#Festive Twig
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Ok, here we go! Festive Twig as seen from a dishwashing eye view!
(Also, I hope the picture and caption in my previous addition both show up in this reblog, because for some reason one or the other has disappeared in a lot of other people's reblogs??)
Edit: AGH I saved it as a draft to see and the picture isn't showing up! Why?!! I'll add it here and hope it stays. Also I just noticed that the caption for last year's twig is also missing, even though it DID show up in the previous reblog?? Maybe this post if just uniquely cursed and likes eating things??
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Ok that's the picture that was meant to be in the previous reblog. Here is Festive Twig:
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Last year I made some quick little ornaments by attaching bits of wire to sequins, but I think I have some earring hooks somewhere that could be used for more substantial baubles.
If I got really ambitious I could even get a small vase for it instead of using the salt shaker I found on the riverbank when I was a kid. (I do already have a small green vase that would work, but it's busy holding ostrich feathers on my bookshelf and I don't want to interrupt it.)
Edit again: Oh gosh, I can't believe I forgot to mention this in every reblog, but the blue bauble on the original Festive Twig? That's not an ornament at all, it's one of those chapstick balls, and my then-roommate got it in a gift bag from their workplace. I tied a piece of thread around it and hung it on the twig and it was too heavy but not enough to topple it over.
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got the perfect christmas tree to fit the apartment! It is a twig I found in a ditch.
Edit: I have added some more ornaments
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mergatroidster · 7 months ago
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Oh! The Twig Village LARP festival is getting started!
Look at those cosplay critters! They have really put a ton of imagination into their costumes, and they are getting right into their characters…
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hkthatgffan · 1 year ago
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Our first proper glimpse of Hilda season 3!!
Posted over on the website of the Ottawa International Animation Festival. There will be a sneak peek of season 3 there on September 21st…the 5 year anniversary of the show starting! I so wish I could go, but sadly I'm in Toronto.
From them: "Hilda returns, eager to escape the bustling city of Trolberg for a refresh. She embarks on a train with Mum, Frida, David and of course her bold sense of adventure. In Tofoten, Hilda is encouraged to lean into the soft living of this sleepy town by her quirky Great Aunt Astrid – walks by the river, delicious baking, local shopping. But this quiet lifestyle is quickly interrupted when Hilda gets a whiff of something mysterious nearby: a Fairy Mound! Her curiosity leads to more than just an adventure and a new creature-y friend… But to an eerie landscape where danger lurks in the shadows. The third season will uncover truths never explored before in the series! This advanced sneak preview will be followed by an in-person Q+A with Luke Pearson and Andy Coyle – Moderated by Emerald Wright-Collie."
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IT'S ALMOST HERE!!
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aeolianblues · 1 month ago
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BOB VYLAN ARE DOING COACHELLA
HUGE. Huge for the most independent band on earth! Coachella’s 2025 lineups just been released and this is the first year I’ve genuinely been envious of a lineup in a decade. The Saturday looks amazing! All the way from Green Day, Charli xcx, The original misfits, Sam Fender, Beth Gibbons, Viagra Boys, down to the Bobbies on the bill, Saturday looks really good! My one surprise is that Fontaines aren’t on that bill. They literally have a space in their calendar whilst being on the west coast around those weeks of early-mid April. We all almost thought it was a done deal that they’d do it.
Anyway here’s the poster. Headliners feel indie-Coachella adjacent again, which is almost rare in recent years. I’m not huge on Postie I’ve really bored of him since the Morgan Wallen collaboration soured the idea of him for me, but otherwise seems cool. Friday and Sunday are also days I’ll be glued to the livestream you bet your ass. Gaga and Missy Elliot? Hello?
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Also my laptop is shit-broken but I’m gonna try and fix it soon, does any mutual that’s into this kind of music and comfortable doing so want to come on as a guest on radio and yap about this lineup because I’m GOING CRAZY. WHEN DID COACHELLA BECOME DECENT, I need to talk to someone about this!!
Edit: KNEECAP????
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grimweaver · 1 year ago
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Happy Wayback Wednesday Here's a photo from 2009. I'm Cosplaying as Malkhai in her Listener armor, getting a picture with Twig the Fairy, at the Minnesota Renaissance Festival.
Possibly a bit tipsy after a serving of mead lol.
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munebat · 1 year ago
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Back from ren care I got a pretty paracel, a box thingy with a mushroom on it and flowers, and I met twig and will! (From Robin Hood) I love ‘em so much @starboydreamy gave twig a rock for winning a talent show!
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fkatwigsfashion · 5 months ago
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FKA twigs performing at the Park Life Festival - 6/7/15
Wearing:
Lexxi Swimsuit by Agent Provocateur
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luckystarchild · 1 month ago
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In an act of petty revenge against intolerant family, I make a point to steal our holiday traditions and haphazardly distribute them to others. Mostly gay people, but also to my unsuspecting coworkers at the company potluck.
This year I stole THE BUTTER TURKEY and also THE CREAM CHEESE APPETIZER, which I mashed up into one single holiday abomination.
What is The Cream Cheese Appetizer?
This appetizer is popular among WASPs in Central Texas. I have no idea if it's popular elsewhere or with other demographics. It has appeared, without fail, at every single family gathering I've attended since I was born. It comprises a block of cream cheese, crackers, and "pepper jelly." Pepper jelly is some kind of fruit jam with chipotle or jalapenos in it for spice. You smear the spicy-sweet jelly and cheese on a cracker and enjoy. It's good, and low effort, and looks fancier than it actually is:
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Obviously this is not funny enough to bring to the potluck, however, and not specific enough to my family to count as a true theft. So:
What is The Butter Turkey?
Every year my relatives take a stick of butter (used for spreading on rolls/potatoes) and mold it by hand into the shape of a three-dimensional turkey. I guess it's supposed to be... decorative? Festive? I have no idea who started this or conceived of the idea. Either way, it's funny, and also kinda weird, so at the work potluck I decided to make a butter turkey...but with the cream cheese of the above appetizer instead of butter. Theft AND ingenuity. Love that.
So I took the cream cheese to work today, and (after thoroughly washing up) crafted my son, Cuthbert.
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I love him. He has wings, a waddle, and a wonderful tail. It took just 3 minutes to make him but I will love him forever.
Now, the only kind of pepper jelly I could find at the grocery store last night was raspberry. I thought nothing of this. That sounded delicious to me. So once Cuthbert was formed, I took him happily to the appetizer table, placed him just so, and proceeded to pour the pepper jelly over his body.
Immediately I realized my mistake.
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He belongs in a children's hospital.
Arranging the crackers around him did nothing to hide the bloodbath. My coworkers chuckled. A few guffawed as they stabbed his already bleeding body with a cheese knife. And all the while I muttered: The turkey is no more. He has ceased to be. He's expired and gone to meet his holiday maker. He's stiff. Bereft of life. Resting in peace. If I hadn't formed him on a plate, he'd be pushing up the daisies. His metabolic processes are now history. He's off the twig. He's kicked the bucket, shuffled off his mortal coil, run down the curtain and joined the bleeding choir invisible. This is an EX-TURKEY.
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But then I realized, amid the chuckles and the laughs...the raspberry was actually the right choice. The perfect choice. The ONLY choice. The raspberry pepper jelly's gory glory is what makes Cuthbert the perfect Thanksgiving mascot, because in this lurid display of violent WASP appetizer creation, Cuthbert reminds us all of the true spirit of the holiday: one of colonial violence and bloodshed.
Cuthbert, therefore, is the perfect embodiment of this holiday, and I intend to resurrect this ex-turkey every year for the rest of my life.
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moonchildstyles · 1 month ago
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it's all hallow's eve and y/n shouldn't be in the woods.
wordcount: 5.1k+
tw: there is a large section describing some scary animal (wolf) stuff w descriptions of blood and the breaking of bones! everything turns out the wya it should tho don't worry!
—————
With every step, the brush under (Y/N)'s feet crackled. Twigs snapped and leaves crunched under her weight, the loudest noises that could be heard in the forest. The hoots of owls nearby and howls of wolves far off bounced amongst the trees. 
Taking in a deep breath of the crisp air, she readjusted her grip on her skirts as she stepped around a puddle. Every exhale came out in a cool cloud. The basket bouncing against her hip was going to leave a bruise, she was sure. 
Truly, (Y/N) was regretting taking on the responsibility of this trip. Her cousin—and her mother for sending her off, actually—owed her more than just the few loaves of bread she was running to pick up. Especially since Katrina apparently was only available tonight, and was unwilling to make the trip herself despite being in town earlier in the afternoon, anyway. That was (Y/N)'s cousin, though; eccentric and impulsive. 
Just because no one had claimed this land on the outskirts of town, and she had the kind of money to keep everyone's mouths shut if they had any opposition, didn't mean that it was the best idea. Especially so, when it meant that Katrina was tucked away in-between the trunks of trees and craggy brush.
But, (Y/N) supposed that was the price of enjoying time by herself. No husband needed when she had her peace and quiet, Katrina had said.
A chilled breeze swept across her form, goosebumps lighting over her skin, the texture hightlighted under the rays of the full moon. Yeah, (Y/N) thought as she tightened her shawl around her shoulders, there better be more than a couple of loaves of bread involved in this trip. She didn't care if Katrina enjoyed her peace and quiet, not when she was cold and missing out on the town's festivities for the night. 
All Hallow's Eve was one of (Y/N)'s favorite nights of the year. It was the one night that she enjoyed staying out under the moonlight, and actually found joy in the idea of being scared. The last place she wanted to be on a night like tonight, was trudging through the woods on her way to her cousin's home. 
This was one of (Y/N)'s least favorite routes on a regular day, even among the morning hours, let alone doing this in the evening with only the moon to keep her company. The forest around her sang, filling the silence of her trek. 
Though she would never accept the title, she knew she was a bit of a scaredy cat, as Katrina had so lovingly put it when they were children. She avoided focusing on it to keep her wits about her, but the journey was beginning to send an eerie feeling up her spine. 
