#to add in events while still having him remain in Character

[lunar-wandering]

laying in bed thinking about how Wukong is a people pleaser and this part of him gets frequently overlooked due to the focus on his hot-headedness/impulsivity

#Monkie Kid #lego monkie kid #tagging LMK cause i do think it uses this part of him #to add in events while still having him remain in Character #like of course Azure and the others convinced him to not be afraid and take on heaven #before heaven's army could arrive on his doorstep and force him to fight like in the books #like. he got kicked out of school because the other students encouraged him to show off #this is one hundred percent in character for him #if he got a single compliment he'd go along with whatever that person said when he was young #which is also part of how the Gold Star of Venus convinced him to get a job in Heaven #which Wukong was originally uninterested in #the fight against heaven + the mountain jaded him which made him more easily angered #(yknow. like a reasonable response to trauma) #but EVEN STILL during the Journey HE'S STILL A PEOPLE PLEASER #and then by the time of LMK he's mellowed out more which MAKES SENSE. #i could do a whole entire more formally written analysis about this but this is what i've got #brain cannot brain any more than this #anyways obligatory my opinions are my own and i respect anyone who disagrees with me tag #anyone who has another opinion is wonderful and valid but these are my thoughts

[inkykeiji]

you can always take more than nothing

character: bonten!mikey x fem!reader

genre: smut

notes: here’s my halloween piece, only half a month late! still, i hope you can enjoy it! as always, please heed the warnings and stay safe! | title cred: alice in wonderland

warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, public sex/exhibitionism, dom/sub dynamics, daddy kink, size difference, biting/marking, blood, minimal prep, rough sex, teasing, begging, dacryphilia, humiliation, a lil bit of degradation, drugs, toxic relationship

words: 8.6k

synopsis:

Those few remaining scraps of decency you’d both been clinging to have been devoured by Mikey’s growing selfishness, no longer caring about what others might see or think or say—it’s not like anyone’s dumb enough to do anything about it anyway; it’s not like anyone has enough of a death-wish to try. He’s the motherfucking Boss. And the Boss gets what he wants, where he wants, when he wants, always. 

The music is loud, so loud the walls seem to be breathing with it, bleeding with it, flashes of neon pouring over the frosted mosaics of glass and marble. 

A party, thinly veiled as a corporate event. 

There are people everywhere, scattered across every surface, crystal glasses filled with expensive liqour and cocktail concoctions glittering in their palms. You barely know any of them. 

They’re all supposed business partners, allies and associates, ‘friends’ of your Daddy. Not that it matters all that much to you; they aren’t allowed to say a word to you anyway. 

Your eyes scan the expanse of the club, on the hunt for a familiar face. Takeomi is in the corner, obnoxiously blowing smoke into some of the higher end girls’ faces. He’s really taking his role of The Caterpillar earnestly. 

Good. You told him it suited him.

At your request (AKA at Mikey’s demand), the top members of Bonten have dressed up as Alice in Wonderland characters, donning an impressive group costume. You’ve been taking the whole thing pretty seriously—beginning your extensive planning in August, drafting up designs and taking everyone’s precise measurements to have each outfit custom made to their exact frames—which means the rest of Bonten has been taking the whole thing pretty seriously, too. 

Not that any of them mind. 

What Mikey’s little angel wants, Mikey’s little angel gets. It’s standard protocol, really; you’re merely an extension of the Boss and thus must be treated as an extension of the Boss, and Mikey’s best men have no issues complying. 

Sighing, you rest your chin in your palms, sombreness souring your features. An ache, dull and dense, settles in the pit of your chest. It’s a desolate sort of longing, a gentle but constant gnawing that cannot be sated by anyone or anything other than it’s creator, something that weights your lungs and heavies your heart and stalls your breath, a vital part missing.

You miss Mikey.

You miss Mikey, but you know this ‘event’ really does have some sort of business significance; that, while it’s mostly an excuse to get drunk and high on Halloween night, it also serves as the grounds for some sort of meeting or negotiation or proposition—you can never be sure which, with Bonten. 

You aren’t allowed to know. You’re lucky to be here at all.

But you miss Mikey.

You shouldn’t be selfish. You know you shouldn’t be selfish; he’s already stretched so thin between so many obligations and obituaries, and you shouldn’t add to that strain. You won’t add to that strain. You’ll sit here, pretty and perfect like his precious little princess should be, and you’ll wait, patiently, until Daddy has a moment to spare you. 

He always finds a moment to spare, no matter how many duties and commitments he has. He always finds a space for you in his day, even if he has to carve it out with his bare hands.

So you mustn’t be greedy. You will be good. For him, you’ll do anything, no matter how difficult. 

“No frowning, miss Alice,” Sanzu chastises through a stretched grin, wide and carved into his cheeks—a smile so sharp, so sinister it puts the true Cheshire Cat to disgrace. 

He swims into your vision, teeth glinting with teals and fuchsias, an intricately wrapped box in his palms. Tugging on the ribbon a little, he unboxes it to reveal a wealth of small confections, individually wrapped in colourful foils.  

“Look, your favourite kitty brought you some chocolate.”

That brightens your mood a little—a sugar fiend, just like your Daddy is—and your mouth drops open expectantly, cute tongue unfurling in invitation. 

Sanzu rolls his eyes but places a truffle on your tongue anyway, pressing it down on the slick muscle and forcing your lips to close around his first knuckle to suck the treat free from him, laughing at the way your face twists.

Pervert. 

His nails taste like blood—not that you’ve come to expect any less—but the rusty copper is quickly eradicated by sugar, a content little hum vibrating around the melting chocolate.

“Good, huh?” Sanzu asks around his own chocolate, shuffling a gold box of expensive Italian truffles in his palm as he picks through them, confections jumping perilously with the motion, shimmering wrappers catching in the flashing neon strobes. “They’re imported.”

“Where’d you get those?” you ask through strings of caramel and cocoa, welding to your molars. 

“A little Halloween treat courtesy of Mikey,” he says dutifully, jostling the box in emphasis. “And an apology, for taking longer than expected.” 

Warmth blooms in your chest, swelling with your heart and stretching your ribs. The last few remnants of displeasure fade from your face, giving way to a small smile.

How very Mikey of him, to send his second in command armed with artisan chocolates and a short, sweet explanation; something he knew would make you smile, something he knew would alleviate some of your impatience, a reassurance that he misses you too, that he’ll be back soon, that he’s thinking of you. 

“There’s our pretty girl,” Sanzu teases, but his own grin has softened a little, the glint in his eyes dulled to a twinkle. “No more pouting, ‘kay? Your trusty Cheshire Cat will be by your side until your Hatter returns.”

Ah. A polite way of saying that you’re stuck with him until Mikey’s finished his work, no ifs, ands, or buts about it.

That takes longer than either of you expect, though, Sanzu’s plan of entertaining you by leading you, hand-in-hand, around the club to assess each Bonten member’s costume not nearly as lengthy as he had anticipated. 

Because it only takes a mere twenty minutes or so to examine all of them, with you near instantaneously deciding that the Haitanis have won the make-believe costume contest you and Sanzu had been holding between yourselves. 

Sanzu had agreed—everyone looks impeccable in their custom-made costumes, tailored specifically to them at your behest, but no one had any hope of eclipsing the Haitanis in their form-fitted pinstriped suits, each stitch and thread molded flawlessly to their frames, perfectly pressed collars embroidered with Dee and Dum in shimmery purple thread, powder blue bowties immaculately symmetrical around their tattooed necks. 

Now you’re back at the bar, Sanzu’s shaky fingers sifting through the box of truffles as he searches for something, anything, to distract him from the way the blood in his veins is beginning to dry up, the way his capillaries are withering, brittle and thirsty, the way his skin is beginning to itch.

Because he can’t do a goddamn thing about it. Not yet, anyway.

No narcotics when he’s chaperoning you; that’s a hard rule. That’s a rule that’s been sewn into the tissues of his brain so tightly it’s interwoven with his synapses. That’s an execution rule; a one time only rule—breaking that rule will get him fucking killed. 

But you’re both starting to become a little bit restless. 

“Come on,” you’re begging, word dragged across your tongue in a petulant whine. “Just one more chocolate?”

“I said no,” Sanzu snaps, eyes hard. “Mikey said three. Mikey’s the Boss. Whatever Mikey says goes; Mikey’s girl, Mikey’s rules!” 

“You’re no fun,” you huff, forehead scrunching with a pout. 

“Yeah, and that’s why he sticks me with you,” Sanzu says, though he sounds almost proud, as if it’s an honour to babysit you, a title of high esteem. “Because I can resist your tricks.”

“My charms,” you correct.

“Whatever,” he waves a hand. “It’s all semantics. Point is, I know how to say no to you, unlike a few certain someones.” 

Unimpressed ice blue eyes sweep across the venue, hovering pointedly on the faces of his colleagues—Kakucho, the Dormouse; Kokonoi, the White Rabbit; Rindou, Tweedle-Dum.

Your eyes follow his, and you smirk to yourself. Kakucho is the easiest out of those three; Kokonoi sometimes deceives you, allowing you to do as you please only to tattle to Mikey later, and Rindou always demands some sort of payment, claiming it’s only fair that you give him something he wants in return. 

Turning back, you’re about to respond, something bratty and bitter simmering on your tongue, when a pair of hands and a smooth voice cuts you off. 

You’d know that touch, that tone, anywhere.

“Pray, tell me, Miss Alice,” Mikey murmurs in your ear as he slinks up behind you, palms curling around your hips and pulling you back toward his chest. “Why is a raven like a writing desk?”

“Because it can produce a few notes,” you answer dutifully, head tipping back against his shoulder to glance at him through the corner of your eye. “Though they are very flat.”

“Correct,” he responds. “My, what a smart little girl you are.”

It’s soaked in condescension, compliment drawled out through a supercilious smirk, breath wafting across your face sweltering and saccharine. 

“Do I get a reward, Mister Hatter?” you ask, sweeter than sugarcane, batting eyelashes framing hopeful, dewy eyes. 

A hum vibrates on his tongue, onyx gaze apathetic and appraising as it glides across your features slowly, thoroughly, pulling each of your thoughts apart and putting them back together again. 

Your head rolls to the side, over his protruding collarbone, to stare at him more resolutely. And God, it’s the way you’re looking up at him, eyes glazed with dedication, with devoutness, like you want to fucking devour him. 

Like you want him to devour you. 

Hips pushing back, you rub your ass into his cock in inconspicuous little motions, lashes fluttering a little, back arched in a perfect curve and tits on full display. 

From this angle, there’s no way he can’t see right down your dress; there’s no way he can’t see the red lace of your bra straining against supple skin as your chest rises and falls with gentle breaths, no way he doesn’t notice the very tips of your nipples, cheekily peeking out from beneath the delicate material with each swell of your breasts. 

Bony fingers flex on your waist, and he huffs out a smirk.

His ebony pupils are enormous, blown wide and gaping, gnawing away at the whites of his eyes. 

He’s high. 

It’s evident in the milky film of artificial ecstasy lacquering his gaze, doped up and hazy, but it does nothing to dilute the potent love he has for you, melting his stare to something soft and sticky, pouring past his lashes.

He’s feeling good tonight.

“I think I know what my little girl wants,” one hand flattens against your stomach, holding you flush to his body as the other slides up your ribs to cup your breast, filling his palm with it and kneading, slow and deliberate, simply enjoying the feeling of you. “And it is very naughty of her.”

“Oh, really?”

“Mm,” he hums, head drooping to nose along the curve of your neck. “Really.”

His lips brush along your skin as he speaks, his voice barely more than a gentle vibration along the column of your throat, and you whimper a little, fingers curling around his wrist and pressing him closer.

“A-And what’s that?”

“Aw, can’t you guess?” he tuts his tongue. “And I thought you were smart. Must’ve been mistaken. Where’s my smart little girl gone now?”

Grip firm on your waist, his hips rut forward, hard cock prodding at you through the layers of tulle. A discontented little sound vibrates in your throat as you squirm a little—and oh, he knows what you’re whining about, greedy girl, knows that you can barely feel his cock through the thick petticoat, knows you want more—and he presses his hips further forward, grinding harder into your ass.

“Daddy—Da-Daddy, it’s—” 

“What?” he shoves again, stronger this time, teeth nipping at the skin below your ear. “Hm?”

“Your cock is hard,” you nearly whine, pushing back against him in a pitiful little wiggle, desperate for more friction. 

“And who’s fault is that, huh?” 

The hand massaging your breast gives a final squeeze before his fingers find your nipple, pinching it through the material of your dress and bra, then rubbing the heel of his thumb over it in hard, rhythmic motions. 

“Is your pussy wet?” he huffs the question into your ear, his hot breath procuring shivers. “I bet it is, naughty girl. Daddy wants to feel it.”

“Please, please,” your hips buck a little, punctuating your pleads, chest pressing into his touch.

“Please? Please what?”

“Touch me, Daddy, touch me, touch me.”

Slender hands slip beneath the puffy layers of lace, calloused fingertips rough as they skim up your smooth thighs, outlining the silk ruffles of the bloomers he bought you specifically for this costume. 

Your hips twitch slightly, legs spreading instinctively as his fingers trail along the scrunched hem to the apex of your thighs, pressing two into the rapidly dampening material. Pensively, they caress your slit through the material, prodding your hole just a little before rubbing two slow, hard circles into your clit.

“Christ,” he breathes out, curse splintering at the end. “You’re so fucking wet baby, and I’ve barely done anything yet.”

His palm flattens against you, all four fingers dipping into your core nearly to the first knuckle and then curling, the heel of his hand grinding against your clit, and your pelvis cants reflexively, almost as if you’re attempting to draw his fingertips further in. 

“How are you this wet already, huh?” he keens, voice straining beneath his own desire. “Been thinking naughty thoughts?”

“Jus’want your cock,” you slur out honestly, hips gyrating in pathetic little circles, an embarrassing attempt to follow his touch. 

“Oh, yeah? That’s all it takes, eh?” he rolls your clit between his thumb and his forefinger, nonchalantly toying with it as he mulls. “Just my cock?” 

“Uh-huh,” you nod blearily. “Uh-huh, uh-huh.”

“Cute,” Mikey spits, the compliment sheathed in venom, “how utterly stupid just the thought of my cock makes you.” 

His fingers clamp down on the swollen nub and tug, your whole body jolting with the pain, a yelp hitching in your chest. 

The arm wrapped around your waist tightens in response, holding you close, holding you still as he humps away at you, sloppy and uneven.

“Oh, baby,” he murmurs, fingers tweaking your clit in rhythmic motions, sparks of pleasure chased by shocks of pain. “You’re so fucking easy for your Daddy, aren’t you? So quick to get soaked for him, so quick to get ready for him, such a good little slut for him, yeah?” 

His voice is gravelly, letters wispy around the edges despite fact that he’s nearly shouting over music. Another rush of heat surges between your thighs, and he laughs, dark and dangerous. 

Your clit throbs in his touch, the silk of your panties drenched all the way through, aiding his fingers in their slippery motions—several small, fast S gestures, followed by a few firm strokes of your slit, fingertips gliding over your folds with ease. You’re so soaked, whole cunt now outlined by the shimmery material, molding to your folds and enabling him to feel every dip, every bump, every crevice, another chuckle dripping from his lips as your little hole clenches around nothing.

“Daddy,” you whimper, thighs squeezing together tightly as you attempt to fuck his fingers. “Daddy, I—I can’t—I need—” 

“Shh,” he hushes you, lips caressing the curve of your ear. “I know, baby. Daddy knows what you need.” 

A palm wraps around your wrist as Mikey mutters something about going somewhere a little more private, pulling you along behind him and leading you toward those purple velvet VIP couches, empty and roped off in a darkened corner. 

“What are we—” you begin as Mikey collapses heavily on the couch, knees spread wide open, hips shifting up slightly as he forces his feet even further apart, getting comfortable. 

C’mere, his lips mime, voice drowning in heavy bass, his chin jutting in the general direction of his straining cock, yearning against pin-striped pants. 

Strong hands curl around your hips and yank you backward, the abrupt motion punching a sound of surprise from your chest as you tumble into his lap, spine pressed tight to his sternum. 

The hinges of his jaw hook over your shoulder, a crude way of keeping you from squirming as he manhandles you into straddling his thighs, hard cock pressing into your core. 

“Holy fuck,” he pants out, the curse damp against your skin. “You’re so wet I can feel you leaking through my pants.”

“Daddy,” you say, and although it’s meant to be a warning, it comes out as a whine, stringy and petulant.  

Because it already feels so good, and he’s already so hard, and you just can’t help but rock your hips back, slow and firm, whimpering a bit as the head of his cock glides over your clit, teasing as the slick, swollen little nub jumps beneath the dull pressure. 

He laughs a little, nothing more than a deep, dark rumbling within his ribs, reverberating against your back.

“You’re so fucking nasty, baby,” he chides lowly, though you can hear the self-satisfied smirk sewn into his voice, tinged with sadism, as he rolls his hips up twice, grinding his cock into your drenched core. “You’re so fucking needy, baby, trying to get yourself off in the middle of this crowded club.”

You are, you are, another little sound escaping your lips as you rut back against him, already beginning to speed up, rubbing the head of his cock over your clit in quick little strokes.

“It’s really precious, y’know, how pathetically eager you are for me,” he murmurs, notes of fondness negating the sting the insult should bring, words gone melty and sweet. “But you gotta stop humping Daddy for a moment, so he can get his cock out and give you what you really want.” 

A disgruntled little whine sounds in your throat, motions stuttering a little as you attempt to stop moving. But it all feels so incredible, greedily unable to quell your hips completely as they rotate in messy little circles, tummy starting to ripple with each graze of his blunt head against your clit.

“Hey,” he warns, sharp and stern, a palm colliding with your bare thigh and leaving a burning handprint seared in its wake, the impact of the slap loud enough to draw a few pairs of eyes. “Don’t get bratty with me, or you won’t get anything at all, you understand?”

Your head’s nodding before the words are even finished leaving his lips—yes, Daddy, of course, Daddy, brats don’t deserve to be filled by Daddy’s cock—desperate to be good for him, to be the best for him.

Because you know he isn’t fucking around; Mikey’s threats are never empty threats, each and every word plucked from his brain with superlative care, heavy and infused with meaning.

It’s terrifying and tantilizing, how easily and instantly he can switch from one mode to the other: from playful to imposing, from Daddy to Leader, a pleasant shiver skittering up your spine, your hole clenching and pulsing as your stomach plummets, gut weighted with a tingling pressure.

It’s a bit of a task, freeing his cock and manoeuvring yourself as you try to inconspicuously sink down on it, but you both manage, your fluffy petticoat of crinoline and tulle providing a decent amount of privacy. 

A hiss slips through the gaps of your gritted teeth as it begins to tear you in two, cute little hole stinging as it strains around his cock, struggling to accommodate his girth, delicate skin splitting itself open for him. 

“That’s it, that’s it,” he breathes lowly, voice vibrating against your ear. “There you go, good girl.” 

An airy little moan spills from your lips as he bottoms out, cockhead pressed snug to your cervix, and you melt back into him, skull knocking against his shoulder, eyes slipped shut. 

“Feel better, princess?”

“Yes, Daddy,” you mumble out dreamily. “S’good, S’right.”

“It feels right, huh?” he chuckles a little, thumbs rubbing fond circles into your hips, his hands all the way up your skirt, slipped beneath the frills and fluff, forearms buried in your dress. “You like it when Daddy fills you up?”

“Uh-huh,” you nod. “Stretches me out real good, makes me feel all stuffed ‘n full.” 

Whole, complete, one. Like everything feels as it’s supposed to again.

And it hurts, because it always hurts, because he’s too thick and you’re never prepped enough, never patient enough, core split open on his cock and little hole aching as it attempts to adjust to him, but it’s so fucking perfect, too. Your cunt spasms around him, hips twitching a little in desperation—like you’re trying to suck him in further, like you’re trying to bury him deeper—and he groans, fingers flexing as he holds you still, nails gorging on your flesh.

“Eager, are we?” 

“S’not my fault,” you mewl, back arching a little as you attempt to push your hips back, squirming a bit in his strong grip. “Need you, Daddy.”

“Is that so?”

Grasp tightening, his hips thrust up, grinding the head of his cock into your cervix in slow, hard motions—back and forth, back and forth, inspiring a dull pang throbbing in your gut. 

Gasping sharply, your hips jerk back in response, automatic and instinctual, pulling a hoarse groan from his chest. 

His clutch turns to near bone crushing, a fractured little cry sticking in your throat, and he forces you to hold still for a moment, muscles in his thighs gone rigid and stiff as his hips press up further and tug you down, frozen, revelling in the way your cunt pulses around him, as if it’s whining for him.

“M-Mikey,” you echo its sentiments, his name a sulky plead on your tongue, brows knit together and lips jutted in a pout. 

“What’s the matter, sweetheart?”

“You know,” you huff out, wriggling a little in his palms, feebly trying to fuck yourself on him.

“Tell me anyway,” he demands.  

Scalding embarrassment pricks your cheeks and you whimper, fidgeting in his grasp again, head shaking in defiance.

“Come on,” he chides, but there are notes of amusement infusing his tone. “Daddy can’t give you what you want if you don’t ask for it.” 

Sharp teeth sink into your shoulder suddenly, your half-formed response strangled by a gasp, Mikey’s jaw tensing as he burrows his teeth further into your flesh, piercing through tissues and snapping capillaries until copper explodes in his mouth. 

He holds it for a moment, all thirty-two of his teeth latched in your skin, ensuring he leaves a full, detailed outline of his mouth etched into you—a signature of sorts—before his tongue flattens against the wound, dragging over it in a single wide lick and sealing it with blood-tinged saliva. A gentle exhale wafts over the bite, cool against the searing pain, and you shudder, chills erupting across your flesh.

“You’re a big girl,” he coaxes over your whimpering, the encouragement steeped in condescension. “I know you can do it. Use your big girl words and tell Daddy what you want.”

Your eyes squeeze shut against the burn of humiliation, lids crinkling at the corners, the softest hiccup catching in your throat, and you feel his cock twitch inside of you. 

“I—I wanna ride your cock, Daddy,” you push the stubborn words from your tongue, trembling and breathy.

“Yeah?” he asks, bloodied tongue tracing along the shell of your ear. “How bad?”

“So bad,” you bleat out, striving to bounce on his cock under the firm restraint of his hands, dewdrops of annoyance clinging to your lashes, glittering in the beams of magenta and teal as you blink rapidly.

“Hm,” he muses to himself, nonchalant as he readjusts his grip, hands constringing, completely halting your pathetic little movements. “It doesn’t seem like you want it all that badly.”

“Daddy,” the word leaves your lips in a whine, scrunched and petulant through your pout, body thrashing beneath his strong grip. “Come on—” 

“Are you sure you wanna be such a naughty little whore in front of all of these people?”

Your body stops its writhing, his words like a slap to the face.

It’s a bit of a shock, to hear it spoken aloud so bluntly, cut and dry and honest, and it sends a torrent of sparks fizzing through your chest to collect dense and tight in your tummy. 

Shame and revulsion sets your skin aflame, the cinders in your gut flaring in response, an intoxicating combination. 

“Yes—”

“Huh? What was that?” he shouts theatrically in your ear. “I couldn’t really hear you over the music.”

“Y-Yes,” you repeat, trying to steady your hiccuping voice, to be stern and resolute, even as tears begin to stream down your cheeks.

“Really?” he breathes, and he sounds astonished, he sounds appalled. “You’re so fucking sleazy, baby. I wonder what all these people would think, if they knew how truly filthy my little girl is...”

“Manjirou,” you weep out his birth name, whole face saturated in frustration.

“Oh-ho-ho,” he chuckles out the word, and it’s vicious. “Graduated to using my full name, now, have you?” he licks at the steadily oozing bite, mopping up more blood with his tongue. “Christ, you do really want it.” 

“I do!” you cry out, struggling against his grasp again, hips bucking in wild, erratic motions. “I do, I do, please, let me ride your cock, please.” 

“What if I made you sit, still and straight like the good little girl I know you want to be, on my hard cock for the rest of the night? Do you think you’d be able to handle it?”

You know he won’t, know he’d never be able to, because he’s just as addicted to you as you are to him, just as desperate, just as eager, just as needy; because even as he holds you motionless, he can’t quite halt the delicate jerk of his hips, rolling up into your core; because you know he wants this just as badly as you do, gets off on the depravity just as much as you do.

Even so, the mere thought of being teased like this, of being forced to hold such a degrading position, is still enough to inspire a rush of agitated tears to flood your eyes, vision gone bleary with despairing desire and rendering the club a bleary haze of glowing neons. 

“No, Daddy, no, I—I just want to ride you, please, Daddy, I c-can’t—” 

You’re nearly wailing now, head thrown back dramatically as your neck twists into an uncomfortable knot, anguished as you try to bury your face in his throat, looking for solace. Your chest stutters as you stammer out half-finished pleads, gone garbled with spit, and Mikey smiles.

You’re starting to cause a scene. 

It’s exactly what he wanted.

“Okay, baby, okay, okay,” he’s pacifying as he feels hot tears soak into his neck, a choked sob catching painfully in your chest. “Daddy’s here, Daddy’s gonna make it all better.”  

And finally, finally his grasp loosens, stiff fingers gone lax, massaging lopsided circles into the rapidly developing bruises left in the shape of their prints. 

“Go ahead, angel,” he urges, nuzzling into the junction of your shoulder, pressing a chaste kiss to the congealing bite. “Ride Daddy’s cock.” 

Then he’s slumping back, settling into the couch cushions and spreading his thighs a little wider, pressing the soles of his boots into the waxed floor for stability and leverage. 

His hands stay on your waist, a gentle guidance, but he allows you to set the pace—a rare occurrence—patient as your hips work up a steady rhythm of quick, shallow gyrations, each swivel dragging his cock against your favourite spot.

And God, you’re so cute when you use his cock to make yourself feel good. It’s a shame that he can’t see your face in this position, can’t see the way your lashes flutter and frame the rolling whites of your eyes or the way your features scrunch so delicately; a shame he can’t hear your gorgeous noises, all your sweet little gasps and pitiful little whines consumed by the blaring music. 

But he can see how your back is bowing, spine forced into a near perfect arc by your building pleasure, bending just a hint more with each brush of his cock; he can feel your palms clutching his knees, nails digging little crescents into his shins and using them for support as your movements accelerate, as you fuck yourself harder, faster, better.

And he lets you have your fun for a little, lays back all languid and lazy and watches through lidded eyes as you play with yourself and use his cock like it’s your favourite toy—because, well, it is—but eventually it just isn’t enough and you need Daddy’s help. 

Just like he knew it wouldn’t be. Just like you always do.

Not that he minds one bit.

Yes, it isn’t enough, because it never is, because you can never manage anything more than teasing yourself when left entirely to your own devices, spritzing kerosene on the dull smouldering in the pit of your stomach as the head of his cock brushes up against that engorged spot inside of you, not nearly hard enough or fast enough to have you anywhere close to creaming on him, merely enough to have your clit throbbing, swollen and neglected. 

He knows you’re beginning to get restless when your hips turn sloppy, tempo starting to falter as your motions stutter, and then you’re looking over your shoulder at him with a beseeching pout, glazed eyes begging him to do something!

So he does. 

He’s straightening up in a split second, hands around your waist tightening as he yanks you back toward his chest, chin hooking over your clavicle again and grinding the sharp bone into your skin.

“Poor thing,” he murmurs against your jaw, mocking and mean. “Can’t even get herself off without her Daddy’s help.” 

“I can’t, I can’t,” you wail over the roar of EDM, head shaking in accentuation. “Need you, need you to do it for me.”

“Of course you do, angel,” he says, as if it’s obvious, as if it’s common knowledge. “But that’s okay—Daddy will make it feel good.” 

That’s the only warning you’re given before his hips are ramming up, rapid and rough and downright ruthless, the abrupt motion slamming a high-pitched yelp from your throat, so pure and genuine and full of lust that it rises above the music, breaks through the heavy bass beat, gathering a handful of glances from a few nearby party-goers. 

So much for being inconspicuous. 

You should’ve known that that just isn’t Mikey’s style. 

They lose interest just as quickly as they gained it, though, going back to their drinks and their drugs, unconcerned. What the Boss does at his own club is none of their business, even if it is on display for the whole venue to see. 

Still, it’s enough for Mikey.   

“Everyone can see you, you know,” voracious black eyes scan the balcony space. “Everyone can see you being such a good little whore for your Daddy.” 

The thought of being watched, of being caught, inspires a whole flock of butterflies to flit around in your tummy, another surge of heat gushing between your thighs, and Mikey laughs. Oh, he felt that. 

Because he’s right; if anyone dared to look a little closer, a little longer, cared to paid a smidge of more attention to the two of you, hidden on one of the velvet couches wedged in the corner of the VIP section with your hips rocking and Mikey’s hands buried in the lace and tulle of your skirt, they’d know exactly what the two of you are doing.

But it doesn’t matter; you don’t care. Neither does he. Why should either of you?

“Do you—Do you think they like it?” you question, and Christ, it’s so precious, that pathetic hope ringing high and clear in your voice. “Do you think they like watching me bounce on their Boss’s cock?”

“Fuck,” the curse fragments in his throat, sharp and pitchy, and he coughs on the shards. “I know they do, sweetheart.”

“Do you think they’re g-gonna go home and touch themselves to the thought of me—of us?”

“Aw,” Mikey coos out in a chuckle, breathless and condescending. “It’s cute that you think they aren’t already jerking off to you on a regular basis.”

Of course they are, you silly little stupid thing; how could they not be? With all the sweet, short little dresses he buys you to prance and twirl around in—the ones with the sweetheart necklines that dip just a hint too low, teasing the swell of your breasts with each of your gentle inhales; the ones with the rippling hems that end just a touch too high, swishing and swaying and flashing with each of your movements, riding up and fanning out to gift them with teasing little glimpses of the lace and satin underneath. 

“You think I don’t know what my—ah, Christ—what my men think of you? How my men think of you?” He tongues a little at the bite, using his front teeth to scrape off a few half-formed scabs, blood rushing to pool in their place. “You think I don’t see the way they look at you?” 

A whine stammers in your throat, your back arching a little more as your cunt quivers around his cock, that drove of butterflies sending your stomach swooping, the organ tensing, tying itself into thick knots pulled tight and taut with each plunge of his cock. 

Mikey laughs again, the sound nothing more than a deep, dense vibration rumbling within his ribs, seeping into your back and sending tingles up your spine. 

“Would you like to see the way they look at you?” 

“H-Huh?” 

Oh, how adorably fucked out you already are, mind gone dumb and numb to everything but him, but his voice and his touch and his steadily driving cock; oh, how adorably easy it is to make you this fucking idiotic. 

“Look over there,” he presses his cheek into yours, forcing your head to turn and follow his gaze. 

Across the club, Rindou sits with an elbow resting on the edge of the bar, a glass dangling from his fingertips. His eyes are cavernous, carnivorous, a smirk smearing across his face as your stare meets his, heavy lids framing a leering look. 

Using a shoulder, he nudges his brother’s stomach, jutting his chin toward you and his Boss in indication when Ran looks down in question, redirecting his attention. 

Now they’re both watching you, with doped up violet eyes and identical sleazy smiles, toothless and worming.

