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zosan-secondchances · 5 months ago

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The Pirate King of the North

Main Themes: Villain Sanji, Alternate Universe, Zosan Ship

AU old Sanji hails from a reality where Reiju didn't have emotions.

Warning: Long post ahead and some One Piece spoilers. Contains strong language and explicit content.

Part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 (Special) | 19 | 20 | 21

Young Zoro hates the fucker but those scars and piercings are doing a number to his soul.

Old Sanji's story goes like this:

He didn't experience compassion from anyone else aside from his mother, who--you know what happened.

Judge kept him locked away until he was 13. He had him released when he was deemed too broken to do anything, and he was apparently a waste of space. As far as the world was concerned, he was already dead. He gets left behind at some random pirate town in the North.

His swirly brows were recognized by the pirates who took him in--only for him to be enslaved because people would pay a lot to have their way with royalty.

He picked up some skills from the other slaves and became cunning af--because he had to be.

At 17 he started a revolt against the slaver pirates, effectively taking over as their new pirate captain.

He became the feared "Mr. Prince" and his words are as sharp as his bite.

He's underweight because he doesn't give two shits about good food.

"The All Blue? It's nothing but an old fishwive's tale," he says.

He used his cunning mind and new pirate crew to hunt down and kill his own father from the shadows.

He enslaved his own siblings and becomes the new ruler of Germa Kingdom. Over the years, he used them for warfare and expanded the territory of the North.

His heart is a bottomless pit for power and control.

He had a fling or two or several with is closely allied with Doflamingo because god damn they're both mad like that. The alliance eventually lead to direct connections with Celestial Dragons.

Sanji gains more power and becomes the notorious "Pirate King of the North"

Meanwhile at the other side of the world, Luffy didn't make it as far as he could have without a good cook.

Luffy would have recruited one from Baratie but the restaurant was absolutely destroyed before the smaller Straw Hat crew could make a difference. Some of the staff didn't make it.

Zoro left the crew when it fell apart at some point.

Due to Zoro's reputation and bounty that he had occurred during his limited time with Luffy, he was offered a position as a Warlord, ultimately taking over the late Jinbe's old role. He accepted and served for several years before he was assigned a job that he didn't know would be the most challenging one yet.

The Celestial Dragons didn't like the fact that Sanji had started to have more worldly control over their own, so Zoro was quietly assigned to hunt down the great Pirate King of the North. Zoro accepted because he felt that he needed more experience before he could take on Mihawk again.

Zoro quickly realised that this mission is not a walk in the park.

Sanji loves toying with the Demon Warlord so he insists on taking him on by himself.

It becomes an endless game of cat and mouse. Sometimes Sanji chases and sometimes he runs, sometimes he wins and sometimes he loses.

They're at each others' throats everywhere in the world. Any person, city or being of any kind that gets in the way usually gets torn apart in the chaos. The hunt goes on for a lifetime. They're currently in their 40's.

Zoro severs Sanji's left arm during one huge fight.

Because of this, Sanji relentlessly tries to get Zoro to marry him to use him in so many ways he can think of--both as an asset and under the sheets--oh the things that he wants the swordsman to do and beg for.

Sanji likes to refer to the tiniest scar on his lip as "Zoro's love bite"

He was about to get a nice fresh one on his chest when some fuckers teleported him away.

Hearing old Sanji's backstory was a bit much. It was young Zoro's turn to have a nosebleed that day.

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Oh yes I had fun drawing old silver fox, damaged Sanji. I wish I have the time to colour it up. I've also been very much into reading AU stories, especially soul brand ones. Keep them coming, you beautiful people.

Edit: Woo! I finally decided to make my own AO3 account. It's about time. Link here for the story: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60686077

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quarterlifekitty · 1 month ago

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if devils were real (they'd be in the military)

john price/succubus!reader a little bit of a backstory as I try to expand this post into a little series part 2

There are two ideal victims for a succubus: virgins and divorcees. John is one of the latter, and ideal for many other reasons besides. He's married to his career— his extensive time away makes it difficult to maintain relationships. Impractical, he says.

The best part of all? He's an honorable man. Which is just another way to say that he's been fighting his temptations and human nature longer and harder than he should. The unused sexual energy comes off of him in staggering waves, as a result. It's imbued in everything he does. You could probably live off of shaking his hand if you really had to.

All in all, you're happy you found him. He's a quality meal ticket. Not an ideal career— he could expire at a moment's notice, but that's often the tradeoff when it comes it nutrition for your kind.

Price is a bit of an odd last name, isn't it? They say a lot of last names in Europe just go back to the vocation of your ancestors— Smith, Tailor, Cooper. But what could Price be?