With every crunching footstep, she swore there were eyes pinned to her. Every brush of her shawl over her bare skin was suddenly an insect crawling into her pores, every hair falling into her face was saliva dripping from an open maw above her head, every chirping animal was a deviant spying on her from the shadows. Shadows were elongated with the help of the moon. Naked tree branches now looked like spindly fingers reaching out to grab her and take her into the earth with them. The smallest creatures skittering over the brush were now out to snatch her away, taking her to their master where she would be nothing more than a banquet table of food. 
This was most definitely not the way she wanted to spend her All Hallow's Eve. The only fun scares were the ones in town square, where the masks of witches and ghosts were strung around, and costumes were nothing more than a dressing game from those that she knew wouldn't hurt even a fly. Not this kind of chilling fear. Not the moments she had to convince herself were only in her head. 
But, truly, (Y/N) knew they were only in her head. There wasn't any deviant in the woods around Katrina's home, let along a monster with rows of teeth or blinking eyes on the moon. It was just her and the critters that could survive the shift of seasons out here. 
She just better be getting more than a couple of loaves of bread for this. 
Tightening the knitted shawl around her body, she pushed on. Katrina's cabin couldn't be that far. 
(Y/N) all but jumped out of her skin when she heard a loud crunch. She swore the sound came from behind her instead of underneath her feet like the moments before. Her steps faltered. Everything inside her wanted to turn around, to prove that it was nothing more than an animal running passed instead of the ghoul she had conjured up. But, just as badly as she wanted to know, she wanted to run away and sprint to Katrina. 
Steeling herself, (Y/N) surged onward. It was really just an animal. She would know if someone was following her. She would have heard something before this. No one could be that quiet. 
Maybe. 
She only made it a few yards further before a rustling of dead leaves sounded. Much closer behind her than before. 
On instinct, she whipped her head over her shoulder. 
Nothing but the bony trees. Shadows pulled thin under the bright moonlight didn't allow for many hiding places. Nothing and no one was to be seen. 
Her heart hammered in her chest, climbing up to the base of her throat as she forced herself to move on. Sweat beaded on the back of her neck, pasting the thin strands of hair there to her clammy skin. Katrina was going to tease her if she didn't get herself in check; she couldn't walk up having this look of fright on her face. 
With her pace quickened, (Y/N) moved on. The basket hanging from the crook of her elbow bounced against her hip with every hastened step. Twigs snapped and leaves crunched under her feet, the soft rush of the earth being disturbed under the heel of her boots padded each of her steps. 
She needed to go faster, she urged herself. The faster she made this trade, the faster she made it home, and the faster she was home, the sooner she could join in on the All Hallow's Eve traditions. If she was lucky, Harry Styles might still even be out with his niece and she'll finally have a chance to talk to him and let him know she exists an—
A threatening growl reverberated through the trees. 
A sharp yip fell from (Y/N)'s lips, her lungs squeezed free of air. Despite the cool air around her, she could feel her skin beginning to simmer in fear. Her heart pumped as if in her last moments. 
What was it her mother said? When confronted by an animal, was she to be the bigger, scarier entity? Or was she supposed to lie still and hope they went away? Wait, was she supposed to run and hope they didn't give chase? 
Parts of her began to grow numb, a light tingle appearing in the tips of her fingers as she dared to look at her stalker. 
(Y/N)'s list of fears was long and winding, the kind that had the top spot constantly under fire as new worries were added. In that moment, she couldn't be sure what she was most afraid of seeing when she turned around, only that the not knowing wasn't an option. 
Taking in a deep breath and holding as still as possible, she made the smallest movement to peer over her shoulder. 
Her heart caught in her throat. Though she couldn't see all of it, the beast wasn't something that could be ignored. Not with the way its paws dug deeply into the earth, it's stance spanning as wide as the width of her shoulders. The fur grew in an array of shades of grey, thick and course. In the right light, he looked like nothing more than a shadow, the illusion only broken by the reflection of his black eyes. As much as she saw the heavy breaths the beast exhaled, she could hear it just as well as he drew closer. 
A root snapped under its huge paw, like a bone crunching. The sound had her skin erupting into goosebumps, (Y/N) unable to stop herself from jumping in her spot. The basket hanging from her elbow bumped against the trunk of the tree at her side.
The wolf wasn't pleased by her sudden movement, opening its maw and breathing out a gravelly growl. Its teeth were sharp, incisors coming to a point with the express purpose of ripping and tearing meat from the bone. Saliva gleamed over the teeth, dripping onto the soil at its feet. 
It took another step closer to her. (Y/N) trapped herself with her back to the trunk of the tree. 
Rushes of blood roared through her ears. She couldn't tell if the black touching the corners of her vision were the result of a stray cloud drifting over the moon, or the fact that she could be looking death in the eye as it stalked towards her. 
All for a couple of bread loaves. From Katrina. 
At that moment, (Y/N) felt a spark sink into her stomach. It was surprisingly offensive to think that her death would come on the journey to Katrina's cabin. That was far from fair. 
In what she was sure she would later think of as a stupid move (if she made it long enough to have a later anyway), she dug the toes of her boots into the earth, waiting just long enough to feel one more beat of her heart against her ribs. Then, she took off. 
(Y/N) had to hope this was the lifetime that would allow her to possess the speed to outrun a hellish wolf. Meandering through the trunks of spindly trees, she attempted to cut him off as best as possible, even if the pounding of the beast's feet sounded heavy and close behind her.
She was going to make it, she told herself. Just keep running. Get to Katrina. Get to the edge of the woods. Scream, let anyone else know what was happening. Maybe a hunter was out here—a stupid one for being out so late, but who was she to criticize. She was going to make it, and liv—
A jutting root caught on the tip of her boot. (Y/N) swore the world moved in slow motion as she fell. 
The clouds above stopped. The moon dimmed. The leaves under her turned crystalline. 
This was it. 
Her chin hit the damp earth first, her jaw clamping shut. Her hands stung as she attempted to catch herself, sticks and rocks embedding into her skin. The basket in her arms was crushed under her weight. 
This was it. 
Hopefully, someone would deliver the bread loaves to her mother instead. Hopefully, someone would find her. 
A deafening growl sounded through the forest. Tears filled her closed eyes. 
This was it. 
Until it wasn't. 
The growl had been cut short, killed with a vibrating slam against the forest floor. The static feeling someone looming behind her vanished. Despite the lack of heavy, hot breath fanning across her back, she didn't move. She couldn't trust the sudden change in the air. Her bones stayed stiff as he continued to brace herself against the forest floor. 
Another growl rang through the forest. This one was decidedly different than what she had heard while being stalked. 
There was another beast. That much she could be sure of. 
(Y/N) couldn't decide if it was scarier to not know what was behind her, or to see exactly what the end of her life was going to look like.
When a duo of gravely barks reverberated behind her, the decision was made for her on instinct. Though her gaze was blurry thanks to the tears filling her eyes, she was able to make out the pair of wolves looming behind her. 
But neither of them were looking at her.
Roots and brush dug into her back as she rolled to her back. Neither of them appeared to notice the movement of the prey before them, supernatural eyes pinned on one another. While the initial beast's eyes were reflections of moonlight, colored a primal yellow, the newcomer had emerald crescents at its irises.
This new one was also bigger and broader. (Y/N) had thought the yellow-eyes wolf was large and scary enough, this new one was in a league of its own. She shuddered to think just how easy it would be for this one to swallow her whole. 
Despite how large the emerald-eyed creature was, it was decidedly sleeker than the other. There wasn't anything course and tufting in its brown coat. Sharpened teeth, though just as menacing, lacked the chips and discoloration the other had. It looked less... feral compared to the other; desperate for a chase. 
The emerald-eyed one stepped close to the beast, growling and baring its teeth in intimidation. The rigid posture kept its maw wide over the yellow-eyed one's head, dripping with saliva. A throat growl vibrating from its massive chest. 
(Y/N) almost cringed when she saw the stalking beast refuse to back down despite the size difference presented with the emerald-eyed competitor. She was far from being a meal worthy for death. 
Neither refused to back down, but at least they didn't spare even a single look in her direction. Now was the time to flee, get away from there and to Katrina before another nasty foe caught wind. 
She didn't think before she scrambled to her feet and ran. She had to hope that the competition presented by the two wolves would allow enough cover to get her safely away. 
Every hope of that was dashed when it only took a handful of moments before pounding footsteps sounded behind her. At least she had a head start. 
The world around her was directionless as she attempted make sense of the trees she should be much more familiar with. She just needed to get away, as far as she was concerned. If she was able to make it to Katrina, even better. 
Sweat slipped down her back, her shawl hanging from her shoulder. Branches caught on her dress. Roots attempted to trip her. The cold air didn't want to work with her lungs, every breath feeling that much more stilted. All while being pursued by animals that shouldn't exist—not like this. 
Just as she swore she saw the backside of Katrina's cottage, between large trunks and spindly branches, one of the two beasts skidded in front of her. She hadn't heard the change in direction, but there were still footsteps sounding behind her. 
(Y/N) was forced to stop, keeping herself from bashing into the chest of one of the wolves. But that kept her stationary just for the other to close in behind her. 
She wasn't sure when, but tears slipped down her cheeks. The moisture stung the cuts on the planes of her face, searingly hot against her chilled skin. 
There was no way out this time. 
Especially not when the beast in front of her, the one with glinting green eyes, started charging towards her. 
Pressing in on herself, (Y/N) fell to the floor. It was a fruitless attempt, she was sure, but she curled her arms around her head, rolling into a ball between the brush and roots. There was a chance, however small, that she may be harder to eat and swallow like this. 
At her back, the pounding paws were louder across the forest floor. It was there, just behind her. 
She wondered if she could feel each bite as her flesh was torn from her bones, or if she would die before then. 
Peeking between her curled arms, (Y/N) saw the emerald-eyed beast close in on her. His maw was open wide, a menacing growl sounding through the forest. 
Just as she expected to feel the last dredges of the cold air and every piece of her body connected to one another, the beast leapt. Right over her head. And onto the wolf at her back.
Crunches that sound did a lot like broken tree branches rang through her head. But, (Y/N) knew, she wasn't sure how, that those cracks weren't from the forest. That was the snap of bones. She was sure. 
Whimpers were now interspersed with the gravely growls, pitches and devastating. Cracks and crunches tore the rhythm apart. 
