gothdaddyissues

[gothdaddyissues]

When the Cardinal got the call about the attack on Mouse and the sibling, do you think he reacted sharply over the phone to whomever he spoke with, or cooly responded and waited until he hung up to go ballistic? I’m curious about his initial reaction to the news. 🫢

The Cardinal sat there, alone in an unfamiliar office, and thought about the changes so close at hand. It had been a long time coming, he supposed; the steadily ticking clock on the wall kept his toiling years in the forefront of his mind. All the bustle and the striving, the whole dogged pursuit of his own dark papacy, might actually be soon behind him. Copia relaxed back in his chair for a moment, admittedly irritated at the gentle ticking, but grateful nonetheless for this brief respite. The Ministry could be a tumultuous place, but for now, all was quiet, and he was ready. 

His door was open, and an assistant poked her head in. “My apologies, Your Eminence.. you have a phone call,” she said, gesturing towards the phone upon his current desk. He noticed a light blinking there. “Sister Imperator.”

Giving the girl a nod before she left, shutting the door behind her, he reached out for the receiver. “Pronto, eh… Hello?”

Sister’s voice a bit tinny over the antiquated line. “Cardinal. I trust you’re well?”

“Yes, Your Dark Excellency.” Imperator wouldn’t have called without a reason. “What’s this about?”

“I’m calling about the girl you’ve been tutoring.” The leather of his glove tightened more firmly around the receiver with an audible sound.

“What about her?” Imperator didn’t answer right away, and Copia felt a surge of something like a panic forming deep in his chest. “Sister—”

“Oh, she’s quite all right, Cardinal. Don’t worry, honestly.” Don’t worry…

“What—”

“She…” Her voice sounded pained, and he heard her take a little breath. “There was a fair bit of trouble up in the old cemetery today. Some kind of a transient was… bothering her and another girl. They’re a bit rattled, naturally… fought him off and ran. Nothing beyond a mere scuffle happened, they assured me, but…”

“I’ll be there shortly.” He could feel the blood rushing in his head, and he fought to remain calm.

“Your Eminence, you do understand what you’re meant to accomplish over there?”

“I do, Sister.” He let the weight of his decision hang for a moment. “I should be able to manage arriving back at the abbey… tomorrow at the latest.”

“The girl is perfectly fine here; a few abrasions… I only thought you’d like to know as a courtesy. Considering the time you’ve spent together.”

A few… abrasions. “Please expect me tomorrow, Sister. Thank you.”

“Cardinal.”

“Yes?” The word came out heavy with concealed rage.

“She is perhaps not perfectly fine. If I’m being honest with you.”

He hung up the receiver without another word, and he watched his hand shake, threatening to splinter the plastic. Taking a steely breath, he extricated his fingers from the thing, and then he methodically began to pack up his desk. As he worked, measured and silent beneath it, the soft and steady ticking of the clock on the wall threatened to drive him insane; a horrible reminder of how far he was from her. This was hell, truly; right here in the passionlessly beating heart of the Satanic Ministry. Copia gulped, fighting the hot fury rising inside him, the urge to retch out the pit of ice settling in his stomach. He wouldn't waste any time; he would not give in to his inner torment here. How was she faring with her own?

When he was done, he reached out for the phone again, his hand now steady.

“I want a car waiting for me downstairs. Ten minutes.”

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

On his way down the hall to her room he bumped into Terzo, exiting his papal chambers.

“How is Mouse?” Copia queried, without thinking.

“Who?”

“The girl!” he snapped, ready to lose it.

“Shhh…” Terzo was carefully shutting his door, “Sophie’s still sleeping…”

“The other girl! I hear she’s injured? Why aren’t you with her?”

“I only have one dick, Cardinal.”

Copia pondered on how exactly his life would change if he snapped Terzo’s neck right there in the hall. 

Terzo chuckled for a second at his seething expression, before getting serious again. “She’s got a nasty scrape on her head, poor thing. I tucked her in earlier, no fucking involved, Cardinal… She’s resting, says she’s fine, but…” Terzo frowned further. “She’s quite shaken up, I believe, contrary to what she’ll tell you.”

Not bothering to converse any further, Copia continued on down the hall. When he finally reached the door to her dear little room he paused for a second, gathering his scattered thoughts. 

It was darkening inside, and he let his eyes adjust for a moment, though it was hardly needed. He knew the room well; how many times had he let himself in here, just to look upon her? How many times had he done much more than look? 

She lay on the bed, curled up in a fretful slumber, and the icy rage he had carried all the way here to lay at her feet began to melt at the piteous sight of her. His poor sweet Mouse! 

Reaching out, he arranged her blanket a bit more snugly around her, and he noticed then what she was clutching in her fingers; a swathe of red that left his swelling heart bleeding. He lay down beside her. 

He wanted to hold her close, desperately, but he would not yet allow himself that gift. She needed to sleep; she needed to be safe. She needed to be loved. And for all the ways he had failed her, he could at least do that, effortlessly and beyond severe. He would love her beyond his last breath, he thought, watching over her precious ones, her fragile chest rising and falling softly.