It makes you want to scrub and scratch at your skin, their gazes painting you in a thick coat of grime, body soiled by their lust and left feeling dirty, feeling gross, a strong shiver crawling across your flesh.

Your head jerks reflexively, desperate to hide from their lechery, skull knocking against Mikey’s hard enough to send thorns of pain searing through your temple. 

A yelp cracks in your throat, and Mikey snorts, seemingly unfazed. 

“Aw,” Mikey tuts in false admonishment. “Don’t get shy now. Look at them. Look at them while you ride my cock.”

“M-Mikey—” your eyes shut tightly, a pitiful attempt to escape their invasive eyes, head shaking in little judders.

“C’mon,” he goads, forcing you to face their stare. “You want them all to see, right? How good my little girl is? How pretty my little girl is?”

Peeking through your lashes, you squint at the Haitanis, features teetering on the verge of a wince, as if you’re expecting them to physically strike you. 

They’re still looking at you, wide and unblinking, speaking out of the side of their mouths in laughs and murmurs to one another. 

Dressed in matching pin-striped suits and thick suspenders, Rindou has discarded his jacket, shirtsleeves rolled haphazardly up his forearms to his elbows, first few buttons of his shirt popped undone, revealing a defined collarbone. 

Predictably, Ran is still the perfect picture of poise and elegance, not a single hair out of place, suit jacket square on his shoulders and flawlessly tailored to his body, each stitch outlining his edges.

Tweedledum and Tweedledee respectively, and just as treacherous.

Whatever it is they’re saying to each other, they’re clearly enjoying themselves, amusement playing in glassy irises as Ran rests a hand around Rindou’s neck, slim fingers pressing into plush muscle. His younger brother instantly relaxes into his touch, mollifying back against his stomach and hooking an arm around his thigh, hugging it to his ribs. 

And it’s the way they’re looking at you, as if they’re peeling the clothes from your body and the skin from your bones and peering into the depths of your soul to dance with your demons and devour your secrets; as if they’re singeing your expression into their minds, the sight of your features saturated in perturbation and pleasure branded into the tissues of their brains, carved into the walls of their skulls, ensuring they’ll never forget.

Everything feels overexposed as they pry you apart bit by bit, heady mix of hedonism and humiliation hazing over your brain.

Mikey’s hips slow to a drag, thighs tensing and soles of his boots skidding across marble as he expertly angles his hips and presses up, rubbing the head of his cock over your g-spot in slow, controlled motions—back and forth, back and forth, over and over and over again. 

And the moan that claws at your throat is almost obnoxious, is definitely embarrassing, which means Mikey needs to fuck at least three more from your chest, grunting a little with the effort as his cockhead jabs against that plush spot, hard and precise.

A whine that sounds suspiciously like his title, tangled in spit and weighted with shame, spills from your lips, and you nestle your face against his own even as your hips jolt, desperate for comfort, desperate for cover.

“Don’t pretend you don’t like it,” he nuzzles your damp cheek. “I know you do. I can feel it.”

It’s true, he can—you’re sure he can, with the way your straining little hole keeps pulsing around his length, another stream of heat cascading down his shaft, viscous and wet and so, so much, to pool in the folds of his balls, to stain the waistband of his pants and the velvet of the couch.

But you know he likes it just as much as you do. 

Because you’re both so fucking naughty, so fucking nasty, but the depravity just works to heighten it all, makes it that much better, amplifying every touch and brush and tease and fondle and making it all feel so fucking good, even as Mikey’s pace eases into something unhurried, his thrusts turned languid but powerful.

So you join in, you rise to his challenge, a sick little game the two of you play, a sick little game you force others to participate in—because you’re fucking untouchable.

“Do you think their cocks are hard, Daddy?” you ask, the question dripping with syrup as you roll your hips backwards, slow and purposeful, returning the Haitanis’ smouldering stare through fanned lashes, unblinking and tenacious. 

“Ah, f-fuck,” Mikey’s cock jolts, rhythm stammering for a moment before he regains his composure. “Yeah, baby, I bet they’re wishing they were me right now.”

You bet they are, too, mouths stopped moving and gazes gleaming with want, lips parted with uneven exhales pushed from their heaving chests, entirely enchanted by your movements.

It’s the most affected and authentic you’ve ever seen them before, and it sends a thrill of power shooting through your body, blood left fizzing in its wake. 

One of them reaches into their pocket, groping around blindly for their phone, not daring to spare a second of their attention away from you, and Mikey snarls, nose scrunched in disgust and lip curled in a sneer, baring gritted teeth.

Because that’s too much, that’s crossing a line, and Mikey swiftly redirects your face, effectively hiding your expression from the Haitanis’ hungry eyes. 

Mikey’s always liked to show off. Mikey’s never liked to share.

He swaps shoulders quickly, the defined hinges of his jaw clasped firmly over your collarbone, and smushes his face flush to yours again, skin clammy with sweat. 

“And look over there,” he steers your gaze toward the other side of the club, where Kokonoi sits with a smattering of men surrounding a tall cocktail table, littered with crystal glasses and white lines. 

The men around the table are laughing about something, sloshing liquor and cutting powder into thick, fat stripes, but Kokonoi isn’t paying attention to any of it. 

No. Kokonoi is looking at you. 

His eyes snap away when they meet your own, head whipping forward with such speed and such force it’s a marvel he doesn’t instantly give himself whiplash. A deep laugh rumbles in Mikey’s throat in response, something dark, something decadent. 

“He’s gonna go home and touch himself to you, too,” he says. “He might not even make it before he goes home; might end up jerking his cock in a bathroom stall or the front seat of his car.” 

“How can you tell?” 

“Well, look at him,” Mikey snorts. “He’s so hard he’s about to burst outta his pants.”

Following the line of Kokonoi’s body, your gaze travels downward, to the straining lump in his white pants. His hips shift a little uncomfortably as his thighs tense, hands curled into fists on his knees as he steadily trains his stare forward at the wall opposite of him, throat bobbing with a thick swallow.

Mikey’s right—Koko’s about to burst.

The thought of Koko rushing to his car to collapse in the driver’s seat, head tipped back against the headrest and hand shoved down his pants as his palm rubs frantically at his hard cock, or hastening to the washroom to lock himself in a stall, forehead pressed tightly to the rickety door and panting out stuttered, half-stifled whimpers hotly against his upper lip as he hurriedly relieves the problem you’ve created, is almost too much to bear, stomach clenching in time with the throbbing of your cunt, a torrid pressure building and burning in your gut. 

The sudden acceleration of Mikey’s thrusts snaps you out of that tangle of thoughts, effectively drawing every ounce of your attention back to him.

A mewl pries past your lips, sharp and high and cracking at the end, whole spine arching as Mikey resumes his assault on your favourite spot, cockhead driving hard and fast against plush flesh. 

“They can look all they want, but you’re mine.” His fingers tighten, his grasp rigid and unbreakable, the words nothing more than a snarl spit in your ear, wet and harsh. “I won’t fuckin’ share.” 

“Never, never, never,” you babble in time with the bouncing on his lap, head nodding in sloppy motions with each repetition of the word. 

“Never,” he growls, teeth sinking into the flesh of your shoulder sloppily, excess spit dribbling from the corners of his mouth as he breaks the skin for the second time tonight and sucks hard, drawing blood from the string of tiny wounds.

It has another cry escaping your throat, whole face crinkling in a sordid mixture of pleasure and pain, head instinctually thrown back against your Daddy, automatically giving him more room to work. Drops of watered down blood drool down your back and Mikey takes a moment to admire them, mesmerised by the way they shimmer in the strobing lights of the club, before he licks at them with the tip of his tongue, leaving crude strokes of fresh spit in their wake.

Those few remaining scraps of decency you’d both been clinging to have been devoured by Mikey’s growing selfishness, no longer caring about what others might see or think or say—it’s not like anyone’s dumb enough to do anything about it anyway; it’s not like anyone has enough of a death-wish to try.

He’s the motherfucking Boss.

And the Boss gets what he wants, where he wants, when he wants, always. 

He’s really fucking you now, vicious and vigorous, your entire body juddering in his lap as his hips piston up, cockhead pounding against that sensitive mound of tissue buried deep within you. 

Each thrust shoves another shattered sound from your tongue, splintered moans of his name and his title pouring past your lips in a jagged stream. 

The knot your stomach has twisted itself into strains under the building pressure, growing heavier and heavier with each jackhammer into you, stretched taut and stiff and ready to snap. 

It’s all so much, the ogling eyes and the ramming of his cock and the tightening in your belly, every muscle in your body coiled and aching for the ecstasy that comes with release. Your breath mangles with the mewls shoved from your lips with every slam up, sticking to your throat and you cough, wheezing past the splinters.  It’s all too much, and—!

“M’gonna, m’gonna cum, Daddy!” you gasp, tears dotting the corners of your eyes, sparkling in spidery lashes.  

“Yeah, baby?” he breathes, voice dropping to a ragged rasp. “You gonna cream all over Daddy’s cock? Huh? Make a mess on my cock surrounded by all of Daddy’s closest and most esteemed colleagues?” 

“Yes, yes, yes,” you nearly sob out, palms curling over his wrists, nails clawing at the delicate skin, desperate for an anchor. 

“My dirty fucking girl,” he hisses out, sharp breath stinging your cheek. “Such a good—Ah—good little slut for me, aren’t you?” 

You can no longer respond, rendered stupid from the ardor, potent pleasure corroding your brain and gnawing through your synapses. It’s downright intoxicating, it’s fucking insatiable, it’s simultaneously immense and insufficient, way too much yet not nearly enough, because you need more, you need more, unintelligible pleads shattering on your tongue.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, baby, gush all over Daddy, make a pretty mess on his lap for him. Show everyone in this Goddamn club how gorgeous you look cumming for me.” 

And so you do, ever your Daddy’s best girl, body eager to obey its owner as your cunt convulses around him, copious amounts of slick cascading down his shaft to drench his thighs, sticky and sharp and so fucking sick as he continues to bounce you in his lap. 

The spasming of your cute little hole draws the sweetest whine from the back of his throat, panted out against the curve of your ear, and another bout of warmth rushes to the apex of your thighs, earning you a shuddered little curse, the exhale sweltering against your sweaty skin.

You sound so pretty right before you cum, Daddy. 

Three more pumps of his hips and he’s following, thrusts stuttering as he fucks up messily into you, cock throbbing almost violently and stuffing you to the brim with thick, hot cum. Strong hands hold you firmly in place, cockhead pressed flush to your cervix as he spills himself into you, as he forces you to take every fucking ounce of what he’s giving you. 

And you love it, you love it, you love it, you’re telling him, sentiments pouring from your mouth in a jumbled stream, singular and continuous until your lungs run out of air, voice cutting off with a squeak. 

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” Mikey’s murmuring into your skin in response, lips leaving smears of sugary saliva just below your earlobe. 

He allows you to sit on him for a moment, chest heaving against your back with ragged breaths, sweaty forehead pressed tightly to your shoulder. Tilting your head, your rest your cheek on the back of his skull, eyes slipping shut as your own heart begins to calm, cunt still pulsating irregularly around his shaft, almost as if it’s attempting to squeeze a few more drops out of him, his cock acting as a crude plug, keeping most of his cum buried inside of you.

Finally, his head lifts, pressing a tender kiss to the blood-encrusted bite glittering on your shoulder. 

“Go get cleaned up in the washroom,” he mutters gently, pressing another string of kisses along your jaw. “Don’t wipe away any of Daddy’s cum; let it soak into your panties real nice and good, let them get really wet, and then snap a few pictures and send them to me. Can you do that for me, angel?” 

“Yes, Daddy,” you slur out, nodding in loose, liquid movements. 

“Good,” he pats your thigh twice. “Now, go.” 

A small noise of affirmation sounds in your throat, head still nodding as Mikey helps you stand between his spread thighs, hands on your waist keeping you upright while you wobble on unsteady legs. 

And the noise that you make as his cum and your slick surges out of you—something caught somewhere between a mewl and a whine, turned on and disappointed simultaneously—is the cutest thing he’s ever heard, a muted coo slipping from his own lips as your hands wrap around his, using them to further stable yourself. 

He holds you for a moment or two longer, making sure you’re sturdy and your knees won’t suddenly give out, before giving you one final squeeze and releasing you, smirking a little as he watches you teeter away on rickety feet. 

Initially, his plan was to have you capture a few naughty photos for him—pretty little things to stash away in his phone for later use, during the nights he’s forced to spend away from you, sitting in expensive cars or laying in lush hotel beds—and force you to wear the gluey, cum-drenched undies for the remainder of the party. 

But then his phone is buzzing, and he’s unlocking it to find your cunt perfectly outlined by thin silk as it sticks to your folds, little clit and hole contoured and accentuated by the slick, shining fabric, soiled by a large, irregular patch of wetness, and oh, there’s no way he’ll be able to wait until you arrive home to fuck you again. 

No, he needs to fuck you now, a sudden burst of adrenaline buzzing through his veins, little sparks and minuscule explosions that have him up and moving in under a second, cock already beginning to fill with life again.

Sheer, potent power permeates the atmosphere around him, trembling off his body in sharp bolts; dense, heavy, cracking with electricity. 

The way the crowd instantly parts for him is awe-inspiring, their gleaming eyes full of terror and worship, hastily tripping over their own toes and ankles to move from his path as he strides toward the washroom, desperate to not be stung by his brilliance, desperate to get as close to the currents as possible without being scathed. 

You’re just exiting the restroom by the time he reaches you, breath punched from your lungs as he backs you into a tiled corner, trapped between the cold wall and his scorching form, his hands splayed wide on either side of your shoulders.

“We gotta go,” he’s nearly panting out as he shoves his forehead against yours, eyes closed and noses nudging, straining cock grinding unceremoniously into your hip. “We gotta go, now.”  

And, well, Daddy always gets what Daddy wants. 

#mikey sano x reader #mikey sano smut #mikey x reader #mikey smut #bonten mikey smut #bonten mikey x reader #bonten x reader #bonten mikey x you #sano manjiro x reader #sano manjiro smut #mikey x you #bonten smut #tokyo revengers smut #SORRY ITS SO LATE HAHA PLS ENJOYYY #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x you

[maythearo]

" Welcome back to Night Raven College's 'Ghostly Gossip'! The school's unofficial main online source for the latest news, articles and trending topics circulating around campus! "

" You see, all my notes have to say about him is 'Mr braincell Spade that electrified the whole pool last swimming class'- and I'm almost sure it wasn't me who wrote it. Although I still remember this event so clearly... what a weird day. "

Navigation:

R. Rosehearts - T. Clover - C. Diamond - A. Trappola - D. Spade - L. Kingscholar - R. Bucchi - J. Howl - A. Ashengrotto - J. Leech - F. Leech - K. Al Asim - J. Viper - V. Schoenheit - R. Hunt - E. Felmier - I. Shroud - O. Shroud - M. Draconia - L. Vanrouge - S. Zigvolt - Silver

[ design notes ]

Alright so that took a bit longer bcs I wanted Ace to be ready as well, just so I could link his and Deuce's designs in a few aspects, and I'll talk about this in more detail later, for sir Ass Trampoline's future entry.

I know in that picture I said there was way too much free space on reference pics, but I'm just realizing I should have included one of Frankie bcs obviously they were a huge inspiration for Deuce's design as well 😭 both from G1 and G3. I initially chose the Frankenstein monster for him just for the fact that he's good with machines n stuff in canon, but later I realized the og story of Frankenstein had a lot to do with conflict between the creator and the creation, that if I squint it I can see the similarities between that and Deuce's character arc to change + his rocky relationship to his family, idk, can't really oversimplify the book's story but. I thought the themes could be very loosely connected 🧍 (?)

I should also add that the highlights on his hair match his mom's, that's cute. ALSO also his rings designs/placements don't really matter, I think he'd just wear whatever rings he finds without much preference.

For his AU personality and traits, well, he's just Deuce. Straightforward, diligent, at times naive, and clumsy Deuce. Story and background pretty much remains the same too, why not!

Sorry I didn't have much to say here, most of the notes I work on I write while in class or in the car (not the best places for concentration imo), bcs I'm not having much free time to stay still lately 😭 I'm hoping I didn't leave much of my hcs behind though!

#.the ghostly gossip #deuce spade #twst #twisted wonderland #twst fanart #monster high #my art #twst au #monster high fanart #heartslabyul #Ass Trampoline soon i think #(collapses on the floor)

[onirique-amaranth]

⎮Why run away from the unknown?⎮

⏤Characters: Childe⎮reader

⏤ Including: nsfw (-17)

⏤ Warnings: bottom Tartaglia, top reader, taller and buff male reader (sunfrost eremite height), confused and lost reader, struggle to comprehend the environment, mention of alcohol, stalking, implied obsession, sex under the influence, spitting, squirting.

⏤ Summary: Your entire world can fall apart just by waking up. And this time, the gods didn't miss their shot.

⏤ 26.620 words

There are many possibilities and events that a human can't predict…

Such as the loss of a loved one, a natural but disastrous phenomenon for humankind, the pain that can be inflicted on you by a single hand gesture, a heartbreak… So many things that are impossible to anticipate or even envisage. And even if someone did, no one would believe them.  

Other than those, you also wanted to add something, that no one will ever listen to or believe you about. Nobody could dare to consider it as possible or real.

You woke up in another world. 

At least, that's what you guessed after a long while. 

After waking up, in an unknown place, you were just confused. Nothing seemed similar to anything you have seen before, each detail of the surrounding environment was odd, coming out of a fantasy world. Not only was the view unbelievable, but the silence was deafening, absolutely nothing was reaching your ears. 

This was something a human, especially you, could have never expected or predicted, it was surrealistic. Within such a short instant, your world turned upside down, and you weren't fully aware of it yet. 

After all, how crazy would it be to wake up in an unknown world? 

It was impossible, you knew that, it was obviously supposed to be unrealizable. Only an insane person could be imagining this… Did you lose your mind? 

From the second you opened your eyes, you were wholly and utterly lost, glancing around frantically. Thankfully, you weren’t the kind of person to immediately lose your cool, so panic hasn’t taken control over your body yet. As most humans would, you were trying to rationalize what was happening, both to figure out the situation you were in and also to reassure yourself, not wishing to imagine the worst yet. 

You observed your surroundings, in the hope to recognize something familiar, anything, really. Unfortunately, nothing was even moderately ordinary to you. All the trees were different, the plants growing around the place were unknown species, the color of the sky seemed odd along with the clouds, and even the calming smell of the forest seemed unusual. 

Around you, making a small imperfect circle of light, were light blue flowers glowing. At first, they were only a small number, but while you were distracted, they seemed to have multiplied and grown around you in a protective form. The sight was gorgeous, especially in the early afternoon, as it was the only source of light near you. 

But it didn’t erase a question from your mind… 

Where were you? 

Other than being lost, the main problem for you was the lack of human presence near this location. Not only this, but you were extremely uneasy with the lack of sounds, since you woke up the silence has never been broken once. 

Despite trying your best to pay attention to the possible surrounding noises, the silence remained loud, to the point you could not hear yourself breathe, even your heart beating inside your chest was quiet. It was clear that something was off, even if the world was completely silent, you should be able to hear yourself still. 

Perhaps, your ears were the problem. 

It was not only the sounds of the forest though, as you also couldn’t hear the wind making the leaves fall down to the ground, that soft whiz reaching your ears whenever the wind gets too strong. The creaking of branches under the paws of a wild animal, the buzzing of the insects, the chirping of the crickets, the songs of the owls, none of this was reaching your ears. 

As someone used to have continuous noises around him, even discreet ones, what was the most disturbing was the lack of voices. When usually, there was always someone talking or shouting in the background, currently, there wasn’t anyone breaking the silence. And you couldn’t help but miss the group of children running around and playing games loudly, or the group of elders talking about politics and gossiping about the new person moving into their building. For an unknown reason, it seemed so far away, as if you have been here for centuries. 

You had this sensation of emptiness, that not only you were lost in a random place, but lost in a vast nothingness. 

Except for you, there was just the emptiness of a place surrounding you, swallowing you whole and leaving nothing behind. The anxiety and a certain fear took over your body as if it was warning you that you were in danger. Still, that was ridiculous. As you were hyperaware of how lonely you were, you doubt anything could try to harm you. 

You really started to get worried, your hands trembled as you tried to get up, and suddenly, it was as if something was taken out of your ears. In an instant, you could hear absolutely everything, even your own blood flowing through your veins, the way your diaphragm was contracting and flattening, relaxing and returning to its original shape as you breathed rapidly. 

All the sounds at once were overwhelming, after the cacophony that your own body was producing, it was the forest that came alive all around you, each note penetrating through your unprepared mind. Instead of staying as a discord, they harmonized, and the sound of the wind passing through the leaves of the trees dragged the chirps of the birds along, and finally, your own breathing synchronized with the rest. 

After so long of being deprived of your hearing, you could feel your body relaxes as everything came back to you. Now, you will never be able to deny that pure silence was stressful, and perhaps maddening, while, the soft sounds of the world were soothing, melting away any kind of anxiety building up inside your body, from the unhealthy amount of panicked thoughts you have.

Now that you were able to comprehend all the things that were happening around you, without any difficulties or disadvantages, you sit up correctly. The flowers encircling you shine somewhat brighter, with your back resting against the trunk of an enormous tree, its roots crawling under the ground, following the path of the flowers. 

As the sun was high in the sky, with no clouds hiding it anymore, the branches of the tree moved, its leaves protecting you from the scorching light. It was very sudden, but a strange feeling ran through your body, an odd calmness taking over your senses. You were unable to focus on those overwhelming and stressful thoughts you had, your mind was blank as for the first time in a very long while, you felt at peace. 

Your body synchronized with the rhythm of the forest, and any ounce of anxiety you had dissipated like the morning dew after the first ray of sunlight appeared. Something in this place, in the air, was murmuring in your ear that you should not worry and just relax, how you could forget anything that was troubling you, as it was not meaningful anymore. 

It was as if the strangeness and importance of your current situation evaporated from your mind, as you were bathing like an Inteyvat in the sunlight. Your worries became details, something that was even worth wondering about. If it was not for a sudden loud voice, belonging to someone who seemed to shout from afar, you would have fallen asleep there, in this exact same spot. Unfortunately, the deafening and high-pitched voice shattered the calm of solitude you were in. 

There was something disturbing about this voice, the fact that it seemed highly familiar, not only the voice itself but also the way of talking. It was not a trick of your mind, whoever this person was, you were certain that you heard their voice somewhere.

While the scenery engulfing you was still just as foreign, this voice coming from an unnamed place was not, the tone definitely not unknown. And now, the person that appeared in front of you was even less of a mystery, as your eyes widened in shock, taking in the newfound information that could make the situation completely different. 

How could she be here? 

This person was standing on the other side of the forest, near the cliff, and she seemed like she didn’t notice you yet. You were on your guard, leaving your sitting position to a squatting position, still low enough to not be perceived, but also being able to run at any moment. Your entire body was tensed, not knowing if it was a hallucination, and you were losing it, or if it was real. 

The silhouette became clearer as she walked to the darkest part of the forest, which meant that she was going to pass just in front of you, and that was making you anxious. All the flowers around you were losing their light, becoming duller and duller, until they all died. The roots were rotten, emitting a putrid odor. When she ended up only a few meters away from you, all the surrounding nature was dead, leaving you confused and shocked.

She disappeared behind a tree, and you panicked, not understanding why she changed direction suddenly, in a swift and suspicious movement. You crouched down, looking at everything rapidly, checking if she was not going to appear near you. Suddenly, there was a flash of red clothes, and she was back on her original path, the neat headband bouncing as she walked, the uncommon goggles reflecting the sunlight. 

It was not just anybody, she was a person you know far too well, and that you definitely should not be seeing in front of your eyes right now, in any circumstances. It was the Outrider, Amber, from Genshin Impact. Before your very eyes, was a character of a video game, in flesh and bones, acting like a real human being, running around as if a program did not control her. 

If that was even slightly real, or somewhat linked to the game, it means that you are in Mondstadt right now. And you were watching Amber run around, doing her tasks and patrolling the area to prevent monsters to get too close to the city. Still, even with a relatively better understanding of your situation and location, it still made no sense. 

What was happening? How did you end up here? 

At that moment, it was like a switch in your brain, and you were only thinking about a way to get up and leave without being noticed. 

You did not even try to think about what could possibly be going on, or even try to conceive the most logical options for your current predicament. It was a raw reaction, the sudden odd fear of being caught by someone you had no trust in, in a place you did not have enough information about, and in a vulnerable state. 

Sensing you were panicking, you watched in shock as your hands were trembling like crazy, and how your vision was blurry, as your tension went through the roof. In this state, you knew you couldn’t do much, except panic more as Amber gets closer to your spot, so you tried the most basic exercise to take back control of your body. When your mind was clear enough, you decided to hide behind the tree instead of running away immediately, as the tree was large enough to conceal your presence, and also help you avoid a challenging encounter. 

With your back against the trunk, you placed a hand over your chest and the other on your stomach, feeling your heartbeat as you try to regulate your breathing. Your breaths were slower, and more relaxed as you closed your eyes and focused on slowly breathing in through your nose, with your mouth closed. You heard the footsteps of Amber coming closer, but you ignored them, only focusing on your body as you just prayed she would not notice you. 

It seemed endless before you heard another sound, much farther away from you. With a certain discomfort and the sensation of having a knot in your stomach, you try to peek at her carefully, making sure she really took some distance. 

When you were certain that she was far enough from you, you looked around to see the path you could take and bolted away without any thought, going towards this unidentified direction. Earlier, you tried to look at the sky, and guess where the north was, so you could avoid going to Mondstadt, but you could not find Polaris or the Plough. The only thing you could do was hope you were going somewhere near Dragonspine. 

Unfortunately, you understood you went in the wrong direction when you saw the massive oak tree at Windrise standing from afar. You did not want to go towards it, but at the same time, it could make a good starting point to go south after, so you ended up convincing yourself to walk toward it. As you stood in front of it, impressed by how gigantic and impressive it was in real life, you started to look around, quickly finding where was the city of freedom. 

You pondered for a while, unsure of what to do, and if trying to enter Mondstadt while looking like a total foreigner was really a good idea. Aether was only trusted because he came in with Amber, and also because he defeated Dvalin, which meant that you had no way of gaining their trust. Especially with nothing on you except your clothes, you won’t be able to defend yourself if something happens… It would be better to go somewhere else. 

Then, one question came to your mind.

Were the characters even speaking your language, or understanding it? 

If they did not… you will be in great trouble. 

You looked at the green bright leaves, admiring the way the sunlight shone through them, but you couldn’t help but sigh in misery. 

You were hit over the head with a sledgehammer, as you remembered how much knowledge you were lacking. You had absolutely no idea of what part of the storyline you were currently in, if anything at all around you was real or not, and if you had even an insignificant chance of surviving this world. Anything could come crashing down on you at any moment, and you could be already in trouble without even being aware of it. 

By only thinking about the negative and dangerous possibilities awaiting you after stepping into Mondstadt, unknowingly, you scared and convinced yourself that it was better to leave. Nodding your head to yourself, you admire the beautiful sight of the wind city before turning in the other direction. You stretched, letting a soft satisfied groan escape your lips, and after dusting off your pants from sitting on the ground for too long, you followed the path that you chose, which should let you towards the southwest. 

It may be the survival instinct or just the way any human was agitated while being in an unknown land, but it seemed like your brain was only focusing on a way to come through everything on your path. As you thought about what you were lacking, you envisaged how and where you could find a camp, so you could steal a weapon, along with collecting some food. After all, you are well aware that you will not survive for long if you have nothing yourself or any resources. 

As you walked, the path became thinner, the ground was not taken care of, and rocks along with cracks and fissures. You reached another small forest, and at the edge of it, you managed to distinguish a camp, with a small pile of twigs in the middle put on fire. Aware of how vulnerable you were, and not in a position of power, you decided to be sneaky about your attack.

It took a little less than an hour to reach the camp, a long time was spent analyzing your situation, checking how many hilichurls were in that camp, how many were armed, and who was the closest to you. You did not attack immediately, as you decided to be patient and whole strategy to get out of there unharmed. 

After gathering all your courage, and making sure it was realizable, you attacked the hilichurl that was the further away from the camp and the other monsters. You crouched and moved towards it, sneakily grabbing two rocks that were on the ground. You threw the first one away, so it could make a noise and distract the hilichurl, and used the other to hit it strongly at the back of the head. Not wanting to get caught by the rest of the camp, you grabbed the sword that fell on the ground and run away. 

Since then, a few days passed, and you managed to collect everything you needed. With your newfound weapon, you were now able to raid camps and take what you required, why or without using violence. It was weird, but a few times, the hilichurls would not attack you and simply let you take what you needed. 

By now, since you started imagining this fantasy world, three days passed. At least, the sun went down three times, though you had no idea for how long you have been stuck here. During those days, you managed to get better weapons, including the Light of Foliar Incision, which you certainly did not expect to find in a chest hidden in a crevice; and the Vortex Vanquisher, which you stole from a hilichurl which itself surely stole it. 

Also, you learned how to chase boars and catch fishes in nearby rivers. Your alimentation was mainly based on fruits, vegetables, and the few animals that you could find. Still following the path, you found a bag that was left abandoned on the side of the road, it was empty, except for a few moras. Without thinking much, you took it and used it to put your food in there, keeping the mora, and also some materials. 

Finally, you considered yourself ready and able to move out of this zone. Despite moving left and right, you always managed to fall back onto your original path, which would end up leading you to a certain city. You were convinced that with your current inventory, you would be prepared mentally and physically for anything that could happen. 

Though, until now, a detail escaped from your mind. As you were too focused on having higher chances of surviving, you completely forgot what were your worries in the first place… Which was, what happened and how you got stuck here. 

It’s not that you weren’t curious or confused, you were, extremely. But, it was as if something was clearing up your mind whenever you were thinking about it. As you were thinking about it, you felt a sudden pain in the back of your head, and in an instant, you forgot what you were thinking about. 

You stood there, silent, trying to remember what you were so concentrated on, but you seemed to not be able to find it. Sighing, you went back to walking, you passed through the forests, glades, the Windwail Highland, and the Dawn Winery, when finally you reached Bishui Plain. You really wanted to pass the Stone Gate before sunrise, and Dihua Marsh before noon. 

Standing on a cliff, you admired the scenery, the golden leaves of the tree were shining with the first ray of sunlight, and the most perfect green grass you have ever seen was swaying gently with the wind. From afar, you could admire the Wangshu Inn, but unfortunately, you had to speed up and not let yourself get distracted. You had only enough resources to last for a day or so, and you couldn’t afford to lose more time. So, you kept walking, shielding your eyes from the scorching sun, even though it was only the morning. 

You were extremely thankful that on the way, near the mountains of Bishui Plain; you were even lucky enough to cross paths with some merchants, from whom you bought a map with some of the mora that you found in the bag. This map not only allowed you to understand what was your exact location, but also the position of every shop, confirming if you were on the good path and showing the best spot to hunt. Yet, there was also none near your current location, you wished you took a break sooner.

Still, you couldn’t complain as the merchants were sympathetic enough to give you direction and even suggested accompanying you for a day or so, as they were going the same way. With them by your side, you walked through the mountains in record time, avoiding all the difficult and dangerous paths with their knowledge. You thanked the merchants multiple times before going on your way, more than indebted to their kindness. Also, you were especially pleased to learn that the people here were speaking your language, or at least a few of them were, so the language barrier was not going to be a problem. 

