#my dear Marquis | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

deunmiu-dessie · 5 months ago

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ⅺ▬ ⁽ 𝓋𝒶𝓂𝓅𝒾𝓇𝑒⁾ ¹

part two

𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 ♡︎ : ₅˖₈ₖ ˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡

𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ♡︎ : slightly edited, talk of past sexual assault ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎

૮ ˙Ⱉ˙ ა ʳᵃʷʳ ⁿᵒᵗᵉˢ : i had to split this into two parts! it’s giving very much manhwa vibes!

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 ♡︎ : your elder half-sister is to be married to the mysterious and supposed tyrannical duke kallisto de ardelean, on word of the emperor. with your sister no longer having her chastity and being scared to lose his daughter, your father, marquis bastian, and your elder half-brother, tommen devise a plan to send you in her stead.

꒰m!vampire₊⊹ afab!reader꒱

the sound of cutlery grating against one another makes anxiety coil taut within your belly, the emotion mischievously swimming its way upwards to form a burning mordant taste within the base of your throat; bile threatening to ascend and expel from your mouth. your nerves are strung tight like a bow, bending, pulling, hurting- waiting to be disentangled from its stretch; but to no avail. the persistent, uneasy ache pulsing through your veins causes your head to throb and pound uncomfortably - the onset of a migraine looming.

the clinking of silverware becomes a symphony of discomfort, each scrape, and clatter adding to the cacophony that fills the room. it becomes increasingly difficult to focus on anything else, as the unease consumes your thoughts and senses. the atmosphere feels suffocating, as if the tension in the air is tangible.

you find yourself longing for a moment of respite, a break from the relentless discomfort. but it eludes you, leaving you trapped in this sea of unease. the storm within you rages on, its intensity growing with each passing second.

'when will this be over?' you muse sourly, stumbling to hold in a huff of frustration and discomfort; the stinging, scalding gazes of your siblings and attendants are alight with contempt and taunting humor- directed at you. the sensation sends a chill skittering down your backbone, a chill so frigid that goosebumps begin to blanket your skin like a fresh layer of december frost; intricate and icy.

as you sit there, the weight of their judgment bears down on you, pressing against your chest and making it difficult to breathe. the room seemed to close around you, the walls closing in like a vise, trapping you in a suffocating bubble of scrutiny. the air is heavy with tension, each second ticking by like an eternity, as if time itself had slowed down to magnify your discomfort.

and you find that removing your eyes from the bowl of lukewarm soup in front of you to meet their disdainful faces, was nigh impossible. unthinkable. so instead you remain fixated on the porcelain dish, undisturbed by the tiny grains of sand scattered at the bottom, swirling lazily in the stew.

'this again?' you ponder silently, before being startled by the tinkling laughter that fills the room.

for a fleeting moment, your gaze flickers upward to scan the dining hall at the soft, girlish snickering; finding the venomous eyes of your elder sister staring right back at you. your glossy eyes quickly find solace in the sandy, savory depths of the bowl of soup below you once more. your fingers weaving jointly underneath the table, nails turning pale as the vice grip of your extremities coil, trying to strangle one another. you felt like a rat trapped within a burning bucket with nowhere to go, fated to die-but how badly you wanted to gnaw your way out to freedom.

"oh my, dear sister, you've hardly touched your food."

your back molars clench against the tender flesh of your cheek at the attention, your body cowering back into the delicate velvet chair underneath you, praying to be devoured whole. with trembling hands, you nervously rub your dewy palms against the faded blue fabric of your dress, causing it to darken with the touch of moisture. it was as if your very nerves had been set ablaze as you could now feel the disconcerting stare of your father branding the side of your cheek.

your soft but prevalent ebbeton accent cuts through the tense atmosphere like a sharpened blade, the gazes of the room bleeding into your skin.

"i find myself lacking an appetite this evening," you emit softly, offering a forced smile to your elder sister in an attempt to pacify her. you’re not surprised when aerith’s thin upper lip curls into a snarl, downturned eyes narrowing and eyebrows furrowing. anything that you did; that defied her orders, usually triggered aerith to taunt and beat you. there was no winning when it came to the girl, you had figured that out when you were just a child.

not expecting your reply, aerith’s narrow upper lip curls into a vexed snarl, downturned eyes tightening and eyebrows drawing near to each other. 'who the hell does she think she is?' a forced, cruel smile encases aerith’s mouth, golden spirals of silken hair dancing over her shoulders as she slants her head in an opposing manner. the blonde is only aggravated further at your curt, almost blank expression. "it'd be a waste for you to not at least take a bite, don't you think?"

she leaned in closer, her eyes boring into yours, daring you to defy her. the room seemed to grow colder, the atmosphere heavy with tension. aerith knew that she had the upper hand, that she had the ability to make your already hellish life, worse. and she reveled in it. the power she possessed, the control she exerted over others, was intoxicating. she was not one to be underestimated, and she made sure you knew it.

the intense thrumming of your fearful heart reverberates throughout your body, anxiety substituting the boiling blood surging through your veins. you swallow the orb of tension that's wedged its way into your throat and dig your almond-shaped nails into your thighs, a flimsy smile painted onto your lips. "i simply do not feel hungry tonight, sister," you reply calmly, though your heart pounds in your ears. "surely that is not a crime."

your sister's eyes narrow, her fury evident in the furrowed lines on her forehead. you can almost taste the outrage, mingling with the metallic tang of fear on your tongue.

"(y/n)."

you flinch back into your seat at the boisterous sound of your father's voice, a cold sweat beginning to form on your brow, shakily you pick up the rickety spoon, a far cry from the elegant silverware adorning the table. with trembling hands, you cautiously dip the spoon into the soup, the loose pieces of sand giggling at your misery. slowly the spoon ascends to your lips- before three sharp knocks echo throughout the dining hall. every malicious, joyously cruel gaze, flits to the door. your father, never one to be unnerved, dabs at his lips with his napkin and clears his throat. "enter."

the heavy oak doors are gradually pulled open by two knights who stand guard at opposing ends. the assailant quickly waltzes into the room, his face, pale and drawn, betrays the weight of his duty. beads of sweat trickle down his forehead, glistening like tiny diamonds in the candlelight. his disheveled attire, once pristine and regal, now hangs loosely on his frame, evidence of the tumultuous journey he has endured to reach this moment. settled upon his spindly hand is a slender silver tray, which carries a letter.

“-and what is the cause for you interrupting the household dinner, boy? "

the man choked back a shuddering breath and with a graceful yet urgent stride, he approaches the grand mahogany table at the center of the room, halting just in front of your father, lowering into a ninety-degree bow and thrusting the salver forward.

"a letter from the imperial palace..." the boy's tentative voice trails off for a moment, hesitant to declare the rest of the announcement. your father observed the scene with a stoic expression, his piercing gaze fixed upon the man before him, before he rolls his eyes, picking up his utensils once more. "well? out with it then.”

“- it's closed with the emperor's seal, my lord.”

all respire within the room seemed to come to a standstill, the birds did not dare to chirp and the wind was not brave enough to howl. the silence in the room was deafening, broken only by the faint sound of your father's labored breaths. as the seconds ticked by, the room seems to hold its breath, waiting for marquis bastian to break the silence. finally, your father gently places his utensils aside and swiftly grasps the letter, his fingers trembling with a mixture of anticipation and unease. clearly, some things could unnerve marquis bastian, you thought, as you surreptitiously returned the spoon to its rightful place upon the table.

popping the seal, your father glides the letter from the envelope delicately, unfurling the piece of paper to allow his eyes to glaze over the contents. yet, with each passing second his eyelids draw back to showcase the whites of his eyes, his fingers digging into the paper with a mix of shock, disbelief, or perhaps even anger. you can't quite discern his emotions. your father, marquis bastian, was a man known for his unwavering composure and unshakeable resolve. his presence alone commanded respect and admiration, and it was a rare sight indeed to witness him unsettled.

his usually stoic face contorted with a myriad of emotions, his brows furrowing and his lips trembling ever so slightly. the room seemed to grow colder, as if the air itself was affected by his sudden unease. you watched in silence, your heart pounding in your chest, as your father's grip on the letter tightened, his knuckles turning white. the seconds stretched into minutes, and still, your father remained frozen in his chair, his eyes fixed on the damning words before him.

tommen, your eldest brother, swallows thickly at father's silence, the hairs on the back of his neck at attention and his leg bouncing nervously underneath the table. "father, what ails you?" marquis bastian was distraught, so much so in fact, that he ran a wrinkling hand down his face, head falling into his open palm. the patriarch of the house clears his throat and sets the paper back onto the tray.

"a-aerith. your engagement has been decided by the emperor."

tommen's heart sinks at his father's words. your elder sister, forever the oblivious blonde; and incapable of reading the room, beams happily and clasps her hands together, head tilting to the side with a whimsical, distant gaze in her eyes. "oh! who is it, daddy? a duke? a marquis?—" the girl trails off with a gasp and places a soft, small hand over her mouth, her cheeks turning a rosy pink. "could it be the prince?! oh, daddy, say something! who is it?!"

tommen's eyes follow his father's every movement, his own anxiety growing with each passing second. he watches as his father clears his throat, a sign of his struggle to find the right words. your father, still in dismay, doesn't even attempt to soothe aerith as he breaks the news to her, his gaze empty, like a vast, swarthy sea of water without end.

"duke kallisto de ardelean."

you watch in confusion as her smile slowly fades, her pretty, sparkling jade eyes seem to dull, the vibrant hue that once adorned her rosy cheeks now fades away, leaving behind a pallid complexion that betrays the absence of her usual vivacity.

the blonde's daze is shattered in an instant as she forcefully pushes herself away from the table, her hands crashing down on the sturdy oak surface, her nails leaving marks. "no! i won't do it, you cannot make me!" your father's lips are set into a thin line and despite aerith looking to him for answers, for hope that only his words can bring, his expression is unreadable; and for a moment, something dark and enraged unfurls within the blonde's stomach, threatening to consume her.

"daddy? say something!"

tommen, always the mediator, attempts to smooth over the situation. "aerith, sit, let father think for a moment— hm?" your eldest brother can't help but add an encouraging whirr at the end of his demand after seeing his sister's frightened gaze; a sight that tugs at his heart agonizingly. aerith reluctantly tumbles into her chair, reddened cheeks cushioned by clammy palms; her nails digging into her scalp worriedly. "brother, do something."

tommen's jaw ticked in annoyance- frustration. there was no way aerith would survive at duke ardelean's home, particularly because of her licentious behavior and absence of subordination. with aerith's lack of chastity, she was nothing but used, damaged goods— not even a puppet to be utilized. ( she would've been better off marrying a count, someone she could manipulate and break faith with. ) sending her off to kallisto would do nothing but insult the ardelean household and bring disgrace to their family for generations to come.

tommen's love for his sister was undeniable, and he couldn't bear to see her endure humiliation or worse. he refused to stand idly by and witness the downfall of his family, the destruction of everything they had worked so hard to build.

slight motion from his peripheral causes tommen's head to turn slightly in its direction, catching sight of your dingy garments and absence of etiquette. ‘ah, the bastard.' he thought to himself. watching as your back straightens immediately when his viridian-colored gaze flits to your slouched figure. there is a bottomless sea of revulsion whirling like a hurricane within its depths and you grip your right arm tightly, nails digging into your flesh; scarring it with crescent moons, a desperate attempt to maintain composure, to keep yourself afloat in the face of his disdain.

but despite your best efforts- you seemed to drown. the contempt in tommen's eyes remained unwavering. his judgment was etched into his features, a constant reminder of the vast chasm that separated you. in that moment, you were acutely aware of your place in his world, forever relegated to the outskirts, forever branded as the outsider.

