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jaysflix · 2 years ago

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Unrequited (I-IV)

Chapter I, Chapter II, Chapter III, 𖤐 Chapter IV

Part 1, Chapter 4 𖤐 The Facade of Truth; Illumination Genre: Romance, drama/angst Pairing(s): Terzo/Reader, Copia/Reader Chapter Synopsis: Leaving the cell only to return to the grief of it, broken just as you were before.

Warnings: violence, blood

1.6k words

Leaving the room was a risk. You were hesitant to step out of the boundary that protected you indefinitely. Terzo’s sanctuary kept you from facing the Cardinal, saving you from more heartbreak than you could endure. His reaction would be unpredictable. Remembering the moment he heard from you that you were to be married, the way he crumpled in front of you, kneeling with the utmost dismay, the possibility of seeing it for a second time was insufferable. Being with him through the years gave you time to understand him almost completely, yet you never saw him become so shattered in seconds. Terzo stood in the doorway before you, fatigue darkening the paint around the eyes. They’d gotten gentler once they sensed your hesitation, no shroud of annoyance left to convey.

You hated that. You hated how he always managed to understand your immense suffering and the way he let you accustom to the strange, sudden circumstances at your own pace because it reminded you of Copia. The generosity of his mind and soul were the things you adored of your Cardinal. Seeing how Terzo manages to completely mirror the same patience meant significantly to you, but a tinge of fear lingered in the stream to your heart.

It's funny, the amount of anxiety should be able to kill you, yet your body won’t give up. The chance that your limbs hold much more power than your mind causes a more willing behavior than you’d ever experience. Your legs scream for you to run, and it's the mind that keeps you tied down, frozen in your spot. Averting your eyes to meet the delicate cloth fitted perfectly on his fingers, you accepted the help. He lured you forward, over the invisible barrier trapping you from fresh air. You let your body loose just this once until you were chest to chest, heart to heart with Terzo. The end of his lips tugged upward faintly.

The beat of his heart helped you realize that everything that’s happened up to this point was in fact, not a dream. As terrifying as the feeling weighed on you, the only choice you had was to accept it for what it was.

“Finding the Cardinal should be no problem.” His voice ripped you from fantasy. Averting your eyes to meet his, they were closer than you’d remembered them before. Though his heterochromia was most distinguished, many assume the blinding white was the first eye anyone noticed. They would be wrong. For you, it was the opposite. The dominant birthmark, a reminder of the Emeritus line, shrivels when you lose yourself to his darker one. Shivers ran across your spine while his fingers lay on your waist, interrupting your train of thought.

The two of you walked out to the courtyard together, arms intertwined, a trickery to the public when truth be told, it was to keep you from fueling your reluctance. The gesture induced a powerful notion, in himself and of those who traveled past. You felt it too, how Terzo was faced with the obligation to be your security. Silent pride glowed in his aura like he was meant for this role. Jealous looks thrown at you diminished because of his strong, chest-puffed posture. He lived for the heroic role with one hell of an audience. So, the attention spurred on you continued to promote his burning conceit.

Cardinal Copia wished for judgment day to inch closer. The world looked against him, even the demons did not dare touch on the subject. He’d been neglecting work, drowning in the darkness of his room. He hadn’t had a meal yet, and despite his belly’s constant whine, he did not feel like eating. A letter was sent to his room that morning, expressing how the inconsistency was unacceptable, and if he isn’t able to complete the papers by the end of the week, he’d be sent away. Not literally meaning, as lots of people took it. No, being sent away meant being sent to the grave. Copia, at first, didn’t mind that plan, but he’d refused to give up.

He donned his black cassock again, aimlessly sauntering around the courtyard. The blinding rays of sun infected the church, spreading delight on the faces of deacons. Though the fabrics matched, their moods certainly contrasted. They, of course residing in a satanic church, wore opposite colors of a typical roman-catholic priest. The Cardinal favored the color in the moment of his despair but seeing their happiness only released an anger he’d never experienced.

Typically, the sisters wore makeup according to their admired papa, or patterns of their own to fit their individual personalities. A lot of them, however, didn’t want to wake up any earlier to put in the effort of the face paint. It was nice to see them all express themselves. Curiosity struck Copia from time to time, wondering how the sisters looked without it. Ironic considering he never seemed to remove his makeup either. Most of what he saw throughout the halls was the resemblance to Terzo. Every corner he turned and through every walkway he entered, Terzo seemed to haunt him. It took almost everything in him not to argue or highlight the indecent acts he committed against him.

There was a hint of denial deep within his core and he stayed up at night praying the truth would be concealed no matter what it was. He expressed his worry to you once, and as silly as it sounded, you tried your best to ignore it. Naturally, Copia considered the feeling to be an overreaction. Though in instances, more than once, the way Terzo eyed you like candy; a treat to snuff out his cravings. From the start, Terzo treated you with respect as he did to everyone regardless of whether they returned the attitude. Then, there would be little pecks on your hands, eventually transitioning to your cheeks, inching closer to your lips. He rarely saw you, yet those actions spoke for themselves. Copia began to distrust his lifelong friend. Even more so now.

A breathless whisper, carried by the smallest morning breeze called to him from his dark world and ordered him to stop. He became ice cold, convincing himself that it was merely a delusion. He held his head, feeling the familiarity of weight dropping in his stomach, pushing the vile closer to the roof of his mouth. He swallowed hard, hand shaking violently as he removed it from its place.

It’s a dream, he told himself.

None of what’s happening is real.

Until the crash of your body against his, the thoughts dispersed. Copia’s once cold figure warmed in the embrace. He felt your fingers claw at his back, gripping at his clothes to ensure he wouldn’t fall away because losing him for a second time was not an outcome you will live to take. You matched his shakiness, sobbing into him and reciting his name like a prayer. The pressure of your nails was enough to bruise him. Your arms began to ache from the tight hook Copia was admitted into. It wasn’t until you calmed down that you realized he hadn’t moved once.

You pulled away, confusion evident in your hesitance. His head bowed down, avoiding any kind of contact. Instead of those kind eyes you pined for, you were met with the biretta, placed neatly on top of his unkempt hair. The vicious black paint, he knew, would betray him if he were to let any source of sadness overwhelm him. So he kept his head facing the floor. Warm hands made way to his chin, easing him up only for him to breathe in sharp, almost frustratedly. Still shying from your gaze, he removed your touch from his face, eyes wandering rapidly. He whispered curses, knowing you noticed the obvious glisten of tears breaking the surface,

“What’s wrong?” You asked in a whisper, feeling the lump of fear sneak its way up your throat.

Just when he finally looked at you, he paused, noticing the figure traveling with you lurk from behind. In an instant, his vibrations became violent. The quiver of his anger was so sudden, your tears spilled again in fright.

Terzo was close enough for Copia to grab a fistful of his clothes, shaking him to the ground. The biretta fell away as they tussled. Terzo resisted the strength of him, aiming for Copia’s neck to throw him back. The Cardinal was fuming. Hate scorched his insides and your skin burned as you held him from going any further. Pulling Copia to his feet, he snatched himself away from you and dived at Terzo, throwing a powerful fist, drawing blood. You yelped, hearing the crack of bone. Terzo’s hand darted to cover his nose,

“Merda!” He shouted, red running down to his lips. Copia wasn’t close to finishing what he’d begun, but if it weren’t for you, he’d have Terzo begging for his life about now.

“What is wrong with you?” You yelled at him, unable to contain the shakiness of your voice. He stayed silent, heaving as he watched you rush to Terzo’s side, peeling away his stained gloves to see the damage. The thick of his blood kept dripping uncontrollably.

Copia noticed the stinging feel of his neck, and his hands never stopped shaking. Blood was also soaked on his gloves, almost polishing the leather. Jealousy slowly replaced his anger, and he should’ve felt ashamed of his actions, but he didn’t.

You were almost too shocked to speak or even look at him. You never imagined he would do such a thing yet here you were cleaning his mess with the sleeves of your habit. It was normal to feel this way, but never to act upon it in such a manner. It was unlike him.

Notes: Short chapter, I know. Just wanna apologize for the wait on this one, I know it's extremely underwhelming but I knew if I didn't post it now then I'd never finish. I'm also gonna try to upload this on ao3 so I'll provide links when possible.

#cardinal copia #popia copia #papa emeritus x reader #papa emeritus iii x reader #papa emeritus iv #papa emeritus iii #papa emeritus iv x reader #cardinal copia x reader #copia x reader #the band ghost #ghost bc #ghost the band #papa emeritus iii terzo #terzo x reader #papa emeritus 3 #papa terzo #papa copia #papa emeritus 4

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jaysflix · 2 years ago

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Blind

Pairing: Papa Emeritus III / Reader (gn) Genre: angst, fluff Warnings: mentions of death. Also, I don't speak Latin, so forgive me for the rough translations.

Oh, so many ideas for drabbles. I'm getting back on track this time I promise. Chapter 4 of my series is in the works but in the meantime, my account needs a little reviving, take this Terzo drabble I've had in my mind for a bit.

“He represents this frustrated old guy who hates everyone, especially himself. But despite his wounds and his darkness, he has a sense of humor and is endearing, like most of my heroes. The late actor Christopher Lee was an inspiration to me. In many ways, he is Papa.” (Metallian 7/2015) (x)

1.7k words

Through the lens of the world, many would see the utter disgust ripping from the seams. Thread, tinged red with passion and a wave of fuming anger, began to tear, unable to safely retain his truth. It could only hold back so much, he was close to tipping toward the breaking point. After all these years, you'd think he'd at least open the gates, sharing his frustration with a tussle. No, he was trained better than that. Living in constant need of praise from his deadbeat father while trying to uphold the terrifying role of the papacy molded the mind to take whatever criticism was handed to him. He would no longer argue, for it proved to be useless in the past.

So, there he sat, his ears actively shunning every grim word spewing from his father's mouth, the presence of his brothers not helping his case. They said nothing, faces solemn and gazing to the floor. They've all learned their lesson when it came to barking back. It's hard not to when Nihil clearly doesn't know what he raised if he raised them at all. Nihil was an open book; air-headed as they come, narrow-minded, and worst of all, regardless of his power, he's just a submissive toy to his lover, whom he remained unfaithful to and still expects something in return for his hard work. What a sad, old fart.

Well, like it was any of Terzo's business anyway. He'd much rather see his own father suffer in the hands of Sister Imperator, who was much more present in his earlier years than he ever was. She was the one to encourage Terzo to pursue the "Papa-Path" (as he referred it to) like he had a choice. Nevertheless, he would've declined upfront if he had one.

