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throatgoat4u · 4 months ago

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i heard @bernardsbendystraws requested more fluff 🙈...

blanket hogger

in which... matt keeps hogging the blanket

a/n: i had this in my drafts and never finished this so it gave me an excuse to actually finish. i also have ALOT of unfinished fluff so if ya'll are interested, let me know. kinda definitely not proofread so please don't come at me for grammar mistakes cause proofreading is so boring. enjoy!

toodles sluts :)

you were lying in bed next to matt, both of you mindlessly watching your phones, the silence comfortable between you. it was your little “unwinding” time—a moment where words weren’t necessary. just the simple, shared presence of each other was enough. that was the beauty of it, really. there was no pressure to fill the silence, just the quiet hum of being together without needing to say a word.

it started off small—hell, you didn’t even notice it at first. matt shifted onto his side, causing the blanket to inch toward him. no biggie, though—it wasn’t the end of the world. then, matt pulled the blanket just a little more. this time, you looked away from your phone and glanced at him for a moment. but since you still had plenty of blanket left, you didn’t think much of it and went back to watching your show.

matt kept shifting, trying to find a comfortable position, and with each movement, the blanket inched closer to him. this time, it started creeping up the bed. you still had some blanket left, but the sheets were starting to peek through now. you chose to ignore it—it wasn’t a big deal yet. but then, matt pulled the blanket just a little more, barely enough for you to notice. you glanced over, raising an eyebrow, but he was already half-turned, unaware.

you tugged the blanket back to your side, but matt didn’t even flinch. he’d clearly made himself comfortable. the blanket now was practically wrapped around him, leaving you with just a sliver of fabric. the air on your side felt cooler, and you sighed dramatically, pretending you weren’t bothered.

"seriously?" you muttered under your breath, eyes flicking over to him. he didn’t respond, just continued to scroll on his phone like nothing had happened.

you hesitated for a moment, considering your options. maybe it wasn’t a big deal. but then, the cold hit you again, and with a dramatic roll of your eyes, you gave the blanket another sharp tug, trying to reclaim some territory.

matt immediately shot up, his eyes locking with yours as he yanked the blanket completely off your side. you sat there, mouth agape, staring at him in disbelief. you’d only taken back a decent portion, but it wasn’t like you’d claimed all of his side. you were still his side, technically.

“matt, what the fuck?!” you exclaimed, scrambling to pull the blanket back toward you.

he shot you a glare so sharp it could’ve cut glass, the kind that said he meant business. without a second thought, he tugged the blanket back towards himself, clearly determined to win this ridiculous battle.

“matt, come on,” you whined, grabbing the blanket again, “i don’t have any blanket. stop being difficult.” you pulled harder, now tugging it back to your side with more force.

“you’re not even cold,” he shot back, his voice muffled by the blanket as he kept it tightly to his chest, clearly refusing to let go.

"i’m not cold, i’m just being reasonable!" you argued, pulling the blanket a little harder this time, but he was already half-wrapped up in it, practically cocooned.

“that’s not how blankets work,” he said, shooting you a mischievous grin as he tugged it even further towards him.

you rolled your eyes, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips despite the tension. it was hard to stay mad when he was being this ridiculous. still, you weren’t giving up.

“you’re impossible, you know that?” you huffed, but you didn’t let go of the blanket.

“i know,” he said, his grin never wavering. he was enjoying this way too much. at this point, it felt like you were both caught in an absurd game of tug-of-war. you pulled the blanket toward you, and matt yanked it back, both of you firmly holding your ground. the blanket was caught in the middle, stretched between you, taut with the effort you were both putting into it.

“seriously?” you muttered, pulling harder, your muscles straining slightly. “i'm not giving up that easily.”

matt didn’t even budge, his grip unshakable. “you know,” he said, voice dripping with amusement, “it would be best to just give up at this point. we both know i’m stronger.”

you shot him a look, a mix of disbelief and defiance. “oh, really? is that so?” you tugged again, this time a bit more forcefully, but matt didn’t even flinch.

“mmhm,” he hummed, clearly enjoying the power struggle. “you’re just wasting your energy.”

“you’re insufferable,” you grumbled, not giving up. the blanket was just within your reach, but with every pull, matt countered with an even stronger grip.

you could see the smugness in his eyes as he leaned back, his body practically falling into the bed, using his weight to his advantage. “you can try all you want, but i’m not letting go. it's mine now."

you thought for a moment, the gears in your head turning. then, it hit you—he was pulling the blanket so hard that if you just let go... well, that’s exactly what you did.

“you know what, you’re right,” you said, feigning surrender.

without warning, you released your grip, and matt, completely unprepared for your sudden move, was pulled off the bed by the force of his own tug. the blanket, now free, landed on top of him in a heap, completely covering him from head to toe.

you couldn’t hold it in. you burst into uncontrollable giggles at the sight of your boyfriend, now a bundle of blanket with just his flailing limbs visible underneath.

"oh my god," you said between laughs, "look at you!"

matt’s voice muffled from beneath the blanket, a mix of confusion and frustration. "this isn’t funny! help me out!" he grumbled, but you only laughed harder, the image of him struggling to get free too good to ignore.

he wiggled around, clearly trying to find his way out, but the blanket was tangled around him so tightly, it was like he’d become a human burrito.

“i can’t breathe in here!” he finally shouted, though his words were more muffled than anything.

you, still giggling, leaned over and helped him out of the blanket, but not before teasing, “see? i told you i’d win."

“yeah, yeah, whatever,” matt grumbled, his voice playful yet tinged with mock annoyance. he shot you a look, and for a moment, neither of you moved. then, without warning, he unraveled himself from the blanket and lunged toward you.

before you could even register what was happening, he tackled you, pulling the blanket around both of you in a tight, fluffy cocoon. you yelped in surprise as he rolled you both onto the bed, his arms wrapping the blanket around you like a burrito.

“matt, what are you doing?!” you exclaimed, laughing uncontrollably, your voice muffled by the sudden warmth of the blanket.

“i thought you were cold, sweetheart,” he said mischievously, his voice teasing as he tightened the blanket around you both. “just tryna warm you up.”

you wiggled around in the blanket, now trapped between matt’s arms and the soft fabric, still giggling at how ridiculous the situation had become. “you’re insane,” you managed between laughs, your face flushed from both the struggle and the laughter.

“i know,” he said with a grin, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before holding you snugly in the blanket. “but you love me anyway.”

“unfortunately,” you replied with a dramatic sigh, though you snuggled into him, the warmth of the blanket and the even warmer feeling of his embrace making you feel safe and happy. you couldn’t help but smile.

he held you for a moment longer, your laughter fading into content sighs, the two of you wrapped up in the blanket, completely at ease in each other’s arms.

dividers: @bernardsbendystraws

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seulgisqt · 5 months ago

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𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐒 — alexia putellas

alexia putellas x barcelona!reader

(a/n: on a roll trying to pump out my drafts cause I can feel the drought coming soon from uni >_< I’ve had this alexia piece gathering dust from last february)

word count: 2234

genre: somewhat fluff with angsty tendencies??

tw: emotional cheating

part two

summary: trying to keep your heart in check, but alexia’s charm keeps slipping through the cracks

You had always dreamed of playing for FC Barcelona. The moment you stepped onto the training grounds for the first time, it felt surreal, like walking through a dream you were afraid to wake up from. The weight of the crest on your chest, the legacy of the club, the camaraderie…it was everything you’d imagined.

What you hadn’t imagined was Alexia Putellas.

Alexia had a presence that couldn’t be ignored. As captain, she carried herself with an effortless confidence, but it wasn’t just her skill that made people gravitate towards her. It was how she made everyone feel like they belonged and were part of something greater. You admired that. Admired her.

But admiration was one thing. Whatever this thing brewing between the two of you? That was something else entirely.

It started subtly.

You noticed the lingering glances during drills, the way Alexia always seemed to pick you as a partner for rondos, and the teasing remarks that hovered just on the edge of something more. At first, you thought it was just the team’s natural warmth, a culture of closeness, of sisterhood. But then came the casual brushes of Alexia’s hand against your arm, the way she’d lean in just a little too close when you were reviewing plays, the way her eyes would linger just a second too long.

You weren’t unaware of the tension that danced just beneath the surface; rather, you were cautious. Caution was necessary because no one on your team was privy to the intricate details of your life back home. It wasn’t a secret in the traditional sense—more of a quiet truth you didn’t feel the need to broadcast. Lucia, your girlfriend, had been your unwavering supporter as you took the leap to move to the vibrant city of Barcelona. She understood the sacrifices involved, even as the miles stretched between you. You had made her a promise, a vow echoing in your mind: you would make it work, that your bond was resilient enough to withstand the distance and that nothing essential between you would change.

But things were changing, weren’t they?

After an intense afternoon training session, most of the team had already headed inside, but you stayed behind to run a few extra drills. You were focused, dribbling through a set of cones, when Alexia appeared at your side, effortlessly matching your pace.

“You know, overachieving isn’t always attractive.” Alexia teased, her voice light, but there was a glint of something more in her eyes.

You smirked, side-stepping around a cone. “Good thing I’m not trying to be attractive.”

“I don’t believe that for a second.” She chuckled, a rich sound that sent warmth prickling down your spine.

You rolled your eyes and tried to focus on the ball at your feet, but it was hard when Alexia was right there, watching you with that signature, half-lidded smirk.

“You always this serious?” Alexia asked, dribbling in sync with you.

“Serious wins games.” You said without missing a beat.

Alexia grinned. “Yeah, but flirting makes them fun.”

You barely managed to avoid tripping over the brightly coloured ball that had rolled onto the path. With a swift recovery, you straightened yourself just in time to see Alexia snatch it up, a playful glimmer dancing in her eyes that made her amusement unmistakable. “You’re unbearable,” you muttered half-heartedly, nudging her lightly with your shoulder in an attempt to redirect the conversation to a more comfortable territory. But Alexia didn’t shift away; instead, she leaned in just a bit closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “You like having me around though.”

You swallowed hard, a knot forming in your throat as you grappled with an unfamiliar warmth creeping over you. The afternoon sun beat down relentlessly, but the flush in your cheeks hinted at something deeper—an awareness that you could not shake. “I like winning. You help with that.” You attempted to keep the atmosphere light, forcing out a nervous chuckle that barely masked your racing heart. Alexia, ever perceptive, tilted her head to the side, a playful spark dancing in her eyes as she regarded you with an amused smirk. “Good answer,” she replied, the corners of her lips curling up in delight. A quiet sigh of relief escaped your lips as Alexia leaned back a fraction, the teasing tension lingering in the air between you, thick and palpable.

In the locker room later, you sat down on the bench, wiping sweat from your brow. Your phone buzzed with a message from Lucia: Miss you. Call me later?

You stared at the screen, feeling the weight of the distance between them more than ever. You were loyal, you loved Lucia. But Alexia had a way of getting under your skin, of making you question things you didn’t want to question.

“You good?” a familiar voice broke through the haze of your thoughts, pulling you back into the bustling hallway. You looked up to find Alexia standing a few feet away, her silhouette framed by the harsh fluorescent lights. She leaned casually against the row of lockers, one leg crossed over the other, a relaxed posture that somehow emanated confidence. The warmth in her gaze was new; it held an unexpected softness that made your chest tighten slightly.

“Yeah,” you replied quickly, a hint of defensiveness creeping into your tone as you shoved your phone deep into the recesses of your bag. “Just tired.”

Alexia studied you for a moment, her brow slightly furrowed in concern, but she didn’t press further. Instead, she offered that signature smile of hers, bright, infectious, and impossibly charming. “Dinner tonight? A few of us are going out.”

You hesitated, feeling a wave of uncertainty wash over you. You were acutely aware of what this invitation could spell out—more time spent close to Alexia, infused with her teasing laughter and those lingering looks that made your heart race. Despite the swirl of apprehension, you found yourself nodding, the corners of your mouth lifting in an awkward smile. “Yeah,” you said, the word escaping as a soft agreement. “Sounds good.”

As Alexia turned to walk away, her laughter trailing behind her like a melody, you let out a slow, deliberate exhale. You leaned against the cool metal of the locker, the weight of the day and your mixed feelings pressing down on you.

This was fine. This was friendly. This was nothing.

The problem was, Alexia didn’t let up.

On and off the pitch, she found ways to insert herself into your orbit, offering to run extra drills with her, sitting next to her during team meetings, and walking alongside her after training. And every time, there was that look, the one that made you feel like you were standing on the edge of something dangerous.

You regretted saying yes almost immediately.

Dinner with the team was intended to be a simple outing, a chance to unwind and bond over good food and drinks. Yet, the moment Alexia stepped into the bustling Barcelona restaurant, the atmosphere shifted. You should have sensed the impending chaos and politely declined the invitation, preferring the comfort of a quiet evening at home. Instead, here you were, surrounded by a vibrant mix of teammates at a long, rustic wooden table, laughter and lively chatter enveloping you like a warm embrace.

The aroma of grilled seafood and roasted vegetables wafted through the air, mingling with the sounds of clinking glasses and cheerful toasts. But amid the joviality, your thoughts were consumed by the presence of Alexia. She sat so close that every subtle movement caused your arms to graze against each other, sending a jolt of warmth through you. Her laughter rang out, bright and infectious, drawing everyone in, but for you, it was a reminder of the tension layered beneath the surface. You should have called Lucia, sought the solace of familiarity, and anchored your heart where it truly belonged. Instead, you played along, trapped in this delicate balance of camaraderie and unacknowledged longing.

“You don’t drink?” the blonde asked, raising an eyebrow as you stuck with water while the others sipped on glasses of wine. You smiled faintly. “Nah, not really my thing.”

“You’re always so serious, chica,” Alexia leaned in slightly, her voice low enough that only you could hear, “Ever thought about letting loose?”

You met her gaze, trying to ignore the way your heart thumped harder. “I’m plenty of fun,” you arched an eyebrow, “just…in my own way.”

Alexia smirked, eyes twinkling with something you couldn’t quite place. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

The rest of the team was oblivious to the tension simmering between you two, caught up in their own conversations. You did your best to focus on the food, the chatter, anything but the way Alexia kept looking at her as if she was trying to figure her out.

Without any hint of hesitation, Alexia leaned closer, her breath gentle and warm against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “You know,” she whispered, her voice low and inviting, “if you ever want to talk about whatever it is you’re keeping locked away, I’m a really good listener.”

You froze in place, your fork paused mid-air, a piece of food forgotten as her words sank in. Alexia pulled back slightly, a playful, innocent smile dancing on her lips, but behind that façade, you sensed a deeper intention. She was observing you keenly, prodding and probing, pushing the boundaries to see what lay beneath your guarded exterior.

And the worst part? It was working.

The night stretched on, and you found yourself relaxing more than you intended. The conversation flowed easily, and you were reminded of how much you truly loved being here. How much you loved the game, the city, the team.

But every now and then, Alexia would say something, touch your arm softly, or glance at you in a way that made your thoughts spiral into dangerous territory. By the time you left the restaurant and the team spilled onto the lively Barcelona streets, you felt like you were walking a tightrope.

“You heading home?” Alexia asked casually, falling into step beside you as you walked through the city.

“Yeah, early training tomorrow.” You nodded.

Alexia smiled knowingly. “Always responsible.”

“Someone has to be.” You shot her a look.

You walked in silence for a moment, the cool air wrapping around you both like a gentle shroud, before Alexia broke the stillness. With her hands tucked into the back pockets of her jeans, she spoke in a softer tone, almost as if she were sharing a secret. “You know, I get it. Keeping parts of your life to yourself.”

You stiffened slightly at her words, glancing at her with curiosity and caution. “Do you?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Alexia nodded, her expression thoughtful. “Yeah,” she replied, her gaze drifting to the ground ahead. “People expect things from us. Sometimes it’s just easier to keep certain things private.” She paused, taking a deep breath as if the weight of her confession lingered in the air. “But…it can get lonely too,” she added quietly, her eyes flickering with a hint of vulnerability.

You contemplated her words, the significance hanging between you like unspoken truths, debating in your mind whether to share your own feelings. After a moment's hesitation, you finally responded, “Yeah,” your voice low and reflective. “It can.”

As they approached the intersection where their paths would diverge, Alexia paused for a moment, an indecision flashing across her face. She looked up at you, her eyes glimmering in the soft glow of the streetlights. “Well,” she said, a small, almost hesitant smile forming on her lips. “Goodnight, chica.”

“Night, Alexia,” you replied, your voice slightly strained as you forced a smile back at her, feeling a mix of emotions swirling within you.

With that, you turned away a little too suddenly, your heart pounding in your chest as you walked briskly down the street. Each step felt heavier than the last, the sounds of the evening fading into a dull roar in your ears.

Once you finally arrived at your apartment, you slumped down onto your bed, the familiar comfort of your room juxtaposed against the storm brewing inside you. Your gaze fell on your phone, which lay silently beside you. An unread message from Lucia caught your eye, its simple declaration striking a chord deep within: I love you. Call me when you’re free.

A sigh escaped your lips as you ran a hand through your hair, frustration and longing intertwining in a tangled mess of emotion. You loved Lucia, you truly did, but the weight of unspoken words and unresolved feelings hung in the air around you, suffocating yet inescapable.

You lay in bed that night, staring at the ceiling, your phone resting on your chest. Lucia’s message glowed softly in the dark, but you couldn’t bring yourself to respond just yet. Your mind was still tangled in the evening, in the way Alexia looked at you, and spoke to you.

This isn’t a problem, you told yourself. I’m just overthinking it.

And yet, you knew better.

You sighed, finally picking up your phone and typing out a quick reply: I love you too. I’ll call tomorrow, I promise. Training ran late.

A lie. A small one. But it was easier than explaining why she hadn’t called sooner.

#alexia putellas #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader #fc barcelona femeni #barcelona femeni #barcelona femeni x reader #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso one shot #woso fluff #woso fanfics #seulgisqt writes

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c0wb0yenthusiast · 1 year ago

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My Lady

Feyd Rautha x Fem!Reader

Word count : 6.5k

Warnings : SMUT! let me know in the comments if I’ve missed anything

Summary : You’re being married off to the mysterious Na-Baron of Giedi Prime. Feyd Rautha is a strange man, but his confusing mannerisms frustrate you throughout his stay in your planet. However, how do you supposed he feels about you?

Feyd Rautha is a leader.

Feyd Rautha is a prince.

He has a whole nation willing to submit to his every request. He does not have time to be waiting for his alleged ‘bride’.

So why is he standing in the hallway like a lost child? It only heightens his anger, his frustration.

You must be making him wait out of spite, since it’s so obvious you harbour no reason to appreciate this marital alliance. He’s already drafting up wicked ideas of what his witch for a wife will look like; clearly you haven’t shown yourself until the last moment to be spared from any chances of spending time with your new husband.

Of course, it’s no secret that the Reverend Mothers’ breeding program may seem ‘unfair’ to some. Like pairing such a worthy, well-bred prince such as Feyd with a young woman who hasn’t been raised right - this must only benefit the alliance of nations and different species.

