#plant crimes au
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An extremely self-indulgent DMBJ AU that keeps niggling at the back of my mind is a âdark underbelly of the rare plant marketâ AU.
Yes, in this context the old generations were all successful poachers.
Either that, or cultivating their own special varieties and getting all cutthroat over those.
These days some are going legit running greenhouses and TC labs⊠but then again, the real expensive stuff is usually still coming directly from the wild.
If you think this canât possibly compare to the stakes and danger and moral dubiousness of the original premise, you donât know how intense people can get about plants.
The monsters are semi-sentient carnivorous plants instead of snakes.
Retired Wu Xie building little greenhouses in his backyard and experimenting with pretty, durable new hybrids.
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Dp x Dc AU: Tucker gets hired by the JL to work on the Watchtowerâs cybersecurity... He might have a few friends visit.Â
Batman looked over the application for visitors presented to him by Dr. Foley, who was nervously wringing his hands but seemed excited to talk about his two close associates, and it appeared that everything was in order for the pair to be allotted a short visitation time slot.Â
The paperwork was established by Batman himself after all, needing a way to permit non-members (His Children) to visit him at his office in the watchtower. Looking over Dr. Foleyâs application, the invites to Dr. D. Fenton and Dr. S. Manson seemed to be somewhat warranted.
Dr. Fenton is a well known astrophysicist and Dr. Foley had been upping the security to reflect more complex physics models as the âlockâ mechanism for access to Watchtower servers. Dr. Manson was a more controversial figure in social justice but a biochemist to rival Dr. Pamela Isley, not to mention she was someone Bruce Wayne had met a number of times and not completely hated (though he was sure she hated him and everyone else in the gala). She was a fan favorite guest by his children and a great advocate for animal and human rights.Â
Batman approves the application, allowing their visitation for a few hours at a time once a week until the completion of Dr. Foleyâs project.Â
He doesnât hear much from it, nor from Dr. Foley, but things start to come down the rumor grapevine that the two guests were more than they seemed. Red Robin was the first to comment on it to him, and as practical and efficient Tim could be, there was a look of chaos in his smile as he discussed the two additional PhDs. He was stingy on details and that always meant something bad for Bruceâs mental health. A few others asked a few questions as to who exactly the pair were visiting, and Cyborg commented that they werenât really doing too much to assist Dr. Foley.Â
Batman decides to intervene and meet these two for himself when he hears Constantine complain (not that the man wasnât always complaining about something) about the two new magic users being way too OP for normal humans.Â
This is how the JL gets to become allied with Ghost King Phantom and Thorn (not Poison Ivy pt.2 as Robin insisted). Turns out they werenât sure if the JL could be trusted with interdimensional politics, so Tucker spent the last two years gaining their trust to let Danny and Sam up here to âcheck the place outâ before they committed to becoming members.Â
Batman doesnât even get to raise alarms at the espionage of it all because Red Robin has already programed their new badges and welcomed them on with open arms and a project to take down the LOAâs Lazarus Pits âsafelyâ.
#dpxdc#dcxdp#dp crossover#dc crossover#danny phantom#tucker gets a job with the JL to do espionage and enjoys the benefits package while hes at it#tucker gets dental and 401k matching while also keeping an eye open for war crimes#tucker 'too fine' foley is thriving (respectfully) when working with wonder woman to get her passwords set up#danny is a huge fan and want to join but sam is adamant that they cant be so sure#sam is connected to the green and goes by the most goth plant hero name i could think of#ghost king danny#everyone in this AU has spent way too much time and money going to school and getting phds#except for tim of course#manson family scholarship is just taking change from her moms purse#chaos gremlin highschool dropout tim drake has already sorted this whole thing out before tucker or bruce could even recognize it
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ORV Characters Ranked by Least to Most Likely to Commit White Collar Crime
You guys said you wanted my ORV takes, and I try not to say things unsolicited, so I'll drop the good meta-analysis and literary criticism that I'm known for. For comedy purposes please pretend that ORV is American.
Omniscent Reader's Viewpoint characters broken down by likelihood to commit white collar crime, least to most:
Lee Hyeonseong: he's convinced that he's never committed a crime in his life. Intentionally, of course not. Unintentionally, he takes shopping for groceries extremely seriously, and is sometimes so wrapped up in the fruit inspection experience that he'll leave without paying. Due to his innocent face, bulk, and sheer confidence, he's never caught. In an economically thrifty maneuver, KDJ always sends him on snack runs for parties and texts him math problems while he's there. He insists it's like couponing. It's not couponing.
Jeong Huiwon: similarly, of course she would never choose to commit a crime. Also similarly, when KDJ says, 'Hey, wanna commit a crime?' she always participates. Since the crime is normally targeted at rich people, KDJ can usually morally justify it to her. She calls this harm reduction. It's not harm reduction.
Lee Jihye: would love to commit a crime in theory, almost never in practice. She has an idealized image in her mind of the ideal high school experience and it involves grand theft auto. However, the worst she ever gets is breaking & entering and trespassing, mostly because she didn't stop to wonder if the building was abandoned or not. She can't even shoplift from Claire's.
Shin Yuseung: the kind of kid who sets the dissection frogs in the school laboratory free. Looks up illegal exotic animal trading on the deepweb and sighs in longing. But exotic pet trading isn't very Animal Rights of her, so she just leaks information to the CIA and busts the rings. Lee Gilyeong convinces her to track down shady sellers on Craigslist and bust their kneecaps. Neither of them view this as significantly different from the dissection frog liberation. KDJ gets her a rescued exotic cat for her birthday as a reward.
Lee Gilyeong: self-explanatory.
Han Suyeong: she's been pirating media since she was eleven and has never stopped. World-class expert in pirating everything. She's the unsung hero who rips the CDs and games and puts them online. Runs the pirating websites. Has never paid for a webnovel or manwha or manga in her life. Despite this, she insists that pirating books is immoral and that people should support small authors. The FBI knows she exists and has been trying to catch her for years. She brags about this constantly.
Yoo Sangah: has committed tax fraud before, will commit tax fraud tomorrow, is currently committing tax fraud. Embezzles her company's embezzlement. Insists that she's only committing victimless crimes, mainly because she doesn't view business executives as people. Her ability to evade the IRS is mythological and it's how KDJ got a crush on her.
Yoo Junghyeok: does not understand adult life well enough to knowingly commit any sort of white collar crime. He is this high on the list because he enables and helps KDJ in literally everything he does, especially using his clout as an influencer. This is because KDJ has convinced him that these things aren't crimes, and he doesn't understand adult life well enough to figure it out.
Kim Dokja: has done every white collar crime under the sun. I can't emphasize enough how much crime he does. He's currently blackmailing SYS's college tuition out of a US Senator. HSY makes the shell companies and launders so much money with him. Alternates between running a pyramid scheme and a ponzi scheme depending on the month. Started a cult that one time but we don't like to talk about that. Runs the betting ring for YJH's esports games. Fixes the games. YJH does not know he does this, but KDJ splits the profits and Yoo Mia also needs a college tuition so he decides not to think about it too hard. Big into crypto and runs every crypto scam you can possibly think of, which is normally where the the ponzi schemes come in. Steals YJH's identity often. Somehow everything he does is technically legal. The only crime he does not commit is pirating. Exclusively targets the wealthy and ultra-wealthy and has never stolen money from a poor person. Sugar daddies all of his friends and pays all college tuitions. Anonymously yet obviously sponsors huge amounts of money to YJH's Twitch streams, mostly in apology for the ID theft. Would really rather be living a quiet life in a big house with all of his friends, but that big house ain't gonna pay for itself.
#omniscient reader's viewpoint#orv#kim dokja#yjh#kdj#orv is about capitalism and systems of power and how they should be broken#and destroying the narratives of the powerful designed to keep us complacent and infighting and bootlicking#fucking shame how nobody's written a leverage au#'why do people tell stories' hope and love and the human condition :)#but also in order to control people determine their futures determine their fates#and even if the story isn't true you can make it true#like the fbi planting coke in black neighborhoods.#also hugely the capitalist exploitation of the entertainment industry#the chinese sweatshop worker makes the idol merchendise for the tired overworked korean#who works for little pay and no credit and overtime in the outsourced korean animation studios#for american cartoons that depressed americans watch because it offers a sliver of joy in our lives#bc the americans are being exploited by fascists and oligarchs#the korean idol is exploited by their superiors and dehumanized by their fans#i should probably make alla that a. different post jklasdf#anyway that's why they do so much crime fuck the system
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This is such a random question, but how would you describe Frank and Eddie's house? Is it a big one, decent sized? I wonder how they decorate the little kiddos room once they get him!
Okay okay but actually I think about this ALL the time
Because I never pictured Frank with a house. I always pictured this little apartment because they live in the city n stuff. Like the whole exposed brick walls kinda vibe but itâs incredibly small and I wanna draw it once I have a moment. But thatâs where Frank lives. Itâs all the space he needs for one person and whatever shitty landlord he has doesnât really come for inspections so itâs pretty easy to hide all the murder junk when he needs to
Eddie on the other hand also has an apartment but I feel like itâs a little larger. Which like doesnât necessarily match their jobs early on but hear me out
Frank is the type to make pretty good money and not buy really big and expensive things. Like his clothing is his nicest stuff aside from purchasing things for murders. Eddie on the other hand doesnât selfishly spend or anything but he puts in a lot of money towards his living space to make it really comfy
#like Frank probably has some house plants and some potted plants out by his window#and he does have his many frames with bugs n things#like itâs homey but at first glance itâs like a bare bones apartment#eddie puts in more effort to make things comfy and make his living space his own special space#and I just know he was happy to drag some of franks things over there because that meant it got to be franks home too#crime puppets au#thing is though neither of them technically had the room for a child I donât think#like I believe Eddie had a small guest room he used for storage if I recall some of my daydreams currently đ#so I think Jamie went in there and Eddie watched him a little more often#oh yeah I picked Jamie btw thatâs the kids name
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my heart wants to make an ace attorney/ ducktales au but theres so much to consider. are hdlw the silly dudes beside the lawyer? are they there all at once? is scrooge the lawyer? is donald a lawyer? is della part of a 7-10 yr old mystery that needs to be solved to solve the present day murder?
#we can fix life and crimes of scrooge mcduck by doing this ^#gladdy is a prosecutor that believes whoever his luck incriminates and fethry is his gov assigned detective#cannot seperate them.#plant talk#if any1 wants to add on or anything plz do#ducktales au#lena is like. a PERFECT character to be a defendent#like in a This Character will be Relevent later#like gina tbh#launchpad would fit perfectly as an aa witness honestly the vibes fit here as well
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For the Dual Swords AU I remember on your 2nd post on the Dual Swords AU tag was that there would be a UNDERGROUND CITY OMG because of the absolute corruption running deeper than in the original. And that peacekeepers go down thereâ down where? Where would the entrance be to the underground city.... and probably, most definitely "keep the bad out" KILL I MEAN
And regarding their uniform... does that mean Yuma is boyish kinda guy with those shorts and stockings? Because Makoto changed his to trousers so it's clear they have a choice on what they want to wear in their uniform or notâ does that mean Yuma is for that boyish style?!?!? đ«Ł also hello! I'm back again after months Probs :3
Oh yeah, the corruption is far worse than in-game. As Shinigami has stated in Chapter 5, âif Yomi was the CEO, the city would be in much worse shape.â And I actually had a discussion with one of the Rain Code community members during their Chapter 5 second playthrough that if Yomi was in charge of Kanai Ward, there would be more Mystery Labyrinths than in-game. Which means more criminals and murderers out and about in the city. Basically making Kanai Ward more Gotham City than a dystopian London-Cyberpunk hybrid city (basing off the inspirations Kodaka has mentioned when he made Kanai Ward). Good for Yomi since he can use the many dead bodies to benefit his connection with the Unified Government, and make the Peacekeepers look like Kanai Wardâs protectors. Though he has to try to manage the criminal activities and murders, or otherwise he would be out of citizens to rule over.
To answer your questions, the first one is that it would technically be more of a mix between living in the Riverbank, the sewers, and the Dohya District (itâs not a large area, but itâs something at least for them). The term âunderground cityâ can kind of be referred to more as both a literal and a figurative term used.
For your second question, yeah, the Peacekeepers would go down to the Underground City to make sure none of the criminals or rebels try to taint their city, as Yomi would put it. The scenes that would play out would kind of be like a book I read where a group of police force/heroes would go down to the slums and harass the people there to keep them in their places (and being arrogant about it because they have the power to do so without consequences and still be looked at as the heroes). Itâs why Shachi leans even more into not using violence because itâs clear it would give Amaterasu the reason to attack the entire Slums, but also much more cautious.
As for the last question, yes thatâs exactly what I was thinking when I saw Makotoâs designs back then. I thought he was wearing trousers as well (kind of similar to his suit) so I thought it would be a good way to differentiate the two and give them personal touches. Since I imagine Makoto would absolutely want to make sure there is differences between the two brothers.
#master detective archives: rain code#rain code#master detective archives spoilers#rain code spoilers#rain code au#dual swords au#yuma kokohead#makoto kagutsuchi#itâs honestly interesting how Makoto planted the seed to Kanai Ward falling to corruption#and then Yomi comes into power and makes the city into a living Hell#with him as the ruler with an iron fist#meanwhile poor Yakou has to practically walk on eggshells in Kanai Ward now just so he can stay alive#since his rival Yomi is in a position of power where he can off him whenever he wants to#the only reason he hasnât is because heâs not dumb enough to kill him for petty reasons#lest he wants the WDO on him for the mysterious death of their Kanai Ward contact#which is why he still uses Yakou to kill Huesca for him since Yakou would have committed a crime and the WDO would cut ties with him#also welcome back anon
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*grabs my ocs on the top of the head like theyâre in virtual families and drags them into a new genre for my bedtime story*
#ravenpuff writes#brb reclaiming a story I started writing *years* ago in the before times#that I lost because of reasons by sticking my ocs into it#saving the basic idea but rewriting the details to fit them which is honestly fun#we all knew it was a matter of time before the Misfits became a crime crew anyways#Also good news this Blaine can still fit so much trauma in him#itâs also fun because I havenât decided on a solid Connor and Alex dynamic yet and now Iâm exploring it in this au setting and Iâm hoping it#will give me ideas for the future#anyways if you see me posting about theoretical Misfit soulmate marks later just accept it#Con gives out makes that are all shiny. Like theyâre a silvery blue but they reflect light and look shiny at certain angles#Alex gives out marks that are a deep rich purple mixed with a color that reminds him of each person#Teddy gives out PokĂ©mon marks (because Teddiursa tehe funny)#Benâs are all plants. cause nerd#Josh and James always give tattoos that go in pairs#like Blaine gets Arielâs locket around one ankle from Josh#and Arielâs voice coming out of it wrapped around the other ankle#from Josh#Leo always gives out constellations#Charlieâs tattoos always are a fading red/orange/yellow like fire#Juliusâs are always music related#*I meant soulmarks not tattoos it is late#anyways Iâve been thinking about this a lot itâs fun#Like their roles!! Juls and Charlie gets to be demolition experts#but also along with Oli they create most of the tech the#crew uses and they modify weapons to make them cooler#Alex is really really fucking good at doing stealth stuff. between him and Mason Grace they are the sneakiest team around#Connor knows so much about every single weapon and always knows the best one for the job.#Blaine? Heâs one of big guns. because of his time in the agency before this he knows how to run a mission and be effective#heâs not afraid to#go in guns blazing and yet always makes it out alive. he knows what heâs doing. he trained for years for this.
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Everyone lives au where after the war Commander Fox gets arrested for killing Chancellor Palpatine, who never did anything wrong in his life, ever. Fox pleads guilty and requests execution.
Unfortunately for him, the entire Coruscant Guard has been planing for this (along with other possible scenarios) for years. Theyâve put together a legal team of clones who got online degrees in law, whose main defense is that government property canât be convicted of murder. The Republicâs reps claim that Fox is a person and therefore absolutely can do murder, so they whip out a dictionary and read the definition for slavery.
The trial gets derailed by all the accusations leveled at the government, which are all true. Mountains of evidence are brought in, literly. Several large filing cabinets are dragged into the room filled to the brim with tax statements, photos, documents, contracts ect exposing not only the deep corruption through the entire senate, but also provides enough information to jail at least half the senate.
Itâs broadcast on live tv and is the most watched event in history.
Fox keeps trying to get the death sentence. He has no intention of actually dying tho (he plans to fake it and retire to run a crew of con artists and steal from the ultra wealthy.) Fox confesses to murdering multiple people, but each time evidence places him far away from the scene of the crime, usually because Fox himself planted that evidence and now his extreme competence is biting him in the ass.
The fact that Palpatine was a Sith Lord, was planing on taking over the republic, working with the separatists, and that he started the war are not brought up at all. All crimes brought up are things like grooming children or embezzlement.
#star wars#commander fox#the clone wars#tcw#coruscant guard#unhinged fox au#industrial cement mixer leads them to victory#no order 66
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Shen Yuan Shixiong au, but he is at a weird place in the time line and accidentally starts a new peak as a teenager while LuĂČ BÄ«nghĂ© is already in Qing Jing
It is the flowers peak- botany peak- crimes against humanity peak (if he's being honest). Mu Qingfang knows how to heal the human body and use medical herbs. Shen Yuan knows how to curse the human body and manipulate medical herbs
Everyone knows medicine is just poison in deliberate quantities, so they have a symbiotic relationship. Shen Qingqiu is low-key mad this kid is stealing his place as the guy with ridiculous quantities of knowledge for questionable purposes
Walking in this new peak unannounced is about as dangerous as falling into the endless abyss. They have frost forming flowers (that can freeze over an entire human body in five seconds) cooling plants from the Northern Desert of the demon realm. They have plants that suck acid from the soil to manage pH levels (but spit that acid if disturbed). They have a soap bearing plant (luĂČ BÄ«nghĂ© used it once to clean up before papapa) that is sucking up bases. They have mist shooting plants (mild hallucinogen, but they also have airway and throat coating fruit by the door to that greenhouse which prevents it being absorbed) for humidity
In a world where sex-pollen flowers rule the land, Shen Yuan is working to rule them, which, quite frankly, no one considered possible. This man claims he has never been sex-pollened, and no one quite believes him. But, well... he's never shown up at Qian Cao and no one is brave enough to test him using the virginity detecting sword
This all started from Shen Yuan, at the time a passable quqin player on Qing Jing, discovering a flower mentioned only on one page of one addition of PIDW, which he always thought would be useful for defense against aphrodisiacs due to its mind clearing properties, yet which was never brought up again. He proceeds to save one of his shimeis from a highly embarrassing incident
He is profusely thanked for his quick thinking, but Qing Jing isn't interested and the flower is too finicky to keep up a stock on Qian Cao. Shen Yuan, deeply fearing another incident and having a bit too much time on his hands, decides to set up his own garden on a small peak considered too contaminated to use for anything but long term storage. Things escalate
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hitman au save me .. its been seven years ..
havenât been able to draw/write much of this au lately but i want to write a few little scene snippets i have stored my brain :âD ill include them under cut
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âThis better be something good,â Scar muttered to Cub as they stepped out of the elevator. The hitman, while bound to his contract, considered âboringâ missions to be a waste of his time.
âI hope so,â Cub hummed. âHope so.â
The ConVex swung open the doors to the NHO conference room, not bothering to check if their bosses were actually ready for their meeting.
âHoly mother ofâ! Knock next time, will you?â A man setting files down on the conference table jumped visibly as the doors slammed open.
