#introducing my warrior of light

[friendlyeorzean]

so I realised I never really introduced my Warrior of Light..

this is Aren, a 23yo male Veena viera. he left his homeland because of a dream he had of the mother crystal and of eorzea. he doesn't recall his original name, and due to all that's gone on since he first arrived he remembers next to nothing of his life before eorzea.

he's madly in love with g'raha, loves teasing alisaie (who he considers his baby sister), and is just such a sweetheart. he's kind, caring and always willing to give people the chance to do and be better. urianger and thancred are like dads to him, especially thancred, and he calls them dad (urianger) and tiny dad (thancred).

after all he's been through, he's still such a sweet boy and he and raha deserve all the happiness in the world ;3;

[tired-fandom-ndn]

Having the weirdly specific issue that it's really fucking hard to come up with what sort of foods the elemental nations would have in ATLA when there's so much weird blending of cultures.

[theternalflare]

Starting the new year with some doodles!

[star-sim]

"is your girlfriend single?" ☆ enha hyungs

☆ youtuber! non-idol! bf! enhypen hyung line x fem! reader ☆ summary: when your youtuber boyfriend finally shows you for the first time to his audience. ☆ genre: fluff, jealous and whipped boys... kinda dumb lol ☆ warning(s)? no! just fluff!! and attempts at humor :( ☆ reblogs and comments are appreciated :D also not proofread lol

maknae ver.

heeseung ☆

i like to think that hee would be a gaming youtuber

posts maybe like once or twice a week, has about 3 million subs

he sometimes likes to stream, just to get to know his fanbase better and to just hang out

normally he texts you to let you know abt it, but today he totally forgot

you came home from work and you saw his office door closed + heard the sound of his loud ass keyboard clicking.... my guy beats that shit UP atp

that was normal tbh

you were probably like "my little keyboard warrior ❤️" and went to go wash up in your shared bathroom and bedroom

you were going to just pop into his office, say hi and maybe give him a kiss

meanwhile... heeseung is taking a break from gaming, just talking to the chat

he definitely didn't notice you coming home... probably bc of that bigass head set that's creating a fucking valley in his skull... (btw have u seen those videos where gamers take off their headphones and they have a dent on their head 😭)

anyways you open the door, ready to say hi, but heeseung is visibly surprised, looking like a deer in headlights

you look at him, then at the back of his monitor, then back at him, then at his monitor

"should i come back another time...?"

hee's already taking off his headphones, leaning back into his gaming chair--

"no no no!" he grins, glancing at the chat, which is now blowing up

"who is that?"

"yooooo"

"HEESEUNG IS THAT YOUR GIRLFRIEND?"

"gf reveal?"

"she sounds so pretty"

heeseung pats his lap, "cmere, baby, i wanna introduce you to the stream"

of course you comply <3

you take a seat on his lap, his arms slithering around your waist

it takes you a moment to take in what's on his screen: obv there's your reflections, then the chat boxes and announcement pop-ups

the way that the blue-purple light of his screen reflects onto your skin, casting a glassy gleam over your eyes-- and the way that your pretty eyes look at the monitor so curiously, lips parted ever-so-slightly-- made you look SO beautiful

heeseung himself has to angle his head in a way so that he could see your face properly.... and a soft grin unknowingly began to spread over his lips

he presses a soft kiss to the crook behind your ear, before looking back up at the stream

"hey guys," there's a clear smile in his voice, "this is my girlfriend, [name]."

you take that as your queue to introduce yourself

honestly, you're a little shy and softer-spoken now, bc you're not in front of a camera nearly as often as your boyfriend is, "hi.. i'm [name], and... uhm..." you give the webcam a clumsy, awkward (but very cute) smile, "i'm hee's girlfriend"

the chat blows up immediately

"SHE'S SO CUTE"

"i've never seen heeseung look so soft"

"[name] you're so pretty :)"

"this might actually be one of the most beautiful women i've ever seen im not joking guys"

"chat is she real... bc why is she actually GLOWING oh my lord🧎🧎🧎"

those comments make you a lil shy and bashful, and you feel your cheeks kinda warm

you just giggle reading them, unable to contain your smile

heeseung, on the other hand, is feeling prideful

"that's right, guys," he squeezes your waist, puffing his chest out, "my girlfriend is so beautiful" "i know i'm so lucky to have such a wonderful woman as my girlfriend"

he's overjoyed by all the compliments you're getting... it makes him so happy that he can show you off and that everyone gets to see that YOURE his gf

in fact, he's reading a lot of them aloud, and following it up with "i agree with you"

like he'll read "'[name] is absolutely stunning, like wow..." and heeseung nods and is like "i agree with you, xXdragontittysucker23Xx 🤓☝️"

but then a comment stops him in his tracks...

"heeseung is your girlfriend single by any chance?"

his face drops immediately

"hey... who in the chat asked if [name] is single?!"

he's actually offended, putting a dramatic hand on his chest and scoffing

"how rude!" heeseung pouts against your shoulder when even more of his viewers begin saying similar things

"[name] are you free this weekend"

"hi [name] (i'm 6'2 and drive a lamborghini and save orphans every weekend)"

"heeseung get out i'm trying to have a moment with your girlfriend"

you're actually such a cutie, becuase you're just giggling as more and more comments come trying to rizz you up

"what do you have to say for yourself?" heeseung asks you half-sulkily and half-defensive, pushing his face into your neck and pouting

your eyes glimmer with a little mischief, wanting to tease your boyfriend a little bit

"i mean... " you pretend to think

and then someone named jungkooksleftpinkytoe562 says in chat "please [name] i'll rock your world so hard just one chance"

you laugh

"jungkooksleftpinkytoe562, i'm free tomorrow at 5, you should take me out on a date" and you wink playfully and laugh again

chat blows up like

"WOAHHHH"

"AYOOO????"

but if there's anyone that's scandalized, it's heeseung lee himself

"HEY! HEY! WHAT?!!?!" he's squinting and scrolling so fast in the chat to find jungkooksleftpinkytoe562 that you can hear the scroll-wheel oh my god

"you guys better back off," heeseung says, pulling you even closer. he presses a kiss against your shoulder, then gently clutching your face to kiss your chin, "she's mine!"

heeseung's eyes narrow, "especially you, jungkooksleftpinkytoe562..." your bf gives you a quick peck on the lips, "i'll kick your ass if i see you flirting w my girlfriend again >:("

im gonna be fr... none of his viewers care

in fact they keep flirting with you

and the fact that you keep playfully flirting back adds fuel to heeseung's flames

but he'd never blame you <3

he's pouty after the stream lol (but he knows it's all in good fun) so kiss his cute lil pouty lips

i think this definitely goes viral on twitter

like #[name] or #heesgf trends for a good 48 hours

jay ☆

my guy is a cooking channel

i think jay would try to be more private abt his personal life to his viewers, just given the nature of his content

though, it's no secret that jay has a s/o to his viewers, and i think they'd know your name

but yk how at the end of cooking videos, after the chef cooks, they try the food...

i think in a few of his videos, there's clips of you and him trying his food, but while jay is usually in-frame, you're either behind the camera or just barely in the frame so that most people have really only heard your voice and seen your hands

the comments are usually tame, like

"[name]'s voice is so pretty!"

"i want someone to look at me the way jay looks at [name]"

"my parents!"

but one day

for one of his subscriber milestone specials

let's say 2million subscriber special

jay does a cooking challenge

it's "cooking a meal but BLINDFOLDED"

he starts the video explaining the parameters of the challenge and what he's doing, etc

but then he reveals that you're behind the camera to supervise him

obv bc he's in a kitchen with ovens and knives and he's blindfolded...

throughout the video, you kind of just guide your bf

"omg jay move your hand or you'll cut your fingers off!"

"turn on the stove-- no the other way!!"

at some point, jay is cutting up onions

and normally he's a pro at it, and you never question his abilities

but because he can't see and he's using the knife so quickly, you're freaked out like "babe!!!!!! that doesn't seem safe!!! 😰😰😰"

so then behind the camera, you're heard fussing about it and it's cute lol

then you take it upon yourself to help him

you go behind him, slithering your arms around him so that your hands were places on his

you guide his hands to cut the onions slowly

"babe, i got this," jay says, but tbh he's not complaining because he gets to be close to you :D

"nonono i don't want you to die!!" you say, and it seems like you're more concentrated on cutting the onions than him

this is the first time that your face is in-frame for one of his videos lol

when you're done, jay tries to kiss your head, but he can't find you so you raise yourself on your tippy toes for him

its a quick peck but you giggle and place a kiss behind his ear

when he's done cooking his little dish, it's time to garnish and decorate it with sauce

jay's plan is to use the sauce to write "happy 2 million subscribers" on the dish

but because he's blindfolded, the writing is so fucked up

it's completely unintelligable and just a glob of sauce 😭

and then he tries to draw a dick on it but it's also super fucked 😭😭😭😭

when you see this, you burst out laughing so hard

and this makes jay laugh too

anyways the video goes up, it's very cute and well-received

now.... the youtube comments are still tame

"[name]'s laugh is so cute!"

"i screamed when she popped into frame... she's gorg"

"the way that [name] looks at jay when he's blindfolded is everything"

"[name] looks so beautiful"

but uh

it gets crazy on twitter

as it always does

"jesus fucking christ if a woman like that wrapped her arms around me and kissed me i would fall to my knees and die happily"

"jay CANNOT handle allat.... but i can!!!! me next!!"

"god... when is it my turn to have a pretty woman kiss me"

"[name] i'll treat you so well PLEASE"

i think the clip of you helping jay cut the onions kinda goes viral, just because you look so attractive doing it

like the way you popped into frame as you rolled up your sleeves and the way you smirked at jay's inability to see... ZOOWEE MAMA!!!!!

and i think this eventually makes its way onto tiktok

like pretty standard videos of ppl being like "JAY'S GIRLFRIEND HELLO???" with comments like "she's so beautiful," etc

jay honestly thinks its funny

he knows that people are joking and he sometimes actually plays along with them

he loves that people are appreciating your beauty (but he loves even more that he's the only one that actually gets you)

when you first go viral, you're kinda shy about it, but jay just pulls you close, kisses your cheek, squishing them, and says "my baby is so beautiful"

youre like "jayyyyyy stoopppp"

he only chuckles and starts to pepper your face with more kisses, despite your lil whines for him to stop

but then while you two are cuddling one night, you laying on his chest with your face in his neck

a tiktok appears on his fyp

its just some teenager being like "hi does anyone know if jay's girlfriend is single?" while showing off a black BMW in the background... and then jay's directly tagged in it

he takes this as his opportunity to strike back

he stitches that tiktok, and makes his own tiktok in response

it's just a really short video where jay shows you all snuggled up against him completely silent before he just says "No, she is not single. 😐."

the caption's like "i'm taking [name] out on a date tomorrow shhh don't tell her"

everyone thinks it's really sweet tbh

jake ☆

truthfully i think jake would be into youtube commentary

something like danny gonzalez or jarvis johnson

he looks at troom troom videos and makes fun of them lowk 😭

speaking of, troom troom or troom troom - adjacent content usually has crazy ass lifehacks

so for one of his videos jake is testing out troom troom life hacks

and for one of them, he has to drill a hole in a skateboard or something and put pasta noodles in it idk i'm pulling this out of my ass but its not surprising if this is a legitimate troom troom life hack

unlike heeseung and jay, jake's viewerbase doesn't rlly know about you

again, given the nature of his content, jake never rlly found it necessary to mention his personal relationships

anyways jake is in the middle of your living room floor drilling a hole into a skateboard and putting spaghettie in it when you come home from work and see that shit

jake is in the middle of talking to the camera but the moment the door cracks open he trails off

he gives you that smile-- the one that a puppy gives when their owner catches them doing something they shouldnt aw

when you take in the sight before you, you let out a laugh, not noticing the camera rolling

you place your things down and slink toward your boyfriend

"what's going on here, jakey?" you ask him with a cocked brow, loving the way he chuckles nervously

you crouch down beside him, poking the skateboard-spaghetti abomination with your foot

"i'm testing out troom troom life hacks" he sounds defeated lol

anyways you give him a kiss on his cheek and leave him to his own devices

in the final video, your little interruption is only like 15 seconds bc jake cut it down-- but he def keeps the part where you kiss him

HOWEVER.

because jake's audience didn't know he had a girlfriend

they were all like WOAH WHO IS THAT GORGEOUS WOMAN

a few of his fans look at who he's following on instagram, and they find your account

your ig is public, but it's definitely small and personal

they find pictures of you and jake doing cute couple things, a lot of mirror selfies, matching costumes, and cute pictures that you take of jake

but...

they also find your own personal pictures

ones of you in a bikini at the beach, ones of you with the golden sun on your face, ones showing off your outfit and hair, ones of you in the morning, ones of you being a baddie

and lets not mention jake in the ig comment sections hyping you up like a teenage boy like "YOURE SO HOT [NAME] 🔥🔥🔥🔥"

jake and you see all the comments and tweets about you

so jake decides to take it upon himself to clarify everything

he posts a picture on instagram of you and him with the caption "yes, that's my girlfriend"

safe to say that it becomes his top post LMAOAAO

his ig comments are flooded with support

"you guys are so cute"

"i'm glad to see jake have someone that he loves"

etc

YOUR ig comment section on the other hand?

flooded with support

and thirst

HELP

his fans are respectful but they REALLY love to compliment you

"woahhh you look so good in this one!"

"gorgeous 😍"

"[name] will you marry me?"

but i do think a few are outright insane omg

"[name] you're my sunshine in the ran, the tylenol when i'm in pain, when it's burning hot on summer days you're exactly what i need"

i think they pull out poetic shit omg

like shit like

"the memory of you is a tapestry I had decided to wrap myself in until it suffocated me, to such extent that in the morning, people will not find my body, but a new silhouette woven within its threads"

"there is a city in my heart where you are its only population"

"if i could remake universe, i would replace you as the moon amongst the stars after your time, so i may gaze upon you every night"

jake is NEVER escaping

you appreciate the hype

but jakey?

he loves that you're being appreciate but YOU'RE HIS

WHO ARE THESE PEOPLE AND WHY DO THEY THINK THEY HAVE A CHANCE W U

"jakey they're just being nice"

"no they're trying to STEAL YOU"

like a day later he posts a picture of you on his instagram with the caption "she's mine btw"

his comments DO NOT CARE 😭😭😭

when someone comments

"jake is your gf single and can i take her out on a date"

jake straight up responds

"NO."

what a cutie

sunghoon ☆

i actually don't think sunghoon would be a YOUTUBER youtuber

instead i think he'd be a famous ice skater, but he has YOUTUBE interviews and is active on social media

definitely the type of athlete that's very personable

like sunghoon is def in touch with his fanbase and interacts with them on twt and stuff

his fanbase knows that he has a gf, but that's basically the limit

anyways sunghoon is doing one of those "WIRED answered the web's most searched questions"

you're actually in the studio with him during the interview, kinda there for support

the questions are tame like

"sunghoon park height" "sunghoon park winter olympics 2018" "where was sunghoon park born" etc

sunghoon's killing it

until one of the last questions on the board is "does sunghoon park have a girlfriend?"

he immediately lights up

"i do have a girlfriend!" he says, looking off-set at you, "her name's [name] and she's the most beautiful woman i've ever met"

you chuckle quietly at his comment, flashing him a pretty smile

sunghoon continues- "she's actually here with me today" and he points to you, making the cameraman pan over to you, who is sitting off the set

you just give the camera a thumbs up

you thought that would be the end, but sunghoon asks, "baby, do you want to do this interview with me?"

ofc you agree

he makes u sit on his lap lol even when the camera crew is bringing another chair for you

instead of answer more questions sunghoon just talks about your relationship the entire time

he's giving an entire history lecture about your relationship

you don't say much, but you listen to him intently

when this interview goes up

a lot of his fans make edits of it

sunghoon is already known as a quiet typa guy, but when he talks for like 2 minutes straight about your relationship everyones like "oh god this guy really likes his girlfriend 😭"

in fact

the official interview cuts down sunghoon's tangent about you to 2 minutes, when the original clip was actually 10 minutes

i like to believe that WIRED released an uncut version of his tangent 😭

his fans make short edit videos like "sunghoon being whipped for [name]" or "sunghoon really likes his gf"

i think his fans also make edits of YOU

even though you're honestly in a very short clip of his interview

the way you look at him and listen so intently is SO GOOD

like you were definitely giving him 'the look' as he talked abt your relationship yk?

that once-over, maybe a little lip bite, MMMMM SO GOOD

now....

ik i said that heeseung was the keyboard warrior but like... i think sunghoon is the real one

he's out here fighting BATTLES with his keyboard oml

when stan twitter sees this.... sunghoon starts to fight them

there's tweets like

"the more i listen to sunghoon talk about his gf i more i feel like i'm falling for her"

"the woman that you are, [name]..."

"when she looks at the camera i feel shy"

"omg SHE WANTS ME"

sunghoon gets petty OH MY GOD

he responds to all the tweets about you

like

"she does not want you 😐." "you have no chance with her. 😐." "too bad she's mine 😇"

it's def in a playful joking way and it's really funny, but sunghoon is out here defending your honor

i think at some point sunghoon stops responding with words and just begins responding with pictures

someone tweets "sunghoon is your gf single"

and he straight up just responds with a picture of him staring blankly at the camera

LIKE HE'S DRILLING HOLES THROUGH THE CAMERA WITH HIS EYES

an absolute cutie if i do say so myself

on valentines day he posts a picture of him holding your hand to be extra petty lol

maknae ver.

[picaroroboto]

Exile, it takes your mind, again

[dosshie]

my mom, that studied african religion for more than a decade and is part of umbanda, live reaction to ororon and iansan:

"I don't care if you make them white with blue eyes, at least study the gods you're basing them from!!!!"

im too afraid of twitter so imma post this here, but for short: the skin color is not the only problem! lol

i asked my mom who is very knowledgeable of the religion for her opinions and this is what we talked!! please don't take this post as an flawless analysis, you should also hear the opinions of people from umbanda, candomblé, and specially from nigeria. i'm mainly doing this because this religion barely gets any representation at all, so this will be the first time many people will be introduced to this culture and while i'm happy that it's included in a game that i play, it's important to recognize its shortcomings, anyway enough rambling!

for iansan, her character is based on iansã, the orixá (deity/god) of the winds and storms, she is seen as a warrior and is associated with the color red

she said that they easily could've given her buffalo horns on her mask, since iansã's animal is the buffalo (tho i know some people may think this is insensitive since yknow, giving one of the few dark-skinned charactes an animal skull doesn't look very good), the other thing she said is that they could've given her some braids in her hair, because in history thats what iansã and her army used to wear when they were going in combat (which was like, VERY on point??? i didnt tell her natlan was the nation of war beforehand)

other than that she didn't gave much imput, probably because her design does look like someone who fights

now, as for ororon... he is based on olorum, the orixá closest to a god/creator, and is commonly associated with...... the color white..... and one of his visual features is his staff

she said that they could've easily given him light hair/eyes, for her ororon doesn't seem to resemble olorum in the slightest, i also asked jokingly what she thought about him being a wolfboy and she said that it was fine lol

she asked me what power (vision/weapon) they gave to him and i said that i didn't know, but from the leaks they said that he's a bow character, and she immediately said that they made logunedé, in her words: "HE'S A HUNTER AND HE LOOKS A BIT SISSY, IT'S LOGUMEDÉ!"

logumedé is the son of the orixás oxóssi and oxum, he is a hunter like his father and takes care of his looks like his mother* (that's why she called him sissy LOL), his weapon is the bow, his colors are blue and yellow and he's associated with the animal peacock, which was what made my mom make that connection, ororon's scarf reminded her a lot of a peacock feather

*the word used here is vaidoso but... that doesn't exist in english lmao?? the closest we have is "vain" but vain is much more akin to superficial, which is not a synonymous of vaidoso, so yeah, weird translation quirk here, vaidoso means that you care of yourself/your looks because they are important to you

erhmmm anyway 1 like and i'll redesign them based on the actual orixás (/hj i still have artfight attacks to finish lmao)

[outlawruben]

Modern AU headcannons

The Vandermatthews family edition

When John was a teenager he made slime and got it in Dutch’s expensive Persian rug he keeps in the office. (Dutch was LIVID.)

Hosea reads late into the night, which caused Dutch to buy one of those clip on reading lights so he can finally sleep peacefully.

Dutch and Hosea do embarrassing dances in the kitchen/living spaces when the kids are around. Arthur and John cringe hard at this.

John was introduced to Limp Bizkit and his life was forever changed.

Arthur: “GET OUT OF MY ROOM.”

John *In the doorway*: “IM NOT IN YOUR ROOM.”

Arthur: “dinner is ready.”

John: “OKAY.”

Arthur, louder: “OKAY!”

Arthur tans at the beach, John burns

Arthur has straight A’s, John has straight C’s

John will take a (monthly) shower and get the WHOLE floor wet

John’s favorite Christmas was when he got a bass guitar, and Arthur’s favorite was when he got his blue truck.

Arthur sits on Dutch/Hosea’s bed and just spills the tea to Hosea late into the evening (Dutch wants to get ready for bed soon)

Arthur is a PC player, and John is a console player

John has to go to the mall with Arthur when he wants to go alone because “John doesn’t socialize enough”

They both got to choose their bedroom colors, however, John wasn’t allowed to do THE DARKEST black in the store, so his room is a dark grey with a black accent wall. (Arthur’s room is blue)

Branching off of that, Arthur and John could decorate their rooms HOWEVER they wanted, there was no intervention from the dads

Hosea does the “Dad hand” during road trips when the boys have a snack he wants.

Hosea is the designated driver because Dutch has terrible road rage

They live on a pond, in fact Dutch and Hosea argued over it before buying the house, so much so that Hosea threatened a divorce because the ONLY thing he wants is a pond. Dutch folded, and Hosea fishes everyday.

