#i literally read the italian translation first

[liesmyth]

I sorta want to reread ALL the wheel of time books but my last full-series reread was in 2013 when I was but a babe, and I am mildly scared I’ll tarnish my beloved teenage memories

[deadghosy]

How Slytherin boys react to sister! Reader dating:

Warning: boyfriend house not specific, google translated Italian, protective brothers & stalking

Ft. Tom Riddle, Mattheo Riddle, Draco Malfoy, Theodore Nott, Lorenzo Berkshire.

The Riddle Brothers

“WHAT??” Mattheo yells as Draco had told him that you were dating Someone. The thing was that you haven’t told him first.

Why didn’t you tell him..cause now he’s frowning and venting to the oldest riddle that’s reading a book.

“TOM! Our baby sister is dating someone, but she hasn’t said a single thing…I swear what if the guys bad..”

“We could easily kill him. So why worry brother?” Tom says looking up. But it was clear that Tom was mad that you haven’t told him. You always tell him things, so to the point you haven’t told him made him a “little” angry.

Mattheo and Tom looked at each other and nodded as they left the Slytherin common room.

You were walking with your boyfriend when all of a sudden you felt eye burning in the back of your head. You turn around and there you see only mattheo because of course Tom is invisible.

“Mattheo…why didnt you turn invisible when clearly she’s glaring at you.”

“Tom, stfu.”

Draco Malfoy

Ima make your boyfriend here as potter cause it’s definitely gonna be funny.

Straight up gets so dramatic to his knees, screaming for someone to kill him as he sees you dating his enemy. How could you betray him?! Your big brother is devastated

After dinner, he drags you to the common room and becomes a mother hen as he lectures you about how “terrible” pottah is.

“He’s a terrible person! And a Gryffindor. End of presentation…got any questions.” Draco says with a raised up brow

“Yeah, only one. Can I go to sleep now…”

Theodore Nott

IM SORRY BUT HE’S GONNA PULL OUT THE ITALIAN

“Mi stai spezzando il cuore qui sorellina... non puoi uscire finché non sono morto...” (you’re breaking my heart here lil sis you can’t date til I’m dead)

“ALLORA COME CAZZO USCIREI? SONO SOLO UN’ORA IN RITARDO DOPO DI TE?” (Then how the fuck would I date I’m only a hour late after you)

I feel like he would do the hand gesture, 🤌 yeahhhh…..

During the months he would try to give you the birds and the bees talk when you obviously know what it is, and you’re running away from him.

Of course he won’t stalk you, he’s too much of a good brother to do that to you. So you are lucky

But one word that your boyfriend is hurting you verbally, physically, or emotionally. He’s hurting him 10 times bad.

Lorenzo Berkshire

“I wanna meet him.”

“WHY YOU LOOKIN AT ME LIKE THAT?!.”

His soft face turned serious when you told him you’re dating someone. Because you thought Lorenzo would react happy for you.

He’s literally acting like a father as he has the boyfriend in front of him, wand in hand as his smile was tight. “So, I heard your dating my sister. Why?”

Pulls out the “why do you wanna date my daughter/sister” card😭😭

If the boyfriend passes, he’s welcome. If not, find a better boyfriend.

[rjalker]

apparently a bunch more people are coming to the Flatland fandom / tags because of gravity falls so PSA:

Flatland: A Romance of Many Dimensions, is public domain. It belongs to everyone. You do not need to buy a physical copy to read it. It has no copyright. It belongs to everyone.

It is free to read online. There are free audiobooks.

Here's another masterpost

Here's a link to it on Project Gutenberg where you can read and download it in many formats:

Here's an amazing free audiobook on the internet archive:

Here's where you can read the 2024 translation into modern English on the internet archive:

there are some typos that I need to fix but. I have covid I'm not doing that right now.

You can also read this translation here on tumblr at @flatland-a-2024-translation

There's an audiobook version on youtube as well now.

___

Here’s an animation from 1965

Here’s a stop motion film from 1982 in Italian with English subtitles

Here’s an animation from 2006

___

I do not recommend watching the free 2007 Flatland film which you can find on youtube until you've read or listened to the book unless you want to be really confused. The movie is an absurdist comedy. The book is a political satire. The movie is better appreciated after you've already read/listened to the book.

It also has a lot of flashing lights and motion-sickness inducing spinning. The timestamps for those can be found here. Please be careful if you have photosensitivity.

do not spend money on Flatland until you already know you like it. you do not need to spend money at all. It's public domain. it belongs to all of us.

Very important edit: The creator of the 2007 film that's free on youtube, Ladd Ehlinger is an extremely racist and misogynistic conservative. He made a political ad so blatantly racist and sexist that youtube has literally resstricted it, so that you can't share the link outside the site. Simply google his name and you will see dozens upon dozens of articles about how bigoted he is.,

Please be aware of what kind of person made that movie when you watch it. His bigotry is baked into the movie, and is why he refused to actually do anything with the original political commentary from the book.

You are not a bad person if you already watched the movie and enjoyed it, but you do need to be aware of what kind of person made it and how that affected the movie, and make sure others are warned.

[da-rulah]

Confessional - Cardinal Copia x F!Reader [Part 3]

Summary: At the request of Papa Emeritus III, you return to your duties around the Ministry, but when he reminds you of your absence from confessional in the past month, he asks you to return to where it all started...

Rating: Explicit, 18+

Word Count: 12k (lol wtf sorry guys this one ran away from me...)

Warnings: Pillow Humping, cunnilingus, panty-sniffing kink (once again, the glove returns...), honestly Copia just gets more pathetic in this part, vaginal fingering, premature ejaculation, cum eating, unprotected sex, rough sex, creampie, dirty talk (a lot of it...), lots of feelings, idiots to lovers

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3

ALSO AVAILABLE ON AO3

A/N: Guys... thank you all SO MUCH. The love for this fic has been bigger than I ever thought, and genuinely my heart is so full whenever I get a comment, a reblog, a message about it. I hope this is worth the wait, I know it's literally double the length of the other chapters but I really wanted you to enjoy and immerse yourself - there needed to be a decent enough pay-off after all the pining and angst 😂 Special thanks to @her-satanic-wiles for the beta reading and encouragement, and to @adinferix for their help with the Italian translation!

Copia had sworn to himself that he wouldn’t think of you today. Last night had been the last time. No, really.... He swore it. The moment he decided? When he’d woken up, face down in his pillows – after a night of self-indulgence that included another long-since dirtied and discarded pillow... - and realised that there was something stuck to his face.  

Your glove.     It had taken at least 25 minutes for the red imprint of that floral pattern to fade away from the pale skin across his cheek, and he’d been mortified - especially when brushing his teeth, having to stare at himself in the mirror with that pattern taunting him. He may as well have written “PERVERT” in sharpie across his cheek instead, for all the shame it brought him. 

That pattern was the reason for the Cardinal’s tardiness to his seminar that day, the man scurrying down the halls and checking his reflection in any and every passing surface possible to be sure that there was no longer an intrusive red flower burned into his pale skin.  

When he reached his classroom, everyone had taken to their seats already, some chattering away with each other as they waited, others impatiently tapping their feet or pencils with each passing second. Copia slunk into the classroom, muttering apologies with his eyes trained on the floor to avoid the death glares of the siblings who took their studies just a touch too seriously.  

Without further ado, the Cardinal began to make some notes on the chalkboard at the front of the classroom. The chalk squeaked against the board, some of the siblings in the room whining incredulously at the sound and the chatter ceasing as if he’d done it deliberately to shush them.  

“Okie dokie, we will look today to focus on Latin pronunciation, and-” the Cardinal froze as he turned back to the class, eyes settling on a figure in the back corner.  

He must have been dreaming...   

There you sat, in your most conservative habit possible – purposefully changing after your meeting with Terzo that morning, your guilt for derailing the Cardinal in the confessional booth forcing you out of your impressive ensemble meant to manipulate Papa. 

Coming to Copia’s seminar was not a choice; you just desperately didn’t want Papa to bring Sister Imperator into this or get yourself in any more trouble. Terzo had spared you a punishment and you weren’t to take this for granted. So, you’d made sure you arrived with a group of other siblings, pushing through into the seminar room and plonking yourself in the very back corner in the hope he wouldn’t see you. 

But of course, he saw you. As if his body was magnetically drawn towards you, you were the first he laid his eyes on.  

You avoided his gaze, scribbling something down on the paper in front of you to look busy. You hadn’t missed his cut off sentence as his eyes settled on you, nor the lingering silence as you scribbled.  

‘Say something, Cardinal... Please say something. I can’t bear this...’ you thought, the seconds ticking by.  

“Mi dispiace (I’m sorry), I lost my train of thought for a moment. Pronunciation, sì, that’s where we were. Okay...” he shook his head, returning his attention to the class. He couldn’t focus on you now, couldn’t jeopardise himself that way. One wrong move, and you may disappear for another four weeks, or worse, and Satanas, he’d never forgive himself. That was not the kind of hell he wished to endure.  

Throughout the seminar, he would steal quick glances in your direction, as if making sure you were indeed still there, that you were real. Trying to find you before now had been like trying to catch smoke... downright impossible. His guilt gnawed at him like an insect burrowing into his skin, shame creeping over him each time he saw you staring down at your page.  

You didn’t want to be here, that much was clear to him. He’d made you uncomfortable, avoiding him... It stung him more than it should. 

“I... I think we’re done for today, classe (class) . Good job, molto bene (very good),” he fussed over the book on his desk as the class rose from their seats, gathering their things and heading for the door. In a moment of what he would describe as idiocy, he called out, “Uh, Sorella ______? Could I just...”  

But you were gone.   

Copia felt like a moron, embarrassed and pining over you as he watched you leave so quickly, quite obviously running from him. All he wanted to do was to apologise, to make you feel like you didn’t have to hide from him anymore. But you were that repulsed by him that you fled at the first chance you could.  

He huffed, dropping into his chair at his desk as the room emptied. He thought it over for a moment – you didn’t want to be in his class, and yet you came anyway. Why?  

Terzo... He had noticed your absence, questioned the Cardinal over it... Perhaps he’d told you to return to your duties, punished you...   

And that was all his fault. He’d upset you so much you’d avoided your duties, hidden yourself away. You were so repulsed by him that you couldn’t even look at him anymore. His sweet, most innocent Sorella…  

The Sorella who used to smile at him in the hallways, no matter who she was walking with.   

The Sorella who never missed a seminar he was hosting.   

The Sorella who only ever confessed on a Thursday, during his duty.   

The Sorella who kept stealing glances at him as his brothers performed Black Mass.  

Not anymore.  

How silly of him to think there was ever any chance you might not hate him. How silly of him to think you might actually be attracted to him, that you could be at all interested in the blithering idiot Cardinale who still reads Beano comics and relaxes with a Juicebox and video games at the end of the working week.  

Copia was always brushed to the side, never good enough for a woman as wonderful as you, as beautiful as you.  

How daft he felt, and how sick he felt knowing how he had defiled your trust – and continued to do so every. fucking. night. Behind your back, in the shame of his private quarters. 

Perverted old Cardinale Copia...  

Those moans, oh how he could write a symphony with those moans. They sounded so visceral and somehow so melodic rolling from your tongue as his rolled against your heat. And Sathanas, the taste... he devoured that sweetness like it was his last meal on Death Row. Your hands clutching his hair scraped their nails against his scalp and he growled into your mound with a deep vibration that drew more sweet, sweet moans from your lips.   

With two gloved fingers, he breached your walls and with expert precision, he found the spot only you had found yourself – no previous lovers ever able to satiate you like he could. You were his.   

His his his.  

Even through the leather, he could feel your warmth on his fingers, hear the hungry slurps of your pussy drawing him back in over and over with every pump of his fingers inside you.   

“Cardinal... Cardinal....” you chanted like a mantra, eyes screwed shut and breath laboured as he drew you closer and closer to an end, more of your juices seeping out and dripping onto his eagerly lapping tongue, until...  

Until...  

Sweat beaded on Copia’s forehead as his eyes shot open, his chest rising and falling dramatically as he lay in bed, his skin hot to the touch in the dark around him. His head snapped to the side, seeing the glowing red of his digital alarm clock reading 3:09am.  

He rubbed at his paintless eyes, groaning into the dark at the sticky feeling all over his body, the sweat now cooling in the night air and chilling him.  

Just a fucking dream.   

He could still taste you, still feel you, still hear you... How could he stop this? How would he ever be able to move on from this fucking chokehold you had on him? Does time heal all wounds?     Copia sure hoped so.  

In the dark, he felt the familiar need in his groin – a stiffness he wouldn’t be able to shake so easily. He didn’t want to, not again. Already he felt like a total degenerate, jacking off to the smell of your used glove a nightly occurrence. But now he was dreaming of you?  

With reluctance, he shifted the sheets and let his naked form hit the cold air around him, thick cock standing to attention. He threw an arm over his eyes, his other reaching down until he could lazily stroke the shaft of his shame a few times.  

Here we go again, he thought to himself in disgust.  

But disgust wasn’t enough to quell the rising lust he felt, and his hand began to pump his length with vigour as he recounted the details of the dream that woke him.  

He whimpered into the night, the heavy arm across his eyes shielding himself from his own depravity only getting heavier. His hips started to roll against the mattress, meeting his fist over and over. He couldn’t take this, he wanted so badly to bury himself, to grind down, to feel pressure...   

He sat upright, reaching behind him for one of the silk pillows he lay on before. He got up onto his knees, folding the pillow in two to create a crease and pushed it into his mattress, lining his hips up with it.   

And like the dirty old cardinal he was, he pushed his cock into the crease, groaning into a tight fist as he did.  

He leaned his weight over onto the hand pinning the pillow down and began to roll his hips into the softness, his eyes squeezing shut in pleasure as images of you flashed in his mind. That dream, it had felt so... so real? As if he could taste you still, smell you still... 

And he could, of course, once his hand had snaked under the remaining pillows to retrieve that damned glove he was far too lazy to hide properly these days. He humped the pillow he buried his cock into like a horny teenager, holding that glove against his nose and mouth as he got faster and faster, inhaling.  

“Ohhh, cazzo... (fuck),” he groaned, picturing you beneath him, his cock pistoning in and out of you. How good you’d feel beneath him, how slick, and wet, and warm you’d be for him. The noises from the confessional booth still haunted him, ricocheting off the inside of his skull as he buried himself over and over.   

“Sorella... Hmmm,” he hummed, “______, merda (shit).” His hips stuttered, the silk dampened with precum giving just enough friction... He wished it was you so badly, your pussy enveloping him. He craved it, like he couldn’t bear to go on without having you, even if it were just once.  

He bit his lip as he growled, hunching over the pillow like an animal and spilling his cum into the crease. His hips slowed, lazily rocking back and forth as he milked the rest of his spend until he could take it not more, letting go of the silk and falling face first into the rest of his bedding, uncaring of the mess beneath him. 

Integrating yourself back into the Ministry life hadn’t been nearly as hard as you had thought, managing to avoid the Cardinal everywhere other than that damn seminar. You’d heard him call out to you as you were leaving, but it only made your feet carry you faster past your Siblings and out into the hall to escape. You knew it was cowardly, but you weren’t ready to have to explain yourself to him, to see the disappointment in his face or to chastise you for what you’d coerced him into doing.  

You knew today you could evade him, his schedule keeping him busy all day and out of your current hiding place; the library.  

You adored this library... The corridors were like a maze, easy enough to get lost in your pursuit of knowledge. In dark nooks, high back leather chairs to read in sat in dim lamplight. Artistic renditions of Satanic teachings littered the ceilings as they might in a Catholic church – except, it was Lucifer who danced through each scene instead of Jesus. Dark wooded desks for studying or translating lined up in the middle of the lobby, two grand staircases winding up the walls opposite each other to the second floor. In between the staircases, was the most beautiful part of all... 

On the floor sat a reversed Pentagram, carved into stone with pictures of Lucifer and his most feared animals painted into the ramp where the staircases met – goats, cats, owls, bats... the misunderstood creatures tied to him. Carved into the outer edge of the pentagram sat purple stained Atropa belladonna flowers and vines, and atop the raised pentagram sat a marble statue of a white snake winding around a black pedestal. In the mouth of the snake, stuck between the fangs, was the ripest red apple – a symbol of Lucifer’s temptation, his greatest triumph in the Garden of Eden.  

That statue always seemed to steal your breath away, as it did anyone who gazed upon it. The care and attention to detail, the way it always shined in the faux candlelight – real was too dangerous around the ancient texts and antique furniture throughout the library – it was just so spectacular.  

It was a beautiful place to spend your day, but it served a purpose today. You chose one of the leather high back chairs just off from the lobby to relax and catch up on some reading you’d neglected in your time spent hiding.   

As you neared the end of the book you were studying – an old Catholic tome you struggled to translate from the dusty pages – you decided to find the book that you knew countered the Catholic teachings, so you could cross reference and perhaps understand the old book better.  

You stood, taking the Catholic tome with you into the rows of tall bookshelves in search of the Satanic counterpart. It had to be up on the fourth shelf, just out of reach. Sighing dramatically in your own laziness, you reached for the running ladder at the end of the shelves, dragging it along its tracks to the spot you had been standing. You rested the book in your arms on a lower shelf, and starting to climb the rungs of the ladder.  

In your haste, the long skirt of your chosen conservative habit – the ones you had taken to wearing every day now that you were to be out and about around the Cardinal again – became trapped under your foot and naturally, you slipped from a few feet off the ground, losing your grip and balance.  

Two unassumingly strong arms stopped you before you could hit the marble flooring, wrapping around your waist and tugging you to a body behind you to stop you meeting a rather bruising conclusion.     “Careful, Sorella...” the chest you were pressed against vibrated with a deep chuckle. “Pretty girls should not be covered in accidental bruises, eh?”  

You stumbled to your feet, straightening out your habit and turning to see Terzo smirking at you, his ghostly eye somehow even more bewitching in the dim lamplight.     “Grazie (thank you), Papa... I slipped on...” 

“Sì, your habit,” his eyes raked over your form, confusion furrowing on his brow as he remembered the other morning in his office – you'd been wearing something much more to his liking. “I must say, I preferred the shorter one, mia cara . With the red stitching...” he winked.  

Your cheeks flushed with heat as you averted your eyes from his.  

“Did you only wear that for me, tesoro? ” he winked, taking a step towards you, “Thought it would get you out of trouble, eh?” His teasing flustered you, and you couldn’t string a full sentence together as your heart pounded in your ears, breathing irregular to compensate for the rush of oxygen to your brain. He laughed as you stuttered a denial. 

