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ramblingoak · 1 year

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Play Ball

You weren’t the only one that loved that baseball uniform...

Copia x Female Reader, NSFW, 18+ only (MDNI), lots of smut. Like all smut. 3,500k words. Enjoy.

“Papa, you still need to sig-oh shit!”

You quickly covered your eyes, dropping the stack of paperwork you had been holding. Sheet after sheet of the touring budget flew across his bedroom. You spun around to look away from where he was sprawled out across his bed.

“Uh sorella, le mie scuse (my apologies),” You heard fabric rustling and hoped he was shoving himself back into his pants. His baseball pants. Oh Lucifer, you had thought of him in that White Sox uniform on a daily basis since that night last year. And apparently he had kept it.

And now he was wearing them while jacking off.

You took a deep breath and uncovered your eyes only to look directly into his floor length mirror and see him still trying to shimmy the pants back up over his dick. Belial. Your hands flew up again. Ok. Ok, you needed to go, why were you still standing there?

“I’m sorry Papa! Sister Imperator sent me over to make sure you signed off on the budget but you weren’t at your desk. So I uh, so I came to your quarters and your door was open and then I knocked on your bedroom door and I swore I heard you say my name and then I…yeah. I’m so sorry. Very, very sorry.” You shut up and took a deep breath. Waiting for him to finally yell at you to get out.

You jumped when you felt gloved hands grasp your elbows and gently spin you around. His hands slid up your arms and then he pulled your hands away from your face. Copia’s mismatched eyes stared down into yours and you held your breath still expecting him to yell at you. Instead he smiled and pulled your hands up to his lips to place a kiss in each palm.

“Breathe sorella, it is alright. I am not mad, ok?” You took a deep breath and nodded. He hadn’t let go of your hands yet, instead he was now placing a kiss on the tip of each of your fingers. “You heard correctly cara mia, I did say your name. I was imagining you here with me.”

“Oh.” Now he was nipping your fingertips, some of the paint on his lips starting to transfer onto your skin. You weren’t sure what else to say. ‘I was just imagining you in this uniform while I was touching myself in the shower this morning?’ Was that too forward?

“Hmm, yes ‘oh’. Sorella, your Papa has a confession, can I tell you this?” You nodded your head not trusting yourself not to say something stupid. “I’ve thought of you quite often, here in my bed.”

“Oh.” Copia chuckled and moved his lips down to your wrist, sneaking his tongue out to touch your fluttering pulse. He traced back and forth over it for a moment before pulling away slightly. His gazed traced over your face and grinned at the dumbfounded expression you were wearing. Maybe you had fallen in the shower and were imagining all of this.

“I’ve wanted you since you started working for Imperator dolce, so much.” One of his arms snaked around your waist and pulled you tight against his chest. A gasp escaped you when his hard cock rubbed against your belly. You brought your hands up to his chest and began to trace the letters there and you shyly looked up into his face. “And you know what else? I think you want me too, am I right?”

“Yes, Papa.” You had barely finished speaking when he slanted his mouth over yours, stealing your breath away. His tongue immediately demanded entrance into your mouth and you opened for him. You brushed your tongue against his when it slid inside and he groaned and began to tangle his with yours roughly. Copia brought both of his hands up to your face and cradled your cheeks briefly before sliding them into your hair. He gave your strands a quick tug and you moaned against his mouth at the sensation.

Copia pulled away and growled at you before he began to propel you back against the wall next to his doorway. He moved his mouth down to your neck and began to nip and worry at the skin with his teeth. You slipped one hand into his hair to keep him in place but let your other hand slide around to his ass and you gripped him as tightly as you could. He bit down hard at your pulse and you gasped out at the slight pain.

“Sorella, let me take you. Let your Papa fuck you. Per favore (please).” He shifted his hands down your body, stopping to cup your breasts through your habit. His thumbs rubbed against your nipples and even through the layers of your habit and bra it felt amazing. You closed your eyes and let your head thunk against the wall.

When his hands pulled away from your breasts you whimpered at the loss of contact. Instead he dragged them down your sides and stopped at your waist, slowly tugging at your habit and dragging it up your thighs to bunch in his fists. Thank Satan you were wearing nice panties today. Copia seemed to like them as he gazed at them and then dragged a finger along the black lace on top.

“Così carina, così pronta per me, vero? (So pretty, so ready for me, aren’t you?)” You nodded your head quickly, silently begging for his hands to keep touching you. He leaned back in towards your face and unholy fuck he was so handsome. His eyes were wild and you could see where his skin was flushed where the paint had rubbed off. You could feel the heat radiating off of him through the uniform. “Well mio dolce (my sweet), can I have you? Will you be mine?”

You shivered as his breath tickled your cheek when he spoke. His tongue snuck out to trace the edge of your ear and wow why were you making him work so hard? You tugged at his hair with the hand still tangled in his locks and he pulled away, his face hovering just over yours. “I’m yours, Papa.”

The feral grin that graced his face nearly made your knees buckle but instead he was the one that dropped down. He planted himself in front of you and wasted no time pushing your habit further up your chest. You gripped the bottom and ripped it over your head letting it fall to the side. Your hands flew to his head when he immediately covered your cunt with his mouth. His tongue rubbing against the already wet fabric of your panties.

He pulled away after a few moments and impatiently tugged at them to get them down your legs. You couldn’t stop yourself from giggling as you had to dance from foot to foot to stay standing. Copia helped you steady yourself and then looked up at you as he gripped one of your calves and slung it over his shoulder. His eyes didn’t leave yours as he leaned forward and dragged his tongue through your cunt.

Your eyes rolled back and you dug your heel between his shoulders as his tongue worked between your lips. It danced around your clit and then slid down to play around your entrance. You couldn’t help but try to grind your hips into his face but he gripped your ass to keep you where you were. His tongue was ruthless with you, pushing as far into you as he could and moaning against you as your wetness coated his tongue.

You felt one of his hands come around to join in, the leather sliding against your slick skin. His fingers teased at your entrance, dragging over your opening while his tongue moved to concentrate on your clit. When his lips closed around the small bud he slid a finger inside and rubbed it against your walls. You bucked and cried out when another finger joined the first, barely able to keep yourself upright.

“Oh fuck, Papa!” He groaned against you and the sensation vibrated against your wet skin. His fingers began to fuck you faster and his tongue flicked furiously against your clit. You could hear him working in and out of your wet entrance, even above his growls and your moans.

Your head fell forward when he sucked your clit hard and the sight of him on his knees in that baseball uniform was all it took. You came harder than you ever had, practically falling over him as his fingers continued to pump in and out of you as you came down from your orgasm. He leaned back to watch them work in and out a few more times and then pushed his head closer again to drag his tongue over you. Lapping up the wetness that covered your cunt.

You patted his head a few times silently begging him to stop. You were panting and barely holding yourself up. His wet hand slid around your leg and pulled it off his shoulder. Your eyes met and you were sure you looked like a flushed, sweaty mess but he just grinned at you and winked. Before you could do anything he wrapped his arms around your waist and then hauled you over his shoulder, groaning as he rose up from his knees and onto his feet.

“Ah cazzo, sono troppo vecchio per questo.” (Ah fuck, I’m too old for this) You squealed as he staggered a bit on his feet but he managed to steady himself and walk over to his bed and toss you onto it. You bounced towards the middle but he grasped your ankles and pulled you back towards him. His hands ran up your legs and he tugged them around his waist. Copia then reached up and unclasped your bra, not even letting you pull it off before he closed his mouth over one of your breasts.

As he sealed his lips over your nipple he reached up and started to massage your other breast. You crossed your legs behind his back and dug your heels into him. The action dragged his clothed cock against your cunt and you moaned at the feeling. He lifted his head up from your breast and watched your face as he ground his cock harder against you. You could feel the front of his pinstriped pants dampen as your wet cunt rubbed against him.

Copia took one last lick of your nipple and then pulled up, letting the leather of his gloves drag against your stomach and up your thighs to settle on your knees. You whimpered as he pulled your legs away from him but he immediately went to work pulling the uniform top out of his pants. When he moved to unbutton it you placed one of your feet on his chest to stop him. He met your gaze and raised one of his eyebrows at you in a silent question.

“Lascialo acceso, Papa.” (Leave it on, Papa) He smiled at you and nodded his head, grasping your foot on his chest and bringing it up to place a delicate kiss on the bottom before letting go. You spread your legs out and then bent them at the knee, placing your feet at the edge of the bed on either side of his hips. He unbuckled his belt and then pulled the zipper down, but he only tugged them down far enough to free his cock.

He watched as you licked your lips at the sight of it, bringing his hand down to pump it a few times. You hooked a leg around his waist again, impatiently encouraging him to move closer. He let you pull him against you, the tip of his cock brushing against your cunt. His hands moved to your knees and he pulled your other leg around his waist and then slid them down your thighs to rest at your hips.

Papa held you there, at the edge of the bed. His hips began to move in small circles, letting your wetness coat his cock. You moaned as it caught on your entrance a few times and you tried to get him to enter you but he seemed determined to tease you. Laughing as you grew more and more frustrated. When tears began to prick at your eyes you brought your hands up to cover your face, embarrassed at how desperate you were.

“Oh mio dolce, no no. Don’t cry. I will take care of you, si?” Copia leaned forward and grasped your hands, pulling them off your face. He smiled down at you and then pulled back to grip your hips again. His eyes roamed over you before coming back up and meeting your own. He flashed that brilliant smile of his again and you couldn’t help but smile back.

“Please Papa, please. I need you. I need you to fu-oh!” He didn’t let you finish, Copia had lined himself up and pushed into you with one solid thrust. Your walls stretched tightly around his cock and your mouth hung open at the full feeling. He brought one of his hands from your hip to settle over your belly and he seemed content to look at where his cock disappeared into you for a moment.

Thankfully you didn’t have to start begging him again, he slowly pulled out, letting his cock drag against your walls before stopping with just the tip in your entrance. He growled and thrust back inside, soon starting a steady rhythm in and out of you, grunting each time he entered you. He had you panting and clawing at the sheets as he roughly fucked you. When your body started to shudder he pushed down gently with the hand on your belly and kept you in place.

The other hand on your waist moved to settle above your cunt and he pressed his thumb against your clit. His thrusts became even harder when you began to moan loudly, digging your elbows down into the mattress and pulling up a bit so you could watch his cock move in and out of you.

“You like this dolce? Do you like watching me fuck you?” You bit your lip and nodded frantically, beyond words at this point. He suddenly took his hands and moved them back to your hips to pull you up a bit and change the angle of his cock entering you. It caused the tip to hit that spot inside of you each time it pushed in and your head fell back on the bed as you cried out.

Stars started to spark at the edge of your vision, you were getting so close. His movements were becoming erratic and you watched as he panted and grunted with each hard thrust. The slick sounds of his hips meeting yours got louder and you started to cry out each time he entered you.

“That’s it, that’s it mio dolce. Come for me, come right now.” You gasped at his words and then you were lost. Your insides contracted around his cock and he fell forward as your orgasm caused his own. He pressed his hips against yours as his cock kicked inside of you, filling your cunt with his cum.

You drifted a bit, trying to catch your breath and come back down from your orgasm. Copia was laying over you, his weight pressing you into the bed, still inside of you. You shifted your hips a bit and smiled when you heard him hiss. He pulled up and met your eyes, his paint was a mess and oh, his poor uniform. You would have to bribe the sisters that did his laundry to take extra care with it.

Copia leaned up on his elbow and trailed his hand over your stomach. Smiling softly at you as you brought a hand up to cup his cheek. He turned to press a kiss into your palm and then slowly straightened up, groaning a bit. His hands went back to their favored spot at your hips, you were sure there would be bruises there soon.

He opened his mouth to say something but stopped when the door to his quarters slammed open. You both jerked your heads toward his open bedroom doorway and froze when you heard Dewdrop’s voice call out.

“Hey Copia did that sister bring that stuff by Imperator was bitchi-oh for the love of fuck!” Dew froze just inside the bedroom and looked on in horror at the two of you. You moved your hands to cover your breasts and felt your skin flush in embarrassment. But Copia seemed unfazed and just glared at the fire ghoul.

“Dewdrop, how many times have I told you to knock?” Copia started to unbutton the uniform top, pulling it off and thankfully draping it over you. Your hands clutched the fabric and now that you were covered you had to bite your lip to stop from giggling.

“I did knock how many times have I told YOU to lock your damn door! At least close the fucking bedroom door, I can never unsee this!” Dew was gesticulating wildly as he spoke, his voice getting more and more shrill as he went on.

“Then stop fucking looking! Stai mettendo in imbarazzo la sorella! (You’re embarrassing the sister!)” You hissed when Copia finally slipped out of you as he turned to argue with Dewdrop.

“I’m embarrassing the sister? Are you serious? And you think prancing around in that stupid baseball costume isn’t doing the job?” Copia growled and stormed over to Dew, reaching out to grab him. Dewdrop shrieked and leapt out of the way. “Fucking hell put your dick away!”

You were curled up under the shirt trying to keep yourself covered but clutching your sides laughing. Copia had stopped to shove himself back into his pants and zip them up. Dewdrop meanwhile had begun to pick up the budget paperwork you had dropped everywhere.

“What are you doing, get the fuck out! Forget the paperwork!” Copia finally got a hold of Dew’s shoulders and started to push him forcefully towards the bedroom door. Dew yelped and stumbled under the force of his grip.

As Copia wrestled with him you couldn’t help but admire how good he looked. The black undershirt hugged his shoulders and those love handles that you had always wanted to grab a hold of. His belt was still hanging open, but his pants were snug against his ass and thighs. The black socks were still tugged up to just below his knees. You rubbed your thighs together, feeling your body react to the sight of him.

“Ok! Ok I’m going, you can stop pushing geez I don’t know where those gloves have been.” Copia stopped and let Dewdrop go and he straightened up and brushed his jacket off. Once he seemed satisfied he turned towards both of you and took a small bow. “Alright well, you kids have fun. Please lock the fucking door behind me. And…play ball!”

