#at its cruelest and most evil
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holygroundgone · 1 year ago
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On the incredibly heated debate of "who's cock is bigger, luo binghe or mo ran?" I will always rule in favor of luo binghe on the metric of mo ran's dick immensity having never caused him grief
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kissandtellus · 1 month ago
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Pls pls pls write a brat tamer sylus fic with mc calling him daddy and some spanking at the start🙏🙏🙏
A Bullet a Day
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Synopsis: Being bratty was one of Sylus’ biggest pet-peeves. But you know what was worse? Ignoring ‘doctor’s orders’.
Warnings: Mention of being wounded, Spanking, Degradation, Choking, voyeurism , brief mention of our face Doc.
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Sylus had dealt with some of the cruelest, most evil, dangerous criminals as the Leader of Onychinus.
But nothing, nothing made him break his cool faster than the bratty girl bent over his lap.
Her ass was raw and red, tears springing to the corners of her eyes as he lounged in his leather armchair. He had lose count of how many seats he landed on her ass after 30. His phone was tucked into his cheek and shoulder, his fingers drawing shapes into her sensitive flesh.
“P-please Sy-“
“Silence.”
Thwack!
That tone sounded almost bored. MC choked back her sob, biting her bottom lip. She had pissed him off again, it wasn’t entirely her fault this time.
Sure, she took a bullet in the arm for him, but that wasn’t TOTALLY her fault!
But Sylus didn’t see it that way. The conversation on the phone had something to do with a shipment that had went missing in the N109 Zone. But MC was trying to ignore how the blood rushed to her skull from being folded across his lap.
He ended the call with a less than kind response. His phone was tossed somewhere on the side-table. His strong fingers tangled in the hair near the nape of her neck, wrenching her head back so he could lean down next to it.
“How does your arm feel now, Kitten?” In truth, her arm barely ached. Being the girlfriend of the Leader of one of the most dangerous organizations this side of Deepspace, had its medical perks.
So when she sniffled and she tried to give him her best puppy-eyes, he clicked his tongue.
“You can take a bullet shredding your flesh but you can’t take 50 spanks? You’re so pathetic.”
Sylus release her hair, letting her tip forward. She barely managed to catch herself on her hands and knees between his legs. Sylus was quick to grab her throat, guiding her lolling head against his muscular thigh that was bulging through his dark dress pants.
“Do you want to make it up to me?” His thumb stroked her trembling lower lip.
“Y-Yes! Yes I’ll be s’good Daddy!”Sylus bit back his chuckle. He wasn’t sure she had been good in her entire fucking life.
Sylus tsk’d down at that sweet face, lounging back in his chair. “Use that pretty mouth for something other than ‘bitching’, yeah?”
She didn’t need to be asked twice. She reached out for his bulge but Sylus let out a sharp whistle, a sound he had trained her to snap to attention for.
“No hands.”
Was he for real?
MC chewed her bottom lip before leaning forward. She gently grasped the edge of the fabric around the metal button, jerking her head quickly to pull the fabric away. Then with a delicate bite, she unzipped his pants, eyes never leaving his crimson orbs as she slid it down.
Sylus took pity on her enough to pull his aching length from his pants. The pure size alone never failed to make MC blush.
Many of Sylus’ enemies talked about the huge balls he had for many of the heist he pulled off.
They were wrong.
He had a huge dick.
A dick that was tracing wet precum across MC’s cheek. The pre-cum covered tip left a slimy snail trail under her mascara lines.
“Open up, Kitten. Nice and wide-good girl~.” He praised, tapping the leaking head once, twice-before pushing into her warm mouth. “Biggg stretch, Little One.”
Big stretch was an understatement. The burn from his cock filling her throat made MC tear up. Sylus had trained her well. With just a little resistance, he was snug in her throat. Her nose nestled against the neatly trimmed white pubic hair at the base.
Sylus held her head there, finger tracing over the bandage over her arm. “Now, you’ll stay right like this. Breathe through your nose. I have to make a call to your doctor.”
He grabbed his phone again, ignoring her frantic gags and choke.
“What was his name again? Oh, Dr. Zayne.”
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littlefireball · 10 months ago
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ʏʜ|ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ʀᴇᴅ ʀɪᴅɪɴɢ ʜᴏᴏᴅ (ᴀ/ᴍ)
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ʟᴏɴᴇ ᴡᴇʀᴇᴡᴏʟꜰ ʏᴜɴʜᴏ x ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ʀᴇᴅ ʀɪᴅɪɴɢ ʜᴏᴏᴅ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ꜱᴍᴜᴛ|ᴠɪʟʟᴀɪɴ ʏᴜɴʜᴏ (ꜱᴏʀʀʏ ᴛᴛ)|ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴᴇᴅ ᴏꜰ ᴇᴀᴛɪɴɢ ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ|ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪꜱ ꜱᴄᴀʀᴇᴅ|ɴᴇᴄᴋ ᴋɪꜱꜱ|ʙʀᴇᴀꜱᴛ ᴘʟᴀʏ|ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ|ʙᴜʟʟʏɪɴɢ, ᴇxᴄʟᴜᴅᴇᴅ, ʙᴇᴛʀᴀʏᴀʟ| ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ʜᴀᴅ ᴀ ʜᴀʀᴅ ᴛɪᴍᴇ & ᴄᴏʟʟᴀᴘꜱᴇᴅ|ʏᴜɴʜᴏ ꜱᴀᴠᴇꜱ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ|ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴᴇᴅ ᴏꜰ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ|ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴏᴜᴛ|ᴘᴜʙʟɪᴄ ꜱᴇx
⚠️ᴛʀɪɢɢᴇʀ!! ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴜɴᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛᴀʙʟᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ɪᴛ ⚠️
ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 5.9ᴋ
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“Blood…lungs…eyes…kidney” Yunho transformed into a wolf and sprinted through the dense forest. His strong body seemed to be infused with the power of the wild, and with each stride, he kicked up dust, creating a howling wind.
His fur was like shadows in the night, dancing in the wind as he raced. The corners of his mouth curled slightly, revealing bloodthirsty fangs, and his eyes sparkled with the fierce gaze of a wild wolf. His eyes were deep brown, filled with the essence of savagery and bloodshed.
Intense hunger consumed him, driving him into madness. His mouth repeated the same words over and over again, his mind filled with the tantalizing taste of human flesh. His thoughts were chaotic, alternating between confusion and clarity, running aimlessly through the forest, allowing his desires to replace reason.
"Hmm?" Suddenly, the aroma of food wafted through the air, a combination of roasted meat and creamy flavor. Yunho halted his rapid pace and followed the scent, leading him to a small cottage not far away.
"Find it..."
—-----
"Little red, go get the medicine for your grandma."
"Alright." Your grandmother caught a cold a few days ago, and because she has trouble moving around, you can only visit her and deliver medicine every week. She lives alone in a small cottage near the town. You have invited her to come and live with you, but she prefers the solitude of the forest, away from the hustle and bustle of the town.
"Don't be too late."
"Okay." You packed your things and put on your bright red hood, heading towards the forest. Everyone in town loves to call you Little Red Riding Hood, even your mother likes to call you little red. You also enjoy being called that. This hood is your special symbol, a coming-of-age gift from your grandmother.
—----
"This meat is not fresh at all." Yunho disappointedly spat out the minced meat in his mouth, disdainfully looking down at the bloody corpse on the floor. The body was contorted in a grotesque posture, a pained expression frozen on its face, forever capturing the moment of death. Its upper limbs had been violently ripped off, while its lower limbs hung haphazardly on the armrest of the sofa, oozing fresh red blood from irregular wounds. The walls of the cabin were stained with horrifying bloodstains, and the nauseating smell of blood hung heavy in the air, making one feel sick.
Yunho sat down and casually wiped away the foreign red blood from the corners of his mouth. The hunger had temporarily subsided, but he was not satisfied; animal meat no longer fulfilled his twisted desires—it was humans that he craved the most. Because of his "preference," which violated the rules set by the wolf clan and humans, Yunho was driven away by his own kind and condemned from ever setting foot in wolf territory again. This was the cruelest punishment for a wolf, as without the protection of the pack, it would be easy prey for hunters. However, this seemed to have little impact on Yunho, for his innate strength made him view hunters as no threat. Instead, being "exiled" was what he craved the most, as it finally freed him from the constraints of rules and regulations.
“Those idiots should kill me but not expel me. Tsk…but no matter what, I will kill that guy if he does anything that gets in my way.” His tone was arrogant and provocative, not taking the punishment seriously. "Okay, I'm well-rested~ Let me find my next prey." He said. At that moment, he noticed the calendar on the wall which read "Granddaughter's Visit" and today's date.
"Oh? Visiting day? Perfect~ Saves me some trouble." An evil thought crossed his mind. A cunning smile appeared on his face, accompanied by a cruel gleam in his eyes, instilling fear in anyone who saw it. He disposed of the dismembered body in a hidden ruin, cleaned up the bloodstains in the house, put on the clothes of the house owner, and lay down in bed, waiting patiently for his prey to arrive.
---
"Knock─Knock─Grandma, I'm here." You knocked on the wooden door as usual, waiting for your grandma to open it. However, there was no response from inside the house even after some time had passed. 
"Is she asleep?" You cautiously opened the door, afraid to make any noise, but there was nothing unusual to be found.
As you entered the house, a sweet scent filled the air─an intoxicating fragrance that was both enticing and comforting. This scent made Yunho's murderous intent fade away, replaced by an inexplicable hunger─not the hunger caused by lack of food, but a Pandora's box-like desire.
"Grandma?" You approached the bed quietly, wanting to check if she was asleep. Just as you were about to pull back the covers, a massive hand suddenly reached out from underneath, grabbing your wrist tightly and pulling you towards the person. Caught off guard, you were pulled down onto the bed, screaming in fear.
In front of you was not your grandma but a man with a big frame. He supported himself with both hands on either side of your head, his eyes glowing with a terrifying red light, emanating a chilling aura as if he wanted to kill you. You covered your mouth with both hands, feeling as if an invisible barrier prevented you from screaming. Your whole body trembled uncontrollably, breathing became erratic, and the muscles seemed to be locked in chains, rendering you immobile and helpless, consumed by fear.
On the other hand, Yunho felt strange reactions in his body: his breathing became rapid and deep, heart pounded uncontrollably, skin burned like it was on fire, and he longed for the touch and caress of others, even his member's slight erection. 
Could this be...the so-called mate? No, it couldn't be. He was a werewolf, and you were a human. How could it be possible?
Unbelievable, and yet impossible to deny. He, who always viewed humans as prey, how could he accept that a human was his soulmate? This might be the cruelest punishment from God.
"No...why you...no." Yunho's chaotic mind prevented him from forming coherent sentences. Despite his continuous denial of the reality before him, his body's response was the most honest─he wanted to fuck you so badly.
"Who are you...?" In your trembling voice, there was a hint of despair and fear. Instead of resisting or escaping, you found yourself asking for the name of the terrifying stranger in front of you. Unaware of your own thoughts, despite the fear, you subconsciously wanted to get closer to him, to touch him, and even felt a strange desire for him.
He snapped out of his daze, and the terrifying look in his eyes softened, revealing a trace of tenderness that didn't match his character, but the fierceness remained.
"Shouldn't you introduce yourself before asking for someone's name?" He remained as blunt and impolite as ever.
"Y/N..." It seemed like you were stunned, as you blurted out your own name directly.
"Yunho." Surprisingly, he told you his name, something he never did with anyone before.
Both of you were bewildered, not understanding the situation.
"Why are you in my grandma's house?"
"You guess?" His voice was filled with a seductive magnetism, carrying an irresistible charm that made you want to hear more.
"What...you..."
"I ate her." These words hit your heart like a hammer, filling you with sadness and fear. The emotions spread throughout your body, tearing at your nerves, oppressing your heart, making it hard to breathe, and causing your tears to flow uncontrollably.
"You are…!?"
"Wolf...or should I say, werewolf." Seeing your pitiful appearance, his desire burned even stronger, and he couldn't control it anymore.
"You smell so good, Y/N." His fingertip traced the trails of tears on your face, sliding down to your trembling chest, suddenly tightening around your arousal. You were startled, and your body trembled, unable to resist. You desperately closed your eyes, accepting your imminent fate of being killed.
"So sweet, so intoxicated." The desire in his heart finally overwhelmed his rationality, and he couldn't resist the temptation any longer. He pressed himself onto you, his hand naturally caressing your face. His lips brushed against the skin of your neck, occasionally licking and sucking, savoring the taste like a delicacy, greedily inhaling the sweet and intoxicating aroma. His kisses gradually moved higher, from your neck to your ear, his tongue gently caressing your earlobe, sending shivers down your spine.
"Ummm...Yunho..." You attempted to stop the man on top of you, unknowingly fueling his desire even more. "Be patient, my mate." At this moment, he let the desires take control of his body. His struggle before seemed like a mere act. He returned to your neck once again, burying himself in it, leaving a trail of kisses and red marks all over your body, making you feel waves of warmth throughout your body.
You didn't resist, but instead, became intoxicated in this kiss. You knew it was wrong, he killed your grandmother, and you should feel anger, disgust, hatred, and fear. Yet, your body obeyed his kisses and marks, not resisting at all. This contradiction made you feel helpless, with complex emotions swirling in your head, like being trapped in a whirlpool, struggling but sinking deeper.
"I hate you." All you could say at this moment was these three words in a final act of resistance, even though it was futile. Yunho stopped his movements, once again meeting your desperate eyes. He suddenly felt a pang of guilt, but considered it a mere illusion, disregarding it.
"Keep hating me, because no matter what, you can't kick me off, Y/N." When he said your name, a surge of emotions overwhelmed you─you wanted him, wanted him to call you, to kiss you, and to fuck you. However, regardless of your desires, you couldn't admit or give in to these sinful desires. The endless self-blame and guilt within you wouldn't allow you to follow your desires.
"Let me eat you." With ease, he tore apart your shirt, leaving only your bra to cover your breasts. He buried his head in your chest, sucking on your collarbone and moving down, leaving a trail of kisses. His long tongue glided over every inch of your skin, leaving red marks on your breasts as if savoring a delicacy. He pushed your bra up and used his big hands to knead your breasts, occasionally teasing your nipples with his thumb.
"Ahhhh..." The continuous stimulation made you arch your back, moaning softly. Your hands unconsciously gripped his broad shoulders, pulling him closer. 
"Someone horny, huh?" His words made you blush, and he further teased the sexual desires you had been suppressing. Suddenly, you felt a tingling sensation in your lower body, as if something was brushing against your most sensitive area. His tail swayed left and right, lightly touching your clit like a gentle feather.
"Hmmm..." "You like it?" His face wore a satisfied smile as he continued his sucking. The room was filled with the shy sounds of sucking and your moans, brimming with endless desire.
While he licked your left breast, he didn't forget to caress your right breast. You could clearly feel every movement of his tongue, its undulating and flexible dance, circling around your nipple. The wet touch made you tremble involuntarily, and each time he sucked, it was as though an electric current coursed through your body. He moaned against your chest, emitting a sound only an animal could make. You took deep breaths, your body tense with anticipation and excitement.
"I can't get enough of you." Your lower body had already become wet, and you felt a cooling sensation due to your drenched panties. His massive cock and tail occasionally brushed against your clit, providing subtle but tantalizing touches that made you crave more. Too much stimulation has already eroded your rationality. You both wanted more, even though deep down, you were still struggling with your conflicting emotions.
"Yunho, I..." Just as you were about to speak, Yunho sensed the danger and immediately sat up, using his incredible jumping ability to leap far away in an instant. "Bang─" Almost as soon as his feet touched the ground, a gunshot rang out, and a bullet surged through the air, directly towards the spot where Yunho had been. It shattered the glass window beside the bed.
"Get off her!! You fucking wolf!!" A man broke in, holding a long gun and pointing it at Yunho who had transformed into a werewolf. Your sanity returned as the hunter shouted, and the burning heat in your body instantly cooled down. You immediately covered your exposed upper body with a blanket, watching the hunter step by step approaching Yunho, feeling an inexplicable worry.
"Tsk..." As the hunter fired again, Yunho, as if predicting his movements, easily dodged his attack. Taking advantage of the opening, Yunho broke through the wall and disappeared from sight at an incredible speed.
"Are you okay? Little red?" You snapped back to reality, looking at the hunter in confusion.
"I... I'm fine." You said this subconsciously even if you are not fine at all. 
"Let's go back. Your mom is worried about you. She hasn't seen you come back, so she asked me to find you. But... let's not talk about it, let's go back quickly!"
You nodded, but your gaze kept lingering on the forest where Yunho disappeared, feeling an indescribable sense of attachment and worry - emotions that shouldn't exist.
Yet, deep in heart, you had a premonition that you would definitely meet again.
That night completely turned your once smooth-sailing life upside down. Yesterday was just an ordinary and peaceful day, but today has become a merciless nightmare. The care from your neighbors is no longer there, replaced by suspicion, exclusion, and alienation. No one dares to come near you, the "something brings disaster" and "traitor."
You have no idea where the rumors came from, but you know that everyone is filled with malice towards you. You have been falsely accused of being a selfish and heartless scum, willing to sacrifice your grandma for the werewolves. Or you are said to be a witch who will bring misfortune to the town, mercilessly killing everyone, and your grandmother is the first victim. Nobody cares whether you managed to escape from death, or how you feel. All you receive are harsh accusations and contempt.
At first, you tried to clarify the truth, repeatedly stating that you did not make a deal with the werewolf, but everyone ignored you and believed baseless rumors. Because those words seemed to be the most reasonable explanation for why you had so many hickies and why you could still be unscathed when you encounter a man-eating werewolf. Now, you hide in your home, avoiding contact with the townspeople, hoping that time will make forget everything. But it is clear that this is not an effective resistance.
"Hey!! Witch!!" Laughter and mockery from several children outside the house pull you out of your dreamland. You can't even count how many times this has happened, there has been no peace ever since that night.
