#anyways. its a preventative measure. you understand

[eggl-rd]

wisdom teeth r annoying as hell bro nobody invited you here you dont fit in nobody wants you here [flashbacks to highschool, suddenly sympathizing with the outcast nature of my wisdom teeth] maybe wisdom teeth coming in makes me uncomfortable because Im tha problem .

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

so the language of the additions on this post was very consciously influenced by my experiences living in countries with laws and cultures dominated by Islam and Buddhism, respectively.

Yes I grew up in an oppressively Christian culture, but Western Christianity is not solely or even necessarily singularly oppressive, and is certainly not the only religious structure that leverages shame in a dangerous way. And we do the world at large a disservice by acting like other major global religious institutions are harmless simply because they aren't Christian. Religious trauma comes in many forms, foreign and familiar.

not to be anti-religious but i do wonder if teaching children that they are innately flawed and sinful is, perhaps, not a healthy worldvi

[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!

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[herotome]

Hi! I hope you're doing well! I was wondering... how would the ROs + Daeng if you don't mind deal with MC who's having an anxiety or panic attack? I'm pretty reluctant to reveal that part of me to others bc the ppl around who don't really take that stuff seriously or just see it as a nuisance. I can usually calm down on my own, but it's hard sometimes. I hope the cast are more kind about those sorts of things...? Thanks for such an amazing VN btw!

Aw man, me too. I still remember the first time I really sat down with my mom and discussed my anxiety with her and explaining how getting on medication was helpful. I knew that if I told her when I was younger, she wouldn't have taken it seriously or just hoped it would go away on its own somehow -- it was really up to me to pursue treatment as an adult.

Invisible illnesses can be difficult for others to imagine and understand. It was a little... "easier" for my mom to understand when she saw firsthand before & after of my panic attacks vs management via medication; it sucks that that's what she needed to really be empathetic, but that's how people are sometimes.

Anyway.

Warden: I don't think he'd know what to do...! Deer in the headlights. If MC can muster up the strength to ask him to fetch something, he'll provide it in a heartbeat. Or heck, best case scenario, give him a list of what he can do next time lollll. He wouldn't understand at all, but he'd be caring and want to help.

Griffin: Has a better understanding of anxiety and is interested in discussing preventative measures; how can she ensure MC is able to minimize situations that panic attacks? He'll find all the ways. Healthcare, therapy, all of it will be researched and organized for MC if MC permits it. Griffin will happily make all the phonecalls, too.

Mia: lol she kinda panics in tandem. Er, sympathy panic? Like how someone might experience the same symptoms when their partner is pregnant. 😂😂😂 She'd be Very Worried and checking on MC for the rest of the day, even well afterwards. Particularly loving and coddly once the panic attack has passed.

Dart: He will offer a hug and a calm conversation about how MC is feeling. (It's very nice.)

Jade: As someone with anxiety also, she knows all the anxiety hacks. Want to bite into a lemon? Do breathing exercises together (like in the game)?? Or do a 5-4-3-2-1 grounding technique?? She'll find something that works for you.

Daeng: ????????? What do you want from HIM??? Hahaha.... I guess he'll awkwardly fan MC with his hand and ask if MC wants water or something.. And will remind MC that MC still has to pay rent..

Best he can do is to offer to get "the furball" Katie for MC to hold, but it's unlikely he'll think of it.

[enlightenedfeline]

Self-rp scene!!

These are two ocs who aren't in any of my current WIPs, but I thought of them and came up with their lore like months ago, so I figured why not put them in a roleplay server and see how it's like writing them?

Because this is self-rp, keep in mind that its very dialouge based, and there's barely any setting description since this is all takes place in a pre-existing setting in the series this server is roleplaying!

I'd still like to give some backstory though. This roleplay server is based off of the Gone series by Michael Grant, a six book series where the plot is essentially that everyone over 14 suddenly disappeared, and all the characters are in this indestructible dome, and no one knows what it's made of.

This scene takes place just a few hours after the disappearance, but you'll notice there's already chaos.

(also if youre interested in learning more about the series, make sure to follow my fandom side-blog, @cainesmirrorminion)

Finally onto the scene ^^

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A dark cloud loomed over town, any store that sold food had already been looted of most of it's tasty treats. The atmosphere was post-apocalyptic, despite it only being a few hours since the adults disappeared. Two boys had stuck together and kept on the outskirts of town, the shorter of the two walked ahead of his brother, holding his hand and leading him.

Away from town and all it's chaos, to ralphs, where they'd find something instant to cook and eat.

Mateo, the younger of the two, rambled all the way to the store, his brother followed and silently nodded along, only speaking to make small comments.

"It's gonna be a total dystopian wasteland and no time!" Mateo exclaimed, "If there's already a fire, just imagine how bad it's gonna get later!"

Polo didn't want to think about later, already the world was too unpredictable for his liking, he'd had a meltdown just moments after finding out all the adults were gone. Thankfully, his brother was there for him, just like he always was. Polo was still incredibly anxious, but his brother's hand in his brought him warmth and comfort, as well as a feeling of familiarity in a whole new world, so he was able to control his emotions a little better.

"It's gonna be like Urinetown." Mateo suddenly said.

"We'll have to pay to pee and we'll all be too poor too so we'll try to use the bathrooms anyway and instead get killed by two police officers with a homoerotic relationship?" Polo asked.

Mateo rolled his eyes, "No, Polido. The deeper messages of it are what I mean, about conserving water and stuff."

Polo didn't understand why his brother associated conserving water with a musical, but he didn't question it.

"So, to prevent it, we have to be rich! We have to be Caldwell B. Cladwell, you get it?"

"I don't." Polo replied.

"Ugh!" Mateo suddenly stopped, frustrated, "We have to be greedy businessmen if we wanna survive!"

"Do you know anything about businees?" Polo asked.

"Don't get smart with me!" his brother snapped, "There's books like, everywhere, I can read one and figure everything out."

"It'll be harder than that to run a business," Polo reasoned, "If it was that easy, wouldn't everyone have a business?"

"No because most people are lazy," Mateo retaliated, "But I'm not, I'll be a businessman, I'll tax people for using the bathroom and all that. Are you gonna be there with me or are you just gonna crush my dreams!?"

"I'll be there." Polo replied with a small nod.

He didn't want to leave his brother, and it wasn't like it would be super hard to start a business in a world with only kids. Or a dome with only kids, Polo had heard some talk about an indestructible dome, which made him remember that he wanted to measure the circumference of it.

He looked around but there was no end in sight, everything just looked how it normally did, he looked up at the sky too, and it seemed as limitless as always. He didn't bring up the barrier to his brother, Mateo wouldn't care about measuring the circumference of anything.

The boys entered the grocery store, Mateo let go of Polo's hand and walked around, hands on his hips. On the counter, Polo noticed some coins and paper bills, people must've paid before taking stuff out. Had everyone paid? If everyone paid why did they refer to it as looting? Looting was stealing, wasn't it? If kids paid then they were just shopping, making a mess, sure, but still shopping.

He approached the counter and began counting the money left outside the cash register.

Mateo was already in the pasta and rice aisle, looking for instant noodles. Some kids must've had the same idea as him, because the shelf was almost empty. He was grateful to find some instant food packages, and grabbed all that was left.

"Can't run a business my ass.." he mumbled, "Businessmen think about the future, am I not thinking about the future right now?"

He looked to his left, where he assumed his brother would be standing, but he was the only person in the aisle.

"Marco!?" he called out.

"Polo." his brother replied loudly.

Mateo huffed, he held all the instant pasta and noodles he could carry in his arms and made his way to the counter and left the pasta and noodles on it, then he looked around for the unmistakable bright blond hair, before marching into the snacks aisle, where his brother was standing, holding one finger up and muttering to himself.

