Would you mind doing a dabble on Folklore!Piglin!Techno and his version of the Blood God and Voices? Like how he was picked, that’s if that’s part of his verse
Folklore!Piglin!Techno
Warnings: 18+, smut mentioned.
In the Folklore verse, Techno was chosen to be The Blood God, when the old one died. And when I say chosen I mean like Harry Potter chosen one. He had no relation to the last blood god, he just suddenly heard the voices.
At first he felt like he was going crazy, the voices wouldn’t be quiet. They had their opinions which they couldn’t wait to share with him. Techno had to learn to live with it, he had to learn to be patient and relax.
Due to being the new Blood God, the faes, fairfolk, elves and dwarves respected him as their new king. He lived like one, in an ancient building graced with the finest food and drink that could be found.
In keeping with tradition, after two hundred years of being king The Blood God is hounded by the voices in his head to find his ‘one’ or mate. A more common nickname for mates is ghivashel which means ‘treasure of treasures’ but Techno loves call you fiðrildi, which means butterfly. He will explain why later.
Just as Piglin speak Dwavish, their mating customs are quite similar to Dwarves too, however their primal instincts and urges are a whole lot stronger than theirs. Piglin are half pig so their animal side takes over and heightens everything.
Techno knew you were his mate when the voices instantly went quiet, it gave him a type of peace he never thought possible. The voices fell in love with you, every single one of them. They talked about you non stop, every little thing you did, whether is was cute or sweet and there were even the more crude ones.
The only time they were quiet for Techno now was when he was fucking you. The mating ritual was so important and powerful, Techno needed all his focus and attention on you. The voice understood that, something that Techno greatly appreciated.
Does Folklore!Techno have any favorite fantasies of you?
Mating with you. Breeding you. 1000000%. This man wants nothing more than to lay you down in your soft cozy nest and absolutely destroy you. It’s like an itch that he can’t scratch, since the very first moment he introduced you to it.
At the back was what he called the nest, a pile of the softest most luxurious blankets, furs from unknown animals, and colourful pillows.
“What’s a nest?” You mumble staring at the inviting pile of comforts.
“It’s where Piglin sleep and….mate.” You almost choked on air at the latter, the word stood out to you pulling another memory of your Grandmother’s teachings to your mind. Mating is the most dangerous, once done you can never leave.
“But I’m not a Piglin so how is it mine?” You ask your mind fuzzy from the memory, the sound of her voice. She’s warning you and you’re not listening.
“Because you are mine.” A snarl had his lip curling, it sets your core on fire. Your lower abdomen cramping with desire, the rumbly deep hum in his throat says he knows.
And he did know, he know exactly how much you wanted him to mate you the second he said that. He can’t wait until he finally gets his chance.
You weren’t stupid, you knew what those drums meant. The tempo and beat that sounded from deep within the forest were something to be feared.
Drum drum fear it they sing,
Tonights the night they call upon thee.
Don’t eat the berries or meat or thyme,
Don’t drink the finest of fine wine.
Run run that’s what they sing,
If you get far enough out of their grasp,
They go back from wence they came.
“What does it mean nana?” You ask your little hands tugging at the bed sheets, fear sending tingles around your body being met in your stomach with a sickening feeling.
“It means beware of the woods, don’t go looking for trouble or the Piglin will come and gobble you up!” Your grandmother screams jabbing her boney fingers at your sides, tickling you, a smile adoring her wrinkled face as she watches you giggle.
“Sleep well my child.” A kiss to your forehead she lays before leaving closing your wooden door behind her.
Sleep? You couldn’t possibly after hearing what she said. As you lay awake throughout the night one thing stuck with you until you passed out from exhaustion your small lips emitting the words that would one day haunt you, “The Piglin.”
-
“So how’s marriage.” You nudged your friend Ailey with your elbow, she was newly married to the village mayor an older man who she had caught the eye of.
“It’s exactly what I thought it would be.” She said with a soft smile, her dimples showing. “Nothing like what we were taught it to be.” She then says, a face full of thought with it.
“I don’t think my marriage will be quite the same. Cayden is a fine man but I see something behind his eyes that I don’t like.” You sigh before heaving your bucket onto the edge of the well, tying the rope around the handle and lowering it down.
“For that I am sorry.” Ailey looks down twiddling her fingers, you grab a hand of hers gently with a smile.
“Don’t fret, things will turn out alright.” You smile and although it was fake it settled your friends worries. You parted ways, her going back to her husband and you to your house. Memories of your Grandmother still graced your house, it hurt your heart to see them.
“Morning Gerald.” You chirped placing the bucket on the floor. The older man smiled at you greeting you. He was in love with your grandmother in their older years, she died before they married. But he loves and cares for you like a grandfather would.
