley felt strange, as if the walls had stretched higher, the paths twisted unnaturally. Your footsteps echoed as you turned a corner, only to find yourself at a dead end.

A rustling noise broke the silence, making you freeze.

Your eyes scanned the shadows. Then, from above, a figure swooped down—its wings slicing through the air. You gasped, stumbling back as a mechanical crow landed before you. Its sleek, dark form glowed with red eyes.

You knew this crow.

“Mephisto?” you whispered, disbelief thick in your voice.

No way. It couldn’t be. But as you stared at the crow, the sinking feeling in your stomach confirmed what your mind was refusing to accept.

Before you could fully process it, a presence emerged from the neon-lit haze at the end of the alley. A tall figure moved with fluid grace, stepping into the dim glow of a flickering streetlamp. When his crimson gaze locked onto yours, a slow, knowing smirk curled on his lips.

“Finally, we meet, Kitten.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

Sylus

He stood exactly as he did in the game, but somehow… even more imposing. His white hair caught the neon light, tousled but effortlessly framing his sharp features. The black blazer over his shoulders shifted as he moved, and the red streaks on his shirt resembled feathers, almost raptor-like in their precision.

Except now, he wasn’t just a character. He was real.

You opened your mouth, but no words came.

Sylus tilted his head, amusement glimmering in his red eyes as he observed your stunned silence. “Speechless already? And here I thought you'd at least say my name.”

His voice was deep, rich, and unmistakably real. It sent a shiver down your spine, and you tried to muster a response, but before you could, Sylus closed the distance between you in one swift motion, his arms sweeping under your legs and back.

“W-Wait—!”

Your protest was cut off as he effortlessly lifted you into a bridal carry, like you weighed nothing at all. Your heart raced in your chest, and instinctively, you grabbed onto his shirt for balance. The warmth of his body was undeniable, his grip firm yet gentle.

“Much better.” His smirk deepened, and the teasing glint in his eyes made it clear he was enjoying this far too much. “Can’t have you wandering around lost now, can we?”

You stared up at him, still processing the absurdity of it all. The faint scent of his cologne mingled with something distinctly Sylus—dangerous, intoxicating. Your brain struggled to catch up with reality, but you were no stranger to this world anymore.

Were you really surprised at this point?

As if reading your thoughts, Sylus chuckled softly. “You’re handling this surprisingly well.” His eyes gleamed with an unreadable glint. “Not even a scream? No demands for answers?”

You exhaled sharply, finally finding your voice. “Honestly… I don’t even know if I should be surprised anymore.”

That earned a low, velvety laugh from him. “Smart girl.”

With Mephisto soaring ahead, Sylus carried you effortlessly through the maze of alleyways. His strong arm kept you cradled against him, the other hand holding your heels by the strap, as if it were nothing more than a casual afterthought. The weight of your shoes in his hand only added to the surrealness of the situation. His other hand felt steady and secure around your waist, making you feel surprisingly safe despite the chaos of the moment.

Your arms instinctively wound around his neck for support, your fingers brushing against the soft fabric of his shirt. The proximity was overwhelming, and the warmth of his body made your heart flutter.

The looming silhouette of the Onychinus base soon appeared, its crimson lights reflecting off the sleek metal structures, casting an eerie glow over the area.

As you neared, it hit you—you were truly here. In the world of Love and Deepspace, within the territory of the most dangerous man in N109. And that man, currently holding you like a prized possession, was clearly savoring the moment.

A shiver ran through you—not of fear, but of anticipation.

And from the way Sylus held you, his smirk knowing and sharp, it was clear he wasn’t planning to let you go anytime soon.

Up close, the base felt even more imposing. Towering walls of reinforced steel stretched high, lined with layers of interlocking plates that gleamed under the red luminescence. It was a fortress—cold, unyielding, and built with a precision that left no room for mistakes. The only entrance visible was a massive steel gate, flanked by automated sentries, their glowing optics tracking everything that moved.

But the moment Sylus approached, the guards and security drones remained motionless. There was no need for passwords or scans—his mere presence was enough to grant him passage.

Inside, the air carried a mechanical hum, a constant undercurrent of power running through the base. The hallways were sleek, lined with hidden panels and silent surveillance. Occasional flickers of red light traced along the walls, pulsing in time with the quiet whir of unseen machinery.

