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wri0thesley · 8 months

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ruin - mahito x reader (2.8k)

mahito has a little present for you.

cw: not sfw, minors dni. reader is afab and mentions past wearing of a dress, no other gendered terms are used. unhealthy relationship (as is so constant with mahito), dub-con. blood, manipulation of mahito's body parts, biting, fingering. threat of future death (mahito is his own warning, let's be real!).

The strap dangles off of Mahito’s finger, the ruffles and lace and chiffon of the delicate concoction that the curse is holding blowing slightly in the breeze that runs through the sewers at night. His grin is wide enough to make anticipation that might be fear prickle over the back of your neck, and you take a deep breath and swallow as you stare at him and the garment.

“Well?” He asks you, his smile not leaving his mouth, the two colours of his eyes glimmering brightly in the night. “Aren’t you going to say ‘thank you’?”

“I didn’t know if it was for you,” you say to him, truthfully - though you’ve never seen Mahito in anything but his trademark soft trousers and shirt, he’s often tugged at your own laces and your own buttons, been fascinated by the way that garments are constructed, giggled once as he’d slipped his hand beneath the hem of a dress you were wearing to investigate the layers of tulle and organza beneath that gave the skirt shape. He’d followed you through the city once and lingered at the window of a maid cafe, wondering aloud to anyone who could hear (that, again, had just been you) what it would feel like to be one of those maids.

Beholden to the customers who walked in, calling them ‘Master’ and bowing subserviently and pulling cute little poses when asked, drawing hearts in dessert sauce atop of ice cream sundaes--

(Mahito doesn’t need to eat, but he’d snuck a few bites of an ice cream you’d attempted to buy for just yourself, back when you were pretending that he wasn’t following you and you were a totally normal person. Since then, he’s barely shut up about it - a child trying his new favourite food, pouting and whining when you try and say no to his demands. It’s easier to give him. You think it’s going to be easier to give in here, too).

His face falls into a pantomime of disappointment, his mouth pulling almost too wide at the downturned corners.

“You don’t like it?” He asks, with the air of an injured bunny rabbit. “I picked it out especially! The store had all sorts of these fancy underwears, but I looked at them all very very carefully and thought about what would look best on you and checked the size tags in the underwear you’ve left here--”

That’s the underwear that he’s ripped off of you, then. The underwear that’s a lost cause; the ones that you haven’t worn back to your shitty little apartment because they are quite literally unwearable. Mahito acts like you left them here, in his sewer, the way an ordinary couple leave the detritus of their lives in one another’s bedrooms and bathrooms and kitchens.

“It’s really nice of you,” you try and say, swallowing dryly, your eyes flitting nervously between the lingerie and the curse. “It’s just . . .”

He steps forward, his pace deliberate and lazy. You walk a tightrope with Mahito; he tells you you’re his favourite and grins at you and pokes your cheeks and you feel special, yes. You choose to come back to this sewer time and time again, to let yourself be drawn into his cool embrace and to kiss him back when he kisses you and to breathe in the scent of sweet rot and fresh grass that follows him wherever he goes. But sometimes . . .

Sometimes you catch a glimpse of him out of the corner of your eye, when you say something he doesn’t like. A narrowing of his eyes, a twist of his lip. Sometimes he speaks to you in a voice that drips with honey, but seems to hide the edge of a blade in its sharp consonants. Sometimes he laughs when you say something you mean, the tone high and cruel, and you wonder if he’s thinking about placing his hands upon you and shaping you into a thing that can no longer speak or reply or act on its own behalf.

This moment is one of those tightrope moments, you think. Mahito tilts his head to the side and repeats, voice still deceptively slow and soft like wading through molasses.

“You don’t like it, cutie?”

“Of course I do,” tumbles out of your mouth, and Mahito must notice the edge of panic because his eyes crinkle at the corners and he lets out a soft little huff of laughter. He takes another step, and then he’s in front of you - you can hear the water of the sewer lapping against concrete, your own heart beating too fast in your chest. You’re suddenly aware of everything - your breath in the air, the clothes you’re wearing and the places they stick to your body, the bead of cold sweat trickling down the nape of your neck. “It’s lovely.”

“Good,” Mahito says, looking inordinately pleased with himself - one hand reaches out for you, grabbing your chin, and before you can react you’ve been pulled into a kiss. Mahito’s mouth against yours is cool; his teeth nip at your lips without much care, his tongue teasing the seam of your own. His scent swirls around you, his nails digging into the soft underflesh of your jaw--

You feel your body respond to Mahito’s man-handling, to the knowledge of who it is who’s currently kissing you - the twist of arousal like a bullet in your gut, the heat that fills your cheeks.

He breaks the kiss with a wet pop, a satisfied look in his eyes. Limned by the shine of the moon and stars and city street lights that make it here to his little sewer sanctuary, he’s beautiful. You know you’ll do whatever he asks of you.

“Because I can’t wait to see you in it,” he says, with a grin. He offers you the lingerie again, and you have no choice but to reach out with a trembling hand to take it.

It’s clearly expensive. Mahito doesn’t pay for anything, of course - it would be hard for someone who cannot be seen by most to make a purchase at a cashier - but you can’t help the thrill of feeling special that goes through you as you handle it. It’s a little white lace number, frilled at the straps, flounced at the waist into a short cascade of ruffles that will sit high on the thigh. The fabric is sheer and delicate, wispy enough that it feels as though it might rip merely from being looked at.

(It won’t survive a night with Mahito, but as you stare down at it, you try not to think about that).

Crystals sparkle, sewn carefully onto cups and edges. The tiny ribbon tag proclaims that Mahito was right; he did painstakingly pick out your size.

He stares at you with barely contained anticipation, tapping one of his feet.

“Well?” He asks, eagerly. “Aren’t you going to put it on? I wanna rip it off as soon as I can, heh. . .”

“In front of you?” Your brow creases.

“Well, it’s not like I haven’t seen you before!” His tone is teasing, but there’s that look in his eye again; you’ll have to tread carefully, to diffuse this one. Sometimes he likes it when you play the over-innocent - finds it amusing, he says, how cute you can be sometimes. How purposely obtuse, how unobservant . . . You deliberately fiddle with the pretty piece of lingerie, press your mouth forward into a pout and will heat to come into your cheeks.

