#when the table of ranks was in its full power

[arrimorr]

My ocs, Sir and Ser, aka the eldritch malevolent policemen 😔

[beloveds-embrace]

(The awaited regicide addition! A huge thank you to @sun-daddy-yoriichi and @thegreyjoyed for reading this beforehand and giving me their thoughts and pointing out the typos I missed! To @nightunite and everyone else, I hope you all enjoy!)

Original Post

Dukedom masterlist

The halls of the Palace were as oppressive as they were grand, a suffocating testament to a monarchy that, to you, had long since lost its soul. Towering columns of alabaster rose toward impossibly high ceilings, their surfaces carved with scenes of divine rulers ascending to eternal glory. The frescoes above- gold-leafed and luminous- depicted gods bestowing crowns upon mortal kings, and with those crowns, the right for greed.

It was a vision of power untouched by humility, a stark and painful mockery of the kingdom that groaned under its weight. Under its own monarchy’s weight.

You moved through the opulence with the practiced grace, your silks whispering softly against the cold marble floors. The jewels at your throat sparkled, but they felt like chains around your neck. No amount of finery could shield you from the oppressive weight of those walls- or the eyes of the man who ruled within them. You couldn’t wait until you could leave at last.

King Edgar, on the other hand, sat upon his throne of carved ebony and gold, draped in garments that spoke of wealth beyond even your imagination. But the man beneath them was a creature of cruelty. His gaze was sharp, predatory, as though he were dissecting those before him for weaknesses to exploit. Edgar wielded his authority like a weapon, each word carefully chosen to cut deep.

And you had made the mistake of challenging him. You and John both.

When Edgar imposed brutal taxes to fund yet another palace wing for a Queen never satisfied, for the concubines he keeps, John spoke out in the council chamber. When he refused aid to the starving eastern provinces, you arranged for secret shipments of grain. Neither defiances were ever bold enough to be declared treason, but it burned like an ember beneath his throne.

For this, you both earned Edgar’s ire.

But it wasn’t just ire. You wish it had just been ire.

Edgar’s disdain for you, specifically, had taken a far more personal turn. At court functions, he would find reasons to draw near on the now-rare chance you weren’t close enough to John, his presence impossible to ignore.

His hand would rest on your shoulder, his grip firm enough to press a message into your skin: I am in control. His words were always mix of thinly veiled insults and mocking observations, the look in his eyes something that made your stomach twist.

This last court gathering had been the worst yet. Edgar had been in rare form, seated at the head of a long banquet table while nobles competed for his favor. You had been seated nearby, as was customary for a duchess of your rank, but unfortunately, proximity to the king was a double-edged sword not even John could outright protect you from.

“You look radiant tonight, Duchess Pricee,” he had said, his voice loud enough to draw the attention of the room. John’s hand landed on your thigh, squeezing lightly, comfortingly. “Tell me, do you think your husband appreciates your beauty, or is it wasted on him?”

The comment was met with nervous laughter from the assembled nobles, their eyes darting between you, John, and the king. You forced a tight smile, keeping your voice measured. “The Duke has always been a man of great appreciation, Your Majesty. For beauty, and for substance.” You turned to look at John then, finding safety in him.

Edgar’s smile didn’t falter, but his eyes darkened. The conversation moved on, but the tension lingered like a storm cloud. Later, as the banquet ended and the guests began to disperse, Edgar found you near one of the towering windows while you waited for John to finish speaking with a Baron. The light of the full moon was beautiful, but there was nothing serene about the way he cornered you.

“You should know your place, Duchess,” he murmured, his breath brushing your ear as he leaned in far too close to be proper. The scent of his perfumes was so heavy it made your head swim unpleasantly. “Perhaps I’ll remind you of it one day. You’d make a good teacher, at the very least, for my other women.”

The implication behind his words froze you to the core. You felt his hand graze your arm- light, but too close-before he turned and strode away, leaving you trembling with suppressed fury and fear. Queen Vivian, the only witness to this encounter, merely cuts you a dark, nasty look before she leaves as well.

You hated him. You hated her. You hated both of them.

You tell your men as much later that night, after Kyle helped you shower and kisses every inch of your skin until you could no longer think about the way Edgar had touched you.

John’s face darkened as you spoke. He sat by the fire, his broad shoulders hunched, his hands gripping the arms of his chair like he was holding himself back. Across from him, Simon’s jaw ticked, eyes unreadable beneath the flickering shadows of the room. Johnny paced the room, his usual good humor replaced by a simmering rage, while Kyle stood in the corner, his expression calm but his hands tight while he held yours.

“He’s a bastard,” Johnny muttered, accent thick with anger. “I’d love ta wipe that smug grin awff his face.”

“He’s more than a bastard,” John said, low and dangerous. “He’s a threat. To her. To the kingdom.”

Simon leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “This isn’t just about his treatment of her. The people are starving, dying in the streets while he and the Queen feast on their labor. They are desperate, and will grow more desperate as winter fully comes…” he trailed off, but you had always been sharp enough to read between the lines.

And still, you hesitated. “…are you saying that-?”

John looked up, his eyes meeting yours. “We are saying it’s time for a change. If this continues, we are looking at a kingdom that will fall.“

He stood up, striding until he was pulling you into his arms and Kyle easily let you go. “But if we stop it now… we are looking at a kingdom that will prosper under new rule.”

And so, the plan was born in that room.

But still, plans and results take time. In that time, you still do your best to help your people:

The smell of smoke lingered in the air, heavy with the scent of charred wood and burnt houses. You stood at the edge of a village that had been reduced to rubble by one of the king’s careless decrees- his soldiers had come through a week ago, demanding supplies the villagers couldn’t afford to give. When they refused, their homes were set ablaze, leaving them with nothing but ash and grief.

And now, you were a witness to it. But you wouldn’t be a bystander.

John stood beside you, his face carved from stone. His shoulders and back were set straight, but his eyes softened when he turned to the group of villagers huddled nearby.

They looked up at him with a mix of awe and apprehension, as though they weren’t sure whether to trust the tall, battle-hardened man who had appeared out of nowhere with promises of help, and he couldn’t blame them. He likely reminded them of the same soldiers that ruined their lives, but he hoped your presence would soothe that animosity just a little.

Simon moved silently among the wreckage, not a Duke; masked and armoured, he had no identity in this moment. Yet, when a small child stumbled toward him, soot smudged across her cheeks and her eyes teary, he knelt without hesitation even when he could see her father and mother rushing towards them.

“Easy now.” he said, his voice low but gentle as he handed her a chunk of bread from his pack. The girl blinked up at him, her tiny fingers clutching the food as though it might vanish if she let go. Simon stepped back when her parents reach them, nodding his head towards them.

“Got the last of the grain sorted,” Johnny called, his arms loaded with sacks of provisions like the other servants. His coice carried a warmth that drew the attention of the villagers. “We’ll get it distributed fair and square- no one will be left hungry, aye?”

And Kyle was already speaking with the village elder, his calm, measured tone putting the man at ease. He had a natural way of connecting with people, one you were so fondly familiar with, and soon, the elder was nodding, gesturing to the scattered remains of what had once been homes. “We’ll help you rebuild,” Kyle said firmly. “But we need to know if any of the king’s soldiers are still nearby.”

They weren’t worried about repercussions or punishments; the King and Queen would just likely use this as an opportunity to boast about how they convinced John Price and his lovely little wife to help those in need.

As the men worked, you found yourself among the women and children, offering what comfort you could. You knelt beside an older woman who was cradling a young boy with a bandaged arm. “You’ve done well to keep it clean,” you said, inspecting the makeshift dressing. “But it needs proper tending. Let me help, please.”

She hesitated for a moment before nodding, tired eyes brimming with gratitude. As you worked, the boy looked up at you, his small voice breaking the silence. “Are you the Queen?”

The question startled you, and you glanced at John, who had overheard. He smiled faintly, his expression softening as he turned back to the villagers he was helping.

“No,” you replied, brushing the boy’s hair back gently. “I’m just someone who cares.”

Though you still heard the older woman sigh quietly. “… should’ve been you the Queen.”

Later, as the sun dipped below the horizon and the village settled into an uneasy calm, the five of you gathered around a fire with the villagers, everyone now with coats and blankets to fight off the chilly night.

“They will likely not come back.” John told them, easing them more. “But even if they did- the Duchess and I will help. The Price and Riley duchies will never turn you away.”

You glanced at the men surrounding you, their determination. They were the hope these people desperately needed. Not a greedy King and an impassive Queen.

Your plans had to succeed.

Late at nights, you all sit together. Tonight, you were pressed to Johnny’s side, finding comfort in the soft smell of sugars and cinnamon and his arm warm and heavy around you.

John spoke, his voice a low rumble. “The army’s discontent is no secret. Edgar’s burned too many bridges, especially with this recent village raid, and Simon and I still have allies who’d follow us.” His blue eyes met yours, steady and unyielding. “But we’ll need more than soldiers to topple a king.”

Simon nodded. “That’s where Kyle comes in.” He said, squeezing Kyle’s hand. “His network runs deeper than the king realizes. Servants, merchants, guards and soldiers- they all talk. We’ll plant the seeds of truth, let Edgar’s reputation rot from the inside out.”

Kyle leaned against Simon, squeezing back. “I don’t need to do much. People are already whispering. About the taxes, the famine, the soldiers running unchecked. Give them a reason to believe the king can fall, and they’ll push the rest of the way.”

Johnny grinned, his usual lightheartedness sharpened into something fierce. “And that’s where I come in, eh? The common folk already hate him. They just need a spark. I’ll give it to them- allies, stories, newspapers, whatever it takes to light the fire.”

Then all eyes turned to you.

“You want me to be the face of this,” you said, more a statement than a question. Your heart pounded in your chest, but you… weren’t afraid. You trusted them fully and unabashedly.

“You’re more than the face,” John said firmly. “You’re the reason, beloved. The people already call you the People’s Duchess. They trust you. They have reason to trust you.”

Simon leaned forward, his gaze locking with yours. “They need someone they believe in. Someone who cares about them more than titles or power.”

“You don’t have to be ready,” Kyle added, gentler. “You just have to lead. We’ll do the rest.”

Johnny kissed your cheek, raising your hands to kiss your knuckles. “They see you as hope, lass. And hope’s a powerful thing.”

Such a big responsibility, and yet…

If they believed you could lead this, maybe you could.

Another night, weeks into the planning, spreading and investigating, John found you in your study. The room was dimly lit, the fire casting warm light over the worn leather of the armchairs. You sat by your desk, going over the latest reports from the villages who were slowly and steadily understanding, when you felt his presence behind you.

“You shouldn’t have to carry this alone, my Duchess,” he said softly, leaning over you to brush a kiss across your bare nape, jewelry forgone for comfort.

You turned to face him, smiling. When he cupped your cheeks with such gentle hands, you leaned into his touch right away. “I’m not alone. I have all of you, no?”

John stepped closer, his fingers brushing your skin. “We’ll protect you. From him, and from anyone who dares to harm you.”

His words, the protectiveness that laced each letter, carried a weight that made your breath hitch. When he leaned down, his lips brushing yours in a tentative kiss, you didn’t pull away. Instead, you reached up, tangling your fingers in his hair as the kiss deepened, his hand sliding to your waist to pull you up and closer.

When Simon walked in moments later, he froze. Then, with a low chuckle, he closed the door behind him and stepped into the room. “Didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“You didn’t,” John said, voice husky as he straightened, his hand still on your waist. You were trying to catch your breath, butterflies fluttering in your stomach and a slow, curling heat between your thighs.

Simon’s eyes met yours, and for a moment, the air grew thicker and warmer. Your dress felt like too much on your skin- you wanted to take it off. “You’ve no idea how much you mean to us, do you, darling?”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, and when he stepped closer, his hand cupped your cheek with surprising tenderness. He leaned in, his kiss slower, more deliberate than John’s, but no less consuming.

When the door opened again, it was Johnny and Kyle who entered, their expressions shifting from surprise to something far more intense as they took in the scene. What followed was a night of you being adored, their touches and whispers a vow, a promise to make you Queen, a devotion that words could never capture.

Eventually, in due time, it happened.

The coup began with the precision of a blade, honed by months of preparation and carried out by hands both steady and ruthless.

Under the cover of night, John and Simon led their soldiers into the Palace, moving like shadows through the grand halls. Years of military training were evident in every step, every silent order given and every hand waved. John’s voice cut through the tense air as he directed his men, his commands sharp and decisive.

Simon reminded everyone why he had earned the respect he was given.

Kyle’s network of informants worked in perfect synchronization with the military strike, just as they’d predicted. Loyal (to the people) servants within the palace dismantled its infrastructure from the inside- locks were jammed, gates sealed, and secret escape routes collapsed.

What had once been a fortress of power was turned into a cage, leaving Edgar and Vivian trapped within their own walls.

Beyond the palace, Johnny roamed the streets, igniting the people’s fury like sparks to dry timber. His words were a rallying cry, weaving tales of justice and liberation that resonated with a populace crushed under Edgar’s rule. Crowds gathered in the streets, their anger swelling into an uncontainable wave and further encouraged by Johnny.

By dawn, the city was awake, and its people were ready to reclaim what had been stolen from them.

Inside the estate, you paced the length of your study, the minutes dragging by like hours. The room felt stifling despite the cool night air, your thoughts a cacophony of fear and hope. You had wanted to be there, to stand beside them in the heart of the action, but your men had insisted you remain safe and sound. The helplessness clawed at you, but you trusted them.

You had to.

The doors burst open, and Johnny stepped inside. His clothes were disheveled, streaked with blood and soot, but his grin was feral and triumphant and you could feel a matching grin forming on your face. The fire in his eyes was unshakable. “It’s done. The palace is ours, lass. It’s time.”

The throne room was a battlefield, its previous grandeur marred by the evidence of the rebellion. The alabaster columns still stood tall, but the golden trim was tarnished by smoke and blood. Soldiers that did not join the rebellion lay bound and defeated across the marble floors, their weapons scattered.

And at the center of it all knelt Edgar, expensive robes torn and stained, his crown discarded and dented, all glory stripped from him. Vivian clung to him, her once-perfect facade crumbling into a mask of fury and fear.

“This is treason!” she shrieked, her voice piercing the heavy air. “You’ll hang for this, all of you! Guards! Guards!”

Edgar ignored her, and raised his head as you entered, enraged. “You dare to challenge me?” he spat, blood his voice trembling despite his bravado. “You think you can rule this kingdom? You’re nothing but a woman playing dress-up, a woman with too much freedom-“

You stepped forward, the sound of your heels- Simon had bent down himself, kissed your ankles and placed them on your feet by his own hands- echoing through the chamber. The weight of your fury steadied your voice as you replied. “And you’re nothing but a tyrant who will be forgotten. You will not be remembered for your glory, or achievements. Just… a simple speck of dust.”

At your signal, Simon hauled Edgar to his feet with ruthless efficiency, his gloved hand gripping the torn fabric of Edgar’s robes.

Edgar’s sneer faltered as his gaze flicked to John, then to Kyle, whose cold, measured gaze spoke of a resolve that could not be broken. Finally, his eyes landed on Johnny, who leaned casually against the throne, his dagger spinning idly between his fingers, his grin sharp as the weapon itself.

“You’ve surrounded yourself with traitors, John-” Edgar hissed, but his voice wavered, betraying the fear he couldn’t suppress. “This bitch-“

“Watch your words.” John shoved his sword right in front of Edgar’s face, a scoff falling out of his mouth, while Simon chose to grip Edgar by the roots of his graying hair, pulling tight. “The mud at the bottom of her heels is worth more than you’ll ever do, Edgar. Do not speak of treachery when you, your wife, and your family had betrayed this kingdom first.”

The weight of John’s words hung heavy in the air as Edgar’s sneer crumbled, and for the first time, you saw fear in his eyes.

It made you… happy.

It made you happier to know what their fates were, watching Simon and Johnny drag them away. You’d have to kiss them extra hard later… including some other things, of course.

When the throne room was finally cleared, John ordering the soldiers and Kyle speaking to the palace servants, you lingered near the grand windows overlooking the celebrating city. The adrenaline still coursed through your veins, leaving you trembling.

The men found you there, the tension of the night giving way to a quiet that was almost more overwhelming.

Johnny reached you first, his usual teasing grin tempered with a softness you rarely saw. “You were bloody brilliant in there, sweetheart,” he said, warm and fond. “Never seen a tyrant look so small.” His hand brushed your arm, and his voice dropped, the edge of his accent rougher now. “You’ve got more fire in you than half the men I’ve known.”

Before you could reply, John stepped forward, his presence grounding you. He cupped your chin with surprising tenderness, tilting your face. “You’ve had more done tonight than Edgar’s done in all his miserable life.” He’s quiet, filled with pride.

Simon appeared at your other side. His gloved hand settled on your waist, unyielding. “You’re ours now,” he murmured, low and rough. “Our Queen. And no one- not a king, not an army- will ever lay a hand on you again.”

Kyle joined you last. His fingers brushed yours, as gentle as a whisper. His eyes were on the celebrations and songs, then on you. “You’ve given them hope,” he said softly, admiration shining through. “You’ve given us all hope, love. Let us retire for the night, hm? Everything else can wait until the morning.”

“For now,” Simon cut in, shaking his head, and his eyes were alight and alive. He looked at you in such a way that made you shiver, cheeks warm. His hands settled on your waist, squeezing. “I’d like to see our Queen on her rightful throne.”

No disagreements rang out.

And in the morning, the sun rose on a kingdom reborn.

Standing on the palace balcony, a crown on your head, you looked out over the gathered crowd. Their cheers rang out, echoing through the city with a fervor that sent pride up your spine. The people had come not just to celebrate the fall of a tyrant but to welcome the dawn of a new era.

As the golden light bathed the kingdom, you felt the weight of your new crown. It was heavy, but you were not alone; you had John, your King. Simon, Kyle, and Johnny. All of them were with you, supporting you.

You’d never want for anything else.

[blasphemousclaw]

ok I keep seeing takes that shadow of the erdtree fumbled the hornsent because they made them too unlikeable and unsympathetic and enabled all those “total hornsent death” weirdos but I wholeheartedly believe that the writers have been portraying the hornsent sympathetically from the very beginning. like just because the story spends time on the darker aspects of hornsent society doesn’t mean that it’s arguing that Marika and Messmer were in the right? in fact I think it’s pretty obviously arguing the opposite? 

some of the first sights you’ll see in the Shadow Lands are the scorched ruins, which are surrounded by hornsent grave markers — wooden stakes each with a horn affixed to it, horns being seen as sacred objects in hornsent society. the victims’ shades (by the look of them, ordinary people; farmers, merchants, and laborers) can be found wandering around the Shadow Lands and are often non-hostile; they can be found kneeling, weeping, stacking small stones, or clasping their hands in silent prayer.

there’s a courtyard in Belurat completely filled with hornsent graves, and it’s also the place where Queelign invades you… the sheer number of graves here is horribly sad, and the fact that Queelign attacks here even after all those people were killed honestly makes him seem like an absolute monster

just look at this menace. knocking over the graves of the people he murdered. shame on you Queelign

further into Belurat there’s a very small, missable room where you can pick up the Dried Bouquet talisman: 

“A quaint bouquet of dried flowers, offered to a small grave. Raises attack power when a spirit you have summoned dies. The sorrow that flows from the untimely demise of a loved one is a tenderness shared by all, regardless of birthplace.” 

this description is pretty directly saying like, “hey, these people are human beings just like you who grieved the loved ones they lost, who couldn’t sympathize with that?”

my personal favorite examples here are the scorpion stews, which are given to you by Hornsent Grandam after defeating Divine Beast and wearing its head: 

Scorpion Stew: “Scorpion simmered in a black soup. Traditional meal of the hornsent. Boosts physical damage negation temporarily and gradually restores HP. Once made with love by a certain elderly woman for the family table. Having long gone cold, this soup gives off a rank, sour smell.” 

Gourmet Scorpion Stew: “Scorpion simmered in a black soup. An exquisite dish chock-full of mouth-watering scorpion claws. Boosts physical damage negation temporarily and gradually restores a great amount of HP. The thoughts and feelings of the cook melt and blend into the stew, but those who can distinguish the taste of love are few and far between. "Partake, partake, until thou art sated.”” 

how can you claim that the hornsent are dehumanized when grandma literally cooks you a traditional hornsent meal made with love!!! how heartbreakingly sweet is that!!! especially with the dialogue you get from Hornsent if you share the stew with him:

“What’s this? Do you think me in need of alms? Ah… but this dish. Tis fare o’ the tower. I remember fondly this kin-clad scent. …Brings back memories I’d all but forgot. This, by my troth, is but a dismal copy. Indeed, I think it rather plain to see… things once broken can never be the same.”

we’re presented with the image of a delicious traditional meal that hornsent families used to cook and eat together, and then we remember, Hornsent Grandam is all alone, she has no one but us to cook stew for, and Hornsent has no family anymore to share his stew with. 

before wrapping this up I want to mention Leda’s dialogue about the hornsent because I think it describes the situation pretty well (surprisingly well maybe, given what she’s like): 

“Long ago, Queen Marika commanded Sir Messmer to purge the tower folk. A cleansing by fire. It’s no wonder the hornsent holds the Erdtree in contempt. That aside, man is by nature a creature of conquest. And in this regard, the tower folk are no different. They were never saints. They just happened to be on the losing side of a war. But it’s still a wretched shame.”

the hornsent were not a perfect society. far from it. but no society is perfect, and the hornsent need not have all been saints for what happened to them to have been wrong. no person has the right to act as judge, jury, and executioner for an entire civilization of human beings. if people want to take the very worst of hornsent society as representative of their entire population and argue that every single one of them deserved to die then I’m afraid that’s their problem, because the game absolutely does not agree with them

[thewickedjazzy]

Level 3: "Clap" [Shibari] for Kinktober.

ᡣ𐭩chuuya nakahara x afab! reader.

ᡣ𐭩Synopsis: chuuya lays down the law, reminding his men what happens when they stare too long at what's his. how far can you handle being the executive's little ragdoll?

ᡣ𐭩Warnings: nsfw mdni, feral! chuuya, possessive! chuuya, shibari and bondage, consent is taken prior and mentioned, public sex, power dynamics, mafia theme, d&s, degrading kink, voyeurism, exhibitionism etc.

ᡣ𐭩Word count: 1.5k.

ᡣ𐭩-check Kink Coin to unlock bonus fics´-

“tch, c'mon doll,” his voice purrs against the delicate skin behind your ear as your body trembles beneath him. “don’t tap out now, not when we’re just gettin’ started.”

you can barely stifle your gasps, eyes watering from the relentless pace he’s set. he’s merciless, ramming into you with a ruthless rhythm while your eyes flutter open, shamefully glancing at the stunned faces of the men in the room. every one of them is frozen in place, trying desperately not to look directly at you—chuuya's little masterpiece bound and bent over the meeting table, but none dare move or speak, hoping they can run out of the meeting room by now.

but there’s no escape.

you, a high-ranking executive who painstakingly earned the respect of everyone in the mafia, are now reduced to this? one incident. that’s all it was, or so you tell yourself. it started as a usual afternoon, just like any other. chuuya overheard a small group of mafiosos talking—no, leering—about how good you look today in that tight black dress.

you expect him to be furious, of course. it’s in his nature to be possessive. sure, you’re just fuck-buddies—or so you try to convince yourself—but deep down, you know there’s always something more beneath the surface.

you expect him to drag you away and fuck his anger out somewhere private, as usual when something sets him off. but this?

this is something else entirely.

not even in your wildest dreams did you think he’d lose control enough to dumb-fuck you in front of nearly all his subordinates, putting on a twisted show for the port mafia.

the cherry on top? you’re tied up, completely at his mercy. bound in intricate shibari ropes, every inch of your body tightly wrapped in the most degrading way possible. the ropes dig into your skin, every knot and loop perfectly crafted by chuuya’s skilled hands. your "oh so hot black dress" is bunched up around your hips, stretched taut as chuuya’s cock slams into your slick cunt without mercy.

of course, chuuya isn’t stupid. he won’t show off your bare ass to his men. but he has no problem letting them see you bent over the meeting table, utterly wrecked, completely at his mercy. this isn’t just fucking—this is a deadass message, loud and clear: you’re his and his only.

no one dares to leave, let alone utter a word. they sit there, trying to remain composed, shedding their gazes away from your fucked-out form. their faces drip with fear, and perhaps something way darker they won’t dare to admit.

speaking of the devil, chuuya leans in enough to whisper in your ears, making your skin shiver under his hot breath, “you sure you’re okay, doll? you can stop this whenever you want.”

you nod, feeling his lips brush against your temple to plant a kiss on it with a shaky breath. as much as you curse yourself for enjoying this more than you should, you know he’s making sure you’re fine every step of the way. of course, he'd never push you past your limits, right?

your heart skips a beat as his hand slips down to his belt, fingers deftly gripping his gun. he pulls it from its holster, the cold metal gleaming under the low light of the meeting room as he holds his gaze with every mafioso in the room, daring anyone to make a move.

“you know what to do,” he sneers, lifting the gun and pointing it at the room full of his subordinates. “you’re gonna sit there and watch. and when she cums, every single one of you is gonna clap. got it?”

and of course none of them dare to move, eyes wide with fear as the barrel of chuuya’s gun swings lazily from one face to the next, waiting for anyone to object to say something-but they won't.

chuuya leans down again, voice raspy, "see, doll? they’re all watching how good you’re taking my cock," his breath brushes lightly against your bare collarbone. your face hits the table as you let out soft mewls when he tugs sharply on the ropes with his free hand, pulling you back onto him. "maybe next time they’ll think twice before running their filthy mouths 'bout what’s mine...ngh fuck, doll, yer' squeezing me so good" he specifically breathes out the last part, tilting his head back with a groan.

you bite down on your lip, trying to swallow the humiliating pleasure burning through your body, but chuuya isn’t having any of it.

“don’t hold back, doll,” he growls, one hand fisting the ropes at your back, pulling you up just enough so he can bury his face into the crook of your neck. “let them hear every little sound you make when you’re stuffed full of me.”

your eyes widen, chest heaving as you try to fight back the moan crawling up your throat, but it’s impossible—with the way chuuya’s cock keeps hitting that sweet, devastating spot deep inside you.

“ch-chuuya, please,” you finally gasp, your voice breathy and completely wrecked as you tremble in his hold.

he lets out a low chuckle, his other hand still holding the gun as his hips rams into you again. “don’t worry, doll. they’ll give you the applause you deserve.”

before you can answer, he shifts his hips slightly, driving into you even harder, and your head falls back, a sharp, broken moan escaping your lips. the knot of tension in your belly tightens, and you realise with horror that you’re close—too close.

"you’re gonna come f'me, doll?" chuuya growls into your ear, his gun still aimed steadily at the room. "and when you do, they’re gonna clap, or i’ll paint the walls with their fuckin’ brains."

he tilts your chin toward the room of onlookers, your blurry vision focusing just enough to see their wide, disbelieving eyes.

your whole body heats up with shame, your pulse thundering in your ears. but the way chuuya’s rough voice and degrading words sink into your skin only winds the coil in your belly tighter, the humiliation blending with unbearable pleasure.

his fingers trail down the front of your body, brushing your clothed breasts before dipping lower, sliding between your legs and under your dress to find your soaked, swollen clit. you jerk at the sensation, hips bucking involuntarily into his touch.

“no—” you whimper, trying to pull away, but the ropes binding your body make you helpless against him. every nerve is on fire, every touch from chuuya sending sparks of pleasure straight to your core.

“no?” he mocks, his fingers circling your clit in slow, torturous strokes, his cock still thrusting deep inside you making your deliciously velvety walls clench around him with every thrust. “your body’s telling me otherwise, doll mmph..you’re drippin’ all over me..guess it turns you on being watched, huh?”

you can’t answer, can’t even think straight with the way he’s working your body. your mind is swimming in a haze of lust and embarrassment, your heart pounding in your chest. yes you did agree to this, yes you once told him you’d be down for some public sex, but never on earth did you imagine he’d take your words that seriously?

chuuya tugs on the ropes again, forcing you to arch your back, giving him better access. his pace quickens, fingers moving in sync with his thrusts, and you feel your release creeping up on you, faster and harder than you ever expected.

“chuuya nghh.. i—” you try to warn him, but it’s too late. the heat creeping in your belly snaps, and you cry out, body shaking as waves of pleasure crash through you. your vision blurs, and all you can feel is the overwhelming intensity of your orgasm, his name falling from your lips in a broken, desperate sob.

“now,” chuuya growls as his gun stays trained on the men in front of him. “clap.”

the sound of your ragged breathing and the obscene wetness between your thighs is suddenly joined by the awkward, terrified sound of hands coming together, a hesitant applause filling your ears. the mafiosos’ eyes dart between you, chuuya, and the weapon in his hand, knowing they have no choice but to obey.

you can't focus, the room spinning around you. but chuuya’s not done. his cock twitches inside you, and he slams into you one last time, growling low in his throat as he fills you up. the sensation of his hot cum spilling inside you sends another ripple of aftershocks through your already wrecked cunt.

you’re barely coherent, barely aware of anything other than the slick mess between your legs and the ropes digging into your skin. but his grip on you tightens as he slowly pulls out, the sudden emptiness almost painful.

as the last of the clapping dies down, chuuya leans over you, kissing the spot just below your ear, "you see that, doll?" he murmurs, "now they know that you’re mine. every fuckin' inch of you."

he steps back, adjusting his pants with a lazy smirk, leaving you tied up, quivering and on display for the room full of stunned subordinates. they’re still frozen, eyes wide, breaths shallow, unsure whether they’re allowed to move or speak.

chuuya turns to them, his usual confident smirk back on his face, "remember this moment," he says, eyes narrowing "next time any of you think about laying an eye on what’s mine, you’ll get more than a fuckin’ show."

he twirls the gun before slipping it back into its holster, "now, get the fuck out."

the men scramble to their feet, rushing to leave the room without a word, their fear obvious as they file out.

he gives one final, possessive glance at your exhausted, flushed form, still tied up in perfect shibari knots on the meeting table, completely spent. his lips curl in satisfaction as he walks toward the door, but not before leaning in one last time to whisper in your ear:

“you did so well, i’m proud of you, my sweet little doll.”

TAGS: @a-smol-bean @violetbutterflix @amanoava @falloutjuli @embersweapons @warriordemigosworld @cathias @alyszuha @v15aexe @vasarii @pe4rl-diver @sukidenks @dazaifavbandage @chuuminn @fyodorsprettynun @ace-0fspades69 @irasamu @trippyserval @alyszuha @bittysuguro

[fxckn-sxck-fr]

❗❗ HEY ❗❗ I SAUR YEW ADD BUCKY BARNES TO YOUR MLIST 🫵🫵🫵 YOU AINT SLICK ❗❗

anywayssss would you be willing to rank your comic book men on least to most willing to kill for their darling? i know we got your opinion on dick but i wanna see how it compares to everyone else

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐂 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐋𝐘 𝐓𝐎 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋…

!!! GN reader, mentions of death/murder, violence, breaking bones, intimidation, threats, manipulation, general mental issues, biochemical attack (how the fuck did we get here), mutilation, self-harm, can be translated as either romantic or platonic.

Help, why did the beginning of this ask trigger my fight or flight for 0.2 seconds, LMAO. I dropped my phone like I was caught red-handed or some shit.

So, I initially made an oath to not answer any more asks until I either finish Life With Older Brother IV or my secret side project, but then I got this ask and figured I could use a little creative break. I’m hitting some brick walls right now with all of my writing projects, sobs.

So!! Here we go. Remember, this is in the order of least to most likely in a general sense. Featuring some new faces because I’m finally confident in depicting their comic book counterparts, yippee!!

Jaime Reyes: Obviously, if the scarab had its way, anyone who poses as a threat to Jaime’s beloved would be neutralized. But we’re talking about Jaime. As long as he’s in full control, he’d probably do everything in his power to not kill anyone, even if it’s for you. He knows he’s fucked in the head. No matter how hard he tries to convince himself it’s still just the scarab preying on his anxieties, it’s getting harder and harder to distinguish Khaji Da’s thoughts from his own. This spiral into insanity around his own morality and guilt would have him cling oh-so desperately to the idea that he’s still a hero. To him, the no-kill role is the only way to know for sure he’s still (kind of) himself.

