[ another month brings another full moon, and with the winter solstice, it doesn’t surprise wriothesley that this lunar cycle feels a little more intense—what with the nights stretching longer, and instincts thrumming louder in turn. he can already feel the pulse of his natural soul when he nearly jolts awake with a rough start that morning.
so, to avoid a repeat of last month’s chaos, wriothesley figures it would be better to rely on a bit of imprinting to keep the frenzy at bay. though truth be told, he doesn’t have a long list of imprints he’d trust to keep both the situation—and himself—contained, especially if what that odd stranger said about his scent hitting a fever pitch turns out to be true this time around as well. still, calling on someone is infinitely better than roaming the streets late night again and fighting the pull to completely shift or let certain instincts bleed through in his more human form.
and after carefully—painfully—weighing his limited options, wriothesley settles on reaching out to potentially the only person calm enough to handle it all. it’s not ideal to spring it on neuvillette the day of, but at least it’s still early enough in the day for the other to consider... and for wriothesley to plan accordingly if he really is left with no one to fall back on. ]
Good morning, Neuvillette. Hopefully I caught you at a good time?
[ his cadence carries the usual drawl, but there's no mistaking the edge of exasperation in his tone—less out of irritation and more from trying to quell the strange heat sparking somewhere in his chest. ]
( it has been a few days, and neuvillette is still getting used to the use of instantaneous communication — one of the marvels of this place. there is no need for one to wait for correspondences, and he finds himself fascinated by the remarkable way one can simply turn on a device and hear wriothesley's voice. or see another. or receive telegrams immediately. )
Ah, Wriothesley. Hello.
( simply remarkable. he lifts the device from his ear briefly, inspecting it before putting it back to his ear again. his tone is warm, but he shifts when he picks up on that subtle thread of exasperation in his tone, tilting his head. )
You have. ( wriothesley can never catch him at a bad time: if he has, neuvillette will simply make space. ) Is something the matter?
YOURE BARELY 24 HRS INTO THIS GAME AND WE'RE ALREADY HERE
[ if wriothesley weren’t wrestling with the odd need for warmth and closeness—that hasn’t quite turned mind-numbing just yet—he’d be treating this personal line with neuvillette with far more thought and care. but some things can’t be helped here in karteria, and rather than dwell on what he still can’t fully control, he’s at least grateful for how neuvillette answers plainly, as if it were just any other conversation.
which makes thinking up an equally ‘normal’ response a touch harder, though it gives him something to focus on. there’s no need to dress it up too much, so he lets out a short, barked laugh before continuing. ]
Truth be told, I'm sort of at a loss for how to word it all—but try and bear with me for a moment.
[ there's a low hum on his end. ]
Our last conversation. At the Valentia, when we talked about the changes with my soul. Well, what’s bound to happen tonight is... definitely one of them.
( in the years he has spent in close proximity with this particular personal relationship, neuvillette has learned how to divine the subtle nuances of wriothesley's laugh — the man puts up a fine front often, even if he's markedly less diligent about it in neuvillette's company. and neuvillette, well? he knows nothing else but honesty, which is perhaps why they get along so splendidly.
to hear the duke's admission of being at a loss is a novel thing, too; the man is shrewd and quick on his feet, but perhaps the entire experience of being trapped within karteria brings with it a host of new issues they haven't yet foreseen. neuvillette dreads having to experience the eventuality of it for himself, and appreciates the courage it takes for the wriothesley to admit that he needs help. )
Of course. ( he says, because that why he sounds like that, like he's readying himself for a difficult conversation. he shifts, his own concern for him overriding everything else. ) How may I help?
[ with more darkness than daylight during the solstice months, wriothesley has been staying fairly active around the clock—or at the very least, rising much earlier and generally being more active than neuvillette, even as the cold always manages to seep into the odd corners of their shared apartment. it’s a shame the winter season seems to be weighing down neuvillette in more ways than one.
nevertheless, when neuvillette wakes and goes through the motions of his morning routine, he’ll find the kitchen table modestly adorned with several items. namely: a small floral arrangement, a folded quilt, and a nearly matching quilted robe (matching more in make than in design, given the fleur-de-lis top-stitching on the former), and a small jewelry box containing cufflinks.
a low whistle hums from the kettle, with the stove set to a small flame to keep the water warm and the kitchen gently heated. but above all else is a decorated card, marked by a familiar scrawl: ]
Good morning, and happy birthday, Neuvillette.
It seems most of my efforts were outshined by the sudden appearance of some of your clothing from home, but it never hurts to have more of a good thing, does it? But before you get too comfortable breaking in the new quilt and robe, though, you’ve got an appointment at Hé Huā this morning for a bit of R&R.
Admittedly, I may have embellished a few of your 'symptoms,’ but I’d argue the work you’ve been putting in during our evenings more than warrants the treatments offered. So take full advantage of them—for the both of us—and let me know how it goes.
The weather hasn't been particularly cooperative, and the sun only makes brief appearances, but I’ve arranged a small get-together this evening with Aether and Miss Navia at the former’s apartment. You’ll have to make the trek, unfortunately, since we’ll all be cooking up until you arrive—but you know how to reach us if you’d like to come by earlier.
Have a wonderful day, Neuvillette. We're all looking forward to seeing you tonight.
I know Wriothesley must have mentioned the small get-together we're having, but I wanted to wish you a very happy birthday on my own before I start cooking. I'm in charge of desserts, obviously, and while we may not be in Fontaine, I am going to try and bring the Hotel Debord's great dessert selection to you! While I may not be as good as Chef Escoffier, I have picked up a few tips from her!
I only hope that we can all make your birthday a nice ray of sunshine while we're here.
[The letter than Neuvillette will find comes with a small bag of cookies that are shaped like little dragons, similar to those found on Saurus Crackers. People of Natlan and Saurians love them, so hopefully Neuvillette will enjoy them as well.
