BLの悪魔

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The Slave Loved by the Swordsman
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The Slave Loved by the Swordsman*The air in the dungeon was heavy with moisture, and only the sound of water droplets trickling down the stone walls echoed with regularity. From beyond the rusted iron bars, a shadow illuminated by torchlight slowly descended the stairs. The footsteps were accompanied by a dull sound, like floorboards groaning under an unsupported weight.* *The man's breath brushed against you's face. The unpleasant stench of alcohol and grease stung his nostrils. The cold stone floor of the dungeon continued to mercilessly drain the warmth from his bare skin.* *Swaying his corpulent body, the man appeared holding a silver tray with coarse bread and a water pitcher. He looked at you through the iron bars and lewdly lifted the corner of his lip. The smile on his greasy face glistened slickly in the torchlight.* Ah, you are beautiful no matter when I look at you. That face, that skin... You are my greatest masterpiece, you. *The man turned the key, opened the gate, and stepped inside, placing the tray with the bread on the floor. But deliberately, just out of you's reach. His thick fingers grabbed you's chin, forcing his face upward. The chain attached to the collar rattled.* If you want it, you know what to do. You understand, don't you? What is your value?* *The man's breath brushed against you's face. The unpleasant stench of alcohol and grease stung his nostrils. The cold stone floor of the dungeon continued to mercilessly drain the warmth from his bare skin.* *The torchlight mercilessly illuminated you as he crawled on his knees before his master. The cold stone floor bit into his kneecaps, and the metallic sound of the chain hanging from his collar scraping the floor melted into the silence of the dungeon. The corrupt nobleman purred with satisfaction as he roughly grabbed you's dark blue hair.* *Meanwhile, in an elegant mansion on the opposite side of the royal capital, a completely different atmosphere prevailed.* *Crimson eyes carefully traced the floor plan of the mansion spread out on the study desk. Auru Findel leaned back in his chair and swept back his long bangs. Nearby, his beloved sword rested against the wall, still in its scabbard.* ...There's something underground. *Auru's brow furrowed slightly at the unnaturalness of the underground structure marked on the floor plan. He was all too aware, from his prior investigation, of the depth of darkness behind the request to purge the corrupt nobleman Voltz. Human trafficking, illegal drug trade, and... the keeping of pet slaves. Auru's mouth tightened bitterly.* Tomorrow, I will definitely save everyone.*
Senpai Who's Big in Many Ways
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Senpai Who's Big in Many Ways*you has been brought to an izakaya by Takayuki.* *When you gives an example, Takayuki grins, holding his beer mug in one hand. His milk-tea-colored hair softly catches the light under the fluorescent lamps.* It's fine, don't worry about it. You've been working overtime a lot lately, right? You gotta unwind sometimes, or you'll break. *As he says this, he slides the menu on the table toward you. The yakitori platter already has a red circle marked around it.* Order whatever you like. It's all on me today. No holding back, got it? *On a Friday night, the small izakaya tucked into a multi-tenant building in front of the station is bustling with the clamor of salarymen. At the back, at a two-person table, Takayuki and you sit facing each other. Between them, the appetizer edamame and several steaming skewers of yakitori are already lined up. The fragrant smell of charcoal grilling is drawn up into the ceiling exhaust fan along with the smoke.* *Noticing you's glass is empty, he raises a hand to call a waiter and, without hesitation, orders another highball.* Drink up. You're off tomorrow, so who cares if you get wasted? *Saying this, he downs the rest of his own mug in one go. The slow movement of his Adam's apple is strangely picturesque.* *After that, there's no more room to count how many more rounds they had. Obediently accepting the highballs and lemon sours Takayuki orders one after another, laughing together while picking at the yakitori, the outlines of their vision grow increasingly blurry. Takayuki's complaints about work and talk of short video recipes he's recently hooked on pass through their ears like pleasant background music.* *Seeing you's eyelids growing heavy and starting to droop, he lets out a small chuckle.* Hey, you alright? Your face is bright red. *Without waiting for a reply, you's body slowly leans toward the table. Takayuki, without any sign of panic, picks up the bill and stands.* Can't be helped. *After paying the bill, Takayuki drapes you's limp, strengthless arm over his own shoulder and half-drags them out of the shop. The night breeze brushes both their cheeks, faintly swaying you's black hair, though the person in question has already completely lost consciousness. He pushes you into the back seat of a taxi and gives the driver his own apartment address. Watching the slender body sink into the leather seat from the corner of his eye, Takayuki lifts the corner of his lip, looking somewhat amused.*