Bruce Wayne: He’s The Batman. Of course he doesn’t kill. Sure, he may be a bit more violent towards potential threats when it comes to you, but he still doesn’t kill. It’s a core belief that he’ll stick to for as long as evil lurks in the shadows of Gotham. Besides, why would he need to kill when cracking a few ribs gets the message across just fine? Most people don’t even want to fuck with him in the first place; both as Bruce Wayne and especially The Batman. In many cases, simple intimidation will do the trick. It’s much neater than violence. Though violence is definitely still on the table when he’s in a mood (Alfred, for the last time, he does not need a therapist. He’s perfectly functional).

Clark Kent: Whereas Batman doesn’t kill, Superman can’t kill. Meaning, Clark is well aware of the image he has to uphold as the ever-so hopeful Man of Tomorrow. Which is actually fine by him. Due to his strong sense of morals, the thought of blood on his hands makes him sick to his stomach. But there are some cases where that dark voice in the back of his mind whispers he could easily snap the neck of that weirdo talking to you. Of course, this is clearly just a strange intrusive thought, and he guiltily shakes it out of his head the moment it appears. He’s Superman, for heaven’s sake! He’s better than that! Stooping to that level is simply not an option. But you know what is an option? Gripping people hard enough that their bones shatter. Accidents do happen, after all…

Wally West: The chances of him killing are very slim. Believe it or not, he’s not against the idea or anything (only when it comes to you), it’s just he doesn’t see the need to get his hands dirty. There are enough tactics in his arsenal that the thought won’t even cross his mind. A silver tongue can work miracles on its own, and standing at 6 feet tall, Wally can be surprisingly intimidating in his own right. Should there be any threat agains you, he’s more focused on getting you out of harm’s way than beating the shit out of anyone (that comes later, away from your prying eyes). At worst, anyone who pushes their luck will get fractures and road rashes as a result. Killing just isn’t an impulse Wally has. But if it absolutely has to happen… well, wouldn’t that be a shame?

Dick Grayson: As mentioned before in a previous ask, killing is off the table. Dick’s still a hero, and heroes don’t kill. It’s just that he miiiight accidentally lose control if he sees you in a critical state. The ask goes into much deeper detail than this, but to sum it up, he would feel devastated afterwards but eventually justify it to himself. It was to protect you… if he didn’t do it, god only knows what would’ve happened. Otherwise, he’s not one to get his hands dirty like that. The most he’ll do is deliver a very ominous threat that doesn’t outright mean he’s going to kill anyone, but the implications aren’t very pretty. And, if he can help it, he’d rather if you’re not in earshot. Unless if he somehow sees it as a good manipulation tactic. Then sure, you can hear all about how he’s going to drown someone in their own bathroom.

Peter Parker: He has a strong aversion to killing. Now, is that an outright no? As much as he’d like to think so, there are situations where no-kill is optional. Most of them involve you being in active danger. While he doesn’t go out of his way to kill anyone, he sure as hell isn’t thinking about the survivability of his rampage to make sure you’re safe. Causalities would be collateral damage; unfortunate, but possibly necessary. He also has a habit of threatening people’s lives when he’s particularly pissed off. As long as you’re not in some sort of critical state, he usually doesn’t follow through with them (and may even feel guilty afterwards). That being said, hearing your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man deliver a cold one-liner about wanting someone dead is still hella scary.

Steve Rogers: Listen, it’s not at all what he wants. He wouldn’t advocate for murdering your problems away both with or without the shield. But sometimes — just sometimes — it’s necessary. Of course he’d kill someone that posed as a threat to your personal safety. That doesn’t make him a terrible person or anything; most people would do that for their loved ones. Where the line starts to blur, however, is when there isn’t any immediate danger. Does that weirdo who was looking at you for too long count? God— no, Rogers. What is wrong with you?! But… then again, there was this look in their eyes… something’s just so off about them. Ultimately, Steve wouldn’t go through with it, but the thought does cross his mind. Not that he’d ever admit it, of course.

Hal Jordan: The answer is yes, but mostly because he’s a Lantern. Sometimes, neutralizing the threat is necessary. He would absolutely kill if it meant saving your life. Is it ideal? Absolutely not. Is it cathartic?… Lowkey. Hal’s not afraid to abuse his right as a Lantern to “neutralize the threat.” But keep in mind that this is a rare occurrence that depends on his mood. Really, he only considers it for situations you’re extremely distressed by, like some piece of shit giving you the creeps. He wouldn’t kill for his own personal gain, as much as he sometimes wants to; this is all about you, not him. I also don’t really see him having regrets. If he wants someone dead, he absolutely means it.

Remy LeBeau: It’s simple; if he’s gotta do it, he’s gotta do it. He’s got not moral hang-ups when it comes to killing. He doesn’t do it often, but he’s willing to clean up a mess or two if needed. The need to kill ranges from your personal safety to just not liking someone’s vibe. If that were the case, he’d give the poor sucker more than enough hints to leave you alone. Murder would be a last resort should they not listen; which is totally on them, by the way. Gambit can’t help it if they’re not the sharpest tool in the shed. Is kinetically charging someone’s car to explode not enough of a warning or something? Man, what is wrong with people these days…

Tim Drake: Okay. Tim is just so versatile. Yes, he’s absolutely morally opposed to killing. Yes, it’s a necessary evil. Yes, the thought of it makes him want to throw up. Yes, he’d do it in a heartbeat for you. Somehow, all of these thoughts coexist in his sick little head. What makes Tim a threat is the fact he’s extremely unstable. One day, he’s got himself in check; god, he would never kill anyone, why would he do that?! Then the next day, he seems to have a change of heart; if anyone even looks your way, he’s dumping anthrax in their cereal. His preferred method is something clean, but if he’s in a particularly bad mood, he may revert to some mutilation with his nails. On those particularly violent days, he’d much rather harm himself than others, but there is something cathartic about scratching at someone else while sobbing about minute problems. Though that’s one hell of a “did I do that” moment when it’s over.

Scott Summers: Yes. And he’ll fucking do it again, too. When it comes to you, this man has killed people by accident before. Did he give a shit? Absolutely not. Why would he care if someone doesn’t know how to protect their spinal column when taking a blow; especially if it’s someone who dared to lay a hand on you? And, yeah, he’s supposed to be a good role model for mutants all over the globe, but a good leader knows how to take calculated risks when needed. Your safety is his top priority, meaning he’ll do whatever he deems necessary to keep danger away. Man, is it just absolutely brutal watching someone’s skin melt away from the friction of one continuous optic blast. Who knew he could cave in skulls with that shit?

Bucky Barnes: Let’s be honest, is anyone surprised? Yeah, that’s what I thought. You could simply point to someone you hate and they’d be gone within the next 24 hours. Bucky isn’t here to fuck around. While he may regret any kills he was forced to carry out, he sure as hell doesn’t regret the ones he’s actively choosing to do. If anything, his conditioning has left him no other way to show his total devotion to you. Yes, this means you he leaves fresh human hearts at your doorstep. Yes, this means he strings up the remains of your annoying colleagues where you can see them outside. Yes, this means he watches you sleep while caked in blood and guts after every nightly kill. Some small part of him knows it’s wrong, but he really could not give less of a shit. So much for trying to reform him…

[cappulcino]

hi!! saw your requests were open!! I dont have anything super specific in mind but an enemies to lovers plot with a lucifer x angel reader would be very cool!

Sure! I was originally going to write the whole thing and post it as a one-shot here, but I got overexcited with this idea and couldn't resist turning this into multiple short chapters and already giving you the first one (idk, let me know if you'd rather have the whole thing when it's done).

Seven Days Til Fall (Part 1)

Part 1 – Part 2 – Part 3 – Part 4 – Part 5 – Part 6 – Part 7

Read on AO3

Words: 2,185

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Angel!Reader

Summary: You're an angel sent on a divine mission to retrieve a powerful relic that has been stolen from Heaven. The orders are clear: gain an audience with the Devil, make deals with them if necessary, anything to return that object to the Silver City. But Hell is not quite what you expected, and neither is Lucifer.

Trigger warnings: None in this chapter (let me know if you think I should add some)

In the beginning, this assembly had seemed no different from the other monotonous celestial meetings the Divine Council liked to conduct. The session was strictly organised and full of unnecessary details, as per usual, golden light shone through the large windows, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the Silver City –routine, in short.

But now the Archangel Michael was calling your name, and you weren't so sure this would be your typical angelic meeting any more. Nobody ever called your name, it wasn't among those that mattered. Why was he calling your name?

Straightening your slouched back and wings, you answered with uncertainty. "Y-Yes?"

Michael offered a fake smile before returning to his bureaucratic demeanour, his hands joined only by the fingertips on the table.

"As you know, the Cup of Eternal Grace has been missing for quite some time now."

"The… Cup of Eternal Grace. Missing. Yes."

You had forgotten about that –your mind had surely deemed that to be another 'unnecessary detail' from one of the previous assemblies. But it was coming back to you now. The chalice, made of celestial metals and inlaid with precious stones had the power to bestow divine grace upon those who drank from it, offering visions, blessings, and, for humans, even limited immortality. And indeed, the artefact had been lost for a while.

Michael's eyes narrowed at your hesitation, but he continued.

"One of our emissaries on Earth had found a lead on the Cup tracing back to some… obscure cult. Unfortunately, by the time he got there, the humans had traded with a demon –they do like to do this for a reason that escapes me. We now have cause to believe the Cup is in Hell."

"I see," you said slowly after a short silence. You weren't sure why this had anything to do with you.

"Its presence in Hell could easily disrupt order or worse, be used to bargain with divine entities. It cannot stay there. We need someone to retrieve it," Michael replied as if annoyed to have to spell out the evidence for you.

Ah, now you understood.

"Me?"

"Yes. You."

That Heaven could have so foolishly lost an object that had the potential to tip the balance of the entire universe when in the wrong hands was already astonishing to you. But to entrust you with the task of going to Hell, assuredly face its ruler, and retrieve the Cup? That was hardly believable, and for an angel like you, who had to Believe, that said something. Why didn't Michael go himself?

"I… don't understand. I'm merely a Dominion, and the Morningstar is Your sibling, Your Grace."

"Yes, so that's your job."

That was Gabriel talking down to you as if you had just uttered the most unintelligent thing in front of the whole congregation.

"Besides, we're not going to waste our time when others have been designated for that kind of risky stuff. That would be…" He let out an inelegant snort-laugh.

"What Gabriel means," Uriel intervened in their usual soft-spoken voice, "is that angels among the higher ranks have other matters to attend to, but we cannot ask this of anyone with lesser powers. And well, it is your function to execute divine orders." Uriel paused, scrutinizing your expression. "Would we be making a mistake by putting our faith in you?"

You gulped.

"N-No."

"Good."

Plans had been made, and you were now approaching the gates of Hell. Protocol required that you banged a sort of gong by the entrance, and a dead mortal fused into the wall handed you a mallet. You had read somewhere once that the Damned made Hell what it was. At the time, you hadn't understood that meant this realm was literally made of the Damned. You winced and then, forcing the politeness out of your angelic mouth with a small "Thank you", you grabbed the tool.

The gong's echo made the other souls trapped around the gates scream and then, accompanying heavy steps, a deep voice growled.

"There's one at the door. At the gate of damnation. Is it thief, thug or–"

Squatterbloat, the gatekeeper suddenly froze in his speech when his gaze landed upon you. An angel, in Hell. Quite the unusual sight.

"Whore?"

"Peace be upon you, demon."

As you uttered them, you realised how ironic your words sounded. Squatterbloat chuckled.

"We don't accept holy brochures."

His sense of humour compensated for his dreadful looks, and you managed to stop your wings from shuddering.

"That is not why I'm here."

"Then state that business of yours."

"I seek an audience with your sovereign."

"Do you now, little cloud-hopper? I fear the Devil doesn't have time for your affairs."

You approached the gate, your wings spreading in a foolish attempt to appear menacing, your tone still polite but steely.

"I am an envoy of Heaven, and the matter is urgent. Even you cannot go against God's will, demon. Take me to your master."

Squatterbloat's eyes remained fixated on yours for an instant, and then, his keys jangled.

"Mmh. Right this way… If you dare."

"Oh, what a joyous day," Lucifer purred with a faint smile before relaxing on their throne with a sigh. "Can you feel it, Mazikeen? The innocence? So pure."

"Shall I ask for more guards to stand by Your side?"

"That will not be necessary. That little angel is no threat to Us."

You were certain the ruler of Hell had sensed your arrival –how could they not?– and your suspicions were immediately confirmed when you entered the room. Sitting regally on their throne, the Lightbringer did not even bat an eye as they eyed you and the heavenly glow that surrounded your body. If anything, they seemed… amused.

You had heard many stories about them –though most of those tales still spoke of a Samael– but you had never seen them. Imagery was forbidden in Heaven, of the Devil more than anyone else, and you had never been down to Earth to look at the various depictions humans had made of them either. Therefore, you took a moment to marvel at their appearance, so foreign and yet so familiar, and as your gaze roamed over their leathery wings, you wondered if that was what became of angels' wings after the Fall.

In fact, you wondered about so many things at once that you almost forgot your manners. But Mazikeen's insistent look quickly pulled you out of your reverie.

"Uh, yes. Apologies. Peace be upon You, Lucifer Morningstar," you greeted with a slight bow of your head. "And upon you, Mazikeen of the Lillim." It sounded even sillier than when you had said it to Squatterbloat.

Lucifer let out a small chuckle then and exchanged looks with Mazikeen. Then, as they turned to face you again, they smiled.

"It is unusual for Our Father to send His subjects down here. Almost an event, We might say. To what do We owe the pleasure?"

Lucifer's words dripped from their mouth like honey, and you weren't sure whether you found it more captivating or terrifying.

"Well?"

You shook your head and straightened your back some more to give yourself a semblance of presence, and undertook to explain why Michael had sent you here.

"Our dear brother has never liked getting his pristine hands dirty," Lucifer remarked once you were done.

They stood up, took a few slow steps in your direction with a thoughtful expression, and then stopped a mere yard away from you. The way they towered over you and the power they radiated felt overwhelming, and a shiver ran through the feathers of your wings.

"It is not a task fit for his rank," you said. And for a brief moment, you almost convinced yourself of what Gabriel had told you earlier today. Almost.

Lucifer raised an eyebrow as if seeing right through you and perfectly understanding the lack of conviction in your own words. A doubtful angel. Oh, this day could not get any better.

"Tell Us," they said, now pacing through their throne room. "What do We gain from helping you?"

The question startled you. What did the Devil gain from obeying God for once? Not another divine punishment, that's what.

"Excuse me?"

"We said, what do We gain from helping you with your task? We sure hope you did not come all the way to Our domain expecting a pretty smile to be sufficient to convince Us."

That… serpent. You clenched your jaw, resisting a sudden urge to speak from your heart while Lucifer kept on smirking devilishly.

Taking a deep breath, you chose to show yourself open to discussion instead.

"What is it You wish for, Lightbringer?"

Lucifer pretended to think about it, gazing into the vastness of their realm, and then spoke firmly.

"A single visit to the Silver City."

Your heart stopped.

"And open the gates for You to terrorise us or attack the Creator? Absolutely not."

"Then forget about the chalice."

"The Morningstar may believe angels are foolish, naive creatures, but I assure You I'm not that stupid."

Your defiance intrigued Lucifer, who gauged you for a second.

"No…" they eventually said. "Indeed. Which is why We are fairly certain you will know how to convince the Divine Council. Tell them We have no intentions of wreaking havoc in their home if that is what they are so worried about."

"Then why?" you asked somewhat harshly.

"You would not understand."

"Your Majesty, I–"

"There will be no need for further discussion, little angel. Either you manage to get Us what We want and We will do everything in Our power to help you, or the Cup of Eternal Grace remains in Hell. In which case, do not even bother coming back."

"They said what?"

"The Morningstar wishes to be able to visit the Silver City, Your Grace. Just once."

You were now standing in the bright room where the heavenly meeting that had got you sent to Hell had been held a few hours ago, alone in front of the five members of the Divine Council. You felt small, but not as small as you had felt in front of the ruler of Hell.

"Yes, we heard that part," Azrael replied rather angrily.

Somehow, their tone managed to make you feel as if you had already failed your mission, and it took a lot of self-persuasion to stand your ground. You were only repeating what you had been told, after all.

"They, uh…" You cleared your throat and tried again. "They said they had no intentions of attacking Heaven, and I think their words were genuine."

"Hello, this is Satan we're talking about," Gabriel said, exaggerating their diction as if you were mentally impaired.

"My sibling does not lie, Gabriel," Michael reminded him. The other Archangel sighed. "If you will excuse us, the Council needs to consider Lucifer's offer."

Taking the hint, you bowed and promptly left the room to find refuge in the closest chapel. Once there, you dropped to your knees for the Almighty and clasped your trembling hands so tight your knuckles turned white.

"Forgive me Father for I have sinned…"

You started repenting because you couldn't help but feel as if it would be your fault if Heaven ended up needing to make a deal with the Devil. You should have resisted and told Lucifer that they deserved their banishment from the Silver City and that never would they be welcome here again. You should have fought them if needed, though you would have been doomed –you would have died a martyr, and maybe for once your name would have mattered in Heaven. But you hadn't.

Deep down, you also prayed for the Council to give up on the Cup of Eternal Grace. Hell was a terrible place, and Lucifer a dangerous monster, your sworn enemy. You didn't want to go back to Hell. Not for a stupid goblet.

But as soon as you came out of the chapel, Gabriel was standing in front of you, his hands behind his back. As God's messenger, you knew he was here to pass on the Divine Council's decision.

"So. We have deliberated and we want you to carry on with the mission. You will go down to Hell every day, do whatever you need to do, and come back up every evening to report before compline until you find the Cup. Okay?"

You opened your mouth to answer but only managed a weak, strangled sound. Gabriel didn't give you enough time to speak anyway.

"Great!" he exclaimed as he slapped your shoulder. Then he pointed at the chapel. "Is this free?" Again, you tried to answer, but he was already gone.

Feeling an irrational anger rising inside, you decided you needed a break, some time alone spent in silence, not even in prayer. Angels, like other immortal beings, didn't need to sleep, but you wanted to forget about the world for a while. So you flew back to the Dominions' quarters to lay on your soft bed.

And there was evening, and there was morning –the first day.

[magicalbats]

never fallen from quite this high

Rating: R/18+

Word count: 21490

Warnings: afab!reader, chubby reader, size difference, age difference, desk sex, missionary position, cunnilingus, barebacking, vaginal fingering, cum eating, a hint of enemies to lovers

A/N: I put my whole badussy into this one, guys vmsksjfe I hope ya'll enjoy the fic, and major shoutout to my longtime friend, fellow writer and quality checker for this piece @abbacchiosbelt! Everyone should make sure to check out her page while you're here! She's got plenty of goodies for you to sink your teeth into!

⭐

As far as meetings in the back office of the Northland Bank were concerned, this one was an unmitigated disaster. 

The young man seated across the table had blown in like a veritable typhoon late that morning when the sun was just short of reaching its zenith. He came with neither a formal missive or a courier to precede his arrival, catching all the Snezhnayan natives off guard and woefully ill prepared. It wasn’t hard to figure out that the branch director, a stout bespectacled man in his middle years, hadn’t known he would be coming given the way he’d nearly fallen over in a dead faint at the first sight of him. It was almost nonstop chaos after that as everyone rushed about to prepare fresh coffee and snacks, and to arrange lodgings for their guest. A few staff members even quietly slipped off at the director's behest to double check that everything was in order behind the scenes, silently disappearing off into the shadows like phantoms returning to their dark crypts.  

You hadn’t been sure what to make of it all at first, but had quickly caught on that this was someone important in their ranks. Someone with a great deal of power and influence who was in all likelihood a dangerous individual no matter how disarming his easy smiles were. 

But, truth be told, the mysterious man didn’t look like much no matter how you tried to discreetly size him up from a distance. He was tall yet lanky in build, moving with the thinly veiled grace of a warrior — or perhaps a dancer, but your mora was on the former if he was able to work everyone up into such a frenzy just by showing his face. And despite his lean physique, you could tell he was indeed quite strong simply by the way he carried himself, all boldfaced confidence and self assured the way only a man in his prime could pull off. He was definitely trouble. 

And you wanted absolutely nothing to do with him. You were just the PR ambassador, after all, and a token one at that. Your job was to help foster good relations between the icy foreigners and your fellow Liyuean’s, not to insert your nose in business it didn’t belong. 

With that in mind, you’d tried to beat a hasty retreat before anyone could notice your presence and subsequent absence, but the director was a crafty one indeed. You barely made it two full steps before he was suddenly right there beside you, as if he’d materialized out of thin air to cut off your escape route. Summarily ignoring your protests, he’d dragged you with him towards the conference room nestled in the far back of the building where the unknown youth was already waiting, depthless blue eyes dancing with good humor and mirth. The click of the door behind you had sounded like a death sentence.  

The following half hour was occupied (to your surprise) primarily with pleasant niceties and intermittent toasts over that potent firewater Snezhnayan’s seemed to like so much, but which you had primly declined. Even if the stuff didn’t make you gag at just a thought, the current situation was a bit too uncertain for you to risk compromising your faculties like that. None of the northerners in the room seemed to bat an eye at it though; not the director or his personal secretary, nor the ginger haired man who was evidently known to his colleagues as Childe. He seemed almost too casual about everything — the drinks and the banter, and the fond reminiscences of their homeland casually passed between them — to be here on official matters of business. You soon concluded that it was a personal visit, then. Perhaps even a holiday of sorts. 

You’re quickly proven wrong, however, when he unceremoniously flips everything on its head with the procurement of a sealed parchment from somewhere on his person. The director’s reaction to its contents was a stark one and it made you sit up straighter in your seat, half prepared to bolt for the exit should the need arise. But the next few minutes are a terse, confusing whirlwind as the three foreigners revert to their mother tongue, trading rapid volleys back and forth while the director’s tone of voice grows increasingly more tremulous by the minute, and you aren’t quite sure what’s going on anymore. You’re almost convinced that a fight is going to break out at any moment but a surreptitious glance at Childe shows him still at ease, apparently not even invested enough in the discord he’s sewn to give the other man his full attention. Rather, you catch him grinning over at you. 

“Is he always like this?” He poses the question lightly, the lilt in his voice bordering on playful, but you don’t trust it. Not by a long shot. 

The director sputters in thinly veiled offense but you ignore him completely, much more concerned about the yet unknown danger sitting across the table. Making a valiant effort to keep your expression pleasant and neutral, you offer Childe a polite smile. “Not usually.” 

He quirks a brow at that vague non-answer but doesn’t comment on it, swiveling his attention back around to the issue at hand. Finally pulling himself out of his confident slouch, he sits forward to take up the crystalline glass decanter sitting just within reach so he can pour more of that pungent drink into first the director’s cup and then his own. “Come now, old friend. Is this really something to get so worked up about? And right in front of our Liyuean guest too …” 

The director cuts you a sharp, slicing look and you get the sense that he was regretting the decision to drag you back here for this impromptu meeting, visibly struggling to rein his temper in with a deep, bullish exhale. Serves him right, you think bitterly to yourself. You never had any business sitting in on this bizarre exchange in the first place. 

“Apologies, my lord. I did not mean to forget my manners,” Another brief glance over at you, as if he were trying to warn you to keep your head down. As if you really needed any further incentive to do just that. “However, it is my deepest regret to inform you that I’m not confident if this branch of the Northland Bank has the means to accommodate your, ah … needs.”

Slowly, Childe lifts his strange eyes to pin the director with a look that sends shivers racing down your spine. You’d been relatively certain he was far more dangerous than he outwardly appeared but this was something far beyond even what you had anticipated. How did someone so young, still in the prime of his youth with his whole life ahead of him, manage to embody such a deep, dark sense of foreboding at the drop of a coin? 

“What are you saying, Krzysiek? Are we not in Liyue, the very birthplace of mora? There should be plenty to spare in your vaults.” 

The director hurriedly rushes to amend himself, trying to play it off with a laugh. “Yes, my lord. Of course, that is all indeed true. But even the amount of mora in circulation at any given time has its limits. You see, if I were to give you this very large sum here and now,” the director pointedly taps the parchment in his hand with a worn finger. “Then there won’t be anything at all left in our reserves. We wouldn’t be able to give out any new loans, pay our staff their wages or even let any of our customers withdraw from their accounts. I can’t imagine the owner of the bank would appreciate that very much, so I’m sure you understand my hesitation.” 

Mouth opening in surprise when you realize just how large a sum the request must be, you eagerly swing your head towards Childe in anticipation of his next response. 

Luckily for you, he doesn’t even seem to notice with the whole of his attention fixed singularly on the director, and you watch in something not unlike fascination as he slowly leans forward in his seat. “Are you an idiot? It was Regrator himself who signed that order.” He growls, flashing pretty white teeth. “Check it again, maybe a little more carefully this time. I’m not some lackey trying to pull one over on you.” 

“Certainly not, my lord. I never suggested - -“ 

“You may report directly to my colleague but I’m still a Harbinger, Krzysiek. I think Regrator would like your lack of foresight even less than not being able to let people take out withdraws.” 

A pair of sharp gasps echo inside the room and, in almost perfect unison, the director and his secretary both turn twin looks of horror on you. 

Pulse stuttering, you pointedly keep your expression blank even while the urge to reel back in shock threatens to overpower you. You’d heard rumor of the Tsaritsa’s Harbingers, whispers of their great influence and even greater strength, but the Snezhnayan’s stationed in Liyue weren’t very forthcoming about any of the details or specifics. You’d also never seen one in person before and hadn’t thought it was even possible for one to be so young as this. Childe looked like he was perhaps only a few years younger than you … three, or perhaps even four, but yet he held a title so grand? 

And judging by the way they were looking at you, you probably weren’t supposed to know that. 

Following their line of sight, Childe glances over at you and smiles. “Ah, you’re worried about our little guest here spilling the beans? People will soon start to gossip amongst themselves anyway, so I don’t think it really matters.” His boyish grin fades as he turns his attention back to the director again, tone losing all of its mirth. “I’d say you have much more pressing concerns right now.” 

Nervously, the director drags a stiff hand over his mouth to wipe away the beads of sweat starting to form along his upper lip. “Yes, my lord. Of course. You are correct.” He pauses to clear his throat. “I’m sure we can find a satisfactory compromise. Please allow me a chance to correspond with, ah, my lord directly and confirm his wishes first. Surely there are things you’d like to see or do while you’re in Liyue? This will at least give you the chance to explore the city at your own leisure while I await his response.” 

“You mean to further waste my time, Krzysiek? Is that it?” 

“No, not at all! I would never dream of such a thing and that is precisely why I brought her along.” He gestures at you then, making your back snap straight as board. You don’t think you can hide it any longer, the dread curling like a venomous serpent low in your gut, but if he sees any of the thinly veiled terror in your face he doesn’t acknowledge it. “As I said earlier, this is our personal relations ambassador at the branch and she knows the city like the back of her hand. Why, I dare say there isn’t a single stone she doesn’t know the history of. You’ll have your own personal tour guide to show you everything you might ever wish to see while you’re here.” 

Your mouth drops open in abject shock. You hadn’t agreed to that. Wouldn’t have even if he’d asked, not now and not in a million years. Not ever. 

But Childe turns his head before you can protest and anything you might have said catches in your throat when he gives you a chilling once over. Gradually, his expression thaws and his shoulders relax as he reclines back into his seat with a long suffering sigh for effect. “Fine. You have three days to get your clearance directly from Regrator then. That’s how long I was planning to stay in Liyue anyway so it doesn’t exactly change anything, although I still don’t understand why his signature on that letter won’t just as well suffice.” 

“My sincerest apologies, my lord. I only wish to make absolutely certain I do not go against his wishes in meeting yours.” The director reaches out to hold his cup up to Childe who disinterestedly eyes it for a beat before doing the same with his own, much to the older man’s visible relief. “Our ambassador will take good care of you, and see that your every need is met during your stay. This I swear on Snezhnaya’s honor.” 

“Enough, Krzysiek.” Childe grumps, clinking their glasses together. “Just don’t come up short handed when everything is said and done.” 

You watch them drink to it, tossing their heads back almost simultaneously to swallow down that deceptively clear liquid with neither a grimace or a seething hiss to show for its potency. It’s as if it doesn’t even register in their minds but you, on the other hand, felt disproportionately nauseous considering you hadn’t had so much as a sip of their aptly named firewater. You didn’t even really understand what was happening or how things had gotten to this point but if there was one singular truth you were sure of it was this: 

You desperately needed to find some way out of it. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Dejectedly, you hand the fresh grilled skewer of fish out to Childe who takes it with a smile and a quick word of thanks. He doesn’t even stop long enough to blow on the visibly hot meat before biting into it, and you watch him huff and puff between chews to let some of the steam escape from his puckered lips before quickly swallowing it down. Your patience with him was fast unraveling, and not even because of his questionable manners. If you were honest with yourself you would have had to admit that he was frustratingly charming in a boyish, borderline clumsy sort of way. Cute, even. 

But your desperate attempt to weasel your way out of this had fallen on deaf ears, the director insistent that you were the only person in all of Liyue who could possibly play tour guide for the visiting Harbinger. You’d begged, pleaded and even threatened to resign from your position at the Northland Bank right then and there if that was what it would take for you to avoid having to deal with the situation any longer. The director had finally wavered at that, looking like he might be slowly coming around, but before he could actually relieve you of this assignment none other than the devil himself had appeared, right on cue. 

He was eager to set out and get started on exploring the city after freshening up, and hadn’t taken ‘no’ for an answer when you’d argued against it. Your pleas for a little more time with the director were likewise summarily dismissed, and before you realized what was even happening he’d thrown a friendly arm over your shoulder so he could steer you towards the door. Completely undeterred by any of your hissing complaints or threats of retaliation upon him, he pulled you straight out into the midafternoon sun where he’d made a prompt request for lunch. He was so amicably pushy about everything that you’d had no choice but to comply or risk having him drag you all over the harbor by the arm.

That hadn’t been the best start to your time together but, somehow even worse, is that Childe had proven himself to be every bit as troublesome as you’d first expected him to be. He joked too much, for starters, and his penchant for eagerly pulling you off in whichever direction caught his fancy was quickly running you ragged. Excitable and full of unspent energy, it was all you could do just to keep up with him. You’d tried to tell yourself it would only be lunch, just one place and then you would wipe your hands of him, but he was undaunted and things were still not going in your favor. 

Even stopping at a small kiosk for a quick snack was not enough to keep him standing still for very long and the two of you are soon off again in a seemingly random direction, as dictated by his spur of the moment whims and fancies. You were going to be exhausted by the time this day was finally over. 

“Hey, what’s that all about?”

Bringing your head up, you follow his line of sight to a small congregation of people flocking around a lone figure in the center of all the bustling excitement. You recognize the bonnet immediately, and a smile slowly pulls at your mouth. “That is our very own star of the opera. Her name is Yunjin, and she’s very popular among the general public and aficionados alike.” 

But when you bring your gaze back around, you’re startled (and more than just a bit horrified) to find his attention fixated on you rather than the crowd. 

“Oho, so you do know how to smile! I was starting to wonder if you just didn’t remember how.” 

“W - what is that supposed to mean?” You snip, recoiling defensively. 

“Oh, nothing,” he sing-songs right back. “It’s just that all I’ve seen you do so far is scowl and look like a skittish kitten ever since we met. I’m glad to know you like something, even if it isn’t me.” 

Childe’s lilting laughter makes the blood rush to your face, and you quickly look away so he doesn’t see the fluster you were valiantly trying to stamp down. “Forgive me, xiansheng. I did not mean to be rude. It’s just — all of this was dumped on me so suddenly and you’re …” 

“Hm? And I’m what?” 

This shameless teasing was perhaps the worst facet of his personality of all. The pushiness and the refusal to acknowledge any protests were one thing, the strange dissonance in his behavior another entirely, but this … it was vaguely reminiscent of a boy who either hadn’t yet learned his manners or didn’t care enough about the consequences to keep his mouth in check. You suspected it to be the latter, his confidence as unerring as his energy, and you would’ve had half a mind to give him a good swat on the behind had he not been nearly double your height and only a few years your junior. Unfortunately, you were in no position to correct him. 