After some time, he noticed her begin to stir, and eventually she reached out for her light. 

“Dolce,” he said, gently. She whirled around, and the look in her dewy eyes at the sight of him made him want to weep. 

Finally, he held her. 

link to ao3

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I don’t even know what to say anymore <3

#he’s pure sin #gonna go cry now

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Oh how i miss my horny satanic pope.... 😞

#i want him to step on me #and then wreck me #i barely remember what life was like before he got me in a chokehold

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Papa doing his thing he always does. x

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what a song amirite

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THIS SPECIFIC MOUNTAIN PICTURE.

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Okay, let’s make this a ✨masterlist✨

My most recent/ongoing work:

Never to return - Catholic virgin fem OC x Cardinal Copia (let’s call it a slowburn maybe?)

(If you want to be included in a tag list concerning this ongoing series, hmu!)

Dom Cardinal Copia:

In the name of Distraction - 1st person fem POV x Cardinal Copia (he is a brat tamer in this.)

La piccola morte - 1st person fem POV x Cardinal Copia (he helps you deal with a bad dream in his own ways.)

You and Me and the Devil makes Three - 2nd person fem POV x fem oc x Cardinal Copia (he likes to watch you watch him. A threesome.)

“This might’ve been a little bit too much” - 2nd person fem POV x Cardinal Copia (Copia is not amused and he’s going to punish you for it.)

“Mangiamo!” - 2nd person fem POV x Cardinal Copia (he’s a bit switchy in this, but that’s your fault.)

One Morning with Cardinal Copia - 2nd person fem POV x Cardinal Copia (he’s a soft dom in this, and he woke up horny.)

Sub Cardinal Copia:

An ice-capped Fire - 2nd person fem POV x Cardinal Copia (Copia is a whiny, pleading little whore in this short one shot.)

Fics with more than one chapter:

If I could turn back the Time… - 2nd person fem POV x Cardinal Copia (my first fic ever. Never intended to write more than one part. I add to them whenever I see fit. // Reader basically meets her old flame after ten years of not having been able to see him.)

Until you’re Mine - 2nd person fem POV x Dracopia ! (Reader goes on an adventure to meet the Cun-, the Count and it’s oddly Bram Stoker’s Dracula coded.)

Never to Return - 3rd person catholic virgin OC POV x Cardinal Copia (Alice is a catholic woman who lives a pious life, well, does she really? Because one errant night, she meets a mysterious, satanic man who’s gonna help her with exploring new shores…)

My Wattpad account:

I’m slowly but surely transferring all my fics from Wattpad to AO3 so there might still me some which I haven’t uploaded on AO3 yet, like this one for example.

Copia is quite the violent dom in there.

Thank you all for reading my silly little stories! 💓💓💓

Here’s a photo of the man I am definitely not obsessed with 🤥:

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Copia: Dear diary, I don't know why my Ghouls are so fucked up. It's gotten to the point that subjecting anyone else to their behaviour is going to be a human rights violation.

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[x]

#his hair.... 😍

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#i wish that was me....

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Hello my dear. Lots of love and hugs to you. And lots of positive thoughts and vibes your way. I hope things will get better for you. ❤️

I've been going through some tough times as well, but your stories always brighten my day! So I am here to ask for a little Secondo drabble from the rivals to lovers prompt. Would you please consider the what if we fall in love prompt. That boy is so grumpy on the outside, but we all know he just needs to be loved and cared for. Let us love you Secondo, that's all we ask!

Anyways, please know that we love you too @bethbruttenholm ❤️. Please take care and I hope things look up for you very soon!

I hope you're doing well, my love. At the very least, I hope better ❤️

Please enjoy arranged marriage Secondo and reader. I know it's not quite rivals to lovers BUT DAMN. GOTDAMN. I am in the mood for arranged marriage Papas.

Extra soft and sweet and nervous Secondo. Cut for space!

I hope you like.

“What are you thinking about?” you ask, gnawing on your lip - trying to keep the panic attack brewing behind your sternum at bay. Papa Primo had gifted you a bag of calming tea and you’d made it extra strong. Secondo had added a bit of his own calming extract: a dash of brandy and a wink which, admittedly, was helping.

“It is not so easy to explain,” Secondo says, staring out the window, eyes looking past the rivulets of rain running down the panes - he isn’t seeing anything, really; his thoughts consuming him, his jaw working overtime. He opens his mouth and then shuts it, “No one has ever asked me that.”

“Asked you what? What you’re thinking about? Well, I’m a pretty nosy gal, so get used to that.”

Secondo stares at you for another moment before returning to his raindrop, window gazing.

