stuckinabookorsomething

[stuckinabookorsomething]

DATE EVERYTHING IS SO GOOD SO HAVE A DIRK SMUT FIC! Reader is intented 2 be female! (BTW for this, Harper and Dirk dated, but never had s*x. Why? Because only you get that privilege in my eyes lmfao)

You knew that Harper and Dirk had something going on.

Always bickering back and forth. The constant arguments made you very annoyed and worried.

So when you finally stepped in, and suggested they take a break, they both accepted. You were grateful that Harper wasn't angry at you because she knew you liked Dirk.

Harper was like a sister you never had. She was full of issues, sure, but hey, isn't everybody?

And then there was Dirk. The man who, despite his flaws, (and clothing) swept you off your feet.

Harper, surprisingly, was supportive of your feelings. After a few months of her and Dirk's breakup, you had a chat with her about your day, and she brought up the fact that it was valentines day.

"Look, Dirkie can be a bit of a hassle, but if you really wanna get him to get you dirty, then you should wear this!" Harper held up a black lingerie set with rhinestones.

"HARPER!" Your face went beet red.

The hamper only giggled. "Relax, this isn't mine! I ordered it online for you, and it came today! Though I didn't expect to see Dorian holding the lingerie when I got to the door! Guess he got curious and opened the box, hehe!"

You hesitantly took the lingerie and went up to your room, not wanting to chat any longer out of embarrassment.

Once you got to your room, you shut and locked the door. Then you put the lingerie on, though you felt shy about it.

"Hm..." You looked into your mirror. Well, it fit you. Definitely emphasized your curves.

"Ah, there you are!" The closet doors opened and Dirk came out. "What took you so long-..." his face grew red as he took in your outfit.

"Oh, Dirk! Hey, um..." You looked down, too shy to explain yourself.

Well, here goes nothing.

"Happy...valentines day..." You weakly spoke, still looking at the ground incase this went horribly wrong.

But soon, you felt a smooth hand guide your chin upwards, so now you were making eye contact with the gorgeous man.

"Well, well. Bats and I didn't expect such a...lovely surprise~" he whispered in your ear, pulling you up against him.

"Um...the surprise was mostly meant for you, actually..." You mumbled into his chest.

He looked over at the body pillow in the closet, then chuckled. "Bats says that's fine. Now then..."

Dirk guided you to your bed, climbing on top of you with lust in his eyes. "Fuuuuck.. You're gorgeous like this..." he purred.

"Pfft, you wanna be in charge? Too bad...HIYAH!" You sprang up and pinned him down on the mattress, then sat on his lap.

Dirk looked surprised, and flustered. His face got more red as you gently choked his neck.

"Like that~?"

"A-ahh..nnghh.." he looked so weak now that you took the reigns.

The advice Sophia gave you when you went to her for advice weeks before? Totally worked!

You giggled and helped him out of his clothing, throwing it across the room. You could feel his hard member against your ass as you did so.

"Alright. Let's get you dirty~" you snickered, slowly removing his pants for him.

Oh god.

He was a great size.

You licked your lips and started sucking his member, making the man groan and look away.

"O-ohhhh..." He bit his lip, the sensations washing over his body in the best possible way.

Dirk looked down at you and gently took your hair into his hands. Then he started pushing you down further on his cock.

You complied and bobbed your head up and down, moaning to give him some small vibrations.

"God- k-keep doing that and- I'm gonna-...oh..OH-" He gripped the sheets.

You pulled away at the last second, licking your lips with a smirk. "I want you to get me dirty, you know. So, you can't cum quite yet~"

With a strangled groan of frustration, the man helped you out of your outfit. Then, he held your hips as you slowly sat on his dick.

"Ah...Dirk..." You groaned in pleasure.

"Like that, doll face?" He taunted.

Because of that, you started bouncing up and down on his member, which immediately made him moan.

"Don't talk like that unless you wanna be punished!" You teased, grinding against his crotch.

"Ah~! Gods..! Oh, oh~!" His grip on your hips tightened, nails digging into your flesh. Not that you cared if it hurt later, you were feeling too good to stop now.

After a few minutes, the knot in your stomach started getting tighter.

"OH GOD~! YES! YES YES, YESSS~! DIRK~!"

"Cmon, cum for me! Please- please- I love you!"

You knelt down and kissed him roughly, and he wasted zero time in reciprocating the action.

With muffled moans, you both reached your long awaited climax. You could feel his juices filling you up, and God did it feel great.

Pulling away from each other, you rested your forehead against his, chuckling tiredly. "I...I love you too, Dirk. Always have.."

He grinned and pecked your cheek, holding you close. "I'm relieved. Happy valentines day, babe.."