Copia growled and gave him one final shove, slamming the door shut behind him. You heard the click of the lock and sighed, stretching your limbs out from under the top. You watched as Copia turned and gazed at you, the frustration over Dewdrop’s interruption seemed to have already passed. You could feel yourself blush as his eyes traveled over where your legs were sticking out from under his shirt.

You smiled as he walked back towards you, stopping when he was back where he had been before. His hands gripped your ankles and pulled you back towards the edge, your legs hanging off at the knee. He reached over and gripped his shirt and slowly dragged it off you. You could hear him groan as you were fully exposed to him again.

“Dolce, I think we can have a little more fun, yes?” You nodded at him, breath catching when his eyes seemed to be locked between your legs. He licked his lips and settled his hands on your thighs, gripping them tightly as he lowered himself onto his knees between your legs once more.

He looked good down there.

His hands rubbed back and forth along the inside of your thighs, moving closer and closer to you cunt again. You heard him groan as he looked at the mess he had left and your breath caught in anticipation of his mouth on you again.

“Now what did our friend say as he was leaving?” Copia leaned his head against the inside of your thigh and looked up at you. You propped yourself up on your elbows to meet his gaze better and bit your lip trying to remember what Dew had said. Your thoughts were interrupted when Copia slid his tongue back into your cunt, slicking it around your entrance again. Lucifer, how were you supposed to think when he was doing that?

You yelped when you felt his teeth nip at the inside of your thigh and you frowned down at him. Oh now you remembered. You snorted and fell back against the bed, covering your face with your hands. Copia was such a dork, but oh you loved him so much. You collected yourself and leaned up on your elbows again, looking at him fondly. The smile he gave you was brilliant and beautiful so you could only smile back and give him the answer he was looking for.

“Play ball.”

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honey-tongued-devil · 7 months

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Sinners' tango

It wasn't just meant to be a small collection of Papa x Sister of Sin!Reader, but also to have a little interpretation key. So, as usual, I invite you to comment/like to show your support!

I really like the idea that the Ministry of Ghosts is a matriarchal pyramid, where even though Papa seems like the most important figure, Sister Imperator is the one who holds the reins of everything. Furthermore, I like that this isn't seen as a threat to anyone's masculinity within the clergy.

This series had a bit of this in mind. The woman isn't shown to allow more or less everyone to insert/identify themselves, yet her presence is so strong that even without ever seeing her face, you should be able to perceive her as the dominant figure in the composition. Sometimes she simply doesn't bother to look at those who are looking at the images, as if leaving the dirty work to someone else, other times she plays with her men, who allow themselves to be moved docilely.

There's also a certain sensuality, the idea of intimacy between the sister and the pope, and the various popes looking into the camera is like an awareness of their position. It's a submissive, almost devoted but still proud. Except for Copia, but not because he's not devoted to her, but because he, more than anyone, couldn't take his eyes off her.

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quaildoodle · 2 months

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Makes you wonder what’s Katyas kind is…

(1/8)

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ghulehunknown · 7 months

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DAY 1 of KINKTOBER! 🎃

Also available on AO3

*EXPLICIT - NSFW*

“Caught by Papa”

Summary: Papa of your choice catches you touching yourself in the pews of the Abbey…

Warnings/Tags: Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Vaginal Fingering, Public Masturbation

Mass went agonizingly slow. And Papa wasn’t helping by glancing at you every few moments. You wanted to touch yourself, thinking of those stolen kisses you two had in the hallways on Tuesday - but you couldn’t, not with the Clergy in the pews next to you.

Yet when it was over, you found yourself remaining where you sat, waiting until everyone left. Perhaps it was curiosity, perhaps it was stupidity - to not go back to your room to relieve those fiery thoughts going through your mind just moments ago.

You gazed up at the large Grucifix hanging over the altar. You closed your eyes and slipped your hand through the slit of your habit, touching yourself slowly at first, then quicker and quicker until -

“All by yourself, Sorella?” came a familiar voice.

Blood rushed to your cheeks, sudden shame washing over you. “Papa! Shit - I mean I, I didn’t see you there,” you exclaimed. You scrambled to pull down your skirt to make yourself decent, but an unexpected leather-gloved hand tucking your hair behind your ear stopped you in your tracks.

“Tsk tsk, Sorella,” he snarled, appearing in the pew behind you - one hand gripping your wrist so tightly it turned white, his other hand lifting your skirt back up. “The only sin you’ve committed is not letting me help you.”

Your breath hitched in your throat as his hand slipped easily into your core. His breath, hot and heavy, whispered devilish things into your ear in between the kisses he placed on your neck. You kicked up your combat boots on the back of the pew in front of you, feeling his fingers explore you deeper.

“Really, Papa? Right here, in the place where we worship the Olde One?” you teased through quiet moans as his fingers slid around your clit, back down and slipping two fingers inside you.

“Really, Sorella? Eye fucking me,” - he began to slide his fingers in and out of you as he said this - “and flashing me your upper thighs as I dutifully led our worship to the Olde One?”

Motherfucker. You had no quick retort when he was inside you. You had no mind, no resolve, no breath, no name - only his name at your lips. Merely a Nameless Sibling, melting at the slightest look he gave you. No voice but a whimper, a moan, echoing the pleasure he gave you within the Abbey halls.

His free hand clapped around your mouth to muffle your moans, as people crossed the hallway just outside the doors. “When we get back to my room I want to hear you screaming, but for now…shhh,” he said, thumbing your clit as he continued to thrust in and out of you. Your body tensed, your fists in balls as you tried as hard as you could not to scream into his hand as you came, shaking in his arms.

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bupia · 11 months

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Love letter: Chapter 1 - Cardinal Copia x Fem!Reader

Summary: Working as the Cardinal’s assistant, one day you find a letter inside of one of his filing cabinet. As you take it in your hands, you notice there’s no “from” or “to” written on it.

Words: 3.159

Warnings: Some Italian swearing. This chapter is pure romance, but there may be smut in the upcoming chapters.

It was pretty early in the morning and you were already making your bed while all the other siblings who shared the dormitory with you were still asleep. You were the Cardinal's assistant, although you weren't sure why he chose you. You hadn't been in the Ministry for very long compared to other few siblings who applied for the role. To be fair, you were not sure how many people applied to be Cardinal's assistant. He was not as popular in the ministry as Papa Emeritus III, Terzo. Many siblings in the ministry would do anything to be close to Papa, but it was well known that Terzo didn't care for any siblings in the ministry. There were rumors that his heart was already taken, some rumors suggested that he already had what people would call his “Prime Mover”, but you weren't sure about it as you didn't know much about him. Nevertheless, you decided to do the best job you could.

When you first started as his assistant, you thought the job would be boring. In the beginning, it felt a little dull, but as time passed, you and the Cardinal developed a good relationship. Working with him became your favorite thing to do at the ministry, especially when he would call you by Italian nicknames.

You had been working together for 7 months now, and although waking up early wasn't your favorite thing, being near the Cardinal was pleasant. Cardinal Copia was a nice old man - gentle, clumsy, silly, focused, and respectful. He also had a habit that you found amusing. Sometimes, he would mumble words in Italian. You weren't able to understand all of it, but you were already used to some words like "cazzo" and "merda."

With all the time you spent together, you started to see the Cardinal in a different way. He was not just your clumsy boss anymore; you started to feel something else. Hearing him call you by your name, was the highlight of your day. You loved how your name sounded on his voice with his accent. But you needed to keep it extremely professional, not showing any emotions, controlling yourself to not blush or talk to him in a shaky voice whenever he was too close to you.

Looking at the clock on your bedside table, you realize that you are already a few minutes late. You rush to the door, opening it quickly, causing Sister Emily to almost drop the laundry basket she was carrying.

"Is everything okay, Si-sister?" She asked, her voice shaky from being startled by you.

"Yes, I'm sorry Sister Emily, I didn't mean to scare you." You apologized before leaving your dormitory in a hurry.

You run down the stairs and head straight to Cardinal's office. Luckily, it's still early and there aren't many people in the corridors. You reach his office door, grab the keys, and unlock it. You breathe a sigh of relief when you hear the click of the door unlocking, indicating that Cardinal hasn't arrived yet.

Once inside, you open the curtains to let in some light and notice that his desk is a bit messy. "He must have stayed here late last night after I left." You think as you start organizing the pens on his desk before getting on your knees to organize the files in the filing cabinet of his desk.

As you're organizing the files in the filing cabinet, you come across an envelope that doesn't belong there. There's no "From" or "To" written on it, just a blank envelope with a paper inside. You consider putting it back in the folder, but your curiosity gets the best of you and you decide to open it, but before you can read the contents of the letter, you hear a click at the door. You quickly stand up, close the cabinet door, and shove the letter into your pocket fixing your habit.

"Buongiorno, sorella!" Cardinal greets you as he enters the room, looking at you suspiciously. "Is everything okay?" he asks while he takes some steps ahead getting close to his desk.

"Yes, Cardinal. I was just organizing some papers you left on your desk." You explained.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I completely forgot to organize them yesterday." He apologized.

"No problem, Cardinal. I'm here to help you with whatever you need." You assure him with a smile.

He smiled back at you, pulling his chair to sit on. "I honestly don't know what I would do without you, sorella. You're one of the best things that has happened to me recently. I really made a very good choice, sì?" He giggled.

In an impulsive act, you got up quickly from your chair, putting your hands on the table and taking a deep breath.

"What's the problem, sorella?" He looked at you, sitting in his chair.

"I just noticed I forgot your coffee, Cardinal." You said, turning your back to him and walking to the door before he could say something.

Feeling your heart jumping from your chest, you closed the door behind you. Those words messed with you, you know you had an impulsive reaction but you didn't know what to do when you heard him calling you as "one of the best things that has happened to me recently." You were pretty aware of how you felt about Cardinal Copia and you didn't want to let it show.

Walking to the kitchen, you could smell the coffee. The scent of the coffee was filling the corridors already. You could also smell bread being baked.

"I came to get Cardinal's coffee!" You said as you entered the kitchen.

"Sister! We thought you wouldn't come!" One of the siblings said, getting the tray with Copia's breakfast and lending it to you.

"Oh! I didn't forget at all, I was just busy with some duties." With the tray on your hands you left the kitchen and headed to his office again.

Stopping by the door, you opened it slowly, keeping the tray straight with one hand. When you stepped inside the office, you saw Cardinal Copia in front of the window behind his desk with his gloved hands behind his back. You stayed in silence for a while, just staring at him. Today, he was wearing your favorite cassock, the black one. Not that you didn't like the other ones, but there was something about the black that would make you look at him more than usual.

Using one of your feet, you closed the door behind you. As the door clicked shut, Copia turned his head to look at you over his shoulder. As you took steps to get closer to his desk, Copia turned his body in your direction and gave you a gentle smile.

"Oh, sorella. You're too good for this old man. What would I do without you, sì?" Giggling, you placed the tray on his desk in front of his chair.

"Well, Cardinal, I'm just doing my work." You smiled at him as he sat in his chair. "And also, if I didn't get it for you, you would totally forget to eat because we both know you get too focused on your work and forget to eat!"

"Sì, sì, you're right, sorella, but you are not 'just doing your work.' You do a lot more for me." He reached for your hand and held it. You froze at the touch of his hand reaching for the one that was still holding the tray handle. Turning your eyes from your hand to his face, you saw that he was staring into your eyes.

What only took a few seconds felt like hours due to the silence that filled the room after his touch. Giving him a shy smile, you could swear you saw him blush. As he let go of your hand, you walk back to your desk trying not to loose your composure.

For the rest of the day, you and Copia stayed in silence while doing your jobs. It was not common to work with him in complete silence. He would call your name to ask for something or just to point out some information. Sometimes, he would also engage in casual conversation. However, at times, you could swear you felt him looking at you.

Lunchtime came after a long morning of silence. It almost felt like time had stopped. Looking at the clock on the wall, you see that it is almost time to get Cardinal's lunch.

“Co-, Cardinal Copia” You took a deep breath before keep talking. “I’m gonna get your lunch at the kitchen with the other siblings.” You got up from your chair and walked to his desk to pick up the tray that was on the right side of his desk.

“Oh! Sorella, don’t need to worry about it. Go have your lunch with the other siblings and I will ask for someone to clean it and bring the lunch.” You stopped walking to his direction and nod with your head.

Turning your back to him, you left his office and went straight to the cafeteria. It was the first time that Copia hadn't asked you to do something for him or allowed you to do it. Today was definitely not a normal day, but at least it was Friday, which meant that whatever was happening between you and the Cardinal, the weekend would probably fix it.

Returning to the office after eating with the other siblings, you hear Cardinal's voice screaming in a not-too-unfamiliar language and loud noises coming from inside the office. You hurried your steps and opened the door, finding his office in a big mess. Cardinal Copia was throwing papers in the air, and some were already on the ground. The shelves were disorganized, all the drawers from his desk were fully open, and only your desk remained untouched. You stepped inside the office, closing the door behind you looking around all the mess having no idea what was happening.

"Cazzo! Merda! Dov'è?" Cardinal was now on his knees on the floor, taking out papers from the filing cabinet.

"Cardinal, is everything okay?" You asked, approaching him getting on your knees in front of him.

"Sorella! Great! I'm glad you're here!" He grabbed your hand, looking at you. "Sorella, per favore, essere onesta con me, did you see an envelope today when you arrived at the office early this morning?"

You knew exactly what he was talking about. "I'm sorry, Cardinal. I don't know what you're talking about. I haven't seen it." You lied. You wanted to tell him that yes, you saw it and yes, it was in your pocket, but you were too afraid to admit it. What would he think of you? There was no plausible excuse for having it in your habit's pocket.

"I may have taken it with me somewhere else. Are you sure you didn't see anything, cara?" Cardinal sighed.

You nod your head. "I'm sorry, Cardinal. I'm sure we'll find it somewhere, right?" You give him a smile.

