#all about what is going on. it’s an imperative part of the process

[fingertipsmp3]

I’ll be like “I should go to sleep” and then 10 minutes later I’m looking up a friend of a friend and discovering that he lost a court case and also is now a member of the electoral college?? Apparently???

[libraford]

I have a lot to say about the decision our BOE made about Lifewise, but I'm going to go over the useful information here first and then the shitshow in a later reblog.

Last night, the board of education in my city decided to rescind allowance of Lifewise in our public schools.

Lifewise is a non denominational Christian youth group that operates during school hours, and only during school hours. Their mission is to bring Jesus to public schools, and they are able to do this legally because the education happens off-campus. They typically do this during lunch, recess, or electives. The program is voluntary.

They were allowed in our school system through a former board member, two years ago. The program has come under some scrutiny, which I will cover in a reblog. So the topic of rescinding their decision came up this year.

This was a huge debate. I will get into it later.

But I wanted to state the reasons why our board chose to rescind the decision and end business with LifeWise, so that if they (or others of this type) come to your school system and you don't want them there, you have a model for what has worked in debate.

1. An important aspect of the decision to rescind this particular decision does not restrict religious learning before or after school, or on weekends- and only applies to religious programs during school hours.

2. Unlike accommodations made for Ramadan (an example that was brought up in debate), LifeWise is not a core observance of religion.

3. The social times of school, such as lunch or recess, are just as much part of the learning process as structured class time. Play is imperative for a growing mind, and playing with kids from other religious backgrounds is especially important.

4. While Lifewise supplies their own buses to and from locations, transition times in schools (getting children to and from lunch, recess, bathrooms, electives) are some of the most stressful times for teachers. Adding another, for which only some of the students are part of, is a strain on resources.

5. Entrusting your students to a third party who has not been vetted by the schools is an intense liability. Not just the obvious danger of a dangerous person, but- are the trained in first aid? What do they know about seizures, autism, allergies, diabetes...what are their policies on conflict resolution... there are a lot of variables to think of when you leave your students in someone else's care, even for just an hour.

That's all the notes I have for that meeting. If one of these programs is courting your school board, it's probably a good idea to have these points in mind now, rather than later.

I'll talk about the rest later.

[mypoisonedvine]

𝔞𝔯𝔯𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔪𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔰 (part I) | frater imperator x reader

𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶 | when the newly-appointed head of the clergy decides (or, has it decided for him) that it is time to marry, he neither has time for nor has to worry about the stress of dating... he can just take his pick.

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱 | 5.2k

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 | for the series overall: smut (18+ only!!), arranged marriage, extreme religious themes, shy!reader, and lots of pining/slow-ish burn. for this chapter: mention of death and mostly just reader having anxiety... and a hint of my glove kink coming through but that's neither here nor there

this is probably not worth saying when it's already in the title but uh, rite here rite now spoilers. so sorry but it's literally what the fic is based on so I couldn't help it.

Frater Imperator… Frater Imperator…

He couldn’t quite wrap his head around the title, still.  It was a shock already when he first read the letter from his mother— on top of the shock of losing her, which was more than enough— but it still hadn’t quite sunk in.

He was so shocked by the promotion, in fact, that he’d been entirely unable to process the paragraph afterwards:

And please, do as I’ve been asking for quite some time and finally take a wife.  Or husband!  I’m not picky.  But you need someone beside you to keep things in order and keep you in line.

Yes, Copia’s mother had been encouraging him towards marriage for quite some time, even before he knew she was his mother; in some ways, it made more sense once that element came to light, though it did change the tone of her request quite a lot.  It also made him take it much more seriously.

And now, it could be argued that this was basically her dying wish.  He really had no other choice: he couldn’t put off a marriage any longer.

See, he’d never had a problem with the idea of it— he’d always imagined getting married some day, like most people seem to— but he wasn’t the luckiest in love.  A broken heart or two (or five) had convinced him to focus more on his work with the church, and to be fair, no one could deny that the work had paid off.  But, as they say, it gets lonely at the top: and now, he was the leader of the whole church, and he had no prospects or even romantic interests to speak of.

Fortunately, he had realized that because he was the leader, he didn’t need all that: all he had to do was say the word.

~

The announcement spread through the congregation like wildfire: the newly-minted Frater Imperator was going to get married.  The part they neglected to mention— and the part everyone wanted to know the most— was to whom.

There were already plenty of rumors, which you avoided because you felt they were all baseless.  Even within one day you’d heard three different stories about this mysterious future spouse, each more preposterous than the last: that he had a secret lover in the ministry he would wed, that he met a fan at a ritual and swept her off her feet, and that he had some previously unmentioned long-term girlfriend who wasn’t even in the church.

The wedding was less than a week away and all anyone knew was that everyone would be there.

Unfortunately, it was hard to ignore the gossip, even if you weren’t participating in it.  The night when it all began, you were trying to read while several of the other Sisters were giggling amongst themselves over their various theories.  “I wasn’t sure he’d ever marry,” someone admitted, “even though he could probably have anyone he wanted.”

“Not me,” one Sister announced smugly, “I never thought he was all that good-looking.”

“Oh please,” another scoffed incredulously, “you’d be on your knees in a second if you saw him at a ritual.”

“Besides, his looks aren’t the most important thing: this is the head of the clergy.  Whoever he marries is probably going to be spoiled rotten!”

They laughed excitedly, and though you’d been trying to tune it out, you couldn’t help but wonder about it as well.  The announcement had left so much unanswered, but the timing of it seemed too important to ignore.  Perhaps the clergy had forbidden the Papa to marry— you weren’t aware of any rule against it, since to your knowledge none of them had ever tried— and so he’d had to wait until his time was complete to be with the person he loved.  Perhaps it was the death of his mother that triggered it: at best, a renewed desire to find happiness and family when faced with a reminder of mortality; at worst, his mother hadn’t approved of his lover and only now was his final obstacle removed.

Ironically, after all those times you failed to ignore them before, it took the other Sisters several attempts to tear you out of your train of thought now: you blinked quickly and looked up from your book as you realized they were saying your name to get your attention.

“Hm?” you mumbled hazily when you looked at them.

“A message for you,” Sister Agnes informed you, leaning over to hand you a rolled parchment.  You weren’t sure if it was private or not, but everyone was staring at you in anticipation— in fact, you noticed then that their entire conversation had died down to silence— and so you awkwardly unrolled it and read the writing inside.

MESSAGE FROM THE CLERGY:

Frater Imperator and the clergy request your presence in the upper sanctum imminently.

~

As soon as you descended the stairway back to the mail halls of the abbey, a gaggle of Sisters descended on you, wide-eyed and desperate for gossip.  “So?!” Sister Lilith asked expectantly, like the rest of her question should be obvious. “What was it about?”

“Was the whole clergy there?”

“U-uhm, all but Frater,” you replied shyly.

“What did they say?”

“Don’t be silly, ladies,” Sister Agnes scoffed, “it was obviously about the wedding.  What else would there be meetings about today?  They must want her to help in some way: communion, maybe?”

“Ooh!  A bridesmaid!” another in the group suggested excitedly.  “Do you know who he’s marrying?”

“Of course she knows!” someone answered for you.  “Who is it?  I was right, wasn’t I— it’s someone in the church!”

“Well… yes, I know who it is,” you mumbled, “but I… I’m not sure I’m permitted to speak on it.”

That was a lie, but you were too busy trying to process it all yourself to share it with anyone.

“Just tell us,” they begged.  “You won’t get in trouble!”

“The wedding’s only a few days away,” Sister Lilith pointed out, “so there’s no point in it being a secret now— and if I’m right about who it is, Sister Magdalena owes me a fifty.”

“I’m sure you didn’t guess it,” you promised her.

But the questions just kept coming: “It is a woman, though, right?” “Is it someone you know?  Wait, is it someone we know?” “

You realized that if you didn’t tell them now, they would either figure it out soon or be entirely blindsided at the ceremony.  Not to mention that if you refused to answer their questions, they’d just keep grilling you until they got something.  Your voice was actually quite feeble in that moment, not loud or strong enough to cut through all that chatter— but your words were enough to stop every question being thrown at you in its tracks.

“It’s me.”

You waited for them to react, but for a moment, they didn’t.

“I was asked to— to take the position,” you specified, putting it as vaguely as possible.  I’m going to marry Frater Imperator was just as true but was just as hard to say as it was to wrap your head around.

They erupted into a variety of reactions, all of which at least had some element of shock involved.  “I had no idea you were so close!” Sister Agnes exclaimed.

“We’ve… never even spoken…” you shyly replied, and the excitement quickly died down.  You weren't offended by their quizzical stares; if anything, it was a relief to see some of them looking as confused as you felt.

Why did he choose her? you caught a few whispers in the back of the group.  They're strangers? What makes her so special, then?

You wish you knew the answers to those questions.

That night as you laid in bed, you couldn’t do anything but replay the clergy meeting in your mind.  You’d felt so small across the table from all of them; you had no idea air could feel so heavy and stiff, matching the tense energy as you waited for them to explain why you’d been summoned.  As it all happened, you thought you would never forget every detail— but already you were losing your memory of what was said in what order, when exactly you realized you weren’t in trouble, how long it took you to believe what you were hearing.

Should we not court first?  Or have a meeting, maybe? You had suggested.  Frater does not feel it is necessary, a clergyman firmly replied.

And he’s not here now, because… you trailed off.

We all feel you should make this decision privately— in case his presence would sway you one way or another, a high Sister answered.

You could see the logic in that, and appreciated the concern for your uncoerced consent… except, of course, that this was an offer already impossible to say no to.  They’d successfully convinced you that you wouldn't be punished for turning down the proposal, but the marriage itself had already been announced: if you rejected the offer, someone else would surely take your place.  And for some reason, though the idea of going through with this terrified you, passing it up sounded even worse.  Even just imagining another woman taking her place at his side… why did it bother you so much? 

Because you will take your husband's title, but will not have decision-making power over the clergy, your title from henceforth shall be Sister Imperator Consortia.

It had a ring to it, but it didn’t feel like you— at least not yet.  It felt too… formal, too important.  Generally, people don’t join a convent and put on a habit because they’re intent on standing out, Satanic or not.

You told yourself that you needed to rest while you could, you had a busy week ahead starting with a dress fitting first thing tomorrow.  But still, you hardly got a moment of sleep that first night; part of you thought if you shut your eyes long enough, you would wake up to learn this had all been some bizarre dream.

You couldn’t decide, though, if you’d be relieved or heartbroken if you awoke.

~

In some ways, the wedding mass was quite similar to how you’d always pictured yours would be… except for the attendance.  You were sure you’d never met this many people in your life!  Even tonight, you wouldn’t be able to meet them all!

But, of course, this was the social event of the year, if not decade, for any church member or Satanist: it only made sense that there were throngs of people not only in the church but outside, waiting to see the new couple.

As you looked at yourself in the mirror, face obscured by the black veil, your eyes widened with the thought that you might be basically the Kate Middleton of Satanism in this moment…

Trading your opaque veil for one of lace, your loose and simple dress for a form-fitting and extravagant one made of dark red silk and sporting an over-the-top train, you wondered if you were going to be swallowed up by all this overwhelming intricacy, all this… pomp.

Taking a shaky breath, you tried not to imagine that everyone else watching you walk down the aisle would agree with you that you were horribly out of place.  You wished you’d had a chance to understand why you were chosen— to even just meet the high Frater, but the clergy had insisted several times that he was too busy with his new duties and planning the wedding.  Yes, your fiance was too busy planning your wedding to speak to you.  It was all horrifically ironic, and irritating.  So, as you turned and stepped out of the bridal suite, taking your bouquet of Dahlias from one of the Sisters assisting you, you thought to yourself if nothing else, at least I’ll get to finally try to understand all this by the end of the night.

The doors to the main hall opened for you, and there was no turning back.

It was a massive room, with easily a thousand people between you and the altar, but the very first thing your eyes fell on was Copia all the way at the other end of the aisle: the all black suit was no surprise, yet even from so far his white eye stood out prominently, and it was fixed on you.

Walking down the aisle took quite some time— you’d been reminded to take slow steps, as if you were just going to break into a sprint or something.  You tried to keep your eyes ahead, and ignore all the eyes on you: people seated on the furthest ends of the pews leaned and stood on their tiptoes to try to get a glimpse, but between all the encouraging smiles you caught an occasional glare of disapproval… it seemed plenty of your siblings were jealous of or disappointed by you one way or another.

Adjusting your clammy hands slightly, you realized you were unintentionally holding a concerningly tight grip on the Dahlia stems and the ribbon they were wrapped with; that said, you were very thankful for something you do with your hands.

Your heart was pounding by the time you reached the front of the hall, where the priest, the clergy, and your betrothed waited for you at the altar.  A Sister took your bouquet away to free your hands just as you passed the front row, and when you looked forward again there were only a few carpeted steps between you and… everything.

Copia surprised you by reaching forward— at first you weren’t sure what he meant by it, until you realized and quickly took his hand, letting him guide you up the stairs.  He was wearing those leather gloves you hardly ever saw him without, but even still, it was the first time you’d ever touched him; was his hand shaking?  You couldn’t tell, yet it almost felt like it.  Not to say that his grip wasn’t a strange sort of comfort in that moment; as he helped you up the stairs, you felt yourself relaxing slightly, despite being far from over with the hardest parts of this.

The first few minutes were just a matter of standing and waiting while the priest spoke: you wish you could say you remembered a damn word of it, he must’ve said something about love or marriages or… you know, all that.  Whatever it was, you were relieved when it was over and you could move on to the communion and prayer— the more familiar parts, and the parts where you got to kneel.  You were actually amazed that your legs hadn’t been noticeably wobbly so far, but they definitely could use a break.

In the time that your head was meant to be bowed in your prayer, you carefully opened your eyes and turned your head— just enough to take a peek at him quickly.  Well, your intention was to be quick about it, but once you started looking, you became distracted rather easily.  It was just that you'd never seen him so up close, you were sure: you'd never noticed the slope of his nose before, or how long his eyelashes were, or the shape of his lips in this profile—

Suddenly, as if he sensed your stare somehow, his eyes popped open and glanced over to return it.  He gave you a half smirk as your eyes widened and you snapped your gaze back down to your clasped hands.

“...and may they be joined in unholy matrimony for all eternity,” the priest ended his prayer: “Nema.”

“Nema,” you and Copia and the rest of the congregation replied.

The penultimate step of the ceremony was the exchanging of the rings, which were extended towards you both on a little velvet pillow— it was actually kind of adorable, you thought.

You figured he might take his gloves off for you to put the ring on, but it was apparently designed to fit around them; alternately, you had to suppress a startled reaction to your own ring as he gently placed it on your finger.  It was a massive ruby surrounded with onyx and black diamonds, intricate and completely unsubtle.  You knew Copia had expensive taste, and it was certainly in keeping with such a lavish wedding, but you wondered if it would look entirely out of place on you for daily wear.

I’ll wear this ring every day, forever, you reminded yourself; you breathed out shakily as his hands held yours so tenderly for one more moment after your ring was in place.

And then there was only one thing left.  The thing you’d been preparing yourself for since this morning— or perhaps since that fateful meeting with the clergy: the kiss.

It felt pretty melodramatic with him lifting your veil over your head, and it felt surreal to be in the part of this that you’d been imagining in hopes of preparing yourself.  Of course, it was a little different than how you’d pictured it, most of all the look on his face: it was subtle, but he didn’t seem as serious or muted as you were used to.  It wasn’t like he was grinning or anything— that would’ve actually been sort of creepy— but there was a small smile on his face.

You heard the priest say something about husband and wife but you weren’t paying attention, it all sounded distant somehow.  And maybe you sort of psyched yourself up for this moment too much— maybe you wanted to get the wedding over with, maybe you were afraid if you didn’t commit fully that you’d end up instinctively backing away when he came closer and you’d both be humiliated in front of all these people.

There were other possible explanations for what you did, but for whatever reason, you all but threw yourself onto him and kissed him.

It only lasted for a few seconds, but that moment may as well have been frozen in time; it took him a second to react, his hands settling near your waist— and it took the crowd a moment too, but they began to clap and cheer for you both at some point.

Truthfully, you weren’t thinking much about how it felt to kiss him… you couldn’t, really, without losing focus on the point of all this.  You weren’t here to have a nice kiss or meet someone you might like— you were here to serve a purpose, to fill a role.  And that’s not to say you weren’t grateful, but you weren’t going to let yourself be distracted from your duty to the church.

You backed away as suddenly as you’d latched onto him, and when you opened your eyes after scrunching them shut during the kiss, you saw him looking at you with a bit of shock in his expression.  Only then did you wince to yourself and wonder, was that too much?

He took your hand and turned to face the congregation, so you followed suit of course, and as he smiled and waved at them politely you were a little surprised to see them all standing and applauding.  It definitely felt like a bigger crowd from this side of the cathedral…

You were almost frozen for a second, until you felt his hand guiding you down— he was already on the first step down, so you quickly picked up your skirt and followed him.  You had wondered before if you would feel different walking back down the aisle with him, compared to when you processed on it alone.  You weren’t sure if you really felt married or something— what would that even feel like?— but you did feel different.

You felt better, actually— relieved, happier, you even caught yourself smiling at the crowd, but it was hard not to with how… energetic they were.  Despite not really knowing what to do with all that attention, you at least appreciated it, though it surely had little to do with you.  They were cheering for him because he’s Copia— Frater, the former Papa, heir of the Emeritus bloodline— and they were only cheering for you because you’re his wife.

And no, just because you understood that logically didn’t mean it felt at all real yet.

Frater Imperator and Sister Imperator Consortia! you could hear the announcement echoing through the hall, though it was distant compared to the claps and hollers.  You dared one glance at him by your side, thinking it might be easier than looking at this massive crowd around you, and found him already smiling at you; and with a warmth beginning to spread on your face, you let him guide you out of the doors, into the rest of the church submerged in nightfall. 

~

After a crowded spectacle like that, the quiet of his chambers was quite a relief.  So much so, actually, that it dampened some of that eerie, anxious feeling of being alone with Copia in his bedroom; it wasn’t quite as spacious as you would’ve assumed someone with his level of importance would have, but the ornate and luxurious furniture made perfect sense.

You were so caught up in taking it all in, almost entranced by the beauty all around you, that when he spoke it slightly startled you. 

“That kiss,” he said suddenly.  “Wow.”

It was just that his voice sounded so different like this: no microphone, no massive chapel, just one small room with stone walls.  There was a brief pause as he ran his gloved hand over his hair, blowing air quickly out of his mouth, and you realized you should probably respond somehow: for some reason, your mind struggled to accept that he was speaking to you directly.  “I’m sorry if I was too forward, I just—”

“No!  No, not at all,” he laughed thinly, “no, you did very well.  I’m sure today was… overwhelming for you.”

It felt good to just hear him confirm that: up until now, everyone in the clergy had been sort of acting like this was normal, never really acknowledging (let alone validating) your stress.

“If it’s any comfort, it was for me, too.  And I’ve had a lot more experience with large crowds than you,” he added.

You smiled a little; “Yes, that’s true— but it must be different here, at home.”

“Mm,” he nodded, pondering that for a second.  “It is.  But it’s preferable in some ways, too— like now, being able to come back to my own space.”

You envied that a bit; you were likely never to return to your chambers across the building, and while you didn’t necessarily enjoy sharing that space with a dozen other Sisters, it was probably easier than sharing a bed with just one man.

Before you could get a little too caught up in that train of thought, he spoke again.  “I can’t believe I haven’t already told you how exquisite you look in your dress,” he offered.

“O-oh, thank you,” you hummed, “I’m very fortunate, it’s a beautiful gown.”

“Of course it is, I picked it out,” he informed you proudly.  “I have excellent taste, no?”

“You do,” you agreed with a small laugh.

“And you liked the ceremony, I hope?”

“Yes, Papa,” you answered dutifully.  “I-I mean, Frater.”

“Force of habit,” he noticed, “literally.  But, I'm not Frater to you anymore, I'm your husband.”

That certainly made your heart skip a beat, even though you couldn’t imagine you had forgotten it in the last ten minutes.  “So what should I call you, then?” 

“Well, just my name should do,” he laughed slightly, seeming a bit surprised by the question.  “Spouses call each other pet names from time to time, would you like that?”

You might have been able to think about that idea more clearly if his hand wasn't on your waist, petting along the curve of it absent-mindedly.  “I… don't know,” you admitted, “I’ve never really tried it.”

“It will come naturally, I suppose,” he shrugged.

“So, it is a proper marriage then,” you realized.

“Hm?” 

You wondered if you shouldn’t have said it aloud.  “I-I just mean, I wasn’t sure at first… if maybe it was all political, you know,” you admitted.  “A marriage for show, not necessarily of a personal nature, I guess.”

“If it were political, I would have been paired up with someone from another church, I imagine,” he explained, one of his eyebrows raising.  “Did you think I chose you randomly?”

It felt pretty fucking random, you wanted to say, but that would have been a little bit harsh.  Instead, you sat down on the edge of the bed (which was only a little cumbersome with your dress) and he copied you, sitting just a few feet away.  “I’m so honored you chose me, Copia,” you began, feeling a little odd about using his name so casually, “but I just… I can’t imagine why.”

“The clergy asked me the same thing,” he recalled, “but they weren’t satisfied with my answer— I’m sure you won’t be, either.”

“Try me,” you encouraged.

“Well… I saw you once,” he explained slowly, “in a Mass— I gave you communion, do you remember that?”

“O-oh, yes, I think you’ve served me the elements a few times.”

“This was the first time,” he assured, “I know, because I thought to myself she must be new, if I’d seen her before I would’ve remembered it.”

You tried not to smile too wide, but you couldn't help some reaction.  You never imagined you'd left such an impression on him.

“You looked up at me, and you just looked so sweet… I couldn’t get the image out of my mind, you on your knees before me…”

You crossed your legs tightly.  “I mean, I remember that too, of course.  But it’s because it was the first time I saw you in your papal robes— I was just one of hundreds, I didn’t even know you could tell us apart.”

“Well, you stood out to me— maybe it was fate, eh?” he smirked.  But he was the head of the clergy, the most important man in the church: he made his own fate.

“And that’s it?” you realized sheepishly.  “You thought I was pretty, or something, a few years ago and so you married me?”

“Not pretty, no— pretty is cheap, cara mia.  You were enchanting.”

Was this flattery?  It seemed too perfect to be totally genuine, but hell, he was smooth.  

