Rsn_17



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  1. Public Bookmark *

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    You hear a lot of names in the streets. If you’re smart, you remember them.

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    43,475
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  2. Public Bookmark *

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    On rare occasions, Kephale's unyielding dawn casts an intense blanket of heat over the city of Okhema.

    It's on such a day that Phainon and Mydei find themselves partaking in a routine sparring session in the midst of a brutal heat wave.

    The issue?

    Phainon just can't seem to keep his eyes - nor his hands - to himself, especially after he glimpses a wreath of flowers in Mydei's possession. Because a flower wreath is a sign of courting, a sign that someone is attempting to court the Crown Prince of Kremnos.

    And that someone is not him.

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  3. Public Bookmark *

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    “That’s our prince,” Krateros calls out proudly, amid the other soldiers’ cheers and hoots. “The finest example of Kremnoan stoicism and pride. Take note, citizens.”

    Phainon wants to scream. Stoicism? Does Krateros know how much his dear liege and pseudo-nephew-figure really wants said stoicism to be obliterated by Phainon’s cock, sometimes multiple times a day? In public, even?

    Phainon accidentally gets cursed to read Mydei's mind. This shouldn't be a problem considering how well he knows the man, except. Mydei has many explicit fantasies. Namely, about him. Phainon is in over his head.

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  4. Public Bookmark *

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    “Mydei, I think I remember what else Anaxa and Hyacine said about these mushrooms.” There’s a tremble to his voice—barely there, but enough to hook something deep in Mydei’s spine and drag it taut. "These....these mushrooms, they’re also a very potent aphrodisiac.”

    “...How…how potent?”

    Phainon swallows thickly. “Potent like one bite is enough to leave you, well, aroused, for hours…”

    Mydei stares down at the four stems of the mushrooms he’d devoured, then lets his gaze fall back to Phainon’s five.

    Fucked. They are so fucked.

    Or, in which Mydei and Phainon accidentally ingest a powerful aphrodisiac, and the only way to break its effects is to fuck each other.

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    Phainon’s scent continues to devolve, once a lush spring meadow now the ashen remnants of a battlefield. Mydei’s lips curl. Soon. He only needs to push Phainon a little more until his sunny persona crumbles and reveals the true Deliverer hidden beneath.

    Oh, how he wants Phainon to ruin him. It’s coming. He can practically taste it. The air grows thick with deep, smoky pheromones—a hallmark of an angry alpha nearing rut.

    In which Mydei rage-baits Phainon, gets drilled into the mattress, and unlocks a new breeding kink. All in that order.

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