#The Lord is my Shepherd. <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[pinestripe37]

Once was lost, but now I'm Found

✝️Jesus-cember Day 3✝️

(Prompt: Once was lost, but now I'm Found)

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I once was lost But My Gracious God Sent His One Begotten Son to find my soul.

Lord Jesus came to Seek and Save the lost and now I'm found.

You chose to descend into the trench where I had fallen To lift me back Home with You, Sweet Savior God. Down into the deep to lead me out Up to Your Light.

My Lord left the garden, To come cross the desert, To find me in a dry and thirsty land: Where I trusted in man, tried to fend by myself and wilted. I once was blown like chaff in the harsh dusty wind, but God caught me, taught me to trust in Him. I used to be a lost and withered branch Found stranded in a barren foreign land. grafted graciously by God, I've been returned to the True Vine. Where I can heal, the place my leaves turn green and thrive. While I once was withering in the drought Living Water and Your Life poured out Refresh, restore, revive my heart.

Oh I once was lost… But Christ took on the Cross That I may look upon His Grace and see the Way… (…Be Saved.)

You gave up Your Life To take on and bear death; To reach down and bring me from the grave My sin had dug me.

You built a bridge across the chasm With Your own suffering; Then led me all the way across Gently guided with the Hand that bled for me… You never let me fall.

From vast sin that was unforgivable Ransomed in fullness through Your Blood. You paid the Price for my Redemption, in Your Love, In Adam I once was fallen, But in Christ now I am lifted up.

I once was lost but I'm Sought and Saved, Plucked from the grave, Lifted in Grace, Now I'm found.

How blessed I am to be here not there No longer sinking in death's grip or snared. Blind in the dark, Sin had me bound… I once was lost But with God I'm found.

Oh, I once was dying in the darkness, Now I'm living in God's Brilliant Light!

My Father found me midst the bleakness of the blizzard Lost in the coldness of this world, and frozen with rejection From deep snow drifts Christ's Warm Hands dug me out. He doesn't give as this cold world does, He gives Peace. Home in His Grace my rescued heart does thaw.

I once was living just for me, A lifestyle selfish and lonely; But now I'm drawn so close with God's Grace, Set free to walk in Love and fellowship! Embraced my purpose, and I've found: it's joyful. I once was lost, but now on good paths kindly Called.

I once was lost; adrift at sea. Horizons blurred with doubts of life's validity… But One who walks on water came to rescue me. Filled me with Faith, in His Embrace, My purpose is secure.

How often are we lost in darkness, Wandering aimless in the doubt? Where life seems void of meaning; hopeless questions start deceiving Due to blindness and the dark… Despaired, we struggle to get out, Is this gloom not what lostness feels like. Look to the True Light, to be found- Christ rescues all who call to Him You may be lost But you'll be found, The Savior brings us out to light!

I once was drowning in the dark illusion of abyss… In the deep of my despair. Lost in a sea of bitter tears Sin had me tangled and ensnared, it pulled me down. but God found me in my misery, Saw me and came to rescue me. O my Savior You broke each chain, and wiped each tear, and led me through to You.

I once was chained, Too snared to move. But Your Power broke off all iniquity, so I can breathe, I'm finally free To follow You.

You led me out of the dark woods Of the valley of the shadow of death Where I once was lost. Darkness surrounded my wandering form; Impending doom… Loomed. It was my sin that led me here. I left myself with no way home. And yet You left the ninety-nine You saved me just in time, Still called me Yours. I once was lost, But God has always cared.

I once was lost but Christ called me by name; And belonging to the Loving Shepherd I'm Saved, You're the One who Redeemed me.

For I once was like a lost sheep going astray, We've all been lost, every one, in our own way. But when the Lord Himself bore all our sins upon that tree… I have been now returned To the Shepherd, rightful Owner, Overseer of my soul.

As a Shepherd bravely climbs through piercing thorns to reach the sheep Christ wore those thorns to rescue me, a crown of my snares on my King.

Stream of light breaks through brambles; Lord Jesus! I'm found. With strong scarred Hands I'm caught -Caught by my Savior through His Cross!

With loving conviction You remove every briar, every lie. Where thorns of doubt and sin have torn me, You gently bind my wounds with faith In Your Care I'm finally safe. Carried Home in Your Embrace…

On my own I was so so lost But now each step with my Lord I walk. No longer lonely when all the way Your Gracious Spirit gently guides me.

Your rod and staff they comfort me; kept found in loving discipline. My life led out from chilling shadows to the sunlit narrow path. As long as I follow my Shepherd and Savior, I will never be lost again.

I once was lost in barren lands; Now safe and found In my Good Shepherd's Hands.

I once had starved, in scarcity. Restless, dissatisfied, unsure, and empty. But those who come to Christ shall never hunger, Those who believe shall never thirst again. I once ran dry But now my cup is filled to overflowing! I've found I find my Daily Bread in Faithful Hands.

On my own I would have died, But my life is found in Christ.

I once was lost, unseeing through the heavy fog of doubt But graciously, my God has led me out…

He brought me out from cold darkness Into the lovely warmth of Christ the Light.

Darkness once had me blind But Jesus opened my eyes. The beauty of love and of holiness unfolds in front of me… In Your Light I see Light! (Once was blind But now I see)

I once was lost But then I met Jesus He found me in the valley, He's all I've ever needed, …I'm Home. Never to be alone. (And never lost again for my Lord never loses His Own.)

I hear my Lord rejoice Over me with His Love; His treasure He has found. For I was dead and am in Him alive again I was lost and am now found.

Jesus you are Worthy to be praised! You're the only One who truly Saves! I was once dead in my trespasses But now I live in Your Amazing Grace.

I remember wandering on my own, lost and struggling to belong But now I'm His and now I'm Home. Living with my Lord Never alone, Found in His Love, Now I belong. Once wandered homeless But now I'm Home.

No longer lost, With my Gracious God I'm Safe and sound… Forever Found.

[patrickztump]

Finally seen the questions post! How about, 2, 13 (got any current projects?), and 38? =)

ah thank you!! i have a surprise treat for the first one :)

2. show us a picture of your handwriting?

note reads: the brain up there just for decoration, huh?

some people don't like my handwriting because my r's sometimes look like v's, but to them i say: process of elimination. you'll figure it out.

13. what are you doing right now? my current project is a window decal for my friend's dad's car, other than that really no much is going on. i have ideas, but the follow-through.. well that may or may not happen (it's all yard work like re-siding a shed, moving it, leveling the yard, making a garden, it's A Lot lol).

38. fave song at the moment? i've really been listening to a lot of lord huron lately, so it's probably "the yawning grave" at the moment. but "when the night is over" has been in my head for several days now, so that could be a solid second place.