"Happy valentines day to you, too, Dirk." You snuggled into his chest as he peppered kisses across your face.

~~~

"Have they finally stopped?" Dorian groaned, sitting on the couch.

Volt chuckled, a small smirk on his face. "It sounds like it, but...don't count on it!"

Harper was grinning. "Hehehe! My plan worked!"

Eddie came over with some drinks for everybody. "I will just...act like I didn't hear anything."

Suddenly, ShadowLord came out from the shadows of the sofa, a somewhat mischievous grin spreading across his skull face.

"It seems my penumbra has had the ride of her life, fwa ha ha hah ha ha!"

Harper smiled. "Oh, you were spying on them? I like how you think!"

PLZ REBLOG IF U WANT LMFAO K BYE))

[stuckinabookorsomething]

x reader fanfic writers i just wanted to tell that i love you guys, please keep making fics 🙏🙏 love yall, thanks and have a good day

[stuckinabookorsomething]

Devil May Cry: Help Wanted

The bar was loud—too loud for a night when the city outside was drowning in rain and ghosts. Thunder cracked like a whip across the sky, rattling the windows in their frames. Inside, the crowd moved in slow, chaotic rhythm—laughter, low music, the scrape of glasses against wood. None of it touched her.

Y/N sat alone at the bar, fingers wrapped around a half-finished drink, eyes vacant. She looked like someone trying to forget what remembering felt like.

“Need a refill?” the bartender asked, nodding toward her glass.

She barely turned her head. “Whiskey. Whatever’s cheap.”

He grunted and moved on. She didn’t watch him go.

Instead, her gaze drifted to the warped bulletin board near the bathrooms, cluttered with old show flyers, roommate ads, a missing cat from two winters ago. But one sheet stood out—a crisp white flyer, taped up crooked like it didn’t want to be found.

PRIVATE WORK. DANGEROUS PAY. NO NAMES. JUST SKILLS.

No company. No logo. Just a number, stamped in plain black ink.

Y/N rose, peeled the paper off the board, and returned to her seat just as the bartender placed the refilled glass in front of her with a soft clink—but this time, he didn’t walk away. He nodded toward the flyer now lying between them. “You thinking about calling it?”

She didn’t answer right away, just ran her finger along the smeared edge of the paper. “You know who left it?”

The bartender dried his hands on a threadbare rag. “Yeah. Came in last week. Didn’t drink much—just coffee, black as sin. Left the flyer, paid in cash, and tipped like he was trying to apologize for something.”

Her brows drew in slightly. “What’d he look like?”

He leaned back against the shelf, like the memory had weight. “Tall. Broad. White hair, real silver—not the dyed kind. Wore this long red coat, old leather, like he hadn’t taken it off in years. Looked like someone who knew his way around both a fistfight and a funeral.”

Y/N sipped her drink. “Not exactly your typical job recruiter.”

The bartender smirked. “He wasn’t. Had this look in his eye, like he’d seen Hell, got bored, and came back looking for something stronger.”

She glanced at the flyer again. “You know what the job actually is?”

He shrugged. “Far as I know, they’re private investigators. Sometimes bounty hunters. The kind that take the jobs nobody else wants—or the ones that don’t exist on paper.”

“I don’t put up flyers, though. Most of my work finds me.”

The bartender didn’t say anything to that—just gave a quiet grunt, like he wasn’t surprised.

Y/N nodded to herself, the decision already half-formed. She folded the flyer once, neatly, and slid it into the inside pocket of her jacket. Close to the chest. Somewhere it wouldn’t fall out by accident. She picked up her glass, the whiskey now gone warm, and knocked back the rest in one smooth motion. The burn grounded her more than it hit her. Pulling a few bills from her wallet, she set them on the counter without counting. The bartender didn’t reach for them right away.

“Good luck,” he said.

Y/N stood, adjusting her jacket collar. “I stopped believing in luck.”

He gave a faint smile. “Then you’ll do fine.”

She didn’t look back as she walked to the door, pushing it open into the wet black of the city. The air hit her cold and sharp—rain still falling, steady now, no drama left in the storm, just weight.

[stuckinabookorsomething]

Baby Blues

Pairing - Sylus x f!MC

Summary - In the first two weeks of being new parents, the dynamic hasn’t been quite what you and Sylus expected. He’s eager to be involved, but your daughter doesn’t seem to have warmed to him.

Word count - 2.7k

⚠️Warning⚠️ - Mentions of pregnancy and childbirth. Hurt/comfort, fluff, and a little sprinkle of angst.

Your newborn didn’t like Sylus.

It sounded ridiculous, but you know he was thinking it too. You didn’t have the gall to say it out loud—not that it even needed to be said. The fact was definitely lingering between you both.

You never thought much of why she would wriggle and kick up a storm in your stomach whenever he touched the swell of your belly, but you now had an inclination that it was because she didn’t like his hands there.

It was strange and upsetting, but he didn’t seem too hurt by it so far, only silently helpless as he watched you do everything. You were two weeks postpartum, so your emotions were already all over the place. It seemed as though Sylus was holding his own feelings back to make room for yours, and when you had asked him about it, he simply kissed your forehead and reassured you that he was fine. All while your screaming daughter cried for you against his chest.

Not that he opened up to you all that often. You did manage to get things out of him with a push sometimes, but he was like an unyielding gate, refusing to open to anyone.

Your exhaustion was only adding to the toll on your fragile emotions. The baby only wanted your touch, and sleep was almost impossible for you because of that very reason. Only you could feed her. Only you could soothe her. Only you could touch her.

That was one thing that was really getting to Sylus. The bloodshot whites of your eyes as you rocked the fussy newborn to sleep and fed her at all hours of the morning. The barely touched plates of food that ended up stone cold and in the bin. Not to mention the completely non-existent ten minutes you needed to at least have a wash without having to run out of the shower to her aid.

He must have felt quite useless in the weeks where you should be recovering, but he didn’t want you to worry about his feelings by indulging you in his thoughts. 

Your pregnancy had been smooth, ending with a good twenty-seven hours of rather torturous labour, and pushing that went on for an agonising two hours. It had all been worth it, though. Your little bundle of joy with tufts of platinum hair had finally greeted you both with a piercing wail, but eased her protests once placed against your heaving chest.

You just wished she would settle with both parents.

It was another day of desperate wailing, your arms becoming so heavy with the exertion of having no option but to hold her. You tried to put her in her pram for Sylus to push her around for a while, but her cries only increased to the point of her little face turning purple. You couldn’t sit and just listen to it, and you absolutely would not ignore her—no matter how much Sylus pushed for you to go and get some sleep.

“She wants me,” you say for what felt like the millionth time that week.

Sylus was evidently reluctant to stop trying, but he wouldn’t keep you from her. He conceded with a defeated huff, watching your every move as you gently lifted your screeching daughter out of the plush pram. Her screams died down quickly as you placed her against your chest, her ear-piercing wails whittling down to soft whimpers.

“Of all the dangerous paths I’ve crossed and violent challenges I’ve encountered, it’s our newborn daughter who finally defeats me,” he mumbles quietly, trying to make a lighthearted joke about it.

You tried to smile at his attempt to add a bit of humour to the situation, but the comment only made you cry. Hard.

“Hey.” He immediately stepped toward you, rubbing a large hand up and down your back soothingly. You had to give it to him, his patience with you in the last two weeks had been immaculate. “Don’t cry, sweetie.”

You couldn’t stop, your ragged breaths and shaking shoulders refusing to relent. “I d-don’t get it,” you bawl. “What are we doing d-differently?”

Sylus sighed, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. His hand continued to rub soothing circles against your back to ease your upset. “Well, she did live inside you for nine months. Besides, you didn’t exactly like me either when we first met.”

He smiled faintly, tilting his head down to capture your gaze. Despite the obvious tease, he still seemed to be holding himself back. It was frustrating him more than he wanted to admit to you. You knew he was protecting your feelings, but you wished he would just show some sense of vulnerability.

You don’t dare set your sleeping daughter down in her moses basket, knowing full well that she would just wake straight back up. So the rest of the afternoon is spent with your tiny newborn curled up against your chest, a few feeding and changing breaks in between.

Once the day turned into night, nothing in the world sounded more appealing to you than a hot shower, a hot meal, and a hot cup of tea. But letting her scream and cry while you did that was not an option. It wasn’t fair on her, and it wasn’t fair on Sylus.

He didn’t leave you unless he absolutely had to throughout the day. You watched him every time he heard a little whimper from the baby, his hands flexing and twitching. Every time you had to get up to do something for her, he was either at your back or side.

