#the opposite of lonliness | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

her-satanic-wiles · 3 months

Text

Masterlist ⛧ Lost in Translation Masterlist ⛧ Ao3

Words: 13.1k.

Reading Time: 53 min.

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

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

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

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

Previous Part ⛧ Next Part

🔞 MDNI 🔞

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Slap.

Slap!

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

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

But Copia wasn’t done with you yet.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Maybe in the morning.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, Sister.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nodded in response but your stomach still churned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sibling Riley, “He was removed, though.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But-”

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

“And he doesn’t get a say in this?”

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

“I doubt that. I want to see him.”

“I’d advise against that, Sister.”

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

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

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

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

Seemed. You don’t know.

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

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

Or he’d echo Sister Imperator’s words.

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

But you’d never have him again.

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

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

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

“Sorella, wait please!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

And wallow you did.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t want to.”

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

“But-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Riley, I-”

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

You nodded and watched as they left the room.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Copia’s POV

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He nodded in response, looking to pathetic beside her.

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

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

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

“Why did you have to do that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sister Imperator would allow him to do no such thing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“She’s not my Prime Mover yet.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But-”

“Off you go.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Another step.

And another.

Closer…

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

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

“May I be excused, Your Dark Eminence?”

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

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

“Wait for me, in the pews. Please.”

You didn’t answer, or even acknowledge his request, but he watched as you left and went and sat at the back of the Basilica. Relief washed over him as he realised you were giving him a chance. One final chance to make everything right. He turned to look at Cumulus, and asked her to sit with you while you waited. “Make conversation,” he ordered, “I don’t care. Just keep her there. If anyone tries to override this, don’t listen to them. Understand?” He wasn’t ashamed to admit that he rushed through the rest of the congregation, eager to rush to you before you changed your mind.

Of course, Sister Imperator had clocked what was happening and tried to get you to leave, but Cumulus stood her ground. Clearly she was the right Ghoulette for the task. When he was finished, he awkwardly ran to you, his legs resembling an ostrich the way he threw himself up the aisle and toward you. He loved you - he was in love with you. And to hell with the prophecy if it meant he could have you.

“Thank you for waiting,” he began, a little out of breath from the exertion.

You stood and bowed a little, formally greeting the head. “Your Dark Eminence.”

“Please call me Copia.” He sounded much sadder than he intended to.

“I can’t.”

Cumulus cleared her throat beside you both, drawing the attention to her.

Copia nodded. “Right, right. Thank you, Ghoulette. You may leave.” When you were semi-alone, Copia continued. “I wanted to explain myself - tell you about what you saw.”

“Forgive me, Your Dark Eminence, but I don’t want the gory details.”

“No, no. Please just let me explain. It wasn’t what you think - well, it was, but it wasn’t. Sister Evelyn is supposed to be my Prime Mover. There’s been a prophecy for a few hundred years… something about the antichrist only producing offspring with a person who has three sixes in their birth date. It’s ridiculous, I know, but Sister Imperator is adamant it is Sister Evelyn. She’s also adamant that I am the antichrist but, again, I don’t believe her.

“Comunque, I was never meant to see anyone else… I was never meant to fall in love with anyone. But then you come along with your intelligence and your sweetness and become so irresistible that I can’t help but… fall in love… with you.”

He watched your face anxiously, waiting for something that would help relieve the tension in his stomach. But you remained deadpanned, hidden from his gaze.

You started to speak, choosing your words carefully. “If this is how you show love, Your Dark Eminence, then I’d rather not be loved by you at all.”

“Sorella?”

“Why didn’t you say anything? Why did you let her… in your office… why?”

“I…” he paused, thinking about what he should say next. “Per cominciare, I don’t believe in the prophecy anyway, so it seemed irrelevant at the time. I didn’t intend on choosing Sister Evelyn anyway so I didn’t tell you because it just didn’t matter to me. But also… in my office… I did try to push her off me, really I did. I so desperately want you to believe me. I didn’t try hard enough, and I wasn’t strong enough. And I couldn’t be sorrier for it. If you’ll let me, I’ll spend every day for the rest of my life making it up to you. Whatever you need to trust me again, I’ll do it. I love you, ___.”

You stood there for a moment, a little dumbfounded. You were trying to think of something to say, some way to answer him the way you wanted to.

However, the words stuck in your throat, causing an explosion of feelings to pass through you, including hurt, rage, confusion and the last traces of love. Copia’s fervent request lingered in the atmosphere, weighted with sincerity, but your emotions stayed guarded, hurt by the latest discovery. “I can’t just forget everything, Copia,” you finally spoke, your voice a delicate whisper. “I saw what I saw, and it hurt. It hurt a lot.”