The letter itself is quite simple:]
Happy birthday!
In this special day, the stars send you all the well wishes! We may have found ourselves in a difficult world to be in, but that doesn't mean we can't enjoy our time here.
And speaking of! I hope you will accept this little invitation for a birthday party! Location: my apartment. Please feel yourself at home when you're there!
The gathering will be small, with myself, Wriothesley and Navia. We hope you'll enjoy it and we can't wait to see you soon!
-Aether
-------
[Once Neuvillette will reach the apartment for their little gathering, Aether will eagerly open the door for him and usher him inside. The air is full of delicious smells from various dishes prepared by the trio and the traveler is grinning bright, awaiting the Iudex's reaction.]
I hope you didn't get too cold... If so, we'll make sure to warm you up!
[If needed, Aether has a blanket waiting on the couch, just in case their friend needed it. The traveler leads Neuvillette towards Navia and Wriothesley, then leaves for a moment to grab a small box and gift it to the Hydro Dragon.]
And here's a little something from me. It's nothing special, but I hope it'll be useful, especially now.
[Navia's spent most of her day at her place cooking since she knew the boys would be cooking at Aether's. Her macarons were, of course, among the menu items, but with it being Neuvillette's birthday, she couldn't help but want to go a little overboard. What sat on the table next to the macarons was a familiar cake that might have been seen at Hotel Debord. While it wasn't as fancy as the one there, Navia might have tried her hand at it. This was also her second iteration of the cake, because the first one didn't turn out quite as she liked and ended up eating it while she cried.
Her gift box was a little larger, wrapped in a gold bow. Inside, a blue glass chess set, which honestly reminded her of the waters back home. She thought of him the moment she saw it. ]
Me next! Now, with it being so cold, I know we're spending time indoors. This is so you'll have something to keep you occupied.
[ meanwhile, the only thing wriothesley has on hand to offer are the apéritifs and soup he’s still tending to as he holds down the kitchen, leaving the other two cooks to hurry out and greet neuvillette with their gifts in tow. not wanting to take away from either of their moments, wriothesley simply smiles and lifts a hand in greeting as neuvillette is more or less guided to sit in the living room. he does, however, take a quiet moment to lean against the counter and watch it all unfold—content to soak in the easy joy of an evening shared among remarkable friends and warm company. ]
( neuvillette, being a stickler for punctuality amidst other things, arrives a few minutes early, bearing some glass bottles of water that he has purified on his own. the letters and gifts he had received from wriothesley, aether, and navia had cheered him up considerably, drawing him from melancholy to warmth.
he accepts the warm scarf and the beautiful glass chess set (blue as the waters of fontaine) with surprise, delight, and no small amount of gratitude — truly, he had not expected such thoughtful gifts on top of this dinner they have clearly worked hard at preparing for him. how wonderful, to be amidst such friends and enjoy their company, and oh, that cake is indeed familiar!
eyes bright and smile warm, neuvillette actually looks very, very happy, taking in everything and clearly being unable to help but step closer to them both, nodding at wriothesley to acknowledge him as well. )
Thank you, truly. Aether, Navia, Wriothesley... you have gone to great trouble on such a day, and I am truly grateful for your thoughtfulness. These gifts are special to me, as is all the work you have put in. Have you all spent the whole day working on this?
▌ cw: jan 3 supermoon, wolf moon, and start of breeding months "No! No! No!" - berleezy, 2022
[ wriothesley wakes in a slow, disoriented stir, blinking against the lingering darkness of another early morning into the new year. the sky outside is still black, the hour unholy, and for a moment it feels as if he’s simply caught in an odd dream. but then it hits him—a sudden, rising wave of heat and vertigo that grips him the moment he tries to sit up. his body doesn't cooperate. his hands fist into the damp sheets at his side of the bed, breath coming shallow and uncertain as sweat clings to his collarbones. there’s something wrong. he knows it immediately, and not in the distant, logical sense that usually accompanies his instinct. no, this is visceral—raw and pulsing, a low thrum beneath his skin that even leaves him aware of how entirely off his scent is. his pulse is erratic, pounding against his ribs like it’s trying to keep pace with something far older and deeper than blood. and while he can’t place it, his body seems to know exactly what’s happening.
and for what might be the first time in his life, wriothesley looks toward neuvillette with no armor; no pretense, no measure of control. the older man is still asleep, peaceful in a way that makes wriothesley's breath stutter. then heat floods his abdomen, thick and sudden and insistent. it’s not embarrassment or desire in the usual sense—it’s need, hollow and aching, something that blooms low and deep and refuses to be ignored. his limbs feel too hot, his skin too tight, his bones straining beneath a pressure he can’t ease. so he shifts, restless, and it takes him a full moment to realize his cock is hard and already leaking onto his stomach. however, the shame doesn’t land. there’s no room for it—not with how his lungs keep drawing in air that feels thick and cloying, as if the room itself has grown too close. ]
Neuvillette. Neuvi—
[ he tries to call neuvillette’s name. but even that thread of control is already slipping, because the moment he speaks, he breathes in deeper, and this time the scent hits him like a blow. it’s not a lingering trace of shared sleep or the faded remnants of their intimacy. it’s something else entirely as neuvillette’s scent is full and sharp, soaked in sovereignty and old power, the kind that settles into the air like a gathering storm. it clings to wriothesley’s tongue, floods his throat, and sends a sharp tremor down his spine. his breath catches on a low moan, not from pleasure but from sheer instinct—some part of him responding before his mind can catch up.
his tongue finds the slope of neuvillette’s neck, dragging slow over the pulse point where scent lingers strongest. it’s a reverent motion—desperate and unthinking—and his hips buck forward of their own accord, cock sliding messily against his abdomen as he presses closer into the heat and gravity of the other man. logic is a distant thing. where all he knows is that neuvillette smells like safety and something in wriothesley wants to drown in it.
