calderamemes | TDM #4

Entry tags:

!mod post,
!tdm

TDM #4

ARRIVAL

It happens in an instant. A heavy weight in your gut, a trembling of your limbs, the world spins and you barely have time to register that you're falling before you lose consciousness. And when you awaken, it's not where you were last. Dark, unadorned oak walls surround you in a tiny room, the only furniture the bed you are currently resting upon, and the bedside table with a folded piece of parchment resting atop it that simply reads:

“The Tavernkeeper is awaiting your arrival downstairs.”

As you exit you find others like yourself emerging from the surrounding rooms. You are indeed in a tavern, but there is no hustle and bustle one might think to hear in such a place. The only person down on the main floor is a humanoid figure wiping down the bar, who smiles when they see you. They're familiar, but not, and you can't quite place their face. For some reason, however, their presence is comforting and warm.

“Welcome, Visitor. I'm sure you have a lot of questions.”

And you most certainly do.

Due to popular demand, the starter tavern and the drinks provided are available to in game characters via a portal accessible only to those with a faction gem.

DRINK MENU

WINTER'S WHISPER A fragrant spiced tea that calms the nerves and inspires the drinker to share their hopes and dreams.

JINGLE BELL A crisp, bright drink...that makes jingling bell sounds as you walk. There are no bells, and yet you jingle.

S(LAY) RIDE This drink has an earthy, woody taste. Almost as woody as the tavern floor it forces you to lie down upon. You cannot get up unless someone else helps you.

MISTLETOE MEAD Made with honey from enchanted bee hives and a touch of mistletoe leaves. Time to find a smoochin' partner!

HOLLY JOLLY SPICE A bold and fiery blend of rum, cinnamon, and cloves with a secret twist—just a dash of enchanted holly berry syrup that makes your cheeks flush with warmth and your laughter contagious. One sip, and you're the life of the party, even if you're by yourself.

CANDY CANE CRUSH A festive burst of minty sweetness with a cool, refreshing sensation that tingles the tongue. The drinker’s mood subtly shifts the color of their surroundings, briefly changing the hues of objects or lights in the room to match their feelings.

GINGERBREAD MAN A thick drink that tastes exactly like a gingerbread cookie. However, candy and other delicious accents start appearing on you as if YOU were the cookie. Is that icing on your nose? Candied cherries in your hair? Gumdrop buttons? But on the bright side, free candy!

CHOOSE YOUR DESTINY

As the effects of your drink wear off, the Tavernkeeper speaks once more:

”It is time, my friends, for you to find your new homes.”

You are compelled to walk through the only door leading out of the tavern, finding yourself not outside, but in a deep black, seemingly endless room with five portals arranged in a circle. As the last of you leave and the door closes behind you, gone when you look back again and replaced with nothing but that black void, three of the portals illuminate:

The first portal is surrounded by an almost blinding light, prismatic rainbows shining brightly in the dewy air outside of the tavern. A soft breeze may gently caress you, pulling you toward it. The portal seems to lead to a city in the clouds, airships and winged beings of all sorts soaring through the skies. Of the little bits of visible land, much of it boasts giant waterfalls that look like clouds melting into the land below. The portal calls to those who crave independence and freedom; and especially to anyone that wishes to find the strong bond of a family not forged in blood.

The second portal is encircled by a fairy ring of spotted white capped mushrooms, the faint scent of damp stone and rich earth wafting from within the faint green glow. Peering inside, one can see a sprawling harbor city of gray hewn stone, a melting pot of humanoid beings going about their day, and beyond, rolling green farmland and cottages clustered in small villages. This portal is destined for those who crave stability and solid ground beneath their feet. A simple life, an adventurous one, and everything in between can be found within.

The last portal is adorned with shells and seaweed, the glow of blue around it catching on droplets cascading down the circular opening. Beyond it you see a city housed inside a massive bubble deep under the ocean, spiraling towers encrusted with coral, and a variety of different creatures mingling about the streets. Outside of that bubble, merfolk swim, a massive squid engulfs the view from the portal as it smoothly glides through the water, and schools of fish disperse as it passes. A sanctuary in the sea that calls to those with a hunger for knowledge and a desire to aid those in need. Or perhaps it is the mystery that beckons you - the lure of the unknown in the depths that bids you explore it.

Upon following the pull of the breeze through the first portal, you are thrust into the beauty of a lively city that goes by the name of Heaven's Bow. Much of this main city feels exactly as you would expect on a city below, but there are clouds surrounding every direction you look. The walls of buildings are made with light-colored limestone, and buildings are generally built up to heights made even more grandiose by their position in the sky.

