#(( Bless you for understanding the ref ))

[vividblaze]

If I get to enjoy the 4th artbook's Fuku-chan sketches, then so do you!! 🌹 (Anybody reposts these elsewhere and I will seriously send the full curse of my forsaken honmaru after you.)

[radicheart-a]

@waywardsculs replied to your post “💭 for lucifer? <3”:

lucifer: wait you had a husband before?

"No~"

[icharchivist]

I would never date belial for my own mental health but i'll read the subtitles as much as he wants.

r. read the subtitles?

IS IT BECAUSE OF THE MEME????

LMAOOO

But yeah dating Belial would be extremely taxing in every way imaginable honestly. But just looking has never hurt anyone. except for all the people he killed. But that's their problem. Skill issues.

This is so fair, good plan nonny.

[twisted-wonderland-but-gayer]

Language Barriers

Based off the idea that Yuu doesn't speak the same language or have the same culture norms in their world!! Got inspired for once

Content Info: GN!, 4.6K words-ish, Fluff/Comedy, Platonic except in Kalim's, Aztec refs in Leonas, NSFW jokes in Heartslabyul, Staff being parents, Trey bullying

Characters: Mozus Trein, Divus Crewel, Dire Crowley, Ashton Vargas, Sam, Riddle Rosehearts, Trey Clover, Cater Diamond, Ace Trappola, Deuce Spade, Grim, Leona Kingscholar, Kalim al-Asim, Jamil Viper, Vil Schoenheit

***

***

Since your arrival in Twisted Wonderland, you have begun to grasp the language and culture of this world. For the most part, at least.

You remember as clear as day when you first arrived, the pure confusion of the Headmage and those around you. Words from your lips were pure gibberish to them. They stared at you like you were an anomaly— and they were right. You are one.

‘Glitchy’ is the term they have used to describe your voice. “It is as though the sound around you warps everytime you speak.” The Headmage— Crowley— said.

The man had given you a necklace alongside an old dorm he housed you in. It was a simple looking necklace. A small mirror charm dangles in the center of it. Subtle enough to not draw attention to it.

It wasn't just a necklace however. It was a translator, a universal one.

The ‘glitches’ from your mouth had stopped and became the strange sounds the natives here spoke. Still, the necklace is just a buffer. Just because you can understand them doesn't mean you know what they're saying.

You still do not know the slang, the culture, the phrases, the grammar. Words still slipped your mind. You swear all you can hear is gibberish at times– and honestly you don’t doubt it occasionally is when students want to mess with you. You still had a lot to learn and there have been many miscommunications along the way. All part of the journey you suppose.

The staff here weren't coddling at all but they were accommodating. They made it clear that they favored no student more than the other. (At least that's what they claim.) But they also understood that holding you to the same standard would be unfair.

Mozus Trein

Professor Mozus Trein was a blessing when it came to learning about this world. His history classes made understanding this place easier. Trein would even give you extra context with his lessons to help you understand the everyday things and universal knowledge that you are unaware of.

His standards for your essays were different. He was no less strict on you but he was reasonable. He could tell that you truly understood the concept and put effort into your papers despite the language barrier and he is not going to punish you for learning.

You would get your paper back with a high grade and a page of corrections with explanations for each one. Why this comma here wrong. Why this was the wrong conjugation of that word. How this sentence could be improved.

“Excuse me, Professor?” You test the words as you speak them, accent slipping out. Trein looks to you from his desk. "Yes?”

“This word here is marked as wrong, but I remember you saying ‘I before E except after C.’” You tilt the paper to him and the older man adjusts himself on seat.

“Let me see here…” Trein paused to read the paper, expert eyes scanning for any potential mistakes. “Ah I see, that word there is an exception. ‘Sovereign’ doesn't follow that rule.” He closed his eyes as he explained and you nodded in understanding.

“I see, so I just have to memorize it. Are there any other words like that?” You didn't like how Trein seemed to frown as he thought about it. He hadn't realized how many there were. “Yes there are. A lot more than I anticipated I’m afraid,” a sigh escapes his lips and he shakes his head.

“I will not hold this against your grade since you have been improving with each assignment. Little mistakes like this will be forgiven so long as they are not repeated. Allow me to adjust your grade accordingly.”

You tilted your head as your B+ went to an A-. A small smile decorates your features. Trein nods to you and hands you your paper back. “There you are then. On to you next class.” You turn to leave but are stopped by when he speaks again.

“You should be proud of yourself, Yuu. You are the hardest working student I've have ever had the pleasure of teaching.” You perked up and your smile grew as you were onto your next class.

Divus Crewel

Professor Divus Crewel’s classes were difficult for completely different reasons. Math and numbers were the same for the most part aside from some minor symbol changes. Word problems were the bane of your existence however. Thankfully Divus can see that you understand the math. He'll often pass you or only take half a point off if you use the wrong equation or misunderstand the question and such.

He also gave you a small private lesson about alchemy as well. Teaching you the basic terms and proper protocols that most students would have learned early in their education. He'd show how to differentiate the effects an ingredient would have by the prefixes of their names or symbols on the vial.

But most importantly he would help you socially. What you should dress like for certain events. The correct way to speak so you could sound like a native. Social cues.

And he would refuse to admit it but you were his prized pup over the rest. He may or may not have slipped you a few perfumes or clothing under the guise of “Crowley not providing enough” or “Taking stress off of you to do better in class.” You knew better though.

After all, how could he play off giving a coat similar to his? It was less flashy and more suited to your tastes. It wasn't obvious to anyone else that you matched him unless they really observed. Perfect to wear in his class.

He's always looking out for you. Making sure you are safe and secure. And should you get injured from another adventure, he is there with a potion in hand.

Dire Crowley

Crowley was the one that gave you the necklace and a place to stay. Though eccentric and a bit well… lazy, you couldn’t deny that this was a good display of his generosity. Even if he does make you work for it.

Crowley was a strange one. He'd gift you some magical object one day and then forget you exist the next. He’d help you with your paperwork for accommodations and then forget to approve of them.

One time he dropped off a stack of paperwork on you to do for him but still left you a huge comprehensive guide that teaches you how to do each one. On top of that there was even a translation card meant to help you. If he put this much effort into these papers he'd be done by now. You assume he made this so he can drop more on you in the future. You swear he mentioned he's doing this to you to ‘prepare you for when you become the new headmage— er headmaster.’ Yeah right.

He'd give you dangerous tasks then become overprotective if any boy dare get too close to you. He'd help with anything but only if you stroke his ego. Yet despite it all he was still, as much as you hated to admit it, generous.

Despite everything, he has taken you in instead of abandoning you in this world. You swear sometimes he acts like a dad to you… When its convenient.

He's so annoying but you can’t find it in your heart to truly hate him. He may get you in trouble, but the moment it becomes too dangerous he steps in without hesitation to protect you and gives you a huge lecture after.

You hope you learn enough of the language to properly scold him.

Ashton Vargas

“Is this really necessary?” You ask the coach in front who re-wraps your hands tightly. “Absolutely it is!” The Coach's booming voice resonates in you as he pats you on your back rather roughly. “Give me another punch.”

You swallow and raise your hands again. You hesitate. “Come on kid you aren't gonna leave a dent in me!” You swallow and swing at his stomach. Vargas was right, he doesn't even flinch as your arm practically vibrates.

“That was a good form! I almost felt it.” A great guffaw rumbles in his chest. “Again!” Another punch, he looks down approvingly.

“Not bad, not bad at all. I sense a lot of potential in you, kid. That's enough for today.” You breathe a sigh of relief as you wipe your brow and unwrap your hands.

“Seems my training regiment is working, you're getting stronger by the day. Still— this on its own isn't enough. You need protein, kid! Lots of it. And you know what a good source of protein is?”

You stare at him for a moment. “Those uh…” the word slips your mind. “Chicken… capsules…?”

“Bingo! But they're called Eggs here Yuu.” Ashton puts a hand on his hip and makes a fist. “You should start with a dozen eggs per day and increase from there. I know that headmage can't be relied on to pay you in time, so I personally will deliver some bulking meals myself!”

“... Why are you doing this for me?” Your voice comes out a bit quiet as you speak. Ashton looks at you for a minute. “Why? Because you’re my student and I want to see you succeed. You got some serious strength hidden in you, and it would br a shame to see it wasted. Besides…”

As he speaks he starts taking down those punchy things, sandbags, you think. “The students here are quite rowdy. I want you to be able to defend yourself, especially since you don't have magic. You have to rely on brawn, Yuu! And I will be the one to awaken it.”

Vargas strikes a pose for a moment before relaxing. “Before you go I need to teach you some vocabulary.”

“Vocabulary…?”

“About your muscles of course!” The coach sat you down for a moment as he went into kinesiology. Micros and macros. Bulking. He broke it all down for you while flexing his muscles to emphasize his points.

“Now off you go Yuu, meet me here same time tomorrow, got it?”

Sam

Sam is a cool dude. You interact with him a lot. He never had an issue when you were first learning to speak. In fact he'd help you find the products you described to him. Of course he'd try and convince you to buy the more premium products but that's just business.

He'd even offer you a gig or two. His shelves don't stock themselves and his shadow friends wouldn't mind some extra help. Just know they can be a bit mischievous. While you were working you'd even get a small employee discount.

Even though your language has gotten better, there is still the occasional mix up.

“Ah, prefect! What can I do for you?” Sam queried while leaning on the counter top, delighted to see one of his favorite customers. “I am looking for… um…” You froze. What was that word again??

“The… white liquid?” You watched as Sam racked his brain for what you meant. “An invisibility potion?”

“No no! It's like… a juice?”

“Ah! I got it! Coconut milk!” The man snapped his fingers and winked. He frowned a bit when you shook your head.

“Wait here.” The shadow man watched as you ventured into the small smack aisle in front of him. Soon you took a bag of beef jerky and pointed to the small symbol on it. “What is this animal called again?”

“That's a cow.”

“Yes! I need the juice from it! The cow juice! What is its name? I forgot.” you perked up and beamed at him, hoping he understood. It all clicked for Sam, and he let out a hearty laugh at the realization.

“Do you mean milk, perchance?”

“Yes! I knew it had that sound! I need milk!” Sam chuckled again and waves his hand, sending a small shadow to retrieve some. “By the way would you be down to do some work tonight?”

“Tonight? Yeah, I can always use some extra cash.” The prefect was always so easy going. Guess they had to be in a place like this.

“Good. I'll apply your discount right now then!”

Heartslabyul

Your favorite Heartslabyul members have invited you to join them. Another Unbirthday party was to be hosted and the stars aligned today for the whole deck to help with the baking. It felt nice to be with them. They were like a family in a way, being with them felt like home. Alongside baking, there was some cooking being done too.

“Geez you really do like your eggs, huh?” Cater asked the spade who stirred his chopsticks with precision. He is determined to make the perfect tornado omelet.

“Oh you have no idea.” Ace tsked. “Whenever we go out to a restaurant it's the only thing he orders.”

“Not true!” Deuce's interjection wasn't as strong as it usually is, much to focused on his creation. “Yeah only if they dont offer any.” Ace retorts.

“Grim, it is unsanitary to touch the batter,” Riddle breaks up the impending argument to chide the direbeast ‘helping’ him stir, “Trey how many egg yolks do I add?”

“Three. You sure got it Riddle?” Riddle pouts a bit. He knows he got a shell in the batter last time but he's trying! “I'll get it right this time, you can count on it.”

“Ooh, give the egg whites to Deuce if you aren't using them!” Deuce mutters a thank you to Cater as he finishes up his omelet. “Does anyone else want one?”

No’s resound across the kitchen aside from you and Grim which makes Deuce smile. “Alright, what kind do you want Yuu? I'm still unsure on what kind you prefer.” Deuce looks a little embarrassed at not knowing despite how long you've been friends.

Before anyone could tease Deuce, Trey asks the worst question he possibly could without knowing. “Actually how do you like your eggs in the morning, Yuu? I rarely see you eat breakfast in the cafeteria.”

You pause for a moment, the pan you were greasing slipping slightly. Then you chuckled. “That's very bold of you Trey, I never expected you of all people to say that… But judging by everyone else's reaction, I assume it doesn't mean anything here?”

“Oh? Does it mean something different where you from?” Riddle asks, looking over at you. “It does actually.” Cater looks up from his phone he was reading the recipe from, noticing your amused expression. “What else could possibly it mean though?” You hold in a laugh. Perhaps this wasn't the best time to bring it up but you can't help it.

“Is that so? I sure hope I didn't say anything offensive. What does it mean?” Poor Trey; he chuckles as he decorates one of the finished cakes not knowing the storm that's brewing.

“You essentially just propositioned me in front of everyone.” The whole kitchen is silent as they stare at you. Trey looks flustered and confused out of his mind as an abundance of frosting squirts out of the bag. “I… pardon?”

Ace speaks first “Huh?! How does that make sense?”

“Proposition? What does that mean?”

“Don't worry about it Grim.” says the diamond. “Still that seems far fetched, it's rude of you to mess with Trey like that you know!”

“I'm not lying! It's actually what it means!” Trey is adjusting his glasses now, embarrassment growing. Riddle looks horrified, trying to find his words. He's trying to rack his brain for a response before deciding to ask about it. His voice comes out a little hesitant and unsure. “Are eggs part of some sort of courtship in your world…?”

“Um… sort of..?” At your words Deuce pales. Ace takes this opportunity to be a little shit per usual. “Wow! Seems like you have a chance then, Deucy!”

“Oh shut it Ace! Wait, have I been propositioning you this whole time?!” His face is red and he's hiding in his hands. He has offered so many egg dishes over the years. Oh God he must have made you so uncomfortable— this isn't what an honor student would do!

“I still don't know what that means…” Grim grumbles.

“No no! Offering eggs is fine, it's just that particular phrase has very different connotations in my world.”

Ace is snickering at the whole situation, but especially at Deuce’s panic. He's also just as confused, however. Trey finally has the courage to speak. “Um, how exactly does that mean…” He trails off, defeated. “I'm sorry Yuu, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable…”

“You didn't. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to tease you too much…”

“Okay, but how exactly does that mean that?”

“Yeah I'm with Cater on this one…” Ace adds.

“Enlighten me.” Riddle puts his hands on his hips, morbid curiosity getting the better of him.

“So… When someone asks that they essentially mean to say they're gonna invite you to spend the night with them and cook you breakfast in the morning.” Trey looks even more embarrassed but so does Riddle.

“So it's a sleepover? That's it?” Grim asks just to be waived off by Cater again who vibrating with laughter.

“That's a pretty convoluted way of asking…” Deuce looks to the side, also a little flustered. “Yeah it makes no sense for me either, and I'm from that world, but that is what it means…”

“Wow so Trey really is bold!” Cater snickers as Ace joins in with a “I never knew you had it in you.”

“Enough with this vulgar talk!” Riddle commands, clearly demanding the conversation to be over.

“I am never gonna live this down aren't I?”

Leona Kingscholar

I am gonna nerd a lil abt aztec mythology rn and I'm not apologizing

Herbivore is what he called you. It was meant to be an insult but you never took offense. There is no other creature that fights harder than prey that is fighting for their life or backed into a corner. If anything it was a compliment. You've seen how hard they can fight.

Yet today Leona took the title further. “You are honestly like a little rabbit. All this confidence and attitude, yet harmless.” You raised a brow at him. “Thank you.”

