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rukkiya · 3 months ago

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didn’t mean a thing

˚✧ ﾟneuvillette x reader, wriothesley x reader (separate) ˚✧ ﾟ

(they say something mean to reader when reader tries to surprise them)

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

neuvillette

The chief of justice often feels the pressure of his role. Lately the cases have been weighing heavy on him, more so than usual.

The amount of unattended cases and trials to come up only makes the judge more anxious, more stressed, and worst of all more irritable.

He hasn’t been taking care of himself, often prioritizing his job over his health and it breaks your heart. You’ve caught him taking naps in his office when you’d stop by to visit so you thought of making him something to help him during his times when he sleeps.

You're a local seamstress, but you have a good hand for crocheting as well. You often make small crochet plushies for the orphans and melusines so you thought a small pillow would work wonders for nevi when he takes naps in his office.

The iudex is sat at his desk reading over one of the many cases piled up next to him. His migraine forms as he sighs, taking a sip of cool water in hopes to somewhat ease it.

He hears a soft knock at his door and ignores it at first. The people he works with know not to bother the chief when he has this much work to do. but the knock is heard again making him sigh, putting the documents down.

“Come in.” He calls out, seeing your head peek in, a soft smile already playing on your lips.

“Hello love!” you beam, you love visiting your husband at work. You don’t get to see him home too often, you take any chance you get to drop by.

“Hello,” he greets back, mouth forming a straight line. “Is something the matter?” He asks, wasting no time.

“No, I just wanted to drop off something for you.” You smile, feeling how off he was right away. He must be so drained you think, trying to dismiss the uninterested tone in his voice.

You pull a small bag from behind your back and walk up to him, holding it out for him to grab.

His face remains neutral and you feel small under his gaze, regretting interrupting his work.

It’s strange though, he usually always welcomes you with a warm smile, ushering you in to spend time with him. Today was different.

He begrudgingly moves his chair back and eyes the bag.

What’s so important that you have to interrupt his work?

He grabs the bag from you and you pull your hand back as he peeks in, moving the wrapping paper aside.

His hand comes up to the bridge of his nose when he sees a small pillow with blue and white lace trimming at the edges in the bag.

He doesn't know what he expected and he doesn’t understand why he feels so bothered but he can’t help it.

“Is this all?” He asks, putting the wrapping paper back on top, handing you the bag back like it was something that made him upset.

“I made it for you. You often take breaks and sleep in your office so I thought-“

“That’s the problem you know.” He cuts you off before you can finish, making you step back a bit.

“You think, what you do will make things better for people or you know what people need.” He brushes off the small gift like nothing.

“I just wanted you to get proper rest, you look tired. I know you haven’t been getting much sleep because of all the cases and-“

“And you’re the one stopping me from finishing them right now, right? I don’t need you always checking up or stopping by when you feel like it. Some of us take our jobs seriously. It’s suffocating having you stop by everyday. I need space and time to do my own job alone. Thank you very much.” He’s almost out of breath by the end of it, his eyes narrow at you, you feel what the verdicts of the cases feel when he judges them.

You don’t know what to say. You feel small under his gaze and he doesn’t even flinch, after all he’s said he stands his ground.

“Forgive me for worrying in the slightest, it won’t happen again.” Your voice falls flat, you dig your nails in your palm to stop the sting in your eyes as you turn to leave.

Reaching the door you half expect him to stop you, apologize or something but it never happens. You step outside and feel your tears drop, lowering your head from gazes around you.

You head to your home with a heavy heart. You feel utterly stupid. You should’ve seen the signs, you knew he was on edge because of work and you walked right into it like a spider's web.

You reach your house feeling drained. You slowly make your way to your room to continue working on small plushies for the orphans to take your mind off the harsh words you hear earlier. Throwing the small pillow you made into the trash before you get to work. He doesn’t want it and neither do you.

Neuvillette lets out a content sigh. He’s done his work, more than half of the cases he’s reviewed and he feels better. Enough to call it a day and head home somewhat earlier than normal. Maybe he can catch a meal with you, something he hasn’t done in ages.

He opens the door to your shared home and takes note of how quiet it is. Is it usually this quiet when you’re alone?

The living room was dim, the only source of light was flooding the from the cracks of your shared bedroom.

He hangs his coat and makes his way to your shared bedroom. He wants nothing more than to spend time with you.

You hear your bedroom door creak but don’t bother to turn around, already knowing who it was. You made a promise to yourself to stop being overbearing with him, he told you it’s suffocating, you never want him to feel that way with you.

He feels his lips tug upwards a bit at the sight of you. You were stitching some plushies, your work always so beautiful and delicate.

“Hello my love.” He speaks softly, he knows he acted out of place earlier but he wants to make it up to you. He knows you only care, that just the kind of sweet genuine person you are.

“Hello.” You welcome him barely above whisper, not looking up at him. You lay in bed crocheting a small plushie.

“Are you going to drop those off at the orphanage tomorrow?” He asks, heart filling with utter adoration at the sight of you making your beautiful plushies.

“Yes.” You answer, nodding your head as you cut the end of the yarn off.

“Would you like me to assist you?” He asks, you feel like it’s a trick question. After all he has told you today he asks this?

“No need. You have work, I can go with Navia.” You decline, he stands there for a second before clearing his throat.

“Why of course, please send my regards when you stop by.” He asks and you nod.

What’s wrong? You’ve never declined his offers of helping you. Were you not feeling well?

“I’m going to wash up dear, afterwards I’ll make us something to eat.” His voice is much softer than earlier. You don’t understand what he wants anymore. It’s confusing.

While Neuvillette was showering you warmed up his portion of the dinner you made, setting it up on his bedside table. You were hurt by his words but you still want him to eat.

After preparing his meal on his bedside table, you grab your pillow and an extra blanket heading to the living room couch. As much as his words hurt you, you still want to hold him, talk to him and have him close but he doesn’t want that. He made it more than clear in his office.

After Neuvillette’s shower, he’s greeted with a meal on his nightstand. He looks around the room and notices you're not in bed anymore. He catches sight of your plushie on your nightstand and thinks you went to use the other restroom.

He gets changed and smiles at the meal you made for him. Always helping him when he knows you work just as hard as he does, if not even harder than he does. You’re passionate about your work and he adores that side of you.

He buttons up his shirt and sits in bed, looking at the clock. It's been over 15 minutes since he’s gotten out. Why weren't you back in bed?

He stands and walks over to your side of the bed where the plushie lays on the nightstand. From the corner of his eye a blue and white lace trimming catches his attention and he looks down at the small bin next to your side of the bed.

He reaches in and pulls out the small pillow you had brought to his office earlier that day, he feels his heart sink. Remembering his harsh words and how he gave it back to you without a second thought. He feels guilty.

You threw this beautiful pillow away because of his foolish outburst. He feels like a fool for talking to you in such a way. Your guarded attitude made more sense now that he realizes it.

He clutches the small pillow in his hold and looks to your side of the bed, noticing your pillow missing.

His legs move on their own, opening your room door greeted with the dark living room only a candle being your source of light.

He can see you laying on the couch and he feels his eyes burn.

As he nears you he hears you crying and his heart tugs at the sound.

He wouldn’t dare let you sleep alone, ever.

He says nothing as he turns to you and you quickly turn away to hide your tears.

He kneels down a bit. Arms circling under your legs and head, picking you up with ease as he grabs your pillow before making his way back to your room.

You feel more tears spill. What was all this? What does he want?

He stops in the room after closing the door behind him. The only sound to be hard was your sniffling before you heard rain, rain droplets hitting your window.

He holds you closer, tighter in his hold.

“My love, I’m terribly sorry for my words that have caused you to feel the need to distance yourself. I’m sorry I disregarded your gift for me. I will cherish it forever.” He whispers, his legs moving once again making his way to your side of the bed.

He softly lays you down before standing again, you see the pillow you thee away on your nightstand and feel more tears spill.

He turns, he knows he should give you space, give you time alone and as much as he wants to hold you he has to respect your boundaries.

Before he can get too far he feels a hug in his wrist, he feels his own tears spill.

Your heart, which is too kind and forgiving, knows him too well. He truly doesn’t deserve you.

“Please don’t leave.” You whisper, he only nods, who’s he to say no? After all he’s done today he’d be a fool.

He climbs into bed, arms immediately grabbing you, laying you on top of him as the rain outside gets louder.

“My love, I apologize for my actions. Please find it in your heart to forgive a fool like me, not right now but when you can.” He can only whisper, if he speaks any louder he’s scared he’ll cry more.

You nod your head as it lays on his chest “yes my love, I do.” you hug him, if he didn’t care, he wouldn’t be here right now you tell yourself. The fact that he’s here right now shows so much.

You hear his heartbeat steady and the rain outside subside. Knowing he’s calmed down, feeling your eyes grow heavy. Neuvillette holds you closer, making a promise to himself and you to never act out of place like that again. Not with you, who’s so caring and giving he’ll cherish you forever along with the pillow you made for him today.

wriothesley

The duke is in charge of many things, running the fortress of meropide is one. Dealing with troublesome inmates to make sure they know their place and meetings that consist of various things for him to arrange.

Wriothesley was making his way back from a meeting with Neuvillette. He has asked him about an inmate, asking him to bring him up for further questioning, giving him the inmates name and number before he left.

Neuvillette had given him a small paper with the number and name. Wriothesly had memorized it just after a few glances at the small paper. But during his busy day out he has misplaced it. And as the day went on he was worried he’d forget.

He didn’t want to trouble Neuvillette with another meeting to give him the number again so he’s been repeating it while making his way to his office.

You decided to bring Wrio some food and tea. Upon arriving at his office you found it empty and decided to surprise him for when he comes back. Sitting on the small couch by his desk, setting up his meal for when he comes.

You often have one or two days out of the month where you catch up and eat lunch together in his office. It's one of the ways that you get to see him more besides when he comes home to sleep.

No one dared to stop the duke as he made his way to his office, the look on his face alone was screaming don’t approach me right now.

You hear his office door open and hear his footsteps echoing up the staircase, you stand up and wait by the edge of the stairs happy to see him.

He doesn’t even look your way when he reaches the top, instead he brushes past you. Mumbling some numbers under his breath.

“Wrio.” You call out softly, making him whip his head back. He didn’t even notice you were here, let alone see you standing right by him.

“What’re you doing here?” He asks, it comes out harsher than he intends.

“I brought you food! We haven’t had lunch in a while, I made your favorite too. It’s been sometime since we’ve sat down and had a home cooked meal.” You beam, smiling at him and pointing to his desk behind him where you set up the food.

“That’s great, but right now isn’t the time.” He brushes you off. Walking to the cabinet where all the inmates' files are repeating the number in his head still.

“I'm not trying to tell you what to do, but you tend to look over your health because of work. This can help you focus on your work more! I even brought your favorite tea to go with it.” You walk to his desk and pour the hot tea into his favorite cup.

“Just take a second and eat, take care of yourself and-“

“Do you ever stop?” He feels his grip on the cabinet tighten as he closes his eyes, taking a deep breath.

You stop talking and look over at him.

“I’m sorr-“

“I have an office to do my work, for peace and quiet as I do so. No one has the right to waltz in here and think they can have a tea party and talk their heads off while I work.” He slowly turns to you.

You only swallow, not knowing how to respond.

“You know I have more important things to do than have a meal with you. You talk so much, too much sometimes and you don’t know when to stop and it’s bothersome. Learn how to stop at times and not bother people when they’re working, yeah?” He scolds, roughly shoving the cabinet closed.

You look down at the desk, too embarrassed to look him in the eyes.

You feel like you’re glued to the floor. You can’t move.

“I’d like to get back to work, I don’t have time for all this. I’d be best if you went back to work as well.” He sits at his desk with a file and you feel your eyes sting.

Leaving the food on his desk and grabbing your bag. Walking downstairs and away from his office that felt suffocating, you should’ve just minded your business.

You walk out of his office, closing the door softly as his words ring in your head.

Seigwinne sees you, walking up but stopping In his tracks when she sees your solemn expression. She’s studied humans enough to know that the emotion you were feeling was sadness.

You make your way home, stepping inside and locking the door as you feel the first tear run down your face.

You know how much you talk, you know many people don’t like it but Wriothesley never said anything about it. He’s always listened to you, saying it helps him relax. During work he’s often doing the talking so hearing you talk, it brings him peace. He also loves your voice.

When did he start getting annoyed? Has it been a while? What if he’s been tired of hearing me this whole time? You question yourself. Coming to the conclusion that you need to stop. Stop talking so much and taking up his time. It’s for the better.

When Wriothesley ends the meeting with the inmate he finally feels some tension release from his shoulders. He’s been running around all day and he hasn’t had time to sit in peace.

From the time on the clock he sees it reaching seven pm and decides to call it a day. He’s done the most important task already. He can attend other matters tomorrow.

As he cleans up his desk he notices the food and tea, remembering you stopped by earlier to chat with him. Remembering what a jerk he was and how he told you to leave.

He sighs when he notices what you made. You have a habit of putting others' priorities before yours and he feels bad for how he responded. He packs up the food to take it back home, to reheat and eat with you like you wanted.

When he arrives home, he notices how quiet it was inside. He pushes the door open and is met with a small lamp in the kitchen and spots you sitting on the couch, book in hand.

“I’m home darling.” He calls out, seeing you turn to him, giving him a small smile then turning back to your book.

His eyebrows draw together, he loves coming home and seeing you. Always so excited and giddy asking him about his day and telling him about yours but you didn’t even respond to him.

“I brought the food you made back home, I wanted to reheat it and eat with you. We haven’t spent time with each other in a while.” He speaks up, pulling his tie down a-bit as he still sees you reading your book.

Why weren’t you responding? He thinks, you’re never this quiet.

“Have you eaten?” He pushes, trying to get something out of you, anything.

“Not hungry.” You answer, simple and quick. Not even looking away from your book this time.

He feels nervous. He feels something off.

“I’ll heat it up, if you want some please eat.” He sighs, the tension is heavy but nothing happens. He knows something’s off with you.

In silence the duke eats alone on the table, sending you glances as you continue to turn the pages of your book. Not indulging him in your ranting he’s come to grow ‘annoyed of’. He made it clear earlier.

“The food is delicious, thank you for making this.” He tires again, this time you look up. He smiles a bit but you do something that makes him believe something is off, you only send him a thumbs up in return.

He finishes his half and saves you yours for when you get hungry, putting it away and making his way to you.

“Y/n darling. Is something the matter?” He asks, making his way closer to you. Seeing you shift uncomfortably from where you sit.

“Nope.” You shake your head, not daring to look at him. You can feel him coming closer.

He kneels down, inspecting you. The corners of your eyes were a bit red, but nothing else seemed off. Were you feeling sick?

His hand reaches up to feel your forehead but you move away.

“I’m not sick.” You speak up as you dodge his touch. He feels his hand freeze.

“Use your words, what’s wrong? Why aren’t you talking to me?” He asks, placing hands next to both sides of your legs caging you in.

“I’m not one of your inmates, don’t order me to do things.” You speak up, still not daring to look up at him, you can feel his piercing eyes on you.

He’s taken aback at your response.

“I’m not ordering you y/n, I’m just worried.” He sighs, pulling your book down to get you to look at him.

“I said I’m fine, can I get back to reading?” You glance up at him. Trying your best to not let anything slip though. You don’t want him to see how much his words hurt you.

He decides to stop, for now. He knows something’s wrong. You’re too stubborn to tell him though.

He walks into your shared bedroom and into the bathroom to shower, racking his brain to think of what possibly could have made you so upset. The whole time he spends in there he can’t think of why you’re refusing to respond properly.

It’s already later when he gets out, the steam from the bathroom becoming visible when he opens the door.

He sees you in bed and he can help but feel at ease. You came to bed at least. He walks over to the closet eyes you as he does, a small smile making its way onto his lips at the sight of how you look.

He starts changing and notices you’re faced away from him. He quietly steps around and sees you hugging a pillow and he feels this heavy feeling in his chest again.

Did he do something?

He lays down next to you, you feel the bed dip and try your hardest to not turn around. You’d probably hug him and start talking and annoy him again. He probably doesn't want that.

You feel like such a fool. All day his words have been affecting you. You’re too scared to speak again.

You hug the pillow closer to you and feel your eyes burn once again. Hearing those words from him hurt more than anything. You don’t want to show him how much it hurts you though. He doesn’t need to know. He said what he said and what’s done is done.

He lays there for a bit, the tension still surrounding you. He’s unsure of what to do. He wants to hold you, pull you in but what if you move again.

That’s when he hears it, the small sound of sniffing. He freezes. His heart drops making him stand.

You feel the bed move and hear him stand, you think the worst. Maybe he’s leaving because he’s annoyed. He doesn’t want to deal with this. You don’t know why you’re crying but it won’t stop. He just told you something that bothered him and you took it too personally. You’re both hurt and upset and you don’t understand why.

It’s quiet for a few seconds but then you feel a firm hand gently grab your arm, lifting you off the bed effortlessly.

You try to hide your face but Wriothesley has had enough of this.

“Hey hey, look at me.” He softly calls out.

You try to hold it in but you feel more tears run down. Placing your hands on his chest and pushing him away but his sturdy frame doesn’t budge.

“I’m fine, j-just tired.” You try to sound convincing despite your voice cracking. Struggling against his hold, pushing him a bit harder to move.

You resist in his hold and he feels his heart break even more.

“Y/n what’s wrong?” He grabs your hands, stopping your struggle and you look down, not wanting to look at him.

“Nothing, I’ve talked enough today. I don’t want to anymore.” You try to sound convincing, trying to pull your arms out of his grasp.

He’s taken aback, talked too much? You haven’t even talked at all. Where is this even coming from- oh.

He stills, eyes boring into your head as you avoid his gaze.

“I didn’t mean it earlier y/n. I didn’t mean anything I said earlier. It doesn’t excuse if I was mad or busy telling you that wasn't something I ever meant. I love hearing you talk. I love your voice. Don’t ever think that I want you to stop.” He explains, knowing he was the reason for it all now. What a jerk he’s been.

He drops his head, resting it on yours. He waits a bit seeing if you’d pull away but you don’t. “Darling, I’m sorry. From the bottom of my heart I am. I miss hearing you talk. The house is eerily quieter without your beautiful voice and laughter echoing through these halls.” He speaks softly, hearing a small sob escape your lips.

You move back a bit, looking up at him and taking a breath. “But you told me- I don’t want to annoy you.” You hiccup, finally letting more tears fall. It’s been eating you alive. It hurts. It hurts so bad because someone you love told you.

“No no, you’d never, and you never ever had. Do you understand?” He makes it clear, seeing your pretty eyes filled with tears he grabs your face.

Your behavior makes sense now, how could he have been so mean to you? He truly is such a fool.

His hands slowly lift to your face, testing the waters to see if you’d pull away, but you don’t pull back. “Please talk to me. Don’t hold back or hide your voice dear. Scold me, tell me what I did wrong.” He pleads, the look in his eyes desperate.

You nod, wiping your tears when he brings your head to his chest hugging you close. “Please forgive me.” He repeats, squeezing you tighter when you let out a small ‘yes’.

He holds you close, and though you said you forgive him. He can’t take you for granted, not when you’re the best thing to ever come into his dull life. So he repeats it over and over, until you both fall asleep.

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authors note: hello my lovelies HIIIIII!!! (/^▽^)/ it’s been a while but I come with a gift ANGST!! hehe neuvi and Wrio are such sweet men this was kind of a rough one but them with them seems so AMAZING! I hope you all had a lovely holiday and you’re all taking care! Hope I enjoy yet another angst with comfort! take care loves, bagel miss u all mwahhh <33 ^~^! (DISCLAIMER!! this was not edited or looked over, apologies for any misspelled words or incorrect grammar!!)

#genshin impact #genshin impact oneshots #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact angst #genshin impact hurt/comfort #genshin impact neuvillette #genshin impact wriothesley #neuvillette x reader #wriosthesley x reader #genshin angst #hurt/comfort #neuvillette angst #wriothesley angst

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chrollogy · 4 months ago

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EPISODE 2: CHOCOLATE GONE WRONG

neuvillette x f!reader

NNN ‘24 masterlist | Next Episode

DETAILS: Neuvillette finds himself itching to break the sacred rule of No Nut November after naïvely indulging in aphrodisiac-laced chocolates gifted by Sigewinne—a popular craze among young Fontanian adults.

DURATION: 5.3k

CONTENT ADVISORY: explicit smut, mdni, porn without plot, p in v, creampie, neuvi has two cocks + emphasis on his draconic features, use of aphrodisiacs (neuvillette), neuvi uses his cane as a makeshift leg spreader bar, pet names (ma/mon chérie, ma belle, (my) love), not beta read

DIRECTOR’S NOTES: divider: cafekitsune. round 2! also i’m not quite sure i will get the next two fics out in time (or if i’m getting them out at all) but i will try my best T_T. your lil moon is having a rough patch rn so yeah but nonetheless enjoy!

For Neuvillette, the month of November was nothing significant to say the least—his job continued, overseeing trials, sorting out documents, meeting with important people, and more workload now that Lady Furina had stepped down from archon hood; so, when you had come into his office one day, talking about how a certain trend spread like fire across Teyvat, Neuvillette was rather intrigued.

It had a weird name—No Nut November—and couldn’t quite wrap his mind around the idea based on the name alone. He remembered how you explained to him Fontanians, and people of other nations were to engage in No Nut November which was to participate in sexual abstinence.

Naturally, the idea was all bizarre to him—not because he thought he couldn’t do it but more so the fact that it was natural for humans to engage in intercourse, same goes for his kind as well. Neuvillette couldn’t see the significance of such a trend, and why humans were participating but who was he to deny your proposal of a challenge? After all, there was no harm involved, he figured it would help him understand human customs a little better despite the it’s strangeness in nature.

