Tamithesley/Wriotami CEO

20+ || they/them || selfship blog (non-sharing) NO DMS! Banner drawing edit and OC by me. DNI romantic Wriolette/Wrioney accounts, and doubles

[wriothesleyfan69]

⤷ ゛intro post ˎˊ˗

I never ever postedon tumblr I have no idea how anything works there </3

꒰ ♡ hello !! ꒱ I'm Tami, I'm a Wriothesley selfshipper (non-sharing) and I've been mostly using this account to read selfship fanfics of my beloved ! I'm over 20, I'm genderfluid and usually go by they/them(/she/he) I'm french so I apologise if my english isn't always perfect! I don't plan on being very active here, maybe that will change in the future. also unrelated, but I like WrioKaveh (racer!Wrio and mechanic!Kaveh), though I won't really mention anything about that here

────୨ৎ──── ꒰ ♡ about my ship !! ꒱ my S/I is Tami, and they currently exists as Manekina in game! Our ship name is WolfMoon, but for simplicity's sake I'm going to refer to it as WrioTami, and sometimes Tamithesley. I have a whole carrd dedicated to it, if you are curious! I am non-sharing for my own comfort, that ship is what I use to cope and handle anxiety! If you are a double, you are valid! I just don't have it in me to interact with others right now!

♡ my ship tags if you wish to block: #wriotami #tamithesley

────୨ৎ──── ꒰ ♡ boundaries !! ꒱ ♥︎ I am not comfortable with (romantic) Wrioney and Wriolette shippers. For the latter, I see Neuvillette as a father figure to Wriothesley because of Wrio's backstory, and Sigewinne as his big sister and I really love the family dynamic, so the romance makes me very uncomfortable.

♥︎ I'm also not comfortable with too many interactions with minors, as I am an adult!

♥︎ Please do not ask if we can be friends, friendships come naturally depending on our affinity, and my current friend circle is big enough for me. Maybe we can eventually be friends, but only time will tell :)

[it-happened-one-fic]

Meet You There - 17. A Thousand Emotions

Summary: There were a million and one things you could have expected from your conversation with Wriothesley, but you weren’t sure you could have ever been prepared for what you learned. And in the face of that  painful truth he shared with you, your words failed you. Leaving you to flounder as you tried to respond.

Type: Female Reader/ sfw/ second chance romance/ somewhat slow burn/ romance/ fluff/ angst with comfort/ pining/ some drama/ includes platonic interactions

TW: Gang Violence (only explicit in one, later, chapter), one mention of death

Word Count: 2429

Meet You There Master-List

Despite what I’d thought last night, today had come all too quickly. And while I usually looked forward to spending time with Wriothesley, I couldn’t entirely say that was the case this time.

Still, I practically leapt to my feet when the doorbell rang. Earning me glances from both Alhaitham and Kaveh who’d been sitting with me all this time in silent support. After all, I’d ended up telling them what had happened last night. There hadn’t been much of a way for me to get out of that considering the interrogation that had occurred the moment I’d got back and they’d taken a look at my expression.

I awkwardly bade them farewell before Kaveh could have a chance to feed me anymore, ‘It’ll all work out’s or anything of that sort.

He meant well, of course, but there was also only so much a person could take. Something I was reasonably certain Alhaitham recognized judging from the looks he’d been giving Kaveh.

But, in truth, it was hardly any better when I got outside. 

In fact, it might even be worse.

Things were still awkward at best between Wriothesley and I. And while that was understandable, that realization didn’t really help the current situation. Especially since I had a feeling that this wasn’t a conversation either of us had been looking forward too.

He held up a hand, managing a tired smile as he broke the weighty silence that hung over us, “Hey.”

I bobbed my head, smiling tiredly in return as I echoed his greeting. Genuine, if weak, amusement creeping into my tone even despite the situation, “Hey.”

The corners of Wriothesley’s lips twitched up just a fraction higher at my tone before he gestured to the side, “Do you remember that park we used to meet at during semesters when our classes didn’t line up?”

I nodded, feeling my smile spread wryly at his words, “Of course I do. How could I not after how much time we ended up spending there?”

He nodded in agreement, and a small part of me wondered if he was thinking about those afternoons we’d spent together. Often not leaving until it started getting later in the day, with the light fading and essentially forcing us to move along. We’d talked about almost everything under the sun there. Usually laughing and picking on each other.

Though there would be those moments where comfortable silence would dominate the old playground in the center of the park as we would simply exist peacefully in each other's presence. As if nothing else mattered.

“I thought it might be fitting to talk there. For old time’s sake, if nothing else.” I felt my smile, slight though it had already been, falter at his words. Not liking the somber undertone in his voice at all.

It only seemed to confirm my fears about how this conversation would go and what the result might be.

I stayed silent though, trailing my way along behind Wriothesley even though I knew the path just as well as he did. After all, even after he’d disappeared from my life I’d still stopped by here. 

Perhaps it had just been a habit, but I’d never been able to shake the feeling that if he did come back, I would somehow bump into him there. Ridiculous as that seemed, but perhaps I simply became a little more senseless when it came to him.

That certainly seemed to be the case in light of how long I’d put off this conversation.

I still wasn’t in any rush to reach our location, though, and something about his slow gait told me that he wasn’t either. So we walked along in silence. Neither one of us apparently feeling up to the task of breaking the weighty silence that had settled itself over us once again.

But even then, with the heavy atmosphere around us, I felt myself smile slightly as we walked up to the park.

It was nostalgic to be here, with him, again. But somehow I feared that rather than a new beginning, this could be the end of everything that I’d been desperately clinging to.

Wriothesley came to a stop and I glanced his way, watching as he tilted his head at the swing set, a wry smile flickering across his face, “I guess it might’ve gotten repainted to help with the rust, but other than that it doesn’t look like anything’s changed.”

I nodded, lifting one shoulder in a half shrug, “Some things don’t change even after time has passed and other things have changed around it.”

I paused as Wriothesley met my gaze, searching for words before I finally continued with a vague hand gesture. Breaking eye contact with him as I looked back toward the swingset, “I think that’s okay, though.”

He smiled at my awkward finish, but nodded slightly. Seemingly signifying his agreement despite how awkward I felt I had ended up sounding.

“Having a steady constant like that can be a boon. Sometimes things like that are what get us through the most difficult moments in life.”