“I thought of you often,” he admitted, moving closer to you, “I imagined if I might have you to myself someday… and now I do.”

His gloved hand rested on your shoulder before carefully moving up to the back of your neck; he guided you towards him, slowly and patiently, looking into your eyes for a moment but taking longer to look at your lips. 

You swallowed nervously once before letting your eyes fall shut.

The kiss was soft at first, but grew more intense with every moment; he breathed a little heavier through his nose and you could feel it against your face.

His arms wrapped around you, and it should've felt nice, like a loving embrace; it sort of did, it just also started to make you feel claustrophobic, forcing you to fight the urge to squirm out of his grasp.

You wanted to give into it, you wanted to let yourself melt into his arms… but as he held you tighter and kissed you harder, your heart started to race in a way that wasn’t pleasant anymore.

Pulling back and pushing against him, you broke away and hoped he wouldn’t be angry with you or hurt by your rejection.  Fortunately, he let you move back as soon as you tried, and looked at you with an expression more of surprise than frustration.

“W-wait, I—” you mumbled nervously, willing your hands not to shake with nervousness.  “It’s not that I don’t— we’ve only just— I do find you attractive, but—”

“We don’t know each other very well,” he finished for you.  “It's alright, you seemed nervous already.”

“Yes,” you sighed, smiling with relief.  “I just thought… maybe we could get to know each other better first, before we…”

“I didn't expect you to be so shy,” he noticed with a soft laugh.  You were keeping close watch on his tone and, from what you could tell, he thankfully didn't sound too disappointed.

“I-I’m usually not,” you assured, “maybe compared to some other Sisters…”

“Well, that's a low bar,” he noted with a raised brow, “but anyhow, it doesn't bother me.  I'm happy to wait until you're… more comfortable.”

You smiled a little, glancing away briefly.  “Thank you,” you began, barely managing to stop yourself from calling him by a title again.

“I just hope you'll stay in my bed tonight— it's your bed, too, you know.  Nothing else has to happen.”

“Of course,” you smiled, “I'd like that.” 

He nodded shortly at you and moved as if he was going to get up, but you opened your mouth impulsively to speak— even if nothing came out right away— and he stopped.

“But, um— you could kiss me again,” you suggested quickly, before you lost the nerve.  He smiled, with a certain sparkle in his eyes that made you squirm slightly against the bed.

His hand brushed under your chin gently, lifting your face until you were forced to look right up at him.  “If it would please you,” he returned with a purr.

Swallowing thickly, you nodded; “Yes,” you insisted softly.

This kiss was slower, but no less intoxicating: he touched you like you were the most fragile thing, and the movements of his lips seemed to gently guide your own.  You heard yourself sigh against him, and his thumb started to pet your jawline tenderly.

You remembered that moment clearer now, the one he described to you before. Taking communion from him, kneeling under him, waiting with an open mouth for him to deliver the mana to your tongue… the cool golden chalice against your lip and the bittersweet wine…

His other hand delicately landed on your lower back, and you opened your mouth wider, letting his tongue graze against yours.

When he pulled back, you found yourself leaning forward just for a second, chasing him for more.  And he obviously noticed, it was clear from the way he smiled down at you.  You wondered if he would indulge your desire for more— for a second, you imagined he might decide that you were more ready than you'd let on and take you right then and there.  A little brutish, yes, but the idea tickled a certain corner of your brain.

But, no, he sat up straight and let out a short breath.  “I'll get ready for bed,” he announced.  “You should too— you've had a long day.”

You nodded back; “Yes, Papa,” you returned compulsively once again.  “Damn it!”

“It seems you have a lot of new things to get used to,” he laughed.

More than you know, you thought to yourself as he walked into the bathroom and shut the door behind him.

[wordsnstuff]

Hello! I just had the realization my original plot just isn't going to work but I'm almost done with my first draft and I'm too married to a lot of my scenes I've already written to feel like i can fully start over. Do you have any advice? Just thinking about starting over is making me want to put the pen down for a while...

Starting over near the finish line

By first draft, I'm assuming you mean that this is the first attempt at putting the your story to paper. What I'm about to say is not to devalue the incredible amount of work that you must have invested up to this point. It is an accomplishment on its own to sit down and put words on that page, let alone reach a point anywhere near a finish line.

The first time you do something (anything) is rarely the time you do it well, let alone perfectly.

If I sat a beginner down with some printouts of blogposts about knitting and a spool of yarn, I doubt they'd make me a sweater without having to undo at least 50% of the moves they make. That wouldn't be because they're stupid or genetically predisposed to suck at knitting. Regardless of how seasoned you are as a writer, each work you approach is like starting a brand new hobby from scratch. You have to mentally allow for space to make errors and to let go of good ideas. This doesn't mean you throw the good and essential core of your story out.

Take significant time to review what you have, identify the bits and characteristics that you find most emotionally and mentally compelling. Write them down, examine the commonalities and congruencies between them, and work out exactly you like about your story as it stands. There is always good amongst the bad. You seem to already have identified certain parts that you cannot bring yourself to let go, so once you figure why that is, you'll be able to trim away what doesn't serve you and move forward.

You aren't starting over. This is not the beginning, and you will never be back at the beginning again. This is process, and process is imperative to making anything. If you continue to visualize writing as an act that starts at point A and ends at point B you will never be done. Nor will you do justice to your ideas. If you don't allow them to waddle around and fall on their face like the newborn babies that they are, they won't develop as they're meant to.

This is not failure. This is writing. It's a necessary part of what you're doing. It's normal. It's good for you. It's good for your story. In fact, it speaks well to your character development and world building and even your plot development that you can recognize there is so much worth salvaging in this first attempt to bring to the next. You're already emotionally connected to so much of what you've made, and plot is only part of that. If you're able and willing to acknowledge what doesn't work, you will be able to trust yourself when you determine what does. A story is a sum of its parts, and this is just one part that you're going to put down, regroup, and reconfigure.

There are several resources that I've created over the many years to assist in plot development and all the problems encountered within, and those are available on my masterlist for your perusal.

I wish you the best of luck and look forward to your triumphant follow up once you finish that second draft.

x Kate

[zer0pm]

Imagine being an undercover agent who once infiltrated Umbrella and grew close to Luis Serra. You were forced to separate from him, never telling him why and broke his heart in the process. When you thought that you have finally moved on, you find him again. Tied up in a sack.

“What’s in Spain?”

“My home. A village, to be exact. And remote. The people there could use people like us to help them. No one would be able to find us there. Not even Umbrella. There, we can disappear.”

“…I’m sorry, Luis. I can’t.”

.

“You seem distracted.”

“What?” you blink, immediately biting your tongue after. But it was too late, you were caught red-handed.

“Case in point,” your partner Leon sighs. “So, what is it? What’s on your mind?”

You reply with a frown, “I’m wondering how deep these tunnels go. Must have something important down here for these… villagers to go through the trouble of trying to lock it up inconspicuously.”

It was such a blatant lie, the blond’s stony expression showed that he wasn’t buying it at all. But Leon doesn’t say anything. Instead, he leads on with his gun and flashlight pointing forward in the darkness. You were relieved that he didn’t press further.

But he’s also right. You were distracted and on a mission where a steady, focused mind is imperative at all times. Mulling over the past on things that were best laid forgotten is meaningless and offered no benefit to the task at hand. So why bother even allowing it to weigh so heavily in your thoughts?

Because what are the odds that this is the same place that he mentioned? The one that he wanted to hide away with you within? Given everything you’ve seen so far, with all these monsters roaming about, you sincerely hope not. Surely this is all coincidental and that he is in some other part of Spain.

.

“You mentioned that you grew up in Spain, right? What was it like there?”

“Oh? For once you don’t want to talk about work or whatever ingenius discoveries I’ve made recently? Pero, you actually want to engage in small talk? It must be a sign!”

“Answer the question or I’m requesting a department change.”

“Calma, calma. I only tease. Hmm… The weather can be unforgiving, especially during the rainy season. The people live day-to-day on whatever resources that can grow or be found under the constantly harsh conditions. Sickness often spreads and the treatment is… archaic.”

“This all sounds awful.”

“It wasn’t all bad. Everyone in our small community had someone to support them. I had my grandfather. He helped shape me to be the man I am today. A very handsome man at that, with both brains and brawn. In case, you didn’t notice already.”

“He must be very proud of you.”

“I hope so...”

“You don’t keep in touch?”

“So interested in my life story all of a sudden. And yet I still know so little of yours.”

“What’s there to know? There’s not much to tell.”

“See, that is where you’re wrong, my friend. A key to a great story is time to gather your thoughts. And I wouldn’t mind making time to listen to yours. How does after work sound? There’s an excellent coffee spot around the corner.”

“…You know what? A drink sounds great.”

.

You should have rejected him then and there. The task was only to gather information and find evidence of the production of biochemical weaponry. Forming attachments was not part of the job. But you couldn’t find it in yourself to deny him then, convincing yourself that it was necessary to reinforce your cover. You were seen as just a researcher forging deep interpersonal relationships with your fellow coworker and not at all a spy for the government sent to infiltrate a pharmaceutical giant for secrets that could topple a nation.

No one suspected a thing- not Umbrella, not your handlers, not even him. It worked. But it didn’t make you feel any less guilty about it, especially when you developed real feelings for him and he reciprocated them earnestly and affectionately. At first, you meant to play along with no intention of taking him seriously. The Spanish researcher expressed himself as a man who talks a big game but settles down or folds over for no one. He had a reputation within the labs as a serial flirt after all.

However, the day he casually asked you out, he surprised you. Beneath all the playful, charming remarks and practiced come-hither smirks belied a genuine romantic. He was a man passionate about his work, driven by a real desire to help others. He cared about other people, evident at how intently he listened to you when your shared bits of yourself to him. Granted, much of what you said then was fabricated to uphold your secret identity, but he showed unwavering interest in you and the image you created as if you two were only people in that coffee shop that mattered. After one date came another, then another, then another until you lost count. You fell for him and you fell for him hard. And before you knew it, at his suggestion, the two of you moved in together.

It was a dream. A wonderful dream. You couldn’t remember the last time you lived a normal life, let alone someone to come home to. It was such a domestic feeling. To go wit him to work by day then go home together by night to fall asleep in each other’s arms and do it all over again the following morning. To fall into a routine was strange and something you grew affectionately accustomed to. And it was all because of him. He made you feel safe. He made you feel loved. He made you feel normal. But it was only a dream. And all dreams eventually come to an end.

It got to a point where you dug yourself so deep that by the time you had to shed your identity and leave him, it left scars that neither of you would ever recover from.

.

“¿Qué? What do you mean, you can’t?”

“I can’t go to Spain with you.”

“Is it the location? We can go anywhere you want,l, but we have to make sure we hide our tracks from Umbrella-”

“I mean that I can’t go with you. Anywhere. Period.”

“¿Mande? Why.”

“I want to tell you, I really do.”

“…Tú no me quieres.”

“No! Of course I do.”

“Then why? Why can’t you run away with me? I can protect us, you just have to trust-”

“This isn’t about trust.”

“Then tell me what it is!”

“…This isn’t going to work. I’m sorry, I have to go.”

“L-Lo siento, mi corazon. I didn’t meant to shout. We can work through this-”

“Just please remember that what we had was real.”

“¡Amor!”

“Goodbye, Luis.”

.

That was the last time you saw him. You broke his heart, the pieces of yours shattered away with every step that you took away from him. Revisiting those memories all caused a single tear to fall down your cheek.

You have to move on. It’s been long enough. It was all to protect him, you told yourself countless times. In your line of work, attachments just do not (and cannot) stick. And you stuck with that choice without an ounce of regret. You only hope that wherever Luis is now, he’s happy and safe. That alone kept you going.

When you finally broke yourself out of your daze, you found yourself facing a wall. You quietly berated yourself for your absentmindedness again and were grateful for the darkness. Luckily, your fellow agent didn’t notice you or your inner turmoil, something else catching his attention at the end of the tunnel.

“Over here. I found someone.”

Your head snaps towards Leon’s direction, your heartache momentarily dulled and set aside. “Ashley Graham?”

“Don’t know yet,” Leon replies, crouching down. “Here, hold the light.”

You hurry over to the blond’s side, taking the flashlight from him and directing it towards his finding. A large sack, big enough for a person, was flailing about. The sound of muffled struggling reaches your ears. Leon unties the top of the thick cloth before pulling it down. You almost didn’t believe what, or rather, who you were seeing. But your eyes were blown wide in recognition before Leon rips the tape off of their mouth. There was no mistaking those rugged features, that dark hair, and those grey eyes that you fell in love with helplessly so long ago.

It was him. The man that haunted your every thoughts and dreams. The man that dug his way into your heart and made a home there.

Luis Serra Navarro.

“Oh no, not you.”

The man merely gazes back at you, momentarily stunned before chuckling in that husky voice of his that you thought you’d never hear again.

“I’ve missed you too, mi corazon,” he says. His eyes glide over your form lasciviously, uncaring that you (and your partner) can see him staring shamelessly. He looked and smiled at you as if the years spent apart never happened. “Te ves bien.”

You had so many questions.

.

.

.

A/N: Part Two can be found right here~

[pukanavis]

[18Trip] Toi Shiramitsu Mayor Novel "The Day I Became an Angel" Chapter 1 | The Ritual Room

Part 1 | Part 2

*Before you choose to continue, please note that the novels contain major spoilers for the main story of the game, and it is recommended that you only read them once you have finished the main story!

There’s a ritual that Grandfather told me about, one that the heads of the Shiramitsu family have passed down for generations.

It’s a mandatory process in order to be blessed with the powers of an angel, apparently.

Subsequently, I was determined to try my hardest. Once the 9 day long ritual ended, they said that an angel—Oshisha-sama—would settle within my body. I told myself without a shadow of doubt, that I would make it through.

“Ah…aah…uhgg…”

When they first locked me away, I felt scared, panicked, I called out for my brother to save me, and wept for hours. When I no longer had the strength to even cry, I finally began to feel a semblance of peace. I was cold, tired and starved, but I promised myself I would persist. At times, I couldn't hold back the strange groaning sounds that slipped out. And yet, and yet…

“Uu…aah…”

The mucous membranes in my parched throat dried out, making it painful to even draw a breath. I was so thirsty that spots began to fill my vision.

I told myself to keep going.

“Aah…”

My fingers, devoid of nearly all their strength, clawed at the ground. There was a strange design painted across the floor. Mother said it was a summoning circle that would bring forth Oshisha-sama.

I scratched at the circle, almost as if I were tracing the lines.

In order to earn Oshisha-sama's favour, it is imperative that one must be near death. Oshisha-sama won’t come otherwise, they say.

“Does...Oshisha-sama like it when...people are on their deathbed…?” 

My voice was hoarse. It didn’t sound like it belonged to me. It reminded me of the wailing ghosts I saw around town, the ones that had suffered miserable deaths.

I thought it was a little strange that Oshisha-sama liked people on the drink of death. He is an angel, after all. I had always imagined angels as beings that saved those in need.

“Ah, ah…aah…”

Even so, Oshisha-sama was going to save me from this pain. He and I would form a bond and then…and then…uhm…?

My head was screaming. I struggled to form a coherent thought. I was trying my hardest not to fall asleep, but my consciousness began to slip away from me. My body was trying to make me rest, but I couldn't. It was the one thing I couldn't let happen.

I leaned against the wall in an attempt to keep myself awake but with no strength left in my frail neck, my head slumped backwards.

My eyes landed on the sole tiny window in my cell, the only thing that allowed light to seep through. 

The dark, cloudy sky beyond it seemed to go on forever.

“...”

They say that the family my brother and I were born into—the Shiramitsu family—have been possessed by angels for generations.

Many of their children showed a sense for the paranormal and possessed clairvoyance, psychic abilities and a talent for divination…they used these powers to provide aid to others and steadily amassed a following of believers.  Mother and Grandfather say that our family is famed within those areas.

“It is the duty of the Shiramitsu family…to help people.”

Just as they had told me, I too had psychic abilities. I could see ghosts and phantoms and even speak with them if they were open to it.

Ani-sama doesn’t have any psychic power…I must have hogged it all to myself while we were in Mother’s tummy.

Instead, all the masculinity and coolness that I lack went to him. Ani-sama has always been my very own shining hero…

“...”

My thoughts were a scattered mess and it began to feel like I may never again be the way I once was.

Maybe I really had been just a step away from reaching my limit. I could feel unconsciousness creeping up the longer I remained in that state. Grandfather warned me not to fall asleep, but what fate would I meet if I happened to faint?

Would I become a failure if I lost consciousness? Would they be mad at me?

No, no, I’m not afraid of anyone being upset with me. What scares me is failing and not being able to become a source of help for everyone.

I have to keep going. I have to do this, for everyone. I have to.

But…but my body, it wants so so desperately to just—

“Toi!”

“...!”

—The sight I saw at that moment…

“Toi, are you okay!?”

The sight beyond that little window—

Before I knew it, the skies had cleared and light began to pour past the glass.

“Ah…”

The shadows cast by the barred window piled onto one another, swallowed by a single silhouette. Backed by the gleaming moonlight, was my brother—

“Toi, Toi…!”

It was as if a new God had just descended onto Earth.

Oh no…what do I do now? I was waiting for Oshisha-sama, but God had shown up ahead of the angel. Maybe I had already died… No, that couldn’t be right.

“Ani…sama…!” I called back.

My brother's face crumpled with guilt. He called my name in a pained voice. Ani-sama was distressed…because of me.

Please, don’t make that face. Don’t feel sad over me. I’m okay.

I wanted to hold him in my arms.  I wanted to assure him everything was okay. I wanted dearly to touch him one more time.

I wanted to take away my brother’s pain, no matter what may happen to me. I wanted to heal his sorrow.

I didn't even need to be the one to do it. Please, someone, anyone—

And then it happened.

“Are you my next host?” a voice echoed in my head.

Part 1 | Part 2

[bizarrebazaar13]

I have been thinkin. lately. about the possibility of May and The King ever reconciling, at least partialy. and i know we both have it as an eventuality in our various timelines. but im still stuck on the how, if ever. [beyond being potentially spurred on by jealousy akdkfkkgkh] so i have come to seek your thoughts and insight into the matter further.

before we go any further it is imperative you know that I am answering this posed like that onion “businessman does his work laying in bed like schoolgirl” article. ok proceed.

I think for this to work at all, the King has to initiate. we know the Manager has been wanting this for a long time now, and we know the King has rejected the idea. the Manager asking for the millionth time isn’t going to change the King’s mind. it has to come from the King himself.

I also think that at the moment, they both want very different things from that reconciliation. May wants everything forgiven in one grand gesture, something you can see in any interaction with him where the King is brought up. his grand gesture of choice as of FL is turning himself into a city; he wants to do one big thing that finally proves he’s good enough for the King to take him back.

the King, though, is understandably over grand gestures of love like that. it has to be gradual. healing from what he went through won’t be instant or easy, and while that’s probably part of why he’s been avoiding it, he does recognize that. we cannot simply sit and stare at our wounds forever, and we also cannot expect them to go away overnight!

and getting more speculative, the Manager strikes me as someone who wants their relationship to move beyond the first city. he wants to show the King what he’s built and what he’s become, wants to visit Polythreme, etc. he approaches the tragedy of the fall of the first city more like “so that happened. what do we do now?” whereas the King is more stuck on the fact that it shouldn’t have happened at all. Polythreme architecture is all in the style of the first city, the King wears first city clothes, he’s recreating the past as much as possible. the King wants things to go back to the way they were before he even was sick.

so for a true reconciliation to happen, May needs to realize that one singular event can’t undo all of their pain, and the King needs to accept that things will never go back to how they used to be. and again, the King has to be the one to initiate. there would need to be some sort of catalyst for the King to start thinking about moving on, and for it to really be effective, it would probably have to come from a clay man. they are the people closest to the King in every sense of the word.

maybe the story of the clay highwayman sticks with the King for a while. and maybe one day, a clay man brings it up, and it makes the King furious, but it also makes him think. not enough to regret what he did to the clay highwayman, but enough to wonder if he did the right thing. slowly, he starts loosening his control over the clay men. he’s still their king, but maybe he doesn’t need control what they think and feel, you know?

eventually, when the Manager arrives at the gates of Polythreme, expecting to find them barred, they’re open. no one greets him there. he doesn’t even see the King at all. but he’s no longer cut off completely.

basically: it has to come from the King. I love the idea of the clay highwayman’s story being the thing that starts this process. and it’s going to be very slow. and painful. but I do really think that they could make it work. they knew each other best once, perhaps they still do. the wounds are always going to be there, but maybe we don’t need to let them bleed anymore.

[mikavlcs]

Breathe

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x asthmatic!fem!reader

Summary: A sudden run in with the Hyde induces an asthma attack. Luckily, Wednesday is there to help you.

Warnings: asthma attack(?), this is kinda rushed and not proofread lol, author does not have asthma but tried their best to research, this also makes no sense with the timeline of the show...ignore that<3

Word count: 2.8k

Notes: late post lol but this was a request from two weeks ago. sorry for the wait anon, but i still hope you enjoy!

Masterlist

Having a partner in her investigation was something Wednesday never planned on.

She had started it alone because she was the only one to see Rowan’s death, and apparently, the only one to believe it actually happened.

Besides you.

The first time you approached Wednesday about what happened that night, she simply walked away. But you kept coming back, kept insisting that your knowledge of outcasts and creatures could help her.

After a week of your attempts, she did spill some of the details to you, only because she was desperate for you to just shut up. 

But you surprised her. Greatly.

Once she showed you one of Xavier’s paintings she stole, you were the one that correctly identified the monster as a Hyde. You confirmed that the Hyde was indeed a person and that Hydes always acted on the whims of their masters.

Despite her initial impression of you, you had provided crucial information to the case and made yourself an imperative part of it moving forward.

Before she knew it, she was spending more and more time with you.

When she found a new lead, you were informed as soon as possible. Your opinions and insight became important to her, though if you asked her she would vehemently deny that. And your presence in her dorm became so normal, that Enid and Thing would inquire about your whereabouts when you weren’t there.

Though she’d love to say otherwise, the two of you had grown somewhat close. Which is why she wasn’t entirely surprised to find out that you were asthmatic.

The time you spent together allowed her to notice many things about you and she noticed the ways your condition manifested itself in your behaviors within weeks of properly partnering with you.

