General Mahamatra - Tumblr Posts

18+||MDNI

I want Cyno to tell me to stop whining while he fucks me :(

Princess and Her Matra | Cyno X (F) Reader (Part III) (Royal AU)

Summary: Forced to accompany Scaramouche to the Royal Garden, many secrets began to seep like venom. You and your General were not ready to hear them.

Relationship: (Bodyguard) Cyno X (Desert Princess) Female Reader

Characters: General Mahamatra Cyno • Prince of Avidya Scaramouche.

Warnings: Suggestive. Mentions of Blood.

Word Count: 2250

Parts: One / Two / Three / Four / Five

➵ ➵ ➵

"Cyno," you sighed, letting your eyelids fall in pleasure.

"You.. you feel so.. good," he rasped, shaky breaths. "Agh, Your High–."

"Say only my," you gasped, "name."

"(Name), (Name)," he repeated between breaths, "I can no longer– Archons– hold myself together–!"

"Please, Cyno, please! Ohhh~." Your moans sent him trembling more. Your hands suddenly crept up the skin of his nape, combing his hair. Your legs wrapped around him. "Do it inside!" That was the final push before he–.

The General Mahamatra shook awake, eyes widened and face deeply flushed. He blinked a couple of times, realizing he had fallen asleep while standing by your chamber. He prayed to the Gods above no one caught him in such a vulnerable state.

He spotted the sun beyond the hall window, setting closer to the horizon. Right. It was the late afternoon. Apparently, you were scheduled to have a private drink with the Prince following the discussion, and you claimed wanting to change your attire.

Except Cyno knew you well enough to figure you wanted a breather after discussing your marital fate.

He was right. Not a single change in dress or accessory when you exited. For a moment, he had to shut his eyes. The dream of his gave him a far more embarrassing feeling than he hoped. When he opened them, he found you scanning around, which piqued his curiosity.

You hummed. "Are Matra Dehya and Candace no longer accompanying me?"

"They were temporarily requested for their presence."

"What a shame."

The General Mahamatra raised a brow. "Is my presence not enough, Your Highness?"

"Well, you could use some humor, maybe sarcasm."

"I am pained you do not find my jokes pun-ny."

"And a sigh leaves my lips." You pinched the bridge of your nose. "I wonder if the Prince himself has better ones."

This might have struck a genuine nerve in the General, who stiffened up, because you instantly paid mind to how he went silent. You turned your head to find a frown plastered on his lips.

Oh. That was your mistake.

You did not mean to make him feel insecure of his own humor. Sometimes, you forgot he took much pride in his jokes, even if they rarely garner a laugh from a crowd.

You paused halfway down the corridor, knowing the Mahamatra had no choice but to follow suit. You glanced toward one way and the opposite. Cyno furrowed his brows, looking concerned, because it seemed like you detected a threat that he shockingly did not.

"Stay close to me, Your Highness." His eyes narrowed as he took on a defensive stance. He then, however, felt the touch of a pair of hands on his chest. Cyno blinked away, slowly meeting your eyes with a perplexed expression.

"No, no. There is nothing wrong, my General." One of your hands went to lower his polearm. "I was only checking to make sure there are no witnesses."

"What are you talking about–?"

The General Mahamatra's breath hitched when your hands circled up his neck and to his head. The sudden touch sent shivers down his spine, and he gulped. His heart pounded against his chest

"Your," he croaked, "Highness."

The sensation felt too close to his dream. To have imagined you bare, the feeling of your breath on his skin, the sound of your breathy moans. He attempted to look away from you. How could he meet your gaze when he, a General, imagined the most obscene things of you, his Princess.

You pulled him down and kissed him on the lips, fingers combing through his hair that brought out a shaky breath. How you adored getting this vulnerable reaction.

He wanted to return the touch.

His hands slowly lifted up, closer and closer to your face.

However, much to his dismay, you pulled yourself away before anyone saw anything. You left him once again flustered, and this time, in a frustrated way. He scowled as his face bore a heavy blush, panting softly. You were playing too many games with him.