'Bang! Bang!' Following the insults, several foul-smelling water balloons hit the window, exploding and splashing a mixture of water and feces all around, the nauseating stench making you feel sick to your stomach.
You can no longer bear it. The calm expression on your face suddenly becomes difficult to hide, and you pick up the broom in your house, wanting to drive away the brats outside. "I am not a witch!!" You fiercely open the door handle, roaring in anger, as if resisting all injustice.
"The witch is coming out! Run!" Not only are they not afraid, but they also make funny faces with a disgusting smile. The anger in your body gradually climbs up your forehead, your hands tightly gripping the stick, almost ready to bleed.
"You bastard!!─" You put all your strength into your arm, trying to drive away the children in front of you.
"Get off our children! You bitch!!" Your action is stopped by a shout, and neighbors come from afar.
"You wicked woman, don't you dare harm my children!"
"Just look at how you wanted to hit them!"
"Are you trying to take their lives?"
"The rumor is right! You are planning to beat them to death and feed them to werewolf!"
Word by word, like a tsunami, they swallow you, leaving you speechless. The malicious words pierce your heart like sharp knives, and all you can do is repetitively say "No, I'm not!" meaningless sentences, allowing injustice and pain to engulf your heart. Your anger from earlier completely disappears. You shouldn't have gone out, you shouldn't have resisted at all.
"I would never have guessed that a woman like you could be so promiscuous!"
"Hmph! Just look at the hickies on her body!" You quickly tighten your clothes, trying to cover the lingering passion marks, while your body keeps retreating.
"I didn't... I didn't... the werewolf forcefully kissed me..." You speak the truth, but your weak voice goes unheard by others.
"If it weren't for you getting involved with that werewolf, I would never believe that you could still be alive!"
"Why shouldn't the werewolf just eat you?"
"No... it's not like that!" No matter how many times you clarify, no one believes the truth in your words. Their ears and eyes have long been shielded by rumors. The gaze of the others becomes cold and disdainful, and you see those who used to smile at you now turning into cold strangers. Those outrageous rumors are like demons, completely distorting others' perception of you.
Feeling helpless, you want to retreat to the house, but you accidentally fall to the ground. Upon seeing this, the others intensify their insults. The hateful words hang over you like a dark cloud, unable to be dispelled. You desperately seek your mother's help, as she tries to figure out what's going on outside. However, the moment she meets your gaze, she silently retreats back into her room because of fear, leaving you to bear all the heartless attacks on your own.
"Mom...? Mom??" Your hoarse voice breaks hearts, revealing immense disappointment. She hides behind the door, not daring to step out. No matter how others hurt you, you can still endure it, but her avoidance deeply wounds your soul. You lower your head, trying to avoid the mocking and teasing gazes. Your heart trembles in sadness, and tears continue to flow from your eyes.
"Someone saves me..." You close your eyes tightly, and tears stream down your face as your body trembles uncontrollably. You silently pray, hoping that someone will rescue you from despair and illuminate the darkness within your soul.
"Yunho..." Your subconscious mind calls out the name of that man - the werewolf who led you to this situation. Is it your heart's desire or some mysterious force compelling you to call for him? Unable to understand your own mind, all you want now is for someone to save you.
"Hey! What are you doing?!" A man's voice suddenly comes from nearby, and its owner pushes through the crowd. A huge figure stands in front of you. Gradually coming to your senses, you look at the hero before you, filled with hope - the hunter who saved you that night. In that moment of confusion, you desperately wish that the person before you is Yunho.
"Get away from her." He waves his hand to disperse the crowd, and seeing this, the others gradually disperse. "Are you okay? Little red?" Showing the same concern as before. He helps you up, gently patting away the dirt from your body, and gazes at you with care, as if he is your safe haven. Not knowing if your mind is not functioning properly, you unconsciously mistook him for Yunho. Was it the desire that day that made you obsessed? Or do the hickeys on your body have extraordinary magic power, making you think of him all the time?
"No one will hurt you anymore, don't be afraid." He pats your back, soothing you gently. "Why? Don't you think I'm a curse?" "I was the one who saved you back then. I only believe what I see." His words are like a lifeline, saving you from despair. Even though he is not Yunho, whom you obsess over, you still project the image of Yunho onto him.
"I will protect you, don't worry." He tightly holds your hand, warmth and concern shining in his eyes. He gently wipes away the tears at the corner of your eyes and whispers comforting words. His strong arm wraps around your waist, giving you a sense of stability, as if he always appears when you need him, to shelter you from wind and rain.
Time passes, and when you regain your calm, it is already late at night, and the hunter has been by your side all along. You both sit in the park at the edge of the town, gazing at the beautiful moonlight. 
You break the silence, slowly speaking, "Thank you."
"You're welcome." He smiles shyly.
"Don't you mind how others think of you? They might also exclude you."
"I don't mind. I only follow my heart and do what I want, without being influenced by others."
"But..."
"Little red, I believe in you. I believe you're not the witch they speak of." Those four words shake your heart like a powerful injection, as if someone finally understands you.
"Thanks." You don't know how to respond, but you feel a hint of warmth finally reaching your wounded heart. Maybe because you have suffered too much, tears flow from your eyes without your control.
"It will be okay. As long as I am here, you'll be fine." You nod your head and lean it on his shoulder, enjoying this fake tranquility.
Soon, you will discover that this is all a trap.
And neither of you realizes that Yunho is sitting on a nearby tree, observing everything.
—--
In the days to come, he always appeared and comforted you when others bullied you. He was considerate, taking care of all your needs, as if his initial words were not empty promises, but true commitments. People are most vulnerable when they are weak, and inadvertently, you found yourself lost in his "tenderness."
On this day, you decided to secretly sneak into the tavern in the small town to give the hunter a surprise. "I wonder if he'll like it?" You looked at the basket in your hand, filled with the delicacies you made. Sneaking to the tavern near the forest, you hid beside an open window, secretly peeping inside and saw the hunter and his friends drinking.
You contemplated when would be the best time to give him the gift, but then the conversation you heard shattered everything you believed in.
"I told you, women are easy to deceive. As long as you appear by her side at her weakest moment, say a few sweet words, she will willingly fall into your embrace."
"You really have the skills, thinking about fabricating rumors that she is a witch. I almost believed it too."
"Of course~ Why else would she come to me? And thanks to those stupid townspeople."
"Then what is your next move?"
"Her virginity, I bet it hasn't been taken by anyone yet. Maybe…no I must be the first one to take it."
The evil laughter was piercing, and their despicable smiles made you feel nauseous. Your world completely collapsed, and your heart was filled with chaos, frustration, disappointment, and sadness, just like when you were bullied in the past. You thought you had finally found a guiding light, but instead, you caught the mastermind behind this chaos, and even unwittingly fell into his embrace.
You felt ashamed of your own foolishness and naivety, and your eyes were filled with endless disappointment. Your body felt bound by invisible gravity, your shoulders slumped, and the basket in your hand dropped to the ground, scattering the snacks.
"Who?!" The sound of the basket hitting the ground caught everyone's attention, and you woke up from disbelief, quickly running away.
"Little red?" "Fuck." You didn't think much, only relying on instinct and intuition to make a quick decision, running straight into the nearby forest. Your heartbeat accelerated, your breath became rapid, and you desperately crossed your legs, trying to distance yourself from the hunter chasing after you.
"Don't run away~ my baby~" Ah!! this phrase made you feel disgusted to the extreme, and your heart suddenly tightened, feeling a surge in your stomach. "I can see you~." As the chasing sound drew closer, you could only increase your speed, with possible escape routes and call out that name again Yunho, strange but familiar, constantly flashing in your mind.
"Yunho..." You grew anxious, focusing only on running, too afraid to stop. The sound of a gunshot piercing through the sky terrified you, your vision darkened, and your knees gave way, causing you to fall onto the leaf-covered ground.
"My little red~ See? I found you. You can't run away~" He approached step by step, his huge figure blocking the moonlight, casting a dark shadow over you, enveloping you in terror. He had an evil smile on his face, his depraved mind thinking about how to "taste" you. Even though the truth was revealed, he showed no signs of panic, but instead revealed his true nature.
"Why did you come to the tavern? Wouldn't it be better to stay at home obediently?" Unconsciously, you continued to retreat, but the trees behind you blocked your way. You struggled to stand up, but your legs were too weak to support your body due to fear.
"Get off me." Another useless resistance. 
He kneeled beside you, holding a gun against your chin, while his other hand boldly slipped under your skirt, pushing up the hem and caressing your thigh.
You clenched your teeth, tightly held your fist, but had no strength to eliminate the oppressive feeling of fear. Faced with the threat of death, you dared not make a move, only closing your eyes, trying to escape from the reality in front of you. Your body trembled continuously, as if shrouded in an indelible shadow. Your cries sounded so pleasant in the hunter's ears, igniting his most perverted desires.
"Let me eat you out—ahhhh." The sudden scream made you widen your eyes, the oppressive feeling on your body disappeared, replaced by a shadow. A clear and terrifying bloodstain appeared on the hunter's neck, and fresh blood spurted out like a fountain. The screams of pain were choked by the gushing blood, unable to escape. He frantically covered his neck wound, but the blood flowed uncontrollably, like a prisoner breaking free from its cage.
"How dare you touch her?" The hunter lay on the ground making meaningless syllables, struggling with his legs and backing away in fear. "Such a poor thing! Aren't you the one who tried to kill me? What's wrong?" Yunho kicked the hunter's head swiftly and forcefully, blood spurting as he did so. Without much resistance, the hunter fell to the ground in response, the blood stopping flowing with his death.
"Tsk...scum." He kicks the hunter's head in dissatisfaction and crushes it. The sound of the blast makes you shiver in fear, the man in front of you is even more terrifying than the hunter. He turns around, his body stained with red blood, the blood spots on his face adding to his horrific beauty. The moment you meet his eyes, it's as if an electric current passes through your body, making your heart skip a beat.
"How stupid are you to throw yourself at him-" his words were cut short by your sudden embrace. You pressed yourself against his chest and wrapped your arms around his waist, not letting go of him as if you were afraid he would leave.
"I miss you, Yunho." Yunho couldn't help but freeze at the sound of your words, his eyes turning to surprise at your behaviour.
"Mind your words, Y/N. You better know what you are talking about." His low voice warned you, and at the same time roused your senses. You did follow your heart just now, not worrying about whether or not the man in front of you would kill you outright.
"I know what I am saying...I just miss you." your voice was choked with sobs, tears staining the shirt on his chest.
"I've been praying for you to show up... I don't know why, but I want you." You know all this emotion is undeserved; he killed your grandmother, caused you to be ostracised, and even though it was a hunter's plot, what Yunho did was undeserving of the infatuation you have for him.
Maybe he really did put a drug on you-the poison named soul mates.
"You want me? Huh? You know you're responsible for what you say?" He pushes you away slightly, bending down to maintain the same eye level as you, his eyes full of endless lust. As he keeps hearing you call out to him, the lust in his body can't hold back, and it burns like a flame in every part of his body, driving him to snatch you away from the crowd. 
Whenever your call rings in his ears, he can only run wildly through the forest, trying to replace lust with exhaustion. Deep down he still struggles with the idea that humans are his prey, not his mate, but he can't help but peep at you. And this time, when your life is threatened, he can't stand it any longer.
Once again, his lust flares at your words, his cock hardening and pressing against your lower core. Hands on the back of your neck, he pulls you towards him, and breath sprays onto both of your skin, filling the space with a seductive ambience.
"Please, I want you-" and before you know it, he catches you off guard and kisses you on the lips. The two of you are attracted to each other. A brief moment of shock and tingling makes your hearts beat faster, and then your lips and tongues begin to explore the depths of each other.
The kisses you share are electric and fervent, as if you're both yearning to merge into one another completely. He pulls you in with fervor, teasing your lips with a mix of gentle caresses and fervent bites. Your tongues dance together, exploring and savoring every moment.
Your hands roam freely over each other's bodies, ignited by an insatiable desire to touch every part of each other's skin. You wrap your arms around Yunho's neck, tracing the contours of his backs, and at times, you press so close that you can feel the heat radiating between you.
"Let me fuck you hard." He leaves your lips, gasping for breath, and pins you against a tree trunk. He plunges into your skirt and removes all your lower clothing, his fingertips brushing against your clit, causing you to purr.
"Oh please." "So wet." He licks his fingertip that covers with your juice, pulls down his trousers and then lifts you straight up, his strong arms under your thighs, making your feet dangle. His huge cock goes straight into your cunt, filling you completely.
"Ahhhhh~~~Yunho~~" You've never had sex before and you're so sensitive that the mere moment of his thrusting makes your heart race like crazy and gives you goosebumps. His thrusts are like an infusion of wildness, urgent and ferocious, wanting to explore all of you. Your cunt sucks on his thick cock, giving him endless stimulation.
"You feel so good, oh gosh." The thrusts are rhythmic, each one going deeper and deeper, satisfying your emptiness and making you purr.
"Ahh~ah~~umm~" His lips glide over your neck, playfully nibbling and teasing your skin with tantalizing licks that send shivers down your spine. You can feel the warmth of his breath against your ear, a thrilling contrast that quickens your heartbeat. As his kisses grow more fervent, you instinctively arch your neck, craving deeper connection. His lips dance passionately across your delicate skin, as if he longs to claim every part of you.
Each kiss is a sweet torment, delving into the curve of your neck, igniting a slow, uncontrollable wave of desire within you. He gently sucks on your most sensitive spots, drawing soft whimpers from your lips as you instinctively tilt your head, inviting him to explore further. Seizing the moment, Yunho deepens his kisses, relishing every inch of your skin with an insatiable hunger.
"Sweet af, so prefect."
"Ha~fuck~"
Instead of easing up, his lower body movements are getting more and more exciting. His body becomes more buried in your arms, his cock seems to break through the limitations and pushes deeper. A thrilling rush courses through you, making each breath feel like a rare indulgence. You gasp, reveling in the relentless contact of his body against yours, allowing the heat within you to soar to its peak.
"Yuyu...I ahhh." Your affection for him drives him to the brink of madness as the pace intensifies. The whole forest vibrates with scandalous noises: your back pressed against the rough bark of trees, flesh meeting flesh, and sporadic gasps echoing through the air.
"I have a knot...in my stomach...yuyu." 
"Cum, babe...Cumming mess on my cock." He grabs your arse and controls you to swing back and forth.
"Ah!Ah!Fuck!Alpha!"
The origin of that word escapes you, yet it burst forth from your lips in a moment of pure instinct. Yunho halted, his desire surging to an overwhelming crescendo at the sound of your voice. After a flurry of passionate movements, you both reached the peak of ecstasy together. His essence spilled forth, coating you and trickling down to the floor beneath.
As he gently lowers you back to the ground, he pulls away, leaving both of you breathless. Your faces glow with a rosy hue, smiles of fulfillment dancing on your lips, as if you had just returned from an extraordinary adventure.
"You are mine now, Y/N." 
"Huh?" 
"I knot you. You can't get away from me anymore." 
"Knot me...?" 
"That means you'll always be here for me. Never leav─"
"Over there!!!" A sudden fire lights up the dark sky, and a group of townspeople with weapons are running in your direction. Both of you take a closer look and notice that their figures are getting closer. You grab Yunho's arm in fear, panic raging through your body, images of past oppression flashing through your mind. You don't want to─don't want to be captured by them.
"Oh, there's a lot of customers, huh?"
"You bitch, you're having an affair with a werewolf!"
"I can't believe you killed Mr Hunter!!!" The crowd once again hurled insults at you and your body began to tremble as you felt seriously uncomfortable.
"Yunho...we..." you take his hand and try to pull him away to escape.
"Don't worry." He smiles softly, not panicking as he carries you in his arm, glancing provocatively at the crowd behind you.
"Dare to kill me?" His provocative words enrage the townspeople, who booed, and one of them even shot at you suddenly. Of course, Yunho easily dodges the bullets and leaps into a tree.
"She is mine now." A wicked grin spreads across his face. "And~ I will repay all the injuries she suffered ONE—BY—ONE, just wait." Without waiting for the others to react, he leaps in the other direction with you in his arms and disappears into the darkness of the forest.
Maybe the rumours weren't true after all - the werewolf eventually killed everyone who hurt you. The so-called "Little Red Riding Hood" fairy tale is just an adaptation of a later story, because no one knows the real ending.
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bitchlessdino · 1 year ago
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demon's play 2: devil's intervention (m)
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Original - Demon's play Pairing: devil!wonwoo x demon!seungcheol x demon!chan x afab human!reader Genre: smut Word count: 10k tags: plot heavy, some fluffish moments, perpetual fear, ikea employee!reader, dom!wonwoo, sub!reader, verse!chan, verse!seungcheol, cum drunk!demons, violent graphic imagery (death, lashing, sacrifices), mentions of blood, Voyeurism, biting to the point of blood, MLM themes that is not based off of any implications of reality, hair pulling, choking, spitting, double fem head, biting, mentions of holes (referencing anal play), mentions forked tongue and sharp tail (and it being used for some kind of hitting), oral (giving and recieving), handjobs, degradation, multiple orgasms bc girls its possible i swear, cum swallowing, nipple play, unprotected sex Summary: it's been some time since Chan and Seungcheol abandoned the underworld for you, a simple human. The ruler of the underworld does not too kindly to distractions, even ones so prettily packaged such as yourself. It was time he took matters into his own hands. author note: yall remember this? I just wanna give my utmost gratitude to @multi-kpop-fanfics for reading my fic front to back, beginning to end, rough to final, the whole nine yards and boosting up my self-esteem like no other. I am so excited for this bc i think this is the dirtiest yet (with room to improve) so thank you so much my lovely demon babe zeta.
Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @jeonride @novalpha @nvmrljk @feat-sun @tinkerbell460 @aaniag @tacosandbitch @cottoncheol @embrace-themagic @kaiser211 @pantumin @unlikelysublimekryptonite @channiesliquor @i4kt
The world has made most people believe that the devil was born out of evil and hate. By word of mouth, the devil has become the most vile most disgustingly despicable spirit imaginable and that’s why they were cast as ruler of the underworld, that only he could conjure up the world’s most cruelest and grueling punishments for the above-ground world’s sinners.
