#cardinal series

[edelgarfield]

bestie i’ve seen you reblogging durgetash and i can’t refrain from asking….will we be seeing any post-relationship durgetash in ‘cardinal, sunrise, morning star’????

hehehe maybe

[gravehags]

at the altar of venus

Pairing: Cardinal Copia x f!Reader (Curator!Reader)

Rating: EXPLICIT, MDNI

Tags: body worship babyyyy, self-consciousness, body issues, handjobs, fingering, crying, possessiveness, two fools in love and lust, two fools being gross and making each other laugh

Words: 4,251

Summary: When you watch your beloved turn and turn in front of that mirror, you know something is off. Lucky for him, you have much to say on the matter.

a/n: I JUST THINK HANDSOME OLD MAN APPRECIATION TIME with yknow. a side of total filth and desperate desire.

~~~

What a day.

You wiggle your nude body in Copia’s soft sheets, nuzzle into your pillow and look across the room. Your lover is standing before the full-length mirror next to the dresser - also nude - turning his body to consider himself at different angles in the low lamplight. You watch him for a moment, watch the way his fingers card through his graying hair, loose from the grip of the day’s pomade. He runs his hand down his chest thoughtfully and comes to rest at the slight paunch of his belly. He cups the skin and his lips tug downwards into a frown.

“Amore?” he asks quietly, “do you think I’m eh, nice looking? Handsome?”

Any other time you’d laugh out loud at such an absurd question but you can tell from his slumped posture that he’s feeling downtrodden and that simply won’t do.

“The most handsome man I’ve ever seen. And that is not hyperbole. You’re the only man to ever turn my head.”

He sighs heavily through his nose and looks back at his reflection.

“You don’t think I’m…too old for you?”

Now it’s your turn to frown.

“My love…come here.”

He turns to look at you again and you crook your finger and throw back the covers. Fidgeting awkwardly he ambles over and slides into bed and you waste no time in pressing soft kisses to his jaw.

“Shall I tell you how handsome I find you? In great detail - from tip to toe?”

He scoffs and moves to pull the covers up over his chest but you gently rest your hand on his to stop him.

“You eh…you would do that?”

Now you do laugh.

“With pleasure,” you murmur, “let me just–” you pull yourself up and swing your leg over to straddle him, “--there we go. Let’s start here.” You rake your fingernails through his soft, wavy hair and smile when he shivers.

“I love your beautiful, full head of gorgeous thick hair and I love the bits of silver threaded through it most of all. I’ve told you before I’ve always had an, ah, thing for older men and well…what sort of older gentleman aficionado would I be if I didn’t love graying hair? I love the way the light catches on the silver and how it feels between my fingers when you’re uh…busy between my legs.”

He laughs softly through his nose, which is incidentally where your journey takes you next.

“And speaking of when you’re between my legs,” you say, waggling your brows as you drag your fingertip down the slope of his nose, “when this beautiful, stately, elegant thing nudges at my clit…oh. Copia I’ve always loved your nose since day one but what this thing is capable of…”

Your eyes unfocus for a moment as you lean in to kiss it absentmindedly.

“You’re getting distracted, amore mio,” Copia murmurs, eyes glittering. Eyes. Those pretty, mismatched eyes and those long brown lashes…

“As always, you are too kind to me,” he chortles, reaching a hand up to stroke your hair. Sathanas, you didn’t even realize you had said that out loud. “I used to hate my eyes when I was a kid, you know? Always a reminder of the bloodline I was a part of but never really a part of…not according to Nihil anyway. Where others thought the white eye was ‘commanding’ on Secondo or ‘alluring’ on Terzo, it was always eh, ‘unsettling’ on me.”

“Hmm,” you say thoughtfully, “I certainly don’t think you need them but did you ever consider contact lenses?”

“Oh, sì, sì,” he nods, “tried them once too in my twenties but eh…something was just…off. Personally I thought I looked creepier with two green eyes.”

You lean back a little and raise a hand to cover his white eye, and then the green while tilting your head.

“Shoulda got a white contact for the green eye instead so you could go around looking like some sexy demonic husky.”

Copia bursts out in laughter, his chest shaking beneath your palms.

“I thought this was supposed to make me feel better?”

“It is! I made you laugh, didn’t I?” you say with a grin, leaning down to place a slow, soft kiss on his lips that has his hands settling on your hips.

“Love these too,” you breathe when you finally separate, “love how soft and plump they are and I especially love the little freckle right here–” you place the pad of your thumb on his full lower lip, “--God you have no idea how it drove me mad day in and day out whenever we’d work together. Driving me to distraction. All I’d ever want to do when you got close to me is…” You lean forward once more and catch his lip gently between your teeth, sucking on it until you feel his cock twitch against you.

“Mmm,” you pull off him with a wet noise that has him panting into the dimly lit room, “is someone starting to buy into the truth that he’s the most handsome man in the abbey? Perhaps even the world?”

“Don’t push your luck, dolcezza, I’m just eh, excited to have a beautiful, soft, young thing on top of me. One who is very good with her mouth, I might add.”

“Oh, that’s too bad you still don’t believe me when I say you’re beautiful. Try harder and maybe I’ll give you a little treat, hmm?”

He chuckles and tilts his head back.

“I’ll do my best. Done with the face, then?”

“And skip your glorious little mustache and impeccably crafted sideburns? Cardinal, you know I’m a woman who pays attention to the details. To say nothing of the freckles that are scattered over your face and down–” you trail a finger down his throat and tap on his clavicle, “--over your chest and shoulders? I’d kiss every single one if I thought I’d live to accomplish that.” You amuse yourself for a moment by playing connect the dots with the marks until your fingertip slides over and traces the lines of his tattoo.

“You never did tell me the story with this.”

He smiles, thumbs brushing soft circles on your thighs.

“Terzo did it. I had just entered the priesthood and he came to my quarters and got me drunk and convinced–”

“Wait, when you say ‘Terzo did it’ you mean Terzo gave you the tattoo?”

“Sì,” he nods, “He knew how much I loved the Omen movies and always complained that I never did anything wild so…”

You lean forward and inspect the ink.

“That looks…a lot better than anything I would have expected from Terzo.”

Copia snickers.

“His lines were surprisingly steady, but his hand not nearly strong enough. I had a professional touch it up later but that stays between us, sì?”

You give him a salute and lean back, raking your fingernails down his chest.

“Back to the topic at hand,” you murmur, “unholy fuck I love your body hair. It’s so thick and soft and I love the way it scratches just right at my nipples when you’re fucking me into the mattress.”

He sucks in a breath so fast he nearly chokes.

“You’re really not holding back, are you cara mia?”

“Nope,” you confirm, watching the way the tip of his tongue slides out to wet his lips as he eyes your breasts. Briefly, your hands abandon his torso to come up and cup them, thumbing across your hardened nipples. You pull away and grab his hands, placing them where yours once were. Greedily, he palms the flesh as your hips make little circles.

“These,” you breathe, your hands covering his, “these gorgeous, big, strong hands with these thick fingers…I can’t even count how many times I brought myself off to the thought of them.”

“O-oh?” he pants, removing one hand and bringing it up to cup your face, “with the gloves a-and everything?”

You lean into his touch.

“Especially with the gloves. Copia, the way I’d fantasize about being able to feel every stitch and groove of those things when I’d picture them inside of me…” You turn your head to place a kiss to the scar tissue at the center of his palm and his thumb strokes your cheekbone. “Mmm, you got me distracted again. Where was I?”

You look down and remember, scooting backwards down his body to settle in between his thighs. He whines now that you’re only touchable if he sits up, too tired to make an effort. Not, however, too tired for other things, you think as you look down at his hardened cock resting heavy against his belly, smearing pre on the hairs there.

“We’ll address this,” you say, gesturing to his erection, “in a bit. But for now…this.”

Your word is punctuated by the way you run your hands over his slight paunch, grinning as you knead the flesh. Copia’s shoulders twitch as if he’d like nothing more than to fold in on himself, eyes trained up somewhere over your shoulder.

“Your soft tummy is so sweet and perfect and–” you make a noise like a big cat growling, “--I just want to eat it up.”

“Clearly from its appearance I’ve eh, done enough eating for the both of us.”

You frown deeply.

“Copia,” you say, your tone deadly serious, “since when do you have problems with a belly? I hope you don’t have problems with my belly and mine is a lot bigger than yours—“

“Amore, never!” he gasps, horrified, “You…you are perfection. You are soft and plush and-and a goddess. This–” he says, gesturing lamely to his paunch, “--is the result of old age. Old age and too much spaghetti.”

“Yeah, and that’s exactly why it’s hot,” you say, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “My love, this little belly shows that not only have you enjoyed life, reveled in it the way Sathanas intended, but that you’ve survived. Endured. I love this belly the way I love every single line on your face. You wouldn’t be my Copia without them. I didn’t fall in love with some guy in his twenties with a waxed six-pack. Quite frankly…ew. Respectfully, beloved, I fell for the kind, smart, handsome, distinguished gentleman in his almost-fifties. Who is sort of goofy and really good with his tongue. I mean…really good.”

He laughs softly through his nose, regarding you with watery eyes. His lips form the words to thank you but no voice comes out. That’s alright, though. You’re not telling him these truths for your benefit.

“Shall I continue?” you ask gently, smiling when he nods.

Your hands slide down to his thighs, where you massage the flesh.

“You know I hadn’t even seen these - like, really seen them - until our first official date? When you wore those tight, tight pants? Lord have mercy these things are thick. I’d be content to gnaw on them like a dog with a bone if you’d let me.”

“Who says I wouldn’t?” he murmurs, cocking an eyebrow at you.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” you say with a wink, “I’d compliment your juicy ass too if I could get to it so just remind me to give it a healthy smack next time you’re standing, huh? The first time I saw you in profile in your cassock I almost passed out. Goddamn.”

He laughs and tilts his head at you.

“Ti adoro follemente,” he says, “thank you for making this old man love himself, even if it’s just a tiny bit.”

“I’ll take a tiny bit for now, we’ll work on the positive reinforcement.”

“Oh? And what kind of positive reinforcement did you have in mind?”

You ghost your fingers along his half hard cock, wrapping them around the shaft and leaning forward to spit thickly, your saliva landing on the head. The act has Copia moaning and shifting his hips up into your touch as you stroke him back to full hardness.

“Ah, dolcezza,” he sighs, half-lidded eyes watching your hand slide along the shaft, “if only you had known what I fantasized about with your hands.”

