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+--- Thread: Deepwood Weald [m] and you can hold me, like he held her (/showthread.php?tid=64806)
[m] and you can hold me, like he held her - Reilly - February 07, 2025
potential oncoming heat. throwing a wrench in my girl's life to shake her up as I get back into the swing of things.
Branded—beneath the skin. It was the only way she could describe it, and instinctively she left the whimsical forest she temporarily called home, slinking through snow and wind across the wide expanse of open meadows. Evening settled on the horizon—painting the picture of amber yellow and orange—the sun dipping lower past a cloudless sky and the backdrop of another woods.
It beckoned her—shadowed—comforting in that moment, and she found her shoulder brushing the length of a tree, the hush of winter silence a boon in that moment.
Forneskja was home to boisterous warriors—even when they were quiet, their energies were loud.
Here, perhaps, she could breathe—perhaps, she could determine the next moment of her life.
For now, she could reign the heat of her skin—the ache.
For the silence in this moment was not just a craving, but a need.
RE: and you can hold me, like he held her - Lestan - February 08, 2025
springtime called and lestan left behind swiftcurrent to answer. splendid skills lent to tracking a far easier excursion toward the coastline. it was where he had ended and began. lestan had never planned to return and now here he was, entering some seaside forest as if it were the material of a satin resort.
he did not even hunt; he might have folded himself fawnlike at once to sleep were it not for the persistent gold of some nearby presence.
the mayfair and his explorations were rewarded by a vision of ginger cream so exquisite as to melt the heart. his mouth was hardwon not to fall open, and lestan stood unguarded in pleasant observation.
donnelaith called, somewhere; nearby; and their meeting was all the more gilded for it.
he did not even hunt; he might have folded himself fawnlike at once to sleep were it not for the persistent gold of some nearby presence.
the mayfair and his explorations were rewarded by a vision of ginger cream so exquisite as to melt the heart. his mouth was hardwon not to fall open, and lestan stood unguarded in pleasant observation.
donnelaith called, somewhere; nearby; and their meeting was all the more gilded for it.
RE: and you can hold me, like he held her - Reilly - February 09, 2025
The title of this thread was taken from lyrics by The Last Dinner Party... 'Nothing Matters.' Just discovered them this week.
She wove through the dense trees—tufts of ginger and honey fur left behind on the arduous limbs of thin trees that reincarnated webs of spiders. This was not the forests of time and wisdom she had grown accustom to in her years of life—the carnality of this woods was something entirely different.
The silence extended—but only as the lithe form of the Rekkr arched once more to feel the brush of bark deeper to her skin did her marigold gaze catch that of endless blue, and instantly she stilled—unable to help the corner twitch of her lips that threatened to extend to a smile. “Tha thu gam choimhead,” she noted, her voice a soft purr against the eerie silence of winter’s melt.
RE: and you can hold me, like he held her - Lestan - February 09, 2025
I shall have to give it a listen!
goldspun eyes caught the hapless watcher. "y-yes. well, i —" began the mayfair until he realized that she had not spoken common, and he had understood all the same.
after a moment did the words present themselves for lestan, and he shyly glanced away. "an urrainn dhut a’ choire a chuir air neach-siubhail airson a bhith a’ coimhead nan rionnagan?"
she was after all achingly beautiful in the sort of way which terrified him quite a lot.
after a moment did the words present themselves for lestan, and he shyly glanced away. "an urrainn dhut a’ choire a chuir air neach-siubhail airson a bhith a’ coimhead nan rionnagan?"
she was after all achingly beautiful in the sort of way which terrified him quite a lot.
RE: and you can hold me, like he held her - Reilly - February 09, 2025
She stilled—not only the rumble of his words and voice but the aching familiarity that touched her in that moment. He stole her breath—but he might not have seen it, as the depths of his gaze fluttered away in a shyness she wished to explore, and not only because the compliment he bestowed upon her was one of the kindest she had been given.
She did not realize until that very moment how homesick she had been feeling.
