#since then the lamb made the robes longer

[miss-conner3]

En Español: Aquí

“Maid Dress”

Follow up on this (OuO)/

We end the year with some maids XD

Inspired by the idea that since we can change the color. That would work for everyone, ¿right? (owo)

Hope you like it.... ¡And Happy New Year to everyone!

¡See you! 6(>uO)9

P.S.: Not important, but it's my birthday too, so happy birthday to me hehe

[eraenaa]

The Prince's Prize

Aemond Targaryen x Riverlady Reader Tag List

Synopsis: After his victories in the Riverlands, Prince Aemond Targaryen sought for a trophy— his spoils of war. He sought for you, the daughter of the lord who hosted him whilst he wagged his war.

Warnings: Barely any plot; just smut, Mature, 18+, Oral Sex (F & M receiving), Fingering, P in V sex, Choking, Not Proofread 

Word Count: 2, 720

Inspired by my Original Fic on AO3, Rivers of Fire

“The… the prince calls for you in his chambers, my lady.” Your handmaid hesitated to say as you were readying yourself for bed. It was a scandal to say the least, the prince humiliating you in a hall where a banquet commenced, all of his family’s supporters in the Riverlands in attendance and witnessing as he declared that you will be his “Beautiful, shinning prize.” As if you were some common whore. But you suppose you were one now. You could no longer keep him at bay. For weeks, you’ve felt his eye linger, his presence growing nearer and nearer. You’ve tried your earnest effort to avoid him— to keep him at arm’s length, but the prince could no longer be denied. He wanted you, and he had made it known. Subjecting you to a fate that no maiden nor respectable noblewoman should ever be subjected to. You were now Prince Aemond’s bedmate. You are now his trophy. His spoils of war.

You gave your handmaid a nod and took in a shaky breath. Wiping your clammed palms against the silk of your robe. Your graceful steps felt heavy as you walked down the halls of your home, your body leading you to the way of the prince. You took in a deep breath to calm your heart at what the night will bring. Your trembling hands managed to knock on the wooden door, waiting for a reply. “Come in,” you hear the prince’s silky voice; the voice that had been haunting you ever since he’d arrived in the Riverlands. You hesitantly opened the wooden door, your steps uncertain and your gaze on the floor as you entered his chambers. 

Aemond watched as you demurely stood by the door. Eyes shielded from him, frame rigid in uncertainty. “Come here,” He ordered as he sat on an armchair, he had been battling himself throughout the night if he should ask for your presence in his chambers. But he could no longer be patient, after moons of restraint, he needed to have you. You took slow steps and stood before the prince. He motioned for you to step closer, to stand at arm’s length and you mustered all of the courage in you to do as he asked. To be obliging as your father had instructed to save you and your land from the destruction of the prince when things do not go his way. A sacrificial lamb of your house to appease a dragon.

Aemond hummed and let his fingers feel the fabric of your robe, the silk fabric hiding you from him. “Take it off,” he ordered. Watching as your eyes grow wide and your cheeks flush. Aemond clenched his jaw as you started to do as he said. He knew it was wrong to take advantage of his position of power. He knew it was damnable to take a maiden to his bed and dishonor her— the gods will condemn him, but he could not find care. The moment he saw you in walls of your home, he knew he wanted you. Your indifference and defiance did not matter— you had been resisting him, denying him, but the prince will always find a way to get what he wanted. 

Your robe fell to the floor, leaving you in your shift, but the prince still nodded his head and motioned for you to take it off. The cover that your night dress provided pooled to the floor and left you completely exposed to the One-Eyed Prince. 

Aemond took in a sharp breath as his eye scanned the whole of your body. His cold, callused hands place themselves on your hips. Indulging himself with the feel of your soft skin that was riddled with gooseflesh at his touch. You took a sharp breath and you feel the prince nuzzle his face on your torso, his nose caressing your skin and taking a deep breath to savor your scent. Your stomach pitted as the prince finally stood, and your eyes locked. His hold was still on your waist as he guided you toward his bed. His hands trailing upwards as the back of your knees hit the soft fabric of his mattress. He guided you to sit, and you gazed up with his as his hand ghosted upon your bosom. His eye held trepidation but as you bit your lip in anticipation, the lilac of the prince’s gaze turned dark and he finally let his cold hand cup the flesh of your tit. Feeling your softness and ampleness and resisting the urge as the simple act of touching you already brought him pleasure. 

You swallowed thickly as your eyes gazed downward and saw the prominent bulge in the prince’s trousers as he continued to fondle your breasts. His finger pinching the sensitive bud, causing a jolt of pleasure to run through your body; pushing your luscious thighs together as you felt your sex grow with shameful need. You dismayed upon yourself— you should not feel pleasure by his touch. You should not enjoy his focused and wanting gaze. You must never relish at the fact of being a prince’s whore. But as a moan finally left your lips, you knew you could not abide by common sense and propriety.

Aemond smirked when he finally heard the pleasured moan escape your lips and as he saw the way your thighs pressed together. “Such a beauty you are… you have been tempting me since I’ve had arrived.” You frown at the prince’s words. “I—I had no intentions to do so my prince— believe me, it was unconsciously done,” You said and Aemond hummed and let his hand trail upwards to cup your warm cheek. “Unconscious or not… you have still tempted me.” He said. You palms growing cold as the prince sank on his knees so you two would be at eye level. “You have tempted your prince to sin and desire a maiden…” A chill ran through you as his thumb swiped across your plump lips. 

No reply was made as the prince captured you into a kiss. Finally, claiming the lips he had been dreaming of for moons. The prince snaking in his tongue and smirking at himself as he had correctly guessed that kissing you would feel like heaven. His hand took yours and guided it to the bulge that was angrily straining in his trousers. “Do you feel what you do to me, little flower? You had your prince desire you… to ache for you so, and you must be the one to relieve me of this torment.” The prince rasped against your lips. You closed your eyes and let out a moaned breath as his lips nuzzled into your neck, and his hand guided you to stroke his length faster. 

You gasped as the prince moved you to lie down. You raised your head to look at him with wide eyes as you were sprawled exposed in his bed, and he simply looked at you with desire and a smirk on his thin lips that were growing swollen by the minute. “So fucking pretty.” He said as he was still on his knees. His hands found your thighs and forced them to part. “My prince—“ You called as you were surprised that he’s subject himself to such actions. But your call was left on deaf ears as the prince was in a trance as your glistening cunt was presented before him. 

You let a small startled sound leave your throat as you feel Prince Aemond’s lips place a light kiss before your sex. The prince enjoying the way you tensed before him— the way you tasted before him. It took moments before you finally succumbed to the pleasure that you tried hard to deny— that you felt entirely guilty to feel. You were defiantly resisting to acknowledge how skilled the prince was. Lapping and sucking your cunt, his nose nuzzling against your pearl whilst his tongue darted in and out of your entrance making you cry out in sheer pleasure. 

“You were so quiet the days before… who knew I could make yo scream so loudly,” Aemond smirked as he gazed up at you whilst his fingers continued the torment on your nubbin. Admiring the way your back was arched and how your lips parted with the sound of the pleasure he gives. “Why have you resisted me for so long, little flower? Why have you denied us of such pleasure?” Aemond returned his lips to your cunt, palming himself as he tasted your essence; sweet and tart and entirely mouthwatering for him. Aemond groaned against your cunt as he felt your soft hands grab the roots of his hair, making him feel the pleasure you were lost in. 

“My prince— I—“ You mumbled as you were blinded and dazed, uncertain of what was to come. The teaching of your septa only enlightens you about the pleasure the man would feel in consummation, you were not aware that women would feel pleasure as well. “You will call me by my name when you come,” The Prince ordered and his hold on your thighs are tighter, his eye drew upward and watch you mindlessly nod as your enchanting eyes rolled back. 

“Aemond— Aemond!” You cried as a flick of his tongue had you peaking and writhing on his face. The prince only watched still as your cunt writhed against him, his skin scattering with gooseflesh at the way you called and cried his name. 

You were still dazed from your high when you noticed the prince pulling you sit once more. His lips that tasted of you against your own. His cold, callused hand around your neck whilst the other guided your hand back to his length once more. Lost in pleasure, you boldly slipped your hand in his trousers. Letting your skin finally touch him, a stifled groan left his lips. Aemond parted your lips to remove his tunic, your eyes following every movement he made while your hand were still in his trousers, striking his pulsating and large length. “Remove my trousers, little flower,” He ordered as your eyes where on his toned torso. Aemond watched in dark desire as you slowly nodded your head and removed your hand from his length. Your soft fingers brushing with the skin of his waist and your lip between your teeth. 

Your eyes widened when his length sprang free. Gods, he was beautiful. You never thought that you would find something so phallic to be so… appealing. Your hand gripped the base of it once more and your eyes locked with the prince who watched you expectantly. “Put it in your mouth,” The prince gritted. You froze at his order, uncertain how to do as he asked. Aemond took hold of your chin and his thumb pried your mouth to part. “Put it in.” He ordered, voice deeper and harsher. You licked your lips and took the tip of him into your mouth. Startled as the prince let out a groan leave his lips and his hips thrusting forward, urging you to take more of him. 

You didn’t realized that hearing the prince spew out moans and groaning your name would elicit such a reaction from you. That his sounds of pleasures made your core twist painfully yet pleasurably so; that your nipples would pebble and tighten uncomfortably yet you enjoyed it. You crossed your legs as you feel your essence drip down and your cunt wanting to feel the pleasure that a dragon prince could provide. 

You gasped as the prince removed his length that had been hitting the back of your throat. Aemond dipping down and placing his hand around your neck, kissing your lips, uncaring that it had been recently subjected to pleasure his cock. “I do not know if I liked you better defiant or obliging, little flower,” Aemond whispered against your lips and you crossed your legs tighter as his hold on your neck strained your breathing— oddly adding to your desires.Aemond pushed you to lie down once more, laying his wight on top of you, his length resting on your thigh and you could not decide if you felt fear or excitement. 

Fear that after this moment you will no longer be a maiden— that you’d be tarnished and be the Prince’s whore. Excitement that this moment would bring you pleasure— that you would have your desires tamed. 

Heavy breathing, whines, and groans mixed as the prince tore his way through you. Your legs wrapped around his waist and your nails digging on his shoulders. “Your highness, it’s too much— I can’t,” You cried as the pain did not wash away and pleasure was far from reach. “Aemond. You will call me Aemond.” The prince grunted as you clenched around his length. He watched as the tears spilled from your eyes and your breast heaved in pain. Was it so bad that he enjoyed the sight of it? That he relished at the idea that he was the one to take your maiden head. That in the eyes of men and the laws of the gods, you were now bound to him. 

Aemond was slow with his actions, waiting for you to grow accustomed to him. Waiting for you to bless his ears with your pleasure moans once more. The prince dipped his head down and captured your tit into his mouth whilst his finger drew circles on your cunt. It was entirely difficult for the prince to hold back— with the way you clenched around him and the way your hand would grip his hair every time he dared to move… he could’ve come right then and there— filling you with his seed and ruining you to another degree. 

But he could do no such thing— not yet at least. He needed to feel how your cunt would tighten around him as you came. He needed to hear the way you would scream his name as he filled you with his seed. He needed to feel you in pleasure more than he needed himself to feel pleasure. 

“A-Aemond,” You called when finally the excruciating pain faded away and was replaced by the pleasure you felt moments ago. “Oh…” You sighed as his length was met with a spot in you that made your toes curl, and your eyes roll back. Never had you felt so full— so oddly complete. The prince tucked his head in the crook of your neck and would nip your salted skin that glistened with a thin layer of sweat. “You’re mine, little flower,” Aemond grunted as his thrust grew deeper and your moans louder. “Say that you are mine.” Aemond removed his head from the crook of your neck to look at the state of you. 

Your tits bouncing with each of his thrust. Your eyes rolled back, and your hands fisted the sheets. Your lips parted and spewing his name in satisfaction. Aemond placed his hands around your neck once more, delighting in the way that your cunt clenched tighter around him. Surprised and thankful that you’d enjoyed roughness, for that was the only thing the prince had ever known. “Say it.” He spat and you cried as his thrusts were harder deeper. “I’m… I’m yours!” You cried and took hold of his hand that was around your throat, urging him to grip tighter as you were nearing your peak. “Fucking hell,” The prince said harshly as he realized you wanted him to grip you tighter when his cock could barely move by the way you clamped around him. 

“So fucking perfect,” The prince praised and shifted his weight for your lips to meet. “Come for me, my flower… come for your prince,” Aemond cooed against your lips, and you were quick to obey as you finally let your tightened core loose. The prince was quick to follow you in pleasure, him grunting your name as he filled your cunt with his seed. Uncaring of the possibility that he’d create a bastard for himself. “I should have claimed my spoils of war sooner,” The prince mumbled and kissed you again. Your brain battling with your body as you could not find care that he’d call you his spoils of war— that you were reduced to his prize.

If you enjoyed the premise of this story, you might like the inspiration for it!

[midnightanxietytm]

Magnum Opus

a/n: Baaah... Anyways. I've been chewing on the idea of a swap au too, would yall like that?

Summary: In which Narinder is a prodigy from a family of artists, famous for his marble sculptures portraying death, but he decides to try something new...

word count: 981

“There’s something so mournful about his recent pieces…”

“Well of course, they are all about death.”

“I know that, silly, but the previous ones felt more like an exploration of violence, like a scream of rage. This one, for example, just feels like…Like silent tears, like visiting a grave.”

“Hm… I think I see it…”

He tunes out the conversation, for his own good, after that.

Narinder knows something has changed about his art, and it infuriates him. A few months ago he had his worst artist block so far, something so devastating he even considered trying his youngest brother Leshy’s erratic approach and simply hit his marble as hard as he could like Leshy did with his canvases.

But before he did, he had a breakthrough; he woke up in the middle of the night, ran to his studio like a madman and feverishly started to sketch a new piece, then another, and another, until he drew half an exposition in under a week, bareilly eating, drinking or sleeping in between each sketch and another, just to make sure it would all be perfect before he even laid a mallet on the stone.

Then he worked tirelessly for almost two years, and alas, he made his new exhibition…

But it still wasn’t perfect.

The critics were right, something had changed in his tone. He always had a preference for putting a focus on death, his first ever exposition had been an installation in which red stained glass was arranged so when the lights came on, the viewer would look like they were splotched with blood. Looking back on it, it was too pretentious for his current taste, but it was a good first, something that set him apart in the scene; it screamed; I am here, I am death, I am violent. It was his branding.