The Skyfall Docks are the first thing you notice, boasting hundreds of airships sailing in and out across the clouds with shouts that accompany a typical port city. Just outside is a fantastic market with goods not only from the other regions of Caldera, but from what some shopkeepers claim are other worlds--items sold or left behind by Visitors. Almost anything can be found in the markets if one is willing to look hard enough. Transport to other locations throughout the sky and even to the land or sea can be found here.

If the docks are too lively for you, you may instead find yourself roaming the underbelly of Heaven's Bow and finding brothels and gambling parlors filled with the promise of pleasure and fortune. The guild house for the Sylphs can be found here as well, giving out quests and training to prospective adventurers and guards alike--though none of them seem concerned with the illicit activities that surround them. Perhaps the freedom the Sylphs boast of extends to what others may deem an undesirable activity.

But most curious of all, you find a shimmering opal gemstone in your hand. When placed anywhere on the body, it will transform into a piece of jewelry with the gemstone set in the center.

If it was the second portal that called to you, you will find yourself in the busy city of Grey Ward, with its cobblestone streets and sturdy grey stone buildings. You are in the heart of the city, the Glass Market, so named for the colorful stained glass windows of the surrounding buildings. The scent of cooking food and the sound of barkers fills the air; watchful guards keep an eye out for pickpockets and thieves, and citizens go about their day. From here, one can investigate the rest of the city: the Sundown Docks, where both sea and sky faring skips transport people and goods. The Soot Spire, home of inventors and engineers. The Hearthstill, the main residential area. The Downs, a smaller residential area for those with less means.

Outside the city walls, one can explore acres of farmlands to the east and west, or follow Terra’s Pass to the less settled areas, but take care. Past the Skyward Range, out in the smaller burrows and villages, the influence of the city guard diminishes quickly, and you’ll have to keep your wits about you. Bandits along the road are always a risk, and the wildlife are less controlled by regimented hunting.

In your hand is a gemstone, a brilliantly green emerald that, when placed anywhere on the body, will transform into a piece of jewelry with the gemstone set in the center.

If the last portal beckoned you through it, you find yourself within that bubble covered city beneath the sea, the city of Salt Spire. Your ears pop with the change in pressure, and the smell of the salty sea fills your nostrils. All around you buildings made of dark stone encrusted with coral and seagrass tower high above your head, the backdrop outside the dome a deep blue, seemingly endless sea filled with fish and merfolk and all other manner of creature swimming through the water. You stand in the heart of it all, surrounded by people with gils on their necks and scales upon their vibrantly colored skin, all of whom seem intrigued by your arrival. You have many options of where to visit in the city under the sea, but where oh where will you go first?

The Salt Spire Library is right before you, an impossibly large building housing thousands upon thousands of books of all genres. Fiction, non-fiction, romance and mystery and all between. You may even find books from your world and others! Oddly enough though, no Calderan history books are to be found, and if you ask for them, the librarians and locals all choose to ignore your questions.

If scholarly pursuits aren't to your interest currently, perhaps a trip to Bluetide Market would be more your style? The marketplace is host to every manner of shop one might ever need: artisans of all varieties, apothecaries and healers in the Shimmer Quarter, the most in fashion undersea clothing shops, food stalls, and all between can be found in Bluetide. There are also the Tideshore and Fogbottom docks on either end of the city. The former allows transport to the surface via large, magical bubbles for those that cannot hold their breath or make the swim themselves yet. The latter allows people to venture further into the sea. Those without their underwater abilities are offered rebreathers for travel that last for four hours before needing to be replaced.

In your hand is a gemstone, a shining sapphire that, when placed anywhere on the body, will transform into a piece of jewelry with the gemstone set in the center.

Visitors in all starter cities are offered a standard home with basic necessities provided (your choice in design, etc.) that can house 1-4 people if they so choose. Home upgrades can be purchased via rewards.

FANNING THE FLAMES

The renewed seething of the lava flows brought on by the tempestuous events deep below the sea seem to have been dealt with, though city guards have been stationed around the crater and are barring anyone from approaching to investigate any further than the outskirts. Interestingly, not only does the crater seem calm, it appears to be changing. Any remaining lava flow is being directed as if by unseen hands, and when the light catches just right, the barest hint of a shimmer can be detected surrounding the glowing rivers. New rock formations take shape as the days pass, though one never can catch the presence of a mason working on the structures. It's as if something intangible or invisible is repairing what was broken, turning what was previously chaos and ruin into order and life.