One of them was dying behind her. 
(Y/N) couldn't look. She didn't want to see what kind of carnage was taking place behind her. All she knew was that the silence that shortly followed a particularly screeching whine was the sign of an ended fight. The elimination of competition—and her only safety in the form of distraction.
Along with the blood pudding around her boots.
Her body felt faint, her head too heavy for her neck. She was out of chances. 
It was then that she hoped she actually wasn't that close to Katrina's cabin. She didn't want her cousin to wake to a sight like this. 
A humid puff of air fanned across the back of (Y/N)'s neck, moving the baby hairs pasted to the nape. A quiet whimper tore from her throat, eyes stinging with more tears. 
Take her throat first, she wanted to beg. Kill her quickly. 
Instead of the hot slice of teeth through her flesh, she felt the nudge of a wet nose against her neck. A chuff sounding. 
(Y/N) sat still. Blood began to creep up the hem of her dress, sticking to her ankles. 
Another small chuff. A whine so broken and breathy. A whoosh of air bloomed at her side. 
Forcing herself to peel her head up, she saw the brown wolf, green-eyed and sleek, laying at her side. It looked up at her with bright eyes, something knowing flashing through them. Despite its large frame and bloody maw, it looked almost pathetic with its puppy-dog eyes and crossed paws. 
The beast had saved her. Unless this was an advanced species, having adapted a wolfy version of manipulation, this beast had saved her and wanted her to... live. 
She blinked at the beat. Still with a beating heart in her chest and each of her limbs attached to her body. 
This wasn't it. The beast before her wasn't her death. 
A savior, more like it. 
The pressure in her body came to a head, her ribs seemingly collapsing as sobs wracked her body. 
(Y/N) reached towards her savior, fingers skating through its bloody fur. Warmth seeped into her fingers at the touch, drawing her that much closer before practically falling into the beast.
The wolf reacted only in small scoots of its body coming closer, sharing it's warmth and comfort with her. Quiet chuffs sounded as it nosed at her neck. 
"You saved me," she whispered, the words watery and thin. "Y-You saved me." 
Though she would have normally scoffed at the idea of any part of this animal being knowing or intelligent, what she had seen tonight had showed her that there was nothing ordinary about this beast. She believed he knew what she was talking about when it cuddled closer to her, giving a small yip before its rough tongue tentatively licked over her neck. 
Not even a flinch was given at the contact. 
The beast had saved her and was now sharing its warmth with her. It was comforting her as if language was irrelevant when it came to communication.
(Y/N) wasn't sure how long she stayed wrapped around this creature, only that the chill had seeped from her body but her bones were incredibly stiff when she finally unfurled. Her tears had ran dry like the blood seeping from her injuries. 
The green eyes of the beast matched her own gaze, large and round as it took her in. It nosed at her chin, a chuff fanning over her skin. 
"My—" she cut herself off to clear her throat from the croaky state of her voice, "My cousin, she lives over here. I-I need to go to her." The loaves of bread were at the absolute bottom of her list, but a warm home was at the top. "W-Will you... stay?" 
In the back of her head, (Y/N) wanted to be concerned about the state of her sanity. But she knew, deep in the pit of her stomach, that this creature understood her. He knew what she was saying, what she was asking. 
Especially when it stood to its full height, head bobbing as if in a nod. 
The beast allowed her to grab his scruff to steady her as she stood to her feet. Every bone in her body suddenly became aware of how hard she had pushed herself to stay alive. Aches and bruises bloomed over her body. She stumbled, only for the wolf to sidle up to her, giving more support. 
"Sorry," she murmured, keeping her grip tight on the wolf as they started towards Katrina's cabin. 
Standing side by side, (Y/N) was hyperaware of just how large this creature was. The tufts of its ears peeked over her own head, leaving her at eye level with the beast. Her gait was stilted, but the wolf stayed at her side, though she was sure it could cover miles in less time than it would take her to move yards away. She could feel the probing gaze it gave her with each step, a primal feeling of concern bubbling behind its eyes. 
Katrina's cabin came into view, a kind of relief flooding her system that had her heart cracking. She could have fallen to her knees, thanking whatever deity it was that had kept her in its sights this evening. Though, she figured she knew well which one she needed to start with.
"Thank you," she murmured, a sad smile touching the corner of her lips as she looked to her creature. She slowed to a stop at the backside of Katrina's cottage, her kitchen window in view, complete with warm amber lighting seeping into the forest. A beacon. 
The beast butted its head against her shoulder. 
"You saved me," she repeated, visibly drooping. If not for the grip she had on his neck, she was sure she would have fallen. "Thank you." 
Another chuff. Another affectionate head-butt against her arm. 
The beast tipped its head just so, meeting her eyes under the pale moonlight. 
Emerald irises glimmered. So human, with understanding floating through them. 
As well as something far more familiar than should be seen in an animal. 
(Y/N) was well aware of just how deeply traumatizing this trek had become, but she refused to think it a crack in her sanity when she swore that the beasts eyes were ones she had seen before. A green so unique and enthralling.
A green she had only ever seen in the gaze of Harry Styles. 
The mayor's son. The shy man who had plucked (Y/N)'s attention every time he walked into the room, even if he didn't even know she existed.
The eyes of a human man. 
Maybe she was cracking already. 
She tipped her head just so, the wolf's eyes following the movement. 
"You... Your eyes...They—" 
(Y/N) was suddenly cut off at the clattering sound of Katrina's dingy door behind pushed open. 
"(Y/N)? Is that you?! You were supposed to be here hours ago!" 
Whipping her gaze to where Katrina was rounding the front of her home, peering around the porch and right to where she was standing. 
Right next to the wol—
A branch snapped in the forest. Moonlight glinted off a slick, blood-matted fur. The creature was gone, disappearing into the forest. Only the ghost of its warmth remained. 
"Oh, lord—(Y/N)! What happened?! Are you okay?"
Katrina raced towards her. No wolf was to be seen, no large creature that had saved her. 
"The w-wolf," she muttered, voice broken like the skin of her lips, "He—Katrina—" 
"What wolf?" her cousin asked, approaching (Y/N) with concerned eyes and worried features, "(Y/N), you're bleeding. What happened?!" 
"There... There were two wolves," she muttered, distractedly looking to her cousin, "One of them... It saved me." 
Katrina pinned her bottom lip between her teeth. Gentle hands landed on (Y/N)'s biceps. 
"Let's get you inside. You need to warm up, and then we can talk about everything. Okay?" 
(Y/N) didn't remember agreeing to the proposition, but she knew she made it inside the cottage. That was where, beside the fire, she had to wonder if what she had seen—the wolves, the glimmering eyes, the supernatural size and strength of the creatures—was even real. 
If she really had seen the eyes of Harry Styles in the sockets of a deadly beast. 
—————
"You are never going out like that again, (Y/N). Katrina isn't even that talented at baking!" 
(Y/N) cracked a smile at her mother's fretting. It had been this way all morning after Katrina had escorted her home. (As well as three loaves of bread and every pastry left to spare). 
"I won't, mother," (Y/N) vowed, just the same as she had the first dozen times her mother had made the same declaration. 
"Two wolves," she muttered, flying back to the kitchen to stir the soup simmering on the stove, "I cannot believe that kind of evil—so close! This town..." 
More angered mutterings sounded from the kitchen, but were cut off at the sound of a knock at the door. Before she could move a single inch from where she had been stationed on the couch,(Y/N)'s mother shouted that she would grab the door—do not move!
She watched as her moth pulled open the door, the guest being shielded from (Y/N)'s view. But she heard the voice. 
One that caused her heart to spike. Today, for a slightly different reason than the usual. 
Harry Styles was here. 
"Oh, thank you, Harry! She is going to love this, thank you." 
A rumbling tone sounded around her mother. (Y/N)'s name tossed in the mixed. 
"She's still very fragile, but you may come in and speak to her if you'd like." 
(Y/N)'s spine straightened. The sound of floorboards creaking under foreign weight filled her small home. Harry's head peeked over her mother's, complete with waving curls, a rich brown. The kind that would have gleamed so prettily under a clear, moonlit night. 
Harry's eyes met her as her mother escorted him inside. 
Green.
Unique and enthralling. 
A soft smile bloomed over his lips. "Hello," he greeted her, (Y/N)'s mother disappearing into the kitchen. "How are you feeling?" 
"I am alright," (Y/N) nodded, attempting to sit up before Harry urged her to stay just where she was. 
"No, don't move. You are alright hurt enough," he muttered, coming to crouch at the side of the chaise. Concern floated in his eyes—the kind of concern that (Y/N) almost wanted to place as guilt. 
"I really am alright. I look worse than I feel," she attempted to joke, though it fell flat when Harry only trapped his bottom lip between his teeth. 
A familiar circuit was run over the planes of her face, taking stock of every slight injury. 
Just like the emerald-eyed wolf. 
"I gave it to your mother, but my family put a few things together for your recovery. I hope they're able to bring you some comfort." He dropped his gaze from hers. "I cannot imagine going through what you did. You are incredibly brave." 
A warmth bubbled along her skin. At least that part was still normal—she was not immune to a dimple and pretty hair. 
"I wouldn't call myself brave, but I appreciate your words," she muttered, a bit sheepish at his praise, "All I did was run." 
"Sometimes, that is the smartest move to make," Harry murmured, a lopsided smile on his strawberry-hued mouth. "I am just glad you are alright. I've been worried sick since I heard the news." 
Her heart caught in her throat. He knew she existed—enough to worry about her well-being. 
"I am," he started, his throat bobbing as he swallowed, "so happy to see you. Please call on me if you need anything to help your recovery—anything at all."
"Um, I-I can do that." 
The dimpled smile that bloomed over his face was enough to have her throat clogged and lungs stilted. With a face this pretty, it was increasingly harder to find the similarities between the man before her and the blood-matted wolf in the woods.
"If it's alright with you," Harry started, voice dropping a tone lower as if sharing a secret, "I would like to request that if you ever need to make that trek again, that someone accompany you. Myself, included." 
(Y/N) didn't have to think before she was nodding her head. "I can do that." 
"Thank you," he smiled, a breathy laugh floating through his voice, "I am unable to stay long today, but I would like to check in on you this week. If that's alright with you." 