That’s why his current viewers spotted the difference so quickly. Marble had been his medium for years now, death had been his main theme for even longer, yet he never managed to sculpt such sorrowful expressions; he had made pain before, agony, anger, but he never managed to convey such emptiness before. It should be a feat, should be an accomplishment to be celebrated with one of  Heket’s famous dinners.

But it’s not what he wanted.

Shamura always told him that his need for perfection could be his downfall, bold talk from someone whose style of choice was photorealism. He had ignored their advice, but now Narinder could feel another block coming.

“I told you so…” It’s what Shamura says when he goes to them for a debrief of the exposition. They pour him some tea anyway, and Narinder sits down at the neat table of their studio.

“I know…” He rolls his eyes. “Can you say something else at least?”

“I think you should rest from the pressure.  Don’t make an exposition this year, nor the next one, only make something if it’s for you, and you only.” They say to him with a smile, and Narinder sighed again.

“Something for myself…” He mutters, staring at his sketchbook. Narinder had been born in art, by the time he was ten, Shamura was already a big name and Kallamar was well on his way too, and he had always been a creative child, especially encouraged by Shamura.

But his first piece was put out when he was just eighteen, and he had been putting on expositions since then, so how long was it since he did something that was just his? The page in front of him is dreadfully empty.

Maybe he would make something peaceful, this time…

A lamb, so unlike him…

Closed eyes, tender smile…

No, no not that, scratch it, throw it away.

Open eyes, dilated pupils, yes, that’s better…

Mouth starting to curl up, but they aren’t smiling yet.

Laid down on their side, arm under their head, nude- 

No, not nude… Light robes, almost sheer ones, fit for mid-spring, fit for basking under the sun.

A sketch is born. And from there, Narinder knows he can rest, he closes his sketchbook and goes to sleep. This one is his, there’s no need to rush.

Narinder starts with a bust, before he starts on the final piece.

He wants to get the face right, wants to capture that lovely face in just the right expression… People say the mind can’t come up with faces it hasn’t seen before, and Narinder wonders as he carefully carves their beautiful visage, where he had ever seen such features, he wondered if he would even manage to capture it; they had such a complexity to their expressions; a softness that covers such mysteries, such loving eyes, yet filled with both rage and sadness, were they a mirror of his own? Or were they a better version of him? Maybe they were nothing like him at all, but instead what he desired most.

The bust is made during a month and a half of almost meditative work; he works slowly, he struggles to get the texture of their wool right, takes him almost a week, but he managed to come up with something, and he’s satisfied with it as it frames that beautiful face, curling in the softest way.

But finally, he goes to sleep that night knowing he’s one step closer to perfection.

And he dreams.

“My my!” Exclaims the melodious voice in his head, sounding delighted. “It’s been so long…” A figure steps out of the fog in his mind, Narinder still feels incorporeal, floating, but he still feels himself purr as The Lamb looks at him with loving eyes. “I was right to bless you, all those years ago, you probably don’t even remember…” They chuckle, and Narinder doesn’t even really care for remembering, just now is perfect, they are perfect. “Oh! You’re already waking up?! Don’t worry, I’ll visit you soon…”

a/n: I was planning to make this longer but i didn't really know how to take it further. Nari is just whipped and he's an artist. Couldn't be me lmao

edit b4 I sleep: just realized thats just about godspousal lol. I sneaked witchcraft in my fic and didn't even notice till it was posted

[howlsnteeth]

hi, just wanted you to know that if you ever wanted to like. interest-dump about cotl and your thoughts about the lore/storyline and stuff as ive seen you show in your art, id read PARAGRAPHS. im so curious and love to hear about people's interest in game/story/media lore and the interpersonal relationships within the universe!!! - from an autistic system who has loved your art since like. forever. (u can call us moss)

okay hi moss :3

i'm kind of due for an infodump on my cotl headcanons, so! i'll try be somewhat concise because this is going to be a long post anyway rip. i drew some pictures :D

(i can't really think of any warnings to give outside of usual cotl themes/killed race/dying/blood/etc but let me know)

obviously watching the destruction of your entire race is traumatic as fuck, also because it likely took a few weeks or months to achieve. so they died pretty underweight/weak bodied/pretty shut down. the bishops are gone by the time lamb is revived by toww, and their body hadn't quite made it to a 'body pit' (or food pit). still, they get Their Bell from another of their race on the way out. probably weren't thinking about it too hard and just desperately wanted to grab something while their eyes burned in their sockets and this red crown fit like molded clay in their hand. my lamb has a little notch out of their left ear which was caused while escaping, which ends up never healing because of a few reasons but mostly because i like it.

over the course of the game/story they start to slowly physically change. after revival it takes scars a Long time to fade, considering lamb is technically a walking corpse, and also because of their affiliation with Death (narinder, who has similar i'll mention later). they get dark marked lines under their eyes from that classic 'bleeding eyes' action during rituals/etc. their ears but especially horns get longer and sharper. their way of coping is similar to most lambs, jokes and pulled punches.

by the end of the 'main game/toww fight,' they've already made their choice, and start flexing their control/communication with the red crown itself. it gets harder for toww to view through it, and lamb gets somewhat intoxicated with the idea of an ultimate revenge, having killed all the other bishops. they've done everything they can to stop their cult members noticing signs of weakness, but as things get more stressful this kind of rubberbands around to them seeming extremely unstable. by the time they go to fight toww they're muttering nonstop, barely aware, and also they let their wool get longer and basically end up with a mullet. <3 because it's funny to me

they obviously beat toww and for them it's like a smashing of clarity, like a gripped handle let go, standing up from the river of blood. it's freeing but also the most pain they've ever been in. and instead of killing toww this pit in their stomach spares him. lamb went from a corpse to a god and now, in some sick way, they want to watch a god turn into a living corpse, just like them. because with every other sheep dead, narinder is the only one with a connection to that genocide, the cause of the other bishops doing it.

narinder hates their fucking guts. obvs. he thinks, or knows, that lamb is doing it on purpose. but narinder's body hasn't been normal for far, far too long. even before he was made death (as in artworks i've done with him), his body turned skeletal and rotted away. lacerations open all over his body, but especially down his front torso. when he's first brought to the cult, lamb gives him red robes, also because of this 'problem'. but narinder does every single thing he can against them. he gets white robes and lets them turn bloodied and disturbing to everyone around him.

even washing them stops working, and lamb does resign slightly to letting him sit in his dirty stupid robes. it's the pettiest shit. narinder also keeps his veil, and lamb can't bother with a reason to take it away. let that dumbass keep his yuck robes and veil. you can only stick him the stockade for a week before your other followers get too concerned.

over time, they do end up getting closer, but it comes from a place from both being touched and changed by Death, the red crown, and the choices of the other bishops. it takes a really long time and only after all the other bishops have been recruited (another whole thing). both of them catch themselves enjoying little things, and then having moments of all the pain bleeding through. an example is over time narinder does end up wearing darker robes, but it's fairly gradual. in this piece, it's lamb getting too deep in the countless lives that were taken from their race, triggered by blood (a whole little story thing), and narinder does make the (semi subconscious) choice to wear dark robes.

anyway you're probably looking at that giant shadow in the picture huh. it takes a long time but lamb Does end up truly becoming a bishop.

not 100% done with this design, but it has the basics. their main horns end up breaking off (thinking of a story behind that still). the main thing with them that i really like is they have multiple strings of bells on them. so everyone starts associating the sound of ringing bells as Death. so if you hear them, they're coming for you. that being said, they also have the ability to move completely silently, despite being covered in bells. which adds to the scaring-the-fuck-out-of-everyone factor.

there's a ton more i could get into with the other bishops, ratau, the duck siblings, the crowns themselves, more aym and baal, but i'm probably gonna do more artworks with them so i can talk more then :3 this is already too long lmao

thanks for the ask though!! it's nice knowing people are interested in my stuff :D (it's also worth mentioning that i am also a system and have alters of lamb, narinder, and aym and baal, who all contribute to this stuff)

[roman-catholic-mass-readings]

12th May >> Mass Readings (USA)

Friday, Fifth Week of Eastertide 

or

Saints Nereus and Achilleus, Martyrs 

or

Saint Pancras, Martyr.

Friday, Fifth Week of Eastertide 

(Liturgical Colour: White)

First Reading Acts of the Apostles 15:22-31 It is the decision of the Holy Spirit and of us not to place on you any burden beyond these necessities.

The Apostles and presbyters, in agreement with the whole Church, decided to choose representatives and to send them to Antioch with Paul and Barnabas. The ones chosen were Judas, who was called Barsabbas, and Silas, leaders among the brothers. This is the letter delivered by them: “The Apostles and the presbyters, your brothers, to the brothers in Antioch, Syria, and Cilicia of Gentile origin: greetings. Since we have heard that some of our number who went out without any mandate from us have upset you with their teachings and disturbed your peace of mind, we have with one accord decided to choose representatives and to send them to you along with our beloved Barnabas and Paul, who have dedicated their lives to the name of our Lord Jesus Christ. So we are sending Judas and Silas who will also convey this same message by word of mouth: ‘It is the decision of the Holy Spirit and of us not to place on you any burden beyond these necessities, namely, to abstain from meat sacrificed to idols, from blood, from meats of strangled animals, and from unlawful marriage. If you keep free of these, you will be doing what is right. Farewell.’“

And so they were sent on their journey. Upon their arrival in Antioch they called the assembly together and delivered the letter. When the people read it, they were delighted with the exhortation.

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Responsorial Psalm Psalm 57:8-9, 10 and 12

R/ I will give you thanks among the peoples, O Lord. or R/ Alleluia.

My heart is steadfast, O God; my heart is steadfast; I will sing and chant praise. Awake, O my soul; awake, lyre and harp! I will wake the dawn.

R/ I will give you thanks among the peoples, O Lord. or R/ Alleluia.

I will give thanks to you among the peoples, O LORD, I will chant your praise among the nations. For your mercy towers to the heavens, and your faithfulness to the skies. Be exalted above the heavens, O God; above all the earth be your glory!

R/ I will give you thanks among the peoples, O Lord. or R/ Alleluia.

Gospel Acclamation John 15:15b

Alleluia, alleluia. I call you my friends, says the Lord, for I have made known to you all that the Father has told me. Alleluia, alleluia.

Gospel John 15:12-17 This is my commandment: love one another.

Jesus said to his disciples: “This is my commandment: love one another as I love you. No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. You are my friends if you do what I command you. I no longer call you slaves, because a slave does not know what his master is doing. I have called you friends, because I have told you everything I have heard from my Father. It was not you who chose me, but I who chose you and appointed you to go and bear fruit that will remain, so that whatever you ask the Father in my name he may give you. This I command you: love one another.”

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

---------------------------

Saints Nereus and Achilleus, Martyrs   

Liturgical Colour: Red.

Readings for the memorial

There is a choice today between the readings for the ferial day (Friday) and those for the memorial. The ferial readings are recommended unless pastoral reasons suggest otherwise.

First reading Revelation 7:9-17 These are the ones who have survived the time of great distress.

I, John, had a vision of a great multitude, which no one could count, from every nation, race, people, and tongue. They stood before the throne and before the Lamb, wearing white robes and holding palm branches in their hands. They cried out in a loud voice:

“Salvation comes from our God, who is seated on the throne, and from the Lamb.”

All the angels stood around the throne and around the elders and the four living creatures. They prostrated themselves before the throne, worshiped God, and exclaimed:

“Amen. Blessing and glory, wisdom and thanksgiving, honor, power, and might be to our God forever and ever. Amen.”

Then one of the elders spoke up and said to me, “Who are these wearing white robes, and where did they come from?” I said to him, “My lord, you are the one who knows.” He said to me, “These are the ones who have survived the time of great distress; they have washed their robes and made them white in the Blood of the Lamb. “For this reason they stand before God’s throne and worship him day and night in his temple. The One who sits on the throne will shelter them. They will not hunger or thirst anymore, nor will the sun or any heat strike them. For the Lamb who is in the center of the throne will shepherd them and lead them to springs of life-giving water, and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.”

Responsorial Psalm Psalm 124:2-3, 4-5, 7-8

Our soul has been rescued like a bird from the fowler’s snare.

Had not the LORD been with us– when men rose up against us, then would they have swallowed us alive, When their fury was inflamed against us.

Our soul has been rescued like a bird from the fowler’s snare.

Then would the waters have overwhelmed us; The torrent would have swept over us; over us then would have swept the raging waters.

Our soul has been rescued like a bird from the fowler’s snare.

Broken was the snare, and we were freed. Our help is in the name of the LORD, who made heaven and earth.

Our soul has been rescued like a bird from the fowler’s snare.

Gospel Acclamation Matthew 5:10

Alleluia, alleluia. Blessed are they who are persecuted for the sake of righteousness, for theirs is the Kingdom of heaven. Alleluia, alleluia.

Gospel Matthew 10:17-22 You will be led before governors and kings for my sake as a witness before them and the pagans.

Jesus said to the Twelve: “Beware of men, for they will hand you over to courts and scourge you in their synagogues, and you will be led before governors and kings for my sake as a witness before them and the pagans. When they hand you over, do not worry about how you are to speak or what you are to say. You will be given at that moment what you are to say. For it will not be you who speak but the Spirit of your Father speaking through you. Brother will hand over brother to death, and the father his child; children will rise up against parents and have them put to death. You will be hated by all because of my name, but whoever endures to the end will be saved.”

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Saint Pancras, Martyr 

Liturgical Colour: Red.

Readings at Mass

Readings for the memorial

There is a choice today between the readings for the ferial day (Friday) and those for the memorial. The ferial readings are recommended unless pastoral reasons suggest otherwise.

First reading Revelation 19:1, 5-9a Blessed are those who have been called to the wedding feast of the Lamb.

I, John, heard what sounded like the loud voice of a great multitude in heaven, saying:“Alleluia!

Salvation, glory, and might belong to our God.”

Then a voice coming from a heavenly throne said:

“Praise our God, all you his servants, and you who revere him, small and great.”

Then I heard something like the sound of a great multitude or the sound of rushing water or mighty peals of thunder, as they said:“Alleluia!

The Lord has established his reign, our God, the almighty. Let us rejoice and be glad and give him glory. For the wedding day of the Lamb has come, his bride has made herself ready. She was allowed to wear a bright, clean linen garment.”

