#leather cassock

[forgelokid]

Cardinal Copia with the leather cassock because why not? Should I do a Popia version?

This pose is everything. Reference pics under the cut.

@thebandghostofficial

[Twitter] [Tips]

This picture of Popia lives in my head rent free.

[moon-in-the-gutter]

Aesthetics: The Papas

• Cardinal Edition •

+ Cardinal Copia & Black +

// credit to @kaerujaki for the art in bottom row middle! It’s a stunning piece and I highly recommend checking out the rest of their art! 🖤 click for higher quality //

[delulluart]

More Papas (ft. the infamous leather Cassock) and a cuddly Cardinal

[writingjourney]

a message from the bulletin board | cardinal copia x gn!reader

summary: the ministry’s bulletin board, ordinarily used for missing items or party announcements, contains a particularly interesting request this week – a lonely hearts ad.

content: 9k words, gn!reader, slightly suggestive at times, first date/first kiss shenanigans, sad lonely awkward cardinal fluff, you know the drill

Masterlist – Ao3 link

You ignore the knot of people in front of the bulletin board.

As much as the whispers and giggles garner your attention, someone else attracts it even more. Cardinal Copia, red cassock, red biretta, arms filled with two boxes worth of files and papers, is trying to push the door to his office open with his hip under a swell of Italian curses. Certainly, his hip swing is impressive on most days, especially on stage, but today it seems more like a helpless, uncoordinated bumping that the door is fighting with every ounce of its wooden strength.

Evidently, he’s struggling.

“Good morning, Cardinal, do you need a hand?”

His eyebrows shoot up when he hears your voice and he stops dead in his tracks, slowly turning his head until he catches you standing right behind him. Despite your announcement, he visibly startles, nearly dropping the boxes in his arms.

“Oh, eh… yes, if you could open the door for me, Sibling?”

“Of course.”

With your hand on the knob, you watch as he hurries inside of his office, wheezing under the weight and dropping the boxes onto his desk with a dull thud that echoes loudly in his mostly bare working space. Apart from books upon books strewn across and around his desk as well as an old weathered couch, there hasn’t been any love put into decorating the space. You wait patiently for him to turn back around to you, a hint of red dusting his cheeks when he finally does.

“Thank you,” he squeezes out, trying very hard to swallow his heavy exhales. “I carried them here all the way from the archives. Long way, you know, even for my…” He holds up his arm, flexing it exaggeratedly. “My strong, powerful muscles.”

You giggle and he perks up in delight, eyes wide and shiny. “No problem, Cardinal, I can imagine they’re very heavy.” 

You smile at him and he smiles back, so sweetly, and you’re momentarily at an equal loss for words. A bead of sweat rolls down his forehead, down the prominent bridge of his nose. He brushes it away with a leather-gloved hand and you can’t help but stare as he wipes it clean on the heavy fabric of his vestments, shaking out his fingers once he’s done. You can’t look away as they flex and release, flex and release. They’re surprisingly long and so… nimble.

Copia’s violent cough startles you awake and you’re not sure if it’s his own nerves that make him clear his throat, if his overexerted lungs are protesting or if he caught you staring. Either way, you feel your own cheeks getting hot now, the moment of hesitant silence slowly transitioning into a gooey sort of awkwardness.

“So, ugh… I better get back to my own duties,” you say. “Lots to do, spring cleaning and all that.”

He nods. “Yes, yes, you are busy, of course. Such a busy little bee. Bzz bzz. Hehe.”

You awkwardly giggle back, trying hard to think of a clever joke. Maybe something that has to do with stinging? But before you can settle on one, the time for a witty come-back has stretched thin and so you just awkwardly wave at him, mutter a “see you later” and close the door.

With your back pressed to the wood, you let out a deep exhale, the butterflies – or bees – in your stomach making it very hard to breathe at a normal pace. Once you’ve recollected your wits, you notice that the hallway is still as busy as before, maybe even busier.

Like lions gathering around an animal carcass after days of starvation, what feels like half the abbey has been flocking to the big rectangular corkboard. You cannot possibly imagine what would warrant such intense interest. The most exciting messages on any given day are unusual sex requests, the invitation to a weirdly themed party or a call for applications to a particularly intricate sex ritual to honour the Dark One.

You push through the crowd to check what’s causing the repeated giggling and excited whispers amongst your peers when you spot a pristine piece of paper on the board. It’s thick, stark-white, shaped like a heart at the top and with pieces to rip off at the bottom that contain a phone number. You squint, move in even closer until you can make out the text – hand-written and in cursive.

I (m, 50) am looking for a partner to spend the rest of my life with. I don’t have any preferences but it would be coolio if we had similar interests, so we can have some fun together.

I like: watching movies, playing video games, going on walks, rigatoni, juice, small animals

I don’t like: coconut flavour, being barefoot, swimming, touching wet dishes, bullies, dentist appointments

If you think we are a good match I would like to take you on a romantic date. Please call or text me.  Bye bye!

You smile at the note but quickly find back down to earth when someone rams their elbow into your side. No one has taken one of the numbers yet, so you assume the excitement is more about the fact that there is a lonely hearts ad on the bulletin board at all than any actual interest in the person. You have to admit, it is a bit odd. Most younger clergy members just use dating apps these days or social media. But the lonely heart in question is fifty, so they may not be familiar with modern methods, and it’s oddly endearing that anyone would go through the trouble of creating such an ad. At the same time, it breaks your heart that someone in the abbey is so lonely that they risk the ridicule of half of the clergy members just to have a chance at finding love.

“Well, there are a bunch of people who it could be,” you overhear someone say. “Maybe one of the older Brothers, a bunch of them are single. Could also be that new bishop who just arrived, I heard he’s a cinephile and walks around the gardens quite often.”

You ignore the whispers of speculation, making your way back through the crowd to return to your duties. It’s almost dinner time by now and you need to get two more loads of laundry done before then. But even as you sort through piles of habits, cassocks and veils… you can’t stop thinking about the ad. You sincerely hope the person receives a few serious and not just prank calls. The note did sound endearing and you definitely see similarities. At the same time you’re far too busy nursing your hopeless crush on the Cardinal to actually entertain the thought of dating someone else. 

You decide to check on the ad again tomorrow, see if anyone took a number, and if not, you could at least save it to your phone… just in case.

✦ ✧ ✦ 

Two birds land on his window sill, rubbing their beaks together in a kiss before happily chirping at each other. They’re in love, literal love birds, building a nest on the little protrusion in the wall right below his window. He’s been watching them occasionally, unreasonably envious, as they bring in twig after twig, ready to start their family. From the same window, Copia can make out the spring-filled gardens with their colourful patches of pink and red tulips, bumblebees hurrying from blossom to blossom, drunk on pollen and greedy for more. He can overlook the bright green meadow leading down to the pond, speckled with lush, budding trees. At this time of the day, after everyone finished their daily duties, the grass has almost completely disappeared under a plethora of picnic blankets.

Spring fever, he assumes, has to be the reason why everyone seems to be in love. Couples dozing in each other’s arms in the shade of the trees, feeding their lovers berries or grapes, taking a stroll down to the pond with their joined hands dangling between them, kissing without pause in the archways of the cool stone walkways leading outside. Just now he spots two Sisters rubbing sunscreen on each other’s bare shoulders, one of them kissing the other's head before they fall back onto their blanket, giggling happily at each other.

He feels so incredibly lonely.

This has been going on for weeks now and he’s tired of feeling so shamefully worthless of affection. Instead of the arms of his lover, he sinks into his tattered old desk chair and drowns his sorrows in boring paperwork. Not that that’s going well, but for lack of alternatives, he’d rather do budget calculations than sit in his quarters all alone. Every evening, the spring breeze carries the sound of happy laughter through his windows, usually while he’s playing video games all by himself, but he can’t keep them closed if he doesn’t want to sweat to death. Besides… that same gentle breeze is the only thing caressing his skin as he tries to fall asleep at night and if he closes his eyes, the wind almost feels like fingertips ghosting over his arms.

As he leaves his office that night, he receives another heavy but sadly much expected blow. Almost a week now and still no one has taken one of the numbers from his lonely hearts ad. Of course it doesn’t mean no one saved it to his phone, he tells himself, people are shy or they just don’t want to date an anonymous person. It has nothing to do with him, they don’t even know it’s him. And yet… if his dating streak continues so poorly, he’s not sure if he can stay sane for much longer. There are only so many tears you can cry in bed at night before it starts to take a toll on you.