The room had gotten silent as Nihil finished his unnecessary rant, and all Terzo could do was sit there and take it. He felt a strand of thread stretch thinner, bound to break. Slowly he breathed in, easing the enhanced discomfort of his mind. There was a slight ringing in his ear, substituting Nihil’s booming voice. Terzo peered up through his brows, fingers placed on his temple to further show his disinterest. His brothers awaited a response, though they were more invested than he ever was. Instead, he dropped his hand, hoisting himself up from the wingback.

Nihil and Terzo were closer in height as the old man's back curled toward the grave. Give a few years and he'd be with the rest of the family underground, lost in the dark halls of sacred catacombs. His mind cursed him, a sense of relief at the thought.

He glanced over to his eldest brother, who always wore a somber expression for as long as he could remember. Primo, being the first, had to experience the burden of becoming Papa as soon as he could think. At first, the idea of holding so much power to influence others felt, ironically, like a blessing. Until he'd gotten older, he realized and regretted being delivered to the blackened hands of his father. Then, he was burdened, not once, but twice more as Secondo and Terzo arrived around the same time. Primo raised his brothers involuntarily. He wanted them to be better than Nihil, and the rest of the clergy.

Terzo loved him dearly for the tender memories, and it pained him to know that Primo wanted more than to be Papa.

As for the middle child, who knows what he really wanted? Secondo kept to himself most days. He was a studious man before his reign, fishing for attention from anyone of a higher status. Then, during his time, he only lasted a few years after dedicating most of his life to fully understanding the responsibility of being Papa. Not only that, but he wished to share his love with the world.

That left Terzo, who was quite troubled for some time before becoming a puppet. There was nothing left for him now. His time is coming to an end. No fights. Just acceptance.

His brothers glanced back over at him, along with his father. Terzo said nothing, robes draping delicately over his legs, getting caught in the wind with every step forward and out of the conference room.

The thread continued to stretch thinner as he made way through the familiar corridors. He'd taken a longer route back to his room, traveling through the silent garden Primo would spend the rest of his days in. He always appreciated beautiful things. Terzo copied him, deciding he too would cherish the grace of well-kept flowers. Even as the days grew colder, the petals managed to bloom brightly.

Centered in the whimsical garden, down the short flight of stairs, an osier surrounded itself with a ring of stone, beckoning Terzo to sit underneath its bowing arms. He found the right space to rest on, thoughts quickly rushing to his head in the silence of the night. He shuddered thinking of the opportunities that could've been out there for him if his blood wasn't damned.

The early autumn breeze slipped through the hedges, earning a ripple of bustling leaves which calmed the tightened nerves. It was a drastic change in setting; from rising tensions to a quiet life of nature. However, he was too into his stirring thoughts to notice another troubled neighbor wandering behind where he sat. Until he heard the dragging of feet against the graveled floor, his head whipped over his shoulder. There was a sign of embarrassment through his words,

"I didn't realize this place was occupied. I will go then." You wanted to laugh at his proper behavior. It was very unseen when you were with him. He hadn't registered that the presence was familiar because the moon had been shielding itself. He turned again, jumping ever so slightly upon realization.

He breathed out heavily, "Oh, gratias Satanas." Terzo pinched his nose, frustrated, yet relieved. That's when you laughed.

"Is all well, Papa?" He scoffed.

"I wish I could say it was." You walked over, sitting closely at his side, bringing a hand to rub softly across his shoulder blades.

"Do tell. It's beneficial to let these bottled feelings loose." Terzo looked at you, straightening his posture to seem more collected, though you could tell he was not. He looked into your soft eyes, so full of passion, so alive, and so very kind. There was never a moment where he doubted his love for you, and he wanted so badly to live in your arms forever, forgetting all his responsibilities and the rest of the world who expected too much from him.

You felt his eyes look up and down rapidly at your lips. Taking his hand with a small, reassuring squeeze, you kissed him. It was a short one, light in the way he hated. Terzo desired to kiss you heavily, letting you feel his frustration with the burning heat of his body merged against yours. But you were persistent, wanting to hear his words in order to help him truly overcome his worries. Terzo, when upset, could never formulate the right sentences.

"Papa, I know it's hard." You pecked him again, this time holding on a little longer. He sighed into it, hands darting to your cheeks so you wouldn't break away. He pressed hard, trying so desperately to let the moment last. He kissed you again and again in the same spot, the thread losing control only to snap. Terzo's tears didn't make it past his lashes as he blinked them away. It hurt to feel him so shut off, each kiss laced with a sadness you've never felt before. He was so tired of everything. His lips finally pulled from yours, leaning against your forehead as his hands rested where they were.

You caressed his wrists,

"Please. What is wrong?"

"I'm afraid." He confessed.

"Of what?" Everything, he wanted to answer. There was a lot to be afraid of, but what struck his heart was the fear of leaving this world with no legacy left behind for people to remember him by.

Being forgotten.

"My work. It all means nothing. I am nothing." His hands missed the warmth of you when they returned to his lap.

The confession dropped like a bomb. Questions filled the silence in the air. For how long did he feel like this? How did this happen? Why does he think this way? I am nothing. His words repeated in your mind, shattering your soul.

You protested,

"Oh Papa, that's not possible."

"I don't believe that."

"But it's true!" He stifled a sarcastic laugh. You spaced out in thought, thinking of a way to make him see. You grabbed for his hands,

"Then, we'll switch eyes."

"What?"

"Have you got a spoon?"

"A spoon?" You knew it was a silly thing to suggest, and of course, it was all jokes, but you wanted to say something that will at least bring his mood up from the pits of his stomach.

Nodding, you told him your plan.

“Yes, a spoon to scoop our eyes from the sockets. We can trade them." He laughed. It was working.

"Then what?" You smiled,

"You'll wear mine, so you can see that you are worth more than anything in this world. You mean so much to everyone who ever crossed your path."

“And what about mine?”

The wind ruffled the leaves again. September's wind could not be mistaken for October's. It was much gentler, a soothing introduction for the wilting that was to come. Colors die as the months move on before new life is reborn in April when rain is gifted across the land.

Terzo felt the ticking strike in his eyes. Sand drained to the bottom of the bulb hanging over his head. Time was nearing to an end.

“I’ll get rid of them.” The answer got caught in your throat. He’d warned you about his last moments so long ago. At first, it was too far in the future to even consider. Now, you felt the reaper crawl closer.

“But then you won’t be able to see.”

“You see yourself as nothing. I’d rather succumb to the void than wear your eyes, because at least I’ll know you’ll be here, as something.”

As silly as this conversation had ended, Terzo felt lucky. Even in his grave, the fear was replaced with peace. You'd remember him always, not by his role, but by the sputters of white in the sky and the cold wind in the garden, where you offered every part of your warmth that would stay in his still heart forever.

#papa emeritus iii x reader #papa emeritus iii #papa emeritus x reader #papa 3 #papa terzo #papa emeritus iii terzo #ghost bc #the band ghost #ghost the band #terzo x reader #terzo emeritus

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jaysflix · 2 years ago

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Hello. I'm sorry to bother you, just want to know. Are you okay with the requests now?

Hi! Right now they're closed temporarily, I'm so sorry! I'll open them again once I get back on track. Right now there are a lot of things on my plate with education, work, and other projects. I've also been figuring out how I want to end part 1 of my series and how I'm going to start my new one. God, there are so many ideas fueling my brain right now I wish I could duplicate myself and get it all done.

So far I have ideas for a ghoul (I'm thinking Rain but it may change, we'll see) x reader series. Still don't know if I want it to be a romantic thing or more of a platonic relationship. When I actually plan the plot that will determine it.

I've also been watching The Vampire Diaries because, of course, as a Twilight fan, I can never get enough vampire brainrot 🙂 so maybe a Dracopia series? Maybe even Terzo because he'd be so perfect as a dead-living thing. Definitely want to do a series with just Terzo. As for the other Papa's, I'll see what I can do. My main goal is to have a masterlist filled with many stories that everyone can enjoy. I don't want to limit things!

But I digress. I'll update my blog once I find some time to put aside to take requests! As of right now, it looks dead on my page so I'm gonna drabble some thoughts and hope for the best. Maybe a late-night upload?

Anyways, thanks for your message! <3

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jaysflix · 2 years ago

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Goodbye, Seven Sisters

#cardinal copia #papa emeritus iv #papa emeritus 4 #popia copia

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jaysflix · 2 years ago

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Unrequited (I-III)

Chapter I, Chapter II, 𖤐 Chapter III, Chapter IV

Part 1, Chapter 3 𖤐 Origins Genre: Romance, drama Pairing(s): Terzo/Reader, Copia/Reader Chapter Synopsis: Reminiscing.

Warnings: Sexual content (masturbation), mentions of death

4.3k words (9 pages)

He’d never lost anything until that night.

The night of the party, the night of your marriage, Copia had never fathomed the feeling of loss. He never wept in front of a crowd, but no one in the room seemed to regard him. Not now or ever. So he wept, quietly. He wept till his tear ducts slipped from his eyes. Until his heart could no longer mend, he became glass, brittle and thin, clear as day. Misery was prominent through the layers of his pale skin as the veins dyed black across his body.

While the drizzle transitioned into light rain, he stood in hopes that the haze would understand the pain and thunder striking in his heart. He’d gotten drunk that night too. Not at the party, but with his own shadow cast on the dark walls of his room, for he was the only one who could show empathy. The glow of the candle was keeping him company, and as the night wore on, he knew his friend too would disappear. It is for the best, he thought, licking the tips of his fingers to hear the satisfying sizzle between them once he shut it off.

Copia did not want to hate. Hate burns from within, and in this weak body, who knows what the heat will destroy. In the back of his mind, he’d hoped it would ruin his love for you. Now that it was official, you were no longer his. Copia couldn’t object. It would draw too much attention and he needed to lay low for a while. He needed to act as if it didn't affect him. But it did. Greatly.

During his first encounter with you, he disturbed your studies, seeking out a friend who’d run away from his room earlier that evening. Blueberries in hand, his tongue clicked soft and eagerly to lure out the rat. Then, a small squeal emitted across the library, and he knew where his companion was. Copia rushed over to the source of the sound, seeing you curled up on the daybed, clutching your book as the rat stood on its hind legs out of curiosity.

