#Rails 4.1

[kitsunabi]

Bad writing I can forgive, we’ve all been there. Bad writing bc of shitty reasons, ok now I’m disappoint and angy

[intomybubble]

NEW EVENT PULLS!

This is probably one of my luckier pulls recently in Obey Me. Along with 2 of the event cards, I got another 2 SSRs (standard dupes but w/e). Too bad I was too slow to take a screenshot before they poofed into raven lol

[lameow-l]

called it!!!

childe is getting another weekly boss??? KINGGGGGGGG

[everparanoid]

Make me lose my breath, make me water ┃Wriothesley

pairing: f!reader x wriothesley

genre: fluff , NSFW

rating: 18+

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT !

tags: Cunnilingus, consent is hot, Reader is from Natlan, cuffs used inappropriately, Body Worship, My First Smut, Fontaine is France but it's not but it is, PWF, PWP, Mutual Pining, No use of y/n, Reader is Not Traveler (Genshin Impact), Creampie, biting kink, Written After 4.1 Update, Minor spoilers for 4.0 quest, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Light Bondage, light orgasm denial

wordcount: 6.1k

synopsis: The notorious Duke of the fortress of Meropide hasn't been on his A-game lately, and it shows.

Originally posted: 25.10.23 on AO3

a/n: I am now reposting my AO3 stuff onto tumblr. If you know me....no, you don't. ;) Also check out my AO3 for more wriothesley fics.

Song Inspiration: 'Water' by Tyla.

Three quick knocks rattled the door to his large office. The sound echoed up to the second floor where his desk resided.

“Come in,” Wriothesley said not looking up from his papers.

Wriothesley was a busy man. Well, being the Duke of the self-running, man-powered Fortress of Meropide wasn’t an easy job. It wasn’t exhausting either, but that was beside the point.

He took a slow prolonged sip from his teacup. The second sip in the last hour; the flavoured water had long since cooled from the general chill in the office. Not that he could feel anything beyond the normal chill of the underwater Fortress; and with the added benefit of his cryo vision he considered himself well-suited for the climate. That didn’t mean he didn’t miss the sun. Although, he could see the sun whenever he found a reason to leave the fortress, which he often didn’t.

He sighed for the fifth time that hour.

“I hear you’ve been doing that a lot,” You said ascending the spiralled staircase.

He paused and lowered his teacup, placing it on the small pile of report papers he was using as a mat. One side of his lips raised threatening to become a half smile. He quickly wiped it away.

“Oh? Have I now?” he asked.

“Yes,” you said, your voice smooth and confident. “I think I’m going to have to report you to Sigewinne.”

“Am I to assume she isn’t the one who sent you?”

His eyes met yours as you arrived atop the stairs, a hand on your hip and that sassy look in your eyes that he had grown fond of. He realised now why he had been so distracted.

He missed you.

You often frequented the fortress. First as a commissioned messenger between Wriothesley and Neuvillette, then a ‘convict’, and after that a friend and now… he didn’t know, but he wasn’t going to complain about the company. It was nice having someone as into tea as he was. Not that he would admit it, but it got lonely in the Fortress sometimes. More so since he met you.

“What? You afraid of a couple of stickers?”

“You know about that?” he grumbled, glancing at the pile of crumpled Melusine stickers littering the side of his desk, freshly pulled off the back of his coat.

“I have ears everywhere, Your Grace,” you smirk, withholding the crucial fact that you were the culprit providing the stickers for Sigewinne and her Melusine friends. They paid you back in giggles and smiles, and just the joy on their small faces was enough for you.

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. You probably know more about what’s happening in my humble home than me,” he said. Only a half lie on his part. You had an aptitude for making tough things bend to your will. Him being the toughest of things in question. He dismissed the thought of you flashing that blinding smile at anyone other than him.

Your shoulders rose and fell as a melodic laugh left your lips and graced his ears. If he could keep your voice in a bottle, he would.

You shook your head and pushed off the railing. His attention remained on you as you took a seat on the settee a bit away from his desk.  His throat—as if he hadn’t just taken a sip of his cold tea— felt overwhelmingly dry. He cleared it gently and picked up his teacup.

“How’s the Traveler and Paimon?” he asked, taking a sip.

The flavoured water was colder. He needed to calm down lest he froze the entire thing. He imagined you would be the only one to find amusement in him sipping ice.

You crossed your legs, and your skirt rode up. He looked away respectfully, much to his dismay and the favour of his quickly deteriorating will. He didn’t remember when it happened. When he started seeing you as more than just the middle woman between Neuvillette and himself; more than just a pawn in this game against the fatui, but now he found himself knowing the way your cheek dimpled slightly only on your right cheek when you laugh; how the skin around your eyes crow when you yawn or squint; how you change to fix your posture every thirty minutes when you’re lost in a book, and your neck starts to get sore, and your lower back begs to be stretched out. He pulled himself out of his thoughts before they had a chance to spiral further.

“They send their regards and a thank you for your help with ‘the situation,’” you said making air quotes. You didn’t mention how you didn’t plan to return to them for a while, but some things were best left unsaid with Wriothesley.  

Wriothesley nodded and gestured for you to join him in for some tea.

“If you have some time, of course,” he finished.

“Of course, If you are offering,” you responded. 

You went to stand but Wriothesley beat you to it. Thankful for the excuse to busy himself with something other than your smouldering presence. If he was an icy avalanche, then you were like a raging inferno, melting him into warm water. Perhaps it had something to do with the pyro vision dangling from your hip. He glanced at the vision and caught a glimpse of your bare legs. He froze, curious about what colour you might be wearing underneath your skirt: black, white, blue, red? Instead, he was beyond relieved when he saw black shorts. He breathed a sigh. That’s so you.

“I can heat the pot, you know?” you say, growing increasingly more tired of his strange mood and equally as obscure silence. Never had Wriothesley sighed so much. Honestly, you never would have considered him a sigher; more a hmpher or a quiet snickering type.

You and everyone in Fontaine who had the pleasure or misfortune—mostly the misfortune—of knowing the Duke, knew that recently he had been off. In truth, your visit hadn’t been to express Neuvillette’s message (though that made a great cover). No, you were there because of a chain of strange letters from Sigewinne, given to you by an equally as annoyed Clorinde, telling you of the Duke’s bizarre behaviour. According to these letters, he was more attentive than usual. He had appeared around the fortress checking in on the production zones and the inmates an alarming number of four times in the last month, nearly causing several heart attacks amongst the inmates, which as a result caused Sigewinne to be on high alert from all the overworking; he hasn’t been partaking in as many fights in the ring, and he hasn’t been drinking as much tea.

It was the last two on the list that shocked you the most and was most of the reason why you were there now. Wriothesley not drinking tea? Was Fontaine’s archon a fraud?

Uncrossing your legs, you stood and approached him. Placing a hand on the teapot, you heated the water with your vision.

“Let me do that," you said.

You sounded more breathless than you had intended to, but being so close to him does that to you. He always managed to take your breath away, but you had stupidly thought that with time those senseless reactions would die upon learning more about the mysterious brutish duke. The way all crushes faded when the mystic i.e., the lack of information and the delusions of projection, disappeared. Instead, it seemed to have only worsened. A butterfly somersaulted in your stomach when you accidentally brushed your hand against his.

Wriothesley stiffened. The touch went straight to his gut.

“Why are you here?” he responded smoothly, crossing his arms over his broad chest. Not that he was concerned about why you were here—he couldn’t be happier—but you were supposed to be away for the next six months on a quest with the traveler to your home region, Natlan. Had Sigewinne called you back out of concern for him? He had to be more careful around the small nurse in the future.

“Your tea collection isn’t as depleted as usual,” you observed, staring into the box filled with other miniature boxes of tea, skilfully deflecting the question.

“An interrogation. You’re making me nervous,” he joked. “I am a busy man, I don’t always have time for tea.”

The look you fixed him with was not amused.

“You always drink at least three cups a day,” you said putting stress on the ‘at least.’ If it wasn’t tea, it would be a terrible addiction.

“Wow, you’re counting? I’m impressed.”

“Which flavour do you want?”  you said, ignoring him.

“The special blend.”

Without a second thought, you plopped the tea bag into the teapot and left it to brew.

It was your favourite, and that is why he chose it. He was more of a black tea or green tea kind of person, but the special blend he had made specifically for you. You didn’t know that though; you didn’t have to, he enjoyed hearing your quiet hums of happiness with each sip. It was great fodder for his late-night thoughts.

His heart warmed, as the skin around your eyes crowed the way he loved. Loved? He cleared his throat.

“You aren’t booking yourself as many fights. Which I would be happy about if I thought it didn’t directly correlate to why you’re acting so strange,” you lectured, and to him, you sounded like a particular short blue-haired Melusine.

“I can’t help but feel that you are worried about me,” he jested.

“As anyone would be about a friend,” you said.

Friend? Yes, that was what you were. Friends.

“Friends. Yes,” he agreed albeit stiffly.

You gave him a cautious side-eye unsure as to why his tone hurt you.

The word left a bitter taste in Wriothesley’s mouth and when you offered to fill his cup again, he accepted. Suddenly needing the soothing numbing effects of his tea more than ever. You topped up his cup before you poured the heated water into the teacup that had unintentionally become yours.

 Wriothesley didn’t let anyone else use it. It was superstitious really, and he didn’t consider himself a superstitious person. However, he worried that if he let anyone else use it you suddenly won’t come back one day. Not that you would be able to tell the difference if he did let someone else use the cup; all the teacups he owned looked exactly alike, but yours was different. It was a cup with a little chip on the rim near the handle from when you decided to have your tea with Neuvillette, Clorinde, the traveler and himself after the recent troubles with the Fatui. Your cup had chipped due to the heat of your hand; he could recall the horror on your face when he informed you how much each cup cost after letting you ramble on about owing him another cup.

You eventually fell into a comfortable silence sitting together on the settee.

“Clorinde has been visiting you a lot recently,” you said from behind your teacup. You took another sip.

Wriothesley recalled his earlier meeting with the champion dualist.

“Yes, we had some tea.”

“Really?”

“Jealous?”

You turned away.

“There is no need to be, I assure you,” he said, feeling a deep sense of relief at the way you seemed so bothered by his meeting with your mutual friend. The same friend who had been lecturing him about his ‘mutual’ feelings for you. Perhaps it was because of your reaction, that he realised that Clorinde might have been right. Or he was delusional? Maybe it was both.

Wriothesley placed his mug down on the coffee table. His hand brushed your bare thigh and you both jolt.

“Who says I am jealous?” You snapped, your lip twitching.

He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms.

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s because your lip twitches when you’re upset, and your pyro vision makes you heat the things around you without abandon. Your eyes lose that spark which makes them look like the spotlights guarding Meropide, and you refuse to look at me because you know I’ll see right through you. And I do. I see you.”

He took another sip from his tea, pretending to not notice your tea bubbling in your hand, and the crack growing on the side of the teacup.

“It’s not nice to make jokes like that, Your Grace,” you said nervously.

Your eyes darted about the office settling on anything but him. The bookshelves looked fuller than usual. Has he been reading more books?

“Indeed. It is not but come on you should know me better than that by now. I never joke about things like this,” he said. His voice was clear and sincere. “Is it so strange that I would want to give a few words of praise out of genuine adoration?”

Especially since he saw the way you’re reacting; he knew that it was real and not a fantasy from his misguided thoughts. He wouldn’t lose this opportunity to make his feelings clear. He was a straightforward guy, after all. When he knew what he wanted was within his reach he wouldn’t simply pass it up. It would be unjust. He wanted to watch you smile, to be the one that caused that smile; he wanted to be the first person you went to when something good happened in your life; he wanted to feel your skin and not just in passing touches; he wanted to let it scold him, to embrace the flames.

“Ah, it seems I have ruined the mood,” he said smoothly.

He stood.

You went to stand too, but when you did the boiling liquid in your teacup splashed your hand. You hissed and dropped it. The porcelain shattered against the metal ground; the liquid spilt everywhere.