He wanted to help.

The chef brought through a very large bowl of marinated chicken and pasta for you, upon Sylus’s instruction. As soon as the bowl was set on the little table beside your recliner chair, you almost began drooling. You hadn’t managed to eat much at all in the chaos, and Sylus wasn’t amused when you didn’t even get the chance to finish the two biscuits he’d brought you earlier in the day.

You reached a careful hand over to the fork, not even lifting it before your daughter began to wriggle and whine in your other arm. Dropping it immediately, you retract your hand, only making it halfway back to the fussy newborn before long, slender fingers wrapped themselves around your wrist.

“No,” Sylus says firmly. “Absolutely not.”

Your initial response is to immediately go on the defence. “She’s cry—”

“I know she’s crying,” he interrupted tightly. “I know. But you’re going to eat while your food is hot, and you’re going to do it without our screaming daughter on your chest.”

“But—” 

“No buts.”

He had that commanding look in his eye, the one that would intimidate most, but was only used on you when he was especially adamant on you doing something necessary for yourself. 

You were a little relieved to see him so passionate, if you were being honest. He had been treading on eggshells to not upset you or the baby for fourteen whole days, and it wasn’t good for anyone. You felt the tension on him every time you both managed to get into bed together for more than five minutes. He needed this little outburst.

“This needs to stop now. I’m going to figure her out, and you are going to eat. Alright?” His tone left no room for argument, and the more your daughter protested against your intention to eat, the more hungry and tired you felt.

It wasn’t easy, but you handed her off to him carefully, swallowing a lump in your throat. You couldn’t take your eyes off of her distressed little face as Sylus attempted to cradle her.

You were practically twitching, your legs about to push the footrest of the recliner down to retrieve her in the first thirty seconds she was away from you. Sylus noticed immediately, and pushed it back up with his foot before you could close it down fully.

“She’s not in any danger,” he said calmly, but his whole body was visibly tense. “She’s right here, I won’t leave the room. Just eat, sweetie.”

You wanted to protest further, but he wasn’t going to yield this time. His eyes remained trained on you until you finally sagged back into the chair, and it wasn’t until you picked up your fork that he finally turned away, focusing on the distraught newborn kicking up a storm against his chest.

He held her the way you did, one hand cupped over her head to keep it steady while the other hand softly patted her back. Why she didn’t want to be near him was an utter mystery to you, he wasn’t doing anything incorrectly. 

You couldn’t eat while the two most important people in your life were quite clearly in a distressing situation before you. “Are you alright?” You asked him gently, hoping that he would answer you.

“I will be if you eat,” he quickly responded, not looking at you.

Sighing, you stab a slice of the chicken onto your fork, just looking at it for a moment. Your brain had managed to kick itself into gear as you forged a new approach to his silence. 

This was an opportunity to head in the right direction.

“I’ll eat if you speak to me.”

Blood red eyes shot in your direction, an eyebrow raised. “Blackmail?”

You quickly shook your head. “You were right, this does need to stop. Starting with you shutting yourself off from me.” 

“Eat.”

The forked piece of chicken points straight at his unamused face. “Talk.”

He shook his head a little in clear annoyance, the stress consuming him. Your daughter continued to wail, immune to the warmth and safety of his arms. He was basically trapped after promising to remain in the room with you.

Your bleary eyes held his irises of rubies, neither of you conceding. It was a mental challenge to ignore the fragrant aroma of garlic and fresh basil beneath your nose, but you were not eating until at least one of the two beautiful people before you had calmed down.

Sylus visibly swallowed, finally giving in as he noticed your lack of a bluff. “Do you think she knows?” His voice was quiet, barely heard over your newborn’s cries.

“Knows what?”

He opened his mouth to speak, but shut it again, nodding his head towards the piece of chicken on your fork. You shovel it into your gob, eager for him to continue.

His eyes flicker down to your daughter before he speaks again. “Do you think she knows that I’ve done terrible things? Do you think that’s why she doesn’t like me?”

“I—” you grumble and roll your eyes as he nods to your plate of food again, waiting for you to take another mouthful that you end up having to speak through, “I don’t see how she could. Is that why you’ve been so quiet?”

The corner of his mouth curled upward ever-so-slightly. “Missing my tongue, kitten?”

You couldn’t help your own smile as his shoulders sagged a little from where they were practically touching his ears. It wasn’t often that he opened up to you like this. You almost always had to pry or throw in a proposition to coax him into speaking.

You took another bite of your food, moving the plate from the small table to your lap. “Do you really think she doesn’t like you?”

His smirk faded away quickly, a gentle thumb brushing over your daughter's head. She continued to cry, but the volume had dropped a little. “Do you not think that?” He asked.

You didn’t know how to answer that question. To tell the truth, you did think that, but not for the same reason he was thinking.

“I think she may be a little attached at the moment. We’re very different shapes and sizes. Maybe she feels—”

“Unsafe?” 

His tone had dropped an octave—something you didn’t think was possible considering the already bone-chilling vibrations of his voice. Never before had you witnessed him in a state of such vulnerability. He was insecure about this, and it was finally starting to show.

You went to stand up to be near him, but he immediately stepped forward to halt your movement.

“Eat.”

Not wanting to lose this free-speaking Sylus you had barely met before, you did as he said, twirling a fat mouthful of pasta onto your fork for extra brownie points.

You both remained in silence for a few moments, only your fork scraping against the bowl in your lap marrying with the sounds of your baby’s cries surrounding the small sitting room.

Sylus’s gaze didn’t leave the newborn cradled in his arms, a gentle sway in his hips as he tried to keep her moving. All you could do was study his composure, seeing it as it cracked.

After a moment, he looked back at you. “I don’t want to keep failing you.”

You coughed on the mouthful of the creamy pasta at his words, completely in awe of his confession.

Failing you? How did he get to that conclusion?

“You’ve done everything for her,” he continued, not allowing you to immediately reassure him. “I want to be able to do everything, too. For both of you.”

The all too familiar sting in your wet eyes built in intensity by the second, and you quickly found yourself sniffling.

Not only was he insecure about your daughter not feeling safe in his arms, but he felt that he’d failed you both in the past two weeks. It was heartbreaking for you to hear.

“Don’t cry—”

“You’re…fuck, Sylus. You’re not failing anyone,” you tuck your fork back into the pasta with a loud sniffle, ignoring his glare that silently demanded that you continue to eat. “How the hell did you come to that conclusion?”

He looked entirely reluctant to answer, his head dropping back down to stare at his tiny twin. You didn’t want him to stop speaking again, so you quietly picked your fork back up, hoping it would capture his attention.

The silence stretched between you as you made the effort to eat for his sake. Even your daughter's cries became a little weaker—like she was pitying him.

He didn’t look at you as he said, “I’m the bad guy. The boogie man. The kind of monster that parents threaten their kids with visits from in the middle of the night if they don’t brush their teeth before bed.”

“Not in our story, you’re not,” you quickly reassured him earnestly. “You’re the husband and father who keeps the monsters away from your family. That’s the only Sylus she will ever know. The real one.”

He still didn’t look up from the newborn, now almost completely silent in his arms, but you catch a subtle bob in his throat. You didn’t need him to respond to you. You knew you had said the right words to soothe that self-deprecating thought in his complicated mind. You could see it.

“Have I told you how perfect you were two weeks ago,” he asked, knowing full well that he’d told her every day since then.

Your mouth curled into a soft smile. Even after all these years together—after welcoming your first child into this scary, yet beautiful world—Sylus had no trouble giving you butterflies.

“I think you might’ve mentioned it,” you hummed softly.

And on that very note, the baby was fast asleep in his hold for the very first time in two whole weeks. His face didn’t reveal anything, but you knew he was relieved. All he wanted to do was make this easier for the both of you.

Finally, you had managed to figure out what the problem had been all this time.

“You were too tense,” you point out quietly, noticing how openly at ease he now was. “That’s what she didn’t like.”

He hummed in response, unable to tear his gaze away from the sleeping babe in his arms. You didn’t say anything further, letting him enjoy that special moment in peace while you proceeded to enjoy the rest of your meal.