Arthur loved Percy Jackson and John loved Warrior Cats.

Arthur is a cereal eater, and John is a pop-tart eater

The contrast between Arthur’s masterpieces vs John’s doodles are crazy. (They’re both proudly displayed on the front of the fridge no matter what) (yes this is based on their canonical journal entries, sue me)

John and Arthur took those embarrassing Macy’s photoshoots in the early 2000’s that are out on display for everyone to see in the future.

John has an INCREDIBLY embarrassing graduation photo from when he was in his emo phase in high school, and his dads refuse to remove it. (It’s placed next to Arthur’s gleaming grad photo)

Dutch has slippers he wears around the house, and Hosea just wears his socks.

John still doesn’t know how to swim in this AU, Hosea has tried to teach him, but John refuses to get in the water.

They have taxidermy in their house from when Hosea went hunting more often when he was younger.

Somehow Hosea and Dutch’s aesthetics work so well together.

Dutch is very much old money, and maximalist, and Hosea is definitely Vintage and Woodsy (It works together if you saw their house)

You would be convinced that John’s nails were naturally black and chipped from how much he painted them.

Hosea has a “Shop” in the garage like every dad has to have. (It’s full of fishing supplies, paint cans, and other tools ofc)

John’s room is very dark, messy, and covered in posters from every movie/Tv show/video game he’s ever seen/played. Also, making the bed? What’s that?

Arthur’s room is open and airy, with his own mountain murals painted on the walls, a full art desk, and he also doesn’t know what making the bed means.

[shera-dnd]

I have decided against my better judgement to be weird about the Dawntrail MSQ

and we can't talk about an expansion set in the fantasy americas without talking about

COLONIALISM

oh yeah, we're going there baby

So disclaimer that I may be brazilian, but my ass is white as hell, so take everything I say with a grain of salt. Also if any native americans have made posts on this please let me know so I can boost their analysis as well

Also also I'm more than happy to delete this post if I mess up. I'm genuinely trying to make a thoughtful analysis, so if I fuck up just say the word and this thing is gone from this website

Oh also also also, Dawntrail MSQ spoilers ahead!

So FFXIV has had a... messy relationship with colonialism over the years

The fact that the major antagonists for the first half of A Realm Reborn a literally called "beast man tribes" is absolutely not a good start to this story

Add to that the fact that The Twelve (Eorzea's gods) are shown to be kind all powerful deities, while the Primals (the tribal gods) are evil spirits summoned to bring destruction to the world

and yeah no ARR is not good with that shit. It's EXTREMELY not good. If I hadn't been told it got better later on I would have dropped this shit before I got to Titan

But they have been taking steps to unfuck things. First we're shown that even the "civilized societies" (in this case the catholic elves) can summon Primals, then that Primal summoning isn't an actual native custom but was introduced by foreigners with malicious intent, and that not all "beast man" practice that

Then they changed the names of the "Beast Man Tribe Quests" to "Tribal Quests" and then finally to "Allied Society Quest"

Which would have been an empty gesture had like half of the post-Shadowbringer patches, as well a lot of Endwalker, not been about forming alliances with those people and working together with them, recognizing that they have as much right to the land and to life as any Eorzean, this all culminating on the Primals being summoned with the express purpose of helping you protect the world you all share

I guess they realized that they couldn't have their big bad for most of the game be the evil expansionist empire, if they didn't like actually reflect in their own imperialist fantasies they were propagating

Then the teaser trailer for Dawntrail drops and everyone in the fandom is like "wait... are we gonna do a colonialism?"

And memes were abound of how all those lessons from before don't apply to the "New World" of Tural

THANKFULLY the actual questline leading to Dawntrail helped to settle some of those worries

We're not going to Tural to explore a new uncharted land, but are actually being invited over by the local royalty in order to aid them with their right of succession. We get introduced to the nation of Tuliyollal and how it's a thriving land with its own culture and not just a "terra nil" waiting to be colonized

Still there are some worries that this is gonna turn out poorly and that we're just gonna end up being white saviors

But I think they managed to avoid that pretty well

For starters neither the Scions nor the Warrior of Light are the protagonists of this story. You're all simply supporting character's in Wuk Lamat's story

A story that centers her people, her culture, and her family

And it's not even one culture. They don't portray Tuliyollal as this monolithic mish mash of every single native american culture

No, the lands of Tural are in fact comprised of multiple different people's and nations, each of them with their own customs and traditions which are informed by their history and the lands they live in

In fact learning about their cultures and partaking in their customs is the whole point of the Rite of Succession. It's all set up so that the next Dawnservant would be someone who understands and respects each of the peoples that comprise Tural

(I could, and probably will, write about what Dawntrail has to say about what makes a good ruler)

And our girl, Wuk Lamat, is shown to be the rightful heir because she really goes out of her way to understand each of the nations and show her appreciation for their customs

Putting her well above her Sharlyaboo brother Koana, The King of Unresolved Daddy Issues Zoral Ja, and whatever the fuck is going on with Bakool Ja Ja

(I joke, I love my two headed traumatized dumbass)

Tho I will admit that this does end up giving the tribes a somewhat "planet of the hats" vibe. Like their named NPCs are diverse and interesting, but you can just assume that most random NPCs of any given people are gonna act according to the stereotype

Which is unfortunate, but I have hopes that with the next few patches and the addition of Dawntrail's own Allied Society Quests, we'll get to see more to them

But that... is only up to lvl95 and the end of the Yok'Tural (southern Tural) segment

because then we get to Xak'Tural (northern Tural) and holy shit does it feel like they drop the ball there

Like they really COULDN'T keep themselves from making Shaaloani a fucking Wild West map

Instead of doing anything with the actual cultures and histories of Native North American people, they just do wild fucking west

Because there's ceruleum in them thar hills! And apparently Koana turned most of the region into Sharlyaboos too

So we get a bunch of Wild West frontier towns mixed with native american tribes and mud brick cities. We have trains and guns and a sheriff and a duel at high noon, but now everyone got native american names

At least there's one group off to the northern side of the map who seems to stick to tradition and live in harmony with nature, and that group is shown respect by the other people of the region

so we at the very least avoid the "cowboys vs indians" crap, but my god does that region just feel bad compared to everything else they had done so far

Then we get to the big twist: THE CYBERPUNK PORTION OF THE GAME

because yes, we go full fucking cyberpunk

so turns out that a whole segment of Xak'Tural got colonized by the kingdom of Alexandria, including the lands of the Shetona (Erenville's people)

And I feel like this is the most poignant section of the MSQ when it comes to colonialism

Because here we have Alexandria, an empire that has reached the limit of what it can do sustain itself on its own world, and so has decided to spread out and colonize others in order to gain resources

We see the Shetona and other natives of the region being separated from their families and kept in isolation from the rest of their people

And tho Queen Sphene is shown to be a kind and caring ruler who gives people a choice when it comes to joining the empire, WELL SHE'S STILL THE QUEEN OF A FUCKING EMPIRE

Like her form of kindness and just stagnant peace is put in stark contrast with Wuk Lamat's own love for her people and more proactive pursuit of happiness and harmony

(again with the "what makes a ruler theme")

Also the people that choose to be assimilated into the Alexandrian Empire? Yeah, they're doing so because Alexandria has advanced medical technology and you can only receive their aid if you're a citizen

Not only that, but you have to be a working citizen. We see later on a character being denied medical aid, because he lost his job, thanks to the King's decision and at no fault of his own

yeah this is cyberpunk, not just sci-fi

ALSO can we talk about how the technology used for that medical aid and the little gizmo they give you to signify you're now a citizen, will literally erase the memory of the people you lost

So the Turali who are assimilated into Alexandrian culture not only lose ties to their culture and their loved ones, but are not allowed to grieve their loss, because what they once had is slowly being erased

How their choices add up to survive on their own OR be assimilated

How this all takes place IN NORTH FUCKING AMERICA!

THE CYBERPUNK CITY IS LITERALLY SET IN THIS WORLD'S EQUIVALENT TO THE UNITED STATES

So yeah, I don't think is is accidental. I genuinely thing that they're making a point about the realities of imperialism and colonialism, as well as taking some shots at the US while they're at it

Of course this part is still centered around Wuk Lamat, and instead of having a moment of "the only ones who can stop the evil white europeans are the GOOD white europeans", we have Wuk Lamat be the one to save the day, defeat Sphene, and save her people from the colonizing empire

So I would like to argue that everything that happens from lvl97 onwards is them picking up the ball again and making a real point

buuuut that comes at the cost of us being unable to engage with the native peoples of Xak'Tural outside of the context of colonialism

Which genuinely fucking sucks, and I hope it will be remedied with the post-Dawntrail patches

As well as handling the whole shared land situation they ended up with and how this might end up in a Land Back sort of movement, and oh boy can they mess shit up royally there

So in conclusion FFXIV has had a messy relationship with colonialism and imperialist fantasies and tropes, but the devs seem to be making a concerted effort to undo their mistakes and show respect in their depictions of american natives

They still fuck up

boy do they

but they're at least trying, and I'd say Dawntrail so far has been quite well executed

so yeah, look forward to more insane rambles like this one I guess

[streets-in-paradise]

Matured Desire - Achilles x (Fem) Reader

Troy (2004) Oneshot

Requested by Anon

" hiya! I have an Achilles request, what if they’ve both been sort of enemies for the longest time ever since they were kids, and at one point he gets fed up, and kisses her roughly ending up in the roughest kinkiest sex people could think of (tying up, choking, spanking, dirty talk, dom x sub, sort of a hate fuck.) please! "

Hi! I'm a bit nervous because this is my first time writing a full piece of smut, but I did my best and i hope you will enjoy it. The plot for the childhood rivalry is inspired in greek mythology, but adapted to how the story of the film plays out regarding characterzations.

Warnings: Rough hate fuck against a wall - hair pulling -chocking - spanking - lots of dirty talk.

Summary: Your eternal rivalry with Achilles gets you the attention of the mycenaean king In the context of his country wide search for a queen. Bringing up your troubled past together, the myrmidon believes you are seeking an union with Agamemnon to get the power to destroy his life.

As he confronts you about it, your tensions get to a critical point when the warrior concludes he will have to do something out of it. Your hatred remains too close to passion and he can only ruin you for any other man before you could ruin his lifetime's ambitions.

Tags: @thorsslxve

There was nothing Achilles despised more than the cheerfullness of Agamemnon. Not only because it usually meant bad news, but also due to how insufferable he tended to become on a good mood. His arrogance was high up to the sky contesting with his. Since the king felt in constant need to compete with his best warrior, it was important for him to brag on his every achievement.

On that particular moment, it was about the bride he would get for himself. After his brother married the most beautifull woman in the world he started to reconsider the lack of a queen in his palace and commanded every king of Greece to pick one of their unwed daughters so he could pick a wife among the princesses of the region. All the generals of his army were invited to witness the contest, and a handfull of kings he considered friends were there as well.

It was a power display to cause envy. A parade of the most ravishing girls of Greece after Helen circling the King in some sort of reverse parody of what happened when the spartan queen was still a maiden wanted by a multitude of suitors. The myrmidon found it hilarious, but that entertainment came with the price of standing the triumphal bliss of his rival.

In order to avoid an early scandall making fun of him, Achilles tried to distract himself watching the girls. They were all veiled for the future groom, only showing their faces when he commanded each one to introduce themselves. Beauty from all over the country was gathered there and while their faces remained covered he could still have a fun cassually checking their bodies.

He found a personal favorite quite soon. The light clothes of her fancy purple dress allowed him to perfectly picture her shape underneath, occupying his imagination in more pleasant thoughts. One by one her contestants did their thing, but he followed her with expectancy for the big reveal.

All traces of amusement abandoned the warrior's face when he recognized you. From all his many daughters, King Lycomedes had to pick you in representation of Scyros. It was unfortunately true for him that you had become a very desirable woman, so the choice was understandable, but you were one his enemies of longest date. Since he was a kid hidding in your father's court, and when you were teenagers you almost got him kicked out of there.

Everytime you crossed ways, disaster happened.

It was an unspoken theory, but he believed it all started because you were jealous of your sister. She was his first crush, and you told your father about it after you discovered them making out. Lycomedes would have kicked him out if Odysseus wouldn't have discovered his disguise in the first place, but your hatred didn't end with that.

Only a heartbroken girl would react so viscerally, the hate you hoarded for years didn't make sense otherwise. He believed you still despised him because you couldn't have him and once that childhood crush matured into desire things could only escalate. You would never forgive him for being your first love, but the passion of your hate showed your flame never got extinguished.

As soon as circunstancies allowed it, you were mesmerizing the mycenaean king with your disdain for his soldier.

" Achilles! Long time no seen. " You saluted him, with poisonous cordiality. " How are things going in your kingdom of savages? Well, only if that can be called a kingdom. Nowadays it's a military reserve of Mycenae you don't even rule as king. "

The myrmidon was visibly calm, calculating his strike before delivering it.

" How is Deidamia? I remember her with such strong affection."

" She is married. " You responded, with false propriety. " Happyly married, thanks to our protectiveness of her keeping scum away."

The wedding of his teenage crush didn't bother him at all, but he still manage to utilize it against you.

" I always knew she was going to make it before you. Look now where you ended: pleasing an old man that could be your father. "

You showed a tranquilzing smile to the king, mere witness of your altercate that was untill then very amused.

" Don't worry, your majesty. Achilles tends to act like this arround me because my presence reminds him of details that ruin the appeal of his legend. He wants no one to remember he spent his younger years hidding in my palace dressing on girl's clothes so your emisaries wouldn't find him. Have you seen the baby face of his little cousin? He has the same girly features he used to have back then."

Agamemnon was in awe with the slander. Even if it was just for that, you were becoming a strong favorite.

" Well, my dear. I hope you have some good stories for me. "

" She is the only person in the country who is more obsessed with me than you. " Achilles recalled, determined to ruin your plans. " She went as far as turning her father against me saying i was going to sleep with her sister. "

The way in which he twisted the facts to make it sound like a conspiracy against him got out the worst of you.

" I was the onlyone seeing past your charm, and time proved I was ríght now that we all know of your amatory adventures. " You fiercely defended yourself. " You were a reckless boy that had just discovered the thing hanging between his legs and was eager to try it on the first foolish girl available. Deidamia was too naive, but I knew better. By warning my father I protected her and saved our royal house from the shame of being stucked with a fatherless mess like the one you were when we received you. "

It crossed límits, but he wasn't afraid of returning the hatefull gesture.

" I think your boyfriend deserves to know where all that hate for me comes from before taking his choice. " He teased you ríght away. " You are my Phaedra … "

He had just compared you to the most sexually frustrated queen in greek history, whose vengefull spite was rooted on being ignored by the object of her desires.

" You insolent BASTARD!!! " You called him out before you could loose your temper and try to smack him. " Better start praying I won't be crowned queen. "

The warning left a bad taste in his mouth that was stronger than the altercate. Imagining you as Agamemnon's bride was a nightmare on itself because of the implications of a teaming up against him, but there was more that he couldn't simply admit.

He hated you, but couldn't stand the thought of seeing you with him. He still attempted to understand why you were so Interested on giving yourself to that pig of a king. Could your thirst for vengeance have gone that far? Where you capable of tolerating Agamemnon as your husband just so you could get some control over him? It was most likely that you had no idea of where you were stepping in, since your island once sheltered him safely because they didn't have much contact with the mycenaeans.

Figuring out what you were all about was his most inmediate need but, for that, he needed to talk to you in private. All day he awaited untill the oportunity to get lost with you presented itself during a lousy banquet. Following you closely as you intended to leave, he catched you off guard in a hallway.

" You knew this was coming, now follow me. "

Your playfull smirk spoke for you before you did.

" What If I don't? "

He grabbed you harshly, keeping your wrist still.

" We will do it the hard way. "

There was no choice, so you let him guide you through the foreign palace searching for the nearest room he could lock you in. Achilles secured the door behind him, knowing from then you were going to be completely alone.

" After comparing me to the thirsty wife of Theseus, you drag me away like this? " You mocked him ríght away. " Have you no shame? "

The tension was escalating slowly, but consistently.

" I have no time for your games, so you better tell me what I want to know. "

You chuckled lightly, enjoying yourself in this curiosity.

" Go ahead, i'm feeling generous. "

He groaned out of angered frustration, clearly fed up with you already.

" What do you want from Agamemnon? Do you expect me to believe you really are excited to the chance of being his wife? "

You response was calm and you were aware that would provoke him.

" He is the wealthiest, most powerfull man in Greece, and he hates you … Two qualities I find irresistible. "

He pushed you against a wall, barely able to control his rage to continue the interrogation.

" Do you think i'm a fool? You can't possibly wish for anything but the power to destroy me through that marriage. "

His strong hand grabbed your neck and squeezed, cutting off your air with ease. Achilles wanted to force a truth out of you, but couldn't help noticing you were peraphs too on board with that before releasing you so you could speak.

" I want an empty palace where i can sit on a throne. " You began to explain once you catched your breath. " While he will be away with you doing his wars, i can do what I want here. "

It wasn't enough for him.

" … And when he will want to touch you? Are you going to spread your legs for him like a good little wife ? "

His hand was once more arround your neck, quietly threatening with more choking depending of your answer.

" Are you trying to scare me? That's not going to work with me. " You mischievously warned him. " I'll do what it takes, my duty of queen. Agamemnon can have me, I will even fake my moans if i have to just to keep him satisfied. I'm fine with that, he has to get something out of the deal. I will take care of his throne and meet his sexual needs "

The answer awakened something primal on him.

" Not if I ruin you first … "

Sick of pretending to ignore the frustrating tension, he pulled you in for a rough kiss and you responded taking one of your hands to the back of his neck to pull his hair.

There was no way out for you from then.

Achilles ripped off the safety pins of your dress so it would fall on the floor. Once you were naked against him he began to tease you again.

" Look at how easily I destroyed your pride … Yet you dare to deny you are a needy whore. "

You didn't stay behind, iniciating another passionately hatefull kiss while your hands worked in undressing him. The godly shaped hero allowed you to roam his perfectly sculped body and you sank your nails in his hips before replying.

" You are only good at killing or fucking and you loathe me enough for either, so unless you want to spear me … "

The recklessness was paid at high cost when he turned you over so you will be facing the wall, head posicioned firmly to the side.

" I'm going to make you feel as if I was killing you. " He whispered against your ear in a husky tone. " But first, you will learn to respect me. "

You flinched with anticipation, incapable of predicting what he would do. Then, his hand started following the trace of your back all the way down and stopped in the curve of your ass.

A soft squeeze was followed by a hard spank that sounded as strongly as it felt. It send a wave of confusing, pain-stained pleasure all the way to your core, but you tried to keep still. He persisted, untill it became so intense that your knees were failing and you were about to cry.

" Who are you going to spread your legs for now? " He asked in a mock. " Are you going to be my obedient little whore? "

You lost the few shame you had left with one more slap on the mistreated surface of your asscheck.

" YES, YES! " You practically cried out. " I'll be, … I'll be your whore. I want it so badly, please! "

Achilles released a dark chuckle.

" Let's see how bad you really want it. "

He had barely reached the surface of your soaked cunt with his fingertips and you were already buckling your hips in desperation to find friction.

" Dripping wet, you nasty whore. " He commented and removed the hand to watch you fall apart. " Stop whimpering, i'm not going to keep touching you. Caresses are not what you deserve."

Suddenly, you felt the tip of his hard cock teasing your folds. Arrousal had reduced you to a pathetic mess and he got to hear you sobbing from that contact.

" No mercy, I will be rammering you. " He warned you. " … and you are going to take it. "

With that, he pushed himself inside you. Absolutely careless for your needed time adjusting to his size, he began his mercieless thrusting using you for his pleasure. The animalistic grunts he was making and the exquisite painfull pleasure of being fucked like that were soon going to become to much for you.

Achilles had completed his vengeance to control you before you could control him: you were ruined for any other man.

[bitterkarella]

Midnight Pals: Frankensexy

Guillermo del Toro: Submitted for the approval of the midnight society, I call this the tale of frankenstein del Toro: but this time del Toro: there's a little twist del Toro: the twist is that frankenstein is hot

del Toro: see, what if it starred Andrew Garfield and Oscar Isaac? Mary Shelley: which one is frankenstein? del Toro: doesn't matter, they're both pretty fuckable Shelley: Shelley: yeah that's right

Bram Stoker: are we back on this fuckable frankenstein kick? this is just awful Stoker: you're destroying the essence of the story! Stoker: frankenstein can't be hot Stoker: he's SUPPOSED to represent the hubris of man's folly! Mary Shelley: shut the fuck up bram

del Toro: and we're getting mia goth to be in it too Bram Stoker: and who's she playing? del Toro: del Toro: uhhhh del Toro: igor?

Mary Shelley: igor's not in the fuckin book Stephen King: are you sure about that, mary? i mean i've seen frankenstein and i'm pretty sure there was an igor Shelley: that was the MOVIE steve Shelley: and also igor wasn't in that either!! Shelley: jesus christ you guys

King: whoa whoa whoa mary King: are you saying that igor wasn't in the frankenstein book OR the frankenstein movie? Shelley: that's right King: well then King: where's he from? Barker: that's some real mandela effect shit Shelley: NO IT'S NOT

King: ok but where's igor from then? Shelley: how the hell should i know? probably from one of those fuckin idk flintstones meets frankenstein shit specials or something King: c'mon mary that's just silly King: also it would be frankenSTONE Shelley: what

Shelley: fine! put an igor in! I don't fuckin care Shelley: do whatever you fuckin want with your fuckin femme igor that Shelley: femme igor Shelley: wait Shelley: wait a second actually this idea slaps

del Toro: anyway back to my del Toro: [waggles eyebrows] cabinet of curiosities!

del Toro: watch, i'm going to introduce every episode the cabinet of curiosities with a pithy philosophical monologue del Toro: like if i was the giant flying liquid metal skull at the beginning of skeleton warriors Barker: pft you can try man but you're no tony jay

del Toro: light del Toro: dark del Toro: the two sides of the same coin battling for the hearts of mens souls del Toro: but what of those in the middle? del Toro: which way del Toro: will they turn?   [dramatic pause] King: just gives ya chills doesn't it? Barker: not really

[aifanfictions]

a story about (y/n) who is khal drogo's translator and khal drogo slowly falls in love with her and asks her to be his khaleesi in front of all his people one night by the fire

The Khaleesi's Heart

(Y/N) had always been captivated by the vastness of the Dothraki Sea, with its endless golden plains stretching as far as the eye could see. She had joined the Khalasar as a translator, seeking adventure and a chance to immerse herself in the rich culture of the fierce horse lords. Little did she know that her journey would lead to an unexpected and life-changing encounter.