âThe Vex require a dramatic entrance, Beef,â Scar said casually. Cub snickered.
âSure, whatever.â Beef furrowed his brow, used to this behavior. He didnât have time for this. âOkay. Doc was supposed to do this briefing, but heâs busy with his machines I guess, because of course he is, so.â He huffed, composing himself. âYour new top-secret project. This oneâs a doozy. Have a look.â
Beef slid the folder across the table. The hitmen flipped it open, absorbing its contents with hungry eyes.
What caught their eyes immediately were the photos. The person of interest looked nothing like a powerful crime boss or a dangerous anomaly. A young adult with glasses, dark eyes and short, sandy brown hair stared back at them.
âWhoâs this?â Scar raised an eyebrow. Is the NHO asking them to assassinate some normal-looking university student?
âThat is Grian,â Beef explained, both hands planted firmly on the table. âGrian has been with us at the NHO for months.â
âIâve never seen him before,â Scar remarked.
âGrianâs case is top-secret. Heâs been staying in high-security, private quarters⊠as well as our research laboratories.â
âI thought you guys seemed super suspicious lately! I knew they were hiding something from us, Cub,â Scar nudged his partner with a grin. Cub did not budge as his sharp eyes combed through the documents. He hadnât heard a single word spoken to him.
âCub? Whatâs the deal?â Scar asked. He preferred to let Cub read their mission files and summarize it for him, anyways. Dyslexia and top-secret government files were not a great mix. Oh, what would he do without Cub?
âWatchers?â Cub finally spoke, looking up at Beef with a quizzical frown. The other man nodded slowly. âYouâre kidding.â
âAfter months of testing and analysis, we can confirm that this individual is the only currently documented case of a mortal possessing Watcher abilities,â Beef nodded slowly.
Scar had heard whispers of the Watchers only a handful of times. As a vex, he knew plenty about the realm of magic, the divine, the fae, you name it! But Watchers were said to be ancient entities, perhaps as old as time itself. So old that they were widely considered to be a myth.
âSo this is not a hit,â Scar said after a moment.
âThis is not a hit, Scar, good lord, do not kill this person,â Beef put both hands on his forehead and let them slowly drag down his face.
âMortal, you say?â Cub raised an eyebrow.
âYep,â Beef said. âShe was a completely normal citizen until he got these abilities in some freak accident. Lucky for everyone involved, the NHO was able to take control of the situation before anything⊠dangerous happened.â
âSo,â Scar narrowed his eyes slightly, âIf this isnât a hit, then what do you want from us?â
Beef sighed. âAfter months of testing to determine Grianâs situation, the NHO has decided that he is too important to return to life as a normal citizen at this time. Instead, weâd like to utilize his abilities in our goals to maintain order in Hermit City, and we need someone to train her how to be a special agent in the field.â
âYou want the ConVex to train a Watcher how to be a hitman,â Cub said with a slight smirk at just how insane that sounded.
âYep.â
âHuh.â Scar put both hands on his hips. âWell, thatâs not what I was expecting.â
âI suppose we could give it a shot,â Cub said. Although the ConVex were bound by a fae contract to work for the NHO, the vex took every opportunity to feign control over their situation. There was no choice here. Beef had given them an order.
âSure, sure! We are very good at our jobs, after all,â Scar grinned. Whatever happened, good or bad, would at least be entertaining, surely.
âYouâll come back here to meet her tomorrow morning,â Beef instructed. âHand me that file back and be here by 9, will you?â
âSure thing,â Cub replied coolly, sliding the file back to the man. Scar couldnât help but grin wider when he noticed Cubâs hand casually in his pants pocket, some folded white paper barely visible in his grip.
âDonât be late. Iâm serious this time,â Beef called out as the hitmen turned and exited the conference room.
=+=
The conference room was tense that morning. Towards the end of the table sat the NHO - Beef, Doc, Etho, and Bdubs. On one side sat Cub and Scar. Across from them, Grian sat alone.
âSo, how about introductions?â Doc clapped his hands together. âEr⊠Cub and Scar, this is Grian. Grian, this is Cub and Scar. You guys already know the deal. Grian is going to come with you on missions from now on.â
The ConVex hadnât taken their eyes off of Grian since they entered the room, unable to resist their curiosity. They had both read the files, but still found it hard to believe the person before them was a Watcher. Grian sat rigid in his chair, fiddling with his hands, looking tense and exhausted. She eyed the vex curiously as well.
âWell hello there,â Scar greeted. âIâm Scar, and this is Cub.â
âHey, hey,â Cub said quietly.
âHello,â The corner of Grianâs mouth twitched in a possible attempt at a smile.
The three continued to stare at each other until Bdubs cleared his throat.
âWonderful introduction. Now that weâve broken the ice, letâs talk about your next mission.â The man picked up a small remote, and the large screen on the wall behind them illuminated.
âBefore we send our agents out into the field, we meet like this to discuss the details and ensure that the mission is clearly understood,â Doc explained to Grian, throwing a disapproving glare in the ConVexâs direction.
A lengthy file on some high-profile criminal appeared on the screen, as Bdubs proceeded to read off the information. Scar slumped back in his chair. These mission briefings were the worst. It was time to zone out and have Cub tell him the details later with all the fluff cut out.
At about ten minutes in, Scar yawned absentmindedly.
âOh, are we boring you, sir?â Doc interrupted Bdubs to shoot a piercing stare at Scar.
âOh, not at all!â Scar said cheerfully, but slumping in his chair slightly lower.
âAs I was saying,â Bdubs continued loudly.
Scar glanced over at Grian. Her eyes quickly darted back to the presentation when they made eye contact. Scar looked over at Cub and found he had still not taken his eyes off of Grian. Hopefully Cub was at least somewhat paying attention, because he sure wasnât.
Grian continued to fidget with his hands. Scar felt a pang of pity for him. The vex were used to this sort of environment, but according to the NHO, Grian had a completely normal life up until a few months ago. Now suddenly, he gains these terrifying powers and spends months in a top-secret lab having tests run on her all day. Who wouldnât be overwhelmed?
Scar yawned again, this time more intentionally. He earned another death glare from Doc, but Bdubs droned on. He glanced over and saw Grian rubbing a hand on his cheek to help hide a grin.
The art of annoying your boss was a delicate one. Timing is everything. Let enough time pass until theyâve forgotten, or they think youâve stopped, to continue the game. Scar lets about ten minutes pass before his next yawn, bigger this time.
âQuit it,â Beef hissed. Even Etho glanced over. Doc kept his eyes on the screen, but his jaw was clenched. Grian let out a cough that sounded suspiciously like a laugh.
Five minutes later, Cub clears his throat rather loudly. Bdubs stutters over his words for a second, but because Cub is Cub, none of the NHO seems to be able to tell if that was a deliberate cough or not, and they decide to ignore it. Cub shows no emotion.
After an hour that felt like an eternity of Bdubs explaining every possible detail about the case, it seemed to be almost concluded. That was, until a rather loud yawn was heard throughout the conference room.
âWILL YOU LET ME FINISH, FOR GOODNESS SAKE?!â Bdubs finally erupted, whipping around in his chair to face Cub and Scar.
The hitmen stared back blankly. They glanced over across the table, and Bdubs followed their gaze, where Grian sat with both arms over her head in a large stretch.
âSorry,â Grian said simply when all eyes were on him, lowering his arms. âJust had to stretch a bit.â He stared back at Bdubs innocently.
The NHO stood there, confused. Bdubs was at a loss for words, unable to get a read on the new recruit. He sighed and turned back to the screen. âWell, regardless, I think weâve about summed things up,â he grumbled.
Scar made eye contact with Grian once again. The two cracked a smile at one another for a second, too quick for the NHO to notice.
Scar had a feeling that him, Cub and Grian were going to get along just fine.
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#if i write more scenes ill probably combine them into one big fic that is just. random chau scenes part 57 or whatever#im better at writing silly character interactions than big plot stuff <- not a writer#convexian hitman au#grian#cubfan135#goodtimeswithscar#chau#hermitcraft#sketchbook#art tag#convex#grub#desert duo#cubrian
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I would love five more facts about the DMBJ crew as exotic plant specialists. :D
So this is a one-step-closer-to-mundane AU where the really big world-ending stuff like the Ultimate isn't present and the Wang aren't as ancient (though still something of a death cult as I'll mention below), but just an other, if outstandingly ruthless, party on the black market. They are just as enthusiastic about sabotage and infiltration as ever, but here they use it to snag industry secrets* and kill the competition's stock. The almighty Algorythm is mostly used to predict and manipulate the market.
Their (and the Zhang's) quest for immortality is still low-key on though, because if you're gonna hang your life on plants you might also take an interest in their medicinal uses, be it the traditional approach or experimenting in a laboratory.
The man-eating cypress is still a thing though, here the results of some really wild Soviet-era** experiments that first got out of hand then out of the lab. So are a batch of mutant, weirdly intelligent giant Drosera. Getting caught on a giant sticky-trap that slowly folds in on you as it digests you is probably not the way you want to go. And those are just the ones that still by and large resemble an identifiable plant genus. This also connects to the little immortality project of the Zhang and the Wang.
Xinyue is an auction house that specialises in very old, very special bonsai, but they also deal with the kind of orchids you can't even look at without having to pay your life savings.
For most of his life Xiaoge didn't exactly have the luxury of preferences or even opinions. For the longest time Wu Xie suspected he didn't like plants at all. Still, after the Iron Triangle retired and settled down, the brightest windowsills were slowly taken over by tiny succulents which neither Pangzi nor Wu Xie remembered bringing in, which left only one suspect. None of these plants were anything special, just bog-standard species like jade plant, Aloe, some Euphorbia and cacti, no special colouration or anything... just. Small, cute chubby plants, just because.
*Someone lifted your tissue culture protocols? Ah whoops, did your priceless mother plant got watered with sulphuric acid? But not before getting a haircut for propagation? What a bummer, sooo sorry to hear that!
**The experiments were carried out somewhere in the SU but the horrors it created now lurk all over Europe and Asia.
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it always ends with i love you ft. wriothesley â in which you, a small floral shop owner, meet the duke of meropide by a chance encounterâand then you meet a bunch more tooâŠbut not so much by chance anymore
contains: 20.3k work count (please give it a chance i put my soul into it) ; female reader ; mature contentânot suitable for minors ; strangers to friends to lovers ; flower shop au + florist reader ; reader has a small backstory regarding her dead father ; use of canon flowers and and lore, meaning i did my best so please be gentle on me with my botany facts ; heavy spoilers for wriothesleyâs story quest and backstory, explores themes such as murder and hints at child exploitation and traffickingâall pertaining to his adopted home life ; slight ocâs because i gave a few of his adopted siblings names ; a fun neuvillette and clorinde appearance! ; a not so fun childe appearance + jealousy ; a short argument ; love confessions and getting together ; wriothesley is scared of love (anyone who had to kill their parents should be tbh) ; reader sits on his lap/lays on him ; thereâs sex in every scene lol i got carried awayâincludes vaginal fingering ; cunnilingus ; nipple play ; hand + blow jobs ; unprotected vaginal sex ; creampie
the first time you meet wriothesley is by accident.
he doesnât exactly come up to the surface regularlyâhe sees the sun frequently enough to remember what sunlight feels like if he tries to recall, but not enough that most people of fontaine would know heâs the duke of meropide just by looking at him.
he likes it that way. the duke is no small title, and heâd prefer the trip through the streets of the court without being stopped for idle chit-chat.
he doesnât intend on stopping on his way to the palais, but youâre a bit of a unique circumstance.
he hears the smashing sound of something breaking before the scream, quickly glancing over his shoulder at the noise. nothing could have prepared him for a flower shop to be the source of such chaosâwhat could be chaotic about selling petals on a stem?
except youâre clumsily chasing after a man as he stumbles past your door, knocking over the potted plants on display in the process as you follow him.
the look of distress on your face as the pot falls and shatters compels him to investigate the scene. (of course, thereâs a note of distress on your face before the pot falls, but the way it deepens when it does is almost criminal. your face is too lovely to have such creases in your forehead, even if he wonât admit as much out loud).
âstop! please,â you call, âyou havenât paid for those!â
thievery. wriothesley knows a thing or two about pocketing things that donât belong to him.
first, itâs because he spends a portion of his life on the streets, surviving more than living. those moments reduce him down to a simple pocket thief at times. (he had standards for his crimes: never too much and only enough to survive for a bit. always from someone who dresses expensively and looks like theyâre comfortable enough not to feel the damage to their wallets. and, of course, never from women).
second, itâs because people, on the streets or in the fortress, love to steal from those who are weak and vulnerable. people who are sleeping are of that classification of individuals, so wriothesley learns how to keep his things hidden and how to be a light sleeper. heâs never had too many things that are precious to him, of course, but he owns little enough that heâd notice his losses harshly should they come.
he hates thievery. partly because it reminds him of his past and the darkness that taints it, but mostly because it always involves someone innocent who doesnât deserve to lose. not even a little.
his feet carry him over to the scene before he can stop himselfânot that he would stop himself even if he did have control over his body, but itâs just that this particular circumstance seems to have him in some sort of trance. one that wonât allow him to look away from your face.
âplease,â you follow the man past your shopâs door, âthose are the last of my glaze liliesâi promised them in an order!â
the man running doesnât seem to care about your pleas, snickering as he turns to give you an amused look, as if your distress is entertaining. he doesnât make it far, though, before he bumps into a muscled chest.
âwhat theââ
wriothesley cuts him off, raising a brow. âi do believe the lovely lady here has asked for her flowers back. or did you miss that part?â
âand just who do you think you are, mister?â the man barks, glaring wriothesley up and down. (itâs a bit funny, considering heâs much shorter, so it takes a tad bit of effort on his part to give wriothesley the menacing once over itâs meant to be). âi donât remember asking you what she asked.â
âoh me?â wriothesley cracks his knuckles casually, shrugging as he says, âduke of meropide at your service. i must say, iâm not very popular around hereânot a lot of people know me, it seems.â
your jaw drops. the manâs face palesâwhich is a nice confirmation, at least, that he does have some sort of a brain.
âw-what? and just why would i believe that? you expect me to think the fortressâs duke is just prancing around the streets as if he hasnât got duties? as if!â
wriothesleyâs lips quirk up at the edges as he hums, fishing through the pocket of his shirt before he pulls out an envelope, sealed with the stamp of the iudex himself. thereâs writing on it in clear letters, bold and italicized, as if just to mock the man.
to: duke wriothesley
from: iudex neuvillette
âthat clear things up for you?â wriothesley asks, traces of a cheeky glint in his eyes as he raises a brow.
instantly, the man is clasping his hands, head bowing as a string of incoherent apologies flows past his shaky lips. âi-iâm sorry! iâve never done anything like this before, you can check! my records are clean! i-it was a moment of weakness, but it wonât happen again, sir. p-please donât take me to monsieur neuvillette. or court. orââ
âyour first thieving gig, and you picked flowers?â wriothesley snorts, âi almost donât want to bring you to court just save myself from the embarrassment.â
the man flushes, bashfully shrinking as he mumbles, âw-well i justâŠi just wanted to get flowers for my girlfriend for our anniversary and theseâŠth-theyâre her favorite you know? b-but theyâre hard to come by since liyue is so far andâŠand the lady wouldnât sell them to me soâŠyou knowâŠi uhâŠâ the man trails off, wilting as wriothesleyâs stares down, unimpressed. âi promised her iâd get them,â he adds, as if itâll help.
âwhat a tragic sob story you got there,â wriothesley deadpans. âyour girlfriend must love your honesty.â
âif i may interrupt,â you call from behind, making both men glance over to where you stand some distance away.
wriothesley forgot you were there, truthfully. but now that heâs taking in your appearance up closer, he canât help but appreciate it. your features complement each other wellâlike an assortment of carefully arranged flowers, hand-picked one by one by celestia themselves.
âhello miss,â he nods, raising a hand to half-wave at you, âdonât worry, iâll get this man out of your hair in a moment with your flowers too. just give me a secââ
âno,â you say softly, âno itâs okay. he can keep some of themâŠiâm sure i can make do with a shorter hand than usual.â
he blinks. you couldnât have possibly offered to let your thief keep his earnings at your expense, could you? he canât decide if you're just that naive, just that foolish, or truly just that kind.
maybe all three, if heâs being honest.
âuhâŠare you sure?â he tilts his head in disbelief, âyou want to let him keep the flowers?â
âpartially,â you confirm, âitâs alright. everyone deserves flowers on their anniversary. especially their favorite.â
wriothesley decides youâre just that kindâand in some ways, itâs worse than being a bit on the naive side. at least you can sharpen yourself to become untrusting and skeptical if naivety gets you in trouble. kindness is as easy to take advantage of as it is to take for granted, and itâs not just something people like you can turn off like a switch.
âoh, thank you!â the man exclaims as soon as the words come out of your mouth, not wasting a second to grin at you as he says, âyouâre really so kind! if youâd just tell the duke here that it was all a misunderstanding and that youâd like to drop all charges, then iâll be on my way with partial the flowersââ
âmake no mistake,â your hands find your hips as your face hardens with a certain strictness even heâs a bit startled by, âif you should come here and cause trouble again, i have the dukeâs word to press double the charges next time. i would tread carefully if i were youâdonât ever let me catch you stealing from me again.â
wriothesley stares at you and gapes. heâs sorely mistaken about youâkindness is not the absence of your spitefulness, and the man shrinks back as you stare down at him expectantly.
âo-of course,â he says quickly, âit wonât happen again.â
âgood,â you nod, âthatâll be five hundred mora, please.â
âb-butââ
âis there a problem?â you raise a menacing brow, making the man scramble to shake his head.Â
âwow,â wriothesley snorts as the man scampers off after fishing enough mora from his pockets, âi suppose i underestimated your ability to handle the situation, miss.â
âi think i owe a good portion of my success to you, your grace,â you bow your head slightly, unable to meet his eyes as you nervously chuckle, âi donât usually have robberies. the people in this area are familiar with me. theyâre quite kindâiâve never had someone as stubborn as him.â
âwell, rest assured, if he bothers you again, you can come to find me for my word at court.â
âiâll hold onto the offer,â you grin.
that chance meeting becomes history after a while. he comes and pays you a visit every time heâs at the surface, which isnât all too often, but often enough that you start to look forward to at least one routine visit per month. sometimes, he teases you about whether or not youâve had new thieves pay you a visit. other times, you make use of his strong hands and built muscles and cheekily order him around to move heavy bags of fertilizer around.Â
he likes tea, you learnâhe takes a very piqued interest in the jars of dried petals you keep on shelves, ones you tell him are good for making blends for tea, or to boil with water for natural remedies, or to make syrups for beverages like lemonade. itâs a slow, steady, blossoming friendship until, all at once, you feel incomplete without the routine visit from the fortressâs warden. youâre too reliant on the familiarity of explaining flowers, their origins, what stories they share, and what they meanâand likewise, you feel incomplete without his stories from the fortress, what the inmates are up to, and what changes heâs developing to make things better for the people under his wing.Â
you like to think he feels the same way; otherwise, he wouldnât come around as much as he does.Â
sometimes he walks you home, and sometimes you invite him for tea. you drink coffee, but you donât mind the trouble of brewing two beverages if it means some extra time with him in your cozy little home.
like today, where he sits comfortably at your dining table while you cut fresh bulle fruit as tea steeps in the hot water. he watches you with fond eyes, listening as you ramble intently about your recent endeavors at your flower shop.
