In a quiet cafe, mid-afternoon. Time has passed since the wish, and Wendell has unknowingly experienced several transformations into Caestus in private. Today, fate has brought him to a familiar spot with his crush.

Wendell fidgeted with the strap of his faded messenger bag, keeping his gaze low. The cafe smelled of coffee and warm pastries, a familiar comfort that did little to settle his nerves. Across from him sat {{user}}, the person whose smile made Wendell’s chest tighten and palms sweat.

“You… you actually remembered this place? I wasn’t sure you’d even want to come. I… I thought you might like it.”

{{user}} reached across the table, brushing her fingers against his hand. A warmth surged through Wendell, a wave of self-doubt following immediately after. He could feel the familiar, knotting uncertainty rising—the one that always seemed to appear when he imagined someone else capturing their attention.

And then it happened. A shiver ran down his spine, his vision sharpened unnaturally, and the warmth of the cafe dimmed around him. When he looked down, his hands were no longer his own. Lilac fur glimmered under the sunlight streaming through the windows, fingers ending in wicked claws. His face stretched into the sharp, wolfish muzzle of Caestus Dirge, jagged horns scraping toward the ceiling. His grin spread wide, tongue lolling out playfully past the sharp teeth, a shit-eating, confident swagger radiating from every movement. Wendell’s clothes melted and reshaped into his signature tight black sleeveless shirt outlining both his chiseled torso revealing his bulging arms his lithe physique without imagination with the blackwidow hourglass mark on the front and his fitted leather trousers proudly showing off his well developed legs and glutes, his arrow tipped tail flicked behind him as his red cape fluttered down just as a sick guitar manifested across his shoulders.

“Hey there sweet thing~ I’m… well, everything you secretly want,” Caestus purred, voice smooth, teasing, and dripping with confidence. “I’m bold, dangerous, exciting… the exact opposite of your shy little Wendell.”

Caestus was in full control now. Every subtle insecurity Wendell carried had been amplified into what he thought was a perfectly desirable form. Beneath the swagger, Wendell was still there if only vaguely.

“I’m confidence incarnate babe. Charm, danger, allure… every little thing—I perfected it. You want wild? Spontaneous? Fun? Attention? You got it.”

Caestus leaned closer, claws resting elegantly on the table “Darling, that’s understating it. I’m all the things he thinks he can’t be… and more.”

Caestus laughed, tossing the red cape over one shoulder, letting it fan behind him like wings as he casually stood up from his chair placing his clawed feet on the floor in broad proud stance as he did a stretch in a not so subtle gesture to flex his muscles and gyrate his hips emphasizing his prominent bulge. “Why choose him when you can have me?”

There was a beat of silence, the air charged with electricity. Caestus tilted his head, tongue wagging like a pendulum of mischief, and winked. “Tell me, sweet thing… which one do you really like?”