#as much as i love city of immortals
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edwardpinestar · 2 years ago
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Who gets more worshippers: Your SoLM Life or City of Immortals Life/Twyla?
I don't really know?? SoLM Life isn't planned to play much of a part in my works, so I haven't thought about her too much.
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tinkkles · 1 year ago
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Petra's awoken guardian-specific dialogue in the Chamber of Starlight this week has me feeling some kind of way. I didn't get a screenshot but after reminiscing about all the ceremonies she used to attend there, she sighs and says something like "I wish you could remember it."
For all the angst-ing she's done about Uldren and Crow, she also feels that for us, at least to some extent. Maybe Mara does too. Maybe Uldren did, when we met him before he died. For centuries the reef awoken have been seeing their friends die and come back wrong, same face, but no memories, no convictions, no nothing. Petra knew us before, at least in some capacity, and now we're just a living weapon she gets to co-wield like once a year, when our weird work schedule for some foreign government agency just so happens to send us back to the Dreaming City, our home, where we used to attend ceremonies and sing in the Chamber of Starlight alongside her. No wonder Uldren resented guardians so much. Dramatic irony is such a bitch
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tomurakii · 1 year ago
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Struggling to pick an ending w the whole Gale/crown thing because I feel like he could be a good God. And that I'd rather he have it than Mystra or any of the other options. He could, in fact, do so much with it.
Like I understand that it's a repetition of Gale's folly and his overambition. And depending on how he acts about it (like if he says "I could do good with it" versus "I could be powerful") my opinion could change, but recognising that you don't HAVE to be good doesn't mean that he shouldn't help people EVER, right? If the alternative is leaving the crown in the ocean, why not let Gale take it?
And then also just from a romance plot perspective, I don't know if he'll go back to dying from the orb if he loses the tadpole, but if the crown would keep him alive then I'd want him to take it? I've seen people frame the orb as being "the consequences of his actions" but if those actions were taken because he was trying to prove himself to his teacher/Goddess/lover (ew) then I don't think he deserves to die or continue suffering when there's a way to cure him. He could be a good God. Or even just happy and alive. Ambition as a whole isn't a bad thing, Gale's was bad because he was self-destructive and put it above connecting with others, like how Astarion's is bad because it comes at the expense of others.
I mean I guess if Gale decides to leave Tav when he gets the crown then that is a symptom of destructive ambition. But my ideal outcome would be him getting the crown and studying it, potentially surviving from it, and maybe eventually gaining strength he could use to help people? And is that really a bad thing? It feels like the Gale plotline wants you to talk him down from being powerhungry, and then talk him down further into apathy and a fucking. House-husband lifestyle.
I would understand if the game is trying to say that power corrupts, but in a world that already has so many Gods I feel like it doesn't apply as much as it does in the real world. If Mystra the Groomer can be a God, why couldn't Gale? Especially since he wants to you know. Help the helpless
But I don't know if this opinion is normal or if I just also have the same Must Be Good And Useful compulsions lol.
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^Tongbi
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^Chikao
Thoughts? yes? no?
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👍
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👍 - though maybe not for the same reasons lol.
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flippythegodzilla · 1 year ago
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After the wedding getting crashed, why had Lady Fate not helped Death regain control over the immortal realm?
Because Fate is part of a very powerful species of deities: Chaos, Fate and Time and Grimm, all of them are the most powerful deities of all. If she could, she could easily destroy Nazrat and Rocco with the flick of her finger without batting an eye.
But she can’t because it would seem she is being favorable to one more than the other… they have to stand neutral in all life of both mortals and immortals even though she watches, reads and even create fate, there are many different outcomes and she can’t just decide which one she likes more… it’s the immortals and mortals choice on which fate they walk upon… free will and all
Also her brother Chaos will throw a massive fit and have his children cause massive problems to the mortal realm which will hurt her youngest and she can’t not have that
All she can do is hope and pray that the better outcome will happen
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texeoghea · 1 year ago
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men will be like hang on i need to find a picture of a specific armor piece from game i havent played in 2 years for my armor concept for a completely different game. and btw i remembered the name of the armor set its from. like 4 years after the armor set was released. its the wing discipline mark
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akechi is a dual class hunter and titan to me whenever i think abt it sorry that those words dont mean anything to anyone else in the persona fandom. but if it did theyd be nodding. joker is a warlock hunter btw. if you even care. anyways
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ryin-silverfish · 6 months ago
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A Guide to the Chinese Underworld (and what it isn't)
As many FSYY and fox posts as there were on my blog, I am actually a huge fan of the Chinese Underworld mythos. Mostly because I was once a morbid little kid that loved reading about the excavations of ancient tombs, and found the statues depicting hellish torture in the Haw Par Villa "super cool".
Apart from the aesthetics, the history of its evolution is also fascinating. Most of us, Chinese or not, only know the most popular version of the Underworld——the "Ten Kings" system, yet that isn't always the case. So today, I'll start off with a short summary of that.
In pre-Qin era, there was already this generic idea of a "Realm of the Dead" called the Yellow Spring, Youdu, or Youming, but we know very little about it.
Then, in the Han dynasty, two ideas start to emerge: 1) the Underworld is a bureaucracy, 2) the God of Mt. Tai ruled over the dead.
This early bureaucracy might not function as an agent of punishment; the main focus was on keeping the dead segregated from the living so they wouldn't bring diseases and misfortune to the latter, as well as using those ghosts to enforce collective punishments upon people for their lineage's wrongdoings while they were still alive.
Post-Han, after Buddhism entered China and took root, its idea of karmic punishments and reincarnation and the figure of King Yama was merged with folk and Daoist ideas of the Underworld bureaucracy, and, came Tang dynasty, resulted in the "Ten Kings" system that first appeared in Dunhuang manuscripts.
It was very rudimentary and far from well-established, as seen in Tang legends, with some adopting the Ten Kings system, some sticking to the Lord of Mt. Tai and some favoring King Yama, and overall little agreements on who's in charge of the Underworld.
But the "Ten Kings" system would become the mainstream version from then onwards, used in Ming vernacular novels and made even more popular by folk religion scrolls like the Jade Records (Yuli Baochao).
As such, most points in the following sections will be based on the fully matured "Ten Kings" system of the Underworld, as seen in the Jade Records and JTTW.
What happens when you die?
(This is a fictionalized walkthrough of the posthumous fate of souls under the "Ten Kings" system. I try to stick to the very broad progression outlined in the Jade Records, but many creative liberties are taken on the details.)
Let's say there's a guy named Xiao Ming, and he had just died of a heart attack. Bummers. What now?
Well, the first thing he saw would be the ghost cops.
There isn't really an unanimous agreement on who these ghost cops are: they may be a pair of ghosts in white and black robes, wearing tall hats (Heibai Wuchang), they may have the heads of farm animals (Ox-Head and Horse-Face), or they can just be generic ghost bureaucrats. For convenience's sake, let's say it was the first scenario.
"Who are you guys and where are you taking me?"
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"Glad you asked!" The taller ghost cop, being the cheerful one of the pair, replied. It wasn't very reassuring, considering that his tongue was dangling out of his mouth way further than it should. "I'm the White Impermanence, my sour-looking colleague here is the Black Impermanence, and we are taking you to the City God's office."
This City God, a.k.a. Chenghuang, is just like how it sounds: the divine guardian of a city, who also pulls double duty as the head of the local Dead People Customs Office. They are usually virtuous officials deified posthumously, and in JTTW, they fall under the category of "Ghostly immortals", together with the Earth Gods a.k.a. Tudi.
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So Xiao Ming went with the two ghost cops——not like he had much of a choice, made his way through the long queue at the City God's office, and was now standing in front of a gruff old magistrate in traditional robes.
"Name?"
"Wang Xiao Ming."
"Age and birth dates?"
"21, April 16 2003…"
After he was done asking questions, the City God flipped through his ledger, then picked up a brush, ticked off Xiao Ming's name, and told him to go get his pass in the next room. More waiting in a queue. Wonderful.
"I never heard anything about needing a pass to get to the Underworld," the girl in front of Xiao Ming asked the ghost cops, who were standing guard nearby. "Is this a new policy or something?"
"Yeah. In the old days, we'd just drag y'all straight to the Ghost Gate." The ghost cop in black said, then muttered to himself, "Fuckin' paperworks and overpopulation, man…"
(This "Dead People Passport" thing was popularized in the middle-to-late Ming dynasty, as shown by the discovery of such documents inside tombs in southern China. )
(It might have evolved from similar passes to the Western Pure Land in lay Buddhism that recorded their acts of merits. Which, in turn, might be traced back to the "Dead People Belongings List" of Han dynasty, to be shown to Underworld bureaucrats so that no one would take away the dead's private property down there or something.)
Anyways, after he received his pass, Xiao Ming departed together with the rest of the bunch, to be led to the Ghost Gate. It was like the world's most depressing tourist group, where instead of tour guides, you got two ghost cops in funny hats, and the only scenery in sight was the desolation of the Yellow Spring Road.
They weren't the only travellers on the road, though. Xiao Ming noticed other groups moving in the far distance, behind the fog and the flickering ghostfire, led by similar figures in black and white.
It made a lot of sense; realistically, there was no way two ghost cops could fetch hundreds of thousands of dead people all by themselves.
(SEA Tang-ki mediums believed there were multiple Tua Di Ya Peks——Hokkien name for the Black and White Impermanences, working for different Underworld Courts.)
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At last, the Ghost Gate stood in front of Xiao Ming, guarded by two towering figures. Normally, they'd be Ox-Head and Horse-Face, like what you see at Haw Par Villa's Underworld entrance.
However, older Han dynasty works like Wang Chong's 论衡·订鬼 also mentioned two gods, Shenshu and Yulei, as guardians of the Ghost Gate, who would use reed ropes to capture malicious ghosts and feed them to tigers, making them possibly the earliest incarnation of "Gate Gods".
So here, they were what Xiao Ming sees, standing side by side like proper doormen, silently watching herds of ghosts being funneled through the entrance.
The place was more crowded than a train station during the CNY Spring Rush; the ghost cops had already said their quick goodbye and left to fetch the next group of dead people, leaving the resident officials of the Underworld proper to maintain order and quell any would-be riots.
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Now you started seeing the Ox-Head and Horse-Face guys, poking at unruly ghosts with their pitchforks and dragging away the violent ones in chains. Among their ranks were other monstrous beings, blue-faced yakshas and imps, but also regular dead humans who look 100% done with their jobs, like the lady who stamped Xiao Ming's pass when it was finally his turn.
After this point, Xiao Ming had entered the Underworld proper, and his next destination would be the First Court, led by King Qin'guang. Here, his fate should be decided by what is revealed in the King's magical mirror.
If Xiao Ming was a good guy, or someone who had done an equal amount of good and bad things in life, he'd be sent straight to the Tenth Court for reincarnation. However, if the mirror, while replaying his life events, had displayed more evil deeds than good ones, he'd be sent to one of the 2nd-9th Courts for judgment and then punished inside the Eighteen Hells.
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Each of the Ten Kings was also assisted by ghostly judges. Many of them were righteous and just officials in life who had been recruited into the Ten Courts posthumously——Cui Jue from JTTW is one such example, while others were living people working part-time for the Underworld, like how Wei Zheng, Taizong's minister, works part-time for the Celestial Bureaucracy in JTTW.
We decide to be nice to Xiao Ming, so, after reliving some embarrassing childhood incidents and cringy teenage phases in front of a bunch of dead bureaucrats, he was found innocent and sent to the Tenth Court.
The queue here was almost as long as the First Court's, stretching on and on alongside of the banks of the Nai River. King of the Turning Wheel made his judgment without even lifting his head when it was Xiao Ming's turn:
"Path of Humans, male, healthy in body and mind, ordinary family. Next!"
Exiting the Tenth Court building, Xiao Ming saw the Terrace of Forgetfulness, standing tall before six bridges, made of gold, silver, jade, stone, wood, and…some unidentified material. Before he could get a good look at them and the little dots moving across those bridges, he was hurried into the Terrace by the ghostly officials.
Now, both JTTW and the Jade Records mention multiple bridges across the Nai River. In the former, there is 3, and the latter, 6. The bridges made of precious materials are for people who will reincarnate into better lives, as the wealthy, the fortunate, and the divine, while the Naihe Bridge is either the common option or the terribad shitty option.
However, the Naihe Bridge proved to be so iconic, it became THE bridge you walk across to reincarnate in popular legends.
Anyways, back to Xiao Ming. He found himself standing in a giant soup kitchen of sorts, with an old lady at the counter, scooping soup out of her steaming pot and into one cup after another.
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This is Mengpo, the amnesia soup granny; according to the Jade Records, she was born in the Western Han era, and a pious cultivator who thought of neither the past nor the future, only knowing that her surname was Meng.
Made into an Underworld god by the Jade Emperor, she cooks a soup of five flavors that will wipe the memory of the dead, making sure they do not remember any of their past lives once they reincarnate.
It tastes awful. Like what you get after pouring corn syrup, coffee, chilli sauce, lemon juice and seawater into the same cup.
Such was Xiao Ming's last thought, as he gulped down the soup, and then he knew no more.
Things you should know about the Chinese Underworld:
1. It's not the Christian Hell.
Rather, the Chinese Underworld functions somewhat like the Purgatory, in that there are a lot of torment, but the torment's not eternal, however long the duration may be. Once you finish your sentence, you get reincarnated as something else, though that "something else" is not a guaranteed good birth.
Other people can also speed up the process via transferring of merits: hiring a priest/monk to chant sutras and perform rituals, for example, or performing good deeds in life in dedication to the dead, or they can pray to a Daoist/Buddhist deity to save their loved ones from a dreadful fate.
Interestingly enough, a thesis paper I read mentions that, whereas Buddhist salvation from the Hells was based on transference of merits——you give monks offerings and pay them to chant sutras, so they can cancel out the sinners' bad karma with good ones, Daoist ideas of salvation tend to involve the priest going down there, sorting it out with the Underworld officials, and taking the dead out of the Hells themselves.
(The paper also stops at the Northern-Southern and Tang dynasties, so the above is likely period-specific.)
2. Nor is it run by evil demons.
Underworld officials are not nice guys and look pretty monstrous and torture the sinful dead, but they are not the embodiment of evil. Rather, the faction as a whole is what I'd call Lawful Neutral, who function on this "An Eye for An Eye" logic, where every harm the sinner caused in life must be returned to them, in order for their karmic debts to be cleansed and move on to their next life.
They can absolutely be corrupt and incompetent and take bribes——Tang dynasty Zhiguai tales and Qing folklore compendiums featured plenty of such cases, but that's a very mundane and human kind of evil, not a cosmic/innate one.
This is just my personal opinion, but if you want to do an "evil" Chinese Underworld? It should be a very bureaucratic evil, whose leaders are bootlickers to the higher-ups, slavedrivers to their rank-and-file workers, and bullies who abuse their power over regular dead people.
Not, y'know, Satan and his infernal legions or conspiring Cthulu cultists.
3. The Ten Kings are not Hades.
Make no mistake, they still have a lot of power over your average dead mortal. But in the grand scheme of things? They are the backwater department of the pantheon, who only show up in JTTW to get pushed around and revive the occasional dead people.