"father, if I may?"

marquis bastian looks toward his son, lips thinned and face weary. he was without a doubt, lost on what to do the thought of losing his little girl to such a man, made his stomach churn and ache.

tommen drags his gaze away from you and locks eyes with marquis bastian; he's tentative, uncertain if the solution that he's come to would assuage his father. but, he takes a deep breath and explains.

"aerith has been out of high society for years now, after the incident with count aslan's daughter, and there were only a few witnesses at the happening.” tommen begins gradually, making sure that his father is mindful of every little detail. "truly-she's not even talked about within social circles anymore."

your father grunts in agreement, shooting a scalding gaze at his immature (but loveable) daughter at the reminder of the mishap. the blonde's pout deepens and she crosses her arms over her chest in childish defiance.

“duke kallisto has never gone to any social gatherings before and he's been away at the northern border for about the same period, perhaps even longer, with his eldest son joining him only a couple of months ago. he would have no idea who aerith is." marquis bastian's eyebrows furrow deeply, producing wrinkles in-between his thick, graying brows.

tommen watches as the cogs turns in his father's head. “'it's official only on paper and since duke kallisto has never come to any social setting and no one knows what he looks like, i doubt there will be a public wedding, especially since he's currently at the northern border leading the knights."

marquis bastian's eyes widen and he finds his son's viridian gaze. “are you saying—” tommen nods quickly, leaning back in his seat. “if we send the bastard, they'd be none the wiser."

all eyes narrow on you, calculating and cold, it raises goosebumps on your skin, hinders your breath, and makes you break out in a cold sweat.

a small voice inside you yearned to protest, to expose the sheer madness of their 'scheme', warning that it would only lead to the gruesome demise of the entire family for treason. but, what right did you have to speak? you were nothing but a bastard, a child conceived out of unwilling sex, brought into this world by a maid who was promptly cast aside the moment you took your first breath.

you were raised in the shadows, hidden away from the prying eyes of society, forced to serve the family that had abandoned you. your existence was a constant reminder of their shame, a living testament to their sins. and yet, despite the cruelty and neglect you endured, a flicker of defiance burned within you. but fear held you back. fear of retribution, of being cast out into the cold, unforgiving world. fear of the unknown, of what lay beyond the walls of the only home you had ever known.

you were a mere puppet, a marionette manipulated by the hands of those who saw you as nothing more than a means to an end. your existence was reduced to a tool, easily discarded when it no longer served its purpose. it was a fitting fate, since commoner blood surged through your veins. you were forever destined to be overlooked and discarded.

lips thinning you watch as your fathers face flushes with the color he lost while reading the letter, no longer tense as he nods his head in agreement with tommen. he lets out a deep hum before locking eyes with his son. “that might just work.” marquis bastian absently strokes his beard before giving a decisive nod. “we’ll have to start the process quickly. with how she is now…” he trails off prompting you to hastily blink back the tears that threaten to spill down your cheeks.

“hajorld, send a letter to madame kilsby.”

all eyes fix upon aerith as she emits a disbelieving whimper. “daddy! that’s not fair, you promised that madame kilsby would teach me! you swore,” her voice, sharp and grating, causes marquis bastian’s face to pinch into one of anger. “had you not spread your legs like some common whore, aerith, i would not be forced to take this action."

aerith's heart sank at her father's accusing words. she had been looking forward to learning from madame kilsby for months, only to have her hopes dashed in an instant. the disappointment was palpable in the air as she struggled to hold back tears, her rose-tinted lips pressing together as she slumps back in her seat. your father sighs deeply and picks back up his cutlery. “may the gods have mercy on us."

"chin up!"

you wince softly at the abrupt pain that blooms bitterly across your calf, the skin puckering and swollen from the harsh, periodic whipping of madame kilsby. stiffly your chin lifts upwards. the heavy books that make a home on the top of your head for the time being, quiver- as if they are walking bare within the frigid december air; waiting to topple.

her aging hand presses deftly into your lower back, fixing your posture once more with a soft hum, assessing, watching. she observes as you prance forward, wobbly within your heels but nonetheless ideal, given the time frame in which your lessons had begun.

"to me."

as gracefully as you can, you turn to face madame kilsby in all her beautiful glory and for the second time this lesson, your breath catches briefly in your throat. you gaze at her shamelessly, taking in her red tresses, which like a dancing flame, curl atop her head; her green eyes, the color of luscious green forests, are deep, enchanting, and dangerous.

the smell of her perfume is sweet (but not too much so) and floral, with just a whiff of spice she is a woman to behold, and you do so often. with a barely-there breath, you walk back towards her, feet aching within the shoes given to you. if your form is off, it doesn't show on her face. you come to a stop in front of madame kilsby and she locks gazes with you, the corners of her mouth curl up, she's pleased— it makes her all the more inviting.

"good y/n, i'm impressed."

an apprehensive smile caresses your lips, brightening your typical apathetic beauty, and madame kilsby, finds you charming even more so. the older woman clears her throat softly and gently removes the hefty books from the top of your head, setting them onto the table next to her with a thump.etiquette and most other teachings usually are taught to children at a young age; that way it evolves almost into a second nature for them. since you were born out of wedlock and worst of all to a maid, a woman of no noble origin- you had been cast aside, as there was no need for a bastard to learn anything.

madame kilsby had been reluctant to teach you, the first couple of days you could perceive her ridicule, her apprehension. yet, just as quickly as it came, it went, the hostility, the backhanded compliments, every scornful thing she had done while teaching you the first three days, seemed irrelevant.

you, she concluded, are her most promising student. you heed her words, obey, and watch diligently. you emulate, take, and evolve her teachings to fit your technique. your unwavering, confident blank gaze and features add to the feminine, mysterious ambiance that seems to encompass you. seeing you take shape had been breathtaking for madame kilsby.

she had never seen such rapid progress in a student before, especially one who had been deemed unworthy of her teachings. your determination and quick wit impressed her, and she found herself looking forward to each lesson with you.

"there is nothing left for me to teach you now. as you've soaked up every bit of knowledge that i could provide. and beautifully so." the curvature of your lips pull downward, and madame kilsby watches as your features return back to their typical apathetic look.

'i have two days left before being shipped off to duke ardelean's home.’ you think sourly,briefly escaping your anxious musings to offer a distracted smile towards madame kilsby. "thank you, truly."

the woman inclines her head and gently rests a hand upon your cheek. "let me know if there's anything i can do for you, child, if it's within my power to do so, it will be done."

'would it be wrong to ask her to stab me with a knife? probably.' and just like that, in two days, you would be shipped off to your death.

two days later

the ride to the ardelean estate is hell on wheels, you believe. your body is sore from your unduly tense posture, and your bum aches continually at every hobble and wobble of the carriage, it doesn't help that the corset that you had been forced into (and not delicately either) makes it all the harder to draw breath.

the carriage had been riding all day to get to the estate on time, a staggering eleven-hour ride- where you most definitely couldn't get any rest even if you had tried. it feels like an eternity before the carriage pulls to a stop.

"my lady, we're here."

your nerves are scorched, set ablaze with fear and unease and it engulfs your body in a flame so searing that you find yourself airing your face. the door opens slowly and you swallow down the squeal of dread that tries to claw its way out of your throat, you place your hands comfortably on your lap, back straightening despite the sting of pain it brings and face blanking.

a large palm facing upwards comes into your peripheral and you place your own gloved hand into it, stepping out of the carriage door, on a stepping stool, and finally onto the gravel. your eyes adjust to the brightness of outside before the estate comes into focus, and it's enormous, your breath catches in your throat at the sight of it. the structure is beautiful in its own haunted way.

"welcome to the ardelean estate, lady fureio."

the monotonous chorus of voices surprises you, your body jolting softly, it leaves your heart to thump laboriously in your chest; eyes finally narrowing in on the attendants of the estate, the head maid and butler stand front and center, eyes cordial and seemingly all-knowing.

your smile is small, reluctant— yet warm nonetheless, you tip your head downwards in greeting, swallowing thickly, palms beginning to moisten and skin warming at your nervousness. "thank you."

a smile brightens the head maids face, her plump but sagging cheeks flushing a soft, lovely hue of red. "my name is esmerelda, i will escort you inside my lady, to get you settled in." she watches with rapt attention as you exhale shakily, nodding, "that would be great esmerelda, thank you."

her countenance swiftly adopts a stern expression as she directs her attention to the two knights positioned behind her. if they have a problem with carrying your luggage, it remains imperceptible upon their visage. without hesitation, they proceed to retrieve your possessions from the rear of the carriage and carefully carry them into the grand estate ahead, their armor clanking softly with each step.

you don't own many thing, only a few dresses (which weren't much to look at) a singular pair of worn shoes, and a couple of hairpieces that were fraying at their ends. while marquis bastian had paid for your etiquette lessons and other teachings— he was adamant about not spending much else after that. which was quite foolish of him now that you thought back to it.

the woman watches them intently, her eyes sharp. as the knights disappear into the castle, the woman turns back to you with a slight nod of approval. "they will ensure your belongings are safely stored in your chambers," she says, her voice firm but not unkind.

you offer a gentle smile and a slight nod, gracefully aligning yourself with her stride as she beckons you to accompany her into the estate. she trails in front of you slightly, as you two walk past the maids stationed outside for your welcoming.

"where is the little lord?"

"i couldn't find him this morning."

"young master calix skipped sword training as well."

esmerelda's stern gaze quickly has them hushed, their chins tucking against their chests pitifully, your lips purse softly as you comb through your head for lost details on the ardelean household, following slowly behind esmerelda.

kallisto de ardelean is a father to three boys, the eldest son: azur, who recently turned seventeen, joined kallisto a couple of months back at the frontier to help with the north's demon subjugation. he, along with kallisto, wouldn't be home for a while.

atreyu, kallisto's fifteen-year-old middle child is learning at the academy and finishing up his second year. and because winter is coming, atreyu's company would be expected in a couple of weeks from now.

you pause momentarily in your thoughts. not much is known about kallosto's last son, as he is too young to participate in any social gatherings, and too young for the academy, not even his name is known, well, you supposed now that you knew it.

calix de ardelean.

"it's been a long ride has it not? shall i have a bath drawn for you?"

you were exhausted, eyes laden, and breath slightly shallow from the ill-fitting corset that adorned your figure. you wanted to sleep, needed it even; yet the prospect of a warm bath followed by donning a comfortable nightgown seemed even more appealing.

“that’d be perfect esmerelda, thank you.” you can hear the smile in her voice as she responds back to you. “of course, my lady.”

the two of you make your way through a corridor after a long trek up a flight of stairs, it’s adorned with paintings. they're eerie yet exquisite; gloomy and desolate. the paintings seem to come alive as you walk past them, their eyes following your every move. the brushstrokes are so vivid and lifelike that you can almost feel the emotions emanating from the canvas. it's as if the artists poured their souls into each piece, leaving a lingering presence that sends shivers down your spine. the colors are so vibrant and the details so intricate that it's hard to believe they were created by mere human hands.

however, one catches your gaze, steals your breath away even— as if time stands still as you lock eyes with the portrait.

“who is he?”

your mouth opens before you can dissuade yourself and esmerelda turns to face you, watching as you shamelessly gaze deeply at the painting, lips parted and almost breathless. you're not sure how the painter is able to capture the aura that surrounds the man perfectly— but they do and it's monarchial... terrifying.

his tresses are long and ebony; framing his face delicately, his lips are ruby in color- inviting; and his skin is pale as porcelain. the man's eyes are the color of freshly spilled blood, they gleam with an all-knowingness that warms your skin and strips you bare. you find it almost impossible to drag your gaze away from the painting, he's quite literally the most beautiful man you have ever seen.

"that is duke kallisto, my lady."

you whip around to face her, eyebrows furrowing and heart thumping desperately within your chest, nearly pounding out of your ribcage, your ebbeton accent thickens as you speak, a look of clear disbelief in your eyes. "truly?" when she nods in confirmation you step forward and touch the portraits golden frame, trailing your fingers lower to trace over the cursive letters of duke kallisto's name. realizing how peculiar you must look, you quickly pull your hand to your chest; face warming in embarrassment.

