[ 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.
[ 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. ]
▌ 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. ]
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. )
[ 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.
[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!
Aether
i write sins and this awful travesty (4 u)- depression! at the disco
[ something is drifting.
it slides through the back of wriothesley’s mind like a warm current and he feels it long before he understands it: a swelling pressure rising and falling in steady waves. where each pull drags him further from the surface of himself. he’s vaguely aware that his breathing no longer matches the rhythm he thinks he’s keeping; his chest lifts a touch too late, falls too early, as though someone else has taken over the timing for him.
the sheets beneath him feel strangely unreal—cool and damp in patches, then warm in others, almost like flushed skin. wriothesley’s fingers twitch against the sensation, not so much grasping for the sheets as remembering how to feel them again. each movement arrives a fraction too late, as though his thoughts have to wade through thick fog before reaching his muscles.
then a low sound resonates through him and for a moment he mistakes it for his own pulse. until it deepens—threading into a purr wriothesley knows far too well by now.
“wriothesley,” neuvillette says, gentle and steady, his own name spoken like a hand offered through the haze.
he tries to answer, but his mouth feels full of something thick and sweet that melts around the edges of a word before it can form. his lips part anyway, and what slips out is little more than a sound—thin, breathy, needy in a way he certainly didn’t intend. only then does wriothesley remember to blink. tears have pooled and half-dried along his lashes, leaving them clumped and tangled. as his focus returns, wriothesley realizes the exquisite taste lingering on his tongue is a mix of their spend, gathered onto neuvillette’s fingers and pushed into his mouth at the peak of his last orgasm. now he can only moan weakly around the spit-soaked digits while neuvillette shushes him and gently withdraws them, licked clean albeit faintly wrinkled.
it’s a mess of a scene as wriothesley drifts back from whatever depths neuvillette managed to pull him both into and up from. an ache settles between his legs as he notices his spent, leaking cock, nearly hidden beneath the swell of his navel, with a thin ribbon of cum still dribbling out amid the evidence of their earlier rounds. meanwhile his wolf tail barely twitches, weighed down by the damp filth soaking through the fur there—or perhaps by the hazy state of mind the two of them sometimes coax him into on slower nights.
only belatedly does it occur to him that he must have climaxed while riding neuvillette’s cocks. and the realization shows in the way neuvillette looks up at him now: pupils blown wide, gaze slitted, lips parted around uneven breaths. his normally impeccable hair is mussed, with damp strands clinging to his cheek while others frame the scales and lithe muscle across his chest as it rises and falls unevenly. a scaled hand comes to brush over the slight distention of wriothesley’s belly.
wriothesley mirrors the motion, though his hand finds little more than sheets, hair, and flushed skin as he reaches blindly for something to steady himself.
between them, the bond hums—and from wriothesley’s side it feels like the flood of his whole being slipping through his ribs to meld with neuvillette’s until their bliss becomes one and the same. it spills through the tether in soft pulses where his voice should be, because all he can manage are quiet, ruined little sounds where neuvillette’s name ought to be. ]
( his wriothesley is lost. lost within the extended boundaries of their lovemaking, the riptide of their mutual desires and neuvillette's burgeoning, quiet domination, drawing forth wriothesley's submission and guiding him to open up and trust, to cast his thoughts and care aside and to feel and experience everything that the iudex can offer him.
and he has succeeded a little too well at this, when he leads him into his third (fourth?) orgasm, wringing thick streaks of cum from him while neuvillette buries his own seed deep inside his yielding body. the thick coil of pleasure embraces them both, but neuvillette retains his awareness, anchoring them both to this moment. he calls his name softly, gently, and feels... pleasant, set afloat. a blissful, glorious warmth and oblivion of complete surrender.
his. wriothesley is now all his.
he nuzzles him then, pleased by the gift of wriothesley's complete trust. it is a precious thing, fragile like butterfly wings and yet endlessly beautiful, and he grasps his hands to draw it back to himself. hold on to him, dearest, and he will see you through.
neuvillette croons soft praise in their native tongue, reverent and affectionate. he moves slowly this time, massaging the distension of his belly in deliberate circles, reminding him of just who he belongs to. he leans down to kiss him deeply, right before he pulls out of him, masking the abrupt emptiness with firm manhandling, urging him onto his hands and knees.
easy. easy, he has you. neuvillette trails kisses and soft licks from nape down the curve of his spine, right to the small of his back, before he's spreading his asscheeks to let all of that cum ooze out of his hole and down, down his ballsac and thighs to the mattress. )
What a mess you've made.
