#we are all the nihil am I Right

[ladyatomic]

THE EYE OF THE STORM

[snekdood]

If you believe the shit my abuser says about me and use that as your reason to not listen to trans men who are vocal about our issues then you dont care about trans rights. you make all of your moves based off of drama and a desire to keep the clique pristine.

[l4mplight]

Miquella and Trina; A Tragedy

Hey Tumblr. I have a lot of thoughts about Shadow of the Erdtree, and these ones... let's just say I don't think they'd do well on Reddit. It's not often that I feel particularly impacted by a particular fictional character. Usually I connect more with narrative arcs and themes, which is why I think I'm so drawn to the ephemeral, vibes based storytelling of Fromsoft's games. Playing through SOTE, though, I found Miquella (and St Trina) to be extremely emotionally compelling and relatable, and I wasn't sure exactly why. I think I've put my finger on it now though. First of all, know that I am writing from the perspective that Miquella is a sympathetic character. I know that it's not uncommon to read him as a manipulative Machiavellian villain, but I think that's both a misreading of the text as well as just plain boring. Like, he's not a Griffith clone you guys, give From some credit. Anyway, here we go.

"You have no understanding. Of Miquella the Kind. Of St. Trina's Love.

Content Warning: I'll be discussing themes of depression, and the implication of suicidal ideation.

So, a classic Fromsoftware theme is despair, and the ways we cope with a world full of it. It shows up twice in Shadow of the Erdtree; with Midra and the Frenzied Flame, where despair leads to a selfish nihilism that asks us to burn everything down, and with Thiollier and St Trina, who offer sleep as a comfort to the weary. Running a small errand for Thiollier has him say the following.

"If you find yourself… weary of the weight of this life, then just give me the word. Sleep is a balm, and eternal sleep… is an elixir."

Drinking the elixir he offers will, of course, result in an instant death. This is our first encounter with the idea of "Eternal Sleep," a more potent form of the sleep status effect that only appears here in the Shadowlands, after St Trina has been abandoned. The Velvet Sword of St. Trina tells us as much: "Silver sword of St. Trina, now stained the color of velvet. Inflicts eternal sleep. When St. Trina was abandoned, the faint, light-purple mists coalesced into an intoxicating deep-purple cloud." In order to ascend to godhood, Miquella abandons first his physical body, and then the more abstract aspects of himself. As we begin to descend down the fissure where we'll find Trina, a cross marks the spot as the place where Miquella abandoned his love. This connects Trina, "the discarded half" as Thiollier puts it, with Miquella's love. Leda confirms this in her own dialogue:

"St. Trina's love for Kind Miquella is boundless. She is, after all, his other half. Or perhaps her feelings go beyond even that. Even if she was left behind, I doubt her heart would waver."

Keep that in mind, it'll be relevant later.

Near the cross, a spirit offers up some of the most heartbreaking dialogue I've come across so far. The spirit gives us a bigger picture of Miquella's goals:

"Kindly Miquella... I see you've thrown away... something you should not have. Under any circumstances. How will you salvation offer... to those who cannot be saved? When you could not even save your other self?"

I teared up at this. The emotional impacted was aided by the fact that I ran into the spirit right after telling Moore to put his past behind him, leading him to rededicate himself to Miquella. He says:

"Hm. Maybe that’s Kindly Miquella’s love. Love for all the unloved. Love, to banish the pain."

Note here that Moore suggest Miquella's love will "banish the pain." This is also essentially what Trina's sleep does. It's a comfort to those in need. Anyway, between these two instances, we end up with a pretty good picture of the sort of god Miquella wants to become. He was already sympathetic to the outcasts of The Lands Between in the basegame, where he built Elphael and the Haligtree as a haven for those rejected by the Golden Order, such as the Albinaurics and Misbegotten we find there. In the Shadowlands, he has gone a step further. Hornsent tells us that he has committed himself, in essence, to righting Marika's wrongs.

"Miquella has said as much himself – he wishes now to throw it all away. He says the act – though undoubtedly painful – will sear clean the Erdtree’s wanton sin. The truth of his claim can be found at each cross. 'Tis evidence enough to earn my belief."

Of all of Marika's children, Miquella is the only one to see the serious flaws in her empire. Ymir points this out to us as well.

"No matter our efforts, if the roots are rotten, then we have little recourse. Ever-Young Miquella saw things for what they were. He knew his bloodline was tainted, his roots mired in madness. A tragedy if there ever was one. That he would feel compelled to renounce everything when the blame lay squarely with the mother."

My thinking here is aligned with Mother Ymir. You really have to feel for Miquella; he has essentially taken on, alone, the responsibility of making up for centuries of Golden Order imperialism. That's a massive burden to bear, especially for Miquella, cursed with eternal childhood.

(It's easy to miss, but Miquella actually ages up significantly when we see him in god-form. Until he steps back through the Divine Gate, he would have looked and sounded like he does in the introductory art and in ending memory scene. Compare those with how he appears in the boss fight, and it's clear godhood at least helped him reach puberty lol) So we've established that Miquella is the child of Imperial Rome on Steroids, is cursed with eternal childhood, and is an empathetic prodigy with the weight of the world on his shoulders. Surely his mental state is perfectly healthy, right? Right??

Final warning, this is where things get quite sad. Here is where I will try to tie Miquella's arc together with Thiollier and St Trina, and the comforting oblivion and relief from despair that sleep represents for them.

As we search for St Trina, we descend down into the Stone Coffin Fissure. This is a place of death, with massive coffins built into the fissure walls, and Gravebirds, Bloodfiends and Putrescent enemies everywhere. St Trina is found at the deepest possible pit of this fissure, in a swamp of putrescence that has since blossomed into a garden of deep velvet lilies because of her influence. Trina offers us nectar of "eternal sleep," as Thiollier did previously, and as established then, "eternal sleep" is essentially nothing more than a peaceful death. Trina seems to fit in quite well in this place of ancient dead things, with some of the ancient remains even being compelled to fight for her in exchange for eternal rest, becoming the Putrescent Knight.

(Side note for levity because we're about to get sad again; I love this guy. It's a knight made out of the skeleton of a horse, riding on that same horse's decaying flesh goop body. Like, ugh. Beautiful. Plus, it may even have taken that shape because of Trina sharing Miquella's memories of Radahn, who was never far from his horse Leonard...)

We meet St Trina in her garden, and when we imbibe her nectar, we eventually begin to hear her voice in our death-dreams. She seems to pity him. Mourn for him, almost.

"Make Miquella stop... Don't turn the poor thing into a god..."

Trina appears to be in a bad state after her fall. She can only manage to get a few words across to us at once. Just as Leda predicted, her heart hasn't wavered. She is only concerned with Miquella's well-being.

"Godhood would be Miquella's prison. A caged divinity... is beyond saving."

Trina's most pressing concern is that godhood will be a prison for Miquella. Now, this could in theory be because gods are subject to manipulation from the Fingers and the Greater Will or a similar reason, but given that she calls him a "poor thing," I think there is likely a more emotional reason behind Trina's plea. I think that Trina is speaking as the embodiment of Miquella's love, but especially his ability to love and care for himself...

"You must kill Miquella... Grant him forgiveness."

...and she asks us to kill him.

In excising Trina from his being, I think Miquella also expelled the part of himself that was able to recognize how miserable divinity would be for him, and how miserable he was. The part of him that was tired of carrying the responsibilities that his compassion demanded of him. The part of him that was exhausted, despairing and desperate from having failed to cure Malenia, failed to save Godwyn, failed to perfect the Haligtree. St Trina is the part of Miquella that wanted to be stopped, to rest, to sleep, to die. In abandoning her as he does, Miquella is essentially repressing those thoughts and feelings, replacing them with more "selfless" ones; self-sacrifice, suffering on behalf of others, his martyrdom and apotheosis. I don't want to forget about "grant him forgiveness" either. She might mean forgiveness for failing to become a god, for not being good enough to succeed Marika and right her wrings. Maybe forgiveness for failing Malenia and Godwyn, or for leaving the Haligtree behind. Maybe even for abandoning her. But on the road to godhood, Miquella can't afford to indulge in this sort of self-pity. A child craves forgiveness and approval, a god must cast these things out.

"I'm feeling rather lost. Haunted by memories. Of St. Trina. Her visage. Her scent. The lure of velvety sleep. Would Kindly Miquella chasten me? For falling for St. Trina, while knowing that she was the discarded half? The problem is… I simply cannot help it. I would sacrifice everything, just to gaze upon her, one last time."

I want to mention Thiollier one more time here too. His primary visual motif is the long white braids that he wears on his clothes, reminiscent of Miquella and Trina's own signature braids (remember, she looked like an older feminine Miquella before her fall and injury). Thiollier is obsessed with Trina, pursuing her to hear her voice and fade into the comfort of her velvet sleep, though this doesn't kill him like it does us. I don't think Thiollier is connected to Miquella in any textual way, but I think he does serve as a reflection of the sorts of thoughts Miquella may have been surpressing. The self-pity, the need for approval and love, the feelings of weakness and uselessness. These are the things that lead Thiollier to pursue endless slumber.

Thiollier doesn't give in to that despair, however. Though he initially takes St. Trina's words... poorly, he eventually realizes what must be done, and dedicates himself to his new purpose: carrying out her final wish.

"I am here to serve St. Trina evermore. I am deeply sorry. For doubting you. I am here only to grant St. Trina's singular wish. I will stop Miquella the kind. He will never become a god."