Leona's eyes shift ever so slightly. “You're taking it as a compliment?” You tilt your head. “I assume rabbit in this world is synonymous with fragility here…? Odd. They're a symbol of warriors back in my world.”

“Is that so?” Leona speaks boredly, but he doesn't excuse himself or tell you to shut up. “Yeah, rabbits are these mighty warriors that are completely invincible. Children of one of the 5 sin gods too. Nothing can kill them. Centzon Tōtōchtin are no joke. Odd how they're considered weak here.”

You think for a moment. “But they are known to be constantly drunk all the time and play around, so I guess that could be an insult…” Leona just rubs his head. “Take it however you want…”

Kalim al-Asim

“Look at all the stars!” Kalim exclaims, pointing up at the sky. He lands his carpet along the sand dunes, eyes full of wonder. He then looks to you with bated breath, waiting for your reaction.

“It's beautiful…” You whisper, overlooking the patterns of stars decorating the night sky. It was straight out of a painting, vast and whimsical. Kalim was glowing at your happiness. “Aaah, I'm glad you like it! I was hoping you would!”

You lean back against the ground. Shooting stars dart across the sky along the twinkling lights in a beautiful display. Your eyes land on the moon, admiring how different it was from your own.

“The moon looks beautiful tonight, doesn't it?” You freeze for a moment. “Haha, careful saying that to people from my world Kalim, not that you'll be running into anyone else from there anytime soon…”

Kalim looks over to you, brows slightly furrowed. “Eh? What do you mean?” You look back up the moon again. “Saying ‘the moon looks beautiful tonight’ where I’m from means I love you.” There's a moment of silence as Kalim ponders.

“Well then the moon looks beautiful tonight! I love all of my friends!” Kalim grins at you, fist pumped to his chest.

“It's not like that, Kalim. It's for romantic feelings. Funny, since coming here I've had a lot of experiences that would be considered flirtatious in my word…” You laugh a bit before a small frown appears on your features but Kalim snaps you out if it.

“So what you're saying is… it's a love confession?” His eyes are glimmering, the moon reflecting on them beautifully.

“You got it.”

“Then the moon looks beautiful tonight.”

Jamil Viper

So in TWST the languages aren't called the same thing in our world but I couldn't figure out the language of the Scalding Sands so I made one up. Can be a psuedo-prequel to my other fic Missing Yuu. It can be read here!

“Your Arabic is so similar yet so different than my world's version” Jamil pauses his mumbling and hums in question. “Arabic?”

“It's a language where I'm from. It sounds very similar to yours. Like I swear it could be some sort of dialect of it.”

“Scaldic, you mean?” You nod looking over at him from where you lay in his bed. “Is that what it's called? It's a pretty language.” Jamil messes with the stereo in his room, taking out an old CD and browsing for another he wanted to show you. “Maybe once you get more comfortable in this language, I can teach you a bit.”

“That would be lovely, thanks Jamil” As the sounds of shuffling continue from his search and you absentmindedly mess with your necklace before sitting up. “Wait! I know!”

Jamil perks and turns to you, watching as you start to take off your necklace. “Here put this on, you've shown me so much music from your world, let me show you some from mine!”

You offer the necklace over, shaking it a little for encouragement. Jamil takes it gently and examines the necklace. He lifts up his hair and slips it on, feeling a warmth on his chest from where the mirror lay.

You speak, and Jamil braces against the weird feeling of the necklace warping your glitched gibberish from your throat into his native language. “Can you hear me?” The words echoed in his head a bit. He took a moment to fully process them as they reverberated in his head.

He almost replies in his native tongue, but the amulet compels him to speak another language. Your language.“Yes, I can.” He replies, slurring a bit as he feels his words echo and warp. Strange… he knows what he's saying but he can't understand it.

“You have an accent, well that makes sense…” You chuckle a bit as he sits beside you, taking a moment to adjust to the sensation. “I never thought about how the enchantments on these worked. I assumed that it would be instant. Is this what it's like for you?”

“Crowley said it would probably be different for me cause I'm not from this world. See why I ask you to repeat things all the time? … thanks for not getting too annoyed with that by the way.”

You tap away on your phone for a moment. “Here we go, I got some songs in Arabic for you, look.” Jamil watches you press play and takes in the music. It was ethereal, so different yet so similar to his worlds. Uncanny yet compelling. Then the lyrics start and he furrows his brows.

“It really is like Scaldic.” he replies, closing his eyes. “Its like if I focus hard enough I can hear it in my own language, but I cant.”

“See what I mean?” Jamil nods. “I think I'm picking up some words though, but there's no guarantee the meaning is the same.”

“Yeah it's how I feel all the time here… its frustrating at times. Oddly enough there are some words that stay the same, mostly food for example. Like mahalabia or horchata for example.”

“Huh, odd how that works…” the music coursing through his body invigorates him. He can imagine all the potential ways to move to this.

“Yeah. And it's the same dish too— well sort of. It tastes so similar yet so different. I miss my world's food, but I'm slowly forgetting the taste of it. Its just vauge memory.” Jamil peers over to the saddened expression on your face. He never even considered that part of being from another world.

“... How about we listen to your music while cooking, then? I'm sure we can make something that tastes like home.” Your face brightens. “That sounds nice.”

Vil Schoenheit

“Thank you for putting up with my accent, it must be annoying to deal with.” You sip on the tea he offered you, trying your best to abide by the manners in this world. Vil merely looked at you.

“It's not annoying at all. Your accent is fine just the way it is.” He almost seemed disappointed by the insinuation.

“Ah… Sorry I just saw that Epel’s usually not allowed to use his accent around you, so I assumed I shouldn't either.” Vil sighs.

“That's different. You have already proven yourself strong and beautiful enough to be who you are. Epel on the other hand needs to learn to accept himself for who he is first before he can truly be the person he wants to be. He must prove to me he can love himself as he is. If I hated accents, I wouldn't have let Rook speak in his."

“Ah I see… Thank you.” It wasn't everyday that you get praise from the Vil Schoenheit. “Your speech has improved, though I may point out there are some words you may need to work on. Your accent may make it sound like you are talking about something else entirely. Hmm…”

You hold your breath as he thinks. “I want you to grow into the best spudling you can be, so how about you take voice lessons from me?” Vil seems to smirk at your surprised expression. “From you..?”

Vil nods. “Yes. This way you can grow more confident in your speech and vocabulary. That voice of yours is beautiful, it just needs to be tuned.” You look at your tea then to him. “I accept.”

[triannel]

I just could not let the day pass by without writing something about this triangle guy. Please, do send more requests, I will greatly appreciate it.

Bill Cipher with Feelings

-Establishing a relationship with him will truly be a very difficult challenge, but once you do, he'd become quite a tsundere towards you. Just in his likeness, he will be obnoxious whenever he would feel the butterflies flying about inside of him. How dare you make him feel this way...

-He would rarely give you gifts though, but do not expect him to admit that it is one when he gives you something. There will always be a justification as to why he gives you such things, so much so that it sometimes feel like all he's fooling, is just himself.

-Although that is the case sometimes, other times he would drop off very arbitrary and strange gifts to you...in the dreamscape, be it a very disturbing painting, a necklace stringed eye, a song or even very rarely, a favor.

-Of course he is still a toxic character though, so you must have enough patience and kindness but also bravery and determination to be with this maniacal triangle. He'll test your patience, ruin your sleep schedule, make you distraught, make mistakes, make you upset, and perhaps even make you want to run away or try to manipulate you to stay.

-His emotions can go from 0 to 100, he just can't decide what to do with you. On the first hand he could have you as a true companion, a lover, a comforter, a puppet, ...perhaps even a toy... But on the other hand, you could just trick him, be the reason for his downfall, be his weakness and make him actually change.

-He is constantly going to a yo-yo state of mind at times, one time he'd become manipulative, then he'd threaten to kill you, but then he'd just act like nothing ever happened the next meeting. His indiciciveness will become one of the bundle of problems you'd need to deal with when you're trying to build a good connection with him.

-So good luck and bless your soul if you do stay....perhaps talking with a certain amphibian might help.

-But through it all, after the fight, the sadness, the arguments, the disagreements, if you do still find yourself coming back to him despite it all, to go to him not because he manipulated you to do so, but because you truly do love him enough to go through such trivial and difficult hardships, then he'll end up breaking right in front of you.

-He doesn't understand. He can't understand. Why are you being so kind to him? He just can't understand. (Flowey ref?)

-Why are you still here? Can't you see he's the worst person you'll ever be with? He's the worst person you'll ever be friends with.

-But Bill would still be in absolute ecstacy to know that you'll choose him no matter what. It feeds his ego. It makes him feel superior, and more possessive though.

-But still, deep inside he just doesn't feel worthy. Why, why would you choose him? It would rattle his brain to no end. For an all knowing being he just can't get his mind wrapped around it to be honest. Your kindness and all for what?

"Do you really expect me to change?" Bill spoke to a picture of you.

"HAHA FAT CHANCE!"

"I'LL NEVER CHANGE. DO YOU THINK I CAN'T SEE THROUGH YOU?" he spoke, shaking the picture.

"WHAT..?" Bill started to speak in a sarcastic manner. "WILL THE...POWER OF 'FRIENDSHIP' HELP YOU, YOU REALLY THINK YOUR STUPID DETERMINATION FILLED HEART CAN CHANGE ME?" Shaking, he gripped the picture of you.

"YOU...you idiot." Floating lower to the ground, he loosens his grip on the picture.

-Perhaps though, he'd change, very slowly but surely, you'll help him without noticing. With your kind gestures and bottomless love for him, he'll eventually come around.

-Through the trials and tribulations, he'll slowly learn to like you, to grow fond of you, to finally love you. His ego will be hard to battle but it will be worth it in the end.

-Perhaps...one day, on a nice dreamy day, you'll find yourself holding his hand. Your fingers intertwined with each others as the sun shades the scene with a beautiful cozy colour of orange.

Please, if you'd like to read more, then send an ask/request. I would honestly be very grateful if you do so.

Next

[amimuu]

The Lamb’s disciples…(ref sheets!!)

So as promised like—a month-ish ago, here is it :>! The refs for the Lamb’s disciples plus some some fun info abt them :DD!

Below the cutttt!!!!

Dipal

Lamb’s second first disciple, whom was raised in (almost) his entirety by them ever since they found and rescued him as a baby :] he’s very close to the Lamb and very faithful. Developed a very fun system for managing cult stuff that’s so awfully complicated only he understands. The Lamb lets him be cuz he really does get things running smoothly. Can feel lonely at times. But sure that’s not important

Sylvie

The Lamb’s second disciple! One of the few kids to be born amongst the cult and the only disciple who actually wears vibrant clothes. Their parents died from sickness when she was a teen so she was taken under the Lamb’s wing since he and Dipal were already close from childhood. Always the first one cultists come to when they need an ailment of any sorts. Their tail is very strong :]

Pamneur

The Lamb’s third disciple! She was the child to a couple of heretics that was taken in by the Lamb after they were struck down. She had a hard time adjusting at first but was quickly swept up by Dipal and Sylvie whom she later became close friends with. She has a strong sense of justice and is likely to deal with heretics by giving them passionate speeches on why they shouldn’t give up on faith.

-

These three are extremely close with each other and if you mess with one of them you mess with all. They don’t require golden skull necklaces cuz in my Au’s lore the status of discipleship (gaining a halo) grants immortality as long as the one blessed with it doesn’t lose faith in the god that bestowed it upon them.

So yeah :3 I hope you love em as much as I do cuz they will end up being pretty relevant to the lore. As always, my inbox is always open for further doubts or questions about these sillies. I’d love to hear your thoughts :D!! Until next time :3

[her-satanic-wiles]

Masterlist ⛧ Lost in Translation Masterlist ⛧ Ao3

Words: 10.8k

Reading Time: 43 min

Warnings: angry sex, begging, biting, corruption kink, creampie, cum eating, cunnilingus, dry humping, fear kink?, groping, feelings of claustrophobia, hair pulling, low self-esteem, mentions of grooming (non-sexual), multiple orgasms, nipple play, pain kink, penetrative sex, PIV sex, possessive Copia, primal kink?, praise kink, pussy slapping, rough sex, semi-public sex, this is objectively filthy, unprotected sex (sash the dick to smash the slick, lads), vaginal sex

Taglist: @zombiesnips-blog @da-rulah @teenage-birt-dag @ellenokumura @thew0man @sodoswitchimage @the-real-eggplany @deathmimedream @love-is-all-you-need-13 @kadedoesthings @rosyerato @xshadyladyx @popiaswife @perpetratorwithaquill @punkiy50 @onlyhereforghost @kaijukimchi @copiaspet622 @jaymechaos @akayuki56

As the newly appointed Cardinal Copia struggles with the weight of a looming prophecy, a resilient scholar challenges the narrative, uncovering a conspiracy that reaches beyond the walls of the Ministry. The emergence of a forbidden love ignites a rebellion against a power-hungry Sister, whose thirst for control threatens to reshape the very foundations of the Church. Will the revelation of those schemes lead to liberation or plunge the Ministry into chaos?

Previous Part ⛧ Next Part

🔞 MDNI 🔞

Your conversation with Copia left you feeling perturbed at best. Something didn’t sit right with you. As the Ministry’s librarian and main archivist, you knew most of the prophecies that circled the Church - none of them mentioned the antichrist’s Prime Mover, not that you could remember, anyway. That prophecy ate away at you, gnawing its way into your brain like a worm fig fly burrowing into an unripe fig.

Arriving back at the library, you were bombarded by Aisha and Riley, both of whom had seen Copia talking to you when he should have blessed you. Both had their concerns, of course, worried that you’d fall back into some kind of relationship with him and wind up with your heart broken again, but when they heard what you’d learned, they were just as stumped as you.

“It’s entirely possible that you’re wrong about this, ___.” Aisha said, her tone hesitant but still as honest as usual. “I don’t understand why someone would base their whole lives around a prophecy that wasn’t accurate… or real.”

“That’s what I’m saying,” you replied, animated in your actions, “no one in their right mind would. I feel like I need to put on a tin-foil hat right now and go to my cork board, but I have read damn near every inch of this library. I’ve digested almost every single Satanic, religious text I can get my hands on. I’ve read all the prophecies we know of thus far - I just don’t remember this one specific one.”

“But,” Riley interjected, their tone just as measured as Aisha’s, “there are thousands of prophecies after all. You can’t expect to remember each one.”

“No, but I do expect to be reminded of them as I hear them. Of course, I couldn’t remember every single one in great detail, but I’d remember the gist at the very least.”

Aisha, “Well, there’s only one way to find out, I guess.”

Riley, “What can we do?”

“We? Bitch, I know you’re not dragging me into this stupid charade.”

“Look at it this way, the faster she figures out what the prophecy is, the faster she can move on and we can all forget this debacle.”

Aisha looked at you and clapped her hands. “Where do we begin?”

Well, that was the question. In a library filled with thousand-year-old texts, each with its own historical relevance and prophecies given by each author who just wanted attention or fame, where would one begin? When every book in that room carried mystical contents, it was like trying to find a needle in a haystack. So, you all chose a large, mahogany table and set that up as your base, comandeering each seat and preventing anyone else from using it or interrupting you. Then, you all searched for and grabbed any historical text in reference to prophesies or the antichrist and dumped them all on the table. How many books were there in the end? How many stacks had piled up so high that you’d created yourselves a small prison? 300. 300 ancient, scholarly texts that had mention to the antichrist and relevant prophecies.