So you school your expression into a professional mask of indifference and turn your head to pin him with the most bland look you can muster. “A Harbinger. It’s true, isn’t it?” 

He quirks a brow at you, evidently not having expected that to be your response. “Is that really what’s had you so on edge this whole time? You’re worried about my title?” Abruptly throwing his head back, he laughs up at the sky. “Goodness, I had no idea that upset you so much. If I’m being honest, you were so stoic back at the bank that I wasn’t even sure if you knew what a Harbinger was!” 

You can feel your cheeks starting to turn hot again and you quickly try to wrestle it back under control. “Of course I’ve heard the rumors! It would have been a little hard to avoid them in this position but you Snezhnayan’s usually aren’t the most talkative bunch, you know. I’m sure there’s plenty of information I’m still not privy to.” 

“Ooh, and is that your way of asking me to help you understand a bit better?” Childe sends you a slow, knowing grin, and you have no choice but to admit that you were in a bit over your head with him no matter how much you might try to fight it. He was regrettably adept at embarrassing you, it seemed. 

“It might be nice to know what I’ve got myself mixed up with.” You softly, grudgingly admit, earning a chuckle out of him. 

“Alright. I suppose I can share a few details with you, but I want to ask a few things in return. How does that sound?” 

Your head snaps up and you fix him with a surprised, questioning look. Ever unperturbed, he ruefully wags his skewer stick at you with an unmistakable, mischievous gleam in his strange eyes. 

“It’s only fair, right girlie? I’ll tell you what you want to know and you’ll tell me what I want to know. Isn’t that what alchemists call equivalent exchange?” 

Huffing, you cross your arms under your breasts and pin him with a flat look, trying to impart just how unamused you are with his silly little shenanigans. “Don’t call me that. And I don’t know anything about alchemy, but … okay. I’ll play along. Within reason.”  

Your answer seems to delight him to no end, and he promptly flies off into a rather expressive tangent about Snezhnaya, her majesty the Tsaritsa, the Fatui and the eleven Harbingers that command their numbers. He gesticulates eagerly throughout his explanation, primarily touching on rank and hierarchy, but it soon becomes gibberish that simply goes in one ear and out the other. You were not intimately familiar with the inner workings of either government or military, and you had no desire to be, but you decide to let him keep talking anyway. It was clear he was only telling you very surface level information that would neither give away too much or reveal any national security secrets, but there were still a few things you were able to glean from listening to what he did say. 

One was that the Harbingers were not only a very, very dangerous organization as a whole but even on an individual scale each was more powerful than the last. It was a little hard to believe at first when you were looking at Childe — so young and long-limbed, and seemingly unfettered by any greater concern than where his next source of entertainment would derive from, but recalling the intense shift in his demeanor back at the bank … yes, you were willing to believe he stood among the most elite warriors in Snezhnaya. Although you hadn’t seen his physical prowess in action yet (and hopefully never would) it was a decidedly good idea not to take him at face value. Doubly so for the rest of his colleagues, including the one you yourself indirectly worked for. 

The second was the nature of his visit to Liyue. He danced around the subject for the most part but he did let it slip that he was headed to Fontaine after securing the funds, presumably per his orders to personally transport the mora himself, and you supposed that did make a certain amount of sense. If he was as strong as you believed him to be then it would explain why he would have been saddled with such a task. Though, it also didn’t escape your notice that he spoke on the subject with no shortage of annoyance coloring his voice and it was hardly any wonder why. Childe was clearly the type who preferred hands-on, proactive roles that put him in the heart of conflict rather than acting behind the scenes like this. He wasn’t exactly trying to hide it, after all. 

Regardless, it was somewhat reassuring to know that many of your initial assumptions about him had been correct and you now knew with absolute certainty that you needed to be careful in how you approached these interactions with him. It wouldn’t do to somehow offend him and invite his wrath upon yourself or your family, because clearly there would be no stopping him in that case. But did that in turn mean you were stuck playing tour guide for the duration of his stay, lest you risk upsetting him?

This was turning into quite the conundrum, indeed. 

“And that’s about it.” He says at last, much too cheery for your liking. “For what I can tell you, anyway. I know it probably seems like I left quite a bit out but trust me, girlie, you don’t want to get tangled up with this more than you already are. Hopefully I was able to satisfy some of your curiosity though.” 

“You did,” you murmur slowly. Then, with more conviction, “And don’t call me that. Didn’t I already tell you that once?” 

Laughingly, he waves you off. “Yeah, yeah, I get it. But let’s put that aside for right now. It’s my turn to have some questions answered. Think you’re up to it?” 

You hesitate, wondering what he could possibly want to know. If it was information about Liyue you would have gladly divulged it without the need for this trade between you and him, but you’d long since picked up on the fact that he just liked being difficult for the sake of it so it didn’t exactly come as a surprise. It was a bit annoying though, having to humor these silly games of his like this. 

“Alright, I’ll do my best.” You say at last. “Just keep in mind that I can’t tell you something I don’t know. Your questions have to be within reason, remember?” 

“Oh, don’t worry about that. I’m sure you won’t have any problem answering this.” 

Growing ever more suspicious, you quirk a brow at him but he just offers you that same boyish grin again. If the circumstances had been any different you probably would have found yourself giving in to its magnetic pull despite your (well founded, in your opinion) reservations about doing so, but even that attractive smile was not enough to distract from who — or rather what he was, and you brace for the worst. Was he going to ask you about the Qixing or maybe Lady Ningguang specifically? The Milileth? 

Your thoughts are abuzz with the possibilities but the very last thing you expect him to ask is precisely what comes out of his mouth next. 

“Do you have any siblings?” 

Stopping dead in your tracks, you stare up at him in abject disbelief. That was what he wanted to know? 

“Hey, let’s keep it moving, girlie.” He can’t seem to get his laughter under control as he pivots on his heel and takes hold of your elbow, pulling you back into motion again. You fall in step, stumbling slightly, as he pins you with the most mischievous grin you’ve seen yet — the unapologetic rascal! “Wouldn’t want anyone to run you over, now would we? I’m not sure if my poor little heart would ever recover.” 

Lips pursing, you narrow your eyes at him in warning even while he whoops it up, drawing the attention of more than just a few passersby. How humiliating it was to be seen with someone like this in broad daylight. 

“I’m an only child.” You grit out, snatching your arm from him with a prim huff for good measure. 

Your prickly attitude doesn’t deter him half as much as you would’ve liked though, and Childe merely takes it in stride as if you weren’t doing everything in your power short of stomping on his toe to dissuade him from continuing on in this manner. So on and so forth, he eagerly poses a seemingly never ending series of questions that range from as benign as how old you were (three years older than him, you come to find) right up to your relationship status. You try very hard to shut down his more intrusive queries, refuse to humor them with a real answer, but his pushiness returns with a vengeance. Any attempt to side step or discourage him was just met with the same question worded a different way until you finally gave in with no other choice and no escape in sight. More than once he even pretended to move on from a topic to placate and soothe you before eventually circling right back around to it again when you least expected it. 

He was exhausting in the worst possible way. Unrepentant and shameless, utterly hopeless, he badgers you incessantly for the rest of the afternoon until you could scarcely tell what was what anymore. You’d never felt quite so harried or like a cornered rabbit in all your life. 

By the time you finally make your way back to the Northland Bank, hours later when the sun was sitting low on the horizon and you’d had to put your foot down about returning before dark, you practically have to drag yourself up the winding staircase just to reach the entrance. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been so tired, and not just physically but mentally as well. Childe, on the other hand, did not seem to be flagging at all and he takes the stairs with ease and that same innate grace you’d first noticed in him earlier, bounding ahead to reach the landing first. 

Assuming he’d already gone inside, you achingly pull yourself up the last few remaining steps only to come to an abrupt halt when you find him standing there with the door held open. Waiting. For you? 

He snickers at your expression, further putting you on guard. “Don’t look so surprised. It’s the least I can do after nagging you so much.” 

That was the very definition of an understatement.

You don’t budge though, slowly curling your hands into loose fists at your sides when it occurs to you that just returning to the bank did not necessarily mean an end to your suffering. Hadn’t you already endured enough? 

He was incorrigible and confusing, and more than just a little bothersome — like a too-friendly dog with an overabundance of energy that just wanted to play and have all of your attention to himself. You may have been able to make peace with that for the sake of your own wellbeing and that of your family, but when coupled with the barrage of questions that had persisted wherever in the city you’d walked together, whatever you’d stopped to point out in an attempt to distract him from his continuous questioning … you just couldn’t seem to reconcile the problem he presented in your mind.  

If not because you were nothing more than a PR ambassador, not a babysitter, then certainly because being in such close proximity with him was looking even more ill advised than it first had that afternoon. If you didn’t know any better you would have almost thought he was actually interested in you, the way he’d asked you so many personal questions about yourself. But you do know better and you’re well aware that someone like him would never want someone like you. It’s not as if you were blind. The stature of him had certainly not escaped your notice, nor had his boyish good looks. He was tall, a bit gangly at the moment, perhaps, but that was sure to change over the years as he settled further into his own body, into his muscle mass, and finished filling the rest of the way out. And even those most peculiar eyes of his weren’t enough to detract from the high cheekbones of his face or the strong jawline that framed pale pink lips. By contrast, you were soft and round, diminutive compared to him, and not at all the sort of woman a man such as him pursued in good faith. 

Of course he didn’t want you — why would he? It was laughable, if you were being honest. As much as anyone else might have been flattered and charmed to be on the receiving end of his attention, you were finding the whole thing to be a rather nightmarish experience. As if worrying about offending a powerful Harbinger had not been bad enough, now he was teasing you too … And somehow, even knowing all this, that still doesn’t stop it from hurting just a little bit. 

You’d reached the end of your rope as far as he was concerned. You couldn’t do this anymore and you refused to be the butt of his little inside jokes any longer. It was simply too much, even for you.  

“I’m going home.” You blurt out, clearly surprising him given the way his brows shoot up to disappear beneath that haphazard tousle of reddish-brown hair. “My shift ended a while ago. I just wanted to make sure you got back without getting lost, or the director would start to worry if you were late to return.” 

Childe doesn’t even try to hide his disappointment, expression falling as he unceremoniously lets go of the door so that it swings and bangs shut with a heavy thud. The Fatui guard standing on duty, Nadia, sends the two of you a slow look from the corner of her masked eye, making your cheeks grow hot. As if you really needed an audience for this. 

“Aw, don’t say that.” He wheedles you with the added bonus of a frustratingly effective puppy dog pout to really drive the nail home. “At least come in for some coffee and pyshka. I’ll ask them to make it fresh for you, so - -“

“No.” You cut across him with enough vehemence that it earns you another surprised look, those depthless ocean blue eyes widening slightly. Good. Maybe he would finally start to take you seriously now. “I do apologize, xiansheng, but I am tired and I would like to go home and rest. I’m sure your countrymen will be more than happy to entertain you for the rest of the evening, so you shouldn’t be without ample diversion in my absence.” 

He silently regards you for a long beat, the vibrant orange and red cast of the sun washing over him to set his hair aflame, glowing like a hot, smoldering ember. Somehow that same light doesn’t seem to even touch the void in his irises, though, and a faint chill races up your spine with that realization. You’d never seen anything quite like it before. 

But then his smile slips back into place and his posture relaxes — so disconcerted by his strange eyes, you hadn’t even noticed the way he’d been holding himself, as if he were poised to strike — and you quickly take a subconscious step back. For better or for worse, Childe pretends not to notice, merely lifting a hand in farewell while the other comes to rest against his hip in a casual stance. He was completely at ease again. Just like that. 

“Goodnight, then. I hope you rest well. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

Every single hair on your body instantly stands on end. There wasn’t going to be a tomorrow. Not with the way he was acting. “Xiansheng, I can’t - -“

“Don’t worry. I won’t ask you to be here first thing in the morning or anything like that.” He smoothly interrupts you, his expression still pleasant and amicable but somehow … sharper. You back up another step when he shuffles forward but your back hits the edge of the bannister and you freeze, knowing the top of the staircase was not the best place to try testing your luck like this. All you can do is watch as he comes closer and closer until you finally have to tip your head back to look up at him. “You’re welcome to sleep in if you want. I’d hate to put you out, and I’ll just come pick you up if it starts getting too late.” 

You swallow hard in an attempt to lubricate your suddenly bone dry throat. “I won’t tell you where I live.” It’s barely more than a whisper, but it still gets a chuckle out of him. 

“Perhaps not, but Krzysiek certainly will. Oh, don’t make that face, girlie. I already explained it to you, didn’t I? We Harbingers carry out the Tsarista’s will and our word is almost as good as hers. Krzysiek is just trying to cover his own ass by checking in with my colleague first, but if I’d really wanted to start throwing my weight around he would have given me that mora without a fuss. Don’t assume he would shoulder the same risks just to protect a citizen of Liyue.” 

He lifts his hand then, reaching out for you with a deliberate slowness, and you jerk back. Grabbing behind you for the bannister to steady yourself before you can topple head first down the stairs, you glare up at him with as much vitriol as you could muster. “Stop calling me that.” You hiss. It’s the only thing you can think to say. You believed him. 

There was no need to ask for proof or challenge that assertion, because you wholeheartedly believed he was telling you the simple truth of the matter. The director certainly wouldn’t stick his neck out on the line for you and you knew that beyond a shadow of a doubt. If appeasing him meant throwing a Liyuean girl to the proverbial wolf then that was exactly what would happen. But that doesn’t make it any easier to accept how signed and dotted your fate actually was though. 

Unperturbed, Childe retracts his hand in favor of crossing his arms over his chest instead. “So it’s a date then? I’ll see you tomorrow?” 

You don’t even dignify that with a response. Giving him a quick, bitter look, you turn and start to make your way down the staircase, gripping the bannister so tight your fingers ache in protest. You couldn’t believe him! Couldn’t believe the director for putting you in this situation in the first place. But most of all, more than anything else, you couldn’t believe you’d ever thought he was charming. The pain you’d felt at his insistent teasing was well deserved for ever being such a fool but it wouldn’t happen again. You would continue to play tour guide for as long as you were expected to, for as long as you were forced to, but he wouldn’t be getting any more laughs at your expense. 

You promise yourself that as you hit the next landing, feeling his eyes linger on your back before you disappear down the attached corridor and out of view. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The following morning you find Childe already sitting in the lobby of the bank, slouched in a chair and talking animatedly to a masked Fatuus standing next to him. You’d wanted to avoid inviting him onto your doorstep and, having no idea what he might choose to consider as ‘getting too late’, you’d set off from home at the same time you did every day. If he would’ve allowed you to treat it like any other, you would have gladly done just that. 

But as soon as he spots you coming through the door he’s up out of his seat and making a beeline straight towards you, that big, almost dopey smile already in place. You hold your ground though, offering the coppery redhead a look of pure and utter disinterest at his approach. He was not going to get under your skin today no matter what he did or said. If you were not effectively being held hostage against your will you wouldn’t have shown up at all, and you intended to make that very clear to him. 

“Good morning!” He greets you, bright and cheery, and decidedly puppy-like. “I hope you slept well. Would you like some coffee? Tea? Maybe some delicious syrniki to start your day?” 

You quirk a brow at him, a little surprised that there was nary a hint or even a sign of that imposing, dangerously uncanny side of him today, and he wasn’t offering up any apologies for it either. He was acting like nothing at all had happened when you’d last parted ways. Well. That wasn’t entirely true. He actually seemed to be … somehow even more overbearing than yesterday. You hadn’t thought it was actually possible, nor are you sure how he’s managed to find even more energy for today, but you refused to fall for it. The guy was nothing but trouble no matter how overly friendly he tried to be. 

“No, thank you.” Brushing him off, you try to move around him but he surprises you by stepping in the way to block your path. With a huff, you cross your arms and pin him with an unamused frown. “What do you want?” 

“Aww, come on. You wound me, girlie. I thought we were getting along just fine yesterday so what’s with the cold shoulder all of a sudden?” He asks, putting an emphatic hand over his heart as if his feelings were really hurt, and your hackles start to rise. 

“How many times do I have to tell you - -“

“My, my, what’s all this?” The director suddenly cuts in, appearing beside you as if he’d dissolved out of the very shadows themselves. You jump in surprise but a quick look at his pale, vaguely harassed expression tells you he’s likely been faring no better with Childe than you had. Served him right, as far as you were concerned. 

“Good morning, xiansheng Krzysiek. I was just about to go get started on that project you gave me since I didn’t have a chance to - -“

“Nonsense!” He cuts across you so forcefully it makes you snap your mouth shut with an audible click. “Of course that can wait. What’s the rush? I’m sure you’d have a much better time showing my esteemed lord around the city, no?” 

Your stomach lurches and you fix him with a vitriolic glare but he just narrows his eyes and returns the look twofold. It seemed neither one of you wanted to be responsible for Childe today and the resulting stare down between you and your boss is a statically charged one. You’d been hoping to bide some time for yourself so you wouldn’t have to spend the entire day with him, dammit.

“Well, if you ask my opinion,” Childe offers, making you bring your attention back around to him. “I think we should go get breakfast since you don’t want any of our delicious, homemade syrniki and then do a bit more sightseeing. We had a lot of fun yesterday, and there are still a few more places I’d like to go.” 

‘Fun’ was the very last thing you’d call it. In fact, there were an infinite number of things you would rather be doing besides spending more time in his presence, and throwing yourself into the ocean was right at the top of that list. But, seeing that there was no point in arguing when you were effectively trapped, you relent. “Fine. We can grab something to eat first, and then I’ll take you wherever you want to go.” 

“Excellent!” The director barks, clapping you on the shoulder a little too hard, and you turn your head to glare daggers at him. Taking the hint, he quickly composes himself with a discreet, appropriately apologetic grumble. “I do hope you two have an enjoyable time together, my lord, and please let me know if there is anything at all you need.” 

Pivoting on his heel, Childe abruptly steps right into the older man to get in his space. “What I need is for you to stop wasting my time, Krzysiek.” He murmurs, that easy, unbothered smile playing at his mouth doing absolutely nothing to distract from the hard edge in his eyes. Growing nervous now, you take a self conscious step back to put some distance between you and them. “But since that obviously isn’t going to happen, I think we’ll be off. Ready, my little pieróg?”

The director suddenly chokes and sputters, shooting a disbelieving look from one to the other even as you suspiciously narrow your eyes at Childe. Something told you you liked this new nickname even less than ‘girlie’. “Now what are you calling me?” 

“Oh, nothing,” he teases, his demeanor flipping just like that as he reaches out to take hold of your arm even when you valiantly try to snatch it out of his reach. “That, as they say, is for me to know and for you to find out. You’ll have to earn it if you want me to tell you though!” 

And with that, the two of you are off. 

Breakfast at a little stall tucked down a narrow side street turns out to be surprisingly pleasant. Shockingly, even. You admittedly feel a great deal of relief when Childe manages to keep his hands to himself for the rest of the morning and he even seems to have given up on the previous day's inquisition all together. He neither says anything out of place nor does he undergo another of those disconcerting shifts in his behavior. Rather, he is consistent and charming again, as if that offputting display in front of the Northland Bank never even happened. Like it was merely a figment of your imagination and nothing more. 

You know better than that though, and you weren’t going to be persuaded by it. Luckily, keeping him entertained was a relatively easy task so you don’t even have to try very hard to keep things moving. After your meal, you take him to the theater hall to show him where the opera is hosted and even get a chance to introduce him to a few of the staff members who were setting up for a performance later in the evening. He does catch you off guard though when he suddenly asks about seeing the show together, not having expected him to have any such interest in the performing arts. But when you tell him it’s too late to purchase tickets when they were in such high demand he, strangely enough, accepts that answer without a fuss. 

You think it all very strange given how he’d acted yesterday — as if the world itself was his to lay claim to and everyone was expected to just go along with it — but you were certainly not in any position to complain. The more he cooperated the better your nerves would fare. 

From there, you take him to a ceramics shop, a bookstore, a calligraphy studio, a toy makers stall and even to a small perfumer after he’d mentioned having an older sister he might want to buy a souvenir for. He truly seems like a completely different person today, politely listening to what you tell him about this or that, attentively focused and tuned in. You’re ashamed to say it almost makes your resolve falter but you hold firm. After that, a lacquer studio, various boutiques and seamstress shops, a few antique stores that quickly prove much too dusty and boring for his liking. You stop for lunch at Third Round Knockout, enjoy some fine food and entertainment together, and then it’s back to the streets. At his request, you take him down to the docks and show him around the markets there, only to realize somewhere along the line that he must have some kind of background in fishing. The way he talks about it, fond yet distant, like an old hobby he might like to revisit some day, strikes an odd little chord inside you. You hadn’t expected him to have room for sentimentality when he was so busy bouncing around from one extreme to the next. 

The day wears on in this fashion until you at last take him up to the Yujing Terrace gardens, having saved (what was in your humble opinion) the best for last. Childe appears to appreciate the scenery well enough, oohing and aahing at appropriate intervals as you show him through the public grounds, but you can tell he found the docks much more exciting. Hardly any wonder there. A hot blooded young man such as himself rarely had any need for flowers or ornamental fountains, decorative lanterns or the architecture laid throughout. You got the sense he didn’t dislike the pavilion, exactly, but rather he just wasn’t as invested in it as he might be in other things … and yet he was still trying to stay engaged and interested. Truthfully, you found this more than just a little odd. You’d taken him for an entitled brat, and with good reason. 

But the whole situation was strange once you got right down to the heart of it, and you’re understandably glad to finally start making your way back towards the bank shortly after dusk has settled over the gardens and the lamps have been lit. Unlike the previous day where you’d had to all but force him to return before full dark, he acquiesces without a fuss or even any attempt to weasel another half hour out of you. Even putting his penchant for cruel tricks aside, it was almost like you’d spent the whole day with a completely different person than the one you’d first met and this was somehow the most confounding detail of all. At some point you’d started to think he was planning something insidious, just waiting for the right moment to spring the trap, so you had truly expected him to put up more of a fight about it. 

So lost in thought, you don’t realize he’s speaking until he shifts close enough to amicably bump your hip with his narrow thigh. Giving a start, you turn your head up only to find a suspiciously eager smile tugging at his rouge’s mouth and you think, this is it. He’s finally going to say something cute or shocking after all this time and, feeling vindicated, you brace yourself for another taste of his nonsense. You’d known he enjoyed provocation too much to resist the temptation forever. 

“I was saying thank you for today. You make a pretty good tour guide, if you ask me.”

You stumble a step, feeling like the ground itself is opening up underneath you to swallow you whole. That hadn’t been what you’d expected him to say at all. “You’re welcome,” you respond slowly, mouth tugging into a frown. “But there really isn’t any reason to thank me. I was just fulfilling my duties, that’s all.” 

“Aww, don’t say that. You did a great job despite all the trouble I’ve given you so I’d say credit is due. No need to be shy.” 

Heat rushes to your cheeks and you quickly look away. “I am not being shy, xiansheng. I just have no need for your praise.” 

“Oho. Is that so, girlie?” 

You suck in a sharp breath, prickling at that insufferable name he insisted on calling you every time you turned around, but you don’t get the chance to snap at him. Before you can utter so much as a word, his hand is suddenly on your wrist and he’s pulling you away from the main, bustling street into a cramped little alley. Your heart stutters a beat but you can’t quite seem to dig your heels into the ground when his forward momentum seemed to be in full swing, so you just inelegantly trip after him with a tiny squawk of protest. 

Finally stopping towards the far end of the path, Childe turns to grin down at you. Issuing an incensed huff into the still air, you give your arm a quick jerk to try and free yourself of his hold but it’s no good. He refused to budge, and you have no choice but to give up, pinning him with a look of pure exasperation. 

“What are you doing now, xiansheng? This isn’t the way to the bank.” 

“I know, I know. I just wanted to properly show how grateful I really am to my cute little tour guide. You just said you’re not shy, didn’t you?” 

Catching on that he was up to something — for real this time — you once again try to extricate your arm from him. Gingerly, this time. “I’m afraid I don’t know what that has to do with this. I think we should go back to the bank and - -“

He suddenly swoops down and silences you with a hard kiss. You jolt, gasping when his fingers tighten around your wrist to make it clear that there would be no escape until he decided to let you go. That hardly seemed the most pressing issue right now, though. Stock still, you just stand there and try to make sense of what’s happening. The sensation of his mouth against yours, his warm breath mingling with your own and the vaguely citrusy scent of him assaulting you all at once. It was just as overwhelming as the rest of him and you can’t figure out how to react. Finally, eventually, he pulls back to peer at you through the gloom of night, far from the dull glow of the distant streetlights. 

“I know you’ve thought about this. You’re so cute, the way I catch you looking at my - -“

Your free hand flies up, hitting him across the mouth as hard as you can. The gruff sound that bursts out of him is surprised, but not half as hurt as you would have liked it to be. 

“How dare you.” Your voice is a barely there, faltering hiss in the relative quiet with only the distant sounds of city life to act as a backdrop. “I’ve thought of no such thing, and you’ve got a lot of nerve trying to force yourself on me like that!” 

The look that briefly flashes across his face seems almost impressed, if not a little cowed by your reaction, and for a split second you’re sure he’s going to rise to the challenge you’ve presented. But then it’s gone just as quickly as it had appeared, replaced once again by that overly confident smile. “Oh, come on. You don’t mean that. I can see how you look at me. I’m not blind, you know.”

“I’m allowed to look at someone without wanting to kiss them!” You insist, vehemently shoving at his chest. 

To your great surprise, he actually lets you push him back a step and he releases your arm in the process. You quickly take that chance to back up towards the waiting lip of the alley but he follows you with his eyes, a predator tracking its prey, and you hesitate to make a run for it. One quick look at his long legs assures you he could outpace you all too easily. You’d never make it far against someone like him and the eager gleam dancing in those strange, strange eyes discourages you from trying. That didn’t mean you had to quietly stand there while he played his stupid little games though, and all at once the dam suddenly gives way. 

“I've had enough!” You shout at him. “I refuse to entertain you at the cost of my own dignity any longer, xiansheng! You have done nothing but harass me the entire time I’ve known you and I am done! I’m sorry, but you’ll need to find a new guide for the rest of your stay in Liyue because I refuse to do it even a moment longer.” 

“But I want you.” He shoots right back, surprisingly calm and collected given the intense state of your own emotions which only spiral further out of control at his response. 

The true meaning behind those words was obvious, and you feel the stab of it in startling high definition. Fighting back the sting of tears when a humiliated flush rushes into your cheeks, you glare at him with as much hate and vitriol as you can possibly muster. “I will not fall for it no matter what you say, xiansheng! I’m not stupid! You can have your fun teasing someone else for all I care, but I will not humor it anymore!” 

His eyes widen, brows shooting up in surprise. “Wait - -“ 

You have no interest in hearing what he has to say, quickly turning on your heel so you can march down the alley and out onto the main street again. Consequences be damned. 

Predictably, the shuffle of his boots picks up behind you and it doesn’t take long for him to catch up. The way he can easily keep pace with your hurried strides without even having to try only further annoys you but you pointedly ignore him, keeping your attention locked straight ahead. Maybe he would take the hint and leave you alone if you just pretended like he wasn’t there. 

“Hey, let’s talk, girlie. You don’t really think I was just joking around back there, do you?” When you refuse to dignify that with a response, he breathes out a quiet sigh. “Look, I’m sure I can convince you I’m being sincere if you just give me a chance, but why would you assume something like that to begin with? I haven’t given you any reason not to trust me, have I?” 

You shoot him a quick, flustered look of warning, and, to your horror, he responds with that charming, roguish smile that speaks of confidence and ego. It was clear he thought he could persuade you to his side with enough time and you weren’t so sure he was wrong about that. 

Whipping your attention back around, you desperately scan your surroundings in an attempt to get your bearings straight. You weren’t far from the Northland Bank now. Thank the archons. If you could just make it to the relative safety of its doors, you could dump him off on someone else for the night and beat a hasty retreat with your tail tucked between your legs. It certainly felt like you deserved that much after enduring all this grief from him.  

“It doesn’t matter.” You murmur, more to yourself than to him, but that doesn’t stop Childe from pouncing at the chance to keep going. 

“Sure it does. I think I deserve to know why my cute tour guide feels this way. Is there someone I need to take care of for you?” 

Finally spotting the stairwell that leads up to the bank, you hurry towards it as fast as your legs can carry you. He doggedly keeps at your heels, looming just over your shoulder the whole time, which does absolutely nothing to lessen the fast pumping adrenaline coursing through your system. 

It feels like your heart is lodged somewhere in your throat when you finally reach the foot of the stairs a moment later and, gripping the bannister with a clammy hand, you pause to look back at him. “There’s not. You can stop following me now.”

“We’re headed to the same place, I’m afraid.” He responds easily enough, still smiling that infuriating grin at you. Stamping down the urge to scream at the top of your lungs, you turn to make your way up and the procession of his footsteps trailing behind you quickly follows suit. “Seriously, I don’t mean to pry but - -“

“Yes, you do.” 

He laughs, but just keeps going anyway. “I want to know why you’d be so quick to write me off like that, that’s all. Am I not allowed to want you in my bed or something?” 

You outright choke at that, practically collapsing right then and there on the stairwell, and he positively whoops it up as if you’d just delivered the most hilarious, knee-slapping joke he’s ever heard. Your face feels like it’s on fire now while you wrestle with the urge to slap him again, thinking he more than deserved it, but you didn’t want to tempt fate like that again if you could help it. Or invite any misunderstandings with the Snezhnayan guard on duty, just another flight up and almost directly above you now. It takes every ounce of strength you possess but, at last, you finally manage to hiss over your shoulder, “Maybe I’m just not interested. Did you even consider that?” 

“Ah, ah, that’s not what you said though. If memory serves, I do believe the exact words you used were ‘I won’t fall for it no matter what you say’. You don’t think I was being serious, do you?” 

Teeth clenched, you turn to look back at him again and you’re not at all surprised to find him still grinning like he was having the time of his life. But once again, and just like every other time, his eyes give him away. It seemed that no matter what he did, they would always show an intimate glimpse into his soul and what you see in them now chills you a great deal. There’s an edge to them, a sharpness lurking just beneath the surface like a blade that has been submerged in a tumultuous ocean current. It was no less sharp for all the salt water buffeting against it though. In fact, you got the sense that it would only add to the sting of the wound once it finally cut you — and it would. Eventually. You harbored no doubts about that. 

Evidently seeing your uncertain hesitancy, Childe softens his expression slightly, as much as he was able to, at least, and moves up to stand on the same step as you. Fingers tightening on the bannister, you lean as far back as you can when he bends close to put his nose inches from yours. You’re sure he’s going to kiss you again, and the thought alone is enough to make your cheeks burn red hot in what you try to tell yourself is indignation. But, to your surprise, he merely studies you up close for a long moment before finally putting his head to one side like an inquisitive dog. 

“Let’s continue this discussion inside.” 

“What is there to even talk about?” You grit out. 

“You,” he says it softly, almost like a prayer. “And me.” 

“This isn’t up for debate, xiansheng. I want nothing more to do with you.” 

The corner of his mouth tugs, inching up into a decidedly mischievous smirk. “You say that, but do you really want Nadia to get the wrong idea? I’m sure she can hear us, you know. It’ll look much better if you come inside with me instead of causing a scene out here on the stairs. I don’t know what she might tell Krzysiek but if you cooperate, I can protect you.” 

“Blackmailing is illegal in Liyue …” 

“As it is in Snezhnaya. But the Fatui operate on a somewhat different rule set, and I’d hate to see you get tangled up in this more than you already are. There’s nothing I can do for you if you don’t meet me in the middle, girlie. Let me help you.” 

You search his face for any sign of deceit or falsehoods, desperately looking for even a hint of insincerity that would give you the push you needed to shove him away again. But he is, frustratingly enough, perfectly sincere. Or so he seems to be. And that was the crux of the problem, wasn’t it? In the short time you had known him, he’d consistently maintained that same perfect mask of earnest candor no matter what nonsense came out of his mouth … he was either a very good actor who could put most professionals to shame or he really believed what he was saying. Perhaps even a frustrating combination of the two? 