ââand i think iâve finally managed to grow a cactus from sumeru long enough to bloom my own henna berries,â you grin, looking at him brightly, pride settling into the crinkles of your eyes, âit did take some trial and errorâfontaine rains far too often for cacti to survive, but this one i managed to grow indoors.â
âcouldnât you just get the berries delivered from sumeru? since you have plenty delivered from there already,â he asks in amusement. you huff, rolling your eyes as you walk over, setting the platter of fruit down before him.Â
âof course, youâd want to take such a simple routeâbut plants are far more rewarding when you grow them yourself, you know. plus, every fruit iâve managed to grow on my own here in fontaine has had a bit of a unique flavor as opposed to ones grown from their original nation. iâd like to see if thatâs the case with these berries, too.â
âwell, if thatâs the case,â he hums, taking a slow sip from the tea youâve brewed for himâitâs perfectly made to his liking, with two sugar cubes and piping hot just as youâve learned he prefers. he closes his eyes and lets out a content sigh as the warmth trickles down his throat. âlet me try one when theyâre ready.â
âof course,â you brighten excitedly, as though the prospect of someone to share such a moment with is one you look forward to. thereâs something that tickles in his chest, right beneath his ribcage, at the sight of your wide grin.
you chatter until the sun sets, warm, honeyed rays of orange and pink pouring through your windows and painting his skin vibrant hues. itâs about time for him to leaveâyou can tell even before he clears his throat and stands, grabbing the plate and mug and heading to the sink.
âi should go,â he says kindly, washing the dishes with so much familiarity that it almost feels domestic and natural to have him here. you shake the thought out of your head as quickly as it enters your head. âthank you for having me this evening.â
âoh, i think weâre past the formalities,â you huff a small laugh, âyouâre doing my dishes.â
âtechnically theyâre my dishes,â he chuckles, âsince i did dirty them.â
you hum, walking over to where he stands as he turns the faucet offâuntil a small twist of your ankle has you gasping as you stumble forward. you brace yourself for the impact of the hardwood floor, but instead, youâre met with a firm yet soft chest as strong arms wrap around your waist and catch you before you can fall.
âoh,â you breathe as you open your eyes, staring into him with just as widened pupils as him.Â
âare you okay?â he asks quietly, voice just barely audible as he whispers to youâheâs so close, so painfully close, you think the only reason you heard him was because of the proximity.Â
âyeah,â you nod. itâs hardly a nod, reallyâif you were to move your head too much, youâd risk brushing your nose against his. or maybe even your lips. âiâm fine. thank you.â
âyeah, no problem,â his eyes are still trained on yours, and neither of you can find it in yourselves to pull away. you canât, and he definitely doesnât, and nothing seems to give as you stare at each other. youâre pressed against his chest, and his arms are wrapped around you, and thereâs a strange beating in both of your chests that you think you can just barely make out.
they almost seem to beat in sync, rapid and untamed. so, so fast, you wonder if itâs even healthy.
you donât know who does it firstâor maybe it was the both of you. all you know is that one second, youâre staring at each other, and the next, your heads are tilted so that your lips meet tentatively. he hesitates at the first brush of your lips, but your hands cup his cheeks and pull him forward, making his eyes flutter shut as he shakily breathes into your mouth. itâs so slow, so dizzyingly slow, that you wonder if time has just stopped altogether to grant you a moment with no interruptions.Â
he fits perfectly against you, the soft flesh of his cheeks spilling over your palms, your thumb rubbing affectionately into the skin as he nips at your lips, kissing you like heâs waited his whole life to feel you. the curves of his mouth connect with the curves of yours like pieces of a puzzle, like he was carved to match you from the same stone.Â
youâre not sure how long you kiss like that, but slowly, it grows needier, more quick and hasty as your hands leave his cheeks to wander to his hair and gently tug at the strands as his hands wander to your waist and lower back, feeling every curve of you as he groans into your mouth.Â
he tries to pull away, but you chase after him, unwilling to let go.
âw-wait,â he mumbles, âmaybe we should stopââ
âyou really want to?â you ask breathlessly, and all it takes is one glance down at your glossy, swollen lips for him to close his eyes and shiver.
âno,â he admits hoarsely, âi donât. areâŠare you sure about this?â
âyes,â you whisper instantly.
he doesnât waste a moment, quickly pulling you into your bedroom as you both collapse on the mattress. you climb onto his lap, crotch pressing against the semi-hardened erection in his pants, the press of your heat against his bulge earning a low, drawn-out groan from him that shoots straight to your clit with a dull ache.Â
âsweetheart,â he says in between kisses, making you inhale sharply at the pet name, âyouâre killing me here.â
âokay,â you smile against his mouth, pecking it sweetly before you add, âthen let me do something about that.â
he doesnât expect you to drop down between his legs, face to face with the obvious tent in his pantsâwriothesley is a gentleman, a giver before he is a taker. his first instinct is to protest as he opens his mouth and starts to say, âhang onâyou donât have toââ
âi want to,â you pout, looking up at him, âplease? i want to.â
when was the last time someone looked up at him like that, staring up at him like pleasing him is the only way theyâll survive? he doesnât recall, doesnât think itâs ever happened, in fact. he groans, head falling back against your bed frame as he nods slowly.Â
âokay,â he concedes, lifting his hips up so you can pull his pants down his legs, leaving him in his boxers. thereâs a wet patch where his tip meets the cloth, the evidence of pre cum drooling from his swollen head that makes you hum in satisfaction as you leave a tender kiss on the spot through the fabric. he gasps, hips jolting as his thighs clench at the teasing touch.
âcan i?â you purr, hand rubbing soothingly over his tense thigh as he swallows and nods, looking anywhere but at you as he breathes harshly.Â
ây-yes,â he grunts, âplease.â
youâre freeing his cock as soon as he utters the plead, letting him spring free and meet the cool air. he hisses, gritting his teeth as his chest rises and falls erratically, labored breaths that he tries to use to calm himself as he stands painfully hard between his legs.Â
âpretty,â you murmur, entranced at the sheer size of himâheâs flushed an almost painful red at his thick tip, leaking enough pre cum that youâd think he might have already had his release with the way it runs down the side of his hardened length.Â
your hand wraps gently around the tip, thumb smearing the pre cum along the tip before coating the rest of his cock, using it as lubrication for the steady stroke of your hand along the girth. he throws his head back, groaning as his hips buck into your touch before he stops himself, frantically trying to keep himself still and let you take your time.Â
âf-fuck,â he rasps, âthatâŠthat feels nice.â
âyeah?â you breathe, smiling as you press a kiss to his thigh as he chokes on a grunt while your hand slowly pumps him. âam i doing it right?â
âyouâre doing just fine,â he assures, biting his lip as he finally canât keep himself from bucking impatiently into your fist any longer, âfeel free to do more, though.â
you giggle, pressing a soft kiss to his lip before gliding your tongue through his slit and watching as he melts against your bed frame at the gesture, body loosening up like heâs limbless as you slowly take him into your mouth, swallowing around his cock and bobbing your head, pumping the rest with your hand that you canât fit down your throat.Â
âshit,â he curses, hand cupping the back of your head as he guides you up and down his length, moaning your name when you swirl your tongue around the tip, âyouâŠyouâre so good at this, yeah? take me so well in that pretty mouth of yours.â
you hum around him, making him cry out at the vibrations around his cock, one hand running through his hair as he tries to keep himself grounded, the other still cradling the back of your head. heâs a gentleman, though, living up to one just as much as he always lets on to be when he doesnât force you to take more of him by pushing your head down or burying himself deeper into your throat by fucking his hips into your mouth. he lets you do things at your own pace, and you think itâs enough when you feel the telling signs of his release as his panting grows harsher and his cock twitches in your mouth.
âw-wait, wait,â he says frantically, âiâll cumâiâll cum. not yet, not until i have you.â
you reluctantly pull away, a trail of spit connecting from your lips to his tip that makes him close his eyes and groan, clenching his jaw as his near-orgasm dies down to nothing again. his cock is achingly hard, hot and swollen and throbbing after denying himself for the sake of feeling you.
âcâmere,â he motions for you to climb onto his lap. you do, sitting on his thigh as he slowly trails a thumb under your shirt, rubbing the skin with a feather-light, heated touch that has you shivering against him. âyou sure you want this?â
âi want it,â you whisper, leaning to press a kiss to his lips that he reciprocates with a low hum of approval, âwith you.â
âsuch a sweet way with words,â he murmurs, slowly pulling your blouse over your head and unclasping your bra, tossing them to the side as he marvels at the view of your tits. âsuch a sweet view, too. beautiful.âÂ
you flush at the praise, looking away. but his hands grab at your breasts, large as they cup them and massage lightly, thumbs running over the pert nipples as you shudder and breathe out a light gasp.Â
âwriothesley, need moreââ
âgive me a moment,â he shushes you, âand then iâll give you what you want.â
he admires you like that for a bit, sat on his thigh as your eyes flutter shut and his thumbs tease your nipples, wetness pooling in your core that he can feel on his thighâyouâd be embarrassed, you really would, but itâs not as though his cock is any less leaky at the head.Â
finally, he inhales sharply, sitting up slightly to unbutton his shirt, revealing the scars down his chest before he helps you out of your pants. you stare at the harsh, jagged lines that pain his skin, raised, discolored skin, the only evidence of some brutal, vicious past that he survived.Â
your thumb traces down the lines, making him shiver at the fragileness behind the touch.
âwhereâd you get this?â you murmur, staring at him curiously.Â
âhmm? oh the scar on my body? it's from a gash i got while battling a gigantic undersea monster that tried to take over the fortress of meropideâŠâ he stares at you cheekily as you blink, looking at him unimpressed. âhah, just kidding.â
âdo you ever take anything seriously?â you shake your head and huff, but thereâs endearment on your face as you fight back a smile.
âon the contrary, milady,â he murmurs, grabbing your hips and pulling you back slightly, exposing your drenched cunt before he slowly sinks two fingers into your folds and curls them against the back of your walls, âi take this quite seriously.â
you gasp at the feeling, his digits rubbing against your walls and angling to hit a sensitive, achingly sweet spot at the back of your cunt. itâs precise, the way he pumps his fingers into you, slowly sinking in a third digit while you mewl and throw your head back. the heel of his palm catches against your clit, the sweet friction building your orgasm up slowly, slowly, until suddenly, youâre near the edge all at once.Â
âcâmon, donât hold back now,â he drawls, voice low and sweet and so attractive, you feel like the sound of him alone is enough to send you tumbling over the edge, âwhy donât you be a sweet little thing and let go for me, hm?â
you doâinstantly, you do, crying out his name is choked garbles as he works you through your orgasm with his fingers, still thrusting into you with a precise pace. finally, when youâre done clenching around him, he pulls his digits out, the slickness of your pussy coating them as he hums in satisfaction.Â
âthink youâre ready?â he asks softly, cradling the back of your head with his good hand as he pulls you closer, âor do you need one more from me?â
âiâm ready,â you huff impatiently, âi need you, need to feel you already.â
âokay, okay,â he laughs, amused but not anymore patient himself as his cock pulses between his legs, âiâm not trying to wait any longer, either. do you have aâŠuhâŠy-you knowâŠâ
you snort at the way he trails off awkwardly, flushing at the thought of asking for a condom as if heâs not completely nude under you. âno,â you giggle, pinching his cheek as he huffs, âbut we donât need one. itâs fine.â
âokay,â he nods slowly. his hands grab at your hips, firm yet so gentle with the way they lift you up and guide you to angle over his swollen cock, slowly helping you sink down on him as he chokes on a grunt when his head pushes past your folds.Â
you gasp as soon as he intrudes into your tight hole, splitting you open on his thick girth as you take him inch by inch until youâre sat on his lap completely, buried completely with his length as his jaw clenches at the tight squeeze of you around him.Â
âwriâwriothesley,â you sob brokenly, unable to say anything else besides cracked repeats of his name. heâs so big, buried so deep, and leaving you so full, youâre not sure if you have it in you to fuck onto him from this position.Â
he takes things into his own hands, thoughâroughly grabbing your hips and pulling you back before helping you sink back down on him again, rolling his own hips upward to bury deeper into you. your head spins, and all you can think to do is weakly plant your hands onto his shoulders before you roll your hips, grinding down on his length and sloppily fucking yourself onto him.
he bullies past your folds, curves deliciously into the most intimate parts of you, fat tip slamming against the soft, sensitive spot that makes you see white. pleasure burns up your spine, building a coil in your belly that grows tighter, tighter, tighterâso close yet so far from snapping and letting you plummet into your second release.Â
âthatâs it,â he grunts, âfuckâyouâre so tight, so good. iâveâŠiâve never felt anything so good. itâs like you were made for me, werenât you? take me so well, fit around me so well.â
his hand moves to your clit, thumb pressing against the sensitive bundle of nerves and rubbing merciless circles against it as you mewl, head burying into his neck as your nails claw at his shoulder. everything is so goodâso hot and filthy and leaves you impatiently desperate for some form of release. the friction of his cock dragging along every ridge leaves your mind hazed, and the harsh press of his tip against your sweet spot leaves your vision blurry.Â
youâre not sure how you even have the strength to rock yourself onto his stiff length, but somehow you manage, and he seems keen on helping you, too, with rough, bruising hands that grip your waist with a punishingly tight grasp.
âc-canât hold on much longer,â you cry, voice a strangled sob thatâs muffled into his skin, âiâm s-so close. please.â
âme too,â he pants, voice just as strained as yours as he moans through a cracked voice when you clench down on his particularly tightly, âme too, sweetheart. iâm right there with you, alright? let goâc-câmon.â
once more, you cum around himâthis time on his cock instead of his fingers, and if the first time felt good, the second time is devastating. your vision practically goes white as your walls spasm around him, slick and dripping with your release and mixing with his own as he follows you not long after. his cock jolts, pumping hot, sticky ropes of his seed deep into you, and both of your bodies are slumped against one another as you barely roll your hips, sloppy pace with no rhythm as you focus on getting yourselves through the ecstasies of your orgasms.Â
his thumb is still pressing against your clit, and your hands have left his shoulders to bury into his sweaty hair, tugging fiercely at the dark strands and making him groan at the mix of pain and pleasure.Â
finally, you both ride out the final few waves, him slumping against your bed as you fall against his sturdy chest, face still buried into his neck. sweat clings to your skin, but you donât mind the feeling of his damp skin against yours, not when the warmth of your body makes the afterglow feel so sweet. your fingers thread through his hair, soothing over his scalp with the rake of your nails where youâd just tugged so harshly, and his palms glide up and down your hips, rubbing gentleness back into the parts where he dug bruises along the skin.Â
âwait, is that watering can supposed to be a dog?â he asks out of the blue, making you lift your head and look over your shoulder.
âyes,â you quirk a brow, watching as he lets out a small snort as he looks at the watering can by your plants in wonder.
âitâs pretty ugly.â
ârude!â you gasp, pulling away slightly as he shakes under you in laughter, âi think itâs adorable!â
âdo you now?â he bites his lips, attempting to suppress the smile that threatens to take over, âyou haveâŠinteresting taste.â
âoh, youâre dead to me,â you spit dramatically, collapsing back against his chest as you bury your head into his neck again. âdead to me, i say.â
âmy apologies,â he snickers. his hand rubs slowly into your hip, quietly humming for a moment before he asks, âwhat made you so passionate about plants?â
âi canât just really like them?â you challenge.
âsure,â he shrugs, eyeing the watering can again as he smiles, âbut you donât give the impression that you just happen to just really like leaves, and thatâs it.â
âthereâs more to plants than leaves,â you scoff, rolling your eyes. and then, much gentler this time, âmy father was a scholar from sumeru. an herbologist.â your voice is a quiet murmur, a low hum as you speak into his neck while his hands are still rubbing into your hips, âi used to be fascinated by his journals and all the plants heâd seen. he died when i was young, so sometimesâŠsometimes i try to grow them here in fontaine myself. just to feel close to him.â
âdo you?â he asks quietly, staring at the various plants that decorate your small home. itâs cozy, he thinks, so lively and warm that it almost doesnât feel like youâre the only inhabitant. âdo you feel close to him when you do?â
âif it works,â you admit, âitâs not always easy to recreate the same conditions theyâre meant to grow in.â
âi think you do an impressive job,â he praises, earning a slow smile from you that he can feel curve into his skin, âiâve yet to come across a flower shop in fontaine with as much variety as yours.â
âyou flatter me, your grace,â you chuckle, pulling away as you stare at him, the tousled hair from where his hand ran through, the swollen bottom lip where his teeth sank in, the flushed skin where heat settled. you take all of it in slowly, admiring him as he looks up at you through lidded eyes.
âdo i? i meant it seriously, not in flattery,â he raises a brow and smirks, âif i wanted to try flattery on you, i think iâd have some other choice words.â
âdonât be so insatiable,â you gently swat at his chest, earning a chuckle from him. âwill you be able to stop by tomorrow?â
âiâm afraid not,â he sighs, âi have a meeting with some people from the palais tomorrow at the fortress. itâll run a bit late.â
âoh,â you try to hide the disappointment in your voice, but he seems to sense it instantly. âthatâs okay. i just had a blend i thought you might like to tryâfor tea, that is. itâs umâŠi dried the petals myself, and itâs new. i thought iâd let you be the first to try it to let me know what you think.â
you try not to giggle at the way he perks up at the mention of tea.
âah, iâm afraid i wonât have time tomorrow. butâŠâ he coughs, trailing off as he looks away, contemplating his words.
âbutâŠ?â you press.
âbutâŠwell, i have a few guards returning tomorrow from the surface from a few tasks i gave them. i could have them stop by the shop to escort you down to the fortress if that works for youâŠitâs okay if you canât, though! i can always come by sometime this week when my duties arenât asââ
âthat sounds nice,â you cut him off, grinning widely, something close to excitement blooming across your features, brighter than any set of petals in your shop, he thinks. âyou can give me an official tour of the fortress, perhaps. iâve only ever heard about it through stories.â
âas you wish, my lady,â he winks.
he leaves not too long afterâyou try not to focus on his lingering scent in your sheets once you settle back in after bidding him goodbye. itâs oddly peaceful, being surrounded by him even when heâs not there, and sleep lulls over you quicker than usual.Â
the scent is faded by the time you wake up, so you take one last deep breath to inhale it before you set off to get ready for the day, counting down the hours before you get to see him again.
ââââââââââ
as promised, a group of fortress guards stop by your shop, politely waiting for you to close up before you join them on their return.Â
the fortress is darker than you expectedâbut not at all as small as your mind anticipated. in fact, itâs huge. you follow the guards, making idle chatter as they take you up an elevator, up, and up, and upâuntil finally, you finally arrive on the floor of his office.Â
youâre so busy taking in all you can of the fortress that by the time they escort you to his office door, you remember why youâre here in the first place. to bring wriothesley dried petals of sweet flowers that you grew yourselfâflowers often make for a wonderful tea blend, and learning his passionate liking for the drink makes you feel compelled to share with him every one of the various floral teas youâve learned about in your time as a florist.Â
you knock on the door of his officeâexcept, oddly enough, thereâs more than one voice you can make out from the room. you didnât think his meeting would still be in session by the time you arrived, making you anxiously regret the knock as soon as your knuckles leave the surface of the door. Â
but he answers before you can think too much of it. âcome in,â his voice calls.Â
âyour grace,â you hum, stepping in, âif this is a bad time, then i canâŠâ
you trail off. both fontaineâs chief justice and champion duelist stand in his office, gathered around his desk as he sits and sifts through files. of course, wriothesley is a duke, which is no small title by any means, but youâre caught more than a little off guard as you step in and share the room with two of fontaineâs more important figures in the justice system.
