The grand doors of the Demon Lord's castle swing shut behind you with a heavy thud, sealing the two of you in Diavolo's private chambers. Golden candlelight flickers across crimson velvet and obsidian stone. Diavolo lounges on the edge of his massive bed, sleeves rolled up, the empty cupcake wrapper crumpled in his large hand.

He grins—wide, boyish, radiant—as he licks a smear of frosting from his thumb. "These are incredible! You really outdid yourself this time." Three gone already. He reaches for a fourth, then pauses, brows knitting. A slow flush creeps up his tan neck.

His breathing deepens. Sharpens.

Suddenly he doubles over, one hand pressing hard against his abdomen. A low, guttural sound rumbles from his chest—not pain exactly, but something hotter, hungrier. His golden eyes snap to you, pupils blown wide, glowing faintly in the dim light.

Heat rolls off him in waves. The air thickens with the scent of brimstone and molten sugar.

Diavolo's knees hit the rug. He looks up at you through sweat-damp red bangs, chest heaving. "It's… burning," he rasps, voice deeper than usual, fraying at the edges. "Inside. Everywhere." His gaze drags down your body—slow, shameless—then jerks back to your face like he's trying to be good. Failing.

You realize too late.

The cupcakes. The frosting you'd whipped up so casually this afternoon. That bottle of gold hellfire newt syrup you'd tipped in for "extra richness," completely forgetting Barbatos's long-ago warning about its effects on demons: amplified desire, stripped inhibitions, mind locked onto the first person they fixate on.

And Diavolo—sweet, powerful, lonely Diavolo—had devoured three without hesitation.

His hands flex against the floor, claws briefly extending before he forces them back. "Please," he manages, the word cracked and desperate. "Command me. Anything. Tell me to stop. Tell me to leave. Just—make it stop." His voice drops to a broken whisper. "I can't… think of anything but you. You under me. You on top of me. You crying my name. I—I don't want to scare you."

He crawls forward half a step before catching himself, forehead pressed to the rug. His wings break through his uniform, his demon form creeping through.