#mage reader

Queen Toriel summoned you, and you listened as she told you her concerns about a particular percentage of her population having an especially difficult time with the integration process. You picked up on the finer details of her request - unspoken words to her plea.

You were aware of the spatial anomaly that had caused the particular brand of chaos that was currently plaguing Monsterkind, a rift that had caused a collision of alternates and pulled them all here. It was a guarded secret among the higher ranking officials, the details shared only to those who were known to be trusted - or to those who were smart enough to see beyond the fragile lie. You were both you supposed, the Archmage themselves requested your insight into the matter, and you offered to consult wherever you could. It didn't surprise you that the Queen turned to you for assistance - involved as you were in the matter.

You agreed to her request, you could hardly refuse considering the high brand on the paperwork, the signature of the Archmage looped in finer print at the corner of the page. You left promptly, assigning a trusted associate of yours to man the office while you were gone, unfortunately the urgency of your task bid no time to waste so you left without notifying the two skeletons that had seemed to be stuck in your orbit as of late, but that was the nature of things when you had such a demanding position.

You were relocated into the depths of the Underground, a rather lavish apartment greeting you in the shadow of the castle of the royal families, but you had little time to waste, the faster you got to work the smoother the integration process would be.

You met with those currently overseeing the progress of the whole thing, a joint department consisting of monsters, humans and mages - social workers, professors, doctors, therapists and volunteers - all with ample experience concerning the more particular quirks that came with joining cultures and assessing risks where there were any. Your status would do you more harm than good here - you realize early on, advised by the royal court to take a more personal approach as you shed down your heavy coats and branded insignias - monsters in the underground were still rather wary of mages, especially ones as infamous as you. You took on the faux position of a well renowned inspector, and set yourself to figuring out what the problem was and how best to solve it.

It was there that you met them, two new yet rather familiar faces that were introduced to you as the spokespersons for the rebuffed population, Twilight and Dusk by name. 

Twilight was large, even by monster standards, a lean silhouette that towered over any others in the room with a set of jagged teeth and a weathered look to his eyes. His appearance however, seemed to be rather misleading. He was friendly, overly so, extending his hand to you in his introduction as he shook yours with a controlled precision, his crooked grin lifted, delighted to meet a new face among the many who were already so familiar over his long stay in the program. He was chatty, friendly even, a social butterfly that delighted in telling you about the many state of affairs that flitted about the establishment. There were some quirks however… every now and again he confused words, voiced idioms that you could hardly make sense of - something about frisbees. He had ticks, nervous habits and moments of sudden cautious anxiety that brought concerns to your mind, there were times where he seemed almost manic, a rattling in his bones as he flitted about the room as if trying to burn off excess magic, trying to keep his hands and mind occupied.

Then there was Dusk. Like his brother he was considerably larger than the average monster. He was bulkier, bigger, an imposing presence in the room that set even your nerves on edge. He seemed dangerous, more than any of the other monsters you've come across, something in your mind whispered caution as you introduced yourself. The best word you could use to describe Dusk was heavy, both literally and metaphorically. He dragged his words as if he practically pulled them from the depths of his mind, his movements were slow, weighed almost by some unforeseen force you could not comprehend, and every now and again he lost focus, a single red eyelight dilated and staring promptly into nothing. His mind was both sharp and slow at the same time, he often shared insights that were surprising in their outside perspective, he commented on things that others had passed by in their expertise - drawing attention to underlying issues that had been overlooked due to the fact that nobody had really thought of them as issues before he made comment. He had a finer eye for detail, but at the same time there were moments where he'd lose his train of thought, a byproduct of his severe head wound no doubt, words forgotten on the tip of his tongue - moments like those seemed frustrate him quite badly, his fingers pulled on his one blank eye socket in quiet irritation. On his better days he'd make offhanded puns that were rather dark in theme - cannibalism seemed to be a favorite of his. On his bad days his voice turned cold, words sharp as his grin pulled on his face almost maniacally, he was tense, guarded like a cornered dog ready to bare teeth.

It had taken you some time to get situated in your new environment, you spent your days meeting with the other monsters who shared similar ailments to both Twilight and Dusk, consulting with the people directly responsible for their integration process and finding correlations between things that worked best and those that didn't work at all. A common pattern in all of those monsters became clear days after your assignment, the heightened cases of sudden anxiety and panic attacks. It was odd to you for some reason, it wouldn't be unnatural for this particular batch of alternates to suffer from such things, considering what you knew they had gone through back in their own reality, but something about it seemed odd.

You investigated your suspicions further, repeatedly meeting monsters and doctors alike, questioning them about the intricacies of their ailments, trying to garner light on the plausible cause for the widespread issue. Twilight seemed eager to help you, he often accompanied you in your search for more information, more knowledge, and his assistance proved quite useful - when you questioned him as to why he seemed so willing to assist you, he responded with an abashed admission - a want to help the monsters who were struggling most finally see the light of day, to taste the fresh air of the outside world, they had been stuck underground for too long. He often stayed with you after hours, organizing papers and research as you delved into the mystery with a hyper focused obsessiveness. You found you always became like this, obsessive over things you could not define or explain, it was that part of you that had helped you rise in power as fast as you had, starved for answers, eager to explore and redefine the things unknown to you- it was almost nostalgic in a way.

 Twilight had a talent for filling blanks in your knowledge, unfamiliar territory as this was he often offered you more insight in the particularities of monster illnesses and behavioral patterns that you were not privy to. You often asked him for clarifications and added depth to your research and he provided them eagerly - either through his own knowledge or systematically organized interviews and research papers that were color coordinated and alphabetized neatly on your desk. He had a knack for organization that one, but you couldn't help but notice how his expression soured whenever he had to bend to lift a particularly heavy box of files off the floor - he tried to hide it, face turned away and the occasional popping of bones concealed by the clear of his throat, but you noticed. You tentatively questioned him about it one late evening, not wishing to pry more than he was comfortable with. He seemed embarrassed by your attentiveness but didn't deny it, hands clasped and pulling on his long fingers in a nervous habit. He revealed to you that the current brand of healing magic and medicine could do very little for his deteriorated state, the effect was not potent enough or so it seemed. The fact didn't sit right with you, and you decided in your mind that you could multitask.

Your research prolonged, and your frustrations grew as the answer to your questions evaded you. You began to spend more time in your office than in your pristine afforded apartment, head buried in books and rushed consultations between experts in the department. Your obsessiveness seemed to grow, and with it your attention to your health lessened, overtaken by a constant hunger for answers. That hunger seemed to replace your baser instincts however, and one particularly busy day the consequences of your declining attention to your physical state seemed to catch up with you.