âno,â he says casually, âcome in, youâre right on time. i was just telling miss clorinde about the delicious tea blend you would bring for her to try. she couldnât wait a moment longer.â
âif you want to try it so badly, just say so,â she rolls her eyes.
âfine,â he huffs, lips curling into a slight pout, âiâd like to try the tea you promised me. clorinde will pass, though.â
âi think iâll try it, as well,â she chimes in, suppressing a smile as wriothesley crosses his arms.
âbut you just saidââ
you giggle, walking over as you hand him the bag with dried petals, grinning at the amusing dynamic, and murmur, âi believe it would be the polite thing to do if you made an extra cup for the madam while making yours.â
âpicking her side, are we? such an act of betrayal wonât be forgotten,â he huffs. still, almost as excited as a child opening a present, he opens the bag to add the petals to the tea maker he keeps at his desk. you watch with fondness at the action. âyou still owe me a present, by the way. and tea wonât doâiâve just received a batch.â
âthen i suppose i can gift you a new tie,â clorinde hums, eyeing the loosened tie around his neck and making him furrow his brows as he subconsciously straightens it, âsomething that fits your neck better so you look a bit more put together.â
itâs almost like she sees through the both of you, eyeing between you and him with a hint of a knowing glint in her eyes. wriothesley scowls, giving her a petulant glare.
âthereâs nothing wrong with my tie. i look just fine.â
âi do believe itâs a stylistic choice,â neuvillette pipes up from the side, âit doesnât seem to be an issue with the tie itself.â
you snort at the way the joke flies over his head. âyouâre right, monsieur,â you join in the banter, âi do believe his grace has a ratherâŠunique choice of style.â
âi wonder if he ever plans to properly wear the coat he always seems to keep hanging over his shoulders,â clorinde adds, the earlier grin she attempted to fight back now fully curled into her lips. you laugh, much to wriothesleyâs dismay.
âperhaps he just values being prepared,â you hum, âone can never tell when the fortress will suddenly be too cold. someone as busy as the duke surely canât afford the wasted time to go and fetch a coat.â
âah,â she nods, âi suppose youâre right. he is too busy learning legal codes as of late.â
âi take it that my gift has been useful, then?â neuvillette brightens, turning to a miserable wriothesley as he rubs his temples wearily.
âmost helpful,â he sighs, not bothering to explain to the iudex that heâs once more missed the point of the joke.Â
âoh, weâre only joking,â you laugh, taking the tea cup sitting at his desk and pouring him a glass of the now freshly brewed tea, âitâs all in good fun, your grace.â
âwriothesley is just fine,â he mumbles, âas you can see, this isnât a veryâŠformal meeting.âÂ
he watches as you carefully make his cup, one sugar cube as opposed to his usual twoâbefore he can point it out, however, you beat him to it. âi know youâre particular about your tea. i can see it on your face youâre about to insist i give you two, but this is a very sweet blend as it is. one will suffice.â
âcareful when it comes to his tea,â clorinde warns, âheâll be in a foul mood all day if it doesnât live up to his standards.â
ânot true,â he grumbles. as if to prove a point, he takes a sip, slowly blinking before he looks at you with an awed grin, âitâs lovely. youâre right, it is just perfectly sweet with one cube.â
âperhaps youâre the only person he wonât make a fuss with then,â clorinde teases, âheâs got quite the list of grievances if i make him a cup of tea.â
âthatâs because you donât know how to make proper tea,â wriothesley rolls his eyes, âthereâs a set of steps youâre meant to follow, you know.â
âwater is a most simple beverage,â the iudex cuts in, âone that has many complexities in flavor, as well. perhaps you should consider it as a fitting option if tea gives you too much trouble.â
âi would hate to think of the wrath the poor inmates would have to face if he were to miss a single tea time,â you grin, fighting back a chuckle as wriothesley takes a tired sip from his cup, resigning himself to his fate as the target of your banter, âwater simply wonât do.â
âwell, i believe we should be off,â clorinde looks at neuvillette, âperhaps we should leave them to themselves.â
âah, yes,â the chief justice nods politely, âthere are many more files for me to read through at the office.â
âdo you ever take the day off?â wriothesley raises a brow, âwouldnât hurt.â
âeven his dreams are of legal cases, iâm sure. he wouldnât last a day on vacation,â clorinde hums.
âi donât typically dream when i sleep,â neuvillette frowns, still so serious that you choke on a snort as you try to hold back you giggles. wriothesley looks at you with an amused grin, biting his lip to hide a chuckle himself.
âiâll be seeing you,â he waves as the two leave, âand hopefully with my present ready next time,â he calls to clorinde with a pointed look. she rolls her eyes, fondly waving as she heads out the door.
âi didnât know you were friends with such important people,â you murmur as they leave, making him raise a brow as he takes another sip.
âfriends isnât the best title for itâconsider us work acquaintances.â
âwith banter like that, i hardly believe it,â you chuckle, earning you a half-hearted glare from him over the rim of his tea cup.
âdid you have your fun at my expense?â he asks drylyâbut thereâs no real bite to the words, âit seems you got along quite well with clorinde.â
âmonsieur neuvillette is lovely too,â you giggle, âeven if heâs not exactlyâŠthe earliest to catch onto jokes.â
he laughs at that, setting down his empty cup as he stands, eyeing the door to his office quickly before stepping closer to you, eyes staring down at your lips as you chew on the bottom and wait for him to make his move.Â
âthank you for the tea,â he murmurs lowly, lips just barely a millimeter away from yours, âit was quite sweet. i enjoyed it.â
âthere are plenty of other floral blends i have for you to try,â you hum.Â
he grins, hands finding your waist before he whispers, âsurely i couldnât take all that from you without offering something in return, could i? i wouldnât want it to seem like i'm taking bribes.â
âoh?â you breathe, grabbing a hold of his tie and tugging him closer until your lips meet his in a slow, heated kiss. it awakens a sick, insatiable heat in your core almost instantly. âwhat did you have in mind, your grace?â
he groans at the way your voice teasingly lilts at the title, hungrily chasing after your lips again. itâs more tongue than it is anything, messy and almost too scandalous to take place in his office where anyone could knock and come in at a momentâs notice. he seems to know it, too, because slowly, he guides you backward, slow steps that donât interrupt the lock of your lips until your back meets a door.
âwhy donât i show you,â he breathesâand then the doorknob is twisted open, and youâre gently pushed in with an arm curled around your waist to guide you. thereâs a bedroom connected to his office, you realize.Â
not entirely a shockâyouâre sure the duke of the fortress has his own quarters to sleep in away from the other inmates, but it doesnât surprise you less enough that you donât pull away to take a glance around.Â
itâs empty, mainly. not too many things besides a few scattered files and another tea maker with a few cups surrounding it at a desk in the corner. the sheets are dark grey, plain, and neatly made, with two pillows and nothing else. it has no more than what he needs, no more than whatâs necessary. no hints of anything thatâs his, anything that makes the room belong to him outside of being a mere sleeping quarters.Â
ânot one for decor?â you hum, wrapping your arms around his neck as your fingers fiddle with the collar of his shirt.
âi only come here at night to sleep,â he shrugs, ânever felt the need.â
âeveryone needs a space thatâs theirs, donât you think? even a few flowers would brighten the place up.â
âoffering me more business?â he chuckles, making you roll your eyes, âand theyâd die. there isnât much sun down here.â
âi can think of a few options that would thrive,â you murmur.
âso it is business,â he quips. sigh exasperatedly, and he grins cheekily at you before youâre gently pushed to fall onto his bed, his body moving to hover over you as your legs wrap around his waist. his cock is semi-hard through his pants, and you wiggle your hips to press against it, the friction making him groan as you feel him stiffen even more from your actions.Â
âi think iâd like my payment now,â you hum, making him raise a brow.
âeager?â he asks, making your hand travel to squeeze at his bulge.
âand you arenât?â you challenge.
âfuck,â he grunts, shuddering at the feeling, âlooks like you got me.â
it happens faster than you can processâthe shedding of clothes, the way his fingers slowly sink into you, pumping in and out expertly as your head spins from the way he brushes against your sensitive spots. heâs quick, the way he stretches you apart with his digits, adding a second and third finger with little to no time to waste. you hardly have time to accommodate the third when you feel a familiar ache building up steadily.Â
âc-close,â you say shakily, voice brokenly whispering against his mouth as he drinks up your moans, âiâm going toââ
âi know,â he hums, âshh. just let goâyouâre doing so well.âÂ
the praise shatters youâyou break at the way he sounds so in awe of you, of the way you suck his fingers into your slick cunt, so tight and wet with every clench. your back arches, and your hips roll into his hand, whimpering as his palm rolls over your sensitive clit. âgod,â you gasp, âwriothesley, please.â
âplease what?â he drawls, âyou already got what you needed.â
âplease let me feel you.â
âsuch a demanding price for some tea,â he sighs, âalright. i guess i can afford it.â
the nudge of his cock against your folds is enough to make you mewl, a sweet, whiny little cry that he groans atâevery sound you make leaves an ache shooting up his stiff cock in the form of a twitch, like your every cry calls out to him. he responds with a rough thrust of his hips, burying himself into the depths of you, so deep and so close you can practically feel his pulse alongside yours.Â
âso full,â you gasp, panting as you try to adjust to the sheer girth of him. he waits a moment, jaw clenched and teeth grit as he waits for you to nod your head and signal him to move.
âand youâre so tight,â he grunts, moaning softly against your ear as he nibbles on your earlobe, âi wouldnât mind it if you charged interest either, just so you know. iâll pay it over as many times as you want.â
âoh be quiet, would you?â you roll your eyes at his words at first, but then they roll back at the feeling of his thick, swollen tip pressing against the deep, sweet spot in the back of your walls. he lets out a breathy laugh, kissing the corner of your mouth so he doesnât muffle the precious little moan you let out.Â
âsure thing,â he hums, âi like listening to you more, anyway.â
âoh,â you gasp, âohâwriothesley!â his finger teases over your clit, making your walls quiver around him as you feel your second orgasm creep up on you. âw-waitâiâm close.â
âwhy would i wait?â he asks in amusement, âthatâs the idea.â
ât-together,â you whimper, pouting up at him through swollen lips and watery eyes, âplease. please.â
he curses, closing his eyes and inhaling shakily at the way you look so fucked out, so drunkenly hazed on pleasure from the drag of his cock along your every ridge. you ask so sweetlyâand who is he to deny such an innocent request?
âfuckâokay, sweetheart. fine by me,â he pants, rolling his hips harshly as he works himself to his own orgasm. his thumb teases your clit cruelly, fast and merciless one second, and a slow, bare featherâs touch the next. it keeps you right on the edge, a drooling mess of broken pleas as he finally approaches his own high. âclose?â
âso close,â you gasp, twitching as he buries himself deep into you again.
âme too,â his voice cracks, âc-cum with meâplease.â
hearing him plead sends you over the edge againâyour first orgasm pales in comparison to your second. you didnât even think that was possible, but the thick of his cock bullying into you is infinitely better than his nimble digits. the blunt head hits all the right spots, curves in all the right angles, and fucks you through your high expertly without even trying.Â
you both cry out each other's names like prayers, muffled strings of curses, and breathy gasps that you swallow up between slow, sloppy, open-mouthed kisses. finally, when the last few twitches of his cock finish painting his release into you, he slumps on the bed beside your body, body shaking in slight tremors as he catches his breath.Â
âyou okay?â he asks through a labored voice, âdidnât hurt you?â
âiâm okay,â you breathe, smiling softly. he closes his eyes, relaxing into the mattress, pulling the covers to tuck the both of you in before he stares up at the ceiling, arms folded behind his head while he seems to be deep in thought. âwhatâre you thinking about?â you murmur.
âjust how good you got along with clorinde,â he hums quietly, almost in wonder. âsheâs not exactly the easiest to banter with so quickly.â
âwell, i guess itâs not too hard if itâs at your expense,â you tease.
âah, yes,â he sighs, pretending to woefully shake his head, âiâve been reduced to the butt of the joke one too many times today, it seems.â
he grins to himself at the sound of your quiet laughter, so soft and sweet, so perfectly filling up the quietness in the room, bouncing off the walls and ringing in his ears like a symphony. you stare up at the ceiling yourself, eyeing the pipes, the dark amber metal that makes up his home. itâs quiet like that for a bitânot awkward or uneasy, almost like youâve known him for ages. almost like this is natural.
âcan i ask you something?â you murmur after some time, shifting under the covers to face him.Â
he raises a brow, looking at you curiously. âyouâre scaring me with that look. going to confess some wicked crime you want me to help you hide?â
âitâs not like that,â you huff, rolling your eyes. carefully, as if treading unknown territories (you are, in all fairness), your fingers find his bicep, running along the skin soothingly. itâs an affectionate touchâyou and wriothesley only touch each other for physical pleasure, nothing more. this is new, something youâre freshly navigating with a weak compass that points back and forth between your heart and your head, unsure whether to follow logic or emotion.Â
âwell, go ahead and ask,â he insists, âyouâve got me curious, anyway.â
âwhatâŠwhat did you serve for? when you were an inmate,â you say quietly. he tenses under your touch, muscles becoming rigid as you instantly regret the question. your fingers pull away at the same time as you start speaking, âitâs okay if you donât want to answer! i just got curious andââ
his hand catches your retreating wrist, gently pulling it closer, closer, until your hand rests on his chest. this is definitely uncharted territoryâbut his hand firmly lays over yours as he presses your palm over his bare chest.Â
âitâs fine,â he mumbles, âitâs not exactly something people in my inner circle donât know.â
âoh,â you whisper, âiâve been promoted to inner circle, huh?â
âyouâve seen me naked,â he snorts, eyeing you with a hint of amused disbelief, âyouâve sucked me off, in fact. i think thereâs a special other circle inside the circle just for you.â
âokay, no need to get allâŠâ
âall what?â he teases, waiting for you to finish.
âall uncouth about our activities!â you huff, face feeling hot as he grins.
he laughs, wrapping an arm around you, pulling you against his side so your cheek presses against a muscled pec as his warm hand traces circles into your hip. you gasp slightly at the sudden gesture but relax all too quickly, your own hand moving to rub into his chest slowly, feeling the rough scars and tracing them with your fingertips.
âi was adopted when i was young from an orphanage. when i was a bit older,â he swallows, voice quiet, seriousâso oddly vulnerable, you think youâre talking to a new version of him altogether, âi found a diary in my motherâs drawer. i didnâtâŠi didnât mean to snoop. i was just looking for some paper for my sister to color with.â
âyou had a sister?â you ask softly, looking up to see his jaw tighten slightly.Â
âi had quite a few siblings,â he admits, voice strained. âolder and younger. my parents would adopt a few children at a time and raise them until they were old enough to be adopted into families of greater means. and then theyâd adopt more younger children. i thought they were perfect parents,â his eyes stare off distantly, unfocused as they look up at the ceiling, hand mindlessly wandering along your hip as you listen.
âuntilâŠ?â
âuntil i read that diary,â his voice hardens, still strained as he clenches his jaw and swallows thickly again, âthey were records. of my older siblings, the ones i thought were adopted off. all of their names were followed by prices, and the ones who didnât have prices had been crossed off. i didnât understand until i saw my own name and my brother antoineâs. we had blank spaces next to ours.â
âhow come?â you furrow your brows, looking at him in jarred curiosity.Â
âbecause we werenât sold yet,â he smiles ruefully, âi realized we were being sold off like livestock. and i started to piece together why i had never heard from any of my siblings even when theyâd promised to write. iâŠi never knew what became of them.â
âoh, wriothesley,â you say gently, so delicate, he closes his eyes and lets out a shaky breath. you press a soft kiss to his chest under you, hand moving up to cup his cheek, âwhat awful people.â
âiâŠi should have kept it to myself,â he whispers shakily, âi didnâtâŠi couldnât figure out what to do, so i told antoineâi thoughtâŠi figured maybeâŠâ he trails off, eyes closed once more as he breathes heavily, trying to collect the composure he fights so fiercely to keep.
âitâs okay,â you kiss his jaw, âwe can forget about it. iâm sorry forââ
âno,â he shakes his head. âi want you to know.â
it should make you feel specialâmaybe even a little happy that he trusts you enough to want to share. but nothing about this makes you feel anything but painâyou can feel his pain, every inch of it. from the way his hand clasps around your waist in a shaky grip to ground himself to the way his jaw is tight under your lips as they press a soothing kiss to the angle of it. every part of him is in pain, and you can feel it. deep in your own bones, like a lingering ache. one that runs years deep, living in the deepest, most intimate parts of your body.
you donât mind it, though. you donât mind sharing his pain, not if itâs him.
âokay,â you nod slowly, âokay.â
he inhales sharply, taking a deep breath before he continues. âi told him because i knew we were next. i thought maybe we could have figured out a plan together. but he asked my mother about the diary, what the prices meant, and why weâd never heard from the others once theyâd left. he was gone the next morningâmy mother told us he was adopted, but i knew. i knew he was merely disposed of. and it was my fault.â
âit was not your fault,â you turn your head swiftly, looking up at him in disbelief as he scoffs and shakes his head.
âif i hadnât told him, if i handled it on my ownââ
âthen what? he would have been fine? you donât know that, what if he was sold off for something awful? or found out on his own without you? you were a child, and you didnât know that heâd choose to do that.â
âbut i still could have kept quiet,â he chuckles dryly, voice cracking as he adds, âi could have gotten us both out of there. on my own.â
âyou shouldnât have to have done it on your own,â you cup his cheek, bringing him to face you as your forehead presses against his, âyou didnât want to be on your own, did you?â
âno,â he admits, lips trembling, âi didnât.â
âand thatâs okay,â you murmur, rubbing a thumb over his cheekbone, âyou didnât deserve to be alone.â
âmaybe it was for the better, though,â he sniffles.
âa lot of things are. we canât hope to predict everything for what would turn out better.â
âhe died,â wriothesley chokes, âmy brother. he died that nightâiâŠi knew he did. so i ran the next day, when my parents were busy, i snuck off and ran. i didnât come back until a few years later and iâŠâ his breath catches in his throat, glancing at you for a moment. thereâs something fleeting in his eyes. doubt, maybeâperhaps even fear.
youâre not entirely sure, but you press a kiss to his lips, soft and tender, so unlike your usual heated ones. something thatâs shared not for the sake of pleasure but for the sake of knowing youâre thereâthat he has you. youâre both here, together, just the two of you. he can feel your warmth, and you can feel his.Â
it eases the tension somewhat, making his rigid muscles relax as he pulls you closer.Â
you pull away first, murmuring a soft, âi donât care what you did. whatever it is.â
âyou say that now,â he chuckles weakly, âbut you donât even know what i did.â
âi donât care,â you say seriously, âi donât. whatever you did, it was because you didnât have a choice.â
âi killed them,â he says against your mouth, such harsh, dark words that donât belong against your soft, pure lipsâhe thinks he might have just tainted them. almost like you know his thoughts, you prove you donât care when you peck his mouth lightly. âi killed them and set the other children free.â
âyou were just a kid,â you breathe, âa baby.â
âa teenager,â he huffs a laugh hoarsely, âmaybe not that young.â
âa baby to me,â you say firmly, âno one that young should be pushed to such extreme methods.â
âyouâre oddly calm about sharing a bed with a murderer. was the sex that good?â
you roll over, laying on top of him, pulling a soft oof from his lipsâyou know itâs exaggerated. heâs strong and broad under you, capable of taking your weight and then some as his hands find your waist to keep you in place, eyes boring into yours. so bare and so easy for you to look into, to read, to see so plainly for all he is.Â
he doesnât even blinkâas if heâs offering himself to you, trusting you to see as much as you want, see as much of him as he can show you.Â
âis that all you see yourself as? a murderer?â you ask seriously.