(The linen represents the righteous deeds of the holy ones.) Then an angel said to me, “Write this: Blessed are those who have been called to the wedding feast of the Lamb.”

Responsorial Psalm Psalm 103:1-2, 3-4, 8-9, 13-14, 17-18

O, bless the Lord, my soul!

Bless the LORD, O my soul; and all my being, bless his holy name! Bless the LORD, O my soul; and forget not all his benefits.

O, bless the Lord, my soul!

He pardons all your iniquities, he heals all your ills. He redeems your life from destruction, he crowns you with kindness and compassion.

O, bless the Lord, my soul!

Merciful and gracious is the LORD, slow to anger and abounding in kindness. He will not always chide, nor does he keep his wrath forever.

O, bless the Lord, my soul!

As a father has compassion on his children, so the LORD has compassion on those who fear him, For he knows how we are formed; he remembers that we are dust.

O, bless the Lord, my soul!

But the kindness of the LORD is from eternity to eternity toward those who fear him, And his justice toward his children’s children among those who keep his covenant.

O, bless the Lord, my soul!

Gospel Acclamation see Matthew 11:25

Alleluia, alleluia. Blessed are you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, you have revealed to little ones the mysteries of the Kingdom. Alleluia, alleluia.

Gospel Matthew 11:25-30 Although you have hidden these things from the wise and learned you have revealed them to the childlike.

At that time Jesus responded: “I give praise to you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, for although you have hidden these things from the wise and the learned you have revealed them to the childlike. Yes, Father, such has been your gracious will. All things have been handed over to me by my Father. No one knows the Son except the Father, and no one knows the Father except the Son and anyone to whom the Son wishes to reveal him.” “Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am meek and humble of heart; and you will find rest for yourselves. For my yoke is easy, and my burden light.”

[mr-faxmachine]

Divine Hubris: Prologue, Page 1

(Author’s Note: I’m proud to release the first page of my AU, Divine Hubris. This AU has some key differences, such as Kallamar’s redesign and other spoilery stuff; I hope you all enjoy this.... Even though I wrote this at like, 3 in the morning, I wanted to push this AU out in fanfic form since other media is giving me trouble. Oh yeah, trigger warnings in tags. My god i’m hyperfixating on this too much-) 

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The lamb's eyelids begin to open, his vision returning to him while he hears the clinks of his own chains; trying to pull the chains off by struggling, but it was no use. The poor lamb climbed up on whatever he had in the cell, looking outside to see the darkened sky, a full moon with it's usual white glow tainted by the crimson red. Suddenly, the clang of the cell door startled him, sending the ovine prisoner down onto the floor; Landing on it with a resounding thud.

"It is time, prisoner! The day is upon us, brothers!" The deranged cultist, donned in red robes exclaimed; They walk toward the lamb and grab him by the arms, letting the other cultists unchain and rechain The Lamb. "W-what time is it exactly?" The Lamb responded, only to be swiftly punched in the stomach; "SILENCE! We will not be swayed by your words of your kin!" He was silenced, almost vomiting from the gut punch; But slowly and surely made his way to his final destination.

The sad looking Lamb looked in the only path in front of him; A stone pathway riddled with markings and the skeletal corpses of his fallen kin, laid to waste by the sacrifices these delusional cultists made. He took his time walking the path, looking at the scorched trees and ceremonial banners dotting his path; He eventually reaches the end of the path, finding the four beasts that he saw in his village.

First there was the bush-like demon, wearing what seems to be a black crown upon his head, a singular green diamond-like eye in the center; bandages cover where his eyes should be, his green bush-like fur covering most of his features; Branches coming out from the sides of his head as he spoke these words: "Before us, lies the last of his kind. He is surely to be the one of the prophecy!" He announced; letting the other one, a fish-looking deity with seemingly identical crown upon his head; The only key differences is that his is cone-shaped, and has a blue sphere in the middle.

His robes were that of a dark grey and bronze-colored, he has an eyepatch over his left eye; Crossed between an anchor and a cross, with five circles on it's points and bottom. The beast's ears were likely torn off, from what I can see; He has a look of fear in his eyes. "The beast that shall be kept locked below will harm us no more!" He uttered; "Our lands will be tainted no longer, siblings! Can you no-" His tongue was stilled by the shrill voice of another, rasped from her throat wound.

This one was a red frog-like entity, having her bandages act as a scarf around her slit throat; Her crown had three points, and an inverted triangle in the center. "My impatience grows with this one, Bring out the executioner at ONCE!" She shouted, resulting in her coughing up blood, grasping at her neck; The last one stood forth. Taller than the rest, they are an Arachnid, but not like any spider I saw before; Their stare was distant, like something was troubling them.

They are equipped with a crown identical, but with a crescent moon; And two curved points on theirs, their fangs are sharp, oozing with venom. Their wound looked the most severe, a head injury that resulted their skull splitting open; They had pseudo-legs appearing out of their head, which is somewhat common with other arachnids in this world.

They began to speak their words, somewhat quieter than their other siblings. "The hour of bloodshed is at hand, the moon gazes down at us with her eye; The prophecy shall not come to fruition, The Old Faith shall be preserved. ...He who shall prey, the one that feasts upon the carrion of..." The colossal arachnid stepped back before finishing their sentence, an executioner brandished it's axe, ready to behead the lamb.

"N-no! I... I don't want to die..." The Lamb whimpered, with tears running down his face. "Please... anyone, anyTHING? Save me!" The executioner lifted his axe, brining it down upon the last sheep of the land; He felt a very sharp pain go through his neck, everything went dark... All feeling was diminished, only for another second to pass... And he saw something in the distance.

The place was littered with bones and wooden crosses, The Lamb proceeded to walk toward the tall beast, skewered and stabbed by a plethora golden chains. Golden chains coming up from the sky, obscured by the pure white fog that envelops this land; In front of this beast, there were two cat-like beings. The beast quickly reached for The Lamb, with him flinching quite a bit; The chains were tugging him back, making him scream out in pain as he felt them dig into his body.

His face was covered by a veil, with his three eyes and face obscured by it; His shackles rattled as he crouched down for The Lamb. "He who has been sacrificed, do not be afraid. You have been swiftly killed by their will. I am The One Who Waits." The beast spoke, grinning as looked down upon himself; stabbed by giant spear chains, blood staining his white robes and shackled to this plane of purgatory. The lamb began to speak himself while the chained god.

"So... This is it, huh? I'm actually-" The lamb was interrupted by the beast, who spoke over him. "No need to repeat what I said! But, I do have a deal for you, little one..." His hands reached upward to his head, grabbing the crown off it while he looks down at the ragged Lamb. "Pledge your servitude to me, and I shall bestow you Divine Power!" The One Who waits uttered, waiting for the final answer from the lamb. "What say you, fallen one?" He smiled, The crown's eye looking down at The Lamb.

"...I pledge myself to you, my lord."

[mdzs-owns-my-ass-i-guess]

Duty

Part 2

The man (demon) walks in silently, black and red robes flowing behind him, moved by the smokey wisps of resentment that follow him like shadows. The whole room (cave) becomes suffocated with it, with him, despite its tall ceiling and large walls. He doesn't look towards his guest, choosing to lounge on his throne instead, the black pillows cushioning hard stone. To his right, the Ghost General awaits, unmoving and expressionless, dead. Undead. Both a curse and a miracle, a living corpse with a consciousness.

To his left, a beautiful woman scowls at nothing in particular, her resemblance to the Ghost General uncanny. It is undeniable who the woman is - the legendary Wen Qing.

Lan Wangji swallows hard, fixates his eyes onto the dark floor, studying misplaced stones. He almost thinks he sees blood stains. He does. The implication sends shivers down his spine, and suddenly he misses Bichen's comforting presence at his hip, or the weight of his guqin - but he was stripped of them, of the privilege of being able to defend himself, the moment he was order to dress in his finest clothing and jewelry and fulfill a duty he has never believed would befall him.

Now, he's no longer Hanguang-Jun, the Second Jade of Lan, unparalleled in his skills and cultivation, a beacon of righteousness always ready to provide to those in need. Instead, he's only Lan Wangji, a glorified sacrificial lamb, the cultivation world's tribute towards the fearsome demon king of the Burial Mounds, the Yiling Patriarch.

Lan Wangji had heard much about him. How he was cruel, evil, bloodthirsty. How the Sunshot Campaign of long ago had been a success only because the Yiling Patriarch had joined in the alliance and his proclivity for death couldn't be defeated not even by the likes of Wen Ruohan and his ruthless army. How those who marched in the Burial Mounds to kill him had been tortured until they cried themselves to death and turned into his undead playthings.

How clans and sects and villages sent him men and women to appease his anger and coax him into helping them tame creatures that nobody else could. How none of those people were ever heard from again.

Staring into the blood stains on the floor, Lan Wangji wonders when he will become one of those stories himself. After all, he was made to swear on his life and his word not to fight for his life if the Yiling Patriarch wished to kill him.

The Yiling Patriarch sighs loudly, his long, demonic tail curling around one of his legs. "So, what's your name?"

Lan Wangji barely finds it in himself to speak. "Lan Zhan. Lan Wangji."

"It's rude not to look at the person you're talking to, Lan Zhan."

So, he does. He is surprised to see that, upon closer inspection, the Yiling Patriarch looks quite... human. His complexion is pale, white almost, his eyes are red, long, dark hair frames his features and falls down his front and back - he looks... beautiful. He is.

The Yiling Patriarch smiles, satisfied, his tail swishing once, slowly. "At least they got my tastes right this time. I've always liked the quiet ones, it's fun to get them to scream."

Lan Wangji keeps a steely expression, though he wonders if what he's feeling is fear or... something else, something new entirely.

Wen Qing rolls her eyes. Lan Wangji can only wonder why. The Yiling Patriarch speaks once more.

"Why did they send you?"

"There is a beast. Nobody has been able to defeat it and free the villages of its terror, and many cultivators have lost their lives trying to fight it."

"So I'm your last resort. Again."

Lan Wangji nods, expectant for an answer.

"For how they ostracize and demean us," Wen Qing speaks, loud, domineering and angry, "they sure are brave to ask for our help so often! How audacious!"

Lan Wangji knows of no other instance that the Yiling Laozu has been requested aid since the Sunshot Campaign, but he dares not contradict the woman. He has a purpose to fulfill, and he must not anger those able to fulfill it.

"No need to get angry, Wen Qing." The Yiling Patriarch intervened, with a bit of urgency in his voice.

"Then what do you suggest?! We do their dirty work with a smile like they haven't been plotting against us for the past several hundreds of years?! Ridiculous!"

The Yiling Patriarch sighs again, leans his chin against his palm, thoughtful. He sees the disappointed look on Lan Zhan's face - he's not relieved that he might get away and go back home. Instead, he seems... upset.

"I understand that the cultivation world has been unfair to you." He begins. "But the people that the beast has killed have mostly been peasants. Innocent people. They play no part in how you have been treated by the sects."

He takes a deep breath, fixes the two with a determined gaze. "Despite the gossip and the ill words, I have heard of your kindness towards the people. I know that you are fair and do not stand for injustice against the innocent and defenseless. I have come to ask help on their behalf, not my sect's."

There is a glint in the Yiling Patriarch's eyes as he listens to Lan Zhan. None of the other tributes have ever been so brave and so insistent in upholding their cause. Most cried and begged to be set free.

"You're different." The Yiling Patriarch says, his tone light, excited almost. "They really did send me someone I'd like this time."

The praise almost made Lan Wangji blush. Almost. He cannot feel flattered by the words of a demon.

"Whilst Wen Qing is right about everything she said, and I would be very much entitled to let you all rot, I will fulfill your request and kill the beast. I do care for the safety of the innocent, just as you said, more than I want the sects to pay for their sins."

Lan Wangji bows. "Thank you."

"And as for you..."

The Yiling Patriarch stands up, walks towards Lan Wangji and comes impossibly close to him, towering over his body, a finger coming to trace over his lips.

"...I will make very good use of you."

Lan Wangji is again overcome by contradicting sensations, a mix of paralysing fear and boiling arousal settling in his gut. Up close, the Yiling Patriarch's shining eyes and the beauty of his features are intoxicating. He tries not to let his eyes wander to the demon king's lips. "I will serve you however you wish."

The Yiling Patriarch chuckles, the sound rich, deep, terrifying, exciting. "Mark your words."

[dxrkdreamer]

Exoneration (Sukuna x Reader smut)

Being his favorite led to some consequences with the other servants, and you were falsely accused in their attempt of getting rid of you. You would do whatever it takes to receive Sukuna’s forgiveness.

Sukuna x reader smut

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: dubcon, oral male receiving, praising, humiliation, blindfold and rope, slight size kink, slight pet kink if you think about it, y’all I hate looking back at this and describing what I wrote.

A shiver went up your spine, either from the temperature or the fear. You weren’t sure. You couldn’t see through the silk blindfold covering your eyes. The delicate cloth absorbing your silent tears. I wouldn’t betray you! You wanted to scream and beg for your king to believe you. But you knew better than to test his anger.

“Poor (name)... who knew you would be in this position” your head shot up as you looked for the source of the voice.

“M-my king I swear I didn’t-” you were cut short of your plea as his clawed hand gripped your chin forcing your face up so he could get a good look. His grip was painful and it took every ounce of tolerance to not try and rip out of the binds your wrists were in, not like you would be able to anyways.

“What did you say little lamb?” he asked, chuckling and enjoying your pathetic view. He knew you were crying behind the blindfold, your shaking body gave it all away. He loosened his grip on your chin and stroked your cheek with his thumb.

You were obviously his favorite in his temple, although he didn’t outwardly express it, everyone still knew. He showed it through his smirks, his little taunts, his preference over you doing his personal tasks. You were a shy, meek little thing. So fucking ravagable.

“Sukuna-sama, I would never go against you!” you managed out, before the blindfold could no longer cage your tears that flowed down your pretty face. Of course you wouldn't, he thought, did his servants really think he would fall for such transparent lies. He would deal with them after, right now he willed to take advantage of the situation. His sweet little (name) would do anything he would ask of her, but where's the fun in that?

“LIttle lamb, why would I believe your filthy tongue?” You were so precious, so innocent. You were under the impression you were here to be slaughtered by him, the carnage being cleaned up by the fellow servants that had spread rumours of you and led to your demise, and your king walking away without so much as a glance back at your corpse.

What a waste of a pretty girl that would be.

