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wuwaworld · 5 months ago

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Platonic!Mortefi x Reader (AU?)

idk what to call this mess tbh.. :P

err... cause of death, sir? a literal hot man.

tw: crack, mentions of death, spoilers if you squint

Mortefi was a new researcher in the Huaxu Academy, young and fresh in the age of 18. his intellegence and skills had made him easily rise in the high seats, making those who had worked for much longer become his admirers or jealous yappers.

there was one thing that was absolute. Mortefi has his own moody room. a small, tinted window cubicle that he can pour out his annoyance into. his overwhelming emotions that can be kept at bay on his own. the cubicle was soundproof— a bit small for liking, yet it fit right into the young researcher's newly furnished office.

you were in the Academy a few years before he came by. a young apprentice from the previous leader of the Tacetite Weaponry. now, with Mortefi in-charge, a few of your colleagues hurriedly left the team. being replaced with new ones that were trying to get past Mortefi's ways of thinking, just like you.

there was an unspoken rule behind Mortefi's back. your colleagues had forcibly sacrificed you as the main speaker to bridge the team to the young leader. saying that they either speak too politely for the young man to grasp what they try to portray, yet you knew they just couldn't bother to keep up with Mortefi's skills. his graceful, albeit blunt remarks that undeniably improved the Academy's growth—

“are you listening to me?”

“oh,” you blinked, “well.. er.. what was it again? I apologize.”

Mortefi sighs, gesturing to the digital screen filled with numerous numbers and weapon models. “I said that this is not even up to the standards of weaponry against Tacet Discords,” he closes the tab, “one use on these weapons, then it's gone. below average designs if I must say,”

you involuntarily let out a sigh of relief, that design was not yours. he wasn't disappointed with you (yet). the constricted way your body felt easing into relaxation.

“you seem glad,” Mortefi noted, fixing his glasses, “why is that?”

“nothing,” you quickly replied, clearing your throat, “should I inform the team to spur another set of designs?”

“you should,” Mortefi hums. his body flickering the familiar shades of crimson bolts. “children can come up with better ideas. why can't they?”

a beat of silence... then he shakes his head, a resigned sigh slipping past his lips.

“nevermind, I'll come to them myself.” the young man says, his body rapidly being surrounded in crimson red. the scales on his body spreading like wildfire on his skin.

“wait, Mortefi..” you involuntarily gulped, blocking the exit to his office, “you should go to the cubicle first.”

“I'm fine,” he insisted, the bolts undeniably becoming brighter. almost hurting your eyes, “I just need to talk with them,”

“you know they won't.” you said, wincing at your own remark, “...you knew this whole time.”

if possible, the bolts grew brighter. his annoyance easily slipping into his calm facade.

“Mortefi-”

knock knock!

“meeting with all the researchers today in five. see ya,” a man outside the door drawls, their footsteps fading quickly.

you turn back to Mortefi, feeling a slight panic in your chest as he became more.. annoyed. his breaths heavy and fists clenched on his sides.

while the meeting was crucial, it was also a display show for each top researches. the spotlight undeniably on the new recruit (aka Mortefi) who easily climbed the ranks. by his current state, you knew he would just get more agitated. despite the fact you knew Mortefi wouldn't outright lash out in front of everyone.

just to be cautious, you gestured your arms around his frame. not touching him, yet coaxing his body to move towards the cubicle.

“come on.. Mortefi,” you spoke softly, hushed— amidst the crackling sound of bolts and growls, “please..”

his body naturally followed, mind occupied elsewhere. the young researcher simply let you guide him. the familiarity of your presence made him walk towards the cubicle without much protest.

you send an encouraging smile his way, one foot stepping inside the cubicle. your arms still outstretched coaxing him.

that.. was your first mistake.

you hadn't known the cubicle wasn't just a mere room. how could it be plain when it was made for Mortefi, and the man also customized it himself to be sentient-like? a speaking machinery room, a robot.

as soon as the sensors of the cubicle detect his agitation. metal arms reached out, accidentally dragging your feet along with Mortefi's as it scraped against the floors with a squeak, pushing your legs as your body was jerked inside the room. the door immediately shutting close.

“what the-!”

you almost yelled, yet you saw how calm Mortefi's expression was despite the bolts still on his form. his dry reaction making you annoyed.

“get me out,” you huffed, crossing your arms. the room was more cramped with two people now. and Mortefi's bolts licking your skin didn't help, it wasn't painful— just adding more to the uncomfortable feeling of the moment.

“it won't,” he replies, leaning against the glass wall, “not until I calm down,”

you deadpan, “then calm down.”

....second.. mistake.

Mortefi's annoyance grew brighter, you almost had to shut your eyes close.

“hey, I'm as pissed as you right now!”

“then why order me?” he huffs, rolling his eyes, “you're not good at comforting people.”

you could almost felt a tick mark growing, “I'm older than you— speak with some respect, at least!”

Mortefi turns away, nails digging to his skin as he attempts to ignore you. trying to soothe his emotions and keep them at bay. your presence not helping his annoyed state.

“aren't you some smart, young man?” you said, still tying to find your way out, “just hack the device.”

he continues to ignore your presence. eyes shut. the flames rapidly changing from wild to tame. then, he couldn't calm down anymore. his flames growing as a colleague dialed him, taunting.

“hey newbie, still stuck in some emo phase aren't ya? being late by a few minutes, you really want the spotlight huh? teenagers these days... tsk tsk.”

that was it, that was the last straw.

your body instinctively scrambled back. the corner of your eyes seeing the scorch marks on the cubicle walls. a sign of history.

and maybe, somewhere along the line... you're bound to become part of Mortefi's past. his breathing becoming more ragged as the flames became blinding.

“M..Mortefi, wait-!”

boom!

the world soon became black. your vision seeing red before passing out.

it was the first time the durable cubicle broke. your body slumping on the floor with a thud.

whether or not you're dead... eh, that's for a much more calm Mortefi to handle.

#mortefi x you #wuthering waves #wuwa #mortefi #wuthering waves mortefi #mortefi x reader #fanfic #x reader #crack fic #crack fanfic #tw death #mentioned #i made this on a whim #i don't think there's any spoilers since i just went with my gut on how to write Mortefi #but just in case..#reader admires Mortefi #reluctantly /j #wuwa x reader #wuwa x you

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sunderwight · 7 months ago

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Thinking about a bingqiu Dreamling AU where Shen Yuan and Shang Qinghua are both bored deities, just sort of taking a brief sojourn through the mortal world to shoot the shit and see some interesting monster or other that Shen Yuan has heard about, when they come across a tea house and decide to take a break and do some people-watching instead.

Shen Yuan is well into something of a shut-in phase, which Shang Qinghua doesn't like, mostly because when Shen Yuan is in those phases he doesn't do particularly well either. Shen Yuan's a social butterfly, for however little he cares to actually acknowledge it about himself, and his critique of Shang Qinghua's literary masterpieces gets so much harsher when he's not getting enough enrichment.

So when they overhear one of the kitchen boys solemnly insisting that he is going to do everything in his power to never die, and Shen Yuan laments that the boy would probably regret such a wish if it came true, Shang Qinghua decides to bestow a rare bit of godly power onto this mortal and grant his wish.

He doesn't make him a god, of course, that wouldn't even be in his ability. At least, not without using up more time and effort than he's prepared to expend on this one random kid. But immortality on its own is not that difficult. The boy will still finish growing up, and will still be able to be harmed, to know hunger and pain and illness. It just won't ever kill him.

Shen Yuan sighs that it's a cruel thing to do to a mortal, especially one with such low odds of ever cultivating other skills to mitigate the potential torment of it all. But Shang Qinghua just shrugs and they place bets, that this boy will ask for the immortality to be revoked in a hundred years, or two hundred, or so on, or else he won't. Shen Qingqiu approaches the kitchen boy and flusters and bewilders him by telling him to meet him back here again in a hundred years time.

