#Idk if I’d ever added that tag | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

blackreaderfics · 1 year ago

Text

🎃Wildcard | Jason Todd x Reader🎃

↳ Pairing : TitansDCverse!Jason Todd x Virgin!Reader

↳ Rating : E (18+ minors dni‼️)

↳ Summary : A round of Cards Against Humanity gets a little wild during “Game Night” at Titans Tower

↳ W.C : ~3.4k

↳ A/N : welcome to spooky season. this is my first ever fic for kinktober🧡👻 idk if this is controversial buuut I love that actor’s portrayal of Jason🫣

↳ Tags + Warnings: dubcon elements, oral (male receiving), face-fucking, orgy, stripping, degradation (“slut”), coercion, alcohol consumption (beer), teabagging, bullyish!jason x shyish!reader, reader wears glasses, reader is a virgin, jason is kinda a dickhead lol, side characters (rachel, rose, gar, and conner) are there, for sake of convenience they’re all 21+

Part 2

“Oh come on,” Jason groaned exasperatedly as you set your glasses on the coffee table. “Glasses don’t fucking count!”

After a successful mission and saving the world for the hundredth time, the Titans decided to unwind in the best way they knew how: a night in with board games and beer.

As usual, Jason had tried to make the games a little bit more exciting by adding a “fun twist”. Jenga became a drinking game; drink if you make the tower fall. Uno had become “draw or dare”, you could choose to draw four cards or get off scot-free by doing a dare.

The “grownups” of the team—Dick, Kory, Hank, and Dawn— had excused themselves to do “grownup things” leaving you and the remaining group of young adults in the living room. Currently, you were now in the middle of another particularly heated game of Cards Against Humanity, the interesting twist being the person with the best card could choose for someone to strip an article of clothing.

Jason had been targeting you the whole night; teasing you for the baggy clothes you always wore. Purposely, just to annoy him, you’d only taken off your accessories and your zip-up hoodie.

Admittedly the clothes you wore didn’t really fit you right. You’d opted to wear oversized sweaters over fitted shirts, and unflattering pants over a more hip-hugging and slimming fit. Before you became a Titan, you were shyer than you were now. It had only been recently when you started to come out of your shell and get closer to your teammates.

“Be for real. Glasses do so count!” You retorted. You had all but discarded your outer layers and were now left in pants and a tank top. You could take up a few turns with your socks and shoes if you needed to.

“Why do you guys wear so many layers?” Gar piped up. All he had on were his boxers and a single sock. Conner, who was sitting next to him, was equally fucked, only, with no socks as a buffer.

“Because we play idiotic games like this,” Rachel remarked dryly while drawing an extra card from the pile.

You and Rachel were the only ones currently safe from any unnecessary exposure. Rachel did wear a lot of layers, and despite having lost multiple rounds, still looked very much clothed. Rose sat far off on the kitchen counter with a bowl of cereal looking on with about as much judgment as a girl with one working eye could.

“You know, offer still stands. You can still join us, Rose,” Jason addressed the grey-haired, eye-patch-wearing girl without looking up from the cards in his hands.

“Hard pass. I’d rather watch you losers get destroyed.” She then unceremoniously returned to munching on her cornflakes.

Your gaze settled on Jason who’d shed his leather jacket and still remained in a plain black tee and jeans. He was unfairly attractive in the most basic of clothes. And though you hated his playground jibes and dirty humor, you couldn’t help but develop a little bit of a crush on the messy-haired boy. When his eyes caught yours, you could see the wheels in his brain practically turning as his smirk grew wider.

“How about…” He started slowly, “Boys versus girls. If you guys win, then we’ll get naked. If we win, you guys get naked.”

Of course he would suggest that, you thought to yourself glumly. The thought of showing your naked body to your crush didn’t excite you, it only made you more nervous.

“You’re just saying that ‘cuz you’re losing,” you said, masking your anxiety with a chug of your beer, “Conner’s literally only got his underwear left.”

Conner, hearing his name, suddenly perked up. “For the record, I have x-ray vision. I can already see everything anywa—” Gar nudged him in the ribs to keep him from talking.

Jason shook his head. “It’s no fun if we already know who’s gonna win. Let’s vote on it then. Who here agrees to a wildcard match?” He raised his hand, and predictably the two other boys followed suit. “And who wants to play the way we’ve been playing; the boring virgin Y/N way?” He taunted cheekily.

You felt your cheeks warm again. He was never letting you live down the fact that you had confessed you were still a virgin during a past game of “Never Have I Ever”. You raised your hand and looked around for support. “Rachel,” you hissed desperately when you found she had not raised her hand.

“Seriously? They suck at this game. It’s not like they’re gonna suddenly win out of nowhere," Rachel whispered back.

“In that case, I’ll play too,” Rose hopped off the counter and plopped on the couch next to you.

“So nice of you to finally join us,” Jason crooned. “I’ll let you do the honors.” He passed her the deck he’d been shuffling for her to deal and sat back.

After Rose had dealt all the cards, you looked at your hand. The deck you were playing with was a custom-made deck that Dick had ordered to round out the Tower’s impressive board game collection.

As a collective, you all pooled in ideas resulting in a deck of cards ranging from the peculiar to the mundane; from “taking shots off Nightwing’s ass”; to “Batman’s Worst Nightmare”; to names of each of your superhero aliases including all of the Justice League. For some reason, however, all the cards in your current hand were names.

“Make me laugh,” Rose ordered primly as she set down her card and folded her arms in expectation. It read:

“If I could fuck anyone right now, I would fuck ______”

“Damn,” Rachel sounded impressed, “that’s certainly one way to start a round.”

Gar immediately threw his card down, followed by Rachel, then Jason. Only Conner and you were left.

“Time’s ticking Y/N,” Jason tapped a nonexistent watch on his wrist. Usually you would fire a comeback at him, but this time you could only frown as you chose your safest option and slid it tentatively over to the pile in the middle.

“Time’s up, Conner,” Rose said as she gathered the cards. He passed it over face down, obviously not very happy about his choice.

“Okay, we have a ‘Wonder Woman’, a ‘Poison Ivy’….” She glanced around the room to see if anyone would give themselves away. “A ‘Robin’—wait...” She barked out a laugh. “I can’t not address this. I pick this one. Who fucking put down Robin?”

The room erupted into fits of laughter rivaling a high school classroom as they watched you sigh and bashfully raise your hand.

“Oh, would you now?” Jason raised a curious eyebrow at you.

“I-in my defense, there’s more than one Robin,” you sputtered pitifully before he could tease you further. You watched him stand up and begin to raise his shirt, giving you an eyeful of v-line and toned midriff. “W-what are you doing! I didn’t pick you!”

Despite being only in a tank top, you felt yourself getting hot. Gar and Conner had equally toned bodies, but they weren’t affecting you the way Jason had been. Just to spite you, he kept his eyes on yours as he raised his shirt as suggestively as possible, bringing it up over his head and tossing it in a pile on his leather jacket.

“Just giving the person who wants to ‘fuck me right now’ a little preview.” He said, smile smug like he was doing charity for letting you see his 6-pack.

Yea, real fucking Mother Theresa.

“Well, too bad I can barely see it.” You waved a hand in front of your face, “No glasses remember?”

“Come sit on my lap, mama, I’ll give you a closer look.” Jason plopped back on the sofa, abs flexing as he reclined with his legs spread wide, inviting you to sit with a pat on his thigh and a wicked smirk to match.

“Ugh, gross,” Rose made a face but appeared to be humored by Jason’s antics.

“Anyway,” you interrupted desperately trying to change the subject. “Since I won, technically that means the girls won too. Rules are rules.”

You had barely even finished your sentence when the boys immediately moved to take off their clothes. Your mouth went dry as they sat nonchalantly before you now, cocks resting against their stomachs.

In any other situation, you’d probably find this extremely inappropriate. They were your teammates. Sure, you lived together and had walked in on the occasional member changing or just getting out of the shower, but you were a bit buzzed off of the booze already, and this was different— you couldn’t help but stare.

“So uh…what now?” Gar’s nervous laugh broke the silence and everyone turned towards him; he blushed under the newfound attention.

“New game?” Conner suggested. He appeared to be just as clueless as Gar but with less of the blushing.

Rose looked over at you and Rachel for guidance, but seeing as neither of you knew how to react, the grey-haired girl merely shrugged back at the boys. “I’m down.”

“Ok, new game,” Jason agreed. “If you can make all of us cum in 10 minutes then the girls can get TV remote control privileges for the rest of the year.”

“All of you including Conner?” You asked brow raised, “He’s a super, that’s not fair.”

“What? It’s not like he has ‘super cum control’ too.”

“Actually, yea I—”

“Don’t answer that,” Jason cut in, annoyed. “Ok fine, I’ll give a handicap. If you can make one of us cum in 5 minutes untouched then the TV’s all yours.”

“Do you think we’re stupid, Todd?” Rachel narrowed her eyes at him.

“Well…” He paused and tapped a finger to his chin to consider Rachel’s rhetorical question, flinching playfully when she raised her fist to jab in his direction. “Ok ok, but 5 minutes is a long time!”

“I meant the untouched part.”

“Your handicap is you can’t touch us, and our handicap is Logan.” He jabbed a thumb to gesture at Gar who looked like he was meditating to calm himself down. “He’ll probably reach the big ‘O’ before he reaches nirvana.”

“Deal, but if it’s gonna be like that then let’s raise the stakes a little.” Rose countered. “Not just remote control privileges. We get control privileges. Over you guys. If we win, you have to do whatever we say for the rest of the year.”

Jason fished his phone out from the pocket of his jacket and set the timer for 5 minutes. “And if we win, the same for us too.” He started the timer and sat back.

You, Rachel, and Rose made a beeline for Gar, who’d still had his eyes squeezed closed in the middle of the sofa.

“Fuckin’ hell, I should’ve known you’d try ‘n cheat,” Jason grumbled and stopped the timer. “No double or triple-teaming. One to one only and I get to choose the pairs.”

“And why should you be the one to choose that?” You turned toward him, trying (and failing) not to look at his dick. It was long and thick, with a slight curve and a pretty pink color at the tip.

“‘Cuz you wanna fuck me so bad,” he simpered, an impish grin playing on his lips.

“Oh god,” You rolled your eyes.

“Let him choose,” Rose challenged unfazed at Jason’s constant goalpost moving. “Whatever strategy he thinks he has isn’t gonna work.”

Jason ignored her and carried on with making the pairs. “Rachel and Conner, Rose and Gar.” He pointed directly at you, “You and me.”

Upon his directions, the three of you moved to stand in front of your now-designated partners. Finally satisfied, Jason set the timer again and pressed start. Almost immediately Rachel and Rose set to work on their mission, stripping their clothes down to their underwear. You tentatively followed suit, shimmying out of your jeans and kicking them aside. Jason eyed you, fully reclined in his seat with his hands comfortably behind his head.

“Well, this is gonna be easier than I thought,” He yawned, looking as nonchalant as ever.

“I doubt your porn-addled brain has ever seen a real woman before, Jason.” The taunts you directed at him should’ve sounded more confident, but instead were dulled by your nervous fidgeting at the hem of your shirt.

This was the first time you’d ever been half-naked in front of a boy. And not just any boy, but a boy you liked. But the way he always seemed to tease you and make sexually insensitive jokes at your expense made you anxious. It wasn’t overt bullying, but the little comments he would sneak here and there were beginning to eat at you. If you showed him any more of your body, would he make fun of you even more?

“Trust me, I’ve seen plenty,” He assured, “But how ‘bout you jog my memory and demonstrate?” His gaze moved down your chest and back up to your eyes, daring you to take it off.

You fidgeted again under his stare, feeling a sensation growing in the pit of your stomach. It was a mix of anxiety, embarrassment, and something else you could quite place. When you glanced over to the other pairs, Rachel had already taken her top off and Rose was in the middle of a strip tease.

“Four minutes,” Jason announced, with a bored expression.

Feeling a sense of urgency, you pulled off your tank top, exposing your lacy bra. When his dick twitched, both your eyes shifted to the hardening situation in his lap. You could see him fighting the urge to touch himself now, and that gave you a burst of confidence.

Rachel and Rose were now in between Gar and Conner’s legs, not touching them, but teasing them by blowing hot air on their cocks. You followed suit, with only three minutes left you had to do something. After all, forfeiting your will to the whims of three boys with raging hormones didn’t seem like a fun idea, especially since you knew how playfully vindictive they could get. They’d probably try and make you human furniture or whatever other sick and twisted thing they could think of. You shuddered at the thought of the kind of torture they could come up with.

You sank to your knees and sat between Jason’s legs. You watched him involuntarily swallow and sit up straighter, pulling his hands down from his head to steady himself and clutch at the couch cushion beneath him.

“Three minutes,” Jason glanced at his phone, but he wasn’t as confident as he was before. If anything, he seemed much more distracted by your presence at his feet.

Satisfied with his change in demeanor, you only smiled at him, fluttering your lashes at him as you brought your mouth closer to his balls. You opened your mouth and exhaled softly.

He hastily brought a hand to his cock—beads of precum already spilling from its tip—and made minute motions with the pad of his thumb to calm himself down. His chest raised with shallow breaths as he looked down at you now, eyes heavily lidded with lust and wanting.

“Fuck it—” He hissed and without warning, reached his other hand around the back of your head, pushing your nose into his balls as he began to jerk off. Your eyes widened, taken by surprise at his sudden actions.

From where you were kneeling you could already see Rachel and Rose giving their partners full-on blowjobs, completely forgetting the game they had agreed to earlier. The sensation in your stomach moved down to your clothed sex, and you could feel a tingling sensation as he rubbed your face obscenely against his balls, moaning with need.

“Open your mouth —oh fuck— please.” His voice sounded strangled as he held you at the base of his cock, masturbating desperately to chase his release.

You obliged his request, opening up and taking his balls into your mouth, looking up at him as you felt his grip on the nape of your neck tighten. He was clearly getting off from the sight of you beneath him, massaging thoroughly with the flat of your tongue. He brought your head back and, with his other hand, held his cock by the base.

He groaned again when he saw your lips now glossy with spit. “Open f’me again, baby?” he asked despite the fact that the tip of his cock was already being pressed to your lips. Your cheeks warmed as he let out a moaning “fuuuck” when you opened your mouth again to allow him inside. He pushed your head down deeper to take all of him in, and your eyes began to water as the tip of his cock grazed the back of your throat.

“You don’t know how fucking pretty you look with my cock in your mouth, Y/N,” he murmured, releasing the pressure off your head for you to catch your breath. He let out a short laugh as if your gasping for air was funny to him.

“Had no idea you were such a fucking slut under all those clothes. How’re you a virgin when you’re takin’ my cock this good, hm?” His voice was gentle and soft but borderline condescending as he spoke.

Jason brushed away a tear from your eye and leaned over to bring you into an open-mouthed and sloppy kiss, tasting himself on your tongue. A string of saliva connected at both of your lips when you separated.

“Gonna fuck that pretty little mouth of yours. Keep it open,” He instructed. Within seconds he was guiding your head back on his cock, bucking up into your mouth and against your throat. You made a garbled sound, which only seemed to make him thrust harder.

“Oh fu— that’s so fuckin’ good, baby keep doin’ that,” he moaned, though you weren’t doing much except letting your head loll up and down like a brainless doll with the support of his hand at the back of your neck.

The living room was now filled with the pleasured moans of the three boys and the gagging ‘gluck gluck’ sounds of the three girls as each of them fucked into your mouths, getting off on the lewdly slick sounds of their cocks pistoning in and out in a relentless rhythm. Your mouths became just another hole for them to fuck.

“Shit—” His hips stuttered; he was close. He brought both hands to your head pushing it down so your nose pressed against his base. “You know how to swallow right, baby?” He grunted.

You couldn’t respond with words readily—your nose was plugged and his cock clogged your windpipe— instead, your throat closed over his tip, as if a Pavlovian response to his question. He groaned and not shortly after, you felt his hot cum shooting down your throat.

When his softening cock finally left your mouth, you swallowed his sticky release as best as you could with your punished throat. He swiped some of the cum the had dribbled down your lips with his thumb and pushed it past your lips, making you suck it.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he said breathlessly as he watched you suck his thumb, mesmerized by the way your eyes locked on him. A loud moan from Gar interrupted, making both you and Jason tear your eyes off each other. The green-haired boy was currently stroking his cum onto Rose’s waiting tongue. About a minute later, Conner came too.

It was only then that you realized that Jason had come the fastest; faster than the “handicap” he’d claimed Gar to be.

“So…I’m guessing that means we won?” Rachel had already started pulling her clothes back on. Since she started dressing, everyone else mundanely followed suit.

Jason tugged his jeans back on, “Sure. Fine. Whatever, we’re all yours for the next three months,” he sounded less than enthused but still took the time to find your discarded tank top and jeans and toss them over to you as well.

Rose threw her shirt back on and adjusted her eyepatch. “Girls, what are we thinking? Anything we want our new servants to do for us?”

“Hmm…” You tapped your chin in mock thought, giving Jason a sly look that could give one of his own cheeky smirks a run for its money. “Oh, I‘ve got a few ideas.”

©️ blackreaderfics // dividers by cafekitsune & poison-aesthetics

#the boys were playing checkers while the girls were playing chess 😁#finally wrote some jason todd 🫡#didn’t mean for it to be titans!verse it just happened #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd imagine #jason todd smut #titans dc #x reader #brf.fest #cross posted on ao3

561 notes · View notes

phxntomsdusk · 10 months ago

Note

Can request smth with the chuckle sandwich boys? I think you’ve done one for them before but idk. Maybe with a reader who looks very sweet, soft and then Schlatt makes some joke and reader starts playing along and scaring the shit out of EVERYONE

Unusual - Jschlatt x GN!Reader

summary: the ask !! - i’m not that proud of this but.. it’s something

warnings: joke abt killing someone - going into description about it

tags: @ax-y10 , @joviepog , @pheliiaa , @idontreallyexistyet , @rqvii , @vibestillaxxx , @haunted-headset (ask to be added!)

word count: 263

Ever since you met Jay everyone thought you were polar opposites. You were meant to be the sweet ball of sunshine, and he was the gloomy asshole who was mean 24/7.

However during their newest episode of Chuckle Sandwich, they brought you along! It was one of their usual guest episodes, mostly asking you questions about your channel and personal experiences.

“I heard you killed someone.” Jay interrupted your conversation with Ted, a smile threatening to show on his lips as he raised his brows at you. “Is it true?”

Of course, it wasn’t. And most people knew you didn’t joke about this kind of stuff online.

“Well.. who told you? Was it Rachel? I told her that if she ever told a soul I’d come for her.” You spoke back in a sarcastic tone, watching as his face dropped in somewhat surprise. Ted couldn’t help but laugh, covering his mouth as he looked between you two.

“How’d you do it?” Jay leaned forward, closer to you as he lowered his voice. “Well.. I lured him into a shed. Stabbed him right in the jugular, and then fed him to my neighbor’s pigs. That’s the great thing with living near a farm.” You smiled innocently, before turning back to Ted in an attempt to pick up your previous conversation.