"Sì, cara, you're right."

"Should I help you clean up this mess?" You put your other hand on top of his.

"Ah... sì..." You felt his grip on your hand getting tighter, and you let go of his hand. Cardinal get up giving you his hand for you to hold helping you to get up after him. You smile at him grabbing his hand, holding your habit, you get up.

As you and Cardinal starts to organize the room, you couldn't stop thinking that the envelope was still in your pocket. Not only that, but you had also lied to him about not knowing what he was talking about. If it wasn’t bad enough that you had taken it from his filing cabinet, imagine how much worse it was now that you had lied about it.

While you were organizing his documents in the filing cabinet, you thought you could just put it there without him noticing it. But that would be strange, if you just looked at him saying: "Look, Cardinal, it was here the whole time!"

So you had to think in a better plan. Maybe when it was time for you to leave his office, you could tell him that you would stay just a little bit longer, so you could hide the envelope somewhere and tell him how you found it on Monday.

As the last hours of the workday approached, Cardinal Copia got up from his chair. He walked towards your desk and stopped in front of it. "Sorella, I suppose we're finished for today, sì?"

"Oh! Cardinal, I haven't finished these papers yet. Is it okay if I stay for just one more hour?" Your face was glued to the papers in front of you just to avoid his gaze.

"Are you sure, sorella? Do you want some company?" He asked, not moving from in front of your desk.

"Yes, Cardinal. I'm sure. I'll finish these papers in an hour or less, and you can go rest now. Don't worry, I'll lock the door when I leave.” You replied, still focused on the papers.

He grumbled some words to himself.

"Hm?" You lift your head in his direction. "What did you say, Cardinal?"

"Nothing, sorella. Just thinking out loud, sì?" He took a step back from your table and walked to the door. "Buona notte, cara. Don't forget to lock the door when you leave." You smiled nodding at him as he left and closed the door behind him.

After he left, you returned to focusing on the papers in front of you. They weren't a big deal; you just needed to review some official documents from the Clergy to make sure everything was in order.

By the time you finish with the papers, you get up from your chair, stretch your back, and start to clean up your desk right away. You organize the files in the shelf and check if Copia's desk needs attention. With everything in order, you leave the office and lock the door. The corridors are already quiet, and you can only hear the sound of crickets outside the Ministry.

As you approached your dormitory, you retrieved your keys from your pocket. Suddenly, an envelope fell out. You realized with dismay that it was the letter you had forgotten to replace. You couldn't believe you had forgotten it.

Picking up the letter envelope from the floor, you weren't sure what to do next. Should you return it to his office, dispose of it, or keep it with you until Monday?

With so many options and thoughts running through your mind, you decided to head back to your dormitory. At this point, you regretted taking the letter from Cardinal's filing cabinet. However, it was too late, and you already had it in your possession, even worse, in your room.

Realizing it was a lost cause, you placed the envelope under your pillow and took a quick, relaxing shower. Upon returning, you checked under your pillow to ensure the envelope was still there. Unfortunately, it was.

Lying down, you couldn't stop thinking about what you had done. You had lied and hid it from Cardinal Copia, and if you told him what you had done, he would probably be disappointed and remove you from your position. You were supposed to return it after he left, but you got so distracted with the papers that you forgot.

But there was something else on your mind: why did Cardinal look so worried about this envelope? What was in the letter? If he was hiding it, it was probably something important. Your curiosity started to hammer in your head with questions that could only be answered if you read the letter, but should you? Invading Cardinal's privacy like this would probably put you on a tightrope. In fact, you had already invaded his privacy when you took it from the filing cabinet and shoved it into your pocket. And yes, you had the intention to give it a look before, but now, after seeing Cardinal on his knees throwing the papers all around, you weren't sure if you really should read it.

Yet, curiosity wasn't leaving you alone. You swiped your hand under your pillow and grabbed the envelope, bringing it close to your chest and taking a deep breath. You look around to make sure all the siblings were asleep and with a trembling hand, you open the envelope and take out the letter from inside. You still hold it close to your chest, gathering the courage you need.

Unfolding the letter, you realize that it bears the handwriting of the Cardinal. As you begin to read, you do not see any name mentioned in the first few lines but the next few lines made your eyes widen.

“If you are reading this, it's probably because I have finally mustered the courage to deliver this letter. I know that a man of my age and position in the Ministry shouldn't be feeling what I feel for you, but it's inevitable to do not feel the way I feel when you are one of the few people who truly show compassion for me here. You've turned my world upside down in these last few months. Through small acts of affection and words, I try to show what I feel for you, but being close to you is like losing my breath, and whenever you look at me, I feel my body freeze and I have no reaction, that’s because I see gentleness in your eyes whenever you look at me, and it's almost impossible for me to maintain my composure. Your smile brightens up the room and your voice calling me as “Cardinal” is like music to my ears, although, I really wish you’d call me as Copia. Sometimes, I'm afraid of speaking too much and letting my feelings escape from within me. I can't say if this is love, passion, attraction, or something beyond that, but I know that I want to be the one holding your hand, Finally, I would like to say that even if my feelings for you are not reciprocated, I hope you can still understand that...”

"What?!" you exclaimed in your head. You turned the paper over to see if there was anything on the other side, but the letter ended there. It was inconclusive. "How can someone leave a love letter inconclusive?" you ask to yourself. Oh- wait. You sit up fast on your bed, noticing you've just read a love letter from the Cardinal, and you have no idea who he wrote it for. You've just read that Cardinal Copia is in love with someone from the Ministry, and you start to wonder who it is. But, do you really want to know? You feel a tightness in your chest. It was going to be a long weekend until Monday, but not forgetting about the Sunday mass. You’d see Cardinal Copia earlier than you thought.

Chapter 2

Grammar

⸻

Cazzo - fuck Merda - shit Sorella - sister Buongiorno - good morning Cara - dear Dov’è? - where is it? Essere onesta con me - be honest with me Sì - yes/right Buona notte - good night

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she-lovesmovies · 11 months

Text

Copia x sister of sin reader

(She/her reader)

Words count: 1,5k

Summary: Since Copia had become papa, he seemed to forget you more and more. Making you aware of your insecurities.

Warnings: A bit of angst. Emotional hurt/comfort. My bad English writing.

Notes: sorry English is not my first language so it’s not really well written and may contain mistakes. Attempt to write Italian (it fails). Also this is an old draft I posted on my other acc so some people may have already read it.

(Pic from Pinterest)

You didn’t know what to do anymore.

Copia had always been sweet and kind to you. Yes he was someone else on stage but you loved him that way.

You had shared your best moments in the clergy with him. After one of the ghoul (Aether) had find you waiting outside of the clergy’s church, desperate. You had entered the ministry in hope to find something better.

And you had fall in love.

Everything was perfect.

Until Copia had started ignoring you.

Well he wasn’t really ignoring you.

It was more about forsake.

These days he always had something better to do than spending time with you.

Of course he did, he was papa after all. You knew it, and understood that his place was difficult.

But after multiple excuses, you started to take it personally. You knew Terzo and the other papas had time to take care of their beloved or at least had time to do what they wanted.

All of Copia’s weird act had started after he became papa, so you really thought it was because of his work, but then, you realize how now that he had that place, a lot of the sisters started flirting with him, and even though at first he was declining all the confessions, you had seen that those last few weeks, he didn’t turn them down, he was more tactile with the sisters. And most of all, he had time to be with the sisters but not to just lay down in the garden with you.

And the worst of it all was that you didn’t even blame him for it. You were just you. There were tons of prettier sister than you, even though you knew he didn’t care about looks, he still deserved someone more pretty, someone more funny, who was as confident as him on stage.

And all those thoughts got worst.

Everyday, every-nights. It had been going on for 3days since that very moment you realize that he just didn’t loved you anymore and that he was just trying to replace you without hurting you directly.

You hadn’t got out of your bedroom, and the fact that he didn’t even come once to see if you were okay was hurting you even deeper.

It felt like you were loosing all of the things that mattered in your life: Copia, and now you were probably going to be thrown out of the clergy for not doing anything for days.

Everything was too much.

But today, you wanted to got out.

You didn’t knew why.

You just wanted.

So, still wearing your white night dress, you got up from tout bed and made your way out of your bedroom.

You knew you probably looked like a ghost right now, wandering in the hallway.

“Oh my- look at her!”

“She looks horrible.”

“What’s with her face ?”

“Poor Copia he has to deal with someone like that.”

And the last one of the sisters’ muttering got the better of you.

You ran through the corridor. Wanting nothing more than to get out of this place.

But to make everything worse, Life obviously wanted you to cross path with Copia.

And even with your jerky breathing, he didn’t notice you. You tried to hide yourself and contain yourself as you saw he was talking to a sister.

She was so pretty.

Really pretty.

Even Satan would have melt in front of her.

And Copia looked at her.

He looked at her in the eyes.

Like he hadn’t looked at you for weeks.

And it hurt.

“Papa your concert was amazing. You were really brilliant and… handsome.”

Copia chuckled. And you realize that everything he was doing was hurting you a little more.

“Papa, would you like for us to meet later at the library ?”

Ok that was enough.

You turned around and started running away from them. Of course, both of them heard you. But you were already gone when Copia called your name.

You finally found a way to get out and end up in the garden. You walked for a few meters more and fell to your knees, before laying down on your stomach, your cheek touching the grass.

The sun was gently keeping you warm as you let more tears stream down your face.

You heard the door when it opened.

And you had hope it was Copia.

“What are you doing here ? You okay ?”

It was not Copia.

You hold back a whimper and more tears.

“Yeah Rain, I’m good. Don’t worry you can go back.”

He didn’t argue.

Because you didn’t really knew each other.

And because he thought you needed time.

So here you were again.

Just listening to the sound of nature.

Everything was so calm that for a moment, you felt like your mind could be at peace.

“Cara Mia ?”

Oh Satan fuck me.

Could Life be fair with you just once ?

“Don’t come closer.”

He didn’t listen.

So you got up as quick as you could and took several steps back from him.

“I said don’t come closer.”

He now, could clearly see how red your eyes were, with the deepest bag he had ever seen under them.

“Princess-“

“Don’t. Listen if you’re gonna do it now. Let’s do it somewhere else. Everyone already thinks I’m pathetic so if we could just go somewhere else where not everyone can watch us.”

He didn’t say a word, just followed you into his bedroom.

So if you wanted to run you could. Because in your room it would have been more complicated to escape .

“Cara Mia what is going on ?”

You laughed. A cruel laugh.

And it seemed to torment him.

“You would have known if you had fucking asked. Or even talked to me for the past weeks.”

Fuck you were being so agressive.

And you were the one. You were the girlfriend who wasn’t good enough for him.

“‘M sorry.” You muttered.

“It’s okay. I know I haven’t been there for you. I abandoned you.”

“Listen Copia. I’d rather prefer you just broke up with me than come with excuses. Honestly I get it. Sister Claude, or most of the sisters are way better than me, so I understand.”

His brows furrowed as your hands clenched on you night dress.

“What are you saying ?”

“I’m saying if you don’t love me anymore just say it. It would hurt less.”

“What is this nonsense ? Sweetheart have you been eating well ? Are you hurt ? Did something happened to you ?”

“Stop making me sound like I’m mad! When you literally didn’t talk to me, or kiss me, hold me or even touch me for weeks. As if you hadn’t flirt with all the sisters since you became papa.”

He stayed silent.

While you, were just staring at the ground, tears falling on the carpet (again).

“You think I don’t love you anymore ?”

What did he wanted you to reply ?

He was asking that as if he hadn’t showed you he didn’t want you anymore.

“Oh hell what have I done. Y/n it’s not like that…”

He tried to take your hand but you stepped back before he could.

His arms falls back along his body.

He took a deep breath before talking.

“We were trying to set up a party for our two years together… I wanted it to be a surprise. And I knew I couldn’t lie to you. So I started avoiding you. And, me talking to sister Claude was because she is suppose to help me to pick a gift. But I messed up. I’m sorry. I love you so much Mia Cara.”

Fuck.

You fucking idiot.

You were a fucking brainless dumb cunt.

“I’m stupid.” You murmured as you cried even harder.

“What ?”

“I’m so sorry Copia. I’m a fucking idiot. I cry all the time for nothing and I fucking thought you didn’t love me anymore. I’m so dumb. You deserve so much better.” Your head in your hands, you were debating running away from embarrassment.

Copia took a step ahead, carefully, and picked your hands, kissing the palms of it gently.

“My sweet demonic angel. My dying daisy. I’m the one who wronged. I’m deeply sorry that I have caused you this much pain. You deserved to be treated with all the care in the world and I failed you. I only love you please, forgive me.”

You cried even harder (if it was even possible) as he took you into his arms.

His lips kissed your neck and face, from your cheeks to nose to forehead to lips.

“I’m sorry for ruining the surprised… Shall we take a nap in the garden my sweet ?”

You nodded timidly and took his hand in yours.

This warm feeling that you thought your body could never feel again rushed through you as a small smile made its way on your face.

#ghost band #copia x reader #shitghosting #be gay do drugs hail satan #cardinal copia x reader #papa emeritus fanfiction #papa emeritus iv x reader #sister of sin #ghost fanfiction #ghost band fanfic

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tvvzro · 1 year

Text

SOBBINGG

#papa primo #primo x reader #primo ghost #the band ghost #papa copia #papa emeritus iv #papa iv #papa emeritus lll #papa emeritus secondo #popia #secondo emeritus #copia x reader #secundo #papa emeritus ii #sister of sin

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molly-ghuleh · 8 months

Text

Camellia: Copia x f!reader - Chapter 2

Camellia: n. - A flower which symbolizes a deep desire or longing.

Summary: You start work on Elizabeth's diary, and finally get a good look at Papa.

Word count: 5.5k

A/N: Hey hello, I hope you enjoy this chapter! It's a bit of a monster, but worth it, I promise!

