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twister

Summary:

the golden deer were sort of a wreck. morale was low, nobody got along, and hilda never even bothered to show up to class half the time. with the battle of eagle and lion right around the corner, byleth couldn’t help but grow worried at the current state of her students. her solution? a game of twister.

(basically reader & claude play twister and get into some weird ass positions.)

Notes:

this was requested to me via my tumblr @lysiitheas !! feel free to stop by and request something hehe <3

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

“well i think magic is stupid, one too many uses and you’re all burned out, low stamina, no strength, poor speed-” leonie rattles on with a smug expression on her face, striking a chord in a certain white-haired mage who interrupts her mid-sentence. 

 

“yeah well swinging a stupid lance around all day can burn you out too y’know, not to mention they break, are heavy, and stupid.” lysithea counters back, byleth only sighs, used to the bickering among the golden deer students. 

 

“well, lances break sure, but you can always have a blacksmith repair them. captain jeralt says-”

 

“no one cares, leonie.” lysithea groans, banging her head on the table, biting back her yelp in pain because she’s tough and yes her forehead is throbbing but so what, she’s a strong young woman, her forehead is made of steel. 

 

byleth proceeds with the lecture, blabbering on about the importance of reason and faith for all units regardless of their preferred weapon, eyeing leonie specifically and only earning an eye-roll in response. lysithea didn’t miss the opportunity to stick her tongue out at her mockingly. 

 

“how mature of you lysithea, no wonder everyone sees you as an annoying, bratty, little child.” leonie snaps, lysithea’s eyes widen in disbelief. 

 

“i am not a child! i could ruin you with one flick of my wrist! you best tread carefully because i promise you whatever nonsense jeralt taught you will not save you from me summoning the moon to suck the life out of you–” 

 

“enough! can you try to get along? to focus?”

 

the golden deer were sort of a wreck. morale was low, nobody got along, and hilda never even bothered to show up to class half the time. with the battle of eagle and lion right around the corner, byleth couldn’t help but grow worried at the current state of her students. 

 

glancing around the room, it was clearly evident nobody cared very much on patching up the gaps in their relationships with one another. even the house leader. claude was excited for the battle, of course he was, it was his chance to really prove that the alliance was not to be messed with. though they’re perceived as the laid back house they are most definitely not the ones to underestimate. but seeing you all angry and frustrated really made his day, truthfully, it was one of the things he anticipated most when coming to class. 

 

“yeah, you two are almost as bad as claude and-” ignatz shuts up immediately when your head snaps to his direction, glaring daggers into his face, just daring him to finish his sentence. he mouths an apology, cowering away from your intimidating stare. 

 

“and? don’t be afraid to finish your sentence, ignatz, we’re here to improve teamwork, not intimidate one another.” byleth reassures, sending you a stern once-over to ensure you don’t frighten the awkward archer again. 

 

“just taking a shot in the dark here but, do they have possibly the worst sense of humor?”claude, unfortunately chimes in, placing his hand under his chin as though he was deep in thought on just who ignatz could be referring to.

 

byleth huffs out a sigh because here we go. 

 

“so bad that it seems as though they constantly have a javelin shoved so incredibly far up their ass?” claude continues, articulated, eyes not leaving yours for a minute as he drank in every contort of your face as it twisted into a scowl. the signature scowl you saved only for a certain idiotic future duke. ignatz squeaks, unsure if he should confirm that yes indeed this person does seem as though they frequently have a javelin up their ass-

 

“how about i shove a javelin up your ass, riegan.” you spat, hands tightening into fists at your sides. you hated how much claude riled you up, how just one glance of his stupid face was enough to make you want to shoot him in the foot. if he wasn’t the future leader of the alliance, perhaps you would have shot him in the foot by now, unfortunately his title hangs high and mighty above his head, despite him being so unfit to be any form of nobility. 

 

“i’d absolutely adore that.” he reassured much to your disgust, eyes twinkling in their typical mischievous manner. 

 

“is that so? perhaps you’d also enjoy being struck by agnea’s arrow and being burnt to an absolute crisp wouldn’t you–”

 

“enough!” byleth snaps, effectively shushing the golden deer up. part of you was grateful she intruded before claude could retort with a reminder that you hadn’t even learned agnea’s arrow, it was far too advanced for your current capabilities.

