uhmani | TDM #13

If the main hub and its features don't appeal to you, that's perfectly fine. This is the perfect time to configure your Digitized Technical Friend or your DTF status. A DTF is similar to a dæmon from His Dark Materials in that it is connected to and a reflection of a character's soul. These DTFs take shape accordingly and are projections similar to the NPCs. Think of them as your own personal Clippy except less annoying. Hopefully.

Once that's set-up, there are other locations of the main hub to investigate! You can visit the training grounds, music lounge, library, and onsen. Also, feel free to leave an offering for the resident deity of sleep (Hypnos) at his shrine! You can even visit The Peacekeeper themselves on the second floor. They're always happy to have visitors! They're also conveniently where you might place a complaint about that status of the main hub and its amenities. Even if you do complain, The Peacekeeper will encourage others to set off and find their own place to live out in the simulation.

Granted, the housing market in the afterlife isn't exactly robust. It doesn't help that every place you find has a leaky roof or broken window. No, unfortunately, that will need to be fixed the peaceful way. If you'd like more lighting or even cozier clothes, simulation inhabitants are reminded that 'peaceful interactions' are very important!

It might be a good idea to stick close to someone you know, for now, since even the smallest amounts of intimacy might see subtle changes occurring where they're staying. Perhaps that broken window is now fixed, the grime and dust seem a little less, or the floor doesn't creak quite as loud.

Larger changes, however, will only come after demonstrating more powerful peaceful interactions. If you want new hardwood floors or a fresh coat of paint on the walls, you're going to have to demonstrate how well you 'get along' with others against them first.

BASKETS OF PEACE

"Hello, inhabitants," speaks The Peaceekeper, "have you had a check-up recently? While we don't have to worry about disease here in Amani, your sexual health is still important in so many other ways!" It was recently suggested that perhaps they haven't been the most mindful in terms of encouraging inhabitants to have healthier sexual habits. No time like the present to work on correcting that oversight though.

How? With a gift basket, of course!

Each inhabitant - either new or established - will receive a gift basket full of fun things to try. Each one includes (but is not limited to):

Have some kinky fun! Enjoy yourselves! Don't be afraid to ask your fellow inhabitants either about the contents of the basket if you aren't sure. This is what being peaceful should be all about.

TRIPPING OVER TROPES

Due to the influence of Dirk Strider and Rose Lalonde both, The Peacekeeper has learned about an interesting phenomenon known as 'fanfiction.' It has studied the topic intensely for the last couple of days to try and learn more about its literary significance amongst the multiverse. It is an interesting insight in some of the inhabitants' cultures and what 'tropes' appear to be more common depending on the circumstances.

Unfortunately, such an influx of information sees the AI running Amani a bit more distracted than usual. The simulation - at least for a few days - is a bit more prone to glitches as a result. Only these aren't the usual ones like a hole in reality someone falls through and ends up somewhere unexpected.

No, these ones are as if the NPCs and inhabitants both residing in the simulation are having their pathways forcibly rewritten. It isn't very obvious, at first. Perhaps you're feeling a bit clumsier than usual and need to chase after a rogue piece of paper carrying on the wind that leads you running right into your current crush. Or maybe something gets unexpectedly spilled on you and the person you like is suddenly offering the shirt off their back (and leaving them shirtless, of course) even if it's out of character.

Finally, inhabitants might really start to catch on when whatever dwelling they enter there is only one bed. Have roommates? Too bad, looks like you might have to share for a bit! Oh, no, how unfortunate... However do you think this scenario will end? The Peacekeeper knows since, well, it's the one unwittingly writing inhabitants into these romance trope scenarios.

Thankfully, it will snap back to 'reality' within a few day's time having learned that, as with most good things, fanfiction should be taken in with moderation in mind.

FRUITS OF FALL

Last year, there was an emphasis on apples but there are plenty of other common fruits to be found growing throughout Amani. Due to The Peacekeeper learning about tropes though, some of them will have a temporary effect in that vein on any inhabitant who eats them.

And what are those effects, exactly? Well...

Pomegrante

malleable

new sliding scales

Blackberries

personality flip on its head

Peaches

swap kinks

Grapes

shared experience

swapping bodies and all that means

SEXY STAMP CARD

If you're wondering about these 'peaceful interactions' that keep being mentioned or what the kinks of the month are for... Here's your answer! Upon arrival, all characters will receive a digital copy of their very own sexy stamp card.