[fadeintoyou1993]

[pinestripe37]

"God makes me lie down in green pastures..." ~Psalm 23

[lumentears]

🔆 ohjoy Follow

okay since I recently found out that me and literally 5 other kids in my choir had a phase where we made serious plans to run away and become a 9th penitent - is this an 8th House thing or are teens just like that

🔆 ohjoy Follow

BONE CULTISTS? ON MY HELLSITE?

✒ blackquill Follow

It's more likely than you think.

♠ homefront-titties-of-the-4th Follow

i was dropping off the kids at the cohort seminar and the 2nd house recruiter saw my wheelchair and asked if I was a veteran ... like aye cap they gave me ms in the war

♠ homefront-titties-of-the-4th Follow

she asked me what front i served at and I said "the big one". she gasped

♠ homefront-titties-of-the-4th Follow

WHEN I CAME BACK TO FETCH THE SQUIRTS SHE HAD A VETERAN'S DISCOUNT STAMP READY FOR ME there were tears in her eyes i swear

🥴 badjokesbyjohn Follow

Why do milking stools only have 3 legs 

Because the cow has the udder.

⚪ the-redeemerrrrrr-deactivated

username checks out man you fell off. tf does that even mean

👅 one-flesh-one-smash Follow

fuck off back to deaddit. john has been trying to get an ARG off the ground for so long, let him cook. That ancient colour of the sky post was a banger

☕ fidelitea Follow

TIL that weird baby blue sky post came from the bad jokes guy

🌸 rigormortis Follow

feeling so aenemic today...

👄 what-that-mouth-of-the-emperor-do Follow

it's the year of our lord 10000, can we leave consumptioncore in the fucking dust where it belongs?! It's not cute, you're not giving Duchess of Rhodes, you're giving none of my friends want to spend time outside with me

🍖 drchuckshingle Follow

some sad news for y'all today. once again two of my shinglers, "pounded in the butt by the realisation that none of us will live to see a time of peace" and its sequel, "pounded in the butt by the realisation that the previous realisation must have occurred to dozens of my ancenstors and still we fight on", have been placed on the eighth house index of heresies. OH WELL! i will continue to write as long as there is one person waiting to read, and that person is ME!

📜 solace-in-thighs Follow

aw shucks that sucks! at least your works are in good company among other works of art on the index (or so i hear)

🩸 saints-alive Follow

dude we can all look up the index. "saint of seduction" "cavaliers off the leash" "pounded in the butt by a chainsmoking saint that remains otherwise unspecified and could belong to any fictional religion"

is that the good company you're speaking off? or are you just sad you can't jerk it to pervert porn anymore

📜 solace-in-thighs Follow

Nice try. Among erotic works, several priceless artifacts with immense cultural and scientific value have been indexed by the Eighth. E.g. the collected letters of General Duodecim to his spouses in the year of 3097, being one of the only firsthand accounts of the establishment of the first shepherd worlds. That's so long ago they still called them colonies! It's from before the divine edict of 4001!

🩸 saints-alive Follow

general duodecim was a weirdo who wrote self insert fanfic about himself getting his guts rearranged by the saint of duty TO HIS SPOUSES

📜 solace-in-thighs Follow

Psychometrists from the Sixth have affirmed the authenticity of the texts again and again. The Saint of Duty fucks nasty and raw, die mad about it <3

🍈 magnus-quinn-big-naturals Follow

I'm sad I can't jerk it to pervert porn anymore :(

💌 do-not-go-gently Follow

the good news: they're letting me go out tonight!

the bad news: it's for my great-uncle's funeral.

the secret good news: I met him twice and those were two times too many. Odious man!

💌 do-not-go-gently Follow

worse news: they've sat me next to Captain Deuteros I hate it here

💌 do-not-go-gently Follow

looooord undying she's talking about the weather. Nice yellow we're having tonight! Lemon, with a hint of cadmium - or is it cadmium with a hint of lemon?

💌 do-not-go-gently Follow

her shuttle journey was uneventful, if you were wondering. heaven forbid she experience two consecutive seconds of excitement.

💌 do-not-go-gently Follow

she saw me using necrumblr under the table and tutted at me. L-O-L!

💌 do-not-go-gently Follow

Maybe I should faint. I haven't fainted in ages!

💌 do-not-go-gently Follow

IMPORTANT UPDATE. The Crown Princess of Ida struck up a conversation with her from across the table and the captain dropped a dumpling into her lap.

💌 do-not-go-gently Follow

it's been five minutes. the Princess is still talking to her and the window in which she could have picked the dumpling up with minimal embarrassment has passed ages ago.

💌 do-not-go-gently Follow

dumplingwatch: it's still there. waiting. cooling. soaking through her trousers.

💌 do-not-go-gently Follow

RIP DUMPLING! The Princess is giving a speech and the captain kicked it under the table. She thinks nobody noticed

💌 do-not-go-gently Follow

WE'RE TALKING ABOUT THE WEATHER AGAIN I NEED THE CANCER TO GET ITS SHIT TOGETHER RIGHT NOW

[wolfythewitch]

●|￣|＿

I need the help of someone autistic about Christianity

Does God ever appear before people like literally, or do they only hear his voice/see a bright light or something/communicate via proxies like jesus

I have no idea what I am doing

- sincerely, a poor uni student who's not even culturally christian (the closest I got to a church sermon was my nana's funeral at 8yo, and they gave us pocket bibles I doodled in during the sermon bc I was bored)

As far as I know, yes and no? there is no physical form of him described. As in, he has appeared to various people to speak to them, but it's never described what he looked like, only that he appeared. And also its said that anyone who has seen him face to face cannot live

13 So she named the Lord who spoke to her, ‘You are El-roi’;[a] for she said, ‘Have I really seen God and remained alive after seeing him?’[b]

This one does mention her actually having seen god, though there are some translation footnotes saying that she saw his back

18 The Lord appeared to Abraham[a] by the oaks[b] of Mamre, as he sat at the entrance of his tent in the heat of the day. 2 He looked up and saw three men standing near him. When he saw them, he ran from the tent entrance to meet them, and bowed down to the ground. 

So in this one, Abraham does immediately recognize him as god (and his angels), but God had taken form of a man

24 Jacob was left alone; and a man wrestled with him until daybreak. 25 When the man saw that he did not prevail against Jacob, he struck him on the hip socket; and Jacob’s hip was put out of joint as he wrestled with him.

28 Then the man[b] said, ‘You shall no longer be called Jacob, but Israel,[c] for you have striven with God and with humans,[d] and have prevailed.’ 29 Then Jacob asked him, ‘Please tell me your name.’ But he said, ‘Why is it that you ask my name?’ And there he blessed him. 30 So Jacob called the place Peniel,[e] saying, ‘For I have seen God face to face, and yet my life is preserved.’