“shall we get going?”

ardelean estate

the next day

calix de ardelean was a curious child.

his transgressions usually got him into trouble with his father more times than headmaid esmerelda had been able to count on both hands— though, that never truthfully seemed to stop calix, not for long anyway, especially since kallisto is reminded often of his late wife whenever he sees that playful glint within calix's ruby-red eyes, and folds almost immediately.

sometimes calix's childlike antics were simply disregarded by kallisto because the boy was just a child. a child who had never gotten to meet his mother, a child who lacked the maternal love that his elder siblings grew up with. kallisto could not be irate with his baby boy, no matter what he did.

so it’s not surprising that calix is currently skipping sword practice. not that he despised it in any way, truly it was his favorite thing as it helped past time as he waited for his father to come back from the northern borders.

he hadn't been told about the marriage, only deduced it after catching wind of the rumors from the maids. he was curious, perhaps even a bit scared, he didn't like change. he would chase her out no matter what, before his father could come home.

now, to search for the woman who infiltrated his h-

"ahem, young master calix- enough of these childish games."

the boy jumps, startled by sir. fjord's deep timbre. without a word, calix quickly takes off down the hallway with a bellowing, tinkering laugh. his cheeks are flushed the cutest shade of red and his obsidian hair is ruffled at the top of his head.

glancing over his shoulder to look for the man, calix rounds a corner and immediately bumps into a soft, thick fabric, that sends him crashing butt-first to the carpeted flooring, hands burning. the boy whines softly and pouts, gazing up and up until he locks eyes with a woman.

pretty.

with a worried frown, the woman lowers down in front of him, she smells of honey sickle and sugared lavender and it has warmth unfurling languidly within his tummy, turning him to mush underneath her soft, amused gaze.

"you must be calix." he nods slowly, unable to look away from her observant- filled eyes, she smiles brightly, it's welcoming and genuine. "my name is aerith fureio."

her fuller lips pull downward as she notices the redness that envelopes calix's hand, she reaches forward to grasp his wrist softly, angling it so that his palm faces upwards to her gaze, a nervous gasp expels from calix's lips, he's surprised to feel that ‘aerith's’ hands are slightly calloused. though from azur's teachings, a woman of noble birth never does domestic work, that's what maids are for.

it was difficult for women to comprehend how to wield a sword and so they weren't taught to do so. instead, they lived a life where they needn't lift a pinky.

so why were such warm and delicate hands, bruised as if she'd been working?

"you'll need some ointment for your palms." aerith glances over her shoulder to a maid who stands nearby with widened eyes. "lily, could you please?"

calix glances at the maid whom he hadn't noticed, too caught up in the woman in front of him. he glared at her viciously, watching as she scampered away with a small squeal. "yes, my lady!"

calix quickly snatches his hand from the woman and clutches it to his chest, round eyes scowling at her. 'aerith' chuckles soft and low, resting her elbow against her thigh and laying her cheek on her palm— gazing at the boy. he shuffles backwards away from her.

"you're that lady that moved in yesterday, huh?" his gaze is sharp and unwelcoming but the woman in front of him seems to brighten at the sound of his sweet voice. she inclines her head in affirmation, it's surprisingly elegant in calix's eyes. "i am."

it's a simple answer, not one he's expecting but it makes his heart beat fiercely.

the boy finds that the ire he once held for this unknown woman slowly starts to fade away, no matter how hard he wills it to remain. her eyes are like pools of warmth that beckon him to swim within them and her smile is small, but genuine- and calix swears that it's the first one that he's seen outside of his family.

he opens his mouth to say something but there is nothing. 'aerith', seeing him struggle, cocks her head to the right and lets out a soft hum.

“say, i've had a hard time figuring out these halls, i just keep getting lost no matter what i do." she trails off in faux hesitancy and watches as his face lights up slowly but surely. the boy clears his throat and toots his nose up in a haughty manner, a smug smirk hugging his lips, calix finds that though her accent is unfamiliar and slightly heavy, it's not unpleasant to hear.

"i suppose i'll give you a tour, no need to beg." calix scrambles to his feet, fixing his clothing. “i'll visit you early tomorrow morning, be ready!" before she can say anything else, the boy is off, running through the halls once more.

"my lady? where has the little lord gone?"

smiling, you stand from your crouched position and turn to face your personal maid. "it seems he's run off. have the balm sent to his quarters when you have the chance."

lily nods and follows dutifully after you. "shall i show you around tomorrow then my lady?" you place a hand over your mouth to stifle your small laughter. "worry not lily, it seems i've reserved a guide."

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casuallyanidiot · 3 months ago

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yandere vampire whos a total sweetie most of the time, but loses his mind whenever youre bleeding?

This is so interesting and fun! Make it Victorian and it's extra yummy.

Vampire in the Garden

[Yandere M. x Gn reader] tw. noncon, blood, MDNI Nfsw under the cut 1.6k words

You're annoyed and yet flattered to have such a suitor. He's the mysterious marquis who hardly attends social gatherings, and yet he appeared in your garden near nightly. How scandalous!

But he managed to endear himself to you despite the odd visiting hours, and you found yourself waiting up later and later into the evening to greet him. His ashen skin shone even when the moon was new, and he had such a charming smile upon his visage that you found it hard to refuse him.

The marquis sent you gifts often. Flowers from his personal greenhouse, suits and gowns tailored to your form, books that you expressed interest in reading in passing from your nightly chats, and small trinkets and gems would arrive the morning after you awoke. It was truly flattering, and you felt your heart flutter softly each time you graze fingertips now.

You asked him to attend a ball with you, and he did. It caused quite the stir when the wealthy, reclusive man steps into the grand hall only moments after the sun set. He smiled, and you returned the gesture. You could hardly pay attention to the murmurs of the crowd when he had so quickly whisked you away onto the dance floor. He was so beautiful under candlelight that you were left breathless. It was almost unfair how his dark eyes could sparkle with such golden intensity when they looked at you.

He pulled you aside to a moonlit balcony after the music died down, and he slipped a ring on your finger.

"I would be delighted if you would so deign to have me as your husband, my dear," He murmured as if he was a man begging for food, for the right to have something needed to live. He clutched you to his chest in a manner so intimate that you wondered how either of you had ever managed to stay so far apart before. It was quite improper of you at the time, yet you answered not with words to his query but instead a passionate meeting of the lips.

You were married shortly after.

It had been a grand yet private affair, and your things were boxed and packaged, loaded into a carriage, and you were taken deep into the countryside where your new spouse's estate resided. You weren't used to being so isolated from people, and it was odd getting used to living outside of city life, but you weren't one to complain.

Living with Victor, your husband, was smooth and sweet. You found that he tended to sleep during the day and dine, work, and pamper you with affection once the sky streaked orange and dark navy blues. He was truly ecstatic to have you, and you found that you were settling nicely into this odd, nocturnal routine.

You tried not to think about the small, odd things that you found cropping up, though. Servants whispered in the halls about shadows that seemed to linger longer than they should. Gossip surely. Victor also sipped from crystalline wine glasses at almost every supper, and you got the faintest whiff of iron from them.

"Darling, I'm curious. You seem to enjoy your drink quite much," You mentioned one evening, and he seemed to freeze and then bashfully hang his head.

"My dear, I am afraid to say that this is far too harsh and offending for your delicate lips," He teased, and you dropped your curious queries in favor of giggling like a young maiden.

Nothing was out of place until one night, when the stars shone brightly upon your rather scantily clad self. You relaxed within the gardens, enjoying the crisp night air. The roses were in full bloom, a brilliant white shade covered the flower beds. It resembled a snowy field, peaceful and fragrant. You hummed a soft tune as you reached down to pick one of the full, unfurled blooms.

"Ow!" You cried out and hissed softly. "Oh... you fiendish little thing," You sighed and glared at the rose which had been painted with a flash of vibrant scarlet from your blood. How foolish you had been. Of course they would have thorns. Now your poor little finger was bleeding freely and staining your formerly pristine nightgown. You clutched your injured hand to your chest and turned to walk back into the manor to tend to the wound when you spotted him.

His face was downcast, shadowed and hidden from you. His shoulders were hunched, and you blinked in confusion.

"Love? Victor?" You called out to him, your pain forgotten momentarily. He was trembling, and you furrowed your brows. Whatever had possessed him to see him so... eerie? You approached him quickly, your hand cradling his face to bring it into the light.

It was then you saw his expression in all his glory.

Victor's fangs were on full display, drooling and snarling your name against the empty night. His golden eyes seemed to glow unnaturally, and you stepped back in shock.

"V-victor?" You squeaked out, unsure of whether or not you should me scared when his full blown pupils dilated and focused on you.

"Oh darling..." he half moaned as he shuddered in your arms. You could feel your heart beating out of your chest when you felt the razor sharp pinpricks of what you could only assume were claws poking into your shoulders when he gripped you far too tightly. Your lips parted in quivering terror, and all of a sudden, he was sinking his teeth into your exposed neck.

You screamed, but no one was there to help you from the man you wed.

Victor, sweet and gentile, was a beast. He shoved you into a nearby rosebush, and you sobbed as he tore your nightclothes from your trembling body. Never in the months you had been courting would you have ever imagined that he could be so brutish. Tears welled in your eyes, and the blood from your finger was smeared across his face from where you had tried to push him off of you.

Scratches littered your body, and you clutched the crook of your neck from where he had bitten into your supple skin. You whimpered as you felt the flat of his tongue lapping over the weeping cuts on your thighs. His hands gripped the plush flesh in a vice, and he spread them with a gratuitous groan.

"Oh darling, oh [name]," he murmured over and over again as he pressed hot, sloppy, open mouthed kisses to the available surface. In your chest, you could feel your heart break at the sight of how utterly depraved your lover was through the thin slivers of lights that showed off his feral expression. Through the darkness, you could still make out his flashing, toothy grin. His lips were caked with your blood, dripping like poisoned honey and planted across your legs and chest in kiss marks like it was some crude imitation of rouge.

The sound of clothing shuffling around reached your ears through the haze of burning pain and cold realization. What had you done? Who had you married? It was as if you were on some twisted mockery of a wedding night. The Victor you had pledged your vows to was not the one latching onto your neck once again. The bed of roses was that of your new consummation, and you wept as your husband stole the innocence of your soul.

He whispered sweet nothings with the grace of a snarling thing, and lined himself up with your entrance. You cried out in anguish as he took you swiftly. It was a violent affair. His slow, languishing style of making love to you was replaced by a feral, primal fucking. He clutched you tightly to him to save you for shredding your back as he thrust in you. He whispered your name reverently, and you begged him for mercy.

By the time he had gotten his fill of both your body and blood, you were on the verge of fainting and limp in his arms. Your vision was hazy and distorted, and your body bloomed with searing pain. You couldn't handle it for much longer, you hole sore and filled with his his essence, and you passed out with the white roses around you dyed with speckles of your lifeline.

When you awoke in the morning, the curtains were drawn tightly as they usually were during the day. Victor was kneeling over your bedside, his face twisted in worry.

"Darling!" He cried out and cupped your face the second he realized you were moving. You flinched from his now delicate touch, no sign of his claws, and he frowned.

"[Name]... oh my love, you must forgive me!" He said with adoring eyes and a saccharine smile. He grabbed your jaw more tightly than he ever would have before. Your entire body was covered in bandages, and you whimpered as he looked at you almost desperately. It was like he was forcing himself into the version of himself that you had become so comfortable around.

"It was a momentary lapse in judgement, though I must admit that I cannot promise it won't happen again," Victor sighed almost wistfully as he draped over your form in a mockery of an affectionate embrace. Instead it felt far too possessive and constrictive than anything he had subjected you to before. He inhaled your scent and buried his face against your hair. "You're far too sweet for me to show such restraint, my love," He laughed. He laughed like the previous night wasn't one of the most horrifying things you had ever encountered.