The way you completely dismissed your words was a bit confusing to Jay, leaving him to wonder if you genuinely killed someone. “You’re only joking.. right?”

You turned back to look at him, simply shrugging before smiling at the camera. “Rachel should know.”

#phxntomsdusk #phxntoms fics #jschlatt #schlatt #jschlatt x reader #jschlatt x y/n #jschlatt x you #schlatt x reader #schlatt x y/n #schlatt x you #jschlatt fluff #schlatt fluff

352 notes · View notes

o0o0thorn0o0o · 5 months ago

Text

Late, I know, but…! Only by two days, so I’ll still label/tag it:

Ichihime Week, Day 7: Mythical Lovers / Rainbow

I was planning on adding in magpies in the background this time, but I was getting lazy, and it’s already late, so maybe next time ^^;

(Also I was thinking of making a rainbow version, but it didn't come out as I would have liked? Idk. I still think it’s cute, though, so I put it under the cut)

Alrighty, listen: I really didn’t mean to wait this long to post. But, like, very shortly after Eid, my iPad’s storage filled up, like, to the point I couldn’t even access my mail (that’s how I found out, pfft). I was wondering why I’d ever need 256 GB 4 years ago… but still, it was $100 extra bucks. Sure, it was a grad gift, but 128 GB was expensive enough—still a lot of storage, too… Not enough, clearly!

Hoarding layers (and recoloring my own art, pfft) has really caught up to me… but also, it wouldn’t help too much if I didn’t either. After deleting what I could bear to part with, that took away around 5 GB, but merging layers in other works barely made a dent.

So I’ve spent these past few weeks wondering what to do, thinking about emailing my 2019 (imported from my 5s) and 2020 works to an email I also created 4 years ago for some reason I totally forgot about and never used so that I don’t end up taking any space in my actual one and then uploading them onto two (since I really don’t want my files corrupting) USBs via my laptop, trying to get those USBs from Target (but since I was adamant this time in getting 256 GB USBs—I don’t want to have to worry about storage for a longgggg time—there were none in stock), ordering them off of eBay instead since my dad insisted on their cheapness, waiting a week for them, then transferring them to that email and uploading them onto its Google drive if the files was too big…

But that was taking much too long and still left space on my iPad while I was doing it. I managed to complete the 2019 and 2020 pieces from my iPad, but it also only ended up being around 1 GB… So, like, I need to clear more years (breaks my heart, it does ;~; Sure, I still have access to them via that email and those USBs, but it’s not convenient anymore, and there are still pieces I plan on getting back to… ackkkkk).

Contemplating it some more and discussing it with a friend, much as I abhor subscription services, I finally decided to purchase a premium membership on Ibis for that 20 GB of cloud storage. I can afford the 30 bucks a year, and I like the app anyway—serves me good—and not having to watch an ad every 18 hours to access my go-to brushes would be nice, plus having access to the other stuff, but yeah: ✋🌈✨cloud storage✨🌈 🤚

Anyway, I’m pretty sure a good chunk of what’s taking up my space is actually the cache, as I’m already more than halfway through my drawings, and I’m not sure if I’ll reach that 75 GB of storage Ibis was apparently taking up with just my drawings. So I’ll probably need to download everything, then delete the app and redownload it ‘cause stupid IOS doesn’t let you easily clear it 🫠

Anyway, I really thought I’d be done by now, but am not—that said, I managed to clear out around 10 GB off of Ibis (not my iPad; I somehow managed to gain back 5?? Somewhere?? I’ve no clue; I don’t see it), which is wayyy more than enough to get one drawing done for IH week, so I paused the whole storage thing for now. I actually tried to get day one’s drawing done on the 6th, but I’m dealing with perspective that’s hurting my brain, so I decided to get day seven’s done instead, ‘cause I thought I’d be on time…

Me? On time? Man, who knew I was so funny… 😒

But yeah, day seven is done! I’ll definitely revisit that day one drawing in the future, but not anytime soon. As if I wasn’t backed up already, this whole storage mess has backlogged even further, and there are other dates coming up 😮‍💨 And, y’know, gotta finish the storage transfer, too… Ahhhhhhhhhh!

Anyway, on a more positive note, gradient maps are actually very neat to use—had a little too much fun, eheh. I won’t confess how much time I spent testing it out on this piece, but here be my favorite:

They’re so golden <3 ☺️

#bleach #inoue orihime #kurosaki ichigo #ichihime #ihweek2024 #ichihime week #fanart #digital art #the cons of digital art man…#and well me being a hoarder too but shhhh 🤫

94 notes · View notes

skriblee-ksk · 6 months ago

Text

“I checked the drinks… Princes’ outfits are up to code… Grimmy’s with Ryoko right now… I didn’t forget anything, did I?”

“Okay. Ready as I’ll ever be…! Let’s make this ball a success!”

Set to Home Screen: Are you ready? I’ll wait for you, if you need me to.

Home Transition:

1: Woah… The chandeliers are so bright and sparkly… 12 arms from the bottom bowl, which are four more than the one in the Mirror Chamber, but the top… Ah, sorry!

2: Deuce called me Lady Kiyuu earlier, which really made me happy. I would have worn a pretty dress, but these clothes are a lot warmer and comfier. I think I managed to make myself look feminine either way!

3: Kalim’s really enjoying talking to the attendees. He seems to be getting friendly with everyone, including people from RSA! Must be because he’s familiar with hosting parties.

4: So many attractive people are here… I wonder if I’d be bothering them if I said I wanted to take a picture of them…?

Home, after Login: This ball is really fun! If I lean back on this wall and squint, it just looks like a blur of blue, white, and gold. I think it’s nice that there’s a time these schools can merge like this.

Tap Home:

1: I’m excited to vote for the Belle of the Ball! Huh? Oh, no, I never had any intent to participate. I just enjoy seeing pretty people.

2: Ah, what? Oh, I’m just reviewing my notepad to make sure I’m not forgetting any etiquette. I’m doing perfectly well, so far! I reviewed it before I entered too, but just in case, you know?

3: Oh, no, wait, Grim’s gonna devour the entire table of finger foods at this rate. I’ll be right back!

4: I know I’m supposed to be helping the princes out, but I’m not sure if I’m doing a proper job here… Hm? You think I’m doing pretty well? Mm… Hehe, thanks!

5: It’s a little bit harder than usual to catch the attention of the attendees here since there’s so many people… Well, I guess I just have to find better ways to make my presence known!

Glimmering Soirée is a twst fan event hosted by: @starry-night-rose!!

Groovy Lines: Unlocked

Notes and stuff under cut!!

Groovy art coming soon!! maybe. hopefully. i have the sketch done so hopefully i can finish lol. I slightly tried imitating the twst shading style, but idk.

I searched up men’s victorian era clothing and ended w making this design. few obvious design changes in the end (color) result, mostly the gloves.

Here’s the pic without the SR thing! And the sneak peak for the groovy (which i rlly tryharded on so maybe i should’ve listed it as an ssr but whatevs i’ll leave that to my friend + ryoko because ryoko deserves that ssr title)

And tag list for my friend who rlly wanted to be tagged in Kiyuu stuff (if you wanted be added, just tell me!!): @kathxrat-01

#skribleedoodlz #twst stuff #twst kiyuu #glimmering soirée #I had a lot of fun drawing her!!!!#rendering the buttons and the silver stuff were so hard tho..#metal……#EITHER WAY SUPER FUN #cant wait to finish the groovy!!!#WILL include ryoko btw because i adore ryoko #and they come in a set they are THE ramshackle duo #would love to add grim in the bg too.#possibly tho i’d have to add to the sketch #twisted wonderland #twst #twst oc #twst yuu #skribleeoc #twst fan event

74 notes · View notes

bwabys-scenarios · 7 months ago

Text

Along the way

Pt. 1

Fantasy!HXH AU

!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!

A/N: wanted to have some fun with a fantasy version of Hunter x Hunter involving the main four and the reader :3 this is purely for fun and idk how often I’ll update it, depends on my mood. Also this will have some inspiration from Yona of the Dawn and Frieren!

If you’d like to be ADDED to the taglist, please comment saying you want to be added, make sure you’re able to be tagged/mentioned, and have your age in your bio(IF YOU ARE ALREADY ON THE TAGLIST, YOU DON’T NEED TO ASK TO BE ADDED AGAIN!!)

(Name) couldn’t remember the last time she had ever been hungry. Every day she woke up to breakfast in bed, and was quickly guided to the dining hall for lunch. Dinner was never late, considering she ate with her father, the King.

But right now, her stomach growled painfully as she was led by the hand by the only person that she had left from her life as a princess.

“Kurapika… I’m hungry.”

The blonde’s elf ears twitched, telling her that he definitely heard her. His grip tightening on her hand was enough for her to understand that he was upset he couldn’t do anything about it. “I know, princess.”

“I’m tired, too.”

He sighed softly, but didn’t slow down. “I’m well aware. We have to keep going, you’ll get a break when the sun rises. By then we should be far enough from the castle to avoid detection.”

She huffed, her eyelids dropping slightly as they continued to walk. “I just hope Papa will meet us soon… he’s always taking his time.”

Kurapika stayed silent at that, simply continuing to guide her through the dense forest. Instead of replying to her, his thumb rubbed the back of her hand gently, as if he was attempting some form of comfort.

He hadn’t been lying, the elf did not let her rest until the sun came out. Even then, she was upset to know they would be sleeping in a dark and smelly cave. “The scent will help mask ours, princess,” Kurapika said after she pouted at him.

“I’d rather be eaten by demons than smell like moldy cheese,” she mumbled as he prepared a spot for her to sleep on.

“Don’t pout, it’s unbecoming of a princess. You should rest while you can, we’ll be leaving at nightfall.”

He sat in the corner, a hand on his sword as she settled down on the makeshift bed of his tabard and moss. Kurapika covered her in his cloak once she was settled, his brown eyes soft with concern.

“You’re not going to sleep?”

(Name) looked up at him, her eyes half lidded as she fought her sleep. He managed a small smile, reaching out to gently pet her head. “Elves don’t need as much sleep as humans do. I’ll be fine, just go to bed.”

She didn’t argue, simply laying her head back down and drifting off to sleep. As she did, Kurapika’s smile faded, and a look of absolute fury crossed his face at the sight of his exhausted princess.

Just a few hours ago, she had been getting ready for bed, and he had been guarding her room. Everything was peaceful, as it always was.

“Kurapika, can you come sit with me until I fall asleep?” she asked, peeking her head out of the door. He smiled, sheathing his sword before slipping through the crack in her door.

“Yes, of course princess. You always have trouble sleeping on your own…” Kurapika said, sitting in a chair next to her bed after tucking her in. “Do you require anything else?”

She looked away shyly, offering her hand. “Can you hold my hand too?”

Without a word he took her hand in his, gently caressing the back of it with his thumb. (Name) smiled, her eyelids drooping. “Thank you…”

With that, she was fast asleep. Times like this almost made Kurapika forget about his troubled past. Getting to see his princess live a good and happy life was all he could want.

He had achieved his goals in avenging his clan, she was all he had now. And that’s why what happened just an hour later angered him so.

His kind, sensitive princess was woken with a start as the sounds of explosives shook the castle. Kurapika was quick to comfort her, holding the princess in his arms and lifting her up.

“W-what was that?”

Another explosion rocked the building, causing him to tighten his grip on her. “I’m not sure, but we need to go.”

He held onto her with one arm as he left her room, drawing his sword with the other. The feeling of her trembling hands gripping his shirt grounded the elf, and his ears twitched. There was the faint sound of someone screaming, and thundering footsteps.

“Shit…”

Kurapika never swore in front of (Name), trying his best to stay levelheaded in her presence, but the aura he was picking up was making him boil with rage.

“Demons.” he spat out, darting down a corridor and hiding in an empty room. He covered her mouth as the sound of skittering and footsteps echoed down the halls. The smell of sulfur and fire wafted through the crack in the door, making his sensitive princess gag.

“I’m not sure what’s going on, but demons are supposed to be forbidden from entering the palace walls. And for this many to be here…”

Before she could even register it, Kurapika was carrying her out of the room and sprinting down the halls. She was still only half awake, glancing around to try and get her bearings.

That was a mistake.

As they passed by the throne room, (Name) watched as her father was cornered by a pack of demons. They were tall and intimidating, wearing black cloaks to hide their appearances.

“Where is the girl? The one you have passed your knowledge to?”

Kurapika flattened against the wall, shielding her with his body. He felt like if he moved in that moment, the monsters inside would sense their presence.

“I didn’t… pass it on yet. She hasn’t yet reached her 20th birthday..!”

‘He’s talking about the princess!’ Kurapika thought, his grip tightening on her. He held her close to him, urging her with his scarlet eyes to keep quiet as a mouse.

“Could be all lies. Tell the lower rank soldiers to search for her. She’ll most likely be alone or guarded by a human knight, which is no match for even the lowest ranked demon.”

The sound of flesh being sliced made Kurapika wince, and he covered (Name)’s ears just in time. Kurapika used the noises of her father’s final cries to hurry her out of the castle and into the surrounding woods.

“W-what about papa?” she asked, frantically looking around. “H-he was in the thrown room, w-“

Kurapika covered her mouth and raised his hand, castings a quick spell to hide their presence before a pack of demons came bounding down the forest path. He did his best to comfort her, shielding her eyes so she couldn’t see that the awful things sniffing around for them.

The lower ranked soldiers were barely sentient, more like mindless hellhounds than actually people. Their gray, decaying flesh rotted off of their bodies as they sniffed the ground. Thankfully, the spell Kurapika cast hid both their appearance and scent.

One of the beasts stopped near the two, its ears pricked up as it listened closely. Kurapika held his breath, ready to draw his weapon at any moment…

But a bush a few yards away shook, causing the beats to start growling and barking, immediately running off to see what was there. Kurapika used this chance to get pick up (Name) and run.

That’s how they ended up in the cave. The smell of the musty air would mask their scents long enough for them both to get some rest.

Kurapika watched the sleeping princess, sighing softly as he caressed her cheek. She was such a sweet, innocent girl. She didn’t deserve to be hunted down like a dog.

Despite Kurapika’s hatred for humankind for their slaughter of his kin, he held (Name) in high regards. The only reason he drew breath was because of her kindness, so he had dedicated the rest of his long life to protecting that kindness.

So the fact someone had taken her throne when she was so close to becoming queen angered him beyond belief. Kurapika had seen the way she cared for her subjects, and the demons taking over would only mean the suffering of all the humans living in her kingdom. It would break her heart, being helpless to do anything.

But Kurapika would let endless men and women die if it meant keeping her safe. He already had plans to take her somewhere remote where she could live out her life in peace and safety.

Though, it seemed she had a different idea.

When (Name) woke up, she ate the pheasant he hunted while looking at the cave wall in though. “Those demons… they took over the palace.”

Kurapika nodded, washing her nightgown as she sat, covered by his cloak. “Yes, princess. It is much too dangerous for us to try and go b-“

“Just the two of us? Yes, it would be too dangerous. But…”

She picked up a stick and started drawing in the dirt. “You said the nearest town is only a few miles away by foot, right? Well, maybe we can find a guild and hire a party to slay the demons!”

“With what money, princess? And the demons will be searching for you in every town near the castle. It will be dangerous to-“

“That’s why I’m gonna wear a disguise!”

She stood, walking over to some moss. “I’ll make a beard and-“

“My princess…” Kurapika interrupted. “I could just use a spell to change your appearance.”

“Oh.”

She blushed, sitting back down. “We’ll do that then.”

“…”

Kurapika didn’t exactly love the idea, so he spoke up again. “But we still don’t have the money for such a thing. Hiring a party is already costs a hefty sum, and the type of people we’ll need to drive out demons, especially the kind that have invaded the palace would be hard to find, let alone pay.”

He sighed, rubbing his temple. Kurapika loved her dearly, but his princess was extremely sheltered. She didn’t understand the concept of how much things cost. “Listen my princess, I can take you somewhere safe, where you can live a comfortable life. It might not be the luxurious life you’re used to, but you’ll still be happy.”

“B-but…”

Kurapika looked back to her, freezing when he saw tears trailing down her cheeks. “I don’t… want my people to suffer when I could be doing something… why do I get to be safe and happy while they’re under the reign of demons?”

She did have a point, and her kindness is what made Kurapika adore her in the first place. His elf ears twitched and he rubbed the back of his neck.

To be honest, Kurapika cared not for other humans… but he would to next to anything to make her happy.

“… alright.”

(Name) blinked, looking to him. “Really?”

“Yes… but promise me, if we can’t find a party that will take on our request within a month, you will give up on this.”

She squealed in delight, jumping into his arms. “I promise! Ahh, thank you Kurapika!”

The slightest shade of pink took over his cheeks, and he cleared his throat. “Princess, you still only have my cloak to keep you covered.”

She blinked, looking down at herself before jumping back and checking herself over to make sure she was still completely covered. “A-ah, sorry I forgot…”

‘She’s going to be the death of me…’ Kurapika thought, ringing out her night gown before setting it out to dry.

As he planned out what they would do, he could have sworn he heard something skittering from tree to tree outside… but when he looked, there was nothing…

But a pair of cat-like eyes were staring in at them, wondering when he should strike.

————————

Kurapika held her close to him as they walked towards town. Just an hour before, an entire pack of demon hounds passed by their hiding place.

Thankfully, he had placed a magical sensor about 100 feet away that alerted him just in time for him to pull (Name) into the depths of the cave. He covered her mouth, the potent smell of the cave hiding their scent.

The beasts passed by without any trouble, but Kurapika knew it was time to go. More competent soldiers would be there soon to check every nook and cranny of the forest for any signs of life, and Kurapika couldn’t hide her forever.

So they walked down the path, her hand in his. She was still tired, now wearing her freshly cleaned nightgown and his cloak. Her feet were still bare, so he would carry her until his arms ached. Kurapika couldn’t stand the way she winced when she stepped on a pointy rock or on poky leaves.

He wished he could do more, he more useful to her…

‘I’ll buy her a more suitable outfit once we get into town.’ he thought, patting his coin pouch with his free hand. ‘I doubt we’ll be able to find someone willing to take on the demons anyways, no need to save my coin when my princess is in need of new clothing.’

It wouldn’t be the soft silks and fancy patterns she was used to, but it would keep her warm and covered.

“My princess, we’re nearing town.”

She stopped, glancing back at him. Kurapika tied his cloak tighter around her, making sure her stained nightgown couldn’t be seen. “Try not to let your bare feet be noticed. Take small steps, and don’t take off your hood.”

“Anything else?” she asked sarcastically. Kurapika thought for a second, then looped her arm with his.

“Yes. Don’t leave my side, even for a second. I can’t guarantee that the town is safe. There could already be demons hiding amongst the citizens, wearing human disguises.”

