#but I also get that they’re not for everyone

[mechaknight-98]

No Tomorrow (NSFW) FT Jihyo Park

Series Masterlist Here

Operator’s notes: Please not while there is a lot of plot and fluff in this story there is an insane amount of smut. Also my current longest posted fic so enjoy more Jihyo.

The lights dimmed, and the crowd's roar filled the arena, a wave of energy that sent shivers down Jihyo's spine. As the music started, her body moved effortlessly, each step, each note, perfectly synchronized with her group. But this time, something was different. There was a fire burning within her, a drive that pushed her to give more than she ever had before.

Voljune's presence was strong, their memories and emotions intertwining with hers, fueling her performance. With each beat, Jihyo felt Voljune's pride and determination course through her veins. She wasn’t just performing; she was leading, and guiding her group with a newfound strength that seemed to resonate with the very essence of the music.

As the chorus hit, Jihyo glanced out into the crowd, her eyes scanning the sea of faces. And then, she saw him. Dio, standing near the front, his smile radiant as he danced along with the music. His presence was a beacon, a source of light that filled her with warmth.

*“Look at him,”* Voljune’s voice echoed in her mind, soft and admiring. *“He’s so happy, so free. We need to protect that, Jihyo.”*

*“We will,”* Jihyo replied internally, her heart swelling with emotion. *“No matter what it takes, we’ll keep him safe. He deserves this happiness, and we’ll ensure he keeps it.”*

The thought of Dio, his laughter, and his joy, gave Jihyo a renewed sense of purpose. She could feel Voljune’s memories of survival, of pushing through impossible odds, blending with her own desire to succeed. It wasn’t just about being the best; it was about being the best for them—for Dio, for Twice, for everyone who believed in her.

With a final burst of energy, Jihyo led the group into the climax of the performance, her voice soaring, her movements more powerful than ever. The crowd responded, their cheers vibrating through the stage, a tangible confirmation of the connection she had forged with them.

As the final note lingered in the air, Jihyo stood tall, her chest heaving with exertion, but her heart full. She glanced at Dio one last time, and his beaming smile was all the reward she needed.

*“We’re stronger together,”* Voljune whispered, the warmth of their shared bond enveloping Jihyo.

*“And we’ll keep getting stronger,”* Jihyo thought back, determination burning brightly within her. *“For him, for us, for everything we’re fighting for.”*

After the performance and a few celebratory drinks with the other members, Jihyo headed home, her body buzzing with the high of the night. The energy from the stage, the cheers of the crowd, and the warmth of her group’s love still swirled in her chest as she entered the code for their small place.

As the door clicked open, a wave of something unexpected surged through her—desire, anticipation. Voljune stirred within her, not just an idle whisper in the back of her mind but a powerful presence, closer than usual. Jihyo paused at the doorway, her hand gripping the handle as an unspoken sensation coursed between them.

Voljune’s voice broke through, her tone unsteady, *“I... I’m feeling something strange. Your hormones, Jihyo... they’re spiking.”*

Jihyo blinked, slightly amused by the reaction. *“What do you mean?”*

*“You’re about to start ovulating,”* Voljune responded, her voice husky, edged with something unfamiliar. *“I’ve never felt anything like this before... this intensity. I don’t know if I’ll be able to control myself around Dio.”*

Jihyo chuckled softly, her hand relaxing on the door. *“Oh, I think he won’t mind. You know how he is.”* The thought of Dio brought warmth to her chest, a feeling of safety and love that grounded her. She pushed the door open fully and stepped inside, quieting her footsteps as she walked down the hallway to their shared bedroom.

The soft glow from the moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting a gentle silver hue across the room. Dio lay peacefully asleep, his broad frame sprawled comfortably across the bed. His breathing was slow, rhythmic, and calming, and Jihyo’s heart swelled at the sight of him. For a moment, she just stood there, watching him. His presence felt like home—a grounding force amidst the chaos of her life.

*“He looks so at peace,”* Voljune murmured, her voice softer now, full of wonder. *“You’re right... he shouldn’t be alive, after everything. But... I’m happy he is.”*

Jihyo smiled, her heart warming at Voljune’s admission. *“Me too,”* she whispered.

She quietly set down her things and tiptoed to the bathroom, slipping into the shower. The warm water cascaded over her, easing the lingering tension in her muscles from the performance. As the steam enveloped her, she reflected on the conversation with Voljune. She could feel how Voljune’s emotions were intertwined with hers more deeply now—the shared pulse of excitement, desire, even curiosity. Voljune had never experienced these human urges in such a raw, immediate way. It was as if their bond was evolving, becoming something more intricate, more unified.

Jihyo stepped out of the shower, dried herself off, and slipped into something comfortable. Quietly, she padded back into the bedroom, the soft shuffle of her feet barely disturbing the stillness.

Sliding into bed beside Dio, she felt the familiar warmth of his body against hers. The moment she pressed herself against his back, a deep contentment settled over her. She spooned him gently, her arm draping over his waist, her fingers resting against his chest. Dio stirred slightly in his sleep, his hand unconsciously moving to rest atop hers. Even in his dreams, he sought her out.

*“You know,”* Jihyo whispered internally to Voljune, *“I’ve thought about this a lot. About how he defies everything we know. He’s stronger than he should be. He’s survived things no one else could.”*

Voljune hummed in agreement, their shared thoughts rippling between them like waves. *“It’s more than that though, isn’t it? There’s something about him. Something... beyond us, beyond even my kind.”*

Jihyo’s fingers tightened slightly on Dio’s chest, her mind drifting as she buried her face into the curve of his back. *“Whatever it is, I’m just glad he’s here. Alive. With us.”*

*“So am I,”* Voljune replied softly, her tone full of conviction. *“We’ll protect him, Jihyo. No matter what.”*

As Jihyo’s body relaxed against Dio’s, she felt the subtle, quiet connection between the three of them—herself, Dio, and Voljune—all bound together by something stronger than mere survival. It was love, in its most primal, most protective form.

And in that moment, as she drifted closer to sleep, Jihyo knew that no matter the challenges ahead, they were stronger together. There was nothing she wouldn’t do for the man peacefully resting beside her—and nothing Voljune wouldn’t do either.

As she embraced him she felt a bizarre texture on his chest. She traced the pattern and a memory flashed into her mind:

As Jihyo’s fingers traced the bizarre pattern on Diabolos’s chest, a sudden wave of foreign memories crashed through her mind, sharp and vivid. She felt Voljune stirring, pulling her consciousness back, and before she could react, the world around her shifted.

The scent of iron and blood filled the air. The echo of ragged breathing and distant screams rang in her ears.

It wasn’t her memory—this was Voljune’s.

Jihyo blinked, disoriented, but the scene before her was all too real. She was no longer in the comfort of her shared bedroom with Dio. Instead, she stood in a cold, dimly lit room—a sterile, metallic chamber that hummed with faint energy, like a place where no warmth could survive.

Diabolos stood at the center, his body hunched over in agony. His skin was pale, and slick with sweat, and his breath came in uneven gasps. His chest, once powerful and broad, was heaving as though something was trying to tear its way out from within. His eyes, normally so full of life, were wide and wild, as though he were trapped inside his own body, fighting against an invisible force.

Voljune, or at least a younger version of her, stood helplessly at the edge of the room, bound by the laws of her kind. She could only watch as her sibling, Ruhan, ripped through Dio’s flesh in a grotesque display of parasitic horror.

Jihyo, feeling every bit of Voljune’s fear and disgust, was frozen in the memory. Her mind screamed, No, not him!

Diabolos’s body convulsed violently, his muscles spasming as the skin on his chest bulged unnaturally. With a sickening crack, something inside him shifted—something dark, monstrous. And then it happened. His chest split open with a wet, gruesome tear, blood splattering the floor as Ruhan, Voljune’s sibling, began to force their way out. He sensed the power of the chained Narset nearby and craved it so he did what he always did he found a new host.

Ruhan wasn’t a being of grace like Voljune. They were savage, and feral, driven by the need to bond with something more powerful, something that could feed their endless hunger for strength. Narset had called to them—promised them dominance, power beyond imagination—and Ruhan had answered.

As Ruhan’s form writhed free of Diabolos’s body, they were like a mass of sinew and tendrils, a horrifying amalgamation of parasitic flesh. Dio’s screams of pain echoed through the chamber, reverberating off the cold metal walls. The sound was pure agony, a sound that could tear through even the most hardened hearts. Narset watched the fire rage inside of her pupil's eyes as he fought to stay alive.

Voljune, still bound by the laws of their kind, watched in horror as her sibling abandoned the man she had grown so attached to. She had known this moment would come—had felt the tension building for weeks as Narset’s presence grew stronger—but she hadn’t been ready for the sheer violence of it. Ruhan had used Dio, fed on him, and then discarded him like a broken vessel.

Narset stood at the far side of the room, her eyes gleaming with twisted terror as Ruhan slithered to her Chained body. She tried to run away and hoped that she could do anything but Ruhan was moving closer.

“No!” Voljune screamed within Jihyo’s mind. “Dio... don’t let them... please... fight it...” But even as she begged, she knew it was futile. The Severing was nearly complete. The process was supposed to kill the host, leaving nothing behind but an empty shell.

But Diabolos—he wasn’t like anyone else. Even in his weakest moments, his will was indomitable.

Ruhan fully detached from Diabolos, their grotesque form slithering toward Narset. The room was silent for a moment, save for Diabolos’s labored breathing and the gagging of Narset as Ruhan forced himself into Narset. Dio's chest was a ruin of blood and torn flesh, but he was still alive. He shouldn’t have been, but there he stood, his body trembling as he fought to stay conscious.

And then, with a strength that shouldn’t have been possible, Diabolos pushed himself up from his knees, his hand gripping his chest where Ruhan had torn free. His eyes blazed with fury, cutting through the haze of pain. His entire body radiated with an unnatural force, something deeper than physical power—born of his sheer will to survive.

He staggered forward, toward Narset and Ruhan, his lips curled into a snarl.

“I’m not done yet,” Diabolos growled, his voice hoarse but filled with venom.

Narset turned, now fully merged as one surprised to see him still standing. For a moment, even she faltered. She had underestimated him—underestimated the force of his spirit. But before Diabolos could make another move, his body collapsed, his strength finally giving out.

Voljune rushed forward, her own form stretching toward him, desperate to stop the bleeding, desperate to help him survive. But Narset’s laugh echoed through the chamber, cold and mocking. “You see, Voljune? He’s already lost. He’s nothing without me.”

Voljune couldn’t respond, couldn’t even speak. She could only focus on Diabolos, on keeping him alive. She pressed her essence into him, trying to heal the worst of the damage, trying to save what little was left of the man she had grown to care for.

As the memory began to fade, Jihyo was pulled back into the present, the familiar warmth of her bedroom returning. She found herself lying beside Dio once more, her hand still resting gently on his chest where the faint scars of the Severing remained. The horror of the memory lingered in her mind, but so did one undeniable truth:

He had survived, and that was enough for now as she snuggled closer to him, and found comfort in his warmth.

The next morning Dio got up early and went over his website to manage any of the recent orders then sent the confirmation and payment to his embroiderer so the clothes could be ready to ship. After that, he decided to make breakfast for Jihyo. Jihyo and Voljune woke up a little later to the smell of cooked meat and a few other sweet-smelling scents, but they couldn’t process that as Jihyo’s body was deep in the throes of desire and lust. She got with a ravenous hunger that food couldn’t fill. She needed dick. Luckily for her, her favorite one was just outside.

She stripped down to her bra and panties before walking outside where she watched Dio with rapacious eyes. Dio was so caught up in cooking though that he didn’t notice the gaze of a hungry lioness watching him. He didn’t notice her inching closer as he finished until she pounced on him when he had finished the dishes.

He was startled when Jihyo grabbed his shoulders before turning him around and violently kissing him. She smelled good to him almost irresistibly so. This was in part due to Voljune knowing Dio and what made his heart race, and making Jihyo’s pheromones mimic it.

“God you smell so good,” Dio said as his head swam with lust. Jihyo smiled as his eyes lost focus. She rubbed her thighs together in anticipation, before grabbing him and bringing him into another sloppy kiss. Voljune couldn’t hold back anymore as she dialed up her and Jihyo’s sensitivity to as high as it could go. When she broke this kiss and stared at Dio he didn’t see Jihyo or even Voljune he saw his woman radiating sex as she beckoned him back to their bedroom. Jihyo smiled before locking the door.

“You’re not leaving this room until you can’t get it up.” She said before finding his box of condoms and throwing them out of the room. Dio gulped terrified and turned on. His dick painfully erect peeked through his pants. Jihyo smiled as she closed the distance while taking her bra off. When she climbed on the bed the only thing on both of her minds was draining Dio dry.

“Are you ready?” Jihyo said in an almost lullaby tone which reached the dazed Dio. He nodded slowly making Jihyo smile as she pulled down his sweatpants freeing his cock. Jihyo began to lick the underside of his shaft going from base to tip. Slowly she would trace his cock’s silhouette with her tongue and he’d watch the excruciating torture tear his brain apart and mend it barely back with the pleasure she granted.

“Fuck Jihyo just ride me I can’t take it anymore!” Dio growled as his erection became painful from her work. Jihyo smiled accepting his readiness. She crawled to his face and looked into his eyes. All she could see was a deep lust that mirrored how she felt. She smiled and said,

“Oh, you really want me. You must love me,” she said happily. Dio eyes rolled back as she aligned him with her pussy and slowly sank down. When their hips became flush Jihyo moaned in ecstasy. “Fuck!!! you fill me so well,” Jihyo screamed before slowly bucking her hips trying to adjust how her walls cling to Dio’s cock and she can barely contain the pleasure radiating off of her. It was too much and after three bounces she was cumming all over Dio’s cock, but lucky for her Voljune had her back and her body was ready to go in seconds.

“Okay Dio Fuck me,” Jihyo said and Dio began thrusting into her. His hands rested on her sexy hips and abs as he thrust in and out of her. Jihyo was a sodden wailing mess, as she fell deeper and deeper into the ocean of pleasure Dio and Voljune were giving her. Voljune was also delirious from it all as she felt all of what Jihyo felt. Dio in a weak attempt at revenge reciprocated the same slow tortuous pace Jihyo had subjected him to as she could barely keep it together while he pounded her deep.

“Fuck you’re hitting my G-spot,” Jihyo moaned as she came again. She looked down and pulled Dio to be on top of her, as she wrapped his legs around him.

“Fuck me, please!” Jihyo begged Diabolos.

“Please fucking cum in me,” Jihyo says as her pussy contacts tighter massaging a potent large load out of him. Jihyo is heaving trying to catch her breath but Voljune takes over and for the first time truly feels Jihyo's body as her she wraps her hands around her chest and slowly drifts to her clit.

“Fuck this body is so lewd,” she says

“These swollen plump breasts. This firm soft ass. Fuck this sopping sodden mess between my legs.” Voljune moans. Her words force another erection in Dio and Voljune loses it.

“God yes. Fuck make us serve no other purpose than to be your semen repository. Drown my pussy in your cum. Voljune watches with lusty glee as Dio plows into her. She watches the way her breasts jiggle and reaches out to suck on the left one while Dio continues plowing her pretty pussy. Voljune convulses as another orgasm takes her body. Unable to go any further she tries to convince herself that she can milk another orgasm out of Dio but her body is too tired to and heaving for breath. She smiles along with Jihyo at Dio who’s still hard staring at her magnificent body. Just as she tries to mount another round Jihyo’s phone goes off. Jihyo groaned softly as she looked at her phone, the familiar name lighting up the screen: Dahyun. She glanced over at Diabolos, his presence still filling the room with the lingering intensity of their earlier moment. His body, all burly and imposing, was still poised, but there was something different now. His sharp, almost predatory gaze from earlier had softened considerably. He was smiling at her, but this time, it wasn’t the fierce, consuming look that had sent heat coursing through her veins. Instead, there was a boyish sweetness to his expression—a gentle, almost shy joy that seemed to settle into the lines of his face.

"Hey, Dubu," Jihyo answered, still catching her breath from the earlier tension, "what's going on?"

Dahyun’s bright voice came through the speaker, full of energy as always. "Hey, unnie! DJ, Chewy, and I are going to that restaurant we were talking about—you want to join with Dio?"

Jihyo ran her hand through her hair, eyes drifting back to Diabolos. He was still watching her with that same tempered smile, the type of smile that made her heart squeeze in a completely different way than his fiery, more possessive looks did. It was warm, and content. His energy now was far from the imposing presence he so often carried. He seemed soft, relaxed—almost childlike in his joy like he was perfectly at peace just being here with her.

A soft sigh escaped her lips, her gaze lingering on the scar that was etched across his chest. It was a stark reminder of the battles he had fought—both the physical ones and the internal wars she could only imagine. And yet, here he was, his fierce nature temporarily melted into something far more innocent, far more gentle.

“We have unfinished business with him,” Voljune’s voice purred in the back of her mind, her presence filled with immense desire. Jihyo could feel the yearning, the deep pull Voljune had towards Diabolos. It mirrored her own, but there was something more primal in Voljune’s desires, something raw that echoed through their shared bond. Jihyo nodded internally, fully aware of what both she and Voljune wanted to resume. But she was also acutely aware that they hadn’t hung out with their members in what felt like forever.

I want this too, Jihyo thought to herself, her eyes flicking back to Diabolos, who was now stretching lazily, his muscles flexing in a way that made her breath catch again. But there was something equally important in reconnecting with her friends. The love she had for her members was a different kind, but no less essential.

"Sure, we'll be there," Jihyo said happily into the phone, and even though Voljune grumbled internally, there was a sense of agreement. There would be time later for their unfinished business.

Diabolos’s inquisitive gaze followed the shift in her mood. His expression was curious as if sensing the subtle tug-of-war happening within her. "What is it, Yo-yo?" he asked, his voice soft and affectionate, using the nickname that always made her smile.

Jihyo’s heart fluttered at his gentle tone. "Well, Chewy, DJ, and Dubu are going to that K-BBQ restaurant we’ve been talking about," she explained, watching his reaction closely.

His face lit up instantly, a look of pure joy and excitement spreading across his features. The fierceness that was always just beneath the surface melted away completely, replaced by an almost childlike enthusiasm. It was such a stark contrast from the Diabolos she had first met—the one who had been all sharp edges and unrelenting intensity. Now, he was like a kid hearing his favorite friends were coming over to play.

“Oh really?” he said, his tone full of that soft, appreciative joy that always made Jihyo’s heart swell. Voljune stirred within her, the feeling of their connection rippling with warmth as they both observed Diabolos’s shift. His excitement wasn’t just for the food—it was the idea of being with people he cared about, being part of something light and easy.

He is so innocent sometimes, Voljune remarked with gentle affection, her usual hunger tempered by a kind of adoration Jihyo hadn’t felt from her before. It was as if the two of them—Jihyo and Voljune—were seeing a side of Diabolos that softened their edges, made them feel as if they, too, were capable of loving in this childlike, almost pure way.

Jihyo giggled softly, both she and Voljune feeling a surge of playful fondness. "Well, we are. They invited us, so let's get clean and get ready."

Diabolos grinned at her, his joy radiating through the room, and without hesitation, he got up to head for the shower. But before he could disappear into the bathroom, Jihyo reached out and grabbed his arm, pulling him back gently. There was a flicker of something deeper in her eyes now, a smoldering heat that hadn’t fully disappeared despite the shift in mood. She knew that even in these tender, innocent moments, there was always something stronger, more primal beneath the surface between them.

Her gaze locked with his, and she smiled, her voice dropping to a lower, more seductive tone. “We will continue this later,” she promised, her words laced with an unmistakable intensity. Voljune echoed her, their voices harmonizing in unison within her mind, both filled with the same burning desire.

Diabolos’s eyes darkened briefly, a flicker of that familiar fire returning, but he only smiled, leaning down to kiss her forehead softly. “I’m holding you to that,” he murmured before slipping away into the bathroom.

Jihyo watched him go, her thoughts still buzzing with the silent conversation she shared with Voljune. The two of them were so aligned in this moment, both feeling the same deep love for the man who had somehow become their everything. Even in the playful, childlike joy that Diabolos exuded, there was a part of them that wanted to protect him fiercely, to hold onto this tenderness they shared and keep it safe from the darkness that often threatened to consume them all.

As the sound of the shower started, Jihyo smiled to herself, knowing that tonight, they would laugh, eat, and share joy with their friends—but later, there would be time for more. Time to continue what had been so deliciously interrupted.

Jihyo stood in front of the mirror, fixing her hair as she heard the soft hum of the shower water in the next room. Her reflection caught the warmth in her eyes, the lingering blush that hadn't quite left her cheeks after her earlier exchange with Diabolos. The excitement of seeing her members—her other family—combined with the quiet thrill of being with Diabolos like this made her feel a warmth deep in her chest.

“He has softened, hasn’t he?” Voljune mused, her voice cutting through Jihyo’s thoughts. “He was once all fire and intensity. But now... look at him. He’s so content with just being here with us, with you.”

Jihyo smiled, nodding as she dabbed a bit of perfume on her wrist. “I’ve noticed,” she replied internally. “It’s like he’s a different person when we’re alone like this. There’s still all that strength, all that power, but it’s so... gentle now.”

“And he’s so in love with you,” Voljune said with a soft chuckle. “It’s adorable. That energy of his used to be so imposing, so aggressive. Now? He just radiates joy when he’s with you, almost like a little kid.”