“Speaking of trouble, have you been attending your duties, sorella? Did you go to Copia’s seminar?” he stepped back again out of your personal space, allowing you to breathe normally once again. 

“Sì, Papa.” 

“And was he... happy to see you?” he asked, arching a brow. His tone confused you, like he expected a specific reaction. But Terzo was fishing... he suspected the Cardinal had a crush and was doing anything he could to put you in Copia’s way. He was making you dance around him, like the carrot on a string to tempt the donkey.... 

“Uh... I don’t know,” you thought back to the way his face fell when his eyes caught yours, the way his breath caught in his throat and the look of fear as his skin had paled to a grey colour. “Perhaps he was surprised.” 

Terzo’s face screwed up in confused annoyance. He’d expected better from the Cardinal, for him to be more welcoming when he so clearly had missed you around the Ministry. He’d asked Terzo to keep an eye out for you, to tell him immediately if he saw you, after all.  

“Well, I’m glad you’re back to your schedule, mia cara. But you know,” Terzo had a plan... He enjoyed meddling in the Cardinal’s affairs, and well, anyone’s ... “I must insist you attend confessional before today is out.” 

Your heart dropped in your chest. You fought to keep your face neutral, quelling every natural urge to look absolutely petrified of the thought. Because of course he would want you to attend confessional today.  

On a fucking Thursday.  

“It’s been a while, no? If you were gone for four weeks, you must be overdue?” he quizzed.  

“W-well, yes...”   

“We can’t have you falling behind, mia cara. I’m sure you have something to confess to the Dark Lord,” he turned on his expensive Cuban heels, “I must go, I have some uh... business to attend concerning a rather beautiful Librarian,” he began sauntering off into the bookshelves, “By tonight, per favore, sorella !” he called out behind him. 

Just as before, your shoes echoed on the Ministry floors as you walked to the Chapel. Except tonight, they felt louder and louder, ringing in your ears with each step. Your legs carried you on autopilot, unable to disobey a Papa’s direct instruction.  

Why did he choose tonight of all nights? It felt like returning to the scene of a crime... You didn’t know what you were going to say, what you could possibly confess to the Cardinal this evening that you’d done in the last few weeks when quite obviously you hadn’t done anything at all... 

The Chapel was steeped in dim candlelight, completely void of any signs of life. You stood in the doorway for a moment, staring like a deer caught in headlights at the booth at the other end of the room. A shiver ran over your spine, a nasty reminder that you were supposed to move, to go and sit in that infernal wooden box next to the source of your embarrassment, your fear... your lust.  

Because of course, despite your efforts to pretend he didn’t exist, your brain liked to remind you at night that he most certainly did. Except now, the grunts and groans of his pleasure were accurate, burned into your memory and used against you as a weapon as you slept.  

With a push, you entered the Chapel, somehow speed-walking to sit inside the booth beside the Cardinal who jumped at the sound of the door slamming shut a little too hard. You wasted no time.  

“Bless me, Cardinal, I have sinned,” you deadpanned.  

Beside you, the Cardinal sat bolt upright, eyes staring into his peripheral vision, afraid to make a move and look directly at the shadow beside him. If he made any sudden movements, perhaps you’d disappear in a puff of smoke... 

He cleared his throat quietly.     “Which of the sins have you committed, Sorella?” He stuck to his duty, as you stuck to yours. He wasn’t about to risk trying to have any other kind of conversation with you right now. Perhaps he could try after...  

But what the fuck would he even say to you? He wanted so desperately to apologise, but he couldn’t completely clear his conscience without admitting to everything that’s happened since the last time you sat beside each other in this damned booth. And there was no way he could do that, not without the promise that the ground would open up beneath his feet and plunge him into the deepest pit of hell the second he finished confessing. 

Beside him, you waited a moment, trying to think of something to confess to, but your mind was screaming the same thing at you.     Lust. Lust. Lust. Lust. LUST.  

“Sloth, Cardinal,” you huffed, “I’ve neglected my duties.” Coward, you scolded yourself. Not that it was a lie, of course. But... you couldn’t just own up to the worst of your sins. 

Copia’s shoulders relaxed next to him, a sigh leaving his lips. Part of him was terrified you might say lust again – he wasn’t sure he could take that torture. 

“Do you wish to elaborate, sorella? Is there a reason for your sloth?” he asked, as if he was trying to hurt himself further. He knew it was him – he was the reason. You were avoiding him, disgusted by him.  

“I did something terrible, and... I’ve been hiding,” you admitted. The cardinal was confused... What could you, his sweet sorella, have possibly done that was so terrible? Lucifer, you didn’t mean him? Were you that horrified by him?   

“Sorella, there’s no need to hide, you... uh...” he couldn’t think straight, his heartbeat rising in his chest as he panicked. He didn’t know what to say... Almost as if he were to absolve you of your sins but that wasn’t what confessional was for? But he wanted so badly to comfort you, to tell you it was okay, that he was so sorry... So very sorry for putting you in that position all those weeks ago.  

And on the other side of the lattice, there you sat, feeling sorry for ever entering the booth that night, for pushing him into such a situation with a member of his congregation, for defiling his position as Cardinal.  

Both two different sides of exactly the same coin. 

“I... I can’t do this, Cardinal. I’m sorry...” you rushed, pushing your way out of the booth and running through the Chapel. Copia sat for a moment, frozen in shock and disappointment when his body reacted before his mind could.   

He got up, and chased you. Out through the Chapel, down the hall where the clacking of your shoes was still echoing off the marble. But he kept running, desperately trying to find you without tripping on his cassock. He had to find you. He couldn’t let you stay like this, so angry and disgusted at him. He needed to apologise, even if that meant admitting to all the rest...    

“Sorella, wait!” he called, the halls empty for the time of evening it was. He was grateful, chasing a mere shadow through the halls like a predator on the hunt for his prey. Except that’s the last thing he wanted you to feel; hunted.  

You found it too difficult to run in your habit, far too long for you. You cursed as you stumbled, somehow managing to stay on your feet in the pursuit of your dorm but the Cardinal was faster than he looked, and before you knew what had happened you felt a grip on your arm dragging you into a nearby door, letting go as soon as you’d been almost flung into the room.   

The door slammed, and the Cardinal stood against it, breathless and looking distraught.  

“Cardinal, don’t make me s-” you wanted to apologise, to beg to spare you the shame of saying aloud what you’d been thinking since that first confessional... but he interrupted you.   “Sorella, mi dispiace if I frightened you, but I owe you an ap-” 

“Cardinal please, I can’t-”    “Mia cara, just listen...” he begged, but neither of you could get a word in edgeways.  

“I’m sorry, okay? I can’t help it, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable...” you cried, eyes filling with tears as you yelled your sorrows at him.     “What? What are you-” his confusion painted his features, hardened lines forming in his face.  

“Y-you’ve always been so good to me, and I don’t want to make you feel awkward or put you through that ever again. I should never have made you do that, I’m so ashamed of myself,” you rabbited on, wailing at him with four weeks of pent-up embarrassment spewing out your mouth. But the Cardinal stared at you as the cogs in his brain turned, realising what you were actually apologising for.  

“Are you sorry for your dream, mia cara?” he asked you softly, taking a step to stand of his own accord instead of leaning his back against the closed door.  

“Yes!” you yelled, “That and... well... what happened. It was too far, I put you in such an uncomfortable position and that’s not fair of me at all. Cardinal please forgive me, I’m trying not to have these thoughts-”     “You’re still having them?” his head cocked to the side, eyes squinting as he processed your rantings. 

“Well, um... I... yes, but I’m working on it, I’m trying to busy myself with other things and I thought that maybe if I hid for a while that I could stop it, not that I could look you in the eyes again anyway after what I did, and...” 

Copia had heard enough. He strode towards you through the rows of desks and chairs surrounding him, pressing the palm of his glove to your mouth to quiet you and in turn, pushing you to lean back against the solid oak desk behind you.     “Sorella, please...” 

That moment, singularly, was the beginning of your downfall. When you felt the leather of his glove press against your lips, his body pressing against yours as you stumbled back, and you whined against his hand...  

Copia’s eyes widened, like he hadn’t expected that at all. His movements were not meant to be at all provocative in nature; he had simply panicked, needing you to hush so he could speak, to apologise and not knowing how else to do so. But now... Well, he could see the crimson colour of your cheeks under his glove, matched with the look of shock on your own face. That noise; it was completely involuntary. But it came from a place of lust...    Of submission. 

A beat of silence passed between you, the air appearing to be sucked out of the room completely, suffocating you both where you stood. Your screamed at yourself inside your head, cursing how pathetically easily you had succumbed to the slightest touch and showed your hand before any kind of game had truly even begun.  

“You must learn when to quiet this pretty mouth of yours and listen...” The cardinal tested his limits, watching your response. He noticed the way your chest rose and fell deeply and slowly beneath him, and how your eyes softened a little as they scanned his face and found no real anger there, only the hint of a smirk. “Now, give me a nod or a shake of your head, eh? I want to ask you a few things. Nod if you understand.”  

You nodded, his hand still pressed firmly to your mouth.  

“Are you still having these dreams, Sorella?” You shut your eyes now, embarrassed, and slowly nodded your head.     “And are you still... enjoying these dreams?” he spoke slowly, deliberately. You nodded again, hesitant. 

“And have you acted on these dreams since, tesoro?” You took a few deep breaths before answering again; a slow, ashamed, but deliberate nod.  

Copia sucked a lungful of oxygen in through his teeth, watching your eyes on him as he did. His head swam in a dizzying array of images; thoughts of the dream you had told him about in such detail, thoughts of you alone at night thinking of him, touching yourself for him. As he exhaled, he looked away from you, breaking the eye contact you held in fear and finally looking around the room.  

The seminar room...  

… from your dream.  

A wicked smirk spread across the Cardinal’s face, and as you followed his gaze around the room, you realised why. You dare not move, holding your breath as he turned back to you, his beautifully monochrome eyes hooded and boring down into yours. 

“It’s here, no?” he asked. You didn’t move, didn’t make a sound. “This is where your fantasia (fantasy) takes place, eh? Answer me, tesoro. ..”  

You nodded against his hand again, shame flooding your cheeks with warmth. The stirring in your abdomen was growing the longer he stood pressing you into the desk behind you. It was maddening.  

“I press you against this desk in that dream, hm?” he knocked on the wood you leaned on with his free hand, in turn pressing just a little tighter against you. You could feel his body heat through his cassock, and it served to focus your own heat between your legs... “Will you remind me, mia cara , what exactly did I do here?” 

Slowly, he removed his hand from your mouth to let you answer him with words – except, you could find none. You stuttered and fumbled as you stared into his eyes, his face so close to yours you could smell his cologne stronger than you ever had. It was utterly intoxicating, a sweet yet smoky aroma. 

“Come, now, dolcezza ... Don’t hold out on me now, hm?” The back of his fingers met your cheek, lightly grazing the blush soothingly. “What. Did. I. do?”  

There was no escaping this, not that you wanted to. You were so close, your dream practically coming true before you. You may not be able to forgive yourself for pushing your Cardinal over the lines of professionalism all those weeks ago, but here he was, quite obviously flirting with you, enticing you.  

Tempting you.  

And you would never forgive yourself for fumbling this, for running and hiding once again. And that guilt would be worse, embedded with more shame and embarrassment than ever before. 

“You... were kissing me...” you whispered. The Cardinal smiled – not the dirty little smirk from before, more of a satisfactory smile, sweeter.  

“Tesoro, I’ll only ask you once – and whatever the answer, I will respect it,” he began, some nerves starting to bubble up in his chest. He feared rejection more than anything, having been rejected his entire life. Could he take it if you rejected him too? He wasn’t sure, but he had to try...  “Would you like me to kiss you?” 

Your chest bloomed with warmth, eyes flickering down to his half-painted lips and back to his eyes, somehow looking more puppy-dog like as the seconds ticked by. You realised then, he was scared of you saying no. Scared...   

But you could never deny your Cardinal.  

Words had failed you, that much was clear. And so, you opted for almost involuntary action, slowly leaning forwards against him until your lips barely grazed his. Copia could have sworn he felt his lips tingle where they’d brushed with yours; such a fleeting touch, unsure of yourself but it was all the answer he needed.  

He leaned in again, pressing his lips to yours for a kiss that took your breath away... His lips melded into yours with such a longing, both of you easily losing yourself in the moment. Just as in your dream, you sank into him, your hands gripping onto his cassock as he deepened the kiss. His arms had snaked around your waist, pulling your hips flush against him as he hummed into your mouth. 

Just as you imagined every night, one of his hands came to remove your veil, letting your hair fall freely while he worked his way past your lips with his tongue, gently mixing with your own as you fell further into him. You whined at the sensation, feeling his hands regroup and tighten on your waist as you did.  

He pulled away from you breathless, the black paint of his top lip smudged slightly. He pressed his forehead to yours, searching your eyes for any sign you wanted to back out, but finding nothing.  

“You look so beautiful without your veil, dolcezza...” he whispered before he could stop himself. Mentally, he scolded himself for being such a lovesick idiota, but the way you looked into his eyes and smiled was everything he had hoped for. He twirled a strand of your hair in his fingers, watching it as he curled it around the leather. “I had no idea you had all this under there, eh?” he chuckled, “ bellissima (beautiful).”  

He dropped the strand and instead came to hold your chin between this thumb and finger.  

“Now tell me, what happens next in that dream of yours again?” Your heart pounded in your chest, threatening to punch straight through your ribs to get to him. This was happening. This wasn’t you pushing him into anything, you weren’t undermining his authority. He wanted this. He wanted you.   

“Your hands... they slide up my habit...” you muttered, shy.  

“Like this?” he narrated, crouching momentarily to hook his hand under your habit, trailing slowly up your leg until the skirt hung lopsided around your upper thigh. You nodded at him, watching as his eyes never left yours. “And do I touch you here, mia cara? ” His palm cupped your mound over your panties, and he could feel the searing heat emanating from your core through the leather of his glove.  

The noise you made was involuntary – a soft gasp that made his already half-hard length twitch with interest beneath the heavy wool of his clothes. He didn’t wait for you to answer him, his question more of a rhetorical tease. Instead, he slid his hand against you, pressing against your entrance while his palm sat heavy against your clitoris.  

“Cardinal...” you breathed, eyes fluttering shut and lips parting to a perfectly round ‘O’.  

He continued to tease for a moment, enjoying the soft mewls and sharp breaths you took each time he would alternate the pressure between his palm and his fingers. But he only had so much control, after weeks of pining, of dreaming of you, fucking his damn pillows to the memory and the scent of you. 

He hooked his fingers into the waistband of your underwear, pulling them down your legs and letting them hit the floor around your feet. Without wasting a second or daring to look away from the blissful expression on your face, he dipped his fingers between your folds, dragging them painfully slowly through the mess you had made for him. The choked moan you let out at the sensation of that damned glove sliding through rang out against the stone walls of the seminar room.  

Copia collected some of your mess on his glove, lifting his hand into the dim candlelight of the room to see the way it shined. It reminded him of the moment he’d found your sodden glove in the booth, how it left the darker wet marks where he’d held it. Except this time, he was blessed enough to have it right from the source.  

“ Splendido... (splendid)” he mumbled, before you opened your eyes to watch him bring his shimmering glove to his lips, tasting what he’d taken. The way he groaned at the sweetness had you clenching around nothing, fisting the cassock you still had such a tight grip on. “I can’t deny myself, dolcezza ... Not anymore.” 

Before you had time to linger on his words – not anymore... - he dropped to his knees in front of you, as if ready to worship. He adjusted the skirt of your habit for you to hold around your hips, still covering your modesty for now. Both his hands slid up your thighs, parting them as he slotted in-between, finally coming to uncover you for him. 

The way you glistened for him made his concealed erection throb, and as much as he wanted to dive in and devour you whole, he didn’t want to rush this. He’d waited too long to be sloppy here. Instead, he pressed his lips to your inner thighs, enjoying the way they trembled in anticipation. Slowly, he made his way up, his breath tickling and warming the trail of wet he’d left with his tongue.  

Finally, his lips pressed against your mound. As painful as it was to have him tease, to gently kiss you where you so desperately needed more, you were grateful for any contact at all after the weeks of anguish believing he held no feelings other than disappointment and disgust for you.  

When the Cardinal at your feet finally allowed his tongue to slip between your folds, you couldn’t help the hand that flew to knock his biretta off his head, grasping at the peppered grey hair that grew beneath it. He groaned against you; at your taste, at your heat, at your grip. It was all so wonderfully intoxicating.  

As he let himself bury his tongue in you, he lifted one of your thighs over his shoulder for better access for him, and stability for you. He wrapped his arm around that thigh, gripping on for dear life as if you’d disappear on him again. But you were going nowhere anytime soon... 

As he mouthed at your clit, he couldn’t help the grunts and groans that rumbled like thunder against you, vibrating through you. You threw your head back in pleasure, uncaring of how loud your moans and whimpers were.  

When Copia started to slide his middle finger through your folds below his tongue, you almost collapsed back onto the desk. He pressed against your entrance, slowly allowing his leather-clad finger to slide inside you. He never stopped his tongue, never came up for breath.  

When he had his ring finger join the other, you began to see stars. He filled you so well, scissoring inside you and curling up towards that glorious spot inside you that no other had ever found.  

“C-Cardinal... ahh,” you whimpered. It fuelled him further, hearing his title fall from your lips above him. It was all too much for him; your taste, your grip. And now that? Oh, how sinful it sounded, how beautiful, like the prettiest songbird singing its morning melody.  

He was ashamed to admit that what you were doing to him had such a tight grasp on his sanity, he was losing himself in his mind and his body was following suit. While he had no friction, no pressure, nothing to help the painful need in his crotch, he was so close...  

In his reverie, he lifted your other thigh over his shoulder, burying his face further into you as he continued using his fingers to bring you closer and closer to the edge. You had to grip the desk under you to steady yourself, allowing his animalistic urges to take total control of your body. This was nothing like your dream.  

This was so much better.  

His tongue lavished against your clit unforgivingly, lips circling and suckling from time to time as he drank you in.  

“F-fuck, Cardinal... I can’t,” you begged for nothing above him, so close to the edge, dangling by a splintering branch over a deep canyon that was ready to snap at any moment. You couldn’t help the way you bucked your hips anymore, or the way you ground your pussy down into his face, his nose becoming a tool for pleasure as much as his tongue, lips and chin.  