“How are you flower?” He asks with a smile, his old hands kneading some bread dough.
“I’m okay.” You said it everyday but never meant it. It wasn’t that your life was bad, and there was others out there who had it worse but unfortunately you just weren’t happy.
“Have you met with Cayden today?” He asks with a shake of his head. Gerald didn’t agree with you getting married to him but you knew you couldn’t live off Gerald forever and he knew that once he was gone you would need someone to take care of you.
“No.” You sigh, your thoughts being interrupted with the sound of drums. The pattern had a shiver racking through you. “Did you hear that?” You ask staring straight at the window, the forest coming into view.
“Hear what flower?” His fingers stop, his eyes following yours with a gulp. You didn’t answer, didn’t want to sound crazy. So you went to bed that night trying your hardest to ignore the sound of drums that kept getting louder and louder.
-
A warm wind woke you up, spreading over your body in tingles. The kind you get when someone plays with your hair. The crisp smell of nature penetrated your senses, green was all you saw when your eyes fluttered open. A bed of what felt like soft leaves and moss was what you found underneath.
Confusion fresh in your mind and you’re hit with more when you look around yourself.
Tortoises with moss, flowers and mushrooms growing on their shells. Magpies decorated with gold and the richest shade of midnight. Each butterfly had a different colour and pattern, no single one the same. The trees and plants thrived while wind chimes made the most beautiful music.
“Where am I?” Asking no one in particular and yet a young boy appeared beside you with a small smile.
“We call it Sanctuary my lady, home of the fairies.” The boy said with a smile, his pointy ears twitching as he went skipping off dancing along to the fairy music. It sounded like butterfly wings, soft chimes, and magic.
A clanging had you turning to see a group of people with weapons scattered around them. You watched them sharpen their gold swords, axes and knifes. Curiosity looming in your eyes.
“Beautiful isn’t it?” His deep, monotone, gruff voice startled you. But so did he. His long wavy light pink hair, a crown upon his head. Shirtless yet embellished with gold chains, necklaces, bracelets and rings. The small braids in his hair looked to be plaited with gold string. He seemed to shimmer with a golden tint.
He was celestial.
His infernal eyes were the only thing that was not of heaven, red and glowing they were. Rubies that pierced your very soul. His sharp and chiseled features were something to be admired. You noticed that no one else looked as he did.
“Who are you?” Your face adorned a guarded frown.
He ignored your question, instead taking the time to look you over. “Welcome to my home.” He smiled, his actions mirroring yours when you moved your head almost trying to get away from his eye contact. “You must be tired, hungry and in need of a bath.” He chuckles heartily both hands on his waist. His hands were very large, but so was the rest of him.
When no reply came from you he guided you to a small cave, not too far from where you had woke. It glowed with blue and white, the water sparkled and shimmered with golden specs. It called to you.
“I’ll leave you to it my lady.” The man bowed his head and left before you could say anything. Once he was out of sight, you let yourself kneel before the pool of other-worldly water.
“I guess a bath wouldn’t hurt.” A comment you made only after smelling your armpit.
You discarded your dirty clothes and cautiously descended the small steps into the shimmering pool. The water was warm and soothing, it smelt of flowers. You let your head tip back and noticed a hole in the top of the cave, the luminescent moon was shining in the midnight sky.
There was a dress laid out that hadn’t been there before. Had someone seen you in there? Wouldn’t be the weirdest thing that’s happened today you’d have to admit. Whilst dressing yourself in the light blue material you noticed your dirty clothes had gone too.
You intended to ask, confront the man that lead you here but he was quick to distract you.
“Meat?” He showed you a beautifully carved bowl filled with aesthetic looking food. Big leaves placed at the bottom of the wooden bowl, medium rare beef it seemed layered over the green, and finally what looked like a shaped mound of rice placed on top, garnished with thyme.
It made your mouth water, your stomach rumble. When you didn’t accept the food he put the bowl down in front of you. Tempting you.
“Berries?” He asked opening his palm to show you a hand full of plump blackberries, the juices of them stained his hand. You stared at him with caution. It wasn’t until his last offer that the song, the warning swirled in your ears.
“Wine?” He held a golden chalice filled to the brim with a reddy, purple liquid. He ignored it spilling over the edges and coating his fingers, his rubies staring at you and you only. They seemed pleading with you for something you didn’t quite understand.
I love the talks with you, Lil and V this is fun to watch also you *are* a cheeky minx Squishy, though I have a question for Folklore, what if someone doesn’t drink wine?
I don’t know what you mean😏 and it’s a rather simple answer. He had chosen you. Therefore the pull towards him would grow stronger and stronger to the point where you feel almost drunk. And then it would be easy to make you drink the wine or eat the food.