Situated behind his desk, Neuvillette let out a deep sigh, letting the papers in his hand fall onto the wooden desk beneath before rubbing his temples.

“Stressed, Monsieur?” A familiar, teasing voice sliced through the suffocating silence of the Iudex’s office. Neuvillette looked up from his desk, greeted by a friendly figure. The former was too focused on the case materials before him that he hadn’t realised the presence of another, “Wriothesley. I’m rather surprised to see you.”

The raven-haired male was clad in his usual attire, heavy obsidian boots sounding with each step taken against the carpeted floors.

“Ah, you’re not the only one.” Wriothesley chuckled, recalling his encounter with Sedene just mere seconds ago, who looked like she had just seen a ghost. Before Neuvillette could inquire about the sudden visit, the former beat him to it,

“Don’t worry, I won’t take up much of your time. I’m here because Sigewinne had given me an errand to run. She got these for you.” Taking a couple steps closer to Neuvillette’s desk, Wriothesley placed a small box atop the case papers. Carefully wrapped in an ivory satin ribbon, the azure container was adorned with intricate designs in gold that shone beneath the afternoon sun, neatly decorated chocolates peeked from the plastic window of the lid.

The Chief Justice subtly raised his brows in amusement, he wasn’t one to indulge in chocolate nor was he a sweet tooth but nonetheless, he appreciated Sigewinne’s thoughtful gesture.

“That is very kind, please thank her for me.”

Watching the way Neuvillette’s expression morphed into a naïve smile, Wriothesley crossed his arms over his chest, “Say, Monsieur, have you heard of the craze among young Fontanian adults right now?” He most likely already knew the Iudex’s answer to the question but what was life without a little teasing?

With how the popular sweet has been making rounds across Fontaine, it would be near impossible for anyone to be clueless about it but at the end of the day, Neuvillette was Neuvillette, probably the busiest man in all of Fontaine which is why Sigewinne had to intervene with the chocolates. The head nurse didn’t have to physically see the Iudex to tell how much he’s been overworking himself nor was a simple order from her was going to stop him.

So, what better way to disguise a remedy with something simple? Basically akin to administering medication to a pet concealed as a tasty treat

Sexual intercourse was the fastest—and best—way to relieve him of his stress. Sigewinne hoped for the Iudex to pardon her complete brazenness but he was as stubborn as a rock, and took her orders about resting rather lightly.

Naturally, Neuvillette shook his head with a light chuckle, a tinge of interest seeping its way into his skin, “I believe I’ve heard her talk about it but the details must have slipped my mind.” A subtle blush blanketed the Chief Justice’s pale cheeks at the mention of his lover, you. Wriothesley’s lips stretched into a teasing smile—one which the former paid no attention to.

“Well, would you ever try an aphrodisiac?” At Neuvillette’s baffled expression, the younger male bit the inside of his cheeks, biting back a hearty laugh.

“An aphrodisiac, you say? Substances that—” “That increases one’s libido, yes.” Wriothesley cut him off, tease practically dripping from his tone. Neuvillette was a man capable of many things, an esteemed individual once he’s in court but when it came to much simpler matters, the Chief Justice was nothing but clueless, especially regarding human customs that are a bit harder to wrap one’s head around.

“I’m afraid I have no such time for trivial things.”

The Iudex shook his head once more, this time dismissively waving a gloved hand at his friend. He cleared his throat, the blush on his cheeks deepening into a crimson hue—Neuvillette wasn’t going to say it out loud, especially not in front of Wriothesley but he deemed himself more than capable of maintaining his sexual desires and performances, you were enough proof.

Wriothesley left it at that, his friend may just end up as red as a tomato if he prodded around the topic any further. Needless to say, amusement filled him to the brim, “Alright. It was nice chatting with you Monsieur. I believe Sigewinne also left a small note there—”

The latter looked down at the box. Indeed, there was a small piece of paper neatly folded and tucked beneath the ivory ribbon.

“—do heed her letter.” With that, Wriothesley dipped his chin, sauntering over to the double doors.

Reaching for the handle, the Duke stopped in his tracks, he looked over his shoulder, icy cerulean gaze full of mischief, “Oh, and I hope you two enjoy—the chocolates, I mean.” With that, he left the office, leaving Neuvillette to his thoughts.

The day went by rather quickly, the azure skies turning into golden hues of oranges and yellows as the sun bid farewell to its people, disappearing below the horizon. The chocolates from Sigewinne remained untouched on the corner of Neuvillette’s desk, it watched as stars decorated the night sky; though, as the Chief Justice retired for the evening, he grabbed the box of sweets before heading out.

Neuvillette figured he’d share them with you at home.

Greeted with silent darkness, he was suddenly reminded of your words this morning at breakfast: ‘Oh, I have work dinner later, my love; so, I won’t be eating here. We’re celebrating a company milestone.’ Conveniently enough, Neuvillette had already eaten at his office before leaving so he won’t have the pleasure of sitting across an empty seat at the dining table.

Getting ready for the chilly night ahead, Neuvillette changed into his evening attire after taking a warm bath, he donned silken azure pyjamas paired with a fluffy ivory robe. His silver strands cascaded down the length of his spine, the cerulean bow, and golden hair clips he usually wore were neatly tucked away inside his jewellery box.

Situated on the love seat, Neuvillette casually flipped through case documents inside a brown paper folder. The fireplace across him was ablazed with hues of oranges and reds, casting a citrine glow upon the dimly lit living room. As flames danced atop dry wood, the dulcet sound of classical music poured from the record player, filling the space with its tunes.

After minutes of skimming and scanning the documents, he reached for the box of sweets next to his lap, taking time to read Sigewinne’s carefully written note:

Monsieur Neuvillette, I’ve acquired these sweets for you, and her! I figured these would help you loosen up a little so please do not shy away from consuming as much as you want. Make sure to share them with her as well. Enjoy!

Love, Sigewinne

A warm smile spread across Neuvillette’s face, and despite his better judgement of waiting for you to come home and indulge in the taste of chocolate together, he figured one piece wouldn’t hurt to try alone, right?

With the moon high up in the obsidian night sky, you walked down the cobblestone footpath that led closer to yours and Neuvillette’s shared space, the evening breeze gently caressing the apple of your cheeks. Work dinner had just concluded at Hotel Debord which housed a lovely singer who put on a dazzling performance.

By now, the streets of the Court of Fontaine were more deserted as people retired to their homes for the night, shop owners here and there packed away their respective signage, their stores devoid of any customers.

With each step leading closer to home, you soon found yourself in front of your home, keys jingling between your fingers as you unlocked the front door. From the entrance hallway, warm hues greeted you like an embrace, hinting at the ablazed fireplace in the living room.

“My love? I’m home.” You called out to Neuvillette while skilfully removing your shoes, and neatly placed them beside his own.

Met with silence, you figured he either must be occupied with something or must have fallen asleep while waiting for your return. You sauntered over to the end of the entrance hallway, making your way to the living room, and as you got closer, melodic sounds engulfed your senses—you recognized it, Neuvillette’s favourite classical music.

Turning the corner, you were greeted with a rather interesting sight, a wave of concern washing over you, “Neuvi—Are you okay?”

Seated on the love seat was Neuvillette, his left elbow propped on its arm rest, face hiding behind his hand. A deep crimson blush painted his handsome face, intensified by the reds and oranges that the fireplace emitted. He sat there looking flustered, chest heaving up and down as he took heavy breaths. Drinking in the view, you noticed documents sprawled across the empty space next to him but what really caught your eye was the intricately designed box resting on his right thigh.

The box had its lid intact yet the loose ivory ribbon draped over his thigh hinted he had previously opened it. Upon closer inspection, you realised it's familiar packaging, a co-worker had shown it to you the other day, telling you how her and her boyfriend have been dying to try the popular chocolates—chocolates laced with a potent aphrodisiac.

Your gaze made its way back to Neuvillette—who was still breathing heavily on the love seat—now noticing the prominent tent beneath his silken pants, the azure fabric was flimsy and delicate which left little to your imagination. Pushing away the impure thoughts that snaked its way into your mind, you kneeled before your lover with a concerned expression,

“My love, who gave these to you?”

Knowing Neuvillette, he most likely consumed the chocolates without knowing its true contents simply because he wasn’t aware of the trivial things that humans indulged themselves in.

He let out a pained groan, shaky and vulnerable as he shifted in his seat, “Forgive me, ma chérie. This is improper of me.” With trembling hands, Neuvillette covered his throbbing groin, completely embarrassed that you had to see him in such a state. Truth be told, he didn’t know what came over him—a chocolate or two was all he had, and the next thing he knew, his skin burned like a thousand suns as blood rushed down, down, down to his cock.

The very core of Neuvillette’s body churned with desire—carnal desire—and as each second passed, each tick of the ivory wall clock, the uncomfortable yearn between his legs grew. A light sheen of sweat coated his feverish forehead, as though he was experiencing a fever, and whatever this was, it heightened all five of his senses.

From your voice sounding like it dripped with pure honey, all the way to the saccharine scent of your body, Neuvillette was driven mad with lust. It didn’t help how you kneeled before him, and gently caressed his thigh, a poor attempt of comfort because it brought nothing but waves of icy shudders down the length of his spine. Sensitive. His body was completely sensitive to any external stimuli, and if you rubbed his leg any further, he might just come undone.

An embarrassing thought.

Neuvillette was pathetically needy. How preposterous, the high esteemed Iudex of Fontaine reduced to nothing but a lust-driven man eager to shove his aching cock deep in your velvety walls. The subtle buck of his hips against the thick air; the way he swallowed breathless whimpers at your touch; the violent throbbing between his legs, he was beyond irredeemable.

With another grunt, Neuvillette panted out, “Sigewinne gifted them. Wriothesley had delivered it to my office this afternoon.”

Truth be told, you weren’t surprised. At all.

Standing up from your spot, you walked over to the wall phone. You tried your best to ignore the dainty whimper that fell from Neuvillette’s lips as your warm touch left his thigh, you also tried to ignore how his body involuntarily sought you out—trembling hands reaching to chase your gentle hold.

With glassy eyes, Neuvillette watched as you deftly dialled on the phone, he couldn’t help but trace your breathtaking figure, from the square of your shoulders all the way to the curves and dips of your legs. Oh, the things he’d do to spread them open, and inhale your sweet essence like a mad man. Neuvillette could practically taste your honey on his tongue, its velvety texture sliding down his throat.

Another groan escaped your lover at the thought of eating you out, his cock rubbed against the fabric of his underwear as it shamelessly twitched beneath his pants.

“Ah, I didn’t think you’d be calling given the . . . circumstances.” Of course Wriothesley knew. Pure tease dripped from his honeyed voice, most likely paired with a smug smile, and an icy, taunting gaze.

“Why would you give him that?!”

A chuckle from the other end of the line, “First of all, I just delivered the present. Our head nurse here bought it. She’s helping Monsieur Neuvillette out.”

You huffed, trying to make sense of Sigewinne’s motives, “By what? Feeding him chocolates with a potent substance?” You’ve always adored how Sigewinne cared for her loved ones, especially Neuvillette—whatever one’s deal was, she was always willing to help out in her own unique way. But this . . giving him such a substance without any warning felt like foul play, and not only was Neuvillette receiving the short end of the stick, you were as well.

You weren’t naïve, aphrodisiacs only wore off after one has reached their satisfaction through sexual means, like quenching one’s thirst.

“You’re making it sound like we gave him drugs.” “It is drugs, Wriothesley!”

Before you could say anything else, gentle, yearning arms wrapped around your front, caressing your stomach which ultimately caught you off guard. Neuvillette. Nuzzling into the junction of your neck just beneath the telephone against your ear, he placed hot, open-mouthed kisses along your sensitive spot, soft smacks of his lips loud enough for Wriothesley to pick up.

You bit back a moan, free hand coming up to rest on the wall to support your weight. Neuvillette’s kisses had your legs trembling, it left prominent goosebumps in its wake as he trailed further down to your shoulder blades.

“Hm. Looks like it's time for me to go. Pass on my best wishes to Monsieur Neuvillette.” And with that, he hung up the phone.

“My apologies, ma chérie. I just—I need you.” Neuvillette sighed, hot breath ghosting over your bare skin, akin to a gentle caress coaxing you into the borders of lust, like a lone finger protruding from the darkness, beckoning you to its endless, sinful void.

“Love—mhm!” You let out a yelp, his hands finding comfort on the curve of your hips, keeping them still as he slotted his clothed cock between your ass. Neuvillette grinded into you, unshameful and devoid of any decorum. Placing the telephone back on the wall, your nails dug into the hearts of your palms, just the feel of his hard cock had you embarrassingly wet already.

Neuvillette was different from this, despite his sexual urges, he was never forward with you, he took his time—sensual and sincere, treating you like the finest piece of gold to ever exist. But saying you weren’t enjoying his brazenness would be a complete lie. Seeing a different side to your lover put you in a rather sensitive state, almost like a virgin bedded for the first time.

Something primal had awoken deep inside his core, and the only way to handle it was to satiate his carnal thirst.

Nonetheless, you tried to get your point across, “Neuvi . . What you’re experiencing is the effect of an aphrodisiac from those chocolates Sigewinne gave you.”

Your words fell deaf on his pointed ears, instead, Neuvillette mumbled some of his own, “I’m sorry . . Ma belle, I promised you about that challenge but it seems I cannot fight my urges any longer.” Another shaky sigh left his rosy lips.

Challenge? Oh.

Oh.

Even in his lust-driven state, Neuvillette was still thinking about the No Nut November challenge you had proposed earlier this month.

“I’m a man of my word but I need you, my love. Let me break the rules just this once, please?” Pure desperation coated every word that came out of his mouth. It was thick like honey, and melted on your skin like snow. God, at this point the stupid challenge wasn’t even on your mind anymore, not when he desperately humped your ass like an animal in heat—quick, little ruts of his hips that soothed the ache a bit better.

Who were you to deny your lover?

The transition from the living room to the shared bedroom was a blur—everything was hasty; desperate hands exploring each other’s bodies; lips sealed together in a rough, passionate kiss; a trail of clothes messily discarded on the floor leading up to the room. Everything Neuvillette did had you on your toes, completely breathless while trying to mirror his hurried actions.

Normally, Neuvillette would bask in your serene glory, peeling clothes off from your body layer by layer, and decorating your exposed skin with butterfly kisses. He’d gently stroke your hair, slender fingers weaving through the strands as he takes in your bare beauty.

Now, his tongue swiftly explored your mouth—lengthy and thick—something he has never done before. It dizzied you.

You landed on the foot of the plush mattress with a soft gasp as Neuvillette pulled away. Breathless and flustered, you stared up at him through your lashes, soft pants escaping your kissed lips. The sight before him made his cock twitch. How your hair was splayed around your head, mimicking a soft halo, a divine being greater than he.

Neuvillette discarded the last two pieces of clothing—pants and underwear—in one fell swoop, and what came into view undoubtedly had you clenching around nothing. Standing proud and heavy at the base of his abdomen were his cocks, both painted in a deep vermillion hue, and generously leaking pre-cum. The sticky pearlescent substance coated his bulbous tips, it glistened beneath the moonlight, beckoning you to wrap your lips around them, and have a feast.

This wasn’t the first time you saw Neuvillette naked nor were you not aware of his kind but it always brought you shock every time, not to mention the faint cerulean scales the underside of his cocks boasted, it was also his sensitive spot.

Stepping out from the puddle of fabric around his ankles, Neuvillette did the same to your undergarments, mindlessly tossing them elsewhere in the room. A low growl sounded from his chest as he pried your legs apart, his deft hands guided them to bend at the knees while resting the soles of your feet on the edge of the mattress, putting your glistening cunt on full display.

In less than a heartbeat, Neuvillette was on his knees, his eager tongue lapping along the length of your slit, your arousal pooled at the tip of his tongue like sinful honey, the divine taste of your cunt prompting another shameless growl from your lover. He repeated the movement a couple of times, each lick reaching closer and closer to your sensitive clit, and when he finally reached it with his hardened tongue, you let out a surprised gasp.

“Neuvillette!”

Shocks of electrifying pleasure kissed its way up your spine as Neuvillette tongued at your swollen bud—tight, fast circles, up and down, side to side, he toyed with you like it was the only thing he knew how to do. Your hands immediately flew to his ivory tresses due to his ministrations, it was almost like playing a game of tug of war, indecisively pushing and pulling his, unsure if you wanted more or if you wanted him to stop and slow down.

Lewd, wet smacks of Neuvillette’s tongue mixed with his low growls filled the room, allowing you to bask in the sounds of pleasure your lover unabashedly made. Almost akin to a vicious beast swallowing down its prey.

As your back arched off the mattress, and the grip on Neuvillette’s hair tightening, he pulled away, earning a rather disappointed whine to fall from your lips. Sweet arousal abundantly coated his lips and chin, bringing warmth to your cheeks. No one in the room dared to say it but this was the first time your cunt got embarrassingly wet, not that Neuvillette was inadequate in bed per se but you were wetter than usual, and you were confident that he had also noticed.

The glow of his lilac eyes and cerulean feelers were proof enough.

Standing up to his feet, Neuvillette languidly stroked the cock that sat beneath the other one, an immodest gaze raking over your sopping cunt, and how it shamelessly dripped with sticky arousal enough to soil the ivory sheets beneath.

“Are you ready, ma chérie?” Neuvillette’s lilac stare captured you in a haze, absentmindedly nodding at his words as though you were rendered speechless.

He slowly rubbed the tip of his bottom cock before pushing it past your soaked folds, it eagerly swallowed him in—a loud, shameless squelch filling your ears as he stretched you open further. Your toes curled at the sensation, hips immediately bucking into him as you moaned his name. The stretch was a pleasurable burn, one that had you rolling your eyes back, and digging your nails onto the sheets a little harder. Neuvillette was able to easily slip into you, courtesy of the plentiful slick that coated your velvety walls.

Neuvillette stilled as he bottomed out, quick, short pants falling from his rosy lips. God, you always took him so, so well, he could never get enough of the feeling of warmth wrapped around his cock. You took this time to get used to the stretch, your muscles relaxing to lessen the resistance he felt. Neuvillette filled you up so well you could almost feel him in your stomach—a thought that had you clenching around him.

One, two, three seconds later, Neuvillette slowly pulled back, letting out a shaky breath at the pleasurable sensation. And with only his cock head inside you, he took no time to slam all the way inside. You moaned, hands flying to his bare shoulders, immediately marking his pale skin with crimson stripes. Neuvillette unabashedly keened at the clench of your cunt around him, knees buckling as you gripped his cock like a vice, making it harder for him to move in and out.

“Haah! Mhm! Neuvi—right there, my love!” Colourful moans and whimpers urged Neuvillette on, dragging him further and further to the state of insanity. “You feel divine, ma belle . .” The words came out as a choked sob—pathetic and dainty. Beads of sweat rolled down his forehead paired with a deep crimson blush that painted his cheeks, if anything, Neuvillette looked absolutely ethereal in this state despite how out of it the aphrodisiacs made him.

Not only were his cocks extra sensitive to touch but he could also perfectly smell the scent of your sex that lingered in the air. That sweet, sinful aroma he knew oh so well.

It made his head spin.

He tried holding back, he really did but your dulcet moans stroked his growing ego, and the feel of your sopping cunt deliciously sliding against him, the last thread of sanity that held him snapped.

Violently.

As if he saw nothing but bright hues of ruby, Neuvillette picked up his pace, long thrusts quickly turning into short ones as he mercilessly pistoned his hips over and over again, allowing his cock head to reach your sweet spot. Your fingers raked down the length of his spine—leaving violent ribbons of red in its wake—stopping right at the dimples of his back, leaving crescent-shaped marks as you dug onto the pale skin there. Neuvillette wasn’t the only one on the brink of insanity with how the underside of his other cock furiously rubbed at your swollen clit with each thrust, it rested at the hood of your cunt, thick and heavy.

“S-so good! It feels so good—ngh!” The thrust of his hips felt amazing, too amazing to the point where your body started to reject them. Your body entered fight or flight mode, parted knees instinctively closing together which only allowed an inconvenient amount of room for Neuvillette to move with.

Upon noticing the change, he slowed down, sweaty palms resting on either knee, “My love—haah . . Open up for me, would you?” Winded and weak, Neuvillette attempted to pry your knees apart to no avail considering his mushy state.

“Too much, mon chérie . . I—I can’t.” Neuvillette shook his head at your words before pulling out, leaving you confused and empty. From the mattress, you watched as he sauntered over to his side of the bed, grabbing a lengthy, obsidian object that rested against his nightstand. Before a question could even formulate in your mind, he returned to his spot in the blink of an eye; though, this time, with something in his hand.

A cane—his cane. The same one he used during court proceedings, in that context, it was deemed a sacred symbolism of his authority as the Iudex of Fontaine.

To use it in such a setting would be borderline blasphemy.

Hovering over your trembling body, Neuvillette placed chaste kisses on each knee, “Do you trust me, my dear?” Was that even a question? Of course you did. He wouldn’t harm you and you believed that completely.

With a soft touch, Neuvillette was able to easily pry your knees apart, the scent of your cunt once again filling his senses. He wordlessly slotted the obsidian cane beneath your knees, its surface cool against your feverish skin, you shuddered at the contrast in temperature. Neuvillette pushed down on the shaft of the cane, bringing your knees closer to your chest—you also noticed how it kept your legs still, meaning you had no option to close them.

You whimpered at the slight burn the position invited, especially with the cane pressing down on your soft skin. And once again, Neuvillette sheathed his cock inside your cunt before setting the same merciless pace. Only this time, you wouldn’t be able to deny him.

“Neuvi! Neuvi! Neuvi—aah! Fuck—mhm!” You held on to the ivory sheets above your head for your dear life as Neuvillette roughly pistoned his hips. With each relentless thrust given, your body jolted further up the mattress, breasts bouncing in full display for your lover to drink in. Oh, how he adored the way your naked body moved and reacted to him, so plush and pliant.