Jihyo laughed aloud as she glanced back at the closed bathroom door. “Yeah, it’s kind of cute how he lights up around our friends, too. I think it reminds him of something simpler, something more innocent.” She leaned against the dresser, arms folded, thinking about how Diabolos had changed since they’d started dating. It was as if being around her, and by extension, her members had chipped away at some of the harshnesses he’d built up over the years.

The water stopped, and a few moments later, Diabolos emerged from the bathroom, his hair still damp, beads of water clinging to his broad shoulders. He was wrapped in a towel, steam trailing behind him as he entered the room. His eyes found Jihyo immediately, softening with that boyish joy she had come to love.

“You look beautiful, Yo-yo,” he said, his voice deep and affectionate.

Jihyo blushed, smiling at him through the mirror. “Thank you. You should get dressed—we don’t want to be late.”

Diabolos laughed lightly, his smile widening. “Right, don’t want to keep the crew waiting.”

As he got dressed, Jihyo watched him out of the corner of her eye. There was something about how easily he moved now, how comfortable he seemed in his skin. It was a stark contrast to the rigid, almost guarded way he had carried himself when they first met. Now, his presence was still powerful but tempered with a softness that matched her energy. She could feel it, the way their energies intertwined so seamlessly now.

“He’s more like us than I ever thought,” Voljune remarked. “That playful love of life, how he cares so deeply for the people around him. It’s different from his old intensity, but it suits him.”

Jihyo nodded, internally agreeing with Voljune’s sentiment. Diabolos had always been strong, and intense, but it was this new side of him—this softer, more open version—that made her fall in love with him even more.

Finally ready, the two of them left the apartment and began their walk to the restaurant. The streets were buzzing with the usual evening energy, the soft hum of cars, and the chatter of people filling the air. Jihyo reached for Diabolos’ hand instinctively, lacing her fingers through his. His hand, though much larger and rougher than hers, fit perfectly, the warmth between them so natural.

As they walked, the conversation flowed easily.

“Do you think Chewy will challenge the chef tonight?” Jihyo asked with a laugh, thinking back to their last dinner where Tzuyu had, with her signature deadpan expression, offered her cooking suggestions to the head chef.

Diabolos chuckled. “I wouldn’t put it past her. She’s got that quiet confidence. It’s like she knows she’s the best at whatever she sets her mind to.”

Jihyo giggled, nodding. “You’re right. But Dahyun’s going to egg her on, for sure. You know how she is—always stirring up trouble just to see Chewy get flustered.”

Voljune interjected, her tone light and amused. “Dahyun’s mischief is delightful. I think she secretly loves how riled up she can make Tzuyu. They’re such a fun pair to watch.”

Jihyo agreed, smiling as she squeezed Diabolos’ hand a little tighter. “I’m so glad we get to see them tonight. It feels like it’s been forever.”

Diabolos glanced down at her, his eyes full of warmth. “Yeah, it’s been too long. I’ve missed hanging out with them too.” He paused for a moment, then added softly, “I like how they make you laugh. You always seem so light and carefree around them.”

Jihyo’s heart swelled at his words. “They do, don’t they? I think it’s because we’ve all been through so much together. They know me better than almost anyone else.”

Voljune hummed in agreement. “They ground you, in a way. It’s good for both of us—being around them. And it’s good for Diabolos, too. They bring out this pure joy in him, something that we both cherish.”

As they walked, the conversation shifted to lighter topics, reminiscing about past moments with the members, and laughing at shared memories. Jihyo and Voljune, internally, marveled at how Diabolos was so effortlessly in sync with them, how his softer side blended perfectly with Jihyo’s energy. Even as they joked and teased, there was an unspoken flirty dialogue weaving between the three of them—a shared connection that needed no words.

Diabolos caught her looking at him and raised an eyebrow. “What is it, Yo-yo?”

Jihyo just smiled, shaking her head slightly. “Nothing. Just... happy.”

He grinned, squeezing her hand. “Me too.”

They continued walking in comfortable silence, enjoying the cool evening air and each other’s company. As they neared the restaurant, the neon sign glowing in the distance, Jihyo felt a deep sense of peace wash over her. She had her members, her friends, and this man—this man who had become her everything.

Voljune’s presence buzzed warmly within her, echoing her thoughts. “We’re in a good place. I like where we are, Yo-yo.”

Jihyo smiled internally, feeling Voljune’s contentment mix with her own. “Yeah, we are.”

Jihyo stood in front of the mirror, fixing her hair as she heard the soft hum of the shower water in the next room. Her reflection caught the warmth in her eyes, the lingering blush that hadn't quite left her cheeks after her earlier exchange with Diabolos. The excitement of seeing her members—her other family—combined with the quiet thrill of being with Diabolos like this made her feel a warmth deep in her chest.

“He has softened, hasn’t he?” Voljune mused, her voice cutting through Jihyo’s thoughts. “He was once all fire and intensity. But now... look at him. He’s so content with just being here with us, with you.”

Jihyo smiled, nodding as she dabbed a bit of perfume on her wrist. “I’ve noticed,” she replied internally. “It’s like he’s a different person when we’re alone like this. There’s still all that strength, all that power, but it’s so... gentle now.”

“And he’s so in love with you,” Voljune said with a soft chuckle. “It’s adorable. That energy of his used to be so imposing, so aggressive. Now? He just radiates joy when he’s with you, almost like a little kid.”

Jihyo laughed aloud as she glanced back at the closed bathroom door. “Yeah, it’s kind of cute how he lights up around our friends, too. I think it reminds him of something simpler, something more innocent.” She leaned against the dresser, arms folded, thinking about how Diabolos had changed since they’d started dating. It was as if being around her, and by extension, her members had chipped away at some of the harshnesses he’d built up over the years.

The water stopped, and a few moments later, Diabolos emerged from the bathroom, his hair still damp, beads of water clinging to his broad shoulders. He was wrapped in a towel, steam trailing behind him as he entered the room. His eyes found Jihyo immediately, softening with that boyish joy she had come to love.

“You look beautiful, Yo-yo,” he said, his voice deep and affectionate.

Jihyo blushed, smiling at him through the mirror. “Thank you. You should get dressed—we don’t want to be late.”

Diabolos laughed lightly, his smile widening. “Right, don’t want to keep the crew waiting.”

As he got dressed, Jihyo watched him out of the corner of her eye. There was something about how easily he moved now, how comfortable he seemed in his own skin. It was a stark contrast to the rigid, almost guarded way he had carried himself when they first met. Now, his presence was still powerful but tempered with a softness that matched her own energy. She could feel it, the way their energies intertwined so seamlessly now.

“He’s more like us than I ever thought,” Voljune remarked. “That playful love of life, how he cares so deeply for the people around him. It’s different from his old intensity, but it suits him.”

Jihyo nodded, internally agreeing with Voljune’s sentiment. Diabolos had always been strong, and intense, but it was this new side of him—this softer, more open version—that made her fall in love with him even more.

Finally ready, the two of them left the apartment and began their walk to the restaurant. The streets were buzzing with the usual evening energy, the soft hum of cars, and the chatter of people filling the air. Jihyo reached for Diabolos’ hand instinctively, lacing her fingers through his. His hand, though much larger and rougher than hers, fit perfectly, the warmth between them so natural.

As they walked, the conversation flowed easily.

“Do you think Chewy will rechallenge the chef tonight?” Jihyo asked with a laugh, thinking back to their last dinner where Tzuyu had, with her signature deadpan expression, offered her own cooking suggestions to the head chef.

Diabolos chuckled. “I wouldn’t put it past her. She’s got that quiet confidence. It’s like she knows she’s the best at whatever she sets her mind to.”

Jihyo giggled, nodding. “You’re right. But Dahyun’s going to egg her on, for sure. You know how she is—always stirring up trouble just to see Chewy get flustered.”

Voljune interjected, her tone light and amused. “Dahyun’s mischief is delightful. I think she secretly loves how riled up she can make Tzuyu. They’re such a fun pair to watch.”

Jihyo agreed, smiling as she squeezed Diabolos’ hand a little tighter. “I’m so glad we get to see them tonight. It feels like it’s been forever.”

Diabolos glanced down at her, his eyes full of warmth. “Yeah, it’s been too long. I’ve missed hanging out with them too.” He paused for a moment, then added softly, “I like how they make you laugh. You always seem so light and carefree around them.”

Jihyo’s heart swelled at his words. “They do, don’t they? I think it’s because we’ve all been through so much together. They know me better than almost anyone else.”

Voljune hummed in agreement. “They ground you, in a way. It’s good for both of us—being around them. And it’s good for Diabolos, too. They bring out this pure joy in him, something that we both cherish.”

As they walked, the conversation shifted to lighter topics, reminiscing about past moments with the members, and laughing at shared memories. Jihyo and Voljune, internally, marveled at how Diabolos was so effortlessly in sync with them, how his softer side blended perfectly with Jihyo’s energy. Even as they joked and teased, there was an unspoken flirty dialogue weaving between the three of them—a shared connection that needed no words.

Diabolos caught her looking at him and raised an eyebrow. “What is it, Yo-yo?”

Jihyo just smiled, shaking her head slightly. “Nothing. Just... happy.”

He grinned, squeezing her hand. “Me too.”

They continued walking in comfortable silence, enjoying the cool evening air and each other’s company. As they neared the restaurant, the neon sign glowing in the distance, Jihyo felt a deep sense of peace wash over her. She had her members, her friends, and this man—this man who had become her everything.

Voljune’s presence buzzed warmly within her, echoing her thoughts. “We’re in a good place. I like where we are, Yo-yo.”

Jihyo smiled internally, feeling Voljune’s contentment mix with her own. “Yeah, we really are.”

As the group talks Jihyo begins to feel lightheaded as her hormones start striking again. She looks to Dio and says, “Hey babe I need to go the restroom can you help me,” every people pleaser he follows when Jihyo locks him in and forcefully grabs his cock he understands. Jihyo and Voljune are barely coherent enough to have his dick go in the right hole as Jihyo bends over the sink

“We have to be quick!” Dio asserts

Jihyo nods at her lust-addled brain. Dio quickly rams into her tight hole. Jihyo can only whimper as he takes her. Enraptured by her body he secures a tit and massages it spiking both their pleasure.

At this rate, Jihyo and Voljune don't last long before they cum again. Dio exits her and cleans them up a bit when Jihyo’s mind returns.

Her gaze is possessive as she says, “I'm going to need more from you when we get back home.” Dio smiles as they head back out. The rest of their little date is pretty brief after that. After the date, Jihyo Voljune and Dio were exhausted and instead of counting their fun they got a good night's sleep and hoped to release some more tension tomorrow

It was a rare lazy morning at Jihyo and Diabolos’ small, cozy apartment. The sun streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow across the living room. Diabolos was sprawled out on the couch, absentmindedly flipping through channels while Jihyo leaned against him, scrolling through her phone. Their bodies fit perfectly together as if they were always meant to be in this peaceful bubble.

*“I wish we could stay like this all day,”* Voljune whispered in Jihyo’s mind, the warmth of contentment wrapping around them both. *“No interruptions. Just us.”*

Jihyo couldn’t agree more. After the whirlwind of their dinner last night, she was hoping today could be quiet—a much-needed day of rest with just Diabolos. She smiled as she watched Dio drift in and out of sleep next to her.

But then, the doorbell rang.

Jihyo groaned softly, knowing full well who it could be. Only one person rang the doorbell with such enthusiasm. Voljune sighed in unison with her, a ripple of frustration passing between them. Diabolos glanced down at Jihyo, sensing the shift in energy.

“Who could that be?” he asked, sitting up.

Jihyo gave him a knowing look. “Take a wild guess.”

The doorbell rang again, followed by a series of playful knocks. Diabolos chuckled as he stood, pulling Jihyo up with him. “Let me guess—Nayeon?”

“Yup,” Jihyo replied with an exasperated smile, but there was affection behind it. *“She always knows when to show up at the worst possible time.”*

Voljune huffed in agreement. *“We were supposed to have the day to ourselves.”*

As Jihyo opened the door, she was greeted by a beaming Nayeon and her equally cheerful boyfriend, Mark. Nayeon wasted no time, pushing past Jihyo into the apartment.

“Hey, Jihyo-yah!” Nayeon exclaimed, her voice full of energy. “Mark and I were in the neighborhood, and we thought, why not drop by?” She grinned mischievously. “You weren’t busy, were you?”

Mark offered a sheepish smile from behind her, clearly used to Nayeon’s spontaneous visits. “Hope we’re not interrupting.”

Jihyo crossed her arms, trying to maintain a facade of annoyance. “Well, actually—”

Diabolos, ever the gentle giant, stepped forward and offered a warm smile to the pair. “It’s fine, really. Come on in.”

Jihyo shot him a look that said *Really?* but her irritation quickly faded. Nayeon was already making herself at home, tossing her bag onto the chair and plopping down on the couch next to Diabolos. Mark followed suit, though with a bit more hesitation, clearly aware of the unspoken tension in the room.

Voljune chimed in again, a hint of amusement creeping into her tone. *“You know what? It’s fine. Let’s just let it go. Nayeon brings a certain... chaotic joy, doesn’t she?”*

Jihyo sighed but smiled inwardly. *“Yeah, I guess she does.”* She couldn’t stay mad at Nayeon for long, and besides, her best friend’s presence was infectious. As much as she craved peace, she also loved how Nayeon always brought life and laughter wherever she went.

“So, what are we doing today?” Nayeon asked, completely oblivious to the plans Jihyo and Diabolos may have had. “We should totally have a movie marathon! Or maybe play some games!”

Diabolos chuckled, clearly entertained by Nayeon’s boundless energy. “A movie marathon sounds good to me.”

Jihyo rolled her eyes playfully, giving in to the inevitable. “Alright, fine. But *I* get to pick the first movie.”

Nayeon gasped dramatically. “Jihyo picking the movie? That’s a dangerous game, Dio. She’ll have us watching tearjerkers all day.”

Jihyo swatted at Nayeon’s arm, laughing. “You act like my taste is that bad.”

Mark, always the calm voice of reason, chimed in. “I don’t know, Nayeon. I think Jihyo has pretty good taste. What about a compromise—something everyone can enjoy?”

As they bantered back and forth, Jihyo’s initial frustration melted away, replaced by a warm sense of belonging. This was her family, her people. Nayeon’s chaotic energy, Mark’s calming influence, and Diabolos’ quiet presence all balanced each other out in the best way possible.

*“See?”* Voljune murmured, her earlier frustration now completely gone. *“This is why we love them. It’s never quiet, but it’s always fun.”*

Before Jihyo could respond, her phone buzzed on the coffee table. She glanced down at the screen and groaned inwardly.

“Speak of the devil,” she muttered as she saw the group chat light up with notifications from the rest of the members. Dahyun, Mina, Chaeyoung, Sana, and Jeongyeon were all chiming in, asking if they could come over too.

“Oh no,” Jihyo said, eyes widening as she realized what was happening. “Nayeon, did you tell everyone we were hanging out?”

Nayeon shrugged nonchalantly. “I might’ve mentioned it in the group chat...”

Jihyo facepalmed, but she couldn’t help but laugh. *“Well, there goes our quiet day.”*

Diabolos laughed softly, wrapping an arm around Jihyo’s shoulders and pulling her close. “It’s alright. The more, the merrier, right?”

Jihyo leaned into him, smiling despite herself. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

Within the next hour, the apartment was buzzing with energy. Dahyun showed up with DJ and Tzuyu in tow, carrying bags of snacks and drinks. Jeongyeon arrived with a mischievous grin, already scheming some sort of prank with Dahyun. Sana arrived latched to Broly’s hip with her trademark bubbly personality and champagne. Momo brought Daizohan. Chaeyoung and Mina were the last to arrive, holding hands and giggling like they were in on a secret as their boyfriends followed behind with quiet appreciative smiles.

As the apartment filled with laughter, conversation, and the smells of takeout, Jihyo looked around at her members, their partners, and Diabolos beside her, her heart swelling with warmth.

*“It’s chaotic,”* Voljune said softly, her tone full of affection. *“But it’s our chaos.”*

Jihyo nodded internally. *“Yeah. It really is.”*

Diabolos wrapped his arm around Jihyo to ground himself.

“Is someone anxious?” Jihyo asked as she looked up at her boyfriend.

Diabolos smiled as he looked down at her before kissing her forehead, “not anymore,”

Despite the unexpected visit and the way the day had spiraled into a full-on party, she couldn’t help but feel grateful for the life she had built with Diabolos, her members, and her extended family. They were loud, spontaneous, and a little over the top, but she wouldn’t trade this feeling for anything in the world.

Diabolos caught her eye, giving her a soft, knowing smile. Without words, they shared a moment of quiet understanding amid the noise and laughter.

It was perfect, just the way it was.

As the evening wore on, the apartment buzzed with conversations in different corners, and everyone relaxed and enjoyed the impromptu gathering. Jihyo found herself sitting on the couch with Mina, Diabolos, and Mina’s boyfriend, Richter, a soft-spoken but kind-hearted man who had a natural talent for blending into the group despite being relatively new to their circle.

The four of them were speaking English, a comfortable language for Mina and Richter, and something Diabolos seemed to switch into effortlessly. Jihyo was doing her best to keep up, her English was solid but slower as she worked through her sentences. Diabolos, on the other hand, spoke it fluently, though there was a noticeable difference in the way he sounded compared to Richter.

Mina tilted her head, her curiosity piqued by the way Diabolos' voice carried through the conversation. “Dio, your English... it sounds so different. It’s not like the Americans I know.”

Richter nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I noticed that too. Most Americans have a more nasal, higher tone, but you… yours is deeper. Almost throaty.”

Diabolos chuckled softly, his voice rumbling in that low, gravelly way. “I guess I’ve always sounded like this. Not much I can do about it.”

Mina squinted playfully at him and then laughed. “You sound like a bear! So gruff and deep. It’s like your voice comes from the earth, not your throat.” she said as she made herself appear bigger as if mimicking a bear.

The joke caught everyone by surprise, and Jihyo laughed along with them, but as Mina’s words sank in, they triggered something deep inside her, something Voljune had been quietly holding back.

Suddenly, the room around her seemed to blur and shift. Jihyo’s heart skipped a beat as a flood of memories—not hers, but Voljune’s—rushed into her mind. She was pulled back into the past, to a moment long before she had ever met Diabolos.

In the memory, Jihyo (or rather, Voljune) was flying through space in a small, dimly lit ship. The atmosphere was tense, thick with uncertainty and dread. Diabolos sat in the co-pilot seat beside her, silent, his face pale and drawn. He hadn’t spoken since the Severing. His chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, but his eyes were far away, distant. There was an overwhelming heaviness in the air—Voljune could feel it even now through Jihyo’s senses.

She looked over at him, at the man who had survived the impossible, who had endured Narset’s brutal Severing. His face was etched with pain, and yet, he was alive. But something was different, something was lost. His voice, when he spoke, had changed. The man she had once known had been replaced by someone else—someone quieter, sadder.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he broke the silence.

“Thank you... for saving me.” His voice was rough, deeper than it had been before. It came from somewhere deep within him as if it had been dragged from the depths of his soul. And the pain in his eyes, that raw, untouchable hurt—it cut Voljune to the core.

At that moment, she realized just how much Diabolos had lost. Not just his voice, but a part of himself. He was no longer the same person she had known before. And neither was she.

The memory faded, and Jihyo blinked back to the present, the warmth of the apartment and the laughter of her friends washing over her like a wave. But the echo of that memory lingered in her chest, heavy and heart-wrenching. Unconsciously, a single tear slipped down her cheek.

Diabolos, who had been quietly watching her, noticed immediately. His expression softened as he reached over, gently wiping the tear away with his thumb.

“Don’t worry,” he whispered his voice that same deep, gravelly tone that both Jihyo and Voljune had come to love. “It will be okay.”

Jihyo’s heart swelled as she looked into his eyes, and for a moment, the line between past and present blurred. Voljune’s memories, the weight of their shared experiences, and the love they both had for this man—they all converged into one undeniable truth.

*He survived. And he’s still here.*

She smiled up at him, the tear already forgotten as she leaned into his warmth. “Yeah,” she said softly. “I know.”

Voljune, too, stirred gently within her, no longer holding onto the pain of that memory, but instead embracing the comfort of the present. The two of them—Jihyo and Voljune—felt a deep sense of peace at that moment. They had each other, they had Diabolos, and they had their friends.

As the conversation around them resumed, the three of them—Jihyo, Voljune, and Diabolos—shared a quiet, unspoken connection, one built on love, resilience, and an understanding that ran far deeper than words.

As the party wore on fatigue and yawns spread through the group like a plague, but Nayeon in her foresight said, “Sleepover!” Jihyo sighed but Dio relented as the rest of the girls quickly all agreed. She went to her car and pulled out all the matching pajamas she had bought. Everyone laughed except Dio as he began to notice cracks in her smile.

As the party began to wind down, laughter and conversation faded into a comfortable lull. Dio, always quietly observant, noticed Nayeon slipping away from the group, her usual sparkle dimmed by something only he seemed to notice. Jihyo, ever in tune with him, followed his gaze. Standing beside her, Mark also noticed, shifting uncomfortably. But Jihyo placed a gentle hand on his arm, smiling warmly.

“Dio’s got this,” she reassured him. “Let’s give them some space.”

Mark glanced at Dio, who was already making his way toward Nayeon with the quiet, steady calm that had become second nature to him. There was a strength in Dio that wasn’t about physical power, though it was easy to mistake it for that at first. It was in the way he carried himself, a quiet presence that made people feel safe like they could lean on him without being judged.