“Ay, sh, a cuccia!” He commanded, scooping her up before she chewed through the furniture mercilessly. Copia gave her a blueberry instead to keep her busy. His head turned to you, dipping a little before giving you a half-assed apology and returning to his room to give his friend a lesson about leaving without his permission. To be fair, Copia, unlike his rats, was unsocialized. His main priority was work and taking care of his pets, never seeking friends, and always keeping to himself.

The second encounter was the same. A rat had run away because Terzo left Copia’s room in a hurry. Copia had asked him to check up on his rats because he was too busy to return for lunch. Terzo agreed, got too intrigued by them, opened a cage, and left hurriedly after hearing his meal had been prepared, forgetting to lock up. Next time, he was going to ask Primo.

The rat ventured to the great beyond, filled with shelves of untouched books. It had found you too, sneaking by your side. Feeling her scratchy paws on your arm, mirroring a toddler who wanted to be held, scared you. The shriek was Copia’s beacon. He found you again, this time sitting on the bay window with a different book. He muttered something incoherent while he approached.

“You should put her on a leash.” You joked, huffing and watching as he gave her another blueberry. He said nothing to your comment, not even apologizing. Instead, he turned around with a small scoff of annoyance and walked away. What do you know about rats, he thought to himself, irritation evident in his steps. You didn't mean to offend him.

Rumors of him spread rather quick, most of which stem from poking fun at his unnatural activities and behavior. You’ve heard them all as they became popular within the abbey. Numerous reports state that he was found left for dead in a pile of debris, which explains why he is the rat whisperer. Others consist of the idea that his boosted ego made up for his smaller bits. While most are gullible to the accusations, no matter how convincing or impudent they may seem, rumors remain rumors for a reason, because no one was willing to get to know the Cardinal, so they have to live in the circulation of gossip to keep away the bore. Poor he, you thought.

His cockiness, however, was truly unbearable. No one ever dared to volunteer to help the Cardinal with his work or chores. Yet, he shooed them off when he is offered assistance rather harshly. You remembered a time when a sister came walking back from her duties, black waterfalls of mascara gushing from her eyes as she wailed on about how she’d never met a man so unbelievably inconsiderate. Another instance resulted in the same, except she was willing to tear him apart limb from limb with her bare hands. Before you could see that action, she was stopped, unfortunately.

Again the next night, you sat undisturbed in the library. Though you didn’t enjoy reading all that much, you were devoted to studying and memorizing all of what the dark lord had to offer so when the time was right, his first choice would be you. The book you held was familiar. You memorized the drawings and labels by heart and recreating them was no problem. Your real issue was remembering the words. Usually after completing the book for the hundredth time, citing the text came easy. With this one, it was such an ancient work that the words seemed to peel away each time you opened it. The language is out of date with the modern world making it too difficult to comprehend. Most of those words don’t even exist now.

A loud crack of the book slammed shut due to your frustration sent a cloud of dust to itch at your nose. In all honesty, you’d hoped for a minor distraction like the previous evenings spent here. Despite the Cardinal being perhaps the most despised worker in the church, he posed no threat to you. Opinions of a person should formulate based on your own experience and not others. The whole story of those sisters remains unknown. To you, the Cardinal is a closed-off man who made it seem that he was shy. Perhaps he doesn’t have good experience in making friends, which is why he pushes people away.

You didn’t know why you were so intrigued by him. He gives you no benefits to your work, and bothering him was out of place for you.

Returning to your room was the best idea, but your senses told you otherwise. Instead, you heard the smallest scamper on the stone floors. It was quick and trailed off into the conference room. The clicking of its claws suffocated as it made its way onto the carpet. You followed, catching a glimpse of brown hair sticking up on its back with a wire of a tail. A curious critter, sniffed the mahogany legs of a chair as you kneeled to its level. You clicked your tongue, mimicking the Cardinal’s method,

“Come here,” You coo, offering only your empty hand in hopes it will still accept the gesture. You weren’t one to keep treats in your pocket, considering you’d never really tried to lure an animal, let alone a rat. He (you assumed) was a scruffy one, hair-thin enough to see splotches of pale skin underneath. Sickness dried around his eyes in a reddish color. He could barely see, his nose twitching rapidly. A sharp, sudden pain made you retract your hand in surprise. The rat’s front teeth were stained a little red as your finger began to bleed. The bite was small but hurt like hell.

Another surprise that night crept onto Terzo’s face as he opened the door after hearing a soft knock, and seeing a ball of hair laying limp in your palms.

“Finalmente!” He exasperated, much to your confusion. He urged you inside immediately, not caring whether or not the Cardinal approved of your abrupt appearance.

It was a simple room, a lot larger than your own. To the left, hundreds of literature sat beautifully on dark stained wood, deep carvings along the sides portraying symbols of the Lord. These books were well taken care of, covering still intact and legible print on the spine, shining from the light. And in gold? You might have to borrow.

Terzo sat you down, thrilled. You remembered him being incredibly charming, eyes locked onto yours, never drifting away. He made sure you were the only subject that mattered. Terzo thought the same of you, how beautiful you were, and the way your shyness peeked through. He didn’t know then that he’d also be the one to fall under your spell.

In memory, he smiled small, “Care for a drink?” He asked, oblivious to your uncertainty. Terzo never spoke directly to you before. During confessionals, there was barely a glimpse of his personality to capture. Talking to him like this had an unusual effect on you. From the few moments with him, you’ve pieced together that he was a spirited figure, contrasting the formal act he kept up during mass or other business.

“I’m alright.” You answered, cursing at the tremble. He didn’t make you nervous; the casual conversation felt off in a way that one’s boss attempts to be friendly to a subordinate. Seeing as Terzo was your higher-up and you were merely an overshadowed character, blending in with the rest of the abbey, yes, it was quite strange for him to recognize you.

An awkward silence filled the room before you inquired, “Should we be doing this?”

He chuckled, pouring a drink for himself.

“We’re breaking no rules. Look at it this way: we are on housekeeping duty, keeping the place cozy until his grand arrival.”

“I don’t think his eminence would appreciate me here.” Your words trailed off. Peering down at your hand, the rat shifted into a more comfortable position, swiping its nose after every sneeze. Slowly the rat imprinted on your heart, looking at its pure black eyes showed more emotion than any other rodent you’ve come across. Around the room, you wondered where the Cardinal kept his pets unless he let them roam around. Chills ran down your spine just at the idea. The last thing on your list would be waking up to a rat nibbling at your nose.

From the blue, a raccoon-eyed Cardinal, wearing his usual black cassock, swooped in, halting dead in his tracks at the sight of you. His stressed expression worsened. Lots of things were on his plate; nothing could’ve prepared him for this arrival. Terzo gave it no thought.

“She comes bearing gifts! Cardinale, where can I find a partner like this?”

This being your first encounter with Terzo made the scene uncomfortable. For one, he assumed that you were going to sleep with Copia, not knowing about your deep devotion to someone of greater power (which came across as an insult to you), plus the loud announcement rippling down the corridors for everyone to hear.

The Cardinal grunted, making his way to the other side in his more private chambers.

“Vattene.”

“Ah-ah, where are your manners? We treat our guests with hospitality.” Copia ignored his calls, hastily searching around his office for something you had no knowledge of.

Before being given the chance to speak, Terzo leans down beside your ear and whispers, “He’s a shy one. I’m glad to know he has the charm to invite such a beaut. Do not worry, he won’t bite unless you ask him to.”

He leaned back with the smallest of smiles as he watched your mouth gape.

“That’s not what I’m here for.” You respond. Unconvinced, he quirked a brow. Nevertheless, he confronted his mistake.

“Apologies. He’s not one for visitors.”

The Cardinal was very private about his space. His preference is easy to understand, after all, it is his room, a sanctuary. Terzo, along with the other emeritus brothers, was the exception. However, lately, Terzo has been worried for the Cardinal, seeing as he’s always alone in his private thoughts and kept busy with unnecessary mountains of work, collecting dust on his desk until more is balanced on top.

Copia never had his fair share of partners, unlike the three brothers. His rats were all he needed to get him through the days. Terzo pleads with him to put himself out there to experience, at least once, sexual pleasure. He denies it every time. It just wasn’t possible for a man like him to leave room aside for someone else to give him a sense of euphoria. Plus, he defends, there was no point if he could just do it himself.

“It’s different.” Terzo would say.

Looking at you at his door gave him a sense of hope. So, he gives a thumbs up of encouragement before walking off without a goodbye to his dear friend.

Further inside, through the opened arch, a console table leaned against the wall with lightened candles and a tapestry draped above. An open book sat atop, lightly written words in the best cursive you’ve ever seen. You leaned over, trying your best to read in the dark. It was interesting to see a glimpse of him from his room. Simple, clean, and most of all, comforting.

A gloved hand snapped it shut, making you cringe in surprise. The Cardinal stood to your side, annoyance emitting from his eyes. You backed away as he stepped closer to you, looming over your figure to assert himself in hopes you’d turn away.

“Lasciami in pace.” A command, rough and straightforward and equally as chilling as the look in his eyes. He pushed past you, collecting things from the floor into a collective pile. You hadn’t even noticed the mattress without a frame, unmade by the window.

“Your Eminence, I’ve come in need of-“

“Feh! I said leave, sister.” His hand waved you off in the air as he came back up, pushing the papers against his body to straighten them out. He barely gave you any eye contact at all, again grazing past you toward his desk on the other side, the hem of his black cassock swaying back and forth with each step. You followed hurriedly, keeping a short distance, your hand still cupped with the rat inside.

“Please Cardinal, will you hear me?”

“No. I don’t care how Terzo is paying you, I have nessuna voglia di fotterti.” Just after he finished, something burned within your hand, like raw flesh being exposed to salt and ice. They created a sound you didn’t know they could; the sound of lightning striking away at the first thing it could land on. And the thunder, loud in which they come, leaving an imprint on your fingertips just below his eye. Copia’s head snapped to its side from the force, eyes widened in pure anger and shock.

“Puttana!” He seethed, then gripped at your wrist with the guilty hand, which earned a small yelp, “You will not disrespect me.”

“They were right about you.” You snapped, the same amount of anger pulsating through you. He was taken aback by your retort, allowing you to shake free. To think for a second that maybe, just maybe, he was going to give you a chance. To help you. The rumors may not be true, but now you know that he was the most unlikable being for a reason. Just as cocky and insufferable as they say. You were humiliated. Curiosity got the best of you, but really all you wanted from him, was help so the little one could live a long and, hopefully, fulfilling life.