His posture can only be described as perfection. His shoulders drawn and broad, hands tucked behind his back in an orderly manner to appear more powerful - after all, first impressions are important for alliances.

Even in thought, he cannot call this a marriage. The very thought of it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, one that he desires to get rid of as quickly as possible.

However, with perfection comes sacrifices. Since the moment he stepped foot onto your land - your territory - Feyd braced himself as if he were walking straight into an ambush and you were the enemy. His muscles strained against the plain, dark cloths he’d adorned today instead of his usual armour. He was vulnerable to his surroundings now, unshielded and alone.

He pays close attention to the hallway he finds himself dawdling in. It’s dim, built with smooth bricks that are cool to the touch. But that is no distraction for what is to come any moment now.

In mere moments, the two of you were to meet for the first time and officiate your marriage. You were to be his wife, provide him with children and continue the Harkonnen lineage. That is what a successful alliance was, as well as what was expected of by the Reverend Mothers who set up this marriage in the first place.

Feyd forces any kind of hesitation out of his mind, why should he be unwilling? All you needed to do was perform your marital duties and live with him. You don’t even need to be in the same room with him after that. It was simple enough for Feyd to understand after it had been instilled in his head ever since he’d been born.

Feyd was ready to commit to making this alliance work out for both of your nations. As for his own martial duties? It would be as easy as his fights in the arena, entertaining even. You’re just another enemy he needs to fight off in another way.

He doesn’t flinch when the door next to him opens slowly and your father comes out, inviting him in to meet his newly wed.

Then he saw you.

He cannot begin to explain the flood of unfamiliar emotions that crashed once he caught sight of you. He knew you wouldn’t look like his own kind - but this is something entirely different. You are unlike his Darlings back in Giedi Prime, unlike any kind of princess or woman who has come to witness his battles. His feelings towards you deviate from the usual ones he’s been indoctrinated to feel. You’re beautiful in a way that aches.

You are the beginning of his newfound hunger for something new, something he simply doesn’t want to understand.

Feyd Rautha is smitten. So profoundly smitten, it causes him pain that he doesn’t enjoy for once. It gnaws at his bones as he continues to glare at you while entering the room.

“Please, My Lord, have a seat.” You sound mostly unaffected, he isn’t able to piece together what is forming inside your mind. But he can already tell. You’ve probably studied him before this, obvious from your lack of surprise which surprisingly pains him. He wants to know what you’re thinking.

Deep down, he craves to know if you’re experiencing the same feelings as he is now.

Even if he can’t decipher them.

He opts to stand by the chair you’d gestured to, but it only brings a small hint of confusion as you rise out of your chair to greet him.

“Feyd Rautha Harkonnen, you are a mighty warrior and prince. I am glad to become your wife and unite our nations.” You’re dressed for the occasion; your pure white gown flows while you move, practically making your face glow as if you were the only significant thing in the room. And you were to Feyd.

You were his bride.

You were his and that is what mattered to him. Having possession over the finest woman in all the land, it was like a blessing in his honour.

He ignores your suspiciously dull tone, overcome by the sheer beauty that he is currently facing instead.

“As am I.” Feyd struggles to force these words out, he could almost choke on them. His raspy tone seems to shock you, your eyes widen for a split second.

But then you relax just as quick, crossing your hands over one another as you look up at him to talk.

“In my culture, we commemorate marriage with rings. A symbol of our union. We took the time to forge a pair for the occasion.”

He’s too busy watching your lips to pay attention to the servant holding out the rings, but quickly takes one and entraps it inside his fist.

“My Lord? Will you not wear your ring now?”

He almost felt himself falter at the sight of your concern - it seems genuine. The gentle frown on your lips as you wait for an answer tugs at his chest. You wanted him to honour your nation, you wanted him to honour his own marriage.

Feyd doesn’t answer, only unclenching his fist slowly and then sliding the ring onto his finger. It fits perfectly, prompting him to examine it for a couple of moments before being interrupted by you again.

“I made sure to choose the most special designs for us. We both have a gem sacred to our culture in the centre of the ring. Look.” You guide your hand towards his cautiously, observing his reaction for any kind of surprise or aggression.

Feyd stays as still as a stone, allowing your tender hand to gesture to the gem encrusted in his wedding band. Although the jewel is a deep, crimson colour it has a small glint that catches his eye. It looks rather simple compared to his Harkonnen style ring, symbolising his lineage and loyalty to his own nation.

Now he had to balance two kinds of priorities: his marriage and his clan.

“When will the ceremony take place?” He finally manages to muster up something showing any kind of intelligence, but it doesn’t phase you. You’re probably already thinking about the rest of your life with a cold, barbaric sadist.

“Well, right now we have just officially married. This was represented by the rings. Tomorrow, we plan on hosting a dinner before I leave for Geidi Prime. Is that all?” Your question isn’t intimidating or full of anger, rather more curious. He’d like to think that you wanted to know more, but now Feyd is mentally batting this newfound want to please you, have you smile or praise him. He is too busy to consider what your true intentions could be.

“Yes. I want to be shown to my chambers.” He nods, placing his hands behind his back once more. To you it looks polite, whereas Feyd sees it as restraining himself. He can’t shake the urge to touch you, claim you properly as his own and see if you’re any different from his own kind. Is your skin softer? What does your hair feel like? All of these questions rush through his mind continuously, pushing his boundaries further and further.

You have no time to respond since Feyd has already left the room, practically charging out with a servant trailing behind him. He cannot bear to look at your face any longer.

It will only feed his delusions of the possibility of love in this alliance.

Feyd is no stranger to the nighttime, but the peace that comes with the loneliness is new to him. When he usually stalked the halls in Giedi Prime, tension was thick in the atmosphere, so thick it could’ve choked him. But that wouldn’t have deterred Feyd’s other senses. There was always some reason to have his guard up.

Yet, as he stared up at the moon from the courtyard, there was only the sound of his quiet, quick breaths. He was still dressed in his cloths from earlier, hesitant towards the idea of becoming any more vulnerable if he let himself adorn his nightclothes. The breeze presses against his face gently, gliding off of his skin and clothes as he absorbs the new sensation of the cool air. Your planet was almost as mysterious as you, so many things unexplained that he surprisingly cannot say a bad word about.

The soft patter of gentle footsteps on the cool stones disrupt his solace, prompting Feyd to whip his head in your direction. You’re making your way towards him slowly, holding up the hem of your nightgown to prevent it from getting any stains from the damp grass of the courtyard. His eyes glaze over your figure highlighted in the moonlight, but only more dramatised from the thin, white fabric of your gown. He quickly averts his gaze before you’re able to get close enough to notice, pretending that he hasn’t even bothered to look at you.

You don’t say anything as you approach. Your hands lie limply by your sides once you stand beside him, tilting your head up to look at the moon.

“Do you not have a moon in Geidi Prime?” It’s soft and cautious, as if you’re treading water and trying to see if you’ll sink.

“We do. It isn’t like your planet at all. Hardly anything is similar.” His sentences are short and unintentionally as sharp as his posture.

“That is why we’re married, is it not? To bring together two nations who could benefit from each other.”

He nods in agreement and watches you out of the corner of his eye; he can see the subtle curve of your lips and how it changes your entire face tremendously. Feyd can’t tear his attention away from you.

“I’m glad that you came to my planet, my lord. I’m sorry if this isn’t how a princess should speak… but it will help my people and that is my sworn duty. Thank you.” You add, bowing your head to him shortly. It’s an embarrassment for a princess to be acting so informally when unchaperoned, you scold yourself.

He nods again, and you can feel a hint of amusement bubbling within your chest.

“You don’t talk a lot, do you? Are all Harkonnens like this?” You’re trying not to faint at the possibility of getting shut down or even attacked, yet it hasn’t unnerved you entirely. You don’t know enough about your husband to know what to expect for your honeymoon in Giedi Prime - which can have consequences for the better or worse.

Finally, he tilts his head in your direction. His eyes linger on your face as his mouth opens to respond.

“No.”

You chuckle, putting a hand to your mouth as you smile and look up at him with those bright eyes that Feyd is beginning to grow some kinds of strange feelings for.

“One of my warriors was sent to Giedi Prime when I found out who I was to marry, so I could understand who I would spend my future with. He saw you fighting in the arena - you were much more talkative then.” Your tone is playful as you wait for an answer, shifting closer to him.

Feyd is biting his tongue, letting the molars press deep to the point he feels some kind of pain that brings pleasure. His usual way to cope with complex feelings.

But he’s not even sure of what these current feelings are.

Feyd usually categorises ‘complex’ as a mix of emotions he’s used to. As if it’s a formula. For example, anger and confusion can lead to frustration, which is something he’s been feeling a lot since he’s laid eyes on you.

But that is not the case this time. He is having an irregular formula that could lead to disaster.

One part of his mind is primal, downright carnal as his gaze flickers to the low neckline of your dress. The way your collarbone is illuminated in the moonlight, how little of your body is covered by this ‘gown’ as his eyes roam your shoulders and neck.

The other is unknown. He cannot piece together why you’re like this, why you’re doing these horrible things to his mind and body. What they could cause him to do if these games go on for too long.

“I am very excited on the battlefield. Like a little boy.” He scolds himself, crossing his arms as he reflects on his last time in the arena.

“Well, I don’t think that’s a bad thing. You are just enjoying yourself.”

“So you understand the pleasure of winning battle?”

You’re a taken aback at his direct question, almost shrinking as he peers deep into your eyes.

“I am not usually involved in warfare, but I do find there are other ways to seek this kind of pleasure you speak of.” You’re a little flushed now, nervous of where this topic of ‘pleasure’ could lead to. It’s midnight and you’re alone in the courtyard with your newly wedded husband - what could go wrong?

“I am no child. I understand what you speak of when using the term ‘other ways’.” He’s much closer now, glaring down at you with such an intensity that you feel as if he’s searing marks into your skin from his gaze.

“I am so sorry, Na-Baron. I- I should not have brought this topic up! It is very shameful, so I must depart now.” You turn to leave, about to grasp onto your nightgown when his sudden grip on your wrist makes you gasp.

“Why did you call me Na-Baron?” His tone is low, intimidating and sending sparks down your spine that shouldn’t be there.

“Because… because…” you find yourself at a loss for words, too nervous to attempt to form a response.

“You say that I am your lord, so you are my lady.” His voice comes out raspier, every word has an edge to it as he speaks. You cannot help but feel as if this is a command.

As you’re about to retort, state that he’s never called you ‘his lady’ so far, he leans in closer. His plump lips are parted, allowing his hot breath to fan over your skin. It spreads a sweet, hot sensation that brings up a fever in your mind. Suddenly, your judgement is a little more clouded, intoxicated by his presence.

“You have not said that I am your lady yet.” You whisper, exhaling shaky breaths as your eyes dart from his gaze to his lips. Then again. It’s a battle that you’re losing as you’re too focused on the subtle movement on his lips as he lets out shallow breaths.

“Tomorrow. Tomorrow, at the meal, I will make sure everyone knows you are mine. My lady.” He adds, letting go gently and backing away. His expression remains stern, but there is some kind of mischievous glint in his eyes. A warning of the true nature of this prince.

You try to make out any kind of smirk now spread across his lips, but he’s completely blank. You’re unable to figure out if he’s teasing you or genuinely took your word. You can only assume the best of your husband and what he seems to be planning as you trudge back to your room confused.

Your father knows how to celebrate - whether it is marriage, birthday, or even a funeral he has never failed to plan the most suitable occasions.

You are hitched into a tight, colourful gown that was made specially for you. This explains why you don’t complain when the strings are pulled in a slightly painful way, when the emergency embroidering needle pokes you a couple of times or even when you’re beginning to feel a little self conscious. What will Feyd think?

At that moment, you catch a glimpse of your reflection - why are you so concerned about him? At the beginning of the union, you were so well versed in how to be a good wife and princess that you had no time to consider your own feelings. You could only follow the schedule. Yet in such a short time he’s managed to chip you down into the scared little girl that you’ve always been and can never deny. It’s embarrassing. You’re embarrassed for yourself.

He’s given you too many different kinds of signals to allow you to consider his true motives, which completely throws you off after the short encounters from yesterday.

This morning, he greeted you swiftly before going to prepare as if last night never happened.

You scoff, looking down at your ring and brushing your thumb over the jewel now. He’s playing with your feelings. Clearly this is just a honeymoon stage for him: prepare you to continue the Harkonnen line, and then leave you in Giedi Prime to fend for yourself with a whole new nation awaiting you.

You’re just a prize to him.

“Your Royal Highness?”

You turn around hastily. Your handmaiden awaits with shoes in her hands, looking up at you with concern.

“Are you okay?” She continues, handing you the shoes gently.

“I am content. Why shouldn’t I be? I am married to the Na-Baron and joining our nations in the process, which will benefit everyone.” You can’t see how hasty your answer was, how automatic it seemed. It was the only feasible reason to marry the Na-Baron, since true love was not a possible idea anymore in the Reverend Mothers’ breeding program.

Your handmaiden nods feebly, allowing you to sit down and hand the shoes back to her. She’s slipping them onto your feet before a much more quieter question hastily escapes her mouth.

“Are you sure that’s all?”

You blink.

You’re about to open your mouth to speak, to try and organise your emotions with someone who isn’t your unpredictable newlywed.

The door opens and your father strides in cheerily, much to your frustration.

“Come on, dear. The table is set and everybody will be seated soon.”

You don’t say anything. You don’t do anything but what you’re told.

Right now, you just need to listen to your previous training and avoid Feyd Rautha. He’s only trying to follow his own rules too.

You walk with your father, arms linked firmly as the two of you approach the large dining hall. It has been decorated top to bottom in lavish jewels that shine, ribbons that wrap around the entire room and lanterns hanging in corners, feebly illuminating the already bright room. However, when it darkens, they will provide a dim light for a more relaxed atmosphere. You’re not phased by any of this, your father has been planning this ceremony since you could walk. Even though some believe your planet is more ‘backwards’, there is still one similar goal - providing heirs to the throne. You shouldn’t be standing alone once your reign starts, as believed by all the Reverend Mothers who have also instilled this idea into your father.

Along comes Feyd Rautha, the Na-Baron, looking for a suitable wife to continue the Harkonnen lineage and help him rule - it’s almost too perfect. The Reverend Mothers’ were onto this completely.

You only look around, a blank expression pasted onto your face. It’s clear as day how bored you are, which prompts a remark from your father.

“Has he said anything to you?” His tone is deep with suspicion. He eyes you carefully, his brows furrowed in concern.

“What?”

“The Na-Baron. Has he upset you, my dear?” You abruptly stop in your footsteps, meeting your father’s gaze.

“No, father. It’s fine. It’s nothing at all.” You shake your head dismissively, sighing and wringing your hands together now.

“You will get used to it - that’s the part that strengthens your marriage. Getting through the hardships and coming to face your situation with a heart of gold, the one that I’ve raised you to have.” He smiles at you fondly, pinching your cheek gently.

Although his words don’t seem to comfort you, you still smile back and nod goodbye as you walk down the long hall to reach your seat.

In the traditional manner of your nation, the bride and groom sit on opposite ends of the large, winding table that stretches from one end of the room to the other. This gives you plenty of time to enjoy the lack of the Na-Baron’s presence, as he seems to trick your mind everytime he is near you.

You take your seat, sitting upright in the grand, wooden chair. It’s hard to get comfortable, forcing you into position for the entirety of the dinner.

Feyd has now entered the room. His stride is intimidating, emitting solidity and power. He’s dressed in an all black uniform once more, but his ring is clear on his finger as he pulls his chair out from across the hall. You’re able to see the subtle glint, which almost makes you want to change your mind. Maybe you’re just assuming the worst.

However, you never knew what to expect with the Reverend Mothers and their underlying sinister motives. For now, you choose to avoid him and carry on with your marriage as calmly as possible. As if it were simply just a business negotiation.

He acknowledges you carefully, nodding towards you before settling himself in his own chair. You only nod back clumsily and cease all contact from there.

Guests arrive slowly. Friends from aristocratic families and governors are the majority, but there are still many people who were invited due to their hard work and contributions to society recorded recently. You make sure to greet them all grandly, smiling and allowing them to shower you with compliments. The Na-Baron stood beside you, watching you intently as you interact with everyone in sight. He doesn’t say a word, his jaw tense and teeth grind together as he watches with lidded eyes.

You falter under his gaze for a moment, but stiffen and keep your composure. If this is how he was going to play, then you were just going to trap him in your own game.

For the rest of the celebration, you avert your gaze away from the Na-Baron. Right now, your main focus is the people and celebrating your nation as well as the marriage.

The meal goes swimmingly - empty courses and platters of food now litter the grand table after such a long feast. So long that by the time you’d finished, the sun had set. You focus on swallowing oddly shaped lumps of food, trying not to choke on even the smallest crumb from the searing gaze of Feyd Rautha.

Although, even when you turn to the most obscure corners, seats and groups of people - Feyd’s eyes are glued to you. His dark eyes blend with his pupils, creating some kind of animalistic glint when the lights reflect in his enlarged pupils. You can almost feel two bruises forming into your back from the intensity of his glare.

Feyd isn’t hurt, he’s not injured or scratched - but he’s been cut deep. So deep that he’s been searching from the origin of this seething pain since this morning; he almost destroyed his room with the pure frustration bubbling within. He knows it has to do with you. You’re the only woman who’s managed to sway him so strongly that his defences have been drawn back in hopes of some sort of victory.

However, tonight is leaving him with anything but victory as he can’t psychically tear his eyes away from you without feeling tortured. Even if you seem to feel the opposite.

You’re so carefree; you talk to the guests with ease and float around the hall in your gorgeous gown that he just wants to rip to shreds. He can’t bear with his facade of yours.

That’s when he decides he’s going to end it. Right here, right now.

You’re in the middle of a conversation when, over the chatter and laughter, you hear it.

Charging footsteps across the hall. You cannot deny who it is, and you’re grasping for any idea of what to say when he now stands beside you.

“My wife.” He declares, unbothered by the concerning throttle filled charge from seconds ago. His voice is sudden, hoarse like usual and rough around the edges.

You’re at a loss for words, smiling timidly at the couple you were just talking to as he now takes your arm firmly and links it around his own. When you finally look up at him, he’s not smiling. He’s unreadable right now.

The cool fabric of his black cloths rub against your skin, barely covered by the sheer fabric of your sleeves.

“My husband.” You nod at the couple, who hastily bow to him.

For the rest of the night, he’s attached to you like a bodyguard. He doesn’t talk, doesn’t smile and does not look at you once. The only sense of security seems to be the arm still linked with yours.

“Why did you do that?”

He pauses when you tear your arm away from him, staying still in his position as you create distance between the two of you.

“Who do you think you are? Do you think you can- can give me so many different ideas about you? Is that okay? Is it, my lord?” Your voice trips and stumbles as you struggle to even consider what you’re saying as the words fall out of your mouth with no regard for the Na-Baron.

“I don’t understand you! I know it’s been such a short time- and you cannot seem to talk to me- but I just need to know what your intentions are! I am married to you! I deserve to know!” You continue, pausing to gasp for air and let your shaky breaths fill the large, empty room of yours.