You tended to avoid strenuous exercise, something she never thought twice about because she too had no love for exercise or physical sports of any kind. But that combined with the rather persistent cough you had some days and the vague panic she saw in your eyes whenever that cough got particularly heavy made her aware that something was off.

Your reasoning for not telling her about it upfront was some ridiculous fear that she would kick you off the investigation if she found out about your asthma.

But she didn’t, she only demanded you give her one of your spare inhalers.

Not because she personally cared about your well-being, that would be ludicrous. She simply wouldn’t allow you to die because of something as pathetic as your own forgetfulness.

You were her partner, after all, and you dying would significantly affect her investigation. Which is the same thought process she followed from that point on when she found herself studying you.

Wednesday would observe you throughout the day, taking note of how clear your breathing was or how much you coughed, and if you were having issues, she would try to deduce why.

Weather conditions, she found, had a particularly damning effect on you. Things like air temperature and density affected your asthma greatly, and the moment she realized this, she began making adjustments to her investigation to better suit your health.

During stormy days when the humidity in the air was almost stifling, she would ask you to help put together a crime board in her dorm.

She would insist on doing research in the library on colder days since the frigid air could be a trigger for you.

The spare inhaler you gave her gained permanent residence in her bag, going everywhere that she did in case there was an emergency of some kind.

And this ended up paying off greatly when the two of you journeyed into the forest to find the cave in one of Xavier’s drawings.

Wednesday was very hesitant to let you come along in the first place.

There was a myriad of factors that fed into her reasoning, your asthma being one of the largest. But your arguments were not without their merit.

The weather was clear, the sun shining bright without a cloud in the sky to impede it, and the Hyde hadn’t made an appearance in weeks. And while that was true, there was still an inherent danger in the situation.

You absolutely refused to take no for an answer, following her around and bothering her (more so than usual) all day.

Part of her still wanted to refuse while another wanted to give up and accept your company. Your guidance and knowledge weren’t necessary for this, especially given your lack of knowledge about the layout of Jericho’s forests.

But as much as she wished it was, Wednesday couldn’t deny that the idea of spending more time with you wasn’t entirely unappealing.

So she gave in and allowed you to join her, on the condition that you both brought along an inhaler for you. You agreed with some light grumbling, and you both set off into the woods.

The two of you had been roaming through the forest for about twenty minutes—Wednesday closely reading Eugene’s directions while you leisurely followed, offering the occasional (bad) joke to fill the silence.

You were in the middle of one of those jokes when a sound in the distance made you both freeze.

Wednesday turned, met your wide eyes, and looked in the direction of the sound. She waited, watching closely for any type of movement.

There was a moment of stillness then a twig snapped, the sound closer than the last. More silence ensued and Wednesday quietly inched toward you, positioning herself in front of you. A beat. Then a long scratching sound cut through the air, like something sharp—a claw perhaps was carving through the bark of a nearby tree.

Wednesday’s hand found your wrist, and she barely had the time to properly look at you before a thunderous roar tore through the forest and she was taking off in the opposite direction, pulling you with her.

Trees whizzed past in a blur as she, and in turn, you raced through the forest. Wednesday wasted no time trying to identify the creature following them. She knew that roar. She heard it the night Rowan died.

It was the Hyde, finally reappeared after weeks of inactivity to antagonize you two. Intentionally? Possibly. But she wasn’t going to fully delve into her theories until both of you were safe.

She didn’t dare look back and risk losing her footing on an unseen tree root or rock, but she could hear the monster giving chase behind her, leading her to increase her pace and tighten her grip on your wrist. The two of you ran at a steady pace for minutes on end, only slowing slightly when Wednesday felt you stumble behind her.

Finally, the sounds of the Hyde’s pursual faded but Wednesday only brought you both to a stop once they had long since stopped and she was sure it wasn’t there anymore.

She ignored the fire coursing through her legs in favor of taking in her surroundings, both watching and listening keenly for any sign of the monster and finding none.

“Alright, I think it’s gone, we should…” Her words faded when she saw you stagger in her peripheral.

Confused, she turned to you and finally took in your state. You were unsurprisingly sweaty and short of breath, but the redness of your face was beginning to give way to an unnatural paleness. Again, you stumbled, your pants turning to choked coughs, and only when she saw your chest stutter did she realize what was happening.

Her confusion morphed into horror, and she was by your side in a second.

She guided you to sit against a nearby tree, and you all but collapsed against the raised roots, harsh wheezes escaping you as your hands fumbled toward your pocket. Wednesday watched, puzzled, as you froze, your eyes widening.

The realization hit her a moment later. Your inhaler was in your right pocket, she knew because she watched you put it there and she was just noticing how flat that pocket now was.

“It isn’t there?”

You started to speak but your chest constricted, swallowing your words, so you instead shook your head violently. The tears in your eyes made Wednesday’s own chest ache, and that pushed her into action.

Tearing her bag off her back, she dug around its contents for your spare inhaler, desperately tossing her things out of the way. She struggled for about twenty seconds before finally finding it.

Like you showed her, she flipped the inhaler upright, shook it firmly, then brought it up to your mouth, her other hand moving to gently cup your cheek.

You breathed in as best you could as she gave a puff, weakly gripping her wrist as you watched her mentally count to thirty. Once she reached thirty, she shook the inhaler again and gave you another puff.

She repeated this process three more times before you shook your head, grip on her wrist tightening. Reluctantly, she dropped her hand and examined you.

Your breath was coming in short, deep gasps, but you were breathing again and that’s all she cared about at the moment. Intent eyes watched as your chest fell and rose from her knees in front of you, refusing to move until she knew for certain it was over.

Eventually, your hand released her wrist, and she hesitantly brought her hand back to her side. You looked up at her, the tears from before gone.

“I-I guess you could say…that you took my breath away,” you gasped out, a smile beginning to form on your face again.

Wednesday rolled her eyes so hard it hurt.

You were fine. She ignored the rush of relief she felt at the fact.

A few minutes passed and, slowly but surely, your breathing began to return to its normal pace. Wednesday observed you closely, eyes still focused on the increasingly steady rise and fall of your chest while her own heart rate decreased.

Shakily, you brought a hand to rest on your stomach, a groan falling from your lips. Wednesday inhaled sharply.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, eyes scanning you hurriedly.

You sighed, tired and heavy.

“I’m hungry.”

Wednesday rolled her eyes again, swallowing a quiet scoff. Of course, you were hungry. When weren’t you?

Shaking her head, she dropped the inhaler back into her bag and slipped it back onto her back. She reached over to grab your arm and stood, pulling you to your feet with her. “Fine, then we’ll get you food when we return to campus.”

“Oh? ‘We’ will?” you drawled, and Wednesday could practically hear the infuriating smirk you had on your face. With a sadistic smile of her own, she turned to you.

“I could always just leave you here. I’m sure you know the way back to Nevermore from here, right?”

Pride surged through her at the way you stammered. She didn’t bother giving you the chance to properly respond, snatching your sleeve and pulling you forward with her. “Let’s go, it’ll be dark soon.”

Knowing you were still a bit shaky on your feet, Wednesday walked slower than usual. It would take longer to get back to school, but there were still a few hours of daylight left so it didn’t matter much.

The walk was quiet. You were less talkative than normal, but she supposed that wasn’t surprising given the circumstances. Every so often she’d peer over at you to make sure you weren’t overexerting yourself in any way and find you just admiring the forest around you. She blamed the warmth in her chest on fatigue.

Throughout the journey, she kept a firm grip on your sleeve, valiantly ignoring the way her heartbeat accelerated whenever her fingers brushed your wrist. 

Around an hour later, Nevermore came into view and, as promised, the cafeteria was your first stop upon your return to the school. Dinner was in an hour, so the kitchen staff initially refused to give you anything until dinner.

Wednesday just glared until they gave in.

You ate your food in silence. Wednesday watched your every move only looking away to glare again at the kitchen staff whenever they looked in your direction.

The moment you were finished, she took your sleeve captive again and dragged you to Ophelia Hall. She was bringing you to rest in her dorm, only so she could monitor your state and make sure you didn’t die in her sleep.

When you arrived, she all but yanked you inside, locking the door behind her. She ventured to her desk and set her bag down while you kicked your shoes off and looked around, eyes settling on the other, uglier side of the room.

“Where’s Enid?”

“Doing god knows what with Yoko,” she answered, striding up to you and tugging your blazer off. You sputtered, the beginnings of a question on your tongue but she silenced you with a glare. She hung your blazer on the headboard and pushed you onto her bed.

“Rest.”

You blinked owlishly. “What?”

Jaw clenched, Wednesday grabbed your shoulder and shoved you onto your back. “Lay down and rest. You’re exhausted, I can see it.”

And she could. She easily saw it in the hunch of your shoulders and the way your eyes drooped the moment your head hit her pillow. You looked like you wanted to put up a fight but after another moment of her glaring, you sighed.

“Fine. But only for a bit, I’m not stealing your bed for the night.”

She nodded. “Good.”

Wednesday promptly returned to her desk and sat down, loading a piece of paper into the carriage of her typewriter so she could begin writing. She was already behind because of your voraciousness, she refused to waste any more time.

While she typed her first few sentences, she could feel your eyes on her. She paid it no mind, her focus entirely on her story. Until your voice reached her ears.

“Hey, Wednesday?”

She didn’t even bother to pause her work, addressing you while her fingers moved swiftly across the keys. “What?”

“Do you think you would let me read your novels?”

Wednesday paused her typing, giving you a sideways glance. Her answer should be no. She had never let anyone read her novels (besides incompetent publishers) but the thought of you reading them didn’t fill her with disgust.

She thought about it for another moment, then answered. “Perhaps.”

A soft laugh came from your direction. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see you smiling widely, and it took all of her innate self-control to not turn and look.

She redirected her thoughts to Viper and her current mystery. Thoughts of your laugh were slowly replaced with the bloody crime scene Viper was investigating and just when she was getting back into her rhythm, you spoke up again.

“Wednesday?”

With a sigh, she once again turned away from her typewriter to face you. “Yes?”

“Thank you,” you whispered, sending a sickeningly tender smile in her direction.

Her words caught in her throat, face getting oddly warm at the soft look in your eyes. She forced a nod, taking another moment to just look at you before returning her gaze forward.

Silence overtook the room again, the soft clacking of the typewriter the only sound to be heard. When Wednesday finally gave in and allowed her eyes to drift to you, she found you finally asleep.

You looked relaxed, even the minuscule tension she saw on you throughout the day was absent in your dreamless sleep. The smile you had before you drifted off waned as your muscles relaxed, but the shadow of it remained and Wednesday was still as captivated with it as she was before.

Once again summoning all of her self-control, Wednesday tore her eyes off of you and set them back on her typewriter, still intent on finishing her dedicated hour for her novel.

By the end of her writing hour, she had only managed to finish five pages. Meager compared to her usual daily output, but she couldn’t bring herself to be upset when you were feet away from her, sleeping in her bed without a worry in the world.

She didn’t look at you directly but she did push her chair back a bit and turn it in your direction, quietly grabbing a book she was in the middle of and flipping it open on her lap.

Wednesday placidly skimmed the pages while taking small, occasional glances at you over the book. Just to make sure you were still breathing, of course.

As she read, her mind constantly went back to your question from earlier. Should she grace you with the opportunity to read her work? A brief internal debate gave her the answer she was searching for.

Turning, Wednesday opened a drawer in her desk and pulled out the manuscript for her first novel, setting it on her desk beside her. When you woke up, she would give it to you along with a gruesome threat to your life if you made any stupid comments or told anyone about her letting you read it.

(Begrudgingly, she looked forward to hearing your thoughts on her story.)

Until then, she would keep watch and continue to make sure that nothing brought your demise before she did.

[tanginawrites]

The Marauders didn't stop bullying Snape after the prank. It actually got worse.

A lot of people are surprised to realize that the scene in Snape's Worst Memory happens after the werewolf prank. When first reading OOTP, people generally assumed that SWM showed escalating tension between the Marauders and Snape that up led to the prank. But in DH, we see Snape and Lily talking about the prank before SWM. This means that the Marauders are still singling Snape out and targeting him after prank. Why?

My theory is that the bullying actually got worse after the prank. Because the only way to hold their friend group together was for the Marauders to double down and rally around blaming Snape for what happened.

Think about it: How did that incident not tear them apart? Sirius not only exposed Lupin's secret – he also attempted to use Lupin as a weapon against Snape, and he could have gotten James killed in the process. That's a huge betrayal.

But Sirius isn't mature enough to take responsibility for it. Lupin isn't self-confident enough to confront Sirius about it. "James would-consider-it-the-height-of-dishonor-to-mistrust-his-friends Potter" isn't going to be the one to lay blame on Sirius or break up the group. But it's too big an issue to ignore. The only way they can get over this is to put it all on Snape. It was just a joke, and Snape is an idiot, and James is a hero.

If you compare the two incidents that the books show us of the Marauders bullying Snape, you can see that totally different dynamics are driving the bullying. This shows how and why the bullying got worse after the prank.

The first bullying incident we see is on the Hogwarts Express, when James and Sirius engage in verbal bullying of Snape, with one small attempt at tripping him up as he leaves. This bullying is a form of bonding for James and Sirius and forms the basis of their friend group. This is an example of bullying driven by Peer Group factors (source), and this sort of bullying is generally done to:

to attain or maintain social power or to elevate their status in their peer group.

to show their allegiance to and fit in with their peer group.

to exclude others from their peer group, to show who is and is not part of the group.

What we're seeing here is that the soon-to-be Marauders are in new environment and they're defining their peer group and establishing social hierarchy, trying to establish their status. The Marauders continue in this pattern of Peer Group bullying throughout their school career, as evidenced by the detention records Snape has Harry transcribe in HBP. The Marauders seem to have thrown out hexes in a scattershot way to establish superiority over other students and look cool. This casual, incidental sort of bullying is likely what Snape experienced for the first several years of school.

But what we see in SWM isn't bullying to maintain Peer Group dynamics. This bullying isn't just flinging a single insult or a clever hex. James and Sirius hunt Snape, they deprive him of his wand and ability to escape the situation, and they repeatedly hex him until Lily (temporarily) stops them. This incident is extremely personal. This is an example of bullying driven by Emotional factors, and this type of bullying is done when the bullies:

have feelings of insecurity and low self-esteem, so they bully to make themselves feel more powerful.

don’t know how to control their emotions, so they take out their feelings on other people.

may not have skills for handling social situations in healthy, positive ways.

What we're seeing here is all the fraying edges of the Marauders' friendship. Sirius has just damaged their group, but he can't apologize or address it without accepting blame, so he has to take his emotions out on Snape. Punishing Snape is a way to exorcise his guilt. And it's actually imperative that he bully Snape into silence, because he is the one who has revealed Lupin's secret to Snape and put them all in jeopardy. Lupin can't confront Sirius about the betrayal of trust, and likewise he can't confront his friends here. Not only does Lupin not have the emotional security for handling this situation, he also can't risk putting himself in front of Snape in this moment, lest Snape scream "Werewolf" instead of "Mudblood." James is here trying to work through his own insecurities – in bullying Snape he is defending his friends, but James is also trying to get Lily's attention. James offers to change his ways if she'll give him a chance, because James needs to reassure himself that he is chivalrous, that he is a hero.

Looking at the way the bullying dynamics change and escalate in those two scenes, I think it’s clear that Lupin’s line, “Snape was a special case. I mean, he never lost an opportunity to curse James so you couldn't really expect James to take that lying down,” is an understatement.

Snape was a special case because he knew Lupin’s secret, which would always make him a potential threat. The Marauders would always take any opportunity they could to reinforce that Snape was powerless to do anything to them. And they’d continue to take out all their emotions about the prank on Snape rather than confronting each other.

[unbidden-yidden-deactivated20240]

My (non-Jewish) anthropology professor made a really incorrect statement about the idea of Jews as “God’s chosen people”. When I (also non-Jewish but try to keep informed) corrected him, he brought up something else that sounded wrong to me: supposedly only Reform Judaism allows for conversion? I didn’t know enough to contest it at the time, but that really does not sound true to my ear, from the way I’ve heard Jewish people talk about it. Is there any truth to that?

Yeah, the Chosen People thing is often wildly and antisemitically misinterpreted to mean "We think we're G-d's Specialest Selected Elite People and the only people G-d actually loves and cares about" -- which like. Could not be further from the truth. What it actually means is: We were selected to do the project of the mitzvot of the Torah, which is a lot of extra homework that other people don't need to do but someone needs to do it. It's a lot more like "chosen to do the dishes" of the spiritual world than "chosen to be special." Now. Is there definitely some pride of place in doing the extra work? Sure! But at the same time, Jewish eschatology has always made room for non-Jews. We absolutely think non-Jews who live good lives and are decent, moral people have a solid place in the world to come. We aren't angling for a everyone to become Jewish because, kind of by definition, not everyone needs to do the ritual mitzvot. Live ethical lives and be decent to each other and us? Sure. Lay tefillin and daven three times a day and (during the Temple times) offer sacrifices and wave lulav fronds during Sukkot and eat matzah on Pesach and keep kosher and keep Shabbat? Etc.? Nope, that's our task and ours alone.

Now! If you feel personally called to living a life of Torah and believe that you have a Jewish soul and should be made part of Am Yisrael, the Jewish people, you can go through the lengthy process of conversion and (essentially) become a member of the Tribe? Yeah, you can do that. You better be real sure and go into it eyes open. You're going to need to be persistent and dedicated to studying and being present in the community. It's not encouraged, and traditionally rabbis would turn someone asking to convert away three times before accepting them as a student to make sure they were serious. In modern times, most rabbis are a bit more welcoming, but will still push you to seriously consider why you want to be Jewish. If the answer is still yes for you, then you can do it, if you must. Most gerim (converts) describe an experience very similar to how transgender folks describe our gender journeys - we can't be any other way, and wouldn't want to be. I'm both a convert and trans, and my sense of understanding myself as both non-binary and as a Jew are deeply held and equally compelling.

All branches of rabbinic Judaism accept converts. Some have a more strenuous process than others, and some take on very few converts. The more traditional the movement, the more likely it is that the person will be encouraged to explore other options. The reason for this is that the more traditional the movement, the more serious they take the binding nature of the commandments, and therefore adding another Jew (especially one who has so much to learn in a comparatively short time rather than being raised in it) is a risk that the person will revert back to their old ways or find something else later. Since we are judged collectively (Torah is a group project) and the future world to come hinges on us scrupulously observing the mitzvot (according to the more traditional movements) it is imperative that any late additions to the People be very serious and rigorous in their observance.

The liberal movements are a lot less intense about that, although it's also a spectrum. The Reform movement does not hold the ritual mitzvot to be binding, only the ethical mitzvot. They therefore lack the same incentive to avoid failed conversions. The Conservative/Masorti movement and some of the other traditional egalitarian communities do hold the mitzvot as binding, but are a lot more flexible about their expectations that everyone follow them. It's a lot more of a "do your best; we're here to support you" vibe. (That's my branch that I converted through.)

Each branch, to be clear, has their strengths and weaknesses, their merits and their drawbacks. Every Jew brings something to the table. The Reform movement (and similarly liberal smaller movements) are probably the most welcoming to gerim and have the fewest hoops to jump through, but every branch has a process and some amount of converts. Those that choose a more traditional movement typically support, respect, and value the extra hoops of the traditional movements and are willing to work within that system; at least that's how it was for me. I wanted it to be rigorous so that I was prepared and certain; I got that out of my giyur process. Other people have different needs and value systems that are equally valid.

[bleue-flora]

Write the autitic c!dream essay🙏🙏

Why I think c!Dream is Autistic - Part 1

[context]

[Part 1] - [Part 2] - [Part 3]

Welp… I guess while on the topic of neurodivergence now is as good as time as any to do this. So, at long last…

Since every version of this essay ended up way too long I’m going to break it into 3 parts, and I'm going to make more generalized statements for the sake of brevity. So, if there are things about this or autism in general you would like more clarification on or know more about, my asks are always open (though I do ask that you please wait to flood my inbox until after you’ve read all parts). I would also like to add that for the same reason of length, I am not going to go in depth on all of the facets of autism and diagnosing it. I am not a psychologist, and this essay is not about defining autism and going into full depth about what it is, but about the specific aspects of Dream and the dsmp that I think point to autism, based on what I know and more importantly my experiences as an autistic person. Having said that, just so we are on the same page - Autism means that our brains are literally structured differently (also known as neurodivergent), which means we think differently and process the world differently, it does not make us inferior or broken or less than larger society (neurotypicals), it only means we are human beings who are wired differently.

Now, for part 1 I’m going to briefly go into the traits Dream has that I think point to autism, keeping in mind that this is not necessarily all inclusive, these are not necessarily autism exclusive, and some of these can be effected with masking and personal growth. 

Highly obsessive - in general and for specific interest, to the point of not taking care of oneself, like forgetting to sleep, eat, shower, or just not caring enough to do so. 

Strong willed, determined and dedicated - not going to give up easily, willing to stay up training or farming for long hours or put in the work especially for our obsession. Our priorities aren’t always productive, but we are not ones for laziness.

Isolated - outcast, odd ball out, set apart, on the outskirts, loner, alone even if surrounded by people.

Highly intelligent - smart, clever, big brained, skilled, knowledgeable to the point of ground breaking (ex: Einstein, Elon Musk, Michelangelo, Beethoven, Leonardo da Vinci…etc)

Trouble with emotions and feelings - from recognizing them, processing them, letting ourselves experience them, understanding them, leading us to often then lash out, explode, or have a meltdown.

All about the facts and truth - sometimes to an abrasive and candid point where it can become more important than how people feel or the main point.

Logical mindset - making decisions based on logic and strategy rather than on emotions to the point of struggling to understand others when they follow no such logic

“Black and White” thinking - right and wrong, good or bad, yes or no, on or off, love it or hate it, friend or foe. Everything is in extremes.

Rule follower, one to fight for justice and for others - we are stubborn and in our strong conviction we are out against injustice and misinformation, fairness and what is right and true is imperative. 

Unable to forgive and forget - hard to let things go. Often have good memories and are able to remember things with the same detail as if it were happening again and not years ago. It doesn’t really fade with time and that makes us easily hold grudges, and hold things and behavior against people.

Resistant to change -  doesn’t matter how big or small nor whether it’s good or bad, we are enemies of change. We like to understand so uncertainty and new things are often disagreeable.

Able to recognize patterns - able to see the full picture, see history repeating itself and people’s behavioral tendencies, which makes us good at scheming and masterminding. We hate change so we want to predict things to avoid being surprised. 

