I Wonder Who Is Lighter Confessing His Love To? ❤️

If I did bunny!Lycaon, of course I'm gonna do bunny!Lighter 人( ๑ ｀∇´๑)ᵐʷᵉʰᵉʰᵉʰᵉʰᵉ

Emet

you have become my muse

Thank you, I've displayed this somewhere where I can always see it.

★彡 devoted little lamb!

synopsis: to worship was your purpose and it only made sense that this extends to the most beloved of priests.

contains: afab/fem reader, sacrilege, blood sacrifice, power imbalance, reader is a virgin, f.receiving oral, and fingering.

a/n: this is a full 3k words of blasphemy. please enjoy cuz i sure did!! ꒰(͏ˊ•ꈊ•ˋ)꒱

father Alhaitham was something of a miracle worker for you. with any troubles you could trust he’d dispel them with so much as a goblet to your lips and a prayer unspoken. such power, to anyone outside the church, should warrant fear. it should warrant caution and even a call to the matra. even in a world of elements, gods, and visions he was unnatural and worthy of bone trembling terror. you should find your skin prickling with fear upon the favour he bestowed to you yet, so much as a single raised hair was never felt. much like any other that attends his sermons, you revere father Alhaitham; he comes only second to your beloved god. blessed by the archon of wisdom herself, father Alhaithams knowledge knows no bounds. through his eyes you’re sure you could see the innermost workings of anything those viridian hues laid upon. he is positively worth all of the commotion the people, yourself included, give to him.

with slender fingers, he shuts the heavy text he’s surely already memorized. with every sermon you feel as though you see a new and more impressive side of father Alhaitham. no doubt, his mind and body are akin to the most divine of pastries; smooth layers to which only the most delicate and sharpest of knives could split open to admire the inner beauty. only metaphorically, of course, would you dream of splicing him so carefully. his voice reverberates over the room. honey smooth and laced with dominance came all his words; almost practiced, though, you knew he wouldn’t need it. what is practicing worth to a man who already has it all? his light bow and gesture for the acolyte to trail him had your guts in knots. a man as self assured as himself would make a lovely god, you think.

the cool tones, ones that nearly matched his eyes, of many stained glass windows shimmered down his form much like stars opening at his wake. you wouldn’t have been entirely surprised if the sky had opened up to gift him his own ever present galaxy. royal blue, gold, and jade painted over his already handsome features to create something you would have painted had you had the time. his skin and hair nearly glittered with how delicately the light graced him as though he was only porcelain, a vessel handcrafted by Buer for her most perfect messiah. one she’d fill with riches and a soul of the most lovely. his shoes made a soft ‘clack’ with each step he took across the hand tiled floor. you heard rumours that each one had been individually blessed by father Al-haitham but you wouldn’t dare bring such a ridiculous statement to his attention; you only desire to keep his favour. after every sermon you’d wait for the majority of the congregation to dispel before leading yourself to his office, your own personal taste of heaven.

the hallways are linear. to get from point ‘A’ to point ‘B’ was a task even a freshly born puppy could do so the first few times you got lost, father Alhaitham reprimanded you with a firm hand on your shoulder. he wasn’t truly mad but you felt something you’d never felt before when he mumbled about how, ‘you’re such a silly one. a lost little lamb, hm? no matter, you’re here now.’ with a voice that reached your stomach it was no wonder how he’d managed to wrap you around his finger. with gentle knuckles, you knocked against the bright wood door. the man in question opened the door as if he’s been waiting on the other side for your arrival; due to routine, he had been.

“you’re here. come now, today will be a bit… different from our usual sessions. i’m afraid i have concerns about your… state,” such words he’d never spoken to you before. with knitted eyebrows he re-closed the door before giving you a once over, right hand under his chin. the room was already dim due to the window facing away from the sun but with his presence seeming as though it loomed alongside your demise, it felt even darker. he stepped towards his desk which had already been covered in a number of tools you’d seen before; a rosary, a glass of holy water, a golden goblet of dandelion wine, and bread. yet, one was unfamiliar to you; what looked to be a freshly polished silver knife, a cross engraved in the handle. father Alhaitham glanced over his wares before letting out a long sigh and nodding to himself as if receiving his own approval. maybe after this you’d be on the end of this nod rather than a collection of objects. he spoke without turning to look at you, “i sense what can only be described as sin bubbling up within you,” he shook his head with clear upset, “this cannot go unattended. you are one of my, and our gods, most wonderful treasures. please, allow me to purify you.” had you not been so trusting of him you’d have thought your god was an afterthought in his actions but fear flourished faster than you could think. with trembling legs and tears beading in the corners of your eyes, you begged. you begged for him to make you clean once more, for whatever this sin was to no longer afflict you, for father Alhaitham to praise you once more. those with sharp minds would decode your words accurately; you were begging for his love, not your gods. he swivelled and his gaze found you once more, “righteous as always. forgive me, but i require you to remove all your clothing. on our beloved god, i will not look for the sake of your modesty. instead, i will busy myself with the final preparations for our ceremony.”