So, you went on your separate way with newfound knowledge, a better understanding of your current surroundings, and more resources, such as food and water. 

During such long journeys, it was not rare to start questioning yourself, your abilities, and your goal. And so, on your way, doubts consumed your mind. 

At first, you were heading towards Liyue with confidence, absolutely certain that you could, and would, reach your aim. But then, you couldn’t help but question your current situation, a recurrent question coming back: What was going on?, and, Since when reaching Liyue become such an important objective for you? 

It was sudden, but it was something you did not think about deeply before. Interrogating yourself on how you ended up in this situation, the details that were flying away from your mind finally came back. 

You were not just traveling, you were on a journey, going through places that you were perfectly aware did not exist in your world. You were hallucinating, or daydreaming perhaps, imagining yourself in a fantasy world. Then, it hit you like a ton of bricks, it was not your reality, you were dreaming. 

Nothing around you was real, it was just coming out of your imagination, the details caused by the hours you spent on that game. It was so logical, and yet you did not think about it before. The thought that everything was fictional and fantastic weirdly reassured you, as you understood that you had never been in danger, since it was a reverie. You had no reason to be preoccupied with hunger, dehydration, or even afraid of hilichurls. 

Until then, you were attacking the camps to survive, but you weren’t in a troublesome situation, so was it really useful? If you were simply lost in your subconscious, none of your actions regarding your supposed ‘survival’ were needed anymore.

It was with newfangled determination and confidence that you walked towards Liyue, not fearing anything or anyone. 

The apprehension and dread of dying, getting attacked, or being hurt held no power, the apprehension was nonexistent in your system. It was just a small detail. Still, you refused to always act recklessly all the time, you weren’t brainless and preferred to avoid too dangerous areas. You would survive either way, but suffering even for a short amount of time was not on your plan. Instead, you would get into fights you only knew you could win, yes you acquired some scars and bruises, but you also gained a better ability to fight, defend, and block, along with more flexibility and agility. 

It was not completely bad. 

Still, you learned that the pain was very much real, and after a few confrontations with numerous hilichurls, you concluded that it was better to take care of yourself. Even if nothing was real, the sensations, and emotions were, and you had to try your best to avoid getting hurt. It also made you come to another conclusion, which was that you shouldn’t get too close to powerful or dangerous characters. 

It would be a shame for your dream to end just because you were being too curious. 

After fighting with hilichurls many times, your clothes were ruined and some of your wounds couldn’t be cleaned, so you hoped to cross paths with another group of merchants, but it did not happen, unfortunately. You had to patch yourself up with what you could find, and hoped you will find a doctor in Liyue, other than Baizhu, since you shouldn’t get too close to known characters. 

Two days passed, and you were at the end of the Guili Plains, which was a pain to walk through, as there was a lack of vegetation and a place to hide from the sun. But it was granting you direct access to Liyue Harbor, so you just speed through this zone. Finally seeing the end near the middle of the night, you were too tired to continue walking, so you hid behind a rock and slept for some hours. 

It is only when you woke up, in the middle of the morning, almost noon that you noticed that you were finally able to get a glimpse of Liyue Harbor’s buildings from afar. It gave you an energy boost, as you jumped on your feet and took a rapid walking pace. 

As you keep going forward, you are able to admire more of the magnificent city, the green roofs shining through the air, and the sky, seeming to come out of a dream. It was such luck that you reached the city in the middle of the city when the sun was the highest in the sky, and the rays of light were shining through the clouds in a beautiful golden hue. 

Much to your pleasure, that resplendent glow was making everything sparkle, the emerald green roofs brighten, and the orange ones turn into a sweet shiny merigold color. The wondrous sight temporarily blinded you, hardly letting you able to admire the glimpse of what could be the calmest and most relaxing place you ever went to. Such a sight could be considered a blessing. 

Which each step you were taking, the light was getting more blazing and radiant, Liyue Harbor was giving off an atmosphere rich in luxury, and a sunny ambiance, even from afar. It was very impressive and imposing, the height of the building and the overall aura made you feel so small and powerless. It became even stronger when you reached the edge of the city, forced to stop at the entrance to process everything.

It was as if time froze, you stood there in awe, silently trying to take in the entire view, admiring each small detail that made the ambiance and buildings seem to come out of precious stones. 

Captivated by the climate and feel, you completely ignored the people around you to call over a small, cute cat, petting it for a while. As it purred and pushed its head against your hand, completely hogging your attention, the locals were observing you. Despite being used to seeing tourists get shocked by the architecture, they have rarely seen someone in such awe to the point they remained frozen and speechless. 

Some people were looking at you up and down, a group of women was chuckling while observing you, and some elders were glaring at your person and especially at your choice of outfit. If you ever wished to go unnoticed, you definitely failed.

It wasn’t surprising that you were drawing every person your way, as everything about you was standing out. Your foreign features were intriguing, along with your impressive height and build, which made most people curious and fascinated. Your face, the small and bigger scars littered over your body, your weird and ripped clothes along with your way of moving, keep catching the attention of any passer-by. 

For many, you were captivating, not only for your looks but also for the strange atmosphere floating around you. It was like waves, a translucent smoke coming out one by one, floating before vanishing into thin air. Only a few were able to see it, all of them had small glowing gems encased in a decorative design, the rest could only feel a certain difference in the air. 

Meanwhile, you were still completely lost in your thoughts, mindlessly petting the cute cat, which was soon joined by two dogs and another cat. Wondering about what you could do while being in Liyue, where to sleep, get food, and perhaps the places you could visit? You couldn’t help but be extremely curious about the characters that you could meet here, but you tried to convince yourself to keep feeling for yourself and stay away. 

You had to act oblivious, as if you knew nothing about their identities of them, and any other NPC. You needed to behave like a normal tourist. 

For now, you did not encounter any important character except for Amber, and you were just as glad as you were disappointed. It was incredible to have a vivid dream, and yet, you could not enjoy it to its full extent, which was extremely frustrating. By interacting with any character you knew, or your favorite ones, you would risk panicking and possibly dying if you let out pieces of information you shouldn’t know. 

Even though you hated acting like an oblivious person, you knew it was for the best. After all, it was still just a dream or hallucination, and you will surely not remember when you wake up. It is acceptable to make one or two mistakes by talking to a character, but you should not cross the line and keep yourself in check. 

Since you did not know how far you were in the storyline, you were scared of the fact that you could blur out something that did not happen yet. And you had no idea how a character could react, so you did not want to say something that would lead you to your dreamed death. 

You were so deep into your own mind that you did not sense the person standing next to you, unaware as they try to get your attention. They seemed to have tried calling you multiple times, and patting you on the shoulder until they finally lost patience and held your forearm, nails lightly pushing into your skin. When they were certain that they had your attention, since your head snapped up but not in their direction, they asked you designless questions. The person just managed to snap you out of your focused state, but you were still figuring out what you could do or not do before really realizing that someone was talking. 

At first, you thought they were someone who helps tourists and perhaps wanted to be your guide, but when their hand started to caress your arm and flirted with you, your conclusion flew out the window. You couldn’t deny that someone touching you without asking, and especially in this way, was pissing you off, but you did not want to make a scene… As gently as you could, you removed their hands from you, giving them a tense and fake smile. You stood up, taking a few steps back, trying to ease the awkward tension by asking them if they knew any good hotel you could stay at. 

Your level of annoyance went through the roof when they suddenly brightened up. They were squeezing your forearm as they giggled and blushed while trying to sneak their other arm around your waist, pointing at a love hotel not far from here. Your blood was boiling as you could not even comprehend how someone could be so crude and shameless. The remaining of your patience disappeared, and you pushed them away rather harshly. You told them with repulse in your voice that you just wanted to have a play to stay at tonight, and certainly did not want to them again in any way. 

You may have talked more loudly than intended, since you felt many eyes on you, the nearest people observing the scene but not doing anything. A few elders were whispering to themselves, their eyes darting from the unknown person to you, and you felt irked when they concluded that you were the rude one since you were a foreigner. 

But before you could try to defend yourself, an elder woman stepped in, walking towards you slowly before patting your back. She loudly scolded the rude person, saying she saw everything, and they should be ashamed of jumping on a lost tourist. She told them to go away and leave you alone, before showing you the direction to two different hotels that were well-known in the city. Kindly suggesting you a few places to shop at, and what part of the city you needed to avoid. 

Genuinely glad, you bowed and thanked her for the kind help, also offering compensation for taking some of her time, but she refused. The older woman just asked you to help her walk home, as she didn’t need anything else. By now, the other person bothering you disappeared from the scene. 

All the attention shifted away from you, and the group of elders looked away in embarrassment, leaving without saying another word. Bidding the woman goodbye, you were left to enjoy the peaceful atmosphere of the afternoon again. 

At least, it would have been the case, if someone else was not set on disturbing you one more time. This person was staring at you intensely, their focus was not wavering, even for a second. Their gaze was penetrating your body, setting it on fire, seeming to observe every detail and write down absolutely everything that they could notice about you. 

It was extremely disturbing and distracting. 

Your head was set ablaze at first, your torso following suit as the fire on the back of your head died down, and finally, your stomach was reduced to ashes. This pressure coming from a simple look was sending chills up your spine, it seemed like this person was trying to kill you with their eyes only. 

When the weight of their stare became unbearable, your entire body turned to ashes which were scattered by the wind, reduced to nothing by this unknown person. Driven by confusion and discomfort, you turned in the direction the glare was coming from, staring at this person straight in the eyes, burning rage and perplexity behind your pupils. You certainly did not expect to see him, and you froze when you recognized him, body paralyzed by fear and awe.

A tall man,

With short messy hair, and blue eyes fixated on yours…

The 11th Harbinger, 

Childe.

Your previous thoughts came back to you, you were aware that you should act like nothing happen, ignore that important, dangerous, and charismatic character. You should avoid eye contact, as you had no chance to win against him, it would be impossible to lie in front of someone as clever as Childe. It was logical that you should settle on smiling innocently and leave as fast as possible, protect yourself and take some distance, but your body refused to move. 

The gears inside your mind were working crazily, even if you managed to successfully run away, nothing could guarantee that it would be enough to save yourself. Childe was much more dangerous than any other character, just how bad was your luck?

Perhaps it was because of the anxiety taking over your body, or the lack of options you could envisage in this situation, but you threw everything out the window. How could you just let a simple character in a stupid dream ruin your fun? 

You were not just going to accept it. 

Childe did not seem to get distracted by anything… The people walking past you and breaking your eye contact for a short instant, the chirping of the birds, the wind sneaking into your clothes and sending glacial up your spine, making its scarf in his face. Despite everything, his staring did not stop even once, his eyes’ color seeming to only get darker and duller by the second. 

He wasn’t fixated on only one part of your face, but also letting his eye glide, wander, over your body. There was a sudden stop when he reached the clear marks of fighting, the few bruises and cuts, the long scar you got across your abdomen, along with the spots where your clothes weren’t covering your skin anymore. He seemed unbothered, but you could see the twitching of his hands, the anxious darting of his eyes, the way his jaw clenched, and his lips were tightly held together. 

It was weird how you didn’t feel like you were in danger, despite looking at a man that surely killed in cold blood many people, and never felt any regret. It was as if you were getting analyzed by a predator, which was chasing his potential prey, trying to find their weak spot. 

Unfortunately for Childe, you are a stubborn man and certainly won’t let anyone try to devour you. Clicking your tongue, you stepped forward, looking down at the smaller man in an overconfident manner. Now able to stare at Childe right in the eyes, you distinguished how his composure faltered for a second, but the next one, he was back to his impassive and frightening attitude again. 

You stared at each other in an odd and tense silence, neither of you looking away, even though you almost did a few times, since bright butterflies kept flying around you and resting on your shoulders or hands. You had to concentrate, so you wouldn’t be tempted to look at their beautiful wings, while you could see that Childe struggled with the extra movement, but he still refused to be the first one to show some weakness. It was childish, but you were both stubborn. 

As you grew tenser, his gaze became colder and colder, seeming to freeze you on the stop, unlike before as you felt like you were burned to the ground. You could feel a certain form of danger coming closer, the breath of the wolf hitting your face as he opened wide to rip your head off. It was confusing, was Childe trying to warn you, threatening you, or simply entertaining himself? You couldn’t tell, and it was playing with your emotions. 

After a while, it was clear that this exchange could last for hours, and far wishing to stay here much longer, you gave up first. There was surely another way to distract or mock him before leaving, and so, you had the dumbest idea. That’s how you thoughtlessly teased the Harbinger.  

With the most lustful gaze that you could execute, you meet his eyes for a short instant, slowly and barely blinking. Letting a sweet smile appear on your face, you let your eyes run over his body, stopping at random spots such as his shoulders, waist, or thighs. You admired every curve and visible scar, stopping for long seconds at the skin his gray jacket was not covering. Maybe you got a bit too carried away, as you couldn’t take your eyes off his waist and thighs, his silhouette was captivating, to say the least. 

Your competitive mind turned into something much more… unholy. 

Getting carried away, you didn’t notice the way he was rubbing his thighs together or the sudden change in expression on his face, his mask breaking slowly. You snapped out of it when you notice how red his cheeks have become, your composure faltered for an instant, and you had to focus on going back to your previous act as you meet his eyes one last time. Acting confident, you gave him a discreet smirk before wetting your lips, Childe following the movement of your tongue with strong interest, feeling like he’s the one being hunted.

While he was distracted, you took it as an opportunity to leave. Far from caring about the annoying person from earlier, which was trying to follow you discreetly with doe eyes, you walked rapidly, wanting to reach a hotel while you still could. Childe’s eyes did not leave your back until you disappear into another street, away from him. 

The next hour was spent trying to find one of the hotels the elder woman mentioned, relax, and take care of anything that should be considered urgent. Much to your pleasure, you found out it was a really good hotel, and thankfully not too expensive, affordable for someone in your situation, in other words. Even better, the receptionist didn’t judge or questioned you about your choice of clothes and the few wounds, instead, they were kind enough to give you a first aid kit, along with recommending a local doctor. It was even more appreciated, as you couldn’t just go see Baizhu, he was far too clever. 

Taking the key and giving the receptionist the money, you went to the room, which was more than okay for the price you paid. You left everything you had inside your hotel room, only keeping some money, so you could get a change of clothes immediately, and go see that local doctor. 

Visiting the city, you noticed that except for a minor number of luxurious and expensive stores, everything else was rather affordable, far from overpriced. Taking the time to find what could suit you the best within your budget, a budget that wasn’t even yours to begin with… you choose simple but beautiful clothes, which seemed to take inspiration from the hanfu. You bought a dark shade of blue along with a few touches of gray that suited your skin color perfectly, and without making you stand out too much. 

The sweet lady taking care of the shop was kind enough to help you pick out an outfit that was within your range of price, and that could fit your bigger build. It was something you could notice quickly when you enter Liyue, most people rarely reach your shoulder, and you saw no one yet who was the same size as you. After your purchase, and changing immediately after, you left looking much more elegant and spotless, definitely satisfied. 

Listening to the receptionist and their precise advice, you went to the nearest doctor’s office and pharmacy, following the indication they gave you. Even though you were tempted to go to the Bubu pharmacy, you didn’t want this dream to end yet, so you stayed away.

Instead, you went to a normal doctor, which made a very good job, trying their best to take care of the nastiest wounds on the spot. Finally, none of your wounds were hurting or bleeding anymore, and they were kind enough to give you everything you needed to keep taking care of any minor injuries for almost nothing. 

Feeling worn out, you stopped at a cheap restaurant, not far from the Wanmin restaurant, run by Xiangling’s father. During your days in the wild, you learned how to do various dishes and your cooking was great, but it didn’t alter the fact that eating at a restaurant was always much tastier. You never thought that Zhongyuan Chop Suey or the Vegetarian Abalone could be this good.

When everything you had to do was finally over with, you were able to rest in your hotel room, thanking the receptionist on the way. Held by the golden hue, you slept the afternoon away, engulfed in the warm and soft sheets. 

It was weird to be in bed and try to sleep while knowing you were currently hallucinating or in a dream already, but that could explain why you fell into a dreamless sleep, swallowed by nothingness. Still, the sensation was unusual, and you couldn’t help but wonder for how long you’d been sleeping and why this dream is so vivid. 

Deep down, you started to doubt if it was really a dream, or if you were just hallucinating… The sensations and feelings were so real it was overwhelming. That’s why you promised yourself to be careful just in case, even though you knew it was impossible to wake up in an entirely different world just like that.

When you woke up, it was the evening already, the sun was almost completely down, and the streets were already busy with younger people. Still, it was surprising how relatively quiet it was despite how many people were outside. 

You observed them from your window, admiring the colorful wave of people, feeling attracted to this joyfulness. Not seeing any harm in going out and having some fun instead of waiting for the night to pass, certainly bored and without anything to do, you left your room. You showered before exiting the hotel, letting yourself get lost in the streets and get dragged away by unknown people. You ended up conversing with people you had no idea what were their names, where you were, or how you got here. 

You drank one glass after the other, getting yanked into a new group of people, being drawn left and right until you found the perfect one, which was really friendly and refused to let you go. Spending more time with them, it seemed like they already considered you as a member of their friends’ group. And so, you found yourself following this group of people as they were going to a bar, arguing about which one was the greatest. 

You weren’t so thrilled at the idea of going out to another place that was unknown, especially as you already were a tad tipsy, and it was not safe to end up completely drunk here. You knew how wild it can be at the end of the night, and you prefer still being able to think properly. 

Yet, when you saw how everyone was disappointed when you said no, the guilt ate you up, and you felt bad for ruining their mood, so you ended up going with them anyway. But, you did warn them that you would not be drinking more than a glass, and they seemed to agree, seeming to not want to finish the night wasted too. 

Unsurprisingly, this dreamy week has been hellish for you, between the fights, the resources you had to collect, and the wounds you couldn’t patch up, you were exhausted. You really needed to relax, so this night was one of the best opportunities to, and at worst, you could just go back to your hotel room if you were too tired or not feeling well.  

The idea of getting wasted while being in a dream sounded especially stupid, so you promise that you will be careful and keep track of your consumption. 

Letting your new friends guide you, walking through the streets, seeming endless while you were having fun and forgetting everything. Despite laughing and joking around, there was still a shadow on the back of your mind, taunting you. 

The encounter from earlier did not want to leave your memory, you could still feel the eyes, the pressure, and the tension. Even though you were certain that you would not cross paths with Childe again, something kept bothering you, the ghost of a hand wrapping around your neck and then caressing your cheek gently. 

One of your new friends had to pat you on the shoulder to make you snap out of your paranoid state, only to tell you that you reached the bar, and the rest was already inside. The man beside you laughed at your evident confusion, and he guided you inside without another word, ignoring the chill going up his spine when he touched you. Suddenly, he felt threatened and hunted by something with a terrifying aura. 

Pushing the door open, you were met with loud cheering and low music. The man beside you stopped and looked up, trying to find where this weird sensation of being observed came from. To his surprise, everyone was doing their own thing and not paying attention to you two at all. 

Confused, he glanced back at you, but you didn’t stop unlike him, and were already at the table with the other guys. 

That was the good option, as he should have done the same and followed you immediately, instead of letting himself get distracted. He felt someone grab his wrist and yank him outside without giving him a choice, shoving a sharp object in his stomach the moment they were far away. 

The world became blurry, but he was able to see blue piercing eyes before everything went black. 

Meanwhile, you sat down with the others, completely forgetting about the guy, as you just thought he found someone to spend the night with or something similar. You were enjoying yourself until your small group became too loud as time went on, the noise being brutal on your poor ears. 

You felt your head being split open by the loud voices and the music in the background, creating a cacophony that couldn’t bear anymore. Instead of complaining, you got up silently and went to the counter, which was less crowded and far from the music. Nodding at the person next to you out of politeness, you weren’t planning to talk to them at all. 

Set on just getting a drink and relaxing before joining the group once again, you blocked out any superficial noise, ignoring the people trying to get close to you or buy you a drink. You wouldn’t even notice them, and if you did, waving them off was a clear enough message to be left alone. 

Much to your pleasure, the barman seemed to get the hint that you weren’t up to a discussion; So he left you alone, only interacting with you when taking your order, and he nicely let you enjoy your drink in peace. With a sweet smile professional smile, he would check on you from time to time, sliding a glass of water your way when he felt like it was needed. 

As time passed, you were less and less tempted to join your previous group again, which seemed to have gotten bigger and louder after you left. You felt well in your place, just sitting at the counter and relaxing, enjoying the drinks. Each drop was comfortingly burning your throat, swallowing the intoxicating liquor almost gratefully, sensing the way it was running down your trachea.

None of the drinks you tried had the taste of something you ever savored before, as it was something that only existed inside your dream and nowhere else. Or perhaps, you were just too tipsy to really feel the flavor and mix of alcohol that you were trying. 

As the moon became more visible, more people started to come to you, either trying to start a conversation or sitting down beside you and flirting. Most would give up the second you glared at them, more stubborn ones would try to pay for your drink but would get the hint rapidly, while some others seemed to never know when to stop. Thankfully, the barman was nice enough to drive away the most persistent and rude ones. 

For long minutes, you were left alone, until the chair beside you was drawn back. It was also moved closer to yours by the unknown person, and you couldn’t help but feel annoyed. Since they didn’t know you have been hit on too many times tonight, it was not their fault, but you couldn’t help but feel your patience run out. Annoyance was spreading through your body like wildfire. 

Expecting another annoying person, you glared at them, definitely not thinking you would see him. With an amused smirk on his face, Childe raised his eyebrow while observing you, motioning for the barman to get you another drink. The man glanced at you, wary, making sure that you did not mind. 

You sighed and nodded, Childe letting out a chuckle at the small movement, seeming diverted by what was happening. Though, his smirk disappeared as quickly as it appeared when someone tapped on his shoulder, by their way of speaking, it was clear they were pissed off. 

If you were at this person’s place, you would be frightened to death by the bloody glare he showed them, you feel your body freeze and a chill of terror go up your spine.

You watched as the gorgeous woman was complaining and accusing Childe of stealing her seat. She looked at you with doe eyes, almost managing to melt your heart, asking you to back her up. Did she expect you to lie just because she was pretty? If you were completely honest, it was so close to work, but Childe’s murderous aura was more powerful. 

Staring back at her with empty eyes, you kept sipping on your drink, the alcohol as burning as Childe’s gaze. Rapidly, the woman grew uncomfortable and scared, understanding that you weren’t going to help her, even with her flirting. 

You turned away before you could see her unhinged and disappointed glare, gritting her teeth as if she wanted to make you her next victim. At that moment, she almost completely forgot about Childe, which was the one she was mad at in the first place. Feeling uncomfortable, you were going to leave the bar, but the Harbinger placed his hand on your thigh, grip tightening whenever you tried to get up. 

From your peripheral vision, you could still see her tap on Childe’s shoulder, almost shaking him while cursing under her breath. It seemed like she was not going to give up any time soon, you threw a glance over your shoulder at the barman, who was already busy with someone else. 

Fearing for the woman’s life, you glanced at them only to notice that Childe was not even paying attention to her. During all this time, his eyes were fixated on you and his reactions. He keeps looking at you with those empty and dull eyes, or at least, that’s what they are supposed to be, because you could perceive something deeper inside of them that you couldn’t identify. 

With his elbow propped on the counter, his head resting on the palm of his hand, Childe tilted his head up when you made a gesture towards the barman, explaining the situation.

At the sound of your voice, he was unable to hide his smirk. He seemed to drink up every one of your words like honey, taking in every detail about you, feeling his legs bounce in excitement. Something was drawing him in, urging Childe to keep you close, touch you, and push every single one of those people away from you. 

Yet, he made an effort, and let you talk to the barman in peace. Still, Childe was annoyed that you didn’t just ask him to take care of that woman. 

His smirk turned even more disturbed when he saw the barman get around the counter and put the nuisance back in her place. The barman’s tone left no space for complaints, and she had to give up. More than entertained by the situation, Childe watched her walk away, not able to resist sending her a proud and mocking glance, seeming to crave a fight. 

And maybe also, he hated how she has been around you since you entered the bar. Thankfully, he did not have to take care of the group you were in before, since they were staying away. 

Now left completely alone together, you were surprised to not feel threatened by his presence, even while being this close to Childe. Yes, something definitely felt wrong, but Childe did not try anything yet and was acting rather friendly with you. In a certain way, you almost felt safe since he was here. 

While he was distracted by what just happened, you took the time to observe him carefully, as you did not have the time until now. In silence and without a care for anything else but him, you admire how perfectly realistic he was, based on the game’s information you knew. From his hair to his face, everything was similar and matching, except for a few details… such as the multiple small scars littering the side of his neck and face, along with the freckles all over his skin. 

Childe was absolutely beautiful, as alluring as intimidating. 

Observing him from head to toe, you notice the lack of his fatui mask and any design or symbol reminding you of his title. You admired his outfit, the gray putting all the spotlight on his hair and eyes, and you could not deny that he was intriguing and mysterious. His earring seemed to hypnotize you, despite not moving, it kept catching your attention every time you glanced up. 

It took you a few minutes to notice that Childe completely stopped moving, and when you looked up, you saw him smiling at you mockingly. The embarrassment of getting caught staring at him washed over you, the heat spreading through your chest. You were forced to look away, unable to maintain eye contact, as you finished your glass in one go to forget it. 

You could still feel his gaze on you, teasing you while feeling proud in a certain way. Wanting to distract him from your awkwardness, you made a sigh to the barman, asking him to serve the two same drinks. You hoped that Childe would just take the glass and leave, but at the same time, deep down, you wanted him to stay and enjoy his presence; Despite the fact that you weren’t supposed to interact with him in the first place. 

In a strange way, you had no idea how to act with Childe, his presence alone left you in a constant state of confusion and amazement. The bouncing of his legs attracted your attention, noticing how he was not relaxed at all, his body being tensed since earlier as if he was ready to jump. 

… Was he planning something? 

For an unknown reason, you suddenly felt really anxious, and you discreetly moved your chair away, not missing Childe’s hand trying to grab the side of your chair. Thankfully, at that same moment, the barman came back with two glasses, placing them in front of both of you. 

You planned to finish yours in one go, pay for the drinks immediately, and leave, but it seemed like Childe would not let you disappear that easily. As you took the money out, your wrist was gently pushed down against the counter and Childe paid for you, just in front of your face. You froze, dumbfounded, and the barman was just as surprised, but he took the money without a word. 

To say you were confused was an understatement. Sure, Childe was not always evil and planning something, but he was not an overly kind man paying for everybody. Especially since you were a stranger that weirdly and openly stared at him twice, brought him in trouble with an unknown woman, and is extremely awkward around him to the point it’s exceedingly suspicious. 

Though, he was not any less shady. The fact that he ended up in the same bar as you, sitting beside you on purpose, and seemed to be entertained by anything you did, was much worse than your own behavior. 

With a sigh, you just grabbed your drink and chucked it down, wanting to get out of there as fast as possible. But when your throat started to painfully burn along with your tongue which seemed to be on fire, you rethink your life decisions, and your ability to think properly. 

You should have checked how strong the drink you ordered was, instead of just pointing to the first one you saw, because your throat definitely hates you now. And in addition to all the previous drinks you got, it may be the last straw to your sanity. Concealing your reaction to the painful sensation was a real challenge, you suddenly felt weird when you got up. 

Your head was spinning, heat spreading under your skin and your throat was begging for some relief. Before you could walk away, Childe ordered another set of drinking, patting your chair with a smile. That took you aback, you hesitated, but you were also curious about how the situation would turn out. You may be able to handle your alcohol quite well, usually at least, but you already drank a lot… You had no idea how much Childe could handle, and how many glasses you were away from getting drunk.

Your intoxicated mind discarded any warnings and worries, eyes not focusing on the shining red blade in his pocket, or the few drops of blood staining the bottom of his pants. Before you knew it, you were sitting down and letting Childe choose and order more drinks, one after the other. A little game also started between you, alternately choosing the next cocktail or strong alcohol you would share, testing the other’s taste and limits. 

After all, you were both foreigners… in a way, so you were mostly discovering. 

One from Snezhnaya, and the other from another world, just dreaming or hallucinating, and enjoying himself. This information seemed to fly out of your system, becoming just a useless detail that did not matter. 

Drink after drink, your tongues loosened, and you talked more or less freely to each other. With a nonexistent language barrier and no care for manners, or the fact that you were complete strangers, you speak more than you should. Enjoying yourselves as if you were long-time friends, exchanging life stories and some classified information. Childe even talked about the Fatui, mentioning the other Harbingers and details about their personalities, without saying their name. 

He even rambled about his family and the memories he shares with them, telling more about his little brothers and sister. Also mentioning how he hoped you could meet them one day. 

“I know they would adore you…”

The night went on, seeming to be endless, whenever he would stop talking, it was almost unconscious, but you would take over the rambling. Never were you bored or tempted to leave after that, Childe was a fantastic drinking buddy, you could give him that. 

Surprisingly, your good time was never interrupted by anyone. Especially by another person trying to flirt with you. With Childe by your side, most people did not dare to step any closer, and the crazy ones who were tempted to go frightened immediately. At least, his intimidating aura was useful, as it was guaranteeing you a peaceful and joyful night, so you couldn’t complain about it. 

Despite your more-than-tipsy state, you were not completely oblivious or unable to think, and conscious enough to avoid making any mistakes… such as using his name, as he never introduced himself properly, any details about his life or his friends, which would be the worst mistakes you could ever make. 

Until now, you are convinced that you never slipped up and would remain alive after this night. Or at least, you hoped you will. 

You have no idea how long you stayed with him, but when you looked outside the window, the moon was already high in the sky and most people left the bar. It was much calmer, the barman played relaxing music as most customers were too tired to dance and shout anymore, some were passed out, and the rest were talking calmly. 

With fewer people around you, Childe seemed to relax and not be on guard anymore, speaking in a charming voice while getting physically closer to you. 

Turns out Childe was not any better than the rest of the people who tried to hit on you tonight, and he was perhaps even worse as he was being sneaky about it. Though you could not deny that he was extremely attractive, and was not leaving you uninterested, as much as he was threatening. 

You noticed how he was slowly inching closer and closer, by either moving his chair or using the excuse of being too far to hear you, as if your legs weren’t almost touching. His eyes refused to separate from your figure, always looking at you up and down when he thought you weren’t looking. His eyes were so piercing it gave you the same sensation as if his hands were on you, or a knife. 

If a stare could burn, your entire body would be reduced to ashes by now. 

There was also the way his hand kept moving towards your leg, and when he was finally able to reach your knee, Childe could not help but move his hand up. The soft feeling of his thumb caressing the upper part of your thigh sends a delicious chill up your spine until they got too close to your crotch, but thankfully not crossing the line yet. 

Childe even suggested showing you around the city the next day, as it was your first time in Liyue Harbor. Proudly claiming that there was no better guide than him around the place. For him, that was overly nice. It confirmed all your doubts, something that was troubling from the start, the way Childe was so out of character. 

The way his dull blue eyes were turning brighter whenever he was looking at you, how they seemed to sparkle with mischief and some kind of heat. It was as if he was burning from the inside. This unusual glint shining through his eyes seemed to call for you, even more messing up with your mind. 