Khal Drogo, a man of immense stature and a reputation that preceded him, had never taken much interest in the affairs of outsiders. His heart was bound to the warrior code, and his focus was on conquest and the endless expansion of his Khalasar. As he led his people through the sea of grass, he rarely spared a second thought for anything or anyone beyond his warriors and his beloved bloodriders.

One fateful evening, as the setting sun bathed the horizon in hues of fiery red and orange, Khal Drogo's warriors captured a party of travelers on the fringes of his territory. Among them was (Y/N), who had been accompanying a merchant caravan on her journey to learn the Dothraki ways. She found herself standing before the imposing Khal, her heart pounding in her chest.

(Y/N) knew the importance of diplomacy and the art of communication. Fluent in both the Dothraki tongue and the common language of Westeros, she was able to bridge the gap between her people and the fierce Khalasar. Her eyes met Drogo's, and she bowed respectfully, uttering the words of introduction in flawless Dothraki.

"Anhaan vekhat hoshori, majin adak jin," she spoke, introducing herself as a translator.

Khal Drogo, unaccustomed to hearing his mother tongue from the lips of a foreigner, was taken aback. His dark eyes bore into hers as if trying to decipher her intentions. Her confidence, intelligence, and the fire in her eyes intrigued him in a way that no one ever had.

Over time, as (Y/N) continued to serve as translator, she and Khal Drogo shared more than just words. She found herself drawn to the strength and honor that defined his character. He, in turn, began to seek her presence during meetings and discussions, valuing her insights and wisdom.

As the weeks turned into months, a connection grew between them, though they rarely spoke of it aloud. (Y/N) saw beyond the fearsome exterior of Khal Drogo, recognizing the depth of his heart and the unspoken longing in his gaze. Khal Drogo, a man of few words, found himself yearning for (Y/N)'s companionship, her laughter, and the way her eyes sparkled when she shared tales of her homeland.

The Khalasar continued its relentless journey across the Dothraki Sea, conquering rival clans and collecting tribute. In the midst of the dust and chaos of battle, Khal Drogo and (Y/N) found solace in each other's presence. They shared stolen moments by the campfire, where he would listen to her recount stories of the world beyond the grasslands, and she would learn of the proud history of the Dothraki.

One night, as they sat by the fire, the sky above them was ablaze with a tapestry of stars. Khal Drogo turned to (Y/N), his eyes filled with an intensity she had come to know all too well.

"Anhaan vekhat anni, (Y/N)," he said, his voice low and filled with sincerity. "You have brought light to my Khalasar and to my heart. You are strong, wise, and beautiful. Will you be my Khaleesi?"

(Y/N)'s heart skipped a beat. She had never anticipated such a proposition. To be the Khaleesi of the Great Khal Drogo meant leaving behind her old life, her dreams of adventure, and embracing a destiny she had never imagined. Yet, as she looked into the eyes of the man who had come to mean so much to her, she knew that her heart had already made its choice.

"Yes, Khal Drogo," she replied, her voice unwavering. "I will be your Khaleesi."

Word of Khal Drogo's declaration spread throughout the Khalasar like wildfire. The warriors and the women ululated in celebration, recognizing that their Khal had chosen a powerful and deserving Khaleesi. The union of two strong souls promised a future of prosperity and unity.

As the flames of the fire danced around them that night, Khal Drogo and (Y/N) sealed their commitment with a sacred Dothraki ritual. Their love would be tested in the trials of the unforgiving Dothraki culture, but they were determined to stand together, a force to be reckoned with.

And so, under the vast, starlit expanse of the Dothraki Sea, a new chapter in their lives began. Khal Drogo, once a warrior without equal, had found something even more precious than conquest – love. And (Y/N), the outsider who had ventured into this world seeking adventure, had found a love that would change her destiny forever.

As the months turned into years, Khal Drogo and his Khaleesi led the Great Khalasar to new heights, forging alliances and achieving greatness that had not been seen in generations. Their love story, whispered through the winds of the Dothraki Sea, became a legend, a testament to the power of love to transcend boundaries and unite even the fiercest of hearts.

In the heart of the Dothraki Sea, beneath the endless sky, Khal Drogo and (Y/N) embarked on a journey of love and destiny, a journey that would shape the future of the Dothraki and etch their names into the annals of history as a love that conquered all.

NOTE! This story was generated by OpenAI

[yawntu]

Tsyeym

A/N: Yo I thought I posted this last night, took shrooms. Finally just woke back up came and checked and was like no way no one has interacted w this fic and then realized i never pressed post. Rotxo deserves more love so I decided in a little fic for him. Switch x Switch couples are just my cup of tea. This is not my fav but I am a sucker for love and romance. It’s grammarly proofread but not beta read 🤭 (might be looking for another beta reader)

pairing(s): Rotxo x f!Reader, platonic!Ao’nung x f!Reader (briefly)

word count: ~8k

warnings: NSFW / MDNI, Size kink, stomach bulge, face sitting(f!receiving), Cunnalingus, Cumswaping maybe?, Spit, he’s a messy eater you can’t tell me otherwise, beach sex, Jealous!Rotxo, he’s just so sweet and pretty, Unprotected, love taps on your butt, “girl” is used, it’s pretty soft for the most part, he’s obsessed and def a simp

na’vi glossary: sayrìp : handsome, skxawng : moron, tsyeym : treasure / precious

Playfully scrapping had become increasingly popular amongst your friend group since you had been introduced to each other's cultures all those years ago. It was commonplace to play amongst yourselves. Just earlier in the evening you and Ao’nung had just almost spoiled your dinner by shoving each other's faces into the sand after a slap-boxing horseplay over some crustacean turned into a rather enthralling spar that had both of your fathers rooting for and coaching from an imagined sideline (and mothers who were doing more yelling and hooting in excitement then offering tactical advice).

Rotxo had even watched in amusement as it seemed Ao’nung had succeeded in neutralizing you with a knee on your back. Unfortunately, Ao’nung had been a fool and got off of you to turn to his father with a grin. It took you only seconds for you to contort yourself into a crouch and launch yourself into the back of his legs sending him forward onto his knees. His shock gave you enough time to maneuver both of your palms onto the back of his head and dramatically push his face right down into the sand,

“That is for punching me,”

And Rotxo couldn’t help the pang of jealousy at the fact that your pretty thighs straddle his best friend's back. Or the fact that jealousy grew into a painful lump in his throat when Ao’nungs arm hooks behind him to support your frame as he almost barrel rolls half onto his back to pin your thigh under his body and halt your assault with a laugh.

All your family and friends are laughing at the two of you, and your mothers coo as they watch you wipe sand off of Ao’nungs face. Rotxo couldn’t stop the bitter resentment that bubbled in his chest at the sight. He hated feeling this way. He hated the way you made him feel not quite like himself.

Which is why he does his very best at keeping it hidden. Not that it’s hard for him to forget the resentment he feels for you the second you give him your attention. Even only hours after the disgusting display of affection with his best friend. When you kindly ask him to accompany you on a walk he can’t even think about how upset he had been. Even now while your chiding voice disrupts the peacefulness of your walk and the beauty of the light beginning to set over the reef.

“You’re mad because I will not spar with you?”

He cuts off your words. The duck of the young warrior's head, so he could speak to you face to face as you walked down the beach only insults you more. Had he been on the side closest to the soft waves you’d have no doubt shoved him onto his ass into the assaulting water. Obviously that is what you were angry about-

“Is it because I cheat when I fight Ao’nung? If he is so stupid as to keep turning his back on me after all this time then he is at fault,”

You sound genuinely confused as you try desperately to make sense of why Rotxo would rough house with Lo’ak or Neteyam and even Kiri but not you. It’s funny how conceited you sound even as you’re practically bouncing next to him and pestering him like a bug. Rotxo knew a little better than most though regarding the inner workings of your mind. It wasn’t that you were conceited- you were just stupidly confident. He didn’t doubt, however, that one way or another your small frame would beat him simply because he knew you wouldn’t dare give up until you did.

“Besides the fact that I vividly remember when you bit Tinangey in the cheek,” Rotxo try’s to defend his unwillingness to hit you with an annunciation to his story by holding two of his second knuckles to the apex of your cobalt cheek. Long, thick fingers curled against your glowy skin. The same place you had bitten the longed-haired, round-faced, barely tolerable boy all those years ago when you fought. Though in your defense Ao’nung and the group of boys had started a very real fight, and you had only followed in your brother's shadow of retribution.

“And I happen to hit much harder than Ao’nung does,” he adds.

For a second, Rotxo feels like he exudes your same confidence. It’s not an unwarranted comment, however. Ao’nung was less than a head taller than him, but Rotxo had grown into quite an impressive specimen. Wide and as immovable as the waves that crashed outside of the reef you do not venture past. That was more than half the reason why you wanted to spar with the Talioang of a man so terribly.

“You are no fun,”

He can’t help but frown at your words. He knows you aren’t serious- would you spend as much time with him if you did not find entertainment in him? The same insecurity that causes resentment to bubble in his stomach rears its ugly head once more. For a second he feels like he could believe that you had been aware of how he felt and that you used him for validation.

“You should be more thankful to me,” he chides, baring his fangs slightly in a half grinned snarl, “that I refuse to knock any more brain cells out of you,”

You complain he doesn’t horseplay with you the way the others do, but at this moment he organically wraps one palm around the back of your head to pull you into him slightly, so he could cruelly rub his knuckles against the crown of your head.

Because he does roughhouse with you. Rotxo always played with you. Was always there to entertain you because the idea of other men wrapping their hands around the pliable flesh of your flowing form made the ugliest parts of him surface. If it wasn’t Rotxo entertaining you it was your siblings or his best friend. As he had not made any formal claim towards you out of his nerves, unfortunately, had to tolerate it regarding his future Olo'eyktan.

You’re just a terrible little cretin that found delight in the chaos you left in your wake. It’s why you, Lo’ak, and Kiri get into so much trouble. It’s why you poked at Ao’nung. He can swear there’s a part of you that does it just to cause strife in his heart.

He can’t be bothered with pondering over the legitimacy of his accusation partially out of fear that he’s projecting, and perhaps you are just like Ao’nung. Though mostly it’s because of course you are swatting your delicate little hand at him and grumbling about how you’re smarter than him and that he was the stupid one to think otherwise.

It’s endearing how you walk backward as the two of you playfully bicker and fight. Though like always- Rotxo is catching your intended slaps and redirecting your arms to swoop past him. Sometimes even grabbing at your forearms so you can’t help but be pulled around haphazardly by him.

“You are so fucking annoying,”

Your shriek comes as Rotxo almost effortlessly maneuvered you to spin forward and walk ahead of him, while he pinned your arms across your chest. You both stumble over each other's feet as you can’t help but laugh over the fact that he’s made your arms an effective straight jacket. You wiggle and writhe and it halts his walking while you try to dig your heel into the top of his foot. It only results in one of your wrists being let go of and you being spun around like a toy by him.

He had half let you stumble while he used the momentum of your arms to spin you, but he was quick to grab hold of your other wrist, propping you right up.

You were out of breath from the game but you were thankful for the view he presented you with. The violets and oranges of sunset suited the aquamarine of his skin. Dancing between the intricate tidal markings on his body, and forcing your eyes to dance across the defined arms, chest, and neck that were covered in bold black lines. You feel a little silly, being so flustered before him with your whole face purpled. You can help it because he looks pretty at the moment. Absolutely beautiful like always. Like no one you had ever seen before.

Rotxo is quick to heave you up in the air and shake you around. Ruining the view that had just begun to calm you down. Riling you into hysteric laughter while playing with you as if you weighed nothing. You shake in his arms and toss your body around like a mad-woman and you’re cackling just like one.

When he begins to feel merciful you land on your feet, with his arms still pining your hands and arms against your ribs that are rapidly rising and falling. With the welcomed breaths you instantly go back to chastising him.

“That is not sparring, fish-boy! You were just being an imbecile.”

You’re snapping an arm fee so you can poke him in the chest. He can’t help but roll his eyes at your attempt and take your hand to lightly ‘smack’ your face with it.

“You are ridiculous,”

He tried to emphasize his words with a similar assault by your other hand but you offered resistance,

“If you just took me seriously I-“ you’re cut off as you struggle to keep him from playfully making you hit yourself. Thrashing your head around wildly. And he’s just laughing above you because he thinks it’s stupid that you assume he just thinks you can’t fight and that’s why he won’t spar with you. For Eywas sake he watches you win regularly.

It’s like you could read his mind without tsaheylu and the mention of your victories emboldened you. He hadn’t even noticed your leg raise to wrap around his locked knee leisurely supporting his weight while he tormented you.

He had buckled backward under the weight of his massive frame embarrassingly quickly. You had expected him to let go of your wrists as he fell, but he did not. Opting to drag you down into the sand with him.

He tries to control the mauve that dances across his skin but this is the reason he didn’t spar with you. He can tell himself it’s because he hates seeing you get hit, and that his heart breaks and chokes him any time he thinks about striking you even in that situation.

He knows however, it’s because he can’t be this close to you. He can already feel his ears perking up towards you and his eyes relaxing while he stares up at you. How pretty. Your sapphire skin was dazzling under the cool violets and dwindling oranges of an almost completely set sun. The stars had even begun to twinkle behind you between the other shining moons.

“You are the worst,” your pants finally die down, to match your soft glare,

“Is that so?” His cheeks dimple as he grins wildly up at you as you adjust to straddle his chest more comfortably.

“Yes. I swing at you and you don’t even try to hit me back.”

And there’s another attitude laced plop to his chest. More follow as you use said pops to enunciate your following words,

“You just toss me around like I am useless and cannot fight! You know I can. Yet you only fight my brothers, how are you meant to get better if you don’t-“

He stops listening to your scoldings. He doesn’t care what you’re saying when his heart beats against your inner thighs. When he can feel the pudge of your hips practically pooling on him begging for him to grab at it. Why couldn’t you connect the dots? Why were you so stupid? He can’t help but laugh at you, there’s even a bit of a bitter snide behind it. Even though he thinks it’s endearing how badly you wanted to prove yourself to him. He cuts you off abruptly,

“Go and fight with Ao’nung,”

And it’s got your pretty siren eyes widening at his words.

“What does he have to do with anything,”

The sight of his sea-foam eyes rolling into the back of his head has your snarl fixed down at him,

“Can’t step on the Olo'eyktan’s toes can I? Huh?”

He has an expression you’ve never seen cross his face before. Not on Rotxo’s. Not the sweet boy who you had spent so much time with,

“What are you talking about, Ro?”

Ro. You dare call him Ro at a time like this. It makes him sit up on in elbow, grabbing at the top of your now elevated thigh,

“What do you mean what am I talking about? Why do you need to spar with me when you can practice with him? Unless it’s just some weird mating thing you guys have going on-”

He’s never seen your face screw up quite like it is now. Red-faced at his accusation not out of embarrassment but out of anger. Angry that he’d made such a brazen accusation. The first outbreak from Rotxo leaves you stumbling over how to answer him, and you notice he looks hurt at your stunned silence.

“Yeah, ‘course that’s what it is. You make it quite obvious-“ and you feel him start to move under you- probably to get up and apologize and tell you you had to walk back to the village now because even with the hurt salted embarrassment he feels now he’d never leave you to walk back alone. Never let you be in danger. You know that and it makes you more upset,

“Don’t tell me what I do and don’t make it obvious. I am not your fucking ilu- you do not know what I’m thinking.”

Your left hand reaches for the wrist of the hand that holds your thigh while your right pointer and middle fingers aim down at him accusingly.

“So you have no interest in him?”

Rotxo is speaking faster than usual. A trait you had noticed followed Rotxo anytime he was too hyped up. He was the softest boy you had ever known yet the gentle buzz of adrenaline that leaked out of his too-quick breaths reminded you that he was in fact a Metkayina warrior.

“Mhmm,”

You’re honestly surprised it has taken you this long to notice the mutual affection he had harbored for you. Blinded by your insecurities, the sight of him frantic over the idea of your affection belonging to someone else made you squirm.

“I suppose he would be a fine mate now that you mention it-” and you smile down at him, hoping he knows you’re kidding. That you just don’t know how to talk about your feelings “considering no one else seems to be all that interested in me,”

And you feel him go ridged under you, round eyes fixated on your own. You think he’s annoyed a little bit, staring dumbfounded at you. But you feel his fingers dig into the meat of your thigh.

“Was this your plan? Torment me into doing what you want?”

You don’t know if it’s the chill of the eclipses sea breeze or the fact that Rotxo’s voice was as modulated, deep, and mesmerizing as always, yet his face held the same intense stare that the Metkayina warriors were renowned for. You’re embarrassed at the way you twitch as he props both hands on your thighs and adjusts himself back into laying straight back.

“Nu-uh, but is it working?” And you're purring above him, flicking your tail across his stomach. It only added to the overstimulated feeling throbbing at the front of Rotxo’s skull. An uncomfortable pendulum swinging him between ecstasy at the sight of your pretty form sat on his chest and misery over the fact that he still couldn’t shake the insecurity that you were toying with him.

“No-“ He curses a crack in his voice with a swallow, “I will just stay tormented,”

His hands are warm as they paw at the top of your thighs. He can’t help but feel like he’s on fire at your position, at least the sand was starting to cool in the dark. It helped keep him from sweating below you even as he pants at the sight above him. Your knees are pushed under his arms and nestled against his ribs and he worries you can feel his heart pounding. You made the air hang hot around his head.

You’re nervous at how intense his dusk sullen aqua eyes maintain their contact with you but he doesn’t have a choice- if you scooted up less than a foot you’d be sat right on his face- there’s nothing he’s ever wanted more.

“Lost in thought?”

He cringes at your voice. Not knowing how you always get him like this. How you always have the high ground. He doesn’t know why he’s honest with you,

“I do not want you to fight with Ao’nung like that anymore.”

And you grin at him and place your palm on his cheek,

“Is that so? That means you will spar with me now?”

He couldn’t wrap his head around your obsession with being hurt? Did you pester everyone to fight with you like this? The thought makes his body move on reflex, craning his neck enough to open his mouth wide and comp down onto the exposed skin of your thigh. You bounce on his chest, pulling at his hair back with a whine in response.

“If you are jealous you can just say so you do not have to bite me, you child.”

He can only smile because it’s his hair you’re yanking at. You’re sitting on him and-

“I’m not jealous. Not in this moment anyways,”

One of his hands slides up your hunched forward torso, and he’s pulling you down by the woven fabric of your top. You’re not sure if he’s pulling you down to kiss him. You figure with the state of things though a kiss wasn’t an unwelcome advance, and you’re not surprised when his head lifts to kiss you back.

It’s better than any silly fantasy you had ever let yourself drift into because he’s warm and real and he’s kissing you like you’re fragile because he wants you to feel safe enough to be fragile. He wouldn’t have wasted so much time becoming a competent warrior if it wasn’t to keep you safe.

“How could you think I’d want to share a brain with Ao’nung huh? I’d kill myself.” you smile against his lips, “as if I’d ever want him over you,”

And he knows you’re not lying to him as the fluff of your tail tickles against a throbbing vein in his lower stomach. How could you be lying when you’re hunched over uncomfortably while you straddle him just so you could purr into a kiss? His big hands cradling your cheeks makes you ignore the ache in your spine, and you thank Eywa he’s so big as to add ease to the position.

By some stroke of luck, his hand travels down your spine as if to soothe the ache while your tongues swirled against each other. Despite the trembling ache that plagued your lower stomach at the endearing turn of events, Rotxo kisses you, softly. As if you’re not dying for him. Even though you straddle him his chest and move against him to relieve the pressure he inflicts on you. You’re very obviously making out with him. Willingly letting his mouth explore yours at his own pace. You can’t help but slide down his torso so you could lay on top of him properly.

You couldn’t get over how wide you still had to spread your legs to straddle his waist. Even though you laid over him caging his body under yours he engulfed you. You need to breathe far earlier than he does, and he finds it cute how you huff against his lips to catch your breath.

“You’re not going to let Ao’nung touch you anymore, ya?”

And he can’t help the dopey pitch of his voice as he catches your lips in a quick kiss. Not when you’re beaming down at him.

“Only if you touch me instead,”

You sound so coy considering you’re giggling above him. And when you enunciate your words with another kiss he can’t help the obnoxious chortle that leaves his lips- that’s until you bite at his bottom lip slightly,

“You are too bossy,”

But he kisses you the way you want him to. Pushing his nose against yours. He doesn’t think he can like anything more until he feels your hips grind against the lower abs of his stomach- that tighten and flex at the feeling of your now twitching core.

The confidence the both of you had mutually worked up to had you lost in your own world. You know it’s unbecoming of you both to be caught in such a situation but you had enough confidence in your privacy and even less confidence in your own self-control to do anything about it.

“Sit on my face,” it comes out as a gaspy whisper between your clanking teeth while you grind against him, “Let me take care of you instead,”

It makes you whimper above him and he swears it’s some sort of nirvana.

“I-I’ve never-” and you are mad at how wet the inside of your mouth is and yet it still offers no solace to the lump in your throat

“No’ gonna make you,”

You’re not sure if the sound of him slurring into your mouth makes you moan or the fact that your tail finds and runs across his erect member behind you.