“Travelers often use the stars in their navigation,” she preened, muzzle tilting downward as she curled then, pressing a cheek now toward the snow-covered ground in coy invitation. “So what is it you seek, anam treibhdhireach? ”
RE: and you can hold me, like he held her - Lestan - February 09, 2025
seek? he had figured himself to be only traipsing as men do this time of year, unattached in the valley or elsewhere. his heart ached for wake, as if by coming far away and then returning he might reset the trajectory of love's obsession.
"i imagine witches have their own uses for starlight," lestan ventured, daring in a tiny way to see himself as such. as a witch.
he wanted to ask more about her, but that would require volunteering things about himself. and lestan desired that the gentle beauty of their meeting remain unmarred. "i followed and they led me here."
"i imagine witches have their own uses for starlight," lestan ventured, daring in a tiny way to see himself as such. as a witch.
he wanted to ask more about her, but that would require volunteering things about himself. and lestan desired that the gentle beauty of their meeting remain unmarred. "i followed and they led me here."
RE: and you can hold me, like he held her - Reilly - February 09, 2025
She continued the slide of her pale form to the snow-kissed ground—as if the cover of scents of Forneskja’s warriors that likely lingered upon her, if only from living amongst them. Her eyes remained fast upon him—openly curious.
Witch, he called himself.
It wasn’t a term she understood in its entirety—at least not unless used in a jest or an unsavory jab. He looked entirely serious though—the bright of his gaze set upon the solemn face of a man who’s shadowed features spoke volumes of a secret well-kept.
“That’s fortunate for me,” she offered, her voice above a whisper as she felt once more the luring itch just beneath her skin. “For I find myself suddenly quite interested in the stars.”
RE: and you can hold me, like he held her - Lestan - February 09, 2025
"and what do they s-say?" lestan asked, mesmerized by her movements and the entrancing smoulder of her voice. no names had even been given, and he caught just the faint tendrils of pack beneath the stirring of something he had come to know.
so she had come to be alone? there was no man who claimed? lestan did not understand his thoughts; he did not want to border on profane. he entered the light more clearly, meeting her gaze with open intrigue.
did he want to ask by where she had come such a language; lestan wanted to see where and how they fit, but he kept quiet, compelled to be silent in waiting.
so she had come to be alone? there was no man who claimed? lestan did not understand his thoughts; he did not want to border on profane. he entered the light more clearly, meeting her gaze with open intrigue.
did he want to ask by where she had come such a language; lestan wanted to see where and how they fit, but he kept quiet, compelled to be silent in waiting.
RE: and you can hold me, like he held her - Reilly - February 09, 2025
He drew closer—vaguely so, allowing sparse light to paint upon more of the streamlined masculine canvas before her. A flutter in her chest and a tightening in her throat—she did not doubt that Solharr did not foresee a future seer of Forneskja bearing the gift of life from a witch she met in a separate wooded land.
The women of Foraoise Sióg had instilled much knowledge to her and other women of what to expect come their time of fertility—oh how to prepare for the rights of their people and ensure a blessed union come to pass.
Reilly had time to capture the flame with her paw and it might not yet burn her.
She inhaled sharply—eyes scanning the devastatingly handsome man before her as her words came out a whisper once more: “I was hoping you could tell me.”
Emboldened, then. "No dh’ fhaodadh tu sealltainn dhomh."
RE: and you can hold me, like he held her - Lestan - February 09, 2025
lestan was thus encouraged to step forward again, a stag growing less tentative as bars of shadow and light broke both of them into shimmering gold, paleness, blue. with some wonder at himself, the mayfair exhaled against the juncture of throat to shoulder, not daring to do more; he reveled in this small connection. "thainig mi o loch teine," lestan murmured.
keeper of more fire; he offered its burn to her now, backing the fae creature against the moss-covered trees at her back, a horned god beginning to glow with greenfire as his wanting rose.
keeper of more fire; he offered its burn to her now, backing the fae creature against the moss-covered trees at her back, a horned god beginning to glow with greenfire as his wanting rose.
