#hollowed minds mc

[shai-manahan]

sup

Ripper in a nutshell. For the whole story, even :)

And poor Alex in the background shaking his head way too hard it might actually fall off.

[snailtaco]

Fighting with two hyper fixations (and Nightmare King Grimm) so I took a break and threw them together

[full---ofstarlight]

listen i better be able to give him a big hug in chapter 5 oR ELSE

that's paint not blood this is a tame the beast game >:3c

[anxietytwist]

Morgan Ross

24 | Trans Man (He/Him) | 5'7" | Gay | ♥︎...

Fashion:

Notes:

Nickname: Firefly

💔 Finn Wesley

Morgan has had top surgery & takes testosterone (he was also on puberty blockers as a child).

Morgan & Alex have a good relationship despite everything that has happened.

Picrew used:

[m0onlustre]

You always belonged with me. - Sylus x reader

ᯓPairing: Sylus x female reader (afab)

ᯓGenre: pure filth, slight yan!sylus if you squint really hard, oc plot mentions, angst

ᯓ tags - WARNINGS: mdni, reader isn’t the lnds!mc, explicit sexual content, ooc Sylus (how his myth could be in my head), toxic relationship,  b/egging, f!receiving oral, p in v, unprotected sex, non-sexual choking, spanking, creampies, use of pet names (kitten, sweetie, angel), dirty talking, sylus refers to reader's pussy as "she"

ᯓExtra Warning: This story contains altered religious themes and biblical references that may lead me to hell. If you are religious or uncomfortable with the prospect of such writing, please, for your own sake, do not proceed with this story. Consider yourself warned.

ᯓWord Count: 4,6k

Centuries ago, you were banned from stepping foot in the place you once called home. You would do anything to return, and tonight was your chance to try your last resort: the man who had damned you to this position in the first place.

It wasn’t the first time you felt the unsettling sensation of being followed while navigating the N109 Zone. This place was notorious for its shadows—every corner seemed to harbor someone lurking, ready to pry into the lives of others.

You had grown accustomed to this unease; after all, this had been your home for years, both before and after the catastrophe that left the area hollow and desolate. In the aftermath, people became harsher, their kindness stripped away by the events that reshaped the lives of everyone in the zone.

Your feet carried you into one of the bars at the far end of town. You couldn’t help but stifle a chuckle at the absurdity of a security guard standing at the door. Everyone knew this wasn’t a typical nightclub—not that anything here could be considered “normal.” This establishment had a reputation as a bloodbath. The guards weren’t there to ensure anyone's safety of course, except for one man: The leader of Onychinus.

Onychinus was a mysterious faction entrenched in the N109 Zone. Unlike other shady groups, they were omnipresent, weaving a vast web of corruption that controlled every illegal activity within the area.

Sylus was not just the head of this dangerous organization; he was regarded as the ruler of the entire underworld. Whispers of his cruelty and insatiable thirst for power circulated like a broken record, echoing through the streets.

People were terrified of him, yet he intrigued many. Tales circulated about his almost supernatural presence—more than just a human leader, he was said to command the night with his sinfully crafted horns and shadowy wings that cast an ominous veil over the town, keeping it cloaked in darkness twenty-four hours a day.

Imagination was a double-edged sword; it could inspire or deceive. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes every time you overheard whispers about Sylus—tales that veered more towards horror folklore than reality.

The guard fixed his gaze on you, waiting for your entry pass to the club—or, more accurately, the colosseum that lay hidden beneath it. You brushed aside the blonde locks of your wig, letting the brooch of the zone glimmer against your dress, perched just above your chest.

His scrutinizing look was intense, and you could almost sense the gears turning in his mind. “How come I haven’t seen you here before?”

You maintained an expressionless facade, keeping your tone steady under his interrogation. You hoped that the extensive alterations to your appearance—from the wig and colored contacts to your evol that allowed you to adopt features from those you encountered—would obscure any resemblance to the posters plastered throughout the N109 Zone. The bounty on your head had sent ripples of tension through the underworld, but you felt surprisingly calm.

“I usually don’t have to watch business unfold, but tonight is special. You know what I mean.”

His eyes widened in surprise at the implication of your words, and without another word, he stepped aside to grant you entry. As you passed him, a sigh of relief escaped your lips. You silently thanked whatever entity governed fate that your deception had gone unnoticed. It was all too easy to make someone believe in your power when you wore the brooch of Onychinus and spoke the right lingo about their underground dealings.

Technically, you didn’t own the brooch; it was stolen. Yet, perched on your chest, it pretty much seemed yours now. You needed access to the inner workings of the N109 Zone, and now you had it—thanks to a clever ruse involving a brief fainting spell in Luke’s arms, where you knew he kept his brooch tucked beneath the leather of his uniform.

As you navigated through the thrumming crowd, the same unsettling sensation crept over you—the feeling of being watched. The intensity of the gaze made you squirm, though you weren’t afraid. Still, you weren’t naive enough to believe that things couldn’t escalate quickly in this dangerous territory, especially while carrying a stolen item belonging to one of the leader’s henchmen.

Scanning your surroundings, you located the secret passage that led downstairs, directly to the imposing double doors of the hidden colosseum. This was a place where fights occurred every night—not just any fights, but brutal spectacles centered around bets on altered and modified wanderers.

Once, this arena served as a testing ground for a wanderer’s limits, but it had devolved into chaos when the underworld began modifying protocores. They injected these enhancements into creatures, unleashing them to tear each other apart in front of a bloodthirsty audience.

The spectators were all too aware that most wanderers were not contained within the arena. For many, death was an inevitable risk they accepted when they chose to witness these horrific displays. People entered with a significant chance of never leaving.

Those who did survive not only walked away richer, based on the wanderers they had bet on, but so did the modifiers. Yet, the one truly profiting from these nights was Sylus. He monopolized the protocores, wielding an unparalleled influence over the creatures, ensuring they possessed the strength necessary to dominate any other fighters.

He was never present during the fights, always lurking in the shadows. You needed to draw him out, for he possessed something you desperately wanted—something you needed.

So, here you sat at the front, betting everything you had on a wanderer from a mysterious modifier who remained anonymous. The bet managers had eyed you curiously when you placed such a substantial amount of gold on a creature that wasn’t one of Sylus’s creations, especially from someone unknown.

You forced yourself to relax your shoulders and crossed your legs as the announcement echoed through the arena, signaling that the fight was about to commence. The massive bars on the left side creaked open first, revealing a wanderer from Onychinus. It emerged like a beast from the depths of hell, its massive form glowing a menacing red beneath its bark-like exterior.

Then, the bars on your side opened, and the arena fell into a tense silence, punctuated only by a few gasps. From the darkness stepped a lone human. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the imminent clash as you waited for the wanderer to attack your chosen fighter.

Snickers rippled through the crowd when the human not only failed to evade the incoming assault but instead stumbled back, his head slamming against the ground with a dull thud.

The impact caused the injected formula to rupture, and in that moment, the modified essence surged through him, transforming his body into a near-giant, nearly matching the size of the opposing wanderer. Veins on his bare skin glowed a fierce red, and his pupils elongated into slits reminiscent of a cat's, radiating an intensity that resembled molten lava.

Showtime.

It didn’t take long for Onychinus’s creation to be shredded to pieces, your chosen fighter standing triumphantly atop the remnants of what had once been a formidable wanderer.

A tense silence enveloped the crowd, and no one dared to breathe as you rose from your seat and made your way toward the exit. Just before stepping out, you turned to lock eyes with the victor in the arena, whispering softly yet confidently, knowing he could hear you clearly.

"Such a good job.”

The night air was brisk against your bare back, your dress clinging to your figure and leaving little to the imagination as you walked down the narrow alleys of the town. You could almost feel the moment the atmosphere shifted, a new energy surrounding you.

A smirk crept onto your lips as you heard the steady, heavy footsteps approaching from behind.

You turned your head slightly, speaking over your shoulder to give him only a glimpse of your profile and your back.

“At last, we meet again.”

A deep chuckle rumbled from his chest, his broad shoulders shaking with amusement as his gaze roamed over your form. You could alter your appearance as much as you wished, but he would never forget the sound of your voice. Yet, he seemed to struggle with the reality of facing you after all this time.

“Let me see you, sweetie,” he said, his voice deeper than you remembered, yet still carrying that velvety, sultry tone.

You turned to face him fully, crossing your arms over your chest. With a slight tilt of your head, you took in his figure. He had changed significantly over the centuries. He stood taller, with broader shoulders, and his muscles strained against the dress shirt he wore. His white hair, once reaching his waist, was now cut close to his scalp, with only the front strands long enough to fall messily over his forehead.

Sylus clicked his tongue in mild annoyance. “The real you.”

“I’ve changed,” you replied, your tone clipped and resolute.

He took measured steps toward you, closing the distance until you found yourself craning your neck to meet his gaze. His eyes lingered on your face, absorbing every detail. “I haven’t seen you in forever…” he whispered, his voice calm yet filled with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine.

Before you could react, his hand shot out, grasping your wig and yanking it away, allowing your natural hair to cascade down your back. “Don’t mistake our time apart as a reason for me to forget every single detail about you, kitten.”

You tried to steady your breathing, striving to appear unaffected by his words. Not once did you break eye contact with him as you allowed the energy of your evol to envelop you, restoring your true features and washing away the alterations that felt like long-forgotten memories.

Sylus’s eyes darkened slightly as he took you in, his hand rising to brush his knuckles against your jaw with a featherlight touch. “I believe you have something that belongs to me.” His gaze shifted to the brooch resting on your dress.

“So do you,” you replied, your words drawing his attention away from the stolen item on your chest. His brows furrowed into a small frown as he struggled to comprehend your statement.

Something clicked in his mind then, and he seized your hand, forcefully lifting it to inspect your wrist. There it was—the one symbol he himself wore, deeply carved into your skin. It glowed an angry carmine, signaling your fall from grace.

A huff escaped his lips as he locked eyes with you again. “Is this the reason you pulled that little stunt back there? You thought I wouldn’t find out about you being the mysterious modifier you placed a bet on?”

“This—” you seethed, leaning closer to him, your frustration palpable, “is your fault. I need to get back, Sylus. This isn’t where I’m supposed to be.”