She huffed, but listened. For the past 5 years, Kurapika had been her loyal knight, keeping her safe from all harm. (Name) trusted him more than she trusted herself, so of course she would do whatever he said.

“Come, we can only stay in town for so long. We don’t want to draw any attention to ourselves.”

He guided her into the small town, which looked more like a village the more Kurapika thought of it.

There were only a handful of shops that he could see, he wasn’t sure he’d even be able to find her clothes, much less a party that would be willing to take on demons.

He grimaced when a toddler ran by, wearing only wearing a cloth diaper as they were chased by what seemed to be an older sibling. Kurapika disliked humans, finding them to be filthy, nasty things.

“Aww… so cute!”

Kurapika glanced to see (Name) helping the little one up after they tripped, gently dabbing away at a little scrape in their knee with her handkerchief. “Shh, it’s okay. It’s only a little scrape.”

The older sibling blushed as (Name) smiled and helped their younger sibling stand. “Be careful, you’re a big brother, aren’t you? You need to keep better watch of your baby sister. And you…”

She gave the child a headpat. “You need to listen to your big brother. Don’t run away from him, what if a big scary monster snatched you up?”

The two thanked her before walking away hand in hand, waving. She waved back, and Kurapika was quick to grab her hand and pull her towards a quiet place. “Princess, didn’t I say we shouldn’t draw attention to ourselves!? You-“

She pouted at him. “Kurapika, it was just a child. I-“

“Well now those children have seen your face. It not only puts you in danger, but them as well.”

(Name) paused, her eyebrows furrowing as she looked down at the ground. Kurapika sighed, cursing himself for upsetting her.

“Just… try not to talk to anyone or show your face, alright? Come on, we have to hurry.”

She was now quiet as they walked through the small village, her hand in his. Though Kurapika knew her silence was better in the long run, he also felt an ache in his heart when she was quiet.

——————

(Name) sat in a small wooden chair inside a dusty clothing shop. Kurapika was speaking to the owner quietly, occasionally glancing back at her.

While they talked, (Name) took the time to look out the window and really take in the village while it was busy.

The unevenly paved road caused the rickety old carriages drawn by horses to wobble a bit, but the riders seemed used to it. Children ran down the road, spooking the horses a bit and getting yelled at by said riders until they scurried away.

Across from them was a bakery, where she could see a woman rolling out a ball of dough. On the counter were various baked good that reminded (Name) of just how hungry she was.

But… something seemed out of place. Every once in a while as she watched the villagers go about their daily lives, she swore she could see a blur of someone in the trees that surrounded the village. Occasionally, a pair of blue, glowing eyes peered through the leafy canopy, staring right at her.

“U-Um… Kurapika?”

He held up a hand and continued to speak with the shopkeep. ‘Is he… haggling him?’ (Name) sighed softly, turning back to the window.

The thing she saw made her blood ran cold.

On the edge of the tree line was a small figure, looking right at her. She couldn’t make out much besides a head of white hair and piercing blue eyes. (Name) got ready to tell Kurapika, but by the time she blinked… it was gone.

Kurapika approached her, a few items of clothing slung over his shoulder. “What did you need, my p- I mean, miss?”

She didn’t answer for a moment, continuing to stare out of the window. When she did finally speak, he could tell something was wrong. “… nothing. Just thought I saw something.”

The elf was intelligent, he knew that anything out of the ordinary could mean their enemies may be near. So he nodded and escorted her to the dressing room. “Get dressed, we’re leaving now.”

She did as told, glancing through the crack in the door as he kept watch. When she was around, Kurapika kept up a calm and confident facade… but when he thought she couldn’t see him, his face fell slightly with worry.

The princess didn’t truly know what demons were or the history they had with humans or elves, not many humans did. The stories had simply been lost to time, something only an elf who had lived many human lifetimes could remember.

Kurapika was terrified, knowing that these demons would stop at nothing to kill the last person that may know how to truly defeat them.

Demons were incredibly hard to kill, it was easier to just wound them and banish them with a teleportation spell back to hell… but there was one method that could permanently end a demon’s life.

But no, the princess wasn’t aware of how to do that. Why would she be, she was sheltered and had never even held a wand, much less casted a spell.

Instead, the king had passed on this information to Kurapika, not wanting his beloved daughter to be in danger. Kurapika didn’t want her at risk either, so he took on the heavy burden.

The spell called for various magical items to be gathered from across the continent and brought together. It would take ages, and with just the two of them, it wasn’t just dangerous, it was impossible.

Even more troubling, to preform the spell that would banish demons, the caster would have to be a person whose heart was pure and without hate. Kurapika held onto so much hatred and anger, he would never be able to perform such a thing.

‘But…’

Kurapika glanced at the princess as she stepped out of the dressing room, her smile as warm as the afternoon sun. She reached for his hand, giving it a soft squeeze. “It’ll be okay, we’ll get through this together.”

‘Maybe she, the only human I have ever cared for could do it.’

———————

From the branches of a tree, a figure watched as the two walked through the forest. One was some kind of an elf, which the spying figure had been told went extinct years ago.

The other was a young woman, her face hidden by an olive green cloak. She held onto the elf’s hand, and the figure could tell that if she wasn’t with him, the elf would be moving at a much faster pace.

‘Huh, just a single guard? You’d think that at least twenty knights would have escorted her out of the palace.’

The figure jumped silently to another tree once the two started to gain a bit too much distance from him for his liking.

‘She’s rather slow and weak, I can take her out easily. But the elf has been able to successfully evade our soldiers for nearly two days and nights now… oh well, I only need to kill the girl. No need to fight someone I’m not sure I could beat.’

The figure’s tail curled around the branch of the tree, keeping him upright as he leaned forward to get a better look at them.

But unfortunately, he misjudged the strength of the branch and was sent tumbling out of the tree, landing in a bush nearby.

‘SHIT!’

Kurapika pulled his sword out, stepping in front of (Name). “Who goes there? Come out and state your reasons for following us.”

‘Ah, so he knew I was following them.’

The white haired boy quickly hid his tail, retracted his claws, and ruffled his hair to hide his small horns. Once done, he carefully stepped out of the bushes, making sure to make himself look small and scared.

“Oh, it’s just a little boy.”

The boy waved timidly, trying to act like a lost child. “H-hello…”

(Name) peeked out from behind Kurapika, smiling. “Hello there, I-“

Kurapika stepped forward, his sword pointed at the boy’s throat. “I said state your reason for following us.”

(Name)’s eyes widen, and she reached out to gently move Kurapika’s arm so he was pointing his sword at the ground instead. “Kurapika, he’s just a little boy, there’s no need-“

“Just a little boy? My princess, if he was a normal little boy I would be able to hear his footsteps when he walked. This is no ordinary child, he’s trained in the ways of darkness and evil.”

The boy scoffed, crossing his arms. “Huh, you’re good. Wasn’t expecting that. I’ve never had someone realize they couldn’t hear my footsteps before.”

In the blink of an eye, the boy’s claws were sharpened into points, his sharp teeth glistening in the low light. Kurapika’s eyes widened, and he started getting ready to create a barrier around the princess if need be.

“You seem like a smart man. Hand over the girl, and I’ll let you free. You’re an elf, I hear that race and humans have a pretty bad history. Let me guess, you were forced into serving her or execution. Well it’s your lucky day, I’m here to take her out. Then, you’ll be a free elf and-“

The boy’s eyes narrowed as Kurapika’s sword began to glow a deep scarlet, his eyes shining the same color. “You understand nothing, demon. My people hated your kind much more than we hated humans, and this girl means everything to me. I would die before I handed her over to the likes of you.”

‘That sword… I heard stories of elves that could banish demons but…’

“K-Kurapika, wait!”

But it was no use, the two had begun their battle. (Name) was pushed back unceremoniously, falling onto her but a few feet away from the two.

The boy brandished his claws, leaping from the ground and slashing at Kurapika’s throat. He was able to block the attack with his sword just before the boy’s nails sunk into his skin.

Kurapika took advantage of the boy being so close, and used a teleporting spell, sending them 30 yards away. “Hide yourself, (Name)! This boy is an assassin, he’ll take any opportunity to come your way and kill you!”

She gulped, crawling through the gaps of large tree roots and hiding herself under a tree. (Name) couldn’t see what was going on now, but she could hear the sounds of Kurapika swinging his blade and grunting.

It took her back to the days when she would watch him train between lessons. He always took time to send her a soft smile, even walking her to her next destination despite being exhausted and sweaty.

One day, another knight was sparring with him, and when Kurapika got hurt, she started to cry. She rushed over, clingy to him and sobbing as she rubbed her face against his chest.

“Y-you got hurt! You’re bleeding, someone call the-“

Kurapika gently ran his hand over her hair, smiling. “Shh, princess, I’m fine. This is nothing.”

“But…”

His eyes softened as he gently caressed her cheek with his thumb. “Any injury I get while protecting you is just proof of my unconditional devotion. You are my everything, princess. I will shield you with my very body if it means keeping you safe.”

And as she heard the fight get more and more intense, she felt an uneasy feeling settle in her belly.

‘I don’t want Kurapika to die.’

That’s the very thought she had that day, watching as he was bandaged up by a palace doctor. So behind his back, she had begun to learn basic magic, wanting to be somewhat to him in the future.

Although she had never been able to actually cast a spell due to how she was watched like a hawk, she still managed to sneak some of Kurapika’s books into her room to study while he was busy.

When she heard Kurapika gasp in pain, (Name)’s mind raced with what to do. He told her to hide, and Kurapika was usually right, but she would rather die than let him die for her.

So (Name) crawled out of her hiding space, sniffling softly as she began to run towards the two.

The boy had him pinned to the ground, his nails at Kurapika’s throat. The sight was enough to freeze her in her tracks, her heart thumping wildly against her chest.

“L-let him go!”

Despite her legs shaking, and her lip wobbling, she was still able to yell out to the boy. “It’s me you want, don’t hurt him!”

Kurapika turned his head, his nose bleeding. “Princess, what do you think you’re doing, he’s going to-“

The boy let Kurapika go, walking towards her slowly. “Sacrificing yourself to save a measly knight? You’re braver than I thought, princess. I’ll spare the elf, as long as you go down without a fight.”

“Yes… but please, before you kill me, let me know your name.”

Seeing no point in hiding his identity now that his prey was right in front of him, the boy relented. “If that’s your final wish… my name is Killua. Killua of the Zoldyck Royal Family, one of the seven princes of hell.”

“I see… Killua, then. I need you to get down.”

This made the boy pause. Although her body shook and her lip wobbled, her eyes were far from scared. They were determined, steady as they focused on him.

Before he could retreat, a ring formed around the boys wrists, causing him to be pinned to the ground. He yelped, struggling frantically against the glowing rings, but they stayed firm on his wrists.

“W-what the hell did you just do to me!?”

(Name) smiled, her knees giving way as she fell to the ground. She held held up her own wrist, a small ring of light was there, the same as the boy’s.

“I cast a spell to have complete control over your actions. It only works on… demons… and… if I have your name…”

Killua growled, baring his teeth and struggling against his bounds with no luck. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t even lift his head. “You witch! Let me go right now, before I-“

(Name) laughs, reaching out to ruffle his hair. “Before you what? Squirm some more? Kick up some dirt? Face it kid, you’re not doing anything until I give you an order.”

He continued to growl and snap his teeth at her, trying to attack, to do anything. As Killua struggled, Kurapika made his way back over, holding his injured arm.

‘That spell… it’s too high level, even for me. How was she able to-‘

He barely caught (Name) in time as she fell forward. Her mana was next to non existent at the moment, leaving her exhausted and barely conscious.

“My princess…”

He cursed himself for not being able to stop her from using such a spell. If he had been a bit stronger, the boy would be dead, and he would be carrying her to bed at this very moment.

But now, he had to deal with the demon growling and snarling at their feet.

“I hope you’ve prepared yourself for death, demon. I can’t have you going back to your horde and informing them of our location.”

Killua let out a laugh, looking up at him. “As if either of you could kill me. Sure, try it out. Injure me, teleport me away to the far ends of the earth, I’ll just keep coming back, and with reinforcements next time.”

“He has a point…”

Kurapika helped (Name) sit up, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood as her head leaned on his chest. She was so weak, she was shaking.

“Princess, you should rest.”

She shook her head, raising her hand. “Stand, Killua.”

The boy immediately sprung up from the ground, standing stiffly in front of them. “(Name)… is the spell still intact?”

She nodded, leaving Kurapika in awe. A spell like that cast by an amateur like her should have fell apart within seconds!

“So we can’t just let him go and I don’t want to kill him…”

“We couldn’t kill him even if we tried, princess.”

She pouted slightly, staring at the boy whose cheek were red with humiliation. He was at the beck and call of a human, he’d be teased by his brothers for weeks!

“… I think I have a solution! Killua, stay still.”

The boy scolded himself for being so cocky. ‘I knew names held power, and yet I freely gave her mine…’

He clenched his fists, growling lowly. ‘As soon as I’m free, I’ll kill that princess, if it’s the last thing I do!’

Killua stiffened up even more if possible as Kurapika and (Name) stepped a few feet away to talk.

The elf grimaced as (Name) seemed to be proposing an idea, disagreeing with her immediately. She then put her hands on her hips… which caused Kurapika to relent.

“Alright, I’ll let you handle this then, princess.”

(Name) smiled, stepping forward. “Alright! Killua, once this order is given, you’ll be able to move freely.”

Killua perked up a little. ‘This is my chance!’

“I’ll be giving you the orders,” she said, holding up two fingers. Kurapika glanced her way, nervous. He didn’t like allowing his princess to handle things in the slightest… but it was their only option. “One, you will not share any information on me, Kurapika, or anyone connected to us.”

He frowned deeply, that would get in the way of his plans… but…

‘Once she’s dead, the spell should dissipate. I’ll just-‘

“The second order is you are no longer allowed to harm, kill, or maim any innocent beings, or any of my loved ones.”

Killua’s jaw dropped. While he didn’t necessarily make a habit out of killing when he didn’t have to, it was still his job. “You can’t be serious, I-“

That’s when he realized… (Name) was but an innocent human… he wouldn’t be kill her. And Kurapika was definitely someone she cared for…

“Those are your orders. You can now move freely.”

Killua’s body relaxed, and he moved forward, launching himself at (Name). Although Kurapika was quick to pull her behind himself, it wasn’t necessary.

Killua froze midair, ancient symbols appearing all over his body. When he dropped to the ground, he seized.

(Name) was quick to kneel down next to him, despite Kurapika’s complaints. “Hey, you’re going to be okay. The effects shouldn’t last that long…”

She lifted his head into her lap, wiping away the drool from the boy’s mouth with her sleeve. “This is what happens when you disobey an order… I’m sorry, from what I read I heard it’s incredibly painful.”

Incredibly painful? It was the worst thing Killua had ever experienced, and he had undergone the harsh training and torture of the Zoldyck family.

But the demon was confused… why was this princess gently wiping his face with a handkerchief, and why was she getting her knight to prop him up against a tree. He couldn’t comprehend why she left a canteen full of water and an apple for him before she left… it didn’t make sense.

“You’re free to do whatever you want, as long as you follow those two orders,” she said, yawning as Kurapika helped her walk. “Goodbye, Killua.”

As they walked away, Killua felt… strange. He had tried to kill her more than once. It would be easy enough to make him take his own life… yet she was letting him go.

Killua sat there under the moonlight, thinking of what his next step should be. He couldn’t return home, that would be a humiliation he would never live down. Him, the heir of the throne, defeated by a mere mortal? That was unheard of.

So Killua hatched a new plan, one that would take advantage of the princess’ kindness…

———————

Dark fog fell over the palace, toxic vapor that would kill any human unfortunate enough to still be hiding within its walls.

“Has Killua returned with the princess yet?”

Illumi looked up from his work, tilting his head. His tail swayed silently as he set those dark, cold eyes on his mother. “No, mother. And from what I’m able to sense… he’s not coming back home for a while yet.”

She frowned, Kalluto standing quietly at her side. “Kalluto, go check with your older brother and see if he’s finished that resurrection spell yet.”

“Yes, mother.”

Once Kalluto left, the woman’s eyes narrowed. “We must hurry and get these matters dealt with before the other demon lords are able to make it to the surface. Those other princes… they’ll spell nothing but trouble for our-“

“Yes, mother. I understand.”

Illumi looked into his crystal ball, one that one worked on Killua. With it, he could see through the boy’s eyes… and even give him orders.

“Killua is currently following the princess, mother.”

She smiled, clapping her hands together. “Oh, that is wonderful news! Give him the command, and then I’ll have my little prince back!”

Illumi nodded, the focused on the crystal ball, peering into it.

‘Killua.’

Usually, simply saying his name was enough to have the boy tensing up… but he did nothing. Could he not… hear him?

Illumi shook his head. ‘No matter, I’ll just take control of him.’

When Illumi attempted to reach into the crystal ball, his hand was repelled by white magic, burning his fingers and palm.

“Illumi!”

His mother rushed over to see what had happened. Illumi stared blankly at his hand, sighing.

“It seems someone is interfering with my connection… until we figure out what this is…”

His mother paled, raising a hand to her mouth.

“Killua… is lost to us.”

Illumi looked through the crystal ball, his frown deepening. ‘At least I can still see through his eyes. That will be of some benefit to us… as long as Killua keeps following them, we should be able to find them eventually.’

Kalluto walked back into the room, Boeing politely. “Mother, big brother has found a resurrection spell that will work on more than ten people at once without killing the caster. Now all we have to do is find their remains.”

His mother grinned, fanning herself. “Inform your father of this discovery, and make sure he knows…”

She looked outside, smiling as the fog slowly spread down the mountain. “We have some spiders to find.”

130 notes · View notes

procrastinatingsoicanreadfanfics · 1 year ago

Text

How would Vikings react to Ivar being remembered?

summary: it's in the title :)

notes: no warnings except for maybe mentions of death

tagged: @majesticwren @obsessiveformiyatwins @levithestripper @cookielovesbook-akie @leithdragon @demon-of-the-ancient-world @alicedopey, @ivarlover @batmandallyboy @akayxo09 @vrtualfairy @esme-viridian (hmu to be added/removed!)

masterlist | based on this request

Ragnar

Pretends he always knew (eugh he’s such a bitch ong)

Nooo I would never set my son out in the wild… meeee? No wayyy…

He takes credit for it for his ‘great parenting’ and ‘legend genetics’

If Ivar had any legend genetics, they came from aslaug

Aslaug

Proudest mom out there, acts like a soccer/pta mom when she hears

Aslaug actually always knew

She quotes her prophetic dreams from like, 853 AD?

“I knew since I was five years old.” (truth)

Lagertha

Okay? Who cares? What about Bjorn?

Totally not pissed that he may be more famous than she is (lie)

Defo sulks about it to torvi and then kills someone important to expand her own legacy

She’s in the fame biz

Bjorn

Bro throws a toddler tantrum

He will literally stomp the ground

“That’s not fair, I discovered the Mediterranean!!” (he says that in the stupid tone he gets in the later seasons)

So so bitter about it (he deserves that)

Ubbe

Ubbe’s smoking weed in America with Floki

He does not care

“That’s just bad taste from people from the future. Me personally? I’d admire the person who found a continent. Idk, that’s just me though.”