His heart is especially heavy as he makes his way to his lonely quarters. One more day and then he’s taking it down, he decides. No use in waiting any longer now that surely everyone in the abbey has seen his request and the last thing he wants are pity calls.

✦ ✧ ✦ 

“So, are you going to call the Cardinal?”

You look up from your breakfast plate. Your friend Lily is sitting opposite of you, chewing on a blueberry muffin, and you narrow your eyes at her. “The Cardinal?”

“The number in the lonely hearts ad,” she says. “It’s still there, I checked earlier.”

“It’s the Cardinal?”

She nods, popping another piece of muffin into her mouth. “Duh.”

You feel your cheeks heating up and set your fork down to hide the sudden tremor in your fingers. “Which Cardinal?”

She gives a soft groan of annoyance. “Babe, there is only one of the Cardinals who would ever hang up such a goofy thing. Now, will you call him?”

Copia. She knows about your… slight infatuation with him. And despite being kind and not teasing you too much, it was just a matter of time until the occasion popped up. If he is looking for a serious partner… maybe it’s too late for you soon. The ad has been up for days and while you’ve been toying with the idea of calling, you just haven’t found the courage yet.

You continue eating, trying to act casual, but it takes you three attempts to pick up a stray piece of cucumber from your plate. “How do you even know it’s his number?”

Lily takes a deep breath, setting the muffin down to ready herself. “Sooo, Michael wanted to call the number to check who it is, right? Well, turns out his girlfriend already knew it’s the Cardinal’s number and his girlfriend is Sister Jill who knows it from Sister Mary who is roommates with Sibling Jessie who works with the treasury and their colleague Brother Paul works as the Cardinal’s assistant two times a week and that’s how he has the Cardinal’s number for emergencies.”

“Oh.”

“Yes, oh. Now, will you?”

Eyes on your empty plate, you bite your lip until you can taste blood. It’s Copia’s number, the number of your crush of about six months now, and he’s looking for a partner, unspecified. That’s… big news, intimidating news, news that calls to an action you’re not sure you’re prepared for.

Glancing at Lily, you catch her smirking at you and promptly give her a scowl. “I don’t know. What if he already got better options?”

She cocks her head to the side. “Better than you? I doubt it.”

“You’re biased because you’re my friend.”

A shrug. “You should try. What’s the worst that can happen?”

“He could be disappointed.”

“He’s more disappointed if no one calls,” she counters.

“Yeah but–”

You stop yourself when you see Nora, Lily’s girlfriend, approaching the table. Her arms wrap around Lily from behind as she presses a loud, lingering kiss to her cheek, both of them giggling.

“You scared me,” Lily says, turning around for a proper kiss.

“Sorry, love, but I can’t leave breakfast without my sweet treat.”

You avert your gaze, involuntarily feeling like an intruder. They’ve been together for a few weeks now, sickeningly adorable. Lily had been pining after Nora for months, a little bit like you with the Cardinal, only that she eventually found the courage to ask her out. To see her bravery being rewarded like that makes you incredibly happy for both of them. But at the same time… you have rarely ever felt your loneliness so sharply, the heaviness of your unreciprocated crush such a weight on your shoulders.

You know that if you want this to be you and the Cardinal, then there’s only one real answer to her question: You have to reach out to him.

✦ ✧ ✦ 

He’s ready to toss this day into the trash bin already and he only just got up. 

Last night, after tossing and turning for hours, Copia fell asleep only to promptly land in a hysterically embarrassing dream that made him jolt up whimpering like a kicked dog and hiding his face in the pillow. Bringing himself close to suffocation, he finally realised that he had not actually stumbled right in front of you, spilling juice all over his robes, scrambling to get up only to slip in the puddle by his feet, falling onto his butt with a high-pitched cry. You had been standing there motionless, watching the spectacle unfold until you turned around to leave.

This is the reaction he would expect, should he ever actually find the courage to ask you out. However, this is highly doubtful, because upon walking to his office half an hour later, he catches you with a group of friends. He often sees you with them – attractive young Siblings, evident chemistry between all of you, and every week he suspects a different one to be in love with you. He recognizes the two Sisters he saw from his window earlier this week. One of them presses a loving kiss to the other’s cheek and he wishes he could just walk up to you and do the same.

His heart hurts. No matter how much kindness you extend to him, you’re a beautiful young soul who could never be romantically interested in an aging loner. Copia is not disliked per se, he gets along with pretty much everyone, but he struggles to build meaningful connections. Between working his butt off to satisfy the clergy and spending time on his mostly solitary hobbies, it’s hard to meet people. He had to actively put himself out there but neither online dating nor any of the singles’ events Terzo sent him on brought any results – only what the young Siblings call getting “ghosted” or “benched”.

His ad is his last chance. And even that failed miserably.

As he ponders his options, your eyes suddenly meet his and he swears you’re smiling. Then you lift your hand in a cautious wave. For a second, he’s too scared to wave back because there are people around him, all of which could be your target. Your hand sinks after a moment as your smile slowly straightens and he suddenly knows that you do mean him. He lifts his hand far too excitedly in a reciprocative wave. Your smile returns, a shy one, but before he can even think about possibly approaching you, his knees suddenly give out.

No, they don’t give out, someone rams a trolly filled with supplies for Black Mass into him. Some of the tall candles roll off the top and clatter to the floor, breaking in half just like his dignity. 

“Oops, sorry, Cardinal,” the Sibling says, scrambling to help him up. “It’s so hard to steer this thing.”

“It’s fine,” he chokes out, the pain in his knees anything but fine. “It happens.”

“I’m truly so sorry.”

He smiles, a hand on their shoulder now that he’s on his feet again. “It is okay, eh? No worries.”

When his eyes try to find you again, you’re not there anymore and he can’t decide if he’s relieved or sad. He prays to Satan that you didn’t see him fall but there is no way you missed it. His dream, if slightly watered-down, did come true after all and perhaps now you won’t want to–

“Cardinal, are you alright?” 

Copia, still dizzy and skittish, spins around so hard he nearly stumbles again. He smooths out his now crumpled cassock, the dust he collected on the floor even more visible on today’s black vestments. In an attempt to retain his dignity, he straightens his spine and looks right into your beautiful eyes. You have a tendency to startle him like that and he wishes he could be more smooth about these encounters.

“Yes, yes, Sibling, thank you. It was… it was nothing, just a little stumble, eh?”

“Are you sure?” You inspect him from head to toe, your brow creased in concern. “It looked painful. Your knees…”

“Oh, my knees are fine!” he lies. “I kneel all the time, Sibling. You know this.” Your eyes widen and he continues to stammer. “I mean in prayer. I pray a lot. On my knees. I am a Cardinal, yes? It’s my job.”

 You nod heavily. “Yes, of course.”

“So, ugh… I better just fuck off.” He presses his lips together to keep more silly words from coming out. “I mean I’ll go back to work. ”

As he tries to leave, your hand shoots up, squeezing the muscles in his forearm. He’s not as much startled as enthralled by your touch, so unexpected that he has no time to feel insecure but so welcome that it almost feels natural to have your fingers on his arm. He swears there is a hint of nervousness in your eyes now and despite knowing it’s silly, his heart wants to interpret it as bashfulness.

“Cardinal, please. I… ugh…” 

You look beautiful from up close. Even if you weren’t stuttering he’d have a hard time listening to your words. It seems like you stopped breathing, your cheeks now a sweet shade of rosy, and you open your mouth to speak but no words come out. Eventually, you shake your head and run your fingers over the fabric of his sleeve. He thinks he’s about to pass out, his nerves rising until he can feel his heartbeat all the way up to his neck. Your hand is so gentle, so… affectionate.

“I’m sorry, Cardinal. I don’t mean to keep you. I was just thinking that I really like the black cassock. It suits you.”

A compliment. His mind is racing. This is not what you really wanted to say, he can tell, but he grins anyway. You like his cassock? Well, you should wait until you see him in a suit. Maybe on a date. He should ask, he realises. This is the moment he’s been waiting for for months now. But as he continues to stare at you his tongue becomes too heavy to form the words, and then your hand is suddenly gone and takes his courage right with it.

“Thank you, Sibling,” he says instead. “I also really like your ugh… your outfit.”