A good hour passed, and everyone around you was completely wasted, only you and Childe were still looking alive and breathing. He tried to offer you one more drink, but you knew it would be betting with the devil. You were feeling sick and hot earlier, now your organs turned to ashes and your throat was completely numb, even your taste buds got washed away. 

With a groan, you shook your head, claiming that it was over for the night, and you should both go home safe, and avoid being sick the next morning. His expression seemed to turn dark for a second, before going back to his friendly and easy personality. 

Knowing he could be able to convince you to stay more if he insisted, you got up immediately, leaving your half-full glass on the counter. Playing enough mora down to pay for the last drinks Childe did not pay yet, you thanked the barman and went away. You couldn’t help but give Childe a victorious smile when the barman took the money before he could do anything. 

When you noticed how he swayed while getting up, you couldn’t conceal your chuckle, helping him to get up. Grabbing him by the arm when he stumbled to the left, stabilizing him, he completely face-planted into your chest. You held him until you were certain he could walk correctly, leaving the bar together and bidding him goodbye immediately, preventing him to say anything. 

He seemed really disappointed as he grabbed your shoulder, bringing you closer as he suggested walking home together, but you refused again. The tension in the air increased and then disappeared just as quickly. With a sigh, Childe nodded and gave you a weak smile, waving as you walked away. 

But what was suspicious and confusing, was when you turned into an alley… and he was still standing there, watching over you with a weird look in his eyes.

Your suspicion was confirmed when you heard footsteps behind you, light enough, so a drunk person could not perceive them. Unfortunately for Childe, you knew how to act drunk pretty well, and you were certainly not stupid enough to just get wasted with a complete stranger, which you were aware was dangerous on top of that. 

You tried to remain calm, ignoring the way he was sneaking behind you as if he was your shadow, hiding whenever you seemed to slow down or get distracted. For now, he wasn't making a move to attack you, but you couldn't relax while knowing he could be planning to kill you. 

It was confusing, as you were certain you made no mistake, so he had no reason to act this way. With each step, you were trembling and hoping he would give up, and you almost had a heart attack when someone came out of a nearby alley, which was completely dark. 

The person apologized when they saw your frightened expression, their voice, and face seems familiar, but you were too tense to pay more attention. Reassuring the person that everything was already, you walked away quickly without wasting a second, putting as much distance as possible between Childe and you. 

It turned out to be useless, as within a few seconds, he was already back behind you. Powerless, you let him follow you, slowly and creepily. Knowing it would not work to just run away as fast as you could, you focused all your attention on finding a way to trick him. 

When finally, a dumb idea but possibly your best option sneaked its way into your head.

You kept moving, purposely slowing down or making it seems like you couldn't walk in a straight line. You took two breaks on the way, so you could focus on your breathing and trying to stay calm. You wanted to make sure you wouldn't panic, but also test if he was going to jump on you the second you stop walking.

And despite the numerous times when you were in a vulnerable situation, he didn't do anything, so you assumed that he was going to follow you to the place you were staying at. Which, wasn't good news either.

When you reached the hotel, the receptionist was not there, unfortunately, so you had to keep going. You had hoped for a moment that someone would be here, and they could help you hide, but luck was not on your side. You would be by yourself, definitely, with Childe coming for you.

You acknowledged how his footsteps seemed to be farther away, as he was surely analyzing the environment, and see if he could get noticed. So you took it as an opportunity to walk faster up the stairs, hoping it would give you some time to set up your backup plan, since you had no one you could ask for help to.

Reaching your room, you unlocked the door before closing it behind you, without locking it again, knowing Childe could break it down easily if he wanted to. You had some time ahead of you, since you rushed up the stairs, and he will surely keep being as careful as he was before, so it gives you a few minutes.

Since you were drunk, not locking the door could pass as a mistake in your intoxicated state. And also, in case he really breaks in, it could explain why you did not wake up while he tried to enter, since he made no sound. If he were to kick the door open, even drunk, it would be suspicious if you weren't woken up by the noise. And that would ruin your plan.

That was risky, but it could also work out well for you.

As you went through the small apartment, you purposely made more racket, as a drunk person would, bumping into furniture, and leaving your shoes in the middle of the corridor.

While doing so, you also pushed one of the pieces of furniture in the living room near the corner, so you could have a space to hide in. The shadow should cover you, and with the angle, if the door gets open, it should not reveal your location.

You moved audibly for a few more minutes, taking pillows from the living room and putting them under the blanket on your bed. You hoped it would trick him if Childe never turn the light on, and he would take some time to understand it was not you. Finally, you turned all the lights off, and closed the door of your bedroom, as it was the only one making a sound when it moved, Childe could guess you went inside there last.

Then, you walked discreetly towards the little hiding spot you made, glad your socks were concealing the sound of your footsteps.

Back in the small living room, you sat down in the corner, hiding behind the largest furniture of in the room, as it covered most of your build when you forced your knees against your chest. Exhaling and inhaling deeply, you slowed down your breathing and tried to relax as much as you could, holding the rolling pin you found in the kitchen.

With apprehension, you keep an eye on the door, convinced that Childe would try to enter the apartment soon enough.

It seemed like you were right as after long and tense minutes of pure silence, you heard the handle crack as it was moved down.

Instead of immediately entering, Childe waited and was making sure that you were actually sleeping, listening to see if there was any noise, or anyone coming from the stairs. When he was sure the coast is clear, he hoped the door opened silently, and the light coming from the corridor shone through the room.

Thankfully, it was not bright and strong enough to reveal your hiding spot. Still, you forced yourself to not make any movements, as you feared getting his attention now. You had to stay still for a little longer, and everything would go well, at least you hope it will.

The quiet steps of the 11th Harbinger were resonating through the almost empty room, slow and calculated, recognizing the person that killed and surely has done many disgusting and morally reprehensible acts.

The soft taps were getting closer, almost in the middle of the room now, and he stepped forward a little more, he could have seen you. But instead, he went towards your bedroom door. There was no doubt that he knew exactly where he was going, as he murmured under his breath which room was behind each door.

There were three closed doors, but he knew precisely what they were leading to, and it made a chill go up your spine.

It was not a coincidence, perhaps never was.

Childe pushed the door of your bedroom open, and it was soundless this time, even if you were in there, you wouldn't have heard him at all.

There were three footsteps, and suddenly, he stopped moving. Was he waiting to see if you were still asleep?

You could hear his breath, the sudden deep inhale before he held it, certainly trying to listen for any suspicious noise. Despite being convinced that he was being really discreet and careful, he needed to make sure. When he was certain, he moved forward, each step being more cautious than the other, avoiding any misstep.

Suddenly, everything went silent.

You stood up as soundlessly as you could and tiptoed towards the bedroom, slowly hearing Childe's breath in a clear way, noticing how ragged it was. You took a quick glance inside the room and saw him standing there, motionless, a few steps away from your bed.

The pillows under the cover seemed good enough to trick him. It was completely dark in the apartment, so it was certainly why he didn't understand the sham yet. Thankfully for you, your eyes adapted to the luminosity after a few long minutes, so you could see almost perfectly.

You were aware it would not last much longer, so you did not waste one more second. Moving immediately, he seemed to sense it instantly, as the sudden motion startled Childe and made him jump. Unfortunately, you were already behind him, as nothing was standing between you to slow you down.

Without thinking, on the full impulse of wanting to save yourself, you wrapped your hands around Childe's neck. Despite his athletic build, his neck was small, almost delicate under your hands, you could feel his pulse speed up under your palms.

His hands shot up instantly without any hesitation as he grabbed your wrist, and your thumbs were digging into his skin. To break free, you felt his grip tightening around your own rapidly. His body was heating up, panic and unaccustomed fear taking over his system, he was suffocating.

Choking him, you refrained to tighten your hold too much, not wanting to kill him but simply knocking him out. It was weirdly pleasing and enjoyable to feel someone collapsing because of you, the faint pulse and breath after he stops wrestling.

A few seconds ago, he was trying to grab your arms, kick your legs or your knee in the hope you would let him go, but he reacted too late to defend himself. Most of his strength left him rapidly, and with the height difference, along with the fact that you grabbed him from behind, he was unable to do anything.

Childe heard you murmur something in his ear, and that's when he finally recognized your voice and touch. Almost gently, he felt your grip loosen, and then, a hard object made contact with the back of his head.

Now that you were supposedly safe, you observed Childe’s limp body. With the force you used, you were certain that he should be knocked out for a little while without a doubt. For the first time today, you could sit down and really think about what was happening, sorting out your thoughts. 

In a way, you knew from the start that something like this could happen, even if you tried to convince yourself of the opposite. Too many things were suspicious from the start, both in his behavior towards you and the way he was acting with others. A certain thing was still unclear though, what were his real intentions? 

Has he been planning to kill you from the start, or do something else to you? Was he usually flirting to make his next target more comfortable around him and lower their guard? That could be a possibility… This was really confusing for your poor intoxicated brain, it was already such luck that you could handle this alcohol well, or else, who knows what could have happened to you. 

For now, you could only wait. As Childe knows the area much better than you, running away would only give you more time, but would not save you in the long term. This man was not the kind of person to give up on his prey, even if he had to destroy a city to catch his prey, he would. So, he would chase after you until you give up or die. 

Ultimately, it was the same to stay here with him or leave. And perhaps, before the end of this dream, you could understand what he was thinking. 

You went around the room, searching for anything that could be useful. Despite going through everything, you didn't manage to find something useful, until you opened a drawer. Inside was thin iron wire, surely there in case it was needed if something was misfunctioning inside the room, but you weren't going to use it the way it was made for. Disregarding the fact that it could really hurt him, you tied him to the bed, making sure to block his wrists and ankles correctly without it being too tight unless he moves.

When you were sure everything was secure, you search into his clothes to take away any weapons he had. But surprisingly, he didn't have anything on him, not even a small knife, which was suspicious since you were almost certain you saw something shiny and sharp inside his pocket. Unlike what you thought, he really was empty-handed, the only thing on him was a large amount of Mora.

Checking once again, and another time again, he really had nothing on him, which was weird for someone that was literally following home a few minutes ago. Just thinking about it, you felt anxious and had the irrepressible urge to tighten Childe's restraints again, only to be sure it was safe.

In silence, you grabbed a chair and placed it on the opposite side of the room, out of reach. For now, you were dead tired, especially after drinking so much, and you could only think about having a break. Without wasting much time, you left your bedroom and locked the door, you went to the bathroom to get rid of this foul odor of alcohol and sweat. The anxiousness and exhaustion made you be much quicker than usual, and you were back inside the bedroom within a short few minutes.

Fearing the possibility of being exhausted when Childe wake up and try to break free, you took the decision of sleeping now. Sat on the uncomfortable chair, your back complaining about the hard wood that was digging into your shoulder blade. You felt your eyelids grow heavier in an instant, the long night catching up on you as you fell asleep, your neck already complaining about the horrible position you were in.

Despite the way your brain shut off in an instant, your instincts of survival and the fear of being harmed made you unable to rest properly. At every little sound, whether it was inside or outside the room, you would jump awake, checking if Childe moved. Your mind was on high alert, always ready to protect yourself.

The night grow deeper, moonlight shining through the opened window. It was calm outside, letting you for at least a few minutes rest in peace and quiet. Only the sounds of drunkards going home, cats meowing and fighting, or the sounds of flapping wings through the dormant sky could be heard.

Two hours passed, the night has grown deeper and darker. It was silent, calming, and resting, until a small creaky noise was heard, followed closely by a deep groan. Right away, your eyes had shot open, falling onto the waking-up man tied up on the bed. He was slowly coming back to his senses, everything rushing to him at once, along with his memories of what happened.

In a disguised panic, hidden under sleepiness and fake confidence, Childe blinked rapidly as he tried to move his arms and legs. The thin iron wire cut into his skin like butter, each of his action making the restraints more harmful, so he stopped all motion. His position in these circumstances was clear, even more when he slowly looked up towards the ceiling, and saw you from the corner of his eyes, sitting on a chair and glaring at him.

Childe was aware that this situation should not make his heart beat incredibly faster in his chest, but he could not help it. His heartbeat has never been this fast, and he could feel himself sweat in fear and excitement.

Instead of possibly worsening your opinion of him, Childe opted to stay silent, only watching you, observing you like a hawk to find a weakness. And so, you were the one who broke the tense silence.

“What were you planning to do?”

With everything happening, you had absolutely no idea of what to say. The fact that Childe didn't try to break free did reassure you a little, but it didn't mean that you were safe, far from it, actually. In your mind, you were convinced that Childe was planning to harm you, or kill, which were terribly similar in the end when you know this character.

Without much of a surprise, your question remained unanswered. Despite the position he was in, it wasn't unexpected that Childe would not tell you why he was here and what he was planning. The silence grow tenser, Childe had the time to come back to his senses completely, much faster than any other human, as he had regained his full focus and composure.

With the quietness of the room engulfing you, a feeling of anger bubbled inside you, as he didn't acknowledge your presence anymore or even tried anything. With a sigh, you scratched your nape, looking at him as your blood slowly boiled until you had enough.

You stood up, the chair pushed back and falling at your sudden movement in a loud sound. Within seconds, you were next to him, your hand slamming onto the bed just next to his head as you demanded him to answer your question. The sudden action made Childe react, and he turned his head towards you, dull eyes plunging into yours. Instead of a possible glacial glare, you were met by something highly different.

What you expected to be an attitude proving you that your life will be done for in the next minutes, and showing his internalized murderous intent was such a different expression and look. Childe's cheeks were a soft shade of red, almost unnoticeable with the freckles covering his face. His ears were redder though, and very noticeable as his hair was not long enough to hide them.

Definitely not trying to cover it, Childe have a little excited grin on his face, thin rosy lips stretched out as his cheeks became just a little redder. In a smooth motion, he wet his lips, clearing his throat when you grow a bit distracted. Under his confidence was a mischievous look, like he was planning something but not as bad as you thought it was.

His eyes were fixated on you, dull eyes growing a bit warmer but still cold as ice. His pupils were dilated to an abnormal extent, almost completely swallowing the harsh blue, left in a thin circle. They were somewhat begging, trying to get something out of you, and were sending you a particular looks that you couldn't comprehend yet.

It took you some long seconds, and by observing him more closely, it hits you suddenly. Childe actually never gave off any murderous intent, but it was actually a curious and excited look he has been giving you the whole time. Because the eyes he had now, were the same he was showing you inside the bar, and also the same when you met him for the first time while entering Liyue after days of traveling.

It seems like you mistook his intentions towards you from the start, everything you thought could be a sign of being threatened, was utterly different from what you imagined. Yet, it could erase the fact that he followed you to your hotel, and broke into your rented apartment, so there was still something fishy about him.

This time, you take the time to observe him correctly, noticing how his back was slightly arching off the bed despite having nothing forcing him to, the way his fingers curled up anxiously, the back of his head pushed against the pillow, and the way he was strangely rubbing his thighs together.

And then, another detail hits you. It was how his tight gray pants were hiding absolutely nothing of his excitation, and the position Childe was in left him powerless and unable to cover himself.

Despite realizing this, you can't help but be uncomfortable and tense around him. There was this feeling at the back of your throat, the same one that was pooling at the bottom of your stomach… This fear mixed with a certain attraction that shouldn't be there.

Whether you were in a dream or not, what just happened was terrifying, and you were still a bit frightened. Your attraction for the Childe in your dream was caused by the character that you knew, the fanon one, and not the devilishly scaring one currently in your hotel room. You were aware that Childe was not a good man, after all, he possibly tried to get you drunk, he definitely broke into your hotel room after following you for a few long minutes into the deserted streets.

Even in the case that Childe was not planning to kill you, it was still alarming to be in this situation. You were certain that even if something bad happened to you, it was a dream, so you would just wake up, there was some anxiousness left in you.

Instead of panicking more and potentially make your dream end with a terrible fate, you decided to calm down. You walked out of the room, after checking if Childe was still tightly restrained, and then, took deep breaths in and out. Counting in your head, you slowly made your heart rate go down, along with a part of your anxiety.

It took you a few more minutes to get mentally ready to go back inside the bedroom. What you absolutely wanted, was answers on why Childe followed you here, and since you were still in a position of power, this was the perfect opportunity. At worse, if nothing goes well, you could still leave the hotel early and then, travel again to one of the other cities.

After taking a finally deep inhalation, you opened the door again, and went inside.

Childe was still in the same state you left him in, which was reassuring. You stood next to the bed, at an arm length from it, and stared at Childe which looked back at you, his eyes not moving from your face.

When you asked the same question again, about what he was planning to do by coming here, he did not stay silent this time. Childe was facing you without any shame or guilt, seeming really relaxed for someone who got caught the way he was. With a strong and confident voice, Childe said that he just wanted to observe you and spend the night here.

His lack of shame was impressive. Everything was silent for some seconds, and then, he continued to talk. More lowly this time, he explained that he felt something earlier that day when he saw you. It was the kind of feeling he had when he was going to face an enemy stronger than him or someone that could reveal to be exciting in the future.

This explanation sounded so strange and out of nowhere. Yet, from his tone and the look in his eyes, it was clear that Childe was not lying to you, or trying to deceive you. This made no sense, since you were just a basic person, but you decided to just put this on the fact that this is not reality and not everything would always make sense. Until now, you noticed nothing out of ordinary, at least for a world in Genshin, so it was the first time an item or character lacked of sense.

You froze for a moment, completely confused on what to do. Should you just forget what happened, act as if it was nothing more than a weird event in a crazy dream? Should you try to call the authorities, despite perfectly knowing that here, they can't do anything against the Fatui? There was no good option or one guaranteeing your satisfaction.

Even if you untie him and let him go, nothing was telling you that Childe would not come back soon. He could seven come back this same night if he wanted to.

An awful and horrible went through your mind was a short instant… a bloody option that you couldn't even dare to name. Were you already losing your mind? You had no idea how such a terrifying idea came to your mind so suddenly, and it scared you. There was no way that you could have really just imagined harming and possibly kill someone by yourself.

With a heavy and resigned sigh, you decide to let him go.

In the end, you concluded that what you choose to do would not matter, since if it was really a dream or hallucination, it could not impact you directly. Yet, something in the back of your mind was telling you that you were being careless, having already decided nothing here existed for real without any proof.

Maybe it was a way to protect yourself, by convincing yourself that it was not real. Or maybe a trick from your brain, a defense mechanism to keep you more or less sane. There were so many options but so little want to explore the darkest and mind-confusing possibilities. For now, it was better to consider this world has an imagination of your mind while your body rested.

Childe's eyes followed you as you walked closer to him, placing a knee at the end of the bed, so you could be steady while untying his ankles. The thin iron wire didn't tighten too much, so it wasn't too difficult to take it off, and the sharp metal didn't cut into Childe's skin when he tried to free himself the first time.

He seemed surprised by your choice, but not dissatisfied by it in any way. To make the process of untying him easier, he relaxed his body, so the wire wouldn't get stuck into his skin and make everything more painful. His two ankles were free of movement, but he didn't do move them, staying calm and motionless.

When you told him that the second he was free, he had to leave immediately, he frowned but didn't complain, just nodding silently. There was a little glint of mischief when he looked at you, and a strangely strong hint of embarrassment, but you ignored it.

Carefully, you moved to the middle of the bed, so you could be able to take off the wire about Childe's right wrist. This one was much more challenging than the ankles, as they were much tighter and had started to dig a little into his skin, small red droplets running down his arm to his elbow, before touching the sheets of the bed.

You had to be careful and meticulous to be able to get it off, but you managed to do it with minor damage after a few long minutes. Then, it was the time to do it for the other wrist. Unfortunately, with the bed being pushed against the wall, you couldn't just walk to the other side as you had to climb directly onto the bed.

You cussed under your breath when you understood what you needed to do, as you sighed and went on with it. Kneeling on the bed, you leaned forward to reach Childe's wrist while trying to maintain some distance. With this position, you could feel and see his body just under you perfectly, but you forced your eyes to stay focus on the task at hand, and not travel down.

Despite not doing anything to him, Childe let out a sudden gasp, the sound turned almost whiny at the end. You didn't think much of it, until it happened again after you moved to the right to get a better angle of view and see what you were doing with your hands exactly.

Frozen on the spot, you glanced down at him in confusion. Your eyes ran even lower, trying to see what could be bothering Childe this much. And they fell upon a surprising scene that you did not think about. While leaning more and more forward to reach the thin iron wire tightly wrapped around the man's wrist, you forgot a small detail… which was that if you keep moving upward, your knee that is holding you up will meet with Childe's body.

And that's how you find yourself in your current situation, with your hands on Childe's wrist, your body hovering over his as he's still tied up to the bed, and your knee pushing against his crotch. For a few minutes now, your knee has been rubbing against Childe's private area, which was now pretty awake as you could see his obvious boner.

The realization hits you, and you stop everything you were doing, freezing completely, you were almost reluctant to breathe at this point. Your chest was burning, but it was confusing if it was because of embarrassment or a kind of attraction for your current predicament.

Childe didn't look any better. His cheeks were a flaming red, highlighting his harmonious freckles, the way he got flustered but also turned on was so obvious. Out of anxiety, he wets his lips, looking at the thigh between his legs, still not moving from there, the pressure still presents against his bulge.

Seconds passed in a tense silence, both of you judging the situation and trying to understand what was going to happen next. You were both waiting for the other one to move, so you were stuck in this awkward but exciting situation. After all, the physical attraction was there, but it didn't mean that you were forgetting what happened before, and your guard was still up.

Though, you couldn't have expected Childe to react this way. Instead of moving away, or telling you to step back, he got even closer. The first motion was a light try, the second was more daring and bold, the third was filled with certitude and want.

Childe had started to roll his hips against your thigh, shamelessly grinding against your knee, small sounds escaping him when he rolled at a certain angle. All by himself, not waiting anymore for your reaction, he was getting himself off by using you. The fact that his wrist was still tied to the bed seemed to have flown out the window as he started to find the perfect pace.

Entertained by his movement that seemed more and more hypnotic, you watch in amazement as his pants tightened even more, his legs slightly shaking under the effort and in such an uncomfortable position. His eyebrows were furrowed, eyes narrowed as he was focusing, his lips pressed tightly together and body trembling. You didn't particularly want to admit it but… he looked good, crazily good.

His usual composure had started to break down, his control slipping away. You understood his patience was running thin when Childe sped up, and he was now desperately grinding onto your thigh, the front of his gray pants turning a slight shade darker. The whine he let out when he felt your muscles tense under him was exquisite, caressing your ear in the most perfect and sensual way.

His lips parted as he took a short breath in, small moans and quiet whines were pouring out of his mouth with less control than before, dancing and breaking the silence of the room, drowning out the loud beating of your heart.

He wasn't completely free of his restraints yet, and the wire around his left wrist keeps becoming tighter, cutting into his skin as more bloody droplets fell down. Yet, he seemed to like it, groaning when it becomes tighter, and he was trying to glare at you whenever you made a move to take it off. It wasn't really convincing in this situation, but you let it on anyway.

Childe picked up the pace, now humping your thigh in a desperate and messy way, his muscles tensing and his body shuddering in delight. Just like his pace, his sounds became more frequent and loud, resonating through the room in an agreeable manner, his sharp inhale of air and smaller noises creating the perfect harmony. Between his sounds of pleasures, whines and mewls, Childe seemed to reach a certain high. And in a gesture to keep himself grounded, his hand grabbed yours, needing any sort of contact right now, and especially with you. His grip tightened around you, almost crushing your bones in the process.

His hips that slid in a smooth motion started to flatter, the rhythm sped up, losing itself as Childe grew close, closer to this intense pleasure. He didn't beg for it, but just took what he wanted without asking, he was demanding, and you were supposed to give.

Yet, just before Childe could experience his orgasm, you moved away. It ended quickly, one instant Childe could feel it coming inside his gut, and the next, you had stepped off the bed and the sensation disappeared with you. Too out of it, he didn't realize immediately what happened, as his body was still chasing after a sensation he couldn't feel by himself, and he humped the air pathetically much to your amazement.

The pitiful sound he lets out when he realized that you moved away and off the bed went straight down to your cock, and the imprint on your pants only managed to torment Childe even further. When his body motions came to a stop, he was quick to get on his knees and move towards you and touch you… if it was not for the iron wire around his wrist. The same one that he refused you to take off, was now something he desperately wanted out of his way.

Childe tried to use sheer strength to get rid of it, but the way the wire was turned onto itself and around the pale skin made it impossible. The only result would be to end up cutting through his skin, and he wasn't thinking well enough to try taking it off with his free hand. Though, nothing was guaranteeing that he would succeed this way. Immobilized and weak in the knees, his legs having fallen asleep from laying in the same position for so long, he wasn't able to move as well as he wished to.

In front of such a view, you couldn't hide the smirk growing onto your face, the satisfaction of getting some kind of answer, finally. The desperation of Childe was much deeper than you expected or could ever think of, the fear subduing, almost completely disappearing to give some space to a more sadistic and uncaring part of yourself.

To say Childe was looking pitiful was an understatement. The strong Harbinger had his face flushed in a beautiful rosy pink, his thin lips getting plumper after each bite of his own teeth digging into the soft skin. Your eyes were dancing between the view of those glossy eyes, eyelashes wet and clumping together, his bottom lash line threatening to let the tears run down freely onto his freckles-covered cheeks.

Your eyes danced lower, admiring the way his body flexed, his muscles trembling under the sharp observation and the need to have his thirst quenched. Under the gray jacket, you can see his abdominal clenching, muscles tightening in an attempt to keep his body from giving up. His scarf fall on the floor as he tries to free himself once again, and your gaze land on his belt and his pants. The gray fabric seems expensive, and as you examine his legs slightly shaking from the effort of maintaining his current position, you notice the dark spot on the front of his pants.

The fabric was stained at an obvious location, the spot growing slowly darker and larger, the spot expanding as time passed. You were amused by Chides apparent arousal, as evidenced by his twitching cock inside his pants, the tight cloth not able to conceal the visible bulge.

With a mocking tone, you speak once again, your voice sounding more confident and meaner than before, as you weren't feeling intimidated by Childe's behavior and aura anymore.

"So… That's what you came for.

You wanted to get fucked."

Those words made Childe freeze, his eyes widening as he tried to deny your claim, and he knew perfectly well that you weren't completely wrong. Coughing from the shock, he shakes his head, and start to babble something inaudible, his words melting together in an incoherent speech. His explanation was messy, he couldn't find his words, and he was getting more flustered as the seconds passed.

Your amused grin widening at the display, he sounded like he was going to give up on the lies soon, and just admit for what he really came here for, following you like a creep. His ears and neck were flushed in a rosy pink, but when he looked up, the look in his eyes was sharp, unashamed. As politely as he could, he asked you to untie his hand, promising that he won't run away or try to do you any harm.

The request made you raise your eyebrow, not trusting him in the slightest despite his lack of aggressiveness. After some seconds of tense silence, you sighed and ended up agreeing. Either way, you were planning to free him earlier before he started his little show, so it would be stupid and illogical to deny his request now. You kneeled over the bed again, trying to not touch him this time, as you managed to untie the wire without much trouble or pain.

Standing up from the bed and away from Childe, you expected him to leave immediately after the embarrassing view he gave you. Instead, with his legs still shaking a little, he moved to the edge of the bed where you were seated previously and raised onto his knees. Before you could be too far, he grabbed your shoulders with a strong grip, his strength not surpassing yours but still strong enough to have an impact. He wrapped his arms around your neck, forcing you to stay close and within reach of his body.

This position was really unstable, both for him as his knees were maintaining his entire balance and you, because of his arms dragging you down to let his arms find a comfortable position, the height difference being obvious. Without thinking, your hands were placed on his waist, keeping the both of you stable and in a position that wasn't breaking your back.

This action made Childe chuckle, the surprisingly sweet and deep sound fell directly onto your ear as his head was resting near your shoulder. The fact that you stabilized him and didn't let him fall alone by moving back made Childe feel satisfied and more confident in what he was doing. His hands wander down your neck to your back, resting on your shoulder blades before following the hollow along the spine.

The smirk on his face widen, eyes running along your silhouette in a hasty manner, as if it was going to end in an instant. Something has grabbed his attention since he woke up, despite the situation he was in, it caught his eyes almost instantly. He couldn't help but question himself on why you seem so distant, not towards him, but towards everything. It was as if you were considering everything around you, items and people, as nonexistent, a kind of hallucination you couldn't get rid of.

Something was weird about you, and it was oddly attractive. There was something about you that Childe could not ignore, his mind telling him that you were someone important in one way or another. It was captivating this unusual aura about you that he never felt before. In a way, it was similar to the feeling he had when he met Aether, but here, it was much stronger to the point it was suffocating him.

Childe knew that he had to stay close, watch the events unfold. And if on the way, he ends up getting a bit more attached than he should, he didn't really mind. After following you around for the entire day, he found out that staying away from you for too long only made his mind go into a state of alert. He continued to trail you, each of your expression seeming strange to him, the way you talked to people or looked at them, the way you seemed so lost.

Noticing that he was getting lost in his thoughts, he shakes his head and focus on the person in front of him again. You had the same weird look on your face again, and it was annoying him. He needed. he wanted you to look at him with emotions, feelings, the same look of recognition when your eyes met for the first time.

He seemed to himself, observing you, bathing in the feelings of fabrics and skin under his fingertips. Jolts of electricity running through his hands at each contact, a sensation of power coursing through his veins, it was exhilarating. Childe could even feel his vision activating, and it was so different from usually, as his entire body could feel the element running inside it, his delusion lightening up too.

It took him a few long seconds to get used to the sensation before regaining his composure. With a controlled voice, Childe finally decided to answer your question, each of his words being completely honest and true. He was aware that there was no point in lying now, as it would only make you more on guard and tensed around him.

"I was curious."

Childe's sharp eyes were dissecting your entire being, seeming to read your mind as his voice showed how much confidence and control he had. He felt like you were standing on equal footing, and the discussion could only go forward to an ending he would enjoy.

"I felt something when we met at the border of Liyue.

I needed to make sure I wasn't imagining things, so I followed you.

And I also can't get you out of my mind, so I have no remorse."

Childe's sudden sincerity took you by surprise. Both this and the way his hands grazed over your body as if you were a masterpiece send a strange feeling to your core. His fingertips delicately stroked the small scars you acquired from fighting with the hilichurls.

At first, it was just curiosity, Childe looking and observing you as if you were someone completely different. And to be honest, you were staring at him the same way, so you couldn't really complain or argue about it, even though the fact that he was touching you was weird. It only made you question even more what was happening to you and where you were exactly, if you got everything wrong since the start.

His touches grow more slow, sensual. Childe was exploring your body over the fabric of your clothes, now making it clear that he had something else in mind, his grin turning into a smirk. The sensations he was experiencing made him unable to stop his hands from wandering, a hushed whimper leaving his mouth as the size difference became much more obvious. The size of his hand letting him compare how much longer or larger some of your body parts were next to his.

A warm smile appeared on his face, a look of satisfaction and newfound thirst. If he didn't want to do anything sexual with you, now he definitely wanted to. His body did not relax since the pleasure he experienced earlier, and Childe would not be against having some fun with you, now that he was here and has been found sneaking around. The only thing he has to do, was to tempt you and make you give in.

