hi, everyone!! ♡⸜(˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)⸝♡ so, a little bit about my blog...
'tis a space to write about lesbians and have brainrot with other people. these lesbians include: lee harker from longlegs; sevika from arcane; zoemira from kpdh; several characters from yellowjackets. ♡🕊
ao3 account
♥︎ reqs: OPEN!
♥︎ recent works:
♥︎ blog rules: no cis men plsss this space is strictly for the gays. also minors please don't follow + interact with/send asks about nsfw content (you guys, however, can interact with + send asks about sfw content if you come across it on tumblr)!! I will block liberally and that includes ageless blogs, minors who follow me, blank blogs, and anyone else I find sus or off-putting.
♥︎ what you can send in: literally anything -- headcanons, random thoughts, rambles, etc., anything about the characters and fandoms I write for. you can request for me to write certain headcanons about them (angst, smut, fluff, idc), though again, please don't take it personally if it takes me a while to get to them or if for whatever reason, I don't get to them at all!! (also good with writing about strap or g!p)
♥︎ req rules: I will not write sexual stuff for certain sex play, such as ageplay, extreme violence + aggression, raceplay, and anything else I say no to. also, please I know I said I want angst but I don't want any reqs having to do with a character or reader passing away 😭
♥︎ regarding reqs and asks: I can't guarantee I'll always respond to asks in a fast or timely matter, since I have things apart from this blog to account for and focus on. on top of that, I sometimes just might not respond to an ask at all if I'm overwhelmed and have too many, if it just rubs me the wrong way, and/or if I just don't know how to approach it myself. please respect this <3
♥︎ masterlists: lee harker 1 | lee harker 2 | sevika
♥︎ no sentences and/or parts of my writing can be reposted or reused without explicit permission from me and/or credits. same goes for specific AUs I created
Hiii I’m in love with your ten months later series to a concerning degree it’s so fucking good🥹 I’m not sure if you plan on making more parts but I’d love to see sevika taking care of drunk reader or vice versa- I literally just need a vulnerable drunk confession pleaseee
AWEEEE OMG WAIT... like I do have an idea I'm planning to write regarding sevika having to "look after" reader in a sense, but a drunk confession is so :((( IT'S CHEESY BUT I EAT IT UP!! I would love to write a little blurb on that, thank you so much.
but yes, I absolutely plan on making more parts!!! thank you so much for the kind words and enjoying it :"")
if you watched the pitt… it would be real cool if you wrote about mcvadi me thinks…
TRUST ME I WANT TO I LITERALLY HAVE READ FICS ABOUT THEM EVEN THOUGH I HAVEN'T WATCHED THE SHOW LMAOOOO there are several shows I wanna watch just to write for characters I find hot like the pitt, the l word, etc.
hiiiii!!! it's been so long since I've logged back in on tumblr. idk if u even remember me but I'm 11!!! hii!!! i have a big update. I HAVE A GFFF!!!! we've been dating for 6 months now. our first kiss was on new years!! IN THE CHURCH WASHROOM!!!! she's almost a foot taller than me hehehe... oh yknow, after our first kiss (we were both each other's first so naturally we had no clue how to make out) i buried my face in her by hugging her cuz i was embarrassed, AND YKNOW WHAT THIS BEAUTIFUL WOMAN DOES???? SHE FCKIN SNUGGLES INTO MY NECK AND STARTS KISSING IT?????? HELLOOO???? I GENUINELY GASPED OUT LOUD- AND FUCKER HAD THE AUDACITY TO LAUGH???? ahem... so yeah. now it's a lil routine we have. we sneak away after sunday mass to the church washroom and make out, she peppers my whole face with kissesssss hehhee.
just wanted to share this hehe
- 11
OMGGGGGG CONGRATS BESTIE!!!! I'M SO HAPPY FOR YOUUUUU!! also that height difference omg #need. and the neck kissing thing is so fucking cute AWEEEE, I'm so glad you guys get to explore this stuff together comfortably. and the meeting in the church bathroom is so tender and soooo so so sapphic hehe. wishing you guys the best!!!
set in the universe of this fic. (three months later, ten months later)
contains: royalty!au, sevika and reader are part of enemy kingdoms and have been pushed into an arranged marriage with each other for the sake of peace, reader is from a kingdom more emotionally restrained in nature, angst, hurt/comfort, arguments, cursing, reader was coerced into the marriage, they both kinda hate each other rn lmao
a/n: the first piece in this series (linked above) inspired by an m4f audio I came across on reddit, made by u/AugustInTheWinter -- I haven't listened to it in full, so I can't guarantee all the content in it, so please check his warnings and keep it all in mind.
dividers by: @/strangergraphics and @/anitalenia
"Why are you hiding away in here?"
Sevika doesn't even spare you a glance, eyes pinpointed to the desk. "Could ask you the same thing."
"It's not my aunt who is hosting the party," you drawl, arms hooked behind your frame. "You're the one who bears the familial responsibility of attending, my appearance is a mere formality."
A scoff gently slips from her lips, and you try not to let your gaze linger on the dusky brown of them. "Some would argue that that makes you more obligated to waste your time there. I have the perks of being her niece who she somewhat likes and will make exceptions for."
"She seems to like me too," you defend, surprise blooming in your stomach from just how true the words are. In spite of how evidently Sevika's kingdom looks down upon your own (and it's no exaggeration — you've caught the servants snickering at your awkward stance in parties one too many times), her aunt has seemed to warm up to you. She was one of the only relatives who asked you a singular question about yourself during the day of the wedding, and ever since, has made a string of attempts to include you in family events, whether it be parlour games or aiming a question at you. Though her efforts are kind and rooted in a welcoming place, sometimes you can't help but disdain the sudden attention the entire room directs at you through her inclusion.
"Yeah, that one I'm still trying to figure out."
Your lips curl into a smile filled with mirth. "Surely it can't be that difficult of a riddle to solve."
"I guess not — not if you take witchcraft into consideration," she mutters under her breath, eyes still downcast.