When Taizong made his trip to the Underworld, the Ten Kings greeted him as equals——kings of ghosts to the king of the living. If they see themselves as equal in status to a mortal emperor, then, like any mortal emperors, they are subordinate to the Celestial Host, and the balance of power is not even remotely equal or in their favor.
Also, it isn't said outright, but under the Zhong-Lv classification of immortals JTTW is using, Underworld officials will likely be considered Ghostly immortals, the lowest and weakest of the five types, much like Tudis and Chenghuangs.
Essentially: they are ghosts that are powerful enough to not reincarnate and linger on and on, spirits of pure Yin as opposed to true immortals, who are beings of pure Yang.
It's pretty much the shittiest form of immortality, the result you get when you try to speedrun cultivation (the Zhong-Lv text also made a dig at Buddhist meditation here), and if they don't reincarnate or regain a physical body, there is no chance of progressing any further.
Oh, and fun fact? In the Song dynasty, commoners and literati elites alike believed that virtuous officials in life would get appointed as ghostly officials in death.
However, the latter viewed it as a punishment. Which was strange, considering how they still held the same position and the same amount of authority, just over dead people instead of living ones, so there should be no big losses, right?
Well...it was precisely the "dead people" part that made it a punishment. See, a lot of the power and prestige they had as officials came from the benefits they could bring to their families and kins and native places, as well as the potential wealth and reputation bonuses for themselves.
A job in the Dead People Supreme Court would give them the same workload, but with none of those benefits. Since all the dead people had to reincarnate eventually, they couldn't have a fixed group as their power base, or keep their old familial ties and connections. At most, they could help out an occasional dead relative or two.
Like, working for the Underworld Courts was the kind of deadend (no pun intended) job not even living officials wanted for themselves in the afterlife. That's how hilariously sad and pathetic they are.
4. In JTTW at least, they aren't even the highest authorities of the Underworld.
That would be Bodhisattva Ksitigarbha, who is technically their boss, though he seems to be more of a spiritual leader than someone who is actually involved in running the bureaucracy.
Which makes sense, since he has sworn an oath to not attain Buddhahood until all Hells are empty, and his role is to offer relief and salvation to the suffering souls, not judging and punishing them.
Now, historically...even though Ksitigarbha in early Tang legends was still the savior of the dead, he seemed to be unable to interfere with the judicial process of the Underworld, merely showing up to take people away before they were judged by King Yama.
However, in the mid-Tang apocryphal "Sutra of Bodhisattva Ksitigarbha" (地藏菩萨经), he had evolved into the equal of King Yama, with the power of supervision over his judgements. By the time the Scripture on the Ten Kings came out, in artistic depictions, the Ten Kings had become fully subservient to him.
5. Diyu usually refers to the prison-torture chamber part, not the courthouse, nor is it the entirety of the Underworld.
And for the majority of souls that haven't committed crimes, they'll only see the courthouse part before they are sent to reincarnation. That's why I personally don't like, or use the name Diyu for the Chinese Underworld: I prefer the term Difu ("Earth Mansions"), which encompasses the whole realm better.
Also: even though historical sources like the Scripture on the Ten Kings and Jade Records seem to suggest that the dead were just funneled through this Courthouse-Prison-Reincarnation pipeline with no breaks in between, in practice, that isn't the case.
According to popular folk beliefs, after the dead were done with their trials/sentences, they stayed in the Underworld for a period of time and led regular lives, while functioning as ancestor spirits and receiving offerings.
Which would imply that the Underworld had a civilian district of sorts, populated by regular ghosts, making the whole realm even less of a direct Hell/Purgatory equivalent.
6. It is located in a different realm, but still part of the Six Paths and doesn't exist outside of reality.
In Buddhist cosmology, like the Celestial Realm, the Underworld is part of the Realm of Desires and thus subject to all the woes of samsara.
The pain and misery of the Path of Hell may be the worst and most obvious, but becoming a celestial being isn't the goal of serious Buddhists either: despite all the pleasures and near-infinite lifespan they enjoy, they are not free from samsara and will eventually have to reincarnate.
So if, say, the world is being destroyed at the end of a kalpa, all beings of the Six Paths will perish alongside it, leaving behind a clean slate for the cycle to start anew. The dead won't all end up in the Underworld and face eternal damnation.
7. The Black and White Impermanences would not appear in the Underworld pantheon formally until the Qing dynasty.
The concept that when you die, you get fetched to the Underworld by petty ghost bureaucrats is already well-established in Tang legends, but these were just generic ghost bureaucrats in all sorts of colorful official robes, with yellow being the most common color.
The idea of there being two specific psychopomps in black and white would only become popular in the Qing dynasty. Mengpo is kinda similar: although she existed before the Ming-Qing era as a goddess of wind, venerated by boatmen, her "amnesia soup granny" incarnation came from the Jade Records.
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specshroom · 6 months ago
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Ok so what do you think would make a monster INSTANTLY attracted to someone. And then how do you think they would vocalize/show it?With said monsters being orcs, merfolk, centaurs, driders, werewolves, and vampires
Okokok so these are all obviously just my opinion :) but here we go:
🧌 I think in orc culture the women initiate romantically and sexually just as much as the men, as opposed to human culture where the men generally are expected to initiate more. So I think any orc would find it hot if you were the one to flirt and initiate contact first.
- They like humans who know what they want and go for it.
- They like humans who can hold their liquor. They just think it's hot.
- They like humans who are a little vulgar. Who swear and shout and are a little rowdy maybe?
- So if you want to attract an orc your best bet would be to just go up to one and flirt heavily with them. If they like you they'll think it's hot that you show your attraction so boldly and they'll flirt back just as hard.
🧜Merfolk generally keep to themselves and their underwater cities. For a merfolk to be swimming in shallow waters means they're probably curious about the surface already.
- These merfolk will be instantly intrigued by a human who is as interested in them as the merfolk is with the surface. They just really like humans who try and talk to them, frantically ask them questions about their species and just seem enamored with their existence.
- A merfolk will fall for a human who brings them cool human stuff they've never seen before and enthusiastically tells them stories about the surface world.
- They'd appreciate humans who aren't scared to swim with them. They know the water is not a humans natural place and that it takes a lot of trust for them to be so vulnerable. They'd straight up take that as a confession of love from the human.
🐎 In my head centaurs are often depicted as strong stern types. Like noble warriors and such so I think they'd admire humans who are resourceful and independent.
- They won't like any human who disrespects nature. Killing unnecessarily or destroying/ littering wildlife is an absolute no go.
- They like outdoorsy humans who like nature walks or mountain climbing, that kind of shit. Anything from fishing to bird watching really.
- They find archery very attractive for some reason.
- Centaurs are known for being steely and almost cold so if one likes you they probably won't show it immediately but slowly over time by engaging in your shared interests.
🕷️ I think driders are often starved for affection. In my headcanon, driders don't get much affection from their parents because they're very independent and able from a young age so they're never really coddled as children.
- So I think driders would like a human who treats them very gently and sweetly despite not needing too at all because they're fierce hunters.
- They're not the most approachable monsters with their eight beady eyes and venom filled chelicerae. They don't initiate with humans much because they know they can be frightening. It can be isolating for them so they'd love if a human showed no fear towards them and instead treated them as if they were cute rather than scary.
- They'd be absolutely smitten if a human coddled and babied them, calling them grossly sweet petnames like "cutey", "darling" or "baby" while caressing their face gently. Just treating them with such care even though they could kill the human very easily. They might even cry from the affection.
🦇 I think vampires appreciate humans who aren't childish but still have a love for life. People who are lively and curious about the world but still mature and driven.
- I think humans who are exciting and have a thirst for life is what attracts vampires cus it helps them reignite their own love for life which may have dwindled after so many years of being immortal.
- Humans who are reckless with their own lives are a turn off. Vampires already have to experience losing many close ones due to immortality so I don't think they'd appreciate someone who disregards their life or the lives of others carelessly.
- Vampires are harder to categorise because they all come from different backgrounds and stuff but I think if a vampire liked a human most of them would have to know one for a while before bringing up anything serious. They understand the stakes (hah) of falling in love with humans and act accordingly.
🐺 Dog people. Werewolves like dog people. Sorry I know it's basic but I think werewolves are often simple creatures so what attracts them is relatively simple. Nothing wrong with that.
- They see a human walking their dog and they just go "I have a chance!!"
- They like humans who smell like their dog or have dog fur on their clothes, they think it's cute.
- They think it's so cute when humans baby talk dogs while giving them pets. It makes their own tails wag sometimes.
- Now that doesn't mean they like being treated like dogs cus they don't. They just think a dog person is a huge green flag in humans.
- Don't worry, this doesn't mean they hate cat people but they are more likely to flirt and initiate conversation with someone who has a dog or who smells like they own a dog.
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sailorrhansol · 5 months ago
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Chat, is that Rizz? | j.ww (m)
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Pairing: Streamer!Wonwoo x Streamer! F.reader 
❀ Summary: Your rivalry with Wonwoo has existed for as long as you’ve been streaming. It’s fun, and both of your communities love it. Wonwoo is happy to play along - at least until you question his rizz while live, and he feels like he should remind you just how much rizz he has.
❀ Word Count: 5,366
❀ Genre: Established Relationship, Faux Rivals 
❀ Type: Smut, a hint of fluff
❀ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging in and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.
❀ Warnings: This is so cheesy and stupid and I don’t care!! Explicit language, teasing and light antagonization, gamer and streamer speak in spots, sexually explicit content including spanking, fingering, unprotected sex, hint of overstimulation, playful banter and teasing during sex, bodily fluids, soft dom if you squint. UNEDITED.
❀ A/N: I don’t care that parts of this are kind of cringe, @daechwitatamic tells me to write so I write and I needed to  get out of a writing slump. Yes the game they are playing is Valorant. No I did not call it Valorant. Have I played Valorant in the last year? No! Anyway, please enjoy this shameless porn no plot! Also please don't arrest me for the fucking TERRIBLE puns.
❀ Disclaimer: Disclaimer: All members of Seventeen are faces and name claims for stories. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios. Moreover, none of my works accurately reflect, represent or take a stance on the nuances of Korean culture, cities, people etc. Seventeen members are not Seventeen culturally, intellectually, physically, or representationally in my stories, and should be considered name and face stand-ins for made up characters.
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“You’re never going to hit Immortal with that strat, Wonwoo,” you tease, cringing as he gets gunned down by the enemy team’s Reyna. “Rotated too early.” 
“Here they go,” Seungcheol mutters into the mic, his exasperation making you grin as you fix your eyes on the screen. Like both you and Wonwoo, Seungcheol has already died in the round, watching as Mingyu navigates the map to pick up the bomb to attempt to save the round. 
“I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear you while you were dead,” Wonwoo shoots back. You scrunch your nose, knowing that it is, unfortunately, true. “I was in the land of the living. You know. Because I didn’t dry peek long and die.” 
“Seungcheol told me to push site!”
“Maybe push with util, though? Or be better.”
On the right side of your screen, you can see your chat blowing up. You grin and roll your eyes - you aren’t actually bothered by Wonwoo and you know he isn’t mad either. Playing games with him always elicits teasing and a steady back and forth.
Once upon a time, his poking might bother you. Now, you’ve played enough games with Wonwoo over the last two years to know better. It’s all in good faith, and it’s part of the joke, this ongoing way the two of you bicker and go tit for tat. 
“I am nothing if not an accommodating teammate,” you offer back. Mingyu manages to get to the site, swinging wildly to check for enemies. “I’m a helper. I like to help people.”
“You can help me by shutting up,” Mingyu mutters. 
“Yeah,” Wonwoo echos, a smirk prominent in his voice. “Shut up.” 
“No I’m talking to you too,” Mingyu assures. “And you did rotate without me and too early. So she’s right.”
That shuts Wonwoo up, a chorus of laughter echoing in the headset as your team watches Mingyu try and go for the clutch. Your laughter fades and you mute yourself on Discord in an attempt not to distract Mingyu, eyes flicking over to the comments flooding in on your stream.
It’s a rewarding feeling to see how many there are, donation notifications popping up on the top of your screen making your heart stutter a little. You can see Seokmin moderating as usual in the chat, reminding people the commands for frequently asked questions and removing anything weird. 
There is a lot of weird. 
“Thank you for the dono, Shaezy98. Yes, PiCheolwinning, I hit Immortal a few days ago! What do you guys think about doing a nonstop stream until I hit Radiant? Would that be fun?” 
Resounding yes responses flood the comments. You grin, pulling your legs up into the chair to make small talk with the community you’ve so carefully built over the last few years. You see a suggestion in the comments that makes you laugh, leaning forward to unmute yourself in Discord. 
“Hey Wonwoo,” you ask. “My chat wants us to try 1v1 where we customize each other’s settings. Thoughts?” 
It’s a common question. People love the dynamic you and Wonwoo specifically have, enjoying seeing the friendly rivalry grow over the years. You can recall several streams you’ve done just playing together, hosting charity events and promoting new games as a dynamic duo. 
Some wonder if you’re together. There’s no hard evidence, but there's chemistry there. A lightness to your banter that comes with a familiarity your fans try to piece together, a gentleness that sounds the edges of your insults to make sure the other knows your kidding. 
Wonwoo lets out a deep hum. “You’re gonna go demon mode on my settings. Then I’d have to change them back.”
You can’t help but roll your eyes. Of course he’s worried about his settings, as if he can’t export them. “Is that a no?”
“What’s in it for me? Besides my fucked up settings and the risk you change all my weapon skins.”
Clearing your throat, you put on your best telemarketer voice. “The benefits to this offer are endless. For a limited time only, you can take advantage  of quality time spent with me-” 
“Not a benefit.” 
You ignore his interruption, a vein in your forehead ticking at the comment. “You can protect your honor and pride as a gamer, and as a special early bird offer, I’ll give all donations from that stream to a charity of your choosing. Thoughts?” 
Mingyu ends up losing the round, earning a resounding sigh and curse from everyone on the team. You move your mouse around to click through weapons and set yourself up for the next round. “They’re going to force,” you say, momentarily distracted from your sales pitch by strategy. “Wonwoo I can buy you a marshall.”
“Yeah.” 
You make the transaction for him and drop the weapon so he can pick it up, noting the comments coming in from viewers.
NoLo88: See, she always does stuff for him - I swear they’re together!!!
EzBoyZ: No way would she date him.
NoLo88: Are you kidding? Have you seen Wonwoo? He’s like the hottest streamer ever.
LoLPog69: Ugh I hope they’re not dating, she’s better single. 
 “See, I’m fun. I’m nice. I’m a team player who helps win games. What do you say?” 
“Fine, it’s a date.” 
The way he so casually says it makes your stomach flip. You hesitate for a moment, blinking in surprise before you realize he’s said it without really thinking about it. Biting  your bottom lip to fight a smile, you ask, “Oh? A date? Chat, is that rizz?” 
“Oh fuck off,” Wonwoo huffs, trying to cover up his mistake. You can’t help it - your smile spreads as he rushes to gloss over what he said. “It’s a figure of speech.” 
“He’s trying to rizz me, chat!”
“In your dreams.”
“You should change your tag from WonuWizard to WonuRizzard.” Wonwoo curses as he gets killed. You cackle, killing an enemy and taking their gun. “Oo, an operator. Do you want this, Wonwoo? What about changing your tag to RizzardOfOz?” 