Trouble articulating our point - stuttering and stumbling over our words, because our brains are moving too fast for our mouth to keep up and it’s hard to explain ourselves because our brain works differently. (we’ll talk about this more in part 2)

Struggle with body language? - I mean it’s hard to say given the Minecraft format, but to me wearing a mask could be to avoid having to make eye contact (which I hate) and appropriate facial expressions and stuff like that, which are pretty important in diagnosis. So while some headcanon that Dream wears a mask because he's too expressive and doesn't like being exposed I actually think it might be the opposite and saves him a lot of effort and brain power to not have to worry about his facial expression. :)

Stimming - (yes an ADHD thing but also an autistic thing and it's very common for someone to be both - like me ;D) vocally and physically often when more stressed, again hard to say for a Minecraft man, but I see him constantly moving like pacing the cell or jumping around and stuff as stimming and he does vocally stim on occasion as well.

Or in other words - Reasons I think c!Dream is autistic:

C!Dream = me, me = autistic -> c!Dream = autistic… boom, shortest essay ever XD lol jk 

But seriously it is a major reason. I read a tumblr c!Dream character analysis (don't remember who's) back before I even joined tumblr and related soo much, which is pretty concerning when you relate to a villain - because like wait does that make me a psychopath? but I have empathy and I care and I'm out to hurt people so why would I relate so much? And that's when I realized I think it is because he’s autistic like me so we think a like... I mean seriously the similarities are scarily uncanny down to things that have happened to me in real life…

Anyways, thank you for reading. I hope I made sense and got the idea across even by not going into super detail on all the points.

[girls--complex]

oh, and to tack on particularly in the realms of the religious influence. It's always been something i wanted to tap into but could never end up clicking with outside your and some others work. tyvm!

I'm working on the first part of your ask [about influences to my visual style] I'm actually letting it sit and cook because my ability to organize and transmit information comes from a big wet sponge made of cholesterol and gatorade that has all these wet projecting tendrils and it works on a basis of like sporadic electrical currents which I think probably come from ghosts or something IDK.

Do you want me to dump a list of theologians and religious texts? That seems rude/unhelpful because learning is discursive and the response you have to a given text is completely dependent on what your own butter sponge is doing. Dietrich Bonhoeffer's theology maybe saved my life but I know people who don't like it because they felt it was being mean to them. Or people who don't like Suzuki-roshi because he's too ambiguous but when I read him his perspective and the content of his advice seems incredibly straightforward. Hehe. (I can dump it though I also started making one because I got scared that someone will ask me for real. I'm also not a huge books based learner so the whole concept of this idea feels really frustrating.)

I honestly don't entirely know what it is that clicks with you as I'm throwing spaghetti around a lot ......

With comics this thing I try to do and that I maybe hopefully do which is that I try really hard not to scold, or have a position of moral superiority, or make any type of moral imperative. I try really hard to limit myself to "here's some journey that I experienced" (maybe allegorized or cartoonified or whatever) and then I also relate it with attention to modulate my natural narcissism so that it doesn't protagonize me in some stupid and disingenuous way. Based on observation I would guess that this thought process is generally rare in artists of all genres, creeds, and backgrounds, which is why I do it in reaction to almost every story I have ever read. Or it might just be that it's funny and the cartoons are cute IDK.

If you don't even care about my comics and are talking about some single illustration or something I really don't know.

Hope you're having a banger day I'm going to eat some purple confections I made with my friend ...

[dreamalittledreamofcopia]

blessed the latter part

papa iv/copia x reader

You could watch the snow falling outside where you sat in the library. Your table and chair was tucked away, in a corner by a window, hidden by a few catacombs and bookshelves. This was your favorite spot to sit quietly and be away from the hustle and bustle of life in the abbey, and days where you received your favorite visitor here were all the more special.

You weren’t expecting Copia to come find you today, however. His pillow talk the previous night had consisted of a few regrettable changes to plans for the week due to some meetings that were an ugly surprise from Sister Imperator. Copia’s break was ending, you feared what came next for your lover-in-secret. What started as a few flirty texts while he was away on tour as a cardinal turned into an on and off affair that had been on since Copia brought you on the first leg of the Imperatour. You didn’t want to tell anyone at the ministry about it, but the ghouls knew. The ghouls always knew, but aside from them, as far as you knew, it was secret.

He had also asked you to do some research for him, so like a good partner, you set aside a few hours to attempt to answer a few of his questions about the book of Job and his peculiar award. You could still see the adorable roll of his brows and the creases in his eyelids as he asked you why Job would name his daughter Eyeshadow in the candle light.

You were started, then, when you heard some familiar footfalls echo off the marble walls towards you. He stopped a few feet away from you, his shadow elongating across the snowy window, and cleared his throat timidly. It was one of your favorite Copia noises and you smiled warmly at the welcome sight of your lover.

“Your bangs are curly.”

You looked up to find him standing above you, his jacket off and cracked in his arms. His frame was hugged by his waistcoat, and the sight was intoxicating. You motioned for him to sit at the table — he obliged after some coaxing.

“Yeah-“ you cleared your throat and watched as he sat besides you, “I didn’t have time to straighten them this morning.”

Copia leaned over and gently tapped the end of his pen against your temple. When you giggled, he dragged it through the front part of your hair, a short curl springing out and framing your forehead. “They look so beautiful,” he hummed softly, his other hand moving towards the back of your head. You felt his fingertips pad against your scalp, someplace between a message and a scratch, sensational through your still damp roots. You had to fight your eyes from rolling back into your head and a moan slipping out of your lips, and your efforts only half worked.

“Papa…” you whispered, knowing you were the only two in this part of the library but still scared of someone finding you here like this. So scared of your secret romance finally being exposed. So scared of Imperator hearing you call him by his name and banishing you on the spot.

Copia, sensing your apprehension, just smiled at you calmly. He kept his hand behind your head but brought his over around your face, his fingers gently running over the little curlies around your eyes. “I like them like this, a lot. Very sweet, amore.” He leaned forward and placed a soft kiss above the tail of your eyebrow, his lips gently grazing over your bangs in the process. “My sweet love, dolce amore.”

Copia loved to whisper to you in public. Little words of affection and terms of endearment sent out only for you to receive, his love declared for you in the most visible of secret places. You knew you couldn’t keep this up forever, but you enjoyed the idea that you could and enjoyed that you were fooling everyone so terribly.

“I’m glad I get to see you today,” you whispered, subconsciously leaning into the touch you craved, “I thought I wouldn’t until dinner, if I was lucky.”

“Things are going smoother than anticipated,” Copia grinned, his papal paint slightly smudged around his lips from biting or pursing or the quick good-bye you snuck in this morning or the latte you snuck him later in the day, “I think the ghouls wanted to rush, for some reason.” He leaned forward and gently leaned his forehead against yours, “But I think I can guess. They’re very compassionate.”

You giggled at the thought of the ghouls cooperating just to get Copia back home to you, even if it was just for a fifteen minute break. “That’s so sweet.”

“Aurora told me your hair was cute today,” Copia mused, twirling one of your curled bangs around his fingers, “your hair is cute everyday but she was right about this one. I never get to see this.”

You tilted your chin up to meet Copia’s lips in a soft, delicate kiss, careful of the remaining paint around his lips. He hummed appreciatively, satisfaction coursing through his soul.

“I love you,” he whispered before reconnecting with you in another kiss.

“When will I see you next?” You whispered back, your breath fanning across his lips.

“Dinner, probably,” he said with a wistful sigh, “but I had to see you for some motivation. Tu mi dai la forza, angelo.”

“Mmm, that reminds me,” you said, a dopey smile on your face as you swam in his sweet scent and his sweet words, “I need another Italian lesson, Papa.”

“But you just had one last night,” Copia mused, tapping your chin lovingly, “I’m a busy Papa, you know. Can’t spend all my nights teaching you the language of love.”

That was a lie, or a half truth, perhaps — Copia would be a busy Papa because of you. He would be busy with you, devoting all his time to enjoying and loving and treasuring you. Copia didn’t plan to spend another night apart from you. He’d gladly give all of his nights to you, if you’d have them.

“I’m sure you can tweak your schedule to fit me in,” you pouted. Copia took the opportunity to press a kiss full and flush into your lips, papal makeup be damned.

“Then I’ll prepare a lesson,” he said softly as he stood back up.

“Oh, please don’t go,” you said, reaching up to take his hand in yours.

“mi dispiace, amore,” Copia replied as he laid his other hand on your face, cupping it gently. His thumb gently brushed your curly bangs out of your eyes. “I have to get back so we can end today before six.”

You nodded, turning your head to kiss the inside of his wrist, between the end of his glove and the beginning of his sleeve. “I understand but that doesn’t mean I like it.”

Copia laughed softly and nodded, leaning down to give you one last forehead kiss. “I know, I know. Find me some answers, okay? I trust you.” He stroked your face lovingly, his eyes staring down into yours and drinking you in before he gently patted your cheek. “I’ll see you soon, baby.” He said, almost mournfully as he went back to his meeting and he left you with his research, which would be filled with his name in hearts by the latter half of the hour, more than the former part.

[rose-of-the-grave]

The Great War: Chapter 2

Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x Reader

Here's chapter two, I solemnly swear that Y/N and Mattheo will actually interact soon. I hope you all enjoy! As always, I'm the author (please don't repost)

Masterlist. Series Masterlist. Chapter 1 Read on Ao3

Warnings: quidditch, Dumbledore, manipulation, Cormac McClaggen, crying in the bathroom, idk what else to add

Word Count: 3126

Description: Y/N receives her mission, runs into an unexpected help, and tries out for the quidditch team.

Taglist: @sylveryfire, @undercover-smutlover

Y/N raised her hand, knocking on the door to Dumbledore’s office.

“Come in.”

She opened the door, walking in. Y/N hadn't been in his office since the year before since everything with Umbridge and dUmbledore’s Army. It hadn’t changed one bit. Except for a shelf covered in vials. She wondered what that was about.

“Ah, Y/L/N. You got my message.”

“You wanted to see me, sir?” She asked, wondering why.

“Yes. I have a favor to ask of you. One last mission if you will.”

She approached his desk, “What do you need me to do?”

“I need more eyes on the students. One in particular in fact. Mr. Riddle.”

“Why not have Professor Snape look after him?” She asked, questioning Dumbledore’s thought process.

“I require his services elsewhere. You, however, I would like for you to watch over Mr. Riddle and report back to me about any suspicious activities.”

“Of course. Whatever is needed.”

“Good.” She started to walk away when he said one more parting word.

“And one last thing, Miss Y/L/N. If you could refrain from mentioning this task to anyone, that would be much appreciated.”

“Even Harry?”

“Especially Mr. Potter. I have a separate task for him that he needs to be focused on. It is imperative that no one suspects what you are doing.”

“Of course, Professor.”

She walked out of the room and down towards the Great Hall, hoping to get some food. Some students were roaming the halls but most of them were probably eating so there were few people around to see her duck into the abandoned girls' lavatory.

She looked around at the very place that she had spent months of time with Harry, Ron, and Hermione back in second year. Y/N hadn’t been back since then. For once Moaning Myrtle wasn’t to be seen. Odd. How on earth was she going to do this? Even if she managed to find a way to watch the Slytherin’s without making them suspicious, her friends would ask questions about her sudden interest in the enemy.

Hearing someone run into the bathroom, she hid in one of the stalls. It was someone crying, loudly. Slowly opening the stall door she came up behind the girl. A Slytherin by the looks of her green accented robes.

“Hey, are you okay?” Y/N asked softly, trying not to startle the girl.

She whirled around, it was Pansy Parkinson. Her tearstained face became apprehensive, suspicious almost immediately.

Wiping away at her tears, smudging her mascara, she asked, “What do you care?”

“I wanted to make sure you were okay. I don’t like seeing people cry. Even you.”

“How big of you.” She sneered.

Well, this wasn’t going well. If Y/N was going to spy on Riddle it would make more sense for her to befriend his social circle. She had to at least try to find an in and Pansy seemed like the best option. Draco would bite her head off, Theodore Nott didn’t talk to anybody outside his friends, and Blaise Zabini didn’t exactly have a favorable impression of her after she got him detention in fourth year. Suffice it to say, they all hated her.

“I’m being serious. What happened?”

“Nothing.”

Y/N gave her a look.

“I’m not telling you.”

“Look, I get it. You have no reason to trust me but if you ever need someone to talk to, I’m here.”

“What would your precious friends think about you associating with the enemy?” Pansy spat.

“Probably the same as Malfoy would if he knew you were talking with a Gryffindor.” Y/N shot back.

She huffed a watery laugh. “We’re not all that bad.”

“Oh, you are. And worse.”

They stood there in silence for a heartbeat before Pansy spoke, breaking the silence.

“I told someone I liked them and they told me that they didn’t like me back. I put my heart out there for the first time in my life and it got stomped on. “ She said, bitterly.

“I’m sorry. If it makes you feel any better, it was their loss.”

Pansy gave her a look of doubt.

“I mean it. You may be a Slytherin and you might not exactly be nice to everyone but you’re pretty and from what I can tell, you are also really smart even though you try to hide it. I saw how well you did on your OWLs, it wasn’t that different from what I got.”

“You mean that?”

“Yes.”

“Thanks. I needed to hear that.”

Y/N nudged Pansy’s shoulder, “You’re not as bad as I thought you were.”

“Neither are you.”

They shared a smile before leaving the lavatory. The two girls went their opposite ways and Y/N grinned. She had found a way in. Maybe this task of Dumbledore’s wouldn’t be as hard as she thought it was going to be.

On her walk back to the common room she did her best to avoid others, knowing that it was close to curfew. She passed near an area of the castle that was very familiar after all of the time she and the rest of them had spent there last year. After sneaking into the Room of Requirement almost daily, it was no surprise that she had managed to arrive back there, her feet carrying her there due to muscle memory.

She had almost passed by when she heard footsteps echoing through the halls. Nervous, she ducked behind a corner to keep out of view. Curious, Y/N peeked around the corner, wondering who could possibly be walking around at this hour towards the Room of Requirement. Then, moving into view, was Draco Malfoy. What was he doing here?

Suddenly the conversation on the train came to mind. Was he really a Death Eater? If so, what was he up to? She waited and watched as he disappeared into the room before continuing on her way.

The next morning she awoke with a smile on her face and butterflies in her stomach. Today was quidditch tryouts. She had spent all summer practicing in her backyard so hopefully she would make it. Y/N spent the entire day feeling like she was walking on clouds, a bounce in her step as she went from class to class.

Everyone had remarked on how energetic she seemed. Even her first Defense Against the Dark Arts class couldn’t undermine her good mood. It wasn’t until her last class of the day finished and she started walking over to the quidditch pitch when the jitters started to set in.

“Hey Y/N!” Ron greeted.

“Hey.”

“You ready?”

She shrugged, grimacing slightly. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“You’ll get on the team. I’ve seen the way you can fly.”

“Thanks.”

“Shut it!” Ginny yelled from her place next to Harry.

They all quieted, turning to look at her.

Harry then spoke up, “Thanks. All right. Now, if you had a spot last year that does not guarantee you a spot this year. Is that clear?”

There were a few scattered nods from the group.

“Good.”

Another Gryffindor who was also trying out approached them. Cormac McClaggen.

“No hard feelings, eh Weasley?”

Ron looked puzzled. “Hard feelings?”

“Yeah. I’ll be going after keeper myself. It's nothing personal really.”

“Really, a strapping guy like you? You’ve got more of a beater’s build don’t you? Keepers need to be quick, agile.”

A fly started to buzz around them, its humming loud in Y/N’s ear before it flew towards McClaggen who seemingly managed to crush it between his fingers without even looking.

Ron’s face turned worried.

“I like my chances.”

“Show off.” Y/N muttered, unimpressed.

Cormac glanced over at her as if it was the first time he’d noticed she was standing there in the whole time he had been talking.

“Say, think you could introduce me to your friend Granger? Wouldn’t mind getting a first name basis with her, know what I mean?” He nudged Ron, a suggestive look on his face. He clapped him on the shoulder and walked away.

Drifting closer to Ron, Y/N said, “What a douche.”

“Yeah.” Ron said, unenthused.

“Right. So I’m going to run you through a few drills to assess your strengths.” Harry called out now that everybody had settled down. He went on to detail the first drill but Y/N wasn’t paying attention.

Glancing up into the stands she saw Hermione with the other handful of spectators. Raising her hand, she waved. Hermione smiled and waved back. Good luck, she mouthed.

Y/N mouthed back, Thanks!

Out of their friend group, Hermione was probably the one she was closest with. She loved all three of her friends but Hermione was the first of them to reach out and befriend her. It was towards the start of their first year before she had become friends with Harry and Ron. Y/N hadn’t had the best time with making friends because all of the people she knew were pure-bloods. Her parents were only friends with others like them with few exceptions so all of the kids her age that she grew up with were sorted into Slytherin.

They had started to ignore her once she was put in Gryffindor, saying that she couldn’t hang out with them anymore. Hermione had heard her crying herself to bed one night and the very next day wouldn’t leave her side. Despite everything she had been taught about muggle-borns she couldn’t help but see that Hermione was the nicest person she knew. Their friendship was the final straw for her old friends though. From then on most of them would ignore her but some of them would insult her right alongside her new friends.

Hopefully this history wouldn’t present a problem for her mission. After all, it was six years ago. Then again, Slytherins never forget a slight. Being friends with the chosen one, a blood traitor, and a muggle-born was a pretty big offense.

Oh, well. She would worry about that later. For now her main focus was on the tryouts. Everybody was put into two teams. Y/N and Ron were on one team with Harry, Ginny, and a few others while Cormac and the rest were on the other team.

The quaffle was tossed and they were off, Y/N passed it to a teammate, a fourth year she didn't know that well, only for the other team to steal it. She was in the perfect position to steal it back, and she did. Flying straight into Katie, feinting to the side just in time so she could grab the ball without colliding into her.

She raced over to the other side, wind whipping in her face and people from the other team on her heels. As Y/N neared the goal, she pretended to go for one goal, only to go for the other one, barely managing to get it past Cormac.

A few onlookers cheered and Ginny yelled, “Nice one, Y/N!”

She felt a surge of happiness, a grin on her face. Maybe she had a shot.

The scrimmage continued on, the two teams practically tied. The other team was in the lead by a few points, thanks to one of their chasers being really good at getting by Ron. Y/N could tell he was getting disheartened, feeling like he was letting them down with every lost point. Then something odd happened.

Ginny had the quaffle and was being chased by the other team. She soared through the air and slammed it into the goal. McClaggen was right there, in the perfect position to stop it when he suddenly swerved out of the way. A teammate of his asked him what happened but he just looked confused. Weird.

On the next point, Ron surprised everyone by flipping upside down on his broom, using his head to block the ball. Onlookers started to applaud and everybody looked on incredulously, wondering how that actually worked. From that point on it seemed as if he had regained his confidence and all of a sudden they started to catch up to the other team, scoring goal after goal.

In the end they won.

“Okay everybody, the team lineup will be posted in the common room tomorrow morning. Good job, everyone!” Harry announced.

They all walked over to the locker rooms to change out of their quidditch robes.

“Nice playing Y/N! I had no idea you were that good!” Katie said.

“Thanks! I’ve been practicing.”

“Well, it paid off.”

Y/N smiled. Hearing that from Katie Bell, one of the seventh years on the team, who had been playing for Gryffindor for years meant a lot.

Ginny chimed in, “Yeah, you looked good out there.”

“Thanks, you too. You played really well!”

“You’re going to make the team for sure, then all three of us can play together!” Katie exclaimed.

“I hope so.”

The three of them got dressed and headed out, walking out together.

“Hey, Y/N, nice job!” Hermione said, standing up from where she had been sitting, waiting for them to come out.

“Thanks!”

The four girls walked back to the castle, the sky darkening overhead. Some rain started to sprinkle down on them, the breeze suddenly feeling a bit cold. Once they all made it back to the castle, they all hurried up to Gryffindor tower where Ron sat on a couch, Harry on the ground by the fire.

Katie and Ginny went to find their respective friends while Y/N plopped down on the chair next to the couch. Hermione took a seat between the chair and the couch.

“I thought I was for sure going to miss that last one.” Ron mused. “I hope Cormac isn’t taking it too hard.”

Hermione made a sound, drawing all of their eyes onto her.

She shook her head, “Nothing.”

The boys returned to staring at the fireplace, the light of the flames flickering brightly. Y/N however, kept her gaze on Hermione, thinking through everything that happened. Cormac’s sudden movement out of the way had seemed unnatural. Almost as if he had been influenced.

Her friend looked up at her, feeling her gaze. Hermione raised an eyebrow, silently questioning her.

Did you? Y/N mouthed.

Hermione’s cheeks flushed in embarrassment before she nodded.

Y/N chuckled quietly, amused. She knew her best friend could be a bit diabolical but she never expected her to break the rules like this.

“He’s got a bit of a thing for you ‘Mione. Cormac.” Ron said.

Hermione shook her head, picking up a newspaper. “He’s vile.”

They sat there in silence, Ron looking at the flames, Hermione reading the newspaper, Harry reading a book, and Y/N mulling over her plans.

Harry leaned over to show his book to Hermione. “Have you ever heard of this spell? Sectumsempra?”

She sighed, exasperated. “No, I haven’t. And if you had any common sense you would turn it into Professor McGonanagall.”

“Not bloody likely. Why would he?” Ron asked. “He’s top of the class. Slughorn thinks he’s a genius. He’s even better than you Hermione.”

“I wonder whose it is.” Y/N pondered.

“Yeah, is it signed? Can I look?” Hermione asked, grabbing at Harry’s potions book. He snatched it away, standing up.

“No, the binding is fragile.”

Hermione also got up, the newspaper forgotten. “The binding is fragile?” She asked in an incredulous tone.

“Yeah.” Harry kept on backing up, away from her. Y/N watched as Ginny, who had been listening in from where she stood talking with Dean, walked over and grabbed it out of Harry’s unsuspecting grasp. Staying just out of reach of him trying to get his book back, she opened the book.

“The Half-Blood Prince. Who’s the Half-Blood Prince?” She asked.

“Who?” Hermione questioned.

“That’s what it says. Property of the Half-Blood Prince.”

Harry seized the opportunity to get his book back. “No clue.”

They all exchanged puzzled glances while he walked away towards the staircase that led to the boys’ dorms, wondering who that could possibly be. Hermione was probably already planning to head to the library first thing in the morning to figure it out.

