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#Flemish Mannerism
lionofchaeronea · 10 months
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Landscape with Grotto and a Rider, Joos de Momper the Younger, ca. 1616
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beautiful-belgium · 1 year
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Manner of Anthony van Dyck - The Holy Family with an Angel (c. 1625)
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geritsel · 1 year
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Kerstiaen de Keuninck - The Disasters of Mankind
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charmingghosts · 1 year
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Louis Finson, Allegory of the Four Elements (1611)
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somethingwithmoles · 1 year
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Bartholomäus Spranger, Sine Cerere et Baccho friget Venus, ca. 1590, oil on canvas, 161.5 x 100 cm, Kunsthistorisches Museum, Vienna
Source: Wikimedia Commons
The Latin proverb serving as title for the painting can be translated as “Without Ceres and Bacchus, Venus freezes” and is based on a quotation by the Roman comedian Terence. It inspired several paintings of Northern Mannerism and Baroque, in which its basic meaning (’love cannot thrive without food and wine’) is illustrated in a sometimes more, sometimes less moralizing way (Source: Wikipedia).
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Neptune at night guard in front of Town Hall
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During night the contrast and dimensions of the Neptune Fountain, the Town Hall and the main city square of Gdansk gets a certain perspective. A cold spring night is is framed in dark, light, and mystery.
A center of social life day and night since medieval times, this area is worth visit freqently both for the views and the food and drinks. Placed in the crossing of Długi Targ, the "Long Market"/city square, and Ulica Długa, the long lane/street, the Town Hall is the second tallest building in old Gdansk.
The first Town Hall was mentioned back in the late 1200s. But the first building that later was extended again and again was built here in 1336CE. With addition of the statue of king Sigismund the great as part of a taller tower, it reached the current height.
During the European war theater of WWII, this building like the rest of the city was heavily damaged. Reconstructions was done 1946 to 1952.
Today the old Town Hall is part of the City museum. https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gda%C5%84sk_Town_Hall
(at Đài phun nước Neptune, Gdańsk) https://www.instagram.com/p/Cj3OrioPqCv/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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zazter-den · 9 months
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Sweet Tooth
Minors Do Not Interact
Common Scents Series: Cat Bath, Sweet Tooth.
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Synopsis- Izuku likes the freedom of being a very private business owner when he has dual lives to run. After all it allows him to "hire" himself as a new worker to get close to Barista!Reader- Wait, why do you smell burnt?
Warnings- Yandere, Dubcon, Stalking, Drugging, Overstim, Size Diff, Mindbreak.
Tags-Aged up(obviously), Hybrid AU, Rabbit!Izuku, Dom!Izuku, Afab!reader, Sub!Reader. Kitchen sex, Scentmarking, Creampie, Excessive seed, Undercover boss, Oral!receiving.
Word Count- 8.1K, because apparently I missed the coziness of Autumn
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Izuku sat in the manager's office, the soft glow of the moon filtered through the skylight, casting a gentle radiance upon his features. Short, curly forest green hair, slightly disheveled from his earlier preparations, framed his face in an endearing manner as he sat back in the cushy chair. His emerald green eyes, filled with anticipation, seemed to glimmer and reflect the moonlight, adding a glow to his gaze.
Sitting up, he carefully removed his silver rings with practiced ease, each etched with swirling thorned vines and placed them into a velvet-lined box before making his way to the safe hidden in the wooden paneling of the small room.
Next, Izuku's attention turned to his hunting knife, a weapon as beautiful as it is deadly. He gripped the handle, his hand steady and sure, and twirled it effortlessly in the air. The moonlight danced along the metal, illuminating the intricate green thorn designs that ran down the blade. With a measured flick of his wrist, Izuku sheathed the blade, and it disappeared into the hidden safe. The compartment closed with a soft click, concealed behind an intricately designed wooden panel once again. Sealing away his secrets until they are needed once more.
Leaving the manager's office behind, Izuku made his way through the empty cafe, his steps light and silent as he headed toward the kitchen to prepare for the day ahead. The 'Lunar Rabbit' cafe's pristine jade green walls, soft lighting, and delicate hanging glass terrariums created a serene atmosphere, inviting its inhabitants to relax and escape the chaos of the outside world. Izuku being no exception.
In the quiet solitude of the kitchen, the signature evergreen scent of the café mingled with the aroma of matcha and lime. Izuku's tall figure gracefully moved around the kitchen, his large rabbit ears twitching with every soft sound. Like second nature, he set up the kitchen before taking the bright green citrus butter out of the fridge.
When it came to rabbit hybrids, most people weren't used to seeing Flemish Giants. Clad in a light green t-shirt, tightly hugging his well-defined muscles, Izuku's towering physique was more reminiscent of a predator hybrid, his strength barely hidden beneath a veneer of dorky charm and wit.
With precise movements, Izuku began preparing the perfectly striped, two-toned croissants that the 'Lunar Rabbit' cafe is known for. He measured the ingredients meticulously, his attention to detail reflected in every step. There is a comfort and tranquility in the act of creating, a stress reliever that he cherished amidst his dual lives.
The rhythmic sound of his palm hitting the dough, gently flattening it, filled the dark kitchen. Izuku's movements are methodical and precise, almost hypnotizing, as he continued to work on the matcha-lime croissant dough. His thoughts drifted to his upcoming shift with you, and he couldn't help but feel a wave of excitement wash over him.
Izuku was under your spell from your very first shift at one of his cafes. He had watched you on the security cameras for months, studying every little detail. Your moves, your smile, the way you interacted with customers. Izuku was drawn to you like a moth to flame, captivated by charm and spirit.
Izuku imagined you standing there, your lovely form illuminated by the soft café lights, under the delicate swaying terrarium spheres. He could already see himself making your favorite flavored latte, as he's seen you make it countless times on the security feed. How many times did he tweak that syrup to get it just to your liking? The thought of serving you a cup he made himself brought a smile to his face, his green eyes glowing with anticipation.
Lost in his fantasies, Izuku accidentally spilled some flour onto his t-shirt. Chuckling softly to himself, he brushed off the white powder and ran his fingers between his ears and through his short curly forest green hair, basking in the thrill of the upcoming shift.
He focused his attention on the task at hand, skillfully wrapping the mix in plastic wrap and placing it in the fridge to rest until tomorrow. Drumming a brawny calloused hand against the fridge door, he grabbed a sheet of pre-chilled blueberry-lemon dough before closing the door with his heel.
At the kitchen island counter, Izuku's hands worked the dough skillfully, his fingers deftly shaping it into perfect croissants. The dough was soft and pliable, and Izuku liked the feel of the texture against his fingertips. It was smooth and velvety, the aroma of smashed berries and lemon rind wafted through the air as he worked. Izuku appreciated scents that complimented his own. Citrus, teas, your jasmine-like signature.
Shaping the pastry mix, his mind briefly wandered to thoughts of what it would be like to touch you, to feel your curves beneath his hands. Lost again in daydreams, Izuku envisioned the feel of your silky skin against his callouses and scars, his mind conjuring images of your usual flowery fragrance intertwining with his yuzu and evergreen scent. The thought of your lips, soft and inviting, added to his desires, and his thoughts wandered to the taste of you, the way your lips would feel against his own.
Izuku's mind is completely consumed by the thought, and he could feel the heat pooling rapidly within him. He desperately wanted to trace the contours of your body, his fingertips exploring every inch, as his desire continued to build. His breath grew heavy. With a raspy whimper escaping his lips, Izuku momentarily lost himself in his fantasies, feeling bead of pre-cum line the tip of his straining erection. The excitement building within him became overpowering, overwhelming his senses.