This post is already quite long, but I also want to mention the obvious gender stuff going on here. There are a number of moments that make it seem as though St. Trina might actually be more than just "half" of Miquella. Firstly, as she is shown falling in the story trailer, Leda is describing how Miquella abandoned his fate, as if Trina had a vital role to play in Miquella's future. It also seems as though Trina isn't cursed in the same way that Miquella is; her voice and size indicate that she is at least more substantial than his "infant form," and she is depicted in "adult form, somewhat unnervingly" on the Torch of St. Trina. Furthermore, her "adult form" has a third eye in the middle of her forehead. The third eye is a symbol of enlightenment in both Hinduism and Buddhism; it seems that Trina has achieved some level of wholeness in this depiction. Meanwhile, when Miquella achieves godhood, his eyes remain permanently shut. He also appears to have only one physical arm. He holds Radahn with two incorporeal arms while casting with his real right arm, but his left arm appears to fade away to nothing before the elbow, as if unfinished. Miquella's blindness and asymmetry here, I think, reflect how unbalanced and incomplete his divinity is without Trina.

One more hint towards St Trina being a part of Miquella's future lies way back at the Haligtree. In Malenia's bossroom, just above where Miquella's cocoon was once embedded into the tree, the branches and roots appear to form a silhouette. This could be Miquella, Trina, or both, but I do see a certain resemblance to Trina's depiction on the torch in the way the "hair" covers the eyes. Given that Miquella's body appears to have grown a decent amount inside of the cocoon when we see in at Mohg's palace, it's possible that the cocoon situation was his original attempt to cure himself of his own curse, or perhaps become a part of the Haligtree itself. In the Shaman Village, Marika's home, there is a similar scene. A woman's body that resembles Marika seemingly mummified within the hollow of a tree. I honestly have no idea what to make of that just yet, but I thought it worth a mention.

So, with all that in mind, abandoning Trina seems to be even more significant. Not only has Miquella divested himself of his love and his fate, but maybe even his future, too. Being eternally nascent, he is always in a state of potential, after all. Am I suggesting that Miquella is a transfeminine character? That he was meant to grow up to become a goddess in the aspect of St. Trina, or maybe even more like Marika than he already is? Well, maybe. If you find it compelling, then absolutely. Fromsoftware's storytelling is always ambiguous, and is always design to leave us some room to read and interpret, to really play in the space we are given. Personally, I do find it compelling in a horribly tragic sort of way, fitting for the setting. It's also entirely possible that I have rather self-indulgently projected some of my own angst onto these character. I likely have, to be perfectly honest. It's rare that I really connect with a set of characters or a story like I have with this lot, and I hope that maybe some of you reading this will feel similarly. If you have read this far, thanks <3

[dontyoufeelitangel]

Hello Ghesties, Ghouls & Ghoulettes! Welcome to Angels run-down show-down, where I (Angel) do a run down of the Ghovie for all you lovely folk!!

Didn’t get the chance to see the Ghovie aka Rite Here Rite Now? Fear not for I am here! This post will contain a run-down of what happened during the Ghovie.

So this is your warning:

‼️SPOILERS AHEAD ‼️

I will be breaking this down into separate parts:

Lore: contains all lore that was mentioned

Songs: songs that were played

And Theatrics: stage play and other attributes that happened.

Another fair warning: there is a possibility that not everything that happened in the movie is noted here, I may have forgotten some things!! But I will do my best to include everything🤍

Additional notes: many fans including me were worried that this project would be incredibly low quality due to the fact it’s a movie operated by a band. More so worried that the movie would be the same quality as the YouTube episodes. I can confirm that the camera quality for this movie is amazing. You can compare the filmography to Taylor swifts era tour movie. Each shot for rite here rite now is shot with a high-to-low speed motion camera. The audio quality is above and beyond, even nihils ghost is very detailed and realistic. Every film shot is synchronized with the songs and instruments (example: camera changes for each beat/camera focuses on certain ghouls for their assigned solo)

Lore:

Story: the plot of the ghovie is a showcase of their Kia forum concert mixed with short lore scenes. Between every 2-3 songs there would be a scene of Copia running behind stage and talking with imperator and nihil OR getting dressed and ready for his next performance.

When he talked with imperator and nihil, he mostly talked to them about what would happen after the concert. Nihil and imperator told him numerous times that he was “focusing to much on the past and future instead of living in the moment, living right here, right now.”

Copia realizes this before he does his encore, so he goes out and does a great encore assuming he’ll soon die. After the encore and when the concert is finished, unfortunately imperator dies and gives a note to Copia.

The note states that he will not die, but rather be gifted a new higher status in the clergy. In which he’ll further be known as Frater (Latin for brother, which makes sense if we think about the title for sister imperator). And because there is no head for the ghost project they will bring in a new front man. The movie ends before the front man is revealed and we are left on a cliffhanger.

The lore for the ghovie is very similar and the same to what we already know! Not to much was revealed but here were the key points of what was mentioned:

⭐️the other brothers were not directly mentioned or shown on camera. The only references to the other emeritus brothers was the backdrop for the stage (stained glass windows portraying the previous brothers & nihil)

⭐️it was confirmed that Nihil was copias father and that during the kiss the go-goat music video sister imperator was pregnant with Copia.

⭐️Copia even acknowledges nihil as his dad, in one scene where he says “thanks dad”

⭐️sister imperator ends up passing at the end of the movie but becomes a spirit and is seen with the rest of the spirits (nihil and the twins, yes, the twins seem in the YouTube episodes apparently have died)

⭐️the ghouls were not to involved with the lore except for the fact they all surrounded imperators dead body when she passed. (Idk if this counts as lore but) the ghouls also talked in the movie, only for a small scene though. Bass ghoul (Rain) is the ghoul that talked.

⭐️nihil says that he produced three songs. The third song is the one we see during the credits. Song is : the future is a foreign land, as shown here:

SONGS:

The songs that played were the ones that were played at the Kia forum shows. Songs that where played included:

⚡️imperium (pre - opener)

⚡️Kaisarion (opener/curtain pull) (also if I remember correctly there was a short clip of a harp but I’m not sure if it was being played or not during that song.)

⚡️rats

⚡️faith

⚡️spillways

⚡️Cirice (he ciriced the camera making it look like he Ciriced us)

⚡️Absolution

⚡️ritual

⚡️call me little sunshine

⚡️con clavi con dio

⚡️ watcher in the sky

⚡️ if you have ghosts (acoustic version with two cellos, violin & harp ghoulettes. As well as a background vocalist ghoulette who did absolutely amazing! Also papa gives a speech about how “everyone is important and that their presence at that concert was inspiring”)

⚡️dominion

⚡️ Twenties (body painted skeleton dancers came out and performed on stage, they did cartwheels, threw eachother around and even picked up cardi)

⚡️year zero

⚡️spoksonat

⚡️he is (I cried)

⚡️miasma (nihil told Copia that he didn’t want to die, but even when he did he was still happy because he got to perform and bring joy to people temporarily when they revived him. Nihil also told Copia to focus on the good in life)

⚡️Mary on a cross (animated in a scooby-doo style, where nihil chases around imperator as she fights him and runs away)

⚡️ mummy dust

⚡️respite on the spitalfields

⚡️ kiss the go-goat

⚡️dance macabre (skeleton dancers come out for a second time with silk fans)

⚡️square hammer

THEATRICS:

Some silly theatrics that happened include:

💙Copia huffing the gas from a whip-cream can before performing.

💙jumped in a storage transfer crate and had a whole convo with nihil.

💙has a the tour manager (Ashley) come out on stage and change his shoes for him.

💙only Copia can see the spirits of his family, so when he would talk to nihil or imperator, spectators around him would think he’s crazy and talking to himself.

💙many of the behind the scenes crew of the band were included in the movie such as : Ashley(tour manager), and many of the security guards & jesus( you know who lol)

💙remember when everyone was freaking out about the fact there’d be a blowjob reference? Yeah well there was no actual blow job scene, the warning for the blow job was for when Kyle aka Jesus came out and blew away the confetti.

💙there is also a scene at the end in which Copia is flying away from the concert (I guess that’s his preferred way of transportation lol??) he is flying in the hot air balloon we see in the cover for rite here rite now. He flies into space before falling, ouch!

💙during his flight there’s a montage of sister imperator being pregnant with him, during this montage we see twins. Twin babies, twin children. We are unsure if this is a reference to Tobias’s twins or if Copia has a twin.

.

If I forgot to add anything or got info wrong please feel free to leave a comment and I will correct myself as fast as possible!!

Don’t you feel it Angel? I do⚡️

[tragedy-of-commons]

“You are a genius at understanding me” + Dr. Ratio

"You are a genius at misunderstanding me."

Veritas Ratio does not so much as look up from the flickering static screens hovering in the air above his desk. Well, your desk, but you've been allowing him to occupy it since he started staying longer hours at your place. The only indication that he even heard you is the movement of his hand that scrubs over his (probably exhausted) face.

"What is there to misunderstand? Please, enlighten me," he says, meaning every word. He stops emoting, flicking his wrist to the right fluidly, screens going with it - they fade quickly from view as they're shut off. "From my comprehension, you're going to throw your life away on some fool's errand."

"Fool's errand?" you echo, voice quivering as indescribable hurt punctures your gut. "That's what you see my passion as? An exercise in futility?"

Veritas' voice tightens as he pointedly turns around to face you and your aggrieved countenance, but there is no rash anger or malice present. There's something else you can't place instead. "That is not what I said. I am calling the action of you throwing yourself headfirst into the Nihility for the sake of research some fool's errand. I value your intelligence. Surely, you must know that--"

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you clutch your various portfolios and folders a bit tighter in your arms. Despite your earlier comment, sometimes it's easy to forget the caliber of the person you're debating with. Dr. Ratio of the Intelligentsia Guild is easily the brightest mind you've ever had the privilege of working with. (Or maybe you're doing the very thing he abhors - worshiping a genius and underselling yourself.)

With bright minds, comes points of contention.

"That this is the last thing we need to accomplish before we can make proper contact with IX? Yes, I do," you stand your ground. "Don't try to sway me. Common sense would tell anyone that it's dangerous, but you'd tell me that the pursuit of knowledge is anything but smooth sailing."

Veritas regards you and your reply without immediate dismissal, so you know he's treating this with the respect it deserves - not to say he doesn't do so normally, but you can feel the atmosphere shift into something highly gravitational, weighing down on the width of your shoulders.

