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oranpo · 5 months

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COPIA'S SEWER RAT RECOMMENDATIONS PT.1

This has been a long time comming! I wanted to take the time to create a long post not only with fic recommendations but also other stuff. The Ghost community is so talented that I needed time to gather all of the amazing projects and ideas that flutter around.

(This even took longer than anticipated because just when it was almost ready some of the authors in this list posted some freaking MASTERPIECES and I needed to add them as well, obviously.)

I plan to do a post like this from time to time with new discoveries, so please if you don't follow/know these creators, please check them out. Furthermore, if there is someone you think I have missed or that you would like for me to check out, please, let me know. I am always eager to know more amazing creators.

(please be aware that some of the fics and artists I will be talking about write some very nasty, yet amazing, stories/art so please always check their tags and tws before diving in).

📝WRITING

Let's start with one of the backbones of this amazing community: @da-rulah and her gorgeous and deliciously nasty fics. Please go read Rituale Septem and Confessional if you haven't already. Her hcs and drabbles are also so so good, you should read everything she has written, you won't be dissapointed.

Now, the wonderful, amazing writer that is @her-satanic-wiles. I have become her personal and most ardent supporter this October (if you could not tell by how much I have reblogged and liked her stuff smh). Her Kinktober challenge this year has been an absolute delight so I leave you with her mastrerlist so you can check her out on your own.

Now, my beloved, the amazing writer that is @writingjourney with my favourite fic to date I Knew Nothing but Shadows. I honestly get such joy when she posts, it is pure perfection. She puts such detail in her writing that it always makes me so incredibly happy to read her stuff. I also leave you with her masterlist, please check her out! UPDATE: SHE JUST POSTED THE MOST PERFECT VAMPIRE SECONDO FIC, you must read it: Friday Nights at the Vinothek.

The great @bupia is next!!!! I honestly adore everything they write. My personal favs are Barista Preferita, Love Letter, Bloodlust, their kinktober series and their new work is Serendipity. I am always in awe with how they write honestly. I want to be y/n so much with their fics (lol, cringe). Please read everything of theirs!

How can I not mention the absolute, amazingly talented, cowboy lover that is @ramblingoak ??? Her whole universe of cowboys (I love cowboys like yeehaw all day you know?) is honestly one of my favs, AND THE WAY SHE WRITES, let me tell you, the DETAILS, the EMOTIONAL backstories, THE ROMANCE, THE DRAMA?! Please go read The Cardinal's Bride and the other stories of the same au if you haven't done so already. You are missing out on one of the best AUs this fandom has to offer. UPDATE: A NEW FIC?! SKATING COPIA?! TIGHT SUITS?! Need I say anything else? Go read her new series: Copia on ICE!

Then, @molly-ghuleh !! I just started reading her stuff and now I cannot stop?! Camellia is SO GOOD you must read it!! It deserves much more attention!!! THE DETAILS?? The love at first sight trope leaving me in shambles???!!! I am seriously invested and I cannot recommend her more! GO! NOW!

Next, my lovely ghestie @discountdemonwarehouse/@eyeslikelilith who is so funny and so so nasty😈💜! Please go follow her here and on Ao3 for her amazing fics (I love her WWDITSxGhost fic What We Do In The Ministry the most hehehehe iykyk)

@leezlelatch and her amazing drabbles bring me so much joy, please go check her out and read everthing she posts, it is wonderful and insanely entertaining. (I cannot choose only one recommendation help, read everything!!!)

What can I say about @earthry other that she is amazing and I that I am obsessed with her drabbles and asks? I have read Watermelon Kisses so many times that you could lock me up.

Go check @zombie-rott out in general! Her stories are very comforting and nice!!! AND THE WAY SHE WRITES??? I love love love it. I highly recomend reading Pawprints, it is adorable, you should ckeck it out.

Please go read @bethbruttenholm's Seduce Me... I fell in love with this fic, so so good, and her writing is *chef's kiss*.

@anamelessfool in general is a master, like, her Omega3 fics are so nice *wink*, extra kudos for Reciprocity muhahahaha (it is delicious)

AAAAAA @gravehags and her curator!reader x copia series??? I AM ABSOLUTELY OBSESSED? THE HALLOWEEN CHAPTER? I WAS GRINNING LIKE A MADWOMAN ALL THE TIME. She also writes a lot about the Ghouls and Ghoulettes and it is SO SO NICE!

@the-curator1 In The Darkness of your Dreams ??? AN ABSOLUTE MASTERPIECE oh my Satan, I LOVE LOVE IT!!!

🎨ART

This list is going to be long and I don't want to sound like a broken record or make this post eternal (because I could talk about all of them for ages if you let me) so I will make only a big recommendation for the following artists:

@vogelfreyh

@piaart

@vanmec

@comfysanda

@nocterish/@nocturnal-birb

@sirlsplayland

@risunsky

@blanchebees

@mardyart

@meowsaidmissy

@forgelokid

@novaiisk

@nekronyancer

@delulluart

@yollur

@quaildoodle

@oranpo

@doodleshrimps

@kabukiaku

@thew0man

@blackbird5154

Please, check all of them. They deserve all the recognition they can get. I adore how much love and effort they put in their art, WIPS or whaterver they decide to make. Every single one of them inspires me so much, I cannot explain with words how proud I feel to be able to look at their creations and share a community or even an interest with such talented creators.

👻OTHERS

This is the one that needs more creators. I need to find projects, creators that do other things such as theorising, gifs, big projects, whatever. Please, give me your suggestions and I will check them out and add them in following entries.

For now, I leave you with a couple of amazing people that deserve all the praise:

@stressghoul I honestly follow her EVERYWHERE. I love her tiktoks so much, she is so funny. The Brittany Brosky of the Ghost community you could say.

@slavghoul If you need any questions solved about our dear Satanic papas, go follow Slav. I have never seen a more dedicated person with such an amazing brain, it is honestly so inpiring to see what they have to say every single time. By the way, also check their videos on all the little isolated parts from Ghost songs, does not fail on lifting my feet from the ground as if possessed, every-single-time. You can check all the videos here.

@kabukiaku again??? YES! WHY?! BECAUSE I ADORE HER PAPA PLUSHIES I THINK THEY ARE THE CUTTEST!!!!

Lastly, I wanted to mention a YouTube creator that is making orchestral versions of Ghost songs. I found an orchrestral version of DATHOML on Tiktok and I had to find the whole song. Please check them out because they are doing more and it is amazing. Jamie Turton.

#THIS IS THE SWEETEST THING EVER?#and lots of cool creators as well #I'm so honored to be mentioned alongside all these amazing people!!!#a lot of them I admire deeply!!!!#Thank you OP for this (I LOVE your fics hehee... and I have talked to you from a different account huehuehuehue)#I still love el fic de reggaeton Copia :') <3 #reblogs #///sends kiths to OP///

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oranpo · 6 months

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🎃🕯Silly family portrait in Hallows' Eve🕯🎃

Literally had no time to draw something more complex so have these sillies - Happy Halloween!🎃🎃

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oranpo · 7 months

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Idolized

#the band ghost #ghost the band #ghost band #ghost #ghost bc #ghost the band bc #the band ghost bc #papa emeritus ii #papa emeritus secondo #secondo #papa II #ghost bc fanart #the band ghost fanart #ghost fanart #artists on tumblr #oranpo art

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oranpo · 8 months

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He's giving "I'm inside your walls" type of energy...