Again, he takes the form of a man

2 There the angel of the Lord appeared to him in a flame of fire out of a bush; he looked, and the bush was blazing, yet it was not consumed. 3 Then Moses said, ‘I must turn aside and look at this great sight, and see why the bush is not burned up.’ 4 When the Lord saw that he had turned aside to see, God called to him out of the bush, ‘Moses, Moses!’ And he said, ‘Here I am.’

Here he appears to Moses as a burning bush. Though, it's not like super clear whether he took form of the burning bush or if it's just like a proxy

22 Then Gideon perceived that it was the angel of the Lord; and Gideon said, ‘Help me, Lord God! For I have seen the angel of the Lord face to face.’ 

This one is probably the most common, but here Gideon meets god through an angel. This also happens to Samson's parents, Mary and Joseph, and the shepherds in the gospel, etc

24 Then King Nebuchadnezzar was astonished and rose up quickly. He said to his counsellors, ‘Was it not three men that we threw bound into the fire?’ They answered the king, ‘True, O king.’ 25 He replied, ‘But I see four men unbound, walking in the middle of the fire, and they are not hurt; and the fourth has the appearance of a god.’[e]

In the footnote, "appearance of a god" can also be translated as "son of a god".

12 and after the earthquake a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire; and after the fire a sound of sheer silence. 13 When Elijah heard it, he wrapped his face in his mantle and went out and stood at the entrance of the cave. Then there came a voice to him that said, ‘What are you doing here, Elijah?’

Here he shows up as a voice to Elijah, and I believe he also does this to Moses? HOWEVER

11 Thus the Lord used to speak to Moses face to face, as one speaks to a friend. Then he would return to the camp; but his young assistant, Joshua son of Nun, would not leave the tent.

This is the only one I can find mentioning speaking face to face. This one is interesting specifically because there are several verses (like Gideon's) mentioning that no one could see God's face and live. And further down the chapter it says this

17 The Lord said to Moses, ‘I will do the very thing that you have asked; for you have found favour in my sight, and I know you by name.’ 18 Moses said, ‘Show me your glory, I pray.’ 19 And he said, ‘I will make all my goodness pass before you, and will proclaim before you the name, “The Lord”;[a] and I will be gracious to whom I will be gracious, and will show mercy on whom I will show mercy. 20 But’, he said, ‘you cannot see my face; for no one shall see me and live.’ 21 And the Lord continued, ‘See, there is a place by me where you shall stand on the rock; 22 and while my glory passes by I will put you in a cleft of the rock, and I will cover you with my hand until I have passed by; 23 then I will take away my hand, and you shall see my back; but my face shall not be seen.’

So I think face to face here more on implies the level of intimacy between the two, as opposed to a literal face to face. The closest people have seen God might have been his back (?)

[pinestripe37]

Through the valley... finding Home

I stare out across the dark valley, Shadowed paths I'd thought end by now, Thought I'd walk into daylight soon. Dismal, I turn to ask: "How long? I'm tired, I want to go home..." But as I gaze up at the Good Shepherd, I see, feel.. His Grace is warm. Rod and staff steadfast still in His Hand, those that comfort me as He leads faithfully. (Whenever I feel lost I know following Him's the Way home.) His Kind Face, as always, as ever, in radiance unfading glows beautifully. My Lord is life's Light forever, His Love shining clear even here. God's Presence goes with me, He gives me rest; I know in my weakness Jesus cares. Rejoice in relief: God is near. I realize, carried through this cold valley In trials but never alone, At Christ's side that bled just to Save me I'm kept and already Home. Oh, my Shepherd is my Warm Home And He holds me through every storm. God's With Me through it all And my Home is Emmanuel.

[cece693]

THOSE 4 TERRIFYING WORDS

pairing: steve rogers x male reader synopsis: 'We need to talk' is a universal line delivered when one wants to break up. Everyone knew this, even Steve (a man from the 40s). Not wanting to lose the one person he loves, Steve is determined to show you why that's a bad idea.

You’d only said four ordinary words—“we need to talk”—but the moment they left your mouth, Steve Rogers went sheet-white, like you’d just handed him divorce papers wrapped in vibranium foil. You don’t notice the storm gathering behind his eyes—you’re already stepping into the corridor—but Steve hears the click of the latch and decides two things simultaneously:

You won’t have time to second-guess the relationship if he eliminates every reason you could possibly be unhappy.

He absolutely will not let you finish a sentence that starts with “we need to talk.”

He tugs on a Henley you once said makes his shoulders look “bite-worthy,” slicks his hair into a movie-poster wave, and cooks you dinner. Not just any dinner—lasagna with homemade pasta sheets, because apparently pasta rollers are what Amazon Prime is for when you’re catastrophizing at 3 p.m.

You walk in still dusted with rooftop grit, and the smell of basil hits you first. Then Steve appears holding a casserole dish like it’s Mjölnir, blue eyes shining with equal parts hope and mortal terror. “Uh… hi?” you say, eyebrow cocked.

“Welcome home, sweetheart.” He kisses your cheek, voice syrup-sweet. “Take a hot shower, get comfy. Everything’s taken care of.”

You blink. “We—”

“Later.” He flashes a smile so earnest it almost creaks. “Want you relaxed before we…talk.”

The evening gets even weirder.

Steve insists you sit while he serves you a borderline-Michelin meal, refusing to let you lift a finger. He even tells FRIDAY to dim the lights to a “romantic yet conversation-friendly” 30 percent. When you reach for the Parmesan, he’s already there, grating like a man possessed.

After dessert (tiramisu, made from scratch, obviously), he shepherds you to the couch and gently sets your legs over his lap. The television flicks on: your favorite comfort show. He pretends not to notice the way you stare at him as though he’s sprouted antlers.

Twenty minutes later he turns off the TV, swallows hard, and speaks fast—as if the words are grenades he can’t afford to drop.

“I know I mess up sometimes. But if you ever feel unfulfilled”—he gestures vaguely southward, blush blooming—“I’m open to newer arrangements.” He forces his gaze up to yours, all courage and heartbreak. “If you wanted to invite someone else in, or just explore without me, we'll do it.”

Silence.

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Steve, what—”

“I can be whatever you need,” he barrels on. “If you want to call the shots in bed—” (You arch a brow; he forges ahead) “—I’m happy to let you lead. In fact, I like it. Thought maybe you didn’t know that.”

Oh. Oh. The puzzle pieces click together: extraordinary dinner, foot rub, open-relationship clause, sudden enthusiasm for being your prettiest bottom. All because you said we need to talk.

A laugh—half love, half exasperation—bubbles out of you. Steve’s face falls; he thinks you’re laughing at him.

“Steve, sweetheart, no.” You cup his cheek. “I’m laughing at myself for not realizing how that sentence hit your 1940s anxiety circuits.” You press a kiss to his forehead. “I’m not dumping you. I wouldn't even dream of doing so.”

He blinks. “You’re not?”

“I just wanted to talk about adopting Lucky from Clint—you know, the pizza dog? We need a proper plan before we bring home a Labrador with a carb addiction.”