Gets over it the fastest

Literally just thinks that it’s so dumb of modern people bc Ivar is a silly little guy with anger issues

Hvitserk

Similar reaction to Ubbe, except he doesn’t have to get over anything

Just kinda shrugs, he’s too busy worrying about his own legacy

What’s he in the history books for? His cuisine skills?

Yeah, bro’s kinda busy managing his own shit and trying to stay alive

Sigurd

Don’t tell him

For your own safety

Will kill you and then himself

Ivar

Don’t tell him either

Never lets anyone hear the end of it

So so so annoying for a silly little guy

He just loves and hates himself so much that, at the same time, he so needs to hear this and also never, ever hear this ever at all

Floki

Floki is the same as Aslaug, he KNEW

Also, he takes credit for raising ivar and being a father figure (fair enough)

He’s a teeny tiny bit sad that ivar was friends (in a weird homosexual way) with Alfred though (kind of, and this only applies if we’re talking about tv show Vikings)

Honestly, Floki would be such a good source to add to the material we have of ivar

Ecbert

So mad he didn’t have a bigger impact on ivar

Also so mad that all the kids around him have such big legacies (Alfred, ivar) but not him??

He wants to get mentioned!! Footnotes aren’t enough!! He needs to be the main character, always.

Gets sad drunk over it way too long

258 notes · View notes

heyidkyay · 1 year ago

Text

And I'm petrified of being alone, now |

Part Five

Matty Healy x reader

Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.

What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way?

Authors Note: IT'S FINALLY HERE. THEY MEET. AH IDK WHAT ELSE TO SAY. But I have just finished writing part 6! So I figured why not post 5? SO here it is, hope you enjoy? X

>Just a note! So there's no confusion, this first section of 5 coincides at the same time as the last part of 4, as in where heading into the studio it was seen from Matty's POV, this starts with Mouse's and then goes onto them actually meeting one another! Okay? ta:)

Warnings: um, moody matty, lil bit of self-consciousness, mentions of scarring

Masterlist

I was running a bit behind schedule. Which wasn't too unusual for me, what with being the single parent to a rambunctious four year old, but this time around I’d somehow managed to allow myself to be waylaid by Adi's antics.

Apparently upon entering the studio this morning, everything had just felt a little 'off'.

And after having announced that, I’d had to sit back and watch on whilst Adi had trudged out of the room in her heavy black boots, only to come back a few moments later with a stub of sage in one hand and a lighter in the other.

Honestly, I was pretty sure that I could still taste the thick plume of smoke that I’d been forced to inhale each time I breathed in, even after having quickly made my escape. But yet it clung to the back of my throat uncomfortably and I couldn't avoid the grimace that wrinkled my face as I tried to rid myself of the sooty tang which coated my tongue.

But that was just Adi, I supposed. And it was one of the many things I loved most about her, how she was so unapologetically herself- even if it meant that I was forced to cough up a lung-full of herbs every once in a while.

See, it was actually Adi’s grandmother that had gotten her into performing all of the rites and cleanses she did so often. The woman was a real spiritualist and had taken Ads in at a very young age, so Adi had practically grown up around it all. She often spoke about how her grandmother had wanted her to follow down the same path and show a deeper interest, but Adi had always been much more fascinated by music, fashion and all things that revolved around tech.

She was a proper whiz with a computer, but that didn't mean she didn't have an appreciation for her grandmother’s beliefs, nor a knack.

"Are you still coughing up a storm, you drama queen?"

Speak of the devil, and he doth appear, I thought dryly, as Adi reemerged from out of the hazy recording booth. The sage now nowhere to be seen.

I rolled my eyes at her and continued to fiddle with the wires I had wound in my hand.

"I can't fucking stand the stuff, Ads."

Adi merely smirked at me as she bypassed, practically skipping.

"I know, but it's always good to be prepared! Who knows what we'll have to deal with when the infamous diva finally arrives!"

I snorted at Adi's mocking tone and couldn't quite hide the quirk of my lip.

"Fair enough. Just leave that door wide open, will you? And grab the fan while you're at it, as well. Don't need him, and whoever's tagging along, catching on."

I watched Adi laugh in amusement as she wandered over towards the sofa, the sweet sound echoing around the open space.

"On it, Captain!"

The two of us worked quickly after that, whirling around the loft, and one another, in an attempt to get things sorted before our guest's imminent arrival.

It wasn't long before we both recognised the telltale sign of a car pulling up outside though, and upon hearing the engines rumble die out I immediately caught Adi's eye from across the room.

It was a silent challenge and with it there was a frenzied rush to see who could get to the nearest window first. Adi had promptly tossed her notes towards my desk and taken to skidding across the hardwood floors, whilst I had all but thrown myself over the back of the settee.

Adi made it there first, even in her heavy docs, and claimed the windowsill with an unnecessary amount of arrogance. She grinned primly at me as I reluctantly slowed my approach, leaving me to lean in close so that we could both try and get a good look in.

But from this angle, there was practically no use. I craned my neck as far as my torso would willingly allow me and could only just make out the tail-end of a sleek car parked up on the curb. I assumed that meant Healy had arrived.

"Can you see anything?" Came Adi's impatient voice, a hushed whisper even though we were three flights up.

"No." I grunted back, "Your fat head's in the way."

Ads scoffed at me and I didn't have to look at her to know that she was now glaring up at me. I grinned.

"My head is perfectly sized, thank you! But seeing as we’re on the topic of abnormalities, you're practically half giraf-”

Adi immediately cut her snide comment short when a loud voice suddenly trumped the usual roaring noise that went hand in hand with the large city that was London.

"Right my!" We heard.

The voice was sharp and irritated, fuelled by an obvious anger, and soon trailed off into a muffled grit.

Adi's head snapped back to the window at the very sound of it, whilst I couldn't help but question just how exactly she’d managed to contort her body in the way she had, long legs tucked up beside her as she pressed her torso against the glass to listen closer.

The voice rang out again, sharper this time, and my eyes shot down to meet Adi’s own.

In return, she gifted me a catty side eye- obviously enraptured by the sudden drama that had seemingly been handed to us- and I could do nothing but shrug at her in response, somewhat baffled.

I pulled away slowly when the voices didn't seem ready to rise again, and silently wished that I could've been a fly on the wall during a conversation like that.

Clasping Adi's wrist, I gently tugged her away. "Come on, you best get down there before things go sideways and we end up on the backend of it all."

"Me?!" Adi crowed back, her eyes wide in alarm as she let me drag her back from the windowsill. "Why not you?"

My face scrunched up at the very thought.

"Ah go on, Ads. Please! You're so good with shit like this, can charm your way out of practically anything."

She narrowed her eyes in response. "I know what you're doing."

I pursed my lips together in an attempt to keep up the innocent act, already feeling a grin cropping up. “Is it working? ‘Cause we both know you’re the sweetest talker around, Wells. Could talk your way out of police custody, you like.”

Adi clucked her tongue but moved to cross the loft. “Yeah, yeah. But we both know you’re just being a coward! What, you really aren't ready to face him yet?”

I was swift to spin around on my heel to hide the truth my expression conveyed, and ignored the question altogether as I headed back towards the booth. I also pretended not to hear the cow’s delighted cackles as she began to descend the staircase.

"Just make sure the camera's are rolling before I get back! And wish me luck!"

"Luck!" I called out loudly over my shoulder before unplugging the fan and then storing it away. She was definitely going to need it.

I busied myself with the last of my tasks afterwards, an odd feeling of anxiety welling in my chest as I went through the usual motions.

It was strange for me to linger too long on thoughts of nervousness, because I usually had too much going on in other aspects of my life. Making things a little too difficult to concentrate on the many things that could possibly go wrong.

This time around though, we weren’t dealing with the usual up and coming artist, new to the industry and overwhelmingly pleased to be invited on. No, this time we’d practically been fed to the sharks.

Because, of all the possible people, we’d just had to have landed Matty Healy.

I started to question it all again. How exactly I'd gotten myself wrapped up in a mess this big in the first place and only hoped that Adi fared alright with dealing with Healy on her own for a while.

Maybe it had been cowardly of me to send her in first but I really didn’t think I could face him just yet, seeing as it had been me that had set off the pyramid of fireworks that had seemingly burned a hole in his life.

A dull vibration pulsed in my back pocket, breaking me from my train of thought, and I found that I was very much thankful for the sudden distraction it offered.

Messages now Finnleyyy Just got back to the gallery, Teds was fine when I dropped him off! If the show goes on any later feel free to message me and I'll pick him up x

I smiled down at the message.

At least that was one less thing I had to worry about, Teddy was safe and well, already settled in at the local nursery and in all honesty, I truly didn't know where I'd be without Finn, especially on days like these.

I was quick to fire back a text full of appreciation before I slipped the phone back into my pocket.

It was just as I had finished clearing up the rest of the studio that I heard a sudden rush of voices trail up the stairwell, and stilled at the very sound.

It was Adi’s voice which carried the furthest and so I ran my teeth along my bottom lip before ultimately deciding that running and hiding was my best bet. So I shot across the loft floor and into the recording booth to stow myself away.

Adi didn’t give me the chance to worry excessively over every little detail that could go wrong as the group of visitors grew marginally closer. So to keep myself busy for a minute or two, or to rather calm my erratic heart, I chose to fiddle with the last of the cameras that had been set up.

I felt, more than heard, the moment they passed the top of the stairwell as the wooden floorboards of the studio tended to creak beneath added weight.

It was pretty much impossible to hear what was being said on the other side of the recording booth though, due to its soundproof walls, but that tiny fact didn’t stop me from practically sealing myself against the door in an attempt to decipher the perfect moment for me to intervene on the situation outside.

For days I’d been practically driving myself stir crazy over all of this, I knew that I just needed to get it over and done with, save myself the stress before I brought another headache on. Because I could do this, he was just some guy. Famous or not.

So with a final albeit shaky breath, I braced myself and opened up the door.

Thankfully, I was almost instantly met by the comforting sound of Adi's voice.

“Ah, there she is! Was wondering when you’d show your mug. Fancy a cuppa, babe? Fixing up a few.”

“Please.” I breathed out a sigh and dragged a hand through my hair as I wandered towards the kitchenette, catching sight of the two bodies currently commandeering our tiny seating area.

I focused on the man sitting closest and the first thing I noticed about him was the sleek haircut he’d styled, it was clipped closely at the sides but left long on top to keep the thinning hairs going in one direction. He was different from what I’d expected, but not just because he was older, he also wore this brilliant smile when he moved to peer up at me, sincere enough that I felt my doubts ebb as I smiled back, taking in the rest of him and his fine fitting clothes which seemed to suit him well.

I dipped my head in a silent hello before my gaze flickered over towards our remaining guest.

It shouldn’t have felt as shocking as it did to finally set eyes on Matty Healy in person, not after all of the thorough planning I’d put into his very visit. But it was strangely surprising to bare witness to the way his lithe body was currently perched on the edge of our shabby armchair, the very same Adi, Finn and I had dragged back from the secondhand shop further up the main road. It felt wrong almost, having someone so obviously used to a certain luxury sat in the tatty thing.

I pulled my mind away from that last thought and focused on how I couldn't quite seem to tear my eyes away from the way Healy’s frame folded in on itself slightly, legs jutted out wide, elbows pressed against knees, and his chin cocked high. The guy’s overall stance was oddly domineering for someone so wraithlike, with hollowed cheeks and an aristocratic smile. It made him that much harder to read.

Healy’s own eyes were also hidden, so I couldn't make out the line of his gaze. Disguised behind a dark pair of glasses that I could only supposed cost more than what I’d make in two, maybe three months.

The question of what Healy might've first thought upon seeing me and the way I’d drowned myself in the oversized band tee I’d chosen that morning crossed my mind. But I was simply just thankful for the fact that I’d forgotten my knitted cardi somewhere behind me in the recording booth. Silently wishing that I had the balls, as well as the body, to pull off the outfits Adi liked to wear.

"Hiya." I finally greeted them, forcing myself to smile as I extended a polite hand outwards. "It's great to meet you both."

Even with the dark shades on, I easily spotted the way Healy's brows lifted in reply before he- rather reluctantly- clasped his own hand in mine.

I swallowed back the strained smile I wanted to give him in return and focused instead on the shake. Healy’s hands were apt, fingers long and slender, skin much softer than it should’ve been for any musician, and his knuckles prominent but wrist almost dainty. He was a juxtaposition if I’d ever seen one.

He was the first to pull away.

“Likewise.”

My jaw ticked at Healy’s sarky tone but I didn’t let it deter me. Staying professional, I turned to offer the same sentiment to his accomplice.

“I’m Mouse, by the way. It’s lovely to have you both. Hope you got here okay.”

The other man was much merrier than Healy, practically a total contrast actually, and he showed it in the joyful way he shook my hand, still smiling away.

“You know London traffic.” He replied around a low chuckle and let our hands fall, “Lovely to be here though. I’m Matty’s manager, Jamie.”

I smiled as I nodded in remembrance.

“Got to say, I really love what you two have done with this place. Skylight’s incredible.” Jamie added and I grinned before settling into the adjacent sofa, leaving plenty of space for Adi to take.

“You saw that? But yeah, I honestly think it’s the only reason we were so sold on this particular building- ‘cause the stairs are killer.”

“I can see why! I’m dying to have something like that back at mine, but the conservatory will have to do for now.” Jamie enthused and stood up when Adi strode on over.

Skillfully, the man helped guide the wooden tray Ads had been carrying towards the coffee table and smiled when she thanked him for his efforts, the image of a perfect gentleman.

“Thanks, Ads.” I breathed out in appreciation when the girl handed me my usual milky brew, then took a quick sip.

Someone snorted as I did and my eyes instantly flew over to discover that the sound had been made by Healy, because of course.

He seemed all too amused by something and, from the way his body was still angled towards me, I could only assume that it was down to something I'd done.

I blinked in confusion before I moved to raise my mug high above my head, reading the large, industrialised font that covered the bottom of the cup. Cunt.

The studio was probably the furthest thing from a professional setting, we’d always wanted the entire space to feel comfortable, safe even. But this was supposed to be our big break and so we had been trying to convey it as though it was. But here Adi was dishing out the gag gifts Finn had bestowed upon the loft last Christmas like it was a regular Tuesday.

Still, with a shake of my head, I couldn’t quite bring myself to dim my grudging grin as I shot a narrow eyed glare Adi’s way.

"Ta for that." I voiced with a light chortle and tipped the mug at her in false cheers, before my eyes then flittered over towards Jamie, who had since stifled his own amusement in favour of taking a slow sip of his own brew. And ah, yeah, there was the matching mug.

Healy laughed to himself in the little corner he’d created and I caught the way he subtly surveyed his own cup, out of the corner of my eye, just in case Adi had got him too.

Somehow he’d managed to avoid that particular jest and I knew that the only thing Healy really had to worry about now was if there was a secret dirty message waiting for him once he’d finally polished off his drink.

"What can I say? The mugs, they do not lie." Adi jeered, a mischievous glint in her eye before she turned her head back towards the two visitors. "See you've met our wonderful Mouse then! Ain't she a looker?"

I grimaced away from the hand that reached out to grab at my chin and silently questioned what I'd done to suddenly be on the deserving end of all her taunts.

Jamie laughed at the pair of us, but even with it, I didn't miss Healy's quiet hum or the way he was now seemingly more interested in the contents of his cup than the current conversation.

"Quite. We were actually just talking about you on the way up here, mate." Jamie divulged and I dragged my attention back towards the man, eyebrows lifting.

"Only good things, I hope." I replied, somewhat uncomfortably, but smiling lightly at Jamie before I managed to catch Adi's eye.

Ads simply waved me off. "Of course! They were interested in the show- how it started and what not." She told me and I nodded, mostly to myself as I relaxed further into the settee.

"Oh, well yeah, we've been around a while now."

"Adi mentioned that you were just a kid when you started out, sounds mad putting it like that." Jamie pondered, appearing quite intrigued by the topic. "How did this all come about then?"

Usually, I liked to skirt around this particular subject, wanting to dive straight into the work and forgo most of the small talk, but I caught the way Jamie’s eyes darted around our quaint little studio. He wasn’t just asking for the sake of it.

"If I'm being truly honest, a lot of stuff happened all at once." I revealed with a soft chuckle, but it lacked any of the mirth I was aiming for as I thought back to my second year of university, the year everything had quite literally turned on its head.

"I was in between jobs and my best mate suggested that I take the Twitter account I already had and turn it into something with a bigger presence. At the time, I had nothing left to lose so I just went for it."

At least, that was the shortened version of it. I’d skipped the mental breakdown, the almost losing my flat, and the birth of my child for the sake of not looking like a total psycho.

Jamie looked impressed or, at the very least, understanding as he nodded along to my words.

"Can't say I regret it now though." I had to tack on and smiled before attempting to trail my way onto a more formal topic. "I got your list by the way- what not to ask and all that. Think one of your lot emailed it to me earlier in the week. But I just wanted to let you both know-”

I let my eyes flit over towards Healy for a brief moment before they settled back on Jamie.

"That you don't have to worry about any of that whilst you're here. We want things to be relaxed, comfortable. I know your team was adamant on everything being a bit more structured, following the lines of an actual interview, but we don't do much of that around here. So I hope you're happy with just having a simple sit down."

"Like this?" Came a reply and I had to pause for a second before realising where the question had come from. Or who, rather.

I settled my mug down on my thigh, loosely supporting it with my hand, and looked over in the direction of Healy.

"A bit, yeah." I confirmed with an incline of my head, "That alright with you?"

The singer was silent for a long second and I couldn't help but take the opportune moment he gave to simply admire the way his fingers had wrapped themselves around his mug, mindlessly tapping away to a hollow tune.

Just when it appeared as though the silence had stretched on a beat too long, and Jamie had begun to shuffle forward ever so slightly in his seat, did Healy finally reply.

"If it's just you, then yes."

I tried not to let the reaction of how I really felt flash across my face then as I stared back at the man opposite.

From the corner of my eye, I could see the way Adi's lips had pursed unhappily in retort and how Jamie’s expression had hardened into a somewhat steely glare, desperate for Matty to spare a glance his way. Probably to scold him for being so painfully rude. But Healy, to my utter disbelief, kept his head firmly fixed towards me, even as he pushed the dark sunglasses he wore up into his curly hair.

It almost felt like we were in a stare off with the way I watched him for any tell that would surely give him away, slowly considering the proposition and not caring to cover up the way I could now stare into the other man’s dark brown eyes unabashedly.

From where I was sat, I could only just make out the darkened circles that rested beneath Healy’s pupils, as well as the red line that rimmed them. Their colour was far from unusual, brown, but his were not something you saw very often, they drew you in, kept you trapped. They harboured a multitude of other colours that blended ruthlessly into an array of raw umber.