“Oh?” His smirk turned diabolical as he pressed his chest against yours, his face inches from yours. “And where exactly are you supposed to be, sweetie? By his side?”

Your patience wore thin. “Yes.”

A deep chuckle erupted from his throat, devoid of any humor. “His little angel. Tell me, did you think of him, too, when you were clenching around my cock, as if you couldn’t live without me?”

Your gasp shattered the silence of the night, followed by the sharp crack of your slap against his cheek. “That was a mistake. You were a mistake, Sylus.”

His eyes shifted, the warm carmine hue darkening to an abyssal black, all warmth evaporating from his gaze. “I was?”

You didn’t respond to him immediately, taking a step back to regain some semblance of control over the situation. You struggled to keep your voice steady. “I need to get back, and you’re going to help me, Sylus. What we—what I did was a mistake, and I can’t let it keep me away from home.”

Sylus turned his head away, closing his eyes, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips as amusement wrinkled the skin at the edges of his gaze. “Was it really your home, sweetie?”

“It was. Just as it was yours, once upon a—”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence.” In an instant, he was back in front of you, his hand tightening around your throat. The burning symbol on his wrist glowed vividly, exposed by the way his cuff had ridden up during the movement. “That place was never my home. He never wanted me there; He only wanted to control me.”

“You’re wrong.” Your voice came out strained under the pressure of his grip, yet you didn’t flinch or attempt to remove his hand. “He loves you.”

“Is that why he banished me, hmm? Because he loves me?” His tone turned harsh, slicing through the air like a blade. “Does he love you as well? Is his love for you what sent you falling right after me?”

Your breathing grew erratic, each word he spoke igniting a fire on your own wrist. The more you allowed his words to penetrate your defenses, the more intense the burning sensation became. “We defied him, Sylus. You betrayed him most of all; you are the only reason you’ve fallen.”

His grip on your throat tightened to the point where you had to part your lips to draw in a breath. “Is this what you really believe, sweetie? The fallen angel, scorched by his own sins, sealing his fate away from his brother’s home.”

His eyes narrowed into slits, and you instinctively reached up to wrap your fingers around his wrist, struggling against the pressure crushing your windpipe. “I didn’t think you’d be as naive as them.”

“Sylus…” It was difficult to speak now; tears threatened to spill from your eyes. As if he had just realized the extent of the pressure he was applying, he relaxed his grip slightly, allowing you a precious gulp of air. “He can still forgive you. You just never sought him out.”

“You shouldn’t either, angel.” His thumb crept slowly toward your bottom lip, caressing it with a tenderness that felt foreign to his nature. “Do you forget all the times you sought me out? You've always known where your true home lies—by my side. You were always meant to fall with me. Fall for me.”

“No!” You struggled to squirm away from his grasp, desperate to create some space between you. Nothing was ever easy with him. All he needed to do was utter the right words, the incantation that could undamn you, granting you entry back into Heaven without the mark of eternal sin burning your skin.

He seemed almost pleased to see you after all those centuries apart, still trapped down here, far from the place you both once called home. You had foolishly fallen into his sinful embrace, and in doing so, had condemned yourself. He had welcomed you into his own home, promising you a place beside him on his throne, where you would truly belong—with him.

“Speak the words, damn it!” Your voice was nearly a plea as you struggled against him, but he was growing stronger by the second, and he had no intention of letting you go again.

“You don’t belong with him, sweetie. Don’t you see?” His breathing was calm, almost effortless, as he kept you trapped in his grip. “I would never abandon you like he did.”

“I sinned,” you breathed out, feeling yourself pressed completely against his body as he maneuvered you, forcing your back against the cold surface of the alley wall.

His taut form pressed against yours in all the right ways, his head dipping down to find your pulse point, nibbling at the sensitive skin there. Your breath hitched, and you closed your eyes, overwhelmed by a mix of shame and desire.

“Is this a sin, angel?” His teeth grazed your neck, and you instinctively placed your hands on his chest, attempting to push him away. “Your body was made to provide you with pleasure, so tell me… Why is this a sin?”

A whimper escaped your lips as he emphasized his question by sucking on your skin, his hips pressing forward to brush against your abdomen with his slowly hardening erection. The symbol on your wrist felt like it was igniting, the heat intensifying with every movement he made. “Sylus—”

“Shh… You’ve talked enough.” In an instant, his lips were on yours, a surprised gasp escaping you. He seized the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, his hands finding their way to the back of your head, pulling you deeper into the kiss.

As you surrendered to the moment, you sensed a shift in your peripheral vision. When you tried to pull away to catch your breath, your eyes widened in awe at the sight transforming before you, your mouth falling open. 

Sylus’s carmine eyes began to glow, a tearing sound echoing through the alley as massive black wings unfurled from his back, their feathers cascading down to the ground beside his shoes. Your heart swelled with a mix of awe and longing, unable to recall the last time you had seen him like this.

Your pupils dilated, drinking in the striking transformation. His wings, once the purest of whites, had morphed into a dark, charcoal hue, contrasting sharply with his blood-red eyes. Despite the sharp edges of his new form, he remained what everyone described him as; the most beautiful angel of all.

Before you could fully process the shift in the air, his lips were on you again, his hands roaming down your body with an urgency that took your breath away. You had half a mind to pull away, but the heat radiating from your skin was intoxicating. One of his palms settled against the back of your thigh, lifting it until it wrapped around his waist, granting him access to grind against your clothed cunt.

A deep groan rumbled from his throat, and you swallowed it into the kiss, your own moan echoing softly into the night. His head dipped lower, his mouth closing around your breast, the fabric of your dress quickly becoming damp with his saliva. He seemed ravenous, impatience evident in his every movement as he nipped at the fabric, sending jolts of pleasure through you that made your back arch, pushing your breasts further into his eager mouth.

“Sylus…” you moaned, your voice almost breathless, the night taking a turn you hadn’t anticipated when you first stepped into that colosseum.

“I can feel you soaking through my pants, angel,” he grunted into your chest, his hips driving into you once more. “You came here to ask me to deliver you back to him, yet you’re dripping all over me.”

His tone was possessive and almost feral as he threaded his fingers to the neckline of your dress, pushing it down until it rested beneath your breasts, exposing your skin to his eager lips. He began to lap his tongue over your nipple, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you.

Impatience bubbled within you, your body writhing and squirming against him and the wall as you struggled to make a decision. This was a mistake you had made before, one that had cost you your place in Heaven, yet you couldn't bring yourself to ask him to stop when your entire being buzzed with the pleasure only he could provide.

His white locks brushed against your collarbone, a teasing sensation that made you shiver. You seized the opportunity to tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer even as you tried to push him away, the conflicting desires overwhelming you.

“Don’t deny me.” Sylus’s voice dripped with lust as he locked his glowing eyes onto yours, then fell to his knees, lifting your leg over his shoulder. He positioned himself perfectly in front of your clothed cunt, his presence filling the narrow alley. “Embrace me."

“I—” You were breathless, your legs trembling as you took in the sight of him, the way his eyes glowed like embers in the darkness and how his wings loomed large behind him, dominating the space. It was impossible to resist him, yet a flicker of resolve still burned within you. “I can’t, Sylus. He—”

Before you could finish your sentence, he growled, his tongue darting out to tease your panties, and you buckled, a scream tearing from your throat as pleasure shot through you, leaving you gasping.

He glided his fingers along your damp underwear, the soft fabric clinging to you as he brought them up to show you how much they glistened with your arousal. “How dare you speak his name when she’s crying for me?”

You felt as if you were burning, heat radiating from every inch of your body as he tore the fabric with one powerful tug, leaving you bare before him. “Let me remind you what it felt like, sweetie.”

His mouth was on your cunt before you could catch your breath, his tongue lapping eagerly at your folds, devouring you like a man starved. “Such a sweet pussy, angel.”

You mewled and moaned in a symphony of pleasure, your senses overlapping until all that existed was the way his teeth grazed your clit and how his mouth enveloped you completely. The warmth of his breath against your skin sent shivers down your spine as you ground your hips against his face, seeking the delicious friction of his nose against your sensitive bud while he pushed his tongue deep into your welcoming heat.

“Sylus, please…” You didn’t even know what you were begging for, but he did. With a swift motion, he brought one hand up, slipping a finger inside you alongside his tongue. “Ah—Oh my God!”

Just as quickly as his mouth and finger were there, they vanished, and when you tried to protest, a yelp escaped your throat as a sudden stinging heat greeted your pussy. Your hand flew up to cover your mouth when he slapped you again, the sound echoing in the dimly lit alley, your body doubling over as you nearly lost your balance. It was only his wings that moved toward you, enveloping you in a soft, feathery sanctuary, steadying you against the cool, rough wall behind.

The tone of his voice was a stark contrast to the gentle caress of his wings as he spoke, a low growl rumbling from deep within. “Calling out his name when you’re begging for me?”

Your eyes widened in shock as the realization of what you’d done washed over you, and your hands instinctively tangled in Sylus’s silken white locks, guiding his face toward where you craved him most once again. “I’m sorry, Sylus, ‘m so sorry…”

Another sharp slap echoed in the air, and you felt an almost overwhelming wave of pleasure surge through you, making you believe you could reach your peak from that sensation alone.

Your frustration simmered as you watched him rise from the ground, his full height towering over you, but relief flooded you when you saw him begin to tug at his belt, loosening his pants around his hips, though they remained on.

Without thinking, your hands rushed to the fabric, desperate to rid him of it, but Sylus only smacked your hand away. His mouth found your neck once more, his breath hot against your skin as he whispered, “Do you want me to take you, sweetie?”

“Please—”

“Do you want me to corrupt you like I did back then?” His teeth grazed your delicate skin, igniting a mix of pain and pleasure that made you cry out. “You came to my altar once, and now you can’t seem to get enough, can you?”

You hadn’t realized the tears streaming down your cheeks, a blend of overwhelming emotions and bliss, until Sylus’s tongue lapped beneath your eyes, capturing each drop. With a swift motion, he freed his cock from the confines of his pants, rubbing it against your entrance. “You can trick your foolish heart into believing you hate me. That you want to go back, but deep down, you know I am your home.”