There was a deeper meaning to his words. I had no proof, but I could feel it as I nodded my silent agreement before walking over and plopping myself defeatedly into one of the swings. 

I pushed myself idly as Wriothesley followed me, letting out a sigh as he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, “So last night… I should apologize for the way I goaded you into bringing up the rumors about me.”

I hummed in response, nodding slightly, “Thank you, but I can’t say I really blame you for pushing the matter. I have been kind of dancing around the subject.”

Wriothesley’s hand wrapped around one of the swing’s chains just above mine and he leaned over, giving me a subtly amused smile, “Hey, I’m a big boy now. I know when I’ve messed up.”

I snorted, shaking my head at his antics, “And I’m mature enough to know we both messed up. It takes two to tango after all.”

I paused, looking back forward as I felt my grip tighten on the swing’s chains. And even now, as ridiculous as it was, I was painfully aware of the short amount of distance between my hand and his.

I swallowed thickly, “Besides, I should apologize too. I can’t deny that what I’ve been hearing has been concerning.”

I had to fight the urge to grimace at the silence that followed my words. But it was true, even if it was horrible of me. All the rumors and gossip had steadily made me wonder if maybe something really had happened during the time I’d lost touch with Wriothesley.

And when he responded, his tone had lost all of its levity, “I’d be worried if you hadn’t been concerned. Because it’s true.”

I twisted, looking up at him with slightly widened eyes as his words confirmed my fears, but somehow still caught me off-guard.

He simply met my surprised and no doubt distressed expression with an apologetic smile before he shook his head slightly. And I watched as he let go of the swing and walked forward. Putting his back to me before he spoke, “Do you remember what I told you about my foster parents?”

I frowned, nodding slightly as I stood, torn between following him and staying put, “About how there was trouble and they needed help?”

He let out a hollow sounding laugh, but nodded, “I guess I should apologize about that too, because that was a lie.”

He paused and I watched him silence until he finally shook his head, his voice coming out softer this time, “Or perhaps it would be better to say I omitted the truth.”

He looked back at me with a smile I could only describe as bitter as something unpleasant flickered in those pale eyes of his, “You see, I was the issue.”

I shook my head in disturbed confusion, my gaze locked onto his as I searched his face for any explanation, “Wriothesley, I don’t understand. How were you the problem? You weren’t even living with them at that time.”

His gaze held mine, and for a moment he simply stayed silent. But then he spoke, “Bluntly put, they lost control of me.”

I outright frowned at him in utter confusion, but he continued in a flat tone, “It turned out that my parents weren’t really foster parents at all. They were taking in orphaned children, but it wasn’t to help them find families. It was to sell them.”

His words were perfectly blunt, leaving no room for misinterpretation, but I still felt myself freeze in shock before I finally managed to shake my head in horrified disbelief.

My mouth opened as if to speak, but nothing came out as my words failed me. 

But what could I say? What could I ever say in response to that?

I didn’t want to believe it, but I had no real reason not to, and I could see in his eyes he wasn’t lying. And even without that as evidence, I knew he would never lie about something like this. Even if he had changed in the time he was away, I was confident of that.

He exhaled, explaining exactly what had happened during our time apart in a dry tone that bordered on being emotionless even despite what he was saying.

“I had reached the end of my ‘sellable period’ when I went home for my visit. It turns out that all of the children who reached that age, all of my older siblings, and all of those who found out about what happened before me ‘disappeared.’ And that was what they had planned for me. Unfortunately for them, though, I found out about it before they could make sure I was handled in the same way my siblings had been.”

Something told me I knew exactly what ‘disappeared’ and ‘handled’ meant, but I didn’t say anything. I wasn’t even sure if I could, much less what I would say. So I just listened in silent horror as he continued. His tone growing more and more bitter the longer he spoke.

“I escaped and ended up living on the streets for a little while, but I knew I couldn’t leave things as they were and the officials….. Well, they wouldn’t listen. So I went back and I handled it on my own.”

He paused, meeting my gaze from where he’d looked away as he'd spoken. He swallowed, his throat visibly bobbing before he finished, “When the police got there, I’d already killed them and passed out from my injuries. When I came too in a hospital, they were already preparing for my court appointment. I pled guilty, did my time, and got out early for good behavior.”

I stared at him as he finished, feeling oddly like I was frozen in place. But I was still at a loss for words.

I’d thought I’d prepared myself for what he might say, but instead, I’d been caught wholly off-guard. And I wasn’t sure anything could have prepared me for everything he’d just told me.

It sounded like something out of a horror novel or a true crime series. Not something most people would ever encounter in day to day life, and certainly not something to expect from a long time crush.

As if acknowledging my shock, Wriothesley nodded, a tenseness still radiating from him even despite the way he held up one hand as if to stop me from saying anything, “I’m not going to try and defend my actions. That’s why I pled guilty. But I’m also not going to lie. I don’t regret what I did. I couldn’t just leave things the way they were when I knew more children… more of my siblings would suffer.”

He paused, frowning slightly as he looked my way in an almost apologetic manner, the tenseness starting to slip from his frame as he looked at me before continuing with a certain kind of strained tone sliding into his voice, “You don’t have to say anything, nor do I expect you to make any decisions immediately.”

I pressed my lips together and managed to nod, finally finding my voice again past the steadily growing lump in my throat. Though even with that, I still only managed five words which were in no way enough to respond to what he’d just told me, “Thank you for telling me.”

My voice came out soft, and a brief, though weak smile flickered across Wriothesley’s face before it faltered, “I’m sorry it took me this long to tell you. I knew I needed to explain after essentially ghosting you, but…..”

He trailed off with a shake of head before he drew himself up straighter and met my gaze directly, taking on a more direct tone, “I already called Lettie and asked him to walk you back home, so you don’t have to worry about that.”

He paused, shifting awkwardly before continuing, “We- We don’t have to talk until you’re ready. I’ll wait. If you need me, just call.”

I nodded, murmuring a ‘thank you’ again as if I were some sort of demented stuck record.

It wasn’t until Wriothesley grimaced slightly and said he had to get to work that I stepped forward and called, almost desperately after him, “Wriothesley!! Take care!”

It was possibly the most pathetic thing I could’ve come up with to say after everything he’d just told me, but he paused nonetheless. Turning to look back at me with a more genuine, if small, smile on his face as he nodded, “You too, Y/n.”