Now it was your turn to dart past, heading toward the door to take your leave. You should’ve been in your bedroom in the first place. None of this would’ve happened.

Something inside him that night switched on. He thought about all those poems he’d written. The time spent in his office reading books about hopeless relationships between friends, lovers, and family. They all had one thing in common, something he desperately wanted to have with someone new. A connection. Deep down, the Cardinal knew the spreading disease and horrible words thrown at him were hurtful, and the other siblings gave him little to no attention or interest in his adoration. He tried his best to not care, yet it still put him down. Then there was you, which came to confront him willingly, which isn’t seen very often.

“Aspetta.” You had just crossed the line that separated his sanctuary from the darkness of the hallways. The words were coated with such sadness, you couldn’t help the sympathy tighten in your chest. You debated whether or not to turn around and accept his plea. Maybe, just for tonight, you’d give him a chance. So you turned, seeing him rub his gloved knuckles in a fidget. Holding out your hand, you revealed the reason for your coming,

“I believe he is sick.”

Now, standing above the various cages, he stared down at the lump of fur on its back, still with life hollowed out. He saved him once and could’ve saved him again if it weren’t for the selfish desire to drink and throw away the pent-up anger through the walls. This wasn’t like him. Not at all.

He’s always been attentive to his furry friends, taking time to check on their health between his working hours. It’s been weeks since he’d given them proper care. If you were here, the smack he would’ve gotten would be much worse than the first. He didn’t even notice his hand on his cheek, reminding him of the stinging sensation that lasted about an hour.

“Forgive me.” He choked, dropping to a knee as the floodgates burst again. Why is it that the mere life of a rat meant so little, but so much at the same time? Could this be an omen speaking to him? Love is gone, and so is the connection he formed all those years ago, the rat being a representation of a triumphant success they’d both managed. You and he saved the little fellow together. Now, togetherness was no longer, and the tug of this realization pulled down hard until his heart was no longer connected to his soul.

Unlocking the cage, he took the stiffness on his palm, remembering how attentive you were when he told you all about the symptoms the poor rat was showing, and how he could teach you all the things there was to know about them without being judged or given a strange look. He let you meet the others, picking them up one by one to let you hold. When he saw your smile and the way you babied them despite your established fear, he knew the distinction between wanting you as a friend and a lover. The thought appeared as a whisper, but he knew it wouldn’t dissipate within his lifetime. For months you visited his place, most of the time uninvited. He didn’t care. He wanted you there with him and would make excuses to return just so he could spend quality time with you. Soon, after a few years, he will marry you. And as he suspected, the thought never vanished. It coursed to a much heavier feeling he couldn’t shake off.

Death always meant change.

“I think I know why you understand them so much.” You told him once, a finger stroking gently across a fuzzy back. Copia sighed, leaning back in his chair, quill tickling his temple in thought as he watched you kneeling in front of the many enclosures.

“Is that right?” You nodded.

“The misunderstood often find each other.” You answered.

He thought about that for a while, piecing little by little a puzzle to better comprehend. He never thought of himself as misunderstood, just silent and dedicated to his work more than other things. Yes, there were weird things he had connections with that weren’t human, but it’s what makes him perceive the world as interconnected. He didn’t need the human population to be his friend when other species could provide him with the same amount of affection and loyalty he craved his whole life. They didn’t understand him, and they still loved him dearly. Then there was you, his priority among other deals.

You’d searched for him in the night for his help.

He wondered then if you were like him.

･ﾟ:*𖤐*:･ﾟ

Terzo found himself thinking about the painfulness of drowning, and if he in this very moment were to drown, would he survive such a fatal accident? The thoughts were getting out of hand, he knew it. Laying bare in the depths of his bathtub often calls for dangerous thinking as a pastime. There was no hurry, so he relaxed in the iciness of lavender-infused water, marinating until his hands were pruned. The weight of his head dragged him further, eventually sinking into the depths of silence. He closed his eyes, feeling the cold rush renew his body. His hands ran across his face, palms skimming his cheeks to rid of the black. Rubbing away at the paint began to color any clean water that remained.

Out of breath, he came back up again, faster than anticipated as the pounding headache never went away, only knocking at the front of his skull even harder. It’d been about an hour since what happened between you and him, and his apology was overdue. The whole situation was stupid, really. Relaying the explanation in his head over and over again made him realize how unbelievable the story sounded. There was no way for you to trust him, and he couldn’t blame you.

Violently he shuddered. It was time to leave the isolation of his porcelain pod. Being ill was exhausting. God, even the cold bath could not wake him. He thought about resting, but feeling at peace was not an option right now. There was a problem he could not postpone till tomorrow, afraid that Sister would repeat what she’d done last night. Not only that, he was afraid of himself. It was still morning, and although most of the alcohol drained out of his system, his insides were still coated lightly with the unknown intoxicant. The raging hard-on from previously was still existent, in need of release. A shuddered gasp escaped as he brushed ever so slightly against the very tip, sensitive to the touch.

He’d never felt it become this fragile like this before, the sensation was almost as euphoric as it was painful. The reason he hadn’t given in yet was that he knew the guilt that would come after. However, as time passed he was unsure if it would go away in time, so he took this opportunity, replacing his remorse with full pleasure. It’d been waiting a long while to feel his bare hands, Terzo bucked his hips unwillingly once he began to slide a fist at an agonizing pace. Heavy breaths were meant to replace his moans. The sounds were so loud that at this point, he was sure you heard him from the other side of the door.

His selfish desires traveled home from the thought of you. The heart could only carry so much, he didn’t know how long he could hold it up. If it were to fall and burst, so would he. Terzo would profess everything he’s ever felt about you. From the beginning, a few years back, to now. How lucky he is to say he is married to you. There. That was it. His confirmation that there was no remorse for the Cardinal. He is to have to all to himself, and the thought of returning you makes him sick.

He let out a low, quiet groan, frustrated with the idea. There must be a passage in which you will return these intense feelings. He began to pump vigorously, chasing the edge that beckoned. Water sloshed over the sides, slivers of black staining the tub as he gave more violent strokes than he’s ever done before. He reached for the rim, grabbing on for support once he could feel himself crossing the line to pure ecstasy.

You were beginning to feel impatient, silently hoping he didn’t fall asleep in there. You could just go out on your own, the thought of it overwhelmed you, and the moment you would see Copia, you were sure you’d break down and run away. It was scary confronting someone you loved dearly just to be chained to another. The anticipation was killing you. What was taking him so fucking long?

Right on cue, the door opened, revealing a well-groomed Terzo, with a side of distress. He didn’t acknowledge you for a minute, awkwardly stepping out and closing the door behind him. You eyed him, trying not to show your impatience. He could already sense it from where he stood.

“Everything okay?” You asked. He stiffened,

“Fine. Everything is fine.” Though he tried his best to be convincing, your stance said otherwise. Arms crossed over your chest, repeatedly tapping your foot slightly, and brows furrowed. He sighed, “I’m sorry cuore mio. There have been many things on my mind lately.”

You had to give it to him. A lot has happened in less than twenty-four hours, and your body has begged for a break. However, there was no point in resting until this mistake clears up, and you can live happily with Copia as your one true love. Terzo, you noticed, doesn’t seem to understand or even like the idea of going through more work than he has to. You couldn’t do it alone, and right now you needed him to be your supporter.

“If I may confess,”

“Go on.”

“I only wish for things to be the way they were.” You didn’t have to elaborate; Terzo understood. Sometimes, he wishes that too. Meeting you was the best thing to ever happen to him, but since it’s been costing him so much, he wishes he never had.

Translations: (sorry if they're wrong) a cuccia! - Down! Finalmente! - Finally! Vatenne. - Go away. Lasciami in pace. - Leave me alone. nessuna voglia di fotterti. - no desire to fuck you. Puttana! - Bitch! Aspetta. - Wait. cuore mio. - my heart.

Chapter I, Chapter II, 𖤐 Chapter III, Chapter IV

Notes: Sorry for the long wait, I was tweaking this chapter so much. Don't know if I'm satisfied with it so I might edit it here or there. Hope you enjoyed it!

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jaysflix · 3 years ago

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Hello, I prepared some statistics to give you a short overview of Ghost’s amazingly successful 2022. It is based on data I collected between 22/12/2021 and 22/12/2022.

The big Ghost event of 2022 was of course the release of the band’s fifth album, IMPERA.

Since March 11, it has sold nearly 500,000 copies, won the American Music Award for Favorite Rock Album and received a Grammy nomination for Best Metal Performance (‘Call Me Little Sunshine’).

Within the first week of its release, the album reached #2 on the Billboard 200 (ranking the 200 most popular music albums and EPs in the United States) and ranked in the top 20 best-selling albums in 19 countries across the world:

#1 in Sweden, Austria, Germany, Finland, Spain

#2 in US, UK, Belgium, Norway, Netherlands

#3 in Australia, Canada

#5 in Switzerland, Ireland, France

#7 in Poland

#8 in Hungary

#12 in Denmark, Portugal

#20 in Italy

IMPERA is Ghost’s best charting album to date.

On YouTube, the band amassed a staggering 260 million views. 840,000 people subscribed to the channel this year, which makes up 42% of all current subscribers.

5 most watched videos on YouTube in 2022:

Mary On A Cross (Official Audio) – 32 million views

Call Me Little Sunshine (Official Music Video) – 15 million views

Square Hammer (Official Music Video) – 11 million views

Mary On A Cross (Live in Tampa 2022) – 8.2 million views

Spillways (Official Music Video) – 6.8 million views

On Spotify, the band amassed 1,285,625 new followers. That’s around 61% of all followers since the band appeared on the platform.

5 most streamed songs on Spotify in 2022:

Mary On A Cross - 193,709,473 streams

Call Me Little Sunshine – 41,108,589 streams

Square Hammer – 29,720,042 streams

Dance Macabre – 26,494,053 streams

Spillways – 24,910,870 streams

It goes without saying that the viral success of Mary On A Cross on TikTok brought in a lot of new fans this year, but the magnitude of it becomes even more astonishing if you look at numbers.

On this graph, I marked a few events that resulted in a noticeable spike in the number of monthly listeners on Spotify, including the approximate time when MOAC began to gain traction on TikTok. As you can see, nothing, not even the release of a new album, gave the band as much attention as the 3-year old song suddenly raising in popularity on one single platform.

Between end of July and beginning of October, the number of monthly listeners on Spotify skyrocketed from 2.5 million to 12 million. This is a 380% increase.