Despite your initial apprehension, you couldn’t help but take in your surroundings. The space felt surreal—like stepping into the heart of a hidden empire, far removed from anything you had known. You could feel the calculated precision of it all, the power that pulsed through these walls, even if you couldn’t quite grasp its true source.

As if sensing your thoughts, Sylus let out a low chuckle. “Taking it all in, Kitten?” His voice was smooth, laced with amusement.

You turned your gaze up to him, noting the sharp glint in his crimson eyes. Even now, he was watching you carefully, studying your reactions like a predator gauging its prey.

“…It’s different from what I expected,” you admitted quietly.

His smirk deepened. “Good.”

As he carried you deeper into Onychinus, passing by corridors that twisted into unknown depths, you noticed how the few people present either avoided looking at him directly or subtly stepped aside. There was no question—this was his domain, and nothing here moved without his approval.

When he finally stepped into a more private hallway, the heavy door before you slid open with a quiet hiss. The space beyond was different.

Eventually, Sylus carried you into his private quarters, a stark contrast to the cold efficiency of the base. His bedroom was grand yet suffocatingly intimate, wrapped in dark hues and warm, flickering light. The four-poster bed stood as the centerpiece, draped in rich, black fabric that absorbed the glow of the fireplace crackling nearby. A deep red, abstract painting hung above the mantel, its bold strokes resembling the remnants of a battlefield, or perhaps something far more personal. The scent of leather and faint embers filled the air, mixing with something distinctly him.

Ornate armchairs flanked the fireplace, their dark upholstery gleaming in the dim light. A round coffee table with a blood-red surface sat near the foot of the bed, accompanied by a smaller side table where a glass of amber liquid rested, undisturbed. Bookshelves lined the walls, their contents illuminated from within—rows of leather-bound volumes, small decorative objects, and a few things that felt too curated, as if meant to hide the real treasures behind them.

Sylus approached the bed, lowering you onto the plush mattress with a deliberate slowness. Yet even as he sat beside you, his grip on your waist remained firm, fingers pressing lightly against your side. A soft thud broke the silence as he casually set your heels down beside the bed, as if only now remembering he had been carrying them all this time. His fingers lingered at your side before he finally leaned back slightly, watching you with an unreadable expression.

“I knew you had been here before,” he murmured, amusement flickering in his crimson gaze. “I saw you through Mephisto the first time you appeared.”

Your breath hitched. He had seen you?

A flicker of unease curled in your stomach. A memory surfaced—fleeting, yet vivid. That night, the first time you found yourself here, you had felt it—a presence lingering in the dark. And then—a gleam of red, watching, unblinking.

At the time, you had brushed it off as a trick of your anxious mind, a stray light in the shadows. But now…

Your fingers curled slightly against the fabric beneath you. “That was you?”

Sylus tilted his head slightly, white hair catching the dim light. “Didn’t expect you to come straight to me, though.”

You swallowed. “I didn’t exactly choose to,” you admitted. “I don’t control when I come here. One moment I’m in my world, and the next, I’m here. Then I get pulled back again.”

Sylus listened carefully, his gaze sharp and calculating as he absorbed every word.

After a moment, he exhaled, leaning back slightly. “The Deepspace Tunnel,” he murmured. “It might be the cause.”

Your brows furrowed. “The tunnel?”

He traced absent patterns against your wrist with his thumb, thoughtful. “It’s an anomaly—barely understood, even by those who claim to control it.” His eyes flickered toward you again. “But don’t overthink it too much.”

“How can I not?” you murmured.

His grip on your waist tightened slightly. “Because I said so.”

There was no arrogance in his voice—just quiet certainty.

And then, his hand moved, fingers threading through your hair in a slow, deliberate motion. His touch was unexpected, a stark contrast to his usual sharp edges.

“I’ll protect you,” he murmured. “No matter what.”

The weight in his words made your breath catch.

Before, he had seemed untouchable—dangerous, commanding. But now, something else had settled in his gaze, something warmer, something that had been waiting.

His fingers brushed along your jaw before withdrawing, but his eyes never left you. “Meeting you in person was worth the wait.”

You looked away, but you could still feel the intensity of his gaze, lingering on you as if he had no intention of looking anywhere else.

Sylus chuckled, voice low and velvety. “Shy now?”

You swallowed, unsure how to answer.

His smirk remained, but there was something unmistakably affectionate beneath it now.

You shifted slightly, hyper-aware of the warmth of his palm still resting on your waist. His touch was firm yet unhurried, fingers splayed just enough to remind you that he wasn’t letting go anytime soon. The weight of his presence beside you was almost suffocating, but not in an unpleasant way—it was something else, something deeper, something you couldn’t quite name.

