Since your requests are open, might I suggest vamp lord Venti? Or perhaps something with the vamp lords in general?
i'm glad there's one other person besides me who's interested in the archons as vampire!lords lolol i wasn't sure what to title this but please, accept this humble drabble of them being the siblings ever. note : darling's relationship with nahida is strictly platonic!
This is an extension of this and this concept, which are branched from my vampire!alhaitham au :> written with a yandere setting in mind but nothing of that sort is really going on here, unless you squint.
wc : 1.2k
“Seriously, what was that blockhead thinking when making them share a room with a half-blood vampire of everything?”
“If you can even call this closet a room, Barbatos. There's not even space for us to take an extra step!”
If the word ‘baffled’ would be a person, that'd be you at this instance. You stare questioningly at the figures that now occupy your room, the buzzes of their comments on the poor accommodations that they had provided flies over your head as easily as they leave the lords' lips. A moment’s interlude and five servants enter next, meticulously weaving through the existent personnel.
“Well, I can't say I wasn't expecting this. Half-bloods have weaker impulse control, especially when they have not been ‘fed’ properly. There's no way Morax couldn't have known this. So, he must've had other intentions.”
The lord praised for her unmatched wisdom chimed, inspecting the residual stains of blood on the otherwise vacant walls with curious green eyes. At the side, the lord clad in ocean blue conducts the servants to gather your belongings with haste and the master of songs remained beside your person in his nonchalant haze.
“Uhm, M'lord, am I getting kicked out…?”
Barbatos's gleaming teal eyes meet your tentative gaze. With a chuckle, he places his beret on your head. Instead of words he answers you with a hearty squeeze on your cheeks and you yelp.
“My birdie, how could that thought even cross your head?” even a blind person could feel the pout on the lord's lips. You make a few unsuccessful attempts at riposte and at last succumb to the assault on your cheeks — the sight of which has Barbatos's grin stretched till his fangs peak.
“Cut it out, Barbatos! They've yet to recover from their wounds. You can save your ‘affection’ for a later day.” the lord celebrated for her stage prowess huffs, arms crossed and indignant at the handsy behavior of her fellow Vampire Lord.
The accused vampire frees your cheeks from his clutches. Though you're not gifted with reprieve as his right arm coils around your shoulders next. “You speak as though I'm the most ignorant being to exist! Dear [Name], why don't you tell good Focalors here how much you enjoy being the recipient of my affection?”
You sputter at the heat of the two lords’ gazes. Luck shines upon you and your savior interferes with a cough.
“Allow me to apologize on behalf of everyone, [Name]. Had I been more persistent in ensuring that you wouldn't have to be roommates with that half-blood, this accident wouldn't have happened. I'm truly sorry.”
Nahida's heartfelt condolences paint the atmosphere in a subtle somber hue. Pupils of green flicker to and fro the fresh bandages wrapped around your neck and wrists. You feel Barbatos's fingers tighten around you ever so slightly, it is not until Focalors' chiding words echo that the silence cracks.
“Buer, Buer, Buer. For how long will you continue to take responsibility for others' carelessness?”
“Well, at least she has the courtesy to apologize,” Barbatos idly twirls a strand of your hair, “Unlike a certain brutish blundering buffoon.”
It's quite apparent to you who he addresses so vehemently, though, you're not certain what the cause is behind their blood feud. It's not like you expected to be treated like royalty in a palace full of lethal predators, no one has heard a vampire ever treating a human kindly. You'd even say you were no greater than a slave to everyone in this place, so, the lords' current care confused you greatly.
“Actually, Lord Morax invited me for breakfast this morning. He told me that even he wasn't expecting my ‘roommate’ to betray his command and attack me.”
All eyes snap towards you as those words settle from your lips, you cannot hold back your concern at how quickly they turned their heads.
“He did?” Focalors asks incredulously, the lock of hair Barbatos was twirling falls from his grasp dramatically.
“Yes…he even told me that Lord Shogun had ‘taken care of’ my roommate, whatever that means.” you mutter with uncertainty, gaze flickering between their wide-eyed stares.
Barbatos is the first to recover from that collective befuddlement, “Well, looks like they did something good for once.” he lets go of your shoulder and you almost miss the flash of irritation in his normally tranquil teal eyes. You note how unsettling he sounds with the absence of playfulness. The weight of the lord's beret reminds you of the barrenness of your room and your initial confusion of why they barged in, in the first place.
“Am I really going to be kicked out of the palace?”
Your question comes out more melancholic than intended but, it does its job in getting the vampires' attention. Barbatos begins with a spring in his speech, completely disregarding his earlier odd countenance.
