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marrasquutamo · 5 days ago

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Paper Cuts

You've been friends with Copia for what feels like an eternity. With him becoming Papa things have changed and you're not sure where your relationship is going.

ships: Papa Emeritus IV/Reader

word count: 3.6k

AO3

Absolute power corrupts absolutely.

Isn't that what they say? You would have disagreed just a few months ago; said that power reveals, not corrupts. But just thinking that this was always who Copia truly was makes you feel nauseous.

You had thought you knew this man, your friend, and maybe that was the truth. You knew Cardinal Copia: silly, awkward and so incredibly kind. But there was no Cardinal Copia anymore, was there?

Now there was only Papa Emeritus IV.

And this man you did not know. Didn't even have the chance to get to know him. You were there when he ascended, your heart bursting with joy for your friend. You embraced after, his papal paint nearly staining your clothes as he buried his face in your neck, his arms wrapped around you tightly. You felt ecstatic, your heart pounding a mile a minute. When you pulled back and looked into his mismatched eyes you thought you saw something.

Something more than his joy over becoming Papa, something more than the happiness of sharing this moment with you, with a friend. He was breathing in deeply, his pupils dilating as his face came so much closer to yours, your heart nearly beating out of your chest. Until a ghoul came to take him away and the spell was broken.

And that was the last time you saw him.

Well, not quite.

You still saw him around the Ministry grounds. For all intents and purposes he behaved like he always had, still caring about the Congregation, trying to help each Sibling of Sin no matter how small their issue. He just didn’t approach you anymore.

There was one other small difference too. It’s how everyone else reacted to him now. As Cardinal only few of the Congregation actually took him seriously even as the right hand man to Papa Nihil and Sister Imperator and face of the Ghost Project. Now that he was Papa though, they flocked to him like wasps to a piece of pastry. He revelled in the sudden burst of attention. He looked just like he did on stage when the crowds cheered for him, screamed for him, lusted after him. In a way it was not that different to how the ritual goers worshiped him. And he deserved the praise, the adoration, of course he did. You knew just how much Copia gave to the church without expecting anything back. And now he got his reward.

It just hurt that along the way he seemed to have forgotten all about you. It stung. At first you thought it was temporary so you gave him time to adjust to how things were, now that he was Papa.

But instead of your usual lunch breaks near Papa Primo's garden or your quiet talks in the library you stayed alone and only saw Copia in the distance. He on the other hand never seemed to be alone. If he wasn't guarded by his Ghouls he was being hounded by Siblings.

Sometimes you even saw him lead a Sibling into his room or a dark corner of which there are many in these ancient halls.

You've successfully swallowed down the bitter envy following those encounters so far. But each time it happened, each time his hand supported their lower back (often exploring even lower) as he led the chosen Sibling to a more private area, the taste of bile became stronger. You didn't know how much more you could take; how much your heart could take.

Especially since you never found the courage to confess the only secret you ever had from him. That while Copia was your best friend you couldn't help but develop romantic feelings for him.

At this point you’ll take that secret to your grave and down into hell itself.

The last shred of what remained of your beloved Cardinal was purged when he returned from tour with a whole new face. A ‘two for one’ special for a cosmetic surgery Copia and Sister Imperator had scheduled at some point.

It should have made things easier since now he didn't even look like your old friend anymore. But the universe was cruel and looking at this new face, this Papa, made the loss of your Cardinal even more profound.

So you avoided him in turn. It wasn't too difficult after all between the tours and the usual hubbub of the Ministry you’ve had an easy time slinking away unnoticed should Copia be close.

You're pretty sure he never even noticed your absence since he started avoiding you first.

You sit near the gardens in a small alcove on the outside walls of the Ministry, hidden away from the hustle and bustle of your Siblings of Sin. It’s peaceful here. There are a few crows cawing at each other over the seeds left out for them by one of Papa Primo’s ghouls.

Even though his ghouls are some of the eldest, they have always felt the least intimidating to you, more mellow and calm like the man who summoned them (though he did not start out like that).

Papa Secondo’s ghouls on the other hand? They are terrifying.

Thankfully you don’t interact with them too often. The stories you’ve heard about them make you stay clear whenever they are roaming the Ministry.

You still have some time before you have to get back to your duties so you try to enjoy nature and relax. You lean back and close your eyes, the sun’s rays warming your face.