Aisha and Riley took it in turns to manage front desk for you, but both of them took a stack of books and a notepad with them so that they could continue the research in their down time. You, on the other hand, remained at the desk, allowing your other work to fall behind so you could figure this out. It was like your brain could only focus on one important task at a time, and when you discovered that this was important, it ended up taking top priority.

Daytime became nighttime, and nighttime became hazy cycles of reading relics and skimming over pages full of prophecies that blended into one another like a jumble of misplaced words. As the light from the lamp flickered across the tattered covers of the volumes, the library filled with the smell of old paper.

There were open books all around you, their yellowed pages teeming with historical descriptions of apocalyptic visions, and mysterious symbols. The prophecy’s complex language mingled with the deep religious debate, creating a maze of material that seemed designed to confuse rather than educate.

You carefully noted every detail that even slightly referred to the prophecy in question, cross-referenced sections, and compared the subtle differences between translations. Notes strewn all over the pages, a disorganised collage of your efforts to put the jigsaw together.

You kept getting the feeling that you were chasing shadows as you dug deeper into the texts, reaching for something that was evasive and eluded you every time you believed you had a lead. There were creases on your cheeks from exhaustion and the weight of the old books pressing down on your shoulders.

You worked side by side with Aisha and Riley, who translated texts, brought you food, and consoled you when you felt that you could no longer take the frustration any longer. The three of you formed an unofficial partnership to take on the mystery surrounding the prophecy.

Nights became days, and you couldn’t tell which day it was. Every page you turned echoed the murmur of countless seekers who had gone before you, the moments merging into an invisible blur.

And then, in the midst of the seemingly endless search, a faint glimmer of recognition sparked in your mind. A passage, hidden within the dense verses, bore a semblance to the prophecy in question. The revelation struck like lightning, awakening a surge of determination within you.

“No!” You said, much louder than you’d anticipated.

Riley and Aisha snapped their heads to your direction (as did the rest of the library goers who were startled by your outburst.) “What?” Riley asked, standing from their seat and leaning over the desk at you.

“The prophecy Copia and Sister Imperator believes just doesn’t exist. It’s like it’s been conflated from an old antichrist theory from centuries ago. Listen to this, “‘the antichrist will be born on the sixth day of the sixth month of the sixth year. Only then can he come forth and do Satan’s bidding, bring about the end times and raze a new Hell upon this Earth.’ This prophecy was taken from an old Catholic text and whoever deciphered it left footnotes and opinions.

“The translator doesn’t believe that the antichrist would bring about the end times, not in the way Catholics believe. Armageddon won’t pass as a rain of fire from the sky and the destruction of the planet, but more like a sociological shift that will destroy the Catholic church and bring education to those indoctrinated by Yhwh’s Bible.

“What I’m getting at is that there’s no mention at all of a wife for the antichrist, or if the antichrist will even produce an offspring at all. In fact, the author seems to believe that this sociological shift will become the antichrist’s final act - ‘the antichrist will die at the hands of the non-believers, messiah’d in the same way as their saviour, for only death can bring the motivation of the masses to call for a change of the system’.”

“So why does Sister Imperator place so much emphasis on the ‘wife-with-three-sixes-in-their-birth-date’ theory?” Aisha asked, putting her book down and looking at you.

You shrugged. “Maybe she’s mistaken?”

Riley shook their head. “No. Sister Imperator doesn’t make mistakes - she bends the Ministry to her will to benefit her. She’s far too smart to make mistakes as big as this.”

“You think this is more sinister?”

Riley nodded. “Surely she must have said something to you the last time you saw her?”

You began to shake your head, eyebrows furrowing at how hard you were thinking back to your conversation with her. “She told me to never let them see what they’ve done to me.”

“That was after you saw Copia fucking another person. I’m talking about before, when you felt like you had to go see him in the first place.”

You tried to remember everything that happened during that conversation, but it had become so long ago that the details had become a little fuzzy. “She did say something a bit strange now that I’m thinking about it. She said something like, ‘we didn’t work this hard for the Cardinal’s career for it to fail’ but the ‘we’ was an ‘I’ until she corrected herself.”

“See?”

Aisha, “So you think that Sister Imperator has organised this whole thing? Nah, I’m not buying it. If she organised this then why didn’t she make herself Mama and be done with it?”

“Because,” Riley rummaged through one of their piles of books and flicked to a page, “according to the Emeritus lore… mythology… whatever… the Satanic Church runs as a democratic type of monarchy - we can have a say on who we want to run the Church, but they have to come from the Emeritus bloodline given that they are, supposedly, direct descendants of Lord Lucifer Himself.

“Now, up until he became head of the Church, no one knew for sure who Cardinal Copia’s parents were. The amount of interest Sister Imperator showed on the kid made everyone believe Imperator was his mum, but no one could be certain if Papa Nihil was the Cardinal’s father. Just because the Cardinal has the typical Heterochromia doesn’t mean it’s real. Remember how people whispered about the idea that Imperator made the Cardinal wear contacts every day? It wasn’t until he became Head of the Church that people started accepting the Cardinal’s lineage, because only an Emeritus can lead the Church. Sister Imperator is not an Emeritus. She can’t directly lead the congregation. But her son can.”

“This sounds unbelievable.” Aisha claimed. “If the Cardinal was an Emeritus, then why is he still Cardinal? Why isn’t he Papa?”

Riley thought for a minute. “Maybe because Papa Nihil is still alive.”

“Then surely Papa Nihil would be Head of the Church right now, since Papa Terzo passed?”

“After last time?” You asked. “Nah, he wouldn’t take up that position again. Why do you think Papa Primo took over while Papa Nihil was still alive? Even if Papa Nihil wants to be the Head again, I don’t think the Clergy would let him.”

“Maybe that’s why the Cardinal is still Cardinal,” Riley added, “the Clergy won’t let another son ascend to Papalcy as long as a Papa is alive.”

“Which is why Papas Primo, Secondo and Terzo died.” You said quietly. “She said, ‘we didn’t work this hard for the Cardinal’s career for it to fail’, and we know the previous Papas didn’t die of natural causes…”

“They had to die because they would have fought back against Sister Imperator and her wishes!” Riley exclaimed closing their book and dropping it to the table. “My head is spinning.”

“But she said ‘we’,” Aisha thought aloud, “who’s ‘we’? She couldn’t have done all of this alone.”

“Aisha’s right,” you said, “this had to have been a group coup, there’s no way one woman could pull off three murders and an ascension all by herself.”

Aisha, “Well, Papa Nihil is still alive, so we know he must have been involved somehow.”

Riley, “Who stood to gain from the Cardinal’s ascension? Who did gain from the ascension? Who’s new to the Upper Clergy?”

You, “Cardinal García’s new, he wasn’t around before Papa Terzo.”

“Cardinal Dubois and Cardinal Li.”

“Archbishop Müller was bragging about his payrise in the bar not three weeks after Papa Terzo’s removal back in Sweden.”

“Now Cardinal Al-Farsi was removed from his position in the Upper Clergy, and we know it was because he was actively against the removal of Papa Terzo.” Riley looked at Aisha, now standing wide eyed and frozen in her spot. “Aisha?”

“Sister Evelyn Chandler.”

“Who?” You asked.

“She’s due to be the Cardinal’s Prime Mover in all of this, apparently she has three sixes in her birth date as well. No one benefits as much as she does.”

Your world came crashing down around you once again, your brain ticking into overdrive as you remembered catching Copia rocking against the other woman in his office months ago. During the first and only Mass you’d attended since then, you remembered seeing her wandering into the Basilica behind Papa Nihil and Sister Imperator as a third, important member of the family, but your mind was hyper-focussed on seeing Copia for the first time in so long, you almost didn’t register her. Almost.

In all the time since you caught them together, your mind had been all over the place. If the whole Ministry was talking about Sister Evelyn and the Cardinal, then how could you have missed it? The short answer was that you just weren’t listening. As a way to distract yourself from what had happened between you and Copia, once you’d left your home and re-entered society, you had holed yourself away in your office to work on the translations. Seeing her for the first time (truly seeing her, not just as a lump on Copia’s lap) during Mass, it didn’t register that she was the person grinding into Copia’s crotch, and that she had become important enough to be paraded to the entire congregation.

She never interacted with you, never acknowledged your presence, never looked at you, not that you’d noticed anyway. It was so easy to just not see her. But now it was all flooding into your brain, the idea that she and Sister Imperator could have orchestrated this whole thing behind Copia’s back.

Was Copia in on this?

No, he couldn’t possibly be. He seemed genuinely angry at the “prophecy” and how he’d have no part in it if he was given the option. Besides, no one advocated for Papa Terzo harder than Copia. Copia publicly looked up to Papa Terzo, worshipped him almost similarly to his worship of Satan. He wouldn’t be happy with the death of his half brother, not when he idolised him so much. Watching him from afar for as long as you did, meant you were able to see him in multiple different moods, and he mourned Papa Terzo. He mourned his half-brother for months, almost the whole year he’d been Head of the Church and leader of the Ghost Project. He definitely wouldn’t have gone through with it… right?

“So where do we go from here?” Aisha asked both you and Riley, pulling you out of your miniature crisis.

“Well,” Riley began, “I’m not entirely sure. We have all this circumstantial evidence, but there’s no proof of anything. Like I said, Sister Imperator’s smart, she’d hardly leave any physical proof of her crimes.”

Aisha turned to look at you. “You said you wanted to figure this out and now you have. All you have to do is present all of,” she gestured vaguely to the table, ��this to the Cardinal and then you can move on.”

“What if he’s in on it?” You queried, your voice quiet and scared.

Riley shook their head. “Nah. The Cardinal’s a lot of things - ‘dumbass’ would be a word I’d use for him - but he’s not the kind of person to usurp the Satanic throne for his own personal or political gain. I mean, look at the man; he spent all his fifty years trying to be invisible. If it makes you feel any better, I think he’s a naïve and gullible idiot who’s so desperate for his mother’s love and approval, he’d do anything to appease her. You said yourself he doesn’t believe he’s the antichrist, right?”

“Right.”

“Well then, there you go. There’s your answer. He thinks he’s in this position because it’s the right and prophesied thing to do. Not because he’s a puppet in his mother’s games.”

Aisha’s tone was lighthearted. “Honestly, fair play to her. A bad bitch who knows what she wants. I admire that.” Both you and Riley looked at her with a mixture of disappointment and disbelief. “What?” She stood from her seat. “I support women’s rights and women’s wrongs.” She turned to walk away and raised her fist in the air. “Go live your best life, Queen!”

Riley sighed. “I hate her sometimes.”

“Mmm,” you agreed. “You gonna help me put these back?”

Riley sucked in air through their teeth and began to back away from the desk. “You know, I would, but Sister Kowalski said she needed help finding books about rituals and, you know, can’t let Sister Kowalski down.” They gestured to the table. “But you got this, right?”

You shot a middle finger at them.

“Atta girl!”

Setting the books back was a lonely task thanks to Riley’s disappearance and Aisha ‘working at the front desk so she can’t leave’. But it gave you chance to think about the situation at hand.

There was a crushing feeling of helplessness that descended over you as you carefully returned those old books to their shelves. With every book you placed back, the magnitude of the problem became more apparent and the weight of the knowledge you acquired felt like a burden. You felt exposed and helpless when you realised you were trapped in a web of deception and surrounded by people who had ulterior motives. The Ghouls and Sisters around you went about their business, oblivious to the storm building within you. You were more aware of your inner struggle in the library’s profound silence.

The sensation that you were just a pawn in a much bigger game lingered as you pushed a hefty volume back into its proper position. Your sanity was being tormented by doubts regarding Copia’s role, Sister Imperator’s actual motivations, and the possibility of Upper Clergy influence. Your impression of being trapped was echoed by the library’s walls, which seemed to be closing in on you.

Copia’s POV

With every passing hour, Copia was more and more convinced that he’d never see or hear from you again - at least in the way that he wanted to. He paced the floor of his office when he was alone inside of it, mind raging at the prospect of living his life without you. He was so convinced that you were running from him - and who could blame you? He felt like a sham, a joker with the hat of a Cardinal and all the responsibility of a Papa. Out of all of it, all the attention and the duties, he only wanted you. And he was tormenting himself as punishment for doing stupid things that could lose you in the end.

A knock on the door interrupted Copia’s thoughts as he paced his office, gripped by the agony of possible loss. Startled, he turned to face the entryway, a glimmer of anticipation replacing the dread etched on his features. “Come in,” he called out, his voice a mix of apprehension and hope.

The door creaked open, and a Sibling stepped into the room. Copia thought he recognised this person, but being the head of the Church and living in the Ministry alongside thousands of other clergy members, everyone’s face was familiar to him. “Good afternoon, Your Dark Eminence,” they greeted cautiously, closing the door behind them. “Mind if I have a word?”

Copia, his expression a blend of curiosity and anxiety, gestured for Riley to proceed. “Of course, Sibling… uh…”

“Sibling Riley Martinez, Your Dark Eminence. I work with Sister ___ in the library.”

At the mention of your name, Copia’s stomach flipped. He was excited to know that you’d sent one of your friends to talk to him, but nervous at that exact fact. What did you not want to say? Or rather, why didn’t you want to convey your message yourself? Why did you send your friend as he would a Ghoul? “Ah, yes. Sibling Martinez, what brings you here? Is everything okay?”

“Well, Your Dark Eminence, no. May I?” Sibling Martinez gestured to the sofa in front of Copia’s desk. Copia nodded, and invited Sibling Martinez to sit.

They cleared their throat and began to tell Copia exactly what they and their friends had discovered. Copia listened carefully as Sibling Martinez revealed the information, each word hitting the weak spot in his heart like a hammer. The information weighed heavily on him, and a hint of resentment started to peek through the gaps in his calm demeanour. Fury couldn’t even begin to cover how Copia felt. His wrath simmered beneath the surface as the truth came to light. His hands balled into fists as he tried to control the flood of feelings that were about to explode; not that Sibling Martinez would know, from the outside Copia looked calm and collected, as if he was just listening to any old story. But on the inside, he was seething…

Sibling Martinez continued to share the discoveries, detailing the inconsistencies in the supposed prophecy and connecting the dots to Sister Imperator’s potential involvement in a larger, more sinister plan. Copia’s jaw tightened, his frustration morphing into a potent mixture of anger and betrayal. “So, she’s been playing me all along,” he muttered, more to himself than to Sibling Martinez. The realisation was a bitter pill to swallow, and the taste of deceit lingered in his mouth.

“Sister ___ also suspects that Sister Evelyn Chandler is a key player in all of this. The three sixes in her birth date, the sudden rise in her status—”

The anger within Copia surged to the forefront. He slammed his hand against the desk, the impact resonating through the room. “Maledizione!” he exclaimed, his frustration breaking through. “I trusted them. I trusted Sister Imperator. And I thought Evelyn was just a pawn, but they’ve been orchestrating this entire thing.”

Sibling Martinez nodded, acknowledging the weight of the revelation. “It seems that way, Your Dark Eminence. Sister ___ would have wanted you to know. She’s trying to make sense of it all, just like you are. She doesn’t know what to do about any of this, though.”

Copia paced the room, the fire of betrayal burning within him. “And you? What do you think of all this?” he asked, his gaze piercing into Sibling Martinez’s eyes.

Sibling Martinez hesitated for a moment before responding, “It’s a lot to take in, Your Dark Eminence. But if there’s a plot against you, we want to help expose it.”