SEASON OF LIGHT

The world remains unsettled, still bearing the scars of the trials endured just a month prior, not to mention the oddities happening with the volcanic crater and the ominous shadows creeping in from the sea continue to haunt the collective psyche, leaving both locals and visitors on constant edge, fearful of a sudden, unprovoked assault. Despite these lingering anxieties, the leaders have publicly reassured all that calm has been restored. They claim that the worst is behind them and that every measure is being taken to prevent such devastating magics from ever threatening Salt Spire again. The protective bubble holds, new Undine are being ushered into their roles, and the world, it is said, is slowly healing. Or so they claim.

Whether or not the assurances of the leaders ring entirely true, life, as it often does, presses on. The people of Caldera have once again immersed themselves in the comforting bustle of distraction, turning their attention to the imminent Season of Lights celebrations. This holiday, it seems, bears a striking resemblance to the festive cheer of Christmas (and a mix of new years), with gifts exchanged in abundance and decorations of shimmering silver and radiant blue casting their glow across the sky, sea, and land in harmonious splendor.

One of the seasons's highlights is the grand Feast of the Sky, a night when the people gather beneath a star-filled canopy to exchange gifts—ornate trinkets, hand-crafted items, and tokens of affection that carry deep personal meaning. In the days leading up to the feast, a tradition of "Lightwalking" emerges, where families and friends embark on midnight strolls through streets aglow with lanterns, singing carols and sharing stories of hope and renewal. Sea-going vessels, too, partake in the festivities, their sails and riggings festooned with glowing orbs that drift like stars across the waters.

The Season of Lights is, above all, a celebration of resilience, a time when the people of Caldera set aside their worries, if only for a little while, to bask in the glow of community, generosity, and the promise of brighter days ahead thanks to the Visitor's arrival...

THE GRAND MASQUERADE

Another highlight of the season is the Grand Masquerade that unfolds high above the world in Heaven’s Bow, the floating city where the wind dances in the sky and the stars seem close enough to touch. The event is more than just a celebration of the Season of Lights—it’s a gathering of hope, a last-ditch effort to save Caldera from its slow unraveling. Here, among the clouds and the wind, the people of Caldera and the mysterious Visitors from other worlds come together in a shimmering, ethereal celebration, their faces hidden behind elaborate masks and appropriately fancy dress provided when one steps through the threshold of the castle gates.

The palace at the heart of Heaven’s Bow is a breathtaking sight, its walls adorned with silver and blue decorations that catch the light from thousands of lanterns floating in mid-air. The atmosphere is both jubilant and tense, a world on the brink of collapse holding its breath in the hopes that this fleeting night will offer a glimmer of salvation. The sky above is painted with the colors of dusk and dawn, swirling in a palette of purples, blues, and silvers.

Sylphs—the free-spirited, airborn people of the Sky—flutter about, their wings glinting in the light, performing acrobatic feats in the air, their laughter and music mingling with the sounds of the celebration. Guests, their masks intricate and stunning, move among the crowd, exchanging pleasantries and stories, some joining in the dances while others linger near the grand tables, laden with food and drink from every corner of Caldera and beyond.

As the night unfolds, the guests find themselves drawn into different corners of the event—each space offering the Visitors a chance to prove themselves worthy of the leaders’ favor. There is no shortage of opportunities to learn, grow, and, perhaps, change the course of this dying world.

THE SKY'S ASCENSION

At one end of the palace's terrace, a floating platform hovers above the clouds, surrounded by shifting air currents. Sylphs glide effortlessly through the space, their wings leaving trails of light as they move to the lively music, which seems written by the wind itself.

Aella, Admiral of the Slyph, stands at the center of the platform, her cloak of shimmering feathers rippling in the breeze. She surveys the crowd, inviting those brave enough to take part in her challenge. Before them, a maze of floating platforms stretches out, some wide and stable, others narrow and swaying in the wind. The task is simple: leap from one platform to the next, navigating the shifting air and ever-changing obstacles.

The platforms move unpredictably, some rising higher, others sinking, and a few disappearing entirely. Guests must time their jumps perfectly, balancing agility with timing as they avoid falling into the clouds below.

Those who succeed will earn Aella’s favor (in the form of 100 Bones and a single white feather). And those who falter will simply reappear the start of the challenge to begin anew or give up with no repercussions for the latter save perhaps a bit of embarrassment.