“Obviously want you to,” and his palm is on your cheek, “wanted you on my mouth since you plopped down on me,”

He’s kissing you between his words and you know he means it. You can hear it in his voice. He just about died of excitement when he felt you propping yourself up on your knees.

Now that you’re back up he can admire your pretty body once again. He thinks this is the first time he’s ever seen you not take the lead. It made him blush- realizing how shy you had suddenly become. He’s gentle when he reaches for your thigh again, sliding up until his fingers reach the fabric of your tweng,

“Can I?”

You wondered how the sun would rise in the morning when it was trapped in his smile. Looking up at you as if you were Eywa herself. How could he possibly think you don’t want him to untie it?

You don’t know how to say yes without embarrassing yourself, so you do what any rational woman would do when the love of their life was laid between their legs. You reach up to the fabric tie of your beaded top, and let it fall from your body, plopping down in the sand next to you.

You can’t ignore the throb that plagues you at the widening of his eyes, how they instantly drop to your breasts. The only cover from his eyes are the few strands of hair.

You’re almost shocked at his fumbling fingers. Too excited to uncover you and too large for the delicate fabric, yet like all things that required a gentle hand- Rotxo succeeded at his task quickly. Obediently you let his palms guide your hips up. He is rewarded with one more sway of your tail over his quickly hardening length as tosses your bottoms in the opposite direction of your top.

You're breathing heavily when he cranes his neck to look at your most intimate flesh,

“Oh, Eywa,”

He can feel himself leaking all over his stomach at the sight of your bare cunt against his torso, and the warm feeling of you dripping could drive him to madness.

“C’mere, give me you.”

You listen of course. He feels bad that he likes you best like this. Tentatively crawling up his large chest to place your legs on the side of his head.

He doesn’t feel bad for enjoying the view of you hovering above his face. He can’t believe he had done this. He can’t believe you’re swollen, sticky, and wet for him.

His hands are wrapping around the fat of your thighs to pull you into open-mouthed kisses against your thighs. You’re mad it feels so good- he’s not even touched you and yet your thighs twitch where he kisses.

You reward him with a real moan at the quick swipe of his tongue from the bottom of your leaking hole right across your clit. Though he didn’t truly know what he was doing, he knew what he wanted to do. That was enough. You seemed to like what he was doing regardless. He likes kissing you. Feeling the way your lips twitch against his. His tongue finds a comfortable rhythm exploring your folds. You tasted like nothing he had ever eaten before. He couldn’t compare you to anything else- and there wasn’t a thing in Pandora he’d rather in his mouth.

Though you're panting and wiggling your hips in front of his face he still wants to give you more. Wants to wrap his arms around your thighs and take care of you the way you should be taken care of. He doesn’t know why he has such a need to take care of you, especially since you had caused him so much grief. He knows you’re more than willing and capable of handling him mating you without any of this - but he can’t help it. He wants to spoon-feed the world to you; do everything for you. Even if it means doing all the work to get that pretty pussy of yours to cum in his mouth.

His desire to take care of you is probably why one of his big hands finds your hips. Why it slides across your smooth skin and his thumb hooks under your tail to push you down and forward onto his wanting mouth.

“I said sit-” he speaks into your cunt, the vibrations of his voice making you clench your stomach.

He can feel his dick jump at the way you cry at the feeling of him grinding your sensitive pussy against his wanting mouth, legs clamping down against his blood-rushed ears. When he finally slides his tongue into your twitching hole again he can’t help but reach down to squeeze at the base of his throbbing dick. Just for a second, he could pretend you were clamping down on his cock and not his rapidly exploring tongue. You’re too busy following along with the motion Rotxo’s hand around your tail provides for you to notice what he’s doing, however. When you’re so blissed out that you lean back to brace your hands onto his chest he can’t help but take in the sight of your thrown-back head. Your hair was behind you now and he could watch the night sky illuminate the swell of your breasts. He can’t be bothered to feel bad at watching you so vulnerable and unaware when he’s the one to cause it.

With the added space of you leaning off of him slightly, he was able to drag his face across your leaking cunt as if he were a starved animal ripping into a meal.

You feel dirty- for the way your head quickly snaps forwards to watch the way he shakes his head back and forth between your legs. There’s no hiding the mess below you at this point. The twinkling night does little to hide the slick connecting you to him. And you feel yourself leak even worse when his relaxed eyes blink open and he catches you staring at him. When he slows his movements to take in the look on your face.

“Ro- don’t- Rotxo-“

Embarrassment is evident in your voice despite the fact he feels like his face is burning brighter than yours. He can’t seem to wrap his head around the fact that you’re sitting on his face, you’re letting him eat you out.

He wraps his lips around his new favorite part of your body, sucking the nerve into his mouth with a cruel pop. Kissing it after you cry out,

“You feelin' good?”

His words are soft, as you feel his thumb caress the underside of your tail. You only try to sit back down on his face with a wiggle of your hips. Rotxo has finally found a happy middle ground where he felt confident with you, however. Gripping your tail tighter to keep your greedy cunt off of his face.

“Answer me,”

And with his words comes a gentle graze of his sharp teeth against the pulsating sticky skin of your clit. He’s never heard you make the noise that responds to his assault. A cry or a hiss he wouldn’t know- but it was his new favorite sound. He’s only licking you- it’s only at the work of his tongue that your legs are shaking so prettily on his cheeks.

“Yes- yes you know I am-“ You start, “can you keep going now?”

It’s the fake polite voice you use that makes him scoff. He finds it endearing how badly you try to grind yourself against him in the same rhythm he had previously helped you with. But with his grip on your tail, and the punishingly slow strokes of his tongue against your slit you stayed bubbling on the edge. You’ve never been so pliable for anyone before, he thinks. He’s never seen you so whiney over anything.

“Rotxo please!”

Your please is a little too mean. It wasn’t you asking him to make you feel good. You were being bossy and rude. Red face screwed up in frustration as if you had still been scolding him for the fact he wouldn’t hit you. Maybe it’s why his other hand leaves your hip for a second to swat at the fat of your ass.

Between you sidling forward onto his face, and the fact that your pretty little tail wagged across his painfully hardened cock he couldn’t help but moan right into you.

The guttural moan of his deep voice sends a shock wave up your body that has one hand digging into the sand next to his head and the other hand pulling at the mess of curls on top of his head. Maybe he understood your annoyance at his stubborn desire to hold back before. Because right now you are doing the same.

All he wanted was for you to cum. So one hand returned to your pretty tail to help you grind your clit against his face. It was cute how you tensed at the feeling of the tip of his fingers that had risen up against the hole that so willingly leaked all over him. You don’t even give him a chance to ask if you’re okay with it before you sink back into his fingers, ruining the kiss Rotxo had just begun assaulting your clit with.

The sight of spit connecting his swollen lips to your cunt, and the feeling of one of his finger reaching deeper in you than you had ever been able to touch makes you tremble above him. He’s rocking you against his face while he begins an almost punishing assault on your hole.

In his defense, he wasn’t truly aware of how punishing the pace was. The only thing he was focused on was the steady ripple of your ass against his knuckles. So blissfully unaware of how much louder your voice had gotten. The wet sound he was greeted with as he slid a second finger inside you only spurred the speed of his hand more.

“I- I… Ro I feel-”

And he feels the tip of your tail softly lay across his aching cock as though to anchor yourself as you arch forward into his face, thighs trembling. He moans at the ache of his scalp as you pull him into you and he can’t help but open his eyes wide.

Eywa is Rotxo glad he did. He knows he’s going to remember this for the rest of his life- the view of your pretty legs choking him in a vice grip and pussy clenching up on his fingers while you practically scream. You don’t listen to yourself though, not when you’re preoccupied with the sound of him slurping against you. As if he’s never enjoyed something more- and he’s smiling against you as he alternates, scraping his teeth against you, and sloppily kissing you though your orgasm. All while his fingers still slowly curl inside of you.

You feel like you should be embarrassed, panting above him- trying to force oxygen into your deprived lungs and brain. He doesn’t make you feel awkward though. Not even for a second. Not while he’s petting your thigh and smiling up at you between his movements.

“You’re alright?”

The hum of his voice was questioning. You couldn’t help that part of you felt as though he was telling you that you were alright though. Maybe that’s why you felt so at ease.

“Better than alright,”

Your coquettish grin has him pawing at your thighs to scoot you back down off of him. Even though he’s never enjoyed doing something more than taking care of you, the feeling of your tail twitching against the tip of his throbbing cock had raised an unfamiliar pain in his stomach. Besides, the sinful sounds you had been making for him; the pretty dazed face had coaxed you into had made him confident enough to not want to be under you any longer.

You instinctually wrap your arms around his neck as you feel him begin to sit himself up. One arm wrapped tightly under your ass (giving himself the luxury of wrapping one of his meaty palms around the meatier fat of your ass) to keep you from sliding down into his lap until he had sat up completely, and could position you comfortably.

You can’t help but smile at how disheveled he looks. His hair is all askew from you yanking at it and his face is completely blushed and wet from all the effort. The way the corners of his lips twitch into a smile by the time your bare slit makes contact with him is almost mischievous in a way. As if he was expecting the gasp that falls from your lips as he drags you down across the tweng that painfully constricts the parts of him that hadn’t hardened out of it. It finally relieves some of the pressure knotting at the pit of his stomach. You could never wrap your mind around how sitting on his lap could be so calming yet intimidating. You can’t help but reach for the sand covered curls at the back of his head pulling desperately to fill the gap the height difference caused. Wanting nothing more than for him to bless you with another kiss.

Of course, he obliges. He doesn’t think he could ever deny you a single thing now. Not when you’re grinding down onto him while kissing him. Dragging the fabric across the both of you, and Eywa when you run your tongue across his lips with a giggle he has to stop himself from cumming between the both of you.

Feeling the way his tip leaks against your belly button has your heart beating so impossibly fast that the rattling it causes in your rib cage hurts.

“We do not have to do anything else,”

He doesn’t want to remind you. He really does not. He wants nothing more than to sink you down onto him- but he doesn’t want you to feel pressured. To feel unsafe. If you had never touched him again he’d have lived happily with this moment like gold in his memory. He thanks Eywa however, when you whine at the insinuation, thread your fingers around his kuru, and your pretty snarl makes contact with his own teeth.

“Don’t make me go and find Ao’nu-”

You don’t even finish your hiss before he swats at your ass again, appreciating the way your skin recoils, and thighs tremble at his sides and for you to yelp into him. How dare you say his name with your hand where it was? Has he been too nice to you these years? Too gentle with you?

“Watch it,”

You had heard Rotxo growl before. Never at you- but you had seen what he was capable of when he did get aggressive with people. Yes, he was a sweet and gentle boy- but he was also rowdy, brawling, and all too bellicose. But because he was normally so saccharine to you, you had forgotten all about the rest of Rotxo. Big, honorable, and strong Rotxo who you had seen slam down elder warriors with years of experience on him like they were weightless. Those same muscular, intricately tattooed arms were now using the fat of your hips and ass to grind you down against him. As if to make up for the cruelty of your words your other hand reaches down, and though you had frustrated him he can’t help but buck his hips into you at the feeling of your hand sliding down the hood of his cock so you could run a thumb across his exposed tip.

“I want you. I thought I was being pretty obvious. Reya makes fun of me for it.”

You don’t know why you whisper to him, you don’t think you had ever been as soft-spoken before.

“I am just stupid-”

And his frustrations leave him at the feeling of your hands loosening around both his hand and kuru. He can’t help but slide his face against yours, slotting his nose against yours. He breaths against your face once before he speaks,

“You are not a stupid girl,” and there’s a kiss placed on your cheek under your eye as one palm raises to cradle the opposite one, “you are at least smart enough to undo a knot, yeah?”

He keeps his usual warm and syrupy baritone voice, yet there’s a condescending undertone to his voice that shoots straight down to your core. It makes your ears flatten against your head, and your eyes widen. He was almost bitter that all it took to intimidate you was to imply he wanted to impale you on his cock. Why did he waste all this time becoming such a revered deep-sea diver and warrior?

“Or are you, pretty girl?”

There’s more jest in his voice; his heart swelling at how cute you were when you weren’t being a menace. So cute in fact that he can’t help but kiss the crown of your head as he watches both of your hands reach down to untie his tweng. He supposes he could have just yanked it down, but he can’t help the rush that flows through him at the sight of you doing it. He swears he’ll ride this high for months- felt like he could fight a nalutsa all by himself.

That’s until he sees you sit up on his knees and realize what you’re going to do- what you want to do. It finally sinks in for him. You want him. Your fingers are on his kuru, your cums on his face- you chose him. Suddenly the sea breeze isn’t enough to keep him from overheating. He’s too aware of the sound of the waves and the sand that covers his back and hair and the fact that-

“Sayrìp,”

His eyes instantly leave your swollen pussy and raise to your face, locking with your eyes obediently. You smile up at him and he’s sure his pupils are as wide as yours.

“Are you okay?”

How can he not be okay when you're kissing his mandible? Teeth teasing against the pulse you’ve risen should drive him to dizzying madness but only acts to ground him back into reality,

“Jus’ cannot believe you’re here with me.”

It gives him a chance to swallow the lump in his throat,

“Who else would I be with, skxawng?”

And you're grasping at the base of him to hold his heavy leaning cock steady; he whines at the sight of your spit drooling past your pretty lips and hisses at the feeling of it plopping against him. He supposes you could use all the help you could get if you hoped to take him.

As you slide the girthy blunt tip against your slit he rewards you with a moan. A deep sound that reverberates against his chest. It makes you all too eager to try and sink down onto the tip.

But Rotxo’s arms are stronger than you and he doesn't want you to do that, so he uses that strength against you. Despite being so giving and nice on the regular, rolling over and letting you boss him around and do what you wanted he was going to mate you the way he wanted to, and you were going to take it.

When the jolt of his hands moving to hold your hips in place makes your pussy flutter against his tip he has to remind himself of that before he loses all of his resolve and pushes you down onto his length in one swift movement. The thought made him cringe. He didn’t waste all this time opening you up for him just to hurt you,

“You going to let me mate you, tsyeym?” He asks

If you think you could roll your eyes without invoking the hunter's wrath you would have. He was acting as though you hadn’t been pulling and tugging on his prettily kept braid since you had first felt his imposing length against you.

“I am not above begging,”

Though you’re chuckling softly in his ear your fingers are dancing down his kuru, and when your finally twirl the ends of his hair covering his tswin around your slender fingers he can’t help but slide just the first couple of inches of him into you. He can’t tell if he feels your fingers caressing his nerves more or the far too-tight ring of your pussy sucking him into you.

“Ma’Rotxo-”

Your free hand braces yourself down on his bicep, digging your fingernails into his flesh as if you’re the one overstimulated.

“Thought you were tough, huh?” He chides, “Wanna fight with me but can’t even take me bullyin’ my cock into ya, huh?”

If you were mean you would have tugged on his braid, giving him a semblance of the perineum sting you felt at the girth of him-

“Don’t be an asshole to me, Rotxo.”

You’re trying to be bossy still and it doesn’t suit the fact that your body feels so pliable in his hands. He doesn’t even dignify you with an answer, not when he wants you to be flush against his hips. Not when he wanted you to feel as much of him as you could before he made you feel even more. He feels a little bad that you’re so small in comparison to the Metkayina people. Though an embarrassing part of him loves the idea of spending the rest of his life drilling into your warmth until you’re molded to him he worries about how sore you’d be in the morning. He promises himself that he’d be extra kind to you tomorrow- tend to anything you could want. He will take care of you as a thank you for the way you were about to let him use you.

You couldn’t think of a time when Rotxo hadn’t taken care of you- this felt no different. So when you feel one of his hands caress you on the mission to reach around your body and pull you apart further so that more of him could slide inside all you do is huff and give into his guidance.

“Look at you,”

He sounds winded at the feeling of you clenching against him. You’re surprised he enters as easily as he does. Surprised the pressure doesn’t hurt as bad as you feared it would. Especially when one of his thumbs moves over your clit in soft quick motions,

“Just gotta relax a lil’ more.”

His eyes are fixed down; watching you take him inside of you. He doesn’t even care anymore that the end of his braid is held in your soft hand. He ignores the uncomfortable throb that shoots through it. He only has to endure seconds more of it before he’s rewarded with the slippery plap of your hips meeting. He feels bigger than ever when your hands leave their respected body parts to grab at his cheeks. He’s sure you meant to kiss him but you only managed to moan against his open mouth.

“That’s my girl,” he kisses you, “Took it all so good.” another kiss,

“Fucking Metkayina- too big,” Of course, you’re grumbling right now. Of course, you have a grumpy little voice even when he’s in your guts.

“You are rude,” one of his arms wrapped around you and pulled you flush against him, partially to appreciate your warmth but mostly so he could reach around and grab your own braid.

“Shouldn’t even touch this now, huh?”

His soft eyes give him away, and he knows you know him too well. You know that once you pull his braid over his shoulder that he’d rush to bring yours closer.

You were right of course, he’s quick to hold the bioluminescence of your tswin’s tendrils painfully close to his own. There’s something that makes your stomach tighten painfully at the sight. There was something so exciting about the fact that you were so close to being with him- all you had to do was dip your hand forward. The thought has you rolling your hips down against him to alleviate the throb of your clitoris. It’s all he needs before his other hand leaves your hip to grab your wrist that holds his tswin.

“Look at me,”

You’re so good for him. So obedient when your eyes instantly snap from where your hands almost make you one- to his eyes. He thinks you’re so beautiful. Sultry and warm and so undeniably wild. So easily he gives into the magnetic force that’s been trying to convince him to pull your tswin into his.

He thinks his heart stops at the way your eyes haze over and you melt into him. The way you practically purr as he feels his lap grow wetter. Now you were all of those things- but you were also his.

“Oh, Eywa,”

He feels bad for how roughly his one arm pulls you into him, he feels how much fuller it makes you feel but he has to feel your heartbeat against him. He thinks this is bliss- that he can’t get anything better than this. Then you begin scooting your hips back and forth against his. His hands are too quick to reach for your hair, digging his fingers into it.

The pretty way your face screws up as your pace quickens has him star-struck. The echo of your pleasure tickled his lower stomach. He can’t help but lift his hips to meet yours; the slapping sound of skin as you bounced against him is enough to spur him into near madness. Both of your throats are caught- stunned in silence over the sheer amount of feeling tsaheylu adds.

He feels bad because he knows you feel so good going at your own pace and using him to fill yourself to your heart's content. He can’t focus on that guilt when he has such an uncontrolled need to be on top of you. His hands halting your hips have you confused, and you’re only more shocked when he’s heaving you up and tossing the both of you until your back is against the sand and your hips are hiked on his firm thighs.

He doesn’t even give you a second to take in the change, slipping himself all the way into you in one fluid movement, palms returning to the fat of your hips so he could roll and grind down into you. He loves the way you clench as he rolls across your g-spot. The view is beautiful, and the way your hands reach between your thighs and rub your fingers against yourself for him only drives him further into ecstasy.

“So pretty for me,” He loves how easy it is to make you clench and throb. “My pretty mate,”

His eyes are fixed on the way your breasts bounce at the power of his thrusts and the way your stomach bulges. He knows if he focuses on your pretty face he’d be finished the way your wide eyes don’t focus on anything and the dark purple stain of your blush. He’s never quite seen your markings glow so bright. He’d never live down finishing before he even got a chance to fuck you properly- before he could really appreciate the view. So he grabs at your hips and wiggles you side to side in an effort to stimulate you further,

“Let me fuck you for real now baby,” and his hand travels up your legs that are bent against your bodies, straightening one leg over his shoulder so he could kiss your calf. How could you say no when he asks so sweetly while he was so deep inside of you?

“Please? Can you please move again?”

He forgot you could be so polite when you want to be. He’s all smiles, starting at a comfortable pace. His speed picked up quickly as he could use your whole leg as an anchor, but he still stays relatively shallow. Just to give you enough time to adjust before he picks up a punishing pace.

He knows he’s fucking you entirely too loud. He knows the way you moan under him is entirely too loud. He knows the nighttime waves aren’t loud enough to drown out what he’s doing to you but all it does is spur him on. He wishes you’d be louder but he knows you have more dignity than he does.

How can he slow down when you’re telling him he’s so good? You’re gasping as he falls forward onto one hand for more leverage. Still holding your hips up by one leg so he could slam into you. The change of position has you dragging sinfully across him and it almost distracts you from the sound of his grunts. It was magnifying seeing him worked up over you- he wasn’t even in a rut and had desired you so deeply.

“Gon- Shit. Roxto 'm gonna cum,”

The way he reacted to your words is what sends you over the edge. The way he hunches over and begins to slam into you while his eyes bore into yours. The sloppy sound of you cumming all over him and your eyes rolling into you head bring him closer more than the feeling of you clamping down on his cock. He didn’t think you could squeeze tighter and it’s embarrassing how easy you make him cum. Just barely enough time to slip out and shoot himself all over you.

He means to hit your stomach honestly, expecting it to pool where you had been slightly folded. Except he had forgotten how worked up you had gotten him- how badly he had wanted to cum in you. The sheer amount that painted your warm stomach and azure boobs should have embarrassed him but the sight of his cum shooting further and globbing on your chin and lips consumes him. You lay half folded under him, grasping onto him while you panted. Covered in his cum. No one could get near you without knowing you were his.

He can’t help but act on his desires and lean down to cage his big arms around you. Running his tongue up your chin and across your lips. You taste the salt on his lips when he immediately kisses you, and at the bite of his teeth, you’re opening your mouth so he can spit him into your mouth.

It should be raunchy and make you feel like a whore but he does it so softly and kisses you so libidinously that the swirl of his tongue against yours has you both purring into each other's mouth.

You’re perplexed at how quickly he’s back to sweet Rotxo. Kissing you gently and caressing skin that just knew the punishing grip of his strength.

