Reborn as a Succubus: Time To Live My Best Life!

{Armia}

Armia sat at the garden, still lingering in Javir's house. Her golden scales caught the afternoon sunlight as she stretched her legs out in front of her, eyes fixed on the sky above.

The darian girl shifted, wincing slightly. Her ass still ached from Isabella's thorough plowing earlier.

She was both aroused and embarrassed just thinking about it.

[Fuck, that little... she really did a number on me,] Armia thought, her hand unconsciously rubbing her lower back. [Her dick isn't even that long. What the fuck?]

Armia scoffed. It was strange. The grief for her brother still sat heavy in her chest, a dull, constant ache. But Isabella's unexpected visit had... not erased it, exactly, but pushed it to the background for a while.

Not just Isabella's, but Melisa's as well.

[I guess it's hard to think about reality when you have a nim's tongue on your cock or a kitsune's dick in your ass.]

Armia snorted at the thought.

[So that's it? That's my coping mechanism now? Getting fucked senseless?]

The sound of footsteps pulled her from her musings. Armia looked up to see Margaret Blackflame approaching, her purple skin practically glowing in the sunlight, hips swaying rhythmically.

Their eyes met, and Armia found herself smiling despite her melancholy. There was something naturally comforting about Margaret. Not her natural pheromones, no. Armia spent so much time around Melisa that she could tell the difference.

"Mind if I join you?" Margaret asked, gesturing to the space beside Armia.

Armia shifted, making room on the bench.

"Not at all. Please."

As Margaret settled beside her, Armia couldn't help but notice the way the older woman's tits strained against her blouse. She quickly averted her gaze, heat rising to her cheeks.

[Fuck's sake, Armia. Get it together. You just got railed by Isabella, and now you're ogling Melisa's mom?]

She was reminded of how sore her own dick was as it twitched when she looked at the older woman.

"So," Margaret began, her voice low and melodious. "How's your day been, dear?"

Armia shrugged, her massive shoulders rising and falling like mountains.

"I haven't really done anything," she admitted. "Just... sitting here, I guess."

Margaret hummed thoughtfully, her red eyes studying Armia's face.

"Sometimes, doing nothing is exactly what we need," she said softly. "Especially after... well, you know."

Armia nodded, a lump forming in her throat. She swallowed hard, pushing back the tears that threatened to fall.

"Yeah," she managed, her voice rough. "I just... I don't know what to do with myself, you know?"

Margaret reached out, placing a comforting hand on Armia's thigh. The touch sent a jolt through the darian, and she had to resist the urge to lean into it.

"Try not to take too long in going back to class," Margaret said gently. "Sometimes, a routine can help. Give us a sense of normalcy, you know?"

Before Armia could respond, a blur of purple shot past them. Hazel, Melisa's younger sister, darted around the garden, her tiny hands reaching out to catch the butterflies that fluttered just beyond her grasp.

Armia watched the young nim girl, a small smile tugging at her lips.

"Not yet," she said, turning back to Margaret. "I don't think I wanna go back yet. But, I'll come back in a few days."

Margaret nodded, understanding in her eyes.

"Wonderful. Take all the time you need in the meantime."

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, watching Hazel's antics. The young girl's laughter echoed through the garden. Discover stories with My Virtual Library Empire

Suddenly, Margaret straightened, a gleam in her eye that made Armia's heart skip a beat.

"I have an idea," the older woman said, standing up and placing her hands on her hips. She struck a pose that wouldn't have looked out of place on the cover of an adventure novel, her chest thrust forward, her chin raised high. "How about you show me some more magic?"

Armia blinked, taken aback by the sudden change in Margaret's demeanor. Then, she felt a grin spreading across her face.

"Oh? You're not going to yelp every time fire comes out of your hand again, are you?" she teased, raising an eyebrow.

Margaret huffed, her cheeks darkening with a blush.

"That was one time," she protested. "And in my defense, I wasn't expecting magic to be so... flashy."

Armia chuckled, the sound rumbling deep in her chest.

"Alright then, Mrs. Blackflame. Show me what you've got."

---

{Jaylin}

Jaylin trudged up the path to Javir's manor, her shoes scuffing against the gravel.