Dio found Nayeon sitting in a quieter corner of the apartment, staring off into space, her shoulders slightly hunched as if weighed down by unseen thoughts. He approached her slowly, not wanting to startle her, and gently tapped her shoulder.

“Hey, Nay,” he said softly, his voice full of warmth and care. “Is everything alright?”

Nayeon turned, her face breaking into a forced smile, though the tightness around her eyes betrayed her. She was trying so hard to appear fine, to keep up her strong facade, but Dio could see through it.

“Yeah, everything’s great,” she replied, too quickly, her tone guarded. “Why do you ask?”

Dio studied her for a moment, his eyes kind and patient. He wasn’t the type to push people to share what they weren’t ready to, but his mere presence often encouraged others to open up. He chose his words carefully, not wanting to pressure her.

“It’s nothing,” he said softly, with a reassuring smile. “Just checking in.”

Then, without hesitation, he enveloped her in a gentle hug. Nayeon froze for a second, her defenses wavering, before she finally let out a shaky breath. In his arms, she felt his warmth, his steady heartbeat, and the sense that she didn’t have to carry everything on her own. That was what Dio did—he made you feel safe like your burdens were shared, even if only for a moment.

And that’s when Nayeon broke. Her walls came tumbling down, and she clung to him, burying her face in his chest as her tears spilled over.

“I’m so scared, Dio,” she sobbed. “What if… what if Twice isn’t forever? What if ten years is it? What if… we don’t last?”

From her vantage point, Jihyo smiled gently as she watched Dio comfort Nayeon. She had been in that exact position many times herself, seeking solace in Dio’s quiet strength. There was something about him that made her feel seen and understood in a way no one else could quite match. She turned to Mark, who looked like he wanted to rush over and comfort Nayeon himself, but Jihyo shook her head slightly, her eyes twinkling with reassurance.

“He’s got this,” she whispered, and Mark nodded, settling back.

Out on the balcony, away from prying eyes, Dio led Nayeon to a chair and sat beside her, still holding her hand as she sniffled and wiped her tears. The cool night air helped to calm her, but it was Dio’s steady presence that truly soothed her frayed nerves.

“Twice is already forever,” Dio said, his voice calm but certain.

Nayeon looked up at him, confused and still wiping away tears. “What do you mean?”

Dio leaned back, gazing up at the night sky. “The legacy you’ve built—the hearts you’ve all touched—it’s something that goes beyond this moment, beyond this year, or the next. It’s already part of something bigger.”

Nayeon blinked, trying to process his words, but Dio wasn’t just being philosophical. He knew, better than anyone, how far their impact truly reached. There were worlds, literal worlds, far from Earth where Twice’s music had found its way, where “One” gathered and celebrated the group that had become a universal symbol of love and hope.

“As long as there are stars in the sky, there will always be Once. And as long as there’s Once, there will always be Twice,” he continued, his voice low and soothing. “It doesn’t matter what happens to the group—whether you’re on stage together or not. That love, that connection, will last no matter what. You’ve already created something eternal.”

Nayeon’s tears slowed, his words sinking in as a warm sense of comfort filled her. She smiled, a little watery still, but the fear that had gripped her heart began to ease.

“So… you’re saying we’ve already won?” she asked softly, a bit of her usual sass creeping back into her tone.

Dio chuckled, a deep, warm sound. “Yeah, you’ve already won. No matter what comes next.”

Nayeon sniffled again, this time out of relief, and wiped her eyes. “When did you get so soft-hearted?”

Dio shrugged with a playful grin. “I always was.”

Nayeon laughed, a real laugh this time, and the sound filled Dio with quiet satisfaction. Jihyo had told him once that Nayeon needed these moments of reassurance, to feel grounded when her insecurities flared up. And he had learned, from his own pain and struggles, how important it was to remind others of their worth, their impact.

From the balcony, Dio and Nayeon could hear the soft hum of the party continuing inside, but for this moment, it was just the two of them and the silent assurance that everything would be okay.

As they walked back inside, Nayeon shivered in the cool night air. Jihyo’s smile lingered as they rejoined the party, but something stirred within her. The room seemed to shift, subtly at first, as if the air grew thicker, heavier. Then, the sensation deepened, and she felt a pull—Voljune’s presence awakening inside her, memories unfurling like a delicate, intricate web. Her vision blurred slightly, and suddenly, she was no longer in the present.

The scene around her morphed, transporting her into a memory not her own.

---

It was a long time ago, in a strange, desolate place. Voljune's memory opened up fully before Jihyo’s eyes. She saw the room—sterile, cold, and dimly lit. In the center of it stood Diabolos. He was younger then, though not by much, but there was something raw about him, something unrefined. His tall frame looked tense, ready for a fight, but his eyes—his eyes told a different story. Beneath the hardness, Jihyo could see it: a quiet vulnerability, a softness that hadn't yet been buried by the years of torment to come.

Voljune had been wary, uncertain. It was her first time seeing him, sensing him. She could feel the power coursing through his veins, but it was more than that. There was something about the way he carried himself, something that spoke not of violence, but of care. He had been thrown into an impossible situation, and yet, his gaze wasn’t hostile. It was searching.

Their eyes met. He had been expecting another enemy. Instead, Voljune felt the unfamiliar sensation of calm, of warmth. Diabolos, though prepared for battle, didn’t strike. He merely stood there, waiting, observing.

“What are you?” his voice was soft, far softer than it should have been for a man of his size. The tone startled Voljune—gentle, almost questioning. It wasn’t the voice of a hardened warrior, but someone seeking to understand.

Voljune hesitated, unsure how to respond. She hadn’t expected this. She had expected brutality, cold calculation. But instead, she saw in Diabolos a strange, disarming kindness that caught her off guard. He wasn’t the monster she had anticipated.

“I’m here to observe,” Voljune had said, her voice tinged with both curiosity and caution.

“Observe?” Diabolos repeated, tilting his head slightly. There was a softness in his eyes now, a flicker of something almost childlike. “What do you want from me?”

That was the first time Voljune had felt it—his compassion. Even then, even in that strange, cold room, Diabolos had carried with him a heart that sought connection. His strength hadn’t been forged in cruelty or dominance but in a quiet, determined desire to protect.

Jihyo could feel the memory washing over her, flooding her with an understanding she hadn’t grasped before. The Diabolos standing before Voljune back then was the same man she knew now. The quiet protector. The gentle giant. He had always been like this, even when the world had tried to harden him.

And then the memory shifted. Jihyo felt it—Voljune’s rising feelings, the moment she began to realize that Diabolos wasn’t just another force of power to contend with. He was something different, something good. She had been drawn to him then, not because of his strength, but because of his heart.

---

The memory faded slowly, and Jihyo found herself back in the present, standing in the middle of the apartment as the party hummed softly around her. She blinked, trying to shake off the vividness of the past. It had been so real, so tangible.

Voljune stirred inside her, an odd sense of apology coming through.

“I’m sorry,” Voljune said quietly, her voice tinged with regret. “I didn’t mean to subject you to all of that. My memories... they can be overwhelming.”

Jihyo smiled softly, brushing it off as if it were nothing. “It’s okay. It helps me know our boyfriend better,” she replied, her tone full of warmth and affection. There was no resentment in her voice, no frustration. Only a deep understanding of who Diabolos truly was, both in the past and now.

Before she could say more, she felt a familiar warmth behind her. Dio had approached quietly, his arms wrapping gently around her waist as he pulled her close. His presence was grounding, his embrace filled with the same tenderness she had seen in that memory.

“Don’t worry,” he whispered softly in her ear, sensing the lingering emotions. “It’ll be okay.”

Jihyo leaned back into him, feeling his strength, but more importantly, feeling his love. They stood there for a moment, enveloped in each other’s warmth, connected not only by the present but by the shared understanding of who they had always been to one another. Eventually, the warmth flooded Jihyo’s core and she turned to Dio. “You my bedroom now,” she whispered.

- - -

Diabolos stood stone-faced as his mind fogged over, the world around him blurring into a distant hum. He could feel it creeping in—the familiar dissonance, the numbness that had plagued him ever since the Severing. A small part of him, the part that Narset had ripped away, left a scar deeper than the physical wound. Sometimes, it felt like a piece of him was still wandering, aimless, and disembodied, an echo of Ruhan’s presence within him. He shuddered.

It wasn’t just a memory, though. There were moments—fleeting, but unbearable—where he could still feel Ruhan beneath the surface, like a parasite never fully exorcised. A phantom, mocking and ever-present, digging into the darkest corners of his mind. He hated it, hated that there was a part of him that could never truly belong to him again. No matter how hard he tried, there was always something lingering, denigrating his thoughts, whispering things he’d rather forget.

Diabolos sighed, trying to shake the weight off his chest, but it clung to him. Then there was a knock. It startled him out of his trance, and he turned around, his brow furrowing as he crossed the room.

When he opened the door, Jiwoo stood there, her expression unreadable. "Hi, Dio," she said softly, “I needed to drop something off.”

Dio blinked, still disoriented from the fog in his mind. “Okay... what is it?”

Without warning, Jiwoo leaned in and kissed him. The suddenness of it jolted Dio, but before he could push her away, a sensation he dreaded washed over him—Ruhan.

For a split second, it was as though something foreign slipped through the kiss, like an invisible thread snaking its way into his body, reigniting the bond he thought he’d broken. His revulsion turned to horror, and his stomach churned as his body reacted, his muscles tensing. He clenched his fist so tightly that his knuckles whitened. A cold sweat broke out across his skin as he felt the ghost of Ruhan inside him, like a twisted form of possession.

Jiwoo stepped back, confused by his sudden change. “Dio, are you okay?”

He doubled over, struggling to suppress the invasion. His breath came in ragged gasps, and though Jiwoo reached out to help him, he waved her off. “Thanks, Ji. I’m fine. Just... have a good day.”

His voice was strained, but calm enough to keep her from asking questions. She lingered for a moment, her brow furrowed, but then she nodded and left, glancing back over her shoulder with uncertainty.

As soon as she was gone, Dio moved with purpose, heading straight to the mirror in his room. The moment his eyes met his reflection, he saw it.

Ruhan.

There, staring back at him, a twisted version of himself in the glass. Ruhan’s presence wasn’t fully corporeal, but it was unmistakable—his mocking smirk, his cold, calculating gaze. The parasitic twin who’d always reveled in his chaos.

"Hello, Dio," Ruhan greeted, his voice echoing through Dio’s mind as though it came from within the mirror itself. His tone was light, almost playful, but there was a darkness to it that Dio couldn’t ignore.

Dio’s eyes narrowed. His reflection glared back at him, the intensity in his gaze betraying the flood of emotions churning beneath the surface. "I should expel you right here, right now," he said coldly, the anger barely masked.

Ruhan’s smirk grew wider, and he raised his hands in mock surrender. "Please," he drawled, "you act like this is pleasant for me. You think I wanted to be back inside you? Trust me, Dio, if I had other options, I’d take them. But I need your help."

Dio’s jaw clenched, and his knuckles pressed against the edge of the mirror, the glass cool beneath his fingertips. "Why should I help you? After everything you’ve done—everything you took from me. You think I’ve forgotten?"

Ruhan's smile faltered, his expression hardening for just a moment before he composed himself. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said evenly, "I’m asking you to survive."

Dio’s body tensed, and for a long moment, there was nothing but silence between them. "Survive?" he repeated, incredulity lacing his words. "I’ve done that just fine without you."

"Have you?" Ruhan raised a brow, the weight of his presence pressing down on Dio like a heavy fog. "Tell me, how often do you wake up, the fog clouding your thoughts? How often do you feel the emptiness, the part of yourself that was stolen away?"

Dio’s glare sharpened, but Ruhan’s words had struck a nerve. He hated it, hated the truth in them. He could never be whole again, not without the part that had been severed. He could deny it all he wanted, but some nights, the absence was unbearable.

"You don’t need me," Ruhan continued, "but I need you. Orochi has returned."

Dio froze. The name hung in the air like a death sentence.

"Why should I care?" Dio finally asked, though his tone had shifted. His anger was still there, but the uncertainty was creeping in. "After everything, why should I help you—especially you?"

"Because," Ruhan said, his smirk gone now, replaced by something darker, more serious, "Orochi’s return doesn’t just mean trouble for me. It means trouble for you. For Jihyo. For every one you care about."

Dio's hands clenched against the mirror, the glass threatening to crack under the pressure. He wanted to reject it, to reject everything about Ruhan’s presence, but deep down, he knew the truth. This wasn’t just about Ruhan. It was about the bigger picture, the looming threat that had reared its head once again.

"And don’t worry," Ruhan added, his voice dropping to a low rumble. "I have no intention of severing you. I need your continued existence... for now."

Dio hesitated, his mind racing. He hated this. He hated the idea of working with the very thing that had destroyed him. But he knew better than to ignore the warnings.

"Fine," Dio said through gritted teeth, his fists unclenching as he let out a slow, controlled breath. "But after this... after Orochi, you leave. And you never come back."

Ruhan’s reflection gave a slow nod, though Dio could sense the amusement underneath. "As you wish," he said, though his smile didn’t fade.

Duo turned away from the mirror, the weight of what had just transpired settling heavily in his chest. The phantom presence of Ruhan still lingered, curling like smoke beneath his skin, making his body feel alien. The room seemed to tilt as his mind fogged over again. There was a plan—a necessary evil—but it still sickened him.

Steeling himself, Dio walked outside just as Jihyo arrived back at their apartment. She was still wearing her radiant smile, her energy as bright as the sun, but the moment her eyes met his, that joy evaporated. A strange, unsettling tension filled the air.

Voljune surged within her, alert and bristling.

"You," Jihyo hissed in unison with Voljune, their voices layering over each other with venom.

Dio—no, Ruhan—smirked in response, tilting his head slightly. "Ah, sister..." His voice was Dio’s, but it was off as if something deep within had shifted and was no longer aligned. There was a dissonance in his tone, a foreign rhythm. "Please forgive me, but I need to borrow Dio for the time being."

Jihyo flinched at the sound of his words, the way Ruhan twisted Dio's familiar voice into something uncanny. It was like hearing a favorite song distorted, played backward with the melody shattered. Her eyes narrowed as she felt Voljune stir inside her, recognizing the presence of her twin.

Ruhan.

It was impossible to ignore. Dio's usually calm and collected demeanor had been warped, replaced by something darker, more assertive. Even his posture had changed—the easy confidence that Jihyo loved was now edged with an eerie control. She could feel Dio fighting beneath the surface, locked somewhere deep inside himself.

Within Dio's mind, he remained silent, holding firm. Ruhan had pried into his body, but Dio was prepared. He guarded his most vital memories, locking them behind mental barriers. He had learned how Ruhan operated during their previous encounters, and he wouldn't allow the parasite to fully take over again. Still, Dio felt the pull, the struggle to maintain himself as Ruhan exerted more control over his body.

"I know what you're planning, Ruhan," Dio's voice echoed internally. "But I won’t let you sever me again."

Ruhan, nestled inside him, chuckled softly. "Such mistrust... I told you, Dio, I need you alive. Severing you again would be counterproductive to my goals. Besides, Narset—she would never forgive me."

Dio’s heart clenched at the mention of Narset. His mind flickered back to her, and he couldn't help but ask, "What did you do to Narset?"

Ruhan’s laughter died down, his tone shifting to something softer—almost regretful. "She is safe, locked away in a cell where she can't cause any more damage. But she misses you, Dio. She regrets involving you in this mess. She’s sorry for everything."

The remorse in Ruhan's voice was genuine, but Dio didn't trust it. Not entirely. Yet the mention of Narset stirred something in him—a longing he hadn’t allowed himself to feel for so long. He couldn't help but picture her, locked away, her sorrow weighing heavily on her. Still, he couldn't let Ruhan manipulate him.

Meanwhile, Jihyo watched as Dio’s expression flickered with tension. Her instincts screamed at her—Voljune’s energy inside her bristled with fury, ready to confront her twin, but Jihyo held back. She had to tread carefully.

"Dio," she said softly, her voice cutting through the space between them, hoping to reach him. "I know you're still in there."

Ruhan's smirk faltered slightly, but he maintained his control, tilting his head as if amused. "Dio is here, sister, but he is not in control at the moment."

Voljune seethed within her. "Ruhan, I swear, if you hurt him—"

Ruhan's voice came out with a mocking edge. "Hurt him? Why would I? He is valuable to me. I am only borrowing what I need, for the time being."

Jihyo’s heart pounded. She could feel Voljune’s fury building, but she kept her gaze steady, refusing to let Ruhan see any fear. "You don't get to take him, Ruhan. We won’t let you."

Ruhan’s eyes gleamed with something darker. "You act like you have a choice, sister."

Inside, Dio’s thoughts churned, but he remained silent, calculating. He knew Ruhan's power well enough by now and knew what it took to survive against him. But he couldn’t deny the strange truth beneath the surface—Ruhan needed him. There was a twisted logic there, and Dio had to play along, at least for now.

Jihyo took a deep breath, steadying herself as Voljune rallied inside her. Her connection with Dio, though strained by Ruhan's presence, still pulsed with life. And as she held onto that, she refused to let go.

"We'll get you back," Jihyo whispered, more to Dio than to Ruhan, her voice resolute.

Ruhan, still possessing Dio’s body, simply chuckled. "We'll see, sister. We shall see."

As the tension thickened between them, Jihyo felt Voljune’s resolve growing stronger inside her. No matter what it took, she and Dio would face this together—even if it meant confronting the darkest parts of themselves.

Dio—no, Ruhan—stood in front of Jihyo with a smirk that was both foreign and unsettling. The familiar warmth and softness she always saw in Dio’s eyes were buried beneath a cold, mocking glint that belonged only to Ruhan. Jihyo’s heart pounded in her chest, Voljune simmering beneath her skin with rage.

"You," Jihyo hissed in unison with Voljune, their voices layered with venom, their connection flaring as one.

Ruhan's lips curled into an amused smile. "Ah, sister... Voljune, how you’ve matured. But still so predictable. And you, Jihyo—Dio’s precious little companion. How quaint. But you must know, I’m only borrowing him for a while."

Jihyo's hand clenched at her side, her gaze sharp, but her emotions were a storm beneath the surface. She had learned, thanks to Dio, how to control that storm—to stay calm when faced with something as manipulative as Ruhan. But it wasn’t easy. She could feel Dio trapped somewhere deep inside, struggling, his presence flickering like a distant candle in a storm.

Ruhan took a step closer, tilting his head with a bemused expression. "I’ve always wondered... What do you see in him? Dio, I mean. What draws you to such a... subpar vessel?"

Jihyo’s brow furrowed, a flare of anger igniting in her chest. Voljune, ever in sync with her, pulsed within her consciousness, pushing against the boundaries of her control. Jihyo could feel the heat of her twin's rage, the ancient fury simmering just beneath her skin.

"You’re wrong about him," Jihyo said through clenched teeth. "Dio is more than you could ever understand."

Ruhan chuckled, the sound cold and dismissive. "More? Perhaps. But from where I stand, he is little more than a broken tool—a shattered relic of what he once was." He waved his hand nonchalantly. "Still, you’ve attached yourself to him, haven’t you, sister? Why?"

Jihyo held her ground, her eyes fierce as she met his gaze. "Because he’s more than just a vessel. He’s a person, Ruhan. He has a heart, a soul, things you can’t comprehend."

Ruhan narrowed his eyes, his smirk fading into something more calculating. "A heart, a soul..." His voice trailed off, almost bored. "How sentimental. I suppose that’s why you two are so... compatible." He gestured toward Jihyo and Voljune with a flick of Dio's hand. "Your bond is fascinating. Almost perfect synchronization. It’s admirable, truly. If only your dear Diabolos had that same potential."

Jihyo felt a ripple of indignation, her blood boiling as Voljune surged within her. She could feel her twin’s ancient power coiling and ready, her rage almost spilling over.

"We’re not perfect," Jihyo said, her voice calm but edged with steel. "But we don’t need to be. What we have is enough."

Ruhan’s eyes glinted with mock interest as he looked at her, his smirk returning. "Enough, you say? Hmm." He tilted his head as if considering her words. "What I see, sister, is wasted potential. You and Voljune are almost perfectly in sync—an extraordinary bond, truly. I can’t help but wonder... why lower yourself to Diabolos’s level?"

Jihyo flinched, feeling the sting of his words, but she stood firm. "You wouldn’t understand. It’s not about power, or strength, or even perfection. Dio and I... we complement each other. We make each other better, and stronger. You think he’s broken, but I see someone who’s survived the impossible. Someone who’s still kind, still loving, despite everything."

Ruhan let out a low laugh, his voice a dark hum of amusement. "Oh, sister, your sentimentality is charming, I’ll give you that. But you’re wrong if you think Diabolos is anything more than a tool. He’s a means to an end. He always has been."

Jihyo’s heart ached at Ruhan's dismissive tone. She could feel Dio’s presence, small but resilient, fighting beneath the surface. Voljune, too, bristled with anger, her twin’s energy surging through her like an electric current.

"Voljune," Ruhan said, his tone now more focused on his twin. "You’re stronger now. I can feel it. But you still tether yourself to this... human." He spat the last word with disdain. "Why?"

Voljune surged forward, pushing against the edges of Jihyo's consciousness as if she were about to burst free. "Because Dio is ours," Voljune growled through Jihyo's voice, their bond radiating through every word. "He’s not a vessel for you to control. He’s more than you could ever be, Ruhan. He’s better than you."

