#so bold so sweet

[zombiequeenblog]

I was thinking about what the Cardinal must have thought when he saw Terzo carrying a bleeding Mouse and I imagine it was one of many instances where he wondered if he could get away with committing murder in the middle of the hallway. 😂

Here's a brief account of the Cardinal’s day before he turned down the hall and spotted Mouse, carried in Terzo’s arms, bloody and hurt from her fall outside.

You can read it here on ao3 if you'd prefer...

The Cardinal wrenched up and out of his dream, sheets clammy and twisted. His bare chest rose and fell, shaky breaths filling the dim room, early dawn just beginning to thread through the cracks of the dark heavy draping, and he realized he had wound his hand so tightly in the top-sheet his fingers were numb. Copia swallowed and allowed himself to fall back on the crimson bedding, staring up at the canopy above. He felt entirely unrested. 

She was dead, and he had been left to be vivisepultured within the coffin of a desolate life.

No. This was insanity; he was merely recalling the nightmare. Letting his eyelids drop, the smudges of black that never entirely left him still adorning his lashes, the Cardinal let himself remember.

A darkened chapel, hushed with grief. White candles burning with timid, reproachable flames, and pale flowers everywhere; lilies with sallow pitying hearts, and unbloomed roses, the Grenache blush within unseen. The thorns less so. All petty adornments utterly unworthy of what lay on the altar underneath a sheer white sheet.

Copia felt himself retch, and he quickly disentangled himself from the bed’s trappings of comfort, sitting up on the edge with his feet on the floor. His room was cool in its grandness, empty of idle folly and wretched fears in the stark beginnings of the day. Satanas. All was well. 

She was fine, he had seen her only yesterday, had he not? And he would most likely see her again today. Busy with her various tasks, clipping around corners in those darling mary-janes she liked to wear inside, her pleated skirt swishing. Or maybe she’d wear her more fitted one, and he could better enjoy the little curve of her ass when she wasn’t glancing nervously behind her. 

Copia breathed out slowly, running his hands down to rest on his knees, soothing himself with familiar thoughts of lust and debauchery. The girl lying helpless beneath him, her clear eyes wide if he wanted her to witness his cruel satisfaction, or closed in a purposeful stupor if he didn’t. Fine dark lashes fluttering, beginning to wet with budding tears he would cause her regardless. Delightful. Complete and utter control. Even as this indecent vision interspersed with the one of her in white, the Cardinal felt himself stiffening below in his boxer briefs. He let out a sigh, almost chuckling to himself. He really was monstrous, wasn’t he? Perhaps this was why the apparently and suddenly judgemental aether was tormenting him with the most wretched nightmares he had ever had in his life. His fists suddenly clenching, Copia almost smashed the crystal water glass he’d left there on his nightstand, feeling the frustration rising almost greater than his now throbbing and rigid cock. 

A shower then, both to wash away the terror sweat and to house a violent emptying into his furiously stroking fist, painting the tiles hot and thick as he groaned out his ghastly desire. Lest he rush downstairs to seize her at the gates, to ravage her on the front steps like a brute as soon as she arrived. That wouldn’t do. 

He whispered out his name for her, into the room’s emptiness, and setting a grim smile on his currently pale lip, the Cardinal shifted carefully and stood up to begin his mundane day of sin.

Later, the Cardinal stepped with purpose down the hall, cutting a commanding figure indeed in the black paint and cassock which denoted his station. Tall, dark, and handsome, in every way that said traits could be possibly simplified. But Copia was not a simple man; he juggled multiple roles within this subversive faith he truly respected, had dedicated his life to. Many facets of his position were presented in turn, to whomever required his skills, and in this way he went through the morning like a meandering but accurate arrow. Buffeted now and then by a trifling problem, a question in need of an answer, or guidance to come to the answer oneself. He handled it all; counsellor, comforter, educator, administrator. All these roles he employed, and employed fairly well, even with a niggling dread in the back of his sharp mind.

Not a dread of her, but rather of the thought alone of the absence of her; this vexing little creature who had captured his heart. Who haunted his very dreams. It was maddening how he couldn’t be free of her, and she didn’t even yet share his faith! This very faith which gave him the conviction to administrate to her in his own personal way. Passing the doors of the chapel, alone for one unblessed moment, he forced himself only to recall what he wanted; the sounds he could coax out of her lips when he was slowly sliding his cock inside her. How tight the feeling was, how her tense body responded to make his heart thrill. The little trembles, the gasps, the screams. How she would shake just before she came. Uncontrollable; she couldn’t hide it from him, he knew. How she loved the ways he could hurt her, and how she kept coming back to coax further hurt from him to suffer sweetly through.

He had never suffered under such a dark obsession before in his life, much less acted upon it. As he continued to walk the abbey’s passageways his thoughts were consumed with her; perhaps he was going insane.  He didn’t see her every day, but he could swear sometimes that he could smell her, taste the sweetness of her mouth, and her cunt, her very blood; could hear her own tremulous heartbeat running frightened, and utterly threaded throughout his own. Perhaps that was just his own fear, intertwined forever now within this terrible love so new to him.

He turned a corner and saw her covered in blood. 

Her face white as a sheet, her body limp in Terzo’s arms. Terzo, who was calling to him now. Her own mouth silent. Copia felt his entire world shattering around him. 

“What the hell happened?” he heard his own voice say. Suddenly he was with her, inside the medical room, and she was breathing, she was alive, she was looking right up at him with those eyes of light illuminating his entire purpose. 