Sylus tilted his head, crimson eyes scanning your face as if mapping every flicker of hesitation, every unspoken thought. His thumb brushed absently against your side, a slow, deliberate movement that sent an involuntary shiver through you.

“Still not going to look at me?” His voice was teasing, but there was an underlying softness to it now, a quiet pull beneath the usual sharpness of his words.

Your fingers curled slightly against your lap. “You’re staring too much.”

His low chuckle was a vibration against your skin. “Maybe I like the view.”

Heat crept up your neck. You could feel the smirk on his lips without even looking. He wasn’t just teasing now—he was watching, waiting, gauging your reaction like a predator testing the waters before making its next move.

And yet, despite the intensity, there was no rush. No pressure. Just Sylus, his unwavering attention, his steady hold, and the space between you that felt thinner with every breath.

You exhaled slowly, willing your pulse to steady. But with Sylus so close, his touch grounding you yet simultaneously unraveling your composure, it was impossible to ignore the slow, creeping warmth spreading through you.

“Careful,” he murmured, his voice a rich hum against your ear. “You might make me think you actually like this.”

Your breath hitched as his fingers flexed slightly against your waist, the warmth of his palm seeping through the fabric of your clothes. It was a casual hold, effortless in its possession, but the unspoken weight behind it sent something electric down your spine.

You finally turned your head, meeting his gaze. His red eyes gleamed, dark and unreadable, but there was something else there, something deeper—something that made your stomach twist in a way you weren’t sure you were ready to acknowledge.

Sylus tilted his head, smirk deepening. “There she is.”

Your lips parted slightly, but no words came. He was too close. Close enough that you could catch the faintest scent of something subtly sweet—like the lingering trace of expensive liquor on his breath.

And then, as if sensing the turmoil in your silence, Sylus lifted his hand from your waist. But before you could process the loss of warmth, he instead trailed the backs of his fingers lightly down your arm, slow and deliberate.

“You’re trembling,” he noted, amused.

“I’m not,” you lied, though the slight waver in your voice betrayed you.

He chuckled, a knowing sound that sent another rush of heat through you. Then, with the same ease he always carried, he leaned in just enough to brush a stray strand of hair from your face, his touch lingering a fraction longer than necessary.

“Liar,” he murmured.

Your breath caught in your throat as his fingers ghosted over your skin, his touch featherlight yet deliberate. The corner of Sylus’s lips twitched, amusement flickering in his crimson gaze as he studied your reaction.

"Do you always get this flustered," he mused, voice laced with quiet satisfaction, "or is it just me?"

Your fingers curled against your lap, knuckles brushing against the fabric of his sleeve. You wanted to push him away, to put some distance between you—but at the same time, the heat of his presence was intoxicating, holding you in place like a gravitational pull you couldn't resist.

“I—” You started, only to falter. Because what could you even say? That he was too close? That his touch left an imprint on your skin, even after he pulled away?

Sylus exhaled a soft laugh, low and indulgent. He leaned in again, just enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath against your temple.

"You really don't have to say anything, sweetheart." His voice was velvet, smooth and unhurried. "Your body tells me everything I need to know."

A shiver ran through you, and his smirk widened. He wasn’t letting up. Not yet.

But then, as if deciding to show mercy, Sylus finally leaned back slightly. His fingers, however, remained at your side—no longer holding you in place, but not letting go either.

"Relax," he said, the teasing edge in his voice softening just a little. "I don’t bite… unless you want me to."

Your breath hitched again, and that guy had the audacity to chuckle, clearly reveling in every little reaction he pulled from you.

You shot him a glare, though you weren’t sure how effective it was with the heat still lingering in your cheeks. Sylus, of course, only looked more entertained by your struggle. His fingers flexed slightly against your waist, a silent reminder of just how close he still was.

“I swear, you enjoy this way too much,” you muttered, shifting slightly in place in an attempt to put some distance between you. But the moment you moved, Sylus’s grip tightened—not forcefully, just enough to keep you exactly where he wanted you.

“Can you blame me?” His voice was smooth, dripping with amusement. “You’re adorable when you’re flustered.”

You huffed, but your pulse betrayed you, still thrumming a little too fast from his lingering touch.

Sylus studied you for a moment, then—finally—his hand slid away, his warmth fading too quickly. He leaned back slightly, exhaling a quiet chuckle as if indulging in some private amusement.