Only when the words leave his mouth does he realise it’s the same everyday habit you’re wearing all the time. Somehow, the silly compliment still manages to conjure a smile onto your face and so he stops berating himself because he made you smile. The sight stuns him, butterflies erupting in his already nervous stomach.

“I’ll see you later, Cardinal,” you say then, your eyes leaving his to glance down the hallway where your friends are waiting, beckoning for you to hurry.

Copia nods and he looks down at your hand in silent fascination, staring at your fingers that are dangling by your thigh without any use as if he could magically make them touch his arm again. “Yes, yes. See you,” he mumbles. “Bye bye.”

When he looks back up, you’re already hurrying off. Copia stays frozen, his gaze trailing after you as though his eyes are glued to your form. Even when you’re out of sight it takes him a while to start moving, to start breathing again.

Around him, the hallway slowly empties as everyone starts to tend to their respective duties. Copia can’t help but feel the nagging disappointment about not asking you out. A chance like this won’t suddenly appear again and even if you refused him it would still be less humiliating than the untouched ad at the bulletin board. He should take it off right now, he figures.

Only when he enters the hallway leading to his office, something looks off about the postings. He notices the change from the corner of his eye at first as he walks past the large corkboard. More party flyers have appeared, someone took down the “diamond butt plug set missing” request that had been hanging there since an orgy in the Siblings’ wing went wrong last month. Instead, Copia notices a large poster promoting condom usage that partly covers the request underneath. Which is how he recognises it.

His ad. 

And one of the numbers is missing.

Copia nearly lets out a loud squeal as realisation dawns on him like the gentle spring sun rising over the hills every morning, bringing warmth and happiness after a cold, dark night. It seems like Cupid finally answered his prayers, like Aphrodite found sweet mercy for him.

Someone took his number. Someone wants to reach out to him.

For the rest of the day, he feels like he swallowed a swarm of bees, staring at his phone like it’s going to light up any second. Which it could. He could receive the message or call that changes his life any second now. Any second. Any… any second.

Nothing happens. Not in the next hour, not in the next two hours. All day, in fact, his phone stays quiet. His initial happiness deflates like a balloon. As he heads towards his quarters that evening, he observes how everyone piles into the dining hall, their happy laughter and cheerful spirits spoiling his usually solid appetite. He hates the sour feeling of envy in his stomach but he can’t help but suspect that everyone conspired against him.

Copia decides to skip dinner in order to cry into a big bowl of gelato. His nightmare might not have come true but his brain tortures him with pictures of your smiling face instead, with the phantom feeling of your warm hand lingering on his arm, and he can’t help but feel crushed anyway. He’d sell his soul to come home to you, to eat with you, sit with you, watch silly movies with you, fall asleep with you in his arms and wake up with your smile as the first thing he gets to see every day. It becomes increasingly clear to him that every day he misses out on being with you is a day tragically lost.

If only he was brave enough to change that.

✦ ✧ ✦ 

You’ve been pacing your bedroom for the better part of the evening now, back and forth and back and forth to the point where you’re seriously concerned about wearing down your carpet. The day passed uneventfully apart from your encounter with Copia in the hallway where you made a complete fool of yourself. You would have loved to skip all of the unnecessary fuss of texting back and forth but you barely spoke more than two words to him before you chickened out. Surely, if his interest in you was romantic, he could just ask you out instead of advertising himself on a public corkboard?

In any case, you’ve been typing out messages for over an hour now, deleting every single one of them only to throw your phone onto the bed multiple times before picking it back up to risk another attempt.

The reason you haven’t given up yet is that Lily knows you have his number now. Last night, when you thought everyone was asleep, you snuck out of your dorm feeling like James Bond with your torch and black clothing, tiptoeing down the empty corridors of the abbey. You didn’t want anyone spreading any premature rumors but a part of you was hesitant to take one of the numbers at all. Even if you called him, it wasn’t certain that he’d want to go on a date with you.

Still, you ripped off one of the thumb-sized pieces of paper and headed back – only to promptly run into Lily as she snuck out to meet Nora. You’re never going to forget her self-satisfied grin as she spotted you with the crumpled number between your fingers.

Begging your creative juices to start flowing, you stare at the empty message box. Perhaps you should be funny. You wonder if he knows the Piña Colada song. It is about a lonely hearts ad after all and he’s a musician. You type and type, delete and retype until you end on a rough draft to show Lily when she gets home. But no, upon rethinking, the joke is too silly even for you and there’s probably a better way to phrase this–

“Hey, have you called him yet?”

You jump, your heart rate doubling in shock. Lily appears in the open doorway and her voice startles you so fiercely that you clutch your phone to your chest. To your utter horror, the swishing sound of a sent message reaches your ear as your palm connects with the touchscreen, and when you glance down, the bubble with your typed out message sits at the top of your chat history.

“Oh no,” you whisper.

“What?”

“I sent my stupid silly joke message to him.”

Lily picks your phone from your hands, reading the solitary message from the display. “Well, at least now you’ll know if he shares your weird sense of humour?”

You grasp her shoulder and release a deep, throaty groan. Her words don’t calm you in the slightest, if anything, they only make it worse.

✦ ✧ ✦ 

Driving Miss Daisy can’t distract him anymore.

Every two minutes Copia reaches for his phone to check for any missed texts or calls only to have the gapingly empty home screen staring back at him. He never figured out how to change the pre-set wallpaper. Perhaps he could try again when he has a cute couple picture of him and his future partner. The thought makes him smile. It’s one of many little things he would change – if they only called.

Despite putting it on vibrate, he doesn’t trust the device to inform him of any news. He even carried it to the toilet twice already, just in case something happens while he’s gone. His ice cream doesn’t satisfy him tonight, everything feels bland and devoid of flavour, but he refills his bowl anyway. One big spoon and a bit of spray cream… and as he walks back over to his bed, he realises that he should definitely check his phone again because this took way longer than two minutes.

Right as he pulls the device out his pocket, it vibrates violently in his hand. For a moment he is so shocked to see a message pop up that he throws it away. It lands on his bed, bouncing a few times, display still lit up with one new notification glaring at him from the centre of his screen.

He takes a deep breath. This is real. He got a message.

No, he can’t look at it, he’s going to lose his nerves. A few more deep inhales and slow exhales, then he can’t fight the suspension any longer. 

Hey, stranger :) You don’t like coconut, so you probably don’t like Piña Coladas, but maybe I’m still the love that you look for?  I would love to go on a date with you, if you are still looking for one. 

It takes him a second, then another one. The ice cream melts in his bowl as it sits forgotten on the floor next to his bed. Suddenly it clicks and he chuckles, in relief as well as amusement, thinking that he knows that song, that he gets the reference. That means this person is funny. They made a joke. He smiles to himself. A funny person wants to go on a date with him.

He types back, deleting, typing again. After five minutes, he comes up with a reply.

Hello, stranger! 👋🏼 I do not like Piña Coladas 🍹 but I have many better things to offer if you want to go on a picnic 🧺 with me tomorrow? I will bring food 🥪 and drinks 🧃 of course. Hopefully we do not get caught in the rain 💦😀

He thinks about how he could sign the message but then his nerves start to kick in. If he tells the person who he is, they may reconsider their choice to go out with him and that’s the last thing he wants. Even if the date doesn’t go well, he wants to try his best, so he shoots another message after the first: 

Oh. It will be a blind date, if that is okay with you?

The next minute is the longest of his life. An eternity passes. He thinks he might have stopped breathing with how tight his chest feels. That is, until his phone lights up and shows the same number again, wringing a deep sigh of relief from him.

That’s fine with me. Where do we meet?

The squeal he lets out vibrates in his chest and bounces off the walls.

He’s got a date. Finally.

✦ ✧ ✦ 

Copia hears his bad conscience somewhere in the back of his mind whispering that blocking the best spot in the gardens all day is selfish. Perhaps it is true, perhaps he feels a little selfish today. And yes, besides feeling selfish he also feels a little guilty. Is it fair to go on a date when he has such a horrible crush on someone else? No. No, it’s not fair. But he can’t let another chance at love run through his fingers like sand on the beach. He simply has to grasp this opportunity.

