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yumecel · 1 month ago

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Closer to God ❤️

yandere wriothesley / reader | 3k words

summary: the duke finds himself fascinated with you. to an almost unhealthy degree. scratch that, it is unhealthy. but in the underground world of vitamin D deficiencies, questionable mystery meats, and near-agoraphobia towards the overworld, does the “health” of one’s desires really matter so much?

character specifics: uhhh i think nothing but so heavily written from reader’s perspective that you may not feel his essence is fully Captured

reader specifics: female reader girl/she/wife terms

world specifics: i have no idea how fontaines legal system works and it will show. hinted matchmaker sigewinne but don’t hate her

tws: yandere, non con kissing, stalking

a/n: i could chew through fucking steel right now i am so full of lust and felt possessed to write something to this iconic song despite there being NO ACTUAL SMUT sorry.

i promise i’m 18+, i promise i’m okay with seeing dark content, i know this will haunt me in the world to come should i lie [yes⬇️] [no↩️]

——❤️——

You have been instructed to deliver his tea. The box feels like it’s more valuable than your entire existence, all gold-trimmed edges and swirling designs. That’s probably why it was entrusted into your hands when the usual runners are preoccupied.

Probably.

But it’s the third errand this week, and it seems so unnecessary for you personally to run it. And your sentence will be over in six weeks. And seeing the Duke now only makes your anxiety spike, lest you stumble straight into a crime you wouldn’t even know you were committing and somehow end up extending your sentence.

He’s not like that. Surely not. But you’ve been worrying.

Something in his bone-chilling gaze towards you betrays his casual demeanour. It’s the same something in the forced lingering, the excuses. The ways that he swindles you into staying in his office for an hour or two when you want to leave. Today is no different. One of the teas comes such a long way, you see, all the way from Inazuma, and you must indulge in a cup and let him know your opinion on it. Is it similar to the last one from Liyue? They have different methods of drying out the leaves. Did you drink any of it when you were in the overworld?

You always answer his questions the best you can. It’s easiest when they’re all small talk like this, and you’re not trying to play oblivious at his advances. There’s going to be a further advance soon, you can feel it.

It’s six weeks until the end of your sentence and Wriothesley’s interest in you seems foolish. With a little luck, you’ll never return to the Fortress of Meropide in your life. You did everything right, you deserve to leave, surely?

But you know that Wriothesley is no fool, and that he would not be playing these games so boldly if he was not certain to win.

——❤️——

Eleven months ago, you didn’t make much conversation with anyone in the prison. You did what you always thought you should do in a prison; kept your head down, worked hard, and didn’t associate too intimately with anyone.

Ten months ago, you had started to assume Sigewinne pitied you, or whatever the closest melusine approximation to “pity” was. Somehow designated to running errands for the infirmary, you talked to her more than any of the prisoners. Though you were grateful for her support, you kept displaying the autonomy and dignity that would let her know you were of the composition that didn’t desire company. It wouldn’t fool a melusine as observant as Sigewinne. You knew this. But you persisted, holding onto shreds of pride.

Nine months ago, Sigewinne had managed to get you to open up. You had believed at the time you were contributing to her understanding of human emotions, but now you suspect that she had motives of helping you.

“As for why I don’t really talk to anyone outside of working, well, I�� I’m still processing everything. I feel like people won’t accept what I did, and get the same pushback I felt from people up there and I just… can’t relive that. People that I thought would understand didn’t, and it’s been difficult to recover trust in others.”

Sigewinne’s eyes examined you thoroughly. You maintained a perfectly still expression, under the impression that her observations of your face were for her research.

“Hmm… what if someone was guaranteed to understand you?

You took a little time to think before answering, “I think it would help. But I doubt I would personally pursue someone like that.”

“You wouldn’t?” Sigewinne queried.

“I wouldn’t. And I don’t know where I would find someone who understood.”

“Where indeed…” she whispered, more to herself than you, eyes flitting back to yours. A slight raise of the eyebrows indicated that she had come to a conclusion about something, and you weren’t sure about what. You were just happy to help, and it didn’t occur how deeply you had revealed your emotions until later.

Eight months ago, you had started running errands for Wriothesley. This followed a mixup with your records, where Sigewinne accepted blame for not filing your work hours accurately as your manager. The Duke himself had to personally review your entire record in prison to confirm that there were no inconsistencies. You were a little embarrassed by the whole thing, though Sigewinne insisted she was entirely at fault and deeply sorry. You didn’t blame her as it was an exceedingly rare mistake on her part. If anything, you were a little touched that Sigewinne cared so deeply about this. Also, the apology cake from the overworld certainly washed away any remaining feelings of irritation you held.

Eventually, you found yourself walking into the Duke’s office like Sigewinne had told you to, hands clasped in front of you. “Sigewinne sent me, Your Grace.”

“Oh, (Y/N). Thank you for coming along. I just need you to read some documents and sign them.” He said, motioning to three papers on his desk.

Hearing your name spill from his mouth so casually felt surreal. Nevertheless, you took timid steps forward and examined the documents.