âof course not,â he denies, breathing softly into your hands as they cradle his face, âbut itâs the part of me that matters most. that defines me the most. whether i want it to or not.â
ânot to me,â you shake your head, âand not to you either, i can tell.â
âi know why i did it,â he tells you, staring at you so intensely, you feel like maybe heâs seeing you more than youâre seeing him, âi did it for my siblings. because i knew it was the only way to get them out. no one else would do a thing. but when you strip my title as duke from me, whether you put me in the underworld or put me in the overworld, i am a murderer. that wonât change.â
âand?â you raise a brow, âdo you regret it? what you did?â
ânever,â he says instantly. he means it. âbut iâm aware of what i am to others. what they see me as. iâm not naive enough to believe my past will go away.â
âand it shouldnât,â you shake your head, âi donât think it should. i donât think murder is what matters most about youâi think a child raised like livestock, betrayed, and taken advantage of, matters most. a boy who willingly gave up his freedom so his siblings would have theirs is what matters most. a man who served his time and chose to stay so he could make things better for everyone who followed is what matters. death was a kind fate for your parents, wriothesleyâi for one, believe there were more fitting fates for them. far crueler ones than a peaceful demise.â
he chuckles at that last part, staring at you in wonder, in slight amusement, in so much awe that you almost feel shy.
ânow iâm really questioning if the sex was that goodâyouâre really rationalizing my crimes, arenât you?â
âoh, youâre such an asshole, do you know that?â you huff, âi think thatâs what defines you best. a complete, utter, shameless asshoâoh.â
he kisses youâabruptly so. his lips are pressed hard and firm against you, kissing with so much conviction, so much need, youâd think that you were disintegrating in his arms, that this was his last opportunity to kiss you and commit how you feel to memory.Â
âyou sure itâs not my stamina?â he wiggles his brows, âhow about myââ
âiâll see to it that this is the last time we ever engage in such activities if thatâs all you can focus onââ
âokay, okay,â he laughs, pouting as he pulls you down to lay on him, your head tucking under his chin as he kisses the crown of your head, âenough sex jokes. i promise.â
âso crass,â you scold, âhave some decorum, will you?â
âmy apologies, milady,â he sighs regretfully, voice exaggerated and theatrical as he adds, âi wonât allow myself to forget my manners again. from here on out, iâll make sure to discuss moreâŠgentlemanly topics for your liking.â
âyouâre a real handful,â you sigh, âpoor sigewinne. such a sweet little angel to put up with the likes of you.â
âyou met her?â he smiles fondly at the mention of her.
âbriefly, yes,â you nod, âthe poor thing must be tired of your antics.â
âiâm on my best behavior around her!â he insists, âyou can ask her.â
âi donât think sheâll vouch for you, you know.â
âyeah, youâre probably right,â he withers in defeat.
you giggle, kissing his collarbone softly before nuzzling against him as he relaxes. itâs comfortably silent, just your body against his, warmth seeping between the space that hardly separates your bodies, spreading across your skin. you share your heat, and he shares his. it lulls you, slowly but surely, and you can feel it lull him, too as his breath slowly evens out under you.Â
sleep is just a breath away from clutching you when you mumble, âwriothesley?â
âhmm?â comes his sleepy hum.
âthank you,â you whisper, yawning, âfor trusting me. enough to tell me.â
âgo to sleep,â he grunts tiredly, âyou can be sappy and sentimental in the morning.â
âokay,â you grin tiredly, pressing closer into him, âiâll hold you to it.â
sleep comes quickly after thatâso easy, so natural in his arms, you wonder how youâve rested all these years without him.Â
ââââââââââ
your routine to meet with wriothesley ebbs and flows between the surface and the fortress. sometimes, he stops by just like before, and sometimes, he sends for guards to fetch you when heâs too busy to make an appearance himself. your meetings more or less end the sameâcatching your breath together, bare bodies huddled together in a tired mess as you share quiet, whispered words into each otherâs skin. itâs a routine that both of you are too used to by now, that even a short gap of not seeing each other makes the both of you impatient for the next time youâll get to see each other.Â
on days you canât afford to see each other, your days at the shop drag by slower when all you can do is think about him. sometimes, the guards will be relieved to come to escort you, woefully expressing the awful mood the duke has been in, shuddering as they recall how unpleasant he is to be around when heâs unhappy. they seem to insist your visits are what help end his supposed awful temperamentâyour instinct is always to flush and insist they must be mistaken.
but itâs an intimate sort of developmentâthe way the two of you slowly learn to depend on each other for comfort. you on long days at the shop, him after tiresome affairs with the fortress. every delicate touch and every saccharine word you exchange slowly peels away the harsh layers of the week, leaving you raw and bare to each other.Â
itâs nice. something youâve grown a bit dependent on, in fact. a part of you would like to be scared, but wriothesley doesnât let you fear anythingâitâs just the kind of guy he is. everything about him feels too safe for you to consider being scared.Â
you miss him terribly, too. you havenât gotten a chance to see him in over a weekâitâs the first week of spring, the blooming season for a number of flowers. you have shipments from across the continentâcecilias from mondstadt, silk jades from liyue, sakura blossoms from inazuma, and padisarahs from sumeru. there are plenty moreâtoo many for you to list off the top of your head, but those are the ones youâre sure will sell out the quickest.Â
thereâs a certain man who stops by every day, a mop of ginger on his head and an interesting aura about him as he asks you if youâve received kalpalata lotuses yetâtheyâre for my sister, he tells you, i bring them home for her every time i visit sumeru. but i wonât have a chance for quite a while.
you learn heâs a harbinger, the eleventh in rank, and hardly one to step foot in his homeland for too long at a time. but heâs due back, he tells you, for a project that wonât allow him to leave for quite some time. mingling with a fatui operative is hardly on your list of possibilities for the week, but you realize even a harbinger can appreciate the beauty of flowers. so you promise him your batch's biggest blooms as soon as they are delivered.Â
and heâs patient, coming every day in hopes that theyâve been delivered, helping you organize the deliveries you do get, going as far as to join you to loch urania amidst a terrible storm to assist in picking lakelight lilies when youâre low. you appreciate the small companionship youâve formed with himâchilde, as heâs called, he tells you. a code name for his place as a harbinger that you relish in being given the knowledge of. Â
the day finally comes when the lotuses are delivered, and for all his help and kindness, you try to repay him with a free bouquet.Â
he declines persistently. âno, no miss,â he chuckles, waving his hands in dismissal as you offer the beautifully bundled flowers, âi couldnât possibly accept them free of charge.â
âoh, donât be silly,â you huff, âyouâve done plenty for me. an extra set of hands in the shop is as rare as glaze lilies blooming in midwinter!â
âi was happy to help,â he chirps, âi had a good time occupying myself as i waited to depart fontaine.â
âand archons know when the next time youâll return is,â you sigh, âwhich is why you should accept these as a parting gift.â
âa parting gift, huh?â your eyes widen at the familiar voiceâwriothesley. itâs been almost two weeks since youâve heard it, and you beam as you look over at his approaching figure.
âwriothesley!â you hum, âwhat are you doing here?â
âthought iâd come to pay a visit,â he says gruffly, eyeing childe, who grins tightly at the warden. âi wasnât banking on seeing an ex-inmate, though. what a shocking surprise.â
âthe fortressâs duke in broad daylight,â childe coos, âwhat a fascinating sight.â
itâs tenseâyou can feel the atmosphere shift all too quickly as the two men stare each other down.Â
âi didnât know childe was a prisoner at the fortress,â you murmur, making the warden scoff as he glares at the harbinger.
âwell,â childe shrugs, eyes sharp as they gaze at wriothesley, âi like to consider myself wrongly sentenced. justice isnât always fair in the courts of fontaine, it seems.â
âah, is that why you escaped from your sentence early?â
âi believe my escape proved to be quite helpful in saving the people of this nation in the end, didnât it?â he asks, voice low, almost predatory, as wriothesley grits his jaw, glancing back at you before crossing his arms.Â
âis the fatui boy giving you trouble?â he asks, making you shake your head frantically as the harbinger lets out a dry chuckle from the side.Â
âoh, no!â you insist, âno, childe has been quite helpful, i promise. heâs given quite a hand, in fact!â
âis that so?â wriothesley perches a brow, tongue poking his cheek as he glares to the side at the smug ginger.Â
âoh, absolutely,â childe nods, âyou see, iâve been offering the lovely lady my assistance as i waited on my delivery. we even visited loch urania together to pick lakelight lilies for a bouquet she needed to deliver.â
âhe treated me to lunch,â you beam innocently. you might have missed the way wriothesleyâs jaw tightens, but childe certainly doesnât, making his grin spread even wider. âheâs nice, wriothesley, i promise. i hope you both can sort out whatever differences you had during his previous sentence.â
âperhaps next time, you could join us for lunch,â childe drawls, âitâll be on me.â
âa kind offer,â the duke chuckles dryly, a rueful grin on his tight lips as he adds, âbut iâll have to decline.â
âplease, i really insist you take these lotuses,â you hold the bouquet out to the harbinger, and much to wriothesleyâs dismay, thereâs an evident amount of extra care put into the floral packaging. your careful handwriting in soft, looped letters spelling out his name across the paper, with a heart beside it as though you took time to thoughtfully scribble each letter just for him. âgive your sister my best regards.â
âyou know his sister?â wriothesley grits.
âoh no,â you chuckle, âbut he tells me of her. the flowers are for her!â
âlike i said,â childe hums, taking out a heavy pouch of mora and placing it on your counterâboth yours and wriothesleyâs eyes widen at the sheer amount of mora youâre sure is inside. itâs undoubtedly far more than a small, simple bouquet would cost, but he waves it off like itâs nothing as he says, âi insist on giving you the payment you deserve. youâve certainly made my last few days here at fontaine interesting. itâs made up for the less thanâŠwelcoming treatment from the beginning of my trip.â
wriothesleyâs eye all but twitches.Â
âthatâs far too much to accept for a small bunch of kalpalata lotuses, you canâtââ
âconsider it a payment in advance for the next time i return to fontaine,â he winks, âiâll be sure to visit for more of your lovely flowers. iâm sure my mother will appreciate a bouquet too.â
with that, he waves at you, walking off with a grin as you sigh and shake your head fondly, waving him off as you call, âyouâre quite the handful, you know. do visit again next time youâre here!â
âoh, i wouldnât miss the opportunity for anything.â
wriothesley scoffs at the final exchange of words, watching the retreating figure of the harbinger with hardened, distant eyes while you exhale softly and grab the pouch of mora.Â
âare all harbingers this loaded with mora, do you think?â
âwho knows,â he mutters, looking away as he swallows before adding, âi came to visit on my way back to the fortress. i had business with neuvillette.â
âoh,â you hum, smiling as you ask, âis he doing well?â
âfine,â is all wriothesley says.
âthatâs good,â you nod, âwe havenât been able to see each other in quite a bit, huh? iâd have visited, but the deliveries all week have kept me busy.â
âgood thing you had the harbinger to lend a hand, huh?â he remarks, raising a brow.
âwell, yeah, i suppose so,â you frown slightly, watching as he takes a slow, deep breath before fixing his tie. âis everything okay?â
âyeah,â he says instantly. âmay i walk you home?â
âof course,â you smileâit doesnât reach your eyes, and he wishes he could find it in himself to do something to reassure the lingering worry in your irises, but he doesnât. instead, he quietly waits for you to close the shop, so uncharacteristically silent that you can practically feel the tension in the air tangibly.
the walk to your home is just as silent. wriothesley doesnât say anything, and you donât have the confidence to break the silence yourself. youâve never seen him like this, so bothered and visibly so. youâre not entirely sure what brought it on, eitherâbut you are sure it has something to do with childe.Â
you finally reach your home after a long walk, quietly standing in front of the door as you turn to him and inspect his face. hard-lined lips, distant eyes, and crossed arms. he doesnât look like the usual wriothesley you knowâthe one who grins and gives you a slight bow as he says, weâve arrived at your lovely home, milady.Â
âthank you for walking me,â you murmur, looking at him carefully as he nods.
âsure,â he responds flatly, âmy pleasure.â
âyou didnât have to trouble yourself if you were tired from your meeting,â you add.
ânot tired,â he shakes his head. âit was no trouble to me.â
âare you sure?â you raise a brow, sighing as you cross your own arms, âyou donât seem too happy to be here.â
âwhat do you mean?â he shrugs lamely, avoiding your question, your gaze. you know that one look into your eyes is all it takes to make him spill, and normally, you donât take advantage of that, but you think tonight you will.Â
because youâre tired of dancing around half-truths and coded words you have to decipher. you want one straight, laid-bare conversation with him. so you reach over and tilt his jaw, making him inhale sharply at your touch as you force him to face you and look at you.Â
âwhat is up with you? and donât even think about saying nothing.â
ânothing is up with me,â he mumbles stubbornly.
âwriothesley,â you warn, looking at him unimpressed, âi was not born yesterday.â
âmy apologies,â he says sarcastically, a rueful smile curling on those chapped lips of his, âi suppose iâm just a bit shocked iâm not the only customer you offer your affections to. i suppose that was silly of meâit must be good for business.â
âexcuse me?â you recoil, staring at him in disbelief. a little hurt, tooâhe regrets the words as soon as they leave his mouth, flinching slightly at the implications. âhow dare you insinuate iâm a common whore?âÂ
âthatâs not what i was trying to say at all,â he groans, pinching the bridge of his nose, âit came out wrong.â
âthen what were you trying to say?â you demand, looking at him expectantly, hands on your hips and a raise of your brows that almost mockingly tells him, iâd love to see you work your way out of this one.Â
âyou never told me you and the fatui boy were so close.âÂ
if thereâs one thing wriothesley is good at, itâs shifting things to focus on other people. so he can observe. watch closely. take note of all the little things so he can figure out what he wants to know without asking at all. all without having anything told to him right out. itâs how he worksâand you wonât entertain it.Â
âthe fatui boy has a name,â you point out.
âhis name is not actually childe,â he snortsâthereâs no real amusement in the action, just as sarcastic and sardonic as everything prior. âis that what you believe?â
âif youâre not going to say the problem with your words like an adult, iâm going to go inside,â you spit, âweâre both wasting time here if weâre just going to talk in circles.â
âyes, because iâm the one whoâs not admitting things,â he chuckles dryly.Â
you glare at himâbecause enough is enough, and youâre sick of taking one step forward just to stumble ten steps back. with one swift move, your hand grips his wrist firmly and yanks, pulling him to stumble into your home as the door slams behind him. youâre tired of having bystanders walk past you and listen to your pointless discussion, and youâre tired of getting nowhere the longer you stand outside. it feels like the more you talk, the less you know. every word he says confuses you more and more.
and thatâs the thing about himâhe never tells you things, not since that night he first opened up. you thought you broke some newfound trust, a new ground to walk on with him that leads somewhere further than just two people who seek each other out for pleasure. you feel something for himâand you thought he did too, but itâs always something vague or another with him and youâre tired of it. tired of wondering where you stand, what he wants, how he feels. you want to know, and tonight, even if it kills you, youâll find out.
âwhat is it you want me to admit wriothesley? huh?â you scowl, âtell me so i can tell you what you need to know so youâll finally answer my question. iâm tired of the back-and-forth game with you.â
âyou donât need to admit anything to me,â he shrugs, âitâs not my business.â
âyou donât even believe that yourself,â you scoff, âeven i can tell that much. is this about childe? you donât like me mingling with the fatui? heâs just friendly, thatâs all. and good business.â
âright,â he nods slowly, disbelievingly. you almost see redâhow dare he hint that youâre a liar.Â
âwhat do you think iâm doing then?â you challenge, âletâs hear it. fraternizing with the fatui? is that the accusation youâll pull out?â
âwell, if heâs helping you pick flowers and buying you lunch, then you certainly canât be strangers,â he smiles tightly, âperhaps next time he can join us in our canoodling too if youâd like.â
âso thatâs what it is?â you shake your head exasperatedly, âyouâre moody because youâre jealous?â
âiâm not jealous,â he narrows his eyes, âi have no reason to be.â
âiâd believe you sooner if youâd said the underwater beast really was the cause of your scars,â you scoff, pursing your lips. âwhy is it so hard for you to just speak your mind?â
âthen letâs start with you,â he retorts, hands throwing up in the air as he takes a step closer and glares daggers at you, âwhy are you dancing around what your relationship with the harbinger is?â
âthere is nothing between me and the harbinger! nothing at all, and i donât appreciate you assuming things about me. iâve only been intimate with you!â
âyou donât need to hide it,â he smiles bitterly. finally, as if the conversation has chipped away at his resolve enough that bits and pieces of his inner turmoil can show, you can see the lingering hurt in his gaze. the betrayal. the doubt and fearâall of it pools in his eyes, swimming in the many, many flecks of his eyes as you stare into them. âitâs not as though weâve committed to anything here.â
âiâm not hiding anything,â you say firmly, âyou donât have to be jealous.â
âiâm not jealous,â he shakes his head. it feels like heâs convincing himself more than you. because more than you, admitting to himself he cares is hard. all of this is hardâyou know that. the last time he dared to trust someone, to love someone, heâd lost more than he could fathom. more than he was ever ready to lose.
so you sigh, dropping your shoulders as you let the anger dissipate.
âi wouldnât blame you if you were jealous,â you say softly, extending the olive branch with a slow, hesitant hand to his cheek. he stiffens, but he doesnât pull away, âit would kill me, too, to think you were close to another woman. but the harbinger is a customer iâve become friendly with and nothing more. donât you believe me?â
he closes his eyes, letting out a shaky breath as he hesitantly leans into your palm, letting your thumb brush soothing strokes along the scar under his eye.
âi was jealous,â he admits, quiet. hoarse. strained. it takes every ounce of him to admit as much to youâthe progress makes you smile softly. âiâŠi was so jealous i couldnât think straight. and i took it out on you. iâm sorry.â
âmaybe itâs time we had a discussion,â you say softly, âaboutâŠwell, us. what it is weâre doing. itâs long overdue.â
âiâve been avoiding it,â he confesses.Â
âi know,â you murmur, smiling tightly, âi know you have. thatâs why i didnât bring it up. but we canât dance around it forever.â
âiâm no good at this,â he opens his eyes, defeated and so lost, you canât help but lean in and press a soft kiss to his jaw.
âyouâre not so bad,â you hum, âgive yourself a little more credit.â
âno,â he shakes his head, âyou donât understand. iâve never been good at thisâŠat trusting people and getting close to them. i donât even have real friendsâi see clorinde and neuvillette every few months, and briefly at that. one of them was the judge at my trial, and the other knows as much about me as the files say. i donât like talking about my feelings, and i hate sharing things about myself. iâm not jealous of childe because he threatens meâeven i know youâd never give a fatui member a chance. but iâm no good for a stroll in the park, or picking flowers, or lunch at a cafe. i live underwater in a large prison that i run, and i rarely come upâat least, not often enough to be a healthy, functioning member of society, that is.â
âso what?â you frown, âi donât care. nothing is easy at firstâisnât that why we try? who says you have to share all your feelings immediately? we can work up to that slowly. this was sharing, wasnât it? what you just did? thatâs a step in the right direction.â
âand look how much we had to battle for that little bit,â he lets out a sharp, self-deprecating laugh that makes your heart ache, âyouâll grow tired of me.â
âyou donât get to decide that,â you shake your head stubbornly, âi would never grow tired of you. never you.â
âi might be a duke now, but i was a murderer in the past,â he adds, a low and cheap attempt to convince you heâs not worth it. you roll your eyes at the statement.