“I just . . . thought you’d like it more if it were a surprise. . .” You say, and the danger in Mahito’s gaze passes again in favour of another wide smile. He laughs, a joyous head-thrown-back kind of noise.

“Ah!” He says. “You’re right, cutie. A surprise!” He pivots on his heel and deliberately claps his palms over his eyes, enjoying himself. “I’ll count to twenty!” He calls backwards to you - you can hear the smile in his voice, the giddy excitement at your suggestion. A little tension drains from your shoulders. “When I get there, I’m going to turn around and see you in it and have my wicked way with you! One!”

When he starts counting, you realise how little time you actually have to shed your current clothes and get into what he’s given you - and you don’t particularly want to know how sulky he’ll be if he turns around to discover that you haven’t gotten his gift on in time. By the time he’s reached seven, you’re shivering and naked in the sewer (not the first time, you think ruefully), your clothes in a pile before you. You carefully tug the new lingerie on, your fingers fumbling with clasps. By the count of fifteen, it’s at least on you and fastened, though it’s not quite laying correctly and you’re pulling ruffles out from where they’ve gotten caught up with one another.

By the count of nineteen, breathless and sweaty, you’re just about presentable.

There’s no time for you to worry about how exactly the white might accentuate flaws and insecurities when Mahito is happily calling out ‘twenty!’ and whirling around with a grin on his face that seems to glow with a frightening otherworldly light. There’s one brief flash of fear the moment he claps his hands together and his eyes drink you in for the first time--

(If you’re not good enough, or found wanting, what might he do to you? Will the kisses and the proclamations of how much he likes you and adores you and how good you taste, how good you feel, how soft and warm and human and desirable you are mean nothing to him? The nights you’ve spent panting into one another’s mouths, the stuttering groan out of his throat the first time you touched his carefully manufactured cock, all come to naught?)

But then he’s grinning.

“Why,” he says, with a smile like the big bad wolf. “I did a great job, huh? Cutie, you look good enough to eat--!”

And then, like the big bad wolf all over again,in one graceful movement he’s pounced like an animal and he’s upon you.

He’s a clash of teeth and tongue, interspersed with breathless laughter and long fingers pulling at delicate fabrics. He pants into your mouth, simply enjoying himself - his hands roaming all over the curves and the lines of your body, taking great handfuls and palmfuls and squeezing them deliberately hard until you squeak into his kiss and he laughs breathlessly again.

His teeth nip at your lower lip hard enough to draw blood, and you taste the coppery droplet at the same time as you hear one the delicate lace straps rip and your shoulder is left bare.

“Oops,” says Mahito, pulling back, but by his grin and the twinkle in his eyes you have no doubt that he meant to do it - and no doubt, too, that he does not feel a shred of shame for doing so despite the craftsmanship that must have gone into this garment. “Oh well . . . now it’s broken, I won’t worry about ripping the rest of it off!”

He dives back into devouring you. His lips brush your jawline, down the line of your throat, teeth grazing and nipping at the vulnerable flesh there. Your core and your heart pound as one until you can’t tell what’s fear and what’s arousal. There’s no matching underwear for this little negligee number and you hadn’t risked Mahito’s ire by keeping your own on, so your sex is bare - and you feel a trickle of your own slick on your inner thighs, smearing damp. Your breath catches as Mahito gives you a particularly hard bite with teeth you don’t remember being quite so sharp last time he had bitten you.

He laughs again.

“You’re adorable when you’re scared,” Mahito murmurs, through a mouthful of kisses. “I can feel your heart beating, taste it in the air . . . ooh, cutie, it makes me just want to ruin you.”

Your body can no longer tell fear from arousal, though. It’s been so long, and being with Mahito is the same as having a guillotine above your head whilst there’s someone knelt between your thighs using their mouth upon you - the fear simply adds to your desire, now. You whine as he snaps the other strap and giggles as the fabric falls from your body.

It’s barely been on you for five minutes, but it’s no surprise that it will end up sodden and stained and ruined in Mahito’s sewer. It’s just like you, in that way; something bright and mortal and ordinary made into something else by Mahito’s hand.

At least it has been made into something else without the aid of his cursed technique, you suppose - and then Mahito’s hand slips between your legs and his rough calloused fingers find the seam of your sex to slip between and your mind goes blank of anything but how those digits feel, thumb and forefinger roughly finding your clit and pinching it in a way that makes you whine.

You barely notice that he’s shoving you, bullying you towards a wall until your bare back meets the unpleasantly damp concrete and brick of the sewer - all you can concentrate on is the rhythm of him and his fingers, the feel of him smiling against your bare skin. You whimper again when he pinches once more, harder this time, and he pants against your neck;

“Make that noise for me again, okay? It’s so cute--!”

One of his other fingers finds your entrance. He circles it, still giggling against your bare skin as you pant and whimper and whine pitifully into the humid air.

“Those noises!” Mahito laughs, nosing against the spot just below your ear. His teeth tug at your earlobe. “Do you even know how pathetic you sound, cutie? You’re lucky I think it’s adorable!” His finger slides into you, and you squirm as you feel the slender digit swell within you so that it pushes against your walls. Mahito is always doing this; manipulating his body when you least expect it. His cock inside of you almost so big you feel split apart, his tongue longer and longer so he can fuck you on it--

Another feeble noise escapes out of you as you feel the swelling continue, as Mahito tilts his finger just so in order to reach all of the most delicate parts of you. You wonder if he’ll stop before you fall apart. He’s still pinching your clit, still touching you, still breathing on you and panting and letting you ruin yourself for him. He twists your clit gently, just a bit too roughly to be pleasurable--

But your body has grown to known the cadence and the rhythm of Mahito’s attentions, and despite the flash of pain that emanates from between your thighs it twists inside of you into a confused kind of pleasure and you come for him, pathetically whining again, a gush of your own slick releasing despite the swollen finger-almost-cock inside of you as your body prickles all over with the confused and painful shocks of your orgasm.

“See?” He coos. “Pathetic little thing! You even like being pushed around! You like it when I hurt you, cutie! You like knowing that the thing making you come is inhuman--”

“No,” you reply, weakly, but Mahito doesn’t seem to care about your response to him - and neither does your body. As he maneuvers himself around and slots himself between your legs, your thighs part for him and his laugh is like the crowing of a bird as he reaches into his trousers and fishes out his cock, already straining and flushed at the tip and leaking precome.