Despite the challenges of becoming new parents, things were going to be alright from that point onwards.

A/N - Hello! I hope you enjoyed this oneshot, thank you so much for reading. Just to let you know, I do take requests ❤️

[stuckinabookorsomething]

Hahaha, yeah I’m already rewriting this into a full blown (multi part) fic. New plot, better plot. Better writing. Mostly because I actually ended up watching the first season of bridgerton so I understand the plot of that a lot better.

Author note: got this idea while watching bridgerton and pulling for wrio in genshin. I believe in lore nobility titles are no longer common but I had a vision of a bridgerton season x wriothesley quick fic.

First fic, no proofing just me writing this while wine drunk watching caseoh, honestly just a jumble of thoughts may actually write at some point, but just need my ideas out there.

Enjoy

Events like these were never really Y/N’s thing. Itchy dresses, entertaining boring men and the same conversations over and over again. No matter who the “fine” gentleman was, the same topics would be discussed. And yet despite Y/N’s persistent protests, her step mother insisted this season she must find a suitable bachelor otherwise she would be casted as an old maid, too old to marry, there to only watch as her younger sisters find suitable husbands and start families of their own, or settle with the first man her mother can find, an older lord, old enough to be her grandfather, but hopefull thanks to Y/N’s wonderful banter (topics not suitable for a young lady such as herself) that older gentleman certainly would look elsewhere.

Lady Y/N was currently standing against the wall of the ballroom of a weathly noble’s home. Lady Y/N pleaded not to go to the event tonight, but her step mother insisted that Y/N’s sister would receive a marriage proposal by the following morning, so the family would go to the masquerade dance to support her sister. Just was lady Y/N wanted to do, not read or explore Fontaine, but socialize with a bunch of mystery men of nobility. Fortunately, as lady Y/N was hiding against the wall, everyone seemed to ignore her presence. Or so she thought.

“I see you also are against socialization” a voice suddenly appears next to lady Y/N. Bringing her back to reality. Lady Y/N turns to see a gentleman standing next to her, his features hidden behind her black mask, preventing her from knowing what stuffy noble man was attempting to talk to her.

“Yes.” Lady Y/N says, crossing her arms and staring off into the crowd.

“And I take that you don’t want to be here.”

“What gave that away?”

“You are the only woman here not out socializing with the ton. Most women would be throwing them selves to any man that looks her way, due to the secrecy of the masks, such ladies can act any way they want without judgement from society.” The man states looking at Y/N, her blue eyes pericinf through the mask.

“I suppose you are right. I mean, this whole thing is utterly pointless. Ladies throwing themselves at men hoping for a proposal, while the man is living the high life. All women want him making him feel like he was on top on the world. It’s a mock of everything I know.”

“Some bold claims there miss. Sounds like someone has a bit of a backdown and some self respect. Impressive.”

“My claims may be bold but they are true. I mean do you think you can form a decent bond with someone while only having a few small exchanges knowing that the lady you would be marrying was trying to sell herself to every single ‘gentleman’ at this event?”

“I suppose you are right. Still a lady shouldn’t boldly claim her views to a hidden stranger.”

“I quite frankly do not care, sir.”

“Fair enough.”

Lady Y/N looks at the crowd, her eyes land on her step mother, staring at her with a glare indicating she wants Y/N to socialize in the crowd like a proper lady, sighing she pushes herself off the wall.

“Wait.” Y/n looks back at the man. Still leaning against the wall. “Care to dance miss?”

“Excuse me? Did you not listen to anything I said over the past 5 minutes?”

“I did. But I also see that lady over there. Her glare is intense. So do you care to dance?” The stranger extends his hand, offering to lead her to the floor.

Lady Y/N looks back at her step mother. Sighing she takes his hand allowing him to lead her to the floor to waltz. “Fair warning, I’m not the most graceful with dancing.”

“Me either.” The stanger looks bad, at the older lady, her eyes still following the two of you. “Do you know that lady in the blue mask? She is watching you like a hawk watching its prey.”

“Yes. My stepmother. She has intentions on arranging me to marry some older lord so I should not be socializing with others like this. And my presence here is to be a support for my sister, who may receive a proposal tomorrow pending tonight runs according to plan. But oh well, too late now.”

“I see, so you are betrothed then?” The stranger asks, the sudden closeness of the waltz makes Y/N realize just how blue his eyes really are. “Such a pity.”

“Flattery gets you nowhere sir. And no not if I have anything to do with it, I refuse to marry that old man, I mean he is my grandfather’s age for the archons’s sake.”

As the songs concludes, the bell chimes, indicating the end of the event.

Lady Y/N bows. “Thank you for the dance. I wish you the best in finding a lovely lady. I bid the a good night.” Y/N quickly turns and leaves the floor, leaving the stranger alone on the floor.

“Goodnight fair miss.” As the crowd clears out, the stranger chuckles to himself, removing his mask he walks up to the Judge of Fontaine, his old friend. “Neuvilette? A word, what do you know about that miss in black dress. Surly you can recognize most of your people with and without such simple face coverings.”

“If I recall correctly that would be Lady Y/N L/N. She is the eldest child of Lord L/N and his Kate wife. She is an interesting character to say the least. From what I can recall she studied at the academia in Sumeru and recently returned back to her family’s estate. Bright girl, I heard she considered applying for a position within the courts, thought I am not sure if the noble society would see that as a smart idea.”

“I see. Now our conversation makes sense.”

“I surely hope she did not offend you, Your Grace. I’m quite familiar with her father and step mother, need to to say something?”

“Nah. I actually quite enjoyed my conversation with her. Made leaving the fortress worth while. Have a great night Neuvilette.”

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The following day lady Y/N was pracringing her swordsmanship in the estate’s back garden. She can hear the sounds of someone approaching her family”s estate. Must be the suitor for her sister. Though Y/N can not understand how her sister is happy, she hopes this marriage gives her sister everything she could ask for and more. Shaking her head she returns to her sword. Striking the target once more. Y/N continues for a while till she her the annoying voice of her step mother calling her name. Must be time to meet the new brother in law. Lady Y/N tosses her sword to the ground sighing she heads inside. However when she arrives to the main calling room, her sister is no where to be scene. Instead her step mothers is there, forcing a smile.

“You called?”

“Y/N. Have you make his grace, duke wriothesley before?” Her step mother gestures to the man sitting on the couch. The man stood out like a sore thumb in the brightly decorated room. His dark hair with white streak and dark black, grey and red jacket looks odd in the bright yellow room her step mother’s is loved so dearly.

“She may not remember me, but we had an enlightens conversation last night.” The baritone voice that comes from the man echos inside Y/N’s mind, the voice soundly strangely familiar but not very known. “Sow thought about society and norms? Ring a bell?”

Y/N eyes widen, of course the one man she spoke to last night and boldly claimed her views would be the highest ranking noble in attendance. She really should have learned to watch her mouth by now. “Yes I do recall. Are you here to visit my sister? Shall I fetch her?”

“No Lady Y/N’s. I spoke to you step mother and she said it should be fine, but may we go for a walk in your garden?” The duke asks, the same piercing blue eyes standing out more now that y/n can fully she his face, a scar sitting just below his eye somehow makes his eyes stand out even more.

“Sure your grace, that sounds umm, wonderful.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Your family’s estate is lovely, lady Y/N. The gardens are magnificent.”

Y/N stops mid walk, surly they are far from little spies such as annoying siblings and ladies that work for her stepmother. “I’m sorry, but what are you doing here? How did you find me? I didn’t give you my name”

“Neuvilette knows his people quite well. I simply needed to see you again Lady Y/N’s.”

“I see. Look clearly you didn’t listen to my conversation. I’m not just any other lady in the-“

“I listened . That’s why I am here. You said most ladies throw themselves at the gentleman, which is true, except for one. You are an educated lady who wants to work within the court system, you are quite different. Tell me what do you know about the fortress?”

“Well, the fortress elves as the prison of Fontaine, allowing for its residents to be rehabilitated serving out their punishments in a more society format rather than traditional prisons, with you as duke and warden.”

“Correct. The fortress involves a special kind a governing, different from the dukes you have on the surface. It takes someone who is determined, educated and a little bold. Sound familiar?”