Ruhan's eyes darkened, his smirk fading into something far more sinister. "Better than me? Oh, sister... you really are delusional. But I’ll let you cling to your fantasies, for now. I have no intention of severing Dio—at least, not yet. There are... greater things at play."

Jihyo’s breath hitched, her mind swirling as she tried to keep her focus. But Voljune’s words rang true inside her—Dio was theirs, and she wouldn’t let Ruhan take him away.

"You think you can control everything, Ruhan," Jihyo said, her voice soft but filled with determination. "But you can’t. Dio’s not going to be your puppet. He’s stronger than you think."

Ruhan looked at her with a sneer, but his amusement lingered. "We shall see, sister. We shall see."

And with that, Jihyo felt Dio's presence flicker, as if fighting its way back to the surface. The shift in control was subtle, but she could sense it. Dio was still there, and he wasn't giving up.

As if sensing Jihyo’s unwavering resolve, Ruhan’s voice faded, leaving her with a parting thought. "Just remember, Jihyo. As synchronized as you and Voljune may be, Dio will always be one step behind. He’s never going to be what you need him to be."

Jihyo shook her head, feeling the warmth of Dio’s presence growing stronger beneath Ruhan’s shadow. "You don’t know him like I do."

A moment of silence followed, and then, as if in response, Dio’s familiar warmth returned—faint but present. The soft, gentle presence that Jihyo had come to love.

Suddenly, she felt Dio’s arms wrap around her from behind, his embrace firm and comforting. "Don’t listen to him," Dio whispered softly into her ear. "We’ve got this."

Jihyo relaxed into his touch, Voljune settling inside her. Ruhan’s words still echoed in her mind, but with Dio’s warmth enveloping her, she knew they could face whatever was coming—together.

Ruhan stretched, rolling his shoulders as he adjusted to the sensation of being in control of Dio’s body once again. It was almost amusing—how he could manipulate the physical form of his “vessel,” a body that had once been so imposing and powerful. But now, something simpler tugged at him, a small indulgence Dio had held onto. The refrigerator hummed softly in the quiet of the apartment as Ruhan pulled open the door, revealing Dio’s stash of treats.

Voljune stirred inside Jihyo, her presence shifting slightly as they both observed from the edges of Rohan’s awareness. They could feel it—the change in energy, the way Dio’s body seemed to react to Ruhan in ways only they could see.

“He’s indulging,” Voljune noted with a hint of surprise in her voice. “Not in power or conquest—but in something so... mundane.”

Jihyo watched with narrowed eyes as Ruhan plucked a milkshake from the fridge and studied it with mild curiosity. She had seen Dio savor these moments before—these small, personal joys that grounded him in ways Ruhan would never understand. As Ruhan took a slow, almost hesitant sip, Jihyo felt a ripple of Dio’s presence beneath the surface, faint but still there.

Voljune hummed thoughtfully. “He is more in touch with Diabolos than he realizes,” she observed. “Even now, he feels the connection to the vessel. He may not admit it, but Dio’s essence... still lingers.”

Jihyo’s lips curled into a faint smile. “Dio would appreciate the irony,” she murmured. “Ruhan, this cold and calculating being, indulging in something as simple as a milkshake.”

Ruhan, oblivious to their presence, sighed as he took another sip, his body visibly relaxing. There was something almost humorous about watching this ancient, powerful entity indulging in mortal pleasures. Voljune and Jihyo could feel the faint echoes of satisfaction that trickled through Dio’s consciousness—a simple joy in the taste, the texture, the momentary comfort.

“What does he get out of this?” Jihyo wondered aloud, her eyes focused on Rohan’s every movement.

Voljune’s voice grew softer, more contemplative. “Perhaps he misses it,” she mused. “The experience of life. Even the small things. After all, what use is power if you can’t enjoy the sensations of the world?”

Ruhan’s focus shifted to a bag of burgers sitting on the counter. He unwrapped one with an almost theatrical gesture, biting into it with a low groan of satisfaction. Jihyo watched, her expression a mix of curiosity and amusement, as Ruhan seemed to savor the taste more than she expected.

“He’s starting to appreciate it,” Voljune observed. “Even if he won’t admit it.”

Jihyo’s mind wandered to Dio—how he would smile so brightly whenever they would grab a quick burger or share a sweet treat. The contrast between Ruhan’s mechanical indulgence and Dio’s simple joy couldn’t be starker, but for a fleeting moment, Jihyo saw something else in Ruhan—a faint echo of what had been taken from him.

“He doesn’t understand it,” Jihyo whispered. “But he’s feeling it.”

Voljune’s voice deepened. “Ruhan is experiencing a part of Dio’s essence that he would never admit to craving. The sensations. The pleasures. The simplicity of being human.”

Ruhan finished the burger with a contented sigh, tossing the wrapper into the trash. He leaned back against the counter, letting the moment settle over him like a blanket of warmth. His eyes glinted as he gazed out at the balcony, a smug smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“For all his power,” Voljune mused, “Ruhan envies this—the mortal pleasures, the joy of living in the present. He envies Diabolos.”

Jihyo blinked, surprised at the thought. “Envy?”

Voljune’s presence swirled inside her. “Yes. For all Ruhan’s power and domination, he lacks the ability to truly enjoy the world. Diabolos can. That’s why he clings to these indulgences.”

Jihyo crossed her arms, watching as Ruhan ran a hand through Dio’s hair. The casual gesture, the ease with which he moved—there was something almost human about it. But the unsettling truth remained: it wasn’t Dio. Not fully.

“You mortals and your food,” Ruhan muttered to himself. “This is the only thing I might actually miss.”

Jihyo’s jaw tightened. Even now, Ruhan couldn’t fully admit it—couldn’t admit that he was starting to understand, even in the smallest ways, why Dio found joy in these moments. But there was something undeniable about the way Dio’s body reacted to it—the way it softened, relaxed, and surrendered to the sensations.

Ruhan turned toward the balcony, his gaze shifting to the sky. “Enjoy the quiet while it lasts,” he said, speaking to Dio as though the man was still present. “Once this is done, you can have your body back. But until then... you’re mine.”

Voljune’s presence stirred within Jihyo, her thoughts intertwined with her host’s. “What does he think he’s gaining from all this?” Voljune asked quietly.

Jihyo tilted her head, her eyes narrowing as she studied Rohan’s every move. “He’s trying to understand it,” she murmured. “Even if he doesn’t realize it, he’s trying to connect with what makes Dio who he is.”

Voljune’s voice softened with a quiet understanding. “And he never will,” she whispered. “Because he can’t see what we see.”

Jihyo’s heart ached with the truth of those words. Ruhan might indulge in Dio’s pleasures, but he would never grasp the depth of Dio’s heart—the way he cared for those around him, the way he found joy in the smallest things. That was something Ruhan could never take.

As Ruhan stood there, gazing out at the city lights, Jihyo and Voljune exchanged a glance. They knew Dio was still there, locked away but present, waiting for the moment to reclaim what was his.

Voljune’s voice was barely a whisper now. “He doesn’t understand the strength that comes from living through the heart.”

Jihyo nodded. “No. And he never will.”

And with that, they watched, knowing that, no matter how long Ruhan stayed in control, Dio’s essence would remain—quiet but unbroken, waiting for the right moment to emerge.

Dio’s mind flickered back to a time when his life had been a haze, trapped between pain and recovery, long before he’d set foot back on Earth. He remembered the distant planet—far on the edge of the universe, a place unlike anything he had encountered before or since.

It had been barren at first glance, a rocky wasteland stretching out toward the horizon with nothing but dust and jagged mountains. But beneath the surface, in hidden sanctuaries carved into the mountains themselves, lived a race of beings unlike any other. These creatures stood eight feet tall, their skin a muted gray, a perfect blend of earth and stone. Their bodies radiated strength, and their eyes glowed faintly with the energy of untapped power. Yet, there was no violence in them, no hunger for conquest or destruction, which caught Dio off guard.

The moment he crashed on their planet, broken and fragmented after being severed, he expected to be greeted by warriors—beings who might challenge his will or force him to fight for his survival. But instead, these giants, their voices deep and resonant, moved with an unexpected gentleness. Their hands, rough from battle and labor, tended to his wounds. They carried him to one of their great sanctuaries, a structure hewn from the mountains, where the hum of ancient power vibrated through the air. The energy was palpable, yet somehow, it was contained, controlled, and peaceful.

They called themselves the Ky’Rans, and despite their imposing stature and strength, they lived lives of quiet isolation, far from the reaches of ruin and conquest. The more time Diabolos spent with them, the more they revealed their history—stories of a people who had once been conquerors, feared across the galaxy for their might. But after centuries of war, something changed in them. They turned their backs on the destruction they had wrought, and instead of ruling through power, they chose peace.

Their culture revolved around balance and restraint. They no longer saw strength purely in the ability to conquer but in the preservation of what was precious. They believed that peace, true peace, required more strength than any battle. Their teachings baffled Diabolos at first, their ways alien to everything he had known.

During his stay, they showed him how they preserved their world—both physically and spiritually. They honed their bodies through labor, not combat, maintaining harmony with their environment rather than seeking to dominate it. Dio, as broken as he had been, found it hard to argue with the results. Their world thrived with lush, untouched forests hidden between the harsh rockscapes. Their people lived long, content lives, untouched by the brutal cycle of revenge and violence.

"You are strong," one of the elders had told him one day as they walked along the cliffs overlooking the vast landscape. "But strength is not just in what you can break. It is in what you choose to protect."

Diabolos had stared out at the expanse, pondering those words. It was an idea foreign to him—he had always believed strength was defined by overcoming challenges, by fighting back, by taking power into his hands. But here, the Ky’Rans thrived without that hunger, without needing to exert their dominance.

"Revenge," the elder had continued, "is like a treadmill—you run and run, but never get anywhere. The faster you chase it, the more you realize how empty it is."

Diabolos knew, deep down, that there was truth in those words. The Ky’Rans had helped him heal, not just physically, but mentally and emotionally. In their quiet sanctuaries, he had found peace for the first time in his life. It wasn’t the same kind of peace he had been taught to seek—the peace after victory, after battle, after silencing one’s enemies—but a peace that came from within.

And yet, as much as he respected their ways, Diabolos couldn't fully embrace their ideology. He understood their philosophy, but peace, to him, wasn’t the ultimate goal. He knew he couldn’t walk their path, as noble as it was. He still felt the pull of something more—a need to confront his past, to face the battles waiting for him on Earth.

His time with them had given him clarity and strength, but it also showed him that his journey wasn’t done. There were still forces at play—forces that would come for him and those he cared about, no matter how much peace he sought. The Ky’Rans might have conquered their inner demons, but Diabolos had a different fate awaiting him.

And so, one day, he left.

As he stepped aboard a ship they had helped him repair, he looked back at the towering figures that had nurtured him back to health. Their expressions were solemn but understanding. They knew he wouldn’t stay.

"Strength," the elder had said in parting, "is in knowing when to fight and when to walk away."

Diabolos nodded, but he had no words to offer. He couldn’t explain it—not then, at least—but he knew his battles were far from over.

Returning to Earth felt like waking from a long dream. He had been restored and renewed by his time with the Ky’Rans, but he didn’t feel at peace. That wasn’t his path. Peace, for him, was something that had to be earned—not by walking away, but by facing the storms that came his way.

Back in the present, Diabolos blinked as his memories faded, his mind drifting back to his body. he got up showered and got ready for his upcoming battle. As he did Jihyo and Voljune watched him intently.

“Do you think he ever regrets leaving them?” Voljune's voice echoed softly inside Jihyo as they watched Dio from a distance.

Jihyo's brow furrowed as she studied him, seeing the weight of his memories flickering in his eyes. “No,” she whispered. “He couldn’t stay. His path was always going to be different from theirs. But... I think they gave him something important. Maybe more than he realizes.”

Voljune hummed in agreement. “He carries their lessons, even if he disagrees with them. That kind of peace... it’s rare. And I think, in his own way, he’s always searching for it—even now.”

Jihyo sighed softly, her heart swelling with affection for the man she loved. He was strong, but not in the way most would think. His strength lay in his resilience, his ability to survive not just the battles outside, but the battles within.

And, maybe one day, he would find the peace he sought—on his own terms.

As Ruhan took hold of Diabolos's body again, his demeanor shifted. The once gentle and calculating presence of Dio faded, replaced by the arrogant and aggressive stance of Ruhan. His movements were sharp, confident, almost theatrical as he relished the control.

"Ah, good," Ruhan exclaimed, rolling his shoulders, feeling the stretch of muscles he hadn't used in ages. "Now we fight."

He made to leave, but before he could step through the door, Jihyo grabbed him by the arm, her grip firm yet full of concern.

“Can I have Dio back for a moment?” she asked, her voice steady.

Ruhan paused, clearly confused, and tried to suppress Dio further, pushing him down into the recesses of their shared mind. But something strange happened. Dio pushed back—more strongly than he had ever done before. Ruhan frowned. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He was supposed to have full control. Yet, despite his efforts, Dio’s consciousness rose to the surface.

Jihyo saw it too. The subtle shift in body language, the softening of his posture. A familiar warmth returned to Diabolos’s eyes.

“I love you, Yo-yo,” Dio said, his voice now his own. “And I love you, Voljune. I’ll be right back.” He gave her a reassuring smile, one that made her heart ache with worry, but she nodded and let go.

As Diabolos stepped away, his mind became a battlefield between him and Ruhan. Internally, they were locked in a struggle. Dio could feel Ruhan’s frustration brewing beneath the surface as the conqueror tried to maintain dominance, but it was Dio’s body—and he was done letting Ruhan run the show without questions.

Inside Dio’s Mind:

“Why are you doing this?” Dio’s voice echoed through their shared consciousness, reverberating in the space where Ruhan’s presence lingered like a shadow. “What’s the endgame, Ruhan? What do you actually want out of all this?”

Ruhan’s laughter filled the void. It was a low, sinister chuckle. “What do I want?” he repeated mockingly as if the question itself was absurd. “I want what I’ve always wanted. Power. Control. The kind of strength that transcends mortal limits. With Orochi back, and Narset neutralized, I can finally take what’s rightfully mine.”

Dio frowned, not satisfied with the answer. “Power for the sake of power? That’s it? You’ve been doing this for ages, Ruhan. Conquest after conquest. Planets have fallen at your feet. What’s the point? What’s the final goal here? More bodies? More worlds under your heel?”

Ruhan’s presence simmered in annoyance. “You wouldn’t understand, Dio. You’re soft. You’ve spent too much time worrying about ‘feelings’ and ‘relationships.’ Strength is all that matters. Control. The universe rewards the strong and devours the weak.”

“But to what end?” Dio pressed. “You’ve conquered worlds, and built empires, but you’re still here, inside me. If you were truly satisfied, you wouldn’t need to keep taking over my body, my life. What are you running from?”

Silence stretched between them, and for a moment, Dio thought he might have hit a nerve. Ruhan’s energy flickered, less stable than before. There was a pause, then Ruhan’s voice came through again, more subdued, but no less cold.

“I am not running from anything,” Ruhan spat, though there was a sharp edge of defensiveness in his tone. “I do what must be done. Those who are weak deserve their fates. Strength is survival.”

Dio let out a slow breath. “You’ve been saying the same thing for centuries, haven’t you? But deep down, you know it’s not enough. What happens when you’ve conquered everything? When there’s nothing left? Then what?”

Ruhan growled, his frustration boiling over. “You don’t get it, do you? There’s always something more to conquer, Dio. Power doesn’t have an end. It’s a cycle. You take, and then you take again. It’s the only way to survive in a universe that wants to crush you.”

Dio’s mind was calm, and contemplative, even as Rohan’s grew more volatile. “Survive... or thrive?” he asked softly. “There’s a difference, Ruhan. And you’re so focused on survival that you’ve forgotten how to live.”

The statement hung in the air like a challenge, one that Ruhan seemed unwilling to face directly. He deflected, shifting his tone. “And what about you, Dio? You pretend to be above it all, acting like you’re somehow better than me. But let’s not forget—you and I are more alike than you think. You’ve got that same hunger inside you. I can feel it.”

Dio’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t deny it. “Maybe. But I’m not afraid to face it. To admit that I want more. But unlike you, I don’t need to destroy everything around me to find it.”

Ruhan scoffed, but his grip on Diabolos’s body loosened slightly. “You’re a fool, Dio. You think peace will save you. That love and bond will make you strong. But when the time comes, and Orochi’s claws are at your throat, you’ll see just how weak those things really are.”

Dio didn’t flinch. “Maybe. But I’ll take that risk.”

In the Real World:

Jihyo and Voljune stood nearby, their shared consciousness attuned to the changes they sensed inside Dio. They exchanged a glance, knowing full well the battle raging inside him but trusting that he would come through.

“Ruhan doesn’t understand, does he?” Jihyo whispered to Voljune. “He only sees strength in conquest. He can’t comprehend what we see in Dio.”

Voljune’s voice resonated softly within her. “Ruhan is blinded by his own fear of weakness. He believes that vulnerability is a flaw. But Dio… he embraces it. That’s why he’s different. That’s why he’s stronger.”

Jihyo nodded, her heart swelling with pride. She watched Diabolos’s body, noting the subtle shifts in his posture. It was Dio again, she could feel it. But Ruhan lingered, a shadow in the background.

“He doesn’t see what we see in Dio,” Jihyo said quietly. “He can only see him as a vessel. A tool. But Dio is so much more than that.”

Voljune hummed in agreement. “That’s why we’ll win. Not because of brute force, but because we fight with our hearts, not just our fists.”

Jihyo smiled softly, her gaze fixed on Diabolos as he took a steadying breath, the internal dialogue with Ruhan still raging in the depths of his mind. She knew Dio would come through—he always did.

And when he did, he would show Ruhan just how wrong he was about what true strength really meant.

As Diabolos and Ruhan soared through the stars, the ship they were on hummed with an uneasy energy. The silence between them was thick with tension, the kind that could break at any moment. Ruhan was in control, steering the vessel toward the planetary ruins Orochi had begun to consume. Yet, despite his command over Diabolos's body, he could feel Dio's presence just beneath the surface—a coiled serpent, ready to strike if Ruhan let his guard down for even a second.

In the dimly lit corners of the ship, Ruhan’s soldiers whispered amongst themselves. Most of them had followed Ruhan through countless conquests, planets scorched, and civilizations reduced to ash. They were battle-hardened warriors, yet now, many felt a fear they hadn’t experienced in years. Diabolos, Ruhan’s most volatile and dangerous host, was back. And though they had seen him in action before, something was different this time. The usual raw chaos and fury that accompanied Diabolos had been replaced by a malignant calm—a terrifying stillness that hinted at something far more dangerous than brute strength.

A group of Ruhan’s lieutenants huddled near the back of the ship, casting uneasy glances at Diabolos. One of them, a seasoned warrior with gray streaks in his hair and a scar running down his cheek, turned to his comrade with wide eyes.

"I forgot how formidable they were together," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the hum of the ship.

The other, a captain with sharp, calculating eyes, nodded grimly. “It’s unnerving. It’s like their energies match so perfectly, but they despise each other. It makes no sense.”

The lieutenant glanced over at Diabolos, who stood at the ship’s helm with an eerie stillness, his eyes glowing faintly with the shared power between him and Ruhan. “I know, right? Ruhan’s always been obsessed with Narset, thinking she’s the perfect host, but it's not true. Diabolos—he’s the one. And it’s not even close. If it wasn’t for them working together, Ruhan would never have been able to build this empire.”

The captain’s gaze darkened. “Diabolos is more than just a host. He’s unpredictable. Even Ruhan can’t fully control him, and that’s what makes him dangerous. Narset may have power, but Diabolos… he’s something else. Something Ruhan fears, even if he won’t admit it.”

They both watched as Diabolos—Ruhan—stood, commanding the ship with an unsettling sense of calm. His body was poised, every movement deliberate, but beneath it all, there was a brewing storm, an unspoken tension between the two beings sharing the same vessel. Ruhan’s arrogance may have made him believe he was in control, but anyone who knew Diabolos well understood that he was biding his time, waiting for the right moment to strike.

Another soldier, standing a few paces away, joined the whispered conversation. “It’s strange, isn’t it? They’re more powerful together, but it’s like a ticking time bomb. How long before Diabolos breaks free?”

The captain sighed, rubbing his temple. “I don’t know. But I do know that when it happens, we’d better be far away from the blast.”

The planetary ruins loomed ahead, a vast wasteland consumed by Orochi’s relentless hunger. As the ship descended, the soldiers braced themselves, knowing full well that what lay ahead would be a battle like none they had ever fought before. But the real war, the one between Ruhan and Diabolos, was already underway.

As the landscape of desolation spread out beneath them, Diabolos instantly recognized the remnants of a planet he had once annihilated: Hebo, the sapient planet, whose cries for survival had echoed in his mind long after the destruction. Memories surged within him—fragments of lives extinguished, hopes dashed, and a vibrant world turned to ash.

"Surprised?" Ruhan’s voice cut through Diabolos’s reverie, his amusement masking a deeper concern. He could feel Diabolos’s distress radiating through their shared psyche. But silence greeted him, heavy and foreboding, amplifying Ruhan’s unease. Diabolos loved to talk, to connect. His silence now signaled something serious—either a strategic maneuver or an emotional upheaval. It was likely both.