Childe may be with the Fatui and a so-called villain by many people, he was not going to start anything without your consent, now that his mind was out of the gutter. Thankfully for him, he noticed that his attention and the motion of his hands weren't leaving you unresponsive. Your eyes held a flame that was threatening to consume him wholly, and he would not complain in the slightest, especially not when your presence made his body feel regenerated and so powerful.

The temptation was strong, you had no real reason to push Childe away, and your mind or heart was telling you to stay, to accept the wordless offer. You could see Childe's grin widen as your resolve started to crumble, your body relaxing and his hands dancing down your back to slide under your shirt, enjoying the skin-to-skin contact.

Something inside of you was urging you to stop thinking, ignore all the possibilities and worst outcomes, and just sink into this distorted and fake reality. The want to ravish him grows stronger, mental restraints breaking one after the other, and you wanted to give in just once. This kind of realistic dream doesn't happen every night, and the want to just go with the flow was more tempting than any other of your logical thinking.

It's as if your brain has completely shut down, with no thoughts managing to stay long enough to be processed. All your worries melted away like snow in the sun, any warnings your mind tried to give you were erased, and any rules you tried to respect to protect yourself and your mental health were broken in an instant. Only the indecent part of yourself and your imagination was functioning at its full capacity, crushing anything that remained.

The atmosphere had a sudden switch, from an awkward and tense sensation to the room feeling hotter, the air is more heavy and hot as it enters your lungs. It was hard to swallow or to look away from the man in front of you, and it was just as impossible for him to not stare and take in the pleasant tension.

Childe felt it just as much as you, his body tense up under the way you stare at him. His knees pushed onto the mattress, his arm holding onto you strongly, testing the fabric of your shirt. Your grip on his waist tightened, his pale skin bruising under the strength, his soft yet scarred skin melted between your fingers. His body is so cold compared to yours, it felt like ice under your fingertips, and a slight touch from a warmer body could turn him to liquid.

The control of the situation is slipping through his fingers, the pressure, and tension making his heart race. He already what is going to happen, he's going to get devoured and there's no way Childe will be able to fight back. And he definitely did not want to fight back, he is ready to endure it with all his body and soul.

Your hands moved lower, caressing his lower back, moving onto his hips, and then, grabbing his thighs. He was firmly holding onto you, even when he felt himself being hoisted up, his knees not touching the mattress anymore, his legs dangling in the air for some seconds.

His back landed on the bed, bouncing once and plopping down without moving anymore, slightly confused by what just happened. Being manhandled easily like a rag doll made his cheeks flush, as he was far from used to anyone even daring to do this, but Childe was not against something new. Laying limp on the soft sheets, he gives up on the control of the situation, and he started to truly enjoy it.

Not even a kiss was exchanged, nothing of that sort was happening. The urgency and the need were speaking, far more loudly than anything else. Hands were quick, hips raising to facilitate every move, Childe was quickly left in his underwear. His clothes were discarded and sent flying inside the room in an unknown direction, it was a mess. Everything happened in a blink of an eye, first falling on his back, fully clothed and slightly excited, to a second instant, almost fully naked and put on all fours.

Your hands followed the slight arch of his back, moving gently to the side to take in every curve and wound, feeling every small and bigger ones that hadn't healed yet. Childe's body was a battlefield, not a spot has been left untouched, whether it was a bullet, a wound from an arrow, a sword, or skin burned by surely a pyro vision holder. Gently, you caress them with your fingertips, more by curiosity than any worry or care for him, but you still remain careful about them.

At each contact of your warmer skin against his, Childe could feel his heart skip a beat, the air seeming to get stuck in his throat. With trembling hands, they get lost on your upper back, his body enjoying more than enough of the simple sensation of your somewhat calm touch. Your contact with him was purely physical, trying to quench a thirst, but Childe couldn't help but have the necessity of feeling your lips pressing against his own.

When you lean closer, your breath hit his neck, and his heart went into overdrive, thinking you might kiss him. Yet it's your teeth that greeted him, digging into his skin, pulling and biting until the area was sore. It was so frustrating but understandable at the same time, there was nothing between the two of you, except your curiosity and need, and Childe's weird pull of his heart and mind when it comes to you.

His arms shook at the sensation of your hand wrapped around his wrists, moving them upward, only to put them over his head and push them into the mattress. Your intentions were clear as you grabbed the remaining of iron wire, put his hand behind his back, and blindly tied his wrist together. The slender but mentally heavy restrain felt somewhat reassuring and agreeable to Childe, despite how it painfully forced his shoulder backward and pulled on his forearms.

In such a position, Childe could not hold his body up correctly without damaging his back or shoulders, and his core tightened as much as possible to remain still even without his arms supporting his weight. It didn't last long as he admitted defeat and let himself fall forward, his head into the pillow, his ass pushed up and grazing against your crotch.

Your fingers danced over his skin, moving up into they were lost in his hair, pushing his head down into the pillow. The sudden and strong tug at his scalp made Childe moan, the sound ripping out of his throat as he gasped, the pillow swallowing his noises. It was hard to breathe properly. You kept him there, still caressing his skin with your other hand, and when you feel him shake more, you yank him back up. From his expression and opened mouth allowing small groans out, Childe was enjoying himself, the lack of air only making him harder within his underwear.

Heavy and deep inhales could be heard, before he was pushed down once again. His body would tense and relax without control, a slight whine thanking you when your fingers played with the locks of lighter color, running through his hair and massaging his scalp. In an instant, the tension left his body, as his mind relaxed and his eyelids grow heavier, Childe was completely at your mercy physically and psychologically.

The bed dipped as your knees went on either side of his hips, looming over him in a menacing yet delicious manner. Your shadow was swallowing Childe wholly, giving him the unfamiliar feeling of being powerless, it was thrilling to the point he doubted his heart wasn't going to stop beating suddenly.

Still holding onto his hair, you thought it was time to move on to something much more interesting and entertaining as you grow impatient. You dig your nails into his skin, leaving red marks as your hand rushes down, ignoring the pain it could give him as they racked over recent scars and wounds. The light burn sends spikes of pleasure to Childe, a whine of pain and delight passing through his teeth when your nail caught onto a crust formed over a wound.

The roughness of your touch was welcomed warmly, his hips pushing back against yours, pleading that you speed up the pace. Childe's teeth stabbed into the pillow when you reached his lower back, now creating a path of red pulsing marks on his sides, hips, and finally, thighs. Massaging the soft flesh, you went up to his ass, kneading it until you reached the waist bad.

You waited for Childe to move his hips again or say a word before tugging it down, having to push his hips down flat onto the bed, so you were able to correctly take it off. Left helpless and exposed, Childe did not feel embarrassed in the slightest, it was not the first time it happened, and even though the roles were reversed, it was nothing he was against. He let you guide his body, grabbing his legs to lift him up further up the bed and give you more space to work with.

Your large hands fully held onto his thighs, using the position to spread his legs apart to gain access. The cold air of the room hit him suddenly, and his legs closed around your hands suddenly, only for Childe to pry them open again by himself, allowing the tight grip you had onto them. You watched with amusement as his hole clenched around nothing, legs shaking painfully as he held them apart as much as he could, exposing his twitching cock. Precum was staining the sheets, forming a small but visible puddle.

"Are you that excited? You're leaking."

Those words were more teasing than anything else, and it made Childe whine, loving how embarrassing it should be for him, your laughter reached his ears as it filled the room, making his cheeks turn crimson. Frustrated that you couldn't see his face correctly, you moved him into his back once again, his heels digging onto the mattress to keep his legs apart just for you.

His hands were still tightly tied behind his back, but he was not complaining about it yet, especially not when you placed the palm of your hand on his tip. At the simple but powerful touch, his hips jerked upward, his body trembling as you started to make small circles, the tip rubbing onto the center of your palm. His thighs shook as he had to hold himself up as his hips were in the air, not shying away from the pleasure he has been waiting for.

You completely loomed over him, your lips meeting his neck once again as you suck and bite on the soft flesh, slowly moving down without stopping the movement of your hand. Your face reached his spread legs, mouthing at his inner thigh before creating bleeding purple and red spots, a thin layer of sweat and saliva mixing together. The mark of your teeth decorated his pale skin perfectly.

The nails of your free hand grazed over his other thigh, moving to the inner part of them before going toward the spot Childe wanted the most to be touched right now.

Your fingertip teased his entrance, but you didn't start to do anything yet, only testing the waters. Your answer was simple dissatisfied words from him, his tone not too cocky, but still showing some confidence and impatience. Chuckling, your head dipped down, blowing air on his sensitive tip when you took your hand off it. A shocked gasp left him, and he slightly raised his leg, hitting your hips with his heel, getting annoyed and seriously in need of some real action.

Patting his leg, you forced it down again to not receive another hit, that was definitely strong, but not as painful as you expected. With a tight and painful grip, you held his hips down, flushed onto the bed, and you hoped he will stay in place as you went down on him. You run your tongue over his inner thigh to his hole, making Childe mewl and his hands onto the sheets tightly, legs almost kicking out as his hips bucked up violently.

He gasped, asking you to untie him, and after receiving another hit, you did. You hum at the soft pain coming from your scalp as his hands onto your hair, nails racking onto your skin, holding on for dear life. It surprised you when one of his hands went down to take one of yours, intertwining your fingers before getting lost in the sensation of your mouth again. You did not make a move to get his hand off, and just held onto it while the other was pinning his hips down as much as you could, his lower body rolling against your face to get more pleasure.

Without anything similar to lube on you or around you, you could only do this to at least try to ease the pain of the next step. To ease him, you gently caress the top of his hand with your thumb, trying not to overwhelm him, but he seemed quite lost in the sensation already.

Childe was painfully hard, ecstasy overriding any other emotion, clenching at each drag of your tongue. His mind was becoming blank as he felt your tongue leave, only for it to slide inside again without warning, preparing him for something he did not even see yet. The fact that you were still fully clothed annoyed him, but he forgot it instantly at the sound of spitting, as you shamelessly spat on his hole to make everything easier. His body lurched forward, hips higher both in a request to speed up and give him your tongue again.

It was a delicious mess, Childe clenching around your tongue like his life depends on it, giving you the impression that he could cut it off if he really tightened too much. The feeling of dirtiness by the way your spit trailed down his ass is washed away by the stimulation and excitement you inflict on him. You were so damn loud, eating him out like you were starving, but none of you were complaining, Childe writhing under you, legs shaking as his heels dig into the mattress.

His breaking point was coming nearer and nearer, so you halted before anything could happen, everything coming to a sudden stop. You pulled away from him, gasping for air in heavy breaths, removing the saliva that was on your chin with two fingers. Only to wipe it off on Childe's cheek was greedily accepted it, the slight humiliation only turning on further.

He froze when he feels your fingertip pushing against his entrance. Childe waited, patiently with his right leg slightly bouncing from the excitement. Seconds passed slowly, he isn't desperate yet but he was close to, the tantalizing wait made his insides twist and clench, confused about why you weren't doing anything or moving anymore. His voice comes out shaky and high as he tells you to quit teasing him and start preparing him correctly.

Immediately, your phalange enters him, sliding in without any resistance because of how wet and waiting he was for it, the saliva definitely being a huge help. You were taking your time, doing it correctly, and it was frustrating Childe, especially when he could see the bulge through your pants, and the way you grind your hips onto the sheets as a manner to contain yourself in the meantime.

Childe whined openly when he felt the drag of your first finger inside him it sends tingles down his spine. Shaking, he grabbed a pillow to shove it against his face, concealing his noises as his back arched off the bed, his legs kicked open, and his hips undulated prettily under you. He chocked on a moan as he felt another finger go inside, your nails scrapping his sensitive walls so pleasantly his whole body shook, a groan forcing its way out of his throat when your fingertips grazed over his prostate as they scissored him open.

For the first time in a really long while, tears escaped Childe's eyes, the pleasure spiking through his body up to his soul to the point he couldn't talk anymore. The tears were stagnating at the corner of his eyes, none of you knowing if it was out of desperation or pleasure, but they were definitely there. Childe let go of the pillow only to tap your arm, having difficulties looking at you with how his tears blurred his vision.

When he felt your fingers stop completely, it was as if his world fell apart, desperately clenching around you to keep you inside. He looked at you with teary eyes, trying to understand what you were doing, holding back a whine of annoyance. With a small and innocent smile, as your third finger went in, you told him to move by himself. His eyes widened, but no complaints were heard as he went to work, throwing his hips back onto your hand forcefully while trying to keep eye contact with you.

He was doing his best, rolling his hips and moving as well as he could despite the awkward position. Your praises and encouragements only fuel his ego and want to show how good he could do, fucking himself open on your fingers impatiently, getting ready for something else. The current predicament made your hand itch to try something, and without thinking much, you raised it before slamming it back down on his thigh. The loud smacking sound was cut off by the loudest moan you heard of the night, Childe's body jerking forward at the impact. A few pitiful droplets of cum fell from his tip.

The hand holding his hips moved to his cock, using your thumb to play with his tip, rubbing it gently to add another stimulation on top of the current one. Your thumb along with the dragging of your fingers in and out of him was blissful, his body almost giving up as the pleasure took over in the most delightful way. His eyes stayed fixated on you as you stared at each other's eyes, captivated and heart beating loudly inside your chests.

Childe was nowhere near silent, openly and shamelessly showing how good and high he was feeling, mixing with the wet sounds in perfect harmony. You curled your fingers towards his prostate, hearing him cry out as more cum covered your thumb, pleading for you to do that again, his eyelids fluttering shut, and his eyebrow furrowed to focus on the unique sensation he perceived. Something emerged from inside him, his vision on the ground lighting up and illuminating the ceiling, but you did not notice.

You were too amazed by the way his back arched towards you, muscles rolling under the skin in a beautiful dance, his body shivering and twisting to escape and get closer to this pleasure at the same time. Small whines blended with sniffles reached your ears, his hips coming to a stop as he tried to catch his breath, his lungs burning and struggling to get any air inside.

Seeing him at your mercy made your heart skip a beat, the sight made you even more excited, and the urge to ruin him became overbearing. Despite his breathless and dizzy state, you added another finger inside of him, reaching four at the same time, only partially caring for his current state as you tried to be as gentle as possible about it.

Childe was feeling so sensitive, and the fact that he never orgasmed once was driving him slowly insane. He tried to protest, but the first phalanges of your fingers were slammed inside at a fast pace, the rest of them quickly joining too. Each drag pushed his head higher in the sky, his eyes closing as his mouth open to let out moans.

Roughly, you yanked his head back by the hair to expose his crying face and neck to you. Your teeth grazed the soft flesh, delicately biting into it as his hands were clasped on your nape, bringing you closer. Each drag and hit of his prostate was bringing him closer to his first orgasm of the night, his body yearning for it with all its might, needing to relieve the tension that is eating him alive.

The feeling inside Childe's core was growing rapidly, his abs tightening and his ass clenching strongly around your fingers. The residual alcohol in your systems was still exerting its effects on your bodies, resulting in an increase in his sensitivity, the sensation intensifying as he approached the oh-so-expected end. You could see Childe losing his mind as he was getting light-headed, his mind becoming blank, and he couldn't process anything anymore. Under his breath, cut off by moans and intelligible whines, he pleaded.

"… Just a bit more.

I need just a bit more…"

Smiling, you started to gently kiss his jaw, moving closer as your warmth engulfed him, bathing in the beautiful sight and soft pleasure of seeing him lose himself, you licked off the tears rolling down his freckles-kissed cheeks. The somewhat unfamiliar tender gesture distracted him and made Childe's heart stop beating for an instant, his hands cupping your jaw, tempted to kiss you but something was holding him back.

Opening his mouth, he cried out suddenly, unintelligible words coming out and were instantly cut by broken moans and whines. His head slammed back, his body tensing as Childe felt like he was overheating, the feeling of your long and thick fingers loosening him up but especially rubbing against his walls at an irregular pace. His entire body felt the wave crashing onto him, but something felt wrong.

Whimpering a plea, he was coming, but nothing came out of his body, leaving him shaking and disconcerted. He knew for a fact that this familiar sensation was one of an orgasm coming, but his release didn't happen, and he was throbbing in half-pain and pleasure. Tears continued to stain his cheeks with fresh new tears, wetting the pillow under his head.

Despite trying to say a word, no words flew past his lips, but you still sensed and understood his dissatisfaction and confusion about what just happened. Childe definitely never experienced a dry orgasm, and not in this kind of context even less. You gently took hold of his jaw, kissing the side of his neck, and helped him up, so he could get on his knees, his back turned to you. His body flushed against your torso, and he turned his head to nuzzle into your neck. The warmth from your body is comforting and relaxing, Childe is completely melting against you and letting you finish preparing him while trying to ignore the ache in his lower body.

Feeling like it was enough, you stopped moving your hand slowly separating yourself from Childe. Your lack of condom was immediately waved off by Childe who didn't care about that in the slightest at this moment, and instead grabbed your neck to make sure you would stay close to him when he felt your knees shift. Childe looked at you through wet lashes, his lips parting slightly, warm breath hitting your face as he wanted so badly to kiss you right now.

You sighed, running your fingers through his silky hair, nuzzling calmly into his neck, mouthing at the scarred skin while avoiding his lips, sensing that kissing him would cross a line. Before taking the next step, you wanted Childe to calm down a bit, his body as tense as a bowstring. Your hand danced over his body, rubbing his stomach with your palm, making small circles before moving to the middle of his chest to apply some pressure.

The rush you were in temporarily stopped, giving you some time to calm down and breathe properly while putting your mind away from the trembling happening on your lower body, hips moving in the air softly. It was also the time to make sure everything was still consensual, even though you had no doubt about it, you felt weird to just go into it without sharing a word.

You gently nuzzled your face in between his shoulder blades, licking the skin before biting down harshly, moaning as you break the skin, blood sliding into your mouth and down his back. The abrupt pain sends an exquisite sensation through Childe's entire body, his hands shaking as a quiet whine and hushed breath became soft moans, his face showing openly how much he was enjoying the pain and the slow agonizing pace that took place.

No doubt was left in your mind when you saw his face, noticing how dilated his pupils were, his eyes slowly starting to roll back in ecstasy. Drool gathered at the corner of his mouth, his cheeks permanently flushed in a red hue, and drying tears coating his skin, Childe looked beautiful and high. The few bites littering his skin completed the artwork the scars created, the droplets of blood turning into mind blowing pleasure for him and an artistic urge for you.

Now, you were definitely and wholly aching to be inside of him, relieve yourself from this constant need and desire pooling at the bottom of your stomach. Your grip keeping him on his knees loosened, and you carefully pushed him down, Childe slightly flopped down on the bed uselessly when your warmth wasn't engulfing him anymore. He remained still, waiting for the next actions you would take, but still throw a curious glance your way, wondering if he should turn on his back or stay still on his stomach.

As you step down from the bed, Childe turned on his back, resting on his forearms to watch what you were doing. You wasted no time discarding all your clothes, struggling for a few seconds to take off the unfamiliar clothes you were wearing, exposing your upper body first. A small sound was heard, Childe stayed still, watching with hawk eyes everything about you, drinking in every detail like a starving man, his cock becoming harder at the sight of the improvised strip tease.

Closing his legs tightly, Childe shamelessly rubbed his thighs together, now understanding why it took you so long to prepare him and why you used so many fingers. Since you were bigger than most people he met, he had no doubt every aspect of your body was similar in size, but it was slightly exceeding his expectations, in the greatest way possible. If he wasn't turned on before, he definitely was now, and his body begged silently to feel the body of the man stripping down in front of him.

Undoing your pants, you slide the soft fabric down your legs, kicking them away without much care about them. Your underwear followed suit, finally revealing the important part that Childe wanted to see, and he paused for a second at the sight. He blinked wordlessly at the sound of your cock hitting your stomach, a few droplets of precum tainting your skin in the prettiest way. Without any lube, you ended up spitting in your hand, stroking yourself and Childe observed every little movement, the way your wrist spun, your tip turning a slightly darker shade and a vein twitching to life.

Chile stayed still on the spot, his forearms getting enveloped by the mattress, his hole clenching around nothing, the feeling of being far too empty hit him. The sensation of saliva dripping out of him and the way you touched yourself just in front of him wasn't helping, and he practically jumped on his knees when you stepped toward the bed again.

Sitting on the bed at first, you kneeled on it, patting your thigh to call him over. Childe obeyed immediately, jolting forward and somewhat crawling toward you, his hands grabbing onto your thighs at first, kneading the flesh. His hands run over your body, teasingly grazing your cock with his fingertips before touching your stomach, going over to your side, toward your pectoral to end on your shoulders. His lips went closer to your face but didn't try to kiss you, only nibbling onto your jaw instead, teeth grazing your skin, pulling on it, and marking it.

Meanwhile, your hands moved to the back of his thighs, grabbing onto them to lift him up easily, closer to you and your torso flushed together, the warm skin heating up the freezing cold one. His weight wasn't a problem in the slightest, the difference in size making every move much simpler, his weight agreeably resting over your lap. You spread your legs a bit to find a good position, the way your breath fawned over Childe's neck was exhilarating for him, giving him shivers.

As you hold him up just over your cock, your tip pressing against his rim, Childe felt the excitement take over his body as the awaited moment was finally there after such a long and agonizing wait. Despite wanting nothing less than to drop him and bottom out completely, you still kept him up, asking to make sure everything was alright before you could do anything else.

His nails racked down your neck to your back, glaring at you when you asked that question as he wiggled his hips, making his impatience clear. You took it as a positive answer and readjusted your grip on his thighs, holding his legs apart as you lowered him slowly. To help you, Childe held your cock and placed the tip at his entrance while you lowered him, as there was no way it could slide in correctly without any help in this position.

As you forced him down slowly, you felt your breath be stolen away by the way he clenched around you so tightly, your hands shook on his thighs as you tried to focus on what you were doing. Childe gasped for air, nails digging into your scalp, heavy breath fawning over your neck as he hides his face in the junction of your neck and shoulder. He unconsciously tightened down like crazy around you, your grip loosening for an instant, but you caught him before he could fall on your cock in one go.

Childe was feeling loopy and high, the sweet pain of the stretch coursing through his body like a syrupy poison, he never thought he could have ever taken that size if you didn't stretch him out. His legs are shaking, he tried to move them to stay in a squatting position, but he was unable to think enough to try. He was already struggling too much to just get used to the overwhelming feeling to even try moving any muscles of his body, especially when he started to feel a strange sensation in his lower body, a small bulge appearing at the bottom.

You were definitely not bottoming out yet, but it was enough to send Childe's mind into overdrive. The sight made his hole clamp down around you, and your hands let go of him, and with gravity, he found himself sitting completely in your lap. Your cock was completely inside, swallowed by tight and pulsing insides, the lower part of his thighs slammed against yours, his mind shutting down as it happened, his poor brain unable to catch up with the sudden fullness.

Childe stayed frozen on the spot, his legs shaking from the spam of his muscles, his hands grasping at your shoulders to have something to keep himself sane.

You let out a heavy sigh turning into a soft moan, your hands trembling as they grabbed at the plush of his hips, getting used to the feeling of such tightness. With how things were going, there was no way you could last long, especially if Childe didn't manage to calm down and stop clamping down around you as if he wanted to cut your cock in two. Your sensitivity reached the highest point, leaving you breathless and shocked, the pleasure shooting through your core and into your veins, your body almost vibrating from the unfamiliar yet addicting sensation.

You both remained in this position for a few minutes, his hole squeezing and trying to suck you in even deeper, much to your delight and dismay. Childe's body is greedy, yearning for more, for you to move even if he isn't adjusted to your size yet, it didn't matter if it could be painful, he was going to love it anyway. His mind isn't functioning properly, unable to comprehend anything fully as he subconsciously grinds slowly to get used to the feeling. A whine escape him, his tongue lolling out as he drooled onto your body, too stupid and full to close his mouth.

A few tears run down his cheeks, making you fear that you hurt him, but from the way his body shook and cum squirted onto your stomach, Childe got an orgasm just from the sensation of your cock crushing his prostate. His head tilted back to take a large gulp of air, he blinked slowly, trying to come back to reality.

"Look at me."

It took him a few seconds to process your words before obeying, his head slowly raising until he was facing you, barely a few centimeters separating your faces. His breath hit your lips, his eyes glossy from the pleasure, the look in his eyes was absolutely breathtaking, giving you chills. They were far from dull and empty, their color and emotions were sucking you in until you won't have anything to give anymore. You were in awe, but also surprised by how fucked out of his mind he looked, despite only starting.

You smiled in amusement, one of your hands caressing his cheek and jaw before moving to his thighs, both hands grabbing the flesh before using your strength to move him up. In a whisper, you gave him your name after realizing that you never did. You murmur lowly in his ear, describing how tight and good he feels around you, how hard you could fuck him right now, and his cock throbbed back to life against his stomach.

With a delirious groan, you begin to move him up and down harshly, his hole clenches around you when only your tip remains inside him, and you are rewarded by a loud moan when you slam his hips back down, his body sucking you in greedily. Childe whines your name at first, before moaning and groaning it loudly, getting louder after each thrust, babbling to you and pleading for more. As he throws his arms over your shoulders, he moves his hips to help you move, raising his body as high as he could before letting down to fall down as harshly as he could.

More gasps of pleasure fill the room, his head thrown back as his eyelids flutter, but he tries to keep his eyes open, only for them to roll back when you accidentally hit his prostate dead on. A sob leaves his mouth, his lips twitching upwards as he jerks forward, kissing the corner of your lips, mouth at your jaw, bite at your neck to silence himself. He whispers words of encouragement into your ear, telling you to go harder, to spank him, hit him, choke him until you're satisfied.

With both your hands on his hips to move him up and down, make him grind down on you, you couldn't wrap your hand around his pretty neck even if you wanted to so badly.

For a moment, you thought he came as his hole tightened around you, spamming and trying to make you cum inside him. You watched as he only some pitiful small drops of cum roll down his cock, and without a second thought, you let go of his hips, uncaring if you bottom out once again as your hand slapped his ass. You mock him for having a dry orgasm before and now not even being able to cum, and you get rewarded with a loud moan and a plea for more, Childe's face becoming redder and his freckles stood out on his burning cheeks, the wetness of his tears and sweat making look ethereal.

Moving by himself, using his feet to push onto the bed, you caressed his body, scratching him and slapping him, watching in adoration as his cock jumped up a little every time and his knees buckled up. You slowly learned how and where to touch him, what part of his body could drive him insane in an instant. Observing him like a hawk, you drink in the sight of such a powerful man being reduced to nothing but a crying and fucked out man on a simple cock. His babbling is cut off by a loud moan when you pressed onto one of his recent scars, more cum coming out when you slap his cock or how tight he becomes when you hit his prostate or graze it gently.

Getting frustrated by how slow the pace is, you lift Childe up, ignoring his complaints and glare as you push him onto the bed, on all fours. He barely had the time to place his forearms down before you slam back into him, your grip bruising his hips as you go as hard as you can. Your hand sneaks to his throat, forcing his head back before tightening your fingers around it, your palm pressing against the front as Childe chokes. He moans in delight, pushing his hips back to meet your thrusts, his head going forward just so you can yank him back again.

His back flushed against your torso, the back of his head resting on your shoulders as you fuck him open, leaving him gaping whenever you pull out too much. He doesn't even have the time to complain before you use your hand to push yourself back in, your fingers digging into the side of his throat when he tries to talk or say anything. Childe is suffocating, suffering, his air flow is completely cut by your fingers, but has such a big smile on his face as his tongue wet his lips in delight.

His hips jerked up as you pressed your other hand onto his cock, rubbing it alongside your thrust. The pain and incredible stimulation make him cum on the spot, but you never stop moving, not caring about how long it takes him before being able to be hard and cum again. You ignore his whines as he tries to say something, his tip turning a deeper shade of red under the stimulation of your hand, your palm rubbing in circles like before on his tip.

You're still nice enough to let go when he starts to cry and cup his balls instead, gently massaging them. As your grip on his neck lessens, Childe thanks you over and over, telling you to be meaner and go harder on him, to not hold back. He even begs for you to slap him if he gets too loud which you do immediately, and he groans in delight, speaking even more so you could slap him again.

You slide a knee between his legs to force them apart a bit wider, speeding up your pace to bring yourself to this orgasm that has been growing inside you for such long minutes now. Your hand stays on Childe's neck, not tightening your hold for fear he would pass out, Childe's whimpers filling your ears like a melody, and you can't think anymore, only your instincts speaking.

Childe's throat is too dry to scream or moan anymore, but it doesn't stop him from whining your name, begging for you to cum in him. He could feel you move, the way your heavy cock dragged inside him, your tip grazing his prostrate every time, or this vein slightly pulsating, Childe was getting hyperaware of everything. Each of your touch was felt, affecting his mind, the pressure applied on his throat, your stomach clenching against his back, the trembling muscles of your arms, your legs shaking as you grow closer to your peak.

Each thrust goes as deep as it can, forcing his insides to accept your cock deeper, offering himself to your insatiable need. His stomach was exposed to your eyes, and you rested your chin on his shoulder, observing in fascination as you were able to perceive the movement of your cock, the small bump was even more noticeable than before. You grab Childe's hand and push it onto his stomach, letting him feel the way he's so tight around you, and it makes his eyes roll back. He was a whimpered mess, his body shaking in your hold, his weight fully resting on you.

Your stomach burns up as you feel closer, you try to keep edging yourself a bit more, dragging on the pleasure that you're feeling, as you didn't want everything around you to disappear yet. The addictive feeling of his body was getting to your head, making you dizzy, feeling high, and on the verge of falling into an endless pit.

Muscles roll under your skin as you chase after your release, using your last strength in your legs and hips to keep moving, grinding down onto him, not even able to pull out anymore. Between gasps and groans, you try to ask him if you can cum inside, and his only answer is your name and his hole clamping down around you so tightly that you can't pull out at all. Childe babbles, his cries and plea are impossible to be understood as his words get mixed together, he's completely overstimulated and losing his mind.

Your thrusts are harsh and deep, repetitive movements made without any thoughts behind them, just an overbearing need taking over and making sure you can reach your orgasm. You rail him, holding onto his forearms for leverage, his head slamming back onto your shoulder as his body trembled, the tension in his core getting to the breaking point.

At the same instant, something breaks inside you, and your own stomach tightens, abs burning as you flush your hips against his ass and cum inside him. You whimper his name, thankfully Childe was too fucked out to notice as you say his name over and over like a mantra, hips jerking a bit as you release inside him. Euphoria flows through your veins, your head spinning and your mouth getting dry, a pained moan escapes as you feel Childe tighten one last time around you before he goes limp.

He was still conscious enough to understand what happened, his body completely resting against yours, his legs too weak to hold him up. He turned his head, his lips against your ear as he sobbed, mumbling your name as he felt fuller than before, some drop leaking out of him and staining the bed. He moves his hips back slowly and tries to tighten around you more to help you feel completely satisfied.

The fact that he didn't even get to cum isn't bothering him, and Childe was convinced you wouldn't think about it until he felt your hand caress his stomach. A whimper greeted your ear when you graze his inner thighs, going up until you cup his balls, stroking his cock slowly and gently. Pained whines leave him, his sensitivity going through the roof, and even more when you use your other hand to rub the tip carefully with your thumb. You draw your hips back, positioning yourself in a way your tip drags against his prostate every time, just delicately pushing his buttons.