“Are you still sulking?”

You sigh and roll your eyes, not gracing the Ghoul who decided to interrupt your free time with a look.

“I am not sulking, Special.”

“You know you have every right to sulk, right? Especially since Papa, heh, sucks now.”

“He doesn't…,” you trail off with a groan and open your eyes, giving Special an annoyed look, “Could we not talk about His Dark Excellency right now? I am trying to enjoy my break and you're standing in my sun.”

“Oh so you don't want the latest tour gossip?”

You can't see his face under the mask but you can hear his smirk clear as day. Gritting your teeth you scooch over and let him sit down next to you.

“So I don't have an exact number since Swiss and Aurora keep disagreeing but Papa either invited sixteen or sixty different ritual goers backstage,” he begins and you flinch. Your initial shock turns into astonishment.

“Sixty?! How? I mean that's-”

“His Dark Excellency is truly gifted with supernatural stamina. And as I have been told by the ritual Ghouls: their performances really get the blood pumping.”

You swear you can hear Special wiggle his eyebrows.

“Alright. So he fucks around a lot. Big deal. That's-,” you take a deep breath, trying to convince yourself that you actually mean your words, “That's not a big deal. To me. I don't care. He can fuck whoever and how many people he wants to.”

“But you’d rather he fucked you,” Special interrupts you in a matter of fact tone.

“Yes but-”

You stop yourself but not in time to hide your slip up. Still your hand reaches up to cover your mouth, eyes open wide.

“Oh please, you’re not subtle. Most of the Ghouls have smelled your crush on him years ago.”

Smelled?!

He has to be joking. Special’s humor has always been odd but this?

You're staring at him, horror evident on your face as he just looks back at you blankly.

“So,” he starts, shuffling closer, almost conspiratorially, “What are you going to do now?”

What were you supposed to do? You can't just go over to the leader of your goddamn Congregation who used to be your best friend you had been crushing on for ages and just- what? Tell him?

I am so sorry to interrupt, Your Dark Excellency, but would you mind dicking me down once so I can get over my year long crush on you and get back to serving Our Dark Lord? No? Of course. I’ll go walk into the woods never to return now.

Marvelous.

“Get over this and get back to work,” you answer instead. The ghoul beside you rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “You two really found each other. You're both stubborn and so incredibly stupid.”

You just look at him, offended, and get up from your seat. “I appreciate your insight, Special,” you try to keep your words as diplomatically as possible, “But sincerely: fuck you.” And fail.

The ghoul reacts by breaking out into a fit of giggles, his mask wobbling precariously on his face, threatening to fall off. You wave him off and make your way to your place of work: the library.

Working at a satanic library is not as exciting as it may sound. It was pretty much your standard library albeit with much more ancient (and potentially dangerous depending on who you ask) stock.

Imagining a church-owned library with half their books being different editions of the Anarchist’s Cookbook would get you at least halfway to picturing the Ministry Library.

Both Ghouls and Siblings of Sin alike work to keep the space tidy, the books organized and the atmosphere quiet and ideal for the studying of ancient tombs. Of course there are some Ghouls and Siblings who use the dark spaces between the bookshelves for other purposes. As long as they are being quiet, a bit of fun in a semi public space is not discouraged by the Ministry. It is expected to clean up after yourself though. Nobody wants to clean the carpets of stranger fluids.

You're organizing your favorite section deep inside the library which few people tend to visit (for knowledge or thrists) when you pick up excited whispers from further towards the entrance to the library. With a deep breath you steel yourself, squaring your shoulders and getting ready to tell people off for being too loud and disrespectful towards the other patrons of the library.

As you march towards the noise, head held high, you round a corner and are confronted with the source of the ruckus. Towering above that small crowd of Siblings, not quite by height but through sheer presence, is none other than Papa Emeritus IV himself.

You're about to turn on your heel to vanish between the bookshelves when your eyes meet. It's like you're frozen in place, his gaze pinning you down like pins in a butterfly’s wings. Panic rises up in your chest mixed by an odd, familiar warmth.

How you’ve missed him.

You didn't expect him to be back already. Weren't they still on tour? Are they taking a break? Maybe you should have kept a better track of the tour schedule.