Warnings: Mentions of reader having religious trauma

AO3 Link / Chapter 1

~~~

You’ve been hunched over this damned diary all day.

Sister Imperator was right. None of the Abbey’s translators or archivists would have been able to read Elizabeth’s writing because she had written in a cipher. With no spaces between words and with no obvious keyword to decipher her entries, the first page of her diary looks like nonsense. Just absolute gibberish.

But to you, it isn’t.

With each passing hour you spend at a small table in the restricted room, you admire Elizabeth more and more. She was smart as a whip and even more clever. You figure that, if she wanted her diary to be kept secret, she could have simply destroyed it. Burnt it, ripped it, buried it, dipped the whole thing in black ink—anything surely would have been easier than creating a cipher which has no discernable pattern.

She didn’t destroy it, though. She wrote on each page, front and back until the entire book was filled, and then she hid it. If something is truly never meant to be found, it won’t be. Which leads you to believe Elizabeth’s diary isn’t a diary at all. It’s a record.

A record of what, you have yet to be sure. It is secret enough for Elizabeth to want it to be discovered someday, but only after she is long gone. That intrigues you enough to sit hour after hour over this book, trying every word you can think of that might be the key to the cipher. So far you have crossed off ‘Satan’, ‘Lucifer’, ‘Beelzebub’, and other aliases of the Dark One. You hadn’t expected those to work, because Elizabeth seems smarter than that, but you had to try just to rule them out. You also tried words like ‘chapel’, ‘altar’, and other imagery of the Satanic Ministry, with no luck. You thought perhaps the first five letters of the entry were the key to the second five, or vice versa. You tried again with the first six letters, the first two, three, four. Nothing.

The only words you have been able to read are the dates of each entry, the month and the day, which she wrote in the top-left corner in plain English. Those were not much of an accomplishment to decipher.

You sigh and sit up straight for a moment. Your back is sore after hours of slouching and writing. The once-crisp notebook under your pen is nearly half full of incorrect keywords and mistranslations. The small window on the far wall of the restricted room has grown dark and no sounds echo to you from the hollow of the atrium.

You’d gotten up to find something to eat (and to uncross your eyes) during the dinner hour. Tonight you opted for a hot meal but decided not to stay in the refectory. You don’t know if food is even allowed in the library but all the Siblings who work there were at dinner, so you snuck it in anyways. You aren’t careless, though, so you ate your dinner at a different table, far away from the one where Elizabeth’s diary and your notebook sit open. That had been a few hours ago.

As far as you can tell from the small window in the door, the lights in the library have been dimmed for the night. No one came and fetched you to tell you that it was closing, so you assume it stays open at all hours. Your own desk lamp is the only source of light in the restricted room.

You rise from your workstation and move towards the closed door. Such an enclosed room tends to get stuffy and humid, and it’s still too chilly outside to open a window. You gently prop open the door to let in the relatively fresh air of the library. No one said you couldn’t keep the door open when you’re inside the room, only that the door must be locked when you aren’t.

Returning to your desk, you can already feel the cooler air drifting through the bookshelves. You’re content to work for a few more hours like this. It feels wrong to give up for the night when you have nothing to show yet. It feels wrong to stop working when you have something to prove, and somewhere to return.

The night here is eerily silent. At home in Marseille, if you open your dormitory window and sit on the end of your bed to look out over the water, you can hear the soft lapping of water against the marina docks. If the wind carries just right, you can also hear the creaking of masts and cables as the sailboats list back and forth in the water. Sometimes the gulls stay out at night during the summer months, calling for one another from their perches on a bow pulpit. The breeze carries the saltiness of the water and the sweetness of the hillside wildflowers into your dormitory, illuminated only by a small desk lamp and the moon—

A sound from outside the room breaks you from your reverie. Your consciousness whips back to the present, to the Abbey. The ghostly scent of salt and flowers fades, replaced by old leather and dust and ink from your pen.

You raise your eyes to look through the open door when you hear another sound. There’s no one visible to you—whoever they are must be between shelves, looking for a late-night romance novel to put them to sleep.

You haven’t figured out why the romance section is so tucked away yet. Though, perhaps if erotica is shelved nearby, the librarians would want any wandering hands to stay hidden. Not that lust is shameful here—it’s the Satanic Ministry, it’s actually encouraged—but the library is not the place to get hot and heavy.

Knowing that someone is nearby distracts you terribly, and you decide to stop for the night. The little analog clock hanging next to the door reads past midnight. At this hour, you likely won’t get much done anyway. You need sleep and a proper breakfast to let your mind work.

You take the time to gently wrap Elizabeth’s diary in the white linen and return it to its lockbox. The rest of your things don’t take long to gather, having only brought the one notebook and a few pens, plus your empty dinner box. You close the door behind you as you exit, fishing through your habit pocket to find the key. It and the key to your dormitory are affixed to a single keyring which jingles as you fumble with it one-handed, but you lock the door successfully and turn to make your way to the staircase.

Rather, you try to make your way.

As soon as you turn around, a figure emerges from the bookshelves. You promptly run into him, which sends your materials to the floor and your mind reeling with apologies. “Oh, je suis vraiment désolé—Er, I’m so sorry!” you bluster, holding your now-empty hands out to plead for forgiveness. You kneel to gather your things into a messy pile, then stand and finally meet the eyes of the poor soul you’d accosted with your body. “I should have been more careful, but it’s late so I thought…”

They’re the same eyes you’d met yesterday, in the refectory. Still striking, still surrounded by black, but up-close and more relaxed. And no white paint. Just the black upper lip and the black eyes of Papa Emeritus the Fourth.

“It’s, eh, it’s quite alright, Sister,” Papa says with an awkward little laugh. You notice he’s not wearing his robes or his mitre. In fact he’s not wearing anything that might remotely indicate that he’s the Antipope. He wears a simple black t-shirt and red sweatpants, and gray fuzzy slippers that have the eyes and whiskers and pink nose of a rat which you thought looked cute when you’d knelt down.

But he’s still Papa, and you still barreled into him like a brute.

You try to smile but it feels more like a grimace. “Still, I shouldn’t have just…” you gesture with your free arm. “I’m sorry. Are you alright?”

Papa pats his chest like he’s searching for injuries. You hit him hard, but not that hard, and it makes you laugh softly. “I’m fine. Quite good. Still in one piece,” he says. “Are you? And why are you here so late?”

You blush. “Oh, does the library close at night? I’m sorry, no one came and told me, I just assumed…”

“No, no,” Papa reassures you, waving a hand in front of himself. “No, it doesn’t close. But it’s usually empty at this time of night, you see.”

You nod in understanding. “It is pretty late.”

“It is,” Papa echoes. “So… pardon my asking, Sorella, but why are you still awake?”

“I was, um,” you try to explain, looking down at the messy pile of translation work cradled in the crook of your elbow. “I was working on Elizabeth’s diary, but it may take longer than I expected.”

Papa’s face seems to light up at your mention of your work. “Oh! Forgive me, yes, I should have known,” he rushes out. “You are the, eh, visitor? From Marseille?”

You nod and give him your name. He repeats it softly to himself, as if to remember it. You doubt he will, but you won’t hold it against him—there are many, many Siblings at the Abbey and many names to remember. So if he manages to distinguish you from the rest of the crowd, you will be pleasantly surprised. Not to say you don’t have faith that he could, but… well. You’re running yourself in circles.

He narrows his eyes slightly, but pauses for a moment. “I saw you yesterday, at dinner,” he tells you.

So much for not remembering a face in the crowd. You mentally kick yourself.

“Ah, yes,” you chuckle nervously. “I’m not the biggest crowd person.” Papa chuckles. “Yes, I noticed. To be honest, neither am I.”

That’s hard to believe, coming from him. To be Papa is to be a figurehead, a symbol of unwavering faith and devotion to the Olde One which the entire Satanic Ministry worships. One must be a bit of a crowd pleaser in order to be successful in his position. “It doesn’t seem that way, Papa,” you tell him. “You command a room very well, from what I’ve heard.”

A smug little grin grows on Papa’s lips, and it suits him. Smiling suits him. “So word of my immense charisma has traveled all the way to Marseille, yes?” he asks, mostly teasing. But a small lilt in his voice betrays that he really does wonder. What does this foreign Sister think of him based on word of mouth alone? And does his person size up to his reputation?

You laugh. “It has,” you say. “Forgive me if I have a hard time believing you are uncomfortable in a crowd.”

Papa tuts his tongue, his grin growing into a fond smile. “You should have seen my brother.” There’s a small sparkle of reminiscence in his eye as he says this, and you wonder which of the three other Papas he speaks of. You’ve heard different stories about all of them.

His eyes drop to the papers and notebook in your arm, then back up to your face. “But, eh, you are settling in well, Sorella?” he asks.

You can tell he wants to change the subject, so you let him. “Yes, Papa, thank you,” you smile.

“That’s not very convincing.”

You release an airy laugh and drop your head. He can see right through you. “It’s very different here,” you say. “Marseille is… small. Cozy. Secluded. Not to say that I don’t like it here, because it really is very nice—”

“It’s crowded,” Papa cuts you off. It’s soft, and not intended to be rude, but to agree with you. “And big. I understand.”

Your shoulders drop, but you hadn’t realized they were raised in the first place. “It’s not home,” you find yourself admitting.

He nods. “And so you work late into the night because you do not want to sleep in an unfamiliar bed.”

You stare at him for another beat. He seems to know what you’re feeling even before you do, because yes, your bed here isn’t the same as the one back home, and suddenly you’re very close to crying. Don’t cry, don't cry, don't cry…

“May I tell you something, in confidence?” Papa asks. His voice is low and gentle. It soothes you. His eyes search your own, flicking back and forth between them, and you begin to understand how this slightly awkward man in rat slippers is able to enrapture an entire chapel of people.

You nod.

“I miss being a Cardinal,” he tells you. “Truly, I do. Becoming Papa has been the only goal I can ever remember having, ever since I was old enough to care. But as soon as I ascended I…” He pauses. His mouth opens and closes, like he’s trying to decide whether or not he should finish his thought.

He sighs. “What I mean to say is, There is no shame in missing where you used to be.”

You hold his gaze for another long moment, wondering what it is he was going to say. His words linger in the silence between you and you let them. As soon as he became Papa he… what?

“Thank you, Papa,” you say quietly. The moment feels almost intimate, like he’d confided his biggest secret to you. But for all you know, he tells every Sibling he comes across the same thing. It’s his duty to counsel everyone under his roof, visitors included.

No, you chastise yourself. Papa doesn’t seem like the kind of man to have practiced lines for serendipitous meetings… but you are still learning not to assume the worst of people. You had been far too young when you learned not to trust anyone, even those deserving of it. But Papa… he seems genuine, and it’s all you can do (for yourself and for him) to believe that he is.

You realize that this is the natural end of your conversation. That now is when you should say goodnight, nice to meet you, see you around, but you don’t want to. You can’t tell if it’s because you’ve been on your own all day, or because it’s late and you’re tired, or because the air around him seems to grow warmer and more… comfortable. Papa radiates an aura of peace that you haven’t felt since you received Sister Imperator’s letter nearly a week ago.

“If I may ask, Papa,” you start, just as the silence begins to grow awkward, “what are you doing awake at this hour?”

Papa’s eyes turn down, and a small smile graces his lips. “Ah, I was just looking for something to read,” he says, and you nearly laugh at yourself for asking such an obvious question. Of course he’s looking for something to read. The two of you are standing deep in the bowels of the library.

Oh, who are you kidding? Papa likely came here to find a book in peace, not speak to some foreign Sister. Who are you to keep his attention?

“I see,” you say, in your practiced voice. “Well. Good luck, and I hope you find something, Papa.”

Before you can blurt out any more feelings to him, you turn and walk briskly towards the winding staircase that leads you to the first floor.

~~~

Copia watches you retreat, slightly confused and halfway ready to call your name to make you stay. Something had changed in your demeanor just before you left, and he wants to ask if you’re alright, or if he said something wrong and caused you to close yourself off like that. Was it his little comment about missing the past? No, no, it couldn’t be—your eyes had been wide and searching, but you weren’t offended. Your brow had furrowed but not out of disgust.

He’s not as clueless as most people think he is. Just because he has a hard time finding the right words to say what he’s thinking doesn’t mean he’s stupid. In fact, Copia prides himself on his ability to read people. His ability to speak as eloquently as he does in his head… that’s another story.

When he’d first seen you in the refectory yesterday, you had already been looking right at him. He was curious about the straggler who’d wandered in so timidly. Your face isn’t one he’d seen around the Abbey. If he had, he would’ve remembered you because frankly, you’re striking.

Copia doesn’t know why he hadn’t connected the dots sooner. It seems obvious that a brand new Sister should appear only weeks after Sister Imperator mentions bringing someone in to translate the document that had been found. Your presence had been a single talking point during some meeting or another, and if he’s perfectly honest, most Clergy meetings seem to blend together into nonsensical mush when he thinks back on them. Your mention of Elizabeth’s diary had reminded him of a few vague details. But the rest of that discussion, unsurprisingly, slips his mind.

He finds himself feeling guilty. He’d been at that meeting, he knows for certain. The paperwork to confirm your temporary transfer had landed on his desk and he’d signed it. He must have. Your file must have been sent over from Marseille ahead of your arrival, why hadn’t he seen it?

Copia runs his fingers through his hair and sighs. He should have welcomed you to the Abbey himself. He should have sought you out and personally offered his hospitality, because he knows what it’s like to be across the world from home. He knows how lost and alone you feel. He’d felt it himself, after he transferred to the Abbey as a newly-appointed Cardinal.

I miss being a Cardinal, he’d told you. And it’s true, he does, but he misses being an Archbishop more. He held less sway within the Satanic Ministry as an Archbishop, but he was allowed to stay in Italy. His home.

As soon as he’d ascended to the rank of Cardinal, Sister Imperator had called him to the Abbey as a permanent transfer. Sure, his brothers had all been transferred from Italy one by one as they were called up to the Papacy, so he had family at the Abbey. But they had all been busy, constantly, and so had he.

