[sioltach]

this website lets you listen to the sounds of all different forests around the world 

[riven-wanders]

Reblogging again cause I tried this site last night and if you need background noise to focus this is perfect for that, I was locked the fuck in on a task. And it’s also just gorgeous to listen to

[draighean]

character headcanon generator

put ✔️ for correct or ✖️ for incorrect

✔️ Blackthorn is great with kids.

✔️ Blackthorn cannot drive

✔️ Blackthorn forgets to eat sometimes.

✖️ Blackthorn has chronic nightmares.

✔️ Blackthorn sings in the shower.

✔️ Blackthorn can hug you, but wont.

✔️ Blackthorn will remind others in the midst of chaos how good they're being.

tagged by: @chaosfaery

[draighean]

cont x @idontkillorphans

"There you are pup. I was beginning to worry you'd miss the fun."

There was a distinct lack of concern in Thorn's tone, but it seemed unlikely to make much of a difference to the mortal under him. Now that his pet had swum to the surface again, Thorn slowed his pace but kept the depth, intent on Sleipnir feeling every inch buried in him.

"Poor thing, I should have noticed you going into heat before it hit so hard. That's my fault, very irresponsible of me, but we're taking care of it now-"

[idontkillorphans]

Sleipnir felt a spike of ice fill his chest, eyes widening when he heard Lord Thorns voice - not across the room, not in front of him - behind him - directly behind him.

He whimpered as another shiver racked his body, arching into chair - the hard roots of the tree biting at his face as he attempted to twist. He shivered as the other slowed, his pulsing hole allowing him to map the others cock buried in him. He couldn't help but continue to squeeze around the other, his breathing rushed and panting - like a dog.

He grunted around the mouth gag, drooling over his own chin and into the chair his face was pressed into. I don't have a heat you bastard-

As if on queue, his stomach tightened, body pulsing as a rush of goosebumps broke out over him, eyes fluttering as he was hit with nausea again. His pulsing body drew attention to the others length once more, the burn and the ache making him whimper out again, more hot drool pooling against his cheek. How did he get here? How did this...happen? And what was that feeling rocking through him?"

[draighean]

Thorn didnt need to read minds, or have Sleipnir's mouth free for speech, to guess that his pet disagreed vehemently with his assessment. All the better, really; pets without spirit were quickly cast aside in his home.

"You take this as if you were made for it, pet. Barely even started and already you're trying to milk my cock- you must be so desperate for a proper breeding." He murmured, amusement clear in every word. When the whimper came, Sleipnir was rewarded with a slap to his ass, and Thorn's hips flush against him as he seated fully.

"Hush, I'm going to give you everything you need. All you have to do is be a good boy and keep those hips up-"

[draighean]

When the singular sidhe knelt beside her, hand out, Lilé smiled. Gently, she took hold of the outstretched hand, and pressed it lightly to her belly.

“Feel, a stór,” she hummed to her little one. “See? These are your kin.”

Before Lilé had even finished speaking, the unborn baby had begun kicking in earnest against the flat palm of the blackthorn faery. A tiny hand pushed against her womb, and Lilé laughed quietly.

“Goodness, you are excited,” she marvelled, looking to the sidhe in quiet delight. “I daresay that was the strongest response yet. They like you a great deal.”

With her direction, the sidhe became less shy, their touch firm against her stomach to better feel the kicks. Their excitement presented as the scent of crushed ripe sloe, and a surprise for them both.

'A strong sapling already. Like Him, in the early days of the Grove.'

Connecting through the life in Lilé's womb, the words passed to Thorn's wife.

[draighean]

Lunantishee Cont

Appearance & Dress:

As mentioned previously, they lack mouths, leaving the space under their nose smooth. Aside from entirely black eyes, their facial features are otherwise human. Skin colour, which is likewise indistinguishable from human flesh, falls in the range of colours of blackthorn bark, but also the blue-black of the sloe.

Variance in height and build is present, as is the physical age they chose to present. Slightly longer limbs and fingers than a human are a universal feature.

Clothe themselves in the material of their trees and little else. Use everything from bark, leaves, fallen branches, thorns etc. Some keep their coverings rough in craftsmanship, while others have learned methods of transforming the raw material. Regardless, they create only out of what has come off the tree naturally, not harvesting directly. Various piercings with the trees thorns are a common adornment. Many sharpen and blacken their nails

The eldest, the original 7, are distinguished by full-face masks of blackthorn wood, carved to resemble a greenman. Each is unique, with varying degrees of intricacy and expression.