As his arousal grew, Izuku's scent turned musky, blending with his natural citrus evergreen aroma. Izuku's eager slit continued to weep the viscous fluid, the sticky patch of his boxers trapped against the thick head of his dick. As he continued his task, every so often the precum slick fabric would slide forcefully against his tip, eliciting another deep groan from his lips. His need for you at this point was overwhelming, almost unbearable, and his foot tapped on the floor in rabbit-like frustrated anticipation.
It was a struggle for Izuku to maintain focused on his work, his mind overloaded with longing and the intense desire to fulfill every single one of his fantasies with you. He took a moment to compose himself, releasing a pent-up growl of frustration under his breath. He couldn't afford to lose his shit on day one and scare you off, he wasn't some amateur.
Knowing he must regain control, Izuku attempted to once again throw himself into getting the shop ready for the morning rush. With a reluctant sigh, Izuku carefully took out the raspberry two-toned croissants that he had prepped the day before, placing them on the kitchen island counter to be baked for today's morning rush.
Izuku looked at the clock hanging on the wall, he just needed to be patient.
⊰⋆∘☽༓☾∘⋆⊱⊰⋆∘☽༓☾∘⋆⊱⊰⋆∘☽༓☾∘⋆⊱⊰⋆∘☽༓☾∘⋆⊱⊰⋆∘☽༓☾∘⋆⊱⊰⋆∘☽༓☾∘⋆⊱
When you first stirred from slumber, your first instinct was to dive back under the blankets in the pre-dawn darkness. Slowly peeling back the covers of your cozy bed, the moon cast a dim glow through the window, barely highlighting your room.
As you slid your feet out from under the quilts and sat up in the chilly room, your sleep blurred gaze fell on the neatly arranged uniform laid out on the dresser. The tan and jade green dress holds an air of cute professionalism and elegance, perfectly suited for your role at one of the 'Lunar Rabbit' cafes.
As you took off your pajamas, your gaze wanders downward, landing upon the growing bruises and scratches that marred your sore hips. You shook your head softly, a mix of emotions flooding rational thoughts. Last night with Katsuki, the tiger you shared your apartment with, had been...intense to say the least, at times his territorial nature could cross bounds. It seemed his bestial inclinations towards you often manifested in these marks and an aching pussy full of the feral feline's load. It had been necessary to join him in the bath, to wash away any traces of other scents but his own, before he was satisfied last night.
Tossing your head in frustrated resignation, you took a deep breath, attempting to push the memory of those bruises aside. You adjusted your uniform in the mirror, determination to face the day with your usual brand of professionalism. With each careful movement, you purposefully shed the weight of hectic apartment life, transforming into the dedicated and fun-loving barista that your colleagues and patrons know you to be.
The early morning air carried an invigorating crispness as you stepped out of your apartment, the pitch darkness of the night slowly yielding to a beautiful, dark purple sky. The stars twinkled above, casting a gentle luminescence upon the world below. The beauty of the early morning took your breath away.
Walking through the quiet streets, you took in the sights of the autumn morning. Vibrant hues of orange and red adorned the foliage, casting a mystical fall atmosphere all around. The gentle crunching of leaves under your feet became a soothing background melody, heightening your anticipation for the day to come. It's a picturesque scene that brings a smile to your face as you take in the beauty around you.
The short walk to the 'Lunar Rabbit' café is refreshing, the cool breeze gently caresses your skin, and you can't help but lift your face towards the sky, embracing the tranquility of the morning. The scent of dew-kissed grass and the earthy fragrance of autumn fills the air, creating a calming atmosphere.
Unlocking the door, you entered the cozy café intricately designed with a charming lunar forest theme. Most of the walls were adorned in a relaxing jade green color, with glistening glass sphere terrariums hanging gracefully from the ceiling. Creating a sense of tranquility whenever the light caught the floating gardens just right.
But it's the back wall mural that always draws the attention of customers—a breathtaking depiction of ethereal rabbits, crafted from swirling shadows, engaged in a graceful dance beneath a moonlit sky adorned with countless stars.
The careful brush strokes bring the scene to life, immersing you in a mysterious and whimsical world. The rabbits are beautifully painted, their whirling silhouettes seem to come alive under the gentle glow of dawn and fairy lights, creating an otherworldly ambiance. It's a mesmerizing sight in the early morning, one that never failed to captivate you in the dark hours.
You stepped into the dim kitchen, a sense of familiarity washing over. The soft glow of the moon outside cast a gentle illumination, highlighting the edges of the counter tops and appliances. You began gathering the necessary ingredients to create the delectable quiches that will soon grace the cafe's display case.
The movement is sudden. You only caught the shifting of shadows on the opposite side of the kitchen out of the corner of your eye. Your heart thumped rapidly against your chest as your attention was drawn to the mysterious figure standing upright near the ovens, rising to full height in a fluid motion. The towering silhouette seemed to materialize out of nowhere from the depths of the dark kitchen. For a split second, you could swear you saw his eyes glimmer in the shadows, as if they were momentarily aglow with a vivid emerald light.
The initial shock sends a jolt of adrenaline coursing through your previously fatigued body. Startled by the unexpected sight, your muscles tensed, ready to defend yourself if necessary. Eyes narrowed, trying to make sense of the hulking man's presence, you ran through your options.
Then Izuku shifted forward, the illumination from the skylight instantly brightening his features. The ethereal glow revealed his forest green ears nestled in curly hair, and vivid green eyes, capturing the essence of mischief and charm that so often accompanies his presence. A genial grin tugged at the corners of his lips, “Mornin'!” he chirped, closing the oven behind him, the raspberry croissants settled on the racks. His soft rabbit ears entirely too perky for this pre-dawn hour.
Recognition immediately dawned on you, and a mix of relief and frenzied amusement flooded your features. A little laugh escaped your lips, laced with a touch of underlying nervousness, as your eyes met Izuku's. "Midoriya! Damn, you scared me." you exclaimed, the words tumbling out with a hint of manic energy. Izuku's grin widened as you stammered, the sound of his name on your lips seemingly delighting him. Your laughter lingered in the air, relief palpable. All you could do is laugh off the initial fright, glad to see a familiar face in the dimly lit tranquility of the kitchen.
Wait.
Your brow furrowed as confusion washed over. The gears in your exhaustion-addled mind began to turn, piecing together the inconsistency of Izuku's presence in the closed cafe at such an early hour. As a new employee, Izuku shouldn't have the keys to the establishment. "How did you get in?" You blurted out, voice equal parts curiosity and suspicion. You looked at him, searching for an explanation.
Attempting to quell any rising doubts, Izuku quickly weaved a web of deception, words slipping off his silver tongue with practiced ease. His response was laced with an air of authority, as if the decision had been handed down by corporate in a moment of desperation. "Ms.Usagiyama gave me a key," he stated, his voice confident and unwavering. "They needed someone to fill in as an overnight baker, and it seems I was their best option."
When was the last time he had called her anything but Mirko?
Your surprise was blatantly displayed across your face as you registered the information. You didn't expect management, especially Rumi, to be handing out keys so freely and enlist new employees for overnight baking duties. Then again... given the rather unexpected departure of one of the bakers, you supposed the situation must be dire enough to warrant such desperate measures given the shop's popularity.
“...It'll be nice to have help in the mornings” With a shrug, you dismissed your initial doubts, content to accept Izuku's explanation. After all, you're just a team lead, not really the position to harp on the decisions made by upper management when you'll only get a headache for your trouble. As the manager of your location, Rumi can deal with that nonsense. The fact that you're just honestly grateful for the extra hands during the morning rush seems to override any lingering uncertainties.