As magnetising as they may have felt though, I found that I was mostly grateful to see that Healy’s pupils were of a normal size. The only thing I wanted to question were the walls that were so obviously barricaded behind them, giving me absolutely nothing in return.

"Just me?"

Healy simply stared back.

I couldn’t look Adi’s way when I finally answered the request, simply hoping that she would somehow understand. This felt too much like a test to say anything other than, “Alright. If that’s what you’d prefer.”

I moved to push my mug onto the corner of the coffee table, allowing myself a seconds release from his stare.

“But Adi often controls what goes on behind the scenes when we record, so it’ll be harder without her there, especially with all the cameras.” I explained carefully.

"Look, just hang on a second-" Jamie tried, obviously wanting to defuse the situation, but was ultimately cut off by Healy. It honestly felt as though the man believed neither Jamie nor Adi were a part of the conversation any longer.

"Can you do it?"

His tone was almost challenging, the four words fell from his wicked tongue like a dare.

"Not the type to back down." Was all I could think to retort, my hardened gaze once again zeroed in on Healy's own.

***

The recording booth was smaller than he’d expected. A table sat in the very centre, surrounded by a swarm of cameras and microphones, all of which seemed to be connected to a variety of wires Matty could hardly even bring himself to be cautious of as he stepped past.

The table hosted an array of tech though, from computers and mixing boards to monitors and speakers. None of which Matty was the least bit interested in either.

Three of the four walls were lined with acoustic foam panels, one’s you’d typically find in booths, while the last had been turned into a mural of sorts.

The mural was dark and edgy, a string of trees sprouted up from the ground and swept across the expanse of it, its branches winding upwards only to entangle in one another. A common field mouse sat crouched in between the trunks of the trees, its big eyes shining as it met Matty’s stare head-on. The walls centre held the name of the radio show and at first glance it looked as though it had been printed on one of those acrylic neon signs, but it was actually just extremely detailed.

Matty had to blink once or twice before he was finally able to look away.

"Who's work?" He found himself asking, filling the silence that had settled upon the closing of the booth's door. He jutted his chin out towards the far wall, sparing the art one last glance before he gave the girl his full focus.

Her eyes flitted up to meet his own before they sailed across to the mural.

"A friend." Was all she replied, but her voice had softened a touch now that it was just the two of them, Matty noted.

She offered nothing more than that and so Matty took it for what it was, nodding his quiet assent.

"Do you have anything in particular you'd like to talk about whilst you're here?" Mouse asked him as she clicked away at the computer, he felt strange using the name, even if it was just in his own head. "We've got a good hour or so before Adi comes snooping."

"I've got a million things I'd like to say," Matty let slip as he trailed on closer to the table, then forced a sardonic smile. "But I'm not particularly in the mood for a good tongue lashing today."

She looked slightly startled by his dry joke and Matty found himself having to hold back a smirk as he rounded the desk, fingertips gliding across the table's smooth surface.

"What about you, then?" He posed, not wanting to stunt their talk just as it had begun. Somewhat intrigued now. "Got anything you'd like to get off your chest for millions of people to hear?"

It was sarky, but when was he not? Though if he was being honest, Matty just found that he wanted to hear the girl talk, because for some reason he enjoyed listening to her. Her gentle accent had obviously been weakened during the time she'd spent in London but Matty enjoyed its easy lilt. It was almost soothing. He wondered where she was from, but didn't ask.

Mouse snorted, shaking her head. "Wouldn't quite say millions, a couple thousand at best."

Matty felt his eyebrows raise as he spared another glance over at her, thinking back to those eyes that had held his so solemnly. "What, even with me here?"

He was teasing, but her eyes widened briefly as though she feared she had offended him, but as mentioned, it was only a brief flicker before a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

"Well, I guess we'll just have to wait and see how loyal your fans truly are, Healy."

"Guess so." Matty mocked.

***

The show had gotten off to a rocky start. I had been all too aware of the surrounding cameras and the way the menacing rockstar, sat centimetres away from me, liked to keep his stare fixed firmly on me at all times, following my each and every movement.

I couldn't quite help the way I shifted uncomfortably every time I looked up and caught Healy's eye either, or the way I’d chosen to angle my face away from the cameras to avoid looking directly into any lenses.

I was dead crap when it came down to things like this. It all became too much, the pressure to entertain, to pretend that I was fine, that I was comfortable in my own skin, to chat away like there weren't already a thousand eyes studying my every flaw.

Look, give me a microphone and any sodding topic that either pissed me off or positively enthralled me and I'd be happy to rant the ears off of any nutter willing to listen. But in scenarios such as these, I always felt slightly on edge. Teetering on the verge of falling right on over it.

‘Cause I knew what people saw when they looked at me. I was all too familiar with the pitying glance I often got spared, as well as the grimaces people couldn’t seem to hide when they walked by.

I’d had to deal with it for years. Ever since I was a kid.

And upon hearing that, anyone would probably figure that I might’ve gotten used to all the gawking by now, especially with a toddler constantly keeping me on my toes. But ultimately my son’s presence often appeared to exaggerate the mixed reactions I received.

In truth, I’d never really been given the time to come to terms with the scars that marred my body, my face. The white lines that spoiled the features underneath.

So claiming it to be a rocky start, would only put a dent about the size of a pea into the way I was currently feeling!

Healy was rather unhelpful too, just as I’d predicted. He seemed to almost get off on watching me writhe under his leer and his answers to the questions or topics brought up were half-hearted at best.

Really, I was beginning to doubt the way in which I’d figured this entire mess would end.

It was only supposed to be a quick and easy chat, the two of us sat there gossiping like old mates, proving to the rest of the world that there really was no animosity or underlying conspiracies to this whole setup. When in actuality, that really wasn't the case.

Time and time again I found myself questioning why exactly Healy had even bothered to come, why he had even agreed to the whole ordeal in the first place. Especially when he was so apathetic with his replies.

"So," I trailed off, somewhat desperate to save what was left of the segment- for my sake at the very least. I didn't even want to think of what sort of issues this would cause for the show. "Music! I mean, from an outsider's point of view, we never really got the whole backstory on how you and the rest of the band really met. I mean, you’ve said you started it in secondary school, but you yourself were kind of pushed into the limelight at a really young age, so how did you and the guys connect?”

Healy tensed at that particular question, his shoulders forming a more rigid line as his gaze flickered away from me for only the briefest of seconds before it returned, but it was enough to alert me to the fact that I was treading into murky waters. I tried to backtrack.

"But in all honesty, what I really want to know about are all the sordid details, life after all that crap, the answers to the things people never think to ask. Like, I've seen pictures of your clearly extensive guitar collection all over your Instagram feed, you must have a favourite!"

Matty's lips curled into something which almost resembled a smile then and it honest to God threw me through a loop. A metaphorical loop, of course, I wasn't quite sure if we could fit any sort of loop-like shape into a space this small.

But I was letting myself get sidetracked and couldn't help but question whether that was the sort of thing Healy typically thrived off of. He’d smiled, and nothing wicked or sarky had tinged it, it’d been a genuine smile. And I had to blink just to make sure my eyes hadn't been playing tricks on me as Healy edged forward in his seat, a coy grin now dancing at the corners of his muted pink lips.

"A favourite? Now that's the question to ask! Honestly? It'll have to be the '63 Jazzmaster I've got. It’s wicked, used by the Ramones on their debut album and then by David Byrne on early Syre demos. So it’s seen quite a bit."

After that, I just sat there. Stunned as Healy continued to rant about this poxy guitar he was so obviously smitten with and couldn't help but be utterly captivated by each and every word that slipped from his mouth.

Apparently all I had ever needed to get past the games and ginormous walls Healy had defensively built around himself was to simply be myself. Ask the questions that maybe only I wanted to know the answers to.

See, I wasn't the biggest people person but I figured myself to be somewhat of a skilful conversationalist. What with my past, I’d kind of had to force myself to be. But I was glad to have finally been given an in with Healy, no matter how small. It helped the interview pass by a lot easier.

Although the new spirit Healy adopted after that only seemed to last until nearing the very end of the show.

In truth, I had all but forgotten about the cameras and microphones set up, the fact that people were still listening in, were watching us converse, whilst I simply lost myself in listening to Healy prattle away. Positively enraptured by the way the musician's mind worked as he explained the complexity of a certain riff he adored, or the time he'd pretended to get off in Madison Square Garden- much to the dismay of his PR Team.

"They went absolutely mental when I first proposed it. I'm telling you! Yapping about time and effort, and it being too much for the younger viewers, then the plans that would have to be put into place- all that merry shite. And I’d just been sitting there in these, these skimpy leather trousers, quietly debating over when, or if I'd ever, get the feeling back in my legs. And don't even get me started on my knob. I mean, it must've shrivelled up and die- hang on, I can say knob, right? On air?"

Looking at him in that moment, forgetting everything I already knew, it was like I was seeing this whole other person. Someone who wasn't so confrontational, so quick to defend, or easy to recoil.

It was clear, to me at least, that Healy wasn't the image the media painted of him, he was simply human. A troubled man who truly loved music, in every sort of variety, and wanted to vocalise and share that love with everyone else. He was eccentric for sure, but sincere.

I could see that, even if it only felt like I'd only been given the tiniest bit of insight into the person Healy so obviously tried to keep concealed.

It wasn't long later when I startled somewhat upon seeing the flashing red light of one of our cameras go off to my left and immediately, I jolted upright in my seat.

"God- crap!" I blurted out stupidly as I grabbed at the headset that had threatened to fall off my head in my sudden haste. "Hold on. Sorry, got really sidetracked there- one of the camera's is telling me it's on its last legs, so we'd best start wrapping this up."

Healy deflated ever so visibly, shrinking back in his seat as he huffed a soundless chuckle.

"Can't seem to stop me once I get going." Healy widened his eyes to emphasise his point and I observed how he had hastily retreated back into himself to haul his guard up again.

I was quick to shake my head. "No, truthfully I can't remember the last time I just got to sit here and listen. It was nice not having to do all the work for once."

Matty licked at his top lip upon hearing that and rewarded me with another mirthful smirk. I realised I'd properly put my foot in it there, stressing over why I’d even worded it like that.

Whilst he chuckled to himself at the picture I must’ve made, I decided my best bet was to hurry on and end the show, reciting what needed to be said before I finally signed off, clicking a button.

It was just as the 'ON AIR' sign above the door went off that Adi barged straight through the entrance, gracing us with her wonderful presence. Jamie was just behind her, peeking his head around the doorframe.

"Well I think I can say that that went as well as it could’ve!" He announced, coming to a standstill by Matty as he clapped his client heartily on the back. "Well done, Matt. You as well, Mouse."

"Appreciate it." I smiled up at him before tugging off my headphones and pushing away the mic.

With all four of us now crowded into the makeshift room, the booth suddenly felt a lot smaller than it usually did, and so I tried my best to disguise the way my body immediately reacted to the realisation.

"I'm in dire need of a fag though. Will you be alright tidying up in here, Ads?" I announced as I pulled myself up onto my feet, already beginning to shuffle towards the exit. I picked up the cardigan I'd left on the back of one of the chairs as I went, using it as a shield almost.

"Yeah, of course. Glasses here wanted to discuss one more thing before they made a move anyway."

I shot an arched brow at the man in question but Jamie waved my curiosity off. "Nothing too detailed. Just some forms that need signing."

I didn't much like the part of the arrangement that came after recording, but with an understanding ‘Ah’, I forced myself to ask, "Erm, don't suppose you need me to stick around for any of that do you?"

"Nah," Jamie laughed lightly, "Go on, you're all good."

I smiled, silently praising the stars above as I nodded once and resumed my exit, tugging the cardi on as I hastily made my way over to the fire escape.

Praying that our luck hadn’t run out just yet, I hoped that no one else was up on the roof waiting for me when I pulled my feet up the rickety metal staircase. It was just about the last thing I needed at that moment.

I already had my lighter in hand by the time I'd made it over to our little makeshift patio we’d created, which consisted of a few wooden pallets and a couple of large cushions that overlooked the neighbouring buildings.

It wasn't much, Islington. It was inner London sure, and had its fair few classier joints to show off, but I much preferred what else it had to offer. Like how the hustle and bustle of the city quietened just as you lost yourself down the backroads. And all the parks that had been scattered in and around the main developments and the dozens and dozens of buildings that were constantly cropping up. How there was a pub on almost every street corner and a Sainsbury's never too far away. I even enjoyed the gentle rattle of the overground, it was all too familiar now. Felt more like home than the Isles ever had.

Looking out across the surrounding rooftops, I wondered again just why my mum had yet to leave our tiny town as I lit a cigarette and lifted the filter to my lips.

The first chance my father ever got he’d gone running for the hills and then me, myself, had upped and left the confines of our small cottage as soon as the offer had presented itself.

It wasn't that the harbour town I'd grown up in had nothing to offer. It had a sense of community, a beautiful shoreline (even in the colder months), and of course, the local rugby team.

But speaking in a manner of careers, well, unless you were breaking out on your own and had the cash to open up a shop on the high-street, then you were probably destined to either work in the local greengrocers, serve behind the village bar, or get a shift down by the docks.

You were lucky if you had a bit more meat on your bones though, because then you also had the added opportunity of getting an offer to start laying bricks for one of the few building companies. Most of which were family based.

We had the main school too which housed both primary and secondary kids, and the local college was available if you wanted to further your education. But the closest University campus was a good hundred miles away.

I had applied, but only to lessen the guilt I'd felt towards my mother when I'd started looking for courses available in just about any place apart from home whilst filling out uni apps.

I could still recall the day I’d finally told her I'd be leaving for London. Felt like a lifetime ago now really.

I'd definitely have to call her up again soon, to make sure that she was doing okay, even if it meant that I'd be forced to listen to her rattle on about coming home for Christmas. Again.

I sighed contently to myself and it was just as I flicked away a stump of ash that I heard someone approach.

118 notes · View notes

her-satanic-wiles · 10 months ago

Text

Masterlist ⛧ Lost in Translation Masterlist ⛧ Ao3

Words: 13.1k.

Reading Time: 53 min.

Warnings: biting, caught having sex, cheating?, corruption kink, cum eating, cum kink?, creampie, cunnilingus, detailed depression, detailed panic attacks, dry humping, exhibitionism, face sitting, feelings of lonliness/abandonment, low self-esteem, marking, mild mind break, naked woman clothed man, pain kink, poor mental health, primal kink?, public sex, salirophilia, spanking, taint tickling (woohoo!), under the influence?, unprotected sex (wrap the shlang before you bang m’dudes), vaginal sex, worship,

Please note that some of these tags are a smidge inaccurate if you want to talk about specifics, but they’re the closest thing I can think of to give you somewhat of a warning without actually spoiling anything. Like, they’re under the influence but not of drugs or alcohol, and everyone’s consenting but they’re also kind of not in their right mind as well but they’re not under the influence. Like it’s not primal, but it is mind hazy/breaky animalistic in a sense so like? Idk how to tag it. You’ll get it when you read it but if these are triggers for you then I’d recommend just skipping.

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

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

Previous Part ⛧ Next Part

🔞 MDNI 🔞

The snake was watching you the whole time, its marble eyes staring into your soul and laying it almost as bare as your physical body. There was no judgment, quite the opposite actually. It was praising you, egging you on as Copia’s hands held your thighs down so he could get at your cunt from beneath you.

Your sodden folds dripped onto his face the more he sucked on your clit, getting wetter and wetter with your arousal and his added saliva. Your hips bucked wildly of their own volition, his tongue dragging across your core as you took your pleasure from his mouth. Your habit had been hiked up to your waist, allowing Copia full access to your core. All the while, your eyes were locked onto the snake, moans echoing throughout the ancient library.

You felt sinfully filthy. The library that was once your private sanctuary away from the stresses of daily life now lay underneath your knees, reverberating your wanton sounds as you traded knowledge for lust. Once again, Copia’s moustache tickling your clit with each thrust of your hips, causing one of your hands to tangle in his locks. Your clit would occasionally hit against his nose as you rubbed yourself against him, crying out ever louder at the feel of his warm breath hitting your core. He was pinned beneath you, there was nowhere he could go so easily - yet there you were, trapping him with your thighs and clasping onto his hair for extra security.

Copia let this happen - he allowed you to jump his bones after the library closed for the night and it was just the two of you. You looked divine anyway, all sleepy and eyes slightly red from the dim light of your office as you’d worked for hours upon hours deciphering that text, starved of any touch from him as all of his advances were met with pleas for concentration. When you locked eyes with him towards the end of the night, after Sibling Riley had dragged you out for some fresh air, you were delirious, ravenous, downright feral - and Copia was rock hard.

He lay on the cold floor, in the shadow of the snake, both hands on you and ignoring his own arousal, dedicating his body to you and you alone. He buried his tongue wherever your desperate cunt would let him, inside your hole, over your taint, sucking on your clit. He was still learning your body, everything that made you tick, everything that made you scream his name so the whole Ministry could hear exactly who was turning you into a filthy animal. The quiet librarian, on her knees in front of Lucifer as the unholy connection between Earth and Hell was at her mercy.

The orgasm you had was so mind-numbingly good, you heard your drool hit the laquered floor beneath you. It was all electric shocks bursting from your cunt and splitting every single one of your nerve endings in half, freezing your body and curling your toes as you were leaking all over your lover’s big nose.

Your body felt numb, like it wouldn’t respond even if you forced it to. Somehow, you weren’t sure how, you remained upright, on your knees and steady. You vaguely registered your habit being lifted over your head and hearing Copia’s groan when he discovered you were bra-less and completely nude for him. You hadn’t heard the zipper of his jeans drop.

You felt your flesh being trapped roughly between his teeth as he bit your ass, your back, your shoulder blade, your neck, and finally your ear. That was taken into his mouth as he pushed into your cunt, already sloppy and and prepped enough for him to just slide all the way in with no resistance. Another groan escaped Copia when he bottomed out, the vibrations of the deep noise standing all your hairs on end.

It had been days without you, despite Copia’s attempts at getting into your pants then having to accept the rejection when he saw how stressed you were over these translations. He had already found himself becoming addicted to you after he entered you for the first time back in London, and the last few days had been damn near punishing without you. Sliding into you felt like the closest to Heaven he’d ever be, and he, too, felt the effects of the snake’s eyes on him. He felt more animalistic in his needs - his mind so clouded that fucking you in the middle of the public library felt like the only thing he ever needed to do.

Every drag of his cock against your walls was heightened by the haze clouding both of your minds, driving you to carnal lust and only that. You were so far gone from your stress and now your relief, that you just couldn’t form sentences at all. Your mind only focussing on the feel of his length ramming into you hard and slow, hitting your cervix with enough force to have your whole body shaking. Copia, on the other hand, was unable to shut up. His words slurring between the Italian expletives and the filth that was spewing from his mouth.