That splintering branch snapped clean off when he growled into you, and suddenly you couldn’t hold yourself up anymore, back slamming down into the hard wood of the desk behind you. If you felt any pain at all, it didn’t show – you were too busy writhing and squeezing your thighs around poor Copia’s head.  

What you didn’t know, was that the growl that had pushed you into your earth-shattering orgasm had been a growl not only of lust, but of anger. At himself.  

Beneath you, Copia was squeezing your thigh with the hand that wasn’t buried inside you, desperately trying to stop himself... But his poor, untouched cock had violently flinched beneath his cassock before spilling a hot load of his seed. Copia had cum just from eating you out.  

If he didn’t feel like a pathetic pervert before tonight, he certainly did now. Who cums from just going down on a woman?  

Oh, but you were not just any woman, were you? Not to him. You were the woman he pined over, stressed over, cried over, came over every fucking night for four wretched weeks. What it was about you, he wasn’t sure, but the Cardinal had never been so besotted with a woman in his life. Dare he say it, it had started long before that night in the confessional booth... He had been drawn to you since the day you took your vows.  

And no, he just couldn’t help himself.  

You lay on the desk, catching your breath and waiting for your head to stop spinning as your limbs went lifeless around him, one slipping from his shoulder. He detached himself from your core and stood up, readjusting himself in his pants for a more comfortable position now that the wet patch in his underwear was beginning to seep through to bloom into a deep red stain on his cassock. But there was no getting comfortable with his softening cock confined and covered in his own spend.  

He stepped towards you, between your legs and reached for your hand with the glove that wasn’t still glistening with your arousal. He lifted it to his completely smudged lips, peppering the back of it with chaste kisses as you came to.  

“Mia cara... are you... okay?” he mumbled between kisses. You hummed an affirmative response back, your mind still foggy in post-orgasm haze.  

Copia continued peppering kisses to the back of your hand, to each fingertip, your wrist, a little way up your arm and back down as he waited patiently for you to come back around to him. Eventually, you sat up, pushing your habit down to cover your modesty once again. He held your hand in his, gazing up into your eyes with a soft expression you couldn’t quite read. 

When you really looked at him, you couldn’t help but giggle. His paint was smudged around his mouth, a grey hue painting him from his nose to his chin, and his hair was so dishevelled he looked as if he had been dragged through a hedge.  

“What’s so funny, cara ?” he smiled with you, the kind of smile you can’t keep off your face when someone you adore is laughing near you.  

“You look a mess,” you laughed, smoothing out the parts of his hair that were sticking up.  

“Ah, sì, you have quite a grip,” he chuckled, looking away for a moment, suddenly bashful. “I trust that was not so bad, eh?” he bit his lip as he waited for your response, a little smug smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. 

“Better than my dream, Cardinal,” you shyly admitted. “But um... my dream doesn’t end there...” 

Copia’s smile dropped, realising what you were hinting at. You weren’t done yet... You wanted more from him. But in order to perform, he would have to reveal what you so far had missed.  

Before he could protest, your hand was cupping his bulge under his cassock, but as you pressed your palm there, your eyes grew wide, and your gaze dropped to look at what you’d felt.  

Wet.   

“Uh... mi dispiace, sorella... (I’m sorry, sister...) I... I couldn’t, um...”  

Someone had stoked the dissipating fire inside you once again, and a flame began to burn. You weren’t sure if it was knowing that Copia had cum in his pants at the taste of you, or if it was his dumbstruck look as he tried to rectify the situation with words but knowing he had been so enamoured with you that he’d reached his end even whilst neglected... that was hotter than you could have ever imagined.  

“What was it, Cardinal?” you interrupted him. He silenced quickly, cocking his head in confusion. “Was it how I sounded?” You pressed your palm to the soft bulge beneath you, not at all bothered by the wet fabric. 

“Was it how I tasted?” you asked, your confidence growing as his eyes widened in shock. ��

“Was it how I pulled your hair?” The heel of your palm dug into him, rotating in a small circle over his cock.  

“Was it, how my thighs tightened around your head?” You heard him moan softly as you stared into his eyes. His cock was beginning to twitch in interest again.  

“Or was it how my pussy clenched around your fingers?”   

That did it. Without a word, the man before you wrapped his hand around the back of your neck, pulling you to him to crash your lips together. You’d awoken something inside him, a beast that he’d been keeping tame until now. Between desperate clashes of lips and tongues, Copia began to tease you back. 

“You want to know what it was, tesoro?” he panted against your lips like a dog in heat, “it was the thought that not only did I have you right where I wanted you,” he paused for another heated kiss, “ finally tasting what I’ve been desiring for so long,” and another, “but that I had infiltrated this pretty little head of yours, corrupted the sweetest of all the sorelle... I got to make you, mine...”   

You whimpered at his words, knowing every single one was no lie. But hearing Copia call you his had you arching your back to press against him, your hips desperately seeking him out and your lips messily found his again.  

 Terzo yawned as he walked down the halls of the ministry, the days of solid paperwork and papal duties - not the mention his library rendezvous earlier that day... - catching up to him as he slogged back to his quarters. The halls were dark, silent. He didn’t rush – he didn’t have the energy to. His mind wandered as he dawdled, taking in the stained glass around him with every step he took.   

He rounded a corner, and thought he could hear shuffling coming from inside one of the seminar rooms. He rolled his eyes, annoyed at the thought of having to put on his big scary Papa voice and tell whoever was out of bounds this late to go back to their dorms. Why did they make him work so hard, eh?   

As he drew closer to the door of a room he presumed was the one inhabited, he heard voices. He reached for the doorknob, until the voices registered, and he realised... These were voices he recognised...  

“Uh... mi dispiace, sorella... (I’m sorry, sister...) I... I couldn’t, um...” Was that Cardinal Copia he heard stammering away in there like a moron? Well, as a higher up member of the clergy, he was okay to be out of bounds at this hour. Terzo shrugged to himself and started to turn away from the door – whatever the Cardinal was up to in there was his business. And frankly, Terzo was too tired to even realise he had been speaking to someone...    

“What was it, Cardinal?” Terzo stopped, his brows pulling together in thought. That had sounded like you, Sister _____?  What would she be doing alone with the Cardinal at this hour?   

Terzo was now intrigued, and hung around for a moment. 

“Was it how I sounded?” What on earth was she talking about?   

“Was it how I tasted?” Terzo’s eyes widened, his jaw falling open. Had he heard that right?  

“Was it how I pulled your hair?” This was not the same Sorella _____ he knew, surely not? Such filth spilling from her mouth... He almost felt a swell of pride in his chest. 

“Was it, how my thighs tightened around your head?” Terzo all but jumped with giddiness at the door, keeping himself as quiet as possible to not alert those inside. He heard the Cardinal moan the most pathetic little sound, and slapped his gloved hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter. Oh, fratellino, you are down BAD...    

“Or was it how my pussy clenched around your fingers?”  

Terzo’s hand dropped when his jaw hit the floor, completely taken aback by your brazen use of such a sinful phrase. He’d clearly stumbled upon something already in motion... Suddenly, he heard a quick shuffle, followed by a suppressed moan from you and a hungry growl from the Cardinal. Terzo jumped away from the door as if it had burst into flames.  

Now, Terzo was certainly a pervert. But he was not about to eavesdrop on his brother fraternising with a sister of sin. He recoiled at the thought, shivering as he backed away to the far wall of the opposite corridor. He stood frozen for a moment, his body not reacting anywhere near fast enough.   

“You want to know what it was, tesoro?.... It was the thought that not only did I have you right where I wanted you... but I had infiltrated this pretty little head of yours, corrupted the sweetest of all the sorelle... I got to make you, mine...”  

That did it. Terzo turned and bolted down the corridor to get away from the lip-smacking sounds and the whines you let slip.  

As he rounded the corner and managed to get away from the noises that frankly would now haunt him in his dreams, he couldn’t help but feel a little... proud.    

That had been his doing. He’d pushed them together, forced them into each other’s presence knowing how absolutely pitiful and sciocco (foolish) the pair of you were being. Terzo certainly wasn’t blind – he'd seen the Cardinal’s affections, saw how your absence had affected him so. Now he was beginning to think your disappearance may even have had to do with him, in some way. Avoiding him, perhaps?  

Not that it mattered. For now, he was proud that his fratellino was making a move – however mentally scarring that move had been to overhear. 

And he told you that you were his, too. The meaning of that may have been lost in the moment, but it certainly wasn’t lost on Terzo. Copia meant that with every fibre of his being.  

He smiled to himself as he continued to walk to his chambers. For all the teasing and all the jokes Terzo made at Copia’s expense as they were growing up, he had to admit, he turned out alright in the end. His goofy little half-brother who kept his secret Beanos and drank his little juice boxes. He chuckled to himself – he certainly was proud of him. And finally, someone else saw him for more than a bumbling idiot. Someone finally didn’t underestimate him the way the rest of the ministry did.  

“Ben fatto (good job) , Terzo,” he smirked to himself. His little plan had worked; albeit, far sooner than expected, and just a little too well. 

He would be working hard this evening to forget what he’d just overheard...

Copia’s grip on your thighs around his hips tightened as he deepened your kiss, the leather of his gloves tightening and squeaking over his taught hands. You were sure he would leave bruises with how hard he held you, pulling you flush against him until your core pressed against his hardening length. You didn’t care though; any mark he left on you was like a badge of honour.  

“Dolcezza, what do you want from me, eh?” he pleaded, breathless as he trailed open mouthed kisses along your jaw and to your neck, never once disconnecting his lips along the way.   

“All of you, Cardinal...” you practically sang, “ please...”   

He hummed against your neck, lost entirely to his visceral need to devour you whole. You threaded your hands in his hair again, holding him tight to you as you let your head fall back, enjoying the kisses, the nips and bites, the suckling against your skin that bloomed in beautiful red and purple patches. 

Copia stood upright for a moment, biting at the leather on his right hand to free himself of his glove and spitting it to one side before he lay his palm on your cheek. He drank you in with his eyes, hooded and blown out with lust. You nuzzled into him instinctively searching out his touch, your lips finding his thumb to pepper kisses to the tip. It felt oddly intimate, more so than having his face buried between your thighs.  

No one ever saw the Cardinal – or any clergy member, for that matter – without their gloves. Their bare touch was saved for those they devoted it to, and here he was, baring himself to you . 

You pressed a final kiss to his thumb, before allowing your tongue to lave over the pad of it, your lips following to engulf his thumb in the warmth of your mouth. Copia hummed in front of you, his other hand squeezing your thigh tightly as he watched. 

“Cosa ho fatto per meritarti, tesoro? (What did I do to deserve you, sweetheart?)” he groaned, pushing his thumb to smear your spit over your lips, adoring the way they glistened for him in the low light. “I want to give you all of me,” he slid his hand to your neck, a wet trail left along your skin by the saliva still on his thumb, and gripped tight enough to send a wave of excitement through you. “Every last inch...” 

You whined for him again, as your body seemed to do of its own accord, and let him capture your lips in another kiss. You could no longer stand it – you needed him, like the moon needs the sun to glow brightly in the night.   

Hastily, you reached for the buttons of his cassock, making quick work of them until he could shrug out of the heavy red wool and let it fall to the floor. He helped you then, to remove his jacket underneath while you focussed on freeing his length.  

“A little messy, mi dispiace ,” he smirked, not sorry at all for the mess he’d made when he now knew how much that had turned you on. On another occasion, you would have liked to sink to your knees, clean him up and ready him for what came next but there was no time for that. Messy or not, you simply needed him.  

You didn’t even attempt to remove his pants, instead pushing them just a little further down his hips to allow you to reach into his underwear and take him in your hand. He hissed through his teeth like you’d scalded him, but instead rocking his hips to chase your touch. He had been correct, there was certainly a mess in there – one that coated your hand as you pulled his erection free and pumped along his length once, twice...  

“ Cazzo... (Fuck...)” he groaned.  

As your hand moved, you let your eyes wonder over his body, half exposed to you now. The physique you had dreamed of wasn’t far off, except he had a little more muscle definition than your imagination had given him credit for, particularly in the two lines that framed his abdomen, leading down to where your hand worked him over. But what caught your eye most of all, was the strange tattoo that sat over his heart, hidden by a thin layer of grey-speckled chest hair.  

Three 6’s, in a spiral, marked into his chest for eternity. Your free hand traced the black lines, fingertips grazing over it making him shiver at your touch. You didn’t ask about it, there was no need. He had kept it covered, hidden from knowledge of anyone else until right now – you were the only person he ever wanted to be this vulnerable to. Someday though, you might ask him about that...  

Copia moved to remove his other glove, letting it drop to the floor beside him with the rest of his garments. His red pants still clung to his thighs, and he struggled to draw his eyes away from where your hand stroked his cum-covered cock lazily.  

With one long, drawn out stroke back up his length, you lifted your hand – smeared in his mess – and pressed two of your fingers to your tongue, sucking the mess from them as you held his eye contact. His expression darkened, baring his teeth to you like an animal as he smirked, watching you lick and suck every last bit of his essence from your hand. A fire raged within you, like lava spewing through your veins at the quiet yet guttural groan he unleashed. 

In a flash, he was dragging you to the edge of the desk where you sat, both hands burrowing into the soft flesh of your hips. His hips slowly rocked against you, cock dragging through the plentiful juices you’d left for him. You hummed at the feeling of some contact, particularly the feeling of the veins and ridges of his hardness. You needed him inside you, filling you. You couldn’t drag this out anymore; it was like torture. Worse than torture.  

“Please, Cardinal...” you begged. And how could he deny you when you’d asked so nicely?  

“Kiss me, bella,” he huffed, his focus snatched away by the hypnotising sight of his cock sliding through your folds as he teased. It was as if he could only be diverted by your lips, that he couldn’t drag his attention away voluntarily.  

You grabbed him by the jaw with one hand, crushing your lips to his desperately. He growled again, the weeping head of his cock catching on your entrance and slowly, finally, he began to push inside...  

Your jaw went slack, kiss long forgotten as your eyes squeezed shut and you let out a staggered moan into his mouth.  

“ Sono qui, tesoro... (I’m here, sweetheart...)” he assured, holding your hips flush to him with a hand on the small of your back. He struggled to keep himself still, buried to the hilt and desperate to move, but you needed a moment. The feeling was overwhelming, stretched to the brink of pain and pleasure, dangling dangerously there as you got used to him.  

It was a true testament to his self-control and his character that he waited for you – as soon as his length had been buried in your tight, wet warmth he thought he was a goner. He figured that this was it – this was the glorious afterlife he’d been promised, that he prayed to Lucifer for day in, day out. 

Having you pressed against him grounded him as much as he needed. He watched the expression on your face, waiting for any sign of discomfort, of regret. He found none, because there was none to give. His lips hovered above yours, enjoying the warmth of your breath as you moaned for him.  

You were wearing too many clothes still for his liking; he wanted to be unbearably close to you, to feel the warmth of your skin on his, see you in all your glory. Still buried deep inside you, he used one of his hands to unbutton your habit, slowly revealing more flesh to him, kissing down your exposed chest until he could reach no further down.  

He was so gentle with you, so patient. He fought the urges to thrust into you, to take what he so desperately wanted from you. He simply wanted this to be perfect, and the thought had your eyes glazing with an adoration that went beyond a silly little wet dream. 

As your own way of signalling you were okay, you wanted more, you shimmied out of your now open habit, letting it pool around you where you sat, and pulled the straps of your bra down, unclipping it at the back.  

He watched your slow movements, tracing patterns on your skin with his fingertips. “ Più bella di quanto avrei mai potuto immaginare (more beautiful than I ever could have imagined),” he whispered, pressing his lips to your sternum, feeling your heart beating against him. If only he had known he felt this way, that it was more than just lust – if he had admitted that to himself... 

“ Copia ...” you whined, the first time you’d called him by his name all evening... His heart swelled, smiling against the swell of your breast between kisses. “ Per favore, h-ho bisogno d-di te... (Please, I need you...)” you stuttered in broken Italian, piecing together bits you had picked up in your time in the Ministry, but he knew – oh , he knew what you were saying.  

“ Qualsiasi cosa per te, amore mio (anything for you, my love),” he replied, sweetly pressing his lips to yours as he cradled your face in his hands. You wrapped your arms around his neck and sunk into him, only for him to begin moving his hips, slowly pulling back from where he had been buried deep within your warmth for a few minutes now at least... 

You mewled into his kiss, letting your tongues dance together so beautifully. It wasn’t until he had slid almost completely away from you that he pushed his way back in, gliding almost effortlessly in the slick you’d created for him. He built his movements over a few slow thrusts, gradually setting a pace that would never bring you to any kind of climax, but enough that the two of you were swirling in pleasure, able to enjoy your first moments anchored together.   

Copia’s lips never left yours, not to allow moans the freedom to escape or to allow his lungs the freedom to breathe. You were totally, utterly enamoured with each other.  

With every roll of his hips, you edged closer and closer to a point of begging for more, begging for a means to an end. He was struggling to keep himself composed, too scared to frighten you off if he unleashed what had built inside him for the last four weeks.  

“Copia, m-more... please...” you begged, finally separating the two of you to hazily look in his beautifully distinct eyes, show him the desperation in your own.  

“Amore, if I let go, I’m not sure I can control myself...” he warned, still forcing himself to stay at the pace he’d set.  

“Then lose yourself, Cardinal... Take me,” you offered yourself to him, trusting completely that he would never do anything you didn’t desperately want yourself.  

With no further encouragement needed, and a whisper of “ Cazzo, Sathanas perdonami ... (fuck, Sathanas forgive me...) ” he picked up his pace, effortlessly sliding into you over and over until the tops of his thighs were smacking into the underside of yours. The sounds ricocheted off the stone walls around you, a sinful mix of whines, pants, grunts and skin slapping on skin swirling in the air around you.  

The hands laying loose around his shoulders slid into his hair, pulling tight to press his forehead to yours. The desk beneath you groaned and creaked under the force, scraping along the floors with each hit. Your Cardinal’s cock filled you so deliciously, his hips angled to hit the back of your cervix and the top of your pussy where that tantalising sweet spot lay.  

“I wanted you for so long, amore mio...” he confessed, “so completely, like un patetico bastardo (a pathetic bastard).” He grit his teeth together, grunting like an animal as he fucked into you. He fought the urge to push you back down against the desk and lift your thighs up, spreading you open as much as possible for him, wanting to savour the closeness, the way he could feel your breath beading in condensation on his neck.  

“S-six months...” It was your turn to confess. “I’d b-been dreaming of... you... for six months...” you cried out as he slammed into you harder, fuelled by your admission.  