Wriothesley sat back down on the settee and took your warm hand in his immediately not sparing a second to glance down at his soaked boots. They encased yours and worked to chill the burn; one of the many benefits of having a cryo vision. The two of you couldn't be any more different. Fire and ice co-exist? Impossible.  Unimaginable. Dangerous. The tenderness in which he held your hand sets your heart ablaze as if it wasn’t already. Had he been telling the truth? You knew the Duke better than most, and with that knowledge you know he wasn’t the type to lie about that, but did he mean it? Could he mean it?

“I’m sorry,” you said.

Wriothesley’s attention remained on the forming boil on your soft skin. He soothed it gently, trying not to give you frost-burn. Thankfully the natural heat of your skin stopped his cryo from hurting you further.

“For what?” he responded softly, bringing your hand up to his lips and breathing out cool frosty air. You felt like mush, and if it weren’t for the dull ache in your hand you would have snatched up the opportunity to run said hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. It always looked so soft and maybe he would allow you to touch it.

You pulled a face between flustered and self-loathing.

“That was one of your expensive teacups,” you managed to choke out.

He continued to blow cool air onto your hand.

“There will be other teacups,” he says, his lips barely an inch from your skin.

You wanted to melt on the spot.

“But—“

He sighed and said your name sternly looking up at you through the haze of dark lashes.

“Why would I worry about a teacup when you are hurt?” he asked and lowered your hand from his lips. “In any case, I should apologise for ruining a perfectly good meeting. If you have said all you need to say then—”

You waved your hands, flabbergasting him as you snatched them from his cool encasing, momentarily forgetting about the burn, and cutting him off mid-speech.

“No, you didn’t,” you yelped.

He half smiled at the scarlet tint of your ears, and taking your burnt hand back into his, he proceeded to gently apply cryo to the festering burn.

“Ah, is that so?” he chuckled. “Alright then, how will you pay me back?”

“Huh?”

“You broke my favourite teacup, after all. So—“ he said your name with a hint of mischief in his smooth voice. “How will you pay me back?”

“That’s not fair!” You straightened in your seat. “How can that be your favourite teacup when they all look the same? Are you just saying that to make me feel worse than I already do?”

He cocked a brow and tugged you forward. You fell into him, your free hand coming to rest on his lower abdominal. Your nose brushed his, and you felt his cool breath against your cheeks. His breathe smelt of spearmint. Your lips twitched and you tried to focus on the scar under his eye (the one you’ve always wanted to trace with the tips of your fingers) so as to not meet his icy blue stare, or to glance down at the obvious smirk on his lips. You wanted to kiss him; you could kiss him; would he let you kiss him?

Wriothesley watched your tongue dart out to swipe across your lips; he wanted to bite it; but he had more control than that. He had an image to uphold. The Duke was supposed to be fair and reasonable; he was supposed to lead by example and be a neutral figure of respect and reverence, not a brute without self-control. He pushed you back gently, hoping beyond hope that in your shock you haven’t noticed how hard he was.

“Kidding, of course,” he drawled.

Anger coloured your face and you punched his shoulder, half seriously. You hissed and shake your still very much wounded hand. You had been duelling partners for a while when you had spent a significant amount of time in the Fortress pretending to be a convict back when you were neither friend nor whatever you were now. He’d only agreed to it at the time because you managed to beat everyone and nearly him.

“You are breathtaking,” he muttered. “Come on let’s get you to Sigewinne.”

He stood and offered you his hand.

Your heart stuttered. Even though you weren’t native to Fontaine you were well-versed in their mother language, but even then, you didn’t believe your ears.

“What?” you asked.

He chuckled again, a deep and hearty sound.

“When will I stop doubting the ears of a seasoned traveler,” he said out loud although it was meant for his ears alone. He must have been mentioning your mutual friend, the blond traveler, and their small pixie pie companion, Paimon. You have been accompanying them on a few commissions and quests here and there, especially through Natlan. Which kept you away from Fontaine for significant periods of time, much to Wriothesley’s silent dismay.

However, he would never keep something so precious away from the light. He tried to keep a pet once—not that you were a pet—but he soon realised that it was wrong to keep something meant to be in the sun away from it. And if he couldn’t do it to a small animal then he definitely couldn’t do that to you. You were a traveller, not even native to Fontaine. Although you have made it clear countless amounts of times that Fontaine is your favourite region; he can’t help but feel like you weren’t meant to be chained to one place. He won’t be your administrator, the fortress won’t be your prison, and he couldn’t imagine keeping you in this cage with him. He refused to, even if his more selfish desires would have you cuffed to his desk where he could gaze upon you forever till you hated him and wished him gone.

“No, I want to talk first,” you said.

“I assure you we can talk after your hand has been seen too.”

“Wriothesley.”

Your tone went straight to his cock. You have never said his name, at least not his face. Even when you’re both around your mutual ‘friends’ you still have only ever called him ‘your grace.’ He wanted to hear you say his name again. He wanted to hear you say his name breathlessly, desperately, whilst you crumbled into each other. He cleared his throat and walked across his office hoping that the distance would stop you from noticing the obvious tent in trousers. He fiddled with the cuffs on his hips to distract himself and pulled at his tie.

“You really should go…to Sigewinne,” he said.

You approached him. He turned away from you facing a bookshelf. You brushed your fingertips to his forearm feeling the chilling aura around his skin. You expected him to pull away, for him to stop you from going past the point of no return, but he didn’t.

“Wriothesley,” you said his name again, this time with a wistful air. You don’t even realise you’re saying it. You never said it; not to him, only to the crisp cold darkness when your back arched on your sheets late into the night.

“Say it again,” he said.

“What?”

“My name. Say it again.”

Your eyes widened as you realised your mistake. You have always tried not to say his name to separate your lustful fantasies from the real man.

He faced you, capturing your gaze and with it your heart too in his glacial eyes that looked so warm. “Please.”

You couldn’t help but obey. His name slipped out in a hushed prayer: “Wriothesley.”

In turn, he said yours; just as quiet, just as wanting.

“You really should go to Sigewinne,” he said and ghosts his thumb along your jaw.

“What if I don’t want to?” you stepped closer. “What if I want to stay right here?”

His expression darkened.

“You shouldn’t,” he said with no bite behind it.

You didn’t budge.

“Can I kiss you?” You asked, sounding way more desperate than you intended. Before you could cringe at yourself, he had you caged in his arms, mouth cold against yours. He groaned when you bit down on this bottom lip, and for the first time, you felt his thick erection brush against your stomach.

None of your wildest fantasies could compare to the reality of kissing Wriothesley and any pain in your hand disappeared altogether. He kissed you like you’re the only thing tethering him to the earth; like you were his last gulp of air before he dissolved into primordial water.

He tugged on your shirt.

“If you don’t take this thing off right now I’m going to rip it,” he said, his breath laboured.

You reached under your shirt, and he helped you slip it over your head. He threw it away and pulled you into another kiss. His hand wrapped in your hair.

You took off his tie and his waistcoat, his usual fur coat was already draped on the back of his large red chair. He stopped you unbuttoning his shirt, shaking his head, trailing kisses along your jaw, and down your neck as he walked you backwards to his desk. He unclasped your bra. He watched it slide down your arms and then tossed it somewhere that was going to be your future you’s problem.

“Up,” he ordered.

You jumped up, wrapping your arms around his neck. He grasped the underside of your thighs and placed you down on the free space of his grand desk.

He bit your shoulder, and you moaned out his name in a way that had him almost feral. He lapped at the wound and kissed it. You threw your head back biting down on your lip. He continued leaving kisses and nibbles along your collarbone, slowly lowering until your breasts were under his hungry gaze. You suddenly felt nervous. You wouldn’t say you were insecure in your looks. You knew that your looks were something to behold and of which you were very proud. They’ve come in handy in your many jobs as many times as they have caused unnecessary issues but being under the watchful gaze of Wriothesley felt different… intimate. You tried to bring your hands up to cover yourself. Wriothesley caught your wrists, looking up at you from his crouched position.

“Don’t you dare. You’re beautiful.”

“Wriothesley,” you said.

“If you aren’t comfortable, we can stop,” he assured you, although the words pained him and his dick, consent was king—always. If you weren’t comfortable, he could always sort himself out later. You were the most important thing to him. He let go of your wrists and you dropped them, letting him feast his eyes on your breasts.

“Don’t stop. Please.”

“Are you sure?” he asked again.

“Yes.”

“If you change your mind, just tell me and we’ll stop,” he said. “Give me a safe word.”

“Cake,” you instantly responded.

“Cake?” He cocked a brow. “Cake, it is.”

Without a moment spared, he grasped your breasts and planted a kiss there, dragging his lips over your nipples in a way that made you shiver. He smiled to himself at the occasional whimpers that left you; even more pleased that he was the one causing them.

“I love the noises you make. I love your voice. I’m obsessed with it. I wish to capture it and listen to it whenever you’re away,” he groaned.

He dragged his tongue down, further, and further until he was on his knees, he pushed up your skirt that had been bothering him since you crossed your gorgeous legs earlier. He was tempted to have you keep it on when he fucked you, for no other reason than the thought that the next time you decided to wear that poor excuse of a skirt he knew all you would be able to think about was how he messed you up in it. The thought brought him immense pleasure.

 He slid his hands into your shorts, squeezing your thighs. The flimsy piece of black material and whatever surprise underwear beneath it were the only things keeping him from what he wanted. He wanted to taste you. He wanted to feel how you’ll curl on his tongue; he wanted to feel you gripping his hair and screaming his name as he brought you to a high only he could give you.

“These damn shorts,” he grumbled.

“I climb mountains. How else am I going to keep myself comfortable?” you asked.

He tutted and tore them open; the fabric did not put up much of a fight at all.

“I guess you won’t be climbing mountains anytime soon,” he said guiding the torn fabric down your legs.

“Those were my favourites, you brute.”

He winked up at you.

“Ah, I suppose that makes us even,” he drawled.

Was he thinking about that damn teacup right now?

“How are you?” He said, checking in on you.

“Good.”

He smiled and your heart melted a little.

He froze when he took in the sight of your lingerie.

“Were you thinking of me when you bought these?”

“Don’t get too cocky,” you said.

“Too late.”

You bit your lip. It hadn’t been intentional, your underwear matching the colour of his eyes. He trailed his nose up the soaked fabric brushing your clit. You grabbed his hair at the stimulation. You felt the beginnings of the scruff threatening to break out of his chin tickling you as he guided your lingerie aside and gave your clit an ardent lick. Wriothesley wasn’t big on savoury treats, but you weren’t savoury, you tasted like you, and you were fast becoming his favourite dessert.

“You taste divine,” he said.

“Oh Archons,” you muttered.

“They won’t hear you down here,” he said.

It didn’t take long before your toes were curling, and you were chanting his name. Wriothesley gripped your thigh with one hand and fingered you with the other, stretching you out in preparation for him; because if there was one thing he was sure of, it was that you were going to cum around him. He was going to feel the way you would clench around him; he was going to watch your blissed-out face twist as he fucked you hard into his desk. Although he would love to feel you climax on his face there would be time for that. He’d be damned if this was the first and only time he had you. You were his. Morals and reputation be damned, he wanted—no, needed to be inside you. He didn’t care if the entirety of Meropide could hear you; in fact, he got off on the thought.

Just when you felt like you were about to climax, he pulled away and licked his lips. You glared at him as he stood and bent over you kissing you softer than before. You could taste yourself on his lips, and instead of it turning you off it spurred you on. You wrapped your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist, grinding against his clothed erection.

“Do you trust me?” he asked between heated kisses.

Everything felt wet like you both were melting, and you probably were. If so, you didn’t care, becoming water wasn’t half bad if it was with him. You heard his cuffs before you saw them spinning around the two fingers that had been inside you.

“Right now, no,” you lied.

He half smiled.

“I suppose I deserve that. I guess I’ll just have to persuade you then.”

You untangled from around him. He stepped back unbuttoning his shirt and revealing lean scar-littered skin. You wanted to reach out and so you did, tracing the long jagged discoloured scars, slightly keloid. Some looked fresher than others. He shivered and breathed out a low groan when you grazed over his nipple. He raised his signature cuffs.

“Give me your wrists,” he said.

It clinked when it secured around both wrists. The spiked metal looked so beautiful against your skin; he was almost tempted to throw away the key.