Tempering her reaction as much as she could, (Y/N) only gave a demure nod as Harry stood to the full of his height. "I don't have much else going on, but I suppose I can fit you into my schedule." 
Her tease was enough to draw a laugh from him. An achievement, as far as she was concerned. 
"I will see you tomorrow, then? If you're not already occupied," he played along, edging towards the open door. "And, please,"—he paused, the intensity of his gaze sitting squarely on her—"if you see another wolf with those yellow-eyes, tell me. Those seem to be more dangerous than the others." 
The next moments passed in a haze. She was sure Harry said goodbye to her mother and made plans for the following day. She was sure her mother praised Harry's kindness, talking him up to (Y/N) as if she didn't already know. She was sure her heart continued beating and her lungs continued filling. 
She was sure the world continued on, even when her mind stood still.
(Y/N) hadn't told anyone about the yellow eyes. 
—————
thank u sm for reading! so sorry for any mistakes but if you have any fun requests or anything at all please send them in!!!!
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velarisdusk · 5 months ago
Text
Beneath the Vines
Lucien Vanserra x Reader
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word count: 6.7k content: [ explicit sexual content, sex pollen (so, dub-con), unprotected PIV, public sex (forest setting), language, rough sex, biting/marking ] summary: Seeking refuge from court politics in a secluded part of the forest, Lucien meets a female from the Summer Court searching for a hidden spring. He offers to guide her, but their journey takes an unexpected turn when he comes into contact with a mysterious pollen... author's note: this idea has been cooking in the back of my mind since i finished the first book back in december, so i'm happy to finally share it :) writing some of his lines and the narration had me swooning i love him your honor ✦ . Masterlist . ✦
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Lucien let out a long breath as the sounds of the court faded behind him. Sunlight filtered through the leaves, dappling the forest floor with warm patches that shifted in the gentle breeze. He closed his eyes, focusing on the soft rustling of branches and distant birdsong. It was rare to find such quiet moments, free from the constant dance of court politics and expectations. As the tension in his shoulders slowly eased, Lucien allowed his thoughts to wander, no longer needing to guard every expression and word. 
His brow furrowed as he mulled over the latest reports from their border scouts. Hybern was growing bolder, their movements more frequent and less concealed. He’d tried to discuss it with Tamlin, but the High Lord seemed more concerned with maintaining the illusion of peace, instead focusing his people and efforts on the upcoming Calanmai festivities. 
A twig snapped beneath Lucien’s boot as he began to pace. Rumors were swirling through the courts. Whispers of Hybern’s king sending one of his most cunning generals to Prythian. Amarantha, they called her. The name tasted like ash on his tongue. 
He paused, leaning against a tree trunk, its rough bark grounding him. How long could the Spring Court afford to turn a blind eye? How long before the fragile peace between the courts shattered under the weight of this looming threat? Lucien’s gaze swept across the peaceful forest, so at odds with the turmoil in his mind. He’d seen firsthand how quickly alliances could shift, how devastating the fallout could be. This time, he vowed silently, he’d be prepared. Whatever storm was coming, he’d do everything in his power to ensure Spring weathered it. 
His ears pricked at the sound of rustling leaves, followed by the snap of a twig. In an instant, his posture changed from relaxed to alert. His hand flew to the dagger at his hip, drawing it in one fluid motion as he spun towards the source of the noise, russet eyes scanning the brush.
A figure emerged from behind a large oak, and Lucien found himself face to face with a female High Fae. She froze, eyes wide, clearly not expecting to encounter anyone else in this secluded part of the forest. Lucien’s grip on his dagger loosened slightly as he took in the unexpected sight before him. The female stood there, clearly startled, holding a woven tote bag over one shoulder. Her hair flowed slightly in the wind, and she wore a sheer, cream-colored crochet cover-up that did little to conceal the black swimsuit underneath. The ensemble was revealing for a trek through the forest. 
“Sorry to interrupt, kind sir,” she said sarcastically. “Just passing through.”
Lucien raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at his lips. “You’re going the wrong way.”
“How could you possibly know that? You don’t even—”
“You’re looking for the spring, right? It’s not that way.” He gestured to his left, far ahead. “It’s hidden, and not in the direction you were headed.”
She crossed her arms, clearly skeptical. “And you know this because…?”
Lucien chuckled softly. “Because I’ve spent more time exploring these woods than I’d like to admit.”
She started walking off in the direction he signaled, and he jogged a bit to keep pace with her. “I can show you the way, if you’d like.”
After a moment’s hesitation, came a shrug and a nonchalant response. “Alright, lead the way then.”
He didn’t try to hide his smirk at her casual demeanor. 
As they fell into step together, he couldn’t help but notice the graceful way she moved across the uneven forest floor. He broke the silence after a moment.
“You’re not from the Spring Court, are you?” he asked, his tone light and teasing. 
Her lips formed a small smile. “Is it that obvious? I’m visiting from the Summer Court. I heard tales of the hidden natural springs here and couldn’t resist seeking them out,” she replied. “And the heat wave made the idea of a cool spring irresistible.”
Summer, he mused. She had a brightness about her, a warmth that seemed out of place in the cool shade of the forest.
He chuckled. “Well, you’re in for a treat. Just beyond those trees over there, through the vines. I must admit, Summer, you certainly know how to find the most intriguing places.”
She glanced at him with a raised eyebrow. “‘Summer’?”
He grinned, a playful glint in his eyes. “Seems fitting for a female as radiant as yourself.”
An eye roll failed to hide the smile tugging at the corners of her soft lips. 
“I’m Lucien,” he said, extending his hand with his palm up. 
She hesitated for a moment before placing her hand gently in his. “(Y/N),” she replied, her eyes meeting his with a spark of curiosity and amusement. 
“A pleasure, Summer,” Lucien said, his voice low and smooth. He lifted her hand to his lips, brushing a soft kiss across the back of it.
She laughed, a melodic sound that seemed to blend with the sounds of spring around them. “Nice to meet you too, Lucien.”
He lingered for a moment, their hands still lightly clasped, before finally releasing her. “Shall we?” he asked, a smile playing on his lips, his eyes twinkling with intent. 
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
Their conversation flowed easily as they walked, with Lucien pointing out various plants and sharing tidbits about them.
“What’s this one?” she asked, pointing to a vibrant blue flower.
“That’s moonbloom. It only opens at night, used in sleeping draughts,” Lucien explained, pleased by her interest.
“And that? The tree with the silver bark?”
“Whisperwood. The Court’s best instruments are carved from it.”
Their exchange continued, with Lucien sharing more about the flora they passed. Eventually, he turned the conversation to her.
“Tell me about the Summer Court. I’ve spent some time there, though I suspect there’s always more to learn.”
“It’s vibrant and full of life. There are endless festivities, stunning beaches, and exquisite food. I may be biased but of all the courts I’ve visited, Summer definitely has the best cuisine. People are already preparing for the solstice even though it’s barely March.” A soft sigh. “But… the constant activity, the heat… it can be a bit overwhelming.”
Time seemed to slip away as they walked, the forest around them a lush backdrop to their discussion. Eventually, they reached a curtain of vines hanging between two ancient trees. 
Lucien stepped forward gently parting the greenery. A fine, glittering pollen dusted his hand as he brushed against the vines. He blinked, momentarily disoriented by a sudden rush of warmth through his body, but he attributed it to the day’s heat. 
"After you," he said, holding the vines open with a slight bow, trying to shake off the lightheadedness.
Amusement and appreciation danced in her eyes, accompanied by a warm smile as she stepped through the vines. Lucien followed, letting the vines fall back into place behind them. As they walked, a sweet scent filled his senses — warm vanilla mingled with honey and a hint of sea salt. He found himself inhaling deeply, drawn to the aroma.
As they rounded a large boulder, the spring came into view, its serene beauty unfolding before them. The sight before them was breathtaking. A lush, verdant oasis spread out in a natural amphitheater, encircled by towering trees draped with cascading vines. The milky white pool at the center was fed by a small, delicate waterfall, its gentle cascade a soothing murmur that filled the air. Vibrant moss cloaked the surrounding rocks and tree roots, forming an ethereal green expanse that stretched to the water’s edge. Exotic flowers in vibrant hues dotted the landscape, their colors a stark contrast to the predominantly green surroundings. Above, the canopy formed a natural dome, with sunlight filtering through the intricate patterns of leaves, casting a magical glow over the alcove. 
"It's beautiful," her words were hardly more than a breath, eyes widening in genuine awe as she tentatively stepped deeper into the sanctuary.
Lucien nodded, his gaze drawn between the spring and his companion. "The minerals in the water give it that color," he explained, his voice taking on a rich, velvety quality that surprised even him. He cleared his throat and leaned against a tree, arms crossed. He watched as she  set her woven tote bag onto a nearby rock. Reaching over her shoulder to unfasten the tie of her cover-up, the delicate fabric slipped off her shoulders, revealing soft, smooth skin. The way the bikini she wore fit every dip and curve deliciously. His breath hitched as his russet eyes lingered on her, watching her with an intensity that surprised him. 
Flip flops discarded, she dipped a toe into the water, a shiver running up her spine as the coolness contrasted with the warm air. “Oh, that’s refreshing,” she murmured, taking a tentative step into the spring.
The water was unlike any she had ever felt, a soothing mixture of cool and silky, enveloping her in a comforting embrace. She fully submerged herself, the refreshing sensation washing over her as she disappeared beneath the surface. When she emerged, droplets of water clung to her skin, shimmering in the sunlight. 
A warmth spread through Lucien’s veins, his pulse quickening as he watched her. The way the sunlight played on her skin, highlighting the gentle curves and the elegance of her movements, captivated him. His thoughts grew hazy, his usually sharp focus dulled by the inexplicable urge to be closer to her. His gaze traced the line of her neck, watching as the breeze gently lifted strands of her hair. Every subtle shift, every graceful motion seemed to draw him in further. The serene pool and vibrant surroundings had practically faded, leaving only the mesmerizing vision of his Summer Court visitor before him. 
His…?
Lucien shook his head a bit, a useless attempt to rid himself of the growing intensity of his thoughts. It had to be the heat, it was getting to him. 