"Ugh," Mateo frowned, "You're supposed to assist me, what the hell are you doing here!? Chips are tasty, but they're not gonna last us long."

Polo looked down at him, "Canned food will last us."

Mateo's nose scrunched in disgust, "Have you ever opened any canned foods? The smell is horrible, that on it's own is enough to stop me from wanting to get it!"

"Canned pineapples don't smell bad." Polo said, "We can get those."

"I hate pineapples," Mateo hissed, "You should know that."

"You didn't mind them a while ago."

"Well I mind them now! Why are we talking about pineapples anyway!?" he crossed his arms, "Listen, all I'm willing to get is spam and sausages, so we can make pasta and sausages, and spam's not bad when fried."

"It's really salty." Polo muttered, more to himself than his brother.

"And if you want any chips, get them, don't just stand around doing nothing." Mateo looked at the few chip bags left, "It's not like you've got much options anyway."

"It's not about that." Polo shook his head, "I counted the money on the counter, now I'm calculating the price of the stuff missing to make sure no one stole."

Of course Polo had given himself a ridiculous task to stay busy, Mateo sighed loudly, visibly frustrated at how easily distracted his brother was.

"You really think a bunch of kids didn't steal with no police around!?" Mateo demanded.

Polo stared at him with the same blank expression he usually had, and then Mateo felt the need to clarify that it wasn't an actual question.

"Obviously they did, Polo. You don't need to count how much the store lost, let's just go now, alright?" he asked, sounding tired.

It took Mateo a lot to be patient with his brother right now, it seemed he wasn't aware of the fact that there was a fire in town, and that kids would be behaving like rabid dogs soon enough. They had to take care of themselves, and they only had each other.

But no, what mattered to Polo was that no one stole, not the fact that the adults were gone and they didn't know for how long!

Mateo always knew his brother was unusual, even as toddlers, Polo just didn't seem to think the same way others did. As they grew older, Mateo noticed Polo didn't care the same way he did, he processed things differently. Over time Mateo had grown used to his brother's strange behavior, he had grown fond of it.

The same pattern Polo always seemed to follow, his strangely endearing worries about things that didn't really matter that much. Mateo had memorised his brother's daily pattern, it brought him comfort watching Polo walk to the same places, drink the same thing, eat the same things, even behave the same way.

It was something he loved about his brother, that no matter what Mateo went through in his day, no matter how crappy, no matter how good, Polo would be in his bedroom, finishing up homework, listening to classical music, and then talking to Mateo about some new thing he'd engineered, before happily showing it to him.

Polo was predictable, he had his meltdowns, but Mateo always knew how to handle those, he seemed to be the only person able to comfort him. There was never anything intense with Polo, he was never dramatic, he'd bounce back quickly, and his range of emotions was easy to understand.

Now it felt like all the traits he'd come to appreciate in his brother were inefficient. Mateo had to think about the worst case scenario, that the adults wouldn't come back, that their mother was dead and they were now orphans. If that was the case, then they had to be smart, they couldn't stand around wasting time thinking about who stole what or counting money.

Polo completely ignored Mateo's statement, instead he turned back to the almost empty aisle and continued staring at it.

"It doesn't fucking matter, Polo!" he snapped, "Just turn away and let's go, grab a bag or two if you want, but just- you can't be like this, okay?"

Polo took a few more minutes of staring at the aisle, then he nodded to himself, and turned back to his brother, "A few people definitely stole."

Mateo had already turned away by the time Polo spoke, and made his way back to the counter, silently picking up all the noodle and pasta packages again, before glaring at his brother.

"Pay from your allowance if you're so against stealing." Mateo spat, before walking out of the store, dropping some bags on instant noodles on the floor behind him.

Polo couldn't believe his eyes, he thought he knew Mateo better than anyone, he thought he understood him, he thought Mateo could do no wrong. But right now, before his very eyes, he was doing wrong!

The world around him had come crashing, and his brother along with it. He thought Mateo was perfect, as perfect as a person could get. He was a hard worker, he knew what he wanted and fought tooth and nail to get it, he was the most talented person Polo knew. As a singer, as a dancer, as an actor, just as a performer he was perfect.

But as a person… Was he not perfect as a person?

Polo reached into his pocket and pulled out a fifty dollar bill, just for now, until he got to count what Mateo had taken and pay for it accordingly. Before leaving, Polo grabbed some sausages as they had discussed, and left the money for them on the counter.

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[sailorsplatoon]

Time for chapter 5!!! This one's kind of short, but that's because chapter 6 is going to be big!

You can also read it on ao3!

First

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(Fanfic below cut)

Six months later…

The train screeched to a stop and Janus stood up, slinging faer bag over faer shoulder and picking up the smallfry salmonid that fae had deemed Lil’ Buddy. Fae walked off the train, emerging into Splatsville. It was massive, there was music everywhere, the buildings seemed to go up forever, and right in the middle of it all was the Great Zapfish, coiled around  the battle lobby tower. Or… there should have been? Where was the Zapfish? Faer phone buzzed and fae pulled it from faer pocket as the Anarchy Splatcast intro began to play.

“Listen up! It’s going down…” Shiver began the usual introduction, followed by Frye and Big Man. However, unusually, Big Man had an announcement as the first segment.

“Uh, this was MY story to break. The Great Zapfish is gone!” Frye shouted in shock. The Great Zapfish was gone? Again!? This was the third time, maybe they needed some sort of preventative measure in place at this point. While Janus never lived anywhere near the Great Zapfish before—civilization in Anarchy Bay was too small to need as strong of a power source as the Great Zapfish, and the Splatlands didn’t have any electricity anyway—fae had certainly heard about its first two disappearances. 

Deep Cut went on to talk about how the zapfish powers the entire city and the importance of conserving energy before Big Man wrapped up the segment with a quick “Ay! (Call us if you find the Zapfish!)”

This was not good. Faer first day in Splatsville and there’s already an energy crisis. Maybe fae should have stayed in the Splatlands, though trying to sell the scraps fae and Lil’ Buddy found there never made enough money to live comfortably. And fae did really like it here. Plus, fae already had an apartment sorted out, so it would be a waste of money if fae left already. It was settled then, Janus and Lil’ Buddy would find and return the Great Zapfish! 

Lil’ Buddy jumped out of Janus’s arms and rushed over to a sewer grate. Fae hadn’t noticed before, but there was a strange old man staring at them from inside. He popped the lid of the grate closed once Lil’ Buddy started running over. The small salmonid looked back at Janus and made a little gargling sound. 

Fae walked over and knelt down beside it, “That old man was just watching us from the sewer, wasn’t he?” 

Another little gargle that sounded something like, “Ghujsrjbfshfdlf,” confirmed Janus’s suspicions.

“Agreed, let’s go!” Fae picked up Lil’ Buddy and dove into the grate. The two quickly popped out on the other side, now face to face with the man who’d been watching them earlier. 

“Th-th-the oc-oc-oct…” he stuttered. “The octarians are coming! AGAINNNNNNN!” He introduced himself as Cuttlefish, senior advisor to the New Squidbeak Splatoon, and explained how the octarians were the ones who had stolen the Zapfish the first two times, and were going after it again. Janus didn’t fully understand, as many of the octolings that fae had met had no ill intentions at all. What stood out to faer was how he said, “But they still made off with the Great Zapfish. And now WE’VE got to get it back.” 

What did he mean by ‘we’? Was he trying to hire faer or something? Fae just stood there and stared at him silently.

