best friend alhaitham who somehow has become your designated "will this guy be a good boyfriend or not" detector. except he keeps rejecting every single one of the candidates you brought up to him with the most ridiculous but logical reasons that you can't really refute.
"you've reiterated that you wanted a man who wouldn't prioritize his career over family, and he has confessed that his dream is to become the akademiya's grand sage. continuing to see him would merely expend meaningless energy on your part."
"he dislikes your favorite color and is allergic to cats. your future living arrangements are bleak."
it's when you've finally had enough, when you yell in frustration for him why don't you just pick someone who would make a good boyfriend for me, then!ー he finally stares at you, snaps his book close, and declares with the utmost confidence: "objectively speaking, that would be me."
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( yan dating sim! twisted wonderland x reader ) part two to this fic.
⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨ᰔ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. ୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹ 𝗜𝗡𝗘𝗫𝗣𝗟𝗜𝗖𝗔𝗕𝗟𝗬, you awake in the otome game ‘twisted hearts’ as a run-out-of-the-mill side character. no worries, the love interests are already after yuu. you just gotta stay out of it all, right?
• ♡ After your hapless incident and subsequently, much to your chagrin, you wind up in the infirmary (because downing ten cups of tea was apparently not ideal when you have a concussion). Kalim makes a bid to visit you every now and then, but even he's prone to mistake of forgetting, or being dissuaded from it by the dark-haired fellow always accompanying him. You don’t speak much, and rarely offer any acknowledgments aside from the few meant to show respect to the housewarden.
♡ In the game, from what you remember, Kalim was the clingy sort of love interest and seldom left Yuu’s side. Strangely so, he’s never brought up the prefect during his sojourns, even though you expected such ramblings most out of him. You don’t pry further, for it eventually becomes clear he too is not unaffected by the sound of Yuu’s voice drifting from the halls, brightening his face tenfold. You lament on your circumstances, but you’d be a fool to reject free food, so you let him hang around for the sake of it.
♡ Eventually, free food turns into free trinkets, and free trinkets turn into free jewellery alltogether. By the time the nurse twists around the corner, you’re already swimming on a gold heap, and if said nurse tries to tell the pair to leave, the white-haired male overextends his eyes and sags so much to the point he’s compelled into letting them stay. You don’t mind company, but you’re certain you somehow blathered about your loneliness when tea-drunk, and now this boy’s determined to keep you away from such thoughts.
“I brought you tea!”
You eye the swirl of warm brown before letting your head dip in craven refusal. “No.”
“Huh?” Red, befuddled irises peer at the sides of your face, and the snow-white puffs effused from the drink seperate your expression from his. You’ve been in the same position since your arrival and it’s starting to keep him on pins and needles.
“I was told, very clearly, that ten cups of tea was the problem.” You supply helpfully.
“Oh!” His eyes peak up to his brows. This guy... “Then this is perfect, it’s only one!”
“That’s not— that’s not how that works.”
“Isn’t it?”
“No.”
“…Oh.”
♡ That’s how your day goes. If not for Jamil dragging the boy out, you’re certain he would’ve tried to take up residence beside you. Of course, that goes to say your endeavours of trying to be unnoticeable and ordinary are rewarded by said boy with an almost judgmental mien, and though that often sends your self esteem to rack and ruin you almost feel a twinge of relief. Relief means things are still working, and that Kalim’s pursuit is nothing but a product of flimsy luck.
♡ You think his suspicion’s aroused by the fact Kalim’s activity has spiked and for such a small reason at that. Or perhaps the boy’s just frazzled since he’s compelled into dropping by as well and listening to a very one-sided conversation, with your only replies being ‘Hm’ and ‘Nice’. Still, you know he’s already decided on something when he looks at you with those lined eyes.. speaking like he’s setting out early lies and early traps. Unbeknownst to him, you’ve played his route ten times.
“You’re very quiet.”
Suddenly, you find the ceiling very interesting. “.. And so I’ve been told.”
“I imagine it must do you well,” Seeing a character on a screen is one thing, seeing them ponder and stare at you in real time is entirely another. Jamil sighs through his nose in Kalim’s absence, letting his brows pinch towards you. “Less attention.. less worries. Kalim’s not too keen on moderation, that habit of his always tends to escalate. I’m surprised you’re not bothered by it... Why?”