“ Bella , you’ll be the end of me, eh?” he chuckled between pants of breathlessness. “ Adesso sono tutto tuo (now I’m all yours...)”   

The coil in your abdomen wound impossibly tighter, threatening to fracture at any moment with the way he rolled his hips up into you, filling you deliciously with each pistoning motion. You felt the ripples from each violent thrust over and over against your clit where his body met yours, and the way his nails dug into your flesh, no doubt leaving bruises with deep crescent shapes imprinted in your skin.  

“C-can’t... hold...” you could barely string a sentence together in your current state, “ fuck...”   

“Cum for me, amore. Cum for your Cardinal, eh?” he roared. And well, you couldn’t stop yourself if you wanted to.  

Fire spread from your core through every nerve ending, spanning your entire body and you squealed and writhed against him. He never faltered, not missing a single beat as you shook and spilled around his cock. The way your walls fluttered around him, squeezed him impossibly tighter made every thrust a struggle, but he fought it – he couldn’t let you down now.  

He tensed his body, staving off another orgasm as long as he possibly could. He wanted you to revel in yours, wanted to watch you come undone on his cock like he’d dreamed of so many times. A litany of profanities and mumblings of his name spilled in incoherent babble as your limbs turned to jelly, barely clinging onto him to stay upright. If you were to fall back or forward, you were to choose forward, slumping against his sweaty chest, your head sitting where his neck met his shoulder.  

In your tired and overstimulated state, all you could do for him was mouth at the skin there, leaving sloppy kisses while your pussy continued to pulse around him until eventually, he gripped your chin tightly to lift your head and crash his lips to yours. He growled into your mouth, hips stuttering and slowing – he had cum inside you, needing to taste you again as he did so.  

With his final few thrusts, his spend leaked from around his cock, mixing with your own climax. He punctuated each thrust with a hum of satisfaction, until he couldn’t take the movement anymore, his cock too sensitive to continue. Still, he didn’t remove himself. Not yet...  

Somehow you both slumped together, keeping each other upright with your body weight alone. Your chests rose and fell together, trying to regulate your breathing to have an opportunity to speak at all. But honestly? The pair of you were happy in your blissful silence together for a moment. 

After a few minutes, it was you who spoke first. 

“I thought you would hate me...” you sighed against his shoulder. Copia’s brows furrowed together, and he stood himself up removing his softening length from you, holding you by your shoulders to get a good look at you.  

“Why would you ever think that, amore mio?” he asked, genuinely confused.  

“I thought I had overstepped, that night in the confessional. I thought you were ashamed, disgusted...” you drooped your head in sadness at the memory of him excusing you so abruptly that evening.  

“No... not with you, never you , tesoro,” he assured. “At myself, sì? I assumed you would despise how I took advant-” 

“Cardinal no, you didn’t... Sathanas, we’re both really stupid, aren’t we?” you chuckled, shaking your head at your antics.    “Idioti innamorati (idiots in love),” he laughed, until he realised what he’d actually just said – and then the colour drained from his face, his eyes blowing out wide in horror.  

You smiled softly, taking his hands from your shoulders and pulling him to take a step closer to you.     “Idioti innamorati,” you smiled, pressing a kiss to the end of his nose, still greyed from the smudging of his paints. Copia smiled sheepishly, a warmth spreading in his chest. He hadn’t felt like this before, much less ever had someone reciprocate his feelings. He felt strangely at peace, more so than he ever had.  

“Tesoro, promise me something, eh?” he asked. You nodded, willing him to continue. “Never hide from me again, okay? I damn near lost my mind.”  

You laughed at your idiocy. “I promise, Cardinal.” You leaned forward to press your lips against his, sweetly capturing the moment in a blissful kiss.  

When you pulled apart, he wordlessly helped to gather the garments that had been carelessly removed and dressed you again. You exchanged jokes about the messes you both were, how vile it felt to put your clothes back on with the feeling of your spend seeping from you and his still damp in his underwear... How truly ridiculous you both were.  

“Come, bella. I have a rather large shower cubicle I think we can both put to good use,” he flirted, pulling you to him by your waist now you were both fully dressed. You agreed, taking him by the hand and wondering through the corridors together back to the clergy suites.  

“Besides, I have something of yours I feel I must give back...” Copia laughed at himself, somehow no longer afraid to admit what he had been up to in your absence when he knew now just how depraved your own mind could be.  

Your mind ticked over at what on earth he could possibly mean, until it dawned on you... You had lost your fucking glove.  

“ You pervert!” you accused, smacking his chest playfully as you walked. “Maybe I don’t want it back, Lucifer knows what you’ve done with that thing...” The two of you giggled and flirted your way back, uncaring and unaware of any prying ears that may hear voices late into the night.  

And there were indeed prying ears, albeit accidentally, that perked up at the sound of voices outside his chambers... 

Terzo sat on his couch with a glass of vintage red in his hand, attempting to read a book to take his mind off the sinful noises he’d heard from his fratello earlier that evening. When he recognised the noises, he groaned to himself.  

‘Must they parade around to remind me of that?’ he thought to himself, rolling his eyes and standing to look through the peephole of his door. He saw the two of you waltzing through the dimly lit corridor, hand in hand like teenagers. The dopey look on his brother’s face was, to him, a wonderful sight; so hopelessly enamoured with you as you giggled and laughed together into the night.   

He had always hoped Copia would find someone like you – perhaps that’s why you were the one sister he never tried to bed, the one he felt was off limits to him. Maybe he had always known... but he was glad to see his fratellino acting like himself in your presence. Goofy, dopey Copia. Perhaps now, he could stop looking for approval from those he looked up to and looked down on him, and focus his efforts on simply being himself. After all, he had now found someone who liked him for who he was, not who he hoped to be .  

“Idioti innamorati,” he muttered to himself, chuckling at his win.  

Sì, his fratellino could be himself now – however pathetic he may be...   FIN

A/N: I hope you loved it as much as I loved writing this. This may be my first Ghost fic, but it will NOT be my last - so if you'd like to stick around for more, I'd be incredibly grateful. Send me some head canon requests or some drabble prompts - I'm MORE THAN HAPPY to do those for you. Endless love, Bee 🖤 TAG LIST: @melvilless @copiasprincipessa @siouxbauhaus @edensbuttercups @daughter0fcain @xnothingpersonalx @assassinprocrastinator @funfetti-furby @kadedoesthings @sunbleached-ghoul @gravehags @gbatesx @solluna00 @mae-mei-m @bolliancat @ghulehsin @socksandcr0cs @girlwithissuesworld @fallen-angelito @maccery @wjyndigo @thew0man @a-fools-circus @luxavier @saintedcooper @whatawonderfulexistence--blog @calamity-queen @eternaltiare @moongoore @wagooo @dolceterzo @emeritusing @letstalkstories @sacred-coffin @rainstorms-library @ryos-cruddy-side-blog @fruitmanstyles @relentlessmoon @cardinal-copingmechanism @werich @strawberriiblossoms @evepeve @portaltothevoid @casualghostfan @copias-juicebox @sl1psth3magg0t @enchantedbunny @pedro-pedrito-pascalito

[canirove]

Friends, lovers… and an orange | Epilogue

Author's note: And we've made it to the end! 😞 I must confess I was very insecure about this story when I started posting it and I still kind of am, I know it isn't one of my bests 😅 So the fact that you guys have read it and supported it, means a lot more than usual. I hope you like this last chapter (it finally explains what the orange on the title means 😅), and again, thank you very much for reading 💜

Previous chapter

Masterlist

A few years later…

“Mase, we are gonna be late for dinner.”

“We won't. C'mon.”

“Can we at least walk a bit slower? You know heels aren't my thing, and on grass…”

“Then grab my arm. But c'mon, Addie. I don't want us to miss the sunset.”

“It's just the sunset, Mase” she chuckled as they continued walking through the gardens of their Italian villa. Because after all the summers they had spent there, and all the things they had lived and that had made it feel like it was their second home, Mason and Adele had decided to buy it. 

“Today is your birthday, Addie. Everything about it is special.”

“I see… Is that the reason why you've made us all dress so fancy tonight?”

“Exactly. Only the best for the woman I love” Mason smiled, his dimple showing. 

The previous year they had celebrated Adele's birthday at the beach with a big barbecue, their friends and families wearing just their swimsuits. But this year, for whatever the reason, Mason had been super picky and planned everything for everyone to the point that he had made a schedule with all the things they were going to do throughout the day. He had even booked a day just for Adele, their mums, Jourdan and Rianne, where they had gone to a spa and then to shop their outfits for the big day. 

“Ok, so, umm…” Mason said when they made it to the spot he had chosen for them to watch the sunset. “Remember when I came to Italy to shoot my perfume campaign?”

“How to forget the perfume that started it all” she chuckled.

“Yeah” he smiled. “Well, half of the team was Spanish, and during lunch time we were talking about relationships and things like that, and one guy explained that in Spain to say that you've found your other half, you say you've found your media naranja.”

“Your what?” she laughed.

“My Spanish sucks, ok? Don't make fun of me” he replied, sticking out his tongue. “The literal translation would be to find your half an orange.”

“That's… weird.”

“It actually isn't. You are half an orange, and someone else is the other half of that orange. When you meet and get together, you make an orange, you complete the other. And that reminded me of us.”

“Are you calling me half an orange?” 

“Addie…” he sighed. “I'm trying to be romantic and you are making fun of me.”

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Please continue.”

“Oranges have always been important to us. Our first kiss was under this very same orange tree. A perfume that smelled like oranges got us into a mess that led us to getting closer and to you falling in love with me. And it was here again, under this tree, where I confessed my feelings for you, which also led us to finally being together.”

“Yeah, finally” she smiled.

“So yes, Addie” Mason said, taking her hands on his. “You are half an orange. My half an orange. And together we make the most perfect one, an orange that was always destined to be made of those two halfs, of you and I. Of us together. Like you once said years ago, we are soulmates.”

“We are” she smiled.

“And because you are my soulmate, my media naranja” he said with his bad Spanish, making her laugh while letting go of her hands and getting on one knee. “Adele Antonia Turlington, would you marry me?”

“Mase” she gasped when she saw the little box on his hand, the most beautiful ring inside it. “Mase I… I… Yes.”

“Yes?” he asked, his smile growing bigger by the second, his dimples showing in all their glory. 

“Yes” she repeated, tears already rolling down her cheeks. “Yes and a million times yes. I love you, Mason” she said after he stood up and put the ring on her finger. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

“I think you are gonna have to say it again, I didn't hear you” he smirked, wrapping his arms around her waist.

“I love you, Mason. My soulmate, my half an orange, my everything.”

“I love you too, Addie” he smiled before kissing her, cheers and clapping being heard somewhere.

“What… what was that?” Adele asked.

“That has to be our family and friends.”

“What?”

“They were watching” Mason said.

“What?” she repeated, this time louder.

“I wanted to remember this moment, so I asked them to hide and film it and take photos.”

“Aww, Mase.”

“Cute, uh?” he smirked. “But there is more.”

“More?”

“More” he smiled before taking the hand where her new ring was shining and starting to walk towards where the voices had come from.

“Mase, what… What is all this?” Adele asked him. 

“Our wedding.”

“Our what?”

“I know we just literally got engaged, but I don't want to wait, Addie. I want to marry you and make it official in front of everyone we love that I want to spend the rest of my life with you as your husband.”

“You… what… I…” she mumbled, looking from Mason to where their parents, their brothers, and some of their closest friends, like Jourdan and Rianne, were waiting for them. 

But they weren't the only thing that was making Adele's eyes be about to pop from their sockets. They were standing next to an arch made with white flowers and orange details, the sea and the town nearby being perfectly framed behind it. It was simple, but stunning. 

“Is this the reason why you've been acting so weird this whole trip and being so annoying with your schedule? Because you were planning it all?” she asked. 

“Yeah… Sorry about that” Mason said. “But I was so nervous, Addie. I wanted it all to be perfect. And I know you probably had in mind something bigger, something with more flowers and live music and…”

“I love it, Mase” Adele cut him. 

“Really?”

“Yes” she nodded, trying to not start crying again. 

“Then do you want to do it? Do you want to marry me?”

“I already said yes, didn't I?” she chuckled, showing him her ring. 

“You did, yes” he smiled. “Shall we, then?”

“Yes” Adele smiled back.

“Ok. Then wait here, I'm gonna tell everyone” Mason said before running towards their family and friends, leaving Adele alone with her thoughts. 

She was going to marry him. Him, Mason, her Mase. And she was about to do it in her favourite place in the whole wide world, the Italian villa where they had made so many memories together, the one that meant so much to them and that now was their home too. 

“I believe this is for you” Luca said, meeting Adele and giving her a big bouquet of flowers that matched the ones on the arch.

“Thank you” she smiled. “But shouldn't be dad the one walking me to the altar?”

“Love you too, sis” he replied, rolling his eyes.

“I didn't mean it like that, Luca. You know I love you and that you are my favourite little brother.”

“I am the only little brother you have, Addie.”

“Alex has always been like a little brother to me too.”

“Yeah, try to fix it now” he said, trying to look mad.

“I love you, Luca” Adele said, caressing his cheek. 

“I know you do, Addie. I know” he smiled. “Anyway, should we do this? I think Mason is starting to fear you may run away.”

“I'm not running away, you idiot” she said, hitting her brother.

“Ouch!” he complained. “You do love him, don't you, sis?”

“With my whole heart” she said, looking at where Mason was standing, Toni trying to tame his hair. “But you still haven't told me why dad isn't walking me.”

“Oh, that. He's marrying you.”

“What?”

“Yeah” Luca said. “He got some kind of certificate and is legally allowed to do it. So, ready to become Adele Mount?” 

“I'm not changing my last name, Luca.”

“Good” he smiled. “Then let's do this.” 

“Yes” Adele said, taking the arm her brother was offering her, her heart beating so fast in her chest she felt it was going to break her ribs. And as she got closer to where Mason was, she felt it could actually happen.

“You look gorgeous, Addie” he said.

“I look the same I did five minutes ago” she chuckled. 

“Are you ready, guys?” Adele's dad said, making them stop looking at each other like two idiots. 

“Ready” they both said. 

The ceremony didn't last long. Her dad gave a little speech, Jourdan sang one of their favourite songs (she had always been an amazing singer), and they exchanged their vows and the rings.

“And now I pronounce you husband and wife” Adele's dad said. “You may kiss the bride.” 

“Finally” Mason said, wrapping his hands around her waist and making her lean back like they do in movies, all while she laughed and held onto him. “How was that for our first kiss as husband and wife?” he asked against her lips.

“Perfect” she smiled.

“Just so you know, it is going to be the first kiss of many. Because I'm gonna be kissing you for the rest of our very very long lives together… wife” he smirked, his left cheek dimple showing.

“Looking forward to it… husband” she giggled.

“I love you, Addie” he said, brushing his nose against hers.

“I love you too, Mase” she replied before kissing him again. 

━━━━❃━━━━ FIN ━━━━❃━━━━

[astralhope]

This is a little project that I worked on in the last weeks, and I finally finished it.

The Japanese dub is my favorite, but the Italian one was the one that made me discover Zexal, and I used to watch the show in Italian until the third arc.

I watched the episodes from the first two arcs in this dub many times and I'm still very attached to most of the characters' Italian voices.

This dub is very dear and nostalgic to me, so I wanted to share some Astral's clips from it on my blog.

But I didn't want to put a bunch of Italian clips here without any kind of subtitles, so I decided to do the subtitles myself. But what should have been just a few clips became all Astral's scenes in the first two episodes, and it took me more time than I anticipated.

Just a few things before you watch the video:

- I tried to do this translation more literally possible (so I apologize if some lines sound weird), but with some phrases and expressions I had to translate them in a not literal way to keep their meaning.

- The edit of the video is a little rough because I favored the audio over the video and I tried not to cut the lines too much. And since I only used Astral's clips, some transactions between scenes are not very smooth, I apologize about that.

- I hope that the subtitles are easy to read, I never did something like this and I did my best to make them readable and not too fast.

- I rewatched it several times to check it, but it's very possible that there's still some errors or/and weird phrasing, so I apologize in advance for any errors.

After all those premises, here is the finished work:

Astral's clips from episodes 1 and 2 of Zexal in Italian dub (with English subs):

(I'm sorry for the bad quality, but not only the original videos were in a low quality, but I also had to lower it even more to upload it)

[portaltothevoid]

you're losing me part iv -- copia x reader, ex!terzo x reader

Summary: Your cheating ex is the leader of the Satanic church and you caused a scene in front of the whole congregation. You've been summoned to meet with him, alone, to be served your punishment. Turns out, you're destined for more than you could ever imagine...

A/N: buckle up buttercups, you're in for a doozy. please read the warnings. also this is my first time writing real smut please be nice to me. this little idea i had has grown into something i never thought it would and it is my overflowing cup of reason to live juice. and yes i switched gifs around because i'm new here and found the perfect one for part iii soooo did a little switcheroo. ps there’s a lot of lyrical easter eggs for my fellow swifties

songs: coney island by tswizzle, tempt me by stone nobles (please check out this band, i beg of you. trust me.)

word count: 8.4k (😬😬😬)

warnings: (this chapter deals with some dark stuff) dubcon, manipulation, talk of self-sabotage, flashbacks, oral (f!receving), fingering, p in v, rough sex, choking, fingers in mouth, allusion to panty-sniffing kink (kinda), horror elements, allusion to degradation (the bad kind), female reader, terzo heavy, google translate latin, some google translate italian (i took it in high school but that was forever ago, so i tried?)

“A summons?” you gasped jumping up from the couch. “A summons?! Oh, great. Perfect. Wait, what exactly is a summons?” 

“It’s a meeting with Papa… alone…” Copia said, his voice balancing on the edge of feigned calmness and panic.

“Why the fuck does he need to see me alone? He can’t excommunicate me without witnesses, right? …Right?!” Your voice was rising in pitch as you started to pace around the living room. 

“I-I don’t know, tesoro. No matter what happens, eh, I don’t think he’ll let you go that… easily.”

“Okay, okay, we just have to remain calm and- and think about this rationally. I-it could just be the slap on the wrist for the outburst, right?”

“Maybe…”

“Then again, if I’m alone in his office it’ll probably be a slap across my ass,” you grumbled, rolling your eyes. Copia couldn’t even respond, he just made a growling sound from deep inside his chest. You held your hands up defensively. “I’m just saying.”

“If so much as lays one finger on you–”

“He won’t,” you interrupted. “What happened after I left mass?”