I pressed my lips almost painfully together. Not sure of what to do or say, but still filled with a vague sense of desperation as I called out to him again, “And I will get back to you! I might not know what to say right now, but I will!”

If I wasn’t horribly mistaken, he let out a half-hearted chuckle as he nodded before waving farewell and turning to go. Leaving me to sort out everything he’d just told me along with my feelings.

And maybe it was for the best that he left me there, because I certainly couldn’t think while he was standing there in front of me. Guilty of far more than having kept a few secrets or told a few lies.

And it wasn’t long after he’d disappeared that I sunk bonelessly to the ground. Trembling as a thousand emotions took over.

If you would like to read more:

Previous

Next: Coming Soon!

Taglist: @mrssylus, @the-resident-demon

[viviolettee]

⛓️ 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭.

notes: hi! this is my first big fic EVER. likes and reblogs are DEEPLY appreciated. also, all chapters are pre-released early on ao3, whether this be hours earlier or thirty minutes earlier, all chapters that are published will likely already have been on ao3. this is because my co-author publishes everything on our ao3 account and prefers to get things done as quickly as possible.

updates: hopefully every saturday, but conflicts do occur! in cases where i am aware of any possible conflicts, i will try and queue chapters as necessary. please be understanding! every update no matter the day will be at 11PM EST.

warnings: murder, death investigations, mentions of bludgeoning, mentions of violent crimes, crime scene descriptions, autopsies, forensic procedures, discussion of corpses, blood, psychological horror, paranoia, manipulation, false accusations, imprisonment, implied corruption within legal systems, grief, anxiety, depictions of trauma, and themes of predestination/fatalism. this will be updated as the fic continues. please do not read this if you are not able to handle these topics.

special thanks: @opalescentangels, aka lyssa, aka my awesome co-author, for a lot of work on this!! she can never get enough thanks for everything she does for me! also a huge thanks to @lonelykrow for helping with beta-reading and editing!! your work is appreciated SO much!!!!! and a huge thanks to everyone who reads this and supports our work <3

pairing: wriothesley x detective/investigator!reader

taglist (7/50): @chxrry-cxke , @phantomhearts65, @nekobiii , @wriothesleyfan69 , @pjselee , @wriolos , @lunastarjay // send in an ask or comment to be added!

read on ao3.

prologue.

chapter one.

chapter two.

[ajwamiju-archives]

Thinking about Wriothesley and his biological parents and what I hc of them. Pls do brain rot this with me, I kinda wanna hear what everyone thinks of this topic.

Spoilers for his lore under the cut!!

I may have forgotten some details but I just had a thought, what if Wriothesley's biological parents were actually decent people who just couldn't take care of him?

Wriothesley mentioned that he doesn't know his origins, like he doesn't know if he's even Fontainian and even tried using the Primordial Sea Water to test the theory out and was confirmed to have at least some Fontaine blood (iirc). So if Fontainians had to pray to the Fountain of Lucine for a child, wouldn't that mean at some point, his biological parents or at least one of them actually prayed for his existence?

We can prob hc a LOT of possibilities, but I think I'm going with the single + dead parent route. One parent died near his actual birth and his other parent, mentally, emotionally, and maybe even financially unequipped to take care of a baby alone, had to abandon him. (According to the accounting ledger of his host family, he had been taken in as an abandoned infant [Character story 3]

He didn't particularly like it, but he no longer wished to use the one his foster parents had given him. [Character story 4]), and expected him to have at least a decent life. I don't condone just abandoning a whole child, but I can understand to a certain degree that people might not think too straight under immense pressure and stress.

The living parent could possibly regret that decision and even tried to contact him and see him for the first decade ish of his life, but his foster parents being, well, his foster parents, blocked all access to them and they gave up thinking Wriothesley already hates them for abandoning him when he was a baby (understandable).

Imagine if they only found out what happened to their precious son during his trial. They bought a ticket to watch the trial, maybe even believing in their heart that the murders were an accident.

But then Wriothesley just... admitted to first degree murder like that and was sent to prison. Last they heard, Wriothesley should have finished serving his sentence so they're trying to locate him, maybe give him some love he desperately deserved that his foster parents weren't willing to give him and love that his biological parent failed to give him the first time, not knowing Wriothesley chose to stay in the fortress. (Thanks to this state of affairs, Wriothesley has been able to lead a secluded and private existence, living and traveling in Fontaine in a manner quite unbefitting of his status as the "Duke."

Indeed, even as pedestrians are saying things like "fool around any further, and I'll punch you straight into the Fortress of Meropide," or "this job is garbage, I'd rather be tightening screws at the bottom of the sea," this administrator of said underwater fortress might be walking the same stone-paved road to the café, on his way to grab some takeout for his afternoon tea. [Character Details])

So when they finally caught a glimpse of their baby all grown up to a fine young man (albeit with a criminal record) walking around Fontaine after some business in the overworld, they decided that maybe it's best to leave him alone even though they desperately want to approach him and maybe make up for all the lost time and pain they've caused him both directly and indirectly. They find out Wriothesley is now in a position where he's respected, comfortable, and possibly even happy and they don't want to disrupt that even a single bit with their appearance. He does have a new name and birthday after all, not the name his biological parent gave him, not even the name his foster parents gave him, he's literally been reborn into the person he wants to be.

So they watch from a distance as their son slowly leaves the Court of Fontaine back to where he's lived most of his life. Content with knowing that even if they're not a part of his life, he's at least where they want him to be.

[ppurikachi]

//Wriothesley//

[moot on tt requested wrio without a shirt and scars (ill draw anything if it doesnt include those damn genshin clothes). So i made a quick wrio🙂‍↕️ he got punched and punched back ouh. Also, id call this practice since i didnt have a ref whatsoever and tried to remember anatomy from my mind, so hopefully its not too wonky]

[viviolettee]

⛓️ 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒: 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄

warnings (bold apply): murder, death investigations, mentions of bludgeoning, mentions of violent crimes, crime scene descriptions, autopsies, forensic procedures, discussion of corpses, blood, psychological horror, paranoia, manipulation, false accusations, imprisonment, implied corruption within legal systems, grief, anxiety, depictions of trauma, and themes of predestination/fatalism. this will be updated as the fic continues. please do not read this if you are not able to handle these topics.

pairing: wriothesley x detective/investigator!reader (gender neutral) wc: ~1,116 words

taglist (4/50): @chxrry-cxke , @phantomhearts65 , @nekobiii , @wriothesleyfan69 // send in an ask or comment to be added!

masterlist. ao3. previous. next.