Copia continued to pace the room, his mind brimming and full with fresh rage. The cogs in his brain were ticking over and over. Something about Sister Evelyn’s involvement didn’t quite add up, though. If the plot was based around a flimsy, untrue prophecy, then Sister Evelyn would know that it wasn’t real - yet, she, like Copia, was fully immersed in the whole farce. But what was the answer.

He stopped pacing and turned back to his guest. “Who did you say benefited from my ascension?” Sibling Martinez listed the known members of the Clergy and Copia clicked his fingers together. “You’re missing one. I’ve just discovered Sister Chandler’s involvement.”

“Your Dark Eminence?”

“Of course she benefits - of course she does. She becomes Prime Mover. But, she was unaware of this whole plot, I’m convinced.”

“So how is she involved?”

“It’s not her. It’s her father - Saltarian.”

“Cardinal Saltarian? I don’t know him, I’m sorry.”

Copia shook his head. “Not Cardinal, just Mr. He has no title. Mr. Saltarian has been in my life for almost thirty years at this point, a very good friend of my mother’s. There’s not much that he doesn’t know, to be truthful. He’s a spy to everyone - not a man to be trusted. He may not be a member of the Church per se, but I doubt my brother’s deaths didn’t line his back pockets in some capacity. Not to mention his daughter becoming my Prime Mover. That would give him a power that he wouldn’t have as a mere Cardinal.”

“So what are we going to do about this, Your Dark Eminence?”

Copia stopped and thought for a moment, weighing all of his options. “You do nothing.” Sibling Martinez went to protest but Copia continued. “For now at least. I appreciate you coming to me with this information, Sibling. And please thank Sister ___ for starting this whole investigation. After everything I’ve done to her, I don’t deserve it.”

“Well, she doesn’t want you suffering. What will you do?”

“I’m not sure.”

The truth was, Copia was sure, he just didn’t want word getting back to you. Not yet anyway. The way Copia was feeling, he was more than ready to burst into Sister Imperator’s office and confront her about all of this. It wasn’t until Sibling Martinez had left that Copia was able to straighten himself up and storm to his scheming mother’s office, and unfortunately for her, she was there.

He didn’t knock - he didn’t see the need. He was too angry for pleasantries and kindnesses. Sister Imperator didn’t have a guest, so he could get right to the point without disturbing another person. “Ah, Cardinal.” She said, an amiable smile on her face. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Three sixes in her birth date, hm, Sister? That’s why Sister Evelyn is to be my Prime Mover?” Copia’s attitude was foul, completely out of character for him.

“So the prophecy says.”

“So it is to do with the prophecy and nothing to do with Mr. Saltarian’s involvement in raising me to power?”

She was silent for a moment, just a brief second too long, but that was all the confirmation Copia needed.

“You are despicable.”

Sister Imperator’s expression remained stoic, her eyes meeting Copia’s with unwavering confidence. “Everything was done for the Church, for our cause. The emergence of the antichrist is a crucial moment in our history, and we can’t afford to let it slip away.”

Copia scoffed, the bitterness in his tone cutting through the air. “For the Church? Or for your own gain? Mr. Saltarian’s involvement, the manipulation of prophecies, the orchestration of all three of my brother’s deaths - all to secure power for yourself.”

Sister Imperator leaned back in her chair, a sly smile playing on her lips. “Power is a means to an end, Cardinal. Our mission is to bring about the reign of Satan on Earth. Sacrifices must be made, alliances forged, and obstacles removed.”

Copia’s anger intensified, a storm brewing within him. “You manipulated me, used me as a pawn in your game. And for what? To satisfy your thirst for control?”

“Control is essential in guiding the destiny of the Church. Your ascension was necessary, Cardinal. You were groomed for this role, and now, you stand at the precipice of a new era. To serve as the antichrist just as the prophecies have told!”

Copia shook his head, his disbelief transforming into a fiery resolve. “I won’t be a puppet in your schemes any longer. I won’t let you exploit the Church - and me - for your personal agenda.”

Sister Imperator chuckled, a low, menacing sound. “You’re still learning, my dear Cardinal. The puppeteer does not relinquish control so easily. The Church needs a leader, and you were chosen for a reason.”

Copia’s resolve saw through the complex web of deceit, and his eyes hardened. “I won’t play your games any longer. I’ll expose the truth to the congregation. They deserve to know the extent of your manipulation.”

“Expose me, my dear boy, and the entire congregation will work to overthrow you.”

“So be it. I never wanted this role - this was your dream.”

“You wouldn’t. Now, enough with this idiocy, Cardinal. You have duties to attend to and a ritual to prepare for.”

“I’m going to put a stop to this.”

“Mhmm. Of course you will.” Sister Imperator went back to fiddling with papers on her desk, making herself look busy in order to get Copia to leave.

With a blazing determination in his eyes, Copia left Sister Imperator’s words trailing behind him. The seriousness of the situation weighed on him, but he couldn’t turn his gaze away from the betrayal that had occurred. He wondered where to go next as he made his way more into the Ministry.

There was an unsettling silence in the hallways, and shadows played on the walls. Copia’s mind whirled with ideas about how the congregation would respond, potential partners he might discover, and the impending threat of Sister Imperator’s power. He knew he needed help, and he needed someone he could rely on.

Copia entered the library in search of comfort, the smell of ancient volumes and parchment reassuring him, and guiding him to a familiar room. He discovered you absorbed in your task, a serene determination on your face. The agony and turmoil of the past had given way to a steely resolution, a testament to your resilience.

You looked up as Copia entered, a mix of surprise and apprehension in your eyes. “Your Dark Eminence,” you greeted respectfully standing from your seat with your voice betraying no emotion. Your eyes were just as wide and doe-like as they were the last time he saw this expression on your face, except that time you wore his bedsheets as a dress. That time he ravished you on his dining room table and showed you absolutely no mercy. The mood he was in again, he didn’t want to show you any mercy again; he wanted you beneath him on that desk, screaming his name and taking everything he was willing to give, everything he felt like he had to give.

Was he wrong for feeling this way? Absolutely. After everything he put you through and after promising to wait for your answer, he should be doing that. He should be waiting for you to contact him. He should be giving you the space and time that you needed to work through this. But there was too much anger coursing through his veins, too much adrenaline working through his body with nowhere to go.

There was a look in his eyes that you’d never seen before - an anger that had never been present in all the time you’d observed him from afar, or spent directly in his presence. It terrified you - but had your core tightening in knots and aching for relief you’d not had in weeks. You wondered if you’d let him touch you like that again, if you’d give in to his urges in order to quell your own.

Copia opened his mouth as if to speak then closed it again. Despite his anger, he was still hesitating to get the words out. But he stepped closer to you, slowly, tentatively, as though moving would scare you off like the doe your eyes portrayed you to be. “You need to stop me if you don’t want this, amore.” He told you, his voice dangerously low and rumbling as he spoke. “Any word from you and I’ll walk away.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, breasts rising and falling with the heaviness of your breaths. Each step he took closer to you made you more and more breathless, your hairs standing on edge and your body tingling in anticipation.

He was right in front of you, a gloved hand reaching up to the back of your head and pulling at your hair from the roots, lifting your face to look directly into his and expose your neck. “If you don’t stop me, I’m going to bend you over this desk and take what belongs to me. Will you let me, amore? Will you let me inside you again?”

You whimpered, unable to trust your voice to convey your thoughts accurately. Your mouth was drier than it had ever been, saliva refusing to flood your mouth and whet your lips. Your whimper was the only response you could muster, and it clearly displeased the Cardinal.

He tugged harder on your hair, lifting your head a little further back. “Words, amore. Use them.”

“Y-yes, Cardinal. I-I… want you inside me.”

Though your words were barely a stuttered whisper, Copia still counted them. His lips smashed against yours, teeth banging against teeth as he encapsulated your lips in a rough kiss. The hand that wasn’t tangled in your hair moved to your waist, pulling you closer to his body while he pushed you back against the desk, trapping you between him and the wood just as he did the first time he had you back in London. His tongue entered your mouth, tasting you again for the first time in so long, and groaning at the sensation. He missed this - he missed you. There was a part of him that wanted to be gentle with you, but the rest of him was too tightly wound; he couldn’t bring himself to handle you with care.

He broke the kiss and stepped away from you just long enough for him to grip your hips with both of his hands and turn you around, before he pressed you back up against the desk. His hard cock tented beneath his jeans and cassock, bulging against your ass cheek and reminding you just how much he desired you, how much he craved and needed you.

Your palms were flat to the lacquered wood, leaning against the desk for some support while Copia had his way with you. His hips gently rocked against your body, desperately rubbing himself against you as his lips attached themselves to your neck, kissing and licking at the exposed skin there. In frustration, he pulled your habit off your head and threw it to the ground, before placing his hands back at your hips. But those hands wandered as they loved to do, grabbing and squeezing at your body roughly, getting their fill of you after weeks of being deprived. He gripped onto your love handles, your stomach, moving his way up and groping at your breasts, squeezing and rubbing them beneath his gloves and your clothes. He caught hold of your nipples between his thumb and finger, while his teeth captured your ear and bit down gently.

“Copia!” You breathed, your hands moving to sit on top of his as they tweaked and pulled at your clothed nipples. Small moans escaped your lips as he toyed with your body, your pussy dripping and screaming for some attention.

Copia chuckled and released your ear. “Is she needy, hm? Needy for her Cardinal’s cock?”

“Please.”

“Sathanas - you have no idea how much I missed hearing you beg for me, amore.” He let go of your right nipple and ran his hand down your body, stopping at your crotch. He covered your cunt with his hand and gripped it. “Are you wet enough for my cock, I wonder? Are you ready for a good,” he slapped your cunt, “rough,” another slap, “fucking, hm?”

“Yes, Copia! Please!”

He lifted your habit and dipped his fingers into the waistband of your panties, hooking them against the elastic. “Tell me, amore. Tell me how much you want me to bend you over this desk and pound this cunt.” He pulled them down just enough to completely expose your bare pussy to him, a string of your wetness snapping when the fabric was pulled too far down your thighs.

“I w-want you so deep inside me. I’m so desperate for your c-cock, Copia. Please… please give it to me.” As you spoke, you felt him reach beneath his cassock and fumble with his clothes to free himself. “Fuck me, please!”

His hand came up to your shoulder blades and pushed you down flat against the desk. The other fisted his cock, stroking a few times before lining himself up with your dripping wet entrance.

“I won’t be gentle with you, amore.” His warning was delivered more like a threat, but it had your walls clenching nonetheless.

“Make it hurt.” You whispered.

He pushed in all the way to the hilt, not bothering to take it slow. He let your words go to his head and set a relentless pace inside of you, hitting your cervix deliciously and making you scream out with each thrust. Your cunt opened up for him just as easily as it always did, further proof that you were made for him. His hips snapped slowly, but roughly, making your entire body jiggle with the force of each one, and the heavy desk to slide across the floor.

Sliding into you felt like sliding home. After all the time he was away from you, he couldn’t have you, and hold you in his arms, there was a massive bout of relief that washed over him. This felt good, it felt right. It was everything he needed after all this time. And you felt the same way. You didn’t realise just how much you needed him and missed him until that moment.

Copia’s grunts as he rammed his cock inside you filled the room alongside the loud squelch of your cunt swallowing him whole. His hands were now attached to your hips, gripping onto them as tightly as he could, leaving red marks and bruises in his wake. Copia was so long and thick that he stretched you out so nicely, and he always made you feel so good inside. By the time he was finished with you, you were usually a sore, shaky pile on the bed, with little ability to move or even think. You could feel your knees weakening as Copia rearranged your insides, your whole body turning to mush at his hard mercy - a mercy he wasn’t willing to show you as he picked up his speed but maintained his roughness.

There was a dull ache that came with the head of his cock slamming into you as hard as he did, but you worshipped the feeling. After going so long without feeling him stretch and fuck you, you needed to feel him, no matter how much burning came with it.

Your ass jiggled more than normal as you moved your hips to meet his thrusts and arched your back as far as you could for him. He let loose a torrent of profanities in Italian, each one telling you how you felt incredible for him, wrapped around him and squeezing him so fucking tightly he could hardly breathe.

“Made to take this cock, eh?” He huffed, his Cardinal paints dripping from his face with the exertion of his movements. “Built for me to fuck whenever I wanted to. Cazzo! I didn’t take you as much as I should have. Should have had you hanging off my dick every fucking day. Closest to fucking Heaven I’ll ever get. Fuck!”

“Right th-there! Oh, fuck, Copia! Right there!” You moved your hand down to your clit and began to rub at it, furiously stroking your bundle of nerves and tightening around him, causing him to let out a groan so deep and gutteral, it had you whining for him.

“Always so tight for me, amore.” He breathed as he watched the cream from your pussy gather at the base of his cock. “Always so wet and pliant, taking everything I give you like a good fucking girl.”

He started thrusting more rapidly and erratically. The fingers that had been gripping your hips clenched even more tightly than before, as if he was afraid you may vanish at any moment and leave him without an orgasm.

“Copia! You - fuck! - You’re gonna make me cu-cum!” You could feel your toes curling in your shoes, your brain turning to mush at the feeling of him rearranging your insides like he hadn’t done before.

“Tell me, please, amore! Tell me how much you love this cock.”

“Copia, n-nobody could… compare! Nobody could ever… make me cum… like you. Fuck, Copia, I’m so close. Please!” You continued to work yourself into a frenzy, rubbing quickly over your clit and applying more pressure, your other hand gripping onto the edge of the desk so tightly your knuckles were turning white.

Your cunt cinched tighter around him, making him feel almost choked. As you reached your peak, it became extremely hard for him to move inside of you. Copia felt his knees turn to jelly from the force of his body, forcing him to thrust within you one last time before spilling his load into your twitching hole, a strangled groan falling from his throat as he bent at the waist, sweaty forehead resting on your back while he was emptying himself into you.

But he wasn’t done with you yet.

He pulled out of you, ignoring your whine at the loss of connection. You turned your body as much as you could to watch Copia fall to his knees behind you, groping your ass cheeks and pushing them upwards, in turn spreading your labia apart and watching as his cum spilled from you like honey from a wand. “So fucking filthy for me, amore. What a gift for me, eh? I was blessed by the Dark One, no?” With his hands still pulling your body apart, he dove into your cunt, licking the dripping cum from your hole first before playing with your sensitive clit when he’d deemed your labia clean enough.

His tongue came down on your hole again causing you to cry out in sensitivity as he dipped his tongue inside you, scooping out his seed and swallowing everything he’d gathered. The one hand that played with your clit was now tangled in his salt and pepper hair, pushing him deeper into your pussy as it screamed for a second release.

“Amore, does my tongue feel that good?” He tormented you with his remarks, stroking over your clit with his gloved fingers in place of his mouth for a little while. “It’s that good that I could make you cry like that? Merda! Listen to yourself.” To prove his point, he started to suck on your clit more forcefully, making the squelch of your heat louder with each rough move.

Following his actions you tried again to stifle your cries by biting your lower lip, but it didn’t work. Instead, your cum leaked out of your body onto his face, soaking his moustache as you came a second time. He was moaning at your taste, and you could hear him slurping everything up, like he was sipping from a water fountain. It wasn’t until you physically pushed him away, your body exhausted and shaking that he finally stopped tormenting you with his tongue, and backed up.