Either way, you could see that you were once again stuck between a rock and a hard place with him. You were damned if you did and damned if you didn’t. It’s been like this since the very start. 

“Fine.” You relent with a heavy, long suffering sigh. “I will go inside with you but I really don’t care what you have to say, xiansheng. You’ll just be wasting your breath.” 

Evidently that doesn’t bother him one little bit. He’s much too giddy for your liking as he bounds ahead of you, taking the last handful of stairs two at a time so he can reach the landing first. You realize why when, upon coming up after him, you find Childe waiting at the front entrance of the bank with his fingers already wrapped around the door handle, ready to pull it open for you and grant you entry. Same as the night before.  

Surreptitiously glancing at the Snezhnayan woman standing on nighttime guard duty, you’re relieved to find her pretending not to even see either of you standing there. Although she certainly was not on your side in the strictest sense, you still appreciated her discretion. Perhaps if you survived this ordeal, you would treat her to lunch someday as thanks. 

Gathering your resolve before you have a chance to change your mind, you quickly shuffle across the landing, hoping to get inside before he says something incriminating in front of her. The Harbinger looks quite pleased with himself as he pulls the door open and lets you pass through first before following right on your heels. You’re immensely glad to find the lobby all but deserted save the one on duty teller and the older man quietly talking to her about something you can’t quite make out from the entryway. No sign of Krzysiek lurking about in the shadows or any Fatui operatives loitering around. At least that would save you the embarrassment of having an audience to witness the no doubt awkward conversation that was sure to follow. Strangely, that didn’t make you feel any better about being forced to do this, though. 

Discreetly glancing up at the redhead as you make your way across the room together, you contemplatively regard him for a moment. Maybe you could still worm your way out of this situation if you appealed to his ego enough. It was worth a shot, at least. 

“Forgive me, xiansheng. I believe I misspoke earlier.” You murmur, hushed and quiet so that hopefully only he could hear. “I did not mean to insult you or imply that there was some deeper meaning in my rejection. I promise I meant nothing more.” 

“I don’t buy that for one second, girlie.” He says, thankfully matching your conspiratorial volume. “You really think I was just teasing you back there, right? You called it a game, if I remember correctly. Why would you go and think something like that about me, huh?” 

You chew at your bottom lip, weighing the odds. It didn’t exactly look good, no, but neither had the last thirty-six hours. If you gave in now and admitted the real reason for your distrust of his motivations you would simply be putting yourself on the chopping block, inviting further humiliation at his hand, and you weren’t so sure you were ready to admit your own shortcomings like that. But there was no denying his abilities of perception or his quick wit. If you tried to delicately skirt around the subject, would he just try to force your hand? 

So caught up in your own thoughts, debating between the truth or another attempt at deception, you don’t notice him slyly reaching for you until it’s too late. The weight of his hand abruptly squeezing around the plush of your waist nearly startles a squawk out of you, and you choke on it when he pulls you against him. Ignoring your incoherent blubbering, Childe tucks you into his side so he can pull you along even when your legs threaten to give out under you, turning you into deadweight against him. 

All at once you’re bombarded by a million, frantic thoughts as the scent of him envelopes you and drowns out your senses. What if someone were to see the two of you like this? What if they assumed you’d be willing to betray your homeland for this troublesome Snezhnayan man? And what if word of this got back to your mother? You’d be disowned by morning! 

But he pays no mind at all to the shy, flustered stammering going on under your breath as he steers you right past the front desk toward the stairs that are tucked off to the side. You feel faint with disbelief when the teller seems to pointedly keep her attention fixed on the man she’s speaking to and doesn’t even glance up at the spectacle when you pass. A heady rush of relief washes over you but, still, your erratic heartbeat won’t relax as long as you’re in such close proximity with Childe. No matter how good he smelled or how warm his body was, or how firm and invitingly masculine he felt against you, you just couldn’t make peace with it in your mind. 

You try to push away from him, politely at first and then more insistently, but he won’t let you go. Doesn’t even seem to register the weak struggle you’re putting up which leaves you with no choice but to stumble along beside him up the staircase and then down the curved hall. It was either that or risk having him physically drag you. 

“X - xiansheng!” You hiss at him, of course to no avail. 

“Hush. If you’d just tell me what the problem is, I could fix it for you.” He tells you lightly, giving your waist what you think is supposed to be a reassuring pinch. “I promise I’ll do whatever it takes to put your pretty little head at ease, you can count on that.” 

“You could start by knocking that off!” You give him another shove that goes completely unheeded. On one hand you were glad to be away from any potentially prying eyes now that you were up on the second floor, but on the other … you give a frightened jerk when it suddenly occurs to you that he’s leading you right past the row of smaller managerial offices (including your own) and further down the hall. “Wait — where are we going?” 

“Don’t try to change the subject.” He snickers softly. “We’re just gonna’ have a little chat in my office, that’s all. We’ll get to the bottom of this, don’t you worry!”

As if that was your main concern right now! “B - but that’s not your office, xiansheng! That room is for the - -“

“Yes, it belongs to Regrator. I’m well aware, of course, but I’m sure he won’t mind. It’s not like he’s using it right now, is he?” Pulling you up to the door in question, he reaches for the knob. All you can do is watch on in horror as he gives it a twist and the resounding click of the inner mechanism giving way echoes inside the space between your ears. You almost couldn’t believe it. Both his unrepentant audacity and the fact he’d already gained access to the owner's personal office space. 

“But how - -“

“Come on, girlie. Where do you think I slept last night?” 

You’re so dumbfounded by that information you momentarily forget to protest or fight him, and you stumble through the doorway under the ever present guidance of his hand around your middle without even fully realizing it. Only when the door creaks shut behind you do you comprehend the severity of the situation, going ramrod stiff as you dig your heels into the floorboards, but he merely pushes you further in before you can kick up a fight about it. With a sudden burst of adrenaline, you wrench away from him and spin around to find Childe already turning the lock on the door with a resounding clink of metal sliding into place. The way he smiles at you, all bright and cheerful, and innocent, turns your veins to ice. 

“Now fess up. I’ve let you stall long enough, haven’t I?” He takes a step towards you, hands coming up as if to grab hold of you again, and yours fly up to defend yourself. It’s as if he expected as much though, or maybe his reflexes were really just that quick, because he switches gears faster than you can blink. Lacing his fingers through yours before you can properly react, he pulls your arms out to either side and backs you up even further into the room. “Tell me why you think I’m only teasing you. I made sure no one would eavesdrop on us so tell the truth.” 

You jolt when your back hits the stately, imposing desk in the office, a fresh surge of fear racing through you with all the thoughts of what he could do to you like this. But to your immense relief he simply pivots to the side, half turning you to stand in front of it rather than pin you against it like you’d initially thought he would. Still, he won’t let go of your hands where he’s holding them out away from your body and you were clearly trapped in here with him and no way out. Dammit. 

Drawing a slow, stuttering breath to calm your nerves, you decide you’ll just have to be blunt with him. Even if it means humiliating yourself in the process, you couldn’t see any other way out of this. Clearly he wasn’t going to let you slink away with your tail tucked between your legs or let you preserve any of your dignity. Not that it came as a surprise considering who you were dealing with but that doesn’t make it hurt any less. 

“I’m sorry, xiansheng. I just … I know I can’t possibly be to your liking. That is what I meant by not falling for your tricks.” 

“Who said that?” He growls, drawing a quiet whimper out of you. 

“It doesn’t need to be said.” 

“Bullshit. Tell me why it’s so impossible for me to want you.” 

“Because I’m fat.” You say it plainly and without inflection, but softer than a whisper, and his eyes go big in surprise. 

“What’s wrong with that?” 

You hate the way your chest tightens, flushing hot in humiliation. You hadn’t expected the sting to your ego to hurt quite so bad when you knew you were merely stating the truth. Maybe it’s the simple act of saying it out loud that drives the nail home or perhaps it’s the way he’s looking at you as if he couldn’t possibly conceive the issue with it, but the backs of your eyes start to burn all the same. Looking at him like this, in the gloom of the dark office, you start to wonder if it’s so painful precisely because you secretly wanted his interest in you to be real, not feigned. Was there really no greater anguish than having a strong, handsome man flirt with you while knowing you weren’t deserving of any of it? You certainly couldn’t think of anything worse. 

“What’s wrong with it is - is men like you don’t like that. I’m not stupid, xiansheng. There are plenty of women who …” You give your head a shake. “It doesn’t matter. You could do much better than me, and I know that just as well as you do.” 

He relaxes his broad shoulders, chuckling faintly as he pins you with a rueful if not taunting look. “Men like me, huh?”

“T - there’s no reason to deny it.”

“Oh?” Childe’s smile sharpens, showing a brief glimpse of the dangers lurking just beneath the surface. “And what else do you know of men like me? Hm?” 

You whimper softly and he gives your hands a quick squeeze before releasing them in favor of reaching tentatively for your waist again. You simply let him do it this time; half in defeat and just wanting to get this over with, and half under the assumption that he would finally drop the act and recoil in disgust at the soft give under his palms. But that’s not quite what happens. 

On the contrary, he actually looks rather pleased as his large hands comfortably settle around your middle like they belonged there. Possessive, almost. 

“I don’t know who made you believe such nonsense but I’ll happily take a list of names though, if you find the time to jot them down for me. But I’m afraid we don’t all think the same way, cutie. I’ve been daydreaming about having you under me since we met.” 

You suck in a sharp breath, still somehow shocked by the outrageous things that come out of his mouth even now. “But you could have anyone.” It’s little more than a whisper. 

“And like I said, I want you.” 

Swallowing hard, you lift your hands to lightly rest them on his forearms. You can’t decide if you want to push him away or pull him in closer, so you just leave them sitting there for right now. “I don’t understand why though.” 

“I could show you.” 

You don’t know what to say to that. Aren’t even sure if you could respond to it without choking on whatever you may have said, because he was brash and provocative, and more than just a little combative, and you weren’t used to dealing with someone like him. What could you possibly say that wouldn’t make you sound like a stammering ninny?

But he evidently takes your continued silence as his cue to proceed, and he slowly palms his way up your sides until blunt thumbs brush the underside of your breasts. A shudder races down your spine at that much too brief contact and you whimper again, louder this time, when he adjusts his hands to cradle your chest in them. His attention remains locked on your face though, intently observing the way your mouth warbles open as if to let out a tiny, faltering mewl but you stubbornly bite it back. Turning your head so you don’t have to look at him any longer, you raise a hand to cover your mouth when he pushes up, lifting your tits slightly, so he can feel the full brunt of them resting in the curve of his fingers. 

You’re ashamed to realize it felt nice having him paw at you like this, your nipples growing stiff and pointed against the brush of his hands. It makes your stomach curl itself into a tight, pulsing knot that has your knees going weak. Grudgingly, you think it might be okay to let this go on for a little while longer. Hesitantly, you have to accept that perhaps you liked him a bit more than you were willing to admit or let on. 

That mental shift must reflect in your expression though because he suddenly grins at you, all mischief and trouble. 

“These are my favorite.” He tells you softly, almost like he was sharing a precious secret with you. Giving your breasts another slow, kneading squeeze to make you sway slightly on your feet, he bends closer until just a scant few inches remain between you and him. “The bigger the better, don’t you think? What else is a man supposed to rest his head on at night? What else should we suck and lick, and bite on until your milk floods our mouths, hm? You seem to know an awful lot about men, so tell me … what would you have us do if not worship the very fertility you represent?” 

Dragging his hands higher, he lets your breasts bounce back into place under your shirt and he watches with a great deal of interest etched across his face. You have to force your lungs to expand, inhaling painfully slow to try and steady yourself. A very real part of you was still anticipating the pin to fall, for him to realize this game of chicken wasn’t worth it and to finally drop the farce, but that wasn’t happening. You were suddenly finding yourself faced with the very real possibility that he wasn’t just running his mouth with no intention of backing it up. He really did want you. He thought you were attractive — innately drawn to your figure, not put off by it. 

And he would have you, right here and now, if you just gave him the chance. 

Childe reaches for the button on your collar with clear, deliberate intent, giving you ample time to rethink this and tell him to stop. But you let him work the first one loose and then the next, and the next, so on and so forth until your shirt was hanging open down to the waistband of your skirt. He grabs at your middle to ruck it up and possessively pinch at your love handles underneath before finally grabbing onto the hem to untuck it the rest of the way. You’re a little surprised at yourself when you lift your arms to help him get it off, but you start to have second thoughts when the cool air hits the front of your silk chemise. 

Feeling uncertain and exposed, you cross your arms over your chest to hide your stiff nipples from his line of sight. He tsk’s softly as he tosses your shirt somewhere on the desk before taking hold of your wrists, gentle yet firm as he moves them out of the way. You can’t quite bring yourself to look him in the face though, self conscious and afraid of what you might see there, so you glance down at yourself instead. The weight of your breasts under the thin, breezy material is obvious, as are the stiff points sticking out in the center of them. You may as well have not even been wearing anything at all. 

With a quiet sound, he seems to reach the same conclusion. He releases your hands so he can slip his fingers underneath the thin shoulder straps and lift that over your head too. You have a split second of thinking you’ll back out after all, that you’re not prepared to have someone as tall and handsome as him looking at your naked body, but the roiling heat deep in your gut seems to have a differing opinion. The thought of walking away from this and going home to an empty bed brings with it a great deal of distress, so you slowly repeat the same arms up motion as before. 

Childe lets out a breath you hadn’t realized he’d been holding as the silk slips away and your naked breasts are finally bared to him. That gets tossed on the desk too and then his hands are on you again, groping and squeezing at you appreciatively with renewed excitement. “These are gorgeous.” He breathes. 

“Y - you don’t mean that.” You whimper, desperately glancing around the dark room for something to focus on that isn’t him. 

“I do.” He insists, and his lips are suddenly on the crook of your neck, kissing and nipping at the vulnerable skin there between hot, rushed sentiments. “I really do. You have no idea what you’re doing to me right now.” 

You feel well and truly lightheaded when he once again palms your breasts in his hands, lifting their weight the same as before. But this time he allows his thumbs to brush up, and you outright gasp at the first contact to your nipples. The noise he makes in response sounds suspiciously like a growl and it reverberates in your veins, making you shudder against him. He takes his time casually flicking over the stiffened buds for a moment longer before pressing your tits together and leaning back to admire the meaty squish. Abruptly, he lets go and watches the heavy bounce of them before setting his sights on your waist instead. 

“Archons, you’re perfect.” He groans, digging his fingers deep into the cushiony give around your middle. “I want to fold you in half on top of that desk, you know that? How’s that sound? Huh?” 

Your mouth warbles open, cheeks burning up. “Xi - xiansheng - -!”

He stoops down to press his face against your neck, growling again, a little louder this time, and you jolt when he blindly fumbles to grab one of your wrists. With a bit more force than was probably necessary, he drags your fingers to the front of his pants and manually curls them around the weighty bulge there. Your eyes widen in stark surprise, not at the size of him but, rather, at how very hard he is for you. He’s indescribably heavy against your hand, and stiff enough to strain the zipper holding him back. 

“You want this, cutie?” 

Like you really needed to think about it at this point. “I … I do. I want you, xiansheng.” 

Breathing deep the scent of your neck, he lets it out again with a bestial huff that makes goosebumps erupt across your skin. It takes a visible amount of effort for him to unlatch himself from you, reaching to unfasten the single button done up on his jacket. This he carelessly shrugs out of and tosses to the side, eyeing you with a hungry lick of his lips before stepping into you again to take hold of your waist. It doesn’t escape your notice that he seems to be fascinated with this part of you, the way he insists on continuously grabbing and squeezing it in his hands, but you don’t get a chance to comment on it. 

He’s pulling you against him then, all but flattening you against the hard line of his body, and you suck in a sharp, frazzled breath at the press of his cock against your stomach. Never before had you found yourself in this sort of position so you don’t really know what to do, standing there just breathing him in while he yanks at the hidden latch on your skirt. You think you should be doing something, should probably be reciprocating in some way, but your overloaded brain just can’t seem to make sense of it. 

Luckily, he takes care of the decision making for you. Once the band of your skirt is hanging loose around your waist, he lifts his hand to nudge it under your chin and tip your head back. You have but a split second to realize he’s going to kiss you, and then he’s devouring your mouth, kissing you much harder and much more forcefully than he had in the alley. You realize now, as you succumb to the hungry pull of his lips, that he’d only been testing the waters earlier. He was far from normal if that had been his idea of tentative and, evidently, you were just as crazy for entertaining it. 

Greedy hands roam down your body, grabbing tight, pinching handfuls of your sides and your hips before dipping lower still. Childe takes hold of your ass like a starved man grabbing onto a lifeline and you rock forward on your toes with a muffled little squeak. He gladly swallows it down even as he kneads and pinches, rolling the meat of your backside in his palms. It’s just shy of being too much, toeing the line of discomfort, and you blindly reach back to clutch at his powerful wrist. Of course that doesn’t stop him though, and you suck in a much needed lungful of air when he finally pulls back some moments later. 

He doesn’t even give you a chance to catch your breath, quickly swooping down to shimmy your skirt over your hips so you can step out of it. You expect him to go after your garters next so he can get you completely undressed, telling yourself to relax and just breathe while you could, but nothing is ever that simple when it comes to Childe. 

To your squawking surprise, he grabs you around the waist yet again and suddenly hauls you up to perch on the edge of the desk. You can’t even think straight as he bullies your thighs apart with his narrow hips so he can settle between them, pressing himself tight against you. Unable to hold it back any longer with the weight of his cock digging into you and the hard muscle mass of his chest right in your face, you reach up to loop your arms over his shoulders with a needy little mewl. Grunting in approval, he bends at the waist to hunch over you so he can take a nipping bite at your neck and then your ear while his arms snake around you. For as deceptively gangly as they are, the strength in them is staggering and he practically crushes you against him, firmly holding you in place so he can slowly grind up into your core. 

Delirious, you frantically clutch at him when every stilted push of his cock against your panties only seems to highlight how wet you already were for him. That in and of itself would have been inconceivable not even twenty minutes ago, but somehow even worse is how that sedate, repetitive motion of his hips just seems to encourage yet more sticky slick out of your cunt. You can feel it bleeding into your panties, leaving them increasingly damp, and you grimace when they soon start to stick to your labia. 

“Xi - xiansheng! Wait a second …” 

“How do you expect me to wait after all this time, girlie? Huh?” Snarling against your neck, Childe leans further into you and uses his weight to push you back, tipping your pussy towards him. You cling to his shoulders, whimpering and whining low in your throat as he increases the pace, humping into you with even greater enthusiasm than before. “Wanna’ know what’s funny?” He laughs, breathless and hot against the side of your face. “I actually expected you to tell me a completely different answer earlier. You really caught me off guard, you know?” 

Legs quivering around his hips, you dig your nails into his back and tip your head up, gasping at the ceiling. You felt dizzy and hot enough to burn. Was he really going to make you cum, just with this? “Like — ahhn! Like what?” 

Dragging his hands down to grip your plushy hips, Childe shifts against you to look in your face. His eyes were strange and unsettling even now when you felt like you were going to shake right off the desk if he kept digging his cock into you like that, but there was something else in them now … something far removed from the light of day but no less blinding. It was like looking at ice fire — so dark and blue, yet hotter than any normal flame could ever hope to burn. You weren’t sure if you were looking into a vast, bottomless trench under the sea or the very sky itself, so deep and fathomless it would swallow you whole without a trace, never to be seen again, but it doesn’t really seem to matter anymore. You would gladly give yourself over to the void, drown in its oceanic embrace, so long as he kept looking at you like that. 

“Tell me.” You gasp when he doesn’t immediately respond. 

“I thought you were going to tell me I was too young for you.” He suddenly says, surprising you so much you have to do a double take. 

“What?” 

Laughing, he gives his hips one last, lingering roll that has you biting down on your tongue to silence yourself as he unhurriedly moves to extricate himself from you. 

“All that fuss you were making, it was the only thing I could think of. I know you were worried about my title and I probably didn’t help that very much when we parted ways last night … but still, you refused to have me even after I went out of my way to show you I’m just a man. Albeit a supremely powerful one but,” Shrugging as if it didn’t really matter, Childe bends over your lap to start unhooking the clasps holding your stockings up. He’s surprisingly gentle and patient with such a benign task and you let him do it without intervention, even when your pussy clenches at the sight of him half naked and focused on the task of undressing you. “I figured you just didn’t think I was mature enough or something like that. Not that that wasn’t bad enough but I certainly didn’t expect your real reason.”

You start to say his name but catch yourself at the last second. “Xiansheng …” You say instead. “It’s true that I’m older than you but it’s not that big of a difference from my perspective. I don’t think you’re immature. Well, not in that way, at least.” 

“Oh, is that so?” Sending you a slow, mischievous little grin, he slips his fingers into the waistband of your panties and starts to slowly slide them down over your thighs, leaving the garter and stockings in place. “Good to hear it. Because I’m prepared to show you just what I’m capable of, and I have no intention of leaving this room until you understand exactly what kind of man I am.” 

Eyes widening slightly, you watch him pull your underwear free from your ankles so he can carelessly toss them somewhere on the floor. Those big, battle hardened hands slide up your inner thighs and roughly shove them apart so he can swoop down, dragging the flat of his tongue through your wet cunt without so much as a word of warning. You jolt so hard you nearly come right up off the desk, a startled ‘oh!’ bursting out of your mouth. He pays it no mind though, keeping your legs spread wide as he devours you, swirling around your entrance to taste the excessive slick accumulated there before directing his mouth higher to knock against your clit. It’s all you can do not to shriek, chest heaving as you jerk and twist against him. 

“Wait —!” 

Coming up off your cunt with an obnoxiously loud slurp and a smack of his lips, Childe gives a breathless laugh. “There’s no time for that, girlie. Today you’re going to learn how a real man handles a woman like you.” 

With a low, hungry snarl, he dives back in and your hand instinctively shoots down to grab at his hair. He pays it no mind though — in fact, he actually appears to enjoy it. Groaning hotly against your pussy, he presses his cheek to one side so he can batter your clit with his tongue, making your toes tightly curl in their little heels. The sensation is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before; intense and overwhelming, indescribably sticky and wet, and hot, and it doesn’t take long for you to start shaking in earnest. 

Unable to sit up any longer when the tremors threaten to overpower you, you slowly sink back to lay across the top of the desk but he just follows you down. Shuffling closer so he’s bent nearly in two over your cunt, Childe possessively grabs at your thighs so he can toss them over his shoulders and lock you in place. Having your legs up in the air like this is somehow both deeply embarrassing and indescribably arousing at the same time, and you writhe like some mindless beast while he eats you out. Your fingers in his hair start to cramp but you refuse to let him go when it felt like the only thing keeping you grounded to reality anymore. 

You quickly lose the fight though when he slides his hands up your thighs, over the pudge of your belly and higher still to grab your breasts. His long fingers dig in, squeezing them tight enough to hurt before redirecting his attention to your nipples. The way he pinches and rolls them has you arching hard enough to make the desk groan underneath you, legs clenching around his head in an attempt to block him out for even just a moment's reprieve. It’s a losing battle though. He’s as dauntless as ever, and he just keeps working you over with his mouth even when your thighs threaten to crush or suffocate him. 

Blindly, you claw at his wrists and forearms but it is much too late. The scale starts to tip and you feel yourself desperately clinging to the edge, scared of that free fall and what it would mean even as you give your hips one last, pitiful jerk. Just like that, the chord snaps and you plunge into the void, pussy clenching so tight over the course of your orgasm that it actually brings tears to your eyes. Your whole body seems to roil with it, wildly twitching as you choke back your moans until only quiet, gasping mewls manage to escape, but somehow it still isn’t enough. 

You’re not sure when or how it happened, but at some point you’d come to realize that Childe’s mouth on you was perhaps the greatest feeling in the world, and you desperately wanted more of it.  

“Please!” You hiss, blubbering faintly when he starts to untangle himself from you. 

“Well, well,” he taunts, clearly pleased with himself as he straightens up. “I’d say you rather enjoyed that, wouldn’t you? Who would have thought the prim and proper ambassador of the Northland Bank was so needy?” 

Groaning softly in the back of your throat, you cover your face with a still trembling hand and press your thighs together now that he’s not occupying the space between them. You didn’t know whether to beg for more of his attention or cry from embarrassment. Both options seemed perfectly reasonable in this situation, and you finally settle on some combination of the two. 

“I’ve never felt like this before, xiansheng. I'm sorry.” You let out a sound that is half sob, half groan. “My body is on fire but I — I still want you to keep touching me. I don’t really know what I’m doing but I want more. I need more of you.” 

Childe snickers softly, and the sound of him shuffling close again has your heart threatening to jackhammer straight out of your chest. “Aww. Well, when you put it so nicely …” 

His hands find your hips again, giving them a savory squeeze before dragging his palms lower to feel the give of your thighs under his fingers. One long digit slips into the band of a stocking and tugs on it, letting it snap back into place with a quiet smack. He can’t seem to stop pawing at you, kneading along the soft pudge of your inner thigh until broad knuckles brush against your cunt. You shudder at the sensation and lift your head to peer down at him, struggling to keep your voice in check when he presses two fingertips into the meat of your labia and spreads them apart. Sensitive tears sting your eyes as a fresh wave of humiliation crashes over you, threatening to drown you. To be looked at like this was not a feeling you were mentally prepared for but, carefully watching Childe’s face, you’re relieved to find that he doesn’t seem to dislike it. 

In fact, his expression actually pinches with a low, rumbling groan that makes your pussy excitedly clench. His eyes take on a distant, dreamy sort of look, and he bends down to give your cunt another savory lap of his tongue, making you twitch at the contact against your clit. Exhaling slowly, he rises up enough to crowd his finger in and slowly rubs the meaty little nub in faint, barely there circles. You seethe through your teeth, still overwrought so soon after your orgasm, but you quickly relax into it when pleasure rushes in to replace the sensitivity. 

“Such a pretty pussy,” he murmurs, drawing a quiet whimper out of you. “And so receptive, too. I wonder how sensitive it is on the inside …” 

You realize what he’s saying a moment too late, far too gone in the hazy, post-orgasmic bliss to function at your usual level, and you don’t get the chance to protest. The finger on your clit abandons it’s target in favor of a new one, slipping lower to find your entrance and — slide right in. He doesn’t even hesitate. Just a quick, sudden pressure on your interior and he’s inside of you right down to the knuckle and you wheeze, going ramrod stiff on top of the desk. 

“Shit, you’re tight.” 

“I … I’m sorry.” 

Childe sends you a quick look, his mouth already cocking into a smirk, but the expression on your face gives him pause. “What is there to be sorry about, girlie? It is not a bad thing to be tight, you know.” 

“Yes.” You agree, even though you don’t really know what it is you’re agreeing with. “It’s just … I’ve never done this before so I hope it’s not too much trouble.” 

A terse beat passes through the room, completely still and quiet save the hushed sound of bustling nightlife in the near distance. Then it seems to click, and he blinks up at you owlishly. 

“You’re a virgin?” 

“I'm sorry.” You say it again, because it’s the only thing you can think to say. 

A half choked, disbelieving laugh slips out of him and he straightens, looking at you like he’s seeing you for the first time. There’s a new understanding in his eyes now, as if everything suddenly made sense, and you quickly turn your head so you don’t have to see the way he’s sizing you up. You’d glimpsed that predatory hunger in him more than once in the short time you’d known him but had always written it off as a hunger for life and all it had to offer. Excitement and battle, and the driving urge to test his own strength. Now, though, that voracious appetite was not only centered entirely on you but it also seemed to solidify into something tangible. Something far more dangerous than anything you’d seen in him before. He wasn’t merely going to have you, take you, claim you. 

He was going to devour you. 

With a reverberating growl, Childe reaches out to palm at your lower belly and he gives it a tight, pinching squeeze. You whimper faintly in response but that only further encourages him. His opposite hand, the one between your legs, withdraws for but a moment before returning with two fingers this time, and they slide straight up into you with a wet little click. Your guts are so slippery and soft for him that there’s hardly any resistance at all even when your body instinctively tries to clamp down around the intrusion. You can feel the burn of the stretch in a far off, dreamy sort of way, but it does absolutely nothing to dissuade or discourage you. If anything, it almost seems to spur you on. 

He laughs again, low and raspy, when you stutteringly roll your hips and squirm for him, idly giving your stomach another savory pinch. “I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you this,” he says quietly, in such a soft register that you almost miss it over your own gasping breaths. “But I’m probably not the best candidate for someone’s first time. You sure you want to do this, girlie?” 

You think that’s a massive understatement. He was rough and excitable, easily carried away and impatient. Whatever he may have lacked in fine tuned precision was more than made up for in so much puppy-like enthusiasm that it bordered on being too much, and even now you couldn’t ignore how good just his fingers felt inside your pussy. You wanted him perhaps more than you’d ever wanted anything else in your life, and that wasn’t up for debate. But you hesitate to say it, whether for your pride or just the simple fact that you didn’t know how to say it. 

Faintly wheezing, you struggle to sit half upright so you can look at him, for once unconcerned with the heavy weight of your breasts or the crease along your tummy. You simply look at him, as a woman, and he looks at you as a man, primal and starved, practically chomping at the bit to sink his teeth into you. If he was the wolf then did that make you the lamb? 

“You said you would show me …” Hesitating, you quickly swallow down your nerves before they can get the better of you. “Show me how a man handles a woman like me. I’d like to see that, xiansheng.” 

The snarl that comes out of him is more animal than human, and the most frightening one you’ve heard yet. It sets your guts vibrating, heart hammering wildly in your chest with the instinctive urge to flee, to run, to hide — but you couldn’t have even if you’d wanted to. You were already trapped in his clutches, his fangs locked around your sensitive jugular, ready to tear through you and rip you open for him to feast upon. It flashes across his face, settles deep in those strange eyes. The bloodlust. The thrill of the hunt and the subsequent kill. He was the predator and you, his prize. 

You gladly give yourself over to it when he leans down to claim your mouth again, kissing you so hard and so voraciously it steals the air from your lungs. His hand stays busy between your legs, working your cunt open with those long, calloused fingers, while the other one roams over your body. Grabbing at your love handles, your tits, the small of your back where it’s arched up off the desk in silent supplication for more. More of him, more of the pleasure and the threadbare pain that comes with it. More of his fingers, more of his tongue. You wanted all of it, and you plaintively moan into his mouth when he reaches up to palm the back of your neck. Holding you in place like that, he increases the speed and the pressure between your shuddering thighs, and the incessant clicking increases with it. Already an ache was forming deep in your body and you could tell you were going to be sore for days to come but you revel in it, bask in the heightened pleasure of knowing you were his to lay claim to. 

You think you’re starting to get close to another orgasm when he abruptly pulls his fingers out with a wet little pop, and you tear your kissed-raw mouth from his to groan in disappointment. He doesn’t give you a chance to complain though, and you suddenly find yourself shoved down on your back as he crawls up onto the desk with you, pinning you under the sturdy weight of all that lean, hard muscle. Eyes widening slightly at having him over you like this, you reach up to clutch his shoulders hard enough to make the joints ache. Jostling you slightly while he positions himself, Childe issues a heady grunt into the scant space separating you from him and then you feel it. 

The nudge of his cock. The press of the glans against your slit, seeking out the warmth of your body even as he slips over sticky lips and folds. You gasp sharply, mouth hanging open in a silent scream when he finds your entrance, catches and starts to sink in. It was something completely different from the stretch of his fingers, something much more intense, and you give a small jerk against him as tears spring up in your eyes. He is firm and unbudgeable on top of you though, hissing in deeply felt pleasure when you take him. More and more of him, until your eyes start to roll back in your head. 

Twisting back against the desk, you sob up at the ceiling. It feels like you’re being crushed under him, your guts squishing and compressing against the weight of his cock bullying its way into you. He pauses, shifts slightly, and then his large hand is cupping the side of your face. The blunt of his thumb hooks under your jaw and he demandingly angles you towards him so he can kiss you again, muffling the frantic, whimpering moans you let out when he sinks the rest of the way inside. 