The one thing Wonwoo despised the most was that assumption. The true history of its origins was that he and his predecessors were chosen ones. Not so much made to be the devil but rather he had been nurtured to exist as one, much like how humans grow up on the Earth’s crust. Wonwoo, following the footsteps before him, was no fallen angel. 
He was god’s favorite—that was at most correct—but for being the most impartial and like-minded to them. The only other person to rule a world such as the light land, heaven according to humans; or the underworld, also known as hell. His status was a gift but over time became a curse, a burden by god who bestowed it upon him.
A truly dedicated and impartial person would understand the severity of sinners and their stories. Particularly, the proper punishments. A lifetime of ruling the underworld had made him numb. Only power and order kept him sane.
The moment those two things decline, so does his patience.
Not one, but two, of his dutiful service demons disappear in a matter of 4 Earthly months. Had it been in the initial era of his ruling, he would not pay it a single second where they went, but after a millennium of the sickening sights he’s swallowed, he would not stand for this inconsistency. The one thing that he looked forward to was the company, no matter how annoying and clingy they can be. 
Wonwoo hadn’t stepped onto Earth in an indiscernible expanse of time and it was unlike what he remembered, one thing was clear, the underworld was infamous for its inferno weather, but Earth weather was another kind of disgusting. The vessel he took on made it intolerable, perspiration beading revoltingly on the back of his neck. He adjusted his glasses, slipping his hands into his pockets, and sought to discern an energy unlike any he had encountered among the feeble humans thus far.
He succeeded in isolating a unique energy signature, yet the absence of his demons momentarily cast doubts upon his intuition. Then, he found you, standing in what he determines to be a reliquary of transcribed lore, the incubus scent growing stronger as he drew closer. You seemed no different from any other human, vulnerable and defenseless against his indomitable power, and utterly ordinary.
So why had he started crying?
In the recesses of his consciousness, fleeting images of a countenance reflecting yours danced like ethereal flames. The memory of your smile–or one like yours–gentle yet insistent, reached out and seized at the very core of his being, unfurling layers he never fathomed existed. It had been eons since he last experienced such human-like tethering since he too was bound to Earth by the fragile ties of blood and flesh.
However, your presence was the catalyst for their absence, a glaring aberration in his otherwise solitary existence. And that singular realization meant only one course of action: the inexorable termination of your existence.
Wonwoo observed you from afar, studying your every movement, your predictable patterns of behavior, and the places you frequented like clockwork. Everything from your favorite place of consumption to the branding of hygienic production you purchase at a typical brick and mortar were all meticulously cataloged in his mind. The striking similarity between you and this entity from a bygone era stirred an unsettling disquiet within him, sending shivers down his spine with each passing moment. The longer he observed, the more his curiosity swelled, growing into an insatiable hunger for understanding you beyond what you present on the outside.
By now, Wonwoo had deduced just one aspect of your culinary predilections: a fondness for toasted bagels generously adorned with a creamy spread of a concoction called cream cheese and sprinkled with chopped chives. After a series of meticulous trials, he affirmed that this particular combination was not only pleasing but also a sensory delight to his refined palate.
However, your brewed coffee, fused with thickened dairy and doused in sugary syrup, was an entirely different story. Its sickening sweetness overwhelmed his taste buds, rendering it utterly unpalatable—a mere shadow compared to the gods’ divine ambrosia.
Humans truly were deserving of hell, you were no exception.
Wonwoo persisted in his quest to unravel the complex layers of your being, methodically tracing each footstep until they guided you back to the comforting confines of your earthly sanctuary. Veiled within the shadows, he seamlessly merged with the enigmatic darkness surrounding him, his gaze fixated on you with an intensity that pierced through the veil of mundane reality. With unwavering focus, his eyes followed the subtle movements of your fingers as they danced across the surface of a seemingly ordinary sentinel interface, a portal to the realm of security and protection.
‘0717.’ A rather simple yet familiar sequence of numbers in a form of security. 
With a precision honed through meticulous observation, he deftly navigated the labyrinthine corridors of your mortal dwelling. Transfusing effortlessly with the darkness, he moved through with a silent grace, his spectral presence a mysterious entity amidst the Earthly realm, devoid of any physical embodiment to shroud himself. With each passing moment, he attuned himself to the subtle rhythms of your routine, mastering the delicate interplay of light and dark until he could foresee your every movement with unmatched accuracy.
Finally, he discerned their voices, those traitorous whispers that pierced the silence.
“You’re home, pet.”
Wonwoo's gaze bore into the flesh embodiment of the young demon, seething at their shameless behavior before arms snaked around your mortal form. "I've missed you dearly," Chan cooed, his fingers delicately parting your hair from your face.
"I'm sorry for making you wait," you apologized, the sincerity evident in the softness of your voice. Your eyes held a glint of warmth as they met Chan's, a mixture of affection and contrition swirling within their depths. With gentle fingers, you reached out to adjust the folds of his human attire, intimacy amidst the sensual warmth that polluted the entraped space.
"Today was a longer day than usual, too many distractions. Please don’t be mad," your words laced with earnest.
"Oh, darling. I could never be mad at you," Chan responded tenderly, his gaze softening as he drew you closer. His touch is a comforting anchor amidst the hidden chaos swirling in the corner of the room, undetectable by the human and demon.
Seungcheol emerged from the kitchen, his form draped in a simple mortal garment that seemed unfit for his eternal significance. The cotton apron, stained and worn, clung to him like a tattered shroud, its once vibrant colors faded into a dreary mortality. As he approached you, a wave of revulsion washed over the Devil beneath his hiding space, his senses assaulted by the sight of such lowly attire adorning one who should command awe and reverence with his masculine presence alone.
With an unsettling blend of kindness and audacity in his gaze, Seungcheol dared to step into the embrace, his very presence a direct challenge to Wonwoo's finely honed sensibilities. The devil recoiled inwardly, a wave of repulsion washing over him at the proximity of this figure seemingly draped in the mundane fabrics of ordinary existence. Meanwhile, you found yourself ensnared within the comforting embrace of Seungcheol, willingly inviting him into your sphere despite the tension radiating from Wonwoo's silent disapproval.
"Supper awaits you," Seungcheol declared, his voice nauseating and unsettling to Wonwoo's refined ears, reminiscent of the sound of nails scraping across a chalkboard. Each saccharine syllable felt like a direct challenge to Wonwoo's perception of the demon he thought he knew. He observed, with a mixture of surprise and disdain, how Seungcheol appeared to have embraced the mundanity of domesticity and the mortal realm, embodied in the form of you, a mere lowly human.
For the first time in a millennium, Wonwoo felt sick to his stomach, as if it were possible with his immortal being.
He resigned himself to endure the ordeal for the sake of continued observation, silently watching from their concealed vantage point as the scene unfolded.
"You smell..." Chan's words trailed off as he inhaled deeply, allowing the complex tapestry of your scent to envelop him. "Delectable. Far more enticing than that banal perfume the servitude coerces you to wear."  With each breath, he discerned the delicate interplay of notes that bespoke your essence, a symphony of subtleties far richer than any artificial fragrance. As he drew you closer, he marveled at the intoxicating allure that emanated from your pores.
Wonwoo, too, found himself captivated by the depths of your natural aroma. Beneath the manufactured layers and demon essence, he detected the faint traces of your natural aroma—an intoxicating blend that beckoned with a magnetic allure, stirring a primal fascination within him. The embodiment of your rich humanity. It was a scent that spoke volumes, weaving a narrative vulnerability that resonated with him in an unexplainable way.
"No one's forcing me to wear anything," you reassured. "It's simply to smell pleasant during 12-hour workdays."
"You already smell pleasant without it! Even better, in fact!"
"Keep your voice down, Chan," Seungcheol cautioned.
“I apologize, pet, but at least only we get the pleasure of having you to ourselves.” The demon’s hand trailed deviously over your figure, a smile dancing against his features. "The supper wouldn't satisfy me the way you could, my darling.”
Wonwoo swallowed, keenly observing your reaction. The pebbling of your skin, your internal temperature rising beneath Chan’s fingertips, the moan hitched in your breath. Wonwoo clenched his fists, gaze hardening as the young demon’s filthy hands traveled further down your body, only watching as his hands cupped your heat hidden underneath layers of articles of clothing. Beneath the demon’s grip was thick arousal, soaking through your undergarments, drawing both demons–as well as the Devil–into a simple, yet powerful, spell.
"Allow the poor mortal to eat, you insatiable boy,” Seungcheol interjected, against his better judgment. “If you're insistent on nourishment, ensure they are in good health for feeding. Otherwise, their stamina would dwindle away as if it was nothing."
Chan scoffs, gently unhanding you but bridging the gap between his lips and your cheek, undoubtedly blistering the skin of your face from his heat of a thousand suns. “Fine, after you’ve eaten then. Then there’s no stopping my ravishing.”
The unlikely trio committed what seemed unfathomable to Wonwoo: they shared a meal and engaged in proper communication. The sight was bewildering; never in his wildest imaginings could he have conceived of two of his most loyal eternal servants obeying the commands of someone of your ilk. To Wonwoo, it felt like a humiliation, an erosion of the boundaries he had meticulously established. Yet, neither Chan nor Seungcheol appeared to share his concerns. As he watched them interact with you, he was taken aback by the unexpected humanity in their eyes, the warmth and devotion that seemed out of place in their demonic existence.
All Wonwoo desired was for them to consume the human and resume their demonic duties. The fact that the human remained alive contradicted all expectations; by all rights, they should have perished by now. Yet here they were, challenging his understanding of their loyalty to him, the lord of the underworld.
Seungcheol, renowned for his icy demeanor and unswerving commitment, had long served as Wonwoo's steadfast right-hand man. Like an unyielding pillar of iron, he stood unmoved amidst the ceaseless torments endured by countless unfortunate souls. His stoic resolve had been a constant in the chaos of their realm. 
Seungcheol was now in a role entirely unfamiliar to him. Gone was the facade of impassivity; instead, he delicately spoon-fed you soup, his normally unyielding countenance softened by a rare display of tenderness. It was a startling departure from the sternness that had characterized his every action until now, leaving Wonwoo to ponder the stark change unfolding before him.
As for Chan, laughter was reserved for the aftermath of whoever was his next meal or the spectacle of sinners being skinned alive in the fiery depths of the inferno, his favorite daytime event. There was a time when Wonwoo harbored an intense disdain for Chan and all that he represented. Every fiber of his being recoiled at the mere thought of Chan's existence, a visceral reaction fueled by a deep-seated revulsion.
He was once nothing but a vile, loathsome creature, radiating an aura of wretchedness and abhorrence in every aspect of his being. However, that was common for a demon. Wonwoo has not only grown used to the young demon’s cruelty, but he found the passion admirable. Now, Chan found himself utterly entranced by your...simplicity, his typically impish demeanor cushioned with the gentle stroke that swept your hair away from your face, careful not to disrupt your meal with any discomfort.
Wonwoo was perturbed. The devil waited for no one. He knew he must take them back at once. He could not stand for this no longer. The world was standing on the edge of crisis if these two lowly demons do not dare come back to the underworld, they would face his wrath. He had to force he hand until they were begging him to take them back. 
Yet, he stood still as he watched them enter the bedroom. Immersed in his silent fury, it dissipates in the unraveling of your clothing, each article falling to the ground like blossom petals in the spring or leaves in the fall. Seungcheol had managed to find the column of your neck in an abrasive squeeze between meeting your lips in a wet and ravenous liplock. Your moan was trapped down your throat, mumbles of submission in its stead, and your hands roamed over him at a hungry pace, tracing over every muscle pulsing under your palms.
Chan wasted no opportunity to cease your defenseless behind, his throbbing erection prodding against you as he reclaimed your heat now melting against his fingers. His teeth gnawed against the back of your neck, breaking skin, and exposing blood into the thick air. His tongue, catches its taste of iron, humming in delight as his fingers plunge inside you with conviction.
Wonwoo was not new to sexual acts, clearly. Nor, was he a man of celibacy in the slightest. Yet, the moment your voice broke into the charged air, he felt something enter his immortal body and churned stomach, then he was clutching his metaphorical pearls of chaste as he swallowed a lump of regret. Despite his egregious power, the scene made him frozen where he stood, feet plastered to the ground. 
He didn’t find a second where he could intervene, thinking study was necessary before he could deliver his final strike. Of course, that’s all this was. Nothing else.
“You’re starving aren't you,” Seungcheol growled. “I could smell your arousal for me before you even entered the apartment.”
“Tell me about it,” Chan joined, immersed in the air around you wafting in his nose. “There’s lust in these veins of yours,” his tongue swiped over the blood on his lips. “Don’t tell me you’ve been thinking about this all day…We fuck you every waking day of your life, and that’s still not enough. Isn’t that right?”
A “No,” barely made it past your lips before they were crushed under the weight of Seungcheol’s, and then you were the one starting to taste iron. Its aroma was as strong as they claimed, and Wonwoo fell under the same impression.
Chan tucked your hair behind your head, tugging you in his direction as his teeth skins into the base of your neck, his cock exposed in an instant and hugged between the plush felt of your ass. Your eyes retreated to your skull, trembling as Seungcheol’s cock pressed against your stomach. A shatter sigh broke out from your throat and you let them take over control of your feeble body.
They folded you forward, your lips mere inches away from the head of Seungcheol’s cock–teasing you in its glistening glory–as Chan’s precious weapon was ready to take the plunge. “Take it,” the young demon demanded with an underlying of a growl. “Then you will feel enlightened once again, pet.”
It didn't take you much longer to oblige, allowing Seungcheol’s size to be swallowed between and past your lips, hitting the back of your throat. Seungcheol’s fingers flossed through your locks, gripping at the root, and buried himself inside you as his eyes glowed at the glisten of yours. He could taste the power coursing through him, gently bobbing you up and down as you strained to fit all of him.
“That’s it, beautiful,” he softly encouraged, “does it hurt?”
You muffled an answer, one of confirmation.
“But you’re gonna try taking it all, aren’t you?”
To which, you mimiciked the sound before, twice as gingerly.
Your legs parted wide for Chan to make himself known in your sopping cunt and not a moment too soon, his slamming of his hips commenced, watching the cushion of your ass recoil against him. Your whimpers were muffled around Seungcheol as your arms were torn from control and roughly pinned behind your back in a vicious grip. Your eyes shot back Seungcheol in impulse, vibrating up his skin as Chan pounded your body back like dough, eyes and cheeks burning helpless yet complying tears.
The elder demon sent you no look of pity, only a smile of arrogance as he thrust faster, savoring how every inch of your body reacted in a delicious symphony. He has marveled at the tenderness and sensitivity of human skin before, but your flesh; it moldable like clay, looking almost edible, a fitting meal for one who craves the most tender of meat. Both demons groaned of ecstasy, letting you take the lashes of their hips at either of your welcoming ends. Even Wonwoo had to admit it was a sight to behold.
The back and forth of pampering and degrading ultimately led you to what happened every night since the three have been acquainted, blood curdling screams that could be mistaken for cold murder. In most cases for Wonwoo, the assumption wasn’t off, but tonight it was reserved for another sinful act. One that Wonwoo particularly was inexplicably intrigued with.
There seemed no end to your thirst for physical and sensual sanctity—no matter how rough and humiliating—and before any of them knew it, it had been hours since it’s been initiated. The devil stared at your body, glowing in your human perspiration, bare chest rising as falling to the pattern of your breaths, and cunt dripping in every fluid imaginable. 
Alive and well. Elated even.
Impressed wouldn’t be the word coating the tip of the devilish intruder’s tongue, yet he can’t help but applaud you and your endurance. It made him wonder what it was that’s in you that made you this way. 
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Wonwoo decided an investigation was in order, and no, that did not mean another scandalous showcase of how deep one’s mortal throat and taking two demonic phallic pieces at once.
“Can I help you find anything you’re looking for?”
Your voice, like velvet, strokeed his eardrums, allowing him to inconspicuously and gently avert his feigned attention from mortal furniture that could not compare to the material in the existence of the depths of the underworld, let alone from of the light land it so obnoxiously claims when exclaiming ‘like Heaven’s clouds’. The corner of his lips quipped upwards curiously as he briefly absorbed your features upclose, seeing the overwhelming facade of hospitality dance its somehow subtle waltz. From the soften of your brow and gentle pucker of your parted lips, he could sense how your poised demeanor melted under his presence now towering over you. 
“I’m actually looking for, um, things in my new apartment.” He imposed a chuckle, something lighthearted that emulated a false sense of security. “New place, new furniture. Not sure where to start. I’m used to people making that decision for me.”
Wonwoo hadn’t lied, it was true the underworld had been built in a way he couldn’t touch or alter, he just would have anything from this furniture store—let alone its air—in the residence that he’s long occupied in.
Afterall, the store was chaos embodied. The humans ran havoc with their tedious wonder and overzealous catalogs of boisterous furnishing as their spawnlings running up and down long corridors, jumping on fortresses of slumber with their filthy footware, and making a mockery of wreck of a merchant shop. No amount of coffee bitters and undercooked fruit pastries from its cafeteria would change that.
Nevertheless, Wonwoo was playing his part of lowly human, looking for a change in his sanctity, parting way for a furniture store in his aid.
“Of course.” You grinned tightly, eyes creasing as your cheekbones rose to the surface, bitten by the crisp ventilated air. “Well, we have an amazing selection of couches from leather to tweed, bookshelves made of the finest wood or strongest steel, anything you can possibly imagine. Where would you want to start first?”
Wonwoo honestly could not fathom such extensive assortment of furnishing, experiencing what buyer’s fatigue for the first time in his immortal life. He had trailed behind you and your guidance incessantly, playing on the charade of interested clientele, hoping at some point it’s come to an farewell and he could end his pursuit already. 
God, were humans tediously boring.