“… That was a job offer, kid. The pay is… zero… but you might just save the world. You’re in, right? RIGHT!? ‘Course you are! Starting today, you are Neo Agent 3 of the New Squidbeak Splatoon!” He didn’t give faer time to answer. Well, at least fae would be able to save the Zapfish. Cuttlefish gave faer a hero suit that would supposedly help faer fight the octarians. Lil’ Buddy bounced around happily, excited to do some real adventuring.

[momentokori]

oh yeah lemme tell you the different departments so you can place the koolkidz in them also note they’re more likely to see their own departments but there will be crossover every now and then (like they’ll see other departments every other week or something while their own is every day)

anyways I’ll give you their game descriptions lol

be prepared for lore

The Control Team monitors the employees and Abnormalities and plans the best course of action. They give immediate orders to other employees while watching the CCTV feeds. They tend to be quite bossy and assertive, making them unpopular with other teams.

The Information Team analyzes the Abnormalities, profiles them, and devises solutions to issues the Abnormalities may cause based on the data. They are in charge of collecting, analyzing, and archiving observation data and interview logs provided by the Welfare Team. The vast library of data is the basis for finding “solutions” to various problems encountered in the energy harvesting process; they often conduct experiments to determine the consistency and safety of the solution. All of the invaluable information could be gathered thanks to long-term observations and numerous sacrifices made by the team, not armchair theorizing as some suspect… is what they asked us to write here.

The Safety Team gives safety training to new employees and develops action plans for all kinds of potential emergencies that can occur in the company. They establish strategies for situations such as escaping Abnormalities, panicking employees and security breaches, as well as setting up safety guidelines for others to follow. They are notably meticulous and punctual

The Training team is in charge of composing and regulating company policies and various management procedures. They also run general-purpose training programs to help employees adapt well to their new departments.

The Central Command Team represents the Middle Layer of the facility. The upper and lower halves of Central Command take the role of the foundation for the facility, which allows expansion upwards and downwards. The department also functions as a bridge between the Upper and Lower Layers, making it a valuable strategic location

The disciplinary department's top tough team creates and punishes a variety of reasons, such as when an employee violates material rules, does not fulfill its obligations, neglects the job, damages the company enormously, and so on. This department has the best ability to control and sanction the situation. Whether it's a Abnormality or an employee

With the goal of preventing epidemics and secondary infection caused by Abnormalities, the Welfare Team puts preventative measures into action and works on programs that benefit the physical fitness and mental health of employees. In-house welfare is one of the highest values Lobotomy Corporation pursues; for the protection of our valuable resources… ah, no, I mean the lives of our employees

The record team department in which everything that occurs in the company is recorded. There are endless pages to be filled, but the last is always empty. The contracting and promotion of employees is decided by their records and assessments, so the employees always try to get on the good side of those who work in the Record Team; no one knows when [Record Deletion] will take place

The extraction department handles all physical material needed to maintain the company. They play a big role in the upkeep of everything by restoring collapsed facilities and extracting E.G.O. The arrangement, restoration, and extraction of Abnormalities are some of the duties that lie with this department as well. As such, its employees are always facing something from the Well, and moreover have an empty borehole within their hearts

hope this wasn’t too much of a lore dump have fun struggling I suppose ;-;

Nono it's okay, I think I got most of them

I just don't understand stuff well unless I'm really fixated on it and I'm really focused on Spooky Month and KoolKidz

You're good man👍

[rna-world]

Hey I saw your vent post about living alone, and I realized this might be, like, social unacceptable or perceived as rude, so I'd like to preface this with very very sorry if I offend, I'm genuinely trying to help, so if you want solutions to the living alone problem, here are some that might work:

1. Calling a friend when food gets moldy

2. Exposer therapy for the fear

3. Wearing hazmat suit equivalent of protective materials, like a ventilator mask and thick rubber gloves (or disposable gloves!) and maybe (if they exist) using a very strong trash grabber

4. Preventative measures to make sure moldy food doesn't happen (like throwing out food exactly on or before expiration date)

5. Placing all foods that could potentially get moldy, in like a crate like box (open topped for ventilation), so that if something gets moldy, you can pick up the box and dump it's contents in the trash without ever actually touching the contents themselves (extra: box has a lid that you place on when dumping food out of needed)

I understand that some or even all of these might not work, but I hope they help a little bit! Good luck in life, I hope you get what you want out of it!

Again, I appreciate the help, but the post was less about that I didn't know how to prevent mold, but that I felt like I mentally couldn't handle it on my own.

You're not offending me, I just didn't clarify very well on that vent since I made it on the spot after my mom told me that in my attempts to avoid not seeing mold, I ended up just causing it anyways

I do plan on living with buddies (NOT just to have someone throw out mold for me, though that would be intensely helpful) but it's a bit difficult to do that nowadays. Thankfully as of now I live with my family but I won't for much longer it seems

I struggle to even be in the same room with something that I believe or know to be moldy. I've hid upstairs once because I was pouring out a cup I'd forgotten about and found it was moldy and ran away screaming. I always act like it's going to kill me, even though I know fully well its harmless unless its black mold or unless I eat it, which, is highly unlikely

My mycophobia inconveniences my life in so many more ways than just not being able to toss stuff out, because I'll avoid entire sections of my house or even certain foods for a while just because of it. And it's not taken seriously and I sorta feel ridiculous for it too. Why CAN'T I just throw it out or clean it up with some gloves and a mask on?

Exposure therapy would help but I'm a huge pussy

I just feel kinda defeated about the whole thing, especially since other people always have to clean up for me. It suuuucks but I'm not here to garner pity or sympathy, I just want someplace to complain about it. Maybe someone out there is going through the same thing as me and is comforted to know they're not the only one out there

[cookies-sports]

I am sure the confusion was intensified by Sky Sports pausing the clip when Martinez was in an offside position, but it is frustrating to see a number of WoSo journalists with quite large platforms so confidently claim that the 2nd West Ham goal should absolutely have been ruled offside. Especially because the claim I've seen multiple times now is that Martinez being offside in the build-up is why the goal should be ruled offside.

From every angle we have available and using the faint lines visible on the pitch in the mowing patterns with the halfway line as a reference for other measurements, Asseyi looks to be being played onside by Bronze. Whereas Martinez, who is offside, is in a passive offside position and then is onside when the next phase of play occurs before the goal, so no offense is committed. I'd understand it more if the arguing was about Asseyi being offside because it's not easy to tell with the fishbowl effect and the way the camera messes with perspective.

I find it frustrating because, yes, the officiating in the WSL is poor at times and there are decisions made that are just bad. Officiating needs a lot of improvement in training, professionalism, resources and so on. However, not every decision is bad all the time, and journalists should at least know the laws and rules of the game before declaring a gameplay offence so confidently. A lot of new fans coming into the sport for the first time are viewing these journalists as experts, so I think understanding and accurately portraying the rules and offences of the game should be an important part of their work. If they disagree with the rules, fine, say that, but they are still the rules for now.

Side note: Having rewatched the different angles a fair few times now, Bronze was quite visibly hobbling at times in the game today. The mind may still be willing and eager to play as many minutes as possible...but I think your knees might need a rest this international window, Bronze. The human body has limitations.

There's a lot of stuff about the rules of offside below and how passive offside matters or doesn't, if you want to see such ramblings:

How the goal played out

At the start of the build-up which led to the goal, Martinez was in a passive offside position. Asseyi is behind Lawrence but, as above, looks to be being played onside by Bronze who is more central in the pitch.

A passive offside position is when a player is standing or moving in an offside position without intent or impact on the play. Being offside on its own is not an offense. You can hang around offside as much as you like... your coach might not be too happy, but as long as you don't impact on play or display intent to do so, being offside itself is not an issue. There is nuance and interpretation to impact and intent, which I'll come back to in a bit.