Copia’s eyes pleaded with yours, a look of profound regret on his face. He made a hesitant move to close the emotional gap that had formed between you, but you pulled away, keeping a precarious distance. “I love you, ___,” he repeated, the sincerity in his voice echoing through the sacred space of the Basilica.

Closing your eyes briefly, you took a steadying breath. “Love is supposed to be about trust, isn’t it? And I… I just don’t know if I can trust you after what happened.”

His shoulders slumped, a profound sadness settling upon him. “I understand. I’ll do anything to earn back your trust. Just give me a chance, please.”

A heavy silence hung in the air as you grappled with the conflicting emotions within. The sacred surroundings of the Basilica seemed to amplify the weight of the moment, the echoes of your shared history and fractured trust resonating within its hallowed walls.

“I need time, Copia,” you finally admitted, your gaze meeting his. “Time to process, to heal. I can’t promise anything right now.”

Copia nodded, a mix of acceptance and determination in his eyes. “I’ll wait. For as long as it takes. Please just remember that I never meant to hurt you… no matter what anyone says.”

With his mistakes weighing heavily on him, Copia stood there in the dimly lighted Basilica. The lingering smell of incense filled the air, and the elaborate decorations were softly lit by candlelight, creating shadows. A knot clenched in his chest as he watched you walk away, each step bringing you further away from him. Copia became overcome with a deep sense of loss as the heavy door creaked shut behind you. His heart was hollow and empty, and the Basilica, which had previously been a place of devotion and peace, now rang with that. There was a deafening quiet after he had bared his soul and exposed his feelings.

The cold stone under him was a sharp contrast to the warmth that had once filled his heart as he fell to his knees. His gaze remained fixated on the path you had followed, which appeared to extend into an unclear and lonely future. His fingers trembled as he struggled with the regret and shame that were threatening to overwhelm him.

“I’ve lost her,” he muttered to the hallowed area surrounding him, the declaration more of a regret than an assertion. His own remarks seemed to mock him as they echoed off the Basilica’s great vaulted ceilings.

His eyes began to brim up with tears, but he forced them back. The weight of his cardinal robes felt like an anchor, keeping him grounded in a world where love had managed to evade him. His hands balled into fists, anguish and annoyance blending into a soundless orchestra of loss. Copia sensed the loneliness of the Basilica drawing closer to him in the dim light. Kneeling there, a broken man in a spot that had seen the highs and lows of his trip, he couldn’t fathom a life without you, without the warmth of your presence, without the hope that love had once kindled within him.

The compassionate Ghoul, Cirrus, had a great deal of empathy for their leader. She took a step forward without saying anything, her quiet comprehension echoing in her footsteps. The other Ghouls exchanged a look, not knowing how to step in or offer comfort at such a gravely vulnerable moment.

In a show of solidarity and support, Cirrus knelt next to the Cardinal. As Cirrus approached, her hand settled softly on Copia’s shoulder, her wordless presence speaking loudly. The touch, which went beyond the formality of their jobs, was a lifeline amid the sea of grief.

The other Ghouls remained a few steps back, unsure how much to get involved in Copia’s privacy and how much they could help. Worried emotions could be seen on their masked features as each Ghoul struggled with the emotional upheaval that had befallen their leader.

Cirrus stuck by Copia’s side. She didn’t try to make light of the situation or try to make it seem less painful. Rather, her presence was evidence of the unsaid connection that bound them together—a connection made in the furnace of similar experiences, both happy and sad.

“She’ll be back with good news, Cardinal.” Cirrus said. “I saw the way she looked at you.”

Copia, still processing what had happened, glanced up at Cirrus, uncertainty and hope mixed together in his eyes. His face was shadowed by the Basilica’s low light, highlighting the lines of exhaustion in his features. “You really think so?” Copia’s voice carried a vulnerability that contrasted sharply with his usual authoritative tone.

Cirrus nodded, offering a reassuring smile beneath her Ghoul mask. “I’ve seen a lot of love in my day, and the one between you and Sister ___ is far from over. She’ll return.”

Copia let out a heavy sigh, a mixture of relief and uncertainty. “I just… I can’t bear the thought of losing her. She means everything to me.”

Cirrus squeezed Copia’s shoulder gently. “‘Love will out’ as they say, even in the face of trials. Trust in the connection you share, Cardinal. It’s stronger than you realize.”

Previous Part ⛧ Next Part

Commissions are open! ⛧ Memberships ⛧ Tip Jar

87 notes · View notes