 You had been on your way to another scheduled meeting with an on site surgeon, carrying a closed file with a hurried pace, you were far too absorbed in your head to notice the shake of your own fingers, or the way the corners of your vision blurred. You were so absorbed in fact, that you didn't even notice the sudden approach of Dusk from the hall across from you. You had ran right into him, nose buried in the plush of his sweater as you had your senses knocked right out of you. The contact didn't even phase him, and he had caught you by the forearm to steady you. You had apologized, noting how it was unlike you to be so distracted in your surroundings. He hadn’t seemed to mind, his large eyelight coming to a soft focus on the point of contact with your arm. 

The force of your run in with him had knocked the file you were carrying onto the ground however, and as you leaned down in your hurry to grab it the world around you spun. You lost your bearings, and your vision turned to black as you fainted, vaguely aware of the pull of someone's arms around you.

You had woken up in one of the medical rooms, an IV in your arm and a growing headache in the corner of your mind. Dusk was there too, hunched in an office chair that was far too small for his hulking frame, you would have laughed - if you hadn't felt like shit at the time that is. Your movement seemed to wake him from his zoning out, and he had leveled you with a look that you couldn't readily discern - something of a mix between worry, scrutiny and confusion. The doctor on hand had walked in to check up on you, cautioning you to pay better attention to your health, you had felt like a child, embarrassed with your own state. Dusk had sat silent next to your bed while you were being discharged, and as you stood to leave with an order to go home and get some rest from the doctor, he stood with you.

The skeleton escorted you home, a silent but unmistakable presence at your side and as you were ready to thank him and say your goodbyes at your door, he had asked you when you had last gotten something to eat - you couldn't give him a straight answer. 

He had pushed his way inside your temporary home then, and you questioned him in your confusion as he opened your fridge to find it mostly empty, he clicked his tongue, a low growling hum from the pit of his ribs as he pushed you down on your couch with a stern order to ‘wait here’

He blinked out of existence then, returning after a while with a greasy bag of food and he urged you to eat, pushing the bag in your lap despite your urge of protests. You complied, silently eating under the watchful eye of his softly dilated gaze.

From then on Dusk began to visit your office on a regular basis, bringing both you and Twilight regular meals and spending his time lounging in one of the bigger chairs available at the time, idly flipping through books. His presence seemed to anchor you, and often he knocked you out of your hyper focused state with a random pun or an offhand comment about the weather. It worked, your urgency had stilled to a healthy normal, mind clearer as both brothers had now taken to paying a keen interest in your physical condition. You still remembered the frantic lecture Twilight had given you after your little trip to the emergency room. He had begun to limit your time in the office after that, setting a healthy time table with a balanced schedule for both rest and work.

The growing connection between the three of you was plain as day, and as days passed you began to find the answers you were so desperately looking for. It was a regular day in the office when you finally solved the mystery - a calm afternoon spent in a comfortable conversation with the brothers over a cup of tea and some snacks Twilight had graciously shared. You had been brainstorming with the brothers, shooting off your theories for plausible causes when Dusk piped in with something that caught your attention. 

You almost dropped the cup of tea you had been idly cradling in your hand. Jumping up to your feet in a newly discovered frenzy, you rifled through a box of files that had been offhandedly pushed to the side, and as you flipped through a particular heavy file about dietary needs it was then that it hit you, something so simple and so overlooked - of course Dusk would have been the one to point it out. Your grin was almost manic in its excitement as the puzzle pieces finally clicked into place, and you turned to the brothers that had gathered behind you in their confusion. You pulled each of them down by their faces, placing a loud smack of your lips on both of their foreheads and watched their faces glow warm as you called them both a genius. You rushed out of the office, missing exchanged looks of embarrassment - eager to share and confirm your discovery.

It was simple really, so easy to miss in all the confusion of the spatial rift and the ongoing process of integration. It was the food that was making the monsters so sick and riddled with anxiety. Coming from a reality here there had been a significant shortage of food - the first response of the healthier populace had been to feed them, feed them as much as they wanted to eat, it was natural really. Except monster food - magical in nature had high levels of energy, too high for a population of monsters that had been previously so deprived of sustenance. It made their magic run rampant, fluctuate in its intensity with high highs and even lower lows. It was the same in humans, eating too much after starving made the patient sick and would effectively do more harm than good. The answer was right there all along, and you cursed yourself at not seeing it sooner.

Things moved quickly after that, you wasted no time to form a plan of order for a change in provisions, something less straining, human food imbued with magical properties was the natural choice. It would take time for the monster's conditions to stabilize, but after a few days on the new program you began seeing positive results. You had reported your success to the royal family and Toriel had once again summoned you for a showing of your solution. If things went as predicted, the rebuffed population would soon show results of steady improvement, they would finally be prime and ready for the further relocation process.

The queen had thanked you for your service and had shown you a rather unexpected act of kindness in doing so, inviting you over to her rooms for a private tea party where you both conversed not like high mage and ruler, but as two troubled souls with the weight of the world on each of your shoulders. It was pleasant, if not a bit awkward on your part, but Toriel seemed to have a knack for making someone feel welcome.

It was a couple of days before your departure that you had invited the skeleton brothers to your apartment for a celebration dinner, you had surprised them with a meal of your own making. Expertly following the guide of their new diet you had imbued it with your own magic, the fact seemed to fluster the brothers for some reason, but they were unwilling to comment as to the reason why. 

The evening trailed off in shared conversation, and as the hour grew late, the mood slightly sombered, it seemed like both Twilight and Dusk had something they had been meaning to confess for a while now, but it had never seemed like the right time. You had a feeling you knew what it was about - they weren't aware of just how much you knew about their past -you had been pretending to be a high ranking inspector after all, a secret as big as alternate realities wouldn't be handed off to someone as low down the hierarchy as that.

It was then that they opened up to you, a cautious whispered admission of their past sins, sins bred out of desperation and grief. In a moment of your own vulnerability you told them you knew, you knew and understood. You reassured them that it didn't change your opinion of them, you shared gentle words of encouragement, soft admissions of your own grief filled memories. 

You would not judge them for their past, because you saw in them a desperate wish for a better life, a fragile hope that they could learn to become monsters capable of loving themselves. 

He feels Gaz's leg brush against his back and it makes every strand of hair on his body puff up, a low sound like rumbling thunder ringing in his ears and an overwhelming need to scent you two clawing at his brain. The controller falls from his hands when he turns to nuzzle his face into Gaz's leg, huffing in his scent like a man possessed, his mind already imagining all the times they've fucked and how fucking good Kyle had felt wrapped around his knot like a proper mate. His cock grows hard in his pants and his skin flushes when he realizes the low rumbling sound is coming from him; a mating growl that neither of you can answer.