“Yes, your grace. I’m sorry,-“

“Y/N, I understand your reservations, but I am also doing this to help. That old lord is on his way as we speak, you really don’t have any other options.” Wriothesley reaches into his pocket pulling out a small box. He hands to Y/N. Y/n stands there holding the small box, the weight strangely heavy. Thought that may be from the weight of the subject matter. The last thing Y/N wanted to be was a trouphy wife, there to only make her husband seem better. Y/N looks at the road to her house seeing the older lord approaching, the reality of the situation hitting hard. Both choices weren’t ideal in her eyes, one seeming having a better chance for a decent life than the other. Still all she knew about rhe man who just gave her an engagement ring was his name and where he worked/lived. Surly not enough to agree to marrying. Though if she had to spread the rest of her life with someone, wriothesley did have a better appearing the the lord who looked as if he existed since the founding of Fontaine. Sighing she looks back to wriothesley, her eyes wide n panic or fear. Closing her eyes she takes a deep breath before turning her attention back to wriothesley.

“You even have a ring, your Grace.”

“I do.”

“I’m not going to be a trophy wife. I have my own expectations.”

“And we can discuss them at a later point Y/N. I promise. But you really should hurry, before she comes to grab you.” Y/N looks back at the estate, her step mother smiling walking to the garden with the lord.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sitting in the main calling room, your new fiancé talking amicably with your younger siblings about the wonders on being a duke, minus the whole prisoner aspect of it. You on the other hand like before watch from afar, leaning against the wall looking out the window as the old load leaves the estate, his attempts to propose to you were quickly shot down by your fiancé, to which the old man turned to your sister, which of course your step mother shot down immediately. You look at the ring wriothesley placed on your finger, it was simple which you loved, a ruby gem set neatly in the center matching wriothesley color pallet perfectly, and perhaps the fortress as a whole. There were still a lot of things left unanswered given that you maybe talked to your fiancé a total of 7 minutes, but you had an entire lifetime to figure out each other.

Luckily future private conversation should explain te expectations better than ones with family.

Your fiancé laughs at something your father says, look back to you hennold out his hand inviting you to join him in the conversation, you can’t help but smile, seems he already understood that you were to be equals in this partnership.

Author note: got this idea while watching bridgerton and pulling for wrio in genshin. I believe in lore nobility titles are no longer common but I had a vision of a bridgerton season x wriothesley quick fic.

First fic, no proofing just me writing this while wine drunk watching caseoh, honestly just a jumble of thoughts may actually write at some point, but just need my ideas out there.

Enjoy

Events like these were never really Y/N’s thing. Itchy dresses, entertaining boring men and the same conversations over and over again. No matter who the “fine” gentleman was, the same topics would be discussed. And yet despite Y/N’s persistent protests, her step mother insisted this season she must find a suitable bachelor otherwise she would be casted as an old maid, too old to marry, there to only watch as her younger sisters find suitable husbands and start families of their own, or settle with the first man her mother can find, an older lord, old enough to be her grandfather, but hopefull thanks to Y/N’s wonderful banter (topics not suitable for a young lady such as herself) that older gentleman certainly would look elsewhere.

Lady Y/N was currently standing against the wall of the ballroom of a weathly noble’s home. Lady Y/N pleaded not to go to the event tonight, but her step mother insisted that Y/N’s sister would receive a marriage proposal by the following morning, so the family would go to the masquerade dance to support her sister. Just was lady Y/N wanted to do, not read or explore Fontaine, but socialize with a bunch of mystery men of nobility. Fortunately, as lady Y/N was hiding against the wall, everyone seemed to ignore her presence. Or so she thought.

“I see you also are against socialization” a voice suddenly appears next to lady Y/N. Bringing her back to reality. Lady Y/N turns to see a gentleman standing next to her, his features hidden behind her black mask, preventing her from knowing what stuffy noble man was attempting to talk to her.

“Yes.” Lady Y/N says, crossing her arms and staring off into the crowd.

“And I take that you don’t want to be here.”

“What gave that away?”

“You are the only woman here not out socializing with the ton. Most women would be throwing them selves to any man that looks her way, due to the secrecy of the masks, such ladies can act any way they want without judgement from society.” The man states looking at Y/N, her blue eyes pericinf through the mask.

“I suppose you are right. I mean, this whole thing is utterly pointless. Ladies throwing themselves at men hoping for a proposal, while the man is living the high life. All women want him making him feel like he was on top on the world. It’s a mock of everything I know.”

“Some bold claims there miss. Sounds like someone has a bit of a backdown and some self respect. Impressive.”

“My claims may be bold but they are true. I mean do you think you can form a decent bond with someone while only having a few small exchanges knowing that the lady you would be marrying was trying to sell herself to every single ‘gentleman’ at this event?”

“I suppose you are right. Still a lady shouldn’t boldly claim her views to a hidden stranger.”

“I quite frankly do not care, sir.”

“Fair enough.”

Lady Y/N looks at the crowd, her eyes land on her step mother, staring at her with a glare indicating she wants Y/N to socialize in the crowd like a proper lady, sighing she pushes herself off the wall.

“Wait.” Y/n looks back at the man. Still leaning against the wall. “Care to dance miss?”

“Excuse me? Did you not listen to anything I said over the past 5 minutes?”

“I did. But I also see that lady over there. Her glare is intense. So do you care to dance?” The stranger extends his hand, offering to lead her to the floor.

Lady Y/N looks back at her step mother. Sighing she takes his hand allowing him to lead her to the floor to waltz. “Fair warning, I’m not the most graceful with dancing.”

“Me either.” The stanger looks bad, at the older lady, her eyes still following the two of you. “Do you know that lady in the blue mask? She is watching you like a hawk watching its prey.”

“Yes. My stepmother. She has intentions on arranging me to marry some older lord so I should not be socializing with others like this. And my presence here is to be a support for my sister, who may receive a proposal tomorrow pending tonight runs according to plan. But oh well, too late now.”

“I see, so you are betrothed then?” The stranger asks, the sudden closeness of the waltz makes Y/N realize just how blue his eyes really are. “Such a pity.”

“Flattery gets you nowhere sir. And no not if I have anything to do with it, I refuse to marry that old man, I mean he is my grandfather’s age for the archons’s sake.”

As the songs concludes, the bell chimes, indicating the end of the event.

Lady Y/N bows. “Thank you for the dance. I wish you the best in finding a lovely lady. I bid the a good night.” Y/N quickly turns and leaves the floor, leaving the stranger alone on the floor.

“Goodnight fair miss.” As the crowd clears out, the stranger chuckles to himself, removing his mask he walks up to the Judge of Fontaine, his old friend. “Neuvilette? A word, what do you know about that miss in black dress. Surly you can recognize most of your people with and without such simple face coverings.”

“If I recall correctly that would be Lady Y/N L/N. She is the eldest child of Lord L/N and his Kate wife. She is an interesting character to say the least. From what I can recall she studied at the academia in Sumeru and recently returned back to her family’s estate. Bright girl, I heard she considered applying for a position within the courts, thought I am not sure if the noble society would see that as a smart idea.”

“I see. Now our conversation makes sense.”

“I surely hope she did not offend you, Your Grace. I’m quite familiar with her father and step mother, need to to say something?”

“Nah. I actually quite enjoyed my conversation with her. Made leaving the fortress worth while. Have a great night Neuvilette.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The following day lady Y/N was pracringing her swordsmanship in the estate’s back garden. She can hear the sounds of someone approaching her family”s estate. Must be the suitor for her sister. Though Y/N can not understand how her sister is happy, she hopes this marriage gives her sister everything she could ask for and more. Shaking her head she returns to her sword. Striking the target once more. Y/N continues for a while till she her the annoying voice of her step mother calling her name. Must be time to meet the new brother in law. Lady Y/N tosses her sword to the ground sighing she heads inside. However when she arrives to the main calling room, her sister is no where to be scene. Instead her step mothers is there, forcing a smile.

“You called?”