Maybe when you thought of him yearning for you like you were something he needed to live, perhaps you should've considered it much more harshly.

#my writing #yandere x reader #yandere #tw yandere #yandere male #yandere x you #x reader #answered asks #fanfic writing #yandere boy #yandere vampire #vampirism #yandere husband

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coralinnii · 2 years ago

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Hi! I just wanna say I love your villain/ness au 😍 especially leonas part thank you for giving me this story as I was finding stories like this💕💕so I was wondering can I request about the tweel? Their my most favorite in twisted wonderland 🙏 it will be my outmost joy to see you write them!

and sorry if im wrong in writing this request because this is actually my first time writing a request 😅 so thank you for the understanding 😁

Being Reincarnated into a New World as the Bad Guy feat: Jade genre: drama note: set in the same universe as previous works (Azul’s ver specifically), no pronouns were used, villain/ess!reader is not a merfolk, roughly 2k word count

series masterlist

I know there's someone missing but Jade's portion got longer than I expected so I cutting it into separate posts. Floyd's part will be released soon so in the meantime, enjoy as we welcome the fourth vice-housewarden to this surprisingly popular AU.

Sorry 3aemidnight, that this is slightly subverted from the request but Floyd's part has that aspect more played into

You’re screwed. Absolutely screwed. Why did you end up in this situation?? You didn’t even read the webtoon! Your classmate was gushing over a popular webtoon and like a good friend, you lent an ear to her excited ramblings. Her favorite characters seem to be a pair of devilish merfolk brothers. It was that rambling that helped you realize where you were because you didn’t bother remembering the main cast but you couldn’t forget the name “Jade Leech” nor his partner, you.

Or at least the character you possessed that your classmate kept wishing she could be. The lucky duck that became Jade’s betrothed but you couldn’t really agree with that sentiment when she mentioned how that same partner was left behind by the Leech heir and prosecuted as an accomplice to the Leech family’s underground activities.

“What’s so great about the hopeless love trope?!”

Unfortunately, the proceedings for your engagement to the suave marquis heir was set. Putting a wrench into the plans now would cause too many issues to both families. Still, you were determined to leave this crazy story unscathed no matter what.

“Let’s make a contract” were your first words to your soon-to-be partner to which he responded with a curious quirk of his eyebrow. “a prenuptial to be precise”

“But my dear,” a shiver ran down your spine when Jade used that supposedly endearing name, a superficial one of course. “What ever could have scared you to have such worries?”

“Because I know what you and your family are trying to do”

Oh, you have piqued Jade’s interest now.

Your listening skills have paid off as you remembered the plot of the Leech family. The brothers were working to extend their family’s power above the waters and to have an “organized system of connections” with the help of the newly appointed count Ashengrotto. With their intelligence and charm, they wanted to monopolize the marine market from local fishing rights to overseas trading. Unfortunately, the main leads stood in their way and forced the native merfolk to flee to their home, leaving those associated with them to answer for their crimes.

You have no interest in being caught in the crossfire but becoming an enemy to the Leech family is not a favourable situation either. So your best option was…

“I’ll help you”

If you’re going to be accused as an accomplice, better be the best accomplice so neither of you get caught.

The greatest challenge for merfolk on land was the discrimination that was still prevalent, even after the human-merfolk alliance. No matter how charming Jade was, it was hard for the merman to converse with the more narrow-minded noblemen. It was why the Leech heir agreed to the engagement as your family was beloved and highly respected in the kingdom. Your character was just an oblivious, lovestruck pawn to his plans.

“I’ll play the perfect partner, give you the backing you need, the intel you want” you stated your terms, with no room for negotiation. “But, we’re publicly in an arranged engagement only, nothing else. We only meet when necessary and once your family secure the Triton ocean trade route, we’re breaking our engagement and never to speak to each other again”

If the Leech family weren’t caught, they would have returned to their native home anyway and controlled the trading from the safety of the ocean. Either way, Jade would have been out of your life regardless, so you should at least escape prosecution.

You weren’t falling for his gentleman facade, and you definitely refuse to be the one on the short end of the stick in his crazy family’s schemes.

You and Jade were locked in a silent stare down, waiting for either one of you to break the silence. You kept your mouth shut, not letting your nerves talk yourself down. It was this or nothing.

Your gamble paid off. Jade chuckled with a slight peek of his sharp teeth and extended his hand out, piercing your figure with a pair devilish eyes.

“If that is what my dear wishes, how can I decline?”

So sealed your deal with the devil your future ex-fiancé

Some time passed since your agreement, you joined a soirée your family was invited to. As a newly engaged couple, it was expected for you to bring Jade to which he was happy to escort his precious person (you hid your scoff). True to your word, you agree to chat with some of the daughters and wives of certain families for certain intel that Jade needed. While the ladies were more tolerant of the merfolk, they held certain prejudices over them which would affect the conversation greatly should Jade attempt to speak with them.

So off you go.

It was surprisingly easy with the chatty ladies to gather what you needed to know. They were happy to brag about the wealth and connections their families had and the businesses they controlled. The number of employers, the unknowing dissatisfaction of their workers that went over their heads, the obvious limited knowledge over the sea routes…everything came loose from their lips and will inevitably be used against them later on. Once you mentally checked off what Jade requested you to find out, you were patiently waiting to take your leave when someone decided to steer the conversation to something else.

“But enough about our families. How is your life as a newly betrothed, darling?” One of the wives brought the attention to you, which took you slightly by surprise.

“Well, our families were growing close so we decided a union would be beneficial” you smiled as convincing as you could. “While we were arranged, I’m sure it will be an amiable alliance”

“Oh, how lucky you are” one of the younger daughters congratulated as convincingly as her eyelashes were. “To be engaged to someone as distinguished and exotic as Jade Leech, your family connections must have been more impressive than I realize. I knew how enamored you were with the young heir, but to think a frumpy wallflower such as yourself managed to capture him. Good for you”

Any semblance of tolerance you had for these women had just been thrown out the window. Even if you were detached from your host character in every sense, you felt anger building in your body from their haughty words. You quickly glanced to where Jade was and he was standing but with his signature smile and charming eyes engaging in conversation with other attendees, so you assumed he couldn’t hear from where he stood.

It’s not good to hold in your anger… so you don’t.

“Interesting…if I’m a frumpy wallflower as you say, what would you be?” You pondered aloud with innocent tone of voice “bottom feeders?”

Gasps and stuttering replies were let out from the flushing women, flabbergasted by your undignified words, but they haven’t heard anything yet.

“Before my engagement, I often chatted with the current Marquis Leech and he was telling me how he was flooded by persistent engagement proposals for his heir that there wasn’t a day that a messenger wouldn’t visit the Leech residence.”

That was a bold-faced lie about your meetings with the Marquis head but you recalled your classmate’s words of the mountains of proposals the Leech brothers would get, proving their in-universe popularity despite being discriminated against. Well, it’s not as though anyone would question your source, you were engaged to a Leech afterall.

The wives may have been confused but the younger ladies were visibly shaking as they watched you with nervous eyes, either praying you didn’t know the families that proposed or if you did, you’d keep silent over it.

But you offer no such salvation from their humiliation

“Out of the countless proposals, I seem to have been chosen over the ones who reached out first. In fact, some of the interested ladies are here in attendance today, such as Lady-“

You paused abruptly as you quickly back away as one of the single daughters reached for a drink and prepared to throw it into your face in desperation to avoid being exposed. Seems like you pushed a line too far. You closed your eyes, braced for a rude splash…

but nothing came.

Surprised muttering and gasps compelled you to reopen your eyes but you were met with a lean chest and tall looming figure blocking you from the women. You leaned to the side and was shocked to see a large wet spot on Jade's pristine suit jacket, his back and shoulder drenched in champagne. You peeked at Jade's face as he wore his signature smile, appearing calm but you could have swore his jaw seemed more tight and strained as though he’s fighting something internally.

Maybe you’re just reading too much into it.

Any semblance of annoyance you thought you saw disappeared the moment the eel merman turned to face the ladies before. He placed his gloved hand over his heart and smiled as usual.

“I believe this conversation may have gone on too long. Everyone is getting a little too tired and reckless. Perhaps we should cut the night short tonight, do you agree?” Jade proceeded to rest his hand on your shoulder, looking at you with faux concern. “Shall we take our leave, my dear?”

Stomping down the involuntary shiver, you nodded and turned to walk away without saying goodbye to the ladies or even waited for Jade to walk with you. At least Jade had some strength to offer a bow and a smile before joining you. However, you didn't notice the way the ladies silently flinched in fear when they saw the dangerous glint in the young merman's mismatched eyes.

“I never realized you had such a fiery tongue,” Jade commented as the two of you make your way to your carriage, to which you clicked your tongue in annoyance.

“So you were able to hear everything” you chose to change the topic. “You better not say anything to your father about what I said today. I needed to use an excuse”

“You needn’t worry, my dear. I’m simply impressed you knew about the proposal letters.” Jade ended his words there, but you knew he was curious to know your sources, especially since it pertains to the ongoings in the Leech residence.

“I heard some things, that’s all I’ll say” you held your tongue beyond that, your eyes relaying to Jade not to prod further, which he conceded.

“Of course. I would never want to upset you, my dear.” Jade smiled at the slight shiver in your shoulders.

“Alright, my turn to ask questions” you stopped in your tracks, forcing Jade to do the same, enticing his curiosity as you always seem to. Your eyes stared at the stained jacket that hung over Jade's arm, having taken it off to avoid the rest of his attire getting dirty. A sense of guilt pinched your heart as you questioned him, “Why did you save me? Sure, I’ll be slightly humiliated but I can just play the victim and ruin them further”

Jade silently stood in his spot, as though he was seriously contemplating his previous actions. But you doubt that because Jade Leech does not do things impulsively. He’s calculating, his movements always premeditated and intentional.

Right?

Then, the ocean-haired man slowly walked closer to you. Carefully, he reached out his gloved hand towards your cheek and wiped a small drop of champagne from your hairline. A minuscule drop must have made its way to your face without your awareness. But Jade noticed. The cold leather glided from your forehead to your ear, to which he crept closer as he leaned down and whispered to you.

“We made a deal, my dear” his smooth voice vibrated clearly into your head and your instinctive shiver came once more from his name for you. “I plan to make good use of you and I will not permit anyone from ruining you before I’m done”

You sealed your fate with Jade, so you must commit to the end.

#disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland imagines #twst scenarios #twst imagines #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland scenarios #jade leech #jade x reader #villainess au

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lalathemediterraneanmermaid · 3 months ago

Text

What do ikevill suitors smell like? PT.2

Hi little robins, this is pt.2 of "What do ikevil suitors smell like?". I've included the three new babies villains, the Vogel boys. Eventhough we don't know much about them, I couldn't resist including them here, because I already love those sillies. Soooo, enjoy, my dears!!! Btw, just like in pt.1, I tried to put the same amount of perfumes on each boy, except for Elbie, our greedy boy.

Elbert Greetia

A melancholic, porcelain-doll-looking nobleman. Our Ethereal Prince. My Greedy Boy. As beautiful as a work of art. He has a little maniacal obsession with collecting the most beautiful things in the world, just for himself, that's why he has so many perfumes, he can't decide which one he likes the most, so he keeps buying new fragrances. "I want. I want. I want… If only I could find it, then surely..." Love, let me hold your hand while telling you this: you are the mot beautiful thing in the world. His ocean-blue eyes and long, fluttering lashes hold such a sorrowful gaze. If it weren't because of his curse, he could perfectly be part of ikemen prince, you can't change my mind. I love Elbie, and I can't wait to play his route over and over again. He reminds me of a rain-soaked garden with a gazebo full of roses in the middle. He reminds me of a nostalgic walk along a solitary beach at dusk. He reminds me of a magical forest bathed in silver moonlight. He definitely smells clean, soft, and ethereal, with perhaps some citrusy notes blended with salty-marine hints that reflect his love for beach walks.