Although the numbers have been in decline since then, it appears that for the past month they have stayed at a steady 9 million. As of today (Dec 22, 2022) the exact number is 9,110,996. Exactly a year ago (Dec 22, 2021) the number was 1,999,951. A hefty 355% increase in only a year.

Some other milestones and fun facts:

On June 7, Cirice, Dance Macabre, and Square Hammer were all certified Gold by the RIAA for sales of 500,000 units in the USA. Following the viral success, Mary On A Cross was also certified Gold on November 20.

The band’s most liked post on Instagram this year was a video of Papa throwing the first pitch at the White Sox game (273,241 likes).

The episode of Jimmy Kimmel Live where Ghost performed Call Me Little Sunshine was watched by around 1.3 million people.

In September, Ghost reached over 12 million monthly listeners on Spotify and was the 450th most streamed artist globally - that’s 450 out of over 11 million!

As of today with over 1.6 billion accumulated streams Ghost is one of the 1,000 most successful artists on the platform of all time (currently #808).

On September 11, Mary On A Cross peaked at #1 in the Viral Hits chart on Spotify in 54 countries across the world.

It was also the highest charting Swedish song on the platform in 2022, peaking globally at #31.

At this point I think it’s safe to declare that Ghost’s global success reached unprecedent heights this year and even allowed them to officially join the ranks of mainstream artists. With all of the above, 70 completed shows this year and many more to come in 2023, and with media of the likes of The Wall Street Journal proclaiming Ghost “the next generation of arena stars,” it looks like that the band is well on the way to become one of the biggest rock acts of this century. Not bad for a side project started by one Swede in his bedroom somewhere in Linköping.

Let us hope 2023 will be as devilishly good!

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jaysflix · 3 years ago

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Unrequited (I-II)

Chapter I, 𖤐 Chapter II, Chapter III, Chapter IV

Part 1, Chapter 2 𖤐 Whatever Burns, Burns Internally Genre: Romance, drama Pairing(s): Terzo/Reader, Copia/Reader Chapter Synopsis: The sun brings a new day, but not a bright one. Terzo needs to recollect his memories of last night. If recalling correctly, he needed to do something important.

Notes: I was planning on making this chapter longer but the second half of it seemed out of place, plus I feel guilty for having to make everyone wait a week for another chapter. Im sorry for the lack of progression in this one. I hope you enjoy nevertheless!

Warnings: drugs/drugged, vomit, choking, angst, sexual themes

3k words

The office was cold. Wood stained with a dark finish, and every corner dusted to perfection. Sister always knew how to be well-kept just like she always knew how to run a business. The clergy stands so strong because of her fine work. She doesn’t let anything go to waste, rather she has a purpose for every little thing in the church. And everyone in it was just a little pawn to her big plans. Soon the world will understand their ways, but they need something new. Something intriguing. Something that can lure the minds of great ones in their direction. Sister cannot do it alone, and it is why Terzo has been summoned.

They’d been discussing his promotion for a while now, hinting greatly at his Papacy through the media. Secondo’s time was coming to an end, decided by Sister because of his lack of upbringing and the abundant amount of girls he’s brought home into his room with no explanation whatsoever. His ways were ridiculed, which is why Sister turned to Terzo almost immediately. She never really had faith in Secondo anyway. Terzo knew deep down that she had the same views as him, and he understood that needed a new progeny immediately. What he didn’t understand was why she chose you specifically.

Terzo wanted to groan as Sister poured another drink for him. He guessed that she was unaware of his already drunken state because, in the presence of someone as powerful as she, he was always good at pretending.

“A shame Papa could not be present today.” A deep purple drained like silk down his glass. He watched the thickness fill what felt close to the rim, humming in response to fill the murderous silence,

“I suppose so,” Terzo replied, hesitant to take a sip. He’d been thinking too much lately. It was not good for his mind, and the wine was certainly making it harder to stop. Thoughts are dangerous. They start merely as innocent as a blanket of snow before the sun casts its treacherous beams and wilts the land till it’s nothing but mush. It is why Terzo never had a rational thought in his life. It’s easier to do things as they come rather than rethink and overthink them.

The purple coated thick in his throat, a close resemblance to that of blood. Though it lacks the metallic taste, there was a definite sting, like acid burning his organs. Was this even wine, or was his sight so impaired he’d mistaken the wine glass for whiskey? No alcohol should be this strong, honestly, he thought. It never left a good feeling on his tongue, and brushing his teeth after was always a pain because the taste always remained in the back of his throat. Then in the morning, all his taste buds burned away and left a bad feeling, but that could also just be his breath.

Either way, he hated it.

Surprisingly, Terzo always preferred something on the easier side. Mixed drinks were a personal favorite, as long as he couldn’t taste the alcohol. For a man of his age, he certainly had a childish palate. Simplicity was the thing he enjoyed in life. Extravagance was a privilege, so choosing the fancier things seemed right. Might as well take advantage of the things he’ll only have once in his life. Terzo can’t remember the last time he ate the same meal twice. Not even leftovers. Not even Papa, but still a prince in this court just because his blood was pure, unmatched. Almost priceless.

Good lord. He was thinking again.

Sister noticed. It didn’t take long, considering the fact he was silent, ignoring her ongoing rant about what is right, blah blah this blah blah that. The blue tint of her office started to garnish with a low grey. He sank into the cushion beneath him unwillingly. The seat was eating him alive. Other pieces of furniture waited still, and the glass in his hand was clean. No trace of his drink was left behind, yet Sister’s glass occupied the desk, still full.

The weight of his head began to expand too much for his shoulders, but an unfamiliar rage in his lower stomach also began to build until it took over. Desperation nailed to the armrests of his chair, gripping for stability. All of him felt bound to explode. This feeling, so gnawing. Many thoughts began to pour. Even his faulty brain couldn’t handle the distress. It was a smothering black smoke he could not rid of, and too dense to call in professionals. Shall he die within the mist of his desires? Sister didn’t see why not. She saw him attempt to recollect himself; to remember his sole purpose of her game. Another pawn will spawn.

Terzo was burning with lust and desire, not in the way he liked. There was something in the drink, he realized. This was no time to be feeling this way. No, this passion mixed with utter hatred was not a good look. He needed an escape, but queens don’t set their men free without a fight.

His grip became tighter around the arms, back pressed firmly against the seat.

“Once Secondo returns delightfully so, your final duty begins,” Terzo hadn’t even realized his choking until he tried to speak. His eyes widened with shock, and his gloved hand made its way to his throat. The acidic feeling grew, melting its way through his veins. Hacking his way off the chair, Terzo knocked everything over in a panic. Glasses, stationery, and his chair were all sprawled across the floor. A high-pitched ring only worsened his state.

Sister eyed him, unfazed by his reaction. “I expect things to go well tonight. Do not disappoint me.” Terzo could only choke out a low groan, seeking the nearest exit. The halls felt narrow. There were too many turns that only led to the same place over and over again. He needed water. Anything to drown it out.

He’d been taken over by infatuation so dangerous, containing himself was war. A war he refused to let you witness. And a war he could not defeat.

The halls didn’t stop spinning until he could taste the cold tile floors. For a second, it all seemed so still. Terzo considered laying here, perhaps forever. He was entirely too exhausted to face what the future promised. If he could just lay here for a second longer, maybe even ten minutes, to recollect himself. Sister made herself very clear. the emphasis of her last words rang in his ears. Is there a way out? Where was the Cardinal?

For the first time in his life, he couldn’t help but feel ever so lonely. And he’s always been surrounded by people, but these people are incapable. Impotent.

Terzo was powerless.

When he woke, he didn’t remember any of the events taking place that night. The last memory was coming back to see you. There was a strange feeling he remembered like he needed to see you and he didn't know why. A throbbing ache pounded in his head, ushering for him to shield himself from the light and the soft sound of your voice. He froze. Your voice.

Terzo lifted his upper half from the couch, turning to see you standing worriedly before him. You were still dressed in white. The light from the window behind you added a soft glow to your clothing. Like an angel in his presence, so gentle and sweet, and resembling honeysuckles growing with no guilt nor shame during spring’s prime. He could smell the sweet nectar from his position, wishing to taste your natural flavor. If you stood any closer, he promised to be gentle as he sucked away your innocence from the bud. Your beauty left him speechless. Oh. Now he remembered why he yearned to visit you. A rush of memories came flooding back to him, and that acidic feeling he hated so much returned as well. From the pit of his stomach, traveling toward the roof of his mouth.

Terzo tripped over his own legs in attempt to get up. Quickly, he searched for anything to catch his own fluids before it spewed all over the lavish furniture. The porcelain throne was nowhere to be found in the midst of his panic, but your guidance led him through the other side of his room. Your reaction time was prompt, though it was a struggle to trudge over your dress to the bathroom. As soon as you reached inside, Terzo hunched over, coughing out every bit of poision he’d ingested the night before. It was thicker than the wine, almost pasty. He shuddered at your touch when you attempted to soothe him, almost motherly. When his senses began to return, he finally heard what kindness you had to say.

“Are you alright?” Terzo was practically panting. He reached over to push down the lever, flushing away whatever erupted from his mouth. His headache remained, only the warmth of your words soothing the pain for a second.

You saw him glance over at you, pupils blown. It was terrifying, to say the least, identical to the eyes of a predator. There was definitely something he was trying to suppress, and your company didn’t alleviate the pressure. A low groan escaped his lips in dissatisfaction. In a raspy voice, he ordered,

“Leave, and lock yourself in the bedroom.” He never gave you that tone before. Something about it sounded frustrated, not at you but at himself. It was almost a warning. Confused, you decided not to ask questions, scared he would turn against you. Frankly, the two of you never had the closest connection. Even with Copia, it seemed Terzo wouldn’t acknowledge you only if it was to give you a small greeting. Maybe he hated you. No, that’s irrational. There isn’t possibly a single thing you’ve done to earn his hatred. Besides, yesterday he treated you with affection and care. Now you were frustrated. What did he feel for you?

You complied with his demand, trying to make it less obvious that you were practically rushing out of the bathroom and toward the bedroom.

Hearing the click of a lock, Terzo stood. Legs trembling, they felt paralyzed as he managed to reach the sink. He hadn’t realized how sweaty he was until he ran a hand, still gloved, through his slick hair. Every black strand shined with his residue, disgustingly so. The mirror above the sink reflected a horrid image of him: makeup running down, pupils hiding his iris, clothing wrinkled and stained with wine. He looked awful, and he was embarrassed you saw him in such a state.