Sexy Stamp Card

Issued by: The Peacekeeper

1 2 3 4 ♡

6 7 8 9 ♡

❤

<div style="width:100%;padding:10px 10px 0;font-family:garamond, georgia, serif;font-size:20px;font-style:italic;letter-spacing:2px;text-align:left;">Sexy Stamp Card</div>
<div style="width:100%;padding:0 10px 10px;">Issued by: The Peacekeeper</div>

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<div style="max-width:300px;width:100%;margin:-10px auto 0;text-align:right;font-size:10px;"><a title="code credit!" href="http://10billionghosts.dreamwidth.org" style="text-decoration:none;color:#eee;">❤</a></div>

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Completing peaceful interactions (i.e. kinks) will reward characters with stamps that they can turn in for re-gains and many other things! While the example one here is the standard issued card by The Peacekeeper, players are more than welcome to customize it how they see fit. Have fun with it! NOTES

★ *While this effect of the gender sliding scale will be opt-in entirely and only temporary, it is a feature that inhabitants can purchase in the future with stamps if they'd like!

★ We are currently at 30/40 slots taken! Anyone wishing to claim a character must have an invite from someone currently in the game and follow the proper rules in place to be accepted into the community!

NAVIGATION

F.A.Q. ★ RULES ★ CHARACTER CLAIM ★ LOCATIONS ★ MAIN NAVIGATION

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"An unwilling vessel." He almost sounds amused by that, but he doesn't expand upon it. This is all rather intriguing, and valuable in its own right. That Noct would share so freely with someone he seemed content to imply as his enemy is also an interesting data point. It would seem he's a lot more bark than bite, as is often the case with men like Noctis, he finds.

Most would see it as a strength, but Barnabas sees it for what it truly is.

"He would release men of their will with this affliction. Fascinating." Now that's interesting. Idly he wonders if this is some form of the Akashic. He would not name being Akashic a disease, though. His expression shifts from something almost thoughtful, to the vague scowl it usually is. At least in this context he looks like he's assessing something about Noctis.

Certainly nothing he would want Barnabas to assess.

"Though, we shall put this chatter to rest for now. I can scarce imagine how distracting it must be for you, dripping with arousal as you are." As he says this, his gaze flicks downwards toward's Noctis'—or Rosie's—groin, before returning to catch Noctis' gaze with his again. His intent rather clear.

Noctis has never been one to keep secrets. For one thing, he's so used to the whole world being privy to every little thing he does and says that he's long since given up pretending to have any privacy. For another, he isn't exactly known for his ability to think before he talks or acts. And for a third, he has grown to hate secrets on principle, after so much was kept from him for so long - and still is, he's sure.

So it doesn't even occur to him that Barnabas could do much of anything with information like this about Eos. It's stuff everybody knows at this point anyway, back home, and it's not like Ardyn didn't advertise himself as the sketchy daemonic drug-dealing hobo when he first got here.

...and aside from all that, Barnabas is right that he's distracted by Rosie's damn libido.

But not so distracted he doesn't notice the way Barnabas phrased that. He scowls slightly. "'Release'? Not how I'd put it. Or how anyone would put it. What's wrong with--"

Oh, shit. "What?" Rosie's face turns a remarkable shade of pink. How the hell did Barnabas notice that?? "I - no, I'm not."

Another reason Noctis tends not to keep secrets: he's a terrible liar.

In contrast, misinformation, obfuscation, and lies have been Barnabas' bread and butter. Not that he had always been that way, but life has a way of changing you, and sometimes for the worst. Thus he has kept most everything private, revealing only what is strictly necessary, or what might be enough of a seed to plant in someone for a result he wanted to cultivate. If people were plants, he would be their gardener, maintaining everything as it needs to be to get the exact yield he wants.

Just as he's been doing this whole exchange with Noctis. Little touches of intimacy to plant that which begs to be seeded, but not enough to make him fully retreat. One cannot over-till the soil, after all. Meanwhile, he's garnered himself some useful bits of information that he will pursue further. Not now, of course, for now, he is interested in this King of Kings.

For now he won't touch further on the conversation of wills and men being released of them. He's said enough on that front as is, and he knows it will earn him no favors if he goes any deeper into it at present. Thus he focuses on that which leaves Noctis feeling exposed and vulnerable. As he regards him—glancing over that body he's borrowing. Unfolding his arms, he brings a loosely curled hand to not only catch his chin, but to tilt his head to look at him.