"I can't stop you," unsure of his footing, he takes an experimental step closer, observing your reaction and making sure you're not against it. When you do nothing but stand there with a heavy heart and harrowed expression, he closes the remaining distance. "And I won't attempt to try, considering you've already made up your mind. It would be a disservice to your character."

Veritas is beautiful. Up close, he gazes at you through thick lashes and violet fringe - even if those vibrant eyes of his are ringed with darkness and his skin is a shade paler than you remember. This project has consumed you both... agitation is inevitable. The fluorescents (which you switched for a type to remedy eye strain a month ago) flicker and hum discordantly as he pries one of your hands away from your chest.

"You knew," you surmise. Veritas rakes a calloused thumb over your palm, reverent and reluctant all the same.

"You wanted me to know," he states matter-of-factly. "Leaving out the approval for the funding where I've made myself comfortable is not the gentle let-down you hoped for."

"I'm sorry."

"If I've made you feel the need to apologize, then I am in need of an adjustment. Don't be sorry; be anything else," he begs (or the closest you've ever heard to it).

You close your quivering fingers over his hand - it just feels like the right thing to do at this moment. Gut feelings aren't evidence by any stretch of the imagination, but based on almost nothing, you've decided that Veritas Ratio is going to miss you. You're not set to explore the trenches of oblivion anytime soon, really. The process of getting your endeavor approved through the proper channels is a lengthy one, but it already feels like you're lightyears apart from him.

You say nothing, so he continues, voice gentle. "I suppose I just don't want you to leave, knowing you may not return."

He's never been one to sugarcoat things, but hearing the bold truth spoken aloud to your face with all jargon stripped away rattles your core in an animalistic way. It makes you want to shove your greatest aspirations into the nearest closet, if only for a moment. If only to see his expression lighten.

Is that juvenile? Yes. Is there room for feelings like that in your relationship? Probably not. Do you care? Yes, but you care about your dreams more.

Is there room for him in your dreams? That remains to be seen.

"I know," you smile, brow knit together in sympathy. "Come on, let's get you to bed. It's past your bedtime, you know."

That earns you a nose exhale that almost sounds like a laugh. It's good enough, at least for tonight. In the morning, perhaps you'll broach the topic again, sidled up to Veritas' side as you criticize the way he uses your coffee machine or the way he lingers a little too long near the threshold of your home after it's well past time to go.

You still have time. You'll have to squeeze Veritas in there while you can.

🏷️: @akutasoda, @aviiarie, @lowkeyren

a/n: this is probably the most excited i've been to write in a while HELPAOSDAS. whoever you are, anon, thank you. omg this prompt... galaxy brain 9000 iq. i have trouble characterizing dr. ratio sometimes, but i hope you enjoy what i came up with!

event post here

[kabukiaku]

What do you think of the Ghovie? :D

holy HELL man. to give my spoiler free thoughts: it was loads of fun. the concert footage was absolutely gorgeous. the sound quality was insane, I sang along through all the songs. ending left me shook and have more questions than answers.

for my thoughts that do involve spoilers:

my only real criticism but I guess it's just a personal preference: this was me merely having my specific expectations, but I was hoping to see Copia talk to his brothers in ghost form.

I did NOT expect Sister to kick the bucket.

Damn I'm not even a huge Copia enjoyer and yet I wanted to hug this man. He fr looked so stressed and conflicted.

FRATER IMPERATOR??!?! fuck man. I'm gonna draw that outfit.

SECONDO-STAINED GLASS SHOT!!!!

the animated segment of Mary On a Cross was so so cool. i guess they finally gave in to the scooby-doo chase music allegations xD

NEW GUY? who are you. who aaaare you? I vote for resurrected terzo. hah. yeah right.

the implications of copia having a twin!!?!?

I saw terzo ONCE and I pointed at the screen. my boy....

copia getting a lil jumpscare when he inverts his cross necklace. haha.

how will this new era play out? will it be an homage to the first era?

nihil you were a delight. silly old man.

cant get the new song out of my head. good music. good message.

copia's speeches throughout the concert, ahhh really pulls at your heartstrings.

copia on the hot air balloon, fr thought something bad was gonna happen, but good chances are he was lost in his mind, and fuckin fainted. oof.

RAIN SPOKE. him saying 'so no encore?' had the same cadence as the vine 'so no head?'

ghouls were lovely. not as feral as usual? poor swiss. he didn't get much good footage.

the. GHOULETTES. PERIOD.

phantom's wacky head tilts. he's so crazy. /pos

when nihil asked him to do the 'grucification' pose during SH my ass really thought they were gonna kill him on the spot or something.

OVERALL: a damn good concert movie. so thrilling. so much fun. I am happy that I got to experience this. despite the absence of our previous papas, we cling onto so dearly, I know the spotlight isn't shining on them anymore. it makes me sad, as I would've love to see Terzo in some narrative type media. Now, I await for what this new Era will bring.

[qqueenofhades]

what's been particularly vile to me is this group of white online leftists who insist that anyone who cares about more than this one issue for the election is a bad person, like, as if us black and brown people are making up reasons to be afraid and not.....believing the gop when they say they are coming for us. believing trump who has said previously that he does not bluff, that he will do the things he's said he will do (i hate what social media has gone to the word gaslighting but it feels like gaslighting. we lived through four years of trump. we saw the damage. stop treating us like we're being dramatic). it must be great to not have to worry about that i guess? "life won't change under trump" is such a telling admission because maybe theirs won't but mine will. and so many others' will.

and it is often again these (white) online leftists that love to call anyone who disagrees with them a white liberal (derogatory) because they know it would be racist (bad) to be this shitty and condescending to poc but they don't want to actually listen to anything black and brown voters are saying. it's easier to just call us white liberals and throw our opinions out, to ignore the work of black people for decades to gain the right to vote, to disregard the weight of telling them to not do that. it's genuinely appalling. they care so much about racism until it's time to engage with poc who have different opinions than their online echo chambers, then we're just stupid liberals with terrible opinions like..... wanting to live. not wanting four more years of trump. so sorry for that.

sorry for this vent in your inbox, i'm just so fucking tired of white people trying to rewrite history as if trump wasn't that bad. he was for my family and countless others and i am terrified for what's to come if he wins.

The thing about (the often-white) Online Leftists is that they have become just as much as a radicalized death cult as the diehard Trumpists. If you don't want to die for The Revolution and/or sacrifice your life, friends, family, the rest of the country, etc., then you're Insufficiently Pure and must be Purged. (Which I think is just complete BS, as none of them could actually handle sacrificing anything, but it's increasingly the only kind of performative rhetoric that is acceptable in leftist-identified discourse spaces.) This is functionally identical to "if you aren't willing to lay down your life for our Lord and Savior Donald Trump and the Great White Christian Nationalist Dictatorship, you're a liberal cuck," but with the names and justification changed. It doesn't change the underlying radicalization, nihilism, and insanity of the premise.

Another thing the Trumpists and the Online Leftists have in common is that they are busily rewriting just how bad Trump was in order to serve their Ideology. Ever since January 6, 2021, the Republicans have thrown everything they have at revising and whitewashing any suggestion that it was an "insurrection," and the Online Leftists have done the same, in an attempt to "prove" their insane point that Trump "would be better" than Biden. This is embodied in the recent ultimate-brainworm-nonsense maximalist-online take that "Biden has to lose so the rest of the world will see that the US rejects genocide!!!" That's right, the message that the rest of the world would take from Biden losing to Trump is that the US rejects genocide. Never mind if Trump literally wants to commit all the genocide possible and to install himself as a fascist theocratic dictator. In the deeply twisted minds of the Online Leftists, this is the only possible interpretation of Biden's loss, so they'll push for it as hard as they can! The Trumpists and the Online Leftists, at this point, are working pretty much in concert to damage Biden for similar insane reasons and get Trump elected. Etc etc., one Nazi and ten people at the same table is eleven Nazis.

Like. Sure. Four years ago, when Trump was president and people were dying by the thousands because he didn't want to wear a mask because it smeared his bronzer, just to name literally one of the terrible things he did every single day (and not even mentioning how much worse a second term would be) we were absolutely better off. Super-duper great. (Sarcasm.) Either that or "there is suffering and evil in the world and the only solution is to drastically increase the suffering and evil for everyone and to destroy what progress we have managed to make because It Does Not Fix Everything Now" is an absolute moral imperative, and either way, yeah. I'm calling bullshit.

[hitokiri-izou]

Ok I've processed the 2.1 questline and in regards to aventurine's status, I'm confident that he's alive. I thought so while playing but had doubts.

Acheron explicitly said that his gamble isn't over, and even went so far as to sever the harmony from him. So his death sentence has been lifted.

He was also the main character of this patch in a way. Whenever we were in his pov we saw glimpes of his past giving context to his actions now and we even got to see conversations between himself that revealed his real self. At every turn we're told that he's going to die, whether by the harmony or his own machinations. His backstory peppered in even gives him death flags.

But his death is entirely expected. By us, by sunday, by sparkle, by himself. He follows the path of preservation, he's been invited by the path of elation, and by the end of his quest he's ended up on the path of nihility. A fool who wants to protect what he loves but all who he loves are gone, making it meaningless.

Acheron obliges his wish and unsheathes her sword. She is the emanator of nihility but will not allow him his end. Throughout this quest as we see more and more of aventurine we see how careless he is with his life and as his mask gets ripped off again and again it's apparent how little he regards his life and his suicidal ideation comes to the forefront. He doesn't care how this will pan out, he wants to go home and his home is where his family is.

Acheron apologizes that this void wasn't what he was expecting or where he wanted to go. She uses the power of nihility to save him from the harmony, an inversion of expectations. She denies his suicide by cop, tells him he's not done yet, and wishes him luck.

Aventurine even apologizes to his younger self saying it's not time for him to reunite with his family, some day but not yet.

Thematically, acheron talked him away from the ledge and encouraged him to live. She's giving him another chance. And he's taking it.