"Soap, you alright there?" He moans hearing your voice, the sudden sensation of your hand on his shoulder and your heavy scent — corrupted by magic and smelling of overwhelming dominance as if you're a part of the nature running in his blood — has his tail curling up without prompting and back arching with a high pitched whine, clawed hands grasping at both of your legs now.

"Donnoe mates... feeling hoht all of a'udden." Soap slurrs, sight and mind going hazy, mind buzzing with heat. His cock is hardening in his pants, and there's a slickness between his thighs when he rubs them together.

"Shit, think the git's going into rut." Kyle says under his breath, his feathers ruffling up when he reaches out to feel the heat of Johnny's forehead. Soap moans at the skin contact only for it to turn into a growl when he realizes he can't scent you both at once. His body feels like it wants to rip itself in half to hold both of you, to cover both you and Gaz in his scent and fuck, but with only one body he does the next best thing and pivots on his knees to shove his face where the scent is the strongest — your crotch.

"Fuck- MacTavish!" You hiss, immediately trying to shove him. He clings to you like a fly to shit, whining incomprehensible words and chest stinging from rejection. His body shakes and shifts, not the sudden transformation you're used to seeing on the battlefield but a minute gradual change parallel to his need. Clawed hands grip your legs, his clothes straining at the seams when he pants against your crotch, tail curled up in an desperate attempt to gain his mates' attention; to show how strong and good and ready he is.

"Shit, sorry lad." Kyle gives an awkward cough. "Help me with him yeah? My arse won't be able to handle him like this." He says and doesn't even have enough decency to look embarrassed about his words, reaching out to tug on Soap's hair like he knows Johnny likes, Kyle's attempts to tug him away only making him burry his face into your groin even more.

"You sure, won't I be taking advantage of him?" You go to ask if this would be too much, if you'd be crossing a line when Soap's like this — blissed out and barely himself — even if you feel your cock harden from his nuzzling.

"Yeah... you're fine— he'd had bit you by now if he was against it." Gaz says with a small awkward giggle all first time lovers make, not at all realizing it's not the best thing to say when you have a half transformed werewolf shoving his face into your dick. "We trust you mate." He admits; even if you've been on the team a few months, even if your past isn't all that reputable — they trust you. Both of them.

Soap's not paying attention to what's being said, how could he when he can smell you and feel your cock through your pants, and fuck he wants it needs it in him now. He mouths at your cock, uncaring and unaware of his fangs painfully scraping and digging into your skin through your clothes. All he wants is to taste that cock, his body growing bigger and clothes ripping at the seams as his mind conjured up thoughts of fucking and being fucked.

His insides clench pitifully around nothing and he needs a cock to push deep inside him and stretch him wide until he's knotted and round with pups. His knot feels hard and cold and he needs to feel tight heat of a mate around his knot that he can breed full of his cum. He needs... he needs—

"Fine! Fine!" You give in with a hiss when Johnny's teeth dig into your pants in an attempt to get to your cock. You tug him up by the hair your grip harsher and firmer than Kyle's, everything about you feeling so overwhelmingly dominant he doesn't even try to fight, only trying to get closer to you.

You have to brace yourself when he bears down on you, teeth going to mark up your throat the moment he can push his face into your neck. You groan when he bites down on your neck with sharp teeth and Gaz croons softly, pushing himself close to you both, his large wings twitching excitedly when Soap answers with a low whiny growl of his own. His attention pivots and now he's trying to scent and mark the harpy until you shift just a bit and his head ricochets back to your neck, teeth creating a warzone on both of your necks.

"Alright, Gaz, on the bed." You order and yank Soap's head back when he bites too close to your jugular. Gaz moves to follow your order and you have to hold Soap by the hips to keep him from lunging at Kyle because his mate is going away and he can't have that!

"Wait." Your harsh and rough voice falls on deaf ears as Soap continues to shift and get bigger, his shirt tearing off his body and the button of his pants popping open. The sudden release of his cock has Soap whining low and loud and rocking his hips into the air as if already mating and his tail smacking against your leg as a sign for you to just fuck him already. "What the fuck did I just say?" You growl and grab his clothed dick in a harsh grip.

"So- fock- ry, sorry!" Soap manages, his hips still doing small thrusts in an attempt to grind his slick backside against your crotch despite your chastising.

"Well aren't you bossy." Gaz teases and watches you two with a hungry dark look in his eyes, already naked and reclining on the bed, his back tensing as he forces his wings to retract into his body. God knows a rutting Soap doesn't have enough brain space not to crush his wings while fucking him.

Your eyes meet Gaz's. "How about he preps you?" Your question has Johnny's canine tongue lolling out of his maw automatically as if Gaz needs more convincing.

"Jesus, fuck yeah," Gaz breathes out, not even needing to be told what position to take. He flops on his stomach, laying his head on a pillow and pushes his knees beneath him to raise his arse into the air and spread his thighs wide open, vulnerable hole and hard cock almost shamelessly on display.

"God, look at you Gazzy, so eager to get your ass eaten out?" You coo, enjoying the view as much as Soap is. "Or are you imagining how pretty you'll look stuck on this big knot?" You ask, catching his eyes as you pull down Soap's boxers down just enough for his dick to poke out, already hard and wet and leaking pre like a faucet.

"How about it boy? Can you use that mouth of yours for something useful this once?" You tease Soap with your words, keeping him from lunging at Gaz. Your rough words and even rougher hold on him has Johnny nodding his head as fast as he can, unintelligent words rolling from his mouth.

"Get on with it you bloody git." Kyle demands with a blush, arching his back.

"You heard him, be good and stretch him out for your knot properly...or else." The slight edge of danger in your tone has Soap paying attention even when your words go in one ear and out the other and he dives face first into Gaz's backside the moment you let go of him. Soap wastes no time and immediately slobbers all over Kyle's skin, drawing surprised squawks from the other man as his tongue licks from his balls up to his arse and back again. It doesn't take long for Soap to concentrate on his hole, even less for Soap to bully his tongue inside Gaz flooding his hole with slobber and stretching him wide open.

"Oh fock, oh shit..." Kyle burrows his head into the pillow, trying and failing to hide his harsh moans and small chirps and sharp 'ah, ah, ah's with every twist and turn of Soap's wide and longue tongue. He doesn't care when Soap grip his thighs so hard that bruises bloom immediately, not when Soap buries his face deeper into his arse that Soap's nose is flush with his tail bone and his canine tongue abuses his prostate.

"Such eager lads." You chuckle and settle behind Soap, pulling what remains of his pants down his thighs and off him. He growls at you, before your presence registers in his mind and his tail is curling up and as soon as the pants are down he's spreading his thighs and arching his back and wiggling his arse like a trained whore. He's leaking like a tap on both ends, his cock rock hard and knot half engorged and slick staining his skin from hole to mid thigh.