John didn't know the real answer to that, but his grandmother told him (very much against his mother's wishes) that it refered to the price of a soul when someone made a deal with a demon. That her own great-great-great grandfather fell in love with a devil, and she fell in return, and had a great big family— thirteen kids of their own. Just after he was put to bed, he'd hear his mum scolding her for telling him tales like that, but the damage was done. And she kept telling more and more— about demons, devils, the circles in the kingdoms of hell, the Malebranche keeping corrupt politicians under boiling pitch, the ukoback's fried foods and fireworks, that the thunder he heard during storms was the booming voice of Duke Amdusias—

And the conniving, pitiable succubi and incubi. Lesser demons that could visit him in his dreams as his greatest desire, all to steal his energy— his lifeforce.

His mother was especially irate after that particular tale.

From the first moment smelled your pheromones drifting into the air, he knew what you were. He knew that you would take what you wanted, and he would remember this as only a sensual dream after you flew back into the night from whence you came. And he let you. Welcomed it, in fact. Reveled in your scent building in the air as you practiced your craft, bringing him to climax again and again.

You yourself did some rather masterful acting, but he could tell you never came. Never mix work and pleasure, right? You wouldn't want to look unkempt, or god forbid, vulnerable while you extracted your meal from him.

Don't worry, darl', he thinks to himself, I'm keeping track.

#writing #cod fanfic #cod #john price #john price x reader #succbus reader

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caffeinewitchcraft · 10 months ago

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The Hero and Hope (5/5)

(Part 1) (Part 2) (part 3) (part 4)

Last Time

The crack under the door lights with a sickly purple. The smell of ozone seeps into the manor. For a moment there is a silence so complete you think you’ve been struck. What was that? Magic? You’ve never seen magic before--

Screams rocket across the field. The Blacksmith’s screams. The Baker’s screams. Marie’s rage-filled howls.

“DEMON KING!”

Your Destiny burns.

---.

You have dreams the closer you get to turning fifteen. Dreams of a kingdom in the sky, a kingdom heard in the roiling clouds and in the cracks of lightning that splinter through them. This kingdom howls and chatters and hungers.

You dream that you are under these clouds. Your necks aches from staring up into them. You’re alone in a field of dead wheat and the stalks whisper prophecies whenever the kingdom above falls silent. Rivers will run with blood, flesh will lay torn across the streets, no child can hide—

In these dreams, you aren’t afraid. There is an answering snarl in your chest for every howl and prophecy you hear.

You won’t have your way. You won’t win.

I’m the Hero.

When the storm sends down a funnel of demon bats (or horned rabbits or screaming goblins or demon wolves), you leap to meet them.

------.

This isn’t a dream.

Your hands slide down from the door. Hera and Josiah are frozen in place, eyes wide and unseeing as the demon king’s presence steals the oxygen from the room. You take a step back. Then another.

All doors and windows are blocked on this level. But this manor has more than one floor.

The fighting resumes outside before Sarah realizes what you’re doing.

“Isla!” She has the strength of a mother when she grabs you this time. Your nearly choke as your collar is pulled taught against your throat by her grip on your sleeve. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“To fight,” you wheeze before you can think better of it.

“Absolutely not.” Sarah attempts to pull you back, but you’re braced against her now. She grabs your sleeve with both hands. “The knights have it handled—”

“Not this—”

“—you’re to stay here.” Sarah’s lip trembles and she squares her jaw to hide it. The younger kids are holding onto her skirts, eyes wide as they stare up at you. “Understood?”

Afraid. She’s so afraid for you, so determined to keep you safe this time. You can see that winter seven years ago like you never have before; when you held the door and lost your hope in heroes, she never once looked away from your narrow back.

You have never been alone.

“Take care,” you say as gently as you can. Then, as she draws breath to speak, you rip yourself from her grasp. Your sleeve tears and Sarah’s eyes fall to your arm.

She gasps. “Isla—”

You shoulder your way through the villagers and thunder upstairs. The grand staircase leads to a hall of doors and you throw open the one at the end indiscriminately. You get the impression of books, leather furniture, a black feather quill, but it all blurs when your eyes fall on the door leading to the balcony.

That will do.

You burst out into unrelenting sunlight. Shouldn’t it be storming? In your dreams, it’s always storming. The garden is a mess of turned earth and splintered party tables. The knights’ armor flash rays of sun and the orcs – great, fleshy beasts with hardly any neck and black-sclera eyes – undulate like mountains below. You can see that some orcs are down, their giant bodies strewn across the ground, but it hardly seems to make a difference.

Not when there’s a Demon King.