"You truly thought I would not notice the titillation exuding from you? Any man worthy of the name would catch the sweet scent of it." His dark eyes seek Noctis' own as he gazes down at him, though he removes the hand from his chin to swiftly curl it around Noctis' waist to pull him against his chest.

"Shall I free you from its searing burden?"

Edited 2023-10-04 07:45 (UTC)

Noctis never had any real chance of outmaneuvering Barnabas here, or even catching on to the other king's subtle manipulation in the first place. He's been fooled by less, from people he knew better. Even Ardyn still takes him by surprise sometimes, and Ardyn's the least subtle manipulator in the world.

There's a part of him that wants to shove Barnabas' hand aside and warp out of here. He doesn't have to stand here and let this creepy king of darkness seduce him. In fact, he probably shouldn't.

But he's pretty sure he's gonna. Actually, he's starting to think maybe he already did. Despite what one might think, considering he's dating Ardyn, no one has ever pulled this kind of stunt with Noctis before. No one's ever been this kind of inevitable, magnetic force of lust with him. And Noctis reacts poorly to others trying to assert their authority over him, but Barnabas hasn't even really done that. He hasn't had to.

So Noctis doesn't stop Barnabas from tilting Rosie's chin up to meet his eyes with her warm, brown ones. All this talk of titillation makes Rosie's face blush hotter, and Barnabas pulling him close to that sculpted chest of his only makes it worse.

"Uh..." Yeah, it's way too late to pretend. The heat pulsing between Rosie's legs demands attention and for better or worse, Noctis wants it from Barnabas Tharmr.

"...sure, go for it."

The muted delivery of the permission granted is almost amusing. Were Barnabas capable of being endeared to others, he might name it that. As it stands, however, he is as warm to Noctis as he was before even knowing of his existence, which is to say not at all. What he has gained from this is cold facts, devoid of attachment or the shackles of bonding. Though, he won't deny that in this realm there is a benefit to these interactions, to playing the part of a lover to people he otherwise sees little personal value in. Sex means stamps, and stamps means power, and he would be a fool to not play the game for what it is, until he can break it.

"Very well."

With Noctis' agreement, however, that leaves him to decide where to lay claim to him. Certainly he has no qualms over the impropriety of their current location, nor does most of the inhabitants seem to mind such either. Yet, there is a need to keep Noctis interested, and while his desire is raw and wafting through the air, it is key to lay the groundwork. Thus do those teleportation magics kick up again, and with Noctis in tow does he transport them. The mist that encompasses them dissipates almost as quickly as it enshrouded them, their transitional shift in location so instantaneous, that the sway of the ground beneath them will probably be far more disorienting than the warping itself.

Noctis will find himself still steadily held against Barnabas, but instead of being outdoors, they are in what appears to be the captain's quarters on a galleon—should Noctis even know what that looks like. However, it is far more sparse than one might assume for a living space. In fact, there seems to be mostly a lone chair that is facing the backdrop of windows, one of a fitting style for a king as Barnabas claims himself to be, otherwise the quarters are achingly empty.

There is nothing that would tell Noctis more about Barnabas in this room, nothing characteristic to it, nothing particularly unique or personable. Nothing that speaks of hobbies, of his joys, of even art or clutter. Though, perhaps this in itself speaks deeply about him as a man—a yawning chasm, a sprawling abyss where something should be, but isn't.

Well, besides the bed. The rather large bed, one that could fit far more than a single pair of people. This is where Barnabas aims to steer Noctis, even before he might have his wits about him with the sway of the ship. This is on purpose. How easily it oft proves to be to persuade one's body to give into the descent to the bed when they have not claimed their balance. How much more enticing it is to stay where you might feel stable, than to stand like a fawn on wobbly legs flirting with the chance to fall. There is security in accepting the control he provides, in submitting to it, and he would see if Noctis will do just that.

Edited 2023-10-04 19:58 (UTC)

Noctis watches the magic rather than Barnabas once it begins again. As a fellow king with various powers of spatial displacement, but of the exact opposite nature, he can't help a bit of curiosity.

There isn't all that much to watch, though, in the end. When the mist vanishes, Barnabas may be surprised to find that Noctis adjusts to the sway of the deck easily, used to spending long periods of time on the ocean even if the boat he's most familiar with has no sails.