Where he is right now is probably outside the domain of the dreamscape where presumably robin and firefly have been. We probably won't see him for awhile as he treks through and finds a way to escape. But I am confident he'll find his way back.

[gravehags]

son of perdition

Pairing: Cardinal Copia x f!Reader (Curator!Reader)

Rating: Teen

Tags: tw descriptions of vomiting, copia being a care giver, confessions and revelations, antichrist copia, curator reader series lore

Words: 1,717

Summary: And Hell followed with him.

a/n: copia is going to fist fight imperator in the street while curator reader fist fights nihil. terzo is filming the whole thing in 4k.

~~~

You don’t even last twenty-four hours with the secret Sister Imperator has burdened you with before it comes crawling back out of your gut at 3 am.

You’re already gagging when you throw the covers back and stumble into the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet in time. It takes four heaves to empty your stomach until it spasms inside you and comes to a stop as you cry and drool and spit pathetically, hunched over the bowl. You don’t even hear Copia get up, let alone hear him come into the bathroom and lean over you to flush the toilet and push your hair back.

“Poverina,” he murmurs, gently easing you backwards to slump against the cool tile wall. You’re still looking at the toilet warily as he grabs a rag from the counter and wets it, bringing it to your mouth. When you finally look at him - the way his brow is furrowed as he kneels in front of you cleaning you up - another loud sob is wrenched from you.

“Amore, what is it? What’s wrong? You were acting so strange all day before we went to bed. I know you, dolcezza, this is no stomach bug,” he says, dropping the rag as tears continue to pour down your face and he gently holds your chin, “What happened?”

None of what I’m about to tell you can leave this office.

You look at the worried face of the man you love.

He would tell you.

“C-Copia,” your voice is hoarse, “we need to talk.”

Copia looks at your tearful face and to the toilet and his eyes get wide.

“Amore, you’re not…”

“No!” you blurt out, “But…that’s part of it. Eugh…let me brush my teeth and we’ll get back in bed. I’ll explain everything, I promise. I promise, my love.”

He nods and reaches his hands out to haul you off the bathroom floor and gives you one last curious glance before shuffling back into the bedroom. Once you’ve completed your task and give yourself a long, hard look in the mirror you shut the light off and walk back to bed. Copia is sitting up with the covers pooled around his waist and your eyes flick to the tattoo on his pectoral as lead settles in your empty stomach. When you crawl in beside him he gently takes your hands in his and you take a deep breath.

“I…I don’t even know where to start.”

“Tell me everything from the moment you left my office yesterday, amore mio.”

“Right. Right. I uh. I got an email yesterday morning from Sister Imperator saying she wanted me to come to her office to talk. I thought I was, y’know, getting fired or something. It wasn’t that though. She told me…ugh,” you squeeze your eyes shut and reopen them with another deep breath, “She told me that I was…chosen. By Satan.”

“For…for what?”

“To…ugh this is so fucked up…to carry your child. She said that's why she hired me.”

The look of abject horror and fury on Copia’s face would make you physically recoil if he weren’t gripping your hands so tightly.

“She said what?” he breathes, and you swear his white eye flashes in the dim light of the bedroom. “Why the fuck…how could she say…unless...”

A self-deprecating little smirk slowly twists his lips and he exhales angrily through his nose.

“Copia she said–”

“--that I’m the Antichrist, sì?”

You’re floored. Sister Imperator had acted like this was an enormous secret that Copia was not aware of.

“Y-yeah. Yeah that’s what she said, Copia how–”

He gives you a sad smile.

“I told you I was always treated differently as a child, huh? People either treated me with kid gloves or complete derision. I’m not an idiot, I figured it out young. These, eh,” he raises his hands and displays the distinct scars on them, “were kind of a giveaway. It should be a great honor to know that the Unholy Father is…your father but all it ever did was give me grief. Eh, I suppose it beats Nihil refusing to accept that I’m his kid. Sathanas has at least been there for me - perhaps not physically but spiritually.”

“I was going to ask,” you start quietly, “I mean…you call the papas your brothers and for the longest time I just thought that was because you’ve known each other for so long but…the eyes…”

“You don’t know how the other kids at the abbey would torment me - knowing I was an Emeritus son but never being acknowledged by Nihil. Being hated by Nihil. Nothing’s fucking changed, I guess,” Copia mutters, “Nihil must have roped my mother into some ritual where he was possessed. Sathanas, what I wouldn’t give to have known her. It’s been a long, lonely life, amore. I just wanted someone to love me. Five decades on this earth of nothing but dalliances and heartache and then came…you.”

Copia looks at you with such tenderness you nearly start crying again. The truth about his mother is ready to leap from your tongue when he speaks again.

“You never saw me as, as a tool, or an inconvenience, or, or anything special–”

You’re horrorstruck.

“My love, you are more special to me than I can possibly put into words–”

“Yes, but as you said - special to you. Important to you. Not important to the faith, or important to some agenda being kept from me by the Ministry elders, eh? That was part of the gift of you being from the outside. I had a clean slate.”

“Even though apparently I was destined to be with you all along,” you say, brow furrowing, “Makes you wonder if…”

“Don’t think that,” Copia says quickly, quietly, and deadly serious as he grips your hands once more, “Amore, the most important tenet of my religion is that of free will. Nobody made you accept this job or made us fall in love. Per favore, don’t ever question that. The powers of the Olde One are great but he cannot manufacture emotion where there is none. I swear to you, amata mia.”

You nod, tears once again filling your eyes. Copia raises your hands to his mouth and kisses them.

“Anima mia,” he says, voice cracking, “Tell me…be honest. Does this news change how you feel about me?”

“Never,” you breathe, without a second thought, “Copia, nothing could change how I feel. I…I’ll be the first to admit I don’t fully understand it - not yet - but my love, you could bring about the end of days and I’ll walk into hell with you, hand in hand. I’d do anything for you, but…”

“What, what is it?” his shoulders tense and his grip on your hands tightens.

“Copia I don’t want a baby. Ever.”

His posture sags, clearly showing his relief.

“And amore I do not want anything that you do not want. Fuck the horrific reason Imperator said you were hired. And if putting your foot down was not enough for her then let her try to tell us both how she’s going to force a pregnancy on you, huh? How dare she. How dare she. Free will. Control over our own bodies. How could she twist His message like this? Not on my fucking watch.”

You give him a small smile, relief flooding your veins before you pause. You’ve revealed almost all to him but one thing still lingers. Part of you tells you to hold off, to wait until a time when you’re both less exhausted. Before you can second-guess yourself though, you speak.

“Copia, there’s something else. About Sister Imperator.”

“What’s that then?”

You hesitate, wondering if it’s wise to divulge all the secrets she shared with you. You know it’s a matter of when, not if, she will make you pay. When you look into his anxious gaze, your heart clenches. He deserves the truth. Damn the consequences.

“She’s…your mother, my love. I’m so sorry.”

He goes quiet, looking down to where your fingers are entwined with his. It takes a minute before he speaks again.

“I think part of me always knew,” he murmurs, “She’s always been there, every step of the way. I just don’t understand why it had to be kept from me. Why she couldn’t…why she couldn’t love me outright. Like a mother should, huh?”

“I don’t know,” you say, “It’s…it’s clear she cares about you deeply but I can’t speak to her motivations. She’s a complex woman.”

He snorts softly, a small smile on his face.

“That’s putting it lightly. Well that’s a conversation for another time, my brain can’t process anymore bullshit right now. Eh, what a night. Didn’t think when I was listening to you puke that this is where things would end up.”

Your stomach does another somersault.

“Ugh don’t remind me. But Copia,” you reach up to cup his cheek and he leans into your touch, “Thank you. And I love you. For everything you are and everything you’ve done. Eternally.”

There’s no mistaking the glisten of tears in his eyes this time as he leans in to softly kiss you. When he gently pulls away he rests his forehead against yours.

“We’re taking tomorrow off,” Copia murmurs, “And we’re getting out of the abbey. I’ll text Imperator in the morning to tell her, and if she has a problem I’ll just say that if she doesn’t fuck off I won’t, em—’deceive people with signs and wonders, or sit in the temple of God and claim to be God himself’, eh?”

The laugh that comes out of you is hoarse and tired but genuine.

“Blackmail feels very Antichrist-y of you, my love.”

“See, I’m already great at this. Fear the trembler of nations,” Copia growls, dragging you down onto the bed on top of him. Laughing, you prop your chin up on his sternum.

“Kingdoms to fall one by one?”

He nods, smoothing your hair back.

“Exactly, amore. But first eh, let’s get some sleep.”

“Anything you say, Your Eminence.”

“Oh no, dolcezza mia. Not mine. All yours.”

You yawn and curl into his side.

“Goodnight, my love.”

Copia leans over and turns off the lamp, sighing heavily.

“Buonanotte, amore.”

You dream of hellfire.

You sleep more soundly than you have in a long, long time.

[writing-for-life]

The Sandman Overture and Exiles: Omnia Mutantur, Nihil Interit

Everything Changes, Nothing Is Truly Lost—Not Even Hope

There once was a little girl (well, not a human girl) known by the name Hope Beautiful Lost Nebula, egg-daughter of Clearly who died in childbirth, sperm-daughter of Troubling World who was murdered by reavers. She is one of the most meaningful characters of the whole Sandman, so why does fandom hardly talk about her, not even those who have read the comics?

Understanding Hope, her story and her connection to Dream, is more or less understanding the entirety of The Sandman, and that's why I want to write about Hope and hope.

This contains major spoilers for Overture, Exiles and the ending of the Sandman, so if you’d rather not, this is your exit sign…

Pictures often speak louder than words, so I would like to start with these [I will add Alt text gradually, it’s a lot]…

If you haven't read Overture, you would not know that the words Dream speaks in Hell when he wins the Oldest Game are a direct mirror of Hope's words, down to repeating "I am...". It is not a sudden epiphany about how to win—it is a memory.