You climb up onto the railing to get a better look. He’s half-hidden by the fighting, almost lounging against the treeline. He’s more human than you expected with dark, shaggy hair, and a bored look on his face. Canines the length of your index finger poke over his thin lower lip. Without the fangs, he’d be a traveling merchant, one of the ones who turned up their nose when they realized that the home they were visiting was an orphanage and not that of an affluent family.

As you watch, that sickly purple magic crackles at his fingertips. You follow his gaze to where Ivan and Marie are fighting back-to-back. The Lord is standing defiantly behind them, his horse slain mere yards away. The Lord is staring a challenge at the Demon King.

This is my land. You can see his mouth form the words, but can’t hear him over the clashing of swords and the twanging of Marie’s bow. Did he lose his voice? His exhaustion drags at his face, just visible under his fury. Green power seeps from him and into the ground as he emphasizes his Lord’s claim. You won’t have it.

The Demon King smirks. His hand twitches and purple magic soars into the sky. It arcs over the orcs’ heads, ten feet, fifteen feet, ten feet, five feet—

Ivan catches the bolt on his shield, a cry leaving his lips as the magic splashes around the edges and tears at his skin. You can smell burning flesh and ozone. Ivan falls to one knee and Marie snarls as she blocks an orc’s blow with the curve of her bow. She manages to kick the beast away, but her distraction costs her. This time Lord Brennan has to block the orc swinging a mace down upon their heads. His connection to the land wavers and the Demon King’s smirk widens into a smile.

Something in your chest cracks and you see gold.

Your destiny is like a flame on your shoulder. It drips down your arm and into your hand. Golden light is burning there and with a barely a thought, it takes the form of a spear. You hoist the spear over your shoulder and hurl it with your full strength at the ground between the orcs advancing on Marie, Ivan and Lord Brennan.

The ground shatters. The orcs are thrown back. Marie, already kneeling at Ivan’s side, jerks her gaze up to you. You see her mouth form your name.

The Demon King is as loud as he is in your dreams. “HERO!”

The word alone strikes fear in the orcs. Stupidly, a few look up at you and fail to block the next blows from the knights. One squeals and turns to the forest. You barely notice the knights chase after it.

“Isla?”

“Don’t—”

“Go back inside, his magic is too--!”

The Demon King hisses a spell. It’s fast, not the slow and contemptuous arc of power he’d thrown at the lord. Without thinking, you swipe your arm. It’s still drenched with the golden glow of your power and the air rings when the Demon King’s spell connects. You feel the blow vibrate through your bones. The magic crackles and your own power rises to meet it, filling your view with sun-bright light that washes over everything.

When the light clears, you’re still standing.

“Impossible,” the demon king says.

On instinct, you lift a hand above your head. Something presses against your palm and you grab it, drawing it down in front of you. A sword drenched in a golden haze follows. Hero’s sword. You point it at the demon king in a silent declaration. Your destiny is choking you, but your message is clear.

His lips curl in a snarl. “Attack!”

You leap down from the balcony as the demon king’s army surges. An orc charges you the moment you land, his eyes filled with the demon king’s command. He towers over you, but you’re strong enough to haul a half dozen fence posts on your own. You catch the club he swings at your head and launch him back in the same motion. He falls back a dozen steps and you follow him, slashing at his throat with your sword of light.

You’re on to the next monster before his body hits the ground.

You are new to your power, but you aren’t alone. Knights scream their second wind and fall on the monsters’ backs when their master’s command stupidly makes them turn away. A corner of your mind shrinks at the smell of blood and worse, at the sight of bodies under your feet, at the sound of armor crunching under heavy blows, but your power blocks it out. You move through the battlefield with an overwhelming, single-minded purpose.

Demon King.

“Don’t understand—”

Who is that? Your senses tell you it’s not an enemy. You duck when an orc swings a meaty fist at your head and then blink when someone severs its arm before you can.

“It’s okay, Isla,” someone says. “We’re here.”

“--she’s fourteen—”

“Argue about it later, protect her now.”

“Right.”

The Demon King isn’t relaxed when you see him next. His lips are pulled back so far you can see all his teeth. He’s commanding his monsters to stop you, to kill you, to put their bodies between you and him. One orc is bigger than the rest, a vibrant red instead of fleshy pink. It plants itself squarely in front of its master and raises a mace the length of your body.

Your power won’t let you falter, but your mind balks. Can you catch that? Block it? Those spikes are as long as your arm—

An arrow sprouts from the orc’s throat. It blinks stupidly and the purple haze clears from its eyes. Another arrow finds its mark in said eye and the beast steps back hesitantly as if unsure if its okay or not. The third arrow lets it know it’s not.

“Keep your sword tip up, Isla.”

“You’re training her now?”

“On your left, Marie!”