He finished his sentence with one sharp thrust, his cock fully seated inside you. A loud moan escaped your lips, and you could swear someone would come searching the alley, finding you pressed against the wall, Sylus’s cock shattering any remaining sense of sanity you had left.

He set a relentless pace, barely allowing you time to adjust as you felt your walls clench around him, as if he were your lifeline and you were desperate to pull him inside you forever. 

“Shit…” His groans came freely, raw and unrestricted, as he continued to fuck you against the wall. “I’ve missed you so much, angel.” He peppered your face with open-mouthed kisses, and your head tilted back, eyes crossing from the overwhelming pleasure.

“I—missed you too, Sy—” You struggled to form coherent words, your thoughts a jumbled mess of moans and whines, until the sound of approaching footsteps jolted you out of your blissful trance. You froze in Sylus’s arms, but your body reacted instinctively, clenching around him in a way that made his rhythm stutter for a moment.

He looked at you with a frown, but as he heard the footsteps, his smirk returned, and he picked up his pace. You gasped when you realized how close someone was, mere steps away from where Sylus was fucking you against the wall. His thrusts grew harder, his wings flaring out and slapping against the ground with the force of his movements.

“Sylus! Someone—” You tried to stifle your moans, but he was so deep that you could feel him pressing against your cervix, his hands gripping your hips with a force that would surely leave marks. “S-someone’s coming-”

No matter how alarming your voice sounded, there was no mistaking the way your walls squeezed his cock with each syllable. His eyes rolled back as he pressed a passionate kiss to your lips, whispering against them,

“You’re squeezing me dry, sweetie.” He breathed harder, his hand slipping down to play with your clit, drawing a cry from your lips that you couldn’t contain. “Does it excite you? The thought of someone coming along and seeing you like this?”

Your brain turned to mush under his double assault—his cock filling you completely and his finger teasing your pulsating clit. You struggled to hold onto yourself, but every brush against that sweet spot inside you sent waves of pleasure crashing over you, leaving you quivering.

“Do you want someone to catch you bouncing on my cock, angel? A sweet little creature making a mess on the Fallen Angel?” His thrusts became more animalistic, and in the haze of pleasure, you didn’t even notice that no one was nearing your hiding place anymore. Sylus kept pushing your sanity. “If only they knew that my cock was the reason you lost your own wings in the first place."

Your orgasm hit you like a bolt of lightning, your vision going white as you felt your pussy flutter and clench impossibly hard around Sylus’s cock.

“Fuck,” he groaned, losing control as his hips retracted slightly before plunging back in, chasing his own sweet release. “Just like that, sweetie, give it all to me.”

Your thighs trembled around him, your body on the brink of surrender as you felt his last vestiges of control shatter.

Ropes of thick come filled you, coating your walls while his wings enveloped your body, sheltering you from anyone who might intrude and keeping you impossibly close. He continued until you were overflowing with his seed, leaking down your joined bodies, creating a mess on both of you, your moans echoing in the silence.

“You feel like Heaven, sweetie. Too bad you won’t be making it back.”

[childrenofcain-if]

How would C react in a situation like this: There's a competition in school where C can finally show their superiority over MC, but as usual MC still gets the gold. The problem here is that C only gets a bronze. Someone else got the silver so it means that at during that time this fella is the closest one to MC and not them.

Please author give us angssst🤣😭

the lacroix heir had never tasted failure like this before, not in the way it gnawed at their insides like a bitter, unchewed pill.

the bronze medal hung around their neck, cold and heavy, an insult rather than an award. it clinked against their chest with each step they took down the deserted hallway, a mocking reminder of everything they weren’t.

C’s breath came in short, sharp bursts as they tried to swallow the sour lump in their throat. the walls of the prep school seemed to close in around them, the shadows stretching long and dark, like the ghost of their disappointment. their fingers twitched at their sides, itching to tear the offending medal from their neck, to fling it into the oblivion of a forgotten corner where it would rot along with their pride.

in their mind, C could still see you standing on the podium, that insufferable, calm smile on your face as if the gold was simply your due, as if you hadn’t even had to try. it wasn’t fair. it wasn’t right. you weren’t supposed to be so far ahead, so unattainable, so perfect in every way that mattered.

the silver medalist—a name they couldn’t even be bothered to remember—had stood between you and them on the podium, a tangible reminder of C’s failure, their inability to close the gap between them and their greatest rival.

C’s hands curled into fists, nails biting into their palms as they replayed the event in their mind. every move, every mistake, every second where they fell short. how had this happened? how had they let it slip through their fingers so badly?

as they walked down the hallway, each step echoed with their barely contained fury. they could hear the distant sounds of celebration, laughter, and applause—sounds that should have been theirs. but instead, they were alone, with nothing but the bitter taste of defeat and the knowledge that for once, they were further from you than someone else.

they couldn’t stand it. the thought that someone else had been closer to you, even in something as trivial as a science project competition, gnawed at them like a disease. C had always prided themself on being one of the best, on being the one who could keep up with you, push you, even if it meant pushing themselves past the breaking point.

but today, they’d failed. today, someone else had managed to stand between you and them. it felt like a betrayal—of themself, of the unspoken bond that had always driven them to be better, to be worthy of your attention.

the anger inside them was a living thing, curling around their ribs, squeezing until they couldn’t breathe. It whispered venomous thoughts in C’s ear, telling them that they weren’t enough, that they would never be enough, not for you, not for anyone. and worse than that, it told them you didn’t even care, that their defeat meant nothing to you, that you didn’t see them, not really, not in the way they wanted to be seen.

C stopped in front of the old, creaking door that led to the prep school’s trophy room—a room filled with dust and silence and memories of past victories that felt hollow now. they pushed it open, letting it swing shut behind them with a soft click. the darkness inside was a comfort, a blanket that wrapped around their broken pride and whispered that it was okay to let the mask slip, just this once.

with a strangled cry, they ripped the bronze medal from around their neck, hurling it across the room. it hit the wall with a dull thud before falling to the floor, where it lay like a discarded bandaid to the wound to their ego. C pressed the heels of their hands to their eyes, trying to push back the tears that threatened to spill over, trying to hold on to the last shreds of their crumbling dignity.

but it was no use. the tears came anyway, hot and searing, spilling down their cheeks in a flood of frustration and grief and something deeper, something they couldn’t name, couldn’t face. it was the loss of a dream, the shattering of an illusion they’d held on to for too long.

they sank to the floor, curling in on themself, arms wrapped around their knees as if they could hold themself together through sheer force of will. but even as they did, they knew the truth: it wasn’t just the medal that had broken C. it was you. it was always you. you, with your perfect smile and your effortless grace and the way you never even looked back to see if they were still following you and the silver medalist to the buffet table.

C wondered, bitterly, what you would think if you saw them now. would you pity them? would you laugh? or would you simply walk away, leaving them behind in this empty room, in this empty life of theirs, with nothing but the weight of their constant failure to keep them company?

C had always thought that being second to you was the worst thing in the world, but now they knew better. being third—being nothing at all—was so much worse.

---

the trophy room was tucked away in the farthest wing of the school, where the dust was thick and the air hung heavy with loneliness. the only people who’d usually visit were the janitors and the ones who were assigned to put a new trophy on the shelves.

you had wandered to the room by accident, seeking a quiet place to clear your mind after the hustle and bustle of the award ceremony. but as you stepped through the creaking door, you froze, your breath catching in your throat.

C was there, crumpled on the floor like a discarded piece of paper. their usual composure, the sharpness in their eyes, the way they always seemed to hold themself just out of reach—all of it was gone. instead, they were now raw, exposed, their shoulders shaking as silent sobs racked their body. the sight of them, so broken and vulnerable, sent a pang of something sharp through your chest.

they didn’t notice you at first. their face was buried in their hands, and their fingers dug into their temples as if trying to tear away the thoughts that tormented them. you had never seen them like this before, never imagined that the weight of always trying to be better, to surpass you, could break them this way.

“C,” you whispered, your voice barely audible in the stillness of the room. you didn’t know what you expected to happen—maybe for them to lash out, to throw your name back at you like a curse, to push you away like they always did. but instead, they just flinched, their entire body tensing as if the sound of your voice was a physical blow.

slowly, they lifted their head, and the sight of their tear-streaked face twisted something deep inside you. their pale green eyes, usually so sharp and arrogant, were red-rimmed and full of an emotion you had never seen in them before: a kind of despair that made your chest ache.

“what do you want?” their voice was hoarse, raspy, the words thick with emotion they couldn’t hide. “here to gloat about winning again?”

you took a step closer, your heart pounding in your chest. “i was just— i didn’t know you’d be here. i’m sorry.”

“sorry?” C lets out a bitter laugh, the sound hollow and brittle. “you’re sorry? you won, as always. what could you possibly have to be sorry for?”

the venom in their words stung, but it was the way their voice cracked at the end that made you want to reach out, to touch them, to do something to ease the pain you saw in them. but you didn’t know how, didn’t know if you even could. you had never seen eye to eye, always at odds, and now, standing here in the wreckage of their broken pride, you felt more like an intruder than anything else.

“it’s not about winning, C,” you said softly, your gaze locked on theirs. “it never was.”

“of course it wasn’t,” they spat, though there was no real anger in their voice, only exhaustion. “not for you. but for me… it’s all i’ve ever had.”

the words hung in the air between you, heavy and daunting. you could see the way they were struggling to keep it together, the way their hands shook as they wiped angrily at the tears on their cheeks, trying to regain some semblance of control. but the façade was gone, shattered by the weight of your presence and their own expectations.

you knelt down beside them, the cold marble floor pressing against your knees as you hesitated, unsure if you should reach out or give them space. the distance between you had always been insurmountable, but now it felt as though it was shrinking, leaving you both exposed in a way that neither of you were entirely comfortable with.

“C,” you began, the words coming out thick with emotion you didn’t quite understand. “you don’t have to do this alone.”

C’s expression crumpled at that, the anger fading into something more fragile, more painful. “i was supposed to beat you,” they whispered, their voice barely audible in the quiet room. “this was supposed to be my moment, and i couldn’t even do that. i couldn’t even come close.”

you felt a pang of guilt, a deep ache in your chest as you looked at them. “C, you’re not—”

“don’t,” they cut you off, shaking their head. “don’t tell me it doesn’t matter. don’t tell me i did my best, or that you’re proud of me, or any of that bullshit. it matters to me. it matters more than anything.”