His red-checked blanket lays untouched underneath the tall chestnut tree, its big, hand-shaped leaves rustling in the soft breeze as he approaches. The head of a rat is stitched into all four corners  of the fabric – a gift from Sister for his latest birthday – and it’s been sitting here since nine o’clock when he took the liberty of… reserving… the spot. He picked the north-side of the tree so that the shade falls exactly where he’s going to be sitting with his date in approximately fifteen minutes. If they prefer the sun, he can just pull the blanket over a little, but he’d never forgive himself if they got sunburn because of him.

Copia took the day off, his first day off all year in fact, risking his next employee of the month award to spend all morning in town, running errands. With the end of May and strawberry season starting, he visited every grocery store within walking distance to find the ripest, juiciest ones they offered. He was lucky enough to obtain a small basket filled with the most delicious-looking red fruits and some additional fresh ingredients for his sandwiches. While he was quick-witted enough to ask about his date’s allergies yesterday, he completely forgot to ask them about their favorite snacks and so he’s decided to just bring anything he could think of that wouldn’t melt in the sun.

The basket he packed feels heavy in his hand for that exact reason and when he sets it down on the blanket, he can feel the strain in his arm. The past hour was spent obsessing over his outfit until he decided to just go for the white suit combo. Yes, white fabric near grass and juicy red fruits is not the most brilliant idea, but he wants to look his best and that means going the extra mile, even if he has to wear the tiny, itchy underwear underneath.

His heartbeat is going a mile a minute now. He can’t unpack yet, he doesn’t want the food to be out for too long, and so he sits and waits, his hands sweaty under his black and white leather gloves. The fact that the gardens around him slowly become crowded as the afternoon rolls around does nothing for his nerves. He can feel the curious glances, can hear the hushed whispers, and as the hour nears, he starts sweating even more despite the shade. If the unanswered ad had been embarrassing, being stood up so publicly would be even worse. 

And then the most horrifying thing ever happens.

Copia sees you walking along the path, wearing a weather-appropriate, slightly dressed-up outfit that makes his eyes involuntarily roam your whole form. But he can’t fully focus on your loveliness. At first, he’s panicking that you’re meeting your friends somewhere close by where you could see him with his date. He would be so embarrassed, so distracted, so uncomfortable. But you walk straight towards him and that’s even worse. If he has to tell you that he’s busy meeting someone else he might spontaneously combust, explode into tiny particles of humiliation. It would ruin everything, his date and his crush on you. What if his date shows up and sees you with him? What if–

Oh no, you don’t stop approaching, you don’t take a turn, you walk up straight to where he’s waiting – with a hint of hesitation, yes, but very directed steps. Copia jumps up immediately, his black hat nearly falling from his head.

“Oh, Sibling,” he stammers, lifting a trembling hand to adjust his fedora. “Hello, hi. Are you spending some time outside today as well?”

Your mouth opens and you wring your hands before hiding them behind your back. “Hello, Cardinal. I ugh… I’m supposed to meet someone here under the chestnut tree.”

Copia furrows his brow, slowly registering your words. “Meet someone. Under the chestnut tree.” 

“Yes.”

“Oh, Satan. It’s you?” He stops, stares, comprehends. He sounds incredulous, his voice a higher pitch than usual. “You’re my stranger?”

You nod, big eyes staring into his mismatched ones in silent expectation, hope and fear muddled together in the crease of your brow. He doesn’t know how to react, just rubs his thumb and index finger together as his mind races faster than speed limit.

“Is this… is this bad?” you finally ask, breaking the awkward silence.

“No!” Copia exclaims. “No, no, no. Please, please sit.”

You do, kneeling down on the blanket a little hesitantly. Copia joins you, still not fully trusting his senses. This feels like a hallucination. His disbelief has to be the only reason he hasn’t passed out yet. Is he really on a date with you right now?

After another moment of silence, Copia notices you eyeing the basket and snaps back into reality. His plans, his very detailed plans for how this date is supposed to go, flood his mind and he remembers the first step now. Swallowing his shock, he sits up a little straighter.

“Ah, eh… yes, I got you something.” He reaches behind the basket and procures three deep red roses he stole from Primo’s rose garden on the way here. Their intense smell hits his nose as he whips them past his face and hands them over. “These are for you. I hope you like roses. I know it is a bit cliché but also a classic, no?”

“I love them,” you assure him, holding them up to your nose with a smile. “Thank you, they’re beautiful.”

He smiles. “Good, good. Yes. So… I thought about what we could do and–”

“Cardinal,” you interrupt then. 

“Oh, no. No, call me Copia. Please.” He gives you a shaky smile. “We’re on a date, no?”

“Copia,” you try but feeling his name on your tongue doesn’t make you feel any better. Ever since getting here your bad conscience made it hard to fully settle into this date and with his visible distress upon discovering it’s you, you feel like now is the time to address it. “Before… before we do this, I have a confession to make…” 

He hums and wriggles his eyebrows. “Oh, really? Well, I would love to see you in confession soon…”

You blush furiously. “Oh, no. No, that’s not what I meant.”

A flash of concern and you can practically see all of his insecurities mirrored in his eyes. You’re both tiptoeing around the same question, you assume, but it’s on you to take the plunge.

“What… what do you mean then?” he asks.

“About this date…” His lightheartedness completely disappears. You feel bad for ruining the mood but it’s too late now and you need to get it out, you owe him that much. “Copia… It wasn’t a blind date on my part. I… I knew it was you.”

“You knew it was me?” he asks and again his features change, eyes wide now. He really had no idea that people knew the ad was his and suddenly he feels like a fool.

“I’m so sorry, I should have been honest from the start.” You stare at his gloved hand but you’re too scared to take it. “I hope you can forgive me for keeping this from you.”

“You knew it was me and you still… you still wrote to me? You still came?”

You furrow your brow. “I didn’t tell you because then I would have had to admit that it’s me and I was scared that maybe you wouldn’t want to go anymore.”

“Me? Not… not…” He shakes his head so fast that his fedora once again threatens to fly off. “Oh, tesoro, I would have… I would have been on the moon with joy, as they say. Yes, yes, I would have.”

You don’t correct him. Instead, an insecure smile settles on your face. “You know you don’t have to say that, Copia, it’s okay if you were hoping for someone else… That’s the risk of going on a blind date, right?”

He yanks your hand out of your lap, wrapping it up in both of his gloved ones. “Tesoro, can I be very honest with you?”

You nod. “Of course you can. Always.”

“I was hoping it was you.”

Your breath catches and steals your next words. The same incredulity that hit him earlier now settles in your chest and you can’t find it in you to question him.

Copia immediately fills the silence. “I never… I never thought…” You watch his Adam’s apple bob up and down, a nervous swallow, before he wets his lips. “Tesoro, you were always very good to me. I always saw your kindness, you understand this, yes? Don’t get me wrong, I just… I never thought you were interested in me like this. In such a silly old man.”

You have to giggle through your nerves. “I love that you’re a silly old man.”

He smiles shyly. “You are very sweet, tesoro.”

“I’ve actually had this crush for a few months now,” you admit, encouraged by his positive reaction. “And I want you to know that when I saw your ad I thought about calling even before I knew it was you.”

His smile grows impossibly bigger at that. “Did you?”

A nod. Copia squeezes your hand, then brings it to his face for a kiss. You feel his wet lips on your skin and they’re so soft, so gentle. When he sets your hand back down you see a trace of black lipstick on its back and instantly feel warm and fuzzy inside.

“Should we start then?” he asks. “I brought a lot of things, let me show you.”

The basket opens to reveal a plethora of food and drink options. Copia sets down a foil-wrapped plate with sandwiches that look a little wonky so you assume he made them himself, then some juice boxes, apple and orange, a box of fresh, delicious-looking strawberries, two bottles of water, reusable plastic cups and plates. At last, he hands you one of many different muffins he must have stolen from the kitchens.

“For my dolcezza,” he says with a smile.

More heat spreads in your cheeks as you take the little treat from him with a thanks. You’re both visibly losing your nervousness now, your postures less cramped, stretching out your limbs on the blanket with your bodies angled towards each other.

“Maybe we should… talk a bit about us?” Copia proposes. “To get to know each other, sì? I would like to learn about you.”

“Oh, yes, that sounds good. Do you want to start?”

He thinks on a good starter question, the pressure clouding his thoughts for a moment but then his silence grows thick and he has to say something. “So, ugh… do you like Star Wars?”

This is not one of the questions on his list of conversation starters. For some reason, every single meaningful thought suddenly leaves him. Luckily, this simple, safe question seems to put you at ease and you relax even more.