You stretched your arms out wide, movements fluid and graceful, as a yawn escaped your lips. Fatigue lingered beneath the surface, evident in the slight droop of your eyelids and the darkened circles barely visible beneath your eyes. A testament to your restless night of sleep, body aching from the intensity of the “bath” you shared with Katsuki.
You offered Izuku a small, tired smile as you spoke, voice carrying a soft, lingering weariness. "I'm going to get the quiches ready in the other oven," you said with sleepy determination.
A moment later, as you set about your task, Izuku's acute senses detected a faint scent of burning sugar, tickling the edges of his nostrils. His eyes immediately darted towards the ovens, but upon closer inspection, he realized that the raspberry croissants had only just begun baking, their doughy forms barely touched by the heat. He dismissed the fleeting scent, assuring himself that it must have been a mere figment of his imagination.
Silently observing you moved past him, Izuku's gaze lingered on the circles under your eyes, a telltale sign of exhaustion and a restless sleep. Concern flickered in his emerald gaze, a twinge of protectiveness already tugging at his chest. He silently resolved to ensure that in time you understood that he was there for your well-being, even if you remained blissfully unaware of his true intentions.
Taking it upon himself to ease your tiredness, Izuku moved with a flurry of efficiency at the tea counter. His fingers gracefully danced across the array of tea leaves, their aroma filling the air, selecting his own special blend to help ease your weary spirit. His movements were precise and purposeful, a silent gesture of care for the woman who stood just a few feet away. You vaguely heard the clink of one of the kettles, as he prepared a cup colored with your favorite hue.
You carefully closed the door of the oven, the final quiche now tucked away to bake to golden perfection. You wiped your hands on your apron, turning around just as Izuku walked over, cradling a cup of tea in his large hands. Leaning against the kitchen island, your tired eyes blinked back the haze of exhaustion, momentarily jolted back to alertness as Izuku approached.
“This the seasonal energy tea blend?” Your gaze drifted down to the cup, its colorful pattern a perfect match to your favorite shade. You paused for a moment, a flicker of surprise crossing your features, but quickly brushed off the coincidence. After all, how could the new guy know such a personal detail? Thanking Izuku with a sweet smile, you accepted the cup and immediately felt the relaxing warmth it radiated.
The steam rose in ethereal tendrils, almost imperceptible in the dim light that filtered through the skylight overhead. Your eyes followed the wisps up towards the still dark pink sunrise through the window, their graceful dance capturing your attention briefly before you brought the cup to your lips.
With each passing second, Izuku's senses were assailed by that same faint smell that evoked a sense of ...smoke? His brows furrowed ever so slightly, his eyes narrowing in confusion. It lingered in the air, a faint odor that didn't align with the barely warm food in the oven. Izuku couldn't have known it was due to Katsuki, your territorial roommate, his pheromones carrying a note of smoldering embers. The scent itself evoked a strong dislike within Izuku, as his attention to detail in the pastry-making artistry made even the slightest indication of burning a source of disdain. Izuku swept over the kitchen, muttering to himself, trying to locate the source of the offensive smell.
As your finished the last sip of the steaming tea, a wave of warmth washed over you, permeating your body from the inside out. The autumn morning chill retreated, replaced by a comforting sensation that wrapped around you like a cozy blanket. The embrace of the herbal infusion wove its soothing spell, making you feel pleasantly drowsy in the brisk kitchen.
"I'm thinking this new morning tea is a miss" you muttered as you glared half-heartedly at the leaf dregs of the delicious brew. The aching fatigue that had clung to you began to dissipate, replaced by a gentle drowsiness that weighed down your eyelids. A yawn escaped your lips, body responding to the tea's intended purpose. Izuku stepped close, closer than necessary, as he reached out to take the empty tea cup from your hand.
You held out the cup, your hand hovering in the air as Izuku moved closer. But it's in that moment, as Izuku inhaled the lingering scent, nose giving a small twitch, that his gaze narrowed with a sudden intensity. Your drowsy mind failed to register the glare of his emerald eyes, an indication of something more than casual curiosity.
"Why...do you smell like you fell in a damn bonfire?" Izuku's words carried a sharpness, a demand rather than mere inquiry. They sliced through the air, hanging there with a weight that is impossible to ignore. His voice had cut through the air with an uncharacteristic edge, void of the easygoing nature she had come to associate with the coworker facade he portrayed.
Your heart skipped a beat, embarrassment flooding your features as Izuku's question settled in. You were stunned for a moment, the truth of the situation hanging heavily on your heart. Of course, you realized, Izuku's hybrid senses would pick up the scent left behind by Katsuki last night. How could you forget?
Scratches, cum, and pheromones laid on you the night before when Katsuki sensed Izuku's touch from when he thanked you during training. His possessiveness in the bath had been clear, his words a promise of violence should Izuku dare to lay a hand on you again.
A knot formed in the pit of your stomach as embarrassment filled your voice, intertwining with a shard of defiance. "I...uh...had a bit of a disagreement with my room mate last night," you admitted, voice barely above a whisper. "But it's nothing to worry about, really."
Your admission threatened to tip the scales of the delicate equilibrium. Whether or not you were fully aware, the territorial boundaries have already been drawn between the territorial tiger and the love-mad hare. The situation a powder keg waiting to ignite, and Izuku the bastard he is, was going to make sure it blew up in the face of this “room mate” of yours.
Izuku's large hands swiftly found their place on your hips, his touch firm yet careful. In one fluid motion, he effortlessly lifted you clean off your feet and placed you onto the island counter. The contrast in your heights is stark, you find yourself still having to tilt your chin to look up in shock at Izuku. His long ears twitched with barely restrained irritation.
As Izuku's nose scrunched involuntarily, a mix of emotions surged within him. The scent of Katsuki, with its notes of cayenne, brown caramel, and smoldering embers, emanated from you like a provocative challenge even without a claim on your neck. To Izuku, it reeked like burnt sugar, an acrid aroma that didn't deserve a place within the confines of his shops.
His possessive instincts kicked into overdrive, an unwavering determination surging through his veins. He leaned down, his breath warm against the soft skin of your neck, his voice dropping to a low, firm tone. "You know," he began, his voice carrying a velvety cadence. "we can't have you smelling like that. It doesn't suit you, and it definitely doesn't suit this cafe."
“After all, who wants to eat in a smoky bakery?” Izuku finished as he knelt with calculated grace, his strong, muscular frame shifting closer to your exposed thighs. As he positioned himself between your parted legs, Izuku's eyes lock onto yours. In the short time you've known him, Izuku's eyes have never seemed this intense, brimming with an unwavering determination to claim you as his, to erase any trace of Katsuki's scent and replace it with his own. Your breath hitched softly, eyes widening at the audacity of Izuku's actions. Looking down at the fierce Flemish Giant between your thighs, you weren't sure you really wanted him to stop, consequences be damned.
Leaning back against the cold counter top, you let out a soft gasp as Izuku's lips met the inside of your knee. The contrast between the cool stone and the warmth of his mouth adds to the growing pleasure that courses through your body.
As Izuku's lips continued their path up your thigh, he deftly moved your cute underwear down your trembling legs. a shiver ran down your spine as the cold morning air kissed your exposed folds. The delicate material glided lower, clinging momentarily to your thighs before slipping over your uniform shoes.