he breathes the man’s name again, but it’s no longer an attempt to wake him. it’s a prayer now, strung with quiet pleading, sweet and cracked at the edges as he mouths at neuvillette’s shoulder and jawline, pressing open-mouthed kisses and sharp little nips against the skin where that scent sings strongest. he’s moaning now, softly, almost feverishly, as he ruts against whatever part of neuvillette he can reach. it isn’t coordinated or even intentional. it’s just need, primal and pulsing through his body like a current, leaving him dizzy and undone. he wants—no, he aches—to be touched, claimed, steadied, anything to keep from falling apart. but even without a clear thought in his head, it’s neuvillette’s presence that he clings to. the one fixed point in a world that’s just become far too hot to hold. ]
( neuvillette has become used to sleeping with another in his bed — namely, wriothesley. he is accustomed to the warmth of his body, the wag of his tail when he dreams about something exhilarating, the warm fluff of it in his face whenever neuvillette ends up spooning him sometime during the night... in the many nights they have now spent together as the year passed, neuvillette likes to think that he has grasped the man's sleeping patterns.
at least, when they aren't busy defiling the bed and having to launder fresh sheets every time.
this night, neuvillette sleeps deeply, an arm wrapped possessively around wriothesley and his face tucked into the crook of his shoulder. when wriothesley moves, restless and squirming, he exhales and loosens his grip, still caught up in sleep and unfortunately unmindful of the younger man's distress. he barely hears him call his name, but that warm tongue, hungry and eager, begins to stir him into burgeoning wakefulness.
the process is slow, but steady, and when his beloved pleads for him so sweetly and moans, as if swept up in something that neuvillette has no comprehension of, neuvillette blinks sleepily, his hand coming to curl in his hair, massaging an ear to soothe him. )
Wriothesley, darling — ( is he rutting against him? his sleep-fogged voice is thick, almost slurring, but neuvillette is blinking, a touch more concerned than tired. his other hand comes down to rest on his waist, rolling his hips lightly to indulge, but nonetheless confused. he would've enjoyed this, if not for the distress that's rolling off of the other. ) what's the matter?
[ speaking of the sheets, it’s a shame to think of where they’re headed now—considering how snugly they’d been wrapped up in each other, both tangled in warmth and sleep. that comfort, precious as it was, barely stands a chance once the moon crests so early in the morning.
he’s still trying to hold on to softness when neuvillette rouses slowly beside him. the quiet sighs, the way the other's fingers graze over his ears—none of it truly helps in soothing him. if anything, it only fans the burn and sharpens the edge of his want. but it’s the way neuvillette breathes out his name, still softened by the last dredges of sleep, that does him in completely. wriothesley presses closer, burying himself in the other's arms—not just to steal the comfort, but to grind in deeper, to give in to what his body’s already decided. his kisses grow hungrier, scenting more desperate, as the heat of his cock presses shamelessly against neuvillette’s hip. and he lets the full weight of his body settle over neuvillette, pinning him down with quiet intent.
there’s a flash of teeth, a low huff of a laugh, and when wriothesley finally speaks, his voice curls warm and unhurried by neuvillette’s ear. ]
There you are.
[ there’s no further warning before his hand slips down, fevered and single-minded. he shoves beneath neuvillette’s waistband, fisting both cocks in one rough grip. his moan spills out low by neuvillette’s temple, breath shivering as he nuzzles in close, smearing his scent alongside the precum already slicking both lengths. neuvillette is still blessedly cool—just enough for wriothesley to drag some measure of relief from their closeness, even if it’s a losing game. the more contact they share, the more heat pours off him, cloaking them both in the weight of it. and still, being surrounded by neuvillette in all the ways that matter feels right. it feels like survival. ]
Keep up with me, would you? Just this once.
[ the words come slurred with heat—delirious ramblings that barely string together his usual clarity. but the way his hand works faster now, coaxing, is deliberate. if he’s lucid enough to say anything at all, it’s only to signal neuvillette for the usual hydro slick. and then he’s already moving, already gone—stripping his briefs in one breath, tugging neuvillette's draconic cocks free with the next. in a few slow, fevered beats, he straddles him.
the winter sky hangs low behind his shoulders, pale light from the balcony windows pouring over him. the solstice dimness makes the moon look closer than it should, like it’s watching. and under its glow, wriothesley’s eyes catch dark—blown wide, glassy with need. when he leans forward, the angles of his face are drawn with something hungrier than usual. something that almost looks like surrender.
his breath catches as he grinds back against neuvillette’s groin. there’s a stuttering gasp, a half-snarl of focus as he finds the angle, seats neuvillette’s slimmer, top-most cock between his cheeks, and sinks down slow. there’s no ceremony to it nor words. just the low hiss that breaks from his lips as the initial stretch burns him open. some spit on his palm helps a little, but not enough; as he works it down over the rest of the length he hasn’t taken in yet, bracing, then drops another few inches in a slow shudder.
it’s rare—this look on his face. something naked in the way his brow furrows and his mouth parts around another moan. wriothesley’s rarely this desperate and hardly this willing to outright take or demand. but this morning, he looks every bit the creature he tries to hold back: flushed, greedy, focused only on being filled. and he doesn’t stop moving until he’s stuffed full, hips rocking with dogged intent to take all that neuvillette has to give. ]
( keep up with him? oh, neuvillette will do more than that. it takes him a few moments to clock what is really happening to him, the subtle differences in their present encounter, steeped in distress and desperation, as if wriothesley is being commanded by something more powerful than himself, driven to reckless wanting, and the almost-certain way he will hurt himself to address that painful desire.