Like an old man usually would, he groaned as he stood up from his knees, gripping onto the desk to help him stand as his own body wasn’t responding as it should. You chuckled at him, a lazy laugh spilling from your lips as you watched him rest against the desk, tucking his soft cock back beneath his clothes. His breathing was heavy and ragged, and his chin still glistened with your release, his hands not wiping him clean yet for reasons unbeknownst to you. So, you fought with your own weakness to stand in front of him, and kissed him, your tongue popping out from behind your lips and licking up your juices from his lips. Once you pulled away, you rubbed your thumb over his chin and wiped up the excess of your cum, sucking it into your mouth.

“You shouldn’t do things like that,” he complained, “I’m too tired to fuck you again. Give me a few minutes.”

You laughed. “Rest and recover, old man.” You said, tapping his chest with your hand. You began to pull your panties back up and make yourself presentable. “What brought all that on?”

Copia explained his reasoning for coming to find you, that he didn’t intend on fucking you within an inch of your life, but he saw you and he had too much energy, too much adrenaline, he just couldn’t help himself. You listened intently, affectionately holding onto his arm and pressing soft kisses there every now and then. It wasn’t until he’d been silent for a few seconds that you realised tears were beginning to fall from his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he blubbed upon noticing you’d seen him, “I’m so sorry.”

Copia’s sudden apology caught you off guard. You reached up, gently wiping away the tears from his eyes. Concern crept into your voice as you asked, “What’s wrong, Copia? Why are you sorry?”

He took a deep breath, trying to compose himself. “I… I just can’t believe how much I’ve hurt you. I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I want it so badly.”

Your heart ached at the vulnerability in his eyes. You sat beside him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “We can work through this, okay? We can figure things out together.”

He nodded, appreciating your understanding. “I love you, ___,” he confessed, his voice laced with sincerity. “I’ve never felt this way before, and I don’t want to lose you.”

You smiled, leaning in to kiss his forehead. “I love you too, Copia. But…”

He cried a little harder. “No, please, no ‘but’. Anything but that…”

“Sister Evelyn’s still going to be your Prime Mover. And I don’t want to be your mistress and share you with other people. Not like that, anyway.”

He wiped a tear from his cheek and rubbed his nose with his glove, taking a sniff before he spoke again. “I never wanted her in the first place. And I don’t intend on going through the ritual with her. I didn’t to begin with, and I definitely don’t now. Please don’t walk away from me.” He pulled you into a tight embrace, holding onto you as if afraid you might slip away. In that moment, you both clung to the hope that love could conquer the challenges you faced, no matter how complicated they seemed.

You could feel a storm approaching as the weight of Copia’s remarks hung in the air. Even after his sincere admission and your mutual hug, an overwhelming feeling of doubt clouded your relationship. You could not deny the truth of Sister Evelyn’s existence in Copia’s life as he clung to you.

“I can’t promise everything will be okay, Copia,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the silence that followed. “I want to believe in us, but it’s hard when there’s someone else in the picture. And with Sister Imperator pushing for this, I don’t see how we can get passed this.”

Copia’s grip tightened, a mix of desperation and fear painted across his features. “I know I messed up, and I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make things right. Please, don’t leave me.”

Your heart ached at his plea, torn between the love you felt for him and the reality of the situation. “Copia, I need time. I need time to process everything and figure out what’s best for both of us.”

He pulled away slightly, his eyes searching yours for any sign of certainty. “Time,” he repeated, his voice carrying the weight of the unknown.

You nodded, tears welling up in your own eyes. “I don’t want to lose you, Copia. But I can’t be with you if it means sharing you with someone else. It’s just too much.”

A pained expression crossed Copia’s face, his emotions on full display. “What if… listen, the full moon and the ritual is in two days. Once the ritual is completed, nothing can change it. No Sister Imperator, no Sister Evelyn, no one. What if I performed it with you?”

Copia’s idea lingered in the air, an intriguing yet unsettling proposition. The weight of his words fell on the room, and you couldn’t help but feel a mixture of unease and want. The prospect of sharing such an intimate ritual with Copia sparked hope, but the history of grief and betrayal threw a shadow over the decision.

Your glance met his, looking for genuineness in his eyes. “The rite, Copia, is a sacred and binding ceremony. This isn’t something to take lightly. Are you sure that this is what you want? And can we honestly move on from what has happened?”

He nodded, a determined expression on his face. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. A life with you matters more to me than anything else.”

Despite your concerns, the honesty in Copia’s voice touched your heart. The thought of rewriting the story and starting again seemed appealing. However, the scars of the past warned of caution.“I want to believe in us, Copia,” you said, lowering your tone. “I’m scared. Is it possible for us to move passed everything that happened between us?”

Copia’s hand gently caressed your cheek. “I know it’s not going to be easy. It’s too late to undo the harm I caused you. But I’m willing to go to any length to get back what we had.”

His vulnerability mirrored yours, and for a brief time, you sensed a real yearning for redemption. The thought of standing at Copia’s side during the ceremony, rewriting the tale together, gave you a sense of hope. “One day, Copia. One day to think about it,” you said, your eyes locked with his. “If we’re going to do this, we need to be certain. No more secrets, no more pain.”

He nodded, understanding the weight of your words. “I’ll give you the time you need, ___.”

He kissed your hand and left the room, butterflies forming once more in his stomach. Copia couldn’t ignore the feelings of nervousness and optimism that swirled in his gut as he left your office. The weight of the coming ritual, the decision hanging in the balance, and the frailty of your connection all played out in his head like a symphony of doubts.

Copia returned to his office and slammed the door behind him, providing a brief respite from the turmoil outside. The room felt both familiar and foreign, reflecting his emotional rollercoaster ride. He took a deep breath, hoping to calm himself. His heart was warmed by the hope that lingered from your conversation. The thought of starting again and correcting the past with you by his side was a light in the shadows. Copia slumped on his desk, his thoughts racing with possibilities, worries, and a desire for a better future. For the first time in a long time, he felt a flicker of hope. The notion of sharing the sacred ceremony with you held out the potential of a new beginning. His ambition was fueled by a real desire to repair what had been broken.

As the night of the ceremony approached, the mood in the Ministry became electrified with excitement. The corridors were alive with whispered talks, and the air was thick with the weight of approaching events. The faithful assembled, dressed in ceremonial attire, and made their way to the Basilica di Lilith for the long-awaited ritual between Copia and Sister Evelyn.

You could feel the tension in the air like a physical force among the wave of followers. After careful consideration and talks with Riley and Aisha, the choice to carry out the rite alongside Copia was made. While the uncertainty persisted, a calm resolve grew within you. This was your night, the first night of many where you would be beside the man you loved - provided all went according to plan, of course.

Copia’s Ghouls had split, and the one half had made their way to a secret, smaller chapel in the Papa’s quarters: the Cappella di Venus, named after another woman who had been demonised by the Catholic Church, based from mistranslations, as usual. Catholics mistaking Venus rising before the Sun, bringing light to the world before the Sun had woken and drowned Her out, they had taken this to be a metaphor for the Devil challenging God, and in turn destroying everything She had, just as they had done for countless women throughout time; Hypatia, Jezebel, Lilith, Eve, Delilah. The list went on.

The Cappella di Venus, located in the heart of the Papal Quarters, radiated a sense of intimacy and secret that contrasted dramatically with the grandiosity of the Basilica di Lilith. Despite its modest size, the chapel was opulent and splendorous, providing a more private sanctuary for the Upper Clergy’s private rites.

The chapel’s entryway was embellished with beautifully carved wooden doors containing occult symbols. When these doors swung wide, they revealed an area that glistened with an otherworldly brilliance. The chapel was bathed in a warm and intimate brilliance from soft lights emanating from exquisite candelabras carefully positioned along the walls.

The architecture of the church reflected a bygone era, with vaulted ceilings covered in brilliantly coloured murals depicting scenes of celestial beauty. Every surface was embellished with gold highlights and intricate filigree, catching and reflecting the dancing candlelight. The air was fragrant with incense, producing an unearthly atmosphere that seemed to transcend the terrestrial realm.

The chapel’s centrepiece was a magnificent altar made of polished marble veined with deep crimson and ivory tones. A tapestry portraying the Emeritus bloodline’s symbol hung behind the altar, a quiet homage to the sacred lineage that ruled the ministry.

A life-sized statue of Venus, the venerated figure of love and beauty, presided over the chapel’s focal point. The statue was meticulously carved from marble and showed Venus with a calm look, carrying symbols of love and grace. Candlelight threw subtle shadows on the statue, giving the impression of movement within the stone.

The chapel’s velvet-cushioned pews formed a semicircle around the altar, creating an intimate atmosphere for the limited few who had access to this secret sanctuary. The chapel’s walls were embellished with stained glass windows representing images of historical significance to the Church, and tales from Venus’ mythology, transforming the ambient light into a kaleidoscope of colours that danced across the polished surfaces.

As you and the Ghouls took your places in the dimly lit chapel, the excitement in the air was obvious. Aisha and Riley stood by your side, bringing a mix of comfort and shared concern. The flowing shadows formed by the flickering candlelight created an atmosphere imbued with both mystery and holiness.

The atmosphere in the chapel appeared to increase in tensity as the minutes passed. The gentle rustle of velvet as Aisha shifted alongside you, as well as the occasional exchanged looks with Riley, expressed the shared fear. You cast sidelong looks towards the entryway, the carved wooden doors closed, separating you from the imminent ritual.

The Ghouls lined the chapel with solemn looks, dressed in their ceremonial attire. Their veiled features betrayed no emotion, adding to the seriousness of the situation. It was a dramatic contrast to the turmoil you were experiencing.

You couldn’t shake the feeling that Copia wouldn’t arrive on time, that circumstances beyond anyone’s control would derail the meticulously prepared arrangements. The weight of the impending rite pressed in on you, increasing the anxiety with each passing second.

Everyone’s attention was drawn to the sound of footsteps echoing in the corridor outside the chapel. The oak doors creaked open gently, exposing Copia standing there in his scarlet cardinal robes, the remainder of his Ghouls following behind him. As you caught his gaze, a rush of relief washed over you, but it was quickly replaced by a surge of anxiety. His eyes were a mix of tenacity and vulnerability, expressing the turmoil of his emotions.

Copia entered the chapel with measured steps, the doors closing behind him with a soft thud. The Ghouls separated to make way for him as he approached. The mood shifted, the coming ritual’s heaviness settling over the chapel like a heavy shield.

He took your hands into his as Aisha took her spot between the two of you, and placed a kiss on the back of them. “Sorry I’m late,” he said, “I had to dodge a few Sibling latecomers.”

“You’re here now, that’s all that matters.” You said, a smile on your red lips.

Aisha sighed. “It won’t be long before Imperator figures out what’s going on, can we get started please?”

In secret, Aisha had taken a white candle and carved it on two sides, one with the symbol of Venus, the other with the symbol of Lucifer - together representing the freedom to love whomever one chooses. The candle was placed in a dish, similar in shape to a martini glass (but the bowl was rounder and the stem was a little shorter) and while you and Copia held it, Aisha lit the candle. “May the Father guide you on your future together,” Aisha said as the candle began to burn down, “and may the Lover bless your union in Her name.” The candle would continue burning after the ceremony had been completed, and once it had burned away, it was said that the remaining smoke would help to bless the couple, and banish negative spirits.

A special oil had been concocted the day before, too, this time by Riley. Using the same book that Aisha was reading from during the ceremony, Riley had crafted an oil known to enhance love and bring abundance, made from roses, patchouli and vanilla, as a symbolic gesture to boost passion, and create a magnetic energy that drew people together. After the candle had begun burning, Aisha took the condiment-sized bowl filled with the oil, and drew the Satanic Cross over yours and Copia’s forehead, right where your third eye would be. “May Lucifer protect you and your union from outside evil.”

Venus, personified in the statue that overlooking the event, cast an ethereal gaze upon it. The warm glimmer of candlelight reflected off the Goddess’s marble face, granting Her presence an unearthly atmosphere, while the light of the full moon bathed the chapel in the rainbow of colours, as if she was bearing witness alongside Venus as well as lending Her power to the ceremony.

You and Copia swapped rings as the rite neared its conclusion, a symbolic union that Satanism kept given its roots in ancient Roman weddings. The ring planned for Sister Evelyn was now on your finger, already blessed and ready for a life bound to an Emeritus.

As the rite came to a close, you and Copia kissed, confirming the tie formed in the sacred chamber of the Cappella di Venus. The bond felt profound, a joining of fates that resisted the tyranny of a false prophecy. The kiss embodied relief, an unconscious acknowledgment that, for that brief moment, the outside world and its difficulties had vanished.

You could feel a gentle presence lingering in the chapel after the rite, as if the ghosts of Venus, Lucifer, and Lilith Themselves were looking over the unhallowed site. The energy left behind was a harmonic blend of celestial elements, and the flickering candlelight seemed to dance with renewed life.

It was done - and no one was able to stop or break it.

Barely thirty minutes after the ritual had completed, chaos broke loose. The consequences of your secret ritual were sure to make an appearance that night, given the fact that Copia had jilted his initial Prime Mover at the altar, and ruined the ritual for another month, but that was before Sisters Imperator and Evelyn had discovered the ritual had already been completed with another woman. They both came charging into Copia’s home - now yours, too - unannounced, Sister Evelyn’s red dress flowing behind her like a hellish princess only to find you and Copia entangled in each other’s arms after enjoying one another’s bodies, the blessed ring nestled comfortably on your finger and an uncharacteristic, shit-eating grin on Copia’s face.

The air crackled with unspoken tension as Sister Imperator’s stern expression deepened.

“What is the meaning of this?” Sister Imperator’s voice cut through the room like a whip. “Copia, explain yourself.”

Copia remained where he was, uncaring who saw you wrapped in his arms. You were both covered by sheets, but even still he felt both exposed yet powerful. “Isn’t it obvious? I chose ___ as my Prime Mover. The ritual has been completed.”

Sister Evelyn’s eyes flickered with a mixture of fury and hurt. “You… you betrayed me, Copia?”

Copia’s grin faded slightly, almost guilty. “Betrayal implies there was trust to begin with. I never intended to go through that ritual with you, Eve, and you know that. I suppose your father will be pissed, though.”

“Of course, he wants the best for me.”

Copia flinched, a cockiness coming from somewhere he’d never used before. It was turning you on to see, if you were being honest with yourself. “Will you tell her, or do I have to? Not fair to keep her in the dark now, is it, Sister?”

Sister Evelyn’s expression shifted from hurt to simmering anger. Her eyes bore into Copia, a storm of conflicting emotions playing out on her face. The revelation of her father’s involvement added another layer of complexity to the unfolding drama.

“I will handle this,” Sister Imperator interjected, her tone firm and commanding. “Evelyn, leave us. I need to speak with Copia alone.”

“No,” Sister Evelyn demanded, “someone is going to tell me what’s going on before I lose my shit at all of you! I’ve been jilted, humiliated and betrayed and now I demand some fucking answers!”

Copia’s defiance wavered for a moment, but then he sighed. “The prophecy is a farce, Eve. It was all a huge lie to get me in power so she could do what she wanted with the Church and your father could get a bit of control.”

“Her dad?” You gasped from beside Copia, earning you a slight chuckle from him. “Oh shit, that explains it.”

While he spoke, he still held onto you, his fingers stroking up and down your bare back softly. “The three sixes in a prophecy is for the antichrist, not for you.”

Sister Evelyn’s anger intensified at the revelation, and she shot a venomous glare at Sister Imperator. “Is this true?” She demanded, her voice sharp and accusatory.