Notes: Bergamot, lemon, aldehydes, orange blossom, jasmine, lavender, sea salt, sandalwood, white musk and amber.

Perfumes he might like:

De Profundis - Serge Lutens

Un Jardin Apres La Mousson - Hermès

Wood Sage & Sea Salt - Jo Malone

Aqua Allegoria Teazzurra - Guerlain

L’Eau Froide - Serge Lutens

Sel Marin - James Heeley

Fou d’Absinthe - L’Artisan Parfumeur

Meomir Man - Amouage

Ninfeo Mio - Goutal

Jude Jazza

The Cunning & Ruthless Mobster. Crown's personal Maleficent. Silvio 2.0. A mean pookie who enjoys the problems and suffering of others. "All your yappin's real noisy. Lemme shut ya up.” OMG he even speaks like Silvio. Pretty sure he's kinky af, he may be into chains or something similar. "He's earned himself many enemies" Nah, really? I would've never guessed, not with that golden retriever personality of his. "He always fulfills his promises and expects the same of others, holding a special one close to his festering heart." You see? He has a heart, allegedly. Anyways, we're here to talk about scents, aren't we? I feel like he smells like tobacco and liqueur, I'm 100% sure. And, I don't know why, I can sense some kind of smell that reminds me of sylvester bushes and a really old library, full of dust. Of course, we can't forget that he has money *cough, cough, Silvio, cough*, so he also needs a really expensive scent. He probably doesn't have a favourite perfume, because he slays at layering them and creating new scents that combine with his radiant and bubbly personality.

Notes: Liqueur, cognac, tobacco, black pepper, cinnamon, bergamot, cedarwood, sandalwood, leather, amber and vetiver.

Perfumes he might like:

Man In Black - Bvlgari

Tobacco Vanille - Tom Ford

Angels' Share - By Killian

Straight to Heaven - By Killian

The Tragedy of Lord George - Penhaligon's

1740 Marquis de Sade - Histoires de Parfums

Ellis Twilight

The little sunshine oddball filled with happiness and joy. Have you seen those cute little curls in his hair? *OMG he's so fluffy I'm gonna dieeee.* He wants to reveal the happiest moments of other people’s lives (and then kill them). He really has a peculiar obsession (another impulsive maniacal wow, such a surprise hahan't.) for the "happiest moment" in others' lives and his own definition of "love" he's striving to prove (Alexa, play "Safer" by Tyla). “Tell me, how happy are you right now…?” If I tell you I'm depressed will you let me live?. Crown's youngest member and Jude's assistant (I don't even know what to think anymore, poor Ellis or poor Jude?). Anyways, as the mentally ill person that I am, I'll patiently wait for his route release. Back to the scents, he loves crispy baguettes and raspberry jam. I feel like he smells like a twisted picnic in a forest at dusk, with pink roses, fresh bread and berries. Clean, but with earthy and woody hints. Since he is such a people pleaser, he doesn't have a favourite perfume, he's just going to wear whatever you like the most, even if it's nothing, even if it's gasoline.

Notes: Mandarine, grapefruit, raspberry, rose, bread, cedarwood, vanilla, oak moss and amber.

Perfumes he might like:

By The Fireplace - Maison Margiela

Eau Rose - Diptyque

Aventus for Her - Creed

Memoirs of a Trespasser - Imaginary Authors

Pomegranate Noir - Jo Malone

Mûre et Musc - L’Artisan Parfumeur

Darius Vogel

The so called Untrustworthy Cruel Angel, or what I prefer, Chevalier and Gilbert's love child. He truly looks as beautiful and ethereal as an angel, but so did Lucifer, and he ended up ruling Hell, so... we'll have to wait to see him in action... According to Victor in his Vicpedia "Is he an angel or a devil? You’ll have to find out for yourself." “Hello cursed people and everyone else. Won’t you join me in building a wonderful world?” Vlad, is that you? The angelic head of the German empire’s direct organisation, “Vogel”. Referencing Victor on his Vicpedia, "Though he looks like an angel, there’s a strong scent of evil coming from him." So, translated to scents, what does that exactly smells like? Based on what we know, which is not much, if not nothing, I will say that his scent matches his appearance, so maybe a really light, soft, airy and beautiful opening, with white flowers and white musk, very angelic-like, with a "punch" of something much more obscure beneath the surface, maybe some spices, sweet liqueurs and dark woods. All that in a winter-like scenery, very cold, like a breath on top of a glacier.

Notes: Bergamot, jasmine, gardenia, lily of the valley, snowdrop, foxglove, cypress, sandalwood, cinnamon, black pepper, oak moss and absinthe.

Perfumes he might like:

The Language Of Glaciers - Imaginary Authors - His favourite

Nightingale - Zoologist Perfumes

Viking - Creed

Reflection Man - Amouage

La Religieuse - Serge Lutens

Poivre Noire - Serge Lutens

Nica Schwartz

Just like Jude is the villanous version of Silvio from ikeprince, I feel like Nica is Nokto's doppelganger in ikevillains. A frivolous and cunning person who plays with love. He gives me foxy vibes, but in a darker and colder way. He's referred to as "Vogel’s brain" and seems to have a knack for manipulation and has an eye for money and power. “Guten Tag, cute robin. I want you to be my toy", yep, we have yet another fox. He's a bookworm, but, apparently, is just so he can gain more and more knowledge so he can play with you all. In the official information given directly by Cybird, it says that Nica resents shows of affection, but he still plays with you like a toy. Doesn't that sounds like he's desperate for someone loving him? "He resents love because he has never been given some." Again, this are just assumptions based on what we know and the vibes that I get from him. In conclusion, beneath that foxy-like appearance, I feel like he may have a huge heart of gold that he is too afraid to share. If I had to translate that vibe into a scent, it would probably be something seductive but fresh and sweet at the same time, something more "wild" like a fox playing in a field, but with a cooler vibe, maybe between winter and spring.

Notes: Bergamot, vetiver, jasmin, fruity, leather, ambar, incense, musk, lily of the valley, wild flowers, vanilla, honey, tulip and pink pepper.

Perfumes he might like:

Fox in the Flowerbed - Imaginary Authors - His favourite

L'homme Ideal - Guerlain

Yesterday Haze - Imaginary Authors

XJ 1861 Naxos - Xerjoff

Tam Dao - Diptyque

Snowy Owl - Zoologist Perfumes

Ring Schwartz

The love of my life pt. I already lost the count. The cute Vogel's guard dog. Dariu's puppet and Licht's doppelganger. "This younger twin suffers from blushing easily" Victor please stop, I can't take it anymore. “If you don’t want your life to be taken, don’t get in the way of us, Vogel.” Okay cute puppy, whatever you say. From what we know, Ring seems cold when you first approach him, but he will be on his knees at the minimum show of affection towards him. So, if you play with his heart, you'll not only have Nica going for you, I'll be there too. Based on the information that Cybird has given us, he seems to be shy and cold, since one of his hobbies is "being in the corner of a room", still, it's not like he is an antisocial, we can guess that because the thing that he resents the most is "eating alone". The other hobby that he has is "taking a nap while looking at the sky" this tells me that he prefers quiet places where he can feel at peace, and somehow it also gives me the vibes of a dreamer, since "looking at the sky" is kind of poetic and it can symbolise freedom, if you know what I mean. In his skills he mixes two aspects that seem quite radical, combat skills and martial arts, along with a really good relationship with animals and an understanding of plants and flowers. When I say radical, in this case, I mean it's that one thing is "agressive" and "tough" while the other is so much more "soft" and "light energy". That aspect of dichotomy or duality is the most important characteristic of Ring, and it needs to be reflected on his scent.

Notes: Grapefruit, black pepper, ginger, lavender, vanilla, lily of the valley, snowdrop, leather, sandalwood, amber and forget-me-not.

Perfumes he might like:

The Noir 29 - Le Labo

Jubilation XXV - Amouage

Pardon - Nasomatto

Russian Leather - Memo Paris

Hyrax - Zoologist Perfumes

Burning Ben - Strangers Parfumerie - His favourite

And here it ends the "What do ___ suitors smell like?" Ikemen Villains edition. I hope you have enjoyed reading this as mucha as I have enjoyed writing it. You've probably noticed that the ikevil version of these series is pretty much less humorous than the ikeprince version. I think it is mainly because, eventhough both games characters are so well written and have a lot of traumas and issues, I still think that Ikemen Villains is the darkest one, and so, the one with less humorous content. And also, I tried to understand each character, that's why the character's descriptions are so long, sorry for that hehe. Anyways, thanks for your attention and love!!! Love you all my little robins!!!

Btw, I will probably continue doing this with ikevamp and maybe, maybe, ikesen, but it will take some time, there are a lot of characters in those game series.

#cybird #cybird ikemen #ikemen games #ikemen series #ikemen villains #ikevil #elbert greetia #jude jazza #ellis twilight #darius vogel #nica schwartz #ring schwartz #little robin

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todaysdocument · 4 months ago

Text

Letter from Thomas Jefferson to John Jay

Record Group 360: Records of the Continental and Confederation Congresses and the Constitutional ConventionSeries: Papers of the Continental CongressFile Unit: Letters from Thomas Jefferson

Paris July 19 1789.

Dear Sir

I am become very uneasy lest you should have adopted some channel for the conveiance of you letters to me which is unfaithful. I have none from you of later date than Nov. 25. 1788. and of consequence no acknolegement of the receipt of any of mine since that of Aug. 11. 1788. since that period I have written to you of the following dates 1788. Aug. 20 Sep. 3. 5. 24. Nov. 14. 19. 29. 1789. Jan. 11. 14. 21. Feb 4. Mar. 1. 12. 14. 15. May. 9.11.12 Jun 17.24.29. I know through another person that you have received mine of Nov. 29. that you have written an answer; but I have never received the answer, and it is this which suggests to me the fear of some general source of miscarriage.

The capture of three French merchant ships by the Algennes under different pretexts has produced great sensation in the seaports of this country, and some of it's government. They have ordered some frigates to be armed at Toulon to punish them. There is a possibility that this circumstance, if not too soon set to rights by the Algennes, may furnish occasion to the States general. Then they shall have leisure to attend to matters of this kind to disavow any future tributary treaty with them. These pyrates respect still less their treaty with Spain, and treat the Spaniards with an insolence greater than usual before the treaty.

The scarcity of bread begins to lessen in the Southern parts of France where the harvest is commenced. Here it is still threatening because because we have yet two or three weeks to the beginning of harvest and I think there has not been three days provision beforehand in Paris for two or three weeks past. Monsieur de Mirabeau, who is very hostile to Mr Necker wished to find a ground for censuring him in a proposition to have a great quantity of flour furnished from the United States which he supposed me to have made to Mr. Necker, & to have been refused by him; and he asked time of the states general to furnish proofs.The Marquis de la Fayette immediately gave me notice of this matter and I wrote him a letter to disavow having ever made any such proposition to Mr Necker, which I desired him to communicate to the states. I waited immediately on Mr. Necker and Monsieur de Montmorn, satisfied them that what had been suggested was absolutely without foundation from me, and indeed they had not needed this testimony. I gave them copies of my letter to the Marquis de la Fayette, which was afterwards printed. The Marquis, on the receipt of my letter, shewed it to Mirabeau, who turned then to a paper from which he had drawn his information. I found he had totally mistaken it. He promised immediately that he would himself declare his error to the States general and read to them my letter, which he did. I state this matter to you, tho' of little consequence in itself, because it might go to you mistated in in the English papers-our supplies to the Altantic ports of France during the months of March, April, & May were only quintals 12,220 - 33 of flour and quintals 44,115 - 40 of wheat, in 21 vessels.

