#for further pretentious old wizard smut request neloth

[shockwaifuafterdark]

Saw your godrick headcanons and uhh there were DEFINITELY feelings

If you're doing requests, we need a seluvass one where one of his potions doesn't work on the reader, but they pretend that it does, and we do things willingly for the shits and giggles of seeing him 10 mi deep in his own massive ego. Jk jk...unless? Sft/nsft, I just thought this one might be up your alley. Jerkwad guys in big hats, yada yada.

WAIT WHEN DID I POST MY GODRICK HEADCANONS?? I do have them but I honestly can't remember posting them to Tumblr yet? Unless you are talking about screenshots of discord convos I had with my friends about wanting to clip his stupid toenails and also setting him up with an evil jester wife?

Okay, I'd like to preface this by saying that I am a huge fan of creepy asshole characters. I am attracted to both Varré and Godrick. That being said, Seluvis is just not really my thing. Maybe a little too pompous for my tastes?? Or maybe it's the whole being turned into a basement puppet not being my kink? Probably the latter because I once wrote a short smut piece featuring Master Neloth and he is at a similar level of Supreme Prick.

However! I decided to write this anyway as a little challenge. I hope you enjoy! I probably will not write any more smut for him in the future though, sorry.

Also I apologize that it took me so long to get to this, I had major writer’s block.

Warnings: elements of hypno kink, drugging, and dollification, this is consensual but creepy and somewhat sketchy because Seluvis, Seluvis is his own warning, reader insert/tarnished is also somewhat creepy in this, explicit smut 18+ only

Also on AO3

Deep blue with gilded flecks, swirling and twinkling like a tiny captive galaxy…

The contents of the small glass vial mimicked the garb of the man who held it out to you. And much like the man, you knew definitively that there was not a drop of anything wholesome held within.

He may call you a witless dullard, but surely he had to know that you were no idiot, at least not one of that massive caliber. 

You shot him an incredulous look.

“You want me to drink this?” 

Seluvis huffed haughtily as if you had just asked if the Erdtree shown golden. 

“Yes. That is what I requested. You know I am not the type to ask such things in jest.”

You had heard him, and you were well aware he wasn’t exactly the joking sort. However, you were just as aware of what his potions did, you even had helped administer them for Marika's sake. Moreover you were very much aware of his… affinities for these puppets. He had to know that you knew the implications behind his order, and yet he ordered it still. It was brazen, wild, and he sprung it on you as casually as a request to sweep the leaves off the second floor landing.

“And.. why?” You queried. You know there would be no answer that could possibly justify such an outlandish thing, but you could not help but be intrigued.

“Were you not listening? Did I not tell you that I was working on a tincture to captivate even the likes of Lady Ranni? Hmph…Judging from your vacuous expression, you really are going to need me to spell this out for you, aren’t you? Fine. As you know, the special brew I am currently concocting is highly experimental. The theory behind it, flawless as it is, has yet to be tested, perfected. Something of this magnitude, if it were to fail, would spell disaster for us both, you understand. And while I am able to bend mere mortals with ease, I hardly have a demigod at my disposal on which to perform a trial run.”

“So you chose me.”

“Precisely. You are tarnished, lowly and wretched by nature, and yet you also possess three great runes. While you are far from a demigod, you have proven yourself to be much more than run-of-the-mill has-beens that populate these lands. There are simply no other viable candidates.”

“Just to clarify, you are asking me to forsake all the progress I have made and just… willingly become your puppet.”

"Do you think so lowly of me that I’d betray my best asset for the sake of my pride?” he scoffed, “This formulation is only temporary. A simple trial to ensure I am making steps in the correct direction. You shouldn't feel or remember a thing, I assure you."

You were quite frankly shocked that he was asking in the first place. If he really wanted you as his test subject so badly, he could have simply spiked your tea. You almost felt special, in a way. It was almost as if he cared, giving you the choice (or at least the illusion thereof). 

“Why go so far to say you could consider this an honor. It is not often that a simple provincial like yourself gets a chance to make history,” he added, seeming far too convinced of his own words. 

It would be downright foolish to drink it, but hadn’t you become somewhat of a fool for this man already? Learned to enjoy his acidic words, and found an odd sort of comfort in his unsavory tendencies? In a previous life, you had been a perfumer. You were no stranger to the use of odd concoctions to bend and manipulate the senses. As foul a man as he was, he was someone you understood, a kindred spirit in a way, finding meaning through the services he could render and the imposition of control. You knew logically that you should find this morally reprehensible, but you supposed that you were simply as rotten a soul as he. He found solace in his puppets, and you found solace in him.