“i wasn’t going to say that,” you replied, your tone is soft but firm. “i was going to say that i know how hard it is, being compared to someone else all the time. but, C, you’re not in third place to me. you’re not even in second. you’re…” you hesitated, searching for the right words. “the truth is that you’re the one i’m always looking out for. the one i can’t stop thinking about, no matter how many times we come face to face.”

C blinked, their eyes narrowing slightly as they didn’t quite believe you. “i don’t need your pity, star kid.”

“it’s not pity,” you said exasperatedly, shaking your head. “i’m saying it because it’s true. you push me, C. you make me want to be better, and i thought… i thought maybe i did the same for you.”

“you do,” C whispered, almost too quietly for you to hear. their gaze fell to the corner of the room, where their medal lay in a sad heap, and their shoulders slumped. “but it’s never enough, is it? i’m never enough.”

you reached out then, placing a tentative hand on their shoulder, feeling the tension there, the way they trembled under your touch.

“you’re more than enough,” you said, meaning every word of it. “you’re brilliant, and talented, and so much stronger than you give yourself credit for. not to mention a force to be reckoned with in chess.”

C laughed softly despite themself and looked at you, really looked at you, as if seeing you for the first time. the anger and shame in their eyes had dimmed, replaced by something softer, something that might have been hope.

“you really think that?” they asked, their voice small, almost childlike.

you smiled, a warm, genuine smile that reached your eyes and almost took C’s breath away. “yeah, i do. and one day, you’re going to see it too.”

C’s breath hitched, and for a moment, you thought they might cry again. instead they slumped forward, their head resting against your shoulder, the last of their ironclad defenses crumbling. it was as if all the fight had drained out of them, leaving them hollow and empty. their body trembled against yours, and you felt the wetness of their hot tears soaking into your shirt, each one a testament to the shame and pain they had tried to hide for so long.

you wrapped your arms around them, holding them close as they finally let themself get every emotion out. the anger, the jealousy, the desperation—it all poured out of them in a torrent of sobs that seemed to tear them apart from the inside. and all you could do was hold them, feeling helpless in the face of their grief, knowing that nothing you said could make this any better.

the rivalry between you had always been about more than just winning or losing. it was about the need to be seen, to be acknowledged, to be something more than just a reflection of each other’s ambition. and maybe, for the first time, you were starting to see C for who they really were—someone who had spent their whole life chasing a shadow, only to find that it had led them nowhere.

you held them tighter, wishing you could take away their pain, wishing you could’ve hugged the scared and bruised little kid from fifth grade. so you stayed, because that was all you could do now and somehow, to C, it felt like it was enough.

[demonsword586]

Leviathan Attacker part 2

Walking down the hallway with a stomach full of Leviathan was an experience you didn't know whether to call exhausting or exhilarating.

With each step he took,Leviathan's cum oozed from between your buttcheeks and dripped on to the floor.

MC: Urgh,ugh,ugh....

Your moans in time with his footsteps also made the quiet hallway noisy.

He strode forward as if there were no doors or walls in the corridors of the palace of Hades.

And if a door stood in his way,his subjects would appear out of nowhere like ghosts and opened it for him,silently bowing.

MC: ( What the Hell is happening in Hades...no,to Leviathan today?)

But no one could hear your question and even if they could,you thought they woudn't answer.

After passing through so many doors that you coudn't even remember how many there were,you felt you had reached the very depths of the palace.

Barbatos: Ahh,you came,MC!

MC: Barb,ugh..tos?...

A few steps ahead,Barbatos greeted you at the door,the largest,most beautiful and most intricately decorated door you had ever seen.

His sunny smile was still there,but the only diffrent thing was that he had lowered his eyes and didn't look your way.

MC:(Is this consideration for me or his king?)

Even at this moment you were absorbing the gaze of another handsome man without even realizing it.

He quickly opened the door, making sure Leviathan didn't hit it and let him inside.

MC: ( This is....?!)

The moment he opened the door,you inhaled Leviathan's scent all at once,as if you had struck your nose inside his head and felt your mind go into a trance.

His scent lingered strongly in the room,as if he had sprayed a heavy perfume made from his body odor.

The room that seemed to be in the deepest parts of the palace of Hades,

Had a completely diffrent vibe than the darker corrodors and halls of Hades.

MC: (It's really snug,cozy and comftrable!)

It fwlt like a cradle of a child and also the bedroom of a newlywed couple.

MC: (Bedroom...?)

You instinctively noticed that this was Leviathan's bedroom.

MC: ( Satan and Mammon said that 'Leviathan sleeps in a narrow coffin'...were they joking?!)

Because Leviathan was still inside you,you were walking while he penetrated you.

Barbatos: MC...Your Majesty....I hope you take a safe rest at a safe place.

Barbatos's sunny smile remained intact as he lowered his eyes,but there was a brief cruch of grinding teeth.

Baam!

The door slammed shut with a slight,but hard-to-point-out sound.

And the next moment.

MC: Levia-...!

The name that you didn't even finish calling,it was your last word. Leviathan's lips had swallowed your voice.

It interrupted your words,but you replied to his kiss as though you had been waiting for it.

Although no one was interrupting,no, when this palace and perhaps all devils in this country were helping.

Leviathan and you pressed your lips together,swallowing each other's lips and breaths hard like you were in a hurry.

Creeaak!

When Leviathan lay you on the bed with his lips on yours,

The mattress of the bed groaned behind your back as it tried to aupport your weight and Leviathan's at the same time.

Leviathan's penis slid out of your hole as you shifted from being held and penetrated to lying down.

MC: (He suddenly left me...)

You felt hollow inside,empty,but Leviathan's kisses alone made you frantic.

What's more,as the thing blocking the entrance dissapeared,the enormous amount of cum Leviathan had filled you with gushed out,making you shudder,completly overcome by the unfamiliar sensation.

As you lay there,seemingly trapped in Leviathan's arms, you briefly wondered if he intended to squash his entire body and not only his tongue in your mouth.

That's how much he has pressed you,frantically absorbed in the kiss.

As he pressed more and more of his weight against you,your legs naturally spread wide to the sides and Lwviathan took his place between them.

Somewhere...Warm...

Leviathan spoke to himself with an expression that was at once maddeningly focused and equally dazed.

Leviathan felt both murderous and affectionate toward the being infront of him,lunging for something hot and waem that was filling him at the same time.

You felt your breath catch in your throat as Leviathan's tongue curled around the root of your tongue,meeting your lips without the slightest hint of seperation.

You reached out and let your fingers dig into Leviathan's hair,then grabbed a hanful of the sweaty strands.

With your other hand,you hastily unbuttoned Leviathan's shirt.

The unbuttoned hem of the shirt brushed against your stomach and the tip of your chest, sending shivers down your spine.

Then just as you thought you were concentrating on the kiss,Leviathan suddenly grabbed one of your legs and lifted it over his shoulder.

You reflexively squezzed your inner thighs together which made you spread your legs even wider.

MC: (Ah,this is embarrassing!!)

Even in this state,Leviathan bend over and kissed you.

Leviathan: (I should go even deeper)

Just as Leviathan acted like a beast ready to pounce at his prey.

Your eyes locked with Leviathan's,which seemed to have no focus,mainly moving faithfully to his desires.

In that moment,you felt the uncontrollable lust that Leviathan was feeling in the addition to the perversity and lust you already had,spread to you like fire.

MC: Leviathan...come...deeper inside me! Give me your everything!

Leviathan: Deeper...where it's warmer...

Leviathan slowly straightened his back.

And so your eyes were filled with the sight of your leg draped over his shoulder and the sight of Leviathan's face which was not at least bit disturbed by what he had done to you.

Fwop-!!

MC: !!!

Once again,his pole penetrated you again and filled you inside.

Your toes twiched as your legs surged into the air.

You coudn't even manage a moan as you felt your toes twich in embarrassment.

Each time Leviathan rocked in you,your body shook and scream-like moans filled the room.

Spawled out on the bed with your hair disheveled,you didn't know what expression to wear at this moment.

But after a moment of useless consideration,Leviathan leaned forward a bit more.

The delicate eyebrows filled your field of vision instead of the ceiling and at the same time,the pressure filling your insides increased.

MC: (This is...visual bombardament...It feels...fuller on the outside than the insides...)

Leviathan: I like your face...

Your image filled Leviathan's vision.

By then,Leviathan has somehow managed to see you through his glazed mind.

Leviathan: You are the daughter/son of Solomon...You shoudn't be in Hell...

Leviathan growled to himself.

Leviathan: If there is a 1% chance...that you're a danger,you must be destroyed. You are a danger...better to kill you right here...

Leviathan uttered terrifying words,but his action said otherwise.

But with eaxh thrust of his hips,each time your moans echoed louder beneath him,his impatience ebbed a little.

Creak,creak,creak!

Despite being the sturdiest,most solidly made bed in Hell,the frame cried out as Leviathan strained against it,unable to withstand the force.

Even the sound was stimulating and you grabbed Leviathan's forearm as you squezzed your eyes shut.

Rhen you could hear more vividly the squeking and gurgling noises Leviazhan made as he engaged with you,

Because the end of his pole was still dripping with cum,unabated from earlier.

Fhe music that echoed in the hallway,but somehow didn't play in this room - the sound of flesh against flesh,the squeak of the bed,seemed to lick your ears.

[interact-if]

Are there any works where an RO intended to woo MC for personal/ulterior motives but ends up falling for real?

Hi Anon!

There are a handful of games that fit what you are looking for:

180 Files: The Aegis Project by @scribble-games

Andromeda Six by Wanderlust Games

Body Count by @bodycountgame

Hollowed Minds by @shai-manahan

Project Hadea by @nyehilismwriting

Reaper's Bay by @reapersbayif

The Eight Years Revolution by @eight-years-revolution

[cosmicstarlatte]

Havent made a request in a while so would it be fine if I requested:

MC punishing Belphie by giving oral to Beel infront of him?