“Oh no, you’ve caught me, your grace,” you teased. Something you shouldn’t have done because the way he looked at you after told you that you had triggered something in him.

“You did break my favourite teacup after all,” he said.

“I thought we were even.”

You watched him slowly unbuckle his belt and step between your legs. There would be time for savouring the moment later, many moments if he could help it but not then. You felt his erection only covered by the thin fabric of his boxers press against your vagina, he leans over you caging you between his arms and the desk.

“Indeed, we are for breaking.” He nibbled on your ear, “but that doesn’t mean you’re off the hook. That was an expensive cup you know some flimsy shorts won’t cover the costs. You should know I only play fair, and you got some of the tea on my freshly shined boots.”

Your cuffed hands resting on your stomach fiddled with the lining of his boxers. You lost your breath when he nuzzled into the base of your neck.

“Don’t tease me,” he grunted.

You manage to slip his cock out.

“Says the man who denied me my orgasm.”

You felt his smile on your neck.

He rubbed his cock along your folds but didn’t push in. He wanted to be sure that you’re sure.

“I don’t think friends do this,” he said as he continued to edge your hole.

“Just fuck me already,” you sassed.

He thrust into you, filling you completely. He was thicker than you expected, thicker than you had had before. You couldn’t be more thankful for the earlier foreplay because without it he wouldn’t have fit. He remained still for a while, and you slowly adjusted to his size. The dull ache of the intrusion quickly turned from discomfort to bliss.

“Wriothesley.”

“Fuck, you feel amazing,” he breathed. “Don’t stop saying my name.”

You didn’t.

“Good girl,” he said.

The desk jutted, the papers shook, and books slid off the desk smacking the floor in their wake, but the sound was lost to you both. Despite his strong persona, and much to your delight, he didn’t hold back his occasional whimpers, and grunts. The sound blessed your ears like a symphony. Sometime after your first orgasm, he took off the cuffs and threw them to his settee.

He left the occasional bites and kisses on the underside of your jaw, and down to your breasts. You, in turn, added to the long scars down his back, your nails clawing into the flesh. He would treasure those when they scarred.

You guided his face up from your neck, where he had been breathing you in as if he couldn’t get enough of you into his system. In truth, he couldn’t. You kissed him deeply, filling it with all the words you hadn’t yet been able to say. You felt your third climax on the horizon as he hit the same spot that made your back arch.

“Wriothesley,” you said against his mouth. “There.”

He chased your lips.

“That’s it,” he said, rolling his hips. He slipped a hand between your rocking bodies and rubbed your swollen clit. You let out a needy moan.

 “I’ve got you,” he said as you clenched around him.

Your orgasm washed over you like a tidal wave of primordial water. He held you to him, as he continued to thrust towards his own high, encasing you in his arms.

“That’s it, that’s my girl,” he groaned.

 Wriothesley felt like he was on cloud nine. Being with you was entirely different from what he imagined in the best way possible. It felt like a dream having you here, in his arms, pliant to his every desire. In each kiss, he pretended that you felt the same way; that you wanted the same things. He pretended that this moment wasn’t just a moment but forever—because he wanted you forever.

He slowed down prolonging the experience and straightened up looking down at the fucked-out expression on your face. He knew he didn’t look any better. Swiping a hand through his hair, he continued to roll his hip slowly. He placed a hand on your pelvis steadying you. Your body was covered in a sheen of sweat which glistened under the light of the office. He felt like he was melting into you—like you were melting into each other.

“Can I?” he asked.

“Yes,” you answered opening your arms for him, beckoning him home. And truly, to him, you felt like home.

He pushed his damp hair back once again, before leaning over you. With a final grunt and a spam of your walls around him, he came. He didn’t pull out right away, wrapping his arms around you as if afraid to let go.

Your thighs were sticky from your combined releases, and your body felt like it had been sitting in a sauna for hours but seeing the rare, satisfied look on his face made it all worth it. He closed his eyes and sighed.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“You owe me new shorts,” you said.

“I’ll buy you as many shorts as your heart desires,” he uttered, tiredly.

“Really?”

He hummed and nodded slowly.

“Good because I think I’m going to need a lot of them if you’re going to rip them off every time,” you said causing him to perk up. “You know to repay for the teacup.”

“Oh?”

“Unless this was a one-time thing then—“you hesitated.

He kissed you again, unable to hide his smile.

“Next time let’s use my bed.”

“I’d like that,” you said.

He tried to intertwine your hands, but you winced when he brushed against the forming boil.

“Let’s get you cleaned up and to Sigewinne, for real this time.”

“First, can we have a cup of tea?” you asked.

He laughed. Of course, you wanted to have tea. He could do with some tea too; he was famished after all. He laid a kiss on your forehead and made a mental note to send Clorinde an extra box of his finest tea.

“Of course, first let's clean up and then we'll have tea. I promise, but don’t spill it this time.”

masterlist

Reblogs w/ tags and comments are very much appreciated! If you enjoyed this, please feel free to consider dropping a follow as well! <3

Also, if you like my writing and wish to support me please consider buying me a coffee via Ko-fi!

[sjsmith56]

All the King’s Men, Part 1 - Born Into It

Summary: A confrontation at a mob wedding signals the start of a possible war. For one of the mob bosses, Bucky Barnes, it comes at a time when he is considering leaving the life behind.

Length: 4.1 K

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, Helmut Zemo, Tony Stark, Alexander Pierce, Brock Rumlow, Joaquin Torres, named OFC.

Warnings: Unrestrained ambition, regrets.

Author notes: I hope you like this.

To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:

A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted.

It was never supposed to come to this. In the world Bucky Barnes lived he was never supposed to go against the King he swore an oath to, Alexander Pierce. But he made a decision that came with consequences. Then he met her, and his entire world turned upside down. More choices were made, people were hurt or killed, and he accepted that this was now the time of war. As he loaded his guns, he looked at the grim face of his best friend and lieutenant, Steve Rogers. With the sound of the deluge that pounded against the roof and windows of the warehouse like a constant dirge as a reminder of what he had to do, he nodded at his friend, then at the others that waited for him. Together they went out into the rainy night, getting inside one of the waiting vehicles to face either the end of their existence or a new beginning.

Six Weeks Before

It was the wedding of the year; the marriage of Alexandra Pierce to Brock Rumlow. The daughter of the King of the Five Boroughs, Alexander Pierce, was marrying one of the King's Men, the one responsible for the Bronx territory; a match made in heaven. More likely, it was a match made in the conference room of Pierce's offices in the glass walled Insight Tower where he ran his empire. Without a son to pass his domain on to, Pierce had five potential successors, Bucky Barnes, in charge of Brooklyn, Tony Stark in charge of Manhattan, Helmut Zemo from Queens, Wilson Fisk who ran Staten Island (more like its warden than its crime boss), and Rumlow, who ruled The Bronx with an iron fist. Although Rumlow's elevation to family wasn't necessarily a promotion to successor, it was still an indicator to many that he was likely to be the next King. Whether that was going to be acceptable to the other King's Men remained to be seen.

On the terrace of the large Manhattan hotel where the elaborately decorated wedding reception was being held, Barnes had a drink with a couple of his men, Steve Rogers, and Sam Wilson. He lit up a cigarette, gazing out over the New York cityscape. Nothing verbally was said between the three; it wasn't necessary since they knew each other so well. As the other two leaned against the railing, facing the wedding guests who were outside taking in the view, Barnes continued to focus his attention on the bustling city, wishing he didn't have to make an appearance at this particular wedding. Another one of the King's Men, Helmut Zemo, approached them, accompanied by his closest advisor, an ancient but crafty man known only as Oeznik, who had served Zemo's father. The Queens boss nodded at Rogers and Wilson, then lit up his own cigarette and took a position next to Barnes.

"You must be disappointed, James," he said, using Bucky's full birth name, a habit he used with all of them. "Everyone thought you were Pierce's golden boy."

"Not at all," answered Barnes. "I'm happy for Rumlow and for her. Let him deal with her temper tantrums and need to buy something new everyday to fill the hole in her heart knowing she wasn't the son her father always wanted."

"Bold words that have a touch of truth and bitterness in them," smiled Zemo, his slight accent revealing his European birth. "Don't tell me you hope to find a love match. You know that's not possible for men like us."

"No? Yet you had that, Helmut," said Barnes, turning to look at his counterpart. "She was the light of your life. I envied you and I still hold out hope that there might be someone like her out there for me."

A flicker of pain crossed the other man's eyes, then it passed, and he smiled sadly. "She was the perfect wife, and I miss her. It's also why I will never marry again." He took another drag of his cigarette then gestured to the city. "It all looks so clean from up here. Bright lights, beautiful buildings. Anthony has done a great job hiding the true nature of the city from its inhabitants."

"He likes it when things look shiny and clean." Bucky inhaled his cigarette, blowing the smoke out forcefully, and watching as it dissipated. "I'm happy in Brooklyn. It's where I grew up. It's home, even the dirty and dangerous parts. I made choices, just like you." He turned around. "You're happy in Queens, aren't you?"

Zemo shrugged. He was always good at hiding his emotions, except when his late wife was mentioned. Turning away from the view he looked at the others outside on the terrace with them, then he lowered his voice.

"Trouble is coming," he said. "I respect you, James. You say what you mean and mean what you say, and you are principled. It's a rare thing in our business. Tread carefully."

He took one last drag of his cigarette then stubbed it out with his shoe. With a nod to the others, he and Oeznik returned inside, leaving Bucky contemplating the man's words. None of what he said was a surprise, really. The past year had provided some dark moments that affected him personally.

"He must have heard the same rumours," said Steve, lowering his voice while watching the others. "Zemo could be a valuable ally if Fisk makes his move."

"True, but he's betrayed his friends when it suited him." Bucky breathed steadily. "Tony has already said he'll stand with us. Rumlow is the wild card and Pierce knows it, has nurtured it since I walked away from Alexandra. It's his way of keeping us on our toes." He looked at his watch. "Pierce will likely call a meeting in the next half hour. Why let a wedding interfere with business?"

Twenty-five minutes later the word was passed that a meeting would be held in a private room on the third floor. All the King's Men, their lieutenants, and advisors were expected to pay their respects in person to Alexander Pierce. No other word was given about the reason for the meeting. Bucky, Steve, and Sam made their way to the room, which had a small anteroom before it where Pierce's men offered up boxes, like what one would see at the security check in an airport. Nothing was said but each man was expected to put his weapons in the box and leave them with Pierce's security. It was a gesture of respect that this place and time wasn't to be used to settle old scores or to start new ones. No one was to bring an instrument of death into one of these meetings.  Funny that they were allowed at the wedding, but mob life could be like that.

Bucky left both his guns and the knife he always kept in his boot in the box, then looked at the prototype prosthetic arm that he wore. Having lost his left arm after an attempted hit during a vacation in Florida that killed his mother and sister, his new arm was like nothing available to most people. It was impervious to bullets, fire, and force; it was also incredibly strong, allowing him to lift up anyone by the neck. In the year since it was fitted to become part of his body, the vibranium limb had served him well. Shifting his gaze from his arm to Pierce's man, he raised his eyebrows in an unspoken question.

"You may keep it on," said Mike, the object of his gaze. "Mr. Pierce already approved it."

With a nod, Bucky entered the room, taking his place at the table with six chairs placed around its perimeter, flanked by more than double that number in a second layer. Steve and Sam sat behind Bucky. Pierce sat at the head of the table, with his advisor Jasper Sitwell right behind him. To his right was Rumlow with Rollins, his second in command. Zemo and Oeznik were next, followed by Bucky and his cohort, then Tony Stark and his men, Happy Hogan, and James Rhodes. They were still waiting for Wilson Fisk. A commotion in the anteroom drew everyone's attention as Fisk's angry voice indicated he wasn't happy about giving up his cane, claiming that he needed it for support because of a knee injury. Pierce whispered something to Sitwell, who stepped out then came back in leading Fisk and his man, James Wesley. His cane had been left behind. He took his place to the left of Pierce.

"Thank you all for coming to my daughter's wedding," began the King of New York mob bosses. "It seemed remiss not to take the opportunity to have a brief meeting of the Boroughs. Rumlow, tell us the latest in your part of the city."