he rolled up his sleeves to reveal the pearly skin of his forearms. on other occasions perhaps you’d stop to admire the display of skin but you were given a task, to strip. your shaky fingers began removing your clothing and folding it nearly on a small side table located in the corner of the room as he prepared the stone altar against the window with a combination of holy water, myrrh, sweetgrass, and sage. father Alhaitham took his time delicately preparing the surface, hands lovingly applying the mix and massaging it into every crevice with a level of sensuality that had you averting your eyes. with all clothing shed, you modestly covered your most intimate parts while mentally steeling yourself for his eyes to land on you. when he turned, if he had any feelings about the view of your body in its most natural state, his expression did not waver from one of concern. before ridding his hands of all residue, he gestured to the stone alter, “please, lay down.”

cold, damp, and unpleasant were all words you could attribute to the experience of your bare skin atop the surface. your nose wrinkled a slight bit and you tried to find comfort in knowing it would heat up through your body and that this is all for your own good. after this, you’d be clean of sin once more. father Alhaitham returned to your side, rosary in hand. nimble fingers gently guided your shaky ones to hold it the way you had many times before when praying at his side. typically, you found that he had no patience for any nervousness but it today, for you, he made no comment or move to chide you. though you were lying down, soon bread was placed against your palate by his own hand. he gently drew it back to caress your cheek with what could only be described as the most tender of care. with such worry directed to you by father Alhaitham, you could nearly cry; it’s a blessing in its own right. the goblet soon followed, wine pouring into your mouth and the slightest bit down the corner and across your cheek. this time, no hand came to remove it though his eyes followed its path down your neck. he swallowed harshly and paused in his movements momentarily before turning back to take up the knife. if you were nervous before, you were terrified now.

“relax. i promise i would never do anything to you that wasn’t required, especially if it involves pain,” he almost looked as if your pain would be his own and perhaps it was. you didn’t dwell on this thought for it was a selfish one. the pain of any loyal worshipper of the same god would be his own, you are no special exception. “for this portion, i will draw gently upon your form. along each arm and leg, from the bottom of your ribs to your navel, and across each breast. this knife is sharp so it will take no more effort than the weight of the handle. i urge you to refrain from moving.” you sucked in air in tandem with him as the blade first came to your sternum. his words were most certainly truthful, expected of a priest, as he added no extra pressure when gently dragging it lower. the first thing you registered was just how cold the tip of the knife is, the second was the sharp pain. your slight wince didn’t go unnoticed as father Alhaitham mumbled an apology. he raised the knife from your flesh when it came to the end of his mental line. the blades edge took on a dark sheen of your blood that he looked over. his most beautiful eyes inspected the silver before dropping to where the knife had cut; he hummed in satisfaction before bringing it to just below your left hip, the next place he’d cut. father Alhaitham took to softly singing a hymn you were familiar with, seemingly to comfort you as the blade came across all your limbs in the following moments. it rose up to your chest where he gulped. no longer could he ignore just how bare your are under him and just how dollish your eyes were as they fluttered, glazed over in both pain and fear. while his right hand placed the knife appropriately, his left came to cup your cheek. with his thumb soothing across your flesh, you barely noticed how he cleanly cut atop each of your breasts. you were simply too caught up in the delightful feeling of his skin against your as you lay exposed to his lowered gaze. had you not been so assured in the professional nature of this encounter, you would have noticed the increasing thickness in the air that could only be attributed to the intimacy and the arousal you had not noticed pooling between your folds; father Alhaitham did.

he stood up straight and drew away from you to admire the work he had done. your form under the soft light of the window and painted in your own blood, the most lovely of sacrifices. the goblet was in his hand once more as he brought it to collect the blood dripping down your waist and sides, mixing with the remnants of wine previously drank. the metal was wonderfully blunt compared to the blade that had just split your flesh open. with what he gathered, father Alhaitham dipped his thumb in to draw the horizontal and vertical lines to complete a cross on all seven of the cuts he had made; one for each element of Teyvet. he was more than satisfied with his work, if the soft smile gracing his features was anything to go by.