Dio knew he was standing on the precipice of his worst-case scenario. The weight of his past actions pressed down on him, a suffocating shroud. He needed to be smart, to act prudently. Drawing on the energy that coursed through him, he summoned the Imagin Saber, its hilt warm against his palm. The blade shimmered with the potential of their combined power, but at this moment, it felt like a reminder of his burden.

As they landed on the planet's surface aboard a skiff, Ruhan’s curiosity pierced the heavy atmosphere. “How did you survive being severed twice?” he asked, his tone half-mocking, half-serious.

“It’s simple. I wanted to live more than you wanted me to die,” Dio replied, a hint of defiance in his voice. The comment earned a genuine laugh from Ruhan.

“God, sometimes I forget how stubborn you are,” Ruhan chuckled, but the mirth was short-lived.

As they approached the titan Orochi, laughter echoed through the barren landscape, cutting through the tension. “I have been expecting you,” the titan boomed, his form shifting and warping into something that was sure to wound them both: Aerith.

Diabolos felt a surge of fury, his body tensing as he instinctively dropped into a defensive stance. Ruhan faltered a flicker of sentimentality and lost love shadowing his expression.

“I knew this form would garner a reaction. Now let’s end this. I have a universe to consume,” Orochi declared, a predatory glint in his eyes. But before he could finish his sentence, before Ruhan or Orochi could even react, Diabolos surged forward, the Imagin Saber slicing through the titan in one fluid motion.

“Color me surprised,” Ruhan shouted, only for his exhilaration to quickly shift to terror as he felt something pull at him—a violation of the worst kind. In that moment of raw fear, Diabolos ripped Ruhan from his body, casting him aside like a discarded husk.

As Ruhan hit the ground, he felt cold, abandoned, and utterly helpless. Watching Diabolos, he saw a new light in his eyes—something he had never witnessed before. It was power, clarity, and a sense of purpose that made Ruhan crave retribution. He was filled with a need to reconnect, to reclaim what he believed was rightfully his.

“Wait!” Ruhan pleaded, moving toward Dio. “We are meant to be one. You are me, I am you.”

But Dio held him at sword point, the tip of the Imagin Saber glinting in the fractured light of the dying world. “Our deal is done,” he declared, his voice icy.

“B-but?” Ruhan protested, pain lacing his words.

Diabolos faced Ruhan and said, "I should kill you, but Riku wouldn't want that. So I will spare you this once with a warning: Leave me be and you'll live otherwise I will destroy everything you hold dear."

"Who cares about any of that garbage? it's all fleeting to what we had. that power. We were a God." Ruhan screamed in agony

Diabolos, unyielding, began to walk away, and as he did, Ruhan felt something shift within him—a hollowing, a deep sadness that threatened to consume him whole. At that moment, clarity struck him: he had mistaken power for unity. They had been at the top of the food chain together, but that bond had crumbled the instant Dio severed their connection.

“No, please don’t leave me,” Ruhan cried, desperation flooding his voice. “We are one! You’re everything I need! You can’t leave me behind!”

Dio turned his back on Ruhan, striding toward the skiff that awaited him. He signaled for Ruhan's empire to pick him up, his expression unreadable. It didn’t matter what the would-be conqueror’s change of heart was; Dio had made his choice.

As the skiff approached, the chasm between them widened. Ruhan’s pleas faded into the wind, a haunting echo that danced between the ruins of Hebo. The titan Orochi, once a looming threat, now stood in silence, witnessing the fracture of two beings who had once been bound by necessity and ambition.

In that void, Ruhan felt a profound loneliness settle deep within him, a weight heavier than any defeat he had ever faced. As he lay on the cold ground, the remnants of a planet he had once cherished, he realized that power alone could not fill the emptiness left by Diabolos’s absence. It was a lesson too late to learn—a truth swallowed by the shadows of ambition.

as his empire picked him up and brought him to Narset. Narset's eyes widened seeing the parasite alone.

"Where is diabolos?" she demanded?"

Ruhan groaned as his people put him back in Narset. What once felt like a fitting glove felt foreign and alien.

as his psyche overpowered and flooded Narset he lamented, "I finally had it all!" she yelled distressed. the power of infinity freedom from fear, and it's gone. now I am stuck, in this form. Ah, how could I have been so blind? Of course, he was hiding more power, but what kind? I have never felt anything like it. It was somehow whimsical but deeply ancient and terrifying. it was so uniquely him. I had it we had it, and it's slipped through my fingers again." Narset cried as she fell to the floor dismissing her people.

"What do I do knowing that such power exists? I can't live like this I need it Narset said as she clawed into her skin desperately searching her or Ruhan's memories for what could have given Dio that power.

Dio arrived back home later that night, stepping through the door with a quiet confidence that immediately caught both Jihyo and Voljune’s attention. He looked different—not just in appearance but in presence, like a man who had undergone a fundamental change.

The moment Jihyo spotted him, her eyes lit up, and she let out a joyful squeal, rushing to greet him. “You’re back!” she exclaimed, her voice filled with relief and excitement.

But as they drew closer, Voljune was the first to notice something unusual. Her keen eyes took in every detail—the faint glow in Dio’s eyes, the way his skin seemed more vibrant, healthier. Most notably, the twin’s presence was gone. She could no longer feel the subtle hum of Ruhan or the remnants of that alien parasite. His scars, the deep marks that had once been etched into his body like battle wounds, had mostly healed over, replaced by smooth skin. Even more striking was the intensity in the air around him, an aura that shimmered with power, like a star caught between implosion and explosion.

It wasn’t just power though—there was peace, a dangerous calm that made Jihyo blink in awe. She hadn’t felt this kind of energy from him before, something about it was… magnetic. Yet, despite the gravity of the aura, it didn’t push them away. In fact, both Jihyo and Voljune felt drawn toward him, as if he were the center of some invisible force field.

“This is… different,” Voljune murmured, a small frown creasing her brow as she stirred within Jihyo. “Something’s shifted. Ruhan’s gone… he’s gone. Completely.”

Jihyo nodded, her eyes sweeping over Dio, but instead of questioning it further, a soft smile broke across her face. “You look… incredible,” she whispered, her voice low with admiration. There was pride there, as if seeing him like this filled her with a sense of awe.

But before she could say anything else, Diabolos crossed the remaining distance between them in a heartbeat, his movements sudden yet graceful, almost like a predator approaching its prey. Jihyo gasped as he grabbed her, pulling her close. There was an undeniable heat between them now, something fierce and primal, radiating from him like the burning core of a star.

Without hesitation, Dio brought his lips to hers, and Jihyo melted into the kiss. There was nothing gentle about it—he kissed her with an intensity she had never felt before, the hunger and passion raw and unrestrained. His hands gripped her tightly, but not in a possessive way—more like a declaration, as if reminding her that he was there, fully present, fully alive. Jihyo responded with equal fervor, her arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him even closer as their kiss deepened. It was as if the world around them ceased to exist at that moment, and all that remained was the energy crackling between them.

Voljune felt surprised, a faint smirk tugging at the corners of her and Jihyo’s mouths. She hadn’t seen Dio this… free in a long time. The restraint he usually carried with him, the careful consideration of every move, was gone. He was living in this moment with nothing held back.

“Wow, okay,” Voljune muttered under her breath, catching her breath after the kiss. She stared into his eyes and felt his lust rise to the surface. The two beings understood in a moment and surrendered themselves to Dio. His crotch ground into hers during another kiss until they broke it and Diabolos said, “I need you both,” Jihyo and Voljune could feel the desperation in his touch. He needed her reassurance that she was there with him, and Jihyo/Voljune was ready to give it. She smiled as she took him in for another kiss she ground on his crotch where she could feel his bulge surging and ready to meet her folds. Jihyo yelped as he poked her

“Oh someone is very eager.” come on babe let's go to the bedroom. Dio followed her his eyes clouded by lust as she led him. She noticed a change in his touch the hesitancy was gone replaced by an implacable assertiveness and reverence for her that made Jihyo feel heat swell all over her. Dio brought her in for another kiss as they tumbled onto the bed. As they lay entangled in each other’s presence Jihyo smiled.

“With you by my side, I feel like I can take on the world and win,” Jihyo said as she started to take off her top emboldened by his presence.

“You can I know it,” Diabolos affirmed and Jihyo brought him to her chest. She moaned as his tongue swirled around her breast. They locked eyes as Dio switched to the other and Jihyo moaned. She pushed him deeper into her magnificent mounds hoping to smother him in her warm embrace as she continued to grind on his body. Jihyo moans content as Dio explores every part of her breasts and continues to lick massage and grope her mighty mammaries. When finally stops Jihyo pulls him up to her and says, “Let me fucking ride you.” Dio nodded as he opened his pants to her. Jihyo gets up to take her bottoms off. She straddles him and stares into his eyes. Where she sees a list of course but a renewed vigor for life. Jihyo smiled as she sank into his cock only for Dio to stand right up and begin thrusting into her. She moaned as she never knew he could so easily manhandle her like this. She groaned as his cock kisses her cervix with the tip before greedily taking him in for another kiss. She clung to him like a koala as he ravaged her insides with the vigor of an animal before he laid her gently on the bed and continued plowing her. He watched her delicious breast bounce as he fucked her until Jihyo screamed reaching her orgasm. Terrified he pulled out but Jihyo in the throes of violent pleasure grabbed him and said in unison with Voljune, “Put that cock back in me and cum in me or I will rip it off.” now even more terrified. (and aroused) by his girlfriend, he slammed back into her. Jihyo’s screams echoed through their apartment,

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” she groaned as Dio ravaged her and her eyes rolled back. Unable to hold back any longer Dio picked up speed and burst inside of her. Jihyo moaned as she felt him cum inside of her sending her into another orgasm. It was then that Dio realized that Jihyo had an impregnation kink. As every single time they fuck she wanted a creampie. Dio smiled and teased her saying, “You wanna be a mom so bad,” Jihyo’s eyes narrowed as she pinned Dio to the bed, and she began riding him. Her pace was ruthless as she took him in and out. Her eyes never left his as she rode him right past the refractory period into another arousal period. Her eyes filled with need as she demanded he fill her again.

“Please Dio give me a baby please,” Jihyo said as she rode. Diabolos for all his strength and power was helpless to stop her as she rode him again and again stringing out orgasm after orgasm until he passed out.

When the warmth in her core left Jihyo looked down to see Dio was unconscious. She chuckled as she got off of him. His cum having filled her womb with seed. She smiled as she lay next to the poor man sensually stroking his cock as he awoke jolting awake. Jihyo locked eyes with him as she never let go and kept nursing his rod back to life gingerly.

When they finally broke apart, Jihyo was breathless, her heart racing as she gazed up at him. “What… what happened to you?” she asked softly, her fingers brushing against his cheek as if to confirm that he was real.

“I moved on,” Dio said a bit perplexed and unsure of how he came to that answer but understanding it was the correct one. Jihyo and Voljune smiled as they lay next to Diabolos happy to see him so vibrant. He was different from the Dio he was before he was severed but the one that stood before them had a new glow to him that was undeniable.

[nicksolemnlyswears]

JUST TEASIN’

summary: you call joel an old man…amongst other names

pairing: joel miller x reader

word count: 4.4k [i need to learn how to keep things concise]

warnings: 18+, cursing, spanking, p in v, fingering, oral (male receiving), age gap? totally legal though, joel's in his early 40s and reader is in her early 30s, joel is an ass guy which is strange cause i always make my men boob guys, idk i guess this is pretty tame

a/n: as a joke i tend to call pedro and joel peepaw cause he’s older and a total dilf but i love these men so fucking much. i'll be the first to get on my knees

thought i’d make a sweet oneshot about how they’d react to you calling them old. it’s a mix of fluff and smut. a little something for everyone!

also don’t judge me, this is my first time writing for joel 🥺

there’s a little nudge to another favorite fictional men of mine

i want to thank @yxtkiwiyxt for providing me with all the pedro pascal pictures and gifs and movie trailers and for ranting with me all day every day about how amazing this human is… if anyone is to blame about this oneshot it’s her ❤️

It’s one of those lazy Sunday mornings where everyone sleeps in, leaving the Miller household at complete ease. There are no responsibilities to tend to and nowhere to go.

You’re the only one awake, singing quietly under your breath and flipping pancakes until they’re nice and golden. Joel will come seeking you out soon, missing the warmth of your body and Sarah will follow when Joel cracks her door open to let the sweet smell of batter waft into her room.

No matter how hard you try you’re always the first one up. Sometimes you stay in bed with your husband, tracing figures on his bare skin until he pulls you into him and kisses your head good morning, raspy voice begging you for five more minutes.

But most of the time you decide on getting up and having an early start to your day, which includes making breakfast and sorting through your work emails.

The puppy Sarah adopted a couple weeks ago, sits on your feet, licking your legs as if begging for the fluffy sweetness of the pancakes. He had a taste of it when batter dripped on the floor, he licked it up before you had the chance of cleaning it.

Lost in your little world, singing to the tune of Lana del Rey you fail to notice your husband coming down the stairs. Joel leans against the kitchen island admiring you in your distracted state. The loose brown curls in a disarray at the top of his head.

His eyes scan you from head to toe, noting your messy hair pulled up to a half ponytail half bun thing he can’t begin to explain. Down they go to the cropped tshirt with his company’s logo on the back. The frayed edges are the byproduct of your use of kitchen scissors to crop it yourself.

Joel bites his lip as he ogles at your ass and thick thighs framed by the tiniest cotton shorts he’s ever seen. They fail to cover the bottom of your butt cheeks, exposing a sliver of the indigo panties and the crease where thighs meet butt.

Unable to stay away, Joel wraps his warm arms around your waist as he presses a kiss to your temple. He squeezes you to him, bodies pressed flushed to reveal the stiffness in his pajama pants.

The puppy wags his tail in the presence of his favorite human, standing on two legs to call his attention. The man didn’t want him in the first place but was out voted by the females in the household.

“Morning,” Joel murmurs, placing kisses all over your cheeks and down your neck until he finally presses a warm kiss on your shoulder where he rests his chin to look over at the stovetop.

“Morning old man,” you say with a giggle as his scruffy beard tickles your skin. Your lips press against his in a quick kiss, muffling his sigh of disappointment.

“Don’t start, sweetheart,” he warns. His lips brushing against your ear. Joel’s hands find themselves under your tshirt, his thumbs ghosting over your underboob. At the same time the fingertips of his other hand teasingly dip on the waistband of your shorts.

“Or what?” You say with a bite to your lip, flipping over the last batch of pancakes. Couple more seconds and they would’ve burned—that’s how much he distracts you.

“It’s too early for this!” Sarah’s high pitched voice yells. “Not in the kitchen and not in front of the baby, please!”

The puppy scrambles over to Sarah, jumping into her arms. He recognizes she’s the one who will cave and give him scraps of food.

Joel, startled, takes his hands off of you, facing Sarah with an apologetic smile, not that she sees it as she covers her eyes with a hand. “Are you decent? Can I look now? I’m really hungry if you don’t mind.”

You laugh loudly, shaking your head at Sarah’s dramatics. She takes after Joel and is well on her way to beat him at his own game.

“We’re not doin’ anythin’,” Joel mumbles, sitting on one of the kitchen island stools and petting the pups fluffy head, and the ear that flipped over cutely.

“Not yet,” you whisper to him as you place his stack of pancakes in front of him.

“I heard that!” Sarah yells, covering her ears this time. Joel laughs, nudging her shoulder and telling her to pass the syrup.

You lean across from them, grabbing a sliced strawberry to plop into your mouth. Sarah takes over the conversation as you and Joel share a glance. This is far from over.

Later on the day you head outside with a tray of lemonade and pie in your hands. You’ve gotta take care of your dear husband before the Texas heat gets the best of him.

You nudge Joel’s leg with your foot. He’s under the beat up truck, fixing some odd part. He has the means to replace the old thing but he likes to remind you that ‘Betsy,’ as he’s named his truck, is a part of the family and will never be replaced.

“Thanks, darlin,‘“ he drawls, wiping his dirty hands on a random rag he found on the bed of the truck.

Joel takes a second too long to get up from the floor. You see the hesitance in his eyes as he tries to think the best way to stand without hurting or pulling a muscle.

This is your chance. “Need help there, grandpa?” You pipe up, resting the tray on the portable table scattered with tools.

Joel openly glares at you while you smile broadly at him. It’s not often you make fun of his age, or rather, the age gap between the two of you. It’s only when you’re feeling a particular sort of way.

The age gap between the two of you isn’t the craziest but it’s large enough for people to notice. Joel is easily through the first half of his fourth decade, while you are barely entering your third.

“Watch your mouth,” Joel warns you, standing up quickly despite the cracking of his knees and the ache on his lower back.

Your eyes spark when he grabs the glass of cool lemonade and begins chugging it. The drops of sweat sliding down his neck and into the damp collar of his shirt stealing your attention and any innocent thought you’ve might’ve had about him. They weren’t many to begin with.

You clench your thighs together as you imagine licking that same trail, tasting his salty skin. Say what you want but you love a man that works with his hands and gets all dirty and grimy.

Joel catches onto the glazed look covering your eyes and grasps your chin between his thumb and pointer finger. His body gravitating towards yours as if nature demanded it.

You’re overly conscious of the motor oil covering his hands if not you would’ve sucked his thumb into your mouth, reminding him just exactly you can do with your tongue.

“What’s in that pretty lil head of yours, darlin’?”

Him. It’s all about him. He’s always interrupting whatever sane thought you have. Scenarios of you being bent over the hood of the truck as he sinks his aching length from behind. You riding him in the front seat as you’ve done on more than one occasion, fogging up the windows. The time he was knuckles deep inside of you, teasing fingers drenched during his lunch break.

“How good gray looks on you,” you reply, diverting the conversation somewhere else entirely. A delicate fingers wraps around the charming curl that constantly falls over his forehead, twirling it around.

Joel doesn’t take kindly to your comment, rolling his eyes and clicking his jaw as he lets go of you to return to the truck. Your hand which had been playing with his curl drops to your side as you cock your hip to assess him.

He’s much too aware of the age gap, it makes him insecure. Like you’ll one day realize you’re with an old man and leave him for someone younger.

Except in your eyes he’s the most perfect man alive. The grey streaks of hair that mix with the typical brown of his curls give him an air of authority, making him look dashing in all ways. A silver fox. Strong muscles from working manual labor most of his life are now covered with a healthy layer of fat but remain strong nonetheless. Warm brown eyes that sweep you off your feet every morning as soon as they open.

That man is aging like fine wine and he doesn’t begin to realize it. You feel extremely lucky to be the only one to enjoy it…squeaky joints and all.

Joel is experienced and mature and loyal. He simply wants to have a nice life with his family. A family you’re now a part of. It’s all a woman could ask for.

“You know I love you,” you tell him, wrapping your arms around him as he leans over the hood.

“Love to torture me,” he scoffs, taking hold of one of your hands affectionately. He can never stay mad at you.

“I don’t know what you mean? I brought you lemonade and even that apple pie you love so much,” you feign innocence, pressing a kiss to the middle of his back.

Facing you with a sigh, he lets his heavy hands fall on your hips, “What’re you playing at?”

“Me? Nothing,” you say with a wicked smile, “I’m gonna go with Sarah to the mall to get her homecoming dress. Will you be alright here with Ghost?”

He’s quickly distracted by the words Sarah and Homecoming. His babygirl is growing too fast, starting High School and going on dances with boys. She hasn’t told him yet if she’s been invited by someone and he hopes it stays that way.

There’s no way he’s letting her go with a date and you can’t convince him other wise. If she wants a date she can take the puppy she adopted, Ghost. Joel is determined to teach the ball of fur how to defend his daughter.

“Here,” he says, pulling out his wallet to hand you his credit card.

“No, it’s my treat!” You say, pushing his hand away.

“Take it,” Joel insists, trying to slip it into the tight pair of jeans you’re wearing. Fuck. How didn’t he notice until now.

It should be illegal to wear jeans that make you look THAT good. The blue material hugs your thighs tightly and lifts your perky ass to heaven—not that you other wise need it.

He doesn’t hold back and slides his palms on your back pockets, giving you a firm squeeze. You stumble, falling onto him with a weak protest.

“‘M so fucking lucky you’re my woman,” he groans, taking another feel. Temporarily forgetting the conversation at hand, yet another comment directed at his age snaps Joel back to reality.

“Honey, I know I married an older man but it wasn’t for your money,” you tease again, patting his cheek and removing his hands from your pockets—credit card and all.

A sharp slap to your ass, startles you, eliciting a cheeky giggle. All this teasing and you’re leaving him home alone with the mutt.

You don’t apologize, you’ll never apologize for teasing him. Unless it’s in the right circumstances…in his bed.

Towards the end of the night you finish pushing him to the edge of no return. Remember, opportunities are always around when you’re determined.

“Dad, can you sign this for school?” Sarah comes into the living room where you and Joel are watching a movie. Ghost’s head is plopped on his lap, where Joel had been ‘forced’ to pet him.

“What’s this for?” Joel tries to read the paper but has to keep it at arms reach to be able to read it. Failing, he searches for his glasses until Sarah points at his head where they’ve been resting for half the night, nestled between his curls.

You stifle a laugh as you think of what to say. “Sorry Sarah, good old peepaw needs his glasses to read.”

It’s clear you’re pushing it far as Joel freezes only to glare at you. If looks could kill you’d be six feet underground. Sarah laughs until her belly hurts, repeating the word peepaw between breaths.