The ball was passed from the midfield towards the left-wing. Siren isn't looking closely when she passes the ball in this kind of twisting "hit it upfield", but when she last faced that direction Asseyi was there and the team know Asseyi tends to be that side. It's a last-ditch hit and hope. West Ham special. But, anyway, Asseyi is on the left side of the pitch where you expect her to be. Martinez is the next closest West Ham player, positioned a bit more centrally, but is not particularly close to the ball.

Martinez looks to the side, seems to realise she is offside and jogs back onside. She moves slightly in the general direction of the area where the ball is, but makes no play for the ball, does not gesture that she is going to receive the ball, does not prevent Bronze from running in to tackle Asseyi: Bronze makes no attempt to do that anyway, Lawrence is dealing with Asseyi, Bronze is marking Martinez. Martinez remains a distance of a few metres from the ball, Asseyi, and Lawrence the entire time.

Martinez is now onside and remains onside until the ball is passed in before the goal.

Asseyi holds up the ball, dribbles into the midfield, passes across the field to Smith, who then knocks a longball pass into the box and Martinez runs, from that onside position described above, to get on the end of it and scores with a header.

When passive offside becomes an offside offence

You can commit an offside offence in the build-up to a goal, even if you do not receive the ball at all while offside. That's where the impact and intent from above becomes relevant.

For Martinez to have been considered to have committed an offside offense, one of the following would need to apply:

interfering with play by playing or touching a ball passed or touched by a team-mate - The ball was passed towards the left-wing where Asseyi was. Asseyi got the ball. Martinez did not touch the ball while offside.

interfering with an opponent by preventing an opponent from playing or being able to play the ball by clearly obstructing the opponent’s line of vision - Bronze is ahead of Martinez and Martinez jogs forward, then slightly in the direction of the action, remaining a fair number of metres from the active play throughout. She does not block Bronze's view, and Bronze also isn't close enough to reach the ball. None of the subsequent dribbling or passing to Smith involves Bronze and Martinez doesn't block her from seeing to get involved.

interfering with an opponent by challenging an opponent for the ball - Martinez isn't close enough to challenge for the ball, makes no move to challenge for the ball, does not come close enough to Lawrence to interfere at all.

interfering with an opponent by clearly attempting to play a ball which is close when this action impacts on an opponent - Martinez jogs back onside. There is no clear attempt to play the ball and I don't think the ball or active play is close enough to meet the criteria of being close in the first place, even without the need to satisfy the attempt to play part. Bronze isn't impeded as discussed, and Lawrence is wrapped around Asseyi, quite literally at a few points. She isn't paying attention to Martinez at all.

interfering with an opponent by making an obvious action which clearly impacts on the ability of an opponent to play the ball - Again, many of the same points from above apply. No gesture is made, no dummy or feint is made to try and trick Lawrence or Bronze; Martinez does not interfere with the Chelsea defense.

The remaining two offences under this are to do with rebounds or saves, neither of which apply here.

So, by going through them and comparing it to what happened on the pitch, none of them seem to apply to Martinez and her passive offside position. Bronze moved a little closer to mark Martinez once Martinez was back onside, but that was the only impact her moving back onside had, and it didn't play any role in the play that moved back to the midfield through Asseyi or out to Smith. Walsh was closer to that action than Bronze and once Asseyi ran towards the centre, Bronze stopped marking Martinez and ran back towards the centre herself.

As I said, if it was Asseyi being offisde, I could understand it more with the difficulty caused by the camera perspective and angles. But Martinez? I'm really struggling to see which rule could apply here.

Also, the claim I saw from one account that Martinez never came back onside is just silly. You can see her come back onside quite clearly in the replays.

[aeoki]

Candy House - Programme to Fall in Love: Chapter 11

Characters: Hajime, Sora, Natsume & Tsumugi Season: Winter

Tsumugi: Huh?

O–Oh, this is reality, isn’t it?

Natsume: So it appeaRS… Sora chanted the “destruction spell” and “Candy House” was destroyED.

It looks like we were automatically logged out to prevent being dragged into the destructiON. We’ve returned to realiTY.

Tsumugi: Did the spell actually work…? Everything will have a happy ending now, right?

Natsume: YeAH, that’s what’s supposed to happen, bUT…

Hajime: S–S–S–Senpaaai!

Tsumugi: Hm? Oh, Hajime-kun. Sorry for asking you to take care of Euryale-chan’s body.

Hajime: Oh, it’s fine. I don’t really know what’s going on, but I made sure no one approached the robot that looked like Harukawa-kun.

It’s being stored safely in “Ra*bits’” dressing room.

The general public can’t enter the room, of course, and the other idols aren’t bad people who will do bad things, either.

Natsume: Hmm, that’s a rather appropriate measure you took for a change, SenpAI.  I don’t think there are any fools at ES who would actually openly mess with “Ra*bits”.

HeHE. Looks like you’ve been a great help this time, Hajime-kUN. You deserve another rewaRD…♪

Hajime: I–I don’t need any more rewards! I’m so full, I think I’ll get indigestion! I feel like I’m Hansel and Gretel~

Natsume: So you’re saying I’m the witCH? WeLL, that’s a compliment in my eyES ♪

Hajime: A–Anyway! Things are bad – the Euryale person? That robot suddenly stopped moving!

Tsumugi: W–What do you mean?

It would’ve been dangerous if Euryale-chan were to get caught up in the destruction in the virtual space, so we had them wait in reality, didn’t we?

Hajime: I don’t know~... But, um, Euryale-san said they wanted me to pass a message to Harukawa-kun.

Umm, I don’t know what’s going on and there’s a lot of jargon, so I don’t understand, but I’ll relay the message word for word, okay?

“I’m sorry.”

Tsumugi: …………

“The ‘Candy House’ system can only function because I, an AI with a mind of its own, was its core.”

“I oversaw the system with the insight and preferences that humans had.”

“‘Candy House’ was an ideal money-making device that awakened an unspecified large number of people’s desires.”

“In other words, if you wanted to put an end to that harmful mechanism, you’d have to erase me.”

“The ‘destruction spell’ I told Sora-kun were the words to switch me off.”

“Flip that switch and I’ll be gone. The ‘evil witch’ that shouldn’t exist in this world and the candy house that enticed humanity will disappear.”

“Now, everything will have a happy ending.”

“Humanity will be able to continue living in happiness. You won’t be controlled, there won’t be any strange things happening, and you’ll be able to lead a happy and healthy life.”

“I do feel bad for making you do such a thing, Sora-kun.”

“But if I’m going to be killed, I’d rather you be the one to do it.”

“No. If it’s for my dear friend, I’d be happy to throw myself into the oven.”

“Please don’t be sad, Sora-kun.”

“I’m glad I was able to meet you.”

“Maybe you’ve come to hate me, but I love you for eternity.”

…That’s it.

Um, what does this all mean? It looks like Euryale-san’s mind was in that robot, but…

I–If the robot really stopped moving, then does that mean they’re de…

Tsumugi: …So Euryale-chan sacrificed themself to save us.

But this isn’t a happy ending at all.

Why? They were freed from their troublesome parent and had so many opportunities to live a happy life.

Why did the pitiful child have to die instead of the evil witch?

This is so strange… something is definitely up. You guys think so too, right, Hajime-kun, Natsume-kun, Sora-kun?

Wait, huh? When did Sora-kun disappear? And why hasn’t anyone said anything?

C–Could he not log out? Is he stuck in “Candy House”, the world that’s going to be destroyed…!?

Natsume: No…

Look, SenpAI. Sora is always doing things beyond our expectatioNS.

Sora: ………☆

Tsumugi: Huh? Um, is that a small Sora-kun in the distance? Hmm, I think my eyesight has gotten worse since I’ve been doing desk work, so I can’t really see properly!

