#goldenprincess

[sunnysvault]

JAUNE X TOM NASTY DOG THING

TW FOR SUGGESTIVE STUFF BELOW THE CUT!! DONT LOOK IF YOU ARENT OLD ENOUGH

Now for the Rick and Tom Nasty Dog thing, who should be the singer?

Rick.

Tom.

Both.

(See the votes)

Voting ended onOct 12, 2024

[bastardsunlight]

"As beautiful as the moon." She walked out from a doorway that may not have existed before, shadows clinging to her before finally shedding in the misty daylight that poured through the nearest window. The strange madam of the house did not touch Nuala, but she did linger -- her hands ghosting just along her shoulders before pausing at the tops of her arms. Leaning closely in, enough for her icy breath to be felt against the warm of Nuala's cheek, she whispered low in her ear in a voice that was nearly a growl. "You tempt me in the best ways.." (Have a slightly feral fae Mina )

The gold flush that covered the elf princess’s cheeks was indicative more of her breathless anticipation than any kind of fear. She had long ago learned that Gemina—Mina, she insisted—meant her no harm. Rather, the dark fae seemed to worship the very air she occupied. Her touch was always gentle, never insistent. Nuala could feel need in it, and desire, of course, but nothing that would take what was not freely given. The lips of Nuala’s too-wide mouth parted as her heartbeat picked up its pace a little.

“And how much more will I tempt you before you succumb?”

[sunnysvault]

FOR THE NASTY DOG JAUNE X TOM THING

Who should be the singer for the Jaune x Tom Nasty Dog thing?

Tom.

Jaune.

Both.

(See the votes)

Voting ended onOct 11, 2024

[bastardsunlight]

the rite of spring

continued from here with @ofstrangevariety

It had all happened so fast. She, the princess of elfland—what was left of it, golden halls surrounded by one forest, instead of many, and that surrounded by human sprawl—the royal heir of Bethmoora, sister to the exiled prince, Nuada Silverlance, was now the prisoner, the bride of the night queen. As much as she was confined to the land below the surface with her people, at least there was opportunity for sunlight. Here, she was not so sure. Gemina was the avatar of evening, of shade and cool night breezes, of chilly, silvery moonlight and sparkling, diamond stars. They were beautiful, of course; they were nature, as was the sun, but the golden princess needed it, too. Would she feel it again?

She entered the room on silent steps, with all the grace of her ancient people, deep blue dress accenting her white skin and white and gilded hair, her strange, honey gold eyes roving over everything, mastering each detail, memorizing it, seeking she knew not what, heart filled with trepidation and just a tiny hint of… anticipation?

The icy contacted her flesh and spread through her veins. She shuddered. Wide mouth clamping shut, Nuala Silverleaf watched her captor with a rapt gaze, looking for all the world a young woman, though she was ancient even by the standards of her people. Ancient though she was, however, Nuala knew enough to realize when she was in the presence of something older. She inclined her head demurely.

“No, mistress; I am… quite content.” For her people, for their safety, for the security of their ever-diminishing borders, Nuala of the house of Bethmoora would have fed herself to any fate or fiend. They were so few and so weak. What choice did she have?

[bastardsunlight]

Continued from this open starter with @ofstrangevariety

The bell seemed to jar the hooded client. Soaked to the bone, her form was obvious under the long dress and cloak she wore—strange attire for this city, or any city, for that matter. She seemed harried, pursued. Her posture spoke of exhaustion, but of also being on high alert. As the door closed out the sound of the storm, her shoulders drooped and she turned to face the shop’s owner. The glamour she had cast over herself would not hold at extremely close proximity, but at this distance, she was safe. She was a pale woman with light brown eyes that were nearly gold, a strange color for someone whose hair was white-gold—or it likely was, when it was dry. She was bedraggled, but beautiful, with a mouth a bit too wide for her face. Her countenance and bearing were regal for all the tiredness she exuded, however, and as she gathered herself to speak, her posture made it very clear she was someone of import, or fancied herself such.

 

“Ah, perhaps. At the moment, shelter from this downpour.” Each lilting word was delivered with precision, but no harshness, as if played on the breath of a particularly talented flutist upon her oldest and most well-worn instrument. One waxen hand clutched at the cloak near her throat, as if she feared it would be snatched from her and, though she seemed to be fighting it, her eyes darted toward the street, visible through the front windows, though only just. The antique shop was mercifully well-stocked. If she moved further in, the only way anyone might see her would be to follow her path into the shop itself. “Thank you.”

[bastardsunlight]

bourbon street blues

closed starter for @junkdrawerkids

The bazaar was full, shoulder-to-shoulder, all hustle and bustle, wheeling and dealing. It was very exciting for the Bethmoora princess. It had been quite some time since she’d been in a marketplace, however, a fact which her father had forgotten--but she’d not have refused him for anything. She had a duty to her family and her people to retrieve this priceless heirloom of their clan. 

She tugged her hood up, close around her head, disguising her looks and her ears, feeling with her extra senses, extending feelers, as it were, to direct her in this writhing throng. 

[bastardsunlight]

Tenderly trailing her long finger under the soft angle of Nuala's jaw, Gemina leaned in to ghost her lips along the elf's forehead. It only lingered there for a moment before she leaned down and pressed them to her lips, humming softly as her other arm tightened around Nuala's waist.

She had become used to the gentle touches, the soft caresses and the naked adoration of the vampire queen, but that did not mean they did not set off sparks in her heart every single time. Rather, every single bit of contact between them was like a brand new flame, fanned to life and kept blazing strong. Her arms found their way around Gemina's neck as she was drawn in to press warm lips against cold.

[bastardsunlight]

"Do you dance, my Dear?" @ Nuala

In all of her long life, Nuala had scarcely encountered someone who could bring that gentle gold flush to porcelain cheeks the way Gemina always seemed to do. Even the simplest phrase or innocuous gesture could speed the Bethmoora princess’s normally languid heartbeat. It astounded and thrilled her to be so taken aback, though she was not so caught off guard that she forgot her manners entirely.

“Indeed, mistress—the people of my clan once danced under the stars, but we have learned other dances in recent centuries and I know them all by heart. Would you show me some of yours?”