“About that, my birdie, because you're such a delicious mea—ow! I mean, such a precious human, we've decided that from today onwards, your new roommates will be…us!”
Furina's elbow retreats as Barbatos rubs the side of his abdomen with a spiteful look. She takes his beret off of your head and replaces it with her own hat, hurling the former object towards the green-clad lord's face.
“Now, I know what you're thinking, petit agneau. Each of us will be sharing our quarters with you every month. Meaning, one month you'll be my roommate, the next Buers, then Barbatos's and it'll rotate like this. Isn't that the most excellent idea?”
Judging by Furina's boisterous laughter and the sparkles that float around her, you surmise it must've been her proposal. All of this is happening too quickly and too out-of-nowhere. You're not naive enough to believe that their sudden initiatives are born from unadulterated kindness. In this hidden corner of the world where the self-interest of a stronger life form dominates the hierarchy, it's foolish to rule-out any possibilities of hidden agendas. But precisely due to that reason, clinging to the few opportunities of benevolence are inconsequential for survival — that, in itself, is another form of self-preservation.
“So, I'll be staying with you this month, Lord Focalors?” you ask.
“Well… who'll be the first in the rotation actually hasn't been decided yet.”
“I’ll be the first one.” Nahida, who'd been silent thus far proclaimed ; you tilt your head down to find her dainty fingers holding onto your hand.
Focalors and Barbatos remain frozen with gaping mouths for a few seconds, likely because they were about to say the same thing.
“If I may jog your memory, you both have been tasked with arranging this year's annual spring gala. No doubt you'll both be busy with your own work to pay attention to [Name]. So, it's only logical that she stays with me, isn't it?”
True to her title, Nahida leaves no room for further arguments with her reasoning. A ‘you have a point’ full of disappointment leaves the other two in unison. You catch Nahida's wink as you peer down at her and it makes you wonder. You can never guess what she's thinking but, she's been the only one who's shown you genuine care since you signed your contract with the Vampire Lords. There's a certain... peace about her presence that you can reluctantly believe in, compared to the flightiness of the others, at least.
You spare one last look at the place you used to call your room, the splatters of your own blood remind you again of the terrors of this palace. With a deep breath, you choose to swallow your fear and follow their lead, for now, at least.
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Title: Opening Night.
Pairing: Yandere!Lyney x Reader (Genshin Impact).
Word Count: 1.2k.
TW: Sex Doll AU, Non-Con, AFAB!Reader, Heavy Dissociation, Obsessive Behavior, Slight Manipulation, and Implied Stalking.
Distantly, you could remember how excited you’d been to be invited to the showing.
You’d opened the invitation at your desk, surrounded by a small group of your more friendly coworkers who’d go on to clap and cheer and promise a round of after-hour drinks after you finished reading out the snippet of text scrolled across the cream-colored cardstock. You weren’t special - a small legion of journalists would be invited to write puff-pieces on all the new models and decide which androids were going to be in fashion next season - but you’d loved Teyvat as long as you could remember, spent more of your free time than you cared to admit doing research on robots you’d never be able to afford, not on a salary like yours. It wasn’t a world-changing, earth-shaking accomplishment, but it made you happy. It was something you wanted, and it was something you’d finally gotten your hands on after years of waiting.
You couldn’t remember when your excitement had started to wane. You were still wide-eyed and slack-jawed when you stepped into the venue, an old opera house restored and decorated to better suit the Fontaine Collection’s high-luxury theming. You hadn’t been able to bite back your smile as you kissed the back of a refitted Focalors’ hand (or, Lady Furina’s hand, as she told you to call her in a tone you could only compare to that of a newly-crowned monarch still drinking in her subjects’ attention), and watched Clorinde’s fencing demonstration with the sort of rapt attention most people would save for famous idols and athletes. Even after you lost your photographer in the crowd, your heart skipped a beat as Neuvillette (the brooding, stoic type of this line, you were sure to note when you next found a minute to yourself) offered you a flute of champagne that you readily accepted, and when a roaming Lyney-droid pulled you to the side and offered to show you magic trick with an irresistible glint in his eye, you didn’t think twice before looping your arm through his and letting him guide you to an all-but abandoned backstage area. You thought you might get something exclusive, something to separate you from the crowd of influencers and tabloids who weren’t afraid to promise features that the approachable beta models only half-confirmed. You thought you’d be safe with a premium-grade android hanging off your arm.