The celebrations had died down and the Na-Baron had decided to walk you to your room. Yet on the way there, your tears seemed to form and burst the minute the two of you were locked away in your room.

“My lady..” he murmurs, approaching you slowly. You’re crying, sniffling and backing away with every step he takes.

You’re so desperate to get away from him, but at the same time you’re dying to just throw something at him.

With too many thoughts rushing through your head, the thought never occurs to you of where you were actually going with your unsteady backwards footsteps.

“My lady.” He’s much closer than you realised. You attempt to back up further, but meet resistance with your wardrobe. A strong arm now blocks your last method of escape, caging you against the wardrobe.

He has you cornered. His eyes watch you intently, plush lips parted slightly as he breathes hard.

“You have bewitched me, changed me for what I am. I am no longer a warrior, no longer the Na-Baron since the moment I saw you. I knew that I was to be your husband, but I also knew that as a woman so capable and beautiful - I did not deserve you.”

His face has contorted and twisted into something entirely different; jaw tense with anticipation, eyes soft and pleading as they look at you directly. He’s waiting for you to say something, anything.

You’re in utter shock. This must be the most words he’s said since meeting you, but you’re hanging on to every word. Looking up at him with so many emotions swimming through your eyes that it’s like a turbulent sea.

He exhales, before continuing to speak.

“But I want you. I want you to be mine - my wife.” He sucks in a breath after saying this, as if it pains him somehow to spill such a secret. His brow line furrows in frustration as he attempts to explain, “We barely know each other, but all I know is that there’s been something about you that I ache for. Do you understand? You play with my feelings, my lady. You confuse me, anger me and entice me all at once. A warrior like I shouldn’t feel this way, he shouldn’t let his guard down for a woman. But that is what I’m willing to do right now in order to make my intentions clear.”

As he whispers this, he offers a hand to you carefully. Feyd now watches you intently, waiting for your response.

The room is dim, slithers of moonlight drag across the room in strange rays, casting a glow on the Na-Baron. He’s utterly pitiful in this moment, the moon now bringing to light his vulnerability.

You let out a jagged breath, desperately searching for words to say. When you can’t seem to find any, you bring your hand to his slowly. Your fingers intertwine and clasp each other firmly - an invitation. His hand is cold, calloused and engulfs your own.

You look up to him only to find that another layer has seemed to vanish, his dark eyes now gaze at you longingly. They trail over your dress, and you can almost hear the cogs ticking in his mind.

You swallow thickly, before letting out a hushed murmur, “Are you attempting to undress me with your eyes, my Lord?” There’s a bit of humour to it as a ghost of a smile graces your lips, but it’s overcome by that suddenly dry feeling in your throat and newfound, carnal want for Feyd Rautha.

“If I wanted to, your dress would be in ruins by now, my Lady.” He may banter with you, but there’s also some concern hidden beneath. Do you want him to touch you? What if you don’t like it?

Yet, with a small shrug, you respond.

“I won’t stop you, if that seems to be what we both want.”

His eyes widen slightly, the rush of giddiness that he would usually feel after winning a battle seems to flood his senses. It’s shameful how he now lets go of your hand to run both of them down your waist. It’s deliberately slow. Teasing, even.

“The ties are in the back, Feyd.” You urge, prompting him to move his hands to your back and begin to remove your dress. He’s still lightheaded from the rush of sensations encapsulating his mind, but he’s able to force out his question.

With his arms wrapped around your waist to reach your back, his face is buried in the crook of your neck now. His hot breath sends shivers down your spine as he speaks.

“Do you like this dress?” You can feel his lips against your neck now as he talks, but sense him holding back. He’s waiting for the right moment.

You shake your head.

He instantly rips the drawstring of your corset, it’s deliciously animalistic as he tugs it off and allows himself to get a good look at you. His eyes wander hungrily across your body, glancing up at your face as he searches for any reaction.

You’re completely frozen, overwhelmed by the different sensations rushing through your mind: the cold air on your bare skin, his warm, shallow breaths as they leave patches of heat on your body and his intense, unrelenting gaze.

“Do you want this?”

There’s a pause as you attempt to muster any words out of your dry throat. You finally swallow any anxiety, before answering in a whisper.

“Yes, I do.”

His lips are so soft as they push against yours, plush and comforting in contrast to his rough grip on your waist and back to pull you in as close as possible. You don’t retort, arching yourself into him and reaching a desperate arm to wrap around his neck. His hands are large, calloused and cool to the touch as they press into your skin hard. It only pushes you further into him, moaning into the kiss at the pleasurable pain.

Suddenly, you pull away to gasp for air only to be met with dark, pleading eyes that seem to beg you to stay.

“I.. I want to..” you’re a little out of breath, flushed and nervous as you place both hands on his firm chest. Your fingertips trace over the cloth lightly, but ultimately reach his buttons and claw at them hungrily. Your efforts are futile as you’re too enveloped by lust to register how to unbutton his clothes, leading him to place a hand on yours to guide you slowly. Button by button, he reveals himself to you.

His skin is pale, smooth as you run a tentative hand over his chest. His heartbeat is rapid, his breathing is strained as his gaze is fixed on you. He’s got a chiseled body, unscathed and untouched for a warrior. You can only let out a shaky breath as he begins to guide you to the bed, a hand cupping your face.

You’re not thinking straight, your mind finally coming to a halt when you realise your situation. He’s on top of you now, on both knees as he leans over to stroke your face, which has been frozen with shock.

“My lady..” Feyd murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead. He’s surprisingly gentle, but you can feel is erection pressing against your stomach as he’s worshipping your beauty.

You squirm under his grip, strong hands gliding over your neck and shoulders attempting to make you wait. But you’re becoming greedy, you want him now.

A small whine escapes your lips as you try to create some kind of friction, which causes him to smile. It’s a smirk. Cocky and teasing as it spreads across his lips.

“You’re desperate, my lady, aren’t you?” His voice is still low, hoarse as he tries to not lose his focus from the slight tingles of pleasure the friction is providing him. He wants to engross himself in the moment before ravishing you, no woman has been so vulnerable in his grip like this before.

He leans in, his gaze trailing along your features as he searches his prey for weak spots. His mouth lands on your neck, sucking on the delicate skin hungrily. You can’t remember what he’d said before, plagued by the newfound sensation of his wet saliva cooling the hickey tainting your skin.

You don’t even want to answer, a sigh escaping your lips at the pop of his mouth as he pulls away from your neck. A small, desperate whisper is all you can force out before you try to move your hand down to your thighs. It’s grabbed by his own and pinned back into the mattress.

“Don’t over-exert yourself, my lady.” He’s still smirking as he begins to steady himself at your entrance, but is just as desperate as you are to get his fill.

Your thighs are pushed apart with his spare hand, allowing him to let out a satisfied groan at the sight of you. Without warning, his hand lets go of your wrist to find your clit. His fingers brush against it softly, caressing a soft moan out of you which only prompts him to continue much harsher. The sounds are obscene as he toys and teases you, only aiding his own pleasure as he watches you clench around nothing.

The tip of his dick presses against your entrance, forcing you to attempt to push out your hips in hopes of fulfilment. You’re unable to move properly, his cold hands tighten around your body. As you writhe in his grip, your gaze flickers up to meet his. There’s a suspicious glint in his dark pupils, paired with the subtle upturn of his parted lips.

Suddenly, sharp sensation erupts within your body, one that tries to push your thighs together to only have them wrap around his firm waist. You can feel the pleasurable stretch as Feyd only savours you inch by inch as he pushes himself in as far as he can. Your skin prickles with heat, spreading across your body like a rash as you find yourself flushed and gasping for air as he pulls out suddenly.

It’s not for long, pushing his dick inside quickly again just to hear your staggered cries. Your body seems to move on its own, rocking yourself against him as he pushes in and out. He’s intoxicating, altering your mind to primal instincts.

His movements become sloppier, his climax becoming more inevitable with every thrust. Feyd begins to lose composure, plump lips parted and panting as his thumb still rubs your clit forcefully. You’re both growing impatient, his begging now becoming audible as the words stumble out of his mouth.

“Please.. please…” you’d never known the Na-Baron to be the kind of warrior to say ‘please’, but you’d driven him over the edge.

You’re also growing louder, whimpering and whining for your climax to come quick and hard. You want it, and you want it now.

You’re the first to come, crying as your eyes roll into the back of your head. Your back arches into him as an explosion of pleasure races through your body, tingling through your lower abdomen. However, as the waves of climax subside, you become increasingly more vulnerable to Feyd Rautha still pounding into you.

It only takes him a few more thrusts, but your arm is released from his grip as you cling onto his back. Your nails tear at his skin, the pangs of borderline pain bringing tears to your eyes at the sheer ecstasy of it all.

You hear his breath hitch in your ear, his mouth opens with a gasp as he buries himself inside you for his release. His cum is searing hot, filling your insides hastily as his chest rises up and down rapidly. Feyd doesn’t move for a moment, processing what just happened. But after a few seconds, when your hands loosen and droop down his spine as they’re overcome by fatigue, his arms wrap around you slowly.

He’s embracing you.

You’re both hot to touch, skin slick with sweat as your bodies press against each other. Yet, both of you don’t find any disgust in this. Instead, it’s replaced by a sense of comfort. The certainty that you’re his Lady, as he is your Lord.

#feyd rautha fanfic #feyd rautha #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd x reader #austin butler #smut #dune 2 #dune 2024 #dune part two #dune part 2 #dune fanfiction

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water-to-drink · 6 months ago

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How They Became Attracted to You pt3

(Characters): Cyno, Childe, & Ninngaung

(Synopsis): First meetings with the most popular or influential students at the academy and how their love for you blossomed

(Tags/Warnings): gn!reader, school au, reader is an artist, reader gets punched in the face, reader is close to their family, reader has siblings, weeb!reader, weeb!Cyno, reader likes Cyno’s jokes, (if I missed anything lmk)

(Word Count): 1.3k

(A/n): Had this in the drafts for a while

Part 1 Part 2

🐕 Was the friend that Sethos introduced you to. Part of the school’s discipline committee, Cyno takes his job seriously and has been told that his stoic demeanor can be a bit intimidating. When he was first introduced to you he saw that you were a bit nervous and so decided to break the ice by telling you a joke, he expected the usual grimace or confused look but instead he was met with an amused chuckle

🐕 That was the moment you and Cyno became friends

🐕 Cyno would stay up late writing new jokes just to tell them to you just to deliver it to you, and you would laugh everytime. This makes Cyno’s ego grow a bit bigger, he’s more willing to say his jokes to groups of people as long as you’re in said group. It didn’t matter how many exasperated sighs he gets, he’ll still deliver the material to you, just to hear your chuckle. He didn’t know but he loved the way you laugh

🐕 Cyno can’t explain it but he feels a pull towards you; whenever he would see you down the hallway he wants to talk to you, but you only talk to him when Sethos is there with you. Maybe the two of you are close enough to talk to each other without Sethos being the chain that links the two of you together. So when Cyno saw you at outside drawing in the plaza he snuck up on you to see your sketch

🐕 Its so hard boiled! Cyno couldn’t hold the gasp that left his mouth, alerting you to his presence. You quickly pressed the sketchbook up against your chest

“You read ████████?” Cyno excitedly asked probably showing more emotion than what you usually see

“Uhh, yeah…”

“Why didn’t you say anything, I love the manga and anime!”

🐕 Just like that you two talked about the series, from anything to the characters to how the anime differs from the manga. You two lost track of time until a teacher yelled at you to get to class. You and Cyno talked more whenever you two have the free time, but even if your schedules don’t align often Cyno still watches over you. When he’s making his patrols around the campus he will make sure that you’re safe and no delinquents try to harm you. Especially a certain ginger guy from Snezhnaya

🐋 Unlike Itto, Childe is a delinquent by definition. Constantly getting into fights with others, skipping class, talking back to teachers. The whole 9 yards, even a recluse like you know about all of his misdeeds. Just how did you meet such a violent person?

🐋 It all happened one day when you were going to work from school, you decided to take a shortcut. The shortcut just so happened to be gang territory and thus you were accosted by some delinquents from another school. Just when it looked like you were about to be mugged he came in and instantly began to fight them. Seeing the look of manic glee on the ginger’s face sent shivers down your spine, you need to get out of here fast! You tried to run as far as you but your face collided with a fist

🐋 Coming back to consciousness you find yourself on a park bench, your face hurting like hell, and your head on the lap of Childe. You instantly freak out and began pleading

“Please don’t hit me, I don’t have any money!”

“I’m not gonna hit a cute little thing like you, I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” Childe winked. “And besides you shouldn’t be going through these parts, it’s gang territory.”

“Ohh, thank you. Wait let me thank you for protecting me!”

🐋 You brought him to your family’s cafe and after your family was caught up to speed on the situation you all showed your gratitude by giving him multiple treats. As Childe ate the treats he saw how close you were with your family, your bickering reminded him of his family’s bickering. He couldn’t help the chuckle that left his mouth, you and and your family turned towards the ginger

“I’m sorry, you all just reminded me of my family.” He admitted

“Your family?”

“Yeah, we’re really close.”

🐋 You took a seat and began talking to him, you soon realized that he was a caring guy who just had a compulsion for violence. You thought about something to help him

“Maybe you should join the rugby team?” You suggested. “Ju-just to take your anger out on something other than fighting!”

🐋 After that night Childe went to rugby tryouts and was accepted into the team, it was the best thing that happened to him. His reputation has vastly improved, people don’t steer clear of him anymore, and most of all he finally has something to take his violent tendencies out on. No matter how many girls or guys try to go out with him, he would always reject them because they’re not you. They don’t make the violent compulsion less intense, they didn’t see him as a person before he joined the rugby team, none of that

🐋 You are the only one he wants

Ninggaung

🔶 The student council president has eyes everywhere and so when someone as seemingly unassuming as caught the attention of some of her peers in the council Ninggaung was curious on who you are

🔶 So she had some of her informants, students from the middle school, follow you around. They brought up the usual stuff about you. You don’t belong to any clubs, instead you opt to work at a cafe far from any main street. It seemed that her informants have taken a liking to you, which doubled the young lady’s curiosity

🔶 Ningguang would unknowingly stumble upon you and your work. One day after school she was doing her routine inspection of the building, she entered the art room and saw a single canvas on an easel. It was late so the art club members should have gone home by now, so whose work is this? Taking a closer look at the piece it fills the young woman with a sense of nostalgia, reminding her of the time when she would walk along the beach selling seashells when she was young. Ningguang was taken out of her walk down memory lane when she heard the door slide open, she turned to she the oh so popular you

“This drawing, is this for the upcoming competition?” Ningguang inquired

“Ye-yes. It’s based on the Ashcan school of art, it shows the poor middle class people…” You nervously explained under Ninggaung’s sharp gaze

“Hmm, and where is scene from?”

“It’s supposedly from a small fishing village.”

“It reminds me of the village I grew up in,” Ninggaung walked towards the door before stopping and turning back. “I do hope that you win the competition.”

🔶 After that day Ninggaung grew to like you, as someone from a low income family she knows what it’s like to work your ass off to make your dream come true. For her it’s to be able to attend the academy and become student council president despite the circumstances

🔶 Ningguang would come in and ask to watch you paint, you nervously agreed and soon began to like you. Hearing your voice soothed her and erased all the stress being council president brings, but having you by her side makes the role a lot more enjoyable

🔶 What isn’t enjoyable for her is learning that many of her peers in the student council have an infatuation with you. No matter, Ningguang has her ways

#genshin x reader #genshin fanfic #genshin impact x reader #genshin x female reader #genshin x gn reader #genshin x male reader #genshin x gender neutral reader #genshin x f!reader #genshin x m!reader #cyno x reader #childe x reader #ningguang x reader #genshin school au #genshin academy au

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onlyseokmins · 10 months ago

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ash and cinders • l.s.m.

Pairing: lee seokmin x fem!reader Genres: smut (minors dni!), angst, royalty!au, fantasy!au, gods/goddesses!au Warnings: magic, mentions of blood, war, cruelty, tyranny - all that good stuff, mentions of religion (au-specific), violence (i.e. suggestion of murder), (death) threats, and possible gaslighting 💃🏻 which just means a minor power play between them at first okay 😬 i promise it's not that bad lmao i'm just paranoid, lots of making out, oral (fem. receiving), lil bit of temp play tbh, little bit of choking, uh I wrote this so long ago and just finished it so lmk if i forgot anything?? it's just basically me attempting to write prettily uwu WC: 4.24k A/N: soooo, this has been rotting in my drafts FOREVER!!! but yeah seokmin is my most darling, favorite boy i've ever stanned anyways ofc i couldn't help but use his elle magazine photos (yes that's how long this has been ROTTING) ahhhhh - ahem anyways this goes hand-in-hand with Mischief Maker so definitely recommend checking that one out too! heheh <3

He only stayed during the night.

When the blanket of darkness covered even the moon with a hazy layer of clouds, leaving tiny twinkling stars for a traveler’s guide. The fire once dancing in the hearth dwindled down to scarlet embers barely emitting enough heat to fill the large quarters.

Not that it mattered.

Even as you lay naked amidst the silken sheets strewn upon the grand bed, the thought of your lover’s return alone was enough to engulf your body in a flame of burning anticipation that settles and simmers between your legs.

He had been gone far too long. A lengthy patrol around the surrounding territories had taken him away from your embrace. Although every morning the sun’s rays tickled your face as a sweet greeting and bathed you in a radiant light through the day, nights without him were by far the worst.

Cold.

Lonely.

Dark.

On usual accounts, it was a grievous crime to keep the queen waiting. But you would forgive him for anything, wouldn’t you? It’s exemplified in the way he bursts through the doors without so much as a courteous knock that even your most trusted servants must abide by, water droplets dripping from his auburn bangs.

Despite the eagerness to see you as soon as possible, he refused to step foot into your chambers when reeking of blood after fierce combat and soiled with dirt from travel. You always protested. The gilded throne you reigned from, the heavy crown upon your head, and even the bed you shared — all were built upon those very foundations. But your lover insisted on only showcasing the glorious side of things to you.

The gold.

The diamonds.

The luxuries.

All which adorned you by day. Glowing, glistening, and shining. Gems and jewels, fabrics woven from the highest quality quickly reduced to layers that only became a hindrance once it came time for his descent upon you. For you were absolutely beautiful clothed — this he very well knew — but when your whole body was bared naked for him and him alone? You were truly the definition of divine.

Those who dared to speak ill of you tried to foster ridiculous claims. Critical of the wealth in your possession. Mocked what they presumed was a lack of ambition. Wailed that you were a witch. A young monarch on an undeniable downfall to tyranny, one that would lead them all to hellfire and ruin.

Anything to validate that you were not worthy of the royal seal emblazoned across the lands in honor of a valiant leader with a royal bloodline still running through your veins.

Hypocrisy at its finest when you were the reason that they were bestowed or able to retain property linked to their names, money in their pockets, and a legacy to live by under your prosperous reign. Arrogant to cast down the very thing that elevated them to their current standing. But their greed would eventually come back to bite them. One day.