“I do,” you say. “I watched all the movies.”

“Oh, good! And what is your favorite?”

You pluck a piece from your muffin, popping it into your mouth. “Hmm… The Empire Strikes Back, I think.”

“Hehehe, sì, sì, I am your daddy.” His eyes widen. “Not that I’m… I don’t mean… you know, the scene with Luke… ugh. So, anyway, yes, that is my favorite as well.”

You giggle and he lights up, smiling so hard that his cheeks hurt. You reach for one of the sandwiches then. Copia helps, holding the plate up for you.

“So, these are all inspired by Italian foods. I have ugh… caprese. Mozzarella and tomato?”

You reach for the one he showed you. “That sounds great, thank you.”

Copia can’t help but stare as he awaits your reaction. You hum in delight and immediately take another bite of the soft bread. Satisfied, Copia allows himself to grab one as well now. Conversation slows down as you eat but you continue to talk about your interests between bites, finding more and more similarities as the minutes pass. 

Your little spot is beautiful, cool enough to sit comfortably but warm enough to feel the reviving effects of spring. The leaves above you rustle every now and then, birds and bees flying past, the odd ant crawling over your blanket in search of some crumbs. Neither one of you is bothered as you sip on your juice boxes in tandem and intuitively increase your proximity.

With your bodies gravitating towards each other like that, you end up sitting very close after a while. Copia reclines against the tree trunk, pulling his hat down to grant him more shade, a little bit like a cowboy leaning against the walls of a saloon. His white suit is an odd contrast to his relaxed pose, not the most comfortable outfit to lounge in. Without thinking too much about it, he pulls you close to him and angles you so you can rest your head in his lap. 

You’re only tense for a short moment. Copia gets rid of his gloves and you can feel his bare fingers running over your scalp. The steady pattern he draws calms you and you sigh, closing your eyes for a few minutes as a warm feeling of safety spreads out in you.

Copia can’t help but stare. Despite the initial hiccup, you’re so comfortable around each other that he feels like he’s known you forever. This is a dream come true for him, all his fantasies, his wishes, his longings, they all seem to come together in the lovely face dozing in his lap. You’re the most stunning sight he ever had the pleasure to behold. Every line, every hair, every mole, blemish or scar combines into the most beautifully painted canvas – and to him, it’s perfect. You’re perfect.

“Do you want a strawberry, tesorino?” he asks then.

You open your sparkly eyes and they reflect a speck of sunlight breaking through the canopy. Blinking a few times, you shift in his lap to avoid being blinded. He tenses as your cheek narrowly misses his groin, but then you nod and he distracts himself by reaching for the box of strawberries. 

With careful fingers, he grabs one of the shiny heart-shaped fruits, making sure to touch the stem to avoid any stains, and then guides it to your mouth. He can’t help but stare as he sees your lips part for him, the tip of your tongue peeking out to welcome the sweetness. You sink your teeth into the red flesh, so eager, and spatters of juice stain your lips. They appear even more saturated as you lick them clean, wetting them with your tongue, and he so desperately wants to kiss you.

“They’re so sweet already,” you say, taking the rest of the fruit from his hand.

“Yes, I agree.”

You giggle. “Copia, you haven’t even tried one yet.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean the strawberries.”

You huff out a flustered breath, fighting the still evident smile on your face, and hold the half-eaten strawberry up to his mouth. “Try.”

He lets you feed him with burning cheeks, keeping his eyes locked on yours. As his teeth meet the flesh, a few droplets of juice fall astray but he doesn’t even care if they ruin his suit anymore. He can’t stop looking at you, thinking about your soft hand so close to his mouth. He wants to kiss it again, desperately, and so he traps it with his when you try to pull away. With his lips pressed to your palm, he closes his eyes, kissing all the way down to your wrist where he lingers.

You gasp softly, lips parting as Copia continues to drag his lips over the delicate skin. Your reaction brings a smirk to his face, another moment that he’s going to think about for days to come.

“I tried, dolcezza,” he says. “And I think you’re still sweeter.”

You blush so prettily at that. Flustering you is easier than he expected and he takes notes of every little thing that draws a reaction from you. You spend another hour like this, eating fruit, drinking juice, chatting about all sorts of things while you exchange soft touches and words of your blossoming affection. At some point, the gentle breeze that carries on throughout the afternoon becomes stronger, and more and more people head back inside to escape a possible weather change.

Neither one of you wants to leave but as you start to shiver more violently, Copia’s worry about you catching a cold wins over his desire to prolong your date. He proposes to head inside as well, running his hands over the goosebumps on your bare arms to warm you up.

When you reluctantly agree, he starts to pile your dishes and the leftover food into the basket. You move to help but he stops you with a tut. “I will pack this up, eh? Don’t worry about it.”

“I could help you, you know.”

“Ah, no no. I invited you, yes? It is my pleasure.”

It only takes him a few minutes to pack everything up. You grab your flowers in the meantime and he watches from the corner of his eye as you sniff them with a growing smile on your face, swaying slightly from left to right. As Copia shakes out the blanket, folding it messily in the middle, you hesitate by the edge of your little picnic spot.

“So, do you want to walk back together?” you ask.

Copia smiles, glad that you don’t want to leave him quite yet. “I would like that a lot, tesoro. Should I carry the roses for you?”

You hand them over and he places them on the lid of the basket before he carefully picks it up. When he’s by your side again, you stop him with a hand on his forearm, the same gentle squeeze you gave him the last time. Only this time you don’t leave. Instead you lean in and press a soft kiss to his reddened cheek, your lips lingering for a few seconds longer than necessary. Copia opens his mouth but he can’t think of anything to say. Instead he uses his unoccupied hand to fish for yours.

Hand in hand, palm against palm, you walk past the leftover groups of Siblings that make use of the last few moments of sun. Neither of you spares anyone else even a glance. Whenever your eyes aren’t focused on the path ahead, they meet each other, giddy, love-sick smiles gracing your lips.

As you finally pass the first archway and enter the cool stone corridors of the abbey, Copia suddenly stops. Your arms slowly extend as you take a few more steps but before your hand can slip from his, he pulls you back. Maybe he used a little bit too much force or maybe he just caught you by surprise, but you practically stumble into his arms. A gasp falls from your lips. You make no attempt at breaking away and so Copia gently guides you against the frame of the archway, setting down the basket in the process so he can place his other hand on your hip.

Big eyes look up into his. He leans in slowly. The rim of his hat catches the stone and it finally slips from his head, dropping somewhere. Copia doesn’t care because he can already feel your sweet strawberry breath on his lips and nothing could stop him from getting a taste. Your hands impatiently grab at his lapels, then, pulling him even closer, and he gasps at the force of your need. With your eyes falling closed, lips slightly parted and your chin tilted up, Copia feels like he’s in a dream.

“Please,” you whisper.

He has to fight a moan, the word resonating somewhere deep inside his belly. Still, he draws out  the moment for as long as he can, stalling as the tension crackles in the tiny space that separates you. He starts by nuzzling your nose while he pushes his hand upwards until he can grasp your jaw. As he angles your head just right, he feels your lashes fluttering against his cheeks. He fights off a giggle as they continue to tickle his skin and you shift slightly against him, growing impatient.

“Co–”

His mouth swallows your next syllable. You hum against him as his lips capture yours with gentle adoration. The grip on your waist tightens at the same time as his thumb presses into your cheek. Want, need, trickles into your belly and Copia feels the same way, moving his mouth against yours with slightly more pressure. The kiss is still slow, still tame, but it’s unmistakable how much stowed up desire for the other you both hold inside.

For a while you continue like this, your body trapped between Copia and the cool stone and the world around you a mere shadow. You open your mouth for air and that’s when you can feel his tongue cautiously pushing against yours. The sensation makes you feel even more fuzzy, the need for oxygen forgotten as you tangle your tongue with his. The taste is sweet, residues of fruit and juice, and underneath it all you feel Copia. Copia.

You only break away when you’re both struggling to keep up the pace. He’s a mess, his lipstick gone, black smears covering his chin and cheeks where his eye make-up rubbed off. You lift your hand to wipe some of your mingled spit off of his chin and the blissful expression on his face makes you smile. You love to see his face ruined like this, you decide. And Copia, seeing the lipstick-smears all over your kiss-swollen mouth, unknowingly thinks the same.

“We should do this again sometime,” you say. “The date but also… this. Actually, I think we should do it again right now.”