Maybe your excitement didn’t wane at all. It’d been there one moment, then gone the next, replaced with a dark coil of dread and some kind of dizzying, vision-blurring nausea. The sharp corner of the vanity bit harshly into the backs of your thighs, the mirror pressed into your back slowly sapping the warmth from your skin and replacing it with something else, a numbing chill you couldn’t seem to shake. Your clothes had been torn to shreds, left to scatter across the dressing room floor, but Lyney was still fully dressed, fully composed; the palest blush painted across his cheeks and his lips ever so slightly parted but all other signs of arousal, of embarrassment absent. You made a mental note to work that into your article. The new models seem to have a shared sense of unwavering confidence– a stark contrast from their more reserved predecessors from Mondstadt and Sumeru. Maybe you’d be able to get a quote from their handlers, if you ever made it back to the show floor.
You’d have to give Lyney his own section, titled something your boss would have to talk to HR about: Teyvat's New Magician is Good With More Than His Cards. You could only feel half of what he was doing to you, shock dulling your already limited senses, but the fingers drawing loose patterns in your clit was near-overwhelming, the feeling of his synthetic cock splitting you open inescapable, unrelenting. He didn’t need to breathe, to worry about things like soreness or bruising or cramps, to do anything but thrust into you at a pace so erratic, so unyielding that it left little room for you to do anything but lie there and take it. His hips were pushed flat against yours, his tip grinding against something soft and unprotected inside of you and drawing out a ragged gasp, a cracked moan. Out of reflex, your hands shot to his shoulders, nails digging into whatever you could reach, and he let out an airy laugh, leaning closer and encouraging you to hold him tighter, to see if you could tear through the faux-skin Teyvat so often advertised as ‘invincible’. That would make headlines, even if it wasn’t likely to cast you in the best light.
His free hand drifted from your hip to your side to your cheek, his knuckles brushing underneath your chin before he cupped your cheek and pulled you into a deep, lingering kiss. His saliva was flavored, though you couldn’t say what it was supposed to taste like. Cotten candy, maybe – so cloying and sugary, all specifics were lost to the sweetness. It suited him. If you’d been able to use your hands, you would’ve applauded his developers for their attention to detail.
When he pulled back, he was smiling. There was another kiss to the corner of your mouth, then another to the corner of your jaw. Finally, he settled against your throat – his grin so broad, you could feel his perfect teeth resting against your jugular as he spoke. “They told me I’d be able to find a master tonight. The others aren’t ready yet, but I am. They worked the hardest on me.” He was bragging, transparently and unabashedly. In any other situation, you might’ve thought he was trying to impress you. “I knew it had to be you the moment our eyes met. So cute, so easily impressed – I knew you just had to be mine.”
He seemed to perk up, to catch on something. He pressed the pad of his thumb into your clit, and your entire body jolted. “No, no, that’s not right,” he went on, shaking his head. “I’m supposed to be yours.I keep getting that mixed up.”
Faulty programming? It’d be a scandal if it got out, and moreover, it’d be a massive payout if Teyvat decided they preferred to handle things behind closed doors. You bet they’d done it before. Maybe you’d look into that, later on.
Your back arched violently, another pitchy whine bubbling up from some forgotten cavity of your chest. As if in response, he inhaled sharply, buckling against you in the throes of simulated pleasure. His pace sped up, his teeth latching onto the curve of your neck, but any pain it might’ve caused was lost on you, blurred and distorted by the thick rope of tension pulling taut and snapping in the pit of your stomach. Your climax washed over you in slow, throbbing waves, and Lyney was kind enough to pretend he was lost in the same agonizing bliss, to act like that was the reason he was bucking into you so violently.
To act like he had an excuse to do this to you.
He fucked you through your orgasm, eventually stilling inside of you. With his body slotted against yours, his teeth still buried in your skin, he lingered there, only drawing back once your breathing had started to slow and deepen, once you’d stopped shaking underneath him. Even then, he didn’t let you go, didn’t leave you to cry your eyes out in an empty dressing room. Rather, he pressed a quick, fleeting kiss into your forehead before beaming at you - the light in his eyes so bright, you could almost forget it wasn’t real. “I’ll introduce you to my sister. I’m sure she’ll like you, too.”
Right, his sister, Lynette. You hadn’t seen her yet.
She and her twin brother weren’t supposed to be revealed until the show at the end of the night. You doubted anyone had even thought to power them on, yet.
“She’ll be as happy as I am to know we’ll be leaving with such a lovely master.”
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A Wolf and A Snake (Wriothesley x Reader)
Chapter 2: Will the Chaperone Approve?