“I got up to run after you and the fucker, very condescendingly, reminded me…” he trailed off as a realization smacked him across the face. “He reminded me I was to lead the closing prayer, which he assigned to me at the last minute. Cazzo! Quel figlio di puttana (Fuck! That son of a bitch…) planned this. He knows what he’s fucking doing,” he fumed.  “That’s why he couldn’t wipe that fucking smirk off his face.”

“Oh fucking hell, we are so fucked,” you groaned, sitting back down on the couch with your head in your hands.

“Eh, maybe not if we’re already figuring out his plan?”

“True... Okay, so… we just have to think like Terzo.” A repulsed shiver went down your spine at that thought alone. “His comment to me was planned. He wanted to get under my skin. Point for him. I spat wine in his face and told him to fuck off in front of literally everyone. Point for me. But he was testing me to see my reaction or maybe it was just to test your reaction, or both? Either way, it didn’t matter because he made it so your duties came first no matter what I did… Point for him. He’s in the lead and now I’m gonna have to be in his office tomorrow. Great. Just fucking great.”

“So he’s going after me now too…” Copia sighed as he ran his hands through his hair.

“N-no. Not just you.” Your voice faltered as you felt your insides do a somersault. A realization of your own drained every emotion from your face. “He’s going after us. He’s going– He’s gonna try and break us apart.” Copia looked up at you, dumbfounded. Of course. Of course that’s exactly what Terzo was doing. 

“If he can’t have you, no one can…”

“Do you remember what a big fucking deal it was to get me on the books for living with him?” Copia nodded, not liking where this was going. “I… I never officially moved out… I just… came here. He’s… he’s going to reassign my living quarters tomorrow. That's what this has to be about.”

“Oh Satana mio…(Oh my Satan)”

“Call Sister Imperator. Right now. She can rush the paperwork, can't she?”

“Amore, even if we could, he’d still have to sign off on it in the morning,” he sighed.

“I can’t just sit here and wait for morning. Even if that’s not what the summons is going to be about, at least let’s cover our asses. Now… Call. Her.”

He ignored the warmth that traveled up his body from you being stern and demanding with him and started the call to their superior. She answered right away and you were sitting on the edge of the couch. “H-hi, uh, hello, Seestor. I’m sorry it’s so la– Sì. She received the summons… Eh, sì, that’s why I’m calling you… No… Okie dokie, Seestor.” He hung up the phone after that.

“Did you really just ‘okie dokie’ Sister Imperator?”

Copia just shrugged. “She’s expecting us in her office.”

“Hmph!” you hummed triumphantly as you got up. “Told ya we needed to call her.”

He rolled his eyes at your gloating. “Andiamo, anidamo (let’s go, let’s go),” he said as he placed a hand on the small of your back, letting you lead the way out of the apartment.  

Copia knocked swiftly on Imperator’s door. Seconds later it was opened. “Come in. Quickly!” she hissed. The Sister took her seat at her desk, while you and Copia sat in the chairs in front of her. She stared at you, her lips pursed. “That was some stunt you pulled at mass today, Sister.” 

“I-I… he… I’m–” you stuttered and then abruptly shut up when she held her hand up.

“I knew of the nature of your relationship with Papa and I know that it is no longer. I know of the infidelity… on both your parts. Save the apologies. I heard what he said to you. When I was your age… I would have acted similarly… I did not bring you both here because of that incident. Clearly Papa Emeritus III is out of control and it’s only going to get worse.” She spoke matter-of-factly. There was no animosity in her voice towards you, this was strictly business.

“I think he’s going to try to separate Copia and I,” you blurted out quickly. You winced at the frantic tone of your voice.

“Yes I know. I have your room transfer papers ready. Luckily, it’s before midnight, so tomorrow he won’t have a say in where you end up since this is already being put in motion. Sign here and here,” she pointed with her pen as she spoke and handed a clipboard over to Copia who then passed it to you.

“Do you… do you know what else is going to happen tomorrow? At the summoning?” you questioned timidly.

“No. I only caught wind about the transfer. But, Sister, you must be prepared. We are thwarting his plans. Whatever happens tomorrow, you cannot retaliate via a spectacle. I am fully on your side here, but we need to bide our time.”

“So… What? I’m just supposed to take the public humiliation and whatever else he’s gonna throw in my face?”

“I think what Seestor is trying to say, cara, is that behind closed doors you can say anything you want to him, but whatever you say to him, we don’t know if he will retaliate right then or wait to strike,” Copia said calmly.

Sister Imperator gave a short nod in agreement. “Your reactions have to be calculated. You cannot let your emotions get the best of you in the moment. You’ve done so well holding yourself together, I know you are capable of this.”

You felt the weight of everything come crashing down on you, overwhelming you. All you could do was chew on the inside of your cheek.

“I know you know this more than anyone, Sister,” Imperator continued, “Terzo is out of control and out of line. This is becoming nothing but a game to him. As Papa, he feels no one has the power to tell him no. At the rate he is going, he will only bring ruin to this Ministry. And I, for one, will do everything in my power to keep that from happening. I know Cardinal Copia feels the same.”

He nodded. “Sì, Seestor. I do.”

“I will do whatever it takes, Sister.”

“Do you know why your role is so vital to this?” Sister Imperator questioned. You shook your head. “You were the only one that could tame Terzo. For a while, I had thought we found our solution to our problems with him. But he is a wild animal. No amount of domestication will tame that beast. You also possess magical and ritual talents well beyond your years. You are a very valuable asset to the church as a whole. If all goes according to plan, your efforts will be regarded in the highest favor from the Dark Lord himself, I’m sure.”

You were too stunned by her praise to notice that Copia shifted uncomfortably. Sister Imperator shot a glare at him to stop before you looked up from your hands. “I– Um, thank you, Sister.”

She gave you a stiff nod as she began to organize the papers on her desk. “Oh, and, Sister? Should anything happen to you, be it comments or gestures, report it to myself or Cardinal Copia. Immediately. If I am preoccupied, tell someone or myself that you have a very important document for me to review. Understood?”

“Yes, Sister,” you nodded.

“Very well then. I will have this processed and on Papa’s desk by sun rise.”

Copia got up and bowed to Sister Imperator. He held out his hand for you to take your leave. Just as you both were a step away from the door, you turned back to her desk. “Sister Imperator?” you asked innocently.

“Hmm?” she murmured without looking up at you.

“Thank you,” you said sincerely.