“And that about does it. Any that pique your interest?” You asked, rather hopefully. “I do remember your attention lingering on the antique wooden desk with secret compartments.”
That faired the most interest of his out of any of the pieces here. Like made of magic, it held more than an entity could handle and store, perfectly adorn and crafted with the most intricate carvings that would take day–no, weeks–to perfectly master. Standing on a wooden easel, the light perfectly captured graining, almost enchanting in its own simple way. It was…acceptable for mortal furniture.
“It looked alright,” he managed to muster. “I may have to come back sometime again to get a better look. I’m just looking around for now.”
“No problem. If you change your mind, I can just take you to some of our kiosks and ring you and have it shipped to you in one to three business days.” 
Your radiant smile illuminated even the most mundane tasks, leaving Wonwoo to ponder if your vitality extended beyond mere physical prowess. Such boundless energy and brilliance seemed incongruous within the confines of your modest frame. Perhaps there were depths to your character that he had yet to fathom.
"Um," he faltered, his voice wavering like the uncertain breeze in the depths of darkness in the darkest corner of his realm. Unlike the practiced guile he had wielded before to ensnare your confidence, this hesitation was genuine, born of a deep-seated unease. "Do you visit this cafe often?" he inquired, gesturing with a trembling thumb toward the dimly lit alcove nestled within the labyrinthine market, its air redolent with the tantalizing aroma of spiced venison and frothy elixirs.
You softly chuckled, clearing taking his soft tone as friendly conversation. “On occasion. Their dessert are a hit or miss, but the meatballs. Some say its overhyped, but its meat in my mouth, I’m not complaining.”
Your choice of words rendered you motionless, frozen in a sudden onset of shock, a hand instinctively leaping to cover your mouth. “I–that sounds so…”
Wonwoo interrupted you with a sincere smile and subtle ripple of mirth. I’m sure you very much welcome it. “I think I get what you mean.”
“Please don’t—just forget about the words that came out of my mouth.”
“Hard to forget to but,” Wonwoo pretended seal his lips with a zipper, invisible to the naked eye, while grinning impossibly hard, “as you wish.”
“I’m so embarrassed. My mind hasn’t been in the most…nevermind, but yes, the food is good. Drinks are worth a try. Avoid the cherry danish and substitute it for the cheese.” You attempt an escape, hoping to conjure a locker room out of thin air to hide in, knowing very well it across the other side of the building.
“Maybe, you could give a more indepth review,” He offered, his footsteps lightly treading towards you. “You seem to know the menu very well, and I have to say, I’m getting a bit hungry.”
You gazed upon the devil, unknowingly drawn by curiosity, your feet rooted to the ground in a mingling of shame and intrigue. The handsome stranger's invitation beckoned you. Eating on the job was a big no-no, with the only exception being the attempt to make a sale. Yet, beneath the weight of quotas and obligations, lingered the prospect of forging a new acquaintance—one that had captured your attention the moment you laid eyes on him.
“I could help you out with that.”
By no means was it a feast fit for the gods, but it stirred a ravenous hunger within the devil. Hearty, yet unassuming. A blend of ground meat, breadcrumbs, and spices, molded into spherical perfection and coated in a rich, savory sauce. It was the epitome of culinary simplicity—a revelation that Wonwoo had long forgotten food could possess such goodness.
“Wow.”
“Right? How do they do it? Some people even just come by for lunch.”
He continued to devour every inch of his plate. The meat. The gravy. The peas. The potatoes. He was in another world at the moment. 
“Why is it so cheap?” He pondered out loud.
“So the customers would feel more compelled to buy furniture. A little reward for all your stalking of the right furnishing.”
“The marketing is genius,” he exclaimed softly,  as he scarfed down more, ready to order a plate of 18.
“Wow. I don’t think I’ve met someone as into them as I am.”
He faltered in his movement, now forking over them curiously. “They are good. Like you said.”
You sighed, your gaze drifting over the glossy sheen of the brown coating on your chosen morsel. "Yeah, but I guess, I like this because it reminds me of home. My mom always made me a plate after I got home from school. It’s kind of nostalgic. I mean, sure, I can make some of my own, maybe even better than this, but having it made in a building with fake rooms that look like parts of a house reminds me of home. Weird, huh?"
Wonwoo remains silent. The only home he has ever known was the underworld, and any memory before that has dissipated as if it never existed. The closest semblance to it was you, a figure from his fleeting recollections of a past life. Someone who had begun to resurface in his once vacant vessel.
“Maybe that just amplifies their goodness,” he finally quipped, taking another mouthful.
You smiled, strangely comforted by his words. You didn’t think you’d enjoy having lunch with a stranger this much, but your surprise, there was more that meets the eye. And you had yet even learned his name. “If it's that good, you wouldn’t mind lunch here again? Maybe I’ll finally convince you to get that antique desk and-or even a sofa?”
A soft chuckle slipped from Wonwoo's lips. "Maybe.”
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His ‘maybe’s turned into more when he started visiting every day with very little prospect of purchase and gradually the familiar musk of his demons no longer clouded your actual scent, etched into the depths of his weathered mind. You sat together, sipping drinks and discussing imaginary furniture as if you were lifelong companions, sharing laughter as if it were the most ordinary and natural thing in the world.
Occasionally, Wonwoo would let his eyes travel, slowly dropping to the bareness of your exposed clavical, lingering over a shirt that seemed to have mysteriously unbuttoned one or two buttons too many, guiding his eyes to the gentle slopes of your breasts cradled beneath the weight of your crossed forearms. For some inexplicable reason, he found himself mesmerized, your beauty increasingly captivating, stealing away minutes and hours in your presence without him even noticing. And yet, he didn't mind one bit.
"You're gonna have to buy something eventually," you teased, raising an eyebrow.
"Then who's going to come to work and make your job a little easier every day?"
You softly scoffed, tearing yet another meatball but now dipping it in the bitter sweetness of the jam provided. "I don't need my job to be easier, I need to make money.”
He softly quirked up a corner of his lips in an impish smile, "Then stop having lunch with me then.”
"Not until you buy a couch.” You sternly refuted, failing to subdue the smile on your face.
You always would use that excuse, excusing work as purpose, and drawing the line between the two. Salesperson and customer. 
Before Wonwoo knew it, it had been a week since the first encounter, and strangely enough meeting you in a prompt sales pitch was something he was starting to look forward to.
“Maybe today’s the day. Maybe the couch of my dreams is in this store.”
You gazed at him with a straw between your lips, smiling knowingly at how untrue his proclamation was. He had never come close to making a purchase, yet you entertained him every time he walked past those double doors. The question is, why? Why does he insist on teasing you with the temptation of business and humiliate you by going against your expectations? What does he have to achieve by this?
“You’re breaking my heart here, Mr. Wonwoo.”
He chuckled at your nickname, growing rather fond of his name making past of your lips. How delicate you made him sound to be. 
“I think you rather enjoy my company.”
“That has nothing to do with our little…arrangment.”
He leaned forward, mesmerizing eyes piercing back at you in a way that made your heart chase. His bottom lips softly dropped to speak before he gently observed your features, convincing you he could notice from the shift of your throat to the halt in your breath. He met your eyes once again. “What is our…arrangement?”
You exhaled, sipping your drinking and hearing the obnoxious slurp of your now empty cup, and somehow your throat was still dry. “I think its pretty obvious.”
“Obvious? You give me too much credit.”
“Well, you’re here for furniture but have yet bought any.”
“Does that culminate a dispute between you and I?”
“Not exactly, but–”
“And aren’t you paid regardless if you spend time with me?”
“Yes, but–”
His laughter was light, a hint of mischief lingering. “Then I don’t see the issue. You enjoy my company, you get paid to do your job. Win-win.”
He had a point. You had no reason to complain, he made your work days rather easy in comparison to other days he isn't present. Not to mention, shortens the day drastically because you could talk to him all day without a fuss. Nonetheless, this was a job. Not high school.
Plus, how would they thought if they knew of this?
“Tell me, Wonwoo. What is it you here for? If not to help me earn commission?”
“Perhaps…I’m simply drawn to you. I want to know your name, what you eat, and what takes up most of your day. Maybe I have stopped thinking about you since I first laid my eyes on you and I can’t help but make it a routine to see you on a certain amount of days during the week so I don’t miss you.”
You didn't expect this, at least not a proclamation this powerful, yet jarring. 
“Then, maybe we should stop while we’re ahead, especially considering we know it’s going nowhere.”
“Is that really how you think? Or are you scared you don’t know what to expect from me?”
“...I–”
A deep chuckle escaped him, rising and dropping his chest as it tried suppress his laughter from becoming something more. “I’m kidding.”
“Not very funny, Mr. Jeon.”
“I apologize. My humor is not understood by most, but they laugh anyway. Probably scared if I’m serious.”
“Well, you could’ve fooled me.”
“Well, I think for the hard work you’ve done you do deserve a sale, so…I will be buying a couch today.”
Your eyes jumped in size.  “Seriously?”
“There’s some things I take lightly but not people’s livelihoods.” It was natural the devil had boundaries, although, he wasn’t sure if he was truthful about the pretainment to jokes.
“Wow, um. Let me take you to a payment kiosk, we can ring you up.”
Wonwoo ran through the catalog, seeking a specific name amongst the millions of others until his eyes landed on it. The Amelia sectional couch with soft high-density foam seating, a rolled arm on either end, built on top of the sturdiest hardwood, and crafted in the most luxurious cream leather. A stand-out piece for any home. You raved about it, dreaming of one day owning a piece like it yourself one day. Then you would have truly made it.
“That’s an excellent choice. I’m seeing you’re taking my advice after all. Although, I am surprised with this choice since you eyed the Selzar in maroon more. I thought it rather suited you compared to the Amelia.”
“You’re right, it doesn't suit me.” He swiped the credit card he foraged from his pocket, before turning the screen away from him, facing it toward you. “Your address.”
“W-what?”
“Well, the store will need it for the couch to be sent to your home.”
“Wonwoo, I cant let you do that.”
“Why not? It’s a gift. For all your hard work.”
“It’s too much.”
“I’m making the purchase, you get your commission, a new couch, and all the more reason for me to visit.”
“Why would you do this?”
He didn’t say anything, only smiling just a hint before turning the screen back toward him when you dont respond, making you wonder how did he ever figure out your address. However, that was the least of your worries.
The couch arrived the next day: your day off, and familiar faces of your coworkers grinned at you as they installed the pieces of the furniture in the middle of your apartment, playfully jabbing at you about the grand gesture of Wonwoo, the infamous customer that always seemed to have your attention. No matter how much you dismissed the matter, they persisted until the very second they were done, now leaving your apartment as a new owner of the most beautiful piece of furniture you ever thought about owning. 
You thought were still dreaming ever so as you ran your hand over the buttery smooth leather and feeling how cool and malleable it felt under your body. You softly moaned as the fabric grazed your cheek, buzzing at the fulfillment of your new furniture, falling in love with it like a new lover.
“Careful now, pet. Jealousy should not be extended towards inanimate objects.”
You softly giggled before Chan decided to join you to embrace your sides as he also grew into the comfort that was the new mysterious gift. A crackle of a moan escaped his lungs and he held you tighter, as if this single piece of furniture was somehow magic, enchanted to trap you both in a sealment of comfort. “Fine, I concede. This is amazing.”
“You’re so silly,” you teased before hugging your chest to his, eyes lifting up to stare at his brewing in a storm of stars and darkness. “Isn’t it the most gorgeous thing you’ve ever laid your eyes on?”
“Well, no.” His fingers went on to trace your jaw, lips parting and he imagined himself biting down, marking your skin with his canines. “That title is reserved for you. Would've thought you learned that by now.”
“Sure, but isn’t it fantastic? It’s beautiful.”
He chuckled at your awe, a soft sigh drawing through his nose, his hunger intensely garnering the longer he stared. “Where did you get such a grand, boisterous thing, darling?”
Your breath ceased for a moment, mustering up a proper answer, “Oh, just someone from work gifted it to me.” You weren’t lying. It did come from work and you did meet Wonwoo at work and he did gift it to you. It was harmless.
“Working hard, I see? Mmh,” His hand combed through your hair, eyes full of mirth twisting into burning fire as he didn't drop his gaze. “Maybe I should reward you as well. Perhaps by—how you say—‘break in’ your new gift?”
You softly let his name resonate on your tongue, feeling his passing hand cup over the spill of the flesh of your ass as he squeezed. You tensed, drawing yourself closer in wary caution. “You won't actually break my new couch, will you?”
His lip quirked up in a grin. “Well, I guess that’d make the furnishing rather short lived, but that doesn’t mean I can’t try breaking you.”
Chan devoured the quiver of your lips–tasting their feverish want–just as quickly as he tossed you on top of him, the friction of your clothes causing the muffled sounds of aches vibrating against his lips. In a flash, he ripped off your cotton shirt, his supernatural strength ruining another mundane piece of clothing just as he was ready to ruin you into oblivion.
Your tight peaks brushed against his chest before he held your valleys in his hands, kneading them ravenously, and curling the tension in your gut. You twitched into his touch, riding high against his thigh as he took control, burying yourself in the plush of his lips, and feeling his primal, ravenous instincts be what’s only left of his immortal body.
Seungcheol did not come up short at the sight. Coming from the neighborly laundromat after offering to wash your clothes of its filth, he equaled his footing as he engaged against your backside, slipping his hands through your pants as his nails, now sharp as daggers, scrapped against your thighs. “Having fun without me, I see.”
You barely placed his name until he stole you from the younger demon, rolling you to his side as his nails plunged into your flesh and struck an agonizing groan from your throat.
He chuckled lowly. “I’ll make sure to make up from lost time, my sweet.”
You heard Chan scoff from behind you, branding your lower back with his cock burning against you as his thighs held your ass to his crotch in an iron grip. “About time you caught up, old man.”
“Just wait till my name is the one that they’re screaming tonight, boy.”
You could never remember how you lose your clothes so quickly, rather you were much more intrigued by the passage each demon would take. There has always to be a not-so-friendly competition when it came to these two, no matter how long they’ve managed to coexist in this place. They seemed to have found a perfect medium in self-gratification and your pleasure, as long as either one had their turn and you were a willing prey. 
“Come on. You can do it. Just slide on top of me, pet.”
You took Chan’s gentle hand before climbing into his lap and hovering over his tip, swollen in impatience. A shattered breath took wind as you remained cautious as you always have, readily adjusting to the supernatural size as it invaded your vulnerable heat. His teeth collided with the back of your neck, his hands coming up from behind you and palming your tender breasts and caressing them as if they belonged to him, and perhaps in a way they did.
“That’s it,” he ushered, a hand lowering to pad over your clit, feeling the tender squeeze of your heat wrap about his shaft. 
Your hips moved naturally, arms stabilizing over the couch and Chan’s shoulders, while you let your desires take course as he thrust inside you. Your breasts swayed and bounced with the weight of gravity, having your lover’s lips then wrapping around a hard nipple, lapping the texture in heat. 
You felt weightless. Euphoric. You’ve lost count of the times sex had took place in this apartment with these two immortal beings alone, but you could never recount it the same way. It was always promisingly rhapsodical.
As Chan pierced you with every inch–grunting in your ear softly, but not struggling at all–Seungcheol took between your legs. His wide eyes were enflamed with the fire to destroy acres of land, while a smile graced his lips. His hand on either of Chan’s thighs, he leveraged up from the ground, eyes feasting on the force of the younger demon’s hips plunging in your cunt while your arousal dribbled down his peer’s thighs.
“Look at you, precious.” His hand glided between your thighs, mouth aching to gnaw on your plush flesh. His cock was a being of its own with how much it throbbed to be inside you. “It never cease to make me how you look…sound…smell with lust shooting up through your veins.”
He held your thighs against his hands, billowing you up and down towards Chan, and he glimpsed at the pulsating walls, locating your heartbeat and how it resided in your cunt just as much as it did in your chest. “Fucking brilliant.”
Seungcheol inched closer, devouring you with his other senses before then came his mouth, then came the flicker of his tongue, and finally his lower lips finding home in your pussy, not minding the cock already resided inside. His tongue traveled however it deemed fit and Chan didn’t mind, he rather relished in it.
Your curses melted into whimpers, pleasure masquerading as pleads, and your body molding to them like wet clay. Your mind seemed to wander with their heavy gaze as you expected to stare into space but instead, met eyes fiery just as either demon before you standing in the corner of the room. Curiously, you gazed at their stillness, slowly processing the familiar body it came with. 
Instead of frightening you or involuntarily tearing a scream from your throat, they somehow soothed you. It enthralled you that someone dared to watch and without a word leaving their lips.
Suddenly, the younger demon’s pace hasted. A sigh turned to a moan and you felt Chan buck his hips harder into you as his impish chuckles tickled your cheeks. “I love this pussy so fucking much.” His fingers spread your lips apart, feeling the viscous arousal form on his fingerprints and between crevices. “Aren’t I lucky?”
Your torso would’ve fallen over if not for Chan’s steady grip. Your eyes would not stray from the intruder—no matter how tense—realizing without his usual spectacles his eyes burned louder than you’ve ever seen. His smile was devastating, posture domineering. It was then you realized, you weren’t just a show. You were a showcase.
You almost whispered his name, drifting towards his silent beckon, but the demons held you down, bringing you to completion and your eyes forced shut. You tugged from the root of Seungcheol’s head and you lost yourself in the explosion that was your release. Chan’s lips broke from your skin reluctantly, easing his pace to the rhythms of your breaths. “Fuck, I can feel your cum. Try to warn a demon, will you?”
Seungcheol further buried himself between your legs, striking your inner thighs, and moaning into your heat, “Don’t you stop, boy. I need to tap more of their syrup.”
“Fuck,” Chan whimpered feeling the older demon tongue glide against his shaft while inside you, brushing harsh stripes along his pulsating thick veins, and for once he doesn’t argue, thrusting in you at top speed as Seungcheol’s full muscle collected your release.