The Demon King must be cocky because he doesn’t try to run until it’s too late. The orc falls and his eyes widen in surprise to see you still coming for him. You’re close enough to see the color of them now, a red as deep and terrible as what’s drenching your hand.

Purple magic crackles. It’s not a spell – he’s too afraid for that – but the destructive power is unreal. The earth splinters to either side of you, causing your allies to falter for a moment. You deflect the bolt aimed for you and it explodes overhead like fireworks.

“No,” the Demon King breathes. He stumbles back and tries to ward you off with hands drenched in power. “No, I do not fall here! I am King! I am ultimate! I am—”

You throw your sword. You never really learned how to use one and this motion is more natural. For a moment, you see your Hero’s sword like your sharpened stick, sailing into the throat of a horned rabbit. Then you blink and it’s the Demon King with your sword through his meck. Blood bubbles at the corners of his mouth. One of his long-nailed hands comes up to try and grab the hilt. You’ve pierced him through.

The Demon King falls like his orcs. Confused and unsure of his own demise.

You come back to yourself the moment you feel his power die. There’s crashing through the woods as the remaining four orcs turn to flee. Absently, you mark their paths.

If the knights don’t get them, you will.

The details of the battle filter back to you gradually, like the sound returning to a forest after a rockslide. The memories of each blow you dealt tremble up your arms and the smell of one orc’s fetid breath makes you suck in a breath. That of course drags new horrible smells into your lungs and you cough so hard you gag.

A warm hand pats your back. “There, there,” Ivan says. He sounds tired. “The first one is always rough. Vomiting is okay.”

Marie grabs your hand before you can rub your face. “Don’t touch your eyes. Orc blood is corrosive.”

You twist, blinking tears out of your vision. You tremble as the memory of battle becomes fresher and fresher. You croak, “I’m an orphan, you know.”

Ivan looks taken aback. Then understanding washes over his face. “We’re acting like your parents, aren’t we? We were going to ask you after the party.”

The nausea temporarily subsides. “What?”

“She’s in shock,” Marie scolds Ivan. She fishes a clean handkerchief out of her bodice and uses it to dab under your eyes. “We want to adopt you, Isla. If you’ll have us as parents?”

You stare at them. “I—” you clear your throat. “I just meant we don’t actually know when my birthday is. Because I’m an orphan. I might be fifteen after all.’

“Oh.” Ivan opens his mouth. Closes it. “Well, do you be our daughter anyway?”

“More than anything,” you say and then vomit right onto the demon king’s corpse.

---------.

Things are both complicated and not after that.

The questions you thought were coming never get asked. Sarah isn’t upset you hid your Destiny from her and neither are any of the kids. They’re just relieved you’re alive.

Hera buries her face in your stomach before dinner that night. The Bahrs have invited you all to stay over until the last of the orcs are caught. Hera smells like their bath oils when she says, “I held the door, Isla. Nobody got in.”

There’s a lump in your throat as you pet her damp hair. “You did. You were very brave.”

“I helped,” Josiah says. Unlike Hera, he eyes your arm from a distance. Your mark is covered in a fresh cotton shirt, but it’s like he can see it anyway. Finally he collapses into you. “It’s not fair. You’re our Hero. Now you’re going to have be everyone’s.”

You lean down to press a kiss into his hair. “I’m too mean to be everyone’s Hero. I’ll just be yours, okay?”

“Good,” Josiah says. Then, after a long moment. “Though you should be nicer to us now.”

“No,” you say fondly.

The complicated part comes when the Bahrs enter the dining room after Sarah has gotten you all seated.

Ivan’s arm is in a sling, but he smiles widely when he sees the spread Josiah, Annie and Sarah have cooked up. He compliments them on their efforts, thanks them, and takes a seat at the head of the table.

Marie pauses by you before she takes her seat. She lingers by your chair until you turn to look at her. “Isla.”

You swallow. “Marie.”

Is it just you or is Marie as nervous as you are?

“Would you…sit by me?” she asks. Her eyes flick to the seat just to the right of her side of the table. You may not be a noble, but you know what that seat means.

Your voice wavers. You’re suddenly very conscious of the kids looking at you, of the way Sarah’s pressed a hand to her mouth. In surprise? To hide her pleasure? “If—if I can?”

“Yes,” Marie says quickly. “Yes, if you don’t mind, I mean, if you’re able to be drawn away—”

Lord Brennan throws open the dining room doors with an astonishing crash. He isn’t dressed for company and his long sleeping robe is drenched with the water still dripping from his hair. “I am starving. Is there—” He catches sight of the table and his mouth drops open in surprise. “You were all about to have dinner? Without me?”

“You were in a coma, my lord,” Ivan says.