Sister Imperator, ever composed, met Sister Evelyn’s gaze without flinching. “The prophecy was a means to an end, Evelyn. The emergence of the antichrist is crucial for the Church’s future. Copia’s ascension was a necessary step.”

Evelyn’s eyes widened, her disbelief evident. “But I thought… I thought I was meant to be his Prime Mover.”

Copia’s grip on you tightened, a silent reassurance amidst the unfolding chaos. “You were a pawn in this, just like me. I never wanted the ‘Papa’ role, I’m certainly no antichrist, and I’m sorry your fate was tangled up in this so your father could gain some power. Go, be free. Enjoy a new life with fewer responsibilities.”

Sister Evelyn, caught between hurt and anger, took a step back. “I can’t believe I let myself be manipulated like this.” She looked directly at Sister Imperator. “Fuck you. For all of this!”

“Hey, Eve?” Copia said, his voice gentle but the same shit-eating grin appearing on it as before. “We’re looking for a new Cardinal to fill the role in the Upper Clergy - how about it? A bit unconventional but I think you could do well, no?”

Sister Evelyn smiled, eyes never leaving Sister Imperator’s. “I’ll take it.”

Sister Imperator’s nostrils flared, her displeasure evident. She turned back to Copia, angrier than ever. “This disobedience will not be tolerated. You will face the consequences.”

“How?” You said, finally joining in on the conversation to deliver the final blow. “Exposing him means exposing you, too. Would you really want to risk it, Sister?”

A tense silence filled the room as Sister Imperator assessed the situation, her steely gaze shifting between Copia, Sister Evelyn, and you. The balance of power teetered on the brink, and the impending clash of wills hung in the air like a storm about to break. She hated not having the upper hand, not being in control and dominating the underlings. She was, however, a smart woman, who knew when to cut her losses and concede. But if either of you thought this would end here, you’d be wrong. She’d be back with something else, some other way to exert her power and control. But for now she simply muttered, “This isn’t over!” And stormed out, like the world’s worst Scooby Doo villain.

Sister Evelyn, no… Cardinal Evelyn, now with a pep in her step bid the both of you goodbye with the promise of seeing Copia on Monday to make good on his word, leaving the both of you alone in your marital bed.

You climbed on top of Copia’s lap, the bedsheets falling from your body and exposing your nakedness to him in all your glory. “You know, that confidence was very hot of you, Cardinal.” You said, your voice teasing and suggestive.

Copia laughed. “Oh was it, now?”

“Mhmm.”

“How hot?”

“Let me show you.”

And with that, you leaned down and kissed him, a passionate kiss that had him growing hard beneath you again, refractory period now over and ready to take you one final time before you both slept.

Previous Part ⛧ Next Part

Hello, everyone! Mel here.

I just wanted to thank everyone for your continued support since I started posting Kinktober last year, but also now with Lost in Translation. It really means the world to me that you not only read my fics, but also leave comments and share it around, so thank you so, so much! Truly, you don't know how much this means to me.

I also want to thank @zombiesnips-blog for her commission, for her saintly patience, and for trusting me with her idea. This was an incredibly fun piece to work on and I cannot wait for the rest of you to see the next fic we have planned, which will be coming soon!

This is just a quick reminder that commissions are open and I have multiple membership options open, so if you are so kind as to support what I do, then I would be most appreciative. If not, I still am deeply thankful for your time and readership!

Much love!

Commissions are open! ⛧ Memberships ⛧ Tip Jar

[ixiot-ghostrebel]

Ooh, interesting! Lemme see what I can do about this idea. Please remember to send requests via mailbox!

Headcanons: Jean, Lisa, Ninguang, and Ganyu Reacting to Reader Being a Veteran Military Soldier

You were calmly sipping tea and having snacks, relaxing with the character at your palace, talking about random conversations that come and go over the time.

This brought the conversation where you mention your experiences of being apart of the Military for a while before retiring due to the many scars you had over several many combat incidents.

This is how they'll react.

(Disclaimers: Mentions of Scars, Implied Violence/Battles, Might Be OOC!)

Jean

To hear that the Almighty Creator has been through so many battle experience and gaining so many scars, she wished she could've been there to assist you.

She is very much curious as what you've been through, but she doesn't push—she simply wants to make sure you are okay before diving into that topic.

"Your Grace, are you alright? Are your scars hurting you in any way?" She wants to make sure you aren't in any pain of sorts, and will fuss over you and get Barbara to check on you before you somehow find a way to reject this help.

Consider it her way of paying you back for letting her enjoy a cup of tea with you and a good conversation to know you better.

Lisa

Lisa, my oh my...This librarian will be ever so curious on your past battle experiences during this tea session, now that you mentioned it. Of course—she won't push you to explain. She doesn't want to make you upset, nor be struck down for giving the Almighty Creator trauma flashbacks of any sorts.

"Your Grace, if you allow me to indulge myself, may I ask of what kind of battle experiences you've been through? Feel free, of course, to continue to a different topic if I ever seem to be pushing any boundaries." Lisa is a good listener, she'll hear you out, word for word.

And, of course, she sticks to her word. If her questions ever seem to be too much, switch the subject and Lisa will hop onto the new one! After all, your tea is ever so lovely~

Ningguang

First of all, the fact that the Creator is inviting her to have tea and enjoy conversation with them in the first place? She already feels spoiled.

This is probably even better than becoming Tianquan or building her Jade Chamber/Palace.

Ningguang is rather surprised to hear that you've been to battle before. She'll be even more surprised once she digests the information that you've been to several battles. And gained battle scars through those experiences.

Of course, her face doesn't show any of this, but she's pretty impressed and awed. She's trying to imagine it: The Almighty Creator, fighting the front lines, destroying the enemies that dare to face them, etc.

"Your Grace, if I be bold to ask, but what kind of battles have you been in?" As she listens to you talk about some of your battle experience, Ningguang can now understand why people gawk at her and the Jade Chamber as/once they listen to the stories regarding it. Your stories, were very captivating and fed all sorts of scenarios in her imagination.

If you grant her the permission, Ningguang will personally start having storytellers tell the tales of the fierce and Almighty Creator facing threats in battle, for all of Liyue to gain a even deeper respect for you.

Ganyu

To be even in the presence of the Almighty Creator, she already feels super blessed. To hear that the creator has been through battles? Ganyu couldn't help but worry.

She knew that some scars, whether mental or physical, could case pain. So, naturally, she has to ask whether if you're okay or not.

"Uhm, Your Grace, forgive my intrusion, but are your scars harming you in any way?" As a veteran of the Archon War, she knows a thing or two about how people hide their scars, playing off their pain as if it were just an annoying pest. Ganyu wants to make sure you're okay and at top, peak condition!

Teyvat has already lost its Almighty Creator once, and she refuses to see you in pain after your re-descension!

Be prepared to take this task very seriously, because boy, if you are facing anything she finds unhealthy, you are being coaxed and voluntold into therapy.

And that's it! I hope you all liked these headcanons :) See you around next time!

Ghost Rebel Side Notes: Just a quick notice for those waiting for Part 3/finale of "Forever In My Hold" - It's going to take a long while since I'm having a little bit of writer's block on it. I doubt I'll be able to finish it this month. Sorry!

Check Out The Ghost Rebel's Blog Description to See if Their Mailbox is Open!

[bloodyinkandquill]

Follower Sword x Reader

ok i definitely need to check the wiki for him, i must go now my people need me/ref

ok so originally this was egobworder x reader but i just could not fulfill their request because i didn’t know what to write for him, but they reached out to me and we decided on follower sword instead! alright let’s do this

- You were never a huge follower of Illumina, that isn’t to say you didn’t worship him but you didn’t go as far as some of his followers, they could be… a bit much to say the least, so when you ended up with one of his most devoted followers, who had been blessed by his magic, that was a surprise

- Sword is very awkward about anything and everything to do with relationships, he was worried to hold hands because it might be sinful you just gave him a gentle whack and grabbed his hand, he blushed but didn’t pull away, eventually he got confident enough about it to initiate the hand holding, he’s very formal about it though, you just smirk at his old way of speaking and hold his hand, gods forbid you ask to kiss for the first time

- His wings are so pretty, they almost have a purple aura around them, he doesn’t like them being touched however, eventually he let you touch them, they felt like silk on your hands, you were very gentle but having you touch them made him melt, eventually you helped him preen them, he turned to butter under you, thankful since he couldn’t fully preen himself, you watch videos on birds to understand how to do it better, and make yourself blush over a certain fact

- You know him being such a devoted follower that you came second, most of the time first place isn’t there but anytime he is or has some important event around him Sword puts him in the forefront of his mind, after all he got chosen by the deity, you understood but did wish he would be a little less formal about it, you never made a thing over it though

- Sword gives you sweet nicknames, his lilac, his orchid, dove, they’re so pretty and make you smile, even if he says them while speaking like it’s the 1800s, you never mind his way of speaking, even if it was a little hard to understand at first

- He gives you a special charm he made himself, he said it will give you protection and good luck, it’s so sweet and you keep it with you at all times, you can see him smile a bit every time he sees you with it, maybe around your neck or in your pocket, you end up getting the habit of fidgeting it when you’re nervous, or just need something to play with to pass the time, if you haven’t seen him in a few days you look at it and think of him, maybe kiss it softly and smile at it with flushed cheeks

- He’s not huge on touch, but he will touch you sometimes, even if he blushes like crazy and gets all embarrassed over it, whispering ‘forgive me for this sinful act’ and you’re like ‘bro we are holding hands I don’t think Illumina cares’ but he still does it, you roll your eyes and kiss his cheek, he blushes heavily but you can tell he likes it by his small smile

- He’s also not that into dates, he prefers just to spend time in your presence, his love language is likely quality time, even if it’s parallel play* it makes him feel so loved, and so you just hang out near him with a smile

hope these were good! i kept writing words wrong because i’m in my russian class and so focused on the lesson because it’s ok russian case, the bane of my existence

* (the act of doing two separate things, with each other, for instance one person is on their phone the other drawing, but you still feel loved, it’s more commonly a love language in neurodivergent people)

[sniigura-archive]

i know you and i like you anyway (1)

chapter 2

nathan prescott x reader ; warren graham x reader

summary: when the pressure and eyes are on you, it’s hard to stay afloat. especially when your not so forgotten best friend comes back into your life. and they are ready to mess up the plans others have for you.

having parents and peers constantly nag you about your grades, interests and lack of an significant other can bring you down. but meeting the new kid in the academy can change at least one of your mocking points.

yn is implied to be afab (lives in fem dorms) but is genderneutral otherwise!

tw/cw: mentions of poverty, mental health issues, canon typical violence, swearing, implied/ref drug use, modern au as in its not 2013, huge canon divergence and messed up time line, obsessive behaviour, possessive behaviour, tell me if i missed smth!

read on ao3 for better formatting and tagging

unlike popular belief nathan prescott did not grow up in arcadia bay. the heir to the prescott name grew up in fort lauderale, florida. his family, from his mother side, lived there. she was able to convince his father to let them live there, bless her soul.

(“it will be good for him! for us! the pressure will destroy him. just look at how kristine treats us.. i don’t want to lose another child.”)

he spend his time at prestigious elementary and middle schools. and at middle school is where he meet you. people started quickly talking about you, simply because you were the only scholarship student. unlike everyone else you didn’t come from money.

your uniform was constantly 3 sizes too big, your hand was constantly raised and when you got anything less than an A there was clear panic on your face. the biggest difference to everyone else were your empty eyes and constant deadpan. seemingly nothing truly got a reaction out of you. there was a boy who tried to, by pulling at your hair and messing up your homework.

you beat him up so bad that the whole class just decided to leave you alone. and fact is, everyone who was near you also got left alone, so nathan was naturally pulled towards you. he wanted nothing more than to be left alone.

middle school was hard, simply because nathan`s problems started to really show, he wasn`t a child anymore who threw temper tantrum’s. he was now a boy with violent emotional outbursts. and quite frankly, children are cruel. getting a rise out of the weird prescott kid was more entertaining than torturing their maids and nanny’s.

because you were the only one who could handle his temper, simply because you didn’t care about it as long as he didn’t touch you, you got paired up for different projects.

and that’s how you meet his family. his father didn’t like you, but he doesn’t even like his own children, so his opinion didn’t matter. his mother and sister loved you, simply because you were very polite. dinners were filled with you being questioned to hell and back while you were trying to eat as much as possible.

“uhhh.. i have an older brother, he’s 2 years older than me…i have a twin brother, too. and another 3 little brothers. my father works at a la…actually he’s unemployed right now. my mother works as a teacher and during the summer break she works..where ever they need someone. what i want to be when i grow up?…middle class.”

meeting you after school was hard, responsibilities which nathan couldn’t even imagine carrying were put on your shoulder.

(“sorry. i have to study and babysit. so sorry, i need to grocery shop and take care of dinner. i wish i could, i have to cut the hair of all my brothers and clean the house. if i don’t pass this test my father will murder me.. i have to study. thank you for being so understanding.”)

to be honest, at first nathan didn’t even want anything to do with you. his mother insisted for him to invite you over. he now knows she pitied you. he now knows, too that you even were able to pull on the heartstrings of his father, because he would ask when you would visit again.

when nathan asked you, why did you have to care for everything, what did your brothers do to help? “have fun, i guess.” he felt angry for you. “how can you just roll over and take it? what the fuck is wrong with you?”

“well, who else would do i? why are you angry? i’m not angry, and i’m the one with the responsibilities.”

nathan learned to love you and the emptiness you carried around.

just like everything good in his life, your friendship (or was it more? it felt like more. he misses you, he misses your mean comments, your eye bags and exhaustion.) ended slowly.

once middle school was over, and he was able to graduate with a dirty record of violent outbursts, which was magically clean once he looked over it. the prescott family moved to arcadia bay. he was enrolled in the blackwell academy.

he found this out at the end of the summer break. to be honest he was getting suspicious, because all his questions regarding the highschool he was supposed to attend were being ignored. his father send him away, his mother smiled at him with sadness, he insisted to go to the same school as you.

“please, don’t forget me at your new cool school.”

“i will NEVER forget you, idiot. you’re the only tolerable person i know.”

the way you smiled at him was still clear in his head. you were beautiful in a way he has never seen, and the older he gets the more he realises he never will see anyone quite as pretty as you.

when nathan is 13 he meets dr. jacoby and starts treatment for the anger he feels. he knows that he fells ptity for him. nathan misses you, when he told you about his father, about the bruises and pressure he is under you simply talk about an escape plan. a way you both will be free from the shackles your family put on you and live happily everafter.

maybe you pitied him, but that would never stop you from treating him normally. you didn’t try to avoid his outburst, his meltdowns, you were always direct to him and never lied. he respected you more than anyone. he sees it in his mother, and relatives, how they dance around him as if he is fragile.

when nathan moved away, the first year he visited every break he could. summer, fall, winter and spring spend together. when he wasn’t there with you, he texted you. sending letters, postcards and hour long phone calls. his father hated this, more than anything.