( is all he says before his tongue slides right into that hole, lapping the rest out of him and soothing that tight, tight channel. )
[ wriothesley's emotions go from an unnaturally dead calm as he'd been beckoned by the katalyth growth to reach out, before sinking into something close to obvious and unabashed apathy when he and neuvillette find themselves standing at the end of a hallway drenched in moonlight. it's a manor typical of the courts, and almost eerily silent in the dead of night, if it weren't for the glow of a lamp at the end of the hall and the hushed breathing of a third presence between them both.
wriothesley doesn't have to look to know that this particular scene is a memory he'd long since buried beneath the weight of his sins once he'd found his own purpose and salvation. however, it seems the katalyth is keen on bringing perhaps the most fitting and ironic witness to see the whole truth he'd embellished on the stage of the opera epiclese all those decades ago.
soon enough, wriothesley's nerves steel themselves as his emotions seem to do the same, and his first motion is to lift a hand to graze the tips of his fingers along the threshold between the foyer and hallway as his younger self resolves to take his first cautious step forward. small and scrawny fists clench inside a wholly rudimentary version of his usual mechanized gauntlets, cobbled together with spare mechanical parts and old gears, along with a worrying compartment full of nails above each knuckle.
wriothesley himself doesn't try to be discreet about his own movements, not in the way he moves ahead of everyone while still keeping his touch to the wall before walking toward the light. fear seems to manifest a plethora of indescribable emotions and reactions, and wriothesley isn't always immune to his own brand of recklessness in the face of it, especially in the way he seeks to move about the space in a detached manner while he leaves neuvillette behind with his younger self.
the younger wriothesley remains silent as well, albeit for other reasons that are soon clear as he squares his shoulders and slowly starts down the carpeted hall with his hands concealed behind his back. ]
( neuvillette remains quiet, taking in the entirety of the tableau before him. how strange it is that a rock from this world can pull out memories just like this, submerging them in the scene. that wriothesley has once again touched the katalyth is not lost on him, but at least... well, at least this time the consequences of it is a little less painful.
he can't take his eyes off the younger wriothesley. small, scrawny, starved but determined. on the edge of death and yet moving with incredible purpose that should have belonged to those much older and sturdier. but wriothesley is born into the world that did not want him, and he ended up carving a space for himself in the upper echelons of society. through sheer strength of will, the duke clawed his way up from the depths to become one of the most powerful people in fontaine.
neuvillette has almost forgotten how close wriothesley had been to dying. the sight of young wriothesley makes him ache, and he follows after the boy, keeping an eye on his wriothesley, who seems to dislike the event that unfolds. soon enough, it dawns on him. )
[ it's not the first time navia's been called by the katalyth to touch it. the first was with wriothesley, and they both shared the intimate moment of navia's coming of age birthday party and receiving her vision from the lord of geo. it's with great luck that she's gotten neuvillette to come out this second time.
this time, however, she was not greeted with a happy memory. in fact, it was a moment that both of them had shared in person. from neuvillette's perspective, just minutes before he arrived. it was within those ancient ruins just to the south of poisson that they found themselves in, and the scene before them is set as the traveler, paimon, and navia run across that crumbling bridge as it starts to fall. navia's boot slips on a rock just detaching and cries out as she starts to fall. the traveler shouts for her, and they both go tumbling over the edge. aether's fingers barely touch hers as she slips farther and farther away, until she hits the surface of the primordial sea water.
navia herself shivers as she starts walking forward, remembering how it felt the moment she touched that water. it tingled, like the bubbles in a fresh fonta. the air around them blurs, and they're both treated to what navia saw as her body started to dissolve: her eyes open, and it's like they're underwater, and melus and silver are there to greet navia as she awakens.
( people should really stop touching katalyths, nothing good will ever come out of it. but neuvillette supposes that sometimes there really is no choice, and he is grateful that he's here with her, if the worst is to happen.
perhaps one might seek out happier consequences, because the scene that is laid before them is both familiar and heartwrenching. he knows this scene, remembers the anxiety he had felt when she sank into the water's depths, vulnerable and seconds away from dissolution.
when navia puts her hand on his, neuvillette rests his own atop hers, eyes fixed on melus and silver, her most deeply devoted and loyal bodyguards. neuvillette looks to navia, gently squeezing her hand. is she all right? )
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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
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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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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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🎀
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
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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🎀😘
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
i write sins and this awful travesty (4 u)- depression! at the disco
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and he has succeeded a little too well at this, when he leads him into his third (fourth?) orgasm, wringing thick streaks of cum from him while neuvillette buries his own seed deep inside his yielding body. the thick coil of pleasure embraces them both, but neuvillette retains his awareness, anchoring them both to this moment. he calls his name softly, gently, and feels... pleasant, set afloat. a blissful, glorious warmth and oblivion of complete surrender.