The dark-haired man stood up and gave his report, concluding with thanks to Pierce for allowing him the honour of Alexandra's hand. Each of the King's Men stood up and gave their report on the business in their area of the city, until it came to Fisk. The big man sat stubbornly in his chair.

"My knee injury prevents me from standing for very long," he began. "Please do not see my sitting as any disrespect to the assembly here." Pierce nodded sagely at the man, who was the oldest of the King's Men. "Staten Island continues to thrive, as we control the docks completely. Nothing comes in or goes out without payment being made. The more powerful unions are under my control as we found ways to make sure their leaders knew where their loyalties should lie. I predict a good year for revenue." Pierce nodded, as if this were the end of the report then Fisk cleared his throat. "Has any decision been reached on naming your successor yet?"

"No, not yet," answered Pierce. "Even if I had decided I would call a separate meeting to announce it."

Fisk nodded. "There have been rumours that Rumlow will be your successor, as payment for agreeing to marry your daughter."

Rumlow's face darkened and he almost said something, but Pierce raised his hand.

"Are you saying I had to bribe someone to marry my daughter?"

Fisk cleared his throat. "Not at all. Alexandra is a lovely woman. I'm sure she had many suitors for her hand."

"My daughter is a first-class bitch," said Pierce. "But she and Brock are genuinely attached to each other. It doesn't mean that he is on the fast track to become King of the Five Boroughs, and he knows that." He glanced at Rumlow, who nodded in agreement. "As for the rumours, I've done my own investigation of where they originated from, and it seems Staten Island is the top candidate." He leaned towards Fisk, glaring at him. "Are you unsatisfied with your position?"

Most people would think that Wilson Fisk didn't react to the question, but most people didn't know him. He, like the other King's Men, kept a relatively low profile, although he was more reclusive than the other under bosses. Any attention given to their positions could lead to Pierce and he led the most reclusive life of all of them. But it was obvious to all the other King's Men that Fisk didn't like being singled out in front of his peers. A slight grimace, some might even call it a tic, appeared on his face, then was gone just as quickly.

"No, I'm not unsatisfied," he answered. "Are we done here?"

Bucky could feel the tension in the room. They all could. Fisk was walking a very narrow and dangerous line, and he was doing it alone. None of the other King's Men were jumping to his defence. Whatever Pierce said now could determine the future of their alliance. The grey-haired man set his mouth in a grim line and sat back in his chair, waving his hand dismissively at the Staten Island boss.

"We're done," were his only words, sounding oddly prophetic.

Fisk, despite his bulk and supposed injured knee, easily rose from the chair. Wesley rose with him. Without another word the two men exited to the anteroom and retrieved their weapons. Through the open door the others could see the guard hand Fisk his cane. Then the big man deliberately grasped the handle on it and pulled it away from the stick portion, revealing a sword encased inside the implement. He shoved it back in, then left. The others still sat at the table, waiting for a comment on the display. Pierce didn't disappoint.

"Gentlemen, I believe Wilson Fisk has just declared war. I plan to dance with my daughter right now but if you wish to leave to prepare yourselves for what's to come, I fully understand. Thank you for coming to the wedding. Good evening."

He rose and left the room, his actions mirrored by Sitwell, Rumlow and Rollins. The others stayed seated for several more moments, then Zemo stood up.

"I think I will sit this one out," he announced, then bowed his head slightly at the remaining King's Men. "Anthony, James. Good luck."

He and Oeznik left. While their men went to retrieve their weapons Stark and Barnes contemplated their own moves while still sitting at the large table. The older man stroked his goatee then fixed his gaze on the younger man.

"As much as I don't like or trust Fisk, he has a point. I know you have a history with Pierce, but you have to admit that since Rumlow became involved with Alexandra the two have become quite chummy. Surely, you've heard some rumours that didn't originate in Staten Island."

Bucky slowly looked over at Stark, returning his gaze.

"I have but rumours are often unsubstantiated. Are you picking a side, Tony?"

The other man shook his head. "Not at all. I also have a history with Pierce. He and my father were good friends, well, as good as two men could be in our business. But make no mistake, Pierce has always had his own agenda, as has Fisk. I wouldn't be surprised if the two of them cooked this up to find out how the rest of us would react. I'm going to do my due diligence, and I would suggest you do the same. Perhaps we can compare notes before we make any rash decisions." He tilted his head and smiled slightly. "Agreed?"

"Agreed. Zemo warned me before this meeting that he believed trouble was coming."

"Funny, he said the same thing to me."

Stark rose, as Hogan and Rhodes entered with his weapons, waiting while he put his guns back in his holsters under his jacket. Steve and Sam waited in the anteroom with Bucky's weapons. They bowed their heads slightly as Stark and his men left, then watched as Bucky took his guns and knife. Without a word the three of them left the hotel, stepping directly into the armoured SUV driven by Joaquin Torres, a young man recruited by Wilson. Thus far, the performance of his duties had been exemplary.

"Home," said Bucky.

There wasn't much to be said on the ride home. All three men who were at the meeting knew that life was going to become a bit more dangerous. A power struggle was about to happen, and lines seemed to have been drawn, if not yet stepped over. If only it didn't seem to be a setup they could plan accordingly. As they passed a broken-down car at the side of the road Bucky noticed a woman leaning against the hood, on her cell phone. It was only a fleeting look as they passed, but he strained to keep her in view as the car sped further away.

"Circle around and go back," he said to Joaquin. "Stop at that car."

Sam and Steve both looked up from their phones, then looked behind them but she was almost out of sight.

"What is it?" asked Steve. "Someone we know?"

"Not yet," said Bucky, then he smiled. "But you might recognize her when we get back to that car."

At the next exit, Joaquin pulled out and quickly found a way to double back. Minutes later he pulled up behind the broken-down car and Bucky got out. Sam and Steve scrambled to follow him as he walked past the vehicle to the front of the car where the woman was still trying to get her phone to work.

"Having some car trouble?" asked Bucky. She looked up, seeming surprised to see him. "We were just passing by, and I noticed you. I saw you at the charity gala last week, but we didn't meet then. I'm James Barnes. These are my associates, Steve Rogers, and Sam Wilson."

She smiled and he knew then that coming back for her had been the right move. "I remember you, too. Audrey Steele." She gestured to her car. "I'm not sure what's wrong with it and I'm not getting a signal to call for a tow truck."

He glanced at Sam. "She's right about the signal," he confirmed. "Once we're in a better position I could phone one of our guys to pick it up and take it to one of our garages." Sam grinned. "Would that be acceptable Ms. Steele? I'm sure we can get you home safely."

"Well, normally I wouldn't accept a ride from four strange men, but I do recall a mutual acquaintance at the gala insisting that you and I should meet." She looked up at Barnes who had an amused expression on his face.

"That would be Natasha Romanov, wouldn't it?" He smiled. "She was supposed to introduce us then someone monopolized her time." He glanced back at Steve who just grinned. "Please, let us take you home."

"Alright." She opened her car door, to take her purse out. Sam advised her to leave the vehicle in park. "What about my key fob? Won't they need it?"

Sam smiled. "Give it to me and I'll drop it off at the garage after we drop you off."

She offered him the key fob then followed Bucky to the car, sitting between him and Steve while Sam sat in the front with Joaquin. After giving the younger man her address, she looked at Bucky.

"So, James, what has you out on a Saturday night?"

"A wedding of a business associate," he answered. "We were obligated to make an appearance. I could ask the same of you and please call me Bucky. Only a few people call me James."

"I was stood up," she replied, looking down at her hands for a moment. "Should have known when he said he wasn't willing to come pick me up. He cancelled the reservation but didn't even bother to let me know. Left that to the maître d'.

"Give me his name and I'll have him killed." Bucky smiled when he said it, which made her laugh, but Steve saw the look in his eye and shook his head slightly, not liking it when his friend casually referred to their profession.

"He's not worth it," she replied. "Besides, that would get you into trouble. I can fight my own battles."

"I'm sure you can." Sitting beside her made him aware of her perfume. "That's a lovely scent you're wearing."

"Thank you. It's Eternity by Calvin Klein. You smell pretty good yourself."

Bucky grinned with good nature at her remark. "Thank you. It's Beau de Jour by Tom Ford. It's kind of old fashioned but I like it."

There was silence for a moment then Sam spoke. "I'm wearing Dior Sauvage myself."

Everyone laughed; even Joaquin smiled.

"You must be good friends and work well together," said Audrey. "I sense you know each other very well."

"We do," replied Bucky. "Steve and I have known each other since we were boys. We met Sam in college, but he fit right in. Working together just seemed like a natural progression. We trust each other."

"What is it that you do?" she asked.

"Imports and exports mostly," said Steve, before Bucky could answer. "With additional investments in transportation services, security, and entertainment."

"Well, that didn't tell me much," replied Audrey, which drew a frown from Steve, something she didn't notice. "Although, if you're involved in security work then it stands to reason that you keep a low profile. I'm involved in charity work. Planning events mostly for non-profits and NGOs, although I have been involved in the operations of some charities." She frowned slightly, then smiled as the SUV entered her street. "It's the last brownstone on the right."

Joaquin had to double park as there were no open spots on the street. Bucky got out and offered Audrey his hand to help her. She said goodbye to the others, wishing them a good evening and receiving the same sentiment from them. He walked her to the bottom of the steps and stood looking down slightly at her, as she was quite tall for a woman.

"Thank you for the ride. I guess I should give you my number to let me know when to pick up my car."

"Give me your phone," said Bucky, entering his information in it, then messaging himself so that his phone pulsed with its text sound. He opened the message then saved her contact information. "Would you go out with me? I would never stand you up, at least not without making sure you knew that something dire was keeping me away from you."

"Yeah," she nodded and smiled. "I would like that." She looked back at the SUV. "It would just be you, right?"

He chuckled. "Just me. Do you need another vehicle, in case your car needs more than a day to repair?"

"No, I mostly work from home but thank you for thinking of me." She smiled warmly. "I'm glad we met. I might not have accepted the date with Terrence if I met you first."

Bucky took her hand in his and kissed her knuckles. "He was an idiot. Any man who would stand up a woman like you isn't fit to call themselves a man. Goodnight, Audrey."

"Goodnight, Bucky."

She went up the steps and unlocked the security door before waving at him and closing the door behind her. He watched the windows to see which flat's light turned on. Rewarded with her appearance at a window on the third floor he returned to the SUV and got into the back seat. This wasn't the best neighbourhood to be in after dark. Why was she living here?

"Phone Natasha and find out who Audrey's date was. First name, Terrence. Don't hurt him, just find out what you can, and I'll deal with him myself. What a fucking fool that man was."

Steve and Sam made eye contact with each other. It had been some time since Bucky was involved with anyone; Alexandra Pierce actually and that was before he lost his arm. It might not be the best time for him to begin a new relationship, but he was a better man when he was in love. Hell, they all were.

Part 2>>

Series masterlist

Please support the author by reblogging.

[genshinnrambles]

[4.1] What is "It"?: Theories on Will, Wishes, and Fate

With the finale of Fontaine’s Archon Quest in just a few days, I know there’s a lot of questions I’m personally anticipating the answers to: what is the true origin of the prophecy? What is the Primordial Sea, really? What is the connection between it and the Abyssal whale? And just what exactly did Skirk mean when she said that Childe had awakened “it” and had traces of “it” on him?

Most community theories suggest that “it” just refers to the whale, but like, what is the whale? Why did Childe even see it in the Abyss all those years ago, and why has it reappeared now? Well, I have a few ideas I’d like to explore about that, albeit in a very roundabout way, and they start with a quest that I feel has been severely under-discussed and under-theorized since its release: Yoimiya’s second story quest.

It’s understandable that this quest didn’t get too much buzz between its very unfortunate timing in patch 3.7, when community burnout was exceptionally high, and Honkai Star Rail’s debut as the Shiny New Thing. But it’s also a shame, because this story quest is full of interesting lore, Freudian references, and a few intriguing world building mysteries beneath its very wholesome story and further exploration of Yoimiya’s character. That is to say, the content of Yoimiya’s second story quest really matters. It’s not just because it is the first non-Archon character’s second story quest to date — it’s because it is an incredibly important piece of the puzzle comprised of Nahida’s second story quest, Caribert, and Khvarena of Good and Evil that was preparing us for Fontaine’s plot.