neuvillette doesn't question him when the puzzle clicks together into a visual, but he frowns in open concern, startled when his lover sinks down onto his cock without so much as a by-your-leave, scant lubricant. even neuvillette's smaller cock isn't small by any means, and he reaches up to tangle his hand in his hair, cradling the back of his head to pull him down tenderly.
he's here. he's here, dearest. and he will give him everything that he wants. in the sea of wriothesley's desperate need is the certainty of neuvillette's affection, the depth of his love and the awakening primal instincts of his dragonhood. he makes a soft, rumbling sound in response to wriothesley's fierce need, and he flips him onto his back in a swift move. wresting control back from him smoothly, he pulls out of him to push two hydro-slick fingers into him, grinding his cocks against his firmly while he fucks him open.
it won't do for him to hurt himself in his desperation to sate the beast of instinct that roars for completion. he aches to soothe him, feeling the same echo of that desperation in a different way — no, this is his partner, the other half of himself, and neuvillette is needed.
he kisses him deeply, swallowing all words, before he pulls his fingers out and drives the larger cock in unceremoniously, wanting wriothesley to feel it, all of it, every inch of his cock, thick and throbbing and long, sinking deep into him. he's forcing those walls to accommodate him anew, a hand closing around the base of wriothesley's cock to coax out his knot.
against the fever of wriothesley's need, neuvillette's words are calm. commanding. wriothesley is his to have and sate, no other. )
I was wondering if you'd like to join me for some tea or a walk? Tea would be at my apartment, where it is beautifully warm. The walk would be outside, but that can't be faulted.
I am delighted to receive your invitation. Yes, I would very much enjoy tea with you. allow me to purchase your favorite sweets to pair with your tea. The cold will, unfortunately, not be kind to either of us.
( neuvillette doesn't need to read minds to know that he is definitely underplaying this.
wriothesley is not someone who will rely on anyone to send him home if he can help it, and clearly, he can't. for the first time in a long while, he feels alarmed, on alert, and incredibly worried. )
[ there are a lot of things right now that take a great deal of effort to do, but his personal struggles in trying to reach neuvillette are largely on account of decisions made under duress. from the sound of the sky splitting as the barrier cracked, to the news of a failed pillar that followed, neuvillette would be right to assume wriothesley had gotten tangled up in the sudden crisis. given that cutting through the uppermost districts is on his path to and from the farm, the only grief wriothesley gives himself out of all this is perhaps not sending neuvillette a message sooner. or maybe, trying to take on the task at hand without the other man by his side—or even just a friendly face nearby.
nevertheless, trying to shoo away aodh after arriving is an obstacle only solved by a rather reckless promise he’ll end up regretting, especially while talking neuvillette through another one of his missteps. after that, it's a bit of shambling to make his way up to their home, and with some struggle in trying to turn the knob of the front door with his usual hand out of habit—he’s long past the point of registering pain when he realizes he’s been trying to use his injured hand.
fingers fail to grip as he maneuvers his other hand to take over the motion, trying to at least steady and compose as much of himself as he can before stepping into the threshold of their home.
the sight neuvillette is greeted to isn’t too concerning, at least in the moment, since his usual overcoat does a decent job hiding most of his frame. but soon enough, the damage becomes obvious once he lets the only piece of clothing left after fully shifting drop to the ground. muscles have grown back over bone, and the bulk of his wounds have only the thinnest layer of skin—which is a good sign, judging from the dried blood around every mismatched patch of fresh scar tissue. the usual marks at his throat pale in comparison to the look of burned flesh that runs down the length of his entire right side.
either he’d hedged his bets correctly in having a hardy natural soul, or meaningfully imprinting with aodh helped immensely in keeping him alive up until now—if only by a thread. nevertheless, he steps forward to meet neuvillette halfway before allowing himself to lean on the other man when they meet. the voice that follows sounds as battered as he looks, but he behaves beneath every worried touch. ]
I think it's starting to look better.
[ it’s less of a dark joke and more of a serious observation—he’s just a little emotionally flattened from the pain. ]
[ the denouement feels like a slow creep and a whirlwind at once. although that's largely a perception wriothesley carries born from falling in and out of consciousness during the worst of the recovery, then flitting between the buzz of sedatives in the immediate aftercare. judging from neuvillette's expressions throughout the week, along with everyone else's; containing the madness was a fittingly horrifying and taxing ordeal. and after entertaining the stream of friends who stepped in to help both him and neuvillette through the worst of it, wriothesley has kept up a convincing performance since being more lucid: that if he behaves as he should from now on, then they needn't stay too long.
and while it's hard to make spoken promises of prudence in a place like karteria, wriothesley admits easily enough to exercising far more caution moving forward. if only to spare everyone, and above all neuvillette, from worrying themselves sick or find themselves tangled in more corruption in looking after him.
so when wriothesley waves off the last of their sudden guests, largely by walking them to the front gate, he turns to face neuvillette with a rueful smile. tired and still mangled, but overall faring better. he lumbers his way back toward their front door, and the first real emotion he shares between them alone is one of wavering relief. for a split second—an instinct borne of his own sordid upbringing—he seems to steel himself for a real reprimand.. whether with cutting words or something a little more tactile. ]
So, any suggestions on what we do next? [ there's a pause as he steps into the threshold of their home and hovers close. almost bracing himself for any sort of reaction, response, or retort. ] Cleaning is mostly taken care of, thanks to everyone, but then there's dinner to think of still.. and I'm going to assume there's a nice, long heart-to-heart somewhere in there.