Now Chan felt as if he’s the one to break lose out of control. His teeth plunge in your neck, canines breaking skin, and your voice gave out as you feel billions of his droplets shoot into you like a rapid stream. Your eyes fluttered as you twitched in his clutch, tears pouring out of your eye sockets, your cum mixing with Chan’s, and you’re stripped from signs of life besides a beating heart.
“Now it’s time to join your brethren, young demon.”
His voice boomed, bouncing off every wall and stunning both Chan and Seuncheol in spots. Fear reigned Seungcheol’s features as it did Chan’s and if you were mentally well enough, you’d notice the sweat pilling their skin not from fatigue, but from horror.
“M-my lord.” Seungcheol stammered, dropping your body against Chan and turning to the sound of the devil, recognizing him immediately as the devil’s eyes pierced and burned through his entire body. “How…” He swallowed as if doing away with his betrayal, but knowing its ineffectiveness. “We didn’t mean to–”
“Silence,” Wonwoo commanded.
Chan’s lips quivered, tears running down his cheeks, paralyzed as you laid limp on his body. “We were going to come back.” 
“As you were instructed to months prior to your quest on the Earth’s crust? Don’t filth your mouth of lies any more than you already have, vile creature.”
“What’s happening?” You breached while in recovery. 
Seungcheol then kneeled at Wonwoo’s feet, his naked body taut in respect, forcing his gaze to the ground. “We accept your punishment in all forms. We are ashamed of our actions and deserve the utmost repercussions, but please, do not harm the human.”
The devil slowly approached, foot placed on the crown on the demon’s head before he displaced his weight, “Do not descend your face to the ground or I shall show you no mercy…This human. They mean a great deal to you both, yes?”
“Yes, my lord,” Seungcheol answered without hesitation, struggling under the weight of Wonwoo’s foot.
“Y-yes, lord,” Chan softly cried.
Wonwoo’s smile curled, an arrogant breath expelling through his nose at his laughed curtly. He took his booted foot off of the demon’s head and instead claimed his hair, pulling up his features into view and seeing determination and defiance wrinkle his skin. “You’re foolish. You don’t deserve any ounce of immortality that you were gifted.”
Seungcheol’s head was shoved away, and relief bellowed in his chest from coming out unscathed, huffing air as if it was scarce before his chest tightened. “Does that mean the human will be left free?”
“...No,” Wonwoo strode until facing you in Chan’s arm, the younger demon softly grasped your body, unwilling to let go. “I have a…peculiar matter I would rather tend to. Now, young demon. Join your brethren.”
Chan shook his head furiously. “Promise they’ll be safe from your wrath, lord. I will follow you until the depths of the Earth, suffer every lashing, and scar you may dealt me. Please, let the human be free from your cruelty.”
“Let me finish. Join your brethren on the ground and place the human back delicately on this new furnishing you’ve already defiled.”
Chan shut his eyes with remorse and did as the devil asked, pressing a kiss to your cheek as his body followed to the space occupying his fellow demon, awaiting punishment.
Wonwoo huffed, feeling his power surging through him. “Now feast.”
Both demons gazed upon their lord of the underworld in confusion, but he only repeated himself. “Feast. Do as Seungcheol has done together. My judgment will be halted until then.”
“Feast on the human?” Chan blinked. “In order to…sacrifice them?”
“No. To enjoy them. I’m letting you both finish what was started. Do not disappoint me. Do I make myself clear?”
Their heads bowed in gratitude, mouths dropped slack in disbelief and hunger. They nodded their heads, muttering gratitude before reuniting with you at your feet. Seungcheol propped you tenderly against the couch and carefully parted your legs. “Let’s cherish these moments, precious. We don’t know if it’ll be the last.”
Your eyes fluttered softly. Having observed everything, you’re still confused, but your brain has melted from the intimacy. You didn’t think about properly processing his words, simply living in the moment. 
Seungcheol took your left side as Chan took your right. The demon’s eyes met in comraderie, nodding before inhaling your scent for what they believed is the final time. Their tongues tangled with one another, both either plunging inside you or running against you. You bucked up your hips at the sensation, lips parting in ache as you felt their warmth stimulate you and you feel the tension in your stomach coiling tighter as one sucked against your clit.
“So, mmh…good.”
“Fuck, I really do love this pussy so much,” Chan whined sucking against your sopping folds.
Seungcheol moaned around your clit, the vibrations running up your body and pebbling your skin. “I don’t ever want to stop…”
Caught in the highs, Seungcheol's fingers ran through Chan’s hair and pressed him deeper between your legs, hoping to find gratification in a form of your voice regaining power. He tenderly massaged Chan’s scalp, gently stroking his locks, thinking to himself, if he were to share you, it had to be done right, and his tongue darted lower to double pierce through your cunt.
“Oh, god…” You clawed against the leather. “Don’t…stop…”
Their arms wrapped around your thighs tightly, fueled by your unquenchable arousal, their tongues collaborating in you to taste every warm inch inside and out. All the sweat, moisture–all the cum either yours or Chan’s–the demon enslaved on it, worshiped it, cherished it with every fiber of their dark empty pits that replaced their souls. There was never enough and they weren’t for a second complaining.
“Spit on it, Seungcheol,” Wonwoo said, “Spit on their wet cunt.”
The demons paused and Seungcheol did just as told, spitting a fat load of saliva on the center of your core, to which you winced in surprise despite the warning.
“Push it in them, Chan.” And Chan obeyed, his tongue targeting the fluid and pushing inside you in practiced thrusts, glistening eyes staring back at you with tear-stained flushed cheeks.
“Repeat.”
They started alternating, Seungcheol spitting inside you to allow Chan to fuck it back in you. It was unreal, more reward than divine punishment and you clenched around the tongue. Then there were both tongues in your holes again as your thighs parted like two unhappy lovers, their mouths made love to them over and over, fingers pounding in you as perfect tools before you spilled cum in their mouths for more than the nth time. There seemed to be no end.
If one demon were more selfish, they’d collect more than the other, and if one were to fight back, they’d collect directly from the other's mouth. Chan often found himself to be the former, being caught fueding with Seungcheol in fits of passionate lip lock for fair distribution. They were so cum drunk neither cared who won because they always went back for more: your cunt and each other.
“Selfish demons. Neither one of you has taken a moment to breathe. Just how insatiable, are you?” 
Wonwoo stood closely behind the males, taking a more observant authoritative approach, knowing his words don’t hold the power they’re used to when incubi feed on their perfect prey. Still, he grinned smugly at the sight. His eyes met yours, finding you staring back at him, seeing more questions in your eyes than answers, massively clouded by the raging ache of your body being undone at the hands of the demons. “I hope you’re enjoying the gift, darling, you look pretty getting eaten up.”
“Wonwoo…how—oh…” 
Seungcheol’s free hand instinctively reached for your breasts, teasing your nipples and rolling them between the pads of his fingers. “Be careful speaking, sweet…he’s not not an average human or demon.”
“Demon?”
“He’s right,” Wonwoo say, knees dipping into the couch next to you.Your eyes followed his movement, seeing how his shirt was slowly cascading off his body with every button unlatched. “I am not something you simply speak in a passing moment. I hold more power than anyone in this room, but you’re getting to know that. I have forgiven you.”
He parted your hair from over your face and cupped your cheek, red eyes burning back at you as they ran over your face. Although he’s almighty and powerful, his touches were gentle and smile deceivingly kind, calling you toward him like ships to a lighthouse.
“I always wonder what this face would look ruined inside and out.” Wonwoo gripped your chin and forced you to face him, “It’s fascinating seeing a face like this construe into something so sinful, yet satisfying.”
His lips claimed yours hungrily and you could taste rage, power, and a tongue shaped like no other. It had girth, abnormal length, and was split at the center, each end slithering through the inside of either of your cheeks. 
It was then you realized it was a forked tongue. One unlike any done artificially. The pieces finally came together. You were tongue wrestling with the devil and you enjoyed it. He moaned against your mouth, teeth nipping at your bottom lip. “You’re so damn sweet, it’s infuriating. It’s no wonder these demons are weak to you, so weak to this pussy and these lips.”
He reunited with your lips, exploring you deeper as his hand wrapped around the stands of your hair and gripped, and you swallowed his grunts, while his tongue flickered at the back of your throat. “How many times have you released in their presence? A hundred? A thousand? A million? It’s never enough for you either, is it?”
You shook your head weakly, eyes begging for more as you were already addicted, feeling him awaken something in you that can’t be sated.
“I’m an all immortal being, so I know. Just like I know you wonder what I look like beneath my clothes…what I taste like…how I’d fuck you.”
“Fuck,” Chan breathed into your pussy listening in, reaching down for his cock that’s doubled in size, stroking himself to the sounds of Wonwoo’s vulgar language. Seungcheol joined him, but he didn't stroke his own cock, he held Chan’s, and their gazes were brought together as their tongues shared residence inside your heat.
“You’re tantalizing, darling little human, and as you see it doesn’t go unnoticed. I say I see for myself the issue, learn ways to…Manage  it. Satisfy it. To put back in order the underworld.” He grinned. “You’ll do me honor? Yes?”
You had no reason to say no, physically unable to, fighting waves of an incoming orgasm, but you made a feeble attempt of a nod as he kissed you deeper, the forked tongue prying your mouth and intruding at the back of your throat once more, if not deeper. Your shaky hands went to claim him, your mind so willing to submit to whatever his desires are, and not caring of the consequences. This was your everest.
It took a snap of Wonwoo’s fingers to divert the situation and he’s the one between your legs now as either demon appeared on your left and right of the couch. Their parted lips glistened from the mess, clear signs of moisture trailing down their chins and Adam’s apples, awaiting the instruction of the devil, but eyes locked with you who gifted them such an exhilarating experience.
“Return these insatiable demons the favor and I see to it that I…study your inner workings, mortal. Do I make myself clear, boys?”
“Yes, lord,” they answered, sitting up on their knees and presenting their throbbing erections to your face. You grasped at their shafts, tongue darting out of your mouth and rub the tips of their cocks along your mouth before switching off from one another.
Seungcheol’s hips gently thrusted towards you at his turn, a hand running towards your chest to tease your breasts as the other teased his nipples, pinching them to feed his arousal. “Oh precious, don’t you look darling?”
Taking your other breast, Chan softly whimpered, feeling his cock slide against Seungcheol’s, watching your face contort trying to fill up on both. “Fuck, rub our cocks together like that. You dirty little thing.”
The demons moved closer towards each other, staring down at you in astonishment and you inhaled them both with pleasure. Meanwhile, Wonwoo made himself comfortable, revealing the devil body with muscles, spade tail, and thick horns to match. You caught a glimpse of the view between the crack of sandwiched men, reveling in his positively delicious full form, and ached to know how he planned to use you. 
“You look just as pretty eating as you are being eaten,” The devil kindly praised.
The tip of his tail feathered over your thighs before it flickered over your clit, seeing you respond weakly with twitching hips. He grabbed the base of his cock, growing in his palm before lining up to your slit, rubbing it against your swollen folds. The spade of his tail then slapped your clit, jerking your hips forward, and mouth sampling only just a sliver of his size. That’s when you thought to yourself you could cum right then and there, without hesitation as if you had been untouched for centuries. “So sensitive,” Wonwoo cooed, condensation on his tone.
He finally pushed inside you, stretching your walls unforgivingly, and hearing your moans muffled against the cocks in your mouth. Wonwoo bared his teeth, thrusting his cock and massaging your walls before his tail snapped at you again as it does every passing moment. And he absolutely melted at the effortless way your body responded.
You expelled a shallow breath before sucking the demon duo’s cocks harder–pushing them deeper–and fisting them in either hand, as Wonwoo’s presence grew inside you, pumping into you like an object meant to be used. And yet, it left a permanent smile of your face. 
“Shit, come over here, old man.” Chan retrieved Seungcheol by the hair before shoving his tongue down his throat, passionately exploring him and ensuring he did the same. You stared up at them. Their moans were uncontainable, their lip moving in sloppily in raw, primal need—only bourgeoning your intense fixation—and your hips flicked back at Wonwoo as they continued to worship you all the while they started worshiping each other.
Chan teased Seungcheol’s nipples and Seungchcheol traced over Chan’s abdomen, both thrusting deeper in your mouth until they hit the back of your throat. They reeked of hunger and bliss, tongues buzzing against one another, and the only thing between them was you and their inseverable heat.
You winched as they stretched your mouth before you winched at Wonwoo’s size, having never felt so full in your life. It’s a symphony of sin and desire with no end, just as Wonwoo anticipated and he showed you no mercy as he took advantage. His hips snapped back at you like a whip, finding the spot burning the most fire and abusing the sensitivity over and over. Your legs were practically handlebars for his rage, taking out on you his frustration and impatience, plummeting his thrusts slick and thorough, practically jewels deep inside you.
If your mouth was free you’d ask for more but you didn’t need to as Wonwoo jackhammered into you, sensing your cum about to erupt around him. He scoffed, tightening his grip on your thighs. “That’s it, cum, you wretched little mortal.”
His eyes shut in pleasure, feeling you cum around to him in bursts while he was close. It was until he felt your dam burst in final flood reaching from your thighs to the vinyl floor that he pulled out without his climax, a layer of your cum coating his entire shaft and dripping off the head. His gaze ascended to the demons in passionate exchange, halting them with a single word. “Chan.”
The demon broke their bond, separating in a translucent string of saliva. His gaze averted to Wonwoo, noticing the shifting eyes of his superior and he bent over, taking his cock in his mouth. His mouth runs over Wonwoo’s explicitly loud, slurping necessary as he inhaled his entire shaft in one gulp and tasting you on him. “Tastes…perfect…lord.”
Wonwoo gently guided Chan by the back of his hair, brimming in delight as the demon boy vibrated around him, sucking and licking him clean Wonwoo of both your cum and lingerance of his. The young demon’s interest was palpable as he gazed at the devil with not only a sense of respect and fear, but a wordless lust untold in his round, glistening eyes. His hips–full and strong–gave into his aches, jerking into nothing but the ground as his cock swelled.
“S-shit,” Your voice gave out, marveling at Chan’s obscenity and growing envious as you desired to fit Wonwoo’s cock in your mouth. You fell to your knees, crawling over in a primal state to occupy the space beside Chan and taking a closer look, leaning into the demon’s vulnerable touch as you laid your hand on his waist.
“Don’t be shy, little one. Take it. Take my cock in your mouth.”
Chan aided you. Resting his hand on your cool shoulders, he raked through your hair, guiding your mouth over Wonwoo’s cock, and watched as your lips wrapped around him, engulfing as much length as you can take. “That’s it. Seek his forgiveness and you’ll taste his cum, pet.”
Chan’s lips brushed against your neck, exploring your skin and he tugged Seungcheol’s arm to do the same. You were at the mercy of the devil as the demons were at the mercy of you, kneading your flesh and memorizing the lines and curves of your body, tightly holding you in place. 
You could feel the tension build running your tongue flat up his shaft and his tail’s tip tenderly brushed over the curve of your cheek. His eyes shifted dramatically as he gritted his teeth, hips taking your mouth at anxiously fast pace, and he threw back his head before his tail wrapped around your neck and tugged you closer. You winced when you realized the spade was as sharp as a blade, feeling it slice a sliver of skin against your neck. Neither you or Wonwoo paid it mind as Chan has already gone and licked the wound too, serving this whole ordeal more delicious than painful.
Wonwoo may have been the devil, but he was starting to explode like any other human or demon when it came to his climax and you took him deeper in your efforts, cheeks hurting and eyes watering from the pain knowing that the pleasure would outweigh it. Yet, there was more surface area you haven’t covered, and with that you can’t help but feel a bit of shame. You were still human yourself.
“Take his cum, precious…”
“Let him ruin your mouth, pet.”
“He’ll fuck his cum back in your mouth and it all be better.”
“You won’t have to worry about anything else ever again.”
Finally, Wonwoo could control his strength no longer and his hot load pushed in your mouth and down your throat, seeping past your lips as it streamed down your chin. Chan’s tongue licked the cum’s trail: off your lips, your chin, your neck, while Seungcheol stole it from your mouth, scrapping Wonwoo’s reminisce in every crevice of your mouth with his tongue, even what’s down your throat.
“Wasn’t that pleasurable? Very well. Now. The punishment.”
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yinyuworld · 1 year ago
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its so funny xie lian does not give a fuck abt what ppl are saying about hua cheng.
heavenly court: hua cheng was there?????? he is the cruelest, most dangerous being in existence!! don't mess with him!!
xie lian: if he’s as cruel as you say, then why is he so kind, handsome and sexy? 🤨
heavenly court: he's the carnal evil! stay away from him!!!!!
xie lian: too late, we got married 🤭
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literarystarfish · 3 months ago
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April is the Cruelest Month 2025 Event
Prompts list by @aprilisthecruelestmonth
Day 7
Prompt(s): Panic Attack-|-Poisoned-|-Exhaustion-|-“No, no hospitals"
Words: ~2900
Cw: injury, blood, broken bones, few curses
I had a minor emergency yesterday (all good now though0, so I hadn’t been able to write or post yesterday. I’m nearly finished with Day 8’s as well… but we’ll have to see if I can get it posted before it’s technically tomorrow haha It’s another long one as well… so it’s unlikely… but I’m trying!
This is a hero/villain snippet that turned out a lot longer than I expected. It’s inspired off a story I’ve been working on for a while. I kind of miss writing for it though, so maybe this was the push I needed to write some more of it!
~~~
How they ended up here, the hero wasn’t sure.
They knew how they had physically gotten here, of course— though most of it they wished they could forget. The pain with every step— every measly, painful step— was seared into their mind and their body. Much like the injuries burned and cut and battered into their flesh and bones. Despite their best effort, at least part of their journey had been made while crawling. Including this last part, where their knees painfully digging into the hard concrete steps of the home they never thought they’d find themself in front of except, perhaps, with magically enhanced handcuffs accompanying them.
They would deny it wholeheartedly, but Hero didn’t know where else to go.