“Y/N. Have you make his grace, duke wriothesley before?” Her step mother gestures to the man sitting on the couch. The man stood out like a sore thumb in the brightly decorated room. His dark hair with white streak and dark black, grey and red jacket looks odd in the bright yellow room her step mother’s is loved so dearly.

“She may not remember me, but we had an enlightens conversation last night.” The baritone voice that comes from the man echos inside Y/N’s mind, the voice soundly strangely familiar but not very known. “Sow thought about society and norms? Ring a bell?”

Y/N eyes widen, of course the one man she spoke to last night and boldly claimed her views would be the highest ranking noble in attendance. She really should have learned to watch her mouth by now. “Yes I do recall. Are you here to visit my sister? Shall I fetch her?”

“No Lady Y/N’s. I spoke to you step mother and she said it should be fine, but may we go for a walk in your garden?” The duke asks, the same piercing blue eyes standing out more now that y/n can fully she his face, a scar sitting just below his eye somehow makes his eyes stand out even more.

“Sure your grace, that sounds umm, wonderful.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Your family’s estate is lovely, lady Y/N. The gardens are magnificent.”

Y/N stops mid walk, surly they are far from little spies such as annoying siblings and ladies that work for her stepmother. “I’m sorry, but what are you doing here? How did you find me? I didn’t give you my name”

“Neuvilette knows his people quite well. I simply needed to see you again Lady Y/N’s.”

“I see. Look clearly you didn’t listen to my conversation. I’m not just any other lady in the-“

“I listened . That’s why I am here. You said most ladies throw themselves at the gentleman, which is true, except for one. You are an educated lady who wants to work within the court system, you are quite different. Tell me what do you know about the fortress?”

“Well, the fortress elves as the prison of Fontaine, allowing for its residents to be rehabilitated serving out their punishments in a more society format rather than traditional prisons, with you as duke and warden.”

“Correct. The fortress involves a special kind a governing, different from the dukes you have on the surface. It takes someone who is determined, educated and a little bold. Sound familiar?”

“Yes, your grace. I’m sorry,-“

“Y/N, I understand your reservations, but I am also doing this to help. That old lord is on his way as we speak, you really don’t have any other options.” Wriothesley reaches into his pocket pulling out a small box. He hands to Y/N. Y/n stands there holding the small box, the weight strangely heavy. Thought that may be from the weight of the subject matter. The last thing Y/N wanted to be was a trouphy wife, there to only make her husband seem better. Y/N looks at the road to her house seeing the older lord approaching, the reality of the situation hitting hard. Both choices weren’t ideal in her eyes, one seeming having a better chance for a decent life than the other. Still all she knew about rhe man who just gave her an engagement ring was his name and where he worked/lived. Surly not enough to agree to marrying. Though if she had to spread the rest of her life with someone, wriothesley did have a better appearing the the lord who looked as if he existed since the founding of Fontaine. Sighing she looks back to wriothesley, her eyes wide n panic or fear. Closing her eyes she takes a deep breath before turning her attention back to wriothesley.

“You even have a ring, your Grace.”

“I do.”

“I’m not going to be a trophy wife. I have my own expectations.”

“And we can discuss them at a later point Y/N. I promise. But you really should hurry, before she comes to grab you.” Y/N looks back at the estate, her step mother smiling walking to the garden with the lord.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sitting in the main calling room, your new fiancé talking amicably with your younger siblings about the wonders on being a duke, minus the whole prisoner aspect of it. You on the other hand like before watch from afar, leaning against the wall looking out the window as the old load leaves the estate, his attempts to propose to you were quickly shot down by your fiancé, to which the old man turned to your sister, which of course your step mother shot down immediately. You look at the ring wriothesley placed on your finger, it was simple which you loved, a ruby gem set neatly in the center matching wriothesley color pallet perfectly, and perhaps the fortress as a whole. There were still a lot of things left unanswered given that you maybe talked to your fiancé a total of 7 minutes, but you had an entire lifetime to figure out each other.

Luckily future private conversation should explain te expectations better than ones with family.

Your fiancé laughs at something your father says, look back to you hennold out his hand inviting you to join him in the conversation, you can’t help but smile, seems he already understood that you were to be equals in this partnership.

[stuckinabookorsomething]

Author note: got this idea while watching bridgerton and pulling for wrio in genshin. I believe in lore nobility titles are no longer common but I had a vision of a bridgerton season x wriothesley quick fic.

First fic, no proofing just me writing this while wine drunk watching caseoh, honestly just a jumble of thoughts may actually write at some point, but just need my ideas out there.

Enjoy

Events like these were never really Y/N’s thing. Itchy dresses, entertaining boring men and the same conversations over and over again. No matter who the “fine” gentleman was, the same topics would be discussed. And yet despite Y/N’s persistent protests, her step mother insisted this season she must find a suitable bachelor otherwise she would be casted as an old maid, too old to marry, there to only watch as her younger sisters find suitable husbands and start families of their own, or settle with the first man her mother can find, an older lord, old enough to be her grandfather, but hopefull thanks to Y/N’s wonderful banter (topics not suitable for a young lady such as herself) that older gentleman certainly would look elsewhere.

Lady Y/N was currently standing against the wall of the ballroom of a weathly noble’s home. Lady Y/N pleaded not to go to the event tonight, but her step mother insisted that Y/N’s sister would receive a marriage proposal by the following morning, so the family would go to the masquerade dance to support her sister. Just was lady Y/N wanted to do, not read or explore Fontaine, but socialize with a bunch of mystery men of nobility. Fortunately, as lady Y/N was hiding against the wall, everyone seemed to ignore her presence. Or so she thought.

“I see you also are against socialization” a voice suddenly appears next to lady Y/N. Bringing her back to reality. Lady Y/N turns to see a gentleman standing next to her, his features hidden behind her black mask, preventing her from knowing what stuffy noble man was attempting to talk to her.

“Yes.” Lady Y/N says, crossing her arms and staring off into the crowd.

“And I take that you don’t want to be here.”

“What gave that away?”

“You are the only woman here not out socializing with the ton. Most women would be throwing them selves to any man that looks her way, due to the secrecy of the masks, such ladies can act any way they want without judgement from society.” The man states looking at Y/N, her blue eyes pericinf through the mask.

“I suppose you are right. I mean, this whole thing is utterly pointless. Ladies throwing themselves at men hoping for a proposal, while the man is living the high life. All women want him making him feel like he was on top on the world. It’s a mock of everything I know.”

“Some bold claims there miss. Sounds like someone has a bit of a backdown and some self respect. Impressive.”

“My claims may be bold but they are true. I mean do you think you can form a decent bond with someone while only having a few small exchanges knowing that the lady you would be marrying was trying to sell herself to every single ‘gentleman’ at this event?”

“I suppose you are right. Still a lady shouldn’t boldly claim her views to a hidden stranger.”

“I quite frankly do not care, sir.”

“Fair enough.”

Lady Y/N looks at the crowd, her eyes land on her step mother, staring at her with a glare indicating she wants Y/N to socialize in the crowd like a proper lady, sighing she pushes herself off the wall.

“Wait.” Y/n looks back at the man. Still leaning against the wall. “Care to dance miss?”

“Excuse me? Did you not listen to anything I said over the past 5 minutes?”

“I did. But I also see that lady over there. Her glare is intense. So do you care to dance?” The stranger extends his hand, offering to lead her to the floor.

Lady Y/N looks back at her step mother. Sighing she takes his hand allowing him to lead her to the floor to waltz. “Fair warning, I’m not the most graceful with dancing.”

“Me either.” The stanger looks bad, at the older lady, her eyes still following the two of you. “Do you know that lady in the blue mask? She is watching you like a hawk watching its prey.”

“Yes. My stepmother. She has intentions on arranging me to marry some older lord so I should not be socializing with others like this. And my presence here is to be a support for my sister, who may receive a proposal tomorrow pending tonight runs according to plan. But oh well, too late now.”

“I see, so you are betrothed then?” The stranger asks, the sudden closeness of the waltz makes Y/N realize just how blue his eyes really are. “Such a pity.”