“Well go on, bello mio,” you purr, swiping your thumb along the slit to gather the pre leaking from the head. “Tell me.”

He grunts and ruts up into your touch.

“W-we’d be in your office…working on some…some administrative thing. And I’d watch the way those clever little fingers would fly across your keyboard–ah, fuck–and I’d imagine you leaving your desk a-and settling on your knees between my legs. Lifting my cassock up and palming me through m-my trousers. S-sometimes you’d use your mouth too but…always your hands. Always those s-soft fingers wrapped around me j-just like this. I–oh, cazzo–”

His voice cuts off with a moan as you spit on him once again, the wet slide of your pumping hand and his harsh breathing the only sound in the room. With your other hand you reach down to cup his balls, gently caressing them as you continue to stroke the length of him.

“I-I’m not going to last, amore,” he rasps out, thrusting into your grip, “just like that bellezza mia.”

“You’re beautiful,” you murmur, “you’re beautiful, you’re beautiful, you’re beautiful, and I love you just as you are.”

You know the last handful of words will send him over the edge and send him they do, until he’s coming in spurts over your knuckles and gasping your name. You continue to stroke him until he has nothing left to give and when he’s spent, you raise your hand to your face and fastidiously lick every drop of his spend from your fingers as he watches with his mouth hung open. When your tongue passes over your middle finger for the final time he grabs at you, eagerly hauling you up his body and slotting his lips over your mouth in a slow, decadent kiss. When you finally pull away, it’s with a smile and you nudge his nose with yours. Gently, you roll off of him and nuzzle into his side, lazily kissing his shoulder. When he rolls onto his side to face you, you move to do the same but he presses you back down into the mattress.

“Copia, your stamina is impressive but you literally just came I don’t expect–”

He chuckles, gently dragging the bedsheets down to expose your body.

“Your turn, dolcezza.”

“My turn–oh.”

The realization hits you as the fingers of his right hand tease at the underside of your breasts and against your belly, dipping further down to cup at the wet heat of you, driving a gasp from your lips. He leans towards you to inhale deep along your neck, lips ghosting over your hair.

“I wouldn’t even know where to start in praising you, bellezza mia. Sweet - in both disposition and taste, tender in body and heart, beautiful in all ways. Tongue and mind as sharp as a tack and ridiculously amusing. Perfetto–” two of his fingers dip down into your labia majora and you see him smile out of the corner of your eye at how slick you are for him. “My perfect girl. Kind. Perhaps too kind and indulgent to this old man but…” his fingertips circle your clit and your hips spasm, “he will show you just how thankful he is nonetheless, sì?”

You whimper as his fingers tease at your entrance before sliding inside you knuckle deep, palm pressed flush against your clit. An echo of how you would touch yourself to the thought of him not that long ago.

“I’m not wearing my gloves but eh, I hope this will suffice for now?”

Your laugh comes out breathy as he begins to fuck into you at a decadent, leisurely pace, pressing open mouthed kisses to your shoulder.

“I never dreamed at my age I’d find someone like you,” he confesses, “Like you were–like we were made for each other. Every morning and every night I thank Sathanas for bringing you to me, thank you for allowing me to worship you. Anima mia, I adore you so much I wish to devour you. To join our bodies and minds and souls together for eternity and further. I told you before that I love you so much I fear driving you off but…I think we are equally matched in our passions, sì?”

You let out a delighted sigh, spreading your legs further to better accommodate him. It’s nice like this - lazy, unhurried - and he smiles as you clench around him.

“Perfectly matched,” you breathe, meeting the languid thrust of his fingers with the tight circling of your hips, “Copia I am yours in every way - yours to use and fuck and–ah–consume as you please. All yours. Always yours–oh fuck.”

The fervor of your words makes his breathing and his fingers quicken, pumping in and out of you with greater force.

“I would have you all night if you let me,” he growls, his breath hot in your ear, “Say you’ll let me, per favore. Please give me this gift. On my fingers, tongue, cock, it doesn’t matter I need you amore, need to watch you come undone and help mend you back together. Please, I–”

He’s crooked his fingers inside you, pressing against that sweet little spot that makes you whine and cant your hips eagerly. You can feel the tears prick the corners of your eyes and you’re breathless as you nod.

“Copia, please, please, please, need you, need all of you–oh, fuck baby that’s it, don’t stop, don’t–ah!”

Your moan is pitchy and borderline desperate as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm. 

“Mine,” he growls, “Solo mio come sono tuo. La mia bellissima ragazza perfetta. Il mio cuore e la mia anima. Il mio riflesso. La mia luce e il mio buio. Per sempre. Mia scellerata benedizione, non ti merito. I love you more than anything. Anything.”

Panting, you blindly reach down to still his hand between your legs and he sobs into your shoulder. Gently, you extricate his fingers from you and bring his hand up to your face, tongue darting out to taste yourself. Tears slide down his cheeks as he watches, entranced, as you suck each finger into your mouth before dragging the muscle up the center of his palm. His eyes are wet and bright, pupils blown as you lean up and place a soft kiss to his lips. When you pull apart, you thumb away the tears remaining on his cheeks and smile softly at him.

“I-I’m sorry,” he stutters, sniffling, “I don’t know what got into me, amore, I–”

“This was a lot,” you murmur, reaching up to push the loose strands of hair off his forehead, “but I hope you know how loved you are by me - everything about you, all of it - and that there is no one more beautiful on this planet to me than the man I see before me right now. And I’ll remind you of this again and again and again until the end of days and even further. You are so special to me, Copia. I hope that even for a little bit tonight you got to see yourself through my eyes.”

When he leans forward to place a kiss to your forehead, he’s trembling.

“C’mere,” you say, drawing him into your arms as he drapes his body over you, arm around your waist. The weight of him is solid and comforting as you press kisses to his hair, enveloping yourself in the orange blossom scent of what little remains of his pomade. 

“I promised to ravish you all night,” Copia murmurs, his voice comically muffled by his lips squished against your breast. You snort inelegantly.

“We’ve got many nights ahead of us for that, my love,” you say with a smile, hand stroking along his freckled shoulders, “I’m not going anywhere and neither are you. But more importantly - are you alright?”

He pulls away slightly to rest his chin on you.

“I don’t think I have been for a long time,” he says quietly, “Not really, anyway. But ever since you arrived…columba mia, it’s like I have a purpose again.”

Now it’s your turn for your eyes to get watery.

“I know exactly what you mean. Exactly. I…I really need to thank Sister Imperator someday for bringing me here, in the end. I mean yeah she had nefarious intentions but…in a roundabout way she kinda helped save my life.”

“Amore, I don’t mean to sound like some kind of eh, Christian but…Sathanas has a plan for us. And it doesn’t involve any of that child bearing bullshit that was being spewed at you…no. He brought us together for a reason and for that I am thankful every day. Thankful every day you did not run screaming from Imperator’s office the day of your interview. Thankful you saw this…peculiar, awkward, old Cardinal…and saw not only a friend but a-a soulmate. I thank Sathanas but like I said earlier - I thank you more. I would forsake my Unholy Father in a heartbeat for you, amore. You are my true religion now. Know that.”

The noise that comes out of you is wet and embarrassing as you cup Copia’s cheek and rest your forehead against his. After a moment of shared breath, you pull away.

“My love, I’m so sorry to ruin the moment but I desperately need to blow my nose.”

He laughs - one of his weird little “ehehe” numbers - and the sound makes your heart swell in your chest.

“Anything for the woman I love,” he announces grandly, leaning over you to grab the box of tissues on the nightstand and present them to you. You pluck one out and hold it to your face while Copia watches fondly from a very close distance.

“Uh, hon?”

“Mmhmm?”

“You might want to back up a little? I don’t trust the integrity of these things and you do not want to be in the splash zone.”

Copia rolls off you making the most revolted noise as you laugh and struggle to breathe through your congested nose. Sitting up, you blow into the tissue while he watches looking supremely disgusted.

“‘Splash zone’,” he grumbles, shaking his head, “Amore, you are not well.”

“Yeah, I think that’s been established in our year of knowing one another. And, I’m sorry I didn’t realize I was speaking to the pinnacle of mental health over here.”

He pinches the meat of your thigh mid-blow and it makes you choke. In retaliation, you throw one of your crumpled, used tissues at him and it bounces off his chest.

“Augh, it’s wet!”

“Duh, that’s my snot,” you chirp pleasantly. “What you don’t like it? What was all that before about how I’m ‘your beautiful, perfect girl’, and ‘your reflection’, and ‘your heart and soul’ and–”

“...You understood all of that?”

You smile.

“Not all of it, but most. I’ve got a pretty impressive Duolingo streak going from all those nights you have confession duty, you know.”

He props himself up on his side and stares at you with a goofy smile.

“Amore mio, I take back my disgust. You could use me as a tissue and I would say thank you.”

That makes a horrible noise come out of you.

“Copia, I’d call you a simp but I think there would be some pot calling the kettle black action going on there so I’ll refrain. Ugh, what a fucking day.”

You gather up your used tissues with the intent of heading to the bathroom with them but Copia turns to you with his hands cupped expectantly. Gently, you smile before depositing them and watching him get up and pad over to the garbage in the other room. When he comes back after washing his hands and climbs into bed, making his delightful old man noises, you grin.

“Thank you for indulging me tonight,” you murmur as you nestle into his side.

“Indulging you? As if I wasn’t the one getting showered with compliments by a beautiful, nude, young woman?”

“You know what I mean,” you say, trying your best to stifle a yawn. “For hearing me out, for letting me show you how perfect you are to me…all of it. And thank you for the very kind things you said about me in turn. I…will not easily forget that.”

“I certainly hope not but like you, I am prepared to remind you over and over and over of how precious and perfect you are.”

“With fingers, tongue, and cock?” you ask innocently, parroting Copia’s earlier promise. He snorts.

“Dolcezza mia, however you want it.”

“Mmm,” your eyelids are getting heavy as you listen to Copia’s steady breathing, “I’ll hold you to that.”

“I would expect nothing less from such a demanding mistress.”

“Oh you haven’t even seen my demanding mistress side yet, beloved.”

He’s got his eyes closed but makes the dirtiest, most intrigued noise you’ve ever heard and it makes butterflies ricochet around in your stomach. His hand trails teasingly up your arm, causing a shiver to roll through you.