His nail swiped the tears off your cheek. He couldn’t wait to get started.

“I-I’ve never stepped out of line ever, I’m loyal to only you my king” you pleaded. Your village had easily discarded you as an offering to the King of Curses, so you became inclined to serve him since he gave shelter to you and all the other humans given to him until he got bored with them.

“My forgiveness and pardon does not come easy little one”

“I’ll do whatever it takes to gain my king’s pleasure” you said confidently leaning forward, so close to his crotch and your poor self didn’t even know. He had to resist the urge of skull fucking you in that very moment.

“You’re quite the innocent girl” he commented, smirking as he loosened his robe and pulled his girthy and lengthy cock out. Stroking it as he enjoyed your sight; blindfolded, wrists bound together with rope, your legs tucked under you obediently. Your soft white gown hung loosely on your shoulders exposing your soft mounds to him. “Tell me, have you seen a man before?” he questioned, his cock just barely touching your lips.

“No my king” you quietly replied, unable to sense the atmosphere. This made him smirk wider, how such a naive girl still lived in this era was beyond him. But he did not intend on wasting you for someone else to claim.

He couldn’t hold in his amusement and chuckled loudly, the sound made you squirm a little “Is that so dear (name)?” he asked once his outburst subsided. He guided one of his hands behind your head, caressing your other cheek in the process before he gripped the blindfold, tearing it off.

You let out a squeak from the sudden movement before your gaze stopped at his cock. You gulped not being able to look away. He put the tip against your soft lips, rubbing it against them. With wide eyes you looked up at him not knowing what to do. “Please me little lamb” he said, his eyes hooded with lust.

Unsure with what that entailed, you hesitantly kissed his cock, pressing your lips against the shaft, your small wet tongue darting out to lick the underside back to the tip, licking off the precum that had accumulated. Your eyes closed savouring the taste and moment. “Thank you Sukuna-sama” you said before your lips wrapped around his cock, sucking off the head hesitantly. Your eyes looking up at him innocently through your lashes. Your face already wet from previous tears and the fear still lingered.

“You poor thing, you would go this far just to make your king happy” he mocked, swiping off the rope binding your wrists “Giving up your little face hole just for me, how desperate”

His harsh words did not cause you to waiver, instead ignited something within you. You grasped the back of his thigh with one hand, the other going wrapping around his thick cock as you tried stroking it. Your small hand is just barely making its way around him. He quirked an eyebrow amused at you. How compliant you were. The desperation you had of trying to fit his length in your tiny mouth.

“Little girl you might just break your mouth trying to fit me” he chuckled, his hand gripping the back of your head before thrusting into you forcefully. Your body jerked from the sudden invasion, your eyes beginning to tear up from the force. “But you’d take all that just for your king, wouldn’t you sweet little lamb?” he cooed before continuing his thrusts. Your hands gripping his thighs harshly, your nails digging in deep enough to draw blood as you held on for dear life.

Even he was impressed by how much you were enduring. Your face just looked so fuckable he couldn’t resist. But he did not want to injure your pretty self, so soon at least. He pulled his cock out of your mouth causing you to fall onto your hands, your head lowered as you tried to catch your breathing and find some relief for your aching jaw.

He gave you a moment, and when you lifted your head up to look at him with the same determination he could only feel his ego swell. You were so obsessed with him. He gripped your face, his fingers pushing into your cheeks as he brought his mouth down to taste you, his tongue exploring the warm hole he just abused. “Good fucking girl” he said spitting in your mouth before pushing his cock back in, pounding you harshly before coming down to a slow pace as he came to his release, painting your throat in hot white.

He closed his eyes, sucking in a breath, calming down his raging hot body. He felt you whimper and move, crawling over and licking the remnants of cum off his cock. His hands moved to rest on your head, smoothing your hair back “you’re such a good girl, never disappointing me” he praised looking down at you.

“Am I forgiven?” you ask, a strange feeling within you. You wanted to be forgiven but you wanted more from your king. The distraught look on your face was obvious and he smiled looking from your face down to your dress that was wet and bunched up on your thighs.

“We’ll see little one”

[authorofemotion]

Allow me to be near You

I have not done something like this since January with my series of songs based on The Great Divorce but once again God ambushed me and made me spend several hours on this out of nowhere. I am a begrudging participant.

This is a prayer I wrote put to music (aka i’m singing it). It’s the only prayer I have ever ever shared with more than one person, but God keeps calling me back to it to give it to others. So could I ask a favor of my Christian mutuals? Could you stop, for just a couple minutes, and pray this with me?

here is the music (linked so I don’t do a face reveal to ALL my followers)

and here is the original non-musical prayer if you prefer that!

O Lover,

Allow me to be near You, to be near the horrible acts inflicted on You. Allow me to kiss Your Face, stained with inexpressible pain. Let my lips linger with the taste of copper and salt—metallic, a weapon in its own rite.

Allow me to be near You, to wash myself in Your Wounds. To catch to Water from Your Side in cupped hands, for I have no chalice. Allow me to cradle Your Body as it’s broken and emptied. Allow me to wet Your Head with my tears and the tears of Your faithful.

O, but have flowers grown where Your Blood hit the ground! Your Blood has touched me too, Lamb, deeper.

O, but my heart quivers and trembles in Your Presence! I am a fragile bird, wings clipped and voice hoarse and frayed from my imprisonment.

Allow me to be near You, Lord! The earth will die no longer, but it will live! Allow me to sing You a song that will not wear my throat. Allow me to make You a robe that will not be torn off.

For You are my everything. Allow me to treat You as such, when Your enemies scorn You as nothing. My heart breaks with it, but without Your allowance, I do not know how to make You my Lord.

Allow me, Beloved! Allow me!

(very sorry gnashing my teeth etc but I am tagging my Christian mutuals in this— @bookdragon1811 @turtleduck-enthusiast @silverpaintedstars @kanerallels @accidental-spice @heckin-music-dork @avatardoggo @ladygobpire @holbytlanna @tessathecaffeinatedbutterfly @distance-does-not-matter @kazoosandfannypacks @intothelionsden @i-am-a-stupid-robot @babsbabbles @the-permanent-blur @i-am-a-freg *hides*)

[yanderepuck]

Petplay Kink~

You’re all sluts I hope you know that.

But I’m the biggest slut because I’m the one that came up with the idea.

If you don’t know what petplay is.  Well. You’re about to get a pretty good idea.

Napoleon

He didn’t understand the appeal until he saw you in some cat ears.  You thought it was a cute accessory and you wear that headband when you wash your face since it is the only thing you have to keep the hair out of your face without pulling it back.  You didn’t think anything of it.  When he reached up to feel the ears you let out a soft purr.  He then imagined what you would look like with a long fluffy tail which then made him think of how much he’d want to pet it, and seeing you naked on his bed trying to use that fluffy tail of yours to cover yourself.

Mozart

It’s hard when you’re both bottoms.  But for the most part you are the one topping him.  You both don’t get too kinky, mainly you’re just rough with each other. But there’s some things from back home you’ve always wanted to try.  Before Mozart has said he’s okay with trying a few things, meanwhile there’s others he knows he doesn’t want to do bondage.  But he hasn’t said anything about some petplay.  You decide to have it as a surprise and see how he reacts, besides its not like he has to do much.  He normally calls you his lamb, but tonight you’re going to be a wolf.

Leonardo

The thought of you with a cat tail and ears gets him hard.  He isn’t quite sure why but he wants to put you in a collar and call you his kitten.  The moment he sees yourself like that he looses it.  He’s got you naked on the bed, touching you all over while you purr for him.  The collar that he got you was made just for you.  It’s a thick silk velvet ribbon with some gems and lace on it.  It ties in the back so it can be tighter or looser.  He enjoys taking you from behind so he can see you reach out and grab the sheets.  As he fucks you into the mattress he makes you meow for him.

Arthur

He might be a ho, but even this is new to him.  He already thought you were hot wearing a choker/collar.  He loves to give it a tug to pull you closer to him.  One day while you were waiting for him to get back, you were sitting in his room and happened to see Vic’s leash and had an idea.  When Arthur got back you were in your underwear and were holding the leash that was attached to your choker.  His face got red.  He wasn’t expecting to come home from this.  He isn’t phased for too long however.  He takes the leash from you and pulls you close to him.  As he’s kissing you he starts saying how you better bark for him.

Vincent

This pure boy barely knows what kinks are.  You bring up to him that there’s a few things you want to try.  He tells you that he’s okay with trying anything as long it doesn’t harm either of you.  You don’t tell him anything in particular that you want to do, but there are some things you were into back home.  After a day of painting Vincent was coming to your room to see how you were doing.  He walked in to see you on your bed in a robe with some lingerie on.  He’s always wanted to paint you dressed like this.  He wanted to always see you like this.  He came over to give you a kiss and noticed you wearing a choker collar.  It looks cute on you.  Even getting the slight urge to give it a tug.  But he doesn’t.  He controls himself.  Until he pushes that robe off of you and feels something odd.  You show him the tail you are wearing and get a little embarrassed because you weren’t sure what he was going to think of it.  But he assured you that it made him only want to paint you more.  He gave it a few strokes before giving it a bit of a tug.  You weren’t expecting it and let out a little yip.  Putting a finger under your choker collar he pulls you closer and kisses you, before pushing you down on the bed to get on top of you.

Theo

Do I even have to write for him????  This bitch loves it.  He already calls you a mutt as your pet name.  But lets take it a different route this time.  You’re his sweet hondje.  He treasures you and treats you like a sweet small lap dog.  You rest your head on his lap and he strokes your hair while you get cozy and fall asleep.  He pampers you and gets you everything you would need.  That doesn’t mean he doesn’t have you wearing a collar.  He wants everyone to know who you belong to.  He doesn’t want to loose his precious pup.

Isaac

Why would seeing someone in animal ears be attractive?  Isn’t that a little childish?  But you warm him up to the idea.  He didn’t know what to expect.  But the room is dim, you’re purring in his ear giving his neck a few little licks, just to tease.  You take his hand and get him to wrap a finger around the collar you have on.  You let out a little whimper when he tugs at it.  For the first half of it you lead his hands, but the second half he has his hands on your hips, guiding you and calling you a good girl.

Dazai

It was probably his idea.  You are in lingerie, with some fox ears and a tail and he’s drooling over you.  He didn’t have a leash but he tied a rope to your choker to keep you close to him.  He has his hands on your ass, your back against the wall and tells you that if you behave he’ll reward you.  But as a fox you keep teasing him, so he keeps your leash short.  Not close enough to have your bodies touching, but don’t even think about touching yourself or he’ll use that rope to tie you up. 

Jean

What could be so attractive about some animal ears?  That’s what he thought until you were on top of him, in all lace lingerie, your hands all over his body while gently bucking your hips into his for any sort of friction.  You’re saying how you caught him and how he’s your prey, meaning you go down on him.  You’re taking your time and keeping his hips down on the bed.  He has a hand in your hair trying to get you to take more of him, but you don’t listen.  So he grips you by the collar you’re wearing and bring you back up to his face and getting on top of you, saying he’s trapped you now.

Will

He already likes to tie you up and act like you are his prey, but you wanted a little more.  He keeps you on a short leash so you can’t wander off and get in trouble.  He has you get on your knees and makes you beg.  He likes to play with you in front of a mirror so you can see what you look like, so you don’t forget who you belong to.  He leaves marks all over you.

Comte

After that one scene, he would be the one in ears in a tail, BUT WE AREN’T BREAKING THE PATTERN NOW.  He spoils you.  Maybe a little too much.  He always gives you what you ask for so when you don’t get your way you act out.  Of course its all roleplay, he’ll put a hand around your neck and tell you to remember who you are talking to.  If you still act out he’ll be sure to reach under that skirt the tease you until you can’t stand any longer.  But don’t think about collapsing.  He’ll remind you that his is what you wanted, and he’s giving it to you, don’t be ungrateful now.

Sebastian

The idea isn’t new to him, but it wasn’t much of anything he was exactly into, until you brought it up to him.  Only he has you wear a dainty little collar all day while working.  No one else in the mansion really knows what it means.  He started to get more into it once he knew how much you liked it.  He’d watch you closely int he kitchen and if you didn’t do something to his standards he’d press his body against your from behind, a hand firmly against your neck asking why you aren’t being a good girl.  He has no issue reaching up your skirt and rubbing you.  He says that if you’re a good girl and finish all your chorus when he’ll reward you 

Vlad

He spoils you with everything.  But the moment you disobey him he’ll make sure you won’t forget who your owner is.  He has no issue walking you around the castle on a leash.  He wants your to beg for forgiveness and then even act upon it.  If you aren’t on your best behavior he’ll tie you up so you can’t touch him or yourself and you’ll have to watch him please himself. 

Faust

He already treats you like a pet everyday.  You ask him for help and he’s make a comment about how he needs to train you to do it properly, even if the thing is just getting something off a high shelf.  He loves watching your face light up when he calls you a good girl.  Your energy just fills up the room, and he knows that if he wants you to do something, all he has to do is praise you and maybe give you a treat.  He finds it adorable when you have a choker on, he calls it your collar and calls you his little kitty.

Charles

He loves to call you his kitten.  He puts cat ears on you can gives you head pats as a joke at first.  But then you were like, no, need more head pats.  You just keep asking for attention even when he’s busy, and one day you take it a little too far and just sit on his lap while he’s busy, so he reaches around to put a finger under your choker and drags his tongue along your ear and says that if you’re going to be on his lap that you better get to work on him.

Masterlist

[nothing-but-dreamy]

BLACK TIE

A/N: Thanks again for this idea @mindlessstories

I hope you have fun with it

Pairing: LEON KENNEDY x READER

Words: 1.736

Warnings: fluff, cursing, Leon in a suit

Synopsis: Yn and Leon are on a mission with fancy clothes. But somehow the mission is not the most interesting thing...

"W-What the bloody... What are you wearing?", Yn asked as she checked the appearance of the man in front of her. The guy was neatly dressed in a white suit shirt, black suit pants and a black jacket. Even a black tie was bound around the man’s neck. Quickly, Yn checked the number of the hotel room once again in fear she had mistaken it and might stand in front of some stranger. No, it was the right room and actually, it was also the right guy. It was just … even if it was part of the mission, Leon S. Kennedy had swapped his typical, casual leather jacket with a tuxedo. It was a sight for sore eyes. Unusually and at the same time, perfectly fitting as if Leon would be some kind of secret undercover supermodel instead of an agent.