This is an attempt to identify and analyze the connections between Yoimiya’s second story quest and those above, as well as to theorize about the greatest mystery in Yoimiya’s quest, the “Urstone,” and finally tie all of that into Fontaine’s Archon Quest thus far. As that is an ambitious project, this will be far from an exhaustive theory, but I hope to at least get closer to understanding the meaning behind Childe awakening ”it.” 

SPOILERS: Fontaine AQ Acts I-IV, Yoimiya’s SQ Act II: Star-Pickers’ Passage, Aranyaka, Nahida’s SQ Act II: Homecoming, Khvarena of Good and Evil, Ei’s SQ Act II: Transient Dreams, Kazuha’s SQ: A Long and Friendless Road (very minor), and Caribert.

A “Story”

Yoimiya: But there’s a premise to every legend, and that’s belief!

Since it's been a while, let’s start with some recap of Yoimiya’s Act II: Star-Pickers’ Passage. 

By chance, the Traveler comes across Yoimiya in Inazuma as she prepares to search for a great meteor shower like the one that her ancestor saw many years ago. It’s patch 3.7, so the Traveler’s got a lot of time to kill and offers to go with her from Ritou to Port Ormos. There, they come across Acara Crafts’ stall that sells Aranara carved figures, which Yoimiya buys out to bring back as souvenirs to Hanamizaka.

In Sumeru City, Yoimiya and the Traveler briefly split up to look for meteor shower leads, and the Traveler runs into Nahida at the Akademiya. Upon learning their journey’s purpose, Nahida explains that meteor showers are unpredictable occurrences related to “intricate fates” interfering with one another, and for this reason seeking one out reliably is impossible.

The Traveler and Paimon are reluctant to tell Yoimiya this out of fear of disappointing her and rendering her journey meaningless, so with Nahida’s help they decide to facilitate the meteor shower through a dream in order to fulfill her wish.

This is the first of many references to psychoanalysis and Sigmund Freud’s theory of dream interpretation in this quest. Freud thought that the psychological purpose of dreams is to fulfill wishes, particularly wishes that we’ve forgotten through repression. He believed that these unfulfilled wishes are what produce the dream itself; the wish “wants” to be remembered, and the mental processes that repress it are weakest at night, so dreams are our mind’s attempt to translate the underlying “thought” that represents the wish into “images” while we sleep. Through dreams, unfulfilled wishes can be made conscious or remembered and fulfilled through a fantasy. 

To lure Yoimiya into the dream and sell her their “story”, the Traveler and Paimon craft the perfect pretext so that she fully believes that they are preparing to see a meteor shower. Their pretext’s foundation, namely the idea that meteor showers are summoned by people’s wishes, subtly twists the truth in Nahida’s words so that something intangible and uncontrollable is framed as something with an amount of certainty. In other words, by controlling the pretext, the Traveler and Paimon are able to control “truth.”

Upon reuniting with Yoimiya, the Traveler finds her with a little girl in a wheelchair named Avin. Before parting ways, Yoimiya gives her a carved Aranara souvenir to thank her for guiding her through Sumeru City, and to cheer her up. Yoimiya then tells the Traveler that Avin has an unknown chronic illness that immobilizes her legs, and that she had approached Avin because she seemed to be alone and in a bad mood.

As they refocus on finding the meteor shower, the Traveler and Paimon begin to tell Yoimiya their lie and set the plan in motion. They play the role of magicians using careful misdirection to craft a wonderful illusion; beneath the ruse of finding the right “location” (or “space”) and forging a special device (which can be anything) to observe the meteor shower, they will take Yoimiya on a journey through Sumeru and make memories with her, adding meaning to what is ultimately a trick. With these seeds planted, they head off to Devantaka Mountain to “practice” wishing for the meteor shower.

At the top of the Ruin Golem there, Yoimiya shares more about her motivations for setting out on this journey. As someone who was entrusted with the wishes of everyone in Inazuma who heard of her dream, Yoimiya began to wonder why people derive this meaning from meteor showers in the first place: 

Yoimiya: People use fireworks to remember their most precious memories, and these memories sparkle and shine each time the fireworks fly.

Yoimiya: In other words, fireworks symbolize the past. Yoimiya: And shooting stars make people think of wishes because wishes carry people's brilliant hopes and expectations for the future. Yoimiya: One represents the past, and the other the future. They both bloom in the sky, but have completely different meanings behind them.

Yoimiya’s belief that wishes are beautiful things that join the past and the future is what gives her journey meaning, and this is what keeps her moving forward despite the lack of certainty that she will ever find this beauty herself. This admiration for the hope in people’s hearts is what shapes her wish, too.

After returning to Sumeru City, they ask Ahangar for guidance on how to forge an observation device with the purest ore. After some initial skepticism, he chooses to entertain their “story” and tells them about his own profession’s local legend: somewhere, there exists an excellent forging material that few have ever found, and the few who already have it have never used:

Yoimiya: So you mean that [the forging material] symbolizes dreams? Ahangar: Dreams, inspiration, obsession, focus…. Call it what you want. But if you take it to symbolize “purity,” then I believe it is your goal as well. Ahangar: We call it Urstone, but in truth, neither I nor my colleagues have ever seen it.

As they are about to set off and find this Urstone, Avin’s parents show up looking for her after  she didn’t return home that day. The Traveler and Yoimiya then find Avin collapsed on the outskirts of Sumeru City. After calming her down, Avin discloses that her illness has not just immobilized her – she has also forgotten her happy memories and how it felt to be passionate before she got sick. With no end in sight to her illness, Avin’s dreams of becoming an adventurer have ended and her world feels as if it is closing in on her – as she later reflects, her world had “shrunk down to a tiny space.” Avin’s illness is an objective truth with material consequences on her life, and this truth ended the fantasy of her innocence, along with her dream of becoming an adventurer one day. This loss of innocence, and therefore loss of childhood, triggered feelings of depression and hopelessness in her. However, the Aranara carving that Yoimiya gave Avin reminded her of her childhood friend, Arashani, who she desperately wanted to see again. 

To help Arashani and Avin reunite, the Traveler calls on the Aranara for help with a whistle that Nahida gave them for the dream-meteor shower. When Arapurva arrives, Yoimiya asserts herself as someone who both values childhood innocence and sees children’s dreams as worthy of protection, which earns the Aranara’s trust:

Arapurva: It seems that Red Nara has not yet grown up. Paimon: Huh? What do you mean by that? Arapurva: Time is very important to Nara. Nara walk with time. They remember much, and they forget much. But Red Nara is different. You know how young Nara think. The warmth in your heart is very pure, and it is fierce like the sun.

Arapurva then takes them all to Mawtiyima to find Arashani, and here they enter a collective dream. Before leaving them, Arapurva urges Avin to remember, and that to do so she needs both memories and dreams. Arapurva also says something very interesting, also worth keeping in the back of your head: “Dreams are connected to your heart, not your body.”

Avin: Wow, that’s amazing, is this…the power of my heart? Video Still from Streetwise Rhapsody

The dream space allows Avin to unite thoughts with belief to create images. Remember, according to Freud, the psychological purpose of dreams is to make conscious an unfulfilled wish – so, in this liminal space between the conscious and unconscious, Avin can create the image of herself walking again just by thinking of it, because it is her wish, and thereby remember how she once felt before she got sick.

As they search for Avin’s memories of Arashani, Yoimiya and Avin chase a wayward “star” across Mawtiyima’s mushroom canopy until they reach an iridescent pale blue stone with a solid partial casing surrounding it. Inside, the stone glitters with the light of the universe. 

Avin: I dunno how to explain this…I don’t know what it is, but it feels very familiar…Almost like it’s a part of me.

Yoimiya speculates that this stone is what Avin has been searching for all this time, and that it is her Urstone:

Yoimiya: It's a very rare ore that symbolizes a person's aspirations and dreams. Yoimiya: Since you can see it, that means you've found what you've lost. Avin: Is that how it works...? Avin: It's just like in fairy tales... I thought I'd stopped believing in those. Avin: But I'm glad that I found that belief again.

Avin then reaches into the Urstone and passes through it into a deeper layer of the dream, and there she reunites with Arashani, signaling that she has regained her memories. Having found him again, Avin’s hope is renewed and it changes her reality – indeed, it changes her fate. To be clear, Avin can’t dream or wish away her illness in real life, but her hope is what allows her to expand the “tiny space” her world had become in her depression.

After this, the crew seemingly returns to reality, but finds that Arashani is still there along with Arapurva. Having settled her worries, Avin resolves to help Yoimiya and the Traveler achieve their wish to see the meteor shower, and offers them her Urstone…

Avin: Yoimiya, you need this Urstone because you want to see a meteor shower? Yoimiya: Yep. Oh! Once we find it, you should come with us! Avin: If that’s how things are…I’m happy to lend you my Urstone.

…And then, Avin pulls a light blue lens from her chest, right over her heart. With this lens crafted using the purest ore, they locate a meteor shower of stars flying up from the ground and ride them through the clouds. Finally, they wake up from the collective dream and part ways in Port Ormos.

The Purest Ore and the Will to Power

Now, there’s a lot to discuss about Yoimiya’s second story quest, and we will get to as much of it as possible, but the bulk of this theory will be focused on trying to understand the Urstone, so that is where we will begin. 

Let’s start with what we know from the quest. We are told three things about the Urstone: it is “the purest ore,” it symbolizes dreams, and through the dream we are implicitly told that it represents the power of the heart.

This last area is where we’ll turn the majority of our attention, because from there we can reach a greater understanding of many worldbuilding concepts we’ve encountered in the story thus far. However, all of these definitions of the Urstone work hand-in-hand and do not contradict one another, so they are all helpful to keep in mind going forward.

But what do I mean by “power of the heart?” Well, first let’s harken back to the Aranara quest, Aranyaka, where we learned about the “Sourcesong” and the songs that split off from it through time. By learning all of the songs that represent these branches from the origin, the Aranara get closer to learning the Sourcesong:

Arasudraka: Songs are like rivers. They derive from the same origin, the "Sourcesong." She is the home to all songs and the source of all great rivers. Arasudraka: Then, it changes when it is sung for different memories and different stories, just like how a great river diverges into creeks. Arasudraka: Just like all the creeks eventually flow into the sea, all the songs eventually converge into one, into the Sourcesong. Arasudraka: So Aranara song gatherers have to find all the songs. That way, we can find the Sourcesong.

These songs serve as a metaphor for another theme of Aranyaka, which is the concept of “returning to Sarva,” or returning to Irminsul after death in the form of memories/energy in the Ley Lines. It could also be extended to what we currently understand about the Primordial Sea as the origin of all life, its “source,” and all the lifeforms that arise from it are like the creeks that diverge from the river before they eventually converge back into the sea: 

Paimon: What? You mean you don't believe in the prophecy? Augereau: No, no, I believe in the prophecy, but I also believe in another story. Augereau: The story says that people once lived in the ocean. They were one with the ocean and couldn't live apart from it. Augereau: But as time wore on, people desired to live on land and developed blood vessels, encapsulating the sea within their bodies. Thus could people set foot on land. Augereau: So if you ask me, when the water rises and takes us all, it'll be like we're going home.

The philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche was also interested in the idea of things differentiating themselves from a primordial source of sorts, and he uses this language in one of his many attempts to define his most well-known philosophical doctrines, the Will to Power. In Beyond Good and Evil, Nietzsche marks the inner “world of desires and impulses” as the source of emotions (Nietzsche, 35). He likens it to a primitive world where desires exist in a state of unity that then branch off into distinct organic processes. Nietzsche argues that this differentiation arises due to “will,” and that will is the “causality of all things,” and that all will is Will to Power – in other words, the will to dominate and to multiply (Nietzsche 13 & 35). 

“Will” is the force that differentiates the primordial soup of our base desires and impulses into distinct organic processes, and these processes then give rise to distinct life forms that separate themselves from the original state of unity. That is, without “will,” we would all still be floating in the unified state of the primordial soup - will is both the cause, and the reason for individuality: 

Mary-Ann: Water can take any shape, and life can choose what form it must take. This, however, has nothing to do with its essence. That is a different matter.