You’d told him you miss home, and a very strange, very tender part of him wants to comfort you.

~~~

You replay your conversation with Papa all the way back to your dormitory. Stupide, stupide, stupide…

He told you that he’s not much of a crowd person, and then you go and tell him that his Abbey doesn’t feel cozy enough for you? And you nearly knocked him over in your haste to return to a bed that you told him isn’t as good as the one in Marseille. What a way to thank him for opening his home to you! Thanks, Papa, but here are all the reasons why your Abbey sucks.

“Fille stupide,” you mutter to yourself. The sound echoes off the walls of the dark, empty corridor. The wall sconces are dark for the night, so the only illumination comes in the form of pale blue stripes of moonlight along the tiled floor.

When you finally reach your dormitory and softly shut the door behind you, you take a moment to breathe. You’d been walking rather briskly in order to get back. Your fingers clench so tightly on the edge of your notebook that your fingernails are white, and your joints creak as you release your hold. The slap of the spiral-bound book seems loud when you drop it onto the small desk below the window, reverberating around the room. There are no posters, no tapestries, no curtains to absorb the sound like there are at home.

You loathe the sound. You loathe the echoes. You loathe the tip-tapping of heels on the pristine floors of the Abbey. You loathe the muffled sounds of laughter coming from a dormitory a few doors down. You loathe how desperately you want to find something to hold onto here, something that feels personal. And you loathe how you crave familiarity despite the fact that you’ll return to Marseille as soon as that little book is translated.

You practically rip your habit off—a habit that is uniform in France, but sets you apart here—in favor of your sleep clothes. Climbing into the small bed, you begin to recite your prayer in every language you know. It’s a habit you’d developed as soon as you began learning a second language at the ripe age of nine. Only then, the prayers had been directed at the cruel, unforgiving Catholic God.

Salut Satan, notre Ténébreux juste et indulgent…. Ave Satana, il nostro Tenebroso giusto e indulgente…. Salve Satanás, nuestro justo y perdonador Oscuro….

You continue until you’ve exhausted all the languages you know, and then you start over again with a different prayer. And again. And again, until somewhere in the middle of your Portuguese Hail Lilith you drift to sleep.

~~~

You wake the next morning in a much better mood. Perhaps last night you’d just been frustrated and overtired from working from dawn til far past dusk, but the bright birdsong from outside sounds happier today. It follows you from your dormitory, down the corridor and to the main hall, where the sounds of the breakfast hour echo out into the large space.

You could walk into the refectory if you wanted, without feeling intimidated (at least not as much as the day you arrived), but you don’t have much of an appetite this morning. Instead you take your time walking the length of the main hall. There are sculptures in spaces between the wood benches that you hadn’t noticed before. You find one you recognize, and it doesn’t surprise you that the Abbey houses a replica.

La génie du mal is a welcome sight. The Marseille Abbey also keeps a replica, although it is slightly smaller than this one. It’s a depiction of a fallen angel chained to a rock, with a crown held loosely in one hand while the other runs through his hair. His stone face is solemn but the bat-like wings splaying from his back seem to welcome you, as if saying, Hello child, do you remember me?

Yes, you do remember. You remember being eleven years old and traveling to Liège at the whim of your parents. You remember touring Saint Paul’s Cathedral and pretending to marvel at the Catholic imagery that you didn’t understand (or care for) at the time. Every depiction of Jesus on the cross looked the same. Every statue of a veiled Mother Mary reminded you to be chaste and pure and subservient to a God who thinks you a lesser being.

And then you’d seen him in the chapel of the Cathedral, placed at the back of a pulpit which wrapped around a stone pillar. The four sculptures of saints (whose names you don’t bother to remember) stood at the front of the pulpit, facing in towards the pews, as if standing guard over the sculpture. La génie du mal was tucked into the back, hidden from view, but you knew something must have been there. Why else would not one, but four saints be guarding a single pillar, when there were dozens lining the interior of the chapel?

So you’d slipped from the watchful eye of your parents while they were distracted by the tour guide, and rounded the pulpit to see the backside. He was there, carved in white marble and stationed in the niche between two curved staircases. The elaborate stained-glass windows cast speckles of yellow, blue, and violet over his body, and he glowed in the sunlight like he was a real angel fallen to Earth right in front of you.

You visited him a lot, afterwards.

You learned later that the pulpit was commissioned to represent “The Triumph of Religion over the Genius of Evil,” but you thought—and still think—that it was executed rather poorly. The four statues facing inward protect only the Cathedral from La génie du mal, but he, facing outward towards the windows, can see the rest of the world. Anyone looking into the chapel for refuge or guidance would only see him, colorful and bright, through the holy scenes of the stained glass.

You jump nearly ten feet in the air when a voice beside you snaps you from your thoughts. “Beautiful, isn’t he?”

You look to your left and catch the mismatched eyes of Papa. You hadn’t even heard him come up beside you. “Oui—ah, yes,” you say, swiftly correcting your French to English.

“You know,” Papa says, looking back to the marble replica, “the original was commissioned because the first version of it was too, eh, sexy.”

You do know, but the fact makes you laugh anyway. “The first version is nothing compared to this. It makes me think that the artist made this version even sexier, just to spite the Catholics. And to avenge his brother.”

Papa turns to you fully now, with his hands clasped behind his back. He wears a smart black suit adorned with an elaborate grucifix on the lapel. It’s a far cry from the sweatpants and t-shirt from last night, but no less comfortable. You can’t help but notice that the suit is tailored to perfection.

“His brother?” he asks.

You nod. “The original sculptor was the younger brother of this artist,” you explain, gesturing to La génie. “It’s a bit of a slap in the face for them to ask his own brother to redo his work. I can imagine they both felt a little slighted.”

Papa chuckles. “Perhaps just a little.”

A brief pause falls between the two of you, and you begin to wonder just how long it will take for the silence to grow awkward. So far you haven’t reached that point. Not with Papa, at least.

“It would have been nice to have the original piece,” Papa says unhurriedly. “I can’t imagine the Catholic Church would have agreed to let us buy it.”

You turn to look at him briefly, letting out a small laugh. “If the price was high enough, I’m sure they would have,” you say with an almost imperceptible edge of bitterness. “But I do think its place at Liège is where it belongs.”

“Have you been?” Papa asks you, his eyebrows slightly raised as he turns to meet your gaze.

“I have,” you answer. You don’t elaborate further on the nature of your visit. “That’s not to say I don’t believe it would have a good home here, Papa. I just think that the irony of its placement is lost on the Catholics.”

He asks about it, and you explain. His eyes never leave your face as you talk. You don’t feel scrutinized like you had under Sister Imperator’s gaze, though. Papa’s eyes are warm and interested and you could swear they almost glow in the morning light. He nods and hums with each point you make, seeming genuinely intrigued by your argument that La génie holds more influence facing outward rather than inwards.

It’s a subject you’re passionate about. La génie had set you on a path towards the Satanic Ministry that day. By age eleven you already knew you didn’t want to be Catholic despite your parents’ efforts to instill their beliefs on you, but you didn’t know exactly what you believed in. Until you saw him, solemn and still, his magnificence hidden behind a stone pillar at Liège.

Despite Papa’s careful listening, you realize you must be rambling and cut yourself off. “Sorry, Papa. I don’t mean to talk your ear off.”

“Oh, no!” Papa says, shaking his head. “No need to apologize, Sister. I enjoy listening to you speak.”

Heat blossoms over your cheeks. You almost miss how his own face flushes a slight shade of pink. Almost.

“Eh, I mean—” Papa begins to fiddle with his own fingers. “What I mean to say is that you make a lot of good points. Yes.”

It’s obvious that he’s nervous over the comment he made. It was straightforward and a little flirty, and you know that in the bright hall he can most likely see the pink beneath your skin. Maybe he hadn’t meant for it to come out quite so… well, flirty. Or maybe he thinks he overstepped a boundary, that he said something he shouldn’t have? It was just a comment about listening to you talk, it shouldn’t be that big of a deal. Satan, why are you so flustered all the sudden?

You give him a small smile. “Either way… thank you, Papa. I should, uh—”

“Yes, me too—”