#archivesgov #July 19 #1789 #18th century #french revolution #thomas jefferson #mirabeau #john jay #france

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ms0milk · 3 months ago

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✧ forget-me-nots ✧

trying to pass on some of the appreciation I receive here because it's crazy to break the 4th wall for a second and really internalize how this community is driven by creativity and mutual loving. here's a list in random order of my most dear to me loves + a few nonmutuals whose work i think of often, and the pieces that remind me most of them

when they come for you in the night (thorfinn x reader) | @gardenofnoah

the depth of dive i had to take through your blog to find this is just.. the moment i hit "when you’ve known nothing but cruelty, kindness would surely be terrifying" it was game over. thorfinn came so so to life and this was such a stunnning introduction to your style. youve written so much now and i find myself always totally stunned! but i still always think of this one first. (i give it all to you also spills out of my brain sometimes while im trying to go about the world and was a close contender + this bkg x feral creature little piece of wonderful)

you. that's what happened, you (maki x reader) | @neiptune

you already know, i would be a godless liar if said i didn't think about this weekly; the maki rizz is heretofore unmatched, this piece went above and beyond all req expectations, “hold my hand, they’ll think something’s wrong if you don’t” will be the epitaph on my tombstone. you have the power to make me love all those boys ive never even thought about, and when it was time to write for my actual wife you cracked your knuckles and made sure id never be satisfied by another! (aint that the worst thing you ever heard also reminds me of you sm, eren aot of all people)

unsubtle pro shinsou drabble | @moonbeamwritings

i can feel the heat of shinsou's crush through both our screens it is just perfection!!! what a dweeb. love to send this to myself so its easy to find and reread on the regular

To Shape a Home (bkg x reader) | @kweenkatsuki-fics

not only do the stardew vibes shine through every corner, this fic was carved out with such care it makes the relationship + bkg's growth all the more precious! "yer nothin’ to go nuts over." was an insane introduction and the two of them only got better and better and sweeter and stickier with time (ao3 tagged bc i cant find your beautiful masterlist marquie sosrrrrry)

bittersweet (vash x reader) | @heich0e

i remember exactly where i was when i read this for the first time and I remember how excited I was to find a vash fic after so long loving trigun! i didn't even know the new series had been released yet! this was agonizing, such a soft characterization for both, and the desert was so palpable-- the setting really added so much spice to an already seasoned piece

hanafuda (tanjiro x reader) | @cherryblossomsenpai

way way back in 2022 this was one of the first tanjiro pieces i ever read that really made a romantic argument for him. love his exhaustion, exasperation, fear and relief all wrapped up in one hug "The rest of his lecture is indecipherable," bc he's just crying so hard! total sweetheart, so in character

kirishima drunk girl wrangler | @mechamedusa

dusa🫱🏻‍🫲🏼kirishima ofc your kiri thoughts are unmatched and this one is so quintessential, when i think of him i think of you. he is so wrangler shaped! the perfect boyfriend, your mind is a treasure trove

wedding vows (hashira x reader) | @meowzfordayz

to my very first friend <3 you'd think the piece i associate most with you would be one of giyuus and you write so so impressively much it was hard to decide, but this hashira drabble wrung me by the neck when I first read it, and it still crushes me that your kyojuro isn't a real man i can go outside and hunt for sport. "I have an energy bar in my suit pocket — just in case." a snack for his partner at their own wedding put me down, love your mind always

sleepy rengoku drabble | @vampcubus

my femdom queen! why was it so hard for me to remember which character this was written for? reader's rizz blinded me, thank you for introducing me to dom!reader works bc now every sexy hc i have is filtered through the puppysub filter to make all those big strong boys tastefully more submissive

anything to do with anika~ | @ltadoriyuujl

love your oc, she's such a caring nuclear bomb! loved reading your wonderful chara exploration piece and being able to write for her myself! what a trust fall

the only exception (yuuji x reader) | @touyangel

yuuji is such a boyscout at the end of the world, even in total tragedy he is kind and calm and caring. thinking about "If he wasn’t teaching you how to decapitate something that used to be human, it might have been romantic." this one hurts so so good and very easily convinced me love on him. even with all the choso pieces of yours I adore, this yuuji piece reminds me most of you (this sick choso drabble is a close second!)

menthol (aki x reader) | @cyancherub

the smut hall of fame all time champion on my knees on the floor kicking my feet and smiling, love the characterization in this piece! car guy/childhood friend/overprotective/smoke sess/ so intimate and perfectly filthy. a tried and true classic, this is a blessing

fill my little world right up (aizawa x reader) | @shibaraki

the fic of all time yeah, WHAT a way to be introduced to your writing and what a privilege! this piece is just a beating heart, every action and character introduction felt like a memory, the love was so palpable. reread this one all the time, can't believe it's free, want to bind a copy for my bookshelf

cor unum (sukuna x reader) | @vampyrsm

this was the first writing i ever saw from you and in an effort of solidarity (im finishing a longform fic as well and holy fuck) i've very recently started reading and can already tell how much care you had for this world and its characters. the dedication to setting and history is so cool and rare in reader fics, can't believe you're letting us read all this for free! what a tome, seriously looking forward to it (and this bkg thought abt crowded places! mmm)

i love you more than being seventeen (nanami x reader) | @strawberrystepmom

this fucking guy oh my god, this fic almost put me in the hospital, so so glad you reposted. "hey. I love you." OOhhhHHGoowwAWAWAAAA this is such a timeless character piece-- nanami running away from this word he hates, job he hates, girl he loves, and coming back to it all knowing he'll die and knowing its worth it. i get chills

strawberry stars on my lips (bkg x reader) | @willowser

breaking the rules of speed dating is insanely romantic, probably the most romantic thing someone has ever thought of and this is the piece i think of when i think of your blog. bkg is simultaneously so constipated and so vulnerable i almost feel like i have to cover my eyes for him and it is sugary sweet in the best way. happy hiatus!

#appreciate you all and more!#pmme.txt

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jeding-png · 3 months ago

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I thought I was ready not to cry or how chapter 159 had tricked me.

I read the new chapter twice. I watched each frame twice. I even read that chapter of the novel twice today.

And you know what, dear readers? TO HELL WITH ALL OF IT!

Warning! This chapter is mostly about Derrick.

A familiar face, right? At least for me, because my mother also got angry and tore the leaves out of the notebook when I wrote incorrectly something.

But here Derrick is scolded not because of bad handwriting, but because he dared to question Winter's involvement in the investigation, while Derrick himself was removed from it.

And you yourself know that the phrase "I love you more than the child of my best friend!" is very pleasant, but not always true. :^

"If Marquis Verdandi not give the antidote, we would already be preparing for the funeral!"

However, the Duke notices some very strange behavior in Derrick. His eldest son's trembling body, a confused look and muttering that this is impossible.

Remember how Reynold disclosed that he had a strange dream, as if Penelope was beating Ivonne? On the eve of the conversation with that btch, Derrick also had a similar dream!

Okay, you can stop and enjoy this image for a few minutes. The main thing is to remember that this is not the reality you dream about. I will wait for you..

Again, the feeling of déjà vu, again the scene in the head about how Ivonne must always suffer at the event that is connected with Penelope.

According to unofficial information, the duke thought that Derrick was drunk, so he quickly asked him to leave the office so that his carpet would not be damaged.

Then it was something like this:

Duke Eckhart: Derrick, my son... you better go to your room to rest...

Derrick: But...

Duke Eckhart: STFU, small scum This is an order.

Do you remember this woman? You know... the one who didn't immediately listen to Penelope at the beginning of the manhwa? Yes, the head maid. Well... she's also brainwashed! :D

So this old lady told Derrick that Ivonne was single and looking for the young duke. No, Derrick didn't go to her right away! Can you imagine? His body did not listen to him (because he had problems with his head), so he left.

Okay..... now....

🔊

KYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA—!!

DERRICK IS SMILING! I THOUGHT I'D SEE THIS IN A FEW YEARS!!!! AND LITTLE IVONNE. LITTLE IVONNEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!

🔇

Phew... yes, thanks. Sorry, I can't help myself when I see these two together... when they're children... when they're not two bastards.... *sobs*

As you can see in the second photo, this girl is holding a piece of mirror that she is brainwashing with. Although her smile scares me.

A sweet voice full of hesitation and hope and emotion when Derrick told them to go to Penelope's coming of age together. Tears of happiness and worry about whether they would disturb Penelope... that's all Derrick remembers, not the blue glow of the artifact.

There was a very nice and interesting frame, as the many fragments show Penelope and the various scenes that Derrick remembers.

"Young duke."

...............................................🔇

Of course, our Penelope is beautiful, but we definitely remember chapter 19 and we definitely remember that she looked different.

Derrick, wth? But at least the blue glow in this dude's eyes is going away, thanks.

You know, you can skip reading this post because you'll be looking at Callisto flying sitting by Penelope's bed.

It is literally the sun. The sun at the end of this chapter. The sun after all the sad moments. The sun that will finally crush us with his words.

Callisto is beautiful. Even in the blood of his loved one, but the way he listens carefully to the doctor about Penelope's condition, and then gently takes her hand in his... the touch of his lips to Penelope's palm... I'm melting.

But it seems that you need to open the window or vacuum the dust. Here is a sick person, guys-!

Suffocated for a few more chapters before the end of the season... and we'll be left heartbroken and red-eyed.

G-good news! The next chapter begins with Callisto and Penelope's moment! ^^'

#villains are destined to die #death is the only ending for a villainess #death is the only ending for the villainess #death is the only ending for the villain #manhwa #vadd #vadd spoilers #vadd new chapter #vadd novel spoilers #vadtd #ditoeftv #derrick eckhart #ivonne eckhart #duke eckhart #penelope eckhart #callisto regulus #reynold eckhart #winter verdandi

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endless-ineffabilities · 2 years ago

Note

MORE MARQUIS MOREEEEEEE I LOOOOOOVED IT, L - O - V - E - D ITTT!!!!!!!

le marquis et le moineau - (ill)fated

Marquis de Gramont x f!reader

synopsis: one of several short stories, set up as a prequel to this oneshot of le marquis et le moineau. This is set in the early days, depicting the beginning of what would turn into a dangerous mutual infatuation.

more of moineau: le marquis et le moineau ▪︎ first dance ▪︎ other works

word count: 2.5k ▪︎ themes/warnings: slow burn, mentions of violence (it's the John Wick universe ofc), language

"Welcome to the New York Continental. How may I be of service?" Charon asks in his flawless genial manner.

You stand behind him, his shadow in training. After only 3 short months as the 'Assistant to the Concierge' - (a title you picked over 'Assistant Concierge', in reference to a certain beloved TV series) - you've come to learn the ins and outs of the Continental.

What makes it tick. The demands of its peculiar crowd of usual guests. What is required to keep such an establishment up and running.

In truth, it takes a lot of fucking work. Much and more need to be swept under the rug so as to not attract attention. Guests need to be kept satisfied, their particular requests adhered to. As long as it is well within the rules of the High Table, of course.

The only thing separating you from the animals.

As if everyone in this sort of life has not already become animal. Well, isn't ignorance such bliss.

The man who introduced himself as Chidi says, "I have come ahead of my superior, the Marquis de Gramont. Needless to say, we must ensure that everything is well-prepared for his stay here in New York. Wouldn't you agree, Charon?"

"Of course, sir." Charon tilts his head. "I will personally see to that, don't you worry. Is he still set to arrive tonight at the planned hour?"

"He should be here at 6 this evening. I trust that the... agitator is being dealt with?"

Charon walks in front of the counter, taking a parcel from a bellhop. He keeps his gaze trained on Chidi. "With compliments of the Continental, sir. The proprietor has ensured that the liability will be brought to the penthouse of the Marquis."