The other Siblings are now turning their heads towards you, confused by Papa's sudden silence. You can't tell what he thinks, an indecipherable expression on his face, and you hate it. Before Copia was easy to read, wearing his heart on his sleeve and when he didn't he would tell you what was going on inside his head. Now you are lost.

You can feel your cheeks heat up with embarrassment, your heart pounding a mile a minute. His nostrils flare, his mouth opens just enough for the tip of his tongue to swipe over his lips. It's a mesmerizing sight and for a moment you forget everything that has happened or where you are. His eyes suddenly seem darker, like a black hole sucking you in and you can't look away and you can't breathe and you-

Suddenly he flinches, his eyes leaving yours, breaking the spell, and you feel like you can breathe again.

You clear your throat awkwardly before you address the crowd. “I am sorry to interrupt but I want to remind you all that this is a library and to be mindful of the others using this space to read and learn in peace,” you tell them, trying to keep your voice gentle yet firm, your eyes drifting over the crowd but avoiding Copia.

Either not understanding your cues or simply ignoring them, Papa steps forward between the Siblings and gives you a sheepish smile. “My apologies for the disruption. It was my fault, my dearest.”

He gives you a short bow of the head before turning around with a flourish. “Now, my dear Siblings. You should get back to your duties. Papa will tell you all about the tour at dinner later.”

With only mild disgruntlement the crowd disperses leaving only you and Copia.

Well, fuck.

You stand there awkwardly, suddenly feeling so small next to Copia- no, Papa in his papal robes and paint. When no excuses come to mind you’re about to simply walk away without a word but you stop in your tracks when he says your name. It sounds so strange yet familiar from his lips.

You turn back to face him. “How can I help you, Papa?” you ask, trying your best to sound neutral. Now that you are alone his face twists into a worried pout. He takes a step forward, his robes flowing elegantly behind him with the movement. He leans forward almost conspiratorially. “May we talk somewhere private?” he asks in hushed tones. You swear you can feel his breath on your skin and it makes your heart race again.

“O-Of course, Your Dark Excellency.”

You stammer before you motion him to follow you and turn around. You quickly lead him deeper into the library right where you had left your work.

You're nervous so you pick up a book that you still have to sort into the right shelf to occupy your hands with. Anxiously you wait for Copia to talk, your fingers skimming over the pages.

“I wanted to apologize,” he starts, “For not being around much lately.”

Your heart aches but you grit your teeth.

“You're Papa now. You are a busy man. It is only natural for other things to fall by the wayside.”

“No,” he responds, his voice turning frantic, “It's not. Not when it’s-”

You turn your head and look into his eyes. He looks almost manic, like whatever he wanted to say has haunted him for a while.

“Copia,” you whisper his name like it's a secret, “It’s alright. I understand.” Your fingers slide over the spine of the book in your hands, “I am- I was hurt. But I understand.”

All you want is for things to get back to how they were. But they can't. Not with how you feel and not with who he is now.

Anything close to back then would have to suffice.

“I never wanted to hurt you,” he responds quickly, his words filled with regret, “It's- There is so much that comes with being Papa that I didn't know and it's all so cool but also strange and-” He’s stumbling over his words, not rehearsed but a flood of thoughts breaking over him. “And there is so much I can't tell you but I want to so much but Sister Imperator said I couldn't and-”

You run your fingers over the fore edge, the pages of the book sliding over your fingertips until a sharp pain makes you flinch. The book falls from your hands and you let out a curse. As you look down on your hands you see a small paper cut on your pointer finger, a small drop of blood pooling at the wound.

“And you…,” Copia gasps, his nostrils flaring again, “You smell delicious.”

You blink, confusion pulling you out of your shock. You look at Copia and the sight makes you freeze. His pupils are dilated, eyes fixated on the drop of blood now slowly running down your finger. He stalks towards you, slowly, with purpose. His lips part and his tongue runs over them again. Peaking out are two sharp fangs where normal, human, canines should be.

You take a step back, alarmed and Copia flinches as if burned. “I'm so sorry,” he gasps, “You weren't supposed to see me like this.”

“What happened to you?”

You've seen countless movies and read just as many fantasy books - the signs are all there. And yet there is a part of you that needs him to say it out loud, to explain what turned him into this. Into a vampire of all things.

He chuckles mirthlessly. “Ah you see, becoming Papa is not just a spiritual ascension. It is a quite physical one too,” he explains with labored breath. Copia looks tortured, wanting to get closer, drawn in by the scent of your blood, and wanting to run away and hide in fear of scaring you.