Izuku's emerald eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he took a moment to appreciate the shade of green of the fabric. You're already wearing his color, he couldn't have planned it better himself. With a small grin against your soft skin, he quickly tucked your panties into his pocket, claiming another piece of you for himself while he distracted you with kisses and nips along your thigh.
Izuku's chuckle had a dark edge to it, tinged with an unmistakable sense of triumph as Katsuki's scent gradually began to dissipate. Your slick hole starting to carry the familiar fragrance of your usual jasmine, proof of Izuku's determined assertion of dominance over any traces of his new rival's presence.
With a deliberate and confident movement, Izuku pushed the bottom of your thighs up, hooking your ankles over his broad shoulders and positioning himself between your legs. His biceps barely flexed as his large tan hands gently scooted your hips closer to the edge of the counter, granting him better access to your tantalizingly wet pussy. The shadowy figures of your bodies blended together in the dark kitchen, the only source of light being the faint glow of the dark pink sunrise streaming through the skylight above. The faint rays of the sunrise dance across Izuku's face, highlighting his handsome features and the determination in his emerald green eyes.
Izuku's lips found their way to your tender slit, his tongue gently flicking and teasing your hooded pearl. The expert motions and the expert blend of pleasure and pressure elicited from his mouth heightened the sensations coursing through your body, intensifying your pleasure with each passing moment. Your taste was intoxicating to him, driving his desire further, as if he can't get enough.
Then again, he always did have a sweet tooth.
As his tongue hungrily slipped inside your aching cunt, suddenly the weight of Izuku's actions broke through the sleepy haze. Your mind flashed back to the conversation you had with Katsuki the night before, a warning that now echoed in your head. The realization hit you like a ton of bricks, "My room mate is gonna be pissed.” You groaned into your hands. The memory of Katsuki's threat looms in the back of your mind, a promise of violence should Izuku dare to lay a hand on you again.
Izuku lifted his gaze, a mischievous grin spreading across slick lips, as he locked eyes with you. His rabbit ears moved, playfully expressing his amusement. "Oh? And what is your room mate gonna do?" he retorted, a playful challenge in his voice. Without a hint of hesitation, he dives back down, his lips and tongue resuming their intoxicating dance against your sensitive folds and clit . He seemed completely unfazed by the threat, his confidence unyielding, a trait born of his secret life.
Even though the haze of pleasure, you hesitated for a moment, contemplating whether you should reveal the full extent of Katsuki's threat. Reluctantly, you gave in, letting the words slip out before your pleasure-addled brain could catch up. "He said he was gonna 'put you in the ground'," you admitted, lust thick voice tinged with a hint of unease.
Izuku's grip on your hips tightened, his possessive desire flaring again within him. The threat of violence from Katsuki barely registers as a deterrent. With a sinister glimmer in his eyes, Izuku responded, his voice laced with barely-contained excitement. "Is that so?" he murmured darkly, relishing the challenge "Let him try, I don't see a claim on your pretty neck." Without wasting another moment, Izuku went back to work, his mouth and tongue working diligently to replace any remnant of Katsuki's presence.
Feeling a sudden surge of mixed emotions—fear, excitement, desire—your hands had a mind of their own as they reached down lightly grazing over the soft, velvety texture of Izuku's rabbit ears. They quivered beneath your touch, responding to your exploration with an almost eager sensitivity.
As your fingers tangled in his forest green locks, you felt the warmth of Izuku's growl vibrating against your sensitive pussy, an intimate sound that resonated deep within you. The way his growl reverberated against your heated core sent shivers down your spine, making your swollen clit ache with need.
Izuku's mouth continued its relentless assault on your dripping cunt, his agile tongue expertly explored every hidden crevice, every secret fold, as if he was committing your every contour to memory. Each breathless moan that escaped your lips fueled Izuku's frenzy further.
For a moment, the tension in the air feels electric, a heightened awareness of the forbidden nature of your encounter. Despite the threat hanging over Izuku's head, he had explosive pleasure coursing through your body, casting an intoxicating spell over both of you. It's a dangerous game you've walked into, driven by the irresistible magnetism that seems to resonate between you and the hybrids in your life. The world around you seemed to fade away, the though of any brewing storm quickly silenced by the chorus of your erratic breaths and the wet sounds of Izuku's devouring lips.
With each passing moment, Izuku's own arousal became more apparent, his throbbing erection pressing insistently against the fabric of his pants, boxers already growing slippery with precum. The sheer desire in his eyes lit up the dim space, reflecting the hunger growing inside, as his tongue continued its wicked exploration.
As the sensations kept building, Izuku's nibbles along the sensitive skin of your inner thighs grew insistent, his teeth grazing your tender folds with just the right amount of pressure to send waves of tingling pleasure coursing through your veins. Each nip sends surges of electricity shooting up your spine, heightening your already stimulated state.
With a final, gentle nip, Izuku's attention returned to your swollen clit, his talented mouth engulfing it entirely, his tongue milking the pleasure from your body with a hunger born of his obsessive adoration.
The cold surface of the kitchen counter beneath you contrasted sharply with the scorching heat that consumed your being. It further intensified the sensations, making your body arch uncontrollably, craving more of Izuku's skilled tongue and the delicious friction against your dripping slit. As Izuku continued his tantalizing assault, a whirlwind of pleasure tore through you. Every touch, every lick, is electrifying, driving you to the edge of sanity and euphoria.
Your body responded instinctively to Izuku's ministrations, muscles tightening, drawing you closer to the precipice of your first orgasm. The familiar coil of ecstasy grew within, winding tighter with each flick of his tongue and gentle suction against your throbbing clit.
And then it happened—your climax hit you with an intensity that knocked the air out of your lungs. It crashed over you like a tidal wave, shattering any composure you still had and leaving you breathless and trembling. Your body quaked, as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you, drowning out rational thought.
As the echoes of your orgasm still shook you, Izuku didn't let up. His mouth continued to work its magic, prolonging the throes of your pleasure, drawing out every last drop of intoxication from your trembling body. The sensations are almost too much to bear, your mind spiraling in a haze of ecstasy as he licked you dry.
“Do I still reek?” Voice trembling, as you questioned whether the lingering scent of burnt caramel still clung to the air. But Izuku, always perceptive, noted the shift in your aroma, the return of your usual sweet jasmine-like scent. A return that happened a little too quickly for his oral fixation, to be quite honest.
A devious gleam danced in Izuku's emerald eyes as he listened to your words. He leaned back slightly on his knees, his chest rising and falling with his own ragged breaths. "Oh. Sorry, you still smell burnt," he lied with ease, a feigned apologetic smile playing at the corners of his lips. In this moment, he reveled in the idea of indulging his sweet tooth on the object of his obsession- You.
What was another white lie in the grand scheme of things?
Before you could respond, overcome with desire, Izuku plunged back down between your trembling thighs. The sudden latch to your swollen bead caused you to buck against the cold counter, your fingers instinctively tightening around the curls at the base of Izuku's rabbit ears, holding on for dear life. A sharp twinge of over-sensitivity mingles with the persistent pleasure, adding another layer to the overwhelming sensations.
Nose pressed against your mound, Izuku's tongue delved deep, searching for every trace of their intoxicating cum. His mouth moved with a fevered rhythm, his ministrations calculated and purposeful. His tongue speared through your slick folds, flicking and teasing as if he planned to consume every intimate drop. He couldn't get enough of your taste.
Meanwhile, your body danced on the edge of ecstasy once again. The contrasting sensations of pleasure and sensitivity, sent electric currents shooting through every nerve. With each movement of Izuku's skilled tongue, your hips involuntarily bucked and writhed, seeking more of that delicious contact.