#i tend not to post anything about my life in this account but #i just got this little ugly bastard and honestly.... i love him🤧#the band ghost #papa emeritus IV #popia #copia #i swear to god the first picture makes me laugh so much....... like what is he even...

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oranpo · 8 months

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he is!!

#reblogs #so pretty OP #!

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oranpo · 8 months

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Drew these little sillies since I want to give them out as stickers at the LA rituals! - little dude with his rats🥺

#ghost #ghost band #ghost bc #the band ghost #the band ghost bc #cardinal copia #papa emeritus IV #copia #cardi c #ghost bc fanart #art on tumblr #art #artist on tumblr #oranpo art

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oranpo · 8 months

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Hello my love!!

Can you please write a little something about Secondo in bondage? Mr Worldwide is always portrayed as such a strong person in everything but I’d love to see him tied up and wanting, at the absolute mercy of his lover 😈

Thanks pumpkin!!

I am loathe to admit just how long this has been sitting in my inbox 😬😬😬😬

I'm am happy to finally reward your patients with his little piece with Secondo x Reader!

Thank you so much anon, I have a feeling I know who you are and I hope this was worth the wait!

The Medusa

Also available HERE on AO3!

Definitely NSFW below the cut!

You dragged the tip against his lips. Delighting in his snapping and snarling at the leather tongue of the crop. Slowly running your fingers up his chest before yanking up a bit on the tufts of hair. Dark black curls that sprouted forth from his chest and teased the base of his neck.

You could tell now he was mad with lust. His cock leaking and pulsing before you as you straddled him. The tip, a tender shade of red. It had been almost an hour now like this. This poor defenseless creature, trussed up on the very bed he prides himself on doing the trussing.

It was so erotic to see him this way. The formidable Secondo, Papa Emeritus the Secondo. The normally commanding and stoic man. Now a needy, desperate lover. His teeth gritted and limbs, struggling against his shackles.

"You poor thing." You hummed. Swatting him with the riding crop across the chest. Watching as welt appeared on his skin. The papal paints on his face, beginning to drip down with his sweat.

"Rrrr…" he growled as you shifted along his waist, running your hands over his belly and down the side of his thigh before moving up your own stomach. Grasping at your breasts, while watching his eyes grow hungrier by the second.

"Aspetta finché non sarò rilasciato. Distruggerò assolutamente quella figa." He growled, cock twitching at the thought.

"Oh my…well now…who says I'll release you." You teased, a seductive wickedness to your tone. Pleased with your ability to have ensnared him. To have him begging and groveling for his liberation—and all so he could fill you with his cock.

You looked down at it, licking your lips and moaning as you brought your fingers to your mouth. Sucking on them—wetting them before lowering to tips to press the swollen bud of your clit. You could see it made him crazy. His eyes fixed on you while pleasuring your cunt. Trying oh so hard not to cum at the sight of it.

"You are testing my patience tesoro." Secondo growned, "...that cunt belongs to me."

"…mmm…" you moaned, pretending to ignore him as you meticulously rubbed circles on your clit. Dipping down slightly into your folds, gathering up a bit of your own slick to assist the glide.

"Grrr... Sei una tentatrice. Succube, vorresti farmi morire qui, desideroso di essere riscaldato dalla tua fica." Secondo hissed, raising up his pelvis, trying hard to inch himself ever closer.

"Mmm…so dramatic Papa…ah…I think I'm going to cum." You moaned, steadily swirling your fingers. Secondo grew absolutely furious.

"That is mine, you cum only for me!" He called out. Pulling against the ties once more. His white eye, burning with lust and fury as he stared at the Medusa head necklace he'd given you. It's snakes made of platinum, eyes of pure emerald stone.

"Ah…maybe you should look away then…evade your eyes so that you might not do something silly like turn to stone." You laughed, biting again on your lip as you continued—your orgasm just within reach.

"Argh!" Secondo growled at you, hissing and squirming beneath you. His frustration mounting with each motion of your fingers.

"But I am a merciful succubus Papa…you know that." You said, taking your other hand and seizing tightly around his throbbing cock.

"Oh dolce maestà infernale." He moaned as you moved over him. Allowing the tip of his cock to edge at your folds. Secondo's needy hips sliding up to kiss ever so slightly at the entrance of your cunt. You pussy dripping over him with anticipation. Oh so close to orgasm.

"You want to fuck me Papa?" You proposed. Secondo continued to try and lift up into you. Clearly desperate for you to surround him. The low hum of his growling, hitting your cunt in the best way. He knew he was affecting you. His gaze, becoming more sinister by the second.

"You know you want it tesoro. My cock inside you. Filling you up until you can't take any more." He said, his voice thick like honey. All the more reason you ached between your legs.

You weren't sure how long you could hold out. Beginning to rub the head of his cock on your cunt. Allowing him just barely to enter you as you grind down along his shaft. Finally you had had enough. The flush, rushing over you. Your insides, throbbing and desperate for him—maybe even more than he was for you.

"Then fuck me." You commanded, allowing his cock to slip inside. Overwhelmed as he slowly spread you out. Filling you from stem to stern. Reveling in the feel of him as you rose up and fell–over and over on the length of him. Hmthe head of his cock blissfully pushing through the hollow of your cunt. The head pounding against the back with fervor.

You closed your eyes. Unable to take in all the sensory stimulation at once. Not only was your lover thick and hard, but he knew exact how to fuck you. Even if he was bound to the bed in the place you normally resided.

Tonight though you had your fun. Rocking up and down on him. The meaty tip pressing hard into the spot that made you see stars. Secondo's eyes watching as your necklace and bare breasts bounced with every one of his upward thrusts. Fucking into you hard and steady.

"That's a good girl. Ride your Papa's cock." Secondo hummed. The fluids from inside you pouting over him as you came. The sheer force of it exhausted you. Struggling to find the energy to carry on but your body still needed more of him. Forever still craving him no matter how good he fucked you.

"I'm not finished with you yet." You purred, trying to look commanding as you began to slide him in and out once more. Your pussy, so wet and hot that Secondo felt it were forged in the fires of Hell itself.

"Such a greedy little thing you are—now you make your Papa cum." Secondo demanded.

"Mmm…ah….ah…." You moaned, forgetting yourself a moment as you rode him. No longer caring to be in charge as you listened to the slick sounds of sex and the flesh of your ass hitting his pelvis as he fucked up into you.

"Ah…yes…tesoro….that's it, make…me cum…" He exhaled, absolutely drunk in the feel of you.

"Cum for me Papa! I'm cumming for you!" You cried out, trembling all over. Pussy pounding so hard inside you thought your heart had relocated there. Secondo clenched his teeth, his balls, tightening up as he started to cum. A guttural moan and the tell tale hip stutter as his cock kicked. Spilling his seed deep inside you.

Both of you continued on. Riding out the last moments of your orgasm together. Your legs wrapped around him tighter than a serpent suffocating its prey. Your breathing still ragged and your cunt still throbbing when you felt Secondo getting hard once more.

You could help but marvel at what an animal he was. Feral and definitely in heat. His cock still blissfully inside you while you could barely stay upright. You heard him beginning to chuckle, knowing his resolve would far outlast your own. Opening your eyes to see him staring at you, hungry and ready for more.

"Ready again?" You asked him, breathless and sweaty. Your body glistening and before him. He smirked, catching your attention when you felt his cock twitching inside you.

"Undo these ties tesoro and I will show you just how READY I am."