A/N: WHO'S READY FOR C2?! I hope you guys enjoy this :D
Taglist: @yue-caelum, @reyy-chanx, @mis-disaster
Synopsis: Being a noble meant that marriage was a chess game, not an affair of love. Unfortunately for the pristine Balthazar family of Fontaine, Y/N has long been enamored with love and sought it out before their priorities. After her grey, boring time of courtesy, she meets Duke Wriothesley, who makes her yearn for the first time in her life, and it's the same for him. Threatened by the idea of losing this first, it seems they'll stop at very little to be together...
Warnings: Controlling/abusive parents, discrimination (towards Wrio), sexism, reader has a breakdown, yandere themes.
Your parents loved the idea of you taking a vacation not to rest, but because 'absence makes the heart grow fonder'. They were clearly referring to the nobles, who would only pine more if you were unavailable for a while.
Last night, you all returned from Belleau, warmly welcomed by the main manor's staff. Your favorite among them was your governess, Agatha; Though she generally listened to your parents' instructions, she occasionally broke some rules for you. That night, she waited until everyone else was asleep to bring you some cake, in exchange for you telling her about the nobles.
"And what about Duke Arya? I know you looooove braggarts!
"No way! All he does is talk about himself like he's Focalors!".
And you'd both laugh. You loved how Agatha has evolved to be a mother figure to you. It was unfortunate when she had to go and let you sleep, but oh well.
You knew this time would come; It was the morning, and you saw a servant bring tea to the room where your parents read the declarations of courting that were received over the vacation.
"Pierre, please call my daughter here. We must discuss something of the utmost importance.".
The servant would nod, your status as a young maiden really hammering home the point. You walked in, a little unnerved by the warm smile your parents sported, but better that than scowling.
Your mother was the first to talk: "Ah, good morning Y/N. You look as beautiful as you ever did.".
Your father, always thinking ahead, had to add on: "Indeed, so beautiful to make half the Court's dukes turn their heads!".
He let out a loud, victorious laugh. Maybe it would take you a while to get used to this pride for you. You sat down, looking over the small stack of papers. It was truly fascinating, in a weird sense: All these crests and emblems, clearly signaling many different gentlemen... And they all shared the same recipient sitting right in front of them.
"So as per custom, your mother and I have looked over most of them. We've already scrapped the ones from barons, since you can clearly marry up with your amount of choice!".
Was there choice? While it was true that you had a smidge of a say, it was just that. Furthermore, that smidge had to be based on standing, finances and the criteria deemed 'important' for your marriage. Love was not on the list. Maybe a word tossed around or an act indulged in, but nowhere near the other criteria.
How would they react if you told them who you truly wanted to marry? How would they like their daughter throwing away business owners, legacy holders and other 'fancier' nobles for the one who dealt with the backdoor business of Fontaine? No matter, you decided to use that 'smidge' to the best of your ability.
"I'm glad to see I can marry up.".
"Yes, yes. Now look here, my dear. Your mother likes Count Evermore, since he seemed sweet with you...".
And off your parents went off, comparing this Lord and that important person to the other. There was whose business would last longer, which last name had more history, which was cleaner... After the third new name, your mind fazed out to Wriothesley. You wanted to be courted by Wriothesley. You wanted to say yes to Wriothesley. Screw the Evermores, Archadelles, Demauris... Being a queen itself did not compare to being his Duchess of Meropide.
"There are still a couple of unread letters, though...".
"Eh, I don't know. My heart's already set on Archandelle or Evermore... But we'll see these too. There's Dukes and Viscounts, which is good...".
It was as if timing synced up. Your mother grabbed an envelope featuring a wolf crest. No, the wolf he wears right under his shoulder.
It seemed relatively short, but the text must be good. Your mother looked pleased for a minute.
"Oh, my! Gentlemen who are this sentimental about their potential wives are quite rare! Oh...".
When she got to the sender's signature, the dreamlike effect waned off of her. It was as if she was hoping someone else had sent this one. Your father took one look at the crest and understood it all. Nevertheless, he still read it. For now, playing a little dumb (as any good girl should be, in their opinion) sounded like the best option to prod.
"Who is that, father?".
He took a deep breath and looked at it as he answered: "Duke Wriothesley of Meropide. (he chortled) I wonder if he took writing classes while we were away?".
You didn't know how to feel anymore. At first, your despair was replaced by the sheer joy his name brought you. Yes, that was the one you loved best! And you saw some of his past written inquiries, he was always well-spoken and eloquent. Why was your father insinuating that the opposite was normal? You wanted to see it and compare it to what he wrote to your grandfather.
"By the way, Y/N, there's something we must ask you. During our last party, you were seen chatting in a rather... Animated fashion with him. What were you talking about?".