Sharp hisses from the bed frame interlaced with the pornographic sounds of your moans, creating a lewd melody for the moon to witness, a sinful song only for the darkness of the night to hear—full of heat and passion.

“Does—ngh! Does it feel good, my love? Will you give in to the—haah! To the pleasure I’m giving you?” Neuvillette curled over himself, tresses of ivory cascading down to cage your face as he leaned closer to you. Despite the blur of your vision, you noticed the faint azure scales that decorated the side of his neck along with his pupils becoming more animalistic.

Neuvillette’s draconic features only ever made itself known during his heat; so, this came as a genuine surprise to you. Not that you were really complaining.

His hand remained on his cane while the other found comfort on your hip, subtly guiding your body onto him to meet each thrust. Neuvillette met your gaze through a glossy stare, you watched as beads of crystalline-like tears formed on the corners of his eyes, eventually rolling down his reddened cheeks. The sight before you was beyond divine, it wasn’t every day one would see the Chief Justice in such a poor state, his usual expressionless face painted with a colourful expression.

One that unmistakably screamed how lost he was in pleasure: rosy lips parted to let out soft whimpers, brows tightly knitted together, creating a deep crease between his brows.

“Are you close ma chérie? Mhm—aah! Come with me?” Neuvillette breathed out. It took all of his will power to hold himself up, and keep his hips moving due to immense pleasure weighing on his body like a great burden. The feeling had him trembling to his very bones, like a yellow autumn leaf braving the evening winds, and no matter how much his brain screamed at him to stop, he didn’t.

The pleasure would be too great of a loss if Neuvillette stopped now; so, he kept going—pounding, rutting, and grinding into you as he chased both your impending orgasms.

You nodded vigorously, throat too dry from all that panting to choke out any coherent words. The burn of the position you maintained mixed with Neuvillette’s cocks stimulating your cunt sent you into a painful yet pleasurable overdrive.

Without a second thought, you hastily placed your hands between your bodies, blindly seeking out Neuvillette’s other cock, and wrapping your fingers around it. To the best of your ability, you vigorously pumped his shaft, matching your strokes with his thrusts.

Neuvillette shuddered, releasing a loud moan into the damp air. After a few more quick thrusts, he stilled deep inside you, sealing his lips with yours as you both reached your climax, eagerly swallowing one another’s lewd moans. Your back arched off the mattress, toes curling, and fingers digging into Neuvillette’s skin as you violently came, the feel of his thick, hot cum painting your plush walls white had your hips bucking into him, begging for more.

Embarrassingly enough, Neuvillette came a lot. Not only inside you—to the point where it spilled out of your cunt and onto the sheets below—but also on you. The cock you’ve been stroking spurted thick ribbons of cum on your abdomen, abundantly covering your skin in his essence. He looked at the filthy art that decorated your skin, colourful curses enough to make Fontainians gasp in shock filled his mind.

How beautiful you were marked by him.

“Did I hurt you in any way?” He asked, slowly peeling himself away from you. Neuvillette made sure to quickly remove his cane from under your knees, placing it flat on the floor before tending to you. He kissed your sweaty forehead, and pulled your bodies up the mattress with your head atop the fluffy pillows.

“Not at all but I have to say, I was reaaally looking forward to completing the challenge, mon chérie.” You joked, letting out a breathless laugh.

Neuvillette blushed, suddenly remembering how he readily accepted the proposal of your challenge . . What was it again? No Nut November?

“Another year is to be expected, I am determined we will overcome the challenge.” And you were looking forward to that. Very much so. You just hoped he wouldn’t consume another aphrodisiac-laced sweet in the coming year so the both of you could actually complete the challenge.

Well, at least you concluded that Neuvillette and aphrodisiacs weren’t such a bad match, right?

Looks like you had a certain head nurse to thank. —

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milkbobatyun · 2 months ago

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des fleurs pour vous — some flowers for you

pairing: neuvillette x reader

genre: fluff

summary: with a little bit of help, maybe neuvillette can win your heart

word count: 812

a/n: first post of the new year! hope everything goes well for everyone this year :D just an fyi that i might be posting less this year cus i'm in my final year of school ( ˶°ㅁ°) !! (it's gone by so fast oml) and i need to prepare for the exams ദ്ദി ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ )

neuvillette who doesn’t understand why he feels so nervous when he sees you. to this ancient dragon of old, he cannot fathom the reason why his mouth dries up and his palms become sweaty. every time he catches sight of you, the corners of his mouth twitch up involuntarily. butterflies brew a storm in his stomach as his heart dances erratically in his chest.

neuvillette who confides in the melusines about the foreign illness that has befallen him. in front of neuvillette, the melusines assure him, promising to do their best to cure him of this sickness that leaves his face burning and his ears flushed with red.

the moment his intimidating figure leaves the room, the melusines are huddling with their heads close together, whispering and brainstorming ideas.

“monseiur neuvillette has fallen in love!” menthe gasps dramatically, her tiny paws covering. the other melusines fawn over the notion, covering their mouths with their little paws, swooning over the fantasies their imagination has created. they’re overjoyed that the impartial iudex has found his other half, but without their help, this romance was heading nowhere.

after countless brainstorms and head whacks later, the melusines have a fool-proof plan. operation fleurs, they called it.

neuvillette who begins to think that he is losing his mind or getting too old for the job when he finds leaflets of local florist shops hidden between the legal files. when he’s pulling out books to consult, torn pages of various romance novels fall out, all citing love confessions, with one book on his desk even being swapped to “how to confess your love 101”.

neuvillette who after much coaxing from the melusines, decides to sit down at his desk, face impassive as he struggles to write a letter to convey his feelings. the melusines are ready to slam their heads on the table as they painfully watch the chief justice, who can hand down sanctions and orders without a moment of hesitation, is now terrified as he hopelessly stares at the blank pages, praying to the archons that he can express his feelings properly.

neuvillette who writes you such a formal letter stating that he wishes to meet you, that when you received it, you feared for the worst. as you stand beside the fontaine of lucine, anxiety gnaws at your stomach. did you do something wrong? were you about to lose your lawyer license? such thoughts chased each other in your mind, a silent mantra of your worst nightmares.

neuvillette who is so nervous about talking to you that he’s secretly mapping out 476 different escape routes and praying to the hydro archon that maybe today, at this exact moment, furina needs him for an urgent meeting.

your stomach drops when you see what could be described as neuvillette marching towards you, face set and stern, his arms held behind his back. somewhere in the back of your mind, your humour tries to throw light on the moment, silently commenting on how he looks like an old man eith his stance.

neuvillette, whose throat has dried up in fear and from the nerves that he has to awkwardly cough, but you’re so wound up by what is going on and end up jumping to conclusions, so you immediately begin bowing profusely and muttering apologies for some phantom mistake that you made.

neuvillette who gets so flustered he doesn't know what to respond and is reassuring you that you’re not in trouble. the melusines, who are very well hidden behind some bushes, are about to resort violence after hearing the both of you apologise to each other for the 500th time that day.

the melusines end up so frustrated with neuvillette’s lack of courage that they pop out from behind the bush and expose him to the whole of fontaine (there was only two other people there at the time)

a loud shout pierces through the tranquil barble of the fountain.

“OH MY ARCHONS, HES SO STUPIDLY IN LOVE WITH YOU HE DOESN'T EVEN KNOW HOW TO FUNCTION WHEN HE SEES YOU!”

the outburst from the usually softly spoken and quiet melusines leaves the two of you in stunned silence. your face is one of confusion as you point to yourself, as though trying to confirm what your ears heard.

when you look from the melusines to neuvillette to double check, scarlet red has coated his ears, warmth exploding over his face. hiding his face behind in embarrassment, neuvillette clears his throat before unveiling the bouquet of flowers he had hidden behind his back.

“well, it seems we started off with the wrong impressions, i sincerely wish that you forgive me for this. human emotion is…so difficult to grasp, but i believe this human tradition of giving flowers is meant to express… love? thus, i do hope that you may present me with the chance to court you?”

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∧,,,∧ ( ̳• · • ̳) © curated with love by milkbobatyun 2025 / づ ♡

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette #genshin neuvillette #neuvilette genshin #neuvillete x reader #neuvillete smut #neuvillette x you #x reader #genshin x you

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dr-spencer-reids-queen · 5 months ago

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Not-So Secretive Rendezvous

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2k

Warnings: smut, fem!receiving, age gap

Request by anon: I'd love a Spencer X Fem Reader thing, say season 3-4 prince charming hair version ya know? That era is totally hot. Anyway, reader is Hotch's sister or Daughter, 10 year age gap between reader & Spence. I'm a total sucker for a forbidden, sneaking, secretive thing with them getting caught in a very compromising position. Hotch is fine with it but disappointed they didn't clear it with him. Maybe she works in the BAU but maybe not? Some hot spice with his awkward self. I always have a thought of him being so awkward around women in social situations like with JJ in the baseball game stuff, but with his Eidetic memory he definitely knows how to please women for sure. Any other details i'll leave you with free rein!

Summary: You and Spencer are a new couple that is hiding your relationship from the team for two reasons. Hotch is your dad and Spencer is ten years older than you are. That doesn’t stop you from being with him. Not your dad and certainly not an office full of people.

Square Filled: public sex/voyeurism (2021) for @cm-kinkbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

There are two reasons why you’re at the BAU--Spencer and Hotch. This is the place you want to work when you have the proper training and have done everything that’s required of you. You graduated high school before summer started and now you’re taking college classes with a degree in criminal justice while also getting in some hours at the police academy. It doesn’t hurt that your dad is the unit chief of the BAU, but you try not to let that affect how well you’re doing in and out of school.

The other reason is Spencer Reid. You two immediately hit it off when you first met and he’s been showing you around as much as he can without getting in trouble. He can’t tell you much about the cases the team has but he can give you advice and pointers for when you get a job here. Derek helps you with the physical stuff while Spencer is your own personal library book that just so happens to have all the answers you’re searching for.

After a few months of visiting your dad and the team, you and Spencer developed a relationship that only you two know about. Keeping your relationships a secret isn’t something you normally do because if you like someone, you’re all about showing them off to everyone. However, you and Spencer are ten years apart in age, and you don’t think your dad will appreciate his eighteen-year-old daughter hooking up with his twenty-eight-year-old subordinate.

It’s not a big deal to you and Spencer since you’re not newly eighteen. It’s September and you turned eighteen back in January. He’s been so good to you and is such a gentleman. He’s a romantic and loves taking you out on dates as much as he can. Your favorite date is when he puts a tent on the roof of his building, makes everything for a picnic, and you two spend the night stargazing there.

Unlike now when your visit is anything but romantic.

It’s been over a week since you’ve seen Spencer and you’re craving his touch. You’re not normally a sex-crazed teenager but you’re ovulating and you really need to feel his body on yours. You’re not ready for kids and you don’t know if or when you will be, so you’ll be using condoms because it’s a terrible time to get pregnant.

Not to mention your dad will quite literally kill Spencer.

“Hey, Y/N, what are you doing here?” Derek asks when he sees you.

“Just wanted to stop by to say hi. I hear the B Team is out right now so what better time to come?”

“Your dad is in his office.”

“Where’s Spencer.”

“Bathroom.”

“Okay, I’ll wait for him. Thanks.”

You turn to leave but Derek stops you.

“Hey, we’re still on for tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah, I’m ready to learn that new self-defense technique.”

You walk straight for Spencer’s desk only to walk right past it and toward the bathrooms. Derek smirks and shakes his head knowing you’re not here to see your dad at all. Spencer comes out of the bathroom with his phone in his hand so he doesn’t see you right away. You open the door to an empty office and wait for him to pass by it before grabbing his arm and pulling him inside.

“Wha--?” He looks up and smiles when he sees it’s you. “Hey, baby. I didn’t know you were coming today.” You close and lock the door before shutting the blinds so that no one can look inside. “What are you doing?”

“Come here.”

You pull Spencer in and kiss him without warning, and he grips your hips not too hard. He gets lost in the kiss before the alarm bells ring in his head.

“Wait, wait, wait.” Spencer pulls away from you but you’re not done kissing him. You back up into the desk and sit on it while kissing down his neck. “Not that I’m not happy to see you but we can’t do this here.”

“Why not? Don’t you want me?”

“Of course I do.”

“Then get me naked and fuck me.” It’s hard to think when all Spencer is thinking about is getting you naked. He’s not a sex machine who wants it all the time but it has been a week since he’s seen you, and the last case he went on was very stressful. “School has been stressing me out and I really just want some dirty sex with you.”

You don’t have to tell him twice. He spreads your legs and steps in between them before kissing you again. He runs his hands down your thighs and back up, only to slip them underneath your dress. You wanted to make sure you gave Spencer easy access. He expected to feel a barrier between his fingers and your pussy but there is none.

“You’re not wearing any panties?”

“I came here for one thing and one thing only,” you grin. “I wanted to make this easier for you.”

Spencer rolls his head back and cracks his neck before sinking to his knees. He’s not an expert in this department but he’s read enough books and watched enough amateur porn to know what he’s doing. He places a hand on your chest, pushes you down onto the desk, and bunches your dress around your waist.

“Remember, we’re at work and your dad’s office is right down the hall. You gotta be quiet.”

You’re about to respond when Spencer latches onto your clit. You slap a hand over your mouth to muffle the moan that slips out. It would be a disaster if your dad found out about this… or anyone. He kitten licks your clit and circles it before sliding his tongue down to your slit. He straightens his tongue and pushes inside of you, and his right-hand hooks up and over your leg so that he can rub your clit in hard fast circles.

“Fuck, Spencer, right there,” you gasp quietly.

“God, you taste so good,” he mumbles. “I can’t ever get enough.”

You reach down and slide your fingers into his hair before tugging on it gently. This is the exact reason why he’s been growing his hair out. He loves it when you tug on his hair. His mouth and fingers switch positions so that he’s sucking on your clit and sliding a finger into your tight hole. You squeal a bit loudly at the sudden change in pressure, and you bite down on your lower lip to prevent yourself from crying out again.

“Please, Spencer, I need more,” you moan.

He slides in another finger and curls them both so that he’s touching the spot that makes you see stars.

“Are you close?”

“Yes, fuck, yes.”

“Do you want to come?”

“Yes, please, Spencer,” you moan.

“Go ahead, darling.”

He gives a particularly hard suck on your clit that makes you come all over his face. He removes his fingers and laps up every drop you give him before standing to his full height.

“God, you’re so good at that.” You pull him down and kiss him, not minding that you can taste yourself on his lips. “I need to come again. I have a condom in the pocket of my dress.”

“You’re so needy,” he grins but doesn’t refuse you.

He pulls away and takes the condom you give him before unbuckling his pants. He’s always awkward at this part because he still can’t believe that he has someone who is interested in him like this. He’s not ripped like Derek or as confident as him but you like him because he’s none of those things. You love how socially awkward he is. You love his ramblings. You especially love it when he tells you random facts that have you questioning how he came to know that in the first place.

Spencer pulls his cock out and you almost salivate at the sight of it. You’ve given him blow jobs before but there will never be a time when you don’t want to suck him off. However this time, you just need him to be in you. He takes out the condom from the package and carefully rolls it onto his hard cock.

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Yes, Spencer, please. Just get in me.”

You spread your legs wider and allow him to step closer to you. He pumps himself twice before lining himself up at your entrance. You toss your head back and gasp at the one… three… seven inches of him until he is fully seated inside of you.

“Let me know when you’re ready,” Spencer groans.

“I’m ready. Please, Spencer,” you beg.

He doesn’t want to be too loud so he doesn’t fuck you as hard as he wants to. He starts at a normal pace before slowly picking up speed, and you’re trying to stop the moans from coming out but failing. He covers your mouth with his hand as if that will stop you from moaning his name.

It’s been a long and stressful time for you both so it doesn’t take long for the two of you to get close to the edge.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come.” Hearing Spencer swear when he normally doesn’t is so hot. He hates swearing since he has such a big range of vocabulary that he can use, but he can’t help it when you feel like Heaven. “Are you close?” You nod wordlessly since Spencer’s hand is still over your mouth. “Come with me. One.” Thrust. “Two.” Thrust. “Three.”

You explode all over him just as he fills the condom up. He rides out both your highs as much as he can before slowing down. He removes his hand and you gasp when you feel him start to pull out of you.

“I don’t know how you haven’t had more girlfriends before,” you laugh as you pant.

“It’s usually my incessant need to ramble that drives them away.”

He takes the condom off and ties it at the end before pocketing it., He doesn’t want anyone to find it in the trashcan so he’ll throw it out in the dumpster outside.

“Have you seen Y/N? I saw her come in earlier.”

You freeze when you hear your dad’s voice outside the office.

“I think she went to see Garcia. You should ask her,” Rossi responds from right by the door. You hear your dad walk away before Rossi knocks twice on the door. “You two aren’t very quiet or sneaky.”

“Shit, I should go,” you giggle. You fix your dress and Spencer tucks himself back into his pants. The room smells like sex but you’re sure it will air out by the time anyone else comes in here. “I love you and I can’t wait to see you on Sunday.”

You lean in and kiss Spencer before unlocking the door.

“I love you, too,” Spencer grins. “We should do this again sometime.”

“Oh, we definitely are.” You open the door and notice Rossi is in the break room. You make sure the coast is clear before leaving the office. You turn the corner and go crashing into your dad. “Daddy, hi. I was just looking for you. Someone said you wanted to see me?”

Hotch looks up and sees Spencer leave the office from which you just came out. He didn’t bother fixing his hair as much as he should have so it’s a big messed up from how much you were tugging on it, and your lipstick is a bit smudged from Spencer’s hand over your mouth.

Hotch isn’t an idiot.

“My office. Now.”

You look up to see him looking at someone behind you. You look back and see Spencer staring at Hotch with wide, fearful eyes.

“Daddy, listen--”

“Don’t you have a class to go study for? Reid, now.”

“Yes, sir,” he nods and scurries past you to get to his office.

“Daddy, I love him. Please don’t kill him. I’ll talk to you later.”

You leave before your dad can say anything else. Hotch isn’t mad that Spencer is seeing his daughter. He’s upset that you two hid it from him. He’s not gonna kill Spencer but it is sure going to be fun to watch him squirm because he thinks he is.

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livelaughlovesubs · 5 months ago

Text

~ 04.10 - Neuvillette ~

Dom!reader x sub!Neuvillette - reader is gender neutral

Warning: boss (neuvi) /assistant (us) relationship, neuvi & reader are both virgins~, vent fingering, bathtub, heat (implied), dragon anatomy, rubbing his dicks together, mind break, sub space, breaking into his house (lol)

~ Word count: 6.8k ~

Nini!rant: special thanks to @sh1-n0bu for explaining her reptile kink to me <3

Kinktober list 2024

It was sunny on that day, no clouds were in sight, only the clear blue sky could be seen. The bustling sounds of the people are echoing from every corner, whispers akin to the buzzing of bees reached your ears. “Did you hear…” one of the shopkeepers murmured, “our archon, she…” another person commented. As always, people seemed to love gossip or rumors.

You couldn’t blame them, their curiosity was justified. Normally you would have wanted to eavesdrop a little more, but not this time, because you had other things to worry about. Today you were going to get a different position at work, all you hoped for was that it wouldn’t be worse than the previous one. You took the elevator upstairs, then made your way to your workplace, where you’ll have to deal with nasty higher-ups again.

If it were for you, you’d fire them all, every single one of them couldn’t do anything yet bosses their subordinates around like they are worth less than dirt. Not to mention all those unreasonable rules, who in their right mind would remember them all? After a short walk, you reached the Palais Mermonia. Hectic footsteps emerged from the building, the source was without fail beneath that unnecessarily huge door. With a final sigh, you opened that door and went inside.

First things first, since they told you that you were going to go to a new department, you had to wait in front of the office of your boss until he assigned you a new role. He was the chief justice of fontain and thus had his own room. It was the last chamber on the right. When it was finally your turn, you heard someone else opening the heavy entrance and walking in. No, not just one, many people, a big group of them, alongside photographers snapping pictures.

That wasn’t your business, so you ignored it and went on with your own life. You put on a fake smile as you greeted that old, insufferable boss of yours, “Good morning Monsieur, what can I do for you?” Your soft and calm tone, honed to perfection, was as flawless as ever. Not a single soul could guess your true feelings beneath that facade. Slowly you got closer to his desk, and he finally notices you.

“You are here, y/n.” He noted, without returning your greeting. “You know you are getting a new job, an important one at that. Don’t fail me.” That man said as he stared right into your eyes, a poor try to intimidate you. “Yes, I understand. May I know the nature of my work?” Despite his impoliteness, you replied in a professional manner. In truth you were sick and tired of this, why did they always have to beat around the bush? It was such a waste of time.

If in the end you have to work overtime because this superior of yours won’t stop yapping, you were really going to throw hands.

“You will see soon.” He said and pointed toward the couch on the left side of the room. You sat down on it soon after, not questioning all this strange behavior. How you hated this, but regrettably the pay was too good. After a short while, the door opened, and the crowd's screams seeped into the room. It got muffled again when the door got closed, the only sounds remaining were the footsteps of two individuals.

You didn’t think much about it and stayed seated, your boss on the other hand got up immediately and welcomed the two guests with open arms. He put on a cheerful air as he said, “Welcome! Thank you for taking the time to visit this humble place, our dearest hydro archon! You as well… errr.. Monsieur!”

Wait what?

Did you hear that right? The hydro archon, focalor? What is she doing here! How could it be that someone like you would be granted the chance to meet her in such a close and intimate setting? This has to be a joke, this has to be- “no need to thank us, please, I have to be the modest one in this situation.” She spoke, her voice was soft like silk, she’d be a great singer. “No way, I’d never dare to disrespect our archon like that. Y/n, you come here too and greet our archon!”