Oh, and you had witnessed the way he looked at those puppets. How he cooed at them and snuck a gentle caress when no one was looking. As odd as it was, you were somewhat jealous of them. You wouldn't feel or remember a thing. You would awake as if nothing had happened, he promised you. But you knew what would happen in the interim. He would not be able to resist the urge to play with a new toy, even if only temporarily, and the knowledge that he would have done that to you, that which you secretly craved from him, even if unremembered, was enticing, arousing. Up to this point you had been relatively sure that he had little idea of your strange attraction to him, but perhaps he was more socially astute than you gave him credit for. Or perhaps he assumed you would be into him out of pure arrogance. Or perhaps he really did think you were, in fact, that much of an idiot.

Whatever his intuition, you were, despite your better judgment, about to prove him correct.

You hardly even registered yourself allowing the awful little thing to be pressed into your palm, too caught up in the brief brush of his glove against the side of your hand and how loud your pulse was. Could he hear it? Gods, you hoped not. Heaven knows he didn’t need that sort of ego boost. Quickly, before you let your rational mind stop you, you grasped the bottle, uncorked it, and tipped it back in a single swig.

The effects were immediate. Your vision tunneled, your heart thundered, the dizzy blackness bleeding rapidly to dye the fabric of your reality to the uncolor of oblivion, taking everything you were with it. It felt like falling, but softly, floatility, as if the air itself had thickened to cushion your descent. Somewhere far away you could hear Seluvis say something pertaining to your eagerness, about time, about savoring… You could not tell whether it was praise or derision, nor did you care. All that mattered is that his voice was oh so lovely to listen to and that the taste on your tongue indescribably sweet.

…

You came to under the turquoise glow of glintstones and the smell of damp earth, old stone, and sorcery. You were still groggy, sight blurred and distorted, slightly disoriented, but the place had a vague familiarity. 

“Ah, finally opened your eyes, have you?”

That was Seluvis’ voice, no mistaking that. You had been in his “tutelage” long enough to recognize the odd combination of soothing tones and portentous condescension even if you were fully asleep. Sure enough, as you willed your eyes to focus the vague dark shape in front of you sharpened into the form of the Perceptor, wearing his usual garb, minus his hat for whatever reason.

“Good. I nearly thought you defective.”

You wanted to point out that he seemed to think that even when you were at full capacity, but your tongue still felt slightly numb and heavy in your mouth and you didn’t trust any of your words to come out as anything but a slurred mess. You wiggled it around a bit, feeling your tastebuds tingle as it awoke from whatever stupor you’d been under. Some sort of flavor lingered, and you wondered if your confusion upon waking was the result of drunkenness, but no, this was sweeter and more comfortable than any spirit could have been. Moreover, why would you be with Seluvis if you had just imbibed. He would surely only dampen any festivities or merriment. The current location was hardly anything like a feasting hall either.

“You simply refused to walk on command. Perhaps I should have expected as much. You always were a willful thing. I had to carry you all the way down here like a damned sack of tubers. You best prove worth the effort.”

Down. Ah. That would make sense. You were underground, which would certainly explain the darkness and dankness. Underground. But not in a cave. No, the walls were deliberate, the angles geometric. Though faint, you caught a whiff of incense. Also, behind the preceptor was a neatly made bed. Underground. Seluvis. Bed. Stone walls. Glintstones. Ah! Yes, you had been here once before. This was the hidden basement where Seluvis stored his puppets. So now you knew the where and the how of your current location, but that only left the more elusive why?

That was answered in mere moments when he kneeled down to your level. His breath was heavy against his mask, and though you could not see them, you felt his eyes on you.

“What a pretty puppet you make…”

Puppet. Oh. That’s right. The potion. It must be finally wearing off. That means… ah. It was as he said, you retained no memory of the events. You didn’t even feel any tactile evidence: your body wholly undisturbed. You were disappointed. But the tenderness in his voice in this moment was still more than worth it, especially as he continued.

“Even a mind as brilliant as mine failed to fully capture how exquisite you’d be under my control. No mere imagining could ever compare.”

Stars above, did you want to melt into that voice. You were just about to lean forward, to nestle into his shoulder to show your appreciation when he stood up suddenly and brushed himself off, seemingly having fallen right back into his regular smug, off putting demeanor.

“Even if you took so long that I even had to begin to disrobe unassisted.”  

Wait, did he say disrobe? But… 

“Rise puppet,” he commanded you. Instinctively, you obeyed. Your mind began to race. 

“Good. Excellent even.” He breathed out, voice full of awe once again. 