His finger, an ordinary size again, slips from inside of you. You think dimly about running away - but then you look at Mahito again, so handsome, so lovely, his eyes wide and bright and excited . . . You think about how long you’ve lasted so far. You think about how he looks when he’s come, his body curled about you and his mouth curled into a smile with his eyes closed like a satisfied cat. You think about the expensive present carefully chosen for you.

“Mahito,” you whisper, into the air, your voice soft and creaky and sore from the whimpering. “I love you.”

Mahito slaps the head of his cock - he’s gone for one of his favourite shapes and sizes today, slightly too thick for you to be comfortable so your whimpers of pleasure are rasped with pain, an upward curve that hits your g-spot and just far enough beyond that it hurts - against your wet sex.

“Oh,” he says, a smile bright on his face as he slides the head inside of you and your fingers find his broad shoulders to cling onto. “I know you do, cutie. And I think that’s just about enough to keep you alive. Don’t you?”

#writing #mahito x reader #mahito smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #dub con for ts #dubious consent for ts #jjk posting #blood cw

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bebemoon · 8 months

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look for the name: BRIAR

romeo gigli dramatic off-the-shoulder open organza blazer top w/ zip pockets, s/s 1996

coperni recycled leather slim-leg trousers in black, a/w 2o23

maison margiela black patent leather plexiglass block rose heel ankle-high boots

kilian "a kiss from a rose" eau de parfum

urtekat steel rose "fava" bag in black

#briar #name #request #hope you like !#outfit #black #red #dark #rose #roses #romeo gigli #90s #coperni #leather #maison margiela #boots #footwear #bag #kilian #edp #perfume #urtekat

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chicinsilk · 2 months

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US Vogue March 15, 1968

Balenciaga Haute Couture Collection Spring/Summer 1968. Chartreuse organza petals, float over a bare oval back and elbow-length long sleeves exuding a romantic Goya light above ruched layers of organza - a long, double-skirted evening dress over narrow trousers.

Balenciaga Collection Haute Couture Printemps/Été 1968. Des pétales d'organza chartreuse, flottent sur un dos ovale dénudé et des manches longues jusqu'aux coudes dégageant une lumière romantique de Goya au-dessus de couches froncées d'organza - une longue robe de soirée à double jupe sur un pantalon étroit.

Photo Helmut Newton vogue archive

#us vogue #march 1968 #haute couture #balenciaga #cristobal balenciaga #fashion 60s #spring/summer #printemps/été #helmut newton #vintage vogue #vintage fashion

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twostepstyless · 1 year

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We're Matching

Fic Advent Calendar Day 6

Advent Calendar Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Author’s Note: Y/N makes Harry a Christmas craft gift every year, what will it be this year. If anyone wants to see the inspiration of the gift this is it here

Word Count: 1.5k

SFW

———

The tradition had started by accident really. They had spent Christmas Day separately, each with their own respective families and met back up in London on the 29th of December when Harry came to her flat so they could cook together and spend the night wrapped up in their little love bubble. It was when she opened the door to see him in his black woollen coat, one foot crossed over the other with the happiest grin on his face to be reunited with his girlfriend. It was at the exact moment she grabbed him by the lapels of that black coat and tugged him through the door of her flat, as he kicked it closed behind him and planted her lips on his, that she decided they weren’t spending another Christmas Day separately again. Coats were shed in that hallway, as well as shirts, shoes, and trousers as they stumbled to Y/N’s bedroom drunk on each other before they had even opened a bottle of wine. It was after, once they had split their meal together and they were sat on her couch that she remembered about her little extra gift for him.

“Got you somethin’” she had uttered quietly before reaching into the drawer in the side table by her couch, pulling out a small little organza bag.

“We already done our Christmas presents I thought,” he replied, looking disapproving as if she had gone out and purchased him another present.

“Yeah, well yeah we did, this is just somethin’ extra, well not extra, I don’t know, it’s silly now that I think about it,” she shook her head toying with the satin drawstrings of the tiny bag.

“Hey,” he gripped her hands that were fidgeting out of nervousness, “can I see it?” he asked as he smiled brightly, as she nodded quickly, handing him the little bag made of crisp fabric. Harry undid the strings and tipped the contents into his hand.

It’s… um, so m’little cousin got this like, beading kit from Santa, or their parents I guess, and I was just playing around with them, and I made a few different bits. I don’t know it was quite fun, thought y’might like it, y’don’t have to wear it or anything, if you don’t even want it, s’fine, I can put it with the one I kept for myself,” Y/N rambled chewing on the edge of her thumb as Harry inspected the brightly coloured hand beaded necklace that was now in his hands. It had a mixture of clear, shiny beads as well as shimmery pastel-coloured ones as well as the word loved in black-lettered beads around the middle of the string of beads. Y/N watched nervously as Harry’s fingers went to the closure of the necklace, quickly undoing it before fastening it round his throat.

“Of course, m’going to wear it,” Harry gave her a look that said he was confused why she was considering that he wouldn’t wear anything she got or made for him.

Things need to be done more than once for it to become a tradition, once is an accident. The next year was happenstance. Y/N had gone to a paint your own pottery place that you could bring your own bottle to. Her and a group of friends were there, and Y/N had drained a bottle of wine and was now on the pre-mixed cocktails her best friend had brought with her as she picked out a small plate to paint, covering it in wonky stars, moons, and other wobbly celestial bodies. Not really knowing what it was for but enjoying making it all the same. A few days later her friend had picked up their painted potteries and gave Y/N’s back to her at a Christmas party she was throwing in her flat. Y/N shuffled into bed with Harry that night, both still a bit pissed from the snowball cocktails they had been nursing that evening, and Y/N had something wrapped in tissue paper in her hands.

“What y’got there, love?” Harry asked, placing a wet kiss to her cheek as she deposited the sloppily wrapped gift into Harry’s lap on top of the duvet cover.

“Made y’something at that pottery painting place I went to last week,” she yawned as Harry pulled the little plate, covered in Y/N’s shaky drawings, glazed to a shiny finish.