RE: and you can hold me, like he held her - Reilly - February 09, 2025
He drew closer—she rose upon limbs that felt both compelled and weak. The rise of her slender muzzle—tasting the air between them. He scented of fresh water and wilderness. He smelled of—
—her thoughts drifted away instantly as found her back to the drape of trees, barely grazing the fur and skin along the cloying curve of her nape, and she found a paw lifting desperately to him—moving to grip him, to pull him closer to her in this moment as her mouth drifted toward the cusp of his ear. “Ath-thoir mi à luaithre do lasair,” she pleaded.
She had defined Solharr only days earlier as Cernunnos—but now she swore the God stood before him, embodied in a gaze of gold and blue—how wrong she had been before.
RE: [m] and you can hold me, like he held her - Lestan - February 09, 2025
conscious mind fell away to flame that laid low, and lestan responded in striking kind. she spread into a gilded map laid open for his exploration; he traversed northern climes to southern dalliance, focused entire upon whatever pleasure he could wrought in her again and again, a sweetest cruelty to them both.
as snow began to fall once more over the wilderness, lestan caught her close and took them together with his breath to singe against one ear. a song of rapture whispered to her nape, of wonder and worship; he created their union perhaps too slowly, perhaps enough to be a torment and a testing of every muscle which had ever been fevered in him for a god.
his end felt as if it might set the world afire again; he flew from his own mind and whispered she must only be a creature of magick, and she should trust him in that; after all, only a witch might know a goddessborn when she appeared in a silent wood before ancient-blooded eyes.
as snow began to fall once more over the wilderness, lestan caught her close and took them together with his breath to singe against one ear. a song of rapture whispered to her nape, of wonder and worship; he created their union perhaps too slowly, perhaps enough to be a torment and a testing of every muscle which had ever been fevered in him for a god.
his end felt as if it might set the world afire again; he flew from his own mind and whispered she must only be a creature of magick, and she should trust him in that; after all, only a witch might know a goddessborn when she appeared in a silent wood before ancient-blooded eyes.
RE: [m] and you can hold me, like he held her - Reilly - February 09, 2025
Snow might have fell but Reilly was far from cold. From one year of her birth to now, she had been told the rites of Beltane—the ways in which the horned God would come to her, and how a woman’s body could blossom with life. She had learned the act of pleasure was one that was sacred, surely—but experiencing was something else entirely.
He guided her—Reilly all but relinquished control to him. Tumultuous, torturous. He held no name for her to cry out to, and so her words her broken between that of the common and those of her kinfolk as she encouraged him.
A union that was sweet and slow—and yet heated, rushed with need. She held him in a certain aftermath—how many hours had gone by, now?—and while she quaked still from everything he has bestowed upon her, she pulled him close for another lingering kiss—reverent. “You have created me anew,” she murmured, breathlessly.
Create me new, again.
And again.
RE: [m] and you can hold me, like he held her - Lestan - February 10, 2025
again mesmerized, again belonging in whole to her. lestan listened to the moan of her cried words and felt surely the rightness around their needful connection.
the kiss was hot between them, lestan wrapped in her limbs and she in his. but for her he sated them again; for himself he took them to a slower syncopation until his own tones were hoarsened anew with a splendid pleasure.
honeyblue found her eyes, the press of his kiss was upon her collarbone as they both calmed themselves beneath the sprawl of pretty trees which had served as their bower.
lestan was captured and weak and delighted; he lay back in repose to look at her in equal worship.
the kiss was hot between them, lestan wrapped in her limbs and she in his. but for her he sated them again; for himself he took them to a slower syncopation until his own tones were hoarsened anew with a splendid pleasure.
honeyblue found her eyes, the press of his kiss was upon her collarbone as they both calmed themselves beneath the sprawl of pretty trees which had served as their bower.
lestan was captured and weak and delighted; he lay back in repose to look at her in equal worship.