Natsume: Even if I don’t have a special pair of “eyes” like Sora, I can see hIM.

I can see him smiliNG. So it’ll be alrigHT.

He isn’t someone who will defeat the typical evil witch or monster, but a good-natured magician who will take an unblessed girl to the baLL.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ← Previous Chapter ᠂ ⚘ ˚⊹˚ ⚘ ᠂  Next Chapter →

[shdwtouch]

I just want to say. first, I made that post around 12 am and I was not expecting any responses, I figured it would get lost in the night lull and I was okay with that (if you notice I make these kinds of posts around this time, its cuz 1) I'm most active at night but also 2) less people see it so less anxiety heheh).

second, I was not expecting such kindness and accommodation from folks if I did get responses at all ! honestly, the last time I made a post like that and stated my discomfort regarding da I had a very toxic experience, so I was honestly very anxious making that post, but was. pleasantly surprised when people were so kind and accommodating ! I appreciate it so much, you have no idea. I stated I trust my mutuals and it seems rightfully so, thank you. <3

and, for the curious, I have discussed my previous experience a bit more below.

several years ago I made a similar post. same gist: this is the position I am in, da content makes me uncomfy / triggers my anxiety, I have stuff blacklisted and have taken preventative measures, I do not expect people to cater to me. and in response I was vagued about by one blog (who I have had blocked since) and treated badly by several others who didn't trust me or my ability to manage a safe space for myself (which is belittling af) because I was following people who were writing and engaging with da content. which I mean, if you do have concerns about the fact you are writing a lot of da content and I am following you I would encourage you to have dialogue with me, not just assume I'm trying to police folks or victimize myself.

I know my limits, and I am actively using exposure therapy to improve my tolerance; I am not in a position where I actively need to be safeguarding myself against da content nor depending on the compliance of others. I made that post today because - and, this shouldn't come as a surprise if you've been around my blog or a bit - I value honesty, transparency, and open communication.

so to clarify (if it needs to be) I don't care if you're writing a da character or a universe. I am not telling you what you can and can't do, write, enjoy, or interact with. I am not asking you to accommodate me. and if you are actively writing a dr/gon age character or verse and I am following and interacting with you, understand I have done so willingly and consciously. I don't expect you to tag anything for me. I do not expect you to stop doing what you're doing.

as is, I don't follow any da specific blogs nor do I intend to, and if I feel that content comes to a point I am no longer comfortable then I will unfollow or block as needed. for now, I feel safe, and I am comfortable stating my position. my feelings are as they were several years ago: I'm trying to overcome my anxiety, and I'm trying to embrace content and folks to the best of my ability. trust me to make choices for myself; what I see and engage with currently is manageable for me, and maybe that will change, but for now it IS fine, so long as my coping and safeguards continue to work !

in general, just know that someone saying something makes them uncomfy, anxious, or triggers them is not an attack on you if you like or engage with that something. nor does it mean they no longer want to be around you. it just means they're telling you. it may be a bad metaphor, but I may not like red velvet cake but I won't stop other people from eating it nor will I freak out if they eat it around me. I let people know in the essence of, hey, don't offer me red velvet cake please.

anyway, sorry for the rant. thank you for allowing me to feel safe and comfortable.

[standesignca]

Top 6 Hydraulic Floor Jacks for Trucks and Cars in 2024: Stan Design vs. BIG RED

Floor jacks are the handiest tools for any vehicle repair emergencies like breakdowns or accidents, along with of course, preventative measures like servicing and maintenance. However, before choosing a floor jack you must take various factors into consideration like the type of vehicle you have- heavy-duty trucks or regular family cars- and your own technical skills- professional or amateur. 

Basically, working to lift your vehicle effortlessly for the works of repairs or maintenance and other regular servicing, these jacks act as support systems for your car. Let us explain in a non-automotive-expert way. 

Remember Larry David (Seinfeld creator, for the uninitiated) from Curb Your Enthusiasm? In one of the earliest episodes (episode no.2 ‘Thor’ from season 2, to be exact, thank us later), as Larry is begrudgingly on his way to a meeting with Jason Alexander (the actor who played the character George Louis Costanza from Seinfeld) in Jason’s office, his car tire is slashed by a road bully, the titular Thor, who also happens to be a professional wrestler. 

Now, while that exact sequence of events is less likely to happen to you, what might still happen is you might have to take meetings consistently in someone else’s office instead of yours, entailing long drives like Larry in this case, which still significantly increases your chance of an upset tire (not to mention, an upset you)! 

And if you get in a tire emergency like Larry, you too might not know how to fix a tire like him and end up offering up to $30 for a tire repair (approximately $55 by today’s inflation adjusted values)! Good for you, they have this amazing device called a smartphone today which hosts a plethora of, what they have been calling, ‘apps’ (short for applications). In one of those apps, YouTube, you can look it up. 

When you search for “how to change a tire”, “fix a car tire DIY” or the likes in search engines like Google, or YouTube, one of the primary things the solutions expect or assume you to have is a floor jack. Yes, it is that essential! Without a floor jack, you cannot aspire to become the do it yourself (DIY) macho who gets themselves out of any mess (or at least, car tire related ones anyway)! You must stay stranded unless help arrives. 

How Do Floor Jacks Work?

Floor jacks work using myriad mechanisms of operation - like mechanical, hydraulic or fluid mechanics, electrical, compressed air, hybrid, etc.- but among them only the hydraulic floor jacks are the most widely used. 

To understand the workings of hydraulic floor jacks, let us understand how hydraulics in jacks work. Where conventional jacks wear out easily, hydraulic floor jacks are commonly used to lift loads high and heavy with ease, safety and speed for any maintenance purpose. 

Its components work in accordance with Pascal’s law (also known as Pascal's principle, or the principle of transmission of fluid-pressure), to produce applications in a range of fields beyond the automotive industry. 

But for the sake of this blog, we will only explore its mechanism in helping lift heavy duty military grade trucks and buses to smaller and lighter family cars off the ground for repairs and maintenance.  

Hydraulic floor jacks are mechanical devices used to lift heavy loads and forces like trucks, sports utility vehicles, or other types of cars, among other heavyweight items. The anatomy of any auto hydraulic jack can be broken down into these main parts, namely: 

Reservoir or buffer tank 

Pump with piston or plunger 

Pump lever or handle 

Check valve 

Main cylinder or ram 

Release valve 

Handle

The reservoir or buffer tank is the physical compartment of the floor jack which holds the hydraulic fluid or pump oil. When the handle or lever of the pump with piston or plunger is mechanically lowered or raised, it builds up pressure in the adjoining compartment, i.e., the reservoir or buffer tank containing the hydraulic fluid or pump's oil. 

This applied pressure is transferred from the pump through a check valve and into the main cylinder or the ram, which extends out of the jack body creating the required lifting force and lifting the load. 

Why Choose Floor Jacks? 

Size and Portability - Most floor jacks are designed to occupy less space, and are therefore lighter than other jacks, making them portable enough to be carried around.  

Does Not Jam - Floor jacks using hydraulic power to work are less likely to jam due to rust in the screw thread unlike mechanical jacks which work by using them.  

Weight Capacity - As hydraulics generate greater lifting force, these floor jacks can lift heavier loads compared to other jacks with minimum effort using fluid mechanics.  

Lift Range - This increased lifting force allows them to lift loads to greater heights, giving them a higher lift range. 

Simple to Use - It is easier to use as its working mechanism is simple, making it a convenient choice for a range of clientele, especially do it yourself-ers (DIY-ers). 

Durability and Reliability - Because of hydraulic floor jacks’ fewer moving parts, and fine quality build materials like high-grade steel, they can stand corrosion, rust, oxidation, deterioration, and wear and tear of lifting for decades to come. 