If you’ve been following the Narzissenkreuz Institute world quest plot, this discussion of “will'' should be ringing some bells. In Khvarena of Good and Evil, we came across Rene’s Investigation Notes in the Girdle of Sands, which talked about the power of Khvarena and a blurred out word (likely “Abyss'' or “Void”) containing a will of their own that can recognize itself, unlike the power of the Elements:

...Though the results are nothing impressive, this is because the object [the Khaenri’ahns] chose was pure elemental force, which lacks any will whatsoever. Like the difference between the Director and a Hydro Slime, perhaps? […] Even though the calculated result is unchanged, but if the refinement method is reflected... If the power of... then maybe we can extract the "will" within. Using this method... resist the impact…

The investigation notes do two things here that we’re interested in: first, they establish the presence of “will” as the distinction between elemental energy, such as that found in Azosite, and the higher powers represented by Khvarena and “Void,” and second, they raise the possibility that “will” is something that can be removed from its vessel, so to speak, or perhaps manipulated. Just keep this in the back of your mind for now, too, we’ll come back to it much later.

If we apply this concept of will back to the Sourcesong story, then it is will that differentiates each song into its own unique form, but each song still contains the essence of the Sourcesong from which it arose. A similar story is told about the five branches of the Raiden Gokaden. In Kazuha’s Story Quest, Amenoma Tougo likens the Raiden Gokaden to schools of thought that originate from a single source, with each branch carrying its own philosophy. Kazuha’s family’s school, the Isshin Art, seeks “complete harmony between blade and mind” during the forging process, because they believed this was the only way for a blade to “capture and convey its maker's thoughts and feelings, and eventually become an extension of its wielder's will.”

This is a very important concept as we move forward. If we think of will as what differentiates each forging art of the Raiden Gokaden from each other and their source, and each branch is considered a unique school of thought and philosophy of blade forging, then thoughts are an essential component of will. If a blade that these philosophies produce is meant to capture the thoughts and feelings of its respective forging branch, such that they are an extension of will, then will can be further defined as the cause and reason that an abstract form (thoughts and feelings) is translated into a physical form (an object, such as a blade). It is both the how and the why.

Put another way, the blade is the bladesmith’s will embodied. It is the bladesmith’s thoughts and feelings, which we have just established are an essential component of will, given a physical form. The thoughts and feelings are will, the object is will, and the “force” that translates the abstract into the physical is will. So basically, it’s all will, but in different forms.

But so what? Well, let’s go back to the amazing feat that Avin accomplished towards the end of the story quest. She asks Yoimiya what she needs, then says she will lend her Urstone to Yoimiya to help her achieve her dreams, and what does she then do? She pulls a viewing lens from her chest, right over her heart. 

That is what the Urstone is. The Urstone is the source of a person’s will, and the Urstone is associated with the power of the heart, which would also make “will” the power of the heart. Will is what underlies the power of creation and imagination, or as Ashikai puts it in her theory of Irminsul’s true purpose, the power by which “thoughts become things.”

The purest ore was needed to craft the observation device, and of course the purest ore would come from the purest will – a child’s will. What’s more, Yoimiya and the Traveler never even mentioned what kind of device they needed to forge with the Urstone. It was Avin’s will to help her friends that materialized their thoughts into an object. The implications of this are fascinating, though this theory isn’t going to go there. Instead, I’d recommend watching Ashikai’s video above if you’re interested in that train of thought.

The Seed of Ideas*

Paimon: The light turned into…a seed?

Having established this connection between thoughts/feelings, the power of the heart, and “will,” let’s see how else we can think about the Urstone. I noticed that “will” turns up in a couple of other recent to semi-recent contexts, and both of them involve the origin of some important trees in the open world.

To start, let’s revisit Ei’s second story quest. As a lightning fast refresher, Ei and the Traveler were investigating Rifthound activity near the roots of the Sacred Sakura tree, which we know protects Inazuma by purifying “filth” from the earth, or rather the memories of people who died on the land. This is meant to mirror Irminsul, since the Ley Lines also contain memories and are Irminsul’s root system. With the Sacred Sakura’s roots damaged, this “filth” leaks out, and the memories within are briefly re-projected onto the land.

As Ei confronts her past through these memories of Inazuma, she vocalizes her change of heart since the Vision Hunt Decree and her newfound will. The Shogun then challenges her to a duel in Raiden Makoto’s realm of consciousness, which Ei preserved before she passed away 500 years ago. When Ei successfully proves the strength of her will to the Shogun, she awakens another fragment of Makoto that she hid inside Musou Isshin. Interestingly, Makoto calls this a fragment of her will. Upon awakening her will, it becomes a seed that Ei plants in the realm of consciousness, which grows the Sacred Sakura tree in the real world. In other words, the Sacred Sakura tree is Makoto’s will given a physical form, another example of someone’s will embodied.

But this is not even the first time that will has been represented to players as a seed. In Dragonspine, the Frostbearing Tree goes through a physical transformation as the Traveler offers it more and more Crimson Agate, which is a crystal tainted with Durin’s abyssal blood. After offering enough Crimson Agate, we get the blueprint for the Frostbearer catalyst, which tells us an interesting story:

A long, long time later, yet still long ago — When the deathmatch between the dragons of darkness and wind was decided at last, When corrosive blood stained the ashen valley red, The tree, at last, remembered that it had not died with that entombed city, And it extended its greedy roots towards the warm ichor that irrigated the land. Because a certain someone poured out a crimson essence upon it, The tree that should have long died remembered its past, And bore a single fruit from the coalescence of all its might…

As creepy as the Frostbearer catalyst lore is, there’s another useful analogy to be made here so that we can better understand Avin and her Urstone. 

Think of Avin as the Frostbearing Tree, a tree that “should have died” but remembered its past upon being offered Durin’s blood. This may seem like a strange comparison at first, but Durin’s blood is conceptually not so different from the memories flowing in the Ley Lines like water, or the filth flowing through the roots of the Sacred Sakura tree, just as Durin’s “heart” is likely a similar anchor for his consciousness as Elynas’s is, just as Makoto’s fragment of her will became the seed or “source” of the Sacred Sakura, or the “Urstone,” we theorize, is the source of an individual’s will. 

Basically, Durin’s blood is a liquid form of his will that can change the “shape'' of the objects it comes into contact with, and upon being exposed to it the Frostbearing Tree remembers what its life was like before the Skyfrost Nail dropped on Sal Vindagnyr. This is very similar to how Avin remembered her happiness before her illness through the magic of the dream space and finding her Urstone. And upon remembering its past, the Frostbearing Tree bears the “fruit” that is the Frostbearer catalyst, the “coalescence of all its might,” but Avin bore the observation lens. Both are products of their source’s will, but have different emotions behind them due to their difference in purity.

But there’s one last thing I want to point out about the Frostbearer catalyst before moving on to the next point. A fruit is like a sugary case for a plant’s seeds, so what might this structure be in the center of the Frostbearer catalyst?

That’s right. A “seed,” which also resembles a gem or a stone. And not too unlike the general shape of the Urstone, I would add.

But you know what else the Frostbearer catalyst and the Urstone really remind me of? The Fire Seed from Nahida’s second story quest. Although the Fire Seed neither becomes a tree nor seems to come from one (though this is also debatable if you consider Rukkhadevata and Nahida to be like…smaller trees, originating from Irminsul), it’s still worth talking about if only for a potential analogy between it and the Urstone.

The Fire Seed has obvious visual similarities with the Frostbearer catalyst, with both “stones” or seeds in the center of them having the same overall shape - the Traveler and Nahida even call the Fire Seed a crystal before they learn what it is from the elemental life form in the Chasm. 

Video still from Star Dragon X

The Urstone also generally looks similar to the Fire Seed in terms of the stone’s shape and the orientation of the casing-like objects around it, but there’s a more compelling analogy to be drawn between their composition. The Fire Seed is described as an extremely high concentration of elemental energy in a very fragile or unstable state, and we know from our understanding of Irminsul that elemental energy is another form that memories can take. While it’s not clear if passing through the Urstone is the same thing as entering the Urstone itself, Avin does access more of her repressed memories of Arashani after doing so, allowing her to “remember,” as Arapurva asked her to. So, both seem to contain memories.

You may also know that the prefix Ur- in Urstone means primordial or original, something from before the present. This leads me to wonder if that light of the universe glowing from within the Urstone is what Roozevelt calls “primal energy.” Hoyoverse does like to worldbuild through analogies and allegories, so I wouldn’t be surprised if the visual similarities between the Fire Seed and Urstone were meant to be a tip for a functional similarity as well.

Finally, there’s the relationship between the Fire Seed and Apep’s Heart of Oasis. The Fire Seed was made by Greater Lord Rukkhadevata with the help of Apep’s “children,” the elemental beings that split off from that “source.” It is meant to mimic the Heart of Oasis and the way that it functions, which tells me that all of this will/”heart”/source as a seed imagery is being repeated for a reason, because it’s meant to teach us more about how “will” works.

Remember how the Aranara believe they can find the Sourcesong by learning every song, and how this points to the idea that the essence of the source is retained in each of its “children,” despite the unique form that each song takes? Well, let’s think about that for a second. For example, think about how light shining through a prism will split off into unique colors - each color is distinct from the other, with a unique character and “form,” so to speak, but each color still originates from light. Red, green, and blue may all look different from each other, but each tells you about a characteristic of this thing called light.

I think the same is true about these “seeds.” These fragments of an original consciousness can take the form of seeds because that is one facet of the essence of the source. That’s why an Urstone can be so many things at once: a “heart” (though not corporeal), an “ore,” a source, a will, and a seed. That is because each fragment of the source’s will conveys a small “idea” taken from the original consciousness, and these ideas are like fruits born from a tree. If you were to “plant” these seeds in the ground, the ideas would spread across the land, thereby allowing one’s will not just to dominate, but also to multiply.

*The “Seed of Ideas” heading title is taken from an enemy in Honkai Impact 3rd introduced in Chapter 33. Lore-wise, they’re actually not a great example of the idea I’m trying to illustrate here lol. So don’t think too hard about the heading if you’re a Honkai 3rd player – I just thought it sounded cool. >_>

Wherefore Did the Spirit Tree Grow?

“But the reason it is effective is due to the nature of the origin, the primordial... based on the records, the constituent elements should be a "Circle of Four Orthants" and a "Tree of Emanation"... flows from the roots toward the center of the circle, and the circle encircles the abstract of... It's akin to pie crust and the filling of the pie, a metaphor sure to excite Jakob.” -Book of Revealing, Enigmatic Page VIII

And plant them we shall! That is just what Greater Lord Rukkhadevata and Raiden Ei did with Egeria and Raiden Makoto’s consciousness. Egeria’s consciousness sleeping in the Gaokerena has always reminded me of Avin’s Urstone, long before having the language of “will” to talk about it, but I could never quite explain why. I think the answer is a little more clear to me now, though there’s no concrete way to prove this theory at the moment. The Harvisptokhm, the Sacred Sakura, and I would also venture to guess the tree at Windrise are the result of planting either the source of consciousness or a fragment of consciousness, which anchors the consciousness to the mortal realm and allows it to exert its will on the land by purifying and containing its “filth.” 

These trees all belong to the consciousness of gods and ascended allogenes, but Avin is as ordinary as they come, so how is it possible to suggest that her Urstone is anything like the Gaokerena or Makoto’s will? Maybe all that’s missing is “time”?

So…what is "it"?

“An external form is but a gift of time. Through ‘growth’ comes change, and even abandonment of previous forms. However, our true nature is not so easily affected.” –”Where Lies the Path Home,” Sapientia Oromasdis: Act II

Now with all of that set-up out of the way, let’s get to the heart of the matter here…ignore the pun.

The Archon Quest establishes early on that Childe’s Vision’s malfunctioning and his bad mood are connected to one another, and with Act III and IV we see that Childe is literally being summoned by the whale – it is calling out to him, drawing him into a rift where it swims in the Primordial Sea. His Vision’s malfunctioning is what I want to zero in on first to begin to answer the larger question of what the whale is and explain Childe’s movements so far.