“I can feel you squeezing every time the door rattles, amore. Do you like knowing that someone could walk in and catch you on my cock, hm? The way you’re moaning, I would think you want them to come in and watch. Or is this performance for the Dark One only, amore? Cazzo! You’re so fucking tight for me.”

He smiled at the sound you made in response, a deep chuckle sounding at the back of his throat. His tongue caught between his teeth as he hissed at a particular thrust that felt so, incredibly delicious, he thought he’d go insane. His hands moved to your shoulder blades, situating right in the centre and he pushed you down onto your elbows, moaning at the way your back arched and your ass jiggled with each snap of his hips.

His hand came down and landed on your asscheek, making it jiggle a little more, his lips catching between his teeth as he watched the skin turn redder and redder. You clenched around his cock at the feeling, which only egged him on to do it again.

Slap.

Slap!

By the third one, your clit was dying for attention, and so you reached down and started playing with yourself, your fingers working quickly over the bundle of nerves in the dire need to reach orgasm. Copia’s large hands reached your hips, and pulled on them, gripping them so hard they might bruise. His pace was unforgiving at that point, just taking what he needed from you as you continued to get tighter and tighter around him, closer to orgasm. Your ass ricocheted off of him with each snap of his hips, the sound combining with the stickiness of your cunt and the noises coming from it had Copia’s cock twitched. You were so wet and pliant for him, a good girl using him and letting him use you. He could hardly breathe, and you could feel him all the way up into your stomach.

“Cumming!” That was all the warning you could give before your fingers, frantically stroking at your sensitive clit, had now worked you into your second orgasm of the evening. Your cunt quivered as each wave of your climax hit, sending him into his own. His hips jerked to a stop, each thrust still as rough as the last but slow in their hits, a grunt slipping out of his mouth with each one. His cum poured deep into you, and you were so sensitive you could practically feel it.

But Copia wasn’t done with you yet.

He lay back underneath you, pulling your pussy back down onto his mouth and began licking and sucking away again, your cry so much louder than either of you had anticipated. His tongue worked deep into your core while your hips slid across his face, once again rubbing your clit against his nose. He made short work of your third orgasm, especially with you knowing that he was sucking his own cum out of your messy cunt with such fervour, you were surprised he didn’t want to bury himself deep inside you again and take you one more time. But, once you’d finished shaking, he gave your ass two playful taps before sitting up and pulling you into his arms, both of you kneeling on the cold floor panting and gasping for air, your minds clear and your bodies nude and sweaty from the exertion.

You were the one to break the silence first - not with words, but with laughter. Your body was doing its own thing, trembling in his arms from the adrenaline that was beginning to leave your body, as was your sanity by the sounds of it. Copia pressed kisses over your face, fervent, loving kisses as he rocked you gently. “Are you okay, amore?” He asked, his voice a whisper.

You nodded. Though your brain regained some of the clarity it lost when you first saw Copia, you were still very much fucked out of your head, to the point where you could still feel it spinning. “Sleepy.” You told him simply.

“Non sono sorpreso. When was the last time you had a good night’s sleep, eh?”

You chuckled. “Right back at you, Cardinal.”

“You’re right,” he relented easily, rubbing his fingers up and down your arm, “let’s get you dressed and back to my room, hm?”

“Why? So you can ruin me again?” You teased.

“Maybe in the morning.”

Warm light filled the room as the gentle morning light entered through the open drapes. You awoke slowly from a sound sleep, and the unfamiliar surroundings of Copia’s bedroom became clear. There was a wrapping of calm in his private quarters, even with the distant, rhythmic noises of the Ministry humming in the background, the day beginning as usual for everyone there.

With the softness of dawn light on his features, Copia lay alongside you. His dark hair was all over the pillow, and his chest was rising and falling in a pattern that suggested he was sleeping soundly.

Recollections of the previous night surged back as awareness engulfed you. The hours you spent translating the unholy scripture, the pounding you received in front of the Statue of Eden, the jokes you told each other, and the private talks you had in Copia’s chamber felt unreal, but the fact that he was there to support you kept it grounded.

You shifted slightly, careful not to disturb his slumber, and took a moment to observe the details of the room. Curiosity eventually got the better of you, and so, as if you were someone straight out of a movie, you gripped onto one of the blankets that sat on the bed and wrapped it around your body to preserve your modesty. You could have put your habit back on, but you also needed a shower, and you had no idea what Copia had planned for you. With your new and unusual outfit draped precariously around your body, you slowly began to tiptoe around his room, getting a sense of who he was when he wasn’t in charge of an entire religious sect.

A plethora of volumes from all genres and eras filled the bookshelves, which was a testament to Cardinal Copia’s wide-ranging interests and tastes. Every spine appeared to tell a story as you read the titles: A collection of philosophical essays and reflections. Another book indicated Copia’s love of music and seemed to delve into the mystical elements of melodic compositions.

There was an anthology of occult knowledge and rituals, showcasing Copia’s interest in the esoteric also sat upon the shelf, standing between a historical account, likely chronicling the rise and evolution of the Ministry under various leaderships; and a compilation of folklore and mythologies from different cultures, reflecting a broad interest in the stories that shape human imagination.

Turning the pages of “Infernal Insights: A Treatise on Satanism,” you found a comprehensive, multifaceted investigation into Satanism. The text analysed the ideology in detail rather than offering a straightforward defence or criticism.

The first section of the thesis addressed the development and historical foundations of Satanism, following its inception across many theological and cultural contexts. It explored the various ways that Satanism had been viewed and applied throughout history. It illuminated the symbolic aspects and intended spiritual or psychological repercussions of a number of Satanic rituals and practices by providing in-depth explanations of them. The author looked at the ways in which rituals could be used to celebrate personal empowerment and establish a connection with Satan Himself. You pondered the number of these rites that Copia had carried out and the number that he would carry out with you.

As you placed the book back on the bookshelf, your curiosity continued to guide you through Cardinal Copia’s private space. The transition from the bedroom to the main living area was seamless, and the atmosphere shifted as you stepped into a room adorned with a rich blend of Gothic aesthetics and modern comfort.

The space was centred on a large, antique wooden table that was flanked by luxurious chairs with velvet upholstery that radiated luxury and cosiness. A variety of candles in elaborate holders glowed on the table, creating shimmering shadows on the glossy top. The room’s furniture was tastefully mismatched, with a mix of modern and antique items that gave the space a distinctive look.

Copia watched you wander around his living room in nothing but blankets from the bed, and stayed in the doorway silently, smiling at your curiosity. You had no idea he was there until you turned to go to a different area of his apartment and saw him there, your eyes widened like a deer in the headlights and looking absolutely delectable.

He had a dark glint in his eye at the sight of you, cock hardening at your innocence. His lip trapped itself between his teeth as he stalked towards you, preparing to take his early-morning prize. He took you on that antique table, throwing the blanket on the floor and bending you over the wood so he could bury himself deep inside you and have you screaming out for him. Scratches appeared down his back at the force of his hips slamming into you. You walked to work that day with a limp, while he walked to work with his ears ringing from the sound of your pleasure.

Life carried on this way for some time - a few weeks at most. Every day, you’d translate the Chronicles, and then find yourself in Copia’s arms come nightfall, or even speared on his cock. Neither of which you complained about, of course, more than happy to be the one he looked for in the comfort of the night. He took you wherever he could: your office, the floor between the library shelves, in his room, his office. Any time he could get his hands on you, he absolutely would, and he’d never let you go once he had hold of you. All other responsibilities came second.

The haze that had fallen over the two of you dissipated just two days after that, and in that one moment, you felt the tides change for the rest of your life.

You were sat upon Copia’s desk, his head between your thighs and tongue lapping at your core when a knock at the door brought your pleasures to an end. The person who knocked didn’t bother waiting for an invitation, pushing the door open and cutting your activity short. Both you and Copia fumbled quickly, to both preserve your modesty and pretend that nothing had actually happened - though, your flushed cheeks and his wet chin was evidence enough.

“Ah, Sister!” Copia said, straightening his hair and trying to make himself presentable for Sister Imperator, whose face was eyeing both of you with a stern look plastered upon it - clearly unimpressed. “I didn’t expect you… here… today… right now.”

“No,” Sister Imperator said, her eyes raking over your body as you tried to straighten your habit, “clearly not. So this is why none of your work is getting done.”

“Sister, I can assure you that I’m not slacking.”

“You don’t need to be here for this, Sister.” She said, looking directly at you. “Off you go to your duties.” You looked briefly at Copia, and before he could say anything, she spoke. Her voice was filled with frustration now, “Now.”

“Yes, Sister.”

With your tail between your legs you quickly made your escape, closing the door tightly shut behind you. Nothing good would come of the Sister Imperatrix kicking you out like that, and your stomach dropped at the dread. It was only when you were walking back to the library, you realised that Copia still had your panties in his pocket.

Sister Aisha laughed at your dishevelled appearance when she saw you, a knowing glint in her eyes. “Look who finally graced us with her presence!” She teased.

Your face flushed with embarrassment, and you stammered in an attempt to regain composure. “I-I didn’t mean to disturb him! I just wanted to update him on my progress.”

Sister Aisha chuckled, “I think something else progressed judging by the state of you.” She moved around the desk to help straighten your clothes and make you presentable again.

Although the feeling of discomfort remained, Sister Aisha’s humorous manner calmed the mood. “Sister Imperator walked in on us. She kicked me out.”

Sister Aisha’s hands froze at your veil, her eyes widening slightly as she clearly understood what you were saying. Copia was getting a verbal lashing.

“Ah, these things happen,” Sister Aisha said with a playful wink. “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

You nodded in response but your stomach still churned.

Sibling Riley raised an eyebrow at your disheveled state, walking over to the desk with a cart of returned books being dragged behind him. “Midday escapades, Sister?”

Before you could defend yourself, Sister Aisha interjected, “Our dear Sister here has become a muse for Cardinal Copia. A living, breathing inspiration, if you will.”

Sibling Riley smirked. “Oh, is that what they’re calling it these days? Inspiring Cardinals in the middle of the day?”

You groaned, the teasing from your companions proving relentless. “Can we please focus on the important matters at hand?”

Sister Aisha looked at Sibling Riley, her eyes widened, conveying a silent message. “Sister Imperator caught them - but everything’s fine, isn’t it, Sibling?”

Sibling Riley picked up what Sister Aisha was putting down. “Of course it is. So she caught you mid-fuck… not like you’re defying the Dark One or anything.”

You said, “You didn’t see the look on her face. It was like we were converting to Catholicism right in front of her.”

Sister Aisha, “Come off it. The Cardinal’s meant to be balls deep in anything that moves - Papa Terzo was.”

Sibling Riley, “He was removed, though.”

“For not sticking to the teachings of the Church, not for fucking as many people as he did.”

You sighed, feeling a mix of frustration and amusement at the absurdity of the conversation. “This really isn’t helping.”

“Listen,” Sibling Riley said, “you won’t get into trouble - you’re going to be fine, everything will be fine, okay? She probably kicked you out for Upper Clergy matters. I mean, let’s face it, you’re not exactly privy to the every day runnings of the church, are you?”

You took a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves and believe your friends. “You’re right. Thank you. I have work to do, and I’d rather not dwell on personal matters right now.”

Sibling Riley nodded, a hint of sincerity in their eyes. “Fair enough, Sister. We’re here for you, regardless.”

“Thank you.”

There was a hint of tension in the Ministry in the days that followed. The typical sibling banter and friendliness felt strained, and you were forced to contend with the knowing looks and quiet murmurs that followed you. Sibling Riley and Sister Aisha appeared to be watching you more intently, showing a mixture of wonder and worry in their expressions, in spite of their earlier assurances.

Your thoughts started to become troubled by Cardinal Copia’s lack of contact. Your concern increased with each passing second without hearing from Copia, and transcribing ancient writings felt like an uninteresting routine that just seemed to be a pointless waste of time, though you knew it wasn’t. The fact that the Upper Clergy had been radio silent, too, wasn’t lost on you.

Sister Imperator was a mysterious and powerful person in the Ministry who inspired terror in the hearts of many. Her acts were frequently surrounded by an air of secrecy and harshness, and her presence alone was capable of inspiring a trickle of piss to run down your leg when you least expected it. While your brain knew that you hadn’t done anything wrong, you still felt like a naughty schoolchild just waiting for punishment.

She never came to you. You were summoned to her.

One of her own Ghouls came to collect you in the days after Copia’s office, interrupting your work and walking you down the cold, unfeeling corridors you once used to marvel at. The whole Ministry felt darker, as though a witch had cast a curse on the place and was taking pleasure in the way you squirmed in discomfort. The long walk to Sister Imperator’s office felt like a murderer’s walk to the gallows - like you were about to be put to death for treason against the state.

The Ghoul knocked on the door, and the Sister’s voice boomed from behind the wood, inviting you both in. The Ghoul, speaking for the first time since pulling you out of your office, announced your presence, then promptly left.

Sister Imperator put her pen down, and turned her attention to you, her brown eyes scouring over your body again, as if she were studying you. “Ah, Sister,” she said, her tone much softer than it was the last time she saw you, unnervingly so, “welcome. Please, take a seat. Would you like anything to drink?”

You shook your head. “No thank you,” you told her as you sat on the chair in front of her desk.

“I apologise for distracting you from your work, but it turns out you and I have important business to discuss. As Sister Imperatrix of this Ministry, and close advisor to the Cardinal, it’s my duty to act on the Cardinal’s behalf when he’s unable to do so. Now, it’s come to my understanding that you and the Cardinal have been… spending some time together, yes?”

“Yes. He asked me to help him translate-”

“I know. You both got carried away since then, hm?”

“I… I’m sorry, Sister, but what’s this about?”

“Right, yes. Let me get straight to the point. Unfortunately, Sister, any escapades you’ve had with the Cardinal must come to an end. His work is beginning to suffer, as is his personal life.”

You frowned. “I’m sorry, Sister, I’m not following. I didn’t realise we’d done anything wrong.”

“Well, you wouldn’t. The thing is, Sister, the Cardinal has been consumed by his fun little distraction. While that’s all you were to him - a distraction - he allowed himself to ignore all of his other duties and responsibilities. As a result, the Upper Clergy have decided to cut him off from the temptation of the flesh… for the time being at least. Until his partnership is finalised and he takes a Prime Mover.”

The realisation from Sister Imperator hit you like a lightning bolt, leaving you dazed and confused. Her remarks held a whirlwind of emotions that swirled around feelings of betrayal, rage, and perplexity. “You’re saying I’m a distraction? That I’m somehow hindering the Cardinal?”

Sister Imperator nodded. “The Cardinal’s commitment to his work and the Ministry’s objectives is of utmost importance. Any personal entanglements that divert his attention from these priorities must be addressed.”

A mixture of disbelief and hurt welled up inside you. The connection you felt with Copia, the shared moments and the blossoming understanding—all reduced to a mere distraction in the eyes of the Upper Clergy.

“But we were translating an important text, a sacred text for the Ministry,” you protested, seeking a thread of reason in the unraveling situation. “Our work was in service to the Church. How is that a distraction?”

“Sleeping with him isn’t beneficial to the Church when the Church has already decided his future, Sister. A future that doesn’t have you in it, I’m sorry to say. Now, you still have a place at the Ministry if you want it - you are incredibly valuable to our dark cause and we need you and your mind. However, we must ask that you please refrain from speaking to the Cardinal, or even being in his presence as much as possible.”

“But how am I supposed to do that when I’m translating the Chronicles for him?”

“All important information can be given to me and I’ll relay it to him.”

“But-”

“Please don’t make this harder than it needs to be, Sister.” Sister Impertor was clearly getting more and more agitated the longer you spent in her office defying her demands. “I… we have worked too hard for the Cardinal and his career for someone to come and ruin it now.”

“And he doesn’t get a say in this?”

“He does. These are his wants and wishes, too.”

“I doubt that. I want to see him.”

“I’d advise against that, Sister.”

You stood, “I appreciate your advice, Sister, but I’d rather hear all this from Copia. Excuse me.”

The Sister’s words were swirling round in your head, fear building in your stomach with every step you took towards Copia’s office. You didn’t want to believe it, that he would treat you like this without so much as a conversation beforehand. He acted like he was enamoured by you, infatuated with you to the point where all he could do each day was exist for you.

But he hadn’t told you that he loved you.

Actions spoke louder than words, and Copia’s actions seemed like they were shouting to the world from the peak of a mountain: “Look! Look at her! I adore her with ever fibre of my being. I live for her! I breathe only her! I would die without her near.”

Seemed. You don’t know.

You hit the side of your head with the heel of your palm, trying to dispel the negative thoughts. The internal argument you were having with yourself over Copia’s actions was enough to drive everyone mad, and you could feel your body running on everything other than logic and sanity. Your breath was getting lodged in your throat and tears stung at your eyes. You were so close to his office now - you’d see.

He’d be sat at his desk doing his work and he’d look up in surprise. He’d see you, and he’d start to chastise you for distracting him when he was busy, but then he’d notice your tears, wrap his arms around your body and hold you close as you let the panic fade away into his warm embrace. He’d rock you, shush you, comfort you. He’d tell you that he loved you. He’d kiss you. He’d remind you that you were his, and he was yours.

Or he’d echo Sister Imperator’s words.

If he does, then so be it. Better those words to come from his mouth than a messenger’s. At least then you’d know.

But you’d never have him again.

You turned the corner and rushed towards his office door, the cold, iron handle biting at your skin as you pushed down on it and forced your way in. You hand may have been cold from the iron handle, but your blood was cold from the sight that lay before you.

Copia was sat at his desk but he wasn’t doing his work. You couldn’t see his body properly as he was hidden behind a mass of black. At first, you couldn’t tell what was happening, but the longer you stayed there, the clearer it became. That was unmistakably Copia sat beneath another Sister of Sin, his gloved hands clutching onto her ass as she sat on his lap. Her hips moved, grinding down onto his crotch as her whimpers filled the air, accompanying the sounds of their lips smacking together.

You didn’t realise you’d made a noise until their attention both snapped to your direction, the Cardinal’s mismatched eyes finally registering who was standing in his doorway and interrupting his break. A small gasp fell from his kiss-swollen lips, before, “merda!” was uttered. He tried pushing the Sister of Sin off of him, but it was too late. You’d seen what you needed to see. You’d turned and started to make your way out of his office.

“Sorella, wait please!”

The door slammed shut behind you and you’d already made your way out of sight when the Cardinal had finally reached and opened the door.

You’d got halfway back to your room when you saw Sister Imperator walking towards you, no doubt making her way to the Cardinal’s office to watch the drama unfold. The tears that you’d held back when you’d closed his office door were out in full force by the time Sister Imperator had reached you, and there was nothing you could do to hide them.

She sighed and looked at you, her hands holding onto your shoulders in a feeble attempt at comfort. Her eyes were filled with sadness, a sadness you didn’t expect to see from a woman as coldhearted as she was, but it was there. A faint whisper of a connection telling you that she’d been through the exact same thing once upon a time, and knew what this heartbreak felt like. “He didn’t see you cry, did he?” She asked, a gentleness to her voice that you never thought you’d hear.