Notes:

Aspetta finché non sarò rilasciato. Distruggerò assolutamente quella figa -Just you wait until I am released. I will absolutely destroy that pussy.

Grrr... Sei una tentatrice. Succube, vorresti farmi morire qui, desideroso di essere riscaldato dalla tua fica. -Grrr... You temptress. Succubus, you would have me die here, aching to be warmed by your cunt.

Oh dolce maestà infernale -oh sweet infernal majesty

#!!!!#friend's fics #reblog #nsfw #ghost

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oranpo · 10 months

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In honor of the 27th anniversary of The Frighteners USA Premiere (yes, I know the release date is the 19th...), here is the next chapter of my fic, An Unlikely Pair! Featuring Milton Dammers and my OC Zoey Westin!

An Unlikely Pair

Special Agent turned paranormal private investigator; Milton Dammers has mysteriously risen from the dead (after the events of the film), finding himself in a body bag in the morgue of the Fairwater Medical Center. Dammers has no idea of how he got back just glimpses of a woman dressed in black, haunting his mind. Now years after his mysterious return to physical form, he has continued his investigations into the occult and spiritual disturbances of the quiet town with the help of Frank Banister, who has become an unlikely friend. When one fateful meeting puts Zoey Westin in his path, Milton's life and changes forever.

Chapter 2: When the Dead Don't Stay Dead

tags: Eventually NSFW, Romance, Fluff, Smut, Awkward Romance, Horror/Mystery, Praise kink, Breeding kink, Falling in Love, etc.

Also available HERE on AO3! Haven't started yet? Start from the beginning HERE!.

Read below the cut!

They cracked the door open slowly. Still, the obnoxious squealing echoed inside as Frank and Dammers entered into the old Briggs residence. The house was in a serious state of decay. Bits of ceiling had collapsed down onto the floor and the elements had already begun to lay claim to it. The vines and roots, snaking their way through the house, guiding the two men as they began their search inside.

“Jeez what a dump.” Frank commented as he ducked under the fallen rafter. Pulling out a flashlight from his pocket and shining it up along the walls. Dragging the beam over the peeling wallpaper and grit that had accumulated there. Finally ending up at what was left of the ceiling.

“Ah yes” Dammers said, swiping the dust and debris from the front stairs railing with the tip of his gloved hand, “It has certainly seen better days.”

“Well, the daylight’s not getting any better.” Frank said as he weaved his way past Dammers inside. Dammers nodded in response. The two of them, slowly making their way through when Frank began heading off upstairs to the precarious second floor that had all but been collapsed in from above.

“Careful Bannister. We wouldn’t want you falling through the ceiling.” Dammers remarked. Frank, rolling his eyes as he climbed the stairs. Dammers continued on, looking around as the floorboards creaked beneath him. Each step taken with care, Dammer’s doing his best to avoid stepping on evidence if any had been left behind.

His light shone on the frames covering, what would have been, the living room walls. He picked one of the old wooden squares up from a stack of them leaning against an old couch. All of them, filled with memories of good times past. Dammers couldn't help but wonder about them. The smiling faces, immortalized on paper—until they too would fade to nothingness.

“Hmmm.” he hummed to himself as he dwelled in his morbid thoughts. Setting down the photograph of what must have been the Briggs when they were younger. He dodged the boxes and stacks of things that had only been vaguely recognizable. Everything was in a persistent state of decay and a faint, but foul scent coming from somewhere in the house. Dammers was sure that there was something dead inside.

What little sun was still peering through the boarded up windows, was beginning to diminish. Dammer’s knew he and Bannister needed to pick up the pace. He made a path into the kitchen. Wondering if the smell was coming from the stack of dishes, still filthy, that laid in the sink.

“That is disgusting.” Dammers mumbled to himself, nudging a dish forward and watching the roach spilling out from behind it.

“What is?”

“Ah…ow!” Dammers jumped, staggering backward into the dishes. The stack of them, shattering as they cascaded onto the floor. “Dammit Bannister.” Dammers cursed Frank for having snuck up on him.

“Hey man, sorry about that.” Frank apologized but looked as if he was trying to hold back a laugh. Dammers shrugged it off, straightening himself up when even more dishes felt off from the countertop.

“We are making a mess of this place.” Dammers said, looking around at the shattered bits of ceramic along the tile floor.

“Well, I don't think we can be doing that much more of that. Most of the upstairs is…well… the downstairs. There was nothing to see up there but the night sky and a few look downs into this level.” Frank replied.

“I see. Well, I have looked around all this floor. All except the dining room.” Dammers explained.

“Yeah, well thankfully there's no basement.” Frank laughed, giving Dammers a pat to the shoulder. Dammers being completely amused. The two men carried on further into the house, passing through an archway and into the dining room. It still had the table and chairs inside. The walls were covered in more old and peeling wallpaper and a dingy old curio cabinet that held old serving ware was seated over on the far side of the room. The floor was covered in more dirt and debris and an old oriental style rug that was placed under the table.

“Looks like this place is a bust.” Frank said, continuing to look around the room with Dammers following closely behind.

“Hmmm…seems that way…” Dammer responded as he watched Frank kick over the edge of the rug. The displacement reveals an etching of some kind just below it. Dammers’ eyes widened and he stopped in his tracks. “Bannister.”

“Yeah?” Frank asked as he turned to face him. Dammers still staring intently at the floor. “What is it?”

“The carpet.”

“Yeah, it uh…looks like something my wife would like.” Frank began to laugh when Dammers rushed over and grabbed his arm. Forcing Frank and himself to squat down towards the floor.

“No Bannister. LOOK.” Dammers insisted, this time Frank taking notice of what he saw. Frank began to pull back the rug, slowly uncovering what appeared to be a part of something larger carved into the floor.

“Dammers help me move the table, would you?” Frank asked, the two of them quickly pushing the table against the wall and moving the chairs so that the whole of the rug beneath was uncovered. Both Frank and Dammers stared at one another a moment, before they each took a corner of the rug. Rolling it up and over together to reveal the secret that was lying beneath.

“What in the hell?” Frank asked, staring down at it. There was a large circle with a star in its center taking up the majority of the floor. The symbol had been deeply set into the floorboards and then lined with something that looks like blood all along the edges. At the very center an area of charred wood and what looked like the remains of something that had been burned. Dammers knew instantly what it was, noticing too the black sun symbols that were at each of the star’s points.

“Bannister, we need to leave here now. We need to leave, and we need to notify Sheriff Perry “he said, a palpable fear in his voice.

“What is it?” Frank asked as Dammers grabbed his arm. Swallowing back as his heart began to pound away from behind his ribs.

“We are dealing with a necromancer.” Dammers whispered his eyes darting around the room as he pulled Frank towards the back door in the kitchen, their closest exit from the house. The two men stumbled through the rooms and went to head out the back door when suddenly they were ambushed.

Dammers was shoved down the stairs. Tumbling off the back porch and hitting his head along the post. The dark figure grabbed Frank, whipping him around as he struggled against him. "Dammers!" Frank called out.

Dammers' vision was fuzzy. As he attempted to stand up, the world was spinning around him. He could make the two of them out. Frank and another man.

The man was old, his clothing worn and tattered. The stench of him wafting over to him as he tried desperately to get his bearings. Dammers could see the fear in Frank's eyes as his vision cleared. The reason was undeniable.

The other man was decaying before them. Rotting wounds that no longer bled, all over his exposed flesh. Insects, dripping out from his crevices as he moved around. The man attacking Frank was dead .