“Right, have a good day,” you say, a bit quicker than is necessary, and turn on your heel to start towards the library.

~~~

Once again, Copia finds himself watching you go.

Rationally, he knows that you’re not upset with him. You didn’t leave because of something he’d said or done that made you uncomfortable. If that was the case, he hopes that you’d tell him. He would hate for you to feel unwelcome or upset, especially because of him.

But oh, how your eyes shone while you spoke about La génie.

Hearing footsteps approaching from his right, Copia turns and finds Terzo looking rather smug as he strolls towards him. He wears a big, stupid grin on his face and looks at Copia like he’d just discovered the stash of sweets on the bottom drawer of his bedside table.

“And who was that?” Terzo asks with feigned innocence. He comes to a stop next to Copia and clasps his hands behind his back. They both stare at La génie.

Copia chews the inside of his cheek. “Who was who?”

Terso tuts his tongue. “Oh, don’t be coy with me, fratellino. We both know I’m talking about the Sister you were just ogling.” “I wasn’t ogling,” Copia protests. Terzo is always teasing, always nudging, always subtly poking fun at him for no reason other than he finds it fun. That’s what little brothers are for, Terzo says. To poke fun at, and to teach the ways of the world. “And we both know that you know who she is.”

“Ah, yes, I do know,” Terzo says with a shrug. “But I wanted to hear what you had to say.”

Copia looks at his brother. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Terzo says, “you seemed quite invested in that conversation just now. And then you turned a very obvious shade of red, and she walked away. Forgive me, I’m a gossip.”

Copia laughs. “There’s nothing to gossip about, Terzo. She told me about this sculpture and where the original is housed. That’s it.”

Terzo tilts his head, leaning in slightly. “That does not explain why you both were so red in the face, fratellino.”

Copia sighs and runs a hand through his hair. So it was obvious, even from down the hall. “I… may have said that I like listening to her speak.”

“Oh,” Terzo says flatly. He sounds almost disappointed. “I thought you might have told her something else.”

“What? Why?” Copia asks. “Was that a weird thing to say?”

Terzo chuckles, shaking his head. “No. It’s a perfectly good compliment. But you both turned so red that I thought you invited her to your chambers.”

Copia nearly chokes on his own saliva. “Wh–what?” he sputters. “Terzo, I barely know her.”

“Well, I wouldn’t think so with the way you were looking at her!” Terzo says, his voice pitched higher to his own defense. “‘My darling, you speak so beautifully, it is like birdsong in the early morning. I simply cannot resist the way you look—’”

“Stop—”

“‘—in the sunlight. Your eyes shine so brightly and your mouth moves so gracefully—’”

“Terzo, I—”

“‘—that I can’t help but wonder what it might feel like on my—’”

“Okay,” Copia throws his hands up. He storms off towards the refectory for breakfast.

Terzo’s laugh echoes through the main hall as he jogs to catch up with Copia. “What? I’m only saying what I thought you said.”

Copia hadn’t said any of those things to you, but that doesn’t mean he hadn’t thought them. It’s true; your eyes did shine in the sunlight streaming through the windows, and your mouth did move gracefully. Although those parts of you are attractive to him and he’d readily admit that you’re beautiful, it was the way you spoke that caught him. You seemed to forget your timidness, your reservations. You spoke freely and enthusiastically, like you’d forgotten you were speaking to Papa and instead spoke to a friend. Copia wonders if La génie holds some significance to you outside of just being an interesting sculpture.

Copia resolves to ask you the next time he sees you, and he finds himself hoping that it’s soon.

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ghulehthezombiequeen · 3 months

Text

little sunshine. - i wanna dance with somebody (who loves me)

cardinal copia x sister of sin! reader part 6.

masterlist. / little sunshine masterlist.

taglist: @gothicwonderlust, @jaymechaos, @siouxbauhaus, @millerthats

a/n: dude... idk why this took me so long to write but i really really hope you enjoy it! this is the longest chapter i've ever written (i think) as well! also we're not gonna talk about the theme being winter when valentine's day is literally next week,,,,,, i swear i started this in january ok

warnings/things to note: female reader, pet names, autistic Copia (perhaps), established relationship, this is basically the 'prom' episode of the series ykwim

enjoy <3

word count: 3,012 words.

The weeks preparing had flown by, the decorations slowly but surely popping up around the halls of the Ministry. You were walking to pick up your dress from the dry cleaner’s. It wasn’t new (you’d found it hanging in your closet left by the previous Sister who’d moved away), but it fit you perfectly, as if the previous owner had left it for you on purpose. The dress itself was drop-dead gorgeous— a wine red with some black lace trim on the Halter-strap bodice, and the Grucifix logo embroidered on the left side of the hip, the skirt flowing downwards in a trumpet style.

As you carried it to your room, your friend Sister Lucie was walking along with you, chatting about some sort of ghoul drama.

“Allegedly he tried to bury them in the garden, but one of them escaped the hole and lit half of the plants on fire!” She tittered, holding her royal blue dress delicately.

You couldn’t help but giggle as well. “That seems so silly. Do you know whose ghoul that was?” “Oh, uh… I think it was your boyfriend’s.”

That made you stop in your tracks, your heart dropping to your stomach. “Boyfriend? What are you talking about?” Lucie stopped as well. “Well, yeah… you and that Cardinal dude, the one with the rats? You guys fucked, didn’t you?”

You coughed, your face heating up. “Just because I spent the night in his room doesn’t mean we fucked!” Her cheeks flushed in embarrassment. “Oh… sorry. But you guys are an item though, right? Sister Audrey caught y’all making out in the kitchen a few weeks ago.”

You rolled your eyes in annoyance, “It’s fine. And yes, we did. But we’re not… official yet, I don’t think. I mean, I’d like to be, but he’s, y’know, pretty shy about all this, so..” She nodded in understanding. “I get it. But really?? Copia, of all the Cardinals?? I don’t mean to be rude, but girl— you can do better than him!” You shook your head and smiled. “I know, but I really like him!”

Finally, you reach your room, where Sister Leah was already starting to get ready, her hair in silk curlers which she’d left in overnight. “Who’s your date, hm?” You teased as you hung up your dress, sitting on your side at the shared vanity space.

“I’m going by myself, you know me. I like being single, thank you very much.” Leah replied, rolling her eyes as she slid into her dress— a black-and-gold fitted dress, with off the shoulder sleeves.

You checked her out and smiled. “You’re gorgeous, girlie! What are you going to do with your hair though?” She took out her curlers and lightly combed her raven-colored hair, matching perfectly with her tan skin. “No idea. Maybe just this or have Melissa braid it for me when I’m there so it won’t get in the way when I dance. Oh, I forgot to ask! You’re coming down with us, right?”

“No, no this time.” You shook your head and smiled. “I’m going with Copia!”

Her eyes widened in disbelief. “Seriously?! You were for real about that?! Is he, like, holding you at gunpoint or something?! Did his rats bite you and you’re contracting rabies?!” You laughed. “No! I just… I like him a lot. He’s actually really sweet and considerate. He’s very old-fashioned, you know? Not because he’s old, but— you know what I mean, right?”

She made a face, sitting next to you as she started to apply her makeup. “Whatever you say.”

Around 7pm, you were ready to go. Leah and a few of your friends were making TikTok’s about their outfits and hairstyles. You wore dark red-to-black eyeshadow, fiercely sharp cat-eye black eyeliner, and of course, deep red lipstick to match your dress. You’d also put your hair half up half down, lightly curled and adorned with golden rose charms. Your friends were all gorgeous, but your beauty was unmatched.

“Ugh, all my friends are hot!!” Sister Calista whined as she looked at the photos on her phone.

You and Copia had been texting back and forth as well, sending snippets of each other’s outfits. The one that made you audibly snort was when he tried taking a mirror selfie, but he was holding Biscotti in one hand and on the verge of dropping him as Biscotti seemed more interested in chewing the phone case than posing for the photo.

You made it your lock screen because it was just so adorable.

Five or so minutes later, you heard a knock on the door, causing everyone’s heads to turn. You stood up in your black platform Mary Janes, making you maybe two or three inches taller than usual, and opened the door to see a nervous Copia standing in front of you with a bouquet of roses. His suit was similar to his Cardinal’s robes, probably a standard uniform for formal events, you figured. Only this time he was wearing a tie with the Grucifix logo printed on it as a design.

Upon seeing your beauty, of course his face would immediately flush almost as red as your dress. “Eh…. You look… Wow. I-I mean—! Ugh, why is this so difficult…” he mumbled, turning his head and holding out the bouquet for you. “These- these are- they’re for you. You like roses, yes? Please say yes…”

You were so touched by the romantic gesture, taking them delicately and cooing. “You’re so sweet, thank you! Give me one minute, I’ll put these by my bed.”

“Oh, okay. Good. Yeah, go— go do that. Mhm.” He nodded awkwardly, giving you a lopsided smile as you closed the door briefly, showing off the flowers to your girlfriends, who also collectively ‘aww’ed.

“I’ll see you guys there!” You called as you opened the door again, stepping out and holding your black clutch bag. “Aww, you got all dressed up for me.” You purred, smirking mischievously as he stood staring at you like a dumb fool.

“Eh? Oh! Y-Yes, hello!” He cleared his throat and fixed his tie before offering his arm out. “I-I can take your bag? Or you can keep it, that’s- that’s fine too.”

You handed your clutch to him with a small titter, lacing your arm into his as well. “I-I’m so glad we can do this… you are the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen, amore mio…” he mumbled timidly.

“And you are the most handsome, sweetheart.” You smiled and he flushed even redder, this man was pathetic. But you loved him either way.

The formal was being held in the main chapel of the Ministry, all the pews cleared off to the sides and replaced with round tables and chairs. There was an opening in the middle, presumably the dance floor. To the left, a photobooth where a group of Siblings were bombarding the poor photographer. To the right was the dessert and beverage bar, ranging in many different cuisines to fit everyone’s dieting habits. Everything was decorated with icicles and snowflakes, little ice skates placed intricately around the room and miniature light-up snow globes as centerpieces. Copia let out a low whistle as he checked out the area. “Wow… very fancy-shmancy, ain’t it?”

You nodded with a soft chuckle. “Yeah, they really went all out this year. Wonder why?”

He shrugged. “Did you, um… want to take a photo when it’s not busy? O-Or we don’t have to! I… I don’t know. I just wanted a nice photo of you for my wallet. N-Not in the stalker way, though! Like, eh… W-We’re together now, right? S-So– I-I mean!–”

He buried his face in his hands again, and you pried them away gently with a soft smile playing at your lips. “You’re so silly. Never change, Copia. Never change.”

He gulped and nodded, unable to look you in the eye as his cheeks continued to burn red. “You’re too good to me. I-I don’t deserve you… I’m so pathetic.”

“Hey, hey.” You took the sides of his face in your hands, forcing him to meet your gaze. “Don’t talk like that. You are just as deserving of love as anyone else in this room, okay? Now, we’re here to have fun and celebrate the new year, yeah?”

He nodded, an apologetic smile on his face, leaning to yours and lightly pecking your nose. “Thank you, amore.”

You hummed in contentment, releasing his face but not before you returned the gesture, your lipstick transferring onto his nose but neither of you noticed. As you sat at your assigned table together, chatting about some of your interests (he was heavily invested in some retro game called ‘Driving Miss Daisy,’ which you’d never heard of before), a ghoul approached you both and got you two as it was your turn for the photo booth.

“Ahm.. good. Good-good, let’s go, yes?” he smiled crookedly, offering his arm yet again.

You walked arm in arm and stood in front of a periwinkle backdrop decorated with sparkly blue and white streamers, along with snowflake cutouts and a few blue and silver balloons. The ghoul told you both that you could take up to four photos, and pointed to the table nearby where there were cutout props and cheap boas in different colors. You took a white one and wrapped it around Copia’s neck, drawing him in closer until your bodies were flushed together. You smiled and looked at the camera, where the ghoul was ready to take the first photo. Copia on the other hand was mumbling a multitude of unintelligible words in Itanglese as the ghoul snapped the photo, the flash stinging your eyes a bit. “Aw, c’mon, baby! Smile!” you giggled and tossed the boa back to the table, now switching your pose to the classic prom pose, only your arms were around his waist, his back pressed against your chest as you hugged him closer.

“Eh… Amore, this– this is the wrong way,” he mumbled. “I’m supposed to be holding the girl, n-not– um..”

“But you’re the babygirl in this relationship,” you teased as you propped your chin on his shoulder, your cheeks grazing each other’s. He squeaked and whimpered a weak reply, his voice unable to be comprehensible.

The ghoul took another photo, cooing softly at the sight of you two being so affectionate.

You took two more photos, one of him with your lips hovering over your cheek and you copying him in the other. However, you actually kissed his cheek, and this time you did notice that your dark lipstick had left an imprint on his pale complexion. You chuckled but didn’t say anything, taking his hand and waiting for the ghoul to put the photos in a collage and print out two copies.

Copia kept glancing around nervously, as if he was ashamed to be seen with you in fear of others thinking you took him to this event out of pity.

You lightly squeezed his hand, causing his head to snap back at you. He gulped as he saw your warning expression, causing him to nod and take a deep breath.

The ghoul chirped to get both of your attention, holding out the photo strips for you to take. You thanked the ghoul and gave him a few appreciative scritches to his chin, causing him to trill and clap his hands in joy.

You handed him his copy as he led you back to the table, noticing a few Siblings giving him playful smiles as he still hadn’t noticed the kiss mark you left on him. However, he turned to you as you both sat down, looking at you timidly. “Do I… have something on my face?”

“Oh, only a little gift I left you from earlier,” you hummed and opened your clutch, handing him your compact mirror so he could see. His eyes widened as he saw the outline of your lips on his left cheek.

“S-Sorella! Amore mio, perché non me l'hai detto prima? I-I-I look like un idiota!” he sputtered out quickly, taking his glove off and rapidly swiping at it to get it off. His face was almost as scarlet as your dress from how embarrassed he was.

You couldn’t help but laugh, taking out a makeup remover wipe and helping him.

“Ugh, you torture an old man,” he groaned.

“Oh, honey, it’s not that bad.”

“It is! Now I look even more pathetic…”

You were about to say something sarcastic in return, but more Siblings and their dates had arrived at your table and kept grabbing your attention. However you kept your hand securely fitted with Copia’s under the table, trying your best to include him in the conversation but it seemed like the Siblings were too scared to confront him due to his rank.

As more people filed in, Copia’s hand gripped your own hand tighter. He was anxious, he had never been good with big crowds of people that he knew. Sure, he could sing nonstop for two hours for thousands of people, but these were people he saw on a day-to-day basis.

You held up his hand and pressed a kiss to the back, running your thumb on the side soothingly in hopes to calm him down, which evidently worked; he took in a deep breath and smiled weakly.

“I-I’ll go get some drinks. Did you want anything, water, soda?” he offered, he was so polite.

You opted for water, smiling and watching him as he wandered to the beverage bar. The Siblings sitting at the table with you took this opportunity to talk to you alone.

“Girl, why?” Brother Nathan asked.

“What do you mean ‘why?’”

“Because he’s– eugh!” Brother Theo made a sour face, holding onto Nathan’s hand tightly. “He’s a Cardinal, much higher ranking than you! Is he your sugar daddy or something? Because honey, we can call someone to raise your paycheck at the library–”

“Stop, ew! He’s not doing anything like that!” You scoffed. “I actually really enjoy his company. He’s just shy, if you would just give him a chance to warm up to you, and maybe even warm up to him in return, you'll know he’s very sweet and considerate!”

“Right… and this is the guy that has like… fifteen rats?” Sibling Everest grimaced.

“Oh, stop it, E.” Sister Nicole huffed. “Don’t say that like we don’t have a pet snake in our room.”

“But it’s only one of Nugget! There’s multiple rats!” They defended themself.

“Guys, maybe we should chill. I don’t think he’d appreciate us talking smack about him behind his back like this. We’re supposed to be having fun, remember?” Theo spoke up before the argument got heated.

Everest sighed. “Whatever.”

Copia returned not a minute later, holding five drinks in both hands. “Eh… I got you all some, uh.. Some water. Here,” he passed them along the table, now noticing some tension in the air from the previous conversation.

“Ah… it’s about my rats, isn’t it?” he chuckled sheepishly. “They are perfectly healthy, no- no bad germs, I can assure. And they mostly stay in my room, don’t worry.”

You chuckled as he attempted to socialize, holding his hand gently in reassurance. The rest of the Siblings nodded and tried to be more friendly, though every time they spoke to him, they gave you all skeptical looks.

After everyone had filled their stomachs with food and drinks, Sister Imperator made a few announcements congratulating the upper ranks on a very successful turnout of new Siblings and churchgoers, along with a few achievements from the newly summoned ghouls. She made it pretty short as Papa Nihil needed some medical attention and was wheeled out of the room on oxygen, clutching his saxophone and grumbled in a rusty voice, “I can still play, Seestor! Let me play just once!”

Soon after, I Wanna Dance With Somebody by Whitney Houston started playing, courtesy of the ghoul manning the DJ booth. Siblings just sat awkwardly, unsure if they could dance on the floor or not. You took this opportunity to grab Copia’s hands and yank him out of the chair, pulling him to the dance floor. “C’mon, baby! Let’s go make this official!”

“A-A-Amore, I cannot dance!” he whimpered shakily as you took him to the middle of the dance floor, suddenly twirling him around and making him do the same to you, causing you to giggle. “Yes, you can dance! I’ve seen you on stage before!” “Well, y-yes, but not like this!!” he gasped as you dipped him, pecking him on the lips once more, the watchful eyes of the Siblings widening and a few gasping in shock and amusement. Not a moment later, more Siblings were slowly crawling to the dance floor, singing along and dancing with their friends or partners.

“I-I don’t know the dance to this song, amore!” Copia mumbled, letting you take the lead as you sang the lyrics to him, laughing. “There’s not supposed to be a certain dance, hon! Just feel the music!”

As the song continued, Copia began to feel more confident, finally twirling you around a few times and dipping you in return. “Is it like this, eh… baby?”

“Mhm,” you smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck as he brought you upright again. You both took a breather to gaze into one another’s eyes, a faint blush on both of your faces. Copia gulped before impulsively leaning in and pressing his lips to yours, holding the kiss for several seconds. You could feel his hands starting to coil around your waist as you both ignored the collective oohing from your peers, and just as he pulled away you followed him, kissing back. This wasn’t a kiss of lust, nor of desire. This felt natural, as if you two were meant to be together, in each other’s arms. It felt like true love.

As you finally pulled away with a chuckle, you could swear you could hear Copia singing under his breath, “I wanna dance with somebody, with somebody who loves me…”

~~~

previous chapter. | ???

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themratts · 9 months

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i just love drawing alena in pretty dresses <3

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copiousloverofcopia · 1 year

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Because I am INSANE here is another Chapter fic I have started featuring Copia and OC Astrid!

We will see where this goes because I have some people telling me include my signature stuff and others who want it left out. Feel free to tell me what you'd like to see in the comments!

Something Blue

Sister of Sin Astrid is anything but excited for Cardinal Copia to return home from tour. As his assistant, she leads a life of monotony and boredom from which she longs for more. When the Cardinal returns, anointed as Papa Emeritus IV, she is faced with an unwanted and unavoidable situation predicated on her family's position within the church. Will Astrid rise to what has been asked of her or will she destroy everything and leave it all behind?

Also available HERE on A03!

Commissions currently closed! They will open up again once I finish editing cosplay photos from my sessions 😅

Anyways here we got ghesties!!!