These elders also engage in ritual scarification, seeking to emulate the texture of the trees bark on their own skin. Kin who have lived a long time successfully protecting their charges, or who have been injured protecting thorn himself, are rarely extended the offer of this ritual scarring by one of the elders.

[draighean]

The little one was kicking again, no longer content to simply roll lazily around in Lilé’s womb while the princess gardened. She sighed at a particularly energetic foot thrust, and sat back on her heels, trowel abandoned, seeds left unsown for the moment. Her hand touched the swell of her stomach.

“As demanding as your da,” she murmured wryly, and looked at the nearby members of Thorn’s retinue. She had not initially thought it necessary for him to leave her so guarded, but she was very fond of his kin. (And Thorn was always so protective of her.) Smiling, Lilé gestured to her belly.

“Would you like to feel them?” she offered warmly. “Perhaps they would enjoy saying hello.”

//I just love the idea of Lilé welcoming his sidhe into her pregnancy and including them in things 🥹

Curiosity ran through the collective minds present. The task of watching Lilé at her work had already been considered an honour, they were content to watch from afar. An invitation to come closer, let alone to touch, had not once entered into the realm of possibility.

After a brief, silent conference among those present, only a single Lunantishee stepped forward. The mask it wore marked it as one of the earliest of Thorns retinue, a member of the seven that had been with him since his 'birth'. Still cautious, the silent fae lowered itself to the ground beside Lilé, and unsure of what else to do, it held out a hand to her.

[beautiful-mischief]

Blackthorn’s slow, feline unfurling — intentional, unhurried, annoying — earned a brief huff and a derisive toss of Mal’s head as he resolved himself to expect such stubbornness and frustration so long as he remained here in his domain, trying his best to appear unbothered by that tempting game of push and pull that they seemed to have inevitably slipped into. The florist had arrived believing that he would be capable of restraint, that cold professionalism was all that the other man would receive, and yet every sly remark or petty gesture was already coaxing forth a reckless impulse to misbehave.

His host certainly had no qualms with doing so, and why should Blackthorn have all the fun?

Though there might have been something eerie to just how quiet it was in the main hall as they entered, truth be told Mal was relieved not to see more of Blackthorn’s sidhe lingering in their master’s wake, still vaguely unnerved by their presence despite his best efforts to ignore them. He’d long passed the point of feeling unnerved by Blackthorn himself — though he doubted his innate caution would fully fade any time soon, oddly enough he’d simply become something of a nuisance in his mind rather than a figure he feared. Slightly more unnerving were the tapestries that the florist’s eyes irresistibly flitted to, terrifyingly beautiful in their realism, so stunningly crafted that he swore he could smell the fresh-turned earth beneath thundering hooves and the green of the forest. Even woven from thread the depiction of the Wild Hunt was enough to coax forth a shiver of foreboding, and as he tore his gaze away Mal realised he hadn’t been listening to a word that Blackthorn had said.

“Oh — here? I suppose it is a predictable choice.” He agreed, swiftly scrabbling for his focus, assessing the room with a sweep of his blue gaze. “But it’s an option. I suppose it all depends whether you want it somewhere you can enjoy it, or somewhere that you get to show it off to people.” That was the way of such commissions after all; to him it seemed that where the gentry were concerned part of the charm in having something beautiful was the gleefulness of knowing that others would covet what you had too.

[draighean]

Having caught the line of Malus sight, Thorn also lost interest in evaluating the hall for placement. The Wild Hunt was one of the few gatherings he adored, whether it was as a spectator, or more often, as a participant in the hunt itself. It was an event well worth tolerating other fae and their politics for.

"Do you like it?" Thorn moved around Mal to touch the tapestry, a subtle reassurance that it was in fact merely art, for all its ability to charm. "It takes a lot for me to miss a Hunt, when its called. Have you attended?"

It seemed unlikely, but not impossible, that the pretty mortal had been shown their darker entertainments. Indeed, even that brief flicker of discomfort had been enough to convince Thorn he'd make beautiful prey. Letting himself linger on that line of thought was dangerous, and recognizing it, he stepped away from the wall hanging and gestured for Mal to follow him once more.