( the hours and days have blurred into an indiscernible period of time, marked by the ebb and flow of wriothesley's injuries and the dwindling violence of his healing. neuvillette finds himself endlessly grateful for the kindness of their friends, shared and otherwise — that their home has been thoughtfully, thoroughly cleaned in the aftermath of all of this is a testament to the warmth and grace extended by their fellow augmented.
wriothesley, it seems, needs even more time to recover. neuvillette can see it in the way he is more cautious, shedding his usual prowling grace for care. he looks rather the rough for wear, too, fraying at the edges when when seeing their friends off, and neuvillette can't blame him. it is a lot to digest all at once, to know the days you've lost when you have gone under for your own sanity. the agony that neuvillette has known in the past few days has dissipated, and his own healing had done the rest, leaving only bone-deep exhaustion that he sets aside for wriothesley's sake.
the tired, rueful smile he wears is a blessing, too, and neuvillette can't help but offer one in return, twitching lightly at the corners. if the duke expects a reprimand, he will find nothing of the sort; only relief that he has returned, un-tormented by his soul's healing abilities. neuvillette sets the near-decimated first aid kit aside, and makes a note to purchase new supplies, but that is not important now. what matters is that inevitable need for recalibration and a talk: a way to decompress and put to rest everything that has happened in the past week. the choices he had to make, all the truths wriothesley now has to face.
a part of him feels trepidation: had he made the right decisions for wriothesley? and this newfound, strange... connection between them, nascent and unexpected, redefining how they are to relate to each other. he feels the relief like his own and yet not, and he doesn't know what to think of it. what does he do with this, does wriothesley like it?
he stays close to him nonetheless, reaching out lightly to straighten the collar of his shirt. in the face of all the thing they have to address, he sorts out the easiest one first: )
I will heat up the leftovers in the fridge. Shall we speak as we dine? You will need to keep your strength up as you continue to heal.
[ neuvillette wears exhaustion much like wriothesley does—awkwardly, and with far too much emotion showing for his own liking. but at the end of the day, it's just the two of them again. same as it ever was after deciding to carve something in karteria for themselves; and outside of watching neuvillette quietly reach out to smooth the wrinkles from his shirt, wriothesley knows the gesture is as much for neuvillette’s comfort as it is for his own. and though he tries to tamp down the strangeness of their new emotional bond, there’s still a current of muted regret and concern that slips through.
it becomes harder to ignore once he notices the rough condition of neuvillette's hand: red and dry from tending to his wounds for days, with lingering traces of corruption from maintaining touch even as wriothesley's soul lashed out at the other in delirium. there's even a faint tremble from the iudex's hand that he can still feel through the fabric, likely from exhaustion and witnessing the same trauma they now share. even so, wriothesley holds himself steady for them both as he closes the front door behind them and leads the way to the kitchen. ]
I could go for one of the soups our friends have made. But really, I wouldn’t complain even if supper were just bouillon à la tasse.
[ while he knows neuvillette typically prefers soups and consommés served in proper tableware, wriothesley suspects the other might sense his desire for something simpler—something pacifying, even. amidst the haze of dulled emotions and the mental blocks he puts up between the pair bond, there's still a quiet longing for the sort of comfort that comes from sipping broth from a mug. something nostalgic and grounding. ]
That way, dinner and our talk won’t be such a hassle while we’re in bed. [ their conversation will be heavy, without question, and the last thing wriothesley wants is for it to taint their appetite or burden what should be a moment of peace. even as he suggests it, he’s keenly aware of how the idea might be taken, and quickly softens the implication. ] I promise it’s more about wanting a change of scenery for us than anything untoward.
[ he has no desire to spend another night in the parlor room. even though it's been scrubbed clean—free of all the viscera that nearly soaked through the baseboard moulding and up the walls—the room remains soured to him in more ways than one. it’s where old memories stirred, drawn up from the dark corners of orphanage halls, and where the echoes of blood and failure clung no matter how hard they all worked to mask it. what he wants now is simple and plainly familiar to them both. and he almost pleads for it in his emotions, silently—just the comfort of their shared room, their 'nest'. ultimately: a space untouched by pain. ]
[Today Neuvillette will find a small gift addressed to him. The box contains a cute fruit jelly and crispy heart shaped cookies. A note is attached on the side.]
I heard that today is something called the Valentine's Day and you're supposed to gift people you cherish something sweet. I made some cookies and a jelly and I hope you'll enjoy them!
forward dated to 12/4; call then action? already CWs for super moon shenanigans and debauchery
so, to avoid a repeat of last month’s chaos, wriothesley figures it would be better to rely on a bit of imprinting to keep the frenzy at bay. though truth be told, he doesn’t have a long list of imprints he’d trust to keep both the situation—and himself—contained, especially if what that odd stranger said about his scent hitting a fever pitch turns out to be true this time around as well. still, calling on someone is infinitely better than roaming the streets late night again and fighting the pull to completely shift or let certain instincts bleed through in his more human form.
and after carefully—painfully—weighing his limited options, wriothesley settles on reaching out to potentially the only person calm enough to handle it all. it’s not ideal to spring it on neuvillette the day of, but at least it’s still early enough in the day for the other to consider... and for wriothesley to plan accordingly if he really is left with no one to fall back on. ]
Good morning, Neuvillette. Hopefully I caught you at a good time?
[ his cadence carries the usual drawl, but there's no mistaking the edge of exasperation in his tone—less out of irritation and more from trying to quell the strange heat sparking somewhere in his chest. ]
YES ABSOLUTELY
Ah, Wriothesley. Hello.
( simply remarkable. he lifts the device from his ear briefly, inspecting it before putting it back to his ear again. his tone is warm, but he shifts when he picks up on that subtle thread of exasperation in his tone, tilting his head. )
You have. ( wriothesley can never catch him at a bad time: if he has, neuvillette will simply make space. ) Is something the matter?
YOURE BARELY 24 HRS INTO THIS GAME AND WE'RE ALREADY HERE
which makes thinking up an equally ‘normal’ response a touch harder, though it gives him something to focus on. there’s no need to dress it up too much, so he lets out a short, barked laugh before continuing. ]
Truth be told, I'm sort of at a loss for how to word it all—but try and bear with me for a moment.