“Well, Padrona,” he murmurs, low and enticing, “I’m not entirely sure I’m ready for bed just yet.”

You’re already sitting up with a sigh and straddling his hips for the second time that evening as you say: “Insatiable as always, Your Eminence. Hmm, do I get to wear your grucifix and biretta? Perhaps I’ll get that pretty red rope out too?”

“Oh amore…I insist.”

[cardinal-crossing]

Another edition to the flower series!! I had a lot of fun once again, and I think this one took even longer, at just shy of 7 hours. I am so happy that I'm graduating in a few days so I can do more stuff like this. It really does make me very happy to just sit down and paint for a few hours. This piece is a companion piece to the Emmet One, I did a few days ago.

Again, the flower meanings will be under the cut, but read at your discretion because it makes the piece sad.

Alright so flower meanings! Again most of the flowers mean grief in some aspect, but it's also related to memory (or the loss of) Rosemary Flowers (top left in the hat): Rosemary flowers usually represent love and remembrance. In this case, they represent Ingo's love for his missing person but the pain that comes with not being able to remember.

Asphodel Flowers (On the left near Ingo's face): The Asphodel flowers mean, "My regrets follow you to the grave," but it can also mean, "I will remember you beyond the tomb." The second meaning is the one that I am referencing, as Ingo will likely never see Emmet again, but he remembers that he misses someone, and regrets that he never got to meet them again.

White Camellia (over the eye): This flower means a few different things, but the one that I am referencing is the meaning "longing for you." I believe the camellia is akin to the rose, where its more familiar meaning is romance or heartbreak. Still, the meaning I am deriving from is one of the Victorian languages of flowers (there is a fantastic book I will reference at the very end of it is incredible and I love it dearly) Anyway, this flower is self-explanatory in the way that Ingo longs for the person he never remembers and likely will never see again, but he wishes he could. Forget-Me-Nots (on the right by Ingo's face): I reused this flower from the other piece to connect the two pieces, but I'll reuse the meaning here, as I am using it in the same context. Forget-me-nots represent true love; this flower means love and respect towards the person it is gifted to, and the person will never be forgotten in your thoughts. I am slightly alluding to maybe Ingo being gifted this flower by Emmet before he departed, as a reminder that someone respects and loves him very much, but Ingo cannot remember who. However, I haven't decided yet. Lily of the Valley (Very bottom in the bouquet): The lily of the valley's lesser-known meaning, the pain, and loss that comes with death, is the one I'm using. Representing Ingo's minimal memory of Emmet and Emmet essentially dying within Ingo's mind as Ingo makes a new home for himself in Hisui. However, despite all the sadness and loss, Ingo hasn't forgotten entirely. Willow Tree Leaves (on the right side in the hat band): I reused these as well, as I really like the shape of the leaves and how I worked it into the piece, I'll also reuse the same explanation of the meaning. While not technically a flower, the willow tree has its own meaning. A willow tree often represents sorrow and loss, as well as mourning. OKAY! Here is my rant about flowers. Also, the book I referenced is Florigrophy by Jessica Roux. I love all the illustrations, and the writing and explanations are wonderful. I am working on getting a copy of my own, as I have been borrowing the one from my school library, but it is wonderful. I would recommend it. Thank you so much for reading this! I love flowers, and painting them is one of my favorite things.

[conjuring-ghouls]

Copia being horny on stage (1/?)

This is the first part of a series I’m doing with @sxnnelysister. She’s sharing the second part in her blog in a few minutes, go check it out!

[demaparbat-hp]

First, omg YOUR ZUTARA ART! It's so so beautiful I want to weep.

Do you have any Zutara fic recs? I need some more Zutara in my life lol

Hi! That's so sweet, thank you ❤️

Most of my free time is spent reading, but I almost never save the links...and can never seem to remember the names and/or authors of the fics.

Luckily I saved the links for some of my absolute favorite fics! There are a lot of truly breathtaking works out there and, sadly, I can't mention them all. These are some names in a very long list of favorites. I hope you enjoy them ❤️

Vermillion Seas, Cardinal Skies by @geothewriter

New directions and re-imagined canon events race toward a different endgame. From lighting bending to bloodbending and deal-making in the Spirit World, this canon-divergent/adjacent AU travels a new road, where unforeseen experiences shape who our heroes are, and who they will become. A Zutara slowburn.

Forgetting is a kind of mercy by @nerdylizj

It's death by a thousand cuts, Katara thinks. Saying goodbye to their old lives, forging ahead with whatever amalgamation of reality once they both fully remember everything, whatever reality that may be. Yet, two tethers between them will remain. Or, Five years after Katara and Zuko go missing in Ba Sing Se, Kya and Lee are found living peacefully in the Earth Kingdom countryside.

Eight Years Later by @starlight-tea-writing

Eight years after Sozin’s Comet, everyone’s lives have begun to take shape, their responsibilities pulling them further and further apart. The last three years have been broken up with infrequent and hurried meetings and get togethers, but by happenstance, things play out a little differently for the eighth anniversary of the End of War. Follow what happens in the year after all of Team Avatar gets together again and the found family re-finds each other and grows even larger. Zutara centric, Sukka, Toph/OC, Aang/OC Irregular updates, Saturdays only.

The White Lotus Zuko series by @calcliffbas

Zuko becomes one of the good guys a little earlier than usual, and joins Aang, Sokka and Katara in Omashu. A canon-adjacent series featuring friendship, humor, and romance.

The Spirit Trap by @leradny

In the Southern Water Tribe, Hakoda teaches his second son Katara to channel the grief over the death of his mother in a healthy way. In the Fire Nation Capital, Ozai tries to betroth his eldest daughter Princess Zuko to Iroh's son, and Ursa has to explain why that's not a good idea. [AU: Switched Genders, but just for Zuko and Katara]

Everything I Am by we-were-angels(untilwefallinlove)

There is something inevitable about them; like the certainty of the sun in the morning and the moon and all her stars at night. After all is said in done, how will history tell their stories? (Set after the One Hundred Year War and the years following.)

[honeyynymphh]

| A Lesson in Heroinism |

Cardinal Copia x Fem!Reader rating: E word count: 4.8k tags: dom copia, vampires, teacher/student (sort of), light dom/sub, p in v, copia is a dick

They say Cardinal Copia is a vampire but you don't believe that...do you? Sequel to Freshly Squeezed but can be read independently.

read on ao3 18+ MDNI

Three paces, turn, one step—mind the crack—two more paces, stare at the clock. Sigh. Turn, three paces. One step—

“Sister.”

You stop, foot hovering in the air and stare at the ghoul across from you that’s waiting outside Sister Imperator’s office. The ghoul narrows its eyes at you. “Stop pacing, you are making me feel anxious. And I am a demon. Demons do not get anxious.”

“Sorry!” You drop your foot and stumble on the hem of your habit, hitting your shoulder on the stone wall. You hear the ghoul snicker before Imperator’s office door opens and it slinks inside.

Rubbing your arm, you flop down on the small bench outside the door you’ve been pacing in front of. You’ve already been sitting there for thirty minutes and you’re restless. You’d woken up to a note from Cardinal Copia requesting you come see him and here you damn well were. Standing again, you stare up at the intricate pattern on the abbey’s cathedral ceiling.

You were nervous. The last time you’d been alone with the Cardinal, only last night, his cock had been buried in your cunt and he’d given you the best orgasm you’d ever had. It felt like it had been some sort of wild dream and if it wasn’t for the bruises on your hips and the way your body still aches, you might have believed it had been.

You hope it will happen again. Why else would he ask you to come to his office this morning?

Squeezing your thighs together you continue pacing a moment before you lean against the door. Perhaps you should just leave. This was ridiculous waiting so long for that horrible old man.

And he was horrible. Horrible, horrible, horrible. Cantankerous. Unfair. Very good with his hands—wait, no! You huff out in frustration and your breath catches when the door you are leaning on suddenly snaps open.

You stumble backwards and feel two hands grab you firmly by the shoulders so you don’t fall over.

“Do you make it a habit of stumbling into places, Sister?” whispers a taunting voice by your ear.

You right yourself and spin around to glare at Cardinal Copia. He’s standing there, looking all neat in his black cassock as he flicks non-existent lint off one shoulder.

“I have been waiting for nearly an hour!” you say angrily. “And you’ve been in here the whole time?”

“It’s been twenty minutes.” The man shrugs. “I thought you’d be late.”

“I can tell the time, Cardinal.”

“Mmm.” You could tell he doubted that very much.

He was such an arse! You couldn’t believe he’d touched you—fucked you! Your whole body flushes at the memory. Maybe it had been a truly delirious dream. His strange eyes slowly take you in from head to toe and again you feel the flush.

You swallow your nerves and lift your chin. “Well? Why did you wish to see me?”

The man just tilts his head and clicks his tongue, still staring at you. You shift on your feet awkwardly. Hells, you wish he would stop staring at you.

Finally he sighs and says, “Papa Primo says you’ve been doing exemplary work in the greenhouses.” He says the words with a high amount of scepticism and you briefly wonder if you could poison Copia and get away with it. Something to think about. “And he has requested that your shifts in the archives with Cardinal Giorgio be swapped for assisting him.”

You perk up at that. The archives are interesting but Cardinal Giorgio and dusty, dark rooms were awfully monotonous. And Copia spent too much time in the library, before last night you would have done anything to get away from him. But now…? There is a look in his eyes you still don’t like, no matter how good his cock had been, it still didn’t make up for his terrible and downright rude personality. Besides all that, you did really like working in the greenhouses, plants were one thing you understood and loved.

“Well, that would be wonderful!” you say, seeming to forget with whom you are speaking with.

Cardinal Copia smiles, and it's a wretched evil little smile that makes your stomach feel uneasy.

“I told Papa no,” he says airily as your brow furrows. “Cardinal Giorgio needs your assistance more than Papa Primo and you already know the ins and outs of the archives, it would take too much time to train another sibling.”

You shake your head. “So why did you call me in here?”

“Just to keep you informed, Sister.” He gives another one of his terrifyingly gleeful smiles. “Now I must get to the chapel and so should you.”

He pats you on the shoulder before breezing past you and you dumbly watch him stalk down the hall, siblings scattering away like frightened mice. Maybe it had really been a dream. You just cannot believe that last night had happened.