How much Morpheus truly remembers about the universe before the reset in Overture—it is something we cannot know for certain, and we have discussed it on here many, many times. I personally lean towards his remembering a lot more than we might think, and I've written about it in other metas before, e.g. here (super long with many tangents) or here. The narration is unreliable on this, because Desire in cat-form says in Overture that “there won’t be anything to remember”, but also that Dream will be “the only one to remember”. But whether he remembers every detail, or whether it is exactly the way Glory states in the above panel and it’s just that Hope's name is there for him when he needs it most, is secondary. What matters is that he does remember (side-note: It also matters because Dream promised her himself. And he never goes back on a promise, for better, for worse).

The above conversation with Glory is often taken as proof that there is no hope in the new universe, and by extension, the whole of the Sandman turns into a story with a hopeless ending. But in my opinion, that isn’t true. Yes, as a mortal being, Hope does not exist in the universe we are now in. But two very specific panels in Overture are directly contradicted by what happens in the later arcs of The Sandman:

The Star says here, after Hope's above statement that she is not nothing, that she is Hope, "As if saying that might ever change something." [And the Star’s tone is equally mocking than that of Lucifer Morningstar when they say, “What are you then, Dream Lord?”, but that just as an aside.]

And since Hope is killed in the very next panel (because Time pulled Dream out of that situation, so he wasn't able to protect her anymore. Who needs parents, right?), we might be inclined to believe this.

But by now, we all know that the Star is WRONG. These are not "three words that mean nothing." Once again:

And also this (I couldn’t find a gif with the bit where she says, “I will never give up hope,” but we all know she does say these words):

What else makes Dream/s prevail in Hell, what else are the dreams Morpheus speaks about here than hopes?

The Star is directly proven wrong. And so are we if we assume that Hope’s spirit doesn’t exist anymore. Because hope as a concept, hope as the thing that Morpheus remembers when he fights Lucifer/Choronzon in Hell, still exists. Even though this was said in the old universe before the reset, it DOES mean something. It DOES change something. Because Morpheus remembers.

Remembering Hope means to have hope.

And if we believe there isn’t any H/hope, we are also directly proven wrong by Time, who tells us that there will always be a universe in which Hope (the being) exists, and that there will always be one in which she doesn’t. And they, in a way, exist simultaneously. So even in a universe without Hope, her spirit, her memory, prevails. That is not a universe entirely without hope.

And that is also our tie-in to Exiles, because Morpheus and Daniel also exist simultaneously. Omnia mutantur, nihil interit—everything changes, nothing is truly lost.

Morpheus has moved on, but he still exists—in story, in memory of those who cared about him, in Daniel!Dream, in the “Soft Places” at the fray where reality and dreams meet. And it is exactly what H/hope is in the Sandman universe—it keeps on existing: In stories, in memories, in the “soft places”. Because to hope means to love, and to love means to hope.

Sometimes, you need to find hope…

Sometimes, she needs a bit of coaxing. Sometimes, hope means not to forget, so you keep going and remember what truly matters…

Sometimes, we lose her, and even Hope loses memory of who she was, but we can be reminded…

Hope might transform, but she never truly disappears in The Sandman.

On that note: I totally understand the attachment to Morpheus as a character. He is my favourite character, too. I cried buckets when I first knew what was going to happen (decades ago I dare say, and not at the end of The Kindly Ones, but during World’s End). And I think it is totally legitimate to want him to survive. Part of me does, too. It is a bit baffling to assume that people who read the story with acceptance and find meaning in it don’t care enough about Morpheus as a character to want him to survive, and that they are even a bit stupid for thinking The Sandman’s underlying message is one of hope. I don’t know many people who aren’t heartbroken in one way or another. But the story had to end the way it ended because it is not just about Morpheus and humanising him.

I often feel that by clinging to his character and person alone, we are losing sight of the deeper meaning, and we are closing our eyes to all the messages that are there, in plain sight, if we just let them speak to us:

The Sandman is not simply a story about Morpheus. He is the protagonist (even that could be argued), but he is also a vessel for the meaning and power of change, for letting go instead of clinging to what doesn’t serve us (and isn’t it ironic that by desperately wanting him to live and getting upset about the fact he doesn’t, we are doing exactly that instead of leaning into catharsis that actually has the potential to bring on change in us?).

Dream does not die because Dream cannot die. He changes. What dies is a point of view (symbolised by Morpheus). That’s it. That is the message. Omnia mutantur, nihil interit.

Hope is not gone. Not in this universe or in any other. Her spirit prevails. Because when she calls you out, when she touches you, you remember what matters:

“I’m not,” he says after thinking for a hot second, and proceeds to do exactly that regardless.

She touches him, she holds his hand, and calls him out.

She touches him, she holds his hand, and he is honest with himself, for once.

Hope touched Dream, but did she touch Desire in the same way? I already wrote about it here, and I think in certain ways, she did:

Hope prevails…

Hope is what saved the universe in the first place.

Hope is what Morpheus remembers when it matters.

Hope is what Nada finds again in A Hope in Hell after she gave up hope in Tales in the Sand.

Hope is what drives Unity and ultimately lets Rose survive.

Hope springs eternal in people like Rosemary who are willing to help and overcome their own fears. And in the TV series, that hope gets rewarded, and that’s important (I am glad they made that change).

Hope is even what drives Morpheus, but to see that, we need to take our eyes off only focusing on his having hope for himself, his having hope for his point of view (that does not serve him or anyone else, and he knows). If that’s the hope we’re looking for, we won’t find it. No, that’s not entirely true either. Because again, Dream can’t die. But the true reason is:

Morpheus is bigger than that. The story is bigger than that.

He has hope for humanity and sentient beings that are under his purview—what else are dreams but hopes? And Morpheus as the “point of view” understands that said point of view needs to make space for a better, kinder, more human (for lack of better term—human=/=man but human=with humanity) Dream to exist. And said Dream comes into existence with Daniel, but he also still contains all that was Morpheus. See it as having learned from experience and moving on with a new point of view instead of letting our hurt define us and holding on to it indefinitely. It is something we recommend in real life all the time—why can’t we find it in this story? Because it is right there, again, in plain sight: Omnia mutantur, nihil interit.

I am not saying this is how you have to see it. But I am saying that engaging with the story on this level makes it easier to come to terms with an ending that is commonly interpreted as hopeless because we can't see the forest for the trees.

Hope is hope. And she saved the universe and us. Not just once, but many times over. The new universe isn’t the hopeless, sad universe. The old one was. The new one has hope because it keeps existing. With Hope’s spirit and a Dream who has changed…

[mangooes]

Chapter 1 - All will eventually fall upon the earth

Chapter 2 - I weep for the departed

Chapter 3 - Ready for another dance, shadow monarch?

Chapter 4 - Interwined for now, perhaps forever?

Acheron had always wandered the endless corridors of the stars, guarding the path between life and death. As one of the mysterious followers of the Aeon of Nihility, she was familiar with the endless voids of space, the quiet pulse of dying stars, and the delicate line that separated existence from oblivion. However, the new world she found herself in was different from her original.

The world of Hunters was alive with power, with bustling cities, labyrinthine dungeons, and individuals who bore the weight of immense strength as if they were gods themselves. This world of impossibility has summoned her. 

When she woke up in the body of a child, she realized maybe the aeons above had finally given mercy on her. Alas as time progresses, she learns that this was not mercy, rather it seems the aeons would want to torment her further. This world is not much different than her old ones, people who have the strength, the power to do things still exist. But one thing she learned was that aeons do not exist in this world, rather monsters who wreck havoc in a form of dungeons and those who defend humanity are called hunters. It's not long before she met a certain boy around her age, it appears that a family consisting of a father, a mother, a brother and a sister has moved in right next to her. “Hello!” came a greeting from the boy and the girl. The boy introduce themselves as Sung Jinwoo, and the girl Sung Jinah. “What’s your name? we are the same age so i thought maybe we can be good neighbors..” the boy asked with enthusiasm. 

“My name..? "Acheron..." Merely a borrowed name. You know my nature, remember my deeds... Thus, I am Acheron. “

The boy and the girl turned to look at each other and smiled awkwardly, “Okay then it’s nice to meet you acheron!” That was their first ever meeting. After that, there comes frequent meetings, and soon from strangers, neighbors, to friends or even more. Acheron had witnessed Sung Jinwoo’s whole life and had been with him as he progressed, from being the weakest hunter to the strongest hunter in the world, even obtaining the power of the king of death, the shadow monarch. And in the midst of chaos against three monarchs and Jinwoo dying the second time, she bid her farewell as the light of the stage dims on her. 

In an empty space white and black color spreads across, only a black hole was seen in the middle of it making the land filled with nothing. There stood a confused now young man and a young woman with her features stained in white and red from her previous purple and black appearance. 

“I’ve trusted you for so long to not even notice this, I knew your strength is beyond a normal hunter’s capability,why are you keeping it a secret from me? from us? just who are you acheron…  the real you?” the young man with black hair and purple eyes that seems to glow in the dark asked with uncertainty. 

“I’m not your enemy, this place i’ve taken you in, has no relations to the world outside, to the chaos around, and to the time that runs fastly like a prey. I won't hurt you, your time is still long  Jinwoo.” the woman finally turns to the young man. 

“But why..? the young man asked with emotions flowing. 

“Perhaps by the time I spent here, I've grown quite fond of you, Jinwoo. Maybe if fate allows us to meet again. Then we shall, I shall tell you a tale.. as for my name ... .Raiden Bossenmori Mei…for that is the truth of my life.” the young woman said

“Raiden Bossenmori Mei… what a beautiful name..” the young boy repeats with a soft tone.