“You two are bullies,” Joel shakes his head in disbelief, signing the permit and handing it to Sarah who is wiping her tears away.

“I’m heading to bed, goodnight old man,” Sarah tells a pouting Joel, kissing his cheek and running up the stairs. “Come on, Ghost. Bedtime!”

“Peepaw? Really?” Joel raises his eyebrows at you when both Sarah and Ghost are gone.

You shrug feigning innocence, hiding your smile with the edge of the blanket. ”Yeah, peepaw. It’s cute.”

“It ain’t cute,” Joel kisses his teeth before turning off the TV and standing from the couch, leaving you behind.

“Where are you going?” You call after him.

“To bed,” he dryly responds, shutting off the lights and climbing the stairs. He only leaves the lamp by the couch on. How considerate of him.

“What? Joel it’s barely 10!” Hiding your satisfaction is difficult. Joel’s ticked off, a day of calling him old will do that. It’s exactly what you hoped for.

“Guess that’s what old men do, darlin,’” Joel says sarcastically half way up the stairs.

With a hand over your mouth, you follow him, “Honey, come on. Don’t be angry, it’s harmless teasing. Are you really heading to bed?”

Joel turns at the top of the stairs, glaring down at you, “You really think I’m an old man?”

“Technically speaking you are an older man,” you quip, scrunching your nose cutely.

“You know that’s not what I mean.” Joel crosses his arms, reprimanding you for your cheekiness.

“I dunno why you get like this, you should know I love my older men,” you say sultrily, although it falls on deaf ears as Joel retreats to the bedroom.

When you step into the bedroom you’re instantly pressed against the door, slamming it shut. Joel’s sneaky hands lock it. “You’re playing a dangerous game, darlin.’ Don’t make me bend you over my knee and give you a spanking.”

The thought alone makes you shudder in delight. Wetness instantly seeping into your underwear. You’ve finally succeeded. You have him right where you want him.

With your hands braced on his chest you deliver the final blow. “You sure your knees can take it?”

Disbelief flashes in Joel’s eyes, “That’s it!”

Grabbing your arms Joel leads you to the bed where he sits on the edge. He roughly pull down on your jeans, panties and all, leaving them pooled on your knees, limiting your mobility.

With another tug he lays you face down on his lap, holding your wrists behind you in a tight grip. Joel shakes his head at your upturned ass that’s waiting a little too eagerly for his touch.

Delight bubbles out of you and Joel is determined to take you down a notch or two. Let’s see how you handle this after fucking with him all damn day.

The first swat comes without warning, eliciting a gasp from you. It’s sharp and borderline painful. A red handprint magically appearing on your left butt cheek.

Joel massages and paws at the skin, getting ready to deliver another one. “Cat got your tongue?” He questions at your sudden silence.

You try to look over your shoulder and say, “Is that all you got?”

A sarcastic chuckle leaves Joel’s mouth. Then, three fast slaps are delivered, successfully earning him a whine from your pretty lips. He rubs on the sweltering flesh, easing some of the sting.

Finding their way to your thighs his fingers dig between them to cup your pussy. It’s no surprise that it’s warm, messy and slick. Clear strands extending from it to the inside of your thighs and covering his digits.

You’re a fucking vixen who loves to torture him for your own fucking pleasure and he’s the damn fool who falls for it each and every time.

“Touch me,” you huff, wiggling on his lap to grind on his hand, hoping to gain more contact with his coated digits.

“Touch you? Oh, darlin’ you’re not getting off the hook so easily,” Joel mentions darkly, retrieving his hand and landing yet another smack to your ass, making it ripple from the impact.

“Ow!” You flinch yet remain in the same position, expecting more. You fucking love when Joel gets rough with you. It’s a shame you have to gauge it out of him like this.

“Wasn’t this what you wanted? Hm?” Joel’s asks and when he doesn’t get a response his hand flies down once more. “What was it you called me?”

There’s a beat of silence before his hand strikes, this time aiming towards the middle. “Gra-grandpa,” you stutter at the small burst of pleasure.

“Mhm, what else darlin’?” He prompts again. His middle finger tracing the slit of your pussy, feeling you grow impossibly wetter. His pretty little wife is always so reactive to his touch.

“Old man.”

The stinging in your skin grows warmer, no doubt turning a considerable shade of cherry red. Yet the ache in your cunt obscures it all. The scraps of attention only makes your arousal worse.

“I think there was one more,” Joel hums, urging you on. His slick finger teasing your weeping entrance.

“P-peepaw,” you gasp when Joel pushes it in until his knuckle meets your delicate skin.

“That’s right, peepaw,” Joel repeats absentmindedly, pushing his middle finger in and out. Listening intently to the squishing sound your pussy makes.

He’ll have you calling him something else by the end of the night.

Tight walls grip his finger like a vice, refusing to let go. Soft puffs of air tumble out of your mouth and he knows your eyes are closed as you concentrate on the minimal pleasure he’s providing you with. It’ll never be enough to make you cum but it’ll keep you bothered.

“Get up,” Joel orders with a softer smack to your bottom, wiping his slick covered finger on your skin. He helps you up from the restrained position he kept you in and makes work of taking off your clothes.

Joel pulls and tugs on your shirt roughly, throwing it mindlessly across the room. He palms your tits briefly, pinching one of your nipples to make you whine his name. With cracking knees he kneels on the floor to help you out your jeans and underwear, kneading your thighs with his big strong hands.

He catches a glance of your reddening skin and feels a prickle of pride at the mark he left. Most of it will fade by morning but you’ll feel it nonetheless.

Sitting back on the edge of the bed he wordlessly motions you to get on your knees. A wicked smile spreads on your cheeks as you do as you’re told, kneeling between his spread legs.

Eager hands grasp his belt, undoing the worn leather to get to the button of his jeans. He provides no help, leaning back on his hands and simply watching you with hooded and expecting eyes.

You pull down on his jeans and underwear, revealing the happy trail that comes down his navel to the patch of brown at his pelvis.

His hard cock springs free once you’ve worked his pants down enough. A throaty groan coming from above you at the release of tension.

“Mmm,” you hum, grasping his length in your fist. His eyes meet yours when you look up to press a kiss to the tip, your hand pulling the thin skin back to reveal it.

“Stop with the teasin,’” Joel growls audibly, chastising you.

You rolls your eyes obnoxiosuly, “You’re no fun, g-“

A hand flies to your hair, gripping the roots tightly. Your eyes fly open, starting up at Joel. “You sure you want to finish that sentence, babygirl?”

“Maybe not,” you shrug with a pout, your hand mindlessly pumping his length.

“That’s what I thought.” Joel keeps his grip on your hair, pulling it back to see every detail of you taking his cock into your pretty mouth.

Your tongue goes flat against the underside of his shaft, tracing the vein that runs along his length and letting saliva drip all down and into your fisted hand. Joel watches intently as your lips wrap around the angry red tip of his cock.

You start off slow taking more of his length with each bob of your head. Your eyes never leaves his face, observing every small reaction he makes. The sharp intake of breath when your tongue grazes his tip, the furrowing of his eyebrows, the bobbing of his adam’s apple as he fails to keep his moans in.

The sudden jerk of Joel’s hips causes your eyes to water and screw shut. The initial intrusion of his cockhead unexpected yet welcome. Joel throws his head back, “That’s a fucking good girl.”

Those magic words make everything worth it as you messily continue to suck and lick every inch of his cock. Neither the tears in the corner of your eyes nor the saliva dripping down his length stop you from tasting him.

You swear you’re dripping on the floor as your pussy flutters at his pleased words. You could touch yourself but all your energy and attention goes to pleasing the man above you.

The pain of kneeling hard wood floor for an extended period of time doesn’t bother you and the ache on your jaw is barely noticeable because all your concentration is on Joel and making him feel good.

Joel continues to set the pace, his grip tight on your scalp. “Fuck, just like that,” he moans when you tease the crown of his cock expertly.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Joel’s voice lilts in a reprimanding voice.

A string of saliva connects you to the tip of him as your hand continuing to work on the rest of his length.

Joel takes note of your red rimmed eyes and flushed nose as well as in your swollen lips and moussed hair. The picture of you completely filthy and sexy.

Joel cups the back of your neck, bringing you up to his height. He brings you into a sloppy kiss consisting of teeth and tongue and saliva. Joel loves that can taste himself in your mouth. A job well done.

You straddle his lap so his cock grazes your dripping pussy, tugging needily at his tshirt. “Take it off,” you beg. Your lips separate for a brief second as the shirt comes off before they smash back together.

He complies but quickly reminds himself that this all started because you were calling him old. He can’t be quick to reward you.

You foolishly believe that’s it and you get to have him. Eagerly you try to sink into his cock but he holds you still, not letting you take him to the hilt.

“Who’s the tease now?” You pant against his lips, stealing another long kiss before whispering in his ear begging him to take you, to use you.

“I like to see you begging for it.” That’s Joel’s response as he pushes you off of him.

You protest but fall silent when he removes his remaining clothes. God you’re like a teenager desperate to fuck with clothes and all.

It drives Joel nuts the way you look at him with lust filled eyes. You bite your lip as you take him in all his glory, hands reaching to touch his chest.

He pulls you back to him, his cock wedged between the two of you. The saliva covering it, sticking to your skin. He cups your face, “You have something to say?”

“Nope.”

Joel to cos his head in disappointment, pushing you into bed and maneuvering you till your head is buried in the pillows and your ass is high in the air. It’s tinged a dozen shades of pink and red from his hands.

You wiggle your hips offering yourself to him. Air hits your pussy, giving you an idea of how aroused you are. That’s what happens whenever you have the pleasure of going down in Joel.

Joel grips himself, spreading his pre before pumping his hand. Smack. His hand flies down to strike your ass once more. Your back arches when Joel teases your entrance with the tip. He runs it up and down your slit, wetting it with your slick. He lightly pushes into you so only the tip is inside before he pulls out again.

“Please fuck me,” you plead breathlessly, attempting to rock back to get more of him inside you.

Joel laughs. “Now you’re nice and polite. Is there something else you want to tell me?” He asks expecting an apology.

“No,” you repeat stubbornly.

He’ll get you soon enough. There’s no way you’ll resist.

Joel’s cock brushes against your clit, making you jump and moan. He does it again and again. Your pussy clenches desperately wanting him inside of you.

“You sure? You don’t want to apologize?” He gives you another chance. Sinking his cock deeper into you to give you a taste before he pulls out.

You huff and pout but you can’t take it anymore. You need him. “I’m sorry!”

“Now, was that so hard,” Joel grunts, pushing his length all the way in, rewarding you.

You bury your head into the pillow, stifling the guttural moan that rips from your throat. You could die like this suffocated and blissfully impaled on Joel’s cock and be happy.

With a tight grip on your waist Joel fucks into you at his own pace, watching how easily you accept him, covering him with your essence. It feels fucking fantastic.

His skin slaps against yours rhythmically. You swear you can cum at that moment but Joel knows all your tells and he slows his pace, pushing into you only when the tip remains. Long, slow strokes keeping you from cumming.

“I wanna cum,” you cry out frustrated but he ignores you, edging you.

“If you want to cum tonight you have to stop calling me old,” Joel grits. This is torture for him as much as it is for you.

“I said I’m sorry,” you sob into the pillow, your back arching as you try and take matters into your own hands. Smack, another spank, warning you to stop.

“Will you stop calling me grandpa?”

You have the audacity to fucking hesitate. He’s serious about not letting you cum but he’s confident he’ll get you to cave in.

Joel pulls out his cock when you refuse to answer. He instantly misses the warmth and tightness of your walls. His cock is soaked with your slick, a creamy white substance covering him from root to tip.

Licking his middle and ring fingers he replaces his cock, feeling your walls clench around them. He pumps them angling them downward to reach that spot inside of you, his other hand pressing on your lower back so you arch more.

“Oh fuck,” you gasp when this thumb presses on your bud. An orgasm quickly building. “Please Joel.” You wanted to cum around his cock not his fingers but at this point you’ll take anything you can get. Your mind is completely clouded and years for release.

“Did you reconsider what you wanted to call me?” Joel curves his fingers, quickening the pace.

“Yes,” you whine as your hips grind against his hand.

“And what’s that?” His fingers are sticky, your essence dripping down his hand.

“Please, daddy,” you cry abashedly, hiding your reddening face in the pillows.

“I didn’t hear ya’ darlin’. How about you look at me when you speak?” Joel dares to say while his fingers continue to drive into you.

Fuck, your legs are shaking and the knot continues to tighten in your belly. You have to say it or Joel will stop. You turn your head to meet his eyes, “Please, daddy.”

“That’s more like it,” Joel’s raspy voice says, removing his fingers when you’re at the cusp once more.

You audibly groan in frustration but it’s interrupted when Joel eases his cock back into you Fucking you just as you want it, hard and fast.

The bed sheets are fisted in your hands as you hold on. Your nipples brushing against the bed with each thrust. It doesn’t take long at all for you both to titer over the edge. Your pussy squeezing tightly around him, milking him for all he’s worth.

When Joel pulls out you fall to lie on your stomach, catching your breath. He lies beside you doing the same. Sharing a glance you both start laughing.

“Next time you want it rough just tell me,” Joel shakes his head at you. He knew all along and yet it still pissed him off.

“It’s not the same, honey,” you sigh, kissing his shoulder. The nearest part of him you can reach without moving too much.

The following morning you wake up with a kink in your back and Joel being the ever loving husband brings you painkillers to bed where you’re lying still, “Take these grandma. They’ll make you feel better.”

He won’t ever call you ‘grandma’ again. The daggers you sent him were fucking terrifying.

listen...typically i'm not the biggest fan of the daddy kink...but when it works, it works

[alphajocklover]

InstaJock: Going Viral

**Hey! This is my entry for @occamstfs Viral Transformation Challenge. Congrats on getting 2,000 followers, and thank you for beta reading this and helping me edit it. I hope I can get to 2,000 followers myself one day! For those who are new to my stories, this does connect to the plot established in my blog, but the concept is simple enough you should be able to follow along even if you don't usually read my stuff! I hope you all enjoy!**

When I talk about the InstaJock App Phenomenon – which I seem to do a lot. What is this, the 17th InstaJock related post? I need to diversify more – I usually talk about the transformation aspects and not the app itself. That’s partially because the transformation is the most interesting and hottest part, but it’s also because I haven’t been able to take a good look at the app. Even with all the protective spells and equipment I have, I can’t use a phone with InstaJock on it for very long without getting an urge to set up an account. 

Until now.

With some help from the devilishly handsome (and literally devilish) Nick, I’ve been able to get my hands on some better equipment and better explore the app. I was able to spend a couple hours on it before I needed to quit, and actually got some very interesting information, mainly about how the app works post-transformation. I had always assumed that once a user got transformed into a jock, they’d ignore the app from then on unless they wanted to change someone. I was very, very wrong, not just about that but about the purpose of the app itself. It’s not just for making people into jocks: it’s for finding the best ones.

The app generally works like any other social media app, with its members posting about their interests. It’s set up is a lot like Instagram, where pictures and videos are the main format used for posting, but what really makes it different from other social media apps is the content. You can probably guess what an app full of buff cocky jocks looks like, but I’ll confirm it for you: the app is a thirst trap paradise.

The entire app is stuffed with half naked –  and sometimes fully naked – photos of buff jocks, ones of all different kinds. If you can think up a jock related stereotype, they have a full hashtag dedicated to it. Just buff jocks playing sports, flexing and making out with other hot people, for as far. I know that doesn’t sound too different from normal social media apps, as most have a healthy NSFW side, but the posts have more in common then just showing jocks. Each and every post, every one that I saw, mentioned a Master. Some were talking about how they were getting pumped up at the gym for Master, some were talking about how they loved being jocks and were so glad Master had found them, and some were literally begging for Master to notice them, often wantonly describing how they’d debase themselves and be the sluttiest jock ever, all for him. Everyone on the app would post at least once a day about this mysterious Master. It doesn’t seem to matter if the jock is a dom, a sub, a top, a bottom, in a relationship, single, gay or even straight, all of them wanted this mysterious unnamed master – so much so they seemed to completely change personalities whenever he is mentioned. It seems instaJock has an additional side effect I didn’t know about till now: complete and utter devotion to their Master.

It took me a while, and some covert interviewing of a number of jocks in their DMs, but I think I figured out what's happening. The Jocks aren’t just posting for fun, they’re competing with each other. InstaJock isn’t really a social media app, it’s a sort of ranking app. Every day the jocks log on, post a picture of themselves with a caption somehow related to their Master, and leave likes on some of the other posts, usually the ones they find hot. If a jock’s post gets enough likes though, they get what every jock wants, what all of them are trying to get. They get to Go Viral.

Going Viral on IntsaJock isn’t like going viral on a regular app. It essentially means you’ve gotten enough likes, been reposted enough times, and have become popular enough on the site… that Master has noticed you. That's what the social media part of the app is really for. It’s just a way for Master’s jocks to organize themselves so only the hottest ones show up on his feed. If he really likes you, he’ll do more than just look too. Soon that Jock will disappear from his regular life, never to be seen again, whisked away to become a part of Master’s personal harem. This entire time the app has been about one thing: creating lovestruck sex slaves for the man who created InstaJock.

Like most actual social media apps, InstaJock jumps from one thing to another, and what's viral is always changing. But there are two tags that are always trending on InstaJock. The first, and most popular, is #JockMaster, which is only ever used by this mysterious Master when he makes a post. I’ve seen his account. He never shows his face on it, but from what little of his body that makes it into the photos, he’s… enchanting. As much as I hate to admit it, seeing just a bit of that creep almost made me drool. He usually only posts a couple times a week, as opposed to the jock who posts daily, but everything he posts goes viral on the app in moments. I’ll admit, there's something about his posts that is just… hypnotic. I almost set up an account after seeing one myself, and probably would have if Nick wasn’t there to stop me.

The other tag that's always trending is… more interesting, at least to me. It’s #MastersBoyfriend. It’s another tag used only by Master, and one he uses whenever he posts a picture of one particular member of his harem. 

Whenever he posts pictures… of my Uncle John.

I finally know who took my Uncle. I know who this Master is. I suspected it was him for a while, but now I’m sure. The man who made InstaJock and the man who turned my Uncle into a slutty buff himbo are one in the same. I finally have proof.

So now what?

**The identity of the person behind InstaJock AND the person behind my Uncle's transformation and kidnapping has finally been revealed! Been working up to this for a long time, and I'm glad to keep this story moving forward! Hope you liked it as much as I do! Thank you to @occamstfs once again for being absolutely awesome and inspiring!**

[bcmbidani]

⊹ ࣪ ˖ BOYFRIEND HAMZAH HC’S

warnings: sfw and nsfw, sizekink

thoughts i’ve wrote whilst bored, i don’t usually post anything i write so if any of u guys like i appreciate it tehe.. maybe i’ll write more! i’ve been heavily inspired by blogs such as @cdbabymp3 @buuniebaby and @onlinesuzie , i love their works guys :( always feeding me with hamzah content. anyways this is just something small that i hope u like !!

sfw

boyfriend hamzah who never imagined he’d be clingy and touchy with his future partner, until you looked at him with big doe eyes and he knew, all he wanted was you.

boyfriend hamzah who messages you random updates of his day when your at work even though he knows you can’t respond. and when you remind him that you can barely check your phone at work he’ll tease you about being a smarty pants with your fancy job, smirk on his face and all.

boyfriend hamzah who isn’t much for pda but can’t help but keep a hand on you, whether it be your thigh or back or shoulder or hand, it just had to be you.

boyfriend hamzah who hates how much he loves your size difference, hates the way his masculinity skyrockets when you look so small.

boyfriend hamzah who sometimes let’s all those thoughts slip, making you compare hand sizes and pressing his hands against your waist to showcase the difference, doting you about how you’re so small.

boyfriend hamzah who brings you up any second he gets, to a point where there’s loads of compilations about him being obsessed with you.

boyfriend hamzah who was nervous about introducing you to the channel, partly because he didn’t want to hear a single bad word about you, but also because, no matter how dumb it sounds, he wanted to keep you all to himself :( (hamzah is y/n’s no1 gatekeeper) he eventually got over that, and introduces you as the channel began to really take off. now one of his favourite things is seeing how much love you get, enjoying the way he can watch people fall in love with you just like he did (he still jokes about how no one gets you like him and that the fans are newgens to y/n..)

boyfriend hamzah who loves seeing how camera shy you get, but also adores the way you become more and more comfortable on camera.

boyfriend hamzah who’s favourite thing is to take photos of you, any where, all the time, to where his camera roll is just filled with you.

boyfriend hamzah who forces you into all of his corny t-shirts, even though they’re huge on you, but he finds it adorable.

boyfriend hamzah who takes note of why your favourite things are your favourite things, whether you love that movie because of a memory or if that's your favourite song simply because you like the way it sounds. he takes the time to learn everything about you. to be loved is to be known, right?

boyfriend hamzah who brings you up whenever he can, bringing up a story involving you or just stating facts about you that slightly relate to the topic at hand.

boyfriend hamzah who tries to be quieter when filming if he knows your asleep or doing your own thing

boyfriend hamzah who views you like a breath of fresh air, aware that when everyone else is pissing him off, he can go home to you.

boyfriend hamzah who puts on your playlist whenever he misses you, each song connecting directly to you in his mind

boyfriend hamzah who also cries to you over the phone when he misses you..

boyfriend hamzah who holds you as you cry about your horrible day at work, listening to every word that pours out your mouth, and wishing he could hurt everyone who upset you.

nsfw

boyfriend hamzah who sometimes cries during sex.. but he can’t help it! you’re just so pretty and feel so nice around his cock and he’s missed you so much :(

boyfriend hamzah who loves to leave hickeys on your skin when he knows you’re filming a video or podcast with him the next day. it’s scandalous, he knows this, but it’s not like he’s trying to hide it.

boyfriend hamzah who acts all moody and protective when a guys been eye-fucking you all night, but when he gets back home you realise all he needs is some reassurance and release, letting him whine about how you’re his and he’s yours as he marks your skin and cradles you close, hips stuttering and desperate against yours.

boyfriend hamzah who notices whenever you’re needy (which, to his liking, is a lot), and lets you grind against his thigh or works his fingers in you until your satisfied, your pretty noises the best thing he’s ever heard.

boyfriend hamzah who gets turned on by your smile. don’t get him wrong, your body is so fucking hot, but that face? oh, he could admire you for days straight. it’s what he finds himself studying as he ruts into you, coaxing you to look at him like the good girl you are, and holding back a guttural moan at the face that meets him.

boyfriend hamzah who’s definitely a head pusher whilst receiving.. he can’t help it, you’re just too good and he can’t get enough! and if you’re looking up at him with those eyes then you can’t blame him! you’re gonna drive him crazy :(

boyfriend hamzah who drags you into the shower with him, and it’s usually innocent, he just loves this domestic shit, the way you insist on shampooing his hair and gently massaging his scalp, the way he does the same for you. but don’t blame him if he gets hard, how can he not when you look so pretty? and sweet, little you won’t leave him all worked up.. so okay, maybe he should stop dragging you into the shower if he wants to cut down on the water bill…

boyfriend hamzah always feels pathetic when you leave for a trip.. he misses you way too much. what’s he to do? he doesn’t want to bother his precious girlfriend too much. and he feels terrible when he calls you in the evenings and the mere sound of your voice gets him hard, he’s pathetic. pathetic as he asks you to tell him about your day in detail as he rubs a hand up and down his cock… but he won’t ask for anything, doesn’t wanna bother you!

boyfriend hamzah who keeps a pair of your panties in his bedside drawer for times like these.. he’s gross :( but he doesn’t know just how much you love it, even if he tries to keep it a secret (he can’t, you know your boy better than anyone..)