Leon, amused about Yn’s big eyes and astonished expression, chuckled and stepped aside, letting his partner in who was still watching him as if he would be an alien. A handsome one but still. Leon closed the door, "It's a tuxedo. That's what you wear on a bow and tie event.", he explained and watched how Yn rolled with her eyes.

“I know what it is but to see you in it… and by the way! Black Tie, Kennedy! It’s called Black Tie! And not ‘bow and tie’.”, Yn explained for maybe the hundredth time since they both got assigned to this secret mission. In fact, the job was easy. A rich weapons dealer had started to ‘extend’ his sortiment with some BOWs. His business was flourishing. But instead of just catching him, Yn and Leon had decided it would be better to bug the dealer to get information about his clients as well. Therefore, they were able to dig out the whole nest.

“I don’t care what these events are called. They’re all the same. It’s just to show off how rich and important everyone is.”, Leon said and leant with crossed arms against the doorframe.

“I know how much you hate these things.”, Yn said, grabbed her bag and aimed for the bathroom to change her outfit as well, “But I have to admit, you look good in this tuxedo. It suits you.”, she said through the half closed door.

Leon smirked, “Oh, really? You know, maybe you could show me how much you like my outfit?”, he asked flirtatiously.

Yn opened the door again and stepped out, “Focus on the mission, Kennedy.”

Leon was hearing her words but his mind went kinda blank as he saw her robed in a floor-length, backless, black dress. The silky-soft fabric hugged all her curves perfectly and gave much input for many, many x-rated fantasies. Slowly, Leon’s eyes wandered upwards until he met her challenging glance. Slowly, he stepped forward with a smirk, “I might hate these events but I could get used to seeing you working in such a stunning outfit.”, Leon said low.

Yn saw dirty thoughts glittering behind his steel-blue eyes and smirked, “Take a picture, it might last longer. Come, we have to go.”, she said, passed Leon and knew that he was staring at her back all the way.

**

Thirty minutes later, Yn and Leon were entering a huge, pompous decorated ballroom. Chandeliers bathed the room in dim, atmospheric light. Soft jazz music played in the background. And obviously a whole diamond mine had exploded because it was sparkling and twinkling in each corner. The room was filled with high-society and in the middle of it two special agents who tried to fit into this kind of world.

“Shall we split up?”, Leon asked low.

Still with a wealthy smile on her lips, Yn shook her head, “Let us take a round together and then, if necessary, we split up.”, she said and linked her arm with Leon’s.

The idea had been good but quickly, they had to admit that the room was too stuffed with people. And because they searched for a guy, and everyone looked kinda the same in their black suits, they had difficulties finding their subject.

Evading into a quiet corner, Yn looked up at Leon, “That’s not working. There are too many people here. Alright, we split up. I walk around a bit. You could monitor the guys who are without women like the group over there at the bar.”, she said and nodded unobtrusively into the said direction while putting a small intercom into her ear to activate it and gave Leon the other earpiece who mirrored her move. With a serious expression, her eyes met Leon’s, “If one of us finds him, the other one comes to the position.”, she said and was about to leave.

Leon held her back, “Be careful, okay?”, he said and looked her caringly but serious in the eyes.

She smirked, “Of course. I’m not the one with the reckless moves like fighting against infected dogs on a motorbike.”, and with that, she stepped back to vanish in the crowd.

Leon chuckled about her boldness and shook his head before he followed her idea to aim for the bar. He ordered a drink and while waiting for it, Leon looked left and right to check out the people around him if their target would be with them. Leon was just about to check an older man with salt-and-pepper hair as fragments of a conversation waved over to him, catching his attention.

“These women are all the same. Rich, wealthy and absolutely boring.”, one tall man said before taking a sip of his Whiskey.

“Yeah, or ugly. I mean, how many surgeries are really necessary? I get the impression that all these women here are just made out of plastic and silicone.”, another man said. He was a bit smaller than the first one.

Leon was just about to leave as the third guy said something that caught his attention to the point that he fully turned over to them, “You might be right except with this pretty thing over there. What? None of you haven’t seen her yet? Okay, then, she’s mine.”, the guy said and let it sound as if the woman was just a piece of meat and he was the lion to hunt it down.

Leon knew he had to focus on the mission and he really was about to leave the group of idiots behind but then, he noticed the way how the guy looked at the unaware victim. It was a lust filled glance that even Leon felt disgusted by the sight. The guy was pretty sure about himself that he would be successful to win the woman over this evening. The guy, tall, dark haired and looking like a lot of money, licked over his lips while his eyes showed that he looked at a point that was lower than the woman’s waist. Now more interested in who the innocent lamb might be, Leon followed the guy’s glance and felt how his blood ran hot and cold at the same time.

Yn stood there, talking with an older lady and facing the group of guys with her back. The dress gave a beautiful sight of her flawless skin. While she talked, her body moved beautifully and she even swayed a bit to the soft tune of the music so that her hair fell over her bare back, dancing a little through the air.

“You can’t have her! I saw her first. I just couldn’t say anything because I became speechless by her eyes.”, the first, tall guy said.

“By her eyes? Forget them! Look at her god damn ass. So round and juicy.”, the guy said and his eyes became filled with raw, sexual hunger.

That was enough for Leon to forget the mission for a moment as he walked over to the group, “I couldn’t miss hearing how you were talking about this young lady.” Leon said low, getting the attention of all three men at the same time, “Stay away from her. All of you. Or otherwise, things will turn ugly.”, he said with a kind of threat lingering in his voice.

One of the men stepped closer to Leon, slightly towering over the agent and looking down, “Who do you think you are, huh? Nothing we do is your concern.”

Not impressed at all, Leon stepped forward, holding the man’s glance, “She’s mine, get it? Therefore, yes, it concerns me how you are talking about her. So, do yourself a favor and stay away from her or I will become your worst nightmare. And trust me, I know what I’m talking about.”, Leon said threateningly, leaving no room for any further arguments.

The guy stared at Leon for several more moments and considered his best next step but in the end, the guy saw something in Leon’s eyes that told him to better back off. And after another few seconds, the guy stepped back, nodded to his friends and disappeared somewhere else.

Leon went back to his drink and emptied it in one big sip. As he placed the glass back on the counter, Yn stood already next to him, leaning against the bar with a smirk on her lips, "So, I'm yours, huh?", she asked low.

With a shock filled glance, he stared at her and swallowed thickly, "Oh, uhm... Well... I- I didn't like the way he looked at you.", he stammered with an apologetic glance.

Yn nodded, "Yes, I heard that.”, she said, tapping at her ear with her index finger to remind him of the intercom. As Yn saw his awkward smile, she stepped forward, “You know, to see you jealous and protective was kinda cute. But it was unnecessary, don't you think? I'm not your girlfriend."

Leon also stepped forward, a smirk was playing on his lips while he snaked his arm around her waist to bring her even closer, "Actually, we're just one date away that I can call you mine."

"Oh, really? Then, I would say we count this evening as a date, what do you think?", Yn suggested whispering against his lips which were just inches away.

"Deal.", Leon breathed before he kissed her. It was a deep kiss. Filled with hunger to show off to whom Yn belonged to. Yn tugged on his suit jacket to bring him even closer, knowing exactly where these clothes would land later this evening…

[undertheoaktree-novel]

-Chapter 44/45/46/47-

"Mmm..."

A firm hand gently cupped Maxi's breast over her dress. She awoke to see the faint light of dawn filtering in through the windows. She had fallen asleep after supper while reading in bed.

She was drawing the blankets over her shoulders to ward off the morning chill when a powerful arm snaked around her waist. Startled, she turned to look behind her. Riftan was fast asleep, his bare chest exposed. Wondering when he had returned, she peered at his face with suspicion. Was he pretending to be asleep again?

Maxi narrowed her eyes, on alert for any sign of movement. But Riftan continued to breathe softly. Convinced that he was genuinely asleep, she gently pushed his arm away. To her surprise, he released her.

Maxi turned toward him as quietly as she could. Though Riftan usually woke at the slightest noise, he remained sound asleep. The sight warmed her heart.

He must be exhausted.

Riftan's face was bathed in the bluish glow of dawn. Maxi gently traced its outline with her hand. His hair had grown longer and now sat over his fine forehead in a tousled mess, pricking his eyes. Seeing the slight frown on his face, Maxi brushed back the strands, and the frown disappeared. She smiled at the sight of him sleeping sweetly.

Maxi continued to look at him adoringly, though he was about 30 centimeters taller than her and twice her size. On impulse she crawled into his arms and put her head against his chest. Seeing that he was still deeply asleep, she felt the urge to do something more daring.

She buried her face in his neck and took in his warm masculine scent, which reminded her of sunlight mingled with the fragrance of the soap. As she drank in the inexplicably sensual scent, heat rose inside her belly.

She buried her face in his neck and took in his warm masculine scent, which reminded her of sunlight mingled with the fragrance of the soap. As she drank in the inexplicably sensual scent, heat rose inside her belly.

Maxi followed the outline of Riftan's jaw with her finger. He was truly a stunning man. Even in the dark, his smooth skin gleamed like gold, and with his long lashes lowered, he looked as innocent as a lamb.

Something must be wrong with me.

Just a few months prior, she would never have thought to describe this rugged knight as innocent. But now, she was overcome by a strange desire to embrace him and rub her face against him. She suppressed the urge. She not only lacked the courage, but she was also loath to disturb his much-needed rest.

Maxi slid out of bed and left the room with her robe in hand. The crisp morning air chilled the corridor. She draped the thick robe over her thin woolen dress and made her way to the kitchen. When she arrived, there was a warmth in the air.

"My lady! What brings you to the kitchen so early in the morning?"

Maxi gave him an awkward smile as she made her way to the fireplace. "I-I woke up early, and I l-left the room so as n-not to disturb the l-lord. Is it a-all right if I s-stay here?"

The cook seemed flustered that the lady of the castle would ask such a thing. He nodded so vigorously that Maxi worried his head might come loose.

"Of course! Would you like to have your breakfast now, my lady?"

"Y-Yes, please."

As she sat in front of the warm fire on a full stomach, she felt drowsiness overtake her. Just as she was thinking about returning to bed, Ruth shuffled into the kitchen.

"Why, you're up early today, my lady."

Maxi's face fell in dismay. Ruth quickly made his way to her as if to stop her from escaping.

"I see you're enjoying an early breakfast. That must be nice. I, on the other hand, haven't had a single bite since dinner last night thanks to the special task Sir Riftan assigned to me."

Maxi gave him a stiff smile. "I-I was b-busy yesterday..."

"I'm sure you have a lot on your hands," Ruth added in a softer tone. "But strengthening our defenses is our priority. We need the magical device to stop further attacks. And you, my lady, are the only person who has the arithmetic skills to help me."

Maxi narrowed her eyes. She would have bet on her own life that Ruth did not think highly of her arithmetic skills.

"I-I understand, b-but making winter p-preparations is also i-important. I-I'll help you as s-soon as I'm finished."

"The safety of Anatolians takes precedence over all else for Sir Riftan. If I can complete the device with your help, his worries will be greatly alleviated."

Maxi's ears pricked up, and her eyes brightened. "Would it r-really?"

"Certainly, my lady."

Excited by the chance to prove herself to Riftan, Maxi hardly took notice of the fact that Ruth had artfully chosen just the words that were needed to convince her. She glanced at the servants, who were listening intently to their conversation while pretending to work. Then she let out a long sigh as if she had been given no other choice.

"I-If that's the case, I'll h-help you f-first. A-Are you s-satisfied?"

"I'd be happier if you could start right away." Ruth ran a hand over his haggard face.

Maxi and Ruth made their way do the library and Maxi’s jaw dropped when she saw the mess he had made in the library in just two days.

"Why are y-you working h-here instead of your t-tower?"

"There isn't enough room. And Sir Riftan has made it clear that the tower will no longer be mine if I don't finish this device within a week."

Maxi frowned as she thought about the lofty tower located in the back garden. How could Ruth possibly have run out of space? Surely he wasn't sleeping in the library because he lacked room in the tower? Ruth seemed not to notice her disapproving look as he sat down. Maxi grudgingly took the seat across from him.

"Your task, my lady, is quite simple. I'd like you to draw copies of these diagrams using these tools. I'll explain how to use them, of course. They should be easy to use as long as you know basic arithmetic."

Maxi studies the diagram with interest.

"Magic runes are tools that allow us to amplify the mana in our surroundings tenfold or even a hundredfold. That's how all magic is created. A mage's talent is determined by how efficiently they use these runes to create the desired effect."

Maxi tilted her head. "B-But I've seen m-mages use magic without r-runes before."

"That’s possible only when we’ve memorized the spell so well that we can draw the runes in our heads. But only basic spells can be used this way. Advanced spells take a great deal of time and effort to prepare."

"D-Does that m-mean you can use m-magic if you know how to d-draw these r-runes?"

"The runes won't work if you can't activate them with magic, and for that, you'd have to know how to control mana. Magic isn't something you can create from nothing, but something you must harness."

"B-But I've seen ordinary p-people use magical d-devices."

"That's because they have magic stones."

Ruth rummaged through the cluttered desk and pulled out a glimmering red stone the size of Maxi's palm.

"This stone contains a fixed amount of magic and functions as an energy source for magical devices. By placing one inside a device, ordinary people can use magic."

Maxi studied the stone. Holding the stone in her hands, she felt as if she had been given a glimpse into a strange new world. Her heart began to beat faster.

"Now, if that satisfied your curiosity, shall we get started? If we don't finish this soon, I shall lose my tower."

Ruth shoved a pile of books to one side to make room on the desk. Maxi set the stone down and listened attentively as he explained step by step how to make calculations and how to draw the complex designs.

With Ruth's detailed directions, Maxi quickly grasped the task at hand, methodically adding and subtracting as she redrew the diagrams with a ruler. Though it was a complex task that she could not fully comprehend, she never found the work tiresome.

They worked in silence.

Just as her fingers began to ache from gripping the quill, the library door burst open. She turned to see Riftan striding toward them.

Her eyes widened when she saw that he was clad in leather trousers and a black tunic instead of his armor, a sign that he did not intend to leave the castle that day. She had half risen from her seat to joyfully greet him when she heard his icy voice.

"The servants tell me you've been here since early this morning. What do you think you're doing here?"

Riftan ran his eyes over the piles of books and parchment on the desk. The displeasure on his face puzzled Maxi.