You flick your nails, and a bracelet rattles against skin. “You talk about him a lot.”
“I don’t think it’d end well if I left him unattended.”
“That sounds exhausting.”
After an almost devastating pause, he answers, veneer ruffled and already having accepted everything all at once. “... It is.” Long tresses sway to the side when he shakes his head. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“What question?”
“Why’re you not bothered?”
Lame. With an expulsion of irritated air, you flop back down on the sheets and get all comfy. “I hit my head. Must’ve messed up my brain.”
Air whistles through his teeth, and you don’t stay awake long enough to gauge if it’s a chuckle.
♡ Phew! You survive the infirmary and are allowed to attend your classes once more, believing firmly that all the trouble of socializing has been lifted off of you (just like old times). Unfortunately, your grades have completely dropped, because of.... welll, you give Professor Crewel the excuse of hitting your head and forgetting all the basics of potionology. He tuts, but surprisingly lets you go, only after ascertaining you’ll be informed over what you missed by someone with higher command over the subject. You don’t mull over it, hoping it’ll only be a random guy from Pomefiore and not another lovesick scrub.
♡ Feeling like a husband returning from war, you pass by a route leading from somewhere to nowhere and ultimately end up in the room of the mountain lovers. Let’s just say, Jade seems to be rather confused when you walk in donning more accessories (which’s really just glitter and gold) than you left with — but there comes that glint in his eye and he assures you just how reminiscent he was rendered in your absence.
♡ Only a formality, of course, because the new onslaught of wilderness flooding the room has you thinking otherwise. He seemed to be enjoying himself. (Hmm... still, the space is filled with photographs you and him took on your excursions. And hey, the bastard even kept the one of you mid-slip over a patch of mushrooms!)
“Oh, I was inconsolable,” As he’s mid-speech over your disappearance, he places a gloved hand on his woebegone heart and lets a crocodile tear cascade. “You simply have no idea how frazzled you left me.”
“You know, you should definitely try out acting after this college thing.”
“...How unkind,” he murmurs, tone lilting with something amused. “To dismiss my sincerity so readily.”
“You don’t have any.”
“Mm. A tragic flaw, I’m sure.”
“…Did you take all of these?” you change the subject, a photograph slipping between your fingers. Jade doesn’t look at it.
“Of course.”
“I don’t remember half of them.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to.”
“I look like I’m about to die.”
“Yes,” Jade agrees lightly. “But believe me, that’s part of the charm.”
Whatever that means.
♡ You both eventually get to exploring the mountains once more, and everyday there’s a new hellhole waiting for you. And by hellhole, you’re referring to the fact Jade’s ‘candid photo’ collection of you keeps on flourishing. When you threaten to quit over it, he simply bestows that signature soft chuckle on you and muses over your tone. Other times you lament over how awful you look in them, and most times, he offers you cryptic praises. You, crouched by a stream, looking over your shoulder. Laughing at something that isn’t there anymore. The lighting’s wrong for the time you think it should’ve been taken.
“…Jade.”
“Yes?”
“…When was this?”
“Oh, I couldn’t possibly recall every little detail,” he says lightly, stepping closer, eyes landing on the tapestry of dull colours before him. “They all blend together eventually, don’t they? Moments are such fragile things.”
You give him a side-eye, and his smile grows.
“But,” he cuts in gently before you blow a gasket, plucking the photograph straight from your hands, “I do remember how pleasant it was.”
This guy still doesn’t know your name.
♡ When you wobble your way back to Scarabia, you’re met with a rather pleasant sight. And unfortunately, pleasant only in the visual sense and not by comportment. Vil, perhaps one fo the love interests you’ve dreaded meeting ever since your arrival here, eyes you the moment you materialize in smears of encrusted topsoil and leafy aromas (a result of yet another fall you took. Jade, now, probably has a million shots of that). Turns out that tutor Crewel was referring to is the pretty boy poised in front of you, the fairness of his skin pinched by disgust. You’re ready to make a beeline towards the nearest exit — because surely he’d let you leave —
♡ But he’s just as agile as he’s stubborn. Mimicking your prowess for vanishing, he appears in front of you and proceeds to stare at you for what feels like an eternity.
“…How,” Vil says slowly with a voice twice as sharp as him, “have you managed to reduce yourself to this state in broad daylight?”