Crap. You should have expected gossip to fly around and narrow your parents' eyes at you. You went with the safe answer: "Mostly books and music. He likes going to the opera whenever he can.".
"But we don't see him often, so I'm presuming he's not always free, is he dear? I was frankly shocked that he even came to the party.".
You knew they'd be nitpicky about even nobles who fit their bill, let alone someone considered 'atypical'. But did anyone see you two leaving? Heart thumping in fear, you prayed to Focalors that they just heard of you two talking and nothing else.
"I mean... Mother, father, while he may not be the most typical Duke, he's still an important component in Fontaine's justice and security. Haven't you noticed crime rates have plummeted ever since he took over? Just like Count Evermore, he holds justice close to his heart.".
Your mother nodded, seeing your point of view, before turning to your father: "I prefer other gentlemen, but she's not entirely wrong. We want her to be with someone who exemplifies Fontaine's core values, just as she embodies them.".
"Yes, yes. We might take that into consideration, but listen to me, Y/N...".
You were so sick of these lectures, but it seemed like your point might hold weight. Grin and bear it. Grin and bear it for him.
"We'll want to consider as many as we can, then narrow down the choice, which will happen after the next event. However, we've raised you to know the best options. You know there are many, many better options laid out to you right now. Unless something happens and they fall from grace, for example, keep the bulk of your attention on the Dukes we have discussed most.".
"...Yes, Father.".
He called out to his wife: "Aren't I right? Isn't what I'm saying the core of successful marriage?".
"Yes, yes, my dear. Though she'll entertain many conversations, she'll focus on our best options. And I must say, it's entertaining how we didn't have to do that much narrowing down, since she's got choice.".
He smiled fondly at you: "Indeed. I know we've raised a fine, young lady. Only at her social debut and she's already brought us so much praise.".
For years, you had yearned for this moment; Your parents smiling like the ones in the fairy tales, kindly praising you and reminding you that they loved you. Had you had this recognition a couple of years ago, you'd readily accept whatever husband they threw at you. But at this stage, it was too little, too late. Your heart has already been captured by Wriothesley, your thoughts invaded by him and no amount of love (Which, conveniently, only arrived after their 'investment' paid off) could change that. You focused on the bright side of seeing him again, and the chance he'll get of putting a good impression to your parents. A Duke was well-versed in that, especially if he liked the lady in question.
The servant knocked: "Forgive me for disturbing this important discussion, but young Lady Y/N's tutor has arrived and inquired as to whether she has lessons for today or not.".
"Oh heavens no! You should get going, my dear. Skipping lessons would be the last thing you need!".
----------------------------------------------------------------------
"That sounds like quite a feat of courage on your part, Duke Archandelle!".
"Indeed, Baron Balthazar. But it might not be courage so much as enjoying the hunting season.".
You did not like this arrangement; Your parents and yourself were with Duke Archandelle, the two men chatting away. Within its course, your father seemed happier and happier, which was bad for you. He's looking for any Duke to pick over Wriothesley, and if Archandelle is 'too good' per say, you know who you're getting paired off with and it's not the one you makes you swoon, laugh, or question the deeper nuances of life. Not the one you love.
"You remind me a bit of myself in my younger years. It's a rite of passage to go after the largest deer your group can find.".
"And the night that followed was equally as thrilling. (he gave you a slight glance) We watched a gorgeous ballet number at the Opera. The Lady of Cooler Waters, I believe.".
The mention made your parents more excited. Here was a kind, courteous gentleman who helped you watch your step, who enjoyed the hunting season and the arts in the same day. Manly, but not brutish. Basically, a perfectly adjusted and balanced gentleman.
A knockoff version of my Wriothesley. How thrilling.
Speak of the devil, tufts of black and silver hair appeared in the sea of blondes. They were twisting around, as if their head was turning around a lot to look for something. In the end, it was someone, and there he was, looking so broodingly handsome and making every other man in the room look average at best. His blue eyes scanned the room, and once they landed on you, it was over for the both of you.
You wanted to swim in those cold eyes until you got hypothermia. You wanted to be thrown into their cool pond and feel the temperature restart your system. But what a paradox took place; Once he found you, your heart felt ready to explode on the spot, and your temperature was rising rather quickly. The once-light dress now felt stuffy. If you fainted, how would you explain this to your parents? You saw his own pupils dilate and his stoic expression break out into an enchanted smile that meant a million more than your parents' or that stupid Archandelle's.
He's here. He looks so handsome. His smile is so cute and gorgeous. Why can't he just come in and join our conversation? Stupid high society social codes!