Wonwoo groans on the other end of the mic and you can imagine the way he pushes back in his chair, sinking a little further down as he spectates the match. “Yes, save the op for me, please. Also, get your chat out of mine. I’m going to get a Rizzstraining order.” 
You note the way he says for me when he asks for the weapon you’ve picked up to keep for him. It is a favor to him, intended for him. Your viewers notice. 
Seungcheol swears. “You two are insufferable to play with sometimes. We’re trying to win a game.” 
Mingyu huffs. “Just stop Rizzsponding, Cheol. They’ll shut up eventually.” 
With a laugh, you settle in and focus on the game. Even as the teasing dies down, you and Wonwoo fall into a comfortable give and take, working together to win the next few rounds and eventually, the entire match after Wonwoo closes out the game with an ace. 
“Wow.” You lean back in your chair, stretching. It’s getting late at night, and you feel a little tired. “Mad Rizzpect, Wonwoo. Up your rizz game and maybe I’ll go on a date with you.” 
“Up my rizz game?” His tone has shifted as everyone starts talking over one another, Seungcheol and Mingyu getting into it over something sports related. You’re focused on the soft purr of Wonwoo’s voice, though. The raspiness of it. “If I wanted to rizz you, I would.” 
Fuck. His voice. You shift a little in your seat, clicking around your secondary monitor that is off stream to pull up Wonwoo’s stream. It loads, immediately showing his dark room with slow pulsing RGB lights in the background and shelving displaying different collectible items. 
Wonwoo looks like he always does: leaned back casually in his seat, the glow of his computer reflecting in the lens of his black-frame glasses. Dark bangs hang in his eyes, the rest of his hair hidden by the hood that is pulled up over his head. He’s chewing on one of the strings of his hoodie as he talks to his chat, voice gentle.
His hoodie has a little animated version of him over the left side of the chest, the character winking and giving finger hearts. You feel your lips twitch - you always loved the little cartoon version of himself. As always, he looks totally at ease. It’s the same even in an intense game, Wonwoo never feeling the need to lean closer to the screen or showing the tension in his shoulders.
Calm. Cool. Collected.
Except when you can force a rise out of him, of course. 
A bunch of notifications flood in your chat. You look over to them, reading through them and grinning. You pull your mic toward you, shaking your head. “Ugh I have all the Wonwoo apologists in my chat defending your rizz.” 
“Good” he shoots back. You watch in delayed time as he smirks on his end. He so rarely does a full smile, but you know it’s beautiful when he does. “You need to take Rizzponsibility for implying I have no rizz.” 
“No way,” Mingyu gasps. “Two Wonwoo puns in a single night?”
“Puns and attempted rizz?” You ask, cocking your head. “Huge day for Wonwoo fans everywhere.” 
“Again, that wasn’t rizz. You’ll know it when I use it.”  
“Sure, sure. Or maybe you just… don’t have any.” 
You watch the tick in Wonwoo’s jaw. A grin spreads across your face and you try to suppress it, knee bouncing in anticipation as you watch the minute changes in his expression. He drums his fingers on the armrest of his gaming chair, hypnotizing you for a moment. He has long, elegant fingers paired with a beautiful set of hands. 
“You really think I have no rizz?” he asks, voice low and oh you know that voice. You suppress a shiver and shake your head ‘no’ before realizing that he can’t see you. Or he does - because he says, “Use your words like a big girl.” 
If you weren’t on stream, your eyes might roll back in your head at the soft purr of his voice, the way in which he immediately switches gears, put out by your accusations that you already know are false. 
And because you’re you, you push him a little more, interested to see where it goes.  “Are you watching my stream, Jeon Wonwoo?”
“Mhmm. Trying to learn rizz, since apparently I have none. Go on, show the class. What have you got?”
Seungcheol and Mingyu both ooo and quiet down, putting you on the spot. Heat tiptoes up your neck to your ears. Being a streamer by nature is being under the spotlight, especially when you have a high follower account. This is different though, the pressure suddenly flipped to you as your friends settle in, waiting. 
“It’s all about the charizzma,” you joke, voice a little raspy. You swallow, eyes flicking to your secondary monitor where you can see Wonwoo watching his screen with a growing grin. “I can’t teach you how to have that, Jeon.” 
“What can you teach me, Angel?” 
Jesus. Fucking. Christ. You know that commanding tone anywhere, the soft shift from teasing to something a little darker, a little sharper. He doesn’t care that you’re both on the screen for live viewers, that this will be recorded, or that you have friends on the call, who have taken a backseat to watch the fencing match. 
And the angel. Sure, it’s a small part of your brand and gamertag, but the way Wonwoo says it implies something intimate. Darker. A gentle caress of the word against your skin. 
When you come up with nothing, Wonwoo grins on screen, devastatingly handsome. He knows he’s surprised you. “Not a problem,” he quips. “I’m an excellent teacher. I can teach you how to rizzpond to a direct question.” 
He surprises you by ending the stream suddenly. You blink in surprise, both Seungcheol and Mingyu calling Wonwoo’s name, assuming his internet has gone out or has been interrupted. With shaking hands, you remove one side of your headphones, listening. Heavy footsteps sound in the hall and you squeak, hitting the hotkey to show be right back on your stream.
Wonwoo stands in the doorway. He gives you a single, lopsided smirk before waltzing toward you, a predator stalking prey. His dark eyes are focused on you, drinking you in. 
“Noooo,” you yell at him, giddy and panicked all at the same time. You hold your hands out to push him away but he links your fingers instead pressing his palms against yours and pulls you toward him. He jerks your computer chair toward him, your knees crashing against his. “Hiiiii.” 
“No rizz, huh?” his voice is barely a murmur. 
“Ummm,” you glance over to your set up where the be right back glows. Wonwoo follows your line of sight before dropping his gaze back to you, eyes asking a question. “Do you… want to?”
Elation falls across his face. “I’m down if you are. You know that.” 
Chewing your lip, you smile and nod. You’ve long been planning to reveal that the two of you have been dating for a long time, and the present feels right. Not to mention the implication of him ending the stream and you slamming the be right back on at the same time. 
Wonwoo leans down and grabs the arms of your computer chair, spinning it around and pushing you back into the frame. He leans over your shoulder, the smell of sandalwood and lavender enveloping you, making your head spin. He hits the hotkey to turn your stream and mic back on. 
Your eyes drop to where you’re displayed in the camera, Wonwoo leans against the back of your chair, chest pressed to your shoulder as he grins at the camera. Your thighs clench, seeing that same cocky smirk you’re used to making a brief appearance on camera. 
“Sorry chat,” Wonwoo announces. “Sorry Cheol, Mingyu. I have to handle the disrizzspect going on in my own home. Say byeeee to chat, Angel.” 
“Byeeee,” you squeak on instinct, watching as he waves while your comments explode. He closes out the stream and cuts off the Discord call where Seungcheol and Mingyu are screeching, shutting down your computer entirely so there’s no chance for accidents. 
Stomach fluttering, you take off your headphones and look up at Wonwoo to find he’s already staring down at you, dark eyes hungry. You slide down a little in your chair, feeling your mouth go dry. You got what you wanted, but now that he’s there and you can feel the intensity crackling between you, you can’t help but balk just a little.
“What?” he asks, lips twitching at the corner. “Rizz got your tongue?” 
“I guess maybe you have a little rizz.”
“Ohhh, I see.” Wonwoo pulls your seat backward, spinning your chair around so that you face the bed. He lets go of the chair and walks backward, sitting on the edge of your bed. You stare at him, heart beating, breath quickening. “Now that there’s no one here I have rizz.” 
You pout. “It’s our brand.”
“Mhmm.” He leans back on your bed, the mattress dimpling under his weight. He pats his thigh with one hand. “You just love getting under my skin, don’t you?”
You climb out of your computer chair, stumbling a little as the blood starts to flow from where they were crisscrossed. He tsks at you as you regain your footing, padding over to where he sits, legs spread, thighs straining against his athletic shorts. 
Carefully, you climb into his lap. Your body buzzes as you settle over him, one knee on either side of his hips. You lean your weight into him, hands resting on top of his shoulders. Even through his hoodie, you can feel how warm his skin is. 
“Are you happy now?” 
“Huh?” 
One of his hands leaves the bed and cracks against your ass, starling you. You squeak and lean forward, the sting making your eyelids flutter. “You’re not even listening, are you?” 
“I wasn’t.” 
His hand kneads your ass through your shorts, soothing the sting from the slap. “I asked, are you happy now? Did you get what you wanted?” You nodded, letting your head hang down, burying your face in his neck. It’s warm and safe there, your thoughts sticky as his hand continues to explore your ass. “Remember when I said use your words like a big girl?”
“Yes. Yes, I got what I wanted.”
“And what was it you wanted?”
When you hesitate to answer, too focused on your slamming heart and stuttered breathing, his hand comes down across your ass again. You curse, melting into him, letting him bear your weight entirely. “Wanted to rile you up.”
“It worked.”
“I can tell.” 
Wonwoo’s hand trails to the edge of your shorts, fingers dancing along your thighs. You’re hype aware of his touch and the way it sends fire through you, stomach in knots and cunt aching between your legs as he fingers the hem of your shorts. 
“Is it okay that I interrupted your stream?”
The question is so much softer than he was a second ago. You lift your head to look at him. His face swims into focus, a momentary flicker of nervousness. Wonwoo is rarely impulsive, but the move to announce your rivalry is more romantic than most people knew was unplanned and spur of the moment. 
“It’s definitely okay. Is it okay with you?”
He nods, leaning forward to run his nose up the side of your neck. He inhales, taking in your scent and humming while the hand running along your shorts pulls at the fabric. “Just wanted to make sure you wouldn’t be upset.”
“No. Now the people in your chat know you’re mine.”
“Yours?” His mouth brushes against the hollow of your throat, hot and wet. Your head tilts back, lips parting as his tongue flicks against your skin. “Just wanted to claim me, is that it?”
“Your fans are horny?”
He nips your neck and a moan drips from you. “Yours aren’t?” 
“Not like yours.” 
“Too bad for them. There’s only one angel who can get under my skin.” Wonwoo takes you by the waist and rolls you over. Your breath leaves you in a huff as your back hits the mattress. He leans over you, knees caging you in on either side of your hips as he presses his mouth to your jawline, sucking kisses up toward your ear. “Only one drawback - she thinks I have no rizz.” 
You bring your hands to the hem of his hoodie, desperate to feel him. Sliding your hands under the fabric, you press your palms against his stomach, feeling his muscle flex as his skin warms your hands. His mouth is wet against your skin, teeth nipping your earlobe teasingly, drawing a raspy sound from you. 
“I think,” you gasp as he drops a hand between your legs to press against your clothed cunt, “That she might be wrong about the rizz.”
Wonwoo’s fingers apply pressure, barely circling your clit through the fabric. It worsens the ache between your legs, your thoughts getting scattered as you squirm underneath him. He brings his mouth to yours, stealing a greedy kiss. 
This is the part of Wonwoo that you know only you see. Where the calm and collected gamer turns into an all consuming force, stealing the breath from your lungs as his tongue presses against yours. You kiss him back with equal want, whimpering into his mouth as he presses his fingers a little harder against you. 
“Please,” you breathe against his mouth between kisses. “I know I was mean but please.”
“Why should I?”
“Because I’m sorry!”
“Are you, though?” He mouths down your neck to your collarbone, the sting of his teeth soothed by the rough pass of his tongue. “You got exactly what you wanted and more.” 
“I ammmm.”
His laughter is rough. The hand between your legs comes up to the top of your shorts, dipping past the waistline to sink downward. He groans when he feels the dampness of your underwear, the way he’s already worked you up. 
“No rizz,” he mutters to himself. You throb when you feel his fingers pull your underwear to the side, knuckles running up your wet folds where he stops at your clit to press down. Your nails scrap against his abs, body tensing under the stimulation. “This is a wet fucking fucking pussy for someone who has no rizz.” 
You can’t think of a response, mind reeling as Wonwoo plays with you properly. You writhe in his hands, melting as his fingers brush up and down your slit before coming back up to gently circle your clit. Your feet kick a little under him, unable to sit still as he works you - teases you. 
Fuck you realize he might do this all night. 
“You have a lot of rizz,” you breath, pressing the back of your head into the bed, gasping in surprise as he sinks a finger into your entrance. Already you’re clenching down on him, wanting more. “Fuck.” 
“I don’t know… maybe I just… lack what you need.”
“No,” you answer quickly. “Just… ugh like that.” 
The ease at which he knows how to touch you makes everything feel tenfold. Wonwoo knows you like the back of your hand, both intimately and mentally. What had started as two streamers annoying one another had turned into friendship at some point - you’d met him at a convention and realized he was far gentler and softer than you imagine. 
That had turned into something further - something deeper. The want when you were around him was something that you hadn’t expected, but it hasn’t gone away since. Even though you get to have him like this, finger stroking your inner walls and palm pressed against your clit, you always want more. Can’t stop wanting him. 
“Want,” you mutter, the only word you can think of. You feel the smile pressed against your skin, the wetness slicking his fingers as he presses in a second, stretching you. Your hips can’t off the bed but he pushes you back down, making you whine. 
“Why should I?” 
“Cause.”
“Not a good enough answer.” 
Wonwoo starts to retract his hand and you scramble, digging your nails into his hip to claw him back toward you. “Cause I love you.” 
“Closer…” 
“Cause I want you.”
“So close.”
“Cause I need you.” 
He hums in thought. “Good enough. Help me take these fucking shorts off.” 
Wonwoo pulls his hand out of your shorts and leans upward. You rip your hands from his hoodie to slide your shorts off, peeling your underwear down as you do. He taps you on the thigh, fingers sticky from your arousal as he shifts higher. You know what he’s asking, scooting backward on the mattress to give yourself more real estate.
His mouth comes back down to yours, lips soft. You love kissing him, tongue tangling as you bring your hands up to slide your fingers through his hair. He makes an appreciative sound, one hand supporting his weight as he hovers over you while the other slots back between your legs to resume where he left off.
Unrestricted by your shorts, he’s able to thrust his fingers properly. Your gasps break his kisses, hips rolling to meet the stroke of his fingers. He’s always been skilled with his hands, able to peel you apart, pressing the pads of his fingers into that sweet spot over and over again. 
His thumb presses against your clit, adding stimulation as he moves it from side to side slowly, aided by the wetness gathered there. You let yourself get lost in him, pressure tightening in your stomach as you climb toward an orgasm. 
Your hands are everywhere - pulling at his hair, pulling at his shoulders, pulling at his arms. He lets you grip at him, lets you squirm beneath his ministrations, letting you have free reign. It’s a favor to you, in a way. He’s letting you get away with your earlier teasing, not drawing it out like he’s known to do, not making you beg.
Moans bracket the wet sound his fingers make in your cunt as he works you to the edge. Your breaths come out in short hisses behind clenched teeth and your thighs squeeze his hand. He’s unfettered, laughing roughly against your ear, breath hot.
“What would your chat say?” he asks. “Huh? What would they say if they knew you fell apart like this? That your cunt melts around my fingers.”
“Fuck,” you whisper, so close to your orgasm that your ears are starting to buzz. 