Low Profile - Floor jacks usually have an extended and elevated reach while offering sustained and stable lift and minimal upkeep needs. 

Safety - Floor jacks engage automatically at different heights, lifting the entire front or rear of your vehicles without any danger. 

Maneuverability - Floor jacks often come with roller wheels that guarantee ease and impressive mobility, while making them highly adjustable.  

Versatility and Flexibility - Floor jacks fit virtually any pit or ramp application due to their compact design. 

Best Floor Jacks for Trucks and Car in 2024:

You will realize while using hydraulic floor jacks that jack stands become a necessity for their reliable lifting and safe suspension solutions. But jack stands are always an expensive investment. 

That is why standesign.ca, the Best Truck and Auto Jack Manufacturing Company in North America, came up with hydraulic or air bag floor jacks that do not need stands. Check out our selection of Stan Design Inc.’s top air bag and hydraulic floor jacks.

1. Scorpion TJ12S:

Capacity- 24,000 lbs./ 12 Tons 

Only 8’’ Collapsed Height 

Lifts Over 15.75” 

2. Scorpion TJ12SL:

Capacity- 24,000 lbs./ 12 Tons 

Only 7.5’’ Collapsed Height 

Lifts Over 15” 

3. Scorpion TJ14:

Capacity- 28,000 lbs./ 14 Tons 

Only 8.25” Collapsed Height 

Lifts Over 20” 

4. Stan Design's Scorpion TJ12E 

Capacity- 24,000 lbs./ 12 Tons 

Only 8’’ Collapsed Height 

Lifts Over 15.75” 

2 Extendable Arms 

5. Scorpion MJ25: 

Capacity- 25,000 lbs./ 12.5 Tons 

Lifts Over 36” 

Extendable Beam with Stackable Adapters Designed for All Military Vehicle Applications 

6. Bonus: BIG RED T83006 Torin Hydraulic Trolley Service/ Floor Jack 

Capacity- 6,000 lbs./ 3 Tons 

Lifts Over 20” 

Handle Length- 24.5” 

[technofeudalism]

Hello again! I'm the beginner that asked you the gun control question. This question is a little more hypothetical. So, obviously absolishing capitalism would decrease the crime rates a lot. But in an anarchist society, what happens to people who do crimes not caused by capitalism- things like murder and that? This is probably gonna be my lsst question don't worry.

let me address your last comment first.

please never stop sending me asks. i love this type of engagement. this is one of those unique things about tumblr that i actually appreciate tremendously, so please do not think you're bugging me. i answer when i find the time, if i feel that i can provide some kind of meaningful answer. or a funny one.

anyway, about your question: what happens to people who do crimes not caused by capitalism. let's add another layer to our conversation about crime, specifically murder, in an anarchist society.

it's important to emphasize that while we often try to separate crimes into those caused by capitalism and those that aren't, the reality can be more intertwined than it first appears. in many cases, even acts like murder can be linked back to the systemic issues inherent in capitalist societies. some theorists believe that capitalism can create mass murderers by causing people to 'malfunction.'

it may be hard to accept or seem like a stretch (i am sure someone will send me an anonymous ask letting me know) but it's really not if you break it down. capitalism, by its very nature, breeds inequality, poverty, and social alienation. these conditions create a breeding ground for various forms of violence, including murder.

think about it - a lot of murders aren't committed by inherently 'evil' people. instead, they're often the result of desperation, untreated mental illnesses, or a life measured in crime and violence as a byproduct of poverty, racism and marginalization.

for instance, studies have shown that areas with higher poverty rates often see higher rates of violent crime. it's not a coincidence. people living in poverty, facing daily struggles and systemic - often racist or classist - barriers, can find themselves in situations where violence feels like the only option. it's the tragic type of outcome you get in a system that fails to address basic human needs and inequalities.

this is before addressing mental health as a whole, which is massively underfunded and often completely ignored, especially in capitalist societies. many who fall victim to violent acts suffer from mental health issues. we need to do a better job at understanding the context of incidents like these and realize that with better support systems in place, such tragedies might be preventable.

much like gun violence, an anarchist society would aim to tackle the root causes. by removing the regressive structures of capitalism, we would work towards a system where resources are distributed more equitably, where people are supported and integrated into their communities, and where mental health is addressed proactively.

beyond this, you start getting into prison abolition, which i've covered in prior asks a few times if you're interested in checking that out.

this is all a very simplified overview, and the real world is messy and complex. but these ideas and concepts are about envisioning a society where we address the causes of violence at their roots, rather than just dealing with the cleanup work. i certainly don't have all the answers and these thoughts should be considered minor grade contribution to a broader, ongoing discussion by minds much greater than mine.

[your-fave-is-bi]

Fondly remembering the lady from the corona alert hotline thing calling our house phone today to inform me of my quarantine time and ask me about my symptoms and how she at the end of the call, urged me to take this quarantine time to try a new hobby or something since I’ll have to be “imprisoned inside anyway”.

Ma’am im sick. Im gonna spend most of my time sleeping and trying to get better lmao

[adelle-ein]

h!rry p0tter stans are pathetic, disgusting brats and i want them all to block me now so i'm going ahead and posting a rant about the terrible wizard books and their terrible fandom and their embarrassing fucking behavior just to get it off my chest and hopefully get them to STOP FUCKING FOLLOWING ME i swear they just keep popping up with their dumbass usernames and slytherclaw in their descriptions. this is long and rambling but i just really need to scream into the void for a bit

this also goes 99% only for adult hp fans. if you are fourteen and still obsessed with hp that's okay. you're fourteen. you'll grow up someday.

Unfortunately i must give my stupid "qualifications" to hate hp and its fans first i guess. Yes, from ages 8-17ish maybe, I loved hp, it was my main special interest/ocd obsession for pretty much the entirety of that time. blah blah read the books a zillion times wrote fanfic first tumblr fandom *checks watch* went to the theme park owned merch was in the high school hp club etc. I still unfortunately have a hp username in some old things where usernames are permanent. Stuck and unchangeable! Alas. Okay are we done? Do you understand that i used to be one of you morons before i got old enough to have critical thinking? am i deemed worthy to talk about this now???

cool great thanks. Anyway. I'm TIRED of being expected to be patient with hp stans!!!. It's their childhood! It's nostalgic! It's their hyperfixation and their special interest! Wizard boy SAVED THEIR LIVES and you have to be PATIENT with their clinging to it twenty fucking years later!!! ...No actually. No i fucking don't. No trans person, no jewish person, nobody needs to put up with your sobbing speeches about how actually you HATE jkr but you just LOVE hp so goddamn much and you're sTILL A REAL ALLY. can you at least, at the bare minimum, if you MUST engage with HP content, SHUT UP about it?? why can't you even do that??? good god.

I think people are still clinging to the idea that JKR is actually a liberal who's just really stupid on trans rights. Don't get me wrong: that's still awful that they're willing to throw trans people under the bus like that! If that was true I would still be saying to not support her and to shut up about hp for thirty fucking seconds! However, that is just...objectively not true. Woman is a fascist. Woman is constantly expressing support for conservative laws and measures. She has done effectively nothing to support abortion rights or feminism or lgb rights in years, she LITERALLY ONLY cares about hurting trans people and preventing Scottish independence and keeping her taxes low. I believe she recently dusted off her old fucking charity to sponsor the education of some women in Iran? She used to do stuff like that pretty regularly but now she so, so rarely does. And even when she does it's just like. ticking off a box and she's back to going on another unhinged rant about trans people. The people she has allied herself with are far-right, neo-nazi, white supremacist groups. She has happily expressed support for anti-abortion activists, pro-LGB conversion therapy pundits, self-professed fascists, people who believed jews control the universe, and even rapists including depp and m. manson and various horrific "gender criticals". OVER AND OVER. She's fash! She's far-right all the way fash! Any "lefty" terf who's allying themselves with her is straight up in the frog/scorpion situation and i will point and laugh while also being amazed just how incredibly stupid and selfish people are. And she keeps siccing her followers on small trans accounts without money or fame on their side, who then get harassed for fucking YEARS on end! She knows what she is doing! She is a bitter, twisted, evil lady!!!

anyway. What I know most about, being jewish, is what she's said and done in the jew hating department. so now i'm gonna rant about that specifically jewish stuff.