THE SEA'S SECRETS

On the other side of the terrace, a serene water garden unfolds, its shimmering pools reflecting the stars above. Water flows in delicate, endless cascades, filling the air with a soft, soothing melody that mingles with the distant sound of waves. The Undines, graceful and serene beings of the Sea, glide effortlessly through the space, their robes flowing like gentle currents, their movements as fluid as the water itself.

Cordelia, Queen of the Sea, stands quietly on a raised platform at the edge of the garden, her presence calm and powerful. Her eyes, deep and unfathomable, seem to reflect the vastness of the ocean, and though she watches the guests, she does not engage with them. Her stillness holds an air of mystery, as if she is both present and yet unreachable.

The Undines move silently through the garden, offering peaceful company to those who wander nearby. The garden is a place of contemplation, where guests can simply pause and connect with the tranquil beauty of the water—its soothing flow, its quiet depths, and its promise of renewal. There are no tests or challenges here, only the peace of the Sea to calm the mind and soul.

Those who linger may feel the weight of ancient knowledge in the air, a silent understanding of the oceans' mysteries and the healing power of water. In this place, the answers are not spoken, but felt—a quiet reminder that some of the world’s deepest truths are best discovered in moments of stillness.

As the evening fades, those who have found solace in the garden’s stillness will discover, tucked gently in their palm, a lustrous pearl. Unlike any found on the shores, this pearl is soft and warm, its surface shimmering with an inner light. It is a symbol of the wisdom that comes from quiet reflection—the knowledge that some things, like the depth of the sea, cannot be rushed.

THE LAND'S EMBRACE

In the heart of the palace gardens, beneath a canopy of flowering trees, the Dryads drift gracefully among the guests, their earthy skin glowing with life and their eyes bright with the vitality of nature. The air is thick with the scent of blooming roses and jasmine, while the ground beneath the guests' feet pulses with a quiet energy, inviting them to pause and feel the garden’s magic.

Terra, the Lady of the Land, stands at the center, her form adorned in living vines and blossoms, moving as if the garden itself flows through her. Her presence is both nurturing and fierce, a silent invitation to those seeking connection—to the land, to love, and to one another.

Guests are drawn to the tranquil beauty of the garden, stealing soft moments with their partners among the flowers. Lovers exchange quiet glances, touch petals with gentle fingers, and share unspoken promises beneath the soft glow of lanterns. The garden hums with romance, as if the earth itself is blessing these tender moments, offering the quiet assurance that love—like the land—can grow in the most unexpected places.

As the night draws to a close, Terra’s gentle power is felt in the air, and for those who have taken the time to connect with the garden’s beauty, a soft gift of nature is bestowed. A flower—unique and radiant—appears in their hand, a token of love and growth, a reminder that even the briefest moments can take root and blossom into something everlasting.

QUESTBOARD [NEW QUESTS ADDED]

Settled in? Good. It's time to make your way to the Questboard located in every city in numerous, easy to access locations. That is, if you want to make any kind of impact on the world or just get some Bones for anything you might wish to purchase. Visitors are given a very small stipend in which to survive every month, but all it does is keep you fed and housed. These quests will assure you greater wealth, and they're the main reason you're here: each finished quest helps the Calderans fix their shattering world.

Quests can be accepted at the questboard via magically signed parchment upon the board. Just sign your name to accept and the paper will be whisked away... somewhere. You're not actually sure. Probably nothing to concern yourself with.

Once quests are completed, earned Bones will be dropped off at the character's residence by Bonita, the mysterious artisan who has supposedly handcrafted every Bone circulating in Caldera. Please do not speak to her, she startles easily.

OOC NOTES

Welcome to Caldera's fourth TDM! All characters awaken in a strange tavern with nothing save the clothes on their backs, all of their powers stripped, and a piece of parchment directing them downstairs to the Tavernkeeper. There is a thread of all questions answered by the Tavernkeeper here, and if you have more, feel free to ask there for what would be offered ICly.

For OOC questions, please direct themhere.

All locations are available to be explored!

The TDM is game canon and all completed quests can be carried over once accepted into the game.

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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

…oh.

It’s…not so different from kissing a woman. Soft lips, warm and welcoming, breath gentle when they break apart…

But the barely there prickle of stubble is new. The hand that lifts to touch his cheek is bigger, rougher, and those new things are oddly thrilling.

That Finnick steals another one before drawing back—male, female, it doesn’t matter. That small, firm stolen touch is just sweet and hot at the same time.

John’s eyes stay closed for a long moment when they part, and when they open they’re soft with a heat and delight that seep into the smile that curls his crooked mouth.

“…can I kiss you again?”