You hated unanswered questions.

Unfortunately, your life had become one.

The file sat on your desk.

You had moved it three times.

First to a locked drawer.

Then to a filing cabinet.

Then to a shelf on the opposite side of the office.

Every attempt lasted less than an hour before you found yourself staring at it again.

The folder remained exactly where you'd left it.

Quiet.

Unassuming.

A simple stack of paper capable of ruining your week.

Your month.

Possibly your entire life.

You exhaled sharply and rubbed your eyes.

Across the room, rain tapped softly against the office windows.

Fontaine's skies had been grey for days.

Appropriate.

The page rested open before you.

Your name.

The date.

The words beneath it.

DECEASED.

No matter how many times you read it, nothing changed.

No hidden messages appeared.

No clues emerged.

The document offered little information about your manner of death.

Only the certainty that you would die.

You hated certainty almost as much as unanswered questions.

Because certainty encouraged complacency.

People stopped asking why.

Stopped investigating.

Stopped fighting.

The moment someone decided an outcome was inevitable, they had already lost.

And you had no intention of losing to a piece of paper.

A knock sounded at the door.

You looked up.

"Come in."

The door opened.

A courier stepped inside.

An official court messenger.

Young, nervous. It wasn't uncommon for people to feel a little unnerved around the heavy presence of a detective.

The poor man looked as though he'd rather be anywhere else.

You couldn't blame him.

Rumors surrounding the investigation had spread far beyond the people officially involved.

Nobody knew the details.

Everyone knew something was wrong.

The messenger held out an envelope.

"For you."

You accepted it.

"Thank you."

He nodded.

Then immediately left.

Not even attempting conversation.

Interesting.

You waited until the door clicked shut before examining the seal.

Not a court insignia.

Not the Palais Mermonia.

The Fortress of Meropide.

You stared.

Then blinked.

Then stared again.

"...What?"

Carefully, you broke the seal.

Inside sat a single sheet.

The message was short.

Almost annoyingly so.

"Investigator.

Your presence is required at the Fortress of Meropide regarding the ongoing records investigation.

Transportation has been arranged.

Do not decline.

—The Duke"

You read it twice.

Then a third time.

A laugh escaped before you could stop it.

Not because it was funny.

Because of the wording.

Do not decline.

Not requested.

Not invited.

Not even summoned.

Simply informed.

As though the decision had already been made.

You set the paper down.

Then immediately picked it back up.

The Fortress of Meropide had remained mostly uninvolved throughout the investigation.

At least publicly.

You knew reports had been sent there.

You knew Wriothesley had received copies. Who within the court system of Fontaine hadn't?

What you didn't know was why he suddenly wanted to speak with you.

Or why he apparently felt confident enough to order your attendance.

You folded the letter.

Slipped it into your coat.

And began gathering your things.

If nothing else, perhaps someone beneath the sea had answers.

—

The journey took most of the afternoon.

You spent it reviewing notes.

Again.

The pages had become familiar companions.

Victim statements.

Witness accounts.

Timelines.

Evidence logs.

Predicted crimes.

Completed crimes.

All perfectly aligned.

No deviations.

No mistakes.

No failures.

The files had never once been wrong.

That fact bothered you more than the prediction of your own death.

Human beings made mistakes.

Witnesses lied.

Evidence vanished.

Investigations failed.

Perfection was impossible.

Yet somehow the records achieved it every time.

A prediction machine disguised as paperwork.

The thought made your skin crawl.

By sunset, the ocean stretched endlessly around the transport vessel.

Ahead, the great mechanical structure of the Fortress could be seen underwater.

Massive.

Cold.

Unwelcoming.

The prison looked less like a building and more like an industrial beast waiting beneath the waves.

You had visited before.

Only briefly.

Even then, the place had unsettled you.

Not because it was dangerous.

Because it felt isolated.

A world entirely separate from Fontaine.

Down here, the laws of the surface seemed distant.

Muted.

The vessel docked.

You disembarked.

The familiar metal walkways echoed beneath your footsteps.

Workers moved throughout the fortress.

Prisoners carried supplies.

Guards monitored operations.

Everything appeared ordinary.

And yet every person you passed seemed to know exactly who you were.

Some glanced away immediately.

Others stared.

A few whispered.

Wonderful.

The rumors had arrived before you had.

A receptionist greeted you near the administrative offices.

"Investigator (Name)."

You nodded.

"I was expected."

"Of course."

She stood.

"The Duke is waiting."

Naturally.

Not "will be waiting."

Actively waiting.

You were beginning to suspect the Fortress suffered from a chronic inability to phrase things normally.

The receptionist led you through several corridors.

Eventually she stopped before a large office door.

"Inside."

You thanked her, then entered.

The room was warm.

Unexpectedly so.

Bookshelves lined the walls.

Documents occupied several desks.

A kettle rested near one corner.

The atmosphere felt more like a study than an office.

And seated behind a desk was the man responsible for dragging you beneath the sea.

Wriothesley looked up from a report.

Sharp eyes met yours.

Calm.

Observant.

Entirely too amused.

As though he'd already learned something about you that you hadn't.

"You came."

You stared.

Then slowly crossed your arms.

"I mean, your letter said not to decline."

A pause.

Then the corner of his mouth twitched.

"...Fair point."

His smile vanished almost immediately.

His gaze shifted.

Landing briefly on the satchel hanging at your side.

The one containing the file.

The one containing your death sentence.

When he spoke again, his voice was noticeably quieter.

"Then let's skip introductions."

The room suddenly felt smaller.

Wriothesley folded his hands atop the desk.

And for the first time since entering, you noticed the stack of folders beside him.

Court records.

Dozens of them.

Perhaps hundreds.

More than you'd ever seen gathered in one place.

His expression remained calm.

But something about it had changed.

The amusement was gone.

Replaced by concern.

Real concern.

The sort that made experienced investigators pay attention.

"You've spent months trying to discover where the files come from," he said.

You nodded.