Their view of the world had been completely flipped on its head in the last couple of hours.
And, despite their differences, they knew Villain would be the only one who wouldn’t find them down right crazy.
And so that's how Hero found themself pulling themself up Villain’s front steps, hoping they would be understanding and not turn them away.
Perhaps if Villain had any empathy at all, the mere sight of the beaten and battered hero would compel them to help. Though if Hero was in any mood to laugh and it wouldn’t have caused the deep, excruciating pain from their broken rib, then the thought of Villain graciously helping their enemy in need would have them rolling on the floor.
But they could only hope Villain held some sort of soul. That the risk they were taking based on the inkling they’d gotten from years of battling the other superhuman that they weren’t all evil wasn’t about to blow up in their face.
Especially since they knew they had no where else to go. Even more so because they knew they couldn’t make it anywhere else without the darkness that was threatening their vision to take over.
Why the hell did Villain have to have so many stairs going to their place?! The furious thought petered out as a bout of nausea almost overcame them.
They huffed against the stair they had been trying desperately to climb against the growing darkness.
“What a way to show up to a villain’s home. Pathetic.” The relief they felt when hero heard the other voice coming up behind them was something they would have previously thought impossible. They would usually only have felt dread upon hearing that same voice.
They took a chance to look back, fighting down the dizziness it brought with it, seeing the villain they had been looking for walking up the stairs behind them.
They were carrying what looked like a brown paper bag. Of groceries. The domesticity of the picture alongside Villain’s face was almost laughable.
Villain didn’t even stop to look at them as they walked straight past them, flipping their keys out of their pocket and easily thumbing through them to find the one they were looking for.
Hero watched as Villain opened the door, walked in, and shut the door with their foot behind them.
They huffed out the breath they hadn’t realized they had been holding.
Of course they weren’t going to help them. Why would they? They are enemies.
They cursed under their breath as the black around their vision nearly took over.
Go. We need to go, they willed themself to keep moving, having known this was a terrible idea.
But they couldn’t.
They were in pain. They were bleeding heavily. They were exhausted.
And…
This was their only plan.
They couldn’t go to a hospital. They couldn’t go to the other heroes… and they certainly couldn’t go home.
They were alone. And, without help, it wouldn’t be long before some other villain found them half dead and decided it was easiest to take them out now, if Villain themself didn’t come out and do it.
Perhaps they’d bleed out at Villain’s front door, they thought, imagining how annoyed Villain would get having to scrap their dead body off the step. One last— perhaps very petty— thought that would annoy the villain that had been a throne in their side since the beginning. The one who walked right past them and—
“No seriously,” they heard above them.
The hero looked up to see Villain looking down at them with their arms crossed. Looking slightly amused and slightly confused.
“This is pretty pathetic. You know that, right?” Villain’s mocking tone grated something in the hero‘s mind, but they couldn’t do a damn thing about it. Not in this state. And not when they needed their help.
So, they swallowed their pride.
…And the nausea.
“C-can you help me? Please…”
“I mean, I’d hate to have you die in my front yard. Especially ‘cause I’m not the one to have done it. Can’t let some other villain get all the glory, ya know?”
“Villain… please..” Just the minimal amount of effort it took to speak was bringing the darkness in closer.
They were going to pass out.
Villain’s eyes grew wide watching Hero struggling to keep themself from face planting into the concrete.
Honestly, they were surprised to see the hero in a state like this at all. There had yet to be a villain that could even come close to defeating Hero. They’ve tried plenty of times to bring the corrupt string of superpowered, self-proclaimed, useless ‘heroes’ down. But they’ve never succeeded. They’ve only ever come close to beating Hero, themself, once. And it was only because they were worried more for the group of civilians in the crumbling building than they were protecting themself. The crumbling building that a superhero demolished in their own fight with a supervillain.
Hero: always cleaning up their superiors’ messes. The one that always saved the civilians that the superheroes didn’t mind putting in danger during their fights if it meant taking down their enemies.
And somehow, Hero wasn’t the one who was nicknamed one of the ’Heroes of the City’. Superheroes were all a scam anyway. More worried about getting credit for saving the city than actually doing it.
But here they were, bleeding and broken on their front step. In front of their door.
Why were they here?
Why wouldn’t they go to the hospital? Why wouldn’t they have called one of the other heroes for help? This had to be some kind of trap, right?
But… Hero never stooped to less-than-honorable tactics before.
And they were clearly in pain.
”What the hell happened to you?” Villain asked, more to themself than the Hero trembling at their feet. Unfortunately, that trembling was not in the way they’d have liked.
”Help—” Hero barely breathed out before they collapsed.
Villain found themself moving before they could think about it, catching Hero’s head before they smashed it into the hard edge of the step.
With Hero’s forehead propped up in their hands and their limp body sprawled out and bleeding on their front steps, Villain sighed, questioning why they had decided not to just leave the Hero like they had planned to do when they first spotted them there.
Curiosity killed the cat.
“Well… fuck.” They groaned.
Picking up the unconscious hero, they brought them inside.
“Should just give them to the hospital and be done with this,” they grumbled to themself. Something kept them from doing just that. Perhaps it was the pure oddity of the situation.
Villain easily set them down on the table. It was surely uncomfortable, but they were passed out and it wasn’t like they could complain about it. And besides, the dining room had the best light to look at their injuries.
They grabbed the first aid kit they had taken out after they had put their groceries away before despite their better judgement and got to work.
“You’ve got to be kidding me. What the hell did this idiot get themself into?!” Hero heard someone murmuring to themself as they began to escape the blackness they’d been swimming through. For hours? Minutes? Days? They weren’t sure.
They stiffened as a particularly sharp pinch where they knew they’d had a fairly large, open wound on their arm. They knew immediately that the person was stitching them up when they felt another sharp sting and the slight pulling of their skin.
”Welcome back to the land of the living,” the person said, louder than their previous grumbling.
“You have a— ah!—pretty light touch— jeez fuck— for a villain,” Hero groaned, feeling the way their lungs pulled at their ribs and the continued poking and prodding of their nemesis as they continued to work. They weren’t in excruciating pain, so they assumed Villain had given them something, but it definitely didn’t work 100%. Their broken ribs still hurt with every breath and each stitch had them flinching.
“Well there’s the Hero I remember. Wasn’t sure who you were for a bit there. Pretty sure I’ve never heard a hero say please. Or ask for help, for that matter,” Villain said dryly. Hero finally opened their eyes as best they could, adjusting to the light, and glaring up at the other.
Hero ignored it otherwise, not willing to justify the comment with a retort. They squeezed their eyes closed again when Villain pushed a little too hard for the mystery anesthetic to keep the pain at bay.
“I’ve stitched up plenty of my own injuries but I cannot say I’ve ever fixed broken bones myself. Never let myself get hit hard enough.”
“Bull…shit.”
“Well yeah,” Villain admitted. “But I’ve still never fixed it myself. Always had a doctor buddy do it for me. You probably don’t want me poking around your lungs with a broken rib like that.”
“Just… do your best.”
”Nah. I’m dropping you on the steps of the hospital. You know— where you should have gone in the first place?”
”N-no! No! No hospital…” Hero panicked. They couldn’t… couldn’t go to a hospital.
They’d know. They’d find out. They’d find them.
”Why?” Villain asked, dumbfounded.
Their eyes met. Villain’s confused and surprised. Hero’s panicked and fidgety.
“Can’t… can’t go.”
”Why wouldn’t you want to go to the hospital?”
“I just… can’t.”
“You’re a pain in the ass, you know that?”
”S-sorry…”
“No you’re not.”
It was silent for a while as Villain continued to work. The only noises in the room was the clinking of medical tools against the counter and Hero’s quick inhales of breath at the pain.
When the villain had finally got the bleeding under control, they looked at the Hero sternly.
”Last chance to let me take you to a doctor. I can’t promise all your bones will be straight after I’m done.”
”No hospitals.”
”Right,” Villain let out an exasperated breath. “Okay. Don’t cry about it when you’ve got a crooked leg or something.”
”Don’t make it crooked then.”
Villain laughed. ”At least you’re feeling better, I guess. Or the anesthetic really kicked in.”
”Whatever you gave me works well enough.”
”It’s a drug a friend gave me that numbs quite a bit of shit. Hard to give yourself stitches if you feel it.”
”Right…. Sorry about that...”
”Eh. Not always your fault.” Villain shrugged. “You’ve definitely got me less than some of the others.”
“Well if you’d follow the law…” Hero trailed off, second guessing themself. They weren’t quite sure the law was the long and the short of it anymore.
“Let me guess,” Villain started, holding Hero’s gaze. “You did something your hero buddies didn’t approve of?”
“What?” Hero asked, shocked. There was no way they could have guessed that.
“You are beat to hell. You refuse the hospital. You didn’t call a hero for help and you came crawling to me instead. So… clearly you don’t want the other heroes to know what you did. So what was it? Something illegal? You finally coming to the dark side?”
”Not quite.”
“Not quite…? You really are no fun.”
Hero regretted the laugh they huffed out, wincing as they did.
“I… I shouldn’t really say.”
”Aw, come on,” the villain pouted, “Who would I tell anyway? The heroes? Hell no. You can trust me.”
Hero rolled their eyes. “Yeah, right.”
“You’re here for a reason. I can’t say I helped you solely out of the good of my heart, either, though. I’m curious why you were here and not…well… anywhere else.”
“I thought…” Hero sighed, suddenly not sure if they should say what they were thinking.
“You ‘thought’? That’s a new one,” Villain teased when they didn’t continue their sentence right away. Hero turned their glare to them again.
“I thought,” they started again, “that you’d be the only one to believe me.”
Villain watched them for a while. Studying them. Trying to figure them out and what this could be about without the hero saying.
”And what makes you believe that I, of all people, am going to believe you?”
“Because I think you’ve figured it out already too.”
“Hmm,” Villain tapped their chin with a smile. “This is intriguing. I’m curious to know what you think I know.”
”The superheroes are plotting to kill off a bunch of the villains all at once. And they’re going to use civilians as bait.”
Villain froze. “What?”
”You knew about this already. Didn’t you?”
Villain just stared at them with wide eyes. Perhaps they had miscalculated. Maybe Villain hadn’t known about this, after all. Hero stared back.
“Did Superhero do this to you?” At the sound of their name, Hero shuddered. Their reaction was all Villain needed to know the answer. They grumbled under their breath. “That coward.”
Villain was correct, of course. The one person Hero thought they could go to when they had overheard another group of superheroes talking about a heinous plan to lure and poison hundreds of crime lords and villains all together and kill them off using some well-off civilians as bait was the same person who asked them to join them to pull off that heinous plan.
When Hero had pointed out that the innocent civilians that were unwittingly acting as bait for these supervillains would also perish, Superhero had been so uncaring. In fact, they almost seemed giddy about the plan.
‘It’s perfect! We get rid of some of these wealthy brats that think we’re their personal servants and we get rid of the worst of the worst all at once. If we get those ‘untouchable’ Villains off the streets, the smaller criminals will be terrified. It’s a win-win situation.” Superhero had shrugged. ‘We can swoop in, maybe save one or two of the brats and take down the villains while they are weak and dealing with the poison.”
Of course, Superhero hadn’t been thrilled that Hero disagreed.
‘If you’re not with us, you’re against us.’
The attack caught them by surprise. They never would they have thought Superhero would attack them.
Hero barely escaped being killed on the first blow, dodging just in time. Then Superhero had subdued them and their powers with power-limiting cuffs.
Weeks had passed where Superhero had kept them locked away with very little food or water. Each one seeming less likely that they would ever be let out. They had been running out of hope. Superhero had this idea that Hero would ‘see reason eventually’. But the more Hero argued against this ‘plan’ or even refused to even accept it, they would get angrier. Each beating would last longer. Each injury would hurt worse. Cuts would be deeper. Until finally Superhero had been called away by another superhero in the midst of one of their tempers and had left their cell unlocked.
Their mentor— their friend— had betrayed them… All because they wanted to uphold their integrity. The superheroes integrity. All because they didn’t want to see innocent people perish all because they were ‘annoying’. The superhero they had previously trusted with their life in battle had turned against them at the drop of a hat.
Villain watched as something passed through Hero’s eyes. They might have been looking at them, but it was like they were seeing something else entirely. They were looking right through them. At what Villain was assumed was a memory.
”Hero?” They called gently, not wanting to startle them. They must have anyway, however, because Hero jumped and threw their hands up in defense before slowly realizing where they were and who they were with, lowering their arms again as their eyes cleared from the haze of memories.
”I’ll take that as a yes, then…” Villain chuckled, answering their own question, though they felt no actual joy. Superhero had done this to Hero. Their own mentor. Their superior.
They’d always had an inkling that all the superheroes had no actual morals and that they were just out chasing glory. But now they had clear evidence. Proof. Sitting right in front of them, broken and beaten. And it was worse than they hoped.
”Sorry,” Hero said in a small voice, looking more like a beaten puppy than the usually strong, confident, quick witted hero they were used to seeing.
”Some of your injuries looked older. Some bruising was already healing too.”
”Yeah.”
”It wasn’t the first time they beat you.” It wasn’t a question, but Hero nodded anyway.
”Yeah. they had me locked away for a bit.”
”Locked away? They really are a coward.” Hero laughed and then grimaced.
“I’ll help you.”
Hero looked up at Villian, shocked by their sudden outburst.
“With my ribs?”
”With stopping the superheroes. I’ll help you. We’ll stop them once and for all.”
“How—”
”We’ll figure something out.”
Hero looked down at their knees, thinking for a bit. Then they nodded in agreement. Villain nodded definitively back as well, sealing their unlikely partnership.
”Let’s get your bones back to being straight. Or… almost straight..”
Hero smiled.
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blackhistorystoryteller · 2 years ago
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The black culture is not all about slavery
This is a message for my black brothers and sisters
There are more than 100 gods, both small and big, in Igbo Culture, but for some reason, most people don't know anything about them, except probably for one.I think colonialism and the entrance of Christianity are to blame because they made us forget our roots as Africans. But that's a narrative we must work hard to change.Out of the over 100 gods we have, I will be talking about the nine strongest and most popular Igbo gods (Alusi)
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also known as ani, ana & ale in numerous dialects, is a female god representing the earth, fertility, creativity, and morality. She is the most respected god in Igboland.
She is considered the wife of Amadioha, the skygod, and commands authority in Igbo land. The symbol of the ala is a python & crescent moon
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This is the most popular god in Igboland, and he is the god of thunder & lightning. He is the strongest of all.He is considered a gentleman among the deities and the cruelest when annoyed.Amadioha represents the collective will of the people. A white ram represents him, and his color is red. He is still one of the most feared gods in Igbo land to this day.His shrine can be found in rivers state, Nigeria.
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This is the god of strength and war, as its name means "place of strength." It is a horned deity and is one of the most powerful and respected gods in Igboland.The Ikenga can is given a title to men of good reputation, wealth, and integrity.
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This is the god of health and divination. This god is one of the basic theological concepts used to explain good and evil, health and sickness, poverty, and wealth in Igbo land.Belief in the deity was widespread, with most villages having some agwu priests, who also doubled as physicians in the land.
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This is the goddess of the sun. As is done in almost all ancient religions and traditions, there is always a deity in respect of the sun.It is revered as the goddess that promotes productivity, hard work, and the overall positive well-being of the people.The Igbo kept this deity in high esteem. That's why many households took the name to be their surname.
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This is the guardian deity of yam in Igboland. (Yes, yams 😂)In many parts of Igbo land, people did rituals in honor of the goddess of yams, known as ifejioku.She is prayed to for productivity during the farming season.Children who were dedicated to this goddess were called Njoku and were expected to be prosperous in life
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The goddess of the ocean & the seas. It is believed to have found the Idemmili community in Anambra state.Its shrine can be found in that community and is one of the oldest shrines in Igbo land.It is a secret shine & the worship of pythons (eke) goes on there. Hence the killing of pythons in that area is forbidden.
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I don't think this list will be complete without a god of death.Meaning "the one that kills at night," he is known as the death deity.His victims are said to be criminals and those who have committed abominations in the land, and he is known to kill violently.
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koco-coko · 1 year ago
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A World of Color | Ikevil Fic
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Tags; Fluff, Found Family, Painting Nails, Slice of Life
Characters: William Rex + Lacie Monet (OC) (NOT SHIP), all of Crown briefly
Word Count; 2279 (6 pages)
a/n; i love found family dynamics and crown is the most dysfunctional found family in existence
i think they might like this: @natimiles @olivermorningstar @leia-skywalker-organa
thanks @natimiles for the headers/dividers
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The garden was always peaceful. A sanctuary of flowers and nature that even the cruelest of men deemed quiet enough to wander around without trampling rosebuds and honeysuckles. Perhaps it was an escape from evil, or perhaps the beauty was its neutrality. Hero and villain alike could admire the lily pads and tadpoles in the point.
Under the shade of the gazebo were two such antagonists. Lord William Rex, an arrogant, self-righteous villain wearing a cape as red as blood, and… A little girl. A short thing wearing a cotton, purple dress and a blindfold over unseeing eyes, with pale blonde hair that cascaded down her back into long, twin braids. The girl’s shoes had long been discarded to a shadowy corner of the gazebo. 
Despite their differences, the pair sat at a tea table as complete equals. In fact, the self-righteous monarch held the little girl’s hand, gently applying a coat of paint to her fingernails. 
Lacie squirmed. “It’s cold,” she whispered. “Are you done yet? What color is it?”
William smiled. “This is only the first layer, dear,” he explained, “It’s called the base coat.”
“And then we add the color?” Lacie said excitedly, her free hand eagerly searching for a platter of cookies. She moved around carefully and slowly so as to not knock over the chilled tea in cups that were nearby. William let her hunt the table. He had learned a long while ago that helping the girl would only cause her to huff and pout about her own competency. “What color is it going to be?”
“I’m not sure,” he grinned amicably, “Is there a color you wish for?”
“Will,” Lacie responded, wryly. “I’m blind.”