“Apparently I am, heh, a bit too sensitive in my new senses,” he explains further, “I needed to…needed to stay away. So I wouldn't do something I would regret.”

You frown and take a step towards him. “And what would that be?” His body is shaking under the strain but he forces himself to stay still. “You smell so good,” he gasps, “And your blood smells even sweeter.”

You can feel your face flush, the deep rumble of his voice making your body feel hot. He whimpers, his eyes cast low and when you follow his gaze you see blood dripping from your finger onto the carpet.

“Do you…,” your words drift off as you watch him lick his lips again, panting at your blood like a hunting dog, “Do you want a taste?”

Copia chokes on a groan, his eyes flickering up to your face, and now he truly looks like a puppy begging for scraps. “Can I? Just a drop. Maybe two? Or three?”

“Under one condition,” you hold your bleeding hand away from him and he looks at it like a lover lost at sea, “Why did you avoid me? Because I ‘smell good’?” You grimace, still hurt by the sudden loss of your best friend and crush. “Yet making out with the other Siblings, with fans or even Ghouls is not an issue.”

He drops to his knees, the position of a pious worshipper. “I made a mistake. I should have told you. But-,” his gaze switches from your hand to your face again, “You mean the world to me, tesoro. But I am a coward.”

You reach out to him, your fingertips red with blood. He whimpers, his mouth hanging open in anticipation.

You know what he means to say. The same thing you were too scared to tell him for what feels like ages now.

“We both are, Copia.”

You caress his face with your fingertips, red staining his black and white papal paint.

“We will talk about this. In depth. Because I am not letting you avoid me again. And I won't avoid you any longer,” you explain as your fingers hover right over his lips, “Will you promise me that?”

His eyes grow wide, realization dawning. Copia nods fiercely. “Yes. Yes. We will talk. I won't run. I promise.”

“Then you can have a taste,” you whisper seductively.

Tentatively, like he is scared you would turn into a cloud of smoke once he touches you, he sticks his tongue out. Gently he lavishes your finger with his tongue, licking and prodding at the paper cut. A low moan rumbles inside his chest, the taste of your blood making his head spin.

Gently he sucks on your finger, trying to get more of your life essence to spill into his mouth. Copia’s moans make heat curl in your stomach and the sight of your Papa on his knees making your head feel dizzy.

With one last lick and a sharp pop he pulls off of your finger, his eyes big and glassy as he stares up at you like you’re sent by Lucifer himself; like you are temptation personified.

“That was…,” you swallow hard, not finishing your sentence. Not knowing how to.

“More?” he asks, his voice small and pleading. Copia licks his lips again, eager to taste more of you. But you shake your head.

“I said you’d only get a taste. Just one.”

“Please,” he begs, rubbing his cheek against your hand, “Just one more taste. One more.” His lips graze over the inside of your wrist and you almost falter.

You cup his cheek and lean forward. “One more taste,” you agree and press your lips against his. Copia moans into your mouth, eagerly reciprocating the kiss. You can taste your own blood on his tongue, metallic and strange. But you pay it no mind, focused on the feeling of his mouth on yours, the slick slide of your tongues and the sudden sharp pain of his fangs cutting into your lip. He deepens the kiss, sucking on your bleeding lower lip, cherishing the gift of your blood.

Your head is spinning when you finally part, gasping for air. Copia’s paints are smudged, his lips bare and bloody. You're sure you don't look much different. You can't help but grin at how surreal this all feels and yet your heart has never felt lighter.

“Thank you,” he pants, gazing at you like you hung the sun, moon and stars in the sky. He clears his throat awkwardly. “I, eh, wanted to confess to you much more romantically. Candle light and dinner, you know?”

Slowly he stands up and reaches for your hands. “Will you forgive this silly man?”

Your smile shines bright as you nod. “Of course, if you forgive me too?”

“Nothing to forgive, tesoro,” he replies, absolving you of any guilt with just four words, “The fault lies with me. And my new, heh, nocturnal tendencies.”

“We’ll figure this out. Together.”

“Hmmm,” Copia hums, agreeing, his lips curling into a loving smile, “Together.”

#asdfghjkl #this is so good i love it #papa emeritus iv #ghost (band)#fanfiction

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