Even the religious sect whispered lowly, hidden in the shadows of the grand temples. Doubts that the king actually held a shred of affection for his partner — if the seldom visits seen visiting your chambers only when night falls were of any substantial evidence to go by. That he only lay with you out of duty, shackled and bound to an imposter who was never a faithful servant to the gods like they were.

Because not one of them truly believed that a god could ever favor, let alone love, a human.

You knew you were a savior to as many as you were also an enemy. A hindrance and a threat. A bold refusal to control or be controlled. There was nothing more to do other than lead your people as fairly as you judged.

All the preposterous assumptions infuriated him — your devoted knight, unorthodox husband, and scandalous lover. But he manages to temper his fiery rage out of respect for you. Behind your ruthless, steely intent is a righteous and kind heart that always calls out for him, now fully vocalized and embellished by the sweet voice he's missed hearing dearly.

“Seokmin,” you murmur, grasping his warm hand once he's within reach.

An entity of many epithets with an existence worth a millennium beyond comprehension and full of worship. Yet his favorite phonetic combination he'd ever heard was the one that fell breathlessly from your lips. The closest the human tongue could get to a god’s true name. And his second favorite would be yours, the syllables rumbling in his chest like a song and you smiled in contentment.

He was back, he was home, and he was yours.

Even in the darkness, Seokmin glowed. The ethereal radiance surrounding the broad expanse of sinewy muscles easily proved his lofty status as the great god of the sun. But it was also his eyes, flickering with the unmistakable presence as one of many deities. The kind of power that has managed to refrain from turning you into ash and cinders.

Whether it's attributed to your resilience, a ruler born to stand out and lead, or an entirely different reason — or a mixture of all — Seokmin isn't really sure. He's not the first to appear in a human vessel nor the last, with at least twelve of his known brothers wandering the mortal world for various reasons.

He wonders if he's the first to bow his head willingly, though, holding back his more devious and destructive tendencies. To pay back tenfold the worship he's received since the beginning of time all to you — a mere human — yet nonetheless, his queen.

The event of swearing his undying fealty feels like it was yesterday. For a being that persists forever, it may as well have been that short ago. Every memory he etches and sears into his mind for eternity consists of you, and only you.

How could he forget? How was he supposed to bury away the confident smirk that graced your lovely lips? Would he ever not recall the first time he bent the knee in such desperation? Not for a trick or as a dark seduction that tumbles into a dreadful demise, a conquest for carnage, and an abuse of his powers. But instead for the good of humanity — however short of an era it may be.

And maybe… for more. One that his heart fears to admit, for it does not beat within his chest, but in a plane beyond the reach of mortals.

"Would you kill for me?"

"For you, anything," the god affirms. "I have laid waste to kingdoms, countries, empires, and even continents themselves. There is nothing I'm incapable of."

"And if I asked you to behead the entire entourage that has traveled with you?"

"… If it is what you will, then it is simply my command to follow. For you, I am a lone knight at your disposal."

Silken skirts flare out as does your anger when you turn away from the large windows in the tower's tiny excuse of a throne room — hardly fit for the heir — showcasing a brief flash of the lethal dagger strapped to your thigh. "Do you wish for my downfall before I've even risen to the throne? You expect me to be a tyrant, despised by the people I am meant to save? To lead?"

"Do you think I, a god, care what thoughts others conjure up in their silly little minds? I am to act on your behalf, get my hands dirty in lieu of you. No matter how morbid your desires may be."

Stepping closer, you lift his chin with the tip of a dull sword intended to be ornamental. But it may be even deadlier than the one hung at his side, metaphorically sharpened and honed by a rebel princess's innate rage.

His little show of bowing means little with the way he stares straight at you without a shred of respect in those galaxy-filled irises. However, it is the mighty sun god who is taken aback by the hellfire burning in your gaze, hungry and powerful enough to rival his own as you scoff.

"I will show you what kind of queen this land needs, the methods we will follow, and the morals I wish to uphold. You will learn in order to understand them and enforce my will. Not only to help guide the vision I desire but to keep me accountable lest I stray. A critical misstep such as that is when I'll ask you to cut me down. Will you swear to do that for me?"

"… You dare question a god of what he can do? Your tiny, impudent human mind couldn't fathom a sliver of my capability."

"I dare to question what you can't or won't do."

"I told you, there is not a thing beyond my realm of —"

"Leave."

"… Your Highness?"

Painted lips curl in a snarl at the first address of your proper title since his arrival. "Begone, I said! Return when you feel like acting like the god you are, not simply a tool to be harnessed and used at will. Until then, I have no need for you."

Seokmin's jaw drops as you seat yourself back on the throne with a sneer and flick of your wrist for the guard to usher him out.

A challenge.

He's been abandoned many times. Discarded and tossed to the side once his usefulness has been expended. He's left before betrayal can even be thought of — for no one points a blade at a god's back — but never has he been rejected.

It was only the beginning of how you would become many of his 'firsts' and all of his 'lasts'.

Seokmin is lost deep in the memory even with the feeling of your lips curling in a gentle smile against his — a stark contrast to your initial meeting. A nail grazes his chin, digging lightly into the skin to fully bring the god back to the present.

You'd be offended by the habitual spacing out if he hadn't admitted to only getting lost in thoughts of you. Something he'd picked up during the routine patrols away. Though you strive to bring the god out of dwelling in the past when you're sitting right in front of him — the present — and deepen the kiss.

Yet he pulls away to tilt his head. "Do you remember what you offered to me?"

"Have I not offered you my all, my king?"

Charcoal lying dormant in the hearth flares back to life, emitting playful sparks when he chuckles. "After I returned to pledge my loyalty to you."

"Ah, even though I had you wait outside the gates for five days."

"Unfathomable for a god to hang around at the whim of a meager human, isn't it?"

"Meager?"

"To me? Yes."

His warm exhale of amusement feels just like the breeze that fondly brushes your cheeks every morning despite the eternal humidity. It may very well be him because no matter how far away physically from you he is, Seokmin's essence radiates in every sunray that stretches across the grand skies and below.

He is everywhere and everything all the time. But he is here with you tonight once again, kissing the palm you'd placed on his cheek. With mischief flickering like a teasing flame in his eyes, the god brings your hand to his throat, encouraging you to splay your fingers across his Adam's apple.

You free yourself from his light grasp to run them ticklishly up and down the bumps of his vocal cords. The movements of swallowing ripples beneath the light scratch of your nails until he halts you by replacing a veined hand over yours and murmurs, "Squeeze."

"Ah — but I…"

He repeats it again louder when you fail to do as asked, not even daring to move a muscle. Simply staring in almost awe-filled hesitation until he guides you to tentatively do exactly as he states, "You would have done anything to strangle me back then, what has changed?"

"… You know what."

"Tell me," he says it like it's a command, eyes brightening and swirling with an authoritative amber hue though it's all in jest. "Tell me what it is, my queen."

Never one to be deterred, only Seokmin could render you motionless for so long. You do as you're instructed, the gentle pressure applied by your hand around his throat causes auburn eyelashes to flutter. The slight restriction to an airflow that isn't all that necessary for a god's survival has his eyes rolling back before they re-focus on you, half-hidden by hooded eyelids.

"Love," you murmur. For it is the answer to everything, is it not?

"Love," is echoed with a resounding voice that doesn't fully come from the tongue of the man beneath you, but bellows out from an otherworldly essence that surrounds the entire world and beyond. And at the same time, he speaks it so fondly because ultimately, he's addressing it as a title for you.

The god of the sun, as immortal as he might be, has died before. Mortal vessels manage to persevere for a fixed number of years and a feeble human body can only endure so much wear and tear. Yet Seokmin's soul still shines steadily onwards despite the memory of death over and over again lingering… and he unsurprisingly realizes that he wouldn't mind dying like this — by your hand.

Was that love?

But the amount of power, energy, and time, along with the unpredictable wiles of the creator would never guarantee him returning to you. Preservation of this human shell was of the utmost importance, the first time he's ever handled a vessel with care before.

Perhaps that was love.

Rather than be swept up in unpleasantries, he entertains the amusing thought of how much fragility you exercise with him. Having already released your grip far too quickly and instead, fiddle with the untied laces on his loose shirt.

"Love," he repeats, this time as a call in a raspy drawl of his own voice.

"Hm. Or maybe it was… pity."

An eyebrow raises and the corners of Seokmin's mouth twitch upward. "Only my queen would dare to pity a god."

"It was for what you were. And who you weren't. I despise those uppity, repetitive displays of unwavering loyalty that either party can easily discard."

"Like the former king's imperial court."

"Yes."

Your angered hiss is exactly the same as the first time you informed him of your plans to take down your father and his cult. The disgust and rage have barely ebbed even after all the progress made for a better future and as many years that have passed.

Seokmin scans your expressions. He's always admired your spitfire that could rival his own flames. But in times when it burns long enough to possibly exhaust or hurt you, he worries. You're strong — he knows that — so many times he simply becomes the safe space where you can seethe aloud without interruption.

"Would you rather grow dull and be poisoned because someone is not even worth keeping an eye on or the thrill of unpredictability? A constant sword dance that keeps each other on their toes, never deviating gazes from one another."

He smirks. "That sounds familiar."

You think back to earlier days with him. A stubborn royal and an even more stubborn deity. When did the challenging, pointed glares at one another change to simmering looks of desire?

Instead of your swords tangling together in an angry clash over a small matter, it was your tongues after a heated sparring session. How condescension switched to respect to something more passionate… more primal… more intimate.

"Perhaps so. But look at you now — look at how you shine."

His skin indeed glows a bit brighter as he melts further into the soft touch of your palm returning to his cheek. Thumb tracing constellations between the pair of moles on his cheek while your other finger follows the nearly invisible scar below his eye.

"Little blemishes," he had once told you, "even the body of a god bears its flaws after fighting on a battlefield."

You thought they only made him all the more perfect.

"And look at how I've fallen."

As if to demonstrate his murmured words, Seokmin moves at the speed of light — his normal pace — to lie on his back, umber strands of hair spread out like flames of fire against the grandiose bed's silken sheets.

Somehow, he'd positioned you on top of him. Much accustomed to the tiny displays of omnipotence here and there, you remain unbothered. Affectionately, you brush back his bangs. Fiery wisps of hair that seemingly move on their own accord with the amount of power that ripples through their thin fibers.

He might just be the most powerful among his fellow deities and you could wield all of that as your own because he sits obediently in the palm of your hand. Lays dociley among your silken sheets. What he's trying to prove to you — the hold you have over him — immediately enthralled under your spell as you play with his locks and softly whisper, "You're Seokmin. My Seokmin."

Despite your bare chest quite literally in his face, the god waits. Fully clothed in soft linens where he can feel every tempting pulse thundering in your precious mortal body on top of his.

And still, he waits.

His hands don't even reach out as you unlace his shirt. Though he has wrecked and ruined your body in a thrillingly sensual, blistering, and passionate heat of love-making before, tonight he gives himself over to you. Vulnerable and all yours for the taking, watching with faint amusement as you impatiently urge him to shed the rest of his garments.

"My queen."

"My king."

"There is no rush. We have all of eternity."

"Do we?" you breathe out and look him in the eyes as your fingers dance along his inner thigh. "Or is it only you, divine ruler of the everlasting dawn and never-ending night?"

"My graceful moon," Seokmin sighs and distracts you from grasping his weeping shaft, urging you to straddle his legs. You follow his will despite the object of your desires lying neglected between your bodies, coating your stomach in the molten saltiness that drips from it.

"My stars, my sky, my galaxy, my universe." Each title of affection is seared into your skin with a burning kiss to brand your body. Your cheek, your ear, your neck, your shoulder, and your hand. "Without you in it, the world ceases to exist."

"My sun, my warrior, my knight, my shield, and my sword." You repeat a version of your own display of worship and what he means to you — mimicking the same actions across his lithe body. "My love, it would do you good to live in the present with me. Must you think of a dire future so soon?"

"Each inhale of life thus returns an exhale of death. I dread every moment that brings me closer to your end."

"Such morbid thoughts you carry, my darling. Where is the fearless god that took a poisoned arrow to the heart and pulled it out without so much as a flinch?"

"You think me weak when I'd take the blow of any weapon as long as it does not harm you."

The irony when you'd both been struck by invisible, non-lethal darts fired from the god of love's feathered bow. But the terrifying memory of Seokmin taking the assassination attempt in your place causes a rare, but true, fear twisting in your gut. The flash of life before your eyes changed the trajectory of your tactics and your relationship with the god. And as always he reassures you with what he knows to be the truth — for the most part.

"Nothing can hurt me as long as you're alright."

"Then make me your goddess in return so that I will be invincible enough to protect you from harm's wrath too."

"But that… you know I can't," he whimpers, "no matter how much I long to."

A tear trickles down his cheek, crystallizing when it falls. Like many before and well after, all bodily fluids of the god will be found transformed as various tiny diamonds and gems. Tangled within the bedsheets the following morning as they always are and stored away in the queen's treasury.

Seokmin cries, not just at his frustrations, but at how you gingerly hold his hot and hardened length. Heavy in your palm that rubs and strokes it lovingly before sinking down with practiced ease, having already stretched yourself out earlier while waiting. Undulating your hips in slow, controlled circles that make him dizzy with desire. Your words pierce his chest, paining him like no sword that sliced him open could ever compare.

"If fate will not let it happen, then bury me in the ground so I can thrive beneath your warm rays that whisper sweet nothings. Let me smile up at you after winter passes while I bloom brilliantly through spring and long into the heated days of summer. Weave my soul among the stars so I may greet you in the morning and kiss you goodnight every evening. Scatter my ashes into the windy gusts of the north and down the silver rivers flowing south so I may laugh and dance in the skies alongside your sunbeams."

He sobs at the poignant emotional tug of your words, every poetry waxed by your breathy voice punctuated by a tantalizing undulation of your hips. You reassuringly clench around him, foreheads and bodies pressed together, hands clasped tightly in each other's grasp.

The god's chest heaves and the mountains on the eastern border shift to the left. Sometimes the air cools when this occurs but tonight, it shimmers and glistens as if straining against his commands. A hot wave that threatens to distort the very seam of reality itself.

"I will always be yours," you kiss the corner of his trembling lips, "and you mine, my darling god."

"My sweet goddess, my everything… my love."

Seokmin's hips buck up anxiously and you let him lead the pace. Wild thrusts take over as he chases that high, wanting and needing to take you over that peak with him. Your body lays prone against him, along for the jostling ride as the god seeks his own pleasure through and with you. Praises and worship fall from his lips, never failing to be in awe of how your cunt molds and works his cock like a blacksmith shapes an iron rod yet he can bully it as he wants to fit him. Only him.

You were made for the god of the sun.

Golden ichor thrums through his veins, lighting his skin in flashes like the sparks of embers. He's beautiful. Otherworldly. Your lips capture each glowing pulse of godliness that erupts beneath his flesh with a tender peck. He's all yours.

And he was made for you.

When Seokmin plunges into your welcoming warmth that is his alone to claim before he finally succumbs, it's blinding. On the other side of the earth, the sun shines a little brighter. A harsh glint that already emits a sweltering heat from its fiery nature flares even hotter in the blue sky. A blessed priestess looks up in contemplation, waving away the worried maidens who tend to her every need.

You feel his large hands — one presses in a bruising hold between your shoulders, the other on your lower back. Keeping you flush against him, holding your body to his while you welcome inside the scorching spurts of his seed within your womb that feel like lava. Your walls flutter around him and he basks in the feeling of them pulsating as you jerk your hips

"Come," he begs out. It's loud and resounding. More of an instinctual command if anything and your body almost obeys unwittingly, unaware of his intent before he lifts you up with inhuman strength and clarifies, "Up here," and sits you on your rightful throne — his face, "where you deserve, the queen of queens. My queen. My love. My goddess."

He laps at you like a dehydrated dog. Both cleaning you up and creating an even bigger mess. Your thighs squeeze tightly around the sides of Seokmin's head, one hand tugging harshly at his hair and the other mercilessly wrinkling the silk bed sheets. His moans are sweet songs of praise but muffled as he sucks his release out of your cunt only to push it back inside with his tongue. The addition of globs of spit accompanying the still-hot, smeared mess causes your own sounds to grow much louder, writhing on top of him from the sloppy sensations.

Back and forth he repeats this a couple of times, the firm point of his nose stimulating your sore clit in his efforts. And finally, you come undone — spasming on top of Seokmin's chin and suffocating him just like he likes. Breathing and drowning in your essence, the very elixir of life.

"I shall make you mine," he whispers later, dutifully laying your deliciously aching but clean body onto freshened sheets. Your lover is ever so attentive, rarely nearly needing the same amount of aftercare he showers upon you.

For he is a god from the heavens to bestow blessings upon his desired mortal.

"I am already yours."

"But for all of eternity, it shall be so."

Satiated and content, you reach for him. He lovingly takes your hand and presses a kiss to the tip of each of your fingers. "How?"

"The Mother. She's the closest thing we have to the Creator and might be older than the universe itself. There's nothing she doesn't know so I'm sure she'll have the answers I seek."

"Must you leave so soon?"

Seokmin smiles as he pulls the sheets over your shoulders. "The sun never fails to rise, my dear. I will be back before you know it bringing with me tidings of great news."

"I'll be waiting."

Your shared kiss is soft and gentle. Sweet and full of sentiment. Indeed, you always wait for him and the sun god leaves with a full heart of hope. Little does he know, and little do you suspect, the true one lying in wait was the shadowed figure holding a poisoned dagger beneath their cloak.

And so, with the death of a queen so loved by the god of the sun… the prophecy begins.

onlyseokmins: September 2024 ©

#ez.creates #svthub #svt.smut #dokyeom smut #seokmin smut #dk smut #lee seokmin smut #lee dokyeom smut #smut #svt smut #seventeen smut #kpop smut

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jenchan-writingmultis · 1 year ago

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Twisted Wonderland Boys x Fem Reader in their respective Fairytales (Series)

Malleus Part ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

A/n: Malleus <3 Enjoy reading! I had fun on this one

A few fun facts AFTER you read: - Maleficent Malleus did indeed, kill you, that’s the reason why your soul was transported to his realm in the first place. - I was planning on three endings, but settled for the fluffy scenario, I’ll tell you about the two. - Reader (you) was going to meet your original Malleus in the realm of subconscious where Maleficent Malleus trapped you in, while I liked this idea, I didn't know how to properly execute it, so it stayed in drafts. Original Malleus fighting off/saving you from Maleficent Malleus. - Second one was mindbreak, I was going to make Malleus more merciless here cause to him, in Fae, if their fated pair rejected them, then he will force his way into your heart, carving his love for you by any means possible. - Third ending was, you get to go back to your original Malleus by the sacrifices of the Maleficent Malleus' retainers and father, (Sebek, Baur, Silver and Lilia) but I didn't like this much. - I also mixed both Maleficent and Malleus' personality so if he's OOC, it's most likely cause I wanted to make it accurate to the fairytale classic too. Honestly this one had SO much potential to be a full au aside from being a oneshot really, If I have the time, I'd delve deeper in the idea.

