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Sylvan Varain
Mortal-King
- Joined
- Dec 15, 2018
- Location
- Princehome.
Kinks: D/s relationship, spankings, fairly wide control. Enthusiasm, reciprocal affection under duress. Age gap, tutor-turned-lover. A little bit of bitterness and resentment (but not that much). Large soldier fellow x young, nubile royal. Mild period accuracy (but it's still a porn prompt, so). Manhandling. Fawning and a little bit of swooning. Inexperienced submissives / maybe a little bit of internalized homophobia. Caretaker kink.
Limits: Resentment to the point of chewing up scenery. Non-consent. Hyper anything. Bad dialogue and bad prose. Anything that doesn't flow with the vibe.
All characters involved are going to be above the age of eighteen (18+).
It's a shock when he awakens in the morning without a dagger to his throat or a noose making itself comfortable around his neck. A threatening shadow from the corner of his eye looks as if it might leap at him, but it turns out to be little more than the far more real but slow-moving servant that had been allowed to him. An especially wise and old friend of his that he'd known for all his life, a blink of her own, that'd been grateful to know that she'd still be by his side even during this strange turn in his life. It's hard not to be happy about it too; her familiar face is a relief in these trying times.
The look on her face when she manages to catch his eyes quickly changes that. She'd been the one to awake him with a thud on his wall, and it was clearly to remind him that his presence was due to the master of the estate whose bed he had overslept in. It wasn't likely that he was going to get blamed for that. It'd been a long ride over, a... an especially taxing one.
A pang of pain shoots from his rump and up his spine at the thought. The blankets were a wonderful relief for the worst of it, though he'd never admit that to anybody for as long as he lived.
Not that he needed to. Her gaze turns amused, even if he feels anything but.
"The marshal is on the hill we saw when we came in, Your Majesty," she says, with the same instructor's voice she'd always used on him. "Don't keep him waiting any longer than you already have." To her credit she manages to keep her laughter to herself until she's out of eyesight. The crone.
A warm wind pushes the drapes on the window beside him. Birds. Insects. The dew of spring morning. It's enough to make him wistful.
. . .
Howdy.
I'm looking for somebody interested in a short-term smut prompt involving (YC) a deposed princeling / royal / whatever who was whisked away from the danger of capture at the hands of rebels by a long beloved and trusted marshal. Said marshal is a friend of YC's family, architect of the war waged on their behalf, and a confounding traitor who ultimately arranged for terms of surrender after laying with YC in a sunflower bed in the midst of rescuing them.
All very gushy and romantic and very annoying considering that they would later end up siding with the rebels on the understanding that YC would become their 'servant' as a way of keeping YC on a short leash.
He's a hot salt and pepper soldering type and YC is a young twink who he's yearned for for years and had a chance to fuck without much convincing being needed, and now YC belongs to them and decided that a domestic life on an idyllic plantation would do them both some good. Cue some rough sex on a sunlit hill involving a tree stump. Nothing super complicated.
Limits: Resentment to the point of chewing up scenery. Non-consent. Hyper anything. Bad dialogue and bad prose. Anything that doesn't flow with the vibe.
All characters involved are going to be above the age of eighteen (18+).
It's a shock when he awakens in the morning without a dagger to his throat or a noose making itself comfortable around his neck. A threatening shadow from the corner of his eye looks as if it might leap at him, but it turns out to be little more than the far more real but slow-moving servant that had been allowed to him. An especially wise and old friend of his that he'd known for all his life, a blink of her own, that'd been grateful to know that she'd still be by his side even during this strange turn in his life. It's hard not to be happy about it too; her familiar face is a relief in these trying times.
The look on her face when she manages to catch his eyes quickly changes that. She'd been the one to awake him with a thud on his wall, and it was clearly to remind him that his presence was due to the master of the estate whose bed he had overslept in. It wasn't likely that he was going to get blamed for that. It'd been a long ride over, a... an especially taxing one.
A pang of pain shoots from his rump and up his spine at the thought. The blankets were a wonderful relief for the worst of it, though he'd never admit that to anybody for as long as he lived.
Not that he needed to. Her gaze turns amused, even if he feels anything but.
"The marshal is on the hill we saw when we came in, Your Majesty," she says, with the same instructor's voice she'd always used on him. "Don't keep him waiting any longer than you already have." To her credit she manages to keep her laughter to herself until she's out of eyesight. The crone.
A warm wind pushes the drapes on the window beside him. Birds. Insects. The dew of spring morning. It's enough to make him wistful.
. . .
Howdy.
I'm looking for somebody interested in a short-term smut prompt involving (YC) a deposed princeling / royal / whatever who was whisked away from the danger of capture at the hands of rebels by a long beloved and trusted marshal. Said marshal is a friend of YC's family, architect of the war waged on their behalf, and a confounding traitor who ultimately arranged for terms of surrender after laying with YC in a sunflower bed in the midst of rescuing them.
All very gushy and romantic and very annoying considering that they would later end up siding with the rebels on the understanding that YC would become their 'servant' as a way of keeping YC on a short leash.
He's a hot salt and pepper soldering type and YC is a young twink who he's yearned for for years and had a chance to fuck without much convincing being needed, and now YC belongs to them and decided that a domestic life on an idyllic plantation would do them both some good. Cue some rough sex on a sunlit hill involving a tree stump. Nothing super complicated.
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