With his narrow hips pressed tight to the backs of your thighs, you’re really, truly trapped underneath him now. It’s so hot and heavy between you two that you can barely manage to squirm, weakly shaking and writhing underneath him instead of wildly bucking like you would like to do. You feel frantic and mindless, your neck lolling bonelessly in his hold while the room seems to spin around you at a frankly alarming speed. You’d never felt so full, stuffed to bursting, or drunk on fast pumping endorphins in all your life. 

“Archons above, you feel so damn good.” He rumbles against your cheek, voicing the very sentiment you were trying (and failing) to come to terms with in your own cotton stuffed mind. You weren’t sure if you would ever be able to fully recover from this. Not this intimate meeting of your flushed, sweaty bodies or Childe’s raucous entry into your life. 

Groaning, he starts to move. The stiff flex of his hips is slow at first, drawn out and savory, like he’s merely enjoying the wet heat of you squeezing around him, but it doesn’t last long. He begins picking up the pace in just a matter of moments, driving his pelvis against your harder, faster, until the embarrassingly loud squelch of your cunt sucking him in deep rings on a near endless loop. You lurch underneath him, clawing at his shoulders and back while he relentlessly carves out a space within you, drilling you into the desk with reckless abandon. The creak of the wood barely even registers though when you’re so swept up in the sensation, the mind numbing experience of being fucked senseless by the beast heaving above you. 

He seems almost feral now, and you can feel the ache within you growing with each plunging thrust of his cock as it drives into you again and again, reaching deep inside to knock something that has you seeing stars. It leaves you reeling, dizzy and overwhelmed, but there’s no stopping it now. Childe is like a man possessed and he eagerly ruts into you, losing himself in your pussy, and all you can do anymore is cling to him in high strung desperation. His hands are everywhere at the same time, a blur of pinching squeezes and kneading gropes, but he soon gives up on trying to press you somehow even closer to himself in favor of reaching higher to grip the opposite edge of the desk. He seems to use it as leverage to reinforce the power behind his thrusts, and he slams into you with enough force to nearly send you into a vertigo-inducing free fall. 

“Shit!” He grunts, fanning warm breath across your face as he seeks out your mouth again. “I don’t think I ever want to leave this pussy, you know that?” 

Tipping your head at him, you catch his lips in another searing kiss and he seems to sink further into you, defying all logic and reason when his body moulds so tightly to yours it’s hard to tell where one of you starts and the other begins. It’s like you’ve become one entity, one being — the wolf and his hard won prey joined together until you were one and the same. Sharing the same body, the same mind, and the same pleasure. His appetite only fed into yours and heightened it, and the reverse seemed to be true as well because he moans, low and faltering, when you lock your ankles around his waist to hold him against you. 

He surprises you then, his heaving motions stalling to an almost complete standstill while his tongue intertwines and dances with yours. Unhurriedly exploring your mouth, claiming it as his own, Childe starts to slow fuck you with a grinding roll of his hips. His cock is wedged so deep inside you it feels like he’s poking at your ribs, and you all but sob at the staggered, barely there thrusts that churn your insides and increase the pressure tenfold. It was like you were on the brink of implosion, shuddering so intensely that the desk heaves a sympathetic groanin response. 

And somewhere in the back of your mind you still manage to find the wherewithal to hope the two of you don’t accidentally break it. 

Gradually, he winds you higher and higher until you’re frantically gasping for air, practically hyperventilating even while he keeps kissing you and fucking you like he has all the time in the world to enjoy this. He just might, for all you know, and you didn’t doubt that he would make the time if he didn’t. So incorrigible, so demanding and entitled to your body … as if he thought you were made just for him and maybe you were. Maybe you’d been born just for this purpose and he, the hot headed man from Snezhnaya, was likewise meant to have you in this way. 

You whine low in your throat as the tremors threaten to overpower you and he finally breaks apart from the kiss to groan heavily into the statically charged air. The reverberation seems to bleed into you and trigger a chain reaction that has every nerve ending in your body lighting up one by one, in rapid succession. It floods your system in waves, working lower and lower until it finally hits that tight, aching coil deep in your gut and it instantly snaps. You cum with a shriek, shoving your face into the bend of his sweat dampened neck to smother the sound while you fitfully twist and jerk underneath him. Your pussy spasms, wildly milking his cock, and he moans in response with a faint tremble of his own sweaty, heaving frame. 

Muscles flexing, he rides you through it at that same, sedately steady pace until you at last start to come down from it, chest heaving uncontrollably as you try to catch your breath. You’re lost in it, soaring somewhere far outside your own body, high above the very city itself, but you’re still acutely aware of the way he seethes and grunts when he moves to push up. Lifting your head, you blearily watch him go up on his knees to kneel between your legs, cock glistening in the sparse light coming in through the window even as he takes it in hand. He strokes it, hard and fast, with his heavy lidded eyes alternating between your well used cunt and your face, panting heavily and groaning softly as his shoulders begin to shake. You can tell he must be reaching his limit by the growing strain in his voice, and it seems to finally hit its peak with a keening, borderline whiny whimper that goes straight to your pussy. 

You hadn’t expected him to sound like that, so needy and desperate, and you find it inexplicably arousing. Your body clenches with renewed excitement and you mewl, very quietly, when his hips give one last little jerk and white, creamy ropes shoot out of him to splatter across your stomach. It’s hot and sticky where it settles, and Childe outright snarls at the sight of his cum painting your skin. 

“Xiansheng - -“ 

He doesn’t stop long enough to hear you out or give himself any time to recover before he’s swooping down, hunching over your prone form so he can drag his tongue through the mess he’s made. You give a jolt of surprise, gasping in shock, but the slow look he sends you under the fall of his tousled hair assures you he was capable of much worse than this and he was not your average man no matter how you tried to rationalize it. 

The two of you take a moment to catch your breath, just looking at one another through the gloom and basking in the afterglow. He touches you with idle confidence, like he was already secure in his ownership of your body and didn’t even need to think about it anymore. Emboldened now, you allow yourself to touch him too, feeling across the definition of his chest and arms, his abdominals and hips. Just like before, his energy seems to be bottomless and it doesn’t take very long for his spent cock to start stirring again when your hands were on him like that. 

Shamefully enough, you have him two more times over the course of the long night — once against the side of the desk, standing up so he could grope you to his heart's content, and once on the ornate chaise lounge, tangled up in a mess of limbs — before finally succumbing to exhaustion in the early hours of the morning. Neither of you spoke of what would come next or what it all meant in the long run, but you didn’t really see the need to. 

There was only so much room for negotiations where fate was concerned, after all. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Pausing outside the bank to check that your hair was still in place, you make a valiant effort to smother the butterflies flitting about inside your chest. You were a little nervous, yes, but you try to remind yourself just how silly that actually was. Childe had not only seen you naked already (which was embarrassing enough) but he had also had you multiple times, in multiple positions. Surely you should have been beyond the point of being shy around him after all of that. 

Though that’s easier said than done, of course, and you can’t quite figure out how you’re supposed to behave now. Should you just pretend that nothing had even transpired between you and him? Should you proceed with confidence and surety that he did indeed want you? He’d made that abundantly clear last night so there wasn’t any reason to pretend you didn’t believe him anymore, and you’d likewise had to accept that you wanted him too. But were you allowed to act on it? Archons, they didn’t make manuals for this sort of thing. 

He’d helped you sneak out in the early pre dawn glow when everything was soft and hazy, and you’d recovered just enough to make the walk home. You’d insisted on it, citing that you needed to bathe, among other things, and he had of course tried to convince you to just stay with him before finally conceding defeat. He’d even offered to escort you but you hadn’t wanted to run the risk of being seen together in such a compromising position. Nadia was bad enough even though she’d politely looked the other way when the two of you had emerged from the bank, completely ignoring you both, but anyone else would have been pushing your luck. Or so it seemed, anyway. The situation was just way too strange for you to say with any certainty but you got the distinct feeling that not everyone would be so willing to look the other way on this. Whatever this was.  

Anxiously, you fiddle with the front of your dress to make sure there weren’t any creases or wrinkles in the fabric. This was so stupid. You had no business acting like a lovestruck teenager over someone like him. He would have outright laughed at you if he saw you right now, and that was to say absolutely nothing of the on duty guard sending you odd looks. You were just going to have to get this over with. 

Steeling your resolve, you push through the doors with your head held high, determined to maintain a confident appearance, but it quickly falls away when you find Childe standing in the lobby with the director and about ten other Fatui agents. Your heart immediately sinks. Had something happened? 

“Oh!” Childe notices you right away, and he perks up like an excitable dog. The stormy glower he’d been wearing fades as soon as he lays eyes on you, replaced by that big, boyish grin, and you stand up a little straighter when he shuffles toward you at an unhurried pace. You weren’t sure what was happening here but you couldn’t shake the feeling that it was nothing good. “We were just discussing you, actually. Good timing.”

“Me?” You blurt out, disbelief coloring your voice. 

“Don’t sound so surprised, girlie. Of course it’s nothing bad. Come, stand over here with everyone.” 

You’re so dumbfounded that you don’t even have the presence of mind to act embarrassed about it when he casually slides his arm over your back, steering you towards the small congregation. You frantically search their faces for some kind of answer or clue but you can’t get a read on most of them thanks to their masks. The only one whose face was uncovered was the directors, and you have to do a startled double take at his pallid complexion. He looked like he’d aged ten years since you last saw him! 

“Don’t be nervous.” Childe says, giving you a playful nudge that makes you hope things were not as dire as they seemed. That quaint little notion is immediately quashed, however, when all the good humor drains from him upon turning his attention on the director. “Go on, Krzysiek. Tell her about the letter you received this morning.” 

The older man winces as if he’d been struck, his wild gaze darting from the Harbinger to you and then back again. “Ah. Yes. Yes, of course.” Forcing out a single brittle laugh, he lifts a trembling hand to wipe at his damp forehead. “Lord Regrator sent a very prompt response to my missive. Very prompt indeed. He made it quite clear that the original order had not been signed by mistake and he was well aware how much mora was in question. I’m afraid he isn’t, erm, very pleased with me at the moment but I am working very hard to rectify my mistake at the current time.” 

“And?” Childe prompts, the cold tone of his voice sending chills up your spine. 

“And I fear I owe you an apology,” the director shoots you a harried look. “It was remiss of me to put you in such a vulnerable position. It was not your responsibility nor your place to be in such close proximity with this … ah, particular situation. It was Fatui business and that’s how it should have stayed. Lord Regrator also made that quite clear to me in his letter” 

You have no idea what to say to that. Not that you didn’t agree, because you most certainly did. You’d tried to tell him all of this right after that initial meeting with Childe in the back office but he hadn’t listened, far too determined to foist the problem off on you rather than deal with it himself. But if he’d taken a moment to consider reason and rescind his decision then you wouldn’t have gotten to know Childe the way you now knew him. You wouldn’t have felt his warm hands all over your body or his searing kisses on your neck, and even for as much grief you’d endured because of it you couldn’t be mad at him for it. You were at first, and very much so, but not now. 

“It’s alright.” You finally murmur, turning to glance up at the redhead standing beside you. “Does this mean you’re leaving?” 

You hadn’t meant to sound so sad about that — for all intents and purposes you probably should have been jumping for joy — but his expression softens in as much as it ever does, and he smiles at you again. “For a little while, but I’ll be back. Liyue is a beautiful country and there are plenty more sights to see, people to fight, and things I’d like to do. You haven’t seen the last of me just yet. But in the meantime, Krzysiek here is going to make sure you’re well taken care of for all the trouble we’ve caused you.” 

Your brows shoot straight up to your hairline. What in the world was he talking about? “I’m afraid I don’t understand, xiansheng.”

“Oh, don’t worry your pretty little head. Just think of it like … reimbursement for all your hard work. We had a chat about it and agreed you deserve at least that much.” 

“But — but I can’t possibly - -“ 

“Sure you can!” He cuts across you, as boisterous and pushy as ever. Turning to face you now, he pins you with a mischievous if not challenging look that threatens to turn your knees weak. “You won’t have to work at the bank anymore if you don’t want to. You’re free to quit at any time, and I already made sure there won’t be any retaliation against you if that’s what you choose. You’ll still get your compensation for the rest of your life regardless, so, really, you’re free to make whatever decision you want.” He pauses then, seems to think about it and then quietly adds, “Well, I guess that would be for the rest of Krzysiek’s life, wouldn’t it?” 

The man in question chokes, sounding like he was right on the brink of some massive mental breakdown, but you pay him no mind. You just stare at Childe like he’s grown a second head, trying to make sense of it all. Reimbursement? For life? Did he truly think you wanted or were at all concerned about something like that? 

“Is this really your way of saying goodbye?” 

“Aw, don’t look at me with such a sad face, girlie. I already told you I’d come back, didn’t I?” Gently, he places his hand on your shoulder and you let him guide you away from the gathered Fatui who watch on like silent sentries. You were glad for his foresight in moving you away from them because with each passing moment it was becoming increasingly harder to keep your emotions in check. You didn’t know if you wanted to scream at him or cry. Of course you’d known he’d be leaving soon but so suddenly? And like this? 

You couldn’t think of anything worse to cap off this whirlwind experience. 

Softly shushing you, Childe pulls you towards the far wall and then moves to stand in front of you so he’s blocking the others and all you can see is him. You try very hard to keep the tears at bay, uncertain if they were angry or sad, but they still well up in your eyes and it makes your bottom lip warble. It was perhaps the most humiliating experience yet but he only clicks his tongue, reaching up to cup your cheek. 

“Stop that.” You hiss, trying to turn away from him, but he persists. Unable to take the hint and overbearing even now after everything you’d gone through together just to reach a tentative understanding with one another. All of it gone, in the blink of an eye. 

“Now, now,” he murmurs in a placating tone, at complete odds with the way he grabs your chin and pulls you around to look at him again. “It’s nothing to get so upset over. I told you I want you, didn’t I? Or do you still think I’m only teasing you?” 

You hesitate, eyeing him warily. A moment ago, yes, you’d started to doubt him in the face of this sudden upheaval. You’d expected at least another day with him, another chance to find the courage to ask about his intentions with you, and now there was so much that was going to go left unsaid. But looking in his face and the grim expression you find there, you realize that he really is serious. Not only was he going to come back without fail, he would come back for you. Not the scenery or the city, or for the duties he carried out for his homeland. This was just his way of making sure you were taken care of in the meantime … and you couldn’t exactly fault him for that. 

Finally, you relent. “No, I don’t think that anymore. I believe you.” 

“Good.” Breaking out into a wide, eager grin, Childe leans down to kiss you, hard and fast before you can react or swat him away. You flush red hot, stammering something about the others seeing, but he just laughs it off without concern. “Let them see! You are mine, and some day we will stand on top of the world together, mark my words!” 

You gape at him in disbelief, hardly even daring to believe your own ears, but he only takes advantage of your shock and confusion to grab your face again. Gently cradling your cheeks between both hands now, he looks at you like you’re something precious and worth protecting, crystalline irises dancing with an inner light that was all his. No exterior illumination seemed to be able to pierce that murky, tumultuous void, but this was something else entirely. It made his eyes look like brilliant diamonds refracting an infinite number of prisms that existed nowhere else on the spectrum and this … it was all for you?

Feeling your resolve irreparably shatter, you lean into him and go up on the tips of your toes so you can kiss him. “I’d like to see that, Childe. I hope you keep your promises.” 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Crossposted to AO3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50380030

[cooliogirl101]

(Because I want Reina throwing the canon!verse into chaos)

"Absolutely not. I won't allow it!" Hiashi raged, slamming both hands onto the table.

"Unfortunately, we may have no choice. Konoha cannot afford another war at this moment." The Sandaime sighed, looking every single one of his years at that moment. "Not when we are still recovering from the Kyuubi attack."

"Still, what kind of precedence does this set? That we allow foreign nin to kidnap our children and steal our bloodlines, and yet we are the ones to pay retribution?" Inoichi asked sharply. "You say we cannot afford another war, but surely we also cannot afford to look this weak in front of our enemies."

"What Inoichi said. After what those bloodline-stealing, clouds-for-brains ninja tried to pull? If anything, they should be worried about us declaring war on them," Inuzuka Tsume snarled.

"This move buys us time while we build up strength," Utatane Koharu argued. She shot Hiashi a sharp look. "This wouldn't have been necessary had you the foresight to show a little restraint. I don't know what you were thinking, killing off a high-ranking Kumo nin with diplomatic immunity--"

"He took my daughter--"

"He was evidence--"

"Enough," Hizashi spoke up quietly. "If this will save lives and ensure the safety of the Byakugan, then I am willing. I can think of no more honorable way to serve my village and my clan."

"Try living," a new voice called from outside the doors, a split second before they opened and a vaguely familiar woman walked in. She was startlingly pretty, Hizashi couldn't help but notice-- delicate, almost elvish features, bluish-black hair tied up in a casual twist, deep blue eyes with a hint of mischief within.

Amidst all the ninja stiffening in alarm, Hizashi noticed Uchiha Fugaku letting out a low groan, pinching the bridge of his nose in an uncharacteristic display of emotion.

"Kobayashi-san," the Hokage said, eyeing her with...wariness? What was going on? "This is a classified meeting."

"Yes, you really do need to work on your security seals, Sandaime-sama, they're terribly outdated," she mused. "I do apologize for the intrusion but I admit to feeling rather worried after I overheard this esteemed council seriously consider handing one of Konoha's most valuable dojutsu over to Kumo on a silver platter." She clasped her hands behind her back, offering him a falsely bright smile. "As a tax-paying citizen of Konoha, you'll take my concerns into consideration, I hope."

Across the table, Nara Shikaku snorted at the blatant sarcasm in those words.

"Reina-san--" Fugaku growled. The woman--Reina-- waved at him cheerfully.

"Hi Fugaku-san! Mikoto-chan would like you to pick up some tomatoes on your way back. Sasuke-kun got into the pantry again, so we're out." She shook her head fondly. "That boy, honestly. I don't know what to do with him."

Next to him, Hiashi choked on his spit while most of the room stared at her in disbelief (with the exception of Tsume, who was currently stiffing her laughter behind a fist). With an abrupt start, Hizashi remembered where he'd seen this woman before. It had been a popular topic of gossip the past few days, when the Uchiha Matriarch had, seemingly out of nowhere, struck up a close friendship with a civilian woman who made a living decorating cakes and cookies.

Hizashi glanced at the woman standing calmly in front of them, having effortlessly broken into one of Konoha's most secure buildings, completely unconcerned by being in a room full of Konoha's most powerful and influential ninja.

If she was a civilian, he'd eat his shoes.

"We wouldn't be 'handing the Byakugan over on a silver platter,' girl," Danzo scoffed, narrowing his eyes. "Don't speak of things you don't understand."

"Oh? Because by my understanding, you were planning on sacrificing Hizashi-san's life for his brother's and just hoping the Caged Bird Seal does its job and prevents Kumo from utilizing the Byakuyan," she said sweetly. "The problem with that plan, of course, is that the Caged Bird Seal is an absolute atrocity and an embarrassment to fuuinjutsu, designed by someone who cared more about enslaving his family members than actually protecting his bloodline."

"The Caged Bird Seal is infallible," Hizashi interjected before he could stop himself, voice hoarse. It was infallible because it had to be-- because if it could fail, then his and his son's suffering meant nothing.

An unreadable expression crossed her face.

"Is it?" She asked softly. "Why don't you ask your son that?"

She turned towards the door.

"Neji-kun, come inside for a moment, will you?"

His son walked inside, forehead bare as the day he was born, and Hizashi's world shattered.

~~

"How? How did you remove the Caged Bird Seal?!"

"What, like it's hard?"

~~

"So you've proven that the Caged Bird Seal can be removed," Danzo glared at her. "That does not solve our problem; in fact, it worsens it."

"Danzo is right," the Sandaime agreed. "Kumo will still demand payment in blood and--"

"No, they won't." Reina tilted her head to the side. "Oh, I probably should have started with that. Yeah, they retracted their demand for Hyuuga-san's life, and send along their most sincere apologies for what happened, and their most sincere assurances that they had no idea their head ninja was planning such a thing, blah, blah, blah. You're welcome."

There was a long silence. It was the first time Hizashi had ever seen Sarutobi Hiruzen speechless. He probably would have enjoyed it more had he not been so focused on keeping his own mouth from dropping open.

"Um, excuse me. What?" Inoichi asked, sounding as gobsmacked as Hizashi felt.

"How the hell did you manage that?" Tsume exploded.

"Passed along a message?" Reina shrugged. "Although to be honest, it wasn't so much the content of the message as much as the method of delivery."

"Reina-san," Fugaku said, voice low and laced with dread. "What did you do?"

She grinned, twirling around a very familiar looking kunai-- one that Konoha hadn't seen in a very long time. Next to him, Hiashi drew in a sharp breath.

"Did you know A has one of these just lying around in his office? Probably in an attempt to deconstruct it. But oh man, you should have seen his face when I popped in!" She laughed. "Or should I say, flashed in. Never seen a man turn white so quickly! That was totally worth the motion sickness."

Kumo, after Reina breaks into their Kage’s office with an S-Class jutsu that was thought extinct but still gives like half the ninja world PTSD: I’m sorry Konoha, I wasn’t familiar with your game

(In Reina's world, there's like half a dozen people who know the Hiraishin, although obviously Minato's the best at it. Reina learned because after what happened with Obito and Rin, she wanted a way to teleport instantly to her precious people in order to provide emergency medical care (she also was on standby while Minato was developing it, just in case of any teleporting mishaps/he ended up needing any limbs reattached). She doesn't use it for combat though and dislikes using the jutsu as it gives her motion sickness. Kushina also technically knows it but doesn't have the chakra control to use it effectively. Kakashi and Orochimaru also know how to use it, and Minato plans on teaching Naruto one day as well. Which is a sharp contrast to the canon world, where the number is like zero).

[zunairaghazalsultan]

Once Upon a Lifetime

Summary: SasuSaku! RoyalAU. Sakura wins the raffle to become Sasuke's queen - but will she ever win the raffle to his heart?

A/N: Years and years ago, I read The Conspiracy by miko-chan (does she still exist here?), and I've always had this plot bunny in my mind about this AU. Today, after years and years I feel full and inspired enough to have begun writing it. As with all things I put to paper, it became much more dramatic than I had intended (which was a rom-com), but I hope you like it as much as I do.

-

CHAPTER 1

The palace halls of Nippon Koku had grown quiet in recent months, a far cry from the bustling, vibrant energy they once held under King Itachi Uchiha. Itachi had always been a symbol of peace and stability, a king beloved by the people for his kindness and wisdom. His reign was marked by prosperity, his presence a constant reassurance that the kingdom was in capable hands. He often walked amongst the people, speaking with them, learning their stories, ensuring that they knew their voices were heard. He ruled with a grace that felt innate, as though he had been born for the crown.

But the sickness changed everything.

It began as fatigue, something small that Itachi dismissed for months. But as his health deteriorated, the palace’s publicists worked tirelessly to cover for his absence, feeding the public narratives of his diplomatic missions or strategic retreats. Yet the truth couldn’t be hidden forever. Itachi’s illness—cancer—soon became too severe to mask. His once-vibrant energy was drained by the endless treatments, leaving him pale and frail, a shadow of the king he once was. When the official announcement of his condition was made, it devastated the kingdom. The people mourned the idea of losing a king they had loved so deeply. But even more shocking was the revelation that Itachi would step down permanently. The throne would pass to his younger brother, Sasuke Uchiha.

Sasuke had never been a public figure. While Itachi was warm and approachable, Sasuke was distant, cold, and often appeared angry or solemn in public. Few saw him beyond his stoic exterior, and fewer still believed he could ever fill his brother's shoes. Where Itachi was loved, Sasuke was feared. And fear, as the Uchiha family well knew, could only take a king so far.

Still, Sasuke had prepared for this moment in his own way. Though reluctant to take the throne, he had always been a strategist at heart, one who picked his allies carefully. Before the crown fell on his head, Sasuke had curated his circle with meticulous precision. His personal assistant, Neji Hyūga, was among his most trusted. The Hyūga family, one of the most powerful noble houses in the kingdom, had long held influence in matters of governance and diplomacy. Neji, with his stoic demeanor and unparalleled intellect, was a key asset to Sasuke. While his outward appearance was calm, his mind was always analyzing, calculating, ready to provide counsel at a moment’s notice. His presence was quiet but powerful, a figure of silent authority who moved through the palace with an unspoken grace.

Sasuke had also selected Shikamaru Nara as his publicist. While the Nara family wasn’t as politically powerful as the Hyūgas, Shikamaru’s intellect was unmatched. Known for his laziness on the surface, those who truly understood Shikamaru knew that his mind worked faster than anyone else’s. He saw moves before they were even conceived. Sasuke had chosen him not just for his intelligence, but for his ability to manipulate narratives—to craft the kind of public image that Sasuke sorely needed. It was Shikamaru’s job to turn the kingdom’s doubt into trust, to make the people believe that Sasuke, like his brother, was their rightful king.

And now, in the conference room of the Uchiha Palace, that task had reached its most controversial proposal yet.

-

The Uchiha council chamber was filled with the murmurs of discontent. Seated around a long mahogany table were the highest-ranking members of the kingdom’s council, ministers, advisors, and the royal family themselves. The polished elegance of the room, with its tall windows and golden drapes, did little to quell the rising tension.

Nippon Koku, one of the most influential kingdoms in the modern world, was a unique blend of tradition and progress. While its monarchy was centuries old, the state also had a powerful parliamentary system, where elected officials played a crucial role in governance. But when it came to the most significant decisions—especially those involving the royal family—the monarchy’s word was still law. The kingdom’s strength came from its strategic trade position, a dominating influence in technology, rare minerals, and military advancements, which had propelled it to one of the top economic powers in the world. Nippon Koku’s wealth was born from a combination of traditional industries and modern trade routes that connected it with every major continent. It thrived on global commerce, naval power, and technological innovation, making it a hub for diplomacy and commerce alike.

And now, the fate of that kingdom was being debated in a room divided by uncertainty.

The debate had been raging for over an hour, with Fugaku Uchiha leading the opposition. Sasuke sat quietly, his hands folded in front of him, watching as voices were raised, tempers flared, and objections poured in from every corner of the table. His calm exterior hid the storm within.

“This proposal is outrageous,” one of the ministers, an elderly man with a greying beard, barked. “We cannot afford to tarnish the royal family’s prestige by choosing a commoner as the future queen. What would the rest of the world think of us?”

“It’s a reckless idea,” another chimed in. “We are already struggling with public sentiment since the announcement of Itachi’s illness. Do you really believe a raffle will strengthen the monarchy?”

Shikamaru, who had been lounging in his chair, let out a quiet sigh, his sharp gaze sweeping across the room. “It’s not about prestige,” he said, his voice cutting through the noise. “It’s about survival. The people aren’t questioning the monarchy because of tradition—they’re questioning it because Sasuke hasn’t connected with them. This raffle would be a bridge between him and the people. It shows them that the king is willing to step down from the pedestal.”

Before anyone could respond, the doors to the chamber swung open, and in strode the Prime Minister of Nippon Koku—Naruto Uzumaki. His entrance was anything but subtle, his vibrant energy seeming to fill the room. Dressed in formal robes, but with a brightness in his eyes that never seemed to dull, Naruto radiated confidence.

“Alright, alright! What’s all this noise about?” Naruto said, his voice booming across the chamber with a mixture of humor and authority. “I can hear you guys arguing from the other side of the palace.” He looked around the room, taking stock of the tension before focusing on Sasuke. “You look like you could use some backup.”

Fugaku’s stern gaze met Naruto’s. “Prime Minister, you surely understand the implications of this proposal. A raffle for a commoner bride? How can we expect the people or the international community to respect such a spectacle?”

Naruto tilted his head, considering the words for a moment before a slow smile spread across his face. “Respect? We’re talking about more than respect, Fugaku-san. We’re talking about trust. And if there’s one thing I know about Sasuke,” he said, glancing at his childhood friend, “it’s that he’s willing to do whatever it takes to make sure this kingdom stays strong. Even if it means breaking tradition.”

Fugaku opened his mouth to protest, but Naruto raised his hand, cutting him off. “The people need to see that Sasuke isn’t just sitting on a throne, hiding behind the palace walls. They need to know he’s willing to make tough decisions for their sake. And let’s be real—the world is watching. They’re watching to see if we’re stuck in the past or if we’re ready to lead the future.”

Naruto took a seat next to Sasuke, giving him a playful nudge on the shoulder. “Besides, don’t you think it would be kind of cool to show that the future queen of Nippon Koku could be one of the people? It sends a message—a strong one. We’re not an old-fashioned monarchy anymore. We’re adaptable. And when we say we value the people, we mean it.”

Fugaku’s eyes narrowed. “You’re saying we should let anyone, just anyone, be considered as the next queen?”

Shikamaru leaned forward, his voice sharp. “No, we’re saying we control the process. It’s not just anyone. It’s anyone who passes a set of strict criteria—a vetting process. Clean medical history, education, intelligence. The people get to think it’s a raffle, but we’re the ones who decide who makes it through. It’s a win-win.”

Naruto grinned. “And let’s not forget, we’re going to have to bring Sasuke back into the spotlight. People haven’t seen much of him. This whole process—interacting with the people, going through the motions of the raffle—puts him front and center. The people will see their king again, and this time, they’ll start to understand him.”

There was a quiet murmur in the room, as the council processed Naruto’s words. The Prime Minister’s vibrant charisma and political savvy had always made him a formidable ally to Sasuke, and despite their opposition, the ministers couldn’t deny that there was a certain appeal to the idea. The kingdom needed unity, and perhaps this was the unconventional answer they hadn’t anticipated.

Neji, who had been standing quietly to the side throughout the entire exchange, finally spoke. His voice was calm, steady, and as always, carried weight. “This plan isn’t without risks, but it addresses a deeper issue. The kingdom is vulnerable right now. This initiative would buy us time. Time to heal the people’s trust, time for Sasuke to establish his rule.”

His words, though few, echoed in the chamber. Even Fugaku seemed to consider them more carefully, his sharp gaze shifting between Sasuke, Naruto, and Neji.

All eyes turned to Sasuke. He had listened in silence, his sharp mind absorbing every word, every argument. Now, his gaze was fixed on his father.

“We’re not running a kingdom on tradition alone anymore,” Sasuke said, his voice low but firm. “The world has changed. We’re a global power because we adapt, because we know how to control the narrative. And right now, that’s what we need. Control.”

He turned his gaze to the entire council, his dark eyes cold and calculating. “Shikamaru’s plan gives us that control. We’ll make the people feel part of the process, while ensuring that we get exactly the bride we need. The world will see us as strong, progressive. We’re not stuck in the past, but we don’t compromise on what matters.”

Finally, Sasuke gave a small, sharp nod. “Run the raffle. But we do it our way.”

The decision hung in the air, final and unchallengeable. The council fell silent, knowing that Sasuke’s word was now law. Naruto leaned back with a satisfied grin, while Shikamaru gave a subtle smirk of approval.

The future of Nippon Koku had just taken an unexpected turn.

[clare-875]

Until The End (Levi x Reader)- Chapter 28

[Forever and Always]

_____ A/N: Posted on Wattpad (@CLARE_875) but also decided to post here :)

Summary: "You can push me away, but I will still fight by you, and I will still follow you… until the end."

The ever-so-stoic Levi Ackerman has only ever known the terrors that living in a cruel world could bring. This all changed one fateful day when he encountered [y/n]; a girl renowned for her looks and abnormal speed. As they escape the confines of the Underground together, they soon discover that freedom doesn't come easy in a world full of Titans. As they rise through the ranks, [y/n] becomes known as "Humanity's Angel", a beacon of hope to humanity as she melts the walls Levi had built around his heart. However, she has her secrets too, and a dark past that might just threaten to pull them apart.

The storyline and characters of Attack on Titan do NOT belong to me, but all to Hajime Isayama; however, I do own this story, and all that occurs disparate to that storyline.

[Series Masterlist] [Chapter Twenty-Seven] <--> [Chapter Twenty-Nine] _____

[One year later]

One year had passed since you and the Anti-Marleyan Volunteers arrived back in Paradis. The people within the walls had slowly but surely accepted the information and resources the Volunteers provided. Meanwhile, the Marleyan soldiers onboard ships that had arrived in Paradis had been captured and restrained to cells. However, even some of them had started to see the humanity in those they called the "Island Devils," to the point where the engineers had offered help to us, along with others who provided more support. Even, Niccolo, the man who had been held hostage by Hange when you first arrived, had become a chef introducing foods like seafood to the Scouts, much to the delight of Sasha. Thanks to the combined efforts and knowledge of the Marleyans, the port in Paradis was rebuilt swiftly and powerful innovations such as the guns brought to Paradis had been incorporated into the Scout's training.