Warning: Possibly OOC, possessiveness, I haven’t finished Tartarus, so expect a lot of mischaracterizations, Blood mention, Cussing, imprisonment, possible mention of former death of your original body (reader)

List of Villains interconnecting with each character:

Malleus - Maleficent

Vil - Evil Queen

Credits: Kaomoji for line dividers, Official Twisted Wonderland Cards on the arts.

Masterlist

Previous Part (Idia)

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Malleus:

"The great Malleus, Sebek would have scolded you multiple times for not addressing Malleus as 'Your Royal Highness.' If it weren’t for the fact that you were stuck and imprisoned somewhere in the dark, cold basement, you would have listened to him. Where the hell were you?"

You woke up to Sebek’s rigorous screaming and Silver’s blurry figure. You were chained, and blinking your dizziness away, you looked up to see the two of them. However, they were wearing something different: a knight-like outfit in Diasomnia’s colors.

“How dare you try to infiltrate the Young Master’s territory!” Sebek shouted, almost making your ears ring cause he screamed in your ear, his hand gripping your hair to make you stare into him. Silver grabbed Sebek's arm and shook his head. “Sebek, that’s enough. We shouldn’t roughhouse the suspect.” As always, Silver sounded like a pacifist to you.

But none of that right now, you didn’t know why you were wearing some kind of princely outfit either, a tan-colored tunic with a crimson robe draped behind your back, it seemed like your “arrest” was just recent.

“What’s going on?” you managed to speak, your throat incredibly dry. You coughed and pushed yourself to pull away from Sebek. “I don’t know why you guys locked me up, but this isn’t funny.”

“What kind of ignorance-!” Sebek was more than fuming now, he wanted to teach you a lesson, but he decided to go against it, relaxing himself before he did something bad to you. “You were locked here because you tried to harm Young Master,” Silver, who remained silent throughout the whole ordeal, nodded in agreement. “You didn’t succeed, of course, but you are still considered a threat to the land, and the king himself.”

“What? That’s absurd!” you exclaimed, finding it surprising that you out of all people could hurt Malleus, trying to tug away from those chains that were grinding on your skin, “I’m magicless, I can’t possibly harm Hornton!” “Address Young Master Properly! You WILL call him Your Highness!” Sebek corrected, hand resting on his hip, dangerously close to the sword holstered there.

“Sebek, don’t you recognize me?” You were starting to get frustrated, along with the confusion, frustration was seeping in your mind as both of them weren’t listening, Silver was looking at you like you were an enemy, despite stopping Sebek from hurting you.

“You two are certainly rowdy” A rather rough voice emerged from the darkness. A smaller man with red highlights in his dark hair stepped forward. He had a mask hanging from his hip and looked quite intimidating. Wait, was that Lilia?

“Lilia!” You called out, feeling a bit happy to see someone you know that might listen to reasoning. “I expect you to address me as general, at least that’s what you humans could do.”

The moment Lilia showed up, Sebek went silent, backing away from you. Now Lilia approached where you were seated. "Did you hit your head? I heard everything. Acting ignorant won't help you, princess," his voice carried a hint of mockery, causing you to sigh in frustration.

“I swear on the sevens, I’m not lying! I don’t remember hurting Mal- Your Highness like that” you denied once again. It was starting to hurt your back, being forced into this bent position. You decided to rest against the cold wall, shuddering at its chilliness. Had it always been this cold in Briar Valley?

“Enough, I despise hearing repeated excuses, If you want to convince any of us, it’s better if you talk in front of the court then” Lilia stood up, walking behind you he undid the chains but not your handcuffs, grabbing you by the cuffs he pulls you up swiftly, causing you to stumble a bit. “Ouch…” you mutter as you’re pushed out, the door opening, and as you guessed, you are down the basement.

The steps were incredibly grueling, with Lilia pushing you and causing you to stumble. What kind of sadistic torture was this?! The clothes you were wearing, meant for traveling long distances, now felt like a heavy burden, dragging you down further.

After a few minutes of walking up to about a thousand steps, your legs finally gave up, causing you to collapse on the floor, but instead of feeling pain, you felt a pair of hands grab your shoulders, pulling you up.

“Are you alright?” Silver asked, you nodded staring into his eyes, you can tell he lost the image of you being an enemy, with the way you’re already tired from walking up stairs made you seem like a helpless maiden.

“We’re almost close, don’t worry” he reassured you, helping you to your feet before Sebek or Lilia grew impatient.

Reaching the end of the stairway with a faint light outside, Silver went up first, and you were happy reaching outside, walking with more effort since you desperately wanted to go out, embracing the light that was emitting outside.

The bright light gradually faded as you adjusted your eyesight to it, wow, while it was brighter than the basement you were under, it certainly didn’t have much lighting, it only had little glowing orbs that provided light.

"Is this the princess who attempted to assassinate me?” Malleus himself was seen sitting down on the throne. Sebek forced your head down, making you kneel, while Lilia and Silver did the same. "Yes, young master!" Sebek replied, while you were magicless, yes, but you could feel the tension of the magic seeping throughout the air, it was making you breathless.

“Interesting, it was commendable that you went to Briar Valley alone to try to duel me” he says almost nonchalantly, you try to look up, but Sebek was keeping your head down, which caused you to get pissed. “your pride seems to have bitten more than you can chew.” Noticing your agitation, he ordered Sebek to release your head, making him let your head go as you looked up to the throne.

“Malleus, please, I don’t recall anything here! I didn’t do anything- “

“I know”

That took you by surprise, causing you to stiffen as the discomfort in your knees grew from kneeling. “What?”

Instead of answering you, he rose from his seat, his robes cascading gracefully to the floor with each purposeful step. His gaze, glowing with a fierce green intensity, exuded authority. The sight would have struck you as ethereal, especially considering this was Malleus, the man you had fallen for in your real life.

"I always envied how my other self seemed to dote on you,"finally answering, his magic swiftly uncuffed you from the handcuffs that had been grinding against your wrists. “I find myself wanting you in this world, my very own child of man” his smile was scaring you, even Sebek, Silver and Lillia seemed confused.

“Hold on, Malleus” Lilia interrupted him, keeping himself respectful of the new king, “What do you mean other you?” he asked, confusion evident in his expression as Malleus rubbed the markings of the handcuffs on your wrist. “I transported the soul of another into the princess’ body.”

Malleus seemed to not understand the gravity of the situation, he kidnapped a soul, and worst off, he might have killed off the original body’s owner.

“What’s going on” you asked, wanting to pull away from Malleus’ gentle hands but he kept his grip on you firm. “You know that’s the opposite of what Meleanor wanted!” He said, grabbing your shoulders, trying to pull you away but the touch on your skin seemed to ignite fury in Malleus, his magic fluctuating as he pushes Lilia off, causing the man to fly back to the wall.

“Lilia! /Father!” both soldiers called out, alarmed as Malleus wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you to stand up, his touches on you didn’t hurt but you were terrified, looking at where Lilia flew off, he seemed fine, gripping on his stomach as he coughed, his eyes zeroing on Malleus and you. “MALLEUS!” his voice boomed out as a portal seemed to open from behind Malleus.

“You don’t seem to see me as the ruler, Lilia Vanrouge” he declared, rather heartlessly, his blackened hand pointing at Lilia, “I’ll be willing to let go of your insubordination but be prepared for thorough punishment for touching what is mine,” he says as he walks back, you on hold.

You could see the worry flash across Lilia’s face as he reached out to grab your hand, just as you unconsciously extended it towards him. "Lilia—"

And just like that, you were gone. Lilia fell smoothly to the floor, and Silver and Sebek rushed to his aid. Though he wasn't seriously hurt, it felt like he had been punched in the gut. It became clear that Malleus hadn't intended to harm him; rather, he simply wanted to keep Lilia from touching you.

“What happened?! I don’t understand why would Young master-“Sebek seemed torn, between the fight of Lilia and Malleus. He admired the young master, but what he did to Lilia, the man who stood up to be the one who took care of Malleus caused him to have conflicting emotions

"Enough talk. We're going to catch him," Lilia declared, his gaze icy as he looked between them. “If you have enough energy to speak, then you have enough energy to trike the whole Briar Valley, he added dismissively, waving off his pain. "Find Baur. Inform him that Your Highness has escaped with the prisoner in tow."

“Yes, General” Silver immediately went out, feeling his worry grow for both Malleus and you.

"Release me, Malleus!" You struggled against his iron grip, attempting to push and pull away. You didn’t even notice that you were up in the air, with Malleus calmly walking as if he was on solid ground, your attention fixed on him to even notice.

Unaware of the faint smile on Malleus's face, you suddenly felt yourself get released, eyes widening as you began to descend, realizing too late that he had let go of your last tether.

As you plummeted downward at full speed, panic seized you, tears streaming as Malleus's figure grew smaller above you. "HELP! MALLEUS!" you screamed in terror, arms flailing desperately, trying anything to avoid the imminent fall to what seemed like immediate death.

Glancing downward, you saw the ground rapidly approaching. Closing your eyes, resigned to your fate, instead of impact, you felt arms encircle your waist and heard soft laughter emanating from someone's chest.

“You were crying and screaming for my name Child of man, that was entertaining” he said as he pulls you up, floating once again as you were shaking like a leaf, your hands gripping on Malleus’ sleeves, you buried yourself into his embrace.

Malleus felt a bit bad as he hugs you, ascending into the air once again. “I apologize, he rubs your back gently. "Your constant screaming was hurting my ears, so I thought to heed your plea." He tried to explain himself, but you were too terrified to comprehend. Only faint sniffling and whimpering could be heard from you.

Malleus sighed as he floats down the top of a mountain, gently ushering you off him “Are you alright?” he asked, tenderly caressing your cheek. After a few minutes of helping you calm down, guiding your breathing, he lets you grip on his arm, despite your nails digging into his skin. Regaining your senses and not feeling like you were at your impending doom, you slapped him, glaring at him despite the tears building up in your eyes.

“What was that for!” you screeched, hands flailing as Malleus rubbed his reddening cheek, how amusing, you slapped the king of Briar Valley as if he was just some impertinent being. That was fine by him though, it was his fault entirely.

"I apologize, Child of Man. I didn't expect you to take that kind of Joke seriously—" Malleus began, but you cut him off.

"Joke?! Does it look like I find near-death experiences funny!?" you retorted aggressively, hissing and glaring at him like an angry kitten.

"My apologies," he said, raising his hands in surrender. "I didn't expect you to believe I would ever let you perish, especially after employing such a risky magic to bring your soul here" he explained, backing away from you and settling comfortably into a milky white chair. He had this renovated for his midnight tea endeavors.

“Risky magic?” you asked, finally calming down a bit as you sat on the opposite side, Malleus used his magic to pour a cup of tea to you, giving the cup to you using magic as it floats to your hand. “What do you mean?” you asked.

“You’re currently in an alternate reality,” he said almost casually, taking a sip of his tea. he added, observing your expression as well as your body language, while he was not used to how humans operate, he had read enough books to understand what human body language can say, especially since they’re more honest than words, which is unlike faes.

Gripping on your sleeve a bit you tried to wrack up your brain, for what? Why did he do this? You might have accidentally asked your thought outloud.

“Why?” Malleus seemed disappointed; he expected you to be more attentive with what was happening earlier. “I already told you earlier,” he said, nonetheless even if he was disappointed, if you managed to make his other self happy, he is willing to take risk on your odd humanly behavior, it wasn’t befitting for the next queen of Briar Valley, so he might have his servants teach you proper etiquette. “I was jealous of how happy seeing the other Malleus Draconia was, while I’m stuck here, queenless”

he crosses his arms, “While I don’t need an heir yet, I do wish to have someone by my side to accompany me” You didn’t know how to feel, you got forcibly taken away from your body, put in some woman’s body.

“Malleus, this isn’t right” you said, frowning, “This isn’t how you make yourself happy, just because the Malleus in my original timeline is happy because of me hypothetically,” you said, placing the cup of tea on the table. “doesn’t mean I could make you happy the same.”

“Do not sell yourself short, Child of man” he says, black smoke touching your cheek as he didn’t bother going near you, instead using his magic to touch your cheek, it looked romantic if it weren’t for the fact that you felt trapped here. "I've seen how he looks at you. I desire that kind of intimacy with you as well, so please,” he sounded so perfectly human, it made your heart ache. “I can’t, Malleus we can’t” you looked away, far from his touch and away from his gaze, you refused his love.

“Child of man…” he frowned, his heart breaks, you rejected him. He knew better not to push you, but at the same time, his heart yearns for you, even if you were the love of his other version. To each their own.

“If that is what you wish,” he stood up, black smoke diminishing as you stare at him once again. “You’re going to bring me back?” you asked, almost hopefully, but malleus laughs, a bitter edge to his amusement.

“If I can’t have your heart, I will at least possess your soul, till you accept me” he says, as you felt hands grab you down, stiffening up as you try to fight it, “till you love me”

“Malleus!” you cried out as Malleus stared at you before turning away, walking down the mountain that you two were drinking tea on, a black portal opening as it eats you up, swallowing you into its cold darkness once again.

“Have you found them?” Baur gruffed out, looking around the mountains as he scans the area, nothing out of the ordinary.

“I haven’t found anything,” Silver sighs, he had been on guard, in case Malleus popped out, he could try talking some sense into the king, but knowing how the Draconians are, he has to admit that sometimes, their refusal to see reasoning is frustrating, their perseverance once they lock on a certain object or person would be hard to stop.

It’s been a few days and the soldiers of Lilia and Baur were stationed in the middle of the forest, trying to find any source of magic that Malleus might have left but there’s nothing. It was starting to make the living beings of Briar Valley uneasy. An absent king is an easy target for enemy regions.

Sebek was starting to develop eyebags, trying to spot Malleus. On the verge of tears, Silver patted his back reassuringly. "We'll find them," he said calmly, but Sebek glared at him, blinking back tears. "Of course we will! Malleus-sama always comes back!” he said, voice cracking as now he was starting to doubt if the king will ever come back.

Lilia on the other hand was sitting on top of a branch, watching over the coastal view of the whole area. He suddenly heard grunts from down below, turns out that Baur was trying to get up, Lilia watches as the old man tried to go up just by crawling, he found it rather amusing. “Took you 50 years to come here” he teases as Baur growls, sitting down on the thicker side of the branch. “Shut up, you’re a damned bat you have it easier, let’s take this challenge to water if you’re so smug” Baur retorted, easily riled up as he crossed his arms. “So, any news?” he continued, which made Lilia peel his eyes off the man before staring at the mountain where Malleus took his usual tea routines. “No, I was able to detect the human’s presence, but it vanished abruptly,” he says, air making his hair sway to the side as his eyes narrows. “I’m not even sure if she’s still alive”

he said, he didn’t like humans, but that was the princess of those human pests that kept trying to infiltrate their area.

“Malleus isn’t stupid” Baur declares, resting his back on the side as he lifts his leg up, finally resting his whole body on the thick branch. “Plus, you informed me that Malleus seemed to have taken a liking to this human you speak of” "Yeah," he nods, crossing his legs. "Seems like possessiveness runs in Draconia's blood," he jokes, eliciting laughter from both of them. "I agree. I just hope Malleus isn't as overprotective as Meleanor used to be," Baur says, "Always fussing over you and Levan."

Everything was cold, something was covering your mouth while other dark hands seemed to grip on your waist, arms, and legs, keeping you still. You tried to struggle but to no avail, you can’t even see anything.

Where are you exactly? You’re not even sure what place this was as you blink, trying to see anything but darkness. Despite being restrained, you're relieved not to feel any pain, unlike the discomfort caused by tight handcuffs that once dug into your skin.

Suddenly, a portal opened before you, causing you to squint at the faint light emanating from it. Through the portal stepped Malleus, carrying food that seemed to appear from nowhere.

“Are you done reflecting?” He questioned, having the darkness lift the food and spoon feed you to it, you were already incredibly hungry, you didn’t notice that, automatically accepting the food regardless of your distaste for what he’s doing.

You didn’t answer his first question as you ate, yet here he was already adding another question. “Do you like the food?” he asked, hoping you answer him again.

“Why are you doing this?” You glared at him as the shadow made you drink water; you had the energy to talk (argue) with him now.

“Doing what?” he asked as a makeshift seat appears behind him, letting him sit down, prick, while you were suspended up in the air, he on the other hand was sitting down, you guess it’s normal king attitudes.

“I don’t know, all of this, kidnapping me, trapping me here just cause I disagreed with your actions” you continued as you still tried to squirm off but the darkness had you at their mercy.

“I already told you- “cutting him off by a laugh, “I’m not asking you to explain your reason, I’m asking if you think that the version of me would love you for doing this” you pointed out, frowning. “I’m not yours, Malleus, and if I were, I would have loved my Malleus more than you”

Malleus stiffened at your resolve, his hand fidgeting—a humanistic habit he had developed since encountering humans. “Sure, I made your original version happy, but I told you so many times, I can’t do that with you” you pushed through, feeling the smoke constricting your throat, causing you to gasp. "Fuck" you groaned, squirming as you struggled to breathe.

“You truly are fascinating” he laughs to himself, “You see, I did try to find a version of you in my timeline” he stood up, lifting his hand to stop the smoke from squeezing you. “Yet, here we are, you simply don’t exist here,”

“What?” you gasp, feeling that little squeeze took all of your energy. “What do you mean I don’t exist? There must be some way I do!” you argued frustration creeping into your voice.

“If my soulmate existed in this timeline,” it seemed like you got him a bit upset, his nail grazing the softness of your cheek, inadvertently cutting your skin and causing a drop of blood to fall onto his hand. “I wouldn’t be doing this much effort in keeping you here, right?” he added, voice filled with venom.

“Malleus, you’ve gone insane!” you said, flinching at the new wound you got.

“Insane, maybe” he muses, as he watches your blood stain his nails, how pretty human blood is truly so beautiful. "But you see, Child of Man, wouldn't a true fae in love react similarly if their destined partner rejected them?"

He was sick of your repeated rejection, despite his amusement at how you react to his “love” he does have his limit. He turns around, just like what he did earlier, with you being engulfed further by darkness, a small squeak of protest could only be heard as his magic sends you into a slumber.

As soon as he stepped out, he found himself surrounded by his underlings. Among them, Lilia stared at him with a determined expression. He wasn't surprised; after all, he had been absent from his duties for a few days.

“Lilia” he greets as he noticed Baur, Sebek and Silver were around, along with other soldiers who immediately kneeled before him. “Fancy seeing everyone here” he chimed, looking at the sunset, realizing that dusk has arrived.

“Malleus, where are they?” Lilia asked, as Malleus�� eyes flickered back to him, a soft expression on his face, he didn’t really want to hurt Lilia at all. “Back in my realm of subconsciousness” he answered truthfully which caused Baur and Lilia’s expression turn into confusion.

“Why? What’s so interesting about some human for you to go crazy for?” Baur says casually going near Malleus as he looks at the king. “Come on Kid, there are plenty of fish in the sea.”