She finally looked up at you, her eyes darting between you and Copia. An uncharacteristically warm smile spread across her face. “No need to thank me yet.” Her demeanor turned back to its usual stoicness. “Now go get some rest. The both of you. You’ll need it.”

~~~~~ 

Even though you somehow managed to fall asleep, you felt like as soon as you drifted off, you heard the incessant beeping of Copia’s alarm. You rolled to face the ceiling and groaned, but didn’t allow yourself any more time in bed. You wanted this over with. You had no idea what was about to happen. Delaying it wasn’t going to solve any problems. Reluctantly, you got up and showered quickly, putting on your makeup afterwards. While Copia got ready for the day, you searched your side of the closet, trying to decide the best approach for this summons.

Earlier last week, while Terzo was tied up in meetings, you and one of your favorite Ghouls went back to the place you once called home and packed up the rest of your things. When you brought in the last box, and the Ghoul was to return to his post, he gave you his signature straight-lined, toothy smile, something he rarely did around humans. He stood at your side and wrapped his arms around your shoulders, nuzzling his head into you. The affection was so endearing you didn’t mind his mask slightly clunking against your head.

“Thank you for always being there for me, Swiss,” you told him. He had caught you crying on more than one occasion, always wiping your tears away or badly misbehaving around Papa when he realized that’s who was the reason for your sadness. “Don’t forget about me, okay?” you laughed delicately. The Ghoul put both their hands over their heart and shook their head. How could they ever forget the one person who treated them like an equal and not as just a devout servant or like some kind of pet? 

His shoulders slumped when it was time for him to go. You put your hand on the side of his arm, giving it a gentle squeeze and said, “Be on your worst behavior for Papa. Be the best little shit I know you can be for me, alright?” He perked up and nodded excitedly, happily accepting this task from you. “There we go, that’s my favorite Ghoul,” you smiled warmly and scratched under his chin as his tail swished. He flashed you one more of his signature smiles before turning heel and heading back.

You sighed. “I miss the Ghouls,” you grumbled as you continued to flip through all the clothes you had hanging. You could wear something plain, albeit respectful, just what all the Sisters wore day-to-day. Maybe something more formal… But then you found it. It was a dress you saved for special occasions and events and luckily for you, you had yet to wear this one. A devilish smile went across your face. 

Looking in the mirror, smoothing out any stray wrinkles, you nodded to yourself. You looked hotter than hell. You had your wimple on, but pulled some hair out to have it frame your face. You fluffed your bangs, then applied your red lipstick. Yeah, this’ll do.

You walked out of your room, causing Copia to look up from his phone. He almost choked on his coffee at the sight of you.

The dress was a black satin that hugged your body. Leaving very little to the imagination, it had a plunging neckline and an open back. Its asymmetrical hem fell just above your left ankle, while the right side hit the top of your thigh, showing off your whole leg when you walked. On that leg, you had a garter with a single Grucifix dangling from it, made of black diamonds. It had been a gift from Terzo, you only hoped it added insult to injury. For shoes you wore simple, black, strappy stilettos. 

“Y-you’re wearing that for h-him?” he stuttered in shock.

You grinned a Cheshire cat smile as you walked over to him. Tilting his head to the side you were on, you leaned down and kissed him. Your hand trailing down his chest, a finger dragging across where his pants started under his cassock. “Oh, caro, this dress isn’t for him. I’m dressing for revenge.” You dragged the hand holding his head across his jawline as you pulled away. “You got a little…” you said quietly as you used your thumb to wipe the corner of his mouth. He could only stare at you as you walked towards the door. His eyes wide and filled with lust. “Meet me back here for lunch,” you said, your tone commanding. You looked over your shoulder with a delightfully sinful grin to see Copia nodding fervently. 

Just before you stepped out to leave, he called out, “Be careful, amore. Per favore.”

“Always am,” you responded as you shut the door. Taking one long, deep breath, you began your trek to the summons.

Dark Lord, give me the strength to mask my emotions, to not let them overpower my actions. Please, give me your strength and guidance to get through this. Nema, you thought to yourself, eyes closed and focused as you stood outside his office and set your intention. You elegantly knocked on the door.

“Entra.”

Let the battle begin. 

He sat with his elbows on his desk, chin perched in his folded hands. You felt him eyeing you as you walked over to the chair across from him, sizing you up. His face dropped slightly, taken aback by your appearance. His lust for you consuming him.

“You did this all for me, sorella? Or would you still prefer I call you tesoro mio?” His voice was sultry, dripping with sweet honey. It made you sick.

“Sorella is fine, Papa. You summoned me, I only thought it best to wear something more formal,” you smiled politely. 

“I always did like the way you think…” he mused under his breath, but still loud enough for you to hear. You ignored the comment. “Do you know why I summoned you, tesorino?” 

Your expression held firm as you kept your air of professionalism intact. “I can only assume it has to do with the incident from mass.”

“Actually, I wanted to discuss your living arrangements. But you see, a very curious thing happened. There were already papers on my desk dealing with just that. Isn't it funny how quickly things can get done when you know the right people, hmm?”

“I see it as a blessing. The Dark Lord works in mysterious ways.”

“That He does, that He does…” his smile showed he was impressed by your response and ability to dodge the question, but his tone suggested he knew the move was calculated. “Well, with that out of the way now, I suppose we have time to talk.” He looked at you through his lashes. He softened, his voice quieter. Was this his way of waving the white flag? You weren’t talking to Papa now, you had Terzo in front of you. The real Terzo. However, you weren’t about to drop your guard so easily.

“What is there to talk about, Papa?”

He shook his head, his expression forlorn. “This isn’t business anymore.” When he looked up at you, he dropped any and every mask he was wearing. Even behind his papal paints, you could see how broken and defeated he actually was. “You left… and then I returned home one day and… every trace of you was gone. Poof. As if you were never there. As if we never happened…” he took a deep breath, it was unsteady. He bit his lip in an effort to control his emotions. You stared numbly at him. “Do you remember the first night I stayed with you? When you were sick?” he whispered.

Of course you remembered. How could you forget? You had a nasty cold. You texted him early that day, telling him you were sick and you’d have to reschedule dinner. He told you to rest and get better and that he would see you soon. You didn’t think ‘soon’ meant him showing up at your door later that evening with two quart containers of minestrone soup (that he made himself from his nonna’s recipe (and with Primo’s guidance)) and a bouquet of flowers.  

“What are we watching, tesoro?” he asked as he settled in behind you, holding you, arm wrapped around your waist. You felt guilty having him there. 

“You really don’t have to stay. I mean I don't want to get you sick and… Really, I’m fine on my own, especially now that I have soup!” 

“Amore. Just because you do well on your own doesn’t mean you have to be on your own, hm? I'm here because I want to be, because la mia ragazza preferita (my favorite girl) is sick. If we fall asleep watching tv, then we sleep! There’s no use arguing with me, you know,” he said as he pulled you closer to him and pressed gentle kisses on your neck. “I'm staying– right– here.” His voice was muffled from barely taking his mouth away from your neck as he punctuated each word with a kiss. The affection made you bubble with laughter.

“I'm glad you’re here,” you said shyly. It was at that moment you knew you had a difficult conversation ahead of you. One that could make or break your relationship with Terzo, but you were falling for him. Hard. Nothing could stop your momentum. He had a reputation and if he loved you like he said he did, he’d commit to you. Wouldn’t he?

He let out a content sigh that pulled you out of your thoughts. He nuzzled into your shoulder. “Sono tua. Tutta tua.” He paused before adding, “Solo tua.” You froze. Did he read your mind? Did he feel the same as you? (I am yours. All yours. Only yours.)

“Solo mia? Davvero?” (Only mine? Really?)

“Sì. Sì,” he murmured affectionately as he placed a kiss on your temple. “There's no one else I want to share my time with. You’re all I think about, all I dream about, amore. You ground me. Make me feel like… I'm not… I’m not as— You make me feel like I'm worth loving. I want… us… I want to be esclusivi with you.” A sudden bashfulness came over him that you had never seen before. He was also so cool and collected, but you could tell just from the sound of his voice and the way he was fidgeting, tapping his fingers on your arm as he spoke that he was nervous.

You rolled over and cupped his face, searching his eyes with nothing but adoration. “Promise me then. Promise me, I’ll be the only one. Promise me, I’ll be your only one.”

“Te lo prometto. I promise you. You have my word, amata.”  

 “If you get sick this is on you. It’s so not my fault,” you jested as you poked his chest. 

His eyes lit up. “Will you take care of me if I do?” 

You swept his bangs away from his eyes. “Certo, amore.” His eyes scanned your face like he was trying to remember every single detail of it. “Okay, then I have no regrets about doing this and accept the consequences,” you added as you grabbed his face and kissed him. He deepened the kiss, turning and pulling you on top of him. You couldn’t help but giggle. This was it. You both were in it for the long haul. There was no going back now. 

You pursed your lips and rolled them together as you tore yourself away from the now painful memory. You couldn’t help but wonder, if that was the long haul then how’d you end up here so soon? 

“I do… but forgive me, what does that have to do with anything?”

He was focused on his hands in front of him as he anxiously tapped his fingers together. “Could you ever look at me again the way you did that night? Could you ever love me again?”

“Do you know how many nights I spent wondering where that Terzo had gone?” you snapped as you countered his amative question with one of your own that had been frozen in ice.

“I have always been here, tesoro,” he mumbled, avoiding your eyes again.

“Do you remember what you said to me that night? What you promised me? How you were all mine? Only mine?”

“Sì, ricordo (I remember)…” he muttered. The quietness of the room made your ears ring. With so many conflicting emotions running through your veins, the strongest made your blood begin to simmer.

“Then why? Why wasn’t I ever enough for you?” The questions flew out of your mouth before you could even debate betraying your strictly-business-like demeanor. Your voice tinged with desperation, devastation, and nostalgic longing. You wanted to hate Terzo. You wanted to. Most of the time now you did, but here he was in front of you. You sacrificed so much for him, for your relationship, you set all politics aside. Right now, you merely wanted answers to the thoughts that had kept you lying awake countless nights.  

His breath got caught in his throat. It was as if he physically reacted to your words piercing through his heart. He stared at you, mouth slightly hung open in shock at both your question and the revelation of the consequence of his actions that it brought. Suddenly, he was on his feet, gliding over to you. Your chair had been far enough away from the desk that he was able to kneel in front of you. He placed his gloved hands on your knees. 

Your jaw clenched. You saw right through what he was trying to do. Act as if it was the first time you confronted him. The first time you caught him. 

The memory flooded your senses making you relive the moment when you returned to your apartment and sat at the table, waiting for the door to open. You didn’t even bother to turn on a light. Copia had walked you back after he literally ran into you as you tried to flee from one of your worst nightmares. It had taken you an hour or so to even begin to calm down. The clock neared eleven and he still wasn’t home. 

He expected to find you already asleep, but he saw you waiting for him, still dressed, makeup ruined. The rage and hurt that radiated off you hit him like a brick wall as soon as he walked in and turned on the light. “Amore, what are you–”

“How was your day?” you asked plainly, staring at your hands folded in front of you.

“Lots of meetings,” he let out a tired sigh. 

“Your last one ran really late. Is everything okay?” 

He froze for a split second as he started to take off his gloves. He cleared his throat. “Yes, you know, just lots of red tape to sort through while the Ghost tour is being planned.” His voice became just unsteady enough to let you know he feared this was becoming an interrogation.

You nodded. “Hm, I thought that meeting was scheduled for next week.” For the first time since he returned, you looked over at him. You shrugged nonchalantly, turning away from him to look at your hands again. 

“I-it got moved up suddenly. Mi dispiace, I thought someone had told you…” he muttered, making his way to the bedroom.

“Ah, yes, I’m sure Sister Thérèse just got tied up with someone… I mean something else. I haven’t seen much of her lately, or at all really, though I’m sure you have.” You turned to see him come to a complete standstill the moment your tone darkened. Slowly, he turned to you. He opened his mouth to stutter out something, but your voice was sharp as a sword. “Don’t.”

“I can explain–”

“Oh, I’m sure you can. There just has to be a reasonable explanation as to why you were balls deep inside her in a random office. And I’m sure there’s another for why the door was left ajar. Usually I would have just kept walking, but there was this very distinctive, very familiar voice. ‘È tutto. Ragazza bene. Sì, sei la mia ragazza preferita. È tutto (That’s it. Good girl. Yes, you’re my favorite girl. That’s it),’” you did your best mocking-impression of him you could muster. “I thought ‘Hmm, I’ve heard that somewhere before. There’s no way it could be..’ Well, sure enough, peaking through that crack in the door, there you were! And now… here we are.”  You were so beyond furious that you appeared calm.

He stood there, still frozen, locked in place. You could see the fear in his eyes. If it weren’t the papal paints on his face you could have seen his color fade. When he finally was able to speak, his voice wavered, sounding close to a whimper. “Are… are you going to leave me?”

Your fists clenched and you let out a huff of air. “I’ve thought about it, but given the nature of everything, I just can’t up and leave you.” A silence hung in the air. “How the fuck did it get to this point?” Your voice cracked as you repressed the tears that started to rise to the surface.

He jolted forward, rushing to you, kneeling in front of you, taking your hands in his. “Please, please, amore. I’d– I’ll do anything for you. Amata mia. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Mi dispiace. Mi dispiace.” Sobs rippled through him as he cried at your feet. All you wanted to do was pull him up by his hair and slap him so hard across the face, it would have woken the whole floor up, then scream at him to stop crying. You knew you couldn’t do that. That wasn’t you. So you sat there, silent and stoic, your whole body tense.

After he calmed himself down slightly, his watery eyes gazed up to your towering form. “You promised me,” you breathed through your teeth out of fear that any extra movement would cause you to break down just as he had. You refused to give him the satisfaction. 

“I know. I know I did. I… I ruined everything.”

“Why, Terzo? Why did you do it?”

“I… Non lo so.” His lips barely moved as he breathed out words you didn’t care to hear.

You slammed your fist on the table, abruptly pushing yourself out of your chair, needing to get away from his touch. “When are you gonna fucking let me in, Terzo? Huh? This whole ‘us’ thing really won’t work if you don’t ever tell me what the fuck is going on!”

“I-I-I don’t know! She was just there! And– and I knew how wrong it was. I know… but I couldn’t stop. I… I was bored and–”

“You… you were… You– You were bored,” you scoffed. “So I bore you enough to go fuck a  wanna be Prime Mover whore?”

His head dropped in his hands. He moved them up through his hair which he gripped so tightly his knuckles turned white and shook his head. “That’s not what I meant,” he groaned.

“Ooh, do enlighten me then!”

“I can’t tell you why I did it, because I don’t know. Veramente (Truly), I don’t know. It’s just– Everything was going so well. Perfect almost. You were taking everything being thrown at you in stride. Your ideas for Ghost, the way you keep me on track, the way you… You were just you. Always there. Always by my side.”

“So you just had to go and fuck it up.”

His shoulders slumped, his jaw clenched. “I don’t deserve you, tesoro. I never did…”

There it was. There was the answer to the multi-million dollar question. You felt your heart shatter as he sat there in his hurt. You scurried over to him, dropping to your knees, holding his face between your hands. With a shake, you forced his dichromatic eyes to find yours. “But you do, Terzo. You do. Satan, I give you everything I have, every day, to show you that.” He turned his head away from you. Your words only made him feel like you were proving his point. “Look at me,” you commanded with another shake. “Before I came here, I didn’t have anything or anyone. I had nothing. When I found you… when you took an interest in me, the kind of person who never had the guts to stand out or be noticed, who didn’t even think they were special enough to catch anyone’s attention, never mind yours… It’s because of you I can even see myself in a different light. Don’t you think someone capable of that deserves someone just as special?”

The kindest words that were ever said to him, the most genuine words, always came from you. He loved you more than anything he could possibly imagine. He knew lately he’d done a piss poor job of proving that to you. He could see the cuts he was inflicting on you. He hated himself for it. He needed you by his side for so many reasons. He needed you to keep him in line. If you ever stopped… If he ever let himself completely lose control… If you ever left him… He couldn’t even imagine the monster he would become.

You didn’t know the depths of the internal battle he was waging on himself, you saw enough of it on his face to know his struggle was heart-wrenching. You loved him. Yes, he royally fucked up, but you still loved him. “We can work through this,” you whispered, moving yourself to intercept his blank stare.

“Will you ever trust me again?”

You winced at the memory. Everytime he came close to regaining your trust, he would do something to break it. Over and over again. 

“It was never you who wasn’t good enough, amata mia. You know that,” he purred as his satin covered hands slid up your thighs, taking your dress with them slowly. He paused as his fingers brushed your garter. He toyed with the Grucifix that dangled from it. That he had given you. He smiled affectionately at it, before his devil may care smirk returned. You wearing that wasn’t an insult to him. It was a sign of subconscious devotion. 

This was the real Terzo. You chastised yourself for falling for it, yet again. Always a wolf in sheep’s clothing, a lesson you just couldn’t seem to learn. “I am the one who was never worthy of you.” His eyes were locked onto your core. He then stood up, parting your legs by wedging himself between them. As he did so, he dragged his dual-toned irises up your body until they locked with yours. His pupils fully blown out, his breathing became heavier. His lust could only be described as animalistic.

Your words formed a lump in your throat, unable to escape.

He towered over you. His hands grazed along the sides of your entire body. He ripped off your wimple. Your face scrunched at his roughness. One hand, then, settled around your neck, squeezing it, as he put his mouth by your ear. “There is so much for you to learn. So much I have to teach you, demonino mio.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, roaring thunderously in your ears. You felt your blood go from a simmer to boiling. “I’m not your little demon,” you growled as you spat in his face. The hand on your throat swiftly moved to your chin, his grip painful enough to fear it might bruise. He forced you to look at him, to look at his knowing smirk. He knew something you were clueless about. 

“Mmm, C’è la mia ragazza (there’s my girl),” he cooed. He kept your face locked in place as he licked your spit off his face, making you watch. Your eyes burned with a ferocity you’ve never felt before. “Satanas, I’ve missed you,” he sighed.

He breathed out a laugh as he unexpectedly dropped to his knees again. Your dress had already moved up so much, nothing was hidden. He pushed your legs open wider as he dove between them, running his nose along your core, inhaling deeply.

“Terzo, stop,” you demanded, trying to squirm your way out of his hold.

“You know you don’t want me to.” He moved up slightly, so his throat was flush against you. When he spoke, it sent undeniably pleasurable shockwaves through you. 

“No. Fucking stop! No!” You tried to leap up and push him away from you, but he was stronger and faster. Easily he took your arms and pinned you to the chair, of which you were barely sitting on the edge of in your struggle. 

His eyes darkened, his head swayed back and forth as he tutted at you. “Sei stata una ragazza molto cattiva (you have been a very bad girl).” Your arms would surely bruise as he put even more of his weight onto them, further constricting his vice grip he had on you. Relentlessly you still tried to wriggle your way out of his grasp. 

Stop fighting, my child… A calming, almost sultry voice, yet somehow also one of safety, rang through your mind.

Terzo pushed his face into the crook of your neck, biting down where it met your shoulder. You cried out as you continued your attempts to writhe away from the monster in front of you. He licked the mark and dragged his tongue all the way up your neck, sucking on the sensitive spot behind your ear. The line between pain and pleasure was beginning to blur. “If you keep trying to fight me, la mia stellina oscura (my little dark star), or you so much as breathe one word of this to a certain Caridnale, he will find himself back in Italia for a very, very long time…” Your body ceased movement. His stronghold on you loosened as he descended once again. “Ora, dimmi, amore, that you don’t want this (Now, tell me, love).”

Give into temptation, my child. The voice rang out again, echoing throughout your mind like a spell to sedate your frayed nerves. You hadn’t the faintest idea why, but this time, you trusted the ethereal voice. You stopped fighting. 

Terzo returned to his spot between your legs, humming appreciatively. “Oh, guarda. I can see how much you already want this. Sporco bugiardo (You dirty liar),” he taunted as he ran his finger along the wet patch that had started to pool in your underwear, your body betraying you. While his thumb ran circles around your clit, your breath hitched involuntarily. Your eyes shut, your head turning away in shame. You couldn’t bear to actually watch this.

He teased you, dragging his finger up and down your lace-covered slit, before covering you with the palm of his hand. Now he moved his whole hand in slow, circular motion. He was satisfied when your wetness had completely soaked through your underwear. Next thing you knew, he tore them off you, tossing them over his shoulder onto the desk behind him. 

His arm wrapped around your thigh, securing it in place. You couldn’t help but let out a gasp as you felt his tongue circle your clit. His brows furrowed and he let out a sharp huff when he noticed you weren’t watching him work. With his free hand, he grabbed your chin brutishly again, forcing you to keep your eyes on him. You hated the force he was using. You hated seeing the insatiable hunger in his lustful eyes. You hated him. But that all paled in comparison to how much you hated the part of your desire that got caught in the wildfire of your rage.

Once he felt you understood his wordless message, he let go of your chin. Stubborn as ever, and with admirable restraint, you refused to let out the mewls and moans that perilously needed to, biting your cheek until a metallic taste tickled your tongue. The little control you had snapped like an old rubber band when he inserted the first finger inside you. Your hips bucked, craving more friction. The smoothness of his satin glove drove you as mad as it had countless times before. Your breaths became shallow and rapid as he pushed another finger inside you. Pawing at your sweet spot he knew as well as the back of his own hand, you now writhed from the remorseful pleasure. You didn’t even have time to register the smirk he made just before he snuck in a third finger. 

“Satanas!” you tried to hiss, but it dissolved on your tongue into a moan. Your eyes slammed shut as your head fell back. Then all movement stopped. You dragged your head up to resume the eye contact he demanded. He stayed frozen, the only movement he made was the one eyebrow he raised, his look expectant of you. You scowled, but in a moment of forgotten animosity, you reached to brush away the hair that had sloppily fallen in his face. “P-please, don’t stop. Please. I need–” that was enough for him to resume with furious intensity. 

You found purchase by running your hand through his hair, gripping it so tightly your knuckles went white. As you pushed his head into you, needing even more friction, more pressure, you could feel his fleeting smile before he resumed concentration. “Fuck! T-terz-zo, fuck!” you mewled, the pressure unbearable. You were about to unravel in his hands. “I’m go–” you started to say, but the words died in your mouth just as quickly as he stopped. 