You glance at the Cardinal’s desk and you roll your eyes at the overly neat way it is laid out—it’s pathological. You just know if you got a ruler out that his pencils would be the same width apart. In a fit of mischief, you move everything to the left a centimetre, twist his books so they’re slightly off and turn his idol of Lucifer a couple of degrees to the right. You even, with a lot of exertion, managed to drag his desk on one side so it’s ever so slightly off. Satisfied, you wipe the sweat from your brown and smile to yourself before hurrying out of his office.

Later that afternoon, you sit in the lecture hall, listening to Copia droning on about some demon or rather. You weren’t paying attention—you rarely did. Today it was more out of spite than not caring about whatever it was the evil old bastard was blathering about. What was his problem, you wonder? You shift in your seat and poke at a bruise on your thigh, again to reassure you that, yes, last night he had fucked you to hell and back.

Was this some sort of payment for pleasure? Did you now have to suffer for the absolute high you had experienced? That seemed like something too Catholic for this unholy institution. And, it was bad enough that it had been at the hands of Cardinal Copia, was that not punishment enough? You told yourself it didn’t matter, you didn’t care. You would just think about it for the rest of your life. You sigh and settle into the chair further.

Sitting at the back of the room was the best place, the afternoon sun was streaming through the high glass windows. It was warm on your face, and the sound of Copia talking at the front of the class was easy to tune out. Besides, the book you had stashed in your bag was calling your name. One of the perks of working in the library meant seeing a whole catalogue of different books. Some of them happened to include trashy romances with lots of monsters and a whole lot of satanic debauchery. Most were truly awful but they were a lot of fun—much more fun than whatever the Cardinal was talking about.

Glancing at him, you saw he was scribbling some diagram on the large chalkboard and grabbed the worn novel out of your bag, slipping it in front of the large demonology textbook and propping it slightly up so the paperback wasn’t visible.

You sink a little further into your chair and lose yourself in the story.

The dress ripped as his rough hands tore at the fabric, making Marianna gasp. She could feel his hard length against her thigh. How she wanted him! But it was too risky here on the terrace—anyone from the ballroom could come outside and find them. But Marianna could not help the burning fire in her belly and the look in Lord Cross’s dark eyes.

Were the rumours true? Would he feast on her virgin flesh? Marianna could not bring herself to care, for his hot mouth upon her soft skin was making her come undone. He—

“Sorella.”

You flinch, twisting around in your chair to find Copia towering over you. All eyes of the class are on you as a leather clad hand reaches over and plucks the book out from within its hiding spot.

Oh fuck.

You swallow and stare up at him. Maybe he won’t mind. Maybe…maybe he will make you stay after class. You press your legs together, suddenly somewhat hopeful. Copia smiles at you, and that hope is extinguished immediately.

He glances at the cover. “This is not the required reading, Sister.” He dangles the offending paperback like a proud housewife holding a dead mouse. “I do not want this in my lectures.”

“Yes, Your Eminence.” God the last time you had said that you’d been riding his cock. Your face flushes, his face barely betrays a thing except for dilated pupils and the twitch of his moustache.

An eyebrow quirks in question and he opens the book again, the only sound in the room is the bated breath of every other sibling as Copia’s leather gloves flick over the pages.

He pauses, eyes darting over the pages. “What is this ‘velvet-wrapped steel penetrating the precious valley between her legs’? Why do they not just say cock, sister?” He snaps the book shut, lips now twisting into a gleeful smirk. “Don’t you prefer cock in your wet cunt, eh?”

Everyone else laughs, grateful for the release of tension. The colour drains from your face as you watch him walk away and hear the loud thud of the book hitting his desk. You slink lower into your chair. But you aren’t free yet. Copia calls out to you from the front of the room and all eyes snap back to you.

“You will stay after the lecture has ended, Sister.” He taps the chalkboard. “Do try to pay attention.”

You glare at him, crossing your arms and keeping your eyes on him for the rest of the lecture. You don’t hear a word, too busy wondering about how that stupidly large nose of his would feel between your legs. Maybe you could suffocate him with your thighs.

When the lesson finally ends, you slowly make your way down to the front and you stand at the desk and wait. His eyes land on you and he stares a moment before he speaks.

“You are here to learn, Sorella,” he says. “Not to read badly written pornography.”

It wasn’t that bad, you think. “Yes, Your Eminence.”

“Good girl.” Oh hells, you think, don’t say that. “Now, tomorrow I want your full attention. You will sit right here.”

He points at the row of desks at the front. You just nod.

“Bene.” He waves a dismissive hand. “You can leave now.”

“But my book!” you say, any pretence of politeness forgotten. “And you said you would give me my knickers back!” you add in a harsh whisper. An eyebrow is arched but you aren’t cowed. It’s hard to be afraid of a man when you’ve ridden his cock and then tottered back to your room with his cum dripping down your thighs. Well, maybe he is still a little intimidating. “Your Eminence,” you add politely.

“You can survive without this brain rotting vulgarity for a day,” he says. “And your…panties?”

Your brow wrinkles. ‘Panties’ is not a word Cardinal Copia should say.

“Yes,” you say, trying to remain polite. “You said you would give them back to me.”

“Hmm?” He reaches into a pocket somewhere within his black cassock and you see him pull your knickers out. You go to grab them but he snatches his hand away. “Did I? I can’t say I recall that.”

You watch him bring them to his face, that stupid nose of his pressing against the fabric and inhaling deep. It shouldn’t make you cunt ache but it does. Your body feels caught between arousal and anger so you simply storm off, hearing the sound of his chuckle behind you.

It was midnight. It was freezing. It was a stupid idea.

However!

You were so restless. And that evil man had taken your book. You were not brave enough to spy on him again, not after his utter dismissal of you. The other night had definitely happened. You could barely stop thinking about it. Yet he had made no effort to try and get you into his bed again—well, not that you had been in his bed but that wasn’t the point. It had been crazy enough that you wanted Copia and now? You’d had him and your ridiculous body only wanted more. Maybe you should just go and find some relief with someone else—Terzo was always more than amiable. You sighed. You didn’t want to spend the night with Papa.

You wanted something exhilarating. The Cardinal was a little frightening—more than a little—and fuck. The way he had touched you had been downright sinful. You wanted more of him.

It was a shame that he was such an ass. Maybe you could shove your panties in his mouth. Hmm. Though, he did have a lovely voice and some of the things he had said…you shuddered. However, you did not want to embarrass yourself any further in front of him. It was clear he thought you stupid, and perhaps you weren’t the most clever sibling but you were not an idiot.

All these thoughts run through your head as you sneak down the empty halls. Cardinal Georgio still had yet to notice the key was missing and you weren’t going to be too hasty in returning it. It meant you could access not only the archives but the entire library! You would just duck in, grab another book and get out.

You’d grabbed an oil lamp when leaving your room and now you let its soft light guide you through the many shelves. There were so many books to choose from and the smell of the library was so comforting. The books slumbered in their shelves as you walked past, fingers idly dragging over the titles.

When you hear a noise you freeze, turning the lamp off and ducking behind a shelf. You peer through a gap and see a small figure dart down the shelves, coming closer to you. They also have an oil lamp in their hands. The room is silent as they scurry along, their head bobbing as they scan the books before them.

It’s another Sister, though you cannot tell who in the darkness. You watch her and hear her muttering under breath. She’s too busy reading the spines of the books with the light of the lamp to notice the figure in the shadows slowly approaching her. You want to tell her to run but she’s too far away, and you don’t want the figure to notice you.

As even in the murky darkness there is no mistaking the shape and walk of Cardinal Copia. He’s slowly creeping towards her and when he is a foot away, he stops and leans forward to whisper in her ear.

She shrieks.

“You’ll wake the entire abbey,” you hear him snap. “Why are you out of bed at this hour?”

“Cardinal!” The poor girl sounded panicked. “I have an exam tomorrow and I needed—“

“You should have thought of that earlier,” he says as he shoos her out the large doors, “get back to the west wing now, Sorella.”

You watch a moment, seeing the Cardinal shut the large doors behind him. After a moment, when there are no sounds but your own breathing, you light the lamp again. Slowly creep towards the door and take the key from your pocket, locking it. No more distractions.

Feeling like you can breathe again, you head back to the shelves and flick through the dusty books until you find something that catches your interest—vampires. You read the blurb at the back, something about a dashing count living in the Italian countryside who has gone mad over his lost love and turned to Satan, changing him into a blood sucking devil. You briefly flick through the pages and decide that it will do for the night. You go to leave but you yelp at the sight of Cardinal Copia standing right in front of you and drop the book. Horrified, you watch as he slowly bends and picks it up.

In the low light of the oil lamp, he looked even more frightening than usual. You had become so used to the clergy members and their painted faces that sometimes you really never noticed how sinister they were. Mostly because they were all so welcoming and kind but the Cardinal did not look welcoming and he certainly never looked kind.

“Missing the velvet-wrapped steel that much are we, dolce?” he purred as you back up, hitting the shelf. He looks at the book in his hands and then gives you a look you can't quite discern. “Vampires?” He grins then.

“Yes, well, someone stole my other book,” you say, trying to keep your voice even. “It’s not a crime to read a book.”

“It’s not,” he agrees. “Perhaps if you paid attention in class you might find something more exciting than these trashy novels.”

"Like what?”

“A real vampire.”

You scoff. ���There are no vampires.”

“You sound so certain, Sorella,” he says with a mocking tone.

You scoff again. “There aren’t. You told us months ago there weren’t any. There hadn’t been in years.”

“Ah, so you do occasionally pay attention,” he says.

You roll your eyes. Vampires were interesting. Demons that stole your livestock were not.

“But I do think you should stop scurrying around at night, Sister, you might find yourself in more danger than you expect.” He glances at your rosary, a hand lifting to tap it. “And the lord below won’t be able to help you.”