As soon as Dammers could clearly see them both, he pulled his gun from his ankle strap and shot. Hoping that he wouldn't accidently hit Bannister. The shot rang out and the bullet ricocheted off the back porch. Splintering the wood just beside the two of them. Shit , Dammers thought having just missed.

"Could use a little help here!" Frank yelled out. The old man, trying to grab at Frank's throat.

"I'm trying!" Dammers yelled as he shot again. This time taking part of the man's head clean off his shoulders. The body wiggled around, still attempting to strangle Frank, when Dammers ran up to them and tore what remained of the head off the shoulders. The sound of tendons and ligaments, snapping from old husk-like bones, made Dammers' stomach flip. The man's head had gone rolling along the ground. Still making an ungodly growling noise.

"Ah!" Frank yelled as the body continued to attack him. Scratching and clawing at his face. For a moment Dammers stood frozen still. Watching in horror as the decapitated head contorted its face at him.

"Jesus Christ…it's still moving." He stuttered.

"Ya think?" Frank squeaked from within his throat, the hands still gripped tightly to him. Dammers shook himself out of his stupor and rushed over to the head, aiming his gun and firing a bullet straight into the eye socket. Instantly the body fell limp, dropping to the ground with Frank following suit. His face, covered in sweat as he held his neck and began gasping for air.

"Are you alright?" Dammers yelled as he ran towards him. Dropping down beside him and looking him over.

"I think so. Who or what the hell was that?" Frank asked as Dammers helped him stand up. Frank began hissing as he felt the large cut in his cheek. Both of them, thankful to be alive.

"Bannister…what we are dealing with here is far beyond your typical haunting. We need to leave right now. I have every reason to believe that—that man was Mr. Briggs." Dammers responded. They were shaken up as they passed by the corpses' remains. He was an old man with a long beard and fingernails like talons. Surely this couldn't be the same man the teenagers reported seeing? Was this really Mr. Briggs, 2 years after he had passed? And why now? The two of them, knowing deep down that this was far from over.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was the next day and Zoey Westin was struggling to get her keys from the pocket of her oversized black cardigan. Finally, she managed to locate them, unlocking the backdoor of the shop with only a few of her supplies having fallen onto the ground. “Agh.” she groaned, frustrated with starting off on the wrong foot, not to mention a lack of sleep. Nightmares had been plaguing her once again—ones that only left her with the feeling of terror but without a memory of what had occurred.

She had them before, but it had been years. Zoey wondered if maybe the stress of reopening the shop had triggered them. She tried to shrug them off, setting down her coffee and keys on the table in the stock room while quickly grabbing the boxes of beeswax from the ground. Going about the day as usual, as she made the turn of the front sign from closed to open.

She opened up one of the boxes of beeswax and set some up in the slow cooker to melt while she prepared the rest. A handful of wood wicks and half-pint glass jars to fill with it. Anymore and it would be too powerful, she thought. She grabbed a jar of dried magnolia, mullein, and rose from off the shelf. Mixing them all together in some oils before adding them to the pot of wax. The perfect combination for a subtle, but powerful spell. After all, love spells had been a specialty of the Westin line of witches since the 1600s.

Though no one was alive anymore that knew, Zoey was the last of her family that had descended from some very powerful witches. While several of them, having lost their lives during the Witch trials. Leaving only a small part of her family was lucky to get out alive. The survivors, migrating west and away from the hysteria of the Eastern coast. It was no wonder that the truth of her lineage had been kept secret, even from her until her 16th birthday.

Her mother and Aunt had taught her all they knew. Using their magic to influence the world. Blessing people with a boast in their confidence, or that bit of something special to find their true love. All of it done with the best of intentions and so subtle that no one would be able to connect it back to them.

Her mother and Aunt chose to practice their craft, hidden in plain sight behind the guise of a small, shared bakery—muffins and scones with a little something extra that kept bringing the customers back for more. Things were great for years, that was until a falling out between the sisters resulted in Zoey’s Aunt running off. Her mother left to run things on her own. It wasn’t too long after that, when her mother’s illness overtook her—Zoey, learning that there were some things even magic couldn’t fix.

Zoey still hadn’t heard anything from her aunt, even after she had tried to send word of her mom’s funeral. It wasn’t until years later when Zoey received a call from a lawyer in Fairwater. The man, telling her that she had inherited this old shop from her aunt. No one else but her, even mentioned in the will.

Now she wasn’t about to bake anything, but she did have some talent for crafts and a knack for knowing exactly how to manipulate the powers of the herbs. Zoey decided to cultivate her talents, making candles and waxes with small enchantments meant to influence others in a positive light. Bringing happiness in small doses to those who were kind enough to purchase from her shop. Thus, Of the Earth was born.

The move was a new start. A chance to be away from the bittersweet memories of her mother and to find herself. So, with a few boxes and a signed lease on an apartment, Fairwater had now become her home. At least that's what she was hoping to make of it.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Today was another day towards that goal. When the wax had thoroughly melted, Zoey began placing the wood wicks down into the center of the jars. Pouring in the wax, whispering to herself as she closed her eyes. Imbuing them with a touch of magic. These were her favorite to make. Made to bring love and happiness into the lives of others, hoping someday to get it back in return.

After the debacle that morning with the key, it seemed the stage was set for it to be a long day. Zoey hoped, however, that at least a few people would find their way into her shop. By the time noon hit, she had been seriously contemplating putting her intentions to spell. She decided against it, however, instead choosing to watch from the large windows as the warmth and pleasantness of the weather drew the residents outside.

She made do, passing the time while stocking the shelves and adjusting the front window display. Occasionally checking on the status of her new set of candles before returning to the front once more. Zoey couldn’t help but let out a sigh as she caught sight of an adorable family exiting the little bed and breakfast that sat just across the street.

Her mind began to wonder, remembering Lucy’s daughter from the day before, such a sweet little girl. Zoey had always wanted to be a mother, especially after growing up with one as lovely as her own. She had been desperate for one of her relationships to work out enough for her to become one. Though all of them failed miserably, sometimes for that very reason. The men she dated, completely uninterested in commitment to her, let alone to a child.

As mind continued to drift, she found herself having thoughts of Dammers. The strange but kind man who had stumbled over himself in her presence. Making a mess of her shop and struggling to make eye contact. She felt a smile tugging at her lips. Her face, becoming flush as she imagined him. His sleek black hair, deep brown almost black eyes, the small mole above his lips, and the adorable way his ears stuck out—just a bit.

She had been thinking about him all the night before, though she wondered if her meddling with her love candles might have also affected her current compulsion. No, there was something else—something about him that drew her to him. Maybe it was that he was mysterious? It wasn't everyday someone like Dammers was around—especially in a small town like this. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t find him incredibly handsome, unable to help herself from imagining what his lips might feel like pressed against hers. Zoey would spend all day thinking about him if she could. Wondering if she’d see him again. Her odd, mysterious man in black.

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Dammers and Frank waited in Sheriff Perry’s office. Dammers pacing back and forth as Frank fussed with the edge of the medical tape that was beginning to peel off from the dressing on his cheek. “Would you stop doing that, you're making me nervous Dammers.” Frank chided.

“You know I have problems waiting.” Dammers explained, “He told us he would meet us here at 10:30AM…it is precisely 11:00AM Bannister.”

“Yeah…I know.” Frank sighed, running his hands through his hair and slumping down in his seat. Suddenly the door swung open, almost clipping Dammers before Sheriff Perry made his way into the office.