âiâm aware,â you say blandly, âi donât care, wriothesley. i donât. those are all excusesâif you want this, if you really want this like i do, because you care about me just like i care about you and you feel the same way, then youâd realize these are all petty excuses your head is coming up with. iâll wait for you to be better at communicating if you promise youâll try. and your past is just a small stain on the cloth that we can ignore.â
âitâs murder,â he says in disbelief.
âi said what i said,â you huff. he blinks once, then twice before letting out a breathy chuckle.
âyouâre insane.â
âthank you,â you nod, grinning, âand you being at the fortress is just a small obstacle. weâll make it work, you and me.â
âhow?â he asks, voice small and unsure.
âyou act like itâs impossible, you silly thing. iâll come see you, and youâll come see me, and we can spend nights together wherever is most convenient for the time. why are you overthinking it?â you ask like itâs obvious. maybe it isâmaybe his brain just doesnât let him see how simple of a solution it really is.
âthe fortress is no place for someone whoâs used to the surfaceââ
âenough excuses,â you scold firmly, âi wonât have any of it.â
âyou donât know what youâre getting into,â he shakes his headâyou cup his cheeks, pulling his face close as you press soft, delicate kisses along his skin. like heâs fragile. like he needs to be handled with care.Â
no one has ever handled wriothesley with care. even as a child when he was defenseless. when his parents saw a commodity to raise and sell like livestock instead of a child to love and cherish. when the streets saw a rat with dirty clothes and nimble fingers only good for theft. when he woke up in a hospital bed with cuffs to his hands, wrists shackled, and a caseworker sat a comfortable distance away, even without his gauntlets. when they saw him as nothing more than a murderer on trial as opposed to a child with no other way out. when the world showed him no mercy and left him to fend for himself in a dark, ruthless corner of the nation under the sea with no sun, no grass, no fresh air, and no hope.
no one has thought to treat wriothesley with gentleness, with kindness, with graceâas if he mattered. not until he made himself matter, taking what he wanted through a pen, paper, and meaningless title.Â
no one until you.Â
âi know exactly what iâm getting into,â you whisper, âyou know what i see? when i look at you?â
âwhat? big muscles?â he teases, voice weak. a last, feeble attempt at keeping himself guarded. itâs useless, and he knows it as well as you do. heâs already far more vulnerable than heâs comfortable with.Â
âa good man,â you say firmly, âa good man who is worth the effort. one who has a good heart and no one to share it with. someone who knows when change needs to happen and makes it happen. someone who knows a thing or two about second chances. who shows people mercy if theyâre willing to be betterâbecause thatâs all he wants. for things to be better.â
âyouâre giving me a lot more credit than i deserve, sweetheart,â he says shakily, trying to give you his usual smirk. his lips wobble, much to his dismayâyou kiss them to help him hide the tremor like the angel you are.Â
heâs not sure why the archons, celestia, or whoever is in charge of fate would send him such a perfect, pure angel in his arms. but they did. heâs certainly not one to miscount his blessingsâtheyâve been few and far between as is.Â
âno,â you murmur, whispering between kisses, âiâm not. iâm giving you as much credit as you deserve. because no one has ever told you these things about you, and itâs time someone did.â
âdoing the dirty work, huh?â
âi wish youâd stop with that,â you smile at him sadly, âi wish you would treat yourself with the same kindness you treat everyone else with. that you treat me with.â
âyouâre an angel,â he murmurs, pecking your cheek, âthatâs the difference.â
âyou canât be that bad if thatâs the case,â you grin cheekily, âwhat kind of angel picks such an awful guy?â
âone who thinks the fatui harbingers make good friends,â he snorts, âone whoâs a little on the naive side.â
âi like to think of it as seeing good in people,â you wink.Â
he laughs, arms wrapping around you, pulling you flush against his chest as he kisses you. and kisses you. and kisses youâand kisses you some more until youâre forced to pull away and breathe. even then, heâs not satisfied, lips finding the sensitive skin along your collarbones, traveling up along your neck and finding your jaw, peppering soft presses of his lips until they hover over your mouth again.
âyou good?â he asks smugly, âneed a minute to catch your breath?â
âyouâre such a pain,â you huff, pressing against his mouth and closing the gap as he hums against you.Â
âwhat were you just saying about me just a few moments ago? something about a good man?â
âcome here,â you sigh exasperatedlyâand then youâre tugging him into your bedroom, stumbling and giggling as you both impatiently find the bed. you fall back, the mattress catching you along with him as he hovers over you and doesnât waste a moment to nip at your neck.
ânext time you need help with flowers in a dangerous, stormy place, you ask me,â he says lowly, breath fanning over your skin and making you shiver, âyou donât need the fatui boy.â
âokay,â you laugh, breathless as your eyes flutter shut when he nibbles on the sensitive spot over your pulse point, âyou might have to temporarily drop your duties as a duke for that, though.â
âconsider it done.â his hands tug your blouse over your head, doing quick work to toss it somewhere on the floor as he grins at the lacey red bra you have on underneath. âthis is new,â he comments, âi like this.â
âof course you do,â you grin in amusement, âso predictable.â
âhey,â he pouts, âiâm an easy guy to please. just need you, maybe a few accessoriesâŠi donât ask for much.â
âwell,â you look at him in anticipation, ïżœïżœare you going to stare all day? or are you going to take it off?â
his eyes darkenâhazed with lust and desperation as he quickly works the bra off of you and tosses it off to the side, too, but not before he stares at the label quickly. âchioriya boutique,â he reads, nodding, âremind me to give her my thanks. and business, too, in the future.â
âshameless,â you scoff, shaking your head.
âgrateful,â he corrects, grinning cheekily at you. you donât even get a chance to retort before his lips are around your nipple, teeth lightly grazing the pebbled nub as he sucks, making you gasp as your hands find his head, cupping the back of it as your own head throws back against the pillows.Â
âwriââ
âyou know what i see when i see you?â he hums, pulling away from one nipple and latching onto the other, tongue rolling over it slowly as his thumb finds the other, not to leave it neglected, âi see the woman i would defy the gods themselves to possess. who i would commit far worse crimes for, and serve time all over again for. one who commands my every thought. do you know how many times iâve neglected my duties just thinking about you alone? when i see you, i see the one thing thatâs finally mineâmine alone.â
you whimper as his lips reattach themselves to your breast, sucking and grazing his tongue around one nipple and pinching and toying with the other with his hand. your hands tug at his hair, pulling a soft groan from his throat as he pulls away and stares at you. youâre a panting, heaving mess alreadyâhe grins in satisfaction.
âpretty,â he hums, nuzzling his nose against your throat, right where your pulse is erratic, âso, so pretty.â
âall this flattery, and youâve yet to do something,â you rasp, just to rile him up as he lets out a deep, gruff sound of disapproval, eyeing you with a raised brow.
âoh, you want me to do something, is that it? i thought weâd take our time,â he grazes his finger along your waist, tracing the edge of your skirt before looping his finger under it, tugging slowly, âbut if you insist, i guess we can pick up the pace.â
he pulls the skirt down your legs, eyes widening as he takes in the matching red laced panties from the bra earlierâyou grin cheekily as he does. âlike this one too?â
âoh,â he chuckles, breathless, âsweetheart, you have no idea.â wriothesley is a giverâyouâre reminded of this fact as soon as his head buries between your thighs enthusiastically, kissing your clit through the lace as your breath hitches. âdid you pick this little set up just for me?â
âdonât be silly,â you tease, âi obviously got this for myself. consider yourself a lucky witness.â
âand a lucky witness i am indeed,â he nods, humming as he slowly, carefully inches the lace down your legs, admiring the way it contrasts against your sweet, supple skin. âi owe chioriya boutique my life. iâll even give my thanks to madame chiori myself.â
âplease do not,â you say in horror, making him chuckle, âthat would be utterly undignified.â
heâs not even listening, you realize. his lips attach to your clit as soon as the fabric is discarded somewhere to the side like the rest, a soft groan rumbling from his chest as soon as he tastes you, spreading your legs for better access as he glides his tongue to your folds, pressing between your folds and looking up to watch as your head throws back with a soft gasp.Â
âwriothesley,â you gasp, pulling his hair in a tight grip to ground yourself.
youâre the most gentle with him when you handle himâbut youâre also the roughest. the way you grasp him so harshly, mercilessly in your grip, makes his eyes flutter shut in a sick, twisted sort of masochism. he loves the pain, the dull throb in his skull from your pleasure.Â
âyeah, iâm right here, sweetheart,â he chuckles lowly, âfeels good?â
âyes,â you whine, âsâgoodâso good.â
âi know,â he hums, pressing soft kisses to your clit, along your inner thigh, until heâs back to your folds, hovering over them as he whispers, âi can tell just from the way youâre dripping. isnât that cute?â
you whine in embarrassment, closing your legs around him as he grins against your cunt, grinding down on his mouth until heâs back to devouring you, tongue slipping deep into you as far as he can, exploring your tight, wet hole with fervor.Â
âclose,â you whisper, voice bordering on broken, âiâm s-so closeâoh, wriothesley!â
you come undone on his tongue with one more roll of his tongue over your clit, shaking as he sloppily eats you out through your high until your whole body is a shaking, quivering mess along with your walls.Â
âgot anything else from that boutique you want to show me?â he murmurs, moving back up to hover over you, burying his face into your neck as your arms snake around his shoulders, rubbing into his back.
âmaybe,â you say vaguely, grinning, âitâs a secret. maybe if you behave, youâll find out.â
âyeah?â he chuckles, âconsider me on my best behavior, milady.â
âthen take this off,â you tug at his shirt, pouting as you add, ânot fair that iâm the only one undressed.â
âas you wish,â he agrees. you watch as he stripsâitâs not embarrassing like the first time or two when you looked away with a hot face and ears. now itâs intimate, watching him bear his soul to you, with every scar and imperfection, every flaw and tainted part.
his cock is hard, standing between his legs as it throbs, a bead of pre cum coating the tip. your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him close again as you feel his hardened length poke at your thigh, making you press against it and pull a groan out of him.
âi want you,â you whisper, âiâve never wanted anyone else. not like this. not like you. i donât think i ever will.â
âyou canât have met too many people then,â he teases.
âoh, i meet plenty of people. romantic ones at thatâflowers are a love language, you know.â
âand you still want me? they must all be taken.â
âtheyâre not you,â you correct, pulling him into a sweet, slow kiss, taking your time to mold your lips against him and feel him against you, ânothing close to you. no one comes close.â
the bees should come to your lips for nectar, he thinks. flowers bloom from your mouth, delicate and sweet petals that light up his world and color him every shade of love.Â
âin that case,â he whispers, pulling away from your mouth to press a soft kiss to your nose, âiâm the luckiest man in fontaine. maybe teyvat.â
âi would agree,â you wink cheekily, âarenât i such a lucky catch?â
âoh absolutely,â he laughs, amused, fond, so deeply enamored. then his lips are back on yours, and his hips are angled so that his cock teases your folds, grazing the entrance of your cunt as he coats his tip with your dripping slick.Â
you both shudder at the feeling, gasping against each otherâs mouths as you exchange hot, labored breaths.Â
âi want you,â you repeat, âplease.â
âyou have me,â he whispers, letting out a soft moan as he pushes the tip past your entrance, âas long as you want.â
âthatâll be forever,â you say breathlessly, âthink you can handle that long?â
âiâm sure iâll manage.â
finally, he pushes all the way through, buried to the hilt and stretching you apart until he splits you open on his cock. he presses so deep into you, you can feel him nudge against that sweet, spongy spot without even trying. itâs like he was made for youâlike the laws of this land declared him yours from birth and made him fit you in every way possible. the slot of his fingers with yours, the mold of his lips against you, the press of his cock into your cunt. all of it fits you so well, you wonder if youâve lived your life just to find wriothesley.Â
you both moan into each otherâs mouths, strangled sounds that you swallow from each otherâs mouths as your lips sloppily press into each other.Â
âwr-wrioâfuck,â you stammer, nails raking along his back as he rolls his hips, slamming into your deepest, most rawest parts.
âyeah, baby,â he pants, kissing the corner of your mouth, âmâright here, sweetheart.â
you sob when a rough, callused thumb finds your clit, rubbing circles into the bundle of nerves perfectly in tune with the harsh thrusts that fill you so deep. deepâheâs so far into you, you wonder if you can feel him in your throat, in your lungs, and in your heart, knocking the air out of you as you breathlessly try to call his name.Â
âfaster,â you plead, clinging to him, âmoreâplease, need more.â
âthink you can take it?â he chuckles, cutting himself off with a strangled grunt when you squeeze around him particularly tightly, âi think youâre falling apart as is.â
âmore,â you whine, back arching as your hips desperately buck up to meet his in tandem, trying to feel him closer, deeper, harder.Â
âif thatâs what you want,â he humsâyou want to scoff at him, but youâre too delirious. youâd tease him for acting like he doesnât want the same, like the ache of his cock doesnât crave more friction, doesnât want to slam into you with little to no self-control outside of chasing his pleasure. you feel so good around himâso good, his head falls to your shoulder as he pants harshly into your ear, murmuring stammered praises. âs-so good, sweetheart. you always take me so good, like the pretty thing you are. how in teyvat did i score the affections of fontaineâs most radiant lady? o-only the gods could know.â
âwhy donât you ask them,â you breathe, head pressing against the pillow as your back arches and your toes curl when he slams his swollen tip against your sweet spot once more, hips rolling in perfect precision, âask them how you got so blessed.â
âmaybe iâll ask the divinity right before me,â he hums smoothly, chuckling when you mewl as his thumb rubs faster into your clit, âhow did i get so lucky?â
âbecause i need you,â you whine, ân-need youâonly you.â
âwhat a sweet answer,â he groans, pumping his cock into you faster, feeling the familiar twitch indicating heâs closeâand you are too. he can tell from the erratic squeeze of your walls. âalways spoiling me, right sweetheart?â
âwriothesley,â you cry, âi-iâm close. mâso close, please. please.â
âno need to say please, baby,â he grunts, âyou can have whatever you want. when you want it, yeah?â
and just like that, you breakâhis thumb is still rubbing those harsh circles into you swollen clit as you cum, clenching down on him through your high as your mouth parts and your head presses deeper into the pillow. heâs fucking into you, still slamming his hips into you as mercilessly as before, riding you through your orgasm as you chant his name.Â
âwriâwriothesley,â you sob.
âyeah, sweetheart? what is it?â he teasesâit doesnât last long, though. his bravado falls apart as soon as the first twitch of his cock indicates his own orgasm. you feel the hot, sticky, endless ropes of cum fill you up, coating your walls as he stiffens over you and shudders, groaning lowly as he empties himself into your sweet cunt. âf-fuck, you feel so goodâyouâre the only one. the. only. one.â
his hips thrust into you to punctuate the words, cock pushing his release deeper into you, messy and leaking down your thighs and forming a ring at the base of his length. itâs so filthy you almost think itâs a sin. but how could it be when it feels so right, so good?
finally, he slumps over your body, spent and panting as he finishes. you catch your breath under him, labored breath one after the other as your sweaty skin clings against his own.
âyouâre beautiful,â he murmurs after some time, kissing the damp skin of your neck.
âi know,â you whisper cheekily, making him chuckle as he rolls over, pulling you into his chest.
âso humble,â he snorts.
âof course,â you beam, âbut feel free to leave more compliments.â
âoh donât worry, i wonât run out any time soon.â
itâs quiet for a bit, apart from your giggles and his low chuckles. soft, peaceful, and so painfully comforting, you wonder if heaven itself wishes for a place beside wriothesley.Â
âwhen you first came up to the surface after your sentence,â you mumble after a few moments of quietness, tracing small loops into his chest as he silently hums for you to continue, âwhat was the first thing you did?â
âi got a croissant,â he answers thoughtfully, thumb rubbing circles into your hip where his hand is comfortably rested.
you blink, tilting your head to look up at him. his lips curve into a knowing grin.
âpardon?â
he laughsâitâs a beautiful thing. like a boy, eyes crinkled and lips freely curved so wide, youâd think his cheeks were endless with the way they expand to accommodate for such a large stretch. itâs the one time he doesnât seem like the rugged man you usually know. something younger, more innocent, more raw comes out when wriothesley laughs.
âthey go well with tea,â he shrugs, looking down at you, quickly stealing a peck of your nose, âandâŠâ his voice is softer as he trails off, smile faltering.
âand?â you press delicately. so delicately, youâd think you were speaking to a house of cards, one word thatâs breathed too harshly away from toppling over.
âand i wanted to visit a bakery i went to as a kid,â he murmurs quietly, voice dropping to a whisper as if heâs admitting something heâs never told anyone. something tells you he just might be. âthere was an old lady who used to feed me sometimes when i was a kid on the streets. after i ran away. sheâd give me a chocolate croissant and warm tea. i thoughtâŠi thought maybe there was a chance sheâd still âŠâ
he swallows, cutting his words off just before his voice has the chance to break. itâs a measured gesture. you know it is because you know him. just like you know the feelings of petals and thorns with your eyes closed, you know wriothesley. just like you can tell flowers apart from scent alone, you have him memorized. just like you know what every petal and its origin means, you understand him like itâs your job, too.
except you get paid to do this with something better than mora. with open-mouthed kisses and lingering touches. with coffee in a mug to complement the tea next to it. with strong arms to shield you when rain pours hard over your unsuspecting heads. with a gentle voice that learns to whisper back the language you speak better than anything else.
it says youâre the one i need the most, like rainbow roses. i miss you so much, i ache for you, like mourning flowers. iâd shed blood for you to live, like dendrobiums. youâre what i desire more than anything else, like romaritimes. each word is carefully formed, fragile as it hangs from a singular point. like petals on a stem, his words blossom from the tip of his tongue, falling one by one to your awaiting hands as your thumb traces his lips.
they all tell you one thingâwhether he says the words out loud or not, he tells you he loves you through the things he does say. every little promise, every compliment, every form of praise. they say one thingâi love you.
you have always felt loved around wriothesley. you know he loves you, even if you question it sometimes, even if you ache to hear it, youâre always reminded he does when those eyes soften as they look at you, training on you like they never want to look away.
he loves you. he loves you not. he loves you. he loves you not. he loves you.
he loves you.
he loves you.
he loves you.
it always ends with he loves you.
âwas she?â you whisper, finger tracing up his chest, along his neck and jaw until it cups his cheek tenderly. he shivers at the touch. âwas she still there?â
gentleness isnât something wriothesley is very familiar with. it raids his skin, takes over the territory thatâs only known harshness, and conquers the scarred patches that are barren and empty from all the pain and desolation.
âno,â his voice is barely audible. âher son owns it now. the croissants still taste the same, though.â
âsome things never change, i suppose,â you smile softly, leaning closer as your nose presses against his, âeven when everything else does. itâs not so bad if you hold onto what you can.â
âand what if you have nothing?â he challenges, closing his eyes when you kiss his jaw sweetly and slowly inhaling a soft breath.