[ there's a low hum on his end. ]
Our last conversation. At the Valentia, when we talked about the changes with my soul. Well, what’s bound to happen tonight is... definitely one of them.
NO REGRETS
to hear the duke's admission of being at a loss is a novel thing, too; the man is shrewd and quick on his feet, but perhaps the entire experience of being trapped within karteria brings with it a host of new issues they haven't yet foreseen. neuvillette dreads having to experience the eventuality of it for himself, and appreciates the courage it takes for the wriothesley to admit that he needs help. )
Of course. ( he says, because that why he sounds like that, like he's readying himself for a difficult conversation. he shifts, his own concern for him overriding everything else. ) How may I help?
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the real cw: old man yaoi starts here
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🎀 thnx for the practice bromie MWUAH
12/18; kitchen table
nevertheless, when neuvillette wakes and goes through the motions of his morning routine, he’ll find the kitchen table modestly adorned with several items. namely: a small floral arrangement, a folded quilt, and a nearly matching quilted robe (matching more in make than in design, given the fleur-de-lis top-stitching on the former), and a small jewelry box containing cufflinks.
a low whistle hums from the kettle, with the stove set to a small flame to keep the water warm and the kitchen gently heated. but above all else is a decorated card, marked by a familiar scrawl: ]
Good morning, and happy birthday, Neuvillette.
It seems most of my efforts were outshined by the sudden appearance of some of your clothing from home, but it never hurts to have more of a good thing, does it? But before you get too comfortable breaking in the new quilt and robe, though, you’ve got an appointment at Hé Huā this morning for a bit of R&R.
Admittedly, I may have embellished a few of your 'symptoms,’ but I’d argue the work you’ve been putting in during our evenings more than warrants the treatments offered. So take full advantage of them—for the both of us—and let me know how it goes.
The weather hasn't been particularly cooperative, and the sun only makes brief appearances, but I’ve arranged a small get-together this evening with Aether and Miss Navia at the former’s apartment. You’ll have to make the trek, unfortunately, since we’ll all be cooking up until you arrive—but you know how to reach us if you’d like to come by earlier.
Have a wonderful day, Neuvillette. We're all looking forward to seeing you tonight.
— Wriothesley
12/18, before the party
I know Wriothesley must have mentioned the small get-together we're having, but I wanted to wish you a very happy birthday on my own before I start cooking. I'm in charge of desserts, obviously, and while we may not be in Fontaine, I am going to try and bring the Hotel Debord's great dessert selection to you! While I may not be as good as Chef Escoffier, I have picked up a few tips from her!
I only hope that we can all make your birthday a nice ray of sunshine while we're here.
- Navia ♥
18/12, the invitation + action
The letter itself is quite simple:]
Happy birthday!
In this special day, the stars send you all the well wishes! We may have found ourselves in a difficult world to be in, but that doesn't mean we can't enjoy our time here.
And speaking of! I hope you will accept this little invitation for a birthday party! Location: my apartment. Please feel yourself at home when you're there!
The gathering will be small, with myself, Wriothesley and Navia. We hope you'll enjoy it and we can't wait to see you soon!
-Aether
-------
[Once Neuvillette will reach the apartment for their little gathering, Aether will eagerly open the door for him and usher him inside. The air is full of delicious smells from various dishes prepared by the trio and the traveler is grinning bright, awaiting the Iudex's reaction.]
I hope you didn't get too cold... If so, we'll make sure to warm you up!
[If needed, Aether has a blanket waiting on the couch, just in case their friend needed it. The traveler leads Neuvillette towards Navia and Wriothesley, then leaves for a moment to grab a small box and gift it to the Hydro Dragon.]
And here's a little something from me. It's nothing special, but I hope it'll be useful, especially now.
[Inside, Neuvillette will find a a blue and white scarf, soft to the touch and warm.]
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Her gift box was a little larger, wrapped in a gold bow. Inside, a blue glass chess set, which honestly reminded her of the waters back home. She thought of him the moment she saw it. ]
Me next! Now, with it being so cold, I know we're spending time indoors. This is so you'll have something to keep you occupied.
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he accepts the warm scarf and the beautiful glass chess set (blue as the waters of fontaine) with surprise, delight, and no small amount of gratitude — truly, he had not expected such thoughtful gifts on top of this dinner they have clearly worked hard at preparing for him. how wonderful, to be amidst such friends and enjoy their company, and oh, that cake is indeed familiar!
eyes bright and smile warm, neuvillette actually looks very, very happy, taking in everything and clearly being unable to help but step closer to them both, nodding at wriothesley to acknowledge him as well. )
Thank you, truly. Aether, Navia, Wriothesley... you have gone to great trouble on such a day, and I am truly grateful for your thoughtfulness. These gifts are special to me, as is all the work you have put in. Have you all spent the whole day working on this?
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forward dated to 1/3; immediate cw for more old man yaois
▌ cw: jan 3 supermoon, wolf moon, and start of breeding months "No! No! No!" - berleezy, 2022
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at least, when they aren't busy defiling the bed and having to launder fresh sheets every time.
this night, neuvillette sleeps deeply, an arm wrapped possessively around wriothesley and his face tucked into the crook of his shoulder. when wriothesley moves, restless and squirming, he exhales and loosens his grip, still caught up in sleep and unfortunately unmindful of the younger man's distress. he barely hears him call his name, but that warm tongue, hungry and eager, begins to stir him into burgeoning wakefulness.
the process is slow, but steady, and when his beloved pleads for him so sweetly and moans, as if swept up in something that neuvillette has no comprehension of, neuvillette blinks sleepily, his hand coming to curl in his hair, massaging an ear to soothe him. )
Wriothesley, darling — ( is he rutting against him? his sleep-fogged voice is thick, almost slurring, but neuvillette is blinking, a touch more concerned than tired. his other hand comes down to rest on his waist, rolling his hips lightly to indulge, but nonetheless confused. he would've enjoyed this, if not for the distress that's rolling off of the other. ) what's the matter?