Those same eyes dropping in shame, she explained how she had fallen and been hurt, like it had been simply trivial, no big deal. He wanted to strangle her, to kiss her until she begged for a breath. Perhaps he’d satisfy himself with slaughtering Terzo instead, in this very room.

“What the fuck was she doing up a ladder?” he snapped over at his distressed colleague. He couldn’t take his eyes off the blood flowing from her poor leg, it really wasn’t serious; his educated hands knew what to do on their own, but inside his mind he thought he might go mad with strain.

Everything was eventually sorted, even her stitches, his poor mouse suffering through that with an exquisite grace all her own. He almost took her right there on the cot, almost lost himself in the intoxicating beauty of her agony. And then it was done, she was safe and needed rest, and he needed to flee from her shivering breaths and the pulse in her delicate throat and the tears drying in rivulets upon her pale cheeks. 

He needed to remove himself from her, and go prepare. And later, when she thought herself safe still, upstairs in a room all alone in the dark, he would come to her. He would come, and he would attend to her again. He would drive the idling nightmare from his mind by indulging himself in his want of her, his need of her body and her soul. Her mind would remember nothing, but he would have something excruciatingly sweet to mull over until she came back to the abbey. Back to him, back right where she belonged. 

And he would give her exactly what she needed as well. 

[mercisnm]

They have different ideas of morning greetings.

(references are from the 2013 production of the play Private Lives)

[canisalbus]

If your still undecided about what modern au Machete would have as a job, I would like to nominate him as a niche fashion model. Not like a popular celebrity, because he's not conventionally attractive, but he has that aura. He can Walk (in heels!!!)

I want to give him an excuse to wear all different kinds of fancy clothes, basically. He deserves to be dressed to the nines and glare down at an audience from the runway.

.

[spidvrbatz]

Caregiver!Bruce Wayne (The Batman; 2007)

x - x - x

x - x - x

x - x - x

// pt - dni: nsfw accounts //

[good-beansdraws]

Wooooo did an art trade with @ruvikdraws , I got to draw her lovely oc, Emilio! It was so fun drawing him -- he has such a sweet design and I hope I did him justice 📸✨️

[pacifistcowboy]

thinking about espio “overly dramatic and a fan of the traditional way of doing things, probably including romantic gestures” the chameleon and silver “massive fan of gardening and plants and nature” the hedgehog. something something silver loves flowers and flowers are a very customary romantic gift

espio would make silver a bouquet and go out of his way to choose flowers specifically for their meanings, and silver would actually know what all the meanings are and find this to be the sweetest and most romantic thing anyone has done ever. espio will be riding this high for months.

[obscuriites]

mitsuri stimboard, credit me and original gif makers if using my filtered gifs. // 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9

[diehellasrache]

This is our new small son Pancake Augustus Surname-Surname, he weighs two pounds and is quite difficult to photograph

[trans-xianxian]

okay so as one of the people who years back had misunderstood your previous url, i definitely think the whole christian thing is such a reach... why would you have it twice. ? in addition to the obvious of like. wwx being a central focus. like it CANT possibly be more than a couple of people who made this mistake????? insane to me

I KNOW I'M LIKE. at Least two people have made this assumption and more have agreed that its reasonable and I just. I. in what world. In What World, on a blog about cql, of which wei wuxian is the main character, whose childhood nickname is "xianxian", is it more likely that "trans-xianxian" means "transgender christian" over trans wei wuxian, the guy whose nickname is "xianxian" and who is the main character of the show this blog is about. I can't stress enough how much this blog is about a show in which the main guy is called "xianxian" Numerous times. how does christianity make more sense in this situation

[laulo821]

wanting to confess to crush but hes got a dad friend (who's also my dad friend) who's telling me both to slow down cowboy and to just book it and date my crush. like dude. youre Not Helping plus I Know Already Old Man

[sysig]

Pivotal bright spot (Patreon)

[atomiclace]

who knew that some agere people would be the worst type of people to exist (talking about you spinny)

[frodo-with-glasses]

MY CABBAGES

[nostalgia-tblr]

thing about them Thor movies is that i reckon if you depose a king you've pretty much commited yourself to murdering him (preferrably via a method that doesn't look like murder, but either way that guy's toast) but nobody else seems to agree with me in this fandom and so i look like the weirdo fixated on regicide :'(

[etoiile]

chigiris hard to write for bc hes SO INCONSISTENT.

i dont think he has a type. i could see him being into the calm and collected and also the sweet and bubbly.

he's very feminine and hair care and skincare but he also gives big dick energy.

hes composed and soft-spoken, but also stubborn and sassy.

the list goes on but you get it. hmm this is giving me a fic idea actually...

[psychicthepsychic-daily]

GF: Oh god, he texted you "hi." Punctuation only means one thing, BF. He's mad at you. BF: No, it's Psychic. He's just being grammatically correct! *meanwhile* Psychic: And then I used a period so he'd know that I'm mad at him. Mearest: A period doesn't say "I'm mad", it says "you're dead to me". Psychic: I stand by my choice.

Dearest: If we lose, you’re out of the will. Psychic: I was in the will?

Psychic: Please say words of encouragement to me so I don’t murder someone right now. Sumire: There are no books in prison. Psychic: *sighs* Thank you.

Psychic: If I may interject... Radi: Oh, awesome, Psychic was eavesdropping.

BF: Pick a card, any card. Psychic: Fine. BF: Wait, that's my credit card! Psychic: You said any card.

Void: It’s not gonna work, I’m not a snitch. Cop: Fine, let's try something else. Tag a friend you recently committed a crime with. Void: Lmao @psychic