Your words failed you, and instead you just shook your head.

“Oh, sweet child.” She pulled you in for a hug and began comforting you in the way you’d wanted the Cardinal to. It was surprisingly warm and caring, filled with compassion and kindness. “Never let them see you cry - never give them that satisfaction of knowing what they’ve done to you.”

In the corridors of the Ministry, you cried in Sister Imperator’s arms until all the tears had been shed and your teeth were tingling from the numbness you were now feeling. To her credit, Sister Imperator never left your side until she knew that you were strong enough to walk on your own. She’d told you to take the rest of the day to yourself, and maybe even the rest of the week if you wanted to, and had you go back to your apartment and take care of yourself. She sent one of her Ghouls to the library to inform the Siblings there that you’d not be returning to work for at least the rest of the day - though, of course, she had no idea just how close the three of you were. Everything was already arranged. There was nothing to be done except wallow.

And wallow you did.

Sister Aisha and Sibling Riley took it in turns to come to your apartment and keep you fed and watered, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to eat more than a few bites, the depression was too strong for that.

The days passed in a veil of sorrow, the seclusion of your apartment accentuating the echoes of broken dreams. Lost in the devastation of your emotional turmoil, the manuscripts and parchments that once promised ancient mysteries now sat ignored on your desk, while you felt your heart shatter with each memory that played in your head. All the late-night conversations, the touches, the glances, the feel of his breath in the crook of your neck as he slept - or even rocked into you passionately under the veil of night. Lying there, in the darkness of your room, it was almost as though you could feel his arm draped over your waist, phantom fingers on your thighs and the haunting smell of his cologne on your habit.

Your world fell apart following the office, leaving behind a barren wasteland of emotional debris. Your life’s formerly vivid colours faded to subdued greys, with the ghost of his memories resonating through every day. The promise of shared laughter and whispered confessions had long since faded, leaving the air weighted with grief.

Heartbreak’s fingers wrapped themselves around you, entangling every idea you had in a web of despair. The manuscripts and parchments that once piqued your interest now lay untouched, a glaring monument to the numbness that held your soul. The Ministry, which had previously been a refuge of shared moments, had morphed into a tunnel of solitude, with echoes of laughter reverberating as bitter reminders of what had been.

Your bed had become both a sanctuary and a prison, its embrace a frigid consolation against the searing ache within. The world outside the covers grew lifeless. With every day it became a shapeless haze of pain and hopelessness. It was impossible to get out of bed; the sadness of your loss bound you to the nothingness that around you.

The prospect of facing the Ministry, where every nook contained whispers of shared secrets and stolen glances, became an excruciating agony. The formerly known hallways appeared to be a maze, with every turn serving as a reminder of the joy that evaded you. You felt the weight of loneliness pressing down on you, pulling you more and further into the pit of despair.

He was everywhere, his energy was all over the corridors and rooms of the Ministry and you felt suffocated and trapped. There was not a single inch of you apartment alone that didn’t resonate with your previous relationship with the Cardinal, even the look of every day items enough to send you into some kind of flashback, where you could see him, feel him - where every inch of your senses was clouded by him as if he were there with you.

Your waking hours were plagued by visions of him laughing, of his awkward charm, of the delicate minutes spent delving into old mysteries. No amount of sleep could save your dreams from the bittersweet reel of recollections that played endlessly in the back of your mind.

Sister Aisha and Sibling Riley, ever-supportive, tried to coax you out of your grief, offering comforting words and attempts at distraction. They understood the pain you were going through, having witnessed the deep connection between you and the Cardinal. However, healing from such emotional wounds was a process, and time seemed to move at a glacial pace.

At first, they were gentle with you, handling you as if you were a delicate piece of glass that could shatter at the sound of a pin dropping - or rather, a souffle in front of a crying baby. But eventually, Sibling Riley had had enough of watching your despair firsthand, and feeling just as hopeless as you.

People never really think about the friends and family surrounding the person going through something like this. Of course, because they’re not the centre of attention. But sometimes, they suffer as much as you do because they’re watching the person they love the most go through some of the worst things imaginable and they’re unable to do anything.

Sibling Riley experienced a deep sense of powerlessness as they saw you deal with the fallout from the separation. The typical humour and friendship that marked your interactions now devolved into a solemn mood as they struggled to heal the wounds in your soul.

Every attempt to provide solace felt like tossing pebbles into an abyss, the echoes of your pain reverberating against the walls of their own sense of inadequacy. The weight of your despair pressed upon their shoulders, a burden shared but seemingly insurmountable.

Words, which were often their ally, started to become elusive, as if speech itself had deserted them in the midst of your pain. Every effort to console you felt like a weak effort because the depth of your suffering was greater than the comforting words they could offer. But even they could see that the gentle approach was no longer working. That they needed to do something more than tell you how loved you were, and how the Cardinal was a dumbass for letting you go so easily.

They couldn’t let you wallow in self-pity anymore. While unable to mend the wounds or erase the shadows, they clung to the hope that, with time, the echoes of laughter would return, and the vibrant hues of life would once again paint the canvas of your shared existence. But this could only begin when you allowed it.

So, they stormed into your room with all guns blazing. They flicked the lightswitch on, and made the loudest noises they could. “Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty!” They yelled, clapping their hands together. They watched you flinch at the sudden intrusion, covering your head with the blanket. That wouldn’t do.

Their hands gripped the bedsheet and pulled it off your body, nose twitching in disgust at the smell of your body-odour that wafted along with it. “Come on, stinky. Up! Up! Up!”

“I don’t want to.”

“Tough shit. I’m sick of you wallowing here and rotting away in your bed. You gotta get up, you gotta get moving. Sister Aisha’s made a pig’s ear of the organisation in the library, and you’re gonna have a fit when you see it. If I don’t get you down there now, then the entire place will be upside down and inside out by the time you get down there.”

“But-”

They grabbed hold of your wrist and pulled you off the bed. “Buts are for goats, my dear. Now, get your ass in the shower. You stink.”

You tried to protest further, but this earned you a push and a shove as they forced you into the bathroom. They turned the hot water on and made for the door. “I don’t want to have to strip you but I will - either that or you can shower in your pyjamas. I’m not asking you to leave the house right now, ___. I just want you to wash your goddamn hair.”

Sibling Riley went beyond the typical work/friend dynamic to offer support, realising the weight of emotional stress. They made the effort to clean your room so you could have a more peaceful and cozy environment.

Sibling Riley moved around the room gracefully, gathering stray objects and trash from wherever it had fallen. Everything was put away properly, and misplaced items were returned to their original locations. A small but meaningful gesture, cleaning was done to create an atmosphere that reflected a new and fresh start.

Once thick with the lingering odour of heartbreak, the air started to smell clean and well-maintained. Knowing that the outside world could affect one’s mental health, Sibling Riley worked to establish a foundation that allowed you to feel safe enough to begin healing - truly begin healing. No more wallowing in self pity, or snacks as dinner. Now you could return to the dining hall and eat good food with the other siblings. Was the food always healthy? Absolutely not. But recovery didn’t require healthy food - just the good shit.

The change became obvious as soon as you stepped into the bedroom. The bed, which had formerly represented shared moments and entwined destinies, was now a blank canvas representing revival. Sibling Riley had even gone as far as to change the linens, selecting a black forest set that they remembered you got so excited for. You almost cried, until Sibling Riley had raised their voice a little to snap you out of it.

“A fresh habit is on the bed. I’ll wait for you outside. Don’t dry your hair, leave that to me.”

“Riley, I-”

“___.” They raised their hand gently to stop you from talking, their voice now matching the action. “Call me when you’re dressed.”

You nodded and watched as they left the room.

The drop of Riley’s title didn’t register until they’d already left, but it made so much sense now. Riley was more than a coworker who you’d become friends with, they’d now become a friend who you worked with, and that realisation alone was enough to almost send you back over the edge and into a fit of tears. Snivelling, you began to dress in the clean habit Riley laid out for you, feeling more than grateful for them taking such good care of you when you needed it the most. Sister Aisha, too.

You started to feel more human when Riley walked back into the room. The more they brushed your hair, the more relaxed you began to feel. Their gentle fingertips over your scalp as they massaged in your favourite heat protector, the softness of the comb as it ran through your hair. You remembered the times when your caregiver would brush your hair as a child, and how rough they tended to be in order to get it done quickly - but not Riley. Riley took their time, as if each, slow and precise movement was bringing you back to life.

They played with your hair immaturely at times - of course they did. They did anything they could to have you crack a smile again, even if it meant tying your hair into a topknot do right at the tip of your scalp. “We’ll paint you green and put a TV on your tummy.” They teased.

Eventually, though, your hair was dry enough to be covered and Riley helped you with that, too, fastening your veil to your head and pinching your cheeks. “Right,” they said with a sigh, “let’s go get your library fixed.”

After the mental turmoil you went through, going back to the library felt both familiar and unsettling. The empty corridors that had once smelled of old books and faintly of study, seemed to be ridiculing the shattered remnants of your previous “relationship” with the Cardinal. Once a place of calm reflection and thought-provoking study, the library now held the broken shards of memories that were at once priceless and heartbreaking.

Your eyes couldn’t help but lock onto the snake behind the front desk, its eyes baring into your soul again, but this time making you shiver with a chill you couldn’t quite explain. It was like the statue was alive - like it was watching your every move and judging you for each step taken. It felt like it knew your thoughts, and only wanted to serve as a reminder to the last time you and the Cardinal were here together. Locking eyes with it had another flashback haunt you, his hands ghosting over your skin with a spectral grip so realistically, you could almost feel the long-since-healed bruises.

Your footsteps echoed throughout the library, producing a harsh song against the bookcases. You headed over to the desk that you always used, the one that had become an anchor in the whirling mass of books. The chair creaked as you settled in, greeting you with a solemn air fit for an old friend who had shared in the joy of discovery as well as the heartbreak’s agony.

The hush that had descended upon you like a thick shroud was broken by Sister Aisha’s approach. Her sympathetic eyes locked with yours. She was aware of the underlying pain that you were still feeling, no doubt being filled in briefly by Riley when you’d split off from him and gone back to your office, but there was a small piece of guilt within her. She hadn’t come to see you in a while - not that you’d held it against her. What, precisely, could she have done to make you feel better? To make you not hate yourself and the Cardinal the way that you did? There was nothing. It was somewhat of a miracle that Riley was able break whatever curse had fallen onto you.

“Welcome back, Sister,” Sister Aisha said softly, choosing her words with care. “I missed you.” Her bottom lip trembled as she said it - you’d never seen her cry before, and you weren’t sure you wanted that image in your head. She was always this strong rock that turned sadness into humour and cheered everyone up around her. It was easy to think that life didn’t bother her as much as it did everyone else. But in that moment, she suddenly became more human to you, and you were able to see that she was just as heartbroken for you as you were.

Without uttering another word, you wrapped your arms around her and pulled her in for a tight hug, feeling a lump form in your own throat at the feeling.

Sister Aisha returned the hug, her usually jovial demeanour dampened by the intensity of your feelings. The unsaid understanding that soaked into your relationship was a subtle recognition of the fragility that each Sibling in the Ministry carries beneath the surface. The embrace served as a shelter and a sanctuary where the barriers of stoicism fell away to show the true feelings that brought you together for that little moment.

The library seemed to soften as you grabbed onto each other, making a shared place of comfort among its maze-like aisles possible. A scene of comfort amidst the intellectual expanse was created by the hug’s warmth and the subtle scent of aged paper and ancient knowledge.

And with a swift goodbye from Sister Aisha, you got stuck in once more in translating the Chronicles…

Copia’s POV

Sister Evelyn Chandler possessed an ethereal beauty that captivated those fortunate enough to have laid eyes upon her. Her skin, rich and dark brown with a bronze undertone. She was more radiant than a smoky-quartz in the midday sun, exuding an angelic glow that captivated all those surrounding her.

Her eyes, the color of a morning cup of coffee, held a captivating depth. They were pools of clarity that seemed to have harbored the wisdom of ages, framed by long, dark lashes that cast subtle shadows upon her high cheekbones. Sister Evelyn’s gaze was both tender and commanding, a reflection of the myriad emotions that danced within her soul.

Cascading waves of black hair framed her face like a silken waterfall. The strands were lustrous, tightly curled and well-cared for falling gracefully to frame her delicate shoulders. Occasionally, she tucked a stray lock behind her ear, revealing the subtle glint of finely crafted, gold earrings that adorned her lobes.

Sister Evelyn’s lips bore a natural liner, inviting and delicate, forming a captivating contrast against her complexion. Her smile, when it graced her features, was a radiant expression that lit up the room, captivating all who had the privilege of witnessing it.

Tall and gracefully poised, Sister Evelyn Chandler moved with a dignified elegance. Her habit, a seamless extension of her being, draped around her figure in a manner that spoke of both modesty and timeless grace. There was an undeniable allure in the way she carried herself, a quiet strength and confidence that marked her as a woman of substance.

In the presence of Sister Evelyn Chandler, one couldn’t help but feel the gentle pull of her captivating charm, an enchantment woven from both her external grace and the inner luminosity that defined her spirit.

Copia didn’t know why he was letting her sit on his lap like this, why his lips were dancing against hers as deftly as they were, why his hands were defying him and pulling her closer against his body. He didn’t understand why his body had reacted to her when all he wanted - all he ever wanted - was you. He’d tried to push her off, which is why his hands were on her hips in the first place. But she smelled like you, felt kind of like you beneath his fingertips, and if he closed his eyes, he could pretend she was you.

It wasn’t until another sound registered in his ears that he’d realised what was going on. It wasn’t until he saw your body in the doorway, he realised that it wasn’t you on his lap, captivating him in such a way. It wasn’t until he saw the look of hurt on your face, he truly understood the gravity of what he’d allowed.

You, wonderful you, intelligent you, beautiful you, now running from him with tears in your eyes and a heart breaking louder than any car crash he’d ever heard. He couldn’t reach you in time, despite the quickness in which he’d thrown the unsuspecting Sister off of his lap in order to get to you and explain just what the hell you’d seen, but by the time he’d reached and opened the door again, you had vanished out of sight.

Copia’s heart sank as he stood in the doorway, paralyzed by the realization of the damage he had caused. The echoing emptiness of the hallway mirrored the void now expanding within him. Panic and regret clawed at his insides, the gravity of the situation settling heavily on his conscience.

He stumbled forward, calling your name desperately, but his voice sounded feeble against the silence that enveloped the corridor. The haunting image of your retreating figure, tears glistening in your eyes, replayed in his mind, each step you took away from him echoing like a thunderous accusation.

The air felt heavy, suffocating, as Copia’s mind raced with the implications of what had just occurred. He never meant for this to happen. The Sister’s presence, her proximity, had been an innocent mistake, a fleeting distraction he never intended to indulge. Yet, here he was, standing in a doorway, watching you disappear, and it felt like the world was crumbling around him.

Copia’s breaths came in ragged gasps as he clutched at his chest, aching with the weight of regret. The realization that he had shattered the fragile connection he had forged with you, the trust he had meticulously built, overwhelmed him. He sank to his knees in the dimly lit corridor, a broken man.

The anguished silence of the hallway seemed to mock him, reflecting the hollowness echoing in his soul. Copia’s mind raced with scenarios of what he could have said or done differently. The profound emptiness he felt was punctuated by the knowledge that he had hurt you, possibly irreparably.

“That was her, then?” Sister Evelyn asked, crouching next to Copia and putting her arm around him.

He nodded in response, looking to pathetic beside her.

“And given her reaction, you didn’t tell her.”

He shook his head. “I wanted to - there was never a right moment. I didn’t mean to-”

She rubbed his back. “I know, Cardinal. I know.” Cardinal. Not ‘Your Dark Eminence’, not ‘Your Unholiness’. Cardinal. Already she treated herself like she was closer to equality beside him than any other Sibling of Sin in the Ministry.

“Why did you have to do that?”

“Because it’s about time you started seeing me as your Prime Mover, Cardinal. This has been arranged for decades and you hardly even acknowledge me. I almost had you.”

“I couldn’t give less of a shit about some prophecy, Eve. You know that.”

“And yet,” she stood, “here I am, ready and waiting for the ritual. Get your shit together, Copia. I won’t wait forever.”

Sister Evelyn walked away, leaving Copia on the corridor floor completely alone. “I don’t want you to wait.” Copia whispered to the empty air, cursing his cowardice. “I don’t want you at all.”

The library, which had once been a haven of whispered confessions and shared secrets, now loomed as a maze of echoing shadows. The sacred quiet that had welcomed your partnership suddenly seemed like a crushing burden on Copia’s back. With every stride he took through the labyrinth of shelves, his inner struggle was echoed hesitantly. The smell of old books, which had previously been reassuring, now had a regretful aftertaste. Copia looked in every direction, into every quiet alcove, hoping to see anything, anything, of you, but the library was empty. Every beat of his heart echoed through the ancient halls of knowledge, pounding in his chest like a drum. His every stride is now shadowed by the memories of the last time he was in there, with you wrapped in his arms and the warmth of shared laughter.

In a whisper, he called your name, a cry that echoed through the stillness. The academics and librarians who had previously shown no interest in the secret meetings held inside their revered premises were now watching him with curious eyes. They saw a Cardinal devoid of his customary composure and troubled by the memory of a love lost. Copia was clearly suffering as he walked through the steps of your daily routine towards your office. It felt stale and lonely, the once bright electricity in the air now gone. The very spirit of the library seemed to lament the loss of a relationship that had once thrived inside its walls.

Copia’s speed quickened as he made his way through the maze-like aisles, his search growing more urgent. His cries became more intense and louder, resonating through the silent cathedral of books. However, you did not respond or show up.

The force with which the door flung open matched the turmoil in Copia’s heart. “___!” His words echoed like a frantic plea off the walls, resonating around the room. However, the office was now a mute reminder of your absence.

The soft light created an eerie radiance on the empty desk, reflecting the emptiness within Copia’s chest. The documents you had so carefully arranged were still in place, unaffected by the person who had breathed new life into the room. The smell of old parchment lingered, a painful reminder of the times you had spent together, when there had been laughter and passion, but now there was just a sombre silence.

Copia’s gaze swept throughout the entire area, looking for any indication of your existence. It seemed as though the walls were closing in on him, making the room feel cramped and oppressive. With his regular trappings stripped off, he walked out of the room, showing weakness beneath the weight of his title.

As Copia got closer to the desk, the atmosphere in the library changed, a tension that lingered silently between the old bookshelves. With a look of fury and cold that reflected the storm building within of her, Sister Aisha Banerjee looked up. Copia now had to deal with the consequences of his actions. Sister Banerjee looked directly at him, silently accusing him in a way that echoed throughout the calm library. The murmur of books seemed to stifle with expectation, as though the walls themselves were listening in on the drama that was playing out.

“Sister Banerjee,” Copia began, his voice carrying a note of urgency, “I need to find ___. Have you seen her?”

