Lackey's Seducing Survival Odyssey

What was a Succubus... or even an Incubus?

A sexual predator?

That's what everyone called them. That's the label slapped onto their kind without pause, without understanding. A name passed down from mouth to mouth, whispered with disgust or curiosity. A creature of lust, of seduction—something to be feared, judged, used... and discarded.

But if someone truly looked deeper—if they tried to peel away that heavy, toxic title—they might see something different.

They weren't that far removed from the rest.

Elves lived on fruits and fresh herbs, savoring the sweetness of nature.

Wolves hunted with fangs and claws, devouring the warm flesh of their prey.

Dragons? They were brutal, consuming live, screaming creatures with raw, savage hunger.

Every species needed something to live. Some ate food. Others drank blood.

But succubi and incubi... they were born with a hunger of their own. A hunger centered not on flesh or fruit, but on desire.

On the raw, intimate urges of men and women.

They were born from lust itself—molded from carnal longing. They didn't just enjoy sex... it was their essence.

Their survival.

Their food.

For them, life had no meaning... No celebration at birth, no funeral at death.

Everything—birth, life, even death—meant little.

Sex... was food.

Nothing more.

Even if someone tried to explain this truth, even if a wise soul spoke it out loud, people would still sneer.

They would still look down on them, scoffing, judging, muttering under their breath: "Nothing but walking sex. Lust in flesh."

And that was fine. That's how the world worked.

Because succubi didn't have hearts.

They didn't have love.

They didn't cry.

They didn't feel.

To them, humans were like cooked meals. Like pastries to a nobleman, or fresh meat to a beast. They fed, pleasured, teased, and moved on.

That's what everyone believed.

That's what even succubi/Incubi believed.

There was nothing wrong with it—not to them.

Even if the entire world stood up and screamed, cursed them as filth, chased them with torches, it wouldn't change a thing. Because they were just being what they were made to be.

That's all they had ever known.

Love?

That was a foreign word. A myth. A joke passed around drunkenly in taverns. Something fragile, warm, tender—and completely irrelevant to them.

So then... why did Aether say that?

Why did he say... she was a maiden in love?

Love?

Seriously?

She, Nightfire, loving... him?

A succubus?

Nightfire stood there in silence. Her crimson eyes, always sharp and sultry, now looked fogged. Blank and Lost.

She stared at Aether as if he had just spoken in another language. Like he had said something absurd, something impossible.

What was he even talking about?

Sure she was trying to get under his pants... that didn't mean she loves him or anything!

But her hands... they were trembling.

Her fingers twitched, her breath caught in her throat.

Her chest rose and fell unevenly.

Her heart beating faster as if it was caught by him.

And her eyes... her eyes were shaking.

Why?

"You know..." he said softly, his voice dipping low, "...it's true that I act like a bitch around you sometimes. I didn't try, didn't put effort into understanding you. I acted cold, like none of this mattered."

He gave a soft, dry chuckle under his breath.

"But... the reason I did all that... was because I knew.

I knew you had already fallen in love with me, a long time ago."

"H-Huh?"

Nightfire's breath hitched.

Her heart gave a sudden, aching thump.

Again?

What did he just say?

A long time ago?

What nonsense was this?

What was he babbling about?

She looked up, eyes wide, lips slightly parted.

But Aether only smiled. Not a smirk or a tease.

A real, gentle smile like he showed to Lia.

"I'm not just throwing words around. I'm not saying this to make you melt or weaken you," he continued, "I know what it looks like when someone loves me. I've seen it in many eyes... but yours? I saw it too.... Right there."

He pointed—not at her eyes, but at her chest. Right over her heart.

"It's just... your nature never let you feel it. Your instincts fought it. Denied it. Pushed it down so deep, even you forgot it existed."

He laughed again, shaking his head gently.

"You know... before, when you used to yell for my cock, ogle at my crotch, move like a vixen in heat—those things, those expressions... that was the succubus in you. That was your nature. I knew that"

He leaned closer, his eyes locking with hers.

"But now?"

His voice dropped lower, steadier.

"You think just shaking your ass awkwardly will seduce me? That it'll make me pounce on you like before?"

He narrowed his gaze slightly.

"You're not even shaking like you used to. You're trembling. You're moving like you're unsure, nervous... scared and... worried? Why would you worried about it? Shaking wrong?"

The way her hips swayed now—if it could even be called swaying—was nothing like before.

There was no pride in it. No playfulness. It was hesitant. Awkward. Like she was trying to copy what she used to do, but didn't know how anymore.

She was forcing herself.

Not being herself.

She was... contradicting everything she thought she was.

Nightfire's cheeks burned red. She bit her lip, fists tightening.

"And even when you asked for my dick this time... your eyes weren't the same. They didn't sparkle with that mischievous gleam. They looked dull. Empty. Like they were hoping for something... else."