You’re cupping your mug of tea in both hands, sitting in his chair - wondering if it’s supposed to feel this mundane. His desk and chair - his throne - dwarf you but, that’s all you feel. Small. Hardly significant in the grand scheme of things but, you wonder if any other person has been allowed to sit here; shoes toed off, feet tucked up underneath you. You stare at Secondo, watching him as he watches nothing - far too lost in the dark, icy depths of his mind, “Papa?” you call to him and he gives you a gentle, albeit, long suffering look. You stifle a grin, “Secondo,” you correct yourself and his shoulders drop a little. He moves to lean against the edge of his desk, your knees against his thigh. You reach out and give his arm a gentle, encouraging squeeze, “We should be able to talk to each other,’ he continues to stare - that Secondo stare - and you rustle up a little more courage, lean into the comfort and closeness you feel with him, “I want to know what you’re thinking.”

You pull away and he stares at the spot on his arm that your fingertips had last touched, “You do not deserve to be married to an emotionally stunted, half-crippled, old man.”

You snort, “And you don’t deserve to be stuck with an anxiety-riddled, anti-social hermit but,” you sigh dramatically, flashing the fancy, new gold band on your left ring finger, “Here we are. Betrothed. Married. Wedded.”

“Thank you,” he exhales before finishing off his drink. Thunder rumbles in the distance and the rain and wind pick up, “I had forgotten.”

“Of course,” you nod, staring into the dark tea in your hands, “After all, we’ve been married for so long. What is it now? Hour? Hour and a half?” you grin, sliding your eyes up to Secondo who is staring at you, unreadable, “Did I mention I am a bit sarcastic? Anxious, sarcastic hermit.”

“It has been noted,” he says, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards. He holds out his hand and you slip yours into as he helps you to your feet. He kneels down and, between the table and his shoulder - very strong and broad and, ahem, nice - you manage to balance as he helps you put your shoes back on. He stands, groaning a bit as he returns to full height, “We have hidden for far too long. They will come looking.”

“Can’t we just order a pizza and call it a wedding? Oh, no. Wings. Let’s order wings,” you say as Secondo leads you to the door.

“You like no bone or bone?” he asks and then stops and turns slowly to you. You’re sucking your lips in to avoid snorting but, the snort comes anyway followed by a giggle, “Do not answer.”

“I like the bone in,” you laugh as you pass him, he holds open the door - eyes following you as you walk by, “Lots of sauce.”

He looks handsome in his formal robes - sans mitre - glittering in onyx and emerald - the lowlight of the hallway does nothing to stifle the gems he’s decorated with. Your own wedding dress is a soft, off white thing that clings to your curves and invites the eye to follow; though beautiful, it seems awfully mundane next to the leader of the Satanic Church. Papa Emeritus the Second. Your husband. The sound of that is just as foreign as the wedding dress you wear. You hadn’t had much of a choice and neither did he. But here you were, standing outside the doors of the great hall, marriage arranged… and then signed, sealed and delivered. And consummated.  

It was terrifying and your hands were shaking, again. Your heart pounding in your stomach, you want to call it butterflies but it’s more like nausea and, another, impending vomit session. You swallow down the tang of fear and clear your throat, “What if it doesn’t work out?” you ask and it comes out as a whisper, your voice trembling, “What if we hate each other?”

“What if we fall in love?” 

Your face snaps up to stare at Secondo and he’s doing his best to look encouraging, hopeful - eyebrows raised, something of a grin on his face. It’s his eyes, though. Those usually unreadable, ice cold, mismatched eyes are sparkling and wrinkled up at the corners. They’re happy. You think. He might be drunk, “I didn’t peg you as the romantic type,” you say, catching his smile - it’s contagious.

It’s Secondo who tries not to laugh then and you elbow him. He catches your arm and slides his hand down to take yours, giving it a squeeze, “You are shaking.”

“I’m scared.”

It’s quiet for a moment longer, “Me, too.”

You gaze up at him - he’s staring ahead, again, “Promise me something?”

“Was love, honor and obedience not enough?” his eyes slide over to you  and he nods.

“Promise me we’ll fall in love?” 

He squeezes your hand and nods, again, “I promise. But you must also make me a promise.”

“Oh? Was vowing to spew forth sons to carry on your name and bloodline not enough?” you poke at him and he arches an eyebrow, “Sorry. Anxious, hermit, smart ass, remember?”

“Promise me you will let me put on your shoes after I have a drink and you’ll wait for me to calm my mind, drink your tea and sit in my chair while I try not to go crazy and you’ll,” he clears his throat and looks down at your hand in his, “Promise me you will hold my hand and I will promise you that we will fall in love.”

The doors open and you’re greeted by thunderous applause and happy, loud cheers - somewhere someone announces Papa Emeritus the Second and his Prime Mover. You smile up at him - beaming - and you give his hand a reassuring squeeze, “I promise.”

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#the view from down there #looking up at him?? 🥵 #with the way he looks down on you PLEASE #SOMEONE CALL AN AMBULANCE #<- OPs tags on point

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#yeah.... insane over that spooky-ass goof anti-pope guy

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day 300!!!

#the man of my dreams

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This is a Copia's Ass Appreciation Post

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🤔🤌

But really, why is he like that

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Sister Imperator, probably: Fuck you, my child is completely fine!

The child in question: