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#“this thing is dangerous !! will i tell mc
ebonysplendor · 1 day
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psst 👀 you should check out “Where He is King” by mellowbile on itch.io
Hmm...heard 👀
TL;DR: He's a joker, a jester, an absolute clown...but the pain that he puts us through is no joke
That was horrible, I know. I couldn't think of anything else. Plz let me live ._.
Game Link: https://mellowbile.itch.io/where-he-is-king
Notable Features: Nameless MC, Female MC, Demon/God LI(?), Yandere LI(?), Choice-heavy story Spiciness: 0/5 -- Unless you're into the whole dismembered from the inside out thing, then 5/5. No kink shaming here LI(?) Red Flags: 5/5 -- Physically abusive, Torture, Sadist. That's about it, but it's pretty gruesome/vivid stuff
Wanna know more? Not if you're not at least 18! Y'all were good until it got updated a few days or so ago due to the gore. Anyways, if you're part of the 18+ club, let's get into it!
!! C O N T E N T !! !! W A R N I N G !!
He looks more like a jester to me, but it may trigger that whole fear of clowns thing...just a heads up
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So, this one was a request, which I'm always excited about, so of course I had to give it the old college try. To be honest, I saw and played this the same day that I had gotten the request (hence why I wrote the whole "y'all were good until a few days ago" thing, because it was a few days ago at the time), but I really wanted to get that Trembling Essence review out first, and then, I started adulting and lost track of time, and then a month went by, and yeah. Not to mention that I was looking FOREVER for a particular ending; I'll get into that more once the review portion comes along. Anyways.
Now, admittedly, this one wasn't too much of my style but...actually, just take a look at this:
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I actually appreciate the disclaimer because, admittedly, the first thought I had was "This feels gorey for the sake of being gorey", but after remembering what they had said about it being more emotionally charged writing, I realized that it actually was pretty emotionally charged. Like, the writing itself was actually pretty solid and the art? Ugh, I loved the visuals. Those of you who have been rocking with me for some of my reviews know that I get completely undone over sprites, CGs, and all that visual stuff.
Admittedly, I don't really have too much to say in the intro. All that I want to say seems more appropriate for the review portion, so I'm going to go ahead and jump into talking about the game itself. As per typical, I'm going to tell you as much about the game without ruining the game itself.
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So boom.
We're on the run. Well, let me rephrase that: we were on the run, but our ankle is kind've AFK, at the moment, and running isn't really an option right now. Just as a little backstory, the reason why we're trying to get away from him is because everything is literally going to shit, or Hell, more accurately. Villagers are disappearing, children are either becoming runaways or being abducted, and there's this hypnotic music that's (assumed to be) always playing in the background from a taunting distance, being just barely heard. Not long after, a devil -- that was intentional, by the way, because he's not the devil, but a devil. He ain't that special, but he's still dangerous -- catches up to us.
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Friedrich "JunJingl" Marchosias. Yeah, I jumbled the pronunciation of that last name, too, but just know that that's his name lmao.
Naturally, he starts to taunt us, calling us a "broken toy" because our ankle is sprained, and we aren't much for running right now, which makes his pursuit less amusing for him. This wouldn't be such an issue if, one, Sir Jester Douche wasn't a literal psycho and a pretty serious threat, and two, we weren't literally the last human alive. That's right folks: we're what remains of humanity. Okay, well, maybe not that dramatic, but it seems that way because the people that would've been in the surrounding area are either dead or they were a part of his army, but that's not reassuring either because he only took the children for his army -- we're a full grown adult, so our fate isn't looking too good.
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At this point, he's getting pretty pissed at us. That's because he's been talking mad shit this whole time, but we've been silent throughout his whole lil' speech. Like, oh, pardon me for my brain shutting down and putting survival at the top of the list, my good sir.
We indulge in his arrogance briefly, but just long enough for us to stall him while we make a gameplan. Now, here's the thing: if we make a run for it, we're probably going to die because our ankle is pretty messed up, but if we stay and keep talking to this psycho clown...we're probably going to die.
Huh. Okay then. With that being realized...
We bolt. We are outta of there. Point blank period, because it's like, if our chance of death is pretty much inevitable, we may as well make him work for it.
That's kind've falling flat though, because he's right on our tail, and he's not even putting in the effort while doing it. We can't worry about that for too long though, because we hear this music playing and...oh shit.
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It's going from bad to worse. Now, we have to worry about his entire army chasing after us, too. It doesn't matter though because survival is still at the top of the list, no matter how slim or nonexistent the chance may be; we keep running. We run and run and run and run until we get to this well. Granted, it may have been a stupid move, but we actually managed to get a good bit of distance, and we stop to get a drink from the well. Like I said, probably a stupid move, but shit, we don't have much of a chance of survival if we're dehydrated. ...Actually, we don't have much of a chance of survival if we are hydrated, either, but a bitch is thirsty, so we get that damn drink, or so we thought we were going to. What we were expecting was a well full of rainwater.
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It's full of blood.
We don't even have time to be scared before Friedrich pops up behind us. With our survival instincts kicking in, we get on our gangster shit. We notice that the bucket was silver and recall how a lot of the things in the village had been replaced with silver dupes because it could ward off evil. When I say that we got a good ass grip on that silver bucket...
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And absolutely knocked his shit in?! We blasted the hell out of him with that bucket. Look at this man's face.
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Lmao, no babes. Not that face.
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Lol not that one either...
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Ah, yes. We...might have just plummeted our inevitable chance of death to an inevitable certainty of death...
And the story continues from this point, my friends! Actually! This is only one route of ten! Which ending is this you ask? Lol like I'm going to tell you. You'll have to play the game for yourself to find that out. Just be cautious, because it does get a little...messy.
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Okay, so! ...Wasn't really my cup of tea, not gonna lie, but it wasn't bad!
First and foremost, let's get into the visuals of this game. The art was definitely pleasing to look at. Like, ugh, I love CGs and sprites and visual effects and all of that, and this game had a looooot of them. Like, take a little lookie look.
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Chef's kiss work right there. I really, really, really loved the artwork. Definitely my favorite aspect of this game.
Now, like I said in the beginning, the gore was pretty "in your face" and definitely gives the initial impression of being gorey for the sake of being gorey; however, I made sure that I read it with the "emotionally charged" disclaimer in mind. Pleasantly enough, I actually could get that vibe. The dev gave the go-ahead for personal interpretations but, mmm, nah. Even though I'm not the most analytical person, I was going to let you all in on my weird thoughts, but nah, I think I'll pass on that for another day.
Put it this way though, obviously, I took it as a metaphor for being in pain, but hear me out (TRIGGER WARNING FOR SUICIDE BY THE WAY): it's not just physical pain, but that pain that you feel from the inside. You know, that internal pain that's so intense that it feels like it's literally tearing you apart from the inside out. The worst part about that type of pain is that, even though you want to die, there's something that's keeping you alive, and it feels like literal torture. To me, the game was a huge metaphor for fighting to survive but staying alive feels like torture, and you're just left constantly wishing for it to just end -- maybe a sprinkle of being haunted by past mistakes and a possibly wavering faith? (TRIGGER WARNING END). Anyways, that interpretation may make more sense if you decide to actually play it for yourself. Lol I guess I did let you guys in on my thoughts after all. Guess we're getting kinda close at this point, huh?
Also anyways, another reason why it took me so long to post was because for the LIFE of me, I could not frickin figure out how to get ending number 7!! At the time, the game was extremely new. Like, still in the box wrapped in plastic new, and I was like "Shit, I'm on my own, and I'm dumb". I spent so much time and literally revisited the game on different days to see if I had accidentally skipped something and found nothing new. I looked through the files, and I was like "Bro, I've literally seen all of these sprites and CGs. What am I possibly missing?". When I say that it was driving me nuts... BUT THEN! I WENT TO THE GAME PAGE AND I SAW THIS
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OH BLESS IT. I WASN'T BEING AN IDIOT; ENDING 7 JUST DIDN'T EXIST. THE RELIEF THAT I FELT. At the same time though, I was like "...why was there no ending 7?" But minor concern. Very minor.
Overall, the game was pretty damn solid! Lots of gore for sure, and I definitely didn't mind it, but the initial reaction was gore just for the sake of gore; however, when you really give it a chance, the writing's actually pretty okay. My favorite thing about it was by far the art and my other favorite thing was that we got to blast Friedrich's ass with that bucket. That was so satisfying. I mean there were consequences, yeah, but we still got our lick in lmao.
Welp, that's pretty much all from me! I recommended giving it a solid playthrough or two! I recommend it so much, I'll put the link right here so that you can give it a try. Also! Apparently they have a tumblr page for their art, and I'll link that here as well! I didn't see anything for a donation, but if you find otherwise, I'm sure they'd appreciate the monetary support. If you're broke, like me, send them some encouraging words and let them know "Hey, you did a thing, and I think that you should continue to do that thing because you're pretty good at it!"
But yeah, I'm going to end it here so that way I can FINALLY get this posted! Sorry for being MIA for a little. Adulting really be adulting, and I am ill-prepared for it a lot of the time ^^;
Anyways! Remember to drink water, don't be dumb, and hope to see you around~!
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Where He Is King
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By the time Baxter turned 30, he was happy, more or less. He had a job he loved, a beautiful apartment filled with beautiful things. He'd gotten back into dancing and made time for it regularly. And he had friends -- friends that he'd made years ago and somehow, against all odds, managed to keep.
But some nights, after he left game night at Jude and Scott's, or after having dinner with Terry and Miranda, he felt lonely. Not in a profound sense like he'd been used to, but a little nagging ache telling him that he'd like someone to come home to when the day was over.
Then you came into the picture. And the ache became a throbbing need.
You worked at the office with him -- not with him directly, but he saw you often enough to start liking you. You were about five years younger than him, he figured, and so bright and funny and smart. And beautiful. So, so beautiful.
Baxter found himself incredibly drawn to you, but also scared to actually try for anything more than the easy, teasing friendship you eventually built together. What if he messed it up? What if he wouldn't be good for you? What if he did something to dull your light?
One night, months after the two of you began talking regularly, he ran into you after a later-than-usual night at the office. He'd stayed late, finishing up some work he'd needed to get done for an upcoming wedding, and you had been doing the same thing. Usually when he spoke to you, it was with coworkers and clients wandering around, but tonight was different. Tonight he had you all to himself.
He exchanged pleasantries with you in the hallway -- he asked what you were working on, made some idle chit chat, all while trying not to notice how much he wanted you. He was so focused on keeping his feelings in check that he accidentally tuned you out
"Hmm?" he asked as you looked at him expectantly. "I'm sorry, I seem to have spaced out for a moment."
"What are you thinking about so hard?" you asked. "Pretty rude, honestly."
"I'm sorry," he repeated, "It wasn't my intention to be rude, I simply --"
He stopped talking when you started laughing. You were teasing him. Of course. But this only served to get him even more distracted, watching your easy smile, directed only at him. His eyes fixed in on your lips, and you stopped laughing.
"If you want to kiss me, you can," you told him, still with a smirk.
"Oh, I ... I didn't mean ..." he floundered, more flustered than he'd been in years. Maybe ever. "I mean, I would like to ... but I don't mean to ..."
You watched him start and stop and sputter and ramble before finally putting him out of his misery. You put your hands on his shoulders, then slid them down to grab onto the lapels of his jacket, pulling him in for a kiss.
It wasn't like any first kiss that he'd ever had. It was deep and almost impossibly intimate, with your tongue slipping into his mouth soon after your lips touched his. You used his jacket to pull him in closer, and he wrapped his arms around you, helpless to your advances but more than happy to have you take the lead.
When you finally pulled back, Baxter was a mess. Cheeks flushed, clothes wrinkled, heart pounding wildly -- but happy.
"Fix your hair," you told him, reaching out to ruffle his black locks. "You look wrecked."
With that, you turned and walked away. In a daze, he watched you walk away, down the hall and towards the main exit. Then you were gone.
Baxter had always known himself to be forward when it came to romance. But now, when it came to you, he had a feeling he wouldn't mind letting you take the lead.
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canarydarity · 1 year
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Hard to tell how indicative the bones on the floor are of anything about the catacombs themselves being how, every few minutes, Pix kills another skeleton adding to the collection. He swipes his sword through the one before him, and it collapses so readily into a pile of bone—like it was made to, like it was just waiting on his sword—that he has to wonder, not for the first time, what was holding it together to begin with. The bones rattle and clatter against those already littered around, and Pix sighs at the further disturbance to the scene as it was when he had entered; accounting for the damage likely done by mobs was going to make this hell to study. 
He grabs another torch and sets it inside one of the empty sconces that still adorn the walls, readjusts his grip on his sword—he can hear more lingering around the next corner; the low hiss that means a spider is near, the groan or two of a zombie. 
Pix picks up a chunk of cobble from the ground and tosses it down the hall, waits. Sure enough, out scuttles a spider. He disposes of it quickly enough, but it seems he’ll have to venture down the dark hall to goad the zombies. He glances at the clock he placed in his hotbar before embarking on this mission (it’s hard to tell how much time passes underground—something he learned quickly in his line of work). There’s still a good amount of daylight left, and he wants the catacombs cleared; he has other projects he has to move on to, things he needs to finish; he’ll just get through a few more halls—it won’t be an issue, surely. 
But the new corner he rounds remains dark even as he places a torch behind him to mark the way back. The groans can still be heard, but a zombie is yet to lumber his way, and so he has to wonder what's beyond his admittedly limited sight. Pix shuffles another foot or so forward, a torch in his non-dominant hand now as well, hoping for light, for vision. The research part of him—the logical academic—knows that it shouldn't still be this dark with the torches placed behind him nor the one in his hand, and that part is so much louder and more important than the one that knows this means something is wrong, the part that says turn around. 
The torch is lit, he can feel the heat of the flame as he observes it flicker in and out but cast no shadow on the wall behind—a wall Pix can’t even see but knows is there all the same. The circle of light provided extends no further than an inch or two out from the flame itself—comparable more to that of a birthday candle than a lit hand torch. If he hadn’t been staring directly at it, he would’ve assumed the fire snuffed out. 
He feels his eye twitch and his brows furrow. Academia liked concrete answers, things that could be explained and reasoned away—unequivocal proof. But Pix had always had a soft spot for the inexplicable, the ineffable. It was nice when he studied something and found an answer, it was riveting when he didn’t. How much more exciting to study it again and again, a riddle that begged not to be solved. (How much sweeter the prize if he were the one to figure it out in the end). 
His interest was piqued. He could feel it, the way his attention focused and his surroundings blurred and left him; his body on standby, his sword hand lowered almost subconsciously.  
In other words, it was entirely his own fault when the zombie grabbed him. Panic is never a good thing to welcome into a fight, but it likes to show up uninvited anyway. Pix's entire career revolves around studying human behavior, about how human nature cannot be fought against though it oft leads us to our own downfall and ruin. He finds it uncanny when he's reminded that this is a phenomenon from which he is not exempt. 
In haste, he elbows the zombie behind him and turns, back now to the darkness—the one not even his torch could dent. It’s an ugly bugger, eyes soft and misshapen from decay and skin so leathery it’s as if it's been treated and is ready for use as a saddle or armor. Logic replaced by horror, before he can run it through it advances, arms out, and Pix drops his sword to reach back, holding it at arm's length itself; their arms interlocked, pose not unlike meeting an old friend again for the first time in a while. His hands grip the woven fabric of what's left of its shirt, too old and worn to be from any time close to recent, and, despite the very real danger, his mind takes the time to process the period-accurate fabric, the hand-stitched design. He blanches again as he looks into its horrible milky eyes—this zombie was from the capital. 
Not sentient enough to know why it’s not actually getting any closer to Pixlriffs, the zombie makes a noise that sounds frighteningly human in its frustration and steps forward, and in his distraction, Pix lets it. The push seems to make his brain function yet again, and he shoves the zombie backward a good few paces away, but the momentum sends him stepping back himself, and his foot finds not purchase but, instead, the disturbing lack of solid ground, and with nothing left to do, he falls. 
He hits the ground with a thump and a crack and a lot of other sounds he would rather not describe as he feels they were likely very undignified. Winded but, it appears, still in one piece, he grabs another torch and strikes it against the wall, holding it up above him when it lights and shines this time as torches normally do. He buries the part of himself that is disappointed at this—the part that wants to panic and complain finally louder, now, than the part that says hmm. 
He didn’t fall too far, it seems. Now that the torch is lit he can see the gap he’d fallen through, just under a dozen feet or so above where he lays. It's obvious even looking from below how the stone floor had crumbled away, taking maybe one or two hits too many over time from overcrowded mobs or shifts in terrain or pressure aboveground. He tilts his head back but sees only another dead end behind him, and ahead looks like a further, deeper hall of the tomb he hadn’t uncovered yet, though the path is obstructed by debris from above; a net of spiderweb blankets the pile of stone and dirt, but no spider seems to be left guarding the web. 
His friend above seems to have lost interest now that he’s fallen out of sight, and its moans and groans get further away by the second. 
No immediate threat, Pix lets his head fall back onto the ground and takes a breath. He knew the crypt would be full of mobs, he knew it’d be hard, but still…
No, it’s worth it. It will be worth it. He has a job to do.
At least he isn’t defenseless—it’s more than he can say for the dungeons. Not a weapon to his name, fists wrapped in tape so red you’d never believe it’d been white to begin with; knuckles so raw and scraped and beaten by the time he’d made it out that they’d scarred that way—permanent marks of the fighter he was, of the fighter he’d proved to be. 
There was a fear there, too, at that very real and physical understanding of permanence. His studies proved expert in providing examples of what was permanent and what wasn’t, and where people weren’t, things were. He’d spent enough time studying what could be learned about a person by the things they left behind to begin to wonder if anyone at all would’ve remembered him if he’d died in those dungeons—not a singular weapon or item for him to leave behind and tell his story.
Pix stops wallowing. He sits up and reaches over his shoulder for his pick; he isn’t shocked to find that the shaft had snapped in two from the fall, it having been strapped to his back. He sighs, tossing it aside as useless. He’ll make another. 
He takes the time to remind himself again that he knew it was going to be difficult, and that difficulty was no reason to not continue. But it didn’t just feel difficult it felt…inhibiting. Dissuading, deterring, impeding. It felt deliberate. It felt like, stay out; like, we don’t want you here; like, leave us to our rest. 
(it wasn’t, it was something far more sinister. An idea he’d never thought to consider; like a torch was giving off too-little light in the hallway of a dark, long-forgotten crypt, he couldn’t see any farther than what was right in front of his own face. How cliche it’d be, in the end, when it came to pass—the academic too invested in their own research, too dismissive of the present danger posed until it consumed them. He’d have a moment to laugh about it later, when the dread had settled in and all options—or lack thereof—exhausted. While on the topic of permanence…
It was not go away that the tomb was saying, not a driving force out that was being enacted upon the archeologist, but a more frightening call of stay. A threatening but desperate find…become…join…
No, if it were trying to keep him out, why would it keep pushing him deeper? Add this to the list of things he’d realize too late.)
He stands and dusts himself off. The wall is thick and overgrown with glow lichen, and he grabs the nearest vines and tugs one, twice, three times before deciding it won't give and hoisting up. It takes a few minutes and a fair amount of huffing and puffing to get himself to the top and over the edge but he does it, collapsing on higher ground once again and taking a minute to slow his pulse. When he left the dungeons, he dove back into the studies he’d been missing and decided he’d had enough fighting to last a lifetime—this was not without consequence, he’s not nearly as in shape as he used to be. 
His sword is still on the ground where he’d dropped it, so he reequips and readies himself to push his way back out; he’d have to make time to come back and clear the rest another day. He would be back, and he hoped he would be welcomed. 
“I don’t mean to disturb you,” he says into the quiet blackness of the catacombs. He doesn't dare speak above a whisper, for there were still mobs around and his voice carried enough as it was, bouncing along the empty stone and quiet graves. “I'd like to tell your story.” 
There's nothing to hear but for the scuttling of various creatures far off in the dark, the shrill whistle of stray wind through small openings and holes. He raises his voice only slightly, a bit bolder. “Don’t you want me to do that? Will—would you allow me to do that?” 
Silence, and then—the rattle and clatter of a skeleton. It sounds like only one; he lit everything up pretty well on his way in, getting out should be easier. Striking another torch against the wall, Pix prepares to go. For a second, the light is brighter than it should be, its circle of light illuminating the hall completely, the hole he’d fallen into, the distance to the other side. He leans back to avoid the heat of the flame, and he sees it. 
The other side of the cave-in leads not to another tunnel but to an alcove, and empty it is not. His torch, though many feet away, sheds light on the scene; the heavily wax-encrusted stone above a pile of used candles and burnt wicks, the coin and other offerings of gold overflowing from bowls and chalices and any other orifice they could be piled upon, and her. 
He recognizes her immediately. The tapestry covers the majority of the wall, and though it's faded for certain, the lack of direct sunlight has done wonders at preserving what it could. The colors are familiar to his research, the subtle and light greens under warm oranges and yellows. He’s too far, he cannot see any detail; the background, what she's holding, her face—but he knows her. She’s their patron. 
The skeleton wanders closer, its bones clicking and clacking down the hall. Pix swallows. 
“I’ll return for you, I will.” It’s a promise. She’s holding a secret, he knows she is—he’s going to figure out what. Pix turns just in time to face the skeleton as it rounds the corner, and soon its bones join those on the floor, new and old alike. 
His words still echo off the caverns and crevices of the catacombs after he's left and gone, and though not possible to have been heard by human ears, the crypt whispers back good. 
~-~-~-~
Far below even the hole the archeologist had fallen in, leagues underneath the surface of the earth, buried perhaps the furthest underground of anything left behind from the ancient capital—so deeply you’d have to wonder if maybe it was done on purpose—the crown sits in a chest, waiting patiently to be discovered. It’s not a matter of if, but a nice decisive and quiet when. Eventually, the echo of the archeologists' words falls upon it where it sits, and slowly it begins to emit a soft glow. It says stay, it says find, it says become, it says join.
It says soon.
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mee-op · 8 months
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Facts about in-game Yuu (Twisted Wonderland):
NOTES:
This is an ongoing list and will be updated with new information. I'm not caught up w/ chap 6 and I'm not very perceptive. This list is so long because of all the people who commented/sent asks, so thank you Last but not least, some of these might be a stretch/be slightly incorrect so bare w/ me plz :] More Yuu facts [ ONE / TWO ] <- not mine
They've been good friends with Heartslabyul ever since Book 1.
They're forgiving/don't hold any bad blood with the people who've overblotted (at least on the outside).
According to the Harveston event, they can play the flute.
They don't like mentioning that they might return to their world (Deuce's Wishing Star vignette).
Many people consider them a "goody-two-shoes" (Leona, Ruggie).
A good listener.
Based on Malleus' interactions with them, Yuu talks to him a lot more off-screen as he states that he values their opinions.
Loves Grim to hell and back.
It's implied that Yuu invites Malleus over frequently enough that he visits unprompted.
They can be snarky and brutally honest when they're pushed into it.
Comes up with stupid plans that nobody believes will work but it somehow does.
They're insecure about not having any magic.
They want to be able to help their friends.
Has a sense of self-preservation.
Does not actively seek out danger (*cough* om mc *cough*).
They've cleaned up Ramshackle since living there, however, it still looks "abandoned & ancient" on the outside.
Crowley doesn't give them more money than "needed".
Silver states that Yuu is good with swords (PE Uniform).
Both Jamil and Silver seem to think that Yuu is somewhat weird/strange.
They don't know much about mushrooms (Floyd's Camp Vargas vignette).
They're very patient.
Used to be afraid of ghosts until they got to Twisted Wonderland.
They adapt to new/difficult situations quickly and calmly.
They don't complain much.
Very much so the silent type.
The audience doesn't really see anyone helping them out with their situation, so I assume they fix most of their problems themselves.
They don't have any memories of the Great Seven before coming to Twisted Wonderland.
Fluctuates between being observant and not noticing really basic stuff.
Doesn't hesitate to say cheesy things.
Keeps calm in harsh situations.
They know how to play a blowing horn (White Rabbit Event).
Good with instruments.
Not a very good singer (NRC Uniform).
It's implied that they have high stamina.
They're interested in horseback riding and wants to play soccer with Sebek (PE Uniform).
They recommend a few books to Sebek, implying that they read in their free time.
They're short in comparison to Floyd (he calls them Shrimpy).
Grim comments that they're shorter than Vil.
Crowley mumbles that Yuu looks effeminate.
They're a bit of a romantic since they seem to often ask about love stories/fairy tales (Epel & Jade chats).
They have a habit of poking, tugging, tickling and just touching people in general. This is proven through the Home Screen character interactions.
Their love language seems to be physical touch.
They get scared easily but is bad at scaring others (Halloween voice lines).
Vil notes that their uniform is baggy.
Malleus says that Yuu has gotten better at dancing (Masquerade Event).
It's implied that Yuu is good/decent at cooking since they have to make meals for both themself and Grim every day.
Yuu is decent at basketball (Ace Halloween).
Deuce remarks about a tiny piece of furniture in Ramshackle and asks if it's for Grim, meaning Yuu makes small furniture for him.
They're a good photographer.
Takes part in photography competitions (Rook Port Fest).
It's implied that Yuu carries their ghost camera everywhere because Crowley constantly makes them record events.
It's said that the game cards are actual photos that Yuu took with the ghost camera. [I don't know if this is true but a lot of people have said so]
Most, if not all the characters tell Yuu to hurry up when choosing a class, which suggests that they're indecisive.
Ace, Deuce and Cater tell Yuu to relax during classes or else they'll run out of energy.
Jack says that he got tips from Yuu while he was working in Monstro Lounge, implying that Yuu might've worked in customer service before (Book 3).
According to Grim, they have a hard time saying no to people, but when they absolutely need to-- they're very serious and a bit intimidating. "You're a real sap sometimes, you know that? Then again, when you bare your teeth it's no joke."
While they won't say no to helping others, they prefer to keep to themselves and avoid drama.
Yuu is sometimes a bit distrustful of Ace and thinks he's tricking them if he offers to do anything nice (2024 Player Birthday Greetings).
It doesn't take much to make them happy. (Deuce & Idia 2024 Player Birthday Greetings).
They became nervous when Riddle invited them to a salon for their birthday. Riddle response saying "I'll be right there with you, and will instruct you in etiquette every step of the way."
They're competitive in class-- at least when it comes to Jack (2024 Player Birthday Greetings).
They took chess lessons to try and beat Leona in a match (2024 Player Birthday Greetings).
For their birthday, Yuu asks Azul to get something that's supposedly hard for an average collector to acquire.
They're surprised when Kalim gifts them a pop-up card for their birthday.
They own a pair of fingerless gloves (gifted by Epel).
They personally invited Vil over for their birthday party and made sure to have healthy food options for him.
Not very close with Idia.
Owns a glass tumbler that reads 'Happy Birthday!' (gifted by Ortho).
Lilia gives them a CD with his screamo performances.
They were gifted so many presents on their birthday that they had trouble carrying the gifts around. (Malleus 2024 Player Birthday Greetings).
8K notes · View notes
hyunsvngs · 2 months
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𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐞-𝐚-𝐡𝐨𝐞! - spiderman!han jisung x fem!reader
wc: 11.1k
cw: han jisung is spiderman, a brief attack of an alien in school, both characters are 18+ (legal) but are intended to be in high school, friends to lovers, jisung calling mc baby at any given moment
synopsis: you’re obsessed with spiderman, but after a certain event takes place, you become convinced your best friend and spiderman are the same person.
a/n: after a long wait… HEHE smut warnings under the cut and as usual 18+ MDNI!!!!!!!
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
sw: brief mention of masturbation (both), oral (fem!rec), slightly switchy both parties, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, loss of virginity (both), cumswapping, relatively tame given that its me
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
You’re intrigued.
Interested seemed like too little of a word to use for how you feel whenever you see the latest news report. In a world full of superhuman serums and bulletproof skin, he is still intriguing. Maths homework could be ignored, as far as you’re concerned - and that’s bold for you, because you love maths. You wonder if he likes maths, too.
Every night at 6pm sharp, you settle in front of the television and wait for the news. Spiderman, the hero in question, is always up to something. He loves shooting his webs across the tallest skyscrapers in the city, dangling from them precariously without a care before he lets out a loud, earth-shattering giggle and beats the newest bad-guy that your world has attracted. You always wince at the reports, wondering just how he healed from the injuries he must sustain. It had to be down to the spider venom, you supposed.
“He’s dangerous,” Your dad huffs. He’s lounging on his normal armchair, peeling leather be damned, munching on a bag of crisps. You grimace at his crisp covered digits motioning towards the television. You love your dad, really, and your mum - you just always differed in opinions when it came to Spiderman. He was so fucking cool, and you seriously feel like a child saying that all of the time, despite your best friend Jisung telling you that we all have our interests. “I mean, he’s putting normal civilians in danger. Friendly neighbourhood Spiderman my ass.”
“Honey,” Your mother admonishes, digging through her own bag of crisps. You briefly consider why you haven’t been offered one. They look tasty, when your father isn’t rubbing luminous orange dust onto his previously crisp white shirt. “You know she doesn’t like it when you say bad things about him. He- what was the word again, baby?”
“He intrigues me,” You mumble, pretending to erase equations from your homework. Your cheeks blaze crimson when your mother hums in agreement, nodding triumphantly to your father. You wish you could be as sassy as her sometimes. You’re more timid, hiding behind oversized hoodies and Jisung. He is a lot more confident than you, more loud and exuberant - you suppose that’s why he had adopted you as his all those years ago.
Your mother had been best friends with Jisung’s aunt, Sohee. She’s just like Jisung, zipping around the place at an insane pace to offer you snacks and drinks at every second. When you and Jisung had first met in preschool, you’d been drawing patterns in the mud with your grubby little fingers, hiding from the bullies. He’d criticised your drawing. He helped you fix it, though, chubby cheeks puffing out with a grin when it was good enough for his taste. Looking back now, that behaviour was so Jisung, but your mother had been delighted to find out that you’d already met her best friend’s son.
It had been easy becoming friends with him after that. Every day, he’d drag you by your wrist and take you to the yard, insisting on doing your co-operative drawings together. The teachers had a fit everyday on the state of you two by the end of your break, but your mothers had loved it, taking a million and one pictures a second. He stuck up for you both to the teachers, and then he stuck up for you to the bullies and it was like you’d known each other since birth. Inseparable at the hip, you’d been glued together throughout preschool, primary school and now high school - it doesn’t look like you’re getting rid of him anytime soon, either. You’d applied for the same colleges.
You don’t particularly want to be rid of him anyway. He’s alright, really, and you had a bit of a girly, high school crush on him. You would rather jump off of a building like Spiderman sans the webs if anyone found out.
Another thing Jisung is good for is listening to your rants. He waits for your call every night after the news had been on, and you clamber on your bed obediently after the report finishes to press on his contact.
“Jisung!” You squeal. There’s a lot of feedback on his end, and you hear a low ‘shit, fuck, oops, oh God’, until there’s a loud thud and he giggles, chiming through your tinny phone speakers. “... Ji? Are you okay?”
“Yep, sorry, baby,” He sounds out of breath, but you smile when he speaks anyway. Whenever he calls you baby, his designated nickname for you, it makes your heart flutter and you have to grimace to ignore it. His face pops into the little square designated to him, his cheeks blushing pink and round eyes wide. His hair is slightly damp, from what you’re not sure - but he looks cute. “I just got home. I was- I was running some errands for my aunt.”
“God, she’s got you running like crazy lately,” You mumble, still jotting down numbers on your homework. It’s taken you hours, but you always get distracted on nights like this. “Did you see it?”
Jisung hums, and then you hear him groan. He’s stretching, slightly toned honey-skinned arms appearing above his head in the plain oversized t-shirt he’s wearing. You try not to stare. “Did I see what?”
“The- the news, Sungie,” You feel shy mentioning it so outright. It is a weird interest, a weird thing to be obsessed with - Jisung often reassures you that it really isn’t, and his anime obsession was a lot worse. It was. You sigh, clearing your throat. “Spiderman. He was- he was super cool tonight.”
“Ooh, was he?” Jisung teases, chuckling when you groan in protest. “I’m only playing with you, baby. I saw it. He was super cool, wasn’t he?”
“Ha-ha, super cool, ‘cause he’s a superhero. You’re funny.”
“That’s why you keep me around,” Jisung chirps. “Hey, have you done the maths homework? I haven’t had time, because of the errands, y’know.”
“Hmm, yeah, I’m almost finished,” You aren’t. You’re far from it, really, but he doesn’t have to know that. “I can let you copy it tomorrow morning, before class.”
“No, that’s alright, baby. We can just cross-check our answers tomorrow,” His voice sounds tired, but you don’t comment. It’s better not to question Jisung when he’s like this.
His aunt has him doing a lot these days. You haven’t wanted to ask about it because you know it must be tough for her to look after Jisung since his parents passed, especially when Jisung is always going at full speed and is probably seconds away from giving his aunt a heart attack. He was always clumsy as a child, too, snapping his glasses in half and having a few broken bones to tell long stories about. He always means well, but sometimes you wish that he had something else to get his energy out of his system rather than stressing his aunt out.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
“Jisung, surely you know who Spiderman is, like, underneath the mask,” Seungmin quips through a mouthful of dry, government regulated school food. “You spent all that time with Bang Chan in the internship.”
Seungmin is a lanky boy that just came along one day and decided to be yours and Jisung’s friend. With him, he brought a younger, smiley guy named Jeongin, and Jeongin brought Felix. Felix is just Felix - nothing else can describe him. Before long, you’d found yourself in a de facto group of misfits that you weren’t even sure you could call friends. Apart from Jisung, of course.
Jisung simply raises an eyebrow in response to Seungmin. “I mean, sure. I met Mr Bang a few times, but I never met Spiderman. Not out of his suit, anyway.”
You gasp. Jeongin startles from the nap he was taking on the cafeteria table, raising his head to look at you angrily. Felix pushes his head back down from the hood on his jumper and Jeongin immediately falls back to sleep. “You met him in his suit?”
“Well, yeah,” Jisung shrugs. When he turns to look at you, your mouth is agape, feeling slightly betrayed. Jisung shoves another spoonful of cheese - was it really cheese? - pasta into his mouth, and then he’s sighing. “It’s not a big deal, baby. If I really met him, the real him, you’d be the first to know. I promise.”
“You still got that fat crush on Spiderman?” Felix chirps. You meet his amused gaze with your own steely glare, pouting over your packed lunch.
“It’s not a crush-”
“It’s an interest,” Jisung clarifies for you, and you smile. He’s always jumping to your defence like that. You bite into an apple, savouring the crisp, fruity taste on your tongue, and then the bell rings. Sighing, you watch as the boys around you get up - including Jeongin, fox like eyes bleary from sleep - and swing their bags on their shoulders.
“I’ll see you later,” You murmur to Jisung, who throws his arm around your waist in a quick hug. “Enjoy English.”
Right. You and Jisung didn’t have the same classes. He has English now, and you have chemistry, which is probably your least favourite of all classes. You just weren’t a fan of the whole blowing shit up scenario, unlike Jeongin was, and the boy trundles behind you towards your chemistry class.
The class is boring. The teacher drones on and on about some experiment you couldn’t care less about, and you pretend to care. You’re taking notes, sure, ever the diligent student - but you can’t get anything other than Spiderman out of your mind. Jisung met him, and didn’t tell you, and who even is this guy? You’d love to know. You’d love to just see him, even once, just to be able to tell the story.
A massive crash stops the teacher’s speech. He turns to the door, confused, and the students do the same. You do too, furrowed eyebrows staring at the door. Another crash causes people to begin to rise, and the teacher starts ushering everyone out of the class to the closest exit route. You’re frozen in confusion and fear, pencil halted in your fingers, even as another noise makes the teacher run out behind the class.
It’s quiet for a moment, and you’re still sitting in your seat, eyes wide and heart racing. Then, you spring up to follow the rest of your cohort, sneakers squeaking against the tiled floor as you run to the door. Swinging it open, you stick your head out the door and look around, trying to see if the coast is clear. With a planet full of interdimensional attacks, you can’t be sure, and looking left leads you to see a scaly, large animal type of thing. You squeak, startled, and immediately retreat into the class before it notices you. What the fuck do you do? What are you meant to do?
The whole room begins to shake, and you have a feeling the creature’s getting closer. Beakers are thrown to the floor from the vibration ringing throughout the room, glass shattering loudly, and you feel like you’re about to scream, or cry, or run, and you can’t run.
Doing the only thing you can think of, you cower to the floor, hiding underneath a table donned in smashed beakers. You’re curled up in a ball, watching students standing outside murmuring and discussing their own safety, and then the shaking stops.
The door swings open. Everything outside the classroom is too intimidating, items being thrown everywhere, and you can’t even bring your legs to move with how badly they’re shaking. Who’s just walked in? You pray for Jisung. You pray for someone who’s going to help you hide, someone who’s going to keep you safe, and then-
A masked face pops underneath the table. He’s lithe, slender, but the tight red and dark blue suit highlights the hint of abs and sculpted biceps on his body. Holy fucking shit. Your eyes widen. Spiderman is in your school.
“Are you okay?” His voice is deep, but it sounds almost like someone putting on a deeper voice to hide their identity. You nod hesitantly, and then he’s extending a gloved hand towards you, pulling you out from underneath the table. You’re unable to speak. Once you’re standing in front of him, you notice he’s around a head or so taller than you, but definitely not as tall as you thought he’d be. He sighs, chest heaving with panic. You suppose it must be pretty tough work fighting aliens from outer space. “I’ve webbed him up for now, but it won’t hold much longer. Go- please, go and run. Please, anywhere, just- go and hide, or run.”
“I-I-”
“Promise me, b- um, you. I can’t let you get hurt.”
You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. “I- Yes, I promise, I’m going to- I’ll go, thank you, thank you-”
“Wait, no!” He shouts, rubbing his temples - or at least, you’d imagine he was but he’s just rubbing the mask in frustration. You watch as he bounds over to the window, kicking it open, and the students outside turn to the classroom in awe. You’re rooted in place, as if vines are circling your ankles and securing you to the floor, mouth agape. You wait for him to give you further directions, and you gasp when he runs back over to you, picking you up and carrying you over to the window. You feel light as a feather, and all you can think is how he’s even carrying this amount of strength in that small body. “Too risky. Outside.”
“O-Outside?” You stammer, cheeks bright red, and he nods. He leans to place you out of the window, delicately placing you on your feet, and then he speeds off, shouting a quick “see you later!”.
You blink. You can hear the noises of walls breaking and windows shattering as Spiderman fights, and Felix runs up to you from the crowd outside and slings an arm over your shoulder. You’re still staring inside the classroom as if you can see through walls and watch the fight. What did see you later mean?
What’s the likelihood, honestly? You knew he was the friendly neighbourhood guy, and all that, but why not Bang Chan, in his sleek nanotech suit? This was a big fight. You find yourself getting worried, biting your nails in concern for the man you don’t even know. You have to remind yourself of that. He saved you because you’re any other citizen, not for any other specialty - you don’t know this guy.
“C’mon, over here,” Felix ushers you over, tone soft. When you’re with him, Seungmin and Jeongin, he sighs, rubbing your back. “Crazy, right? At least you can say you met Spiderman now.”
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
Jisung is safe, thank god. You kind of feel guilty for not worrying about him at the moment, but he’d text you shortly after, saying he’d left just before it all kicked off because he felt a little under the weather. He wanted to make sure you were okay, though, so he texted you as soon as he could. You’d never admit the blush that rose to your cheeks when you read it.
It’s quiet in your room. Your parents had sprinted to you as soon as you’d come through the door, having seen the situation on the news, and you’d reassured them that Spiderman had saved you. It definitely changed your dad’s perspective of him, and now you lie on your bed feeling more than relieved.
Your fingers tap on your tummy in thought, though. He was making his voice deeper, that much you could tell, but why? How was he there so quickly? There’s no fucking way he was a student. Still, that body in the tight suit… you’d definitely been looking. You’re a woman, of course you were going to look. He had a figure enviable to every man. Broad shoulders, abs just slightly visible, strong legs that carried you over to the window…
In your dreamlike fantasy, you’re considering something you previously never would’ve thought of. What if Jisung was underneath that suit? Now, that would be perfect. Both of your crushes being one being, Jisung pulling that suit up his lithe thighs and letting it settle over his broad pecs.
Before you know it, your hand is dipping under the hem of your pyjama pants, unable to feel guilty for thinking about your best friend in this way. Besides, it wouldn’t be the first time, with many of your nights spent whimpering into your pillow and coming apart on your own fingers wishing they were his. He had such nice hands… What if it was him who had grabbed you from underneath that table? Your hand trails down to find your folds, slick and ready for whatever you had in store, but you focus on your clit, swollen and aching between your bottom lips. Would he finger you in the gloves if you asked, let you ride his abs in the suit until completion? Would he kiss you upside down, hanging from the-
A tap on your window makes you jump. The room is dark, save for your bedside lamp, and you turn rapidly to see a faceless figure just about popping in from the corner. You yank your hand out of your bottoms, squeaking, and then you squint to try and see the figure closer.
Holy shit. Spiderman is at your bedroom window.
Your cotton tank top is revealing, so you turn immediately to reach for your dressing gown and tie it around your figure. You pad over to the window in your socks, still wide-eyed and completely baffled, and then you turn the handle to allow him access. What the fuck?
“What the fuck?” You blurt, toes curling against your floor. Spiderman swings inside instead of responding, walking around your room like he’s been there a million times before. “No, seriously, what the fuck?”
He turns to you, shrugging. “I said I’d see you later, didn’t I?”
You blanch. He did say that, yes, but that still doesn’t explain the million questions you have right now. “Well, yeah, but- how do you know where I live?”
“I- uh, found it in the school office,” He hops up onto your bed, sitting cross legged. His mask hides his face, but he hums in pleasure at the feeling of the bedsheets on him. “After the fight, I went in there. Glad you’re okay, by the way.”
He’s still making his voice deeper, and you blink, nodding in response. “I’m great. Can I- can I ask why you’re here?”
He shrugs again, fiddling with a loose thread on your duvet. “No reason. Got bored. I was swinging around and remembered I saw your address on the computer.”
“Right,” You shake your head, still baffled. Instead of questioning him further, you jump onto the bed in front of him and copy his position, cross legged. “Don’t you have, like, recovering to do? I heard you got beat pretty bad.”
“Nah, no way,” He scoffs, rolling his neck. You suppress a smile. Cocky. “Spider venom, y’know? It repairs everything super quick.”
You were right. You can’t suppress a smile at his response, clicking your fingers at his masked face. “I fucking knew it! I guessed it was the venom.”
He stops fiddling with the duvet, turning to you and tilting his head in question. “You’re smart, aren’t you? Hey, are you the one that’s friends with that kid?”
You narrow your eyes. Jisung’s a liar. If Spiderman knows who he is, that means they’ve met more than once, and Jisung lied. You reach for your phone, ready to bitch him out via text, but Spiderman knocks your phone out of your hand. You turn to him, confused.
“Talk to me,” He whines. “I told you I was bored!”
You roll your eyes. “Okay, damn. Yes, I’m friends with Jisung. Why?”
“No reason,” He wiggles forward on your bed, grabbing your hand. You’re confused, but then he launches you into an intense thumb war, one that you were never going to win. Everytime you go to move your thumb in response to his, he’s got you pinned, and before he speaks again you’re five rounds down. “He’s pretty cool, right?”
“Who?” You ask, still focusing on the thumb war.
“Jisung,” He clarifies, clearing his throat. Making his voice that deep must be taking its toll on his vocal chords. “He’s kinda cool. Super smart, I thought.”
“He definitely is,” You laugh when he pins your thumb down again, swatting at his wrist to get him off of you. “He’s smarter than me.”
“And, uh,” He clears his throat again, leaning back on your bed. Leaning back like that, you have a full view of his body in his suit, and you have to stare at the posters on your wall to avoid looking at him. He puts his hands behind his head, the full picture of relaxation, and you wished he’d stop throwing you this random curveball behaviour. “Is that all you think of him? Just smart?”
You blush, finally reverting your eyes to him. “What do you mean?”
“I just mean… Do you have a crush on him, or?”
“Who wants to know?” You bristle, playing with your hands in your lap. You look down at your chipped nail polish, awkwardly shifting on the bed in your pyjamas. “I don’t even know who you are.”
“No one knows who I am,” He responds easily. “I want to know. Tell me. Do you have a crush on him?”
“I’m not telling you that-”
“I’m bored!” He whines again, sitting up. You let him grab your hand again, pulling your pinky finger into a promise. You swear you see the mask smile. “Tell me!”
“Okay, damn,” You sigh, exasperated. Was he on molly or something? Are you dreaming? “I guess so. I guess I always have, yeah, I don’t know. I don’t think he’d ever like me like that.”
He coos at that, taking your hand in his. It’s strangely comforting. “Why not?”
“He’s- well, I don’t think I’m good enough for someone like him,” You admit, scratching the back of your neck. “It’s awkward. He’s my best friend. It would ruin things, and I guess I’ve never let myself think about it like that.”
“You should,” He hums. You blink, staring at him. What the hell is he on about? “I just mean you should. Maybe he likes you too, y’know? I like my best friend. I’d love to know if she likes me back.”
“You do?” You wiggle closer, eager to know more. “You like your best friend? What’s she like?”
“Well,” He strokes your hand again before pulling away, leaning his chin on his hand. “She’s super pretty. Smart, too. I’ve known her since like, forev- for a few years, I think, in total.”
“It’s kind of the same with me and Jisung,” You sigh again, pouting. “I’ve known him for my whole life, basically. I’m just scared it’ll ruin things, but I think about him a lot when I’m on my own.”
He snickers. “Really? Like when you’re doing what you were doing when I got here?”
You swat at his shoulder, blushing bright red. “Shut up, oh my god! I thought you- shut up. Just don’t.”
“Maybe he thinks about you then too, I don’t know,” He shrugs nonchalantly, and then he’s getting up and pacing around. You watch him fiddle with a few photo frames on your desk, humming at ones of you and Jisung when you were younger and even fiddling with a few of your academic medals and prizes. “I won’t tell him, by the way.”
“You see him often?” You ask, voice soft. “He said-”
“Nah, I’ve only seen him once or twice,” He stretches his arms above his head, still staring at your desk full of trinkets. “He doesn’t know who I am.”
“Can I know?”
He turns to you. “Know what?”
“I want to know who you are,” Your voice is confident, but you feel anything but, teeth chewing your bottom lip nervously. “You saved me, and now you’re in my bedroom. I feel that I deserve to know.”
He sighs loudly this time, walking towards the window. “When we get to know eachother better, maybe.”
“Wait, hang on,” You watch him sling a foot out of the window, exasperated. He can’t leave! “Where are you going? I thought you said you were bored-”
“Things to do, baby,” He replies quickly. You blink. That ‘baby’ sounds awfully familiar, and you stand up quickly to walk towards the window, but he’s already webbing away. “Bye!”
You stand there, shocked and confused. He’s swinging from building to building away from you, and you’re just standing there like an idiot. You were interrupted before you could even start touching yourself, forced into a thumb war and coerced into admitting your deepest, darkest secret, and then he just… leaves? Just like that?
Your life is proving to be a little more interesting than you thought, but your dreams were filled with familiar round cheeks beneath a red and blue mask.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
“Baby, is there a reason why your eyes are burning holes into the side of my head?”
You’re convinced your best friend is Spiderman. There, sitting beside you with his glasses sliding down his nose and comfortable in a grey hoodie and pink Hello Kitty pyjama bottoms on, it’s hard to believe. But you’re not stupid.
First of all, since he started that internship with Mr Bang, he’s been weird about letting you inside his room. This is the same person that you had many sleepovers with growing up, and as recently as a few months ago you’d been cuddling in bed together watching Howl’s Moving Castle. He has something to hide, but you’d been let down when you’d arrived at his house earlier and shouldered past him to find literally nothing of suspicion inside his room, other than an anime girl mouse pad with the boobs to rest your wrist on. You knew that existed though, ever since his birthday last year when Felix had gifted it to him, so what gives?
Secondly, Sohee is more stressed out than ever. You’d caught sight of her flitting around the kitchen when you arrived for your homework friend-date, scrubs on and ready to head to the hospital but still panicking about something. Jisung said multiple times that he’d been helping her out more and that’s why he’s been so busy lately. She shouldn’t still be panicking.
Thirdly, Spiderman wouldn’t make his voice deeper to you unless you knew him. He wouldn’t need to, or you wouldn’t recognise his voice - unless it’s a habit he’s picked up, perhaps. That doesn’t change that the way he called you baby last night sounded a little bit too familiar, too comfortable. It came out of his mouth like second nature.
Still, it makes no sense. Surely Jisung would have told you? You’re his best friend, he said so, so he’d tell you. Or would he? Maybe Felix knows. You’re also hoping deep down that it isn’t true, because if it is, you told your crush last night that you liked him.
You can’t even be mad at Jisung for it. He’s still staring at you, and you’re staring blankly back while shoving snacks into your mouth. There’s crumbs all over your homework.
“Jisung,” You begin, and he hums in response. “Would you tell me your deepest, most serious secret if I worked it out?”
He chokes on his energy drink, spluttering neon blue liquid all over his bed. You want to giggle, to make fun of him, but you’re sure you’ve gotten somewhere here. He wipes his mouth, clears his throat, and turns back to you. His hands are shaky where they clutch his textbook, and his eyes are almost blurry through the glasses. “I tell you everything anyway.”
“I don’t think you do,” You respond, quick as a beat. He blinks, lips parting. “Not by that reaction, Jisung. I think you’re hiding something from me.”
He scratches his nose with the end of his pen, looking down at the textbook again. You raise an eyebrow. “I’m not hiding anything.”
“Okay,” You hum. He sighs, scribbling something on the paper. It’s so quiet in the room that you can hear his pen scribbling, but you’re speaking again before you can even think. “Did I tell you Spiderman came to my room last night?”
He gulps audibly. “Nope.”
“Yeah, it was kinda weird,” You take a sip from your energy drink, still staring at him vacantly. Jisung’s eyes flit up to you, and then back down to the textbook. Oh, he knows. He knows that you know. He knows that you know that he knows. “He saved me in school, when that alien thing was there, and then he came to my room and asked me about you.”
“He, uh- really? Did he?”
“Mhm,” Your gaze is steely. “Jisung, I know you’re Spiderman.”
Jisung bursts out laughing. It would be believable, but you’ve known him since you were four years old and it’s a fake laugh. He’s cackling, loud as brass, and he lets out a little “ooh” afterwards as if he can’t believe you. “Baby, that’s the craziest theory you’ve ever come up with.”
“Is it?” You question, head tilting to the side. Then, in the smartest moment you’ve ever had, you pick up Jisung’s energy drink from the floor. He’s still looking at you, a fake smile on his lips, and you take a sip from it casually. Sharing drinks isn’t new for you. You glug back the artificial blue raspberry flavour, and then keeping eye contact with him, you let go.
Before the can is able to fall and spill the rest of its contents over your own textbook, and inevitably Jisung’s One Piece bed sheets, he reaches out and grabs it, hand wrapping around the can, quick as a flash. It all happens in about a second, and you gasp. Jisung gasps. His hand tightens around the can and it crinkles, an impossible show of strength, and then he’s blinking at you. You raise an eyebrow.
“I knew it.”
He puts the can safely on the bedside table, and then he’s slamming his textbook shut. You watch in confusion as he paces back and forth on his bedroom floor, running his hands through his hair over and over.
“Okay!” He points at you, victorious. “That was a reflex. I knew you were going to do that, I’m smart, duh! I knew you were going to drop the can to prove something, and-”
“Jisung,” You say, voice soft. He stops pacing, sock clad feet rooted on the carpet to stare at you. You’re going to get him. You’re going to get him good. “Do you not want me to know? Is that what this is?”
He immediately falls to the floor, head resting on your knee as he looks up at you. You can’t even feel sorry for him, because your plan is working perfectly. His eyes are round and vulnerable, and then he clenches them shut in distress. You think he’s probably a second away from crying. “Baby, it’s not that. I wanted to protect you. It would be dangerous if the bad guys knew who you were, knew that you knew, and I know I shouldn’t have come to your room, that was wrong of me, and-”
You giggle. Jisung furrows his eyebrows, eyes opening. “I knew I was right.” He gasps, pointing at you again.
“Judas! You’re a judas!” He’s shocked, leaning back on his haunches and staring at you. “I can’t- I can’t believe you, that was so-”
“Sneaky? Good? Smart?” You list, leaning back on his twin bed. He stands up, hands on his hips. You’re ready for him to bitch you out, but you don’t care - you knew that you had to know, had to have it confirmed. He taps his foot, and then you see a smile break out on his lips.
“Okay, yeah, that was pretty good,” He hums, returning to the bed. You let him shut your own textbook and sprawl across you, head in your lap. “I’m sorry, baby. I should’ve told you.”
You sigh, reaching down to run your fingers through his hair. “That’s okay, Ji. It’s fine. I’m just a little embarrassed.”
“Embarrassed? Why?” Jisung asks, his eyes fluttering shut from the feeling of your nails on his scalp. You want to scoff. Embarrassed for two major reasons - one, because you’ve been gushing about how cool Spiderman is for weeks, maybe even months, and two because you told Spiderman last night that you liked Jisung. Spiderman and Jisung are the same person. Sure, it makes things easier. You no longer have a crush on two people, only one, but it doesn’t change the fact that Jisung knows and is yet to say anything.
“I’ve been talking to you about Spiderman for weeks,” You blush, pushing his hair off of his forehead. He whines, thrashing his feet and shaking his head like a dog to hide his forehead again. He’s so dramatic. You like him so bad. “And- and you- it was you, then. You came to my room last night.”
“Yeah, that was risky,” He responds, exasperated. “I just had to, baby. I don’t know, you always seemed so interested in Spiderman and not me. I needed to know if you saw me like you saw him.”
You pause your movements on his head, blinking at the wall in front of you. When you turn back to him, he’s blushing, teeth gnawing his bottom lip. His eyes are conveniently staring at the window, away from you.
“Jisung,” You start, hesitant. “What do you mean?”
He sits up sharply. “Wanna go on the roof?”
“T-The roof? Jisung, how are we gonna- oh. Oh.”
Jisung jumps up from the bed, toeing his sliders onto his feet and pushing the window open. It gives you deja vu - that same figure was pushing the window open just like this to place you safely outside in school yesterday, and then he was coming through your window to see you late at night. It’s hard to believe that they’re the same person, the man you admired so much and your best friend who’s standing by the window expectantly waiting for you to join him.
You hesitantly stand up, brushing off imaginary crumbs from your joggers and looking at Jisung. He smiles, a soft, reassuring smile, and then he’s scooping you up from the floor and wrapping your legs around his waist. It’s slender, the plush flesh of your thighs almost obscuring it, and you squeak in surprise at being in the air.
“I- Jisung?!”
“You have to hold on tight,” He says. His face is inches away from yours, plush lips looking more than appealing and his glasses making him look so endearing. “I need my hands for this, so hold onto my shoulders.”
You nod, face blushing crimson at the realisation of just how close you are. Would he have you like this if he fucked you? Legs around his waist, hands on his shoulders, his face so close to yours as he pants and whines and moans-
You squeak again when he slides out of the window, and then you see him in action. His hands stick to the outside of the apartment building, feet kicking up against the concrete wall. Your heart is racing so badly it feels as though it could burst out of your chest, but you’re not sure if it’s because of the height or because you’re tightly pressed against Jisung.
When he swings you both over the side ledge on the roof, you notice the sun’s set already. Time always goes by quickly with Jisung, but the stars are already out, and the air is crisp and biting against your limbs despite the layers. Once he’s safely stood on the roof, he places his hands underneath your thighs and detaches you from his firm body, placing you on your feet.
You’re disorientated, shocked at the sheer height of the building and at the way Jisung seems to be swinging you around like it’s nothing, but he’s simply staring at you. A wide smile stretches from ear to ear, and he blinks when you don’t say anything. “It’s cool, right?”
“Y-Yeah, super cool,” You admit, chest heaving. “Really high up, but cool. Jisung, why are we on the roof?”
He’s wrangling you, hands on your arms and pushing you to the floor. It feels firm, but with what you now know about him, you know he’s holding back. He plops down next to you, eyes wide and expectant.
“I wanted to do it properly,” He begins. He pauses for a moment, licks his lips, pushes his glasses up his nose, and then he’s speaking again. “I like you, so that’s why I asked. Is it romantic up here? It feels romantic, but I’m not too sure-“
He stands up and begins pacing around the roof before you realise he’s even moved. You raise an eyebrow. “Jisung?”
“I wanted to do this right, y’know?” He pauses, hands on his hips. He looks comical, trying to assert dominance over you like that in those Hello Kitty pyjama trousers. “I- I wanted to swing by and like, grab you, or something? But then you worked it out, and now I’m just standing here with you on a roof…”
He continues mumbling like a mad scientist, eyes focused on a spot next to your head. You stand up, making your way towards him, and he still refuses to look at you. He likes you back. He likes you back, and he’s still your best friend - he’s still Jisung, but he’s also Spiderman, and you’re okay with that. You don’t have to like two people. You only like one, and it’s your goofy best friend.
“Is this even romantic? You know, we could just forget about it and-“
You press your lips to his. He doesn’t make any form of surprised noise, only cupping your cheeks with his hands and pulling you close to him. His glasses bump against your face, his lips pouty against yours and plush and maybe a bit too wet for a first kiss, but you’d always figured he’d take it too far. That’s what you like about him. Jisung never does anything by halves.
It’s brief, too brief for your liking, but then he’s pulling away with a satisfied grin on his face. You blink. Wait.
“Wait, your stupid- your stupid spidey things. Did you know I was going to kiss you?” You pout, and he giggles. “No, seriously! Could you like- I don’t know, feel it coming?”
“Not until you were like, a few inches from my face,” Jisung admits, and his teeth gleam in the brilliance of the evening. “I had a feeling you might.”
You sigh. “So why didn’t you stop talking?”
“Dunno,” He shrugs. “I couldn’t stop once I started.”
The statement is so true to Jisung, so in character for your best friend that you can do nothing but accept it.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
It’s easy to fall into a different routine with Jisung.
He never asked you to be his girlfriend. You’re pretty sure you’re fine with that, though - things have had a natural manner of progressing, and now your best friend slash boyfriend slash superhero turns up at your window every night after he’s been on his neighbourhood patrol. Sometimes he’s a little bruised, and sometimes he’s just looking for consolation kisses.
It’s a normal night for you when it happens. Jisung’s halfway out of your bedroom window on his way to perform perfect justice, pulling his mask down over his annoyingly beautiful face. You’re standing a few feet away grinning like an idiot.
“I’ll see you later, my baby,” You can see his grin through the mask. The eyes on his mask form beautiful crescent moons with his happiness. He falters, legs swinging on your windowsill. “Wait. I am coming back here, yeah?”
“Of course,” You giggle. He sends you two fingers in a mock salute, and you watch him begin his journey up the wall to your roof. A beat passes and you’re still standing there, smiling, hands on your hips, and then the masked head of your best friend pops back down into your window, upside down, tilting to the side in confusion. You blink, confused. “What is it, Sungie?”
“Well, where’s my goodbye kiss? Damn,” He huffs, and you roll your eyes playfully. You make your way to the window, sock-clad feet padding on your carpet, and you pull his mask down to his eyes with two fingers. It miraculously stays on his head, and his lips form a teasing grin.
Despite him being upside down, you place a chaste kiss to his lips, and you watch in amusement as he swings away afterwards. You can still hear him giggling with glee from a few buildings away.
It’s a few hours later when he comes back. You’re flicking through a book for English, scrawling notes and highlighting words on sticky notes. It’s started to rain, and the city lights only look brighter in the dusk with the pattering of water on your window. You left it open, of course, for your superhero, but the cold air bites at your arms even through the fluffy blanket you’ve got wrapped around yourself.
Just as you’re beginning to contemplate closing it, a louder, more prominent tap hits the glass. When you turn to the window, Jisung is slouched against your windowsill, chest heaving beneath red lycra and forehead pressed against the glass. He’s got his mask between his teeth, and his hair is dishevelled, floppy brown locks obscuring his eyes. You can still catch sight of the bruising on his cheekbones and you gasp, rushing towards the window.
You drop your blanket in shock, but you swing the window open, pulling Jisung inside with one hand. He stumbles through, disoriented and confused, and you lead him to sit on the edge of your bed.
“Got hurt,” He explains, huffing out a breath. The mask drops from his teeth unceremoniously, with a wet plop to your carpeted floor, but you don’t care. You rush to sit next to him, fingers gripping his chin to pull him to face you. His eyes are round, sincere, and he gives you a soft smile. “It’ll heal before long, baby, don’t panic.”
“I am panicking,” You say, resolute, because you really are. Bruising is scattered across his cheekbones, fading into green on the plush of his cheeks and his lip looks like it had been burst, but is already healing. “Will it- will it take long? Do you need me to get the first aid kit, or-“
“Baby,” He shakes his head, grabbing your hands. You watch with parted lips as he leans forward, both of you cross legged on the end of your bed. It reminds you of when Spiderman first visited you, when you weren’t quite sure of his identity. Jisung presses his forehead against yours, and you let him look into your eyes. It’s like he’s demanding everything that’s ever gone through your head to be vocalised. You’d tell him if he asked. “I’m really okay. I’m a little shaken up, but I’m fine. Most of it is on my ribs from falling, to be honest.”
“Your ribs?!” You shriek. “Show me. Let me see, I need to help you-“
You’re already trying to wrangle Jisung out of his suit, and he giggles, clearly thinking this is all just some game. He holds his arms up pliantly, though, and you don’t have the thought processing ability within you to realise that Jisung’s suit is an all-in-one and you’re currently stripping him down to his boxers.
The suit is wet too when you drop it to the floor, and before long you’re blinking at your best friend in his plain black boxers and he’s grinning at you as if this is any other day. There’s no bruising on his ribs. You’re staring at his abs, regardless, so you’re not sure you would’ve even noticed.
“You look fine.”
“I told you it heals quickly, baby,” He grins. You blink when he wriggles on your bed, laying on his back and stretching his arms above his head again, this time to get comfortable. His legs stretch out too, and you avoid looking anywhere below his waist.
His body is a spectacle. You can’t stop looking. Broad shoulders taper off into an extremely defined chest and a tight, thin waist adorned with prominent abdominal muscles, before reaching a v-line that leads into his boxers. You’re wide eyed, wanting nothing more than to reach out and run your fingers down his honey toned skin.
“Why-“ You cough, clearing your throat. Jisung raises an eyebrow. He’s grinning from ear to ear, teeth gleaming. “Why did you let me strip you if you’re literally fine?”
The bruising on his cheek is already fading. He shrugs nonchalantly, crossing his arms over his chest. His biceps bulge with the movement and you think you might choke on your own spit. “You seemed pretty determined, so I just allowed it. You wanted to see me naked, I assumed, so-“
“Jisung!” You wail, slapping his shoulder. He groans in pain, catching your hand, and he grits his teeth with a hiss.
“My shoulder! Fuck, that hurt, ouch, baby! What was that for?!”
You gasp. He clutches his shoulder, letting out little pants of hurt sounding noises. You let your head fall to his chest, engulfing him with a hug. “Jisung, I’m so sorry-“
“Hehe,” He giggles. When you look at him, he’s sticking his tongue out, completely fine. You groan, annoyed you fell for it, and then he’s grabbing your forearms and pulling you upwards on top of him.
Your breasts press against his chest like this, due to your lack of bra in your sleep shirt, and his eyes widen when he feels it. Instead of letting you go, his hands move to your back, encompassing you in his strong hold.
You gasp, wiggling in his grip, and he licks his lips. His eyes go to your lips, and then back up to your eyes, as if he’s hesitant.
“I-“ He begins, faltering. “Are you my girlfriend?”
You scoff out a laugh. “I don’t know, am I?”
“I hope so,” Jisung admits, his facial expression vulnerable. His eyes dart to something behind you, as if he’s not sure, almost shy. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen him shy. “I don’t know. I didn’t ask, but I want you to be, if you want to be.”
“I want to be,” You nod. He nods in response, and you watch his eyes flicker to your lips again. It’s silent for a moment, and then he leans in, pressing his lips against yours.
The kiss is more charged than usual. Before now, you’re used to chaste, fleeting kisses from your superhero, but now he lets his tongue tease against the seam of your lips. Your eyes flutter shut, and his eyelashes brush against your skin where he does the same. You let your lips part, and Jisung’s quick to grip your back harder, tongue darting inside your mouth with impatience.
You’ve made out with someone before. You’d never had sex with someone before, but you had made out with someone. It was only once at a party when you were a little bit younger but it had felt like a good idea at the time. You’re sure Jisung’s lost his virginity though, but when he whimpers against your lips and his hips squirm a little you’re not too sure.
You pull away from the kiss, lips a little wet, and Jisung’s mouth goes to your neck. You allow him to suck a mark into the expanse of skin just underneath your jaw, his fingers grabbing impatiently at your back. “Sungie, are you a virgin?”
Jisung pulls away, licking his lips. You feel something hard pressing against your thigh where you lay on top of him. You’re thanking every entity ever that your parents are out for a work dinner. “Yeah, I am. I would have told you if I wasn’t,” He confirms, a little breathless. His hips wiggle again. “Is that- is that okay, baby?”
“Yeah, of course,” You smile, comforting. You peck his lips again and he grins back at you. “I am too.”
“I know,” He responds, quick as a flash. You blush. That’s embarrassing. “No, I just mean- you also would’ve told me, y’know?”
“That’s true,” You shrug. You’re feeling a little overconfident, and you move in his hold, having felt it gone a little lax with your kissing. You let your thighs spread over his hips, his hard shaft pressing against your core through your pyjama bottoms and his boxers. You still feel it, though, and it makes your pussy gush a little. “Is- is this okay?”
He’s blushing. His lips part, and he nods, perhaps too eagerly because he clutches his neck afterwards like he’s got whiplash. “Baby, you’re- I have a pretty girl in my lap. This is so okay. Like, so okay, I might have a heart attack and die, probably.”
You shift, and he winces. “Sorry,” You say. It’s a fake apology. You want to swallow his cock down your throat until he cries, and you don’t even know how to. You’d try your best though. “If I lost my virginity, I’d want it to be with you.”
“Damn,” Jisung whistles, eyebrows raised. “Let me hit?”
You giggle, tilting your head to the side. “I’ll let you hit right now, Jisung.”
Jisung shoots upwards into a seated position. His eyes are wide. “Right now?”
“Right now,” You confirm. You go from straddling his lap to laying on your back on your bed in a flash, and Jisung looms over you, all tight, toned muscles and broad shoulders.
“I’ll make it so good, baby, I promise,” He says, and then he’s kissing you again. It’s even messier this time, lips pressing against yours over and over and his tongue adding a collection of spit to the mix. You let your thighs fall apart, his hips quick to fill the space and press his cock against you. His hands go to your waist as he kisses you, sucking and biting on your lips until you’re whining with it, but he doesn’t let up. He’s desperate, messy, and it’s only making your pussy drool even more.
The rain hits the window still, cooling off a little but still providing a calming effect to your room when combined with the orange-pink of your lamp. He inches his palms up your shirt, the softness of his hands surprising you, and then he’s pulling away from your mouth to yank the fabric over your head.
You’re left in just your pyjama bottoms, lips kiss bitten and nipples pebbled against the cool air of your bedroom. You never had shut your window, after all.
“Oh,” Jisung says, exasperated. You finally open your eyes to see him staring at your tits, and you think he might be drooling. “Oh, yeah, my baby. They are so fucking good.”
You almost laugh, but you’re cut off by your own strangled moan when his pouty lips engulf your right nipple. He sucks on it, hard, and when your back arches he lets it slip out of his mouth with a wet popping noise. It’s only a brief moment of reprieve before he’s letting his teeth skim along the bud, and you keen, fingers moving upwards from his shoulders to grip onto the pillow behind your head.
“Oh, that’s so- Sungie, baby, that feels good,” You whine, and he hums against your breast. When he moves to the other one, he tweaks your wet nipple between two fingers. It’s experimental, but the whole thing is, and you buck your hips up impatiently.
His hands move to your ass, scooping underneath you and making you grind slightly against him. The movement makes him moan, your nipple leaving his mouth. A string of drool attaches to his lips and his tongue lolls out lazily, and before you can process it, he’s grinding his cock into your clothed centre.
“Oh- oh, fuck,” He whines, eyes clenching shut. You whimper in response, arms wrapping around his shoulders. “Baby- baby, baby. Baby, I’ve thought about this so much, I- fuck, you’re gonna feel so good around my cock.”
His words are so crude that they make you keen, nodding enthusiastically. “I thought about it too. I- I touched myself thinking about it, Sungie, did you?”
He gasps sharply, and there’s a fumbling between your legs. He rocks backwards on his haunches, and you see him gripping his cock impatiently underneath his boxers, fingers wrapped tight around the base.
“I will literally cum if I imagine that,” He huffs, breathless. “But yes. I did, many times, and- and- baby, can I see your pussy?”
It’s so bold that you can’t say no. You never would have dreamed of saying no anyway, and you nod, wiggling your bottoms down your legs. You never wear a bra or panties underneath your pyjamas, and your pussy is revealed to him in all its drooly glory, folds sticking together with your arousal.
Jisung’s jaw goes slack. You watch him jerk his cock, eyes fixated on your wet hole, and you shift impatiently.
“I showed you mine, Sungie,” You huff. “Show me yours.”
He nods, eyes still glued to your pussy. Your clit is swollen with arousal, some wetness stuck onto it, and you reach down to trace your fingertips over it absentmindedly while he pushes his boxers down. His cock slaps up against the bottom of his tummy, cockhead leaking beneath his foreskin, precum slicking the smattering of hair at his base. His balls look heavy, shaft swollen and fat between lithe thighs, and you can’t help but go a little googly eyed at the thought of him stretching you out.
He grabs it, pumps his cock a few times while you rub your fingers over your clit. “Is- is it okay, baby?” He gasps, cock leaking steadily in his fist.
“You’re so sexy, Sungie, ‘s so big. I- oh,” You whine, spreading your arousal over your folds. You prop your feet up, letting your legs fall wide, and the movement must expose your soppy hole to Jisung because his eyes widen even further. “I want you inside of me so bad. I’ve wanted it for so long, I just- shit, Jisung, what are you-“
You’re cut off by him diving between your legs. His cock is forgotten, his hands looping around your ass again to spread you wide, and his tongue presses against your core. He moans at the taste, and you whimper out loud, head rolling against your pillow. It’s messy and you can tell he’s inexperienced, but when he sucks your clit between his lips you can’t find it in you to care.
“Oh, oh- baby, baby! You’re good at that, so good at that, baby,” You babble, trying your best not to grind up into his mouth. His mouth is just as wet as your pussy, his lips drooling all over you. You’re cut short when he flattens his tongue against your core, moaning out loud, and his hands move your ass just a bit. “I- you- Sungie-?”
“Grind on my face, baby, c’mon,” He murmurs, muffled by your folds, and you oblige. Your hand goes to his hair, yanking on the dark brown strands, and you hold him in place while you grind your pussy senseless on his tongue. Your boy is good with his mouth, you realise - he’s pliant, letting you make yourself cum on his tongue and lips, and after only a few grinds you’re sure you’re going to fall apart for him.
“Ah! Ah, oh, baby, your mouth is- Sungie, Sungie,” You whine, feet kicking on the bed. Your legs go flat, but as the pleasure builds up in your core, your thighs tighten around his ears. He likes this, moaning loud to the point the vibrations make you jolt. It’s all so wet, your pussy dripping with arousal and his saliva, dripping down to your asshole. It has you wondering if Jisung would eat your ass further down the line, and your eyes flicker to his - would he let you eat his? He probably would, with how submissive he’s being.
His hips buck downwards on the bed and he keens into your pussy, and you realise he’s humping your mattress. He’s so desperate for you that he just can’t help himself, and you moan, loud and unabashed. The sight has you hurtling towards your orgasm.
“I’m gonna fucking cum, baby,” You warn, and he finally lets up, pulling back to suck on your clit. His hand moves over to the top of your pussy, pulling your mound backwards, and the exposure of your clit directly to his lips is your downfall. You wail, bucking your hips into his mouth, and you can hear yourself talking and moaning but you’re not sure what you’re saying, only able to feel your hole gushing into Jisung’s mouth over and over.
Jisung licks over your clit a few times comfortingly, and then he’s on top of you again, face looming over yours. His right hand holds him up steadily and the other stays downwards, hooked on your thigh to keep you open.
“You taste delicious, baby,” He grins, mouth wet. When he presses his lips to yours he’s desperate, tongue darting into your mouth to let you taste your own cum. You let your hands fall to his chest, fingernails digging into the muscles. The filthiness of it all has you wriggling around impatiently again, and Jisung’s cockhead slips against your clit, making you whine into his mouth. He pulls away, gasping for air with the sensation, and you kiss the beauty spot on his cheek for good measure. “Baby. M-my baby, shit, can- can I fuck you now? Have you got a condom, I- shit, I need to fuck you?”
He’s breathless, giggling at his own desperation, and you nod eagerly. You’re on the pill, and realistically you’d want nothing more than him to creampie you, but you have a shred of logic still left in your brain. “No condom. I- I don’t have any, can you pull out? I know it’s not-“
“Don’t care,” He huffs, legs moving to prop himself up more securely. His knees dig into your bed, and he pulls your thigh further apart, letting his eyes fall down to your pussy. His face is more than pornographic when he sees the visual of his cockhead sliding through your folds, eyebrows furrowed and lips parted. He lets his eyes flutter shut, a small profanity leaving his mouth. “You’re sure I can fuck you raw? I- please, p-please, baby. I need to be inside.”
“Jisung,” You whine. He lets his tip bump against your clit again, and you grow too desperate, reaching down yourself to grab his cock. The feeling makes him whimper, his fingers ripping into the pillow beside your head with his superhuman strength, but you’re too out of it to care. You position his cock by your hole, soppy and wet with your own cum, and he can’t hold himself back - he pushes in, all of it at once, a long, anguished noise leaving his mouth. “Oh. Oh- Oh, Jisung, that’s-“
“Is it okay? Are you okay?” Jisung asks, breathless. “Does it hurt? I- baby, baby-“
He’s still completely stationary, but he can’t stop talking, chest heaving and flushed pink. You shake your head. It doesn’t hurt. You’re wet enough that he glided in so easy, stretching your pussy in the most pleasurable, delicious way. You didn’t think it would ever feel this good, but you’re sure it’s because it’s Jisung.
“God, is it- does it feel good?” He questions you, and you nod eagerly, hands moving to rest on his biceps. He repositions you both so that your legs are wrapped around his waist, his arms holding himself up over you, and the movement has him sliding deeper, making you whimper. “Can I-“
“Fucking hell, Jisung, can you just move?” You huff, annoyed, and he giggles. He shakes his head fondly, and then he’s thrusting into you, slow but steady.
“Oh, that’s good,” He slurs, eyes rolling back into his head. “That pussy’s good. Jesus, you’re- you’re tight on my cock, baby, like a fuckin’ vice.”
“Your cock is so good,” You whine, trying to fuck yourself back on him. Your pussy is so wet that every thrust makes an audible noise, ringing throughout your room. If anyone walked past now they’d hear the debauchery, and you’re not sure you’d even care. “Fuck, Jisung- Jisung, you’re big. Please, please, more, I need more!”
“Okay, okay,” He moans, and then his hips speed up. His balls slap against your asshole with every thrust, his cock pistoning into you at a pace that has you wailing. The headboard slams against the wall. “Oh, fuckin’- baby, this puusssy.”
“It feels so good. Your cock is stretching me out so good, baby-“
“Fuck, wait,” He whines, pulling out sharply. When you look down between his legs his cock is painfully hard, and his pubic hair is drenched with you. The sight makes you even more eager to get him back inside of you, but Jisung grabs the base of his cock tightly, his chest heaving. “I- I’ll cum if you talk like that. Fuck, this is so embarrassing!”
“I want you to cum,” You insist, leaning up on your elbows. Your pussy is still leaking steadily onto your bedsheets, and you make grabby hands at your boy to try and get him back inside of you. “You made me cum so good in your mouth, Sungie, c’mon. Make yourself cum with my pussy.”
“Oh my God,” He moans, eyes half lidded, shaking his head in disbelief. “You’re dirty. My fucking dream, holy shit.”
He leans over you once more, pushing his cock inside of you. It slides back in easily with another wet noise, and you moan, smiling with delight. “Mm, fuck this pussy, baby, c’mon.”
“I- fuck, okay,” He keens, nodding. His teeth bite into his lower lip almost painfully, and you kiss his neck while he starts to fuck into you again. With a quick reposition you let your thighs fall apart and further back, and his cock starts to hit your g-spot incessantly. He pulls away from you, head lolling into your neck. His breaths fan over your skin, hot and heavy. “You’re so wet, why are you- how are you so wet, baby? This pussy, fucking- I’m gonna cum. I’m so close, I’m so close, please-“
The shred of logic has left your brain. His cock feels so good, thick and pressing inside of you. You have to let him do it. “Baby. Baby, do y’wanna- I’m on the pill, baby,” You say, breathless. His pace stops, hips halting, and he makes a confused noise. “Cum inside. Creampie this hole, Sungie, I know you want to.”
“Oh my fucking- baby? My baby, can I?” He wails, head pulling up to look at you. You catch sight of tears brewing in his eyes, glassy and unshed. “Baby, please, I’m gonna cum, please, where-? Baby?”
“Inside of me, Sungie,” You wrap your legs around him, pulling him inside of you, deep. You know he could get out of it if he wanted to, but he doesn’t, hips starting to pick up inside of you again. It’s fast, desperate and he keens, nodding. “You gonna fill me up, yeah?”
“Yeah. Y-yeah, yes, oh- I’m gonna fill you up,” Jisung’s words are slurred, quiet, and you let him fuck into you over and over. With a sharp noise, his hips slow once more, and you feel a rush of additional wetness inside of you. It’s warm, and you run your fingers through his hair while he fucks his cum inside of you. “Fuck. Baby, you’re so good to me, so good. Lettin’ me breed your cunt, and- and- oh. I’m still-“
He’s still cumming. It floods out of his cock and into your pussy steadily, and you giggle, feeling sated. Your delighted state of mind only lasts a second, because he pulls out sharply and wiggles down on the bed, attaching his mouth to your cunt. He’s eating his own cum out of you.
“Oh! Oh, Jisung, you’re- you’re dirty, Sungie, ah-“ You whine, fingers moving to his hair again. He licks you over and over until you’re wailing with it, your own tears brimming in your eyes from the overstimulation. Your hole feels stretched, a feeling you’re sure you could get used to, and you shake through a second orgasm.
Jisung’s quick to lean over you again, and then his thumb moves to your chin. He opens your mouth firmly, spitting your combined release into your mouth, and you moan, letting him press his tongue between your lips afterwards.
It’s messy and you let him kiss you for a bit, slow, languid, passionate kisses that have your core almost throbbing for more, if you weren’t so satisfied. Jisung’s soft cock presses against your tummy, wet with your combined arousal, and then he flops down next to you with a huff.
“God, I could go again,” He admits, hand running through his sweat mussed hair. When you turn to him, he’s grinning from ear to ear, and you giggle. He looks at you with a satisfied expression. “You’re the best. That was literally like, the best thing I’ve ever felt in my life. Even more than when I win some fight against an alien, or something.”
“Alien?” You ask, and then you remember. “Oh, yeah. Kinda forgot about that.”
“You forgot about me saving your life?!” He shrieks, thrashing around on the bed in a tantrum. “Seriously, if I wasn’t in love with you I would- ah. Oh.”
You blanch, blinking at him. It’s easy to ignore that you’re both naked when he’s just dropped a bombshell on you like that, and you let out a giggle. “That was sweet. I’m in love with you too, for the record.”
You’re attacked in a flurry of kisses, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. You’re sure Han Jisung intrigues you just as much as his superhero alterego does, so it’s easy to accept.
3K notes · View notes
rashomonss · 11 months
Text
The brothers and the Human Realm
a/n: so ik ‘jealous much’ won the poll but it’s still not done yet so have this instead!
context: a part of me still finds lessons 40-43 funny because the brothers have never really been to the human world that much, and they don’t really know how certain things work. Take the slow cooker and ice cream truck for example. So these are little headcanons I have for when all of y’all are together in the beginning of their stay in the human realm.
enjoy <3 , also these are in no specific order
you all are hopeless…
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Solomon and MC would so fuck with the brothers while being in the human realm.
For example they’d take Lucifer to the shadiest mexican restaurant possible then after they finished eating they would tell the waiters it was Lucifer’s birthday and watch the Avatar of Pride sit there with a big ass sombrero on his head as they sang happy birthday to him.
MC later took a picture and sent it to Diavolo who then made it his lock screen.
Satan and Belphie tried to electrocute Lucifer by throwing a toaster in the bathroom while he was in the middle of a shower. This happened after the fact you told them not to put water on the toaster because it could electrocute someone. 
Beel ate an entire bottle of ibuprofen liquid gels because he thought they were hard gummies.
Beel also ate the food and cake shaped wax candle melts you had bought for Asmo as a gift
Beel lastly ate your whole brand new container of melatonin and it knocked him out for 15 hours straight. Needless to say Lucifer was very concerned for his wellbeing, and Belphie soon questioned if you had anymore.
Belphie and his brothers were never taught stranger danger, because who in their right mind would be a danger to them in the Devildom?
So after you had explained to him what an ice cream truck was he vowed to go to one with you.
However when a creepy old man in a white van offers him candy he believes it to be the same as the ice cream truck so he gets in the van.
When the brothers relay this information to you, you begin to lose your shit explaining how that was not in fact an ice cream truck he got into but instead a kidnapper van.
The brothers don’t know how to eat certain human world foods.
Such as a banana, watermelon, mango, pineapple, kiwi, avocado, cherry, dragon fruit, papaya, onion, etc.
So when you first buy one from the grocery store and leave it out before cutting it they automatically think it’s some weird shaped human food and bite into it eating the skin or seeds and all.
After they tell you about the weird but delicious taste of it you ask if they cut it or spit out the seeds before eating it, and when they reply with a puzzled look and a no your heart drops.
Thank god they’re demons. You then proceed to buy the same thing again this time cutting it up in front of them so they know what parts to eat of certain things.
Expanding on the cherry part, did y’all’s parents ever tell you not to swallow watermelon or cherry seeds because if you did a cherry tree or whole watermelon would then grow in your stomach??
I know mine and some of my friends parents would tell us that when I was younger to make sure we didn’t swallow any seeds.
If they didn’t then oh well, anyway…
Continuing with Solomon being an ass, he would so tell something like that to the brothers. If he happened to see Beel swallow a cherry whole he would then proceeded to tell Lucifer not to let him do that.
And when the oldest asks why Solomon would then go onto explain that if he swallows cherry pit then a cherry tree will then grow inside his stomach.
Of course this freaked out Lucifer so for the next hour he tried getting Beel to spit out all the cherries he ate.
You would have to organize their fridge and pantry in the new house because they don’t know which human world foods need to be refrigerated or not.
After you arrive at the house you spent a good three hours explaining to them not everything can go in the pantry because some of it will spoil after you open it.
Then you proceed to gag when you pulled out an expired chunky milk container from the pantry.
They find the concept of drive thru or fast food places astonishing. The fact that you can just order wait in a line for a few minutes in your car then get your food is crazy. They do however all panic though when you get to the front and they don’t know what to order off the menu.
Car washes are also something they found themselves favoring. You would turn up the music as you slowly pulled in and joked by telling the brothers you were going on a ride of sorts.
Which in turn shocked you when they did believed you as the car wash stared. Each of them were staring out the windows with starry eyes as different colors of soap were thrown on your car.
You laughed to yourself as they all admired the way the soap blended together, Asmo and Mammon found themselves taking pictures of the whole thing. While Belphie was telling Beel how this looked like a starry sky.
And Levi went on to tell Satan how this reminded him of an anime scene. Lucifer also found himself sitting quietly in the passenger seat enjoying it too. (Lucifer is a certified passenger princess, fight me on that)
Each brother questioned you on how this was possible and you replied with smile. After the car wash was over and you drove through the dryers they all asked if you could do that again, to which you replied smiling “maybe some other time”.
Lucifer watered the fake succulents and plants you put around the house for two weeks straight until you said something.
They love watching true crime documentary’s to the point you’d have to physically pull them away from the tv.
It happened one afternoon while a few of them were relaxing in the living room and you were looking for a channel to watch.
Deciding there was nothing interesting on you put on an old true crime documentary and began watching it. As the brothers heard the story of the crime from the tv they each became immersed in it.
Telling you things such as “how could humans do that to each other?” or “wow humans are more brutal than we thought” or even adding in their own comments on how they could have made the crime worse.
It became a guessing game between all of them to figure out who killed who during each episode you watched.
Much to everyone dismayed Satan was the one who won every time.
Meanwhile while they were all immersed in the tv you noticed Lucifer standing behind you, arms crossed also watching tv. You told him to sit down and watch with all of you but he denied, claiming he wasn’t really interested in stuff like this anyway.
Yet he never moved from that same spot each episode.
Each of the brothers have made something explode in the microwave.
Lucifer stained it red when he went to reheat pasta, but he put it in for to long and it exploded. Mammon overfilled his ramen thus causing it to leak then explode.
Satan and Levi also happened to be reheating takeout at the same time, but both of the containers were styrofoam and exploded. Levi got annoyed and Satan threw the microwave at Lucifer.
Asmo put some skincare product in there because he found something online about a certain hack, and it exploded causing the microwave to smell like burnt strawberries.
Beel put too much food in the microwave causing it to all melt together then explode.
Belphie put a coffee in there to reheat and it exploded, but he was too lazy to clean it up so he just left it. Lucifer was then next to use the microwave and got coffee all over him.
You made all seven of them watch the entire twilight series as a joke but ironically they all actually enjoyed it.
Satan even went out and bought the books, and finished all of them in about 2 hours
Bonus
Solomon distracted Diavolo for 3 hours straight by making him watch 5 minute craft videos.
Diavolo then proceeded to break things to try these said crafts which caused Barbatos to have a meltdown.
Barbatos destroyed an entire sidewalk because he saw two rats run across it into the sewer.
6K notes · View notes
kingofbodyrolls · 2 months
Text
Say I Do (m) | jjk
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Summary: you and Jungkook tease each other at your wedding reception.
Pairing: jungkook x female reader (no Y/N and unnamed)
AUs: non-idol!au, wedding!au
Genres: smut– like it’s just smut, nothing else 🤣
Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact!
Word count: 5,2k
Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸
Warnings/tag: unprotected sex, exhibitionism, voyeurism, public sex, handjob, oral (female receiving), dirty talk, slightly rough sex, choking, biting, spitting, ass grabbing, impreg kink, degrading names (whore used once).
Author’s note: I made this for my lovely friend Lua (@letjungcoook7)!!!! SURPRISE!!!! I hope you like it! I was inspired to make this because of our chat, and I just want to say that you are so fucking lovely, sweet and kind 💖 I really hope this isn’t too much, but I just had too 🥹 I really wanted to make it dirty, but it ended up being more sweet instead, I’m sorry! I love talking to you and I just wanted to let you know that I adore and treasure you 😘 
Honestly Lua, I just wrote this to tell you how beautiful you are– mind, body and soul. Thank you Lua, I love ya 💜
This is just something very short while I work on ‘My Heart’s Home’. But I hope you like it, and please let me know what you think: my inbox is always open, and I love to hear from you, even a reblog/comment will put a big smile on my face 💜
Also!!! This is written from Jungkook’s POV (well I tried, lol). And normally I don’t describe the reader/MC, but she does have a tiny bit description in this, but I still feel it’s vague enough. But if that isn’t your thing, it’s completely fine 🙂 This is not proofread (because I’m too lazy for that right now).
This has nothing to do with my other fic 'say that again (I dare you)', but if you want to read that I'm not opposed (it's also a jjk fic) ✨
Fancy reading on AO3? 😉 
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Rising gracefully to his feet, Taehyung's infectious enthusiasm fills the room as he declares, “I propose a toast!” His radiant smile sweeps over the myriad of guests you meticulously invited to your wedding—more than a hundred souls sharing in the joy of your love story. 
As he prepares to speak, Jungkook can't help but marvel at the grandeur of the occasion. Despite his personal inclination towards a more intimate celebration, he wouldn't dream of denying you this moment, surrounded by the warmth of friends and family who have come together to witness the union of two hearts.
Despite Taehyung's earnest attempt to capture Jungkook's attention with a throat-clearing preamble, Jungkook finds himself inexplicably entranced elsewhere. Even in the midst of one of his closest friends delivering a heartfelt wedding speech—something he should be wholeheartedly absorbing—but it’s hard. As hard as his dick that you’re palming over his dress pants.
The tantalizing dance of your hand sends ripples of pleasure through him, an intoxicating distraction that eclipses all other thoughts. It's an artful symphony of sensation, each movement crafting a masterpiece of desire within him. The struggle to concentrate on anything else becomes an exhilarating battle. Fuck. 
You, the mischievous enchantress, wield your allure like a potent spell. 
A tantalizing awareness of your own danger courses through your veins, and you wield it with an expert finesse. Every knowing glance, every sly smile, is a calculated move in the game you effortlessly play. You've mastered the art of ensnaring him, wrapping him around your finger with a magnetic force that compels him to dance to your whims. It's a dangerous dance, but he willingly succumbs to the intoxication of your charm, embracing the thrill as much as he cherishes the intoxicating love he feels for you.
What the fuck is Taehyung saying?
Taehyung’s words dissolve into a meaningless buzz, drowned out by the illicit symphony you're orchestrating beneath the table. The audacious zipper sliding down and the tantalizing exploration of your hand over the fabric of his boxer briefs command all of Jungkook's attention.
Profanity trembles on the edge of his tongue, but it's lost in the overwhelming sensation that eclipses any coherent thought. Your stealthy touch renders him blissfully oblivious to everything else unfolding around him.
Suppressing a low, guttural sound, he clenches his teeth, using every ounce of willpower to stifle the moan building in his throat. As desire courses through him like a wildfire, he willingly parts his legs, a silent invitation for you to explore more boldly, granting ample space for the electrifying touch of your hand over the hardened length of his cock.
He marvels at your audacity, finding it both exhilarating and daring that you'd embark on such a provocative escapade during your wedding reception. Yet, deep down, he acknowledges that it's a reflection of the wild spirit that has always defined your relationship. It's a shared affinity for dancing on the edge, reveling in the allure of danger, and delighting in the thrill of engaging in activities that should, by all accounts, remain private. It's a facet of your relationship that has always been magnetic, drawing you both into a world where the risk of being caught only adds to the intoxicating excitement.
In the blink of an eye, your hand deftly maneuvers beneath the fabric of his boxers, sending a shiver down his spine. A hiss escapes his lips as your long, slender fingers confidently envelop his cock. The warmth of your touch is both a balm and an inferno, and he instinctively tilts his head back in the chair, a silent plea for discretion. 
As he surrenders to the delicious sensation, he can't help but cast a furtive glance around, fervently hoping that the clandestine ballet unfolding beneath the table remains a tantalizing secret shared only between you.
Despite the uproarious laughter echoing through the room in response to Taehyung's speech, Jungkook remains oblivious to its contents, ensnared the choreography of your hand beneath the table. 
The mirthful ambiance only fuels his curiosity, surmising that Taehyung must have delivered a punchline or shared a humorous anecdote. Meanwhile, beneath the table's concealment, your hand skillfully traces a tantalizing path along his hardened cock, drawing a hushed hiss from Jungkook's lips. 
With a steely resolve, he masks any trace of emotion, locking his features in a stoic facade and maintaining an impressive silence. His determined effort is not just to conceal the electrifying sensations your actions are evoking, but also to safeguard the clandestine intimacy you both share from the prying eyes of the unsuspecting guests. 
Every fiber of his being is a coiled spring, resisting the urge to yield to the pleasure that threatens to unravel beneath the veneer of his restrained expression. 
As his gaze shifts towards you, he's met with an unexpected sight—there you sit, an image of demure elegance in your exquisite white gown. 
The fabric caresses your curves in all the right places, accentuating the allure of your figure. The daringly low neckline teases a glimpse of the captivating silhouette of your bosom, leaving him momentarily breathless. The off-the-shoulder design unveils a generous expanse of your soft, tender skin, a tantalizing sight that aligns perfectly with his preferences. 
Despite the provocative allure of your attire, your outward appearance betrays no hint of the illicit affair transpiring beneath the table. If he didn't intimately know the secret you were concealing—your hand discreetly exploring the realm beneath his pants—he'd be fooled by the serene facade you present, seemingly absorbed in the captivating rhythm of Taehyung's speech.
In a silent plea of gratitude, Jungkook revels in the fact that the attention of the guests is fixed on Taehyung's speech, sparing him the scrutiny of prying eyes. 
Little do they know, the real spectacle unfolds beneath the table, where your touch becomes an exquisite torment. 
Every movement of your hand is a tantalizing dance, a blend of ecstasy and torture that threatens to unravel him. With a teasing finesse, your soft fingers caress his frenulum, tracing a path towards the depths of pleasure. The deliberate slide over his slit elicits a shiver of pure ecstasy, leaving Jungkook teetering on the precipice of desire that you expertly navigate.
Your hand envelops him, a cocoon of warmth that intensifies with each skillful stroke. The pleasure coursing through him is undeniably exquisite, a testament to the mastery of your touch. Yet, a lingering awareness tugs at the edges of his consciousness—an impending climax that threatens to unravel the careful threads of restraint. The exquisite sensations you evoke compel him to desperately anchor his thoughts, to redirect the intoxicating focus from the captivating dance beneath the table to Taehyung's speech.
The challenge lies not just in resisting the magnetic pull of pleasure but in maintaining a semblance of composure, navigating the delicate balance between the ecstasy you're orchestrating beneath the table and the public façade demanded by the occasion.
“We’ve been friends for so long, how many years is it now, Gguk?” As Taehyung poses the question, a hushed anticipation envelops the room, and all eyes converge on Jungkook. 
Fuck. 
All eyes are on him and he can’t think— he’s mind is clouded with thoughts of you. 
Taehyung– Fuck. How long have they been friends? 
In a sudden stumble of recollection, he breathes out, “17 years,” the weight of the shared history resonating in the room. Yet, the gravity of the moment is unexpectedly intensified as you administer an assertive squeeze around cock. Fuck.
With a chuckle that slices through the tension, Taehyung seamlessly continues his discourse, effortlessly reclaiming the attention of the room and redirecting every wandering gaze back to him. A collective exhale echoes in Jungkook's mind, a silent gratitude for the timely diversion that spares the clandestine spectacle beneath the table from becoming the unwitting center of attention. 
Relentless, you maintain the rhythm on his dick, displaying an unwavering determination that hints at an intention to push him to the brink, right under the unsuspecting gaze of the gathered guests. 
As the divine caress of your hand propels him perilously close to the edge, a surge of urgency overtakes him. Desperate, he turns his face towards you, eyes silently pleading for respite, but your gaze remains steadfastly elsewhere. 
Frustration wells within him, and he attempts to use his hands to guide yours away, only to find your grip tightening in response. The conflicting forces of pleasure and restraint collide within him, his muscles tensing as a hitch in his breath betrays the precarious precipice upon which he teeters.
Leaning in, you bring with you a halo of your natural sweet scent, an intoxicating allure that wraps around him, overwhelming his senses and leaving him slightly dizzy. 
Your lips, soft and plush, delicately find his cheek in what appears to be a tender gesture to the outside world. To the unsuspecting onlookers, it's a simple, sweet kiss on the cheek. 
Little do they know, in that same moment, your daring move involves not just the gentle press of your lips but the subtle exploration of your other hand slipping under his boxers to fondle his balls.
Fucking hell he’s gonna come.
Ecstasy courses through him like a wildfire, an imminent eruption fueled by the intoxicating cocktail of your skillful touch on his balls, warm breath teasing his ear, and the relentless grip on his pulsating desire. The threshold between pleasure and release narrows to a perilous edge, and he finds himself teetering on the brink, held captive by the maddening symphony of sensations you've orchestrated. 
Despite his valiant efforts to remain attentive to his friend's speech, the sheer mastery of your pleasure-inducing touch proves insurmountable. Every deliberate stroke, every strategic squeeze of his balls, propels him further into the abyss of ecstasy. In a moment of surrender, he can no longer contain the torrent of desire, and ropes of his essence surge forth from his throbbing dick. His lips bear the weight of a stifled moan, as you keep stroking him through his orgasm.
Beside him, your chuckle is a symphony of sweetness interwoven with a hint of mischief, a melodic backdrop to the ongoing crescendo of pleasure you expertly administer through his orgasm. 
As he traverses the realm of oversensitivity, a low, guttural grunt escapes him, drawing the curious gaze of Taehyung, engrossed in his ongoing speech. Though momentarily caught in a gaze of questioning inquiry, Taehyung forges ahead, resuming his speech with a peculiar stare, unwittingly oblivious to the spectacle unfolding beside him.
Thank fuck both of your parents aren’t seated right next to you. That would have been utterly mortifying and embarrassing.
With a deliberate finesse, you retract your hand from his crotch, guiding it gracefully over the table, where you nonchalantly employ a napkin to erase any lingering evidence. Seated there, you adopt an innocent facade, a picture of angelic composure that conceals the fact that, mere seconds ago, your hand delved into the forbidden realm beneath his pants. 
With an audible exhale, he reaches for a napkin, hastily attending to the aftermath on his pants. The damage is fortunately minimal, thanks to your deft intervention that efficiently captured most of his release. Smart girl.
But a mischievous spark ignites in his eyes, a silent vow echoing beneath the surface - oh, he's going to get back at you for that, you little minx. 
As the notes of the classic wedding waltz envelop the room, Jungkook marvels at the surreal reality—he gets to call you his wife now. The ethereal glow surrounding you transcends the physical, a radiant aura that has always defined you. Despite your humble protestations about your own beauty, he's captivated by the undeniable truth: you've always been, and continue to be, an enchanting vision. Countless times you've confessed to feeling otherwise, but in his eyes, you're a masterpiece. In this moment, as you dance together, you're not just a part of his world; you are his entire universe.
Gazing into the pools of your sweet, doe-like eyes, their exquisite almond shape captivates him, holding his attention in an unbreakable trance. He contemplates the nuances of your beauty, from the enchanting curvature of your slightly upturned nose to the endearing moments when he can't resist playfully poking it during your teasing exchanges. Every inch of you, in his eyes, is a masterpiece, and he pledges to vocalize his admiration every day, a ritual aimed at etching your beauty into your own consciousness. 
He dreams that with each affirming word, he'll weave a tapestry of self-love around you, until the day you see yourself as he does—undeniably, breathtakingly beautiful.
As you dance, your eyes ablaze with an unmistakable love, he luxuriates in the intensity of your gaze. A daring current of desire propels his hand, gliding with deliberate intent down your body until it boldly claims your ass. 
Uninhibited, he seizes it with audacious confidence, the bold move oblivious to the watchful eyes surrounding you. A soft, mischievous squeeze elicits a sweet chuckle from you, a harmonious note in the symphony of shared amusement that reverberates through the party, as the crowd collectively succumbs to the captivating allure of your uninhibited dance.
As the soft strains of the music envelop you both in a waltz, your heads draw nearer, the enchanting melody echoing the tender dance of your hearts. With the song nearing its end, he seizes the moment, leaning in intimately close to your ear. The hushed promise that escapes his lips carries a tantalizing undercurrent, his warm breath grazing your skin as he vows, “I'm going to get you back for earlier, babe.”
He senses the subtle shiver coursing through you as his touch lingers, a silent testament to the shared electricity between you. As the final notes of the song fade into the applause and cheers of the crowd, seizing the perfect moment, he leans in, embracing you in a sweet and passionate kiss. 
As the rhythm of a more upbeat song invigorates the dance floor, he seizes the opportunity to whisk you away from the lively crowd. Amidst the pulsating beats and the vivacious laughter of the guests, he guides you outside the building, their merriment gradually fading into the background.
In the crisp night air, he asserts a sudden dominance, pressing you against the sturdy wall. His gaze, infused with an unmistakable hunger and need, locks onto your beautiful eyes, creating a magnetic tension that reverberates between you. 
“You are a little minx, you know that?” His words, not laced with anger but rather a dangerous undercurrent of arousal, hang in the charged air. Your chuckle, a sweet symphony that further stirs the tempest within him, prompts a hiss as he succumbs to the magnetic pull, diving fervently into the captivating abyss of your mouth.
The kiss intensifies, a collision of passion that is both hard and rough, fueled by an undeniable need. In the urgency of the moment, he can't afford to wait, the impatience palpable in every fervent press of lips. 
You envelop him in the embrace of your arms, fingers intertwining at the nape of his neck, while your gaze rises to meet his. In the depths of his eyes, once warm brown orbs now transformed into pools of near-black intensity, a reflection of the potent arousal coursing through his veins. 
Your hand embarks on a daring journey, descending to the front of his pants once more, and the response is instantaneous – hardness reignites, a testament to the insatiable flame you kindle within him. Desire for you pulses like a constant current, an almost permanent state of arousal that defies logical explanation. Whatever enchantment you cast upon him, it's an irresistible force that weaves a tantalizing spell, leaving him perpetually captivated by the mystique of your touch.
Breaking away from the embrace of your soft lips, he wears a smirk laden with both warning and allure. “You're playing with fire, babe,” he remarks, the subtle edge in his voice echoing the intoxicating dance of danger and desire that swirls between you.
In a hushed whisper that flutters against your ear, he breathes, “You've been a naughty girl.” 
The words, laden with an undercurrent of sultry authority, send a shiver down your spine, awakening a cascade of tingles that traverse the landscape of your entire body. 
Descending to the delicate expanse of your neck, he peppers it with soft, almost teasing kisses, each touch a prelude to the symphony of sensations. Then, in an abrupt shift from gentle caresses, he bites down, coaxing from you a loud moan that resonates through the air—an intoxicating sound that echoes in the depths of his desire, a melody he'll never tire of hearing. 
Continuing his explorative journey, he ventures further south, his lips descending to the curve of your breasts. With a deliberate tenderness, he places a kiss atop the soft expanse of your tender tits.
Gracefully sinking to his knees, he gazes up at you with a mischievous smirk, the air thick with a heady mixture of desire and anticipation. His tongue darts out, grazing his lips in a provocative dance of anticipation, signaling the imminent exploration of pleasures yet to unfold. 
With an assertive grip, he seizes the front of your dress, drawing it away in a swift, purposeful motion. Despite the abundance of fabric, he deftly bunches it up with ease. “Hold your dress, please,” he directs, handing you the end of the gathered fabric. 
“Hmm. Nice lace stockings, and that girdle—what are you doing to me?” he murmurs, his voice a tantalizing blend of desire and fascination. His gaze lingers appreciatively on your beautiful thighs encased in nude stockings adorned with lace at the top, fastened to a concealed girdle on your waist.
His eyes widen with a mix of surprise and arousal as they land on your wet and glistening pussy, the evidence of desire trickling down your thigh. “Oh my god. You're not wearing panties?” he breathes out, his voice carrying the weight of both revelation and anticipation. A subtle lick of his lips betrays the intensity of his reaction.
A playful chuckle escapes your lips as you hover above him, and without a moment's hesitation, he immerses himself in the intoxicating warmth of your desire. His lips eagerly find their destination, tracing a decadent path from the delicate folds to the pulsating essence of your clit. 
The sensation ripples through your body, igniting a shiver that becomes an involuntary response to the electrifying dance between tongues, pleasure, and the shared yearning that binds you together.
He embarks on a tantalizing journey of tongue and suction, starting with teasing caresses that send tremors of anticipation through your body. His hands, strong and purposeful, find purchase on your thighs, holding you in a firm grip as he orchestrates a symphony of pleasure with his skillful tongue, creating an intoxicating dance that blurs the lines between sensation and desire.
A throaty moan escapes your lips as his nose delicately brushes against your pulsating cl*t, his tongue delving as deep as its voracious hunger allows. The exquisite sensation of his exploration elicits an involuntary clenching around him, a testament to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you.
Your thighs, unable to withstand the intensity, succumb to a tremor, trembling beneath the intoxicating caress of pleasure that consumes you.
His dexterous fingers ascend to your throbbing clit, and with a skillful touch, he sets in motion a rapid dance of pleasure, causing your entire body to quiver with newfound intensity. The quickened rhythm of your breath becomes a symphony of desire, a telltale sign for him that you're teetering on the precipice of ecstasy.
Eager to reciprocate the pleasure you bestowed upon him within the confines of the reception, he fervently laps at your tender folds. Simultaneously, his fingers engage in a deft dance around your throbbing clit, orchestrating a symphony of sensations that echoes the pulsating rhythm of desire between you.
With the harmonious fusion of his skilled tongue and nimble fingers, he orchestrates the unraveling of your senses. As ecstasy courses through you, your body convulses in euphoria, your walls clenching around his tongue, and the pulsating rhythm of your clit intensifying under the spell of his fingers. 
Waves of pleasure surge through you, causing your body to quake, and in the throes of ecstasy, you release a high-pitched, strained moan that bears his name—an intimate symphony of pleasure that lingers in the air.
Breathless and overwhelmed, you gasp out his name, a plea woven into the words, “Fuck, Jungkook. I can't stand up anymore.” As he gracefully withdraws from your core, his gaze rises to meet yours, locking in a shared moment of intensity.
He chuckles, the rich timbre of his laughter lingering in the charged air. “I know, babe. Do you want me to fuck you against the wall?”
You draw in a sharp breath, and he keenly observes the subtle clench of your hand, the fabric of the dress tightly gathered within your grasp. 
“Fuck yeah,” An unbridled affirmation escapes your lips, a primal declaration of desire. As he rises to his feet, a surge of urgency propels him to capture your mouth in a hungry kiss. The taste of your own release lingers on his lips, creating an intimate communion of shared pleasure that binds you together in the aftermath of passion.
As he engulfs you in a fervent kiss, the symphony of desire playing out between you, his hands deftly navigate the zipper of his dress pants. With a purposeful movement, he unveils his throbbing cock, stroking it in rhythmic cadence. 
His hands, driven by a primal urgency, seek out the contours of your a*s with a possessive intent. “Jump up, babe,” he commands, the resonance of his voice weaving a spell of anticipation. As you obediently jump, he effortlessly lifts you, cocooning you against the wall. 
In a brief struggle against the bulk of your dress, both of you grapple with the fabric, pushing it away from the front of your entwined bodies. A shared chuckle hangs in the air, a lighthearted interlude in the midst of fervor. But as the fabric yields to your efforts, Jungkook seizes the opportunity, moving in with an insatiable hunger to bite at your neck once more. 
With a sultry whisper, he breathes, “I'm gonna fuck a baby into you, would you like that, hmm?” 
The words, pregnant with promise, glide against your ear, and the responsive clench of your legs around his waist speaks volumes. A knowing chuckle escapes him as you endeavor to pull him even closer, the shared desire resonating between you in the charged space.
“Please,” your plea, a desperate yet fervent entreaty, escapes your lips, a poignant melody of desire that resonates in the charged air. The subtle smirk that graces his lips is both a testament to your undeniable need for him and an acknowledgment of the power he holds over your cravings.
With a deliberate touch, he locates his throbbing cock with one hand and skillfully aligns it with your dripping entrance. The tantalizing dance begins as he teases your slick folds with the head of his pulsating dick, creating an electrifying friction that amplifies the anticipation between you two. 
“Gguk, please,” you plead with a mixture of desire and frustration, your voice echoing the urgent need for him to bridge the gap between anticipation and fulfillment. However, he remains steadfast, skillfully teasing your slick folds without granting the entry your body craves. 
With a desperate plea escaping your lips once more, he finally relents. The moment stretches with anticipation before he forcefully thrusts his thick cock into your eager pussy. The collision is met with an audible impact as your back forcefully meets the wall.
He forgoes the customary pause for adjustment, intuitively aware that you relish the exquisite stretch when he enters you so abruptly. Without hesitation, he plunges deep into your core, reaching the furthest recesses, his thick length grazing against your cervix. 
“You’re so big, the stretch feels so good!” 
You gasp breathlessly against his body, overwhelmed by the sheer size of him. The intoxicating stretch sends waves of pleasure coursing through you, a visceral reminder of the intensity between you two. Determined to fully immerse yourself in the sensation, you pant against him, actively striving to ride the wave of pleasure, desperate to fuck yourself on him, the relentless pursuit of ecstasy evident in every ardent movement.
He establishes a relentless rhythm, driving into you with a force that resonates against the unyielding wall of the building. The symphony of your combined panting echoes in the air, a melodic accompaniment to the unbridled passion unfolding. Jungkook, captivated by the primal symphony, savors every delightful noise escaping your lips—a harmonious blend of desire and surrender, heightening the intensity of the fervent connection shared between you.
As he thrusts into you, each powerful motion striking your cervix, he elevates the intensity by trailing one hand up to your neck. With a gentle yet possessive touch, he wraps his fingers around your throat.
He knows you like it dirty and rough, and fuck he does too. 
His taunting words, laced with a playful yet provocative tone, cut through the charged air. “Did you enjoy the little game with your fingers down my pants while Tae was making his speech?” The rhetorical question hangs between you, a teasing challenge that elicits a subtle clenching reaction around him. 
In a sultry revelation, he whispers, “'Next to your bridesmaid and your parents. You naughty girl.” The hand steadying against the wall takes a firm hold of your ass, squeezing the soft flesh with deliberate intent. A resonant moan of pleasure escapes your lips, harmonizing with the rhythmic cadence of his thrusts as he skillfully targets your sweet spot. 
“So naughty,” he breathes, punctuating each fervent thrust with a rhythmic intensity that sends shivers down your spine. “You enjoy getting off in front of your friends, huh?” His words, infused with a seductive blend of desire and provocation, become a tantalizing soundtrack to the relentless grind of his dick into you.
“And getting me off too? Whore,” he seethes into your ear, the heated accusation leaving a scorching trail of desire in its wake. Your response, a shiver against his body, fuels the intensity of the moment. 
As he continues to fuck you with an unrestrained force, your breasts bounce in a mesmerizing rhythm that captivates him. So fucking perfect.
“Stick your tongue out,” he commands, his eyes intently fixed on you as you obediently roll out your tongue, anticipating the act you relish. The charged moment lingers, pregnant with expectation. With a deliberate move, he spits on your waiting tongue, and you, the embodiment of submission, dutifully swallow it.
Damn it, he knows he won't last much longer if he continues to be entranced by the rhythmic bounce of your enticing breasts—they possess an almost hypnotic allure over him. And that tongue of yours, oh, it's pure seduction. 
“And you can't even wait until we reach our hotel suite to be fucked. So fucking needy, and I love it,” he declares, a blend of admiration and desire lacing his words. The deliberate clench of his fingers around your throat follows, a subtle yet potent assertion of control. His gaze remains fixed on your eyes, watching with a predatory intensity as they dilate even more.
As he tightens his grip, the sensation of his fingers constricting around your throat elicits a primal response—your walls clenching around his cock. The synchronized symphony of pleasure and control intertwines, and a guttural groan escapes him, an audible testament to the ecstasy coursing through his veins. 
Driven by an insatiable desire, he redoubles his efforts to fuck you even deeper.
“My filthy wife,” he pants into your ear, the possessive term dripping with desire, a declaration that ignites a primal response within you. The sultry proclamation elicits a moan of his name from your lips, a vocal affirmation of the all-encompassing pleasure coursing through your body. His acute awareness of your nearing climax manifests in the rhythmic clenching around his dick, a tangible sign of the intimate dance between you two.
“Fuck, Gguk. I'm so close again. Fuck!” you pant fervently against the curve of his neck, the words laced with desperation and desire. He senses the mounting intensity in your voice, a symphony of passion reaching its crescendo. 
Yet, he's attuned to the nuances, recognizing the subtle signs that your body, though on the brink of ecstasy, bears the weight of fatigue, having navigated the day in those tantalizing heels. 
“You crave an audience, don't you? Want people to watch you, to hear you,” he moans into your ear, the words a sultry declaration that fans the flames of desire between you two. The acknowledgment of your shared exhibitionist desires ignites a fresh surge of pleasure, prompting an instinctive clench around him.
“Then scream my name, let everyone in the damn party know how damn good I'm fucking you,” he commands, the intensity of his voice sending shivers down your spine. As your walls clench with even greater fervor, pulsating around his dick, a wave of your liquid envelops him, transforming the intimate connection into a slippery dance of shared pleasure.
You unleash his name with a primal scream, the sheer force of your ecstasy reverberating through the open air outside. Your head drops against the curve of his neck, seeking refuge in the haven of his embrace as the waves of pleasure cascade over you.
He relentlessly thrusts his dick into you, the urgency palpable as he seeks his own release. “I'm gonna give you a baby, just like we've always dreamed of.”
“Ahhh, fuck, yes!” The exclamation bursts from your lips, a little too loud, as an uncontrollable surge of pleasure courses through you. Your teeth instinctively seek refuge on his shoulder, sinking into the firm flesh in an unbridled act of both ecstasy and restraint.
“Fuck, babe, I'm gonna come,” he confesses with a guttural moan, each subsequent thrust punctuated with the desperation of impending release. His rhythm stumbles, an involuntary response to the intensity building within him as he hurtles towards the precipice of his orgasm. And then it hits him.
The rhythmic bounce of your tits in his face, the soft and sweet scent that envelops him, and the melodic cadence of your voice—all converge to cast a spell on his senses. In the midst of your lovely moans, he succumbs to the intoxicating blend of sensations, unleashing a torrent of white-hot semen deep inside your spent pussy. 
Panting and gasping, you both struggle for precious breaths, bodies slick with the sheen of sweat acquired in the throes of passion. Amidst the shared exhaustion, a mutual chuckle reverberates between you, an intimate exchange that encapsulates the postcoital atmosphere.
With your head nestled against his, you gaze into the depth of his eyes and confess, “I love you, Gukkie.” The words, tender and raw, bridge the physical intimacy you've just shared with the emotional vulnerability of a heartfelt declaration.
“I love you too. Every damn inch of you, you're so beautiful,” he pants, a declaration infused with both desire and admiration. As he smiles at you, the post-passion glow accentuates the sincerity in his eyes, turning the exchange into a powerful affirmation.
He'll never tire of professing his boundless love and adoration for you, vowing to weave those sentiments into the fabric of each passing day. The promise to remind you, with unwavering devotion, echoes in his commitment to articulate his love every damn day.
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Please let me know if you liked it with a comment, reblog, and ask or whatever 💜
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Fucking hell Nightbringer really gave me everything huh god
Henry 1.0 origin story
Cerberus origin story
Satan's cat thing origin story
"Goldie in Freezer" origin story
Levi's Ruri-chan obsession origin story
Mammon being scared of ghosts/horror origin story
More in depth version of Solomon & Asmo's first meeting/pact origin story
A painful reason for why Asmo's room looks like that
What the tsl characters would have been like irl (the absolute worst wtf simeon)
Mammon's issues finally discussed in depth
Mammon being extremely ride or die for Lucifer
Almost instant Mammon & MC friendship
Mammon being just so amazed by MC and also insanely supportive of them
Mammon being willing to do anything for his brothers, being more sure of himself, almost instantly following Lucifer's orders and making the others do so as well
Levi's issues discussed in depth.
Levi straight up saying he was depressed and still is
Levi's friendship with MC!
Levi & Lucifer's relationship!!!!!
Levi being shy and scared and just so 😖
Things being bad in the Celestial Realm even before they left
Asmo's issues being discussed in depth
Asmo very explicitly having body dysmorphia
The brothers being much more supportive and loving of each other
Lucifer being visibly scared of losing another family member and being insanely overprotective because of it
The brothers being slowly overtaken by their sins (something that was always a part of them but also something they could control as angels) and losing control of themselves
The brothers gaining new magic
Satan being a fucking mess
Satan not really fitting in and all of them being really awkward around him
Satan's issues being discussed in depth
Belphie's issues being discussed in depth
Belphie expressing passive suicidal ideation
Belphie talking about how he needs someone to blame for what happened to Lilith so he can process it/make sense of it even if that someone is himself
Lucifer's issues being touched on from from different perspectives/angles
Diavolo's issues being hinted at
Simeon's issues being vaguely discussed
More about Lilith! (remember my post about how lilith definitely wasn't a sweet little angel because there's no way the universe would let lucifer catch a break? I was right!!! She was as much a little shit as the rest of her family!)
More about the demon king! (He wanted to stop the war too🥺 also a whole line of previous demon kings!)
More about god/how angels work (all angels are brothers & sisters but not technically family the way lucifer & his siblings are!)
ADAM!?!?!?!?!?
Solomon & MC's Sorcerer & Apprentice relationship seen in full detail!
MC being absolutely amazing
MC being competent and powerful and dangerous and resourceful and confident and the brothers realising all that but them also being funny and snarky and chaotic and outgoing and homesick and caring
References to present (s1-s4) brothers (& how they'll tear solomon apart if he doesn't bring MC back)
NIGHTBRINGER!? BARBATOS!!!??? but past barbatos doesn't seem to know anything about MC and present barbatos is helping solomon bring MC back....so who...?
References to Noble demons and conservative demons and devildom politics
Angel - Demon prejudice /racism from both sides explicitly shown
The brothers being war criminals and how the devildom sheltering them nearly re-started the war between the two realms
None of them being able to identify MC as a human (it takes Diavolo a long time + Lucifer straight up denies it when MC tells him), Adam & Nightbringer saying MC has the "power of angels", MC's favourite manga being one where the youngest child out of 7 is described as being angelic (*cough*lilith*cough*), Diavolo, even after knowing MC is a human, going "what are you"..... me softly chanting: nephilim!mc nephilim!mc nephilim!mc
The lessons flow better? It doesn't feel like one arc is squished into two lessons and then you must immediately jump into another different arc. It feels like it's all just happening in a connected sequence?
Better pacing in my opinion. It doesn't feel rushed.... like the part where satan discovers cats and then later is seen still sitting next to the cat and watching it? It feels appropriately spaced out
MC's relationships with everyone doesn't feel isolated. Like earlier there'd be a lesson or two dedicated to one character and we won't see much of the other characters during it. Now it feels like everyone is there interacting with everything in a normal, natural way. Yes there are lessons dedicated to getting to know one brother but the others are there, interacting with each other and MC during that time as well
The emotions & relationships are discussed/written in a way that feels very real and believable that it becomes actually really moving (s1-s4 also did this well but in nightbringer because of arcs/scenes/relationships not being isolated, of things flowing better and having a better pacing, of them outright discussing their issues it has a greater impact - yes I cried more than once shut up)
In the end, Nighbringer is darker than og OM! but not in the "grrr gonna kill you" way. It's "darker" because they address more serious topics in depth
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no1deepspacehater · 2 months
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You Get Into A Car Accident (Non Fatal)
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Xavier
When he texted and you didn’t reply. He wasn’t worried.
When he went to your apartment, and you didn’t answer the door. He was mildly concerned.
When he saw on the news that a hunter was injured in a car crash. He grew worried.
And when he logged into the news feed of the UNICORN’s association, which shows direct information on all hunters, without proper pass, to see your status, he was frantic.
Nearly got into a car crash himself getting to the hospital, and when they wouldn’t let him in to see you, he flashed his high ranking badge, which got the message through.
You were unconscious when he got there, which suddenly reminded him how tired he was.
He prevailed through after checking with the nurses that you were okay, and with that, he pulled up a chair and blanket and fell asleep next to you.
You had to wake him up yourself after you had your breakfast (Saving some for him).
He rubbed his eyes tiredly as he blinked awake.
“You sure do know how to keep someone occupied (MC)… Try not to put yourself out of commission so often, or I’m going to have to find a new partner.” He mumbled absent mindedly as he consumed the rest of your fruit.
Zayne
If you’re not being taken care of at his hospital, he’s going to whichever one you’re at and taking over immediately. He’s THE Dr. Zayne so of course, he’s going to have his way.
For plots sake you’re at Akso Hospital for now.
If he’s in his office, whatever he’s doing is stopped immediately as his main priority is you.
If he’s dealing with another patient, or in a surgery, he’s still going to remain with his current patient, but his nerves are at an all-time high, which somehow makes him work better.
Says absolutely NOTHING as he tends to your wounds. You can’t tell if he’s seething with rage at you getting hurt or deeply disappointed that you got yourself hurt.
When you finally get the courage to say something, all you can say is his name.
“Doctor Zayne…”
He says nothing as he finishes applying a bandage. Afraid to say anything else, you wait until he’s done.
He takes off his glasses and rubs the bridge of his nose, letting out a sigh. He looks in your eyes, his own reflecting a type of tiredness you’ve only seen a couple other times you’ve been injured, but with battles instead.
To him, although you put your life in danger being a hunter every day, he’s reminded that the casualties of life are another thing he has to worry about with you.
He caresses your face and just whispers. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”
Rafayel
He’d called and texted, and you didn’t reply. Almost didn’t answer you when you called him the next morning.
When he saw you in the hospital bed, he got SO MAD.
Immediately hung up. You thought he was being a brat until he showed up to your hospital room exactly 10 minutes later.
“Some bodyguard you are…” He huffed, faux annoyed, as he pulled out fruit, water, a stuffed animal and balloons from his bag. How did he even get all this stuff in 10 minutes!?
Visits every day until you’re out. Argues with the nurses every time visiting hours come to a close. You have to tell him to shut up and go and apologize for him every time before they officially ban him from the hospital.
He brings his sketchbook in tow and draws scenes of you, you in the hospital, and car accidents tinged with red and dark blue. Even though they’re sketches, they still portray his feelings of anxious despair and sorrow of what could’ve been for the one he most cared about.
“Seriously, stop trying to get yourself killed all the time! … I don’t know what I’d do without you…”
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lucrezianoin · 7 months
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So, I wanted to rant about ascended Astarion a bit. I think a lot of people try to look at it and maybe only see some of his dialogue, and decide that because his decision was to ascend, then this is the best one for him, or for the romance. This is specifically for a romance perspective. Btw, ascend him away, do it, I am not saying it is a bad choice, I am saying that it is an interesting one that should be seen clearly because it is written so so well.
First of all, I want to say that the core of this path, in my opinion, is confirming his fear. The world is NOT kind. The world is cruel, and the only thing that can protects him is power.
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The note on him wanting more vengeance is that he is scared, deep down. He will also refuse to say Cazador's name, something that spawn Astarion can and will discuss with player character.
By letting him ascend, you did not see him. You did not see the moments of guilt and hesitation that he showed to you in his journey through the palace, or through the game in general. You did not see that he could be something else or that he did not need power to feel safe. I know some people do not like the "persuasion" choice, but the sentence is so short, it is just a moment, where the MC will show him that he CAN be something different. It is not easy returning to a place of such horribly long abuse, be surrounded by such violence, and remember that just a few seconds before... well, he was admitting that he saw himself in the spawns in the cells, as something pathetic that needs to be destroyed.
LOVE
Something interesting in the vampire ascended route is how much you can talk about love. Two of the options in particular are at the first night, if you can ask him what he learnt from this experience.
If you select that you hoped he would learn to love you, then this is his answer, which makes it seem like the game almost calls out the player: Is this not enough? Then this is not the route for you.
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He is offering you this eternity and power and that is love for him. Later, he will also tell you "I love you, isn't this what you want to hear?". He knows what you want, and he is giving it to you, but how much of this is what he wants?
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Differently from spawn Astarion there is no way to ask him here, no way to complete his arc with the third and last "What do you want?" question.
The other is related to love, you can tell him that you hoped he would learn that sex and relationships are not about power, to which he angrily replies that EVERYTHING is about power. By letting him ascend, you confirmed to him that this is true. Power is what he needed to be safe, power is what he needed to escape. Power over others is the only thing that can work and basically... exists. So even sex and relationships are about power.
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In the talk just after you let him ascend, you get something similar, where he looks at you and says that you, like all the lowly creatures who desire to serve, are also awaiting his command. He sees everything as a power struggle, now.
The third mention of love is actually after you break up with him. You can see it here in this video. He pronounce the word "love" with disgust, and says that that is the game he knows, so he will play it, but that he respects you for not allowing him to destroy your love.
SELF HATRED
As I said at the start, this choice of letting him ascend is based in reinforcing the idea that the world is dangerous, sex and relationships are power struggles (and he WILL turn yours into one too), and that there is no kindness, that he should be scared.
There is also a deep level of self hatred and disgust. He wants to cut ties completely with his old self, so much that if you tell him you miss his former self he will be shocked. The dialogue in screenshots is not enough to convey the emotion so I'd recommend checking a video:
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Here too:
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Instead of embracing the journey and continuing, the cuts himself from his past self completely. This is quite heartbreakingly realistic.
A TRANSACTION
Another thing that is easy to notice is the transactional feel of this relationship. After he expresses surprise that you let him kill all those people, he asks you what he can do for you, what you desire. One of the options is "I want your body", to which he answers "You earned it."
This is the character who had gone through a whole arc about how sex used to be transactional (he offers you his body in exchange for the bite, if you get him to proposition before the party, he seduces you for protection), and had to ask to the player to go slow, because he never really knew what intimacy really was without sex as something transactional being involved.
Here, he is offering you his body as something you earned, as a reward.
Regarding the sex scene... seeing both this and the spawn one with the free camera mod, I could see that the movements are the same - the difference is that ascended continues to show sex, and they are naked... and spawn is more hesitant. You can see it in the way he hesitates after he pushes Tav down.
You can compare the videos (ascended here, THEY ARE NAKED use caution, and spawn here). The scenes are like NIGHT AND DAY.
Ascended Astarion does not push you, he does not crawl over you, he does not even seem to make much eye contact (images of ascended is from the video I posted the link of).
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Look at the eye contact in spawn Astarion.
The whole scene is completely different.
OWNERSHIP
"How is being beholded to one another too different from being enslaved"
This is one of the things ascended Astarion tells the player if you break up with him, after a couple of nights. He will reveal that he would have used your trust and love until you were nothing. There are many MANY ways Astarion expresses ownership over you.
One example comes from meeting Araj:
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Here he is referring to the fact that Araj thought him your slave, but now it is you who belongs to Astarion.
Another small moment is when you can ask him "Are you going to compel me like Cazador did with you?" He doesn't even reassure you, or deny it, he tells you "Why would I need you, you are going to be obedient." The key word here is obedient.
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This is reminiscent of one of Cazador's rules "Thou shalt obey me in all things".
Coincidentially, a few lines after, Astarion even tells you his version of Cazador's third rule "thou shalt not leave my side":
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And "Thou art mine":
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Notice that you can ask him in game "you made me a spawn, what will happen to him" and he won't reply, he will just correct you on the word, saying that consort is so much better. There is another two occasions where he will talk about his desires to what will happen with you. One time he mentions that he wishes he could sequester you in his palace, but that will have to wait, and in another occasion you can remark (after break up) that he would have treated you like furniture and he does not deny. If you play as Durge and you choose Bhaal, he will laugh about you sitting naked in his lap, while he gives order to his horde, from HIS palace.
There is an ownership in the whole dialogue choices of this path that is really hard to miss.
BREAKING UP... 4 days later
Another interesting thing is that if you choose the harshest break up options he will say "There you are, the real you shows himself at last." And yet, indipendently from it, any kind of break up will end up in an aftermath scene.
This scene will trigger three nights (or two?) after, and Astarion will say some very interesting thing. I posted the whole scene here, but basically... he will reveal that he respects you for breaking up with him, he did not think you had it in him.