“You look hot,” she said, snapping him out of his thoughts.
Lucien blinked, momentarily flustered as he took in the way her wet hair clung to her, the bathing suit now a shade darker and clinging to her curves. She looked exquisite, the milky white water droplets glistening on her skin like tiny jewels. “So do you, Summer,” he replied, a playful smirk forming on his lips.
She laughed, the sound like a light, bubbling brook. “I meant you’re dressed too warmly for this weather. Why don’t you join me and cool off?”
Lucien felt a rush of heat that had nothing to do with the weather. He forced himself to move slowly, deliberately, as he began to undress. His fingers deftly unfastened his tunic, revealing a chiseled chest and toned muscles beneath. The sunlight filtering through the leaves cast tantalizing shadows across his skin, highlighting every ridge and contour. 
As he shrugged off his tunic, he noticed the sticky pollen coating his hand. He tried to rub it off onto the fabric, but it clung stubbornly to his skin. He frowned slightly. No matter, it would come off in the water. 
He continued undressing, kicking off his boots and undoing his belt, letting it fall to the forest floor. As he slipped out of his trousers, now standing in just his boxers, he couldn’t help but notice her eyes following his every move.
Lucien caught her gaze and held it, a slow, knowing smile spreading across his face. He had been watching her watch him the entire time, a fact she only realized when she tore her eyes away from his body and looked up to meet his gaze.
With deliberate grace, he stepped into the water, the coolness a stark contrast to the heat bubbling beneath his skin. The spring’s translucent white waters swirled around his calves as he waded deeper, his eyes never leaving hers. 
He finally submerged himself, the water rippling around him as he moved closer to her. “Better?” he asked, his voice low and intimate, the playful smirk returning to his lips.
She felt her pulse quicken, the sight of him, all muscle and smooth confidence, stirring something deep within her. “Much,” she replied, a smile playing at her lips. 
They floated together in the cool water, the soothing embrace of the spring relaxing their muscles. Lucien watched as she dipped her head back, letting her hair float around her like a halo. She closed her eyes, a look of pure bliss on her face.
“This place is incredible,” she said softly, her eyes still closed. “I can’t believe it’s real.”
Lucien smiled, his own tension easing in the tranquil atmosphere. “It’s one of the Spring Court’s hidden gems. Not many know about it.”
Her eyes fluttered open, meeting his with a flicker of curiosity. “How did you find it?”
He shrugged, moving closer. “I stumbled upon it years ago, during a particularly stressful time. This general area of the forest has been my escape ever since.”
They fell into a comfortable silence, simply enjoying the peaceful surroundings and the coolness of the water. Lucien felt a tingling heat spreading through his body, no longer the gentle warmth of before. His thoughts kept drifting back to the female in front of him, the way her skin glistened with water droplets, to the curve of her lips when she smiled. He wanted to feel those lips.
He tried to push the thoughts aside, but the more he tried to ignore it, the more intense it became, his desire for her was becoming harder to control, the need to touch her, to feel her against him, was almost overwhelming. 
“This spring is said to have unique properties,” he continued, his eyes lingering on her face, her eyes, her lips. “Some say that bathing in its waters can bring good fortune, or help with one’s artistic talents.” He chuckled softly. “But others speak of it being enchanted in a more intimate way.”
This provoked a turn of the head and a raised eyebrow, curiosity peaked. "Well, I never cared much for fortune, and I’m a sorry excuse for an artist,” she laughed softly. “So what have you heard? About the intimacies of the spring?” An almost knowing smile graced her lips. 
He swallowed, trying to cover it up with a nonchalant shrug. “They say,” he began, slowly, “that the waters can awaken one’s deepest desires. Enhance one’s… physical urges.”
She smirked at that. “Sounds to me like whoever came up with that got to this spring already horny,” she laughed. At the shit-eating grin on his face, her laughter grew infectious. “Oh, shut the fuck up,” she said, playfully shoving his shoulder.
But the touch was searing. He hissed, a jolt of electricity shot through Lucien’s body, his skin burning where her fingers made contact. His pulse quickened, and he felt a raw, primal need flare up inside him. The laughter faded, replaced by a charged silence. Every muscle in his body tensed as he struggled to keep composed. 
“Lucien?” Concern laced her voice. She reached out for him, but he flinched away from her touch, bringing his hands up to stop her. Hurt flashed across her face until she noticed… “What’s that on your hand?”
She reached out again, but he pulled his hand back, glancing at the sticky pollen coating his skin. Suddenly, it clicked. He knew what this was, had heard tales of its effects but had never encountered it personally.
“It’s… it’s this pollen,” he said, his voice tinged with embarrassment. “It must’ve been on the vines at the entrance. I can’t believe I didn’t put two and two together…”
A mix of curiosity and concern filled her eyes. “What does it do?”
Lucien took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. He could hear his heart thrumming in his ears and wanted nothing more in that moment than to throw himself at the female mere feet across from him. “The pollen is known to,” he pauses with a sigh, choosing his words carefully. “It causes arousal, an intense arousal, making it almost impossible to think about anything else. It heightens every sensation, makes my skin feel like it’s on fire whenever you touch me.” She could see his chest rising and falling more shallowly, could hear his breaths coming more rapidly, could see his pupils dilate each time he looked at her. He hesitantly added, “The only way to get rid of its effects is through… physical intimacy.”
Her eyes widened slightly, understanding dawning on her. “You mean…?”
He nodded, though his regretful expression barely concealed his longing. “Yes, but don’t concern yourself. This isn’t your problem to solve,” he said, his voice strained yet resolute. “I’ll return home and find a way to… handle this. You’re under no obligation here.”
Lucien’s jaw clenched, clearly struggling with the pollen’s effects, but his eyes remained steady. “I apologize, it was careless of me not to recognize the signs sooner.”
With that, he turned, moving to exit the spring and retrieve his clothes. The cool water swirled around him as he took a step, but he felt a hand grasp his bicep, halting his retreat. The contact sent a shockwave of heat through his body, as if her hold would be permanently marked on the flesh there. His muscles coiled tightly beneath her touch, and he had to force himself to contain a whimper that threatened to escape his throat. Every sensation was amplified, transforming the simple gesture into an exquisite torment. He glanced back, his eyes darkening, surprise giving way to raw, unadulterated need. 
“It’s not such an inconvenience,” she said softly, her gaze meeting his with an intensity that made his skin prickle with anticipation.
His eyes widened in surprise, but she rolled hers, a playful smirk forming on her lips. “Don’t act so surprised, Lucien.” His name on her tongue sent a jolt of arousal through him, and he only realized now how painfully constricted his cock was. “It’s obvious I want you, and I think you wanted me even before the pollen?”
He nodded, swallowing hard. “I did. I do.”
Her smirk turned into a gentle smile as she reached out again, tracing a finger down his chest. “So let me help you.”
Lucien’s body tensed, caught between desire and restraint. “Wait,” he said, his voice husky. As he spoke, his hand dipped beneath the water, fingers flexing unconsciously. “You should know… I’ve managed to control myself thus far, but if we continue…” He paused, swallowing hard, his voice dropping to a low, strained growl. “Once I feel you, I won’t be able to stop.”
His fingers curled into a fist underwater. Most of the visible pollen had washed away, leaving only faint traces on his skin, but its effects still coursed through his body. The cool water did nothing to dull the rush of his blood pumping in his ears. With a barely perceptible shake of his head, he refocused on her, his eyes full of want. 
“The pollen… it’s mostly gone now,” he managed, his breath nothing more than rhythmic, short pants. “But it’s like it’s under my skin, in my blood. I can feel it everywhere.” He unclenched his fist, watching as the last remnants of the pollen dissipated into the vast pool, now diluted and rendered harmless. “You won’t be affected, but I…” His eyes bore into hers, desperation in his voice as he spoke, “I’m burning for you, (Y/N).”
With a tender smile, she closed the distance between them. Her hands cupped his face, thumbs gently caressing his cheekbones. Lucien's breath caught in his throat, her touch igniting sparks beneath his skin. His hands remained steadfast on the large stone submerged beneath the water behind him, as though touching her might shatter what fragile self-control he had left.
"It's okay," she whispered, her breath ghosting over his lips. "I've got you."
She leaned in, pressing her lips to his with exquisite softness. The kiss was slow, deliberate, a stark contrast to the fire raging within him. Lucien's eyes fluttered closed, overwhelmed by the sensation. Even in the cool water, heat radiated from his skin, and where her lips met his, it felt as though he might combust.
She drew back slightly, placing feather-light kisses along his jaw, then down his neck. Each touch was like a brand, marking him, stoking the flames of his desire. Seeing his hesitation, she gently guided his trembling hands to her waist. The sensation of her bare skin beneath her fingertips sent a shiver through him, and he instinctively bucked his hips against her, a long, deep whine escaping his lips like a plea. The sound shot straight to her core. 
"(Y/N)," he breathed, her name a prayer on his lips. 
A mischievous glint sparked in her eyes. “Not ‘Summer’ anymore? I was starting to think you’d forgotten my name,” she spoke against his neck.
Lucien’s gaze was unfocused, looking at the vines on the other side of the spring, pupils dilated as he struggled to process her words. His breath came in short, ragged pants, and a fine tremor ran through his body. “Forget your name?” he murmured into her ear, his voice hoarse. Each word seemed to cost him great effort, as if speaking required immense concentration. “Darling, it’s the only word my mind can form right now.”
His fingers tightened on her waist, seeking an anchor as the world around him seemed to blur, leaving only her in sharp focus.
The gentleness of her actions was both a balm and a torment. His body screamed for more, for friction, for release from this exquisite agony. Yet he found himself surrendering to her pace, allowing her to lead him through this intoxicating haze. 
She returned to his lips, deepening the kiss ever so slightly. Lucien responded with a low moan, the sound vibrating through both of them. The gentle waves of the spring embraced them, their cool touch contrasting with the heat building between them, intensifying every sensation.
Without breaking the kiss, Lucien’s hands tightened on her waist, subtly guiding them towards a shallower part of the water. He felt the solid presence of a smooth, submerged stone beneath him and sank down onto it, pulling her closer. She straddled him, her legs on either side of his, pressing her body against his so deliciously that he couldn’t help it when his hips bucked up hard against hers. She gasped in surprise, the sound mingling with their shared breath.