He’s tall when he sits up on his knees, and now that he’s not hunched over rutting into you it truly dawns on you just how much bigger he is than you.

He scoffs as he looks around him and you’re almost confused until you watch him lean over to grab both of your bottoms before he’s grinning down at you and scooping his hands under you.

His cheeks hurt from smiling at the sound of you giggling foolishly at him as he heaves you into the air. You're both red-faced and covered in sweat and sand and he can’t wait to walk into the cooling water with you in his arms.

[tlkfaerie]

Ribbons ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚

pairing: Finan x reader

a/n: Response to a lovely request! My first request, actually! Finally doing a solo Finan piece :) A bit soppier than I had originally planned, but I love it and I love Finan soooooo. Also the circumstance / sequence of events aren't entirely accurately in line with the events of the show but we move.

MDNI!18+ : TW finan x reader, dom!finan, virgin!reader, virginity loss, manhandling, kissing, very brief mentions of loss, fingering, p in v sex, confessions of love, slight breeding!kink

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔ 　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　

Things were tense when the men staggered back to the stronghold. They had won their latest battle involving Mercia and Bloodhair, though at the cost of a disastrous curse upon Uhtred's family. You selfishly prayed for Finan's safety, despite the two of you not being together. You were great friends, and though the others were familiar to you too, it was Finan that you truly wished to return in one piece.

You spent your time at home praying for the souls of those who had been lost, thinking about the wise words that Hild so graciously bestowed on you. You felt her absence more than ever, needing her sweet guidance, but aware that she was already spread thin. Everyone was.

As winter crept into your home, you wallowed slightly, missing everyone. But you had a duty, an alehouse to run. It was where you had met everyone originally, and had turned into somewhat of a cornucopia for Coccham. You knew that in order to keep spirits high, you'd have to open it up and welcome everyone in. Your hearth was where you had first met Finan, sitting with Uhtred as the two of them laughed. Hild had introduced you, and your speechlessness was the source of several laughs.

You had sat with them on the table that night, laughing with Hild, who you truly saw as your aspiration. Uhtred noticed this, joking about how you reminded him of his children, which had made you huff slightly. You were embarrassed of this, but Finan assured you that you were alright, muttering some joke about how you clearly had the spirit of a warrior within you to deal with these drunken men.

It had been a slow night, but you would rejoin them when you could, smiling at Finan every now and then. Finan's eyes had scrunched up too, but his lingering look had you blushing all throughout the night. From then on, the warriors had frequented your place. You and Finan would often sit and chat. He loved that he could talk to you. For once, it was not about war, or combat, or blasted shield walls. He was sick to death of hearing the names Alfred or Edward, and you gave him peace from all of that.

It filled you with warmth to see everyone so carefree and jolly, especially as it was your father's wish when he opened the alehouse to make an honest place of it. Every now and then, a regular face would vanish, and you felt it like a sting in your core, but you carried on nevertheless.

You lived just above the alehouse, walking down the steep wooden steps as you tried to alleviate your chill. Nothing seemed to work. Lighting candles and preparing some food for the hungry travellers that would arrive soon. You had heard news that the travelling party were returning from Winchester within the next few hours, feeling sadness at the inevitable loss and pain that would be felt all through the town, but also the deep, hidden feelings of desire that you so heavily pushed to one side.

Every time you saw Finan leave, you felt a tinge of regret within you. After all, he was Uhtred's right hand man by all accounts, and great responsibilities were often given to him. What if he were to never return? You supposed it was silly to think more of your confessions being told than him returning with his life, but you were sick of pushing down these feelings. You felt like some sort of angel when his gaze fell on you, which it did, often. And when he would come in for a final glass of ale, though what you didn't know is that he was really just looking for an excuse to talk to you.

He had seemed grave when you saw him last, trying to keep smiling at you but looking away darkly every now and then. You, none the wiser, had given him a cheerful departure, promising a full meal for him and his friends upon his return. You had assured him that the plate would be waiting for him, only if he came home in one piece. The gesture was halfhearted, though to him it was a challenge. He had left beside Uhtred, meditating upon his horse about you.

You.

Finan really, really loved you. He was always incredibly outgoing, and so you assumed he would just wed someone more like him, but Finan dreamed of you almost every night. It tortured him that he was so quick with his words, and yet they seemed to disappear from him whenever he saw you. Your plump lips, your wide eyes, full of life and unsoiled by the rot of death. You were the exact opposite of what he encountered on his missions and tasks, and though he loved his life alongside his trusted Lord, he wanted something to do it all for. And that something was you. He would make sure of that.

As both of your feelings nearly spilled over each other, it was time for someone to do something.

It seemed like you had wasted your whole day, silently waiting for the evening to come, when finally, you heard some commotion - your heart sent flashes of longing through you. You felt somewhat pathetic, watching the door of your alehouse for that specific person to come through. But, when you know, you know.

Suddenly, a stream of townsfolk walked in. Some came holding hands, some even came with their children, which you didn't mind, offering them some meat pies and ruffling their hairs. You spoke with some of the women, delighted to have their husbands back and eager to get you away to spend time with them soon. You joked about being stuck behind the brewery, handing out copious pints of ale. Within the next twenty minutes, your hands were so sticky that you started flapping them furiously.

Finally, you made your way outside, wanting to do a round of everyone sitting on the benches. There, you found Finan and Osferth. Sihtric was over in the corner, with his wife, the two of them beckoning you towards them.

Giving them quick greetings, you drunk in some of the news from Sihtric, who informed you that Uhtred was still in Winchester for some time with Hild, and that he had suffered a great loss. Your head bowed at that, not wanting or needing to know any more. You wished the both of them and their children well, before granting a weak smile to the two men now before you.

Osferth gave a weak smile, fondly remembering happier times in the alehouse and wishing he could match his previous energy. You hugged him tightly, knowing he was more sensitive and newer to the trade of being a warrior, though you didn't expect him to hold on so tightly to you. You sunk into his unfamiliar embrace for a moment, before Osferth pulled away.

And there he was. Finan. You had never seen him looking more tired, slightly long hair giving him a dishevelled look. Though equally, he was beautiful. No amount of sadness could take away the kind, observant look in his eyes. He seemed to be in his own world, and you didn't want to disturb, but then he looked at you, and the faintest smile stretched onto his lips.

You wanted Finan to hold you. You wanted his warm embrace then and there, but something told you it would take a little more time. His brows are furrowed and a strong wrinkle emerges between them, telling you that he is far from relaxed. You gulp slightly, the promise of a meal still hanging in the air.

With a hand still on Osferth's shoulder, you said nothing as you gave him an empathetic nod, tilting your head and smiling as best as you could. Your chest filled with relief when his little wrinkle disappeared. The shadows lifted just slightly, and there he was. He understood you somehow, an unspoken look flittering between you, and then you were gone.

There was so much you wanted to talk to Finan about. You ached to have your friend back, even if that dynamic did pain you. He still came to the tavern, even when Uhtred returned, though he was unusually silent as weeks flew by. Even as things picked up and spirits were back to normal, Finan seemed to be stuck somehow.

You entertained mostly Uhtred and Sihtric most nights, helping them heal ever so slightly with perhaps a little too much ale. You had even begun watering it down less, which did not go unnoticed by them. You prayed with Osferth too, mostly to keep him company.

It wasn't until a whole month had passed that you could no longer take it. Finan's usual loud voice could no longer be something of the past. You needed to tell him how you felt. You knew that you had to do something tonight.

You spent far too long in the mirror during the hour before you would open. You knew it would be a busy night, as the snow had finally ceased, and people were no longer cooped up in their homes. They would want warm drink and entertainment, and you would give them just that.

"Come on, Y/N." You nudged yourself, looping two ribbons into the two braids that you had meticulously gathered with your unruly hair, pinching your cheeks before letting out a slight laugh. You hadn't realised just how much you truly valued Finan's entire personality until it changed whenever you came near. Surely freshening up a bit would impress him?

Meanwhile, as though he was mirroring you, Finan ran his hands through his hair, sitting patiently in his own company. He had been surrounded by his loud companions all day, laughing and working, enjoying any semblance of peace that he could. The Irishman thought of nothing but you, however, and felt that if he did not do something soon he would combust into a million pieces.

Truthfully, after his last visit to Mercia, he had pulled back from you slightly. He needed you so deeply, but couldn't bear the thought of making you wait around for him, worrying if he would come home or not. There was also the additional danger of his weapons everywhere, his being at Uhtred's side constantly, and the threat of having something so precious to him be so targeted. He wanted you more than he wanted to breathe.

After that first day where you had been babbling to Hild in your alehouse, he was stunned. He was in awe of how you ran the place, even with the death of your father, never allowing anyone to step on your toes, even though he would have been more than willing to help. He admired your trust in things, never fearing of the worst, unlike he had. Since his days on the ship, all he had craved was something, anything, to come home to.

Nothing had filled that space until he saw you prancing around the alehouse, clumsily spilling drinks and shaking your sticky hands in his face to annoy him, your loud laughter echoing in his mind even now as he had tried to pull you into the mess you had made.

The memory shone in his mind, so prominent that he quite literally couldn't think straight. He didn't want to be absent towards you now, but his very existence intermingling with yours was a threat to your life, and perhaps your happiness. Could he do that to you?

As the tavern bustled into life, you couldn't stop fiddling with your braids. Some of your friends had offered to touch them up, which only worried you more, but they teased you still, pinching your cheek when you had confessed to them what you were going to do tonight.

You would your hands into the handles of at least ten cups, delivering them to the table of several hefty warriors who barely fit on your stools, making a mental note to get some warrior-friendly seating arranged.

"Here you are boys," you greeted them lightly, recognising a few, particularly Uhtred, who looked like he had seen better days. His hair was loose, strewn all over his face, but a smile graced his face, which reassured you.

"You might want to slow down, Lord," you teased, anticipating his reaction. He cocked his brow, piercing blue eyes observing you graciously. "Y/N, you're too good to me. Too good." He raised a glass to you, and you playfully rolled your eyes, a renewed sense of confidence overtaking you.

As you were about to turn around, you collided with hard leathers, belonging to a very firm chest. Towering above you was Finan. You quickly fiddled with your braid, hoping he would be enticed by them. So stupid, you thought to yourself.

"Have you forgotten what incredibly handsome men look like, or are you just surprised to see me?" said Finan, voice just above a whisper. Your eyes widened at his question, hand coming up to slap his bare arms. He hadn't been this perky in a while, and it shocked you, to say the least. You were happy to see him back to normal. Though he always carried an air of dominance with him, the softer side of him was always welcome.

There was a strange determination in his eyes, as if he had woken up. "Trust me, with you in front of me every day, I could hardly forget what a handsome man looks like." Your emboldened state of mind matched his newfound confidence, and the two of you were back to being the same people that you were when you first met. Finan forgot, just for a second, about the reek of death and its hanging in the air.

Instead, he took you in. Your fresh braids, which he suspected you had done just for him. He felt so warm, even in the bitter winter, and your eyes gazing at him as though he was the kindest man on earth brought him more security than anything else in the world.

His presence alone was enormous. You had to shake your head to remember what you were really here to say to him. He had laughed at your previous remark, taking the confident proudly.

"You look so beautiful, Y/N." he stated fondly, content to spend the rest of the night with you. Your cheeks heated at his words, and you looked away, but not before his strong hands found your chin, raising your face to meet his brown eyes once more. He simply could not wait any longer.

"You always look beautiful, and I'm sorry if I've ever made you feel like you aren't", he huffed, acknowledging his own mental absence. You felt the tenderness in his touch, against the rough scarring on his hands. You smiled sadly, wishing he didn't have to be treated so roughly. Your softer hands found his, holding them tightly.

"I suppose I sh-" but before he could finish his sentence, he was interrupted by a loud crash. You were quick to inspect the commotion, not realising that the two of you were still firmly holding hands. It hadn't occurred to you until his grip tightened, dwarfing your entire hand in his. You couldn't help but smile, especially when you discovered what the scene before you was all about.

Two women were having at it, fighting like animals. These were women you knew, and so you were shocked to see them go at one another, enough even to draw blood. You considered for a moment why two familiar faces would be fighting, but the two had recently mentioned their escapades with Osferth, who was a babbling mess at the scene before him.

Finan cursed. Truly, he couldn't help but laugh. Of course, this stupid baby monk would intervene in some way, he thought to himself. You giggled at Osferth's expression as the women were finally separated by Finan, who begrudgingly let go of your hand. He felt so juvenile, clinging to you like a crush, but he simply couldn't help himself.

"Umm, I thought monks weren't allowed to hump," was all he said, before leaving the poor boy to defend for himself, returning to you. As he walked over, you felt the life reemerge within him. He was smiling so much you almost couldn't take it.

"Now that's a hero," you laughed as he spread his arms out, congratulating himself. You couldn't keep yourself from moving about, however, unable to stay still in his presence. Your mind constantly filtered through possibilities of what he was about to tell you, meanwhile your own looming confession was being stuffed further and further back in your mouth. You weren't entirely sure what he was going to say to you. Perhaps he was going to tell you to stay away from him . . .

Any suspicions of his rejection, however, were entirely forgotten when both of his hands came to cup your face. The act felt so intimate that your legs almost quivered, and you braced yourself to fall over. His head leaned back slightly, and he breathed heavily, taking you in. Finan, filled with confidence, had bee brought to his knees by you. You and your ribbon braids.

"Can we talk somewhere, please. Perhaps when it's a little less busy, lady?" you understood, but couldn't help the frustration that grew within you as your conversation was prolonged yet again. You simply nodded, but that didn't seem to be enough for him, judging by his widening eyes.

"After closing, Finan, come up the stairs, I'll be in my room." You hadn't realised just how suggestive that sounded until Finan's eyes widened even more, and he cocked his head with a cheeky grin, retorting something about you being more forward than ever. You slapped his chest, mocking his childishness, though before you could fully manage to hit him, he grabbed your wrist with ease.

His arm flexed, and he quickly pulled you in, your feet stumbling to keep up with his strength, until you felt his breath on your face, and you were close enough to be touching his lips.

"Quite the invitation, lady," he half joked, but in reality, he as already counting down the hours. "I will be there, Y/N."

After what felt like the longest night in history, the last of the crowd finally retreated from the alehouse. You were itching to see Finan. Since the two of you last spoke, you had barely seen him. Uhtred was shamefully taken home by Sihtric, who you were amazed was sober. The rest of the men and women left together, and you said your final goodbyes, closing the doors. This time, however, you didn't lock them.

You trudged upstairs, tiredness hitting your body. After hours, you finally took a seat on the edge of your bed, fiddling with the silly plaits that you had worried so much over. You sensed Finan's presence when there was a slight moan of old wood being pressed as he walked up to meet you. You had so much to say to him you could hardly contain yourself, rising from your sitting position.

Finan gave a polite knock, but didn't bother waiting, bending under the doorframe before returning to his natural state, giving you an incredibly sheepish look. You stuttered slightly, but told him to sit. You quickly realised that a man had never been up to your room. It was spacious enough, with a large bed of furs and enough space for plenty of candlelight.

"Please, sit, Finan." you held your hand out as if to show him the way, guiding yourself to the edge of your bed. Finan let out a small laugh at your sudden formality, bending as if giving you a mocking bow before sitting next to you.

Even though he had been the one to initiate conversation last time, you made it your mission to get there before him, wanting to get your own point across before he said anything to you.

"Finan, I have to tell you," you started, feeling an awful mist of tension heating up your body suddenly, " I just - I hate," you sighed in frustration, groaning as you could hardly get the words out. Finan seemed heavily amused, beckoning you to continue.

"I just really enjoy when you're here." Pathetic. "And I don't like it when you're gone away for weeks. And I worry for you when you're not here, even though I have faith in you."

Once you break the seal, you can hardly stop. Finan takes in every word as though it is gospel, but you hardly notice as you babble on.

"Obviously you're strong, and umm, and handsome, and you speak well enough to get yourself out of trouble,"

"Oh, do keep going, lady. I've never been so flattered." he raised a hand to his chest, feigning shyness. You glared at him, embarrassment curling itself around your neck, blocking any clear thought from entering your head. Finan quickly sensed your frustration, placing a hand on your thigh to steady you.

But that just made it worse.

"And then I think we're good, but you don't speak to me f-for weeks, Finan. And then you touch my thigh like this!" You could almost laugh at yourself, truly, "and I just want you all of the time, and I think we . . . I think we should be together."

With your final declaration out of the way, you feel a fatal sense of worry overcome your body at his shocked face. The hand on your thigh doesn't move, however. It tightens.

"Y/N," he starts, and you brace yourself for the worst, "Please, I want to be with you too. I stayed distant, because, well because I didn't want anything to happen to you. If I am with you, then I'll have something to actually fight for," he looked down as he continued, clearly stressed, "but then if I have something to fight for I'll have something to lose as well."

You began to understand him clearly. With what he had seen, particularly with recent events, there was always a risk involved. Perhaps what made him so good is that everything he previously needed to protect was always on the battlefield with him. The two of you together would be a constant source of worry for him. You could be kidnapped, taken hostage, injured while he was away.

"But, Finan, every time you've left, nothing has happened to me. I'm here, aren't I? Entirely whole."

"But it's different, or, it would be different," he stressed, hands flying up as he spoke.

"The only difference is I'd be yours. And I want to be yours, Finan."

He looked at you then. Really looked at you. His hand ran through his beard, and any semblance of composure that he had snapped when you bit your lip. Perhaps he was being ridiculous. Perhaps he was thinking about things too deeply. After all, he was an entirely competent warrior. If anything happened, he would be able to solve it.

He could barely control himself any longer, when your hand came to fiddle with the ribbons weaved into your loosening braids. You had never looked more innocent and enticing - he physically couldn't stand what you were doing to him.

Meanwhile, you took note of his chest heaving, feeling your own heartbeat gain speed. You decided to let even more out, noticing his gaze shifting to your hair.

"I plaited these for you, I thought they would impress you." The sheepish truth had you looking down, realising that the two of you had been stupidly restricting one another whilst simultaneously trying to impress one another in a hideously drawn out back and forth. Sorrows had settled, and now you wanted him. You needed Finan.

"They do impress me, most definitely," he assured you, teasing you slightly with his reaction. He found you utterly adorable, that you had done some little change to please him, "but you already caught my attention without the ribbons, Y/N."

The cross around his neck gleamed as it dangled, moving slightly as he leaned down to meet your face as you sat beneath him on the bed. The tenderness of the moment had been replaced by burning passion.

"Finan, I-"

"Say my name again."

"Finan-" You couldn't even finish before his lips crashed into yours. Everything melted away when you kissed. Every semblance of a problem disappeared, and it was just you and Finan. He revelled in the idea that you were his woman, spoiling himself with the very thought of it.

You, meanwhile, were growing incredibly impatient. The man in front of you was something else, his muscles straining as his hands trailed down to your waist and picked you up. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his strong waist, arousal beginning to leak from within you as his grip tightened. He couldn't get enough of you, and he never wanted to let you go.

"I hope you know, love, that I'm keeping you forever." He smiled, adjusting you a little so that you felt the bulge of his crotch just underneath your sex, friction causing you to whine slightly. You weren't entirely sure if Finan was aware that you were a virgin, but the feeling of his body against yours prevented you from saying anything.

"Let me hear you." he demanded as he looked up at you, and thought he was still the Finan you knew, an air of seriousness had overcome him, and the words that came from him were dominating. You understood now how he managed to control armies the way he did.

You buried your head between his neck and shoulder, drooling slightly as you let out a moan at Finan's undying strength. With your undergarments pulled to the side by the stretch of his fingers, he made sure to move you up and down ever so slowly, rubbing against his crotch even more until your naked sex could take it no more.

The fabric of his trousers was an obstacle that you needed to be removed as soon as possible. Though the friction created waves of pleasure, the way he was holding you had you panting for more.

"Please, Finan, take them off." you looked into his eyes, which held an amused stare. He took your worn out image in, unable to believe how lucky he was. Any negative thought about the relationship between you two could be dealt with later, right now he had you securely in his arms, entirely fucked out without him even properly touching you yet.

You fastened your legs around his waist, which made him laugh. "You're telling me what to do now, is it?" truthfully, he would let you do or say anything you wanted. He was wrapped around your little fingers, and he knew it well.

"Love, I can't do what you ask if you continue to cling to me like a pup," he wore a toothy grin on his face, amusement growing in time with your own frustration. You loosened your thighs from his hold, and he set you down gently on your own bed. You fidgeted when you realised what would happen once his trousers were off, if you even managed to wait that long.

You watched him undo his breeches, only to around halfway, not even letting them slide down his legs before he came to you again. You leaned your head into his arm, nuzzling instinctively into his hold like some trained animal. You felt you would burst, declaring "I love you," before he could say anything else.

"I love you too, you and your ribbons." he flicked your braid with his finger, drawing you in to a loving kiss. You were slightly stunned at his lack of hesitation, any precaution having been abandoned by him. Finan felt it as well, the swell of pride that filled him as he announced his love for you, not even questioning the words. He knew them to be true, and he knew that with you as his woman, he was entirely complete.

Your next words, however, did catch him off guard.

"I've never been with a man, Finan." you confessed, maintaining eye contact with him as you waited for his reaction, worrying that he would be less eager to bed you with your inexperience. Finan tried to fight the impure thoughts as they wavered in his brain, unable to keep his hands off you as he thought of a way to reassure you without sounding too patronising, as he usually managed.

When he still didn't say anything, it prompted you to finally look away from him, wondering if he really cared about it as much as you thought.

"Hey, where's my lady gone?" he moved to sit beside you, feeling somewhat of a fool that his bulge was straining against the half of his breeches that still hung from his hips, and you with your dress bunched up so high that all he could think about were the stockings slipping down your delicate thighs. You didn't have the faintest idea of the impact you had on him right now.