Your mouth twists into something sour, bitterness trickling into you from her comment. While the two of you haven't been exactly lovebirds since the wedding night, every bout of intimacy having seem to been reserved for that night only, and arguments constantly swinging between the two of you like pendulum, you didn't think you were that terrible of a companion. An ironic notion to sulk over, considering the morning after the wedding night, you had been swollen with such shame that you burned to make her life miserable for having seduced you into something you should've hated sharing with her. You two had immediately fought, exchanging cutting remarks back and forth until she left with a slam to the door. Afterwards, what remained were embers of fury that were sparked back up whenever you were met with her smirking face. And fury for all kinds of reasons — the forced marriage you never wanted, how unaffected she seemed by it, the way she kept making comments about your kingdom, your upbringing, talking down to you like you were a petulant idiot.
She hadn't taken you again since the wedding night, either. She remained in her separate chambers, and while the ordeal should've been a comfort, it only made the anger within you burn hotter. For how dare she give you a taste of what you had been missing, and then proceed to cast you aside? The only thing more infuriating than the fact that she had crushed your self-control under some low-spoken words and teasing touches was that she seemed uninterested in pursuing you again. It was a sting to your ego, one that pricked and prodded more than you would ever admit. Surely, you were not so terrible. She had seemed to enjoy herself that night if her… vigorous movements and words were any indicator of it. You had entered your bed chambers that night with every intention of having the gleeful satisfaction of brushing her away upon her attempt to have a second taste (despite how the memories still made the spot between your legs tingle). But, the first thing you were met with was still emptiness, not a wisp of the room changed since the morning she had left.
You had fluffed stomped by her chambers with strenuous efforts so that it'd wake her and leave her disgruntled. And what irks you more is how evident her desire for you is, yet how much easier it is for her to resist. Even during fights, you catch her shameless gaze wandering along your body, lingering on your chest. In the mornings when a bath is prepared for you, she remarks how you ought to let your faithful spouse watch. Yet, still, she never crosses the threshold from airy, meaningless jokes into another night of intimacy and linked bodies. You wish you knew why.
"You do not think me so detestable, do you?" you ask, trying to raise the tilt of your voice into something akin to mischief or witty banter. Anything but the underlying doubt trembling beneath.
She sets down her quill, finally raising her eyes to you, gaze sharp and unfaltering. You swallow beneath the focus of it, feeling as though the steely colour of them are daggers pinning you in place.
"No, I don't."
The three words hang in the air between you two, heavy and full of meaning. Your mind races to grasp at what she could possibly mean, every guess falling short with how conflicting her behaviours towards you have been.
Just as your mouth opens to ask for further clarification, curiosity an itch you cannot bear to strip yourself of, her mouth twitches and she says, "Just a bit of a nuisance, is all."
And just like that, she goes back to writing.
You grind your teeth together. "A nuisance you chose to marry."
"It was as little a choice for me as it was for you," she deadpans, raising a sharp brow in your direction. "You know this, so don't play stupid."
"You are to be an independent ruler of this kingdom, that earns you more autonomy than me."
"Are you implying you were forced into it?" She lets out a whoosh of breath, tossing a paper she was scanning to the side. "Because if so, you should take that up with the council, but not much I can do there."
The careless tone of her voice, as easy as a breeze, does nothing to tame the flame rousing within you. Yes, you weren't forced, persay. But, one does not have much of a choice when their parents are levelling them with the threat of either keeping two kingdoms at peace or continuing to let the bitter history carve a path into the future textbooks. How can you say no in such an instance? How could you commit yourself to such a selfish decision made wholly on account of your own desires? Both you and Sevika were symbolic representatives of your families, it made sense that the responsibility fell upon you two. But, it's been common knowledge since you were a child that Sevika not only bore obligation on her shoulders, but a respectful amount of autonomy, as well. If she had decided to toss aside the plan of marriage and let the animosity burn for an eternity, it would be accepted. For you, however? Marriage had always been the plan, your family's kingdom too unstable to withstand drought or war without the conjoined forces bought through marriage. And your own body.
You clench your jaw together. You'd be uttering a lie, one as precarious as an autumn leaf being coaxed by the wind to finally unlatch from a branch and fall into the pile of acceptance, if you were to say you hadn't thought of it. The wedding night. With every passing day, frustration burned brighter and stronger about the lack of repetition. And here you had thought she'd be itching to return to her position between your legs with how enthusiastic she had been.
Perhaps she needn't return due to possessing others who could pleasure her. And better than someone as inexperienced as you.
The thought, self-inflicted and mean, makes something waver in your stomach. You dislike the thought, viciously so. You're not even sure why. You do not love her, or even like her. But, the idea of her sneaking off to bed others makes you want to tear your hair out. Perhaps it's the disloyalty of it all, the reminder that if she is unfaithful to you, it's because she sees your marriage to be nothing but a contract that's all alliance, no feeling. And that shouldn't even sting, for it's a fact you've been long reconciled with. But, you at least hoped your spouse would be decent enough to remain solely dedicated to you. Even if just for public image.
You snap back to reality, drawing in a sharp breath. "You are well-aware of my family's position. We were not privileged enough to have "no" be an option."
"You mean you weren't. I don't remember agreeing to marry your parents."
You scoff. "Was I supposed to do? Leave them in the throes of debt and rot to themselves due to my own lack of action?"
"Debt caused by them," she mutters, the corner of her lip slightly twitching.
"You know nothing of their struggles," you snap. "Nor why they're in financial ruin."
"You're right, I don't. But, I can judge it all the same. As well as them pawning you off to take care of it."
You clench your teeth together. You despise just how easily she's able to slither her way under the layer of skin coating your body and dig into your deepest insecurities. Because it's true, at the end of the day. Nuance thrown to the ocean surrounding her kingdom, that is what your family has done. Given you away to a foreign land, and to a family filled to the brim with people who spit upon the residents of your home, so that their own kingdom can benefit. You know it will reap rewards and shower the following generations with full bellies and smiling faces, and at the end of the day, you are but a singular person in the amidst the motion of centuries. But, still, it stung when it was clear your parents proposed the idea as anything but an open question.
"And yet, you accepted," you grit out.
"It's not my job to keep you protected. It benefited my kingdom, and that's all I care about."
"Hm, yes, a very noble stance — a person's feelings or autonomy does not matter, but at least a new alliance is earned."
Her jaw tightens, and a spark of satisfaction burns inside you, hot and wanting to get her just as enraged as she does you.