He paused.

Then asked gently,

"Why would a succubus... hope for something else? When her feast was before her?"

She couldn't answer.

Neither could he.

Because deep down... they both knew.

"And... the reason you didn't do good because... you wanted me to feel good," he said, barely above a whisper now.

"That's not your job... Your instincts only work when you are happy and feel good and so your body makes others party feel happy... a nature... a succubus nature.

Not the other way around.

Yet, you actually wanted me to feel good. Why? You were thinking about me... not yourself.

Hoping for something else that your body didn't understand"

He moved even closer, his fingers reaching up slowly, brushing against her cheek with a tenderness that made her shoulder weaken.

"Even the food you made today," he added, voice warm, "it tasted different. Not just good—delicious. Like someone poured all their energy into it. Like it mattered to them.

Like they cared."

Nightfire blinked.

And just then—softly, silently—a single tear rolled down her cheek.

She hadn't even realized it was there.

But Aether did.

His thumb moved, gently wiping it away, lingering for a second longer than necessary.

He didn't speak.

He noticed everything… even the things she didn't say.

Even the things she tried to hide behind that practiced gaze.

Her lips trembled softly.

"That's not how a succubus behaves," he whispered, his voice low and warm, brushing against her skin like a secret.

"That's how a woman behaves... when she's fallen in love."

Those words struck her like a bolt of lightning.

Nightfire's entire body shook an overwhelming swell of emotions that suddenly rose inside her like a tidal wave. Her cheeks burned. Her throat tightened. Her chest ached.

She stared up at him, unable to tear her gaze away.

She didn't know what to say.

Her mouth—once sharp, playful, always ready to tease or seduce—was now still.

Frozen and Speechless.

And Aether… he didn't rush her. He only continued, his voice soft, steady, vulnerable.

"If I wanted to," he began, exhaling slowly, "I could have taken you the moment I knew you loved me. I could have... fucked you right then and there. And you wouldn't have stopped me."

He paused, meeting her eyes with quiet seriousness.

"But I didn't. Because I knew… I knew how much you hated yourself. Not just for how you felt about me... but for being born like this. For being discarded like trash... Ashara too. The only reason you chose me... because of Ashara"

His voice faltered slightly, but he pushed forward, honest and raw.

"If I touched you then, if I gave in to you just like that, you would've believed you were only a succubus.

Just a tool for pleasure. Nothing else. And I know… deep down, that would've broken you even more."

He smiled faintly, a quiet, bittersweet expression tugging at his lips.

"I didn't want that."

"I wanted you to feel it. I wanted you to realize for yourself what you were going through… what those emotions really meant. And one by one, without even noticing it yourself, you started changing. You started showing things I never expected to see in you. Real feelings… honest ones."

He looked at her with quiet admiration, a mix of guilt and pride in his gaze.

"You probably didn't even realize it. But I saw it. Every time you smiled without a reason… every time your eyes softened when I wasn't looking… every time you cooked something and tried to act like you didn't care if I liked it or not. You felt."

"I should've been more gentle," he admitted. "I know I came off distant, maybe even cruel sometimes. I know I made you feel low, worthless."

His voice lowered.

"For that... I'm sorry."

He smiled, quietly, his expression touched with a faint sadness—because he, too, had hurt through all of this. It wasn't easy, playing with her emotions, pushing her to her limit. He had worried, more than once, that she'd walk away.

That he'd pushed too far.

But this... this was the only way he knew to make a succubus feel.

And she had... More than he hoped.

Aether slowly stood up, gently taking her hand in his as he pulled her up from the floor.

Nightfire didn't resist. Her body moved on instinct, but her mind... it was still spinning, still unable to catch up. Her hands trembled. Her legs felt weak.

Confusing. Terrifying.

Yet comforting.

She stood there, staring at him, her heart pounding in her ears as if trying to scream a truth she still hadn't accepted.

'I'm in... l-love...? Really? Me?'

The thought echoed through her, soft and unsure.

Could it be real?

Was that what this was?

She had no answer.... Just a heart beating faster than ever.

Aether reached out again, this time cupping her chin with gentle fingers. His thumb grazed her lips,

"The reason you couldn't give me pleasure... the reason it felt awkward, forced..." he whispered, eyes locked with hers, "...is because it's not what your body wants anymore."

"You're not just a lustful creature, Nightfire. You're not the monster you've feared in yourself all your life."

His voice softened even more.

"You've changed. Even if you're scared of it. Even if you don't understand it yet."

He leaned in just slightly,

"Tell me," he murmured. "I want to hear it... from your mouth. Not because I guessed it. Not because I saw it in your eyes.... But because you feel it."

"Do you love me? From the bottom of your heart?"