“Flattery gets you nowhere sir. And no not if I have anything to do with it, I refuse to marry that old man, I mean he is my grandfather’s age for the archons’s sake.”

As the songs concludes, the bell chimes, indicating the end of the event.

Lady Y/N bows. “Thank you for the dance. I wish you the best in finding a lovely lady. I bid the a good night.” Y/N quickly turns and leaves the floor, leaving the stranger alone on the floor.

“Goodnight fair miss.” As the crowd clears out, the stranger chuckles to himself, removing his mask he walks up to the Judge of Fontaine, his old friend. “Neuvilette? A word, what do you know about that miss in black dress. Surly you can recognize most of your people with and without such simple face coverings.”

“If I recall correctly that would be Lady Y/N L/N. She is the eldest child of Lord L/N and his Kate wife. She is an interesting character to say the least. From what I can recall she studied at the academia in Sumeru and recently returned back to her family’s estate. Bright girl, I heard she considered applying for a position within the courts, thought I am not sure if the noble society would see that as a smart idea.”

“I see. Now our conversation makes sense.”

“I surely hope she did not offend you, Your Grace. I’m quite familiar with her father and step mother, need to to say something?”

“Nah. I actually quite enjoyed my conversation with her. Made leaving the fortress worth while. Have a great night Neuvilette.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The following day lady Y/N was pracringing her swordsmanship in the estate’s back garden. She can hear the sounds of someone approaching her family”s estate. Must be the suitor for her sister. Though Y/N can not understand how her sister is happy, she hopes this marriage gives her sister everything she could ask for and more. Shaking her head she returns to her sword. Striking the target once more. Y/N continues for a while till she her the annoying voice of her step mother calling her name. Must be time to meet the new brother in law. Lady Y/N tosses her sword to the ground sighing she heads inside. However when she arrives to the main calling room, her sister is no where to be scene. Instead her step mothers is there, forcing a smile.

“You called?”

“Y/N. Have you make his grace, duke wriothesley before?” Her step mother gestures to the man sitting on the couch. The man stood out like a sore thumb in the brightly decorated room. His dark hair with white streak and dark black, grey and red jacket looks odd in the bright yellow room her step mother’s is loved so dearly.

“She may not remember me, but we had an enlightens conversation last night.” The baritone voice that comes from the man echos inside Y/N’s mind, the voice soundly strangely familiar but not very known. “Sow thought about society and norms? Ring a bell?”

Y/N eyes widen, of course the one man she spoke to last night and boldly claimed her views would be the highest ranking noble in attendance. She really should have learned to watch her mouth by now. “Yes I do recall. Are you here to visit my sister? Shall I fetch her?”

“No Lady Y/N’s. I spoke to you step mother and she said it should be fine, but may we go for a walk in your garden?” The duke asks, the same piercing blue eyes standing out more now that y/n can fully she his face, a scar sitting just below his eye somehow makes his eyes stand out even more.

“Sure your grace, that sounds umm, wonderful.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Your family’s estate is lovely, lady Y/N. The gardens are magnificent.”

Y/N stops mid walk, surly they are far from little spies such as annoying siblings and ladies that work for her stepmother. “I’m sorry, but what are you doing here? How did you find me? I didn’t give you my name”

“Neuvilette knows his people quite well. I simply needed to see you again Lady Y/N’s.”

“I see. Look clearly you didn’t listen to my conversation. I’m not just any other lady in the-“

“I listened . That’s why I am here. You said most ladies throw themselves at the gentleman, which is true, except for one. You are an educated lady who wants to work within the court system, you are quite different. Tell me what do you know about the fortress?”

“Well, the fortress elves as the prison of Fontaine, allowing for its residents to be rehabilitated serving out their punishments in a more society format rather than traditional prisons, with you as duke and warden.”

“Correct. The fortress involves a special kind a governing, different from the dukes you have on the surface. It takes someone who is determined, educated and a little bold. Sound familiar?”

“Yes, your grace. I’m sorry,-“

“Y/N, I understand your reservations, but I am also doing this to help. That old lord is on his way as we speak, you really don’t have any other options.” Wriothesley reaches into his pocket pulling out a small box. He hands to Y/N. Y/n stands there holding the small box, the weight strangely heavy. Thought that may be from the weight of the subject matter. The last thing Y/N wanted to be was a trouphy wife, there to only make her husband seem better. Y/N looks at the road to her house seeing the older lord approaching, the reality of the situation hitting hard. Both choices weren’t ideal in her eyes, one seeming having a better chance for a decent life than the other. Still all she knew about rhe man who just gave her an engagement ring was his name and where he worked/lived. Surly not enough to agree to marrying. Though if she had to spread the rest of her life with someone, wriothesley did have a better appearing the the lord who looked as if he existed since the founding of Fontaine. Sighing she looks back to wriothesley, her eyes wide n panic or fear. Closing her eyes she takes a deep breath before turning her attention back to wriothesley.

“You even have a ring, your Grace.”

“I do.”

“I’m not going to be a trophy wife. I have my own expectations.”

“And we can discuss them at a later point Y/N. I promise. But you really should hurry, before she comes to grab you.” Y/N looks back at the estate, her step mother smiling walking to the garden with the lord.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sitting in the main calling room, your new fiancé talking amicably with your younger siblings about the wonders on being a duke, minus the whole prisoner aspect of it. You on the other hand like before watch from afar, leaning against the wall looking out the window as the old load leaves the estate, his attempts to propose to you were quickly shot down by your fiancé, to which the old man turned to your sister, which of course your step mother shot down immediately. You look at the ring wriothesley placed on your finger, it was simple which you loved, a ruby gem set neatly in the center matching wriothesley color pallet perfectly, and perhaps the fortress as a whole. There were still a lot of things left unanswered given that you maybe talked to your fiancé a total of 7 minutes, but you had an entire lifetime to figure out each other.

Luckily future private conversation should explain te expectations better than ones with family.

Your fiancé laughs at something your father says, look back to you hennold out his hand inviting you to join him in the conversation, you can’t help but smile, seems he already understood that you were to be equals in this partnership.

Author note: got this idea while watching bridgerton and pulling for wrio in genshin. I believe in lore nobility titles are no longer common but I had a vision of a bridgerton season x wriothesley quick fic.

First fic, no proofing just me writing this while wine drunk watching caseoh, honestly just a jumble of thoughts may actually write at some point, but just need my ideas out there.

Enjoy

Events like these were never really Y/N’s thing. Itchy dresses, entertaining boring men and the same conversations over and over again. No matter who the “fine” gentleman was, the same topics would be discussed. And yet despite Y/N’s persistent protests, her step mother insisted this season she must find a suitable bachelor otherwise she would be casted as an old maid, too old to marry, there to only watch as her younger sisters find suitable husbands and start families of their own, or settle with the first man her mother can find, an older lord, old enough to be her grandfather, but hopefull thanks to Y/N’s wonderful banter (topics not suitable for a young lady such as herself) that older gentleman certainly would look elsewhere.

Lady Y/N was currently standing against the wall of the ballroom of a weathly noble’s home. Lady Y/N pleaded not to go to the event tonight, but her step mother insisted that Y/N’s sister would receive a marriage proposal by the following morning, so the family would go to the masquerade dance to support her sister. Just was lady Y/N wanted to do, not read or explore Fontaine, but socialize with a bunch of mystery men of nobility. Fortunately, as lady Y/N was hiding against the wall, everyone seemed to ignore her presence. Or so she thought.

“I see you also are against socialization” a voice suddenly appears next to lady Y/N. Bringing her back to reality. Lady Y/N turns to see a gentleman standing next to her, his features hidden behind her black mask, preventing her from knowing what stuffy noble man was attempting to talk to her.

“Yes.” Lady Y/N says, crossing her arms and staring off into the crowd.

“And I take that you don’t want to be here.”

“What gave that away?”

“You are the only woman here not out socializing with the ton. Most women would be throwing them selves to any man that looks her way, due to the secrecy of the masks, such ladies can act any way they want without judgement from society.” The man states looking at Y/N, her blue eyes pericinf through the mask.