Beat. Steve’s mouth opens, closes, opens again. A laugh bursts from him, bright and shaky, and he folds forward till his forehead rests against your sternum.

“Lord, I’m an idiot.”

“My big, handsome idiot,” you correct, threading fingers through his hair. You maneuver him so he’s sitting between your thighs, broad shoulders bracketed by yours—a posture that says I’ve got you. Fingers slide under his chin, tilting his face up.

“Listen carefully, Rogers. I’m satisfied. I’m crazy about you—your dad-joke smile, your post-mission baby-blue hoodies, the way you still thank café baristas like they just saved the world.” Your thumb strokes his lower lip. “And yeah, I like being in charge sometimes. But I never doubted that you’d let me.”

His cheeks go rosy. “It’s not that I let you—”

“I know.” Your grin turns wicked. “You love it.”

He shivers. “Maybe a little bit.”

“There’s the honesty I wanted.” You lean down, kiss him slow, claiming. His lips part on a soft gasp, surrendering with the effortless grace of a man who could flip a truck but would rather melt under your touch. When you break for air, he’s gazing up like you hung the moon.

“So,” you whisper near his ear, “about Lucky: do you accept dog-dad duty?”

He nods emphatically. “I’ll sew him a shield-shaped collar.”

“Overachiever,” you tease. “Now, since you’ve already cooked and declared me king of the bedroom—”

“Forever,” he murmurs.

“—I think it’s time to show you how much your efforts are appreciated. Upstairs. March.”

His breathing stutters; then the soldier surfaces just long enough to obey a direct order. He stands, but you snag his belt loop, tug him back for a final reminder. “Next time I say we need to talk, assume I mean something mundane and ask before spiraling, okay?”

“Yes, sir.” His answering smile holds relief, devotion, and a glint of anticipation.

[meelkiewee]

Washed up and ready for tumblr

sadly, i'm in a bit of an artblock/burnout so i'm kinda procrastinating on some projects by doing other stuff like this eefo character design... sigh

[pls reblog, don't like]

⬇️ my choices explained under the cut

INTRO

i'll start by saying that this character design was brought to life with my kinda limited knowledge of etho and my absolute passion for heavily redesigning characters and giving them my own twist.

THE MASK AND THE MASK's MASK

the first image that came to my mind was his mask. i knew i wanted something to cover almost all his face and for it to be wolf inspired. i still wanted it to reference his skin in some way though, so i added the little metallic plate and the black forehead ribbon as the way the mask holds up.

underneath his main mask i put another simpler black mask that mainly serves 3 purposes: it makes the wolf mask more comfortable to wear without too much metal to skin contact, it mantains the face covered in case the other falls off and... guys i remember i saw a clip of hermits asking him to take off the overlay of his skin to see his face but there was a second mask underneath. i don't make the rules.

CONCEAL DON'T FEEL

after that i slowly worked up a little bit of context in my head while i was adding more details and making my choices. so what i did was making a collage of the infos i collected over time about him and his character and sprinkle a little bit of kakashiki (-cit tango) visual elements.

as we all know etho is a brilliant redstoner and a guy who really cares about privacy. put that together and you get the lore i made up for him:

with his advanced irl tech knowledge, he found a way to transfer his soul in minecraft, kinda like SAO works, and has to conceal his appearance to not get caught. here comes the layered clothes, the enormous coat and ofc the masks. due to all of this i also headcanon him preferring to live in the colder biomes, and this ties back also to the fact that he's from canada ykyk.

AWOO BUT NOT TOO MUCH

i really like wolfie etho designs i saw going around but i didn't want to design another ren with a different palette (my ren is a anthro german shepherd) so i channeled the wolf energy in the mask, the thick fur of the coat that ends with a tail (inspired by marcille dungeon lord outfit, a few notice but her dress has a tail) and in his hair, also kinda looking like a tail.

TYPE: VIBES

the eye of the wolf mask being red and scarred (for life) is of course inspired by his kakashi skin. i sprinkled red tassels here and there to fill in the spots and mainly cause i personally love tassels and wanted to add some red accents for redstone.

his kinda slouchy posture is totally for vibes, etho comes across to me as this kinda lazy/chill guy that channels the energies he has into thinking about the redstone he gotta do and calls it a day. i tried to channel that also in the kinda generic plain clothes.

for the vibes i wanted to put him in crocs/flip flops too but i couldn't otherwise he would absolutely freeze. i had to give him some warm boots or whatevs *sigh*

i tried to make his single visible eye as cute and puppy-looking as possible 'cause c'mon he a cutie pie okay? for the mole near the eye, guys i literally can't recall where i got this piece of info and if it's even remotely true but, i read/heard somewhere he has a bunch of moles on his face irl??? idk idk this is so random, i'm sorry.

SO YEAH

this is the end of my long long explanation for this character design. i hope you like it and if you don't, i know my bestie likes it (he's a bit of an ethogirlie lol luv ya bestie <3)

the end, thanks a lot for reading!

[red-garden]

Shen Qingqiu finally feeling tired enough to collapse and fall asleep in his own peak rather than getting rest at the brothels.

Unfortunately what he didn't know is that apparently he sleeps walk.

His unconscious self made its way towards safety, and where was safety in Cang Qiong?

In Yue Qis arms of course. Anyways because he's sleep walking and yknow can't really tell where he is.

He ends up waking up in the middle of Bai Zhan peak. Confused makes his way back to Qing Jing once Liu Qingge kicks him out.

The next night it happens again, this time he woke up in An Ding.

By this point he thinks he's being pranked by someone and installs a bunch of talismans on his house to prevent anyone from going in.

However because he's still tired, because his sleeping didn't bring much rest just walking.

It happened again, and again and again.

Waking up at a different peak each time.

Medical assistance was offered to him when he awoke at Qian Cao but he refused, still believing that someone was moving him around rather than it being himself aimlessly walking around Cang Qiong.

Finally, in the next night he reaches his unconscious goal of finding Yue Qingyuan.

By now Yue Qingyuan is well aware of Shen Qingqius sleep walking habit and went to Qing Jing himself to make sure he stayed in bed for the night and rested.

(Shen jiu unconsciously yearning for safety my beloved <3)

CACKLING AND KICKING MY FEET, IMAGINE HIM WAKING UP FACE DOWN IN A BUSH COVERED IN STICKY NOTES AND A MUSTACHE DRAWN ON HIS FACE 😭😭😭

It becomes like a test of valor for disciples “can you put this note on the Qing Jing peak lord before he wakes up?” A few fingers have been lost.

It’s official peak policy that the Qing Jing peak lord does not sleep walk, and if you see him stumbling around at night, it is because of sword wizard reasons. He receiving visions or something.

When he runs into a sympathetic peak lord they shepherd him back home and lock the doors. This is rarely that useful, he just gets out again. After several occasions of YQY finding him, YQY starts to stay by his bedside to make sure he stays there. Those are the nights he sleeps the best.