RE: [m] and you can hold me, like he held her - Reilly - February 24, 2025
A kiss pressed to the juncture of her collarbone elicited the arch of her spine, a murmur given, incomprehensible, perhaps, spare for the appreciation within her croon. Warm eyes traced along him—smitten instantly, how could she not be?—and pushing away the harder truth that this was only a stolen moment in which their realms had met.
A witch indeed—she was thoroughly under his spell.
“Innis dhomh sgeulachd,” she requested.
RE: [m] and you can hold me, like he held her - Lestan - February 25, 2025
ahh, ahh — that language again, that flowery pull of primal memory which reached deep down inside lestan. "there was once a spirit who w-wished so much to be f-flesh that he tried to enter the storms to find a host."
"one night he heard the crying prayers of a w-woman, and flew down among the r-rain to see that she had been captured. a witch, she s-said. a w-witch who was to be put to death."
"'saor mi, agus bheir mi dhuit miann do chridhe,' she said to the spirit who had come to s-seek her." his arms went more gently around the woman; lestan paused, wondering why this story of all had come upon him.
"'tha mi airson anail a ghabhail ann am feòil bheò,'" and suddenly it was not a tale at all, it was the mayfair's blood rising, rising; and he fell a thousand miles away from his lover, eyes taking on a faraway look. "that was what he said to her. and she raised her voice. 'be it so.'"
"he freed the woman from her prison, and she sought a man. when she was w-with child, she invited the spirit into her as h-host, and he was made into life."
lestan paused. the tale had been too heavy for so delicate a time, and yet! and yet she had been the first to which he had uttered this, "the story of the mayfairs began with the child charlotte. and i f-fear it may end with me."
"one night he heard the crying prayers of a w-woman, and flew down among the r-rain to see that she had been captured. a witch, she s-said. a w-witch who was to be put to death."
"'saor mi, agus bheir mi dhuit miann do chridhe,' she said to the spirit who had come to s-seek her." his arms went more gently around the woman; lestan paused, wondering why this story of all had come upon him.
"'tha mi airson anail a ghabhail ann am feòil bheò,'" and suddenly it was not a tale at all, it was the mayfair's blood rising, rising; and he fell a thousand miles away from his lover, eyes taking on a faraway look. "that was what he said to her. and she raised her voice. 'be it so.'"
"he freed the woman from her prison, and she sought a man. when she was w-with child, she invited the spirit into her as h-host, and he was made into life."
lestan paused. the tale had been too heavy for so delicate a time, and yet! and yet she had been the first to which he had uttered this, "the story of the mayfairs began with the child charlotte. and i f-fear it may end with me."
RE: [m] and you can hold me, like he held her - Reilly - March 05, 2025
Enraptured by his tale—he wove it in a way she found her breath stolen for a moment. Perhaps, it was the lingering trace of his eyes that deemed it so—but she could tell, she could feel… something about this story spoke to him in some manner.
She reached for him—pulling him for a stolen kiss and finding herself reveling in the moment he was hers, this man she knew nothing about spare the caverns of his muscle and the sounds of his pleasure.
When she broke the kiss—she pulled back only to look at him—warm eyes tracing the hint of blue within his own gaze. “Fact, or fiction?” Her voice was a soft whisper—he spoke of Mayfair—of ending the curse with himself.
“Is it such a terrible fate, to share oneself with a spirit?”
RE: [m] and you can hold me, like he held her - Lestan - March 07, 2025
"it c-can be, if the spirit h-has its own aims," lestan said softly. "both." fact punctured by fiction. hyperbole rooted in fact. it was unknowable, and he hadn't the memories or lorekeeping to know for certain.
"an old story." he kissed her, lingering; "and a s-sad one."
he wanted her again; the words were becoming too heavy, for they forced open those heavy barred doors of his mind. and lestan could not suffer such pain again.
"an old story." he kissed her, lingering; "and a s-sad one."
he wanted her again; the words were becoming too heavy, for they forced open those heavy barred doors of his mind. and lestan could not suffer such pain again.