While you’re thinking of where to start, Vil seems preoccupied with taking apart your appearance. “... Don’t answer that. You’re scratched and filthy.”
When he tilts your chin up, you stay taut like a deer caught in headlights. Or, for the lack of a better word, straight into the fire.
Lucifer spending time at his piano in the music room, composing music. You don't know if he's figuring out an existing Devildom song or crafting his own personal creation. You just like to listen.
He'll plink at a few keys, seemingly at random while he hums to himself. His deep voice is an instrument of its own. It contrasts nicely with the high melodic notes of the piano.
When he's on to something, he'll strike several keys at once and begin singing in earnest. Just one or two lines. Over and over, fine tuning it to perfection.
When he finally finds what he's looking for, Lucifer starts from the top and launches into a full performance. His fingers effortlessly glide over the piano. He stops vocalizing and lets the piano sing for itself, filling the house with a beautiful cadence for all of thirty glorious seconds until he hits a key that sounds slightly off.
The music abruptly stops and his experimental plinking begins again.
ex pantalone tryna win you back 🤤🤤 hes such an incel about it too
it's like you see him everywhere these days.
in the train, lowering himself down to the 'common folk seats' as he's stationed across from you. visiting your job, claiming that the northland bank has some deposits he personally needed to oversee. in the snezhnograd marketplace, perusing the same vegetables you were planning on cooking that night. and most commonly: standing right outside your apartment, looking up at your room's window.
he makes generous acts in these coincidental meetings. he pays on your behalf and insists on accompanying you home. even lends you his coat when the air is chillier than expected, a picture-perfect gentleman despite your failed attempt at romance with him.
you refuse to the best of your ability. you can walk yourself home, you can pay for yourself just fine -- he needs not waste his wealth and time with you, truly. but feofan's tenacity is not light; he views you as an investment that will pay off should he continue his ministrations. even in the face of a failed relationship, you two can always start over, use your previous knowledge, and make decisions that you hadn't the first time around to achieve a happier relationship.
well. he was happy with you, but it seems you weren't. relationships in that sense aren't far off from businesses.
yet you... you truly push his patience toward an already precarious edge. his temper that he works hard to control for your sake cracks open a millimeter further with each rejection he takes from you. his smile becomes crooked, glasses slightly askew, and hair strands out of perfect position as he works himself to the bone trying to find a solution to your prickly attitude.
he had known trying to appease women, much less someone like you, was going to be a challenge. and he had foolishly believed that all it took was his hefty bank account to keep you placated and happy -- aren't all women like that? do they not love wealth? after all, you seemed so happy with the weekly purchases you made using his money. all of that, but the moment he proposed you become a stay-at-home wife, you turned tail and fled :/
you are a selfish one. be grateful that despite such an ugly personality, he's still chasing after you.
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Not just intellectually, but also street smart and emotionally smart and physically very capable.
Like the type of person who meal preps, studies, exercises, and honestly an overall normal, well rounded person.
Something that never lasts long at NRC yet here they are.
(As you can probably tell by now I dislike the stereotypical Y/ns, or the new chaotic versions. The second version is very entertaining but far away from who I actually am as a person. I also dislike the idea of Yuu's only purpose being to thirst after characters.)
Side note: This is an HC, pick out the ideas you like, throw out the ones you don't like.
The Prefect, who remains the top student of the first years, for multiple reasons.
One of them being the fact that they received higher education, either by a tutor, or by them pursuing a higher education as they are older than their fellow classmates. Or they got the Riddle treatment.
The Prefect keeps making deals with Azul even when the first year friend group yells at them to stop and keeps getting out of the deals before they lose something and it ragebaits Azul so much. Azul and the Prefect have a bit of a love and hate relationship going on because Azul wants to beat them SO MUCH and the Prefect keeps escaping them like two miliseconds before they are caught. (Aka the street smart part.)
They also keep working part time at the Mostro Lounge and is the only reason Floyd is consistently engaged and working whenever they are there. Aka the second reason Azul has a love and hate relationship with them because they keep jumping out the window (metaphorically and literally) whenever he offers them a full time job.
If the Prefect ever gets a full time job at Mostro Lounge, Jade will quite literally book them for every day he's working, or every day Floyd is working, or just every day. The Prefect is NOT seeing the light of day again.
