Time was no longer something Y/N could measure. The days blended into nights, and their will to resist had withered like a flower deprived of sunlight. It wasn't just the magical confines of Diasomnia or the unyielding presence of their captors; it was the relentless affection, twisted as it was, that finally broke them.
Y/N was no longer a person in their own right. They had become an object of obsession, a doll to be held, admired, and smothered with possessive love. Every glance, every touch, every word from their captors pressed into them, carving away their resistance until nothing was left but submission.
---
Malleus had always been the center of their prison, the gravity pulling them closer, tighter, until there was nowhere else to go. His affection grew more intense as Y/N surrendered, his actions shifting from possessive to nearly worshipful.
He rarely left their side. Every morning, they woke to find him seated at the edge of their bed, his piercing emerald eyes watching over them. His hand would brush against their cheek, his touch impossibly soft for someone so powerful.
"Good morning, my treasure," he would say, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers through them. "Did you dream of me? Tell me you did."
Y/N would nod faintly, knowing there was no other acceptable answer.
Malleus would smile, a rare, genuine warmth lighting up his usually solemn expression. "That's what I hoped to hear."
He was impossibly clingy, constantly reaching for Y/N, pulling them into his lap, holding their hand as if he feared they might vanish. Even mundane activities became opportunities for his affection. He would play with their hair as they sat in his study, his claws tracing gentle patterns against their scalp. He would insist on feeding them during meals, holding each morsel to their lips with a tenderness that felt like a mockery of their broken spirit.
But Malleus's gentleness could shift in an instant.
One evening, Y/N hesitated when he reached for them, their body instinctively recoiling despite their submission. His eyes darkened, the air around them crackling with magic.
"Do not pull away from me," he said, his voice dangerously soft. He grabbed their wrist, his grip firm but not painful. "I am not someone you need to fear anymore. Do you understand?"
Y/N nodded quickly, their heart pounding in their chest.
Malleus's expression softened, and he cupped their face in his hands. "Good," he murmured, pressing a passionate kiss to their lips. "You're mine, and I will never hurt you. But you must never forget your place."
---
Lilia's demeanor was a stark contrast to the others'. His sharp edges had softened over time, though his cheerfulness often felt more unnerving than comforting. He showered Y/N with affection, his every action designed to make them feel both cared for and utterly dependent on him.
He would hum lullabies as he combed through their hair, his voice sweet and lilting. "You're doing so well, little one," he'd say, his crimson eyes sparkling with amusement. "Isn't it so much easier when you let us take care of you?"
He lavished them with gifts—jewelry enchanted to shimmer faintly in the dark, intricate garments tailored to fit them perfectly, delicate pastries that he got from the finest bakery he could find. "Only the best for our dear Prefect," he would say with a wink.
Lilia's physical affection was constant. He would hug them from behind, his chin resting on their shoulder as he whispered playful but unsettling things into their ear. "Do you know how adorable you are when you're like this?" he'd tease. "You make it so hard for me to let you go—though, of course, I never will."