You heard that man call out to you, so you hurried over. There she was, a lady with beautiful long silver-white hair who owned a strong aura. This was no joke, she was the real deal. “Please excuse this citizen, I humbly greet the hydro archon.” You bowed, trying your utmost to be the best version of yourself. From the corners of your eyes, you saw a tall male standing behind the archon. He also looked important, as well as strong.

The way he stood there was confident and serious, something about him told you he wasn’t human. That feeling was supported by his appearance. Putting aside the fact that he was astonishingly beautiful, his hair was also long and white, and some blue strands could be seen on top of his head. Also, he was definitely filthy rich, his clothes were the top quality and looked like the meticulous work of a private designer. Just what did you put yourself into?

Focalor smiled gently, a parent-like smile as she spoke, “It’s alright, I should thank you for taking care of my friend here. Please do your best.” Now you were genuinely confused, this was beyond your comprehension. Was it something only high-ranking people understand? Was it a quiz? You don’t remember helping someone whose Titel was the friend of an archon.

Before you got the time to ponder over her words, she already explained it, saying, “From today onwards, my friend here will take over the job of chief justice. That means you’ll work under his command. But you see, he isn’t good with people, so I’d like to ask you to take care of him.” If this man here will become the new judge, then… you turned over to your now ex-superior, staring at him blankly. “I’ll retire soon, work hard y/n.” He said while smiling irritatingly, before patting you on the shoulder, as if he’s proud of you or something.

How you despised him. Did this really have to happen so spontaneously? Couldn’t they have given you a goddamn warning? A heads-up? You couldn’t get angry though, not in the presence of your deity. “I.. ehm, I accept this job with great gratitude.” You eventually uttered, not knowing what to do in such a situation. Well, you didn’t have a choice, did you?

“Good, how fabulous, then may I request for you to leave the room first?” The archon said as she turned over to look at your ex-boss, and he rushed out of the room just like how he rushed to them the moment he heard their footsteps. Somehow you wished he stayed because it was really suffocating standing there on your own. “I only have one more thing to discuss with you.” Focalor stated, before continuing with, “Can I ask you for a favor?”

You nodded in agreement, replying with a yes. “Could you teach him how to behave like a human? As you probably noticed, he isn’t of the same race as you, but I’d like for him to live among humans freely.” She smiled widely again, bringing forth a sense of comfort. Despite that, you were still hesitant and on edge. The words she voiced out; not human, teaching… it sounds like you’ll have a lot of extra work in the future. Also, how do you teach someone how to be human? Isn't it more of an instinct kind of thing, do you just tell him to have common sense?

“Great! It put me at ease to see my friend here got such a caring assistant, please take care of him in my stead.” Your archon smiled brightly, waving the other person goodbye as she left. Now this is awkward. You were standing face to face with your new superior, someone who was way more important than your previous boss. How great, this is only increasing the pressure at work. With a final sigh, you swallowed the nervousness down and began introducing yourself, “Nice to meet you, I’m y/n, and from today onwards I am your assistant, feel free to ask me anything.”

This should suffice, right? You had to adapt to your new position very quickly, to not seem unreliable, all you hoped for was that he wouldn’t be worse than the last one. “My name is Neuvillette, I’ll be in your care then.” He said while looking at you with his pretty eyes. His eye makeup was very beautiful, or were these markings?

Nonetheless, he was quite the eye candy compared to your ex-boss. Suddenly another concern popped up in your mind, what if he’s a player, or super arrogant? You quickly threw away these thoughts, it would be unfair to judge someone based on their appearance alone. Even though you still hesitated, you forced out a bright smile as always and uttered, “I’ll show you what kind of work you can expect.”

Contrary to what you feared, Neuvillette was very hard-working. He really wanted to do this job well, and he adapted to the position of chief justice very quickly as well. Less than a week later, he was ready to take on court cases and judge the convicts by himself. On the other hand, he didn’t understand humans and their emotions at all. It was difficult for him to learn their manners, especially the meaning of empathy.

He understood the basic concepts, like if someone lost something then they’d be sad. But why should their friend grieve with them as well, they didn't lose anything right? One of his problems was that he couldn’t read between the lines, so if someone didn’t tell him how they felt, he wouldn’t have the slightest clue.

You thought it was due to his rather emotionless nature since he never seemed happy or sad before. He always wore this serious and nonchalant expression, carrying out his duties with the utmost professionalism. He was the perfect judge who stayed clearheaded in every situation, and he was also a great superior. Just saying but, gosh, he finished his work so quickly it was amazing. Also one of the first things you taught him was how to be nice to one’s subordinates, and he’s been following your advice nicely.

Honestly? You enjoyed working under him. Your pay got raised, and you got to take care of a pretty boy. Sure, the hours increased by a bit, but it wasn’t as dramatic as you thought. Sometimes you’d even bring him lunch because you liked his attitude and wanted him to stay until you retire. It was also quite funny how dense he was, things that were normal for you were weird for him. Whenever you saw his perplexed face while studying humans, you couldn't help but chuckle under your breath.

One thing that you noticed after he came to fontain was how the weather worsened. Fontain wasn’t known for having long periods of bad weather, so it was strange how much it rained lately. Well, who knows, it probably doesn’t have a logical explanation behind it anyway. For now, you had to organize these court documents before handing them to 'monsieur' Neuvillette again, humming to yourself as you looked over them. Check.. and check, huh, looking good.

Now you had to find him, where could he be? He wasn’t at the Palais Mermonia, so perhaps he went on a walk? Or was he at his home? The next judgment was going to start in less than an hour, and the chief justice always had to arrive early, even if technically everyone would wait for him to start.

He mentioned to you before how he wished to do his work seriously, and that you had permission to do whatever to teach him if necessary. That’s why you were at his doorstep, knocking on the door while sweat formed on your forehead. You ran all the way here since you didn’t want his reputation to be tarnished by being late. The two of you would need to go to the opera house later as well, and that will take some time too. “Excuse me, Monsieur Neuvillette…?” You called out to him, no response. Weird.

Should you try and look through the windows? Or maybe he’s at the opera house already? That could be it, he has never been late after all. Before leaving completely, you tried to open the door just as a last resort, turning the doorknob. To your surprise, it opened, so the door wasn’t locked. “Huh..?” You gasped, feeling a little nervous now. Why was his door not locked, and should you really just walk inside? After pondering over it for a while you came to the conclusion, well, why not! If he was there, then you’ll quickly get him, and if not you’ll act like it never happened.

Since your reason was important as well, it should be all alright, right? With that being said, you carefully slandered through the halls of his house. His home was very modest, it didn’t reflect his position at all. With his authority, he could have gotten himself a mansion, but he settled for average? Nonetheless, you kept going, opening the doors carefully as if they were out of porcelain. Until you heard a noise. It was muffled through what seemed like a door, was Neuvillette still there or it was an intruder? Somehow you didn’t want to take another step anymore.

You eventually reached the root of the noise, and more sounds emerged from behind the door. It kind of gave you Deja vu, but you weren’t sure what exactly. After much consideration, you just simply opened that door, and warm air instantly hit your face. The room was so hot and full of condensed water, was it a bathroom or sauna?

You squeezed your eyes shut, then blindly entered the room, hands fluttering around to try and find something to hold on to. Then you touched something akin to porcelain, or was it acrylic? When you opened your eyes again, you stood right in front of Monsieur Neuvillette, who seemed to be sleeping in the bathtub. All naked.

It was an understatement to say you were stunned. You were so speechless that you didn’t move for a good minute. What should you do? He is sleeping and hasn’t noticed you yet, should you just wake him up? But this situation was kind of inappropriate. After all, you just intruded into his home and invaded his privacy. Time seemed to pass so slowly, yet you still haven’t come to a conclusion. In the end, you decided to stop being such a wimp and wake him up, then apologize to him a thousand times.

When you gradually got closer to him, you got a better look at his body. His skin was so perfect, smooth, and pale, like these models in magazines. Though he had scales located near his pelvis, which you thought was fascinating. So, when the hydro archon said ‘not human’, she meant a mermaid? There were no mermaid tails to see, perhaps he’s hiding them? Damn, how curious you were, even so, you decided to ask him later since you had other problems at hand. Gently, you nudged his body, hoping that would be enough to wake him up.

Nothing happened.

Then, you shook his shoulder, trying to be tender with him. Still nothing. You sighed, asking yourself what to do. A few moments later his eyelids twitched, and it shocked you to the core, you felt your soul leaving your body for a split second. Now that it has come to this, you were kind of embarrassed. Waiting patiently for him to notice your presence. “Uh.. y/n? What are you doing here?” Neuvillette asked, eyes still half-lidded as he slowly turned to look at you.

“I’m so sorry, Monsieur Neuvillette, but we have a court case in a few-” You stopped abruptly, noticing how his face was all red. “Are you alright, sir?!” In the blink of an eye, you reached out to his face and pressed your palm against his forehead, testing his temperature with your hand. He was burning, did he get a fever or was it because of the water? “This doesn’t look good.. should I postpone the court case?” You mumbled under your breath and pulled your hand back, not noticing the slight blush on his cheeks at your bold moves.

To your surprise, the male commented, “Your hand.. it’s cold, it feels nice.” It seems he really is sick, damn it, you should have taken better care of him. He probably got sick because he worked too much. “I’ll call a doctor, please wait a second.” You proposed, but he denied your idea. “It’s not a big deal, it’s probably because I've been bathing in hot water.” The boy said and stared up at you, his lashes were all wet just like his hair.

Despite the guilt gnawing at you, you had to admit he looked irresistible right now, and the fact that he was all naked was not helping. After more hesitation, your desire won against your reason, and your consciousness was killing you. Should you really do this? You kept asking yourself that question. The thing you were going to do, was it morally correct?

Before you found the answer to that question, you opened your mouth and said half-jokingly, "I understand. But, Monsieur Neuvillette, did you know? There is a very unique human custom that you haven't learned yet." His eyes widened a little, head tilted to the side as he mumbled, "Yes? And what is it?" You swallowed the guilt down your throat and responded, "Our current situation fits the requirements, so following that tradition.. uhm... we could do something… fun, if you want." Look at that unsure tone in your voice, were you trying to convince him or yourself?

Neuvillette looked at you in confusion, waiting for you to continue your story. Eventually, you did exactly that, whispering in a low voice, "It means I could, if you allow it… er, t-touch here..." Out of nowhere, your hand reached downwards, and the sound of water splashing around followed close behind. “Somewhere around here.” He could feel your fingertips brush over his pelvis, and a dark blush covered his face. "I-I see, is it... um, really a custom?" The male shyly looked away, he wasn't sure what to think about this, was it really a cultural thing?

At the same time, he was curious, he wanted to know how humans interacted and worked, so he had to experience it firsthand to understand them. "We don't have to if you don't want to try." You quickly told him, hoping that he was oblivious enough to believe that crazy story. Instead of agreeing, Neuvillette grabbed your wrist and brought it to his crotch. His cheeks were even redder than before as he admitted, "I— I want to try then... I want to learn more about humans."

You could swear you were getting dizzy as well, feeling your cheeks heat up at the sweet voice and erotic display of the male. The uncomfortable yet determined look on his face, and how his body was subconsciously begging you to touch him. Even so, he was your boss, should you really do something like this with him? Your hand kept lingering over his private area, itching to touch him but too worried to actually do it. “Hurry up..” he groaned, and any concerns you had dissipated. “Then.. please lay back and leave it to me.”

Gently, you told Neuvillette to let go of your wrist, and he stayed put all obediently. Seeing how easily he did as you said sent a shiver down your spine, and you started rubbing his belly, causing him to tremble slightly. Neuvillette closed his eyes and sealed his lips together. Your touches moved slowly but surely lower, until your delicate fingertips caressed the baby blue scales above his vent. His breath hitched in his throat, anticipation filling him as well as fear. From that moment onwards, he was yours. His heart beat like crazy, and all because of you, only for you.

On the other hand, you were amazed with his anatomy. The scales were hard and sturdy, but the more you rubbed those beautiful things, the more they softened. It only took a short moment before the male started panting quietly, eyes still pressed into a thin line as he refused to look at you, all due to his own embarrassment.

How cute, you thought. The way he was underneath you with his face flushed like some love-struck maiden encouraged you to go further. This was also how you found out his eyeliner wasn't makeup instead he was born that way. What a beautiful being he was, so breathtaking that he could be an angel sent from the heavens.

The water was clear like glass, you could see everything through it, from his vent to his milky thighs, all of it was laid bare for your eyes to feast on. At first, you wondered if he had a cunt since it looked like one but also not. It didn't bother you in the slightest though. Later on, when you got to the point where you caressed the scales right on his lips, you saw how two dicks slowly emerge from that slit. As if they grew inside him, to the point they were noticeable from the outside.

Right, if that wasn't astonishing enough, there were two? Hah, how incredible! He was really different from humans, and it only intrigued you even more. Neuvillette on the other hand looked so embarrassed, he was never this exposed to anyone, and he also never touched himself there. So you are the first to explore that area, to see this vulnerable, emotional side of his. His expressions were just so pretty~

The fact that he had two dicks was extraordinary, no doubt, but for now you were more invested in that vent of his. With little caresses that were akin to the soft crawls of a kitten without claws, you rubbed the edge of his cunt. "Uh- uhm..! Y/n, please be gen-gentle with me..." He pleaded in a weak voice, hands thrown over his mouth to hide his humiliating noises.

You nodded before caressing that part of him in earnest, and it was so soft, it was way softer than what you imagined. Honestly, you couldn’t even believe what the heck you were doing right now. Playing with him like this, the sheer audacity got you all nervous and lustful. This power struggle was really hot in your opinion. How did things even come to this point? He was only taking a bath, so how are you suddenly doing inappropriate things with him?

The only annoying thing was the water because it kept washing away his natural lubricants. God, you wanted to do so many things to him, to your boss nonetheless, you were so shameless. Then an idea crossed your mind, could you perhaps fit your finger inside that space? Why not try it out..? Gently, or as gently as you could since you had to squeeze a little, you managed to stick your middle finger inside him. It wasn’t even fully in him, yet he was already gasping and moaning.

Hands clenched around the edge of the bathtub, enough for his veins to become noticeable. His insides were so soft and squishy, and the way the edges clenched around your fingers as well as how his dicks twitched was just so erotic. The scales on either side were shining like peals, they had long become soft unlike before. You licked your bottom lip, feeling a sense of lust course through your body.

His pleasure-ridden expression brought you further down this hypnotizing feeling of want and need. “Wha-what is this..?” Neuvillette gasped, gazing at you with a look of confusion and embarrassment. Is this how it is supposed to feel? He did want you to touch him, but this was kind of shameful, yet he didn’t know why. It just felt inappropriate but amazing, he's not even sure if he should stop it or encourage you.

“Y/n… ah, I, mhmm!!” Right before he finished his sentence, you pushed your finger deeper into him, until your digit was buried in his vent to the knuckles. This was quite the fight, though it was worth it. His mouth hung wide open at this point and his entire being was shaking in ecstasy. After making sure he was doing alright, to some extent, you started moving your finger.

Of course, the poor and innocent Monsieur who had never had anyone touch him there yelped in surprise, he didn’t even know you could reach that deep inside! Oh but now he feels like he was being stretched to his limit, and filled to the brim. There was no way he could take any more than this, there was just no way. Your fingers felt so good, he was too ashamed to admit but he loved the feeling of clenching around them, that was all he knew.

He didn’t know the reason why it felt good, nor why he liked it, so he blamed it all on his instincts. "So this is why humans have this custom, it's because it feels so hot and, good..." Neuvillette uttered under his breath, drool was handing out from his lips already. Suddenly you curled them slightly, to press and poke at his soft walls. “Ah-…ah.?!” The dragon couldn’t help but mewl again, his thighs were trembling, causing the water inside the bathtub to splash around.

“This is so fun, isn't it, Monsieur Neuvillette~" You teased while pleasuring him with your finger. "Hu-huh..? uhh- I think so.. er, please address me in-informally in these settings..." He suddenly said, seemingly flustered at the fact that you were using his official title. His adorable words were so cute that you couldn't help yourself again, leading to you rubbing his spongy insides. “HnnGH!! Please… no mo-more..” the male then begged you so sweetly you thought you were going to overdose.

What a pitiful guy, tears were collecting in the corners of his eyes, threatening to spill at literally anything. Then it started to rain, the sound of soft raindrops hitting against the bathroom window served as nature's background music for you. “Aw, you want me to stop, Neuvillette?” His two dicks both twitched at the mere mention of his name, precum collecting around his aquamarine tip. Now that you mentioned it, his cocks were fading into blue from his base onwards.

On another note, Neuvi would have been all sticky with precum now if it wasn’t for the water neutralizing it. “I-I mean.. uhh, no, don’t stop haaah...” The male gently placed his hand on top of yours, trying to keep your touch from leaving his body. “I don’t plan on.” You admitted, then used your other hand to jerk off his dicks, taking both with one hand and rubbing them against each other.

“UgGhHH..!! Too much, too- mhm..!” He complained again, to which you responded with, “Aw, don’t be such a fuss, doesn’t it feel good?” There was no denying it because both of you knew he liked it a lot, his expressions revealed it all. “Nghh, i.. I mean-, uhMMm!” It almost annoyed him how his own moans kept interrupting his sentences. Seriously, it was difficult enough to talk and think about how to form coherent sentences, and then his humiliating whines just had to ruin it.

You were enjoying yourself. Oh, you definitely were. His beautiful silver hair was soaked in the water, shining as if stars descended just to decorate his locks. That handsome face of his was tainted with a bright pink, a huge contrast to his normally pale complexion. The tears which were on the verge of falling finally rolled down his cheeks, or was it just the water of the bathtub? Nonetheless, he looked pretty damn erotic in that moment, so beautiful you were dazed.

Neuvillette noticed you staring, which is why he avoided your gaze, feeling too ashamed to hold eye contact. Yes, he felt hot and was craving whatever you could give him, but this side of his was simply too pathetic and lewd! Gradually, the sound and intensity of the rain increased. It kept hitting the window, so you could hear how it got louder and louder, people also started to run under random roofs to keep themselves dry. After you were sure he got used to your finger, you tried to add another one.

“AhHhh! Mhm, no..! There is no-no space left...!” Once again he was trashing around, complaining, making water spill over, wetting you in the process. “Shh, it’s alright, you can do it Neuvillette, I’m sure you can.” You whispered some words of encouragement to him, praising him while you were at it. He heeded your words, trying hard to accommodate your second digit, because he wanted to do it for you. Eventually, he managed to fit both of them inside, even if it was a long journey, “Ah- ahh.. this is, mHffFhm.. your fingers feel to-too gooood♡♥︎?!”

The boy groaned and whimpered, sobbing behind a face of uncontrollable lust. Each of his moans were a blessing from the heavens for your ears, making your heart flutter as if you were going to enter paradise. He was such an angel after all, wasn’t he? That gorgeous white hair he got could be mistaken as a trait of an angel, not to mention his pure and virtuous personality, if he told you he was an envoy of god you would have believed him with no doubts.

“So stunning.” After thinking all of that, you couldn’t help but compliment him again, all while you stretched his vent with all the tenderness in the world. “NGhHh.. m- uhhmm, y/n, please, I want more..” Neuvillette begged you sweetly, eyes half-open as he embraced this perverted side of his. You were genuinely surprised by his words, you didn't expect to hear him plead for more, hence you stopped your movements for a split second. Damn it, you thought he was just an innocent little mermaid, but maybe there is more to it?

To be honest, you were really into all of this as well. Normally he was your superior whom you had to follow and obey like a loyal dog, but now he was like your cute and adorable little pet, begging for you to play with him. How unpredictable the world is, and you didn't mind it at all. Just looking at him was enough to make you happy, and now you got him wrapped around your finger like it. You were ecstatic!

While you were immersed in the perverted appearance of your boss, you subconsciously trusted your fingers in and out of him, ending with him crying out repeatedly and almost creating cracks in the acrylic due to his tight grip. “AaHHhh!! OOHHh..<3! Mhm, too muOochH, fa-fAasterrr.!♡♡♡~!!” At this point, you didn’t know what he was hoping and pleading for. His sentences have long been rid of any logic since he kept giving mixed signals. So all you did was coo at him and promise him that you’ll make him feel good.

His eyes rolled back to the back of his skull when you accidentally brushed over an especially sensitive spot deep inside him. Now he was truly blabbering nonsense, you could barely understand the meaning of his words. When you sneaked a peek at his face, you saw how he was basically melting. Like butter, slowly falling apart due to the heat. Your movements fastened again, repeatedly pushing your digits in and out of him at a quick pace.

You even caught yourself drooling because you were too concentrated on his expressions, how his features twisted into bliss. All due to you and your fingers. “Ahh.. nghHh, I- I can’t.. it’s so we-weird!” Neuvillette managed to groan out with much effort, his entire body was quivering as if electricity was coursing through him. “So-something is..! NghH, hMMn~ <3” Something? What did he mean by that? “Co-coming… it’s co-mHMm, coming out..♥︎～!!!” Ah, that’s what’s happening. Pff—

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his adorable antics, does he even know how cute he was? Carefully, you rubbed and pressed the tip of your fingers against that sweet spot inside him again, almost abusing that poor spot at this point with how much you were touching it. Each time you did that, he’d arch his back off from the bathtub, and his two bluish dicks would jump in excitement. Everything about him was just so cute! Sure, you were smitten with him from the moment you laid your eyes on him, but now you were sure you couldn’t turn back anymore.

How you wished you could devour him. He just looks so delicious, you could eat him out all day long if he allowed it. Not to mention the way his vent clenches around you and churns, it wouldn’t be an overstatement to say you were obsessed, addicted to him. The rest of his body was like a god’s creation as well, sculpted by the meticulous care of the lord.