“I suppose you are right. I mean, this whole thing is utterly pointless. Ladies throwing themselves at men hoping for a proposal, while the man is living the high life. All women want him making him feel like he was on top on the world. It’s a mock of everything I know.”

“Some bold claims there miss. Sounds like someone has a bit of a backdown and some self respect. Impressive.”

“My claims may be bold but they are true. I mean do you think you can form a decent bond with someone while only having a few small exchanges knowing that the lady you would be marrying was trying to sell herself to every single ‘gentleman’ at this event?”

“I suppose you are right. Still a lady shouldn’t boldly claim her views to a hidden stranger.”

“I quite frankly do not care, sir.”

“Fair enough.”

Lady Y/N looks at the crowd, her eyes land on her step mother, staring at her with a glare indicating she wants Y/N to socialize in the crowd like a proper lady, sighing she pushes herself off the wall.

“Wait.” Y/n looks back at the man. Still leaning against the wall. “Care to dance miss?”

“Excuse me? Did you not listen to anything I said over the past 5 minutes?”

“I did. But I also see that lady over there. Her glare is intense. So do you care to dance?” The stranger extends his hand, offering to lead her to the floor.

Lady Y/N looks back at her step mother. Sighing she takes his hand allowing him to lead her to the floor to waltz. “Fair warning, I’m not the most graceful with dancing.”

“Me either.” The stanger looks bad, at the older lady, her eyes still following the two of you. “Do you know that lady in the blue mask? She is watching you like a hawk watching its prey.”

“Yes. My stepmother. She has intentions on arranging me to marry some older lord so I should not be socializing with others like this. And my presence here is to be a support for my sister, who may receive a proposal tomorrow pending tonight runs according to plan. But oh well, too late now.”

“I see, so you are betrothed then?” The stranger asks, the sudden closeness of the waltz makes Y/N realize just how blue his eyes really are. “Such a pity.”

“Flattery gets you nowhere sir. And no not if I have anything to do with it, I refuse to marry that old man, I mean he is my grandfather’s age for the archons’s sake.”

As the songs concludes, the bell chimes, indicating the end of the event.

Lady Y/N bows. “Thank you for the dance. I wish you the best in finding a lovely lady. I bid the a good night.” Y/N quickly turns and leaves the floor, leaving the stranger alone on the floor.

“Goodnight fair miss.” As the crowd clears out, the stranger chuckles to himself, removing his mask he walks up to the Judge of Fontaine, his old friend. “Neuvilette? A word, what do you know about that miss in black dress. Surly you can recognize most of your people with and without such simple face coverings.”

“If I recall correctly that would be Lady Y/N L/N. She is the eldest child of Lord L/N and his Kate wife. She is an interesting character to say the least. From what I can recall she studied at the academia in Sumeru and recently returned back to her family’s estate. Bright girl, I heard she considered applying for a position within the courts, thought I am not sure if the noble society would see that as a smart idea.”

“I see. Now our conversation makes sense.”

“I surely hope she did not offend you, Your Grace. I’m quite familiar with her father and step mother, need to to say something?”

“Nah. I actually quite enjoyed my conversation with her. Made leaving the fortress worth while. Have a great night Neuvilette.”

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The following day lady Y/N was pracringing her swordsmanship in the estate’s back garden. She can hear the sounds of someone approaching her family”s estate. Must be the suitor for her sister. Though Y/N can not understand how her sister is happy, she hopes this marriage gives her sister everything she could ask for and more. Shaking her head she returns to her sword. Striking the target once more. Y/N continues for a while till she her the annoying voice of her step mother calling her name. Must be time to meet the new brother in law. Lady Y/N tosses her sword to the ground sighing she heads inside. However when she arrives to the main calling room, her sister is no where to be scene. Instead her step mothers is there, forcing a smile.

“You called?”

“Y/N. Have you make his grace, duke wriothesley before?” Her step mother gestures to the man sitting on the couch. The man stood out like a sore thumb in the brightly decorated room. His dark hair with white streak and dark black, grey and red jacket looks odd in the bright yellow room her step mother’s is loved so dearly.

“She may not remember me, but we had an enlightens conversation last night.” The baritone voice that comes from the man echos inside Y/N’s mind, the voice soundly strangely familiar but not very known. “Sow thought about society and norms? Ring a bell?”

Y/N eyes widen, of course the one man she spoke to last night and boldly claimed her views would be the highest ranking noble in attendance. She really should have learned to watch her mouth by now. “Yes I do recall. Are you here to visit my sister? Shall I fetch her?”

“No Lady Y/N’s. I spoke to you step mother and she said it should be fine, but may we go for a walk in your garden?” The duke asks, the same piercing blue eyes standing out more now that y/n can fully she his face, a scar sitting just below his eye somehow makes his eyes stand out even more.

“Sure your grace, that sounds umm, wonderful.”

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“Your family’s estate is lovely, lady Y/N. The gardens are magnificent.”

Y/N stops mid walk, surly they are far from little spies such as annoying siblings and ladies that work for her stepmother. “I’m sorry, but what are you doing here? How did you find me? I didn’t give you my name”

“Neuvilette knows his people quite well. I simply needed to see you again Lady Y/N’s.”

“I see. Look clearly you didn’t listen to my conversation. I’m not just any other lady in the-“

“I listened . That’s why I am here. You said most ladies throw themselves at the gentleman, which is true, except for one. You are an educated lady who wants to work within the court system, you are quite different. Tell me what do you know about the fortress?”

“Well, the fortress elves as the prison of Fontaine, allowing for its residents to be rehabilitated serving out their punishments in a more society format rather than traditional prisons, with you as duke and warden.”

“Correct. The fortress involves a special kind a governing, different from the dukes you have on the surface. It takes someone who is determined, educated and a little bold. Sound familiar?”

“Yes, your grace. I’m sorry,-“

“Y/N, I understand your reservations, but I am also doing this to help. That old lord is on his way as we speak, you really don’t have any other options.” Wriothesley reaches into his pocket pulling out a small box. He hands to Y/N. Y/n stands there holding the small box, the weight strangely heavy. Thought that may be from the weight of the subject matter. The last thing Y/N wanted to be was a trouphy wife, there to only make her husband seem better. Y/N looks at the road to her house seeing the older lord approaching, the reality of the situation hitting hard. Both choices weren’t ideal in her eyes, one seeming having a better chance for a decent life than the other. Still all she knew about rhe man who just gave her an engagement ring was his name and where he worked/lived. Surly not enough to agree to marrying. Though if she had to spread the rest of her life with someone, wriothesley did have a better appearing the the lord who looked as if he existed since the founding of Fontaine. Sighing she looks back to wriothesley, her eyes wide n panic or fear. Closing her eyes she takes a deep breath before turning her attention back to wriothesley.

“You even have a ring, your Grace.”

“I do.”

“I’m not going to be a trophy wife. I have my own expectations.”

“And we can discuss them at a later point Y/N. I promise. But you really should hurry, before she comes to grab you.” Y/N looks back at the estate, her step mother smiling walking to the garden with the lord.”

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Sitting in the main calling room, your new fiancé talking amicably with your younger siblings about the wonders on being a duke, minus the whole prisoner aspect of it. You on the other hand like before watch from afar, leaning against the wall looking out the window as the old load leaves the estate, his attempts to propose to you were quickly shot down by your fiancé, to which the old man turned to your sister, which of course your step mother shot down immediately. You look at the ring wriothesley placed on your finger, it was simple which you loved, a ruby gem set neatly in the center matching wriothesley color pallet perfectly, and perhaps the fortress as a whole. There were still a lot of things left unanswered given that you maybe talked to your fiancé a total of 7 minutes, but you had an entire lifetime to figure out each other.

Luckily future private conversation should explain te expectations better than ones with family.

Your fiancé laughs at something your father says, look back to you hennold out his hand inviting you to join him in the conversation, you can’t help but smile, seems he already understood that you were to be equals in this partnership.

[stuckinabookorsomething]

Welcome to my blog:

I have ideas but I’m not great into putting them into words but hey I’ll try.