“Sigewinne speaks highly of you, you know.”

Unsure how exactly to respond, you paused for a moment. “I’m glad she does, Your Grace.”

You continued examining the documents, quickly signing the first one off.

“If you wouldn’t mind, I need someone trustworthy to help me hand some medical records to Sigewinne for me. Well, maybe “hand” is an understatement.”

In your peripheral vision, you catch the way he gestures towards some boxes, more than one person could reasonably move at a time.

Ink meets paper on the second document.

“Of course. I’d be more than willing to help.”

“Ah, great. Our head nurse is capable, but I’d just feel bad making her carry these on her own.”

“Yes, I understand.”

“I knew you would.” The Duke says.

Silence hangs in the air. You pull the final document closer towards you to interrupt the unbearable quiet. Eventually, you make the final signature and turn around, moving towards the boxes.

The files look rather haphazardly thrown in, papers sticking out from their respective folders. That’s when the Duke approaches from behind, placing a hand gently on your shoulder. Not expecting the touch, you jump slightly, and then pretend to act like it never happened. He felt it though. He couldn’t have not felt it.

“Also, maybe you could do me another favour and help me sort these before we give them back to her?”

There is nothing else to do other than nod and say, “Of course, Your Grace.”

Eight months ago you learned that the Duke is exceptionally chatty around you. Eight months ago, your work became more divided between his office and Sigewinne’s infirmary.

Seven months ago, you had first divulged information about your crime to the Duke.

“What are you in for?” is a common enough question in the Fortress of Meropide. His Grace has never asked you it, and he wouldn’t need to either. And yet, his speech is peppered with implications about your crime that you can either refute or accept. You had dodged every hidden question artfully, and he would be very blatant about acknowledging this, saying you didn’t have to answer if you didn’t want to. Comforted by this, you had started trusting him.

Seven months ago, you had started trusting Wriothesley, and that had been a mistake.

Of course he already knew your crime. How could he not? A murder in self defence is quite a notable trial in the overworld regardless, and nothing in the underworld slips past Wriothesley.

You may have been a free woman if it was simpler. If the man in that alleyway had been less beloved by his community, if you had not ran away from the crime in fear, if you submitted evidence at the time, if being dragged back to Fontaine was never part of the ordeal. If it hadn’t divided the people around you over whether you should’ve really did it.

If they just understood.

You accepted the sentence nonetheless. Evading the court is a crime in itself, and in that respect you could be considered a prolific criminal.

Sat in his office, you had retold the tale.

Wriothesley understood.

——❤️——

Six months ago, you had entertained the thought of Wriothesley as a fling.

Your heart wanted emotional connection, your brain knew it would be unreasonable to pursue a long term relationship. And your pussy really just liked the idea of him pinning you down and fucking you like an animal.

Some of his little gestures towards you supported this notion. A hand on the small of your back, maybe going a little low, the warmth of his presence behind you. The leering that’d stop when you picked your head up, but you still caught in reflections and out of the corner of your eye. The occasional innuendos. Wriothesley is fairly down-to-earth all the time, but with you, some more primal desires seep through.

But sometimes, it was different. The way he’d sweep hair away from your face. The possessiveness around you when other prisoners- now seemingly assuming you were a member of staff rather than an actual prisoner- talked to you. Always played off as professionalism. And the endless desire to know exactly what you were up to, inside and out.

Noting this, you were a little less reciprocative of his hints, afraid of feelings being hurt. He seemed to accept it. You were friends now. You knew about his crimes, which he had confided to you in private. He knew everything there was to know about yours. You would come to chat over tea. You continued working with Sigewinne, but saw her less. Wriothesley dominated most of your waking moments.

But the possessiveness didn’t stop, and the curiosity was starting to become intrusive.

——❤️——

Four months ago, you had learned that Wriothesley personally went through all of your mail.

All mail of yours was immediately forwarded to his office, where it would be opened and sent back to the mailroom. You had only found this out when you wandered into the mailroom and inquired about the mail, expecting a monthly letter from your family that was a little late.

“Oh, I take it she’s one of your patients? All of that mail gets forwarded to the Duke first. Guess there was a contraband incident or something. Anyway, don’t have it.”

It was information the attendant would have never divulged to you if he realised who you were. You blended in so well as a member of staff that people had started to see you as a nursing attendant before anything else. The clothes you now wore that treaded the line between prisoner and staff member were another layer of this disguise, courtesy of Wriothesley. Now, it was working against him.

Despite how perturbed you were, you managed a, “Oh, thank you for telling me.”, and immediately darted towards Wriothesley’s office, knocking with a shaking hand before you heard him telling you to come in.

“How nice it is to see you on your day off. Take it you missed me?” He said, closing his book and getting up to get another cup. It’s like a routine to him, and one he’s very comfortable doing.

“Well, I do have a reason to be here.”

“Cold. Well, let me pour you a cup, and you can tell me all about it. It’s Chenyu adeptea today.”

After getting seated and engaging in a few pleasantries with him, you pose your question, about if what you heard in the mailroom was really true.