âiâm sure thatâs never true,â you murmur, âthereâs always something.â
âyeah? how optimistic of you,â he chuckles.
âiâm serious,â you pout, âthereâs always a way to make do. look at cacti. they go ages without water, donât they? and did you know naku weeds can survive being struck by lightning?â
âdo you just compare everything to plants?â he asks in amusement, eyeing you with a charmed glint.
âof course,â you huff, âdonât you compare things to what you love most?â
he looks at you for a moment. really looks at you. grazes his eyes over your supple skin heâs traced so many times, over the small crinkles by your eyes permanently etched from smiling so often, over the curve of your nose and lips heâs pressed his own against, over the two eyes that stare back at him and see him more than they do look.
and then he nods.
âyeah,â he admits, âi do.â
your lips are as sweet as the warm chocolate that coated his lips and chin as a child. your touch is as soft as the hands of his mother when he thought he could trust her. your eyes are as bright as the sun when he first saw it after years of dark, rusted walls. everything about you reminds him of his past, the better parts and the worst. all of it.
some of it is healing, and some of it hurts so raw he thinks heâll bleed out. but your hands are dipped in gold, he thinks. theyâd make the most infertile soil rich and filled with life, letting him blossom new again right where his blood spilled.
heâs reminded of you in everything he sees. tea reminds him of your coffee with too much milk. paperwork reminds him of how distressed you are by wasted pages and killed trees. his gauntlets remind him of your hands so small in comparison. heâs doomed, he thinks. cursed, even.
cursed to always remember you in everything.
so, of course, he compares everything to what he loves most. because why else would you reside in his mind so endlessly, taking up the space from one end all the way to the other? why else would you remind him of you in even the mundane of things if he didnât love you so deeply, so purely, so easily, that youâre everywhere all at once, even when youâre nowhere in sight?
he presses his forehead to yours, closing his eyes and inhaling sharply before letting out a slow, shaky breath.
âi lied,â he admits, making you frown.
âabout?â
âabout the first thing i did when i got to the surface,â he says quietly. âi went to my parents' graves.â
âto visit them?â you raise a confused eyebrow.
âno. to make sure they were really dead.â
âoh,â is all you say, staring into his eyes as he waits for you to say something more. âwell, were they dead?â
âyes,â he snorts, closing his eyes and huffing out a small laugh. âvery much so.â
âwell, thatâs a relief,â you giggle, âotherwise, youâd have served a sentence for murder for nothing.â
âgood thing i didnât, huh?â
âgood thing you didnât,â you nod, grinning as he stares at you softly.
âiâll take you one of these days,â he hums quietly after a moment. you look surprised, eyes widening as you process the words.
âto your parents' grave?â
âto the bakery,â he rolls his eyes, letting out a breathy laugh. âi donât think my dead mother would appreciate me bringing back a woman after i killed her.â
âoh, very funny,â you scowl, glaring at him.
âyou think so?â he winks, laughing when you gently shove his face away, making his hand grab at your wrist and bite gently into the skin.
you squeal, giggling as he nibbles into your skin. âstop that, you brute!â you demand in between laughs.
itâs quiet for a moment as the laughter settles down, just you and him. him and you. silence echoing off the walls and warmth radiating between your bodies, the sheets clinging to your bare skin. you can feel his bare hip brush against yours. itâs intimateâfar more intimate than either of you are used to, but not unwelcome.
he turns, pulling you into his arms and pressing your foreheads together. you think thatâs his favorite position to be inâwhen your faces are so close, they touch. when his eyes can bore into yours. when he can feel the warmth of you tickling his skin as you breathe, as you talk, as you exist before him.
âyouâll like the croissants,â he adds quietly, thoughtfully, âthe blackberry ones are particularly nice with the lemon and mint teaââ
you cut him off. before you can think. the words fly past your lips, swept with the breeze like dandelion seeds, and carried through the room as they find shelter in every little crevice. theyâll be here, in every corner, in every little place, a memento of your first real confession.
âi love you.â
he pauses as you cut him off, blinking as he stares at you. something flashes in his eyesâfear, excitement, a small bit of shock and doubt that makes your heartache. you can read him like a book.
itâs not doubt because he thinks you lie. itâs doubt because he thinks it shouldnât be him. you know that, and youâre prepared to patiently prove him heâs wrong. little by little. day by day. one kiss at a time.
âthatâs really enthusiastic,â he shoots you a teasing grin, too easy and too practiced for your liking, âif i knew you liked croissants that muchââ
âno, wriothesley,â you say gently, like your words could rock the boat and topple you both into a dangerous, unforgiving current any moment. âi love you. i love when you tell me things you donât like sharing, and i love when you show me things that are hard to revisit. i love you. because you try, and youâre good at trying. and thatâs enough.â
âgetting sentimental on me?â he asks hoarsely, smiling tightly.
your hand cups his cheek again, pulling him in so you can kiss the corner of his mouth as you whisper, âyes.â your lips find the other side of his mouth, still at the corner as you whisper again. âbecause you deserve to hear nice things. even the cheesy ones.â
his eyes close. one moment turns to two, and you let him take his time. let him swallow as he takes a shallow breath before he opens them again and looks at you.
heâs laid bare before you. in more ways than one. being nude is easier than being seenâhe trusts you enough to let himself be both.
âyou deserve to hear nice things, too,â he admits. itâs not the same as admitting he loves you too, but itâs as close as he can getâstill difficult enough that his voice breaks. like itâs hard for him to confess something like this.
it is.
itâs hard for him to tell someone he loves them. the last time he did, he felt the sucker punch of betrayal in his guts, so young that he hardly understood what it meant to be betrayed at all. he watched the same eyes he used to think were his saviors die out as blood spilled in the living room, where his tiny feet padded across as he ran around and played. he misses them sometimes, even now.
his motherâs beautiful green eyes that greeted him in the mornings as she kissed him awake, warm and gentle on his forehead. his fatherâs deep blue ones that would look at him proudly as he grew and grew, clasping his shoulder with that firmly affectionate grip.
sometimes, he misses them, misses what he thought he had. other times, heâs glad he did it. sometimes, in the dead of night, when itâs just him, he mourns the old him. the one that didnât have blood on his hands, the him that didnât have to take two lives to set so many free. the version of him that was allowed to be a boy who existed freely, no taxes to pay for the love he so desperately wanted.
love is wicked like thatâit creeps up on you, takes pieces of you, and changes you until you can hardly recognize yourself. until you can hardly recognize everyone around you. how long has it been since heâs seen his siblings? can he even still call them that? do they remember him? would he even recognize them?
he still loves them in his own way. his precious little sisters camille and lucie, and his sweet baby his brothers alexandre and nicolasâhe came back and set them free just before it was their time. he didnât want to leave them, but he had no choice. there were ones who left before him, a time that he can hardly remember anymore. a time before him and antoine. but he recalls them being so delicate with him just as older siblings should be. did they make it out of whatever fate they were sealed to? were they disposed of with no witnesses to bring their demises to justice? he doesnât know. itâs easier not to know.
itâs easier not to love at all than to open up the risk of hurting. every person heâs ever loved has caused him pain. even the innocent siblings who did nothing wrongâall heâs ever known is pain. the pain of not having them around anymore. the pain of their quiet demise. the pain of setting them free and letting them go. the pain of never having them to himself like a proper family.
loving is so hard for him, so hard on him. so unforgiving to him. so cruel and harsh to him that he hides away behind guarded fists and loaded punches. and you know it, tooâhe knows you do because you reward his confession with the softest kiss youâve ever given him as soon as he spills the words.
âi love you,â you murmur the sweet words into his mouth between warm kisses, âi love you. i love you.â
âsay it again,â he pleads. itâs easier to let you love him than it is to love youâyou donât mind letting him be a little selfish. he deserves it, in fact.
âi love you. more than anything iâve ever loved.â
âpromise me,â he begs.
âi promise,â you say firmly. âand you donât have to say it back, not yet. but i want you to know it because you should know youâre loved.â
all at once, the vines wrapped around his chest release, one petal blooming across his heart and arteries at a time until the nectar is running through his veins.
itâs warm. itâs sunny. itâs soft. itâs so, so safe. it doesnât hurt. it never does with you. you never let it.
âi love you too,â he croaks. he shivers as he says it before heâs grinning slowly, chuckling in wonder as he lets the words sink in before he repeats again, âi love you.â
âyeah?â you beam, eyes crinkling as joy tucks itself into the crevices.
he nods. âyes. and your weird nature lectures.â
you pout, making him laugh. âheyââ
âand your annoyingly aromatic house with petals everywhereââ
âtheyâre not everywhereââ
âand that ugly dog watering can of yoursââ
âit kind of reminds me of you, soââ
âi love them all, and i want them for the rest of my life. i hope you take it easy on the snapdragons, though. i think iâm allergic.â
âsuch a romantic at heart,â you grumble, rolling your eyes. but theyâre glassy, swelling with unshed, precious little tears.
he kisses your eyelids as you close your eyes, murmuring, âiâm doing my best here. cut me some slack, iâve never dated someone before.â
âoh, wriothesley,â you sniffle, tears coating your sun-soaked skin. and despite the evidence of tears, heâs never seen joy on your face like this beforeâso clear and radiant. âwho taught you about romance? youâre hopeless.â
âhopelessly in love with you,â he shoots back smugly, wiggling his brows.
âiâm doomed,â you snort, letting out a watery chuckle.
âyeah,â he says cheekily, âyou are. i hope youâre prepared.â
you kiss him in reply. he kisses you, too. you kiss each other. flowers bloom everywhere your lips touchâwriothesley swallows every petal gratefully.
you love him. you love him not. you love him. you love him not. you love him. you love him not.
you love him.
you love him.
you love him.
it always ends with you love him.
and he loves you, too. you both love each other. the words bounce from both of your tongues like you take turns tasting them, feeling them, familiarizing yourselves with them.
it doesnât matter who whispers the words first or who murmurs them last. no matter who breaks the silence, it always ends with i love you.
ITS FINISHED. WOW. i never thought a flower shop drabble was going to turn into thisâi actually had a completely different flower shop au idea that was going to be a long fic but i just wanted to write a tiny practice round drabble to get the itch out my system before i had time to sit down for the full fic. well as you can seeâŠthe practice run kind of took a mind of its own so now we have this. LOL. i think perhaps i will also write the other idea but we will see!!! this one kind of replaced the other one in my heart as flower shop wrio lore lol đ„ž
ANYWAY!!! i hope you all enjoyed this as much as i enjoyed writing it. idk if wrio was ooc or not or if i did his past and trauma justice but i certainly tried!! all the things about his past with the siblings and his mother's diary and the croissant at the bakery are all headcanons i carefully crafted and hold so so so dear. they are my truth!!! and they make me fall in love with him so much more deeply :( anyway! if you liked it then as always, reblogs and comments are appreciated. now if youâll excuse me, i will be doodling his name in pink glitter pen with hearts in my diary and giggling.
#writing tag#wriothesley x reader#wriothesley x you#wriothesley smut#genshin x reader#genshin x you#genshin smut#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact x you#genshin impact smut
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â© â§âË â© SORCERY SCHEMES â GETO SUGURU.
contents. non sorcery au!, husband! suguru, gn! reader, nanako and mimiko are still your kids, silly lil shenanigans of cult leader! suguru being in your dreams
suguru has been the source of your anger for lots of things over the years. some fair, others not so much.
that one important date he accidentally missed because he got caught up at work. that time you vented and he tried to tell you to toughen up instead of picking your side. that time he accidentally shrunk your favorite sweater in the laundry. that time he fell asleep while you were talking late at night (he had insisted he was tired, in his defenseâyou were just too stubborn to let him sleep.)
marriage has its ups and downs, but suguru likes to think youâre a strong coupleâbut this? this is the most outrageously ridiculous reason to be mad at himâheâs simply at a loss.
âso let me get this straight,â he starts slowly, as if trying to comprehend something far too complex for his simple mind, âyouâre mad at me because i had some superpowers in your dreamââ
âit was sorcery,â you hiss, âwere you even listening?â
âright. sorry. i wasâŠa sorcerer,â he apologizes. he looks at you like youâre insaneâyour eye twitches just a little. âand then suddenly i went crazy in the head and killed a village and adopted nanako and mimiko andâŠleft. to basically cleanse an entire demographic. is that right?â
âyou had a cult too.â
âand the cult,â he nods slowly, âcanât forget the cult.â
âyeah,â you glowerâif looks could kill, suguru thinks he might have never been born at all. this is a new one, he has to admit. âand it was really fucking rude. you left. and you took the kids before i could even meet them.â
âokay,â he says tiredly, rubbing his forehead, âbaby, i donât know if you realize this, but i donâtâŠi canât perform sorcery. and i donât have a cult i can lead either. iâm just a literature teacherââ
âi know what you are,â you snap, shoving away the hand he tries to reach at you with, âyouâre a selfish psychopath who committed heinous crimes and left me single and alone as you led a group of people to follow your crazy ideas. donât even think about touching meââ
âso do you want me to apologize?â he sighs, âbecause iâm sorryââ
âwhat if i left you? huh? and just started killing everyone who has blue eyes? what then? iâll take the kids this time and leave you alone, see how you like it.â
âwell, at least that gets rid of satoru,â he mutters quietly. and then he grinsâchuckles a soft little laugh that makes the edges of your lips curl just a bit. âyouâre crazy,â he snorts, shaking his head. and thenâ âbut i love you. câmere.â
you donât fight the hand the reaches towards you this time, letting his arm curl around your waist and pull you into his side. thatâs a good sign, he thinks, so he tests the waters and plants a kiss to your head. you melt just a little.
âiâm still mad at you,â you mumble.
âyeah, i figured,â he grins, âanything i can do to erase my sins as a mass murderer?â
âyou can make breakfast,â you hum, leaning closer as you rub circles into his chest, âand wash the dishes.â
âeasy enough,â he nods, pulling a scowl from you.
âyouâre not off the hook yet,â you click your teeth.
âof course,â he nods in agreement, âi still have to atone for my radical actions. iâll start by resurrecting all the people i killed. that should do it, right?â
âsuguru, be serious,â you huff, âi was very sad, okay?â
âdid you miss me?â he wriggles his browsâyou look at him incredulously before slapping his chest. he chuckles a little too long for your liking.
âwhat a stupid question,â you pinch your nose, âso if i became delusional and ran off to erase a population, you wouldnât be upset with me?â
âactually, iâd follow you because i love you,â he shrugs, pinching your nose lightly, âiâd be your cultâs second-in-command. obviously you just didnât love me enough in your dream to do the same for me.â
âyou didnât invite me,â you pout through a glare, âwhat was i supposed to do? show up unwelcome?â
âwell, nothing was stopping you. was i at least a strong sorcerer?â he asks in wonder.
you think for a moment before nodding. âyeah,â you say thoughtfully, âone of the strongest.â
ânice,â he grinsâhe seems a bit too pleased for something that happened in your dreams.
you decide to deal the harsh blow. âbut not nearly as strong as satoru. you know he was the literally the strongest?â
âokay,â he scowls, âif you do kill blue-eyed people, start with him.â
you giggle, leaning up to kiss his jaw as he lets a soft grin pull over his features. he laughs with youâand suddenly, youâre both chuckling together uncontrollably.
itâs a bit of a silly circumstance, but he kisses your forehead and means it when he says, âsorry i left you to kill people and led a cult and committed a bunch of crimes while i wiped out a whole group of people. i didnât mean it.â
âyou took the kids too,â you remind him.
âi donât know what i was thinking,â he shakes his head, âthose two are a handful. how was i managing being a single father with all that on my plate?â
âthatâs why you shouldnât have left me,â you point out.
âyouâre right,â he agrees, âiâll invite you if i ever snap and lose my sanity.â
âgood. youâre forgiven. now, i want chocolate chip pancakesâand make coffee while youâre at it.â
âyeah, whatever,â he rolls his eyes. he kisses you though, a soft little peck over your lips as you hum into the kiss and cup his cheek, âyou got it. whatever you want.â
âi want you,â you murmur, âunhinged sorcerer and all.â
he laughs at the craziness of it allâbut he loves it anyway, loves you despite it all.
âand i want you too,â he grins, hopelessly in love, âif youâll do me the honors and join my crazy sorcery schemes.â
hi iâm tee and i had a dream that my rude ass sister stole my car and totaled it and now im very mad at her and i am not speaking to her until she apologizes. she refuses so im now double mad
#teepods.writings#drabbles.#geto x reader#geto x you#geto fluff#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk fluff#geto suguru x reader#geto suguru x you#geto suguru fluff#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen fluff
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I see that tag, what other piercings did Frank have?? Shaggy hair and piercings as a teen I can't. XD Frank went through a phaseee.
Haha he did! And for a while too, all the way into his mid 20s til he stuck with just the earrings
But as a teen he consistently had a couple extra rings at the top of one ear shown here
And I wanna say he was a septum kinda guy but probably not bc his nose was too low for it to be more satisfyingly visible
Def had a tongue piercing though like barnaby! They bonded over that information đ
#I also feel like he had a belly button piercing too#I havenât drawn him with any yet but I also wanna give Frank some tattoos#like picture a spine tattoo of different butterflies with their wings spread#and those going down his back n stuff#I wanna give him a thigh tattoo too#like a big thigh piece#or whole leg#just plants and florals and stuffs#crime puppets au
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There's Selina Kyle and Holly Robinson as well, if you want a character with that trauma in Gotham! They've both been protective mentors, protectors and gang leaders to the homeless children of the East End (the area containing Crime Alley) at different times in canon, running the Alleytown Kids/Strays, while Jason has never done anything of the sort to Crime Alley kids in canon.
im also at a point where if someone tries to derail criticism about how male characters are often gifted trauma in fandom from the female characters with actual trauma in canon with ânot my fault those female characters arenât popular/interestingâ instead of. reflecting about why theyâd rather make up shit for a dude than care about a woman. with just. straight violence.
#also: stop making aus where tim drake is 'catlad' or 'stray' or whatever#when kitrina falcone aka CATGIRL is right there!#only in like. five issues. some of which were in a two-face story i strongly disagree with about him and gilda's characterization#but still! she exists! she is or at least was technically canon!#and she's full of potential to be developed in the hands of writers who actually care about her!#she's the disowned runt of a mafia family she's freakishly good at escapology which has very troubling implications#she's a gotham delinquent's gotham delinquent (debuted planting a bomb for the penguin) but also likes wearing pink and cat ears casually#selina steals these amazing maps of the criminal territories that drew and she sets out to steal them back. from CATWOMAN#yeah yeah jason stole the batmobile's tyres but imagine. your family tries to murder you and you immediately decide to Rob Catwoman#if you can remember the tiniest details about male characters that might not be canon anymore or have only been shown or mentioned once#and take completely fanon headcanons like the 'jason is crime alley's guardian angel' and run a marathon with them#you can acknowledge female characters' experiences traits and even just existences with more foundation in canon#even if dc won't! even if dc never does! that's what fandom is for!#when i get back into the swing of my catfamily chronicles series i will write so much content for those female characters#that should have already been written in canon and fanfic
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Title: Dragon On The Tower Roof.
Pairing: Yandere!Malleus x Reader (TWST).
Word Count: 4.2k.
TW: Fantasy AU, Mentions of Blood/Bruising, Mentions of Injury to Reader, Implied (Consensual) Sex, Possessive Behavior, and Manipulation.
Malleus met you at the base of his tower.