As you came a second time, a loud cry escaped your lips, reverberating through the dimly lit space. The intensity of the sensation threatened to overwhelm you, nerves tingling with each tantalizing touch of his skilled tongue.
Izuku's own desire burned hot within him, waiting to be unleashed. Amidst your writhing against his face, Izuku's hips involuntarily jerked forward, another surge of precum staining his boxers. The feeling of the slick fabric against the head of his dick only served to increase his hunger for you.
As your thighs instinctively attempted to clamp shut around Izuku's head in a desperate bid to shield your oversensitive clit, his arms flexed, exerting a near herculean strength to keep them in place. With your back arched and thighs trembling in his hands, you were entirely at Izuku's mercy. It was just easier to surrender to the Flemish Giant's powerful hold rather than fight his iron grip.
Izuku's movements remained unyielding, a relentless pace that threatened to push you past the limits of pleasure and into the realm of cumdrunk ecstasy. In all honesty however, Izuku's own need fueled his actions, his tongue dancing deftly, exploring every hidden crevice with fervor. Maybe he was the cumdrunk one at this point.
“T-too sensitive 'Zuku” your plea for him to let up fell on deaf ears as Izuku wickedly ignored your words, except for the cute way you whimpered his name. Izuku could listen to you stuttering his first name in pleasure for the rest of his life. He took pleasure in pushing you to your limits, eager to indulge in his own selfish desires without hesitation. He had waited so long for this moment, he was going to get his fill. Or at least enough to satiate him while he made his claim.
"You can handle cumming for me again," Izuku insisted, his voice filled with dark adoration as he denied you mercy, before plunging back between your folds. Fuck, he loved you clamping down on his tongue like this, he only hoped you could handle all of him.
Your body quivered in response, overwhelmed by the heightened sensitivity of the onslaught on your swollen clit. Izuku's unwavering focus and iron grip left no room for escape or mercy. His tongue pressed skillfully, teasing and taunting your most sensitive spots, delving in with fervor and purpose. The taste of you, the intoxicating flavor that mingled with your heavenly musk, is like a drug to him, an addiction that drove him deeper into his feral desires.
Your body squirmed uncontrollably, overcome by the unbearable pleasure Izuku exerted on you. Every gentle nip and forceful suck sends you writhing. In desperation, your hands find solace in reaching the base of Izuku's rabbit ears, gently tugging with an almost desperate plea. Too much..!
But far from slowing down Izuku, the sensations of your tender grip on his ears only served to fuel his primal instincts. It's as if the touch of your shaky hands ignited a feral fire within him, intensifying the frenzied pace of his ministrations. His own need reached a fever pitch, his tongue dancing with an even more voracious appetite, ravishing every inch of your cunt.
Your body reacted uncontrollably to the overwhelming sensations, saliva escaping your lips as you moaned and whimpered in a haze of pleasure. Your legs twitching and trembling, but Izuku's firm grip prevented you from dislodging him, keeping you at his mercy.
The sound of Izuku eating out your soaked cunt echoed within the otherwise empty café kitchen, the lewd noises amplified by the decorated tiles. Your grip on the base of Izuku's furry ears tightened, desperation evident as you sought an anchor to ground herself amidst the waves of pleasure forced on you.
Driven by his feral determination, Izuku continued to devour you with a relentless pace. His imposing length now popping up and over the band of his slick boxers, yearned for release. As your squirms and whimpers grew more unrestrained, your body teetered on the edge of a precipice, ready to crash to a blinding climax.
As Izuku forced a third orgasm from your bullied clit, your vision faded into a hazy whiteness, the sheer intensity of the pleasure causing your consciousness to spiral into a realm of overwhelming ecstasy. Your mind became consumed by a kaleidoscope of sensations, blurring the boundaries of pleasure and reality. Your entire being is overwhelmed by the whiteout, a surge of ecstasy that drowns out all other thoughts and sensations.
You remained lost in your own world of ecstasy, mind blissfully blank by the overwhelming pleasure that coursed through your veins. In the midst of the pleasure-induced haze, you barely registered Izuku standing to his full height pushing 7 feet, his uniform khakis and boxers shifted low on his chiseled hips. His imposing figure cast a shadow over your flushed form. He reveled in the sight of your face caught in the throes of your cumdrunk daze, body trembling and clearly craving further gratification.
Who was he to deny you?
With another shift of fabric, Izuku's thick cock sprung forth, liberated from its confines, hardened and throbbing. His erection stood tall despite it's weight, demanding attention, the embodiment of Izuku's primal nature. Flemish Giants are big in, well, every way. If your mind wasn't completely blank right now, you'd probably be worried about how the monstrous girth could fit in you. A concern Izuku clearly didn't have.
With an unquenchable desire driving him, Izuku moved between your quivering thighs, positioning himself to align with your sopping entrance still twitching from your last orgasm. The immense size of his swollen cock head presented a challenge for your tight and unprepared opening. Your poor pussy's struggle to accommodate Izuku's massive girth sent shockwaves through both of your bodies, setting the stage for the battle between resistance and persistence. Don't worry, he'll make sure he fits.
The first few frantic and desperate tries by Izuku only drew a frustrated growl from the large hybrid. Your body strained to accommodate the overwhelming size of Izuku's cock, your senses overloaded with both pleasure and over sensitivity. But with a slick pop, the tip of Izuku's engorged member finally breached your entrance, forcing its way inside.
You remained blissfully lost in a euphoric haze, your body intertwined with Izuku's as he leaned over you. The cafe's dim lighting from the sunrise cast gentle shadows across the kitchen, highlighting Izuku's disheveled green curls and the captivating glow of his emerald eyes, resembling one of the rabbits forged from swirling shadows on the mural that adorns the wall.
Leaning over you, Izuku's dominant side asserts itself, swiftly pressing your knees up towards your shoulders. Applying pressure to open them wider, he exposed every inch of your quivering slit spread tight around the head of his dick. With a growl of determination, Izuku bullied his way further inside your depths, his larger size causing a twinge of pain as he stretched you to your limit to accommodate him. Your body struggled with the difference between him and Katsuki.
The sheer size of Izuku's cock, larger than even your room mate's, brings a mixture of pleasure and ache to your sensitized cunt. While Katsuki's barbs had their own unique sting, the contrast in size between him and the rabbit currently using you like a fucktoy induced new levels of soreness and bliss.
Izuku thinks he may have found heaven when he finally breaks in your pussy enough for his monstrous dick to bottom out against your cervix. Undeterred by your cunt's struggle, Izuku sets a rapid rabbit pace, his thrusts forceful and demanding.
The sound of their intertwining bodies filled the room, the wet slapping of Izuku's balls against your ass creating a rhythm that added to the sound of their escalating pleasure. Despite the stinging stretch, you remained freely vocal, too lost in your bliss to be concerned about anything else. Izuku's moans and your cries filled the air, adding to the sinful symphony.
As Izuku's large muscles flexed, his grip on the counter edge on either side of your head tightened, seeking leverage to thrust even more deeply. His forearms came to rest on the cold surface. Your knees were pinned again Izuku's chest, as each of his motions rocked your body forcefully against the stone counter of the kitchen island.
As Izuku continued his relentless pace, his large muscles flexing with each powerful thrust, his emerald eyes shone with feral bliss. Soft forest green ears were pinned back against his curls, a clear sign of his animalistic desire taking hold. Noticing your slightly pained fucked-out expression, Izuku found a sort of sadistic glee in your reactions. He couldn't help but revel in the sense of superiority it gave him.