“All this time they thought we were frenemies. Have no idea I get to have you like this whenever I want.”
“I’m gonna-”
“Yeah, you’re gonna.” His fingers press harder, the pressure mounting further. “Gonna come all over my fingers, yeah? Just like you always do?” 
You do. 
Everything comes together in one, cohesive snap. You arch into him, muscles squeezing, teeth clenched, eyes shut. It feels good when you unravel, coming around his fingers as they fuck you through it, determind to extend your high for as long as he can. 
Your breathing is ragged by the time you start to come down, shirt sticking to your skin and neck and face flushed as you try to escape him. He laughs a little, hand slowing until his fingers are still inside you, pressed deep. 
When you open your eyes, the room is spinning. It takes you a second to focus on him. His head is hanging, gaze focused where his fingers are still shoved in your pussy. You can see your arousal shining on his wrist and feel where you drip down the curve of your ass. 
“A lot of cum for someone with no rizz,” he notes, lifting his head to grin at you. 
“Oh shut up.” 
“Oh?”
He retracts his hand and you make a pitiful sound at the loss. He stands up, suddenly leaving you cold and shivering. He brings his fingers to his mouth absently, popping them between rosy lips as he sucks your fluid off easily, making an appreciative sound. 
“I mean if you want me to leave-”
“No, no! No need for that.” He smirks. “You’re already… here and stuff.”
“And stuff.” 
Rolling his eyes, he peels the hoodie up and over his head. You watch, suddenly entranced by the blue tint on his tan skin and the way his muscles flex when he leans to kick off his sweats. Wonwoo is beautiful, his body made up of equal parts streamlined edges and softness. 
Sleeper build, you’d joke the first time you saw him shirtless. On stream, he’s always hidden in baggy shirts and hoodies. You’d never realized he was hiding a body that was at peak athletic form, oversized clothing giving way to rippling arms and a hard chest. 
Naked, he shuffles back to the bed. You let him pull you out of your top, thankful for the warmth of his hands skating over your chilled skin. Your nipples tighten in the cool air, your toes curling at the sensation as you lay back on the bed and look up at him.
Haloed by blue light, Wonwoo looks like some sort of demon or angel. You’re not sure - perhaps he’s equal parts. His hands reach behind your thighs and lift, pressing your legs upward toward your chest. The stretch feels good but it also pries you open, making you writhe when you feel the weight of his cock on your pussy. 
“Hold yourself open for me,” he murmurs gently. Your hands reach behind the back of your knees, pulling. He gives you a lopsided grin, leaning over you to press his weight into the backs of your thighs, helping. “Stay just like that, fuck.” 
You do as he says. You have no other choice, especially when he presses the head of his cock into your entrance, sinking in slowly. You let out a loan moan shaped in his name as he presses in, the fit tight and the pressure delirious. 
Wonwoo bottoms out, holding himself to you, hips to ass for a second. He presses in all of his weight, the mattress creaking under you as he does. He drops his chin to his chest, curses as he takes a few deep breaths, chest heaving. 
You fuck him up too. You know it and you love it, watching as he looks up at you, eyes glazed over with lust, but still full of love. It simmers right at the surface, so obvious that you wonder how anyone could ever not see it when it’s right there.
Slowly, he starts to move. You suck in a breath, head falling to the side. Your fingers ache where you grip your thighs, knuckles shaking. A light sheen of sweat wicks your legs, making your hold slip a little. It’s okay, though. Wonwoo leans into you, keeping you pried open as his hips fuck into you at a steady pace. 
Each thrust feels like it punches the air from your lungs. You draw in deep breaths when you remember, otherwise distracted with the way he crowds you in, crushing you to the mattress. The feeling of him is insane, your thoughts cobwebbing together, the only word you can think of being his name. 
He pants, his arms scooping around your shoulders to pull you into him. A curse leaves your mouth. He’s got you folded in half, no escape from the drill of his hips, the air turning to static between you. Wonwoo is pressed close and you somehow wish you were closer, wanting to drop the grip on your thighs to hold him instead.
Wonwoo reads you like a book. “Go ahead,” he hisses between thrusts. 
“Thank you,” you gasp, dropping your legs in favor of sliding your hands through his sweaty hair, nails scratching his scalp. You feel him shiver and you do it again, pulling his face to you so that you can brush your mouth against his, barely a kiss. “Fuuuuuuck, Wonwoo I-”
“I know.” 
“Close close close.”
He doesn’t pick up his pace but he throws his weight into you more, fucking you deep and hard. You see stars, squeezing your eyes shut as you slide against one another, muscles aching, lungs screaming. You feel like you can’t breathe but you don’t care, skating the line of your second orgasm so close.
Your heart pounds in your ears. Your breath scrapes your throat. There is a moment of absolute nothing but white noise and then you’re crashing, slamming into your orgasm with enough force to knock your head with his when you lurch forward.
It doesn’t even hurt, the electric pleasure outweighing the knock to your head as his fingers dig into your shoulders, cradling you harder as he pistons faster, getting himself to peak. You go limp, held tilted back as he growls your name and loses a rhythm, breath hissing between his teeth. 
For a moment everything is disjointed until he slows to a stop, letting you unfold but pressing his body down onto yours. His weight is comforting, grounding you as your thoughts wander, a little confused and without navigation as your system reboots from the orgasm, tired and staticky. 
Wonwoo kisses your jaw lightly, a gentle contrast to seconds ago when he folded you in half. 
Slowly, he slides to the side, giving you room to breathe. Your body is slick all over - especially between your legs - and the room cools your over-warm skin. You crane your neck to face him, eyes fluttering open as you come back to, a little more lucid. 
His dark eyes find yours and he grins before tossing an arm over your waist just to keep you connected. You place your hand on his arm, returning the gesture, just wanting to touch him. 
“I think I died,” you joke, voice rough. “God.” 
“Yeah? Hey chat,” Wonwoo hums, a grin splitting his face. “How about that for rizz?” 
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megapocalypse · 4 months ago
Text
AU where Shen Yuan plays a PIDW otome spin-off game where you date all the male characters and he decides to give it a shot because he heard Luo Binghe's characterization was really good in it. He's a hardcore LBH fanboy and he can't pass this chance up, but it's one of those games in which you need to unlock guys by finishing the first few and because LBH is the protagonist he's not only locked behind another character but he's also paywalled and his route is extremely difficult.
Shen Yuan ends up spending 100+ hours into this game and trying to explore all the routes and side quests, he's gotten almost all the secret endings for every guy and he's maxed the dlc characters.
LQG - One of the first love interests. You meet him when you find him poisoned, you protect him from a three headed snake monster and he's deeply indebted to you.
MQF - Unlocked via LQG's route, you get him when your MC has to take LQG to get healed.
GYX - He helps you on a mission to Bailu Forest, only romancable once you unlock the Huan Hua area.
YQY - Unlocked after you complete the good routes of all the romancable peak lords of CQM. His good ending is extremely hard to get.
ZHL - Unlockable after you romance GYX, he's a dlc character.
TLJ - Also a dlc character, you can romance him once you've completed every character's route.
SJ - Arguably the hardest romance route, almost all options lead to the bad ending and you really have to be specific with which routes you choose for your New Game + playthrough. Not to mention he has a secret ending that's even harder to unlock.
Now Shen Yuan has FINALLY gotten to LBH, you meet him through SJ's route as a white lotus disciple, but you have to romance SJ and TLJ before you can romance him. In his bad ending he kills you for siding with CQM, the neutral ending you become part of the harem. You can only unlock the good ending by unlocking SJ's secret ending. The good ending you get an option to tell LBH your feelings, it's an experimental game mechanic where you can literally type out a response. Some people may shit post on this section, but SY puts down his real and genuine thoughts out towards LBH. LBH then asks SY to promise him that they would stay together forever, and SY chooses the yes option.
Okay so new game plus time, SY got through all the endings now he needs to replay to get the super uper duper ng+ secret endings, so he plays the game normally just speeding through with the first love interest, Liu Qingge; but as he's on the rank 7 love confession scene, the game suddenly crashes and he has to reboot the game. His save file got erased so he just plays again normally, but for some reason it keeps veering him towards Luo Binghe's route, when he meets him during Jinlan City...
Every time he tries to get the other routes his save file crashes, or it would just go right to Luo Binghe's route. He looks it up on the Internet to see how to fix the bug... Nobody else is having this problem.
So he just decides to keep going with the Luo Binghe route again since he liked it so much, and he gets back to the true ending where he promises Binghe he'll stay with him forever. But then, suddenly there's an error message on the screen saying "System Reboot: initializing" and when it fully loads it says "Welcome User 002, to Proud Immortal Demon Way". And then the power cuts out, Shen Yuan is a little startled and confused until he feels an electric jolt. He falls limply to the ground, and wakes up in a new world.
A pop up screen shows up in front of him
Select your Name
________ ________
It's the PIDW start up screen.
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Okay my brain is fuzzed but basically SY gets doki doki fucked and transmigrates into the game. Luo Binghe is a yandere who keeps trying to mess with the system, maybe he kills a few guys just to be silly 😜. Yada yada that's all I got.
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aphroditelovesu · 11 months ago
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Yandere Apollo w/Soulmate!Reader Headcanons (Romantic)
❝ ☀️ — lady l: Who asked for soulmate au with Apollo? It's more of a soft yandere, but I hope you like these hcs! 💞
❝tw: soulmate au, obsessive and possessive behavior, soft!yandere, implied death.
❝☀️pairing: yandere!apollo x gender neutral!reader.
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Apollo always wanted someone to love, someone he could pour out all the love he held inside, be completely devoted to that person and be completely theirs. Apollo always wanted to be loved unconditionally and in return he would love with everything in him.
He wanted more than anything to find his soulmate. The true person he belonged to, the person he would spend all eternity with.
Apollo desperately searched for love, in search of his soulmate, the person who would complete him. He had several affairs, hoping that one of them would complete the missing part of him, but it always ended in tragedy and he knew that none of his past lovers were his soulmate.
So he remained alone for centuries, hoping to one day find the one to whom his heart and soul belonged. Apollo sometimes spent his days wandering among humans, hoping to bump into his love, but that never happened. He was tired. He had become desperate for love, to be loved and this shaped him completely. Apollo was no longer the same.
Until one day he found his soulmate. He found you. The person he had searched for for centuries, the half of himself that was missing. His soulmate.
Apollo would never forget the day he discovered that you were his soulmate. The way his heart began to pound in his chest, his breathing became heavy and his hands sweaty. Soulmate, was all his mind screamed.
During yet another of his pointless visits to humans, Apollo found himself walking aimlessly somewhere when he felt something different. Something inside him clicks, something connecting him to somewhere or someone. He followed what was calling him and was breathless when he discovered what it was.
Among lush forests and bustling cities, he saw a young human with a radiant aura, enveloped by the essence of wisdom and compassion. He saw you and saw the red thread of destiny that connected you. You were his soulmate.
Delighted and stunned by the discovery, the god approached disguised as an ordinary human man, wanting to get to know that luminous soul better. You welcomed him with open arms, eager to discover more about this mysterious man and why he enchanted you so much. It was only after a few weeks together that Apolo revealed the truth. He was a god and you were his soulmate. You felt like you might cry at that moment.
You have always wanted to find your soulmate, all your friends have already found the missing part of them, except you. And your soulmate was not only the most handsome man you've ever seen but also a Greek god, literally. You hugged him tightly and kissed him. Soon you were both undressed and sweaty, the love shining through and the consummation of your bond was made. You were officially soulmates.
Everything was rosy at first, but eventually, Apollo changed. His fear, and his trauma of being alone for so long changed him. He became more possessive and controlling every day. You started to feel suffocated. Apollo, however, didn't care.
He tried to compensate for his possessive tendencies towards you with presents, from jewelry to gifts that he could bestow upon you, in addition to giving you the gift of immortality. He wouldn't lose you to anyone, not even the god of death.
Your soul was linked to his, linked by the thread of destiny that united you as one. It said that Zeus was the one who separated humans from their soulmates and Apollo was so happy that he finally found you that all that mattered to him was that you stayed with him. After all, you were destined to be together.
Apollo's love had become increasingly possessive and needy, the god demanded you all the time. He became clingy, not wanting to be away from you. He's already spent too much time away from you, he wouldn't do it again.
How delirious he was could not be said, but felt. You felt the fear, the dread that Apollo had of losing you and that was what made you susceptible to the god's manipulation. He's just in love with his soulmate. That's why he acts like this.
That's how you end up stuck with your soulmate for all eternity. But for Apollo, in the warmth of true love, they transcended the boundaries between the divine and the mortal, uniting as soulmates destined to remain together for eternity.
Thus, the Greek god found his soulmate, a union that shone with the light of the gods and the purity of human hearts that would later be contaminated by the obsession that controlled him. There's no else to go but his side.
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is-this-even-relatable · 4 months ago
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Danny runs an Infinite Realms shop. Curiosities from every dimension, any culturally significant item lost to time, and some cheap china. He’s got it all~
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NEW FIC IDEA JUST DROPPED
Ok so i’ve been steeped in the dpxdc for many a year now. I've seen a bit of everything. I want to combine some of those ideas with a bit of my own headcanon and see what takes shape.
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Danny, half dead and half alive, one of the rarest species in existence, grown up yet still so young considering his immortality, powerful sovereign of an infinite dimension of beings from every possible world and universe, decides to settle somewhere and take it slow. After all, he's got eternity to do so.
So he finds a dimension he thought could only exist in comic books, and thought to himself, Now this, this is a nice place to settle. He loves how many heroes there are in this world, heck there are even aliens! Yet there are many heroes for a reason. With so many dark forces in the universe, it had to produce many bright beacons of hope to balance the encroaching evil. That is another reason why he chose this particular dimension, and this particular city. There was just so much negative energy, too much, in fact, that the heroes in this city, Gotham, could not keep up. He hoped that over the next century or however long he remained in this dimension, that his presence would provide a much-needed balm to the area, and that the sickly dark fingers of cosmic corruption would lessen. If not, well, he could always take a more direct approach. After all, he had the power of infinite universes backing him, one measly dimension’s worth of corruption against him would be like a minnow trying to catch a shark.
With a little bit of time travel shenanigans (thanks, Clockwork!), Danny soon has a perfectly legal identity as one Daniel James Fenton-Phantom, 30 years old (he figures he can pass as such, even though he stopped aging around 25), from a random town in bumfuck Illinois (sue him, it’s familiar). And after a bit of researching, Danny chooses a small street in the rougher side of the city. Not too big to be deemed as suspicious for buying practically the whole block, and out of the way enough to not attract too much attention. He spends a couple weeks getting used to the energy in this new dimension and setting up his haunt. He cleaned up what he was now referring to as “his street” in his head, and got rid of the debris, trash and general wear from the buildings. He hired some locals to renovate one, an old apartment that he was planning on renting out and staying in. He also chose a smaller building, somewhat tucked away in the corner, to use as his own personal store. The rest he leased out for cheap to small and struggling local businesses. He figured it’s the least he could do after already occupying so much space.
Several days later, and voila, his home was set.