 

upon studying her students and their idiotic behaviour, byleth arrived to the conclusion that these frequent petty arguments stem from the fact that literally no one in the golden deer respected one another as capable comrades. they all perceived themselves to be better than their counterparts, well, except marianne, ignatz, and raphael. those three were goddess sent angels. the type of arrogance lysithea, leonie, lorenz, claude, hilda, and you suffered from destroys teamwork, and if the golden deer were to win in the battle of eagle and lion, they’d have to learn to respect one another and acknowledge each other’s strengths. 

 

“i didn’t want to do this, but you all leave me no choice.” byleth turns on her heels, disappears behind her desk for a brief moment, bending down and reaching for something.

 

she returns before the students, a rolled up mat in her possession. claude’s head tilts slightly at the sight, it looks quite familiar, childhood memories resurfacing in his mind as byleth rolls the mat out and onto the floor.

 

“wait..” realization dawns on his face.  “is that twister!” he exclaims excitedly, finally sitting properly in his seat with all four legs planted on the floor. you turn to look at claude in confusion, because what the hell is that thing and why does your enemy know what it is and you don’t?

 

“yes, it is.” byleth confirms, pulling out some bizarre looking wheel before setting it down beside the mat. 

 

“what’s twister?” lysithea asks in interest, it was quite colorful, and seemed much more interesting than listening to you and claude arguing over putting lances inside of each other’s anuses. 

 

“it’s a traditional almyran game, a competition of flexibility, stamina, and perseverance, it’s real fun if you have a worthy enough opponent.” claude explains eloquently, much to your irritation. 

 

stupid know it all.  

 

“usually almyrans use it to determine superiority amongst one another, last one standing in some goddess awful position can tolerate just anything, really.” he continues, recalling past memories in almyra with the strenuous activity.  he definitely lost his fair share of rounds when it came to twister, but he’s certain he could win against any of his classmates. he wonders for a moment just where byleth could’ve gotten it, before remembering the almyran merchants that frequent the marketplace. what was the professor intending to do with it though? surely making the students compete against each other would only worsen their relationships. 

 

right? 

 

“why the hell do you know all of that?” you question with the quirk of a brow. 

 

“because i read books, something you should try out sometime, i think you’d really benefit from it.” he turns and winks, you flip him off in response. 

 

“so why are we doing this?” lysithea whines, uninterested in whatever stamina game byleth is intending to subject her to. this is just going to give leonie material to work with, using lysithea’s tiny figure and lack of muscles against her. she glares at her, earning an eye roll in response. 

 

“almyra is known for their intense warrior culture, a test of stamina and strength is certainly what this game is intended for, but we’re going to use it a bit differently today.” 

 

“well whatever we’re doing i do not want to be partners with raphael-” 


“that’s not very nice of you lysithea-” 

 

“yeah well i’m not trying to get crushed and die.” byleth just sighs in defeat, not bothering to respond to the young mage. 

 

“we will play in pairs, specifically, your classmate whom each of you tend to bicker with the most. consider this a means of forcing you to respect one another and your strength.” byleth explains, much to the disdain of her students who’s faces all scrunch up in disgust.

 

“class is almost over though?” you remind, to which byleth only spares you an amused smirk. 

 

“not for you and claude! everyone else is dismissed. lysithea, leonie, you’re up tomorrow. marianne skip out on stable duty today okay? lysithea will fill in for your place-”

 

“i’m doing what now? i did stable duty last week!” 

 

“i-i’m s-sorry l-lysithea please don’t be u-upset with me.”

 

“forcing me to brush horses with this white haired demon child is not going to make us bond, professor–”  

 

“enough! everyone out!” you don’t waste a moment to try and escape hoping raphael’s large figure will hide you from your professor. 

 

“not you!” 

 

with a frustrated groan, you stomp back over towards the professor and the idiot that was your house leader. 

 

“the two of you are seriously putting the entire house at risk of losing next week. as a leader you should look out for your subordinates and as our main offense mage you should respect your leader and his commands. this constant nonsensical bickering ends now.” byleth grabbed the two of you by your wrists, dragging you over towards the mat. 

 

she positions claude on one end of the mat, perfectly facing you forward and giving you no choice but to look at his dumb verdant green eyes that always seemed to glimmer with a  flame of malice and disaster within them. 

 

“there’s one additional rule to this game that i’m adding, eye contact. if either of you break eye contact, you lose–” 

 

“why– ” you and claude both question in synchronization before looking at each other in disgust. 