“Look at you, you little artist,” Harry tilted the plate to catch the light from the bedside lamps, able to see all the colours of the planets and stars she had painted better in the light.

“Wouldn’t go that far,” she laughed. The plate now sat on Harry’s own bedside table in the home that they shared, and on top of that plate held his beaded necklace from the year before and all his other jewellery he wore on a daily basis.

This year was year six of Y/N’s Christmas craft, and Harry looked forward to it every year now. Y/N no longer had to be slightly intoxicated or was no longer cripplingly shy when handing over her handmade gifts if anything they came with threats if he took the piss out of her activity for the year. Which he never would. Harry had received a tote bag the year Y/N got a sewing machine, the following year he was gifted a cute little acrylic painting of their new puppy, Vinnie and last year she had tried her hand at embroidery and stitched a little design on a t-shirt. Granted, the stitching was a bit loose so he had taken to handwash the garment when he wore it instead of throwing it in the washing machine in case it got damaged. This year, Y/N had put the effort in big time. She had been working away on her little passion project for the last few months at least.

“Okay, close your eyes and hold your hands out, but don’t take the piss or I’ll be so sad and upset and throw a strop until you feel really guilty about it, ‘kay?” Y/N rhymed off as she gave him a wrapped present.

“Can I at least open my eyes to unwrap it, sweets?” Harry had one eye open to see her realise he would need them open to see what he was doing.

“Ugh, I suppose so,” she groaned playfully, before sitting cross legged on the couch next to him, watching as he felt the squishy parcel and untie the bow that was tied around it.

Placing the ribbon down next to him, “can I go for it?” he asked, hopefully.

“Mhm,” she bit her lip, as Harry tore off the wrappings to reveal a knitted something. Shaking it out, Harry’s jaw dropped as he took in this year’s creation.

“Y’learned to bloody knit?” Harry’s eyes shot over to her in awe as he saw her nod with a giggle. “And y’made me a jumper?” Harry held the garment up to his chest by the shoulders, the body was a cream chunky knit with red cuffs, neckline, and waist with a green christmas tree knitted on the front with tufts of bright coloured yarn sticking out from the tree as decorations.

“Uh-huh, like it was a kit to make the jumper, but suppose y’could say I can knit,” she laughed as Harry quickly shrugged out of the sweatshirt he was wearing before sitting up a bit to tug his hand-made one down over his head as carefully as he could so not to stretch it out.

“Kit or not, y’learned to knit to make me a bloody jumper,” the arms were slightly too long and she was convinced she had made the left a bit longer than the right but Harry bunched the cuffs up around his wrists so the knit sleeves just sat baggy around his biceps.

“Y’look cute,” she reached over to adjust the neckline for him.

“I feel cute, when did you even do this,” he mused looking down at himself, fingers gravitating to play with the tufts of yarn meant to represent tree ornaments.

“Been working on it since the end of August I think, had it hidden away in the back of the spare bedroom closet so y’wouldn’t see it when you were home,” Y/N grinned.

“M’girlfriend is sooo talented,” Harry beamed in pride as he leant over to kiss her deeply.

“Hang on,” she murmured before breaking away and unfolding her legs as she stood up and went over to their cupboard in the hallway, “we’ve not got to the best part yet,” she called.

Harry stood to his feet to follow her as she appeared back in front of him, wearing a very familiar jumper.

“We’re matching?!” Harry exclaimed as Y/N stood, giggling, in front of him in a replicate jumper.

———

Advent Calendar Masterlist

Main Masterlist

#harry styles writing #Harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles x you #harry styles one shot #one direction fanfiction #one direction #harry styles oneshot #twostepstyless advent calendar #harry styles christmas

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rikeijo · 18 days

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Today's translation #603

Go Yuri go!!! Official fanbook, Making of programs

Samarkand Overture

Original costume design by Sagiri Yuuko (Chacott)

The order was "Hungarian classic", so I used a basic folk design. The yellow, green and red elements are different kind of fabric sewn on the costume and decorated with stones. The crosses on the vest are strings and the bottom part of legs are white tights, the trousers are made from velour fabric. The tassels on the sides of the knees are made of leather-like fabric. Otabek is the quiet type and his vibe is a bit similar to Seung-Gil - I think they are the type of skaters that don't have many request when ordering their costumes, but they will tell you clearly if they don't like something.

Anime costume design by Ishikawa Kayoko

Kazakhstan folk costumes are very stylish and locals look so good in them - my aim when designing this costume was to make you think that when you look at Otabek. How did I do?

Beethoven's 9th Symphony, 2nd Movement "Advent" -Genesis Edition-

Original costume design by Sagiri Yuuko (Chacott)

The keyword for this design was "momentum powerful enough to found a new country". I've heard that the music is also majestic and heroic, so that was my base for the design. The decoration on his chest is supposed to be an emblem of a fictional country. In the original design the whole costume was gold. Otabek is also competing with a huge appetite to win, I think, so I gave a dazzling color a try. There is a fringe around each of his shoulders. The pattern on his shoulders, sleeves and hips is lace - I decided to finish the design with a darker color, brown or black. The lace is based on a black organza fabric, with embroidery on top that is decorated with sequins.

Anime costume design by Ishikawa Kayoko

In this design, I wanted to express cool elegance and it's a combination of Kazakhstan folk costume and matador costume. The upper part of chest is sparkly, so it looks very good in the anime, when the costume is in motion.

#yuri on ice #yoi translations #yuri on ice translation

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aiwe-the-little-bird · 1 year

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Fic: For The Lovers

I jumped on the Celebrimbor/Elrond train thanks to @thesolarangel.😁🤍 This fic was supposed to be pure smut 🔥, but it ended up being mostly plot with some good smut at the end. I'm not mad about it though. It also ended up being twice as long as planned because I just can't NOT plot.

I hope you all enjoy this one! My first attempt at Brimby/Elrond so hopefully it's not horrible. 🌸 🌸

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

Title: For The Lovers

Pairing: Celebrimbor/Elrond

Rating: 18+

Warning: SMUTTTT

“Why do you hide away up here, Elrond?”

Elrond whips around to face the speaker, relaxing when he finds it is only Celebrimbor.