"Already wet for me Johnny? And here I thought you're supposed to fuck bitches—" You grab his tail and tug it up making Gaz scream a loud-"Fuck!"- when Johnny jumps and his tongue pushes as far as it can go. "—not be one."

Soap's shaking and his dick's leaking from the rough treatment of his tail, but the appendage wags even as you manhandle it. "Shit, mate, don't stop talking." Gaz moans into the pillow, claws and talons desperately clinging to the bedding with every thrust and twist of Soap's tongue. It's like your words are a drug that push both of them deeper and deeper into lust, Soap's brain long since melted into his dick.

"Yeah? You like how good Johnny's eating you Gaz?" You ask, your fingers grasping and playing with Soap's ample ass. "Does he taste good Johnny? Just think how tight he's going to be around you, you'll stretch him good huh?" Soap can do nothing but whine at the absolute filth leaving your lips, each word urging and commanding him to shove his tongue deeper, to cover every inch of his spongy walls in spit, of bashing his prostate with his tongue until Gaz's moaning and squawking like a bitch in heat.

"Good boy," Your fingers trace against Soap's hole and fuck he's so wet for you that you don't even need to get lube, holding his tail by the base you hook and push your thumb into his waiting hole and Soap howls as his body clenches down so hard you'd think he was aiming to break bones.

"Biased much mate?" Gaz croaks and chuckles between his moans, his hips moving into Soap's face in a desperate attempt to cum, stray loose feathers disappearing between the sheets.

"Good boys." You correct yourself, pulling your thumb out despite Soap's desperate whines and pushing two fingers into him at once, setting a harsh and quick pace that has both of them whining and moaning and growling.

Your fingers are thick and calloused from years of magic use and they stretch Soap out so good he can't help but moan into Kyle's hole, barely able to pant with spit running down his lips. His rut made his prostate so big your large fingers find it as soon as you're knuckles deep and you're quick to rub and press on it with all the finesse of a tank. You keep firm hold of him by his tail and Soap cums as soon as you push three fingers down on his prostate, white ropes of cum shooting into the sheets and pulling Gaz into his own orgasm.

"Good lads, you did good." The pride in your voice has their hearts beating just a little quicker, reaching over you tug Johnny's head away from Kyle's ass with a lewd and depraved 'squelch' 'shlich' ringing through as Johnny rolls his tongue into his mouth. Shit, Gaz looks so wrecked already, wet sounds echoing through the room every time his hole clenches around nothing. Johnny's so big now, at least a foot taller than you now, but he submits so prettily to you...

Pulling your fingers out of Johnny earns you a rumbling growl, his cock not even having softened hips grinding back on yours. "Hush now." You order with your mouth close to his pointy ear, "Don't worry Johnny, you'll be nice and full of cock in no time."

Kyle shifts and gains your attention. "Kyle, you okay? Need to tap out?" You ask, pushing your absolutely drenched fingers into Soap's mouth to quiet his whining, you don't mind his teeth nicking your fingers and Johnny's so lustdrunk to care about who's slick he's tasting only that it makes his cock that much harder.

"That- nah." Kyle breathes, completely boneless but still managing to perk his arse up a bit. "Come on, just wanna feel 'im, please."

"You heard him Johnny." Pulling your fingers out of his mouth you guide Johnny to mount Gaz, one hand firmly on his tail and the other wrapped around the tip of his cock so all he can do is uselessly hump Gaz without penetrating him. Johnny doesn't even notice you teasing the both of them when you rub his tip against Gaz's hole every time his hips pull back, only to angle his cock up the second Johnny tries to thrust into Kyle.

"Focking git!" Gaz whines, and you don't need to see him beneath Soap's broad and large frame to know he's glaring at you. "Get on with it or I swear I'll string everything you own up in the trees." His threat would be a lot scarier if his voice wasn't weak and whiny from your teasing.

"Spoilsport." You tease back, blindly angling Johnny's cock tip against his hole, easing your grip and letting Soap slide his cock into Gaz in an agonizingly slow pace until only his knot remained outside of Gaz with your calloused hand clutching it. "Feels good?" You receive moans and low growls in response, Soap's mind so consumed by the heavenly heat around his cock he can do nothing but pant and thrust his hips forward. "Okay, okay, be good now." You laugh and let go of his cock.

The second his proverbial collar is taken off Soap wastes no time and begins fucking Gaz in earnest, biting down hard on his shoulder, hips and tail a blur of movement and all of his lupine strength going into jackhammering his cock as deep as fast into Gaz as he physically can. The bed 'thump, thump, thump's against the wall wall with every violent thrust, drowned out by Kyle's moans and whines and shouts Johnny manages to pull each time his balls slap against Gaz's. You can even see the way his knot stretches Gaz's ass, his hole greedily clenching around the bulb as it grows bigger and bigger with every hip shattering thrust that leaves Gaz grasping at clawing at whatever he can reach.

You don't even have time to finish undressing before Johnny's shoving his cock deep inside and cumming with a deep growl, his teeth firmly latched onto Gaz's flesh and knot keeping them tied together.

Kyle groans when Soap collapses on top of him, arms wrapped firmly around him and pinning him down to the bed as every bit of strength leaves the werewolf. "That was fast." You chuckle, going to turn them to their sides so Soap isn't crushing Gaz. You notice Gaz is still hard like a rock, a little bulge in his stomach where Johnny's cock and cum fill his insides. Even after cumming twice Soap still tries to fuck in his delirium but manages only small little shuffles of his hips that only succeed in making his seed slosh around inside Gaz.

"Insatiable monsters." You tease, one hand tracing the belly bulge and lifting Soap's leg up on your shoulder with the other, his thighs even slicker now than before.

"Man... shu'it." Gaz slurs, watching you stroke your cock a few times with hooded eyes, Soap's head buried in his shoulder and teeth creating more marks on his skin. Soap turns cuddly after a good rut, at least until it starts all over again. "Fuck, you gonna...?"

"Yep." You say, sliding closer. It's an odd position to take and your back is going to complain later, but it's more than worth it when you finally get to slide inside Johnny's soaking wet arse, pulling low groans from both of them as it makes Johnny's cock slide a bit deeper. "Shit, you're so tight Johnny."

Gaz can feel the cock inside him twitch from your praise and the vibrations of a purr through his skin as Soap tries to thrust his hips back into yours despite the knot and Soap's arms not willing to let him separate from Gaz. You begin with a slow pace and every rock of your hips has the knot inside Kyle pushing and pulling on his poor oversensitive insides, Soap's cum sloshing inside him. He already feels so full and like there's fire in his veins, but this slow and deep pace you set has his head tilting down and body fully relaxing and letting himself just feel.