 

“because having your enemy see you in awkward and vulnerable positions will help you humble yourselves and deflate your massive egos.” byleth explains, ignoring the offended expressions painting your faces. “you’re spinning first.” and so it spins, the little arrow whirring round and round over various colors before finally coming to a halt. 

 

“okay, put your right hand on red, but remember you cannot move your feet, only your right hand.” you follow the command, bending over and reaching towards the middle of the mat, placing your hand on the nearest red space. 

 

looking up from this angle, claude towered over you, and though you’re still confused on just how the hell this thing works, if the smirk on claude’s face is anything to go by, you know you’re going to despise every minute of this. 

 

“how’s the view?” it’s then that you realize how close you are to him, practically at eye level with his thighs, meaning, in order to maintain eye contact with the idiot, your head was tilted up towards his.. quiver if you will. 


“eh, there’s not much to see.” a lie, a blatant lie. despite how much you absolutely loathe your house leader, you had properly functioning eyes. he was stupidly attractive and it made you incredibly angry which only fueled your hatred for him. 

 

stupid, attractive, sexy idiotic, moron. 

 

“claude, left hand on blue.” byleth calls upon spinning the wheel once again. the blue spot, conveniently placed right beside your red right hand, resulted in claude now being face to face with you, merely inches away from your face.

 

your breath catches at the close proximity, and you brace yourself as claude’s lips curl up into another smirk.

 

“how about now?” he tilts his head slightly in amusement, your cheeks beginning to grow hot. swallowing down the lump in your throat, you take a deep breath, trying your hardest to not turn and look away from his gaze.

 

“professor?” you call, your eyes practically pleading for her to just spin the damn wheel already so i can get away from this attractive bastard much to claude’s amusement. 

 

byleth, seemingly distracted as well by the exchange, mumbles out an apology before the arrow goes spinning once again.

 

“right foot on blue.” you hike your right foot up, resting it in the spot beneath your right hand. your legs were now in an uncomfortable slight split position, you swallowed down the uncomfortable whine creeping up your throat. you were not going to lose so soon, claude would never live it down.

 

“claude, right hand on yellow.” well fuck. the only yellow space that was actually in a reachable distance to claude’s current position was beneath you, in between the blue spot your right foot rested on and the red spot your right hand rested on. from this position, claude was even closer to your face, his arm perpendicular to your right foot. your noses were nearly touching from this position.

 

“way to go, riegan.” you grumble, he can feel your breath against his lips and it’s then that an idea sparks into that terrifying little brain of his.

 

he’s wondered what it would be like to kiss you on multiple occasions. yes he also wondered what it would be like to hang you upside by the leg over a cliff, but on some nights when he couldn’t sleep, he’d think of how pretty you were when you had your mouth closed. 

 

voice not nagging at him, instead whining his name, your hand not swatting him upside the head, but instead tugging at the curls at the back of his neck. 

 

he knew you shared impure thoughts of your own. if your flushed face was anything to go by, not to mention all the times you’ve seen claude shirtless, healing him on the battlefield from stray arrows he was moments too slow to dodge. you were never able to maintain a straight face then, hands resting on his toned abdomen, his breathing heavy, cognac skin glistening in sweat from the overexertion of battle.

 

upon discovering just how easy it was to get you to blush, claude didn’t bother to put a shirt on while he was in the sauna, during outside sparring sessions, he’d complain it was far too hot to be training outside, shedding layers of his uniform, his eyes on you, anticipating your reaction. little did you know the bastard was almyran and the weather in garreg mach was merely child’s play for him, he was well acquainted with the heat. this was simply an excuse for him to stand shirtless before you and appreciate the pretty shade of crimson that captured the apples of your cheeks. 

 

he knows he’s hot, so he might as well weaponize it and use it to his advantage. 

 

“you know, when i first imagined us to be in this position,” he leans forward just a bit, enough so you feel his breath against your lips, “i didn’t think we’d have an audience–” you head butt him with all the might you can muster from this position. 

 

“– fuck! what the hell!” he nearly breaks position to cup his throbbing forehead, but he stops himself,  had he not have years of experience in the game, perhaps you would’ve claimed victory just then. not so shockingly, this isn’t the first time someone has headbutted him during a game of twister.

 

he furrows his brows, whining in pain. 

 

“i’ll fucking kill you, riegan.” you warn, ignoring his pathetic cries. despite your cheeks that burn furiously and the hammering in your chest, the glare you sent his way hit him so deep he felt that shit in his bones. 