She drops the quill into the ink pot, raising her eyes to you as she leans back into her chair. The position reeks of overly confident dominance, her taut legs spread and a smirk inching its way along her mouth. Eyes as sharp as the crystal statues surrounding her castle (tacky, your mother had called them, and you cannot even fault her, for even you have too much pride to admit how beautiful you thought them), she levels you with a stare that is too composed for your liking. The only fragment of her sculpted face that you can drag a drop of twisted joy from is how tense her jaw is, something you've come to notice is a sure sign of her irritation.
"Listen — this marriage is nothing but a promise made to keep our people from killing each other. I have no interest in being your friend, your spouse or your lover," she says in a flat, no-nonsense voice, the edge of her voice icy with an unspoken demand to absorb all of her words, including the last which was said with a cruel smile. "Whatever led you to this is beyond my care. I got what I wanted, and considering how easily your family gave you up, they did too. And while I'm not exactly keen on being shackled in the public eye to the descendant of a kingdom so shit-deep in debt and built on nothing but thinly veiled repression, I'll shut up and do it for my people. You should learn to do the same rather than complain."
First, there is anger. Boiling anger bubbled to fill the depths of your body, ricocheting off walls and echoing with the insults targeted towards your family. She is correct, of course she is. Conservatism and repression of all things natural had become the strongest moral compass employed by your family for guidance. And the debt was meant to be kept as private as possible, but you're certain it had been mentioned to Sevika in one of the several meetings taken place to debate on negotiations. And even if that hadn't been the case, you know Sevika well enough by now to know that there is nothing she misses, no ends worth looking into that she will not delve into and unravel. Your own family including.
Immediately after the ember of anger washes out, pool of embarrassment begins to leak into your stomach, sticky and wet and impossible to ignore with how it begins to cling to your conscious. Were you truly just being a brat? You had thought this entire time that you had every right to harbor resentment for this marriage, for your newfound wife. But, perhaps you were not focusing largely enough on the positives bred from the marriage, the ways in which it has released both your kingdoms from ages of war and conflict. The fact that she may have possessed, and subsequently uttered, a notion that will inspire reconsideration on your end makes you wince. You do not want to give her the pleasure, nor the validation. You will not admit to how childish and selfish her words make you feel, the picture she painted feeling more like a reflection than a work of fiction.
Besides, a petulant part of you wants to wail at Sevika that at least she had had a choice, and she had gotten to experience freedom before being restrained in this hateful marriage. She got to experience a lifetime of it — she got to drain the sweet juices of life and sex and mingling and leadership over one's life. And you? You were simply moved from one place you felt estranged in to the next one, chain still dangling by your wrist and only wound about a new bed, a new place, and a new person to call the commands.
You want to give into that irked part within you, the one that insists she still does not understand. Not the part that is beginning to rethink the self-centeredness of your thoughts. And definitely not the small segment of your heart that is aching at her severely cold rejection of ever forging a bond with you. Especially after the night you two had shared. Naive you, you had thought such a night pronounced you two as lovers, even if animosity continued to exist between you two. It seems you still have so much to learn, for despite the intimacy you had both indulged in on the night of the wedding, it seems to have had no affect on her perception of you or the objective, harsh truth of your marriage. That it has no place for feeling, friendliness or love. It is simply an agreement. A testament you had been well aware of since the start, but to hear her so confidently declare that there would never be a future between you two, even one as civil friends, for her opinion of the marriage contained that little care for your feelings, stung more than you could have anticipated. You had given her things that night, things you couldn't take back, firsts that would now forever be attached to her.
And to her, it was of no note. It was simply another obligation to be fulfilled within this deal. You cannot even be livid at her for it, for breeding was a sure and certain net she could toss herself into upon the gust of any angry accusations you throw at her. It was the perfect justification, a necessity that you two had to reluctantly engage in together.
But, she had kissed you too. She had fallen asleep by your side that night. How stupid you were to think it meant anything.
How can one person be so certain of the absence of their desire and the impossibility of it to grow? Were you so repelling?
"I will complain as much as I please," you press through grinding teeth. "For you and I will never resemble each other in this situation. Perhaps you find it easy to ignore your own wants and desires in such an arrangement because you see this marriage as inconsequential as having a pet dog in the castle. But, I am not so cavalier and thoughtless to the extent where I can ignore all the natural emotions and sentiments stirred within a situation like this. And for you to expect me to reveals your own shortcomings most glaringly."
She raises a singular eyebrow at you, almost as though contemplating the audacity of your words. She seems to settle upon amusement, her words trickling into a chuckle. "And I won't deny them." As her hushed laughter fades, so do the traces of mirth in her words. "But, trust me, I don't plan to lose sleep over viewing this marriage exactly as it is. It's not my fault you pictured it as something it isn't."
"I didn't—"
"You did. One night doesn't change shit."
No. Don't let your eyes burn. Wait. Wait.
"Neither does two weeks, does it seem."
She shakes her head gently, eyes as charged as the sky just before it descends into a storm, just hinting and whispering of chaos to come, at barely restrained energy. "Neither will three months, or five, or ten."
Nor an eternity, you want to say. But, all you can muster the strength to do is to leave. Not the marriage, not her castle, not her kingdom. But, simply, the library.
Half-rebellions is all the action you seem capable of.
set in the universe of this fic. (three months later, ten months later)
contains: royalty!au, sevika and reader are part of enemy kingdoms and have been pushed into an arranged marriage with each other for the sake of peace, reader is from a kingdom more emotionally restrained in nature, angst, hurt/comfort, arguments, cursing, reader was coerced into the marriage, they both kinda hate each other rn lmao
a/n: the first piece in this series (linked above) inspired by an m4f audio I came across on reddit, made by u/AugustInTheWinter -- I haven't listened to it in full, so I can't guarantee all the content in it, so please check his warnings and keep it all in mind.
dividers by: @/strangergraphics and @/anitalenia
"Why are you hiding away in here?"
Sevika doesn't even spare you a glance, eyes pinpointed to the desk. "Could ask you the same thing."
"It's not my aunt who is hosting the party," you drawl, arms hooked behind your frame. "You're the one who bears the familial responsibility of attending, my appearance is a mere formality."