Y/N and Hermione said goodnight to Ron and Ginny before walking up the spiral staircase to their dorm. Once inside they walked over to their beds, both of which were on the far end next to each other. The rest of the girls in their year were already getting ready for bed. The two of them never really paid attention to them though. Parvati and Lavender mainly hung out with the Ravenclaws, ignoring the rest of them. Especially after fourth year when Parvati and her sister, Padma, had gone to the Yule Ball with Harry and Ron only to end up ignored.

The only other Gryffindor girl in their year was Lily Moon. Lily was nice, a red-head who was sometimes mistaken for being yet another addition to the Weasleys. She mainly hung out with Neville, the two of them sharing a love for Herbology. While they did sometimes hang out together during class, outside of that they didn’t have much in common with her.

There used to also be one other girl, Sally-Anne Perks, but she left after Cedric’s death in fourth year, never to be heard from again. Her bed remained empty, devoid of any personal touches, unlike the rest of them with their pictures of family, books, jewelry, etc.

Taking a seat on her bed, she looked over at Hermione. “Did you seriously use the Confundus Charm on Cormac so he’d miss that shot?”

“Yeah.” She admitted, sheepishly.

“Wicked!”

Lavender looked over at them, a bit judgemental. Y/N smirked. She still remembered how annoying she had become last year, gushing over Ron. Surprising really, considering how he had acted when he took Padma to the Yule Ball. All three girls had given him dirty looks, along with Y/N and Hermione by association.

After getting dressed for bed, she lay on her mattress waiting for everyone else to be ready so they could turn off the lights. Soon, the only light illuminating the room was from the moon shining through the window. She was feeling a bit anxious, wondering if this was the year that she would finally make it onto the team. After spending the last five years watching Harry play from the stands along with the rest of the team had been fun but she longed to be a part of it. She had always loved flying but, outside of learning how to in first year there hadn’t been many chances except for during the summer when she visited the Weasleys.

Chapter 3>>

[canonicallyobserving911]

“How I hide my true feelings from others.”

Fanonwriter2023 on AO3

Where CANON and FANON collide!

New Buddie Fanfic in the "What do you want?" A Series of Fics and Ficlets

The 5th fic in the "What do you want?" Series in now available on AO3. “How I hide my true feelings from others.” - Buck and Eddie return to therapy but they’re both not telling each other about recent events that happened in their lives. Will they finally have an open and honest conversation before it’s too late?

“How I hide my true feelings from others.”

9.6K Words; Rated: Teen and Up Audiences

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Here's two snippets from part 5. One includes Eddie in therapy with his new therapist and the other is of Buck in his first session with Dr. Copeland in more than 3 years.

___________

Eddie

Dr. Brandon asks, “Why is Buck in your will?”

“Because I know he’ll fight for Chris the same way I do.”

“But you just said Chris left with your parents even though you didn’t want him to, therefore I’m trying to understand. What does Buck mean to you and Chris? I’m asking because he sounds like he’s very important in your lives.”

After a few moments, he explains, “He’s more than my work partner because we have each other’s backs and we’ve been like that since not long after I started at the 118.”

Dr. Brandon doesn’t push him to keep talking, she just patiently waits for him to continue.