“Sorry to have kept you waiting.” he said, taking a seat as Dammers stood impatiently waiting in the corner. Hoping that he’d just get on with it.

“So…” Frank began looking back and forth between them.

“So…I sent a few of my guys down to the Brigg’s place and they found—they found exactly what you said they’d find.” Perry began. Dammers brought himself over to the seat beside Bannister, sitting down for a moment before impulsively needing to get back up and continue his pacing.

“And…what do we plan to do about this Sheriff?” Dammers asked. Frank rolling his eyes at Dammers’ neurotic behavior.

“Walt”, Frank began as he leaned in closer to the desk, “...these aren't ghosts we’re dealing with here. The guy was up moving around. Almost killed me.” Frank reminded him.

“Well, it sure wasn’t moving when we found it.” Sheriff Perry assured him.

“What did you all do with him?” Frank asked him.

“What we could find of the body was cremated and the ashes returned to the family. We told them that the sightings and things were the work of some prankster teenagers that got too carried away. I assured them the investigation was ongoing.”

“You lied to them.” Dammers muttered in the corner. Rubbing his gloved hands together as he was connecting the dots in his head.

“What did you expect him to do, Dammers, tell them their loved one was a zombie?” Frank asked him.

"Technically Bannister the tissue had long since been unable to ambulate, but rather his body was possessed by a spirit---a spirit able to reanimate the flesh." Dammers told them, in his own ominous kind of way.

“Thanks for the clarification.” Frank smirked sarcastically, turning back to give Perry a look before the Sheriff continued on.

“So what is it we are dealing with here Milton?”

“I believe we have ourselves a Necromancer gentleman. Someone able to reanimate the dead. It explains everything…now we just need to find out who.” Dammers explained, continuing to mumble to himself. The sheriff grabbed a folder from within his desk and pulled out a report, handing it over to Frank.

“We found the remains Milton mentioned around the…um…symbol. Can’t say for sure what it is, we aren’t able to do that kind of analysis here—”

“That's alright, I will get in touch with one of my contacts in the FBI and have it analyzed.” Dammers told him.

Perry nodded, “Just let me know where I'm sending it. Until then you two keep an eye out for anything suspicious. I can’t go out and tell all my men to be on the lookout for attacking corpses.” Perry winced, rubbing his temples from the brewing headache he was getting.

“Sure thing.” Frank said as stood up. He and Dammers, ready to head out and return to the office. Hoping to find some answers as they researched what they had seen. But just as they crossed through the doorway, Dammers poked his head back inside Sheriff Perry’s office. Getting his attention by clearing his throat before he spoke.

“Whatever is going on here Sheriff, we will get to the bottom of it.”

#reblogs

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oranpo · 10 months

Text

Rooted in your love - P7: Forlorn Hope

Cardinal Copia x F!Reader - Primo x F!Reader, Secondo x F!Reader, Terzo x F!Reader

Word count: 5.5k

Warnings: Mature. Hanahaki Disease and all that comes with that (choking, being sick, acceptance of death, etc), Eventual Smut, Eventual 18+ acts, Angst, Unrequited Love.

Fic Summary: You couldn't pinpoint when exactly you had fallen in love with the newly arrived Cardinal, but one was certain: you had Hanahaki disease.

Chapter summary: As Primo and Secondo reflect on the events of the day, Copia decides to seek you out, only to be confronted by the one appointed to guard you. Terzo soaks in your radiance.

A03 link, to read all previous chapters and chapter 7!

Song Inspiration for Rooted In Your Love 💕

Primo sighed heavily from where he sat, eyes roaming over every single item you had ever given him as his mind continued to run itself in circles. Full glad was he of your awakening, yes, heart already feeling lighter after seeing your beautiful smile aimed at him so easily after waking… yet an uneasy feeling settled within his bones, gnawing at his senses.

Something in your eyes had seemed… off. Never had he seen such a look in your eyes, your normally mesmerizing gaze appearing… well, almost as if you had experienced something whilst deeply asleep, something that, even now, lingered over your conscious shoulder like a specter, ready to strike. He knew not if you had dreamt during the time you slumbered in his bed, or if total darkness of the mind had been the only thing you had experienced, but something more than your current state had caused that look in your eyes. How true the saying was, that the eyes were the windows to one’s soul.

The retired Papa Emeritus I leaned back in his armchair, ungloved hands flexing at the memory of your visage as you’d spoken of going to fetch Secondo; you mustn’t have known how anxious you had outwardly appeared, your expression reminding him of what a child who feared being seen looked like-

“Perhaps you were always destined to fail, son of Emeritus…” A voice whispered against the shell of his ear, the sound almost resembling that of wind passing through a graveyard, bringing with it the lingering feeling of dread and despair.

“Fail as a Papa…”

Primo dared not open his eyes, for he knew what an entity such as this sought.

“Fail as a friend…”

It sought to drive him mad, drive him to insanity.

“Fail as…”

It sought to dig its taloned nails into his clavicle-

“… her caretaker…”

It laughed lowly, a guttural sound that came from deep within the chasm of its body, or whatever was left of it, Primo surmised by the lack of sound as it moved to his other ear.

“Your father always thought the Emeritus Eye was a blessing…” It continued, louder this time, closer to his ear as its decayed fingers carded through his blond hair before tugging harshly, causing Primo to inhale sharply as his head hit the back of his armchair, attempting to trick the Papa into opening his eyes.

“He never once considered that it would become a curs-“

Primo awoke suddenly with a gasp, dissimilar eyes shooting open whilst his head shot forward, surveying the area surrounding him for too long of a moment before finally allowing himself to sigh. A dream, it had only been a dream.

What a crock of shit it was, to become old. Why had his body chosen now, of all times, to fall asleep? Furthermore, how long had he been asleep for?

A quick glance at the clock informed him it had only been 11 minutes since you had departed to fetch Secondo… surely you must have made your way to his side already, unless you had-

The eldest Emeritus son stood hurriedly at the thought, groaning moments after as his back protested such a quick movement while running on so little sleep.

He knew not what had shaken you so during your slumber but back pain and ghosts be damned, he would find out what it was.

_________________

Secondo soundlessly stood in the kitchens, shoulders sagged as he continued to warm up the supper he had quickly made for both he and Primo.

He was loath to admit it, but his elder brother had been right: no matter how much time he spent at your side, nothing would come of it were he to let himself waste away.

How was he to protect and help you if he were not healthy himself? He sighed once again, slight irritation prickling at his skin as he continued to stir the pasta he had made, mismatched eyes focused on the task at hand-

A sudden movement to his right caused the man to hiss in annoyance, sneering as he turned to see what, or who, had disturbed him.

There, standing frozen like a metal pole in the cold, stood the Sister of Sin he had fucked all those days ago, staring at him with wide eyes.

Briefly, for a mere second, Secondo mulled over the idea of speaking to the Sister, albeit having no real desire to. It was his role as a Papa however, to see to his flock’s concerns, no matter how unwilling he may feel about it. Sure he was known to be rough, serious, even, but there was one thing he was not: he, Papa Emeritus II, was not a bad Papa. No, he was not his Father.

However, displeasure still roiled inside the man at the thought of potentially having to listen to her beg him to fuck her again, something that would never happen ever agai-

The Sister turned and ran, the sound of her footsteps loud as she retreated to who-knows-where. Had it been tears he had seen in her eyes? Had the woman truly begun to cry at the mere sight of him? A scoff exited from between his lips at the Sister’s actions.