Copia chuckles, resting his forehead against yours. “How about we never stop doing it?”

You nod your approval, wrapping your arms around him to play with the hair at the nape of his neck. It’s soft, if a little bit sweaty, messy from the loss of his hat. “I would like that a lot, Copia.”

“I mean it, tesoro,” he whispers with a hint of insecurity. “I don’t want to stop spending time with you. Ever. We already wasted enough of it.”

A big smile breaks out on your face. Copia can’t help but return it, squeezing you a little tighter to his body, and you giggle happily as he kisses your nose.

“You’re right,” you finally say. “Let’s not waste another moment.”

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this silly little story – kudos, comments, rbs etc are as always much appreciated ♡

Masterlist – My Ao3

[coffeeghoulie]

Hiiii!! I love all of your fics, especially the way you write Swiss 😌😌😌

If you want to, could I ask for some fluffy Swiss content, just literally anything where he gets some kind of comfort lols!

Hell yeah, fluffy Swiss content. This does have a little bit of my personal lore for him that he doesn't go by Swiss until most of the way through his first tour, but that gets resolved fairly quickly.

About 1.4k of Aether and Mountain putting together Swiss's first summoning day present.

divider by @ghuleh-recs <3

The new multi-ghoul isn't as slick as he thinks he is, Aether notes. He sees the way his eyes trail when they pass by the jewelry stores on the off days spent exploring. How he locks on longingly at the delicate gold earrings and cuffs, shakes his head and moves on.

Aether pulls Mountain aside halfway through the tour, the Cardinal discussing something animatedly with the multi-ghoul.

"Do you see it, Mount?" Aether says, voice not quite a whisper. Mountain hums as he glances up from his book, shifting in his seat next to him. "Multi keeps looking like he wants them, but he never gets any."

"Right. He's not adorned, though I've seen he has the piercings for it," the earth ghoul says. He nudges one of his antlers against Aether's pronged horn. "I mean, Frit's pierced six ways to Sunday and he wears a couple rings in his braid. And if he came through a fire portal and survived, Multi might be the same way. Might be a fire ghoul thing."

"Wonder what happened to his jewelry, then," Aether says, not glancing up. From where he's talking to the Cardinal, he looks back at the two of them, gold eyes glinting. "He'd look good in it. Gold would be a good color on him."

Mountain agrees with a low hum. "I will keep it in mind. You want me to get the others involved?"

"Ooh, good idea. Keep it on the down low, though. I don't know how Multi'll react if we just. Spring this on him, you know?"

"Absolutely," Mountain agrees, turning a page with a rustle.

They spread the message to the others, Cirrus and Cumulus turning to each other with delighted grins, Rain and Dew nodding at each other, determined. It's slow going as to not arouse suspicion, but one by one, each ghoul slips aside to buy jewelry, various charms and rings, all in gold.

During that time, the multi-ghoul comes to the rest of the pack, a little skittish and completely out of character. "Figured it out," he breathes, scuffing his spat-covered shoe against the carpet of a green room in some venue. "I heard some of the humans calling me something and I want it to be mine. My name's Swiss."

Aether grins, grabs his shoulder kindly. "It's very nice to meet you, Swiss. Welcome to the pack again."

Swiss smiles, that blinding thing that has the full force of the sun behind it. The tour gets easier, now that he's coming into himself, exponentially more confident Up Top. But he still stares longingly when he thinks the rest of the ghouls aren't looking. Aether and Mountain share a knowing glance, knocking their shoulders together.

The tour ends a few days from the first anniversary of Swiss's summoning. Aether slips into each ghoul's room, cautiously collecting each offering. But even with his caution, the Cardinal pulls him aside.

"I hear you are collecting jewelry, eh?" Copia says, mismatched eyes scanning over Aether's face.

"Yes, Cardinal," Aether says, brow furrowing slightly. "For Swiss."

Copia nods and reaches into a pocket he didn't notice in his cassock. When he pulls his hand out, there's the glint of gold in the palm of his leather gloved-hand. "I would like to add to your collection. My own sort of welcome, si?"

Aether swallows, smiling. "Thank you, Cardinal."

"Ah, don't mention it," he grins, a little sheepishly. "Cannot have him think I am leaving him out, no?"

"Never," Aether says, reaching out to accept the earrings from him. As he gets a better look, his breath hitches at the sight of two delicately wrought gold grucifixes on French hooks, a tiny, sparkling ruby in the center of each inverted cross. "Cardinal. Thank you."

Aether makes sure he catches Swiss alone on his summoning day after dinner. Mountain's made a cake, and Dew had lit the candle in the center. The flame had glinted in his eyes, reflecting the glee there as he glanced throughout the pack, grinning.

Aether takes Swiss by the bicep as he heads out of the kitchen, Rain shooing him away from the dishes. He's gentle, knowing that Swiss is still a little bit jumpy and prone to snapping. But as it stands, Swiss just turns to face him with a question in his expression.

"We have something for you, Swiss," he says, voice low and even as he leads the multi ghoul to the common room. "The entire pack's been working on this for months, but don't feel that you have to accept it, okay?"

Swiss makes a questioning noise in the back of his throat as he lets himself be led by the bigger ghoul. Aether sits them both on one of the loveseats, opening the drawer on the end table and pulling out a package wrapped in tissue paper. He hands it to Swiss.

"For me?"

"Yes," Aether says. "We all pitched in for a summoning day gift."

Swiss takes a deep breath, trying to subtly rub his eye before he starts to unwrap it. The gold glints in his lap, and he covers his mouth with a big hand as he takes it in. "You- you got me-?" He can't finish his sentence.

Aether carefully sets his hand between Swiss's shoulderblades. "We noticed your piercings, and how you didn't wear any jewelry in them. The fire ghoul who used to be in our pack, Ifrit, wore a lot in the Prince's name. And since we know you came through a fire portal, we thought you might like some adornment."

"I- I'm not-" Swiss looks up, and Aether feels a horrified pit sink into his stomach at the distraught look on his face. His gold eyes are wet and red-rimmed. "I haven't- I haven't worn adornment for Him in- since my-" He cuts himself off, and Aether knows better than to push.

"You don't have to for our sake, though," Aether assures.

"No!" Swiss says, a little louder than he must mean, because he shrinks back a little bit. "I mean. I want to. Makes me a part of the pack officially. And if I'm serving Him, I may as well look it."

Aether smiles kindly, hand rubbing a small circle over his spine. "May I?" Aether asks, reaching for the pile of jewelry in his lap. Swiss nods and passes it over before sliding off of the loveseat. He sits himself between Aether's spread thighs.

He winds a cuff decorated like sprawling leaves and vines around one of his locs, threads a golden cloud charm through the end of another. A pair of studs shaped like suns go through a set of piercings in his cartilage, and the teardrop shaped ones go through the holes next to them. Aether shows him each piece, letting him decide if and where he wants it. Slowly, Aether adorns him with every piece of jewelry the pack had squirreled away, hoops and studs and dangling charms in elemental symbols and sigils, all glinting gold against his warm gray skin and dark hair.

All that's left are the grucifixes, and Aether gently shows them to Swiss, the inset rubies glinting in the warm lamplight. There's a long silence, and Aether worries that he might have offended him in some way.

"Yes," Swiss breathes. He tenses a moment before craning his neck to look up at Aether over his shoulder. "Actually, will you let me put them in?"

"Of course." He carefully puts the earrings into Swiss's palm. Aether pretends he can't hear as Swiss starts to whisper to himself as he threads each earring into the lowest piercing on each lobe. Tone quiet, reverent. His own soft prayer to the Prince Below.

It takes a moment, but Swiss eventually takes a deep breath and looks up. "Show me what it looks like?" he asks hopefully.

Aether stands and pulls Swiss to his feet. The two of them head to one of their bathrooms, and Swiss grins in the mirror over the sink. Aether's only known him for a year, and this is the first time he's seen him wearing jewelry, but he knows.

Aether smiles back at him. Swiss looks more like himself than he ever has.