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he’s still trying to hold on to softness when neuvillette rouses slowly beside him. the quiet sighs, the way the other's fingers graze over his ears—none of it truly helps in soothing him. if anything, it only fans the burn and sharpens the edge of his want. but it’s the way neuvillette breathes out his name, still softened by the last dredges of sleep, that does him in completely. wriothesley presses closer, burying himself in the other's arms—not just to steal the comfort, but to grind in deeper, to give in to what his body’s already decided. his kisses grow hungrier, scenting more desperate, as the heat of his cock presses shamelessly against neuvillette’s hip. and he lets the full weight of his body settle over neuvillette, pinning him down with quiet intent.
there’s a flash of teeth, a low huff of a laugh, and when wriothesley finally speaks, his voice curls warm and unhurried by neuvillette’s ear. ]
There you are.
[ there’s no further warning before his hand slips down, fevered and single-minded. he shoves beneath neuvillette’s waistband, fisting both cocks in one rough grip. his moan spills out low by neuvillette’s temple, breath shivering as he nuzzles in close, smearing his scent alongside the precum already slicking both lengths. neuvillette is still blessedly cool—just enough for wriothesley to drag some measure of relief from their closeness, even if it’s a losing game. the more contact they share, the more heat pours off him, cloaking them both in the weight of it. and still, being surrounded by neuvillette in all the ways that matter feels right. it feels like survival. ]
Keep up with me, would you? Just this once.
[ the words come slurred with heat—delirious ramblings that barely string together his usual clarity. but the way his hand works faster now, coaxing, is deliberate. if he’s lucid enough to say anything at all, it’s only to signal neuvillette for the usual hydro slick. and then he’s already moving, already gone—stripping his briefs in one breath, tugging neuvillette's draconic cocks free with the next. in a few slow, fevered beats, he straddles him.
the winter sky hangs low behind his shoulders, pale light from the balcony windows pouring over him. the solstice dimness makes the moon look closer than it should, like it’s watching. and under its glow, wriothesley’s eyes catch dark—blown wide, glassy with need. when he leans forward, the angles of his face are drawn with something hungrier than usual. something that almost looks like surrender.
his breath catches as he grinds back against neuvillette’s groin. there’s a stuttering gasp, a half-snarl of focus as he finds the angle, seats neuvillette’s slimmer, top-most cock between his cheeks, and sinks down slow. there’s no ceremony to it nor words. just the low hiss that breaks from his lips as the initial stretch burns him open. some spit on his palm helps a little, but not enough; as he works it down over the rest of the length he hasn’t taken in yet, bracing, then drops another few inches in a slow shudder.
it’s rare—this look on his face. something naked in the way his brow furrows and his mouth parts around another moan. wriothesley’s rarely this desperate and hardly this willing to outright take or demand. but this morning, he looks every bit the creature he tries to hold back: flushed, greedy, focused only on being filled. and he doesn’t stop moving until he’s stuffed full, hips rocking with dogged intent to take all that neuvillette has to give. ]
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neuvillette doesn't question him when the puzzle clicks together into a visual, but he frowns in open concern, startled when his lover sinks down onto his cock without so much as a by-your-leave, scant lubricant. even neuvillette's smaller cock isn't small by any means, and he reaches up to tangle his hand in his hair, cradling the back of his head to pull him down tenderly.
he's here. he's here, dearest. and he will give him everything that he wants. in the sea of wriothesley's desperate need is the certainty of neuvillette's affection, the depth of his love and the awakening primal instincts of his dragonhood. he makes a soft, rumbling sound in response to wriothesley's fierce need, and he flips him onto his back in a swift move. wresting control back from him smoothly, he pulls out of him to push two hydro-slick fingers into him, grinding his cocks against his firmly while he fucks him open.
it won't do for him to hurt himself in his desperation to sate the beast of instinct that roars for completion. he aches to soothe him, feeling the same echo of that desperation in a different way — no, this is his partner, the other half of himself, and neuvillette is needed.
he kisses him deeply, swallowing all words, before he pulls his fingers out and drives the larger cock in unceremoniously, wanting wriothesley to feel it, all of it, every inch of his cock, thick and throbbing and long, sinking deep into him. he's forcing those walls to accommodate him anew, a hand closing around the base of wriothesley's cock to coax out his knot.
against the fever of wriothesley's need, neuvillette's words are calm. commanding. wriothesley is his to have and sate, no other. )
I have you, mon chere. Give yourself to me.
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mid january!
I was wondering if you'd like to join me for some tea or a walk? Tea would be at my apartment, where it is beautifully warm. The walk would be outside, but that can't be faulted.
Please let me know at your earliest convenience.
- Navia ♥
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I am delighted to receive your invitation. Yes, I would very much enjoy tea with you. allow me to purchase your favorite sweets to pair with your tea. The cold will, unfortunately, not be kind to either of us.
- Neuvillette
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What day would be better for you? I'll work around your schedule.
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crispy baby time
Bad news is, I ran into some Katalyth on the way home — quite literally, as you’ll see.