"And you've found nothing."

You nodded again.

His gaze hardened.

"Good."

You frowned.

Good? How is that good?

That wasn't the response you'd expected.

Not even remotely.

Wriothesley leaned back slightly.

The movement was casual.

The look in his eyes wasn't.

"Because if your investigation had found the answer already..."

Silence settled between you.

Then he finished quietly.

"...you would've been dead long before that document predicted."

For the first time since receiving the file, you felt genuine fear crawl down your spine.

final note: wowie i actually really love writing this series. a LOT. huge thanks to my beta-reader/editor @lonelykrow this rough draft was originally ROUGH. thanks to @opalescentangels for outlining the chapter before i write it!

have any feedback? feel free to let us know!

[viviolettee]

⛓️ 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄

warnings (bold apply): murder, death investigations, mentions of bludgeoning, mentions of violent crimes, crime scene descriptions, autopsies, forensic procedures, discussion of corpses, blood, psychological horror, paranoia, manipulation, false accusations, imprisonment, implied corruption within legal systems, grief, anxiety, depictions of trauma, and themes of predestination/fatalism. this will be updated as the fic continues. please do not read this if you are not able to handle these topics.

pairing: wriothesley x detective/investigator!reader (gender neutral)

wc: ~854 words. short, but the next chapters will probably be much longer!

taglist (0/50): comment if you'd like to be added!

masterlist. ao3.

The first file arrived on a Tuesday.

Nobody noticed.

That, in hindsight, was perhaps the most unsettling part.

Not the impossible contents. Not the prediction that would later come true. Not the panic that would eventually spread through Fontaine's justice system.

No.

The frightening thing was how ordinary it looked.

It sat among dozens of other case reports on an archivist's desk. Stamped. Signed. Properly formatted. Filed exactly where it belonged.

Case Number 47291.

Petty theft.

Defendant convicted.

Sentence carried out.

The matter should have ended there.

Except the crime had not happened yet.

The defendant would not commit the theft until three days later.

By the time someone noticed the discrepancy, the case had already been archived.

Most assumed it was a clerical mistake.

Fontaine processed thousands of legal documents every week. Errors happened.

The second file arrived shortly after.

Then a third.

Then a fourth.

The mistakes became harder to ignore.

Each document detailed crimes that had not yet occurred.

Every suspect existed.

Every witness was real.

Every location matched.

And every prediction came true.

Exactly.

Word spread quietly among court officials.

Then quiet became urgent.

Urgency became panic.

The Court of Fontaine prided itself on certainty.

Evidence.

Logic.

Reason.

The truth could always be found if one followed the facts.

At least, that was what people liked to believe.

Unfortunately, facts were becoming increasingly difficult to explain.

Which was how the investigation landed on your desk.

You still remember the day the assignment arrived.

The stack of files had been dropped onto your workspace with enough force to shake your inkwell.

Thirty-seven cases.

Thirty-seven impossible documents.

And a single note attached to the top.

“Investigate sources immediately.”

You'd spent years working as an investigator for Fontaine's legal system.

Missing persons.

Fraud.

Conspiracies.

Murders.

Kidnappings.

Sometimes even worse.

You'd built a reputation for solving cases other people considered impossible.

You trusted evidence.

You trusted witnesses.

You trusted the simple belief that every mystery had an answer.

The files challenged all three.

No ink could be traced.

No author could be identified.

No witness remembered creating them.

The paper itself appeared entirely ordinary.

You examined every page personally.

Nothing.

No hidden messages.

No coded markings.

No clues.

Only accurate predictions.

One after another.

You hated that.

Not because it frightened you.

Because it didn't make sense.

And anything that didn't make sense demanded investigation.

So you began where any detective would.

You interviewed suspects.

You questioned clerks.

You reviewed security reports.

You searched archives.

Weeks passed.

Then months.

More and more files kept appearing.

The answers did not.

The deeper you dug, the stranger the pattern became.

The documents never predicted insignificant events.

They focused on heavily violent crimes.

Murders.

Disappearances.

Domestic abuse.

Moments where lives changed forever.

Almost as if something—or even someone—was documenting history before it happened.

You were still trying to prove that theory wrong when the seventh file arrived.

The moment it appeared, every official involved in the investigation was summoned.

The folder was sealed.

Unmarked.

No origin.

No record of delivery.

Exactly like the others.

You were present when it was opened.

The room felt unnaturally quiet.

Nobody spoke.

Nobody moved.

A senior archivist broke the seal.

Inside was a single page.

No crime.

No suspect.

No witness statements.

Just a name.

Your name.

For several seconds, you simply stared.

You were convinced you were reading it incorrectly.

You weren't.

Beneath your name sat a date.

Six months from today.

And beneath the date, written in flawless official script:

DECEASED.

CAUSE: BLUNT FORCE HEAD TRAUMA.

MECHANISM: CEREBRAL CONTUSION.

MANNER: UNDETERMINED, STILL UNDER INVESTIGATION.

The room remained silent.

Someone dropped a pen.

Another official quietly excused themselves and never returned.

You couldn't blame them. You don't know how you haven't left the room yet. You've just heard about your own death, months before it has even happened.

For the first time since the investigation began, you found yourself struggling to breathe.

Not because you believed it.

Because you didn't.

You refused to.

A document could not decide whether you lived or died.

A piece of paper could not determine your fate.

There had to be an explanation.

A culprit.

A source.

A reason.

And even if there wasn't—

You intended to find one anyway.

The file was removed from public record before sunrise.

By noon, copies had reached the highest levels of Fontaine's justice system.

By evening, one final copy had been delivered far beneath the nation's waters.

To the Fortress of Meropide.

Its administrator read the report in silence.

Read it a second time.

Then a third.

When he finally set the page down, his expression had become unusually serious.

A relatively rare thing for Wriothesley.

The report contained hundreds of names.

Thousands, perhaps.

Yet only one seemed to concern him.

Yours.

Anyone would be able to recognize the name of a helpful investigator. Especially one who works on so many cases. That's besides the point, to Wriothesley, though.

What sticks out is your name in such an extreme case.

Because if the court truly knew the future—

Then someone needed to stop it before yours arrived.

final note: huge huge huge thanks to @opalescentangels once again for the INSANE amount of work she has helped with on this work! this went from an outline to a draft in about 48 hours thanks to her. anyways, i really hope this is an enjoyable read for those who are reading this! lots of work has been put into it! AND ANOTHER HUGE THANKS TO @lonelykrow FOR BETA-READING!

have any feedback? please let us know!