Lilia appeared displeased with how Baur was handling the situation, grabbing the old man by the collar. "I apologize for his directness, Malleus. What he's asking is, why are you so fixated on the princess?" Lilia rephrased the question, hoping to avoid provoking Malleus into unleashing lightning on the entire team.

Malleus goes to sit down on the chair once again as he uses his magic to pour tea for everyone. “Sit down” he orders as more chairs were bought by his dark magic.

Sebek looked happy though, “I could never-! Let me handle it Young master!” but Silver stopped him grabbing the other by the collar as Sebek gives Silver a nasty glare. “We shouldn’t stop your highness from showing us hospitality, it’s rude Sebek”

Lilia noticed the two bickering, a faint smile plastered on his face as he sat down, eagerly drinking the tea that Malleus had given them. “Will you answer the question now? Malleus?”

He wasn't that crazy enough to harm his comrades. Watching as everyone fell silent and focused on him, he sighed. "The human..."

Explaining his side of the story, Lilia remained on the opposing side of Malleus. Yes, while that is true that a fated pair rejecting you would hurt a lot, it still doesn’t give Malleus a reason to kidnap you. Baur seemed to think the same as his eyebrows furrowed, crossing his arms.

“That’s stupid” Baur remarked bluntly, prompting an earnest gasp from his grandchild. Sebek appeared conflicted and confused, torn between supporting his young master or his grandfather.

Malleus, however, seemed intrigued, resting his chin on his hand as he asked, “Why so?”

“Listen kid, you’re starting to sound like those obsessive men who can’t take no for an answer” he scratches the back of his neck, not knowing how to properly convey his opinion to the king. “It’s just wrong, fated pairs are supposed to work together, not force each other.”

Malleus took Baur’s word into heart as he placed his fingers on his lips, as if he’s in deep thought, it was true that it was a coward’s way what he did, kidnapping your soul and forcing you inside the chambers of his subconscious.

“What do you propose I do? Baur?” he asked, attention going back to the old man.

“Court like a man” he answered, as If that’s the most stupidest question Malleus asked, “Don’t be like Lilia here, couldn’t even confess to both your parents- “A sudden slap silenced Baur mid-sentence as Lilia hissed, glaring at the idiot.

“Shut it!” Lilia warns Baur glaring at him as he grabs his hand off. “Shit that hurt, you slap like a bitch” he groans out as he uncrosses his arms. “Anyways, release the princess Malleus, try to be kind, patient, you kidnapped her out of nowhere, don’t expect her to love you for that” he pointed out.

That might have helped Malleus snap out of his possessive and obsessive streak as his eyes twinkle. “Alright”

As the darkness that enveloped you began to fade, you found yourself being carried, unsure of your surroundings. you had your head on someone’s chest, a soft beating of their heart evident in your ears and it was oddly comforting.

It reminded you of those sleepless nights where Malleus would cuddle you when you couldn’t sleep, placing your head on his chest while he rubbed gentle circles around your back, after the repeated overblots you’ve been forced into, you developed PTSD, causing you to not sleep well. And that’s where your Hornton came to help, almost every night, he was outside of your dormitory, admiring the silence while you admire the moon, so it was perfect.

Sometimes, it reached a point where no words were exchanged. He would see you restless once again, and as soon as he opened his arms, you would leap into them, seeking comfort. He’d carry you back inside, placing himself on the couch as he cuddles you, a special type of kinship that you two share.

"Child of Man?" A soft voice nudges you awake, and as you blink your sleepy eyes open, you see Malleus—but not your Malleus. "Your Highness?" you mumble, groggily waking up. you touched your cheek, expecting a wound but there was none.

“None of that Child of Man, call me Malleus” he said, he places you on the soft cushions of a big couch, there were Lilia, Silver, Sebek, and a … Older Sebek Infront of you.

“What happened?” she rubbed the healed markings from the handcuffs a few days ago. Lilia seemed to go nonverbal as Malleus brushes his hand on yours, intertwining his fingers on yours.

No matter what, you truly couldn’t hate Malleus, your hand automatically wrapping around his as if it’s a fitting puzzle piece.

“I apologize for dragging you in a body that isn’t yours.” He says as he rubs your palm, regret plastered on his face as Sebek huffs visibly, crossing his arms and looking away, clearly displeased to see his king showing any form of submission, especially to you.

“It’s fine, I just-” you stop yourself, frowning. “can’t I go back?” you asked, hoping that there’s still a way for you to go back, despite the whole shenanigans of being possessive and going crazy to the point you got imprisoned.

“Unfortunately, no” Lilia says, closing his eyes as he leans on the wall. “I tried to find any type of way to bring you back, even asking Malleus here,” he says, looking at his child who seemed to regret his actions, good. “I’m sorry but, it might take awhile or even a lifetime for you to go back”

“Oh” you frown, almost drooping.

“It’ll be okay Child of man” he says as he brushes away the hair that covered your face, tracing his fingers on your cheek, “For as long as I can provide, I will keep you happy here. Whatever you wish, shall be granted.

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twisted-wonderland-shenanigans · 4 months ago

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Kaiju AU Island Concept

Hello everyone!

I'm technically still on hiatus, but I wanted to share something I had been working on before I made my hiatus announcement.

So as you can tell by the title, I'd been working on sketching out a rough-ish map of sorts for the island that we find ourselves on in the Twisted Kaijuland AU. This was so I could have a better idea on the locations of each area so far, as well as concepts on where exactly important locations are located/could be located!

As you can see, compared to my initial story idea, it's grown from being one big island to several islands connected to the main one (aka the staff's island) to denote each dorm's territory.

Keep in mind that this is still a rough draft so I could get my thoughts down, but I want to at least start developing visuals to help with the storytelling as I get around to properly rewriting the Kaiju!AU.

Some location comments:

Elderclaw/Trein's den is near a waterfall, which was chosen to have a tranquil spot to relax in and enjoy the peace as well as have a source of water to help his aching old bones. It's still elevated enough that even during the rainy seasons, there's no risk of flooding and he stays warm.

Crewelfang/Crewel's den is located under a massive willow-like tree, which is where one may find a myriad of flora and other medicinal fungi or roots that he harvests, though he can and will trade some of what he has in exchange for Ragebloom/Riddle's ability to accelerate the growth rate of herbs, fruit, and fungi he needs.

Shadowdrifter/Sam's nests are a mystery to the researchers, as he's been notoriously difficult to pin down location wise. He's always popping up wherever at seemingly random, yet no one knows where he disappears to when it comes time to rest for the night. Or perhaps...he doesn't rest? That's still a working theory, though many can't help but feel his eyes watching them...even when the cameras are off.

There are research facilities located in various points of the island, and there were supposed to be more, but...I kinda ran out of space while trying to figure out where everything would go, and the sizing of the areas aren't exactly accurate!

Each island is connected to the main staff island through land bridges, some of which only appear at certain times of the day or month (hadn't decided which yet or how to incorporate the mirror transportation magic form the game yet). One way to tell which one you're close to is what's around each land bridge: a lush jungle for Heartslabyul, grasslands for Savanaclaw, topside coral reef like from the first Croods movie (hadn't marked that on there I just realized) for Octavinelle, a beach with gold-colored sand for Scarabia, a noxious woodland with toxic yet beautiful plants and other deadly things, a kaiju graveyard for Ignihyde, and the ship graveyard for Diasomnia. I'll likely add more features to some of these in the future, but for now this is still a rough draft!

There are other locations and features I want to add to the map itself (same with the others once I design them), but I wanted to at least share the progression as I continue working on things one step at a time. Hope you guys enjoy!

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland kaiju au #twst kaiju au #twisted wonderland kaiju au worldbuilding #twst kaiju au worldbuilding #apologies if the lines are a bit light since I don't add a lot of pressure to my pencils when I sketch #but hopefully I can get the hang of drawing maps and can create more of these!

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queenshelby · 2 years ago

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Auctioned (P. 2)

Pairing: Dark!Thomas Shelby x Virgin!Reader/OC

Warning: Darkish Themes, Prostitution, Smut, Eventual Loss of Virginity, Dubious Consent, Corruption, Destructive Behavior, Massive Age Gap

Notes: Damn, I had this in my drafts for a while but could not publish it as I was a little afraid about how it would be perceived. Also this is the first time I used an OC, so be gentle with me.

You arrived at Arrow House, Thomas Shelby's imposing mansion in Birmingham. The grandeur of the estate was incomparable, but it did little to quell the knot of unease in your stomach. As you stepped out of the car, your heart thudded in your chest, and you couldn't help but wonder what awaited you inside.

At the entrance, you were met by Frances, Thomas Shelby's trusted maid. Clad in a crisp uniform, she greeted you with a polite smile and led you through the ornate halls. Her footsteps echoed on the marble floors, heightening your sense of apprehension.

Frances paused before a lavish door and turned to face you.

"This will be your room," she informed you, her voice gentle.

"Mr. Shelby insists on providing for his...acquisitions. You'll find everything you need inside” she told you quietly as she opened the door, revealing a room that was both opulent and suffocatingly extravagant. Velvet drapes adorned the windows, and a massive four-poster bed dominated the space, its dark wood glinting in the soft lamplight. You couldn't help but feel like it was a gilded cage.

“Acquisitions?” you asked. “Is there more than one of us?” you queried, causing Frances to nod.

“Yes, ma’am. A woman named Alison was acquired by Mr Shelby several months ago, and after her contract was finished, she decided to stay at her own volition. I believe that she receives a generous salary for her services and, no doubt, come tomorrow, you will meet her,” Frances explained, and you mumbled out a polite “thank you” in response.

Despite Frances’s reassurances, you still struggled to shake off the gnawing worry that had settled in your mind. What did Thomas Shelby have planned for you?

"If you need anything, anything at all, Mr. Shelby has instructed me to assist you. Just ring the bell, and I'll be with you,” Frances said, her eyes filled with silent sympathy, and, with that, she left you to your own devices, closing the door behind her. You were finally alone in this unfamiliar territory, surrounded by the ghosts of the past and the uncertainty of the future.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, you stared down at your hands, fidgeting nervously. You had become Thomas Shelby's possession, a mere object to satisfy his desires. It wasn't fair, but then again, when had life ever been fair? You had agreed to this and needed the money.

***

Minutes turned into hours, and you tried to distract yourself from the ominous silence of the room. You wandered to the window, peering out at the moonlit grounds and the distant city lights. The world outside seemed to be carrying on as if nothing had changed, oblivious to the turmoil within you.

Just as you were about to resign yourself to the loneliness of the night, there was a knock on the door, startling you. The sound shattered the silence, and you couldn't help but feel a mix of relief and trepidation.

You made your way to the door, your palms clammy and your heart pounding in your chest. You took a deep breath and mustered up the courage to turn the handle.

To your surprise, it was Frances again, her eyes searching your face for any hint of distress. "Mr. Shelby wishes to see you in his study," she said, her voice almost a whisper.

You nodded, your voice failing you once again. As you followed Alison through the sprawling halls of Arrow House, you couldn't help but feel like a lamb being led to the slaughter. Every step brought you closer to this dangerous man, Thomas Shelby who, until now, had barely spoken a word to you.

Finally, you arrived at a massive oak door. Frances knocked and, without waiting for an invitation, pushed it open. The scent of whiskey and cigars wafted out, mingling with the faint glow of a roaring fire.

"Come in,” a commanding voice beckoned from within. Taking a deep breath, you stepped inside, your apprehension reaching new heights.

Thomas Shelby sat behind a grand mahogany desk, his piercing blue eyes capturing your gaze as you entered. He was every bit as intimidating as the rumours suggested, his presence filling the room with an air of danger and authority.

"Close the door, Love," Thomas Shelby ordered, his tone leaving no room for disobedience. You did as you were told, desperately trying to remain composed under his intense scrutiny.

"Come, sit," he directed, pointing to an intricately carved armchair opposite his desk. You complied, taking a seat, your hands trembling ever so slightly.

"I trust you're settling in well," Thomas said, his voice smooth yet laced with a hint of danger. It sent shivers down your spine as if he could read the thoughts racing through your mind.

You nodded, your voice barely audible. It was almost impossible to look away from him, his eyes captivating you like a predator eyeing its prey.

"Good," Thomas replied, leaning back in his chair, his gaze intensifying. "Now,” he paused, inhaling the smoke from his cigarette. “I will allow you to become accustomed to your new surroundings tonight, and your services won’t be needed as yet. However, I do consider it timely to lay out some ground rules for you.” Thomas told you sternly before continuing on.

“You are my possession, and as such, I expect no other man to touch you while you are here, living in my house,” Thomas said, and your heart quickened at his words, the weight of his dominance bearing down on you. The realisation of what you had gotten yourself into finally started to sink in.

"I don't expect you to love me, and I will never be able to love you," Thomas continued, his voice steady. "Your sole purpose here is to provide me with pleasure, nothing more. Do you understand?" he asked, and you nodded once again, a knot forming in your throat. It was a bitter pill to swallow, knowing that this was only a transactional exchange of desire.

“I also expect you not to touch yourself intimately unless I permit you to do so. Understood?” Thomas asked as a smug smile tugged at the corner of Thomas Shelby's lips.

“Yes Mr Shelby” you responded obediently

"Good. We understand each other, then. Now, Love, tell me, why did you agree to this fucking auction, eh?” Thomas asked, causing you to swallow harshly.

Stumbling over your words, you told him about the poverty you experienced ever since you were a child. The sound of your voice was barely audible in the tense atmosphere. Thomas Shelby's eyes traced your face as if committing it to memory.

“The things we do for money, eh?” Tommy chuckled before telling you again that you were his now.

“Your my fucking property now, Love and poverty is not something you have to worry about again,” Thomas then stated, his voice low and possessive.

You gulped, your throat dry and your mind racing. The weight of his dominance bore down on you, leaving you little room to escape the clutches of his desires.

"Y-yes, Mr Shelby," you stammered, your voice trembling. Thomas Shelby's smirk widened, no doubt pleased with your acquiescence.

"Very well then," he said, rising from his chair and moving closer to you. "If you remember your place and serve me well, I will ensure that you are looked after, eh,” he told you, caressing your face possessively.

His words hung in the air, heavy with the promise of things to come. You couldn't help but shiver, a mix of anticipation and apprehension coursing through your veins.

"Do you have any questions?" Thomas finally asked, his voice lowering to a seductive whisper. You hesitated for a moment, unsure if you should speak your mind, but the curiosity got the better of you.

"Will, will you...hurt me?" you managed to say, your voice barely audible. The vulnerability in your question laid bare the fear that had been gnawing at your insides.

“Will I hurt you?” Thomas chuckled, repeating your question. His eyes softened for a moment, and in that fleeting instant, you caught a glimpse of something buried beneath his rough exterior. "I will never hurt you, Love," he replied, his voice surprisingly gentle. "You are mine to protect, not to hurt, unless, of course, you give me a reason to," Thomas confirmed and immediately, a wave of relief washed over you, a glimmer of trust forming where there had only been fear. Perhaps there was more to Thomas Shelby than met the eye.

Thomas Shelby took a step closer, the air thick with tension. "That will be all for tonight Y/N," he said, his voice reverberating through your core. "There are other matters I must attend to” he then said, and the finality in his words left you with no choice but to obey. You were in his world now, stripped of your innocence and thrust into a world of raw desire. And Thomas Shelby was the man who held all the power.

"Alison," Thomas called before you had a chance to leave. There was a hint of impatience in his voice as he noticed someone outside his office, spying. Within moments, another woman appeared at the door, her eyes avoiding any lingering eye contact with you at first. She must have been outside his office all along, listening to your conversation.

"Yes, Mr Shelby?" she replied, her voice respectful yet tinged with apprehension.

“Spying, are we?” Thomas smirked before changing the subject. “Come and meet our new acquaintance. Her name is Y/N, and I trust you will show her the ropes, eh?” Thomas said as he leaned back in his chair, his eyes never leaving you.

“So, may I assume she is not a maid then?” Alison ought to clarify, and Thomas nodded.

“She is not a maid, Alison. In fact, she is not a whore either. She is a virgin… for now at least,” Thomas smirked, and the knot of anxiety tightened in your stomach as he spoke.

“Really?” Allison asked, surprised, and you nodded nervously.

“Really,’ Thomas confirmed, both looking at you as if you were nothing but a piece of meat.

“Now, Alison here is quite experienced herself. She worked at one of the local brothels for a while, and I offered her an opportunity to work for me here at Arrow House. Just like I offered your sister this very same opportunity, but unfortunately for her, she declined. It was a lucrative offer, but she decided she could not and would not satisfy my needs. Alison, on the other hand, did well in my possession, and I believe in her ability to ensure that you will do equally well for me” Thomas explained, his eyes glinting with a mix of amusement and dominance as he spoke these words.

“When do you anticipate her to be ready for the main event, sir…” Allison began to say and before she could even finish her sentence, Thomas spoke.

“By weeks’ end. Although, I am hoping to have a little fun with her tomorrow,” Thomas smirked and again, the weight of his words hung in the air, and an internal struggle ensued within you.

“Fun? What kind of fun?” you asked worryingly before, in a daring move, letting your eyes roam freely over Thomas's muscular form, his sharp jawline, and the dangerous allure he emanated. The silence stretched between you, charged with a mix of apprehension and intrigue.

“Perhaps actions speak louder than words, wouldn’t you agree, Alison?” Thomas asked as a self-assured smugness played at the corner of his lips.

“Yes, Mr Shelby. Perhaps I should demonstrate what you may expect her to do,” Alison agreed, knowing exactly what Thomas was referring to as you sat there still, frozen to the spot.

You let out an audible gulp, torn between the fear of what this new role entailed and the forbidden allure that Thomas presented.

“Perhaps you should,” Thomas smirked as he leaned forward, his intense gaze searing into your soul before, eventually, he turned towards Allison.

The mixture of arousal and apprehension coursed through your veins as, without warning, he drew Allison in for a kiss before pulling her back gently, making her moan in discomfort.

As Allison's lips met his, you couldn't tear your eyes away. The sight of them locked in a passionate embrace sent a wave of heat through your body, mingled with a hint of jealousy.

Thomas pulled away, his eyes never leaving yours. “On your knees, Love,” he ordered his voice a dangerous undertone as he looked over at you with determination.

"Observe," he commanded, his voice dripping with arrogance.

Your face reddened as you tried to mentally prepare yourself for what was to come. This was a whole new world to you, and your inexperience made you feel even more vulnerable.

Allison stepped back, her eyes still locked with yours, as she gracefully lowered herself to her knees in front of Thomas.

Your eyes widened, and uncertainty filled your mind. You couldn't tear your gaze away as Allison's nimble fingers began to undo Thomas's belt.

“Oh god,” were the words that escaped you, as eventually, Alison freed Thomas’s now hardening length and Thomas looked down at her, a certain arrogance in his gaze.

"Take note Love," Thomas said, his voice carrying a hint of danger, "this is what I expect from you," he told you before glancing at Alison again.

“Use your mouth, Allison," he commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Your cheeks flushed as Allison obeyed, taking Thomas into her mouth. The moan that escaped his lips made an electric jolt shoot through your body.

You couldn't help but feel a mix of delight and intimidation. This was what Thomas expected, what he desired. And now, it was your turn to learn.