The Ramshackle dorm is probably a little bit cleaner than in canon for several reasons.
Riddle keeps sending the Prefect to tutor Ace and Deuce and somehow whenever he does that, Vil sends Epel who's a dumbass who drags Jack along with him and then Ortho joins for socialization and then Lilia pushes Sebek into it so he can make friends.
Imagine Grim and the Prefect have to add their test scores to each other's and divide them in half to get their actual score because they're a "2 in 1 deal".
The Prefect is quite literally the only reason Grim has not been expelled for academic failure and the teachers KNOW it. (the Prefect is scoring 100s every test for a reason lmao.)
The Prefect also probably goes around doing stuff for others when they are free, like speedrunning cooking for Jamil whenever Kalim throws a party, or organizing a study group for their other friends, like Kalim, Ruggie, Cater, and more with Riddle and Azul as the other two tutors on occassion.
They are pretty street smart, so I'd imagine them doing tutoring on the side for paying off bills, and bothering Crowley until they get paid their promised allowance, and doing random side quests for Sam to get discounts.
They did so many side quests for Sam that they somehow get 50 percent off all of Sam's products. No one knows how. (There is some parental favoritism in there.)
I'd imagine they probably save coupons, and befriended Ruggie out of their shared financial situation. (They're crying in broke.)
I can also definitely see them being friends with Jamil and Ruggie specifically since they all work in service in some way.
They are 100% the favorite student of the teachers, because of how hard they work both inside and outside the classroom. (This happened specifically after they saw the Prefect pass out, get back up, pass out again, and then apologize and go back to work.)
The Prefect probably has a cult. I don't know, probably. Or a fan club. If the Housewardens have a fan club, I'd think that one dude who came to a whole new world magicless, tamed a direbeast, beat 7 Overblots while magicless, and lives in what's considered a fucking haunted and abandoned house has a fan club.
They are THE heart throb of the school and they have accidentally acquired many sugar daddies.
Since the Prefect is probably physically capable, that's likely how the first years (except Ortho), and probably the entirety of Savanaclaw came to like them.
It'd be funny if the Prefect was like, talented in music, like both singing and dancing so Rook chased them down during the VDC auditions and Grim had to be like "HEY, HANDS OFF MY HENCHHUMAN!!!"
The Prefect is also the only reason Grim is being fed (fucking fatass).
They also, albeit to the dismay of all NRC students, get along with RSA students (Canonically, the Prefect in game has never looked down on RSA students either.)
They have managed to rizz Chenya, and then Neige when they met, and then accidentally rizzed up everyone else. Rielle was very easy to rizz.
HCs:
I like to think the Prefect indulges Malleus's yapping sessions about gargoyles and genuinely remembers some of them, especially about his rants about grotesques.
The first years keep breaking into the Prefect's dorm to sleep over or to escape their dorm. Grim decided after their 4th break in to demand that they bring foods or extra stuff in as a bribery attempt whenever they wanna crash.
There was a war between everyone when the Prefect was deciding which club to choose until Grim just dragged them into that one big back club.
The Prefect sometimes visits multiple clubs just for fun and joins them sometimes. Especially the smaller clubs, like the Gargoyle Studies Club and the Muntain Lovers Club and the Light Music Club.
Jade drags them to hike with him almost every week, sometimes Floyd steals them away and drags them to watch him play basketball or someone else takes them.
Cater sends reels at 3 AM after they get really close and drag them out to eat cute desserts with him which is literally just him taking all the pictures and giving them all the sweets to eat. Neither of them complain. Free food is free food.
The Prefect has been invited into multiple group chats, including the Light Music Club one, and more.
The Prefect is the only person that willingly helps Lilia cook, other than the times the Diasomnia squad tries to salvage the cooking by directly helping Lilia.
The first years have this secret handshake that they keep gatekeeping whenever others try to copy them.
The Prefect is one of the only people that actually listens to Sebek when he talks about Malleus.
The Prefect genuinely scares others sometimes in a good way because they keep remembering small things about their friends for their gifts.
Epel sends you to Vil as a replacement sacrifice whenever he's trying to get Epel to do skincare. (Vil prefers this as well but he will never admit that.)
Jamil, Ruggie, and the Prefect has some GC together.