No fucking way that crispy room mate of yours has ever filled you like this before.
"Aw, am I too big? Does it sting?" Izuku crooned huskily in your ear, voice filled with a twisted sense of satisfaction. "Fuck..! Taking me like such a good little pet- I knew you could handle it.” Even if his love is tainted by selfish obsession, he takes genuine pride in your resilience. Not everyone could take his bitch breaking girth the first time. Or at all.
You could only offer a weak nod in response to what little you catch of his words. Your walls clung to his thick length, the stretch more than you've ever experienced before. Yet, your blissed-out state allowed you to push through the discomfort of having your guts rearranged, exchanging it for a facet of ecstasy that only Izuku could provide. You were intoxicated.
The grip of your walls around his pulsing member further fueled his desire, his relentless pace never faltering. Your pussy clung desperately to his too thick cock, the force of each slam eliciting a a ragged gasp as he bottomed out against your cervix. His intense gaze locks onto your dilated eyes, drinking in every nuance of your cumdrunk expressions as you submitted to him completely.
For Izuku, this moment is the culmination of his desires since the moment you were hired at one of his coffee shops. His obsessive desire for you have driven him to go to great lengths, even "hiring" himself as a barista to get close to you. Now, his darkest desires are being fulfilled, the mate he craves finally within his grasp.
Fuck, he wasn't going to last much longer with you looking past him all fucked-out like that.
Intense pleasure coursing through your veins, you were overcome by the sensory overload of cumming again. Saliva escaped your parted lips, a shiny trail down the side of your chin. Your moans and whimpers intermingled with the wet, lewd sounds of your boss' thrusts into you, heavy balls accentuating squelches with quick slaps against your ass. Your gushing cunt walls attempted to tighten around Izuku's massive member with some success as you reached one last mind shattering orgasm. Your trembling pussy clamped down as best it could, Izuku thrusting all the while.
As he reached his own tipping point, Izuku's rabbit ears stood straight up, a visible sign of his peaking pleasure. “S-shit” He whined, your tight cunt was strangling his cock, causing his foot to bounce uncontrollably as he thrust as fast as possible. Each slam was met with the rhythmic spasming of your walls, clenching onto his too thick length with a desperate intensity. The sensation of your pussy clinging to his dick on every exiting pull, and the feel of his mushroom tip slamming against your cervix, was too much for Izuku. Driven by his unbridled desire, Izuku maintained his rabbit-like pace until the end, unable to resist the sweet agony of the tight vice that surrounded him.
With a deep groan of satisfaction, Izuku succumbed to the milking motion of your tight ring of muscles. The tip of his cock became engorged and sensitive, the pressure pushing him over the edge, the slit gushing forth with his warm cum. Pumping spurt after spurt, Izuku filled your womb with his seed, the pulsing sensation mixing with the raw pleasure that coursed through you both. One of his fuzzy ears cocked to the side, a visual display of the euphoria that engulfed him.
As with most rabbit hybrids, Izuku momentarily leaned all his weight on your pinned legs and his forearms, his body collapsing with the intensity of his climax. Your cunt walls stretched tight around his member still milked and clenched, coaxing every drop of his essence from within him. Overwhelmed by the influx of cum you could only moan brokenly in bliss, your consciousness long faded away during your last orgasm.
In the aftermath of your shared climax, Izuku remained trembling and breathless over your spent body, his emerald eyes still gleaming with a primal intensity, as he nuzzled your hair. The cafe was filled with the scent of your combined arousal, a poignant reminder of the powerful connection. A perfect mix of pine needles, yuzu zest and jasmine blossoms in the smug Izuku's opinion.
Much better than that burnt sugar bastard's stench.
Izuku needs a few tries to withdraw from your clasping cunt, before the head of his dick pops free of your pubic ridge with a final jerk of his hips. He hissed in oversensitive pleasure at the sensation of pulling free of your quim. Geez, were all humans this small on the inside? He wondered as his cum began to gush out of you. Izuku's viscous seed quickly flowed down your folds, trailing onto the cold counter top before beginning to drip onto the floor. He could definitely get used to that image. “You should get some rest” Izuku smugly beamed down at you before planting a soft kiss on your forehead, your lids heavy with fatigue. You could hardly fight the chemicals, both natural and otherwise at this point, from pulling you into slumber, and soon you lost the battle. He smiled as he heard your breathing even out, asleep.
Izuku's tea, and it's added ingredient, had taken longer to take effect than he expected. When he saw how exhausted you were, he had just intended for you to nap through your shift. Cuddle with your unconscious form under a cozy blanket in the autumn afternoon during his lunch hour, maybe. Izuku was so glad he'd been given enough time make you cry his name so prettily before you slipped into sleep.
In comparison to this morning, you looked so serene and relaxed, even after your intense encounter. Izuku leaned over you, his forearms resting on the cold stone, nuzzling your hair tenderly. His nose twitched, catching your mingled scents again, making his rabbit ears flick with delight. Izuku, hidden behind his gentle facade once again, wished he had “hired” himself sooner. He could have felt you shuddering around him months ago, but he vowed to make up for lost time now that you were already spreading yourself for him on his kitchen counter.
With gentle care, Izuku's muscular frame picked up your sleeping body from the kitchen counter. He cradled in his arms with a protective tenderness, mindful not to jostle you from slumber. He carried down the hall to the employee room across from the office, where a comfy jade couch awaited, a place for you to rest while he tended to the café.
As Izuku lay you down on the couch, your sleepy form stirred and before turning over with a yawn. Izuku would have stayed there, with his forehead against yours, all day. However, as the sunrise streamed through the kitchen skylight, Izuku became aware of just how late in the morning it was. With the sun coming up, he only had a few minutes until the coffee shop opened. He watched over you for a moment more, ensuring you were comfortably tucked into a cushy blanket, before he turned his attention to the café.
After all, as the owner of the 'Lunar Rabbit' chain, Izuku had responsibilities to fulfill.
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Izuku is gonna be mad when he realizes he left the pastries in the oven, but raspberry croutons are a small price to pay in the long run.
Comments and Reblogs make a difference!
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Adriaen van Overbeke - The Beheading of Saint John the Baptist -
Adriaen van Overbeke, Adrian van Overbeck and Adriaen van Overbeke (fl 1508 – 1529) was a Flemish Renaissance painter in the style of Antwerp Mannerism. He operated a large workshop with an important output of altarpieces, which were mainly exported to Northern France, the Rhineland and Westphalia. His known works were predominantly polychromed wooden altarpieces with painted shutters, which were created through a collaboration between painters and sculptors.
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foursaints · 30 days
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the rosier twins remind me of charles and camilla macaulay from the secret history by donna tartt, especially this passage:
"they were very much alike, with heavy dark-blonde hair and epicene faces as clear, as cheerful and grave, as a couple of Flemish angels. and perhaps most unusual... they liked to wear pale clothes, particularly white. in this swarm of cigarettes and dark sophistication they appeared here and there like figures from an allegory, or long-dead celebrants from some forgotten garden party. "
and this one:
"side by side, they were very much alike, in similarity less in lineament than of manner and bearing, a correspondence of gesture so that a blink seemed to reverberate, moments later, in a twitch of the other's eyelids. their eyes were the same colour of gray, intelligent and calm. she, i thought, was very beautiful, in an unsettling, almost medieval way which would not be apparent to the casual viewer."
you know?
oh absolutely! i've thought this for ages & the first quote especially has really informed how i talk about and even draw them... the other blonde pair of literary twins i associate them with are perses & pasiphae from circe ("entwined like minks")
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thetudorslovers · 1 year
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"Cease now, thou passing bell,
Rung is my doleful knell,
For its sound my death doth tell.