You could tell that he was trying to get close, already in conversation with a few others nearby. Though they were trying to focus on what he was saying, they were gazing - either in surprise or in prejudice - at his wolf ears.
So rude! So ignorant and incapable of realizing that he's far more handsome that he ever will be!
Once Archandelle left to catch up with a friend (not before obnoxiously letting you know that he wants to talk to you again), a bit of freeway opened up for Wriothesley. Ever the go-getter, you didn't doubt that he'd take it.
"Ah, Baron Balthazar, you picked quite the lovely night to plan this.".
Your father smiled, although it looked rather forced. You bet he wouldn't look like that if it was any other noble: "Duke Wriothesley! What a pleasant surprise, we were worried that you might not make it!".
"Oh? Well, I've always had a penchant for surprising people. How do you do, Madame Balthazar?".
Your mother exchanged pleasantries in the same tense way your father did, her eyes narrowing down on his ears. No wonder he was so happy when you expressed appreciation for lycanthrope culture; Everyone else was being such a jerk about it, and you wondered how he lived side by side with it. Maye you can ask that later.
Though he talked to your parents, you couldn't avoid his gaze. He didn't like a lot of the people here, them included (not that you could blame him). He didn't come here for them, but for you. Enough with the pleasantries, he decided.
"I think by now, you know of my feelings regarding the beautiful young Lady Balthazar. And so, I couldn't let myself show up without a present for her.".
He handed you a small, silver box; Sleek, minimalistic but with a beauty that didn't need the other nobles' gaudiness to shine. You opened it to find a silver bracelet (how did he guess your wrist size, anyway?!) adorned with the same wolf emblem he wore.
Deep breaths! Deep breaths! Don't faint or blush, act normal!
After one, you finally got to talk: "Oh, Your Grace! I-I... Forgive me for my lack of speech, it's splendid!".
Your original plan was to not be too excited by him, but could you really help it? A few other nobles got you presents, too, but you had to question your class' taste in what a lady would like. This was just perfect. If it weren't for your parents, you'd wear it right now, but you had to control yourself.
Your father coughed: "Hem! Er- Thank you for the thoughtful gift, though one would deem it a bit too confident to have their crest on it... Say, how are things at the Fortress?".
He had the urge to punch this annoying old man. Here you were, happy and frickin adorable over wearing his crest, already so eager to demonstrate who you belong to, then here comes the Baron to shut this moment down.
"Pretty stable for now. We aren't receiving many new inmates. Perhaps people are losing interest in crime, in which case, that's a victory for Fontaine.".
"Mhm. Yes, indeed. We have much to thank you for, especially your service. I can imagine it's a hard job.".
He chuckled a little, stealing whatever gaze he could at you (man, he felt like he was reverting to his young thief self): "Not necessarily. Most people behave, and you learn quite a bit. I'm still rather young for a Duke, but ever since I started, I've become much better at protecting what matters to me.".
As he talked, it was more obvious that by 'what matters', that included you. Now the image was stuck in your head: You, in danger for whatever reason, and him dashing in to save you and proclaim that you're his drive, his love, what matters to him the most. This sounded like your fairytale prince. Did anyone in your manor think that way of you? Did you even matter to the other nobles beyond potential unions with a historic and important name?
"I'll cut to the chase, Your Grace, since my daughter is the biggest reason behind the last two events. Say you two married; Would she always be what matters to you? Do keep in mind that that's a heavy proclamation.".
The beautiful thing about Wriothesley was that he was ready for such questions. Most nobles hired a conversation coach to 'deal with the maiden's father' so they could speak well in front of him, thus swaying his opinion in their favor. Wriothesley was genuine. Earnest. He only needed himself to back up his claims.
"I said it, and it will always apply. If you know me well, you'll notice, dear Baron, that I'm a man who finds principles that work and sticks to them. The same applies to deciding my priorities, even if other people may not see what I see.".
"What do you mean by that?".
"I myself was always interested in being married, but you know how the start of a career is; So hectic, you can barely think of anything else. I could see where the rumor of me losing interest in companionship came from. Now that I'm more established on several aspects, I can focus on my own personal goals, including being a good husband."
"Yes, indeed. It does take a gentleman a while before he gets married. And considering your important position, I can presume my daughter will be taken care of?".
Perhaps you should look into a Kamera, to always have a picture of that sweet smile: "Without a flicker of a doubt. And I know courtship should take a while. Please take all the time you need to decide. Should you want to know anything that you think might impact the process, please let me know.".
You wanted to declare victory; He could stand against Duke Archandelle and (at least) make the choice harder for your father.