The retired Papa wondered if jealously coursed through her veins at the rumors of you being his Prime Mover.

Well… Of course she’d be jealous, it had been your name that he had accidentally gasped out while cumming all over her backside.

How could he not have said it, when it had only been you he had thought about during the whole thing, crying out his name as he made love to you, venerated you like a Deity fallen to Earth?

How could he have not have said your name, when it was the only name he wished to speak until his dying breath?

But most of all: how could he not have whispered it out, when your visage, illuminated by the sunsets light, was (and still is) the only thing that he saw when he closed his eyes?

It was only seconds later did a second hiss escape the man, unceremoniously pulled out of his mind, this time due to the acrid smell of burnt pasta flooding his nostrils.

If any living being within the Abbey had heard Papa Emeritus II cursing heavily in Italian about pasta or the sound of a pot being thrown across the kitchen, they knew to forget of the incident immediately.

_________________

Dreams were an ephemeral thing; in the blink of an eye, they would be gone. Mere images and scenarios conjured by the mind, yet at the same time, deep realms of misunderstood knowledge that only few knew how to navigate. Copia was not one of those people. Once sleep found him, nothing could save him from the dreams or nightmares that would haunt and taunt him with things he couldn’t have. Namely, those ‘things’ were you.

Now fully awake for no apparent reason, Copia sighed in frustration, staring at his ceiling, as if it would reveal to him secrets unimaginable to man on how to fall asleep again… or how to win the Sibling of Sin of your dreams, who seems to be followed constantly by two of your ‘bosses’.

Tonight he’d dreamt of something new, something he had never dreamt about- well, partly never dreamt about. You he had dreamt about a thousand if not a million of times, sure. The area in which his dream had taken place? Never had he dreamt of you in such a setting.

There you had sat, hand playing against his clothed thigh, the eerie atmosphere of the mausoleum in which the two of you sat felt.. stifling, as if you both sat in a crowded room. He could no longer remember if he had gazed upon your beautiful visage or if he had simply stared at your hand, inching dangerously close up his thigh. You hadn’t spoken and neither had he, yet the silence between the two of you felt loud, the sound of your thoughts practically deafening. It had only been once he thought of how hard his cock had become that the dream had begun to fade. Oh how he craved to know if you had ever felt even an inkling of what he felt for you for him.

How many times had he awoken during long nights to find his cock painfully hard, fingers already moving to relieve himself of said pressure? How many nights had he laid there in his bed, eyes shut as he imagined it to be you instead touching him, jerking him off into oblivion, hushed words of love spoken against his ear? The thought always made him flush, to imagine you between his legs. Oh how beautiful you would look, eyes watching him as you got him closer and closer towards the edge. He wondered how long it would take for the sound of your moans to fill his room, should it be him between your thighs.

He would always keen your name while half-mindedly wondering if the Ghouls could hear him through his chamber’s walls, whispering your name like a God whispered to its creations, love overflowing. Could they hear how desperate he became with each second that went by, hands working his cock faster and faster, imagining the way you would bounce in his lap, pushing him down into his sheets as you took your pleasure from his body? Would you allow him to flip the both of you over, pounding into your heated core as words of veneration and love spilt from his lips?

Copia forced his legs to swing over the side of his bed, heart pounding as he tried to think of anything other than the image of you under him, calling his name. No, such thoughts would remain in his bed; for now, he was on a mission.

A mission to see you.

—————————

The Ghoul known as Phil already knew of the man’s state before seeing him; he could practically smell the desperation and worry wafting off the Cardinal as he approached the corridor leading to Papa Emeritus I’s chambers, which he stood guard of.

It was almost ridiculous the number of times he had caught the man lingering near the corridor leading to Primo’s chambers, always visibly attempting to psych himself up before abandoning whatever endeavor he’d set himself on entirely, returning to his own chambers like a kicked little puppy. The pungent scents of shame and humiliation would cling to the man for hours after, irritating the Ghoul’s nose and senses.

He of course wasn’t a fool; he knew why the Cardinal roamed the halls leading to Primo’s doors. His nose had already told him as much, not to mention the lovesick expression he perpetually seemed to wear everyday; It was practically imprinted in the Ghoul’s mind.

Phil decided to cut the human some slack, for once, calling out to man down the hallway.

“Trouble sleeping again, Cardinal?”

The sound exiting from down the darkened hallway scared the Cardinal out of his skin; he had thought himself alone to be awake at this godforsaken hour. Of course the Special Ghoul would still be at his post, guarding Papa Emeritus I’s doors like a hawk, ready to lash out and kill if need be.

“Y-Yes, eh, trouble sleeping-“ Copia tried as he approached the demon from Hell itself, words immediately dying within his throat as the Ghoul spoke over him, his tone amused but serious.

“Am I correct in assuming that it is not by happenstance that you find yourself once more outside of Papa Emeritus I’s doors?” Ominous were the green eyes that gleamed within the dark, practically unblinking, waiting for an answer. The thought of lying to the Ghoul once more quickly came to the Cardinal’s mind, however… lying would not get him an audience with Primo, let alone.. an audience with you.

“No.. I…” Copia attempted to try and find the right words to express his burning need to see you, heart beating heavily against his chest. Would the Ghoul even tell him if your situation had gotten worse? Sure he had spoken to the Ghoul in the past and had friendly(-ish) rapports with him, but who was he himself to you, except for a strange stranger?

A silent moment went by, the Ghoul’s stare continuous and as deep as before, equally silent as he awaited for the man before him to speak. The Cardinal squared his shoulders, despite the dreadful feeling of raw desperation ravaging at his insides, and spoke.

“No, it is not. May I know if Sorel- if Papa Emeritus II’s Prime Mover has awoken?”

Phil paused at Copia’s words, tail slowly beginning to swish behind him in mild annoyance.

He found the man’s words strange; when had you no longer become deserving of your very name, instead simply called by your (rumored) newfound role? The Ghoul doubted it to be out of malice; he could smell the man’s fear, his hesitation, the raw nervousness that rolled off of his skin. It smelt sour, nearly strong enough for the Demon to lean away from the Cardinal, unwilling to be subjected to the scents of his emotional rollercoaster. But even if not spoken with malicious intent, the aloof Cardinal’s words still aggravated him.

“Sorella Y/N has left Papa Emeritus I’s chambers.”

Silence.

Copia blinked absentmindedly, wondering if he had heard the Ghoul correctly. You had left? You were no longer asleep? When had you-

“L-left- Where is- Sh-“ Try as he might to speak, Copia found his throat constricting closed, brain unable to process the information that not only had you awoken from whatever it was that had plagued you, but that you had awoken AND had already left the protected sanctuary that was Primo’s roo-

Eyes wide, Copia glanced at the imposing doors behind the Ghoul’s back, wanting to burst in and demand answers from the Papa who had been at your side this whole time… who was still supposed to be at your side, right?

“Where is Papa Emeritus I? Where is Primo?”

It was now Phil’s turn to blink, lips pursing behind his mask, unwilling to answer the man. He knew what the Cardinal would do if he told him that Papa Emeritus I had just left in search of you, and if he were right about the scent he had picked up emanating from your body the day you had fallen unconscious, perhaps allowing the Cardinal to do whatever he liked could lead to your demise.