[violettegarden]

⛓️ 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭.

notes: hi! this is my first actual fic ever! i do deeply appreciate likes and reblogs as i work on this. also, this fic will be cross posted to ao3, so once i figure out how to get that working, i will link it on this masterlist. thank you for your continued patience and understanding!

updates: i have updates planned weekly, hopefully every saturday. however i am INCREDIBLY busy laster this year and may not have time to update it as much. i apologize!

warnings: murder, death investigations, crime scene descriptions, autopsies, forensic procedures, discussion of corpses, blood, psychological horror, paranoia, manipulation, false accusations, imprisonment, implied corruption within legal systems, grief, anxiety, depictions of trauma, and themes of predestination/fatalism. this will be updated as the fix continues. please do not read this if you are not able to handle these topics.

special thanks: @opalescentangels for a lot of work on this!! she can never get enough thanks for everything she does for me! and to everyone who reads this and supports our work 🤍

pairing: wriothesley x detective/investigator!reader

to be added! prologue coming out ASAP!

[wriothesleyfan69]

angel with a shotgun (or gauntlets I guess)

miliastra custom photo booth game saving me with the option to give our characters accessories because wdym Wriothesley as a fallen angel with black wings can be real

selfship pics under the cut (non-sharing)

[wriothesleyfan69]

MY WRIO DOLL IS THERE, MY BEAUTIFUL HUSBAND <3

Unfortunately I cannot change his face plate because the neck peg comes off instead of staying in the body and is stuck in the connector, if anyone has any experience with this I'd appreciate some help ! It's a Piccodo doll

[ayioumz]

MELTING

5/19/2026 ; he really likes you curled on his lap. 𖥻 ׁ ׅ character/s : Wriothesley x gn! reader 𖥻 ׁ ׅ genre ; fluff, slightly suggestive! ◞ ◞ MASTERLIST

There was one thing about Wriothesley that felt safe. Perhaps there was two things, two reason as to why he felt safe. At first, it was awkward as most relationships would be but gradually you realized that underneath that attitude of his was a clingy puppy. One is that he reaches to you out of affection, not out of possessiveness. Two, he loves whispering, "My pretty baby." in your ear, and it will always make you shiver in the best way possible. Wriothesley is clingy. Not in a clingy whiny but clingy in a way that he wants his hands on your skin, he needs you pressed on him. His favorite part of the day would be you slipping in his arms and curl on his lap even when he needed the stack of papers on his desk done. Being busy + you in his arms while he's busy? Favorite combo. Because now he can finish work while touching you, knowing you're this close to him. Unless, well, a certain idea pops inside your head and you would look up at him through your lashes and oh boy, does he melt and before you know it, his hands are already on you, pulling you closer to him. You're not a weakness to him, you're a distraction. You're the only distraction he let himself have, he liked it when you need his affection the most (and he would tease you first before giving you what you want). When you get sleepy, that's when the whispering comes out. Wriothesley would kiss your temple and whisper, "Sleepy? Do you want to sleep on the couch or stay here?" Because your comfort is his top priority. And you would always fall asleep still on his lap, especially when he continues to whisper; "Sleep, sweetheart." "I'll wake you when I'm done." It was always accompanied by him kissing the side of your head like he was lulling you to sleep, and eventually he felt your breath become even, your face on his neck. That's why you felt safe with him, he reaches out to you naturally — as if the mere idea of you away from his touch, from his arms, from his reach was absurd. He didn't know where to put his hands when you're not there, not a day goes by where he wouldn't kiss a spot on your face. That's just how he shows his love for you.

[it-happened-one-fic]

Meet You There Master-List

It’s been years since Wriothesley disappeared from your life. Falling off the face of the earth with no warning and leaving you wondering what, exactly, had happened to man you’d once been so close to. But as the situation in your college town gets steadily worse, things from the past start coming to light and it suddenly starts to feel like you're right back where you were then. Just a simple college student trying to find your way in life and dealing with everything that entails.

Distantly Familiar

Shoulder Demons

The Natural Thought

Changed

Holes

Satisfied

First Day

A Bit Longer

Chaos

A Nudge

Delicate Situation

Might be a Crush

More and More Complicated

Coming Soon!

Meet You There Aesthetic Meet You There Playlist

[it-happened-one-fic]

Meet You There - 11. Might be a Crush

Summary: You were beginning to think that any appearance from Lyney was going to be a sudden one, though you did hope he stopped catching you off-guard.

Type: Female Reader/ sfw/ second chance romance/ somewhat slow burn/ romance/ fluff/ angst with comfort/ pining/ some drama/ includes platonic interactions

TW: Gang Violence (only explicit in one, later, chapter), one mention of death

Word Count: 1442

Meet You There Master-List

In reality, I didn’t have to leave the house early today to get work. It was just that I needed room to think and the best place I could think of was on my way to work. 

Sara would doubtless ask me questions about the situation and, while I was certain Alhaitham hadn’t told Kaveh about my mini freakout yesterday, Kaveh was still worried.

And I couldn’t blame him. I hadn’t exactly been handling all this as well as I would’ve hoped.

In fact, I hadn’t been handling it well at all, because I remained at the same place I had been at the start of all this. Knowing I needed to talk about everything with Wriothesley, but not having done so. Because I’d quite literally run away from the situation.

But I wasn’t going to continue sitting on my hands and worrying over it. It was a conversation that had to happen, no matter how it turned out.

I just had to figure out how to address the elephant in the room. Because at this point, that’s what it was.

If nothing else, yesterday had caused me to realize something. I wasn’t the only one being bugged about his absence, my lack of knowledge regarding his whereabouts and circumstances, and our awkward relationship status.

Apparently Neuvillette was, at the very least, pushing Wriothesley to do something. Which was a thought that did put at least a small smile on my face. Even if that was a bit cruel, I couldn’t help but feel slightly better knowing I wasn’t the only one being pestered, though.

With luck, it might also make him more open to the conversation too. Though, admittedly, I was the one who was dodging it.

I pushed open the door too Good Hunter and glanced around, spotting Sara as she emerged from the kitchen and smiled at me hopefully as I flipped the sign around from ‘closed’ to ‘open.’