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queers-gambit · 1 month ago
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Tower Scrolls
prompt: during the Siege of Eregion, Elrond barters for his fiancé's life, and her life's work.
pairing: Elrond x intended!female!reader
fandom masterlist: The Rings of Power
word count: 4.1k+
note: brain go wonky, don't take this too serious
warnings: we got angst! we got drama! we got spoilers! i think it's more hurt and comfort, but to each their own! there's cursing, character injury, canon-complicit character death, blood, depiction of abuse and torture, violence, is this a reader insert? i don't know anymore, but i think so. oneshot, filler, very abrupt ending.
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Fire rained from the sky. Ash snowed on once white-sand buildings. Tension permeated the air. Blood irrigated soil.
Eregion was under attack.
Elves screamed in despair, Orcs snarled from outside the city walls, and no matter where you turned, you were trapped in this never ending barrage of violent misfortune. To the best of your ability, you manned the city walls and ordered the citizens of Eregion to find shelter, tunnel out of the city, or pick up arms and fight - fight for their homes, their families, their lives.
It was nearly a natural succession of power after dedicating majority of your life to Eregion and Lord Celebrimbor; a common presence, friendly face, such an outstanding ally that few hesitated to take your command. Yet you were met with resistance, some Elves rejecting your orders in favor of this "Annatar, Lord of Gifts," apparently sent from the Valar themselves to aid Celebrimbor in his creative work. They thought he was Lord of Eregion now, and since you were loyal to the previous Lord - who Annatar claimed had lost his ever sharp mind - you were looked upon with the same frown.
So, you did the only thing you thought you could do.
You protected your Lord, almost to the extent of your life. Too many had already fallen, you refused to follow; insisting on remaining with Lord Celebrimbor for the duration of his efforts so long as Annatar was in Eregion. The immortal being wasn't keen on the idea, but Celebrimbor was much soothed around you - so, he agreed, on the condition that your Lord finish his work on the Nine Rings.
After escaping before, Annatar thought the best suited idea would be to chain Lord Celebrimbor to his work bench; knowing you did not have the means to break him free and feeling it was a safe move. However, as you witnessed, the will of the Lord of Eregion was by far stronger than that of The Deceiver.
"I cannot!" You begged your Master. "No, you will not ask this of me! The audacity you possess - "
"You must!" Celebrimbor insisted, taking your cheeks in hand to smush your lips in a pucker. "Listen to me - listen! You have always known right from wrong, but now is not a time for rationality, it's a time for action. He mustn't get the Rings, I need you to run with them. Run away - far, far away from here, use the tunnels - "
"I will not abandon you," you snarled, "nor will I abandon this city, not while she still stands!"
"This is bigger than us, bigger than Eregion," Celebrimbor tried to convey his severity, forcing the Rings in your hand - but you were stubborn. For all the traits he loved, he despised your pigheadedness the most - despite admiring it once upon a time. So, he managed to convince you to cut just his thumb off after originally asking you to take the whole hand so the cuff could slide off, but he downgraded to just his digit for the same desired effect.
"Go," you begged him, tears in your eyes as you wrapped his hand with a clean(ish) cloth to staunch the bleeding. "Go, please, before He returns. Do not look back, my Lord."
"Come with me - "
"I'll hold Him off to give you more time. Now, go. Go!"
It wasn't easy, but Celebrimbor left you behind. No sooner had you confirmed his escape did Annatar return; surveying the workshop and you with sinister eyes.
"Where is he?"
"With luck? Far from here. With hope? Even past that," you answered, stood in the middle of the room - looking as if nothing could phase you. All a lie, of course, but Sauron didn't need to know you were close to pissing your pants out of sheer intimidation. "So... You're Him? I have to admit," you gestured at him, "it's a bit of a let down."
"I have many names - "
"Oh, spare me the personal lore all of Middle-earth knows," you snipped, offering a stale look. "You need a new story."
However, Sauron smirked and circled you, taunting, "I know you know where he went. I know you know where the Rings are, too."
"Then have a look in my mind, see for yourself," you smirked back, "go ahead and see that I purposefully did not ask and my Lord did not tell. Go on, if you do not believe me, have a look and know you are wrong - " You were cut off by your own gasp when Sauron's eyes rolled before he brandished a sword to pierce through your foot and into the floor.
"Where. Is. He?" Sauron seethed in your face; hot breath fanning the fly away hairs.
"Away from you," you managed to grit, the sword in too deep to yank free by yourself. "You'll never find them," you laughed without humor when Sauron's anger got the best of him; storming through the workshop, tearing it apart, searching in vain for Nine Rings that were not there. In his anger, you obtained a series of fresh blemishes as he threw anything he could to the sound of your amusement.
Yet any glimmer of hope in your chest was doused, all traces of faith and humor vanishing when guards lead Celebrimbor back into the workshop; discovering the destroyed forge and you, pinned by a bloody foot in the midst. You couldn't move from your place as the guards surrounded Sauron with the intention to apprehend him, yet you saw the threat before anyone else. You begged the guards, your kin, your brethren, to back away, to take your Lord and flee! You begged them to run. You begged them to listen, to hear you!
But it was too late.
Sauron turned your people on one another and had them slaughter each other before disposing of the final guard himself. You screamed at Celebrimbor to run, nearly tearing the blade through bone as you attempted to reach for the man who had taught you your entire life. The man who gave you a chance. The man who built you a home. The man who introduced you to your intended. The man you loved like a father.
But Sauron's grasp extended to all.
Celebrimbor was beaten senseless, the Dark Lord trying to pry information about the Nine from him by any means. Yet your Lord did not budge... And that's when Sauron turned to you. "Please, no! Don't! She doesn't know anything! I swear, please, spare her!" Celebrimbor pleaded when Sauron ripped the sword from your foot before knocking you to your knees; bowstring pulled back, arrow armed and aimed at your calf. "She doesn't know amything!" Celebrimbor screamed as your first tear fell.
"But you do," Sauron narrated, loosing the arrow into your flesh. You tried to subdue your screams, but the immortal took to alternating between shooting you and Celebrimbor with arrows; though his struck lethally, yours struck painfully. To Sauron, you were a plaything; a token to negotiate with, attempting to withdraw information by offering you harm, thinking it was enough to break Celebrimbor.
He was mistaken.
You panted as blood dribbled from the corner of your mouth, wincing as Sauron's boot came down on your knee; smearing his heel into an open wound with you flat on your back. "She... She doesn't know," Celebrimbor tried again. "She is... She's the Lady of Eregion now, and I would not curse her with such a burden as you have me!"
"Oh, a promotion?" Sauron mused, glancing at you - but you saw his underlying desperation.
"Eregion is no more," you whispered, head lulling on the floor to meet Celebrimbor's eyes and smile sadly. Blood lined your teeth. "It would've been the honor of my life should I have been able to defend your city, my Lord."
"Our city."
"How touching," Sauron's eyes rolled.
"She doesn't know," Celebrimbor repeated in anger.
"I know," Sauron nodded, "I looked in her mind. Still, the bond between you is greater - perhaps, you'd be more inclined to share with her?"
"He'd never," you chuckled in delirium, "he'd never sacrifice this world for the likes of you." Another arrow thumped into your shoulder, making you groan as Sauron angrily tossed the bow aside. Fearing your life was soon to be extinguished, you whispered, "I-I'm so sorry, my Lord. I failed you."
"No, do not say such a thing," Celebrimbor insisted, Sauron stalking over you before squatting in front of the Elven smith, "for it is I who failed you..."
Sauron sighed, sounding condescending yet soft as he reached over to stroke Celebrimbor's cheek, "Look what you have done to yourself."
You didn't care for his poisoned words, knowing your time was limited - just like Celebrimbor's. Yet the Dark Lord tried one last tactic: mercy. He promised to end your joint suffering should the location of the Nine be revealed. Your Lord was defiant still. So, Sauron tried gaslighting, and when that didn't work, he begged, "Please."
Still, it did not work and Celebrimbor affirmed his time was ending... So, naturally, after he plucked up a spear, Sauron threatened, "There are ways of keeping you both alive." In Sindarin, he added, "Friend." To the look of horror on Celebrimbor's bloody face, Sauron offered, "Must I show you my mastery of that craft as well?"
"'Craft'?" Your Lord chuckled ruefully. Then he spat, "Your only craft is treachery. So pure, it shall betray the very hand that forges it."
Sauron stepped over your limp, bleeding form too casually, quietly seething, "Your words are empty."
"No," Celebrimbor insisted, sitting himself up slightly. "No, hear me. Hear me!" Your dimming eyes widened as your Lord found his feet, back against the stone pillar he had once slumped against as support. "Shadow of Morgoth! Hear the dying words of Celebrimbor! With only Y/N, Lady of Eregion as witness!" You didn't move, you couldn't... You were defeated, you knew there was no way Sauron would let you leave this tower alive. So, you listened and bore witness for as long as you were capable of doing so. "The Rings of Power shall destroy you. And in the end, I foresee one alone shall prove your," he shouted, "utter ruin!"
"NO!" You screamed when Sauron turned, shouting in anger as he strode over you and stabbed Celebrimbor with his spear. You could only watch in fearful disgust as the Dark Lord, still in fair form, hoisted the Lord of Eregion up the stone pillar as if a flag on a pole.
Celebrimbor was in obvious pain, mouth agape, blood dribbling from his slathered lips. Sauron's words were still heard despite the low, quiet register, "You're wrong. I am their Creator." He growled, "I am their Master!"
"No," Celebrimbor's head shook as if pitying the immortal. "You are their... Prisoner. Sauron, Lord..." He trailed as his life's light was snuffed, "of the Rings."
You let your grief manifest in tears, watching as Celebrimbor's eyes found yours - conveying his goodbye as he mouthed one last apology... Then deflating as his soul, as promised, vacated this form to return to the shores. You didn't voice your note of Sauron's single tear, just staring at your Lord in disbelief - until the Dark Lord planted the end of his spear to the ground, staking Celebrimbor above all.
"N-No, no, wait!" You begged, trying to turn over onto your stomach to pull yourself across the ground. "No, please, please, take him down - get him down from there! Please, do not - do not leave him up there!" You cried out as arrow shafts were irritated back to life, reaching blindly - helplessly - upward as if you could reach the Lord of Eregion from his hoist.
Sauron watched you for a moment, the Orcs heard marching up the tower. With a swift swing of his leg, Sauron kicked your jaw - effectively knocking you out and overturning your body to your back; splayed out as if on display... Similar, but not akin, to Celebrimbor - whose pooling blood soaked into your gown.
Through your unconsciousness, Sauron eventually ordered Eregion be razed to the ground, every Elf slaughtered, and the Elven leaders be brought before him - unharmed. He gave specific instruction for every scroll in Celebrimbor's workshop to be torched; his way of punishing you for your insolence over supporting and protecting Celebrimbor.
When you awoke, the tower was quiet. You stiffly lifted your hand to your jaw; rubbing it tenderly, letting your sight refocus and being acutely aware of every feeling in your body.
"Fuuuuuuuck," you whimpered, trying to sit up but being unable due to protruding arrows. You went limp again, feeling a single twinge of anger you had to wake up because your eyes caught sight of and stared at Celebrimbor.
You failed...
You gasped shrilly when hands seized your upper arms and heaved; lugging you over the shoulders of two Orcs as a third swiped at the arrows to break them in the most painful way possible. Considering their brutish nature, you would've thought they'd have lopped your head off and moved along - but instead, they began carrying you towards the door.
"Wha-What's happening?" You asked through a slur, feet dragging under you, spying one of the Orcs gathering scrolls and tomes you spent your life writing alongside Celebrimbor in their dirty arms. "Wait - wait - what're you doing? What're you doing!?"
"Quiet!" An Orc snarled, dropping the hilt of his dagger to the soft part of the base of your head where it connected to your neck. You were silent out of sheer pain.
Down the tower you were drug, brought into the devastated courtyard where Orcs snarled at you from all sides; the two that carried you dropping you on your shattered knees. You were held at knifepoint as Orcs streamed from the tower and dropped your scrolls and tomes in several different piles a short distance away. Head injury caused your sight to blur in and out, but you knew what they were doing... What they intended.
"Please, please, don't do this," you whimpered, hearing several Orcs laugh. "No... No, no, no, no, please! Don't - " You had no more fight as collectively, your records were so extensive that several piles were made, few set ablaze.
All around you, Elves were slaughtered mercilessly, bodies left behind where they fell; the sounds of the city dying with them as the Orcs ran out of the innocent lives to claim. You could only watch. Before you, the Orcs tossed banded lassos around the decorated statue of Faenor, evident their desecration knew no bounds.
Yet hope sparked... The blade at your neck tightening when you perked up upon seeing several Orcs leading few saved Elves into the courtyard - your fiancé one of them.
"Elrond!" You cried, the Orc snarling a hiss as the hand in your hair yanked back. You struggled to the point of blood draw when Elrond's sight casted on you - trying to escape his captors, but being held back.
"Y/N!" He called back, the High King Gil-galad at his side and finding you amongst the rubble, too. The King muttered something you couldn't hear, but to Elrond, he understood the Sindarin word: wait.
"Hey!" You snapped, blade drawing a line of blood from your neck; pressure mounting as he pressed closer. You growled in annoyance.
Faenor toppled to the ground, shattering the heart of any Elf left to witness - Orcs mounting him, ravaging for hidden and seen treasures. With Gil-galad, Elrond, and other survivors, the Orcs moved inward as if to ensure the Elves had a front row viewing to the incineration of their culture.
"Y/N," Gil-galad called to attention, earning several snarls and hisses, "where is Lord Celebrimbor?"
"Dead," you whimpered, Orc growling at you in reprimand.
Elrond's eyes swept over the scene and swiftly understood the impending doom. The largest of the scroll piles was before the Elves now, an Orc pacing around it with his torch alight, tears down your cheeks as you couldn't look away as if in a trance you did not realize.
"No, Uruk! No!" Elrond begged when the Orc went to drop the flame; you struggling against your captor, both hands around his meaty wrist.
"No!" Gil-galad's beg echoed around you.
"That is the full record of Celebrimbor's works," Elrond tried to make the Orcs understand potential ramifications. "The wisdom of all who ever dwelt in this place, all accounted by the Lady Y/N, whose work cannot be found outside Eregion! Its value is beyond jewels or even blood! Take our lives," Elrond gestured to himself and the King, you struggling again on horridly abused knees, "but leave it be, I beg you."
Perhaps you were far too used to people listening when your fiancé spoke because you eagerly sat forward best you could while thinking perhaps the Orcs would listen to Elrond. Imagine your acute and heavy despair when the Orc laughed manically and turned to shove the torch into the bundle of fragile parchment. "NO!" You sobbed uselessly, watching the last of your life's work go up in flame.
You fought against the Orc's grip as Gil-galad snarled, "Cowardly traitors!"
"You fucking bastards!" Your head reared back to (painfully - nobody wins with a headbutt) break the Orc's nose. He released you as other Orcs were wrestling Gil-galad to the ground, able to pick up a blade and take out three too-close enemies.
It was the first time Elrond heard such language fall from your lips, but all he could register was the Orc punching you in the jaw in an attempt to subdue you - blood spitting to the side, seemingly darkening a bruise already blooming. He's never felt such rage.
Elrond fought with his bare hands; elbowing the Orcs behind him, punching the ones before him, fighting to get closer to you. He got ahold of a torch, screaming in white-hot anger as he set the Orc that hit you ablaze; dropping the torch and taking you into his embrace.