He is standing very close now and the shadows cast by the lamp makes his face look absolutely terrifying. He smiles and the light catches on his teeth. Fuck did his teeth look sharper or was your mind just playing tricks?

You take a step back but he follows, your heartbeat picking up and thundering. It’s just late and he’s trying to scare you, that’s all this is. You pat the little pocket within your habit to reassure yourself of the key but freeze.

The key.

You locked that door. Maybe he came through the archives hidden passage? But he hadn’t come from that direction, you would have seen him if he did.

“I locked the door,” you say dumbly.

Copia tilts his head to the side and watches you a moment, his body far too still before he nods slowly. “You did.” He smiles at you but it offers no comfort at all. “Scared you’re going to be eaten, little mouse?”

“No!” you say, hating that you do indeed sound like a squeaking little mouse. “No. I’m not, because you’re not a vampire.”

“Are you so sure?”

Was he really telling you he was a vampire? Surely not. But how did he get in here? Had he turned into a bat? No! A rat? You’d surely read that somewhere before. Also you had seen him talking to his rats…maybe they did really understand him! And there were the rumours that he was a vampire, but it was just something that the siblings talked about behind his back. It wasn’t real.

But the ghouls were real. Demons were real. Was it so far-fetched? You weren’t a silly heroine in one of your books. You knew about these things! You tried to think about what you had learned about vampires.

“All the things you’ve taught us,” you begin to say, gaining more confidence as the information resurfaces in your mind, “sunlight, garlic—I’ve seen you eat garlic bread on pizza night, Cardinal!”

“Si, si,” he grins and your mounting confidence flags at the sight. “These are things that I've taught you.”

Your mind halts a moment, frozen by his words. He comes closer then, his cassock brushing against you as he moves. The way he towers over you, lit by the lamp makes his strange eyes look even creepier. You swallow thickly and take another small step back but the Cardinal follows.

“Frightened, dolce?” the words come out in a drawn out purr, he sounds excited as those eyes watch you unblinking. A gloved hand reaches out and takes the lamp from your unresisting hands.

You shake your head. “No…”

“Hmm, you don’t sound so sure,” he says, voice dropping low. “Does anyone know you’re here?”

You shake your head again, “No…”

“What a pity.”

The light in the lamp is extinguished and suddenly it's pitch black in the library. It will take too long for your eyes to adjust and even then, the Cardinal doesn’t give you a moment to breathe let alone orientate yourself.

He strikes fast, enveloping you in his embrace and pinning you against the bookshelf, causing a few books to clatter to the floor. His mouth is upon your neck, lips hungrily searching for your thundering pulse. When he finds it, he latches into your skin and sucks, tongue laving and teeth nipping at the skin. You don’t know if he’s broken skin or not but you’re not really thinking straight. The sudden adrenaline rush has your head spinning and those kisses on your neck have your pussy throbbing.

“Ah, my little mouse, how delicious you taste.” He chuckles against your skin before his mouth slides across your jaw and captures your lips.

There is the taste of his paint but it’s nothing compared to the taste of him. Did vampires have some addictive saliva? You wonder idly. Pinned against the bookshelf, there is little room for much though as he presses into you. You can feel the hardness of him through his cassock and you desperately try to press against it, craving friction as his mouth devours yours.

You feel him laugh against your mouth. “Sempre così bisognoso…”

You hum with pleasure when he slides a leg between you so you can press your aching cunt against it, gaining some relief. His mouth continues to ravage yours until his lips are back against your neck, making you shiver every time his teeth graze against the skin. A leather clad hand has snaked up into your hair, pulling you closer to him. You continue to grind against his leg but it isn’t enough, you need more.

You manage to pant out a desperate sounding plea for more which is quickly answered. The burning desire within you is insistent and wanton, you feel slightly mad with lust. Before you know it, he’s pulled your knickers down and your habit is bunched around your waist, his cock there, nudging at your slick cunt before he slides into you with one quick thrust. You moan as fills you, the stretch feeling far too good and his answering growl has your gripping at his shoulders as he thrusts up into you quickly, causing even more books to topple over and clatter on the floor. Head spinning, you feel like you’re on the edge of passing out in the most delicious way. Was it the blood loss?

You don’t even care, your body is singing with carnal delight even as books dig into your back. You know you’re going to come soon and you moan out insensible nonsense as you feel your walls tighten around him. The deep coiling tension with your belly snaps as the rolling waves of pleasure wash over you. It’s an effort to stay upright but you needn’t have bothered to try as you feel his cock pull out so he can pick you up and quickly move you to one of the many wooden tables that fill the library.

Back against the cold wood, through heavy eyes you manage to see his outline in the darkness. There is only the light from the moon outside that filters down the high windows and into the library. It’s not enough to see him clearly but you can make out that eerie white eye. You shudder in anticipation.

“Will you be good for your Cardinal again, dolce?” you hear him ask, the low tone of his voice making your pussy throb.

“Yes, Your Eminence,” the words are soft and come to you too easily, you are too blissed out to care what he does next and your body is still craving more.

Again he is upon you, cock nudging between your soaked thighs until he is thrusting deep. Your back arches off the table as he fills you again, causing another fire to build deep within you. You want to reach for him, to grip and hold, but before you can even move, his hands are pressing yours against the wood, almost painfully so. But it’s nothing compared to the way his cock feels.

He moves fast and deep, and your stomach clenches in anticipation of your next release. It’s building far too quickly. The Cardinal leans over you then, his body covering yours so his mouth is once more against your neck. You don’t catch the words he mutters before his teeth bite into the soft flesh. The pain feels so good in conjunction with the way he continues to fuck into you roughly and you tilt your hips to meet him as you shatter.

Clenching hard around him and not caring if anyone in the abbey is woken by your screams, you let the pleasure take you. The Cardinal is still within, buried deep and you feel his cock within you kick and you know he is filling you, the growling noise he makes vibrating through your spent body.

It feels like an age before the heady rush has cleared. You gingerly sit up when removes himself from you. When the oil lamp is lit your eyes squint to look at Copia, whose face is smeared in paint, you know yours must be too. Eyes widening in recollection, you quickly touch your neck and look at your hand. But there is no blood on it. You touch it again, prodding at the skin with your fingertips. It feels tender and there are indents, but the skin is not broken.

Huh?

Copia smooths down the front of his cassock and raises an eyebrow as you look at him in bewilderment. “Get up, Sorella.”

“But—” you stop talking when you see him pull a small key out from within his cassock.

“You have a key.” You stare at it as you carefully stand. Where are your knickers?

"How do you think I got in here if I didn't have a key, Sorella?” He scoffs. “Fly in as a bat?"

"No…” You offer him a sheepish look. “I thought a rat."

“A rat.” His expression is blank as you try to tidy yourself up. You look around for your knickers but can’t see them. You shake your head, it wouldn’t be the first time there had been a tryst in the library.

You pull your attention back to the Cardinal. “You like rats. And they’re cute.”

Perhaps that wasn’t the best thing to say to Cardinal Copia but it’s hard to care right now. God that man fucked good. It was not fair, you think.

“Do I look ‘cute’ to you, Sorella?” he asks.

No, he did not. He looked a little insane with his painted lips smeared and his hair a mess.

“You said there were vampires,” you say petulantly, aware that he had just played you for a fool.

He starts to move for the large library doors and you follow, aware that his seed is dripping down your thighs. You need to shower. And to rethink your life choices.

“It’s called a lie," says Copia. He thinks for a moment as he pauses at the door and unlocks it. “Though you’ve had a conversation with Cardinal Georgio. He is like a vampire, the most boring man I’ve ever met. Sucks the fun out of everything.”

You nod emphatically as you lull into this strange comfortable silence with the Cardinal. Cardinal Georgio was so incredibly boring it was honestly impressive. When you’re through the door and it is once more locked, Copia grabs your arm and you turn to face him again, startled by the move. Hells, his paint really is a mess.

“Sorella,” he says.

“Yes?”

He steps close again and your heart picks up. “While I cannot drain you dry, I can do something far worse.”

“What?” you ask, horrified.

“Fail you. Do not read that trash in my lectures again.”

Sempre così bisognoso… - Always so needy…

[howlingday]

nother crack idea for jaune's exes: artoria pendragon has come to beacon to bring back her love to the safety of their little village! she knows jaune's dream is to be a hero but between his father giving him no training and him not getting into a combat school she worries about him, the only solution is to bring him back home for her to train in safety until he's ready! NO THIS HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH HER WANTING TO EAT HIS COOKING! SHE'S DOING THIS FOR NOBLE REASONS!

"I SEEK THE HAND OF JAUNE ARC!"

The classroom had gone hush with the sudden announcement of the young, blonde woman in armor. The target of this stranger had a mixture of reactions, including the reddening of his cheeks and the swiftness of his hand to his face. The woman made her way down the steps to where Jaune was sitting.

"Jaune, I command you to return home at once!"

"Please, no..." Jaune groaned.

"Excuse me, young lady, but I'm afraid you'll have to wait until class is over to-"

"BE SEATED!" Professor Port responded to this decree by immediately sitting at his desk. "It is rude to interrupt the royal business of a king."

"Aren't you a girl, though?" Cardin asked, brow raised at the intruder.

"BE STILL!" A roar proclamation erupted, forcing Cardin to fall backwards, mouth held shut. "Jaune, I command-"

"I refuse." Jaune said, knocking the woman off-guard. "Also, I'm attending Beacon."

"Jaune, who is this?" Pyrrha asked, confused by the casual way Jaune spoke to the stranger after watching her emasculate both Professor Port and Cardin Winchester. As annoying as it was, both were two of the most masculine people in the room, yet the woman shut them both down, only thrown off her high horse by the response of her team leader. "Do you know her?"

"Yeah." Jaune nodded. "She's my ex." Gasps resounded throughout the classroom. "Why is everyone so surprised?"

"Because it's you?" Weiss answered.

"Because she's so scary!" Ruby replied, putting up her hands in and waving them in defense when the woman glared at her. "Uh, not scary in a bad way!"