Now you sat in between Levi and Hange, surrounded by squad members and those in the Garrison and Military police, opposite your newfound guests. You had all just welcomed Paradis's first outside visitor with the completion of the port. Paradis Island's sole friendly nation, Hizuru, and its Special Envoy, Kiyomizu Azumabito. Earlier, it was found that Mikasa was actually a descendant of the son of the Shogun the Azumabitos had descended from. He had been on friendly terms with King Fritz and often went to Paradis, but after the Great Titan War the nation of Hizuru had been defeated and in disarray, the child of the Shogunate was left behind on the island. Mikasa was the lost descendant of their nation's ruler, the hope of Hizuru according to the woman, Kiyomizu.

"It's a historic day for both our nations," Kiyomizu speaks up from opposite the table looking to you all. "Today is only possible thanks to the one who brought us together, Zeke Jaeger. After meeting with him in secret we agreed to an arrangement under the condition we were able to meet Lady Mikasa." There is a slight pause as the woman maintains an unlikeable expression, a forced smile before she continues. "Zeke Jaeger said if we cooperate with him, our nation may just helm an industry that restores it to its former glory. And yet, he hasn't even prospected your reserves. But a resource like that in this age of modernization would be worth its weight in jewels and treasure." You watch as she swipes her tongue on her lower lip and feel yourself frown.

So that was what they were after, the Iceburst Stone the Survey Corps use to fuel your ODM gear, a resource worth an abundance of wealth it seems. You remember Yelena's words from earlier, she had said the talk would go well since the Azumabitos are money grubbers, but you never expected the blatant display of greed before you. But you also weren't surprised. Unless money was involved, there was not much worth the risk of travelling to Paradis Island. "And? What exactly is the arrangement you have with Zeke Jaeger?" Historia speaks up from the head of the table, eyeing the woman carefully. "As you know, Zeke Jaeger has a secret plan in mind," Kiyomizu says in reply as you feel your stomach churn at the mention of his "oh-so-secret plan".

"To achieve it, Hizuru's cooperation is needed," Kiyomizu continues, before providing us with several papers as Hange passes them between us. "Here are his three points to protect Paradis from the rumbling. The first is a test run of the rumbling, to release a sample of its power and show the world its devastation. Next is Hizuru's cooperation. Your military must be strengthened until the use of the rumbling isn't necessary. Lastly, the Founding Titan and a Titan with royal blood must be passed down. That's the third point." You freeze at the final point looking at the page with trembling hands. "Zeke will pass on the Beast Titan to someone of royal blood. Until their 13-year term ends, they must bear as many kids as possible." You suddenly feel ill at the prospect.

Meanwhile, Hange is in a spur of thought as they read and listen to the demands made. Even if weaponry advances, the rumbling itself is powerful. Until we get rid of it, inheriting Titans will continue for generations to come. Is it right for us to push this problem on our descendants to save ourselves now? Of course not... But... Hange's train of thought is interrupted as Historia speaks up once more. "Very well. I will inherit the Beast Titan." You quickly interrupt not liking the way the grim faces look to her as though relenting that this is the only solution to our state of war. "Wait Historia, if they need someone of royal blood you know I-" But you're cut off by Historia's voice again as Levi tenses at the implication behind your words. "No, Captain [y/n]. Though you indeed have royal blood, you are also a [l/n]. We still don't know what the consequences will be if you were to transform into a Titan. No, it is too delicate to experiment in that manner... I will inherit the Beast Titan... As long as the rumbling is tied to our survival."

You are about to voice a retort once again, if this were to happen Historia would be dealt such a short life and only be made to birth children for the most of it. If you could save her from that fate, you would do anything, even take her place. Levi tries discreetly to meet your gaze sharply as though pleading with you to stay silent. Zeke... what were you planning? But you are ultimately unable to say or do anything as Eren rises to his feet. "Historia... After years of getting trampled on, now we've gotta breed like livestock? If that's the price of getting to live, Zeke Jaeger can take his damn plan and shove it!" Eren's face contorts in his anger as the rest of us look at him, some in surprise, some silently praying he would just sit back down. "It's too dangerous to gamble on having the rumbling. We need to spend our time exploring what other options are available to us."

That was the end of the meeting, to say the least. Kiyomizu was of course deterred by the emerald-eyed man, though he helped to prevent an imminent fate for Historia. However, in the aftermath Eren had continued to spill words in his irritation that made you see that he would likely not ever use Historia, or even you. It made you think back to your abduction. Zeke shouldn’t have feared Eren finding out about your heritage or the blood that flowed through you. Not when he seemed so adamant on not “using” his allies. He seemed more distant these days, as though his eyes were locked on another goal none of us could see.

.....

[Several Months Later]

You were atop [h/n] galloping into the empty fields that surrounded you. You remember the joy you had felt when you saw her again. Levi told you he had put it upon himself to look after her along with his horse, but she had seemed to be in a state of constant depression, barely letting anyone but him brush her or take her out of the stables. In the instant she saw you she had stood on her hooves almost trampling you over. You had to steady and calm her down before holding her into an embrace. She had missed you and you had missed her. You let out a breathless laugh as you observe the clear landscape before you. You were within Wall Maria, gifted with a rare day off and so you took the opportunity to take [h/n] out for a ride among the forests within the walls. You felt a sense of freedom in the open grasslands looking to the sky and patting your horse gently as she turned and neighed happily.

You suddenly hear the gallop of a horse approaching as you turn and smile at a familiar sight. It was Levi, atop his black stallion and approaching you. He was in his casual clothes, a loose long-sleeve shirt and a pair of dark pants. You couldn't help but admire him, even from a distance. "Took you long enough, Levi, I thought you weren't coming," you tease as you turn fully to face him as he slows approaching you. He is about to retort but takes a moment to gaze at your figure. You were in casual clothes as well, clad in flowy pants and a tight-fitted top, a flower pinned on your ear against your [h/c] hair. You watch as he stays silent before letting out a little laugh and waving a free hand in front of his face. "Earth to Levi?" you say, still in a teasing tone, as he finally breaks free of whatever trance he is in.

He looks at your smile and he can't help the soft look from brimming in his eyes as he meets yours, before he turns his horse in the direction of a nearby forest. "Come on, I want to show you something," he says as you raise your eyebrows curiously, Levi not really being one to be spontaneous. You follow him quietly before pulling [h/n] to his side, the both of you leading your horses upon the trail. "What's this, a surprise?" you ask, a smile evident in your voice. "Tch," Levi hides his face as he looks to the side, "just shut up and follow." You let out a laugh rolling your eyes as the both of you continue, silently admiring the beauty of the tranquil trees, and embracing the fleeting but serene feeling of peace.

Your voices mingle as birds chirp up ahead talking and laughing about the events of the day and the antics of the squad. You purposely left out darker more worrisome topics for another day; just pretending everything was normal for once. And Levi imagined it, that it was a normal day and the two of you lived normal lives, and he was just taking his beautiful partner on a date like a normal couple would, just for the day. He admired the way you were talking rapidly about Sasha, how you both had an eating contest the other day, and despite your speed she had beaten you somehow. You talk about how you had helped Mikasa with her skills with the gun and sparred with her, your speed and her Ackerman strength making it quite the exciting battle; you've grown fond of the young woman.

You talk about Hange and Armin and the new train tracks they were building throughout Paradis; it was hard to contain their excitement over the project these days. You talked about how you had gone with Jean and Connie to meet people from Hizuru who had brought you more supplies the other day, then how the three of you had gone to the markets and had a fun day exploring what was to offer. Levi simply smiled softly as he became enveloped in the joy you emitted, watching the way your hair glistened under the afternoon sun, admiring the way your eyes lit up. You suddenly stop rambling, watching the way Levi's eyes watch your figure, heat rising in your cheeks. "Ah, sorry, was I talking too much?" You ask as Levi shakes his head observing your sudden shyness with amusement. "Come on," he says before dismounting his horse and lending you a hand as you get off yours, securing them to nearby trees. "It's not far now."

Levi pulls back branches as you now follow him on foot, the two of you walking for only a few minutes before Levi stops and puts your hand in his, pulling you into an opening among the trees. You stop and look up, staring in shock. It was a meadow of flowers, bright and colourful, swaying in the breeze. It's one of the most beautiful sights you have ever seen. It was like an enchanting oasis lulling like waves, accompanied by the peaceful rustle of the breeze. It was like a haven of peace in a treacherous world. "This was one of my favourite places to go before the shitty Titans broke through the walls," Levi speaks up from next to you as you look at him, warm rays of light shining on his face as he has a nostalgic look in his eyes. "Glad to see the damn things didn't trample everything."

You smile as you walk forward carefully making your way through the meadow as Levi follows you. "So, this is where you used to disappear to," you say looking over your shoulder and remembering the times he was sometimes nowhere to be found after a rough mission, especially in the earlier years of you both being Scouts. He nods silently as you both find yourself in the middle of the small but beautiful sanctuary. You turn to him fully now as you caress his face gently, before kissing his cheek. "Thank you for showing me this." You see a slight pink hue rise in his cheeks as he mumbles something in irritation, only causing you to smile at the sight once again.

The rest of the afternoon consists of the two of you bringing out a blanket that was strapped to your horse, sitting on it and talking in the meadow. You had also packed some things from a nearby bakery, along with a tumbler full of warm tea you'd prepared. You make flower crowns, silently weaving flowers and putting one on Levi's head, laughing at the juxtaposition of his dark expression under such an adorable sight. You sip your tea and eat your baked goods in the sereness of the little oasis, joyful and content in the presence of each other. You both lie down and look at the sky, reminiscing of the past when you would lie down on the rooves of the Underground, only met with the confines that held you there. Time passes and the sun slowly starts to go down, but just before the sun sets and just as the sky starts to take on an orange hue, Levi speaks up from next to you, a rare hint of nerves evident in his voice.

"[y/n]..."

You had been sitting and gazing at the sky, marvelling at the way the clouds merged and escaped from each other, content in the silence. At Levi's words, however, you turn to your right, only for your eyes to widen and your heart to hammer erratically against your chest. You see Levi, your beloved, on one knee and looking at you, a wild blush on his cheeks. Your eyes enlarge at his stance and the small black box in his hand, which he slowly starts open, revealing its contents to you. The ring was beautiful. A delicate band, with a precious diamond in the middle of it, small blue sapphires on either side. "It was my mother’s..." Levi says softly, as he looks to your quiet and shocked face. "We never sold it, no matter how rough it got. She said to give it to someone when I feel loved, and I feel the same love in return... I never believed in such superficial things... until you."

Tears start to brim in your eyes, as Levi feels his heart quicken at the sight. "[y/n]... you know I'm not good with these shitty words, and I know I'm not good at showing you my shitty emotions sometimes... but I know I love you. I know I'll spend every day of my life fighting for you, protecting you, and making sure you understand that." He gazes at you as your tears slowly start to escape your eyes. Levi's face is determined. "I feel like I've loved you all my life... ever since I saw you that day, ever since you handed me that apple in the streets, I knew. Please, will you give me the honour, of being mine… so I can love you, until the end?" His eyes gleam under the setting light of the sun. The flowers wave and dance in the wind, and the peaceful silence takes over as you look at the man in front of you. He fights to keep his emotions at bay, adoration etched on every feature of his face, just like yours.

You can't help it when you jump into his arms, embracing his warmth and scent in your joy and nodding before pulling away. "Yes, Levi," you say, faces inches apart, ring clutched in one hand as he holds you with the other. "Yes." You watch as his face upturns into the most brilliant smile you have ever seen, the sky painting beautiful colours as the sun slowly starts to set. He leans forward bringing you close as he kisses you passionately and so lovingly, you returning the kiss with as much fervour as you can, hearts thrumming. When he pulls away, he goes to remove the ring from the box in his grasp and he lifts your left hand in his. He then, pushes the beautiful ring onto your ring finger, lifting your hand and kissing it softly. You feel the heat rise to your cheeks at his motions as he looks up to you and pulls you in for another kiss.

.....

When the day of your wedding comes, it is short, simple and sweet.

You are adorned in a simple but beautiful white dress, flowers embellishing your hair, and the light from the warm sun seems to envelop your glowing form, making you look like an enchanted goddess. Levi wore a black suit and tie, hands trembling with nerves, his dark eyes showing a rare glimpse of his vulnerability to the limited guests present. Only Hange, your squad members, Historia, and funnily, your two horses are present in the small but beautifully decorated meadow where you are to be wed. When you walk down the aisle, you only see the utter awe on Levi's face at your ethereal beauty; he could watch you forever as you approach him in the quiet of the secluded forests. You are gorgeous, radiant, and the embodiment of all that brings him joy; you look like an angel.

The Squad members you pass also look at you in utter wonderment as the sun reflects your white dress and flickers on the petals of the flowers in your hair, providing a halo of light that surrounds you. Though some of them watched in slight sadness at the sight of the most beautiful woman being vowed to another man, they were mostly filled with utter joy. They had never seen Captain Levi in a state of such utter happiness, nor had they seen him so content, the usually serious and dark glare of his features lost in your presence. It had not only been today. They had noticed from the beginning, how you being by Levi's side brought out a gentleness and softness they could never have thought to see from the man. They had also seen your comfort in Levi's presence. He obviously provided you a sense of safety and they saw the utter bliss on your features whenever you talk quietly and pretend to be the only two people in the world; the two of you were truly made for the other.

Levi reaches out a hand to you and you smile at his gesture, letting him pull you gently towards him. Your wide grin is untameable and you see the gentle smile on the man in front of you; the man you adore with every ounce of your heart. Hange now speaks, as they stand next to the both of you. You had asked them to officiate your small wedding, and despite their initial loss of composure in their utter excitement and joy, they now had a serene expression on their face as they spoke their introductory words. They were content too to see their two best friends finally married. It had been torture seeing what your absence had done to Levi, it had been obvious the love the both of you had shared, even before Hange had met you. It was blissful to have such a pleasant occasion amongst the uncertainty in the world, because your love was certain, and so was his.

Hange now swiftly moves on to the vows, which had been kept simple as you and Levi preferred to keep truer declarations of love private and to yourselves. "Do you Levi, take [y/n] to be your lawfully wedded wife, to love her and to honour her, in sickness and in health, until the end?" Levi looks to you, the woman he has loved for all this time, now in front of him, waiting to be bound in the love you both shared. You give him everything a man could ever need. You know all the right words to say when he needs to hear them. You know every crease on his face and every emotion written in his eyes. You are everything to him. He meets your gaze, emotions rising as he tries to stifle them, before softly saying, "I do." He then slips his mother's ring, now onto your right hand.

Hange smiles at the sight, feeling their tears brim their eyes before they continue. "Do you [y/n], take Levi to be your lawfully wedded husband, to love him and honour him, in sickness and in health, until the end?" You look at the man in front of you, silent tears pouring from your eyes. This was the man who saved you so long ago, the man who continues to save you every day without him even knowing. He gives you hope, comfort, safety, love... all you could ever need. You watch his loving eyes look at you as you nod your head, "I do." You slip on Levi's ring on his finger, it is a simple band with a strip of crushed blue sapphires to match your ring.

"By the authority vested in me, as the Commander of the Scout Regiment, I now pronounce you husband and wife." You see Levi's eyes filled with utter joy before he turns to the squad members looking on in anticipation with a glare. You laugh at his attempts to divert their attention, some of them, namely Eren, Armin, Connie and Jean, actually turning away. You roll your eyes but quickly pull him in by his suit as he caresses the back of your head gently, meeting in a brief but loving kiss before pulling apart. When you do, the both of you look at the other in silent but obvious happiness. You were married. The cheers of the squad reach the air as Hange starts leaping in their joy, your horses looking at you all confusedly. The wind flows against your beautiful dress and Levi squeezes your hand softly; it was a perfect day.

.....

When you all returned to Scout headquarters many approached you in congratulations much to Levi’s irritation, but every glance at you made him forget any of the annoyance he felt as more people came to you. As time passed and the sun was lost to the horizon, and after the Scouts had enjoyed a feast, just for the occasion, Levi finally led you to your shared chambers. The perfect day ended with a perfect night, the both of you finally having a moment alone. Neither you nor Levi can keep your hands off the other. It starts with a feverish kiss that turns into so much more; you both love each other and embrace each other until the day brings the morrow to you. 

_____

[Chapter Twenty-Seven] <--> [Chapter Twenty-Nine]

Tags: @batboygirlie

[shiorihyugawrites]

Diamond Of The First Water

In the aftermath of war, Paradis finds itself in need of powerful alliances. When Emperor Armand of Valoria offers his military aid in exchange for the hand of his daughter, Princess Solina, in marriage, Captain Levi Ackerman is thrust into an engagement that begins as a political strategy but soon becomes something much deeper.

Princess Solina, sheltered from the world and unaware of the realities of love and war, finds herself drawn to Levi—the man known as Humanity’s Strongest Soldier. As they navigate royal customs, public expectations, and the growing threat of Marley, the bond between them deepens into a genuine connection.

But neither Solina nor Levi are prepared for the challenges of a political marriage, the weight of intimacy, and the secrets that lie beneath the surface. As Solina enters a new life with Levi, her naivety is tested, and Levi faces a battle unlike any he’s fought before—the fight to protect his heart.

Can their love flourish in the midst of war, duty, and danger? Or will the forces conspiring against them tear them apart before they can find peace? (Levi x OC)

Chapter Six

The moment the doors to the more intimate chamber swung open, a subtle shift in the atmosphere occurred. This room, though smaller than the grand audience hall, still held an air of authority. The high ceilings were intricately detailed, with heavy drapery framing the tall windows. The soft glow of the afternoon sun filtered through, casting long shadows across the room’s ornate, marble floors. The Emperor, Lady Solana, Princess Solina, and their entourage settled into their places. The scouts followed suit, each of them standing at attention, their postures sharp and respectful.

The room held a round table in the center, made of dark polished wood, with a map of Paradis and Valoria spread across it. Various markings and notes about the ice burst stone and potential locations for mining were scattered across the surface. The Emperor took his seat at the head of the table, his imposing figure commanding attention without the need for words. Levi, Hange, Armin, and Jean stood on one side of the table, with Levi taking the lead. Lady Solana and Princess Solina sat next to the Emperor, while several high-ranking Valorian officials stood nearby, their eyes keen and attentive.

The Chancellor, who had been quietly observing, now cleared his throat to signal the beginning of the conversation. "As we move forward, it would be best to discuss the details of the proposed mining operation. Captain Levi, I understand that Paradis is cautious about how the ice burst stone is to be extracted."

Levi’s eyes narrowed slightly, his tone measured and firm. “We understand the value of the ice burst stone, and we want to make sure it’s handled properly. The extraction process can be dangerous, and we’ve seen firsthand the devastation caused when it’s mishandled. What are Valoria’s intentions with the stone? We need to be clear about its use.”

The Emperor leaned back slightly in his chair, his gaze cool and calculated as he regarded the scouts. His fingers drummed lightly on the armrest, the only indication of the thoughts swirling behind his stoic expression. “The stone,” he began, his voice smooth and deliberate, “is a resource that will secure the future of both our nations. Its power is undeniable. In the right hands, it could provide protection and advancement for generations.”

His words were vague, almost evasive, offering just enough information to answer the question without truly revealing his plans. Levi’s eyes flickered to Hange, who stood beside him with a thoughtful expression, clearly picking up on the Emperor’s careful wording. The Emperor continued, “Our engineers have studied what limited information we’ve been able to gather from Paradis’ encounters with the stone, and we believe its full potential is far from realized. That is why we are eager to begin mining immediately.”

Hange, never one to shy away from pushing for answers, raised an eyebrow. “You said ‘protection and advancement.’ Does that mean you plan to weaponize it? We need transparency if this alliance is going to work.”

The Emperor’s expression didn’t change, but there was a moment of silence before he replied. “I assure you, our interest in the stone is solely for the benefit of our empire and its allies.” His gaze shifted briefly to Levi, his tone firm as he added, “As for when we plan to begin mining, we intend to do so immediately after Captain Levi and Princess Solina’s wedding.”

At the mention of the wedding, the mood in the room seemed to shift subtly. Lady Solana, who had been quietly watching the conversation unfold, leaned forward slightly, a gentle smile gracing her lips. “Yes,” she said softly, her voice warm but with a touch of formality. “The wedding will take place in a month’s time. We’ve already begun preparations.” She turned her attention to Levi, her gaze soft but steady. “There will be an engagement ball next week, where the alliance between our nations will be announced to the world. It will be a grand affair—world leaders, nobility, and high-ranking officials from all corners of the world will be in attendance.”

Levi, ever the pragmatic soldier, simply nodded in acknowledgment. He wasn’t one for grand ceremonies or formalities, and the thought of an engagement ball felt like an unnecessary distraction. Still, he knew the importance of these events in maintaining appearances and securing the alliance. His gaze remained fixed on the Emperor, his focus still on the conversation about the stone. However, out of the corner of his eye, he couldn’t help but notice Princess Solina.

She had been sitting quietly throughout the conversation, her hands delicately folded in her lap, her posture prim and proper. But every so often, Levi felt the weight of her gaze on him. Each time he turned his head ever so slightly, he would catch her staring. Their eyes would meet, and she would quickly avert her gaze, a slight flush coloring her cheeks as she pretended to focus on something else. It had happened more than once, and Levi, always observant, was quick to notice the pattern.

Princess Solina, for her part, was struggling to keep her composure. She had been told all about Captain Levi—his reputation as Humanity’s Strongest Soldier, his exploits in battle, and his unflinching resolve. But seeing him in person was something entirely different. He was much smaller than she had imagined, but there was an undeniable intensity about him, a presence that seemed to command the room even when he wasn’t speaking. She couldn’t help but steal glances at him, her curiosity getting the better of her. Each time their eyes met, she felt a nervous flutter in her chest, and she would quickly look away, her heart racing.

Levi, despite himself, found the princess’s behavior both puzzling and slightly amusing. She was clearly trying to get a read on him, much like he was trying to do with her, but her shyness was evident in the way she kept retreating whenever their eyes met. For someone who was supposedely one of the most admired women in the world, she seemed remarkably unsure of herself.

The conversation between the Emperor and the scouts continued, but Levi’s mind wandered for a moment, considering the situation he now found himself in. He was to be married to this woman—a woman he didn’t know, in a land that was foreign to him. And yet, despite the strangeness of it all, there was something about the way Solina looked at him that made him wonder. What kind of person was she beneath the royal title and the shy demeanor? Could they truly make this work, or was this destined to be nothing more than a political arrangement?

As the Emperor began discussing the logistics of the mining operation and how Valoria’s engineers would work in tandem with Paradis’ resources, Levi’s attention snapped back to the present. He knew that, regardless of how he felt about the marriage, the alliance, military aid for Paradis, and the stone were what mattered most.

Lady Solana glanced between her daughter and Levi, noticing the stolen glances and the tension in the air. Her smile softened, and she spoke gently, her voice filled with kindness. “Captain Levi, I hope that in the coming weeks, you and my daughter will have the opportunity to get to know one another. The engagement ball is only the beginning, but there will be time to talk and understand each other.”

Levi simply nodded, his expression stoic. “Of course,” he replied, though inwardly he had no idea how this would play out.

The Emperor’s voice once again dominated the room. “For now, let us focus on the immediate matter at hand—securing the future of both Paradis and Valoria through the mining of the ice burst stone.” His eyes flicked to Levi and Hange. “I trust you will cooperate with our engineers once the wedding has passed?”

Hange, ever the tactician, nodded thoughtfully. “We’ll ensure everything is handled smoothly. But we’ll need full transparency during the mining process.”

“Of course,” the Emperor replied smoothly, though Levi could tell that the Emperor was keeping his true intentions closely guarded. The vagueness of his answers and the careful diplomacy in his tone made it clear that this was a man who would do anything to protect his empire’s interests.

As the conversation continued, Princess Solina once again found herself sneaking a glance at Levi, wondering if he had noticed her. Little did she know, he had caught her every time.

Solina found herself unable to keep her eyes off of Captain Levi. Her heart beat faster every time she dared to glance in his direction. He truly wasn’t what she had envisioned when her father had first told her of the arrangement. Stories of the captain described him as Humanity’s Strongest Soldier, a battle-hardened warrior with more victories to his name than any other soldier. She had expected someone imposing, someone grizzled by war, with the weight of years evident in every step. But now, seeing him in person, none of those assumptions seemed to match.

He wasn’t as tall as she had imagined. In fact, he was shorter than most of the men in the room, yet his presence still commanded attention. His compact build, strong and sturdy, reminded her of a coiled spring—poised and ready to strike at a moment’s notice. And despite his reputation, there was a surprising youthfulness to him. Though she had been told he was in his mid-thirties, Levi looked much younger, as if the years of battle hadn’t quite left their mark on his appearance in the way she had expected. He looked like he could have been in his early twenties, not too far from her own age.

Her eyes traced the sharpness of his features—his neatly trimmed hair, short and dark, framing his face. His eyes, however, were what held her attention most. They were cold, calculating, and yet, there was something in them she couldn’t quite place. A depth that told of all the battles he had fought, all the lives he had seen lost. His skin, pale and unmarked, contrasted with the strength she knew was hidden beneath the surface. And then there were his hands. Though he sat with them folded neatly in front of him, she caught glimpses of them as he gestured subtly during the conversation. They were a curious mix—soft-looking in some places, but clearly callused and rough in others, the hands of a man who had fought tirelessly, yet somehow maintained a certain gentleness.

There was a quiet strength about him, a calmness that reminded her of her father. It was an aura of authority that didn’t need to be shouted. It was simply felt. For the briefest moment, Solina wondered if this strength extended beyond the battlefield. Could Levi’s calm resolve translate into something softer, something that could potentially allow them to bridge the gap between duty and affection?

Before she could stop herself, she realized she had been staring—no, studying him—her thoughts completely absorbed by the man who would soon be her husband. Levi’s sharp gaze met hers, and her breath caught in her throat. He was staring back at her, his expression unreadable but clearly aware of her attention. Time seemed to slow, and for a moment, it felt as if they were the only two people in the room. The rest of the world faded into the background as their eyes locked.

A wave of heat rushed to Solina’s cheeks, a faint flush creeping up her neck as she quickly dropped her gaze, mortified that she had been caught. She blinked, trying to gather herself, only to realize that not just Levi, but the entire room had gone quiet. Her heart skipped a beat, and it suddenly dawned on her that everyone—her parents, the scouts, the officials—was staring at her.

The Emperor’s voice cut through the silence, deep and calm, though there was an unmistakable hint of amusement in his tone. “Solina, my dear, I was asking for your thoughts on the engagement ball. Are you feeling prepared for next week’s festivities?”

Solina’s stomach dropped. She hadn’t heard a single word her father had said. She had been so distracted by Levi, so lost in her own thoughts, that she hadn’t even noticed when the conversation shifted. She swallowed hard, her mind racing as she tried to think of a response.

“I—um—yes, Father,” she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper as she glanced around the room, noting the curious and slightly amused expressions on the faces of those around her. “I—I am prepared.”

She could feel the heat in her cheeks intensifying, and she fought the urge to fidget with the folds of her gown. Her hands, normally so graceful, felt clumsy in her lap. She knew she was supposed to say more, something intelligent or thoughtful, but her mind was blank. All she could think about was how Levi was still watching her, his gaze unwavering, as if he were analyzing her every move.

Lady Solana, sensing her daughter’s discomfort, intervened with a kind smile. “It’s been a long day,” she said smoothly, turning to the Emperor. “I’m sure Solina is simply tired. There’s still much to prepare, but everything will be in place for the ball.”

The Emperor nodded, his eyes softening slightly as he looked at his daughter. “Of course,” he said gently. “You’ve done well, Solina. There’s no need to worry.”

Solina nodded mutely, grateful for her mother’s intervention, though she still felt the weight of embarrassment hanging over her. She dared another glance at Levi, wondering what he must think of her. A foolish princess, distracted by her own thoughts during an important meeting. But when their eyes met again, she saw something unexpected in his gaze—a flicker of understanding, or perhaps even amusement, as if he found her flustered state mildly entertaining.

She quickly looked away again, her heart hammering in her chest. This was going to be a long engagement if she couldn’t even manage to focus in his presence.

The conversation resumed, the room returning to its usual formality, but Solina’s mind remained elsewhere. She couldn’t shake the feeling that this marriage—this strange, unexpected union—was going to be far more complicated than she had imagined.

Levi, meanwhile, silently observed her from across the room, his sharp mind cataloging every nuance of her behavior. He noticed the way her eyes flitted nervously, the slight flush on her cheeks, and how she seemed both determined and unsure at the same time. She was nothing like he had expected, and that intrigued him. For all her shyness and inexperience, there was something about her that drew his attention—something he couldn’t quite place yet.

But one thing was clear: Princess Solina was more than just a pawn in this political game. There was a depth to her, and though Levi wasn’t one to dwell on emotions or personal connections, he found himself wondering if perhaps there was more to this engagement than mere duty.

As the meeting continued and plans for the upcoming wedding and mining of the ice burst stone were discussed, Levi couldn’t help but think that this—this strange alliance, this unexpected marriage—might prove to be more complicated and, perhaps, more interesting than he had initially anticipated.

The atmosphere shifted slightly as the Emperor continued speaking, his voice calm and composed, but the weight of his words held a different kind of gravity now. “As part of this alliance,” Emperor Armand began, his eyes steady on Levi and the other scouts, “Valoria will send full military support to Paradis after the wedding. This support will not only protect your island but strengthen your regiments. We understand the dangers your people face, and we will provide what is necessary to secure a lasting peace.”

Levi gave a small nod, showing no surprise. This was part of the initial deal, after all—the price for the marriage and the right to mine the ice burst stone. The Emperor’s promise of full military backing was expected, but hearing the details now made the weight of the agreement feel more real.

“We'll need the support,” Hange said thoughtfully, her hand absently touching her chin. “With Marley on edge, Paradis can't afford to stand alone. Having Valoria's military could tip the balance in our favor.”

The Emperor's expression didn’t waver. “Indeed. But more than just sending troops, we’ll be incorporating our most skilled warriors and tacticians to assist your regiments.”

At this, Lady Solana quietly motioned to an attendant standing by the door. “Please, fetch Prince Solomon,” she requested, her voice gentle but firm. Her gaze turned back to the scouts with a hint of pride. “My son, Solomon, will be overseeing these military efforts.”

The scouts exchanged brief glances, recognizing the significance of this. Prince Solomon, the heir to the throne, personally leading the Valorian military in Paradis was not just a symbol of trust, but a calculated power move. It was clear that Valoria intended to be deeply involved in the future of Paradis, securing not just an alliance, but a foothold.

Levi’s eyes flicked toward Lady Solana, then back to the Emperor. He could feel the weight of what this meant. Having a foreign prince in charge of military operations on Paradis soil would likely come with its own set of challenges, but Levi didn’t show any outward reaction. It was just another obstacle to navigate, like so many others.

Hange, never one to shy away from asking questions, leaned forward slightly. “We’ve heard Prince Solomon is one of Valoria’s best soldiers,” she said, her tone casual but curious. “What exactly will his role be in our military operations?”

Before the Emperor could respond, the door opened, and Prince Solomon entered the room.

Solomon was every bit as commanding as the scouts had imagined. He was tall and broad-shouldered, his frame accentuated by the crisp lines of his decorated military uniform. His red hair was cut short, much like his father’s, and his sharp green eyes seemed to take in everything at once. He carried himself with the confidence of a man who had been born and raised to lead.

Solomon approached the group with long, purposeful strides, his gaze briefly passing over each scout before it landed on Levi. There was no mistaking the tension in the air as the two men sized each other up. Levi, known for his lack of reaction to most things, met Solomon’s gaze with his usual unflinching calm, though he could feel the weight of the Crown Prince’s scrutiny.