[pinestripe37]

To realize that Jesus holds us like this... 🥺 Vulnerable and weak but held in God's Mighty Hands never to be plucked away, where nothing can separate us from His Perfect Love.

What a blessing to be safely softly and lovingly held by the Good Shepherd forever! 🤍 I need to remember to thank Jesus for always holding me in His Mercy!

@ghosts-and-blue-sweaters Grace I feel like you will love this post so here you go my sweet sister in Christ <33

[covenofagatha]

hey soooooo if your requests are still open... what do you think about a pt. 3 with Father Agatha where she fucks reader on the altar with her strap (the church is empty)... like... and Agatha has reader recite the Rosary, and for every mystery completed reader gets an orgasm... and maybe Agatha has like a breeding kink sort of and says she wants to make reader the next virgin mary...

obviously if you want and feel comfortable with all this, i really truly love all your stories!!

Hooooooly shit this was insane i immediately had to write this

also the rosary is so long 😩

Forgive me, Father (part 3)

What the request said lol

Word count: 3200

Warnings: light bondage, religious sex, altar sex, fingering, oral, strap on, cum lube, breeding kink, spanking, dubcon, priest agatha is so corrupt, naive reader, think this is it

The next time you go to confession, you don’t even make it into the booth before Father Agatha intercepts you, almost like she’s been waiting. 

“Come back for more, angel?” She asks, sitting in a pew, facing the altar. You almost walked right by her without noticing. 

You look around the rest of the church. There’s no one else in sight. She taps the spot on the bench next to her and you sit. 

Just the close proximity makes your heart beat faster. 

“What are you doing here?” You ask. 

Father Agatha shrugs. “I like to sit in here when it’s empty and pray. Helps me connect with God, I can hear him better.” 

You frown and try to quiet your thoughts and your breathing to see if you can hear anything. “What is God saying right now?” If you had looked closer, you would’ve seen the smirk on her lips as you played right into her trap before she reset her face.

“Nothing good,” she sighs heavily and your eyes widen in fear. “Do you remember the Annunciation?” 

“Of course,” you answer with a nod. “When the angel Gabriel came down and told Mary that she was pregnant with Jesus because she had found favor with God.” You had strived to live a life as pure as Mary had, and thanks to Father Agatha, you feel like you’re on the right path.

She gives you a wry smile, her eyes still racked with seriousness. “And do you remember why God sent his only son down to us?” 

“To save us from sin,” you say immediately. The most noble sacrifice anyone could make. 

“And it worked for a while,” Father Agatha says sadly. “But now sin is running rampant again. However, God has an idea for how to stop it.” 

Your mouth falls open a little. You had no idea it was getting that bad out in the world. You make it your mission to help the priest, no matter what it takes. “What does He need? What can we do?” 

“Another vessel, for another child. A pure of heart maiden, just like Mary was,” she says, finally meeting your eyes. Your heart skips a beat. 

“Me? Carry God’s child? But–” 

She cuts you off. “Proverbs 3:5 says, ‘Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding.’ I know it may be scary, angel, but I am here to help. I will shepherd the child unto you, if you so wish to help God in this way.” 

You think for a moment, weighing your options. It has always been a dream to be a true steward of the Lord, and everyone has to do their part. You remember a verse from Psalms. “The Lord is my strength and my shield; in him my heart trusts, and I am helped; my heart exults, and with my song I give thanks to him,” you recite and Agatha smiles, very pleased. 

She stands up, brushing past you and walking up the stairs to the altar. You follow her. 

“How is this going to work?” You question. The Bible doesn’t go into specifics with Mary.

“Patience, angel,” Father Agatha says, pulling out the bread and wine of Christ for Communion and a rosary. “There are many things we will need to do in order to get you ready to take the child.” 

She holds up the wafer and you bow, holding out your hands. She doesn’t move, just raises an eyebrow. You stand there for a second, dumbfounded. 

“What are other ways you can take Communion?” She says, glancing down to the floor. A light clicks in your head and, for the third time in front of her, you drop to your knees. 

This time, you open your mouth and stick out your tongue, and she places the bread on it, holding eye contact. Her gaze burns into you and you can’t help but feel that same heat you always do with her. Once you swallow, she presses the chalice of wine to your lips and you let her pour some down your throat. 

The air is so charged around the two of you and you wonder if this is part of the ceremony. 

“Stand up,” she orders and you shoot to your feet. She flips you around and lifts you up so you’re sitting on the altar and you gasp. 

“I can’t be on this,” you protest but she shushes you. 

“It’s okay, angel,” she says soothingly, hands coming to rub your thighs. Her touch feels good and it momentarily makes you forget about your qualms. “God will allow it since he knows the burden you’re about to bear. Now, do you remember that special toy I used on you last time?” 

You nod, feeling the wetness in your underwear grow as you think back to that memory. The way it felt so big, the way it stretched you out, the way it felt when you orgasmed over it. 

Father Agatha is wearing pants today, you notice for the first time, and she unzips them to pull something out. 

Unlike the one from last time, which was purple, this one is skin colored and has two round things on the bottom. She squeezes the globes under the toy and a dribble of white liquid comes out from the tip. 

“What is that?” You ask in awe. You wonder what it would taste like. 

She swipes at the bead of moisture and holds it up so you can get a better look. “This is a different type of tool, one that can hold cum.” She says the new word slowly so you can remember it. “This is what’s going to go inside your little pussy, this is what’s going to fill you up with the new child of Christ.” 

For some reason, the thought of having the cum inside you makes you grow even hotter. “Okay,” you say earnestly. She chuckles at how ready you are. 

“Not quite yet, angel. Remember how we had to work up to it last time? We will need to do the same. But don’t fret. I’ll make it just as enjoyable.” 

She takes the rosary off the altar next to you and waits for you to hold out your arms. Instead of wrapping them around your hands the right way, she twists them around your wrists so you can’t move. A flare involuntarily courses through you at the thought of being bound. 

“Now, be a good girl, and complete your rosary. For each mystery, you’ll get a reward,” she says with a wink, and pulls you closer to the edge of the altar. You watch what she’s doing with bated breath and she bends down so her face is just a breath away from your pussy. 

She pushes up your skirt and slides your underwear to the side, and when her finger slides through your folds, you make the sign of the cross. 

“I believe in God, the Father Almighty,” you begin with the Apostles’ creed. When you get to the Our Father, the memory of you saying this while her fingers were warming you up last time hits you like a train. She finds your clit easily and rubs it, your voice jumping up an octave. 

You make it through that prayer and the three Hail Mary’s with little trouble while she continues just stroking up and down your pussy, feeling it get wetter under her fingertips. 

The Glory Be and the Fatima prayer also come out smoothly as Father Agatha is only teasing. 