“I was taking a nap,” Lord Brennan corrects. His golden eyes catalogue the way Marie is standing over you, the three empty seats at the end of the table opposite Ivan. Rather than claiming the empty head of the table seat, he strides over to Ivan. “Up, up you get.”

“There’s another seat you can take!” Ivan complains. He guards his plate of food. “I just served myself.”

“Go sit with your wife and daughter,” Lord Brennan commands. He nearly sits on Ivan when the other man stands too slowly. He smiles charmingly at Sarah. “Director. Fancy seeing you here.”

Sarah flushes up to her ears.

“Daughter?” Hera asks.

Your stomach turns over. Oh god. It’s not fair that they asked you �� you were too happy to think about it, but the other kids must be devastated—

But Hera doesn’t look sad. She’s staring at you for an answer, her eyes open and accepting.

“Y-yeah,” you say.

“Hell yeah,” Josiah says. “If the Bahrs adopt you that means I can read through their library right?”

Annie looks up at you. “And we can come visit?”

“Of course you all can,” Marie answers. Is her voice a little misty? “You all can stay here as long as you like.”

“Go sit with them,” Hera says. She smiles and pushes at you. “Go on.”

It’s the best meal you’ve ever had.

-----

(Part 1) (Part 2) (part 3) (part 4)

------------------

Thanks for reading! IF you'd like to support me and see pieces like this a week in advance plus monthly exclusives, please consider checking out my Patreon!(X)

#The Hero and Hope #second person #my writing #fantasy writing #writeblr

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sunderwight · 1 year ago

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Moshang AU where Airplane transmigrates into a demon NPC from one of the fanservice clans he created, rather than into Shang Qinghua.

So basically, there was a point in time where a lot of PIDW chapters were just Luo Binghe running around propelled by political plots and rebellions from the demon kingdoms, and most of that actually just ended up being Luo Binghe collecting wives with cute animal ears and tails and various abilities that Airplane used all of once and then completely forgot about. They covered the usual bases of the sexy cat girls, sexy fox girls, sexy bunny girls, sexy bird girls with wings, etc, before moving into more, erm, niche animal hybrid demon territory.

Which is all a roundabout way of explaining Cute Hamster Boy Shang Qinghua in his faithful-to-canon clan of Hamster Demons, whose primary skills include cute squeaking noises and digging abilities.

In the process of making his braindead written-in-a-panic-at-3-am "world building" on this front actually function in a real version of the setting, there has got to be a way for the otherwise-unremarkable fanservice demon tribes to actually survive the incredibly hostile environment which Airplane otherwise described, though. Like yeah sure when you're writing a book you can just say in one breath that the demon realms are incredibly brutal and cutthroat, and then in the next that this tribe of bunny girls with no visible skills at self-defense has existed here for thousands of years, but if you actually tried to set that up in some kind of a simulation the bunny girls wouldn't last one year, let alone one thousand.

In that case of Airplane's hamster tribe, their digging skills are so supernaturally prodigious that they are able to construct massive underground fortifications in otherwise hostile terrain. But that still doesn't solve all of their problems, because they still need to acquire food, and for that they mostly do have to go up to the surface. Some of their weakness is mitigated by sheer numbers -- they have a lot of kids to offset the high mortality rate. However, to further increase the survival rates, the hamster demons also try and make contracts with some of the local liege lords or ruling clans whenever they expand into a new territory. In exchange for protection, they send some of their extraneous family members out as servants, to either cement alliances through marriage (that high fertility is helpful and was indeed the crux of Wife #whatever's acquisition in canon) or to work as diggers or even high-level architects.

As the like, twelfth son of the Hamster Demon chieftain, this is Airplane's fate. On the one hand he's highly positioned enough to get an education, and his plot knowledge helps a lot. On the other hand, he's not high enough in the hierarchy to be kept around, so it's either go work for some other clan or else risk his neck doing missions on the hostile and deadly surface. Neither seems great, but Airplane would rather try his luck as a sycophant than a warrior.

Luckily (or unluckily, depending on his mood when he thinks about it) when Airplane reaches sixteen years of age, it's around the same time that the Hamster clan's tunnels have expanded towards the Northern Desert. Airplane ends up being part of the "hiii~ pleasedon'tkillus let's be friends~" tribute to Mobei Jun's father.

Mobei Jun's father tosses him to Mobei Jun, so Airplane dutifully latches onto him in order to avoid being eaten by any of the other retainers. Airplane has been educated in various subterranean building skills and is under the impression that he's been given to MBJ in order to build him his own palace or something?

Everyone else assumes that the Hamster demon is a concubine.