To compose himself, he turned on the faucet to its coldest setting, splashing water over his face and into his mouth to rid of the taste. The effects of the drug were still heavily present, he didn’t know how much longer he could restrain himself from taking you, and he feels terrible for having to trap you in his room.

The velvet comforter kept warm as you lay there waiting. For what? You were unsure. Was he mad at you? Maybe something upset him last night to drastically change his tone. With time, you were certain the hungover feeling would go away. To see him this way pained you and you wanted to help him. Still, the aching feeling in your heart still gushed. Helping Terzo was only an escape from thinking about anything else.

On the other side of the door, the sound of aggressive brushing sourced from the bathroom. You wanted to laugh, mainly because you never thought you’d ever get to see (or hear rather) someone so sophisticated and serious, aggressively clean their teeth. Laughing, however, took too much effort. Your body was still exhausted from previous events, and breathing felt like a chore. The expansion of your lungs with every inhale felt bruised. More internally, every pull of a muscle cried bloody murder. Too much strain could pull you apart like putty rubber, disintegrating with every stretch. You could just lay in his bed for the remainder of the day, wallowing, but Terzo was in need of assistance. It would be rude of you to deny him.

Numb as he heard the door opening, his gaze did its best to not lose sight of his hands. He stood in front of the mirror, pacing against the porcelain. You noticed his slouched position remained, head lowered so you could only see the top of his head reflected in the mirror. Terzo’s heart pumped out of his chest in fear and infatuation. The rage in his trousers didn’t help either. The last thing he needed was to leave a wrong impression on you…but this was truly embarrassing.

Of course, you were oblivious to it all, god bless your sweet soul, he thought before you inched closer to feel across his back. The motion was enough to set him off, his restrain almost completely out the door. The white of his eye glinted dangerously close to yours, you weren’t sure how he moved so quickly. Your muscles screamed once more as he closed in on you, pressing you hard against the frame. His chest heaved uncontrollably, pupils dilated at their fullest while the heat of his fresh mint breath burned your cheeks. In this position, it was hard not to feel all of him. Every crook and crevice of his body was perfectly placed on yours. Though his excitement was terrifying, you didn’t move a hair, nor did you let out such a whisper. Your eyes were turned down, scanning the black of his uncovered fingers in an attempt to fix his makeup.

As desperation grew, so did the need to feel you. He panted even harder now, cupping your face with his stained hands, forcing you to look him in the eyes. Just mere centimeters away and you would be claimed as his.

No. He needed to stop thinking. If only he was able to screw out his own brain and relieve such dreadfulness. Too many sorrows, and so many regrets.

He should’ve been the one to win your heart over. He should be the one you were so madly in love with. He should be the one you wanted to surrender to, bear his children, and live happily in the ministry. No. Because of you, things were so difficult that Sister had to butt in and put things in her own hands. She’s the one that wants–needs Terzo to take advantage of you. He won’t do it. However, right now he was yearning for your touch. He absolutely longed to feel you against him to the hilt, flaming with passion around him. He needed to know what your grip around his hair felt like. To see you with the same neediness as him once he became entangled between your legs, sliding in and out with ease. To stain you with the darkness of Lucifer himself. And once you came undone for the first time, he wouldn’t even think to stop until he was certain you were full of him, dripping with his seed of lust.

Stop thinking. Christ, he was losing himself to the dark well of wanting, he didn’t realize the subtle whine escaping him as he clung closer to you. The black smudge traced from your cheeks and to your neck, where he closed a soft fist to feel you closer without lips touching. Instead, he rested his forehead against yours to avoid the forbidden kiss. There was no recovery from this. No explanation can conjure the fact that he was deeply in love with you. The drug was only bringing out his worst. The feelings that were supposed to remain deep within when the truth is, he was always like this. But now there was no restraint, no control.

It’d been just a few minutes until his realization that his hands grouped together tighter, blocking your airway. Quickly he removed his hands, head still against yours only placing his fingers on your waist to compose himself once more.

“You’re burning up,” You said quietly in hopes of easing this terribly awkward moment. Terzo was thankful because it distracted him from his uncontrollable mind. “You might have a fever.” You were trembling now, tears threatening to leave your eyes. Perhaps his kindness was temporary. He could feel himself regaining control, moving away from your face to rest on your shoulder. The gesture made you quiver as his hair tickled along your neck. Something washed over him, like a flood within his esophagus. He grunted,

“I think I might hurl.”

“Please, not on me.” The base of his neck heaved a vigorous gag before he threw himself off of you to return to the throne. His coughs were harsh and you could see his entire body vibrate. Disgusting as the sounds were, pulling back his bangs was the only thing you could do to comfort him in his sick state. The feeling was finally gone as the last of the drug was leaving his system. Terzo wasn’t used to being ill so the sensation was too much for him to handle. Each retch only made his head pound harder he was sure he would burst. You continued to soothe him, rubbing gently on his shoulders. He leaned back onto you after finishing, taking your hand into his own to caress your fingers. His shoulders dropped with a heavy sigh.

“Amore mio,” He whispered, tilting his head back to look you directly, “There’s much to say, but we must find the Cardinal first.”

“No. You are unwell, you need rest.” He shook his head, trying to convince you that he was perfectly alright now that his hangover had passed. You saw through him, but arguing would do nothing, so you helped him up.

“I think a shower will do us good. Go ahead while I forge some new clothes for you, hm?” His voice, rasped, yet gentle. You hummed, slightly taken aback by his change of attitude. He did say there was an explanation, and with time he will give it to you.

A/N: I PROMISE Copia will be in the next chapter!

Chapter I, 𖤐 Chapter II, Chapter III, Chapter IV

#cardinal copia #cardinal copia x reader #copia x reader #ghost bc #papa emeritus 4 #papa emeritus iv #papa emeritus iv x reader #papa emeritus x reader #popia copia #the band ghost #papa emeritus iii x reader #papa emeritus iii #papa terzo #papa emeritus 3 #ghost the band #terzo x reader #papa emeritus iii terzo

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jaysflix · 3 years ago

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Unrequited (I)

𖤐 Chapter I, Chapter II, Chapter III, Chapter IV

Part I, Chapter I 𖤐 The Unequal Marriage Genre: Romance, drama Pairing(s): Terzo/Reader, Copia/Reader Synopsis: To whom you marry isn't the right one. What can be done? Notes: Before we jump to conclusions here, no this story does not contain incest, you weirdos. Just think of it like Twilight with that whole triangle thing they had going on.

Warnings: injuries, description of anxiety attacks, and, like, heavy angst

2.5k words

There was a deep, heavy, and strangling silence that filled the room. Everyone knew the incorrectness of the situation, but no one had the power or courage to stop it without suffering greater consequences. The question of why hung in the air. Why was this to happen all so suddenly? Why was this decided among the highest members of the church? And why was it deemed the most responsible thing to do? The church spent so many years defying the good of Christ, highlighting the flaws of Catholic beliefs yet now it only reflects. The unfairness, inequality, and lack of empathy only proved that no one, no matter the circumstance, is safe from it all even when converting from one religion to another in an act of rebellion.

Rebellion. Such a strong, powerful behavior, but one you cannot do. For the sake of your beloved, sitting among the audience. Every chime of the bell drowned out the sounds of his shattering soul. How could it not? To see the one he’s only ever wanted to be with, standing at the altar with a dark covering, however unable to mask the trail of tears streaming in an unhealthy amount. He was supposed to be the one up there by your side, the biggest of smiles and excitement running through his veins. Anger, sadness, and a mix of other horrible feelings were all about what he felt at this moment. Perhaps everyone else felt it too.

The chapel seemed to slowly fill with your river, and by the time you donned the ring, with a too-big-of-a-diamond screeching at your face, the water had risen up to your ears, silencing the words of the minister. When the two words were to be stolen from your lips, the liquid filled your mouth and deep into your lungs. Breathing became difficult. Mustering the strength with the help of your demons, silently the words spilled before you could choke a sob,

“I do.” The words were barely a whisper, but enough for both Terzo and the minister to hear clearly. Giving permission for what’s to come next, Terzo gallantly turned to you, uncovering your face from the sheer black. He already knew what to expect once he saw you clearly: puffy eyes, a swelling redness, and of course the darkness within them. You stared heartbreakingly at him, afraid that something would take your only true partner away if you didn't marry him. Terzo stared back, slowly and gently bringing a hand to cup your cheek, swiping away at the tears. His eyes held the same sorrow, and as he whispered a crushing apology, he took your hand and led you away from the altar to seal this new marriage.

A delay of claps echoed throughout. No smiles, no cheers, just a wave of pitiful cracks as you both scurried off. Terzo held you close behind him, his body shielding you from the crowd to save your shame. Your eyes are glued to his back before coming to a familiar figure standing in the far corner of the pews. Copia’s eyes, as swelled as yours, followed you as you exited.

There would be no celebration tonight. Not with you present, at least. But anyone could expect that of course. How can anyone recover from this horrible tragedy? This pain? No, tonight you would mourn over the loss of your freedom.

･ﾟ:*𖤐*:･ﾟ

Terzo was ever so soft upon entering the room, where many would assume with the strength of Satan you were to become fertilized. He knew better; to theive your virginity was not the position he wanted. You belonged to someone else, but even so, he would never want to gain that kind of authority if one didn’t allow it. Alternatively, Terzo sat you on his linen sofa, making sure you were comfortable by adjusting the pillows behind your back and to your sides.

Though the air remained thick with your misery, suddenly it was easier to breathe. His kindness is the only source you received today, still, you expected nothing less of him. Terzo always remained tender regardless of his sexual nature which lured mindless members to his bed. The thought of him showing no signs of pursuing you was comforting, to say the least, but at some point, it will cost you. You both knew it. If you fail the church to produce his progeny, only Satan knows what happens next, and you know it doesn't involve just you and Terzo, but Copia as well.

Guilt would forever haunt Terzo. In a way, you guessed, it was comforting to know how much pain he felt because he understands your view. A friend is what you need most. Hopefully, he can return these feelings and aid you throughout this mishap. It will take time to convince the higher ranks of this opposition, considering their plans are following through quicker than expected. With Terzo being the closest to their level, he can explain the wrongness and find justice. Yes. Your hope is restored, but not completely. The first step is to get him on board.