Mother of Marika, you hadn’t missed a thing had you. The potion must have briefly knocked you out but he had yet to… and now he was… You felt lightheaded, partially because you had just stood up after being down on the ground for however long, but mostly from the massive hit of adrenaline the realization gave you.

You wanted to grin, but had to stop yourself. You were supposed to be his puppet were you not? Though, you supposed the fact that you almost grinned was evidence enough that you technically weren't. He circled around you, inspecting you like a scavenger ensuring the corpse he was about to feast on would not suddenly awake and bite him. No, you were far too in control of yourself to be a puppet, but if you pretended… if you let him believe you were… The idea felt thrilling, almost as forbidden as the art of puppetry itself. He grabbed your hand, manipulated your fingers and wrist, which you kept limp in his grasp. He hummed approvingly before letting go and stepping back with his hands together, standing poised and proud.

“Now dear, come, remove your master’s mask so he can… inspect you more closely.”

You felt dizzy at his request. Despite being in his proximity for some time, you still had yet to see his face. You could neither hesitate, nor could you be too eager. In this moment, you were his puppet. You were only allowed to see this side of him, to touch him, because he believed it to be so. Thus, it was with calculated precision that you stepped towards him and reached to remove that which hid him from you. Your fingers ran along the sides of his mask reverently, seeking some manner of clasp or strap to undo. Seluvis huffed.

“Just as brainless as always,” he chided. “No matter.” His gloves guided your hand to the top of his mask,  and under the fabric of his hood to a small fastening. Snapping it open, you felt the mask loosen, so lifted it away from his face. It seemed strangely intimate, seeing him for the first time. He was surprisingly handsome: a strong nose and jawline, well groomed facial hair, a harsh and furrowed brow, and eyes the color of ice under starlight. Though he bore deep creases from his age, it somehow only served to make him appear more dignified. It was quite unfair that he looked as much the part of the distinguished sorcerer he claimed to be. He grinned smugly as you did your best to keep your expression neutral, mindless. You wished you could take time to map out his features by touch, but for now you waited, outwardly patient, as he leaned in closer to scrutinize you, taking your chin between his fingers and turning your head however he pleased. It was as demeaning as it was exciting, being handled like this, like an object, but his pleased hum made it worth it. “Good,” he murmured, “very good. What a lovely specimen you are.”

You prayed to no one in particular that he didn’t notice how your face heated up. 

“Mmmm," he continued, "you make such a pretty puppet.” his grip loosened and he instead brushed your cheek fondly. You wished you could lean into his touch without blowing your cover. You wished you could kiss his finger as it swiped over your lip. “I should have known as much. You were always my puppet, were you not? Following me so obediently, even drinking this little potion for me. Perhaps I should have deceived you after all, waited until I could give you the full formulation? Have you forever at my beck and call? My own slayer of demigods, reduced to nothing but a vessel of my will… and my desires…” He buried his face into the crook of his neck, and you could swear he was sniffing you. "All the things I'd do to you…"

By Marika, this should sicken you, but as he groaned openly against you, it was not disgust that stirred in your guts. Fuck. Here, thinking he was alone with an empty doll wearing your skin, he was so openly needy and expressive. He grabbed at your sides and kissed the exposed flesh of your neck without grace. It’s literally everything you’d been hoping for. He was treating you like an object, yes, but a precious one.

His eyes were practically gleaming as he pulled away from you and out of your line of sight. You waited with bated breath for his next command. To your frustration, none came, and you just had to stand there, neck set at an awkward angle as you listened to the shuffling of fabric and mumbled words behind you. He was speaking too lowly for you to catch any more than snippets but what you did overhear…

"...make this quick…” “If only…” “...properly study you…” “...construct a replica…” “...at my beck and call…”

…was mildly horrifying. It also served to stoke your building anticipation so you certainly weren’t complaining.

When his touch returned, it was bare fingertips against the back of your neck. You had to bite your lip to stifle a gasp. He had cold hands, strangely delicate hands. His warm breath following behind was a lovely contrast. He mumbled something as he reached around to your front, undoing the first few buttons of your tunic and grabbing at your chest, gentle at first, then roughly, bony fingers digging into your flesh and kneading with little regard for your own comfort, greedily seeking sensation. Heedless of his selfishness, your body lit up beneath his groping and your nipples hardened under his palms. He made a delighted, self-satisfied sound as he felt it. Knowing that he could not see them from this angle, you rolled your eyes. 