The difference with the wisdom check is glaring:
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Keep in mind that Ascended Astarion (pre-sex) has SO MANY options to break up with him. Almost 4/5 options are confrontational. While for spawn Astarion you have no option at all to break up with him at least not until after the final scene (while Ascended Astarion has both).
CAZADOR's WORDS
I already talked about how Astarion's words kind of betray the start of his intentions to almost adopt (maybe unconsciously) Cazador's rules. This is not surprising given that the game explicitly calls his story a cycle of abuse and power, and like Cazador's got his rules from his previous master, Astarion did from Cazador. I also noticed in other moments that Astarion uses similar words to Cazador's.
Pet. One of the things Astarion will often call the player is pet. This is something similar to using "pup" in act 1, during the party, but as far as I remember never repeated (Cazador also calls Astarion a "disobedient pup"). The important thing is that you can call him out on it "I am not your pet". He says he is just joking, life is a joke!
Little wretch, cattle, stupid. There are all things that Cazador called him or used in general. I will need to dig deeper to find them all, but the most interesting one was for me "pet". I might be wrong, but I think this is something Astarion uses only post ascenscion.
KARLACH
I don't want to talk too much about Karlach because I did not play as her yet, but I know that she has a whole new path for this... and it is not a good one. Astarion's first sex night with her has him horribly aggressive and nasty, because of his own insecurities (confirmed by the devnotes). And Astarion's sex night when he ascend is even worse.
He will be so overcome by his new power to believe that he can bite her anyway, even with her engine. He will end up hurting himself and immediately accusing her of being broken, not normal, of reuining everything. Even after Karlach tries to tell him that it is not her fault.
Absolutely horrible. Given Karlach is the player character, the same would have happened to any Tav is something had prevented Astarion from biting them.
You can see the video here.
WHAT DO YOU WANT?
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To conclude, Astarion's character goes through a complete arc of finding out what he wants and being seen as spawn Astarion, while ascended Astarion goes through a complete arc of finding out that power is the one thing that can save him and protect him, and obtaining it, so much that he basically owns you too.
It is two completely journey, and I think both with a satisfying conclusion.
One follows the trails of asking Astarion "What do you want?" and the other follows the trail of Astarion asking you what you want and telling you this is what you might want.
In the case of ascended Astarion, the final "what do you want" (after act 1, where he deflects, and act 2 where he says he doesn't know, he never tried it before) is "You, this", this being the safety you offered, being seen. He remarks about being seen, in particular.
For ascended Astarion, there is no option to ask him "what do you want" again, but the character still concludes the arc by using the same words he used in act 1. "This is what you want, isn't it?", where he offers the player this fantasy and the player just has to accept, and say yes.
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onyourowndaisymae · 1 year
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obey me characters and incorrect things about the human world they believe in (headcanons)
just because they're old doesn't mean they're smart
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somebody, at some point, convinced mammon the ninja turtles were real. if you ask him about it, he scoffs-- of course he doesn't think there are human-sized ninja turtles running new york city. they're in hiding so people won't find them and hunt them down, duh. he's so matter-of-fact about it that it makes you feel like a dumbass for a moment.
beel thinks everything that falls in the fruit and vegetable categories grows on trees. he cannot conceptualize another way they'd grow. what do you mean carrot trees don't exist...?
satan learned about subways in major cities and, coupled with his previous knowledge of historical railways, sort of just assumes that every country has an elaborate high-speed rail system. sigh. i wish you were right, satan.
lucifer thought that everyone carried a weapon on them in the human world. they don't? isn't it dangerous up there? why would you walk around unarmed, mc? what happens if somebody comes up and attacks you? somehow this misunderstanding has turned into a lecture for you--
asmo severely overestimated the human life span. his brain starts lagging when you tell him the average human lifespan in around 80 years. that's it? that's all? that's nothing! how do you even get anything done in that little time? he has demonus older than that sitting beside his bathtub! (asmo drinks in the bath, don't @ me) you would expect things to get a little angsty here as he realizes how short your own lifespan is, but for some reason he just assumes you're exempt from this rule. he'll make solomon figure out a way to keep you young and pretty with him, don't you worry!
levi didn't realize that the media in hell is different than in the human world. the thought of nobody on earth knowing who ruri-chan is ruins his evening. you broke him.
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strawberry-cowmilk · 7 months
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the brothers when they miss mc
-> brothers x mc
-> mc is in the human world and the brothers are feeling lonely
mc's gender is not mentioned, not proof read
content warnings: angst, feelings of loneliness
-----
Lucifer
he literally cannot focus on a single thing and it bothers him, what did you do to him to cause him to lose his edge?
even diavolo can tell something is bothering him but of course he denies it
to take his mind off of missing you and wanting to hold you, lucifer decides to listen to some of his favorite records
until he realised one was about feeling alone too
Mammon
he begs everyone who can send him to see you, to do so
mammon promised lucifer he won't spend a single grimm for a month just to see you but none of his attempts work
he tries to secretly call or text you any time he can, especially after something bad happened to him that day
you were there to cheer him up, whether you knew you had that power by just standing there or not, mammon misses that
Leviathan
he just stares blankly at the starting screen of his game that reads 'player 1: levi and select player 2'
like you were one of his very few friends, how could you be taken away from him like that? levi just turns of the game and gets in his bathtub
he does vent about it to his fish, but let's be realistic the fish can't do anything and can't understand what's going on
he never thought he would dread being alone
Satan
he reads and reads to try to get his mind off of missing you, but that doesn't always work
satan is also more easily angered now, and that could become a dangerous situation depending on what happens to him next
satan keeps a diary, so he can give it to you when you're reunited again
but he probably won't ever do that out of shame, almost every page is about how alone he felt without you, emotionally, physically, in any way
Asmodeus
everything just annoys him, and that's when he realised him missing you was worse than he thought
he spams your inbox full of messages, he doesn't even expect you to see every single one but he just likes sharing stuff with you, even if it's a picture of a cool soap bubble in his bath
speaking if the bath, he uses it to relax when he can tell he's getting too sad
he buys you little gifts for your return too
Beelzebub
he's just living his life and then it hits him randomly like 'oh, I miss mc'
sometimes, when he orders food, he automatically gets you something too only to realise you're not with him and then he's sad for the rest of the day
he also feels less hungry and is less motivated to go to the gym
sometimes belphie has to help him cheer up when he feels like he needs somebody to talk to
Belphegor
his solution to anything is to take a nap honestly
but then he ends up dreaming about you, loving the dream, and waking up extremely upset that it was a dream
you can actually tell by how annoyed he looks during breakfast
belphie doesn't talk about this feeling of missing you a lot, which may worry his older brothers
but despite being apart from you, he'll still protect you from nightmares
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harunayuuka2060 · 8 months
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Ace and Deuce: *has arrived to the Ramshackle dorm in panic* GRANNY!
Grim: We've come to help you, Grann— Huh?
Grandma MC: Have you brought the first aid kit?
Deuce: Y-Yes. I-It's here...
Ace: G-Granny... Is that... Is that a PUMA?!!
Grandma MC: *looks a bit surprised* Oh— So you are a puma. *rubbing the puma under the chin*
Grandma MC: No wonder you're so feisty. *chuckles*
The puma: *purring*
Ace, Deuce, and Grim: ...
Ace: Grim, you said Granny was in danger.
Grim: Yes! I mean, that animal showed up and lunged at Granny!
Ace: And your first instinct was to run away and get us? Wow. That's very irresponsible of you.
Grim: Mrhm...
Grandma MC: Oh, don't scold Grim. He's done the right thing. Come here, Grim. I'm sorry for scaring you, son.
Grim: *flies to her, crying* Granny!
Ace and Deuce: ...
Deuce: So how are we going to report this?
Ace: We probably need to tell the headmage and give him a heart attack.
Crowley: Please, Granny. Tell me you're not going to keep that puma.
Grandma MC: Of course not. She's free to leave on her own. But I have to make sure her wounds are healed.
Crowley: *sigh* Professor Crewel can take care of that.
The puma: *hisses*
Professor Crewel: ...
Professor Crewel: This cat doesn't like me.
Professor Trein: According to Lucius, that is a warning.
Professor Crewel: Thank you, Lucius. But I could obviously tell.
*Once the puma was healed by Professor Crewel*
The puma: *is reluctant to leave*
Grandma MC: You can visit me from time to time. My door is always open.
Crowley: Please, Granny. Don't.
The puma: *nuzzles at her cheek before leaving*
Grandma MC: What a sweet girl. *chuckles* I do really hope she comes by again.
Crowley: Granny— *sighs* Nevermind. I'll be going back to my office now.
Grandma MC: Oh. But I thought you would stay for lunch?
Crowley: ...
Crowley: Right. What I mean is, I'll be back in my office after I eat lunch with you.
Grandma MC: *smiles* Make sure you eat lots.
Professor Crewel: You've gained weight, Crowley.
Crowley: Only a little!
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etheries1015 · 10 months
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Obey me x twisted wonderland crossover where MC goes to twisted wonderland from obey me but has their full range of magical powers
Only problem is, they can't really use it.
How would MC feel, hearing over and over about their useless state, when they are infact a rather powerful sorcerer?
pt 2 as requested: Here
Magic in twisted wonderland is managed and flows through mage stones, whilst in obey me magic is by a persons inner nature, and seems to be contained/managed via a wand of some sort (until you become mastered at it, like solomon, who still uses a wand!) Of course there are sigils and and other mediums to be used, however for this scenario, they are dulled thoroughly due to the 1) cut off between worlds and 2) The inability to adapt to a different worlds principles of magic.
Blot just isn't a thing in obey me, MC obviously doesn't have the ability to accumulate blot, so their type of magic is just incompatable with twisted wonderland. So imagine how goddamn frustrating it is when everyone likes to remind MC how magicless they are? And they really don't believe you when you tell them you're actually the apprentice of the most powerful sorcerer in humanity, and can control 7 of the most dangerous demons from your world.
"MC has about as much magical talent as a box of crayons," Ace snorts. He wouldn't be saying that if you just had the power to curse his mouth shut.
"You have no real merits to offer me, not to mention you cannot even use magic," Azul pointed out. If only you could summon leviathan and have him send lotan octavinelles way. They would be sobbing at your feet begging for forgiveness!
And Vil. "You're just about as polished as a sack of half priced potatos!" ...If Asmodeus were there to hear that comment. Vil would get a very analytical lecture about every tiny flaw and detail in his life. Vil would be shattered by the end of it, his pride and what he thought was beauty down the drain.
Crowley laughing at you to your face when you tried to tell him about devildom and where you wish to return. You? A magicless human? Hilarious. Crowley has been through his fair share of "demons" and dark magic, and he definitely did not believe you fit a "summoner of terrifying beings" vibe. If only Satan was there, then Crowley would really understand what it was like to fear something, and regret poking fun at you and taking your concerns so lightly. "If you had the ability to summon powerful demons , how come you are still here?" He mocked you. Of course you had tried, however with the problem being the connection between two completely separate dimensions causing a drift in your attempts to summon any of the brothers, It was nearly impossible. Sigils just did not carry the same amount of magic in twisted wonderland as it did back home.
It wasn't until you held one of the wishing stars (from the "make a wish" event) that anybody began to believe...no, consider your "ridiculous" stories. You held the star to your chest and made your wish of wanting to return home, to which it glowed so bright and cracked. Everyone stared at you as your star shattered, only someone with high concentrations of magic could cause something like this to happen. Since it wasn't powered via mage stone or the need of blot accumulation, your natural traces magic had managed to break the wishing star. Something only someone with a huge pool of magical ability could accomplish, if even.
"I have been trying to tell you guys" you growled, picking up the shattered pieces. Getting over the initial shock of the entire situation, they quickly dismissed it as a faulty star and writing off the strange phenomenon. There is just no way someone such as yourself could possibly hold such great traces of magic that you actually shattered the star, right? They all looked down at you, saw you so much differently, and treated you as such. You didnt belong at that school, and they made it clear. Well.... No matter.
Wait until they realize you finally had managed to successfully contact Lucifer, and they were actively working on your safe return.
And wait until they feel his power when he hears how poorly his little sheep had been treated.
~~~~~
Check out my masterlist for more of my works~
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haezen · 6 months
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pairing: lucifer x gn!mc
word count: 1k
summary: you and lucifer get into an argument, and you block him as he's typing.
set in obey me nightbringer (but there are no spoilers!)
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To put it simply, you have been exhausted as of late. With the brothers running you ragged, and midterms approaching at RAD, your patience has worn dangerously thin. 
And apparently, so has Lucifer’s.
Lucifer:
Did you forget something?
You:
Not that I recall. Why?
Lucifer:
Well, obviously you have forgotten. So, I’ll gladly remind you.
Satan must have been lent you some of his tomes. And YOU forgot to put them back where they belong. Safely tucked away. 
They are scattered all over the living room along with the papers you’ve scribbled all over. Come over at once and clean up your mess.
Annoyance bubbled in your gut at the request  — no, his demand. 
You’re lounging on the couch with takeout on the way and thanks to Solomon, a hot bath (with bubbles) awaits you. If you were to go over to the House of Lamentation to fulfill Lucifer’s demand, the night you had planned for yourself would be ruined. With a glance at the time, you notice that it’s approaching midnight and there’s no fucking way you are leaving the comfort of the couch to attend to any of the brother’s needs. 
And the last thing you need right now is to be on the receiving end of one of Lucifer’s lectures through text. 
You:
No. Not now.
Lucifer:
It wasn’t a suggestion. Come over to the House of Lamentation now.
You:
I said no, Lucifer. It’s late and I’ve had a long day.
Lucifer: 
And you think I haven’t had a long day? 
What makes you think I want to come out of my office to see the mess you have left all over the living room? 
I don’t think I have to remind you that you’re also our attendant.
You:
That doesn’t make me your maid.  Listen, I’m sorry for not cleaning up after myself but I’ll clean it up tomorrow.
Lucifer:
I’m not going to tell you a third time.
. . .
As his message comes through and the three little dots pop up that signal he’s still typing, you decide that you are done for the night. You refuse to put yourself through more of this torture and to get under his skin, you block him. 
You throw your phone on the couch, force yourself to stand up from your position, and head to the bathroom to take a bath. The time it takes to undress and get into the tub is almost record time. The water instantly warms your skin. It’s the perfect temperature. Solomon also didn’t forget to set the atmosphere. There are candles lit all around the bathroom which only adds to the flowery scent emanating from the bubbles. You slide down further into the tub until the water encapsulates you from your shoulders down. 
You’re not sure how long you were asleep until the sound of a door slamming shut startles you awake. 
“Solomon?”
The silence that follows makes your heart start pounding. It’s unlike him to not announce his arrival and peek in to see what you’re up to. With a pounding heart and a lump in your throat, you call out for him again. 
Nothing. 
The water sloshes and spills out over the edge of the tub as you move to get out. There’s no time to dry off as your nerves start to get the best of you. You snatch your satin robe, a gift from Asmo, off its hook and tie it around your waist once you shrug it on. 
The urgency in your footsteps is evident as you come hauling ass into the living room. A figure looms in the darkness of the hallway and you move towards it without a second thought. 
“What the fuck!” You shout, pushing who you think is Solomon back a few steps. He stumbles but regains his balance almost instantly and you flick the light switch on. 
Instead of being met with Solomon’s gentle and teasing smile, you are met with the eldest brother in his demon form. And he’s furious.
Anger still swirls deep in your gut, but it’s nothing compared to the undeniable rage emanating from Lucifer. You’re frozen in your spot as Lucifer inches closer to tower over you.
“Think you can just ignore my messages? That you can block me whenever you please?” His crimson eyes are glazed over and a scowl is set in stone on his face. It’s at this moment that you realize there’s nothing that you could say to calm him down. And that thought alone absolutely thrills you.
“Why can’t I? Because I’m your attendant or because I’m ‘yours’?” You say defiantly, tilting your chin up to prove that you aren’t scared of him. “Last I checked, I’m off the clock.”
“Last I checked, you are mine.” Lucifer snarls. “Or have you forgotten that as well?”
“It’s pathetic that you think I belong to you and you alone, Lucifer. Don’t I attend to all of you?”
“Pathetic?” He tilts his head and oh, you’ve fucked up. He takes hold of the straps of your robe and grips them firmly before he tugs, forcing you to take a step towards him. He’s so close that you can feel his hot breath fanning your face and the air feels as though it’s been sucked straight out of your lungs. You’re hoping that he’ll release his grip on your robe, but he doesn’t. 
He leans down to whisper into your ear, the sensation sending a shiver down your spine. “Shall I remind you?” Lucifer tightens his grip on your robe to further emphasize his point. “Since you so obviously need to be taught a lesson.” 
You hesitate to respond, stunned at his change in behavior. But as he returns to standing tall above you, eyes piercing into yours, you know he’s still pissed. You, a human who is no match for a demon as powerful and infamous as Lucifer, dare to challenge him?  As the Avatar of Pride, there’s no way Lucifer could ever let that slide.
“Apologize.” 
“Excuse me?”
“Apologize for being an asshole and maybe I’ll let you stay for the night.” 
He’s quiet for a moment, thinking. But you continue.
“There’s absolutely no reason for you to ever speak to me that way. Haven’t I been good to you, Luci? You deserved to be blocked for how you acted.” You place your hands on his chest, smoothing down his perfectly ironed button down shirt. His eyes follow your actions, as if he’s actually considering to step down from his pedestal and apologize.
“So won’t you be a good boy and apologize for interrupting my bath? And for being an asshole?” You grin up at him, sliding your hands down from his chest to grab his own, where they are still gripping your robe. “And maybe go out and get me some dinner while you’re at it, since you left my takeout outside in the cold?”
“Do I look like your attendant?”
“Yeah. Though I would definitely prefer you to wear your uniform.” You nod, unable to stop your grin from widening. He’s already fallen for it.
“Get your hands off me. You’re not allowed to touch me until you’ve apologized.” 
He listens immediately  and retracts from you as though your skin burns to the touch. 
“So?”
“Sorry.” He mutters so quietly, you could barely hear it if not for the close proximity. 
“What?” You tease, leaning in closer. “Say that again for me? A little louder?”
His gloved hands make contact with your face and his lips meet yours in a clash. His kisses are desperate, rushed, and sloppy which sets your insides ablaze at his fervor. He rarely loses control, so to see it for yourself...
When you pull back for air and open your eyes, Lucifer’s smug expression makes you want to smack him.
“Sorry.” He repeats as he lifts a thumb to wipe your spit from his bottom lip. “I just wanted to see you. You’re the only person I wanted to be with tonight.”
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