Mobei Jun also thinks that's what he's been given, but he's too busy bristling in teenage offense at being given a concubine by his father to actually consider taking Airplane to bed. So when Airplane starts doing other things for him, he just sort of bemusedly lets it happen.

Gradually it becomes apparent that Airplane himself isn't interested in being a concubine. No. Clearly, this Hamster is gunning for future empress of the Northern Desert! How else would one explain all the lengths he's going to not only to win Mobei Jun's favor, but to secure his position and ensure his future rule? The system also wants Airplane to ensure the Abyss plot arc happens in the future, too, which means Airplane helps Mobei Jun win and instigate conflicts against the righteous cultivation sects too.

Obviously, Airplane wants power. Mobei Jun knows that if he gets an heir off of Airplane that will be that, the wily minx will use any children to secure his position, and MBJ is not convinced he could control himself well enough to prevent that sort of eventually. Airplane is fiendishly attractive, and he clearly knows it, and Mobei Jun is not sure if he wants to accept what increasingly seems to be the inevitable. He won't be a ladder for someone else's ambitions! But... as long as Airplane remains loyal to him, he will consider it. Even if Airplane never harbors any true affection for him, and simply considers him a means to an end. If, by the time he ascends the Hamster has not betrayed him or tried to elevate himself by flipping over this uncle's side, or seduced any of his other relatives or any of the highly-placed lords all salivating to steal MBJ's would-be empress, then Mobei Jun will grant his wish and make him the second most powerful demon in the North.

Airplane, meanwhile, just wants a snack and a nap. Maybe if he builds a secure enough fortress and amasses enough of an intelligence network and hoards a few advantages for himself, and figures out how to stop pissing off MBJ, he'll survive long enough to retire. Somehow.

#moshang #svsss #mobei jun #shang qinghua #airplane shooting towards the sky #scum villain's self saving system #og shang qinghua doesn't factor in I don't think #airplane gets shipped north around when mbj would have run into hhp and rescues him instead

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jellykyunnie · 4 months ago

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˗ˏˋ Entry : 052 - Lovesick! Fae King! Sung Jinwoo x Fem! Reader ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ ˎˊ˗

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕁𝕚𝕟𝕨𝕠𝕠˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

‼️[ TW: stalking, obsession, gaslighting(?), gore, body horror, blasphemy, BLOOD, the act of burning people alive, arson, yandere/lovesick Jinwoo au ]‼️

╰┈➤ ❝ [ Then Let This World Set Ablaze ] ¡! ❞

You really don't know how it happened, one day you were strolling blissfully in the forest behind your cottage and now you were suddenly acquainted with the fae king who was in charge of the underworld

In your world that was run by a bunch of swindling and bastard gods with their minions of divine creatures who praise even their most horrendous crimes; lives an eternal fae king of the dead who never wanes in power.

From the heavens, the lands, the seas and the afterlife— The Fae King of the undead was someone no one could touch. Not even the greater demons and the father of all creation could dare face this man.

Well, they did once upon a time.

And the world was plunged into eternal darkness with humans being shielded by the same king everyone had despised. Humans now realized that those they worship had little to no regard to them as they started a devastating ragnarok just for the sake of pride and royalty.

In the end? 80% of the gods who started the war fell beneath the fae lord's feet and reincarnated into ghastly undead soldiers made of shadowy wisps wicked beyond one could ever imagine.

Since then, Jinwoo had become someone the common folk and even demons worship. Does he care? No. He just wants to live his long and take care of his family in his kingdom where no one can get in or out.

Not even the 9th class mages could even locate where it is.

Maybe there are but never lived to tell the tale and probably suffering eternal punishment in his army of the undead where even gods aren't spared from.

Until you.

Yes, you.

Just a simple girl who lives out in the cottage living life as happily as she can away from the big city.

The foolish and small you who doesn't even have a pinch of divine power nor exceptional mana flowing within your blood.

Somehow, the same you who is nothing more than just one of the many soul the resides in this vast world— Stumbled upon the kingdom of the Fae King of the Eternal Night.

Word of tongue say this place would be barren and dry with rot here and there. The nauseating scent of death would flow here and there that it would lead you mad.

But all of those were lies.

Instead you had found youself in a tranquil land where all sorts of flowers glow beneath your feet as a guiding trail. When you followed the gentle lights that guided you in this ethereal land where the stars shine brighter than you've ever seen— You would find yourself in front of the same king that all beings fear and submit you.

Yet why is he so beautiful?

You should be afraid.

And yet you find yourself entranced by this man who brought the mightiest being of earth to their knees.

Cascading and silky long black locks that falls so prettily as if it's made from the finest of fine silk, loose and almost open black robes that seem to glimmer softly as if it's made with a blanket of stars, a face so sculpted so perfectly it's impossible to not say this man must have been a sculpture made with hands of a divine artists whose touch only brings perfection— And oh those eyes.