“I’m sorry, I—” he began, but she silenced him by grinding down onto him, her movements deliberate and slow, a wordless reassurance that sent yet another pulse of need crashing through him. His mind spun, every point of contact between them sent his nerves into a frenzy. Her skin felt like silk under his fingers, warm and inviting. He let his hands roam, tracing the curve of her back, feeling the subtle shift of muscles beneath her skin. The way she moved against him, the soft gasps and moans escaping her lips, were a symphony that played directly into the hot coil within him. His hands wandered further, exploring every inch of her, committing the feel of her to memory. He caressed her sides, ran his fingers along the edges of her swimsuit. His touch was gently yet firm, reflecting his reverence for her as well as the uncontrollable hunger that coursed through him. 
But it wasn’t enough. The burning within him grew fiercer with each passing second. He needed more, craved more. The sensation of her grinding against him was driving him to the edge of sanity. It was sweet torture, the ache of unfulfilled need becoming almost unbearable. Lucien’s breaths came in ragged gasps, his body screaming for more, for release — demanding it. The longing was a physical pain, a fire that consumed him from the inside out. 
“Please,” he groaned, his voice rough and low, a powerful undercurrent of desperation threading through it. “I need more, (Y/N). I can’t take it… I need you.” His eyes locked onto hers, a fierce determination in their depths, even as his words pleaded for relief. His grip tightened on her waist, guiding her movements with urgency and restraint, his body trembling with the effort to hold back. “Please,” he repeated, his voice a pained rasp. 
“You need me?”
A single, tense nod.
She looked up at him, her eyes reflecting the same need. “Then take me,” she whispered back, her voice trembling with anticipation.
Lucien captured her lips once more, much more hungrily this time, their bodies moving together in the water. Her hands raked over the expanse of his back, nails lightly digging in. She relished the feel of his muscles tensing beneath her touch, the warmth of his skin under her fingertips. Every contour and ridge of his body seemed sculpted for her hands alone. The power in his frame, the way he responded to her every touch, sent a thrill through her. Her hands wandered, exploring the strong lines of his shoulders, the firm muscles of his chest, and the tautness of his abdomen. Each caress was deliberate, savoring the sensation of his body and the way it reacted to her. 
Lucien's breath hitched as her hands moved lower, feeling the hard planes of his stomach, tracing the edge of his waistband. Her touch was both curious and confident, a gentle exploration and bold possession. 
With a low groan and little thought, Lucien's hands moved to her bikini top, tugging it up just enough to expose her chest. He sucked in a sharp breath, only taking a moment to admire them before descending upon them, his mouth eagerly finding her exposed skin. He left a collection of red and purple marks across them, and she couldn't help but hum softly at the sensation.
Smiling, she pulled the bikini top the rest of the way off, tossing it to the shoreline. “Impatient, aren’t we?” she remarked, her voice breathless and not nearly as teasing as she’d hoped it’d be.
Lucien looked up at her, his eyes so different than when they’d first encountered each other not an hour prior, a smirk playing at his lips. “Only for you,” he murmured before his mouth returned to her skin, his kisses hungry and possessive, leaving a trail of marks across her chest. He shifted slightly, the water lapping at his chest. Her fingers traced idle patterns on his shoulder, not ceasing the movement of her hips. 
“You’re trembling,” she whispered, concern evident in her voice.
He straightened, catching her hand and bringing it to his lips. “It’s unbearable. Every touch, every breath…I feel like I’m burning from the inside out.” He swallowed hard and brought her hand to the nape of his neck, leaning into her touch as if it were a lifeline. 
“Are you sure this is helping…? Maybe we could try—”
“(Y/N),” Lucien interrupted, his eyes wild and craving. “Doing anything but this would destroy me. I’ve never felt anything like this before, but I know… I know that I need you. All of you. I need to feel every inch of you against me.” His gaze locked onto hers, pupils dilated. “Your touch,” he choked out, “is both torment and salvation. I crave it like I crave air to breathe.” Lucien’s hands trembled as they moved to her hips, urging her closer. His fingers splayed across her skin, desperate to eliminate any remaining space between them. “Please,” he whispered, the word barely audible over the soft lapping of the water.
She shivered against him, not from the water, but from the raw emotion in his voice. She brought her hand from the back of his neck to his face, her thumb stroking his cheek. 
“Lucien,” his name on her tongue was so pleasing to his ears. He couldn’t help but close his eyes, lean into her touch.
Her other hand trailed down his chest, his abdomen, finally reaching the waistband of the only thing keeping all of him from her. 
“Let me take care of you,” she murmured, her lips ghosting over his ear. Her hand traveled further yet, getting ahold of him, cupping him, squeezing him, feeling the size and weight of him.
He sucked a breath in through his teeth, muscles taut. A strangled moan escaped from his lips, closing his eyes and rolling his head back. He dug his fingers into her hips, only vaguely aware of the frustrating barrier of her swimsuit. “(Y/N)...” Her touch, her ministrations, it was all so intense. “You’re driving me insane,” he growled.
A low chuckle emanated from her. “Say my name like that again, let me hear it.”
He obliged, her name falling from his lips like a reverent prayer, drawing out each syllable like a sinful plea. 
Her eyes rolled into the back of her head. Whether it was from his voice or the fact that he was tugging her bottoms off, he had no idea. But the sounds she let out were mouthwatering. He watched as she shuddered and moaned beneath his touch, letting out grunts and curses of his own. “Gods,” he rasped, his voice thick. “You sound so beautiful when you moan for me.”
She squeezed him sinfully at that bit of praise, moaning his name quietly. 
“Please touch me, (Y/N)... It hurts…”
In that moment she caved, both of them lifting up a bit to allow the other to rid them of their last bits of clothing. She tugged him a few times, grip tight and movements long. He rocked into her hand, a string of curses falling from his lips. Normally he wouldn’t unravel so quickly, but with every sensation magnified, he’d be surprised if he lasted another minute. 
“Sweetheart, you have to… Gods, please don’t stop,” he managed to gasp out, his hips rocking eagerly, his face scrunched in concentration. 
She met his gaze, her eyes darkening with desire. Nodding slightly, her breath coming out in puffs, she continued, increasing her pace while he maintained his movements into her hand. Lucien’s breath caught, his muscles tensed as waves of pleasure washed over him. He clung to her desperately, burying his face into the crook of her neck to muffle his increasingly vocal responses. His release coated her hand, but quickly washed away into the water as she continued stroking him through it. She murmured soft encouragements all the while. 
She felt his weight slumped against her, heard his breathing slow, found herself wondering if it had passed. She held him close, running a soothing hand along his back, through the hair and the nape of his neck.
When he finally lifted his head, she was ready to greet him with a warm smile, but where she expected either newfound calm or lingering distress, she found neither. On the contrary, it almost seemed as if their actions amplified his hunger. 
Lucien wrapped his arms around her in a tight embrace and found himself rutting his hips up, thoughtlessly trying to find her entrance. She gained purchase on a stone behind him, her chest hovering over his face. With a groan, he released one of his arms from around her, using the hand to guide himself. But when his fingers brushed against her and she let out the softest, most helpless whimper he’d heard in his life, he couldn’t help himself. He wanted to hear more from her. He replaced the head of his cock with his fingers, shakily grazing over her folds. 
Her repeated mantra of “oh’s” and “yes’s” goaded him on, and as he dipped his fingers further through them, he slowly thrusted the still-hard length of himself along her cunt. The caress of both on her sensitive skin getting to be too much. “Lucien, why don’t you just—” What bordered on a wail interrupted her words when he let his tip brush against her clit, the first meaningful relief of pressure she’d gotten there all this time. 
“Wanna feel you, wanna make sure you’re alright,” she could hardly recognize his voice, it sounded pained, his words slurred. “Don’t want… to hurt you.” When he went to slip his fingers into her, she pulled them away, moving to seat herself on him.
“Don’t worry about me,” she assured him she was alright. “I’m helping you, just worry about yourself, okay?” But he shook his head, insisting that he wanted her to feel just as good as he did. “I will. I am.” With that, she lowered herself slowly, taking him inch by inch. Their faces were a mirror of shared ecstasy, expressions soft with contentment. They were entwined — she cradled in his embrace, he sheathed within her warmth. 
Lucien's world had narrowed to this single point in time and space. Any remaining semblance of coherent thought dissolved entirely. The feel of her skin, the sound of her breath, the scent of her hair — these were the only realities that existed for him now. Nothing else mattered — not the court, not his duties, not even his own name. There was only her, only this. 
A low growl rumbled in his chest as he tightened his hold, desperate to remove any open space from between them. His thoughts scattered like leaves in a storm, leaving only base instinct and overwhelming need.
“(Y/N),” he huffed, voice rough with emotion. “I can’t… I need…”
Words failed him, but his body spoke volumes. Trembling muscles, racing pulse, sharp breaths. He was a male consumed. Lucien heard her voice distantly. 
“It’s okay… Take what you need, Lucien.”
As she pulled herself up, something primal awakened in him. Lucien drove his hips up into her and moved with fervent intensity, his actions far beyond conscious control. Every fiber of his being sang with pleasure, drowning out all else. Nothing beyond this moment.
He was dimly aware of sounds escaping him — groans, gasps, fragmented words of reverence. There was only feeling, only her, only them. 
The spring water surged around them, disturbed by the frenzied movements of their bodies. Each trust was relentless, powerful, driven by an urgent need. Lucien’s hands guided her by the hips with a force that left no room for gentleness.
He groaned her name, told her he needed more of her. He didn’t know how it would be possible, in this moment she was his everything. 
Her responses were lost in a series of breathless moans and gasps, her fingers digging into his shoulders as she tried to match his relentless rhythm. “Lucien… don’t stop… please…”
The words spurred him on, his pace now frantic. His eyes bore into hers. Every thrust, every movement, was a raw expression of his need, amplified by the pollen’s effects coursing through his veins.
Her nails raked down his back, leaving red trails in their wake. She clung to him, feeling the intensity of his desire in each powerful motion. The friction and pressure were overwhelming, pushing her closer and closer to the edge. Her body responded to his instinctually, her moans and cries echoing through the trees around them.