"Alright, alright," he said, a lazy smirk still playing at his lips. "I'll be good. For now."

You eyed him warily. "That doesn’t sound very reassuring."

Sylus chuckled, tipping his head to the side as his crimson gaze met yours once more.

"Smart girl," he murmured. "You shouldn't trust me so easily."

You couldn’t help but swallow, his words sending a shiver down your spine. You were trying to ignore how his gaze made your pulse quicken, how his proximity made it hard to think straight.

“I never said I trusted you,” you replied, trying to sound more confident than you felt. Your heart was still racing from the way he looked at you, as if he could see through all your defenses, even the ones you didn’t know you had.

Sylus’s smirk deepened, his gaze never leaving yours. He leaned in slightly, his face just inches from yours, making it impossible to ignore the tension hanging in the air between you.

“You don’t need to,” he murmured, his voice low and smooth. “But you will. Eventually.”

Before you could respond, there was a sudden shift. The room seemed to fade around you, the edges of the world blurring and distorting in a way you couldn’t comprehend.

And then, just as quickly as it had started, the world snapped back into focus. Sylus was still there, watching you, but his presence felt distant now—like something was pulling him away.

You blinked, confusion flooding your mind. "What—?"

But the words never left your lips.

The room began to fade once more, and this time, you didn’t feel the pull or the shift. You didn’t feel anything at all. The last thing you saw was Sylus’s eyes, locking onto you with an unreadable expression.

And then, everything was gone.

You blinked, a strange emptiness settling in your chest as you found yourself standing in front of your apartment door. The familiar sights of the hallway were sharp in contrast to the surreal feeling still lingering in your mind. Your hand hovered in the air, as if the memory of Sylus’s touch still clung to your skin.

It felt so wrong to be back. The warmth, the intensity of his presence—it was all gone now, replaced by the quiet hum of the real world. You could almost feel the echo of his hand resting on your waist, that subtle heat that had made you forget everything else. Now, standing here, you could only feel the coldness creeping in. The apartment, once familiar, now seemed too quiet, too still.

You wanted to turn back, to feel that closeness again, even if everything about it had been strange and unsettling. The way his gaze had never wavered, how his smirk always carried something deeper… You couldn't deny it now. You missed it. Missed him. Even after everything that happened.

But he was gone. And you were here, in this quiet hallway, with only the faintest memory of his presence.

Back in the room, Sylus sat still, his gaze fixed on the spot where you had been just moments ago.

He didn’t move, didn’t speak. He simply watched, as if waiting for something that wasn’t coming.

Just like that.

The room felt colder without you, the silence more oppressive. He had known it was possible, had anticipated it, but the reality of it still caught him off guard.

He glanced around, half-expecting you to materialize from thin air, to return as suddenly as you’d disappeared. But nothing. Only the emptiness remained.

You were here. And now you’re not.

Sylus exhaled slowly, his hand resting on the bed beside him, fingers gripping the sheets. The absence was heavier than he expected, like something was missing—a presence, a warmth he couldn’t ignore.

He didn’t know when or how you’d come back. The randomness of it all made it impossible to predict. But one thing was clear: he would wait. He wasn’t going anywhere. He didn’t know when it would be, but he’d be here, ready for the moment when you returned.

Until then, he could only wait—and somehow, he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about you until he saw you again.

𓄿⊹ ࣪ ˖✧˖°๋࣭ ⭑𓄿⊹ ࣪ ˖✧˖°๋࣭ ⭑𓄿⊹ ࣪ ˖✧˖°๋࣭ ⭑𓄿⊹ ࣪ ˖✧˖°๋࣭ ⭑𓄿⊹ ࣪ ˖✧˖°๋࣭ ⭑𓄿⊹ ࣪ ˖✧˖°๋࣭ ⭑

Taglist below.

If you would like to be added or removed from the tag list please leave a comment or send me a message.

@beaconsxd @young-adult-summer @froleineeeee @dissociativewriter @mansonofmadness @michiluvddr @m0ss-gremlin @mephisto-with-a-knife @white-wolves-and-golden-sunrises @yoongi-tunes @ladyof-themoon @jadeloverxd @shewrites247 @sinnamon-bunn @imhere2dosomething @mysticcollectionvoid @madam8 @poptrim @godoffuckedupcats @babyx91 @browneyedgirl22 @szafficat @notleclerc @crystalfay

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