[nocterish]

The fact that there was a leather cassock that was never worn, I needed to see how it'd look for Copia so why not draw it? So here it is. I will say the outfit itself gives mad scientist vibe which fits for Faith personally

[PRINTS]

Close up of his face under the cut

[gravehags]

enter lydia

Pairing: Cardinal Copia x f!Reader (Curator!Reader)

Rating: Teen

Tags: meet the best friend, reader being goofy as fuck, copia being incredibly anxious, real friendship talk, dinner parties, terzo being clueless

Words: 4,829

Summary: Your oldest, dearest friend and the love of your life. What could possibly go wrong?

a/n: reader backstory tiiiiime, copia's really in for it lol

~~~

“Hey hon?” you ask, poking at your boxed salad with your fork.

“Mmhmm?” Copia responds, currently distracted by trying to recover his pen which has fallen and rolled under the desk. You hear a telltale thump and him cursing softly, and when he emerges, his biretta sits charmingly crooked on his mussed hair. Briefly you forget what you were even going to ask him as he looks at you with a soft smile before getting off his knees and plopping back down in his seat.

“Oh!” you say, it coming back to you, “I wanted to ask you…can I have like…a guest here? Like a visitor?”

Copia blinks at you.

“Visitor?” he asks, baffled, “Amore, you are not a prisoner! Of course you can have someone come see you? Eh, who did you have in mind?”

Part of you wants to casually say “my parents” just to watch the color drain from his face as he stammers but you spare your love the agony.

“My best friend,” you say, halfway through a bite of lettuce, “Lydia? I’m sure I’ve mentioned her before. She’s um, going to be in the area for a work conference and wanted to spend a few days with me. I just didn’t know what the protocol was for that. I mean, Sister Imperator isn’t going to shit her pants is she?”

“Ah,” he waves his hand dismissively, “siblings’ families visit them all the time, why should you be any different? And we have nothing to hide. We would welcome her with open arms.”

Your shoulders sag in relief.

“Okay good, because she’s coming next week and I’m going to be honest with you, asking for permission was kind of a formality. I was going to do it either way.”

Copia laughs.

“Taking the ‘better to ask for forgiveness’ route, huh? I admire that. I suppose we won’t sacrifice her in some arcane ritual now.”

It’s your turn to laugh.

“Uh, I don’t know that you could handle that. She’s a fighter, through and through. She’d definitely kick your ass.”

He frowns and presses a gloved hand to his chest.

“Cara, you wound me. Are you implying that I could not defend your honor?”

“Cope, I saw Secondo grab your hands and slap you while saying ‘stop hitting yourself’ for ten minutes after you pissed him off at the last Uno night. Respectfully, you are a lover, not a fighter.”

“Oh, but what a lover I am, eh? Everyone else on your floor probably heard what I did to you last night hehe–”

“Copia,” you say, blushing as you stab a garbanzo bean, “you’re starting to sound like Terzo.”

He actually gasps at that.

“Fuck the thing about fighting, now you’ve really offended me, dolcezza,” he says gruffly, returning to his own lunch, “but please tell your friend she is welcome here. Any friend of my amore’s is a friend of mine.”

You smile tightly.

“I sure hope so,” you say under your breath.

___

Copia’s nervous.

He hasn’t been this nervous in a long time - probably since before the two of you started dating - and he can feel the sweat accumulate on his palms underneath the leather of his gloves. He looks over to you, excitedly bouncing on the balls of your feet. When you look at him, you give him a wide smile.

“Are you nervous?” you ask, reaching a hand out to cup his elbow. A rivulet of sweat rolls down his back under his cassock. He smiles. Nervously.

“No, no, of course not. You don’t look excited at all, though.”

You giggle.

“I haven’t seen her since I went back home for Christmas! And so much has changed since then. That was right before we got together. I’ve told her all about you, by the way.”

He chuckles weakly but in your giddiness you don’t notice his discomfort. A car pulls into the long driveway and his heart plunges into his stomach. You’re practically vibrating at this point watching the car come closer and closer until it’s pulling in front of the steps the two of you are standing on. You don’t wait for her to get out of the car, instead flying down the stairs to meet her at the door. When she opens it you let out a high-pitched shriek.

“Hold on, let me get out of the damn car,” he hears a deep, amused, female voice speak. The woman that emerges is…not what he pictured. She’s tall - taller than him (though Secondo would say that’s no feat), broad shouldered, and muscular. Her dark curly hair streaked with bright red is piled on top of her head in a bun and before he can make any other observations, you throw yourself into her arms.

“Hey, babygirl,” she laughs, pulling you in for a tight hug and kissing you on top of your head, “I missed you.”

“Missed you more!” he hears you wail as the two of you rock back and forth in your embrace. He fiddles with his cuffs, unsure of whether he should introduce himself now or–

“You must be him,” she says, her tone shifting entirely. Copia blanches.

“Yes! This is–c’mere,” you say, gesturing to him to come down to where the two of you stand, “this is Cardinal Copia. Copia, this is Lydia Morales, my angel and dearest friend.”

He bows slightly.

“It’s eh, a pleasure to meet you, signorina,” he says, reaching out his hand. Lydia looks down at it and takes it in her own. Giving him a tight smirk, she squeezes in a hard enough handshake that he lets out an undignified squeak similar to one of his rats.

“Pleasure’s all mine…Cardinal.” The slight sneer in her voice when she addresses him immediately lets him know that this is going to be a long three days. When she mercifully releases his hand he flexes his fingers in an attempt to get feeling back in them. Lydia’s shrewd, dark eyes stare him down, sweeping over his appearance.

“Um,” you say, clearly thrown by the tension between your lover and your friend, “L-let me help you with your bag, Lyd. There’s a guest room for you all ready.”

“No need,” Lydia says, walking over to the trunk and smacking it firmly. The ghoul, still in the driver seat, pops it and she hauls an overstuffed carry-on out as if it’s made of air. 

“Oh, making me swoon,” you say with a smile, nudging her arm.

“I live to please, doll,” Lydia smirks as the three of you head up the steps, “this is quite a place.”

“Isn’t it?” you open the heavy front door and usher everyone inside, “Lydia you will not believe the architecture and the art here, it’s Heaven!”

“Wouldn’t ‘Hell’ be more appropriate,” she says dryly, her eyes briefly flicking over to him. She brings her hand to her neck and fishes out a small, gold cross on a delicate chain from under her t-shirt. For the second time that day, Copia’s heart plummets.

“Haha, very amusing,” you turn to him, “My love, you don’t have to stick around if you don’t want to. You’re more than welcome to of course but I’m just going to get her settled.”

You must have finally picked up on his discomfort and he would kiss you right now if he didn’t think that Lydia would clock him in the face.

“Eh, I do have some things to attend to,” he stops, bowing slightly again to Lydia, “Forgive me, signorina. You will join us tonight for dinner, I hope?”

“Oh fuck,” you murmur, “I completely forgot - Copia’s brothers are hosting a little al fresco get together. You interested?”

Lydia nods slowly, smiling.

“‘Course I’m interested. I’d like to meet this chef you told me about - is he one of your, uh, brothers, Cardinal?”

“Sì, that is my brother Secondo. Are there any restrictions to your diet I should tell him about?”

“Not at all, I’ll eat anything that moves unlike this one over here,” she gestures with her thumb in your direction and you roll your eyes.

“I’m sure Secondo will be pleased to have a less picky eater join his gathering,” you comment then turn to him, “Alright then see you later?”

He nods, and when you approach to kiss to his cheek he does not miss the way Lydia’s eyes narrow.

“Eh, see you later. Ciao.”

He doesn’t breathe again until the two of you are down the hallway and round the corner out of sight.

___

“What do you think of your digs? Pretty nice, right?”

You plop down on the gilded loveseat in the little living room adjacent to the small bedroom where Lydia is currently unpacking.

“Real nice. This whole place is nice. Makes you wonder where they got the money.”

Your lips twitch downwards.

“It’s an old institution - as old as the Catholic church. You don’t ask them where they got their money.”

“Fair enough,” Lydia concedes, standing in the doorway folding a shirt. Her lips are held in a tight line and you know she’s holding back from saying what she really thinks.

“Tell me,” you say, leaning forward to rest your forearms on your thighs, “and don’t think I didn’t notice how fucking weird you were with Copia earlier, either.”

Lydia sighs and looks at you.

“Can I be honest?”

“Why are you even asking when you know you’re going to be anyway? Like I said, tell me.”