“I know,” he stayed with a tranquil smile as he reached for her other hand. “I was simply curious about what you would say. You’ve yet to tell me why you want your nails painted so badly, even though you won’t be able to see them.”
Lacie rolled her eyes. William couldn’t see that due to her blindfold, of course, but the little girl had to add a dramatic flair to every action. With an embarrassed little huff, she murmured: “Because I felt your nails and thought we could match…” William knew not to comment, since Lacie would only go on a tirade about how no, she did not think he was mysterious and cool at all! It was just curiosity! Just that alone! And she certainly didn’t want to spend time with him whatsoever! “What color are your nails?”
“I usually paint mine red,” William hummed. Lacie perked up slightly. Finished with the clear and shiny coat of polish, William put the brush away and inspected his work with keen eyes. Any error would have to be viewed and corrected by him, after all. “Occasionally black. I’ve been told it compliments my eyes.”
“What color are your eyes?” Lacie continued questioning. The brief question of children and their neverending curiosity flashed in Lord Rex’s mind. 
“Red,” he stated simply.
Lacie didn’t appear too thrilled by his response. A small pout came to her cheeks. She wanted to say something, but she figured she’d only get a response along the lines: “you’re the one who asked, aren’t you?” She simply hummed with dissatisfaction.
“Perhaps we should approach the problem differently,” William started once he was satisfied with the precise painting of Lacie’s nails. “I’ve always wondered how you perceive colors. Some say that certain colors can make us feel different emotions, and I’m curious if you experience something similar to that.”
Lacie was quiet for a long moment, her brows knit in deep thought. William said nothing, sipping from his teacup while he awaited her words. While in silence, a hummingbird breezed by the gazebo. Breaking her thought-train, Lacie quickly told the bird she couldn’t play, she had to concentrate! It understood her immediately, bowing its head in apologies and zooming off to a different flower patch. A perk of her curse, she supposed. 
“Color is…” Lacie mumbled before she spoke fully. “Honestly? I’ve never really cared about color much, so I haven’t really thought about what they mean to me.”
William tilted his head. “A few moments ago you were begging to know what color I’d paint your nails.” He already knew the answer, but he knew Lacie loved the sound of her own voice. 
“I’m interested in it now, obviously. And I don’t want you to pull a prank on me and make it something ugly! I know Jude would.”
“Of course, my mistake,” he laughed, “I give you my word that you’ll have the prettiest nails in London.”
Lacie huffed, bringing her chin up. “Second prettiest. I don’t want Elbie trying to rip my fingers out.”
William nodded, taking a bite of one of the strawberries in a bowl nearby. “What a clever girl you are.”
“I know,” Lacie giggled. “What were we– Oh! Color! Yes, hm… I think color is more so an experience than it is a feeling. It also depends on how the word sounds, too. Does that make sense?”
William glanced over the vials of paint and compared each to Lacie’s figure, only to push them aside a moment later and give the girl his full attention. “If you explain it to me, I’m sure it will.”
Oh, Lacie did love talking, didn’t she? Especially when it was about something she knew and the other didn’t. It wasn’t often at Crown she got to be the one who knew things and would be listened to. Unbeknownst to her, a large smile curved onto her face. William’s eyes thinned with pleasure in return. “Give me some colors, then!”
William didn’t waste a moment. “Black and red.”
“Oh, black is very simple,” she said, leaning back in her chair. “I’ve heard people call it scary, but whenever I hear it, I think of something warm and comfortable. Like a fireplace, or a big bed with lots of blankets and clean sheets! Very enveloping, as well.”
William tapped his chin. “I suppose that does make sense. You and Victor are quite close.”
“Does Victor wear a lot of black?” Lacie asked. Unable to keep still, she kicked her feet back and forth while she leaned on the table. One again, she reached for another dessert and devoured it in seconds. 
“Quite,” William said, before continuing to amuse the girl. “Is the evening black as well?”
“No, not at all! Nighttime is very green, actually. But black is very cozy and dark, like the night, so I see the confusion,” she stated. “Oh! You asked about red, right? Well, I think red is very unique. It’s bright, but sort of diluted. Blood is red, right?”
“Correct.”
“Right. So, taking that into account, I believe red is very lively and exciting! Every living thing has blood, I think, so it’s a sign of life. I’d say Liam and Alfons are very, very red.” Lacie’s grin only spread wider as she kept talking.
And Lord Rex, clad in black and red, was more than pleased to know she had such a vibrant view of his wardrobe. “And what about purple? You’re wearing a purple dress right now.”
“Oh, purple is very mysterious, but also cold. Like deep in the ocean,” the child explained with joy, “Fish are purple.”
“All fish?”
“All of them. Except dolphins– those are orange. Also, purple is very smoky. I don’t think smoke itself is purple, but the smell is purple. I don’t like smoke, but I don’t think it smells too bad after the fact.”
“Jude wears a purple coat,” William said. “And he smokes quite often. Does that–”
“Ew!” Lacie shrieked, “I take back everything I just said.”
William let out a hearty laugh. “Alright, I’ve already forgotten.”
“Good. Now, I think…” Lacie hummed a short tune. “You said your nails are red, right?” 
“Indeed I did,” he said, “Your memory is incredibly sharp.”
Lacie blushed, “Thanks.” She coughed to make her red face go down. “I want red nails then!”
“It will be done,” William said. “Do you have any recommendations for how I should paint my nails?”
With that, Lacie gasped. “Oh! Can I paint your nails?” she said, her feet swinging back and forth wildly. William stilled, looking over the bottles of nail polish, then at the girl’s blindfold. “I’ll paint them pink and blue! Remember how I said Liam and Alfons are very red? I think you’re pink. You and Harrison are pink. And Ellis! Very polite and whimsical, but also very weird. Flowers and trees are pink, as well,” she explained, before catching her breath once more. “Or blue! ‘Cuz blue’s a scary color, like brown. I think Roger is very blue. Dark blue; very mature and serious and scary. Roger and also books are blue. Oh! What about both? And black! Black suits you, too, I think.”
“Let me finish your nails first,” William responded, “And then I will trust my hands to you.” William couldn’t help but feel brightened as Lacie ranted on and on about how she perceived the world without her sight. The blind little girl did not live in a dark void; no! Quite the opposite! In fact, she existed in a loud cacophony of sounds, feelings, sensations, that all were painted with bright ideas! Paper was yellow, grass was magenta, the sound of birds chirping was a bright mauve, the creaking of wood was a homely orange, a kiss on the cheek was teal. People weren’t only one color either, he came to learn, by a stained glass painting of thousands of different tastes and sounds that changed whenever sunlight hit them.
Once Lacie’s nails had been dyed that same blood red William favored so, he gave his hand to Lacie and guided her through the same steps. Lacie wore an enormous grin throughout. Sure, she was blind, but she could still feel the soft skin of his hands. She ran her thumb along each of his fingers to find out where his nails were, then brushed over the keratin slowly. She bit her lip as she concentrated, and William didn’t feel the need to correct her.
“Here, this color–” she whispered, dipping it into one of the paint vials. Letting go of William’s hand for a brief moment, she felt around. The textures of each object used to mark colors were specific, so as to let Lacie recognize the corresponding colors. Cookie, teacup, strawberry, a petal. Hm, decisions, decisions…She reached behind the teacup and gently took one of the vials. “This is pink, right?” 
“Indeed,” William said.
Then, Lacie dipped the brush into the paint and took his hand. She ran her thumb over each finger, stopping at his middle. “I painted your thumb and index already…” she mumbled to herself, then quickly felt the fingers beside it. “Four, five– Yes!” While she didn’t pat herself on the back, she did bite her lip to try and hide her ever-growing smile.
The day breezed by easily, and soon enough night had fallen over London. Crown gathered in the dining hall– a sinister meeting of villains, planning dastardly schemes and… 
“What the fuck is on your hands?” Jude spat, stabbing the food on his plate with no remorse. Poor rabbit… “Did a rainbow vomit on ya?”
William hummed, sweet and innocently, looking down at his free hand, then the one that Lacie held onto. “What? I’ve had my nails painted since we met.”
Victor raised his eyes from his food, his eyes twinkling as he saw the state of the self-righteous tyrant. “William! My, what a… unique and colorful form of self-expression!” The rest of the table turned their attention to the pair, all with different levels of surprise. A few eager, some confused, others terrified.
William’s entire hand and wrist had been stroked with thousands of different colors, all overlapping each other, never in a straight line, with only a few spots actual skin managed to break free. Some places had already crusted and flaked off due to the bending and twisting of his fingers and wrist. On his cheek, in baby pink, was a sloppy heart (or maybe a lumpy circle? a peach?). While his hands looked like a used artist’s palette, his nails were, indeed, bright pink. “Lacie and I did each other’s nails over tea this afternoon,” he explained plainly. Lacie beamed at the rest of Crown as she showed off her expertly done red nails, despite her thumb’s polish already being visibly picked at. The little girl wore a similar painted heart on her cheek in dark purple, although her's was leagues more neat than William's.
Liam’s face lit up like a firework. “Wow! Lacie, we should do each other’s nails sometime, too! That’d be fun.”
“Perhaps I’ll join you,” Alfons chimed in, adjusting his gloves briefly. “We can make it a Crown-bonding activity! 
Roger chuckled and shook his head. Elbert shrunk back into his seat. Jude scoffed loudly, “Leave me outta it. I ain’t letting that brat near me with any kind of paint.”
Ellis ignored his boss’s remarks, smiling gently as he sipped from his cup. “You two look happy.”
Lacie shrugged in response to Ellis as she took her seat besides Victor. “You’re all just jealous that I’m such a good nail-painter! William said it himself!” Harrison thinned his eyes but refrained from comment. “Victor, can I do your nails next?”
Victor ruffled Lacie’s hair with enthusiasm. “Of course! I’d be delighted to have our littlest villain do my nails! What color should I wear?”
Lacie hummed and swung her feet back and forth, wearing a knowing smile as she felt William’s gaze on her. “I’ve been told you wear a lot of black, but I think you’d look great in blue.”
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solarpunkpresentspodcast · 1 year ago
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There Is No Perfect System
There’s no dipping one’s toe into the solarpunk stream without noticing that although not all solarpunks are anarchists, there is a strong sense in solarpunk that we won’t be living happily, freely, and sustainably until we dismantle both capitalism and the state.
Ah, but if only it was only capitalism that is capable of social and environmental savagery. And, hey, hang on a second. It’s not as if even democracies can only be stifling and oppressive.
I will admit that for decades I too have dreamed of living in a society where we didn’t need the police, prisons, or laws because we all just voluntarily treat each other decently and all personally make sure to commit no crimes against the environment. But the older me has become skeptical that such a systemless system could ever work. Are we going to ship all the people who can’t play well with others to Mars? Look at how much trouble we’re having already, especially now that so many people (and politicians) have figured out that they can pretty much get away with murder by ignoring the social norms that keep society functioning by filling in the gaps in between the laws.
I’m 100% with you when you say that capitalism has been terrible for people and the planet. The less carefully regulated capitalism is, the more it is a race to the bottom where 15 people on Earth have all the money, the natural world has given way to soy bean fields, palm oil plantations, and toxic garbage dumps, and the rest of us are living in misery and vastly reduced life expectancy in hovels or in prison.
But—honest question—is there a better alternative?
Communism, as it was practiced in the 20th century, was also terrible for the environment. Often egregiously so. My better half grew up in East Germany and it’s tons less polluted now than it was under communist authoritarianism when, honestly, nobody cared one bit about the damage they were doing to people or nature even when they weren’t under pressure to make profit. Today, under capitalism in a still at least somewhat social democracy, there are rules and investment directed at preventing, among other things, factories and powerplants from dumping their waste or sending it unfiltered out through their chimneys.
As much as it’s easy and not far off the mark to rail against the evils of capitalism, it actually isn’t capitalism—or communism or any other -ism—that treats the environment as nothing more than a repository of resources for human use. It’s the people operating within the framework of capitalism (etc)—or at least a pretty good chunk of them. And if that is the case, why should we expect that anarchism and its lack of a state will magically delivery us from the human selfishness, laziness, shortsightedness, and greed that lies at the root of the cruelest, most unjust, most environmentally damaging, and most unsustainable aspects of capitalism?
No matter what, we will never escape ourselves. Wherever we go, there we still will be at the heart of any system we use to order ourselves and our economies.
It is as my friend Don, the now retired librarian that I talked to in Season 2, Episode 2 of the podcast, was telling me the other day. It’s comforting to think that we just need to set up the perfect system and then everything will be utopian. But there is no perfect system because systems are created and administered by people and every single one of us is flawed. We are all to some degree—although some of us to more degrees than others—clever but stupid, short–sighted but wise, fair but unfair, greedy but generous, hard working but lazy, clear thinking but delusional, and honest but mendacious.
So why are we dreaming of the day that we finally have a perfect system when instead we should be working on ourselves and how we work together to get things done?
This isn’t to say that some systems aren’t worse than others. I mean, who wants anything as lacking in counterbalancing measures as monarchies, repressive authoritarian regimes, or dictatorships?
In the name of the sensible aspects of solarpunk, let’s work with what we have on hand: the the democracies that, at least as of the time of this writing, we still have. Let’s put our dreams of anarchistic perfection on the back burner and get down to the very real, very urgently needed work of shoring up our democracies against the corrosive attacks undermining them.
I don’t know about you, but given the upcoming elections and all the hatred people seem to have for each other, for the first time in my entire life, I’m worried about what the near future will be like. And I feel like that by the time we all take to the streets to rail against the rise in authoritarianism, it may already be too late.
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paragonrobits · 8 months ago
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one thing i see in the 40k fandom now and then is the desire for more representation or people who reflect the viewer base and i'm forced to ask myself 'okay, i get that but why do you want the Turbo Space Fascist faction that consistent of genocidal imperialists whose main political goal is sacrificing themselves for a rotting corpse that in life was the cruelest and most callous dictator to ever exist'
its one of the reasons that the Imperium is, as a faction AND setting, kind of hostile towards any kind of positive representation you might expect to see; not in the sense of people like you existing, but in the sense of the faction ITSELF being incredibly pure evil and generally not seen as evil as it really is because we mostly get a massive dose of being expected to empathize with them because they're human, and arguably the only reason they're not objectively seen as even worse than the Dark Eldar is that the on-screen torture isn't AS explicit and its probably not as sexually driven but it IS present
when you get down to it, the imperium of a faction of monsters and slaves who want to murder everyone else in the universe or kill them all and die in the attempt purely out of spite, and even its heroes must be acknowledged with the proviso that they might be heroes but they're STILL imperium loyalists with points like 'Vulkan is the most compassionate human in the setting because any Imperial would also burn a surrendering Eldar child alive without hesitation, but only Vulkan is human enough to regret it and be aware its a bad thing', and wanting representation in people that horrifiyingly evil that, to me, the only sane response to 'humanity must do these things to survive' is 'then humanity ought to die, immediateely, because it doesn't deserve to exist if THAT is the cost of its survival'
like. you could probably houserule some kind of splinter faction to use Imperium playing rules but make up lore to have them be more moral and technically renegades but if you're going to approach it from a moral direction, why exactly do you want representation from the genocidal space fascists who unironically say things like 'THE LOYAL SLAVE LOVES THE LASH'
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lightdancer1 · 6 months ago
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One of my favorite ironies of the Buffy fandom going back to the OG forums:
Is that while the show explicitly goes out of its way even then to show that putting Tara on a pedestal and reducing her worth to the relationships around her was literally wrong and an evil demon cult thing was the people doing that, the fanbase has done this the entire time. It's one thing with Willow even when this is literally the reason at both a Watsonian and a Doylist level that the relationship was at minimum going to be sailing full speed into shallow rocky waters.
That, at least, is a case of misguided blends of enthusiasm and that the relationship and the show had that particular bit of its contribution to history and culture precisely from it, which leads people to reflexively defend and extend things from inertia when all things change and we change with them. Even then it is still the healthiest relationship on the show....because all the others, even Willow's with Oz and Kennedy, fail to exceed the bars it set. Everything else is worse more than it is good, to put it simplest.
But the irony there in how much Tara's arc ultimately hinges around her worth being in direct proportion to her being a relationship trophy for Willow, Buffy, or Faith (and back in ye olde days sometimes for Spike, for some bizarre reason, or Xander for predictable but sad ones) is that it is literally the mistake that drives her and Willow both off a cliff in universe.
If she had been asked this in Seasons 4 and 5 she might have agreed with it, not growing out of it was how and why things went badly in Season 6. Leaving her to stay dead from 7 onward meant that her growth arc and Willow's were left half-finished and she never got to complete her own and to re-establish a relationship on her own, better terms. Nor did Willow, who escaped by the cruelest means accountability to her worst deeds with the person she most needed to show it to.
And yet the fandom literally misses the point that even the toxic misogynistic bully Joss Whedon wrote and these are the people who consider themselves Tara's fans when they're more like the Season 6 Willow who rewrote her memories or her family in-universe than the kind of fans she'd actually deserve.
Media illiteracy is unfortunately a lot older than people wish to think, social media might have worsened it but it's been there a very long tim.
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guessthatrec-poll · 1 month ago
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........ I have the most evil guess in the world for #73 ....... what if it's Genshin Impact.
(the "diverse cultures and nationalities" would of course be the cruelest way to describe Genshin Impact considering the game is somewhat infamous for its repeated racism and sensationalization of culture. and yet chillingly accurate for a bad rec.)
Guess noted!
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adamwatchesmovies · 1 year ago
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Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga (2024)
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Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga proves the wasteland has plenty more stories to offer. Is it on the same level as Mad Max: Fury Road? No, but keep in mind that Fury Road is one of the greatest action movies ever made. Even The Road Warrior doesn’t reach its ferocity or pulse-pounding excitement. What this prequel spinoff has are outstanding action scenes, gorgeous cinematography, a rich world you love to explore and loads of memorable characters.