Each muscle was defined but not overdone, his chest rising and sinking with each breath. His perky nipples also owned a beautiful shade of pink, standing up all proud as if inviting you to taste them. For a second there you were lost in your daydreams, totally hypnotized by the male in front of you. One of his moans managed to pull you out of it, reminding you of your current mission. “UgghHH! Oh-UHhh! Y/n, y/nnn♡♡♥︎!”Neuvillette gasped out for your name multiple times, hoping to reach you.

You’ve been squeezing and grazing his sensitive spots without providing him a break, who would be able to withstand all these currents of ecstasy while staying sane? Though, perhaps the poor hydro dragon wasn’t even in his right mind anymore. He couldn’t speak properly or think clearly, can you really call him sane at this point? No, he was a mess, a fool for your touch, an addict drowning in pleasure.

“Oh? My, I was distracted for a second, wasn't I? You are doing great, Neuvillette, keep going. Cum for me?” You praised him once you took in the situation, now pushing your fingers even deeper inside him, causing his heart to stand still for a second. It was as if his mind was breaking, his brain malfunctioning as hot tears rolled down his eyes and into the bathtub. The loud rain outside the house was picking up, becoming harder by the second.

“MhMNG..! Noo- hhGGNnNMm~ I- I’m aaAngGhh!!” High-pitched moans left his throat, they were more akin to screams of pure bliss than anything else. For a split moment, he could feel his consciousness fading away, blacking out before he returned to reality. Some kind of fluid squirted out of his dick, ending in more pleasure cascading through his veins. “GuHhh, Mhh-nghh...? Ahh, ahGnn y/n, y-y/n… ♡～" Neuvillette gagged and choked on his moans, crying hysterically while his cum kept gushing out of his swollen tip.

His legs shook violently, unable to fathom all these sensations and feelings. It was too much to handle! His orgasm washed over him in the most unexpected way possible, and he wasn’t ready for it. By no means he was, though he wouldn't have been ready until the next century. The consistency of his cum was thick and milky, it immediately sunk down to the bottom of the white bathtub. All his strength was gone as if they got robbed from him.

Neuvillette was limping at this point, his bottom a twitchy something where cum kept shooting out of his slit. You took a good look at him, his hair wet and sticking to his body, head thrown back as if he didn’t have enough strength to hold it up. Those cheeks, ears, and shoulders were all flushed pink, also his mouth was a little open due to his continuous groans. He was panting heavily, breathing still unstable. If you had to take a wild guess, he was probably still processing everything that happened as well as the emotions swirling inside him.

Slowly you took your fingers out, he only reacted minimally to the loss of contact. Eyelid twitching a little when the warmth of your digits subsided. You stared at him, at his fucked out and broken state. At that moment, you were sure he was the most attractive he had ever been. Ah. Suddenly you got reminded of the court case he was supposed to attend. Reality hits you like a door in your face. Wait, what time was it? Could you two still make it in time?

You looked at your pocket watch and.. damn it. 10 minutes until the case begins. There was no way you two would arrive on time, especially since you weren’t sure if he could even walk at this point. Then you noticed how he seems to be coming to his senses, so you gently brushed some strands of hair out of his fucked out face.

While doing that, you wore a worried expression across your features as you whispered, “Uh, first, I’m sorry for entering without permission. Your door was open so I was bold enough to enter, forgive me.” Neuvillette’s eyes widened, did he really make such a stupid mistake, for no reason? Well, he did feel a little hot today, maybe a bit out of it as well, but still. You then kept apologizing, saying, “Second, there is a course case in a few minutes, I’m so sorry for neglecting work.” Your tone was an apologetic one, feeling bad for ruining his great reputation.

To your surprise he didn’t seem bothered at all, instead, he looked away in shame. Probably at the thought of what he just did with you, his assistant. “Uh.. no, it’s fine.. I’m at fault too. I shouldn’t have… gotten you into this mess as well.” You instantly shook your head in opposition, “No no, it's on me. But may I ask, how are you feeling? Does anything feel sore?” His face heated up again and he blushed furiously, you were almost able to see smoke coming out of his head. “No I'm fine..” the male mumbled quietly, still avoiding your eyes.

Without wasting any more time, you proposed, “Then shall we hurry-” “No, it’s alright, y-y/n.” He interrupted you, his voice also stuttered and cracked up as he worded your name. God, he was adorable. “The reporter, who was supposed to be present at the trial, couldn’t make it. He got sick. I.. uh, I met his wife on my way to the opera, and she told me she was going to stop by your office to delay it to you.”

You blinked, once, then twice. So that’s why he wasn’t present. Right, your righteous and hard-working boss would never come too late, there must have been an outer influence. The reason why you didn’t know, was because you were working from home today so there was no way for the news to get delivered to you. What a misfortune, but, you got to do this and that with him, so in the end it was a good thing?

You could feel your own cheeks heat up now that everything was over, and the misunderstanding cleared up. “Err, then.. can I help you with anything else, Monsieur Neuvillette?!” Your voice came out accidentally too rough because you were panicking a little. Damn it.. dealing with the aftermath of your actions was kind of embarrassing. So you really.. did this and that.. haha. Damn your self-control, you even lied to him.

Luckily your kind chief didn’t take your rather loud voice as an insult, instead, he handled it gracefully and said, “It’s alright, I’m sorry that you had to see me in that state. Please wait in the living room while I get ready.” You nodded and left right after he finished his sentence, you figured he’d want a little privacy now that everything was over.

Without wasting much time, you left the bathroom. Slowly, the rain stopped, and everything calmed down again. The fog that was once surrounding everything has also disappeared now. After you left, Neuvillette sighed before slumping back into the water. Whatever just happened… argh, how embarrassing! Please never ever remind him of it, or he might go back to living with nature and Melusines again.

The dragon gazed out of the window, his heart pounding in his chest. He saw as well, how the rainy weather from before left, now replaced by the bright sun. Next time he should be more careful about closing doors and whatnot, even if he ends up enjoying this occasion. His cheeks flushed once again at the thought of you, and he hid under the water. How can he ever look you in the eyes again...?

Tags: @ghostiegirl56 @thisisnotangel @ghostgoosygoose @i-dont-fooken-know @chuuya-brainrot @allyfoxglove @thigh-o-saur @fallenthemisticalyingyang @fem-dom-roze

Nini!rant 2.0:

This is going to be a short one, just a quick explanation of the dragon anatomy. (What nobu explained to me)

So, it’s a vent right? Kinda like a vagina but without the clit and looking more like a hole. Then imagine two dicks coming out from the hole, both are curled towards the stomach and the one on top is a little shorter. The tip is rather pointy, with the form looking a little spiky as well? At the base, or the part that’s buried in the vent, it’s his skin colour, and towards the gland it fades into a clear blue, or even mystical purple. Around the veins it’d be slightly purple and it shines a little as if someone poured sparkles over it ✨

Instead of hair, he’d have scales, shiny blue ones (so pretty!!) that cover the entire area. It surrounds his vent and is quite sturdy when he isn’t erect, if you rub it long enough it will become softer. He can hide the two dicks inside his vent or take them out! And a fun fact or headcanon nobu told me was, dragons can only cum from one dick at a time, except they are reaaaally overstimulated.

This artist drew it basically how I imagine it - but they drew it without the vent

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iiotic · 7 months ago

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WHO FELL FIRST, WHO FELL HARDER?

including: neuvillette, lyney, cyno.

-> part two: wanderer, xiao, kazuha.

wc: 0.6k

₊˚ʚ - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

neuvillette; you fell first, he fell harder

you were always intrigued by the chief of justice himself, thinking that his aura is very powerful yet elegant. soon enough you were standing before him, in your trial for a dumb mistake that you made. you were declared innocent however you decided to try and talk to mounsier neuvillette in private. after many failed attempts you succeeded. soon enough you two were hanging around whenever the iudex had free time. unfortunately there was something you didn't expect, you surprised yourself when you caught feelings for him.

neuvillette was never good at understanding human emotions, nor was he good at expressing them. imagine his suprise after falling in love for the first time, not knowing what it was he asked sigewinne and some other melusines for help. what is this warm feeling inside of me? he'd ask himself in the mirror after a successful meeting with you. long time later he realized that the feeling was love, that he deeply cherished for you.

lyney; he fell first, he fell harder.

the great magician, lyney, hosted yet another magic show with his sister lynette as his assistant. as always he was a bit nervous before stepping onto the stage and charming everyone in the oratrice. what he didn't know was there was a certain someone sitting in the front row seat, especially excited to see the performance. you waited a long time to earn the money, book a front row seat and actually show up to see the magic show that everyone praised. soon enough the magician needed an assistant from the audience and oh my god! did the machine choose you? pure luck.

as you stepped onto the stage, sweating, quite nervous, lyney was mesmerised by your beauty and the sound of your voice. If you'd ask him everything about you was angelic. after a successful magic trick, you found an envelope, in your purse, after you sat down. a pass to the next magic show and an invitation from the great magician lyney himself. You found yourself waiting in the spot that was written in the invitation, soon enough he showed up. you two quickly bonded over small simmiliar things and you slowly started to catch feelings for him, but little did you know he already fell for you ten times harder.

cyno; you fell first, he fell harder

you found yourself in a very dangerous situation, fortunately for you the general mahamatra came to resque. you thanked him many times but he'd always shrug it off and say that its just his job. after that incident you accidentally bumped into eachother a few times too many. you called it fate and decided to shot your shot with him, inviting him for friendly dinner. to your suprise he agreed nevertheless you were glad. You knew that you caught feelings for the matra.

after many, many failed attempts of him not getting the hint. you slowly began to give up, thinking that cyno does not reciprocate your feelings, but you were so wrong! he'd never admit but he always appreciated the way you were patient with him, laughing at his terrible jokes and playing tcg with him. truly you were the only one who made an attempt at laughing at his jokes. he was down bad for you. fortunately everything turned out good, him confessing to you and you of course accepting.

#neuvillette x reader #lyney x reader #cyno x reader #genshin impact #neuvillette #cyno #neuvillette x you #neuvillette x y/n #lyney #lyney x y/n #lyney x you #cyno x you #cyno x y/n

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bitter-me · 1 year ago

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It's Punishment Time!!

Neuvillette | M. Reader

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"Now then, I've prepared a very special punishment~"

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They say you shouldn't break the law or else.

Even with that, some still do and ended up meeting their downfall. But what happened to those who committed a much more horrible sin? Surely imprisonment won't be enough.. an execution must be in order.

But this...

Isn't what they all imagine..

The executioner seems... A little to eager to do his job..

He smiles from ear to ear, sometimes he even laughs! No ounce of regret or sorrow in his expression as he does his job.

People began to call him a lunatic. A lunatic that enjoys killing each others. But is that really true? Is he truly a lunatic? Or was there more to him than meets the eye?

"Neuvi~"

The Chief Justice sighed at the voice he didn't expect to hear that day. A voice that doesn't have a single ounce of guilt. Such a carefree voice. A voice that doesn't suit the man who has it. "Don't call me that."

"Why not~?" The other ask childishly as his head peeked from behind the Judge's armchair, like a child "sneakily" watching their parents work. Neuvillette groans in respond, what did he do to deserve this? Why does he have to be stuck with this lunatic of a man? But as the lunatic once said to him "'What's a Judge without his Executioner?'"

[Name] giggles at Neuvillette's shift in mood. Oh how he loves it when the other is like this~ It brings such joy to his heart. "Come on, Neuvi~ relax why don't ya~" He says, putting his chin on the other's shoulder as he gave his signature Cheshire grin.

Neuvillette roll his shoulder to get [Name] off of him as he continues on with his paper work. [Name] huff in annoyance, fixing his stature he eyed the Judge's paperwork before crossing his arms and leaned his back against the back of Neuvillette's armchair as he looks at the window in front of him. The two stayed like that in silence. It's neither uncomfortable nor comfortable just pure and utter silence with only the sound of Neuvillette's pen writing on the paper.

As time passes, Neuvillette decided to initiate a conversation with the lunatic. "Are you truly a lunatic as they claim to be?" This caught [Name]'s attention. "Oh? and why is it suddenly a part of your concerns, Monsieur Neuvillette?"

Neuvillette could practically hear the smirk in [Name]'s voice but before he could reply [Name] spoke up. "Believe what you want to believe, Monsieur Neuvillette. I don't care what you all think of me."

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The whole room erupts in whispers and murmurs regarding the lunatic of an Executioner as he had just executed a man that had been declared guilty by the Chief Justice.

"What a madman."

"He's insane."

"Why isn't he the one to get executed?"

"How did he even become an executioner to begin with?"

Those words continues as those voices becomes louder and louder. Neuvillette taps his cane on the floor hard enough to the point the loud sound echoes throughout the whole room, silencing the courtroom. Every time an execution is about to begin. This always happens. The whole room will be filled with many whispers and murmurs of people wondering just how a man can be so unhinged and.. excited about executing someone.

This also.. drove Neuvillette to start questioning a few things.

No matter the day, the time.. that lunatic always have that Cheshire grin on his face, that insane, maniac look.

How does a human learn to know such madness and insanity?

#seme male reader #top male reader #x male reader #genhsin impact #genshin impact x male reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin #genshin neuvillette #neuvillette #neuvilette x reader #neuvillette x male reader #genshin x reader #genshin x male reader

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yanoverload · 3 months ago

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Yandere Serial Killer

Here everyone! Again sorry for the mess with changing the order of release, but it is what it is, anyway *punching yandere serial killer into a pulp cutely*

I love detective x serial killer, but I always wanted to see a defense lawyer x serial killer, you two have the same principle, but took different paths you know?

Also the hate from one and obsession from the other. Yummy.

Being a defense attorney was a herculean task sometimes.

Accusing people of anything is the easiest part, you thought, but to defend someone you just met a few weeks ago? Exhausting.

But you never got into law school to have an easy job. You made it so far, so you could bring justice to the crooked system.

Your father was accused of a crime he never committed, put on death row when you were still a babe. Never will your family forget the looks of disgust received. It's easy to frame a poor family. Imagine the anguish the rich guy, your dad's boss, the one that actually did the deed, must feel.

As if. He is probably snickering at how his attorney was worth every corrupted dime.

Never should anyone go through the tears your grandparents did when they had to say goodbye to their only son. Never again will your mom be ostracized for being a single mother, the wife of a criminal.

Defending the injusticed was your life goal, to bring the actual monsters to their own consequences was your pride and joy, and damn were you good at your job.

But things got a bit mixed when corpses started to show up.

Before the culprits you helped sentence could pay for their deeds, they would be found dead, put in a twisted artistic display by the freak that did it.

Exhausting.

Thank fuck you had strong alibis and a great reputation amongst the public, because if not, you figured you would be suspect number 0.

Whoever did it, was apparently playing vigilante with your own life. And you hated it.

But people talk. And they were starting to love it.

It's funny how public justice works sometimes. That was never your intent. It started as a form of revenge sure, but it was first and foremost to help the disgraced.

When your dad's old boss was found mushed beyond recognition is when your mind decided enough was enough.

You tell the people closest to you, your police colleagues, other lawyers you respect, the forensic doctors you spent nights with, that you plan to resign.

They tell you not to, that you should keep doing what you love. But you can't handle the guilt anymore.

Saying goodbye to the police chief after your conversation about the retirement, you find a letter at your doorstep. It smells like fancy perfume. You are certain it is only a family member of one of your clients, but how would they know where you live?

The letter was like those with cut magazine letters, and you feel a shiver down your spine. While you read, you feel like you're being watched.

"Why would you retire? I did for you silly. To see your work, you defend the innocent. You don't understand how we are one in the same.

How would you feel if an innocent was convicted and you did nothing, because you left the law? Because it CAN happen."

You feel your blood rising, and you crumpled the letter full of hate

This motherfucker. They are worse than hell on earth.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Some more facts about him! ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Heo Dae-ho (name is Dae-ho, surname is Heo) is a prodigy law student, he has everything, money, looks, and an influential family.

His mom is a heart surgeon, his dad a forensic doctor.

His parents are strict but loving. They would do anything for their baby boy.

At first they were worried that Dae-ho would be a bum, since even though at school he was captain of the swimming team, had multiple trophies in whatever you could imagine, he had no passion in his steps.

They knew their child was different. But what else could they do apart from loving him and raising him? They also had an image to maintain.

That was until he mentioned wanting to go to law school. Dad was happy, it wasn't medical school, but it was still a great choice.

Mom thanked the gods her son wouldn't touch those in need of medical care, but she would never say that.

His parents are Korean immigrants. He can speak English and Korean, a bit of French.

Never had any flings at college. He is saving himself for you.

Probably has a fanclub of people that love him at college, and one for his.... Other persona.

Has been in your trials before to "learn".

Height: 181 cm (5'11 feet)

#yandere oc #oc intro #yandere art #yandere x reader #sub character #male yandere #yandere x you #cw: violence #cw: death

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golddust-if · 1 year ago

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you're a wanted person. that isn't new to you, but after years of working, someone. no. something is after you.

you were taught by the best, your mother, she was an amazing woman but she was too trusting and in the end, that was her downfall. you won't make that mistake. you're a killer, but a righteous one. you kill those who deserve it, the disposable.

with your abnormal abilities, of which only twenty-five percent of the population is gifted with. you can succeed in what she was never able to do, rid the world of sinners.

you work for the slaughterhouse, a bar... with a dark side; in a rowdy part of the city. your mother was the owner but she didn't pass it down to you, she passed it your younger twin siblings. she believed you were far too talented to sit behind a desk, dealing with paperwork.

you've traveled all over the world, exterminating. you've claimed plenty of people, but perhaps this time you went after the wrong one. having no other choice you flee back home, but you aren't safe there either, you never are.

play with a customizable mc [gender (male or female), physical appearance, personality, sexuality]

protect those you care about or turn your back on them when they need you.

romance, befriend, or make enemies between any of the sixteen characters. four gender selectable, six male, and six female.

decide what supernatural ability you were gifted with; telepathy, telekinesis, or teleportation [figure out how to develop it and what other ability you have]

define your mc's signature weapon, fighting style and overall skillset; how you feel about killing, and the supernatural abilities you were gifted with.

this story is rated 18+ for sexual themes, substance (drug and alcohol) use, explicit language, and violence. [more themes might be added later]

the tattoo artist [male or female] [ro] wren price – partner in crime. they've been by your side since you can remember. always with a bright smile and cheeky remarks, you can't think about how your life would look without them. though they act differently with others, more serious, with a glint in their eyes you can't quite figure out. they never look at you like that.

the bodyguard [male] [ro] theodore price – the older brother of your best friend. there's no doubt in your mind that they're related. he's protective over you, although you can't hold that against him as that's what he does for a living. protect people. he's hard to get to know on a deeper level and you can't help but wonder what's going on in his mind.

the detective [female] [ro] rori hayes – now, if you weren't yourself, perhaps you could have been friends with her. but unfortunately for you... she's extremely suspicious of you and set to bring you to justice. she's recently been promoted and she cannot afford to fail, not when her family is counting on her.

the chief deputy sheriff [male] [ro] charles butler – good ole charlie, you're acquainted with each other. he can't say he isn't a little impressed with you. but you're endangering the citizens of his city and that includes his little girl. he may not have any evidence on you but you need to be brought down, and he's going to be the one that books you.

the model [male] [ro] julien ripley – son of the sheriff. he always looks uncomfortable with his own father. he’s never talked to you before and you’re almost positive he has no opinion on you. he’s a very well known face, although you can tell he doesn’t like being stared at and overall talking to anyone. *male mcs only

the journalist [female] [ro] sloane campbell – she's fast alright and always seems to know your moves. too bad she isn't on your side. always trying to announce to the world, where you are and what you're planning to do next. good thing she's overlooked at her job, consistently being handed stories that, even you know, aren't going anywhere.

the bartender [male or female] [ro] hale/hart vaughn – a family friend, and your sister's best friend. with their tantalizing words, they don't know the meaning of being serious. they are quite insufferable and you can't seem to be able to get rid of them. you have a feeling if you did, your own sister would come after you.

the florist [female] [ro] paris graham– at first glance she doesn't appear to be anything special, but that would be wrong. she's a firework waiting to explode and you want to be there when it happens. her work doesn't suit her but you have a feeling, that being a florist isn't all that she does. *female mcs only

the apartment owner [male] [ro] nolan adams – he knows about you and what you do, but he doesn’t give off the feeling of someone who’d go running to tell. you’ve always come back to lay low at his apartment complex when you need to and as long as you pay on time he doesn’t care what you do.

the actor [female] [ro] ophelia wylie – a face from your past, one you can’t say you particularly enjoy facing again. she seems remorseful for what she did to you, in fact she looks like a completely different person and she’s offering to help you, but for what in exchange… after all, no one gives anything for free.

the crime lord [male] [ro] louis foster – of course you’ve heard of lou, you’d be an idiot if you didn’t. he's tried and failed to recruit you and he never fails. you’ve been warned before, it would be a mistake to make an enemy out of a king.

the informant [male] [ro] vincent sutton – it’s rare to ever see him out, only ever seen accompanying lou. if you had the ability to feel fear, you’d fear him. he shows every sign of being against you, but then again, it seems as if he does that to everyone around him as well.

the chef [male or female] [ro] mateo/melanie olsen – you see them quite often, as their restaurant is one of your favorites. they always serve you with a smile and if they do know you, they play oblivious. they're just happy to have a customer who enjoys their food.

the doctor [female] [ro] eileen yates – serene and calming, a voice who always knows exactly what to say. she may look innocent but she’s far from it, you’ve known her for years yet you don’t truly know her, for all you know eileen may not even be her name.

the accountant [female] [ro] felix price – the youngest of the price siblings, she helps out with all the money coming into and out of the slaughterhouse. she’s always been compassionate and reasonable. you can't imagine her hurting a fly.

the rival bar owner [male or female] [ro] kinslee dean – they own a bar just a couple streets down from yours. it’s always been a problem and they’re actively trying to shut down the slaughterhouse. but they’re surprisingly level-headed and want to 'handle' this problem with logic.

the owner of the slaughterhouse [male] archer – your younger brother, he’s honestly kind of a mess. he was not ready for this responsibility but he’s trying. the mischievous boy you grew up with, you don’t know where he is anymore.

the owner of the slaughterhouse [female] iris – your younger sister, she’s always been loud and bold. but she’s changed too, she’s calm and collected. she’s trying her best to help her brother along too.

the sheriff [male] lazlo ripley – a pompous man with nothing else to do but terrorize those he thinks are inferior to him.