-BelphiesMeanDom

Hi BelphiesMeanDom!! ^^ I hope you've been doing great!! ♡ I was so excited to do this one!!!!!!!!! 💕 tysm for the request! ♡

nsfw 18+ only mdni

Lessons // bj (face fuck), cum in mouth, cucking belphie lol, beel x gn reader

"This isn't fair! I'll be good! I'll do it next time!!!" Belphie whined, pact-commanded to sit still next to you & Beel on his bed. Belphie's throbbing cock stood tall & swollen, leaking pre-cum down his length while you continued to suck his twin brother off. You were nestled comfortably between Beel's legs, your knees cushioned by their rooms soft carpet.

You let go of Beel's cock with a small pop & glanced at Belphie, continuing to stroke his brothers fat cock, never losing rhythm. Beel whimpered quietly at the loss of your warm mouth.

"What's not fair is you making sweet Beel do my laundry when I asked you to do it. Seems like he deserves a reward." You returned your attention to Beel, running a slick tongue up & down his cock, eliciting a small groan from him. He instinctively pushed his hard large cock into your face wanting more.

"Beel what the fuck!" Belphie turned his attention to his brother, "You can't do this to me!" He spat shifting into his demon form, still unable to do anything as he sat frozen in place watching the lewd show in front of him.

Normally, Belphie didn't mind sharing you with his brother. Sometimes willingly choosing to just watch when he didn't fully feel up for tag teaming you. But this time was different; you paid him no mind whatsoever & he couldn't even touch himself. At least let him do that.

Beel hummed & spared a guilty glance at Belphie before your soft voice caught his attention once more.

"Beel, look at me. Not him." You batted your lashes up at him, fondling his balls with one hand, using the other to tightly grip & stroke his girthy cock. "You do want me to continue, don't you baby?"

He let out a content sigh as you ran your tongue along his slit, collecting the salty drops of precum that beaded at the top. Beel nodded as he gave in to you, grabbing his cock & gently smacked his fat pink tip against your swollen wet lips asking for more, "F-feels good...please."

"Hey, come on! " Belphie cried out.

"Ignore Belphie baby, you know he needs to learn his lesson," you cooed, massaging his thigh & pressing more kisses to his pretty pink tip, "just enjoy this okay?"

Beel moaned as you finally swallowed him whole again, warm wet tongue sliding against every vein, making his nerves jump with pleasure. He threw his head back & gripped the sheets as you bobbed your head up & down, cheeks hollowed taking his entire massive length. Your moans vibrated around him, making him feel dizzy from how good it felt.

"...So good...need more." He panted, placing a large hand behind the back of your head as he stood up from the bed, his cock slid further deep down your throat, making you gag & tears well up your eyes as your nose pressed against his pelvis.

"Mmffh—!?"  your eyes widened in surprise & before you knew it he placed his other hand on your head & held you firmly in place. "S-sorry— can I — ?" He breathed out as he slid out your mouth before snapping his hips, pushing his cock back in & filling your throat.

"—haah!" Beel repeatedly bullied his cock into your mouth, grunting & losing himself at the sweet delicious warmth of your tight throat. You breathed hard through your nose as you looked up at him with hearts in your eyes, (pleasantly) being used aggressively by the normally sweet demon. The two of you completely ignored Belphie who continued to whine in the background, you both couldn't really be sure nor bothered with whatever he was saying.

"Ahh so close~ n-need to cum, please" his hips stuttered & your fingers dug into him, helping him push his entire length down your throat.

"F-fuck! I'm, I'm cumming!" He moaned & panted heavily as you felt his cock spurt warm ropes of cum down your throat. You eagerly kept bobbing your head up & down for more as he whimpered & continued bucking his hips into you.

"S-sensitive!! R-really good! Ah-! Cumming again!"

You felt Beel cum once more, emptying the rest of his balls. You gasped for air as he slid his softening cock out, watching as he groaned & shuddered falling back onto the bed. You licked your lips clean for any precious essence of his, just in case.

The two of you heard soft panting & glanced at a flush faced Belphie. His own milky release painting his stomach but his cock still furiously red with hints of purple, cock aching to be touched. You smirked, as he whimpered when you ran a finger along his swollen cock; coating both your finger & his tip with his precum before stopping.

"Next time, do as your told. C'mon Beel, lets get you something good to eat, I'm sure you're starving." You said as you fixed your hair.

Beel perked up at the mention of food & quickly buttoned his pants, fixing himself up. You latched onto his arm & started naming places to eat as the two of you headed out the room, but not before popping your head back in once again,

"You can move now Belphie."⬦

⬦You might also like: Choking Belphie︱Monster MC x Belphie︱Masterlist︱

[azulsluver]

I just binge read your bully au for twst and OMG! What if MC ends up cracking, going numb to protect themselves. They still do as told, but they have sky eyes, no emotion. Who would keep pushing to see them fully break, or who would just dump them like trash!?! Hell, who would enjoy them losing the fight in them!

tw: yandere, bully!characters, blood mention, unhealthy relationships/behavior, victim blaming.

Disclaimer, you don’t actually want this n stay safe from people like this!

Continue tormenting for fun:

Leona

Doesn't take you seriously. That's it? You're giving up already, gosh you really can't do anything by yourself...Leona is less than disappointed, in fact he knew good things would come to an end. But you still serve some purpose to him, Leona can't find himself to throw away his favorite toy, some things are just meant worth keeping. Even when broken and used.

Sebek

I don't think he'd catch on very quick, how you follow his instructions yet when the heel of his boot hits your back you make no sound of pain. Sebek should've known humans were too weak to handle his training, being pushed a little really got you that gone? This will only give Sebek the advantage to harm you further, he likes taking his frustration out on you without you screaming.

Lilia

You lasted longer than the others, and he'll applause you for that. Lilia doesn't necessarily hate this new you, embracing it but continues to see just exactly how far you can go. You're only in a shell, and he's not dumb, Lilia will stare longingly into your hollowed orbs, there is still a hint of you. Hiding away from him, Lilia is only fueled to either have you brain dead or back.

Rook

You're absolutely divine, he'll say as he wipes the trickling blood on your lips. You can't fool Rook with those dead-beat eyes, in fact this new look is beautiful. Rook craves for more of this expression you possess, he's seen you smile and cry, he wants to unravel more until you actually break. Rook has done some research on how the human mind can shut down when pushed into pressure, the thought of your alive yet corpse like body not instructing as told, he knows you're still in there.

Jamil

Jamil is conflicted with himself, you're alive but not yourself. A part of him enjoys the fact you won't refuse his affections. But did he really want this? Don't get this the wrong way, Jamil still prefers to beat you into submission, a sick part of him loves you so much yet he can't reciprocate his feelings to you. Understanding that this new you, will help ease his overwhelming emotions, he doesn't need to pretend anymore. Your clouded eyes are what he loves best.

Vil

Recents posts of him explain that Vil absolutely needs you just to take his anger out on. He’s in love with you no doubt, but embarrassment shames him from normally communicating with you. So even if you were emotionless he’d find some use, because he can’t get rid of you no matter how badly beaten your skin is. It’s you, and he’ll have no other person.

Epel

Didn’t know how to react at first. Epel kicks you a couple of times to see how you’d react. I think he because you aren’t responding to any of his criticisms does he ponder. He’s smitten with you, creating a fake narrative on his behavior that what he’s doing is ok, when he’s well aware it isn’t. Keeps you around because your nice to relieve stress from, doesn’t mind if you aren’t screaming and crying.

Toss them away (but he'll start thinking about you then wants you back eventually):

Jade

What a shame...he knew it was a bad idea to share with Floyd. You broke so easily, so fast, just when things were getting good. What good of an experiment if they give the same reaction, you aren't screaming as much as he expected. And the worse part is you listen to exactly what he asks for, there is no hesitation or breaking down to crying, you really are willing to cut off your hand? How boring.

Floyd

Frustrated, acts as if he didn't expected this to happen. Floyd is throwing a huge tantrum once he finds out you don't kick or scream at him. He misses the terror in your eyes when he asks you a question of such, now you're giving him a blank look! Not safe to say, if Azul or Jade wasn't there, you would've been dead for good, Floyd can't handle the fact his shrimpy is lame now. Out of pure anger, he would let his feelings get the best of him.

Kalim

At first he wouldn't notice your change of behavior. But that spark in you is gone now, Kalim doesn't want broken things. You were fun to play with, because he usually got high off the power he held over you, his stress toy won't even give him a proper bark. I mean you do bark, just not with enough enthusiasm. Like a fussing child, Kalim would have you thrown out, until he starts to miss having you beside his feet....

Cater

Makes the saddest noise when he notices how little you react to his touches. Slaps your cheeks a couple of times to make sure. Dramatically mourns over your past self before rudely telling you how you weren’t gonna last long with him either way. It’s been a nice ride with you he says, leaving with a kiss on the forehead. It’s cruel but depressing, because on his end he’s up at night staring at the photos of your more lively self. He misses those terrified eyes..

Enjoys the new MC and somewhat stops:

Riddle

The fire within you finally died, no more to fuel to feed. Just burnt ashes laying pitifully on the floor, grimy and unusual. Riddle is relived, he had proved a point to himself. All of his hard work to make you into the perfect person, docile and understanding. Riddle now has no reason to push you, you're at your fullest degree. You do as told, and no one gets hurt, physically and emotionally. (he's just like his mom frfr)

Ace

At a sense of peace. Once Ace understands that you are no longer you but a fragment he's thrilled. His mean names slowly die down, much more softer and cheesy when talking to you. If you're still there, disgusted or not he'd lay his head on your shoulder and mumble to you how much of a coward he was to confess. But all went well, the paranoia of you rejecting him gone. I mean what else can a lifeless you do?

Deuce

Has no other reason to bully you. You’re doing things just as he wanted and he couldn’t be happier. Like Ace he was paranoid of your rejection. But you don’t stray away from his rough hands massaging your cheek, kisses that bruise your lips. It’s heaven for him, he wouldn’t trade it for anything else.

Malleus

He didn’t think you’d break so fast. Malleus barely lays a hand on you yet his words cut deep. Perhaps you finally learned your place, all that hard work and learning how to court a single-minded human like you payed off. You won’t have to face the wrath of his verbal abuse because he’s nothing but sweet to you. You look lovely no matter how bad it gets.