"Your body is so receptive to my touch," he gloated, as if this was all a result of some sort of perceived bedroom prowess and not a bodily reaction that could be achieved just as easily by a particularly cold breeze. Not that you had much room to talk, considering how into this you were, especially as he began to pinch and lightly tug on the erect buds. He buried his face in your hair, and you could definitely hear the distinctive sound of him inhaling. "I can smell your pheromones. You are ripe and ready to be picked, your ravenous little flower starved for its gardener's seed…" You had to bite your tongue to stop from laughing, and even then it was a close thing. Fortunately he was too wrapped up in his strange and wildly inaccurate plant euphemisms to notice the twitches of your chest that you couldn't suppress. Radagon's ass, this man worked at a college. Perhaps that whole coupe was warranted after all. He quickly redeemed himself by pulling you back against him, grinding your ass against his crotch as he dipped the hand not holding you to him down your opened tunic. Seluvis let out a loud and wanton moan as he humped you desperately at this odd, uncomfortable angle. It was shameless, pathetic, and turning you on something fierce in spite of his lack of tact and botanical knowledge. 

“Oh my sweet darling, do you feel what you do to your master? How immeasurably aroused you make him?” Honestly, you didn’t really. There were still too many layers between you to feel any specific evidence. Oh, but you heard it; his voice was practically dripping with it. “I mustn't be too hasty though,” he added, halting his movements and unhanding you. “I must make full use of you while I have you. While you’re mine.” He gave your ass a parting squeeze before retreating once again. More mumbling and the shifting of fabric, then he called for you.

“Come to me. Your master is ready for you to properly service him.” 

Upon his command, you turned around and walked over to a small table that he stood beside. He had removed a few layers of outerwear and set them upon it, evidently unconvinced of your competency in removing them after your fumble with his mask. You were too excited to be offended by this, instead focusing on how much of a difference those layers made. While there was still no skin visible aside from his hands, head, and neck, the absence of the outer robes made his silhouette remarkably less imposing, far more human.

“Now, on your knees,” he instructed and you doubt you could have dropped any quicker if your brain was empty of all thoughts but his instructions. He tilted your head up to look at him and smiled, even going so far as to bite his lip. “Perfect,” he said “You are a rare sort, exquisite in craftsmanship, competent, powerful…”

You’d never heard him talk like that, not to you, not to anyone. You had to admit it felt good. 

“Well, no time to waste,” he said with a sigh, removing his hand. “You exist to serve me, and serve me you will. Your master yearns for your touch, be a dear and undo my trousers for me.”

You reach up to the lacing in front of you. The material of his pants were thick, but not thick enough to hide his excitement. You went slowly, keeping the tremble in your hands to an absolute minimum, focusing on the current task and not what it would lead to.

“Now, take out my member.” Of course he would call it that. You don’t know why you would have expected otherwise. You simply counted your blessings that he didn’t ask you to “polish his sorcerous staff” or something. You slid his smallclothes to the side as best you could and freed him to the open air and your eager scrutiny. It was short but actually quite nice to look at: uncut, with the flushed head just ever so slightly peeking out from his foreskin, which itself was a delicate peachy pink. It was oddly cute, as strange as it felt to apply the adjective to any part of Seluvis.

"Don't be shy, give it a kiss," he urged you and you obeyed. He was warm velvet beneath your lips. He let out one of his long, heady moans that you were already becoming addicted to. “Yes, yesss… now, lick. Top to bottom, nice and slow…” His instructions were easy enough to follow and soon enough you were making do with little more than “Just like that, oh such a lovely thing you are, keep going!” His fingers tangled in your hair as his head fell back in bliss. However, after a few minutes, his patience for the lackadaisical pace wore thin.

“Faster,” he bade you, “use your hands, too. I know they are good for it.” And so you sped up, your hand sliding wetly over his shaft as you licked diligently at everything you could reach. He was already bucking against you by the time he asked you to take him into your mouth. 

“Open wide.” You did and promptly slid in. It was quite the boon that he was not more well endowed, all things considered. You weren’t entirely sure if puppets had gag reflexes, but he fit in your mouth easily enough. “Yes,” he hissed, “Now suck.” You did, and from the sounds he was making, it was evident that he appreciated your prompt adherence to guidelines greatly.

He began to fuck your mouth, slowly at first, but definitely picking up speed, holding your face like a vice as he used you. It was getting frenzied, devolving into reckless thrusting and grunting interspersed with breathless praises, and the occasional invocation of your name. Your eyes watered as your nose was shoved again and again into his trimmed and shampooed pubic hair. Lavender and lilies, sweat and musk. You could tell he was reaching his limit and you were determined to see this out to the end. Unfortunately, something, be it divine intervention or simply his focus slipping too far, decided otherwise. A particularly forceful thrust hit your tongue in such a way that you couldn’t help but choke. Reflexively you pulled back, a coughing, spluttering mess.