Finnick's hands are certainly rough, chapped by cold wind and salt water, calloused by ropework. They're gentle, though, and each touch seems perfectly measured, as though practiced beforehand.

John's smile is contagious; a small grin alights Finnick's face as well.

"Of course," he murmurs, closing the space between them again, this time ghosting the tip of his tongue across John's lower lip, encouraging him to part them.

John needs no encouragement—he’s already moving as he leans in again, lips parting as his free hand drifts up to slide through Finnick’s hair gently. That barely there brush of his tongue before they come together again…

…oh, wow.

John’s hand slips from Finnick’s hair to settle on his nape, torn between holding on and pulling him closer and ending up sort of kneading taut muscle. That prickle of stubble is more intense, he can tell Finnick has just…done more kissing than John has in his limited experience with women, and he’s a really great kisser.

John can’t quite stifle the barely there moan against Finnick’s mouth as his head spins pleasantly, and John just clings tighter where their hands are still joined, like that can somehow keep him grounded.

And John’s not sure he wants to stay grounded.

The kiss is open-mouthed, but slow and languid, allowing them to get acquainted with each other's tongues and bask in those sensations.

Finnick had promised he'd be gentle, but there's a need he can sense in the way John grips him, and if there's one thing Finnick can't resist, it's pushing things to see how far he'll be allowed to take them. He holds tighter to John's hand and pulls it in toward his body, making John lean closer to him, and presses the hand to himself wherever it will reach, encouraging the other man to touch him. His other hand slides into John's shaggy hair, fingers entwining at his scalp.

At a break in the kiss, he utters low: "you like it, mm?" He already knows the answer, but wants to tease a little.

Permission is all he needs—Finnick barely has to tug before John is reaching, sliding his hand over his shoulder, his chest, shifting closer with another low sound as the warmth of his body makes John…ache for more.

He’s gorgeous, and yeah: John wants it. To touch skin, to know more of that thrilling difference, but just as much he wants to fall into this and not come up for air. Finnick in his lap, pressing him down, tasting and touching and not caring if it leads to more or not.

…but then he asks, between kisses, low and brief and playful, and that ache gets sharp enough to tear another, higher sound from him. Not a whine, the nerve damage that leaves his mouth with a crooked slant and his voice so deep won’t allow for that, but the breathy hum in the air between them is dangerously close.

“Yeah…yeah…”

He likes it. Fuck, he loves it, and rather than just kiss him again, John can’t resist leaning in again to barely brush his lips to Finnick’s, then kiss the corner of his mouth—then nose at his jaw until he can press a slow, warm, openmouthed kiss to the curve of his neck with hesitant care.

It's the answer he expects, but he doesn't expect John to the move to kiss his neck. The way he does it is so unusual to Finnick- he's more used to fast, hungry, and rough. John almost seems to ask permission by tilting Finnick's chin up with his nose, which Finnick readily complies with, and then the kiss is surprisingly tender. Sweet, sensual.

"Mmm..." It's lovely. Finnick's eyes fall shut and his head tilts back even further as he hums his pleasure. The hand in John's hair moves to cup the back of his head, holding him there. His other hand creeps up John's thigh, slowly. His eyes crack open to glance at the bartender and other patrons, knowing the two of them are making a scene and might get a talking-to soon. Finnick will suggest they rent a room sooner or later, he just doesn't want to freak John out by bringing it up too soon.

That hand creeping up his thigh makes John aware of just how good this is—how good Finnick is, giving this to him. That soft hum of pleasure makes things low in his belly tighten, the hand on his leg makes him want to reach for it and draw it closer, or explore those callused fingers and palms as readily as that strong column of his throat…

John wants so much more than he has any right to, and he should just walk away. He should protect Finnick from him, because he likes this guy and even if nothing comes of this…

Nothing John touches can survive him, but God forgive him he’s selfish enough to want.

Pressing his forehead into the curve of Finnick’s neck, he slides a hand over the one on his leg and grips tightly, not pulling away but pressing it firm against his thigh.

“If you wanna stop, we can.” He breathes, unable to resist nipping at his pulse point. “But…I don’t wanna stop. Please.”

Finnick chuckles, low and fond and a little dark. Still cradling the back of his head, he tilts his face down to brush against John's and kiss his temple. He's adorable. His sheepish wanting, his sweet pleading, it makes Finnick want to wrap him up and take good care of him.

"I don't want to stop, either. But how about I get us a room, hm?" He speaks softly into John's ear.

He then gives the bartender a look and jerks a thumb up toward the staircase. The tavernkeep knows Finnick and his antics by now, and knows what he means. An exchange of a key and some Bones later, Finnick takes John's hand and gets up, tugging him gently upstairs with an encouraging smile.