“I am not hiding, my lord.” Elrond swipes a hand through his hair to try to make it look at least a tad presentable for the Elf-lord.

“No? Then why do you not mingle with the others? Dance? Sing?” Celebrimbor joins him upon the balcony, and the half-elf notices the bottle of wine and 2 glasses that he carries.

“It is a festival for lovers, my lord. I would be quite out of place down there.” Elrond places his hands upon the balcony that overlooked the gardens. Below them, upbeat music was being played and the elves danced merrily. Laughter and singing too could be heard throughout the gardens.

“But there are others down there who have no mate or lover.” Celebrimbor raises an eyebrow at him.

“Yet their goal is to find one such being.”

“And yours is not?” The elf-lord asks quietly.

“I….I do not know my lord.”

Celebrimbor hums and looks back over the crowd of elves below them. It was a joyous sight, seeing so many of the citizens of Eregion dancing with joy and love.

“Even for only one night, would you not wish to spend the festivities with someone?” The older elf queries.

“I fear getting attached to someone who will only throw me aside come morning.” Elrond’s head drops in embarrassment.

“You need not choose a lover then. There is no shame in being alone.”

“And what about you, Lord Celebrimbor? Why are you not down there with them?”

“For the very same reason, Elrond. I have no lover to share the merriment with.”

“Anyone would be happy to spend the night with you, my lord.” The younger elf says with a blush.

“There are very few I would allow so close. I do not wish to become the bragging rights of a nameless elf whose only goal is to be able to say they lured the lord of the city into their bed.” He scowls.

“I see.”

“But it is a shame that you are hiding away, especially when you look so lovely this eve.” Celebrimbor smiles down at him.

Elrond blushes and shrugs. All of the elves had dressed simply for the evenings festivities, garbed only in garments of white. Elrond himself had donned a sleeveless tunic made of organza and high-waisted, silken trousers that hugged his hips.

“Nay, I do not….” He trails off, unsure of how to respond to such a compliment.

“But you are. Come, Elrond. If you do not wish to find a lover or mate this eve, and I echo the sentiment, then join me down in the gardens. We can share this bottle of wine.” He holds up the bottle and two glasses that he had approached Elrond with earlier.

“I would not wish to monopolize your time.” He bows deeply.

“You would not be. I want to spend the time with you. We can make fun of all the love-sick fools who trip over themselves to pronounce their love to each other.”

This causes Elrond to giggle and nod his agreement. Celebrimbor takes that as his cue to turn and lead themdown the stairs. Elrond stays back a moment, eyes caught on the the tall and handsome figure making his way down the stairs. The elf-lord had chosen similar garments, though his tunic was tighter and shone with with silver threads and pearls. Elrond swallows dryly and rushes to follow after him.

Celebrimbor carefully twists his way through the elves dancing upon the grass. Several of them stop to bow to him, but he just waves them off with a smile. Elrond follows, unsure and intimidated by all the activities going around him. Celebrimbor leads him to an open, but luckily empty pavilion. Soft panels of blue fabric fell from the ceiling panels, giving them a little privacy.

The elf-lord motions for Elrond to take a seat across from him at the table there.

“You would like some wine, yes?” He asks.

“Aye. If you please, Lord Celebrimbor.”

“You are much too polite, Elrond. We are equals this night. Please just call me Celebrimbor.”

“As you wish, my… I mean Celeberimbor.”

“Good.” Celebrimbor pours them both a glass of the red wine and hands one over to the younger elf.

“Thank you.” Elrond whispers, taking the glass in hand.

“Well, since it is a night of festivities and merriment I suppose we should make a toast.”

“A toast? To what?” Elrond asks curiously.

“A good question.” Celebrimbor taps his chin as he thinks. “Ah! How about this. Let us toast to all the fools who find themselves hopelessly in love this eve, pining after their one true love. And to those who drink themselves silly and fall in bed with strangers.” Celebrimbor raises his glass.

“I will toast to that.” Elrond throws his head back in laughter and raises his own glass.

Celebrimbor completes the toast by clinking his wine glass gently against Elrond’s and then throwing the drink back. Elrond does the same.

“Tell me Elrond.” Celebrimbor says after he has set the glass of wine back down on the table. “You would not wish for a lover for the night, yet there must be someone who has caught your eye over the past centuries?” He asks curiously.

“I….” Elrond stammers awkwardly.

“You need not tell me if that question is too personal.”

Elrond lowers his gaze to hide his blush. “Aye… you are correct.”

“But you are alone this night. Did they not return your affection?” Celebrimbor asks with a saddened look upon his face.

“Nay! That is not it… I just…..” Elrond stammers through his speech again.

“You can speak freely with me, Elrond. I am your friend. At least I hope I am.” Celebrimbor reaches over to place a hand upon Elrond’s.

“I just have not told them of my adoration.”

“Why ever not?” Celebrimbor raises an eyebrow.

“They do not hold the same affection for me, Celebrimbor. I can not tell them.”

“Have they told you this?”

“Not in as many words. But….”

“You can not know their feelings if you do not ask. Are they here tonight? You must ask them, Elrond.” The elf-lord interrupts.

“I….”

“Forgive me, my friend. I spoke of joking and making fun of the lovers and lovesick fools this eve, but I am here interrogating you instead. We may speak of other things.” Celebrimbor apologizes.

“There is nothing to forgive, Celebrimbor.” Elrond smiles kindly at the other elf. “But I would not be opposed to making fun of the others. Have you seen Meliriel trying to woo Taeron? She looks like a little lamb who just got her walking legs. I have never seen such a sorry attempt at professing love.”

Celebrimbor cackles as he observes the two elves. “And the flowers in her hand? Those are all weeds! The poor ellon beside her looks quite uncomfortable.”

“Though I think he actually likes her back, if his blush is anything to go by.”

“Oh! And look at Errien. Bold of her to kiss her husband like that in the middle of the gardens. I hope they do not undress each other right in front of us. I would not appreciate such a sight…. Oh what love does to an elf….”

Both Celebrimbor and Elrond gossip their way through basically the entire population of Eregion, and drink the wine the elf-lord brought until there was no more to be had. As Celebrimbor drains the last drop of his wine, he looks at Elrond’s empty glass as well.

“Would you like more wine, my friend? I am sure I could procure another bottle.”

