#he wont the key

[mercysstray]

baby bawb

[lovesickeros]

☆ even the gods bleed [ pt 3 ]

{☆} characters neuvillette, wriothesley, furina {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, multi-chapter, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings none {☆} word count 1.9k {☆} previous [ 1 ] [ 2 ]

Wriothesley was not a man of superstition. He did not kneel at the altars until his knees bled, he did not pray until his voice gave out– he did not, contrary to popular belief, suffer divine punishment for his apparent lack of respect.

After all, what Divine would look so deep beneath the waves just for a glimpse of the sinners that inhabit it?

Not them, evidently.

He hadn't slept in the past four days, though. There was a heavy air of something where ever he walked– it followed him like a thick fog, lingering and choking him until it dragged him to his knees like a chain. His thoughts inevitably linger on the striking, extravagant letter so conveniently adorning his desk at the fortress– the broken wax seal, the letter tucked into his pocket.

He'd recognize the seal of the Iudex any day. Wasn't often he spoke to him– but the shaky, distorted words hastily etched into the paper made him pause. Neuvillette always had a steady hand– elegant, flowing script that him of flowing water.

It had kept him up for days.

The implications were..haunting. He'd poured over the letter for hours, illuminated only by faint light of his desk lamp. Yet no matter how many times he tries to see what must be hidden beneath the ink, the paper itself even, he finds nothing but the shaky script of a request that sends a bolt of pure frost through his veins.

He noticed, of course, the odd goings on of Fontaine. He'd heard vague whispers of the Divine's hunt for the imposter– he'd heard, too, of the ceaseless rain pelting Fontaine until even he wondered if the nation would finally sink beneath the waves.

It didn't, though. And that only made it all the more odd. Days of constant rain, just for it to stop suddenly..he tugged his coat tighter around him, throwing up the hood of the cloak clasped even tighter over it with a grunt as he leaned around the corner of the alleyway.

He didn't believe in superstition, but this was too hard to ignore as a simple weather anomaly.

Maybe that was why he ignored his gut– he knew that this was probably a trap, at the very least it was suspicious. But damn it, he couldn't ignore the instinct to follow the only lead he had.

His boots clicked against the rain stricken streets as he stalked through the shadows, mindful of the clinking of machine patrols just a few streets away. Yet every step felt heavier then the last as he took a long, good look at the Palais Mermonia. He almost considered bringing out his gauntlets, but he thought better of it– if it came down to it, he needed information. And he would need whoever was waiting for him alive for that– the dead don't speak and all that.

The letter's directions led him in a..rather roundabout entrance to a secluded room, evidently, as he lifted his hand and quietly knocked against the door. Two rapid knocks, pause, another knock, pause, four knocks. It doesn't take long until he hears the latch of the door unlock.

The leather of his gloves creaks as he clenches his fists, adjusting his stance. He's ready for a fight, if he must, but as the door quietly slides open he feel the weight on his shoulders relax slightly– the familiar, sharp features of Neuvillette meets him. He almost reflexively smiles at the way his pupils turn into thin slits, a momentary surprise that he quickly hides well behind a cough and the creak of the door as he pulls it open fully.

"Wriothesley. I see my letter has found you well. Please, come in." Polite as ever, Neuvillette steps aside to let him in, but he can see the exhaustion lining his features– the bags under his eyes aren't as well hidden as he thinks, at least to him. "Bit odd to be inviting me all the way out here in the middle of the night, don't you think?"

His tone is smooth as he steps into the room, brushing down his hood and glancing at Neuvillette over his shoulder, watching as he shuts and locks the door behind him.

"I apologize for the..less then ideal circumstances, but I'm certain you will understand when you see for yourself." He wants to retort, but the Iudex beats him to it, vaguely motioning to the room behind him. An invitation– but he wonders if it's worth taking.

His gut says no, but he's feeling a little risky today, he supposes.

He turns back slowly, barely able to make out the two figures he'd missed on the first glance on the other side of the room– though it's hard to mistake the flourish of the Hydro Archon, even in the dark. It's the other figure that makes the breath hitch in his throat, though.

Or maybe, more accurately, it freezes. So does his blood, his whole body even, locked in stasis for a long, tense moment– he can't see them clearly, but his instincts are going haywire. He can feel his vision almost rattle where it rests against his left shoulder, cold leaking through the layers of clothes and into his skin until he has to fight to suppress a shiver.

He'd always fancied himself the hunter– he was the one who dealt with unsavory folks, in the end. But he felt like a rabbit pinned beneath the crosshairs of a gun this time. He could almost feel the teeth of the bear trap snapping shut around him, crushing bone and flesh beneath cold metal.

For a long moment he thinks he feels fear.

And with a sharp click and a burst of light, it's gone and he takes a raspy, choked breath as he blinks away the blurriness in his vision, taking in the room illuminated by the lamp.

He's not sure what he sees is better, though.

Because his body knows that their Divinity is as real as the blood running through his veins.

So why do they remind him so much of himself? Why does he see the look of the boy who died in a pool of blood not his own in them?