A hundred years later, the tea house is larger. The boy has grown to be a striking young man, who looks at Shen Yuan with wariness and something else, something almost like awe, as he asks what manner of creature he's made this bargain with. Shen Yuan assures him that he has no nefarious intentions, and instead asks Luo Binghe how the past century of his life has gone.

Horribly, at least at first. Binghe's mother had already died by the time they met, but afterwards he managed to earn enough money to travel to a nearby sect. Working in the tea house's kitchen was just a minor stopover along the way. Shen Yuan was wrong, it seems, about his odds of becoming a cultivator -- Luo Binghe earned entry as a disciple.

Yet, he had no success. The master who took him on was unaccountably cruel and mercurial, and Luo Binghe's attempts to cultivate failed. Looking back he sees now that there were many times when he should have died but didn't, but when it was all happening he just thought himself lucky. At least until an enemy sect attacked a cultivation conference, and he suffered mortal wounds that absolutely should have killed him (or anyone) but still didn't die. (No demon race or abyss in this AU, but there are still demonic and fantastical creatures.)

His cruel master, upon witnessing this, accused him of heretical practices and tried to kill him as well by flinging him off the edge of a gorge. The fall was terrible. Binghe lay at the bottom in a horrifying state, injured beyond reason and yet, still, he didn't die. Eventually his body recovered enough for him to drag himself out, and once he did the only thing on his mind was getting revenge. For the next several decades he managed to ingratiate himself to all manner of potential allies, forging alliances, accumulating blackmail, and convincing people that he had to be some powerful cultivator through his supernatural resilience, lack of visible aging, and a lot of bluffing. He got revenge on his old teacher, drove his first sect into ruin, and rose to prominence as a feared and respected leader of the cultivation world.

Shen Yuan listens with clear interest, asking plenty of questions and seemingly quite taken up with the story. At the conclusion, Luo Binghe admits that his actual cultivation is still mostly a matter of smoke and mirrors, and wonders if -- now that the hundred years have passed -- Shen Yuan means to strip his immortality from him.

Shen Yuan asks if Luo Binghe wants that. When Luo Binghe says no, he accepts the answer, and tells him to meet him back here again in another hundred years. Luo Binghe calls after him, but before he can ask anything more, Shen Yuan has disappeared again.

A hundred years later, Binghe arrives back at the tea house with an entourage befitting of an emperor. The tea house has also expanded. Luo Binghe orders a lavish feast from them, which everyone hastens to provide. He's spent the past several decades consolidating his power, forging alliances with key political players via several marriages, producing heirs, and crushing his enemies. As he brags about the state of his massive harem to Shen Yuan, the deity's eyes begin to glaze over. He doesn't seem impressed. He also doesn't seem to care much for the food, and eventually his attention is stolen away by a conversation at another table. The diners are discussing the exploits of a promising new poet and novelist. Try as he might, Luo Binghe fails to regain Shen Yuan's attention before the evening is done. Shen Yuan doesn't think it's a big deal -- after all, if Binghe is still riding on top of the world, he's probably not going to want his immortality gift revoked just yet!

Another hundred years go by. The tea house has returned to a more modest situation, the next time Shen Yuan sets foot in it. He waits an unusually long while for his guest to arrive, and when he does, he's almost stopped at the door by the tea house's servers. It's only when Shen Yuan bids them let him through that Luo Binghe is able to come to the table, almost collapsing against it and desperately falling onto the arrangement of snacks with obvious hunger.

Shen Yuan wonders if this, now, will be when the boy (no longer a boy) asks for the immortality to be revoked. Surprisingly, he finds himself resistant to the idea, even though it's also clear that the game has run too long. Maybe hundred year check-ins were too short? He doesn't like the implications of what's gone on, even if he's not really surprised about it either.

Between desperate mouthfuls of food, Luo Binghe explains that without mastering inedia, going hungry but never dying is a deeply unpleasant experience. Shen Yuan orders more food. Once Binghe has finally eaten his fill, he begins, haltingly, to explain his situation. His clothes are ragged, he is painfully thin, and his gaze is haunted.