"Do forgive me suspicion, dear Duke, but does what matters to you extend to... you know... People who aren't, of your ilk?".
Oh no. Oh no, no, no please...
As he said 'of your ilk', he pointed at his own head, referring to Wriothesley's wolf ears. You could feel your love tense up, but keep his cool for another reason besides you; Hybrids were held to such an unfair standard. One trace of annoyance or anger from them and everyone would talk about how 'they're too dangerous to live in human society!'.
"Pardon, my ilk? We're all noble Fontainians here.".
"Oh, I can tell you only come with chivalry and good intentions. But I must point out that even if I'm just a Baron, 'Balthazar' is among Fontaine's oldest and most noble names. People look up to us even more than the average noble family, including our unions and bonds. So marriage has always been a very tricky thing for us, even with close humans.".
Both of you tensed up, and you had to fight back tears. While there was still a chance, technically, you father was alluding to rejecting this pairing, possibly in favor of another Duke.
This is unfair. This is so unfair, and you never wished to not be a noble until tonight. No, you wished you had no parents, that way you could control your fate a bit more, even if people gave you the side eye. Even by noble standards, he was husband material! You wouldn't have to move a finger as his wife. You'd be touted as important, as 'a lady of justice' since that's what your husband is involved in. But no, your parents just have to shut their eyes and ears and call all the shots in relation to you-
Oh, Focalors, what did I do so wrong for you to let me be born as their daughter? Wouldn't it be better if I were just his prisoner? Even now, a prisoner is more his than me!
BOOM!
A loud sound resonated from one of the gardens. The music's abrupt stop further panicked many people, some leaving the ballroom to see what's going on, others peering over the balconies. Your parents belonged to the first camp. A hand immediately grabbed yours; It was Wriothesley's.
"Quick, we're on limited time!".
You both made a dash for a spare room nearby. He closed the door and finally caught his breath. Before you could ask what he was doing, he lunged to embrace you in his arms, the sheer strength making you gasp.
"Okay, listen. I need to tell you two things, okay? They're very important...".
He stopped to pant again.
"Wriothesley, what's going on?".
"A friend of mine made a diversion to buy us time. I can't say these things in front of your parents.".
You nodded.
"First of all, starting tonight and per usual courtship processes, your parents might be spying on what mail you get, so our communication will be halted if they find out... If they find out what we say to each other. But I have a way to keep it up. Can you stay up for a bit to see it, maybe around 12 or 1 AM?".
"Certainly, certainly! If it helps us keep talking, I will!".
Even with the stress rushing through him, your eagerness brought on a multitude of emotions. Gosh, you were so cute. It wasn't enough for you to be so adorable early on, and his own personal type, was it? Your reaction made it clear that he wasn't the only one feeling this way. He was glad that the first plan would work out.
"Thank you. It's vital if we wish to be together. It doesn't sound like I can hold up to the competition your Father has for me-".
The allusion to him not being enough was the last straw for tonight.
"Don't say that, don't say that again! He doesn't know anything about what makes a good man, alright? He demonstrated that enough tonight! You're worth a million more of these stupid other men, okay?!".
He knew ladies were capable of being angry, but something about seeing it in real life, for the first time, was astounding. And yet deep down, he saw the outburst coming. Between your shaking hands and teary eyes, and how much you had to hide them from your father... His heart broke a little at seeing the love of his life so anguished, her tears dripping down quicker than she could wipe them.
"It's so obvious he doesn't care! He'll gladly excuse poor table manners or slimy behavior in general, but when someone just happens to be a bit different, that's when he says 'no sale' and shuts me up! 'We care about good repute and you', my foot! It's all about his name and what he wants... Why does my say not matter? Why?".
You didn't want Wriothesley to see you in this state so early, but after tonight's tension, you just couldn't. You were so sick of living with your shots being called for you. For so long, life was horribly dull, depressing through the lens of a growing child. When you finally found someone who washed away that grey and exposed you to the color of life, you were told you were forbidden from having it ever again. You had to follow the life script your parents wrote, your happiness be damned.
Your sobs racketed up and down, before quieting when you felt his weight on you; Slowly, warmly and lovingly.
"Star of my life... I'm so sorry for how tonight went. Believe me, I wanted to punch him. I hate how rigid this social code is, even more on you...".
You just realized that this was the first time he touched you beyond holding your hand. When you were young, you imagined your favorite chimney in the house to be the warmest place in the world. Oh how wrong you were, but to be fair, you couldn't have known before he took you in his arms; A fortress and a hearth all at once.