“my dearest little lamb, it pleases me greatly how well you’ve done for me here but,” he seemed to be conflicted by his next words, “would you allow me to indulge myself in you?” the meaning of his words was lost on you but how could you ever decline him? how could you ever decline the one that has given you purpose, light, and salvation should you ever need it? you nodded and half expected him to request your words as he always does but, today only a movement was enough for him. “please, continue holding the rosary as you are.” strong hands pulled you down the stone by your knees until you rested with your lower legs dangling off the edge which elicited a sigh from your most beloved priest; your pliancy always did please him. with hands still on you, he gently parted your legs as he kneeled between them before speaking in a tone lower than you had heard before, “consider this my own kind of worship.”

your face was certainly flushed already but it heated up tenfold as his tongue made its way through your soft folds and you could hear him sigh as your grip on the rosary became tighter. he used the tip to gently poke through and play softly with your virgin entrance, one hand coming up to push the lips of your pussy open much like a flower blooming. your hips jerked slightly as his nose came in contact with a spot you weren’t familiar with but that felt so very good. a whimper left your throat as a moan left his, the vibrations travelling through your cunt and causing a whole new gush of slick to leave your pussy. eagerly, father Alhaitham lapped it up before bringing his lips to your clit. he planted a couple soft kisses to your pretty and glistening nub before wrapping his lips around it and suckling oh so perfectly. he knew you were a virgin but didn’t expect you to come undone on his face with only a slight suck to your cute little clit. a sudden and loud whine left your mouth as your back arched to push your pussy further against his face. the feeling of an orgasm was entirely new to you but you were already addicted to the intense pleasure brought by your priest. he leaned back slightly, panting and in reasonable amounts of shock from such a sudden reaction. with your wetness still on his face, he mumbled to himself, “apologies but i suspect i’ll have to worship for awhile longer.”

you didn’t even have time to come down from your first high before his face was settled into the heat of your core once again. a small sob left your throat upon the contact but you couldn’t help the way your hips bucked up to meet his mouth. father Alhaitham, as always, knew exactly what you wanted and needed. his tongue worked wonders as it gently fucked into your hole, where his cock would rest at a letter date, and his fingers moved to gently flick at your clit. he buried his face impossible closer to you only to inhale the scent your pussy let off, one he could spend the rest of his days smelling like some sort of inhalant drug. his mouth and fingers swapped places so he could lathe over your clit and provide teasing nips to the sensitive bundle. with one gently finger, he circled your hole to gather more wetness before slowly plunging into you. as if an apology for the sting, he kissed at your clit endlessly before twisting his finger to provide the perfect angle he needed. with your utmost comfort in mind, father Alhaitham waited until your sobs subsided before fucking you gently with the single finger. he curled it slightly and made sure to push up against where he knew would have you writhing on the alter as he nipped once more at your clit to keep you grounded in the reality of his face between your legs.

for a man with, what you assumed, no prior experience he sure knew how to fuck you without his dick. all his concentration was solely on how much he was falling in love with your pretty pussy and how much he wanted to die buried between your thighs. gods be damned, you were his new religion and your moans his scripture. he was pulling orgasm after orgasm from you, rutting against the side of the alter. his cock rubbed harshly against the stone through his pants and while he mourned for the warmth you’d most certainly provide, he’s nothing if not patience. you, his most devoted lamb, were to be rewarded with all his mouth can give. your grip on the rosary became tight enough that it broke, beads falling down to the floor. you’d have been appalled at how careless your treatment of such a sacred object was had you not been so caught up in the pleasure bestowed to you. with eyes rolling back into your head and a particularly high moan, you drenched his face. father Alhaitham would take it as his new holy water, siphoned directly from his own personal fountain of youth and most importantly, from his lover. he panted much as you did as well but this task was far from over for him. how could he end things here when he craved so much more? when your pretty hole was fluttering so enticingly and when his cock was so very close from emptying his balls inside his pants? only a fool would hold back now, he thought as his mouth placed open kisses and bites to your thighs for slight mercy to your already abused cunt. a dreamy sigh left his watering mouth, you really do smell delightful. he spat onto your pussy in a rather debauched fashion before drawing his tongue up from the cleft of your ass to the top of your cunt. with eyes finally drawing back up and across your form, he mentally sent a genuine prayer to your shared god. one so filthy he’d most certainly be sent straight to hell upon death but he couldn’t find it in himself to care; hell could be delightful as long as you’re there with him. his eyes dropped back to your pussy.

“c’mon little one, a bit more for me. you truly are my favourite.”

this does not apply if you wear exclusively leggings. Those things tear all the time you need like a million on standby

never forget the universal rule of the order of things: People Will Not Read It

Merch day is best day <3

I had a really crappy week but at least I woke up to something good today which was more Envies for my collection! x3

i’m so glad earth only has one moon, if there were more i’d have to pick a favorite and that sounds too emotionally taxing to even fathom

Never send me an ask about these guys and Bowser ever again

Game developer: I'm gonna give this one character some extra lines of dialogue if you talk to them more than once, just for fun. Just for laughs. Me, playing the game: i have to talk to everyone twenty times in a row to make sure i don't miss anything