Below the cut for space

She smoothed over the crisp folds made in her black sheets. Lastly, fluffing up her well-slept on pillows before heading to the refectory. The smell of freshly baked bread was already wafting up the stairs from inside the kitchen—and a dutiful sister was never late for breakfast. Astrid was done up, smug with how well her mascara and eyeliner had come together for a change. Her porcelain pale face–perfectly dewy, with cheeks that blushed a delicate shade of rose. Her habit had been freshly ironed and veil well affixed to her dark navy hair. Carefully selected strands, falling down and framing her face. Adding to her natural beauty as she entered the hall.

Today was a special day for the Abbey. The Cardinal would be returning from tour, and tonight the siblings and clergy would be ripe with celebration. Everyone was preparing for the festivities–not only for this triumphant return, but a special announcement to be made at the night’s celebratory dinner. Despite the expected fanfare, Astrid couldn’t care less about it.

Had it not been for her determination to show Cirrus what she had been missing since their breakup, Astrid would have absent-mindedly gotten drunk and ignored the celebrations all together. Enjoying the spoils so generously donated from Secondo’s stash, much more than rejoicing in the old man’s return. She was the Cardinal’s assistant. Day in and day out, watching him work the finances—a prosaic job bestowed so lovely upon her by the Deacon Patrick. An old friend of the family who so happened to be the head of Sibling Affairs.

She had wanted something exciting to do after officially taking her vows. It was her family’s idea however that she worked with the Cardinal, and of course she couldn’t say no. Ideas and dreams of a more interesting life—crushed with her appointment. There would be no working in the garden with Papa Primo, surrounded by the beauty of exotic flowers and his mystical practices with herbs and spells. Nor would she get the chance to bend down in low-cut garments in front of the Third as she tended to his “needs”.

No, all the potential for something more intriguing, ruined for the sake of giving the old man someone to double check his grammar on expensive reports and verify that budgets reached Sister Imperator in a timely fashion. It was a wonder to her that she hadn’t already gone stark-raving mad. From the moment they gave her the position she longed for more. Disappointed that she was destined to live out her days in monotony. In service to the Ministry and to others, unable to make many choices for herself.

It was unavoidable, almost as much as an Emeritus son's ascension to the Papacy. Astrid’s father was a high clergyman for years before his passing, and her mother too, came from a bloodline that spanned back centuries. A family that helped to found the Satanic church in Italy—now pushing for her to continue her studies and move up within the ranks of the clergy. It was assumed that one day she would become an abbess or even a sister akin to the likes of Sister Imperator. A woman of high regard and power.

Either way, she seemed to be expected to take up a mantle set out for her by a family she barely knew. Astrid was angry that she’d be unable to truly forge a future of her own. Her job with Copia, a reminder of just how tedious and unexciting the Ministry could be. That life for her was meant to be full of hard work and appeasement—masking her own desires.

Copia himself was a kind man and Astrid bore no ill-will toward him. Although she could do without his obsession with his rats and other strange habits. Like the time she caught him riding around his tricycle at 3am—not the sight she expected to see when Cirrus and her had crept downstairs to fool around in the pews. She was ambivalent towards him, more caught up in her own misery than giving him much attention. Not really friends, but friendly one might say–though she could tell that the Cardinal felt differently about her.

She paid it no mind and Copia was too much of a gentleman to bring it up, but It was a relief when Sister Imperator had convinced Papa Nihil to appoint him as head of Ghost, leaving Astrid to be responsibility free for a bit while he was gone. Not only would the desk work be on hold, but Cirrus too would be gone. The break up between them, leaving a bad taste in Astrid’s mouth. One she was glad to be rid of as the tour began.

Today however, they were back. Any minute now, the ghouls of the band along with the Cardinal would arrive and she needed to hurry up if she wanted to stuff something into her face before they returned. When she had finally reached the refectory, Astrid grabbed herself a cappuccino and bowl of granola before sitting down on the bench just at the front of the room. Watching the main entrance from the doorway. Only a few moments passed before the inevitable cracking open of the door.

“Argh why does this shit seem to get heavier every time I have to carry it.” Dew hissed, trying to reposition his pack higher up on his back. His tail, swishing around fast from side to side. A sure sign of annoyance as the other ghouls began filling in behind him.

“Quit your blubbering. We are on break now Dew, no more luggage for a while.” Aether said, rolling his eyes as he lugged in his own bags through the door.

“I don’t have any problem.” laughed Mountain, who picked both Dew and his bags up and walked them further inside. Effortless like he’d lifted a tissue from the ground. The other ghouls laughed a bit as they entered, watching Dew struggling to free himself from Mountain’s grasp. Astrid, almost choking on her coffee as we watched the slinky ghoul drop to the ground.

It was amazing to her just how much like family the ghouls were with each other. She was always envious of how well they got along and just how much they all seemed to truly care about one another. She was also not shy about discovering how well they seemed to all be in the bedroom. Dating Alpha some years back before her and Cirrus had gotten together. She continued watching them as she took her empty bowl to the counter and threw away her napkin, next coming Cumulus and the Cardinal.

Astrid noticed almost immediately something was different about him. Copia seemed happy to be home, which was all together expected, but his smile—it had changed. More confident than she had remembered. He glanced towards her, nodding to acknowledge he’d seen her before Astrid sent back a lackluster nod of her own.

As her eyes shifted away, she caught sight of Cirrus walking inside. The tour seemed to have done wonders for her. The ghoulette’s ashen skin glowing as she wrapped her arm around Sunshine, kissing her fully and deep as they walked inside. The two of them giggling together like they’d spent the whole tour held up in bed. Astrid’s blood began to boil at the sight. Her anger and jealousy seething through every pore.

She took off out of her seat, rushing through the entryway to the refectory and down the hall towards the chapel. Copia watched, listening to the conversation of the ghouls and a few of the siblings that had come to greet them at the door. He could feel something was wrong. Though Astrid had never allowed him to get close, it didn’t take a genius to see the pain in her eyes.

“Everything ok Papa.” Aether asked, noticing the concerned look on Copia’s face. He handed his bag over to Aether, as the ghoul insisted, and gave him a small smile before speaking.

“I—ah…I think I will go check on Sister Astrid. She seems upset.” he explained.

“Ha la Luna storta. I wouldn’t worry about it.” chimed in Marcus, a brother of sin who had been waiting for them to return. Copia started to walk off, watching as Astrid disappeared towards the chapel.

“Papa, Sister Imperator is expecting you in her office.” Rain reminded him. Copia waved his hand to shrug off Rain’s concern. He needed to know what had the sister so upset.

“No worries…I will head up there soon Rain…” he assured them as he took off towards the chapel.

How dare she move on so fast…fucking bitch. Glad I was just so easily replaced, Astrid raged. Her knees hitting the hassock as she began to pray for strength. Lucifer knows she didn’t want Cirrus back. The sister’s affections for the ghoulette, waning fast over the course of their rather dysfunctional relationship. But the idea of her moving on so easily, however, really pissed Astrid off.

She felt herself begin to cry. The eye make-up she had prided herself on, beginning to run down her cheeks as she failed to hold them back. Just behind her was the sound of the door. A small creak that echoed gently in the room, alerting her to another’s presence.

Astrid quickly wiped away the tears and pulled herself up onto the seat of the pew. Her heart, racing as she prepared for the worst. Hoping that Cirrus hadn’t followed her in. That no one had seen her losing her grip.

“Cara mia?” A familiar voice spoke, as a warm body took its place beside her. Astrid looked over to see Copia sitting there. His face, full of concern and empathy.

“It’s nothing, Cardinal. How was the tour?” she asked, hoping that Copia would be too polite to push further.

“Glorious cara, there is truly nothing like it. The ghouls and I have grown quite close over the past 2 years. I honestly am very excited to do it again once I have had a chance to work on the next album of course.” he smiled.

“Oh wow…I’m surprised that the clergy were that impressed, but they must be if they are letting you do another tour cycle.” Astrid said innocently. All the frontmen of Ghost she had seen were Papas after retirement. Terzo was the last and then Copia was chosen reportedly as a last stitch effort to mix things up by Sister Imperator who felt the Emeritus sons weren’t pulling in enough support for the Dark Lord.

“Ah yes well…” Copia began, Astrid sensing that her words could be taken as an insult. She wasn’t the best at thinking before speaking.

“Sorry Cardinal I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s alright Astrid, I take no offense. Anyways I am happy to be home for now. I missed you while on tour.” he told her, trying to change the subject–his words still however very much true.

“Oh? Why is that?” she laughed.

“Well there was no one there to make sarcastic comments or joke around with me—except Dew and Aether, but if I am being honest cara, I prefer your humor.” he explained, his words warm and comforting.

“Heh…well then, I missed you too.” Astrid sniffled, no longer caring if the Cardinal knew the real reason she had come to the chapel. He was a compassionate man after all and, following his kind words, she felt she could confess her sin. Be absolved by him in some way to help her make it through the night’s celebrations.

“Cardinal…”

“Sister Astrid…”

“The real reason I came in here…well…it’s because of Cirrus. I'm angry and I needed to be alone.” she admitted, Copia’s brows raising up on high his forehead with her words.

“Cirrus? I thought things were—”

“They are… they have been. I just…I just didn’t think she’d move on so soon.”

“Ah, si…I understand. This thing between her and Sunshine is making you feel insecure, eh?” he asked her. How astute he was, a trait that both impressed and irritated Astrid to the core. She narrowed her gaze, unable to hide her discontent from Copia, she then turned to face away. Staring forward at the large stone grucifix that sat atop the sanctuary.

“I’m just tired of feeling unimportant.” she sighed, once again wiping away tears.

“You are not unimportant cara. I certainly need you.” Copia laughed a bit, trying to lighten the mood. His comment made no difference to Astrid. She was mad and hurt, nothing he was going to say would change it. He didn’t want him to be upset either but being unable to help. Astrid, beginning to feel as though she shouldn’t have said anything.

“Yeah.” was all she could muster, becoming quiet as the two of them sat together in the pews.

“Well…While I know this won’t make your pain go away sister, you are very much needed.” Copia smiled, reaching over to touch her hand. Astrid instinctively tensed, looking over to him confusedly.

“Cardinal—” she began before Copia cut her off.

“Shhh…Astrid. I will share a secret with you, ok? But you must tell no one until after dinner tonight.” Copia whispered, his head swiveling around to make sure the two of them were truly alone. Astrid’s demeanor changed. Finally, something exciting, even if it was a small secret between her and her boss.

“Promise, my lips are sealed.” she promised. Copia smiled once again and began to look a bit nervous. Astrid, growing more intrigued by the second. Finally, after what felt like hours, even if it had only been a minute, he told her.

“I am now Papa. As of now I am Papa Emeritus the Fourth.”

When Copia had left Astrid in the chapel, she was floored. As he shut the door behind him, leaving at the behest of Aether and Rain, she couldn’t believe it. How? Why? They made Copia…Papa?

The choice to her seemed to be completely out of left field. Copia was a smart man, but different from the others. He wasn’t even Papa Nihil’s son so how could he be an “Emeritus”. None of it made sense, but in true Astrid fashion her thoughts immediately went to how it would impact her. Would she have to change positions, or would she now be a Papal assistant?

The thoughts of Copia ascending now thrilling her. If she were to be Papa’s assistant that would open up way more opportunities for things like travel and parties and excitement. Astrid was all but giddy now with the news, hoping that it would play out like she’d envisioned in her mind.

As she left the chapel, she decided the evening couldn’t come fast enough. Now there would be cause for celebration and the night hadn’t been completely ruined by seeing Cirrus after all. She took off back to the dorms. Wanting to pick out an outfit for such a special occasion—having the insider information no one else had, when she was stopped by the Deacon on her way in.

“Sister Astrid.” he said as he stood in front of the door. A tall man, thin and sharp looking in his Diaconal vestments. Black alb and stole. His black dalmatic adorned in red grucifixes along its center. Clearly he had been conferred his position during the time of Papa Emeritus the First’s reign.

“Deacon Patrick, for what do I owe the honor?” she asked, laughing a bit under her breath. He was like an uncle to her. Her mother, off overseas with her second husband, leaving the Deacon to watch over her like a second father.

“I am to fetch you and bring you to Sister Imperator’s office at once agnellino.” he smiled back, walking over and wrapping his arm over her shoulder, mindful of the fall of her veil.

“Oh? That's strange.” Astrid hummed, hoping it had to do with Copia’s new appointment…and she was right.

When she walked into Sister’s office, she was hit with a chill. She had half a mind to think it was Sister herself causing it. The woman always was standoffish and all together cold to those who resided beneath her in station. When she rounded the chairs facing the desk, she saw Copia already sitting in one, anxiously stroking his mustache as both her and the Deacon took their seats.

The three of them sat together in silence for several minutes. All looking toward one another but never speaking. “I hope I haven’t kept you all waiting long.” came a voice from behind them. Astrid immediately recognized it as Sister’s, though she was used to it being a bit more like a bark than the calm tone it was today.

“Not at all. We have only just arrived, though I can’t speak for Papa.” the Deacon laughed, bowing his head in reverence towards Copia. Copia only nodded back, still looking anxious—almost child-like in Sister’s presence.

“Good…ah! I see you’ve brought with you Sister Astrid.” she beamed, a cold chill shooting down the young sister’s spine. It was unnerving to see her excited about something and the way she reacted immediately to seeing her, set Astrid on edge.

“Of course Sister, I was told you asked to see me?”

“Yes…I am so glad you came. Well then, I don’t see any sense in resting on ceremony. I wanted to have this little meeting to discuss things prior to dinner this evening as it will be on the minds and, I'm sure, the lips of every sibling before sundown.” Her words, puzzling the three of them.

“You mean Copia becoming Papa?” Deacon Patrick asked.

“Well of course that…but there’s something else I needed to discuss specifically with you two.” she explained staring straight at Copia and Astrid. Copia’s eyes widened, it had to be something big for her to be carrying on like this. Astrid could feel her heart beginning to pound as she waited to hear whatever it was the Sister would tell them.

“Yes Sister, go on with it then please.” Copia asked, trying still to find his voice when it came to her.