Ruggie

Ruggie didn’t go extreme measures to hurt you that bad. Maybe he got to you before the others could take advantage of your newfound persona. Like he always do, Ruggie takes care of things. By things he means you. Sure you’re practically not yourself anymore but it’s still you in some shape and form. His words won’t mean nothing to damage you, so now you’ll be taken under his care. Best person to be with in this situation.

Idia

Shitty attitude stopped so quick. Was leaning more to tossing you away but Idia gets attached quickly. He would never admit but you’re his favorite pastime everything, he can’t ditch you. So eventually all of his bullying stop because there is nothing to get a reaction from. Much more calmer and talkative around you. It’s nice knowing you aren’t actively judging him as he talks, no cover ups to be douche.

Jack

Once the numbers of people targeting you goes down does he step in. Jack is worried, genuinely. I think reader being emotionless snaps something inside of him, does he claim to protect you fully and run away from everyone else. His guilt that you turned out this way eats him, but he downs it out by telling himself you brought too much attention now he must clean the mess up.

Silver

There is a good case scenario if Malleus wasn’t so attached to you and Sebek left you alone!! Lilia can see how devastated Silver is once he finds out your condition. You’re almost lifeless, Lilia let’s Silver care for you because he finally found the guts to ask. Silver tends to your needs, all those years of standing from afar and watching you get hurt somewhat paid off. You’re dependent on him and he doesn’t wanna admit how good it feels.

Trey

Settles down like some retired man. He’s happy you found peace and stop causing trouble. You’ll be in his full care now, sure he’ll have his usual sadistic tendencies but it’s much more tame and softer. He doesn’t mind however if you come back to him all bruised and sore, he will feed and clothe you back to health. Over and over again. At least he stops his bullying behavior for a while.

[shai-manahan]

Will MC be able to battle their alcohol addiction in the book?

Yes. It will be a slow process, especially with what's currently going on, but your MC's efforts will not be for naught if you choose to confront the issue. Other characters will react to the progress you make as well, if there are any, and I believe the conversations you'll have are very much worth it.

[yourheart-inmyhands]

Lyney, Aether and venti’s reaction to them breaking their once so cheery darling? They barely talk, eat, drink plus the blank look in the darlings eyes

i apologize but i won't be writing for mc's anymore so Lumine, Aether, Stelle, and Caelus are no longer available for requesting :[ i hope you enjoy lyney and venti though!

Warning: this post contains yandere-themes, including implied being held against will, being mentally broken, delusional behaviors, and other potential topics. Please read at your own risk!

Yandere!Lyney would be heartbroken, he hadn’t meant for it to happen, really! He just, he was so busy with performing and ensuring that his siblings were both okay that he had forgotten to socialize you. He had stopped by daily to drop off fresh food and water but outside of a five minute check in to make sure you weren’t dead and couldn’t escape, he hadn’t had much time to hang around.

“Oh dear, what am I to do now?” Lyney paces the room uncertainly, hesitant to even look over at you. He didn’t like the way you sat there so mindlessly, hollow eyes staring blankly ahead as you simply exist. It wasn’t right, it wasn’t supposed to happen. Lyney had tried everything he could think of to jog you back to reality, bringing you some of your favorite things to do, offering you your favorite foods or even to go outside, but none got any response out of you. So now, he walked from end to end of the room, hat in one hand and teeth chewing anxiously on the other. He didn’t know what to do, he didn’t want this, he didn’t deserve this.

Yandere!Venti would be rather indifferent to it. He knew that humans had much more fragile mindsets so he had seen this coming. In his eyes though, you’re simply putting up less of a fight now! You’ve become the most perfect, compliant darling he could ask for!

“Good morning! I hope you slept well.” Venti’s voice is cheery as he helps you to sit up in bed, setting up a breakfast he had made for you on a try on your lap. He ignores the way your eyes stare blankly into his, or the way you don’t respond to him, that’s ok! He doesn’t mind spoon feeding you your breakfast either, he thinks it’s more romantic that way! “I hope you’re excited, today is pancake day!” Everything was so much easier with you now, no more fights or crying. Venti really liked this new you.

[midnight-bay-if]

How would the RO's react to an MC dying in their arms?

(Oh, dear… I see you’re here for the angst, anon. That’s fair. So am I. I decided to answer this with little shorts instead because I enjoy pain, haha. :))

S:

S pumps your chest almost brutally as they bark orders at the others.

“Taj, call an ambulance this instant.”

“Rain, stand by for the recovery position.”

A desperation everyone can feel feeds their words. They refuse to give up. They can’t. “One, two, three, four.” They chant the numbers in time with the chest compressions, compelling the ashen colour of your lips to revive their warmth with a silent prayer. “Don’t do this,” they cry as the blood seeps between their fingers and slips mid-compression, causing them to shout in frustration with sweat dripping down their brow.

This can’t be happening. They made a promise, a vow. They wouldn’t lose anyone else under their protection. They promised!

How could they have miscalculated this badly? And with you?! This can’t be real…

S lifts their head to the heavens, no longer able to face the weight of the failure, staring so vividly at them with blank eyes.

Rain kneels beside them, tears spilling down their cheeks. “I’m sorry, S. They’re gone.”

S shakes their head ardently, still pushing down on your chest. “No. I just need to keep their heart moving until the paramedics arrive. They’re going to be fine.”

Rain slowly shakes their head and places a grounding hand on S’s shoulder. They break. All movement stops.

S stares down at your glassy eyes with hollowness. Their beating heart has given way to a void of nothing like a light switch being turned off and plunging them into darkness.

After a few moments of staring blindly, of feeling the blood clinging to their clothes and skin like tar, S inhales sharply. Pale and shaking, they reach over and gently close your eyes.

Don’t cry. Keep it together. They still have a duty to you they must complete. There are a lot of people who will keep them strong, especially now.

When they are alone, and only when they are one, will they allow themselves to feel. And they will feel it. Every crippling second of it.

Rain:

It’s like time slows down. From across the room, they watch helplessly as your legs give out from beneath you and your body plummets to the ground.

“NO!” They scream. Their heart slams against their chest in rhythm with their feet as they rush to your side. Taj and S are screaming at them to “Stop!” “Wait!” “We still need you in this fight!” but the words fade like dreams. The only thought festering in Rain’s mind is, ‘Why aren’t you getting back up?’

Rain falls to their knees beside you, tears spilling from their eyes as they are confronted with the deep wounds covering your body, torturing them with their ineptitude. With vision blurred, they press their shaky hands into the wounds. “Come on, MC. You’re going to make it.” Scrunching their eyes closed in concentration, Rain breaks every vow they’ve ever made to themselves. If it’s to save your life, they will do anything.

They focus their magic into your blood, manipulating it away from the wounds. If they can direct the blood flow to the brain… if there’s a chance…

“It’s too late, Rain.” Following the extinction of the threat, Taj and S watch forlornly as Rain desperately saps at their magical reserves to save you.

“What the hell are you talking about?!” They bite back viciously.

Taj shakes their head, grabbing Rain by the arm. “Listen.”

Rain stops. They listen. Then, they notice. The flow of blood… has stopped. “No, no, no,” they whimper, pulling away from Taj as they frantically begin shaking you. “Wake up, MC. Please! This can’t be happening. This can’t happen!”

“I’m sorry, Rain.” Both Taj and S turn away, affording Rain the respect of their grief.

Rain cries and cries, and it feels like they will never dry up. How much grief can one person carry before it maims you completely? Your death is another drop in their ocean of bloody history, yet it may very serve as the catalyst for the hurricane that finally buries them. For what reason do they have left to swim?

Taj:

This can’t happen. This can’t fucking happen.

Blood drips from the tips of their canines. Drip. Drip. Drip. They taste the remnants of the parasite whose throat they had ripped out, tainting their tongue with its bile. They feel sick.

It comes to them in flashes. They were fighting with the others, cockily throwing barbs at their opponents with a self-assuredness that came with years of fighting. Then, they heard it. A scream. Your scream. So frighteningly ear-piercing that they felt their heart shudder in fear. All they could do was react. Instincts took over, and their canines pierced the offender’s throat before their next intake of breath as they tore at the jugular.

Now, with a mouth full of flesh and blood, they collapse to their knees. They spit out the remnants, retching the contents of their stomach onto the ground. The red haze of their anger fizzles away, and only the cold realisation of what happened remains.

Taj turns to you, more frantic than they think they’ve ever felt. You are lying flat and motionless, staring up at nothing at all. You’re not breathing. You’re not fucking breathing.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” they mutter, dragging their knees across the hard concrete to be closer to you. Taj grabs your hand and places your palm against their face. It already feels cold. “Don’t leave, Koel. Don’t you dare fucking leave me.”

Taj watches as the eyes, once so full of bravery and spark, slowly fade of all light… and tears spill from theirs.

N:

They feel it. All of it.

The knife. The pain. The blood. It’s all so visceral that they are certain it’s happening to them. But they look down. There’s no knife, no pain, no blood. How strange. N feels around their abdomen and stomach, just to be sure. It felt so real.

Then, they hear it. A shriek so penetrative and cruel it must have been conjured from the very heavens to torture them. It rattles in their skull, forcing them to their knees with its cacophony. N thrusts their hands over the ears, desperate to make it stop.

“What is it?”

Umbra, who had been fighting by their side, scowls down at them in bemusement after dispatching their opponent.

“Do you not hear it? How can you not hear it?!”

That’s when it hits them. That scream – it had been inside their head. Which could only mean one thing…

N shoots up onto their feet, their head swivelling side to side as they search the carnage. The scream is still screaming. You’re still alive. They just need to find you.

Then, it stops. A gasp. Pain. A whispered word spoken directly into their mind. ‘I’m sorry.’

N spots you. You’re lying there in a puddle of your own blood, but you’re there. They just have to get to you. ‘Don’t apologise,’ they think clearly, directing it to you. ‘I’m coming, my dear. Just hold on.’

Then, nothing. Silence. Only silence.

N thoughts are faster than their feet as they ardently search yours for anything. A reprimand for reading your mind again, or a sly joke for getting them so worked up, anything.

Nothing.