He doesn’t deny it.

With a piercing gaze that doesn’t deviate from yours, he says, “Hm. I didn’t want to worry you at the time, but dangerous contraband came through in a parcel addressed to you a couple months back, and I’ve been going through it ever since.”

A reasonable explanation, you suppose. But why keep it from you this long? Surely he must understand this is a betrayal of your trust?

You remain quiet, still trying to process everything.

“My apologies if your feelings are hurt, but I acted in your best interests. I promise that.”

Your fingers glide along the edge of the teacup. “That’s alright. I shouldn’t have doubted your reasoning.”

You finish the cup of tea over lighter conversation, until just before leaving, you pose one last question.

“Ah, uh, you don’t go through my outgoing mail too, right?”

Wriothesley chuckles dryly with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “There’s no reason to do that, is there?”

You’ve known him too long, been confined in his presence with nothing else to do but observe. His perceptiveness is second to none, but you’ve trained yourself. Dodging the question is suspicious. As you close the door to his office, there is no doubt in your mind that he reads every letter you send.

It didn’t surprise you that the mail attendant you first spoke to seemed to no longer work in the mailroom when you next approached it.

——❤️——

It was difficult to remain amicable after that, but you tried your best. Treading a thin line between not upsetting him (not that he’d ever show it) and not allowing him to encroach further on your personal life, you may as well have been walking on the edge of a knife.

The advances started again. He’s more demanding of your time. Sigewinne simply lets you off work to do whatever he demands. She seems to believe there’s something amusing in all of this, and you don’t dare confide in her about your discomfort around the Duke. You don’t think she’d be playing on your side.

Two months ago, he started getting far too touchy. He wants to be next to you, he finds any excuse to put a hand on you, rub your back, your shoulder, the top of your hand- all gestures of comfort that come across more like domination and marking territory. You don’t feel like you can tell him to stop. He has too much power, and you don’t wish to interfere with it. The reality of who he is seems more imposing than ever, and you steel yourself, trying to remain as professional and inoffensive as possible.

The clock ticks down. Less and less days to the end of your sentence.

——❤️——

Two weeks now remain of your time in the Fortress of Meropide.

“I think you might owe me something for that.” Wriothesley says.

You stare down at the cards scattered across the table, remnants of a finished game that Wriothesley had won. He looks slightly smug about it. It’s only been a few rounds, too. He’s often happy to play many more.

“Like what?”

“Something I’ve always wanted.”

You look up at him, seeing his hand beckon you closer. You get up slowly, carefully stepping around the table. He pats the sofa beside him and the world around you starts to feel dreamlike as you sit down.

His hand touches just under your chin, thumb stroking your jaw, before reaching up steadily to your lips. You know what comes next, and shut your eyes as his lips eventually meet yours. Obediently, you kiss back until he pulls away. When your eyes meet, you immediately look down, observing how his hand was now on your thigh, touching lightly.

You gasp as he squeezes, feeling his gaze remain on you. “I… I’m not sure if we should be doing this. I’m l-leaving soon, and I don’t want anyone’s feelings to get hurt.”

“Leaving to where?”

Your blood runs a little cold then, but you steady yourself. “The overworld.”

“You don’t have to.”

Making an earnest attempt to get him to sympathise with you, to understand like he always has, you place your own hand on top of his. “I think I do. I’ve served my sentence with the intention of getting out of this place. I need to go back up. Reintegrate before I forget how.”

Wriothesley doesn’t understand.

When you look up, he’s now looking right through you, into space, into nothingness. “I guess you’re not going to make this easy.”

“I don’t understand what you mean.” You say, roughly swallowing. Against your will, you do understand. You always do.

“We’re made for each other. Circumstance is a powerful thing, (Y/N). If it wasn’t for circumstance, you wouldn’t be in jail. You wouldn’t be like me. I wouldn’t be here either. Two people, who can perfectly understand each other, in the same place. But I suppose you don’t think that’s something worth pursuing?”

“I can’t be here forever.” You reply definitively.

“Don’t exaggerate things, now. I do go up to Fontaine every now and then, you know.”

“You know what I mean.”

Wriothesley sighs.

“I guess I can have your sentence extended. I didn’t want to play that card, but…”

“I- I’ll report you to any authority that will listen!” You exclaim, retracting away from him in horror.

“And it’ll be your word against mine. Wonder how that would work out.” He states, as if he was simply pondering the results of the card game.

Tears have started falling from your eyes. A wave of nausea rolls over your entire body as a thumb gently swipes over your cheeks. You’re utterly stunned and lost for words, slowly collapsing into yourself. Wriothesley takes the opportunity to inch closer and wrap his arms around you, letting you freely sob into his shoulder. There is nothing else to do. His arms are like a prison, and his hot breath is tickling against your ear.

“You’ll understand in time. For now, let’s calm down and maybe we can start preparing for your permanent residence, huh?”

As another sob emerges, his hand rubs your back with overwhelming tenderness.

#yandere #yandere wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #yandere genshin impact

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