DEMO [Coming Soon]

warning: this story is still under development, all elements are subject to change!!

#gold dust #gold dust if #if wip #writing #interactive fiction #interactive story #interactive novel #intro post #upcoming if #choice of games #cog #choice script

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oatmealwrites · 4 months ago

Text

Catch Kira, NOT Feelings! Ch.1

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L x Fem!Reader

Part 2

Ch.1 is finallllly done LMAO. This is probably gonna be a medium-long fic but I haven't quite decided yet so buckle up. Eventually some NSFW in later chapter but relative slow burn at the start.

word count: 5.1k

Synopsis:

As a graduate criminology student, you're more than ecstatic to jump at your mentor's offer to join the task force chasing down Kira. Mr. Yagami has prepared you for a successful career in the law and justice system, but with the public disappointment in the police's inability to catch Kira, finding a well paying job will be difficult. But a recommendation letter from L would open doors you can't even imagine. It's simple, you just have to catch Kira... NOT feelings.

Masterlist

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(Post time skip 1 - Aka Light in university now & helping the investigation. Just after ukita death)

November 4 -

You shift your weight from leg to leg inside the elevator, rehearsing your introduction and replaying the instructions from Mr. Yagami over and over again. The red LEDs indicate a higher and higher floor of the hotel and each second feels like an eternity passing.

“You’ll be fine Y/N. I’ve already worked it out with the task force, there’s no unnecessary expectation of you.”

You turn to Mr. Yagami and let out a slow exhale, feeling the pressure leave your lungs but the weight remaining on your shoulders.

“I know, it’s just big shoes to fill. Only the best are working with L to catch Kira.”

“Well Matsuda joined right away,” he replies, a small smirk on his lips, “If that makes you feel any better.”

You look down at your shoes and let out a light laugh, you’ve worked with Matsuda before. Interning under the Chief before he left the police force created lots of opportunities to work with lots of different officers. Matsuda was always one of your favorites.

“Ha, it kinda does. But he’s loyal and committed to the case-,”

“You are too. Don’t sell yourself short. I went through the interview with you regarding the risks in finding Kira and have seen your analysis take down a variety of other criminals. You have great potential to be an officer.”

Mr. Yagami gives you a paternal smile and his eyes hold nothing but honesty, “I’m glad to have you on this task force. I mean it.”

“Thank you,” a grateful tone leaves your lips and you can’t help but feel better at his compliments. It was a reassurance you needed to hear.

The elevator dings softly and the metal doors slide open with Mr. Yagami extending his arm over the sensor to allow your exit before his. As you step onto the plush carpet of the expensive hotel floor, a feeling of guilt washes over you. Mr. Yagami leads the way down the hall and you follow in silence, still comparing yourself to the other members of the task force.

While yes you were determined to catch Kira, the reasoning behind it wasn’t all about morality. To be honest you almost agreed with Kira at first - a new world where people who did wrong actually got punished compared to the slow and tedious bureaucratic pace of justice was appealing. Though after the killings of petty criminals and FBI agents, the resonance of Kira’s message faded to one of selfishness.

Though maybe I’m not much better. Truth be told, catching Kira was a priority for you ethically, but so were the very extensive benefits it offered. Being a graduate student in criminology and psychology there were very few jobs you could pursue upon graduation. That, combined with the over public disappointment in the very justice system you were about to work in, made finding a secure and well paying job almost impossible. But, if you could catch Kira and get a recommendation from someone like L on your CV? The possibilities would be endless.

The heel of your shoes has a muffled ‘click’ on the carpet as you walk behind Mr. Yagami and eventually reach a door near the end of the halfway. Almost no other room doors were present on this entire half of the hall, indicating this room was extremely large and extremely expensive to rent out.

Yagami gives you a small smile of encouragement and knocks a specific pattern before scanning a plastic room card and turning the knob. There’s a glow from the overhead ceiling lights that pour out of the room and into the hallway along with several hushed voices chatting just out of sight.

“I think we should review the – “

“Sshh.. I think Chief is back.”

You follow Mr. Yagami past the room entrance and enter what seems to be a penthouse hotel suite living room scattered with papers and boxes alike. A group of men stand around the coffee table and pause when you and Mr. Yagami walk further into the room.

Matsuda catches your eye and instantly smiles, “Woa, Y/N! I didn’t realize you were going to join us!-”

His expression is cut short when another man smacks him lightly on the back of the head, “Idiot! Wasn’t the first thing that L said to do was not reveal any names?”

Your eyes widen. These guys are serious.

Matsuda looks up at the man in worry and then at you apologetically, “Ah I’m sorry,” he scratches the back of his head sheepishly, “I didn’t mean to put you at risk there.”

You smile lightly and Mr. Yagami walks further into the room to pick up a few papers and scan them over, interested in what the group was working on before you two had arrived. “It’s fine Aizawa, L already cleared us all of being Kira. The only issue would be if Y/N was.”

The statement holds no threat of you actually being Kira but it’s enough to make you feel uneasy and the other members shift awkwardly. Has one of them already been suspected of being Kira? No way… not a member of the police surely?

You snap out of your thoughts and give a light bow to the group, “Hi everyone. My name is Y/N and I’m excited to join you all in the investigation to catch Kira. Let’s work well together.”

The group softens and smiles at your introduction and one by one introduces themself briefly. You already knew Matsuda, the man who scolded him was named Aizawa, and the tall man who was quietly skimming papers was named Mogi.

“This is a small group. You weren’t kidding Mr. Yagami when you said only the most committed are involved.” The statement has a light-hearted joke sense to it but no one moves to laugh.

Mogi shifts his weight awkwardly, “Well.. we actually lost a member, Ukita, not too long ago. Kira killed him.”

SHIT. You want to die right then and there. Kira if you can read my thoughts please strike me down too.

“Oh! Im so sorry I didn’t know-”

“It’s alright Y/N. We purposely keep super tight lips about everything and all our members. It makes sense you didn’t realize. But I hope this serves as a reminder of the gravity of the situation at hand. If you aren’t willing to die for this cause, I recommend you turn away now. You’re still young and have a lot of life ahead of you.”

You turn to Mr. Yagami and blink before shaking your head. A life ahead of me? I have no other career paths and no way to climb and earn a livable wage without doing this. I need this case and this recommendation.

“No- I want to do this. I want to be here. I want to catch Kira.”

The group’s tension dissipates and they all turn their attention back to the coffee table and it’s papers.

“Here,” Mogi starts, handing you a manila folder, “Watari dropped these off earlier. We should get started with the most Kira clues.”

You take the folder gently and sit on the edge of the armrest of the couch, skimming through the papers until a set of photographs tumble out. Gently closing the folder you reach down to retrieve the photos, only hesitating when you see the subject. Prisoner suicide notes.

Carefully you flip through each photo, quietly trying to take it all in. There’s four photos in total each numbered in the corner:

A male prisoner had stabbed himself in the cafeteria with a knife. His suicide note written on the back: “Theives deserve their punishment”

A male prisoner who was beaten to death in the prison yard. He had left a note in his cell: “Dead ends everywhere”

A male prisoner hanging himself with a note in blood on the wall behind him “The victims deserve justice”

A female prisoner who had jumped from the roof. Her suicide note written on the back: “Are you watching, L?”

You examine the photos and their suicide notes for a few minutes, your brows furrowed in focus. At first you lean over to the coffee table and place them all note-side up; after a moment you flip them over to show the images. A bead of sweat drips down the side of your face and you bite the edge of your thumb nail without realizing.

Before you can properly go through the rest of the contents of the folder, Matsuda speaks up, “Oh the photos? Those have stumped me all morning. But-!” He leans down to flip the images once again. He places them in the order 3,1,4,2. “In this order they say something. “The. Thieves. Are. Dead.”

You nod and look up at Matsuda, “Yes, in this order we can assume Kira is trying to convey a message to us.”

Something isn’t right; this feels off somehow.

You release the nail from your teeth and shake your head, eyes never leaving the images, “Yes we could, but it wouldn’t make any sense. Are all of these inmates thieves? Or is Kira referring to someone else?”

Matsuda looks at you wide-eyed and a bit embarrassed, “Oh, in the folder it mentions two of them were murderers now that you mention it..”

No, there’s something else wrong here.

You keep staring at the images, “it’s strange Kira would leave such a vague message with such a group. Mr. Yagami already informed me how Kira did his tests about the actions leading up to a death, so writing these notes would have some significance. But..”

You gently lift the images again, this time studying the attire of each inmate in the photos. “Each person is from a different jail. Their clothing and health state indicates they weren’t in the same prison system.”

Mogi leans over and shrugs, letting out a soft sigh, “why does that matter? Kira has killed from nearly every jail in the country at this point.”

You meet his gaze for a moment, “I mean this work is kinda sloppy. It’s obvious he didn’t do proper research on each prison.”

Mogi opens his mouth in slight shock, waiting for you to elaborate. You tilt your head and survey the image of the deceased female inmate, your eyes lingering on the background building of the prison. Without missing a beat you lift the photo to Mogi, “I mean this jail is only one floor. If you jumped 3.5m (11.5ft) maybe you’d break your ankle.” You stare at the image of the woman’s distorted body, “Not 4 ribs, both kneecaps, and skull.”

Mr. Yagami stares at the images over your shoulder in a mix of disbelief and awe; he places his hand on your shoulder supportively. Matsuda lets out a light gasp and takes the photo of the woman and looks at it incredulously with an audible ‘woa’.

You look up from the table and then at Mr. Yagami, “Are there any other fake Kira photographs in this pile?”

Before the chief can answer a voice rings out from the connecting bedroom door that is now swung open, “Naturally all of them were doctored for this test. But nice work Y/N. You solved that faster than I was expecting.”

The entire group turns to face him and you find yourself raising to your feet in respect. L.

Your eyes drift up and latch onto his; almost in a trance. Dark disheveled hair seemed to splay in every direction, covering where his eyebrows would be, and his awful posture rounded his back forward. His deep gray eyes and purple bags from lack of sleep contrasted the paleness of his skin. Rather than professional attire, baggy denim jeans hung low on his hips and an oversized henley draped his frame. He shifted his weight from side to side waiting for your response.

Any words paused in your mouth as you drank in the appearance of the man in front of you. Half of you was awestruck to see the famous detective you’ve only heard stories of in person; the other half was mentally scolding yourself to set some higher standards.

Maybe it’s because you spent too much time around men with pensions and none your own age. Yea. That’s it.

The bar really is in hell huh.

You swallowed any stupid remarks and extended your hand to him, “It’s nice to meet you, L.”

L looked at your hand apprehensively and slowly reached forward to complete the shake. The look on his face made it seem like he was forcing himself to shake your hand and only resolved into doing so just to be polite. Jerk. It’s not like my hands are dirty.

“Well, now that introductions are formally over, I have some other details on the Kira case I would like us to focus our attention on.”

L sauntered further into the room and slid the manila folder with the test photos and information to the side. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, a senior-aged man appeared with a rolling cart containing paper boxes filled with miscellaneous files on the bottom and an arrangement of desserts and coffee cups on the top.

With a whisper of ‘thanks’, you gently lifted a mug from the cart and blew some steam away from the rim, lips hovering the ceramic. While L and Mr. Yagami began separating some of the files, you took a seat on the couch next to Matsuda, giving him a light elbow in the side.

“Hey, did you know that was a test?” You whispered.

Matsuda looked at you wide eyed, “What? No way! Ryuzaki never tells me anything when he plans stunts like that!”

You raise an eyebrow and turn to look at everyone else in the room, “Ryuzaki..?”

Your eyes stop when they meet L’s, who was staring at you as if he was involved in the conversation from the beginning. You avert your gaze awkwardly and turn your attention back to the warm mug in your hands, cheeks slightly warm. Most people look away when they get caught staring…

“My apologies for any confusion. I’ve told the group they can call me Ryuzaki or L during this investigation. Given that we know Kira needs a name and face to kill, it only makes sense.”

Mogi shifts in his seat with a slight tick in his eyebrow and mumbles lowly, “Yea as if you didn’t already know everything about us though.”

You turn to the man and then back at L, or Ryuzaki, or whoever, noticing the tension in the room.

“Ah I see.” You say lightly, trying to progress the conversation and go back to the main objective at hand.

With prolonged silence now hanging over everyone, you reach forward to grab two small sugar cubes and place them into your coffee before taking a sip. In your peripherals you can see Ryuzaki watching every movement of your hands but never saying anything. This time when you lock eyes he turns away first.

Mr. Yagami lets out a slight cough and begins passing folders out to everyone, “Alright enough small talk, these folders contain some of the tapes the Second Kira had sent to the news stations. Let's split into teams and see what we can cover.”

Placing the mug on the coffee table, you reached forward to grab a folder and flip through the contents.

“Lets have Mogi and Mr. Yagami compare the DNA found in forensics to what we currently have in the database. Matsuda and Y/N, please look at the transcriptions and real Kira suicide notes to look for any irregularities. Aizawa, please extend our list of contacts to include radio broadcasters as well,” Ryuzaki takes the hangnail on his thumb between his teeth while speaking, “We don’t know if the Second Kira has made contact with Kira #1… but there’s a chance they may get desperate and try other outlets of communication if they haven’t already. I’ll be reviewing the 4 different outcome tapes on the television if anyone needs my assistance. Ok?”

There’s a unified “yes!” after he finished speaking, the small teams immediately breaking off into separate sections of the hotel room.

You sit at the kitchen table of the vast suite, skimming your hands over various transcriptions, each one describing an unyielding obligation to the cause of Kira. You tilt your head and furrow your brows between the two documents in your hands.

“Hey Matsuda?”

“Hmm?”

“These two are completely different in terms of voice, grammar, everything..”

Matsuda looks up from his own set of papers and leans in over your shoulder, letting out an awkward laugh, “Oh I should have said this earlier- we actually wrote some of them pretending to be Kira in order to get the Second Kira talking. Why don’t we pile up the ones the team made and focus only on ones from Second Kira.”

Your mouth formed a small ‘O’ at his statement before nodding. Matsuda skims through the files, deftly collecting the papers of which the task force had authored into a neat pile and sliding you a different stack of notes to analyze. This time the stack included the real Kira authored suicide notes. You mutter a ‘thanks’ and go back to your position hovering over the table and straining your neck. For some reason you can’t shake the feeling of wanting to analyze the ones against the transcription the task force had authored. Just focus. You let out a breath and get to work.

****

After what seems like a few hours the group is called back into the main living room to discuss everyone’s progress. Mr. Yagami stands first, “Well the DNA on all the videotapes matches each other. It’s definitely the same person sending these.”

Mogi rubs his hand on the back of his neck with some frustration, “The DNA is in the police database; not for a criminal record but one regarding a victim of a crime. It may take some time before we can get approval to unseal the records… But at least we will know for sure who our suspect is within a few days; a week at max!”

The group hums with energy at the lead and Ryuzaki takes the nail of his thumb in between his lips again turning his attention to you.

Matsuda stands and points to a few lines on the paper, “We noticed a particular line about ‘showing notebooks in Aoyama’. It’s out of place and might be an indication that the Second Kira wants to use this as a meeting place.”

Ryuzaki nods and shuts his eyes, “I was thinking the same thing.. Now if there’s nothing else-”

“Wait.”

Ryuzaki opens his eyes and turns his attention back to you and Matsuda looks down with a slight puzzled expression.

You pick at your nails in nervousness for a moment and look at the group, “I don’t want to jump to any conclusions here but I noticed some similarities in the actual Kira suicide notes and the transcript you all had made..”

Mr. Yagami’s face pales and he stutters a few words out before Ryuzaki lifts his hand without even looking to silence him. The hangnail now forgotten, he leans in over the armrest of the couch only inches away from your face, as if he wanted to study every detail.

“Really? That’s very interesting Y/N please continue your reasoning,” his voice is the most energetic you’ve heard it.

The proximity makes you instinctively lean back until he closes the distance so far you have no more room to move. Almost smelling the scent of sweet coffee on his breath you nervously exhale and lift both the task force written transcript and a suicide note from Kira.

“The wording on the on the Kira suicide notes are very egotistical to me. It’s taunting like he’s one step ahead and in a position of earned authority,” you then tilt your head to the scripted video, “and this mentions about bestowing forgiveness. It’s an uncannily similar voice to a person in a position of power looking down on the recipient.”

Ryuzaki leans in almost a millimeter closer before sinking back into his seat with an eerie smile on his face. You hesitate, not putting either document down and seemingly staring back into the trance of his eyes.

“Isn’t that good though? Your ability to write an extremely good dupe..?” You're barely whispering it to Ryuzaki with your entire focus on him. His eyes don’t leave yours, and it feels like this is an entire conversation between just the two of you.

“Oh I didn’t write that.”

For a moment your eyes widen and the illusion of a private conversation comes crashing down around you. Before you can part your lips for clarification Mr. Yagami’s voice booms out from across the coffee table, “Enough of this Ryuzaki! I thought you invited Light to this investigation for him to help us!”

Light?

You were well acquainted with the Yagami family, having spent nearly the same amount of time with them as your own household. Light was extremely intelligent, well spoken, and borderline perfect at everything he did; it makes sense Ryuzaki would want him working this case.

Though where was he? You scanned the room quickly from your seat. Oh yea, class. An unfortunate situation you could relate to, considering you had a 9am lecture tomorrow morning and it was already 8pm.

“I did invite him for his help. I just find Y/N’s observation extremely interesting. I’m aware this situation makes you uncomfortable, but having now a second person make a connection raises my suspicion of him to 10%.”

“He was writing that note while trying to sound like Kira. Don’t you think questioning him for doing his task well is a bit much?”

Your head was beginning to hurt. Light was a suspect of being Kira? It didn’t make any sense, surely there had to be a mistake. You turned your attention back to the conversation between Mr. Yagami and Ryuzaki, noting the intensity of fire in each of their eyes. They were being serious? I guess that makes sense as to why L wanted to test me when I first came in. And why the group seemed so uneasy at the earlier mention of one of them being Kira.

“You’ve probably filled in the gaps haven’t you?”

Your eyes shoot up to meet Ryuzaki’s, the distance between your faces short, but not nearly as close as he was earlier. Unconsciously, you lick your bottom lip with a slight stress on your face and nod slightly.

Mr. Yagami sighs and sinks into his seat, his head cradled by his left hand. The group looks around each other awkwardly and Ryuzaki lets out a sigh of exasperation which indicates they’ve all had this conversation before.

“Let’s take a slight reccess please? Y/N you should probably start heading home for your classes tomorrow.”

You look up at Mr. Yagami, and the group mumbles in agreement, slowly standing up and stretching.

“Nice work today rookie. Can’t wait to see what you figure out next,” Mogi says genuinely while placing a supportive hand on your shoulder.

You grin up at him and wave bashfully, it wasn’t like you solved the case. Yet. You could practically hear his recommendation letter now and the thought of it was enough to spark some energy.

As the group shuffled out to take either vending machine or smoke breaks, you noticed Ryuzaki staring at you while you slipped your jacket over your shoulders. He was usually staring at you anyways, but this one was different; before you could even raise an eyebrow he stood up and walked to the bedroom door. Glancing at you once before slipping inside.

With a quick scan of your surroundings to make sure no one was watching, you casually walked over to door and stepped inside as if it were the exit. The bedroom in question was barely a bedroom at all. A desk stacked with hundreds of papers sat by the window, bookshelves lined the walls, and the floor was littered with evidence boxes. The only thing that made it a bedroom was the king size bed made neatly and untouched against the wall jutting into the center of the room.

Ryuzaki was standing at the desk, digging through a box mumbling to himself about if ‘Watari had moved it’ before pulling out a small cellphone and turning to you.

“Ah, I’m glad you got my signal.”

Signal? He stared without blinking and then casually walked into another room. It wasn’t so much as following a signal as it was making sure he wasn’t having a stroke.

“Yea, is there something you wanted to speak about?”

Ryuzaki looked at the door and then motioned for you to come closer; which you obediently did without even a second guess. Only inches apart he studied your face again, “I’m glad you picked up on that note sounding a little too authentic. The very notion drives Mr. Yagami up the wall.”

You nod, “I mean it makes sense, it’s not exactly a light accusation.”

Ryuzaki follows your words and then twitches as if he were re-listening to them; only catching the joke on the third time through. A small smile cracks his face and he tilts his head to the side, “Yes I agree. Being accused of Kira is a heavy burden, especially considering the life in prison sentence or death penalty when caught.”

The air deflated out of you.

You suck in a breath defeated, “Yep.. so why exactly did you call me in here?”

“I needed to speak in private,” Ryuzaki gnaws at his bottom lip with his canines and then locks eyes with you again, “What I’m about to ask needs to remain between us.”

Immediately your eyes widen and heat rushes to your face. The proximity of him seems to magnify everything and a warm feeling began to brew in your lower abdomen. The low lighting of the room, the intimate whisper of his voice, and the large king bed in your peripheral skewed any assumption of what he was about to say next.

I need to go out and touch grass. Call some friends, go on a date, do something. This guy is a total weirdo and I’m standing here shaking like fucking teenager.

You nod, not wanting to even speak and risk the shakiness of your voice being heard by him.

“You go to the same school as Light, correct? I’d like you just to keep an eye on him while you’re both on campus if that’s alright.”