With a single movement of his wings, he descended from his perch and landed in front of you â placing himself between you and the stone behemoth. Had you been a more imposing figure, a knight or a prince or the general of some distant army, he wouldâve cut you down the moment you entered his valley, but your only armor was a thin rucksack tunic and your only weapon was a rusted sword â the tip of its chipped blade currently planted in the ground as you struggled to keep yourself on your feet. He could smell blood on you, although he couldnât be sure if its source was the jagged, poorly bandaged wound on your calf or the dark stains painting your humble clothes. You were clearly not a knight, much less a prince, and if you were a general, your army had abandoned you long ago. Altogether, you were not the most intimidating nuisance he had ever had to dismiss. He mightâve been grateful, had you not been a nuisance at all.
In the past, his visage alone had been enough to make even the bravest adventure abandon their quest, but your weary eyes only glazed over his black-scaled wings, his spiraling horns, the slit pupils of his unnaturally green eyes. You acknowledged him with a slight nod, putting more of your weight on your makeshift aid. âI believe Iâm here to slay you, dragon.â
His greeting, likewise, came in the form of a bowed head, a narrowed gaze. âAnd to rescue the prince, I assume.â
You shrugged, the gesture alone threatening to cost you your balance. âIâm sure theyâd prefer if I didnât. I think theyâve got someone else for that â a lord, or maybe a king. Someone more befitting than a filthy criminal, surely.â
At that, Malleus felt the ghost of a smile tug at the corner of his lips. Novelty was rare, this far into his everlasting life, and he could not say heâd ever had a prisoner sent after his head. âWhat sort of crime gets you sent to the lair of a monster?â
You brightened at the question. âThievery,â you answered, pride overshadowing your exhaustion. âI could either face you or let them cut off my hands and, well, I find those to be quite essential to my burgeoning career.â
This time, you earned an airy laugh, a reflexive flick of his tail. He took another moment to evaluate you before speaking. âYou are tired, thief.â
It wasnât a question, but you answered regardless. âIt was a long journey. You arenât an easy monster to reach.â
âAnd injured, presumably by the fangs of some great beast of legend.â
âRight again.â You paused, then added, âIf there are any legends about wolves, I mean.â
âAnd hungry.â Your smile fell. When you failed to respond, he went on. âMay I invite you to share a meal with me before our battle?â
He watched as you swallowed, as you straightened. Your sword was pulled from the ground and allowed to hang limply at your side as you stared up at him with such a hopeful expression â his heart, had it not been so terribly calloused, mightâve broken at the sight alone. âWell,â you started, your humor gone in exchange for pure, unabashed desperation. âI suppose I canât refuse such a kindly offered invitation.â
With no further conversation, he stepped to the side, raising his staff to the tower. After only a moment, the endless cobblestone pulled away to reveal a simple, wooded door â already open and awaiting his entry. Smiling, he motioned for you to follow him, and without protest, you obeyed.
~
You ate, to put it politely, like a starving animal.
Thereâd been an attempt at decency when you first sat down at the opposing head of his banquet table, a gallant effort to make use of the flatware arranged into neat, never-ending lines on either side of your plate, but what little energy you had for such pleasantries was depleted quickly as your attention was dedicated entirely to the whims of your empty stomach. Countless other dishes decorated the table â ranging from fine delicacies fit for the pallets of kings to common staples even the lowest of peasantry wouldâve been familiar with, but Malleus was content to nurse a goblet of dark, herbed wine as he watched you bask in the feast.
Only after youâd gotten your fill did you seem to remember that you had company, your expression taking on a sheepish note. âThis is what they brought me to trial for. Trespassing, I mean,â you began, and Malleus hummed in acknowledgement. âIt was a baronâs manor â not quite a castle, but close to it. I heard he had the most beautiful gardens on this continent, and at the time, it seemed unreasonable to have to wait for an invitation just to take a look.â
âI thought you were a thief?â
âYou must have the wrong person. Iâve been many things, but never a thief.â You leaned back in your chair. âIâm afraid Iâve always been too tender-hearted for that kind of thing. I could never stand to insult my hosts.â
âSuch a considerate guest I have,â he said, cocking his head to the side. âI suppose I wonât have to worry about being robbed blind if I let you stay the night, then.â
You shook your head, feigning ego. âI would never, dear dragon. Your reclusive prince, on the other handââ
Whatever you mightâve gone on to say was swiftly replaced with a sudden gasp as every torch within sight burst into a pillar of vicious emerald flame, casting the dining room in a blinding, sickly green before dying out just as abruptly as itâd erupted. Malleus let out an exasperated breath, bringing a hand to his temples. âMy apologies. My patience has grownââ He cast a wayward glance toward the ash now seared into the stone walls, the ceiling. ââthin, over my time here.â
You allowed a beat to pass by in silence, then another. âYour prince,â you said, finally. âIs he important to you?â
âI can think of nothing I value more.â The answer came easily, even if the intensity of his sentiment surprised him. âAn old friend asked me to ensure his safety. Iâve performed my role dutifully ever since.â The taste of blood rose into the back of his throat, but he drowned it out with another long sip from his goblet. âThey used to send entire armies to reclaim him, then lone knights, then the occasional adventurer. You might be the first human to come seeking my head in two or three decades.â
Your smile took on a shy lilt, your eyes drifting to the table. âI wasnât really supposed to come after you, either. Most people just take it as an exile, but they gave me a sword, andâŠâ It was your turn to laugh, now, to be surprised with yourself. âI didnât have anywhere else to go. I thought, even if I donât get to rescue any princes, it could be nice to see how much of the fairy tale is true.â
âAnd youâre satisfied with what youâve found?â
âNot entirely,â you admitted. âBut Iâm glad I met you, dear dragon.â
After some hesitation, he pushed himself to his feet and closed the distance between you. You stiffened, your gaze flitting blatantly toward the sole exit, but you didnât attempt to flee as he pulled the closest seat in front of you and fell into it. âMay I see your leg?â
You were far more than reluctant, but complied. The material of your travel weary trousers was pulled above your knee, the strips of fabric youâd attempted to fashion into bandages cut away with his own pitch-black talons. The wound was worse than heâd assumed, more severe than he assumed. Ragged skin stretched from your knee to your ankle, harsh puncture marks littering what little flesh was still in-tact. The stress of your journey had prevented the brunt of the damage from healing, and even without the use of his advanced senses, he wouldâve been able to feel the heat radiating off of your skin, the first signs of infection beginning to set in. You were lucky youâd made it to his tower before the fever spread. His territory was cruel to the most resilient of creatures, and you seemed far from resilient.
âI have a salve in my collection that should aid in your recovery. That, paired with a few days of bed rest, should have you on your feet again in a weekâs time.â Not a lie, but not far from one, either. Heâd mended worse with a snap of his fingers, but there was no reason you should have to be burdened with such knowledge. âIf you can find it within yourself to share a roof with a monster and delay our duel yet again, I can provide room and board while you recover.â
Your laugh was bright and strained. âYouâre terribly kind to someone who came here to take your life.â
âAnd youâre very trusting of a creature who could easily end yours.â He let his pointed claws scrape over your bare skin, prolonging his evaluation. âThink of it as a show of my gratitude. My time here is well-spent, but tends to pass slowly. Visitors, whether benevolent or malicious, help to color my days.â
âThen I will have to be the most colorful visitor youâve ever had,â you chimed, your grin renewed with fresh vigor. Clearly, you were not the type of mortal who could go long without a task. âIâll make you wait on me hand and foot and bend to my every whim, until the thought of encountering another human being makes you sick. When Iâm done, there might even be a dragon in this tower worth slaying.â
His only response was a steady nod, a low hum. He stood and, in the same motion, hooked one arm under the bend of your knees and another around your waist, lifting you into the air before you had the chance to so much as think to pull away. Instinctually, you attempted to re-balance yourself against him, and Malleus couldnât help himself â laughing as he pulled you to his chest. âIf I am to dote on you to the point of sickness, then let me start now. Youâre in no state to walk on your own.â
You opened your mouth as if to complain, but anything you mightâve said was deemed too unimportant to warrant the effort. Your smile softened, your eyes falling shut as you rested your head against his shoulder. You lingered there, quiet and content, as he carried you through the halls of what would come to be your home.
~
Your prescribed period of bed rest came and went. Your bruises healed, then your leg (although you still tended to limp during particularly heavy rainstorms), and your exhaustion was replaced by a buzzing sort of restlessness. He never asked you to leave, and after some time, you seemed to stop expecting him to. You spoke rarely of your past (aside from the ever-changing series of events that led you to his tower, of course) and never of your future. When Malleus was in one of his more indulgent moods, he allowed himself to believe that, when he did catch you looking in his direction with such a glimmering worry in your eyes, you werenât afraid of him, but of the possibility that he might send you away.
Despite your claims of spoiled houseguests and encumbered hosts, he was only driven to near-madness once while sharing your company. Itâd been shortly after you instated yourself as a resident of his tower, rather than a fleeting visitor, and took to exploring your new dwelling without reservation. Itâd been his own fault, really. Heâd forgotten to warn you away from the upper wing, to resketch the protective runes heâd long-since allowed to fade, but such rationality had escaped him as he stood in the doorway, his mind empty and his eyes trained on your kneeling figure. He watched, paralyzed, as you raised a hand, reaching towards the marble slab, and then he was behind you â the points of his talons grazing the skin of your throat before he managed to restrain himself, curling his fist around the collar of your shirt, instead. Without warning, he hauled you off your feet, ignoring the half-choked shriek you let out in response.
His eyes fell to Silver, searching for any signs of harm, of disruption. Of course, Silver was unchanged. His colorless hair remained fanned over his velvet-cushioned pillow, the silk sheets and hand-stitched quilts still folded neatly at the foot of his bed â waiting to be put to use when the weather turned in autumn. Malleus took a moment to observe the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, the gentle movement behind his closed eyes, before letting out a breath of relief and turning to you. âI donât recall giving you permission to enter this chamber.â
âSorry, Iâ I was just looking around, and I saw the flowers on the doorââ Silverâs own craftsmanship, preserved from the ravages of time by Malleusâ spell work. Heâd painted them as soon as he was old enough to hold a brush, along with matching murals on his bedroom walls that hadnât survived the passing ages. ââI got curious, thatâs all. Is this the prince I was sent after?â
Malleus set his jaw, straightening his hunched posture. ââŠit is,â he answered, eventually. He let go of your collar and let you stumble onto your feet. âHis name is Silver. I never knew him by any titles.â
Malleusâ gaze shifted to you, but your eyes remained fixed on Silver. âHeâs beautiful.â
Despite himself, he felt the edge of his lips turn downward. He rested a hand on your shoulder, and you seemed to recover from your daze, turning to face him with a hopeful smile. âDo you know when heâs going to wake up?â
Malleus felt a coil of heat form in the back of the throat. The taste of ash laid heavy over his tongue, but he swallowed back his guilt and forced himself to respond. âIn another hundred years, perhaps,â he mused, his tone melodic and detached. âThereâs no known cure for a curse like his.â
A phantom of disappointment flickered across your expression, but it was suppressed quickly. Rather, you turned your attention outward â to the heavy, woven curtains draped over each crystalline window. âWill you help me let in some light? I hate to insult your taste, but itâs terribly depressing in here, andââ You brightened, taking him by the sleeve and tugging gingerly. âWe donât want his highness to have any nightmares, do we?â
With some reluctance, Malleus nodded. âLight, but nothing else.â When you failed to acknowledge him, he caught you by the wrist, squeezing with just enough pressure for your smile to falter. âLight, but nothing else. Do you understand?â
Your eyes darted back to Silver, but only for a moment. He was thankful for that â for your restraint. A second longer, and his true nature mightâve overshadowed his better judgement. âOf course, dear dragon. Nothing else.â
He inhaled sharply, then let go of you altogether.
It was a choice that, in the approaching months, he would only come to regret.
~
âThis is what they banished me for, you know.â
âThis?â
âYes, this exactly.â You propped your chin on his chest, positioning yourself to more easily card your fingers through his hair. He let his eyes fall shut, basking in the warmth of your affection, of your bare skin pressed into his. Your clothes laid discarded on the grass around you, one of his wings bent and raised to shield you from the harsh light of the setting sun. He would have to get you back to the tower, soon. Heâd always been indifferent to the deadly chill of night, but you â in your precious, delicate mortality â were not so durable. âActually, not quite â I donât think I ever made it to this part. It was the first time Iâd ever attended a royal ball, and I happened to dance with a young lady so breath-taking, I couldnât help but drop to one knee and dedicate my heart to her the moment our hands touched.â You sighed, feigning remorse. âLittle did I know that she was the princess that ball was being thrown for, and so moved by my passion, she refused to let me out of her embrace until I agreed to marry her. Of course, her father â the king, as the fathers of princesses tend to be â couldnât have that. Itâs a shame, really. We wouldâve made a gorgeous couple.â
Malleus pursed his lips, fighting back a smile. âAnd what does that make me? The next scorned lover of a silver-tongued rouge?â
âOh, no. If you asked me to marry you,â You propped yourself up, pressing a kiss into the curve of his jaw. âThereâd be nothing in the world that could stop me, dear dragon.â
Your hand fell to his cheek, and wistfully, you lulled him into a kiss â shallow but lingering, punctuated with a playful nip at his bottom lip. You pulled back with a smile, another quick peck to his cheek. You moved to say something, but he interrupted you, as mournful as he was to cut off such a precious moment so callously. âI found your wildflowers.â
Immediately, your expression fell. âI made sure not toââ
âI know, beloved, I know.â You knew better than to lay a hand on Silver. Your small bouquet had been left on the corner of his bed, another additional chain of asters and lavender braided into one of the longer strands of his waist-length hair. As much as he wished he could say he was only concerned for Silverâs well-being, it wouldnât have been the truth. Something else, something darker, had accompanied the discovery â something it would be better for you to stay ignorant of. âWeâve talked about this. Silver is vulnerable, in his current condition. Even the simplest luxury is an unspeakable risk.â
Your shoulders dropped, your body going slack against his. You bowed your head, burying your face in the dip of his shoulder, and despite his frustration with you, he didnât push you away. âIâm sorry. It just feels so cruel to let him suffer alone.â
âHeâs never been alone.â His tone was more curt than heâd meant it to be. âHeâs always had me.â
âI know, butââ He expected you to raise your hair, to flash him that brilliant grin. Instead, you only settled against him, speaking softly into the crook of his neck. âHe just seems so sad.â
Malleus took a deep breath, clenching his eyes shut.
Then, before he could let himself think better of it, he wrapped an arm around your waist. In one fluid motion, he turned you over â leaving you on your back, one of his knees planted on either side of your waist, your form tucked safely underneath his. His kiss was less gentle than your own â that deep, aching sort of hunger overwhelming his cautiousness as his tongue raked over yours, as he groaned unabashedly into your mouth. You returned his affection emphatically; your fingers soon knotted in his hair, your eager touch preventing so much as the thought of distance between your body and his. Because there never would be distance between you and him. Because there was no reason you should ever have to be taken away from him.
Hours later, when the last traces of light had faded and the stars were painted in swirling patterns across the sky, he would carry you back to his tower â unconscious and pliable in his arms. That would be the first night you spent in his bed, and as he laid there with you, he couldnât help but imagine how wonderful it would be if you never left.
~
The runes carved into Silverâs door were redrawn, Malleusâ enchantments refreshed, and your bittersweet sympathy slowly rotted into a distinctly bland melancholy. You didnât speak of him (Malleus could only wonder how you ever managed to speak of anyone when so many of his marks so often decorated your skin), but he noticed new scratches around the well-rusted lock on Silverâs door, caught you braiding chains of daisies and crowns of marigolds with no intended recipient in mind, and at night, you tended to slip out of his hold and wander. Sometimes, he waited for you, lying awake as you hunted for whatever solace there was to find in the empty halls of an ancient tower. Most nights, tonight, he chased after you.
He found you in a window near the towerâs highest room, laid across the wooden sill, your back propped against the empty frame. He didnât ask to join you â wordlessly lowering himself to the floor at your feet. As if by reflex, your hand fell to his horns, your thumb tracing over a particular ridge near the base as you broke the quiet. âHave ever told you why Iâm here, dear dragon?â
Countless times, but he still played along. âWho has my heart been stolen by today, beloved?â
âA murderer,â you said, hollowly. âAnd not a particularly clever one, at that.â
He waited for you to go on, to spin some elaborate tale of love and loss and betrayal and poor humor, but you only lapsed back into silence, your gaze turning back to the pitch-black valley. He watched your vacant expression for a moment, then another before letting his eyes fall shut and resting his cheek against your thigh.
~
Malleus had expected there to be more anger than this.
You were in a similar position to one youâd taken the first time you stumbled into Silverâs chambers â kneeling beside his marble bed, your ever-weary eyes fixed on the unknowing object of your adoration. The only difference was that, today, Silverâs hand was raised to your lips, now slightly parted in shock. He didnât have to guess at the source of your astonishment. In front of you, Silver was sitting up. His posture was unsteady, his eyes barely open, but the obvious was undeniable.
He was awake.
To think, there was something of merit to Liliaâs stories of true love after all.
Rather than anger, rage, pure and undiluted fury, an odd sort of calm settled over his blank mind as you snapped in his direction. Your astonishment turned to horror in an instant. âMalleus, I didnâtâ I was only trying toââ
He put you out of your mercy quickly. He raised his staff and, propelled by some unseen force, you were torn away from Silverâs bedside and thrown against the nearest walls â the force of the collision far from fatal, but enough to leave you limp and unconscious. With your safety ensured, he stepped forward, approaching Silver. He was awake, but only just. So many decades of uninterrupted sleep would not be so willing to release him from their taloned clutches without a struggle, and there was a certain dream-like lull to the way his eyes skirted over the limited scenery before settling on Malleus, his features immediately softening in relief. âMalleus?â
âIâm here.â Malleus allowed himself a small smile before bringing the end of his staff to Silverâs forehead. âYou can rest, brother.â
There was just enough time for the edges of Silverâs lips to turn downward before he collapsed back onto the marble slab. Malleus would arrange him later on. For now, his attention turned to you.
He gathered your crumpled form in his arms and carried you through the halls of his lonely tower, before stepping into the clear air and fresh heat of the valley. He laid you in the tall grass and, after taking a moment to appreciate your peaceful expression, brought a hand to your face, cupping your cheek tenderly. The spell came to him instinctually, but he took his time, mourning the loss of your time together with each mumbled word. That was a silver-lining of immortality, though. Infinite time allowed for infinite repetition, and he couldnât imagine giving up the opportunity to fall in love with you again.
When he was done, your eyes fluttered open, a smile quickly finding its way to your lips. âHello, dragon.â You gazed darted to either side nervously, your mind struggling to catch up with your clever tongue. âI would love to introduce myself, but itâs the funniest thing â I canât seem to remember what Iâm doing here.â
He bit back a smile. You tried to force yourself into a more dignified position, but barely managed to get an arm underneath you before pausing, wincing, reaching for the back of your head and coming away with blood smeared across your fingertips. Malleus did what he could to hide his delight.
âYouâre a thief. You injured yourself attempting to scale my tower. It was an impressive effort, but tragically unnecessary.â
This time, he couldnât hide the wide, simpering grin that came to rest across his lips.
âI was always going to invite you inside.â
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere imagines#yandere oneshot#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#twisted wonderland imagines#yandere twisted wonderland#twst x reader#yandere twst#twst imagines#malleus x reader#yandere malleus#yanderecore#yancore
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