"What other way is scary supposed to be taken?" Blake asked.

"Er, when- when you say ex, do you mean ex-friend, or ex-lab partner, or ex-"

"Girlfriend." The woman answered. "And I refuse your claim."

"You said you were fine when we broke up." Jaune clarified. "You even said that you were thinking about travelling around a bit, too."

"Yes, and I did travel around as we discussed." She held an armored hand to her heart. "I've seen many things on my journey, but all of them paled when compared to you." This brought about a coo from the classroom, taken in by the romantic statement. It seemed she genuinely cared about him.

"You got hungry for my cooking again, didn't you?" The classroom nearly fell on their face.

"N-No! Of course not!"

"Then why did you suddenly decide to come find me here at Beacon?" Jaune held up a finger. "A good king doesn't lie to their people."

"Ghk!" The woman flinched. "I... You are correct. I did feel hungry for your cooking again."

"Uh-huh, I thought so."

"But regardless of my reasoning, I still intend to complete my mission!"

"If you're hungry, then just wait until class is over. It's almost lunchtime."

"No, that's not why I'm here." She dropped to one knee. "Jaune Arc, will you do me the honor of becoming Mr. Artoria Pendragon?"

"ABSOLUTELY NOT!" The class was in shock. Partially from the proposal by Artoria, but also from the refusal of this act by not Jaune Arc, but his partner, Pyrrha Nikos. All eyes fell on her and felt the urge to shrink back from them, but when her green eyes fell to those of the woman holding Jaune's hand, such urges dispersed. "Jaune Arc is a student of Beacon Academy and the leader of Team JNPR. I refuse to allow you to strip him of him of both titles and responsibilities just so you can eat."

"And who are you to challenge the King of Knights?" Artoria asked, standing tall against her foe.

"My name is Pyrrha Nikos, the partner of Jaune Arc." Though the word held different meanings, in this instance Pyrrha's words held them in their most simplest form. Even if Pyrrha wished they meant something deeper. "And I refuse to allow you to take him away from me."

[maturemenoftvandfilms]

A Conversation with Cardinal Dolan

CHAPTER THREE:

Featuring the Archbishop of New York, Cardinal Timothy Dolan

My name is Michael Thomas, and I'm Cardinal Timothy Dolan's lover. If you read the first two installments to this story, you learned that during an interview for the NY Times, I seduced Cardinal Dolan and found in him, after some initial reluctance, a very willing lover. One day I was home, received a telephone call. It was Cardinal Dolan and he asked if come over. He explained that he needed my help on something. I told him I'd be there right away, arriving at his mansion on Madison Avenue 30 minutes later. His receptionist greeted me, told me His Eminence was expecting me and to go right in. I knocked before opening and calling out "Your Eminence… Cardinal Dolan?"

"I'm here. Come on in Michael." Came the reply from his office. I walked in, and there he sat at his huge oak desk wearing a clerical collar with a suitcoat. I was already beginning to tent my jeans.

"Thank you for coming." He said.

I told him it wasn't a problem, and that I'm always here for him. He told me his assistant went home early due to a migraine and needed someone to help him film his segments from his show. And knowing I do something similar, he called me. Of course I agreed to help and got behind the camera and started filming. The whole time I took in his visage, and the lust was coursed through my veins. I knew he was priest. The famous Archbishop of New York, but I wanted him. Bad.

So once we were finished, I walked around to his chair and sat on his lap like I was a little kid. Before he could question this, I kissed him hard on the mouth with a little tongue thrown in. I was hot and raring to go, and sitting in the lap of this man was quite intoxicating to me.

"Michael, not here. What are you thinking?" A surprise Cardinal Dolan said. Despite his protest I could feel the substantial bulge at his crotch. I responded by putting my arms around him and burying my face in his neck. He gasped, and said "What… Martha is right out side… this isn't right."

"Relax Your Eminence, she won't come in unannounced." I said sitting in the archbishop's lap, with my arms around him taking in all of the sensations bombarding my senses. The smell of his after shave-scented skin, the soft yet firm feel of his warm body, the soft wool of the suit he was wearing, and his hard-on poking at my ass. It was all too much as I kissed him hard and placing his hand on my erection.

He quickly directed me to lock the office door. I got up from his lap and did as he asked. I came back and knelt before him in his chair, placing my hands gently on his upper legs and savoring the feel of this beautiful man. Finally, unable to take it anymore, I reached for the bulge in his pants, and he gasped in pure pleasure. I had to have his cock. I reached up and undid the bottom buttons on his clergy rabat. This gave me clear access to his crotch as I ran my hand over the bulge once more noting its size. I then unfastened his pants, unbuttoned the bottom buttons of his dress shirt exposing his belly, reached into his boxers, and extracted my 8 inches long, uncut, and beautiful prize.

Looking at him with eyes filled with love, lust, and longing, while running my hands up and down the shaft of his cock and teasing the head with my thumbs, Cardinal Dolan moaned and shivered. I finally could take no more, darted forward and took the head of his cock in my mouth, tasting the precum that was collecting there. I then went down and deep throated him, making him moan again with more intensity. I went down on him with everything I had, sucking as though my life depended on it.

"So… good…" Cardinal Dolan moaned.

I went at this for some time, noting his rapid breathing and increasing excitement. All too soon his cock burst forth with a sizable load, filling my mouth. I was in heaven, and was rewarded with several more sweet spurts of his delicious cream. Cardinal Dolan slumped back in his chair, clearly satisfied as I reached up and worked his balls trying to get every bit.

As I I stood up and jerked my boxer shorts down. My long fat dick sprung up and stood straight out from my body. It was so hard it was throbbing. Noting my strong erection, he then reciprocated, going down on it like a seasoned pro as I enjoyed watching this man in his clerical garb on his knees sucking me off. After teasing me and prolonging the excitement, I was desperate to fuck him.

"Take off your pants and underwear. Leave everything else on and bend over your desk." I said as I pulled my cock out of his mouth and pulled him to his feet.

I was never hornier than I was at that time, seeing this man in his clerical shirt and collar bending over his desk bare-assed with nothing else on but socks. I quickly removed my clothes and reached for the lube I kept in case such occasion should arise, and lubed my cock. I then started lubing his hole, putting first one finger, and then two in him. He moaned and shuddered. The time had arrived. I pressed my cock against his hole and slowly pushed in. He gasped and asked me to take it slow. I obliged, giving him time to get used to me before proceeding further. Finally, after some time I was balls deep in the archbishop's ass.

I then began to thrust slowly, eliciting sounds of pleasure. I was ecstatic as I pulled him in close and started to pick up the pace, hearing him gasp. I braced myself against him, and really got into it. He grunted in pure pleasure, and it was fascinating to feel his large body tremble with each thrust. I was consumed with lust, and became an animal. I reached around to find his erect cock, and began stroking it in time with my thrusts. Soon he came, shooting his load on the desk in front of him.

Now wanting to see his face as I fucked him, I pulled out, cleared off the desk, and lifted him on top. I told him to spread his legs and pressed myself between his legs, rubbing my erection against his cock. I was savoring the feel of him, with my arms wrapped around him and my head laying on his shoulder. I told him to wrap his legs around me, and immediately began probing with my fingers and cock for his hole. I found it, and once again penetrated him and began fucking him. His cock had come back to life, poking into my belly. I was more excited than I had ever been as I eagerly thrust into him. He was really gasping and moaning in pure pleasure as I picked up the pace.

"Take me, yes… take me, fuck me harder." Cardinal Dolan moaned.

This was all the invitation I needed as I wrapped my arms around him tighter while fucking him at an increasingly harder pace. It was so erotic, feeling his large solid body tremble with the force of each thrust. It was so erotic, feeling his large solid body tremble with the force of each thrust. He was moaning and babbling incoherently with pleasure, while his cock left trails of precum all over my belly. I continued at this pace for what seemed like eons. I never wanted this to end, ever. However all good things must come to an end, and I exploded inside him. Burst after burst of semen coated his insides and this caused a second orgasm from him, shooting a another load all over my abdomen.

We lay there breathing hard and totally spent, but satisfied.

[dewsgremlin]

I need the daily life of the ghouls in the ministry filmed as a 80s sitcom.✨

And the theme music is "Standing in my light" by Ensign Broderick.

IT'S NOT A WANT, IT'S A NEED.

[haveyouseenthisseries-poll]

[visiosatanae]

Yes I made two versions. Not because I'm biased or anything...

[edelgarfield]

death cannot harm me more than you, my beloved life (1/5)

Relationships: Astarion/The Dark Urge, The Dark Urge & Wyll, The Dark Urge & Halsin Rating: Mature Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

The group rests and recoups as their time in the Shadow-Cursed Lands draws to a close. Shadowheart and Gale consider the divine trials bestowed upon them. Halsin and Jaheira harvest the fruit of plans decades in the making. Astarion and the Dark Urge learn how to move forward, one step at a time.

Chapter Excerpt:

Outwardly, he remains infuriatingly calm. “Thank you for telling me.” His gaze never wavers and his breath remains even despite the ache in his heart. “I am glad you’re still here.” If there’s one thing Halsin has learned about you, it’s that there’s no situation dire enough that you won’t laugh about it. “Thank Astarion,” you snort inelegantly. “I was too busy being dead to be of any use.” A long-suffering sigh escapes Wyll’s nose. You turn to him with a shrug. “What? It’s true.” Wyll’s good eye lights up with a spark of frustration. “This isn’t a laughing matter,” he says severely. You roll your eyes. “As the person who died, I think I get to decide that,” you laugh easily, all your nerves suddenly gone now that you can slip into the comfort of a familiar mask. As macabre as it may be, your reaction isn’t an altogether uncommon one. Perhaps a couple centuries ago, Halsin may have found it strange. But laughing at one’s pain is far easier than acknowledging just how much it aches.

Read on AO3

[gravehags]

the one who comes (richly endowed)

Pairing: Cardinal Copia x f!Reader (Curator!Reader)

Rating: EXPLICIT, MDNI

Tags: rough sex, cum eating, copia in that goddamn white suit, oral (m receiving, through pants), semi public sex, ghoul voyeurism, masturbation, curator reader being evil

Words: 3,459

Summary: A series of sartorial events.

a/n: i am quite literally always saying how i'm going to suck copia off through those white lululemon leggings so you know. here you go.