A scoff gently slips from her lips, and you try not to let your gaze linger on the dusky brown of them. "Some would argue that that makes you more obligated to waste your time there. I have the perks of being her niece who she somewhat likes and will make exceptions for."
"She seems to like me too," you defend, surprise blooming in your stomach from just how true the words are. In spite of how evidently Sevika's kingdom looks down upon your own (and it's no exaggeration — you've caught the servants snickering at your awkward stance in parties one too many times), her aunt has seemed to warm up to you. She was one of the only relatives who asked you a singular question about yourself during the day of the wedding, and ever since, has made a string of attempts to include you in family events, whether it be parlour games or aiming a question at you. Though her efforts are kind and rooted in a welcoming place, sometimes you can't help but disdain the sudden attention the entire room directs at you through her inclusion.
"Yeah, that one I'm still trying to figure out."
Your lips curl into a smile filled with mirth. "Surely it can't be that difficult of a riddle to solve."
"I guess not — not if you take witchcraft into consideration," she mutters under her breath, eyes still downcast.
Your mouth twists into something sour, bitterness trickling into you from her comment. While the two of you haven't been exactly lovebirds since the wedding night, every bout of intimacy having seem to been reserved for that night only, and arguments constantly swinging between the two of you like pendulum, you didn't think you were that terrible of a companion. An ironic notion to sulk over, considering the morning after the wedding night, you had been swollen with such shame that you burned to make her life miserable for having seduced you into something you should've hated sharing with her. You two had immediately fought, exchanging cutting remarks back and forth until she left with a slam to the door. Afterwards, what remained were embers of fury that were sparked back up whenever you were met with her smirking face. And fury for all kinds of reasons — the forced marriage you never wanted, how unaffected she seemed by it, the way she kept making comments about your kingdom, your upbringing, talking down to you like you were a petulant idiot.
She hadn't taken you again since the wedding night, either. She remained in her separate chambers, and while the ordeal should've been a comfort, it only made the anger within you burn hotter. For how dare she give you a taste of what you had been missing, and then proceed to cast you aside? The only thing more infuriating than the fact that she had crushed your self-control under some low-spoken words and teasing touches was that she seemed uninterested in pursuing you again. It was a sting to your ego, one that pricked and prodded more than you would ever admit. Surely, you were not so terrible. She had seemed to enjoy herself that night if her… vigorous movements and words were any indicator of it. You had entered your bed chambers that night with every intention of having the gleeful satisfaction of brushing her away upon her attempt to have a second taste (despite how the memories still made the spot between your legs tingle). But, the first thing you were met with was still emptiness, not a wisp of the room changed since the morning she had left.
You had stomped by her chambers with strenuous efforts so that it'd wake her and leave her disgruntled. And what irks you more is how evident her desire for you is, yet how much easier it is for her to resist. Even during fights, you catch her shameless gaze wandering along your body, lingering on your chest. In the mornings when a bath is prepared for you, she remarks how you ought to let your faithful spouse watch. Yet, still, she never crosses the threshold from airy, meaningless jokes into another night of intimacy and linked bodies. You wish you knew why.
"You do not think me so detestable, do you?" you ask, trying to raise the tilt of your voice into something akin to mischief or witty banter. Anything but the underlying doubt trembling beneath.
She sets down her quill, finally raising her eyes to you, gaze sharp and unfaltering. You swallow beneath the focus of it, feeling as though the steely colour of them are daggers pinning you in place.
"No, I don't."
The three words hang in the air between you two, heavy and full of meaning. Your mind races to grasp at what she could possibly mean, every guess falling short with how conflicting her behaviours towards you have been.
Just as your mouth opens to ask for further clarification, curiosity an itch you cannot bear to strip yourself of, her mouth twitches and she says, "Just a bit of a nuisance, is all."
And just like that, she goes back to writing.
You grind your teeth together. "A nuisance you chose to marry."
"It was as little a choice for me as it was for you," she deadpans, raising a sharp brow in your direction. "You know this, so don't play stupid."
"You are to be an independent ruler of this kingdom, that earns you more autonomy than me."
"Are you implying you were forced into it?" She lets out a whoosh of breath, tossing a paper she was scanning to the side. "Because if so, you should take that up with the council, but not much I can do there."
The careless tone of her voice, as easy as a breeze, does nothing to tame the flame rousing within you. And you detest it. Hate how easily she rouses you into emotions of anger and despair, and worst, gets you acting on them. You were raised to keep it all contained internally, let it rage inside without any sort of aggressive outlet. It's easier said than done, that's for certain. Perhaps that's why you had behaved so freely on the night of the wedding. You knew you were no longer at home, under the guard of your parents. You were beneath someone who was as crude and openly salacious as all the warnings. There was no need to control lashing out, you were, at least for that night, in a space free to do it. So much frustration had poured out towards her, the wedding, your life. You had thought it would be contained to that night, but no. She has just as easily sparked back your anger since, and with every occasion she does, you find it harder to lose your willpower in keeping your words and actions tamed. Something else she's stolen from you.
Yes, you weren't forced, persay. But, one does not have much of a choice when their parents are levelling them with the threat of either keeping two kingdoms at peace or continuing to let the bitter history carve a path into the future textbooks. How can you say no in such an instance? How could you commit yourself to such a selfish decision made wholly on account of your own desires? Both you and Sevika were symbolic representatives of your families, it made sense that the responsibility fell upon you two. But, it's been common knowledge since you were a child that Sevika not only bore obligation on her shoulders, but a respectful amount of autonomy, as well. If she had decided to toss aside the plan of marriage and let the animosity burn for an eternity, it would be accepted. For you, however? Marriage had always been the plan, your family's kingdom too unstable to withstand drought or war without the conjoined forces bought through marriage. And your own body.
You clench your jaw together. You'd be uttering a lie, one as precarious as an autumn leaf being coaxed by the wind to finally unlatch from a branch and fall into the pile of acceptance, if you were to say you hadn't thought of it. The wedding night. With every passing day, frustration burned brighter and stronger about the lack of repetition. And here you had thought she'd be itching to return to her position between your legs with how enthusiastic she had been.
Perhaps she needn't return due to possessing others who could pleasure her. And better than someone as inexperienced as you.