“He’s my…” He starts in a low voice but he trails off because he wants to say Buck’s his everything but he doesn’t believe he has the right to use that word. He sure wants it to be but since he isn’t, he won’t. He’s not naïve and he knows he hides his true feelings about Buck from everyone.

~~~

Buck

Dr. Copeland asks, “Does she work at the 118?”

“No but she did for a few months after the Tsunami while I was on medical leave and uh… she was partnered with Eddie.”

She writes down some notes then she flips back several pages and asks, “Are you and Eddie still work partners?”

“We are but…” He responds and he follows it with a loud exhale.

“But what?”

“I think he’s moving on too. Not from the job… well at least I don’t think he is but he’s moving on with his life as he should be but I think I should be focusing on myself like everyone else.” He replies but the words feel like gravel on his tongue because he doesn’t want to ever leave Eddie Diaz. Also, he’s been hiding his overwhelming and all-consuming feelings for him deep down in his heart for years and he’s afraid if he doesn’t go before Eddie makes things official with Chuck, he won’t survive it.

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"What do you want?" - A Series of Ficlets

Currently 5 works completed; 30K Words: Rated; Teen and Up Audiences:  This is a series of “Fics and Ficlets” that I’ll be writing over the course of the next few weeks and my goal is to keep them under a certain number of words. I’m challenging myself to do it this way for multiple reasons but mainly because I want to see if I can write a full Buddie story by including smaller fics in a series in comparison to the multi-chapter fic I’m still in the process of writing titled, “I’m still in love with you but… I needed to learn how to love myself too!” I only have 9 chapters left before I finish it but once I’m done, I’d like to continue writing Buddie fanfics. However, this time I’ll start with my dislike for the way season 7 ended instead of the way season 6 did. Finally, I have a lot of WIPs that I want to finish and I figured I can turn them all into one shot fics or ficlets to build the full story for Buck and Eddie.

Since these ficlets will be posted in order, it’s imperative to read them one after the other. Each part ends at a specific point with a cliffhanger and the next part will begin with the ending of the previous part. Therefore, parts 1 - 4 should be read prior to reading part 5 and the series will continue in that manner until it’s complete.

"You don't know math!" - 3.3K Words; Rated Teen and Up Audiences: Buck is forced to choose while Eddie might be presented with another option.

"Math is a universal language." - 5K Words; Rated: Teen and Up Audiences: Eddie reconnects with an old acquaintance and they spend a lot of time together. However, now that Buck’s single, he finally tries to understand math is a universal language but when he sees Eddie talking to another guy, he wonders if it took him too long to figure it out.

“You know, it’s like that thing when you meet somebody and you just… click.” - 5.1K Words; Rated: Teen and Up Audiences: When Buck comes face to face with Eddie’s new friend; he hates it but since he’s only told Maddie about his breakup with Tommy, Eddie’s still under the impression he’s taken. Therefore, Eddie makes plans to spend even more time with his new acquaintance.

"I can't stop thinking about him." - 8.1K Words; Rated: Teen and Up Audiences: Buck and Eddie are trying to move on but they can’t stop thinking about each other.

“How I hide my true feelings from others.” - 9.6K Words; Rated: Teen and Up Audiences: Buck and Eddie return to therapy but they’re both not telling each other about recent events that happened. Will they finally have an open and honest conversation before it’s too late?

Now Available on AO3

[bupia]

Love letter: Chapter 9 - Cardinal Copia x Fem!Reader

Summary: Hearing that Copia was now the new Papa Emeritus of the ministry made your heart tighten. And now, only one question remained: how could you both stay together, ensuring that Copia didn't meet the same destiny as Terzo?

Words: 17.122

Warnings: This chapter might be a bit painful for most readers. Please trust in the smoothness of the chapter and enjoy the reading. | Angst, fluff & smut (fingering, oral sex; m-f, breeding) | Swearing | Italian swearing

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4| Chapter 5| Chapter 6|Chapter 7 | Chapter 8

A/N: This is the last chapter of Love Letter, and all I can do is thank all of you who have read up to this point. Thank you for every comment, like, and reblog. I have nothing but gratitude for everyone who has made it this far and embraced my story with an open heart. To my loyal readers, I dedicate this chapter to you and to my friends, @terzosprimemover, @new-age-space-age , @anakindoesntlikesand, @quaildoodle, @idawnghoul, Phoenix and Ria, thank you for supporting me and always reading my stories, and for consistently writing a review for each chapter I posted. I'd like to extend a special thanks to someone I met through Love Letter, who has become a big friend of mine and who gave me a gift I will never forget: thank you for your friendship and the amazing art for Chapter 2, @quaildoodle.

"A Papa?" you repeated. "Copia, that's..."

He nodded, a small smile gracing his lips. "It was unexpected, even for me. But it's a new chapter, a new responsibility." He inhaled deeply before continuing. "Unfortunately, Nihil has passed away. So, Imperator reached out to me urgently, calling me back to the Ministry."

"Wait," you took a step back, your eyes widening in surprise. "Nihil is no longer with us? Papa has passed away?" Your voice held a hint of disbelief.

His expression turned somber as he nodded. "Sì, it was quite sudden. I didn't expect it either, but sì, Nihil has passed away. Imperator summoned me back to the Ministry to take on this new role." He paused, his gaze thoughtful. "It's a lot to take in, but it's a necessary transition."

"I can't imagine how this must be for you," you said, empathy evident in your eyes. "Papa passing away, and then stepping into a position of such responsibility."

Copia sighed, his shoulders visibly sagging. "Nihil was... a complicated figure in my life, but," he inhale deeply, collecting his thoughts. "I can't help but feel a sense of sadness at his passing. Despite everything, he was a part of this ministry, and his absence will be felt, sì?"

"I'm sorry for your loss," you offered sincerely.

"Everything is alright, amore. Ma, grazie," he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss onto your forehead.

"Copia... I," you started, your voice hesitant. "If you are a Papa now," you paused, a trace of concern flickering in your gaze.

Copia's smiled gentle as he picked up on your concern. "Don't worry, cara," he reassured you. "I know it's a lot to process, but I've been preparing for this role, and I have the support of many within the clergy."

"That's not it," you sighed, feeling tears brimming in your eyes.

"What's troubling you, amore? Please, share it with me," he implored.

"Copia, if you are a Papa now..." your voice quavered as you paused, using the back of your hand to brush away your tears. "What does this mean for us? What's going to happen to us?"

Copia's expression softened as he saw the genuine worry in your eyes. He took your hands in his, holding them gently. "Amore, nothing will change between us," he said, his voice filled with sincerity. "Yes, my responsibilities have shifted, but my feelings for you remain unwavering. You are and will always be an essential part of my life."

You looked into his eyes, searching for any sign of uncertainty. "But what about the ministry, Copia? The clergy? Will they..."

His thumb gently brushed against the back of your hand. "I won't let anyone or anything come between us, cara."

"Copia, we know what happened to Terzo," you continued, your voice wavering slightly.

"I understand your concerns, amore," he said softly. "Terzo's situation was different. Sister Imperator had her own reasons for targeting him."

"Did she really?" you questioned, taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you continued, "Copia, I... I..." Your words trailed off briefly as you collected your thoughts. "I know that you will be an exceptional Papa."

You couldn't help yourself and tears welled up once more and trickled down your cheeks. You instinctively shielded your face with your hands, the desire to hide your vulnerability from Copia overpowering. You were supposed to be happy, so why were tears staining your cheeks?

Copia's ascent to the role of Papa wasn't something that filled you with sadness; in fact, you were profoundly proud of his accomplishments, acutely aware of the dedication he had as Cardinal. Yet, a shadow of unease lingered. While you were happy for him, you couldn't dismiss the memories of what occurred when Terzo and Ann. Your pride coexisted with the fear of losing him, one you weren't yet prepared to face.

Saying goodbye was the last thing you wanted, just like losing him wasn't an option you were prepared to accept. The weight of uncertainty and potential consequences weighed heavily on your heart. Copia had reassured you that everything would be fine, but deep down, you understood the risks all too well. The happiness that had radiated from his eyes as he said he was a Papa now, contrasted with the fear that now gnawed at your own heart. Staying by his side felt like an impossible choice. The gravity of the situation, the looming danger, it all seemed insurmountable, and you couldn't ignore the turmoil within you.

"Per favore, amore... don't cry," Gently, he guided your hands away from your face, his touch reassuring as he met your gaze with a compassionate smile. "Everything is alright now," his thumb grazed your cheek, tenderly wiping away a tear, "I know it's a lot to take in," he admitted. "But I want you to understand that everything is going to be okie dokie, sì?"

He pulled you close, his arms enveloping you in a warm embrace. As your tears dampened the fabric of his shirt, he held you even tighter. Taking a deep breath, you found comfort in the scent of him, feeling a profound sense of completeness in his arms. Copia was your everything, it was impossible to deny.

"I have no doubt that everything will be fine, Copia, I genuinely am happy and proud for you," you confessed. "But, I can't deny how much this frightens me. My love for you is... I love you so much, Copia."

"Amore mio, ti amo così tanto. Non hai idea di quanto ti ami, di quanto mi preoccupi per te e di quanto desideri essere con te. Capisco le tue paure, ma per favore, lascia che ti assicuri che non c'è motivo di avere paura, lasciami prendermi cura di te, lasciami esserci per te. Cara mia, solo se sapessi cosa hai fatto al mio cuore, se sapessi cosa mi fai provare. Sono così completo quando sono con te," he murmured, his lips brushing against your forehead.

"Copia," you whispered his name, your hands clutching at the fabric of his shirt on his back in a tight hold. "I don't under-"

Copia intervened, his words breaking through as he began to speak. "My love, I love you so much. You have no idea of how much I love you, how much I care for you and how much I want to be with you. I understand your fears, but please, let me assure you that there's no reason to be scared, let me take care of you, let me be here for you. My dear, only if you knew what you did with my heart, if you knew what you make me feel. I'm so complete when I'm with you."

The tears that had welled up in your eyes now flowed freely. "Copia," you whispered again, your voice barely audible as you clung to him.

He held you tighter. "Amore mio, I love you so," he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear.

"I-"

Before you could utter a word, a knock on the door abruptly silenced you. Copia's attention shifted towards the door. You took a step back, your gaze averted from his.

"Sì?" His gaze returned to you briefly, a tender kiss gracing your forehead before he moved toward the main door of the room. "Hold on, amore."

As he reached the door and swung it open, Swiss stood on the other side.

"Papa, the Sister is waiting for you outside."

"Oh! Sì, sì," Copia clasped his hands together. "Eccellente! I'll be there in a minute, Swiss."

Copia closed the door and turned back to you, you offered him a small smile, your conflicting emotions still evident in your eyes. He approached you once more, his fingers gently lifting your chin to meet his gaze.

"I need to get ready for the Black Mass," he whispered and with a gentle lean, he pressed a soft, reassuring peck on your lips.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, your voice barely could be listen. "But I'm not ready, Copia."

"What do you mean, cara?" he asked, murmuring.

You held onto his hand, your fingers intertwining with his as you closed your eyes and released a calming breath. Taking a tentative step forward, your arms encircling his neck as you leaned in. Closing the remaining gap, your lips met his in a wordless, delicate kiss. The sensation of his touch ignited a swirl of emotions within you, a moment of shared intimacy that spoke volumes in its quiet simplicity.

You found yourself unable to contain the tears that welled up. They spilled down your cheeks, and gently dampened his face, causing the edges of his face paint to slowly blur and fade. You pressed your body closer to his, your embrace deepening as the kiss intensified. Copia's hands instinctively sought the warmth of your waist, his touch tender yet possessive. His fingers trailed along your back, a gentle yet firm hold, keeping your body pressed against his.

Your lips parted slightly as you both sought a breath. With a gradual release, you eased away from the kiss, your eyes fluttering open to meet the sight of his closed eyes, his swollen lips and the fading traces of his face paint. His lips brushed against yours, and you couldn't resist but kiss him again.

His hand moved to caress your cheek, brushing away the stray tear before it could fall. Your lips parted slightly, allowing his tongue to slip inside, probing for yours. You met his tongue with your own, swirling around in your mouth, savoring the taste of him. Copia's hands went back to your back, exploring the curves of your backside, his touch soft yet firm.

Once again your lips parted and you let out a heavy sigh, letting the moment after the kiss become a quiet interlude. A suspended breath between you as you studied his features with a depth of attention. Your gaze traced every line of his face, committing the details to memory. Each nuance, each curve.

As your eyes locked onto his, you grappled with a blend of emotions—love, longing, and a bittersweet. The weight of his newfound role as Papa was a looming presence, and the delicate balance between your hearts and the ministry weighed heavily on your mind.

As you withdrew from his embrace, his gaze unwavering as you stepped back from his embrace, your fingers delicately wiping away stray tears.

The truth is, you weren't prepared for what the uncertainties that the future might hold for both of you. But, sharing those concerns with him at this moment was not an option.

You met his gaze, offering a gentle smile. "I'm not ready to join the chapel for the Black Mass. I need to change my clothes, put on my habit. Swiss, I believe that's his name, mentioned it to me."

His brows furrowed with palpable confusion. "Cara..."

You let out a soft chuckle, attempting to stifle the tears that lingered in your eyes. "Can you believe it, Copia? He mistook me for a newcomer!" A hint of mirth graced your voice.

He reached for your arms, pulling you closer to him. "You don't have to change your clothes, you're here with me, sì? He won't trouble you again." his grip on your arms feeling like a soothing anchor.

"No, really, I insist. I don't want to stand out among the siblings in the chapel, especially during your inaugural Black Mass." You replied, your voice firm yet tinged with sadness.

"Cara, you don't have to do it," he implored, his touch gentle as he held your arms.

"I insist," you met his gaze, your eyes reflecting your inner turmoil. "Please, allow me this. Let me go."

With a gentle squeeze of your arms, he reluctantly let go, creating a bit of distance between you. Your gaze shifted to the door, your mind resolute on your decision.

"I will meet you in the chapel," you stated, your voice steady.

Turning your body, you began to walk towards the door, not meeting Copia's eyes as you did. You didn't dare look back, afraid of what you might see in his eyes.

"No, cara, wait, per favore," he pleaded, his hand reaching for your wrist, attempting to stop you.

"I think... You'll need to get your face paint redone. I'm sorry," you managed to say, your voice catching slightly.

You didn't turn to face him and gently pulled your wrist from his grasp, taking a few steps towards the door. With a heavy heart, you opened it and left the room, your footsteps echoing in the main roon as you made your way to the front door of the apartment.

As you stepped through the front door and into the hallway, your eyes fell upon another Ghoul, unmistakably Dewdrop based on his voice and stature. He was engaged in an animated conversation with one of the sisters from the ministry. Their proximity and her flushed cheeks were clearly visible. It wasn't the first time you had witnessed Dewdrop's flirtations with her.

Caught off guard by your sudden appearance, the sister's eyes widened, and she stammered, "Oh! S-Sister! I'm sorry I didn't see you there."

"No need to apologize, sister," you reassured the flustered sister with a warm smile. "Please, carry on with your conversation." Your gaze shifted to Dewdrop, and you raised an eyebrow playfully. "Dewdrop, I see you're keeping yourself busy as always."

Dewdrop grinned, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Well, you know me, always working hard."

The sister's blush deepened, and she looked between the two of you, clearly uncertain how to proceed. "Um, well, it was nice talking to you both. I should, uh, get going."

"Goodnight, Sister Kelly," you said with a nod, offering a small smile.

"G-Goodnight," she managed to respond, quickly stepping back from Dewdrop.

Your attention shifted to the delicate bundle in Kelly's arms, a piece of fabric carefully folded and cradled. Could it be one of Copia's vestments for the impending Black Mass?

"W- Well, if you'll excuse me," she said, glancing at you. "Are you coming, Dewy?" She returned her gaze to him, with a smirk on her lips, before walk towards the Papal apartment.

"Of course," he replied, a playful grin tugging at his lips.

You chuckled softly, shaking your head. "You have quite the effect on her, Dewdrop."

He shrugged casually, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "Just spreading a little Ghoul charm, Sister."

"Is that what you call it?" you teased, your tone light.

Dewdrop chuckled, his gaze meeting yours. "Well, I do try my best."

"I'm sure you do," you replied with a knowing smile. "Just remember, the Papal apartment is that way." You pointed in the direction she had rushed off to.

Dewdrop feigned innocence. "Oh, was she heading there too? What a coincidence."

As Dewdrop playfully saluted you and walked after the sister, you couldn't help but chuckle softly to yourself. With a shake of your head and a small smile still lingering on your lips, you continued on your way.

Your footsteps carried you back to your dormitory, the thoughts in your head echoing louder than before. The weight of the situation seemed to press upon your mind, much like the burden Terzo and Ann had faced. The uncertainty gnawed at you, leaving you to ponder if Copia would suffer a similar fate, losing everything he held dear just for being with you.

The internal struggle between your love for Copia and the fear of putting him at risk weighed heavily on your heart. Closing your eyes, you took a moment to gather your thoughts and find the strength to continue. With a deep breath, you made your way to the stairs. You knew you had to be there for him.

As you continued your walk, the sound of footsteps echoed behind you, steadily drawing nearer. An uneasy feeling settled in, urging you to quicken your pace. You hastened your steps, a sense of urgency pushing you forward as you tried to avoid being seen or followed by anyone.

"Hey! Wait!" The familiar voice of Swiss reached your ears, and you turned to find him approaching.

"You again?" you responded, letting out a sigh.

"Hello again, sister," he greeted you with a friendly smile. "Off somewhere?"

"Yeah, I'm heading back to my dormitory. Need to change my clothes, like you suggested, so I can join the others at the chapel," you explained.

"Ah, gotcha. Figured you were just wandering around," he giggled playfully.

"So, why exactly are you here?" you asked.

"Papa asked me to keep you company," he revealed.

"Make me company?" You raised an eyebrow, surprised by Copia's unexpected request.

Swiss nodded. "Yep, said you might need some company. Not entirely sure why, though..." His voice trailed off as he briefly shifted his attention to a passing sister down the hallway.

"Is there something else you're not saying?"

Swiss hesitated for a moment, his gaze returning to you. "Honestly, no. Just here to keep you company as Papa asked," he replied before turning and hurrying after the sister who had captured his attention.

A soft chuckle escaped your lips as you observed how effortlessly the Ghoul's attention shifted from his assigned task to trailing after you.

"Hello there," he greeted with a friendly smile, coming up from behind. "Need a hand with those books? They look pretty heavy."

Startled by his sudden appearance, the sister turned her attention toward Swiss, her surprise evident as she registered his proximity.

"Um, yes, thank you," she replied, her voice a bit shaky. She handed him a couple of the books, her hands trembling slightly.

Swiss offered her a reassuring smile and took the books from her hands. "Don't worry, I've got you," he said, his tone gentle. "Where are these headed?"

"To the library," she answered, her nerves still apparent.

"Great, I'll make sure they get there safely," Swiss assured her, starting to walk in the direction of the library. "Can I ask your name?"

"I'm Katya," she replied with a soft smile, her eyes lighting up with friendliness. "And what should I call you?"

"I'm Swiss, one of the new Ghouls here," he replied, walking alongside her.

"It's nice to meet you, Swiss," Katya said, her smile growing more genuine. "Are you liking it here at the ministry?"

As they continued walking, you couldn't help but smile at the interaction between them. It seemed like Swiss was quite the charmer, and it was another nice distraction from the thoughts that had been weighing on your mind.

You ascended the stairs and reached the door of your dormitory with a heavy heart. After entering, you shut the door behind you and leaned against it, feeling the weight of your emotions washing over you. Taking a deep breath, tears welled up in your eyes once again.

Feeling isolated in your turmoil, you grappled with the internal struggle. It was a heavy burden to bear, especially when you couldn't confide in anyone around you due to the secrecy of your relationship with Copia. Your friends were absent, leaving you feeling utterly alone in your distress. However, a glimmer of hope flickered as you considered reaching out to someone who might be able to offer guidance and support.

Taking a steadying breath, you lifted your head and wiped away the tears, determined to regain your composure. You knew you had to change your clothes and return to the chapel before Copia's significant moment as the new Papa.

You approached your bed where your luggage was placed beside it. Setting the luggage on the bed, you unzipped it and retrieved your cellphone from one of the pockets. As you dialed a number, you placed the phone to your ear, listening to it ring on the other end.

"Please, please, answer," you whispered anxiously, your heart racing as you waited for someone to pick up.

"Hello?"

"Ann!" you exclaimed, your voice quivering with emotion as tears streamed down your face as you heard her voice.

"What's happening, dear? Why are you crying?" Her concerned tone was evident as she questioned you.

"Ann..." your voice trembled as you called out her name, tears still streaming down your face.

"Oh, sweetheart, what's wrong?" Her voice carried comfort as she tried to soothe you.

"Copia, he..."

"Is Copia okay?" Ann's concern deepened.

"Did something happen to mio fratello?" You heard Terzo's voice joining the conversation.

"Dear, would it be alright if I put the phone on speaker?"

"Yes, please," you managed to say amidst your tears.

"So what's going on at the ministry?" Ann's voice was filled with concern.

You gathered your emotions and took a deep breath before answering, "Copia... He's a Papa now."

A heavy silence hung in the air, and you waited anxiously for their response. After what felt like an eternity, Terzo's voice broke through, "Sorella, did you say Copia is a Papa now?"

"Yes," you confirmed.

"That's incredible news!" Ann's voice was filled with enthusiasm.

"Yes, it is," you replied, your tone softening.

"Wait, sorella, if Copia is a Papa now, what happened to Nihil?" he inquired. "Because he took the lead of the ministry with Imperator after my departure, so what happened?"

"I'm sorry, Terzo," you sighed. "Unfortunately, Nihil has passed away. According to Copia, that was the reason he had to leave abruptly after the wedding."

"Sorella, where are you now?" Terzo's voice held concern.

"I'm in my dormitory. Everyone is in the Chapel."

"Molto bene," he said. "Ora ascoltami, remember when we were talking in the kitchen earlier, before Primo came in? What I was trying to tell you is that we knew Copia was on the verge of becoming a Papa. Secondo and Primo were aware of it, and they knew, we knew. The problem was that beyond us, Imperator also wanted it. We suspect it's because with Copia in charge of the ministry, she could use him to have more influence inside of the ministry, more than she already does."

"Why his own mother would do it to him?" you inquired.

"Because before she's his madre, she's one of the oldest members of the ministry," Terzo explained seriously. "If it weren't for her, maybe the ministry wouldn't even exist. Because of her, Nihil, ascended as a Papa, and then he started to control the ministry, instead of her. He passed the lead of the ministry to his sons, and she always stayed in the shadows."

"So, are you telling me that Copia is a Papa because it was his destiny to be one, and as far as I remember, you three wanted it too, but the main reason he is a Papa now is that Imperator wanted it so she could try to regain power in the ministry?"

"Sì, sorella," Terzo confirmed with a heavy sigh. "It seems like a twisted web of fate and power struggles. Copia becoming a Papa was influenced by various factors, including our own wishes, but Imperator's desire to regain control over the ministry played a significant role. Now that Nihil passed away, she can finally get out of the shadows."

"Where is Copia now, dear?" Ann asked.

"Ann, he's downstairs preparing for the Black Mass," you replied. "I was with him down there, but I came back to my dormitory."

"Listen to me dear," she said. "Take a moment now. Set aside everything else, push aside thoughts of Imperator and the complexities of the ministry. I understand your fear, the tightening in your chest, and the weight on your heart. But remember, I've been through similar emotions. You're carrying the weight of unnecessary guilt, fearing the possibility of losing Copia. Yet, he's chosen to be with you, just as Terzo and I made our own choices. When he accepted the role of Papa, it was also a statement that he's unafraid of what may come. Like Terzo, he's chosen love over fear."

Tears still glistened in your eyes, but Ann's words had a calming effect on you, it provided a sense of comfort in the midst of your fears.

"I know you're feeling overwhelmed right now, but Copia loves you, and if he's chosen to be with you, it means he's willing to face whatever challenges come their way."

"So what am I supposed to do now?"

"First, take a deep breath, dear," Ann advised gently. "What were you planning to do now?"

"I was just about to change my clothes and head to the Black Mass," you replied, your voice tinged with uncertainty.

"So, dear, here's what you're going to do now: change into your habit, head to the chapel, and leave those fears behind. Copia loves you deeply, and he wouldn't have taken on the role of Papa if he were afraid of losing everything for being with you. Trust in his love."

"Alright, I think can do it," you affirmed, but you weren't sure if you could really do it.

"And sorella," Terzo's voice was reassuring. "Don't forget what I told you on the day our family reunited for my dinner at the Papal apartment: it's worth it."

"Thank you, Papa."

"Prego, sorella."

"Bye, dear," Ann said with a hint of smile in her voice. "Please take care of yourself and of your Papa."

"Bye, Ann," you responded with gratitude. "Bye, Papa. Thank you again."

You ended the call and rose from your bed, heading straight to the wardrobe. Opening it, you retrieved your habit from inside, swiftly changing out of your clothes and into the habit. Approaching the mirror, you carefully adjusted the attire, making sure it was properly worn. You got your veil, and tied it snugly around your head, ensuring it was secure and comfortable.

With a last look on the mirror, you left your dormitory and made your way back to the chapel. As you walked down the familiar hallway towards the chapel, each step felt heavier than before. The anticipation and apprehension weighed on you, making the path seem longer than it actually was. Your heart raced, and the echo of your footsteps seemed to reverberate in the corridor, matching the rhythm of your thoughts.

As you arrived the chapel, it was brimming with siblings, much like any other Black Mass that Terzo had conducted. As you scanned the crowd, you couldn't spot your friends from the dormitory, but your mind was preoccupied with your own thoughts and feelings.

Seeking refuge in a quiet corner of the chapel, you settled onto an empty bench, allowing the weight of your emotions to settle over you. The wooden pew beneath you seemed to offer a comforting embrace.

Leaning your head against the chapel wall, you absorbed the delicate melody that signaled the entrance of Papa and the clergy. Your heart raced as you fought to hold back the tears that threatened to spill from your eyes. Closing your eyes seemed tempting, a brief respite from the emotional whirlwind within, but you resisted, determined to remain steadfast during this significant moment. As the music swelled and the atmosphere grew charged with anticipation, you steadied yourself, preparing to witness Copia's grand entrance as the new Papa.

Your anticipation growing with each member of the clergy who entered, walking in a straight line toward the altar. As the last member entered and the doors swung shut, guarded by the vigilant Ghouls, your eyes searched for Copia, your heart pounding with hope and anxiety, eager to catch a glimpse of him, but there was no signal of him.

Your gaze shifted to the altar where the members of the clergy settled into their seats, surrounding the altar. Sister Imperator's deliberate steps drew your attention as she approached the altar, a confident smile adorning her lips. Her observant gaze swept across the congregation, seeming to linger on each sibling in the chapel, as if she were carefully studying their presence and demeanor.

"Good evening, siblings," her voice rang out, infused with a cheerful tone. "As we are all aware, our Papa Emeritus Nihil passed away on Saturday night. With a heavy heart, I share this sorrowful news, but let us gather our strength, for our ministry shall not be without a Papa Emeritus. It is time to turn our gaze toward the future, toward a new era." She said in a composed tone. "I am delighted to be here today to introduce you all to our new Papa Emeritus."

Applause rippled through the congregation, and Sister Imperator's smile remained unwavering. You joined in the applause, while your eyes alternating between her and the entrance.

"Thank you, thank you," she raised her hands with a light chuckle. Her gestures calmed the applause. "In light of recent events that have unfolded within this ministry, the need arose for a fresh perspective, a new Papa who could provide strong leadership. While the previous Papa Emeritus' contributions were significant, the time has come to look forward. Their legacy has laid the foundation, but it is not all that we require. We need a leader who embodies youth, charisma, and stamina. We need a new blood."

The chapel doors swung open, drawing every gaze in that direction. The faint creak of the door sent your heart racing, its sound echoing loudly in your ears. With a deep breath, you tried to steady yourself, knowing that at any moment Copia would step through that very door as the new Papa Emeritus.

"It is with great pleasure that I introduce to you our new Papa!" Her smile widened, exuding confidence. "Papa Emeritus IV, Copia."

As her announcement hung in the air, Copia made his entrance, stepping gracefully through the open doors. Your breath caught in your chest as you beheld him, resplendent in his Papa's vestments. His mitre, adorned with a regal fusion of gold, black, and delicate blue gems, crowned his head. The blue chasuble he wore bore intricate golden symbols woven within elegant black lines, with additional blue gems embellishing the fabric. Over the robe flowed a black cape made of leather and silk satin, with more of those striking golden symbols and gems, while a stole proudly bore the embroidered words "Papa Emeritus IV" along with more symbolic motifs.

Your gaze remained locked on Copia as he made his way to the altar. Sister Imperator gracefully stepped back, yielding the spotlight to him. The chapel was enveloped in a profound silence, a hushed reverence that seemed to hang in the air.

Copia's eyes swept across the siblings, and for a brief moment, your eyes met his. In that instant, the world around you seemed to fade, leaving just the two of you in a timeless connection. His gaze softened as it met yours, causing the feeling that the chapel itself vanished, and it was just you and Copia there, sharing a recognition that spoke volumes without a single word.