The afternoon sun beat down on her back, making her uniform stick to her skin. She'd half expected the place to be in chaos, what with all the newcomers crashing there, but instead, it was almost eerily quiet.

As she walked inside, she caught sight of something that made her stop dead in her tracks.

That muscle-bound darian chick, Armia, was out in the garden with Margaret. And they weren't just chatting - no, Armia was showing off, conjuring up little wisps of flame that danced around her fingers.

[What the fuck?] Jaylin thought, her eyes narrowing. [Since when does Margaret give a shit about magic?]

She watched as Margaret clapped her hands in delight, her massive tits bouncing with the movement. Jaylin's throat went dry, and she swallowed hard, trying to ignore the heat rising in her cheeks.

A memory bubbled up. Margaret, padding softly into the garden, a steaming cup of tea in her hands.

"You're working too hard, dear," she'd say, her voice warm and full of concern. "Take a break. Drink this."

Jaylin's jaw clenched. It was... fine. Just fine. Nothing special. So what if Margaret cared enough to check on her? So what if the tea was always perfectly brewed, with just the right amount of honey?

[It doesn't mean anything,] she told herself fiercely. [She was just being nice. That's all.]

But watching Margaret laugh at something Armia said, a little too loudly, a little too freely, made something twist in Jaylin's gut.

She tore her gaze away, stomping into the hall to the right.

The interior was cool and dark, a welcome relief from the oppressive heat outside. Jaylin made her way up the stairs, her footsteps echoing in the empty hallway. She paused outside her mother's room, her hand hovering over the doorknob.

[Do I even want to bother?] she wondered. But habit won out, and she pushed the door open.

The stale air hit her like a slap to the face. The curtains were drawn, casting the room in a perpetual twilight. And there, in the center of it all, was her mother. Javir's sister. The woman who was supposed to raise her.

She lay sprawled across the bed, her nightgown riding up to reveal pale, skinny legs. An empty wine bottle sat on the nightstand, a silent testament to another day wasted.

"Oh, Jaylin," her mother slurred, pushing herself up on her elbows. Her hair was a rat's nest, her eyes unfocused. "You're home. How was... how was school?"

Jaylin's lips pressed into a thin line.

"Fine," she bit out. "Just fine."

Her mother nodded, as if this was the most fascinating news she'd ever heard.

"That's good, that's good. You know, I was thinking... maybe tomorrow we could..."

But Jaylin had already tuned her out, her attention drawn back to the window. They never really did anything Jaylin's mom suggested. Over these last eight years, she'd become, by all intents and purposes, a deadbeat that Jaylin refused to kick out.

Plus, from here, she had a perfect view of the garden. Of Margaret and Armia.

She watched as Armia attempted to guide Margaret's hands through some clumsy approximation of a spell. Fire sputtered and died between their fingers, and they both burst into laughter.

[Pathetic,] Jaylin thought, her lip curling in disgust. [That overgrown lizard couldn't teach her way out of a paper bag.]

"...Jaylin? Are you listening?"

She blinked, turning back to her mother.

"Sorry, what?"

Her mother sighed, flopping back onto the pillows.

"Never mind. It wasn't important."

[It never is,] Jaylin thought bitterly. She mumbled some excuse and backed out of the room.

Back in the hallway, Jaylin leaned against the wall, her heart pounding. She could still hear Margaret's laughter floating up from the garden, light and carefree.

[Fuck this,] she decided, pushing off the wall. [If Margaret wants to learn magic, I'll show her how it's really done.]

She stormed down the stairs, a determined set to her jaw. As she stepped out into the garden, she saw Margaret turn, surprise written across her face.

"Oh, Jaylin!" Margaret called out, waving. "You're home! Come join us, dear. Armia's been showing me the most fascinating things."

Jaylin plastered on a smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"Actually, Mrs. Blackflame, I was wondering if I could show you a few tricks of my own. If you're interested, that is."

Margaret's eyes lit up, and Jaylin felt a rush of... something. Pride? Satisfaction? She wasn't sure, but it made her stand a little straighter.

"I'd love that, dear."