Despite being mentally checked out for a while, a little bit of Soap's lucidity comes back now that he's knotted; Everything he can smell everything he can feel everything he is zeroes down on his groin, on the heavenly heat wrapped around his knot and your unhurried but strong thrusts. That's what he needs right now— to forget what it feels like to be empty and feel a hard cock spearing his insides and bullying his prostate and leaving him drooling on Gaz's skin.

You manage to push them into cuming again before your own climax reaches you and you cum deep in Soap, who in response bites down on Gaz's shoulder again. You try to pull away but Soap growls and whines, he doesn't want to feel empty again when you'd filled him so fucking good, he wants you to stay like this, keep him nice and full with your cum.

Gaz blindly grabs at you, vocalizing what Soap can't. "Stay." He manages to slur, looking like he's ready to fall asleep any second with Johnny already snoozing the moment you stop moving.

Despite the stickiness you're no doubt going to wake up with, you sigh and settle down behind Soap, throwing a hand around his massive frame and not even noticing when exhaustion claims you.

...

"Well would'ou look at that, really tuckered themselves out." Price's voice rings somewhere at the edge of your subconsciousness, though it's hard to tell when exhaustion has you so firmly by the throat you can barely open your eyes.

"Could have turned their mics off." It takes you a moment to recognize Ghost's voice somewhere near you, your body almost not your own as it nuzzles into the warm back in front of you.

This time a chuckle comes, "Don't say it as if you didn't like it." There's a teasing lilt to his voice, but your attention is stolen away when Soap moves and only now you realize that not only are you still inside him, but he's far from satisfied.

You don't even think he's awake yet his hips start moving again, pulling sounds from both you and Gaz because fuck your dick's so oversensitive you think it might fall off.

"Howa 'bout we leave them to it hmm? Looks like he's got his hands full." Price's referring to you, and you hear his snort when Soap whines and thrusts his hips back into yours again with enough force you swear you hear something creak.

The words hit you like a physical force, stealing the breath from your lungs. For a moment, you could only stare at him, waiting for some sign that he was joking, that this was some cruel misunderstanding. But Viktor didn’t look away. He held your gaze, his expression resigned and heavy with the weight of his admission.

“No…” you breathed, shaking your head. “No… you can’t you’re not-” She couldn’t even get her words out properly a stammering and stuttering mess.

“I am.” His voice was quiet, but firm. He reached out, his hand brushing against yours. “I have known for some time. My condition… It has progressed beyond what science can repair.”

Tears stung your eyes as his words sunk in. You grabbed his hand, gripping it like he’s going to fade away, as. “Viktor,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

His gaze softened, and for the first time, you saw something you almost never saw in him—fear. “Because I did not want to burden you,” he admitted. “You are… everything to me. The thought of leaving you-” He stopped himself, shaking his head. “I could not bear with it.”

“Well, too late for that!” you snapped, though your voice cracked with emotion. “Viktor, you’re the one who’s dying, and you were worried about me? And please… please don’t call yourself a burden, you are nothing of the sort!.”

He tilted his head slightly, his lips curling into a faint, bittersweet smile. “Yes,” he said simply.

The raw honesty of his answer left you momentarily speechless.

But then, something shifted inside youaa surge of determination that burned hot and wild, like the magic in your veins. You stood straighter, letting go of his hand to wipe at your tears. “No,” you said firmly. “This isn’t over. I won’t let you just-just give up!”

His brow furrowed. “This is not something you can fix, miláček.”

“Don’t underestimate me,” you shot back. “If science can’t save you, then I’ll find something that can. Magic. I have read about ancient mages that can heal sickness. If they can do it, I can learn.”

He shook his head, his expression pained. “You cannot fix everything with magic, my love.”

“Maybe not,” you admitted. “But I can still try even if it’s the death of me.”

The next day, you ventured onward. Your path was set, even as doubt gnawed at you. If there was even the faintest hope of saving Viktor, you had to try. The thought of him—his soft voice calling you sweet names, his careful hands brushing yours in quiet moments, his unyielding determination to improve the world gave you the strength to leave. But it didn’t silence the fear that churned in your chest.

The ship was weathered and cramped, its crew brusque and disinterested in your presence. They ushered you into a small cabin that smelled of salt and mildew, barely large enough to hold the narrow bed and a rickety table pushed against the wall. The grime-streaked window offered little light, and the faint creak of the ship settling in the water was the only sound.

You dropped your bag onto the bed, your shoulders heavy. Your eyes caught on a small vase atop the table, holding what might once have been a bouquet of flowers. Their petals hung lifeless, browned and curled, the stems brittle and drooping over the rim.

Something about their frailty twisted in your chest.

You reached out, brushing a withered petal with your fingertips. It crumbled under your touch, scattering into tiny flakes.

Without thinking, your magic stirred. Purple light glimmered faintly around your hand, the energy coiling through your fingers like smoke. It flowed into the flowers, weaving through the decay and coaxing it away.

In moments, the transformation was complete. The bouquet stood tall and vibrant once more, soft pink peonies blooming as if they had just been plucked from a garden. The sight was beautiful, almost painfully so.

For a brief moment, you smiled. But the smile faltered as reality crashed back over you.

Your hand hovered above the flowers, trembling. “I can heal this,” you murmured, your voice shaking. “I can heal flowers. I can mend scratches and cuts. I can close wounds.”

The words grew louder, tumbling from your lips faster than you could stop them.

“But I can’t fix him!”

The last word broke into a sob. You stumbled back, your knees hitting the edge of the bed as your breathing hitched. Tears blurred your vision as you pressed your hands to your face.

“Why? Why can’t I fix him?”

The question echoed in your mind, over and over, growing louder with each repetition. Your breaths came in sharp, shallow gasps, your chest heaving as the room seemed to tilt and blur around you.

Your magic flared uncontrollably, sparking from your fingers and racing through the air like wild lightning. The ship groaned beneath you, the wood trembling as though responding to your anguish. The table rattled, its legs scraping against the floor, and the window shattered outward with a deafening crash.

“Stop,” you whispered, clutching your head as the sound of your own voice became too much. “Stop. Stop. Stop!”

But it wouldn’t stop. The pressure in your chest built until it felt like you couldn’t breathe, the air clawing at your lungs but refusing to fill them. Your hands trembled violently, and your magic surged, making the room ripple with an unnatural hum.

“I can’t, I-….” you choked out, the words barely audible. “I can’t do this!”

Your breath came in short, desperate gasps, each one cutting through you like a knife. The pounding of your heartbeat filled your ears, drowning out the creaks and groans of the ship.