Sister Banerjee, who was usually quite amiable, responded to his questioning with a chilly silence. Her eyes reflected the storm of emotions roiling inside. She got up from her chair, her actions slow and deliberate, a sharp contrast to the turmoil that was developing in Copia’s mind. “Like I’d tell you. What did you think you were doing?” Sister Banerjee’s words were laced with a biting coldness, the hurt and anger seeping through each syllable.

Copia’s eyes widened with realization, the weight of his actions crashing down upon him like a cascade of unforgiving stones. “No, Sister Banerjee, you don’t understand. It wasn’t what it looked like. I never meant to hurt her.”

“You should have thought about that before you let someone else into your bed, into your life. She’s not just anyone. She’s ___. She cared about you.”

The truth of Sister Banerjee’s words broke through Copia’s layers of denial, causing his heart to sink. Not only had he broken the link that had grown between you, but he had also lost you, leaving an emptiness in its wake.

Sister Banerjee turned away, and the hush descended again, leaving Copia standing in the great space of the library in silence, like a cardinal without his compass. She waited until he turned to leave the library before she spoke one final time. “You don’t deserve her, I think. She’s far too good for you.”

Copia froze in his tracks, Sister Banerjee’s words hanging in the air like a heavy verdict. The weight of her judgment bore down on him, a burden he had no choice but to carry. Slowly, he turned back to face her, a mixture of desperation and remorse etched on his features.

“I know,” he admitted, his voice a mere whisper, the echo of a cardinal laid bare. “I know I messed up. I never meant to hurt her. She means everything to me.”

Sister Banerjee’s expression remained stern, a blend of disappointment and sympathy in her gaze. “Words are easy, Your Dark Eminence. It’s actions that define us. She’s not a pawn in your games, and if you truly care about her, you’ll find a way to fix this mess you’ve made.”

Sister Imperator would allow him to do no such thing.

Standing before Sister Imperator’s office, Copia hesitated, a weight of doubt crushing down on him. The door squeaked open, and he stepped inside, his eyes locking with the dark woman behind the desk.

“Sister Imperator,” Copia began, his voice carrying a plea laced with desperation. “I need to know where she is. I need to find her and explain.”

Sister Imperator regarded him with a measured silence, her eyes penetrating into the depths of his troubled soul. The air in the room hung heavy with unspoken tension, and Copia’s heart raced with the anticipation of her response.

“You want answers, but answers are not always what you need, Cardinal,” Sister Imperator responded with a foreboding tone. “The prophecy grows, and you have to concentrate on the path laid before you.”

Copia’s frustration simmered beneath the surface as he struggled against the constraints of the prophecy. “Sister, please. I can’t bear not knowing where she is. I need to make things right.”

With a faint smile on her lips, Sister Imperator reclined on her chair. “Cardinal, making things right is arbitrary. Think about the repercussions if you don’t walk the path you were destined for.”

Copia clenched his fists, torn between the desire to defy fate and the duty he owed to the Ministry. “Sister, I can’t lose her. She’s…”

Sister Imperator interrupted, her tone unwavering. “The prophecy is greater than individual desires. Sister Evelyn plays a crucial role, and you can’t let personal attachments cloud your judgment.”

Copia felt a surge of frustration and helplessness. “What about us? What about what we feel?”

“Sacrifices are demanded by fate. Find comfort in your duty, Cardinal. The Prophecy awaits, and you have to focus on Sister Evelyn now - your Prime Mover.”

“She’s not my Prime Mover yet.”

“No but she will be on the next full moon.”

“Not if I step down as Head of the Church.”

Sister Imperator’s eyes narrowed, her gaze piercing through Copia. “Do you truly believe abandoning your post will change your fate? The Prophecy is not swayed by your whims. You are the appointed leader of the Church, chosen by Satan Himself. You’re His son, here to do His bidding! To defy that destiny would be to court chaos and go up against the Dark One. After everything we’ve done to get you to this position, and this is how you want to thank me?”

Copia gritted his teeth, torn between the weight of his duty and the ache in his heart. “I won’t let Sister Evelyn become a pawn in this game. I won’t let the connection Sister ____ and I have be sacrificed for some cosmic plan.”

Sister Imperator’s anger flared, her tone sharp and authoritative. “You will not step down, Copia. Your role is crucial, and the Church cannot afford such disruptions. Sister Evelyn is part of the grand design, and so are you. Embrace your destiny, and in doing so, you honor the Church and its purpose.”

Copia’s shoulders slumped, defeated by the inevitability of the situation. He had no choice but to submit to the forces that bound him. “What about ___’s feelings? What about what we had?”

Sister Imperator’s expression remained unyielding. “Feelings are secondary to the greater purpose. Your personal desires must be set aside for the sake of the Church. It is a burden you must bear. Now,” she continued, letting out a calming breath and returning to her usual calm demeanour, “don’t you have Mass to plan for? Perhaps Sister Evelyn could help you announce to the Clergy your future plans.”

“But-”

“Off you go.”

Copia felt guiltier than ever as he left Sister Imperator’s office. The upcoming marriage to Sister Evelyn hovered over him like an omen, overshadowing the love he once imagined could defy fate.

He felt the weight of his choices like a vice as he meandered through the Ministry’s dimly lit hallways. His thoughts were filled with the echoes of Sister Imperator’s remarks, and he couldn’t get rid of the picture of your wounded look when you saw him and Sister Evelyn. He was disturbed by the pain engraved onto your features and by the resonance of your name. He looked for comfort in the shadows of the Ministry, but there was none. Just his stupidity and his fate that had ruined everything.

He had spent weeks without you - not hearing a peep from you, never entering the library in fear he would see you and that hurt look on your face. He stopped asking after you eventually, knowing that it would end up doing more hurt than good for his own mental health more so than yours, as selfish as it sounded. He couldn’t bear the thought of you moving on with someone else after everything he’d felt - and he thought you’d felt it, too. He couldn’t imagine what you’d feel if you saw him again with Sister Evelyn. How would you feel if you saw them together? Would you care? Would you be over it, over him? Would you pretend to not see him? He knew you were back at work now, given that Sister Imperator would send a Ghoul to relay any important translations you’d done. He’d assumed that was your decision - that it would be easier for you to create a middle man in order to never have to see him again.

Copia decided this week’s mass would be about loss and the grief that surrounded relationships that had died, and how you could turn to loved ones, or even Satan for comfort.

With his ceremonial robes draped over his shoulders like a thick shield, Copia stood at the pulpit. The anxiety that filled the Basilica was palpable, an unsaid weight that enveloped the assembly in a dense mist. There was an uneasy calm in place of the usual Monday Mass atmosphere of reverence and expectancy.

The Basilica’s elaborate walls were illuminated with shimmering shadows created by the wildly flickering candles that lined the aisles. The gloomy atmosphere and the seriousness of the choices that had been made in the weeks before seemed to be emphasised by the dull light.

With their eyes concentrated on the Cardinal at the pulpit, the devout were crammed into the pews. Ghouls and Siblings alike made up the eclectic congregation, but they were all devoted to the Church’s doctrines. Normally ringing with authority and conviction, Copia’s voice held a strain as he led the assembly in prayer. The unholy words that had seemed to have a purpose before now echoed with a strange turmoil. The recent decisions he had made weighed heavily on him, undermining the sacred ceremonies.

The perfume of incense filled the Basilica as it floated through, swirling and twisting in the shadows. Originally a sign of sin, the scent now carried a hint of unhappiness. The general unease that saturated the worshippers’ hearts seemed to have been absorbed by the very spirit of the unhallowed sanctuary.

Copia looked out over the assembly as he raised the sacramental chalice. A sea of faces, some displaying unshakeable faith and others displaying uncertainty and curiosity. The knowledge that his actions had shattered the oneness that had once united them was something he was unable to ignore. Everyone had learned of what happened by this point. Everyone heard the whispers of drama echoing off the Ministry’s walls. Everyone cared enough to talk about it, but no one seemed disappointed in him. They should be, Copia thought.

You sat in a lonely corner of the pew among the devoted worshippers, your presence like a still shadow in the dimly illuminated Basilica. Copia looked at you out of the crowd as he talked passionately from the pulpit. The world seemed to stop for a split second as his gaze lingered on your shape, his mouth running dry and the words following suit.

A painful hush descended on the area between you and the Cardinal, the words of his sermon hanging in the air like an ominous melody. For the tiniest of moments, Copia’s countenance wavered between sadness and surprise. It had not occurred to him that you would be here, a sobering reminder of the broken bond.

When your gaze met his, a wide range of emotions flashed across your faces in that tense instant. Like an unheard confession, the pain of unsaid words, a weight of unresolved emotions, and the real tension of a shared past hung between you. Copia stammered to keep his sermon composed, his voice wavering briefly as the realisation of how serious the situation was dawned on him.

The congregation was unaware of your presence, especially since they were unaware of this Sibling’s identity whose heart was broken by the bumbling idiot in front of them. For Copia, though, it seemed as though the Basilica itself had shrunk to concentrate only on the ache in your eyes.

Every now and then, Copia’s eyes would return to you as he finished his sermon, each snatched glimpse bearing a heavy weight of regret. His words of wisdom seemed to resound with an imploring undertone, a last-ditch effort to close the distance that had opened up between you. The melancholy of the situation was emphasised by the haunting melody of the organ, which accentuated the poignant atmosphere.

The Basilica’s calm exterior disguised the chaos inside. A story of love and separation that played out silently in the midst of unholy rituals was carried by every word spoken and every look shared. Copia’s eyes followed you as the assembly stood for the Gratiarum, a mute acknowledgement of the pain that lingered in the sacred space between the pulpit and the pews.

Copia could barely contain himself and concentrate on the remainder of the congregation when he saw you join the queue. With each blessing he gave, he knew there was something wrong with it, but he couldn’t help himself. His eyes wandered over to your frame when you were in direct eyeline. He watched as you tried to not look at him, sparing him an accidental glance every now and then but ultimately fighting with yourself to just pretend that nothing was wrong. The butterflies in his stomach wouldn’t settle, doing the most in his gut and making it difficult for him to function as usual.

You kissed Lilith’s statue with the same gentle movements you used to kiss him. Then you turned, eyes planted to the ground and took a step towards him.

Another step.

And another.

Closer…

Suddenly you were right in front of him, your eyes focussed on the floor and your hands clasped politely in front of your stomach. You didn’t want to look at him, and he certainly couldn’t blame you for it. You looked so shy again. He hadn’t realised just how much you’d come out of your shell since you’d spent all that time with him, and now you were back in it, no doubt afraid to have your heart broken again. Again, he understood, even though the action was killing him with each second that passed. His heart raced in his chest as he looked you over and without thinking, uttered, “Ciao.”

That was the first time you looked at him since the sermon, properly looked at him. And there was no mistaking the hurt in your eyes. In that moment, he realised you probably thought he was making fun of you. “Sorella, I-”

“May I be excused, Your Dark Eminence?”

No, you may not! He wanted to scream. He wanted to grab you by the arms and shake you, steal you, and lock you in a room with him to give him the chance to explain just what was going on. The drop of his given name also felt like a punch to the gut. The last time you talked to him, it was when his tongue was between your folds and his name was spilling from your lips. Now, you were trying your hardest not to cry in front of everyone. So no, you couldn’t be excused! How dare you even entertain the thought? “Please allow me a moment to explain, Sorella.”

You turned to walk away, but he grabbed your arm.

“Wait for me, in the pews. Please.”

You didn’t answer, or even acknowledge his request, but he watched as you left and went and sat at the back of the Basilica. Relief washed over him as he realised you were giving him a chance. One final chance to make everything right. He turned to look at Cumulus, and asked her to sit with you while you waited. “Make conversation,” he ordered, “I don’t care. Just keep her there. If anyone tries to override this, don’t listen to them. Understand?” He wasn’t ashamed to admit that he rushed through the rest of the congregation, eager to rush to you before you changed your mind.

Of course, Sister Imperator had clocked what was happening and tried to get you to leave, but Cumulus stood her ground. Clearly she was the right Ghoulette for the task. When he was finished, he awkwardly ran to you, his legs resembling an ostrich the way he threw himself up the aisle and toward you. He loved you - he was in love with you. And to hell with the prophecy if it meant he could have you.

“Thank you for waiting,” he began, a little out of breath from the exertion.

You stood and bowed a little, formally greeting the head. “Your Dark Eminence.”

“Please call me Copia.” He sounded much sadder than he intended to.

“I can’t.”

Cumulus cleared her throat beside you both, drawing the attention to her.

Copia nodded. “Right, right. Thank you, Ghoulette. You may leave.” When you were semi-alone, Copia continued. “I wanted to explain myself - tell you about what you saw.”

“Forgive me, Your Dark Eminence, but I don’t want the gory details.”

“No, no. Please just let me explain. It wasn’t what you think - well, it was, but it wasn’t. Sister Evelyn is supposed to be my Prime Mover. There’s been a prophecy for a few hundred years… something about the antichrist only producing offspring with a person who has three sixes in their birth date. It’s ridiculous, I know, but Sister Imperator is adamant it is Sister Evelyn. She’s also adamant that I am the antichrist but, again, I don’t believe her.

“Comunque, I was never meant to see anyone else… I was never meant to fall in love with anyone. But then you come along with your intelligence and your sweetness and become so irresistible that I can’t help but… fall in love… with you.”

He watched your face anxiously, waiting for something that would help relieve the tension in his stomach. But you remained deadpanned, hidden from his gaze.

You started to speak, choosing your words carefully. “If this is how you show love, Your Dark Eminence, then I’d rather not be loved by you at all.”

“Sorella?”

“Why didn’t you say anything? Why did you let her… in your office… why?”

“I…” he paused, thinking about what he should say next. “Per cominciare, I don’t believe in the prophecy anyway, so it seemed irrelevant at the time. I didn’t intend on choosing Sister Evelyn anyway so I didn’t tell you because it just didn’t matter to me. But also… in my office… I did try to push her off me, really I did. I so desperately want you to believe me. I didn’t try hard enough, and I wasn’t strong enough. And I couldn’t be sorrier for it. If you’ll let me, I’ll spend every day for the rest of my life making it up to you. Whatever you need to trust me again, I’ll do it. I love you, ___.”

You stood there for a moment, a little dumbfounded. You were trying to think of something to say, some way to answer him the way you wanted to.

However, the words stuck in your throat, causing an explosion of feelings to pass through you, including hurt, rage, confusion and the last traces of love. Copia’s fervent request lingered in the atmosphere, weighted with sincerity, but your emotions stayed guarded, hurt by the latest discovery. “I can’t just forget everything, Copia,” you finally spoke, your voice a delicate whisper. “I saw what I saw, and it hurt. It hurt a lot.”

Copia’s eyes pleaded with yours, a look of profound regret on his face. He made a hesitant move to close the emotional gap that had formed between you, but you pulled away, keeping a precarious distance. “I love you, ___,” he repeated, the sincerity in his voice echoing through the sacred space of the Basilica.

Closing your eyes briefly, you took a steadying breath. “Love is supposed to be about trust, isn’t it? And I… I just don’t know if I can trust you after what happened.”

His shoulders slumped, a profound sadness settling upon him. “I understand. I’ll do anything to earn back your trust. Just give me a chance, please.”

A heavy silence hung in the air as you grappled with the conflicting emotions within. The sacred surroundings of the Basilica seemed to amplify the weight of the moment, the echoes of your shared history and fractured trust resonating within its hallowed walls.

“I need time, Copia,” you finally admitted, your gaze meeting his. “Time to process, to heal. I can’t promise anything right now.”

Copia nodded, a mix of acceptance and determination in his eyes. “I’ll wait. For as long as it takes. Please just remember that I never meant to hurt you… no matter what anyone says.”

With his mistakes weighing heavily on him, Copia stood there in the dimly lighted Basilica. The lingering smell of incense filled the air, and the elaborate decorations were softly lit by candlelight, creating shadows. A knot clenched in his chest as he watched you walk away, each step bringing you further away from him. Copia became overcome with a deep sense of loss as the heavy door creaked shut behind you. His heart was hollow and empty, and the Basilica, which had previously been a place of devotion and peace, now rang with that. There was a deafening quiet after he had bared his soul and exposed his feelings.

The cold stone under him was a sharp contrast to the warmth that had once filled his heart as he fell to his knees. His gaze remained fixated on the path you had followed, which appeared to extend into an unclear and lonely future. His fingers trembled as he struggled with the regret and shame that were threatening to overwhelm him.

“I’ve lost her,” he muttered to the hallowed area surrounding him, the declaration more of a regret than an assertion. His own remarks seemed to mock him as they echoed off the Basilica’s great vaulted ceilings.

His eyes began to brim up with tears, but he forced them back. The weight of his cardinal robes felt like an anchor, keeping him grounded in a world where love had managed to evade him. His hands balled into fists, anguish and annoyance blending into a soundless orchestra of loss. Copia sensed the loneliness of the Basilica drawing closer to him in the dim light. Kneeling there, a broken man in a spot that had seen the highs and lows of his trip, he couldn’t fathom a life without you, without the warmth of your presence, without the hope that love had once kindled within him.

The compassionate Ghoul, Cirrus, had a great deal of empathy for their leader. She took a step forward without saying anything, her quiet comprehension echoing in her footsteps. The other Ghouls exchanged a look, not knowing how to step in or offer comfort at such a gravely vulnerable moment.

In a show of solidarity and support, Cirrus knelt next to the Cardinal. As Cirrus approached, her hand settled softly on Copia’s shoulder, her wordless presence speaking loudly. The touch, which went beyond the formality of their jobs, was a lifeline amid the sea of grief.

The other Ghouls remained a few steps back, unsure how much to get involved in Copia’s privacy and how much they could help. Worried emotions could be seen on their masked features as each Ghoul struggled with the emotional upheaval that had befallen their leader.

Cirrus stuck by Copia’s side. She didn’t try to make light of the situation or try to make it seem less painful. Rather, her presence was evidence of the unsaid connection that bound them together—a connection made in the furnace of similar experiences, both happy and sad.

“She’ll be back with good news, Cardinal.” Cirrus said. “I saw the way she looked at you.”

Copia, still processing what had happened, glanced up at Cirrus, uncertainty and hope mixed together in his eyes. His face was shadowed by the Basilica’s low light, highlighting the lines of exhaustion in his features. “You really think so?” Copia’s voice carried a vulnerability that contrasted sharply with his usual authoritative tone.

Cirrus nodded, offering a reassuring smile beneath her Ghoul mask. “I’ve seen a lot of love in my day, and the one between you and Sister ___ is far from over. She’ll return.”

Copia let out a heavy sigh, a mixture of relief and uncertainty. “I just… I can’t bear the thought of losing her. She means everything to me.”

Cirrus squeezed Copia’s shoulder gently. “‘Love will out’ as they say, even in the face of trials. Trust in the connection you share, Cardinal. It’s stronger than you realize.”

Previous Part ⛧ Next Part

Commissions are open! ⛧ Memberships ⛧ Tip Jar

91 notes · View notes