The carnage that follows is truly breathtaking. Balls of molten inferno burn through everything daring enough to come close, leaving behind trails of dust and ash. N feeds on the screams of those who dared lay their hands on the reason for their heart beating. Ultimately, it takes S and their team to put an end to the terror.

This was never how N wanted to return to full power.

Umbra:

Umbra had been practising trust. You had discussed in length how their constant hovering had become cumbersome to you and that they needed to trust you and the people around you more. That your protection wasn’t their responsibility, and it was important to you that they learned to value themselves just as much.

So, they had been trying. It was the only reason they weren’t directly by your side in that battle.

The moment your body hits the floor, Umbra realises, for the first time, they must truly have been alive. Because this has to be what dying feels like.

There’s nothing left of your attacker except stripped ribbons of flesh, torn to shreds with Umbra’s blade. Once the threat has been eliminated and Umbra has drenched themselves in their blood, they drop the blade and watch as it clatters against the ground.

With trembling hands, they ignore the puddle of your own blood as they desperately scramble for a pulse. “I need this,” they whisper to anyone with power enough to listen. “Don’t take them away from me.”

When the expected rise of your chest never comes, Umbra’s world completely shatters. It’s their fault. It’s all their fault. It should be them bleeding out on that floor - not you. Umbra would suffer a million cuts this instant if it meant seeing your eyes open once more because nothing could cut deeper than this.

So, they won’t let you go. They refuse.

Even if it takes burrowing down into the darkest depths of Hael, or bloodying their hands in a river of crimson with a thousand sacrifices, they will do it. They will get you back.

With a deadly determination, Umbra stands, cradling your lifeless body in their arms.

“No matter how long it takes. I will see you again.”

(Well, I literally spent all day writing these, haha. At the start, I was all gung ho about how I like angst, but these got a little real for me at times. Enjoy!)

[anxietytwist]

Poor Ripper :(

[xxsycamore]

Ok third one. I'm way too enthusiastic for this sorry💀

Napo + masturbation

what if i told you i have a fic about this in my drafts that is only written up to the actual masturbation part but i kind of scrapped it because i made him too lonely to the part where it looked sad just straight-up lonely and jorking it HAHAH i messed up the vibe and it needs reworking and i hate doing that ! but maybe someday.

Napoleon + masturbation

I'd say Napoleon isn't much of the regular jerking-off type. Although he listens and caters to his body's needs - he sleeps to his heart's content without much care, he cooks his own food whenever he feels like it, eats crepes to his heart's content, takes mind-clearing rides at any time he needs them. He's still getting used to having so much time for himself in his hands. He might find himself rushing to get done with his shower and have a sudden realization like wait, I can rub one out, I'm not hurrying for anywhere.

Would he take things slow and enjoy himself? Probably. I think he has those lazy moods where he'd be all in for edging himself and exploring sexual fantasies, but at the same time, he's also someone who can't sit still for longer periods of time. We know he finds quite a lot of activities to keep himself busy with, from helping with the chores at the mansion (tending to the stables too) to teaching kids at his and Isaac's école, to (probably daily) fencing exercises with Jean, to giving bodyguard gigs at balls. So I think he keeps the balance with being lazy in the mornings, claiming some time to appreciate this luxury that he now has. He's grumpy, being woken up by some resident who nudges his shoulder and then takes five steps back to shield themselves from his kissing habits. They shout something at him and leave, and Napoleon now has to fight the urge of going back to sleep, on his own.

A healthy young man such as him, it won't be surprising if his cock is awake long before sleep releases its grip on his mind... it makes him restless as he turns on his back, clicking his tongue at no one in particular, sleepy jade eyes opening to stare at the ceiling... soon his hand travels south to give his cock a firm tug, groaning at the contact. He releases his hold immediately though, letting it spring back against the skin of his belly. He's too sleepy to jerk off, too horny to go back to sleep. By the way yeah, I think he's in the habit of sleeping naked (there was one event story where MC entered his room while he was asleep and was all like "Why are you naked!" - maybe she refers to just his upper body though?) so it makes it easier for him to have a spontaneous morning jerking off. After a bit he turns on his side again, and the covers are grazing past his rock-hard cock juuust in the right way, so he rolls his hips lazily once, and then twice, and it suddenly becomes a real problem. So he says fuck it and pushes off the covers, loosely wrapping his fist around the head of his cock and fucking into it. He doesn't think of anyone in particular, just a nice warm mouth wrapped around his girth, cheeks hollowed out and tongue held out as he thrusts his hips into the willing warm and soft cavern. It's not long before he's cumming in his hand, letting out a satisfied moan and running the fingers of his other hand through his hair to move it out of his forehead, body temperature high and naked chest heaving. A nice cold shower is going to feel amazing for him afterward. The residents might think he becomes a different person once he's past his grumpy wake-up stage but they don't know the secret behind his content little smile.

He also jerks off after his sparring sessions, when the adrenaline is still racing in his blood and the hormones heighten his libido.

Reading erotica is not beyond him either, though he might have an issue with it being too far from what gets him going, with how modest yet dramatic it sounds. He'd enjoy pornographic material that is both deeply intimate and dirty at the same time.

So how does it change for him after he starts dating you? His sex drive is probably skyrocketing, and you can't be available to take care of his morning erections all the time so of course he still has to deal with it himself once in a while. It becomes more interesting now though, because the risk of someone re-entering his room because "are you STILL sleeping, Napoleon?" becomes a dangerously alluring chance of making you catch him, "accidentally". Though he's not without shame. If he expects you to walk on him, if he has that sort of control, it would be very turning-on for him. If he doesn't - if he's caught red-handed with a pair of your underwear or another item of yours... he's going to be embarrassed about it. Frowning, blushing, the sexy ridge of his eyebrows knit together when he's so obviously worked up by it, yet trying to be nonchalant... you should tease him about it. About not being able to wait until he has you later in the day or about being crazy for your scent, about how he must be wishing for your touch that would be able to get him off so, so much faster...

5/10 "Fine, I was touching myself to the thought of you. Are you just going to stand there and watch how hopeless I am? I didn't think you were so coldhearted. Come here... at least let me breathe the air around you. I'll be over with this before you know it, so... indulge me, won't you?"

-> (ALWAYS OPEN) send me a kink & I’ll give you a headcanon and rating for Napoleon!

🦶foot fetish 🥵breeding kink 🥕pregging 😈dom/sub 🍈breast kink ⛓bondage 🩸period kink 👄marking 🐺predator/prey 🏙public sex 🤗praise kink 👅 cunnilingus 🍌blowjobs (receiving) 🚪getting caught

[childrenofcain-if]

how would the ROs react to an mc who gives surprise kisses? 🥺

C LACROIX

C was never one for surprises. their life was a series of meticulously planned moves, every detail calculated, every outcome anticipated. it was a matter of control, of ensuring that nothing—and no one—could catch them off guard. but then there was you, with your disarming smiles and your habit of doing the unexpected.

they’d just finished a particularly grueling conversation with one of their economics professors, their mind still running through the litany of critiques they’d received. their jaw was set, their shoulders tense, as they replayed the interaction in their head. and then you appeared, as you often did, without warning and with an energy that always seemed to unsettle them.

“hey,” you said, your voice light, as if the world wasn’t bearing down on you both. they barely had time to respond before you leaned in and pressed a kiss to their cheek, quick and soft, like the brush of a feather.

C froze, their breath catching in their throat. for a split second, they didn’t know how to react—should they push you away? demand to know what you thought you were doing? but before they could decide, they saw the look in your eyes, a mix of mischief and affection that made something inside them falter.

the kiss lingered in the space between you, not for its length but for the way it stole the air from the room, making everything else seem irrelevant. C’s carefully composed mask cracked, just a little, as their hand instinctively reached up to touch the spot where your lips had just been. their mind scrambled for something to say, something that would reassert their control over the situation.

“why do you always do that?” their voice was steadier than they felt, but the question came out more curious than reprimanding.

you shrugged, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “because you looked like you needed a pleasant surprise.”

they wanted to argue, to tell you that surprises were childish, that they had no place in their life. but instead, they found themself staring at you, their mind spinning with the implications of such a simple act. the kiss was nothing, really, just a fleeting gesture—but it had upended them in a way that made them feel both irritated and captivated.

“you’re impossible,” C muttered, but the edge in their voice had softened. you laughed, a sound that felt like sunlight breaking through clouds.

“and you love it,” you teased, stepping back just enough to see their face, your eyes sparkling with amusement.

they wanted to deny it, to scoff at the idea that they could ever be so easily swayed by something as trivial as affection. but the truth was there, unspoken but undeniable, hanging in the air between you. instead of responding, they shook their head, a faint scowl tugging at their lips.

“don’t make a habit of it,” they grumbled, but the warning was hollow, and you both knew it. their voice dipped, quieter now, almost as if they didn’t want to acknowledge the vulnerability in their words. “i might start expecting it.”

you leaned in closer, just enough for your breath to graze their ear. “maybe that’s the point.”

you pulled back, leaving them standing there, caught between the urge to pull you closer and the instinct to retreat behind their walls.

C watched as you turned and walked away, the echo of your kiss still warm on their cheek. they knew that they should just let it go, chalk it up to your playful nature and move on. but as they stood there, alone in the hallway, they couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, you were the one thing in their life that didn’t need to be planned for. the one surprise they might actually look forward to.

V NÆSHOLM

V was always poised, always composed. their eyes, dark and steady, had a way of seeing through people, as if they could peel back the layers to find whatever truth lay beneath. they carried themselves with an air of quiet reverence, like someone who’d lived a thousand lives and learned to tread carefully in this one.

but in the quiet moments, when the world stilled and it was just the two of you, you liked to see how far you could push them, how close you could get before that composure faltered.

it was late afternoon, the golden hour casting a warm glow across the room, filling the space with the scent of old books and the faint trace of incense that clung to V’s clothes.

you were sitting close, closer than usual, with a book between you that neither of you was really reading. V was talking, their voice low and measured, saying something about a passage they’d found particularly interesting. but you weren’t listening, not really. you were too focused on the way their lips moved, the way the light caught in their curls of their hair, turning it to strands of roots in eden.

without warning, you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of their mouth. V froze, the words dying on their lips, and for a split second, they looked at you like you’d just knocked the air out of their lungs. it was a rare sight, that flicker of surprise, and you savored it, knowing how precious it was to see V undone, even if only for a moment.