"What's all this about?"

Ruth seemed unfazed. "Isn't it obvious? Her ladyship and I are making the device you requested."

"What I want to know is what my wife is doing here."

"I've asked her ladyship for her assistance. If you recall, I informed you countless times that it was nigh impossible to finish the device by myself within a week."

Riftan leaned over the desk until he was looming over the sorcerer. "Are you trying to get back at me by ordering my wife around?"

"I didn't ask for her ladyship's help just to annoy you. She happens to be the only literate person in this castle who can also do arithmetic. It's not as if I could ask the knights for help now, could I?"

"But you think it's acceptable to ask my wife?!"

"R-Riftan, I really d-don't mind," Maxi quickly cut in.

Riftan gave her a sharp look, making Maxi's shoulders quiver. But after all that Ruth had done for her, she could not allow him to be berated thus.

Trying to keep her voice even, she continued, "I-It's not difficult, and more i-importantly, it's f-for Anatol. I d-don't want something s-similar to h-happen again."

"I'll make sure it never happens again." Though Riftan's voice was now softer, he still looked irritated. "But there's no need for you to put yourself in danger."

"And what danger could she possibly be in? Are you afraid she'll die from the prick of a quill?"

"You're prone to starting fires with the flick of a hand! And why are you here instead of your tower? What if you start a fire?!"

"What I'm making is a protective device. The chances of an explosion or a fire starting are slim to none! The worst that could happen is that the library becomes safer."

Riftan scowled, irked that he had no further arguments to make. Maxi gently tugged at his tunic. She knew that the best way to stop two hounds from fighting was to separate them.

"P-Please don't be a-angry. R-Ruth says i-it's safe."

"I'm not angry, just worried." Riftan sighed. "Fine. Help him if you must, but don't overexert yourself. And Ruth, don't you even think about involving my wife in dangerous experiments."

"Just what kind of person do you think I am?"

"A loose cannon."

With that, Riftan pulled Maxi toward him. In the past, a frown from him had been enough to terrify her, but strangely she now felt no fear at the fact that a large, angry man was pulling at her arm. His displeasure still made her anxious, but she knew that he would not hurt her.

"That's enough for today," said Riftan, leading Maxi toward the door. "You can carry on on your own for the rest of the day."

Ruth quickly rose from his seat. "Where are you going without your armor?"

"Nowhere. Even I need days of rest from time to time."

Maxi's eyes went round. Seeing the same surprise on Ruth's face, she surmised that Riftan rarely took rest.

"But what about the intruders?"

"I've sent a messenger to Livadon. They'll be released once I receive compensation. Until then, keep them alive in the dungeons."

"What if his father refuses to pay?"

"Then I'll cut off their—" Seeing the look on Maxi's face, Riftan stopped and waved his hands at Ruth. "I'll take care of it."

"Fair. Enjoy your day off. It's well deserved."

"How gracious of you."

Maxi turned to nod goodbye to Ruth before exiting the library. In the corridor, bright rays of sunlight flooded in through the windows. Riftan looked out the window for a moment before turning to Maxi with bright eyes.

"We'll need something warmer before we go out. It's a fine day, but the wind's chilly."

"W-Where are we going?"

"You have your own horse now. You should take her out before it gets too cold. I'll show you a good place to ride."

Maxi's lips parted in surprise. She was pleased that he wanted to spend time with her outside the bedchamber.

"B-But you m-must be tired. M-Maybe you should r-rest..."

"I'm not an old man, Maxi. But if you insist on spending time in the bedroom..."

Maxi caught her breath when she saw the desire in his eyes. Her face burning, she cast her eyes down. Riftan laughed softly and pulled her into a firm embrace.

"It's tempting, but we are going out today. I want to show you, my land."

After changing into a dress more suited to riding, Maxi followed Riftan to the stables. With the help of the stable boy, she led her beautiful new white mare outside. Riftan followed behind with his mighty war horse, which Maxi immediately recognized as the one that he had ridden on their journey to Anatol.

Riftan gently stroked the horse's neck. "You remember Talon, don't you? Aside from his fiery temper, he's as perfect a horse as you could wish for."

"D-Do you like h-horses?"

"I've dreamt of having one ever since I was a boy of ten. And Talon here is the best among all the horses I've had."

Riftan rubbed his cheek against Talon's muzzle. The sight suddenly filled Maxi with jealousy. She turned away, mortified that she was jealous of a mere beast. According to the teachings of the church, nothing was more shameful than a woman's jealousy.

Riftan stepped toward her. "Have you given her a name?"

Maxi shook her head, trying to rein back her emotions.

"N-Not yet."

"You should choose one soon. She'll warm up to you faster if you call her by her name."

"W-What should I n-name her?"

"It's your horse. You should be the one to decide."

After mulling it over, Maxi said, "R-Rem..."

Riftan smiled playfully. "'Rem' because she's white? I see that my wife's imagination is wanting."

"I-It has a n-nice ring to it." Maxi did not mention that the inspiration for the name had come from the order of knights under his command.

Just then, a groom came to saddle the horses, and Riftan helped her onto her horse. Still unused to being on horseback, her body stiffened reflexively. She clutched the reins nervously.

Riftan stared at her awkward posture. "You're not used to riding, are you?"

Maxi nodded, embarrassed. "I never l-left Croyso Castle. Th-There wasn't much ch-chance for me to ride."

"I know. I heard the rumors. It was said that the Duke of Croyso's eldest daughter avoided the outside world because of her delicate disposition."

Something in his voice made Maxi nervous.

"I-I didn't know th-that was how p-people perceived me."

"The Duke of Croyso is one of the most powerful men in the Western Continent. It's only natural for people to take an interest in his daughter. And unlike your sister, you never made any public appearances, which only served to inflate their curiosity. I know of a knight who sneaked into Croyso Castle just to catch a glimpse of you."

Maxi avoided his gaze. She had been entirely unaware of such curiosity.

"H-He m-must have been d-disappointed," Maxi said brightly, trying to mask her self-doubt.

"How so?" Riftan turned to look at her, frowning.

"He w-went through all that t-trouble just to s-see an ordinary-looking w-woman."

Maxi tightened her grip on the reins as she tried to feign nonchalance. Calling her looks ordinary was generous, but she did not want to go so far as to admit that to Riftan. Her ears turned red.

Riftan slowed down to ride by her side as they made their way toward the back gate. "I have to disagree. I find you charming."

Maxi smiled awkwardly, certain that he was only being polite. "Th-Thank you."

Riftan frowned. "It's not my habit to say things that I don't mean. If I didn't find you alluring, you wouldn't drive me into a frenzy when we're alone together. Or had you forgotten because we had one peaceful night yesterday?"

Maxi's whole body flushed with embarrassment. At a loss for words, she opened and closed her mouth repeatedly. Riftan leaned in closer and cupped her chin with his hand. Her heart began to pound when she saw the desire in his eyes.

"Perhaps riding was a foolish suggestion. Shall we turn back?"

Maxi shook her head, and Riftan straightened his back with an inscrutable expression. She could not tell whether he was smiling or frowning.

"Then let us hurry. We don't want the sun to set before we've even left the castle."

Maxi trailed after him, trying to calm her racing heart.

[imalwaystiredzzz]

Ｃ3： Ｔｏ Ｓｉｎｇ ｔｈｅ ｓａｍｅ ｏｌｄ ｈｙｍｎ

WARNING:  explicit not SFW, Sexual content, yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, noncon, blood, gore

< To sing the same old hymn chapters >

"This is the way the world ends, not with a bang but a whimper." - T.S. Eliot, The Hollow Men

Sukuna stumbles upon a village of lowly farmers, he finds it amusing that they begged and would offer him even their beloved daughters in exchange for their lives. He remembers the shrine and the devout maiden.

This time the curse plays god, he lets them live in exchange for a temple fit for a king and a sacrificial maiden every summer and winter. He imagines them crumbling in despair in a year or two, slowly succumbing to the madness of having all this blood in their hands but the lowly village thrives.

In the third life, (y/n) was born in a rich village who worshipped a god that descended from heaven and resided in the temple at the mountain. In exchange for safety and prosperity, the village would offer him a maiden and keep the temple clean.

These sacrifices were bred from the noble family of (l/n), the girls from a young age groomed to be the idea of a perfect woman fitting to be offered to a god. There was no love for the god that your family honored, but fear that resides in your heart. Deep in your bone, you know this is a lie, your sisters were not taken to the heavens by god.

The cicadas sing in summer, as you wear a red Furisode , the flowers blooming in the sleeves like a garden. Your mother thinks red is your color, you don't tell her you prefer the color of the sakura. Your older brothers giggle and talk of how lucky you are to see god, they were picked for birthing the next generation. All eyes are turned to you as the festival for your coming of age began.

Everyone asks what you may wish for and it will be given today, you simply smile and continue to eat small treats, it feels too much like the final supper. You couldn't stomach any food.

When evening came, you were garbed in the finest of fabric you've only seen your cousins, aunts and an older sister wear. It extremely resembled that of a Miko's attire, you hope to bring something to remind of home but tradition doesn't allow it and yet underneath the layers of cloth, you hold a temari ball. The small sounds it makes when the pavilion jolts bring comfort from the fear that's making the tips of your finger shake.

Imagine his surprise when he sees you again in the flesh. Sukuna believes in reincarnation as much as he believes in the existence of gods. Garbed in beautiful robes, the (h/c) woman prostates herself before him. He's amused, here you were offered like a lamb once more.

Sukuna thinks that if gods other than him did exist they must be extremely cruel to curse your soul for a sin he had made. So this time, because he was your god he would grace you with a different torment.

So he doesn't kill you, the curse keeps you isolated in the huge temple. There was the blind errand boy to give you supplies and clean the place once a month, yet he avoids even your shadow lest he wants to incur the wrath of a god.

You feel like you were forgetting how words worked as you haven't talked to a soul since a month of coming here.

It makes you stir crazy and childhood nightmares were resurfacing, waking in the middle of the night wide eyed. You were unsure if it was the same monster or your mind was replacing it with the four limbed god. In the middle of the night, when the marked god wasn't back you would go out and play with the temari ball. It reminds you of home, the bells bring comfort.

Your god, comes and goes on a whim but never stays too long. Sukuna simply checks how you were, with the bonus of hearing your gasp and cries as he takes you to bed - he never did get the pleasure of hearing those pretty lips wail in your first life.

But it wasn't enough. It was never enough.

He get's bored, sometime he contemplates how he'll kill or torture you on the way back to the temple but remembers how you died at his hand the last time. He has yet to meet an interesting toy, the way you interest him.

The cicadas were singing as the heat season ended, the nights were becoming colder and longer. He hears bells, and wonders to it like a moth to a lamp only to stumble upon the (h/c) girl playing in the empty lot, her (e/c) brimming with life and nostalgia.

He slowly frequents the shrine now, from the monthly visits he makes a point to show up at least twice. Sukuna enjoys how you prostrate yourself when he comes, those pretty eyes becoming duller following his form as he goes out the room, the slight hints of clinging. He likes that.

The curse endulge the idea of having you follow him like a god, to sing those hymns and praises in his name, for you to devote yourself to him like he was your world.

Sukuna was selfish and he only knows how to take and take and take.

The snow falls outside the shrine, the sound of footsteps and ring of bells from the familiar pavilion, Sukuna waits for the next sacrifice with you by his side pouring sake. You'd rather be here than alone.

A girl prostrates herself before the god, wearing the same clothes you once don. You'd rather be by his side than alone.

He tears her limb from limb, she cries for help, an arm reaching out to you before being torn and eaten. The floor is red with the same blood that flows in your veins, the devil enjoys his meal.

You'd rather be with the devil than the ringing silence that makes you mad.

He tears your clothes and has his way with your body, next to the mutilated body of your little sister. Tears gathering in the corner of your eye at the unprepared penetration, you wonder how you'll get the blood out of your hair.

The devil likes this too. He keeps you like how one keeps a trained pet.

He stays in the temple a bit longer now, Sukuna boasts about his carnage while drinking sake that you pour for him. You have no stories to tell, and he's not interested. Sometimes he forgets about the first life, sometimes it bothers him.

He tests the water and asks about past lives, but all you can tell him is that you dream of a four armed god, omitting that these weren't just dreams but a nightmare that had his face as the monster. Sukuna was sure that those dreams are memories of the first.

He likes that too. He must have left an imprint on your soul, wouldn't that brand you as his?

More seasons come and go, you count the year by counting the death of your kin but nothing changes.

There was only you, the big empty temple and the four armed god that you worship. You slowly forgot what the outside looks like, but that didn't matter all that mattered was god favors you and keeps you by his side. You cling to him, the way he wants you to. Your now pale hands can't feel anything and the nightmares never stop.

You grew on him, quite like how an owner grows to favor a pet dog.

(Y/n) lasts 7 years before falling sick.

The cicadas sing as you lay on the futon sweating and breathing heavily, you stare at the window the sun is gone. You hear a familiar bell, Sukuna places the temari ball beside your bed, he leaves you to suffer a slow painful death of starvation and sickness.

Sukuna has no use for a sick pet.

He feels a tinge of regret but doesn't linger on it.

He burns the village before the sun rises.

*Furisode : is a ceremonial clothes in Japan for coming of age, coming of age is when a girl begins her menstruation

*Mikos : are shrine maidens, they wear a white top that looks like a yukata and a red hakama. >For visuals in the movie "Your Name," Mitsuha wears these clothes when she was dancing.

*Temari balls are hand balls made by parents and given to children on new year. It can have decorations like bells and contain a parent's wish inside. >The temari ball that you received from mother contains a wish that you die at a young age or swiftly when you're offered.

*Mother, father and the whole village knows what happens to the girls, but she can't say anything coz she's the matron of the family. Sacrifice children are left in religious ignorance.

*Your family often gives birth to females (that's why they were chosen) and the males are required to have many many children since sacrifices take 2 kids a year. That's taking into account you have many uncles and aunts.