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hey um, what if the Overblot boys told each other their backstories?

Mmm… Well firstly, I think it would take a lot of effort to arrive at a point where all of the OB boys would even feel comfortable being that emotionally intimate with the others. Many of the OB boys are highly guarded and resistant to putting themselves in compromising positions. For example, I can easily see Azul being paranoid that the others would use his background as blackmail; he would not risk having his own vulnerabilities becoming public knowledge. Would Leona really be okay with being sentimental in front of various people he dislikes, especially Malleus and Vil? Would Idia feel safe unpacking his trauma and grief in front of his peers? Etc, etc, etc.

Secondly, I think that even if the OB boys were hypothetically at the point where they were okay sharing their backstories with the others, it wouldn’t change much about their immediate circumstances?? The OB boys generally don’t strike me as particularly… empathetic? At least not automatically empathetic. It’s something they would need to put effort into and actively work on. I imagine that they’d otherwise just pull a Zuko-style “That’s rough, buddy” or potentially even say something tactless that rubs their peers the wrong way (for example, not fully understanding the situation or even downplaying one another’s trauma). Riddle (someone with very little to no experience with social media and entertainment mediums) might not get how being a celebrity influences Vil’s life, Leona might insult Malleus (someone whom he has a bone to pick with), everyone might still be upset with Malleus for what he did to them in book 7. etc. Each OB boy only has their own experiences as the lens through which they see and interact with the world, and it’s not that easy for just anyone to put themselves in the shoes of another person.

Hearing a (for lack of a better term) traumadump doesn’t necessarily mean you’ll connect with it or understand just how grueling it was for the person who experienced said trauma. It would usually take a significant amount of time and reflection (ideally facilitated by a licensed mediator or professional) to digest those stories in group therapy and to make sure that everyone actually understands one another. A surface-level story retelling alone in most cases isn’t (again, for lack of a better term) “enough”, especially with how self-centered, emotionally immature, and different many of the OB boys are.

Think of empathy like a skill or a muscle. It isn’t innate. You need to develop it and train it, and not putting it to use can lead to atrophy. And given how arrogant and independent your usual NRC student is… yeah, it’s definitely going to be something for them all to work on.

If you want to think of it another way, it’s like how different players will react differently to reading the OB boys’s backstories. Someone who experienced bullying similar to Azul could more easily empathize with him while also not fully “getting” the full scope of other stories they hear. Maybe they can’t understand why Riddle still cares about the mother who mistreated him. Maybe they don’t see why Jamil sacrifices so much for his family. It doesn’t make the player a bad person for not understanding all the stories, it simply means they have a limited perspective. The same is true of the TWST characters; they, too, have incomplete points of views.

Maybe knowing their backstories in advance would change some scenes in small ways (such as book 6, when they split up and then butt heads with each other). They’d know where the other boys were coming from, and how that informs how they act in present day. However, I maintain that I think not much would change from the original. In a stressful situation like book 6, they could easily slip up and say something insensitive/make assumptions about their behavior based on their background/overlook or not even consider their background in the first place since they’re so focused on the current task. For example, Azul, feeling insulted that Riddle is underestimating him, could make a snide remark that just because his mother was a control freak doesn’t mean Riddle also has to be. Jamil could still see Leona as a spoiled prince because, despite being treated like an outcast, he still grew up in immense privilege as royalty. They can so easily fixate on their own interpretations of events that it colors how they perceive others, rather than how they can relate to others no matter how similar or dissimilar their experiences were.

In other ways, I think the OB boys sharing their backstories with one another stifles potentially meaningful development. Character growth in TWST isn’t a sprint, it’s a marathon, and we’re here for the long haul. What does depositing all the backstories in their laps achieve for the OB boys? It artificially puts them in a situation to “better know” their peers rather than let it happen organically or allowing them to grow closer through their own efforts. Let’s look at the Deuce-Epel beach scene from book 5. Do you think it would have been as impactful of a scene if Epel explained his life in the countryside and how he got his traditional views on gender norms to Deuce? Personally, I don’t think so. The scene we currently have has them bonding and connecting through a shared activity (shouting at the sea), then having a heart-to-heart without a heavy backstory exposition. It’s through that, not explicit backstory sharing, that the two form an attachment and become genuine friends.

Those are all my thoughts!! ^^

[captain-space-kin]

My take on the regional Sora’s trend! She’s an alien now >:3

I had no idea what to do for this initially, but then it hit me, I could just shove her into my OC story. If I have the motivation I might shove everyone else into it too! I roughed out some ideas for the main cast while working on this.

A (sort of) brief lore explanation and tag list under the cut o7 (also tumblr killed the quality so click for a better view etc etc)

A lot of this still a work in progress since I’ve been changing this species lore a lot recently, but! Starsino’s are a semi-aquatic vaguely amphibious + reptilian race, whose society at large bears a striking resemblance to Imperium (hence why I chose it for Sora). Their eyesight is not great, and as a whole the species used to have a sixth sense that would them navigate in difficult to see areas like underwater (similar to a platypus!). At some point the ✨Space Fae✨ (not an 100% accurate description but it’d take too long to explain their lore afshhdf) came down and gifted them the ability of True Sight. Which expanded their sixth sense to allow them access to telepathic/telekinetic abilities. Eventually the ✨Space Fae✨ got bored and left but also took the True Sight with them, which inadvertently cut off their species ability to access this sixth sense at all, which caused their entire society to collapse. Not everyone lost their “sight” but the majority of people did. Some people are still born with the sixth sense and even True Sight, they’re called Seers and True Seers respectively.

Nowadays there are two major factions of Starsino’s society, The Dictatorship, and The Cult. Both are trying to restore everyone’s access to the True Sight they’re just going about it a different way. There’s a lot more to it them this but it can basically be boiled down to a Science Vs. Magic thing.

Sora being born with True Sight (which is where her tech manipulation stuff comes in), is taken from her family as a baby and given to the Science People to experiment on. Eventually she escapes and makes it out of Starsino controlled space. Where she meets Arin! Who is just some human guy who managed to get off of Earth somehow, idk I haven’t really worked that all out.

Anyway! Gonna try to not let this be an all consuming project like my AU’s usually are, but it is oh so tempting

Tag list -

@Inspectorghoul @fading-through-existence @juniperjellyfish @carmelo-san @lightningchicken

@crying-over-cartoons @officercooks @mywasasi @ashclouds366 @basicallyjaywalker 

@finn-m-corvex @garmaballs

[verdemint]

People complaining on twitter about enea and most of the riders not being able to speak english, i dont care you know what? I hope they all decide to never use that language ever again :)

[godmadeaterribleerror]

Back to Here - No Love Lost One Shot

Series Masterlist

Author's Note: One-shot request from the amazing @afroslacks! Title from Shade of Yellow by Griff

Word Count: 1.2k

Summary/Warnings: Takes place in Chapter 14. We once again face the horny fluff.

When you’d told Ben you were okay with him touching you in front of everyone, your exact phrasing was as long as you’re not gross. You’re absolutely positive he’d heard you as well, because he’d rolled his eyes before kissing the words out of your mouth.

But the man doesn’t listen. On purpose. You know it’s on purpose, because usually he’ll grunt and grumble but do what you tell him, and right now he’s not even pretending to remember.

What’s annoying is that you’re not even that mad about it. What’s more annoying is that he knows you’re not mad about it, because he’s not even worried about you making him stop. Ben never pushes your lines to tries try see if he can make you budge, because he knows you won’t and he’ll get in trouble. But that also means he’s impossibly good at knowing what lines aren’t real. What things you tell him to do that you say because sometimes you just say stuff. Sometimes you’re just trying to pretend that you’re not always thirsty for him, don’t always want him at your side.

And the asshole has you figured out. He knows that when you say we’re going to team dinners every night you mean it, but when you say play nice with everyone you’re talking about everyone except Butcher. Ben knows that if you tell him clean up after yourself you’re serious, because that’s the start of it. Ben cleans up once and now, months later, you somehow trust him with your life and every part of you he’ll take. He also knows if you tell him we need to get out of bed he can just hold you tighter and you’ll immediately give in with a sigh.

He knows when you say not everything, not yet it’s important that he listens. That he can take everything else he wants except that, and he does. Ben touches you everywhere you’ll let him, but waits for you to give him the clear to take more.

He knows that when you said don’t be gross you just meant don’t make me visibly horny in front of everyone. Don’t make me grind into you or pin me on top of the table. 

And he is walking that line very precariously.

“Bloody fuckin hell,” Butcher mutters, and you can feel his glare from across the table. “You twats can’t keep it in your pants for one hour? Some of us are tryin to eat.”

“They are still in their pants,” Frenchie’s words are muffled from a mouthful of pasta. “And I am eating just fine.”

“That’s cause you’re a fuckin pervert, Mate.” Butcher snaps. “I didn’t come here to see two supes neckin like teenagers. I came here because Hughie gets all bloody puppy faced when I don’t.”

“You promised-“

Butcher cuts Hughie off with a scoff. “I’m here, ain’t I? And I would appreciate it if I could fuckin eat my shitty ass spaghetti without worryin that Soldier Boy’s gonna cum all over the table!”

A chorus of groans echoes through the room, and it’s almost enough to make you push Ben away.

Almost. But he drops his mouth to your neck, pulls you closer in his side, and you decide you can find a way to live with yourself.

You’re starting to worry that he can read your mind. Because before that brief hesitation even fades, Ben sucks the skin at the base of your throat once—sloppy and wet—and pulls away. You’re grateful, half because you can bury your flushed face in his shoulder as he gives Butcher a lazy grin, and half because you were getting dangerously close to climbing on top of him.

“It’s not our fault all you pussies have blue balls.” Ben drawls, and you kick him under the table, glaring up at his stupid, smug, handsome face.

Don’t be an ass.

He rolls his eyes. They’re being fucking prudes.

Benjamin.

“You two care to have this conversation out loud?” You turn to see MM looking at you with a bored expression. He’s never really pissed about this anymore, and you think he just gave up on being disgusted. He doesn’t like it, but he’s not mad. It’s honestly more than you could ask for.

“No.”

You whack Ben’s arm. “Sorry. We’ll stop.”

Ben scoffs, and hunches over his plate. His arm over your shoulders drops down, tugging you into his side so you can only move your hands—everything past that trapped against his body—and you don’t care. He’s touching you, and he’s warm, and you can feel his annoyance but it’s nothing compared to his desire. It’s nothing compared to the affection you can feel rush through him when you give him a smile, even if he just grunts and glares at his pasta like it’s the one that cock-blocked him.

You know it’s a lie. You might not lie to Ben, but you lie a lot to your team. You lie to Hughie when you say you like certain Billy Joel songs because you don’t want him to gape at you and try to convince you otherwise. You lie to Frenchie when you say you’d love nothing more than to hear about his latest supe-killing weapon, because he gets really excited—it’s kind of adorable—and sometimes it’s actually pretty interesting. You lie to Annie when she picks you up for lunch and asks—every time without fail—what’s going on between you and Ben. You say it’s complicated, but it’s not. It’s actually really simple: You want Ben more than you’ve ever wanted anything and he wants you but not like that, just as a friend he can fuck. And that kills you a little, so you’re trapped in this limbo where Ben can almost make you moan at the dinner table—but you won’t let him just carry you back to your bed and make you scream and fall apart under him—and Annie can give her a look that tells you she knows. She knows you won’t stop doing this. There won’t be more tonight, because Butcher’s still glaring at you and Hughie’s whole face looks like a tomato, but tomorrow the exact same thing will almost certainly happen. Ben will kiss you once, innocently enough if you’d only seen it in passing, and you’ll taste him, you'll feel the want pounding in his chest, and immediately pull him closer. The absolute fucking asshole always anticipates you keeping yourself against him—he plans on it—and his arm will immediately move over your shoulders, hand reaching your jaw to angle your head where he wants it. And then he’ll go and go and go until someone coughs—Hughie or Annie—or makes a remark—Butcher or MM—and he finds whatever line you have for the day. Then he’ll pull back and you have to pretend you’re fine with it. Like your pouting is because he’s being cocky and annoying and not because you wish he would pick you up and lay you on the table. 

It’ll happen the after as well, then again after that, then every night until Butcher either shoots one of you or you figure out a way to just attach Ben to you forever. 

End Note: They really can make any situation horny. Also if you've noticed I'm re-using gifs, yeah :( I am. Please sign my petition to make Jensen Ackles just do stuff in character so we can have more gifs.

If you like this story, reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3

If you want to be tagged, just ask!

Taglist

@manicjk @lordofthunderthr @artemys-ackles

[ominus-potato]

Need a universe where your MarWare fankid grows into a Tumblr sexy man like his tv dad.

Dunno about Tumblr sexyman but he’s pretty darn cute!

He grew into his eyes a bit although they’re a little red. He still has his noodle legs too but he can actually walk with them now! Just has a little bit of a limp. Head is still dented too. It’s not as obvious but the dents are still there. Also I changed his screen from green to red to get a bit more of Mario in there.

This is just my interpretation of how he’d look. I know a few people already have their own designs and headcanons for him so feel free to keep adding your own interpretation of this character. This is just how I imagine he’d look when he’s older.

Lore:

With the combination of Mario’s wackiness and Mr Puzzles creativity, SpagheTV managed to become a successful director at a big studio! Bigger than Mr Puzzles ever was. He mostly specialises in horror movies and he spent years away from home as he was building his career.

He didn’t see his parents for about 5 years as he was working abroad but then he finally saw them again at an event where he was accepting an award for his work. He was definitely nervous to see them. Part of him was worried that Mr Puzzles would be a little upset that his son had managed to out-do him in the movie industry but nope!

As soon as Mario spotted him, he ran over to him and gave him a big hug, crying about how much he missed him. Puzzles did the same, trying not to cry as much, and both are extremely proud of SpagheTV.

Sorry angst enjoyers! Everyone is a big happy family here!

(Again, feel free to interpret SpagheTV in your own way! If you wanna make him a crazy angst ridden broken child then go nuts!)

[lovecla]

IF YOU LOVE ME, LET ME KNOW | jack hughes.

how jack and soph support each other:

♡ author’s note: here’s a little something to everyone who also miss IYLMLMK before madison and quinn are yours completely! <3

—💋—

sophiamontenegro

liked by njdevils, troyesivan, mtv and 3,892,822 others.

sophiamontenegro help a priest and ride a devil. oh wait.

View all 20,390 comments

lovssoph when u have to support ur boyfriend but ur a fashion icon

njdevils Go Devils! 😈

_quinnhughes 🤦

sophiaswh0r3 jack can YOU FIGHT

palomahilton soph I swear to god I can make u my only one just one chance please Jack will never treat u as good as I will

americacogsworth im kinda new to soph’s fandom what does this mean 😅

montenegroworld @americacogsworth Sophia dates a NHL player called Jack Hughes who plays for a team named NJ Devils. She made a pun with their name because they’re playing tonight and she’s going. 😉

americacogsworth @montenegroworld oooh right, thanks!

morgan.grace give me a piece of that ass

jackhughes hope u meant that caption. Love you baby

njdevilsmeme @.jackhughes LMFAOOOOO WHAT

ilovehockey @.jackhughes ?????!!!!??? ts crazy af

user928203 @.jackhughes oh thats not-

sophiamontenegro added a new story!

—💋—

jackhughes

liked by _quinnhughes, nicohischier, trevorzegras and 239,192 others.

jackhughes saw my favorite singer today. Here’s to Soph’s first sold out stadium concert. Proud of you baby

View all 1,290 comments

sophiamontenegro wanna try some freaky positions?

jackhughes @sophiamontenegro well I’ve never tried that one :)

hughes43wife @sophiamontenegro @.jackhughes why are y’all always horny 😭😭😭😭

nicohischier Congrats Soph!! 🙂🙂

devilsfan438613 we got jack hughes openly flirting before gta6

lucy_william @devilsfan438613 baby let it go ur not getting gta6 any time soon.

user08293 honestly? Goals af

billboard It Couple 🥹🤩

—💋—

sophiamontenegro

liked by arianagrande, kyliejenner, lhughes_06 and 2,802,018 others.

sophiamontenegro casually hanging out with that one guy from the NHL25 cover. congrats babe (congrats to huggy bear and lukey as well!)

View all 19,019 comments

jackhughes 😈😈😈

sophiaspark MY PARENTS

sophiasunshine their Instagram’s turning into a fanpage for each other and I’m here for it

nhl We love you

_quinnhughes 👍🙂

hannahlucie WHN WILL I FIND MY JACK HUGHES IMMA KMS

taylorzakharperez Ouuu shiiii

morgan.grace congrats stinky pants @.jackhughes

jackhughes @morgan.grace go to hell

lhughes_06 thanks soph miss ya x

—💋—

jackhughes

liked by ellievlasic, trevorzegras, lhughes_06 and 201,012 others.

jackhughes Award winner during the day, professional hand holder during the night. Here’s to winning (another) VMA. 😉

View all 1,092 comments

puckbunny43 she’s living the dream omg

quinnyswife when will it be me and quinn 💔

jack86hughes 😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔 congrats iguess

trevorzegras congratulations Sophia!

h0ckeypucky32 @.trevorzegras normal Trevor comment???? What happened

laurahillay @h0ckeypucky32 maybe jack threatened his a$$. besides he’s been with sophia for three years now, zegras’s probably gave up

h0ckeypucky32 @laurahillay fair point tbh

morgan.grace I love u soph. Jack you’re alright I guess

[peachesofteal]

Hi Peach, I’m a long time reader and I just love all your stories and watching how they unfold.

I just wanted to ask quickly if you had thought about writing something under the same wavelength of Simple Math or Dead Disco, like with an anxious or shy reader, but with Kyle and John together?

Would they react and treat reader in the same way Johnny and Simon do? Or would it be different?

I know you’ve got a few stories on the go so if not it’s all cool, feel free to ignore this ask. :)

Also can I just say I love when stories link to their titles and the way your wrote it in simple math, just perfect. I can’t wait to see where this goes but I’m so nervous for Bun it’s not gonna be easy, but at least she has Johnny and Simon this time! 🩷

I actually love this and shelved it for possible future things. I can tell you 1. The daddy kink would be out of control and 2. Reader would be the most weepy bundle of anxiety. Work from home baby that is too nervous in the grocery store or on public transit. Doesn’t like when strangers talk to her. Can’t take herself to doctor’s appointments. Loves yoga but can only go to the studio when Kyle takes her. Manages fine when they’re gone though, reads and cooks and gets her groceries delivered, keeps the flat clean and enjoys her routines. Has a cat (loves Kyle but hates John because he’s always shooing her away) that keeps her company. She does fine on her own, well even, but it’s nothing compared to her life when they’re fully in it.

I think at home when Kyle is out of his expertise, his element, the place where he thrives, he also starts to develop some anxiety that manifests in a desire for control, which John allows, to an extent. John carries the weight of the world on his shoulders and instead of coming to bed, he sits on the back patio and smokes a cigar to the end until one of them comes outside to curl up in his lap or rest their head on his thigh. Dead Disco very much revolved around Darling, and I think this dynamic would be different. Everyone would need a little bit of personalized care.