Apparently, several of his wives conspired to assassinate him, despite his reputation as unkillable. Realizing that most poisons and such didn't kill him, but that he could still be incapacitated, they hatched a scheme to dose his food with a powerful sleeping agent, and then walled him up in a famous ancestral tomb. They went to great length to ensure that it was impossible to escape from. It took Binghe decades to do it anyway, digging away at the floors, and when he got out he found that his power base had collapsed. In-fighting and the incursion of his enemies had led to the deaths of all of his children, and what wives had survived had either fled or remarried. Not that he particularly wanted them back at that point, since the ones actually most loyal to him had also been killed early on after his own "death". His face marked him, to the eyes of his enemy, as a surviving descendant of himself. He was hunted down, chased across the continent and back again, until he managed to fall into enough obscurity that his pursuers abandoned the chase. Except that he has nothing, and any time he tries to regain something, he runs the risk of being hounded again. Those who might see some potential in him still remember the collapse of his recent "dynasty" and slam doors in his face, or else try and turn him over to those now in power in pursuit of a reward. Those who don't know that much see only a dirty beggar, and usually run him off on that basis instead.

Shen Yuan, almost hesitant, asks if Luo Binghe would like to have his immortality revoked.

Luo Binghe declines. How will he be able to take revenge on those who wronged him if he is dead? He has a hit list a mile long by now.

Which is definitely not the most noble of reasons to persist, but Shen Yuan finds himself reluctant to ask twice. Instead he orders more food, and then even reserves one of the traveler's rooms above the tea house for several days. By then the sky is turning grey, and Luo Binghe is losing his apparent battle with exhaustion. Shen Yuan presses the key into his hand, thinking it's probably not enough, but there are limits to how much gods are supposed to interfere and Shang Qinghua already stretched them to the breaking point with this entire scenario.

He leaves, not seeing the hand that reaches after him just before he is out of the door and gone.

Another hundred years pass. This time, Shen Yuan arrives to find Luo Binghe already waiting for him. He isn't surprised to see that Binghe's situation has visibly improved -- maybe he was keeping closer tabs on him, just a little bit, for this past while. If only to be sure he wouldn't have to warn the tea house workers to expect an unorthodox visitor again! But no, Binghe has been doing well enough for himself. No more harems or thrones, though. He dresses more like a well-off merchant now, deliberately posing as his own mortal descendant rather than as a great immortal cultivator. The food at the table looks far more delicious than usual too (Binghe commandeered the tea house's kitchen himself this time). As they chat, Shen Yuan is regaled with the exploits of Luo Binghe's travels and adventures, how even though he initially set out to claim revenge on those who overthrew him, by the time he was in a position to actually do so they had already died of the usual causes (time, illness, their own schemes backfiring, etc). Subsequently, only their children and grandchildren were left with the scraps of power they had obtained, and when one of those children employed Luo Binghe as a bodyguard, his initial plan to assassinate them eventually fell by the wayside. After all, the wrongdoings weren't actually theirs. From that point, Binghe was able to restore himself to a more comfortable life, joining his new employer on their travels until he had set aside enough earnings to take his leave before his youthful good-looks earned him suspicion. He then began investing in travel and trade, specifically cargo ships, because never spending too long in the same place or around the same people helped disguise his immortality. He had found that, at least for now, this served him better than playing the part of a cultivator. It also gave him time to try and actually repair his ruined cultivation base somewhat, and fighting pirates proved very diverting.

Binghe is midway through recounting his adventures with a gigantic sea monster, while Shen Yuan hangs on every word, when they're interrupted by the arrival of a brash young mistress, clearly wealthy and trained in cultivation. The young lady declares that there is a rumor that a fallen god and a demon meet in this tea house once a century, that they wield strange powers, etc etc, and she intends to interrogate them both with the assistance of her hired muscle and her own spiritual weapon, and discover the truth of the matter. Then she whips out, well, a whip!