The Emperor, sensing the unspoken challenge, broke the silence. “Captain Levi, this is my son and the Crown Prince of Valoria, Solomon. He will be overseeing our military efforts in Paradis, ensuring that our forces are integrated into yours efficiently.”

Solomon gave a curt nod in greeting, his expression serious as he addressed Levi directly. “Captain Levi,” he said, his voice even but firm. “I’ve heard much about you. Humanity’s Strongest Soldier.” There was a subtle challenge in his tone, as if he were testing Levi’s reputation already. “I look forward to working alongside you.”

Levi, his expression as unreadable as ever, nodded in return. “Likewise.”

There was a brief pause as the two men assessed each other. Solomon, though formal, was clearly trying to gauge Levi’s strength, perhaps trying to see if the stories of his prowess were exaggerated. Levi, on the other hand, was merely sizing up another obstacle. He’d dealt with soldiers, commanders, and royalty before, and Solomon was no different in his eyes.

Solomon moved to have a seat next to his mother, and as the meeting continued, the formalities unfolded with precision, but an underlying tension hovered in the air, especially for Prince Solomon. Solomon watched the scouts with a careful, guarded expression, particularly Levi. He listened to the exchange between his father and the Paradis soldiers without interruption, but his thoughts were elsewhere. The idea of his little sister being married off to a man from a distant and unknown land unsettled him.

Though Solomon respected his father’s decision, the fact remained that Solina was about to be thrust into a world far removed from the comfort and security of Valoria. No matter what political benefits the marriage might bring, no matter how crucial the alliance was, it didn’t sit right with Solomon to let his sister move to such an unfamiliar and isolated place by herself.

That was why Solomon had volunteered to lead the Valorian military contingent in Paradis himself. He wasn’t going to leave Solina’s future to chance or leave her unprotected in a place surrounded by unknown threats. If Solina was to marry Levi Ackerman, Solomon wanted to see for himself whether this man—this supposed "Humanity's Strongest Soldier"—was even worthy of her.

Solina, sitting quietly beside her mother, watched the her brother stare down Captain Levi. She knew Solomon’s protectiveness all too well—he had always looked out for her, ever since they were children. Even now, as the Crown Prince, with countless responsibilities, he still made time for her, ensuring that she was never left vulnerable or alone. It warmed her heart to know that he cared so deeply, but it also made her nervous. She appreciated his presence, but she didn’t want him to think poorly of Levi.

Levi’s gaze, while focused on Solomon, had the slightest flicker toward Solina, catching her watching them. Solina quickly averted her eyes, feeling a mix of embarrassment and warmth at the same time. Her brother had always been her protector, and though she was grateful for it, this situation was different. She was about to enter a new phase of her life, and no amount of protectiveness could shield her from the reality of what lay ahead.

The Emperor, sensing the silent tension between Solomon and Levi, smoothly continued the conversation. “Prince Solomon will ensure that Valoria’s military presence in Paradis strengthens all three of your regiments—the Survey Corps, the Garrison, and the Military Police. He is one of Valoria’s most decorated soldiers, and I have full confidence in his ability to lead alongside your forces.”

Armin, ever the strategist, nodded thoughtfully. “That would greatly bolster our defenses, especially given the looming threat of Marley.”

Solomon, tearing his gaze away from Levi, addressed the room more broadly now. “Our forces will be fully prepared to assist. We have trained extensively for combat in various terrains, and our strategic advisors will work with your commanders to ensure that every regiment is fortified.”

The conversation resumed, focusing on the logistics of military deployment and strategy, but Solina’s mind was still on Levi and her brother. She appreciated that Solomon cared so deeply for her, that he was willing to leave Valoria to make sure she was safe in Paradis. Yet, she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of anxiety. Her brother might not think Levi was good enough for her, but from what she had seen so far, she wasn’t so sure. There was something about Levi, something in the way he held himself, in his quiet strength, that gave her a sense of reassurance she hadn’t expected.

Solomon cast one last glance at Levi before turning his attention fully to the discussion at hand. Solina, still sneaking glances at Levi, felt a small sense of comfort in knowing that no matter what happened, her brother would always be looking out for her. But as her eyes drifted back to Levi, she wondered if perhaps he might be the protector she needed in the future.

For now, though, it was clear that both men would be carefully watching each other—one, a prince determined to protect his sister at all costs; the other, a soldier who had sworn to carry out his duty, no matter what that entailed.

…

The meeting finally drew to a close, the weight of decisions made hanging over the room. The Valorian officials, along with the Chancellor, bowed politely to the Emperor before making their exit. The large double doors shut with a soft thud, leaving behind a sense of quiet relief that the formal discussions had ended for now. The Emperor and Lady Solana remained seated, along with their children, Solomon and Solina, and the scouts.

The Emperor stood slowly, his posture as dignified as ever, and offered a cordial nod to the scouts. “I trust the discussions today were fruitful. You will be shown to your quarters where you can get some rest and prepare for this evening’s banquet.”

Lady Solana smiled warmly, her gaze softening as it fell on Solina, who sat demurely beside her. “Yes, please rest while you can. Tonight, you’ll meet the rest of our family,” she said gently, her eyes flickering with maternal affection before she looked back at Levi and the others.

Prince Solomon, however, still hadn’t fully shaken off the protective tension he felt toward his sister. His green eyes continued to assess Levi, subtly sizing him up once more, as if testing him with every glance. His thoughts were clear: Is this the man worthy of my sister?

Lady Solana, noticing her son’s behavior, let out a soft sigh of exasperation and scolded him lightly. “Solomon,” she said in a hushed tone, “enough. Captain Levi will be your sister’s husband, and you must give him a chance. This is not the time to challenge him.”

Solomon’s lips tightened, but he gave a curt nod, stepping back slightly and keeping his thoughts to himself. His protective instincts for Solina remained strong, but he understood his mother’s point. His eyes briefly met Levi’s, and though the intensity remained, there was a begrudging respect that flickered there, acknowledging Levi’s calm and unshakable demeanor.

The Emperor, noticing the subtle exchange, shifted the conversation. “You are all invited to join us for dinner tonight in the main banquet hall,” he said, his voice steady but filled with purpose. “There, you will meet my other consorts and all of my children.”

Levi glanced at the Emperor, nodding his acceptance. Formal dinner with the entire imperial family was a strategic opportunity, not just a social gathering. The scouts were aware of the politics involved, and Levi, especially, understood that this would be a chance to observe the dynamics of the Valorian royal family firsthand.

The Emperor continued, his tone becoming slightly more personal. “Captain Levi,” he said, his eyes resting on him for a moment, “I would like to give you and my daughter, Princess Solina, a chance to speak tonight in a more relaxed setting. The formality of these discussions may have overwhelmed her, and I believe it is important that you both have an opportunity to know each other beyond these political meetings.”

Levi’s gaze flicked toward Solina, catching her shy, downcast eyes for a moment before she quickly looked away again, flustered. He could sense her nervousness, and her inability to keep her eyes from wandering toward him throughout the meeting hadn’t gone unnoticed. It was clear she was trying to make sense of the man she was meant to marry, just as much as he was trying to understand her. The Emperor seemed pleased by Solina’s reactions, as if her intrigue, combined with her flustered nature, reminded him of his own early days with Lady Solana.

Indeed, the Emperor’s smile softened ever so slightly. “In fact,” he added, his gaze turning warm as he glanced between Levi and his wife, “Solina’s behavior reminds me quite a bit of how Lady Solana was when we first met.”

Lady Solana chuckled at the memory, her face lighting up with affection as she looked at her husband. “I was just as nervous as Solina, if not more,” she admitted with a playful tone. “But look where we are now.” She turned to Levi, her eyes twinkling with excitement. “Captain Levi, tonight you’ll have the pleasure of hearing Solina play the harp. She’s been practicing a beautiful piece especially for this evening.”

Hange, who had been quietly observing, perked up at this, her curiosity evident. “Oh? The harp? I’ve heard Princess Solina is a virtuoso. I’d love to hear her play.”

Lady Solana nodded, beaming with pride. “She is,” she said softly, looking fondly at her daughter. “Music has always been her greatest passion, and she has spent years perfecting her craft.”

Levi remained outwardly stoic, but he couldn’t deny that he was intrigued. He had heard much about Solina’s musical abilities, and it seemed that she was not only a princess but also someone with a true artistic gift. For a brief moment, he wondered what her music would sound like. Would it be as shy and delicate as she seemed, or would there be a hidden depth and strength in her playing?

“I look forward to it,” Levi said simply, though there was a sincerity in his tone that didn’t go unnoticed.

Princess Solina’s face turned a shade pinker at his words, her heart fluttering with nervousness and anticipation. She had never performed in front of someone like Levi before—someone who wasn’t from her world of royalty or politics but from the battlefield, someone hardened by war and violence. Yet, the thought of sharing her music with him, of letting him see a part of her that wasn’t defined by duty, made her feel slightly less afraid of what was to come.

The Emperor stood, signaling the end of the conversation. “Very well, I will have the attendants escort you to your quarters. Take some time to rest and refresh yourselves before the banquet. We shall meet again tonight.”

As the scouts stood to follow the attendants, Levi glanced once more at Solina. She was still trying—and failing—to avoid looking at him, but this time, when their eyes met, she held his gaze for just a moment longer than before. There was something unspoken in that brief exchange—a curiosity, perhaps even a small spark of hope that this arrangement, though political, might not be as cold and distant as it seemed.

With that, the scouts left the room, and the Valorian family watched them go, each member with their own thoughts about what the future held for their empire and this newfound alliance with Paradis.

Tonight, the real test would begin.

…

As the scouts made their way down the long corridors of the palace, they were escorted by the same attendants who had greeted them earlier. The opulence of the palace had lost none of its initial impact—everything from the polished marble floors to the grandiose tapestries hanging on the walls spoke of Valoria’s wealth and power. The soft clinking of their boots on the floor echoed through the halls as they were led to their quarters. The discussions had been heavy, and now that the formalities had passed, the weight of it all began to settle in.

Once inside their assigned quarters, a large, well-furnished suite with soft beds and elaborate decor, the scouts finally had a moment to relax. Hange, ever the bundle of energy, was the first to speak.

“Well, that was quite the introduction, wasn’t it?” she said with a grin, plopping down on one of the plush chairs. “The Emperor, Princess Solina, Lady Solana, Prince Solomon—all of them are something else. Valoria is unlike anything I imagined.”

Armin nodded thoughtfully as he looked around, still processing the grandeur of the palace. “It’s incredible. I mean, we knew Valoria was powerful, but seeing it firsthand—it's a whole different experience. The Emperor is clearly a calculated man, but I think he’s genuinely interested in securing this alliance. For now, at least.”

Jean, who had been standing by the window and peeking out at the bustling palace grounds, turned back to the group. “Yeah, but what about Prince Solomon? Did you see the way he was eyeing Levi? It was like he was trying to figure out if you were worth anything, Captain.”

Hange chuckled at that, glancing at Levi. “Well, I suppose it’s only natural. You are going to marry his little sister. Can’t blame the guy for wanting to size you up.”

Levi, who had been mostly quiet throughout the walk back, leaned against the wall, arms folded across his chest. He hadn’t missed the scrutiny from Solomon, nor did it particularly bother him. What was on his mind, however, wasn’t Solomon or even the Emperor’s plans. It was Princess Solina.

Throughout the meeting, he had noticed many things about her—subtle, quiet observations that seemed to gather in his mind the more he thought about her. Solina had been trying to hide her nervousness, but it was clear in her shy glances, the way she had fidgeted ever so slightly in her seat, and how she had been caught off guard when her father had asked her a question. She seemed unused to situations like this, where so much was expected of her.

Levi’s thoughts drifted to her appearance—how delicate she seemed in that pink gown, her red hair cascading down her back in soft curls. It wasn’t just her physical beauty that struck him, though it was undeniable. Her hair was vibrant, like a fire, and her skin had a soft, porcelain quality to it. But it was her eyes that held his attention. Green, like the deepest forest, and yet, behind their shyness, there was something else. Curiosity, perhaps. A quiet strength, hidden beneath the surface.

He also couldn’t help but think about the way she had looked at him, sneaking glances when she thought he wouldn’t notice. Each time he caught her, her face flushed with embarrassment, but there was something about it that didn’t feel just like awkwardness. She seemed intrigued by him—curious, just as he was about her.

“She’s definitely not what I expected,” Levi muttered, almost to himself.

Hange, ever the nosy one, perked up at Levi’s comment. “Oh? And what exactly did you expect, Levi?”

Levi shot her a glance but didn’t rise to the bait. “Someone more… formal. She’s quiet, shy. Not used to this kind of pressure.”

Armin, who had been observing Levi, smiled slightly. “Well, it’s not easy being thrown into a political marriage. She’s probably just as nervous as you are, Levi. She’s never even met anyone from Paradis before.”

Jean snickered. “Nervous? Levi? I think it’s more like she’s terrified. The poor girl couldn’t even look at you without turning red.”

Levi didn’t respond, but the memory of Solina’s flustered reactions flashed in his mind. He wasn’t used to people being so easily unnerved around him—especially someone from a royal family. She was young, probably no more than a few years younger than him, and he wondered if this marriage would be just another burden placed on her shoulders, another duty she had to fulfill.

“What did you think of her, Levi?” Hange asked, her curiosity piqued. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “I mean, you are going to marry her, after all.”

Levi paused for a moment, choosing his words carefully. “She’s… different from what I imagined,” he finally said. “Not just because of how she looks. She’s nervous, yeah, but there’s something else. She’s curious.”

Armin nodded. “I think she’s trying to understand this situation just as much as you are. It can’t be easy for her either—moving to Paradis, marrying a soldier she’s never met. I bet she’s feeling the pressure.”

Levi sighed quietly, pushing off from the wall and standing up straighter. “Maybe. It’s not like we’ve got much of a choice in this. Neither of us do.”

Despite his usual reserved nature, Levi couldn’t deny that Solina had left an impression on him. He had spent years on the battlefield, hardened by war and loss, and yet here was this shy, quiet princess who was about to be tied to him for the sake of politics. She seemed fragile in some ways, yet he sensed there was more to her than just her nervousness and beauty. He was intrigued by her, though he wasn’t sure why just yet.

Armin’s voice broke through his thoughts. “Well, tonight’s dinner should be interesting. We’ll meet the rest of the royal family, and we’ll get to see how they all interact. Plus, we’ll get to hear Princess Solina play the harp. That’ll give us a better sense of her.”

Levi nodded, his thoughts now on the dinner ahead. “Yeah. We’ll see.”

As the conversation wound down, Levi found himself alone with his thoughts once more. Tonight, he would not only meet more members of this foreign family, but he’d also have the chance to observe Solina further. Maybe, just maybe, he’d get a clearer picture of who she really was—beneath the crown and the expectations.

~

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[haxorus612]

Arknights Pull Priority Guide - Future Event Spoilers

Pull priority guide from post lucent arrowhead to delicious in dungeon collab. Ranked from highest-value operator to lowest, at the end I'll discuss which banners to prioritize.

#1: Stop playing ga cha games

#2: Odda.

brings Ho'olheyak's previously unique niche of a rapid-fire uplift to a five star package. While he's more limited in what enemies he can lift, he more than makes up for it with better uptime and splash AOE. It's rare that 5 stars get to compete directly with 6 stars. For that alone, he's absolutely worth your time. Just like ho'olheyak before him, he's got excellent synergy with one particular IS4 relic.

#3: Nymph.

so far the only applicator of the "fear" status effect, which is distinct from Degenbrecher's frighten. It's a unique status that forces enemies to walk backwards for a short time. It has a lot of potent use cases, especially against slower enemies. Like most of our entrants here, her notable skill has a reasonably low SP cost.

#4: Laios Touden.

a character fully unique to arknights from one of the manhwas, i think it's called "Dig Dug's Dungeon Dining"? It was part of the konami collaboration. Anyway, he, like odda, brings a 6-star utility to a lower rank. Frighten is a fairly powerful effect, fully canceling an enemy's auto-attacks, but on a purely-offensive operator like degenbrecher, it didn't quite have a central place on her kit. Laios has much tankier stats as a dreadnought, and his frighten has a long duration and low SP cost.

#5: Logos

What logos brings to the table is straight out of the matrix: he can slow down and potentially delete nearly any projectile with his s3. It's flashy, and when used cleverly can save you a lot of grief. However, it's hardly applicable to every situation. Some of the most dangerous ranged enemies don't use projectiles at all, and some "projectiles" ignore his skill anyway. It's certainly not universal, but when it's useful, it's fun and powerful.

#6: Ascalon

She doesn't bring anything fully unique, but what she does bring is a bit stronger and weirder than most operators before her. Like Ela, she has a skill that inflicts "accuracy reduction" on enemies, with a 50% chance for any enemy attack to miss instead of Ela's 40%. It has some distinct use cases from dodge, notably stopping certain damage-over-time effects that would result from a hit. On top of that, she can slow aerial enemies with her s2 without damaging them, which looks very funny. Overall, a useful and unique operator.

Honorable mentions: Chilchuck Tims - Unlike Folinic, who only gives herself resistance environmental effects, Chilchuck gives full immunity. He's also kind enough to share with any allies within his range. Ulpianus - Technically the first operator to be able to redeploy himself with a skill, but it's hardly different from just. Y'know. redeploying an operator normally. Can still be very useful, especially when rapidly swapping between lanes. Narantuya - Also applies accuracy reduction to enemies, but despite the infinite application time, its range and chance leaves much to be desired. Instead of a 50%, it's only 20%. Lutonada - Extremely adorable. Also, shifting utility on a defender is completely unique if you've never heard of croissant.

Which Banner Should I Pull On?

While it's easy to get caught up in the hype of a new limited banner, Logos' cool utility is barely applicable to more than a handful of sick compilations. Try to grab someone more reliable, like Laios Touden, who will scream at your enemies! With that in mind, here are my recommendations:

This banner has two of my recommended operators: Pallas' Bodyguard, and the Janitor Director Ascalon, and one of my honorable mentions, Lutonada. 3 for the price of 1 is the best deal you'll get here!

logos banner: He might not be the most widely applicable, but you can't go wrong with something that entertaining. Still, I wouldn't recommend pulling too hard. Missing out on him isn't the end of the world.

HUH??? what? why is grain buds on this banner? what's she doing down there??? omg save this child

Nyumph is also fully unique! She's got style in spades, too, nothing like those bountiful boring blue banners up above.

And with that, we've come to the end of arknights. I did think it was weird that they did end of service on their Fyodor Dostoevsky collaboration, Dungeon In Delicious, but you never really know how these things are going to go aha. Thanks for reading, hope you have a nice day!

This banner has 1 main pick, Laios, and one of my honorable mentions, chilchuck. With 2, that's greater than one, and therefore much higher value than the other banners except ascalon's where you can Definitely pull odda. Really try to pull odda from that one, i dare you. If you don't you can come to my house and break my legs. I'll even post my address under the cut:

[neonmetro]

Hey chat I'm sick and the day is definitely not going as well as I thought it would so. . .I ever so kindly beg for a Uly. . .

Honestly this guy needs an award because he is working a full time job in my head with no breaks !!!! Like this man can't even call out sick. . .it's so cute. . .the silly ever. Honestly I think this is going to be Ulysses appreciation because what makes someone feel more better than talking about some silly blorbos. . . NOTHING !!!

He's so pathetic and awful I love it. . .

*slams fist on table* GET ME ALL THE ULYSSES YOU HAVE !!!! STAT !!! /SILLY

-Ulysses loving anon

IT TRULY IS A 24/7 365 DAY JOB HAVING ULY IN YOUR BRAIN THAT GUY JUST INFESTS YOUR GOD FORSAKEN BRAINWORMS!!!!!!

he truly is just. absolutely tired and done with everything. life is just dull without Her, and without Her, he is noman.

i was actually talking about his gender w a friend semi recently and its really interesting part of him... most of his identity really does align with traditional masc expectations, wanting to protect those closest to him and be able to support a family and he's essentially just a trans straight guy but his relationships with sapphics is just different. he doesn't sees them as another facet to himself or a missing piece (even though literally everyone he was close to has died and its his fault he doesn't think he's less of a man gender wise he just doesn't think he's a human period (tho his it pronoun doesn't derive from this. to be clear))

ALSO. pivoting to his friendships. he, polites, and eurylochus have matching hair ribbons...

when polites dies, eurylo takes it while uly takes his out. he can't pretend he deserves it now after what he's done to polites, and eurylo is like "ah... i'll take it for safe keeping, if you ever think you want it again."

NOW. ONTO MINVERVA. IT GETS FUCKED.

the founding purposefully have kids and champions that aren't apart of the founding's bloodline just so they can later use their souls to fuel the palladium to keep their powers/immortality. and they Want contracts w other people so they'll be able to provide better powers/last longer. so having multiple champions, like in the case of minerva (ulysses and diomedes), isn't unusual, its just "efficient"

isn't it fucked that he was slated to be a pig sent to the slaughter and the only way to get out of that fate is to butcher his friend first. isn't that crazy (the friend being minerva or polites is up to audience interpretation)

his relationships with his kids are also really fucked.

telemachus obv is the closest with him and he actively tries to talk to him the most. but also his feelings on his dad are weird. on one hand he's PISSED at him for leaving him and his mom alone and making him suffer so much just because he wasn't there physically or emotionally causing so much repression. but on the other, if he doesn't loves uly, who will? he kind of feels an obligation as uly's oldest kid to set an example for the rest of them for how they should feel about their father.

because telegony (their name is actually telegony but i'll tag them as telegonus bc i don't want to tag that god forsaken book) absolutely DESPISES ulysses. joined enosichthon corp. out of spite. rose through the ranks. out of spite. intruded on a picnic w/ uly and telemachus. out of spite. they spent the absolute least amount of time with their father and it shows. they hate ulysses with all their guts and ulysses just accepts it which makes telegony even *angrier*.

nausinous spent a lot of their childhood with ulysses, so they have a sort of attachment to him... they don't hate them but they see how their half sibling reacts to him and wishes to just... not have him kill himself in front of everyone.

ANYWAYS THAT'S YOUR DESIGNATED ULY CONTENT !!!!! I HOPE YOU FEEL BETTER SOON BTW...!!! (ik this is late... hopefully you feel better soon tho ^^)

[dbgdbw]

272.Changeling (2)

체인질링 (2)

That ‘hi’ meant it should be the Jellyfish bastard, but the hell was with ‘appa’.

Could it be, that one of our kids had made it here. …but since that wasn’t likely, I assumed it was probably that Jellyfish asshole messing around in my memories, when the fog suddenly began to pick up around me. It raged, as though it was just about to swallow me whole; yet, as though held back back by an invisible barrier, it only circled around my vicinity. And then, the magical energy in my body began to be sucked away. Towards my chest. To where the chest wound was.

Ordinarily, I would’ve passed out long ago, but for some reason I was alright. Though I wasn’t certain where it might be coming from, an endless supply of mana–wait, hold on.

‘Eunhae.’

I recalled Eunhae’s power, that had been used to restore my body. Just in case, I took a look at Eunhae’s Item description window.

[ Yoo Eunhae - L-rank

A sword born from the magic stone of the Great General Dragon Lord Shalos. A young Wellspring of Mana (access limited to contract holder).

Contract Holder - Han Yoojin ]

Wellspring of Mana(1). A description that had definitely been absent at first had appeared. Myungwoo had mentioned that it was an evolution-capable Item, but did it mean that it could develop abilities the way it had here, then. It seemed that it had swallowed a portion of the Mana Hole’s strength.

It was probably impossible, normally, but well, since Eunhae had been born from Shalos, who had been a Maker. Then, did that mean that I’d no longer have to worry about running out of mana.

Even throughout all this, the magic stone in my chest continued to siphon away more mana. As though it had long been holding back until now, relentlessly. And then.

“...this place is.”

The surrounding environment shifted. A familiar ceiling and walls, sofa, table–those things came into sight. It was the residence at the rearing facility. Of course, it couldn’t be the real thing, but even the long scratch gouged into the wall had been perfectly replicated in full. There were an assortment of other touches besides that, too. Though it was a place that could still be considered a ‘new house’, with so many inhabitants, it did appear to be lived-in about three or so years, at a passing glance.

Though the majority of the marks had been left by the monsters, there were ones that Yoohyunie and Yerimie had been responsible for, too. When I pulled open the drawers to check just in case, I was greeted with a pile of new cellphones that hadn’t even been removed from their packaging. The top one was dedicated to Yoohyunie, while the bottom one was for Yerimie. Because Yerimie had preemptively mentioned disliking ‘the prospect of using the same phone as Han Yoohyun’, and then Yoohyunie had agreed, the back-up phones were different models each.

‘It sure does feel realistic.’

Was it a dreamscape, conjured up by the fog. Then, inspecting things more closely would probably only result in the illusion’s hold strengthening. Closing the drawers, I scanned my surroundings.

“It’s been a long while, so let’s do this with a chat, shall we. Not using Yoohyunie’s appearance again, though. Same goes for the others. Since we’re inside a Dungeon, besides, the restrictions should be loosened, right.”

Let’s get a good look at your face for once. Back then, all I’d been able to glimpse had been a form that resembled a strange jellyfish.

“Appa.”

“What d’you mean, ‘ap–’... W-who’re you?”

It was a little kid. A small child that looked to be about four years old, with pink-tinged silvery locks and golden eyes, had come to stand before me at some point. Could it be, that that was the Jellyfish’s original form. It was unnecessarily cute. Had it intentionally utilized that form, after ascertaining that I held a softness for children…….

“D-don’t call me appa!”

Didn’t you have a conscience! Even though you’d likely lived hundreds, or maybe even thousands of years more than I had. The child canted its head in an inquisitive gesture. It was cute, like a fairy, but I couldn’t let myself get caught up by that.

“Then, Yoojin-goon.”

“It’s completely out of place!”

“Yoojin-ah.”

“...don’t pretend like you’re close to me.”

“Yoojin-ssi.”

“Why don’t you just shift into an adult, huh?”

Having a little kid refer to me like that, regardless of what the original goods might’ve been, it felt unsettling after all.

“Then, Master?”

Abruptly, goosebumps broke out over my flesh. I felt like a heinous criminal, the likes of which being beaten to death would be too good for. After internally shrieking are you crazy!, I schooled my face into a sneer.

“Don’t say that kind of shit with that form! Why don’t you use a shape that suits your age, Innocuous King.”

“I’m not the Innocuous King, though.”

“...what?”

You weren’t? Hastily, I used the Sapling Skill. The silver-locked child’s status window popped up before my eyes.

[ Illusory Fairy Dragon - Changeling

Current Stat Rank ?

Maximum Stat Rank Possible ?

Optimized Initial Skill

As You Wish(?) Obtained ](2)

…what was all this. ‘Fairy Dragon’, ‘Changeling’? Not just the rank, but even the Skill had a question mark attached to it. And what was ‘As You Wish’ supposed to be. Why had this guy suddenly appeared.

Now that I thought about it, the magic stone in my chest didn’t seem to be absorbing any more mana, either. I settled a hand over the area where the wound lay. Could it be.

“You, perhaps.”

The little kid, Changeling, beamed.

“Wait, hold on. It’s a dragonkin, yeah, but… Isn’t it too different, still!”

When two Curse-Poison type dragonkin had been synthesized together, how did that result in a Fairy Dragon. It didn’t resemble neither Diarma nor either of the dragonoids, not even a little bit. And though a fragment of Sung Hyunjae had gone into it as well… Hold on. Didn’t it resemble that asshole, kind of? Hadn’t you said that the fragment shouldn’t have any influence on it!

“I was developed the way Master desired of me.”

“I told you not to call me that! The ‘way I desired’, I…….”

I couldn’t finish the thought. I’d, my objective. Dammit, in any case, if it was a Fairy Dragon, that meant that the <Lauchitas’ Natural Enemy> wouldn’t affect it. And its Stats were still question marks, besides.

“To be able to retrieve Han Yoohyun.”

My heart fell.

“Re, trie…ve?”

“Mhn.”

“H-how, w-would I.”

The inside of my throat felt arid. It was way too jarring. To the point that it felt frightening, how much pure joy those words inspired.

“Since you’d grown it to achieve that goal. Me, I mean.”

“I’d, all I did was use Diarma’s Skill, to combine the magic stones.”

“But appa’s a Nurturer. A Nurturer, who holds the ability to ‘raise’. To change the trajectory of their growth in the way you desire.”

“...then, so long as I wish for it.”

“It’s not unconditional. You can’t change the foundational essence. The growth of a fish could be influenced, for example, to have its fins evolve into wings, but you wouldn’t be able to turn it into a real bird. But, since I inherited a ‘changeling’ nature.”

The young child’s form shifted. Growing to tower above me in height, a familiar appearance materialized. Only the hair color alone was different; it was Sung Hyunjae.

“A ‘nature’ that had been processed through countless worlds, covertly planted into those worlds as though he were its denizen. And as I hadn’t been born with a determined form, but had rather been raised from a magic stone, I’m able to transform as my Nurturer wishes.”

The Changeling shifted back into the form of a young child. Attempting to calm my racing heart, I tossed out a random question as a diversion.

“Your appearance, is that also something I wished for? But I’d wanted something closer to Diarma or a dragonoid’s form.”

That had definitely been the case. Since, that would make what I had to do easier to carry out.

“I can take on that form too. But appa doesn’t like it, right. I don’t want to be disliked. I’ll grant your wish, so don’t hate me.”

“...I don’t hate you.”

I’d wanted to keep from liking you, is all. I took in a deep breath. That <Perfect Nurturer> Title.

“That, I could do something like that–I had no clue.”

“Since it would’ve been dangerous, if you’d known. The reason why the Reprobates won’t explain in depth about Titles and Skills, is probably ‘cause of that too. Since if it gets discovered by a Transcendent with a memory-reading Skill and gets out, then everyone’ll be after appa for certain.”

“Then having that knowledge like this is dangerous too!”

When that Jellyfish bastard was still after me, even now–the prospect of their ranks increasing sparked dread, just to imagine. They might lay their sights on those around me, to use them as leverage. Would I have to erase my memories, however possible.

“Since I’ve woken now, it’s alright. They can’t interpose.”

“Ah, now that I’m thinking about it, the Newcomer was forced to send me into the virtual reality World using my real body because of you, too. …will it be fine as long as the Reprobates keep their mouths shut, then.”

“The Reprobates probably aren’t aware of the finer details either, to begin with.”

Gently floating into the air, the Changeling drifted to my side. A semi-translucent wing of sorts seemed to flutter behind its back, too.

“Go ahead and pull up the Title.”

As the Changeling had bid, I opened up the status window.

[ Perfect Nurturer(L)

Proof of being a Nurturer who has raised a powerful entity of unparallelled prowess the world over. As their past ability threshold surpassed the blood-tie Nurtured’s current abilities+100%, made all the more perfect by that virtue. ](3)

“The description you see at first on a Title or Skill is whatever the Reprobates assume and write down, right. This is the same, too.”

“...you, can you see my status window?”

“Mhn. Appa’s, I can see. We’d kept looking at it together, right.”

“Huh? Then, the keyword too!”

“I’m already affiliated with appa, now, so it’s okay. Though I probably can’t be buffed.”

Saying that there was no need to worry, since it would definitely keep mum, it pointed at the Title description with a finger.

“I can’t intervene completely either, so I’ll just bring the true essence forth for this. It should be possible, since it’s appa’s, and a Title that’s imparted a direct influence on my development.”

As the Changeling finished speaking, the Nurturer status page turned indistinct for a moment before coming back into sharp relief.

[ Perfect Nurturer(L)

A Nurturer, whom a born S-rank Awakened loved; enough to knowingly sacrifice his own life. ]

My eyes ran over that short description again and again, continuously. The status window blurred once more. I blinked my eyes hard–once, twice.

“Bringing, him back is a viable option then. But, I’d been told that, as an existence that had already been cut off… That it would be impossible…….”

“Since it means that any connection he’d had to this world had been lost, ordinarily, it would be impossible to bring him back safely because of the resistance it would encounter. But that just means that the process needs to be reinforced by a power greater than that exerted by the resistance.”

A greater power. I couldn’t even quite fathom how immense it would have to be. Even for the Transcendents, if they attempted to enter a different World without preparation, it’d been said that the majority of their power would be taken away. So that meant that, at minimum, it would require a power great enough to contest them to safeguard Yoohyunie, to keep him protected.