~~~

“The eh, Ministry tailor wants to go over some of the tour outfits tomorrow afternoon. Care to join me?”

You yawn wide enough to pop your jaw and snuggle into the side of your lover, fingers raking through his abundant chest hair. He’s got a book propped up on his belly and his reading glasses perched on his long nose as he pauses every few moments to notate something in the margins or underline. 

“Yes please,” you say, leaning forward to place a kiss to each of the entwined 6s tattooed on his freckled pectoral. The action makes him chuckle, eyes briefly leaving the page to flick to you.

“You promise not to get too jealous?” he asks innocently, turning the page, “I mean these are the outfits my adoring fans will be seeing me perform in while you’re stuck here at the abbey. Who knows what kind of mischief I could get up to?”

You snort and sharply pinch his nipple, causing him to let out a ridiculously rat-like squeak.

“You’re not the only one who could get up to mischief,” you coo, “When the Cardinal’s away, the curator will play, hmm? I bet Terzo isn’t busy these days…”

Copia lets out a growl and removes his glasses, tossing them carelessly on the nightstand along with his book.

“What did you say?”

You’re trying so hard to bite back the evil grin that threatens to spread across your face as you lean away from your lover to flop onto your back and stare at the bed canopy above you.

“I think it’s only fair that I be allowed to seek out some ah…diversion in your absence. Particularly when you’re going to have your ‘adoring fans’ crawling all over you. Tell me, which of the Papas is best at eating pus–”

You don’t get to finish the sentence because Copia has rolled on top of you and situated himself between your legs.

“Dolcezza,” he leans in to growl in your ear, making a delightful shiver run up your spine, “Do not toy with me. Do not make me keep you tied to my tour bus bed with your face in the pillow and your ass in the air to use as I please every night, eh?”

You giggle warmly.

“I don’t know, sounds kind of ideal to me,” you purr, “To be so deliciously, divinely stuffed with your cum over and over after every show. What is it the siblings call me? ‘The Cardinal’s mistress’? And what is it the ghouls call me? Ah yes, ‘the Cardinal’s mate.’ Would you mate with me in that tour bus, amore? Loud and feral, for all your ghouls to hear? I think they’d like to wat–ah!”

Flinging back the covers and sitting on his haunches, he grabs you and roughly flips you over. 

“Piccola provocazione mia,” he sighs, rucking your nightgown over your hips and bending your knees, “If you wanted my cock so badly tonight–” he says, and you hear him yank down his sleep pants behind you, “--all you had to do was ask.”

You giggle into the pillow as he drags the head of his cock through your slick folds.

“Much more fun this–ah!--way! Fuck, Copia!”

He’s bottomed out inside you before you can even finish your sentence and places a firm hand between your shoulder blades as he begins to roughly fuck you. You turn your head to the side to get some air and so he can hear every noise that comes out of your mouth.

“You–ah–want it like this? Bent over and spread open for anyone to watch? To listen? Tesoro, we should recruit you for–hngh–sex rituals. Who knew a sweet girl like you liked–ah–an audience?”

The snap of his hips against yours is ruthless and the sound of his balls slapping against you with each thrust drives another moan from your mouth.

“Fuck, Copia, right there! Feel so good baby, l-love it when you u-use me, ah!”

His hand on your back presses you further into the mattress, causing you to arch your back even more sharply. The new angle has starbursts exploding across your vision.

“Sei mio,” he grunts, his grip on your hip bruising, “And until the m-moment I leave for t-tour I’ll–ah–gladly remind you, s-si?”

“Yours, yours, yours,” you chant, pushing back onto his cock to meet his thrusts, “Mmm fuck, Copia, make me yours!”

His fingers abandon your hip to reach around and slide through your folds, moaning at how wet you are. When he brushes against your clit, you let out a sharp whine.

“Copia, please! Don’t stop, don’t stop, oh fuck!”

Your cunt spasms around him and you cry out as he brings you over the edge, his name on your lips. 

“Ragazza brava mia,” he moans, “My perfect girl, so good for me. Cazzo, I’m gonna cum, amore. Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

When he pulls out of you, you whine at the loss but crane your head as far back as you can to watch him feverishly stroke his cock.

“Come on baby,” you pant even though your neck is killing you. “Cum on me. Mark me up.”

The sight of his fist rocketing along his reddened cock, slick with your juices has you grinding into the mattress, desperate for another release. When he cums with a shout, covering your lower back in spurts of his seed your body sags into the bed. You can hear his rapid breaths as he wrings out every last drop onto you and finally lets go to survey his handiwork. He drags his forefinger through the mess and you turn your head, opening your mouth obediently. When the warm digit meets your tongue, the salt of him on your tastebuds, you close your mouth around it and suck eagerly.

“What a deviant I have made of a sweet little virgin,” he marvels and you slide off his finger to swallow with a smile.

“Think I was a deviant even when I was a virgin,” you murmur, “You just encouraged it. But some of the fantasies I had…”

“Oh?”

“Get me a rag to clean this up then I’ll tell you all about them, my love.”

He does as he’s told, wiping up his seed and rejoining you in bed so you can assume your earlier positions. You make a bet with yourself about how many times the two of you are going to hunger for one another that night.

As always, both of you exceed your expectations.

–

“What do you think about this? Amore?”

“Hmm?” you look up from the binderful of sketches you’ve been browsing while your beloved and the tailor conversed in rapid Italian, “Think about what?”

Copia stands on a round platform surrounded by mirrors. The tailor leans up against the door and gestures to the Cardinal.

“It’s a good suit, no?”

You smile. Of course it’s a good suit. It’s the suit Copia was wearing the night of your first date. The night where the two of you grinded on each other and made an absolute mess of those trousers. Those lovely, snug trousers and the curve of–

“Amore?” Copia asks, and you see his mustache twitch in amusement.

“It’s great! I love it, did you um…change the material of the pants? From the original suit I mean.”

“Si, si,” the tailor nods, “the Cardinal requires pants with more stretch to allow for vigorous movement on stage.”

Mmm vigorous movement.

“So he’ll be wearing either of his cassocks and uh…this black suit?”

Once again the tailor nods.

“I also have made prototypes in two other colors. Would you like to see those?”

He’s asking Copia too but you interject to answer for him.

“Yes, please.”

“They’re in garment bags in the dressing room, Cardinal.”

The Cardinal gives the tailor a tight smile before turning to you and giving you a look. You smile and shrug. Better him than you, and the way he fucked you last night, you almost collapsed on the floor this morning when you got out of bed while he chuckled, the bastard. He deserves a little torture. A few more minutes pass and he comes out and does a little pose. He looks resplendent in a cardinal red version of the suit and you know you’re grinning like an idiot when he steps onto the platform, preening.

“Oh the red is good, signore,” you tell the tailor, who smiles pleasantly at you. “I think I like it even better than the black. What do you think, my love?”

Copia’s preoccupied with making stupid little muscle man poses in the mirror and you have to stuff your fist in your mouth to muffle your guffaw.

“Huh-wha…what was that, amore?”

“I said, how do you feel about the red?”

“Oh eh, si. Very nice. Vibrant. Is that all?”

“There is one more suit in the dressing room, Cardinale,” the tailor gently reminds him and Copia turns to give you a deep bow before retreating to his cubicle. You hear him disrobe and hang up the red suit followed by unzipping the last garment bag. There’s a shuffle of fabric and Copia makes an odd sound.

“I…I, eh don’t think I’ll come out for this one.”

You look to the tailor nonplussed, who looks to you, equally perplexed.

“Isn’t it just the same suit in a different color, hon?”