The thought, self-inflicted and mean, makes something waver in your stomach. You dislike the thought, viciously so. You're not even sure why. You do not love her, or even like her. But, the idea of her sneaking off to bed others makes you want to tear your hair out. Perhaps it's the disloyalty of it all, the reminder that if she is unfaithful to you, it's because she sees your marriage to be nothing but a contract that's all alliance, no feeling. It's even worse than the jealousy you had felt on the night of your wedding, the one stemming from knowing she has bed others before you. And neither should even sting, for those are both facts you should have been long reconciled with. But, you at least hoped your spouse would be decent enough to remain solely dedicated to you. Even if just for public image.
You snap back to reality, drawing in a sharp breath. "You are well-aware of my family's position. We were not privileged enough to have "no" be an option."
"You mean you weren't. I don't remember agreeing to marry your parents."
You scoff. "Was I supposed to do? Leave them in the throes of debt and rot to themselves due to my own lack of action?"
"Debt caused by them," she mutters, the corner of her lip slightly twitching.
"You know nothing of their struggles," you snap. "Nor why they're in financial ruin."
"You're right, I don't. But, I can judge it all the same. As well as them pawning you off to take care of it."
You clench your teeth together. You despise just how easily she's able to slither her way under the layer of skin coating your body and dig into your deepest insecurities. Because it's true, at the end of the day. Nuance thrown to the ocean surrounding her kingdom, that is what your family has done. Given you away to a foreign land, and to a family filled to the brim with people who spit upon the residents of your home, so that their own kingdom can benefit. You know it will reap rewards and shower the following generations with full bellies and smiling faces, and at the end of the day, you are but a singular person in the amidst the motion of centuries. But, still, it stung when it was clear your parents proposed the idea as anything but an open question.
"And yet, you accepted," you grit out.
"It's not my job to keep you protected. It benefited my kingdom, and that's all I care about."
"Hm, yes, a very noble stance — a person's feelings or autonomy does not matter, but at least a new alliance is earned."
Her jaw tightens, and a spark of satisfaction burns inside you, hot and wanting to get her just as enraged as she does you.
She drops the quill into the ink pot, raising her eyes to you as she leans back into her chair. The position reeks of overly confident dominance, her taut legs spread and a smirk inching its way along her mouth. Eyes as sharp as the crystal statues surrounding her castle (tacky, your mother had called them, and you cannot even fault her, for even you have too much pride to admit how beautiful you thought them), she levels you with a stare that is too composed for your liking. The only fragment of her sculpted face that you can drag a drop of twisted joy from is how tense her jaw is, something you've come to notice is a sure sign of her irritation.
"Listen — this marriage is nothing but a promise made to keep our people from killing each other. I have no interest in being your friend, your spouse or your lover," she says in a flat, no-nonsense voice, the edge of her voice icy with an unspoken demand to absorb all of her words, including the last which was said with a cruel smile. "Whatever led you to this is beyond my care. I got what I wanted, and considering how easily your family gave you up, they did too. And while I'm not exactly keen on being shackled in the public eye to the descendant of a kingdom so shit-deep in debt and built on nothing but thinly veiled repression, I'll shut up and do it for my people. You should learn to do the same rather than complain."
First, there is anger. Boiling anger bubbled to fill the depths of your body, ricocheting off walls and echoing with the insults targeted towards your family. She is correct, of course she is. Conservatism and repression of all things natural had become the strongest moral compass employed by your family for guidance. And the debt was meant to be kept as private as possible, but you're certain it had been mentioned to Sevika in one of the several meetings taken place to debate on negotiations. And even if that hadn't been the case, you know Sevika well enough by now to know that there is nothing she misses, no ends worth looking into that she will not delve into and unravel. Your own family including.
Immediately after the ember of anger washes out, pool of embarrassment begins to leak into your stomach, sticky and wet and impossible to ignore with how it begins to cling to your conscious. Were you truly just being a brat? You had thought this entire time that you had every right to harbor resentment for this marriage, for your newfound wife. But, perhaps you were not focusing largely enough on the positives bred from the marriage, the ways in which it has released both your kingdoms from ages of war and conflict. The fact that she may have possessed, and subsequently uttered, a notion that will inspire reconsideration on your end makes you wince. You do not want to give her the pleasure, nor the validation. You will not admit to how childish and selfish her words make you feel, the picture she painted feeling more like a reflection than a work of fiction.
Besides, a petulant part of you wants to wail at Sevika that at least she had had a choice, and she had gotten to experience freedom before being restrained in this hateful marriage. She got to experience a lifetime of it — she got to drain the sweet juices of life and sex and mingling and leadership over one's life. And you? You were simply moved from one place you felt estranged in to the next one, chain still dangling by your wrist and only wound about a new bed, a new place, and a new person to call the commands.
You want to give into that irked part within you, the one that insists she still does not understand. (Not in angry, raised voice, for that is something you need to begin tempering again, for as releasing it has been, it's been daunting to know your own capabilities.) Not the part that is beginning to rethink the self-centeredness of your thoughts. And definitely not the small segment of your heart that is aching at her severely cold rejection of ever forging a bond with you. Especially after the night you two had shared. Naive you, you had thought such a night pronounced you two as lovers, even if animosity continued to exist between you two. It seems you still have so much to learn, for despite the intimacy you had both indulged in on the night of the wedding, it seems to have had no affect on her perception of you or the objective, harsh truth of your marriage. That it has no place for feeling, friendliness or love. It is simply an agreement. A testament you had been well aware of since the start, but to hear her so confidently declare that there would never be a future between you two, even one as civil friends, for her opinion of the marriage contained that little care for your feelings, stung more than you could have anticipated. You had given her things that night, things you couldn't take back, firsts that would now forever be attached to her.
And to her, it was of no note. It was simply another obligation to be fulfilled within this deal. You cannot even be livid at her for it, for breeding was a sure and certain net she could toss herself into upon the gust of any angry accusations you throw at her. It was the perfect justification, a necessity that you two had to reluctantly engage in together.
But, she had kissed you too. She had fallen asleep by your side that night. How stupid you were to think it meant anything. You're now sure that for her, it was nothing but a night of short-lived passion. Marriage and sex and love needn't coexist for her, and who knows if they ever did? Perhaps she had always expected a loveless marriage. But, you hate to know that that night meant absolutely nothing to her, it was just a repeating motion she had mastered years before.