“Both Papa Emeritus I and Sorella Y/N have gone out into Papa’s gardens on the South side of the Ministry, for some fresh air.” Phil easily lied, watching as the man’s mismatched eyes widened, the sound of his heart beginning to beat erratically against his chest, almost as if practically threatening to burst out. For a moment, a brief, sliver of a moment, Phil the Special Ghoul wondered if he had been right in lying to the Cardinal.

As he watched the human man begin to hastily walk away after speaking a quick ‘grazie’, he wondered if perhaps he had just wrongfully redirected the only things that could save you from the bloody flowers that grew within your lungs.

“Cardinal! One moment, if you please.”

“Sì?” Copia stopped and turned, politely waiting as the Ghoul attempted to find the right words without letting on WHY he was asking.

“Are you familiar with flowers in the Narcissus family? Such as daffodils and jonquils?” Phil found himself asking, mind entirely blank as the very words left from between his unglamored gray lips.

Had he just asked that-

Once more did the Ghoul’s tail begin to move from where it had laid on the floor, however, this time, in agitation of his own actions. He shouldn’t have asked that.

Suddenly, the Special Ghoul found himself wondering who would torture him first between Papa Emeritus I or Papa Emeritus II, for having possibly just hinted at your condition to another being, even after they had both explicitly made him vow to keep it a secret-

“Daffodils and jonquils?” Copia repeated, confused at the Ghoul’s bizarre words.

“I am familiar with them, yes, though I am unsure if I would be able to distinguish them both.” A slight confused smile graced Copia’s lips as he tried to ponder on the meaning of the demon’s words.

Sweat began to bead along the Ghoul’s forehead; here Copia had simply been, worried and seeking to speak with you, while he- Phil breathed in, eyes slightly widening at the thought. Oh, perfect.

“I see. I.. simply thought it wise to warn you that if you were to pluck such flowers out of Papa Emeritus I’s gardens for a quick… bouquet, I believe Sorella Y/N would be most unhappy as they are.. not her favored flowers.” He easily lied with the emotion necessary, bowing his head in feigned embarrassment. The sweat rolling down his temple felt cold, just like his blood would surely feel should either Papas find out of his slip-up.

Copia’s visage lit up like a sky filled with fireworks, eyes sparkling as he shot forward to touch the Ghoul’s shoulder, shaking him out of his thoughts.

“Grazie mille, Special Ghoul! Truly, grazie!”

The Cardinal departed hurriedly, almost appearing like he wanted to run to your ‘whereabouts’ but was attempting to remain calm. As soon as his figure disappeared once more around the corner he had come from, the Special Ghoul known as Phil turned, silently cracking open the door to Papa Emeritus I’s chambers.

There it was again, the inexplicably heavy fragrance of Daffodils and Jonquils.

But also, the scent of…

Phil sniffed the air again, luminous green eyes unseeing as his mind attempted to place just where he had become familiar with such a sme-

Suddenly, the Special Ghoul understood as his mind placed where he had smelt such a scent, the hand that lay against the doorknob tightening momentarily before falling away. Oh, how cruel.

Phil knew that soon, nothing of you would remain but the memory of your name.

Yes, your name deserved to be remembered.

—————————

“Terzo.” You silently whispered into the space between the both of you, mind forgetting just how intimate of a position you would appear to be in, should anyone possibly pass by and see the two of you. The only response you received from the man was a brief hum, enough of a sound to let you know he had heard you and was listening, forehead still pressed to your own as the both of you swayed to a song none of you could hear.

“Why is it that you kissed me?”

Even with his eyes closed, the raven-haired Papa knew that your smile radiated warmth and kindness as you awaited his answer, with a patience he felt he did not deserve. It almost felt like an omen, that someone like you would be dealt such a curse, that the very love you felt for someome within the Abbey corroded your body from the inside out, a vicious poison that sought to destroy you, it’s kind and beautiful vessel. Oh, how he wished for his kiss to have worked.

As your words sunk into Terzo’s very marrow, he found himself unable to fully look at you yet. Unwilling, perhaps, was the better word for how he felt; if he were to gaze at you now, would this very moment be the last he ever remembered of you? Of your solemnly beautiful eyes staring back at him, so full of life and emotions and warmth, yet fading as snow faded under the sun’s heat? Or would his mind instead remember the way you clutched at him as you both danced, your body visibly beginning to tire itself out? He tightened his hold around your waist, bringing you closer as his other hand remained in your grasp, supporting more of your weight without causing you to shy away from his hold.

He briefly contemplated lying to you. Well, half-of-a-second briefly, but a half of a second nonetheless. You didn’t deserve that, however, no matter how long he contemplated it. You deserved better. You deserved truth.

“I hoped that… that my kiss would work, that it would heal... Eh, sense my…” He tried, forehead withdrawing from your own as the warm hand clasped against yours moved from your hold, gesturing wildly into the air in an attempt to find his words. A smile once more graced your lips, watching as the Papa abandoned his search, sighing.

“Sense your what, Terzo?” You asked, allowing his hand to return to its previous place against your own. Grateful were you of his perceptiveness, leaning into his hold as your body began to ache, tiredness overcoming you. Of course it did; you’d just slept 3 days and had not yet eaten, water being the only thing that had entered your body.

“Fear.” He suddenly whispered, eyebrows furrowing as if surprised by his own words. He cleared his throat, continuing to sway you left and right.

“My fears, and my hope… to heal you. This sickness, it is smart, no?”

You almost didn’t even register the Papa’s attempt at humor as your mind focused instead on WHAT he’d said.

Terzo, Papa Emeritus III, current leader of the Satanic church you had devoted yourself to, had wanted to save you. He had kissed you in hopes that the sickness that inhabited your very body would sense his desperation and fears, and disappear.

Tears began forming once more as you regarded the man practically pressed up against you, holding more and more of your weight as time went on; he wanted to help you continue to dance along with him, help you remain standing, help you to relax.

“Terzo-“ You choked out, watching silently as realization colored his handsome features before immediately being replaced by panic.

“Basta piangere, va bene Bella? No more crying, sì?” Terzo hurriedly spoke, squeezing both your hand and your waist, as if to accentuate the words he’d spoken. He found he could not stand to see you tear up, to see the pain within your eyes where joy should instead be. Moonlight that slithered in from the tall glass panes above bathed you in a beautiful light, your tears dazzling like fallen stars, almost as if you were about to be called to your- Terzo stopped his thought, unwilling to finish it.

“Come, la mia stella, allow me to heat you up, you’re freezing!”

“It’s almost as if Im lacking a heart beat.” You expressed with a chuckle, intending your comment to be taken with sarcasm, but so too did your comment fall flat, just as Terzo’s had before. Faintly, in the back of your mind, you registered the fact that you did not recognize the nickname he had just uttered.

“That is far from the truth.” Silence once more clung to the both of you as you now stood immobile together, hands still linked together in the air. Terzo regarded you with a sad smile before seeming to flip on himself, grinning like a man about to make the crudest joke ever known to mankind. You knew that smile; it had been the very one he had had whilst asking you so confidently if you were Papa Secondo’s Prime Mover. Now, however, even as he perfectly replicated the smile he had worn four days ago, it was his eyes that betrayed him, betrayed the visage he attempted the keep in place for either your sake, or his own.

“You say you are lacking of a heart beat, but all I see is a hot-“

Papa Emeritus III’s mouth shut instantly as he truly took in the sight of you; before, when seated beside you on the pew, he had not realized what exactly you had been wearing, too immersed in apologizing to you and the revelation of your sickness to notice. But now, as he looked you up and down, the joke about your hot body he had intended on regalling you with dying on his tongue, Terzo blurted out the only thing that flashed within his mind like a giant neon sign.