He leered over you. He pulled you up by your wrist and grabbed you by your waist. He held you there for a moment, your body flush against his. “You are mine,” he commanded, his voice gravelly. Suddenly he turned you around, pushing you down, bending you over his desk. Your arms caught you as you fell forward. You could hear him undoing his pants and then felt his hand wipe some of your slick off to rub on his dick. A faint, breathy moan escaped his lips as he lined himself up with you. “You will always– be– mine,” he growled as he thrusted into you, punctuating each word with another hard thrust. You cried out in delirious pleasure that overrode the pain of him emphatically bottoming out inside you each time. “È tutto. Ragazza bene. Sì, sei la mia ragazza preferita. È tutto,” he moaned in your ear, repeating what you had overheard him say the first time you found him with another in this very same position.

You reached for the edge of the desk to try and brace yourself, but he pushed his fingers into your mouth, hooking into your cheek. You could taste yourself on his soaked gloves. His pace faltered just slightly as he reached for your wrist and pulled you against him. You moaned around his hand, eyes rolling back, at the slight change in position. 

Tears leaked from your eyes due to the overstimulation. You were so close, so, so close. You could feel your pending orgasm building, about ready to explode like a dying star. It had never been like this with him before. Not with Terzo, not with anyone. 

Sure, you liked it rough from time to time, but this… this was awakening something else inside you. And it was solely from the sex, it was everything surmounting together: the infidelity, the degradation both public and private, the manipulation… It felt like a caged animal, a beast, which deep down you knew had always lurked inside you just waiting to be set free, waiting for the right time to emerge from your darkest shadows. There was still guilt bubbling up inside you that longed for this to be over, but… you couldn’t deny it, and you would never admit it. This excited you; it terrified you. 

His gruff whisper pulled you back to reality, “Voglio che tu venga per me, amore mio… il mio unico vero amore. Vieni. (I want you to come for me, my love… my only true love. Come.)” 

You felt yourself erupt, crying out with the force of a hundred hell hounds as your walls pulsated around him, as the most sinful pleasure rippled through your entire body. He kept going with his relentless, starved pace. Only when he spilled himself inside you, did he let up and remove his hand from your mouth. Your cheek, sore, as you tried to adjust your jaw back to normal, tonguing where you still felt the impressions of his fingers. 

You stayed there, bent over, laying on the desk. Your bones felt as if they had been liquified. He hummed behind you, pleased with his work. Using the back of his hands, he brushed them up the inside of your legs before wiping both hands along your cunt, gathering whatever excess of fluids his gloves would lap up in one swipe. He removed his gloves, tossing them on the desk beside you. You could hear the soft splat sound they made when they landed near your discarded underwear. His bare hand slapped your ass and you jumped as the sting radiated through you. 

Tucking his dick back in his pants and buttoning them up, you could feel him looming over you. You only dragged yourself up to stand when his statue-like presence caused your skin to crawl. Your eyes turned to slits as you turned to face him.

Hooking his finger under your chin, his thumb cleaned up the corners of your mouth. His other hand wiped away the tears that stained your flushed cheeks. “I think your incident at mass can be overlooked now, sì?” he snickered. 

The attrition from what had just transpired came crashing down on you like a tsunami causing ripple effects of shame and guilt to wash over you. Suddenly, your breathing became heavy. There was a fire inside your chest that blazed hot enough to burn this entire Abbey to the ground in minutes.  

Through temptation has your wrath been spurred. For your sacrifice… you will be… rewarded, that mysterious voice whispered to you again as your body started to shake from the electricity of your fury.

“Ask me again how I could ever love you,” you snarled as you stood up to adjust your dress in a feeble attempt to cover yourself.

“Oh, dolcezza,” his honeyed croon made you want to grab him by the hair and smash his face into the desk behind you. You never knew where these violent thoughts came from, so out of pocket for you. It was gasoline being added to the flames of your wrath. Your hand twitched, almost as if you were about to do it… You were pulled out of your thoughts by his sickly sweet voice. “You have no idea of the power that you possess.” He gently caressed your face, his eyes searching you as if he could see the power he spoke of, as if he was trying to find it. When his knowing smirk shrouded his face again, you had had enough of his bullshit.

You forcefully slapped his hand away from you. You could hear the sting, “Rot in hell, figlio di puttana,” you sneered as you turned to make your exit.

“Only if you’re beside me, amata mia,” he chuckled, rubbing his hand where you hit him, getting too much enjoyment and satisfaction from your reaction. You accepted that you had no idea who the man standing in front of you was or if you ever did and that thought alone only infuriated you even more. He shut up completely when you turned around and glared at him. He could see darkness starting to cloud your eyes. He shook it off, opening his mouth when you only had one more step before you were out of this office. “Oh, amore,” he started, his tone went from casual to sinister, causing you to freeze where you stood. “I mean it, you know, you utter a single syllable of this to Copia, and he’s gone. Sei mio (you are mine).” 

Your boiling blood instantly turned to ice. You turned around painstakingly slow. Your rigid body and movements were enough to send shivers down Terzo’s spine. You couldn’t feel it. You had no idea it was happening. The fury of hell shone through your eyes as Terzo watched them fill with black smoke until your eyes turned to dark voids before him. “And I’ll make you wish that I never was.”

You watched as Terzo went slack jawed and his eyes turned into saucers from shock. The anger you felt, the wrath coursed through you like an electric current, was the only thing you cared about. Although you did revel in the fact that he looked terrified enough to cry, you were too wrapped up in your emotions to care.

“I-is that a th-threat, amore?” he stuttered, failing to keep his composure.

“It’s a fucking promise,” you growled, your voice dropping several octaves, sounding borderline inhuman. Terzo stumbled backwards, his hands reaching out behind him to clutch his desk. All you could see was red. 

You almost ripped the door off its hinges as you stormed out, leaving it open. You were barely aware of where you were storming off to or that there were two Ghouls making their way towards Terzo’s office. In the haze of your rage, you almost missed how they stopped in their tracks and kneeled the second they saw you. When “Your Eminence,” sounded in your mind from two different and distinct voices as you were a few paces in front of them, your gait slowed. Still bending at the knee, they nodded to you as you passed by. Looking down at them, your brow furrowed for a moment, never having seen this kind of behavior from any Ghoul before. You returned their gesture with a curt, singular nod. They got up to resume going to wherever they were headed and you continued on your war path. Behind you, still watching from his office doorway at the end of the hall, Terzo’s jaw was just about on the floor. He scrambled to get to his phone.

Two Sisters of Sin saw you barreling towards them. Quickly, they moved to the side, but when they saw you up close, they both let out a gasp. You shot them a look only causing them to cower. Once you passed them, they ran down the hall as if they were running for their lives. Your brow furrowed again. “What the fuck…?” you muttered to yourself.  

You didn’t have time for this. Terzo said you couldn’t tell Copia about what happened. He never said anything about Sister Imperator. When you reached her office you didn’t even bother to knock, scaring the daylights of her from the sudden burst of noise and movements. Then the color drained from her at the sight of you.

This time, you slammed the door behind you. Sister Imperator backed herself up until she hit the wall. You stood in there for a moment, your breaths coming out in short huffs, almost like pants. Your eyes looked crazed as you widened them. It was like two black holes were staring at Sister Imperator, threatening to destroy anything that got in their way. Chills ran up and down her spine. “Sister, y-your ey– uh…” she sputtered, her breathing becoming shallow. She tried to ignore the tightening feeling in her chest. She swallowed, even though her throat had gone dry. “Sister, w-what happened?”

You charged forward, slamming your hands on her desk, rattling everything on it. She winced and brought her hands up to her chest, clutching her Grucifix rosary beads that hung around her neck. A malevolent sneer etched onto your face. “Terzo happened,” you growled, although this time, it actually sounded like your own voice. 

You pushed off her desk and began pacing, slowly, deliberating, as if you were trying to both calm down and calculate something. When you gathered your thoughts and paused, turning to directly face the panicked clergy member, your words sounded nothing less than a warning. 

“Imperator, I don’t know what game you and Copia and Lucifer knows who else are playing with Terzo… and I don’t exactly know my role in it,” you clenched your jaw, speaking through your teeth, “since no one cares to divulge that information.” You took a deep breath and regained composure as you feigned innocence. “I only care about how it ends. Do you know how it will end, Sister?” Her mouth hung agape. Any sound that tried to escape was nowhere to be found. She could only shake her head in response. You leaned forward onto the desk again, you slowly pulled your chin in, but you kept your gaze locked on hers, your eyes now almost looking up at her. A smile wider than a cheshire cat’s grew on your face. If Sister Imperator didn’t believe in evil, she certainly did now. “It’s going to end with his head on my altar.”

taglist: @da-rulah @fishwithtitz @ivycasket @water-ghoulette (drop a comment if you'd like to be added!)

part iii | part v

[willalove75]

Rebecca x fem!reader, where Rebecca keeps calling reader pet names in a different language and leaves reader curious as to what they mean.

Also, how does it feel to carry the entire Rebecca x reader fandom on your back???💕💕

The way I literally laughed SO HARD when I first read this hahahahah

I have absolutely no fucking idea how this happened but I am SO grateful that everyone has liked my fics so much 😂🥺

And I LOVE this idea! Thank you so much for the requests! 💕

Translations (in order of appearance, also I used a lot of Google translate so apologies for any incorrect translations.):

Cara mia - Italian - My Beloved (yes its an Addams Family reference, I would be insane to pass this up such a perfect opportunity)

Bichita - Spanish - Little bug

Ti piace quando parlo in lingue diverse? - Italian - You like when I speak in different languages?

Mon petit chouchou - French - My little cabbage

Draga mea - Romanian - My darling (yes this is also a reference to Lady Dimitrescu, once again I would be insane to pass up the opportunity)

Tu aimes quand je parle dans différentes langues? - French - You like when I speak in different languages?

Ti accende l'amore? - Italian - Does that turn you on love?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It's been a few weeks since your relationship with Rebecca went public, the news spread like wildfire across the office. It was uncomfortable for the first week or so, you got a lot of weird stares and head a bunch of whispers as you waked by, more buzzing emerged whenever you were spotted with Rebecca, which was often since you were her assistant.

"Cara mia don't pay them any attention." Rebecca says, looking down at you with a smile on her face.

You lift your gaze from the floor up to her and gently smile at her, she wraps her arm around you and you make your way to her office.

"You would think there would be new office gossip for them to move on to." You say, a little frustrated.

"Love, you're sleeping with your boss, I'm sleeping with my assistant. I don't think it's going to be one of those things that blows over quickly."

You cross your arms and frown, it's been exhausting trying to dodge everyone's stares and gossip, you just want it to end. She stands up from her desk and wraps her arms around you.

"Oh bichita, it'll be okay. Just give it some time."

You look up at her and smile, wrapping your arms around her waist.

"What?" She asks.

"Noting, I have no idea what 'bichita' means, but I love hearing you speak different languages. It's pretty sexy actually."

"Ti piace quando parlo in lingue diverse?"

"I have no idea what you just said, but I could listen to you say it all day." You say with a laugh, she laughs and leans down and kisses you.

She sits back down at her desk and you take a seat in one of the chairs in front of her. You open up your notebook and go through the list of meetings she has for the rest of the week, as well as plans you've added into her calendar for after work.

"Three meetings Wednesday, one at 11am, the other at 2pm."

"Ugh I'm not looking forward to those- wait, what's the third meeting?"

"Well the third is kind of a twofer, 7pm and 9pm."

She gives you a look.

"Dinner at 7 and," you look back through your notes "miscellaneous physical activity at 9pm."

Rebecca starts laughing and puts her hands in her face, you start laughing too along with her.

"What am I gonna do with you?" She says shaking her head, still laughing.

"Anything you want." You say as you playfully stick your tongue out at her.

She rests her face on her hand and looks at you with a smile on her face.

"Oh how I adore you." She says with a smile. Her eyes shift to the door and she sits up. "Leslie, good morning."

"Good morning Rebecca, y/n, I heard some interesting scuttlebutt on my way in this morning."

"Please tell me they've stopped talking about Rebecca and I." You say, although you already know the answer.

Higgins looks at you and back to Rebecca. "I'm afraid not, it actually is scuttlebutt about the two of you." He says cautiously.

"Ugh." You say as you put your head down on Rebecca's desk.

"Aw, mon petit chouchou," she says as you feel her fingers run through your hair.

"Aw." Higgins says, sounding like he understood what she said.

"What does that mean?" You ask as you look up at Rebecca.

"My little cabbage." Higgins says, you look over at him and he has his hand over his heart.

"What? A cabbage?" You look back at Rebecca, confused.

"It's a French term of endearment love." She says with a smile.

"French is fucking weird." You look back over at Higgins. "So what did you hear?"

"Well, the rumor is that Rebecca is moving in with you."

You look over at her and she chuckles. "Oh no, we're not there yet, plus, when we do move in together, y/n will be moving in with me."

"I feel like I should be offended at that." You say with a laugh.

"Oh please, you and I both know my house is much bigger and nicer than your flat." You give her a look. "As charming and lovely as it is." She quickly adds.

"I guess that's fair." You say rolling your eyes at her. "Wait, did you say 'when we move in together'?"

"I did." She says with a smile.

You both chat with Higgins some more and you get on with your day.

A few days later you're walking through the hall and you see Rebecca walking towards you.

"Ah, there you are." She says with a smile.

"Hi baby!"

She wraps her arms around you and you wrap your arms around her waist and look up into her eyes. A few of your coworkers walk by and you hear whispers as they pass by.

"Ugh." You say as you rest your head on her shoulder.

"Come with me." She says as she grabs your hand. She walks a few feet down the hall and looks both ways to see if there's anyone nearby. When the coast is clear she pulls you into a supply closet and shuts the door behind you.

"What are you-"

"Shhh." She says bringing her finger to your lips. She holds your face in her hands and gazes into your eyes. "I couldn't wait until later." She whispers.

"Rebecca-" your words are cut off when her lips meet yours, you melt into the kiss, your hands holding onto her hips.

She flicks her tongue across your lips and you part them, letting her in. You gently moan into her mouth when her tongue meets yours and you feel her smile as she kisses you. You gently suck on her bottom lip and kiss alongside her jaw and down her neck. She takes a sharp breath in as you nip at her neck and then suck on the spot, you're probably going to leave a mark but right now that's the last thing either of you are thinking about. You kiss further down her neck and over her collarbone, she runs her fingers through your hair and grabs at the hair at the back of your head. You kiss further down her chest and between her breasts, your chin resting on the lowest point of her v neck shirt. You kiss and suckle on the exposed skin of her cleavage and she throws her head back.

"Mmm, draga mea, you are perfection."

"Don't stop, talk to me in every language you know." You purr as you kiss every inch of her exposed skin.

"Tu aimes quand je parle dans différentes langues?"

You smile as you kiss your way back up her neck.

"Ti accende l'amore?"

Your lips meet hers once more and she kisses you hard, her tongue immediately exploring your mouth. She pins you against the shelf behind you, her hands gripping your hips, she moves her lips to your neck and begins kissing and gently biting at your skin. You grab the hair on back of her head and bite down on your lip desperately trying to hold back a moan. One starts to slip out and she catches it in her mouth, pressing her lips against yours. You're desperate for her touch but you don't want her lips to move off of yours. You both feel like you're in your own world where only the two of you exist, you usually feel like this when you're with her, especially when you're being intimate in any way.

You're blinded by a bright light when you realize someone opened the closet door, you and Rebecca jump and you see one of your coworkers, completely in shock. They immediately close the door and you hear their footsteps quickly walk down the hall. After the initial shock, you both look at each other and laugh, you lay your head into Rebecca's chest.

"Oh nooo." You whine.

"Nous sommes baisés." She says as she wraps her arms around you.

"What does that mean?"

"We're fucked."

You both laugh as you hold each other, your burning face buried into her.

"We sure are."

[allforthegamelovers]

I was thirteen in 2016 when I discovered All for the game , but since Italian is my first language and I wasn't very skilled yet in English, I used to watch gacha video about it, they were in Russian or in English as well, I couldn't understand anything but I really liked it anyway and I went searching for it but I wasn't very lucky since it was in English, and I wanted to wait for an Italian translation. So in 2020 I was more skilled in English but, read wasn't really my thing but I continued watching it on youtube, and looking at the art. Still waiting and praying for a Italian translation.

And then I continued like this, since the start of the year of 2024, when I looked on Amazon to see if there was an Italian translation, but there isn't unfortunately, i casually woke up and I said "wait a Goddamned minute, I understand and I can read well in English, so i can finally buy it" and then i wait to have a little of money and boom i bought it and in less than 3 days i literally devoured the books. No that this might interest anyone but I wanted to say it hahahah.

[alystar00]

Hello everyone.

Some time ago I made a post here, complaining about the translation of the names from the book series of Kingdom of Fantasy. I read the book in Italian and the names were translated, and it was damn difficult to me to understand who was who.

It needed a guide and I decided to do it. For writing but also for anyone who is curious about the original Italian names and all (it was also asked by @e-adlirez and @rizahawkeye1380 so here we are)

So let's begin. You'll find in red the English names, in blue the Italian ones, in orange the name that stayed the same.

The first book known as The Kingdom of Fantasy, in Italian is called Nel Regno della Fantasia (almost word-to-word translation, "nel" means "in" but we're there). I found a copy of the English book, so I put under there the English names and the Italian names of the characters (I will use the list of the Order of the Fairy Queen):

Geronimo Stilton has the same name in both languages.

Scribblehopper in italian is Scribacchinus Scribacchius (surname and name respectively, both referring to "scrivere" and/or "scribacchiare", that is writing but without much attention). Apparently in the English version there is only one name

Shelly is Fiordalga (literally "flower of seaweed")

Princess Scatterbrain is Principessa Zolfilla (her name refers to "zolfo", in English sulfur)

Trick is Tric (Why did they add a k?)

Factual is Boletus (I don't know what italian word it is referring)

Cozy is Fritillaria (The name refers to frittelle, aka italian sweets)

Giant is Gigante (literal translation)

Blinkette is Lucilla (refers to light so it's good)

It's not in the list but I also add:

Cackle in Italian is Stria (looking for her name I found out that there are changes between the italian and the english version. They added a full line. And changed the one following. Alright I guess?)

Queen Blossom is Regina Floridiana (refers to flowers so it's fine again)

The second book in English is called The Quest for Paradise, while in Italian it's called Secondo Viaggio nel Regno della Fantasia (literally "second voyage in the Kingdom of Fantasy). They both have a second title apparently: in English is "The return to the Kingdom of Fantasy", in Italian is "Alla ricerca della felicità" (The pursuit of happyness. That's what google translate sais). In Italian it's the only book that has another title, as far as I remember.

Here is the list of the characters:

The Dragon of the Rainbow in Italian is Drago dell'Arcobaleno (literal translation)

Goose Blahblah is Oca Quaquà (in Italian that's the sound geese do. Blahblah is fitting though)

Boils is Pustola (it means pimple)

Snowy Dawn is Nives Albacandida (Albacandida is not just Dawn, it's like candid dawn, but yeah)

Oscar Roach is Oscar Afaggio (that's a pun because in italian cockroach is "scarafaggio"). To those that don't know this, he's deaf (apparently in the English version they just... Deleted that part)

Rocket is Aliseus (the English one doesn't really hit the same to me tbh)

The third book in English is The Amazing Voyage. In Italian is simply Terzo Viaggio nel Regno della Fantasia (Thirs voyage to the Kingdom of Fantasy). Another thing I didn't mentioned: the English and Italian books have different covers. It's damn confusing.

Here is the list:

King Thunderhorn is Re Robur (the English one is more powerful I see)

Strongheart the Giant is Il Gigante Fortecuore (why the presentation mention a falcon?? I don't have it in italian. What.)

Sterling is Alys

Puss in Boots is Il Gatto con gli Stivali

Horizon is Alghiera (it refers again to seaweed)

Beatrice Bigfoot is Clodovingia Merovea (okay something big happened here)

Not in the list but I add Grim (oh my god what a name), that in Italian is Amarius (referring to Amore that is Love)

The fourth book is called The Dragon Prophecy, in Italian Quarto Viaggio nel Regno della Fantasia. The new characters are the following:

Sparkle is Scintilla (literal translation)

Bitsy Luckybug is Fortunella Trifoglina (refers to Fortuna, or Luck, and Trifoglio, or clover)

Mixy von Troll or Frullatrulla (It's not really what the name means but okay)

The fifth book is called The Volcano of Fire, in Italian Quinto Viaggio nel Regno della Fantasia. Here the list of the new names:

Emerald is Laowyn (they could keep it why did they change it)

Professor Longwind is Lapis de' Tromboni (Trombone is the music instrument)

Explanatorium is Tomo Primo (first volume)

Sproutness is Gaja (WHYYYYYYYY)

The sixth book is called The Search for Treasure, in italian Sesto Viaggio nel Regno della Fantasia. This has a new cast:

Coraline is Fata Acquaria (it's a fairy, acquaria refers to water and aquariums)

Blue Rider is Drago Blu (why isn't he called Blue Dragon??)

Tenderheart is Melissa

Honor is Veridia (it refers to "verità", that means Truth)

Harper is Allegra Garrula (I don't know what Garrula refers to but it's not about harp I think)

Clearfeathers is Bussolino (refers to "bussola" , that is compass)

The witch of this book is called Scorcher, in Italian Vermelia. They kept the name of Azul.

The seventh book is called The Enchanted Charms, in Italian Settimo Viaggio nel Regno della Fantasia. Here is the list of the new characters:

Tessa is L'Antichissima (the ancient-est). She doesn't have an actual name in Italian

Firebeard is Gnomo Barbadifuoco (literal translation)

Blizzard is Lupo Bianco (literally White Wolf)

Crystal is Usignolo di Cristallo (Crystal Nightingale)

The Maiden of the Tapestry is La Fanciulla dell'Arazzo (literal translation)

Sid is Il Calamarone Gigante (literally just The Giant Squid. I can't believe they called him Sid like the Ice Age one)

I add to the list Chatterclaws of the Seven Seas, in Italian Gronghio dei Sette Mari (Gronghio is similar to "granchio", in English crab). The Wizard of the Black Pearl is called like that also in Italian (Il mago della Perla Nera).

The eighth book is called The Hour of Magic, in Italian Ottavo Viaggio nel Regno della Fantasia. Here the list:

Little Princess Buzzy is Principessina Bizzz (pretty accurate)

Queenie is Regina dei Sangueverde (literally Queen of the Greenblood)

Solitaire is Solitario (translated)

Dragon of Time is Drago del Tempo (translated)

Hee Haw is Tic Tac (Tic Tac refers to the sound of clocks, that make sense in the Land of Time. Strange change)

The enemy is Eclipse, in Italian Eclisse.

The ninth book is The Wizard's Wand, in Italia Nono Viaggio nel Regno della Fantasia. There are only two new characters:

Invisible Cloak is Mantellino Invisibile (in Italian Cloak is Mantello, Mantellino is Little Cloak)

Cleverwing is Corvazzo Corvù (these words are both referring to "corvo", or Crow. The English book says raven, I don't know the difference between the two names)

The enemy here is Longbeard the Wizard, in Italian Mago Barbanera (Wizard Blackbeard).