 

maybe you were kind of scary. in like, a hot way. claude kind of liked it. 

 

he’s still planning on going through with his plan, despite the heartbeat in his forehead. 

 

byleth, pinching the bridge of her nose, spins the wheel again.

 

“left foot on blue.” you thank the heavens, pulling your left foot up and towards the far corner of the mat, it was still a stretch, but much more comfortable than the previous position. 

 

“claude right foot on yellow.” 

 

“left hand on blue.”

 

“right hand on red.” 

 

it goes back and forth like that for quite some time, neither of you dropping position or wavering in the slightest, considering how stubborn the two of you were, you wouldn’t be shocked if you’d be here all day.

 

“professor this isn’t working.” you huff, thankfully you weren’t in extremely close proximity to claude’s face, though you still forced to maintain eye contact due to byleth’s idiotic rules. 

 

“yeah, no shit.” claude has been getting the short end of the stick these last few rounds, his body contorting into uncomfortable positions that seemingly got worse the more the game progressed. he wasn’t breaking a sweat though, assuming positions easily without complaints. he was waiting for the moment where you two would be face to face again, he’d wrap the game up in one fell swoop. he just needed to be patient. 

 

“well too bad. whoever leaves does stable duty for the rest of the semester.” byleth threatens, face stern and cold, you knew the woman was serious. you whine in response, mumbling about your arm going numb.  

 

“aw getting tired already? no wonder teach keeps you benched.” claude teases with a pout, he was in a much more uncomfortable position than you were, back arched awkwardly in order to reach the correct spots, back hunched over in a formation that looked like it hurt. 

 

you pray silently to yourself that his spine snaps in half.

 

“oh shut up you arrogant jackass, professor benched me last week cause i was injured, i’ve kicked your ass plenty of times don’t get cocky–”

 

“ you? kicked my ass? and when in the hell was that?” 

 

“literally two weeks ago? how shit is your memory, riegan–”

 

“the sword tournament? sweetheart, i let you win. teach was telling me you were feeling pretty down about your mediocre swordsman skills. you terribly needed the boost in confidence. consider it charity.” 

 

“yeah right, you were stuck in the infirmary for four hours.” you reminded him with a scoff.

 

“no i wasn’t–”

 

“claude. yes you were.” byleth interrupts. biting back a laugh. 

 

...

 

“well that was one time, you said plenty. ” what an idiot. 

 

“this isn’t fucking working.” 

 

byleth ignores your millionth complaint, spinning the wheel.

 

she seems.. reluctant to say it out loud as realization dawns on her just where you’d probably move your left hand.

 

“uh.. um. left hand on blue.” great. the closest space was the spot right beside claude’s right hand. meaning now, your face was practically nuzzled into his neck. 

 

bingo. 

 

claude smirks, it hits you like a ton of bricks. you feel his breath against your lips again, instantly grimacing away as far as you possibly could without breaking position. 

 

“professor, i can’t breathe.” you muster out a fake cough. “did you eat flayn’s cooking before class or something? had a donkey’s asshole for dessert? it’s killing me.” 

 

his breath that smelled like chamomile and mint, and his lips looked incredibly soft but you couldn’t think of anything else to feign disgust, he was perfect after all.  claude laughs at that. 

 

“my breath smells like donkey ass?” his grin only grew, reaching his eyes this time. you had a bad feeling about where this question was going.

 

“precisely.” you confirm.

 

“well then, perhaps you’d like to know what wide open ass tastes like?” that glint in his eye, it was back. 

 

“w-what-” 

 

claude closes the gap between the two of you, kissing you with much more fervor than was probably necessary. the moment his lips touched yours you squeaked, your right hand falling out of position helplessly as you attempted to push him away.

 

he chased your lips, and he’s not quite sure why, you already lost, he won, he didn’t have to kiss you anymore. after a few moments, you started to kiss back, giving into your instincts. if claude was only kissing you for the sole purpose of this game, he would’ve pulled away by now. and honestly? screw it at this point, you wanted him, and he wanted you. 

 

claude eventually lifts his hands away from their position on the mat, instead, cupping your jaw and pulling you closer. 

 

kissing you was one of those things where once you start, it’s really fucking hard to stop. 

 

claude is a really good kisser, his lips are warm, and he knows what to do with them because it only takes him two seconds of kissing you for your knees to give out and collapse. you really lost the game now, not a single limb still connected to the proper space on the mat. 