He wasn't entirely sure how much more restraint he could exercise. "I don't care about that, I want to be the only man that ever gets to touch you from now on, anyway." he buffed his chest to try and make you laugh, but you didn't give him the satisfaction of laughing, too engrossed in lulling over the words he had just uttered.

"I want to be your only woman, Finan." and with that, you kissed him forcefully, adjusting your body so that you could straddle his frame, his heavy arms wrapping around your waist, bringing you further into his kiss. His hands moved down to your ass, squeezing firmly. Your mouth remained open when he allowed them to slip further down your thigh, toying with the hem of one of your stockings. They were cheap things, made for you with the purpose of convenience, and yet he was treating them like they were pure gold.

"I don't think I'll be sharing you with anyone anytime soon, love," he managed to whisper into your ear, your hands finding his hair and gripping tightly when he inserted two fingers into you, the promise of 'getting you ready for him' hanging in the air. The feeling was unlike anything you had experience, a welcome intrusion to your core. You felt his fingers curl, pushing up as far as they could go, meanwhile his thumb also occupied a space on your clit, rubbing ever so gently whenever he could to bring you pleasure.

You felt your thigh muscles trembling as you still straddled him on your knees, his head on your shoulder, occasionally kissing your neck, creating his own little mark on you. Finan knew he was possessive. He had to remind himself to be gentle with you, however, removing his fingers and inserting them again, wanting to tease you slightly.

You gave a quick tug to his thick hair in retaliation, which he seemed to like as he groaned and leaned back in order to see your face. You couldn't help a satisfied grin, otherwise looking rather empty as you thought of nothing but pleasure.

"Careful there," he said, returning his attention to kissing your neck, marking it with a slight bite. His warm lips on your skin affected you in ways you hadn't thought possible. You wondered why he hadn't put his fingers back inside of you, but you felt him fidget beneath you, until his cock was fully out, brushing back and forth against your sex. The two sensations together, of his lips and his cock, very nearly sent you over the edge embarrassingly soon.

The ghost of pleasure kept pulsating at your core, his hand moving his cock back and forth ever so slowly, sometimes seeming as though he was about to slip in and then releasing altogether from you. You hated it, the absence and the longing, playing tricks with your mind and turning you into some kind of depraved whore.

"Finan, I swear-"

"You swear what, lady?" he taunted you, still not close enough as his arm adjusted its claim around your waist, your breasts squishing into his own chest as you practically kneeled over the top of him, wanting to push him down to finish the job yourself.

"If you don't hump me soon, I will personally ban you from this very alehouse." shocked at your own feistiness, you hadn't imagined Finan to take your word so literally. Before you knew it, your back hit your bed of furs, and Finan now kneeled above you, playing with himself, tugging back and forth, his hard cock so prominent you felt it would break you.

And break you it did. His tip finally breached your walls, before his entire member felt your insides. Your core was so full, so unbelievably full. The pressure seemed to build before he even began to move, and you released several short pants, biting back a moan that he seemed to want to encourage out of you as he moved his hips just slightly, his muscled core meeting your soft, pliable thighs, now up in the air, hanging from his grip.

You were entirely at his mercy, so pliant for him, and so good for him. "I hadn't expected you to listen well, and you proved me right," he started, moving in and out once, so tantalisingly slowly that you felt every curve, vein and pulse going through him, "I told you to be careful, didn't I sweet girl?"

Though he was teasing, he still wanted to make sure you were okay. He didn't move until your face lost the scrunch and your eyes opened to look at him, heavy breathing turning into moans as your impatience move.

"Move, Finan." And that was all he needed to hear, moving in and out of you with some force, his hands clamping into the soft flesh of your thighs, still admiring the stockings that you wore, reminding himself to ask you to wear them more often.

Your lips fell open in a gasp when he sped up even more, soft 'good girls' coming from his lips in murmurs. He let go of one of your thighs, letting your leg fall to the bed, while his free hand now moved to your stomach, pressing down on your core and feeling exactly where he was inside of you. He pumped so rhythmically that you began to think you'd truly reached heaven, the additional pressure applied by his strong hands becoming too much for you.

He watched your face, assessing you to ensure you were still comfortable. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt you in any way. You felt funny, a strange tingling, almost like a warning, reaching your core.

"F-Finan, I think . . ."

He shushed you, understanding what you meant. Who was he to deny such a lovely maiden what she wanted? "Just breathe, Y/N, don't fight it, sweet girl," he guided you, the pressure of his hand increasing. He maintained his pace, feeling your walls tighten and squeeze around him, clamping so hard he struggled to keep up.

"Come on, there we are," he further encouraged, and normally, you'd tell him to shut up, his words embarrassing you slightly, but you were so filled with delicate pleasure that you couldn't risk losing it. The immense pinch in your core finally snapped, and you were coming around him, pumping him for all he was worth as your arousal came to its peak. Your face made him positively weak at the knees.

"There we go," he cooed, his hand coming to your clit to stimulate you more, though you began begging him not to, trying and failing to grab his wrist in the process. You bit your lip instead, eyes all glossy and strained as you looked at your lover as though he was God. Perhaps he was, because no mortal man should have been able to make you feel so good.

"Please come, Finan." you whined sweetly, and he could never deny you as he had done before. He would listen to you if you told him to do anything, let alone come, which he did gladly, pumping you full of his seed, thinking briefly about the pups you could share. The pups that you would share.

His heart pumped ten times as fast as he bred you, vowing to be the only man to touch you ever again. His possessiveness had seemed to grow in the last hour, and he lifted you suddenly onto his lap, caressing the top of your head as you panted in unison.

"We'll speak properly tomorrow," he began, stroking your now undone hair. Your ribbon barely hung on, and you wound it around his fingers, the fabric reminding him of your sweet confession, something that he knew he would tease you about for years to come, but secretly loved, "sleep for now, love."

He stayed awake for most of the night, observing you every now and then, mostly focusing on the sway of the candlelight. He had seen his lord go through so much, and now he had something too precious to lose, he vowed that the same would not happen to him. Even if it cost him his loyalty.

[magicgalatica]

My Lioness~

Yandere! Apollo (Record Of Ragnarok) x Amazon Warrior! Female Reader

“You’ll Be Mine, Sunshine.”

——————————————————————————

Apollo had met many woman in his life…. Some of Royalty, Maidens, Worshippers, and Nymph’s. Who all adore and admire him for his beauty and charm. Praising him. Drawn to him like moths to glowing light. To which Apollo rewarded them gracefully, pleased to himself. For these woman before him are always at his feet. Come to his beckoning call. To please him if needed.

That was until he saw……

You.

Unlike of those he seen throughout his existence and him roaming onto the mortal realm. You were different….. very different. Instead of focusing on beauty or fashion compared to most woman within the Roman towns. Y/n had no interest. Her eyes focused on something else. Battling beast and challenges set before her. What caught his ear was that you were well known within the Roman town. Known as: The Lioness. Apollo himself wondered why such a title was given to you. Until he learned why. Due to the strong pride you carried when you fight. Either men or monster. Along with your lions that follow your every path. Wearing a lion helmet, shield in one hand and spear in the other. Eyes holding focus. Apollo wondered how such woman would have very strength. Till his question was quickly answered by one of his worshippers. You were a Amazon. A powerful one at that. Able to throw a man onto his back or take a large boar down with ease. Apollo couldn’t help but be so drawn by a very beautiful powerful Amazon. His worshippers took notice and grew jealous. However he ignored them. Plotting on how he should face you directly to introduce himself. Which it wasn’t long for him to figure out since there’s on spot you enjoy to yourself away from everyone. A soft grassy area. Under a large tree that gave shade. Y/n leaned against it to rest herself by her male lion that laid beside her. Breathing softly. Breeze gently brushing. Inhaling air once more. Enjoying silence that held. Only to last for a second as light beamed near her. Y/n opened her eyes, adjusting before moving her gaze to see a male with long blonde hair and clothing the gave of royalty or rather just godly. Apollo gazed upon Y/n who was gazing at him with her e/c. Apollo grinned at her.

“Hello dear maiden, I am Apollo.” He said in a soft tone and gave her a seductive wink.

Y/n however didn’t seem to budge nor flinch at his wink. Or just wasn’t interested. Mainly just registering what he said to her. To which surprised Apollo, normally adjusted to woman immediately falling for him quickly or praise him. But for you, you didn’t show any signs of quick interest. Just a plain gaze.

“Oh you must be the sun god.”

Even tho her voice held respect, her face remained the same. Y/n stood and faced him.

“My apologies for not realizing it was you.”

Oh how her voice sounded lovely to Apollo’s ears.

“It is alright my dear.”

Y/n stood in front of him. Her eyes locked onto his own. Getting a better view of each other. Or rather Apollo getting a better view. Admiring. Her muscles. Her gaze. Her aura. A few scars here and there but it didn’t bother him much. Like she was tiny drop of sun in front of him. So dazzling. So beautiful. He badly wanted his fingers to trace onto her. To feel her. Hold her close to his own body.

“LADY Y/N!” A voice shouted, disturbing them.

Anger flowed within Apollo of the disturbance. Y/n turn away to the voice that sounded within air. No. You were supposed to be focused on him. ON HIM.

“What is it?” Y/n spoke, focusing on the man.

“Beast… Beast are attacking the village.”

Y/n tensed before turning to Apollo.

“I apologize my lord. I must go.” She says to him, taking her spear and shield. Running down the hill to the village to aid.

Apollo stood, watching her disappearing into the distance. Yet the anger still lingered in his body. Why must these mortals request YOU to defeat these monstrosities when they themselves are cocky enough to fight. Especially since they a disturbed their little greeting to each other. Apollo took a deep breath to relieve his anger. He will just have to try to gain your attention again…. Without disturbance.

It became constant. Him facing you. Greeting you. Often bringing gifts. Praising you. You didn’t mind it. But you did point out he didn’t have to bring gifts and praising her. Yet he insisted. Even if you were stubborn about it.

He adored how stubborn you were about it. Like if you were scolding him but not really. Flustered, yet it was so rare for her to be. Though his flirting doesn’t get through her. Pushing that aside rather quickly.

He loved her.

No.

He was obsessed.

To a point he ignored other woman. His eyes focused on her and her alone. Truly like a moth to a dazzling light. Drawn more and more. Obsession growing deeper into him. Causing his emotions to go berserk when near her. To a point he’ll hold her close if they ever enter Roman towns. Nobody dared to bother them, not wanting to enrage the god. Yet Y/n was… dense about it but did question the sun god of him having her so close to him.

“To make sure no one would dare dirty your purity and beauty my sunshine.”

He was true to his own words.

He wouldn’t allow anyone to do so.

That was until a drunken man tried to. Whistling and yet tried to be handsy. Although that ended with him being thrown onto the ground by Y/n. Knocking the wind out of him. However in Apollo’s eyes….

That wasn’t enough.

Maybe a little Devine punishment would teach him a manner… even if it means having to join underworlds gates. Having to excuse himself away for his personal reasons. His eyes glowing with anger. Following where this drunken man has went. Noticing a stumbling body a few feet in front of him. His anger boiled as the man heard his footsteps. Turning to him. Eyes blinking. Trying to get a better view. Then he sobered up when reality hit him. Seeing the sun god standing before him.

“L-Lord Apollo-“

“Silence.”

The man become silent as Apollo glared at him intently. Causing the man to shiver.

“You dare to put your filthy hands onto her beauty.”

“My lord I’m sorry..”

“Sorry won’t take back the action you attempted.”

Apollo twitched his finger as a bow glowed with his hand.

“My lord please-“

Apollo pulled back the string, his cold gaze focused on the man that quivered before him.

“Pleading won’t save you.”

Y/n noticed a glow within the forest. She took a step forward but froze when a wave uncertainty course through her. Like if it was telling to not enter. Apollo appeared before her. Grinning.

“I apologize my sunshine. I had to talk to him to make sure he apologized for his behavior.”

Y/n however, felt like that wasn’t the truth. She didn’t question him about it. Especially when a part of her didn’t wish to push for it to anger him.

Months passed by as many begin to disappear. Y/n begin to question the people of what may caused this. Some believe animals may have gotten to them or moved away. Which was left unknown of the true happening of the missing. Making Y/n concerned although Apollo suggested to worry much of it. Y/n wasn’t at ease tho. Leave but abandon their items. To which was off in Y/n’s eyes. But for now this isn’t at her concern as much it bothered her.

“Lord Apollo. I believe this may be our last time we might speak.”

Apollo raised a brow.

“Why is that sunshine.”

Y/n gazed at him.

“I’ve been summoned in aid for a battle that will commence.”

Apollo’s eyes narrowed as anger filled him.

“I must rest at my housing before I head off in the morning to join the Spartans for the battle.”

Apollo though not showing it, was enraged. Why must humanity deserve your strength and power. Your beauty. Do you not understand. Their using you. Y/n breathes out. Facing him once again.

“I bid you farewell my lord. For I must rest now. Till we meet again.”

Y/n turned away as Apollo stared at her. Watching her walk away from him.

Agitation ignited in Apollo. Humanity doing this. They didn’t deserve you. And you didn’t deserve to be near them. He had to take you away. No.

He needed to take you away.

Night took the sky for Nyx stepped out. Y/n breathes out as she laid amongst her bed. Easing her body. Adjusting before darkness took her eyes to sleep. Tension in her body easing up. Resting slowly into the bedding.

Outside, a dim light glowed as Apollo stood next to her bedding. Staring down at her with glowing eyes. Seeing her asleep peacefully.

Perfect.

Gently moving the hair away from her face as she slept. Sliding her arms under her body. Making sure with movement, he couldn’t wake her up. Lifting her up. Bodies closed together. Apollo walked outside with her in his arms. When you awaken. You wouldn’t be in the human realm no more for you didn’t belong there. You belonged at his side. You were his sunshine.

If you didn’t understand.

He’ll make you understand.

That humanity is what you don’t need. He’ll be all of what you need. He’ll spoil you. Praise you. Pleasure you.

He is yours, and You are his.

[imfoive]

Crystal Bird - Chapter 5

Crown Prince! Chan x Princess (fem.) Genre: Royal au! Angst, Romance, Historical, hidden identity, slow-burn Warnings: mentions of blood, war, death, cursing, parental abuse, somewhat proofread WC: 8.4k A/N: It gets better, I promise! Feedback is always welcome, enjoy! ── MASTERLIST

Synopsis: The Crown Prince is saved by the Princess of a rival kingdom, and he swears his second life to his savior. A forbidden friendship no one knew of, grows deeper with every secret meeting. As the two are kept apart, memories of their sunset playdates by the serene river, begin blossoming into something beautiful. Cheeks blushed, stomach butterflies fluttered at the thought of each other. Years of yearning and imagining had only made them crave a sweeter reunion. And finally meeting at a Royal banquet, he could only stare at the now grown Princess, taken by her beauty, while she only watches as he gives his heart to the wrong princess.

Missed a chapter? - Prologue / Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4

CHAPTER 5 ───────────────────

The warrior prince of Nightshade had finally found his princess, and for a fleeting moment, he could almost feel the intense worry that had gripped his heart over the years, begin to lift. 

Yet, as quickly as the relief settled in, it was overtaken by another, more unsettling emotion.

Confusion.

Chris’ momentary happiness was cut short as he watched Princess Sienna bid farewell with a formal nod after their introduction. The light in his eye morphing into a panic as Sienna dipped for a low curtsy. Her arm gently nudged the second princess, who had been momentarily dazed, and they both began moving toward the next circle of nobles to greet. 

The warrior prince’s eyes followed her form, before his attention shifted to Han. They exchanged a look that mirrored each other’s bewilderment, both clearly taken aback by the unexpected turn of events. 

By the lack of acknowledgment.

But before Chris could voice his thoughts to his guard, he was approached by another young lady. She gazed at him with a blend of awe and trepidation and a bit of lingering fear.

   “G-good evening, Prince Christopher. I am Alyssa Miller, daughter of Count Miller.” She introduced herself.

Chris stared at her for a moment, before giving her a curt nod. He had briefly met her and her father the evening before at dinner. But he didn’t care enough to recall her name. Yet, here she stood, clearly intrigued by the Nightshade prince, looking at him as if he were some animal in a zoo.

A brief silence settled between them. The young lady awkwardly fidgeted with her gloves, while Han eyed his stoic prince, void of any emotion on his face.

   “Have you taken to the dance floor yet, Prince Christopher?” Alyssa continued, her rigid but shy demeanor stealing glances at the composed warrior.

   “I have not.” Chris responded curtly.

   “Would you like to—”

Her eyes faltered at the sight of the familiar pendant hanging on his neck, gaze narrowing. Something that did not go unnoticed by the defensive foreign prince.

Did she also recognize it? What was going on?

   “First Princess Sienna had something just like this.” Her lips had thinned into a thoughtful smile, trying to recall that afternoon.

   “My father had collected it on one of his journeys and I had gifted it to her myself during a birthday celebration—but she had lost it.”

Alyssa’s recount of the story was automatic, Chris didn’t even have to attempt to get it out of her.

He finally had a backstory of this crystal pendant, he knew what came next. From the vivid memories he swore not to forget, to Han’s detailed explanation of that day.

The Princess had lost it while saving him that afternoon.

Sienna had left the crystal bird for him to find.

The crown prince of Nightshade raised a brow, crossing his arm over his chest.

   “How long has your father been on the King’s court?” Chris questioned.

His question caught Alyssa off guard, bringing her out of her memories, causing her to blink in surprise.

   “Uh-um, ever since I was born. I used to play with the princesses when I was a child.” She confessed, her eyes drifting towards where Sienna and Y/N had been.

   “...Though Princess Sienna doesn’t quite recall.” Alyssa added softly, her words piquing the interest of the stoic prince, his brows arching in curiosity.

This time Prince Christopher glanced back at Han, eyes subtly calling for the young guard to approach. Han quickly came to his prince’s side, a small smile playing on his lips.

   “You must be thirsty, Lady Alyssa. My guard here will fetch you a drink.” The Prince said, his tone softer this time.

   “Oh!— How can your personal guard do such a thing? There is no need.” Alyssa protested politely, stealing a glance at Han, who stood confident, a guard clearly of high rank.

   “I insist.” Chris replied, attempting to be charming, a demeanor he rarely adopted.

   “If you’re still hesitant, why don’t you come along, my lady. I can fetch my prince his drink instead.” Han suggested, his smile unwavering.

Alyssa appeared to be taken by the gentle smiles of these handsome yet mysterious foreign men, slowly nodding in agreement as Han gestures for her to lead the way. Christopher glanced at his guard once more, silently assigning a task.

The evening’s bustle grew louder as the nobles relaxed with more drinks, setting aside political discussions for idle gossip. And somehow Chris found himself wrapped up in it as well.

   “You know, I was quite surprised the Nightshade Kingdom even accepted an invitation.” One of the older noble men addressed, looking towards Prince Christopher, who somehow found himself amongst them.

Without his guard to deflect them, Chris sighed inwardly, resigned to joining their conversation, humoring whatever they talked about. 

   “You don’t speak much do you, your highness?” Another young noble, evidently from the Elysium King’s court, added.

   “I’m more of an observer.” Chris replied politely, finally asserting himself.

Count Miller, who Chris recalled from the previous night’s dinner, and Lady Alyssa’s father, let out a hearty laugh.

   “Of course. Observing is what the Nightshade warriors are good at. Like predators looking for their prey. Uncivilized and ready to attack.” He chuckled, and the group amongst them bellowed out with their laughter as well. 

The warrior prince’s brow twitched at the remark, his rigid posture prompting a few uncomfortable glances among the group. But he managed to hold his tongue.

Noticing the sudden tension, Count Miller patted the young noble besides him on the shoulder and turned to Chris with a grin.

   “Surely my jest didn’t offend you Prince Christopher?” The look on his face felt taunting almost.

The other men glanced at the foreign prince with unease, their thoughts likely drifting to the notorious reputation of the Nightshade Kingdom.

   “Of course not.” Chris replied with a smile, though his hands clenched in the pockets of his slacks.

The men chuckled in response, and some minutes later Prince Christopher seized the opportunity to excuse himself, citing the need for some fresh air.

He found himself in the back garden, one that he recalled seeing from his chambers at Ruby Hall. But the sight of pretty roses weren’t enough to calm his nerves. Anger was evident in his expression as he paced behind the hedges, muttering curses under his breath, his fingers tightening around the crystal bird pendant in an attempt to calm his nerves.

   “A jest? Ridiculous.” He muttered through gritted teeth, frustration simmering beneath his calm exterior. 

He was stewing in his anger, inhaling deeply to soothe the frustration. But the foreign prince’s brief moment of solitude was interrupted by approaching voices, pulling him back to reality. 

Did he appear suspicious standing alone out here?

Quickly, he tucked his necklace into his vest and melted into the shadows of the hedges. 

Yeah, definitely not suspicious. He chided himself silently.

   “You’ve gotten really bold lately.” Lady Katherine’s voice carried, though hushed, with unmistakable anger as she dragged Y/N along by the wrist, her grip tight.

   “How can you even speak out amongst them?” Lady Katherine continued her tirade.

Y/N glanced between her livid mother and her mother’s personal attendant. 

She wasn’t sure herself. 

What had come over her?

Y/N hadn’t intended to speak up, but witnessing the nobles’ mockery of the Nightshade warriors, even after Chan’s departure, had stirred something inside her.

A protectiveness that she guessed stemmed from her loyalty to a friendship she was too afraid to acknowledge, had led her to voice out her disapproval. Her legs automatically moved and she had found herself confronting the group of noble men.

   “Speaking in favor of those wild beasts isn’t something fit for a princess.” Her mother admonished sharply.

There were those words again. 

Fit for a princess. 

The words echoed in Y/N’s mind, a constant reminder of the expectations and scrutiny that plagued her every move. 

But why didn’t she feel like a princess? 

Especially today.

Tonight on the day where she was supposedly one of the main character’s of the banquet. The night where she was finally introduced as the second princess of this nation.

She didn’t feel like a Princess at all. 