Then, down one end of the corridor heard footsteps. You and the General composed yourselves in no time.

"If it isn't my Princess."

This time, you were the one scowling. Rounding the corner was Scaramouche, sneering. "It's time for a private moment of our own, beloved."

"You did not bring along a bodyguard? I expected better caution of you."

"Why ever would I need to? Private moments require isolation. But I suppose you did not reach the same conclusion."

The General frowned.

You narrowed your eyes. "My Father is always worried of me."

"My, you like jumping to conclusions often. To think of me as a–."

"You have forgotten: threats come in other kinds of people, my beloved." Your voice held a mocking tone. "Assassins and thieves are common, you see. So I shall require my guard with me at all times." You stepped in front of the General.

"So you say. How strange, I don't recall having to deal with such pests in Avidya. Perhaps this is an issue among the Setekh people–."

"I believe we shall call off this 'private moment' of ours for the time being, Prince Scaramouche," you snapped. "Sounds like we cannot handle being next to one another."

The young Prince's eye twitched. "Now, now, Princess. Are you not being sensitive right now?"

"Sensitive as I may be, that is your issue. I shall not tolerate a husband who thinks it right to make demeaning assumptions about my people."

He clenched his teeth and gave into an annoyed sigh.

You could only laugh inwardly at how apparent his irritation was.

"My sincere apologies, beloved. It was rather shallow of me. Still, I would like for us to spend time in private. After all, what is a thriving relation without getting to know one another?" Scaramouche extended his hand.

The Mahamatra eyed him. That did not go unnoticed by the Prince. "Perhaps your guard," he snarled, "may accompany you as well."

You hummed, accepting his hand. "I am content to know you see my point of view. Wherever shall we go, beloved?"

"Why not show me this 'Royal Garden' your Father speaks so much of during lunch." He worded it not as a request but as a command. You eyed him with a frown. Immediately replaced with a strained smile, you spoke, "Yes, of course."

You reached the greenhouse, basking in the sunlight's warmth once again. Your eyes briefly lit up at the butterflies passing along, but the presence of an unwanted stranger kept your guard up.

That was a significant reason why you hesitated bringing him here. Now you could not be in the greenhouse without worrying that he might taint the flora.

"Well isn't this beautiful. For a region so assumed to lack life, it seems to flourish." The veil of his hat glistened in the evening light.

"Even the Setekh has its own secretive finds, you know."

Scaramouche eyed a goldpoppy, too closely for your liking. "Oh, I know secrets all right."

You raised a brow in suspicion. "What do you mean by that?"

"Are you always so quick in your judgement? I feel rather hurt to see you so cautious of me, Princess."

"Enough with your act, Prince. I am well aware you despise showing your kindness just as much as I show my hospitality."

No words.

The greenhouse went silent for a moment until you caught the edge of a scowl appearing on his face. "You are truly annoying, Princess. I may detest your kind, but I have done all I can to mend the relations of our kingdoms. I cannot believe this is what I get in return from my own betrothed."

"Do not mistake me for a fool. Something as simple as a 'wife' is not your true goal."

Suddenly, the goldpoppy his palm was caressing withered, shriveling back into its dried, wrinkled form. Your eyes shot wide, and a string snapped in you. "What are you doing–!?" The General was quick to stop from storming too close. "Stop that! My mother planted this garden!" The nearby poppies began to shrivel up the same.

You glared at the General, but his arm remained wrapped around your waist. "You need to keep your distance, Your Highness!" he urged.

You turned your anger back to the Prince. "What have you done to them! Answer me!"

The Prince plucked a dead poppy, spinning it in his fingers. "Calm yourself, beloved. You're overreacting." His indigo eyes flickered to the General. "And you, why don't you release her? It's not like I'm going to harm her."

Cyno only narrowed his eyes, clenching his jaw. His silence said enough.

Scaramouche sighed, raising a hand. "I didn't want to resort to this, Princess." A single flick of the wrist sent the Mahamatra flying back, letting you collapse to the ground. Panicked, you faced your General, who was held up by a set of strings.