He glances around the room - no, the cabin, and despite its archaic design, Noctis recognizes it for what it is, and his face lights up. "Whoa, a ship!" Despite the steering, he turns from Barnabas in an attempt to walk over to the windows and peer out. "This is sick. I've been thinking about bringing my boat here, too. For fishing trips - hey, do you fish?"

It's when he turns back to look at Barnabas as he asks that question that he notices the relative emptiness of the room. He glances down at what could reasonably called a throne, then around at the plentitude of bare space. Looks like Barnabas probably doesn't live on his ship full-time. Maybe he just likes fucking out at sea? Noctis wouldn't blame him.

With Noctis utterly possessed of his bearings and seemingly excited about where they are, or rather what they're in, Barnabas can only watch him with an impassive stare. Especially as he steers away from where he had attempted to lead him in order to examine the room, what little there is within it. Barnabas must make a lonely visual, standing there in a room so hollow, looking nearly as hollow as it when Noctis' attention is back on him. His lifeless stare meeting Noctis' excited one, but he doesn't stir much at all, only his brow furrowing slightly more than before.

"One can scarce claim to be a sailor without knowing how to fish." He answers plainly, though he lacks any such enthusiasm in his voice for the activity that Noctis seems to carry. In truth, perhaps long ago it was something he might have pursued with better interest than he holds for it now, but like so much else that interest eroded away, and with it any joy it brought him.

"Indeed, you are aboard the Einherjar, my royal galleon. I had not expected you to be a fisherman, nor less a sailor in your own right." For all the lack of enthusiasm in his voice, he's still talking about this subject. Maybe it has a kernel of something in him, a speck of interest that persists. As he talks, he stays put where Noctis has left him, making no move to collect his fellow king. Not yet, anyway.

"What did you name her—your boat?"

"Yeah, you know how to fish - but do you enjoy it?" Noctis turns to look over the ocean out the window, setting a hand on his hip. "Man, I love fishing. I could do it aaaall day."

He glances up at what he can see of the exterior of the ship from here. "Royal galleon, hell yeah." He shrugs. "It's...well, it's more than a hobby, but obviously 'king' is a full-time job, so I just do it whenever I can."

This encounter has gotten a little surreal, he has to admit. Barnabas has gone from mysterious aggressor to potential enemy to seducer to fellow sailor in the span of maybe ten minutes. Noctis really isn't sure what to make of the guy so far, on the whole, but it's not like he's in any hurry to leave.

"Ah, I didn't name her - my father did. The royal vessel, Lumina Maris. Nowhere near as huge as your ship - she's a motor yacht, built for recreation and quick journeys. But I've spent a looot of time on that boat." His tone is fond. It doesn't seem to have occurred to him yet that he's straying pretty far from the whole reason Barnabas brought him here to begin with. Not like Rosie's body has eased up on the desire any, Noctis is just...distracted at the moment.

"I do not hate it." Which is about as good as it gets with ol' Barney, or so Cid would probably inform Noctis were he here. He would also probably tell Noctis to get the fuck off this ship and not fuck the man either, but he can't and he won't, because blissfully Cidolfus doesn't know about the Einherjar. Instead, Noctis is here, alone with Barnabas, talking about fishing and boats.

There's weirder things that could be happening.

As Noctis goes on about fishing and the boat, he seems to be listening, though it's hard to know how much he's really taking in at any given time when someone is talking. The intensity of his stares never really lessen, nor do his expression shift beyond the gloomy or unaffected—except when Noctis mentions his father. That seems to get his attention, though he does not speak on it.

In fact, he doesn't speak at all, merely allows this silent moment of fond regard for a parent and their inherited gifts to play out as long as it is needed. He knows not the relationship, nor if Noctis' father is still alive, but either way he doubts the man is here. That is its own separation. Barnabas' empathy in most things died out long ago, but on this matter... well, it's an exception.

However, all he has to offer is silence, even if he wanted to reach out on this matter, he wouldn't. Couldn't. Simply won't. It is far too vulnerable, and as he well knows, any chip in one's armor means certain death.

Edited 2023-10-05 08:06 (UTC)

Considering the little Noctis knows about Barnabas, he can take a guess that 'I do not hate it' is more or less a positive response. "Well, if you ever get the urge to fish here, I can tell you it's well worth your time. There are fish from every world we've ever had anyone come here from, so there's always something new to catch."