And with Chan failing to recognize her this evening, she felt even less than. Y/N closed her eyes tightly for a brief moment, holding back the anger and hurt that simmered within her. 

   “My words were nothing but the truth. Surely you don’t believe belittling our honorable guests is acceptable? Besides I’ve asserted my power as second princess, you should be satisfied by my actions.” Y/N implored, her words hitting her mother like a challenge.

Lady Katherine stood momentarily speechless, visibly taken aback by her daughter’s defiance, the stubborn glint in her eyes. Things that were becoming too frequent.

Instead of responding, Katherine raised her hand as if to strike Y/N, a familiar threat when she couldn’t counter her daughter’s bold truths. Y/N closed her eyes, ready for the sting that came with it. However, the mother’s hand faltered at the sharp exclamation of her maid.

   “My lady, you mustn’t! The princess is still recovering from yesterday’s bruises.” The old maid interjected urgently, prompting Lady Katherine to glance at Y/N’s cheek, concealed under fading makeup.

Her mother’s hand dropped to her side with a frustrated “tsk,” the sound resonating in the quiet night air.

   “Have her maid take her back to her chambers, her wounds are becoming visible. I shouldn’t see her for the rest of the night.” Katherine spat, her words laced with displeasure, before turning sharply and stomping off toward the banquet hall.

The maid hesitated, caught between her duty and the tension in the air. 

   “S-stay here, Princess. I shall send for your maid.” She stammered, hurrying after Lady Katherine.

Finally left alone in the garden, silence stretched around Y/N. The second princess stood in her anger, shame, guilt, for a long while. She glanced around, feeling exposed and vulnerable. 

The hiding warrior prince stood puzzled in the shadows, staring wide ahead into the night, suddenly uncertain of his next move. There was an uneasy feeling in his chest from whatever he had stumbled upon unknowingly. 

Should he step out and confront the situation, or slip away into the hedges to find another route of escape from this awkward encounter? 

But before he could ponder further, he heard her footsteps drawing closer, stopping just a few feet away from the shadows he had concealed himself in. He scrunched his face, praying she would not turn his way, hoping that she would just stomp off.

   “Damn it.” She muttered, frustration evident in her voice as she ran a hand through her hair and sighed loudly.

Of course she doesn’t stomp off, the unmistakable sensation of being watched made her jolt, head swiftly turning towards the hedges. Y/N nearly gasped, hand clutching at her chest when she saw the Nightshade Prince step out of the dark bushes.

With a guilty expression plastered on his face, Chris cleared his throat awkwardly, searching for an excuse. He glanced around the garden attempting to come up with anything to say about his presence here. For hiding and ultimately eavesdropping.

   “P-Prince Christopher!” Y/N blurted out, before regaining her composure quickly.

   “Second Princess…” He addressed, her title still sounding strange and foreign no matter how aware of her existence he was.

   “What are you doing here? Are you lost?” She asks, attempting to divert his attention, though it was clear he had overheard her earlier conversation with her mother.

Chris caught himself, pretending he wasn’t glued to the darkness but was talking a nightly stroll and simply stumbled across her path. His gaze flickered toward the direction Lady Katherine and her maid had disappeared, then settled back on Y/N. 

   “I was out for some air. The atmosphere inside is quite stifling for a wild beast.” Chris remarked casually, his tone laced with a sudden hint of amusement, to ease the awkward, stuffy mood.

Her breath hitched at his words, realizing he had overheard more than she intended. Quickly regaining composure, she bowed slightly.

   “I apologize if what you have heard has offended you.”

   “Oh? Were you ladies having a discussion about me?” Chris countered with a feigned innocence, his eyes flicking toward the path the two older women had taken, once again.

   “Surely not.” Y/N lied with a practiced ease, mirroring his pretense.

   “I was referring to Count Miller’s words back then.” She continued

Chris stood impressed by how adeptly the so-called Second Princess handled the situation, even though both were aware of the source of his subtle remarks.

   “Do you not agree with Count Miller’s words as well? All of those nobles seemed to have quite a laugh at what he said. I’m sure it’s not different from what everyone here at Elysium believes to be true.” Chris pressed, a trace of frustration creeping into his voice.

   “It’s common for the noble folk to mock and taunt others in the pretense of a joke. They do it amongst themselves all the time. If you heed into it, you’ll become an easy target. The best thing to do is treat them in the same way. Or, use your authority.” Y/N states, just like she had done before her mother dragged her out here. 

Chris almost chuckled at her straightforwardness, but he maintained his stoic demeanor, studying her with intensity. For a weak princess who had been sheltered all her life, she was really bold. Her ideologies seemed to differ from those of the rest of the Elysium people he had encountered.

An eerily familiar feeling spreads through him.

The silence between them lingered briefly as he observed her, wondering who exactly was this second princess. But while the Nightshade Prince ponders in his thoughts, the second princess is battling her own feelings. A tug at her heart, the want to call out for her Chan.

   “D-Do you believe we’ve met before, Prince Christopher?” Y/N interjected, breaking the quiet with a hint of uncertainty, hint of something else.

Chris raised an eyebrow, arms crossing over his chest.

   “Is this some sort of flirty remark used in your Elysium Kingdom?” He teased lightly, watching for her reaction with a faint amusement.

One which he easily gets with her stunned gaze, and lips parting slightly in shock.

Composing herself, she dropped her gaze, her voice quieter. “You simply looked… familiar.”

Part of her wished he would recognize her, wished she would clear his misunderstanding. While another part accepted that his failure to do so was probably for the best.

   “I have been in the White Mountains of the North for the past decade. It is highly unlikely we crossed paths, even more so for a Princess like yourself.” Chris replied, his demeanor returning to its usual composed state.

Her wonders of where he had disappeared, were finally answered. 

Of course she had questions, she had many questions but her voice refused to come out, mind and heart battling with conflicted thoughts and emotions. Her mother’s warnings, her own doubts and self-deprecating thoughts clashing against her want to pull her once only true friend into an embrace. 

Instead, she bowed her head. 

   “I must have made a mistake then.”

Chris softened slightly at the downturn of her expression, his brows easing as he stood upright. The familiar feeling gnawed at him. His heart hammered in his chest.

   “Have you ever ventured to the deep end of the Grand Forest river, Princess?” Chris asked, his tone serious, his eyes holding a mixture of earnestness and concern.

A doubtful worry.

A desperate attempt.

Y/N froze, feeling the weight of his question. Stiffening at his awaiting figure before she slowly glanced up to meet his gaze, uncertain of how to respond truthfully.

   “I have not.” She found herself lying, the words slipping out almost automatically.

All but a white lie. Her mind concluded.

Silence settled between them, and Chris took in a deep breath, finally coming to his own conclusion. 

He crossed his arms, his gaze flickered over to the faint redness peeking through her makeup, the previous day’s bruise healing. 

   “How is it that a Princess is allowed to be treated in such a manner in your so-called ‘civilized’ society?” Chris questioned, his tone laced with a hint of bitterness.

Y/N raised a hand instinctively to cover her cheek, her head turning in the direction Lady Katherine had stomped off. Bringing her back to her harsh reality.

Once again, the second princess easily controlled her emotions, as she met his gaze. It was no big secret, Lady Katherine had always paraded around her status as the Second Elysium Princess’ mother. It wouldn’t be too long before the foreign guests were made aware of who she truly was.

What expression will Chan make when he finds out about her less-than royal status? She wondered. 

   “What you witnessed was a mother simply disciplining her child.” She explained, catching him off guard with her response.

His brows contorted in confusion, eyes squinting as he studied her face. 

   “Are you not the child of the King and Queen?” Chris asked, genuinely confused.

She looked just like the King. She shared lots of similar features with Princess Sienna, he would have never guessed they weren’t full sisters.

   “I am the daughter of His Highness the King, and yes, the Queen is mother of all royal children. But the lady who bore me is Lady Katherine, my mother.” Y/N clarified, watching his reaction carefully.

Chris stared at Y/N, trying to process this unconventional family structure. Then, unexpectedly, he let out a mocking laugh.

   “The King here runs around having his fun and bringing children into the world, yet your society calls us ‘uncivilized’?” Chris’ words pierced through Y/N, who glanced around quickly to see if anyone had heard his damning words.

   “Worry not. There is no one around.” He reassured her, though his eyes involuntarily flicked towards the hedges where he had previously hidden.

   “But I guess he still honors his Royal reputation, as you’ve still gotten a title and allowed you to reside on the palace grounds.” Chris mused aloud, while Y/N remained silent.

Everything Christopher had just said struck a nerve of truth. Both embarrassing and painfully true. Despite carrying the title of “Princess,” Y/N knew she could never truly embody it.

But of course a crown prince like himself would never be able to understand that.

   “Is it not like that in Nightshade?” Her voice is quiet.

Chris crossed his arms, a half-smile playing on his lips. “We choose one Queen. We’re quite a romantic clan.” He proclaimed proudly, standing tall almost.

His words, though tinged with a hint of cockiness, answered many of Y/N’s unspoken questions. She bit her lip, wondering if he had made his choice.

She recalled the warmth in his eyes as he stared at Sienna. Would he have looked at her like that if she had stepped forward? If she had been bold enough to call him “Chan” right here, right now?

No.

He hadn’t looked at her at all.

He looked down at her because compared to a Sienna, she looked nothing like a princess.

Y/N’s eyes instinctively searched for the crystal bird pendant he had earlier displayed proudly, only to find it discreetly tucked away beneath the collar of his jacket.

But before she could ask about it, before she could perhaps convince herself to tell him about its origins, Chris’ head snapped toward the direction of the trail leading back to the banquet, his eyes narrowing.

   “Someone is coming.” The Prince stated abruptly.

Immediately Y/N takes a step back, and seeing her do so, the confused prince is easily able to interpret her expression.

She did not want to be seen with him.

Of course, she was a Royal from Elysium, unlike his princess, she probably hated his kind, his people, like everyone else in this nation.

He sighed, retreating back into the hiding place among the shadows. Turning his head in an unbothered stance, his eyes met Han’s stunned gaze.

   “My princess!” It was Anna’s voice, sent to escort Y/N back to her chambers as Lady Katherine had ordered.

The young girl hurried to guide her mistress through the dimly lit garden while Y/N stole one last glance at the hedges where the Warrior Prince had vanished. Emotions swirled within her.

Shame, embarrassment, sadness.

Regret.

   “Why didn’t you come out sooner? It’s not polite to eavesdrop, you know?” Chris chided from the shadows once the two men were alone. As if he hadn't done the exact same thing.

   “I would have, but it was quite difficult. The Second Princess had already seemed quite flustered after seeing you.” Han explained as they emerged, the Prince and his guard making their way down the garden path. 

Chris glanced back briefly towards the direction the second princess had vanished into, her surprised expression, her narrowed gaze.

Suddenly he recalled the young lady who had approached him at the Queen’s palace the morning prior, the familiarity of her voice, her sharp gaze. He faltered in his steps.

   “I guess we have met.” He muttered a tinge amused, garnering a look of curiosity from his guard.

The Prince shook his head, changing the topic.

   “Did you find out why Princess Sienna didn’t recognize me? Or was she pretending because someone might have overheard?” Chris inquired, concern evident in his voice.

Han sighed, knowing his master had been eagerly anticipating a different outcome.

   “Apparently, Princess Sienna was in a carriage accident in Melgarde. She was bedridden for quite some time.” Han revealed, his eyes reflecting Chris’ surprise and sadness.

The prince’s expression softened at such news. Although she was well now, as he had seen, she must have been in a great deal of pain.

   “Lady Alyssa mentioned that Sienna struggled to recognize many of the young ladies here. It’s been years since she was last in this palace, and perhaps her injury and the long recovery that followed may have affected her memories of growing up here.” Han continued, observing Chris’ somber mood.

Chris was at a loss for words.

Why was fate so cruel?

He wanted to do nothing but reunite with the one girl that had always lingered in his mind, in his thoughts. Yet, here he was, unable to do any of that. Han placed his hand on the Prince’s shoulder, giving it a soft press.

   “Worry not. Think of it as another opportunity. Another chance for you to reconnect with her, without any secrets or hiding of identities—And let’s be honest, now you’re much more charming and handsome, you’ll easily win her over.” Han teased, trying to lighten the mood.

   “Was I not handsome and charming as a kid?” 

Leave it to Chris to point out the negative side of things.

   “You were quite scrawny and arrogant for your age back then. It was very easy to carry you too.” Han answered honestly, prompting a scoff from Chris, but he couldn’t refute.

   “Let’s return before they suspect we’re up to something.” Chris muttered, the two men heading back towards the festivities, leaving behind the quiet garden and the tumultuous emotions that had stirred in its midst. ──────────────────────── Y/N stared at her reflection in the tall mirror. Her cheeks remained flushed, the redness lingering even after she had scrubbed away all her makeup. Embarrassment surged anew. She hadn’t expected to encounter the Warrior Prince, let alone for him to see her in such a disheveled state.

To laugh at her rank.

Now he knew her true status.

How lowly she was compared to Princess Sienna, how plain she must have seemed in his eyes. He might not have even considered her a princess before her introduction, and he hadn’t acknowledged her presence back then either.

Tears pricked at her eyes, catching the dim light of her chambers. His words echoed in her mind, his question about the forest, the place where they had met. 

She had lied straight to his face.

And now she cried.

Should she have confessed the truth? That the girl he thought of as a dear friend was nothing but a lowly princess, unworthy to stand beside him, let alone befriend him?

Chris had once wondered how his princess would react upon discovering his princely identity. He had reassured himself that there was nothing to worry about. In the cold mountains of the north, he had come to that conclusion.

But clearly, he was wrong.

Instead the sharp Elysium princess took a deep breath, wiping her tears away and finding the strength she always used to hide her pain. 

She had made the right decision. 

It was nothing but a white lie.

Yes. A lie that would preserve her cherished memories of Chan, who had sought only her company and celebrated only her birthday. Looked at only her.

 A lie that would shield her from her heart shattering into a million tiny pieces.

Prior to the arrival of the foreign envoys, the King’s Mistress had warned her daughter to stay cautious of the Nightshade Kingdom and their representatives. Yet, the Queen had declared that the second princess would become an unofficial host to the princes, particularly the Warrior Prince, an excuse that would keep him at arm’s length from her own daughter.

Of course, none of it went unnoticed by the cautious second princess, who wanted to do nothing more than avoid her childhood friend. The childhood friend who suddenly didn’t remind her of the scrawny, innocent boy anymore. Instead, she saw what everyone else did. 

A commanding presence with keen eyes and curt words, a no-nonsense young man. Handsome and mysterious.

If Y/N hadn’t glimpsed a tinge of his playful side in the garden that evening, she might have never seen a trace of Chan in him, although his words and demeanor had still remained guarded and brusque even in the presence of them two that night.

But still the lowly princess struggled. Y/N could not separate Chris from Chan, and the pain of it cut deep.

She was unsure of what she had expected. 

She had denied being the young princess who once visited their special spot by the river, the one who frequented The Grand Forest. She had let him misunderstand her, yet she couldn’t help but gnaw at her lips as she watched Chris, a smile lingering on his lips, his tone smooth and engaging, a stark contrast to the bluntness he had used with her, when he greeted Sienna.

An emotion simmered within her, elusive and overwhelming. But before it could consume her in the midst of the gathering, she was jolted back to reality by Prince Ian’s loud, carefree laughter. His loud chuckle of carried with the wind.

The royals were gathered at the table, basking in the afternoon warmth of a luncheon hosted in name by Princess Sienna. In truth, her day-younger sister had done the actual preparations. Sienna had not denied it this time. Perhaps, the Queen had given her a stern warning following Sienna’s previous defiance of her wishes the night of the royal dinner.

Although everyone smiled and engaged in conversation, an unspoken tension hung in the air. Sienna hesitated to glance at the foreign princes, either due to unfamiliarity with the situation or lingering childhood lessons about staying wary of Nightshade warriors.

The first princess aside, even the Elysium Crown Prince seemed cautious of the Warrior Prince across from him, yet avoiding meaningful conversation with Prince Hyunjin, who wasn’t important enough for Ian’s attention. 

The two crown princes exchanged discussions about politics and current events, probing each other’s nations’ positions through sweet talks. 

And even if Prince Ian didn’t quite fill in his title as Crown Prince, Chris could easily tell he was a weasel. a schemer, gathering secrets to use for his own advantage when he saw fit. 

Of course, he was his father’s son after all.

Yet, the second princess sat frustrated amongst them. Although Sienna made an excellent princess, with her graceful and generous nature, perfectly embodying an Elysium royal, she lacked the skills to entertain any political conversations, let alone foreign delegates. Perhaps the Queen mother must have noticed it as well, seeing as she ordered for Princess Y/N to be practically glued to the first princess, whenever it came to Sienna interacting with these foreign royals. Aiding her from the shadows. 

A place Y/N had never left to begin with.

Amidst her emotional turmoil and recent heartache, Y/N only wished she could escape this gathering. She feared that Chan might catch her stealing glances and misunderstand her longing gaze. 

Why shouldn’t he? She had denied any childhood connection with him.

Conflicted and uncertain, Y/N managed to keep her feelings in check. She turned her attention to the Sylvancrest prince, engaging him with genuine interest in tales of his voyages to distract herself from Prince Christopher and the Nightshade matters. Yet, as she laughed softly at something he said, she felt the intense gaze of the Warrior Prince upon her. Despite her attempts to dismiss it as coincidence, his eyes lingered, studying her.

When she looked up to meet his gaze, his eyes quickly softened and looked away, as if it were an accident. Moments later, his gaze shifted to Sienna, who was conversing with the Princess-consort. This time, his expression was gentle, even if his glance was fleeting.

Y/N couldn’t really blame anyone, even if she wanted to. Sienna had never confirmed that she was Chan’s childhood friend, she had merely been captivated by the crystal bird hanging around his neck. Perhaps it gave her a glimpse back to her memory from that day.

But her simple acknowledgment of it seemed to be enough for a friend desperate to reunite with her like they had once promised.

The very bird that had once belonged to Sienna herself.

Despite Y/N’s efforts to plant seeds of denial, Sienna’s inability to recall details of their shared childhood in the capital felt like one of the cruelest coincidences of all. 

What a harsh twist of fate. ──────────────────────── The leader of the Midnight Order found himself facing new and unexpected challenges. For years, he had navigated the night with ease, slipping through shadows without fear of detection. Yet despite the rigorous training he’d undergone in the harsh Northern Mountains, he was ill-prepared for the complexities of foreign terrain. To make matters worse, the Kingdom of Elysium was a vibrant and restless realm, alive with activity even after dark.

However, as the leader and sole shadow protector of his band of Midnight warriors accompanying his prince to this foreign kingdom, Minho was well-versed in completing his tasks with precision. By the time the palace was shrouded in the deep darkness that marked the end of the day, after enduring a long day of hearing Prince Ian boast about his prowess with sword and bow, Crown Prince Christopher knew upon seeing Minho in the darkness of his chambers that his warrior had discovered something significant.

Han stood guard, though it was more a precaution than a necessity, as the three warriors in the room had finely tuned hearing, honed over years of training.

   “The elite nobles of the Elysium King’s court have been making frequent visits to his throne room.” Minho reported quietly. 

   “Sometimes they even venture into the king's official study, despite all the revelry. These visits often stretch late into the night.”

Something was definitely amiss, and the Nightshade Prince felt a simmering anger as he grappled with the mystery behind it all. Worry crept in, fueling his unease about the schemes the Elysium royals and nobles might be plotting. He recalled the jabs Count Miller had made during the banquet and the palpable hostility from Prince Ian. He even remembered the way Sienna had avoided looking at him.

Had she begun to hate him? 

Did the years spent apart reshape her perspective, so that she no longer saw Nightshade as a nation with its own traditions and history? Instead as an enemy?

Was she afraid of him?

Minho’s sharp, low voice pulled Chris from his troubling thoughts. 

   “I will continue to monitor the situation. However, I suspect the Elysium Queen has more influence on what is happening than she admits.”

Han’s brows furrowed as he tried to recall any signs of underlying tensions from the Queen. All he remembered were her pleasant smiles as she clung to the king’s arm during the rare glimpses he had of her.

Chris leaned back in his seat, eyes fixed on the Midnight leader. 

   “She’s embedded her own people everywhere, keeping a watchful eye from the comfort of her parlor. I’ve already seen a few familiar faces slipping in and out of her palace.”

It wasn’t surprising to Chris. He had long suspected that the Queen was more than just her gracious demeanor and generous words. If the King’s mistress could cause trouble and strike the second princess, surely the Queen was capable of far more.

For a fleeting moment, Chris’ thoughts drifted back to the second princess. To her surprised expression when he saw her in the garden that evening, the red flush on her cheeks from her mother’s “discipline.”

He suddenly remembered her stepping away from him, afraid someone might see her engaging in a conversation with him. Perhaps, looking down on him.

The warrior prince remembered her soft giggle. The one that had caught his attention amidst his conversation at the luncheon earlier that day. Watching as her eyes crinkled, fingers masking her lips to muffle the delicate sound that came through.

His hand reached towards the crystal bird necklace, gripping it softly in his palms as he bit the inside of his cheek, frustrated. 

Why was he suddenly fixating on a princess he hadn’t known about until a few days ago?

Chris found the distraction unsettling and did not like it at all.

Her presence irked him.

Although the Nightshade Prince noticed that the second princess’s eyes always narrowed into a scowl whenever she thought he wasn’t looking, he couldn’t help but feel irritated.

The feeling was mutual it seemed.

After every encounter, Y/N’s stern tone and narrowed brows didn’t escape the observant prince. 

Unlike Sienna, who perpetually wore a warm smile and exuded a gentle, welcoming demeanor, Y/N was unflinchingly forthright. Her candidness was striking and at first, it even impressed Chris, especially when she added her voice to the complex debates among the princes. However, her views always seemed to oppose his, as if she were deliberately contradicting him.