It is a sick, cruel kind of familiar.

Wriothesley didn't believe in superstition– but that was born of the unknown. He knew, now. He could reach out and touch the truth with his own two hands.

The throne of the world was a lie.

The thing sitting on it bled red. And if it bled, it could die.

He clenched his fists tighter– and released, letting his shoulders slump with a huff and a half hearted chuckle. "I wasn't expecting you to be in possession of a wanted criminal when you sent me that letter." He could see the gears whirring in their heads, the subtle dampness in the air reminding him just how delicate a situation it truly was.

He wasn't particularly inclined to getting blasted by a jet of water today.

"Relax, I'm not going to spill to anyone else. Seriously– don't get my jacket wet. It's expensive and a nightmare to dry." His lips quirk into a half smile, but it twists into something almost genuine at the laugh covered up by a cough he hears from the Divine. Bingo.

"It's fine, Neuvillette. Let him go." Their voice is like honey dripping from their lips, and he has to close his jaw with his hand before they can see the way it dropped in his surprise. "Of course, most Divine. My apologies." He relaxes at the sharp click of his heels as he joins them on the bed, his posture far more relaxed then he's ever seen. The Hydro Archon, much to his confusion and amusement, is far too invested in playing with their hair to pay much attention to him now that things have calmed, evidently.

Huh.

They seemed pretty cozy about it, he noted. He guesses they three of them had some time to get acquainted.

"So..who's going to explain what the hell is going on?" He probed, crossing his arms over his chest and watching the three carefully– they all looked tired, but even through the exhaustion neither seemed inclined to stray too far from the Divine. "And what exactly your plan is? You can't keep hiding them here forever. Someone will sniff them out sooner or later."

"We are aware," Neuvillette interjects, lips pursed into a thin line and his thin brows furrowed. "But as I'm sure you've noticed, the hunt for the..forgive me, most Divine, but the hunt for the alleged imposter is still at it's peak."

He grumbles in acknowledgment, hanging up his cloak by the door and sliding out of his heavy coat, resting it over the back of a nearby chair. "Hm. Suppose that's why the patrols are so common now a days."

"I'm afraid so. As you can imagine, we cannot simply ask them to..stop the search. It would draw unwanted attention and suspicion. The Divine would be found immediately if we tried to bring them out of the city at the moment." Neuvillette added, looking proper and elegant, despite the circumstances– even in the face of the Divine and the Archon turning on him and tugging his hair into intricate braids. "So I hope you understand that it was a great risk to send you that letter."

He rubs his chin, huffing in amusement– a solid plan, maybe, but his power didn't extend too far out of the Fortress. He had his connections, sure, but what use were they when he had to get the, uh, "imposter" out of Fontaine? Smuggling them out wouldn't be easy, and then there's the point of where to take them they'd have to contend with.

"Yeah, yeah– I get it. But it's not like I can just smuggle them out or keep them in the fortress. Even if we got them out of the city, we'd have to find somewhere to bunker down, and if someone spots any of us lingering there.." Archons, what a mess he'd gotten himself into. He was really looking forward to the next time he could kick his feet up with a cup of tea.

"I understand. I have already made plans, in fact." Neuvillette hesitates, and he can feel the temperature drops a few degrees. "I..cannot share them in full at the moment, but it is not for a lack of trust." Neuvillette reasoned, hands folded neatly in his lap– not that it hid the way they shook slightly. He wanted to ask, but he thought better of it.

"Eh, I don't hold it against you. The walls have ears, even up here." He deflected, running a hand through his hair. He really hoped Sigewinne wouldn't ask too much when he gets back. "I trust your judgment." He hesitates for a long moment, pulling out a simple, neatly folded letter of his own.

"Memorize the code words, then burn it. I'll be waiting for your next letter." He murmurs, plucking his coat and cloak and tugging them back on one after another, shuffling back over to the latched door. He hesitates again, his hand lingering on the door.

"I just hope your plan is worth the risk, Neuvillette."

He leaves before he can respond, the harsh click of the door ringing in his ears even as he steps back into the shadows of the night.

[ch1zzie]

The original in the bottom

Plus the picture I mainly drew but decided to draw the rest for funny

[saint-end]

they’re so annoying (i love them)

[skeletalheartattack]

i am taping your leg to the ceiling fan and turning it to max power :)

you're gonna what now? huh? wait. oh shit-

WAAAAHHHHHH!!!

[theheightofdishonor]

"see you at the top" and "until the top of the world, right?" and it's all about a faith so true it doesn't even need to be questioned

[llamagoddessofficial]

Can we get some DA snas cuddle headcanons, like mc is having a rough day and requests cuddles?

Red: Oh, of course!! Anything for his favourite assistant. He’s already a flirt, so depending on whether or not there are kids around, he might make some jokes about having her 'nice and close' that verge on not being appropriate (and she'll definitely feel a squeeze somewhere out of view). He's surprisingly warm, and hugs are generally a good way to settle down any arguments taking place between the personalities because all of them enjoy just settling and feeling wanted for a minute.