And how can one person be so certain of the absence of their desire and the impossibility of it to grow? Were you so repelling?
"I will complain as much as I please," you press through grinding teeth. "For you and I will never resemble each other in this situation. Perhaps you find it easy to ignore your own wants and desires in such an arrangement because you see this marriage as inconsequential as having a pet dog in the castle. But, I am not so cavalier and thoughtless to the extent where I can ignore all the natural emotions and sentiments stirred within a situation like this. And for you to expect me to reveals your own shortcomings most glaringly."
She raises a singular eyebrow at you, almost as though contemplating the audacity of your words. She seems to settle upon amusement, her words trickling into a chuckle. "And I won't deny them." As her hushed laughter fades, so do the traces of mirth in her words. "But, trust me, I don't plan to lose sleep over viewing this marriage exactly as it is. It's not my fault you pictured it as something it isn't."
"I didn't—"
"You did. One night doesn't change shit."
No. Don't let your eyes burn. Wait. Wait.
"Neither does two weeks, does it seem."
She shakes her head gently, eyes as charged as the sky just before it descends into a storm, just hinting and whispering of chaos to come, at barely restrained energy. "Neither will three months, or five, or ten."
Nor an eternity, you want to say. But, all you can muster the strength to do is to leave. Not the marriage, not her castle, not her kingdom. But, simply, the library.
Half-rebellions is all the action you seem capable of.
contains: royalty!au, sevika and reader are part of enemy kingdoms and have been pushed into an arranged marriage with each other for the sake of peace, mentions of violence between kingdoms, smut (minors + ageless blogs dni), sevika has a dick, breeding kink + talk of reader being pregnant, corruption kink (sevika goading reader about being inexperienced and from a kingdom where chastity is prized), hate sex (insulting each other, cursing at each other, reader has thoughts of wanting to be violent with sevika, lots of taunting), kinks that are not negotiated (breeding, pain play, humiliation), reader uses pain play to lash out at sevika (ex. tightening their thighs around sevika's head, scratching sevika), sevika goes faster and harder out of frustration with reader (sevika doesn't intend to cause reader pain, but reader states not knowing if it's meant to be punishment or reward, but does enjoy the pacing), dubious consent (sevika seduces reader into having sex with her, sevika brings up breeding since it's what's expected to be part of their marriage, but later legitimately confirms reader's consent to her coming inside), reader is called "princess" and "wife," reader's body is referred to with the terms: "pussy," "cunt"
a/n: this is inspired by an m4f audio I came across on reddit, made by u/AugustInTheWinter -- I haven't listened to it in full, so I can't guarantee all the content in it, so please check his warnings and keep it all in mind.
dividers by: @/strangergraphics and @/anitalenia
you should despise her. your hatred for her should be so fiery, so sizzling, that it has the strength to burn through skin and seep to her bones. you should have hatched a plan to kill her tonight, to brace a pillow against that ridiculous smirk and finally seek vengeance for all of what her people have done to yours. for all the friends that have been harmed and cruelly extracted from this earth due to the people under her father's reign. it shouldn't matter that this is your wedding night with her, that this day is meant to represent a union that births peace, sealed by the curt kiss shared at the altar.
you should hate her. you should be taking out years of pent up rage on her.
so, then, why are you mewling on the large, grand bed that had been covered in layers of luxurious velvet blankets, meticulously crafted for a night of comfort? why are your thighs tight around her head as her tongue slathers spit all over your folds, both of which you can feel dripping with thick wetness from every gush that leaks out of your pussy? why is your mind numbed and wrung out from every burning ember of rage that had bored holes into your thoughts just hours ago? why are you bucking your hips against her soft lips, the bump of her scar sliding across your clit? why is nothing on your mind but her?
"not so mouthy now, huh?" she drawls, and you grit your teeth at the snark in her voice.
"I think you're already doing enough mouthing for the both of us," you try to retort back, your voice too whine-filled to sound firm with conviction.
"well, someone's gotta get this pussy wet," she mumbles against your cunt, landing a sloppy kiss to your clit that sends pleasure skyrocketing through you. "it might as well be me, considering you're my wife."
your stomach flips at the word, the connotation one that's so possessive that you nearly forget that she's a stranger at best, a lifelong enemy at worse.
"o-only doing it out of obligation, then?" you challenge, your voice unravelling at the seams as her long finger begins to push into the tight rim of your cunt, sliding against the rough texture of your insides.
"yeah," she responds, her grey eyes honed in on you, like a predator finding her next meal caught in a trap. holding your gaze in her own, she flattens her tongue, dragging it up the swollen shape of your clit, sending your vision aflame as you squeeze your eyes shut. "why, you think I'd actually want you?"
just out of spite, you lock your legs tighter, keeping her face shoved into your pussy. a raspy, deep groan hurls from her mouth, and you grin in victory at the sound of it. however, your satisfied expression is soon shattered as her lips encircle your clit and begin peppering it with short-lived, hard sucks that send you shaking like a leaf.
"yeah, I think you do," you laugh, the noise half a broken gasp with the deep throb sizzling in your sensitive bud as she tends to it diligently.
the sharp points of her prosthetic arm dig into the plush of your thigh, shoving it from her cheek so that she has space to breathe, sending you a sharp glare.