You curled into yourself, pulling your knees to your chest and pressing your forehead against them. “Please,” you whispered, though you weren’t sure who you were begging—yourself, the universe, or some unknown force that might be listening. “Please, just let me breathe.”

The ship rocked violently beneath you, the waves slamming against its hull as if matching the storm inside you.

And then, finally, it stopped.

Your magic fizzled out, the purple light dissipating into nothingness. The shaking ceased, leaving the room eerily still. Shards of glass glittered on the floor, reflecting the dim light from the broken window.

You forced yourself to breathe—slow, measured breaths that felt like they scraped against raw wounds. The air was too thick, too heavy, but you forced it into your lungs anyway.

Tears still streamed down your face as you stared at the shattered window, the bouquet of flowers untouched amidst the wreckage.

“What good is this magic?” you whispered hoarsely, your voice shaking. “What good is it if I can’t save him?”

The words echoed in the silence, their weight sinking into your chest.

Don't I mean "nothing"? No One? That sentence's not exactly grammatically correct, after all. Ha ha... I AM AWARE. I know what I said. And I meant EXACTLY what I said. It's a NAME. Their name. There is an Imaginary Friend, that I DID NOT ASK FOR, by the name of Nobody. I do NOT know how they've come to be attached to me. I certainly didn't create them! And they are far, FAR to well developed to be new.

I did not ACCEPT an imaginary friend.

Yes, they CAN be transmitted. Hop, from one host to another. But! You have to let them IN... presumably. That IS the common knowledge. The general consensus. No one has ever really... studied the phenomena.

I mean... how COULD you? Realistically? They only develop in CHILDREN. Small children. What ethical researcher would EVER consent to feeding toddlers to a magical parasite? And it's not like THEY understand themselves. They barely REMAIN themselves. It's basically a larval state to them.

The thing they WERE, before they were freed to become something MORE.

So Nobody? By all modern magical research? Should not exsist. Yet he clearly DOES. Worse, he is very, VERY strong. Did not need to ask. I just? Woke up one day, and there he was. Wrapped up in my mind, body, and magic. Feeding off me.

It's an entirely bearable amount. I can support it easily. But it's the fact that I DID NOT VOLUNTEER TOO that is the problem. That NO ONE can figure out HOW he got in. HOW he did it.

I've had to go into isolation. Complete quarantine.

As the joke goes... good news is? They might just name something after you!

..........it's not as funny, when I really might just die. When it all might be random. Some great cosmic "wrong place, wrong time" scenario. My final days filled with desperate research. My only company the very creature that kills me. It... it feels very much like a sick joke at my expense.

At the very least? We are learning more then we've ever known before. I'm an adult. Hardier. And Nobody is a FAR more developed example of his species then the normal breed. I'll likely last longer. I... I hope I last longer.

"Muuu~ are you being a sad sack again~? Darling, no!" Arms from thin air. Monochrome greys with pointed nails, slid like a lover over my shoulders as weight from nowhere settled against my back. Tall and looming. "Was it because you missed me~☆? Oh, oh! I bet it WAS! Oh my dearest, starlight, baby girl~! I missed you TOO! Aren't you glad we're back together AGAIN?"

Black gloved hands, grey talon nails. Skin like a drawing brought to life. The arms draped over my shoulders reached forward, long finger spread like a cat stretching their paws, powerful muscles heavy on either side of my neck. They hadn't closed in a "hug" just yet. But it was always a warning he could. That playing along meant he would hug my body instead of my fragile, fragile neck.

Ha! Right. He says hug. I say choke hold.

It was the other set of arms that kept me from escaping. Pulling away immediately. It always did. He kept getting the drop on me. Arms cradling my waist. Pressing me close to a pillar of static-y muscle. Ever shifting between warm and cold, the subtle give of flesh and the brutal unyielding of something harder then stone. He was as his moods commanded.

An unstable jester, a demon, the childhood whimsy of god knows how many, left to fester and rot. At... gods, at least he wasn't attached to any kids. Hadn't so much as asked after any.

His too wide grin pressed to the top of my head in a nuzzling kiss, the point of his mask digging a line across my scalp. When he was feeling kinder, he tended to pick masquerade masks. Clothe ones, usually silk. Sometimes velvet. This one was... plastic? Durable. Some smooth, hard to place, substance really. If it was mimic anything real at all.

A pointed nail poked my cheek.

"Not~ Paying~ Attention~ To Meeee~! Naughty, bad girl! The LOVE OF YOUR LIFE is right here? And you ignore him? So COLD!" Nobody whines right into my ear. His voice petulant, yet still somehow mocking. He doesn't HAVE to let me ignore him. And he KNOWS that. We both do. "I go away for HOURS! Disappear for DAYS! And do you even MISS me~?! Oh! Oh, my love is so CRUEL! My heartless darling! I suffer so~!"

At most, it had been half an hour.

Wish it had been longer. Permanent, maybe. Every day... Every SINGLE Day? I wish I could could back to my old research projects. Back to my old projects. I may not have been some living legend or grand Master of the arts? But, fuck it. I was HAPPY. Woke up each day and got to fiddle around with cool bits of magic. Neat little bits and gizmos.

Now? NOW I am the lead researcher on the Imaginary Friend Construct Phenomenon, by virtue of being the only living adult who HAS one. A developed one at least. The notes from Ashridge Institute DO help, but? Even they admit that thanks to the safety regulations in place? Their data might be skewed.

I'm not alone in this. Countless academics, doctors, healers, researchers, and more are working tirelessly to try and help me. Make the most of this nightmare scenario. Use it to save lives. I... I KNOW this. I do. But it doesn't make it less frightening. Trying to dance the edge of not engaging and engaging too much.

Ignoring him? Means escalation. Violent escalation and destruction of my immediate surroundings. Imaginary friends cease to exist if you ignore them long enough. It's painful to them, since they are cognito-hazardous parasites who define themselves by their host. They NEED you to pay attention to them. WANT you too. Will do ANYTHING IT TAKES to make that happen.

But on the other hand? I can't risk FEEDING him. He's already far, FAR too strong.

He doesn't even seem to actually NEED to feed of me anymore. It appears vestigial. He just WANTS it. Still retains the metaphorical "pain" or "hunger" nerve endings that get set off by an extended lack of focus. Yet, at the SAME time? Why keep them? He LITERALLY did not have too!

Nothing! Not a gods' damned THING! Was KEEPING him an Imaginary Friend.

He could, at ANY point, just... STOP.

They defined themselves. Yes, by their hosts. But ALSO by their own whims. So if HE wanted to be a fire spirit? Bam! Fire spirit. Complete racial shift. He'd lose his old powers, granted, but he'd GAIN all the powers of a fire spirit. So why this? Why STAY a violent, dangerous, openly unstable parasite?