Elrond, with flushed and warm cheeks, shakes his head.

“Nay, I would like to keep my wits about me. Where did you find that bottle? I have never had a drink so strong.”

“Ah, it is from Ereinion’s private stash.”

“That explains it….” Elrond mutters. The High King was known to have a love of wine, particularly the strongest.

“It seems most of the lovers are retiring. The garden is beginning to clear out.” Celebrimbor observes. The gardens were much emptier than they had been when Elrond and he first sat down. The music had gentled as well, just quiet melodies floating in from the garden.

“Aye.” Elrond agrees, taking a look around.

“Both lovers and love-sick fools, falling into bed with each other. To wake in the morning with their mates, or with regrets.”

“Hmmm.” Elrond takes the empty wine glass in hand and sighs deeply.

“But what of you, Elrond? Will you go back to your quarters?”

“Aye, I think I will stay up working on some translations. It is not yet that late. And you Celebrimbor?”

“I think I will go back to my forge. There is still work that needs to be done.”

“It is a lonely life you lead, my lord.” Elrond, full of wine and more courage says.

Celebrimbor smiles sadly at the half-elf across the table.

“Just the same as yours, my friend.”

“Perhaps….” Elrond looks down, surprised at the emotions brewing under the surface of his skin. Must be the wine. He thinks.

“But you need not be alone, Elrond.” Celebrimbor states.

“What do you mean?”

“I know I am not… perhaps the most eligible of elves here. I am old, scarred and have little to give you. But if you wished, I would make your life a little less lonely, at least for the night.”

“You what?” Elrond’s head shoots back up in shock and his eyes widen in confusion. His heart races, unsure he heard the elf-lord correctly.

“I would share this night, loving you, if you would have me. It burdens my heart to see all but you having the pleasure of love tonight.

“I do not want a lover out of pity.”Elrond scowls.

“Nay! That is not why I offer. You are sweet, kind and gentle. And truly an attractive being inside and out. You deserve to be loved. And perhaps I too do not wish to be alone either.” Celebrimbor says, eyes kind upon the half-elf. He is quick to add. “But you need not join me if you do not wish. Your night is your own. I only wish to make it more bearable for us both.”

Elrond sits there in silence for several moments, more than a little shocked. On one hand, he truly did want a lover for the long-term, not just for one night. He was sick of being tossed aside come morning because all the elves he had been with ever wanted was just someone to please their urges in the moment. But on the other hand, he was lonely. And it was Celebrimbor. His love for the elf-lord ran deep. And if this was all he was offered of the elf, then who was he to deny such an opportunity. Eventually, he nods and stands.

“I….I would like that. I would be honored.” He says with a blush.

“The honor is all mine.” Celebrimbor stands and offers Elrond his hand. “Come, young one. We can go to my chambers. Unless you would feel more comfortable in yours.”

“Yours is fine.”

The walk to Celebrimbor’s home is quiet, but not uncomfortable. Elrond, nervous and worried as he was, stays silent. But he relishes in the warmth of Celebrimbor’s hand upon his. It is dark too, the only light coming from the stars above and the lanterns placed along the paths of the city.

At long last they reach Celebrimbor’s bed chambers. Elrond stands awkwardly by the door. Celebrimbor on the other hand rushes around the room, lighting the hearth and candles to make it seem less desolate and cold. Elrond takes a look around as he does so. The room was large, but not overbearing. There were tapestries and paintings along the walls, and heirlooms and personal items scattered around the tables and cabinets. The bed itself was large, with fluffy and soft looking pillows and a thick woven quilt upon the bed. When Celebrimbor is done lighting the candles he turns to look at Elrond with a smile.

“Forgive me for the mess. It is normally not so cluttered.” He smiles.

Elrond raises an eyebrow at him. The room was spotless, but not in an empty or unfriendly way.

“It is alright.” He says amused.

Celebrimbor approaches him, stopping a few feet from the half-elf and reaching up a warm hand to rest upon his cheek. His touch was gentle, though the skin calloused and rough from the many years spent at the forge. His thumb swipes over Elrond’s sharp cheekbone and the shell of his ear. When Elrond leans into the touch he leans down to press a kiss to his forehead.

“Have you done this before?” Celebrimbor asks seriously.

“Aye, I’ve had lovers in the past. I know what to expect.”

“Alright. May I kiss you?”

“Please.”

Celebrimbor’s lips are soft and move slowly. When he takes Elrond’s lips in his, it is the smallest of touches. The elf-lord takes his time in kissing him, much to Elrond’s frustration. It is almost as if he was afraid that if he pushed to hard, he would break him. Elrond kisses back impatient for a more passionate touch. Celebrimbor pulls away with a laugh.

“As you wish, melissë.” Elrond blushes heavily at the pet name and closes his eyes when the lips return to his.

Celebrimbor certainly takes his time, kissing Elrond for many minutes. It was the sweetest and softest kiss Elrond had ever experienced. But he grew impatient, wanting more. So he wraps his arms around the taller elf’s neck and runs his tongue over Celebrimbor’s bottom lip. The elf-lord groans and opens his mouth for him without any hesitation. After that, the kiss quickly becomes more passionate. Elrond’s hands find purchase in the hairs at the nape of the other’s neck, while Celebrimbor’s hands land upon Elrond’s hips. They fight for dominance in the kiss, but it is Celebrimbor who eventually wins the battle and pulls away.

“Bed?”

Elrond nods. Celebrimbor leans down to grab ahold of the backs of Elrond’s legs and lifts him with ease until the half-elf wraps his legs around him. He walks them to the bed before depositing his lover upon the woven quilt. Elrond laughs and beckons him closer.

The adoring eyes of the half-elf, cause Celebrimbor to grin. Celebrimbor does not go to him yet though. First, he takes the hem of his own shirt in hand and teasingly pulls it up over his head. And though the sight stirs something in Elrond, his heart suddenly pulls and aches.

I should not be doing this to him. Elrond thinks. He deserves to know my feelings, even if he does not return them. I can not and will not use him like this.

“Stop!” Elrond cries out when the same hands take hold of the bottom of his own tunic.

Celebrimbor pulls away as if burned and his eyes widen in worry.