Your breath hitched as you watched Allison's lips trail down Thomas's length, her tongue exploring every inch.

The room grew hotter with unspoken desires as Thomas's fingers threaded through Allison's hair, guiding her movements, forcing her to take him in all the way to the back of her throat.

A mixture of embarrassment, arousal, and fear washed over you as you imagined yourself in Allison's place. Could you ever live up to Thomas's expectations?

Thomas's gaze never wavered from yours, his piercing eyes delving deep into your soul. He knew the effect he had on you, the power he held over your every thought.

"Do you understand Love?" he asked, his voice laced with a mixture of authority and satisfaction.

You nodded, unable to form coherent words as your own desires swirled within you.

Allison continued her intimate ministrations, her eyes meeting yours as if giving you a silent challenge. A challenge to surpass her, to prove your worth to Thomas.

But then, suddenly, Thomas withdrew, leaving Allison momentarily bewildered.

“Come,” he ordered, clearly wanting you to take Alison’s place and, immediately, wild thoughts raced through your mind, a battle between fear and desire.

“You said tomorrow…do you want me…” you stammered, unable to form a coherent sentence.

"I changed my mind Love, and I do not take no for an answer," he said, his voice a low warning. “Now come,” he said again and you complied and walked over towards where he was standing, with Alison still stroking his length, causing a clear fluid to pool on his tip.

Thomas watched you intently, his eyes searching for any sign of weakness. He wanted to see if you had the strength to meet his demands. He was testing you and then, you took up all the courage you had and leaned in, your lips capturing Thomas's in a hesitant kiss while Alison continued to stroke him.

It was unlike anything you had ever experienced before. Thomas's kiss was demanding, his lips moulding against yours with an intensity that left you breathless. There was an undeniable chemistry between you. As your lips parted, Thomas's eyes bore into yours, searching for any hint of uncertainty.

"On your knees," he commanded, his voice demanding and assertive and, immediately, panic surged through your veins as you realised what he was asking of you. You hesitated, unsure if you could comply.

Thomas's patience wore thin. "Now," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Slowly, you dropped to your knees, heart pounding in your chest. You had never been so exposed, vulnerable to his every desire.

Allison moved aside, allowing you to take her place entirely. The intensity of his gaze made your breath catch in your throat.

He reached down, his fingers gently lifting your chin to meet his gaze. His touch sent an electric jolt through your body.

"You see, Love," he whispered, his breath grazing against your lips, "I enjoy pushing boundaries, testing limits."

His words hung in the air, the weight of his expectations heavy upon your shoulders. You couldn't deny the allure, the thrill that coursed through your veins.

Bracing yourself, you tentatively leaned forward, your lips hovering just inches from Thomas's length.

“Now prove to me that you can satisfy my needs," he said, his voice a commanding whisper.

Your heart raced as you met Thomas's gaze head-on. Without uttering a word, you nodded and wrapped your hand around Thomas's hardness, your touch tentative but loaded with promise. You were determined to give him everything he desired.

A low groan escaped Thomas's lips as you began to stroke him, your movements growing bolder with each passing second. You were finding your rhythm.

The dominance that radiated from Thomas only fueled your desire to please him. With every whimper and gasp that fell from his mouth, your confidence grew.

Thomas's fingers entangled themselves in your hair, gently guiding your head closer to him. He wanted to feel your mouth, your tongue, worshipping him.

Taking the hint, you parted your lips and eagerly took Thomas into your mouth. The taste of him, the way he filled you, sent bolts of pleasure through your senses.

“That’s it, Love,” Thomas groaned as your head bobbed up and down, steadily building a rhythm that mirrored the waves of desire coursing through both of you. You were entirely focused on his pleasure.

The sounds of your shared passion filled the air, mingling with Thomas's ragged breaths and the wet, lewd noises of your mouth on him.

Thomas's grip on your hair tightened, his hips moving in time with your ministrations. He was close, a tight coil of pleasure building within him.

You gagged several times. It was unavoidable, and even with drool and make-up covering your face disproportionately, Thomas clearly enjoyed watching what you as he forced your head down his shaft.

“I am close, Love,” he eventually announced, but you had no idea what this meant. He was close? To what?

“I expect you to swallow. So, don’t make a fucking mess, eh” Thomas then growled, confusing you even more as his release was imminent.

All you knew by this point was that he felt pleasure, and the knowledge that you were the one driving him to this edge sent a surge of pride through you.

As Thomas's climax finally washed over him, you felt his shaft pulsating. His movements stilled, and he pushed his length into the back of your throat.

A warm, thick and somewhat sweet liquid then filled your mouth, hitting the back of your throat like a violent torrent, spurt after spurt, and you remembered what he said so you instinctively swallowed. You had set out to satisfy him, and you had succeeded.

Panting heavily, Thomas slowly released his hold on your hair. His gaze, filled with a mixture of satisfaction and admiration, locked onto yours.

"You have exceeded my expectations, Love, but you still have much to learn," he said, his voice laden with awe, and it was at that moment that you realised Thomas Shelby was more than just dominant and dangerous; he was flawed, vulnerable, and seeking solace in the very depths of your touch.

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy imagine #tommy shelby #cillian murphy x you #peaky blinders #tommy shelby smut #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby au #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby fanfiction #thomas shelby smut #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby fanfic #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby

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a66-1 · 1 year ago

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starving

part 1 | part 2 [you're here!]

Simon x Fem!Insecure!Reader.

finally got the idea for part 2. excited?

me too

TW: Talk of ed's, negative self talk, low self esteem, bad mouthing (from reader to herself, comes with the territory) cursing, self harm. i tried not to be too descriptive with the reader, so EVERY insecure girlie who reads this feels seen.

semi proofread bc who cares

The next morning was exhausting as the last.

You got up early to go running. If you ever have the chance, you run until the sun comes up. You need to stay fit if you want a boyfriend. It was easier when you were on your meds. Almost like you had the will to live those mornings.

You were back at the house around 8 am. You weren't scheduled for work today so... You headed back to bed and really, just slept the day away

You woke up around 5 pm. 5, really? God, you are just some depressed child.

You got out of bed for the second time, and changed into a dress. It was hard seeing yourself in a dress after 2 years. You stopped going out because alcoholism and anti-depressants aren't really two peas in a pod, are they?

Well this is why you quit. You dropped your therapist and your meds because you were better, and your mom stopped helping with the payments, and now you can go back to partying.

Minus the heavy drinking.

Hopefully.

You tear your eyes off yourself. If you stare too long, you'll end up convincing yourself to stay in bed longer. You configure the rest of your outfit, and grab a small black purse. Throwing your phone in it, you leave the house quicky. If you don't, you might properly convince yourself you're just as ugly as you thought..

The drive to the bar was silent, save from the honking cars around you. Fuck, what if this is the wrong idea? I mean the looks everyone will give you, you look so bad and so ugly and god this was such a bad--

You hear a car honk behind you. The light turned green. You lower your head, sighing, and taking a left.

Once at the bar, you slip into one of the seats nearer the back, feeling uncomfortable in the seat. Adjusting your dress down, you cringe while looking around the bar. There's so many pretty women here, and comparatively you are way under them.

You order a drink, sipping on the alcohol for the first time in months. Fuck, your therapist would be losing it if she knew you not only stopped meds but started drinking again...

You rested your head in your palm, watching others interact. Pretty women just have a way with men, a way you've never had. The buzz of the alcohol was enough to make you not question why nobody has interacted with you, other than the bartender. People probably think your such a loser, I mean, who would just sit here and drink--

"Hey. You're, uh.. That girl from yesterday right?" A gruff voice appears behind you. You flinch forward, whipping your head around.

Oh. This guy.

You slowly put your drink down, your palm over the top of it.

"And who are you?" You ask, eyeing the man. He didn't have his mask on. He was... Really cute.

"A customer." He sat next to me, his eyes trained on mine. I felt sort of flushed under his gaze.

Fuckin' small world.

You spent some of the night talking with him. Still don't know his name, or why you ran into him here, but you don't care nonetheless.

You were looking for sex this night but... Is a connection so bad?

Like you could make a connection with someone who is out of your league.

thank god i finished this. 3 drafts later, and im sorry its kinda short. trust part 3 is gonna have the good stuff, this is kinda a filler so it can get to the good stuff.

ily babes...

-a661

taglist:

@i-am-hungry-24-7 @arminarlertssword @haven-1307

#simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x you #simon fluff #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost fluff

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streetchicken · 3 months ago

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Ok, so i have to ask. What is the relationship between the lamb and all the bishops?

Are they natural with each other, or they have some sort of resentment but won't show?

You know, I was WAITING for someone to ask something like that! Lamb lore time- VVVVVVV

So my lamb is actually has a funny little personality. He's the very positive sort, all honey and innocence really. It's a tool he uses to recruit followers and set others at ease! But it's an act of sorts. He acts aloof and silly and cute, playing on the fact that he's a fluffy little lamb with a harmless face, to achieve ulterior motives. So really he's a master manipulator, it's a core characteristic of his.

As for the bishops? They have mixed reactions to that fact. They've seen the lamb's brutality first hand, so to experience the lamb so sweet and docile and aloof is jarring.

Leshy is the most at ease with the lamb. He's easily trusting as a result from being the youngest and not having experienced as many betrayals. He's also a little oblivious, it doesn't help much that Geel (my yellow cat) is a loyal follower and only speaks praises of the lamb. So he doesn't have much reason to not trust the lamb, especially with how he understands the mortal need to survive. All in all, Leshy views the lamb as an ally and even a possible friend.

Heket cannot say she completely trusts the lamb, especially not around her siblings. Arguably the most hostile, but also the most willing to work with the lamb in the long run after the lamb has only shown her and her siblings kindness. She's headstrong and she knows the lamb is showing a front, but she's very much the "I don't fuck with you, you don't fuck with me" type. Like Leshy, she understands the need to protect territories and the things you care about. And even though she won't admit it, she enjoys the simplicities of mortal life.

Kallamar nearly pisses himself if he gets within the shortest distance of the lamb. He picks up on the darkness that kind of clings to the lamb. Call it a sea creature's extra senses, but the lamb scares the shit out of him. He puts up a cocky, fillagree front, but deep down he knows that the lamb is something dangerous. Despite that however, Kallamar still admires the lamb more than fear them. Sure the darkness is still there, curling just at the edges of the lamb's fleece, but they're kind and strong. There's no real reason to fear the lamb.

Shamura is the most neutral of the lot. There's real admiration there, for the Lamb's intelligence and strength. Sure it was an ego hit to lose their crown, but how can Shamura stay resentful when it was done so elegantly through sheer strength, will and combative excellence? Shamura is a sucker for good military strategy and feats of intelligence and the lamb does not fall short of who Shamura expected to eventually usurp them. Shamura always knew that someone would end their reign one day, nothing lasts forever, even gods don't last forever. Shamura just expected it to be one of their siblings is all. That does not mean however that they're completely at ease. Shamura sees the darkness, knows what a cunning mind is needed to overthrow a god, and it's equal amounts fascinating as it is mortifying. The lamb is definitely not an ally or an enemy, but rather a friend and something new to Shamura.

Narinder is the odd one in the group. There's no fear, there is some resentment, but mostly there is pride. When he initially drafted the lamb as a vessel, his idea was to play devil on the lamb's shoulder. His purpose was to mold the lamb in his own image, to play ruthless god until he took the crown back. So really he's proud of all the carnage and brutality the lamb has shed. He's so self satisfied by the way that he made the lamb that he's not even all that mad the lamb betrayed him. He very much impressed they had the gall and brutality to kill a god, even more so that they did it TWICE OVER. Sure he's livid about losing his crown, but he's also so smug about the creature that came of it. Doesn't mean he trusts the lamb though. He's very aware of their manipulative tactics and facades and is very much maaaaybe a little turned on about just how fucked up and cruel the lamb can be. As for my lamb? He knows exactly what they think of him. He just acts like he doesn't. You'll see more about their relationships as I draw them more though!

#hope it makes sense #All in all the lore is still in development but this is a nice surface view!#answered asks #cult of the lamb #cult of the lamb narinder #cult of the lamb leshy #cult of the lamb shamura #cult of the lamb kallamar #cult of the lamb heket #cult of the lamb narilamb #cotl leshy #cotl lamb #cotl shamura #cotl heket #cotl kallamar #cotl narilamb #cotl lore #cotl narinder #This is a lot of lore

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knaveumineko · 3 months ago

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Umineko Episode 6 Blog: Without Love, It Cannot Be Seen

Important one today! Seeing characters who represent love itself is a big deal, and their trial tells us about Sayo as a person far more directly than anything before.

Apologies for the delay in getting this out. I completely blacked out for all of yesterday and, when I woke up, I discovered that my planned posts had been replaced by a series of mysterious forgeries. I was shocked, to say the least. The only place I ever wrote down my Tumblr password was in a notebook that I keep in a safe. The code to the safe is only written in a post that I keep in my drafts folder on my main Tumblr blog. Unless the culprit is a witch who could read my mind, I just don't see how it's possible to gain access to my account like that.

It's particularly unsettling because I got a letter today that was returned to sender, even though I don't remember sending any letter in the first place. All that was inside was the name of some bank in Japan and a list of numbers. I couldn't make sense of it, so I just threw it away, but it's pretty creepy.

There's a running gag in Umineko in which the magic side of the plot draws heavy inspiration from Otaku culture. There are a lot of superficial references to the occult, the Stakes are right in that grating, childish territory that manga writers seem to think it funny, and the bunny girls talk like they walked out of Nanoha. In keeping with this, the magic side of the plot is filled with yuribait, representing a diverse range across the "basically canon but they won't say it explicitly for some reason" to "if you ship this I assume you believe in chemtrails" spectrum. By juxtaposition with the heteronormative romances of the mundane side of the story, Umineko might accidentally imply that LGBT people are an aberration, enjoyable as a quick gag or piece of fanservice, but intolerable as soon as they become too real. Not really a good faith reading, but such is the kind of unintended side effect you might run into when you only explore queerness through the lens of non-human characters.

Or is it an unintended side effect at all? I'm still reeling from the fact that Battler trying to grope his cousin (I guess twice, if I'm right about Sayo's parentage) turned out to be important. I've been thinking of Kanon as more or less a disguise for Sayo, and maybe it even started out that way, but the entire conflict in the Love Trial is ultimately over which of the identities gets to become a real person. Kanon picks out a real name in this chapter (I wouldn't be surprised if he didn't have one before, since he only exists when Sayo is on-duty) and it would seem as though his existence is linked to the question of whether Sayo would prefer to prioritise Jessica, in the same way that Shannon practically exists to be George's wife, and Beatrice is explicitly a coping mechanism for unfulfilled feelings toward Battler.

We shouldn't forget that the world of magic is one formed mostly from the mind of Sayo. To Sayo, marriage is when a man and a woman have a wedding, the man works and the woman stays home to look after their kids. To Sayo, the choice to commit to Jessica is synonymous with the choice to live as a man, and vice versa for George. To Sayo, a choice between the two is absolutely necessary for life to go on. Only one can survive the trial.

The characters ask over and over: why is a miracle necessary for two people who already love eachother? What can stand in their way at that point? It's not just that Shannon, Kanon and Beatrice are all the same person. Kyrie alludes to it with her comment about marriage being something very different from a childhood crush. George is very clear that he wants to have a lot of children. Natsuhi seems to be under the impression that the baby from 19 years ago was a man. The reason Sayo needs a miracle is because of her body.

Back in Episode 2, when Kanon fights the goat (I can't believe this ended up mattering) there's some phallic subtext being thrown around. I recognise "sword = phallus" is an uncouthly English Major thing to forward, but in this case I'm not just grasping at straws (another phallus! Freud was right!) I think Beatrice literally refers to Kanon conjuring his blade as "whipping it out." Kanon has a line about how he didn't want to show it to Jessica, and Beatrice mocks him for "exposing his subhumanity."

I've already said before that Shannon avoids being physically intimate with George, and goes as far as sleeping in a separate room when they vacation together. Again in Episode 2, we get some suggestive dialogue during Beato's crashout. She says that Shannon wanted George to "teach her the joy of womanhood," insists that their relationship is meaningless if they can't sleep together and tells her that their relationship will be over the moment George tries to sleep with her.

Zepar and Furfur are pretty one-note characters, but their existence itself is a huge hint: they look completely identical but are opposite genders. Pretty weird that Ryukishi didn't write anything else in their character bios.

I wonder if the backstory is going to be that Sayo was raised as a girl initially because she was supposed to be Kinzo's newest Beatrice. I feel like I broadly understand her background, but I don't really understand the specific sequence of events. I still can't decide if Sayo was ever actually at the orphanage or if she was just at Kuwadorian the entire time.

For now, I think I'll stick with she/her for Sayo, since the name was originally linked with Shannon, and it seems like the Shannon identity has been around continuously for much longer than Kanon, and has yet to be dropped in favour of it.

Through the lens of the meta plot, it seems the true purpose of the Love Trial was not to create a miracle for Shannon or Kanon, but to create a miracle for Battler by returning his lost love to him. The trial had to drag in Shannon and Kanon, because those identities are as much Beatrice as the witch of legend was, as much as Sayo presents them as separate (it's Kanon, after all, who teaches the new Beato how to be a witch). Way back in the 1st Episode, Kanon has his soliloquy about the big strong Battler coming along to save him from the work he's not strong enough to do himself. The scene ends by cutting him off as he says "even I..." This could be read as an indication of Kanon being insecure about his status as a man or as Kanon noticing that some residual attraction to Battler even exists in him, even though that's not meant to be part of his identity. It could also be both at once, with those feelings feeding into eachother. The same episode also features Shannon not caring at all about Battler making passes at her right in front of George. The implication here seems to be that Sayo's feelings toward Battler are the truest of them all, to the point where they seep into the other identities. It's interesting that Shannon "wins" the Love Trial, but Beatrice is clearly the victor regardless. Sayo's feelings toward Jessica were never all that developed, because she could not allow herself to accept them, but she was prepared to move on and marry George before Battler showed up out of nowhere. "Because of your sin, people die."

As for Beato's part in things, we're doubling down on the parallels between Kinzo and Battler to an unambiguously disquieting degree. Battler is constantly conflicted between his desire to get the original Beato back and whatever responsibilities he has toward her "daughter," and so he bets on the miracle of the new Beatrice becoming the old one. One might even speculate that the entire Logic Error was some kind of ploy on his part to make this happen. After all, the solution to the Logic Error requires you to understand who Beatrice is. He has some inner narration suggesting that he's genuinely stumped by the problem, but then again Beatrice was maintaining her "change of heart" act in Episode 3, even in scenes that Battler presumably couldn't observe.

After Episode 6's ending, I have no idea where Umineko is going to land on the question of magic. In Episode 4 we had a conflict between Ange and Maria over the latter's attempts to explain away her own abuse. It seems that this wedding is a more extreme example of the same tension. It is certainly wrongheaded to evaluate two people's "truths" with the goal of figuring out which one is "right," (those of you who found this blog through JADS might recall that infamous user who was asked to stop using a slur, and uttered the famous last words "define a slur") but at the same time the magic scenes are often used, not just to cover up or interpret, but to perpetuate a horrible reality. I was thinking that the story might conclude by arguing that the reader ought to accept the existence of magic, in a complete reversal from the beginning, when such a thing was unthinkable, but now I wonder if in the long run we're going to get some kind of synthesis of the two perspectives that I'm not expecting.