“Yes…As Papa Emeritus the Fourth there are obligations to be upheld as I am sure you are all aware. This was not a decision made lightly by the Ministry, but with Papa Nihil’s other sons all having a go at it and still managing to fall short…changes needed to be made.”

“Am I missing something here Sister? You make it sound as if—” the Deacon began before Sister Imperator cut him off.

“As if Copia is Nihil’s son? That is because he is Patrick. Copia is Nihil and MY son.” Sister proclaimed. Astrid and Deacon Patrick audibly gasped, jaws hitting the proverbial floor with the revelation.

“So that means…” Astrid said, trying to work it all out in her overwhelmed state.

“That means that he is the rightful next heir to the miter and always has been because of his birthright. Copia has known for some time, but now it will become common knowledge since I am sure since the ghouls don’t know how to keep their mouths shut. That being said, it brings me to you Sister Astrid.

“What about her?” the Deacon asked.

“Well you see because of his new position we are now in need of some other adjustments to her position as well.” Sister Imperator continued. This was it, Astrid thought to herself. Finally she would be getting in on some excitement. Hoping to kiss the paperwork goodbye, leaving it behind for something greater.

“I am very excited to hear that.” Astrid nodded. Sister smiled back at her, sitting down at her desk before steepling her fingers.

“Cardi—Papa. Now that you have ascended it is by both mine and the Ministry’s judgment that you be betrothed, acquiring a Prime Mover.”

“I’m sorry, a what?” Copia asked her. The Sister took in a deep breath, looking directly at Astrid. All three of them—Copia, Astrid, and the Deacon sat pupils blown, waiting for her to continue.

“A Prime Mover Copia—a wife. One day you will be expected to carry on the Papal line. None of the others are in a position to oblige and that leaves the task to you.” Sister explained. Copia lowered his head, looking into his lap accepting what she was saying to him with a nod. Both Astrid and the Deacon left in shock.

“Oh you can’t mean.” Astrid began, realizing now what her new position was supposed to be.

“You have been chosen by the ministry to be Copia’s Prime Mover. The two of you will be wed within the next few weeks, once things have settled down a bit and we have had a chance to plan things out.” Sister said, flipping through some paperwork on her desk. Immediately both the Copia and Astrid stood up from their chairs.

“Sister, I am not sure Sister Ast—” Copia protested, knowing that despite his own feelings, Astrid had not once given him any indication she’d felt the same.

“This has to be a joke?!” Astrid snapped, her blood running cold with madness. How dare they just decide who she would marry, that she would bear children—that she’d be stuck playing Suzy homemaker with the awkward tricyclist of an old man.

“I assure you it is not a joke Sister. You and Copia will be wed by the end of the Autumnal Equinox. Is that understood!” Sister Imperator hissed back, her force like a knife held to everyone’s throat. Both Copia and the Deacon stared at Astrid, awaiting what she’d say next.

“I—I can’t.” she cried, running from her chair and out the door of the office. Tears pouring forth like rain in a storm. Her heart aching and her mind swirling with anger. Copia got up from his seat, nodding to the Deacon as he attempted to make his own way out.

“And just where do you think you are going?” Sister Imperator asked him, eyebrow cocked and smug look on her face.

“I am going to talk to her. She is meant to be my bride Sister, is she not?” he said sharply. Sister only nodded to him as he left on his way to talk to Astrid—his bride to be.

Notes:

Ha la Luna storta-Her moon is crooked (An Italian saying for someone being in a bad mood)

Hassock- kneeler (place where one kneels to pray)

Dalmatic- vestment worn by Deacons, similar to priests chasuble

Alb- vestment worn by clergymen to cover street garments for ceremony.

Stole- scarf like vestment worn by clergymen

Agnellino- little lamb

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osiris-iii-bc · 9 months

Text

Kids temp (one-shot Copia x reader)

Today is IYRIN day BUT I’ve been on holiday last week and didn’t have time to define the last details of the VI chapter, which is 90% done so it should be a matter of days. In the meantime, I was looking at the pics of Copia from the Impera Box Set and thought how melancholic he looked in there… from there, me ending up writing a one-shot of a blow job was just a totally natural act.

Enjoy, this is my today’s contribution to the community 🌹

****

Rating: Explicit / oral sex / nsfw

Words: 2089 (One shot)

Pairing: Papa Emeritus IV / Female Reader

Summary: You know he is going to have a day full of meetings and he had been working tirelessly on bureaucratic stuff for days. He must be so stressed, but you are there with only a cup of coffee to relieve his spirit. That can not be the only contribution you can offer to make him feel better, right?

AO3 / Wattpad

You knew, by the moment you set the bet with your sisters, that you were going to win it. And you really cannot wait for it to happen.

While walking toward his office, down the Ministry corridors, the only thing you can think of is how to act and what to say when you’ll be in his presence alone. You very rarely have the chance to spend time with him without dozens of people around and you are yet to understand which attitude is best to interact with him.

The coffee cup in the tray you carry trembles along with your unstable grip.

You pause. “Ok, now calm down.” You mentally say to yourself, closing your eyes for a moment, before stepping again through the quiet corridor.

You finally face the guard ghoul outside his office, raising the tray a bit to let him see. “His coffee.” You just say, and the ghoul just nods without a word.

You take a few seconds to knock at the large wooden door, hearing back a far “Come in.”

You do as commanded.

In the shadow, Copia’s silhouette starts to define itself at each step, revealing a middle age - yet very charming - man, hair elegantly slicked back, a decorated papal vestment and a simple skull face paint, that surprisingly does not look very scary.

You know he is going to have a day full of meetings and he had been working tirelessly on bureaucratic stuff for days. He must be so stressed, but you are there with only a cup of coffee to relieve his spirit. That can not be the only contribution you can offer to make him feel better, right?

You take your time to stare at him a bit more. You can read on his face a sense of melancholy and wisdom.

His expressive eyes finally notice you, granting you nothing more than a brief glance.

“Your Unholiness, your coffee…”

He just gestures for you to place it on the desk.

“You can leave it here, dear.” He quickly moves some of the papers he was focused on, to create some space for the cup, don’t bother looking at you. His movements have something clumsy, but you do as instructed, carefully leaving his coffee on the desk.

“…Kids temp.” You add with a little smile, standing there hoping to catch his attention.

“Thank you.” He briefly smiles back at you, nodding as if to give you permission to go.

You were told he was nothing like Terzo, who was hard to have around, making all your sisters nervous and shivering in excitement, especially when he was silent. Copia, on the other hand, had become progressively more quiet and dorky with time, inspiring more of a sense of tenderness, which awoke the desires of the large part of sisters and brothers with daddy issues of the Ministry. You joined right after he was promoted to the Papa, feeling safe and comfortable around him and his gentle ways from the beginning.

You feel you can dare to tease him a bit with no fear of consequences.

“Do you need anything?” He anticipates you, giving you a little hope of interaction.

“Yes, I was very interested in ancient spells lately, I was wondering if you store any interesting books about it here in your office.”

“There are plenty of books about ancient spells in the Ministry library, no need to search here. I’m sure you’ll find something interesting there.” He replies quietly.

“Well, can I see if I find something else of interest, here? Maybe a record, I’d like to hear new music.”

Copia gives you the tiniest smile, before lowering his gaze to the papers again “You are a very curious one, eh?”

You smile in response, roaming around the room, glancing at the titles in the large library and hoping he’s still looking at you.

After moments of silence, you go back to his desk, standing with your hands behind your back.

“What are you working on?”

“Oh, boring stuff… papers, writings. Just Papa stuff…” he briefly smiles at you.

“Can I see?” You say, circling the table to reach his side. Standing next to him, you can feel a slight tension as he moves his papers to hide what he doesn’t want to show to you, but he is far too polite to tell you no.

“I really don’t think you would be interested.”

“But I am.”

“My dear, I really don’t think you’d be interested.” He probably hoped that would end the conversation, but, unfortunately for him, you are one of the rituals favourite for your cheeky manners.

“Can I sit here?” You ask, ignoring his slight irritation “If I am not being too bold…”

“You are being too bold.” He stares at you, and his expression finally softens, probably aware that he’s not going to get rid of you that easily “But I don’t mind having a bit of company.”

You smile happily, taking one of the heavy chairs next to his.

“It must be tiring…” you comment, glancing at all the stuff on the table.

“It is sometimes, but it is my duty. Everybody has one, mine it’s just a bit more… demanding.”

You find it terribly cute how he briefly smiles and looks at you every time he stops talking. It is so comforting, like a dad explaining adult stuff to his child.

“Can I do something to relieve your stress a bit while you work…?”

Now Copia stops what he was doing, looking away from you, a casual point in front of him, as hit by a sudden thought.

“It still surprises me how all you young girls are so willing to lose your time over an old man like me…” his expression hardens a bit, he’s not even looking at you, but somehow he is letting you know he already got your intentions.

“You’re far too modest, I don’t think you do not know how charming you are...” You lean a bit closer, carefully. You got the feeling that any abrupt gesture could unsettle him.

“I find you so interesting… boys my age are quite superficial. I’d much prefer spending time learning from a wise man like you than talking silly things with my peers.” And you really mean that. Aside from that silly bet, you have always really admired him, his gentle and sometimes dorky ways and his overall elusive nature.

There was a time when Copia had been active in the Ministry activities, always present in rituals and masses, way less in orgies. Apparently, he preferred one chosen partner at the time, but he still did enjoy simple pleasures such as plain, quick sex. Then, as he became Papa, something slowly changed. You could imagine how the burden of that responsibility could weigh on one’s shoulders, but you could sense something more in the way his face changed over time.

On stage he can become a totally different person, confident, funny, seductive… but once back in the Ministry, he turns back to his introverted attitude.

You dare to place a hand on his tight like to comfort him. You feel him flinch faintly.

“Sister…”

“I’m doing nothing…” you whisper. You liar.

“Really…”

“Please.” You know that under that melancholy face, there is a man who still enjoys the company of pretty girls, but somehow feels now inappropriate to indulge in that kind of behaviour.

“I’ve been dreaming of you for so long…” you don’t even bother masking your true intentions while you whisper those words dangerously close to his face. He closes his eyes as if expecting that kind of confession. But he stays silent.

He turns to you, looking at your eyes and lips “I’m… really busy, sister.”

“Then just pause a bit.” You simply reply, caressing his face, tenderly.

Finally, he leans closer to you, showing on his face contrasting feelings, but unable to resist the excitement.

He finally kisses you, and what you meant it to be a moment of passion, turns out to be a tender, cautious contact.

He releases a nervous sigh as you deepen the kiss. You feel his tongue first timidly, but then passion ignites inside of him and he doesn’t hold back anymore. His kisses are slow and soft, and his hand leans for your face, caressing your cheek while your lips touch.

You dare to let a hand slide down from his leg to the groin, but he intercepts it. He looks at you, almost with anger, tilting his head to look into your eyes with a silent “Please, don’t.” But you smile slily at him, keeping eye contact as you place your other hand on his to release the grip.

His weak opposition can do nothing against your deep kisses. You’ve been there long enough to master every persuasion technique, sharpening your sex talents. Orgies and sex with siblings and cardinals are part of your routine, you really needed something unusual to revamp your senses.

You didn’t know Copia had noticed you long ago, even before you became of age, but didn’t dare make any comment or let you get any hint of his interest.

In the last few years, he had started to prefer partners his age or only slightly younger, appreciating the calm intercourse he could share with more mature partners, but he also still enjoyed the freshness that young individuals could bring to his long days, from time to time.

His respectful ways and shy nature were something unusual in the Ministry… something that violently turned you on.

You move your hand slowly and steadily, adoring the sensation of his body getting harder under your touch. He moans softly, his hand firmly on the back of your head to keep you close. You kiss again and again while he starts moving his hips along with your strokes. As your hand moves on his length, he lets go of a deep sight, resting in the chair seatback, his head leaning back.

You reach his exposed neck, kissing it passionately, inhaling his cologne.

To his surprise, you stand up, only to get down again, this time on your knees, adjusting between his legs.

“Oh cazzo…”* You hear him whisper.

You finally free his cock from the voluminous robe, caressing it a bit more to have it fully prepared for you; then, you close your eyes as you take it all in your mouth with no hesitation, taking your time to taste all of it. You think about the last words you shared with your sisters when setting the bet, “I really want to know what he tastes like.” one of them had said. Before you, she had failed a few days prior, and you cannot wait to go back to them and describe every detail of his cock and how good it tasted.

Copia sights in relief, letting himself go on the chair. He places a hand on your head to guide your rhythm; you can’t resist lifting the gaze, finding his eyes already on you. Any grain of opposition disappeared from his face, the only expression you can detect is pure bliss while you work on his cock with your tongue and lips.

“Damn you little girl…” he manages to mourn through his broken breath.

You alternate fast, deep moves with slow and delicate licks, locking eyes with him whenever you can.

You smile around his cock when his hand pushes you down, letting you swallow all of him to the base. He groans deeply, pushing into you with light thrusts.

“Yes…” you hear “yes…”. And in a matter of minutes, you feel his body tense and his grip on your hair harden to the point it starts to hurt, but you don’t mind. He’s coming into your mouth, not bothering to move your head away. He knows how experienced you are at swallowing; Voices run fast through the Clergy.

You wait for him to empty, receiving everything he has to give to you.

He looks at you finally rise your head, touching your mouth with your fingers to recoup the last drops of his sperm.

He relaxes his entire body on the chair, eyes closed in what seems both enjoyment and regret mixed together.

“Go now, please.” He simply says, adjusting his robe again, breath still heavy for the orgasm.

“I’m sorry for your coffee, it must be cold now…” you say, with the most innocent tone. He glances at you, suddenly remembering that you came in just for the coffee “Maybe I can bring you another one…?”

****

*”Oh shit…”

#ghost band #papa emeritus iv #papa copia #the band ghost fanfiction #always seduce the old man #sister of sin #copia x reader #the band ghost #copia my beloved

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