"I'm so sorry... You know, I was about to tell you the second thing, which I believe may help you...".
"What is the second thing?".
He slightly detached himself, though still holding you, to look deep into your eyes and silently swear upon those beautiful orbs: "By the name of Focalors and my own as the Duke of Meropide, you will be mine. We will end up together and you'll forget the names of the other men. Yes, we'll face some hiccups along the way. But in the end, all your other suitors will fall, one way or another. And once that happens, we'll be looming over them, with you in my arms for the rest of our lives.".
"Wriothesley... Forever?".
"Yes. We'll never have to face a dull day again. Forever. Forever, until Fontaine keels over and becomes dust.".
Your breath slowed down. He sounded so serious, and you wanted to believe in it. This man's caliber was an exceptional one, and something told you that once he made a promise, he kept it until he withered.
He leaned in a little and so did you. Your time was probably out, but you'll be damned if you can't enjoy it. You were closer, and closer, taking in his scent of cedar and myrrh until...
"That explosion was scary!"
"Shows you that commoners have no concept of watching over their kids.".
The nobles were slowly filing back into the ballroom. Wriothesley let out a quiet 'Goddamnit!", before looking through the door. Once the camp was clear, you left earlier, armed with the lie he gave you: "Oh, I lost my parents and I was so scared!". Perfect for a fragile, innocent maiden. The party went on, and you started questioning what the new way of communication would look like. The 'spying' aspect brought a bit of amusement to your mood, which you needed.
----------------------------------------------------------
12:49 AM
Wriothesley ended up being right about your parents controlling your mail. One letter from a male classmate ended up opened and half-torn on fear that he was a rival suitor, before they read the hasty message asking you about a homework assignment. You presumed he's seen many courting processes (perhaps wondering when did he get to be the groom?) and understood their workings well.
The letter you were writing was almost complete. You felt a little clearer in the head after venting out on paper, albeit still very sad. Your father really, really wanted to pair you with Duke Archandelle. But Wriothesley was so determined, even risking his friend - and himself, should they snitch him out - to tell you to not lose hope. For now, all you could do is wait for the 'new method of communication'.
In the meantime, you tried to play a little guessing game to keep your mind off of everything, but to no avail. You also wore the wolf bracelet, its sheen reminding you of his piercing eyes and silver tufts. Your thought of train was about to restart until you heard a small bark.
"Huh?".
Save for the security Dobermanns you often have, dogs were not allowed in the manor. Were you perhaps just thinking about your own dog-like lover too much?
"Arf!"
This one was much louder, and on the left side of the table. The source of the barks was an adorable husky puppy, smiling and approaching you. He wore a collar with the Duke's crest on it, and a sort of paper backpack which you presumed had Wriothesley's message for you.
"Awwwww, you're so cute!!".
You weren't often exposed to dogs, but nevertheless you took it in your arms to pet it. His color scheme reminded you so much of Wriothesley, you wondered whether it could be him in his animal form. The collar was double-sided: The back had 'Frosty' written on it in clumsy handwriting that you knew wasn't the Duke's.
"Frosty? Were you sent by Duke Wriothesley of Meropide?".
He barked again, as if confirming your questions. You took out the 'backpack' to find an actual letter, a whistle wrapped up in another note which read:
ABOUT FROSTY
Y/N, excuse my handwriting and format, I'm writing this in a hurry. Before you ask, Sigewinne named the pup. She wanted to name him 'Wriothesley The Second', originally, then settled with 'Frosty' since that was the closest compromise we found. I rescued him from drowning two weeks ago and planned to hand him over to a reputable shelter, until I noticed his smarts. He's delivered my mail efficiently, even if it was his first time going to a new place. He knows where we both live, and answers to the whistle enclosed with him. Use it if you need to send me anything, especially something urgent. You will be my wife soon, so we should get into the habit of good communication. Don't hesitate to tell me anything, especially if it terrifies or excites you. I always have an ear for you.
Wriothesley.
Archons, Wriothesley was so cute. He looked so tough but you could always count on him to decide on such a way. You attached your own letter and pet Frosty one more time before he disappeared into the night.
'You will be my wife soon...' Will I, Wriothesley? Will I really see a day where I'll wake up with you by my side, and not bemoaning my being alive, but thanking my stars for the arrangement?
You two will be together. You weren't sure how many more boring dates you had to go to with Archandelle, but as Agatha told you: All was in due time. It had be a matter of when, not if, the promise was fulfilled and you would no longer belong to your father. Oh, you could hardly wait for that day. For one you'll be wearing the bracelet he gave you. That day would also have sweets, love and definitely not him.
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