"Very good." Chidi taps Charon on the shoulder once, before walking away, a satisfied sneer on his face.

"Just remember, sir," Charon calls out to him, making his stop in his tracks, "that no business may be conducted on Continental grounds."

"Hmm."

After a moment, you move to stand beside Charon.

"So, sir, what was that all about?"

He turns his head towards you fondly. "I'm sure you've heard of Marquis Vincent de Gramont."

"Well, I've heard that he comes across as a pompous ass, if that's what you mean."

Charon simply raises his eyebrows at you, already accustomed to your blunt, sarcastic manner of speaking. "Well, he will be staying with us for a couple of days, as he has some... business to deal with."

"I won't even ask."

He moves to stand in front of you, finding your eyes. "Dear child, might I suggest steering clear of the Marquis and his associates whilst he is in residence with us here? It would simply be for the best. His reputation does preceed him."

You can't help but smile at Charon's nickname for you, one that heralds back to when your family first moved across the hall from him in one of the High Table sponsored apartment buildings in downtown Manhattan.

You had been only 12, but you were already well aware of your father's line of work. One that required him to be away on business to faraway cities each month, and caused him to rub elbows with the dregs of the underworld.

Not all of them were bad though. You grew fond of some of his associates, namely Charon, of course. And the one they called the Baba Yaga, but to you he was just Johnny.

John Wick hated the name, but he liked you, so the name stayed. Him and his then wife somehow became your second set of parents, with your dad never around and your mother usually drowning in her fancy liquor.

More than a decade later, your father met his end on one of his jobs. One that was only supposed to be "quick and easy". He promised he would be back to you in no time, with a box of your favourite chocolates from Paris.

But he never came. And neither did the fucking chocolates, which truthfully, you now hated. Your father lost his life in that city, so you grew to loathe everything about it.

And now comes the Marquis, the man practically in charge of all of Paris. Not to the public eye, of course.

If Charon asks you to steer clear of him, it must be for good reason.

But you've never been good at following orders. Or staying out of trouble. Or keeping your mouth shut.

"Whoever this Marquis is, I can handle him," you say determinedly. "I'll just act normal, do my job, go about business as usual."

Charon takes a deep breath, resigning himself. "Very well. Just try not to catch his eye." A tenant raises her hand, demanding his attention, so he starts to head her way.

"You know me," you call after him, an impish grin on your face. "I'm only a shadow."

The Marquis de Gramont stands in the ornate lobby of the Continental, surrounded by his posse. Clad in an impeccable three-piece cream suit, his hair perfectly coiffed, his polished shoes gleaming to the naked eye.

He is never beating those pompous ass allegations. You can't help but smirk from your post behind the concierge desk.

You look down briefly, smoothing out invisible creases on your black button-up shirt. Don't laugh. You roll out your shoulders. Compose yourself.

Winston and Charon had greeted his entourage upon entering, and they've been hashing out the details of his stay for the last minute or two. Apparently, the Marquis has some very specific demands. Of course he does.

Those in the group exchange some final words, nodding to each other, seemingly satisfied. Charon raises his arm, directing the Marquis. "Right this way, if you please."

Hands on his hips, the Marquis makes his way over to the private elevator. Which only means that he will have to pass by your post.

You try to keep your head down, as a practiced sign of cordiality. Also, so that you don't let out an impromptu sneer. But you can't help it. Right when he passes by, you raise your head.

And he is already looking straight at you.

The corner of his lips is in a downturn, as if he is judging you where you stand. Pompous prick.

You don't let it faze you. "Welcome to the Continental. We hope you enjoy your stay," you greet him, eyes not leaving his in some sort of defiance.

"Hmm." He walks by, slowly, and you only want to urge him on. But just when he is clear of the reception desk, he turns on his heel.

"What is your name?" He asks, a perfect brow raised in anticipation.

You answer him, keeping your voice steady. You've learned a long time ago not to allow men like him the chance to intimidate you.

A momentary pause, before he repeats your name. You want to hate the way he says it, as if he testing it on his tongue, seeing how it tastes.

But hell, that French accent can make anything sound heavenly.

"Is there a problem, monsieur?" Charon has moved to your side, wary of the attention from the marquis.

Marquis de Gramont barely acknowledges Charon with a sideways glance, before looking back to you. "Non, no problem at all."

He finally walks away. But of course, of course he has to drive a chill up your spine as he calls over his shoulder, "Have her come up to me in twenty minutes."

You grit your teeth in an attempt to maintain cordiality. "Excuse me, sir?" He could have at least addressed me himself.

Nothing. He doesn't even look back at you as he enters the elevator, head dipped in hushed whispers to his security team.

"So much for your being 'only a shadow', hmm?" Charon echoes your sentiment, which has just been apparently disproven.

Winston draws closer, worried look on his face as he says, "Quite a conundrum, dear one. I'm considering sending someone else in your place, however, he did ask for you markedly."

Your stomach churned. "Maybe he just needs some attending? Room service? Basic cleanup? I don't know..." Basic cleanup being clearing the blood of the surfaces of his penthouse, especially after he deals with the man the establishment had caught and presented to him.

Deals with. But not kill. Never that. Not whilst on Continental grounds, that is.

Winston responds, "Perhaps so. I trust that you will handle it? I know you can, child."

You straighten yourself. "Of course I can. He's just some overgrown French brat."

But what the fuck does he want?

"If anything," Winston adds calmly, "and worst comes to worst, your dear Uncle Johnny would surely be happy to lend a hand."

Of course he will. Feeling much lighter, you shoot a smile at Charon and Winston, before returning to your post behind the desk.

18 more minutes.

The Marquis stays in the biggest penthouse of the Continental. The most exclusive part of the property, made even more opulent per his request.

New pieces of artwork are hung on the walls, requested from some New York Baron's private collection. Not that he had a choice.

The man - the traitor - known as Laurent had been staying at the Continental in the week prior, stupidly believing that he is free of the Marquis.

It only took one phone call, and of course, Winston had to relent. They kept Laurent in one of their best suites, lulling him into a false sense of security, all while preparing for the Marquis' arrival.

Then Laurent's room was filled with nitrous oxide, and he was tied up and taken to the Marquis' penthouse.

Laurent sits in a lone wooden chair, nearly unconscious in the middle of the drawing room as you enter, a gash of deep red on his temple.

Chidi sits directly in front of him, seemingly carrying out the interrogation. His superior, on the other hand, lazily sits on the plush couch on the far side of the room. Looking as if he'd rather be anywhere but here. As if there isn't a man being tortured right in front of his eyes.

One of his men announces your arrival, but you sense the Marquis has already noticed your presence.

You clear your throat. "You asked for me, sir?"

"Mmm," he hums, and tilts his head. "Tell me, what was so funny?"

"I'm sorry?"

"When you first saw me in the lobby," he stands, stalking over to you, "you smirked. I wish to know what it was that brought you to react in such a manner."

This is why he asked for me? Because I smirked? Oh, for fuck's -

He steps forward, closer. "Cat got your tongue?"

"No, sir, I... I must admit, I don't quite remember what you speak of. I smirk to myself all the time. I've got plenty of inside jokes and all that."

"To yourself?"

"Yes."

"Are you... well in the head?" He twirls his fingers beside his temple. The bastard.

"Yes, Marquis." You take a deep breath, but you can't help yourself. "But I assure you I'm just as demented as you are."

A gloom falls over his face, and you sense his security team tense up. Preparing for him to say the word.

Your eyes trail around the room, and continue, "And everyone else in this world of ours."

The Marquis stares at you. Half-indignant, and dare you think it, half-amused.

His lips twitch, fighting back a smirk of his own, and his eyes rake your figure. From your uniform shoes to your hands to your lips. Then back to your gaze.

"Fair point." He shrugs, and the room settles once again. His men look away from the pair of you.

He turns, beckoning you to follow. A few feet in front of Laurent, he asks, "What do you make of this?"

Of this? You mean of him? The way the Marquis speaks, as if Laurent is merely a thing to be dealt with and not a person, bothers you. But such is the way of your world.

"Laurent Castillon. French-Italian sommelier. If I understand correctly, he cheated you out of what would have been successful dinner plans."

Sommelier, an arms dealer. Dinner plans, whatever you can concoct with the use of guns. You're more than accustomed to the language, having picked it up over the years.

"Excellent." The Marquis clasps his hands, pleased. "Now, what do you make of this? What would you do, if you were in my shoes?"

He is testing you, prodding you on. Seeing if you would curl back in your shell or flinch.

Is there a wrong answer here, or is this all just some game?

"I would set things right, I suppose."

"You suppose?" He repeats, dissatisfied. "We don't deal in half measures."

"I would - ," you look him directly in his eyes, "I would make him pay."

Something sparks in Marquis de Gramont's eyes. Recognition? Appreciation? Excitement?

"Won't that be a waste?" He takes a step closer, eliminating the space between you.

Stand your ground.

You shrug, "Such is life."

He smiles, "Indeed, petit moineau."

In a flash, without breaking your gaze, he takes a handgun from the inner lining of his jacket and shoots Laurent in the knee. He keels over, screaming.

The familiar sound rings in your ears, making you dig your nails in the flesh of your palm.

The Marquis does not even flinch, does not even look at Laurent who is writhing on the floor in pain.

"And what now?" He rubs an eyebrow with his thumb, still holding his gun carelessly with that hand.

"That depends." What the fuck did he call me? Moineau? "How gracious do you feel tonight?"

"Why?"

"Well," you say carefully, knowing the wrong word might set him off, "you could let the fool go. You've already taught him a lesson."

A long, torturous pause. He does not seem to like that suggestion.

"Take him away." He gives a sudden order, and all his men rush to obey. Seconds pass, and Laurent is out of your sight. Only Chidi and two other men are left hovering in the corner.

"Leave us," the Marquis finally says. Well, shit.

The door shuts behind the men, and you are left alone, with one of the most notorious men in the city. Perhaps the world.

"What's going to happen to him?" You find yourself asking, to fill the silence and also because you're genuinely curious.

He looks at you in confusion, as if the answer is the most obvious thing. "He dies, of course."

You swallow, a picture of forced composure. "Of course."

He rolls his eyes. "Sure, not here on the Continental and all that nonsense. But it does not matter. He dies anyway."

He dies. He says that so easily, like a life means nothing. It probably means nothing to him. Your father would probably have only been another life to spend, just another one in the roster, in his eyes.

"I hope you aren't busy," he says, walking to the other room.

"What did you have in mind?" Why can't he just send me away already?

"We shall dine together. I could use the company."

You grumble under your breath, "So much for being a shadow."

"Pardon?" He asks, just before reaching the archway to the dining room.

"I said, it would be my pleasure."

"Hmm."

Two can play at this game, Marquis.

And even more to come - taglist open!

Next in moineau...

More Marquis, just as it should be.

My HotD series works are not going to be discontinued. The next part to fire like yours will be up next, but don't hold me to it 🖤😉

#marquis de gramont #marquis de gramont imagine #marquis de gramont x reader #marquis vincent de gramont #marquis vincent de gramont x reader #marquis vincent de gramont imagine #john wick 4 #bill skarsgård #bill skarsgård x reader #bill skarsgard imagine #vincent de gramont #vincent de gramont x reader #vincent de gramont imagine

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dazed-and-confused23 · 7 months ago

Text

Dear Hearts and Gentle People 19

Summary: While in Goodneighbor, you find out that Cooper was a famous actor before the war, and ask him to tell you about some of his favorite ones. Much to the amusement to you and Hancock.

Pairings: The Ghoul | Cooper Howard x Female Reader , John Hancock x Female Reader

Warnings! Drinking and Drug Use. Movie references. Fluff and Domestic Fun.