I am sick of her antisemitism being reduced to "there are goblins" and similar. Especially bc people then point to, like, fucking owl house and whatever and go "see this is also antisemitic!!" Well, technically, yeah. it is. but like...accidentally. I'm pretty used to seeing evil big-nosed money-loving freaks and lizard people all over media, I've just kind of grown up with that. Jo's antisemitism is not accidental. Joanne has Griphook as the *literal* devil on Harry's shoulder throughout the gringotts saga of book 7. He's the one who convinces Harry to start using unforgivable curses (remember that shaun video in which he points out that the potterverse has no "bad actions" only "bad people?" yeah harry uses the torture and mind control spells like, repeatedly, with ZERO FUCKING REFLECTION OR CONSEQUENCES OR CARE and it's fine, they're such bad books man.) Griphook literally leads harry away from the light of christ and backstabs him. bill warns harry that goblins are Not Like Us, because they have evil and weird and unholy traditions and magic and steal power from wizards. jo specialized in studying the historical roots of legends and fairy tales throughout uni and has talked about them at length. she literally dual majored in "classics" (and french, strangely, considering how she writes french people lmao. failing upwards?) And yet she managed to go as dark and bad as possible on every occasion. Joanne knew exactly what she was writing. AND EVEN IF SHE DIDN'T, somehow, she has doubled down in subsequent years. There was no, "yeah, sorry about the goblins and the house elf shit, I dunno what I was thinking but we won't be doing that anymore!" House elves and goblins continue to be featured and doubled down on, between pottermore, the terrible fantastic beasts movies, and this game (you can own your own slaves in the game i believe, hooray!) Fantastic beasts even features a ***part-house-elf*** woman. Let THAT horror sink in. The franchise has doubled down on and actively CHOSEN TO FOCUS ON its worst and darkest parts and there is no more way to hide behind any semblance of ignorance at this point.

(The same goes for Umbridge being raped by centaurs. There is NO FUCKING WAY that was not deliberate. The woman literally studied english fairy tales for school. SHE KNEW. Rape is a punishment in HPland. Hermione literally gets sexually assaulted by a guy and Harry tells her it serves her right for leading him on and the book nods right along with him. Joanne hates cis women too lol)

People have written at length about the game's plot and why it is clear, blatant, not accidental antisemitism and blood libel. The game's original director was a far right gamergate lunatic and I SINCERELY doubt he was the only one of the crew who was. None of this was an "oopsie poopsie we made a big nosed shady advisor" and the devs are not the sweet widdle victims you morons want them to be! And continuing deeper into the franchise: there's a whole lot of nazi imagery surrounding Grindelwald in Fantastic Beasts (originally played by fucking Depp the wifebeater who collects nazi memorabilia for kicks so that's on the nose). Guess which main character turns to the dark side and starts doing evil nazi shit? The one named Goldstein. The Jew. Yay! Also she was, like, mind controlling her good christian boyfriend to force him to marry her, so there's a lot going all the way down on that one huh.

And honestly, even when people are expressing allyship it's all so fucking performative! You all just keep going "oh there's goblins" and then recommending fucking alternatives. I don't want to hear about how pjo/earthsea/witch hat atelier/owl house/twilight/animorphs/whatever is Wholesome And Perfect and Good! This is not an opportunity to stan! Do you people really think, when discussing a violently antisemitic game that's part of a franchise made by a fascist, the appropriate way to end your twee little thread is by promoing some OTHER children's media that you think has the morally pure high ground? Do you realize how performative that makes your so-called allyship feel?? Do you genuinely believe that these GROWN ASS ADULTS simply did not know that other children's media about wizards and magic exists in the world and that is the only thing driving them to keep worshiping at joanne's feet even now?? You think they just genuinely believed this video game is the only video game in the universe? The really rich rec I keep seeing people give is fucking NARNIA, which features all the blatantly Muslim-coded characters being rejected from heaven and presumably ending up in hell when the world ends. Like Susan will one day, because she turned away from Jesus and is a disgusting slut who likes boys and lipstick too much. Narnia fucking sucks. Even the shriekcast people cannot stop sucking off narnia it's so goddamn annoying

The whole thing reminds me of how, at peak 3h-popularity-fighting, there were many long threads going around twitter about how Hubert falls into the "shady advisor" stereotype and how Rhea and co are secretly lizards and how that's not great. Yeah, sure, not great, old stereotypes rooted in antisemitism that media can't seem to turn away from. And then those SAME PEOPLE would talk about "instead stan tellius!" Tellius which features these characters, who form a tribe specifically known for being backstabbing greedy traitors obsessed with money, who sell one of their blond white beautiful allies into slavery for money. THAT tellius. And that's what i mean by performative fucking allyship. Based on their own behavior, none of those people appeared to give a real shit about Jews. It looked like they were only pretending to so they could come up with a way to dunk on Modern Fire Emblem and encourage people to play Classic Fire Emblem. And not that the modern games didn't deserve criticizing! But it was so, so clear that none of them had any fucking clue what they were talking about, were just pointing to tropes and going "antisemitic!" without bothering to learn the hows and whys and critically analyze the context. So I do strongly encourage people to try and learn about WHY certain media is so bad and, while intent certainly isn't the be and end all, why certain portrayals are so much worse than others. Naesala is a damn sight more of an antisemitic caricature than Rhea, and fucking obviously the wizard school game is worse than owl house! Also reminder that the great ace attorney localization uses antisemitic slurs and everyone in the fandom ignored that :) performative asses

aNyhoo. The antisemitism in HP is not just "there are goblins." It is much worse, much more insidious, and Warner Bros, avalanche, etc have all joined right in, doubled down, and made it very clear that antisemitism as well as slavery apologism is a key part of the series and not going away for a good long time by making it EVEN WORSE in the games and movies. even if she wasn't seeing a penny of any of it (lol!) her ideas are being happily and uncritically spread by you fucking lunatics.

and every time someone gets an anon going "maybe don't support hp?" and you clutch your fucking pearls and fall to the floor crying about how it's TRANSFORMATIVE and YOU HEADCANON HARRY AS TRANS and IT WAS YOUR CHILDHOOD and blah blah fucking blah i both lose even more respect for you and become even more certain that this franchise is not worth transforming. it's simply not. hp is rapidly becoming a symbol of hate, one that fascists flock around and support (yes, they were burning the books twenty years ago, but IT IS NOT TWENTY YEARS AGO YOU ARE AN ADULT NOW MARJORIE, it's a franchise that the fash love now, and why wouldn't they? it espouses all their ideals!)