You announce the first mystery, Annunciation, and you’re saying the Our Father again when she suddenly slides a finger into you, grinning at the way you gasp and tighten around it. 

She pumps it in and out lazily while you stutter through the rest of the prayer and then she pulls out. You feel empty and she tugs you off the altar and spins you around so that your ribs are pressing into it and your elbows rest on top, hands still tied tightly together by the chain.

This time, she tugs your skirt and underwear off and the cool church air makes you shiver. She grabs your buttcheeks and you gasp. 

“Did your parents spank you when you were a child?” She asks and for some reason, you feel yourself get even wetter at the promise her words hold. 

You nod. “Yes,” you whisper. 

“Do not withhold discipline from a child; if you strike him with a rod, he will not die. If you strike him with a rod, you will save his soul from Sheol,” she quotes. “We need to make sure your body is completely cleansed. You have ten Hail Mary’s, so for each one, I’ll give you a spank.” 

Your breath comes out in stutters and you feel like you’re about to pass out from overheating. The ache inside you is only getting worse. 

“Hail Mary, full of grace, the lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb Jesus. Holy Mary, mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death, Amen.” 

She slaps you before you even have the time to brace yourself. 

The sound echoes throughout the empty church and you clasp your hands so hard that your knuckles turn white. 

“Hail Mary, full of grace,” you say again, eyes rolling to look up at the ceiling like you’re talking straight to God. 

Another spank. This time, your body rocks forward against the altar and it knocks the wind out of your lungs. 

“Hail Mary…” 

Spank. 

“Hail Mary…” 

Spank. 

“Hail Mary…”

Spank. 

“Hail Mary…” 

Spank. 

“Hail Mary…” 

Spank.

You still have three more to go and you’re a mess. 

The wetness between your legs has grown to a flood and is dripping down your legs. Your butt stings and the cold air works to soothe it, but every time you get a semblance of a relief, she hits you again. 

“Hail…Mary…” You take your time on the eighth, dragging it out over a minute to give yourself some time to breathe and recover. She chuckles evilly, rubbing your butt. 

Spank. 

On the ninth time, it doesn’t even feel like you’re saying real words anymore and you can barely register the pain anymore. 

Spank. 

When you finally choke out the tenth one, she hits both of your cheeks as hard as she can at the same time and you groan loudly. 

“Father Agatha,” you whimper and she soothes the aches with her palms. 

“You did so well, angel, so perfect for me. I promise that you are completely purified now and ready for pleasure. But before we get to that, let’s say the Glory Be and the Fatima prayer together.” 

She turns you around so you lock eyes with the priest and chant the two prayers and then you announce the second mystery, the Visitation, and start the Our Father. Father Agatha watches with a fond smile on your face and as you’re still speaking, she nudges your feet apart so your stance is wider. 

When you begin the ten Hail Mary’s again, she reaches down and slides two fingers inside you with no resistance at all because of how wet you are. 

You momentarily stop talking and the priest moans. 

“You’re so wet and warm around me, angel,” she mumbles quietly and you wish your hands weren’t tied together so you could reach out and touch her. 

You resume the prayer and she picks up her pace, twisting and curling, and your recitation is broken up with small gasps and whimpers. Instinctually, you raise your leg up and rest it around her and she chuckles. 

It was clearly the right thing to do because her fingers can somehow get deeper inside you and your head falls back. You’re clenching tighter and you’re getting close as you keep spitting out the words, having been on the edge for awhile since her spanking. 

“Ah ah,” she tuts, slowing down for a second. “You have four more. No orgasm until then.” You whine, pleading with your eyes, but she just smirks and raises a brow, waiting for you to continue. 

You say the words so fast it sounds like you’re auctioning off your soul to the highest bidder. 

And Father Agatha, of course, has won. 

She finally strokes your clit when you finish the tenth and you spasm all over her two fingers, hands pulling so tightly against the rosary that you think you might have indents tomorrow. 

She gently moves her fingers in and out while you finish up the second mystery with the Glory Be and the Fatima Prayer. 

When you’re announcing the third mystery, the Birth of Our Lord, she sinks down to her knees in front of you and you forget to speak. 

You shake your head, trying to figure out what she’s doing, when she lifts a leg up over her shoulder and leans close to your pussy to blow on it. 

Your hips jump and you almost fall, and she helps you rest your back against the altar for balance. 

“What are you doing?” You say in a hushed voice. 

“Say the prayers,” she orders and sucks gentle kisses into your inner thighs. Her mouth on that extremely sensitive place makes you keen as you start to say the Our Father again. But when you begin on the Hail Mary’s, her tongue slides through your folds and it’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before. 

A loud moan claws its way out of your throat and you manage to loosen the rosary around your wrists just enough so you can entangle your hands in her hair. You had no idea that someone could put their mouth on that part of you, but you want Father Agatha to stay there forever. 

She stops and nips at your thigh as a warning to keep going. It is so hard to keep your mind from completely blanking on the words with her hot tongue swirling your clit the way it is, but you somehow manage to make it through four quickly. 

You buck your hips without any sort of rhythm against her face, gasping out the words to the prayer. Her tongue dips into your pussy and strokes against your walls and you think you might die and ascend before God can put his baby in you. 

Like the last time, it’s clear that she won’t let you orgasm unless you finish the mystery, so you speed through again, pretty sure you miss chunks of the prayer at a time. 

Finally, you get to the tenth one, and when you’re almost done, she slides three fingers into you, curls them, and sucks on your clit roughly. 

You orgasm, absolutely drenching her face and fingers again. 

She moves your leg down and stands up, smearing her fingers across your face. 

“How was that?” She asks, smirking. 

“Oh my gosh, I didn’t even know something could feel that good,” you gush. 

And then she grabs the toy and drags it through your folds and you second guess that when she circles your clit with the tip. She presses down lightly and the pressure makes you squirm. 

“Are you ready for me to fill you up?” 

Your heart leaps, but really, you’d do anything to have her inside you again. Two orgasms hasn’t been enough to satiate you and you want to know what it’s like for her cum to be inside you. 

“Please, Father, fill me up.” The words sound dirty falling from your mouth but she just grins and flips you back around, putting you back into the same position as earlier. 

“Fourth mystery,” she demands and your head falls forward onto your chained arms as she pushes the tip in. Even though you are wet and stretched out, there’s still a slight burn. 

The Presentation. You announce it and say the Our Father while she ruts in and out of you, never going in further than the tip. 

You start on the Hail Mary’s and it takes her the entire first one to slide the entire way in. Your voice sounds strangled as you keep talking and she slowly starts to grind into you. 

When you get to the third one, she stops being gentle and begins roughly thrusting, your rips slamming against the altar again and again. She reaches a hand around to rub at your clit and you clench tightly on the toy. 

Father Agatha starts saying things while you keep reciting your prayers and she’s just loud enough to hear over your words. 