Beatrice has always been a composite being. I wondered if this nature of hers might be an allusion to the Holy Trinity: she does, after all have 3 major personalities who are sort of all her but also none of them are really her, and she's already an allusion to the Divine Comedy (I need to wrap this blog up soon, or else the next April Fools post is going to need a lot of background research). This is to say that it's reductive to simply say that Battler married his daughter, but at the same time that is literally what happened on-screen. The final scenes of Episode 6 are trying so hard to distract you with the flashy fight scene and the big romantic wedding applauded by everyone and Beato's aura farming, but the rot underneath it all goes unaddressed. Are we just commenting on Kinzo's attempts to beautify his actions, or are we also questioning the value of Sayo's "love" for a man who has never, and will never, do anything to save her no matter how long she waits? The same guy who, in her own story, tries to assault her the second he sees her after a lapse of six years? Battler is a member of the Ushiromiya family, in the end. Given what happened, it would seem that the real Battler, who we have yet to see, and may never see, was far from the miracle she was hoping for.

The unease that the ending leaves us with leads directly into the ??? scene. Battler tried as hard as he could to hide the truth of the Rokkenjima killings from the vultures who would revel in revealing all the sordid details. He tried to protect Beatrice out of love. Featherine and Bernkastel truly do not care. A miracle will certainly not occur on their stage.

#liveblogging #umineko episode 6 #umineko #umineko no naku koro ni #umineko when they cry #umineko liveblog

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vilevenom · 1 year ago

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Hello @90svn!! Thank you for your request and sweet comment ❤️

I took this request as a personal challenge, because Trollex has a whole 5 minutes of screentime in World Tour, and only maybe eight voice lines. Very hard to get a good read on a character with such a short appearance, but I did my best!

Hope you enjoy!~

To say that Clay felt overwhelmed was putting it mildly. Reuniting with his brothers had been one thing. Heck, even reintegrating the putt putt trolls with pop village had been a drain on his mental and social batteries, but he'd muddled through. However, following Viva along to royal meet and greets and council meetings was just too much. He felt out of his depths in so many ways. Sure, he'd helped co-run the golf course, and a lot of the rules and regulations that kept the place stable had been his doing, but there was just so much more to all of the other kingdoms. Not to mention the fact that he didn't really feel like the other leaders necessarily took him and Viva seriously. He was an ex-boyband member with no political background, and Viva had been unintentionally usurped as queen by her younger sister. They didn't exactly fit the standard leader stereotypes.

This latest meeting, to discuss territory laws and transportation between kingdoms had initially intrigued Clay, and when Viva all but begged him to go with her so she wouldn't be bored, he'd happily agreed. Now he sort of wished he'd stayed home. As much as he had thoughts on what was going on, absolutely no one in the room paid he or Viva much, if any, mind. They were treated more like Poppy's entourage than leaders of a subdivision of Pop trolls. Even Branch was getting asked more questions than either of them.

He was about to suggest to Viva that they leave, since no one seemed to really care what they had to say, when the door to the meeting room burst open, and the king of the techno trolls floated in, grin on his face.

"Sorry I'm late," Trollex laughed as he moved across the room to take his seat, "Last nights rave went on a bit longer than I had anticipated."

Clay rolled his eyes, sinking down further into his seat. He'd seen the techno king from afar a few times before, but he never struck Clay as the type to take anything seriously. He was always talking about the parties the techno trolls threw, never seeming to have a serious thought in his head. He figured, from here, the meeting could only go further downhill.

He, of course, hadn't been paying attention to what was being said due to his miserable ruminating, so hadn't caught that he'd been directly addressed. Not until Viva elbowed him squarely in the rub cage, anyway. He grunted, sitting himself up with a quick frown shot to his best friend, who simply grinned back at him. "Sorry, what was that?"

"I said," Trollex waved his hand at Clay to get his attention, his previous grin and chipper attitude seemingly gone, "What do you think about the implication of having trolls of multiple genres potentially staying all in one place? Since regional customs and attitudes are so wildly different, it opens up a massive amount of safety concerns. Viva said you were the best troll to talk to, outside maybe Branch, about what sort of measures could be kept in place to make sure everyone stays happy and healthy."

Clay perked up as Trollex spoke, not having expected the king to ask such an insightful question, especially not to him. Perhaps his first impression of the king had been all wrong. "Well, there are a lot of different things we'd have to keep in mind for such an undertaking…"

Trollex, it turned out, was an incredibly insightful king. Throughout the entire meeting he lobbed questions to several of the kingdom rulers, and directed most, if not all, concerns in regards to safety to Clay. All in all, he felt pretty good when the meeting came to a close, as they had several rough documents drafted up for new inter-kingdom laws.

So, it threw Clay off a little when Trollex floated past him, wide grin on his face and headphones over his ears, flipping a glowstick between his fingers, like he hadn't just been discussing transgenre rights barely five minutes prior. He froze when the kings eyes landed on him, his shoulders unconsciously hiking up to his ears as he was approached.

"Hey, hey! Clay, my man," Trollex crowed, only lowering his volume once he pulled his headphones away from his ears, "Nice work today, yo. Usually Branch is the only one who can figure out all that nuance-y regulatory stuff."

"Yeah, well. Boring legal stuff is my jam," he said with a little laugh while throwing up a peace sign and sticking his tongue out without even realizing what he was doing. He quickly straightened up, a flush forming on his cheeks as a grin slowly spread across Trollex's face.

"Yeah, bro! Nice," Trollex laughed, reaching over to shake Clay's shoulder gently in a friendly gesture, "Live your best life, yo. Speaking of, you should come on by Techno Reef sometime soon! We've got some bangin' raves comin' up. Would love to see how you unwind."

"Haha, yeah," Clay forced a smile onto his face, giving the king a little nod.

"Sweet! I'll send word to Pop Village with dates for the next big one! It's gonna be LIT," Trollex called out, earning whoops from some of the trolls milling near the meeting hall. He laughed as he put his headphones back on, tossing Clay a glow stick as he began to bob his head in time with his music, shooting him finger guns before floating away.

Clay didn't even register when Viva appeared next to him. "Ooooh, does Mr.Clay have a date?"

"Cupcakes!" Clay dropped the glowstick in favor of slapping a hand to his chest, "Viva! Ugh…we seriously need to get you a bell, girl."

Viva simply cackled at him, poking him in the side until he couldn't hold back his laughter and swatted her away. "Well?" she prompted as she took a step back to let Clay catch his breath.

Clay sighed and bent to pick up the fallen glowstick, shrugging a bit. "Pretty sure it was a general party invitation, Viv. Not a date request."

"Well, you gotta start somewhere," Viva chirped, wrapping both of her arms around one of Clays. "What do you think about him, anyway? He totally seems right up your alley."

"What?! How?" Clay asked with a laugh, arching an eyebrow at Viva curiously.

"Oh, well, you know," Viva hummed, resting her head on Clay's shoulder, "He's a party guy, sure, but you saw him in the meeting. He seems like he really takes his responsibilities seriously. I figured you'd admire him for that."

Clay gingerly twirled the glowstick between his fingers. "Yeah. I guess that's true…"

"Hey! The party has arrived!"

Clay couldn't help but cringe at Trollex's shout, offering an awkward wave as the king swam over to greet the small group of pop trolls that had travelled down to Techno Reef. Clay had been the one to officially receive the invitation, surprisingly, but it had said that anyone from Pop village was welcome, so he'd asked Poppy to spread word that any troll who wanted to could go. In the end, Clay, Viva, Poppy, Branch, and a smattering of villagers had all decided to go.

"Welcome to Techno Reef! We've got glow sticks for days, and the party's always poppin'," Trollex called with a laugh, tossing a handful of glowsticks out, which gently floated down into the waiting pop trolls hands. "If ya'll would follow Leguna, she'll show you to the accommodations we've prepared for your stay."

A purple techno troll swam forward and gestured for everyone to follow her, which Clay was about to do when he was stopped by a hand on his wrist. He paused and turned in surprise to find Trollex with a large grin on his face.

"I'm really glad you accepted my invitation," the king hummed, releasing Clay's arm and floating backwards slightly.

"Uh," Clay said smartly, glancing around quickly to find Viva shooting his a thumbs up while giggling with her sister, "Thanks, man. Me too. I'm real curious about your culture and it's really cool to finally get to see some of the other kingdoms."

Trollex chuckled, nodding a little as he pulled a glow bracelet off from around his own wrist, swimming forward to secure it around Clay's. "Well, if you've got any questions, you know who to come find," he said with a little wink. Clay was endlessly glad for the darkness of the water around them as his cheeks flushed, just before Trollex swam away.

"I think he likes you."

"VIVA! A BELL! Damn."

Raves were, apparently, not Clay's cup of tea. Perhaps when he was younger, before, well, everything, he would've loved a good rave. But older, serious boy Clay was not having the best of times. Branch wasn't, either, but Poppy had dragged him and Viva off almost the moment they had reached the large area that the party was taking place in (He had a feeling the sisters were conspiring against him, somehow). Which left Clay, alone, at the edge of the dance floor, awkwardly watching and wishing he could covers his ears from the loud bass. Unfortunately, the helmets the visiting pop trolls had to wear in order to even be down in the reef impeded his ability to do so.

He was debating on heading back to the rooms the techno trolls had prepared for them, when Trollex appeared out of the crowd, swimming over once he spotted Clay.

"Heyyy, Live Wire!" Trollex shouted over the music with a grin, "There you are!"

"Live Wire?" Clay echoed, arching an eyebrow at Trollex, who grinned wider, his cheeks glowing slightly.

"Yeah, man! Your rave name! Everyone's gotta have a rave name, and you've got the best hair. So, Live Wire," the king explained, swimming forward to tap at the side of Clay's helmet, where his hair was bunched up against the glass.

"I assume you're making fun of me, 'cause my hair stands up like I got electrocuted?" Clay snarked, folding his arms over his chest, not looking the least amount amused.

"What? No? Why would I make fun of you?" Trollex tilted his head like a confused cuddle pup. This gave Clay pause, dropping his arms to his sides.

"I, uhm…I guess I don't know," Clay admitted, shrugging a little. He chewed on his lip a little as Trollex gave him a contemplative look.

"Let's get out of here," the king said, just loud enough for Clay to hear, before he reached out and grabbed both of Clay's hands. With a smile he began to swim backwards, pulling Clay up along through the water after him.

"Wait, wait, wait!" Clay yelped, kicking his feet to try and keep himself from dropping back down through the water and onto the dancefloor. This pulled a delighted laugh from Trollex, who shook his head.

"Just relax. I've got you," Trollex hummed, sliding his hands down Clay's arms until he had a hold on the green trolls elbows, while shifting his position so he was half swimming beneath Clay. "You'll be okay, Live Wire. I won't let you sink."

Trollex let Clay's feet hit solid ground again once they'd reached what Clay could only describe as a palace; a huge building near the center of the reef, standing prominently above all the other structures of the town, with twisting spires and glowing accents that lit up the surrounding area.

"Wow," Clay murmured, admiring the architecture, while also noting that they were far enough away from the rave that he could speak at a normal volume.

"Yeah. It's pretty lucky Barb only targeted the DJ booth when she attacked. I'm not sure how well we could've reconstructed this," Trollex said, floating next to Clay with an easy smile.

"Wait…she attacked you? Like, actually?" Clay turned his head sharply towards Trollex with a frown. He'd heard plenty about Barb's world tour, but the finer details hadn't really been openly shared. He supposed it would make sense that Barb would have to attack trolls to gain what she wanted, but knowing it was enough that the techno trolls had to reconstruct buildings was a lot. Barb had been at their meeting, and no one had treated her like she'd terrorized them.

"Yeah. But it's all good. Things worked out," Trollex said with a little shrug.

"But, what if they hadn't? You would've lost all this," Clay declared, gesturing widely at te palace and surrounding buildings.

"True. But we didn't," Trollex swam in front of Clay, taking his hands in his own with a light laugh, "You can't dwell on the 'maybes' in life, bro. You just gotta focus on the here, and now, and what you can do in the moment." Clay felt his anger dissipate at Trollex's words, though he still frowned.

"'Maybes' are what keep people safe," Clay insisted, unconsciously squeezing Trollex's hands.

"Future 'maybes', totally. But past 'maybes' can't be changed. You gotta go with the flow, bro," Trollex chuckled, tugging Clay forward a bit, "But enough of that. C'mon, I'll show you around."

Clay sighed heavily and followed after Trollex, taking note of the fact that the king had only let go of one of his hands.

"This is all really impressive," Clay praised with an easy smile while pulling his helmet off. The last stop on the tour of the palace was a series of rooms dedicated to visiting dignitaries from other kingdoms. Much like the rooms arranged for the visiting pop trolls, these rooms had been made air tight and drained of water to allow for other genres to visit without the need for helmets.

"Thanks, man," Trollex said, taking the helmet from the green troll to set aside on a table. "We've only had a few trolls come to visit so far, so it's nice to know our efforts aren't in vain."

"I thought the whole world tour thing was a while ago?"

"Oh, yeah, it was," Trollex shrugged, floating over to a couch and patting the spot net to him in invitation to Clay, "But, we're a bit harder to get to, being underwater, an' all. Plus, as much as I'd love to extend more open invitations to other kingdoms, we haven't finished hammering out all the necessary laws to make sure everyone stays safe."

"Man," Clay said with a little laugh, flopping himself onto the seat next to the king, "How do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Just…so easily flip between being dead serious and being a party guy? How do you make sure people still take you seriously?"

Trollex watched Clay for a moment, before letting out a little breath and curling his fins beneath himself. "You're talking about the whole 'fun boy' thing, aren't you?"

Clay startled, leaning away from Trollex with wide eyes. "How'd you know about that?"

"Queen Poppy gave us a bunch of pop records when the kingdoms first started talking to each other again. There was a BroZone record in there. Which, by the way, makes for some killer mixes and spinbacks! But, uh…yeah. Not hard to put two and two together when Branch was talking about his brothers, meeting before last. Poppy also might have mentioned that I shouldn't call you 'fun' before we met," Trollex said with a light laugh.

Clay groaned, dropping his face into his hands. "Is that what this is, then?" he asked, slightly muffled, "Some sort of weird intervention to show me that I can be fun and serious, not just one or the other?"

"What? No. Man, you sure do jump to a lot of conclusions," Trollex chuckled, gently taking Clay's hands away from his face. "You just genuinely seemed like a cool troll. Is it so hard to believe I might wanna get to know you better, without any ulterior motives?"

"Yes."

That startled a burst of laughter out of Trollex, making the techno king reel back and wave his hands through the air. "Oh! Oh, man. Clay," he snorted, wiping at his eyes, "Bro. Trust me, it shouldn't be hard to believe. You really made an impression on the council with your ideas at the last meeting, and Viva told me about everything you did at the golf course. You're a really impressive troll, Live Wire."

"Oh. Well…thanks," Clay chuckled awkwardly, his cheeks flushing.

"It helps that you're real cute, too," Trollex added cheekily, shooting Clay a grin.

"I-What?!" It was Clay's turn to reel back, his back hitting the arm rest of the couch as his cheeks practically caught fire.

Trollex simply laughed, leaning his arm on the back of the couch so he was a bit more in Clay's space. "Okay, so maybe I had one ulterior motive," the king admitted, "I thought, maybe, you and Viva were a thing, but I overheard her teasing you about me."

"You had headphones on!" Clay squawked, shaking his head slightly.

"Yeah. I didn't have any music playing. Sometimes it's nice to be left alone because people think you can't hear them. Plus, I get to hear things that people might not want me to know," the king confessed with a little shrug. "But, y'know, if I'm reading you all wrong, just tell me to back off. I won't take offense."

"I…okay?"

"That was definitely a question, and not enthusiastic consent," Trollex chuckled, reaching out to gently take one of Clay's hands in his own. "You gotta say the magic word."

"Please?"

Trollex snorted. "I was looking for 'yes', or something to that effect, but I suppose that works, too." With that he leaned forward and cupped Clay's jaw in his hand, his smile turning soft. "You just do what you gotta do if this doesn't feel right, okay?"

Clay gave a little nod and let his eyes slip shut as Trollex pressed their lips together. He genuinely couldn't remember the last time he'd been kissed. Was it all the way back when he'd been in BroZone? Probably. He'd always been too busy at the golf course to ever entertain the idea of getting involved with anyone. And, as much as he and Viva were teased for being in each others back pockets all the time, there really wasn't anything more than close sibling feelings between the two of them. So, as the kiss broke and Trollex shifted back, he had no real idea if it felt right or not. He did, at least, know it didn't feel wrong. He opened his eyes to find Trollex watching him intently, a nervous little smile on his face.

"Well?"

"Repeat experiments must be run in order to ensure the results are valid and consistent," Clay muttered, pulling his hand free of Trollex's in order to take the kings face in both hands and draw him in again. He smiled into the kiss at Trollex's surprised little grunt, pleased as he felt the techno king all but melt into him.

When they pulled apart the second time, Clay took note of the dumbstruck expression on Trollex's face, feeling a little curl of satisfaction in the pit of his stomach for putting the look on the kings face.

"One more? To, uh, make sure the results are consistent?" Trollex asked, his cheeks glowing a faint pink as he leaned in again.

"Just to make sure," Clay easily agreed, tugging Trollex closer so the techno king was half in his lap as their lips met again.

Clay smirked as he fixed his hair and adjusted his romper as he glanced back at Trollex, who looked like a ragdoll on the couch, one arm over his face and one fin flopped onto the floor.

"Live Wire is a perfect nickname for you," Trollex sighed, sitting up as Clay picked up his helmet. Slowly he rose from his seat and floated over to the green troll, resting a hand on the top of the helmet. "I hope…I really hope this wasn't a one time thing?"

Clay blinked, a bit taken aback by the question. "It isn't?"

"I mean," Trollex floated backwards, twisting his fingers together in front of himself nervously, "If you wanted it to be, that…that's cool. I just…I know we don't know each other super well yet or anything, but I really like you, Clay. And I'd really like to get to know you better. I know you've got all your responsibility with the pop trolls and Viva and stuff, but…I'd like to see you again. I'd like to see you more."

"Oh," Clay breathed, oddly somewhat startled that anyone would want to see him again, let along a King. "You mean that?"

"I wouldn't say it if I didn't."

"Okay. Okay! Yeah," Clay nodded, shifting the helmet in his hands to rest on his hip so he could reach out and take Trollex's hand. "Next time, you come to ours. You can stay with me."

Trollex's face lit up in a giddy grin, his cheeks flushing bright pink at Clay's words. "Already looking forward to it."

#trolls #dreamworks trolls #trolls clay #trolls trollex #claylex #trolls world tour #trolls band together #things that i wrote #prompt fill #trolls fanfic

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