Also thank you! I love working the titles in 🩵

[ellecdc]

Hi ✨️💖✨️ congratulations 🎉 i'm here for the drinks and was wondering if i could have super indulgent polymoonwater w barty comforting reader who is insecure about her small boobs please ☺️

Yes!! Thank you for playing 🫶

So I feel like, especially if regulus is cis-gendered in this scenario, neither he nor barty are going to really understand what it feels like to be self conscious of their appearance? Black’s are notoriously gorgeous, and though canonically Harry suggests regulus isn’t as pretty as Sirius (though the poor sod spends so much time talking about how attractive Sirius is that I don’t think he’s a reliable narrator), in my universe, he’s also gorgeous

Regulus immediately sort of shuts it down, ‘there’s nothing to be shy about, amour, none of us care?’ But like, that’s not the point you stupid beautiful man, yk?

Remus is sympathetic and offers knowing looks and loving smiles

Barty immediately starts trying to untangle the worry “well…are you upset that I don’t have big boobs?” - “well, no, but…” - “then why would I be upset that you don’t? Remus and Reg have even smaller boobies, but you don’t hear me complaining about that, do you?” - “it’s not the same, Barty”

“Okay” Remus interjects, seeing that the conversation is quickly spiralling out of control. He knows Barty always means to say the nicest things, they just never translate that way. “Barty has a bit of a point though, yeah? We all find very different things attractive, and having big boobs isn’t something we ‘require’ to find you attractive. You’re our beautiful girl.”

You let out an unconvinced sigh and lean back into your chair. “I love your boobies. They’re my favourite.” Barty proclaims. - “yeah?” You ask shyly, he looks at you like you’ve asked a sort of ridiculous question. “Well, yeah. I get to put them in my mouth?”

“Barty…” Remus chides tiredly, pinching the bridge of his nose as regulus offers a simple “ditto”, causing you to snort a laugh and Remus to start scolding everyone in Welsh, even though none of you know what he’s talking about

[leonscape]

ikepri as professors

jin- the chill professor. doesn’t really keep track of attendance. “come if you want to idk it’s your education.” he hates grading things so he doesn’t give a whole lot of assignments. he never misses a class tho. it’s very rare he cancels for the day. his office is always open and he wants his students to succeed.

chevalier- the expert in the field that does teaching on the side. some people say he shouldn’t be a teacher because he doesn’t know how. he just knows a lot of information but it’s hard for him to transfer that knowledge into terms that is easy to understand.

clavis- the professor that frequently cancels class because something urgent came up. has the craziest emails too. “hello students. please read the textbook pages 51-65. we will not be having class today because my brother fell in a hole that i dug and then my other brother fell in too trying to help him out. please email me if you have any questions. it might take me longer than usual to respond for obvious reasons but i will respond before thursday’s class. thank you.”

leon- the fun professor. textbook cost: $0. it’s very rare to have assigned readings. or essay assignments. his class isn’t very fun if you have a hard time sitting still for verbal lectures but he uses a lot of visual aids. he also uses a lot of videos and stuff so it’s not just him talking. but his projects are always fun. it’s usually a vague/broad topic and the students get to specify their topic.

yves- ugh yeah he does grade attendance. he has a sign in sheet and everyone has to initial next to their name. he starts teaching the first unit/lesson on day 1. he can never end the class on time. he’s always going over a few minutes after class was supposed to end. he’s very forgiving on the due dates though.

licht- the mf that never answers his emails (he’s really busy). it takes a while for him to grade things too. he only does online classes too so sometimes he’s not at his office. the quizzes are easy but they’re not open notes. because if you can’t answer simple questions without your notes, then you aren’t trying to learn.

nokto- cancels class because someone took his parking. also doesn’t answer his emails it takes him a while to respond. but he does give his phone number on the syllabus and responds faster there. also not very assignment heavy. maybe it’s just one sentence answers or a short poll to complete.

luke- bros a student he ain’t professor yet 🗿 jk if he was then i think he would also be a prof that cancels class a lot. he makes presentations and just reads off the slide. the tests are also pretty easy if you actually pay attention to the slides.

[haladriel]

so now we know his backstory I’m going to make a case for why Saurbrand didn’t think twice about abandoning Diarmid to his death for his own gain, but for some reason, only days or weeks later, dove to save Galadriel.

We are shown in season two that Sauron is mercenary and super calculating; he sizes everyone up for the best way to use them to further his own aims. And the way he’s now treating everyone else shows how different he was with Galadriel.

Diarmid’s fate shows Sauron’s ‘default’ — despite all Diarmid’s done for him in giving him a new perspective and offering him a new direction, when the situation veers a hard left, he wastes no time adapting and thinks nothing of acting strategically and taking the pouch. After all, Diarmid’s conveniently dying, and unlikely to survive a shipwreck anyway, what else is there to gain in service of his goals and nature that’s worth as much as a royal persona to adopt?

When you set this against how he treats Galadriel (i.e. didn’t leave her to die, which he very easily could’ve done), you’ve got to ask: what’s going on in there?

Maybe he thought he could use her: she’s a lot more skilled and important than Diarmid. She’s certainly proven herself capable in the sea-wyrm attack, where he no doubt values skill and competence in service of creating perfection and order, and keeping someone as powerful as her close is a wise political move. He very likely thought he could manipulate her, although he didn’t know how, or to what ends, quite yet.

Maybe he was simply interested in her. A member of the Golden House of Finarfin, out on the open sea? Since when? He might’ve guessed at the reason why; knowing that she was in the right direction for Valinor. An elf who has turned down the opportunity to go home? Unheard of.

Maybe, it’s the beginning of seeing himself reflected in her, when she sympathises with him about all he’s lost. He found himself being honest with her, in a way that he later does with no other; their first exchange on the raft was the beginning of that pattern. Maybe he is attracted to her, in this way.

Maybe it’s because why the hell not. At this point in the (now filled in) backstory, he is down and out and taking chances. Because his plan is going so well. And maybe the sea (Valar) will reconsider obliterating them if he shows some sign of repentance, holds a hand up. Maybe he knows the storm is for him, and feels some kind of ire and vitriol — ‘up yours’ — towards the Valar (‘that’s unnecessary, you heavy-handed bastards’) that they’re taking her out, as a part of that.

Maybe, it’s all of the above. And also, maybe, it’s because he’s already seeing some of that light he’s so fascinated by. In her kindness, her offering of sympathy to a stranger. And also, at this time, finds that he resonates with things she’s saying as much as vice versa. ‘You’re running. Whether towards or from something, I haven’t yet decided.’ After all, at this point, he’s temporarily diverted from his own crusade to get revenge on Adar; possibly running to, or away, from the Valar.

‘The way I see it, it wasn’t elves that chased me from my homeland. It was orcs.’ Turns out, it literally was. He’s really pissed off with his old family at this point and potentially (even just a little bit) wondering if there’s a better way. When he tells her the enemy is in the Southlands… they are. His enemy.

When you were betrayed by your closest, and everything’s gone to shit, and you meet someone who feels so similar to you, but who radiates light instead… how could you not be fascinated?

When everything you irrevocably are can be used in a different way, for a different purpose?

So he dives to save her.

(contributors to this thought train @multifandumbmeg @scifitheywrote)

[heybrownieboy]

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO: A MURDERER, A DEMON, AND AN ELEMENTAL?

POV: 2nd Person. Y/N.

— Word Count: 2K+

Author’s Note: Finally an update :). In all honesty, I’ve been struggling with getting back into writing lately— after not having time nor mental energy to in so long— but, I’ve also have felt awful going M.I.A for over two months. So, while I was working on this, I decided to break up what I do have and give you all this little update. I wanted to reassure you all that I am NOT giving up on this SMAU. At all. I will be continuing and finishing it. But for now, I hope you enjoy this. I apologize for it being short but, I promise the next chapter is much longer (once I’m able to actually put this one damn scene into words 😭).

“Do you honestly think this is a good idea?” 

You tore your eyes away from your TV—which was currently playing reruns of “Happiness”— and to the spirit siting on the couch next to you.

“What?” you asked. 

“Tonight,” Minho said. “Do you honestly think going to that shrine tonight is a good idea?” 

“Yes,” you said. 

“That caretaker is crazy, Y/N. Like completely batshit crazy."

“So I’ve heard,” you said.

“I mean it,” Minho said, exasperated. “I think he’s the one that actually killed Jisung and I.” 

Your eyes widened. “Wait what?” you asked. 

“I don’t remember a lot from that night,” he said. “Like at all. And I know you said spirits tend to forget more and more things the longer their earth bound.” 

You nodded at that. 

“But I remember some snippets of that night,” Minho said. “And I think he was there. I swear saw him for a spilt second. I was too shocked when I found…” He took a deep breath, an obvious expression of pain and grief crossing his face. “When I found Jisung’s body. So, I wasn’t exactly paying attention to my surroundings. I saw the caretaker run behind me from my peripheral vision. But, before I could react there was a rope wrapping around my throat.” 

“I thought you two were kidnapped?” you asked. 

“I think we were,” he said. “At least in a sense. Do you remember when Jeongin talked about that night he went to the mountain alone?” 

“He said he doesn’t remember the car ride there,” you said quietly. 

“Or half of his hike through the woods,” Minho finished. "Not until he heard Jisung. From what I remember, something similar happened to me.” 

“It was probably the demon controlling you,” you said. “They’re good at that. It’s like a semi-possession.” You rubbed your temples. “So I’m about to go spy on a murderer, a demon, and an elemental?”

“What do you think they’re doing up there?” Minho said.

“Honestly I don’t know. I feel like I don’t know anything. Everything for me with this whole thing has been guesses.” 

“Yet you’re still trying to help,” Minho said. 

“Of course I am,” you said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Why wouldn’t I?” 

“Because it’s dangerous and you could get hurt,” he said. “Or even die.” 

You shrugged. “It’s not the first time I’ve almost died.” 

“Yeah,” Minho said slowly. “What’s with that huh? How are you alive and have been to hell?” 

You winced. “It was a long time ago,” you said. “And in all honestly I don’t really like talking about it much.”

“I get that,” Minho said. “And I won’t push you to talk about something you don’t want to. Hell was the worst thing I ever experienced in my life. I mean, yeah I guess it’s Hell but, I never expected it to be like…”  He grimaced at the memories.

“Yep,” you agreed, completely understanding of what he meant. 

“I thought it was just going to be super hot.” Minho let out a humorless chuckle. “I wasn’t exactly religious before all this so, I guess I never really read up on it.”

“You could say Dante wasn’t too far off,” you said. “And I do think it’s a little different for everyone.” 

“Yeah. Sometimes Jisung and I would see different things.” 

You squinted at the spirit. “Have you seen any other spirits lately?” 

Minho tilted his head at you. “No actually,” he said. “Now that I think about it. The only one I’ve seen all week is Jisung. Why?” 

“Fucking hell,” you grumbled. You leaned against the back of your couch, head thrown back and eyes staring up at the ceiling. “I’m starting to think that’s what these rituals are for. Because in my twenty years of life, I’ve never gone a day without seeing a least four or five spirits. I’ve only seen three others— besides you and Jisung— in the last week. That’s it. And it been over a week since I’ve seen a demon.” 

“That’s not a good thing?” 

“God, I wish it was. But, no it’s not.” 

“Fuck,” Minho breathed. “So, what should we do? I knew this was complicated and dangerous but this? This seems next level.” 

“I don’t know…” You threw up your hands exasperated. “I feel like that’s all I’ve been saying lately. ‘I don’t know’. It’s so fucking frustrating.” 

“Hey, hey, hey,” Minho said softly. “You’re trying. You’re helping us even if you don’t have to. And so far you’ve done an amazing job okay?”

You have him a half hearted smile. “Thank you,” you said.

“Is there maybe any kind of research you can do on this?” he offered. “I mean, there has to be some answers out there somewhere right?” 

“Maybe,” you said. “I only have like an half an hour before Jay and Nico pick me up though. And kind of search isn’t something I have easy access too. Not to mention it’s the supernatural. Nothing is finite. There’s thousands of rituals out there. And thousands more that aren’t recorded.” You nibbled on the inside of your cheek nervously.

“You grew up in a family of Shaman right?” Minho asked. “Can’t you ask like an elder or something for help?” 

You scrunched your nose at that. “I don’t talk to most of them anymore,” you said. “But, I do have someone I could call. My aunt should be able give me some kind of advice.” 

You leaned over to grab your cell phone off the coffee table. It should be around five P.M in London right now. You scrolled to your aunt’s contact and hit call. It only took a few rings for the line to be picked up

“Y/N-ah.” 

The sound of your Aunt Bora’s gentle voice on the other side of the line immediately had you relaxing. The tension that had building up all day seemed to almost completely melt away. 

“Hi,” you said softly. “How are you?” 

“I’m doing great, honey,” your aunt said. “But what about you? It’s almost one A.M in Korea right now. Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” 

“I wish I could,” you said. “But I’ve been stressed out lately and couldn’t sleep.” 

“Stressed out about school?” Bora asked. “Because you shouldn’t be. I know studying to get your nursing degree can be challenging but you’re extremely intelligent, Y/N. You’ll make an amazing nurse in the future.” 

You smiled at that. “Thank you,” you said. You let out a soft sigh. “But that’ not the reason I called you. I need advice. On the supernatural.” 

“Oh? What do you mean? What’s happening?” 

“Do you remember those two men that went missing last year?” you asked.

“Yes,” Bora said. “Lily-ah and Natty-ah knew them through friends, correct? What were their names again?” 

“Lee Minho and Han Jisung,” you said. You glanced at Minho for a second. He was the one now leaned back into the couch watching you contently. 

“Didn’t you try to help find them last year?” your aunt asked.

“I did,” you confirmed. “But I couldn’t. I didn’t find a trace of them physically or spiritually.” 

“I’ve always found that strange. It’s almost like…” 

“Someone might have been hiding them.” 

“Exactly,” Bora said. “Did you finally find them?” 

“Kind of,” you said. “It’s more like they found me. Well, technically Jeongin found me.”

“Jeongin?” 

“Their friend. Um, how do I even explain?” 

“Start from the beginning yeah?” Bora said, her voice gentle. “Tell me everything you know.” 

And so you did. You explained how Jeongin originally had come to you or “Eris” for advice because he thought his friend was haunting him. How that turned out to be correct and that Minho was in fact trying to get through to him. You explained how you saw Minho and then had the premonition about Jisung. You explained their spiritual debt and how they were tricked by those three. How they had to escape hell and how half of their soul was stolen from them.

“So,” Bora said slowly, “you’re trying to help them break their spiritual debt and move on?” 

“Yes,” you said, with a slight wavier to your voice.

“But?” 

“But that’s not all. One of the trio he made a contract with was human. A living human. Minho is pretty sure that he’s the one that murdered them.” 

“Y/N,” your aunt said lowly. “You can’t confront a murder.” 

“Oh, I’m not done though.” 

There was a few beats of silence before your aunt asked, “What do you mean?”

“In the past week or so, I’ve seen three spirits and no demons,” you said. “Only one of those spirits talked to me. And all it did was ask for the time.” 

“Asked for the time? Spirits never ask for the time. Unless…” 

“Unless they’re being summoned somewhere,” you said. “I think they’re all being summoned to that mount Minho and Jisung went missing on. By the human.” 

“You think he’s summoning them all there for something bigger,” Bora said. 

“Exactly,” you said. “He’s been preforming rituals for about two weeks. At least that we know of. “

“He’s most likely a Shaman. A very powerful one. Rituals like that? They aren’t easy. At all.” 

“I know,” you said.

“And I’m guessing there’s more,” Bora said with a soft sigh. 

“The other two being they made this contract with are supernatural. One is a demon. But the other one, neither Minho or Jisung knew what it was. They said it was different from the demon.” 

“Don’t tell me…” 

“I’m pretty sure it’s an elemental, yeah.” 

“Y/N,” your aunt said voice now taking on a firm, cold edge. “You need to stay away from elementals. They can and will kill you if you ever get in their way. Forget the murderous shaman. Elementals are not bound to the same rules as demons. Not to mention they hate humans more than demons ever have.” 

“I know,” you said. “I do but…” You took a deep breath. “I cannot not help. There’s something seriously wrong.” 

“It doesn’t matter. This is your lif—“ 

“They have wards to keep away angels,” you said cutting your aunt off. 

“What?” she asked, utter disbelief overtaking her tone.

“Minho said that the mountain is littered in wards keeping angels out,” you said. “Namely Azrael.” 

“That’s impossible.” 

“You would think. At first he thought it was just the hellhounds being kept out. They got too close to the mountain and they were repelled, But he said that Azrael has not been able to get onto the mountain at all either. That the barrier the wards created repelled him as well.” 

The other line went silent. After a few moments you began to worry that the call had disconnected. 

“Hel—“ 

“I don’t like this Y/N,” your aunt said quietly. “At all. I understand Azrael is probably the last angel you want to see since… since all of that happened. But he’s still an angel. He’s still a protector. If you go on that mountain, you have absolutely no protection. Not against the Shaman nor the elemental.”

“I realize that,” you said. “And I completely understand that. But like I said. There’s something seriously wrong happening. I think Minho and Jisung were apart of whatever plan they have going on. Not to mention they’ve been talking about Jeongin. Another human life they most likely want to take. They’ve been planning this for at least a year now, Aunt Bora. Whatever it is, it’s huge. God know how many people will eventually be dragged into this."

Your aunt let out a heavy, defeated sigh. “Okay,” she said. “Okay. I know there’s no way to talk you out of this.” Another sigh left her lips. “ Let me think for a few minutes. Maybe I can help.” 

You smiled. “Thank you,” you said. “So much.” 

Your aunt simply hummed. After a few minutes she began speaking again. “How were those to boys killed? Do you know? I might be able to narrow down what ritual they’re trying to get ready up for.” 

“They were strangled,” you said. You peered at Minho for a second, your eyes focusing on the wound around his neck.. “Well, honestly it looks like the rope cut into their throats. They both have these huge infected gashes.” 

“Infected?” Bora asked. 

You copied her hum from a few moments ago. “Yeah.”

“Y/N, if they were dead, how could their wounds be infected?” 

< Previous | Next >

Of Chaos And Spirits Masterlist

Taglist (Open): @lily-loves-kpop @f9clementine @bookswillfindyouaway @lilyuwon @kpopjackie @i-dont-know-me-either @tirena1 @velvetmoonlght @whiteghostt @iambangchanswife @mehli-00 @chantalkkate16 @briar-rose23 @fic-for-readers @to-toad @fr34k4c1dr41n @jiryunie

©️heybrownieboy 2024

[iloveyanderes]

EVEN MORE YANDERE/SAGAU IDEAS!!!!!!!!!!! WITH A LITTLE LESS YANDERE ON THE SIDE😉 BECAUSE I FORGOT TO INCORPORATE IT BETTER

1.A girl gets isekai’d after a boy she’d bullied had enough and killed her. She woke up in the body of a really kind girl in genshin that everyone is obsessed with, she decided to pretend to be this girl as a means of survival, as these people would most likely kill her if they found out she wasn’t that kind little girl. Along the way She met a boy who ended up being her first true friend, making her realize what she has done and wrong giving her the courage to want to change. Just when she got better leading to the path of redemption the boy was found dead completely crushing any type of kindness in her heart, she realized all the genshin characters had killed him so she vowed to kill them all but not before ruining all of there lives first(I actually attempted to write this a long time ago on wattpad but it never went into fruition, so this might seem familiar)

2.Small sagau idea but it goes like this: girl has golden blood for a completely different reason then the sagau idea, ends up in genshin and everyone mistakes her for the creator and she's freaking out trying to convince everyone she's not the creator

3.Genshin impact x Ichigo from tokyo mew mew reader. With your transformation, cat ears and tail, and the actual ability to turn into a cat everyone is trying to get a reaction out of you(look online and you’ll understand why) I'd imagine yae would take advantage of it with the whole gorou situation as proof. Also there is no way inazuma doesn’t have a bunch of light novels or manga on magical girls

4.Dragon reader vs bird reader. You’ll get no further explanation

5.Sagau idea where instead of the reader being the creator they are a holy saint/saintness who's supposed to represent the creator as their prophet who will feel nothing but utter devotion when they see the creator. However on the day that you prophesied the creator would descend something goes wrong, when you lay your eyes on them the only thing you feel is fear and disgust. It’s immediately prevalent that This is not the creator but a demon, everyone else believes this to be the creator however so you can’t really do anything without the fear of being killed or worse, so you resolve to find the true creator while pretending to still love this demon. Meanwhile the demon is someone who always believed themselves to be better then the creator, they’re jealousy blinded them until it turned into envy where they wanted to be the creator. Quite literally trapping them down in hell when they were supposed to descend and taking their place. Since they want to be the creator that meant they had to be loved by everyone including you-especially you. The saintness meant to serve the creator and adore they’re every movement, so they casted a charm spell that seemed to work on everyone-except for you. It doesn’t matter they’ll do anything to get your love- because it belongs to them not that creator-they deserve that destiny

6. Not a genshin nor sagau thingy but what if a genshin archon reader accidentally falls asleep(can be any element you want but I chosen dendro for this) and wakes up thousands of years later where teyvat has become nothing but an empty shell, eventually you get picked up by the astral express after wandering the empty planet. you adventure all the new worlds, help the trailblazer while ignoring their weirdness, and find a way to mourn all your lost comrades. It’s discovered that elemental energy had mixed and muddled with each other eventually forming into something more murky and hallow which made the Aeons, you discover this when they start to hunt you down as there obsessed with you and the idea that your the last ‘pure’ being in the universe, something they want to obtain.