His face is flushed, his eyelashes wet and clamped together, his cheeks covered in dry tears, and his mouth wide open, lips drying out. Slowly, he feels his mind gets blank, his body gets unresponsive and when you murmur in his ear that he could cum, his reaction is instantaneous, his muscles tighten, his body shakes, and reaches his orgasm. But instead of cumming, you watch Childe squirt all over your hand and the bed, his eyes completely rolled back as he can't even speak, just kneeling there against you and letting go of everything, forming a small puddle in front of him.

It happens in an instant, but he turns his head to the side, your eyes meet, and before you can understand, his lips meet yours in a lazy kiss. It doesn't even last a few seconds as he passes out in your arms, eyes closed and breathing calm as he lays limp against you. Speechless, you lay him down on the bed, unconscious or asleep, you don't really know, as he didn't have enough stamina to stay awake any longer.

With a sigh, you get up with shaking legs, getting a towel and something to clean him up, taking the time to take a shower yourself and change into your previous pants before falling into the bed next to him. You discard the stained duvet without another thought, it was hot enough to sleep without one anyway.

You lay next to Childe in silence, unable to think properly as you're still high and ecstatic about what happened a few moments before, the pleasure still paralyzing your brain. In your mind, you're convinced that Childe will leave before the sun goes up, as soon as he wakes up, so you don't feel so worried about tomorrow. You're also almost certain that there won't be a tomorrow here, so you turn to Childe, looming over him with sharp eyes before leaning down and leaving a second and final kiss on his lips.

When you wake up the next day, the sun was already high in the sky, bathing the room in a warm and gentle atmosphere. There's no need to turn your head, as you already know Childe left, you can already feel the coldness that took place after his body left the bed and went away. But something else bothered you, it was the fact that you were still here, and it left a weird taste in your mouth, a feeling of unknown and fear that you did your best to forget.

You stood up with difficulties, your body aching from the previous night as you cleaned and changed the sheets, putting on your previous clothes once again, since you didn't have anything else right now. Stretching, you try to think about what you could do and end up deciding to discover and explore Liyue Harbor by yourself while you were still here.

The last thing that you expected when you opened the door was to see Childe stand there, leaning against the wall with a fresh set of clothes, he seemed to glow with happiness which was highly unusual. He gives you a playful smirk before standing tall, he offered you his hand, cheeks reddening and cute freckles standing out as he waited for you to do something, anything. A grin breaks onto his face as you step forward and let him grab your arm before dragging you out of the hotel, but he's kind enough to let you stop in front of the lobby to greet the woman from before, who smiles at you and wave since it was your first and last night here.

Unbeknownst to you, whenever Childe's skin gets in contact with yours, a bright blue mark on the back of your neck lights up, similar to his vision. And his own neck has a strange pure white mark that is hidden by his scarf.

And from afar, golden eyes glare at the sight.

A tall dark brown-haired man stares at the two of you, your scent seemed so familiar that he only wanted to get closer, but the scent of the man next to you was tainting it in the most disgusting way. He only wanted to smell that familiar fragrance that bring back a nice forgotten feeling from a long time ago.

His eyes become luminescent as his tail wages behind him, his horns resting majestically on top of his head, his stomach turning at the mixed fragrances coming from you. With a gentle smile, he goes back to work, thinking about how he could prepare your encounter with himself without scaring you, not wanting to come off as creepy and dangerous as Childe next to you.

He couldn't help but feel annoyed that the ginger managed to meet you before him, but he knows that he'll be able to get your attention on himself, and him only. He needed to do something about that obstacle, especially when he could see this blue mark on your nape, taunting him, tainting your body.

But he knows it won't last much longer, since he was here to take care of it.

⏤ Thank you for reading! I wish you a great day.

⏤ here is my masterlist & ko-fi ⏤

#male reader #top male reader #top reader #dom male reader #male reader insert #genshin x dom reader #genshin x male reader #genshin x reader #sub genshin x dom reader #x reader #reader #reader insert #dom reader #childe x reader #bottom childe #childe #genshin childe #tartagalia x reader #tartaglia x you #genshin tartaglia #tartaglia x reader #genshin smut #childe x you #childe x male reader #tartaglia x male reader #fatui harbingers

[tsykku]

I am having q!tubbo brain rot so have a slice of it.

I am so curious as to which direction Tubbo will take his character. Because nothing what q!tubbo does seems malicious or sometimes even intentional yet so many people take issue with him or his behaviour. And he is somewhat aware of that while at the same time, completely oblivious as to why or how deep the conflict goes.

You have the federation who cannot stand his arse. Who we know is paying extra attention to Tubbo and wants to arrest him the minute he even does something slightly illegal. While they have not arrested him yet, it is only a matter of time. So what do they do in the meantime? They use him as a scapegoat to nerf certain game mechanics or punish him extra harshly in comparison to others who did the exact same things or worse. Yet for some reason, the other qsmp members are under the impression that Tubbo never gets punished and that he is solely to blame for the create nerf, breeding animosity.

Then next, you have the antagonistic fights with Etoiles which started carefree and rather playful but now have been escalating in q!Etoiles telling the codes that Tubbo works with the federation. To be honest, Tubbo is absolutely partly to blame for this one with his cheeky comments to Etoiles about losing his fight with the code. However, it adds another dynamic layer of conflict to the situation.

Finally, you have the vendetta of Bad and Aypierre against Tubbo due to the controversial Tubhole. You can argue all day long about the logistics of Tubhole and whether Bad and Pierre are valid in their objections against it. But the facts remain that it is within Tubbo's rights to do so and that they have not given him the grace period to let him make it into a good build. It literally is still a work in process that has been going on for less than 24 Minecraft hours. And even if it turns out to be ugly, the fact that Tubbo has been building the Tubhole with only create machines is fucking cool and makes it worth it (in my opinion). Moreover, Bad and Pierre both have similar big projects and their concern that it is different because of the close proximity to spawn feels a bit hypocritical as there are other (big) projects near spawn that cause similar amounts of lag.

And now this vendetta has gone from convincing other islanders of how Tubbo must be stopped to them framing Tubbo for the kidnapping of Ron to Fred. A being that everyone on the island at this point knows is important to Tubbo. A relationship which is one of the only ones Tubbo has left, besides the morning crew. We already know how much the relationship between Fred and Tubbo affects Tubbo's emotions so what will losing Fred or their trust do to him?

So now you have this huge cluster of events that puts q!Tubbo in a situation where everyone is against him, the federation, the code entities and most of the islanders as well. An exception can be made for the morning crew however they do not seem to take Tubbo or his concerns seriously, treating it like the mischief and matters of a kid.

And most interestingly, it is still not clear what makes Tubbo so special. Is it his use of create mod? Aypierre, Ramon and Dapper do something similar. Is it his curiosity and distrust of the federation? Cellbit, Badboyhalo en Bagi are right there with him. Is it his apparent greed or selfishness with regard to resources? It is not like he has never shared them or that gathering resources is sole motivation. Is it his knowledge of Minecraft mechanics to break the lore/server? Philza and his fourth wall breaking say hello as does Aypierre. Is it his age then? His relentless attitude to anything that catches his attention? His endless curiosity?

It will be so interesting to see where all these points of contention will lead to and how q!Tubbo will react to it or change as a result of it. Currently, his only concerns are the potential romance with Fred and finishing the Tubhole so that he can get along with everyone again. So he clearly does not know yet how much trouble he truly is in or how the cards are stacked against him...

#qsmp #tubbo #q!tubbo #character analysis

[nanaminokanojo]

THAWING ICE QUEEN (part 109)

–one night of fooling around with the annoying campus king gojo satoru (he thinks so), turns into...well, something else more long term

CHARACTERS: gojo satoru x you | geto suguru | jjk characters

GENRE: college au | smut | smau | smau + prose | everything in between | ons | fubus to lovers | aged-up characters | idk where this is going

⚠️ TW/CW: strong/mature language | 🔞 | mentions of alcohol, smoking, etc. | this has narrations | god-awful pet names | will add more if something arises

MASTERLIST | CHAPTER INDEX

<<prev part 109 next>>

A/N: Contains prose. | cw: family angst and i didn't proofread yet so...

Deep breaths. You took them one at a time, hand hesitating on the doorbell. With each one, you composed yourself, calming the erratic beating of your heart and the way your hands trembled. Satoru was watching you, and after assuring him that you will be alright, you didn't want him to doubt that. Quelling your hesitation, you finally pressed the doorbell, turning slightly to wave haphazardly at your boyfriend who stood by the open door of the driver's side of his car. He waved back with an encouraging smile, and just then, the door opened.

"Miss L/N," your father's secretary greeted you with a bow, then his eyes strayed to Satoru. "Mr. Gojo can stay in the drawing room while you speak to your father."

You nodded, wondering if your dad finally decided on a change of tune or if it was yet another trick up his sleeves. Eyeing the man in earnest – both a plea and a threat – you said, "You may go ahead and ask him if he wishes to come in. If not, don't press it."

The response you got was a succinct nod and the secretary was opening the door wider for you, only leaving to go towards Satoru when you were already inside the house. Without waiting for the outcome of the ensuing conversation, you found your way to your father's study where he will most likely be.

How did it ever get to this? You couldn't help but think about all of the events that culminated to that single moment when you found yourself standing on the opposite side of the line from your father. The two of you had become as good as strangers, foes even, and you thought back on what you could have done to deserve the way he treated you for the better of your younger years to the present.

Then, at the back of your mind, you heard Sukuna's words to you, telling you that you were never at fault. Did you capitalize too much on that? Have you been a disappointment all along? At the end of the day, he was still your father, and maybe he had the right to decide on your life, you acknowledged that, but to what extent was it reasonable, fault or not?

The heavy oak doors stood before you. Several memories came to mind as you stood there, from how you would sneak in as a child, curious about all the things you saw inside the place that served as his refuge, particularly a glass paperweight that you marveled about. You later learned your mother gave it to him. After your mother died, you remembered his quiet sobs as you stood outside the door, and from there, the distance grew.

"Come in," you heard him from the other side of the door, and you did as you were told, slowly but deliberately opening and closing the door behind you. You remained standing there, the distance, ever growing between you, becoming even more palpable with each second that passed. After what happened, you didn't think you should be acting all familiar by taking a seat and invading his personal space. Despite it all, you still held respect for him, if not as a parent, then as a person.

He sighed, looking up from the papers he was signing. He motioned towards one of the couches, silently telling you to sit. He looked tired, older, but the sharpness of those eyes didn't dull in the least, observant as always. You admired the intelligence that shone in his eyes, what you detested was the cool detachment that came with it as if it would kill him to show warmth even just a little.

Acceding, you made your way to the seat he indicated, placing the file you were holding on the center table. It might have been a trivial gesture, but in your heart, it was a way to show you still considered an alternative to permanently cutting ties with him.

"I heard Gojo Satoru came with you," he began, somehow managing to look both smug and irritated at the thought. He chuckled. "I have to hand it to him. He knows how to play his cards well. Perhaps the board of directors at Gojo Group should watch their backs. Even I wasn't expecting that."

You merely nodded.

"He loves you, I can see that."

You smiled ever so slightly at that. "I don't doubt it. He doesn't exactly like working, much less taking over a company."

He put his pen down, standing up to his full height. Your father is an impressive man, commanding and confident. You've seen him in court, too, and he is a formidable force in his industry. You aspired to be like him no matter how many times you denied ever wanting to have anything to do with him and turning out to be like him.

He stood there, silently observing you while you just looked down at the table, unable to meet his gaze, but unable to endure it, you said, "I kept my end of our deal."

"I know that. Your friends –"

"– aren't the useless bunch you thought I run with –"

"And they'll protect you with everything they've got even if it means going against me," he supplied. "I know that now, Y/N."

"Merely knowing doesn't change a thing." You finally met his eyes, the animosity seeming to dissipate as you strengthened your resolve to decide without his influence, and just consider how you felt for once.

"But it does." He walked towards the shelf, fetching the decanter of his favorite whiskey, silently offering some to you but you declined, shaking your head. "What do you mean?"

"I see a great deal of myself in Gojo Satoru." At that, he smirked as if he was reliving a bittersweet memory. "I know that look of determination, that profound urge to protect you just to keep you by his side by all means regardless of who he has to go against.

I recognized that look on his face when he looked at you with so much longing when we met him at your university; the triumph and affection when he pulled you to his side along with the war he waged against me for making you unhappy..."

"That one thinks he'll win in anything."

"So did I, and that's all I've ever done." He shrugged. "I do not discount the fact that he has the means to do whatever he wanted, but what's so profound about it is his drive and single-mindedness to have you

I don't know if your aunt told you, but your grandfather hated me enough to want to kill me." He scoffed but it was without its usual edge. "Gangsters."

That was a surprise. "Grandpa seems to like you," you countered, sure that memory serves you right. You didn't hate your dad because old man Itadori asked you to understand him more. You didn't say that out loud.

Your dad shook his head. "Not always. He always threatened me every chance he got. Behind your mom's back, of course. He acted all nicely when he knows she's around.

I had to fight tooth and nail to gain his approval, perhaps even his affection. He didn't like me even when your mother already decided to marry me, even when she was pregnant with you."

"What changed?"

He smiled at you then, and you could see just why your mom fell for him. "You were born." He sat down across you, legs crossing as he took a sip from his drink. "And you're her spitting image, Itadori Wasuke's favorite daughter. You should have seen the look on his face when he first saw you. He looked at me as if I gave him the greatest gift in the world."

The thought of it hurt you even more, causing you to stand enraged. What was the point of telling you? Everyone else in your family showed you just how important you are to them, it didn't have to come from him. He didn't have any right. "But you hate me," you lashed out, tears falling from your eyes.

"No, honey, I don't –"

"Yes, you do! I know mom died because she got sick after giving birth to me. And you blamed me for it enough to send me away! You don't even want to see me. You think I didn't hear your conversations with Aunt? The way you treat my cousins as if they're dirt under your shoes? And then what? You suddenly decided you wanna be my dad? Make that make sense!"

You were shaking from all the yelling you did, but oddly enough, it felt cathartic, your pain ebbing away with each word you uttered. It made you realize you still held him dear to you in spite of the anger; that you still craved his attention, affection and approval. Because in your heart of hearts, he is still your only family and it hurt you that he didn't want you.

"I don't hate you and neither do I harbor the same emotion for your aunt and your cousins, especially Sukuna," he stated, reaching out to you to placate you, pulling you into his arms except you refused. Still, he held you tight, soothing your back. "What have I done to you?"

"You hate me," you whispered through sobs.

"Forgive me. I loved your mother so much that I couldn't bear the thought of destroying you, too, in the process of me falling apart. I didn't give you away. I thought...I thought you'd be better off with people who can give you all the love you deserved, but I ended up doing just that.

Forgive me for not having the courage to look you and your cousins in the eye because you all have so much of your mom in all of you, and instead of reveling in it, it only reminded me of my loss."

"You weren't the only one who lost her."

"I know. I see it now." He breathed in deeply. "Forgive me for my groundless fear when I learned you were seeing Satoru, thinking so much ahead of myself, afraid you will end up like your mom and that I'll lose you, too. I'm so sorry. I'm a shitty father, I know that."

You scoffed, looking at him. "You were."

"I don't hate you, Y/N. You're all that I've left of your mother. How can I?" Tears shone in his eyes, but he tried his best not to cry, but the agony showed in his eyes, a spark of tje warmth you've always craved for finally there for you to see. He sighed. "You don't have to go if you don't want to."

"I don't..." You calmed down a tad, your sobs reducing to sniffles, suddenly preoccupied about what he said about Satoru. "What about Satoru? Why did you bother enough to do..." You stepped back, a little exasperated. "...all of this..."

For the first time, your dad looked ashamed of himself. "I guess I was going through every father's nightmare. I understood your grandfather when Sukuna said you were different around Satoru."

"I didn't realize that either until you showed up in Hokkaido." You shivered inwardly at the way you treated Satoru back then upon reflecting on them. "You don't like him."

He flashed you a rueful smile, but that dissipated into annoyance. "I did a background check on him. He's a playboy and I only had Sukuna's words to vouch for him where your wellbeing was concerned."

You couldn't help the laughter that bubbled up in your throat. "I'm not proud of it, but if you should know, I was the asshole in our relationship."

He frowned, both at your choice of words and the thought of you being the bad guy. "That doesn't sound right."

"But it's true. I put him through too much."

"Do you love him?"

You nodded, motioning to pick up the document you brought with you. "Enough to fight you in court for absolute emancipation, Atty. L/N." You waved the file in front of you. "Glad we didn't have to go there."

Your father regarded the file with sorrow in his eyes and finally, his tears fell. "You're so much like your mother."

You shook your head. "No, dad. I'm a lot more like you." You shrugged, tossing the file back on the table, composing yourself despite the emotions overflowing in you, and your dad did the same. You got your emotional constipation for him for sure. Your mom had too big of a heart not to show affection, or so you remembered.

"So...Gojo Satoru..."

"Yes."

He scrunched his nose. "You couldn't have fallen for Nanami Kento instead?"

"Dad!" You snickered. "Ken is a very good friend. He's a bit scary though. Very much like a father."

"I wouldn't have disapproved of him."

"Satoru isn't bad at all."

"He's too pretty for a boy."

"I know right?" You flashed him a worried look. "Can I please introduce him to you formally now?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"No. Be nice."

"Fine. As long as he doesn't call me father-in-law just yet."

You fell into easy laughter, finally having the kind of conversation you wish you've always had with him. And it felt good even if you missed all those years you should have spent that way with him. There's more to look forward to.

TAGS LIST: @arxliana @neeneee @charlie-xo @aelynaneedsalottathing @arizzu @cloudxp @justpuddinglol @mikkies @nyfwyeonjun @whats-humanity-lol @letthewindlead @whore-of-many-hot-men @localgaytrainwreck @pikibee @bloombb @mr-underhills-things @lysaray @chocoyanchan @poemzcheng @bookswillfindyouaway @dreamxiing @koutaroo @taelattecookie @kazuhasmaid @weebbuscuit @moonmalice @taengkatsu @reagan707 @to0ruu @shirabane @yell0wdreams @r0ckst4rjk @megtheebimbo @tmvll9 @kibananya @ti-mame @niko-ash @minzxec @sixxze

© ORIGINAL WORK BY nanaminokanojo. CHARACTERS ARE INSPIRED BY GEGE AKUTAMI’S JUJUTSU KAISEN. [20240422]

PHOTO/IMAGE/GIF/FANART/ANY MEDIA CREDITS TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.

#gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo #gojo satoru #gojo smut #gojo fluff #gojo smau #gojo hcs #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen smau #jjk smau #jjk smut #jjk fluff #sukuna #geto suguru #social media au #smau

[einsatzzz]

[Project] (KH)Re:born!!!

I've been wanting to do a pinned post talking/rambling about my projects, so I'll do it now while I've still got some free time!

Anyway, for various reasons including wanting to keep it simple (for goldfish brain reasons), @amiahoshi and I decided to call this project "Katekyo Hitman Re:born!!!". We call it either Re:born!!! or KHRe for short. I also tried editing a title logo out of it some time ago (inspired from the og logo) for whenever it will be necessary!

Actually, I've just been tagging posts under this project under #khre (since mid-2023) because when I type #khr, I'll immediately remember to also type #khre. Anyway, more info below! (Ein from the future: it will be long)

Note: For any typos/grammatical mistakes, sorry not sorry this is just me rambling, so no beta we die like Tsuna did every time Reborn shoots him in Daily Life Arc.

TLDR: This project has become like my creative sandbox playground. The KHR brainrot is still going VERY STRONG, and has been for the past two years. I can't believe I didn't discover this series earlier. I am so normal about KHR.

It's also inspired from T//oky//o Gh//oul's title, where it had "T//G:re". And it really just emphasizes the "Re" on "Reborn", meaning "again, do over".

In KHR, besides being named after our fave baby hitman Reborn, this concept also connects to a lot of the themes in the show, especially with Tsuna and his Dying Will Mode. Then there's also the whole Vongola 10th generation, who seem like the reincarnation or the "second coming" of the Vongola 1st generation. I'm sure there are others I haven't noticed yet or just forgot to mention here!

Anyway, KHRe is sort of a similar universe to canon, but not exactly the same. There will be additional characters, which are mostly our OCs from the Oniyanagi yakuza family for now, then there will also be modifications/additions to the story/lore as well (e.g. certain arcs/chapters will be rearranged, certain events will happen earlier). Tsuna retains his protagonist role in KHRe as well (im so fond of him), but he will also be joined in this role by the twin bosses from Oniyanagi, Kana and Kurumi.

Kana and Kurumi's addition here really puts the emphasis on the "Re", because their individual overarching stories provide more interpretations to the word itself "Reborn", which adds onto Tsuna's.

The tldr of the premise so far is that Oniyanagi and Vongola are business partners, so shortly after Tsuna met Reborn and Gokudera, the twins and Yui (their right-hand man) transferred to Namimori. This is so that they can help each other to grow and with their respective training as well to become future bosses of their Family (Tsuna doesn't want to become one of course! lol).

Along with Kana & Kurumi, three of their guardians (incldg Yui) tagged along with their move to Namimori, while two of them remained in their previous city of residence (Tokyo). In their guardian line-up, they currently have an empty seat for the Sun Guardian and they're still actively looking for the one fit for it. Perhaps they'll find them in Namimori? (Spoilers: Yes, they will. Their full line-up is here.)

So far, the major ambitious projects I have under this one are as follows:

Oniyanagi Wiki: This is a wiki site I made in Miraheze. I'll put it in public mode once I finish cleaning up Kurumi's character profile. We plan on compiling all character/group/story infos here for KHRe, which will also include AUs and alternate timelines. If there will be a lot of story divergence with certain canon characters, we'll also make a page for them there too (from the top of my head, so far, it will be Tsuna, Hibari, Enma, Kyoko & Haru). This is the project I've made most progress on so far, I learned a fair amount about making wiki pages hahaha.

KHRe Webcomic: A webcomic that features KHRe's story. Just like canon, it starts with Daily Life Arc. Right now, I'm just thinking of drawing intro chapters for Kurumi, Yui and then Kana for it. But I'm also tempted to just go full-fledged webcomic retelling of majority of KHRe lol like just for deadass committing to the bit. I just really think it will help me improve my art a lot because it will force me to draw other stuff I haven't tried to seriously learn how to draw before (like have you seen the improvement in TOG Webtoon's art style??! Damn...I want that too.) KHRe also has stories that continue past KHR's final arc. I want that high school, TYL and alternate future timeline content too y'know! I think I want to finish drawing at least one chapter by Q4 2024, I'll have a lot of time to focus on this after my exam on June.

Into the Looking Glass: This is a Horror RPGMaker game in the planning stage and it features a prequel story for Kurumi's childhood (around 8-9 years old). Long story short, it does follow the classic formula of a small kid exploring a scary/creepy place by themselves. Don't worry, she will also have a companion or two here! (So...just like Ib.) The title is very much still subject to change, but I referenced Alice in Wonderland for it. Because it's Baby Kurumi (Alice) stumbling in an otherworldly place (Wonderland) and the events that take place moving forward changes her life. I already have a plot and ending(s) in mind, just need to write a script. This will take a very long time to complete, but I wanna finish it eventually because I'm also a big fan of Horror RPGMaker games and I've always wanted to make one (this is my chance! I alr have a story! Just need to write and execute it!). Here's a very old concept art of the baby! I'll draw a new updated one when I get the time (the only biggest change here will probably just be the eye pupils, which really isn't much).

KHRe Test Game (no title yet): Less ambitious than previous three. This will be a very short RPGMaker Game with Tsuna as MC. This is just me testing and learning the features of RPGMaker before I go do more work for Into the Looking Glass. The game is just about Tsuna being invited to the Ninomiya Estate by Kurumi and he has a very "fun" time there 😂👍✨ (just like a normal Daily Life Arc episode~). It won't be horror, but maybe for Tsuna it will be 😀 So far, I managed to make a map for Tsuna's room (and some other parts of the Sawada Residence) for the intro scene hehe

As for other projects that are less ambitious and more doable in a shorter time, I do have MV Projects for KHRe plus a few shorts (like this one) I plan on drawing them in. I listed my priorities here (along with the major projects) and will try to update when I can (ideally, at least monthly...but definitely not for June 💀).

That's all for now! THANK YOU FOR COMING TO MY TED TALK!! (seriously...because this turned out so much longer than I thought it would be 🗿...I will now proceed to hide under the rock again).

Any questions are always welcome and very very appreciated! 👀✨I really just love talking about this series, OCs (mine and others') and my projects!

#khr #katekyo hitman reborn #khre #khr oc #oniyanagi #sawada tsunayoshi #ninomiya kurumi #ninomiya kanako #einart #einproject #i typed all of this while trying not to pass out from being eepy #i did pass out in the end but i finished it #hahahaha #had to go do hand-to-hand combat vs my anxious brain just to click post on this one bruh

[lockdaisy]

How Resident Evil 4 Remake Makes it More Explicit that Leon’s Life SUCKS

While Resident Evil 4 Remake's new introduction insinuates it, supplemental material��makes it explicitly clear that the ONLY reason Leon joined the government as a special agent after the events of RE2 was because they threatened to MURDER Sherry, a little girl, if he refused to work for them. In other words, Leon gave up his freedom for Sherry's safety. Actually, to put it even more bluntly, it means that the US government essentially enslaved Leon, who was already severely traumatized by the events of Raccoon City, and forced him to continuously re-traumatize himself over and over again by forcing him to undergo brutal training and throw himself into life-threatening missions where he endlessly has to fight against bioterrorist monstrosities

(I’ll add the rest under a read more to avoid cluttering the tag)

This fact adds a lot of tragic irony to the story and a lot of tragic elements to Leon's character as a whole. First, Leon, who the government enslaved into working for them by threatening a girl he viewed as his daughter figure, was assigned to rescue Ashley, the daughter of the president of the US government, and I can barely believe that the government had the temerity to give Leon that mission in light of his circumstances

Second, it makes the scene where Ashley, inspired by Leon, excitedly talks about her desire to become an agent "just like Leon" and go on missions "protecting the US from any and all threats" take a far more tragically ironic, painful turn since, unbeknownst to her, Leon very much did not willingly join the government, and she's talking about protecting the very government that enslaved her savior

Third, it really highlights Leon's inherent kindness. Although you could argue that Leon had no choice but to save Ashley, there was nothing that forced him to be kind to her. Even though Leon has all the reason in the world to hate her, since she's the daughter of one of the men who enslaved him, he nevertheless was nothing but kind, patient, and selfless to her, which emphasizes the intrinsic goodness of Leon's character

Fourth, it really makes RE4's ending a lot more bittersweet and Leon's character a lot more tragic. Considering the fact that Leon singlehandedly rescued the President's daughter, you'd think that that would've been enough for the government to grant Leon and Sherry their freedom, right? You'd think that President Graham, who must have known about Leon's circumstances and who is completely beholden to him for saving his daughter's life and preventing a huge bioterrorist catastrophe in the United States, would set Leon and Sherry free, right? Wrong. From what we saw in the other games and movies, Leon is still enslaved. In fact, in RE6, it was even made clear that they not only refused to grant Leon and Sherry their freedom, but that they didn't even allow Leon to watch Sherry, the girl he sacrificed his freedom for, grow up, and they put him and Sherry under the control of the legitimately monstrous Derek Simmons. So even though Leon sacrificed his freedom for Sherry, just because Simmons hated him due to the fact that he thought that he was “stealing” Ada from him, he was basically NEVER allowed to visit Sherry. And since RE6 made it clear that Leon became highly suicidal and that the only reason that he forced himself to stay alive was to protect Sherry, it really just makes Leon's life all the more tragic. He saved the President's daughter, he saved the world, again and again, but nobody will ever save him, and he will forever remain enslaved by the U.S. government

And... overall while I love the fact that they did imply it, since they never even did that much in the original RE4, I do wish that the game made it more explicitly clear that Leon was forced to work for the government against his will because 1) it adds a really fascinating element to Leon's character since he is the only member of the cast who was essentially enslaved in the fight against bioterrorism, 2) it would have really strengthened the parallels between Leon and Krauser since it would make it more clear that the US government screwed them both over in their own ways, and 3) it really explains Leon's grumpier, more cynical attitude in the game

I also think it's strange that Capcom goes back and forth between acknowledging and ignoring this part of Leon's character and lore, and I think it's kind of sad since it distorts the perception of Leon's character as a whole in the fandom. For example, in Infinite Darkness, it can basically be argued that the reason why Leon did what he did at the end was because he CAN’T go against the government's wishes without endangering Sherry's life. (And I’m not blaming Claire for being mad at him, either, since there’s a good chance that he kept the fact that they’re holding Sherry’s life over his head a secret from her in order to protect her from being targeted by the government). Instead, because Capcom doesn't really focus on his circumstances, it just makes it look like he's a government shill

It’s just... so tragic. Unlike Jill, Chris, and Claire, Leon literally had no choice in his career against bioterrorism. He didn’t become a special agent of his own volition; he was enslaved. And the only reason Claire didn’t end up in the exact same circumstances was because Leon, knowing that she still needed to find her brother Chris, encouraged her to go look for him, promising that it would be ok for her to do so since he would look after Sherry. And because of that, Claire left before she could get captured by the government like Leon and Sherry did, and so she got to have her freedom. And the only reason why Leon is still enslaved to this very day is because he cares about Sherry’s safety so much that he was willing to sacrifice his freedom for her. In other words, Leon ended up suffering because of his kindness. He was punished for being kind

And despite all that, even though his kindness directly contributes to his suffering, Leon still chooses to be kind and selfless anyway, and that’s just so... 

I love him

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #resident evil 4 #resident evil 4 remake #re4r #re4 remake #resident evil #re #re4 #not op #lockdaisy speaks #leon scott kennedy

[ash-arts-a-thing]

Chapter 6 event notes are finally here.

Sorry this took so long, it seems this was the chapter people were most excited for, but it’s finally finished. I didn’t have a beta reader this time so I hope they’re still okay.

[Character Notes] [Chapters 1-3] [Chapters 4&5]

Specter Carlo AU Chapter 6

• Upon entering Rosa Isabella Street in a lie playthrough Gemini will still have his regular dialogue, but there will also now be new dialogue with Carlo.

Carlo: “The Opera House, huh? My… friend, loved the Opera House. He was big into theatre.”

Gemini: “He was? Did you two ever go there together? What were the shows like?!”

Carlo: “We… We never got the chance to go.”

Gemini: “Oh. I’m sorry.”

Carlo: “Don’t worry about it. Please.”

• The White Lady will not be aware of Carlo.

• Upon the White Lady’s death Carlo will comment: “What a waste. She had such a beautiful voice when she was still able to sing.”

• Julien will not be aware of Carlo.

• Carlo will have different dialogue depending on whether Julien was lied to or not:

Truth: “Would it have killed you to show the guy a little compassion? Puppet or not, he seemed to really love his wife.”

Lie: “Do you think a human and a puppet can really have a relationship like that? Hmm… whatever makes them happy.”

• Carlo will be unable to comment while Pinocchio travels up the road toward the Opera House due to the over abundance of fire.

• Upon entering the Opera House, Carlo will be as active as he was at Krat Grand Central Station in the floors reflections, though the inconsistencies from Chapter 1 will be far more obvious rather than subtle

• The first thing Carlo will say, when he gets the chance to, is about the Mad Clown that Pinocchio had just defeated, “I don’t know what was going through their heads when they designed that because that is NOT child friendly.”