"My love," he breathed in your ear, able to peck your cheek just as the snarling Orcs forcefully ripped you out of his arms. "No, no!" He tried to reach out for you, but both were wrangled in.
"Please, don't! NO! No, no, no!" You gasped when Elrond was taken in custody, yet it wasn't you who saved him.
Another Orc reminded, "No! Lord Sauron wanted their leaders unharmed."
"Well, what about her? She looks injured," A different Orc growled, jostling your shoulder and pointing his dagger at your throat. Elrond was forced to his knees as you were, facing one another.
"Lord Sauron did that, said to discipline her should she resist," the Orc answered in a hiss, others shoving more Elves into the courtyard - including Arondir from the battlefield. A blade was held to Elrond's throat as your head bowed in the heat of the bonfire; being ripped up by your hair and forced to turn to watch the flames. The Orcs noticed the pair of you seemingly cared more about the literature than your lives, so, they thought you should relish in this moment.
So Elrond was held in a similar position, but his sight was on you; watching you crumple into despair while more Orcs tossed the last of the scrolls into the flames. Your life, since a youthful student, had been spent intermittently in Eregion under the care of Lord Celebrimbor, whom you thought of as an adoptive father, learning heraldry. He let you work at his side, keeping accurate, detailed record of his philosophies, ideas, processes, and creations for the histories. Yet, now, they wafted into the air as ash - lost to this Age, never to be recovered or duplicated or seen again.
Once more, you dropped your head, earning a backhand to the temple. Gritting your teeth, you let the Orc force your head up but shut your eyes tightly, defiantly; hearing their breathing turn ragged. "Cut her eyelids open!" An Orc barked.
"That's not what Lord Sauron said," another seethed with refusal.
"She's resisting!"
An Orc scoffed and stabbed your thigh with a dagger, eyes flying open as you gasped in pain. "There! See!" It laughed, holding you in a chokehold as tears leaked down your cheeks. Elrond struggled and shuddered against his captors, hating the sight of you dismantling yourself emotionally, but to witness your abuse, he hated more.
Then, from a short distance, a horn bellowed.
"Dwarves!" King Gil-galad identified, the Elves rejuvenated by the surprise (and delayed) arrival of aid. In tandem, they began to resist; yourself included by ripping the dagger from your thigh and driving it into your captor's ribs; praying flesh came too when the blade was ripped free.
He grunted and shoved you forward onto your chest and hands, able to flop over to watch your approaching demise - only to discover Elrond surging up to the Orc and snapping its neck with his bare hands.
"Elrond!" You gasped when the Orc fell to the side... Dead.
"C'mere," the half-Elf you intended to marry panted, reaching down to yank you onto your bloody feet; catching you on his chest when your weight buckled. "I got you, I've got you, love, you're safe," he whispered, hoisting you into his embrace before turning for the stream of Dwarves. "Durin!" He greeted jovially.
But when the Dwarf turned, it wasn't the ginger prince Elrond knew like a brother. The dark haired Dwarf heaved a sigh, informing, "The Prince... Is in mourning," before rushing off into the fray.
"'Mourning'?" You repeated in a daze. "Over Disa?"
"His father, perhaps?" Elrond guessed, tightening his arms to lift you and turn away from an Orc rushing forward. He blocked the enemy's advance, trying to keep secure hold of you - leaving an opportunity for you to use the last of your strength to drive your dagger (still in hand) into the Orc's throat. "Good girl," Elrond praised as the creature fell, panting from exhaustion. "Can you still fight?"
"I can barely stand on my own, Elrond," you whimpered, gripping his neck and shoulders in a vice grip to remain upright.
He nodded, "Right." With a sniffle, he lifted you again and rushed for an alcove, depositing you in rubble before caressing your face. "How bad?" He asked softly.
"Enough."
"Let me see - "
"Elrond, there's no time," you snatched his hands when he attempted to reach for your skirt, "the city is under attack, it's falling to Sauron - you need to help them. Go, go fight."
"I won't leave you."
Your ears rang with the same words you told Celebrimbor.
"You have to, this is bigger than any of us," you repeated what you'd been told.
"Elrond!" Gil-galad was heard calling, Arondir appearing in the mouth of the alcove.
"Over here!"
When the High King arrived, he paused to take in the sight of the pair of you. "Good," he panted, "you're both alive. The Dwarves are aiding our escape, we must leave now... The city is fallen," he directed at you.
"You should all go," you sniffled.
With confusion, Elrond snapped, "Without you?"
"I've business to see to in the tower."
"The tower will fall," Arondir explained, slowly lowering to a squat to put himself on your level. "Whatever you think is left is lost, my Lady."
"Celebrimbor's in there. I was taken before I could get him down."
"'Down'?" Gil-galad repeated, "What does that mean?"
Tears filled your eyes, telling the trio what Sauron did to you and your Lord; the King insisting hope was lost and it was time to go. "I cannot walk," you whispered, shaking your head, "and my injuries surpass - "
"I will carry you," Elrond rushed, holding your cheek gently, "I will not leave you behind."
"No... She will walk," Gil-galad stepped forward, revealing his Ring of Power, Vilya. You were unsure what his intention, but Elrond moved behind you to let you lean back into his chest as the King chanted his prayers.
Yet you passed out before fully healed.
"My King - "
"She's alive," Gil-galad soothed Elrond, the hand hosting Vilya laid to your forehead, "just exhausted. She's been through much, far more than I care to fathom. Sauron took it easy on her, he used mortal weapons against her."
"He didn't intend to kill her?" Arondir questioned.
"He needed her alive - whatever the reason," Gil-galad frowned.
"Will she wake?" Elrond worried.
"I have faith she will, trust in the Valar," the King nodded. "Now, if you intend to fight another day, we must go. Now."
And so, the Lady of Eregion was smuggled out of the smoking city in the arms of the Elf she loved, leaving behind all she knew and created. By the Third Age, at least one scroll written by her hand could be found in every library of Middle-earth; and in the Great Library Elrond built for her, detailed accounts of Lord Celebrimbor's work as recalled and honored by his adopted daughter, future Lady of Imladris.
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requesting rules and masterlist
TROP masterlist
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rinskazuu · 2 years ago
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their voice lines about you, as their lover!
just my fav characters^^
INSPIRED BY @fatuismooches and their “harbingers’ voicelines about you.” they did so well, i loved it. y’all should go check it out!
xiao, itto, tighnari, ayato, ningguang, sara, yanfei, childe, diluc, zhongli, kaeya, beidou, cyno, & al haitham x gn!reader
implied that reader is an immortal/non mortal being in xiao & zhongli's.
cw: fluff. use of they/them pronouns. pet names: you’re mostly referred to as their “lover”, and “my darling” in 2 of them. some of them are slightly ooc, but i already put it in parentheses. i tried my best!
a/n: this is my very first post here, and im kinda nervous because even tho ive been writing for a long time, im still rlly insecure of my work. i removed a couple characters cus it got too long.. but if you guys like it, ill make a part two<3
hsr version
edit: please excuse my punctuation, especially the improper use of the commas and lack of oxford commas. (this is an edit made after a LONG time since this was posted)
XIAO
about [name]:
“hm? you want to know about [name]? well… there’s not much to say. what? i’m not blushing!”
chat: meals
“personally, the idea of human cuisine doesn’t delight me much. food isn’t necessary for an adepti but, i do enjoy [name]’s cooking quite a lot. they make the best almond tofu.”
chat: stress
xiao lets out a deep sigh, “[name] is too careless. and while they have such a big heart, they take too many dangerous commissions. on more than one occasion, i had to find them myself, just to see them injured. they claim they didn't call my name, because they don’t want to become a burden but, i… ah, never mind.”
chat: bonds
“hm… [name] and i have known each other for centuries. it really does make me happy seeing them and morax together. ah? he goes by zhongli now…?”
chat: flowers
“flowers? such a distraction... i pay no mind to them. but, i have heard from many mortals that, people in relationships do cherish such gifts. should i pick some for [name]?”
ITTO
about [name]:
“[name]?! you’ve met [name]? they’re so cool right? they’re my best bro, my everything, my one and only! tell me, has [name] said anything about me to you? they said they love me? oh! hm? my cheeks? THEY’RE NOT TURNING RED, it’s just the paint…”
chat: onikabuto
“yeah, i’m the best and number 1 at onikabuto fighting! i always win! well, except when i fight with [name]. somehow, they always win, i don’t know how! they never let me in on their secret too. one day, they will tell me.”
chat: jail
“[name] is great. they bail me out all the time. really, i’m so grateful to have them! they’re fit to be the leader of the arataki gang but, nobody can be the leader except me, arataki itto.”
chat: picnics
“[name] and i always go out for picnics, and then we have an onikabuto fight. even though they always win, i’m happy to be spending time with them. but, you gotta be careful, last time, i spilled some of the juice and [name] got a bit angry. huh? what do you mean i don’t seem like a picnic guy?”
chat: horns
“yeah these babies are painted! i usually paint them but sometimes, [name] helps me cover the spots i can’t. they’re so good at it too. is there anything they’re not good at?”
TIGHNARI
about [name]:
“you’ve met my wonderful lover, i see. yes, [name] often helps around gandharva ville. they do visit frequently, even though they reside in sumeru city.”
chat: sadness
tighnari sighs, “i do miss [name] a lot. i know they come often but, with them being busy working for the akademiya, it does get a little lonely without their presence during the night.”
chat: views
“hm, i’d say gandharva ville has some of the best views in all of sumeru! i take [name] to some of these places and, it lights a smile every time! a lot of beautiful flowers and mushrooms grow here. i do make sure to pick the non-poisonous ones though!”
chat: jealousy
“[name] has such a kind soul, all the forest rangers admire them. how could they not? i’ve never seen them do a bad thing in my entire life! though, it does get frustrating when they stare at them too long… i do admit, i get a little jealous.”
chat: petting
“ah? you want to pet my ears? well… i usually only allow [name] to pet me but, i’m sure they wouldn’t mind either. my tail? hah, now you’re going too far!”
AYATO
about [name]:
“hm? [name]? yes, that is the future head of the kamisato clan. ah, don’t tell them just yet but, i do plan on placing this lovely ring where it rightfully belongs.”
chat: family
“well, with only my sister left of our family, i do cherish her very much. [name] gets along with ayaka quite well. hm, speaking of which, they’re probably spending time together, at this hour.”
chat: work
“aside from being the head of the kamisato clan, my role as a commissioner does get in the way of a lot of things, including spending time with my lover. it’s such a shame. yet, they’re so patient with me. say, traveler, do you think i’m undeserving of [name]?”
chat: bubble tea
“haha, i am quite fond of bubble tea. i request for thoma to get it for me often. somehow, [name] always gets wind of it and steals a couple sips. they probably think they’re sneaky but, i know thoma is always telling them. they’re adorable so, i suppose i can’t be complaining.”
chat: safety
“during the vision hunt decree, [name] was really busy working and it worried me to death. i barely saw them and, unfortunately, i had to ask their close friend, kujou sara. both her and i share concerns over them so, she helped me even though, she was a little reluctant.”
NINGGUANG
about [name]:
“apologies, traveler, i’m a little busy right now. [name]? ah, my lover. well, i suppose i can sit down and have a chat about them for a bit.”
chat: danger
“although i’ve had a couple discussions with the adventure guild about [name]’s dangerous commissions, nothing seems to stop them. of course, they’re very passionate about helping others but, i’m worried they’ll put themselves in danger and i won’t be there to save them. traveler, maybe you can talk to them?”
chat: lunch
“hm yes, [name] and i go out to liuli pavilion a lot. i hear many people of liyue mutter about how jealous they are of them, how easy it is gain my attention and time. though, that does strike up my worry about their safety…”
chat: shopping
“although my job, as the protector of liyue, tends to get me busy, you might find it shocking that i do spend a lot of my time with my lover. we go shopping every week. not that i’d ever let you see but, my closet is filled with clothes that match theirs.”
weather: rain
“agh, the rain is such a bother. on the other hand, [name] is fond of the rain, they often venture during this weather. although i despise it, i suppose i can tolerate it for them. will you be a dear and fetch me an umbrella?"
SARA
about [name]:
"so, you want to know about [name]? i hope for your sake, that you don't have any malicious intentions, but other than that, i'll be happy to talk about them."
chat: loyalty
"yes, i am rather extremely loyal to the shogun. [name]? i assure you that this topic doesn't affect our relationship. despite the fact that i'm not shy to talk about it, i'd rather keep our affairs private."
chat: knitting (ooc? hc)
"huh? knitting... so, [name] told you about that. well, i suppose i can tell you, i do enjoy the simple hobby with them. it tends to release a lot of stress. although, i'm not sure why they spoke about it..."
weather: thunder
"the lightning and thunder is a sign of the shogun's will. i do often announce my loyalty to the shogun but, more times than none, i get aggravated by it. the only other thing that allows me to tolerate it is [name]. they love to huddle up to me and i find it adorable, it really takes my mind off the weather. don't tell them... or you might have to start sleeping with one eye open."
chat: onigiri
"as a warrior in inazuma, it's hard to carry heavy foods with me when i am not home, which is why i ask [name] to make me onigiri. they make it so well, it's packed with flavor and it's easy to carry. i always miss their specialty dishes though."
YANFEI
about [name]:
"have you met [name] yet? you have! hm, the expression on your face tells me the meeting with them was delightful. i'll tell you, being a legal adviser is not easy but seeing their bright face every time i come home, makes it a ton easier. they make me forget about all the civil cases."
chat: comfort
"sometimes, i think i'm good at hiding my facial expressions but the moment i come home and see [name], they know exactly how my day went, or more so what type of day i had. they're exceedingly perceptive and, having a lover like them makes my life a whole lot worthwhile."
chat: late night work
"like i said, being a legal adviser isn't necessarily easy, especially when you have a big case. i spend a lot of nights reading into boring cases, like that will i've recently encountered, however, [name] tends to bring me tea and sit in my home office to comfort me. it often distracts me but, i don't mind."
chat: cooking
"i'm sure i've mentioned how much i love tofu, right? well, [name] makes it ten times better. they spoil me too much, often rewarding me with tofu. i can't cook the way they can. archons, i wonder what i did to deserve such a lover like them."
chat: legal knowledge
"though it may come off as a shock, [name] knew quite a lot about laws before i met them. it wasn't until we got into a relationship, did i know about that. you bet i fell even more in love with them."
CHILDE
about [name]:
"good evening comrade! ah, what am i doing? picking flowers for my darling of course. i see, so you have met [name]. haha, they are truly wonderful aren't they? the more deserving they are of my time to be picking glaze lilies for them then, huh?"
weather: snow
"are you shivering, comrade? this weather is nothing compared to snezhnaya! you really remind of [name]. when i brought them to dragonspine, they were sniffling and whatnot. scared me half to death when a hue of blue took over their face, which is what convinced me to halt my vacation to snezhnaya with them."
chat: sparring
"everything in this world pales in comparison to the thrill of sparring. well, aside from spending time with my lover, of course. speaking of which; they're truly strong. [name] has beaten me every time we've sparred throughout our entire relationship, and they think i'm going easy on them but truth is, i really struggle against them..."
chat: spending
"[name] often scolds me for pampering them with expensive gifts but, i see it as a harmless gesture. of course i'm going to spoil my darling, how could i not?! ah, don't tell them about this one. do you think they'll like it? should i get another ring? i am getting sweaty thinking about their reaction. hm, thank you for the reassurance, comrade."
chat: family
"apart from teucer, [name] hasn't met any of my family yet. i'm fully convinced they'll love them though. they get along really well with teucer, he's even went on to call them an older sibling. it makes my heart swell. nothing brings me more joy than seeing my family and lover getting along."