The young woman sighed and turned around looking away from the young man as she drew her sword. “Know this Jinwoo, our meeting, and everything, from the start to the end will return to Nihility. Everything will just be a dream that you won't remember. Don’t be too harsh on yourself, you have the whole world before you and the people who truly care about you.” the young woman paused before red electricity sparks uncontrollable around the empty space and the area. 

The young man stood stunned, before screaming desperately “What do you mean by this..? Why are you saying this?? Are you leaving me?? No you can’t possibly do this..!” The boy asked with frustration, seen with his now intensifying glowing purple eyes as the ominous aura around him seemed to grow within seconds. 

The young woman simply smiled, a genuine smile on her face as a drop of blood tear fell from her red blood eyes as she strikes her sword. “I wish you luck and farewell, Sung Jinwoo. May death be the end of your boundless dream….guiding you back to the waking world.”

hey guys! i haven't writen in a very long time sahdbsakad, so before i continue this short fic (or not) i wanted to say that my english is not that good and idk which tag i should put this story under tbh so i'll just put it under everything at this point. Cuz like i think an acheron in the world of solo levelling is interesting (she so hot ksajdn) anyways this story would prob be focused on the new world (like the resetted world yk) idk tho help

[johnwickb1tsch]

Vino Veritas - Part IV

A Destination Wedding Frank x Fem!Reader Fic

Attending the wedding of your ex-fiancé gets slightly better when you meet someone having just as miserable a time as you... Warnings: Nothing too serious holy shit. Cursing. Broken engagement. Nihilism, existential bullshit, copious amounts of sarcasm. NSFW. Angst. Grump/sunshine trope. Loosely based on the movie but I'm not that smart. Or bitter. 😆 chapter map.

IV. Showering Together To Conserve Water

You are both tired as you return to the hotel, and maybe a little giddy from what you did in the backcountry of the vineyard. You certainly didn’t drink enough wine at the reception to be stumbling the way you are, and when you nearly trip over your tall shoes again Frank sweeps you up into his arms for the second time that day.

When you look at him with surprise he qualifies, “If you break an ankle, it will ruin my night.”

You chuckle to yourself, and rest your head on his shoulder. It’s a very nice shoulder, broad, solid. If you were braver than you are, you might even dare to think it feels…dependable. It doesn’t escape you, that he carries you like a bride over his threshold, on this day when you watched your ex-fiancé marry someone else.

Frank would be a much better prospect than Keith—but you are not thinking about that.

You’re trying not to, anyway.

The shine doesn’t even diminish while he curses as he fumbles to get out his key. It’s all highly entertaining, and very sweet, and that cloyingly painful ball in your chest only feels like it's growing.

He sets you down on the bed, and immediately sets about unbuckling the ankle straps of your shoes. “These things are an accident waiting to happen.”

“But they make my calves look amazing,” you defend.

He pauses to assess the body parts in question, nodding begrudgingly. “They’re quite nice on their own though. You’re a very attractive woman.”

This hits you a bit like a shovel to the head. You guess he’d complimented your clothes before, but it wasn’t quite the same thing.

“I think you’re very attractive too,” you confess, though you’re sure he already knows it.

The fleeting look on his face isn’t exactly surprise—but you dare think that maybe it moves him too.

“Excellent. We’ve had sex and now we admit we’re attracted to each other,” he deflects with a smirk. “However, I also think you’re dirty after our roll in the hills, and I am too. Want to take a shower?”

You can only presume he means together, and you nod.

*** 

At first you focus solely on washing, which is nice when he lathers his big hands up with soap and runs them all over your body. You’re all too happy to return the favor, which yields the inevitable arousal for both of you.

“I know it’s how it’s done in the movies,” he says between kissing you, “But if I pick you up to fuck you the odds are excellent I will slip and fall and we will both get hurt.”

You’re not entirely disappointed to hear this. You’ve always thought it precarious and awkward anyway. In answer you turn to lean on the shower wall. “How about this?” you suggest, standing on tiptoe to offer your ass up in the air, looking back with a mischievous smile.

“Maybe if we could get you a footstool,” he snarks, before engulfing you with his body behind yours, his front pressed to your back. He grumbles with appreciation as he kisses the back of your neck, his hard member pressing into your spine. “I think we can make this work,” he muses, his voice gone low and gravely with desire. That alone is enough to make you gush between your legs, and when he touches you he finds your slit slick and ready for him. It’s almost embarrassing, really, how much you want it with this man.

When he bends his knees to enter you the both of you moan, the wonderful pressure of his beautiful cock filling you up making you see stars.

It’s also embarrassing, how fast you cum on his fingers with his cock inside you like this, the hard clench of your walls bringing him right along with you again.

“Oh my god,” you pant, pressing your cheek against the cool tiles. You can feel the hot drip of his seed running down your thighs—it’s marvelous, if you’re being honest. It’s wonderful and you’re afraid you never want it to end.

“Yeah,” he agrees, leaning above you, leaving you feeling surrounded by his body and strangely secure in the shelter of his larger form.

“I never—” You stop yourself short, thinking that maybe it’s too much to confess this soon in your budding relationship, if this can even be called yet. Leave it to you, to scare him off straight out the gate.

“Tell me,” he says, almost gently, his throbbing manhood still inside you.

Fuck it.

“I never cum this quickly. I usually get freaked out that I’m taking too long, and it’s a nightmare, and I just end up faking it to make it stop. You are…” You evacuate the breath from your body, so that you don’t say something insane, like you’re a dream come true.

You tense, waiting for the inevitable snide comment that will shatter the moment, but it does not come. He just kisses the back of your head and slides out of you, so that he can stand upright again. However, he does not let go of you, holding you snug against the shelter of his body with an arm still looped around your waist. 

“That sounds crushingly disappointing,” he says against your ear.

“Yeah.” You’re not sure why your throat is suddenly tight, and that’s all you can get out at the moment. You guess before Frank, you weren’t that into it either. 

He turns you in his arms and kisses you again under the warm stream of the shower, so sweetly one would find it hard to believe he’s the same man from before. “I’m honored. And…same.”

“You’ve faked orgasms before?” you ask, incredulous.

“No, but you—this is the best I’ve had in a long time. So…same.”

You nod, and resolve not to pick at it anymore, happy with what you have for now. You rest with your head against his chest, catching your breath, your knees–and your heart–feeling like they’ve turned to jelly.

[lostbetweenvampiresandmusic]

If possible how about 9 & 22 with all four boys? And could you use They/Them pronouns for Reader please? (I'm a Non-binary myself) Thanks in advance <3

9. "I thought you said we were going out for dinner?"

22. "I love you, I really do, but I also really love garlic."

Sure thing! Thanks for requesting (and telling me the right pronouns to use!) I hope you like this!💜

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

The boardwalk was busing as ever, with people flooding the place, children screaming and crying with laughter and vendors yelling about how cheap - or expensive, depending on one's point of view - their goods were. In the midst of this wonderfully bright neon chaos, you could find five people that did not quite fit in. Four of them terrorised the people visiting the boardwalk. Sometimes they scared the children, stole from others, caused general chaos - and it so happened that if you angered them, the chance of ever being seen alive became very nihil. The fifth person with them was me. Even though I did not always go along with the chaotic tendencies of my mates, people did fear me just as much. It was a weird feeling, but appreciated. I could do what I wanted, wear what I wanted, and no one would even dare to say a thing.

"I don't know about you, but I am starving." I looked at the others.

"Why are you always hungry when we go to the boardwalk?" Paul asked with a sigh, one of his arms hanging loosely on my shoulder.

"Maybe because you forget I'm human?"

"So?"

"Also," I gave him a semi stern look. "I thought you said we were going out for dinner?"

"Yeah? Wait, did I?" Paul looked at Marko, who shrugged.

"I don't know, man. Probably."

"Paul, you can't blame them for being hungry," David looked at us as he lit a cigarette, appearing somewhat bored with the whole conversation. I realised however that he was scanning the crowds, probably to pick out the prey for his next hunt. "Go and get some food."

"You're not coming with?" I asked. Dwayne was already walking next to me, and Paul and Marko had practically run straight to the small Chinese restaurant. Seeing that made me sigh a little. It was always Chinese food. Always. And as much as one can enjoy noodles or rice, sometimes you really bloody crave some good pizza or pasta or a focaccia.

"I am. Just need to eat first."

"But-" I looked puzzled for a second. "Oh. Yeah, ehm, I think that's appreciated."

David chuckled, walking the opposite direction. As Dwayne and I walked towards where Paul and Marko were headed, I was glad to see that they were still outside.

"What took you so long?" Marko asked, a teasing grin on his face. I shrugged. "Just keeping tabs. Need to know where you all are and such."

"Ah, see, I told you it was simply because they care about us," Marko looked at Paul, who nodded.

"I think it's more than just 'care' at this point," Dwayne said as he was about to open the door towards the Chinese restaurant.

"Yeah, me too. Ehm-"

"What?"

"I mean, I don't want to be rude or anything..."

"What?" Paul looked at me, asking it again.

"And I mean, I love Chinese food, from time to time, but -"

"What's wrong with Chinese?" David's sudden presence caused me to jump - causing him to chuckle.

"Last time I was eating actual worms, David."

"It was all in good fun."

"That may be, and I mean, I truly don't mind it sometimes, but I am really craving Italian tonight."

"If you know a place that doesn't use garlic in everything, we can get Italian."

"Or-" I said, knowing that the chances of that were likely zero- "I could get Italian, you could get Chinese and everyone would be happy?"

"Why do you want Italian that badly? Spaghetti is just a different kind of noodle!" Marko grinned, causing me to roll my eyes.

"Because I love garlic? And I like my spaghetti or other pasta with garlic?"

"I feel betrayed!" Paul gasped, a huge grin on his face.

"I thought you loved us?" Dwayne asked, his tone serious. I nodded.

"I love you, I really do, but I also really love garlic."

"Well, lucky for you," David pulled me towards him, "garlic doesn't do shit to us."