• Once Pinocchio is first inflicted with disrupt Carlo will comment: “Be more cautious with the puppets around here, a lot of them have ergo disrupting attacks. Getting hit with those feels… bad, to say the least.”

• After defeating the first opera spider Carlo will comment: “I think this might be my least favourite puppet design.” If it’s a truth playthrough he will add: “Hmmm… maybe my second least favourite.”

• Adelina is not aware of Carlo, her dialogue remains unchanged, thought he will comment on her both after talking to her the first time and if she is given the apple.

• After the first conversation Carlo will say “Isn’t… this who the White Lady was talking about? She thought Adelina…”

• If Adelina was given the apple Carlo will say, “Hope she enjoys that. I don’t think there’s another apple left in all of Krat at this point.”

• If Adelina is not given the apple Carlo will say, “I’m pretty sure you don’t eat so what on earth are you saving that for. Just give her the damn fruit.”

• Carlo will have new dialogue options before fighting Romeo

These dialogue options are:

“Would you ever go to a show here?”

Carlo: “If that’s what my friend wanted, and we had the money to, I would’ve gone with him without hesitation.”

“How can disruption hurt so much?”

Carlo: “Something to do with you ergo, I’m not the best when it comes to explaining this stuff. I just know that whatever was disrupting you could disrupt me too and it did not feel good.”

“Tell me about this boss.” (He will have multiple responses to this.)

1. [Truth] “Not sure what you expect me to tell you that you don’t already know because I don’t know jack about this thing.”

2. [Lies] “Your guess is as good as mine, so keep your guard up.”

3. [Truth] “It’s bigger than you, I’m sure.”

4. [Lies] “it’s probably going to try to throw you around like that giant cop puppet. Make sure your healed up before we go in.”

5. [Lies] “I wish this wasn’t the reason I was able to visit here for the first time.”

Battle dialogue for phase 1: King of Puppets:

1. “I didn’t like the look of that play. [Lies] It felt like a threat… or a warning.”

2. “That voice…”

3. “Wait- No I have to be hearing things.”

4. “No it can’t be him-!”

Battle dialogue for phase 2: Romeo:

• Note that Carlo will refuse to fight during phase 2, if Romeo targets him Carlo will only block.

1. “Romeo!”

2. “Please, you have to stop this- we’re not the enemy!”

3. “Don’t hurt him!” (Whether he’s talking to Romeo or P can be taken either way depending on the playthrough)

4. “Romeo you can’t keep this up, please I can’t lose you again!”

• Upon defeating Romeo a short in game cutscene will play, Romeo will drop to his knees and Carlo will rush to his side. They will then have the following dialogue:

Romeo: “You’re just as strong as I remember you being, my heart. A truly unstoppable force, you and your new puppet friend. I’m sorry it took me this long to come to my senses.”

Carlo: “Did you see yourself? You were quite literally on fire. (Carlo forces a laugh) Now let’s just… let’s get you back to the hotel. We can get you fixed up there.”

Romeo: “Oh Carlo, I don’t know if I can make it that far, you might have to- ugh- put me out of my misery.”

Carlo: “Don’t talk like that! As long as he helps us we’ll make it! He has to help us- I- please. He’s all I have left.”

• Pinocchio will now have the option to either spare or kill Romeo.

• This choice will have the most drastic consequences of the playthrough as it will cement the way Carlo views Pinocchio for the rest of the game.

• Depending on the choice a different cutscene will play out for both scenarios.

[Kill]

Pinocchio will approach the duo, blade at the ready to strike Romeo down. The tip of Pinocchio’s blade will be raised to rest upon the center of his chest, the light ‘tink’ of metal against metal could be heard for miles in the quiet of the room. Carlo will exclaim, “No! What’re you doing?! We can make it back to the Hotel, just help me get him there, please! Please!!!”

Carlo will then attempt to push Pinocchio’s blade away, but since he is the Specter his hand will harmlessly pass through the blade.

Romeo will place his hand on Carlo’s shoulder before calmly saying, “My heart, it’s okay, it’s better this way. I’ve already hurt both you and your friend, I don’t know what I’d do if I some how… killed you again.”

Carlo will then spit back, “Screw this puppet! If he kills you he’ll never be considered my ‘friend’! In fact, I’d go as far to call him a dead man!”

Romeo will get serious, his face stern as he firmly replies, “Do not hold it against him. You and I both know this is for the best.”

Carlo won’t reply, instead choosing to firmly press his lips to his boyfriends one last time. The kiss will hold for a few seconds before Romeo gasps, Pinocchio’s blade sinking into his chest far enough to pierce through his back.

Romeo will quickly go slack, sliding lifelessly off the blade before hitting the floor with a loud metallic thunk. Carlo will stare in stunned silence for a few seconds before a scream of ‘no’ will be ripped from him. If he were human, the scream would’ve caused enough strain on his vocals to draw blood. Rather than throwing himself on Romeo’s body before he vanishes, Carlo will snap to look up at Pinocchio, eyes red and waves of energy flaring off his body as he stands.

Carlo’s hands will be shaking at his sides as he hisses through clenched teeth, “You. I’ll KILL you!!”

As he lunges for Pinocchio, hands raised and aiming for the puppets neck, Carlo will vanish just as the tips of his fingers would make an attempt at contact at fair skin.

Pinocchio is then left alone as the scream of fury rings through theatre.

[Spare]

Pinocchio will approach the duo, blade at his side as he kneels in front of Romeo. His gaze will snap to Carlo as the Specter speaks, “Please. I don’t know if it will even mean anything to you, but I-,” Carlo will look to Romeo briefly before looking back, face certain and voice confident, “I love him more than life itself.”

At that Pinocchio will blink and tilt his head slightly before his gaze once again lands on Romeo. A beat will pass before he repositions his weapon in his hand, holding the majority of its handle out to Carlo. Carlo will look between him and blade before hesitantly taking it from Pinocchio’s hand.

Pinocchio will then position himself to help the other puppet up, using his legion arm to throw Romeo’s arm over his shoulders and positioning his human arm around the others waist to steady him.

Clenching his teeth and grunting in pain, Romeo will finally speak up, “Are you sure you can do this? I don’t want to slow you two down.”

Pinocchio will remain unfazed, having more than enough strength to flat out just carry Romeo. In response to the question he will nod.

Another hiss of pain, “Alright. Thank you.”

Carlo will release a shaky exhale, taking the lead in front of the two in order to fend off anything that might get in their way. Romeo will strain a laugh, saying, “I know he’ll say it later, but he’s very grateful, trust me. That’s the most emotion I’ve seen from in… quite some time.”

The scene will fade as they make their way out of the theatre doors.

From here notes will be more heavily separated between lie and truth playthroughs as the dialogue differences and interactions between Pinocchio and Carlo will be much more numerous.

[Truth]

• If Pinocchio has chosen to kill Romeo, the rest of the chapter will play out as normal. Carlo will not comment again until returning to the hotel.

• Dialogue from Gepetto, as well as everyone else in the Hotel, will remain unchanged.

• Carlo will have new, and much more hostile dialogue, when spoken to at the mirror.

These dialogue options are:

“Are you okay?“

Carlo: “Don’t you dare ask me if I’m okay. You’re lucky I can’t get my hands on you because if I could I would rip that heart right out of your chest and watch as the light leaves those glass eyes of yours.”

“I’m sorry.”

Carlo: “No. You arent. You’re programmed to think you are and even if you were actually sorry… it isn’t going to bring back the one thing that made my life worth living.”

“What are you thinking about?”

1. “Im thinking about how great it would be if you got the hell away from me.”

2. “Why do you care? Why don’t you go suck up to that bag of dust you call a ‘father’ instead of pestering me.”

3. “You’re going to get what’s coming to you. Just you wait.”

4. “I wanted it to rain again but… whatever. Leave me alone.”

[Lies]

[Optional]

•There is an optional moment where the player will play as Carlo, he will help lead Pinocchio and Romeo through Krat to reach the hotel.

• Pinocchio and Romeo will act as followers in this scenario and will have seperate walking animations depending on speed.

Walking: Romeo will walk while leaning against Pinocchio.

Jogging: Pinocchio will be stabilizing Romeo as he leans more heavily against P.

Sprinting: Pinocchio will have no choice but to just pick Romeo up and carry him to keep up.

• Since Carlo does not have a legion arm himself using the legion button will cause Pinocchio to use whatever arm he has equipped to help if needed.

• There will not be any mini bosses, but there will be more minor enemies than when passed through with Pinocchio

• Upong returning to the hotel, with Carlo and Romeo in Pinocchio’s company, the next time he talks to Gepetto will be more of a confrontation between him and Carlo

• The father and son will bicker back and forth while Romeo and Pinocchio watch

Gepetto: “Ah, my son, you’ve returned. I trust that… you…”

Carlo: “Hello, ‘father’.

Gepetto: “Carlo? How can you-“

Carlo: “The better question is: how can YOU? How can you go around calling that puppet your son? How can you suddenly act like you care even the SLIGHTEST bit about me OR him?!

Gepetto: “Just let me-“

Carlo: “No! I don’t want to hear it! All you’ve done is use him to do your dirty work and what’s worse, you tried to have him kill Romeo! You knew how much he meant to me and you STILL tried to have him killed and on top of that you… Look at what you did to him.”

Gepetto: “Destroying him would have been for the greater good-“

Carlo: “The greater good? My ass for the greater good! You only chose killing him over any other option because you knew how close we were.”

Gepetto: “You don’t know-“

Carlo: “I know enough. I’m out of here.”

Carlo will then storm off, the sound of him stomping down the hall and finishing with the sound of Pinoccchio’s bedroom door slamming shut.

• Carlo can be found in Pinocchio’s room until the next time P leaves Hotel Krat.

• Romeo will be taken to Eugénie where he will recieve repairs throughout the rest of game.

Talking to Carlo again before leaving will yield more dialogue options:

“Are you okay?”

Carlo: “… I’m fine. Don’t worry about me, I’ll get over it. Shrugging off my father has become second nature to me at this point.”

“Gepetto is your father?”

Carlo: “I should’ve told you sooner, but can you blame me? You were pretty much made to be my replacement or something. All those years I was left to rot in that hole… at least two good things came from it though. Something about Sophia is… off though.”

“Will Romeo be okay?”

Carlo: “Romeo is stronger than he looks. I bet by this time tomorrow he’ll be walking around like nothing happened, heheh… At least, I hope he is.”

“What are you thinking about?”

1. “It’s… really good to have Romeo back. I wasn’t expecting to ever see him again.”

2. “Sophia is going to be surprised to see Romeo and I again, it’ll be nice to talk to her.”

3. “I wonder if can play the piano with this body, maybe I can finally give you that show I promised.”

4. “I my favourite book is still downstairs. I never get tired of reading the story of Pinocchio, you should read it sometime.”

Most of the Hotel residents will also have something to say about Romeo and Carlo:

Antonia: “It’s been so long since I’ve seen those boys. It’s good to be able to see them again, even in the states they’re currently in.”

Eugénie: “Don’t worry, Romeo is in good hands with me and Venigni, we’ll make sure he gets patched up. His friend is welcome to come oversee his repairs anytime. Carlo was his name, right?”

Gepetto: “Please, leave me be, son. You have much more work to do in Krat.”

Venigni: “Ah, so good to see young Carlo and his ‘friend’ again. He deserved so much better than what happened to him, it’s good to see he’ll have a second chance.”

Polendena: “Master Carlo has changed in many ways since we’ve last met and yet, he’s stayed the same in some ways as well. I’m sure he and Romeo will fit in nicely at the Hotel.”

Sophia: “They’ve both changed so much, but I suppose I have too. It will be nice to have a chance to talk to them again, thank you for bringing them both back.”

• Even if Carlo isn’t spoken to before P leaves he can be recruited as a follower, a prompt will ask if P wants to bring him along.

• Carlo will head back to the hotel before his health can hit zero, once he heads back he’ll have to be recruited again.

• He will act pretty much the same as he does in boss fights, but he will only attack something that is actively trying to harm P rather than running off to fight whatever he sees.

• If P doesn’t see an item Carlo has a chance to point it out to him or he will ask to get it himself to which he will either stay with P or run off the grab it.

• Carlo will have his own weapon that will change every chapter like with regular boss fights, but if he is acting as a follower it’s possible to change it through P’s inventory.

#Specter Carlo AU #lies of p #carmeo #pinocchio #Carlo #Romeo #gepetto #lorenzini venigni #eugenie #Sophia #pulcinella #Polendina #Antonia

[deusvervewrites]

luminary: How does Izuku do in the sports festival

Um. Whoops.

After careful consideration of the abilities of the students in 1-A and 1-B, the canonical entrance exam, and the hypothetical abilities of the Aldera Squad following Midoriya's advice, I believe that Uraraka, Mineta, and Tsuburaba would not have made the cutoff into the Hero Course.

In 1-A, I am replacing them with the girl who can control water and the girl who can control wind, under the assumption that with training they'd be on par with basic waterbending and airbending. In 1-B I have replaced him with the girl who can turn into fire, under the assumption that she can turn part or all of herself into fire and not just her hands.

That leaves five of them in Gen-Ed where I am certain they would befriend Uraraka. This AU wouldn't go full Gen Ed Sweep but Midoriya would be interested in helping out his friends who didn't quite make it, and that now includes Uraraka.

With that established, I can now discuss the actual event.

Midoriya is simply too fast for an Obstacle Race to matter. That entire event has to be changed. Hmm... what about a version of King of the Hill where players have to stay within a specific, shrinking area? That would handle the mass elimination event while still challenging someone as fast as Midoriya. Additionally, this event would work out great for four of the five Aldera Squad kids that are in Gen Ed (smoke boy, hair girl, rock boy, stronk boy).

Cavalry Battle teams would be different. Todoroki's team would probably be the same, but Midoriya would stick with his friends. There's enough that Uraraka would probably be on a different team, and Midoriya would be a horse to exploit his speed. Let's pair him with the Wind Girl; that'll be a busted combo. add Smoke Boy as another horse and the Hair Girl as the rider they're incredibly fast, flying team, that'll be nigh-impossible to catch.

Uraraka can use a similar strategy by pairing up with the fire girl, Grab their telekinetic friend as the rider and can take headbands at a distance. Assuming that someone from this friend group won first in the previous event, they would point Hatsume towards this team, since Midoriya's strategy has no room for her.

That gives us enough room for one more team. With Fire Girl in 1-B, there's less chance of them following Monoma's plan and honestly those teams were so suboptimal anyway.

Alas, of the three remaining Aldera Kids I find to be noteworthy, two have Quirks that are redundant with the established cast (that being the guy who can buff himself up and the guy who can cover himself in rocks), so I might send them to a different Hero School entirely for peace of mind. That leaves only the Water Girl unassigned

Regardless, the final team is probably still Bakugou's.

Lemme quickly randomize a tournament bracket

Tournament Preliminaries:

The Tournament Round gets things off to an interesting start. Bakugou faces Hair Girl, and assuming she can produce more hair as a restraint like similar anime characters, it'd be a close fight, but Bakugou's Quirk counters her decently well.

Second round is Midoriya against Fire Girl, who happens to be one of the few people who can counter him by simply being fire. Though I feel Midoriya would likely win because of his analytical mind.

Yaoyorozu faces off against Todoroki next and wins, but only thanks to her training against Fire Girl and Water Girl with Midoriya--and Todoroki dropped his guard after the big ice attack.

Hatsume forfeits after her presentation, so Sero moves on

Smoke Boy beats Kaminari when Kaminari TKOs himself.

Iida beats Telekinesis Girl.

Wind Girl beats Kirishima--he's too straightforward to counter her effectively at this point.

Ashido vs Uraraka would be much closer if Ashido knew what Uraraka could do. Yeet.

Tournament Quarterfinals:

Midoriya beats Bakugou; Bakugou puts up a good fight because he knows Midoriya, but, well, Light Powers.

Yaoyorozu beats Sero.

Smoke Boy is hard to hit, but he's still working on his offense while Iida has more training in that department, so Iida wins.

Wind Girl is a hard counter to Uraraka. At least they're friends

Tournament Semifinals:

Yaoyorozu can't beat Midoriya (she takes too long to think at this point) but her clever use of a mirror at the start nearly clinches the match for her.

Iida is used to running into the wind, but Wind Girl can fly, so... sorry Iida.

Finals:

Midoriya vs Wind Girl. Midoriya should win this one pretty handily, but her flying makes it tricky for him.

#asks #luminary au

[that-ari-blogger]

Genuinely Impressive (Light Spinner)

The term "humanise" refers to a kind of anthropomorphising. To humanise is to give a thing human qualities like speech or pseudo-complex thought. For example, the transformers are humanised vehicles.

In a weird way, this is how humanisation in literature works. It is the practice of taking a fictional character, thing that is very much not a real human being, and giving them the complexity befitting a human.

Unfortunately, there is a pitfall to this practice. When writers try to humanise their characters, there is a tendency for these writers to accidentally redeem their characters in the process.

Disney's Maleficent and Cruella had a problem with this. While the later got retconned from megalomaniacal to empathetic, diminishing her villainy in the process, the former got turned into a full blown hero, a decision that I... actually liked.

She Ra and The Princesses of Power, however, truly excels at humanisation, and nowhere is this more apparent than in Light Spinner.

Let me explain.

SPOILERS AHEAD (She Ra and the Princesses Of Power)

I want to prefix all of this with the fact that humanisation to any degree is a really difficult writing skill. The idea is to engineer understanding, instead of empathy, and that is a deceptively hard balance to strike.

Making a character empathetic is easy, but it's a different skill entirely to know how much of that to do, and when.

In short, artists deserve credit for the tiny acts of brilliance just as much as for their feats of awe inspiring grandeur.

One thing that I noticed about this episode is that, to me at least, Light Spinner and Shadow Weaver are different people. Obviously they are the same individual, and there is some clear overlap between the two, but they feel like two different characters. As in, there are certain things that Light Spinner says that Shadow Weaver would never say, and vice versa.

This boils down to the idea of a character's centre. I have mentioned this before, but every character has a single element that is immutable about themselves, the thing that makes them who they are. If you would be to slowly change everything about this character, but leave this one element, they would still be the original person.

I think the difference between Light Spinner and Shadow Weaver is this centre. Shadow Weaver is cruel, and selfish, but Light Spinner strikes me as more ambitious and calculating. Obviously, there are shades of all of these in both characters, but these are the elements that are the most important to each person.

There is actually a moment in the episode where the characters switch, where Light Spinner is killed and Shadow Weaver remains, and that is in the ritual room. But to understand that, you need to understand the events leading up to it.

So, who is Light Spinner, and what elements of that are carried over into Shadow Weaver? Well, Light Spinner is ambitious, reckless, righteous, and... kind? I don't think kind is the right word, but maternal feels like a bridge too far.

Motivations are complex. Often, actions are performed for a multitude of reasons. My main reason for writing this blog, for example, is because I love She-Ra and stories like it. But I am also doing this because I need an outlet for creativity, and because I want to develop my own understanding of the writing craft. Complexity.

Light Spinner's dynamic with Micah is one of teacher and student, but there is obviously some affection there. Light Hope is amused by his antics, and pushes him to do better because she knows he can. She fuels his passion and it is clear he has a trust for her and feels safe in her presence.

However, there is also some of that ambition there. Light Spinner is written in this episode as a limit pusher who wants to do more and gain more power. It's heavily implied in this episode that she is using Micah for her own ends.

"You have incredible power. And I'm the one who will mould that power."

So, we can add megalomania to Light Spinner's list of attributes as well.

On a side note, the oracle spell things have some of the best camera placement and shot composition in the entire series. So whomever is in charge of that in universe is the most skilled cinematographer on the planet.

I want to point out Light Spinner's motivation here. She wants to protect Etheria from the Horde. This is partly why I think she and Shadow Weaver are so different, because Light Spinner would never switch sides like she does, because she wants to save the world.

"Norwyn and those fools don't care about magic, they just want to hold the rest of us back."

Forgive me, but that wasn't the point of the spell. That wasn't a discussion about magic, it was a discussion about people's lives. Light Spinner has taken the complete opposite memo as everybody else.

This is where the megalomania fits in. Because Light Spinner wants to be in command, she wants to be a hero, and she wants control, as well as saving Etheria. The shift in character comes when that ambition supersedes her more benevolent motivations.

Can we please take a moment to acknowledge how incredible this shot is. Light Hope is framed against the oracle spell, backlit and viewed from below like she's a ruler speaking from on high. The circle around her head mirrors the halo around the heads of saints found in stained glass windows. Light Hope views herself as a messiah figure.

But look at what that halo is showing. Light Hope is divinely surrounded by death and destruction, and the loss of the black garnet. Even now, Light Hope's greatest weapon is her radius of fear.

I also think props need to be given to this shot, with all of its complete lack of subtlety. Light Hope seeks power, and she seeks the spell as an means of achieving that, so the spell covers her eyes, blinding her to reality.

"We need this power. It's the only way to protect our people."

Here's a question: Is this the only way? Light Spinner certainly tells us that, but we haven't seen any other ideas. The guild was meeting to decide what to do, and Light Spinner interrupted it, then stormed out. So maybe they decided on something better and safer.

She-Ra has another "it's the only way" decision, later on in the series, that being the planet destroyer that the first ones set up. Shadow Weaver jumps on that idea as well, but its notable that in both cases, there actually is another way to defeat the horde, and it didn't compromise the morals or physical wellbeing of its participants.

The golden rule in storytelling is "Show, don't tell", and this is a case for why I disagree with it. Showing an audience something makes them believe it, telling them something makes them skeptical. If you keep telling an audience something, but never actually show it, you can end up with a distrust for the narrator, and that is used very intentionally here.

Light Spinner tells the audience over and over again how good this will be, but we never see that good. We actually see the opposite.

Consider this: The Horde, over the next however many years, makes very little ground, and that is mostly due to Shadow Weaver's assistance. So maybe if she did the princesses, or if she hadn't absolutely shredded the mages of Mystacor, things could have gone better.

Which leads into the final domino that is set up for Light Spinner to change. Trust.

The mages of Mystacor do not trust Light Spinner's judgement, which leads to her believing her actions are futile for getting the admiration and respect that she "deserves".

Enter the Spell of Obtainment. And as a general rule, if you are in a fantasy story and you start conjuring something with too many arms and eyes, you are probably doing something wrong.

Also, this guy is dead, ponked into non-existence. A man dies, on camera, in a children's cartoon.

It is important to understand that this is a memory, and so the narrator is unreliable. From that perspective, Light Spinner was betrayed by Micah, and by the guild masters, and it got her killed.

But let's also look at what the spell would have done. Light Spinner insists that it would win the war, but doesn't reveal its actual capabilities. I think, judging from what the failure did, it would have focused power in on a single individual or two.

I think Light Spinner's idea of the ultimate spell was one that bolstered her abilities and made her into a super soldier.

So, Light Spinner died because of her megalomania and ambition. She wanted to be the one to save the world, and it cost her. People backed away because she pushed them too far, and she can't see that.

The person that emerges from the cosmic horror bubble is Shadow Weaver, and the first thing she does is kill someone, then bail and switch sides. The power is now more important to her than what she wanted to use it for.

The final scene of the flashback is the adoption of Adora, and it does a few things. First up, Adora gets thrown into Shadow Weaver's care against the latter's will, and one of Shadow Weaver's first lines in the entire series is this:

"I saw talent in you the moment I found you as an orphan child and took you in."

So... that was a lie, wasn't it?

But the scene also shows a hint of Light Spinner peeking through, because I think there is something maternal there, and it is entirely separate from kindness.

One of the theses of She-Ra is that there is a bit of good, however small, in everyone. And the point of this episode is that Shadow Weaver once had it, and may still have it, but has made the choice to do evil. Villainy is very much a decision in this world, you don't get born into one side, you make your own choice.

That's something that keeps coming up, especially with Catra.

Speaking of whom, there is a reason I have separated Light Spinner from Shadow Weaver.

"You remind me of myself. You always have. Nothing was ever easy for me either. I wasn't born to power like Adora and the others. I had to earn my power, fight for it. Why should it be any different for you?"

There is some narrative parallelism going on in this episode, but it is specifically not between Catra and Shadow Weaver, but Catra and Light Spinner.

Both characters are seeking respect, and find that taken out from under them, and both push their closest friends away. The stories are extremely similar, but there are two things to dispute about this idea.

First up, Shadow Weaver is doing some heavy projecting here. Once again, this is her memory, so the narration should be taken with a grain of sand. She was also trying to do something forbidden, while Catra is trying to follow orders to the best of her ability.

Second, Light Hope wasn't abused by the mages of Mystacor. Well, I guess she could have been, but it isn't even implied that this is the case, so do with that what you will.

I think Catra puts it best:

"I was a child when you took me in. What could I have possibly done to deserve the way you treated me?"

She-Ra as a whole does not shy away from discussion of the cycle of violence, and it is worth noting that Shadow Weaver perceives injustice directed at herself, and believes it is perfectly reasonable to take that out on a child. Yes, Hordak did probably use that anti-oxygen device on Shadow Weaver at some point, but she then made the decision to use that anger to bully a child.

Shadow Weaver's treatment of Catra in this episode is pure manipulation. There are hints of that maternal element, but they are being used to lull Catra into a false sense of security. She is falsely giving Catra affection to service her own needs. Notably, through the use of her touch, Shadow Weaver exhibits control over Catra's emotions.

AJ Michalka needs so much more credit than she has for her voice acting than she has received, especially in this episode. Catra's increasingly frantic pleas are so incredibly well realised, and the last scene of the empty jail cell is carried entirely by her acting.

This episode adds a ton of ambiguity to Shadow Weaver, as well as providing depth to her character. But it makes one thing abundantly clear:

As justified as you think your methods are, you are still responsible for the actions of cruelty that you chose to take.

Catra is close enough to Light Hope for the end result to be reasonably likely. Shadow Weaver is what Catra will become, if she does not stray from the path she currently walks.

That's why Catra's redemption arc is so compelling to me, because we know what is at stake. We know where that path leads.

Old. Bitter. Weak.

Final Thoughts

This episode is a technical masterpiece. The first rule of literary analysis is "don't compare a story to food or architecture", but I'm going to do that anyway.

The rest of She-Ra has a habit of prioritising the big spectacles and feats of brilliance. Each episode is a fully made cathedral with stained glass windows and a mosaic ceiling. This episode isn't that it's an incredibly well-designed fountain in a park, dedicated to an old friend. It is emotional and heart-felt, and mechanically superb.

Next week, I will be analysing Reunion, so stick around if that interests you.

Previous - Next

#rants #literary analysis #literature analysis #character analysis #what's so special about...? #she ra catra #she ra shadow weaver #spop #she ra #she ra spop #she ra and the princesses of power #she ra princess of power #shadow weaver #catra #mermista can do no wrong

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

riddle, rollo, and… ace?

This kind of fits in with my other posts speculating on Masquerade part II. The previous posts were about Rollo meeting Ortho and Lilia, respectively.

***Spoilers below the cut!!***

I’ve often seen parallels being drawn between Rollo and Riddle’s backstories, which makes sense 🤔 They are both stubborn in their worldviews and try to force their idea of what is “proper and just” upon others. When their views are challenged, they spiral into rages and insist that they are correct, and that everyone else is “wrong” or “the villain”. (And, of course, on a superficial note, they lean towards fire-based magic.)

But with that in mind, now consider… Wouldn’t it be a throwback to see how Rollo interacts with Ace? All the way back in episode 1 of the main story, Ace called out Riddle for acting like a tyrant. He has continued being the voice of reason for other characters acting unreasonable across various events and vignettes, such as Ghost Marriage (to Eliza) and Endless Halloween Night (to Malleus, in Ace’s Halloween vignettes). I can 100% see Ace also putting Rollo on blast for his actions (in a Fairy Gala: If-like scenario, so same plot just played by different characters) 😂

Ace comes from a particular background which can add to the tension and drama. He is also a younger brother, has a view of magic that is very positive (he wants to be like his mage older brother), and uses his magic carelessly (ie remember when he set the Queen of Hearts on fire) or for things Rollo would deem frivolous and unnecessary (like pulling pranks on others, as he did with Deuce’s birthday present). These are all traits that make Ace very similar to Rollo’s own little brother—a brother that, may I remind you, has already passed.

There also remains the unaddressed and unresolved conflict of episode 5 in which Ace expresses disbelief that Deuce unlocked his unique magic before he did (the duo spent episode 6 mostly knocked out). Ace must be harboring some frustrations that he was not able to keep up with his rival and friend in spite of being so sure that he would be the one to surpass Deuce. These are circumstances which make Ace uniquely like Rollo—feeling upset that he does not have his magic sooner, and some unspoken disappointment and guilt wrapped up in that.

So imagine Ace being one of the people to confront Rollo 🤡 and when he’s chewing him out, all Rollo sees is an older version of his dead brother talking back and disapproving of his actions. As the SSR trio of the current Masquerade event point out, would Rollo’s brother really have been happy knowing that he’s going to such extremes, and using his brother’s death and the claim that he is “saving” others to justify it? And now here comes Ace, telling Rollo all of that right to his face while also emulating a similar energy as his brother once did. It’s like Rollo’s brother has come back from beyond to grave specifically to tell Rollo he’s disappointed in him, to tell him what he’s doing is wrong-and that would still set Rollo off, sending him into a fresh fit of rage for similar reasons as Riddle. (Yes, we are coming full circle and bringing it back to Rollo and Riddle parallels.)

Because if what they’ve been doing all along was actually wrong instead of right like they’ve been viewing it... What did Riddle do all that studying in isolation for? Why did he have to conform to these rules all his life, only to now discover that he was wrong? Why was Rollo saddled with this burden of magic, and a unique magic which will always remind him of his younger brother’s ashen end? Why did he have to stew with all of these complicated emotions while everyone else openly indulged in the sin of magic?

“Then what was the point of it all…?” What was the point of all of their suffering?! Was it all meaningless? Were their efforts worth nothing? Are their feelings and personal experiences up until this point just... pointless? Neither Riddle nor Rollo would automatically take responsibility for their own actions, nor accept fault for their harsh worldviews, so they both lashed out in anger instead.

And not only that, but there’s also a bit of Rollo in Ace--that upset associated with not being inadequate or not being able to measure up to expectations, something that Rollo never acknowledged about himself. We get brief glimpses of Rollo doubting himself, implying that his magic is a burden or a curse, or claiming that he was not able to save his brother. Yet Rollo only continued to blame others for this and tried to overcompensate/overcorrect for what was ultimately a dissatisfaction he had with himself, rather than with the world. Ace could help really drive that home as he’s escorting Rollo down the bell tower (as he’s not very tactful with his words), with just a dash of understanding his situation--because Ace is likely confused in his own way, still trying to discover what makes himself “unique”, just as Rollo is left confused about where to go from here on out.

sahdbaodbsada I just think there’s something potentially interesting to be explored between Ace and Rollo! I also just love it when Ace does a good call out 😂

#Rollo Flamme #Ace Trappola #twst #Rollo Flamm #Riddle Rosehearts #twisted wonderland #Cater is a younger sibling too but #the relationship with his sisters is not a big focus #and then you have responsible big bros like Trey and Jack shaking their heads at Rollo #Leona had strong magic at a young age like Rollo’s lil bro #but also grew up cynical because he knew his magical strength was a source of ridicule #so he started off like Rollo’s lil bro but in essence grew up to be closer to Rollo #Kalim is over here crying for Rollo’s brother 😭 #he has so many younger siblings himself #he can’t imagine the pain of losing one #okay but Oasis Maker vs Dark Fire who would win??? #notes from the writing raven #disney twisted wonderland #spoilers #can you tell I just really want the main story to address Ace's lack of UM #and how he feels about Deuce getting his own #right before him #even though Ace has been bullying Deuce all along about it

[nilsavatar]

PHOENIX | 1. TXUMRE' MAKTO

Status: CHAPTER 1 (1/?)

