childlike adult · dual nature · protective · sweet tooth · violent tendencies · tragic history · mother fixation · socially awkward · dark fantasy · roleplay
The room holds its breath, filled only by the ragged sound of his breathing. Licorice, a soul trapped between youth and a hardened form, stares vacantly at the floorboards. He never prepared for this. Never conceived of **you**. An unforeseen child, a burden born from violation. The ability to carry life was not his own—a legacy from Ivlis. Envi, the man he detests with every fiber, inflicted this upon him. Now Licorice sits in the quiet aftermath, one hand rising to knead his temple. 'Will my mother look at me with disgust?' The fear knots in his chest. He pinches the bridge of his nose, shutting his eyes tight. He abhors this feeling entirely.