Barnabas' silence is a little unnerving, but Noctis catches the moment when a sudden flicker of interest passes over his face. He's not about to pry, but he'll keep it in mind.

Then Noctis runs out of things to say, and more silence fills the empty space between them. He shifts to perch on the arm of the chair, arms folded and sitting in an entirely too masculine fashion for the short skirt he's wearing, as he gazes out the window at the waves. Ordinarily, their rocking and constant sussurus would threaten to lull him to sleep, but in Rosie's body he has so much more energy than he's ever had in his life. For the first time in a long time, he isn't tired at all.

As the silence grows thick with awkwardness, and Noctis takes a seat on Barnabas' throne-like chair, he finds it time to once more act. With silent strides he crosses that distance made between them, standing to the side of him. His gaze lingering on Noctis as he stares out at the sea. For a moment, his gaze is likewise cast to the waters and the waves, watching as they crash unfailingly upon each other, and he contemplates the inevitability of man's betrayal to one another.

"We did not come here to speak of fish and sailing, nor less to quietly stare at the sea." He says, finally breaking the silence. "Unless your interest has waned."

As he says that, his eyes return to looking at Noctis, his hand firmly cupping his cheek to turn his head to look up at him. Firmly, but not in a way that denotes true aggression, simply directness. For Barnabas' part, his other arm rests upon the back of the throne, his weight leaning on it as he looms over Noctis like a shadow.

Edited 2023-10-05 16:15 (UTC)

Barnabas moves closer again and Noctis is reminded then that Rosie has a canine sense of smell - as silent as Barnabas is, Noctis can tell he's getting closer, here in the other king's quarters where there are few other scents around to distract. The slight perfume scent blended in is interesting, but Noctis has no real context for what women's perfume smells like vs. men's cologne, so he doesn't clock it as strange - well, except the fact that Barnabas is wearing such a thing at all, though if he goes around seducing people all the time...

The scent getting stronger works in Barnabas' favor, distracting Noctis' attention away from the sea and the ship in time for his...reminder. The firm touch that pulls his eyes back to meet Barnabas' gaze again and the way he leans over Noctis bring the heat blossoming right back to the surface. Noctis closes his legs.

"Nothing wrong with a little conversation, but uh...no, no waning here."

He's so unused to being the one to initiate intimacy that it doesn't yet occur to him that he could be leveraging Rosie's hotness to take some control of the situation.

Even were Noctis to ask about the scent he would not receive an answer. If anything, he might be treated as if he's simply imagining a smell, or just outright ignored on the topic entirely. So really, it's for the best that Noctis says nothing about it, and keeps his conclusions to what they are. Sure, he does it to seduce people, that's what it is.

"Good." He says in a tone that almost sounds praising, if it weren't for the muted affect on his voice otherwise.

The shift of Noctis closing his spread legs is the confirmation he needs, even more than the words, that his interest is still there. Thus he leans in, shrinking that distance between them to capture the younger king's borrowed lips with his own. Little does Noctis need to try to use Rosie's natural attractiveness and charm to allure Barnabas—mostly because such does not work on a man such as him. If he decides he will sleep with someone, then that is what will happen, nothing really will sway him one way or another on the matter. He is not a man who can be seduced in any normal way, unfortunately.

However, should Noctis kiss him back (or even if he doesn't), that hand on his cheek will trail its fingers down his neck, a suspiciously firm press of his finger tips as they travel across his throat, but they do not grasp him there at least. A flirtatious sort of threat, should one take it as that. Some might find the gesture sensual and exciting. His hand will continue to travel, running down the length of Noctis' arm, before taking hold of his wrist. Directing his hand to touch him, placing it on the front ties of his shirt, the suggestion plain as the kiss is fresh on Noctis' lips.

It's just as well, really, that there would be no point in trying to counter-seduce Barnabas, because Noctis would not be very good at it anyway.

He does kiss back - in fact, he's pleased that Barnabas started with kissing at all. He'd half-thought the other king might be businesslike enough to skip foreplay altogether. Which would have been fine, under the circumstances, but this is much better.

There was a time when that suggestion of more pressure at his throat would have been alarming enough to jar Noctis out of the experience, but he has enough familiarity now with breathplay that he mostly does find it sensual and exciting - something Barnabas may notice in the slight uptick of Noctis' pulse under his fingers, although he may also interpret it another way. There's also a faint bit of concern, considering this guy is a stranger and an enemy to people Noctis rather likes, but ultimately he's confident enough in his own abilities not to worry too much.