The first years have a GC where they keep forgetting to go to the actual GC and go to the shared GC with all the first, second and third years, say some wild shit and shocks everyone. (They once saw Epel typing some tarnation of a series of curse words because Ace stole his ice cream that he hid in Ramshackle.)
The Prefect did not fear Riddle, even before his Overblot because they don't have magic, so other than the mildly inconveniencing feeling of having a collar on they don't have any problems going on with being collared.
Most of the upperclassmen's crushes on the Prefect grew after their dorm's Overblot.
There have been MANY attempts of each dorm to have the Prefect move dorms (to theirs specifically).
After everyone basically had a crush on them, or just began to really like them as a person, the Ramshackle dorm's situation became very clear to them, so Ramshackle was fixed faster than in canon.
AKA: A person who is a genuinely decent, and sane person. (Shocker.)
ok oki u finally have an ask button! umm soldier boy+ him pulling your chair closer. (he does it so many times (he's naturally so annoying) that u get fed up but all u can do is kick his chair). OR your wish!! u have all the creative freedom!
you're right anon he is so annoying! i like thinking that his charisma and smooth talking is so often in wrong place or time, he's literally just like. Yeah. anyways hope you enjoy! (taking place vaguely in season 3 as soldier boy works with the boys)
it started in reasonable situations. after missions, you and soldier boy would be at home going over the plans for next week, and sitting where you were, the blueprints and notes were harder to see. you'd keep asking soldier boy to "reread this" or "what does that say," and so he'd pull your chair closer for his little review lesson. you'd give him a bashful smile, and he'd just chuckled and put an arm over your shoulder.
other times, it'd be at dinner. all the boys would be sitting around a makeshift dinner table in the center of their room at the flat iron building. a good time for small talk over chinese takeout or microwave meals. you would be telling some story your first job as a teenager and the kind of characters you had to work with, and when the words started blurring as other people split off into side conversations, soldier boy would pull you in, asking, "could you repeat that, doll?" again, lighthearted, you'd smile and sometimes annie would snicker at the two of you for the PDA.
but then he got overzealous with it. one time, you were hunched over your computer, head in hands, because the person butcher told you to email hadn't replied in the past four days and you really needed this information by sunday. meanwhile soldier boy was messily eating some peanut butter and jelly sandwich. he saw you freaking out internally, saw the work on your plate, and just pulled you closer, the chair legs rumbling across the floor. "you worry too much," he said, and you rolled your eyes.
"i'm worrying because if i don't get this guy to answer me, butcher's gonna rip me a new one."
soldier boy just scoffed. "s'fine. i'll take care of it if he gets huffy," and he handed you the rest of his PB&J. "here. have the other half. you finish it, we'll watch a movie after."
you did end up watching a movie. and on sunday, there was still no reply to your email, which, after announcing this failure to butcher, ended the boys' discussion on things with a screaming match between him and soldier boy that you just put your head down for. by the end of the day, though, everyone was still in one piece. which is all you can really ask for sometimes.
he'd do it during phone calls, real important ones, delegating who in the boys is going to be where and what time for rendezvous. you would have all your notes out, explaining who would be fit to go with who based on location, and soldier boy, not getting enough attention, would pull your chair closer, hoping to lie on your shoulder or fidget with the zipper of your jacket. your phone would catch the screech, he'd hear the confusion on the other line, and you'd huff and kick his chair in return. "stop it!" you whisper-shouted, glaring at him. "you can wait five more minutes to tell me about the latest episode you watched of seinfeld."
that was the secret third thing he was hoping for: he wanted to see you pissed off. it was a little hot and, that day, it had been a while since you've told him off or gave him attitude. so, he pretended to slump and sigh, but you saw the satisfaction on his face.
and just a few times, he did it in public restaurants. places where you normally don't move around chairs however you please. soldier boy and you would be dressed up nice, soft music making its way through the rooms. and according to soldier boy, well, you just looked too good. mid-bite of your spaghetti, you nearly lost your meal when he tugged you closer. "ben!" you hissed. "we're in a real restaurant. this isn't our kitchen, you can't just drag me around wherever you want."
he feigned this expression of betrayal and annoyance, turning his back to you like a petty toddler. "well, i was going to tell you that you looked beautiful and the candlelight makes you glow, but i guess i'll just keep my mouth shut."
you promptly hit him on the back of the head. "you better still say it."