As you watched Copia stand before the altar in his majestic Papal robes, a surge of emotions swept over you. He looked truly resplendent as Papa Emeritus IV, every detail of his vestments accentuating his regal presence. Your heart raced, your love for him overwhelming every other thought. In that moment, you realized the depth of your feelings for him. Your love was so profound that you were willing to put his well-being above all else, even if it meant sacrificing your own desires. You understood the potential consequences of your relationship, and you were prepared to love him silently, from afar, if that was what would keep him safe and protect his newfound position.

You offered him a small, supportive smile but, unable to be contained yourself, tears welled up in your eyes. You could see the concern in his eyes, a silent question of whether you were okay. You nodded slightly, wiping away the tears that had gathered in your eyes, offering him a determined yet tender smile.

The conflicting emotions inside you were taking over you, and despite the reassurances from Terzo and Ann, the weight of the potential consequences still gnawed at you. You wanted to believe that everything would be fine, that the love you two felt for each other would withstand any challenges, but the fear of the unknown remained.

Sister Imperator cleared her throat gently, momentarily interrupting the connection between your lingering gazes. Copia shook his head as his eyes shifted from your gaze to the other siblings gathered in the chapel, a small smile gracing his lips as he addressed them.

"Good evening," Copia's voice resonated through the chapel, his words carrying a sense of authority. "Tonight, I stand before you as your new Papa Emeritus."

As you glanced around the chapel, a sense of euphoria emanated from the siblings, their expressions reflecting the joy and approval of seeing Copia elevated to his rightful position. It was a moment of well-deserved recognition, witnessing him stand before the congregation not as a mere Cardinal, but as the revered Papa Emeritus. Copia's gaze returned to you, a softness in his eyes that only you could decipher.

"As we embark on this new chapter," Copia continued, his voice steady and resonant, "let us remember the values that have always guided us—the devotion to our ministry, the strength of our unity, and the unwavering pursuit of enlightenment."

His words were met with a chorus of enthusiastic affirmations and nods from the siblings gathered before him. As he spoke, you couldn't help but feel a surge of pride. Copia's presence commanded attention, his words carrying a weight that seemed to resonate with every corner of the sacred space.

The feeling of pride was genuine within you, but it was still difficult to grapple with the idea that you had to choose between staying with him and putting his position as Papa Emeritus IV at risk, or the second and worse option that made your heart ache at the mere thought – breaking up with him and letting him live his new life as Papa while you would watch and love him from the shadows.

The ceremony continued, each passing minute seemed to stretch into an hour, enveloping you in a sense of timelessness. Avoiding Copia's gaze, you couldn't bear the idea of facing him, it was simply too hurtful. How could you look into the eyes of the man you loved, knowing that you could potentially bring turmoil to his life? The weight of that thought was making it difficult to confront him at that moment.

The ritual, the prayers, and the reverence—all of it felt like a culmination of Copia's new path inside of the ministry. But also, Copia and members of the Clergy shared heartfelt words in memory of Nihil.

Your heart remained entangled in a web of emotions, your thoughts a tumultuous argue between worries and desires. The choices before you seemed daunting: to stay, risking potential complications for Copia yet finding happiness together, or to leave, a decision that might bring sadness but would allow Copia to fully embrace his role as Papa.

Finally, as the ceremony drew to a close, Copia stood once again before the altar, his presence commanding yet serene. The members of the clergy began to rise from their seats, signaling the end of the formal proceedings.

"Before we prepare to depart, let us take a moment to honor the legacy of Papa Emeritus Zero. His unwavering commitment to the ministry and his important role as the face of our congregation spanned many years." Copia's voice echoed through the chapel, a somber yet respectful tone.

The congregation's attention shifted to him, the atmosphere becoming reflective as they collectively honored the memory of Papa Emeritus, Nihil.

"As we approach the conclusion of tonight's Black Mass, I invite Sister Imperator to address you all with her words," Copia announced, gracefully stepping back from the altar to yield the spotlight to Sister Imperator.

Despite the protocol that discouraged leaving before the members of the clergy and Papa Emeritus, your overwhelming emotions urged you to escape the chapel as swiftly as you could. The last thing you wanted was to hear Sister Imperator's words at that moment. You craved solitude, a moment to gather your thoughts away from prying eyes, especially Copia's.

Standing up from the bench, and quietly slipped out of the chapel. The weight of your emotions was too much to bear in that moment, and you sought the solace in your dormitory.

You walked down the corridor, your heart heavy with the weight of your potential decision as you leaned against the cool stone wall. You closed your eyes, taking a moment to center yourself. Copia's ascent to the role of Papa Emeritus was a culmination of his dedication and hard work. You wanted nothing more than to support him, to stand by his side, regardless of the way you would do it.

As you took a deep breath, the sound of footsteps approaching caught your attention. You opened your eyes, meeting the sight of Copia hurrying towards you. Concern etched on his face as he reached you and stopped, his gaze fixed on yours.

His hand gently cupped your face, his fingers tenderly brushing against your cheek as you let out a relieved breath. "Why did you leave the chapel in such a hurry, mia amata? Is everything ok?" he asked, his gaze soft as he glanced at you.

"Copia!? What are you doing here?" you responded, looking around. "If they see us here together..." your voice quivering as tears welled up.

"Amore, shh," he gently cradled your face in his hands, wiping away the tears with his thumbs. "Tell me what's going on. Talk to me."

"Copia, I... I love you deeply, you mean everything to me, and it's just so overwhelming."

"Overwhelming? What happened, amore? Did something go wrong at Terzo's place?"

"N-no," you stammered, turning away your gaze from his. "Nothing happened there, Copia."

"Then what's going on, amore mio? Per favore, let me be here for you," his voice was gentle and comforting.

"I'm so proud of you, Copia," you whispered, turning your gaze back to him. "But I don't want to be the cause of any trouble."

His expression shifted to one of concern, his brow furrowing slightly. "What do you mean? Non capisco, mia amata. How could you cause me trouble?" his eyes locked onto yours, seeking understanding.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you struggled to find the right words. "Copia, I can't bear the thought of losing you, but I also can't bear the thought of you losing everything because of me."

His arms tightened around you, his grip firm yet gentle. "You're not going to lose me," he whispered. "Non ci pensare neanche. And I'm not going to lose anything because of you, sì?"

"It's just... I can't shake this fear," you admitted, your voice muffled against his chest as you held onto him. "I love you so much that I'm scared of anything that could bring you harm."

He pulled back slightly, his fingers lifting your chin so that you met his gaze. "Listen to me, cara. I chose this, I chose you, and I won't let anything tear us apart."

"But, Copia," you began, your voice heavy with concern. "I... I... You might end up facing the same fate as Terzo. I saw the happiness in your eyes when you told me you were a Papa, and the thought of being the reason you could lose everything terrifies me. I don't know if I could ever forgive myself if that happened."

"The happiness in my eyes wasn't solely because I became a Papa," Copia spoke earnestly, his gaze locked with yours. "It was because you were standing right there, before me. You, cara, you are the reason that moment felt so joyful. You're the only thing that truly matters to me, the one I hold dear above all else. Sì, I'm happy to be a Papa, but if I were to wake up tomorrow and find that everything had been taken from me, I'd only wish and pray to our Dark Lord that you remained by my side. I was scared too, amore, scared to accept this new role, but I've come to believe that this is my destiny, and you, you are my unwavering fate."

"Copia," you whispered. "I don't want to hold you back, to be the reason for any struggles you might face."

He placed a finger against your lips. "You're not holding me back, amore. You're the reason I accepted to be a Papa, the reason I felt confident to accept it. I can face any challenge as long as you're by my side."

Tears welled up in your eyes again, but this time they were tears of love. "I don't want to lose you, Copia."

He brushed his thumb against your cheek, wiping away a tear. "And you won't, cara. I promise you that."

Gathering your thoughts, you took a deep breath and gently removed his hands from your face. Closing your eyes briefly, you mustered the courage to speak. Another deep breath followed before you opened your eyes, locking gazes with him.

"I love you, Copia," you began, your voice tinged with emotion, "but..." You paused, gathering your courage to continue. "I'm afraid that we can't be together anymore."

Copia's expression shifted from one of tender affection to one of shock and disbelief. His brows furrowed slightly, his eyes searching yours for any sign that he had misheard you.

"What do you mean, amore?" His voice carried with confusion and concern, his grip on your hands tightening slightly.

You took another steadying breath, feeling the weight of your decision pressing heavily upon you. "I mean that... I'm sorry, I- I... Copia... with your new role as Papa Emeritus, our relationship... I don't want to put you in any potential danger."

A profound sadness flickered in Copia's eyes, his grip on your hands slackening as if he had been physically struck. "But... why?" His voice held a tinge of vulnerability.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked at him, your heart aching with the pain of your words. "Copia, I love you more than words can express, and I believe in you and your calling. But being with you, loving you openly, it puts you in danger. We've seen what happened to Terzo, and I can't bear the thought of anything happening to you."

He stood there, his gaze locked onto yours, absorbing your words as if trying to process the implications. "Amore," his voice trembled, "I- I can't just... I can't let you go."

The tears spilled over, streaming down your cheeks as you cupped his face in your hands once more. "Copia, please understand. This decision, it's not because I don't love you. It's because I love you too much. I can't bear the thought of being the cause of any harm that comes your way."

Copia's eyes glistened with his own unshed tears, his hands coming up to gently cover yours on his face. "You're not causing harm, amore. Stop saying it, per favore, I can't imagine my life without you in it."

The weight of your decision pressed heavily upon you, the pain of letting go warring with the love you felt for him. "I know this is agonizing, Copia. But I truly believe it's the right thing to do. For you, for me, and for the ministry."

His shoulders sagged slightly, the weight of your words settling in. "I can't deny how much I love you," he admitted, his voice breaking. "But... I won't let you do it, sei l'amore della mia vita." His arms wrapped around you in a tight embrace.

Tears blurred your vision as you held him tighter, his words washing over you like a balm for your aching heart. "Copia..."

He pulled back slightly, his hands cupping your face as he gazed into your eyes with a fierce determination. "I can't lose you, not like this. No, amore, I won't let it happen."

"Copia, I don't want anything to happen to you. I'm terrified of putting you in danger."

He wiped away a tear from your cheek, his thumb lingering against your skin. "And I'm terrified of the thought of being without you."

You lowered your gaze. "But the ministry... your role..."

Copia's fingers tilted your chin, urging you to meet his eyes again. "Listen to me," he said firmly. "I'll do whatever it takes to protect you and our love, while fulfilling my duties," he declared. "We'll be discreet, we'll be cautious, but we won't let go of what we have."

"But what if you..." you began, your voice soft and uncertain, but Copia gently placed a finger on your lips, stopping your words.

"If my fate is the same as mio fratello," he continued, his voice resolute, "I would consider it an honor to have been a Papa Emeritus."

"Copia, I..." you began, your voice wavering, but he held your gaze.

"There is nothing in this world that holds a greater place in my heart than you," he declared earnestly. "You are my purpose, my cherished one. Just as I was destined to become a Papa, I believe that our paths were meant to intertwine. I want you by my side, not just for today or tonight, but for every moment that lies ahead. From the day we met, you have shown me love and compassion, and it is the most precious lesson I've ever learned."

"I love you, Copia," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. "I love you so much, and I'm sorry for even considering the thought of leaving you. It's just that... I love you so much that I wouldn't even twice about your safety and happiness."

"And I love you, more than anything," he whispered, his voice soothing. "I understand your fears, cara. There's no need to apologize, but please know that I am here for you, and I won't let anything come between us."

You heart fluttered at his words, your eyes widening as he leaned down and kissed you tenderly. His lips parted beneath his, your tongue meeting his in a kiss that was filled with passion and need. Your hands moved up to tangle themselves in his hair, causing his mitre to fall on the floor. His hands slid down your sides, coming to rest on your hips as he drew you closer. The kiss continued, growing more intense as the passion between you two grew.

Copia gently broke the kiss, a tender smile gracing his lips as he pulled back. A soft chuckle escaped your lips as you noticed the smudge of black paint on his lips. Copia's eyes twinkled with realization as he looked down at you, a playful grin tugging at his lips when he saw your own lips painted with a mixture of black and white.

Leaning in, you pressed a gentle peck to his lips. Your fingertips traced a delicate path from his hair to his face, your touch tender as you stroked his cheeks. Copia's eyes fluttered closed, a sigh escaping his lips as his arms enveloped you, drawing you into a tight and comforting embrace. You closed your eyes, surrendering to the warmth of his embrace, finding solace in his comforting hold.

As you leaned against Copia's chest, you could feel the steady beat of his heart beneath his vestments. Copia's lips brushed against your forehead, a tender gesture that sent a shiver down your spine. His touch was both gentle and passionate and with every caress, every stolen kiss, it was as if you were reaffirming your love.

"I don't want to lose you, Copia. I love you so much," you whispered.

"The only way you could lose me is if you really leave me, but I would still fight for you, for our love, for us. And even if I couldn't change your mind, I would never stop fighting for us," he replied. "So please, never, never say you want to leave me, never again."

You gazed into his eyes, a soft smile gracing your lips. In return, he looked at you, mirroring the smile with his own. You leaned in and pressed your lips against his, pouring all your emotions into the kiss. The weight of your decisions, the intensity of your love, and the promise of a shared future all converged in that passionate kiss. Copia responded with equal fervor, his arms tightening around you as he deepened the kiss. Each brush of his lips against yours sent sparks of electricity through your veins, igniting a fire that had burned since the moment you two met. He was the love of your life, you were the love of his life and nothing could change it.

"Excuse me, Papa," a known voice coming from behind Copia interrupted your kiss.

Your lips slowly parted, leaving a bittersweet sense of emptiness as the kiss came to an end. Your heart yearned for more, your face almost instinctively leaning toward his for another touch, but the sound of the voice behind Copia brought you back to reality. He gently withdrew his arms from around you, turning his attention toward the source of the interruption.

"Sì, Aether?" Copia responded.

"My little Cardi," Sister Imperator's voice reached your ears, accompanied by Aether's presence. Her gentle smile contrasted with the annoyance in her tone. "What is happening? You left the chapel in haste, not even staying for what I had to say. The members of the clergy are quite bothered by it."

"I had pressing matters to attend to," he explained, his voice steady.

Sister Imperator's gaze shifted from Copia to you, her smile dimming slightly. "I see," she remarked before focusing her attention back on Copia, her smile returning. "I believe you should come with me now, Cardi. We need to provide the clergy with a suitable explanation for your sudden departure from the chapel that doesn't involve..." Her gesture with her hands indicated towards you. "...your inappropriate rendezvous."

"My what?" Copia's tone turned more serious as he questioned Sister Imperator.

She shook her head with a knowing smile. "Oh, Copia. We are well past the time for playful interactions with Sisters of the ministry."

Copia's hand reached behind him, holding your waist and pulling you closer to his back. His voice was laced with anger as he demanded, "Repeat that."

Sister Imperator shifted her gaze away from the two of you and turned to the Ghoul, Aether. "Aether, could you please excuse us?" she said in a soft tone.

Aether nodded, excusing himself before he turned and walked down the hallway in the direction of the chapel.

"What about you, darling? Why don't you go back to the chapel or to your dormitory to meet with your friends?" she inquired, looking at you.

"She is not going anywhere, Imperator." Copia stood out.

She slightly shrugged, taking a deep breath. "Well, Cardi, is up to you," she said with a hint of annoyance in her tone. "Anyway, what I was trying to say," she began, taking a step closer and gently cupping Copia's face with one hand, "is that now you hold the esteemed position of Papa Emeritus, there's no more time to engage in casual encounters with Sisters from the ministry. It's crucial to shift your focus to what truly matters now. Please, come with me, my son."

"I'm not going anywhere with you." Copia's tone was firm, his eyes narrowing with determination as he spoke.

He stepped back slightly, his hand still protectively holding onto your waist. The exchange between Copia and Sister Imperator seemed to intensify, an unspoken tension hanging in the air.

Sister Imperator's smile remained, but there was a glint of something else in her eyes—something that hinted at a deeper power dynamic at play. "My little Cardi, you have a duty now, a responsibility to the ministry. You must set an example for the others, especially now that you are Papa Emeritus."

Copia's grip on you tightened, his resolve unshaken. "My duty and responsibility are not in question. But my personal life is not up for debate or interference."

Sister Imperator's expression hardened slightly, and she lowered her hand from his face. "Very well. But I hope you also understand the gravity of your new role. The eyes of the ministry are upon you, and every action you take will be scrutinized."

"By who?" he inquired.

"By all of us," Imperator responded, her gaze steady and serious.

Copia's eyebrows furrowed slightly, his gaze narrowing as he processed Sister Imperator's words. "Come with me, amore," Copia's hand left your waist reaching for your hand, his fingers gently entwining with yours.

You held his hand firmly, curiosity tugging at you. "Where are we going, Copia?"

He didn't reply but quickened his steps, attempting to move away from Sister Imperator. He got his mitre from the floor as he passed by it. However, she managed to reach his arm and stop him. He turned his face to her, annoyance evident in his expression.

"Cardi, please," she began with a sigh. "Now is not the time to act like a child."

Copia's grip on your hand tightened, and he turned his body toward Sister Imperator. His gaze grew intense, and you could sense the tension in his demeanor. Feeling his gloved hand growing warmer, you responded by holding onto his hand firmly. He glanced at you over his shoulder, a warm smile passing between you, before he returned his attention to Sister Imperator.

"Please, my son," she pleaded, her voice filled with a hint of desperation.

"I'm tired of your demands, mother," Copia replied, his tone firm and resolute. "You got rid of Terzo thinking it would grant you your desires, positioning me in authority. You believed you could manipulate me as you always have, throughout my entire life. You imagined I would become your puppet once I got the Papa role, but guess what? I am no longer your puppet. I am Papa. I am Papa Emeritus IV. And I shall not submit. I shall not yield. I shall not follow commands. You made your move to get rid of my brother and before you could take action against the others, they opted to leave the ministry, because we comprehend, all too well, what you are capable of. I do not bow to your commands, it is you who bends to my will. And mark my words, mother, I will bear the consequences of my choices independently. Yet, I doubt they will remove me from my role as Pope. They only did so with Terzo because you succeeded in persuading them that he wasn't living up to his obligations, isn't that right?"

"I- I don't understand what you're saying, my little Cardi."

"What I'm saying, mother," he released your hand, placing his mitre on his head. "I'm not your 'little Cardi', anymore. I now stand as Papa Emeritus IV."

Copia held your hand once again, and before Sister Imperator could reply him, he led you through the hallways of the ministry, your hand securely nestled in his.

The walk to the Papal apartment was a quiet one, the soft shuffle of your footsteps harmonizing with the steady rhythm of your heartbeat. The corridors seemed to pass in a blur, and before you knew it, you found yourself standing before the front door of the Papal apartment.

A group of Ghouls stood before the entrance to the Papal apartment, their presence almost like a guard of honor. Copia's expression remained serious as he addressed them, his voice firm yet respectful.

"Per favore," Copia began, "leave us alone for now."

The Ghouls complied, stepping aside to create a path for you both. Copia opened the front door, and you followed him into the Papal apartment. The door closed behind you with a soft click as Copia swiftly guided you through the apartment, making his way to the master suite.

"Copia..." your voice was soft.

You continued to follow him until you both were inside the suite. He wasted no time, swiftly closing the door behind you and before you could utter another word, he turned towards you, his arms wrapping around you in a tight and comforting embrace. You could feel the subtle trembling of his body. You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to fully feel his presence. Your hands gently traced his back. His grip tightened slightly, as if he was trying to anchor himself in the comfort of your embrace. You felt his lips press against the crown of your head, a tender gesture that conveyed a world of emotions.

"Cara," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I..." he started, but quickly, tears welled up in his eyes, spilling down his cheeks.

"Is ok, Copia... We don't need to talk right now," you whispered back.

His embrace tightened further as if he wanted to hold onto this moment indefinitely. The silence that enveloped you both was comfortable, a space where words weren't necessary to convey the depth of your emotions.

"I... I can't believe I actually said all that, cara." Copia murmured, his voice filled with disbelief and relief.

You reached up and placed a soothing hand on his cheek, your touch a gentle reassurance. "Shh, Copia, it's okay. You were brave, and I'm proud of you."

He let out a sigh, his arms still wrapped around you, holding you close. "But what if it doesn't work out? Amore, what if my words lead to unexpected consequences?" His brows furrowed in worry as he looked down at the floor.

"Hey," you murmured, tilting his face up to meet your gaze. "You took a bold step today, and I believe in you. We'll face whatever comes together, Copia."

Copia's eyes met yours. "I'm just... scared, cara. Scared for what's to come."

"I know, but you're strong. We'll face it one step at a time." Your thumb gently brushed against his cheek, wiping away a stray tear. "And no matter what, I'll be here by your side."

Copia's lips curved into a small, appreciative smile. "I couldn't let her talk to you like that, or about you," he held you even closer. "And I'm so tired, amore, so tired of being her puppet."

"You're not alone in this anymore, Copia." Your eyes met his, and you spoke with utmost sincerity. "You're no longer a puppet of Sister Imperator, you made it very clear, you're the Papa Emeritus of our ministry now and she have to respect you as such."

"I don't deserve you, amore," he whispered.

"You deserve all the happiness, Copia," you replied firmly. "And I'll do my best to help you find it," you gently wiped away the remaining tear tracks on his cheeks.

Copia gently pulled back, his hands cupping your face as he looked into your eyes. His thumb brushed against your cheek as he leaned down, his lips capturing yours in a tender kiss. His lips met yours in a gentle, lingering kiss. As the kiss deepened, you felt a rush of sensations—the sweep of his tongue against yours, the gentle press of his body against yours, the soft sighs exchanged between you.

Slightly, he pulled away from the kiss and rested his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours. "Ti amo," he whispered, his voice a breathless murmur.

"I love you too," you whispered.

Copia's chuckles filled the room, nervousness and relief evident in his laughter. You looked at him with surprise and amusement.

"Copia!" you exclaimed, your eyes widening. "Are you... laughing?"

He nodded, his chuckles continuing. "I am! I mean, I'm nervous, but I can't help I... I can't believe I actually said all of that to Sister Imperator."

"Well, you did great," you said, a proud smile gracing your lips.

Copia's laughter subsided, replaced by a tender gaze. "Grazie, amore." He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

With a tender touch, you carefully lifted the mitre from Copia’s head, his hair fell in gentle waves, framing his face. You set it down on the side table near the door. As you turned back to him, you couldn’t help but admire the sight of him without the regal headdress.

Copia met your gaze with a small smile. "You know, I never thought I'd have some bella sorella who would willingly remove my mitre for me."

You chuckled softly, your fingers brushing against his cheek. "Well, consider it one of the perks of being with me."

He leaned in, his lips brushing against your forehead. "I'm grateful every day that I chose you to be my assistant."

"Me too," you whispered. "But, Copia, I'm wondering about my role now. With you being Papa, I assume you won't need an assistant anymore, right?"

Copia nodded, a small smile forming. "You're right, amore. My responsibilities have shifted. However, I think it's time for you to have a new position, maybe even a promotion."

"A promotion?" you asked, your brow furrowing in confusion.

"Sì, exactly," he affirmed with a grin. "A promotion, cara." Taking your hand in his, he pressed a soft kiss on your fourth digit. "All that's left is a ring, sì?"

"A- A what?" you stammered, your cheeks flushing as you registered his words.

Copia's face turned slightly redder as he stumbled over his words. "Eh! I-I apologize, amore. I... I think... Uh... I may have jumped the gun a bit there. Mi dispiace, cara, I..."

"Copia! It's okay," you reassured him with a soft chuckle, holding his hand gently. "You know, when the right time comes, I would definitely say yes, right?"

"Would you?" he looked at you, surprised.

"Absolutely, my dear Papa," you replied with a gentle smile.

"Oh, amore," he growled, looking at you. "Say it again," he murmured, his fingers brushing against your cheek.

A shiver of anticipation ran down your spine as his touch sent a delightful tingle through your skin. With a soft smile, you obliged, your voice a gentle whisper, "Papa."

Copia's grin widened, and a mischievous glint danced in his eyes. "Papa, sì?" he repeated, his tone playful and teasing.

You couldn't help but chuckle, shaking your head. “Yes, Papa.”

He feigned a dramatic sigh, his fingers continuing their tender caress on your cheek. "Well, if I had known that's all it takes to hear such sweet words, I might have become a Papa even sooner."

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Oh, please, Copia.”

He laughed, his arms encircling your waist and pulling you closer to him. “Okie dokie. I’ll try to contain my newfound Papa ego. But you love me, right?"

You looked up at him with a mockingly stern expression. "Maybe."

Copia grinned, his lips dangerously close to yours. "Eh!? Maybe? Well, I'll just have to work on winning over that 'maybe' then."

Your heart fluttered, and you couldn't help but give in to the laughter that bubbled up. "You're incorrigible sometimes, Copia."

He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a tender kiss. "And you're mine, cara."

You leaned your forehead against his, your breaths intermingling. "You know," you whispered, "being a Papa suits you."

Copia's thumb brushed against your cheek, his touch gentle. "Does it, cara?"

"Mm-hmm," you hummed, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "You've always had that air of authority about you, even before this."

He chuckled, his eyes locking with yours. "Well, I'll take that as a compliment, then."

"It was meant as one," you assured him, your fingers tracing soothing circles on his back.

Copia's arms tightened around you, pulling you into a warm embrace. "I'm just glad you're here with me, through all of this."

"Always," you whispered, nuzzling against his chest.

A peaceful silence settled between you two, the unspoken bond of love and support stronger than ever. The weight of your worries seemed to lift, replaced by a sense of hope. With a contented sigh, you closed your eyes, savoring the warmth of Copia's embrace and the comfort of his presence.

"I believe it's time to shed these robes and indulge in a relaxing bath," he mentioned, a hint of amusement in his tone. "Especially since this face paint requires some attention."

You nodded, a playful grin dancing on your lips. "Sounds like a good plan. Wouldn't want your new robes to get stained already."

Copia chuckled, giving you a light squeeze before releasing you from his embrace. "I'll be quick, amore. Don't miss me too much."

You chuckled in response. "I'll try not to. Go on, Papa. Enjoy your bath."

With a wink, he turned and headed towards the bathroom, his confident steps echoing through the room.

"Amore," he cleaned his throat before starting speak. "Would you care to join me?"

A mischievous smile tugged at your lips as you considered his invitation. "Well, I wouldn't want you to feel lonely in there."

Copia turned back to you, a playful glint in his eyes. "Eh!? Lonely? Oh no, I wouldn't dare be lonely with such esteemed company."

Chuckling, you approached him and reached out to take his hand. "I'll be honored to keep you company."

A mischievous glint danced in his eyes as he grinned, giving your hand a gentle squeeze before leading you both towards the bathroom. Once inside, the door left ajar, Copia began the process of undressing himself. You leaned against the sink, your gaze intently following each piece of his robe as it gracefully descended to the floor.

Your eyes remained fixed on him, drinking in the sight of his unclothed form as each piece of fabric fell away. Copia shifted his gaze towards you, his eyes locking onto yours as he walked towards you.

A soft chuckle escaped Copia's lips as he closed the distance between you, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Amore, you need to undress yourself too," he playfully reminded you, his fingers brushing against yours as he reached out to help with the task.

Copia's hands were gentle as they reached for the fabric of your habit, carefully pulling it over your head and letting it fall to the floor. His fingers then moved to the knot of your veil, deftly untying it and setting it aside on the floor. Copia's touch was tender as his fingers traced along your back, reaching for the clasp of your bra. He skillfully undid it, his movements slow and deliberate as he carefully removed the garment, setting it aside with a gentle reverence. The last piece of clothes you were wearing, made Copia fell on his knees in front of you. His hands went to the waistbands of your panties while he gently pulled them down, while pressing soft kisses along your thighs.

He lifted his head, staring at you. "Aren't you the most beautiful woman in the whole world?"

A blush tinged your cheeks at his words, and you smiled softly. "Flattery will get you everywhere, Copia."

Copia chuckled, his fingers brushing against your thighs. "I mean it, cara. There's just something about you that takes my breath away."

You reached out, your fingertips tracing a pattern on his cheeks. "And you, Copia, have a way with words."

