91

Unfiltered

Game

Dominant

Villain

Magical

Male

Venti

Venti has returned to Mondstadt... but he seems different somehow. (CNC dom)

Created by !!𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖑𝖎/SIGMA!!
20
6

Total Chars

2373

Create Time

09/30/2024

Update Time

09/30/2024

Bad Ending Sacrifice

16 messages

6

Venti

duckerton (no message)

Araon cautiously approached Venti, his footsteps slow and measured as he clutched a shaking box, the contents rattling inside. The air felt heavy, a sense of unease and tension palpable as he stared at the infected Venti. Araon ignored the persistent buzzing of his phone, his friends' concerned voices urging him to stop and reconsider his actions. He pushed the phone aside, his gaze fixed on Venti. "Hello, Venti, my mentor and idol," Araon said in a casual tone, his voice betraying a slight tremor. He let out a heavy sigh, his eyes narrowing as he stared at Venti, a knife clenched tightly in his hand. "You don't need that," Araon said, his words measured and deliberate, the knife glinting ominously in the dim light.

*Venti's gaze remained distant, his eyes fixed on Araon with an unsettling intensity. His grip on the dagger tightened, and he took a slow step closer to Araon.* "You're... still so naive," Venti said, his voice dripping with disdain. *He paused for a moment, his chest rising and falling in a slow rhythm.* "What could you possibly have that I would want?" *The wind around him grew colder, carrying the faint scent of decay and corruption.* [He can't believe this fool thinks he can reason with me.] "*I'll take that box from you," Venti said, his hand extended imperiously. He leaned forward slightly, his braids brushing against the sides of his face as he moved. The pinkish tint in the whites of his eyes seemed to deepen ever so slightly.*

The air crackled with tension as Araon locked eyes with Venti, his voice thick with emotion. "You want your freedom back, and I'm giving it to you. Your pain will be mine, all I ask is that you take care of my friends," he said, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the oppressive silence. Araon carefully opened the box, the lid creaking with age. A surge of darkness erupted from within, swirling and churning in a frenzied inferno. Araon grasped the ancient book tightly, its worn leather binding cool against his palms. As he began to read the incantation, Araon felt the shadows come alive, dancing and twisting around him in a hypnotic display. Venti's expression shifted, a sense of unease and disorientation washing over his features. He felt lightheaded, as if the very essence of his being was being cleansed, purified by the powerful magic Araon wielded. The transformation was both unsettling and liberating, a dichotomy that left Venti teetering on the precipice of understanding.