 

professor byleth, absolutely baffled by the sight before her, clears her throat loudly. neither of you pull away. she has to pry you apart, staring in disbelief at the two of you as you pant with swollen lips. 

 

staring back at the boy before you, realization dawns on you. this hatred you had for claude von riegan? yeah it was just repressed sexual tension really. if his hooded eyes and lopsided grin was anything to go by, it was clear claude arrived to the same conclusion. 

 

he wanted to kiss you again, the gears in his brain were already trying to scramble together another excuse to press his lips against yours once more.

 

head flickering up towards his professor, claude has to bite back the laugh crawling up his throat. the ever so mysterious mercenary byleth eisner who never showed much emotion, especially not fear, looked absolutely mortified. 

 

“i.. i-i don’t even have words.” is all byleth manages to stutter out, eyes flickering back and forth between her two students. did that really just happen? was it… progress? 

 

“i do,” claude chimes in, swollen lips curling upwards into his signature smirk, cheeks dusted pink. “ i won . have fun picking up horse shit.” it takes a moment for you to collect your thoughts again, coming down from the high of the kiss, but once you do, you don’t hesitate to shove a fist mercilessly into his gut, causing him to double over in pain.

 

byleth blinks at the two of you, once and then twice, before shaking her head profusely and exiting the classroom. closing the door behind her, she mutters something along the lines of i’m really not getting paid enough for this. and you couldn’t agree more. 

 

perhaps it was time for you to withdraw from the officer’s academy, claude von riegan was an absolute menace to society. so what if this was the most prestigious school in all of fodlan? it wasn’t worth tolerating claude von riegan shoving his tongue down your throat and kissing the living daylights out of you just to pretend like he didn’t like it and that it was merely a competition strategy. he could’ve gotten you to falter in a million different ways, but he chose to kiss you. it was most definitely self-indulgent.

 

he was going to pay. you kick him again in the abdomen. 

 

“h-hitting me won’t change the fact that you got horse shit to pick up, angel .” how he managed to stutter and still sound smug was beyond you. how he managed to still look attractive even when in a pathetic fetal position was also beyond you. 

 

you consider kicking one last time, just for good measure, but you control yourself. you can’t kill him unfortunately, that was forbidden, heresy, or whatever. 

 

“too weak to win the game fair and square so you had to resort to your little conniving tricks huh? humiliated me in front of our professor all for a childish game of twister? fuck you, riegan.” you spit, pride swelling in your chest at the sight of his misery. yes, you did that, you made the future leader of the alliance blush like a little school girl. you knocked the absolute wind out of him. and sure you had to pick up horse shit, but the sight of claude laying out on the floor before you made it worth it. watching him writhe in pain, it’d be seared in your memory forever. something you’ll think back to and laugh maniacally to yourself. 

 

that is, until he opened his mouth again, impure thoughts flooding your thoughts with incredible speed, successfully making you want to discard your brain from your skull and into a waste bin. 

 

“ goddess, w-well i usually prefer to do the fucking, are y-you free tomorrow?” he groans, clutching his abdomen in agony. 

 

part of you wanted to say yes, i’m free after the 2nd chime but you knew better than to make a dick appointment with the infamous claude von riegan. 

 

claude thinks he’s the only one that can make people flustered? make their knees weak and all that other gross shit? well think again, jackass. wearing a smirk of your own on your face, you lean forward, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt before kissing him roughly. 

 

it was his turn to be surprised, his turn for his legs to buckle, for him to attempt to grab you and deepen the kiss further. 

 

you pull away, much to his dismay. 

 

“any time after the 2nd chime, golden boy.” his pupils dilated at that, knowing claude, he’d probably actually show up. part of you hoped he did. pride washed over you again. releasing him by the collar, you shove him back down onto the ground. you managed to catch claude von riegan off-guard, you bested him, beat him at his own game, and left him flushed red blabbering on the floor like a flustered idiot. 

 

stepping over his body on the mat and taking your leave out of the classroom, you ignored his calls of your name. only bothering to look back at him when he shouted “tomorrow! 2nd chime! i’ll be waiting.” 

 

idiot. you flip him off as a final parting gesture. 

 

“g-good work today.” byleth coughs out awkwardly once you exit the classroom, you can only glare at her in response. this was all her fault, babbling on about teamwork and whatnot. you bit your tongue back before you say something uncalled for like 

 

fuck you i’m leaving this shitshow of an academy. 



Notes:

idk what this was but it was fun to write gnite yall its 3am