DILUC
about [name]:
"[name]? of course i've met them, they are my lover after all. so you've heard...? they're a wonderful, kind, and passionate soul. what truly delayed our love was that they're a knight of favonius, a captain no less. but, i've grown to love that part of them as well."
chat: job (slightly ooc?)
"[name] looks wonderful under the dim light of angel's share, don't you think? even though we've been in a relationship for a long time, i will never get used to the way they're always so beautiful. ah, pardon me, i'm being unprofessional."
chat: brother
"tch, kaeya can be quite a bother, honestly. but, [name] always encourages me to reconcile with him. i'm not sure what there is to reconcile... though, i understand they do have only pure intentions."
weather: breeze
"usually, i pay no mind to the weather but, as of late, [name] has taken a keen interest in taking me out to cider lake during the night. it's often windy, sometimes a light breeze will cross us. like usual, they look wonderful under the night's light."
chat: art
"i'm not one to be into art but, it's one of [name]'s hobbies. they spend quite a lot of time indulging in this. everything they've made has been, how do i say this... a masterpiece."
ZHONGLI
about [name]:
"i'm not too understanding of human emotions but, one thing i've grown to recognize is my love for [name]. if you haven't met them, i'd be more than happy to introduce them to you. oh? so, you already have. enlighten me on what you think of them."
chat: gifts
"yet again, i've never quite understood the concept of this human tradition; gifting. [name] has informed me on it and i'd like to get them a present too. what do you think, traveler? something sentimental would suffice."
chat: familial bonds (based off hc, might be a little ooc)
"throughout the millennia i've lived, death has swept past me time and time again. aside from [name], that i met a couple hundred years ago, i've gotten a little attached to xiao, which in turn caused me to keep him closer than i intended. no matter, it fills me with joy to watch xiao open up to someone beside me. [name] tends to have that effect."
chat: tea
"tea is arguably one of the only human invented drinks i can tolerate. it's far better than wine. hm, speaking of which, i often send packages of tea i've acquired to [name]. they seem to love it so, i'd be more than delighted to grace a smile on their lovely face."
chat: painting
"quite like the art of tea, painting is... calming. [name] has been painting for centuries and yet, they have not grown bored of it. i find it astonishing, the way they're easily inspired by the changes of liyue. hm, i do enjoy watching them. sometimes, they would ask me to help them, and who am i to say no to my lover?"
KAEYA
about [name]:
"you're surprised i have a lover? haha, well a lot of people fall for my charm, and it's no different for [name]. though, i was also a little shocked, that somebody could have me wrapped around their finger like they do."
chat: drinking
"often times than not, [name] has dragged me home from angel's share, quite literally. yet, they haven't grown tired of me. i suppose i should stop, for their sake."
chat: intimacy
"[name] and i both work long hours, and even though we pass by each other a lot in the halls of the knights of favonius headquarters, i do miss their touch. recently, [name] has suggested late night dates. that's when we started going out to cider lake to go swimming. the water's cold but, it's nothing either of us can't handle."
chat: secrets
"you want to know my secrets? haha, if i told you then, they wouldn't be secrets anymore, would they? [name]...? well, it's best they don't know about my secrets... for their safety of course."
chat: spare time
"what i do in my free time...? well, i spend it with [name] of course! life would be dull without their presence. i'm often busy, and i drink a lot but, without them, i'd be nothing but a shell of a man. i have [name] to thank for making me a happy person."
BEIDOU
about [name]:
"what do you want to know about [name]? i'm the official [name] guide! they easily make my life like a boat on calm waters. though, i'm always adventuring on the sea, and they're associated with the qixing, we always make time for each other."
chat: souvenirs
"am i that easy to read? well, anyone with the right mind would bring back gifts for their lover, especially if their lover is [name]. they've told me about how much they enjoy the portrait i ordered to be painted for us, even though it's not a souvenir."
chat: sailing
"of course, [name] has been on my boat! it took a lot of convincing and arguing with ningguang to allow her subordinate to take a couple days off... i'd love to take them sailing again one day, but, i suppose i'll have to wait a while before that opportunity comes by again."
chat: occupation
"being a pirate did not make it any less intriguing for [name] to start a relationship with me. initially, it was platonic but, during my time on the sea, i began really feeling the absence of their voice and touch. that's when i really understood my feelings."
chat: drinking
"regardless of the fact that i do hold my alcohol well, i'm afraid [name] has seen me drunk on multiple occasions. they gave me an earful the mornings after. i understand their worries over me so, i drink less now."
CYNO
about [name]:
"you are not the first to be shocked that i have a lover. what? is it because i'm the general mahamatra? my career doesn't often get in the way of our rela- what? it's because of my appearance? what's wrong with it...? ah, i see. i can assure you, [name] is a person who's almost never afraid. they're mostly fascinated by things that seem thrilling, though i advise them to keep themself safe. not like they listen to me..."
chat: desert
"while [name] hadn't originated from the desert, they adapt quite well. occasionally, they have complained about the heat, not that i blame them but, they adjust rather quickly."
chat: rivalry
"hmph, that al-haitham... he doesn't get along with many people, probably because of that awful attitude of his but, unsurprisingly, he and [name] are close. i'm not afraid to lose them to him, no, but rather cautious of him. you can never trust a man like him."
chat: star watching (slightly ooc?)
"i was never a big fan of the stars but, ever since my first encounter with [name], they've always encouraged me to go star watching with them. the sky has hardly any affect on me and even though i agree to tag along, i always spend my time staring at them. they are truly mesmerizing..."
chat: concerns
"i'm confident in [name]'s ability to protect themself but, my title as general mahamatra does worry me regarding their safety. sometimes, i follow them during their adventures to make sure they're alright. what? they've noticed? i- never mind..."
AL-HAITHAM
about [name]:
"apologies traveler but, i am on a time crunch at the moment. [name]? did something happen to them- ah, never mind. your expression is too relaxed for anything bad to have happened to them while i was away. you want to talk about them...? well, ask away, i suppose."
chat: academic
"yes, [name] and i both studied at the akademiya. we were rivals at one point but, somewhere along the way, they had me hooked. looking at it from a much different perspective, i see now, that it was the best thing to have ever happened to me."
chat: knowledge
"nothing halts me from my thirst for knowledge. but, if anything comes close to it, it would be [name]. hm... no, i'd say they're the only one who could. nonetheless, they would never, seeing as they always praise and encourage me."
chat: rivalry
"general mahamatra? i wouldn't be surprised if he wanted [name]. first, after a position he was second best at, and now my lover? i'd like to see that fool try."
chat: reading
"comprehending every aspect of this world and it's secrets is a passion both [name] and i share. i'd have to admit, they're more into the pleasure of sparring over knowledge but, we do often spend our time reading together."
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avelera · 7 months ago
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Sometimes in genre fiction stories, you’ve got magical characters talking about their magical lives in public or wearing their superhero costumes out in the regular world.
Often times, the magical characters feel they need to hide or whisper about things like magic or immortality or fighting demons or like pretend they’re going to a convention to explain their superhero costume.
These are often lovely and charming scenes but let me be clear:
Nobody in a major city would give a fuck.
Just as one example of many, I was literally in line for a book signing in NYC and a man walked by stark ass naked wearing only body paint and basically after the initial surprise, no one did or said anything about it.
The amount of crazy you encounter on any given day walking around a major city makes you basically immune to surprise or taking any kind of action about weird shit happening around you.
If I heard someone talking about their magical powers next to me at a cafe back when I lived in NYC, I’d assume either 1) they’re rehearsing for a play, 2) playing/discussing D&D, and/or most importantly 3) it’s none of my fucking business.
I’m always curious what exactly people think would actually happen in the real world if a supernatural or magical character was overheard by someone who wasn’t actively hunting them or who wished them harm.
If you overheard a time traveler or an immortal or magical person in general candidly speaking about their life at the table next to you, what would you actually do about it?
Would you call the police?
Tell the whole world you just sat next to a real magical person and your evidence is that you overheard their conversation?
Report them to their nemesis? How would you even find them??
Seriously, besides telling your friends about the weird conversation you overheard at lunch or the strange looking person you saw, what exactly would a normal person do even if they really did overhear someone like a time traveler speaking candidly about their travels for anyone to hear?
I ask because I see so many stories set in a superhero or urban fantasy setting worrying about being NOTICED. Noticed by WHO? With what result?? What do you actually worry is going to happen? What would any average person actually do besides shrug and go back to whatever they were doing?
I’d accept that maybe in a smaller town you could become a topic of conversation and even widespread notice.
But let me assure you, friends, in any major city, no one would fucking notice much less say anything about any level of weird shit they saw. The whole point of a big city is that everyone basically ignores the weird shit happening around them at any given point.
So let the fairies and ghosts and time travelers of your fantasy story relax. If they’re in a big city, they could literally fly around downtown with rainbows shooting out their ass and the only comment they’d probably get is from people wondering what movie is being filmed nearby.
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fairyysoup · 2 months ago
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the devil i know
chapter one: god you've got the blackest eyes
(repost)
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fic tag | fic playlist | fic masterlist
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pairing(s): crossroads demon!eddie munson x fem!reader
summary: To summon a demon at a crossroads, simply cast a circle, make an offering, and recite an incantation. What happens from that point on is subject to your desire… and the demon’s.
cw: explicit, smut, dubcon elements, making a deal with a demon, inspired by american and european folklore, sacrilegious themes, horror, witch!reader, reader is 21+ in modern day, eddie is immortal, coercion (a bit), sex pact, marking, possessive behavior, animal death, trauma, reader is ostracized by her very religious hometown, dark comedy, tfw your accidental boyfriend is a demon who is obsessed with you bc he doesn’t know how to be normal about anything ever, dead dove: do not eat
please check masterlist and individual parts for content warnings before reading. this fic contains dark themes. your media consumption is your own responsibility.
a/n: Hi folks, for the month of October this year I'm going to be reuploading all the chapters of this fic onto tumblr, this time hopefully for good. I apologize for the time that it's been taken down. Genuinely, this fic has garnered so much kindness and support and I think of it as one of my biggest accomplishments. I hope you all enjoy it just as much the second time around as the first.
ALL OF MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI
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Through me you pass into the city of woe, Through me you pass into eternal pain, Through me you pass among forsaken people. Justice moved my exalted creator; I was wrought by divine power, Supreme wisdom, and primal love. Before me all things created were eternal, And eternal I endure. Abandon all hope, ye who enter here. -Dante Alighieri, The Inferno, Canto III
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The book you’ve used for ages now, since late in your junior year of high school, has only one page in it that you haven’t utilized. You don’t know how much faith to put in it– you’re a little short on faith, these days– but, the spellbook lays it out simply, so you follow its directions to the letter. 
To summon a demon at a crossroads, go to a place where two paths meet on the dark moon. You find peace and quiet in the woods, deep where you know no one walks at night but two paths cross in a small clearing banked with trees. It’s your favorite place to go when you want to do a spell– ritual– and you don’t want to be bothered. The whole thing can’t be more than twenty feet across. Above the overhang of trees, there’s no moon in the sky, only stars.
Cast a circle of protection. That took more research than just the book in your hands, but years of collecting information have given you learned knowledge– there are a million ways to cast a circle, and different circles for different purposes. You do your best to create one for protection. You draw a literal circle in the dirt with a stick, fill it with salt, and walk around the circle three times clockwise to cast it. You light candles to give yourself some light, and to free up your hands of the flashlight you carried to see your way through the woods. 
Make an offering of copper. Your hand pauses on the copper dog tag in your hand. You’d thought of just offering a penny, but you remembered reading somewhere that pennies barely contain copper anymore, and you didn’t have anything else that was entirely made of the one metal. 
You run your finger over the embossed name on it. Lacey. Your pet’s old collar feels heavy in your hand as you remove the tag from the leather strap and bury it in the earth, you guess, to reach the… Underworld? Hell? You can’t honestly say, considering the text you’re referencing only calls it the Otherworld.
It’s a big sacrifice. It’s personal. But, you guess, that gives it more meaning. Making a deal is personal business, and you have your reasons.
Recite the summoning incantation. A stanza of words you don’t understand. You don’t think it’s in Latin, but you try your best, all the same. You read them from the book before you, and feel your blood rushing in your veins as you do.
State your desire out loud in a clear voice. Well, that’s a little more difficult. What is it that you want?
You take a breath, go to speak, and then stop. You don’t know how to start. You don’t know exactly how to describe your pain. You don’t know how to voice your anger well enough, you just know you need to… you need to get it out, somehow. This is a very crucial step in the ritual, you have to do it.
“I came here to make a deal,” you speak frankly, clearly. “I’m prepared to do anything. I’ve run out of options. I’ve been hurt too many times, by too many people who didn’t care what they did to me. I’ve lost everything I genuinely loved. I’m… I’m angry, and desperate, and I’m frightened. And I feel so alone. It’s eating me alive, and I just… I just want the ability to make things go my way, for once.” Good enough, you hope.
Wait for an answer.
You do. You listen intently, to the song of the leaves in the trees rustling in the slight breeze, to the crickets chirping in the grass. You wait long enough that you start to rethink your approach. 
It could be that things will turn around if you just wait another month, or another month after that. Maybe you’ll get the car back. Maybe you’ll get the promotion that was given to the newbie that you trained. Maybe your ex will stop coming around your work to intimidate you. Maybe you’ll get a new dog to take the place of the one that he killed. Maybe the evangelical town you live in will stop shunning you and calling you a witch, like something out of the middle ages.
Unlikely, that last one.
Just when you swear it’s a failure, that you should just pack up and leave, that’s when a strong gust of wind rips through the clearing out of nowhere. The candles blow out– and then, oddly enough, relight themselves. There’s a slight scent of smoke on the breeze, and you look around to make sure none of the candles fell over in the wind.
They’re all perfectly fine. There’s nothing amiss, it seems, until you hear a cough and movement across the clearing. You look forward, and see a pair of black combat boots in the stream of light from your flashlight. You follow the boots up to a pair of legs, clad in dark jeans, and then further up, to a torso, and a head, and a pair of sparkling eyes.
“Hi.”
You stare at him, probably looking like a fish out of water with the way your mouth opens and closes. You’d fully expected the traditional scary depiction of a demon– maybe horns, goat hooves, et cetera. But the man that answered your call is… just a man. A pretty one. He has long, curly hair, which falls over his broad shoulders and stirs in the wind. His plush lips curve up in a relaxed, cocky smile, as he takes in the sight of you in return. 
He quirks an eyebrow at you. “Are you just gonna stare at me all night?” 
“Sorry, hi. Hello.” You shake your head. “Can you believe I honestly thought I’ve been doing it wrong this whole time?” 