You look from one eye to the other, taking a moment to pause and reflect on his proposal. The length of your hesitation was enough to make L backtrack slightly, “If you’re uncomfortable with that I completely underst-”

“I’ll do it.”

His eyes widen and blink twice before a small smile breaks his lips again, “I’m glad. I don’t have much time to go to campus or classes anyways so it’ll be nice to have to monitor him while I stay here.”

You nod in understanding before double taking at his words, “Wait do you go there too?”

Ryuzaki now fiddles with the cellphone in hands, typing rapidly and not bothering to look up, “Hm? Oh yes I entered the school to keep track of Light, but I won’t need to follow him around there if you’re willing to help me.”

You swallowed, noting the way he casually mentioned going to the university you were initially rejected from as if you asked him the weather.

Before you can mumble anything under your breath, Ryuzaki gently takes your hand in his and flips it to be facing palm-up. With his hand still on your wrist, the other places a cellphone into the palm and he looks at you intently.

“It’s important to note that on the off-chance Light really is Kira, it means he’s willing to risk killing to protect himself. I have emergency belts for everyone, but I’d also like you to have this.”

His hand falls to his side after a moment of them lingering a beat too long and he takes half a step back; turning to face his desk but not looking at anything in particular.

You click a few buttons on the phone and notice the way he had already placed his contact information into the device. A small grin grazes your lips and you slip the phone into your back pocket, “This way I can text information without sending a SOS? Plus it probably looks more natural anyways.”

Ryuzaki turns back to you, his hands firmly at his sides like they weren't just around your own, “Exactly. Besides, Light will learn you work with us shortly and he’ll start being on guard. If he thinks that cellphone is your personal one, he won’t think twice about you using it in front of him casually.”

A wave of excitement washes over you, fieldwork was always your favorite and this felt like a borderline James Bond movie.

“You got it!”

Ryuzaki pulls out his own cellphone from his baggy denim pocket and begins typing into it, “I’ll have Watari drive you home tonight. Would you like an escort to class tomorrow?” His eyes briefly look into yours with an emotion that could almost be described as hope. Almost.

Instinctively you raise your hands, “No that’s alright. I can just take the metro.”

Ryuzaki nods curtly but you continue, “But if you can arrange a ride after my classes to here that would be nice.”

His eyes hold yours for a moment and he turns away to his desk, this time walking up to the wooden drawers and digging through them, “Alright. I’ll tell Watari, just send your course schedule when you have the moment.”

Ryuzaki never turns back around and after a few moments of an awkward silence you spin to leave the room without either of you saying a word. The weird intimacy of the moment left you feeling an emotion you couldn’t quite pin point.

After saying your goodnights to the group and following Watari to the black luxury Sedan in the parking lot, the image of a warm shower and snuggling into bed seemed to be calling your name. Shoes clicking on the ground, you slid into the seat of the opened passenger door Watari had opened and watched him walk around to get into the driver’s seat.

Quickly telling him your address you found yourself staring out the window and for a split second, seeing the figure of a man watching you from the penthouse suite you had just exited. But by the time you blinked he was gone; the only thing pulling you from your thoughts was the slight buzz from your back pocket of the phone Ryuzaki had given you.

Ryuzaki:

Please be careful tomorrow. Let me know if anything goes wrong.

#fanfic #death note #l x reader #lawliet #lawliet x reader #l x yn #lawliet x yn #oatmealwordslawliet #L #light yagami #misa amane

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gojoidyll · 1 year ago

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Imagine taking Katheryne's place for the day in Liyue, and when the traveler comes by for a new commission they are surprised to see you. You, on the other hand, aren't surprised to see them as you expected for them to come by. However, what you didn't expect was to see someone who doesn't belong.

He was clad in expensive looking attire, the contrast of blues and whites matching perfectly with his pale complexion and long silver hair. His eyes were mesmerizing too. They reminded you much of your dear friend Zhongli's eyes despite the major difference in color.

"Oh, y/n, we didn't expect to see you here today! Where's Katheryne?"

"Hello Paimon, Traveler, Katheryne is out for the day and a new commission popped up asking for anyone who was free to take her place. The mora is good, so I decided to take up the job since I don't have anything else to do."

"Oohhh, that makes sense," Paimon answered.

You smiled before directing your attention to their tall friend, "may I ask who this is?"

"This Neuvillette," Paimon introduced with an air of arrogance in her voice, "he's the chief justice of Fontaine! Pretty cool, huh?"

You bowed to Neuvillette, "it's nice to meet you sir."

"No, the pleasure is mine... your name is y/n, correct? The traveler and Paimon talk a lot about you. They were actually saying how they wanted me to meet you at some point."

Before you could say anything, you felt a tug on your sleeve, "miss y/n, your shift is over."

Nodding you turn back to the three before you, "well, as you can tell, since I'm done working for the day, why don't I tag along? That is, if it's alright."

Meeting Neuvillette was definitely interesting. He was both kind and courteous. A true gentleman. Not to mention that you quite like how he spoke to you. His voice was nice, smooth, and definitely easy on the ears. And just as he liked talking about Fontaine, he also liked listening to you.

Most of the time when you hung out with the traveler and Paimon, Paimon was usually the one who dominated the conversation (not that you minded, you weren't much of a talker to begin with), so being the center of attention in a conversation for once definitely made you nervous. Especially when such a handsome and refined man was giving such a attention.

And later you would fail to notice how Paimon and the traveler would give each other a high-five before leaving both you and Neuvillette to talk amongst yourselves. Neuvillette noticed, however, but decided to not say anything.

"You know Miss y/n," Neuvillette started but you gently cut him off, "y/n is fine."

"Y/n," he amended with a smile, "I've actually been quite the fan of yours for some time. And truthfully, it was I who asked the traveler to meet you."

As it turns out, you were actually a performer of sorts. Your voice was something that everyone could admire for hours on end. But at some point you decided to take a break. The life of an adventurer too good to pass up. (You did promise yourself to sing again someday, but for now, you were on a ... vacation of sorts.)

"You- you're a fan of mine?"

"Yes, I always enjoyed your performances when you would grace Fontaine with your voice. And when I heard you had went on break, I honestly thought I wouldn't be able to hear you again."

Your face felt hot all of sudden, it wasn't everyday that such a gorgeous man showered you in such praises. You felt him grab your hand as he stopped walking to look at you.

"Y/n, I-"

"Am i interrupting something?"

You looked to see who it was and immediately broke out into a bright smile, "Mr. Zhongli!"

You gently let go of Neuvillette's hand before walking up to your friend to give him a hug, "I haven't seen you in awhile! Where on Teyvat have you been?"

"Just traveling my dear, nothing to worry about."

As you pulled away to introduce Zhongli to Neuvillette, you didn't notice how the air got thicker and the area more tense than what it was.

Oh, and did I forget to mention that you didn't know that Zhongli is actually the geo Archon? Yeah...

Having two dragons fight over you is quite nice, though.

#genshin #genshin impact #zhongli #neuvillette #genshin zhongli #genshin neuvillette #zhongli x reader #zhongli x you #zhongli x y/n #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x y/n #neuvillette x you

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weaselandfriends · 4 months ago

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The Making Of: When I Win the World Ends

(For my previous Making Of post, see The Making Of: Cleveland Quixotic.)

I. 1999

It was the year of the cubicle movie. It was the year of Fight Club, of Office Space, of Being John Malkovich, of Three Kings, of The Matrix, and of American Beauty. It was the year of suburban malaise, of eternal sunshine, of ceaseless normality. A year of United States hegemony; a year whose chief terror was that THIS WAS IT.

Before the millennium turned and the towers fell, there was an initial challenge to this order, a completely inconsequential one made consequential by a newly minted 24/7 news media machine running out of noise to fill dead air now that people were sick to bursting of the Clinton impeachment. This challenge came not through war, revolution, or violence, but through entertainment. Children's entertainment.

And I was a child. Unaware of any cultural context, I knew only one thing: I loved Pokémon. I really, really loved Pokémon.

I owned Red Version, Blue Version, Yellow Version, Pokémon Pinball, Pokémon Stadium, Pokémon Snap, Hey You Pikachu, a Pokémon Tetris sort of puzzle game, even the Pokémon TCG game for Gameboy. I had ten to fifteen strategy guides for the games, an encyclopedia of the 151 Pokémon, a choose your own adventure book, an I Spy-style book. I had Pokémon figurines, Pokémon plushies, toy Poké Balls, toy Pokédexes. I had Pokémon stamps and Pokémon stickers and a deck of Pokémon cards. Not trading cards, just a standard 52-card deck with Pokémon pictures on it. Of course I also had the trading cards. A complete set of the first three runs, plus a special Mew card you could get from I dunno Toys R Us or something as part of some promotion. I had a guide for the card game that explained which cards were good or bad even though I didn't even play the card game. I had a Pokémon Tamagotchi and Pokémon pencils and Pokémon erasers and Ash Ketchum's hat and I dressed up as Ash Ketchum for Halloween. Of course I watched every episode of the anime, and in notebooks I drew doodles of existing Pokémon and came up with names for new Pokémon. My father had died that year.

My father was a sports fanatic. Traditional sports. He, too, collected. Sports memorabilia, baseball cards, figures of famous stars. When I was an infant, he drove me on a cross country road trip to Lambeau Field in Green Bay, Wisconsin, where I became a part owner of the Green Bay Packers. He had always wanted me to grow up and pursue professional sports. When I was born, the doctor apparently said to start looking for football colleges, a quote he saved in a scrapbook of baby photos. He had played sports himself, in college; he was a baseball catcher, until a hitter accidentally struck him in the head with a full force swing.

Almost everything I personally remember about him involves him dying. He was sick for a long time, and I remember hospitals and hospital beds and strange smells and gauze. And then one day my mother told me he died.

He was a charismatic man, very social and very popular. He had many friends and a lot of family, all of whom had constantly been around our house. Once he was gone, they stopped coming around. Then it was just me and my mother, who was not a fanatic for anything, except maybe her job as an elementary school teacher, which consumed her time as she assiduously prepared lesson plans and graded tests until late at night. When my father died, she got into some argument with his side of the family, the details of which I still don't fully understand, and afterward they no longer spoke. Her own family lived far away, out-of-state, seen only at Christmas. The house became quiet.

And I… played… Pokémon.

II. The Electric Tale of Pikachu

Toshihiro Ono was a mangaka primarily known for shotacon and futanari hentai. His credits such as Innyou Megami and Anal Justice made him a no-brainer pick for the officially licensed Pokémon manga, Electric Tale of Pikachu, as it too would feature a 10-year-old boy as the protagonist.

This manga would be the foundation for my conception of what Pokémon was, narratively. Though I also had the Pokémon Adventures manga that ran concurrently and which has by now long outlasted it, Electric Tale left a significantly deeper imprint on my memory.

In summary, Electric Tale is a retelling of the first two seasons of the anime. Ash Ketchum is the main character, he's accompanied by Misty and later Brock, his rival is Gary, and Team Rocket harangues him.

What sets Electric Tale apart is its tone, which is far more adult than Adventures and the anime. Obviously, part of this comes from the author's primary area of expertise being hentai. Even in the censored English version, there is a sense of sexual playfulness in how every single female character is an older woman who likes to tease Ash about his romantic interests.

But there are other elements that creep in unrelated to sex, due to the perspective of someone only used to speaking to adults who suddenly has to speak to children. Ono doesn't really get the childish fantasy of leaving at 10 being normal in society, so he introduces an element where Ash can only get a one year deferment from school and will have to return unless he hits it big. Team Rocket are former competitive hopefuls who flamed out and then, with no education or work experience to speak of, had no choice but to turn to crime. The Pokémon are depicted more realistically, often eschewing the toyetic mascot elements of their designs.

And the landscapes are often wistful, even apocalyptic in their presentation:

This more sedate, mature, realistic depiction of Pokémon became what I wanted Pokémon to be, what I projected onto an original Red and Blue version that left everything open to interpretation, and what would increasingly frustrate me with the series as it deviated more toward bombastic villain groups with goofy destroy-the-world plots. (Which was what put me off Pokémon Adventures.)

Amid all this, one panel stuck with me in particular. One panel I would think about ever since I first saw it as a child, that would turn around in my head and keep coming back. That panel would eventually—over two decades later—become the basis for When I Win the World Ends, the seed from which an entire story grew:

III. The Unkillable Demon King

But in the interim, the seed remained dormant. 1999 fell away. I grew up. I played later Pokémon games and increasingly lost interest by around Gen 4 and 5. Then I went to college.

That's when I started playing League of Legends.

I was something of a psychopath in college. I operated on a strict schedule and did not deviate. Wake up, read 50 pages of classic literature, write 2,000 words, go to classes, study, and then by about four in the afternoon all my obligations were done and it was League of Legends until midnight.

I wasn't actually interested in the League of Legends esports scene in its infancy. In 2012, I was actually invited to attend its World Championship in Los Angeles and refused. (When I received this invitation, I had just finished reading Homestuck for the first time, and was caught in a month-long haze in which I could do little but bask within what I considered the greatest artistic achievement I'd seen in my life. It was this month that inspired Modern Cannibals.) I only liked playing the game and watching Dunkey videos.

It wasn't until the next year, when a girl I was interested in recommended I watch, that I tuned in to my first professional League of Legends game, at the 2013 World Championship. It was there that I got to watch this new, hyped, upcoming Korean player who had apparently taken the pro scene by storm that season. That player was Faker.

It has seemingly become essential to the narrative of any sport that there is "the man who always wins." American football has Tom Brady, and the moment Brady retired, he was replaced by Patrick Mahomes. Basketball has LeBron James, picking up the mantle from Michael Jordan. It's as if someone being "the best" validates the skill-based promise of the sport, the fundamental top-down fairness of its premise, the idea that the person who wins is the best and deserved it. Faker would become the backbone of League of Legends esports and his ascendance correlated to that of the sport itself, from its humble roots at small-scale tournaments in places like Jönköping, Sweden, to max capacity arenas in the biggest cities in the world.

It's surprising, though, how the legend of Faker had already begun even before he won his first World Championship. League of Legends was designed as a clone of Defense of the Ancients (DotA), a popular mod for Warcraft III that emphasized competitive play. In its infancy, the competitive scene was mostly dominated by players who had migrated from DotA to League. They were older, winning thanks to a fundamental conceptual understanding of the game that was superior to everyone else, and frankly not very good in the aggregate. As League of Legends esports exploded in popularity from 2013 to 2015, these old pros would get filtered out swiftly, with even the biggest and most popular names retiring after only a couple of years in the scene.

Even once the new generation of League-grown talent ascended, though, careers were nasty, brutish, and short. The best players only remained on top for a season, as game patches dramatically changed viable strategies. Internationally the sport was dominated by Koreans, with the Korean regional league sometimes being seen as more difficult to win than the World Championship, where Koreans often breezed through uncompetitive Chinese, European, and North American squads.

This possibly affected the demographics of the professional scene. South Korea has mandatory military service, and leaving the pro scene to join the military was basically the end of a Korean player's career. This meant that it was rare to see a Korean player older than 25. Retiring in your early 20s was and remains common. Korean organizations, which had an infrastructural leg up on other regions due to the popularity of StarCraft 2 esports in the country, became adept at scouting promising players at 15 or 16, building them into top level competitive pros, wringing them dry for a few seasons with brutal training regimens, and spitting them out.

Faker was the exception. Though he had been discovered young by SK Telecom, a major Korean telecommunications company that did esports on the side, and gone through the training regimen, he refused to be spit out. He simply didn't stop. He won in 2013, then with a completely new four-man squad around him won again in 2015 and 2016 before narrowly losing the 2017 finals in a nail biter. Given League of Legends esports had only existed since 2011, he basically accounted for half of the championships up until that point. Nobody else, except for his teammates, had won more than once. And it was like it was known he would be this juggernaut the instant he manifested ex nihilo. Like it was known, even in 2013, that he would always win.

Then, Faker stopped winning.

By 2017, League of Legends esports was a titan. Venture capital firms, seeing the millions of eyeballs, thought that this was the next NBA in its infancy, and decided to get in on the ground floor. Multiple millions of dollars were pumped into the scene as even mediocre players in weak regions like North America pulled seven-digit salaries. In China, where League of Legends had become the national pastime, the nation's richest oligarchs ran teams for fun and vanity, outbidding Korean organizations for top Korean players in pursuit of a trophy that had gone to Korea every year since 2013. Riot, the studio developing the game, pumped tons of money into creating a professional sports product, with skilled announcers, dedicated arenas for regional leagues, live performances by musicians like Imagine Dragons and Lil Nas X, and all the other bells and whistles one might expect from a program watched on ESPN.

In this milieu, it seemed like Faker had finally reached his limit. He was still good, but not the best. Even as an individual, while everyone still considered him the "greatest of all time," he was considered outmatched by newer pros like Chovy and ShowMaker. 2018, 2019, 2020, and 2021 passed with no championships. In 2022, on a team of mostly rookies, he reached the world finals, but was ultimately beaten. Korea's stranglehold over the sport had been shaken by China, which had finally strung together some championships. People wondered if Faker would retire, although he had managed to avoid mandatory military service by representing Korea in the Olympics-esque Asian Games. He'd dealt with wrist injuries and his level of play dropped year over year. He just didn't seem to be that good anymore, potentially holding back his team of talented young players rather than leading them to victory.

Then, in 2023—

youtube

And in 2024—

youtube

In the end, never count out Touchdown Tom. 11 years of professional play, 5 world championships.

From this longwinded explanation, you might have realized that after watching that game in 2013, I became a League of Legends esports fanatic, fulfilling the prophecy set before me by my father though perhaps in not the way he would have expected.

And the things I become a fanatic about, I want to write a story about.

IV. Modern Cannibals

There's a deleted scene in Modern Cannibals, as Maximillion is driving Z. and her friends through the Utah desert. He starts to talk about Pokémon.

"I bring it up because my university thesis was about Pokemon in particular how Pokemon has basically trained an entire generation of children to think in a completely different way than preceding generations my generation for instance our fad was Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles now I don't know how much you know about Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles but from an educational standpoint we're talking absolute bankrupt complete and utter goose egg but Pokemon now Pokemon you see it's more like there's some substance to it you know that refrain Gotta Catch Em All right?" "..." "Well to most parents it looks like a marketing gimmick you make one hundred fifty-one characters and structure a game around collecting them the merchandising potential is astronomical kids buy one hundred fifty-one trading cards stickers coloring books figurines uh collectable lunchable toys I'm sure you've got some yourself."

He continues:

"But really you look at the game itself before the big toy explosion the game itself the focus is placed less on the collection and more on the catalogue you're given a blank encyclopedia to fill and you fill it by capturing one hundred fifty-one Pokemon but the goal is to create a complete database of each and every one and this is what I argue is the educational core of the Pokemon series." His hands left the wheel to conceive of his idea in the cool air of the car, which remained steady on its ever-forward path. "Our modern era is no longer one of singular isolated knowledge it is one of the catalogue the database which is most clearly personified in the advent of the internet because now all knowledge can be at the fingertips of any one human being all that is needed is someone to go and put the catalogue together and presto whiz bang it's there think about it Z. when you catch a bunch of Pokemon where do you store them?" Z. didn't need to think long to remember the game's mechanics. "In the PC." "Exactly now isn't that odd consider it in real life terms you have real life creatures made assumedly of flesh and bone and yet you store them in a computer how does that make sense you'd expect a farm or a holding pen but no it's the computer and that too prepares the budding portion of the millennial generation to become cognizant of the linkage between the computer the encyclopedia and the database structure of knowledge in a new era." "So," said Z. "So you're saying Pokemon taught kids how to think in the digital age?"

There's also a deleted character in Modern Cannibals. Well, mostly deleted—he still shows up, unnamed, in a couple of pages. He is Cole Coulter, Z.'s older brother, a popular League of Legends streamer. Before I deleted him, his role was to accompany Mrs. Roddlevan and Frederick in an attempt to bring Z. back home. He had POV scenes that gave insight into the weirdness of his cotravelers, but ultimately, I decided he didn't add anything to the story and removed him almost entirely.

Even then, though, I was already considering the future of Cole Coulter as the protagonist of a story about League of Legends esports. Playing under the ID MadKing, he would be a North American professional top laner, once known for his aggressive duelist style but recently forced into playing boring tanks as the esports metagame became more sophisticated and tactics-based.

The story would be simple, something I envisioned as a "sports story" only about esports instead of regular sports. It would start with Cole's team being relegated from the league, only for Cole to get a last chance signing to a new team with two promising Korean imports. One import, the mid laner, would be a charismatic and eccentric player in the mold of Doinb/Ganked By Mom/Huhi, while the other, an AD carry, would be introverted and pissy and elitist, in the mold of Piglet. The team would initially struggle, cultures would clash, then a mid-season replacement to sign a psychopathic Tyler1/Tarzaned style streamer as jungler would revitalize the team, put them on a major run, and get them to the World Championship. Though they would eventually fall after a miracle run, Cole would get a moment to truly shine on the biggest stage when he won a pivotal game by aggressive split pushing rather than tank play.

Thematically, the story would be about two things. First, a counterpoint to the idea of American exceptionalism, featuring a league where Americans are particularly bad compared to Korean or Chinese players. Second, an exploration of what it means to be exceptional at all. Cole would be an all-around mediocre person. Middling at school, at (real) sports, at the various popularity contests of being a teenager. League of Legends, this niche sub-sport, is the one thing he truly excelled at, the one place where he was good, better than 99.9 percent of all players, and yet even within that statistical greatness he wound up, ultimately, in a professional scene where he was once again mediocre, relegated to "tank duty," to facilitating other players to carry.

What does it mean to be the best? How can someone be so, so good, only to reach a level where they were still nothing special? Is there any way to win if you're not "the man who always wins"?

I remembered that panel from Electric Tale of Pikachu. The last people filtered before the final champion. It's certainly no walk in the zoo!