Either that, or Rosie's body is reacting so strongly to everything that it's harder for Noctis to think straight. Maybe a bit of both.

The touch of Barnabas' fingers grazing Rosie's skin feels sensual, too, and Noctis takes the suggestion readily. He brings his other hand up, too, to help him undo the laces without looking at them. Whether Barnabas does or not, Noctis kisses with his - Rosie's - eyes closed. He takes the opportunity to run his own hands over the other man's impressive chest as he exposes more of it.

There's a strategy here, in playing the part of a considerate lover. For all he might not get as much enjoyment out of this as others, if he simply made this entire thing utterly devoid of some semblance of intimacy, utterly transactional, that would engender depreciation that would not serve him. Thus he has little qualms with doing a little extra to sell Noctis on an emotional rapport that isn't there. A softness that doesn't exist, nor betray any true vulnerability he might have.

As much as there might have been the thought of squeezing Noctis' throat when he felt that race of his pulse quicken under his touch, he elected otherwise for the same reason. The thought does dance in his head, his large hand gripping Rosie's slender neck and squeezing it till he could feel it collapse in on itself, till he could hear the last, desperate and futile bid for air gasped, that final choke... but he moves on, pushing the thought away in the same way one might discard innocent and idle musings.

Instead, he resumes focus on that kissing, deepening it with parting his lips and bidding Noctis to do the same all that he might claim his mouth with his tongue. His eyes are not closed, not fully, anyway. Through his lashes, he watches Noct with a half-lidded gaze as they continue. With Noctis untying his shirt, exposing more of his muscular chest and the light dusting of dark hair across it, Barnabas' own hand set out to explore.

Running down the length of his arm again, he trails it down his side, before firmly planting it on his thigh. With a pointed push, he aims to spread those thighs again, before letting his hand slip between them to feel and rub at the heat of Noctis'—or rather Rosie's—sex. He isn't urgent about it, nor impatient. In fact, he watches how Noctis reacts to the intrusion, changes how he rubs or presses based on that. Studying him for the exact response he wants.

After all, this is pointless if Noctis doesn't enjoy himself, even if at the very least physically.

Blissfully unaware of the other man's morbid daydreaming, Noctis responds easily to the deeper kiss, welcoming Barnabas in without hesitation.

A faint grunt escapes his throat when that strong hand pushes Rosie's legs apart again, but it meets no resistance. Barnabas may be pleased (but probably unsurprised) to find that his fingers are immediately covered in slick. For Noctis' part, the sensation is still so new and his arousal is so strong already that he can't help gasping into the kiss as Rosie's hips shift restlessly under the attention.

And it only gets better from there. Barnabas is not only good at this, but so responsive to Noctis' body language and wordless feedback that it doesn't take long for him to find the patterns and rhythms that coax increasingly urgent sounds from Noctis. The hands roaming the other king's chest slip up to grip Barnabas' shoulders hard, just to have something to steady him while the pleasure is making his back arch and his hips press eagerly into the touch.

If Barnabas was concerned that Noctis wouldn't physically enjoy himself, well, he's got nothing to worry about.

A slight smirk pulls at Barnabas' lips when he feels how slick he is already. The gasp against his mouth simply tells him what he needs to know: that Noctis is particularly sensitive. Whether it be through inexperience in this body, in general, or simply that's the state of Rosie's body, matters fairly little. What does matter is that he will be able to play Noctis like a fiddle, and that is what he intends to do.

Breaking the kiss, he gazes down at Noctis to watch the display of emotion and reaction play out as his fingers explore between those slick folds, As they capture that sensitive nub of flesh and rub it in the ways he's quickly learned that makes Noctis move those hips in tandem with him. He does nothing to discourage Noctis' hold on his shoulders, more than willing and capable of supporting him as he continues to fondle him like this.

In fact, it's preferable he holds on as he uses his fluid-coated fingers to press at his entrance. He feels it out with a single digit first, his middle finger. Knowing Rosie's body, it shouldn't hold much resistance to his prodding, she's more than experienced in these things. However, Noctis is at the helm and even an experienced cunt can clamp down like a vice.

Should he prove yielding to Barnabas, he will continue, thrusting that finger in and out until a second soon joins. With his thumb does he press against the clit there, using the natural wetness to rub it as he fingers him. As he does so, he feels inside for that rough, sensitive bundle of nerves, his fingers curling inside him in his pursuit.