“So… damn good… So tight,” he groaned into her.
She gasped, her head thrown back, eyes squeezed shut as she rode him, rode the pleasure coursing through her. “Lucien… oh gods… you’re so deep, I can’t,” she buried her face into the crook of his neck. All she saw was the tanned color of his skin, the golden red of his hair, and smelled the earthy scent of cedar and fresh rain, mingling with the faintest hint of smoke and spice.
He shook his head. “Don’t hold back… Let me hear you. Tell me—fuck—tell me how good it feels.”
Her voice came out in broken gasps, each word punctuated by a moan. “It’s… so good… you’re so good... I can't... I need…”
Lucien's lips found her neck, his teeth grazing her skin before he sucked hard, leaving a mark. "Need what, darling? I want to hear you say it."
"Need you... need you to make me come," she confessed, her voice trembling with need. "Please, Lucien... I’m so close."
He groaned in response, the sound vibrating against her skin. "Anything for you, love." His mouth trailed down to her chest, his lips closing around one of her nipples. He sucked hard, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh, sending jolts of pleasure straight to her core.
She cried out, her fingers tangling in his hair, holding him close. "Lucien... yes, just like that... don't stop..."
His free hand snaked between their bodies, fingers seeking out her clit. He rubbed in firm, deliberate circles, matching the rhythm of his thrusts. The combined sensations of his mouth on her nipple, his fingers on her clit, and the relentless drive of his hips were too much.
Her body tensed, a strangled cry escaping her lips as she teetered on the edge of release. Lucien bit down gently on her nipple, the sudden spike of pain mingling with the overwhelming pleasure, pushing her over the edge. She shattered around him, her orgasm ripping through her with an intensity that left her breathless and trembling.
Lucien didn’t slow, riding out her climax, his own release following swiftly. With a final, powerful thrust, he let out a primal roar, spilling into her with a force that made stars dance behind his eyelids.
For a moment, they were locked together, their breaths harsh and mingled, hearts racing in unison. Slowly, as the intensity of their climaxes began to fade, they slumped into the water, still entwined, the spring's cool embrace a stark contrast to the heat of their encounter.
Lucien pressed his forehead against hers, his breath still coming in ragged gasps. "Are you... alright?" he managed to ask, his voice hoarse with lingering desire and concern.
She nodded weakly, a satisfied smile playing on her lips. "More than alright," she replied, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on his chest. "That was... incredible."
He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through both of them. 
She lifted her head slightly, looking into his eyes. "How are you feeling now?"
Lucien took a deep breath, still holding her close. "I still feel it," he admitted, his voice softer now, more controlled. "But it's much more manageable.”
A small smile tugged at her lips. "I'm glad," she murmured, running her fingers through his hair. "I was worried for a moment there."
He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, his eyes softening. "You were amazing," he whispered. 
They lingered in the water for a few more moments, their breaths slowly returning to normal. But the connection between them, the raw need, was still there, simmering beneath the surface.
And then Lucien moved again, his hands sliding down to grip her hips. "But I think," he said, his voice taking on that rough, hungry edge once more, "that we have a bit more to take care of."
She shivered in anticipation, her own desire flaring up once again. "What do you have in mind?" she asked, a teasing lilt to her voice.
His answer was a low growl as he shifted their positions, lifting her up and guiding her onto a nearby rock. He took her again there, their bodies moving together with a renewed intensity. Then, he turned her around, bending her over it, her cries echoing through the spring as he thrust into her from behind.
They moved to the water's edge next, Lucien pulling her onto his lap as he sat on a submerged boulder. She rode him hard, the water splashing around them as their movements grew more frantic.
Later, he laid her down on a bed of soft moss, hovering over her as he entered her again. The rhythm of his thrusts was relentless, each one pushing them both closer to the edge once more.
And when they finally left the spring, sated but still hungry for each other, Lucien carried her back to his chambers. He laid her on his bed, driven by a deeper need, something more enduring. There, in the privacy of his room, he took her yet again, their bodies entwined in a dance of passion and connection, free from any enchantments, driven only by their desire for each other.
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istodayajewishholiday · 2 months ago
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17 October 2024 - 15 Tishrei 5785
Yes, today is Sukkot! Sukkot is the "Feast of Booths"! The festival lasts seven days in Israel, and eight days in the diaspora. Sukkot is observed by “dwelling” in a temporary walled structure with a roof of natural materials called a sukkah. The holiday has agricultural significance, it is the Feast of Ingathering, and served to signify the way the Israelites shielded themselves from danger following the Exodus from Egypt. In addition to eating meals in the sukkah observances include gathering the Four Kinds, a citron, a palm frond, myrtle twigs, and willow twigs. Chag Sameach! Have a joyous Sukkot!
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What the heck is happening to my most recent addition on the Festive Twig post? First my text wasn't showing up in people's reblogs, and so edited it and copy/pasted it below the image instead of above to see if it would help, and now the image isn't showing up but the text is??
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justporo · 1 year ago
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Stolen Kisses
Astarion is not a big fan of all these winter traditions - except one: he sneaks a mistletoe into the house, patiently and joyously waiting to pester Tav with kisses.
MASTERLIST | AO3
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Author's Note: Written for the "Mistletoe" prompt of the BG3 Winter Holiday challenge. Anything to get him kisses, hm? Ain't that right, Astarion?
Pairing: Astarion/GN!Tav (You) Warnings: none Wordcount: 1,5k
~~~
Astarion really wasn’t a big fan of winter and the cold. He also really didn’t like the whole holiday festivities and traditions that came with it. In fact, he really despised all of it. This time of year always had been an especially hurtful time when the vampire desperately realised that he was damned to stalk the streets of this city - alone and miserable.
However, things were different now. For the first time in over 200 years he wasn't alone when the Midwinter festivities rolled around and everyone was cosying up with their family or their loved ones. In fact, he never had to be alone again now, he always had you by his side. Astarion knew he could always hug you, talk to you, wrap his arms around you. And kiss you.
And even though he still wasn't overly excited about all the holiday fuss, there was one tradition he wanted to take part in: put up a mistletoe and pester you with kisses under it whenever possible. Because that was what he deserved wasn't it? To make up for all the misery he had had to experience. Kisses by his true love - he wouldn't pass up the opportunity. Just the thought already made him smile broadly - although if you’d caught him about it he would have kept insisting that this was nothing but a joke to him. 
So, one day during winter time the vampire snuck some mistletoe into the house and sneakily placed it high up on the doorframe to your living room. Of course Astarion was set on teasing you with kisses at every given opportunity. Not that he wasn’t that already but this just gave him another excuse to be insufferable.
But the vampire wasn’t as masterful about making his plans as he liked to make other people think. He’d forgotten the one thing in the equation that might ruin all of it: you.
Because you had immediately noticed the small twigs hanging high above the door frame - and had deliberately made it a point to not give the vampire a single chance to catch you with a kiss. In fact, you were enjoying yourself way too much when you noticed how the vampire’s eyes suspiciously narrowed every time you stopped exactly in front of the doorframe or just rushed through it before he could step up to you. And so you kept this game up way longer than you had initially intended to. And with this making the vampire almost scale the walls from impatience.
At first Astarion brushed off the failures as bad luck. But as you kept avoiding meeting him under the mistletoe he quickly became annoyed that his nice simple plan hadn't worked. And it became harder and harder for you to contain yourself whenever you dodged another kiss.
When this had gone on for like a week, Astarion had finally enough of the shenanigans and made it his task to lurk in the living room until he would have gotten his well deserved kiss. When you had gone out to run some errands he made himself comfortable in the window alcove with a drink, a book and a long breath to catch you; just waiting and brooding.
You had gone out to the city to grab some ingredients for a few new cooking experiments and of course knew nothing of the trap that had been laid out by the hunter. So when you came back from your trip to town you went to check on Astarion.
You went through the front door, entered the hallway and shook off some of the snow from your coat.
“Astarion?”, you called out, bags with stuff still in your hand.
“Yes, my love”, you heard him call back from the living room. He sounded kind of weird. Your brows furrowed - was something the matter? You took of your coat and boats and silently made your way through the hallway. The bags you simply left in the hallway.
Then you made it a point to stop just a bit before the doorframe and stick only your head through the doorframe with a grin. You still hadn’t given up on your little game.
 And there sat the vampire in the window alcove: arms crossed over his chest, positively brooding and glowering at you. His drink long empty and book long forgotten in his impatience. Your brows furrowed again.
“Is something wrong, love?”, you asked carefully but did not move.
“You tell me, my heart”, Astarion said in a sudden burst of losing the rest of his patience. He liked when you played hard to get - but only if you gave in by the end.
He took a deep breath. “Why don’t you step closer?”, now his tone was teasing, dripping with honey but his demeanour was still sour.
Your gestures betrayed you then, eyes flicking up to the mistletoe just for a split second. And when you looked back at Astarion you saw his victorious glint in it combined with a predatory grin now. Oh, oh.
You had been found out. Now, you had to decide - keep up the shenanigans or let the trap snap shut.
“Come, darling, indulge me, just one more step”, Astarion whispered softly, trying to lure you in now as he slowly got up from his seat and prowled closer to you. A grin so broad it showed off his pronounced canines spread over the vampire’s face. Your pulse was starting to race. As promising as he looked and sounded, your pride wouldn’t allow you to just give in.
You took a careful step closer so that you’d be standing exactly under the mistletoe and tried to give off the air of an innocent little lamb - your eyes wide, lips slightly parted as the vampire approached its prey. Astarion’s eyes were already widening in anticipation, grin growing even broader than before.
But you wouldn’t just give it to him - he’d have to catch you if he wanted kisses.
Astarion was already stretching out an arm as he kept stalking closer to you - for all his broody behaviour you saw the love for you reflect in his eyes. But you were still not above taking the piss out of your partner. In the last possible moment before he could touch you, you grinned, stuck out your tongue at him and then turned on your heel and ran. With a hysterical giggle you raced through the hallway and up the stairs. Years as a thief had made you very good at running away and getting away with it. But the vampire had two hundred years of hunting in the shadows.