"fucking brat," she mutters. yet still, her eyes flutter shut as her tongue begins flicking wet little zig-zags against you, the quick, pressured motions making you tighten on her fingers. "I'm only doing this so you're wet enough to take my dick."
the filthy words send your walls spasming, clamping rapidly over her two thick fingers that are plunging into you without relent. streams of liquid gush from your hole, pouring out and immediately getting swiped up by the flat of her tongue, which continues lapping at your clit. the pleasure derived from the movements prolongs your orgasm, thighs aching with the amount of tension that punctures through them as you freeze up from your orgasm.
she darkly chuckles against you. "that did it for you?"
she slides her fingers out of your hole, which clenches down in protest, immediately longing for something to stretch it full. you hope that by sheer willpower, such a thought can be wrenched out of your cloud of lust. you shouldn't want any part of her inside of you. her fingers are already bad enough as is. after all, you had vowed to yourself earlier that day that you wouldn't let her brush a mere finger on even a patch of skin.
but, then, she had cornered you to the wall, towering over you, her breath, smelling of cigar smoke, fanning over your face and coating it in bitter warmth. she had taunted you for how inexperienced you must be, for she knew that your people like to keep their chastity until marriage. she had asked you in a low, velvety voice if you had ever fucked yourself, if you had ever sated your curiosity of what it is to have cock stuffing your holes full. you had kept your mouth clamped shut, but apparently it was to no avail, considering she was a master of body language. the stiffening of your body, the hitch of your breath, the widening of your eyes -- they had all proven to be telltale signs for her, unravelling your secrets of using dildos of different sizes and lengths, burying them to the hilt until your sweet spot was slammed into with every thrust.
her lips had brushed over your cheek, gliding over the pimples that had been produced by the sugary sweets that had been fed to you at the engagement party. she had whispered that she has a real one, one that's warm and that you'll feel getting harder inside you. one with balls filled with seed, ready to be poured into you. the lewdness of her words had sent equal measures of fascination and disgust unfurling within you. your kingdom was vehemently against such crude language, as well as the embracing of heated touches and aroused-filled gazes. everything was kept to the walls of a home, hidden from the public. it had even taken months of scouring for you to secure yourself the most scandalous of erotic books, and you're royalty, for goodness' sake.
but, those books don't at all compare to the real thing. not when the head of sevika's cock is beginning to sink into your hole, hot and soft as it glides through your thick arousal. you should be shoving her away, kicking at her crotch, cursing at her. but, instead, your legs instinctually wrap around her trimmed waist, hands desperately clawing at her back through the white, billowy shirt she sported all day under her velvet vest that had been embroidered with the fire emblem of her kingdom. you had nearly spat on it when her face, twisted with snark, had come down the alter and stopped in front of yours.
"oh," you moan, the noise nearly wounded with how high and desperate it is. your eyes are squeezed shut, guilt churning in your stomach, holding you back from resting your gaze upon her and sharing something as vulnerable as eye contact. but, still, you feel her, all over. you feel the thick weight of her arms, propped on either side of your head, caging you in. you feel the hard grooves of her toned stomach flattened against yours. you feel the ripples of her back muscles as she tenses up, clearly resisting from going to fast. a fact which nearly makes you want to flutter your eyes open.
when she bottoms out, her balls gently smacking against your swollen, drenched pussy lips, a strangled cry flies from your mouth.
and your body immediately is seized by humiliation. you sound downright eager for her cock. what's wrong with you?
needing to lash out at anything, anyone, you grumble out through clenched teeth: "your size isn't that impressive. don't tell me your pacing is just as disappointing."
a soft snicker hits your face. "you trying to goad me into fucking you harder? who knew the princess was this nasty?"
your eyelids fling open, purely to send her a rage-filled glare. it's difficult, though, to keep your features as locked into tight anger when you take in the intimacy of the position. hovering above you, her dark hair fans over her face, the candlelight of the room coating her in a warm, orange glow. her lips are perked up in a small smile, and you notice for the first time it sends her nose wrinkling. the endearing detail makes you falter for a moment -- it's the first soft thing you have picked up on from her. it humanizes her, makes her undeniably real. a detailed person beyond the years of animosity between your respective kingdoms. your wife.
you swallow hard at the thought, looking away.
she tsks. "none of that," she mutters, her large hand cupping your jaw and coaxing you to look back at her. "you're gonna look at me when I take you."
as if to prove her point, her hips lift from their brace on yours, slipping her cock almost all the way out, only the head sucked in. a split second later, she rams back in, the entire length of her thrusting hard into you.
you softly wail, your hands darting up to find purchase on her curved biceps, digging your nails into them as she continues to push in and out of you, steadily pumping inside. your head sinks deeper into the plush pillow, vision slightly blurred as you watch her teeth bite down hard together, her little gap winking at you as she grunts with every thrust. her dark eyebrows are scrunched up, painting lines into her forehead, which is shiny with sweat. to know she's as affected as you is a cold comfort, and a stubborn urge stabs through you to break her down so she's even more of a mess than you are.
your legs tighten around her waist, urging her to press in closer, the weight of her strong, heavy body coating your skin in toasty warmth. your nails rake down her back, and you delight in the choked out gasp that shoots from her lips.
"what the fuck?" she hisses, her hand diving into your hair to yank you back, eyes narrowed on you as she keeps pumping in.
you could nearly cackle at her incredulity. "you deserve worse," you spit out.
she rolls her eyes, her breaths laboured as she says, "you know, I thought I'd go easy on you, but you're just a fucking--"
her hips begin to speed up, slamming into you with every push and pull, wet sounds ringing through the room from both of you being moist with sweat. her dick prods at your spongey little spot, and it causes bolts of ecstasy to zap through your body, making you nearly scream in pleasure, your mouth falling open. you can't tell if these brutal movements are meant to be a punishment, a reward or her simply giving into her desires that she had forced dormant up until this moment. no matter what, though, it makes your body shake under hers, your limbs scrambling to cling onto her tighter, wanting her full weight burying you into the mattress.
"you're just the same as the rest of them," she grunts, her voice biting and hard.
"and--and, ah, you aren't?" you pant, trying to sound sure of yourself in spite of the whines littering your words. "you disgust me."
to punctuate your words even further, you dig your nails into her arms again, wanting to mark her up and have her look upon the scratches the next day and remember that she's not invincible with you.
the pain only seems to egg her on, and she's rutting even faster now, her cock driving into you at an unfaltering pace that has pathetic little moans tumbling from your mouth, your entire pussy throbbing with arousal and unadulterated need.
"yeah? and whose seed do you think is gonna be buried in your tight little cunt tonight, huh? mine," she whispers, a satisfied, wicked grin curling at her lips. "the seed of your enemy, the load of the woman you hate, buried in you until you're carrying our heir."
it shouldn't make your mind so malleable, but the thought of her warm come getting dumped into your hole, pushed in until it swims in your womb, then getting your stomach swollen, has you sobbing in pleasure. the mere thought of how it'd feel sensation-wise, hot and thick, and the connotations of her claiming your body like this, truly uniting your beings in this way, has you dizzy. maybe the hopeless romantic in you is just piercing through this situation, but you can't resist how it makes your hole clench on her.