Those enchanting silver eyes of death that seem to pull you into an abyss you're willing to drown yourself into.

This divine being in front of you,... Is he truly the same man who has powers so great that he can eradicate all living being with a wave of his hand whenever he pleases?

You find yourself incapable to believe that, no way, this man is too beautiful for all that wickedness.

And so that was the day you have somehow stumbled upon the kingdom of the eternal night and earned the favor of it's benevolent ruler.

꒰ ... ꒱

Contrary to what the ancient texts and the priests say about Jinwoo's cold temperment— He's actually surprisingly decent and quite normal.

Maybe even more gentle than the local men of your village who are nothing more than burly men who only care about their muscles and beer and getting laid in the dead of night.

Jinwoo is extremely easy to talk to and seems to take pleasure in showing you around his kingdom which is full of life despite being a place where the personification of death presides in.

No, in fact, this place is far more beautiful than the major cities you have seen in your small lifespan as a living being.

His soldiers who are the most fiercest of all would turn into somewhat into a group of puppies the moment they see their master passing by. Of course, the undead creatures were skeptical of you at first but quickly grew warm as soon as they realized that their 'father' is quite fond of you.

A few of them are even asking if you could play with them— To which Jinwoo strictly says no to their dismay.

You really think nothing of all this, don't you?

After all, the fae king is treating you so warmly.

You really aren't thinking of it, don't you?

You foolish, naive child.

꒰ ... ꒱

Jinwoo had his eye on you for the longest time ever since you had moved into the meek village. You are nothing more than a puny and naive human who wants to live a good life and the village welcomed you.

You were given the abandoned cottage deep in the forest but not too far from the village, they even volunteered to repair the decrepit place to which you can't possibly thank them enough for.

Such generous humans for someone as sweet and cute as you.

Yes.

Cute.

An emotion that the fae king couldn't quite describe at first since he grew used to the absence of emotions because of his birth as the one who will succeed the late Ashborn as the new kingdom of the eternal night kingdom and the new monarch that will lead the army of the dead.

His duty? To uphold peace and make sure all living beings stay in their place and never go out of line.

Should they do so then it'll be immediate death as well as being added to the immortal army to prevent them from reincarnating and repeating the same mistakes.

He grew as a normal child of the elven kingdom. But as his powers grew— His emotions disappeared one by one until he is nothing more than that for a vessel of war.

Jinwoo is more than thankful enough for his beloved family who resides with him in the kingdom. He shaped this barren place for them to live in and do what they desire.

A medicinal lab for his little sister who studies healing magic, a garden for his mother to tend to any time, and a smithy for his father to busy himself to and craft weapons for fun, or maybe just his small way of helping his kind son who unfortunately has to carry the burden of the world on his shoulders.

Truly, he can't be thankful enough.

Even if he cannot feel the same level of affections he has for them the way he used to when he was but a small elven child who wished nothing more than protect and love them.

But then you came.

A fascinating and adorable human that he has a weird connection to.

He was drawn to you.

Jinwoo can never know where these foreign feelings stem from, all he knew is that he is completely entranced by you and you only.

What is it that he feels?

He wanted to watch you.

He wanted to imprison you.

He wanted to see you smile.

He wanted to see you cry miserably.

He wanted to ruin you.

But he also wanted to cherish you.

Jinwoo cant quite put a finger on it. Regardless, he was satsified on just watching you for now since he can't exactly interfere with anyone else's life since he wants to be left alone too.

But then you stumbled upon his kingdom by accident because one of his foolish children forgot to close the dimension that leads back to his domain.

He could punish them, but he decided against it since he is quite thankful of the unexpected arrangement.

He just has to tighten the security and indulge in you.

Jinwoo is aware that humans can express quite a lot since his sister is very much like that.

But you bewitch him in a way he cant really describe.

He loved to watch the way the flowers would dance and caress your gentle skin when the wind blows. He loved the way your clothes wrinkle around your perfect body that he just itched to hold. He loved to hear your sweet voice ringing in his ears when you ask him trivial and downright ridiculous questions just to satisfy your musings.

But he, the king of this land, was the fool that indulged in all your whims.

He can't really resist you, how could he?

Jinwoo has no will to fight whatever is stirring within him in the presence of the precious you.

It was to the point that he becomes extremely obsessed with you without him realizing, he wanted to know more.

Human curiosity is the reason why the species has thrived so far depsite being one of the lower life forms whose sole purpose is to play puppets for the pathetic beings higher than their measly mortal beings, right?

That means Jinwoo can also be curious too.