that was why he loved you. you called him out on all of his attitude. the only one that could be more demanding than him was you. so his grin reappeared and he repeated all of his compliments, even throwing in a few more for insurance.
frat!gojo, who had a reputation that always clung to him like smoke—loud parties, chaos, and endless amounts of cheap alcohol with men and women practically throwing themselves at him, but none of his one night stands ever stuck around. no one ever really stayed.
frat!gojo, who was always perpetually bored of people, no one could ever really keep up with him, that was until you.
frat!gojo, who’s almost instantly enamoured by you, following you around like a lost puppy everywhere, just so you can give him even the slightest bit of attention.
frat!gojo, who almost whimpers when you roll your eyes at him, walking away as if he was never there, and he just knows he has to have you.
frat!gojo, who has your schedule memorised to the T (he found it while stalking your socials), waiting outside your classes every single day, with his tuft of white hair sticking out in the crowd, while following you around immediately while carrying your fat stack and books and your bag while you walk around campus.
frat!gojo, who’s always bored out of his mind when you aren’t in class with him—always pestering poor nanami because you aren’t around to slap some sense into him and tell him to focus.
frat!gojo, who’s almost afraid of how smart you are, his cock straining nearly painfully against his pants when you ramble on about the kreb’s cycle and whatnot, and all he can think about is what it’d be like to be quizzed from between your thighs instead.
frat!gojo, who’s had numerous filthy dreams about you, with you tying him down, walking all over him in your pretty boots, fisting his hair with your pretty hands—and he wakes up, his cock throbbing in his sweats, leaking beads of pre, he feels like an idiot while he wraps his hands around his dick.
frat!gojo, who muffles his moans into his pillows, cumming onto his pretty abs, all while gasping your name in between breaths. he know’s you’d kill him if you found out about the dirty little fantasies he’s had of you—but the very thought of you reprimanding him has him twitching, flushed against his abdomen all over again.
frat!gojo, who has a picture of you in his wallet, it’s a candid from when you were tutoring him, your lips in a focused pout while you were trying to explain your notes, and gods he just never got over how pretty you looked while being completely engrossed in the stupid text that sat in front of you.
frat!gojo, who knows he’s down bad but he just couldn’t care less. so, if you see satoru gojo being yelled at by a pretty nerd, do NOT come save him. he is exactly where he wants to be.
this is a reupload.
all works belong to @lilithkleia, do NOT copy, translate or feed to AI. lest you wish upon toji’s worm to crawl up your ass.
imagining solomon coaxes mc to be in/on/around his cloak as much as he can, so that when they’re not around, it still smells like them
his cloak serves as quite a comfort to him to begin with - a blanket-like cover that keeps him warm, secure and safe. not only that, but he knows it looks cool, he really leans into the whole sorcerer thing. he occasionally enjoys using the fabric’s movement for dramatic flare.
but when it smells like mc, solomon gets an extra surge of energy that he’s been missing all these years.
any excuse. ESPECIALLY in the winter
cold? come under my cloak
raining? hide under my cloak
too sunny? cloak shade
hand holding? under the cloak
sat in the park? cloak on the grass
hugging? you bet, under the cloak
that guy bothering you? IN THE CLOAK
at the beginning of knowing mc he’d often hide it and be very subtle when noticing the wall of scent flutter past him, a slight flush appearing over his face that he tried to hide from the brothers. but now, he doesn’t care.
sometimes if he’s stressed, mc would catch him at a desk in the library, head down as his face is buried in his arms lying on the table. seemingly asleep, but his cloak is pulled up just so that his face is resting on the soft fabric, his face nuzzled into the folds.
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Malleus may be a bit dense at times, but he certainly wasn’t blind. He could see— clear as day, as obvious as a cloudless sky— that his friend Yuu was especially attractive today. But he knew that she was there to work; not to be gawked at by some guy who wasn’t even her husband.
Maybe when they become a couple, he would sneak a peek or two. But for now, he was a well-bred man who could tell exactly where her eyes were. And stay on her eyes did his own do— much to his pride as a gentleman… and much to her chagrin as a lady who just wanted to get with him ASAP.
This is hard to think about now, but remember how horribly MC was treated season 1? The brothers were constantly either threatening to kill them, attempting to kill them or succeeding in killing them and were generally highly apathetic to them and their struggles and yes, that includes Mammon too. He was tasked with taking care of them and had to be tricked into a pact and spending a while with them before he actually took that seriously.