[theprocrastinatingredkitty]

If you’ve been reading Sweetener Series since May 2020, I’ll just let you know I’m keeping tabs on which events in my fics happened way before PotN Season 2 started in July 2020

1) Seungho gives Na-Kyum sweet snacks everyday when he finds out that Na-Kyum likes sweets (Sweetener)

2) Seungho got angry at Deok-Jae for putting a fishbone in Na-Kyum’s meal; punishes him and the entire male staff on the first try (Unbridled Bride)

3) Na-Kyum stops Seungho from beating Deok-Jae up, and gets sedated; Seungho kills Deok-Jae after seeing him attacking Na-Kyum; Na-Kyum gets hurt on the neck for being choked (Unbridled Bride)

4) Seungho eats Na-Kyum out; Na-Kyum’s actually really kinky and wants to be tied up and filled with Seungho’s D even in sleep (The Warbler’s Honeysuckle)

5) the kidnapping happened (albeit through different circumstances in canon) (Unbridled Bride)

6) Seungho doing the aftercare for both of them when Na-Kyum’s asleep (Warmth of the Aftermath)

7) Seungho bathes Na-Kyum on a regular basis; carries him all the time when they’re done (Warmth of the Aftermath)

8) Min expresses desire to take Na-Kyum before Nameless kills Na-Kyum off (Unbridled Bride)

9) Jihwa had a mental breakdown (The Tainted Lamb)

10) Nameless hauled Jihwa over the shoulder after making a ruckus in public (The Tainted Lamb)

11) Na-Kyum was found near the end of the village, passed out (Unbridled Bride)

As of Chapter 64 in the manhwa:

12) The Yoon servants and Seungho turned the village upside-down just to find the missing Na-Kyum (Unbridled Bride)

13) The villagers all think that Seungho had gotten a female bride-to-be (Unbridled Bride)

14) The kisaeng who raised Na-Kyum appears and gets to know the relationship between Seungho and Na-Kyum (The Wildflower’s Thorn)

15) Na-Kyum’s kinky side gets unleashed the longer he’s with Seungho (Warmth of the Aftermath).

16) The tailor accidentally blabs to Min that Seungho has chosen a bride (The Worshipped Shrine) (interchanged in the manhwa as of c64 with Heena)

As of Chapter 65 in the manhwa:

17) Seungho and Na-Kyum have sex outside while standing up as they make their way to the bathroom (Sweetener: Tangy)

18) After the kidnapping, Seungho has made sure the doors to his room have guards to keep Na-Kyum safe (The Tainted Lamb) (interchanged with c65 so Na-Kyum couldn’t escape)

As of Chapter 66 in the manhwa:

19) Min goes to Seungho’s residence after the kidnapping, without any other noble with him and downplays Na-Kyum’s ‘disappearance’ and possible death as trivial (The Tainted Lamb)

As of Chapter 67 in the manhwa:

20) Seungho hides Na-Kyum behind the folding screen while Min is present in the room to lure Min to his death (interchanged with the manhwa where Min and Jihwa hide behind the folding screen to avoid the rampaging Seungho) (The Tainted Lamb)

21) Jihwa, in fear for his life after being spared by Seungho, but at the cost of his sanity and a face beaten up by Nameless, flees to Hanyang to seek Lord Song for help (An Innocent’s Duality)

As of Chapter 68 in the manhwa:

22) Seungho proclaims adoration and complete worship of Na-Kyum; asks him to be his family (Sweetener: Tangy)

As of c70 in the manhwa:

23) Seungho asks Na-Kyum to have a bath with him and Na-Kyum accepts; they wash each other thoroughly. They take baths together since then. (Warmth of the Aftermath)

As of c71 in the manhwa:

24) Seungho teases Na-Kyum about his smooth legs while in the bathroom; reveres Na-Kyum through body worship in the bedroom afterwards and reaffirms his confession through words and lovemaking (The Worshipped Shrine)

25) Seungho takes sheer pleasure and relishes in eating Na-Kyum out (Winter Heat; The Warbler’s Honeysuckle)

As of c72 in the manhwa:

26) Seungho asks Na-Kyum to call his name in the middle of worshipping his body; confesses to Na-Kyum that he loves him in a roundabout way the morning after (The Worshipped Shrine)

As of c73 in the manhwa:

27) Seungho fulfills Na-Kyum’s painting of Na-Kyum, blindfolded, with his hands tied up and his phallus wrapped up with the sash from his robe (Winter Heat)

As of c74 in the manhwa:

28) Seungho dines with Na-Kyum and starts showering him with sweets (Warmth of the Aftermath)

29) Seungho comes to Na-Kyum’s quarters at dawn just to check in on him every day (The Warbler’s Honeysuckle)

30) Seungho showers Na-Kyum with new clothes and brings him to the talkative tailor all the time (The Worshipped Shrine; The Wildflower’s Thorn)

As of c75 in the manhwa:

31) Seungho makes no attempt at putting In-Hun in any government post, but decides to halt all chances of him getting into any job despite passing the state exam (The Wildflower’s Thorn)

As of c76 in the manhwa (Season 2 finale):

32) Seungho gives Na-Kyum a lacquered box for his paints as a present (The Worshipped Shrine); gives Na-Kyum a foreign item (the mittens) from a merchant, and expands his horizon in acquiring Western items from a merchant (the matches, slingshots, pistols, rubber) (The Wildflower’s Thorn)

.

Imma keep updating this as the story progresses in canon XD

[ghostofstudentspast]

Hide and Seek

#5 “Yes I’m bitter, it’s part of my charm.”

Draco x Reader

Another one for @nebulablakemurphy ‘s 500 celebration!!

This was going to be longer but I don’t have access to my laptop for the next two weeks and wanted to post this 😅

“Draco please,” you begged for the millionth time that day, “you know Pansy won’t go to Hogsmeade when it’s snowing, and I don’t want to go alone.”

“Hogsmeade is for kids Y/N,” the boy sitting next to you on the dining bench rolled his eyes and continued eating his breakfast and ignoring you.

“We are kids you prat,” you elbowed him in the ribs ever so lightly.

You’d been friends with Draco Malfoy for as long as you could remember. Your families had always been close, as pureblood circles usually are. Together you had played hours of hide and seek in the manor gardens before Hogwarts. When it was finally time for the two of you to head to school, you had nervously clung onto Draco’s hand for the entire sorting ceremony, all the way until they called your name.

It was lucky you’d been sorted into Slytherin, most of the people you knew were sorted there and Draco was no different. He wasn’t your best friend, but he was your oldest friend. This was exactly the reason why you could never in a million years tell him outright that you were hopelessly in love with him.

“Fine, if you stop whining I’ll take you,” the blond boy muttered without looking up from the book he had folded open on the table.

“I knew you’d come around,” You grinned and returned to your breakfast.

“You’re lucky I love you,” he teased and lightly kicked your foot under the table with a smirk, never taking his eyes off the pages in front of him. You nearly choked on your toast but managed to hide it with a cough.

It wasn’t uncommon for you to be affectionate towards each other. A hug, an arm around your shoulders, one of you messing with the other’s hair, it still caught you by surprise every time.

Like now, Draco had one arm slung over your shoulders as the two of you walked through light snow to get to Hogsmeade. Even through layers of sweaters and gloves, you swore you could feel the heat radiating off his arm. With the tiny snowflakes sticking to your hair and robes, it was comforting.

“You should really come stay at the mansion for a few days over Christmas break,” Draco squeezed your shoulder with a small smile, “Mum hasn’t stopped talking about you since…well since forever now that I think about it,” he let out a short laugh.

“We’re already coming down for the yearly ball Draco, I can’t just live at your house,” You laughed and shook your head. Narcissa doted on you like you were her own child and Draco never stopped making fun of you for it. He always swore she loved you more than him.

“Yeah but I never get enough of you,” he smirked as your cheeks darkened to a terrible red. At least you could blame it on the chill, usually it was painfully obvious. Sometimes you forgot how flirty your friend could be, and how much it actually affected you.

“I’m sure if you beg hard enough I can find some time,” you bit the inside of your cheek to keep from grinning like a fool every time Draco cast a glance at you.

“Speaking of begging,” he stopped walking, people milling about you, making their way into the small town a few streets down. “I know you really don’t want to and you hate doing me favours but would you be my date for the ball this year?”

The Malfoy Christmas ball, an annual tradition beloved by all Pureblood families. It was a chance for everyone to get together, catch up and let loose a little. You loved those parties, it was a chance to see all of your childhood friends and dressing up was always a guilty pleasure. As a kid, you’d mostly spent the night running through the manor or stuck to your mother skirts. No one expected you to really behave as a kid but after the age of sixteen, everyone’s parents pressured them to bring a date and act ‘adult’. It was just how it had always been done, and even though you were aware how old and stiff Pureblood traditions really were, you couldn’t exactly say no.

Normally Draco was quick to get a date, he was handsome and smart, and no intelligent Pureblood would turn down a Malfoy. You however, were a little less enthusiastic about the prospect of dragging a random boy along with you all night. Nevertheless, you did (ditching them as soon as your parents had a glass of wine in them).

“Dray you know I would but…I’ve already said I’d go with Theo.” Your mouth tilted into an apologetic smile as you shrugged. Your heart was pounding in your chest, the one-time Draco asked you to go, even just as friends, and you already had a date…Fuck.

“You’re taking Nott? Seriously?” Draco scoffed, giving you a look of disgust.

“What’s wrong with Theo? He’s a nice guy!” You crossed your arms defensively. Draco was never a fan of your dates, he was just protective over you, but it still got on your nerves.

“Yeah he’s nice to you because he wants to get under your skirt,” he sneered and rolled his eyes.

“Oh my god, you’re so bitter!” You said, throwing your hands up in frustration.

“Yes, I’m bitter, it’s part of my charm,” he sighed accepting defeat, “come on.” He grabbed your hand and steered you into Hogsmeade again hoping to get out of there faster, so he could wallow in self-pity.

“You call it charm, I call it having your head up your ass.” You shake your head but let him drag you along anyway. “Listen if it makes you feel better I’ll help find you a date alright? I already know who’s going with who, the girls won’t shut up about it.” You chuckled to yourself at the thought of your dormmates and their late-night gossip sessions.

“Alright fine, but you better not stick me with Bulstrode,” Draco’s tone was snippy, but you knew he wasn’t really annoyed. He only wants to go with you as a favour, not a real date, you couldn’t help but think.

Finding Draco a date was easy. You had barely mentioned it to your dormmates in passing before Daphne had practically pushed her younger sister forward like a sacrificial lamb. Astoria was a shy girl, only a year younger than you. It was her first year taking a date and the poor girl had been wrecked with nerves, so Daphne had been on the lookout in her stead.

The worst part was, Astoria was gorgeous. She was this petite girl with gorgeous long dark hair and the clearest skin you’d ever seen on a teenager. It was awful. Not that you were jealous of course, you just knew she was more Draco’s type than you would ever be.

But with your mum’s help you had been primped into the elegant daughter of a Pureblood family. It really was a once a year occasion. Your dress robes were fitted perfectly to your size and your hair had been curled perfectly by expertly performed magic. Not yours of course, your mum’s.

With a soft pop your family apparated to the front gates of Malfoy Manor. Theo was waiting for you there and gave you a big grin and a wave when he saw you appear. You waved back and met him halfway to the large iron gates barring entrance to the mansion itself. You parents left you with your date and continued up the walkway.

“Hey Y/N,” Theo smiled and roped you in for a hug, “you look really nice!”

“Thanks, you too,” You picked at your dress robes and tucked a bit of hair back into place. Theo was in most of your classes and you were always happy to buddy up with him for projects. He wasn’t exactly the smartest, but you had a lot of fun together and you didn’t mind doing most of the work anyway.

Theo was dressed elegantly in basic black dress robes, he was never one for extravagance and you kind of respected that about him. Taking his arm you made your way through the manor, knowing exactly where to find the huge ballroom it housed. Draco often complained about the house because it felt so gloomy and empty sometimes with only the three of them living there. However, with music pouring through the halls and people laughing and talking over each other it felt very much alive and warm.

The pair of you were careful to avoid the dance floor and make your rounds among old family friends. A friendly chat here, an ‘I haven’t seen you since you were this small’ there and introducing your date to family members. It was a formal start to the night but it was always better to get it over with before the adults had too many glasses of fire whiskey in them.

Draco hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off you since the moment you stepped foot in the ballroom. You were all smiles and laughter as you walked around talking to Theo. His own date had been trying to get him on the dancefloor for the past twenty minutes but Draco refused to let you out of his sight for a whole song.

You looked stunning. To Draco you always did, but sometimes he forgot how much you affected him. He watched Theo whisper something in your ear and you responded by throwing your head back and letting out an obnoxiously loud laugh. Draco thought it was the most amazing sound in the world. Though, he was less pleased by the thought of someone else making you laugh like that.

“Do you think someone put a hex on him when he was younger, so he’d permanently look constipated?” Theo whispered in your ear as the both of you watched Professor Snape sneer at the people on the dance floor.

You couldn’t hold back your laughter as you watched your teacher grimace when someone tried to speak to him. You knew he was close with the Malfoys, but you always wondered why he actually showed up to these things. It was however a great source of entertainment for the evening.

“Nott good to see you,” The blond appeared out of thin air in front of you.

Subconsciously you held your breath as you cast a lingering look over his appearance. Black robes with a dark green lining, hair perfectly gelled back showing off his aristocratic bone structure. You swore you were melting into a puddle in front of his eyes.

“Cat got your tongue Y/L/N?” You hadn’t even noticed him speaking to you. You drew your eyes back up to his and a mischievous smirk rested on his lips as he repeated, “Dance with me.”

“That’s not a question,” you jab Draco’s side but take his outstretched hand anyway. “see you in a bit Theo?” You smiled at him as he nodded and shooed you away with a wink.

“You know I like you in green but if you were going to match me you should’ve just come as my date,” Draco smirked and pulled you closer to him. His hand slid easily to your waist as you rested yours on his shoulder.

“Oh, shut up,” you rolled your eyes with a smile on your face, “you don’t own the colour green.”

“I’m glad I don’t because you’ll always look more stunning in it than I ever could,” he leaned in to murmur in your ear, his hand squeezing your hip ever so lightly. If he hadn’t been holding you, you were convinced your legs would have simply given out under you.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” you responded shakily. His slate grey eyes bored into yours and he almost looked like he was searching for the answer to an unspoken question.

“Draco!” a female voice called from a few meters away and the boy in question closed his eyes and groaned.

“If we run now, do you think she’d find me?” he whispered dramatically. The girl stalking towards them was in fact his date.

“Wanna find out?” You whispered back with a cheeky grin and grabbed his hand before pulling him towards the large double doors of the ballroom.