(“depending not only on someone, but on such a low class person? don’t you know that you’re being used? they only see you as a walking wallet! i will put an end to this.”)

the only time dr. jacoby has seen sean prescott in person is when he expressed his concern regarding a codependent friendship with someone from florida. looking back on it, the doctor realised he was lied to and he was able to convince nathan to stop the contact, the only stable and positive influence in his life.

nathan wishes he could say that he got back in contact with you, that you were best friends again, but life is cruel and he’s a coward. he misses you, more than anything. he thinks he’s obsessed with you, dreams were about you (both dreams and nightmares), his day was spend imagining what you were up to, what you look like now. the silly thing is, nathan has never told anyone about you. victoria knew that he had an ex best friend in florida, but she didn’t know any details, rachel knew he was hung up on someone, jefferson knew that there was someone inhabiting his heart and mind.

and well. the school knew somethings. see, the thing is, when you’re high some things slip out. sometimes you mumble a name once or thrice when you’re passed out, and when you (try) hooking up with someone, you moan the wrong name. more than once. with different people. yeah. when one person claims he said the wrong name it’s one thing, but three? he was in deep shit.

victorias nosiness didn’t help, she wanted all the gory details, but he couldn’t say anything. what was he supposed to say? i fucked it up with the best person, because i couldn’t stand up to my shitty father and useless psychiatrist? sure. part of him was sure that she saw the pictures of you he has in his drawers, in his albums, hidden away.

for a short time nathan thinks he moved on, when he met rachel. she was pretty, smart and nice. she was less than you and much more. and he thinks he’s ok, ok with the distance and unknown which surrendes you. why did all your social media accounts have to be private?

nathan is 18 and it has been nearly 4 years since he has seen you. blackwell turned into the senior focused art academy, just like it was planned. he entered his first year in the 2 year programme and finally he was able to make a name for himself. victoria turned the vortex club into a group for the elite just like how she planned, with nathan’s help. he wasn’t the victim anymore, he finally ruled over the school grounds. summer passed and before he could register it, it was fall break.

it was the last few days and students started to move back into their dorms. the talk right now where the new students attending, some students dropped out because they were catched with drugs on their person, some couldn’t afford the rising tuition prices and others simply moved away because of their parents. nathan couldn’t careless, those who left aren’t close to him, but who is truly close to the prescott heir? he can’t lie though, he lost one of his best customers, or more like frank did.

victoria was in nathan’s dorm room, she was checking out the new student’s. according to her, there were no new people in the girl dorm’s who fit in the vortex club. how tragic. outside on the hallway was some commotion,

“please, move and unlock your door before i decide against helping you with your furniture.” could be heard from the outside, spoken by an unknown voice. the room besides nathan was being occupied. sad. he will miss the privacy and silence. especially now, with furniture being build. fucking hell.

“oh my, hottie alert. two of them even.” victoria was peeking out of his door.

“oh yeah? found some new members?” she hummed, “let’s go over and introduce ourselves. first impressions are everything. before the freaks come and snatch `em away.”

nathan groaned, “give me a minute. i’m still fucking hangover from yesterday. fuck, frank needs to stop stretching his shit or one day i’m going to die, for real.” victoria only chuckled at her best friend.

stepping away from the door she got out here phone and looked herself over in the camera, fixing a few strands and wiping away lipstick which started to smear over her lips. in the meantime nathan got up from his bed, going through his har with his hands and putting on his iconic jacket. with that he left the room, victoria right behind him. looking his door before they make their way over to his new neighbours.

and honestly, he should have expected this, because you always meet someone twice. or that’s what you always said. the door was open, and some guy had his back turned towards them. damn, he’s tall. it’s kinda overkill. turning around, the stranger nearly ran into him and victoria,

“shit! my bad, i didn’t see you there…do we know each other?”

you weren’t who nathan saw when he found out you were back, or more like you were here. in his life. instead, he saw face to face with your twin. the guy was freakishly tall, nathan remembered how small he used to be, now he was over 6 feet tall with clear defined muscles.

nathan with his proud 5`7 feet felt his fragile ego being tested, simply by the fact that some guy he used to know when he was, like, 13 was now way taller than him. and part of him wants to lash out, yell at oliver for not watching where he’s fucking going. but nathan was aware that this would kill any chance of reconciling with you. starting a fight with your brother would immediately put him on your shitlist, even if you hate oliver. sometimes.

(“he’s still my brother. if you talk badly about him again, i’m going to throw you out of this window.”)

“jesus himself could stand before you and you wouldn’t recognise him. stop bothering people, this is the third time you have asked someone this. get your stuff already.” your clearly annoyed voice rang through the room. thankfully this took away n

oliver scratched his head, “man, not my fault i can’t recognise faces for shit. my name’s oliver. nice to meet you guys!”

victoria the angel (or devil) took over the conversation, noticing that nathan was a tiny bit overwhelmed, “hi! i’m victoria and this is my best friend nathan. we just wanted to welcome you to blackwell. if you need any help don’t be afraid to ask us.” she put on her best mask of friendliness. “we are the leaders of the vortex cub, a group for blackwells elite. i’m sure you will fit right in.” taking out a flyer she gave it to him.

reading it over oliver said, “me? for sure. i don’t know about grumpy bear back there.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

“you’re my twin, and i love you but you’re mean. like, even teachers are afraid of you. well, i better get going before you throw something at me.” with that oliver left his spot at the door and nathan finally can look at you. you were sitting in the middle of the room, an unfinished shelf laying on the floor and a toolbox was at your side. in one hand you held a screwdriver and in the other hand, raised into the air you held a pillow, obviously ready to throw it.

you look just like he remembered and at the same time it feels like he’s looking at a stranger. you’re not quite as skinny anymore and your eye bags weren’t as dark anymore. wearing a oversized hoodie and jeans, just like when you were a kid. but now he knows it’s probably more a fashion choice instead of only owning hand me downs and extra big clothes to grow into. of course, you still have to be stupidly attractive. now you wear glasses, too.

you lowered the pillow back to the ground, now that your target left. looking down at the shelf you pouted and said in a small voice, “i’m not mean.” your piercing gaze drifted over to victoria and then nathan, “hi, i’m the mean y/n, apparently.” when you saw him, you did a small double take. victoria and her awareness immediately caught that. stupid artists and their eye for details, especially since she has heard that name mumbled many times.

“oh? where are you guys from?” she asked, smiling at you.

“uhh…florida,” when you saw her raise a brow, hinting at waiting more details you continued, “fort lauderdale, to be exact.”

“what a coincidence! nathan here also grew up there. do you perhaps know each other?” the way victoria smiled reminded you of a dog barring it’s teeth in a warning.

nathan knew you and you would play along with whatever lie he went with, but part of him doesn’t want to lie. here’s his chance to actually start a path, to be friends again (or to be more. but you probably hate him, on the other hand who doesn’t?).

“…long fuckin` time no see, y/n.” what a lame way to say hello after nearly 4 years, but it’s not like he can rewind time.

before he could register it he was hit square in the face with the discarded pillow, “what the fuck? what happened to forgive and forget? huh?”

“woah..” only now did nathan register that fucking warren was also in the room, sitting on the bed. the guy was impressed, he never thought he would see someone attack nathan fucking prescott. warren is putting you on a pedestal right now.

“what the fuck are you looking at, loser?” in true nathan fashion he had to lash out at someone and it couldn’t be you. warren quickly put his hands up in surrender, regretting ever speaking.

“no fighting in my room, guys.” oliver returned in his hands two boxes stacked on top of each other. looking at nathan, he said “so i do know you, what kind of unforgivable act did you commit for grumpy to punish you with the pillow of hatred?”

“stop calling me that!”

oliver walked further into the room, dropping his boxes near you and asking you something, in a hushed voice and a language unknown to the others in the room. when you answered his eyes widened in shock.

“the rich kid! of course i remember you, dude. in fact, y/n will forgive you for whatever you did and marry you. so we- you guys can be rich and shit, together.” oliver nodded wisely, while you looked so tired. shaking your head, you simply started to screw around with the screws in the shelf.

quickly dismantling the shelf, you dropped the screws messily on the floor and stood up, pointing to your brother you said, “you’re horrible,” pointing to nathan, “i’m incredibly angry with you,” pointing to both warren and victoria you spoke your last words, “it was nice to meet you both. warren, i will take you up on that offer to show me around.” and then you walked out with the tool box in hand.

“are you finally going to tell the story about y/n?”

“…fuck, i don’t know how to put up any furniture.”

[raw-law]

is u lgb? cus yo gun pink.... /ref

whats your guys's favorite books?

Light:

I do not get the reference, but..cool!

And I love this question.

It's hard to pick a favourite book, but recently I've been enjoying more of Neil Gaiman's works, his short stories especially. And also Murakami's short stories. I suppose I just particularly enjoy short story collections.

I also read Babel and Everything I Know About Love recently. They're both pretty great!

For manga, I enjoy Junji Ito's collection, and I'm starting a new series called Oyasumi Punpun.

L:

..... i do understand the reference. i'm just disappointed overall............

anyhow. i'm a rather slow reader when it comes to books i actually enjoy. mainly because i never get much time to fully sit down and indulge myself them. one book that i adore but has unfortunately fallen prey to my achingly long breaks: House of Leaves by Danielewksi. an incredible read from what i've seen so far. sadly i am just an incredible book slug.

however, there was one book i've finished recently that i quite enjoyed. The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupery. it got me pretty emotional, i can't deny how wonderful it is.

some other honorable mentions.... Heaven's Official Blessing, If You Give A Mouse A Cookie, and.... nemu*nemu. (those last two are childhood favorites of mine.)

that's all i've got. hopefully they're to your liking?

[originalcharactersexyman]

submitting rod! (they/them)

their boss and unrequited love of hundreds of years (who much more fits the tumblr sexyman stereotype) brought about the apocalypse and left rod in the dirt, and they want revenge.

but first, they want to scrape together the remains of their mediocre solo rock career, collecting loyal audience members with promises of food and shelter. its sparse in a post apocalyptic world. yknow

rod is egotistical and brash, the most uncharismatic man(*)child leader that was ever blessed by eternal life. also they are a clown OH MY GOD IMAGES WONT ATTACH. OKAY HOLD ON I PROMISE ILL GIVE YOU A BETTER ONE SOON BUT HERES THE LINK TO ALL THEIR IMAGES ON TOYHOUSE (PLS POST THE MESSY REF SHEET) IF YOU ANSWER

Understandable!

I'll post the reference here, along with the link to their toyhou.se!

Let it be known that this little goober has been accepted!

Seats Taken: 23/24 (ONE LEFT)

[blobitech]

Idk if anyone else is genuinely invested in this as I am but hiii more Care Bears caelestis things, starting with refs of the main characters!! 🦋

+Little lore paragraph here :3

The Secret Garden of Caelestis is home to two Kingdoms, Seraphia and Aphelion, which both were rivaling kingdoms for many centuries until they had to come together to defeat an evil that feeds off of hatred named Blackheart. Successfully sealing the being away forever into the fountain that connects the two kingdoms, they both made peace with each other and they both celebrated the birth of their heirs to their respected thrones, Lyria of Seraphia and Nimue of Aphelion.(these silly bug ppl are born from flowers hehe) they were seen as blessings due to their rare gem birthstone (which ends up being a curse oop), and the two were super close as children, but grew more distant as they got older and had to tend to their own people. Cielle, the young prince and Lyria’s brother, notices how much sadder she seems, and while he’s a child who doesn’t understand, he makes a wish to send something, anything, to make her feel better. Hence the Care Bears enter scene and epic movie here yeah that’s all I’m telling you for now 😻

[humming-pokemon-helpers]

Welcome to Humming Pokemon Helpers! We provide better therapy for both trainer and Pokemon.

Currently Ongoing: A Vision in the Mirror Closing (link to masterpost)

Past Arc: A Cross of Strange Colors (link to masterpost)

My name is Vanilla (26, any pronouns); I am a human-Zorua hybrid and a psychologist* certified to work with humans and their Pokémon partners, with a trauma-based focus. My practice is based in Unova, my home region, but I take on remote clients as well.

Please feel free to inquire via asks if you would like to know more about my line of work; I am happy to provide advice* on bonds with Pokemon, knowledge, or simply chat. Feel free to ask me about hybridization as well; I know it's a bit of an odd topic.

If you're looking for more information on me, I recently did an interview that gives some pretty good insight into my life!

(Art commissioned from RhymeWithRay! Highly recommend checking them out.)

If you're just looking for the elevator pitch, I grew up in the Lostlorn woods, that was fun, and nowadays in addition to being a psychologist I'm also a Paldean Champion-Rank trainer and technically a model? I'm also taking on the Unovan Gym Challenge, where I've got all 8 badges.

Let's talk about my Pokémon partners! My clinic "mascot" is Chiru, an Altaria who I've known since I studied in Paldea. Those who have known me for a while knew my half-brother, Wolfgang, as well. Though he passed away a hero, protecting our home, I still talk about him a lot, and will continue to do so. Love you always, Wolfy.

My other partners include Ringogo (Appletun), Maamaa (Wooloo), and Momo (Fidough), all of whom provide immense support to my work as therapy Pokemon. I’ve also met Dolly, a deaf Darmanitan, Soda, a Wobbuffet, Wingman (an "ultra-domesticated" Carvanha), Shuu the Serperior, Fruit By The Foot the Scolipede (new and improved name for her height!), Chibi the ✨ Vanilluxe, and Amadeus, my Zoroark mix niece (Dark/Ghost).

I am blessed with the gift to clearly understand Pokemon speech (as part of my hybridization), and as such we are all quite good friends. I would be happy to share their thoughts with this website too!

I look forward to continuing to work with you all!

(OOC and important * under the cut, as well as Vanilla's ref sheet.)

(Profile picture picrew courtesy of ヨイコ.)

Mod is Ace (she/he) @aceoflilies, follows and likes from there. Mod is an adult (22), so please keep in mind if uncomfortable interacting with adults. No shame in using the block button!

I will manly tag with #pokeblogging, #pkmn irl, or similar tags. OOC posts will be tagged #//ooc, and any ooc comments in tags will be denoted with #//. Any and all trigger tags are denoted with #tw [trigger].

*By the way, since I'm posting about therapy and all, I should mention that nothing I post here qualifies as actual IRL advice, nor will I be providing actual therapeutic advice here. Happy to roleplay that IC, but just know that I'm not an actual expert myself, so please don't take my replies as serious advice (though I do try to research them)!

[fionajames]

Hey, Jamie. Sorry if I’m bombarding you with requests. I’m going through a really hard time right now and it sucks and might sound weird but your writing actually makes it a lot better and I’ve been re reading a lot of your recent works to feel better.

Anyway I’m not here to talk about myself sorry. Requesting time once again: can i please have prompt #13 “I thought you were dead” with your choice of characters and maybe a little horror and/or gore?

Thanks, sincerely, your number one fan, Sha 🫡

If I’m asking too much or too many times, tell me and I’ll chill

missing - my ocs

SHA IF YOU STOP REQUESTING IM DELETING MY ACC

DONT STOP I LOVE YOUR REQUESTS, PLS MOREEEEEEEEEEEEEEE I LOVE WRITING FOR THEM

I totally understand that and its not weird. I hope you feel better soon and im very very very grateful that my writing helps you.

alright you gave me the option of whom ever oc i choose so here is Satsuki Noriko an oc of mine. I introduced her in this: https://www.tumblr.com/fionajames/731230304426131456/ocs-pt-2?source=share&ref=fionajames post and if your interesting I did a smoll drabble about her first meeting with rex: https://www.tumblr.com/fionajames/731242121789636608/satsuki-meets-rex?source=share&ref=fionajames.

anyways, people REQUEST MORE IM BLESSED EVERY TIME I SEE A NOTIFICATION ON THE INBOX SECTION WHEN I ENTRE TUMBLR.