Death doth draw nigh;
Sound the knell dolefully, for now I die." 🕯🌹
As she knelt there and “awaited the blow,” most of those present followed the example of the Lord Mayor, Sir John Aleyn, and sank to their knees, out of respect for the passing of a soul; only the Dukes of Suffolk and Richmond remained resolutely standing. Anne was still praying aloud, “making no confession of her fault, but saying, ‘O Lord God, have pity on my soul! To Christ I commend my soul!’” Strickland cites an unnamed source that gives her last words as “In manuas tuas”—Into Thy hands. What happened next happened “suddenly”: “immediately, the executioner did his office.”
“The Queen was beheaded according to the manner and custom of Paris, that is to say, with a sword,” which was probably of the finest Flemish steel, and had been “hidden under a heap of straw.” It would have been blunt-tipped, around three or four feet in length, with a two-inch-wide double-edged blade and a leather-bound handle long enough to be gripped by both hands.
“The Queen,” Husee reported only hours afterward, “suffered with sword this day … and died boldly.” Referring to all who had died, he added, “Jesu take them to His mercy.” Even Cromwell was impressed by Anne’s bravery, and that of Rochford, and “greatly praised the intelligence, wit, and courage of the Concubine and her brother.” “She had reigned as queen three years lacking fourteen days, from her coronation to her death,” Wriothesley observed. The Imperialist witness believed that he had “seen the prophecy of Merlin fulfilled.” - Alison Weir, The lady in the Tower
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ameliedebruyne · 2 years
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Writerblr Introduction
About me
Amélie (she/her).
Early 30s.
Writer of Romantic Fantasy.
French writing in English, living in the UK back in France.
Scientist (MSc in Chemical Engineering, PhD in Biomedical Research).
I'm part of the Nanowrimo, 4theWords, and World Anvil writing communities.
On tumblr since 2018, but I haven't really talked about my writing before or interacted with the writeblr community and I'd like to change that!
My novels and favourite tropes
I have a finished novel that I'm currently submitting to agents, 3 other novels in various stages of revision, and a ton of WIPs.
My favourite tropes and settings are:
ennemies-to-lovers romances (in all my stories XD),
magical schools/universities (I've worked in academia for a few years XD),
alternative history (especially 19th century France),
science fantasy and magical technologies,
characters who are some kind of researchers/engineers/teachers,
some disabled characters (I have chronic back pain),
LGBTQ+ -friendly settings.
Beyond novels
I also love:
writing about my characters and worlds on World Anvil,
taking part in worldbuilding challenges with World Anvil,
making art of dubious quality to illustrate my worlds,
reading about science and history,
taking cat pics! (especially Luna, my parents' cat).
Website
For a full list of my WIPs, short and flash fictions, and art of dubious quality:
Main WIPs
Courtship/Rituals of Blood and Power
Finished novel.
Romantic Fantasy.
Need a new novel title, suggestions welcome.
MC inherits the ladyship of a noble house and the enmity of the Dark Lord sworn to destroy it, and she organises a series of elaborate courtship rituals to get other powerful mages to vie for her hand and offer her alliances that could help her survive. Unfortunately, said Dark Lord immediately declares himself as one of her suitors...
The Magical University of Lille
2nd draft.
Fantasy (romance in book 2), Alternative 1850s France.
Aka HP from a teacher's POV.
MC is a teacher having to deal with bad students, deadly competitions for funding and promotion, having the Chosen One as a student, and the attention of a Dark Lord.
Portal To Sérannie
2nd draft.
Current Nanowrimo 2022 project.
Romantic Portal Fantasy.
Inspired by a tumblr prompt!
MC was called to another world to save them from a Dark Lord, but after succeeding she was sent back to France. She is furious and ready to do anything to go back and get the glory she was promised!
Engineering Corps
1st draft
Romantic Science Fantasy, Alternative 1845 France.
Set during the French revolutionary wars. MC is the new leader of the military engineering corps, but she is distrusted because she was born Flemish, in lands recently conquered by France. This is not good at a time when the guillotine is very active...
Divine Tyranny
Novel project - worldbuilding almost finished, novel partly planned.
Project for World Anvil's World Ember 2022 (December worldbuilding event)
Romantic Fantasy.
In a world where gods are all-powerful, walk among mortals, and gleefully meddle with their life, MC is an archivist advising people on how to deal with them while trying to avoid having to do so herself. It becomes harder when a god suddenly wants to mess up the archival records.
Dark Lord Seduction Plan
Novel project - novel plotted, worldbuilding to do
Project for World Ember 2022 (December worldbuilding event)
Romantic Fantasy.
MC is forced by her family to marry, but if she is going to do so, it will only be with the most eligible man in the country. And who is more eligible than the Dark Lord? She only needs to make him realise how amazing she is herself!
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lionofchaeronea · 5 months
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The Visitation of the Virgin to St. Elizabeth, "Master of 1518" (Goosen van der Weyden?) or studio, ca. 1515
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pyehacker · 1 year
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FRANCO-FLEMISH, CIRCA 1500, POSSIBLY ASSEMBLED FROM ELEMENTS OF THE SAME LARGER TAPESTRY                           
A MILLE FLEURS TAPESTRY WITH A UNICORN AND A STAG IN A FIELD OF FLOWERS
Information from Christies:
The renowned series of seven “Unicorn Tapestries” in the collection of the Metropolitan Museum of Art at the Cloisters are the most celebrated examples of this subject matter. The scholarship surrounding this series has greatly increased the understanding of both the narrative and the complex symbols represented. The subject of the unicorn fascinated artists in the middle ages. The mystical creature was thought to be invincible, armed with a horn that possessed a therapeutic power. In the series at the Cloisters, the unicorn is depicted in a manner of attitudes, from gentle to ferocious, passive to animalistic. The wild yet noble stag juxtaposed with the majestic and magical unicorn creates a duality of masculinity and femininity, as well as grace and unrest. In other examples of tapestries that depict both a stag and a unicorn, a more outward display of violence is typically illustrated, but the composition of this work can nearly be interpreted as harmonious, two wild creatures acknowledging the grace and power each possess. No blood is shed, and instead they are peacefully at rest, nestled in colorful millefleurs background. The flora and fauna are equally as significant in their symbolism, and play an important role in the interpretation of the tapestries. In the series of Unicorn Tapestries at the Cloisters, over 100 species of plants and herbals are represented. Medieval herbals such as sage and marigolds, along with species like wild orchids and thistles feature prominently. Here, the field of flowers is a reminder that the unicorn was able to withstand the strongest and most deadly poisonous plants by way of his healing horn.
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geritsel · 1 year
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Abraham Govaerts - Wooded landscape with Gypsy Women (?), 1612.
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definegodliness · 4 months
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Style
Contrary to what might be expected, I am not an avid book reader. Regrettably, I have an incredibly hard time finding stories that captivate me, and am far easier annoyed with writing styles and far sooner bored with subject choices than, I'm sure, would better me. Herein, I'd like to add, not to sound too pedantic, it is mostly the weirdness of my own brain that hinders me. In constant world-dissecting contemplation, therein all too prone to jadedness and world weariness. A rather unruly mind that not only is weird, but also craves weirdness: surprises, sparks of curiosity, and above all confusion; logic in chaos, magic in reality.
Magical realism.