“So? Were you able to get everything sorted out yesterday?” Her eyes scanned me as she questioned me with an undeniably hopeful tone and I felt myself smile in half-exasperated fondness.

Because even if I had been annoyed with the way she’d quite literally shoved me out the door and ordered me to get stuff figured out yesterday, I also knew she’d done all of that because she was worried.

Just like Alhaitham, Kaveh, Lumine, Zhongli, Lisa, Cyno, Tighnari, and Neuvillette were all worried to varying degrees in their own ways.

Though now that I listed them all out in my head, it was a little embarrassing to realize that I’d caused that many people to be concerned about my situation with Wriothesley.

I lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug that had Sara frowning until I spoke, “Sort of. I’m planning on talking to Wriothesley about all of the rumors… I just have to decide how to broach the subject.”

Her expression morphed from mild suspicion to sudden understanding as she nodded, her lips pursuing slightly, “I guess that would be hard to bring up…. If you need any advice then-”

She was cut off as the door abruptly opened behind me and I spun, ready to greet the weirdly early customers only to feel myself blinking in surprise at the slightly familiar face that was accompanied by two less familiar companions.

“Ah, what luck! I said that I’d hoped we’d meet again, and here we are!” The young man all but beamed at me as I blinked at him in mild surprise.

“Ah, you’re-”

“Lynette, Freminet! This is the young lady I told you about who helped me find my way to class the other day!” He continued, glancing at the two behind them who nodded quietly, and almost immediately I realized that he was definitely the extrovert of this little trio.

Sara stepped out from around the counter with a well-practiced customer service smile as she slid up beside me, “I remember Y/n mentioning you… But you must be Lyney. Lisa told me we had a magician on campus now, but I wasn’t expecting to meet you so soon.”

The young man blinked, confusion flashing through his eyes as he looked my way before his eyes widened suddenly and he let out a sheepish laugh, “I suppose I did forget to introduce myself last time, didn’t I? How rude of me! Allow me to try again…”

He paused, sweeping into a deep bow with one hand pressed to his chest while the other reached out and quickly snagged one of mine before I could react as he glanced up at me with a winning smile, “I am Lyney, and these are my two siblings. Lynette and Freminet. It is our honor and pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mademoiselle.”

I blinked in surprise, nodding slightly as he straightened and I carefully retracted my hand under Sara’s amused watch, “Ah, yes. I’m Y/n, nice to meet you too…”

I trailed off awkwardly and the girl behind Lyney let out a sigh, shaking her head slightly, “Look, you made them uncomfortable.”

Her dry tone had me almost jolting back into the moment as Lyney frowned back at her, about to protest despite the accuracy of her words. Though ‘uncomfortable’ might be putting it a bit strongly, since it was really more a situation where I’d been caught off-guard and really didn’t know how to respond.

Either way, I found myself shaking my head. But I knew better than to make things awkward with potential customers even though I knew Sara wouldn’t mind considering how awkward Lyney had already made things with his over-the-top introduction, “No, no! I was just wondering if you’d made it to your class on time the other day?”

I smiled easily, relaxing into the interaction as Lyney looked back my way, immediately brightening as his younger brother murmured something to his sister behind him. The two of them nodding in agreement as they looked my way with an oddly knowing look.

“Thanks to you, my lovely Mademoiselle, yes! Father would’ve been very cross if I’d been late, so I really can’t thank you enough.” 

And there was the flattery again…. Why he was so determined to charm a random employee at a campus restaurant was beyond me. 

“So you’re staying with your father rather than on campus, then? Sara questioned him with an easy smile, idly distracting him from me and giving me room to breath as his gaze pivoted over to her.

“Yes. Father just started working here at the school themselves. They’re teaching politics.”

Sara faltered, suddenly struggling to maintain her usually easy smile and I felt my eyebrows arch even as she continued, questioning them in a slightly confused tone, “Politics? I thought the only new teacher there was Ms. Arlecchino…”

“Yes, that’s right. Father adopted us and was the one who encouraged us to all enroll here despite it being late in the school year.” Lynette was the one who spoke this time, her voice calm as the other one, Freminet, nudged Lyney and murmured something quietly to him.

Lyney nodded though, a frown appearing on his face as he suddenly looked my way and stepped closer. His motions caught me off-guard as he looked at me apologetically, “I’m afraid my brother is right. We need to get going or we’ll be late for class…” He paused, letting out a slight chuckle before shrugging, “It seems like every time we meet I’m running late for something. I can only hope it won’t lessen your opinion of me.”

I felt myself smile slightly, nodding at him, “No, not at all. You need to make sure you keep your grades up since you transferred in late.”

At odds with my unbothered words, Lyney sighed but nodded, “Until we meet again then, Y/n.”

I watched as they left, disappearing just as quickly as they had arrived, before I looked over at Sara and finally let out an exhale as she grinned at me.

“Well, he is definitely interested in you. That’s for sure.” I outright frowned at her words, crossing my arms as she laughed and held up her hands, “Alright, alright. I agree, he’s way too young and admittedly a little overwhelming. You can’t blame me for laughing at the flabbergasted expression you had though.”

I sighed but nodded, “He caught me off-guard this time too… Thanks for covering for me.”

“Anytime,” Sara winked as she turned to head back behind the counter and I smiled. Opting not to think too much about the fact that a brand-new transfer student who was apparently a part-time magician now had what might be a crush on me.

If you would like to read more:

Previous

Next: Coming Soon!

Taglist: @mrssylus

[genshinimpactresources]

Genshin Impact | Screenshots from Genshin Impact KR x Galaxy Store PV

[genshinimpactresources]

Download Link for version cleaned and upscaled by asddzr on bilibili

[genshinimpactresources]

Genshin Impact x Crispy Shark Collab Artwork

Cleaned and upscaled by asddzr on bilibili

Download Link (Google Drive)

[justfurinairl]

the day people stop calling wrio sigewinne's dad and start calling wrio sigewinnes son is the day we finally get flying car or whatever

[sylure]

── ❦. Practice Makes Perfect | Wriothesley x f!reader

─ ❧ GENRE: fluff, really I just wanted to kiss his stupidly cute face a million times

─ ❧ WORD COUNT: 1.2k

The couch in Wriothesley's office exists to welcome guests, to allow him a place where he may rest between late hours, as well as provide shelter for the occasional, and very cute, visitor who needs somewhere to hide from time to time.