his. wriothesley is now all his.
he nuzzles him then, pleased by the gift of wriothesley's complete trust. it is a precious thing, fragile like butterfly wings and yet endlessly beautiful, and he grasps his hands to draw it back to himself. hold on to him, dearest, and he will see you through.
neuvillette croons soft praise in their native tongue, reverent and affectionate. he moves slowly this time, massaging the distension of his belly in deliberate circles, reminding him of just who he belongs to. he leans down to kiss him deeply, right before he pulls out of him, masking the abrupt emptiness with firm manhandling, urging him onto his hands and knees.
easy. easy, he has you. neuvillette trails kisses and soft licks from nape down the curve of his spine, right to the small of his back, before he's spreading his asscheeks to let all of that cum ooze out of his hole and down, down his ballsac and thighs to the mattress. )
What a mess you've made.
( is all he says before his tongue slides right into that hole, lapping the rest out of him and soothing that tight, tight channel. )
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memshare event cw: weird murder vibes
wriothesley doesn't have to look to know that this particular scene is a memory he'd long since buried beneath the weight of his sins once he'd found his own purpose and salvation. however, it seems the katalyth is keen on bringing perhaps the most fitting and ironic witness to see the whole truth he'd embellished on the stage of the opera epiclese all those decades ago.
soon enough, wriothesley's nerves steel themselves as his emotions seem to do the same, and his first motion is to lift a hand to graze the tips of his fingers along the threshold between the foyer and hallway as his younger self resolves to take his first cautious step forward. small and scrawny fists clench inside a wholly rudimentary version of his usual mechanized gauntlets, cobbled together with spare mechanical parts and old gears, along with a worrying compartment full of nails above each knuckle.
wriothesley himself doesn't try to be discreet about his own movements, not in the way he moves ahead of everyone while still keeping his touch to the wall before walking toward the light. fear seems to manifest a plethora of indescribable emotions and reactions, and wriothesley isn't always immune to his own brand of recklessness in the face of it, especially in the way he seeks to move about the space in a detached manner while he leaves neuvillette behind with his younger self.
the younger wriothesley remains silent as well, albeit for other reasons that are soon clear as he squares his shoulders and slowly starts down the carpeted hall with his hands concealed behind his back. ]
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he can't take his eyes off the younger wriothesley. small, scrawny, starved but determined. on the edge of death and yet moving with incredible purpose that should have belonged to those much older and sturdier. but wriothesley is born into the world that did not want him, and he ended up carving a space for himself in the upper echelons of society. through sheer strength of will, the duke clawed his way up from the depths to become one of the most powerful people in fontaine.
neuvillette has almost forgotten how close wriothesley had been to dying. the sight of young wriothesley makes him ache, and he follows after the boy, keeping an eye on his wriothesley, who seems to dislike the event that unfolds. soon enough, it dawns on him. )
This is...
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memeshare; cw: sadness. just sadness.
this time, however, she was not greeted with a happy memory. in fact, it was a moment that both of them had shared in person. from neuvillette's perspective, just minutes before he arrived. it was within those ancient ruins just to the south of poisson that they found themselves in, and the scene before them is set as the traveler, paimon, and navia run across that crumbling bridge as it starts to fall. navia's boot slips on a rock just detaching and cries out as she starts to fall. the traveler shouts for her, and they both go tumbling over the edge. aether's fingers barely touch hers as she slips farther and farther away, until she hits the surface of the primordial sea water.
navia herself shivers as she starts walking forward, remembering how it felt the moment she touched that water. it tingled, like the bubbles in a fresh fonta. the air around them blurs, and they're both treated to what navia saw as her body started to dissolve: her eyes open, and it's like they're underwater, and melus and silver are there to greet navia as she awakens.
navia's hand goes to neuvillette's arm. ]
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perhaps one might seek out happier consequences, because the scene that is laid before them is both familiar and heartwrenching. he knows this scene, remembers the anxiety he had felt when she sank into the water's depths, vulnerable and seconds away from dissolution.
when navia puts her hand on his, neuvillette rests his own atop hers, eyes fixed on melus and silver, her most deeply devoted and loyal bodyguards. neuvillette looks to navia, gently squeezing her hand. is she all right? )
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