Once again, Aranyaka becomes very relevant here. When the Traveler saves Rana at the end of the quest after resealing Marana’s Avatar, Rana resolves to go out on an adventure and receives a Vision of her own. Though we are not shown a visual of this, it is described on a black screen of white text:

Rana pulling the Vision from “a light with the warmth of a heartbeat” from her chest is imagery we’ve already seen before, when Avin pulled the lens from her chest in the collective dream. I mean, isn’t the parallel a little too on the nose here? Avin created a lens, something you use to see and perceive, and Rana was granted her…Vision? …Why are you booing? 

Although Rana’s is the only Vision story so far that fits this imagery like a glove, I think Act III and Act IV offer some more support for where I’m going with this. Despite having Childe’s Vision in their possession since Act I, the Vision is shown twirling at the beginning of every dream sequence the Traveler experiences in the Fortress of Meropide, sequences that seem to be copies of Childe’s memories while he was a prisoner. The fact that the Vision doesn’t need to be on the physical person of its wielder in order to transmit these memories could be an indication of a deeper connection between the Vision and the wielder – that is, the Vision is similarly a physical extension of its wielder’s “Will,” created by their Urstone or “Heart,” and therefore is a part of them, like the fruit of a tree. And if that’s true, then Venti wasn’t kidding when he compared Visions to organs.

This also puts the Vision’s malfunctioning into a different perspective. To go back to Nietzsche’s statement about Will to Power, will can only operate on will, and will is the causality of all things – through this lens, it may be correct to say that the traces of “it” that Skirk could sense on Childe are traces of the Abyssal whale’s will, and that its will is interfering with Childe’s own will at this fateful moment. 

If we buy the idea that will is at least part of what can change your fate, and that Childe has traces of the whale’s will left on him, then the secret of why “it” has reappeared now may have been foreshadowed by what Nahida said in Yoimiya’s second story quest: that “meteor showers'' appear as a result of many intricate fates interfering with one another. 

Specifically, it’s an allegory for Childe and the whale. The dream Childe had when he fell into the Abyss and the meteor shower are analogous, to be sure, but let’s not forget about our good friend Mr. Freud here either, who’s analysis shows us that dreams are suppressed wishes translated into images. From that perspective, it would also be correct to say that the meteor shower is analogous to a wish. That is, Childe’s fate and the whale’s fate are interfering with one another because of their encounter in the Abyss when he was a young teenager, and perhaps the Abyss appeared that day because Childe’s fate and the whale’s fate were interfering with each other then too - and that this was Childe’s wish all along:

“Pursued by bears and wolf packs, he lost his footing and fell into a bottomless crack in the earth's surface. There, he witnessed the endless possibilities of another ancient world. There, he would meet a mysterious swordswoman... Or perhaps one should say that this dark realm had sensed the burning ambition in this boy's heart.” –Tartaglia, Character Story 4

As for the larger question of what the whale is, it’s likely not very different from Visions, or the blades of the Raiden Gokaden, or Avin and the lens. It is an extension of the Abyss’s will that branched off from its source a long time ago, a primordial being much lower on the Abyssal phylogenetic tree than the more humanoid Abyss Heralds or mages. That’s as far as I feel comfortable speculating about its origins for now, but I hope we get some clarity on its age and “distance” from its source very soon. Speaking of which…we haven’t talked about Caribert yet, have we?

There’s something eerily similar about the way that Avin described her world as a “tiny space” before changing her fate when we consider the additional context of Caribert. When he regained consciousness, he said it felt like he had just woken up from a “long dream,” and that in his dream he was hiding in a “little room,” and that he had no desire to leave it. I think this language is similar on purpose, and it tells us some more crucial information about Urstones, will, and their relationship to these curses placed on the Khaenri’ahns.

The “little room” and the “tiny space” are metaphors for a person’s perspective, which has been repeated over and over again in nearly every Fontaine world quest thus far to further our understanding of aesthetics. It’s clear from those quests that an individual’s perspective is limited, but it can be broadened by interacting with others + the passage of time, and that over long periods of time these perspectives allow for aesthetic values to change. Thus, the world is also changed. But the opposite of change is stagnation, and stagnation is precisely the result of losing the ability to connect with others - indeed, the will to leave the tiny room.

We’ve already established that when “will” exerts its influence on another will, it can change the “shape” of the will it is dominating - the Frostbearing Tree is a great example of this. The Hilichurls have also had their external forms altered, and they erode away until eventually dissolving into the mud in the Chasm. So maybe, just maybe, the “curse of the wilderness” is a result of their will being tampered with by the same “thing,” such that their inner world becomes so small that they cannot find their will anymore, and therefore they cannot change their fate.

Childe is briefly seen fighting the whale in his Foul Legacy form in the version 4.2 trailer

Now, I’m not suggesting that the traces of the whale’s will would ever result in Childe becoming a Hilichurl, or that the whale is responsible for the curse of the wilderness at all. What I am wondering is if this is why Skirk took Childe up as her disciple – to teach him a “form” of combat that would maintain his grip on his will, on some kind of “belief,” not allowing it to be dominated by the whale’s will, so that there is yet hope that Childe can change his fate.

And if that is true, then here is my last theory before I disappear: Yoimiya’s belief that a child’s wish is precious and worth protecting is likely an allegory for Skirk’s motivation to train Ajax, and the relationship between Yoimiya and Avin is also meant to foreshadow them – a master and her disciple, a traveler from afar and a child of this world, a child-at-heart and a child who is lost. This core belief is what makes Yoimiya’s heart pure, and by passing that belief on to Avin, she plants the seeds of new hope for her to defy fate, and one day she may do the same for someone else. This, in essence, is the meaning of will, and that is what I believe Skirk’s lessons were meant to teach Ajax. And that is a twist that I truly never saw coming.

TL;DR: The Urstone is the source of will that exists in each person, will is what translates thoughts into images and objects, smaller "wills" or "ideas" split off from the Urstone/heart/source/consciousness and allow for will to spread and exert its influence on other wills, and Skirk may have more in common with Yoimiya than you thought.

Thank you so much for reading, I really hope it made some sense. I would love to hear what you think of all the lore up to this point and what you make of it! :) 

Sources

Yoimiya Story Quest Act 2 (Full Quest) Carassius Auratus Chpater: Act II | Genshin Impact - YouTube- grabbed the “is this…the power of my heart?” screenshot from here because I forgot to take it in my alt’s playthrough.

Nahida Story Quest 2 - Using the fire seed to save Grounded Geoshroom | Genshin Impact 3.6 - YouTube - Video still of Lumine holding the fire seed from this video.

Beyond Good and Evil by Friedrich Nietzsche, which you can read for free here. Page numbers are given from my hard copy.

A General Introduction to Psychoanalysis by Sigmund Freud, also can be read for free here.

For more analysis of the Will to Power doctrine, check out Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy.

[hf-brainrot]

Fanfic statistics: Honkai Star Rail, characters

Total number of fics: 44,722 (I did this as a guest, so private fics are not included)

Acheron: 787 (1.76%)

 Aglaea: 1,182 (2.64%)

 Anaxa: 1,759 (3.93%)

 Argenti: 1,464 (3.27%)

 Arlan: 269 (0.6%)

 Asta: 416 (0.93%)

 Aventurine: 7,550 (16.88%)

 Bailu: 555 (1.24%)

 Black Swan: 720 (1.61%)

 Blade: 9,625 (21.52%)

 Boothill: 2,045 (4.57%)

 Bronya: 1,253 (2.8%)

Caelus: 4,571 (10.22%)

 Castorice: 1,033 (2.31%)

 Cipher: 466 (1.04%)

 Clara: 249 (0.56%)

 Dan Heng: 10,672 (23.86%)

 Dr. Ratio: 6,347 (14.19%)

 Feixiao: 651 (1.46%)

 Firefly: 1,679 (3.75%)

 Fu Xuan: 890 (1.99%)

 Gallagher: 1,133 (2.53%)

 Gepard: 1,833 (4.1%)

 Guinaifen: 294 (0.66%)

 Hanya: 131 (0.29%)

 Herta: 849 (1.9%)

 Himeko: 2,973 (6.65%)

 Hook: 227 (0.51%)

 Huohuo: 234 (0.52%)

 Hyacine: 612 (1.37%)

 Jade: 790 (1.77%)

 Jiaoqiu: 872 (1.95%)

 Jing Yuan: 6,342 (14.18%)

 Jingliu: 1,048 (2.34%)

 Kafka: 3,408 (7.62%)

 Lingsha: 186 (0.42%)

 Luka: 335 (0.75%)

 Luocha: 859 (1.92%)

 Lynx: 286 (0.64%)

 March 7th: 4,437 (9.92%)

 Misha: 233 (0.52%)

 Moze: 624 (1.4%)

 Mydei: 4,002 (8.95%)

 Natasha: 804 (1.8%)

 Pela: 426 (0.95%)

 Phainon: 4,800 (10.73%)

 Qingque: 362 (0.81%)

 Rappa: 120 (0.27%)

 Robin: 1,531 (3.42%)

 Ruan Mei: 712 (1.59%)

 Sampo: 1,939 (4.34%)

 Seele: 1,193 (2.67%)

 Serval: 973 (2.18%)

 Silver Wolf: 1,837 (4.11%)

 Sparkle: 584 (1.31%)

Stelle: 5,003 (11.19%)

 Sunday: 3,483 (7.79%)

 Sushang: 498 (1.11%)

 Tingyun: 379 (0.85%)

 Topaz: 1,388 (3.1%)

 Tribbie: 505 (1.13%)

 Welt: 3,038 (6.79%)

 Xueyi: 111 (0.25%)

 Yanqing: 2,048 (4.58%)

 Yukong: 427 (0.95%)

Yunli: 294 (0.66%)

MasterList

[tabulaatlas]

Hsr Voicelines about...

Voicelines from the characters from Honkai: Star Rail about the player/reader. Written as platonic.

Part 4.1: <Xianzhou> <Yaoqing and Zhuming >

Feixiao

About You: Quick-witted and open-hearted. The same can't be said for their fighting.

Chat-Regard: I have always thought about raising a disciple, especially after seeing how Yanqing has fared. I can't stop thinking about it, but they immediately fell off the list. They are too good-hearted. Under Jiaoqi's care, though, they would work wonders.

Added to Team: Don't worry, I'll take them. Make sure no one gets me from behind.

Parting: Another day comes to an end. Hey, how about we grab a bite before we part? My treat.

Jiaoqiu

About You: Even without senses, you would know immediately that they were there. For better or for worse.

Chat-Regard: They claim to be able to handle spices. Some they have, some they haven't even tried. Perhaps they're afraid of an allergic reaction if they haven't tried it. If so, that's a valid but inconvenient concern. If not…

Added to Team: Stay by my side. You are terribly fragile for the amount of kindness you give.

Parting: Let's meet up with the others and have dinner before you leave.

Moze

About You: On their first visit to the General, they made a terrible mess. I cleaned it up afterwards, of course. I should make sure it doesn't happen again in the future.

Chat-Regard: Feixiao told me to keep an eye on them when they were arguing with people who were causing trouble. Once their opponents became aggressive, so I tried to intervene. They stopped me before I could clean up the place and we left before they could be harmed. Then they insisted on lecturing me. It was longer than the healers' lectures.

Added to Team: Stand back, I will deal with them quickly.

Parting: I will see you around. You probably won't.

Yunli

About You: Yanqing introduced us and, as I do, I invited them to spar so that we could get to know each other. To this day, we have never crossed swords! They say 'You shouldn't fight unless provoked' and 'One of us might get seriously hurt'. I don't understand them. Suit yourself, I suppose.

Chat-Regard: I think I'm beginning to understand why they don't want to draw their weapons. They try to solve everything peacefully. It takes a lot more time, but it is also more efficient. I guess we both spar in different ways.

Added to Team: HEY, if you want to pick on them, you have to go through me first!

Parting: Oh! Oh! Before you go, how about we go to one of my favourite restarounds? My treat!

Lingsha

About You: They seem to be worryingly indifferent to their own health and mental well-being. I suppose I try to allay their fears a little, but in the end it's their own fault for getting themselves into trouble.