In practice, though, it has long since become something else entirely: a quiet little corner where the two of you spend long evenings together.

Tonight is one of those nights, with Wriothesley stretched comfortably along one end of the couch. His hands are occupied with the many files he slowly works through, posing languidly with one arm draped along the backrest. The low lights inside his office illuminate the room softly, gently kissing the faint steam curling from the teacups.

Beside him, there is you. A you who is trying, very earnestly, to occupy yourself. You lasted a good twenty minutes at that—twenty very respectable minutes.

But the problem with evenings like this is that Wriothesley becomes… distracting.

Your eyes drift over him yet again to curiously steal a peek at everything that makes him so irresistible. The little furrow of his brow as he reads, those pretty eyes zeroed in on papers rather than you, and overall simply the shape of him; every scar, muscle, and streak of hair something you shamelessly admire.

The man is handsome in a very unfair way. And by now he is also entirely aware that you have abandoned whatever you were once doing in favour of watching him like some rare specimen.

"Something on my face?" His voice shoots out without warning, making you blink in surprise. Wriothesley hasn't even looked up from the file and yet here you are, growing flustered at the mere sound of his voice.

After a momentary struggle, you manage to give him a cute little "…No," as your lips purse slightly. The act of nonchalance stirs an amused hum from your distraction personified.

"Mhm?" Wriothesley's mouth twitches faintly as he finally lowers the papers to glance over at you with that easy, playful curiosity he tends to reserve just for you. "You've been staring at me for a while," he comments lightly. "Should I be concerned?"

You shuffle a little closer instead of answering. Which rewards you with intrigue written all across the Duke's face as he raises a brow at you. Wriothesley does not expect the sudden attack when you lean in to press a quick kiss to his cheek. So, a brief pause follows, then a little sound akin to a chuckle rings out once his brain catches up with what just happened.

"…Ah."

Though before he can say anything else, you kiss his other cheek. Next up is the edge of his jaw, then his temple, followed by his forehead.

Wriothesley basically stops moving in acceptance of becoming your canvas of adoration. With a soft exhale through his nose, he discards all files onto the table in front of the couch to settle back and give you further access.

"You seem rather busy suddenly," he remarks just as another kiss lands on the bridge of his nose. "Extremely," you murmur against his skin while brushing your lips along the apple of his cheek.

He can't contain the chuckle; it's such a warm and adorable sound to rumble through his chest that it leads you to continue this ridiculous little campaign of love.

"You were bored, weren't you," he murmurs now that his hands play with your hair, the fabric of your clothes, your jewellery—really anything he can reach.

"…Maybe." Followed up by more kisses down his cheek and jaw. Your hands move to cup his face then as you tilt his head just enough to watch the soft lights of the room dance across his handsome features.

He looks near boyish with that unguarded amusement swirling in his eyes. Though the cherry on top is that adorable little grin he sometimes wears whenever your antics make his heart flutter almost too much for the composed Duke to comprehend.

"I see," he concedes while his hands smooth along your sides. "This is your solution to boredom."

Another kiss right at the corner of Wriothesley's mouth and a sweet "Yes," filled with conviction is enough for him to sigh in (happy) surrender.

For a moment, warm eyes watch your little display of affection with a fondness he won't even bother trying to hide anymore. Then his hand slides up and gently catches your wrist to pull you more firmly on top of his very warm body.

"Well, if that's the case…" the pause is for nothing other than dramatics judging by the glint of joy in his eyes, "it would be rude not to participate."

Before you may react, Wriothesley leans forward and presses a quick kiss to your cheek. He chuckles at the look of pleased surprise spreading across your face. "Oh? Was that not part of the plan?"

Though you recover quickly enough as an adorably big grin stretches across your lips. "No, it absolutely was," a whisper before pressing another kiss to his forehead, his cheek, and just below his ear as well.

Wriothesley laughs outright this time as a large hand settles warmly at your back while he allows the affectionate chaos to continue. "You're relentless." Though his voice sounds far too pleased to count as a complaint.

"I'm simply helping you get used to affection." And you just cuddle in closer, even going as far as to nuzzle your nose against his cheek. How a man of his stature can induce cuteness aggression should be studied.

"That so?" Wriothesley murmurs, but the mock seriousness he attempts to don is wrecked immediately by another chuckle now that you are truly smothering him. "…In that case, I believe I'm starting to understand the rules."

Before you can ask what he means, his hand slips behind your back and pulls you properly into his lap. The movement is unfairly smooth and practised—in a way that reminds you he is, in fact, much stronger than he usually bothers to show.

"Oh—" You don't get much further than that before suddenly it's your turn. A kiss lands on your cheek, then one to your other cheek, and another few all along your jawline.

"Well, you started this," Wriothesley points out lightly between all of them with a voice that is as warm and sweet as honey.

Your temple turns into his next victim, followed by your forehead where he plants a particularly long smooch before peppering one or two kisses against the tip of your nose.

Your attempts at protest have died along the way since it does, indeed, feel pretty nice to be on the receiving end of these little gestures. Along the way, a pair of strong arms have wrapped themselves securely around you to hold you in place for the very serious lesson you started to continue.

"I think," Wriothesley almost sounds thoughtful as he presses one final kiss just beneath your eye, "I'm getting the hang of this…"

You're still smiling when his hand gently cups your cheek, still dazed and very love-drunk thanks to everything Wriothesley does for you. The sight you offer softens the playful glint in his eyes with a flutter of his lashes… suddenly there is only enough room for blatant adoration and too much love as his thumb brushes lightly against your skin.

"Though there may be one important step left," he merely mumbles as his attention already drops to those very, very tempting lips you currently press together a little too tight.

His thumb moves along the apple of your cheek while Wriothesley leans up enough for your jaw to slacken, for your lips to part and your breaths to meet.

The lingering aroma of tea and milk and sugar leads the sensation. It's a slow kiss, one that deepens until it feels impossible to pull away. The kind that steals the air straight from your lungs and leaves nothing but warmth and fuzzy feelings to spread through your body.

When he finally moves back, that boyish smile returns to his lips. "Practise," he says lightly, "I think I need a lot more practise with you."