“Angel, you’re so perfect, stretched around my cock like this, can’t wait to fill you up, to breed you, watch my cum drip out of you, God you’re taking me so well, need to do this every day, can’t wait to breed you.” 

You don’t really know what she means when she says she wants to breed you, but just based on the way she sounds when she says it, like it’s making her feel as hot as you do, makes you even more wet. 

At this point, you don’t even know if you’re saying the right prayer but things just keep spilling out of your mouth and you go with it. You don’t know how many you’ve said or how many you have left, all you can think about is Father Agatha. 

“You’re so close, angel, just one more and then I’ll make you into the next Virgin Mary with my cum,” she grunts into your ear and you gasp out the words. 

“Amen,” you finally pant out, and you can feel her hand brush past you as she reaches down between her own legs, and the next thing you know, a warmth spreads through you. It triggers your own orgasm, feeling your walls being painted with her cum, and she gently thrusts in and out while you seize around her. “Did it work?” You ask weakly. 

Father Agatha strokes your hair as she says the Glory Be and the Fatima prayer herself. You realize that you forgot to say those after your second orgasm, but you can’t find it in you to care. Since you’re carrying God’s child, you don’t think He will either. 

“I’m going to stay inside you like this to keep the cum in while you say the fifth mystery. It’s called cockwarming. This way, we can try to let it take hold.” 

You nod and begin on the Finding in the Temple. Since she isn’t moving, you aren’t constantly distracted and you’re able to get through the Hail Mary’s without too much of a hassle, although the feeling of being full still is forefront on your mind. 

When you finish the rosary, she pulls out, turns you to face her, and you gasp at the feeling of her cum oozing out of you. 

“But, it was supposed to stay inside me!” You cry, watching in horror as it leaks out and down your legs. 

Father Agatha frowns and collects it with her fingers. “Something must have gone wrong,” she says and then looks up to meet your eyes. “Guess we’ll just have to try again.” 

[heartsings77]

Psalm 23 ESV 1 The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. 2     He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters. 3     He restores my soul. He leads me in paths of righteousness     for his name's sake.

4 Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me;     your rod and your staff,     they comfort me.

5 You prepare a table before me     in the presence of my enemies; you anoint my head with oil;     my cup overflows. 6 Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me     all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord     forever.

[jesuschristisgod]

23 The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.

2 He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters.

3 He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.

4 Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.

5 Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.

6 Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.

[pinestripe37]

Amen! <333 ✝️

“I am the light of the world. He who follows Me shall not walk in darkness, but have the light of life.” ~Jesus' Words in John 8:12

“I am the bread of life. He who comes to Me shall never hunger, and he who believes in Me shall never thirst.” ~Jesus' Words in John 6:35

“I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd gives His life for the sheep.” ~Jesus' Words in John 10:11

Three of my favorite Scriptures; so so beautiful, delighting in the Blessing of Who He Is. 🙏

Jesus is the light of this dark world, the living bread for empty souls, and the good shepherd for His sheep.

Steven Lawson

[goth-mami-writer]

¤ Sweet, Silver Affliction ¤ (Pt.3)

▪︎ King Baldwin IV x f!Reader arranged marriage au

《 Later that night, you wanted to clear your mind and a sudden idea led you to the Citadel gardens. You needed silence and fresh air to ease you through many thoughts of meeting the king for the first time- how he looked at you and how he made you feel just by one meeting. You wanted nothing more than his company in these hours following, even his silence so punishing when his eyes were on you in silence. But his sudden exit from your chamber without a word, struck you.

You hung your afghan blanket from home around you before leaving, still not yet adjusting to the colder climate and you walked, barefooted in your thin night slip towards the open inner ward. One thing you did adore of Jerusalem so far, was its lush greenery that made you take notice once you reached the tall stone arches of the gardens. Flowers bloomed more fragrant here, they didn't perish after taking bud like at home.

The pathways under your feet were lit by small burning sconces on the castle walls nearby and you wandered through the many blooms and shrubbery that caught your eye in the moonlight. The city sounded quiet in the night. From beyond the walls, you only heard soft bleats and cries from a shepherd's flock. Occasionally the song of a sparrow overhead.

Without your knowledge, the King had stepped out onto his own private balcony that overhung The Citadel gardens where you stood. His chamber being placed so intentionally by the castle maesters who swore to his majesty that all blooms in the holy land held medicinal value. Baldwin wanted to clear his mind the same as you, not finding solace with words being left unsaid between you.

His eyes focused heavily when they turned upon you there underneath the overhang. You clutched your thick afghan while putting your nose to a wild peony, a flower that could never survive where you were from, and Baldwin softly smiled beneath his mask. He almost thought of reprimanding his guards for not being with you, but…now he preferred it that you were alone.

You felt eyes upon you somehow, and you turned, nearly jumping at the sight of the King's mask having found you yet again. You weren't sure whether to smile since he'd left you on uneasy terms earlier in the night but you did give him your attention by softly padding closer, hearing your golden anklet chiming to your skin in cadence.

You stood just below his balcony, looking up with your chin tilted slightly to face him. His linen wimple fell from his shoulder as the moonlight caught him and you heard as he said, seeming to be delicate yet again with you,

“I hope you can pardon…my abrupt departure.”

You smiled now, nodding to accept what sounded to be an apology but you didn't care.

“I can-” You told him with your head still raised, staring now a little more unashamedly at his masked veneer which made him ask somewhat smirkingly.

“You look to me as if I'm a mystery. What keeps your stare?”

“You are a mystery to me, my lord.” You said thoughtlessly, finding it easier for the first time to tell your thoughts as they came, giving little contemplation to how they would sound.

He thought of what to do next. He had already confessed to himself that he thought of you romantically. Something that took hours of prayer and reflection. But he'd never pursued romance. It felt foreign just like a tongue of which he did not speak and would stutter to attempt.

He found a pale bloom at his balcony side upon a vine and made the only real gesture of courtship he'd ever known when his gloved hand reached down to toss it into your direction.

You caught the small blossom into your palms, brushing the soft petals before bringing it to your nose. He found another soft smile to your down turned eyes that viewed the sentiment somewhat exactly the way he intended, and he said, feeling as if he was running out of chances when your eyes met again.

“Come to me.”

You nodded and traipsed back to the side entrance of the castle where you found guards at his door. They both shared a glance and the king pulled the sheer curtain aligning the entry to his bed chambers and ushered you inside.

Before turning his back, he made a small acknowledgment of how exactly this appeared to others. A princess, his wife no less, meeting him in his chambers in the dark of the night in small clothes only protected by a blanket. He couldn't deny that their assumptions…could be made right, and with only a soft mention, he commanded them both softly,

“Take ten paces forward.”

He needed space from their ears and the emptiness of his room which always stayed quiet. But..upon his marriage, even with uncertainty of his abilities, that was subject to change.