Masterlist

The three of you are drunk as a skunk, high as a kite, and having the time of your life in the old state house that John calls home. You sit curled against the mayor, watching Cooper, who, in his delightful mood, had decided to regale the two of you with movie quotes and scenes that he'd done back before the war. It had started after he'd made a comment about being a better actor than the one they'd been watched on the fuzzy TV screen.

You had laughed and demanded that the ghoul show you a scene or two from the movies that he'd stared in.

Cooper stands across the living room table, a crocodile grin on his face as he quotes one of his films, his accent thick with a southern draw, "You ain't never heard of Wellenbeck prisoner of war camp, West Virginia?"

You shake your head, playing along with the ex-actor, and John snickers beside you, his laugh smokey and rough from the hit of jet he'd just had. Cooper continues, strutting around the room as he tells his story.

"Oh, Major Marquis did more than bust out. Major Marquis had a bright idea. So bright you hafta' wonder why nobody never thought about it before."

He skips over the other dialog, unable to remember half of the other men's lines, and continues. He gives you and John a look under the brim of his hat, "There was a rookie regiment spendin' the overnight in the camp. Forty-seven men... burnt to a crisp. Southern youth, farmers' sons, cream of the crop."

You gasp dramaticly, eyes wide as you clutch your imaginary pearls. Coop had told you a bit about the movie, set sometime just after the first Civil War back in 1877. You wish you could have seen Cooper back then, but this was just as good. The bounty hunter sets the scene, a small pit stop way up in the mountains.

He suddenly switches up, expression becoming a bit feral at the edges as he gives you and John a mean grin. He explains that Major Marquis has them all lined up against the wall after two men died from poisoned coffee. His voice is sarcastic, disbelief coloring it.

"So you finally decided I'm tellin' the truth 'bout bein' the sheriff of Red Rock, huh?"

He steps away from the wall, turning dramatically and stalking forward, hand under his chin as if he is pulling his thoughts together, "John Ruth was one mighty mighty bastard. But the last thing that bastard did before he died was save my goddamn life."

Cooper pauses and points at you, "You didn't. You were sitting there all quiet like when I poured that cup."

He spins on his heel, his duster flapping and his spurs jingling as he paces the room, "Both of you. Just watching me, waiting, waiting for me to drink myself to death. So what was the plan, Joe Cage? I drink the coffee, OB drinks the coffee, and John Ruth drinks the coffee? And you two sit around and laugh while we roll around on the ground, holding our bellies, screaming in pain?"

You and John are hooked after the speech, eyes wide as the two of you watch Cooper stomp across the room, grab a chipped coffee mug, and stalk over to them. You jump when he slams the cup in front of John, a nasty smile on his face.

Cooper pulls out all the stops, reaching for his side arm and aiming it at John, who looks more than a little nervous at having the hand canon pointed at him. The ex-actor mimes pulling back the hammer and then swings the barrel of his gun at the coffee cup, a snarl on his lips as he glares down at you and Hancock.

"Drink it."

Cooper keeps the scene going for several long seconds before breaking character and stepping back, shoving his side arm back in his holster and spreading his arms, a grin on his face, "Well?"

You burst into laughter and clap, snickering at the look of relief on John's face and the self-satisfied one on Cooper’s. The ghoul across from you bows before loping over to the couch and plopping down between you and John. He sits back and lights up a cigarette, smug as can be.

"Told ya, I still had it."

Ps. I own nothing here.

#cooper howard #fallout #fallout prime #fallout tv series #x reader #cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #dear hears and gentle people #john hancock x reader #john hancock #fallout john hancock #movie quotes

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mynameis-noe-body · 1 year ago

Note

Okay, for marquis de gramont we can get reallll toxic. Both the reader and Vincent are angry with each other and are tying to make one another jealous at the event. Because they’re very kinda delulu and possessive they kill the people they're using to make the other jealous and confess their feelings

Thank you so much for this request, my dear anon. I hope you'll love this. 🖤

I am your slave

Marquis Vincent Bisset de Gramont × you (F/GN)

Rating: Teen & Up Audience

Status: Complete (one shot)

Author notes: I used Google translate for the Russian and French sentences. Let me know if it's incorrect!

Obviously. You muttered the word under your breath, chewing its bitter taste, testing its sound on the tip of your tongue as you watched, disarmed, as the Marquis made his triumphal entrance.

The most influential families of the High Table had gathered at the Hotel Mademoiselle de Condé for a gala and business evening. Those weren't rare events, but that didn't make them any less sumptuous. Money flowed freely, as did the champagne, the drugs, the caviar. And the lovers. Yes, they were purchasable too. Women and men of supreme beauty, unattainable, sometimes sons and daughters who were given away, exchanged, lent — everything, in exchange for favors.

But the Marquis — Vincent — never had to ask anyone for anything.

With a gallant gesture he opened the door of his 1970 Cadillac DeVille and offered his arm to a woman. And not yet another high-class whore that he would have refused to touch even with the tip of his little finger, no. The woman who accompanied him that evening was a creature of rare beauty, perhaps someone's protégé. Perhaps his protégé. She was graceful, elegant, she flaunted a cascade of golden curls that would make Venus herself envious. And you, you felt flooded with anger.

"Champagne" you ordered, snapping your fingers. They served you immediately. You too had your power, and you had never hidden it. You knew, deep down, that it was one of the things that attracted him. Your shy elegance fiercely contrasted the anger that could ignite in your heart. The strength of your hands, the fury in your eyes, the power you wielded ruthlessly. Yet, in his arms and in his bed, you were capable of the deepest love, the most total devotion. He was bewitched by it, and inebriated. Therefore, he loved to instigate every jealousy in you, just to have you desperate at the end of the night.

Vincent didn't even glance at you. He shook dozens of hands, ordered food and drinks, laughed with his colleagues and friends. And he ignored you. At least until, from the door of the luxurious hotel, taking off his Armani coat and handing the keys of his Ferrari Portofino to the doorman, Mr. D'Antonio entered.

"Santino!" you exclaimed, with a smile so bright it lighted the entire dining room. Many turned, if only for a moment, to watch you gallop towards the man, with a hem of your beautiful dress grasped between your fingers to reveal crystal heels that echoed off the walls.

Santino opened his arms, and welcomed you with a loud kiss on the cheek. "Meraviglia! Look at you — beautiful, you are beautiful."

Santino was warm, welcoming, purely Italian. And charming, in every aspect of his person. He knew how to make any woman feel like the most beautiful in the world. He gallantly offered you his arm and ordered for you. His laugh was loud, contagious. His exuberant nature amused you. You had been friends for years now. You had worked together, sometimes — often you had worked for him. And he appreciated you. He was generous in his payments. And above all, Vincent was morbidly jealous, because D'Antonio had no qualms about making blatant advances on you, even in front of all those people.

Vincent was daydreaming about murder. God, how he hated him. And yes, he had planned to take that beautiful Parisian home with him, one of the new acquisitions of his organization, now that he saw you... you were his favorite. Oh, bullshit — you were the only one. Since he had met you he had no longer been able to keep faith with his numerous lovers. One by one, they had extinguished his desire, and you had ignited his. Or they were fallen dead, because you killed them. Many of them, to be honest. And every time he learned of one of your murders, his desire to possess you — body and soul — violently took hold of him. He didn't want to give in, not that easily. But now he understood how difficult it was to resist you, while your hand caressed the muscular shoulder of that penniless Italian. That coward. The mere thought that you could enjoy yourself under his fingers made him vomit — so much that he poured what was left of the wine into the boulle and twisted his mouth in a grimace of disgust.

With my bare hands, he thought. He crossed his legs and wrapped himself in his double-breasted jacket, brooding. I want to kill him with my bare hands around his neck. He would have done it. He was Vincent Bisset de Gramont, the Marquis and he could do whatever the fuck he wanted. He could have attached Santino D'Antonio to a pole and set him on fire to make him feel a tenth of the physical pain with which, due to that jealousy, he himself was now burning.

The young woman he had brought with him caressed his face. Or at least, she tried. But he grabbed her wrist before she could touch his cheek. He looked at her with the same hatred. "Go take off that lipstick" he hissed, through clenched teeth. "You look ridiculous."

She obeyed, humiliated, and reached the bathroom. Of course, she didn't expect to meet you anytime soon.

As soon as you saw her walking away towards the toilet, you took your chance, followed her and closed the door behind you with a sharp slam, waiting for her right there, outside her niche. She, surrounded by that shiny hair, those brilliant eyes, those scarlet lips, had raised a single eyebrow in an inquisitive manner.

"And you are?" she asked, passing a cloth over her lips, cleaning them from that bright color.

You inhaled deeply. "You know who I am."

She allowed herself an amused smile. "Ah," she had commented, smugly, "nomer dva."

You thought that, before speaking, she should have made sure that you didn't speak Russian.

▪️▪️▪️

"Dance with me." Vincent took your hand, intertwined his fingers with yours and dragged you before you could respond, or refuse.

He had chased you as soon as you left the bathroom. The Marquis had immediately noticed your flushed chest, your freshly washed hands, your disheveled hair pulled back with a mechanical gesture of your hand, your pupils as narrow as pinpricks. Magnificent. On the dance floor, he had first twirled you once, before grabbing you and holding you against his chest; one hand — the right one — on your back, the lower part, the other intertwined with yours and pressed against his chest, on the beating of his heart. And his face in the corner between your neck and your shoulder.

You huffed, trying to maintain composure. "They're all watching us" you whispered in his ear. He smiled against your skin. "You'll make us look ridiculous in front of the High Table."

"Mon amour. I am the High Table." Vincent left the ghost of a kiss on your neck before making you sway in his arms. Another pirouette, and there you are again in his inevitable grip. "I could order half the men in this room to lick the floor where you walk, and they would do it for me."

You barely held back a small smile. "I can not stand you." But you settled a little more against his chest. The soft, slow music lulled you gently. "And what do you think of Santino? Would he kneel for you too?"

His nails dug into your side, making you flinch. You met his icy eyes in mid-air. So cold, so beautiful. "The Italian. That's it then, you like him."

"He's a charming man."

"He is rude, and vulgar. So pompous."

"And you're not?"

You almost heard him growl. Vincent shot a terrible look at D'Antonio, across the room, who was watching you swing on the dance floor with dark, annoyed eyes.

"You shouldn't be here with me" you added, coldly. "Your woman? Where is she?"

He laughed heartily. "Oh, please. We both know she won't make it out of that bathroom alive. How long did it take you to kill her?"

But you didn't answer. You never responded to his curiosity... it was your game.

Vincent grinned. The kiss on your neck now became passionate. You felt his soft lips caress your skin from your bare shoulder to the tip of your chin with five deep, intense kisses. "You drive me crazy."

This time, you smiled happily. "You are sick."

Vincent looked deadly serious, hovering over you, his back straight and tall to tower over your beautiful figure. "I will have monsieur D'Antonio's raw heart served to me on a silver platter. I will kidnap you, lock you in a dungeon, make you die of hunger and thirst if necessary — anything, as long as you admit the truth."

He was scary. Exciting. Terrifying. Beautiful. You blushed, panting slightly. "What truth? What the hell are you talking about?"

He smiled. He leaned down and whispered in your ear. "That you love me, mon amour."

"I —" yes, you loved him. And you loved the way he made you feel. You loved that hateful jealousy you felt for him, and that he felt for you. You caressed his face with an unexpected sweetness. Your eyes were large, languid. Vincent felt his whole body tremble like never before... "I'll tell you. Not now, though. Tomorrow morning. Now, take me home, and make love to me."

He stopped. He smiled, looking younger than he was. So happy. With a ridiculous low bow, he offered you his hand. "Je suis ton serviteur."

#marquis de gramont #vincent de gramont #Vincent Bisset de Gramont #john wick #john wick fanfic #john wick fandom #marquis de gramont x reader #Vicent de Gramont x you #Marquis De Gramont x you #bill skarsgård

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