“Are those Primo’s favorite sleep pants?”

Heat irrupted across your entire body at the Papa’s words whilst you also looked down at yourself, remembering that you were infact wearing Primo’s sleep pants, given to you by the man himself to wear since it was chilly within the Abbey’s walls at night. That they were his favorite, however, was new information.

The normally flamboyant man before you recovered far more quickly then you did, grinning widely as the arm around your waist pulled you in once more, your pelvis practically molded onto his own. The Papa seemed not to notice as he continued on what he had intended on saying.

“Mio fratello’s pants look far more appealing on you, stellina! Perhaps is it because of the lack of cock-“

He’d barely finished his phrase before you groaned out, face scrunching up in embarrassment as you attempted to lean forward, wanting to hide your burning face onto his chest.

Satan, you’d been so distracted by the thought of wearing Primo’s bathrobe that you hadn’t fully realized these WERE a pair of his sleep pants.

“Were you the one that chose those pants, stellina, or did Primo give those to you?” Terzo asked, a smile ever present upon his lips as he continued to sway your body left and right. You failed to notice, however, the sadness that had begun to overtake his visage once more. Dissimilar eyes remained glued to your expression as he remembered a long forgotten promise, words Primo had told him ages ago, when both Secondo and he were but children, seeking out their father figure’s attention before bed.

“Primo, why do you not have a Prime Mover?”

The slap Secondo had hit him on the arm with burned, a hiss exiting his angered brother as a young Terzo regarded him with pain, tears beginning to form within his mismatched eyes.

“Idiot! Do not ask such things!”

Primo, sage and patient far beyond his age, frowned lightly, moving to kneel between his little brothers beds. He reached out, taking hold of Terzo’s little arm, thumb rubbing softly against the red skin that began to form there, attempting to sooth his pain.

“Ah, fratellino, do not be so mean to your brother. He does not understand yet what it means.”

The young Secondo looked down, the air of a scolded child emanating from his little form. Terzo, although only a few months younger than Secondo, turned to his brother, hand outstretched for his brother to hold.

“See, Secondo? Your brother loves you, and only wishes to understand. Now, what do we do when we’ve hurt someone we love?” No matter how much Secondo pretended to be a bitter little child, Primo knew him, knew them both. Too many times had he seen the middle Emeritus son defend their little brother when Nihil lost his temper, unable to watch as their father yelled at Terzo like he wasn’t his own son.

“Sorry…” Secondo whispered, a trait he had taken up when he did not trust his voice, hand moving to hold Terzo’s little hand back.

“There we go. As it should be. Now it is time for bed-“

“But Primo! I still don’t understand why!” Terzo piped up again, eyes wide with confusion as his raven colored eyebrows furrowed, unable to grasp why his eldest brother did not have a wife or a husband or a partner. Secondo grunted out in annoyance, instantly letting go of his brother’s hand. Primo chuckled at the boy’s pettiness, knowing he would grow to become a serious man with little to no patience for the whirlwind Terzo would become.

“Sometimes, having a Prime Mover does not mean you are in love with them, Terzo.” Primo softly spoke, watching as both boys regarded him in confusion. “I have not accepted to have a Prime Mover because I have not fallen in love yet, frattelino. I have not found them, my intended that I hope will become my Prime Mover.”

“When you do find them, how will we know?” Terzo countered, one eyebrow raised as he attempted to understand something.

“An announcement will be made to alllll the people of the Mini-“

“Yes we know that, Primo! That’s not what I meant!” The youngest of the three let out, groaning and whining with a frown as his little feet kicked under his blanket. A petulant child, that’s what he had been at the time, but child nonetheless. A child that wished to understand why his brother spent his nights and days alone while Siblings and Ghouls alike spent their nights together having sleepovers.

“Then think on what you meant to say, Terzo, and try again.” The patience and love in Primo’s tone caused the youngest of the three to nod, taking the task at heart.

Silence surrounded the three brothers before Terzo piped up once more, finally decisive on how to phrase what he truly had meant to ask.

“How will Secondo and I know who you have chosen? Who you have fallen in love with?”

The middle Emeritus son remained quiet as Terzo spoke once more, but his eyes revealed to the Eldest just how in agreement he was with his brother’s words. A rare sight.

“Hm, a smart question indeed…” Primo pondered on the child’s words, mind racing to give them both a satisfactory enough answer for them to finally lay down and sleep for the night.

“How about this: When I will have fallen in love with someone, I will gift them these pants that you both have given to me, and I will ask my love to wear them for all to see. Only you two will know of its significance. How’s that?” Primo tried, hand gesturing to the silken sleep pants he currently wore. There, an easy answer. Now they would surely go to slee-

“That’s stupid. What if you give them to someone to sleep with by accident, or they get stolen?” Secondo grumbled from his little bed, arms crossed over his blanket, dark eyebrows furrowed in doubt. Terzo nodded furiously, lips about to part to surely protest which would further lead to their bedtime being pushed.

“Ah! Would I be so careless as to give my favorite sleep pants to someone I did not love, or allow them to be stolen from under my big nose?”

Unbeknownst to Primo, years into the future, Terzo would remember the words he had whispered to them, a secret shared only between the three of them.

“Oh! Papa Primo gave them to me to wear, seeing how chilly it is here during the night.” You answered, your very words further proven right by the shiver that racked your body.

Hanahaki Disease was a disease caused by unrequited love, was it not? Terzo racked his mind as he attempted to understand how you had come to be in possession of the very pants Primo had told him he would give the person he loved, yet you were still sick. If you loved his brother just as much as he imagined Primo loved you, Terzo doubted that Primo would allow you to suffer like this. That would mean that the person you were in love with was not his brother.

“My fratello is quite knowledgeable, is he not? Perhaps he knows-“ For what felt like the umpteenth, Papa Emeritus III stopped speaking, eyes unseeing as his mind blazed to life, synapses firing as he attempted to understand his own thoughts. Knows. Knows. Did Primo know who you loved, who your heart hammered so furiously for? Was it possible that you had developed Hanahaki Disease because of your perception of someone’s feelings, and not factually about how they felt? Did you perhaps love Primo just as much as he loved you, but were unaware of the man’s feelings, perhaps believing him not capable of falling in love with you?

“Stella mia, your disease, it is a disease of unrequited love, sì? It has to be unrequited for you to be sick?” The third Emeritus son asked hurriedly, voice ringing loudly against the chapel’s walls whilst he tried to get his words out as quickly as possible.

“Shhh! Yes-“ You had barely begun to whisper before the Papa pressed against you stepped back, dragging you along with him, seeming resolute in leaving the chapel to instead go-

“We are going to go confess to the person you love right now!” He exclaimed, a desperately shaky grin forming on his lips. Your eyebrows creased at his words before a frown overtook your visage, heart breaking at the tentative hopefulness coloring his features.

“Papa- Terzo, he doesn’t-“ You tried again, words falling short as he spoke over you.

“Oh, it is a he! He would be a fool to turn you down, bella!” Terzo proclaimed with even more enthusiasm, pulling you along with him as he began walking-

“Terzo-“

#AEHHPEEHAPHAEHEHHEPEHEOEHPEHPFOHPOHSOPFHS #I CANNNOF TFU FCKING #bye guys... I'm not gonna do anything else tonight but read Ronnie's fic CHAU #reblogs #(GOES FERAL OVER FRIEND'S FICCY)

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