ENJOY!!!!!

Satsuki grunted as she spat on the ground of her cell, attempting to get the metallic taste of her own blood out of her mouth. She shivered as she shuffled backwards on her knees towards the wall, rubbing her wrists in pain. The cuffs bounding her wrists were so tight the skin underneath them was red and raw, but her captives didn’t care about that.

Satsuki breathed in deeply, savouring the feeling of the cold air on her tongue to try and block out the ache of her throat when it throbbed from the brittle wind scratching at it. It had been so long since she’d been in this cell, and the only way she was able to keep track of the days was by the light coming in through the tiny window at the top of the wall.

The guards outside her cell and the others paced back and forth, face hidden by their helmets. Satsuki coughed as she shuffled to the metal bed she slept on, using her tied up hands to haul herself to her feet. The bed was beyond uncomfortable - it was probably more comfortable to sleep on the floor - but Satsuki relished the thin sheet she’d been provided as a blanket. It hurt too much to lie on her back so she lay on her side instead, waiting for the call from the guards. 

“Lights out!” One of the Mandalorians called - as though there were lights to turn off - as he marched away from the cell corridor in his shiny black armour. Satsuki hated that sleek, black armour more than anything. 

‘Lights out’ meant to sleep on your bed - not on the floor - facing the wall so the guards could see your bound hands. Satsuki listened to the quiet rustling of clothes as the other prisoners copied her, clambering onto their metal slabs for the night. 

A few moments later, the Mandoralian guards of the night shift entered and Satsuki watched the faint shadows of the bars from her window fade, her signal that it was nighttime. 

Sleep never came easy to any of the prisoners, but at least they were allowed it. Satsuki knew that every single one of the prisoners - including herself - feared the day where sleep was not permitted, and so they forced themselves to sleep. Satsuki squeezed her dull black eyes shut - dull from the days of hiding in the dark - and waited for uneasy and silent sleep to take her. 

                                -

“Lights on!” A voice shouted and Satsuki shook herself awake, blinking away the tears in her eyes away as she scrambled from her bed to her cell bars, collapsing on her knees. 

The sleekly armoured Mandolorian returned - or at least it looked like the same one, it was hard to tell when they all bore matching armour - clutching a metal tray. He shoved it through the gap in the bars near the floor and Satsuki managed a ‘thank you’ as she bent down. 

No-hands eating was rather hard - she’d discovered - as she took the rations bar in her mouth and tilted her head back, letting it fall into her mouth and chewing hurriedly. The Mandolorian reached through the bars and clicked with his mouth. Satsuki stood up quickly as the guard pressed a cup of water to her lips and gently tipped it back.

He - Satsuki could tell it was a boy - refilled the cup and let her drink from it again, as she savoured the taste of the fresh cold water. After she’d finished the second cup, Satsuki watched as the Mandolorian filled the third cup to the brim, letting her drink from it again. But when she was done, she noticed something at the bottom of the cup. The Mandolorian tilted the cup back so the contents fell on the floor and without a moments hesitation, Satsuki placed her foot over the object. 

“Hey, what do you think you're doing!” The Mandolorian shouted but Satsuki could see from his body language that he was faking - acting - for whatever reason she did not know. “Get back to your wall!” Satsuki nodded and did as she was told, dragging her foot along the ground to bring the objects with her. The Mandolorian took the tray and left - but she knew he would return shortly to stand guard. Satsuki bent down and lifted her foot, using her hands to awkwardly pick up the two objects, placing them in front of her so her body hid it from everyone but her.

Satsuki managed to somehow stifle a gasp open seeing the reveal of the two objects - eyes widening as her mouth fell open in a gape. Footsteps behind her signalled the guard had returned to his post, but she didn’t turn around. 

In front of her was a small black remote with two singular buttons alongside a piece of crispy, old flimsi that read six simple words. Six simple words that changed Satsuki’s life. ‘I’m getting you out of here’ was scribbled on the paper in messy, Galactic Aurebesh. 

Hesitantly, Satsuki looked back at the remote and at the shining green and red buttons. Glancing behind her once - seeing only her guard - Satsuki bent down and pressed the green button with her nose roughly. She gasped when the pressure on her wrists ceased, and the cuffs clattered to the ground behind her. Satsuki hurriedly shuffled around to hide all three objects as she massaged her bruised and abused wrists, licking the cuts with a grimace. They’d need treating. If we can get out of her, she reminded herself, glancing at the Mandolorian who was watching her carefully. 

She moved a ‘thank you’ and he gave her the smallest of nods. 

Then, all of a sudden, the Mandolorian whipped his pistol out of his holster and shot two nearby guards, their bodies falling to the ground slightly within Satsuki’s view. She gaped and then stood up, rushing to the bars as the Mandolorian ducked away from blasts, shooting at the remaining guards who collapsed lifelessly. 

They were not expecting a fight, Satsuki inwardly mused with wide eyes. The Mandolorian turned to her and typed a code into the keypad. The red-haired girl watched - frozen - as the gate slid open, the bars no longer in front of her. 

“C’mon,” the Mandolorian commanded but Satsuki didn’t hear as she stared open-mouthed at the empty space where the bars had been. The Mandolorian snorted and shrugged off his helmet, revealing a boy around Satsuki’s age with fluffy black hair that covered his face, dark swirling eyes and natural-tan skin. He rolled his eyes at her. “Come on, Noriko, let’s go!”

Satsuki could barely comprehend the open-doorway in front of her as she accepted the pistol he shoved into her chest and scrambled after him, glancing back at the remaining prisoners. “Can’t we free them?” She asked in a hushed voice as they reached the exit. 

The Mandolorian rolled his eyes again and slammed a button on the keypad, watching all the doors open. “Happy?” He snarked with a sarcastic grin, grabbing her wrist and dragging her through the doorway and up the stairs. 

“Who are you?” Satsuki shouted at him as he ran his free hand through his hair, tossing the fluffy wisps around as he let go of Satsuki’s wrist and grasped his other pistol. 

“I’m Aramis Yvain,” he replied as she tripped over a step clumsily. Aramis ducked to pull her back up to her feet, continuing to hurry up the stairwell. “I’m getting you home.”

“Why?” Satsuki huffed as Aramis opened the next door. She rolled through the open doorway and fell into a sort-of crouch, placing her pistol-gripping-hand in her open palm to steady it as she shot down two Mandolorians. The remaining three spun around and Aramis quickly fired three blasts, two hitting their targets and the final missing. Satsuki rotated sharply and shot the final. 

“Impressive,” he muttered, ignoring her question. Satsuki grinned proudly before her stomach twisted at the reminder of Rex - who taught her how to fight like that. “I don’t think you deserve to be here.”

“Thank you,” Satsuki told Aramis as she watched him open the door ahead, showing no relief when it was empty. “For saving me, and believing me.”

“Well,” Aramis smirked as he opened the next door, abruptly tackling the Mandolorian ahead. Satsuki shot the other three whilst her companion grabbed his opponent in a choke hold and brought back his arm sharply, killing the man. “No one else was going to.”

Satsuki nodded sadly, knowing the truth that everyone else thought she had died. It shook her to the bone as she thought about her friends and family. Hopefully they’d been upset about her ‘death’, as she’d be devastated if they didn’t care.

“How do you plan on getting us out of here?” The red-haired girl asked as they continued through the base, shooting and killing everyone they saw. 

“Well,” Aramis began, kicking a guy in the face before shooting him in the chest. “Assuming that comm you had on you can contact a friend, we’re going to get it back from the belongings room.”

Satsuki grinned wildly, knowing that the comm he was talking about was connected to Rex’s channel, meaning she’d be able to contact the Captain and 501st with it. “Of course, my new friend.”

Aramis rolled his eyes at the mention of being her ‘new friend’ and shot her opponent. Satsuki jumped over his crouched figure and shot the Mandolorian behind him. 

Then the door in front of her opened quickly, and a group of Mandalorians entered the room. They fired quickly and Aramis dropped to the ground, watching as Satsuki did the same but… differently. “Noriko!” He screamed as he scrambled to her figure, dragging her collapsed body behind a cargo crate as he killed the Mandolorians quickly. Aramis sucked in a breath as he studied the harsh black wound on her shoulder, meeting her raven-eyes with a horrified expression. “That doesn’t look good.”

“Doesn’ feel good ei’er,” Satsuki muttered, her face paling as it scrunched up with pain. She whimpered. “Aramis I don’ wanna die.”

“Hush, Noriko,” he told her, cradling her body as he pulled a canteen of water off of his belt, pouring it onto a cloth and dabbing it on her wound. Satsuki cried out but he persisted. “You’re going to be okay.” He told her sternly, as though it were an order. 

Aramis pulled Satsuki up and draped her arms over his shoulders and her legs around his waist, carrying her like a baby as he continued to the belongings room. “We’re almost there,” he assured her, shooting down another few Mandolorians before they had time to even register the arrival of the pair. 

“‘Hat’s good,” Satsuki murmured, eyes closing as she tried to push against the pain. Aramis smiled grimly at her attempt to stay awake as he entered the next room.

“We’re here,” he told her, placing her down on a cargo crate gently as he hurried around the room. “Noriko, Noriko, Noriko” Aramis muttered as he glanced at each box, searching for the one labelled as Satsuki’s. “Aha!” He cried out as he yanked a wooden box down from a high shelf, breaking it open on the floor and rummaging through the objects.

A comm fell into Aramis’ palm and he tossed it to the injured girl as he gathered the rest of her stuff. “Comm your friends, quickly!”

Satsuki muttered something under her breath before pressing the button. “Rex this is Satsuki, Captain Rex come in,” she called into the device as Aramis left her side. He began muttering his own name under his breath and then gasped from out of sight. 

“Aha!” Amaris exclaimed as he tugged a box down and began changing out-of-sight from Satsuki. The girl continued attempting to comm her friend and frowned when she received no response. “Ya like?” Amaris asked as he stepped into view. He’d ditched the sleek black amour and was wearing black jeans, a grey t-shirt and a black leather jacket. He had three silver rings on each hand and a dark brown belt with a holster on his right side. 

“Lookin’ badass,” Satsuki mused as she yawned, rubbing her eyes. “Captain Rex, do you copy?” Amaris’ grin dropped at the silent response before a beep from the comm made both of their faces light up.

“I copy,” a familiar voice replied - monotone and emotionless. Satsuki frowned. “Who is this?” Amaris raised an eyebrow at the girl who offered a short shrug.

“Rex?” Satsuki repeated. “It’s me, Satsuki.”

The line went silent for a second, before the Clone replied. “Satsuki?!” He exclaimed, sounding alive rather than dead like he had moments ago. “Where are you?” Amaris silently showed her the coordinates from his wristband and she repeated them to Rex. “Alright, the General’s permitted us to come get you, as long as he comes with.”

“Good ol’ Skywalker,” Satsuki chuckled, before coughing loudly as the first drop of blood fell from her wound, landing on her tattered clothes. Amaris cursed as his brow furrowed. He used the cloth he’d cleaned her wound with to bandage it. “How long will you be?”

“Your in luck,” Rex replied. “We’ll be there within the hour.”

“Good,” Amaris muttered, so quietly the Clone didn’t hear him. Satsuki smiled at her new friend as he passed her a ring he wasn’t wearing. It was a silver ring of a tooka and she grinned as he slipped it onto her pointer finger. “For good luck.”

Satsuki nodded and reached out her pinky finger as the line went dead. Amaris copied and intertwined their fingers. “Good luck for us,” the red-haired girl grinned maniacally. Amaris nodded as he sat down beside her. She rested her head on his shoulder as sleep grew more and more tempting, eventually letting it take her.

                                -

Amaris’ hand shot to his pistol as the door opened and he raised it, prepared to shoot. “Don’t shoot!” A voice called as a Clone with white and blue armour appeared around the corner. “I’m Rex!” The teenager dropped his hand with a sigh of relief as the rest of the Clones filed in. The Captain yanked off his helmet as he rushed to the sleeping Satsuki, cursing colourfully at the sight of her wound. “Kix!”

A Clone with a red medic symbol on his shoulder pad rushed in, placing a pack beside the trio as he began to tend to Satsuki’s wound. She shifted in her sleep and her arms opened at the feeling of someone touching her wound. “Aramis?”

“Right here,” he responded as he ignored the sharp, suspicious look the blonde Clone shot at him. “Your friends are here.” Aramis fiddled with the silver ring on his left middle finger - a shimmering skull ring - as the gazes of the room's occupants turned to him. 

“Rex?” Satsuki sat up abruptly but Kix pushed her back down. Rex nodded and moved to pat her uninjured shoulder fondly. 

“Right here, Vod’ika” the Captain soothed gently and Satsuki relaxed back into Aramis’ shoulder - who had stiffened at the Mando’a. “I thought you were dead, sorry, we thought you were dead.” Aramis couldn’t help but soften at the gentle and loving tone of the Clone. 

“You should’ve known better,” Satsuki choked out with a grin and Amaris chuckled. “I don’t die.” Rex chuckled too, reaching up and ruffling the teenager’s hair fondly.

“I should’ve known. I’ll remember from now on.”

THAT WAS MY LONGEST ONE YET!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

@techs-goggles9902 i hope you enjoyed that and request every. second. of. the. day.

REQUEST PEOPLE

IM SRS RN.

[gg-carboxylase]

This is from a media analysis standpoint, not a criticism of the actors. I love absolutely all the actors in Only Friends. They are legitimately all of my faves. Please, if you don't understand why media analysis exists, I'm not the blog for you.

I'm almost shocked that so far we have gotten filthier kisses from ForceBook and NeoMark. Almost.

And you know what? GOOD FOR FirstKhaotung for having boundaries and keeping to them if that's what was the cause. I'm good with that. Khaotung said it was hard to play / act that scene. (ref: Twitter Space 8/19 translation from FKT OFC, by @/_SB95X)

I had a mild suspicion that they would be the ones that wouldn't get super filthy and I think they will continue to be US weeknight TV appropriate.

The struggle with that scene is evident. There are 21 cuts in 36 seconds. That's... A lot. P'Jojo says that, "This couple gives a rock vibe so their sex scene was not that smooth." (ref: same Twitter space, same translation, same user.)

Now I love P'Jojo but that's an absolutely absurd explanation for these cuts. They aren't jump cuts like you'd get in a MV or similar sequence. They're trying to look smooth.

What I think is the explanation was put forward by my friend, the ever fabulous @crowie. Here is a screenshot of the fan translation of that same Space:

P'Jojo wasn't on set that day, and I'm not sure P'Ninew was either. Luckily, with everything being digital, you can film for 20 minutes of mess and cut the best parts together, which is what looks like might have been done with this. And that's a blessing. It's still a mess, and really, there's two camps here and it's fine if you like it!

Khaotung posted this photo on Twitter during the episode:

As predicted, First is absolutely about to combust. I also do not remember Khaotung's tattoo being that high, so those jeans might just be indecently low waisted.

Not a fan of the song they chose for them, but you can't win the soundtrack lottery all the time, either.

I saw someone on Twitter call their scene the hottest makeout scene in a BL ever and... Champs. It was good. You know what? Their scene in Our Skyy 2 might have actually been hotter. It definitely was not the hottest thing that's been put to digital media for BL.

Yes we love FirstKhaotung, but we can't let that get in front of what is actually going on, you know? We need to be impartial when we're doing analysis here.

YMMV, obviously. Feel free to tell me why it was the hottest thing with supporting evidence other than because.