In a post-apocalyptic Australia, Furiosa (played by Alyla Browne as a child and teenager) is taken from her home by the Biker Horde, led by Dementus (Chris Hemsworth). Given to Immortan Joe (Lachy Hulme) in a trade, Furiosa (played by Anya Taylor-Joy as an adult) remains determined to make her way home. To do this, she must make herself useful enough to be trusted with the resources she’ll need to survive the wasteland.
The standout in Furiosa is absolutely Chris Hemsworth as Dementus. We’ve seen evil people in this franchise, but he’s the cruelest and most bug-nuts so far. The thing is, Hemsworth is so charismatic and Dementus is so adept at navigating this world you find yourself admiring the character. Through the story’s five chapters, he’s constantly finding ways to increase his army, resources and influence. The more power he accumulates, the more dangerous he becomes. It’s like he knows he wants to be in charge, but not why, or what to do once he is, which leads to more chaos and destruction. You're never sure if he’s as mad as he seems, or if he’s putting on a show to mock this new world. Maybe it’s that he’s fully embraced the wasteland and wants it to remain as lawless and savage as it is now, so he’s determined to keep tearing it down. Maybe he was always like this but civilization kept him in check. What makes him so dangerous is that beneath the madness, there’s logic and cunning that reminds you of Heath Ledger’s Joker. You're not sure if even Dementus is prepared to deal with Dementus.
We got a pretty good look at this world in Fury Road but the film was constantly putting more distance between the protagonists and the Citadel. Furiosa, by contrast, allows us to sit and see the inner workings. The closeups we get help us understand but they don’t bring any comfort. This is a dreadful world dominated by violence. On the upside, that carnage sure is cinematic. What’s amazing is that we’ve seen vehicular destruction four times from George Miller and he still manages to bring some new ideas to the table. As I was watching our heroine fend off The Octoboss (Goran D. Kleut, playing a character whose name is as ridiculous as it is awesome) and his Mortiflyers, admiring the way it’s shot and the constant back-and-forth as the casualties rise, I suddenly realized how long this battle has been going on. There are few movies doing action on this franchise's level.
You’d think that by being a prequel, much of Furiosa would be predictable but the screenplay by Miller and Nico Lathouris repeatedly uses your expectations to surprise you. You know that Furiosa is, at some point, going to lose her left arm. You know because she wears a mechanical arm in Fury Road and because she’s got a map to her home tattooed on it. Dementus wants that map. We know Furiosa will do anything to keep it out of his hands. Does that mean she will eventually sacrifice her arm to keep it away from him? Is Dementus going to forcibly take it, giving our heroine another reason to seek revenge from him? Will she simply lose it during a violent attack? You don’t know and frequently, you think “This is it!”, only for the picture to prove you wrong.
The always-reliable Anya Taylor-Joy does so much with her character’s limited dialogue and handles the action scenes exceptionally well but if we spend time on her, we won’t have time to talk about the side characters, my favorite of which is Praetorian Jack (Tom Burke). Can he get a spinoff movie too? He's so effortlessly cool. How about the multitude of loonies accompanying Dementus, like that guy with the one eye, or the lady whose face is all messed up? What I love about this film is that it even makes characters out of vehicles. Like, you’ll see this cobbled-together monstrosity and realize you've seen it before. Now, it's got new pieces welded onto it, or a new driver and you can tell that inanimate object has its own story it could tell.
Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga is packed with so much story, worldbuilding, action and memorable scenes you don’t even feel the 148-minute pass by. In fact, when it reached the Chapter Three mark, I thought to myself “Already? We can’t be close to halfway done… not yet!” I can't wait to see it again. (Theatrical version on the big screen, June 4, 2024)
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supercomputer-lizard · 1 year ago
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why I find Daurgothoth funny
Who/what is Daurgothoth:
Daurgothoth is a dracolich in dnd, he was the only cr (challenge rating) 50 creature in dnd 3.5e, for reference the tarrasque, the strongest creature in dnd 5e, is cr 30. He was originally a black dragon before becoming a dracolich and he lives in Dolblunde and an abandoned gnome city that is northeast of Waterdeep and wants to become the most powerful being of magic in the whole world. Since he was a black dragon he can breathe acid, but he learned to use the breath weapons of other chromatic dragon types. He is a level 20 sorcerer and a level 20 wizard with the arch mage subtype and has 9 spell slots. He is under the protection of Mystra, the goddess of magic, since he advances magic and many of the followers of Mystra are some of the most powerful heroes alive and they can’t do anything about him. Unlike other dracolichs who are under the control of the Cult of the Dragon, since that is only way for dragons to become dracolichs, he just manipulated the ritual and killed the guys there.
Why he is funny:
Being on of the most powerful being in existence and being aligned with evil, you would expect him to be a plotting mastermind that wants to bring the world to its knees, but no, he is just a nerd. He has the power to destroy entire kingdoms, but he just lives next to Waterdeep and yeah, he does control most of the criminal organizations in several cities, but he really isn’t that evil. You would think that since he was a black dragon, the cruelest dragons in dnd, he would sadistic and murderous, but he just likes magic. He also only leaves his house to listen to pretty bards sing, it has gotten to the point where bards are warned that if they preform to a single audience in Daurgothoth’s area code, they are either preforming to lycanthropes, a travelers or to Daurgothoth in disguise. My guy also wants to create another type of dragon with his powers.
In conclusion:
Daurgothoth wants to start a family, become the strongest being of magic in the world and is the biggest nerd in dnd. Not many people can do anything about him because him being a massive nerd got a god to protect from many people killing him
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daisypreaker · 1 year ago
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random thought that occured to me in the middle of the night after reading chapter eleven of tgowarl, but no matter how loving amara's parents may have been when they actually did give her attention, it truly is the cruelest thing to be subjected to their happiness - when, as even amara says, its such a rare thing to procure for oneself in the world :(( i know im stating the obvious and that was likely the point for the reader to understand, but it truly does explain her rebellious streak perfectly. they unintentionally made their child feel alienated, like she were peering at them through a window - into their a warm house, while she froze to death outside enduring the blizzardous winter. apart from the blatant neglect, it's the worse thing they could've inflicted upon her as a child (among the lesser evils).
it's quite pitiful... how she grew up viewing her own parents relationship as the golden example of love. a love so pure, it's become selfish in it's pursuit.
don't get me wrong, im sure we can all agree in unison that amara generally does not have the wisest taste in her choice of partners, far from it - but the image of her parents taunting her by comparison at the back of her mind most certainly would not help in encouraging amara to make better decisions. just feeds into this hopeless belief that happiness is unattainable because amara's highest standard to reference from is her own parent's relationship, which would probably make any other relationship seem dull. i suppose that's why the next best thing for amara is that all consuming love? because if she managed to enter a relatively healthy relationship, it still wouldn't be like her parents relationship. the kind of love that grants blissful ignorance to everything else. it'd fulfill a role, but overall amara would be empty imo. where as if she's indulging her 'type', even if she's ashamed of herself because 'there can only be so many mistakes' one can allow themselves to make, horribly enough... at least it'd satisfy her. its a very.. bad, self destructive mentality of course - but if nothing else will ever compare, might as well do what provides you the most satisfaction right?
okay sorry for the rather long ramble, it just became a sudden hyperfixation to me since i love nuance in psychology like that ^^
*instils voice with the sheer tenderness of Colin Farrell's Irish lilt* Oh I absolutely fucking adore this ask.
I'm so, so happy someone mentioned the parents thing, because I wrote this part of her background specifically with the hope that people would mention and comment on it (and you did!! YAY!!!)
Emotionally immature parents can go so many different ways. A lot of the time, they fail to understand or accept their mistakes because their view of the past is tinted with rose-lens. That in itself is painful for the child. I imagine at some point, Amara accused them of some of the things she complained to Aegon about, and got blank stares. They unintentionally gaslighted her by saying but baby you were happy, we remember you were, don't you remember this day when we went to that one place and you were so happy? Neglectful parents often point out things they did for you that they specifically recall because it was out of the ordinary for them to do. Rather than realise that their moments of attention were so few and far between that now even the smallest of them becomes a huge gold star for their "efforts", they think the child is remembering wrong.
If her dad beat her, or her mother snapped at her, I think Amara would cut herself off from the emotionally a lot easier. But instead, what she did was mature a lot quicker, but then become their emotional support child. She hid all her troubles the way parents should hide from their children. She turned them into the vulnerable party who needed protection; maybe if she hadn't, they might have soldiered up quicker. But she was a kid and she made a judgement and they just weren't attentive enough to realise that she had.
And then as you said, the golden ideal of their relationship becomes her aim. But since she's a child, failure hits her harder. She hasn't yet learned that you make mistakes and keep going. So when she realises her first relationship is failing, and it isn't the true love her parents share, she stays in it almost as if to punish herself for it. She can't match up to her parents, so she's just a piece of shit that deserves to suffer until something magically 'clicks' and she'll be better.
She's definitely afraid of prioritising Aegon over Jaehaera for fear of Jae ending up like her (and with plenty of people in the Keep ready to take advantage of a royal, there's dangers for Jaehaera that Amara herself can't predict but knows are coming).
But onto the subject of the way her parents raised her and how it correlates with Aegon.
So far, what she seems to seek out in her romantic partners (and her friends) is a parent. Mirian is very maternal. Alys is obviously older, and definitely a dominating force (Amara bowed fast under the way Alys patronises her which is lowkey hot but I digress). She would also make friends in KL who were much older and more worldly, for instance prostitutes, pimps, sailors, guards, you name it.
And then you have Aegon. The father of the realm, the ultimate symbol of paternalism, but suddenly she's his jester. She obviously has to obey him, but she also gets to point out his flaws and turn them into comedy that he'll laugh about. She refused to see the flaws in her own parents until it got to a point where her body and mind were unable to take the pain.
But with Aegon, this new parental ideal, she's cutting at his flaws from the start. That ruins the fantasy of 'replacement father'. If she was just a servant at court, she'd be obedient, she'd probably even respect him from a distance because of everything he's been through. Amara never wanted or meant to be his jester. It happened because he wanted it to happen.
And then suddenly, for the first time in her life, there's someone who's paying attention to her the way her parents should have, but who goes way overboard with it. She chafes at the bindings because she's accustomed to protecting herself, but at the same time, hates admitting how good it can feel. The more she finds herself sinking into it, into becoming the little girl who just needs someone to protect her and make the decisions for her, the guiltier she gets over what might happen if Jaehaera goes ignored. The princess is going to be well-protected in the castle - she won't run loose in the streets of KL like Amara did, so it'd be easy to just let her be cared for by others.
Amara herself is at risk of being an emotionally immature parent now because her needs as a child are still waiting to be fulfilled, but she's forcing herself to become the mother she never had for Jaehaera at the same time. And if she fails at this, she's going to hate herself.
It's a huge, huge psychological mess for a 23 year old honestly. Imagine discovering you view your potential lover as a replacement dad, whilst fully knowing he was a neglected child himself and can't fulfil that role properly, and THEN you both have a daughter as the cycle threatens to repeat.
Okay, I have a lot of thoughts still, but I think I rambled wayyyy too much in answer to your lovely ramble, nonnie, so I'm going to stop here.
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exozero · 5 months ago
Text
the more i write the more i hope no one is reading
I do so love melodrama on screen. I wish I'd come to it before. If I had, I'd have known how carried along some people allow themselves to be, how absolute they allow their judgements upon others to be. Watching In the Mood for Love stirred a sort of awareness I thought I'd lost years ago, suddenly I was able to consider the emotionally torturous aspects of my life without outright bias against my own perspective. It was the only safe way to consider anything, I thought, and, encouraged by a crippling anxiety a blank face helps to mask, the only way to ensure my being, ego, vain and selfish and cruel as I tend to think I am, hadn't overrun my ability to reason. The only way to be sure of a conclusion, or at least to be sure that you don't risk damaging others due to faulty logic, is to assume your own perspective is inherently, utterly, ontologically evil, every possible thought you have and action you've taken necessarily interpreted in the cruelest way possible. There is only one fact: I am bad. The rest is malleable.
Without that bias, though I'm nowhere near free of it, I began to see subtle wrongs which had been done. A woman says I was controlling, that I crossed boundaries and in a manner that speaks to something deeper and crueler about me. Instinctively, at the time, still trapped within myself, I'd agreed. But now? Walking out of that movie I'm sure she adores, I couldn't help but think of how she'd treated me, for once. How my action crossed a boundary, which is of course not made suddenly 'okay', but that it had been while we had been touching one another, and discussing going into the bathroom to fuck. Finally, something I'd felt so much guilt about, taken in context. There's clarity there. Maybe some comfort. Certainly not something to have so many sleepless nights over, as I have had. Then ideas about my character, not wholly unjustified, but the evidence... flimsy. Am I egotistical? Hard to argue with, but the evidence of that outsized ego was a faux pas or two, and then the gall to check with her before going to an event she may be at, in the hopes that that would normalize relations. So we interpret the world differently — still not evil. Not that she said I was, it was me saying all that junk. It's just odd. Human and, taken in context, from the perspective of someone who is reinterpreting an abortion of a relationship mostly defined by its utterly disappointing arc, understandable. To not take the words of someone in such a position as the absolute, inviolable gospel, is a fresh discovery. When I've brought this up to friends they all seem to take a lower opinion of me, they all learned this truth in high school, and the fallout of such events, like the breakups I've had in the last year, seem to torture them a normal, even healthy amount.
But I am also different from them, the women I date often reflecting my anxieties, neuroses. There is cruelty in the women I love and I love them for it, not despite it, same as their intelligence, and these qualities make for a painful opponent to face in the wasteland which comes "after." I hadn't realized we were opponents. Comrades in heartbreak at most, at least mostly-friendly partners in a minor emotional shrug she'll think of once a month at most in a few years, then less and less often until I fade like any other corpse... until she sees my face on the news one day: "Creature caught hiding thousands of pounds of fertilizer in the foundations of buildings during their construction, in the hopes that many years later an explosion might be set off with only a sledgehammer and a match. He is refusing to say how many buildings he's already gotten to." Not a bad plot for James Patterson's ghostwriter.
I saw her on a train platform, and once again I think somewhere else, not sure, and it never seems to surprise me. She seemed startled, embarrassed maybe, while I felt, as I usually do, not quite all there. Not enough of me in one place to have a reaction until long afterwards. Each time I see her I happen to have already been thinking about her. The time on the platform had been just after the movie, pretty sure. I wondered if she found it useful to categorize me as abusive, or perhaps mean or cruel. I'm not sure, I'd hope not, for reasons of ego as much as truth, but whatever someone finds useful in their lives I find myself loath to oppose in any measure. The patterns of pain which can arise when one is trying to appeal to another have become clear to me, in no small part due to her note, though in truth rather despite it. Through her interpretation of her experience, though it's not where I need to be searching for an accurate diagnoses of my psychology, I was able to find something important and weak in myself. That same desperation to appeal which drove me to live and then write what I have about a plain desire to eat pussy, appeal to woman a certain way, be useful, etc., is no different from what drove me to appeal to her in the ways I thought she wanted, the same dominance which I had no real interest in at the time, summoned up for what I hoped was her benefit, clearly blinding me to the truth of her, poor girl. It's a silly little game all the way down, too bad real people are playing it.
I spend most of my time now eating better and better, working, healing up, slathering myself in aquaphor, doing pull-ups and thinking of these figures that no longer have such unimpeachable perspectives in my mind. It's freeing to consider myself worthy of not giving each person with any issue with me a bully pulpit within me to forever destroy me from. Also quite unfair to them, not like she sought to ruin me, only to establish her own records, hold her own rituals for her own truths, a byproduct in me might be desired, but I can tell she's not evil, so I'm sure the true effect would not be something she'd have cheered for. So why should I?
I wonder if she thinks it's necessary? Is it a survival mechanism? Has it helped? I wonder if she'd consider it a mark of strength, or weakness? Was thinking to ask her that if we met up. I wonder if that'll change in twenty years. It's a hard world, so if things turn out hard for her then I'm guessing she might. Hoping someone's life turns out better than it likely will is always fun, like betting on the horse in last. I've never been very hopeful, so it might just be that same bias speaking. What is often the most difficult aspect to reconcile is that I get along terribly well with most of the people I've dated, so when there's one who doesn't want to catch up, have a coffee, it's quite clear they're either with someone and feeling puffed up about that — and good for them — or they still think I'm reaching out in order to establish some sort of ongoing contact, in this case, likely, thinking I want some sort of control, meaning they think that desire exists within me. Which is odd and untrue, but understandable.
The new lack of a bully pulpit returns memories previously cordoned off by the fact that they disagreed with the dominant conception, her depiction, of those relations. It's rather depressing. All this time I've been skinning myself alive, and all the while a memory of miscommunication has laid right there. Defining myself as uncaring, which she surely felt I was, stopped me from seeing that I simply cared differently, or was without the capacity. Moments I may have been having anxiety attacks, which she had no clue about and is therefore not to blame, or moments I found beautiful, caressing her silently afterwards, were simply taken as the bare minimum (or less) for what she needed. Horrible thing, being different people. Though I would have loved being told, would have loved the tiniest amount of communication while we were still seeing each other, it's far too late to be upset about such things. These kinds of communication issues are juvenile, but it doesn't diminish the pain the fallout can wreak. Oh well. Oh well. Find myself saying that more and more often. Learned some lessons, all made possible by seeing them in ways which don't deny the things which originally attracted me to them, namely their brilliance and capacity for cruelty.
I dated someone recently who is not brilliant, not in that way, and had no capacity for cruelty. It was fun. It was easier than usual. It was less taxing. And when I ended things, it was sad — and we shared a kind of consideration for each other, an interpretation of things that is not based on what is needed for our individual futures but what is better for the still-shared present. There's no moral judgement made here, especially as I still prefer the kind of woman who can wield morality for her own purposes, but it was a good experience. Part of me wishes that that meant I wanted that sort of person moving forward — but I don't. Don't think I'll ever not enjoy the kind of person who could destroy me, even unintentionally. I would just prefer it not to happen.
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