Immediately, you heard Astarion chase after you with a hissed: “Come back here, you insolent little thing. Don’t make me hang up mistletoes everywhere in this house!” You just laughed as you kept running and then threw open the door to your joint bedroom. But that made you lose precious moments.
Just when you had entered the bedroom, you felt that Astarion was immediately behind you. You made for a desperate rush towards the bed but just before you could jump up on it, the vampire wrapped his arms around you and tackled you onto the bed. You squealed and writhed under him in between fits of laughter, as Astarion straddled you and turned you around to him - he was grinning victoriously.
“Come here now, love! You’ve stolen enough of my rightfully earned kisses, you little scoundrel”, Astarion said in a mocking tone and bowed down to you until his face almost met yours. He grabbed your chin with his hand while you kept snickering, trying to get him off you again.
“Don’t resist, my heart, you’ll only be punished with more kisses”, Astarion muttered to you and one of his eyebrows twitched playfully as he brought his lips almost to yours.
“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Astarion”, you replied as you felt that the mood had suddenly changed drastically.
“Oh, but this is my specialty, my love”, the vampire replied in a deep voice that made the breath catch in your throat.
You gave up trying to wiggle out of his grasp.
“Tell me then, how can I appease you for the lost kisses under the mistletoe?”, you whispered back in response and tried to crane your neck so you could press a kiss to Astarion’s lips, but the vampire moved out of your reach - very obviously payback for what you had just done. Astarion smirked his signature lop-sided grin at you.
“Well”, he answered and cocked his head, “we can start like this.” And then he leaned back down, pressing a kiss to where your pulse was thundering from the chase and now something else entirely.
Astarion kissed his way up your throat and along your jawline softly then he lifted his head up again: “And if you’ll behave now I might forgive you for stealing from me.”
And then he finally fully kissed you.
Tag list: @spacebarbarianweird @sunfire-ancunin @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess @darlingxdragon
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jolapeno · 7 days ago
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festive encouragement
francisco "frankie" morales x f!reader (nicknamed twigs)
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Summary: Frankie hates the holidays. Twigs, his roommate, doesn’t. When she gets injured, he steps in to help finish her Christmas errands—only to realise his crush on her might be something more.
Wordcount: 4k Warnings: None. All fluff. Friends to lovers. Roommates. Christmas fluff. Fluff + fluff. Third person. Lots of fairylights. AN: This is part of @beefrobeefcal 's Festive Failure 2024 Challenge, my prompt was: Frankie Morales needs 'encouragement' to feel 'festive'.
READ ON AO3
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sleepyorchidmonster · 1 month ago
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You know, considering Nahida's and Rukkhadevata's self-sacrificing tendencies (I'll just use my power and turn into a twig no problem) alongside Deshret's often insane and reckless ideas (who makes an agreement for an ancient dragon to consume you after your death????) it's honestly a miracle that Rukkhadevata wasn't just perpetually aranara-sized during her time ruling alongside Deshret and Nabu Malikata.
I can just see Nabu Malikata returning from a business trip to Liyue or something, only to find a panicked Deshret sitting next to a potted plant that looks like a mini Irminsul.
Turns out Deshret got a little bit too silly with his last search for forbidden knowledge and Rukkhadevata had to use almost all of her power to stop the potential crisis. Now he's trying to find out how to care for a plant that's literally Irminsul while waiting for the Aranara to arrive.
Another time, Deshret came back and found Nabu Malikata babysitting Rukkhadevata, who had turned into a child.
And, while both gods know that they should probably ask the rainforest dwellers for help, they kind of don't trust the sages. Especially when the Grand Sage at the time suggested keeping Rukkhadevata locked up in the Sanctuary of Surasthana until she regained her powers..... So now there's an unspoken agreement that only the desert and Vanarana are safe places for a weakened Dendro Archon.
I would also like to point out that the (former) Grand Sage barely escaped with his life.
After that initial scare, Deshret would probably come up with a way to transfer dendro or knowledge to Rukkhadevata so she'd get her powers back, but the funniest option would be both him and Nabu Malikata having to do the whole Aranyaka quest to host the Festival Utsava.
People wonder where the Sumeru God Kings are, turns out they're organizing a festival for the Aranara (Deshret and Nabu are doing the preparations, Rukkhadevata is currently a child and is just playing with the Aranara).
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bits-and-babs · 2 years ago
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Hey darling! Finally sending an ask, that link list inspired me haha. Pretty please can I have Din Djarin x mirror sex but specifically the mirror being a reflection from a piece of his armour across the room👀
Thanks in advance, love you long time 💕
𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐔𝐒 — 𝐃𝐈𝐍 𝐃𝐉𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍
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» PAIRING : The Mandalorian x f!Reader
» CONTENTS : Sexy reflections, p in v sex, cream pie (wrap it, guys, I mean it), overstimulation, filthy Mando talk, use of Mando’a. 18+, ya nasties.
» DIN MASTERLIST : here || MAIN MASTERLIST : here
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You know he can see you, that he’s noticed exactly what occupies your attention. Perhaps it’s shallow of you that you continue to have such an affinity for the armour even after all this time. His smooth, reflective breastplate gleams in the twin sunlight of Tatooine like a polished jewel, your face projected back to you on the surface.
The Mandalorian is observant. You are confident he’s twigged the way you never quite look into his visor, instead occupied by your own face staring back at you in the gouged ‘cheekbones’ of his helmet. He would often clear his throat to recapture your attention when you found yourself momentarily distracted by the mirror image in his chest plate.
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Yes, you were aware of how it looked. It appeared self-obsessed, narcissistic even, but you couldn’t shake the vivid daydream that occupied your mind, rattling around while Mando spoke and drowning out his soft, husky voice.
Stars, you wanted to fuck him. Every waking moment of the day, you were consumed by your own arousal for The Mandalorian, all triggered by one solitary thought a few weeks ago when you had caught your reflection in his pauldron.
‘I’d be able to watch him fuck me’.
The salacious thought, previously only an intrusive yet fleeting imaginary scenario, had grown into a devastatingly consuming addiction. You imagined it, his chest plate reflecting his thick, ruddy cock spearing into you, your thighs slick with your own cum and glistening on the surface of the armour. How you’d see your own body tremble and writhe against the hangar floor, overcome by the arousal he drew from you and arching your ba-
“Hey,” Mando’s ever so slightly frustrated tone rips you from your scandalous daydream, rocking you back into reality. Overcome with embarrassment, you feel your skin burn hot under his questioning gaze. “You’re not listening.”
“I’m so sorry,” you speak quietly, and stars you mean it. It’s mortifying, being caught out like this. It’s easy to wonder if Mando thinks you consider yourself an Alderani princess, contemplating all the ways you can style your hair to be the most eligible at the Festival of Light ball.
“Do you-… Do you want to explain what the problem is?” He dares to ask, The Mandalorian’s voice lilting with mild concern, as though he’s concerned you may request to take his armour for yourself.
If only it were that simple.
“… It’s the reflection.” Your admittance makes Mando stop, his immovable helmet expression staring blankly at you in question. It was agonising. He wants you to spell it out to him.
You sigh heavily.
“I want-“
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His cock splits you open, sinking deep inside of you and forcing you open around his girth. You sob out, arousal blooming through your nervous system as you watch the tears drip down your cheeks.
Mando had heard your ridiculous admittance with an open mind, answering simply by removing his breastplate. The click of the latch unlocking made your hairs stand on end, helplessly watching as he stood the armour up at the head of the tiny cot.
“Eyes on your reflection.”
He has you on your hands and knees, his gloves nipping at the skin of your bare hips. Mando hadn’t removed any other item of clothing, pulling his cock out of his flight-suit pants and immediately pushing inside of you.
“Ohhhfuck!” You squeak, his length sinking inside of you almost too easily, considering how little prep you’d been granted. The ridges of his cock push up against the sensitive spots inside of you, and you watch as your jaw drops at the overwhelming sensation.
“So wet. Do you walk around like this for me all the time?” He speaks. The modulator does little to hide the strain in his voice when your walls clamp down on him, desperate for more. “Leaking down your thighs for me, Sarad.”
You wail softly, staring at the reflection of The Mandalorian as his hips begin to rock forward and into you. His undulating body looks long and broad in the mirror image of the beskar armour. The rippling muscles of his abdomen flex and curl underneath the thin canvas of his black flight suit.
“Stars,” you wheeze as he suddenly picks up the pace, your fingers gripping tightly onto the bed sheets on the cot. Mando’s tentative testing seems to end, his hips picking up speed and force when he finds the confidence he will not hurt you.
Arching your back, you push your hips back into his thrusts. It sets off a string of grunts and groans from The Mandalorian. “Fuck- you’re so tight around me, Sarad. So tight and f-fucking wet.”
It’s so unusual for him; words usually buried deep unless absolutely necessary. You’re unsure you’ve ever heard him talk so much, his voice growing louder with each slap of his skin against the curve of your ass.
“Fuck- I’d… I’d let you ruin my armour with this pretty pussy,” he rambles, hands squeezing at every handful of flesh he can; your hips, your ass, your waist and breasts. “You can gr-hngg grind against it, mark it up with how wet you are. Make you lick it off-“
“Mando!” You choke out, each syllable of his utterly filthy words pulsing through you and blurring your vision of the chest plate with the tears that well in your eyes.
“Stars, just- Just mark me up with that pretty cunt. Stain my tassets. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Get to watch as you drag it over my beskar-“
You’re seeing double, the vision of Mando fucking into you at a mind-numbing pace making you light-headed. You can feel it build, feel it grow and tease at the edges of your body.
“I-I’m gunna c-ughhhh!”
Mando simply reaches around you, pushing the leather-clad pad of his thumb against your clit.
The supernova that blasts through you burns your muscles as they clamp down around him, sobbing loudly and forcing your eyes open to witness your writhing body in the outline of the armour.
Mando’s hips stutter in the image projected back to you, and you both watch and feel him bury deep inside you, cumming with a trembling groan. His palm splays across your lower back, pressing your upper body down against the mattress and continuing to fuck you through the obliterating overstimulation that follows.
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Credits:
— Gif Credits unknown- let me know so I can tag you!
— Mandalorian divider created by me using Picsart stickers.
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