Unknowing, he now kneels in front of you, scanning your face for, well, anything. Noticeably there was nothing. No hint of happiness wavered. The sadness shriveled into emptiness, despite your newfound faith. Exhaustion overwhelmed you above all else.

“They will be expecting of us.” He said firmer than he wanted to, only because he didn’t know if you’d be listening. You were. You didn’t respond, watching loose strands of hair fall perfectly over his eyes. Terzo’s gaze lowered, stopping at your lips before dropping to your feet. They were red; the silver buckle fastened tight around your ankles. A sign of struggle. They must’ve rushed you into your wedding attire. He could hardly think of what they’d put you through to get you fully dressed.

Attempts were made to run away, but the church knew all too well about your plans. Eyes were on you everywhere, eventually dragging you back from climbing out an opening. They tried so hard to be kind, but with all your scuffling, being hurt was inevitable. You screamed, cried, and screamed over and over again, pleading with tears and blood that it was all a dream. A joke. A misunderstanding. Everything was so utterly painful, you weren’t completely sure your voice was there.

And here is Terzo; gloved hands skimming cautiously down your leg. He adjusted himself, lifting your feet to rest on his thigh, allowing him better access to free you of these shackles. This kindness became too overwhelming as it was the first you received today. No tears slipped–all of it already spent.

You tried your best not to seeth at the pain, but as soon as Terzo peeled away your shoes, which had noticeably inaccurate measurements, a heavy sigh of relief released from your lungs. He put the shoe aside, then took his thumb to caress at the red indents. Your feet were severely bruised. You were lucky he got them off immediately. He continued to the next one, being just as careful to remove them.

This warmth was disturbing enough that you just wanted to shrivel up and collapse. Every nerve in your body was unwilling to move you to do so. Instead, you blankly stared into space, Terzo’s fingertips rubbing circles to soothe the bruising. Then, he stood slowly, for he thought any quick movement would startle you. His eyes never strayed away from you, but he was saddened by the fact he was staring at your scalp and not the lovely face he is overly fond of. Even in your state, devastated and distraught, he only wished to cherish what he married. Selfishly.

He couldn’t believe it. He knew it was wrong, yet the feeling was always there, thriving as a sad little bud at the bottom of his heart. Terzo had to shake off this feeling. Perhaps a drink or two will help. As much as he wanted to reach out and tilt your chin upwards to look him in the eye, he gave you your space. He probably made you uncomfortable with taking off your shoes. This would be too much.

“I will make an appearance,” He told you, turning to take his leave. “Make yourself comfortable.”

The door closed shut, leaving you in the dim light of his room. You sat there for a minute before everything finally settled in. You are married now. Not to the man you love, but to his trusted friend. Maybe even a brother. It dawned on you. A sinking feeling washed over you until your breath was no longer there. A shiver ran down your spine as cold sweat seeped out of every pour. Your chest began to heave rapidly. Child-like sobs erupted from deep within. Everything felt small. Trapping. You clung onto everything and anything you could find, trying to find release. Suddenly your attire became too tight, slowly strangling your airway. You clawed with all your might to get rid of the thing, the last bit of tears straining your eyes. Thoughts of Copia flashed through your mind before darkness swallowed you whole.

･ﾟ:*𖤐*:･ﾟ

Terzo arrived on the scene, not expecting so many other guests to come bearing gifts. They were all thoughtful, most of them being baskets of sweets along with flowers, in the full bloom of purple.

Hyacinth.

They wore on their fake smiles, drinking away their last bit of sorrows and enjoying the feast laid out, originally to celebrate the newly wedded couple. No one seemed to bother to ask about your lack of appearance because they already knew where you would be. Terzo slowly grew with agitation, hating the pity. It became obvious that no one truly cared, and tomorrow everything would resume as normal. All of it was a facade to seem like they were indulged. People are selfish and cruel, only caring for their well-being. Thinking to themselves, thank goodness that wasn’t me.

Perhaps it was the alcohol mixed with his vexation that made him think this way, and as he sat silently observing the crowd, it only burned deeper. Was there truly no one who cared for you? Thinking back to the scars of your ankles, no one was patient with you. The anger continues to grow as he grips his glass of wine tightly.

How could you be kept with such inhumane people? Surely you had a friend. Yes, he’s seen you mingle with a few siblings before. Why haven’t they said anything?

The selfish feelings were returning. Terzo wanted nothing more than to steal you away, and take you farther than you’ve ever been. Maybe for himself.

No, he can’t think like this. There’s a denial of his true feelings. He will never say them. Not even with his dying breath. He’s no better than the cruel crowd. He’s just one among them. And dear Copia, a trusting ally for many years. Copia belonged to you, and you to him. Terzo would never hurt his feelings intentionally. Then again, he just married you. Was this really an accident?

Of course, it was, he thought, taking a swig of dry wine. Terzo stopped mid-gulp, deciding these intrusive thoughts were the result of his drunkenness. How many drinks did he have?

He couldn’t help but think of you. He shouldn’t have left you alone in the bedroom. How silly of him.

Upon this realization, he rose from his seat only to be interrupted by a sharp hand. Weary, he looked to see a ghoul, motioning for him to follow. Terzo complied, worried it had to do with you. No one would miss his disappearance, but he’d hoped to have a word with the Cardinal in private. This mistake needed to be sorted out quickly, Terzo knew that. The true question is whether he wanted to.

Following through the dark corridors, at the end stood a strong figure, gray hair pulled back into a neat bun. Black eyeshadow painted around her eyelids, giving her stare a deadly feel. She looked at him intimidatingly. The ghoul left them to their private conversation.

Terzo greeted Sister Imperator graciously. She remained silent. He couldn’t tell what she was feeling. There was no sign of content or disappointment written across her face. Just the plain gaze and darkness of her eyes.

･ﾟ:*𖤐*:･ﾟ

Drunk and tired, Terzo returned to his room with no interruptions. His steps were uncoordinated and messy. There’d been an instance where he almost rammed himself into the wall by accident. Perhaps he should’ve kept track of his drinks. At this point, he wasn’t so sure he was going the right way anyway. These halls were too unfamiliar. Oh, but the exhaustion was too much to bear. He needed to lie down immediately.

Assuming the door was his own, he struggled to turn the knob. Not because it was locked, but his sense of perception was way off, he nearly missed the handle. Grabbing hold of it finally, as if his life depended on it, he kicked it open, tumbling down to his knees with a grunt. He hoisted himself up, confirming that it was indeed his room as he saw you lay uncomfortably on the couch. Closing the door, he stumbled over to you. There was a brief moment when everything became still. A fragile silence that could be broken to bits if he didn't move carefully. He only focused on your slow breathing. Again, this could be the result of extreme alcohol consumption, but seeing you sleep peacefully sparked a deep fondness.

His body began to sober up when he looked at you like you were his cure. Or maybe a drug.

Suddenly he became aware of his closeness, but he could only focus on you. He wanted to know what you were dreaming, thinking, and feeling. To feel your breath on his neck or on his lips. The vision was intoxicating. He craved more. He wanted to be you in your skin, engulfed with warmth. He needed to live inside you. Provide you with the passion you deserved. And how lonely those lips of yours looked. To kiss them would be a blessing. Terzo became desperate, but he knew his limitations. So, bringing his arm behind your knees and under your back, he lifted you with tenderness and ease, carrying you to more comfortable bedding.

His private chambers wore a velvet red carpet, laced with golden edges and the typical floral design. Careful to not wake you, he placed you close to the edge of the bed. In an instant, your body relaxed against the soft sheets.

There was an unsureness in his heart, slowly killing him as he brushed away the dried tears. He remained next to you, delicately pulling at the laces of your garments so you had more breathing access. It was entirely too tight. Having you lay on his bed was strange. Truthfully, it hadn’t been long since he had shared the bed with someone. Tonight that would change because most of them ended up bare under the covers. Regret might be the right word. Terzo didn’t want you to see him this way; a man whose only goal is to hurt others. Even today though, marrying you, disappointing the clergy, devastating his closest companion, and breaking the hearts of many others, could be the only thing he’s good at.

Terzo deserved none of it. His selfish feelings will cost him his soul. And as he sheepishly trudged away from your reach, with one last glance, he wanted the world to disappear. For now, Terzo will dream about the changes he wishes he could have made while you continue to dream about the life you could have had.

Tomorrow will be a better day.

𖤐 Chapter I, Chapter II, Chapter III, Chapter IV

other notes: This is just something I've been working on for a bit and never got around to posting. I hope it was OK! I'll try to post more frequently but life is kicking my ass rn

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jaysflix · 3 years ago

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Since requests are open, can I request some angst and fluff? 💕 first off I love you so much bby cakes and your writing is sooo nice and overall outstandingly beautiful, it’s like poetry and it’s so silky and valuable like water 💕

Can I request the ghouls +copia with gn reader who was forced into the Christian church, they were bullied and they ran away from it. But the ghouls find them outside and they invite them in, but reader feels supper uncomfy bc they think that they are undeserving of a good family, and they have always known that Satan was in their heart but too scared to admit it. Reader feels like they are covered in a layer of soot (Christianity and all of their prayers onto reader) and the ghouls help reader. They become readers family and it’s just one big platonic family.

Sorry. This was a very specific thing. It’s been stuck in my head and your writing is so Delicate and flawless I though if you weren’t busy you could write it?

But remember to drink water and get a good nights rest and don’t stress yourself out 💕💕💕❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

On it 🫡

Also can I just say I’m so happy with my first request AHH I already know how I’m going to start this so hang tight! I apologize for seeing this so late!!

And thank you so much for the compliments! It really motivates me to keep writing :))

I’ll try to have this up soon!