"What the fuck? So I spent months avoiding garlic in everything so I wouldn't accidentally hurt you guys, and now you tell me?" I looked at David, then at the others, and back. "I shouod have known - they use garlic practically everywhere! Oh I hate you guys!"

Dwayne chuckled. "Do you still want to get Italian?"

"Yes! And just so you know, the next month it is only going to be Italian. I need to catch up on all the garlic I missed!"

[emeritus-fuckers]

How would the Papas react to SO asking them to lay on them? Like in a non sexual way?

Hope you like this, I kind of themed it wiht an autumn vibe as it's windy, cold and rainy as I write this! :) - Nyx

Papas laying on their darling in a non-sexual way

Primo

You are both curled up on the sofa together sipping tea, the wind and rain lashing against the window a blanket over you both.

You shiver a little and think now would be a good time to ask. You've been wanting to ask him for a while but never found the right moment.

"Sounds lovely tesoro come here" He smiles warmly, and you wonder why you were nervous about asking in the first place.

He lies down as asked and lets out a contented sigh. "Is that better for you?"

He's happy to see you comfortable and relaxed. He rests his head on your chest and starts to drift off slightly, you pull the blanket back over the both of you.

Secondo

You havn't been together that long at this point. So as you start your question you begin to stutter under his intense gaze.

He keeps the stern stare for a moment before it drops into a bemused loving smile.

"I've never had such a request before, but I am more than happy to oblige."

He takes it seriously, more so than you expected, he just wants you to be happy and feel good.

He constantly checks to make sure you are comfortable and okay. He also enjoys the closeness of it.

Terzo

Terzo has just taken you out for the nicest meal at his favourite restuarant. As you get to his rooms you are greeted by a crackling fire. He walks straight over to it and warms his hands.

"Your Papa is freezing" he says with a little grin "can you help him?"

You know he's trying his luck to get you into bed but now feels like the right time to ask. You are both exhuasted after busy days.

"Of course we can... I understand you want to be close to me, you are only human after all amore"

He knows you don't mean in a sexual way, he can tell by how you asked but he still gives you a little flirty wink as he holds his arms out for you. He finds it really intimate. He's so happy to have someone that wants to be close with him like this. Someone who is with him for more than just lust.

Copia

You have just finished carving pumpkins together and Copia proudly places them out.

He comes back and pulls you to him grinning "This is going to be the best halloween ever! I get to spend it with you!"

He asks you what you would like to do for the rest of the evening and you tell him. He immediatly understands, his face lighting up.

"Sì sì of course amore! I hope you can do the same for me sometime soon eh?" He just totally gets it, he always wanted to ask something similar.

He is happy to lie there as long as you want, both of you content. You both at some point try and play a video game like this.

Old Nihil

He's gazing at you lovingly while nursing a mug of pumpkin spiced latte (cooled down with plenty of milk).

You ask him and he just keeps gazing so you ask again louder.

He grins, properly grins and gathers you up his arms. He's just so happy to see you happy so he will do whatever you.

You giggle as he asks if you are okay when it's him that sounds like he is having trouble lying down in the first place.

But once you are both comfortable Nihil declares its one of the best afternoons he's ever had. Just you and him together and happy. He lovingly plays with your hair as you lay there.

Young Nihil

"You want me to do what now babe?" He laughs a little but it's lovingly. He thinks you are so cute.

"I mean sure honey why not" He picks you up and carries you to the bed throwing you down.

"Normally I'd do something else with you right now, but if this makes you happy that's all I care about."

As you both lie there he tells you about all his plans for his songs. About the best times he had playing in the band. How he hopes one day his songs will be sung by thousands, maybe even hundreds of thousands of people.

He places soft loving kisses on your cheeks. Then he buries his face in the crook of your neck "I love you" he sighs happily.

~

Written by Nyx

Taglist: @ivyanddaisies @copias-fluffy-asscheeks @lunarsromantichomicide @randodummy @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @calliedion-dungeon @nuntia @dio-niisio @mamacarlyle @firefirevampire @mybotanicaldemise @emo-mess @natoncesaid @sirlsplayland @ouijaboardemo @lightbluuestars @igodownjustlikeholymary @thatoddboy @strawberriiblossoms @dark-angel-is-back

[visibleclosedeyes]

✧ᴀ ᴛʜᴏᴜꜱᴀɴᴅ ʏᴇᴀʀ ᴠᴏʏᴀɢᴇ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡɪꜱᴅᴏᴍ ᴏꜰ ᴀʙꜱᴏʟᴜᴛᴇ ɴɪʜɪʟɪᴛʏ✧

IX x reader

1k words Ao3 version here

To repeat how and why you ended up in this position would be like trying to recant the story of several centuries of here and there, so at some point, you just let it go—let the words you had once told centuries ago washed away into the ever-flowing stream of the intergalactic void.

But as an emanator of the Nihility —perhaps this suits you best.

Today and yesterday and tomorrow and last year and a century have been blended together like an ever-growing vortex of void—at some point, nothing really matters that much, including your life story. Perhaps this is how IX feels, all the time. Maybe they were a breathtakingly beautiful creature that rivaled that of the Aeon of beauty and the abundance Yaoshi—but then they had touched the darkness that is the pit of this universe, and—and now they lost all those faces because it hardly ever mattered which form they took.

You understood you thought—as you have touched nihilism too. Or, to be accurate, IX has gazed upon you. Only those with an unrestrained arrogance dare to compare their plight to those with Aeonic status. But you thought, at the very least, you get a fraction of how they felt.

“Big or small, all things are touched by the same bottomless meaningless vortex,” Aeon of Nihility told you once, a fraction of truth is still truth nonetheless.

“Why are you planting seeds into the ground?” IX asked. Although their voice was low and acoustic; bouncing all over this fabricated dimension used for holding IX themselves when they went to sleep, you can feel the genuine curiosity behind those blob eyes of theirs.

“ Someone has said to me once that beautiful flowers help people get into a better mood,”

“ Maybe for mortals, but those tricks don't work on us who knows,” IX said. Even with a rather distant and monotone, there is a hint of somewhat concern.

“I know,” you said—your voice, too, was bouncing off the metaphorical wall. It created the signature acoustic sounds that, as you remember, were once disorienting when you first arrived here. Now? It would have been weird to not hear a slight echo in your or their voice.

You kneeled, the gray and tender sand soil you have gathered in your palm felt cold. It shines against the soft light emitting from the other side where IX was crawling opposing it. The light existed alongside the nihility, belonging to the Doctor of Chaos. “—You don’t have to be too worried. This is mostly for them,” when you continued speaking, the sand was allowed to slide past your hand—it flowed down, but immediately dissolved mid-air into nothingness.

“All things that exist would come to its conclusion. And all things exist for one single purpose; to exist, to continue to exist, and then struggle for that existence—against the unknown, against the others. Only when they no longer could stomach this any longer, shall they perish—left nothing behind,” the Nihility said, Their tone was rather melodic despite the absolutely horrifying speech they have given to you. Yet, it didn’t shake you. Perhaps, being their emanator has some interesting and useful additional benefits.

“I understand, and you are right more than wrong. Still, I plant this for them,”

“ If I am right, then who else is them ?”

“ Those who will walk this path, the same path that I did, and those who will receive that gaze of yours,” you said with an amused yet exhausted smile on your face.

“ No, no. There will be no others. You are selected, but there will be no more others. You are my first and the last emanator,” IX burst out—a rather strange demeanor from those who hold the status of an Aeon; but then again—we don’t really know all that much about Aeon after all. They almost sound anxious—almost but you just burst out laughing.

“Are…you laughing? At an Aeon..?”

“Who else would I be laughing at?”

“…why?” The aeon exclaimed with a voice filled with a hint of annoyance. You inhaled—trying your best to suppress the laugh that seemed to be indefinitely pouring out.

“You are wrong about most things, you were wrong then before you gazed upon me, and you’re wrong now that you assumed you won’t gaze at anyone again,” you said. Most of the dirt in your palm was already gone. Turn around to face your Aeon who, to best describe it—seems to be in absolute shock. Mortals or immortals with less significance do not challenge Aeon, and if they do it will be done not in such a flippancy like this. IX has faced hostility by mortals before by the name of ‘annihilation gangs’, it was…something for several seconds…and then they were nothing, swallowed whole by the crushing weight of nothingness. But—you are special, IX recognized that genes the Aeon’s gaze that craved a mental scar of nihility into your mind. Yet, uniqueness does not exempt you from absolute nothingness. In time, you will perish, and the millions of steps you have to take to be at this point will quickly be washed away by the current of time…and the ever-looming, uncaring silence of the universe. Like the dirt that no longer sits among your fingers, your life will soon slip from the grasp of the Aeon.

And yet—yet, this fact did not dim your light, not one bit. You know full well of the approaching darkness at all of the universe’s corridors—they have let you see it yourself. Still, you have insisted on the very same stand you have held before. Despite not chasing foolishly trying to create artificial meaning to life and the universe—you have understood and even believed the same thing IX believed, you have chosen to face such issues with a totally opposite reaction they have expected.

You faced your Aeon now, the metaphorical barren land of gray and emptiness was now occupied by blooming bio-fluorescent white flowers. It shines bright, but not too bright where it hurts—but bright enough to stand firm against the blackest of black sky that enveloped the garden and both entities facing each other.

“Before you crowned me as your emanator, you had none before. You don't believe in bestowing your ‘blessings’ upon anyone—you have seen no point in it, and you believed no beings could tolerate such nihilistic gaze anyway. Then you gazed at me, I suffered from you and I survived, and I got better. You said, in the face of looming darkness, I will understand and change my way—and I have not changed, before or after,”

IX looked straight into the eyes of their emanator and thought— why is she so difficult? But perhaps that is why she interests me…

“You are unbelievable, breathtakingly chaotic,” IX said with exasperation but their gaze was soft, as soft as a freshly cleaned wool. Something rather surprising coming from the Aeon represents coldness and emptiness.