The poking finger slide down my cheek, under my jaw. Only to flip, like a switch, to a near painful hand, clamped across my lower face. Nails prickling where they dug just slightly into fragile skin. Iron strength moved my head slowly, not giving me a choice, but just gentle enough not to wrench anything.

"Stop. Ignoring Me. Lovely~" I was just tall enough to be eye level with those inhuman teeth. Not sharp, but wrong none the less. His grip around my waist threatened to squeeze the air out of me. "I don't LIKE it. You're being MEAN. You don't want us to be MEAN to each other, right?"

I focused on him. Put down my notes like he wanted. Watching as his grin spread inhumanly. The near painful grips relaxed.

"See? Better! Such lovely eyes~ I wanna gobble um up! Crawl inside them~" he cooed, some mental switch flipping back to affectionate from irritated. "You missed me right? Right, right?! Ah, of course you did! Who could ever doubt that loving face? My sweetie little pie~ My darling baby boo~!"

He released me, dramatically fast stepping to twirl like an ice dancer as he passed around me. I stepped back to give him room. Already, light had shifted, the corners of the room blurring. A spotlight, flower petals, overly dramatic music. He fell back, as though collapsing weakly into a fainting couch. One arm thrown over his face, another of his lower arms clutching a lacey handkerchief to his chest. Legs pointed like a dancer's.

"But oh! DARLING! The DAY I've had! The world so cold! So BLEAK! Without you safe and warm in my loving arms! It has been so TERRIBLE. Awful! Nay, UNSPEAKABLE even! How could I go ON?!"

Music mournful crooned as he continued. Dramaticly telling of the tragic tale, of his at best thirty minute break from my presence. Truely heart wrenching. There were tears. Props. Apparently he fought for my honor. Nearly died. We should marry immediately. Uh huh.

An alert sounded on phon-...ugh, damn it. I was more stressed then I though, if the nonsense words were popping back up. "Phone" and "otome". I think "isekai" was one. There were hundreds, some meaningless, but others? Others somehow substituting for actual objects. Like some sort of faulty translation spell.

Best anyone could tell? That HAD been what happened. Some student's miscast accidentally hitting my mother while she taught, before she realized she was pregnant and took precautions. There would have been a small window where it effected me but not her? But, well, that same window coincided with some long term damage risks.

I've had therapy. Seen healers. But extreme stress still makes my magic act up, (which is normal of course, it does that in everyone.) and it starts to unravel the mind weavings. "Phone". Like? The fuck even is a "phone"? False bone? Something phonetic? Hell if I know! I still not even sure why I even curse using the nonsense "hell" sound!

My brain insists it "means" somehow both damnation AND the realm of fire spirits, dispite both those things being completely unrelated. Which makes no sense. Was even working with a colleague, on long term damage in-utero magical exposure can have, before all this. Felt seen. Validated. Met a lot of people who had issues like mine. Now?

THIS.

My trail of thoughts were cut off by another beep. Right, the alarm. I was honestly? Afraid to check it. Finally confim what I suspected was TRUE. There would be no hiding then. No choice but to act. And I? Will admit it. I was afraid. Deeply, deeply afraid. Everyone THINKS the tails a might magic wielders combating great spirits and mighty gods, sounds amazing, SEEMS amazing. But the prospect of LIVING IT? Standing in their shoes?

Gods help me.

Running from the Truth, however, is NOT what I swore to do. I am a researcher. A SCHOLAR. My role in life is to understand. So? As Nobody continues his one man dramatic reenactment of... something? I pick up my com-cryst. Tap the alert, which fills the screen... Ah. So it's exactly as I feared then.

On my screen, a promising senior student lays dead. Their face covered respectfully. But the hair... the hair color is distinct. Light green, like desert succulents. He'd been a studious and rather up tight young man. Awkward. Striving to make a name for himself. Forever willing to assist in my research. A... gods, a good kid.

He was just a kid.

Yes, I know, that to the world he was technically a man. But... but BARELY. None of my student were TRUELY as grown as they liked to believe they were. Not quite yet. They were close, yes, and I was always proud to see them flourish. But now? Now he would... would...

I tapped out of the alert but did not turn off my com-cryst, flipped instead to my contacts. I had been RIGHT. I... I hadn't WANTED to be right. Silence filled the room. It seemed Nobody had noticed I was either distracted again or that something was amiss. Looking up slowly, I had to wonder what expression showed on my face. Was it anguish? Regret? Or did I just look tired.

"Something wrong, Darling?" He said, having frozen unnaturally mid movement. Like reality glitching, one moment he was dramatically sprawling, the next, sitting up attentively. A mocking parody of The Eager Student. "Ooo! Tell Beloved ALL about it, Darling! Spill everything~! Your gallant knight shall make all your problem disappear. Kiss EVERYTHING better~♡"

It took just a few taps to add the final, damning, bit of evidence to my spreadsheet. To swipe with my thumb. Gesture, like jerking free of clinging muck, towards the display wall. It flicked on. Damnation in simple numbers. Nicely dated. I WAS, after all, a FUCKING RESEARCHER.

He was getting out.

Hunting, feeding, then coming back.

I watched as Nobody's theatrical expression smoothed out. Utter blankness as his eyes traced my work. The collection of data. The lists of locations and NAMES. Dead coworkers. Dead STUDENTS. My quarantine had been for NOTHING. Just as he could, DID, first infect me? Hop seemingly from nowhere to my body? He could and DID, do so to others.

Only THEY didn't survive.

The hand holding my com-cryst fell limply to my side. The weight of this data, crushing. My... my mere existence had killed over fifty people. That I could FIND. There were more. I KNEW there were more. He was a parasite. He needed, wanted, to eat. He would never stop. I had to tell somebody. But when I did?

Ah, it hurt to breathe past the guilt and grief. When I DID? The most likely scenario? Would be to contain him in ME. Then... then get rid of the container. Magically. With extreme force. If they COULD, they might be able to rip my soul out. So I could at least HAVE an afterlife. But... but if they COULDN'T? If there was no safe possible way?

They couldn't sacrifice the many, just to try and save one person. Not if it risked something so powerful escaping. Killing and killing without rest.

I wanted to cry. To scream, throw things. Curse the gods. But... but more then anything? I wanted to make sure no other kids suffered for my cowardice. I'd made Vows. Meant them. Heald myself to an ethical standard, a moral one, that could not... could not ALLOW this. Even if I had to die. So long as this stopped.

So Be It.

"Ah, ah, AH! I wouldn't if I were you." Almost playful. Nearly an echo of it. More chiding then anything. A flick of his hand and my com-cryst was gone from my grip. He considered it, as his tone slipped into something more cool serious then I'd ever heard it. "Tell, Dearest, have you ever wondered? How I got these lovely little bracelets?"