(P.s. never be sorry for being specific. I actually quite like it because I’m the type of person who needs specific detail/instructions to get things right 😭)

#cardinal copia #ghost sodo #sodo ghoul #the band ghost #ghost bc #ghost the band #ghost mountain #mountain ghoul #mountain ghost #aether #aether ghost #aether ghoul #cumulus ghoulette #cirrus ghoulette #rain ghost #rain ghoul #sunshine ghoulette #swiss ghoul #swiss army ghoul

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jaysflix · 3 years ago

Text

To my loving sweetheart

Genre: Angst

Warnings: none

Words: 420

Summary: Heartbreak letter/Poem from Papa (of your choosing)

Notes: made this drabble before my flight took off sorry for the errors but I was listening to Lana and just had this idea I needed to jot down

To my loving sweetheart, Whose beauty compares to nothing, Your uniqueness is no match for the gleaming eye I possess, Your grace blinds me to heart, I cannot think clearly until the image of you crosses my mind

To my loving sweetheart, These memories of you, I cherish, Despite the wicked language we’ve disputed, Know that I am forever regretful And that I will always be waiting for your return

The uglinesses that spewed from us Is nothing more of a confession that cleans our souls to the hilt This action—the most shattering Can only make us grow And learn from our mistakes To try again

To my loving sweetheart, Despite your long absence I have never stopped thinking of you once

To my loving sweetheart, Let it be known, that if God, oh merciful, was to bestow himself upon the very dirt I stand on, To deliver me a message; that I have been the subject of great catastrophe, That I have fallen into the tricks of Lucifer, Believe me when I say no ounce of holy prayer shall escape from my lips to repent this sin, For it has given me a new kind of devotion

To know that I was chosen by the dark excellence that is you It is something worth more than the mere life of sad little me

If this heartbreak stems from Him, Then let it be For I am forever grateful that it was me That experienced every vein in my body Be pulled like thread from the bobbin

And if I were given the chance to live it all over again, To see my heart ripped from the cage, If it meant being with you again, My dear, What I’d do to see you Just once more

This ache, This dwell, Is only fuel for the fire

To my loving sweetheart, The darkness has never felt more comforting And one day, when I descend the staircase You will wait for me on your throne With an empty seat beside you

Together, my sweet, I hope we make great rulers of the pit

This love I carry Will never go to waste I only ever pray to thee That I won’t be forgotten

Forgive my greed and desire My only wish is that you’ll return to me soon So I can die with you Again

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jaysflix · 3 years ago

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How is my bby? DRINK WATER AND EAT SOME FRUIT ❤️💕🫶🏻💕❤️

Hi love! I’m doing well thank you so much for asking <3 I promise I’m still writing, I’ve just been traveling for a bit so my free time is a bit limited. I have so many ideas for future one-shots and (hopefully) a story! I return home tomorrow so I have high hopes that I will have something up and ready maybe by next weekend or earlier.

Again, thank you for the check in! I hope everything is okay with you too <3 get good rest and stay healthy ❤️

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jaysflix · 3 years ago

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The Killing Moon

Hello! So sorry for the late post, but I've been all over the place with scrapping other writings and work, I couldn't find the time to write something I liked. Howeverrr, I wanted to post something today to celebrate this lovely holiday, so here is some Dracopia x Reader :)

Genre: Romance, angst

Summary: You noticed something off about the bushes, and felt someone staring back

Pairing: Dracopia / Reader

Warnings: death/mentions of death, blood

Words: 1,685

Other Notes: This was heavily inspired by Echo & the Bunnymen's song. I really recommend! Also apologies in advance for misspellings and repetition of words, I was rushing and didn't proofread!

･ﾟ:*𖤐*:･ﾟ

It was only after midnight when he saw you clearly in the midst of the garden. You sat, dressed in white, singing a quiet song of prayer while sleep abandoned you. The gargoyles stared into nothingness as they enjoyed your tune. At this specific time, when the air was crisp and the sky was clear, he sat among them—not listening but staring deep into your skin. He’d think about where he wanted to feast on first: your neck, perhaps? No, it was too obvious. Maybe your shoulder, or would you enjoy that too much?

He was a perfectionist, living in his head of imagination to make sure his plan would go accordingly:

The kill would be painfully slow so he could cherish the moment your eyes became lifeless and your body went limp in his arms. Almost a romantic scene, he thought. But first, he wanted to see you writhe underneath his touch. He’d control you. Corrupt you. Taint your blood.

The moon was big and bright with a gleaming red shade at its full potential. There, you sat. Here, beneath a cloak of thorns, he stared hungrily and waited patiently as you continued your nightly routine. How could I approach this, he wondered. All the nights spent staring at your ghostly figure were wasted due to his incomplete arrangements. Perhaps he ought to tempt you.

You sensed him before yet said nothing. To any sane person, his eye would’ve been alarming, but curiosity took hold before any hint of fear. At first, you were certain it was a critter until it never made a move. This recurring encounter convinced you that it was indeed a human species of sorts with a shy nature. You knew animals well and didn’t seek them out until it was comfortable with your presence. Then, when the time was right, it would come to you, and a reward shall be granted. But weeks of coming out to pray in the night proved to be useless, so tonight you decided to slowly approach it without causing a fright.

Ending prayer, a silent breath whistled from your nostrils. If this encounter meant an escape from everlasting conformity, God had sent an angel.

Copia’s head could not find silence once you’d stood, straying across the garden. Though he sees you clearly from the bench, the beauty positioned in front of the thicket left him stunned. You were clearer now. His fingers twitched, out of fear or hunger, he didn’t know. There was no heartbeat strong enough to determine how he felt, but a pit in his stomach grew in fractions. This wasn’t his plan.

An eye pierced through yours. No ounce of fear controlled you. Only interest.

“Hello,” A gloved hand quickly slapped his mouth and covered his nose. Your sweet chastity was filling his senses too quickly for him to resist, but he still made an effort. He didn't utter a sound, hoping you would just walk away and never come back.

You began again, “Why must you hide in the bushes?”

No, why must he feel this way? Why must you be such a guiltless sight before him? Any creature would be graced with your company, but here you were, appearing as prey in front of a predator. He couldn’t contain the slick that filled his mouth, over his lips.

Between the spaces the leaves would allow you to look through, his clothing blended with the dark shadows, except for the silver lining of a brooch on his chest that seemed to call to you. Trailing the rest of his fabric, up to his shoulders, you noticed a black cloth draped nicely with a maroon interior.

Smiling small, you continued in hopes of getting a word in return. “You wear a beautiful cloak. Are you cold?”

A small crack of a twig's spine indicated his escape. He could not bear to listen to your sweet voice for longer and realized now why the sculptures loved to stay. How he was starving for you. It’d shaken him too much, and now that you’ve seen him, he had no choice. If anyone were to find out about his existence…

Oh, but you, such a pure innocence. Even a creature as cruel as he could not muster the strength to sink his teeth into your flesh.

“Please don’t run!” Shock gushed through him as you opened a passage to see him fully. Though the moon could not capture him in the light, you saw all you needed to see. “Demon.” You blurted. Copia sank to his knees,

“No!” He attempted to shield himself from the wicked gaze of the audience. The gray frowned upon reveal, he mistook the howl of wind for their judgment. “I won’t hear it!”

Now you stood in horror, regretting your tongue. You came in closer, hesitant to ease him in such a state. You sucked in a sharp breath, feeling a strong grip on your thighs.

Copia’s gloved fingers desperately clawed at the hem of your nightgown, staining the white with black smudges from his paint. His face planted in your legs, like a child finding comfort, shying away from the world. You didn’t stop it, stroking his peppery hair which illuminated in the moonlight.

He could smell you even stronger in this position. Though he was starving, he couldn’t help the invisible tears that stung his eyes. He hadn’t felt anyone else in so long, Copia was afraid if he moved that you’d leave him to freeze.

Kneeling to his level, your hands moved from his hair to his cheeks, lifting him to look at his eye. The coldness of his skin sent shivers down your spine. His lips parted slightly, uncovering the sharp tip of his canines. You could see him scanning your face, trying to read what you were feeling. He softened at your words,

“You are not what I was told a demon to be. No, you are lovely.”

If only he wasn’t a demon. Then, what would you have thought of him? To be in this body, dead but alive, was a curse. Anger was all he knew from the moment he rose from his grave. Until he’d met you, the true beauty of an angel from a being he never believed in. No amount of evil ever laced your words.

He knew that if he leaned in now, he would be selfish and never let you go. Something incoherent he whispered, looking directly at the floor to avoid your skin. You hummed in question,

“Leave me.” He repeated sternly before rising to his feet with you mirroring him. He turned his face away, showing no sign of emotion despite him missing the warmth of your fingertips.

There was no room in his cold heart for you. Hatred, hunger, and fear controlled him. Love will never be a feeling he longed to feel ever again. He never wanted this life. He’d only wanted to fulfill his righteous duties. Now he roams the grounds of a deity, the one whom he spent his life defying only to fall for one of his many children.

Copia’s internal struggle became evident in your eyes, seeing clearly thanks to his angle. Like a raccoon, black paint smudged heavily around his eyes, and some on his top lip. It was unique, almost mesmerizing. You caught his face again, forcing him to look at you directly,

“I won’t.” Without warning you could feel the cold wetness on his gloves around your neck, blocking your airway. You didn’t have time to gasp, however, he could see the expression of surprise. You’d tipped him over to the edge, his hunger lingering on his tongue. He couldn’t control it. No matter how hard he tried to restrain himself, he needed to feast on your flesh.

Barely a scream made it out of your throat once his teeth penetrated your skin. The feeling burned deep into your veins, like venom.

To him, you were his venom, intoxicating whatever streamed through his body. He was almost drunk on you, losing himself to the amount of blood he consumed.

The fabric was loose on him, showing how thin and starved he really was. Bones sharply moved against your body as he shied closer to get a good gulp, his fingers loosening so you could breathe. You shuddered a satisfied gasp, your vision getting blurry as your eyes began to develop hot tears.

It wasn’t a pleasant feeling, but somehow you felt gratitude. You were happy to be serving him, a dark beast because it was different from what you were used to. You were tired of devoting yourself to someone of hypocrisy and being around people with so much hatred. Tonight, you’re more than willing to submit yourself to this beautiful creature of the night.

Again, you found your fingers softly intertwined in his hair, encouraging him to take more. He let go, shaking his head,

“Forgive me, topino.” He heard you let out a breathy laugh. He felt horrible for the action, scooping your frail body and laying you down on his lap for more comfort. One arm held your back, hoisting you up so your head rested against his shoulder. You reached for him again, no longer seething at his cold touch, welcoming it instead.

“It’s alright.” You whispered, brushing the stray strands of hair from his face, smiling, “You’re the prettiest thing I’ve seen.”

He didn’t respond, simply startled at the compliment he’s never received before. Even with his betrayal, you still remained such a kind soul. Like a soft rose, blossoming deep within his core. There was something fuzzy about it, yet there were no thorns along the growing vines. Nothing harmed him inside. He’d felt a warmth he longed to feel again. Yes, no evil could ever take your gentleness.

This emotion was vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t put a finger on it. The words lingered in his mind before you ran cold, hand dropping down to his shoulder loosely. And as he saw the color drain from your lively eyes, he declared that the feeling was in fact, love.

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