“I can believe a lot of things. You know, there’s a reason why the demon summoning ritual is first in that book.” His voice is soft and resonant. You get a mental image of heat waves radiating from tar-black and glowing magma, rolling slowly over lava beds. The image disappears just as soon as it flashes into your mind.
“Well, to be completely honest, I wasn’t sure how I felt about making a deal with a demon first thing,” you explain, looking away shyly. “But I’ve tried all the spells in this book and not a single one of them worked. Just seems like everything is getting worse all the time.”
He doesn’t look away– rather, he keeps staring at you, unblinkingly. Like you’re the most fascinating creature he’s ever seen. He leans up against the tree that he appeared beside, his leather jacket falling open to reveal a shirt with a demon’s head on it. Fitting. He takes a pack of cigarettes out of his jacket pocket. 
“So, now you wanna make a deal with little ol’ me, huh?” He grins, a gorgeous smile that flashes bright, sharp teeth at you. He lifts a cigarette to his mouth and bites it gently between his teeth. He doesn’t pull out a lighter. Instead, you watch him light up with a small flame that erupts from the tip of his thumb. 
“Depends on who you are,” you retort, eyes following the movement of his hands. They’re weighed down by large, silver rings that reflect the light of the flame before it snuffs out. “What’s your name?”
He makes a short noise in his throat, shaking his head abruptly. He doesn’t look nearly as intimidating as you feel he should– more like he’s trying to warn you against something you don’t want. He peers at you from beneath his wavy bangs as he pulls the cigarette from his mouth and uses it to point at you. “Names are really powerful things where I come from, babydoll. Best not to bite off more than you can chew yet. Once we cut a deal– that’s when you get my name.”
You make a face as you mull that over. “So what do I call you, in the meantime? Demon daddy?” 
“You could,” he chuckles. The demon rocks to the side, crossing his legs at the ankles. “If you really wanted to. I wouldn’t mind, it’s flattering.” 
You grunt. “I think I’ll pass on that, actually.” He tilts his head with a sicker, watching you with an amused smile while you shift in place. “So, do I– I mean, you need to know what I want, right? Is that how this starts?”
“No, I know what you want.” He exhales a stream of smoke from his nostrils. “You want power. To get a fair shake, find your place, change your life. Defend yourself against the assholes making that life, well. A living hell.” As he spits out the words, his voice rings sharp through the trees, like the strike of a hammer on glowing metal, shooting sparks off into the air. 
“I want to take all this pain and just… return to sender. Give it back to them, y’know? I never wanted any of it,” you justify. Your voice is too small in comparison with his. “Maybe then I’ll be able to fucking breathe.”
For how little space you allow yourself to take up, he seems to consume the rest of it. He nods slowly. “That’s a fair request, sweetheart.”
“It’s selfish, I know.”
“Making a deal for power is inherently a selfish thing,” he shrugs. “Own it. I’m certainly not judging.”
You let out a shaky breath. You’re still so nervous, being so near him– ten feet away and growing closer every second, it seems, even though neither of you have moved. You feel like, no matter how far you pull back, the flow of fiery lava he seems to embody will keep creeping towards you until you’re burned alive.
His dark eyes glow like coals in the night as he looks you up and down, and then he quickly pushes himself away from the tree. You startle at the abrupt movement, and watch as he swings around it like Gene Kelly on a lamp post. 
When he rounds the tree, he uses the momentum to throw himself toward your circle. You flinch, and he frowns, but continues moving toward you at a slower pace, holding his hands out innocently. “Wanna know a secret? About how all this,” he twirls a finger in the air, indicating the ritual you’re in the middle of, “works?”
You nod, gazing up at him shyly. If you felt at all powerful while casting the circle and starting the ritual, he’s managed to take the wind out of your sails. You can feel the power radiating off of him in waves.
He smirks at you. “You make your petition– when you say the words in that little book,” he points at the volume at your feet, “and that petition is answered by whichever demon caters most to that desire.” He points at himself emphatically, his eyebrows raised. “Me? Infernal majesty of freaks and misfits. I’m your demon daddy.”
You finally giggle, and it makes him smile fondly, like that’s what he’d been gunning for all along. He backs up a step and puffs his cigarette. 
“I’m here to help you, sweetheart.” He regards you for a second, like he’s thinking things over. “That is, as long as you agree to my terms.”
“Terms?” You echo, but you were sort of expecting that. Nothing for nothing, right? “What are the terms?”
“Ah, they’re simple. Very traditional,” he waves his hand like it’s frivolous. He holds his hand out in midair, and just like how he’d conjured the flames, he produces a weathered book. It looks like a composition book that has scribbles and doodles all over the front of it– the same demon head that adorns his shirt. “You sign your name with your blood in my little black book, you hop on one foot with your hand on your head and pledge your undying fealty to the dark lord Kthulu, and then you meet me on the sabbath to kill a child and make them into soup.” 
He smiles, fluttering his eyelashes at you innocently. 
“Are you fucking serious?” You blurt. 
“Of course I’m not fucking serious– what is this, the dark ages?” He snorts as he lowers the composition book. “Nah, we don’t do human sacrifice on the sabbath anymore, it was getting too difficult to evade the witch hunters.”
“What?”
“Nothing.” He flashes you a disarming grin. You can feel yourself halfway smirking as well, incredulous but somehow enjoying his humor. Then he shakes his head and says, seriously, “No, you do have to sign my book, though. And then meet me back here on the full moon to fuck.”
You blink at him, reeling from the whiplash of that. “You… I’m sorry?”
“I find it best not to sugarcoat it, y’know.” He shrugs, “Think of this as a marriage, of sorts. I give you the power to smite thine enemies, live deliciously, blah blah blah, and then you meet me at the crossroads every full moon to be my whore and we fuck like bunnies all night. Simple as that.”
“That’s far from simple.”
“It doesn’t have to be monogamous, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he continues frankly, “except on the full moon. I won’t compromise about that– you’ll be all mine, and I’m all yours. No takesies backsies.”
“No– that’s not–” You exhale, holding your hands over your eyes. “I’m just… not promiscuous like that…”
“Sweetheart.” He waits until you’ve lowered your hands to look at him, and he hums, with a saccharine smile that reminds you of the power you’d felt sweep through the clearing when he arrived. “You won’t be the first good girl I’ve broken, and you won’t be the last. If you’re worried about promiscuity, well… I answered your petition. I know what goes on in that pretty head, and it barely scratches the surface of what I’ve seen and done.” 
The toe of his boot barely nudges the edge of your circle, and a spark crackles in the dark from the impact. The light dances in his eyes longer than it remains in the air, like they caught the spark and ignited. 
“Trust me,” he says, drawing you in with the low register of his voice. “I can give you more than power. I can give you protection. I can give you real happiness. Karma’s a fucking bitch, so I can be, too. This is just such a little thing in return. And who knows… you may even like it.”
You shiver at that, even though his presence feels hot, like his stream of lava is surrounding you, crowding you in, boiling you where you stand. He’s right– you absolutely might like it. 
Because there’s just something magnetic between you, isn’t there? You can sense it, more than any heat and any sort of primal fear you might have instinctively at his presence. There’s a certain pull you feel toward him, emanating even through the salt barrier on the ground. 
You want to wrap yourself in him. Boil you alive, burn you to a crisp, destroy you– you don’t care.
“Or… is it that you don’t like this body?” He wonders aloud, striding backward two steps. He turns, his hand lifting his seemingly ever-burning cigarette to his lips. “Figures– y’know, I can be anything you want me to be, babydoll.”
Confused, you watch as he transforms in front of you. In the length of two steps while he paces across the clearing, his face and body stretches and contorts, until you’re not staring at the same visage anymore. He stops, and he turns to you with his palms up, like he’s waiting for your approval. 
You’re looking at Tom fucking Cruise. 
“Oh, no, absolutely not,” you shake your head vehemently, scowling. You wave your hands demandingly, “Put it back. You were so hot before– please, please go back to the way you were.”
The demon grins and turns his head, throwing the cigarette away. His hair grows back to its previous length, his face morphing as if made of clay until you meet the same pretty smile you’ve come to enjoy looking at. 
He chuckles, grabbing a lock of his hair and drawing it across his lips. “You think I’m hot?”
“Of course,” you murmur, but you know beyond a shadow of a doubt that he can hear it. His eyes are embers, blazing at you from beneath his bangs. “Is that what you normally look like? Is that your true form?”
He makes an iffy sound. “It’s what I looked like when I was human. My true form has more horns and unhinged jaws and claws and all that. You wouldn’t like it.”
“I thought you said you could read my mind. Do you know how much monster porn I’ve consumed? That’s hot as shit to me,” you argue, and he snaps his head towards you in surprise. You point at yourself. “Freak and misfit.”
He laughs, and it sounds like the roaring of an out of control fire, burning up everything in its path. He kicks his heel on the ground and steps up to your circle again. “I like you, baby. I really do. What do you say?”
“How do I know that I can trust you?” you ask, an annoying lump forming in your throat with the question. You’ve been burned before by people far less powerful than this demon, yet who still hold so much power over you. However much they have.
“You can’t,” he answers, more honestly than most would. He tilts his head with a crooked smile. “Not to get all preachy on you, but even if I wasn’t a demon… trust is built, not a given. ‘The devil you know,’ right? Better than the one that you don’t.”
“Yeah,” you agree, your voice coming out breathy and winded the longer you gaze up into his eyes.
“Trust me to be… intense, I guess,” he shrugs. “And probably impulsive. But I’ll always deliver on our deal. Be my witch, my wife, my whore– whatever you want to call it, but be mine. I think we’ll have so much fun together.”
“Yeah, I think– I think I will.” You’re nodding, and his smile grows with yours. “I want to.”
“Let me in, sweetheart.”
Your toe scuffs the boundary on the ground, breaking the circle. Immediately, your senses are assaulted by smoke, not just the tobacco he’s been smoking but the scent of a wildfire, of cities burned to ashes, of desolation and destruction and pyroclastic flow and roaring, exploding volcanoes. 
Your demon crosses the line you’d drawn on the ground with ease, producing the worn composition book in his hand again. The cover reads Hellfire Club in chicken scratch handwriting. 
“Are there others?” You ask, prompted by the word Club on the front as he flips open the book to a middle page. An agreement is already written out in red ink. “Do you have more than one, um…”
“Consort?” He whispers in your ear. Goosebumps rise on your skin, and your stomach flutters. “Not for a long time. I’m very picky about my partners. They have to be just as much of a freak as I am.”
Your heart thumps loudly in your chest, although the admission makes you feel… better, in a way. You squint in the dark, but with the exception of the candles around your circle, there’s nothing to allow you to properly read what’s written on the page. 
He sighs, shifting on his feet beside you. “Are you one of those people who’ll read the whole contract?”
“Absolutely I am,” you hum. The book feels heavier in your hands than it should. “Can you give me a light?”
“Jesus Christ.” He produces a flame from his forefinger just as you turn to give him a confused look. 
“Shouldn’t you, like… evaporate after saying that?”
In the yellow glow of the flame, he just blinks at you, looking amused. “Things aren’t as black and white as you think they are, believe me.”
You snatch his wrist and yank his arm closer to the page. His body collides with yours, and he grunts in your ear as he wraps his other arm around you, embracing you from behind. You’re engulfed in the scent of smoke and the heat of his flames, impossibly hot and comforting all the same. 
His hair brushes your shoulder as you read his contract. It’s just a few lines, but the weight they hold will seal your fate. 
The agreement made this night of the dark moon shall henceforth be enacted from the signing of this document, that hereby renders the human party’s soul bound to the infernal party. Witness that the first party must appear before the second party each full moon to lay in matrimonial fashion, and that in return the first party shall be protected and given the powers of the second from here until the human’s mortal passing. 
“Aww, that’s sweet,” you coo, tracing the red ink with your fingers. 
The demon over your shoulder rolls his eyes. “It’s a fucking pre-nup.”
“Doesn’t seem like a fair trade, though, does it?” You murmur. “I mean, I get the power to change my circumstances and you get– what– sex once a month?”
His hand tightens on your waist, and you pause. You turn your head to look at him, and his eyes flicker dangerously, so close to yours. They aren’t just glowing coals- this close, you can see the small details. You can see the swirling, the churning of lava within them.
“It’s not just sex, is it?”
“What do you think making a deal with a demon entails, sweetheart? Read the fine print.”
You look back at the page. There are no other words on it, save for the ones you’ve already read. “I don’t…?”
“It’s your soul, honey,” he mutters, pointing at the word. His mouth is muffled against your shoulder as he peers over it. “I won’t ask anything of you other than the sex, as long as you live. But right now, you’re offering up your soul. And once your life is up, you get to be just like me. Understand?”
“I… yeah. I understand.” You let go of his wrist, but pause over the pages of the book. “I don’t have anything to sign with.”
Wordlessly, the demon takes your hand. You let him caress your wrist, feeling your pulse with his thumb. Then, before you realize what’s happening, a sharp sting makes you yelp as he cuts your skin with his pointed thumbnail. 
He shushes you, letting the blood well up on your skin. “I did say you needed to sign with blood.”
Your voice shakes when you hold your dripping wrist over the page. “I thought you said you were joking.”
“Not about the book. Rules of the trade, I can’t change it.” Your blood splatters the notebook, dripping into the crease of the page. Once he’s satisfied, he lifts your wrist to his mouth and closes his lips around the small wound. It heals in a heartbeat. 
“Is that it, then?” You ask, mesmerized by the sight and feeling of his mouth on your skin. “Don’t you have to sign?”
Your demon kisses your wrist gently, his lips soft, inviting. “This is going to hurt,” he warns, and you nod. The heat of his breath makes your skin tingle, all your nerves on high alert. 
But then that tingling turns into a burn, that turns into a searing pain. You feel like your skin is on fire, an invisible hot brand held against your wrist. You cry out as he holds you close, letting you bury your face into his neck, holding you up as your knees threaten to buckle. 
“Such a good girl,” he murmurs to you as you whimper. He holds your arm as the pain fades into a throbbing ache, cradles your hand against his cheek as he coos into your hair. “You’re so strong. Not many people can handle my mark, you know. Fate works in funny ways.”
Your demon holds you until you can stand on your own, until your breathing evens out and you can compose yourself. He shushes you quietly, rocking you from side-to-side with a soothing hand stroking your head. Then he holds your face, and kisses your tear stained cheeks. The touch of his lips stokes at flames beneath your skin.
“I’ll look forward to our time together, little witch,” he whispers. And with a quick, chaste kiss to your lips, he disappears entirely. 
You stay in the circle for a while, clutching your throbbing wrist and crying frustrated tears. You wonder if you made the right decision, and yet, you don’t understand why you just want him to come back. You miss the comfort of his presence, even if you don’t know enough about him to justify it. All he did was hurt your arm and take your blood and kiss away your tears and make you a witch. 
It’s too late to go back on your decision now. There’s an all-encompassing fire you can feel burning in your veins, emitting from the pulsating wound on your wrist. His power. His fire. 
You pull your hand away from your wrist to finally inspect the mark that he branded you with, declaring you his in the same chicken scratch that had been on the cover of his book. It’s small enough that a well placed bracelet would cover it, but you don’t know that you’ll want to.
Eddie.
Your demon’s name is Eddie.
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