Chat-Regard: Further observation suggests that their brains and hearts may have been switched at birth. They think with their heart and feel with their logic. Not a bad trait, but they will be more sad than happy in the future. Or not. We'll see.

Added to Team: Are they giving you problems? Don't worry, I'll talk to them.

Parting: Go take a break. I don't want to see you at the Alchemy Commission unless it's an invitation for tea.

[mdhwrites]

Free to Play Pull Statistics Between Star Rail and Genshin

So doing my "Is HSR Predatory blog?" I found a really nice site that has graphics for pulls. Checked a couple for recent statistics but it raised a very real question. Or set of questions. So here is me showing you all that I was once interested in becoming an accountant: (All data gotten from Honkai.gg and Traveller.gg)

Oh, and I didn't count HSR's 1.0 patch because it is a SEVERE outlier to the rest and seemed unfair to include in proper analysis, especially once I chose to compare it to Genshin.

Star Rail's worst patch was 1.1 with 63 pulls Since 1.5, there has never been a patch with less than 80 pulls (all numbers given are for ftp players) The best patches were 2.0 and 2.1 at 114 pulls, but one is a new planet and the other was the one year celebration. As such, 2.6 is the highest regular patch, giving 111 thanks to The Unknowable Domain. The average passes for a patch so far in Star Rail is 89 pulls, one less than hard pity on a five star.

And for the 'Genshin Could Never' crowd, I went 13 patches back:

Its best patch is 5.0 but new continent so the other best is 4.1 at 102. Its 4.0 patch, with a new continent, had 85 pulls, which is below the average of Star Rail. Its lowest is an ABYSMAL 49 pulls for 3.7. And its average is 73 pulls per patch.

I'm not trying to shit on Genshin btw, I was just curious since they are compared to each other so often. Hope you all found this neat and have a lovely day!

(I might have tried to go further back for Genshin, just out of curiosity, but it stopped having records at 3.3 on Travellers, at least as far as I could find.)

[iustitians]

ooc; mun & muse introduction

(peeks from behind Neuvillette's shoulder) Hello! Several members of GH will recognize me from The Officers Academy, but several will not, so I figured I'd post a little introduction, seeing as the pages on Neuvi's blogs aren't ready yet.

Call me Neffi! I'm a 28 year old she/her disaster from Poland (timezone GMT +1). I have some 7-8 years of roleplay experience in English, though this will be the first time in quite a while I am writing something outside of the Fire Emblem fandom. I have actually only been playing Genshin for only a month and a half or so, but I've been hooked, so I'm already caught up with the main story (though not all story quests yet and I get very confused when stuff from past limited time events gets mentioned, lmao). Aside from Genshin, I mostly play Fire Emblem and Honkai: Star Rail.

In terms of any roleplay rules when writing with me, I'm willing to RP with anyone and I'm happy to write most stuff, but there are some things I won't write and would prefer not to be exposed to, namely sexual NSFW of any kind and themes of heavy alcohol abuse (I'm happy for our muses to share a glass of wine, I'm not happy to have a libation and deal with its results. Your muse can offer, but mine will decline). Never hesitate to approach me if you'd like to discuss and make sure something's fine by me! For my part I'm also always happy to do my best to accommodate for my partner's needs.

As of now I'm also not really interested in shipping. I don't know who will feel more awkward, me or Neuvillette, and it's something I'm neither good at nor very comfortable writing.

---

As for the man, Neuvi is generally going to follow the events of the 4.1 update. When 4.2 comes out, I will adapt as needed, depending on what events occur and what information is revealed.

Neuvillette is something of a spoiler-heavy muse in some regards - however, it's not a given that said spoilers will be mentioned. His true identity is not open knowledge to anyone except (as of now) the Traveler and Paimon. If you believe your muse would know/figure out/sense/etc who he is, we can discuss it before we thread.

Should these themes come into play, I will be using the #genshin spoilers tag on my posts that feature information from the latest story events.

I think that's all from me for now. It's nice to see you and I'm looking forward to writing with you! <3

[honeykaes]

OH SHIT FONTAINE’S TODAY??? I FORGOT

And yeah after this patch…I may risk my guaranteed I was saving for Arlecchino…Wildly depends on their playstyles but I may go for Wriothesly…I wasn’t as interested in either of them until I saw he had handcuffs on his design 💀💀💀

Navia I’m hands down going for though, and Focalors if they aren’t too close together—hopefully I’ll have better luck here than Star Rail, pulling for Kafka is not going well 😬

—☁️ Anon

Well my Kafka pulls was ruined by her colleague Blade >:((

But yeah! At least for me in the US. The update for me will be completed between 7-9 pm, I forgot specifically when tho.

Yes! Arleccino I heard is allegedly pyro but I’m not sure what her weapon is. I probably won’t pull her since I want The 4.1 Boys (tm) and Foçolars.

BYEEE everyone wants to pull Wrio for his handcuffs BUT he’s true masterpiece is stealing V from Arcane’s gloves lmaoo

[medicaldevicesindustrynews]

U.S. Automotive and Railway Adhesives Market Set to Nearly Double: From $2.4 Billion to $4.1 Billion by 2032

The U.S. automotive and railway adhesives and sealants market is experiencing dynamic growth, driven by technological innovations, lightweighting initiatives, and evolving manufacturing processes across transportation sectors. Valued at $2.4 billion in 2024, the market is projected to expand at a robust compound annual growth rate (CAGR) of 6.7% from 2025 to 2032, ultimately reaching $4.1 billion. This impressive growth trajectory reflects the increasing sophistication of modern vehicles and rail systems, where advanced bonding solutions are becoming indispensable for performance, safety, and efficiency.

The Evolution of Transportation Assembly Technologies

Modern automotive and railway manufacturing has undergone a fundamental transformation from traditional mechanical fastening methods to advanced adhesive and sealant technologies. These sophisticated bonding solutions offer superior performance characteristics including enhanced structural integrity, improved vibration dampening, better corrosion resistance, and the ability to join dissimilar materials effectively. Unlike conventional welding or mechanical fasteners, adhesives distribute stress more evenly across bonded surfaces, resulting in stronger, more durable assemblies.

In automotive applications, adhesives and sealants serve critical functions ranging from structural bonding in body-in-white assembly to sealing applications that protect against moisture, dust, and noise infiltration. Railway applications demand even more stringent performance requirements, with adhesives and sealants needing to withstand extreme temperature variations, constant vibration, and harsh environmental conditions while maintaining structural integrity over decades of service life.

Lightweighting Revolution Driving Market Expansion

The automotive industry's relentless pursuit of fuel efficiency and emissions reduction is creating unprecedented demand for lightweight materials and the specialized adhesives required to bond them effectively. Aluminum, carbon fiber, advanced high-strength steels, and composite materials are increasingly replacing traditional steel components, necessitating sophisticated adhesive technologies capable of joining these diverse material combinations.

Electric vehicle production is amplifying this trend, as manufacturers seek to maximize battery range through aggressive weight reduction strategies. EV battery pack assembly relies heavily on structural adhesives to ensure optimal thermal management, crashworthiness, and long-term reliability. The growing EV market segment is creating entirely new adhesive application areas, from battery cell bonding to thermal interface materials and electromagnetic interference shielding.

Railway manufacturers are similarly embracing lightweighting initiatives to improve energy efficiency and increase payload capacity. Modern rail cars utilize aluminum extrusions, composite panels, and advanced steel alloys that require specialized bonding solutions to achieve the structural performance and longevity demanded by rail operators.

Advanced Chemistry Meeting Performance Demands

The adhesives and sealants industry is responding to increasing performance requirements with innovative chemical formulations that deliver enhanced capabilities. Structural acrylics, polyurethanes, epoxies, and silicones are being engineered with improved temperature resistance, faster cure times, and enhanced durability characteristics.

Smart adhesive technologies are emerging that can adapt to changing conditions or provide diagnostic capabilities. These include thermally conductive adhesives for electric vehicle battery thermal management, vibration-dampening formulations for noise reduction, and even adhesives with embedded sensors that can monitor bond integrity over time.

UV-curable and light-activated adhesive systems are gaining traction for their rapid processing capabilities and environmental benefits. These technologies enable faster production cycles while reducing volatile organic compound emissions, aligning with increasingly stringent environmental regulations.

Manufacturing Process Innovation and Automation

The integration of adhesives and sealants into automated manufacturing processes is driving significant market growth. Robotic dispensing systems, automated mixing equipment, and precision application technologies are enabling manufacturers to achieve consistent quality while reducing labor costs and cycle times. These automated systems can precisely control adhesive placement, cure conditions, and quality verification, resulting in more reliable bonded assemblies.

Lean manufacturing principles are also influencing adhesive selection, with manufacturers favoring single-component systems that eliminate mixing requirements and reduce potential for application errors. Room-temperature curing formulations are preferred where possible to minimize energy consumption and simplify production processes.

Regulatory Environment and Safety Standards

Stringent safety regulations in both automotive and railway sectors are driving demand for higher-performance adhesive solutions. Crash safety standards require structural adhesives to maintain integrity under extreme loading conditions, while fire safety regulations for rail applications demand flame-retardant formulations with low smoke and toxicity characteristics.

Environmental regulations are also shaping product development, with increasing emphasis on low-VOC formulations, recyclable bonding solutions, and sustainable raw material sourcing. These regulatory trends are creating opportunities for innovative companies that can develop environmentally compliant products without sacrificing performance.

Market Dynamics and Competitive Landscape

The market is characterized by a combination of large multinational chemical companies and specialized adhesive manufacturers serving niche applications. Innovation cycles are accelerating as manufacturers seek competitive advantages through proprietary formulations and application technologies. Strategic partnerships between adhesive suppliers and OEMs are becoming increasingly common, enabling collaborative development of customized solutions for specific applications.

Supply chain considerations have gained prominence following recent global disruptions, with manufacturers seeking to diversify supplier bases and reduce dependence on single-source materials. This trend is creating opportunities for domestic adhesive producers and spurring investment in North American manufacturing capacity.

Future Growth Prospects and Emerging Opportunities

The projected growth to $4.1 billion by 2032 reflects both expanding existing applications and emerging opportunities in next-generation transportation technologies. Autonomous vehicles will require new sensor mounting and protection solutions, while hydrogen fuel cell vehicles present unique sealing and bonding challenges. High-speed rail development could create substantial new demand for specialized railway adhesives and sealants.

The market's strong growth trajectory, driven by technological innovation and evolving manufacturing requirements, positions automotive and railway adhesives and sealants as a dynamic sector offering significant opportunities for suppliers, manufacturers, and investors focused on advanced materials and transportation technology convergence.

[genshinnrambles]

UPDATE: I don’t want to speak too soon, but pretty sure number 1 and number 3 are the same thing. It is going to be long. Get ready, I am posting it later tonight.

hello y’all, happy weekend.

there are three posts I’d like to write before 4.1:

1. a speculative analysis of rhinedottir’s intentions and her “sin”

2. a theory on expy’s* through the Document Object Model

3. the prophecy of sin and the primordial sea - a part 2 to the last theory post

*”exported character,” or a character that has a counterpart of some sort in another hoyoverse game, such as Raiden Mei in Honkai Impact 3rd and Raiden Ei + Raiden Makoto in Genshin.

There’s been a partial explanation for this in Honkai Star Rail already, but I want to take it a step further than Mr. Welt Yang does.

this is in no particular order, first two will be short posts and last one will be a long post.

additionally, I’ve decided to keep my honkai lore and analysis posts separate from this blog, but if you are a fellow dan heng stan then you are welcome to scream with me about the dragon boy on @/astrophyta, my main (or just into honkai games generally).

also how about those fatui reintroduction posts for the twins and freminet? my arlecchino hype is immeasurable.

[hf-brainrot]

Fanfic statistics: Honkai Star Rail, categories

Total number of fics: 48,824

F/F: 6,211 (12.72%)

F/M: 7,955 (16.29%)

M/M: 29,741 (60.91%)

Gen: 4,977 (10.19%)

Multi: 1,932 (3.96%)

Other: 2,003 (4.1%)

MasterList