He likes hugs most when it's at the end of a long day with the kids. It's a perfect moment to just be himself.

Sans: Close physical contact is one of the few ways to temporarily stop him from taking her shit. It dazzles him for a second and, as mentioned before, cools everyone in the body at the same time. Though Mc and Sans have got a bit of a vicious circle going on- she doesn't want to hug him because of his sticky fingers, and he's got sticky fingers because holding her car keys hostage is a great way to blackmail her back into his arms again later. Nothing guarantees a cuddle like dangling her wallet over her head, especially when she barks "What do you want!?" and he just sweetly goes "hug? 🥺" with a huge shitface grin.

Although he loves her little furious face when he aggravates her because it reminds him of an angry kitten, if she's in a bad mood, he avoids stealing during hugs. He only takes her things as a joke, or to make her feel better when he gives them back without her even needing to ask.

Skull: You do realise if you offer Skull hugs, you're never leaving, right? He's got four arms. Two can scoop her up tight and the other two can do everything else. He might even use three to hold her, make sure she's extra supported. He's starved for attention and he'll leech every moment of contact he can, it'll be difficult to find a reason he considers good enough to voluntarily let go.

Rarely, very rarely, he sneaks out while one of the other two are cuddling. It has to involve them not concentrating on cuddling, which would only happen when it's a longer, more casual hug. She's resting, minding her business, when two other arms slowly wind around her... she hears a little delighted mechanical trill from the chest she's leaning against- her only warning that that's where she'll be stuck for the next few hours.

[waterfallofspace]

For the first time in a while, I had myself a snz dream~

Sadly wasn't completely focused on the snz, but it was starring D/azai (feat. C/huuya as a supporting role) and man... I'm gonna be replaying it for days in my mind... >//<

All the surrounding details aren't important but... let's just say D/azai chose to be tied to a suspect, and have his loyal assistant C/huuya (who did not care for that title) place the cat in his lap, D/azai's eyes watering within seconds.

The results were... itchy <3 and through some wonderful ~dream logic~, each time D/azai let another powerful, desperate, itchy sneeze out, the chains he'd tied himself to the suspect with would pull tight, and the suspect would find himself crashing into D/azai, powers being stripped each time (something that, in this dream world, was highly unpleasant)

A lot of it was fairly dream logic-oriented, so the plot itself doesn't make a ton of sense, but the image of a hitching, smirking, sneezy D/azai, with an eye-rolling, cursing, but slightly concerned C/huuya... yeah that's gonna be on repeat for awhile~

[mysicklove]

ppl literally have to think for .5 seconds about aging characters up. i mean u don’t have to agree but like grrrrrrrrrr. ppl r so annoying

[gaiaxygang]

when sailom realises there's still something salvage in kanghan, that he still has a heart. from the moment kanghan saves him and concedes (accepting his tutoring offer) you can see something in sailom start to change from the look in his eyes. this show makes me want to walk into the ocean

[seariii]

I have no clue why I hadn't read Muu's bday timeline of this year and I'm dead

I thought it was still a maybe that Amane was recruiting Fuuta (I have no idea what is the correct word, english isn't my first language, sorry)

I DIDNT THINK IT WAS ACTUALLY (already) HAPPENING

[themoonking]

watching that video m*tp*t made on “are theories killing video games” (yes, idiot) and he really goes “developers not knowing where the story is going and instead writing it as they go along in response to fan reaction is not a bad thing” BRO. YES IT IS.

[odysseys-blood]

no more skinny little hairless cat boys we're making em fat and hairy now

[haikyuism]

would tsukishima listen to taylor swift? absolutely not

then why do all the tsukishima playlists have her on them? yamaguchi put the songs on there.

[todayisafridaynight]

brother was talking to me about how if you almost die from an extreme-temperature-related incident then your body is just forever fucked towards that temperature and that's why i think kiryu and saejima are weak to ice. i dont know why aoki isn't like that too but ignore that statistic everything else tracks.

[horneboy]

thoughts while watching the witchfinder ep 1 coz i am LONG DUE A WATCH (compiled for the lovely @maladaptvs )

i cannot get over blonde key im sorry he's scary i don't like it. and the BEARD go away im scared

"thank you, fuck off"

why do they all hate him poor key

"decorum decorum !!!"

his white robes r kinda...

give a man a job jesus christ

KIELL SMITH-BYNOE JUMPSCARE HELLOO

why do bristol (?) accents sound a bit like irish accents it's uncanny really lol

gideon banester goofy ass name sorry

egg

what is it with key getting cast as loser ass men... please god cast him as anything but this for once im BEGGING YOUIHYIYUIU

"civil question love, did you fuck the devil?"

"i would bloody love three dead kids!!!!!!!!!!!"

who is this cunt and whys he's threatening this poor woman's daughter like...

"please do..... please do........... please do..................."

"meaty gooch!?" what the fuck is this show

he's a bit shit as his job isn't he#

john stern's a bit sleepy

oh he's a bit more than sleepy !

freed at what cost