Diavolo and Barbatos had to ensure that they're still alive enough to get back to their realm after the program's over. That is true, but I'd go as far as to say that MC was probably the exchange student they cared about the least. Solomon is the most powerful human, Simeon is an archangel and does have influence in the Celestial Realm, and Luke is also an angel on top of having Michael on his side, MC was neither somebody of great importance nor did they have somebody of great importance on their side, there was no reason for them to actually give af about them. This point is further proven when they sent MC back in time like a lamb to the slaughter in lesson 16, knowing damn well what would've happened to them just so that they could get the best outcome for themselves. Would they have pulled that shit on anybody else?
And finally, Simeon and Solomon also were kind of apathetic to them. They had their own problems, and yes, Solomon did save their life every once in a while and Simeon was kind to them, but there were more reasons for them to do that than there were for them not to. And if they knew what happened in lesson 16, then that just makes them and the fact that they didn't show any signs of caring look even worse. Luke might unironically have been the only person on MC's corner since the beginning, he's the only person to show concern for them and their well being even before knowing them properly and the only person I feel would have the proper reaction to lesson 16 season 1.
Anyways, this is all to say that this is absolute perfection for some serious angst. Imagine MC growing to actually dislike everybody (except Luke, he's their son duh), and when everyone starts falling in love with them, they're now having to contend with the consequences of their own apathy and that they not only know effectively nothing about the person they have feelings for, because they never bothered to pay attention to them previously, but that that person is not fond of them at all and not taking their feelings/confessions seriously as a result.
I tried to keep this as gn as possible🫡 Also kind of lazy mb
So, we all know human biology is bound to be different to that of a demon’s. The brothers +Diavolo, Barbatos and Mephisto had to actually research about you.
But obviously, Solomon is human himself. I think he takes immense pride in the fact he knows more than the demons. Sure, they could make you feel good, but Solomon knows he can make you feel better. He knows how to reach that spot inside of you.
The first time you and Solomon ‘messed around’ was extremely overwhelming. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like the demons are bad or uncaring, but you didn’t have the heart to tell any of them that there are certain parts of your body that ache to be stimulated (clit, g-spot, prostate, etc). But Solomon was all over you, curling his fingers and rubbing all the right spots. He just knew where and how to touch you.
It wasn’t surprising that your body jerked and twitched as he stimulated you so thoroughly. “Hahh.. Those demons don’t pay attention like I do, hm?” He cooed in your ear as his fingers bullied your sweet spot, his free hand pressing down onto your abdomen to intensify the feeling. “C’mon, don’t close those thighs on me… I need to be able to make you feel good.” He chuckled.
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“uh… why is sensei doing push-ups?” yuji asks, when he, nobara, and megumi enter the classroom.
satoru’s pushing himself up and down with one hand because, according to you, normal push-ups weren’t enough. but even then, he’s barely breaking a sweat. and he’s grinning, while you stand over him, watching with your arms crossed.
his uniform jacket is folded over the back of a chair, leaving him in his compression shirt, arm bulging and back tensing with each lift and fall of his body.
“i upset my-- hah beautiful, smart-- hah strong, gorgeous, perfect wife,” he pants, “punishment fits the crime.”
he really is right where he wants to be.
megumi doesn’t even bat an eye - this was the least unusual thing that you and satoru do. he slides into a chair with a sigh.
“how many does he have to do?”
“a hundred,” you say. satoru lifts his head to look up at you, mouth parted, little pink hearts in his eyes peering at you over the rim of his glasses. “he’s on seventy-two.”
his grin widens. “you know, this isn’t a challenge for me. why don’t you sit on my back, sweetheart?”
you crouch down in front of him and his eyes light up. “i know what you want, and you don’t deserve my touch.” you push his head down so he’s facing the floor again, and he grunts when you press extra weight, forcing his body down. “only twenty-three left. you can do it, my love.”
if his heart wasn’t beating fast enough before, it definitely was now. especially with the saccharine tone you used at the end of your sentence.
god, was he down bad.
“… call us when you’re done,” megumi says, already out of the classroom.
silly thought inspired by this video HAHA can you tell he makes me a little a lot insane