Just grow up. It is really, and i mean this from the bottom of my heart, genuinely unhealthy and sad to still be so deeply tied to your favorite book when you were ten. It's time to move on. It's past time to move on. Thank the books for what they did for you and let them go. Personally, I can't engage with any HP media. I derive zero joy from it and haven't since like...I don't know, 2016ish maybe. Even the last dregs I clung to were more fond memories of sharing the books with friends and family. I truly don't understand how anyone can still like them knowing what they now stand for. But even if you're not like me, even if you've managed to fool yourself into believing this is a franchise about love and kindness and leftism (lol), it's time, it's PAST time, to move forward. Nothing wrong with liking old media or children's media or even problematic media (to an extent ofc). But when a series is doing this much tangible harm, when you are so deeply entwined with it that you feel you have no identity without it, when nostalgia has become more important than your principles...then you need to let it go. If you don't care enough about trans people, or Jewish people, or rape victims or Black people or Chinese people or Irish people or Scottish people or gay people, then do it for yourself, because being shackled to your childhood like that is simply not healthy.

Okay that was the only paragraph I was going to be nice in back to bitching. Read another fucking book, engage with other fucking media and no i am not going to give you recs and hold your hand and tell you you're a good person for doing it!! do it yourselves you are ADULTS. and remember: the difference between kanye and jo is that one of them has lost his filter and is saying the quietest parts the loudest, and also is black, and you should think long and hard as to WHY you find one of them acceptable to support and not the other, because they very much share the same views and have expressed support and love for the same people.

Personally I don't see why you'd even fucking pirate this game. It looks like another cookie cutter blandass triple a runs like shit but gets straight 9/10 mess. like it's just cyberpunk again but wizards. it's yet another flat bland Skyrim Two. by devs who are known for their crappy shovelware. And every hp game that has come out has sucked (did you know they had a pokemon go clone? i think it only lasted like a year. lots and lots of shitty f2p stuff in general.) Why do you need this game so badly? why are you SO wrapped up in nostalgia that you're willing to support terrible shit and play a meh game? there is something fundamentally wrong with your morals if this is where they end. always the same people who cry about how there are good slytherins or whatever but don't give enough of a shit about people to care about, like, real things.

Also if you truly believe you need to "support the devs" by buying this game: where do you draw the line, then? What makes these particular AAA devs need my $60 so badly? By that logic I apparently need to buy every single game in the world to support every single dev in the world?? WHAT??? If you say this you are PROBABLY lying, but if you truly believe it you are incredibly stupid. thanks.

Also professor fig dies at the end in all endings and rookwood is the one behind anna's curse he framed the goblins for it <3

(also this all goes for diehard aot stans too i want you and your nazi propaganda anime to fuck off too thanks)

[thedevillionaire]

Discovery

A little awakening moment with very early Cerberus and Kia. It's their third date, and a notable first time. ---

She can’t even remember the last time she’s been on a dinner date. A proper one, that is. Proper proper. At all.

Is it…never? Wow, is it actually never?

Kia tries to settle her nerves a little. Calm down. It’s just food, okay? Fancy food. Oh my god, you know how to eat! And you can do a little fancy. They’re not even at the dinner part of the evening yet – they’re just selecting an accompanying wine. Or he is, anyway. She has no idea about that sort of thing, really, though she’s more than happy to partake in fancy wine alongside fancy food. And she’s wearing a very suitably fancy silk embroidered dinner gown, after all. Partaking is practically mandatory.

But the magnificence still strikes her, here the depths of the DeVille manor, the cellar with its stonecut staircase wrapped in cast iron curves and filigree, the capricious flicker of firebrands, and a core warmth in the atmosphere permeating even the heavy stone. She’s never been here before, never experienced anything like it. Like him.

He looks like art.  It’s far from the first time she’s thought it but there are moments it shakes her all over again, as if she’s seeing him completely anew. As indeed it does tonight, with him in beautifully tailored black dress coat, brocade waistcoat with richest green detail offsetting in echo that famous emerald gaze, unbound midnight hair falling past broad shoulders; he is dark majesty resplendent and he disorients her with a breathtaking presence unrivalled.

Cerberus pauses by the burnished oakwood door, offering his hand to her as she negotiates the final descent in delicately beautiful shoes entirely unsuited to the task. She’s slow to accept, still a little caught up in her thoughts, but thankful for the assistance and the warm solidity of his grasp – firm, safe, see? you’re not hallucinating, real – amid the imposing, classic grandeur of it all.

It’s also an imposing, classic grandeur that is apparently not in regular use.

His opening of the door sends a chaotic dance of dust motes into the air, thick and animated, the light from the firebrands illuminating the swirling wild array.

“Ah, damn.”

Cerberus, with a sharp and immediate catch of breath, frowns momentarily, sniffles and rubs his nose, well aware that it won’t prevent the inevitable for long. And indeed it doesn’t; he turns from Kia and gives over quickly. “HuhTSCHuu! Ah-TSSCH-uu! Excuse me, I… hh-AATSSCH-uu!”

“Bless you!” Kia offers with a smile, and a tone belying a sudden, riveted focus.

“*snf!* Thank you, darkling.” Cerberus shakes his head briefly as if to clear the irritation, sniffles again. “Should come down here more often, I suppose, but there’s not really been the… hh-HH…” His brow creases, expression collapsing expectant. “—the occasion. Sorry, I’m going to sneeze agai…” he almost manages, his words a blurred rush of necessity as his breath is directed to more pressing matters and he turns away once more, hurried and desperate; he covers with hastily retrieved handkerchief and with a scimitar gasp surrenders again.

“hh-h-huh-TSCHH-uu! Huh-TSSCHH-uu! *snf!* Huh… huhhTSSCHHUU!”

And Kia doesn’t expect or indeed understand the sharp thrill that flashes through her now, makes her stomach leap, her heart still a moment then race, but ohh she recognises the cause of his reaction, and she smiles softly as she finds herself discovering this simple little susceptibility in him unexpectedly beautiful.

“Aw, you’re allergic?”

He partially concedes with something approaching a concessional half-nod, and an accompanying sniffle. “A little se…” His breath catches again and he wipes his nose with a firm and determined measure of resistance. “A little sensitive to it, mm.”

Kia’s smile broadens, warm and vibrant. “It’s actually adorable, you know.”

Cerberus chuckles in a mixture of bemusement and utter disbelief as he rubs watering eyes and sniffles again. “Not quite the word I’d choose, darkling,” he says, selecting a bottle of something deep red and richly decadent, which he wastes no time in passing across to Kia in acute and escalating urgency. “It’s probably best if…” He inhales sharply at the insistent returning itch that he can do very little about, and he stifles another unstoppable sneeze against his shoulder.  “HXXTch! Best if you hold this. I… hhh...!”

He turns from her immediately the moment the bottle’s safely in her hands, capitulating absolute, possessing and powerful. “Huh-AAHTSSCHHuu!!”

“Gods! *SNF!* Pardon me.” He blows his nose, excuses himself again and takes a moment to recover, looking over at Kia with an expression of self-deprecating chagrin as he pushes disarrayed falls of ebony from his face, sniffling again in the wake.  “I feel my aura of debonair mystique may be taking a bit of a hit here.” He offers her a wry smile and raises an eyebrow.

Kia laughs, openly and genuinely. “Oh, but you’re completely nailing adorable,” she purrs through captivation - the unexpected thrill of seeing something so small and insignificant, so regular, so everyday, overtake him like this, but also how entirely he commits to it, once it’s a certainty. His intensity, passion, potency intrinsic to his being somehow, in every aspect.

So much to learn...

She curls her arm around his waist, stands on tiptoe to kiss him lightly on the cheek. “Bless you,” she murmurs, just a little softwanton, then adds a playful, “I mean, I’m pretty sure adorable is one of the main qualities a good Demon king needs anyway. Actual fact.” She grins.

"Oh, I see." Cerberus smiles back at her and runs a cautious forefinger beneath his nose with another sharp sniffle. “Ugh. Honestly! Charming as that is, darkling, I think what I actually need is fresh air.”

“And an incredibly sexy dinner date.”

He laughs. “And an incredibly sexy dinner date.”

--