threecardtrick:
He managed the household as a whole, which took time and effort, and there is always much to do, even more when the master or mistress were having a craving. But he was not unaccustomed to hard work and he did not despise it, so as long was he was valued for his contribution. He had in his hands a pile of dresses, which he was bringing over to one of the servants so that she might repair them, in whichever way they needed to be. Perhaps a small tear here or there, an unraveling thread… He was lost in this thoughts as he strode down the hallway, not noticing her right until he was about to pass her. He halted immediately, head bowing down. “How may I assist you, mistress?”
He was forever exactly where he was needed. An astounding feat since one with such varied and extensive skillsets seemed to be needed everywhere at every time, and it was no normal man’s prerogative to be quite so particularly omnipresent as to compete so completely with God. But this was precisely for which he was so handsomely paid, and but one of the many causes of his unchallenged position in this indecent palace.
Lashes flick at the contents of his current carriage and dismiss them as detriments to the ease of the forthcoming conversation. Without stall, she snags a passing maid with swift direction to relieve him of his overbearing burden. “Linette, do aid Cromwell and abscond with his fabric-rich charge. I’ve need of all his assets and faculties.”
Dutiful sprite that she is, the girl follows to the leaning of the letter of her instruction, waiting long enough only to hear any addendums from his own lips, before setting off in relation to the relay.
Once clearly cornered amongst themselves again, the Lady returns all attention with renewed vigor to her man, a faint hint of amusement touching the artic twitch of her lips, “I’ve a question to put to you, Cromwell...if you’ll indulge me the asking. How well might you take to an invitation to dine in the company of holy men and hellhounds?”
4 notes
·
View notes
deathless ♚ sentence meme
You will always fall in love, and it will always be like having your throat cut, just that fast.
You are going to break your promise. I understand.
You’re lonely too.
It will stop your breath, how cruel I can be.
I am a demanding creature. I am selfish and cruel and extremely unreasonable.
I am your servant.
I crawl at your feet; for before your love, your kisses, I am debased.
For you alone I will be weak.
I belong here, and you will not deny me.
I say these things, and the world listens.
I do not tolerate a world emptied of you. I have tried.
In the dark, I have pored over the loss of you like pale gold.
I will not let her speak because I love her, and when you love someone, you do not make them tell war stories.
I moved the earth and the water for you.
You will always run away with her.
You will always lose her.
You will always be a fool.
You will always be dead, in a city of ice, snow falling into your ear.
You have already done all of this and will do it again.
No one should be judged for loving more than they ought, only for loving not enough.
We look terrible to you, and severe, and you see our blood flying.
What we carry between us is hard-won, and we made it just as we wished it to be, just the color, just the shape.
There need never be any rules between us.
Let us be greedy together; let us hoard.
Do not leave me, swear that you will never leave me.
I am selfish. I am cruel. My mate cannot be less than I.
Sleep with fists closed and shoot straight.
I can’t abide a poor liar.
You look like a winter’s night. I could sleep inside the cold of you.
Oh, quit that. Blushing is for virgins and Christians.
Scold me; deny me. Tell me you want what you want and damn me forever. But don’t leave me.
Bad luck relies on absolutely perfect timing.
In his own country, Death can be kind.
What is the world but a boxing ring where fools and devils put up their fists?
Men die. It’s practically what they’re for.
I am no one; I am nothing.
Nothing in me was not made by you.
A revelation is always the end of something. It might even be cause for grief.
Just tell yourself a story that’ll satisfy you and pretend he told it.
Forever isn’t bright; it isn’t like that. Forever is cold and hard and final.
I savor bitterness - it is born of experience. It is the privilege of one who has truly lived.
If you want to kill yourself, do not use us as your knife.
What did I do wrong? Was I boring? Did I ignore you?
Don’t you dare speak to me like that.
I have worn nothing but blood and death for years.
I have fought all your battles for you, just as you asked me.
I have learned not to cry when I strangle a man.
I have learned to watch everything die.
I am not a little girl anymore, dazzled by your magic. It is my magic, now, too.
Are we not devils?
No one is now what they were before the war.
I have not seen you without your skin on.
Close up your head; your brain is getting loose.
We obsess. It’s in our nature.
I’ve a devil of a habit for being right.
In war you must always choose sides.
If you try to be a bridge laid down between them, they will tear you in half.
We are all dead. All equal. Broken and aimless and believing we are alive.
My old bones will follow yours soon enough.
It is better to be strong and cruel than to be fair.
I will see him with his skin off before I agree to fall in love.
After love, no one is what they were before.
I have survived, but I have not been spared.
In the space of one heartbeat to another I loved you and I was lost to you.
Frighten me, make me cry, only come back.
It’s not so bad, my darling. Being dead. It’s like being alive, only colder.
You’ll think it’s love, while he dines on your heart.
You will be so beautiful when you are old.
I cannot keep you and I cannot let you go.
You will live as you live in any world…with difficulty, and grief.
I look at you and it is like my throat being cut.
She said you’d come and I swore to eat your heart.
I still want to kiss you.
My heart is being cut in two. I cannot bear it.
What happens to anything beautiful?
I have to know, I have to or else you will just rule me until the end of everything because you know and I do not.
34K notes
·
View notes
diamond, peridot, citrine, sapphire
diamond: crossdress or bondage gear
More likely to crossdress as a highwayman and rob other’s carriages and dinner parties than to ever don the dress of her pets. But maybe…very rarely. Once or twice if ever for the latter. It would have to be an individual who has her absolute trust.
peridot: blindfold or tied up
Blindfold. But again….for the right partner…maybe both.
citrine: striptease or clothed sex
The Marquess very rarely engages in sex. Though there is something appealing in being so feverish with lust that removing articles of clothing aren’t even considered. But she is much more likely to perform a strip, forcing her patrons to sit silently and not move while she does so.
sapphire: sleep with someone younger or older
Young men are made for shaping, not for sexual exploits. An older man, well educated, knowledgeable is much more her tastes. Young men are free to try and intrigue her, however, if they think they can manage it.
0 notes
“And is He grateful. This God, Abbe?” Curiosity is not complacent in her questioning. He will be compelled to answer. To explain. “Does He croon and congratulate your efforts? Praise those pretty prayers as they pass panting from your starving, straining throat to His holy ears? Shall we all sing so for our salvation?” She remains, predominately, a philanthropist and philosopher...with a penchant for pinching the breath from all human beings.
erotic thought meme: What lovely whimpers those lips could loose. (from marqucss)
meme | confess!
@marqucss
As administrator of an asylum, the Abbé had heard many and varied descriptions of deviance in his confessional. But until now, he’d never heard anything that so inflamed his cheeks and heated his collar, the impact of the innuendo magnified tenfold when he considered the source. He’d thought nothing could surprise him; he’d been wrong. He was thankful for the visual privacy afforded by the screen that separated them.
“My child, the prayers that leave my lips are the Lord’s concern.” He’d say more, but thought best to leave it at that. She’d already raised thoughts for which he’d be confessing later, and God alone would hear the whimpers let loose by the self-administered flail.
5 notes
·
View notes