Good news: A friend’s dropping me off. I’ll be at the door in just a moment.
his baby!!!
wriothesley is not someone who will rely on anyone to send him home if he can help it, and clearly, he can't. for the first time in a long while, he feels alarmed, on alert, and incredibly worried. )
I'm here.
is he a baked bean or burnt toast
nevertheless, trying to shoo away aodh after arriving is an obstacle only solved by a rather reckless promise he’ll end up regretting, especially while talking neuvillette through another one of his missteps. after that, it's a bit of shambling to make his way up to their home, and with some struggle in trying to turn the knob of the front door with his usual hand out of habit—he’s long past the point of registering pain when he realizes he’s been trying to use his injured hand.
fingers fail to grip as he maneuvers his other hand to take over the motion, trying to at least steady and compose as much of himself as he can before stepping into the threshold of their home.
the sight neuvillette is greeted to isn’t too concerning, at least in the moment, since his usual overcoat does a decent job hiding most of his frame. but soon enough, the damage becomes obvious once he lets the only piece of clothing left after fully shifting drop to the ground. muscles have grown back over bone, and the bulk of his wounds have only the thinnest layer of skin—which is a good sign, judging from the dried blood around every mismatched patch of fresh scar tissue. the usual marks at his throat pale in comparison to the look of burned flesh that runs down the length of his entire right side.
either he’d hedged his bets correctly in having a hardy natural soul, or meaningfully imprinting with aodh helped immensely in keeping him alive up until now—if only by a thread. nevertheless, he steps forward to meet neuvillette halfway before allowing himself to lean on the other man when they meet. the voice that follows sounds as battered as he looks, but he behaves beneath every worried touch. ]
I think it's starting to look better.
[ it’s less of a dark joke and more of a serious observation—he’s just a little emotionally flattened from the pain. ]
he is a chickie nuggie!
cw: let wrio cook here ok haha get it cuz he's heating up in more ways than one
he IS cooking here omg nugget
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cw: injuries etc
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post-everyone bully wrio for being a lil shounen protag (despair-induced mid life crisis?)
and while it's hard to make spoken promises of prudence in a place like karteria, wriothesley admits easily enough to exercising far more caution moving forward. if only to spare everyone, and above all neuvillette, from worrying themselves sick or find themselves tangled in more corruption in looking after him.
so when wriothesley waves off the last of their sudden guests, largely by walking them to the front gate, he turns to face neuvillette with a rueful smile. tired and still mangled, but overall faring better. he lumbers his way back toward their front door, and the first real emotion he shares between them alone is one of wavering relief. for a split second—an instinct borne of his own sordid upbringing—he seems to steel himself for a real reprimand.. whether with cutting words or something a little more tactile. ]
So, any suggestions on what we do next? [ there's a pause as he steps into the threshold of their home and hovers close. almost bracing himself for any sort of reaction, response, or retort. ] Cleaning is mostly taken care of, thanks to everyone, but then there's dinner to think of still.. and I'm going to assume there's a nice, long heart-to-heart somewhere in there.
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wriothesley, it seems, needs even more time to recover. neuvillette can see it in the way he is more cautious, shedding his usual prowling grace for care. he looks rather the rough for wear, too, fraying at the edges when when seeing their friends off, and neuvillette can't blame him. it is a lot to digest all at once, to know the days you've lost when you have gone under for your own sanity. the agony that neuvillette has known in the past few days has dissipated, and his own healing had done the rest, leaving only bone-deep exhaustion that he sets aside for wriothesley's sake.
the tired, rueful smile he wears is a blessing, too, and neuvillette can't help but offer one in return, twitching lightly at the corners. if the duke expects a reprimand, he will find nothing of the sort; only relief that he has returned, un-tormented by his soul's healing abilities. neuvillette sets the near-decimated first aid kit aside, and makes a note to purchase new supplies, but that is not important now. what matters is that inevitable need for recalibration and a talk: a way to decompress and put to rest everything that has happened in the past week. the choices he had to make, all the truths wriothesley now has to face.
a part of him feels trepidation: had he made the right decisions for wriothesley? and this newfound, strange... connection between them, nascent and unexpected, redefining how they are to relate to each other. he feels the relief like his own and yet not, and he doesn't know what to think of it. what does he do with this, does wriothesley like it?
he stays close to him nonetheless, reaching out lightly to straighten the collar of his shirt. in the face of all the thing they have to address, he sorts out the easiest one first: )
I will heat up the leftovers in the fridge. Shall we speak as we dine? You will need to keep your strength up as you continue to heal.
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it becomes harder to ignore once he notices the rough condition of neuvillette's hand: red and dry from tending to his wounds for days, with lingering traces of corruption from maintaining touch even as wriothesley's soul lashed out at the other in delirium. there's even a faint tremble from the iudex's hand that he can still feel through the fabric, likely from exhaustion and witnessing the same trauma they now share. even so, wriothesley holds himself steady for them both as he closes the front door behind them and leads the way to the kitchen. ]
I could go for one of the soups our friends have made. But really, I wouldn’t complain even if supper were just bouillon à la tasse.
[ while he knows neuvillette typically prefers soups and consommés served in proper tableware, wriothesley suspects the other might sense his desire for something simpler—something pacifying, even. amidst the haze of dulled emotions and the mental blocks he puts up between the pair bond, there's still a quiet longing for the sort of comfort that comes from sipping broth from a mug. something nostalgic and grounding. ]
That way, dinner and our talk won’t be such a hassle while we’re in bed. [ their conversation will be heavy, without question, and the last thing wriothesley wants is for it to taint their appetite or burden what should be a moment of peace. even as he suggests it, he’s keenly aware of how the idea might be taken, and quickly softens the implication. ] I promise it’s more about wanting a change of scenery for us than anything untoward.
[ he has no desire to spend another night in the parlor room. even though it's been scrubbed clean—free of all the viscera that nearly soaked through the baseboard moulding and up the walls—the room remains soured to him in more ways than one. it’s where old memories stirred, drawn up from the dark corners of orphanage halls, and where the echoes of blood and failure clung no matter how hard they all worked to mask it. what he wants now is simple and plainly familiar to them both. and he almost pleads for it in his emotions, silently—just the comfort of their shared room, their 'nest'. ultimately: a space untouched by pain. ]
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Valentine's Day
I heard that today is something called the Valentine's Day and you're supposed to gift people you cherish something sweet. I made some cookies and a jelly and I hope you'll enjoy them!
Aether