This idea was pretty detailed for a story I never wound up writing, something I mostly blame on the years 2018 and 2019, when a lot of bad things happened to me and in retrospect I consider it a minor miracle I managed to finish Chicago at all. As a human being, I would be decimated for the next three years, and so a lot of stories I might have written in that time never came to fruition.

Meanwhile, League of Legends esports reached a peak, then the venture capital bubble burst as investors realized there was no monetization scheme in place for any interested party except Riot Games. Money hemorrhaged out, Riot shifted resources to Valorant, and a sport that had been overinflated based on projected exponential growth in perpetuity fell back down to earth.

Also, Players came out.

Players was a 2022 mockumentary about a fictional League of Legends team competing in the North American league. Conceptually, it was doing a lot of what I had planned for my story: following a single team on a rags-to-riches run, focusing on the interpersonal drama of the team members, asking questions about greatness and its pursuit. It's a pretty good show if you're familiar with League of Legends esports at all, with a lot of on-the-ground fidelity that gives it an authentic feel, which is exactly what I had been hoping to use my esports fanaticism to accomplish. It completely took the wind out of my sails; it was like my idea had already been done.

So by 2022, the idea of a League of Legends esports story was dead. But there was still a drive to create something with that spirit, that would delve into those themes.

What remained after all these years of sifting the sieve, letting sand slip through, was that one panel from the manga. The number of people pursuing greatness slowly filtering until only one remained. And if I wasn't going to pursue that idea through League of Legends, maybe I could pursue it through another vehicle. Maybe the vehicle through which the idea had originally been exposed to me. Pokémon. It all came back to Pokémon.

V. Everything Evolving Into Crabs

I knew immediately that if I were to write a Pokémon fic, it would be a tournament arc. This was the natural evolution of my esports story idea. Also, if I were to write Pokémon, I wanted it to be a story about utopia, immersed within Pokémon's near-future ideal world, where everything is clean and healthy, where society is neat and ordered.

This idea caused me to remember the novel Eyeless in Gaza by Aldous Huxley, which I had read a few years back. A mostly autobiographical bildungsroman written on the precipice of World War II, the novel ends with the young protagonist on a journey to Central America, where he meets an idealistic doctor who believes sport to be a proper substitution for war. He tells the story of two tribes locked in internecine conflict through generations, able to replace that violence with soccer matches.

And wasn't that what the world of Pokémon was, a utopia revolving around neutralizing weapons of war by using them for competitive sport?

This tournament, I envisioned, would not simply be about deciding who was best, but an ideological battle for the future of the Pokémon world. To that end, I imagined a war between an entrenched trainer class, who competed as philosopher-warriors, intense individuals with deep connections to their Pokémon, and an upstart commercialization that sought to replace the ideological underpinnings that made their society so safe and prosperous with economic accumulation. It was from this kernel that the character who would become Aracely Sosa arose: charismatic, appealing, human-empathic, and propped up by a support staff who did all the hard work of teambuilding for her.

I imagined the story having an ensemble cast, focusing on nearly every competitor equally, with the Aracely character not having any especial focus until her improbable rise to the top. I imagined a final round where she faced off against "the man who always wins," and though she would lose to him, she would seem to have won the ideological battle, altering the course of society as major corporations scrambled to employ her formula for success at a much grander scale. The story would end with this realization of the earth-shattering importance behind her run, only for Aracely to sink in disappointment. Because in the end, all she really wanted was to win.

The more I thought about it, though, the less I liked the idea of an ensemble cast. The ensemble cast element of Chicago hadn't gone over very well (though I like it), and I figured it would wind up inflating the length of the story considerably. I was coming to the end of Cleveland Quixotic, after all, and once more wanted to write something smaller, tighter, and denser.

So I oriented my thinking to instead have the story revolve around Aracely and one major rival, to give an interpersonal mirror to the ideological war being waged. Thus, Toril came about as an antithesis to everything I had imagined Aracely to be: gruff, antisocial, independent. Their rivalry would culminate in a semifinals battle, before Aracely went on to fight "the man who always wins" in the finals.

I forget exactly when the gender theme came into the equation, but it evolved as an outgrowth of (once again) my competitive League of Legends expertise, where women are essentially nonexistent despite there seemingly being no biological blocks against them. This dovetailed nicely with Pokémon, a world where women seemingly could be powerful competitors, but where—in the anime at least—none ever are. For instance, look at this chart of every major tournament in the anime:

Every known winner is male. Every known finalist and semifinalist is male. Only a handful of female characters have reached the quarterfinals. What possible in-universe justification could there be for that?

This question was actually far more prominent in early planning and drafting than it wound up being in the final work. Initially, I had Aracely's personal motivation revolve around a drive to be the first female trainer to win; this would increase the ideological conflict between her and Toril, who attempted to ignore that she was female altogether. Over time, this theme would see diminished importance in face of the last piece of the thematic puzzle: cults.

It came from reading Underground by Haruki Murakami, a nonfiction journalistic account of the 1995 Tokyo sarin gas attacks carried out by the cult Aum Shinrikyo under the direction of its leader Shoko Asahara. Japan in the 90s was experiencing its own End of History, one taken literally by those disaffected with modern society's grand narrative. The prophecies of Nostradamus became fashionable among the young, who believed that 1999 would be the final year before the world was destroyed. Murakami interviewed both survivors of the gas attack and members of Aum Shinrikyo, collecting worldviews of people who simply thought they were "different" and who were willing to give everything in their lives to the one place that seemed to accept that difference.

The 1995 attacks were a watershed moment in Japanese culture. In their wake would come pivotal works of Japanese pop media, like the titan of otaku culture, Neon Genesis Evangelion:

(What's scary about Nostradamus' prophecy is that it might not come true. A year whose chief terror was that THIS WAS IT.)

Pokémon, whose first games released in Japan in 1996, also emerged within this post-Aum world where fixation on the minutiae of pop media was becoming a primary pillar of meaning for the youth, and it's hard not to see echoes of cultism in the evil teams that dot the series' landscape. Even Team Rocket, originally more modeled on organized crime than occultism, veers that direction in Gold and Silver, and afterward the organizations and their world-ending plots become increasingly absurd, to the point where it starts to become unclear why anyone would ever follow, say, Lysandre.

As I mentioned earlier, my personal interest in Pokémon was at odds with these clownish, Saturday morning cartoon villain organizations, but Murakami's account of the Aum attacks recontextualized them for me, made them make sense even within the framework of a "realistic" utopian world. The last elements snapped into place, and I knew my main character would be the member of one of these cults. A cult dedicated to, what else? Evolution. A core element of the Pokémon series, a perfect metaphor for the frustrating lack of movement of the End of History 90s. I imagined a cult leader as a surrogate mother figure for Aracely, who would have a strained relationship with both of her own parents, and deciding on that, the idea of making Pokémon's canon evil mother Lusamine the villain was a no-brainer. I imagined a post-SuMo Lusamine, unable to move on from her experience merged with Nihilego, languishing in Kanto after being sent there to consult with Bill, who had his own experience being merged with a Pokémon... It didn't take long to figure out how all these pieces connected.

The full form of the story had taken shape.

VI. Showdown

I knew immediately I would be following Showdown rules for the battles. No alternative even crossed my mind. I had dabbled in Showdown a few times over the years, first in Gen 3 OUs, then later in Gen 7 OUs, and I knew from experience that Pokémon is a monumentally more interesting competitive game when operating at a high level compared to either its depiction in the anime (shounen logic, mid-fight evolutions) or the general playing experience (spam your best move on your overleveled starter). I knew I would use competitive rulesets before I even considered the thematic or worldbuilding aspect I would eventually take in the story itself (i.e., that the specific rulesets prevent battles from becoming bloodsport and enforce order on the world). I simply thought doing battles this way would be far more entertaining.

To prepare, I started playing Gen 9 OUs under the guidance of a few friends who were into the competitive scene. I grinded the ladder for months, eventually getting a good enough grasp on the metagame to reach 1500 Elo on the Showdown ladder, which is not very good but generally higher than someone can reach with dumb luck.

Crafting the tournament format and rulesets used in the story wasn't difficult. I modeled the tournament format on the League of Legends World Championship, with region-based seeds (having been selected due to performance in regional tournaments) competing in four groups before the highest performers advanced to a single elimination bracket. Initially, I envisioned a 32-competitor bracket instead of the 16-competitor bracket that would appear in the final draft, but otherwise the format came quickly and easily.

In terms of the rulesets and available Pokémon, my considerations were made primarily in terms of what would be most entertaining to read. I decided to include Mega Evolutions and not include Z Moves, Dynamax, or Terastallization, because Mega Evolutions are cool and those other gimmicks are not. The bring-9-pick-6 format, while unusual in Showdown rulesets, is similar to the rules in Pokémon Stadium and VGC tournaments, and also adds a level of intrigue to which Pokémon each competitor uses. (It also enabled Red's Zapdos at the climax of the story, which was something I knew I would bring out from very early on.)

With the help of one of my friends who knew competitive Pokémon, I scripted out each battle assiduously before I wrote them. Every battle was tested using Showdown itself, with only a few turns mocked up to account for luck. For instance, in Aracely versus Jinjiao, Slowking is meant to stay asleep for three turns. Rather than rely on luck to ensure Slowking actually slept that long during the test, I could give Slowking a useless move and have him use that instead to simulate being asleep.

The only thing that couldn't be tested in Showdown was the 7 PP Kingambit trick Red uses at the end of the story, because it's impossible to set a Pokémon to have fewer than max PP in Showdown. This led to one of the bigger mistakes of the story, as it turns out that Encore would simply wear off if Kingambit ran out of PP, rather than forcing him to use Struggle like I assumed. Luckily, even if this were the case, it wouldn't change the outcome of the battle, so it's not an error I lose too much sleep over.

Character teams were chosen to thread the needle between a few considerations. The team needed to be competitively viable, reflect the character's personality in some way, and be distinct from other teams for the sake of variety. (Variety is somewhat unrealistic in real top-level competitive Pokémon, where you'll often see many almost identical teams in the top ranks. But that would be boring.) Some lack of optimization was allowed under the conceit that actually training these Pokémon to peak form would take a lot of time in the real world, compared to Showdown were optimization can be determined quickly due to the ability to immediately adjust stats and builds.

I also tried to give some preference for Pokémon that would be more familiar to layman fans, though this was difficult because Gen 8 and 9 have outrageous power creep and many popular early generation Pokémon have been completely phased out. (Using Megas helped with this issue.) It was this consideration that led to Azumarill being Aracely's ace. There was also an innate challenge to imagining what the competitive scene would look like without legendary Pokémon. Zapdos and Landorus-Therian have been inexorable staples of the competitive scene for generations. What happens in a world where they aren't used at all?

In the original 32-person bracket, I imagined Aracely competing against Jinjiao in the first round, then minor characters Adrian da Cunha and Jacq Ray Johnson in the next two rounds, before facing Toril in semifinals. I imagined Adrian da Cunha as a "hometown hero" whose team wasn't great but he was plucky with a lot of grit, and Jacq Ray Johnson as a self-aware heel who liked to use cheesy strategies and gimmicky Pokémon like Smeargle and Ditto. Condensing from 32 to 16 occurred around the same time I had settled on Lusamine as my villain/cult leader, which led to replacing those two with Gladion. I developed full brackets for both the 32-man and 16-man iterations, with character names and regions, just in case I ever needed to mention them.

All that was left to do was write the story.

VII. Unbroken Line of History

I began writing in September 2023 under the tentative title Unbroken Line of History, which I would later change to simply Lines. In the original drafts, I opened the story with a modified version of the panel from Electric Tale of Pikachu detailing how people are filtered over time in their pursuit of being the best, this time starting with all 8 billion people in the world until only one remains. The story then cut to Aracely's perspective in the restroom as she mentally prepared for her final group stage match.

At this point I was more set on Aracely being the clear protagonist of the story, so she had a few facets of her personality designed around that. First, as I mentioned before, there was a feminist angle where she was motivated specifically to be the first female trainer to win the championship. Secondly, I threw in some more generic nervousness/fear of failure. The other major difference is that I did not lead with the cult prophecy of the world ending. I originally envisioned the cult reveal to be a mid-story twist, and only obliquely hinted at it.

The scene still played out with Toril appearing and the two getting off to a bad start. Then, Cely's father tried to talk strategy with her while she ignored him, before the battle transpired in much the same form as it does in the final draft.

I showed this early draft to my friends and most disliked it. My girlfriend at the time told me Cely sounded like an edgy 13-year-old boy, while my neuroscientist friend whose aspirational idol is Bondrewd from Made in Abyss wanted to know more about the oblique hints of a cult, finding everything else boring. Another friend said it was stupid that there were 30 seconds between turns during the battle and that the Pokémon should just go at each other; nobody would actually want to watch a battle that was paced so slowly. (I vehemently disagreed with that take. Basically every popular sport balances between slow-paced moments of strategy and fast-paced moments of action and execution.) Some people I showed it to did enjoy it, though. Gazemaize, the author of Chili and the Chocolate Factory, was especially enamored by the Brittany/Gardevoir reveal and the Bud Light Analyst Desk, and implored me to keep both of those elements at all costs. 7th, one of my friends who helped me with the Showdown stuff, was so into it she drew fan art of all the characters (which I've posted before) and also wrote eight pornographic short stories about them.

I rewrote the same opening scene several times across October and November, though these were minor iterations without significant adjustments. Frustrated with the lack of progress, I decided to take a break from writing to simply think about the story for a few months.

During this time, to fix Aracely's edgy 13-year-old voice, I decided to lean into her being from Pokémon Los Angeles (with her native region, Visia, being a play on "visual" as a reference to Hollywood) and gave her a Valley Girl accent. To prepare for this, I listened to hours and hours of ASMR videos of people speaking like Valley Girls and took notes on their inflection and syntax. It was here where I decided on Aracely's underlining quirk, as a way of capturing the unique style of emphasis Valley Girls used.

This also made me realize I needed to adjust Aracely's personality. Despite the tone of her voice, she was still acting antisocially. She didn't want to talk to her father, she didn't want to talk to Lachlan Nguyen, she didn't even really want to talk to Toril. Toril herself was a lump of coal. My own misanthropy kept leaking into the characters, even when I conceptually didn't want them to have it. I thought back to Cleveland Quixotic, and how what made the Jay and Viviendre romance work was that they actually both liked each other, and figured—even though I didn't have explicitly romantic plans for Aracely and Toril—that I needed to do something similar to make their rivalry truly pop. Rather than avoid people, Aracely would lean into talking to them, even if they were annoying. Although Toril remained frigid, there would be a part of her yearning for emotional contact, a way to coax her out of her shell.

I also thought deeply about the structure of my stories in general, and my inability to come up with good hooks. It was around this time that someone I knew was reading Chicago. They pointed out that the plot of Chicago doesn't really start until Chapter 26; that I was "burying the lede." I considered this. My logic, when writing Chicago, was that the Empire moving to take over Washington would be a twist, something that would shock and excite people and change their perception of the entire story.

But did that make sense, when really the story was "about" that twist? Didn't that just make everything before the twist harder to get into for a reader? Chicago might look radically different if I revealed the Empire's goals immediately, but it would also probably be a more immediately engaging work. I'm a big fan of delayed gratification in storytelling, but had I taken it too far?

This was a major revelation for me, and immediately I understood what I needed to do for my Pokémon story: move up the cult plotline. Place it front and center. Name the whole story after it even. I decided on framing the opening scene from Toril's perspective, depicting Aracely initially more as an alien other, emphasizing the fact that she was in a cult rather than hide it behind foreshadowing. This could also lead to Aracely and Toril having more of a dual protagonist setup, which would make my planned two-half finale (one half where Aracely battled "the man who always wins," one half where Toril got involved in stopping the cult's doomsday plot) work even better.

Confidence resurged. At the end of January 2024, my girlfriend of seven years and I broke up. A few days later, I started writing the sixth—and ultimately final—draft of When I Win the World Ends.

VIII. When I Win the World Ends

Now it's the part of the Making Of where I actually make the thing I'm supposed to be making, but there's a lot less to say about it. Once I have a plan, the actual writing of the story is the easy part, and most of what I wrote—with a few exceptions—looks similar to the story as it exists now.

There were some oddities. I wrote the first seven chapters (everything up to the end of the Jinjiao battle) and then had to take a two week break to write a short piece for a writing contest I had entered in December as part of an effort to stop overthinking WIW. After this interruption, I returned to WIW writing perhaps a bit more perfunctorily than I usually would, leading to an original version of Chapter 8 (the chapter where MOTHER makes her first real appearance) that was short and abbreviated. Later, in editing, I would rewrite most of this chapter.

A few ideas emerged while writing, like the motif of serendipity/Logos, which I felt tied nicely to the ideas of evolution and history. It was also in this draft that I introduced Cely's friends Haydn and Charlie, as a nod to an earlier work of mine also featuring a fashion-obsessed girl from Los Angeles. (Speaking of nods to earlier works, in the original 32-man bracket, Cole Coulter featured as one of the competitors, but he didn't make the 16-man cut.)

The process went smoothly. I finished the draft at the end of May, a little under four months after I started it. I had envisioned the full story as being about 70,000 words, but the draft ended up closer to 115,000. Underestimating story length is just an essential element of the trade, though.

A few days after finishing the draft I went on a four-day Oklahoma Darkness Retreat where I had access to zero electronics. The goal was to think about my story deeply and how it could be improved in the editing process.

In this time chamber, where I did nothing except complete crossword puzzles and read The Recognitions by William Gaddis, I came to a realization. There was one element the story needed that wasn't already there.

That element was Sabrina. In the original draft, Sabrina was not present during the scene where Aracely meets the Old Man. She was mentioned obliquely a couple of times in conjunction with Aracely's "psychic powers," but it never really built to anything. There was still a scene where Aracely was interrogated due to her relationship with MOTHER, but only by nameless goons, and the scene lacked tension as it was clear Aracely could talk circles around them.

When I returned from Oklahoma, I prepared for my conception of Sabrina as a character by writing an 8,000 word short story from her perspective, which hashed out an entire backstory for her. Then, I started editing the draft.

For me, a lot of editing is just polish. Usually, cutting out needless sentences and fixing clunky ones, as well as emphasizing a few of the more understated themes and motifs. For instance, during editing, I made slight additions to emphasize the thematic connection between Aracely's suicide attempt and the global war that almost destroyed the world, as well as the connection between the moon and cyclical insanity (lunacy, etymologically, being related to the moon). I made the Old Man more of a Walt Disney-esque figure (from my notes: "a dying Disney"), rewriting much of his dialogue to either be direct quotes or to evoke his ideals. I also expanded on several of the scenes where Toril and Aracely interact to make their relationship more complex and nuanced. I gave MOTHER some new dialogue, including her speech in Chapter 18 about loving a child for the potential it promises, while also paradoxically wanting it to remain a child forever.

The largest changes were in the three chapters I almost fully rewrote. The first was Chapter 8, which as I mentioned earlier was overly terse. In the original draft, it depicted MOTHER as more pathetic, more dependent on Aracely. I decided to make her a more threatening figure, and incorporated a few references to the Moloch sacrifice scene from Valle Verde to make her seem more like a false idol. Similarly, I rewrote Chapter 12, which was originally a very short chapter that focused solely on a conversation between MOTHER and Nilufer that ended with the order to kidnap Aracely. In rewriting the chapter to include Fiorella, I gave myself more opportunity to flesh out the respective philosophies of her and MOTHER (including some of the story's most salient discussions about why cults exist), as well as give more of an insight into the inner workings of RISE as an organization. And lastly, I fully rewrote Chapter 19 to include Sabrina.

The last changes I made in editing were to the final chapter. When I finished the final draft of the story, I sent it to several readers, many of whom had looked at the original drafts of the first chapter, as well as julirites, the author of a Fargo fan fiction called London. There was an immediate and minor backlash to the final chapter, which was originally much more pessimistic, from most people who read it. In the original version, Aracely and Toril were not still in communication. (Fiorella was also dying of cancer instead of jockeying to replace the Old Man.) The finale had a much more somber, sedate, tragic note. Juli and 7th disliked this sad ending, while Gazemaize wanted me to cut the final chapter altogether. I felt confident that the final chapter was necessary, though, and revised it to its current version, which was much better liked.

And then... the story was finished, near the end of July. I crunched the numbers and realized that if I posted two chapters to start and then did a twice-weekly posting schedule, I could end the story serendipitously on October 12. So I did.

IX. Names and Special Thanks

In my Making Of post for Cleveland Quixotic, I had a fairly extensive list of where I got all the character and place names from. The list is a lot less extensive here; most names I constructed for the purpose of sounding evocative, rather than taking them from someplace specific. For instance, I chose the name Aracely Sosa because it sounds like whistling with its repeated S sounds, compared to Toril Lund which is a lot harsher with its consonants. You can see a similar rationale behind names like Fiorella Fiorina, Yui Matsui, and even some of the background characters, like Jacq Ray Johnson, Jr., where there is a lot of emphasis on alliteration and rhyme.

There are a couple of exceptions. Jinjiao is the in-game ID of a longtime Chinese League of Legends pro of middling notability. He picked the name (which means "Golden Horn") as a reference to the Golden Horned King, a villain from Journey to the West.

Lutz, Fiorella's cameraman, was named after an extremely minor character from Fire Emblem: Path of Radiance, who is not playable and only appears in a singular cutscene before being killed. They are so irrelevant that despite naming a character after them, I actually forgot their name, which is Lotz, not Lutz.

Haydn is named after the famous classical composer.

Special thanks to 7th and Elick320 for helping me with the teams and battles. Thanks to Gazemaize and julirites, among others unnamed, for reading and providing feedback. And thank you all for enjoying the story.

#when i win the world ends #wiw #bavitz #the making of #writing #pokemon #fanfic #fan fiction #league of legends #faker #the electric tale of pikachu #Youtube

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