Prologue, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4

Parings: Neteyam x Fem!UnknownOriginsNa’vi!Reader

Genre/Warnings: ANGST, sorrow, mentions of nearly death, romance, adventure, soulmate love, destined lovers, possible suggestive content NSFW/MDNI later on, no use of Y/N, clans never seen in films yet. All characters are AGED-UP.

Summary: During the battle with the SeaDragon, gunfire struck Neteyam’s heart. A mortal wound that heals itself under the astonished eyes of his brother, as if the Great Mother still did not want him with her. She has other plans for Toruk Makto's eldest son.  Nevertheless, his body is weak, and he falls into a slumber from which he can no longer wake up. His vital signs are stable, yet Neteyam is slowly slipping away. He is waiting. Waiting for the girl who has been appearing in his dreams since he went into a coma.

Chapter Summary: Despite the clan's lack of disdain, Mi'niri feels like an outcast due to her unique appearance and enigmatic origins. She cannot avoid noticing how different she is from others, both physically and in terms of her character, every time she looks at herself. The Tawkami's way seems too restrictive.

An unexpected event will be the incipit of a total but necessary upheaval. Deep down, she always knew that she wasn’t meant to fit in. Her fate lies in the hands of the Great Mother's plans.

However, she won't untangle the thread of a skein alone.

Word Count: 3.8k🙃

Hope you'll like it and if you want to be tagged in the next posts, just write it in the comments. I’ll gladly add y'all💕

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1. TXUMRE' MAKTO

“No Kekunan matches her physical traits. She doesn’t belong to us.”

The floating mountains were her haven, guardians of all her undisclosed secrets and recollections. She breathed them to the wind, as countless others had, mindful of its secrecy, while it brushed her face like a tender touch, carrying away a few tears. She cast her eyes towards her wrist, adorned with a frayed bracelet. For sure, it had seen better days, but it now only served as a pale reminder of the rejection she had faced while still in swaddling clothes.

“No Kekunan matches her physical traits. She doesn’t belong to us.”

She doesn’t belong to us. We have no recognition of her. She is not one of us.  She was nobody’s. No one would ever see her.

She would listen to the distant ikrans for days, filling her chest with each breath, as she meditated to the gentle sway of the suspended boulders.  The creaking of the sturdy roots that held the rock in place was a constant reminder to Mi'niri of the power of nature. She couldn't help but wonder what might happen if one of them snapped. 

Would the rock remain stationary in its everlasting sway? Or, could an updraft have sent it soaring high up into the sky?  Who knows where the winds would have taken it? 

Perhaps she would have finally witnessed the ocean’s fury and felt the saltiness tingling her skin. Or she would have seen the sun rise over the vastness of the desert, coloring the dunes with soft pinks and oranges.  They might have taken her to the farthest end of the world, where there’s solely the white of ice and the chill of frost. 

More likely, she would have died of asphyxiation or slipped off the stone to crash to the ground. Yet, why not let her mind to venture to far-off mystical lands that she had only heard of in bedtime stories or studied in the clan's manuscripts?

From time to time, she envied the Sky People. Despite their deplorable motives, their destructive nature, they devolved technology to explore beyond their dying planet and reach Pandora. Deeds that resembled legends, akin to those of the first Toruk Makto and the tales recounted from the time of the First Songs. Being the daughter of scholars, she had to acknowledge their intelligence and persistence. 

To say that she never imagined or wished to be the protagonist of such a feat would be insincere. More to distance herself from a place where she felt like she didn't fit in rather than a thrill of adventure. Her need for acceptance and a sense of belonging overshadowed her curiosity and desire to travel.

If she had actually gone missing, who knows how long it would have taken them to figure it out? Vanished into thin air just as she had appeared seventeen years prior. Maybe nobody else would have noticed her absence, or missed her (excluding her parents, clearly).

Suddenly, the breeze cooled, and the banshees' cries grew closer. The nocturnal fauna stirred, ready for the new eclipse. Alpha Centauri A faded away as Pandora twirled around the blue giant, and the moons of Polyphemus appeared in the evening sky. 

With a strange feeling in her chest and tiny fireflies lighting the way, it was time for her to go home.

The village was quiet as the sun sank below the horizon.

"Ma’ite (my daughter), you're coming back later every night," her mother playfully scolded, back turned. Mi’niri snorted a smile, rolling her eyes. She barely appeared on the threshold. How did she even detect her presence? She thought she had improved at camouflaging herself. A critical skill to make it through the forest.  The woman responded, in tune with her stream of consciousness, stating: "A mother's intuition is never wrong about her children. She senses them.” “Uh-huh,” she hummed, unconvinced. "She just knows, my little skeptic," she teased, stealing a glance at her. Her placid corundum eyes twinkled with a blatant hint of amusement, so unlike her own. Whenever she saw them, she would repeat this to herself, as if to reinforce that she wasn't a proper Tawkami.

She was always mindful that she wasn’t a part of the tribe, even if they never bring themselves to exclude her or acknowledge her as different. In the clan's eyes, she was Acala and Sílron’zem’s daughter, nothing less than that. They embraced her into the community and its activities, with love and patience. 

Every day was the same for the Tawkami, apart from their remarkable discoveries, which added variety to their dull routine.

But despite the countless attempts of his peers to make friends, it was Mi’niri herself who could not get beyond her diversity, be it physical or character. She was short of the peace of mind that seemed to unite all the members of the clan. It was a gift she lacked; just as she lacked the disposition to study and research typical of her people. She felt the urge to explore and to answer her own questions, not for knowledge or to help those around her. She was so absorbed in what made her stand out from others that she didn't discern its irrelevance in their eyes.

She had no foe but herself.

Her mother smirked. "Are you sneaking away to meet a boy?" Mi'niri grumbled in reply.

Here we go again, she told herself.

At her disgusted expression, the woman burst out laughing. A clear laugh that tinkled like bells. “You’re a chip off the old block,” she said, hiding her mouth. “Your dad was always in his own world, too. Totally unaware of the gazes that slid over him as if invisible.”

She wanted to argue that no one was looking at her that way, but she held her tongue. She opted not to trouble the woman who had devotedly raised her. To the utmost extent, she wished to safeguard her from the effects of having Mi'niri as her adopted daughter. So she repeated, rolling her eyes, a hint of sourness punctuating the sentence: ‘Until he got himself screwed by crossing you’. She had heard that story a million times. About how her father was oblivious to the hearts he broke due to his focus on his job.

All Tawkami held Sílron’zem in high esteem because of his extraordinary intellect, which made him a renowned chemist. Neighboring clans often requested his intervention as well. He was a brilliant mind but was a complete mess when it came to emotions. His introversion or shyness wasn’t the problem, he just didn't grasp it. He didn’t seem to catch the women's body language as they approached him; their searching eyes, their hands lingering on his arm, the flirtatious tone in their voices.

As soon as he spotted Acala, everything changed completely.

She was possibly the sole individual who lacked interest in the young man. This couldn't be further from the truth.

Acala, a keen observer, had noted his unresponsiveness to a straightforward approach and armed herself with holy patience and wait. She waited for him to take notice of her without forcing her presence. Gradually, he grew accustomed to her and accepted her being there by his side.

At first, the conversations were sparse and mostly professional because of his prominent role, their age gap (not huge but substantial), and his own reserve and uneasiness.

Acala's unyielding persistence finally paid off on an afternoon in the early dry season.

Sílron’zem was examining a flower's poison to find out if they could use it medicinally and on arrows in battle. It was an extremely delicate job, but a sound that was familiar, yet, at the moment, incredibly new, suddenly distracted him. A warm, almost childlike trill. Mi'niri’s mother's most memorable feature: her stirring, crystal-clear laughter. The man shifted his clinical gaze from the tube, which he held up in the sunlight, to her. Covering her mouth with her fingers, she chuckled shrewdly, giving her a mischievous air that he grew to love over time. What was rarely, however, was for another male Na’vi to make her laugh. One he had never seen before, moreover. Whose name, birth, and role within the clan were a mystery to him.

His stern eyes narrowed as he eyed their interaction. He quickly recognized that the conversation wasn't trivial - at least, not as far as the boy was concerned. Watching Acala's response made him feel a surge of primal energy, and he fought to keep his sharp canines from breaking the skin of his lower lip. The sourness of blood wetted his tongue. Rage surged through him as he saw the two of them out of the corner of his eye.

Acala's laughter, which had once been music to his ears, now felt like a constant assault on his senses, each new outburst more annoying than the last.

Why was she humoring him? What was so cool about that random dude? He wasn't built like a warrior and didn't seem too bright from what he picked up.

Maybe he was a funny guy. Acala repeatedly reprimanded him for being overly serious, extremely committed to his work, and not likely to loosen up. Unbeknownst to her, Sílron'zem hid a wild side. Simply, he wasn’t adept at wooing women.

To be frank, he wasn’t particularly adept at socializing.

A fresh outbreak of mirthful sounds. He couldn’t stand it anymore.

They both peered at him, with a perplexed expression on her face and a mocking one on his. The girl's head inclined a bit to prop up his eyes, which were so wintry that they stung. Only then it dawned on him his less-than-friendly approach.

Again, the need to smash the boy’s face came rushing back, even stronger and angrier than before. That primal call to violence, to defiance, to claim the female as one’s own seized him.

Claim the female as one’s own?

His eyes locked with Acala's, and he was struck with a sense of awe and fear. A shiver ran down his spine, and he had to swallow hard to moisten his dry mouth.

He realized with a shock that he had missed all the signs. As a man of science, he couldn't believe how easily the girl had shaken something within him without even trying. In that instant, he was hit with the realization that left him wondering why it hadn't clicked sooner. Did his poverty of self-perception make him rely on jealousy as a tool to decipher his own feelings?

Jealousy. 

What an ugly word. What an ugly feeling. Even more horrible now that he was experiencing it.

He mumbled something unintelligible and grabbed Acala by the forearm, dragging her cautiously behind him. Nevertheless, she distinctly heard the insult Sílron’zem directed at the young man. Also, her sharp eyes didn’t fail to notice the frown he gave him as they walked away.

“Pause over. We must examine these new samples before they deteriorate.” ”What's gotten into you?” she asked pointedly. He tensed up, “When?” “Before. With Neetxo.” “Who?” he looked puzzled and glowered. “Don’t play dumb. You know very well who I’m talking about. We were having a chat a moment ago.”

Ah, him. He had completely erased the man from his mind already.

“You were rude,” the girl pressed. “To Amanti’s eldest son, of all people,” she huffed. “Do you even get the risk you took? The Tipani are extremely proud.” She almost added "and violent," but the man's face, which displayed a mix of disgust and amusement, silenced her.

That puny kid was going to be in charge of the Torukä Na’rìng region next? With a sneer, he bent down to pick up the wooden box with the test tubes, commenting venomously that he didn't recognize him without the armor. Acala yanked him by the arm, nearly sloshing the poison onto the ground. Sílron’zem's disappointment was so great that he couldn't help but hiss irritably. The silence between them was heavy with unspoken rebuke.

“He is Palulukan Makto.” "His status is what charmed you," he said with a bitter, wry smile, “I see”. “What?” He offered no explanation, just a casual shrug. "Wishing you the best of luck with your courtship. May it bring you joy and success. Keep in mind that the structure of the Tipani is distinct from anything we’re used to. He may be chosen to succeed Sänume as Clan Leader, but joining him won't make you Tsahìk.”

The grip on Sílron'zem's arm slipped away, leaving behind a strange, lingering burning sensation that he couldn’t shake. Her fists were clenched tightly at her sides as she avoided his gaze, her ears flat and her shoulders stiff. Her tail moved in short, quick jerks, betraying her growing frustration.

"Is that the conclusion you've come to?" she asked, her voice almost inaudible. His heart shattered when she returned to look. Tears filled her eyes, making her vision blurry and her ciliary rims puffy. “You think I was flirting to snag a good catch? Do you think I’m a climber? That I'm all about status and recognition? I'm okay with whoever, as long as I get a suitable position.”

“I-I-.“

“You skxawng!” She shouted, and all eyes turned toward her, taken aback by her unexpected behavior. Acala didn't care if anyone was watching or listening at that point. She didn't feel the stares of disbelief on them. She focused on Sílron’zem's expression, which was just as bewildered and uneasy with the attention. Perfectly orange irises bounced between the girl and the Na’vi in his peripheral vision, his brain scrambling desperately to seek a way out of that uncomfortable situation. 

“All I did was hope you'd finally see me. I didn’t know you had such a low opinion of me. I told myself you'd look at me, eventually. Really look at me. I had this idea that you could read my feelings by looking into my eyes, but I was totally off. I was so caught up in my feelings that I actually thought you were keeping me around for a reason. I bet I've been a nuisance all this time.”

The silence was absolute, as if the entire world was holding its breath. Her disenchanted, wounded look left him soul-sick, punching him in the gut like a knife.

“I thought you were different.” Her lower lip quivered. “Now I see you for what you are. Better late than never.” Leaving him behind, the girl walked resolutely in the forest’s direction, likely headed towards her banshee. The sound of twigs snapping underfoot echoed in his ears.

It was now or never. If he didn't catch up with her, regret would haunt him for years to come. 

To hell with logic.  To hell with becoming the clan’s gossip. Sometimes you just gotta go with your gut. He chased after her, grabbed her shoulder, spun her around, and kissed her hard, leaving her breathless. Acala's initial reaction was one of shock and dismay, but she quickly surrendered to the overwhelming emotions. Reciprocating the kiss with equal passion, a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

She won. Sílron’zem was all hers.

“I'm a total moron.” She let out a little giggle. “You sure are.”

"By the way, the ikran smell was a good clue," the mom remarked. She had a knowing smirk on her face. "Are they nesting already?” “A few pairs have. Most are still in the courtship phase.” “May the Great Mother bless us with abundant broods,” she prayed confidently. An ikran's birth was a highly anticipated event for the forest peoples, as they believed it to bring luck and prosperity. The Na’vi saw every new ikran as a representation of a new child being born into the world, which they welcomed with open arms as brothers in spirit. "Our brothers accept you willingly, ma’ite. The fauna is fond of you, but it’s a delicate period. Be wary.” “Don’t worry, sa’nu (mom), I’ll be careful.”

As Acala was about to reprove her daughter, intense and prolonged mooing overpowered her voice, causing disorienting gloom.

In the fading light of the day, the same deafening roar from two hundred and four lunar cycles ago echoed dangerously close to the farthest reaches of the village. A wailing sound jerked Mi’niri’s head northwards in the sound's direction. Thrill coursed through her veins, a feeling of excitement rather than fear, as if a distant call had finally reached her ears. 

A call of home.

Despite her parents' protests, Mi'niri hurried to the gathering of the chosen guard. Bows and spears were in position, ready to strike down the creature threatening Greenhome at the mere mention of the Olo’eyktan. She stood between them and the animal. Her face was a picture of fearlessness. “Mawey!” “Niri, come back here!” Her father's voice croaked out, followed by distress from the other inhabitants. The girl, however, was too busy studying the cause of the chaos.

The intensity of its gaze was matched only by the jarring of its scrutiny, revealing the creature's innate ferocity. Its fierce eyes bore into hers, and she couldn't shake the feeling of familiarity.

Vulnerability.

That drew Mi’niri to the rest of the animal’s body. Its chest rose and fell unnaturally as it struggled to breathe. It inhaled deeply, turning into labored gasps between its bloody jaws; stained of its own. Coughs came in painful spasms as blood gushed from within.

With the Olo'eyktan nod of approval, the young girl bravely approached the wounded predator, deaf to her parents' desperate pleas. In a final show of defense, the animal's instinct took over, and it let out a warning growl that was both defiant and desperate. She knelt down, hands raised, trying to seem harmless, smaller, and murmuring soothing words at the captivating yet frightening creature.

A txumre’. The ultimate forest nightmare that you’d be lucky to escape from and live to tell the tale. The creature was said to be second in power only to the thanator.

She knew right away that the txumre' in front of her was anything but ordinary. Its skin, unlike its fellows, was an ivory color that gradually faded to a shrieking hue where it should have been a bluish-grey. The black of his claws created a stark contrast with the orange and purple streaks that decorated his flank and continued down to the tip of his tail. Even the hard plates that shielded the fangs were penetrated by the brilliant nuances; now opened to reveal a terrifying bright orange menace and two large venomous spears extending from either side of the snout.

Albinism didn’t allow him to blend into the dense thicket of Pandora’s rainforest, easy prey for his own kind in territorial fights.

The feline-like creature’s eyes blinked slowly, but his unwavering gaze remained fixed on Mi’niri. A single pair of small red eyes resembled those of a snake. Two sways of its head later, it closed the plates and nodded its head backward. The girl mirrored the movement, unsure of what it meant, but the slinth appeared to relax. Its weight became too much for its trembling paws, and he collapsed to the ground on his side.  She had to hold back a sigh of pain as she observed the wide gash piercing its pelvis. Gills opened his flesh, causing severe bleeding and staining his hind legs purple. Without the help of a skilled healer, it’d surely die. Knowing the end was near, it resisted the instinct to hide and went to the Tawkami Clan to plead for their aid, albeit with dignity and grace. She could read in its eyes a desire to stay on this side of Eywa’s veil.

Its time had yet to come. 

"It's injured," she announced, ending the oppressive silence. “Kill it,” coldly ordered a warrior behind her. “Put it out of its misery.” “We can still save it,” she protested. A lump clogged her throat. “To do what with it, then? Keep it as a pet?” he taunted in a huff, a gradually growing anger darkening his voice. “It’s a predator! It kills Na’vi!” “It’s also a son of Eywa like us.” “Out of respect, you gotta put it down,” he drew his knife from the sash he wore across his chest, “But if you are too weak to do it yourself, I’ll do it.”

The slinth leaped forward, despite its nimble paws, demonstrating its courage and determination to fight and live. To protect. By no means had he come to their village by chance. There were no coincidences on Pandora. Behind every irregularity lay a greater truth. A picture.

The Tsahìk's voice was faint but determined, as she stated the message was from Nawna Sa'nok, the Great Mother. “If txumre’ has come to us in this form, it is because it is Eywa's will. As it was Her will that brought us to the foreign girl several cycles ago.”

A light of appreciation flashed in the exhausted gaze of the animal, now proudly seated beside Mi’niri. It rested its head on her lap and purred softly. She gently petted the muscles of his neck and the nerves beneath, up to the appendix that enveloped the tentacular nerves. Another grunt, this time more energetic and vague in assent, vibrated. Mi’niri brought her own closer and joined the two ends. As she faced the predator, she felt her pupils widen and her breathing slow down to match its rhythmic movements. Memories and suffering flooded her mind as if they were her own, and she knew they belonged to Dewram. He found solace in her tears, knowing she was there for him to keep him safe. 

They were one now. Brothers.

Suddenly and unexpectedly, her Iknimaya occurred against any prior expectations or desires. For a brief moment, the weight of the new reality completely overcame her. She wasn't ready to undergo changes that would make her completely different from her Tawkami peers forever. The warmth of Dewram's breath and his gentle nuzzling against her belly filled her with a soothing sense of serenity, washing away the restlessness that had troubled her.

Her dream of soaring through the skies on the back of an ikran was shattered. The girl knew her People well enough to expect silent acquiescence towards her actions, with a few members harboring a respectful suspicion. A sense of calm washed over her as she figured out Eywa had intended for her to take a different route since the beginning. She had taught her to be unafraid, to face fear, loneliness, and rejection head-on.

In her heart, Mi'niri sensed an imminent danger was lurking. The thought of what awaited her filled her with dread, knowing that it would wrench her away from everything she held dear. But the Great Mother had flanked her with the terror of the forest.

She was no longer alone.

Notes: All the info about the clans I mention and the characters' names of said clans are from games side stories and other official sources. Since they haven't appeared in the movies yet, I take them as canon until James Cameron will state otherwise.

Amanti: Clan Leader of the Owame village, located in Leo Forest.

Torukä Na’rìng: region of the Tipani Clan, known among humans as Leonopteryx Forest, or more simply Leo Forest. Because of the importance of this area to zoologists, Owame Village was one of the first contacts between RDA and Na’vi. Current relations are one of unpleasant tolerance, but at one time there was open conflict between the two sides.

The Tipani Clan is divided into several individual villages in the jungle, each of which has a leader who governs it. They are known for the use of armor, which is worn regularly and differs according to the purpose of use: hunting, training and fighting, singing and dancing.

Neetxo: is an OC of mine.

@cinetrix

#neteyam x reader #neteyam #avatar the way of water #no use of y/n #reader insert #aged up characters #angst #ash people #metkayina #metkayina clan #neteyam x oc #sully family #avatar #avatar x reader #avatar twow #avatar fanfiction #avatar fic #sully x reader #neteyam fanfiction #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #neteyam x na'vi!reader #neteyam x you #loak sully #lo'ak fluff #kiri avatar #kiri x you #jake sully #neytiri #atwow #soulmates

[dango-with-a-taste-of-bitter]

Ramattra x Reader - suggestion/ idea

«The remain of shattered» (as I call it)

_The day you were presented to him he thought it was ironic, humiliating to "your kind" even: a human given to him for personal serves. Now, isn't it wonderful. The one of who were once "in charge" now stood below (how it was meant to be long time ago, he gloated).

_It was quet delightfull at the begining.

The way you never dared to complain or go against the said. No matter the mockery nor threat, you always stood in silence, tongue bitten, eyes shamefully (as he foolishly thought back then) fixed on the floor - never to look up if you're not ordered to.

_But time have passed. He started to realize how much power he has over you. So much.. too much.

_At first it was a simple comparing, an insignificant note to himself:

The way those other humans spoke, the way their faces twisted in fear or flew with happiness, how characters were seen in their simple chatting, how gestures and the moves expressed so much.

Yet, you always stayed the same.

Dull eyes of yours that never shared the same amount of joy, or saddness, or anger - anything so many others did. The never changing features of your face.. there was truly nothing capable of making them wince even slightes - the mighty fear of death herself was powerless against it. Meaningless.

_And that - though, never accepting the fact - was what started to scare him the most.

No matter the damage that pulled your body dangerously neer the edge, or amouts of blood seeking the way out of your flesh, you forced yourself to stand straight on those trembling legs, ready to take orders while still capabel of, while still conscious.

They all called it "the rightfull discipline". Some scoffly, others with pure proud.

He called it madness.

For him that was no discipline if it made a person slaughter themself in attempt to obey. And he ..wished (?) he was exaggerating with this type of statement.

There never was a single doubt behind those voids of eyes when his hand squeeze your neck especially hard against the wall in one of his many tantrums. And not a single cry of pain after a few more words said wrong that caused you to bleed on the floor with the abdomen open by your own now bloody hands. Him standing there opposite watching the dark red puddles spread, still processing how fataly abstract his "order" was.

_Only then he understood how radical Talon was in relation to creating you.

_How wrong in many ways you are.

_How important his next actions will be.

I'm a big fan of reverse type of tropes and the swap vesion of "human teaches machine how to feel" lays PERFECTLY with this character.

I am going to add more to this little idea in other posts (hopefully..), but here is one important thing to know about the reader/ y/n: they are EMOTIONLESS here. They were taken by Talon and got experimented on almost the same way Amélie was once, but um lets just say they took it to the new level here. Cause, lets be real, Widowmaker is not really emotionless-emotionless if you know what I mean. Even if we don't take into account latest events, she was showing some sort of feelings from the start and it just DOES NOT work for me, okay?

Also, no, the shit that was done and still going on with reader/ y/n/ you(???, bare with me I'm sorta new at this) is not cool in any way. Those mf did a number on you and Ram has to deal with a sht ton of trauma (the reason behind his actions will also be told, but lets make it step by step, guys)

So, really hope some of you enjoyed it, will LOVE to hear your thoughts and suggestions.

#overwatch #overwatch 2 #ramattra #the game sucks but damn Id be a fool to not admire that dude #ramattra x reader #x reader #female reader #overwatch x reader #overwatch 2 x reader #ow2 #ow #overwatch talon

[c0d33]

Richard Lore

WARNING! This post contains spoilers for Outer Wilds: Echoes of the Eye!

If you have not yet completed this DLC (Or Outer Wilds for that fact), I would suggest not reading past the read more. What I talk about in here will spoil some of the largest parts of the DLC, and they're too good to not experience for yourself first.

Y'all gone? Alright, now let's get into this mess of a character.

Richard the Owlk

(Art by @luckylazulii!)

Part 1: Origins

Richard's origins are probably not a conventional way for OCs to be made. Richard was spawned entirely as a joke from several VRChat sessions I had with some friends. In them, we would usually start in the Outer Wilds avatar world, and one of the avatars was a customizable Owlk! Naturally, I tried to make the silliest looking one possible, so I gave them no antlers (But I prefer just calling them bald). While I used this avatar, I jokingly called them Richard. Not only did this name stick for the character itself, but it also somehow got attached to me. So if you're wondering why I had that random name listed as one of the ones you can call me, that's why.

Part 2: The Lore

This is where it somehow gets sillier. I never intended for Richard to be a serious character, so naturally I just started making up whatever lore I wanted for him. So, here's what the initial lore was:

He's bald (As mentioned earlier)

He's a certified Fortnite gamer

He sleeps in doorways (The one on the top end of the stairs in the Party House in the Shrouded Woodlands is the main one he sleeps in)

He eats children

As you can see, not the most serious OC. But again, I hardly intended for them to be serious. It wasn't until they had been around for a while and I started getting art of them that more lore started developing. So, here's the Serious Lore™:

Richard was spawned through a bug in the simulation's code. Despite the Owlk's best attempts to fix the bug, he was never patched out and remained in the simulation indefinitely.

He didn't act like other Owlks. He would often be looming in the distance, watching. Waiting.

He wasn't very... friendly, so to say. Various reports were made and many stories were told about the various things he had done, but there were never any other witnesses for any one story.

By the time the events of the main game are taking place, there are no other Owlks left in the simulation except for Richard (And the Prisoner, but due to their current situation, Richard couldn't feasibly get rid of them).

And so far, that's the lore. There are some other meta things I could think of that would explain how they would work in the context of the game, but that doesn't necessarily apply to their lore.

Part 3: Personality

I've given a lot of thought about Richard's personality and how it would work with both sides of his lore, and I think I've worked something out.

Richard experiences what I would best describe as very extreme mood swings, due to how messy the bug that allowed him to exist was.

One is the very silly, very goofy Fornite-playing doorway-sleeping Owlk that most people (Aside from the other Owlks) know and love.

The other side is the side that the Owlks experienced, with the general creepiness and violent nature.

My best comparison would be to some kind of mental illness, but I'm very cautious and nervous about saying that since A.) I don't know nearly enough about mental illnesses to name any one that it could be similar to, B.) I don't want to offend anyone who may have the mental illness that I specifically name, and C.) I don't want this to vilify mental illness in any way, shape, or form.

I'm very aware of how bad mental illness representation in media can be, and the last thing I want would be to add to that pile of misrepresentation. I would greatly appreciate any feedback or advice about this, since I'm very worried about portraying something the wrong way.

Part 4: Conclusion

Well, that's the Richard lore! Thank you very much for reading!

Richard is still very much a character that's under development, as I'm still attempting to work out exactly how they act and behave. Any thoughts or comments are appreciated, and feel free to send me asks about them, be it questions or feedback!

(Entirely unrelated to Richard, but after writing this I'm realizing just how starved for lore my other two OCs are. Maybe I should get some for them too.)

#outer wilds #outer wild spoilers #echoes of the eye #echoes of the eye spoilers #oc #original character

[ijuststareatstuffhereok89]

Sorry, but I like sylvie and think she's really perfect for Loki. YOU try making up a better match for him!

I write, so fucking watch me.

Let's break this down into what MCU Loki/Larry!Loki (because like it or not, he's canonically Loki Prime now) needs/would respond to most in a partner, where Sylvie falls short, and where any asshole with a pen or keyboard could've done better.

1- Loki needs to recover from his hideous past family trauma. Every single MCU film he is in, to some extent, adds to his already miles-long list of reasons why he should trust no one in this existence, least of all the people closest to him. In order to fall in love, he has a LOT of barriers to break down, and the TVA has only been seen to break those down via more psychological torture. An ideal partner for Loki would be patient, level-tempered, and someone who can soothe his past pain as opposed to tell him to suck it up, he deserves it. Sylvie ultimately only adds to his trauma by using him throughout the series despite his permitting her to get close to him.

2- Loki needs to be forgiven for his past sins. Yes, he nearly conquered New York City. The films went over all that. He got punished in TDW. He basically received further punishment throughout Ragnarok, where no one trusts him until the climax, when he pulls through with the escape ship. He's long since redeemed himself, and while Larry!Loki hasn't gone through the events of TDW and Ragnarok, the movies still indicate he can and has felt guilt for his past transgressions. In this timeline, perhaps instead of constantly being punished, he could find a forgiving ally who shows him the deeper sides of himself that remain unaffected by his bad choices. Sylvie is further punishment for Loki, not forgiveness. She puts him down, commands him, treats him like an inconvenience, and he follows her subserviently as if paying off a penance instead of moving forward.

3- Loki needs to be validated and loved without compromise. So few people have shown love for him. Real love. Thor does sometimes, but his relationship with Loki is far from consistent. Loki loves his mother, but he's been shown her death at the TVA so now even that's just another bullet wound in his chest. He's never had any consistency or reason to get comfortable with anyone. The show seems to think Loki doesn't need to be given a soft word or a peaceful embrace because of his past penchant for violence. Why not? We don't tell traumatized veterans to 'suck it up' even after being violent in war (or, rather we shouldn't be). Sylvie taunts and orders him around, devaluing him at every turn and sending mixed signals.

4- Loki needs an equal (at the very least!). Loki is still a trickster, a mercurial god of Asgard who would probably find a companion who measured equal-to (but not above OR below) him in terms of intellect and attitude. Why would he be able to fall in love with anyone who makes him feel unworthy, seeing as he places so much value on power and external validation? I'm not sure why the MCU thinks it's anywhere in Loki's MO that he'd be romantically/sexually attracted to being 'beneath' his partner. Wouldn't the opposite be true, given how he LITERALLY TRIES USURPING THE THRONE?? Sylvie is stated outright to be his superior in every way, serving to only further demote Loki's worth in his own eyes.

Characters can be left up to interpretation, but I still think it's messed up as hell to say that Sylvie is perfect for Loki. I sincerely get by on the thought that, odds are, TH hates the character as much as we do. I think it's travesty that all the hype around season 2 implies that we really getting the continuation of the 'true love story' of Loki and Sylvie.

#anti-sylvie #anti-sylki #mcu loki #loki season 2 #tom hiddleston