“Si, it’s just that it’s eh…” he makes one of his noises, “It’s…ah fuck it.”

When he opens the door and peeks his head out you smile encouragingly. That smile slowly drops as he slides out of the dressing room to stand on the platform, replaced with something more awestruck and hungry. True to the tailor’s word, it is the same suit, however this one is in snow white. He looks incredibly elegant but that’s not what occupies your mind - what occupies your mind is the hefty and defined curve of his cock and balls in those sinfully tight white pants.

“Well, what do you think?”

You let out a lewd gurgle and now it’s the tailor’s turn to muffle his laughter.

“Exactly. I don’t think I’ll be going with this one, signore.”

The string of filth going through your mind is interrupted by his words.

“What?! No!” you splutter, flapping your hands. “No, this one absolutely stays.” 

“Amore,” Copia stage whispers, “You can see my whole dick.”

“Yeah, and balls,” you loudly whisper back, “Which is exactly why you’re keeping it.”

“Sarto, will you eh, excuse me and the signorina for a moment per favore?”

The tailor silently nods with an amused expression and steps out of the room, snapping the door shut behind him.

“Dolcezza, I am supposed to be on stage in this outfit. I’m supposed to sing while wearing this. You want me to look like a…a Chippendale at these rituals?”

You cough to hide your laughter.

“Beloved, may I be frank with you?”

“Please.”

“People come to these rituals to be tempted, right? To dip their toe into what the Ministry has to offer? Copia I am being so honest with you right now when I say that this–” you gesture to what’s on display at the juncture of his thighs, “--in combination with the music? Baby, you’ll be beating new recruits off with a stick. Might as well have a sign-up booth outside the venue. If I were some wide-eyed, easily influenced young person and I walked into one of your rituals to hear you sing about being the one who comes richly endowed and coming into the daughters of men and whatnot? My love, I would swear myself to Satan for one corn chip if you asked.”

Copia nods slowly, considering.

“You…have a point, dolcezza. Kind of makes me wish I hadn’t met you until I became head of the Ghost project so I could see you front row at a ritual…oh the things I would do to you.”

“And you still can,” you murmur, setting the sketch binder aside, “Keep this outfit and I promise you I’ll visit you backstage at one of your shows. I’ll surprise you.”

“Done,” he says, slapping his thigh. A soft knock sounds through the room and the tailor opens the door.

“Everything good?” he asks, eyes flicking between the two of you.

“Molto bene, signore,” you say, “He’s keeping the outfit.”

“Ah, good, good,” the tailor smiles, clapping his hands together, “I was hoping you’d say that because I have a couple accessories for this one.”

You look to Copia, intrigued. The tailor produces a hat box and removes the lid, handing Copia a very dashing black fedora with a white band. The Cardinal places it on his head, looking devastatingly handsome as he poses in the many mirrors. The tailor disappears for a moment and then reappears to hand Copia a black cane with a silver snake handle.

“What do you think, signorina?” the tailor asks, hands behind his back. Copia turns to you and with an evil grin, slides the length of the cane along his cock then rocks his hips against it. Your jaw loosens and your eyes glaze over.

“Amore, the tailor asked you a question?”

“Hard. I mean good! Good! It’s all very good, thank you for indulging me, signore. Beautiful work but I expected nothing less from the man that makes his cassocks. You know, the way the fascia cinches him in and the fabric falls over his as–assets. Uh…”

The tailor coughs, hiding a smile with his fist.

“Grazie, signorina. And grazie, Cardinale. I’ll work on making duplicates of these designs at once.”

Copia nods and steps off the platform to return to the dressing room. A beat passes when you get up and scuttle over to the tailor.

“Is there any way you can make the pants um. Tighter?”

“I heard that.”

—

His veins are on fire, thrumming as he makes his walk off the stage post-encore. The crowd loves him. They love him. The little rat bastard Cardinal makes the beautiful young creatures of the crowd scream and profess their adoration. He’s feeling elated, high as he passes by two roadies and works his way backstage when he hears a low whistle come from a corner near some tour crates. When he looks he double takes because surely he must be dreaming. Surely his eyes must be playing tricks on him as he sees his amore slowly emerge from behind a box wearing that little half-smile you sport when getting up to mischief. Before he even realizes he’s doing it he’s running over to you - damn his sore muscles in need of a long shower - and into your open arms.

“Surprised?” you ask as you throw your arms around his neck. 

Immediately he buries his nose into your loose hair and a shudder rips through him as he’s enveloped in your scent. His hands roam your back, sliding down further to cup your ass and pull you into him.

“Mmm insatiable as always,” you mutter into his shoulder, pulling away just enough to look him in the eyes. The adrenaline of the evening matched with the way you’re gazing at him makes his cock stir. Your lips twitch upwards and eyebrow arches.

“Amore,” he growls, grinding against your belly, “Come to my dressing room so we can–”

“What’s wrong with right here?” you ask innocently, gesturing to the empty nook stacked with gear boxes. “I came such a long way for you, I simply can’t waste another moment.”

When you begin to lower yourself to your knees, his head tips back in a groan. Cazzo, he missed this. When he reopens his eyes he spots something in the darkness further behind you - a slender form in black and a flash of a silver mask.

Dewdrop.

He should tell you, should grab you by the shoulders and scurry away with you somewhere more private but he thinks about that day months ago when you said you wanted to be watched. Copia’s head jerks in a nod in the ghoul’s direction and he sees his mouth fall open in a pant. You’re massaging the meat of his thighs in your perfect little hands when he looks down at you.

“You’re distracted,” you murmur, blinking up at him, “Guess you haven’t missed me much after all.”

“Dolcezza, no!” Copia breathes, gloved hand stroking your hair, “Come up here and I’ll show you exactly how much I missed you.”

“No, no,” you say airily, and for a horrible moment he thinks he’s seriously hurt your feelings but then you look up and give him a sinister little grin that makes him throb.

“Did they like it?” you ask, trailing your fingertips over his clothed cock.

“L-Like it?”

“The white suit,” you say patiently, dragging your fingernails down his thigh. “How did they look up at you tonight, my love? Were they hungry for you?” 

You lean in to place a chaste kiss to his bulge that almost makes his knees give out.

“Will they go home tonight and fuck themselves to the thought of you?”

When you drag the flat of your tongue across his balls and up his cock he whimpers pathetically.

“I-I don’t know.”

“Hmmm,” you ponder, thumb rubbing the head of him through his pants. There’s a sizable wet stain on them now from where he’s been leaking pre, “I was out there, you know. Watching. Saw the way you thrusted and fell to your knees and grinded on that cane. Saw the way they all panted for you. And you know what I was thinking the whole time, my love?”

He’s breathing heavy through his nose.

“No, a-amore.”

“I was thinking about how much I wanted to do this.”

You lean in and wetly latch onto his balls through the thin fabric and his hand flies to the back of your head. You’re giggling around him and the vibrations make him whimper.

“Fuck, amata mia, yes,” he groans, rocking his hips into your touch. Slowly you drag your tongue along his shaft and even through the material he knows you’re tracing the thick vein. When Copia tilts his head back in a moan, his half-lidded eyes fall on the ghoul in the shadows. Dew is still mostly obscured but even the darkness can’t hide the way his strong hand is sliding along the ridges of his hardened cock. His head is tilted downwards towards you - drinking in the way you look with your thighs splayed in that pretty sundress, your mouth suckling on the head of his Cardinal’s cock. Copia knows he won’t last much longer - not with how worked up he already was from the ritual and with their audience - and he looks down at you adoringly.

“Close, tesoro. Gonna–ah–gonna make me cum in my pants?”

Your lips pull off him for only a moment to give him a wide smile.

“Just like New Year’s Eve. Remember?” You place a hand on his bulge and begin stroking it. “The champagne burning in our veins? The way the curve of your cock felt nudging my clit through those red lace panties you like? How your fingers gripped me hard enough to bruise?”

“Si, si, I remember, I remember, amore,”

“You told me to make a mess of myself. I should have put those panties in your pocket but we already know how you like to steal them yourself, hmm?”

Copia makes a noise somewhere between a gasp and a whine as his cheeks are flooded with red and his hips buck into your touch.

“Dirty old man,” you say with a grin, “Can’t help yourself can you, Cardinal? On stage, in my bed, right now under my hand and mouth–”

He feels the pressure building in his spine as you rub him frantically through his pants.

“--while your ghoul watches us.”

The moan that comes out of him is loud and long, hips rutting against your hand as he cums in ropes and soaks the white fabric. You’re cooing praise at him from your spot on the floor as he takes shuddering breaths. When he looks up, Dewdrop is gone but there’s no mistaking what’s spattered on the floor where he stood. Did you plan this? How could he have known? How could you have known? How–

“Hey,” you say, placing a little kiss to the wet stain on his crotch, “Help me up?”

With a start he bends over and lifts you gently by the elbows until you’re standing and stretching. Overcome with adoration, he grabs you by the back of the head and slots his lips against yours. His ragazza bella. His mistress. His perfect mate.

“So,” you say once you finally manage to pull away from him, “Show me that dressing room?”

[cardinal-crossing]

Hello! It’s been a while, and I’m not quite back yet, still have a little bit to go before graduation and I’m slowly trucking along, but I did want to start posting some miscellaneous doodles here and there.

This doodle is of my Baseball AU! It's definitely not a projection of when my best friend stole a home run from me at one of our practices, my first one of the season. Enjoy!

[asterkurayami]

How to Identify Hanging items from Miniverse ~ Make it Mini ~ Lifestyle ~ Home Series 1

Touch the recessed portion of a wrapped ball. There should be a round raised dot. This is a little hook to can hang the finished product on.

Cardinal Birdhouse!

[nocterish]

You want to play with the sire?

[Imperator] [Nihil] [Primo] [Secondo] [Terzo] [Cardinal]