The two of you ran through the hallways of the manor side by side, robes whipping about you and footsteps echoing behind you. The two of you were laughing your heads off by the time you had escaped the house into the gorgeous gardens. Together you ventured farther into the garden, a light frost covering the grass and plants surrounding you.

“Draco?” This time the woman calling out your companion’s name was unmistakeably Narcissa Malfoy. She did not sound pleased at her son’s antics at all.

Draco’s hand found yours again and he pulled you along with him behind a nearby tree. You opened your mouth to complain before he covered it with his hand and shook his head. You could hear Narcissa retreating back into the house, but Draco didn’t move. Instead his fingers lightly touched your cheek, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone.

He was so close you could smell his cologne, it was earthy and warm, and you were back to being in danger of melting. You were nearly chest to chest and his body caged you in against the tree. You felt your breath hitch as his eyes left yours to look at your lips. His cheeks had a light pink flush to them as he swallowed and licked his lips.

“We should really go back.” He said softly without conviction. “I’m sure Theo will be wondering where his date ran off to.” He teased with a quiet laugh.

“Draco?” you said softly and he hummed in response, “shut up.” You breathed and pulled him in by the collar of his dress shirt.

You kissed him with everything you had. It wasn’t slow or tender, it was fiery and passionate just like the both of you. You kissed him for the first time like it could be the last. He kissed back with everything he’d been holding in for years.

He melted into your touch and pressed you against the tree trunk with his body. The bark dug into your back but you could only pay attention to how soft his lips were and how he was a really good kisser. His hands roamed from your waist to your rib cage to your hair as he feverishly kissed you.

He reluctantly pulled back for air and searched your face in the moonlight. The cold air doing nothing to cool down the heat in your cheeks. Draco’s eyes were wide and for the first time in your life he looked unsure of himself. You looked at him in that moment with all the love in the world and couldn’t help but smile. His face was just as flushed as yours and his perfect hair fell into his eyes from you running your fingers through it.

He leaned in to kiss you again but this time softly, so gentle as if he was afraid your break under his touch. As if he wasn’t sure you were real at all. He kissed your nose, peppered little kisses along your jaw and kissed every inch of your face. He leaned his forehead against yours, noses bumping gently.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he sighed, eyes closed. You could hear the smile in his voice and your heart fluttered.

“I can guess,” you giggled lightly and gave him a quick peck on the lips.

“I am so incredibly in love with you,” his voice was barely above a whisper and held all of the emotion you couldn’t see on his face.

“I love you Draco, I always have,” you smiled brilliantly and kissed him again, never wanting to leave the hidden spot you had found for yourselves.

“Time to face my mum now I suppose?” He grimaced and buried his face in your neck with a sigh.

“Together,” you chuckled and grabbed his hand, placing a light kiss on his golden hair, “at least you already know your mother loves me.”

[baoshan-sanren]

A Series Of Unfortunate Events: Floor Mats are a Thing

a part of the Nielan Arranged Marriage AU that exists mainly because the bed-breaking anon did not actually get to see any beds being broken

also, because a little smut never hurt anyone (except for me because I’m terrible at writing it and yet I keep trying)

and also because @acutebird-fics made this art I have not stopped thinking about for a single moment in over a week

They do not break the wedding bed like that.

Even the insinuation is preposterous. Their wedding bed is obnoxiously large and extremely sturdy, and Lan XiChen cannot possibly imagine the type of intimate activity that would... result in such damage.

Except that this is mostly a lie, because he is capable of imagining a lot of things, and does so on daily basis.

MingJue, of course, is to blame for this. Lan XiChen distinctly remembers a time in his life when his head was free of inappropriate thoughts. When he could easily focus on a book without remembering MingJue’s fingers on his cheek. When he could move through his sword forms without the relentless burning in his thighs reminding him of their activities from the night before. When he could listen to MingJue speak in a crowded hall without imagining the man’s hot breath panting into his ear, words whispered into his hair, teeth sinking into his neck.

MingJue has no shame whatsoever. He has no reservations about vocalizing every inappropriate thought that crosses his mind. All of them are likely to make XiChen hard in moments; most of them make him want to die from mortification. His husband is a terrible, awful person. XiChen loves him so much that it physically hurts him. It is a constant source of pain in his chest, sweet and overwhelming.

But they did not break the wedding bed like that, and to be fair, although most incidents of such nature are MingJue’s fault, this one is solely on XiChen.

He had spent the day behind a desk, dealing with one tedious issue after another. Springtime is always a busy time, whether one is trying to run a Sect, or a small family farm. The previous year, XiChen had still been in the process of learning how to run the Unclean Realm, and A-Sang had readily taken on any burden that XiChen could not handle.

This spring, A-Sang is at Cloud Recesses, attempting to pass for the fourth time. XiChen may have spent months preparing A-Sang to achieve this goal, but he still very much regrets sending him away. Never more so than on days like these, when small insignificant matters pile up so high that he cannot see over his desk, and when every person in the Unclean Realm seems determined to seek him out.

Needless to say, by that evening, he is stiff, bad-humored, and restless. His mind is still preoccupied, and he cannot seem to settle down or relax. Afterwards, it will occur to him that their... intimate activities would have probably worked just as well to unwind him. Except that only a small part of him is interested in a physical activity; the greater part of him just wants to fight something until he is exhausted.

Despite the fact that sparring in the bedroom is MingJue’s idea, XiChen is the responsible adult in the room, and as such, should be the voice of reason. It is a nonsensical suggestion, and XiChen should firmly decline.

He does not.

BaXia versus the wedding bed score: 1 for BaXia, 0 for the wedding bed.

--

It takes two days for the new bed to be built. In the meantime, they discover that the bed in XiChen’s Cloud Recesses room is a torture device in disguise. XiChen would never disparage A-Sang’s abilities, and he knows that the bed had been chosen with utmost care. But it is a bed clearly built for one person. A person who sleeps on their back, with their arms crossed.  

The first night, they fall into it in a tangle of limbs, neither one considering the fact that this is not their large, abnormally sturdy wedding bed. By the time they realize that perhaps some adjustment and caution is necessary, two of the curtains have been torn down, and XiChen has bruised both his knees. But caution has not yet made an appearance in their lovemaking, MingJue is listing all the ways in which he intends to employ his tongue, and XiChen is absolutely devoid of any coherent thought process whatsoever.

In addition to all this, MingJue wears entirely too many layers. XiChen hates all of them. He is not alone in this, as MingJue is quite resentful of XiChen’s layers as well, and more than one silk robe has had to find its way back to the seamstress hall. The fact that MingJue can never wait for XiChen to be fully undressed, before his mouth has latched on to any exposed flesh, is entirely to blame for what occurs next. XiChen pulls on one end of his robe, MingJue tears at the other, both balancing precariously on the side of the bed, and the material decides that this is simply too much abuse to bear.

The robe rips, MingJue’s knee slides, and XiChen, feeling himself tilt forward, attempts to grab the wooden post. He misses spectacularly.

Three full days pass before MingJue can see out of his blackened left eye.

--

The next incident is in no way related to any bed, or any activity involving XiChen. He is utterly blameless. He is as innocent as a newborn lamb. Whatever issues MingJue seems to have with the seamstresses can in no way be blamed on XiChen, as he treats all twelve of these women with the proper amount of reverence and respect, and is adored by them in turn.

MingJue’s relationship with these same women is somewhat more... complicated. XiChen understands that there had been an event, prior to his arrival in the Unclean Realm, involving silver brocade and MeiLing. He does not know the details, but he does notice that MingJue always seems to dress himself with care, as if expecting his newly sown robes to attack him at any moment.

XiChen finds this overabundance of caution both endearing and silly. The seamstresses are lovely women, infinitely accommodating, patient, and good-natured. He cannot imagine them holding on to some small slight for over a year. They are servants, not assassins waiting to strike when MingJue finally drops his guard. XiChen spends some days convincing MingJue to give up this nonsensical fear of retribution, and is majorly successful, although he still catches MingJue eyeing his clothes with suspicion on more than once occasion.

By the time the spring robes arrive to replace the heavy winter clothes, MingJue has relaxed completely, and does not hesitate to shrug into a new, lightweight coat. When less than three hours later, he develops a rash on his neck that looks as if he had been mauled by a wild beast, XiChen is the only person shocked by this development.

--

The new bed looks as large and sturdy as the first. It is put in place midday, and XiChen does not spend the rest of the daylight hours thinking about the nightfall, his husband, the bed, or anything including all three of those things together. He retires for the night as soon as the sun is down because he is tired. Being a Sect Leader’s husband is exhausting work, and XiChen only wants to sleep in a bed where he does not have to worry about elbowing his husband in his sleep.

As it happens, MingJue also retires early, because he is tired as well.

To be clear, XiChen does intend to just sleep. He does not have any ulterior motive. Still, two hours later find him slick with sweat, thighs burning, toes curled into the the fresh sheets. By now, MingJue is bearing the brunt of his weight, fingers digging into XiChen’s hips, holding him in place at just the right angle, where XiChen can do nothing but whimper. It is a position he still cannot picture in the daylight hours without burning with shame. Sprawled across MingJue, his back pressed to the man’s chest, legs quivering on either side of him, every thrust excruciating, impossibly deep, hitting every pleasure point along his spine. One of his arms is wrapped around MingJue’s neck, fingers buried deep in his hair. Although he feels closer to him this way, he will often hide his face in the curve of MingJue’s neck when the sight of his own body, flushed with pleasure, is too much to bear.

MingJue is merciless like this. The sheer strength of him is astounding. He has held XiChen’s body in the same position for hours, the rhythm of his hips never faltering, never stuttering, each thrust precise and ruthless. XiChen never wants him to stop. XiChen thinks if he does not stop, the pleasure will surely kill him. He has been on the razor’s edge for hours, centuries, and the sounds leaving his mouth no longer resemble human speech in any way. MingJue is a terrible, cruel creature, determined to make him suffer. XiChen loves him. XiChen loves him so much.

There is a creak, a rumble, and the bed collapses.

--

MeiLing is silent for a long time, which is very much unlike her.

XiChen has been married to MingJue for over a year now, but MeiLing’s request that he meet her for tea had still caught him by surprise. He had been made aware, early on, that she does not bother with courtesy. She does not have pointless conversations, does not perform aimless visits, and is unlikely to give out compliments for a job well done. XiChen has not spoken more than ten words to the woman since his wedding day, and has always understood that her absence from the Unclean Realm is a sign of approval, rather than neglect.

As long as XiChen performs his duties well, MeiLing will find something more interesting to occupy her time.

The fact that she is here now, sitting across from him, fills him with anxiety. He had done something wrong, or he had failed to do something, but no matter how much he searches his memory, nothing stands out.

“There are rumors,” she says abruptly, and XiChen is taken off guard again.

Rumors? What rumors?

Immediately he thinks of A-Sang at Cloud Recesses, and his anxiety increases. Has he gotten himself in trouble somehow? Has he said something he should not have?

That seems very unlikely. A-Sang would be more apt to start an inappropriate rumor than be the focus of one. There is no gossip in the world so damaging that A-Sang cannot turn it to his advantage with very little effort. This cannot be about him.

MeiLing is watching him carefully, as if waiting for something, but XiChen cannot guess what that something could be.

“What rumors are these, nainai?” XiChen asks finally, no longer able to bear the silence.

“Two broken beds in less than a month.” 

XiChen feels his face heat, and fumbles the tea, nearly spilling the hot liquid on his freshly mended robe. 

“Ah,” he says, “This.”

She hums over her cup, still watching him, but he has suddenly found his own teacup extremely interesting, and intends to focus on nothing else for some time.

“There is also the black eye,” she goes on, “and something about a mauling.”

XiChen squeezes his eyes shut.

He would like to be back in Wen RuoHan’s torture cell now please. Or perhaps on the receiving end of Wen RuoHan’s whip. Anywhere else in the world, bearing any type of torture, would be a blessing in comparison.

“I am very pleased,” she says.

Lan XiChen would like to die now. He would very much like to-- what?

“I must admit, I was skeptical in the beginning. Do not take this the wrong way dear, but you do appear to be very delicate on some matters.”

Delicate. She-- what? What is happening?

“I am glad to see A-Jue has made a good match. Although perhaps, in the future, you may consider spreading some mats on the floor instead. Bedmakers can be notorious gossips.”

XiChen realizes that his mouth is open, and closes it. His face is burning. Even his eyes feel hot.

He should be saying something. Anything.

“Ah,” he says.

That clearly does not fall into the category of speech, and he tries again.

“Ah-- thank you. For this advice. I will-- keep it in mind.”

“Good,” she says, “I believe that was uncomfortable for both of us, so let us speak of something else. Tell me about A-Sang. How are his studies progressing?”

--

It takes him three days to even consider the idea without feeling embarrassed, and another three to have a number of mats delivered to their chamber without wanting to die from shame.

--

They are nowhere near where they started; somehow, MingJue has squirmed half-way across the bedroom floor, and now, he can go no further, cornered between the wall and the bed frame. XiChen has one of his thighs trapped firmly against his waist, rock hard and slippery with sweat, feeling each tremor of the muscle under his grip. XiChen’s other hand is occupied, three fingers buried deep in a slick, tight space, angled to hit the small bundle of nerves on every pass.

MingJue is beautiful like this. Although XiChen is not so bold to speak words of praise the same way MingJue often does, he hums his approval each time MingJue’s hips jerk off the mat in search of friction, his stomach muscles quivering from the effort. His eyes are glazed and unfocused, eyelashes heavy and damp, lips bruised from the earlier kisses. Most of the time, XiChen cannot stop him from voicing every thought that crosses his mind, but now, nothing that leaves MingJue’s mouth resembles words. For the first time, despite numerous ways they have made love, he feels vulnerable under XiChen’s touch, mindless with lust, trembling and fragile. He does not beg as XiChen would. Each time his fluttering eyelashes lift, his clouded gaze is on XiChen only, as if nothing else in the world matters.

XiChen had wanted to know how long it would take, for MingJue to come like this, with no other friction than the one his fingers provide. But now, a fierce protectiveness floods his throat, savage and hot, threatening to obliterate anything else. There is a small pool of slick already collected on MingJue’s stomach, and his flesh sears a path across XiChen’s lips, before he can capture the length in his mouth. To XiChen, he has always tasted like salt and steel, the savor of a battle won. This time, he scarcely has a chance to taste it before MingJue cries out, muscles contracting around XiChen’s fingers, flooding his mouth with release.

MeiLing was right.

The mats are a very good idea.