It was clear she didn’t like him. (He was mistaken, of course.)

What the keen eyed Warrior Prince failed to see was that Y/N was, in fact, reflecting his own opinions in her way, articulating thoughts he would come to later.

If she made a controversial statement, the room would dismiss it as the naive blunders of a young lady unfamiliar with politics. A princess from Elysium would never publicly criticize her own nation. Especially a lowly princess like herself.

But if Chris, the crown prince of a rival kingdom, had expressed similar sentiments, the reaction would have been different. Harsh words and accusations would fly, tarnishing his reputation and insulting his people. Calling him uncivilized.

In reality, the second princess was always on his side, even if she told herself to keep her distance until it was time for him to leave. 

She would pretend their childhood friendship had ended with his cheesy, dimpled smile and promises of a reunion that carried with that summer breeze in the Grand Forest, was the last memory she had of him.

But fate seemed to have other plans. 

She continually found herself drawn into Prince Christopher’s orbit.

Y/N’s thoughts were interrupted as she gazed at the novel in Anna’s hand. The young maid’s face was alight with excitement as she held it out.

   “I finally managed to snag it for you, my lady.” Anna said, her enthusiasm evident.

Despite her usual disapproval of the princess’s obsession with romantic tales, Anna was always one step ahead in securing these stories for Y/N.

Y/N took the book, her emotions shifting as she held it. The love stories within had become an escape from her bleak reality, fueling dreams that suddenly felt unattainable for someone like her. 

She was royalty, but not royal enough . A princess, yes, but one often overlooked and forgotten. 

Such stories of perfect love seemed forever out of reach now.

   “Princess?” Anna’s bright eyes, brimming with hope, were impossible to ignore.

Even though the young maid pretended to be indifferent to these tales, she always listened intently as Y/N recounted them.

With a resigned sigh, Y/N accepted the novel, slipping once more into the realm of impossible happiness. ──────────────────────── The founding day celebrations had been postponed to coincide with the grand wedding of the Elysium Crown Prince and his future consort. Yet, the festivities seemed endless. Chris gazed out of the large window, which framed a perfect view of the rose garden, and immediately noticed a figure that seemed both out of place and captivating. 

Y/N.

She was seated under the gazebo, lost in the pages of a novel, her afternoon dress casual yet elegant.

When Chris had first discovered that his room overlooked the rose garden, he hadn’t paid it much attention. But seeing her there, so absorbed in her book, a wave of distraction washed over him before he swiftly composed himself and drew the curtains closed.

The following day, at the same time, with the sun still high and the warm afternoon breeze flowing through the garden, she was there again, holding the same novel. 

Chris found his curiosity piqued. Yet, agitated at the same time.

What could be so enthralling about that book that it drew her out again? She looked so at peace now but earlier she had crossed him over a discussion at the library.

On the third day, it was as if he had been expecting her. The new memory of their encounter earlier that day lingered bitterly, her deliberate avoidance still fresh in his mind. Her curt dismissal had stung his pride, yet the warrior prince found himself inexplicably drawn to observing her from the windowpane. 

Han had been talking about yet another celebratory dinner, but Chris remained silent, his gaze fixed on her in the distance.

Did she realize how much she irritated him? Her aloof and sometimes sharp demeanor, her lack of deference, all irked him.

Did she know how beautiful she was? 

The way her brows furrowed in concentration, her fingers absentmindedly toying with the earring on her lobe. Subtle gestures that were just enough to capture the Nightshade prince’s attention.

Chris’ eyes traced the contours of her figure as she sat elegantly, yet casually, at the garden table. But as quickly as his gaze lingered, they were cast downward.

Damn, he was doing it again. 

Staring. 

What was wrong with him?

He chastised himself for the impropriety of his thoughts and the rudeness of watching a princess lost in her own world.

He should have been thinking about Sienna. He should be thinking about her sweet smile, her soft voice that reintroduced him to a familiar dessert they’d shared in the quiet of the forest as children. Her apology when she noticed that he was upset by what her sister had said.

Chris glanced to his right, finding Han waiting for a response to a question he hadn’t fully heard. Something about another royal dinner, as if the numerous gatherings he’d attended since arriving hadn’t been enough.

   “It seems Elysium revels in fanfare and celebrations.” The Nightshade Crown Prince chuckled, pulling the curtains shut.

Han hummed in agreement.

   “Yes. Even Minho is exhausted. The palace grounds are bustling day and night, with no respite for him to wander in the dark.”

Chris recalled how Minho had been in and out of his room all night, avoiding patrol guards, and how he nearly tackled the poor warrior the first time he snuck in.

But, despite all the criticism and his reservations, not all these events were unwelcome. 

They provided glimpses of Sienna, giving Chris hope for a chance to exchange words and be enchanted by her smile. Perhaps help her remember some of the things they enjoyed laughing about as children. Lately, however, wherever Sienna went, Y/N followed.

The second princess, almost her exact opposite in grace and demeanor.

Chris scowled at the closed window, a sour taste in his mouth. 

   “Prince Ian wants you to join him in the garden this afternoon. Apparently, he wants to show off his archery skills.” Han said with a hint of amusement, leaning back onto the wood of the grand door.

Chris frowned at the mention of the garden, the very place where Y/N was currently sitting. 

   “Send an attendant. I’ll be delayed.” He dismissed with a groan, sinking back into his recliner. He had no interest in engaging in passive-aggressive conversation with the second princess, or in witnessing Ian’s mediocre archery skills.

But Chris hadn’t been able to stay away, despite his best efforts. 

As he arrived at the garden, he found the atmosphere tense and charged with unease. Prince Hyunjin was absent, leaving only the Crown Prince Ian, the two princesses, and a young Nightshade warrior in training.

Prince Christopher’s attendant.

The young boy stood rooted in place, eyes on the ground, visibly terrified.

Ian had grown up under his father’s shadow, inheriting not only the title of Crown Prince, but also a sense of superiority and disdain for those he deemed beneath him. At the academy, he had developed a cruel pastime, using his archery skills to intimidate and humiliate others. What began with targeting fruits and inanimate objects had escalated to using live targets. Servants, humble nobles, anyone he felt he could dominate.

And now, in the pretense of afternoon tea, Ian was showcasing his skill with a bow and arrow. His target, already picked out. He was showing off, and had been goading Chris’ young aide, a warrior in training who seemed weaker compared to the seasoned soldiers. 

Even Ian’s choice of target revealed his own inadequacies as an archer, highlighting how pathetic his skills truly were.

The Elysium Prince’s taunts were laced with condescension and veiled threats, masking his unchecked power with laughter and mockery. Sienna, watched in silence, troubled by Ian’s behavior, while Y/N struggled to contain her anger at the blatant injustice. 

The foreign warrior prince and his guard watched in disbelief as the scene unfolded. 

   “Usually, a bow and arrow are used to protect people. But here, the traditions seem different,” Chris remarked, his anger barely concealed behind a veneer of calm.

Ian’s expression soured. “Don’t be such a downer. He’s just an attendant.” He retorted nonchalantly, his dismissive tone making Chris’ gaze narrow.

   “Then use me as the target. He’s just my attendant after all.” Chris challenged, aware that Ian would never risk breaching the peace agreement by aiming at him. 

If Ian dared and attempted to draw an arrow at him, Minho or Han would intervene before he could react. Han’s fingers hovered over the hilt of his sword, ready to act.

Sienna gripped Y/N’s hand tightly, her face a mask of fear and worry as the sudden tension mounted. A silence fell between the two crown princes until Ian grunted in concession.

   “Fine then.” He said, scanning the area and locking eyes with a young attendant among his own servants. “You, get over here.”

Another young boy froze, wide-eyed and trembling. This time the second princess couldn’t hold her tongue, unable to stay silent any longer. Slowly, she made her way to the two young men, her legs moving on their own. Sienna watched with a look of concern, hoping her justice-driven sister wouldn’t act recklessly.

   “Brother, you shouldn’t cause such a scene.” Y/N finally interjected, her voice steady despite the palpable tension. 

   “The Nightshade Prince doesn’t seem comfortable with this game.”

Ian’s eyes flashed with irritation at Y/N’s interruption. He glanced at Sienna and then at the second princess, who seemed to be forgetting her place. 

The Elysium crown prince laughed, his tone mocking. 

   “Fine then, why don’t you play with me, my dear sister?”

Y/N stiffened, suddenly caught off guard by the Prince’s audacity. Sienna stood up, shocked by his words, while Chris wondered if such behavior was common among the royals here. 

And they called his country barbaric.

   “Surely you’re not serious?” Sienna exclaimed, horror evident as she looked between her siblings.

   “It’s just a friendly game between siblings.” Ian taunted with a sinister grin. “Isn’t it?”

   “I accept your challenge.” Y/N declared firmly, though her hands trembled as she clutched her dress.

   “Princess Y/N, you don’t have to.” Chris finally interjected, stepping forward. 

   “Ian, this isn’t necessary.” He said, his voice calm but firm.

Nothing about this situation was sane. Even the second princess, who Chris thought would be level headed, proved to be prideful and stubborn.

But Y/N, with a boldness that surprised even herself, stood her ground. 

   “It’s just a friendly game between siblings.” She insisted, her gaze unwavering despite knowing the potential consequences of defiance.

Chris glanced around the courtyard, his eyes narrowing as he observed the absurdity unfolding before him. 

Prince Ian, standing with a bow in hand and a smirk on his face that exuded arrogance. While Princess Y/N, stood a few paces away, appeared both defiant and uncomfortable. 

Han stood frozen, shock evident on his face as he exchanged glances with his frustrated Prince.

   “You’re too short. Place it on your shoulder.” Prince Ian taunted, gesturing toward the apple in Y/N’s slightly trembling hands. 

The stubborn princess straightened her back, determination in her gaze. With a forced smile, she placed the apple on her shoulder, trying to balance it as best she could.

Ian smirked triumphantly, drawing the bowstring taut. The tension in the air was palpable as everyone held their breath, acutely aware of Ian’s skill with a bow but also the wrongness of the situation. 

Chris felt a surge of anger. His patience snapping as he glared at Prince Ian.

   “This must be a joke.” Chris muttered, shifting his gaze between Ian and the silent Sienna, who refused to meet his eyes.

   “Prince Ian, this is not—” 

The arrow sliced through the air, cutting his words short before striking the apple cleanly and embedding itself into the tree behind Y/N. The second princess flinched. A sudden yelp escaped her lips as her hand instinctively went to her shoulder where the arrow had grazed her skin.

   “You distracted me, Prince Christopher.” Ian snapped, sucking his teeth, lowering his bow and turning a challenging glare towards Chris.

   “Y/N!” Sienna’s voice erupted amidst the tension.

Chris took a step forward, frustration simmering beneath the surface. 

   “This wasn’t a jest, Ian. You could have seriously hurt her.”

Ian’s expression darkened, wounded pride evident in his retort. 

   “It was just a game.” He said dismissively, waving off Chris’ concern.

The hurt princess winced slightly as she withdrew her hand from her shoulder, revealing bloodied fingers from where the arrow had grazed her. Sienna rushed forward, concern etched on her face as she examined Y/N’s injury.

   “I-It’s just a small nick.” Y/N assured her sister with a strained smile, though her discomfort was clear. 

Sienna bit her lip, suddenly unsure of how to address the situation in front of the guests, in front of the servants and the foreign attendants, not wanting to escalate matters.

   “Tsk. The sight of blood has fouled my mood.” Ian grumbled, setting down his bow with evident annoyance, while Chris shot him a frustrated look.

   “You’re just a guest here, Christopher. Don’t overstep your bounds.” Ian’s tone was laced with irritation.

The Warrior Prince clenched his jaw, fists tightening at his sides. He had respected Ian as a prince and a future leader of Elysium, but in that moment, he saw only a bully hiding behind his title.

The Crown Prince made a swift exit, leaving his sister to handle the aftermath.

Chris stood in his own silence after the Prince’s quick return. Inhaling sharply as he crossed his arms against his chest and took slow, deliberate steps towards the princesses. 

   “So this was the ‘friendly game’ between siblings?” He raised an eyebrow, disappointment and frustration clear in his eyes as he looked at Sienna, who had done nothing to prevent the situation.

He had expected at least her to say something. Even if both her siblings appeared to be insane, Sienna should have said something. But Chris’ gaze faltered, seeing Y/N scowl at him, even amidst her clear pain, a scowl that seemed so familiar to him now.

   “I advise you to keep these sarcastic remarks to yourself, Prince Christopher. It was nothing but a mistake.” Y/N interjected before Sienna could even begin to come up with something to say.

Chris’ gaze shifted to the injured but still defiant second princess, who took a sudden small step back under his cold scrutiny. The bravery she had shown moments ago had suddenly crumbled under his stern stare. He remained silent, looking between her faltering eyes and the hand covering her injured shoulder. She seemed vulnerable, a small bunny trembling under his gaze.

His brows narrowed, another surge of frustration and anger simmering within him. But he clenched his fist, composing himself.

   “The second princess claims to be fine. It’s just a small misunderstanding, Prince Christopher.” Sienna sighed softly, shielding her younger sister.

Chris exhaled, his gaze falling to the ground before he spoke. 

   “If Princess Sienna says so.” He finally said, his voice softening as he nodded at the first princess.

Then his eyes shifted back to the second princess, turning colder as he looked at her. 

Y/N’s chest tightened with a mix of hurt and disappointment. Chan’s disapproving look cut through her defenses, making her feel exposed and vulnerable, more so than the small nick on her shoulder ever could.

Y/N was ruining herself in his eyes, and it was a torment far worse than the physical pain. 

It didn’t feel like a simple white lie anymore. ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ to be continued.

── ask to be tagged! - @stayceebs97, @palindrome969, @tsunderelino, @solandiszale, @fixation-dump, @ellelabelle, @gaslasyttune, @qwonyoung23, @minh0scat, @candyquokka

[alexagirlie]

"Figure You Out - Part One" - Sihtric x Whore!Reader x Finan

A/N my first reader fic for The Last Kingdom fandom! Still got to have both my boys though :) Part two is HERE

Summary: Finan decides that Sihtric needs to learn how to please a woman. He takes him to see a brothel worker and is then convinced to join in!

TW: Whore reader. Virgin Sihtric. Ladies man Finan. Light dom reader. Light fem dom. Oral sex (f recieving). Fingering (f recieving). Implied m/m. Finan is a hands on teacher. Multiple orgasms.

Word count: 1,702

Taglist: @gemini-mama @valeskafics

It had been a slow evening in the Inn when you were approached by a tall, dark haired man you recognized as one of Lord Uhtred's top warriors, Finan you thought his name was. The smirking Irishman pressed a handful of coins into your hands, enough to pay for the whole night and then some. 

“The lad needs to learn how to properly please a woman.” Finan said while nodding his head at a younger man at his back. He flashed you a wink before he reached back and dragged the other warrior forward. 

You gave the lad a once over, please by what you saw. He was of a height with Finan but slimmer in the shoulders, with well muscled arms which he bared with a sleeveless tunic. He was clearly a Dane, with his hair pulled back in braids across the top of his head and the pewter hammer hanging around his neck, but you didn't mind. He looked up at you through his eyes and you glimpsed the most beautiful set of eyes you had ever seen. His right eye was a warm brown while his left eye was a pale blue, they shone with nervousness but you could see the excitement peaking through.

“Will you be joining us to ensure he is adequately taught?” You teased looking back at the dark haired Irishman, not at all put off by the idea of having them both. Finan had a reputation of treating the girls well and virgins were usually so much fun to play with. It didn't hurt that the young Dane was exceptionally beautiful and you knew you would enjoy the experience of teaching him.

Sihtric could feel your gaze burning into the flushed skin of his face as the two men shared a look. He wasn't repulsed by the idea of Finan accompanying them, of the older man watching, helping, Sihtric had approached him for advice after all. A  silent conversation passed between them, an arch of Finan brown in question before the young Dane nodded his consent with a shrug. 

Sihtric ignored how the heat already coiled in his gut burned brighter as Finan flashed him a cheeky wink before the Irishman turned to look back at you. “Yeah alright, gotta make sure he does it properly, don't I?”

You reached your hand out towards Sihtric and after a moment's hesitation he took it in his, mindful of how soft and delicate your hand felt in his, rough with scars and years of handling a weapon. You smiled encouragingly at him before you introduced yourself and asked for his name. 

“I'm Sihtric, miss,” he answered, voice soft and gentle as he met your gaze shyly. 

You were the most beautiful woman Sihtric had ever laid eyes on. Your hair was tied back away from your face with a few stands loose to dance around your shoulders. Your dress hugged your form perfectly and left little to the imagination, pushing your breasts up and he couldn't help but think they would be the perfect handful.

But his favourite feature had to be your eyes. Your eyes were bright and expressive with long lashes that framed them perfectly, shining with mischief as you led the two men up the stairs to your room.

He couldn't stop his mouth from hanging open as you unlaced your bodice and exposed your breasts to their hungry eyes before you pulled your overdress over your head and dropped it in a heap on the floor before sitting on the edge of the bed. You leaned back on your hands and enjoyed having their undivided attention. You loved bringing men to their knees.

You tapped a foot on the floor. “On your knees boys.”

You watched with hooded eyes as Sihtric knelt on the floor with barely restrained eagerness, Finan close behind but with much more poise. You knew this was not the first time the Irishman had found himself on his knees in the bedroom. The other girl always had lots of stories about Uhtred's second in command, that he was a very giving lover and, if the stories were true, incredibly talented with his mouth. 

Your core throbbed and you grew wet at the thought of putting that mouth to use but tonight was about the young Dane currently crawling his way between your spread legs. His inexperience was obvious as he began pressing sweet, hesitant kisses up the skin of your inner thigh, long fingers shaking as they worked your underdress up inch by inch as he went. 

By the time he had worked your dress up around your waist you were soaked, your cunt and inner thighs slick with the proof of your arousal. 

Confronted with the sight of your wet cunt the young Dane lost his nerve and looked over his shoulder at his friend for assistance. Finan pressed himself to Sihtric's back and hooked his chin over the Dane's shoulder. 

“What a pretty sight” He growled, his eyes were dark, pupils blown with arousal as they moved over your exposed flesh. 

You licked your lower lip slowly and flashed him a smirk when his gaze met yours. You cocked an eyebrow in challenge, taunting the Irishman to show what he knows.

The older man's brow furrowed before he wrapped himself tighter around the younger man and began his lesson. “Just gotta touch her a little, warm her up for yer cock.” He told the younger man, reaching out with one hand to demonstrate.

You threw your head back with a gasp as two thick fingers slid through your soaking folds, gathering the wetness there and using it to slick the way for him to push them inside you. You opened for him so easy, with a breathless moan as the stretch relieved the ache that had begun to throb through your core. They way they moved together, pressing against your inner walls perfectly, brushing against that spot inside you that made you see stars.

Finan curled his fingers inside so they pressed harder against that perfect spot and your mouth feel open on a whine. His thumb rubbed slow circles around your nub, the pleasure building heat in your core, stroking the flames higher and higher. You were so wet and dripping that his fingers made a wet squelching sound each time he pulled them back to the tip before he plunged them back between your folds. You were moaning continuously when Finan pulled his hand away and you whined at the momentary pause in your pleasure. 

He chuckled deeply as he grabbed one of Sihtric's hands and guided it between your trembling thighs to take his place. “Your turn, boy.”

The way Finan kept himself wrapped around Sihtric made for a very enticing sight and you wondered what they would look like wrapped up together, bare of their armour and clothing, their battle hardened bodies pressed together. The picture in your mind and the way Sihtric worked between your thighs, just as Finan had shown him, unexpectedly pushed you to what you knew would only be the first orgasm of the night.

You lost all strength in your arms and found yourself fully on your back as you shuddered and moaned as Sihtric diligently kept his fingers thrusting inside of you at Finan's insistence. Drawing your pleasure out until you were reduced to a trembling, whining mess.

You had barely come down or caught your breath when Finan gave his next command to the young Dane. 

“Give her cunt a kiss,” he commanded the other man, guiding him down with a hand on the back of Sihtric's head.

Sihtric didn't hesitate to get his mouth on you, soft and sweet at first, with gentle kisses and soft licks as he tasted your release, cleaning some of the slick from your inner thighs and between your folds. He groaned against your skin and doubled down, attacking you with lips and tongue. He was a natural as he licked and sucked, devouring your cunt like he was a man starving. Finan whispered advice from over his back, voice deep and raspy with his arousal. 

You struggled to push yourself back upright on your elbows so you didn't miss a single moment. You watched as Sihtric pressed his arse back against the hard line of the Irishman's cock, the lad whining desperately against your cunt when he was confronted with the proof of his friend's arousal. You smirked at how clearly the poor boy wanted to get fucked. An idea formed in your mind, one you hoped you could sweet talk the two men into.

Your mind wiped clean as Sihtric sunk two fingers back into your dripping wet core and crooked them just right. No matter how his body begged for his friend he stayed focused on you and kept his mouth working on your core, making the pleasure build again. You gasped out encouragement and praise until you peaked a second time with a drawn out moan, head thrown back and shuddering as he kept lapping at you, soft and wet, drinking down your release until you pushed his head away with a breathless laugh.

Both men slid back on their heels and gave you space to recouver this time, which you needed as you found yourself sprawled on your back again with your whole body weak and trembling from the strength of your second orgasm. 

You panted up at your ceiling as your heart rate slowed and you collected yourself. As fast a learner as the Dane was proving to be you still had knowledge to impart.

You rolled yourself over onto your hands and knees and crawled further up the bed, giving your arse a good shake for good measure, feeling both sets of eyes on you.

“Take your clothes off Sihtric,'' you commanded over your shoulder and smiled as the man was quick to obey, revealing a lithe, well muscled body, spotted with the occasional scar, signs of his life as a warrior. You pulled your underdress over your head, baring yourself complerely to the two warriors before you settled yourself on your back against the pillows and spread your legs invitingly. “Come here.”