He loudly winced. "Argh!" The thin strings pulled back tightly on his skin, beginning to leave small cuts. "Your Highness!" he yelled with seething in his voice. "Get away from him!"

"Cyno!" Your eyes in horror. You turned to face the Prince, picking yourself up. "Release him!"

"Don't be a fool, Your Highness! Forget me–!" Your General groaned in a stinging pain as strings tightened further.

"Enough!" you pleaded, which had gone ignored.

Scaramouche snarled, "Shut your mouth, guard. This is a matter between your Princess and I." He drew a finger up your chin. You tried to slap him off, but another of his strings wrapped around your shoulders, holding you back.

"You're right," he sneered in a mocking whisper. "Why would I go through so much work just to have a useless wife and boring old romance, when I could have so much more?"

He snatched your hand, prompting more struggles from the General. The dead poppy in Scaramouche's hand lifted up to meet your finger. You watched the crazed look infect his smile as the poppy glowed back into its colorful youth.

"So it is true." His hand went up to hold your chin, examining your face while you scowled. "The Setekhan Princess shares the Goddess of Flowers' ability to restore life."

Your brows furrowed. "What?"

He scoffed. "How pathetic. You actually have no idea? You hold the power to bring your useless plants back to life, and you have no idea that you descend from a family blessed by the Goddess of Flowers?

"What does that have to do with this marriage?! Is the Avidya dying? Is it resurrection you seek?" You had lost all your patience.

He laughed. "My dearest beloved. You being blessed by the Goddess of Flowers means to me you have the power to call a Jinni, the key to entering the Eternal Oasis. To be granted with the very power which can rival a God."

Beads of sweat trickled down your face. "You would find me nothing more than useless. I know nothing of calling a 'Jinni' more than I know my family being blessed by Nabu Malikata."

Scaramouche narrowed his eyes. "Then, it would mean 'nothing' to keep your precious guard alive."

Your eyes widened as he curled his fingers together, making more cuts on the General's skin. He yelled, wincing and struggling to move. He was panting and groaning loudly.

"No! Let him go!"

No response from the Prince as he kept his eyes on strangling the Mahamatra.

"Please!"

Nothing.

"I will summon the Jinni! Just let him go!"

Finally, Scaramouche wafted his hand, releasing the strings. Cyno dropped onto the ground, panting. "Good girl," he mocked. "That better be the case, my beloved."

The General, fueled with anger, picked up his partisan.

"Watch yourself, dog, or we're going to have more trouble. I kept my word: your Princess is unharmed." The Prince strolled away, leaving the greenhouse. "In two days' time during the evening all the same. Stand me up and your guard's won't be the only one caught up in this mess."

The fury dissipated the moment Cyno laid his eyes on you, who was also released from the strings. He ran to your side, arms wrapped around your form.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Heavy breaths left his lungs. "I should've taken you away the moment things became tense." His voice sounded strained, full of guilt. "I didn't realize– Archons." Cyno's embraced tightened, cursing himself again and again.

Tears pooled in your eyes. You sat silently, burying your face in his shoulder. The scent of blood shot your eyes open, and you pulled back. "Cyno– your wounds!"

"It's nothing, Your Highness. I wouldn't have been the General if I couldn't handle the pain."

A pained look took your eyes. "You said the same thing about being quick on your feet, and look at you. Do not get too cocky, Cyno." Your hand caressed his cheek. Then, a white light slowly glowed along his cuts.

"You are lucky this 'blessing' of mine can heal. I truly had no idea I was blessed by Nabu Malikata. I thought I was simply born with it."

Cyno leaned closer to your hand, eyes closed. "You should be much more careful, Your Highness. This 'Jinni' and 'Eternal Oasis' he spoke of could be a catalyst for something far worse."

You sighed. Thoughts ran through your mind for a way out of this. A hum emitted. "I may have read something about it in the palace library. But they sounded more like legends I never believed it." You recalled his ulterior motives. A cold shiver ran down your spine, as you realized: "Scaramouche aims to become a God."