“Forgive me, Elrond! Have I hurt you in some way? Was I going to fast?” The elf-lord looks distraught with himself and sits a polite distance away.

“Nay! It is nothing you have done, Celebrimbor. You have been wonderful. But I…. You must forgive me, my lord. For I have been untruthful.”

“Untruthful? Whatever it is, it can not be so bad, melissë. What is it?”

“I… You know there is one that has caught my eye?”

“Aye?”

“I should not have agreed to this. But I was selfish….For that person that has caught my eye is you, my lord. You have held my heart, though you did not know it. Forgive me for deceiving you.” Elrond bows his head so low that it almost touches the bedcovers. The room sits in silence for several long moments, and Elrond starts to get anxious when Celebrimbor does not respond.

“I am so sorry, my lord. I hope I have not ruined your night. I will go. I should not have….” Elrond babbles as he scurries to get off of the bed.

“No!” Celebrimbor cries, catching his hand.

Elrond turns to the elf but does not look at him, fearful of what he might see there.

“Elrond, look at me.”

Elrond looks up, but where he had thought he would find disgust, there is nothing but love and kindness in the other’s eyes.

“You have my heart as well.” Celebrimbor confesses. “You have always had it.”

“You…you….?” Elrond stutters in shock.

“Aye, and forgive me for not telling you sooner.”

“You could not have known….nor I.”

Celebrimbor sits his younger lover back on the bed. “You are so sweet.” He pulls back to look Elrond in the eye before wrapping his arms around the figure and holding him tightly. He takes his chin in hand and kisses him once more. The kiss deepens quickly and Elrond’s hands find themselves sliding down Celebrimbor’s chest.

“I would still like to….make love. If you are agreeable.” Elrond states confidently.

“Aye. We may talk more in the morning. But now, you will have your pleasure.”

Celebrimbor takes the hem of his white tunic in hand again and tugs on it. Elrond lifts his arms and lets the fabric be pulled from him. The rest of the removal of their clothing is but a blur until they both stand naked before each other.

He is like the Valar. Elrond thinks when he takes in Celebrimbor’s bare form. He was tall and strong and his muscles rippled with every movement. And the cock in between his legs hung heavy and hard. The half-elf can not help himself and his hands reaches out to touch him. His finger strokes over the flushed and pink tip, causing Celebrimbor to shudder.

With a gentle hand, Celebrimbor runs his palm down his cheek in response, down his neck, and further down to his chest. His hand drifts over to his nipple, rubbing over it but not staying to Elrond’s displeasure. But when the hand strays to the other nipple, he let’s out a pleased sigh. Even still, the hand upon his body moves down once more, tickling over his navel and hips until it rests on his thigh.

“What would you like?” Celebrimbor asks huskily.

“Like?”

“Aye, how do you want me, Elrond? Do you wish to take me or to be taken?” The hand on his thigh reaches around to rest upon his bottom.

“I would like you to take me, if you could.” He blushes furiously.

“Whatever you wish for, melissë, is yours.”

Celebrimbor takes Elrond’s cock in between his fingers with his free hand and strokes, pulling on the half-elf’s length until it is hard and stands proudly between them. The sudden pleasurable movements forces the half-elf to grab hold of the other’s arms, lest his legs collapse beneath him. In retaliation for the pleasure, Elrond kisses the Celebrimbor’s neck softly, before beginning to suckle bruises into the skin.

“Valar….” Elrond swears as he thrusts into the warm hand surrounding him.

Celebrimbor stops then and pulls his hand away. Elrond whines. The elf-lord guides his lover to lie on the bed as they had been before and takes a tiny pot from his bedside table.

“Oil.” He explains.

He swiftly uncorks it and pours a generous amount onto his fingers. He drags the hand down Elrond’s chest and teases his cock for another moment before moving further down. With gentle hands he presses Elrond’s legs away from him so they are spread out on the bed.

“What a sight you make, my love.”

“What do you mean?”

“All spread out, just for me.” Celebrimbor leans down to whisper huskily into Elrond’s ear.

Elrond flushes and bucks his hips with the first touch of the finger to his entrance. But it stops there. Only gently rubbing over him.

“I am not fragile, Celebrimbor. Make me ready for you.” The half-elf growls.

Celebrimbor does not have to be told twice and presses the first finger into the warm body beneath him. Elrond moans at the feeling and squirms at the feeling. He arches up into the finger, trying to get it to go deeper. Celebrimbor obliges of course and then begins to prepare him. After the Elrond is all but shaking from the prolonged teasing, he strokes over that one spot inside him that makes him cry out.

“There, do you want more of that, sweet one?”

Elrond nods eagerly and cries out once more when his prostate is pressed again. His legs attempt to fall shut of their own accord, but Celebrimbor just pushes them back open.

After Celebrimbor finally deems him ready, he removes his fingers and slicks up his cock with more of the oil. Elrond settles himself more comfortably into the pillows, but a large hand stops him in his tracks.

“What is it?”

“I would take you with you in my lap. I wish to look upon your face. Is that alright?”

“More than.” Elrond scrambles up as Celebrimbor adjusts a pillow on the headboard.

The older elf sits back upon it and reaches out for his fair lover. With loving hands, he guides Elrond to straddle his hips. He leaves one hand on his waist and takes his cock in hand with the other.

“Ready love?”

Elrond nods eagerly and Celebrimbor slowly guides him down onto him. Both moan at the first shocks of pleasure that assault them. The younger one wraps his arms loosely around Celebrimbor’s shoulder and sighs as he bottoms out. He had forgotten what it felt like. How it felt to be so full, so filled with another. How it felt to have someone else so close.

Celebrimbor guides him at first, setting a slow and gentle pace until Elrond adjusts to the intrusion. But soon enough it is Elrond who raises his hips and lowers himself down. He sets a much harsher pace than Celebrimbor had, causing both of them to cry out at the feeling.

Celebrimbor takes his chin as he thrusts, kissing him. “You wish me to come undone so soon?”

“That is not my intention.” Elrond gasps out between the thrusts Celebrimbor had started. “But surely you can hold out for longer. You are not that old.” He teases.

The hands on his hips grip tighter. “You will regret that.” Celebrimbor laughs, before thrusting as quickly as he can up into the body. Elrond throws his head back in pleasure and shuts his eyes.