You take me with you?

The memory stings, of Co's soft, hopeful longing and quiet joy…but this is so different. Here, John feels as if he’s the one asking for more than he can hope to have…

He wonders how the universe will make him pay for it.

Not with him. Never him.

John shuts his eyes and makes an oath of it, twisting his head to return that gentle kiss to his temple with one just as soft, but a little more fierce. The kind of kiss he wished he could have shared with Delmar the night he let John down so gently and without judgment, giving him instead a friendship that almost meant more than the crush he’d had on the big, beautiful moron…

He won’t let the universe use this generous and gentle man to punish him.

“…yeah.”

So he lets Finnick go. He follows once a room is secured, lets himself be led up and into the room…

…and once the door is shut, John can’t resist pulling Finnick in, close, hands slowly coming to rest on his hips as he kisses him again.

Slow, deep, and far less shy, greedy to see what other sounds he can get out of him.

There's an excitement lighting small sparks in his belly as they climb the stairs, the same excitement he gets when reeling in a fish he knows is big. He can't help the small, nearly childish grin that tugs at his lips.

Then they're alone, and all is quiet enough that he can hear their breathing, and their muscular frames are up against each other, the brushing of their hips creating more electricity in Finnick's body.

It's once again apparent that John is taller than him, and he likes that. Finnick likes to feel small sometimes, even if so far in this scenario he's been the dominant one due to the difference of experience. That could always change.

His fingertips find the hem of John's shirt and slip up underneath it, and he exhales a small noise into the other's mouth as he caresses the warm, bare skin of his back. Their tongues dance together as though to a song with a steady, quick beat. Experimentally, once his hands are up by John's shoulder blades, he scratches lightly down his back.

John tenses, barely, when Finnick’s hands slide under his shirt. It doesn’t last, can’t last, because John remembers that Finnick has seen the scars. Seen them, and still admired him in spite of those marks on his chest and his back…

So there’s a moment, a hitch—and then he’s flowing into him, kissing harder, advances until Finnick is near the door and gently presses him back not to pin him, but just because John wants to be closer. He’s done this dance with women, not men, knows only a little of what he could do that would be good for Finnick—

—the kiss of nails on his back stops his thoughts dead.

He would have been worried or afraid if he had the chance to think about it. He doesn’t, though, so that teasing scrape of nails on skin makes him shiver, breath catching—and when one mail catches on a line of scar tissue he can’t control his reaction.

His hips rock into Finnick’s, and the kiss turns into a messy clash of lips as he moans, ragged and helpless at the flash of heat that sears across his skin.

Being pushed against the door, that hint of bold desire, makes Finnick exhale another aroused sigh.

The experimental scratch yielded wonderful results, and new information. John likes that, as becomes immediately apparent in the way his shyness falls away to reveal hot lust. Finnick moans at the pressure on his groin, and grabs John's ass roughly to keep their hips pressed together, rolling his own forward. His other hand scratches across the taller man's back diagonally, a little harder this time. The kiss is hardly even a kiss anymore as Finnick's mouth mainly hangs open whorishly with his tongue blindly pushing forward, though he does occasionally nip and suck at John's lower lip.

With John's larger size and strong movements, Finnick is dangling on the precipice of his more submissive side, feeling like he could switch at any moment. A small part of him whines, wanting to be choked and fucked against the wall by this gentle giant. For now, he keeps that to himself, not wanting to overwhelm John since he's new at doing this with a man.

However, the guy would probably appreciate a tip, Finnick thinks. A cheat code.

"Pull my hair."

Between the way Finnick drags him closer and rocks against him, and the fresh score of nails along his back…

Rational thought falls swiftly away as he meets the roll of Finnick’s hips, and keeps moving, a slow grind with a rhythm that makes him growl and gasp as they do little more than share each other’s air, taste each other…and when Finnick asks for that wakes John up a little bit.

“Yeah?” He asks, brow furrowed with uncertainty as he slides a hand through Finnick’s hair, nails gently scratching at his scalp but not yet gripping. He doesn’t want to hurt him…

“You’re sure?”

He can't help but grin at John's concern for him. It's sweet, it just strikes Finnick a little funny after so many years of being treated as a fuck-toy. He knows what he can handle, and it's a hell of a lot more than a hard tug to the scalp.

"I'm sure, babe," he murmurs. "The harder the better." He mainly adds that so that John won't be worried about hurting him. The last thing he thinks John will do is yank his hair out.