Before Shen Yuan can deal with the matter, Luo Binghe is already on his feet, disarming the goons and breaking a few arms in the process. Shen Yuan is so distracted that he almost misses the whip aimed right for him, but before Binghe can catch the barbed weapon with his bare hand (wtf, Binghe, no) Shen Yuan deflects it with a wave of his fan, and then efficiently knocks the troublesome young lady unconscious. The hired muscle flees, Shen Yuan arranges for their assailant to be placed in a room upstairs until she regains consciousness, and he and Binghe resume their meal and conversation in relative peace.

Even though it's clear that Luo Binghe has not yet reached the end of his tolerance for life, Shen Yuan nevertheless finds himself strangely reluctant to part ways at the end of the night. Still, he does, because that's what is expected of him, gently denying Luo Binghe's suggestions that they find some other establishment to continue their conversation at. He also has to investigate these "rumors" that the young lady mentioned. It's probably nothing (Shang Qinghua has a loose tongue when he's drunk, and a lot of imaginative storytellers have frequented this tea house over the years) but he doesn't like being caught unawares like that. Heavenly politics are... complicated, it's best not to court unwanted attention in any capacity.

Another hundred years go by. This time, when they meet at the tea house, Luo Binghe asks Shen Yuan why he keeps it up. Why did he pick Binghe? What is he really after? When Shen Yuan fails to give any kind of clear answer, Luo Binghe shoots his shot and makes a (very obvious) move on him.

Shen Yuan, flustered, gets up and flees. Ignoring Luo Binghe's calls after him. It just doesn't make any sense! Why would Binghe do that?! He's a man who once had a harem of wives in the triple digits! Clearly he's not gay, so what was that all about? Was he just messing with him?! How dare he! Etc, etc.

Another century passes. Luo Binghe waits at the tea house, which has fallen onto hard times again. With the construction of some new roadways, travelers no longer pass through as often. Binghe listens, worried, to the proprietor's laments that this old place will probably not be around in another hundred years. He listens because he has no one else to speak to, because Shen Yuan has not shown up. Not that morning, not during the day, not come evening, and not now that it is closing time. Binghe nevertheless charms and bribes the proprietor to let him stay even after the place has shuttered.

It seems damning, of course. He pressed too hard and now his mysterious benefactor wants nothing more to do with him. Except, no, he refuses to accept that. He's still immortal. And he has gleaned enough of Shen Yuan's character by now that he thinks that even if he was rejected, he would be let down more clearly and gently than this. The more he thinks about it, the less willing Luo Binghe is to believe that he has been deliberately stood up (also, since the tenor of his confession was different from Hob Gadling's, he never delivered an ultimatum about what it might imply when they met up again).

Over the centuries, Luo Binghe has built up a few contacts with similarly strange and supernatural stories. Cultivators, sure, but also others, fortune tellers and people of strange ancestry, questionable abilities, those who have interacted with powerful beings of mysterious provenance. He makes his way to a certain gambling den, frequented often by such people, and while he flashes around enough money to draw curiosity, he collects information. Shen Yuan wasn't the only person who started paying more attention to the kinds of rumors surrounding the two of them after their confrontation with the young cultivator a couple centuries ago. And in fact, Luo Binghe has been spending many, many years trying to find out more about his mystery man. Though, too many potential deities and immortals fit his description for him to have ever conclusively figured much out.

This is how Binghe gets wind of a rumor that an eccentric occultist has somehow captured a god in his basement...

#svsss #bingqiu #scum villain's self saving system #bingyuan #scum villain #long post #whoever the roderick burgess proxy is here he's got a big storm coming #going the classic dreamling fanfic route and having shen yuan get rescued instead of having to escape by himself #shang qinghua has definitely made other people immortal on various whims and impulses #he bestows his gift recklessly on a betrayed young prince at one point and the divine emperor is just like 'enough!'#'if you're doing to do this I'm going to make you babysit the results! you descend and work for that prince now!' so he's got his hands ful #dreamling might be the situation but shen yuan isn't much of a dream of the endless type #and luo binghe is nothing like hob gadling lol #'I want to live because I love life!' nope it's mostly about spite #the hardest part of this AU is imagining a universe where shen yuan would ignore luo binghe for long enough to let actual centuries pass

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