“Now stop bothering me, I want to sleep…” With that, IX closed their eyes—essentially turning themselves into a mass of darkening black hole that seems to suck away all the life force surrounding it. This made-up space for you and them has dimmed its light, the world was asleep now as both you and the garden of light fell into the dark. You sat down, in an environment with minimal light, and closed your eyes too—drifting into a state of inactivity like your Aeon. Still, you and the garden emit soft light like a nightlight for the Aeon to anchor on. IX didn’t need it, and yet… you wanted to do it.

This place should be hell for any other, but for you—you felt comforted by the presence of the Nihility. It’s true that you were now in the darkness swallow but this darkness itself soothed you—just like the Nihility has too. Tomorrow, there will be work to do; but now you just want to rest beside your aeon. Basking silently in each other comfort.

[circle--of--confusion]

The Cardinal and the Seamstress

Hello, all! This is my first Ghost fanfic! I have been in a Dracopia brainrot due to a knitting project I'm formulating and then I saw an edit that got my brain cogs CHURNING. Hopefully you enjoy!

Pairing: (dracopia) Cardinal Copia x OC

Summary: the Cardinal is suddenly thrust into the spotlight and finds solace in the clergy's sewing departments' assistant, Sarah

Warnings: mentions of blood, biting

Words: ~1.7k

Chapter 1 - Introductions and Intrigue

| ONE | TWO | THREE | FOUR | FIVE |

Read on AO3

banner and dividers courtesy of: gothdaddyissues AND ghuleh-recs

Cardinal Copia is a man who considers himself someone who cannot be distracted easily. Centuries on this Earth have taught him the focus he needs to bring the Clergy to great success over the years, up to the leadership of Papa Emeritus the Third. Terzo. Lately, however, Copia’s mind keeps wandering while he looks over ancient texts for future Black Mass sermons. There’s... instability brewing amongst the higher-ranking members. Sister Imperator has kept her mouth shut during this whole ordeal. Terzo is no longer going to front the Ghost project but there hasn’t been any word on who will be the next Papa.

At least, this is what Copia tells himself that this is what his mind is occupied about. It can’t help that the new clergy seamstress assistants keep coming to him with fabric samples. Why should he care? Its just a new cassock. What good would his opinion be on fabric? Though, he will admit, heightened senses do make certain material an absolute nightmare to wear.

The past few days have been nagging at him. He’s felt restless. Anxious, even. Copia stands and walks over to his drinks cart. A quick sip of anything to calm his mind! He has an important meeting with Imperator and Papa Nihil today, whatever that may be about.

Tape measure… pencils and eraser… notebooks… Rullers…

 The sound of a door opening broke Sister Sarah’s concentration. A big project is coming upon the clergy sewing department and the upper members have been silent about it to anyone but Sister Amelia, the head of the sewing department.

“I was curious if you were going to be getting here via trike. Ha!” Sister Amelia shouts behind her, chuckling at her joke while walking into the studio space.

A voice responds back. “Oh! Ehe.. You uh.. know about that?”

Cardinal Copia?

Sister Amelia chuckles. “Word travels fast in these hallowed halls, Cardinal Copia.”

“Ah.”  Is all the Cardinal can respond with. His mouth forms an awkward straight line. He looks down to the floor and fidgets with his hands.

Sarah can’t help but be endeared to the old cardinal. Most members of the clergy can be uptight but not Copia. In his devoted service to the clergy, he always seems to be able to bring his own sense of whimsy. His cassocks are well pressed and his hair is slicked back, barely a strand out of place, but he likes to unwind by riding a tricycle around the halls. Who does that?!

“Hello Cardinal! It’s a pleasure to see you.” Sarah says. He looks startled.

“Yes, ciao Sister…” He takes her hand. “Mi dispiace, Sister my mind has been in twenty different directions today” The cardinal responds.

“It’s Sarah, Cardinal.”

“Sarah. Bene.” he bows his head at her.

A small blush spreads to the surface of her cheeks. She stares at her hand after the cardinal lets go. It feels tingly. How odd.

Sister Amelia gestures to Copia and the small platform in the middle of the room. “Please, Cardinal, step onto this platform so we can get your measurements. Oh, Sarah, could you please go and fetch my binder of men’s suit pattern blocks? Our dear Cardinale is going to need a new wardrobe!” She looks back to Copia.

Sarah’s ears perked up. Is Cardinal Copia going to head the Ghost project? Does Papa Terzo know? Am I allowed to know this information?

“Right away!” Sarah responds, dashing to the pattern closet. Lost in her thoughts, it takes a couple tries through the binders to find the correct one. Before leaving she thinks to grab a roll of pattern paper.

“Great instincts in grabbing the pattern paper. I’m thinking we make something… different this time and it will require new pattern pieces to work with.” Amelia looks to Copia. “Cardinal? What would your opinion be if we made the pants more... fitted to you than normal?” Amelia has a smirk on her face that could only lead to mischief. Copia looks like he just might pass out.

“Sister Amelia I am not sure I can fully visualize it but I trust your judgement!” Copia responds.

Amelia nods and gets to work. Over the next 40 minutes she measures Copia while Sarah notes it down. Occasionally she’ll make a note on more fabrics to consider or colors. Copia stands as still as possible and follows the direction of Amelia on when to raise his arms. Sarah notices for this fitting that Copia’s mind seems elsewhere. His eyes wandering off only to occasionally flit back on her through the mirror’s reflection. Even through the reflection in the mirror, Copia’s eyes pierced into her soul. Occasionally the Cardinal’s hands flex in his gloves and then balls them into fists, repeating it a few times before stopping.  

Copia walks into his quarters with a deep, tired sigh. It’s been a long day. His hallway “meeting” with Sister Imperator and Papa Nihil was… enlightening. ���New blood” Copia remarks to himself. How ironic. Walking into his bedroom to change he glances at the calendar and immediately his eyes widen at what he has written for the next few days. 

“Merda!” Copia slaps his hands to his face and grimaces. Today is a feeding day! He walks out of his bedroom and over to the refrigerator for the blood bags he keeps on hand for these days. Bless this clergy. His vampiric condition is well known amongst the clergy and volunteers have given their blood to help Copia when he needs nourishment. To at least feel some dignity he fetches a wine glass from the cabinet and pours the blood into it.

Wine glass now filled, he moves to a plush chair in the living room. He lets out a content sigh at the first few sips. How could I let this sneak up on me? He thinks. It’s all the work! The Ministry has asked so much of him in the last few months. And now he will lead the Ghost Project? That couldn’t possibly be what they’re thinking?

He takes another sip of the wine. Sister Sarah? Is she new? Copia ponders if he’s seen her around the halls. She seemed excited to meet him. She must be a recently inducted member of the clergy. Maybe she was just one of the several seamstress assistants Amelia recently acquired and was anxious to get started. Copia hadn’t remembered any faces of the siblings who come into his office with requests from their bosses. He’s so used to people asking things from him he seldom remembers their faces. Only their voices ever seem to register while he pours through his work.

Another sip. Copia is almost fully back to himself. The blood is working well to improve his mood after this hellish day. I wonder if I’ll be seeing more of Sister Sarah at these fittings? Copia looks at his almost finished glass of blood “wine”. Hmm. I wonder what her blood might taste like on my tongue- Cazzo! Copia sits up straighter in his chair. Where did that come from?

Sarah is making her way down to the dining area for dinner after Amelia dismissed her for the day. The Cardinal has not left her mind since their whole encounter this afternoon. His eyes. She cannot get those duo chrome eyes out of her head. Maybe this ministry is all so new still. Sarah thinks. I’ll get used it.

  Food and drink in hand she makes her way to a table to eat. A fellow assistant of Amelia’s flags down Sarah to come eat with him. Alex, she remembers. Very helpful in keeping up with Amelia’s fast paced work. Sarah smiles to Alex for keeping a seat open.

“No worries, newbie.” Alex jokes. “I could tell from across the room you were a bit frazzled.”

“Shes just so… y’know?” Sarah huffs while taking a bite of food.

“Oh. I know. Every new assistant that comes through Amelia’s studio in the beginning gets what I like to call “The Gauntlet”. Full-on chaos for the first month or so.”

 “A month?”

“Or so! Depends on the project.” He muses.

Sarah hangs her head. “I have a feeling this will be longer than ‘a month or so’, Alex.”

“Welp! Stock up on snacks. She likes to pull all-nighters towards the end.” Alex responds kindly.

For a while they sit in silence while they eat. Sarah uses this time to take in all the sights and sounds of the mundane in something as absurd as a satanic ministry. She notices the upper clergy all eating their meals together like how teachers would eat together at lunch in school. Though, she thinks someone is missing. Cardinal Copia.

She turns to Alex. “Hey, where’s Cardinal Copia? It’s dinner time. He’s gonna miss the meal window.”

“Wait. You don’t know? He doesn’t exactly, uh, eat with everyone else all the time.” Alex looks surprised.

“I’m not following.” Sarah responds.

Alex rips off the Band-Aid. “He’s a vampire.”

Sarah laughs. Loud. Some surrounding clergy members turn around in their seats at the commotion. “Oh, wait, you’re serious?” Sarah stops laughing. “He’s a vampire?” Alex nods. “Full-on, blood sucking creature of the night?” Another nod from Alex. “Well, shit.” Sarah sits back in her chair, stunned.

Alex chuckles. “Yeah it always takes new members by surprise. Somehow devils and demons are easy to believe thanks to the presence of the Ghouls. But Copia’s vampirism is drawing the line!”  Alex waives his hands dramatically.        

“So… How does he get blood? Does he ever feed off of anyone?”

“Siblings volunteer to give blood. He needs a good amount to feed off of but only has to do it every 2 or 3 weeks. Depends on his mood and let me tell you-“ Alex warns. “You do not want to be in his way when he’s getting too close to the threshold of feeding.

Sarah nods her head. “Noted.”              

A short while later dinner is done and all the siblings and clergy members head back to their rooms. Alex’s words hadn’t left her mind. Vampire. Her hand, the one Copia held, comes to her mind as well; the buzzy feeling she felt earlier today comes back. That night Sarah dreamed of a particular Cardinal in red. Two-toned eyes circled in black paint and baring sharp teeth. She had dreams of sharp teeth imbedded in her neck sending tingly feelings all over her body while she slept.

I hope you enjoyed it! Let me know what you think :) I aim to update once a week if I can get my brain to work.