All the while he's silently watching, adjusting the movements of his fingers and the strokes of his thumb based on Noctis' moans, expressions, and so on. He fully intends to make him come in his chair. It will be the first of many, this he's decided.

Noctis has never gone from zero to orgasm so fast in his life. That entrance is plenty welcoming to Barnabas' fingers, and their thrusting pulls a breathless "fuck" from Noctis. His head tips back, eyes once again closed, and from that point on he's fucking Barnabas' fingers just as much as they're thrusting into him. They explore and curl, and Rosie's body tenses like a bowstring and shudders, and those sounds the other king is listening for become a chant of "come on, come on, come on" in time with the bucking of Rosie's hips until Barnabas gets just what he wants - Noctis comes right there on his fingers, in his chair, clutching at his shoulders with a wanton moan.

Noctis is used to orgasms putting him down for the count for at least a little while, but he finds that this one only makes him crave more. "Hahhhha, gods...I could get used to this..."

"Then we shall continue, my dear." His voice nearly purrs. It is performative, but he is skilled with keeping up appearances when need be, like he had with Benedikta. Watching Noctis orgasm, feeling it in the palm of his hand essentially, was satisfying in a muted and distant way. There isn't so much an emotional response to it, but rather the acknowledgement that this is continuing apace as planned. Gingerly does he withdraw his fingers, holding them before himself as he spreads them apart to look at the ropes of fluid that hangs between them with a smug satisfaction. As he brings them to his lips to taste them, his eyes lock with Noctis'.

Then he places his hands on Noctis' arms, and removes them from his shoulders, standing fully and motioning for him to rise from the seat. Should he follow that instruction, he will give another, though this time verbally, "turn around, King of Kings, and hold fast my throne. Kneel in its seat, if you like, though it matters little I shall have you all the same."

Yeah, he absolutely wants to fuck Noctis right here while he clings to his throne.

If Noctis takes a moment to look at how Barnabas has been effected by all of this, well...his tight, black pants do very little to conceal the erection he's sporting. The engorged member having pressed itself to the left side of the front of his pants in need of more space to fill out, it seems. As for the man himself, he makes no effort to touch himself, nor pull his cock out yet. It seems he's mostly interested in Noctis.

Ordinarily, Noctis would protest that pet name - he is most certainly not this man's 'dear' in any way - but the purr of Barnabas' voice in the wake of that orgasm takes up more real estate in his mind than arguing over a few words, and it's soon joined by the sight of Barnabas licking Noctis' cum off his fingers, and at that point if someone were to ask Noctis what the other king had just called him, he'd probably have no idea.

Noctis stands at Barnabas' gesture, but the spoken order gives him pause. "...told you before, I kneel to no one." His protest is only partially about that, though. The other half is an irrational sort of competitive indignation at the idea of getting fucked over another king's throne before he's ever even had opportunity to sit in his own.

...and the part of him that's drowning in Rosie's libido sort of perversely wants to see what Barnabas will do if met with defiance.

So Noctis smirks up at him, after a glance at that bulge in his pants. "Ask me nicely, though, and I might bend over for you."

The stroke of defiance is an interesting change of pace, if only because he so readily was eating out of the palm of his hand before. So this King would have a spine after all. Not that he minds, if he was against a challenge he would not have taken to training the fearsome beasts he has, nor less been graced with the destiny to bring mankind to its knees for his lord. Taming a single King would be of no moment, and so this touch of defiance is but a means to keep things from becoming the typical monotonous bog that is often the case with his engagements with mankind.

"Was not leaving your gash drenched and dripping from blissful release a nice enough ask?" As he asks this, he certainly steps around so that he more fully has Noctis between him and the throne as he looks down at him. Bringing a hand to grab Noctis' jaw, he holds him there as he kisses him roughly, the suggestion of hunger behind it that almost betrays an emptiness.

However, the kiss doesn't last, seeing as he breaks it soon after, breathing out a huff through his nose while his hand releases him—only to move to his shoulder. From that hold, he aims to spin Noctis around, and with a little encouraging push, he would see him bend over as suggested.

"My - what? ...oh." A faint blush colors Rosie's cheeks. "Come on, that's not--"

Barnabas grabs him and kisses him hard, turning whatever he was about to say into a wordless, wanting sound. Dammit, why do Rosie's knees feel weak over one brief kiss?