"I have an idea, although I worry its a tad bit on the nose." He led them deeper into his home, bypassing the ornate doorway of a library, scores of guestrooms, and what in passing looked like a lounge. "At the end of the day, this is a vanity project really, and I like to see the things I have made. So, the entrance to my wing of rooms-"

Thorn stopped at the beginning of another hallway, this one wider and taller than the entrance hall, despite being used only for his private quarters. Unlike everywhere they had been so far, the floor had given way to bare, packed earth. The scent of dirt mingled with that of crushed leaves, and a faint sweetness that the keen nose would recognize as ripe sloe.

"Or even the entrance to my dressing rooms- I do spend a lot of time in there." It hadn't been misheard, or misspoken; of all his indulgences, clothing and accessories were among Thorn's worst, requiring not a single room, but a several. "Did you bring many changes of clothes, by the way? I know my tailor would jump at a chance to have a new muse."

[morganathewitch]

Moss and clover, Skottvång Sweden.

[kellyroman]

Picked some magnolia petals and discovered as they started to wilt at creases they turned a beautiful warm brown color. Then got the idea to use a silverpoint stylus to scratch a magnolia drawing into the petal~ smells divine

[kaleidoscope-dreamz]

[draighean]

Did you slip one of your thorns inside Lilé? Does she know that you track her every movement?

"Sounds like someone has been sticking their nose where it doesn't belong. I'd apologize for what my sidhe will do but, well, I think you've earned it."

[draighean]

One thing about Thorn is he will wear plant/leaf heavy looks

[draighean]

cont x @idontkillorphans

"There you are pup. I was beginning to worry you'd miss the fun."

There was a distinct lack of concern in Thorn's tone, but it seemed unlikely to make much of a difference to the mortal under him. Now that his pet had swum to the surface again, Thorn slowed his pace but kept the depth, intent on Sleipnir feeling every inch buried in him.

"Poor thing, I should have noticed you going into heat before it hit so hard. That's my fault, very irresponsible of me, but we're taking care of it now-"

[chaosfaery]

Her shadows alerted her to Thorn's presence just before the roots moved. She both relaxed and tensed at the sound of his voice, bare skin pebbling with anticipation. The pitch of his voice, the tone... was it any wonder she had fallen for him?

"I would argue your roots led me exactly where they wished," Lilé countered, turning to face him with a sly smile. Gods, he was beautiful. Ancient in his splendour. Her shadows wove around him for a second in greeting, before gambolling away to curl with the roots of the room.

Closing the gap between them, she pressed a kiss to Thorn's chest, acutely aware of the way he always towered over her. Tongue flicked the soft olive skin for the briefest of moments, a further tribute. All she wore was one of those light, silken slips he loved to see her in.

"This is where you indulge," she said, a simple statement.

"The blood... it sings in this room. It tells stories." The unspoken question hung in the air between them, laced with curiosity.

Would you let me be one of those stories?

[draighean]

"You still manage to surprise me, after all this time."

Thorn cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs gently stroking her cheeks, all of it a contrast to the room around them. His love for her was insatiable, time having done nothing to diminish the flame.

"I like to linger over some of my games, its practical to have a space where mess isn't an issue." Thorn had no interest in discouraging her request, or double checking that she was sure- if Lilé wanted, he gave, it was as simple as that.

"I hope your schedule is clear. Its very easy to lose track of time, down here." His roots shifted in the walls around them, but the integrity of the room remained intact, built with his reactions in mind. More curled out from Thorn's feet, some as thin as string, others the thickness of rope, and wound their way up her bare legs and higher.

"Hands behind your back for me, love." He pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth, his own hands having moved on to find purchase in her slip. What his roots didnt shred, his bark-rough fingers would with ease.

[jame7t]

Top ten signs your puppy is toxic & manipulating

[draighean]

seven deadly sins -

is your muse vanilla, or are they kinky? if kinky, what are their top three kinks, and why do they like them? if vanilla, what position(s) does your muse have sex in? 😌

He is vanilla. Strictly missionary only. Lights off and only for procreation.

I'm sorry to immediately destroy your image of him as a god fearing man. You are very surprised, I'm sure.

Thorn is very kinky, though I cant promise he follows proper etiquette in regards to that. Top three kinks are probably:

breath-play (giving)

blood play

unconventional bondage (he has roots and he is using them)

[draighean]

How does Blackthorn love? Casually, obsessively, passionately, gently? Does he have any ‘unhealthy’ tendencies?

Somewhere between passion and obsession, I think. The full attention of an ancient being is a weighty thing, even when its casual. Love is a slow growing feeling for Thorn, and compared to how long he's been around, its a rare one- but not impossible!

Thorn? Have unhealthy tendencies? Noooo