The tenth book is calked The Ship of Secrets, in italia Decimo Viaggio nel Regno della Fantasia. Here is the list of the new characters:

Sweet Melinda is Melisenda la Dolce

The Dragonfly Princesses is Le Principesse Libellulanti

Wink is Occhiolino (all of these are word to word)

The pirate enemy is Captain Sammy Shorttail, in Italian [Capitano] Rattonero Codamozza (the literal translation should be like "cutted tail black rat"). The actual enemy is calles Whopping Wizard, or Il Magigante in Italian (literally Giant Wizard).

Okay, so, from here we go to the two bigger adventures. The first is called The Phoenix of Destiny: An Epic Kingdom of Fantasy Adventure. In Italian it's called Grande Ritorno nel Regno della Fantasia (literally Great Return in the Kingdom of Fantasy). We don't have a list of characters, but to be fair, Geronimo is basically alone the whole book (in fact I can't really add anyone).

The enemy here is Blossom's sister, Wither, that in Italian is Neridiana (kinda opposite to Floridiana, but refers to Black in the name)

Then we have the second epic adventure. In English is called The Dragon of Fortune, in Italian simply Grande Ritorno nel Regno della Fantasia 2 (we have a lot of imagination with titles, as you can see /sarc). I also notice that these book have the same book cover in both versions, thank god.

Here we have:

The Secret Alliance and its members: Blossom, Mel the Magnificent (Randulf il Magnifico), The Clever Chameleon (Saggio Salamander. Saggio means Wise) and The Lady of Dreams (La Signora dei Sogni).

We have as Geronimo's companion Wolfy, in Italian Lupazia (her friends are called Owlivia, Roxy Foxy and Beartina, aka Civettaria, Vulpilla and Ursula)

Lightbright, the Dragon of Fortune, that in Italian is Luminar, il Drago Stellato (Starry Dragon)

The Ghost Guardian is Il Paladin Fantasma

These are the main ones I think. There are so many characters but this post is already too long.

The next book in English is called The Guardian of the Realm: The Eleventh Adventure in the Kingdom of Fantasy. In Italian this is not the eleventh volume (I guess I'll find it later). In Italian it's called Nel Regno della Fantasia: Il Grande Segreto (The Big Secret).

It's kinda difficult to find the characters. We have from the last book (as enemies) Grosselda Grimwitch (Stregonza Fattucchionza) and Menace, the Chattering Cat (Nerone, il Gatto Chiacchierone).

We have a new enemy that is Crowbar the Cruel, in italian Corvidius degli Oscurissimi (Corvidius refers to crows/ravens again, Oscurissimi is a family name. Oscuro means dark).

Aaaaand we have Blossom's daughter! In English she's called Winglet, in Italian Alina.

The next book is Island of Dragons. In Italian this is the eleventh voyage and it's called Undicesimo Viaggio nel Regno della Fantasia. Again, we don't have the list of characters. If I'm not wrong, we have just two Geronimo's companions and their name are Nibbler, or Rosicchio, and Jazzy, or Gilli.

The enemy is Darkrock, in Italian Petrascura.

The next book in English is called The Battle for Crystal Castle. In Italian it's called L'Impero della Fantasia (The Empire of Fantasy). Again, no list of characters but let's find the new ones:

Flamelet, or Fiammetta

Lorian kept the original name (yay!)

Foxlyn the stingy fox is Volpara la volpe avara

Creasely Wrinkledom is Grinza De Rughis

Mossy is Verdaria (all the names are pretty much translated)

In Italy we also have another volume called I Custodi del Regno della Fantasia, that is a sequel of the one above. I don't think it has been translated in English. No spoilers but I hope you will read it in the future 'cause it has literary characters in there (and an improbable ship!)

Okay, the list have ended. It was HELL and it took me like four hours, but I did it. It's also a useful guide to translate names for fanfictions.

(I did not include here the Chronicles of Kingdom of Fantasy. At least I think it's the name in English. It's the six book series where Geronimo doesn't appear at all and has a more serious writing)

And that's all.

[selkies-world]

How to write bilingual characters when you're not bilingual

I've seen this come back up pretty often recently, so I figured I'd make this post to help some of yous out.

I'm a polyglot, I grew up using Makaton, speaking English and Gaelic, I understand Scots though I don't usually speak it. I went to a multilingual school, where we learned a new language every term (4 languages a year) and had the EAL students & teachers teach us their language. We had to use the language the school was learning when we passed each other in the hallway, when we went into a different classroom to fetch or ask for something, when a different member of staff came into the room and when we were stopped by teachers in the hallways. Sometimes we had to use it in the lunch hall, too. We had to be able to understand & reciprocate basic conversation level skills in whichever language was being taught that term. In addition, classes 5, 6 and 7 also learned individual languages which we had to be able to read, write and understand music in as well as converse in more advanced ways.

From 11 through my teens, I taught myself Italian to near fluency, as well as BSL and Scottish Gaelic. I have varying levels of understanding in Russian, very minimal French and Japanese, and conversational German.

(If you're interested in how I learned these languages, check out this post I made and this article I wrote.)

I'm saying this so that you understand when I say: I KNOW HOW BILINGUAL CHARACTERS WORK.

So here's some suggestions on how to write bilingual characters realistically, arranged in no particular order.

We don't forget how to "switch back", so please fuck off with that concept. (Example: "Va bene," Kelsi said. "Huh?" Harry asked, and Kelsi laughed, embarrassed. "Sorry," she said. "I forget to switch back sometimes. "I meant; it's fine.") We don't do this.

HOWEVER, something close to this that we do do is forget which language we're speaking, and jump between two, usually fucking the grammar up as we go. (Example: "It's bene," Kelsi said, and Harry squinted at her. "Huh?" he asked. Kelsi looked at him, confused. "What?" she asked, and he fought a smile. "It's be-nay?" Harry repeated, and Kelsi stared at him before grimacing as she muttered under her breath. "It's fine," she said, louder. "I meant to say it's fine.") This is more realistic than us "forgetting to switch back".

Another thing that can look like us forgetting to switch back is when we get upset and the language part of our brain just. Nopes tf out. (Example: xxxx) [THIS EXAMPLE WAS TAKEN FROM MY BOOK!!! THAT I PUBLISHED!!!! ONLY 1 CHARACTER HAS ENGLISH AS HER FIRST LANGUAGE!!!!! ALL THE OTHERS ARE BILINGUAL AND GAY!!!!]

We forget basic words for shit, and only remember them in other languages. (Example: "- tie your... thing," Henry said, faltering, and Jess raised her eyebrows at him. "My... thing," she repeated, and Henry gestured vaguely to her shoes. "Your thing. The..." He muttered under his breath. Jess only looked at him, not understanding. Exasperated, Henry gestured to her shoes again. "The string thing! In your shoes. The... the fingers. The finger strings. The... the shoe belts! The- just the thing!" Jess was grinning at him as she laughed quietly. "Do you mean my shoe laces?" she asked. Henry nodded, though he wasn't entirely convinced that was the right term, either, now that he was hearing it.)

From that, we usually forget the common term for something, but we'll remember the literal translation from another language, or the literal description of it. (Example: "hey do you have any... uhm... bee puke?" "WHAT?!" "I want to put it in my toast." "WHAT THE HELL IS BEE PUKE?!?! WHY WOULD YOU WANT THAT ON YOUR TOAST - WHY WOULD YOU WANT TO EAT IT?!?!?!!?" "Everyone eats it? It's super sweet. And golden, and drippy?" "It sounds disgusting." "HONEY. I MEANT HONEY! THAT'S THE NAME OF IT!")

Another version of this is saying the sound or action the thing does, rather than the name of the thing itself. (Example: "OMG your bark-bark is so cute!" "You... mean my dog?" "Isn't that what I said?")

This is all I can think of atm, but feel free to ask any questions about bilingual / polyglot characters!

[aloysiavirgata]

Thanks to @numinousmysteries for tagging me! I had never checked these stats before!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

92

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

484,620

3. What fandoms do you write for?

I’ve written for Hannibal, Battlestar Galactica, The Fall, and The X-Files, but only The X-Files at this point.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

The Parting Glass (smut)

Animus Possidendi (dark smut)

The Common Fate of All Things Rare (casefile, cowritten)

Lacuna (casefile)

This Her Fever (cancer arc)

5. Do you respond to comments?

Yes and no. Not like I should. I am so deeply, truly grateful for every single one.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Well, I killed William in Inhaling the Different Dawn, but that wasn’t at the end.

Maybe Where The Vines Cling Crimson? Scully’s cancer comes back and her fate is ambiguous. And I had Scully kill Emily in Alabaster Stones. But I think that was the right ending for both of them.

As a mother? A Basket of Reeds, where Scully gives William away. I can’t even reread it without a lump in my throat, man.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Tent of Shelter is fluffy and lovely gets a lot of love, and was inspired by a STUNNING manip by @avocadoave but I personally think In The Gale. It’s the one that, to me, feels the most like a grownup relationship of two people processing some trauma. I think that’s an ending that’s happy and also real - like “I don’t love being broken, but I can survive being broken with you.” Two abeyances that lean…

Foxfire for similar reasons. I real love that little story, which I wrote thanks to @perplexistan

I’m 43. I’ve been married for well over two decades and let me tell you that young love is a gift and mature love is a craft.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Some! And that’s really great too, that people read words I wrote and felt so passionately that they left me words about those feelings. What a strange but profound compliment!

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I do. PWP isn’t my personal taste so even though I wrote a LOT of smut for the old pornbattles at LJ I wanted the smut to still tell a story.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

I can’t say it’s especially crazy, but Fern Hill is a Mulder/Stella Gibson crossover. There are a few little ficlets with XF/Silence of the Lambs crossovers in my Inbox Prompts series.

Oh fuck! Wait! I wrote a Fall/Hannibal/XF crossover called Anthemoessa where Stella, Scully, and Bedelia all meet. Okay that’s it. That wins.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Years ago. God, isn’t that sad? To need positive reinforcement that much?

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes! It was SUCH a compliment!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I have - The Common Fate of All Things Rare

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

Mr. Virgata and me. Followed by Fox Mulder and Dana Scully, who literally invented the word. ❤️

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

The Fisher King

16. What are your writing strengths?

I think I do pretty good banter and my education makes me pretty good at the sciencey bits.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I get too lost in descriptions and I try too hard to be clever. I do my best to self edit but sometimes I reread things and I’m like oh my GOD SHUT YOUR PRETENTIOUS ASS UP.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I’ve done it for Bedelia and Hannibal in Italian. I’m not sure I understand the question?

19. First fandom you wrote for?

TXF, my one true love.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

I don’t know that I have a favorite per se. I am most proud of the ones that challenged me to do something outside my comfort zone. Samson is one of mytop fives even though it’s Mulder/Diana. I think I did a nice job. I also wrote Pair of Aces/Double or Nothing which is Scully/Byers.

But I do really love the world of Petrichor and Singing of Mount Abora, and I like the cases.

[gwynrieldreams]

You know who shipped Gwynriel first? Italians because they got access to the book before its release date. The Italians didn’t even have the bonus content, there was no one to influence them with theories or posts, nobody even knew about Gwyn before, yet as soon as they read the book before the rest of the world, they were already buzzing and excited about the potential between a priestess and Azriel. Elriels lost their mind. We still have screenshots of many of their instinctually reactions when they did finally read the books, and many elriels jumped ship.

There was an Elriel who only shared the first half of the bonus and begging people on IG not to jump ship and have faith (it sounds like a cult) but did she think nobody else in the entire fandom wouldn't have the bonus. She claimed later that Tumblr wouldn't let her upload so many images, then do a part 2? It was the lamest excuse. 😂

The only person who has the power to create such a huge following in Gwynriel is Sarah J Maas, because it really is that obvious and Elriels can play ignorant all they way, gaslight all they way, but we remember how they were reacting in private DMs and publicly before they decided to come up with a theory to gaslight themselves and others a few weeks later.

I didn't know that because, even though I read acotar like eight years ago, I wasn't active in the fandom until recently. I shipped gwynriel since I read the book and the bonus was the cherry on top. The theories I read later on just confirmed or added to what I already believed myself. I'd like to see those reactions, though, it must have been so funny.

I heard about that incident with the incomplete chapter. It screams insecurity. I translated the bonus chapters in my native language but didn't feel the need to change anything. People can believe whatever they want, who am I -or anyone- to dictate how they feel. Purposefully changing or "hiding" part of the original text in order to influence others. That's literally propaganda, that's why they never escape the cult accusations.

[meetinginsamarra]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

I've been tagged by @totallysilvergirl and @calaisreno TYSM!!

1. How many works do you have on A03?

51 in total

12 "real" fics and 21 ficlets and 18 covers (I didn't know how to embed on AO3 back then)

2. What's your total A03 word count?

271.977

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Sherlock BBC

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Mutual Attraction , Learn My Scars, The toe that didn´t belong, The embers still glow when I´m sober , Gravity is missing from everything

The last three are in fact a series called Here I Am

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Of course! Always and quickly. I love comments, they make my day and fill me with happiness for hours. Not kidding!

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

None of my fics end angsty. Some of my ficlets might, possibly Time

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

They all end happily.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

There had been a few very weird comments on "Mutual Attraction" that were rude or offensive. Some had been deleted by the cowards who posted them later.

9. Do you write smut?

Yes, I have written porn and enjoyed it. I also write gen and everything in between. Depends on the story.

10. Do you write crossovers?

No, because I define "crossover" as a mix of two existing universes, like Sherlock x Star Trek for example. I have written several AUs though. Alternate Universes with the same characters of my show but placed somewhere else.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I have been offered three times but declined because I personally am not comfortable with it.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No.

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

Johnlock

15. What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I have this fairy tale AU sitting in my drafts for literal years. 20k written and several attempts to take it up again, it is mostly plotted but just resists being finished. *sigh*

16. What are your writing strengths?

Learning by doing, I guess? I think of myself that I am versatile. Maybe writing movie-like action scenes. I remember that's been said in comments.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I honestly do not know. (Which is not me saying I can do everything perfectly!! I just try whatever I want.) Finishing the above mentioned fic possibly.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

If it fits the story, why not? I write in English which is not my native language, so I could do German and some French and Italian, too.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Sherlock BBC.

I've actually never written anything before I started with Sherlock fanfic. I got this idea and it grew and I began to write it down just for me so that I would not forget it. Then I thought, why not write it into a fic? I've been reading a lot fanfic already. Over the course of two years (writing on and off) the idea had turned into a 94k fic. I only started posting "Mutual Attraction" when it was completed on AO3.

I still think it's funny because just imagine this. Never wrote a word of fiction before, not even in my native language. Then, first thing I produced is a novel-length fic written directly in English. Still seems surreal to me.

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

I love all of my babies and will not choose a fave one. There are only faves in categories.

"Mutual Attraction" was my first and longest fic.

"Wretched and Divine" was the one that made me find my dear friend and beta @peageetibbs

Technically, I am most proud of pulling off "Learn My Scars" because it is 38k written under a huge amount of pressure due to daily posting for Whumptober 2022. Five weeks of intense writing madness but very rewarding, too.

AU and plot-twist wise it would be "The 13th Book ".

---------

So many people have done this but I think @shiplocks-of-love @shelleysprometheus @cumbercurlygirl have not been tagged yet. And anybody else who wants to share, please.

[dolce-tenebra-toscana]

La squadra and what languages (other than italian ) i think they might speak:

Risotto ✂️: Greek 🇬🇷

Italy is very close to Greece, and i think Risotto participated to some summer camps with his church group ( his granny had some connections with the local diocese ) and so he spent 4/5 years of his childhood in the island of Corfù. He knows the basics of the language and can keep up with a conversation but if people start talking to fast his brain shuts down and start singing " Ciuri Ciuri " by Roy Paci.

Prosciutto 🍖: French 🇫🇷

Ok so with Prosciutto is a lil complicated; his mother was a piano teacher that traveled a lot in France for concerts and sometimes he hat to attend to ( or do his own recital) and being the son of two cold hearted perfectionists he was supposed to speak fluently the language at first try. At the age of 15 ( when he decided he had enough of his family and ran away to Napoli ) he decided to put his knowledge aside and speak only in italian or the sicilian dialect, cause his hate for the tongue was rooted so deep inside of him. Eventually Risotto found out about it and knows that if he needs someone to translate some documents in french,Prosciutto is the right man!

Melone 🍈: Chinese 🇨🇳

The city of Prato has one of the largest Chinese community in Italy and Melone, being the lil know it all he is, was more than happy to add this skill to his curriculum. He started when he was in university and of course the first thing he tried to do was flirt with the chinese students from the Erasmus program ( his pronounce was terrible at first and received so many slaps in the face ) but the more he practiced the more he actually started enjoying the complexity and history behind the language. Now he uses it when he has to do some hacker jobs or just finding weird sited for his " alone nights "....yes i know, this mann CAN'T be normal.

Illuso 🔎: German 🇩🇪

Illuso's father was born and raised in Dresden but during a lil trip in Torino, was mesmerized by the beauty of an italian brunette...3 months later he found himself living in a loveless marriage with her and their unborn baby. Now, he didn't love his wife but he truly loved his son and he did everything he could to teach young illuso about his german heritage: he spoke to him in german when his wife wasn't around, sang his childhood's lullabies to him, made illuso watch cartoons and read comic books in german...La Squadra's favourite narcissist may act all tough and brag about his high level skills with the language but truth is, he just remembers fondly those memories with his late father.

Ghiaccio 🧊: Finnish 🇫🇮

You just got your driving licence, you are an angry teen from Veneto and your first car is a green Panda 4x4 that you are using to run away from the police after your parents had " a lil accident ". What's the best thing you can do to let some steam out? Hide in the countryside of Emilia-Romagna, roll up a j*int and listen to Finnish heavy metal music. Ghiaccio had some really tough times before joining la Squadra, and had a lot of pent up anger to let out, so he found comfort in finnish music and while he screamed with their lead singers in a very akward imitation of their dialect he actually slowly started to learn that ancient and interesting tongue. Now he can proudly speaks a fluent Finnish and whenever he has occasion he spends time with Risotto, blasting music and doing some wild karaoke.

Formaggio 🧀: Spanish 🇪🇸

Ok cheese man here is the king of flirting, and what language yells sensuality all over the place ( in his mind at least ): spanish~ He spent MONTHS in Ostia Lido, trying to catch the secrets of the iberic latin lovers and how the get all the ladies during his adolescence and now with his arrogan-ehm confidence, roman charm and smooth talking like an italian Ricky Martin he literally has to peel girls from his body. No seriusly 2/3 times the rest of the team thought he wasn't going to get some that night but the moment he starts lowering his voice and speaking spanish, the girl is already swooning in his arms. Watch out this summer chicas~

[winderlylandchime]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Tagged by @lostcol and @madsworld15 thank you friends!

How many works do you have on ao3? 49

What's your total ao3 word count? 505,173

What fandoms do you write for? Currently Queer As Folk. In the past I've also written for CMBYN and CMBYN RPF.

Top five fics by kudos:

tied to a night they never met (CMBYN RPF)

I crossed all the lines and I broke all the rules (CMBYN RPF)

Flo's Shows (CMBYN RPF)

you're like a tattoo (something I can't undo) (QAF)

'cause all I'll ever by is your dirty computer (CMBYN RPF)

Do you respond to comments? I do. Especially because I write for a smaller fandom, most of the commenters are my friends.

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Ya girl wrote MCD so that's pretty angsty: love is so short (forgetting is so long) (QAF)

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Most of my recent fics have happy endings (usually at a party, call it my signature move). I'll link carried me with you (QAF) because people said the ending made them cry (in a happy way). And it's not at a party!

Do you get hate on fics? Not hate but some people were unhappy with I crossed all the lines (linked above) because I left the couple non-monogamous and I got negative comments in the bookmark of my series Exposure (QAF) because it is similar to a friend's series (never mind me mentioning her by name in my author's notes and having her blessing and encouragement to write the series) and because it has an open ending (not with regards to the couple but with regards mental health stuff... which is realistic)

Do you write smut? Yes. I enjoy reading it so I figure I should write what I enjoy. One of the drawbacks of writing in a small fandom where so many of my readers are friends is that I do sometimes hold back on the smutty filth I would write because I can literally picture my readers' faces and that's a bit uncomfortable.

Craziest crossover: I'm writing a QAF / RPDR crossover fic right now ("writing" in the very loosest definition of the word).

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I'm aware of.

Have you ever had a fic translated? No, but I would love that. What an honor.

Have you ever co-written a fic before? Er. Yes. I wrote [redacted] with [redacted] but then [redacted] happened and yada yada yada my name isn't on that fic anymore. I'm not anti-co-writing. But, I would need to know my co-writer much better in advance if I were to agree to it again in the future.

All time favorite ship? Brian/Justin aka Britin from QAF. I also LOVE reading Aziraphale/Crowley from GO but haven't really written for them (one drabble and one ficlet).

What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will? I've Loved Her in Secret, I've Loved Her Out Loud WILL GET FINISHED (manifesting) soooo not that. And there's a CMBYN RPF fic that is unfinished and will remain that way and I'm okay with that (ie I don't want to finish it)

What are your writing strengths? FEELINGS. My bread and butter.

What are your writing weaknesses? I think I'm getting better at dialogue, I used to really struggle with it. So I'm going to say... plot? That's such a weird thing to say, but I am shit at doing complex plots.

Thoughts on dialogue in another language? If it makes sense, do it! Or even words in another language - I know I often slip Italian and Yiddish into conversation here and there if the other language captures a certain je ne sais quoi that english doesn't. (see what I did there?)

First fandom you wrote in? Ya girl was writing Lois/Clark | Superman fic (het fic? by this queer? more likely than you think!) for Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman in the 90s on yahoo listservs.

Favorite fic you've written? I'm very proud of you're like a tattoo (linked above). I'm also proud of beautiful like the darkness between the fireflies some post-canon, modern setting, exes-to-lovers, soft QAF goodness. And I'm also ridiculously happy with Chasing Dragons which is a fanfic of a fanfic but I think stands alone. I feel like I captured the way one of my all-time favorite fic writers writes my all-time favorite characters and I made her ridiculously happy with it and yeah.

I'm no pressure tagging: @sheisraging @bartbarthelme and anyone else who wants to!