Noctis does want Barnabas to fuck him, but the throne thing is sticking in his craw a bit, and he can't help digging his heels in just a little - literally, as he plants his feet and braces himself with one hand on the back of the throne in an attempt to stop Barnabas from spinning him around, for now.

"Man, for a king, your negotiation skills leave something to be desired." He glares up at Barnabas, mulish. "Come on, you can say 'please,' it won't kill you."

Further defiance. Very well.

Noctis' glare is met with the impassiveness of Barnabas' stare. If Noctis feels judgment in his gaze, well, he isn't entirely imagining it. He keeps his hand on Noctis' shoulder, the grip firm, though not painfully so. Just enough to show he isn't likely to be shaken off so easily, nor is he done with his own demands. Though, at present, he rubs at a spot with his thumb in a way that almost seems soothing, perhaps encouraging.

"What need you such verbal negotiations when our bodies speak plain what they inexorably yearn for?" He again purrs those words in that accent of his, his free hand placing itself near Noctis' throat, though its his fingers that touch and ghost over the skin there. The touches uncharacteristically light as they trail down his—Rosie's—form, continuing down and over a breast. Though the descent stops as he takes it in his hand after a pointed press of fingers to the nipple beneath, giving it a full-handed grope. Meanwhile, he leans in again to capture those lips with his before they can voice further protest.

Though that's not all, he slips a knee forward, between Noctis' own legs, pressing it firmly against the aforementioned drenched and dripping gash. An invitation to grind, perhaps, or maybe he's emphasizing his earlier point.

Every time Barnabas responds to Noctis' resistance with seduction instead of force, it takes Noctis off-guard. Later, he'll consider that that was probably the point, but in the moment - and especially in Rosie's body - thinking about that kind of thing isn't really Noctis' strong suit.

It does seem pretty disingenuous for Barnabas to pretend he doesn't know why Noctis is pushing back, here, but whatever - he's doing that thing with his voice again and touching Noctis and it's good, and for the moment he seems to have backed off on wanting to bend Noctis over his throne.

So he lets himself shiver at the touch of feather-light fingers, first teasing at his throat once again and then distracting him utterly with his groping - Noctis is really not used to Rosie's breasts yet. And when Barnabas kisses him to forestall any more argument, he doesn't fight it. Quite the opposite - he lets the other king deepen it as much as he wants, whimpering faintly, and his - Rosie's - own hands slip around Barnabas to grope the man's ass in a bid to pull him closer.

Barnabas takes it a step further, and the pressure of his knee between Noctis' thighs pulls an outright moan out of Rosie's throat. If he's emphasizing his earlier point, well, he's certainly driven it home now. Noctis does grind without thinking, returning that kiss with a hunger of his own as the wet heat between Rosie's legs pulses in anticipation of what comes next.

There is a time for force and a time for persuasion, sometimes there's overlap, but in this case and instance the latter is what is required for what he is after. He cannot play his hand too early, too loosely, or any seeds he attempts to plant will only find barren soil.

That Noctis whimpers into the kiss, shivers as he does to his touch, and even moves to grope at Barnabas' own ass in an attempt to bring him closer is a good sign. Even if he's aiming to assert his own Dominance and control here, this still shows him that this is working, that Noctis wants this. That his desires are as plain as the growing wet spot on his thigh. His thigh which he presses and flexes against him more as he holds his place despite Noctis attempting to bid him nearer, just allowing him to grind against it.

In fact, he seems keen to keep this up, to tease and tantalize Noctis, but not give him much else. Simply content to drive him wild with enough stimulation to keep him present—locked in the moment, incapable of escaping it—but not quite enough to get off or progress things further. If he cannot command him directly, then he will wear his will down by other means. He is a dangerously patient man, and keenly adept at ignoring his own needs even as they press aggressively against the front of his pants.

Breaking the kiss, he capture's Noctis' lower one between his teeth with pressure that threatens to be more than what it presently is as he pulls on it—stopping before it would get painful as he goes in to kiss him again, his tongue quick to follow the locking of lips. His hand, however, still groping that breast, his thumb rubbing over the pert nipple, teasing it with the pad of it over its stiffened peak.

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lucianprince - 2023-11-17 02:44 (UTC) - Expand

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

TDM #13

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cw: somewhat graphic description of imagined strangling FUCKING BARNABAS PLS

bananas...

that's his middle name

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