“Celebrimbor…” He whimpers.

“Aye, I know.” The thrusts gentle some but do not lose their pace.

Elrond eyes fly back open at one particularly pleasurable jab at his prostate. He holds tight to the older elf, and buries his head in his neck.

He wants me too. I am not alone. He thinks with a smile.

Elrond rolls his hips down onto Celebrimbor, trying to find even more pleasure in the act. The room is mostly quiet then, the only sounds being their quiet moans and sighs of pleasure. Though the thrusts between the two alternate between harsh and gentle, all other touches remain soft and sweet. Celebrimbor strokes Elrond’s cheeks with reverence and Elrond trails his fingers through the soft hair upon Celebrimbor’s neck.

Eventually, the younger elf tires of rising up and down upon the thick cock inside him and all but collapses on top of him. The elf-lord takes over for him, bracing his feet upon the bedding and thrusting up into him with earnest.

“My lord….” Elrond whines.

The older elf takes his lover’s cock in hand and begins to stroke.

“Celebrimbor, Elrond. Celebrimbor.” He corrects.

He strokes Elrond quickly to completion. The half-elf releases with a cry of the other’s name. The spasming of Elrond’s body around him throws Celebrimbor over the edge just as quickly. Both come down from their highs with happy laughs.

Celebrimbor lays them both down, still nestled inside his lover, and wraps Elrond up in his arms. “May I stay like this for a while?”

“Of course.” Elrond snuggles into the warm arms around him and closes his eyes.

“Celebrimbor?”

“You will not throw me away in the morning? You will have me for more than this night?” He asks hopefully.

“No, you will still be mine come tomorrow.”

#rings of power fic #elrond x celebrimbor #elrond fic #celebrimbor #elrond

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lamaisongaga · 2 years

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THE CHROMATICA BALL TOUR FASHION CREDITS

It feels like forever since she announced it, but Lady Gaga finally launched her highly anticipated “The Chromatica Ball” stadium summer world tour! The setlist was divided into five acts, opening with a trio of fan favorites.

Fashion director Nicola Formichetti made sure that fans got a visual treat, not only musically. Styling by power-duo Sandra Amador and Tom Eerebout with assistance by Hunter Clem. Hair by Frederic Aspiras and glam by Sarah Tanno-Stewart using Haus Laboratories.

Gaga opened the tour singing her biggest hits inside of a transformer meets sarcophagus creation custom designed by Gareth Pugh, who also made her grey structured sculpturesque cocoon armor with tonal "stitching", leather puff-sleeve top and belted leather paper-bag trousers, based on his Fall/Winter 2018 collection.

Underneath, she wore a custom Atsuko Kudo Joy matte silver sleeveless latex bodysuit with mock neck. You’ll see another one later in this post!

Her dancers all wear bespoke HUGO BOSS grey tailored looks.

A bunch of new names worked on the fashion of this tour. Boyd Baten’s Barcelona-based “futuristic style brand” Divamp Couture being one of them! They created these polished and embossed brutalism-inspired Monoblocks.

Mother Monster sang "Alice" while sporting this otherworldly custom Topo Studio NY Muscle Detail sequined red sheer organza and liquid silk lamé ripped and ruched trapunto gown with dramatic shoulders.

Underneath, she revealed this sickening custom Vex Clothing x Yummy Gummy Latex blood-inspired sleeveless latex mock neck bodysuit which is part of their "Vol. 22" collection.

The insane PVC pipe metal & molded leather choker is part of a custom stage look designer Assaad Awad originally created for her "Enigma" Vegas residency!

Her opera-length fingerless black leather gloves are the Fergie by Paula Rowan.

Throughout the show, Gaga danced around in these custom Haus of Gaga over-the-knee black leather combat boots.

Her red quilted puff shoulder jacket, she added during “Monster”, is from Iran-born Germany-based emerging designer AZIZ...

...which she combined with her favorite Komono x Tom Eerebout M Whiskey Coke sunglasses.

For the second segment of the show, LG explored her fetishgear side by rocking this bondage-inspired black PVC spike shoulder top with harness-style buckles, based on the Eclipse top by SINRGY! Also by them: her elbow pad and fingerless neoprene gloves with PVC panels.

The deconstructed, asymmetrical stretch jersey bodysuit and trousers, both featuring PVC panels, are fruit of a collaboration between her sister's label Topo Studio NY and longtime collaborator Muto-Little Costumes.

She crowned the look with a custom Noel Stewart black PVC biker cap – which gives me incredible "The Fame" era vibes!

Next, LG rocked a custom Alexander McQueen molten metallic gold moiré tromp l'œil double lapel cropped tailored blazer, sleeveless shirt and wide-legged trousers!

Another fan favorite look was the stunning Topo Studio NY creation she whipped out for "Free Woman" — clearly a nod to Ballroom culture (Paris is Burning, anyone?).

The extravagant coat is hand-crafted from pleated gold lamé and features avant-garde sleeves, layered pagoda shoulders and a stand-up collar.

Later, she added this bespoke Philip Treacy lobster claw-inspired golden headpiece.

For the dancers, Perry Meek created 16 gold & white looks in only 5 days while Lara Jensen made a dozen of fabulous gold headpieces in the shapes of wings, orbs and orbits.

While playing her tree piano, Gaga changed into a Atsuko Kudo Joy sleeveless black latex mock neck bodysuit.

She also brought back her custom Xtian de Medici Chromataphore helmet headpiece constructed from therman plastics, vinyl and various pigments he developed for the color. Xtian used a special high tech pigment similar to the pigment that gives butterflies their color!

For her next dates, she whipped out this purple & black latex bodysuit with high collar and jet crystal embellishments that was custom-made for her by Dead Lotus Couture.

Gaga then danced to "Stupid Love" and "Rain on Me" wearing Alexander McQueen Resort 2023 eyelet-embellished cropped leather biker jacket and crystal embroidered long laser-cut harness.

For “Hold my Hand”, she replaced the previous jacket with an archival KTZ Fall/Winter 2011 deconstructed leather biker jacket. She had the shoulder lapels of hers encrusted with jet crystals.

Lastly, she wore her Gary Fay Creations album cover-worn Tree bone-shaped claw hand, with each part of the fingers moving individually.

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