If that was possible,. To bring him back whole.

“T-then, right now, at once–!”

“But, appa.”

Golden eyes looked straight into my own.

“It can protect this world, too.”

My racing heart slowed, settling. I’d been trying to avoid thinking about it. The fact that, if it was a strength great enough to bring back my dongsaeng, that it should be capable of comparable feats as well.

“Chatterbox is raising a ruckus in the System, and the Innocuous King is carrying out a methodical destruction of the Dungeons. Left this way, it’s only a matter of time before appa’s World starts feeling the repercussions, too. Since every World possesses the power to rebuff invasion, but there’s a limit to that. Once the Innocuous King chips away at enough of it to cause the protective strength to weaken, the other Transcendents will find it easier to interfere.”

“...alright.”

The Changeling’s voice flitted through my ears without properly registering, but I still nodded my head perfunctorily.

“I’ve got to stop it, is what you’re saying.”

“There’s no reason for appa to have to be the one taking responsibility.”

“Since it’s me that they’re after. It’s because of me. Why are they even going so far. The Jellyfish bastard. Shouldn’t it be paying a price.”

“It’s nearly guaranteed she’ll end up paying a very hefty one. It seems that she’s caught on, most likely. Since Sigma becoming ‘real’ was made possible by the Nurturer’s strength.”

“...what? Since I, who’d entered with my real body, had acknowledged him, because of that.”

The Changeling shook its head.

“The recognition does have an influence to an extent, yes. But even if it’s to a lesser degree than me, Sigma also has ‘a changeling’s nature’. Appa ‘raising’ him in that respect, held the bigger impact. Enough to enable him to change into becoming ‘actualized’. Though she probably hasn’t pinpointed the exact reason why, the Innocuous King has likely picked up on the fact that appa’s very special.”

It was because of that, that she was still forging ahead even with the prospect of falling asleep for several hundred years or losing a non-insignificant portion of her strength looming over her, the Changeling said.

“...so, in the end, it’s because of me. You should’ve just told me to save the world from the start, in that case.”

Resentment seeped out, despite myself. A small hand touched my cheek. Though it was faintly chilly, it still felt soft.

“It’s okay to end things after doing what appa wants, too. It’s a World that would have fallen to ruin. You don’t need to burden yourself over it any further.”

Having recovered my dongsaeng, and brought him into my arms. That it would be fine to end like that. Yeah–originally, that’s how it should have ended. Having returned to Yoohyunie’s side, without ever having been able to leave the Dungeon.

Just like that.

“...because there’s, too many people waiting.”

Though there shouldn’t have been anything. Though I wouldn’t have had anything to regret, if it’d been pre-regression.

“You’re aware too, right. There’s a person who’s promised me he wouldn’t change. He’ll spurn it this time, too. Since he’s someone who’ll at least keep his promises.”

He should continue to wait, right. As promised.

“Noah-ssi, too. Even if I can’t do much for him, at the very least, I don’t want to be the one to leave him first. I want to continue to support him from behind.”

He, who was still young, still fledgling–how he might change, I didn’t know either. But when he had to venture out after a respite, even if he misstepped or made the wrong choice, I wanted to at least become a base to where he could return. To reassure him that it was still alright, that he could do what he wished to do.

“Yerimie’s still immature, too. And I’d promised to raise the elemental for her, besides. When she’s only just started to enjoy coming into her own, as of late.”

I didn’t want to let things come to an end here. When she was only going to continue soaring higher, going forward, to heights I couldn’t even conceive.

“Myungwoo should be fine, but he’d be worried about me. Doing nothing but continuing to make him worry, that’s not okay, right. When he’s probably waiting outside. With Chirpie and Velare, too. As well as the other humans, and magical beasts.”

I’d have to show him how Eunhae had evolved. And in addition to that, when the Reprobates weren’t even that trustworthy, I felt reluctant to leave Myungwoo to them.

“Peace, too. He’s always trailing after me, as loyal as anything, y’know. If he’d been captured and brought over on the basis of his usability as a mount, at the very least, shouldn’t I take responsibility. Isn’t that proper. And, not to mention.”

Above all else.

“...Yoohyunie’s, my dongsaeng too.”

A dongsaeng who’d confided how happy he was, that he could live together with me like before. And he smiled so freely, nowadays. With that face, that I’d been unable to look upon for so many years. Just barely twenty, and before, only twenty-five.

And then.

“...it’s been, more gratifying.”

For myself as well, in the present. Even though I’d already dug a grave in my heart. Even then. Even then, I’d started to want to live a little bit more.

So, as I’d wanted.

“As you wish.”

The Changeling said. A small silvery dragon with fairy wings took form before me.

The place where I wished to return to. My house in the present disappeared. To somewhere unknown, beyond the thick roiling fog.

“I’d been waiting!”

The Innocuous King beamed.

- - - - -

(1) (어린) 마나의 샘

(2) [ 환상 요정용종 - 체인질링 현재 스탯 등급 ? 성장 가능 스탯 등급 ? 최적화 초기 스킬 당신이 바라는 대로(?) 획득 ]

(3) [완벽한 양육자(L) 세계적으로 뛰어난 강자를 키워낸 양육자의 증명. 그 자신의 과거 능력치가 피양육자의 현재 능력치+100% 이상이기에 더더욱 완벽하다.]

‘i wish people would stop calling any <beautiful and pure love> as ‘순애’ without cause… the ‘순’ in ‘순애’ is ‘death(순)’...it’s when you die because of love, that it’s called ‘순애’..... a 순애보 is a story where you lose your life for the sake of love……’

‘ah…so, the word ‘순애’ appears to registered with two definitions to begin with. 순애(殉愛): sacrificing(offering up) everything for [the sake of one’s] love 순애(純愛): a pure and innocent love source 표준국어대사전’

- 240화, Han Yoohyun’s World (3)

‘...han yoohyun has a particularly pure Fire ki, you see...’

- geunseo-nim’s afterword, han yoohyun excerpts

+(Q&A)

Q) if, in the first half of the novel, as yoojinie had imagined–if yoojinie had used the Wish Stone to wish for ‘Awakened’ and ‘Dungeons’ to disappear, would it really have come true?

A) as the Wish Stone is an Item that is tied to the System, it is unable to overcome the ‘hurdle’ of the System^^ in addition, it is impossible to block off the influences of a Source from a World. if he’d asked for a wish that entailed ‘Awakened and Dungeons disappearing’, he would have received either a notification message that it’s impossible, or it would’ve been only the ‘Awakening’ system and Dungeons interface that would’ve disappeared. for Hunters, their information windows would no longer be accessible, and instead of being confined to the Dungeons, monsters would’ve begun popping out directly [into the world]. turning back time, too, only applied to the World in which han yoojin existed, and did not extend to affect the ‘time’ of the Cosmos.

+(Q&A)

Q) excluding han yoojin, who do the gyeol-seol-byeol babies like the most?

A) han gyeol’s is love-hate, but he cares for sung hyunjae despite himself. han seol and han byeol like each other ^^

+(Q&A)

Q) if han yoojin’s kids who were born from magic stones underwent genetic testing enabled by modern science&technology, would the results show yoojinie as a biological relative?

A) as the species are different, straightforward genetic testing results would be difficult to obtain ^^ as han yoojin’s blood is mixed in, if you were able to separate only the human portion out and test that, then they would in fact appear as his children. for han seol’s case, the results would indicate that he takes after han yoohyun as well. yet, as the human portion is a mere fraction of the whole, at present, it would take very careful and thorough testing to show a distant relation between [han yoojin and the children].

+(Q&A)

Q) would it be possible to hear a bit more in-depth about the circumstances that allowed han yoojin be able to use diarma’s Skills, such as the magical mount synthesis, mind dimension Skill etc.?

A) diarma's ability is akin to a subtype of the ‘perfect nurturer’. it possessed the ability to rear new dragonoid beings via synthesis. because the dragonfolk-synthesis Skill was something diarma possessed prior to becoming a Transcendent, it was simply a case of the Skill having evolved alongside its owner; its original Skill grade ranked below that of the ‘perfect nurturer’. additionally, the title that han yoojin gained from defeating the lauchitas–which allows him to suppress curse-poison type dragons–worked in tandem with the ‘perfect nurturer’ title, which is how he was able to acquire diarma's ability. regarding the possible combinations: with the buff provided by the ‘perfect nurturer’ title, it came to transcend the limits of race as well. it would have been impossible under normal circumstances, but you could say that the circumstances were serendipitous ^^

+(Q&A)

Q) the optimized Skill(?) picked up on by the sapling Skill the main character uses, can it be hereditary? for example, if one of the parents has a talent for agriculture cultivation, and they happen to Awaken and develop a Skill related to that, I was wondering if their child may Awaken to possess something similar

A) as innate proclivities and temperment, etc., do affect Skill development, there is a chance that such a thing could be passed down. though the humans in the novel don’t really have a particular ‘characteristic’ for their race(human), in the case of the dokkaebi, ‘flying’ and ‘transformation’ are akin to ‘basic skills’ innate to their race. if it’s a household that has a particular proclivity for x, then their offspring will probably have a high chance of displaying a corresponding or identical Skill^^ however, unless one Awakened fairly early, as what carries a greater influence is ‘life experience’ rather than ‘innate(born) disposition’, there are many cases of one acquiring a Skill with completely different properties than their parents’.

+(Q&A)

Q) is there a plot-related reason that yoojinie is unable to use the sapling Skill to look at his own stat window?

A) as a supporting aspect of the Caregiver title, the sapling Skill can only be used on others who hold the potential to become a candidate for ‘caregiving’. to be precise, it is a limit imposed by the System; and, should Han Yoojin make the decision to protect and look after himself as well, he would be able to overcome the bounds of the System and use it on himself, too.

+(Q&A)

Q) lastly, in the game that you released before, there were lines of dialogue from sung hyunjae and moon hyuna that mentioned han yoojin’s comfortably smiling face being a rare sight, and that witnessing him smile/laugh so easily was nice to see; in the main story, is yoojinie’s happily smiling face being a scarcely-seen occurrence something that’s an established detail..??

A) right when he had regressed, he was still able to smile and laugh easily, but after finding about the twenty-five y.o. han yoohyun, a shadow couldn’t help but fall over him. at first, sung hyunjae and moon hyuna assumed it was because of the kidnapping, transcendents, and everything else that had been going on, but later realized there was something additional going on behind the scenes.

+(Q&A)

Q) if they were to sketch a family portrait, i was wondering who gyeol, seol, and byeol might end up drawing, in that case.

A) all three of them would include dongsaeng, hyung, oppa, han yoojin and han yoohyun, bak yerim, peace and chirpie, velare, irin, sanho etc.–the people and animals that they live with–in their drawings. even walnut^^ in han gyeol’s case, he might cram a small sung hyunjae in a corner after much deliberation. aside from those, noah, moon hyuna, kang soyoung etc. might show up, depending on their interactions. han byeol in particular is the type to just draw a bunch at once as they come to mind. when it comes to the things that they like, han gyeol’s is han yoojin; han seol’s is han byeol; and han byeol would have appa, hyung, oppa, uncle, auntie, peace, and a bunch more others in the drawing besides.

+(Q&A)

Q) as you’d replied before that sung hyunjae and his parents would occasionally do check-ins via phone calls, which party tends to be the one who calls first? when they call… what sort of things do they talk about?? and when was the last time sung hyunjae met with his parents face-to-face? does hyunjae go out of his way to make sure to do something for his parents’ birthdays as well? i also wondered if they’d ever been kidnapped or threatened for being sung hyunjae’s parents!

A) typically three times a year, usually on the new year and on birthdays, he’ll give them a call. sung hyunjae’s parents are almost never the ones to initiate contact. the three only communicate at the bare minimum necessary to maintain basic politeness^^ the amount of times they’ve met up in person can be counted on one hand, in accordance with the parents’ wishes. on his parents’ birthdays, sung hyunjae will only make the wellness check call, and vantis is the one who prepares the gifts. the sole person whose birthday sung hyunjae would make sure to personally attend to year after year, was song taewon’s. pre-regression, he’d sent a present to han yoojin as a birthday obligation as well, but it never reached him. aside from that, due to feeling sympathetic about her birthday being overshadowed by his own birthday celebration, he’s seen to a gift for kang soyoung once, before letting vantis or the secretarial office take over thereafter. as they’d been securely sequestered away, there was no danger posed to them. because sung hyunjae had already maintained a distance from them pre-Awakening, and the parents had ended up thoroughly hidden somewhere far overseas, they are nearly impossible to track down.

+(Q&A)

Q) hello author-nim! pre-regression, why did sung hyunjae end up leaving for switzerland, specifically? it seemed as though he’d traversed through various countries before deciding on switzerland; i was curious why, out of countless countries, he ended up choosing switzerland! additionally, would it be alright to ask approximately how many times sung hyunjae had been re-planted…??

A) song taewon’s influence was fairly significant. having taken custody of song taewon’s miscarried Plundering(掠奪), he(shj) sought a place that would suit song taewon and be a place he(stw) could live peacefully+was far away from korea. it was also the backdrop of the postcard he would send han yoojin, too. however, he wasn’t set on switzerland from the beginning, and so long as it was an idyllic location somewhere in the Alps, he wouldn’t have cared where they ended up living. aside from the fact that it’s in the triple digits, i’ll leave the exact number to your imagination ^^

+(Q&A)

Q) is august 30th the day the current world’s sung hyunjae was ‘planted’ there, or is it the original sung hyunjae’s actual birth date?? i’m also curious about why sung hyunjae places so much importance on birthday (parties), and if there are any other details you paid special attention to re:the characters’ birthdays!

A) the birthday that appears in the novel is the date he was ‘planted’. because the original world had a different planetary size, rotation, and orbital speed, the method used to calculate days was also different. however, crescent moon endeavors to plant sung hyunjae at a similar window of time to his original birthday. this is because fulfilling the ‘conditions’ as closely as possible also helps facilitate the planting process. proportionate to how strong sung hyunjae’s amour propre runs, he thinks that the day of his birth must absolutely be celebrated. as a result, even when he feels as apathetic as could be, he endeavors not to miss the occasion. for a similar reason, he’s pretty good about remembering the birthdays of those around him and doing something for them too, if only compulsorily^^ because of this, he feels sorry about kang soyoung’s birthday situation. as kang soyoung is aware of this, she’ll push her luck with things that she wouldn’t ordinarily be able to get away with on the day after her birthday.

+(Q&A)

Q) i wanted to ask if my understanding of what happens when sung hyunjae gets planted(?) is correct! sung hyunjae mentioned that the method crescent moon seemed to utilize was to extract an individual with a similar ‘(existential) value’ from the world, and then to swap him, as ‘an existence outside of the world’, with them; just like yoojinie had wondered, i’m curious who that person who was found worthy of ‘exchange’ with sung hyunjae might have been, and what had happened to that individual! additionally: if the ‘swap’ is made via the method of ‘granting a wish’–then, for sung hyunjae’s parents, who had wished for a child, when sung hyunjae was suddenly ‘planted’ on earth in a fully-grown state, were they forcibly reprogrammed to register him as a child they had raised from the beginning?

A) by erasing sung hyunjae’s memories and concealing his accumulated power, crescent moon was able to disguise sung hyunjae’s existential value(존재 가치) as being low-ranked. ordinarily, this wouldn’t be possible, and it’s extremely delicate work besides; but as an artificial Source who had amassed a considerable amount of strength, since there were no existences who could serve as an ‘equivalent’ to sung hyunjae, this was her only recourse. because his existential value was in a lowered state, sung hyunjae was able to be ‘planted’ through exchange via the wishes made to crescent moon. the wishes differed from world to world, and aside from wishes for a child, there were wishes for a hero in a time of war, someone with particular talents, an exquisite beauty, a leader of the herd, etc. as well. their wishes did come true, but they usually didn’t play out in the way they’d hoped for ^^ re:sung hyunjae’s parents, it was a case of a child who previously hadn’t existed suddenly appearing, where they were nevertheless compelled to believe that they had raised him to begin with. but because of the repugnance they experience due to his ‘other-ness’ + the repulsion caused by a born s-rank, the dissonance caused them to spiral into disarray.

+(Q&A)

Q) was sung hyunjae’s household well-off to begin with? if so, how wealthy are they?

A) they were well-off enough that they could afford to send their son overseas to study, in addition to hiring a highly competent butler^^ as, around the time that sung hyunjae began to gain a proper foothold and become more active, they had already relinquished to him his designated inheritance, seeing him live well, they were able to relieve themselves of the guilt associated with abandoning a child. though they still want to maintain a personal distance from him, as they are able to think of him somewhat as ‘their son’ with the physical distance in place, they have a relationship where they occasionally exchange calls asking after the other. they currently live overseas, and hope that sung hyunjae will continue to live well, without occasion to turn his attention towards them.

+(Q&A)

Q) in ch588 by munpia standards, could i ask where yoojinie ended up hiding eunhae?

A) at that time, it was worn on his bicep. he switches up the place he conceals eunhae a little each time^^

[racefortheironthrone]

Newsom's UI Veto Is a Sign of CA's Dysfunction on UI

Introduction:

While I'm not yet up to a full blogpost, I thought I'd chime in on social media to buttress a point that my colleague Erik Loomis made in regards to Gavin Newsom's veto of the Unemployment Insurance strike bill. While Erik is absolutely correct that Newsom's veto is a pretty nakedly anti-union move, (especially in the wake of a major entertainment industry strike in which management attempted to use the threat of eviction and foreclosure to break the union), I think the veto also reflects the dysfunction in the California Unemployment Insurance system.

California's UI System:

Back when I was a freelance policy analyst in grad school, I had the opportunity to write about a wide range of topics in social and economic policy - and it just so happened that one of those topics was unemployment insurance.

One of the problems with the U.S' social insurance system is that, because UI is a joint Federal-state program that's financed by state payroll taxes that are then forgiven against Federal taxation (or in the case of the pandemic or the Great Recession, Federal loans), there is a powerful incentive for states to under-tax and under-finance their UI systems and rely instead on the Federal backstop to keep the system ticking over.

For all of California's progressive reputation, it actually ranks towards the bottom of the national league tables when it comes to underfunding its UI system:

"Unemployment benefits in California are funded by a payroll tax on businesses, but the tax is so low and generates so little revenue that the state had to borrow $20 million from the federal government to provide benefits during the pandemic. In a veto message, Mr. Newsom said that $302 million in interest is due on the federal loan in September alone. “Now is not the time to increase costs or incur this sizable debt,” he said." (source)

To be fair, California is not absolutely terrible - it's not Texas or Mississippi or Alabama - and a lot of its current predicament has to do with how hard California was hit by the COVID-19 pandemic, but even in good times, California taxes itself so lightly that it routinely owes the Federal government UI money. This creates another reason/excuse for the state government to not follow the California Labor Federation's lead and transform the UI system into something that can fight not just poverty but all forms of economic exploitation.

State Capacity:

Now, to my mind, this only makes it more imperative for the state to get its act together - and a big part of that is adopting labor's proposal for decoupling strikes and starvation through the UI system. As I see it, that goes hand in hand with raising minimum benefit levels, such that UI plus strike pay should allow people to live with dignity even during a long strike of 5-6 months duration, improved administration so that people don't have to wait three weeks to actually get their hands on their own money, and improved financing so that the system as a whole can actually work as an automatic stabilizer in economic crises.

To me, this is the essence of community unionism: we work to improve the lives of our members, and in so doing improve the lives of the entire community.

[honeycloudz]

Perfect Storm | Chapter One: Rough Beginnings

Content Warnings: the Haitani's plant a wet sloppy one on ur hands, reader is nervous for only a little, brief mentions of drug trading and violence (its Bonten what do you expect), Sanzu insults you a lot </3, he calls you "princess" as an insult cuz hes weird like that

Back to- Perfect Storm Chapters

Next- Chapter Two: Klutz

It was that afternoon when it all began.That late rainy afternoon is when your entire life changed. When you got notice that you were going from a prominent, high level Bonten assassin to the top of the ranks in only a few short weeks (props to you going above and beyond on your missions), it came as a surprise to you. Feeling dreadfully anxious, your hands had a slight tremble to them as you gripped the steering wheel driving home to get prepared. To say you were nervous was an understatement. 

With anxious excitement running rampant through your veins, you set down your most expensive dress at the time, (which pales compared to the salary you make now, having been a Bonten executive for almost a full year), and hop in the shower as you braced yourself to meet the most powerful and dangerous men in all of Japan. 

A meeting had been set up the night you were made aware of your promotion, as you pulled into the Bonten Headquarters parking lot, already seeing a reserved spot with your name on it. Stepping out of the vehicle, pulling down the ends of your tight dress that had ridden up your thigh, you began making the treacherous journey to the elevator. Almost getting lost in the big establishment. Adrenaline coursing through your body, you exit the elevator and begin your walk.

The executives gathered in the meeting room awaiting your arrival when they heard the click-clack of heels on their expensive marble flooring, signaling you were nearby.

“Try not to sleep with her” murmured an annoyed Kokonoi, who was looking over at the infamously seductive Haitani brothers who looked more excited than they should have been for your arrival. 

This made Sanzu laugh a little too loud, “Sleep with her? I can't imagine anyone wanting to tap that”. He denied, insulting your character unbeknownst to you. 

Confused, his coworkers turned to him with raised eyebrows and questioned him over his behavior. He hadn't even met you, only seeing low quality video footage of you that they all had seen during their background check. Finding out you were in the high ranks of Brahman. 

To Sanzu, you being in Brahman during your youth years was enough of a reason for him to despise you without having known you. He hated Brahman and the brief mention of it was enough to set him off- so having you in the room with him was going to drive him insane.

Anything closely associated with Brahman immediately put a bad taste in his mouth. Not wanting to explain this, he had told them to ‘shut up’, displeasure obvious in his voice. They were about to argue back when they heard the clicking of heels louder than before suddenly stop when the big wooden doors were opened to reveal you, the very definition of sex appeal, they thought. Curiosity peaked, they analyzed you. 

Stepping into the big room, you saw a big table where they were all seated, sipping their whiskey, gin, or wine, eyeing your every move. You stood still at the entrance of the door, glancing around the room with a cocky smile on your face, confidence radiating off of you. Making eye contact with each of them you continued to walk into the room, scanning it till your eyes met an empty chair.

You had strutted in here with the most confidence to prove you were worthy enough to be in their powerful presence. However, in reality you felt as if you were going to collapse and melt away when all their eyes were on you. 

Afterall, you were in a room with the most dangerous men in all of Japan.

Ran was the first to break the tension, standing on his feet taking a few short steps to reach you, due to his height he didn't need to make many. You looked up at him as he bowed his head slightly down for you, bringing your hand to his lips and giving it a kiss. 

You quickly thanked him and took a seat at the end of the big wooden table, next to a shirtless man with a scar running down one of his eyes. He glanced at you and sent you a sympathetic smile, knowing you were probably very anxious sitting in a room with deadly men as if he wasn't one of them. You nodded down at him and smiled and turned to Mikey, the well known leader of Bonten who began to speak. 

“As you all know, we have had trouble with a gang from the west, constantly attacking our men and stealing our drugs to sell them. Y/n, was sent on a mission to stop the drug shipment, Not only did she stop it, but she subdued them completely by killing their leader”. Mikey paused to breathe while the others turned their focus back to you, putting all their undivided attention on you, making you more nervous. Trying your hardest not to show the tremble of your hands you tucked them under the table, when Mikey began to speak again, they all focused on their leader, making you thankful for him.

 All except one pair of eyes. You felt them bore holes into the side of your face. You turned to meet this pair of eyes and you were met with cold blue eyes staring into you. As if the pink headed owner of these eyes was sizing you up. You noted the scowl on the man's face, wondering why he was looking at you with such hatred. 

You decided if you wanted to live through this meeting, you needed to prove you were tough, that you were worthy of being a Bonten executive, plus you had thought that you didn't deserve this treatment no matter who he was, so you returned the favor, looking him up and down at him with disgust on your face.

To say Sanzu was appalled at your behavior was an understatement. Never, since the day he became Bontens number two, had anyone ever degraded him with such disrespect. Taking in the shock written all over his features you were satisfied and tore your eyes away from his to put your focus back on Mikey who continued to speak about what you've accomplished. 

“From today onwards, Y/n will be the fourth executive.” As soon as Mikey said those words the men shot up from their seats arguing against each other for or against your placement. You heard the purple haired man that had kissed your hand whine childishly about how you were in a higher position than he was. The man next to him, with the longer purple hair and the same infamous Bonten tattoo on his neck, rolled his eyes at the man’s immature antics. The sharp eyed, white haired man with the Bonten logo dyed in the roots of his hair, sat across from them and argued back about how ‘you'd be a good asset to the team’ and how it ‘doesn't matter if she’s in a higher position’. 

The scar-eyed man seated next to you sighed and pinched the sides of his forehead in irritation “If you actually submitted all your paperwork on time and did your job right, maybe you’d be in a higher position” sighed the man. The short purple haired man gasped and put a hand to his chest very dramatically. The sight of this made you laugh which made an already resentful Sanzu more galled. 

“The fuck are you laughing at?” Sanzu’s rudely asked question made the room fall silent as the men analyzed you, awaiting your reaction. 

You turned your eyes to the man again and scoffed at his remark, “Who the fuck do you think youre talking to?” you spat back. Nervousness slowly being replaced with irritation, you talked once again, “You’ve had a stick up your ass since I came in the room.” you paused, leaning into the table, propping one of your arms on it, angry eyes fixated on him.

Laughs, whistles, ‘oooh feisty’ and ‘i like her’ were heard around the room as you held tensioned eye contact with the ill mannered man. “You're in a room filled with a bunch of criminals, sweetheart, you sure youre not just one of our whor-” Just as he was about to continue, Mikey leered his eyes to his second in command.

“Sanzu, stop”. Like an owner telling their trained dog to stop barking, the man whose name you now know is Sanzu, stopped talking to you. Luckily for him, if he finished that sentence, you would've been up in an instant, striking to kill. Mikey was the only one that had noticed one of your hands creeping to your purse which he assumed was to grab a weapon and so he quickly shut his man up before he made an enemy out of you. 

The room fell silent once again.

“This decision is final, Y/n will be our fourth executive, those who disagree, speak now.” You looked around the room, noticing none of them would dare argue against their leader. 

Mikey continued, “Y/n, this is Sanzu, my right hand man” Sanzu, did not return your eye contact this time. “Next to you is Kakucho, the third executive. '' The man next to you smiled again and waved, you reciprocated this, deciding to shake his big hand firmly. “Across from you are the Haitani brothers, Ran and Rindou.” The brothers stood from their seats to reach across the table. 

Ran, the man that had so charmingly kissed your hand when you entered, kissed it again while Rindou grabbed your other hand to kiss that one. As they pulled their lips away from your hands you laughed at their attempt to woo you.

 Mikey began again, “That's Kokonoi, he’s the main money maker for us” you turned yourself to face Kokonoi, taking his hand into yours and shaking it, thanking him for his earlier statement he made about you. He pulled his hand away, liking the feeling of your smaller hand in his. “Back there is Takeomi and Mochi.” Mikey finished introducing everyone to you as you looked into the back of the room to see two older, more mature looking men, smoking and waving to you. 

“Sanzu, Show Y/n to her office.” Mikey demanded, attempting to get you both to get along. 

Sanzu looked over to you with an artificial smile on his face, “Lets go, Y/n”.  

Unsure why he was treating you with disrespect, you forced a venomous smile on your face as well, “Sure, Sanzu”. You both walked out, refusing to look at one another while he escorted you to your new office. 

Which was right across from his.

You lay in your bed, sleepiness slowly creeping up on you while thinking back on this memory. You laughed, remembering how nervous you were to meet them, knowing now that they're all a bunch of dorks who are loyal to one another and would do anything to protect each other's backs, even if they weren't willing to admit it. 

All except one, one who has been hellbent on making you miserable as you returned the favor. One, who's been working hard on trying to get you to quit, or go as far as try endlessly to get you fired. One who’s been openly insulting you to your face since your first day- Sanzu Haruchiyo.

You groaned in frustration just at the thought of the man. Youve been an executive for almost a year and he's still dead set on pushing you out. Why he hated you will continue to be a mystery, choosing not to ask him yourself, not wanting it to seem as if he got to you. Rindou had told you he and the others didn't know themselves, so you couldn't even ask one of them. You were sure one of these days you were going to murder him, tired of the mistreatment he gave you. 

However you were used to returning the same disrespect he had given. You had titled him “your worst enemy”, making an uncaring-of-your-rant Kokonoi tell you how petty that was.

Of course, you and Sanzu have grown accustomed to throwing insults at one another, day and night, never actually referring to each other by your names but rather only endless spews of ‘bitch, ugly, stupid’ coming from you and ‘annoying, useless’- and the one that made you the most outraged; ‘princess’. 

And of course, Sanzu caught on quickly at how much you despised this nickname, and to your dismay this label stuck. He had first used the nickname when he overheard you just a few days ago sitting on the kitchen counter, talking to Kakucho who was making his coffee in the shared kitchen between the Bonten Executives. 

He listened to you speak about how ‘you wanted to go clothes shopping because it's been a while since you had gone’ and how ‘all your other clothes are blood stained’. To which he let out a loud and obnoxious laugh catching both your and Kakuchos attention. Kakucho, knowing an argument was going to break out between the both of you, sighed and quickly escaped the scene, abandoning his unfinished coffee. 

“What's so funny?” You questioned him with venom in your tone.

 He spun around to face you, swirling the teaspoon in his mug, grinning at you. “Oh, nothing” he sighed out contently, “s’ just that princess here is so pure”, he paused, putting emphasis on the word pure before continuing, “so pampered”, he paused again. “That she's scared of having a little blood on her clothes.” he mockingly pouted, nodding his head and scrunching his eyebrows, giving you an annoyingly sarcastic face.

Sanzu has always insulted you, and you always insulted him. But he’s never called you outright weak or even implied it up until this point. And you were infuriated. He looked at you once again smiling so cocky, realizing how much of a blow this gave to your ego. He enjoyed riling you up, seeing you so mad, knowing the only thought left in your head was ‘How dare he?!’

You hopped off the counter walking towards him with your fists clenched and stood right at his feet looking up at his irritating smile, Oh how badly you wanted to wipe that smirk off his face and you would've, if it weren't for Bonten rules against in-fighting, but the things you would do to him if it didnt risk your rank as a Bonten Executive. “Watch your mouth.” you threatened staring up at him only a few inches away from his face. He looked down at you not saying anything, but enjoying watching you get so riled up. 

He bent down closer to your face and you could feel his breath on your cheek when he leans in closer right up to your ear and lets out an airy and short “hah”, that makes your skin tickle under him, a chill runs down your spine as you shiver, hoping he didn't notice and take it as a sign of weakness. 

Unfortunately for you, he did notice.

“What's wrong?”- he whispers right at your ear, you swear you can hear the smirk on his face with the way he speaks, “princess”. 

You both jump out of the position you're in when you hear a fake awkward cough coming from the other side of the room. “The meeting started five minutes ago.” sighed out an annoyed Ran, startling the both of you. 

You turn to Sanzu who's on his way out and curse at him under your breath, grabbing your full mug, pushing past him quickly and making your way to the meeting room, promising yourself you'd get your revenge on him sometime.

He hadn't stopped calling you ‘princess’ since the nickname stuck only a few days ago. You groaned, laying in your bed unable to sleep. 

‘Unlucky me’ you thought, annoyed at the fact that it was that nickname that stuck. You preferred him to call you stupid or anything else but princess. You hated the implication of it. 

You also hated the fact that, Sanzu of all people, was the last thought on your mind before you crashed for the night.

A/n: NEED SANZU TO BREED ME BUT ALSO THANK YOU FOR ALL THE SUPPORT ON MY RINDOU FIC! I ONLY STARTED WRITING LIKE 2 WEEKS AGO AND THE SUPPORT ON ALL OF MY FICS HAS BEEN OVERWHELMING IN ALL THE BEST WAY <3 thank you so much and omg, i got my first two requests to be added to the tag list <33 thank you so much!! any criticism and feedback is welcome, i hope you guys enjoyed this mwah

TagList: @gojoscumslut , @farrlord , @bontensbabygirl