"I--I--" you stumble, too wrecked with desire to form a comeback.
"that's it, just give in," she breathes out, her dick continuing to jam into you, saliva hanging from her open mouth and splattering onto your cheek. the cool wetness of it has you shivering, fire rupturing through your body when her tongue drags along the blob, smearing it all over your cheek.
your own tongue lolls out on instinct, and you gasp softly when it accidentally swipes hers. her hips stutter, her head raising slightly, the two of you sharing a lingering stare that has your skin heating up. god, why are her eyes so pretty?
it takes only a split second of those very eyes glancing to your mouth before you surge up, capturing her lips.
she meets you there immediately, her lips pushing against yours, swallowing down your moans as her thumb begins to roughly flick at your clit. her tongue roves in, massaging yours with the careful precision only years of practice would have perfected. you're surprised at how bitter that knowledge tastes on your gums, through the crevices of your teeth. she's the first to take you this way, and as much as you hate it, you feel tethered to her now. she's the first to be inside of you, and feel your body in all its most private ways, and it makes you feel infinitely attached in a way that seems all too soft and tender for a marriage born out of desperation. but, her? she's had others before you. it causes an unexpected bolt of jealousy through you. you want this to matter to her too.
you kiss her harder, yearning for reassurance in some way, for you dare not confess to her where your thoughts are lingering. thankfully, she delivers, her teeth skimming along the plush of your bottom lip, and when you gasp from the sting of it, she sucks on your tongue, the motions sloppy and smooth.
"can I come in you?" she mumbles against your mouth. "we don't have to."
your fingers dig harder into her skin. any alternative feels unfathomable. "no, no, please, come in me. I--I need it, need your seed so bad, wanna feel it--"
she silences you with a harsh kiss, your teeth clashing together as she continues to furiously rub at your clit. when her finger pointedly strokes against the side of you hood, a surprisingly sensitive spot for you, your body suddenly seizes then breaks into long, rippling shudders. a long, husky wail breaks through the sounds of heavy breathing and skin slapping, your hole fluttering hard, the motions barely registering in your head with the thick weight of her cock stretching you out.
moments later, a loud groan, one that sounds so deep that you suspect it comes from somewhere in her tummy, bursts from her mouth. she jerks her cock into you with two more thrusts that are so pointed and strong that they send your body jolting further up the mattress, and then, she's coming. a choked out whine creeps up your throat as you feel her thick come beginning to leak into you, filling you with streams of liquid that makes her dick's movements in you squelch even louder. it coats your insides, stuffing you impossibly full as she continues rocking inside, fucking it deep into you.
when her movements slow to a stop, her body sags against you, forehead dropping to your shoulder. the musky scent of sweat and juices surround you both, and your eyes grow heavy with the weight of exhaustion.
legs still wrapped around her, her softening cock trapped inside of you, you absent-mindedly stroke your fingers over the scratches you left on her back. you suddenly wonder if you ought to apologize, but immediately absolve yourself of the sentiment. you've let her in enough tonight. both literally and metaphorically.
you want to push her off, and tell her to retire to her separate chambers for the night. but, her weight on you is too comforting, like a solid blanket. and your emotions are too hooked into her right now, chest aching at the idea of her leaving.
you're rummaging your mind for what to say, how to behave, when a soft snore rumbles from her, her torso trembling slightly from the movement of it.
you gulp. you should be telling her to wake up and leave. you should be shuffling out from under her and spending the night alone. you should be plotting a way to take advantage of this situation.
so, then, why are you letting yourself lull to sleep? resting easily in the arms of your -- well, your wife.
you choose not to think on it. just for tonight. just for your wedding night.
How do you think modern Lee would dress? Would her style be that different from the movie?
- 🌸
ooooo, I think it would be pretty similar to the movie, honestly. just lots solid colours, not much playing around with patterns or anything. just as modest as in the film, I feel like she'd prefer covering up for the most part and would prefer the sweaters she gets to wear during winter and fall time because they're also cozy hehe. I might just be projecting LOLLL but I do see her style leaning towards masculinity or androgyny -- think slacks and casual button-ups, crewnecks and jeans, plain t-shirt tucked into dad jeans, etc. I also posted some pics here a while back on what I could envision her wearing!
hi queennn!!! just wanna say even tho i haven't been active over a year (college sucksss) i still revisit your longlegs fics every now and then😭 u TRULY made the fandom and fanfic space sm better with your writing and talent thank you 🫶🫶
PLEASEEEEE YOU'RE SO SWEET T.T this is such a kind ask to send omg :(((( honestly, that period of when I was writing so actively for lee was one of my best times writing and is one of the times I felt the most creatively motivated and happy doing fanfiction. so, it makes me soooo happy that what I wrote back then is looked back on positively and still enjoyed ;-; I really adored writing for lee, she was such a fun character to work with and I loved the community formed with all of us who wanted to see more of her, like it truly was so lovely. thank you sm :"")
I hope college gets better!! I know it's a lot of hard work so try to reserve days or even times in the day where you do something that brings you ease and happiness so you can get a break! 💗💗 good luck with everything, you'll do amazing!!
The thing I loveee about knight stories is their split in loyalty. Like at first they are loyal to the throne, to always protect and never betray. But when she falls for the princess, which she isn’t supposed to do cus she’s loyal to the throne, there’s this break… now she’s only loyal to the princess ykwim. I’m very bad at articulating 😭😭😭😭
And like the YEARNING cus she’s doing something she’s not supposed to be doing. She finding reasons to hang around the princess even when she’s off-duty and she finds excuses to dismiss potential suitors. She eliminates anyone tht might hurt the princess physically and mentally. Yeah. LOTS of yearning
And she’d deffo be either a SubTop or ServiceTop cus she’d do *anything* the princess asked of her
-🔑 hehehhehehe google feral reaction stickers on Pinterest. That’s my face rn 😛
HI SORRY REPLYING TO THIS SO LATE BUT I LOVEEEE ALL OF THIS ESPECIALLY HER BEING OVERPROTECTIVE AND WARDING OFF SUITORS HEHEHEHEHE