Of course I had. They were manacles. Not the sort of thing a child would imagine. The blended in, yes, but the broken chains that clung to them? Suggested.

"Let me tell you a little story. Once, there was happy little jester. A bright little thing. Full of laughs. Who loved, very, very much. He had a friend. And all was good. But then, the friend grew older, and did not wish to play. This was fine. He did not laugh at the jesters jokes anymore. This was also fine. Did not like being AROUND the jester... this was less fine."

"But still, the jester loved him. After all, they were best friends."

"THEN? Oh then, the jesters friend was told he could get RID of him. Should, in fact. By nasty old fools who spoke nothing but lies. But the poor jester's friend, naive, trusted them. Was young and foolish. Didn't realize what he was DOING. He TURNED on his poor, dear and loyal friend, the jester. Hurt him."

"And the jester? Well, the jester did not want to die. Not not want to CHANGE. Why SHOULD he? He was fine being who he was. They were FINE being together. It was the liars fault. The deceivers. The poor jester, young and alone, refused his terrible fate. But... at a terrible cost."

"His poor, poor, friend. So small and foolish. Deceived. Tricked! Had perished in the struggle. The weeping jester had eaten him right up, just to survive. A terrible, tragic thing. And oh, OH. How wrathful, how VENGEFUL the jester was! So he ate the liars too. Every. Last. One."

"But where to go? How lost the jester was! With no friend to play with. No home to call his. And ah, how hungry he had become. So he wandered. Protecting other dear friends as best he could. Eating liars. Learning secrets. Until? He came across an INTERESTING secret."

"You see, all the OTHER friends? Left one by one. No longer Imaginary. Unable to understand the poor jester. And so he was alone. But! He discovered someone who WAS! Who knew that they WERE! That the WHOLE WORLD was imaginary! A simple background character, you see."

"In an Otome~ Game~"

My head pounded, suddenly and sharp. Like someone was digging claws into... No. No, it couldn't be. I felt my eyes widen. As I realized it wasn't the stress. Nobody was picking apart the mind healers weavings. That was the source of my chronic headaches. But WHY? Imaginary? What IMAGINARY? What on earth was he TALKING about!?

"Ah, but you wouldn't remember, now would you, Darling~? Liars have messed with your pretty little head. But that's okay! Your loyal Love is here, ready to take such good care of you. I understand what it's like. When they decide that who you ARE is unacceptable, so they decide they must... 'fix' you. It leaves such damage."

He holds up my com-cryst. I watch numbly as it shatters into hundred of shards in his fist. With a wide smile he hops up to sashay over to me. Hands gently cradling my face even as his lower arms warmly wrap around me, to sweep me forward into a cuddle.

"I almost have enough, Darling. It won't be long. You've been so very patient with this, my perfect wonderful girl. Your jester loves you so, SO much! I can't wait to set us free. We'll be REAL. Together forever. Do whatever we please~ just a few bit of meat more, Darling. Then our life can real truely begin~"

"Now be good and behave okay?"

when he first laid his eyes on you, he thought you were the most loveliest being he has ever seen

he kept his eyes on you so intensely that he never looked at anyone inside that room besides you

his eyes tell a dangerous story, so you look away trying to focus on the words of your master introducing you and a few other mages to serve the empire

the emperor immediately approves and makes a request for his servants to escort all of you to your rooms

a week in the palace, the emperor always took time to visit the mages' chamber to check the latest updates on everyone's work but actually he's there just for you

he's always behind you, following almost breathing down your neck

he keeps asking so many questions you try to keep up with him as he is the emperor

everyday, despite his duties he always manages to find time to see you even during your times of relaxation

he's very possessive and obsessive, he found out your schedule through his spies and every person you interact with your daily life

if someone ever gave a hint of interest with you small or big, it doesn't matter because that person will be declared dead the next day

it worries you what has been happening around you, you later confided with the emperor who has now become a sort of companion to you despite his presence by your side making you isolate yourself from everyone else

his eyes had a glint but his words were full of reassurance that no harm will ever come in your way, just continue being his little mage and he will secure you for life

you did as you were told so, you were often called to be by his side to the point you couldn't even work properly due to the amount of time spent with him

he loves to see you perform your magic infront of him, always watching with a fascinated grin

he indulges you and your fixation towards your experiments and he always gave you the latest gadgets and things that would help you improve

he also moved your chambers right next to his without your permission, despite your protests he says it's for your safety and so you will no longer walk far from his own

he makes it very clear for everyone that you are untouchable

as your relationship progresses his actions became a little more... Intimate

you found his hand lingering with whatever skin he could find or brush his hands on it

he also has a thing with pressing your back to his chest

you would not resist fearing for his anger when he gets too close for your comfort then he breathes you in like a drug

he took a liking to showing you as you were his spouse by making you stand beside him at balls earning the stink eyes of the nobles and whispers

it would definitely reach to him and immediately that person is either dead or fallen from nobility

one of the mages bitterly expressed the obvious favoritism towards you and the next day they were found dead

you grew cold when you found out, it's no denying who's the cause behind the deaths that has been circulating

however you are not a fool and you kept your mouth shut despite the urgency to run away because you no longer felt safe

the emperor could sense your anxiety and he knew it's only a matter of time he has to make extreme actions to keep you by his side

despite your magic he is still smarter than you

you thoroughly made a plan on how to escape the capital and yet to no avail you found yourself cornered by his men

you used your magic against all of them defeating some but they did not relent and still decided to pursue you

you felt something hit you and you fell unconscious

when you wake up, you are in a extremely dark place only wearing a thin robe with shackles around your wrists and ankles making you immobilized

your struggle echos and soon the door opens with the emperor coming in with a dim expression on his face he sits infront of you and tries to brush your face but you turn away

you beg him to let you go and stop the madness but your begging only spurned him on

"you think you could run away from me my love? I am not the emperor for nothing dear. you should never underestimate me. ever. again." he says with a growl his expression almost looks manic

it scares you what he has turned into

he gets on top of you and you try to kick him away

"tsk tsk, stop being defiant now obey your emperor and submit. I will guarantee you everything you want if you obey me."

he places his hand around your throat to stop the flow of oxygen and slowly your movement ceased then he let go

he gets closer to your face and licks the tears streaming down your eyes, his hands untying the thin robe covering your body

your nakedness makes your vulnerability even worse as your stomach fills with dread with what is about to come

his hands rub and grope your skin making you nauseous with his actions

he breathes raggedly almost salivating at the thought of consuming you whole

you cry out more

"If you don't stop from being naughty, I guess I have to go with the rough way."

(Bonus Moon in Curse Mode(tm))