No matter how twisted it can be.

It should be fine.

꒰ ... ꒱

Oh how foolish can he be too, huh?

Your frequent trips to his kingdom resulted in the villagers rioting against you with the holy church charging you with meddling forbidden witchcraft.

Somehow those old bastards in the town managed to convince everyone that you are doing something heinous when in reality you were just accompanying Jinwoo on a daily basis.

And so they dragged you to the stakes, tied you on a pole and did their blasted rituals gaslighting themselves that what they're doing as it is for the world and the will of the lord that you die by fire.

"Ignite her," A booming, thundering voice ruptures through the maddeneds howls and cackles of the villagers and priests gathered around your sorry figure praying to whatever fucking god they believe in. "I dare you"

"You!" A bishop raises his finger at the stranger, his action full of vigor and pride. "How dare you interrupt this holy ceremony dedicated to our benevolent ghod Anakkhis?"

"Hah?" The heretic scoffs, finding the whole idea ridiculous. "You're talking about that god? That fool that wept at my feet for mercy? You have some thick skin for thinking that someone like me will cower over a measly insect like that?"

"You—" The bishop gasps, completely taken aback at how bold he was. "Restrain him! That filthy thing dares to speak blasphemy of the great one! Burn him alongside that wench!"

"That wench?" Jinwoo clicks his tongue, his eyes turning into an even stronger color of blazing purple as priests and ordinary humans charged at him. "You've given me more reason on why I should murder the lot of you. For daring to call my woman a wench and burning her for a sin that was never there."

With a snap of his fingers, head would explode one by one and the screams of onlookers would fill the air that was once filled with laughter and mirth.

Cold and unfeeling Purple eyes look straight at you, each step that he makes accompanied with the falling corpses.

You dare not look at Jinwoo's gaze, after all, the air is too suffocating. You can barely even take a full breath, everytime you try to it feels like your lungs will suffocate.

And the screams, god those tortured screams.

How dare you ever doubt that he is the absolute being that has put the world on a chokehold?

By the time the priests have realized who Jinwoo was, it was far too late now since he immediately had their heads bursting.

When he reached you, his blackened hand gently lifts your face to meet his maddened and cold gaze.

How is he still so hauntingly beautiful despite the blood splatters on his divine face?

How can wrath look so gorgeous and ethereal on someone like him?

You can see the vein popping on his jaw as he unfastened the ropes and picked you up, allowing your sorry form to weep on his shoulder.

"Please, stop it!' You beg, not wanting to hear more of the torturous screams. "I'll do anything, just please stop it"

"Anything?" Jinwoo tilts his head, musing at your sobbing.

"Anything." You choke up, holding tighter onto him to show your sincerity. "Please, please stop it"

"Then you shall be my wife" Jinwoo simply says as presses his lips on your pretty little head. "Humans have a saying ti'll death do us apart. But you have no need for that."

"After all, your husband is death itself."

He is both hell and heaven depending on which side you choose to take. He is the absolute being that brings everything to it's knees. The madman who has succesfully put the world into the palm of his hand.

The village that once welcomed you with warm and loving arms starts to disappear from the distance as it billows a cloud of smoke from cindering and brilliant violet flames that defies everything natural.

It was a warning to the gods and all other living beings

,... That the Fae King of the Eternal Night Kingdom, the Shadow Monarch of the Immortal Army— Is alive and well.

It is a way to announce that he still stands as the most powerful being with an omniscient view of this wretched earth and will return should they step out of line again.

May it be humans or their worshippers, no one will be spared from the bloodbath and carnage he will bring should his wrath ever be incurred.

And, you.

You, the foolish and naive child of the land—

Is the salvation that will prevent this world from dancing in violet flames so long as you remain in his hold. Forever captive to his obsession.

꒰ 🪼 A/N: Whoever may i write for I will always return to my beloved Jinwoo heheh><!! I love him dearly and can never stop loving him try as I might xD!! Next fic are hsr men again so look forward to it. For now, a self-indulgent au is here that I will be making a bot for tomorrow too so heheh:3!!! ꒱

ʚ(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ .｡✧: ~♡ —! stories written by kyunnie; translations, reposts, plagiarism are strictly forbidden.

#‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡🪐༘⋆— kyunnie's writings #sung jinwoo #solo leveling #sung jin woo #only i level up #solo leveling headcanons #sung jinwoo x reader #ore dake level up na ken #jin woo sung #solo leveling x reader #sung jinwoo headcanons #sung jinwoo x you #sung jinwoo x fem reader #yandere sung jinwoo #yandere sung jinwoo x reader #yan!sung jinwoo x reader #sung jinwoo fics #sung jinwoo x y/n

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