Two days ago I learned about this style of writing, and I'm excited. We had guests over, old friends of my mom and dad; a married couple with whose family we used to spend holidays together. Occasionally they drop by, or my mom and I go to theirs. After catching up, I had to go walk the dog, so I missed out on a lot of fun, and often inspiring, conversations, and when I came back we went from series and movie recommendations --- for which I am also rather useless --- to reading tips.
Now, I have reading tips, but I always add the disclaimer that my mind is weird and my tastes are based on vagueness and obscurity, definitely not for everybody. But as I was, I suppose apologetically, enthusing about Süskind's Perfume and Hesse's Steppenwolf, adding them to 'the borrow pile', the husband had been nodding and finally hummed:
"Magical realism."
Immediately intruiged, I asked him what it was, and he explained it was a certain writing style. He couldn't quite reproduce the exact mannerisms of the style, as it was part of his high school material, but when I spoke about my reading preferences one of his Dutch classes had randomly popped into his mind. And(!) there was a book. He grabbed his phone and searched both Google and his memory simultaneously, until his much anticipated: "A-ha!"
Hubert Lampo
The Coming Of Joachim Stiller
I ordered the book immediately. Today, it arrived, and this evening I started reading. 80 feverishly read pages in I can already say this is EXACTLY what my weird, food-for-thought malnourished brain had been literarily craving. Not only subject wise, but the Flemish Lampo, like our southern neighbours tend to do, writes attentive, therein striving for perfection. Then, Lampo himself treats the Dutch language as an artform. I have to reread bits because I get distracted admiring his craft.
There are so many mind sparkling sentences, and he strings them together without fearing any extra comma or conjunction. Some take up over half a page and I love it. I'll gladly admit it took me some pages to get used to reading such writing again, having solely read poetry and (news) articles for a year or two, but it is such a blessing to not be underestimated as a reader in both vocabulary and attention span.
I put down the book to write down this feeling of joy, and share it, but also to be able to relive the feeling when I head to my mom and dad's friends' place, as a guest, to properly express my thanks for the recommendation.
Don't you adore it when a great book just randomly comes into your life like this? When it finds you as if fated, because it is at a time in your life when you, in hindsight, direly seek its contents.
For obvious reasons, I do. It's one of the little magics I still have left. All my favourite books have come to me randomly, as such. However, two, maybe three years of waiting for such a moment is a long time. That's why I'm also glad that two days ago I got to know about the style. Magical Realism. I'll dive into that as soon as I finish reading, or, better said, consuming The Coming Of Joachim Stiller.
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bestiarium · 2 years
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The Horse of Malegijs [Dutch/Flemish folktales]
Malegijs, often called Maugris in English, is a character from medieval sagas, who supposedly lived in the 8th century. He was a wizard or sorcerer and played a somewhat important role in Dutch and Belgian folktales because he freed the mythical horse Bayard.
Interestingly, there is also a folktale about another horse which appears at first glance to be entirely unconnected, yet is referred to as either ‘the horse Malegijs’ or ‘the horse of Malegijs’. I suspect the name ‘Malegijs’ was eventually used to refer to wizards or supernatural things in general.
Anyway, the story goes like this: in 1521, three young girls from Ieper (pronounced ‘Ee-pur’) returned from a trip to the local fair. Their names were Maxima Vanden Driessche, Magdalena Ghijselin and Lucia Larmeson. They were neighbours. On the way home, the three girls found a small horse of exceptional beauty. It had smooth white skin with almost no fur, its torso was decorated with flowers, its tail had a beautiful golden colour and on its sides were decorations that resembled green parrots. It was wearing a saddle made from pink damask. An unassuming servant came running and claimed to be the owner of the animal. He asked whether the girls had ever seen anything like it, which they had not, and claimed that the horse was from Japan. According to the servant, the horse would never let itself be ridden by a man but would exclusively carry women. A charming and smooth talker, he eventually managed to convince the three curious girls to ride the horse. Magdalena, the bravest of the three, sat in front. But they soon discovered that they had been tricked, for the horse did not walk at a slow pace like the servant had promised, but ran away at a dizzying speed.
After nightfall, the horse suddenly stopped in front of a large and mysterious castle. Through its windows shone a weirdly bright light and joyous music could be heard from within. The horse – still carrying its frightened riders – entered through the gate, accompanied by the servant who had somehow arrived at the castle. The gates closed behind them. Within the castle, they were greeted by a lord with expensive and exotic clothes, and his entourage of noble ladies. The lord wore a Turkish hat (with a little mirror on it and gemstones at the side) and was dressed in clothes made from damask. He politely invited the three bewildered girls to eat dinner with him.
Afterwards, the girls wanted to return to their homes, for they had travelled a very long distance and it would take a long time to walk back. But the castle lord demanded that they join him in a game of ‘pand’. I do not know what kind of game this was, and I can not find information about it, but we can assume it was some form of gambling game as the girls lost almost all of their belongings to the mysterious man. Clad in their underwear and having lost their jewelry, they were thoroughly humiliated and wished to leave. The man said “now, let us toast to the horse Malegijs, which has brought these three ladies to our castle in such a wondrous manner”. Immediately after speaking these words, the eyes of the castle’s ladies suddenly flashed with a supernatural light. They were each given a glass with an unknown beverage, but only managed to drink a few drops before they suddenly awoke from what appeared to be a dream.
But when they got up and looked around, the three girls found themselves in a hole in the ground, atop the Kemmelberg (a hill in West-Vlaanderen, which is a decent distance from Ieper). Curiously, they were still half naked. And so they wandered around until they found a poor farmer’s house. It was still night but they woke the man and told him their story and asked for clothes and transport. The man believed them, claiming that the Kemmelberg was haunted by a group of witches. Sometimes he could hear their music and see flashing lights. But his wife disagreed: she claimed that these strange girls from Ieper, who showed up in their underwear at night and told such strange tales, were clearly witches themselves and should be burned alive. Her husband tried to grab the girls but they managed to flee.
The girls came upon an inn and told the owner that they were robbed by bandits (they didn’t want to tell the truth, lest the innkeeper accuse them of witchcraft like the farmer had done). The man took pity on them and offered to clothe them and bring them home. As luck would have it, the man was a close friend of Magdalena’s father. He ordered a servant to prepare his carriage and so they left.
But the innkeeper lost his way, which he assumed to be because of witchcraft, as he had travelled that road many times before and knew the roads like the back of his hand. A black shade appeared and floated over the horses, and they ran through fields, rivers and forests without breaking a sweat. But the sun came up and the shadow disappeared, for it had no power during the day.
It was a long way home, but eventually the three girls arrived at their destination.
The moral of this story is clear: girls shouldn’t travel with strange men. But I don’t think this was a very widespread tale since all sources are nearly identical, down to the grammar of the sentences. Thus, I suspect they were all derived from Wodana 1843 (a 1967 magazine about Flemish folklore and mythology) which is cited by my second source here. It was written by professor Karel Peeters, who is also the author of my first source. I am uncertain how old this tale is, but I doubt it’s a medieval story. If I had to guess, I’d say the story was first told in the 19th or 20th century. 
Sources: Peeters, K. C., 1979, Vlaams Sagenboek, Davidsfonds, Leuven. https://www.dekroniekenvandewesthoek.be/malegijs-paardje/ https://www.volksverhalen.be/Ieper_PaardjevanMalegijs https://middelkerke.bibliotheek.be/en/catalog/karel-c-peeters/wodana-1843/book/wise-westvlaanderen_3093016?branch=Middelkerke%2FWestende (image: statuette made by Adhémar Vandroemme)
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