“what are you doing?” they asked, their voice softer now, almost breathless. their hand went to the small cross they wore around their neck, fingers curling around it as if it could anchor them.

“just wanted to kiss you,” you said, as if it were the simplest thing in the world.

V’s eyes fluttered shut, and for a heartbeat, you thought they might pull away, retreat behind the walls they’d carefully built. but then, they exhaled slowly, their shoulders relaxing as they opened their eyes and met your gaze.

“you can’t just—” V started, but their protest was weak, half-hearted at best. they were already leaning closer, as if drawn to you by some unseen force.

you grinned, and before they could say another word, you kissed them again, this time fully on the lips. V made a soft sound, something between a sigh and a hum, and you could feel them melting against you, their usual composure slipping away like sand through your fingers. when you finally pulled back, V’s eyes were bright, their cheeks flushed in a way that made them look almost otherworldly.

“surprises make life interesting,” you murmured, brushing your thumb along their jawline. V let out a shaky laugh, the sound so uncharacteristic it sent a thrill down your spine.

“you’re going to be the death of me,” they said, but there was no real malice in their words, only a kind of resigned fondness.

“maybe,” you replied, your voice teasing, but there was a warmth in your chest that belied the lightness of your tone. “but you’d miss me too much if i wasn’t around.”

V didn’t answer immediately. instead, they leaned in and kissed you, a soft, lingering touch that felt like a promise. when they pulled back, their eyes were dark and serious, and they said, “yes. yes, i would.” it wasn’t much, not really, but coming from V, it was everything.

W OSTENDORF

the day had been ordinary, in that way that only the most precious days were. the sun was a pale disk in the sky, caught between clouds, casting everything in a soft, diffused light. the kind of light that made the world feel quieter, like it was holding its breath.

W was absorbed in their work, their fingers smudged with ink as they hunched over the pages of an old book, translating each word with the kind of care that made them lose track of time.

you were beside them, as usual, a comforting presence that W had grown used to over the years. they liked the way you filled the spaces with your quiet energy, a contrast to their own more reserved nature. they’d gotten so used to your presence that they sometimes forgot how unpredictable you could be, how you had a knack for pulling them out of their thoughts with just a touch, a word.

that was why, when you leaned over and pressed a kiss to their temple, W nearly dropped the pen in their hand. the kiss was soft, unexpected, and it sent a shiver down their spine. for a moment, they just stared at the page in front of them, the letters blurring together as their mind scrambled to process what had just happened.

“what was that for?” W asked, their voice barely above a whisper. they turned to look at you, their cheeks turning red, their sapphire blue eyes wide with a kind of startled surprise that they couldn’t quite hide.

you smiled at them, that familiar, maddening smile that always seemed to hold a secret. “i just felt like it,” you said simply, as if kissing them out of the blue was the most natural thing in the world.

W blinked, their heart thudding in their chest in a way that made them feel unsteady, like the ground beneath them had shifted. they weren’t used to this, to the way you could so easily disrupt the careful balance they’d built around themselves. they were used to predictability, to the safety of routine. but with you, nothing ever felt predictable.

“do you—do you always do that?” W asked, their voice trembling slightly. they could feel the heat rising to their chest, embarrassment mingling with something else, something warmer, softer.

you tilted your head, considering them with a look that made their stomach flip. “only when i think you need it.”

W swallowed, their throat suddenly dry. they wanted to say something, anything, but the words were stuck, tangled up in the mess of emotions that your kiss had stirred up. they weren’t sure how to respond to this, to you.

“i—” W started, but the words faltered, trailing off into nothing. instead, they just looked at you, their eyes searching yours for some kind of reassurance, some sign that this was okay, that they weren’t making a fool of themselves.

you reached out, gently brushing a stray lock of hair from their forehead. “you think too much,” you said softly, your voice like a balm to their frayed nerves. “just let it happen.”

W exhaled shakily, their shoulders relaxing as they let your words sink in. they weren’t used to this, to being so close to someone, to letting their guard down. but with you, it has always been different, isn’t it? it felt safe, in a way that made them want to lean into it, to trust that you wouldn’t push them too far, too fast.

“i’ll try,” W murmured, their voice barely audible, but there was a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of their lips.

“good,” you replied, and then you kissed them again, this time on the lips, soft and slow, giving them all the time in the world to respond.

W felt their heart flutter, a warmth spreading through their chest as they tentatively kissed you back, their hands hovering awkwardly at your sides before finally resting on your arms. it was familiar, this feeling, this closeness, but it was also… right, in a way that they’d always imagined it’d be.

when you finally pulled back, W’s eyes were half-lidded, their lips slightly parted as they tried to catch their breath. but there was something deeper in your gaze, something that made their heart skip a beat.

“i’d take good care of you,” you said, your words a simple promise to keep.

W didn’t doubt it. not for a second.

D DIACONU

D was used to getting what they wanted, and what they wanted was usually simple—distraction, pleasure, something to stave off the gnawing boredom that crept in when life was too predictable. they lived for the thrill, the chase, the game of seduction where they always had the upper hand. at least, they thought they did.

the day had been like any other, filled with fleeting moments of amusement and shallow conversations that left D feeling emptier than before. they leaned against the wall of the dimly lit room, their arms crossed, watching you from the corner of their eye. you were different, though. you always were. you didn’t fall for their charm as easily as others did, didn’t play along with their games in the way they expected. it intrigued them, frustrated them, made them want to unravel the mystery that was you.

so when you suddenly leaned in, pressing your lips to theirs without warning, D’s mind went blank. the kiss was quick, light, like a spark of electricity that left them buzzing, craving more. they weren’t used to being caught off guard, especially not like this.

“what’s gotten into you?” D asked, a smirk playing at the edges of their lips, though their voice betrayed a hint of surprise.

you shrugged, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “just felt like it.”

D stared at you, their usual confidence faltering for just a moment. they were supposed to be the one in control, the one who initiated, who called the shots. but you, with your infuriating unpredictability, had flipped the script, and they weren’t sure how to handle it.

“you know,” D began, their voice low, teasing, “most people wait for an invitation.”

“where’s the fun in that?” you shot back, a playful smile curling your lips.

D blinked, their heart pounding in a way that was unfamiliar, unsettling. they were used to lust, to desire, but this—this was something different. It was too raw, too real.

“well?” you prompted, your voice a soft challenge.

D swallowed, their bravado slipping away as they found themselves leaning in, their lips brushing yours again, this time slower, more deliberate. they weren’t sure if they were still playing a game or if they’d lost it entirely, but for once, they didn’t care. all they could focus on was the way you felt against them, the way your hands rested lightly on their shoulders, grounding them in the moment.

“you’re dangerous,” they murmured against your lips, more to themselves than to you. “but i think i like it.”

you grinned as you pulled away, that same maddening smile that had driven D crazy from the start.

“good,” you said, your voice light, but with an undercurrent of something deeper. “because i’m not planning on stopping.”

D’s heart skipped a beat, and for once, they didn’t have a witty comeback, no clever retort to mask the way their chest tightened at your words. all they could do was nod, a silent agreement to whatever this was between you, even if it scared them more than they’d ever admit.

as you turned to leave, D watched you go, their fingers brushing over their lips, still tingling from your kiss. they knew they were in trouble, but for the first time in a long while, they didn’t mind. not at all.

M WHITLOCK-SINGH

M’s reaction to an unexpected kiss from you unfolded like a series of rapid snapshots—vivid, disorienting, and all too intense. the room was quiet except for the distant hum of the town, the kind of stillness that amplified the subtle chaos of their emotions.

it happened one evening, their face illuminated by the soft glow of streetlights filtering through the curtains. M was deep in thought, their brow furrowed over a book they barely read. their mind was a swirl of dates and international treaties, the weight of their own responsibilities pressing on them. they felt the gentle brush of lips against their cheek—a fleeting, soft caress that jolted them from their reverie.

M’s head snapped up, eyes wide with surprise. they met your gaze, a flicker of something raw and unguarded dancing across their face. the air between you seemed to thrum with a new energy, charged and electric.

“what was that for?” they asked, their voice a mix of bewilderment and something else—a hint of vulnerability, perhaps.

you smiled, a secretive, almost mischievous smile.

“just felt like it,” you replied, your eyes twinkling with a blend of affection and playfulness.

M’s mouth curved into a half-smile, a reaction both hesitant and eager. they brushed their fingers over the spot where your lips had touched, as if trying to hold onto the sensation.

“you can’t just do that,” they said, their tone soft but edged with the intensity that always lingered beneath their calm façade. “it’s... distracting.”

“is that so?” you leaned closer, your breath warm against their skin. “do i distract you that much, baby?”

they met your gaze, and for a moment, the barriers they usually maintained seemed to falter.

“yes, in a way that makes me forget what i was thinking about,” they said, their voice low and almost reverent. “in a way that makes everything else seem irrelevant.”

you laughed softly, a sound that seemed to lighten the weight in the room.

“i suppose that’s the point,” you said, brushing your lips against theirs again—this time, a quick, light touch that left a lingering warmth.

M’s eyes followed your movement, a flicker of something like wonder in their expression.

“you know,” they said, their tone becoming more contemplative, ��it’s not just the surprise of it. it’s the... the way it makes me feel. like there’s something more here than just words or plans.”

you tilted your head, studying them with an affectionate curiosity. “what does it make you feel?”

M hesitated, then shrugged, a gesture that seemed to be both an admission and a shield.

“like i’m not quite in control,” they admitted, their voice barely above a whisper. “and for once, i don’t want to be.”

the silence that followed was filled with a new, shared understanding, a moment of connection that was both delicate and profound. M’s gaze softened as they looked at you, their usual reserve melting away under the weight of their emotions.

“well, i suppose i’ll have to get used to being surprised,” they said finally, their smile widening. “though i’m not sure if i’m ready for it.”

your eyes sparkled with warmth. “you’ll manage. after all, sometimes the best things in life are the ones that take us by surprise.”

M nodded, their expression a blend of acceptance and anticipation. “i suppose you’re right,” they said, reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair from your face. “and maybe... that’s not such a bad thing after all.”