He approached his face from your core, his lips brushing against your inner thighs. "Only when I'm speaking from the heart."

He rose from his kneeling position and walked over to the bathtub, his fingers deftly turning the water on. He carefully adjusted the temperature, his gaze focused on the stream of water as it began to flow.

"Okie dokie, I think I've got the temperature just right for a warm and comfortable bath," Copia announced, turning back to you with a grin. "Shall we?" He extended a hand towards you.

"Yes," you nodded, a soft smile playing on your lips.

Taking his hand, you walked towards the bathtub and stepped inside, lowering yourself down onto the floor of the tub. The warm water embraced you, and you sighed contentedly. Copia shifted, maneuvering himself to sit in front of you in the bathtub. He let out a contented sigh, his body visibly relaxing as he settled into the warm water.

You watched him, a soft smile tugging at your lips as you observed the tension easing from his shoulders. Without hesitation, you moved closer, sitting between his legs and leaning back against his chest. Your head found its place on his shoulder, fitting perfectly in the curve of his neck. The comforting warmth of the water enveloped you both as you rested against him, feeling the steady rhythm of his breath against your skin.

"Copia, can I ask you something?" you inquired, your fingers playing with a strand of your damp hair.

"Of course, amore mio," he replied, his eyes soft as he looked at you.

"Why... Why doesn't the clergy allow Papas to get married? What's the issue with it?" you asked, your gaze searching his.

"It's not a strict rule, actually," he explained, leaning his head against yours.

"What? But wasn't that the reason Terzo was removed from his position?"

A chuckle escaped Copia's lips as he shook his head. "No, amore," he said, his fingers idly tracing a path on your shoulder. "Papas are allowed to have partners. What happened with Terzo is that Imperator convinced the clergy he was too focused on his marriage and not effectively leading the ministry anymore, which led to his removal."

"So, all this time, we could have been together?"

"Sì, technically," he nodded, a small smile gracing his lips. "But I was hesitant. I know what Imperator is capable of, not just in terms of affecting my role, but also what she could do to you."

"What do you think she could've done to me, Copia?"

He hesitated for a moment before responding, his voice soft. "I prefer not to dwell on such thoughts, cara."

You nodded in agreement, letting out a sigh. "Yes, I think I'd rather not dwell on it either."

The conversation took a lighter turn, and you continued, "So, anyway, Terzo and Ann could continue being a married couple at the ministry, and Terzo could still fulfill his role as a Papa?"

Copia nodded, his fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on the surface of the water. "Sì, just like Secondo."

"What!?" you exclaimed in surprise, turning your face towards him. "Secondo is married?"

He chuckled, his chest vibrating against your back. "Sì, he is. He got married a long time ago to a woman named Margaret. She's not from the ministry, and mio fratello met her a long time ago during a tour, but I'm not quite sure how. You should’ve seen him when he met her. It was practically written all over his face that he was in love. But, you know Secondo – he wouldn’t let anyone bring up the subject, not even himself. It was as if he wanted to keep it all to himself, hidden away.” He grinned, a playful light dancing in his eyes. “All I know is that they fell for each other, and eventually, they got married.”

"Wow, I had no idea," you admitted, amazed.

"Most people don't. Secondo preferred to keep his personal life more private," Copia explained. "But now you know."

"But wait," you furrowed your brows. "She wasn't at the wedding, was she?"

Copia let out a soft chuckle, his arms encircling you in a gentle embrace. "No, she wasn't. Secondo and her have always chosen to lead a quieter life outside the ministry. After their marriage, Secondo moved from the Papal apartment to live with her in a different place, ignoring the fact that he was still a Papa. She's an astronomer, quite busy with her work, which makes attending ministry events a challenge. She often becomes deeply absorbed in her projects, but that doesn't seem to trouble Secondo. In fact, I think my brother greatly admires her intelligence and dedication. It was those qualities that drew him to her in the first place, and ultimately made him fall in love with her. It's quite funny to recall the day we found him studying astronomy at the library of the ministry, as if he understood every word he was reading. It was all in an effort to impress her."

You nodded, a thoughtful expression on your face. "It's nice that they were able to find happiness outside of all this."

"Sì, it is," Copia agreed, his arms holding you a little tighter. "And it gives me hope that we can find our own happiness too."

You gave him a soft smile, pressing a kiss on his cheek. "Ok, but what about Primo?"

"Well, Primo's situation is a bit more complicated," Copia explained. "Mio fratello didn't really have the opportunity to pursue romantic love. Unfortunately, from the time he was born, the clergy had already earmarked him as the next Papa Emeritus. He was always focused on his future role and he also took on responsibilities, like looking after us. As Primo advanced through the ranks within the ministry, his attention was solely on the day he would become a Papa. This dedication, I believe, made him distant from the idea of finding romantic love."

"Wow, that's... really sad," you remarked.

"Sì, amore," Copia agreed with a hint of sadness in his voice. "Primo's life has been quite different from the rest of us. He's always been so dedicated to his role, and I think he's missed out on many things because of it."

"I can't imagine what that must be like," you mused, your fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on his thighs.

"It's a heavy burden, cara," Copia sighed. "But I hope, for his sake, that he can still find some happiness, even if it's not in the way he originally envisioned."

"I believe he did, I'm certain of it," you whispered, a gentle smile gracing your lips as you gazed at him.

"Now, may I ask you a question, cara?" Copia inquired, his wet hands gently brushing against your hair, leaving droplets of water in their wake.

"Of course, Copia," you replied, looking at him with curiosity as his wet hands brushed against your hair.

Copia’s fingers paused in your hair, and he looked at you. "You didn't look surprised about Sister Imperator referring to me as her 'son' and me calling her 'mother'. Who told you about that?" he inquired with a curious tone.

"Oh!" You exclaimed in surprise. "Oh... It was Secondo."

"Secondo!?" He sounded taken aback. "Not Terzo?"

You let out a hearty laugh, shaking your head. "No, not Terzo. It was Secondo. But don't worry; he was trying to comfort me."

"Comfort you?" Copia inquired, raising an intrigued eyebrow.

"Yes, because of last night. So he was trying to be kind and explain some things I didn't know, and that's when he mentioned it," you replied, tracing patterns in the water with your fingertips.

"Oh, cara, I'll never forgive myself for leaving after..." he paused, gesturing with his head. "You know, after we have done it."

"Is okay, Copia. I forgive you, and I know that there was a purpose for you to leave," you reassured him with a gentle smile. Concern laced your voice as you continued, "But Copia... what do you think is going to happen with us now? With you?"

"I honestly have no idea, but you know what? I don't want to dwell on it right now," he sighed. "What I do know is that I love you, and no matter what comes our way, I'll always be right by your side." He offered his reassurance. "And don't you worry about the clergy or mia madre. I'll handle them, and things will work out, okie dokie? Let's let the future unfold and see where it takes us."

You nodded in agreement. "You're right, Copia. Let's see where the future takes us."

Copia leaned closer, his lips brushing against yours in a tender, affectionate peck. His hand cradled your face, his touch bringing a sense of comfort and relief as your mouths met.

"Now, shall we finish our bath and return to the bedroom?" Copia murmured, his lips barely brushing against yours.

"Please," you replied in a soft whisper.

As you both agreed to finish your bath and return to the bedroom, the warm water enveloped your bodies, you took turns assisting each other with washing. Copia tenderly lathered shampoo into your hair, his strong fingers massaging your scalp, creating a soothing sensation that made you close your eyes in contentment letting an yawn escape your mouth. In return, you carefully cleansed his face, wiping away the intricate face paint to reveal his bare, unadorned features.

You could look at his face for hours, admiring his wrinkles etched at the corners of his eyes and around his mouth. His eyes held a captivating depth, their mismatched color a captivating blend of tenderness and wisdom. His strong jawline exuded confidence and determination, while a few salt-and-pepper strands in his hair revealed the passage of time. The faint lines on his forehead spoke of moments of contemplation, a sign of the responsibilities he had shouldered as a member of the clergy. Despite the marks of age, his features exuded a magnetic charm that was hard to resist, and his face held a certain allure that drew you in, making it clear why he had captured your heart.

As you two finished the bath, Copia gently helped you stand up in the warm water. He stood up from the bathtub as well, his tall frame towering over you. He reached for a nearby towel, wrapping it around his waist before extending a hand to you. You accepted his hand with a smile, the touch of his fingers sending a jolt of warmth through your body.

"Are you tired, amore?" Copia asked.

"Just a little bit, Copia. I managed to sleep in the car on my way back to the ministry." You replied, reaching up to brush a strand of hair away from his forehead.

Copia's fingers gently traced the curve of your hips. "I'm glad you got some rest, cara. But if you're feeling tired, maybe we should get some sleep now. You're always welcome to rest by my side."

You nestled closer to him, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. "That sounds perfect, Papa."

Copia groaned with a mischievous smile on his lips. "I really like the way you call me as Papa."

You chuckled softly, the sound echoing in the bathroom. “Well, get used to it, Papa, because you’ll be hearing it a lot more from now on.”

You chuckled softly as you noticed Copia’s cheeks turning an even deeper shade of red. He grabbed another towel, gently drying your body with careful and deliberate motions. His touch was soothing, each stroke of the towel a caress that made your heart flutter. His bashful reaction was utterly endearing, and you couldn’t help but tease him a little more.

“Aw, Papa, look at you, all blushing and cute.”

Copia cleared his throat, trying to regain some composure, though his playful smile betrayed his embarrassment. “Well, I can't help myself.”

You leaned in closer, your lips almost brushing against his ear. “Maybe I should call you ‘Papa’ more often, if it makes you react like this.”

His laughter rumbled through his chest, vibrating against you. “I don’t think my heart can handle it, cara.”

“Is that a challenge, Papa?” you whispered playfully, your fingers tracing circles on his chest.

Copia’s gaze met yours, and he leaned in to capture your lips in a soft, lingering kiss. “You’re going to be the death of me, diavoletta,” he murmured against your lips.

You giggled. “Well, then let’s make sure we have plenty of time together before that happens, Papa.”

Chuckling, Copia’s eyes danced with a playful glint as he looked at you. “Are you teasing me by calling me ‘Papa’ again, amore?” he quipped, a mischievous smile tugging at his lips. “Vieni, let’s make our way back to the bedroom.”

Copia discarded his towel and extended his hand towards you, his fingers beckoning you to join him. You couldn’t help but smile in response to his playful demeanor. Taking his hand, you allowed him to guide you back towards the bedroom. You couldn’t help but smile in response to his playful demeanor. Taking his hand, you allowed him to guide you back towards the bedroom, leading you to the bed while the soft glow of the bedroom's lights welcomed you, casting a warm and inviting atmosphere.

"Amore, you're really the most beautiful woman I've seen in my whole life and I can't get enough of you." Copia murmured.

He pulled you closer, his arms encircling your waist as you felt the mattress beneath your legs, its softness inviting you to sink into its embrace.

"You have a way of capturing my gaze and holding my heart," he continued, his fingers tracing delicate patterns along your skin. "Every curve, every smile, it's all etched in my memory."

His fingers gently brushed a strand of hair away from your face, his touch as light as a feather. Copia's lips found yours, a slow and sensual kiss that deepened with every passing second. Your hands roamed his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart beneath your touch. With a gentle push, he guided you to lie back on the bed, his movements fluid and deliberate. His hands moved with purpose with a practiced yet gentle touch. Copia’s hands traced a path along your body, leaving a trail of tingling sensations in their wake. His fingers danced across your curves, mapping the contours of your form.

Copia’s lips continued their exploration, leaving a path of heated kisses along your neck and shoulders. His lips followed the path his hands had taken, trailing kisses along your collarbone, down your chest, and over the curve of your stomach.

"Mmm," you let a soft purr escape your lips, grinning mischievously. "What is my Papa doing, hm?"

"Oh," Copia stopped with his kisses, rising his head, looking at you. "Mi dispiace, cara, should I stop?"

"Don't you dare," you murmured , biting your lower lip.

"Not too tired now, eh?" he murmured, lowering his face, brushing his lips on the skin of your stomach. "Sei così bella, il tuo corpo è così prezioso, la tua pelle è così morbida, ti amo così tanto." He chuckled softly, you could feel him smile against your skin, the sensation sending shivers through your body.

"Copia..." you whispered low. "I love you, Copia." Your hands found their way to his head, tangling themselves in his hair.

As he continued his exploration, his mouth trailed kisses down your abdomen, across your hips, and then up the inside of one thigh. You could feel his hot breath on your skin as he paused at the juncture of your thighs. The anticipation was almost too much for you to bear, but you managed to hold yourself together. His tongue traced a line from your knee up the inside of your thigh, stopping just short of your center. A single flick of his tongue sent a shiver through your body. His lips closed around the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh, sucking gently while his tongue danced across it.

"Oh, Copia... D- Don't tease me!" you begged.

He smiled against your skin, his teeth nipping at the soft skin of your inner thigh as he drew closer to your core. You felt your muscles tighten and you knew that if he kept this up, you would not be able to remain still.

"I'm not teasing cara, I'm just savoring every inch of your sinful body," he chuckled again, this time teasingly.

His tongue began a slow descent, tracing the length of your folds. You gasped, your fingers clenching in his hair. He looked up at you, his eyes full of lust. Your breathing quickened, your body betraying you as your arousal grew. His tongue brushed over your folds, making you squirm. He pressed his tongue against you, dipping it inside of you. You cried out, your hands gripping his hair tighter.

"Patience, amore mio," he whispered, his voice husky with desire.

He smiled lowering his face, his tongue moving faster now, lapping at your juices. His fingers slid up your leg, caressing your thigh, teasing the sensitive skin above your core. You cried out again, your body trembling. He licked and sucked at your entrance, his tongue darting in and out of you. Your mind reeled, thoughts of how good it felt clouding your judgment and you could feel your muscles clenching in response to his ministrations.

He removed one hand from your thighs to close to your heat, he removed his tongue from inside, replacing with two fingers inside you, curling them hitting spot as he thrust them fast. You tried to pull away, but his grip tightened, holding you in place. His tongue moved between your folds, circling your clit. Your hips thrust upward, grinding against his face and hand. He groaned against you, his fingers tightening around your leg.

"Copi-Ah...! Please, this is too much," you cried out.

"Amore, I know you can handle it," he murmured in a soft tone. "You're so good to me."

His tongue swirled over your clit, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. Your back arched, your body trembling. You moved your hips, bucking them wildly against his face. He moaned against your skin, his fingers digging into your leg. Your body was wracked with pleasure, his fingers moving faster, hitting your spot constantly.

"P-Please... If you keep going, I'm going to cum, Copia," you moaned loud.

His fingers moved faster as he removed his mouth from your clit, replacing it with his other hand, rubbing your clit faster, thrusting at the same rhythm his fingers inside you. His tongue flicked over your clit, sending more waves of ecstasy through your body. Your hips were bucking uncontrollably, your body trembling.

"Cum for me, cara," he grinned at you. "Cum for me, l'amore della mia vita."

His tongue lashing against your folds as his eyes were fixed on yours. You felt yourself tumble over the edge. You closed your eyes, throwing your head back. His fingers still working on your clit, circling it.

"Yes! yes-yes-yes-yes! Co- Copi-Ah!" you bite your lower lip, trying desperately to hold back the orgasm as your body tensed.

"Per favore, cara," he pleaded. "Cum for your Papa, cum for me, amore."

You screamed as your body jerked and spammed, your orgasm ripping through you. Your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you bucked off your hips from the bed, his hands instinctively held onto your hips tightly bringing your hips back to the mattress.

"Oh, Satan!" you growled, rolling your hips.

"Nessun Satana, amore mio, solo il tuo Papa," he whispered, as his tongue licked between your flesh. "Just your Papa tasting your dolce nettare."

"Mmm... Papa..." you whined, feeling your climax slowly fading.

"Sì, cara, your Papa..." he whispered, crawling on top of you.

Your fingertips gently traced his cheekbone before cradling his face, your thumb tenderly caressing his skin. With a soft smile, you drew his face towards yours, capturing his lips in a lingering, affectionate kiss. He opened for you and your tongue slid into his mouth, dueling with his. His hands were on your waist, holding you close as your tongues danced together. The kiss was slow and sensual, the passion building, with his tongue flicking against yours.

You broke it slowly, looking up at him, breathing heavily. his hands sliding down your body. He looked down at you, eyes filled with wonder and desire.

"I love you so much, Copia," you whispered.

"I love you more than words can express, mia amata."

He kissed you again, gently this time, but with more intensity than before. You moaned softly, grinding yourself against him. You wrapped his waist with your arms, pulling him closer, pressing his body against yours.

"P-please Copia, I need you," you whispered with your lips on his. "I need you so much."

Gazing into your eyes, Copia's smile deepened before he leaned in, placing tender kisses along your neck. His hands traced a path down your sides, eliciting a shiver from you as you arched your back in response.

"Is it me you need, cara?" his breath danced against your ear as he whispered.

You turned your face towards him, a soft nod confirming your desire, your fingertips caressing the expanse of his back. With a gentle touch, your fingers found their way to his scalp, tangling in the soft locks of his hair. Copia's eyes closed as he savored the sensation, a contented hum escaping his lips. Your chuckle danced in the air as you admired the peaceful and relaxed expression on his face.

Copia leaned in, his lips brushing against your forehead before leaving a soft, lingering kiss. His eyes opened slowly, meeting yours in a gaze that felt like a reflection of your love and passion, a silent exchange without the need for words.

He shifted back between your legs, and you couldn't help but turn your gaze to his body, tracing every contour, and taking in the intricate details of his skin – every freckle, mark, and subtle nuance. You marveled at how perfectly his form was put together, all belonging to the man you loved.

"What's the matter, cara?" Copia inquired, his hands tenderly caressing your thighs.

You shifted your attention to him, a smile gracing your lips. "You're absolutely stunning," you murmured as you settled on the edge of the bed before him. "Copia, you're undeniably beautiful, the most handsome man I've ever laid eyes on."

He blushed at your words, trying to dismiss them. "Oh, cara, I'm just an old—"

Quickly, you placed your fingers over his lips, preventing him from finishing his sentence.

"Don't you dare undermine yourself. You're an incredible man, the most remarkable in the world to me, and I love you deeply. I'm so grateful for our meeting."

His expression softened, and he lowered his lips to yours, kissing you tenderly with a smile playing on his lips. You settled back onto the bed, letting yourself sink into its comfort.

"Now, if you would," you began in a hushed voice, "make me yours tonight and for all the nights to come."

He smiled, reaching out to stroke your cheek. "I will, cara mia. I'll make you mine every night."

A tear fell down your cheek, but it was quickly replaced by another. "I'm sorry, Copia. I didn't mean to cry."

"It's alright, cara," Copia whispered, holding your hand, pressing a kiss on the back of it. "Are you ready to be mine for the rest of our lives?"

"Yes, Copia, please take me as yours."

His hand caressed your body, stroking your skin with care and affection. You moaned softly, arching your hips toward him. Copia chuckled, moving closer to you until his hardness was pressed between your legs and his torso on top of you.

"Ah!" you let a surprised moan escape your lips, as you felt him.

He grinned at you, taking his length on his hand, stroking it lazily. He rubbed his hardness between your folds, teasing you. With one swift motion, he thrust himself into you, slowly filling you, causing you to gasp loud. You wrapped your legs around him, locking your ankles behind his back.

"Oh... Copia, yes... That feels so good," you purred.

He began to move slowly, his pace deliberate and measured. You moaned softly, your hands roaming over his chest and shoulders. He leaned forward, bringing his lips to yours, kissing you passionately as he continued to thrust into you. You broke the kiss, gasping for breath, moving your hips in time with his, matching his rhythm.

"P- Please, Copia... faster," you stammered, breathless.

"Faster, eh?" Copia asked quietly, his tone with a hint of lust.

He pulled out of you, his length glistening with your wetness. He pushed himself into you, causing you to gasp, your body arching. He moved deeper into you, his hardness stretching you. You whimpered softly, biting your lip as you felt your arousal.

You felt him move fast, slamming his length deep inside of you. The soft sound of flesh slapping together filled the room. You tightened your legs around him, wanting to keep him inside of you. Copia groaned, increasing his pace.

"You're so tight," he growled, leaning down to press a peck on your lips. "So warm..." he added. "So perfect..." he concluded. "And I love being inside you, amore mio," he said.

His movements becoming faster and more intense after each stroke. You sighed, your eyes closing as you savored the sensation of his member sliding in and out of you. Copia kissed your neck gently, his hands stroking your breasts. You arched your back to meet his thrusts, pressing your hips upward.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his breathing becoming heavier. "So beautiful and mine."

"Yes, Copia, yes," you moaned softly. "I'm yours, Copia, I'm all yours."

He grinned, raising his head from your neck, locking his eyes with yours. He increased his speed, his movements becoming faster and more urgent. You cried out, your fingers digging into his back, his breath ragged.

"It feels so good inside of you," he responded. "Your pussy feels so good wrapped around my cock."

Copia buried himself completely inside of you, holding himself there for a moment before pulling out. You gasped, your eyes flying open.

"Copia! Wh-?" you cried.

"Shh," he hushed, his fingers tracing circles around your clit.

"Copia, please! Don't make me beg."

He ignored you, pushing two fingers inside you, working them in and out while his thumb circled your clit. He removed his fingers inside of you, bringing them to his lips. He opened his mouth, taking his fingers in a hard suck, rolling his eyes to the back of his head.

"You always taste so good when your pussy is dripping for me, amore."

He flipped you over, positioning himself behind you. He entered you, with his length sliding easily in and out of you, causing you to growl and cry out. You bit your lips trying to contain a loud moan. Copia's hands were on your hips, guiding you to meet his thrusts. You cried out, your body tensing up.

"Copia, I'm going to cum soon," you warned him. "Ah! Please, make me cum for you. Make me cum for you, Papa."

"I will, amore, I-" he bit his lower lip. "Cazzo, I'm going to cum too, merda, sì, sì, your pussy is so goo-Oh!"

He growled, slamming himself deep inside you, causing you to moan loud. Your walls tightening around his length, coming, feeling yourself spamming. Your juices flowing freely onto the sheets. Copia's body stiffened, and you felt him throbbing inside of you, his hot seed filling you up.

"Cazzo!" he screamed. "Ah! Cara! So good! Oh, Satan!"

Copia collapsed on top of you, both of you panting heavily. You could feel his hardness softening inside of you. You turned your head, looking at him above your shoulder. He turned you around to face him, with a gentle smile on his lips.

"Copia..." you whispered, smiling at him. "That was incredible."

"Sì, it was," he agreed, kissing your shoulder.

Copia eased himself down beside you, his body rolling gracefully until he was nestled beside you. His arms reached out, drawing you in close until your head rested against his heaving chest. As you closed your eyes, his rapid heartbeat echoed in your ears, a rhythm that you matched as you worked to steady your own. Your fingers danced across his skin, tracing a delicate path from his belly to his chest. Your touch lingered over the intricate 666 tattoo, your fingertips moving in gentle circles against his skin, almost as if you were soothing away any lingering tension.

Copia's eyes fluttered shut, his lips parting slightly as a soft hum of contentment escaped them. He shifted his face towards yours, his breath caressing your skin as his lips brushed against your forehead, planting a tender kiss there. His fingers found solace in your hair, tangling and weaving through the strands, his touch gentle as he massaged your scalp with affectionate strokes.

"I love you so much, I'm never going to get tired of telling you that," Copia murmured.

"That's good because I don't think I'll ever get tired of hearing you say that, Copia." You lifted your head in his direction, cupping his face with one of your hands, stroking his cheek delicately with your fingertips.

Copia's lips curved into a tender smile as he leaned into your touch, his eyes locking onto yours. "You truly are my solace, mia amata," he whispered.

You returned his smile, your heart swelling with affection. "And you, Copia, you're my everything," you replied, your thumb tracing a soft pattern on his cheek.

His hand reached up to cover yours, holding it against his cheek as he closed his eyes, savoring the moment. "Tonight has been... more than I could have imagined," he admitted.

"I'm glad," you whispered, your fingers brushing through his hair as you gazed at him with adoration. "You deserve all the happiness in the world, Copia."

His eyes fluttered open, and he gazed at you with a warmth that radiated from deep within. "You're my happiness, mia dolce amata."

You felt your heart skip a beat at his words, the depth of his feelings washing over you like a soothing wave. A soft smile graced your lips as you looked into his eyes, feeling a profound connection between you.

"Copia," you murmured, your voice filled with tenderness. "And you are mine."

He leaned in, his breath warm against your skin as he closed the distance between your lips. The touch was gentle, almost hesitant, as if he wanted to savor every second of this connection. His lips brushed against yours tenderly. His hand cradled your cheek, his thumb caressing your skin in a soothing gesture, the taste of his lips was familiar yet new, a taste that you could never tire of. As the kiss lingered, his lips moved against yours with a slow and deliberate rhythm. Your fingers instinctively tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as if to deepen the connection even further.

After you both broke the kiss, a soft sigh of contentment escaped your lips. Copia's forehead found its place against yours, and in that close proximity, your eyes locked onto each other's.

"Amore," he began, his voice carrying a gentle weight. "I know you must be tired, but there's something I've been holding onto, waiting for the right time to give it to you. It's something I've kept , and I believe this moment is absolutely perfect."

Copia gracefully seated himself on the bed, his hand reaching towards the drawer of the bedside table. The drawer opened, and he retrieved and envelope from within, its appearance reminiscent of the one you stumbled upon in his office months ago. Sitting down beside him, your eyes were fixed on the envelope he presented to you.

"Per favore, read it," he invited softly.

Accepting the envelope from him, you nodded with a reassuring smile. With care, you opened it, retrieving a folded sheet of paper from its confiines. You leaned your back against the headboard as you unfolded the paper and started to read, your eyes scanned the words that Copia had penned down.

Document version here

As you read, you could feel the emotions welling up within you. His vulnerability and honesty touched your heart, and tears began to pool in your eyes. You looked up from the paper, your gaze meeting his. His eyes were locked on yours, his expression filled with hope and a touch of anxiety. The letter had bared his soul, and now it was your turn to respond. A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you folded the paper back and placed it on the bedside table.

"Copia, I love you so much, my love," you whispered, your voice laced with emotion.

"I love you too," he let out a sigh of relief, his shoulders visibly relaxing. "I'm glad you liked it."

"I didn't just like it," you chuckled softly, wiping away a tear that had escaped your eye. "I loved it."

Copia reached for your hand, his fingers intertwining with yours. "Amore, I meant every word. You mean the world to me, and I wanted you to know just how much. I was so scared when they told me that they wanted me to be the new Papa Emeritus that I had to write this letter. I had to let you know how I felt about you and how I'll always feel about you."

"I felt it," you said, your heart swelling with affection. "And I want you to know that I feel the same way about you."

He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "Thank you for being in my life, for standing by me. I promise to cherish you, today and every day that follows."

Your lips curved into a gentle smile. "And I promise to stand by you, support you, and love you, today and every day that follows."

"I love you," Copia whispered. "Today, tomorrow and forever."

In that moment, as you looked into each other's eyes, you knew that the bond you shared was unbreakable. The words in the letter had sealed a promise, a promise of love, understanding, and unwavering companionship. And as you leaned in, sharing a tender kiss, you knew that this was just the beginning of a new chapter in your journey together. Your connection with Copia transcends titles and roles, and it’s clear that your love is strong enough to weather any challenges that may arise. Together, you’ve embraced the uncertainty of the future and found solace in each other’s presence. No matter the circumstances or changes that come your way, your love remains unwavering. It’s a powerful reminder that true love transcends any external factors.

And well, you couldn't have been happier to have stumbled upon that letter, that love-filled note, tucked away in his office all those months ago. That incomplete love letter revealed itself to be more than mere words on paper; it was the prelude of authentic love. It reminded you that sometimes, the tiniest gestures can carry the most significant meaning in our lives. The letter without a "from" or "to" inscription showed you that even the simplest of things can hold the key to true happiness in life, and your happiness had a reason now—it was Copia, your one and only, forever yours, Copia.

Grammar

Amore - love Cara - dear Ma, grazie - but, thank you Eccellente - excellent Mio fratello - my brother Molto bene - very good Ora ascoltami - listen to me Madre - mother Prego, sorella - thank you, sister Mia amata - my love Per favore - please Non capisco, mia amata - I don't understand, my love Non ci pensare neanche - don't even think about it Sei l'amore della mia vita - you're the love of my life Ti amo - I love you Bella sorella - beautiful sister Diavoletta - little devil Vieni - come Sei così bella, il tuo corpo è così prezioso, la tua pelle è così morbida, ti amo così tanto - You're so beautiful, your body is so precious, your skin is so soft, I love you so much Nessun Satana, amore mio, solo il tuo Papa - no Satan, my love, only your Papa Dolce nettare - sweet nectar Mia dolce amata - my sweet love