Just for a second, the reassurance has the opposite effect. For a split second, he’s back in Vietnam with a massive Russian soldier pulling his own hair to compel him to radio his superiors…

He can still feel the searing blade cutting a new line of scar tissue along his orbital socket. He can feel the electrical current, the bite of jute rope holding him fast.

He doesn’t want to hurt anyone like he got hurt, especially a friend—and for this, Finnick is a friend he will never let go, not for anything—but he’s asking. Asking and grinning like he’s looking forward to it…and thinks about Finnick’s nails on his back.

John slides both his hands into Finnick’s hair, looking into his eyes, and kisses him again. He rocks against him, kissing slow and deep with that delicious hot slide of tongues…

…and slides a hand down Finnick’s chest, letting a nail catch on his nipple through the fabric of his shirt as he tightens his fingers in his hair and gives a short, but firm tug to tip his head back a little more so he can deepen the kiss still more.

And that…taking his mouth like he wants to take his body, or be taken, taking advantage to taste and touch and do something Finnick wants…yeah, that’s good.

That’s fucking incredible.

The tease of his nipple followed by the firm tug of hair causes Finnick to moan deeply into John's mouth, a sound that comes from far in the back of his throat. The sensation on his scalp is amazing, and the dominant movement to open Finnick's body and mouth up more to him... It flicks some sort of switch, a switch that melts the rational part of his brain into goo and makes him incredibly pliable in his partner's hands.

"Fuck..." he exhales the curse against John's lips. His cock is now aching for more, so he starts to work on the buttons of his pants to free it. He then goes for John's buttons as well, so they can at least rub against each other with less layers between.

"Yeah--fuck, s' good--"

That moan licks up his spine like flame, has John tugging just a little on his hair again to give him more room so he can explore that strong column of his throat, nip at his adam's apple and flick his tongue against a patch of stubble at his jaw, tasting and feeling and swallowing down this new side of sex he's dreamed of simply knowing for so long.

He's not even thinking as he reaches down to help Finnick with their buttons, getting Finnick's fly open faster so he can reach out, touch--

It's not so different from wrapping his fingers around his own cock when he's hard. It's not his, though, it's Finnick's, hot and silky and beading moisture when he brushes a thumb across the head.

John can't remember the last time he was so excited, and he's a little dizzy with it. It's...a great feeling.

His touch is slow, still hesitant, still careful as he starts to stroke Finnick, lifting his head to kiss him again.

"Good?" he asks breathlessly against his mouth. "Not--not pullin y'r hair too hard? S'ok?"

Then John is pulling his hair again, and teasing his neck, and he feels a big hand wrap gently around his cock, and Finnick cannot help the whimpering whine that escapes him. His submissive brain rears its head again, and for a moment he just melts into John, throwing an arm around his neck to hold himself up on weakening knees. He further makes a few humming whines of pleasure before reminding himself not to be a pillow princess, taking John's shaft in hand.

"It's good- it's really fucking good-" he murmurs breathlessly against John's lips. It's not like anything particularly mindblowing is happening, in the grand scheme of Finnick's sex life. It's hot and heavy, but nothing he hasn't done before. However, he's learned that having trust in a partner, feeling cared for as a person while in bed, trumps everything else. Feeling like someone values him for who he is and doesn't just want to use him is key to Finnick trusting them and having a good time. John is so sweet, so clearly caring, that it opens Finnick right up.

He feels as though he should check in too, though. He strokes John slowly as he asks:

"You okay? Slower, faster? Less, more?" It's important that John feels in control of the pace here, given his level of experience.

John pushes him back harder against the door when he becomes aware that Finnick needs support—and that is a huge boost to his ego. Guy is going weak in the knees and whining and Jesus he feels like a teenager…

“More of you.” He breathes, even as he rocks into Finnick’s touch with a moan. “M’ good, you’re so gorgeous—scared I’ll come too soon just hearing you…feeling you, you feel incredible…don’ wanna hurt you, what else feels good? Wanna get you off, listen to you—tell me what you like.”

It’s not a question as he releases his hair to slide a hand down over Finnick’s ass—supporting his weight and yeah, copping a feel as he strokes him, still slow but a little firmer.

“Give you the fucking moon if it’ll make you come, you just gotta ask for it.”

Finnick exhales another breathy laugh at John's rambling, mainly because that's how much his mind is reeling, too.

"I don't wanna overwhelm you... But, fuck... I want you to fuck me hard against the wall. Maybe pin or choke me, but that's optional, of course..."