He watched them take their paces and he returned to his chambers where he found you in the candle light, admiring one of his Syrian tapestries collected from afar. You were so curious and he couldn't help but admire it, but he knew it'd also cost him expensively in the future seeing just how much of an enigma he really was.

You watched the king return his presence to the room and you faced him in a turn, remembering to stop yourself from bowing. The clouds of lingering frankincense rolled around him when he stood before you again as your eyes met.

He then watched your gaze steady, the stare that made his heart swell with emotion he had not prepared for and her said to you with his weary voice humming between you,

“Your eyes say that I own the world. Do you think that true?”

His voice lowering to a tone that you found sultry, somehow alluring, even as you knew it wasn't intentional, made your knees tremble. There was a flush growing in your cheeks and you told him, trying not to stammer like a fool,

“Idolatry…is a sin, my king.” You spoke, feeling as though your hands clutching your afghan around you were lessening in their shaking grip.

“No one is without sin, angel.” He told you, making you shudder to hear the first affectionate nickname come from his lips.

You felt his hands rise and when they met the top of your afghan at your shoulders, you knew what he meant to do. He wanted to see more of you. Or perhaps free your hands from clutching your blanket so closely. You were nervous to determine which one but you allowed your afghan down your shoulders, freeing it to the armchair beside you and the king took your hands.

You noticed his left palm to be entirely wrapped in burlapped bandage, unlike his right that was only clothed in a glove to protect his skin. He saw your eyes discovering one of his many insecurities and he tried to fight the pit in his stomach that would make him turn away in disgust of his own image.

He remarked carefully, not wanting to sound flippant but he had to make you understand what he was feeling when those curious eyes of your tried to discover more of him,

“Princess…you know that I can never touch you with my bare hands, don't you?”

“My Lord-” you said, hoping he wouldn't think you were one to argue,

“I'm not afraid. I have nothing to fear…not anymore. I want you to be…comfortable with me.”

“I will never be comfortable with you, Princess.” he said shortly, hating the fact that he would have to put an end to this so quickly. Though truly, he never thought to have the discussion so early.

“It is not…something you should feel that you need to attain with honor. I…will never be comfortable to show my face, my body- ever. You are as kind as you are beautiful…but revealing to you the extent of my misery and plague…is not something I will give you sight of.”

You felt moved with more bravery after hearing his true feelings of showing himself and all that lie behind his disguise. It was unclear in your mind if it was the unspoken attraction or just your stubborn demeanor that clawed the earth when faced with challenge. But you had to tell him without flimsy words so heavily guarded by the language barrier.

Your hands rose and he seemed almost welcoming when they began to near towards his mask. He watched you intently, wanting to know from your eyes the depths of your motives by touching him in such loud, breaking silence.

You leaned closer, hoping your heart wouldn't stop before performing such a stunt that you were sure to never imagine twice after tonight and you brought your face closer to his mask where gently you pressed your lips against the cold formation of his silver mouth.

The king gasped from underneath and his body shook to feel a kiss even if stopped by his very mask. He dared with all of his might and he too pressed into a kiss broken by the molded silver between you. It couldn't have meant much, but the sentiment inside felt to have rocked him to his core. It was a kiss- small and menial, separated by his mask nonetheless, but he was kissing you.

During your embrace, one that was making your bones shudder to feel the king lean in eagerly, you then felt him stumble backwards with a sudden grasp to his nearby desk to balance himself. He hated that he broke the tender moment but his face felt so flush that it was impossible for his fragility to keep up with a moment that needed so much strength.

“My Lord-” You gasped, taking him in a pull towards you to keep him from falling and he held your head as he cradled you against him, not wanting you to know that in fact he was steadying himself by your strength.

“I'm alright-” Baldwin said with a huff in his tired voice.

You urged him to sit, helping him along the way whether he wished you to or not and he said while carefully treading over to the end of his grand bedside,

“You mustn't doubt that you leave me breathless now, Princess.”

You smiled to his sweet sentiment but something came to his mind after that moment of sharing the first known kiss between you. His mask tilted up as he caught his breath and his focus went to the many hanging candelabras in his chamber, along with lit sconces along the wall but his eyes then went to the window.

He began to stand, knowing now what he wanted and felt destined to help him after seeing him nearly lose his stance over one kiss on his mask.

“Let me help you, My King.”

“Close the shutters on the window there. Shut the balcony doors. I'll…put out these candles.”

You didn't know what he was preparing for but you were quick to do as he asked. You looked over your shoulder to watch as he placed a golden snuffing rod upon each of the burning wicks, the numerous flames one by one faltering to smoke in the air.

Once the doors and windows were closed, and the room was much darker besides one lone ray of light that cast through the room's center, you heard him call you forward.

“Come here, angel. Straight ahead of you.” He said guiding you in the dark with his lowered voice being your only beacon through the pitch black.

You softly padded, feeling through the dark with your arms touching ahead of you until you felt him. His gloved hands took yours and he carefully pulled you into an embrace where your palms were laid to his shoulders while his own hands found your waist.

Inside your chest, your heart beat wickedly to be touching him so intimate but you wanted more. You wanted to be closer and have his hands travel further with another kiss placed on your lips. Even if it was his mask, you knew he liked it, and you liked it as well.

You felt that the dark was hiding you from the light of what would need to be looked down upon tomorrow and you felt the bravery in your stomach burning hotter.

As the gap grew smaller between you, the King took your hands upon his shoulders and placed them up towards the sides of his masked face. You felt him press your fingertips and palms into the curve of his mouth. His cold masked lips pressed to your skin in delight with his gloved hands petting your knuckles in the embrace that was already parting your mouth in want.

Slowly, he then placed both your hands on the sides of his face, curling your fingers around the edges that were tucked to his regal linen wimple and he said to you in the darkness where your eyes sought for one trace of his shadow.

“I need you to close your eyes. Do it for me-” he said breathless, his voice shuddering beneath broken drags of air that were no softer that whispers in the night.

“-then I want to kiss you again. We still have much to learn of each other but your touch against me has taught me desires I thought I'd never yearn for again. Please allow me one kiss to tell me how madly I'll need thee each and every day… from this moment on.”

Your body quaked to hear him grovel for your touch and he softened your harsh trembling with a squeeze to your palm-

But only before he guided your fingers below his mask.

You first closed your eyes as you were instructed but you felt the suspense in every part of you when he allowed your fingers to unsnap the small clasps that kept it secured to his under coverings and gently in the dim dark to hide him more discreetly, he rose the mask up and away from his chin, letting it gently rest further atop his head with your fingers aiding tenderly.

You heard his breath sounding more raw than ever now that his mask was raised, even slightly and your lips parted again to know that truly he must have been comfortable and secure with the need to kiss you. He put his hand to your chin to guide your virgin mouth and without another breath that would steal another moment.. he pulled your mouth upon his from under his silver facade. 》