Glancing up at him revealed that he wasn’t faring much better. It was as if all the color had drained from him. You’d seen less fear in the eyes of a man looking down the maw of a dragon.

“You're… awake…” he eventually managed, and… abject terror was actually a pretty good look on him. Huh.

You coughed a couple more times before clearing your throat and wiping away some of the saliva on your chin with the back of your hand and offering him a sheepish little smile. 

“It appears I am.” Your attempt at levity did nothing to ease the tension in the air. “If it helps, I have been for a while.”

He turned this information over in his head a few times before masking his still present fear with a scowl.

"And you didn’t think to inform me immediately?! Do you understand how much you could have damaged my progress by withholding this? Hmph! Some assistant you are!"

"Mmm, is that so? Odd, just a handful of minutes ago you were singing my praises.” 

"You! You heard that...” he spluttered. It was by far the least dignified sound he had made thus far, and that was saying something. 

"Yes. In fact, I heard pretty much everything. That potion of yours… well. There’s no nice way to put this. It didn’t work.."

He was blushing now. His face and ears similar in hue to nearly ripe rowa fruit in the springtime. And despite everything, his erection had not waned.

"But you… obeyed."

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"Hmm… maybe you were right earlier. Maybe I wanted to be your puppet for a bit. Or maybe I wanted to spy on you and learn your secrets.”

He began to stutter indignantly but you quickly turned his bluster into a drawn out groan by leaning back in and licking a broad stripe up his cock, fluttering your tongue with teasing intent that you guessed no mere puppet taking orders could replicate. 

"Or, maybe, I wanted to see you like this, a slave to your own desires… maybe I wanted to see you lose control for once… my master." His hips twitched forward, dick throbbing against your hand as it dribbled a long string of pre which you lapped up before pulling back. "Hmm I bet you command your puppets to punish you as much as service you, don't you."

"Why you little-!! Hnnnng!!" 

You gripped him tight enough to hurt and by the way he spasmed at the pain, eyes rolling back and mouth agape, it was obvious that he nearly came from that squeeze alone. You eased up on him, simply holding his cock in an unmoving hand, letting him come back down from the edge.

"You said it yourself, master, back when you first offered me a puppet of my own. I'm just like you. And you're just like me. We puppeteers are addicted to control, whether or not we are the ones at the reins." Keeping the hand around his cock steady and still, you began to absentmindedly tug at his sack with the other. "You're also right about another thing. I want you." More pre leaked from his cockhead. "I bet I'm the first person to tell you that."

His lack of response all but confirmed your suspicion. 

"You like that, don't you? Being wanted for once." Finally, you resumed stroking his shaft, looking up at him with the closest thing to doe eyes you could manage while grinning as maliciously as you were. He refused to meet your gaze, so you decided a little cheating on your part was warranted. "Mmmm Master Seluvis…" you moaned. He was looking now, and you highly doubted he could look away. Perfect. "Your Apprentice wants you. Wants your cum. Won't you be a Good, Kind, Master and do this one thing for me?" You stuck out your tongue and laved at the underside of his glans, keeping your mouth open in invitation. 

It worked. 

"Fine!" He barked, voice cracking. "T-take it then you voracious, whorish… whore..." Ah. You'd pushed him to the point where even synonyms escaped him. Shame he wasn't going to last long; you'd love to see how incoherent he'd get if you fucked him. He held your shoulders in a death grip as you readily took him into your mouth and moaned around him. “AH~! I'm—" he yelped before your name fell from his lips and you felt his hard flesh pulse inside your mouth, spewing salty bitterness against the back of your tongue. He was literally sobbing as you swallowed, milking him for all he'd give you and the sounds made you press your legs together to find some relief for your own ache. You kept suckling him as he cried from the overstimulation, only easing off his softening cock once his legs shook so violently that you feared they'd give out.

You smirked up at him, all blotchy and sweaty and heaving. It was doubtful things would ever be the same between you after this, so why not throw caution to the wind. You stood up and smashed your lips into a forceful kiss. He could only whimper against you. 

You had a great deal to think about.

But first, and most importantly, you needed to sit on his face. 

#nsft #I actually *am* into some hypno and tf kink stuff #so to an extent i sorta understand the appeal of this man #but Seluvis just gives me the same vibes as Human Pet Guy #preceptor Seluvis #Seluvis x Tarnished #Seluvis x reader #I’m never writing smut for him again :) #for further pretentious old wizard smut request neloth #oh good lord why is this so long #ten whole pages #x reader