It's been a long time since Finnick was with someone big and strong, and almost never that he's actually trusted said big strong man. If John doesn't know how to dominate, he will walk him through it, so long as he's willing.

He grips a little tighter, continuing to jerk John off.

"Oh, and the-- I have lube, and I can handle the prep and all of that." Of course, that's new for John too, he almost didn't realize.

Fucking him, the prep—John has no experience, but he did get exposed to a few things in Thailand during the war. Enough to know what goes where, and extrapolate the rest…

…and the admission about wanting John to choke him is almost enough to sober him up. Not quite all the way, he doesn’t feel the garrote at his neck or smell the jungle air, but it claws at something in his chest that—it’s not quite possessive, but it’s close. It’s…hunger is the closest descriptor he has.

It’s all he can come up with for the hot need that has him thoughtlessly sliding that hand back into Finnick’s hair, stroking him just a little faster, sharing his air as he stares into his face.

“No choking. Not gonna hurt you—I wanna take care of you for being good to me.”

He gives Finnick’s hair another firm tug, kissing him hard and deep and rocking into his grip, fucking the circle of Finnick’s fingers as his breathing starts to get erratic.

“And you’re being so good to me…for me…”

It’s a little odd, but it feels right to say.

“…but I—fuck—I’d love to fuck you…love to help you…s’ it feel good? The…uh…the prep?”

He’s trying very hard not to come like a teenager—and he is still blushing. Shut up, don’t judge him.

“Wanna help you if it makes you feel good.” He breathes, shutting his eyes as he blushes and pants and tries to slow down a little, to make this last. “God, I wanna make you feel so good…”

Boo to no choking, but a completely fair thing to decline. He's still interested to see what John might do, freestyle, in a dominant position. How he'll make the role his own.

"Mmm," Finnick smiles, eyes lidded as he looks into brown eyes. "I do like praise."

That smile turns into a mischievous grin at the question about prep.

"It does, yeah, I'll show you how to help. Just..." He lets go of John's cock, putting a gentle hand on his cheek, stroking it slowly.

"Take a breath, sweetheart. No need to get too carried away, hm? I'm not going anywhere." He can tell John is getting a little too excited, and he'll need his stamina. He keeps a soft, encouraging smile, and pecks his lips sweetly. He waits for John to take a moment to breathe before moving on to any next steps.

John makes a low, broken sound of pleasure before he’s shifting closer—not a loss of control of his libido, but to press his face into Finnick’s shoulder for a moment as he takes that breath.

“Men are new, but…this is, too. Still.” He admits, lifting his head to steal another of those soft, chaste little pecks before leaning his forehead into Finnick’s. “There was someone, recently, but—she left. Didn’t have long…before that? Pushing twenty years.”

And the way he shuts his eyes and lets out a shaky breath, it’s pretty clear: the man isn’t just excited, he’s pretty severely touch starved.

Finnick wraps his arms around John, rubbing his back in slow, languid motions. John feeling cared for and not used is just as important as Finnick feeling that way, after all. He shifts his attention to just listen and hold him, abandoning their other tasks entirely for now.

"Mm... It makes sense that you'd be overwhelmed, then. We can take a break any time, so let me know if it becomes too much. My friend Loki, he taught me about traffic lights. Red means 'stop right now,' yellow means 'I'm not sure, take it slow,' and green means 'yes, keep going.' That might help us a little, whether to say how we feel about one act in particular, or the whole thing."

Finnick is eager to put what he's learned about consent to use. He doesn't want to repeat old patterns more than necessary.

He kisses John's cheek, soft and slow.

The soothing touches…they’re so chaste, so nice they shouldn’t be exciting but they are. Sensual, comforting, and as he relaxes his arousal turns to a delicious slow burn that makes him want to sink into Finnick and just fucking devour him…

“Traffic lights…I know ‘em. I really like that idea, actually.”

Lifting his head, John looks into Finnick’s face, then lays a hand against his neck, palm and fingers splayed against his throat without pressure.

No, he’s not going to choke Finnick. That hasn’t changed…but he’s less scared of just teasing at the idea with more daring touches.

So he lets that linger for a second, smiles—and steps back, out of Finnick’s embrace. It’s hard, but he’s not stupid: he’s seen something in Finnick that’s exciting.

He wants to see how it feels to…play with it.

“Start stripping.”

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cw mention of choking, also cant remember if theres a nsfw warning so nsfw blanket warning lol

SO NSFW OMG XD

cw allusion to past sex work/sexual abuse

cw: past torture & imprisonment

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CW: mentions of PTSD flashbacks and past torture

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