“He’s too old,” she says bluntly, and you recoil, “and he’s your coworker which is a whole other rat’s nest. This place is way freaky - I mean, a Satanic church? Girlie, I know you’re not picky about religions but–”

“And neither are you, so why is it a problem all of a sudden now that I’m involved with a member of one in opposition from your religion?”

Lydia sighs and rubs her eye.

“Because you’re my best friend? My best friend who calls me up one day and says ‘I’m in love with a Satanic cardinal who is old enough to be my father’ while being sequestered away from her family and friends for almost a year? Babe, tell me you wouldn’t be concerned if I had done the same. I love you and I love that you’re happy but I’m worried. Your parents are too, honestly.”

“You…you’ve spoken to my parents about this?”

“Of course I have. We didn’t see you for months before last Christmas and yeah, we’ve talked but I don’t know. Please tell me you understand why we’re concerned.”

“I’m in my fucking thirties, I’m not a child, Lydia–”

“Look me in the eyes and say you wouldn’t be worried if it was me.”

A beat passes. You chew on your bottom lip.

“Exactly,” Lydia says, sighing and walking over to sit down next to you, “Listen, I didn’t come here to be a buzzkill for three days, I came here to spend time with you. And you know I gotta scope this Cardinal Copia guy out for myself, huh? Make sure he’s worthy of an angel like you. Typical best friend shit, you know?” she nudges you with her body before wrapping an arm around your shoulders. You want to be mad but all in all…she’s right and you know it. Exhaling through your nose you lean into her while she toys with your hair.

“Please keep an open mind?” you ask quietly, “I know they’re spooky, scary Satanists and everything but…they’ve taken care of me all this time. Without Copia, I’m…” you sniffle, tears welling in your eyes, “I’m not even sure I’d be alive right now. You two are everything to me. Both of you.”

“Alright,” Lydia says softly, kissing you on top of your head, “whatever my girl wants. I promise I won’t grill him too hard.”

“Thank you,” you say, “you’re more than welcome to…I don’t know, suss out his intentions or whatever but remember that I love him. So don’t do that weird thing where you offer to crack people’s backs by picking them up around him or anything, okay? He’s already petrified of you.”

Lydia laughs and shoves you away.

“Hey fuck you, that’s my go-to party trick. Ladies love it.”

You roll your eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Are you done unpacking? I want to show this place off to you before we head to this dinner thing.”

“Let me freshen up and change clothes and I’m all yours.”

“Now that’s what I like to hear.”

___

“So, Terzo is the oldest one.”

“No, Primo is the oldest one. Secondo is uh…second, then Terzo, then Copia.”

“Shit, sorry. And they’re all Satanic popes?”

“Terzo is the current one, Primo and Secondo are…retired. And Copia’s a cardinal, you know that.”

“Right, right. Sounds like a lot of fucking dudes, just like the Catholic side. Where are the women at?”

“They’re around, trust me. Not sure if Sister Imperator is going to be in attendance tonight but she’s pretty high up there, I think. There’s a few female cardinals too but I haven’t really gotten the chance to know them outside of passing them in the hall. And then there’s the sisters too, I– Lydia, don’t.”

“What?” Lydia asks with a sly grin, waggling her eyebrows, “Sisters huh? You know I always had a thing for–��

“And you talk about me having a weird priest fetish?” you whisper, holding back a laugh, “Down, girl.”

As if on cue, two sisters - one wearing a tight miniskirt as a habit and the other in a long dress with a very high slit up the side - come out of one of the seminar classrooms. They smile politely at you but when they catch sight of Lydia, their jaws drop.

“Afternoon, ladies,” Lydia purrs with a smile. You make a gagging motion behind the sisters’ backs as they giggle and walk away, occasionally glancing over their shoulders. Lydia licks her lips.

“Not you going full ‘hey mamas’ lesbian,” you wheeze, “I’m having war flashbacks from college.”

“What? We had fun!"

“No,” you laugh, “you had fun. You got laid. I sat at the bar and got mistaken for someone’s mom. More than once.”

“Didn’t help that you used to dress like a senator when we went to the club,” Lydia says with a smile, causing you to whip around and point at her accusingly.

“First of all, business casual was the club look back then and you know that, and second of all, fuck you very much.”

Grinning, Lydia wraps an arm around your shoulders and deposits a wet kiss at your temple.

“You haven’t changed a bit,” she says as you march down the hall side by side, “Should I tell Copia about that time we made out senior year or…”

Your face goes ghostly white.

“Lydia Rosa Morales that was one time and I had a lot of vodka and-and you said—“

“Oh I know what I said,” Lydia agrees, “but what if I changed my mind, hmm? What if I want you all to myself?”

“Lydia do not even go there I—“

“Christ, please unclench I’m just fucking with you. Been a while since you got a taste of your own medicine, huh?”

“God, now I’m really gonna let them sacrifice you tonight. See you in hell, you stupid fruit or whatever that meme was.”

“Wow, lesbophobia from my own best friend…”

“You remember I’m gay too, right?”

“Yeah but–oh. Hello.”

You’re jarred by how polite Lydia sounds all of a sudden until you turn around and are met with Sister Imperator standing there smiling and looking deeply unsettling.

“Sister!” you say, trying to recover yourself, “This is my dearest and oldest friend, Lydia. Lydia, this is Sister Imperator my uh…boss. Lydia is visiting with us–with me– for the next few days.”

“How lovely,” she says as she reaches out to take Lydia’s hand, her gaze directed towards the cross Lydia always wears, “Catholic?” 

“Uh, yeah. I mean, I went through the whole thing y’know - baptism, confirmation - I just don’t really attend now unless my parents drag me. Mostly just like the art and the vibes.”

A silence falls between the three of you and you can tell by the way Lydia fidgets with her watch she is extremely uncomfortable. As are you. Where you’re slightly more accustomed to Imperator’s off-putting presence, Lydia is left uncharacteristically meek and quiet. It’s not a look you enjoy seeing on her.

“Well, just giving Lydia a tour so I guess we’ll be on our way,” you say with a nervous smile, taking your friend’s hand and gently tugging her away.

“Give my regards to the Cardinal, dear,” Imperator says, folding her hands in front of her and giving you a pointed look. The two of you haven’t had any real conversations beyond terse staff meeting discussions since the incident in her office and you swallow thickly before nodding. You don’t breathe again until she turns and clacks away on her stilettos.

“Bro, what the fuck,” Lydia breathes, squeezing your hand, “that’s your boss?”

“Uh-huh,” you say as the two of you slowly begin to walk down the hall again, “she’s…a lot. Listen, you can’t let anyone know that you know this or that I told you but…that’s Copia’s mom.”

“What?”

“Yeah it’s…a whole situation. I’ll explain it someday when you and Copia actually like each other.”

“You’ve officially given me a reason to get along with him tonight. I want the tea.”

You withdraw your hand and smack her arm with it.

“Because being the person I love wasn’t enough of a reason? Dickhead.”

___

Copia’s nervous. Again.

He had to slip up to his rooms to change cassocks after he left the office from how disgustingly damp it was and now he stands in the gardens watching ghouls set up a dining table.

“Are you going to help, or just stand there fretting?”

Terzo, doling out plates onto the rustic table, is looking over at him with an uncharacteristically furrowed brow.

“Ah, yes, mi dispiace. I was preoccupied.”

“Uh-huh,” he says, watching Copia reach the table and begin folding napkins while dodging eye contact. “You’re worried her friend doesn’t like you.”

Copia scoffs.

“Oh, I know her friend doesn’t like me. That’s not the issue. The issue is how do I change that.”

Terzo pulls back and thoughtfully rests his weight on his hip.

“I could charm her for you - you know how irresistible the ladies find me.”

Copia coughs, loud and sharp.

“Eh, I don’t think that’s going to work.”

Terzo looks offended and crosses his arms.

“And whyever not? You doubt my ability to sweep people off their feet?”

“That’s not what I’m saying, what I’m saying is–”

“You two!” The two younger siblings jolt to attention as Primo approaches bearing a vase filled with a variety of flowers, “Go help Secondo in the kitchen, he glamored the ghouls but now they can’t remember how to serve hors d'oeuvres and keep gobbling down all the prosciutto.”

Copia heaves a sigh.

“If Secondo can’t fix the problem, I don’t know how much help we’ll be but if you insist. Come on, fratello.”

___

“Hey, you look great!”

You gesture to Lydia in her linen pantsuit and she grins charmingly, pointing at you in return.

“Not looking so bad yourself, babygirl.” She reaches down to graze the fabric of your yellow floral sundress before taking a finger and tapping the delicate gold grucifix that rests on your neck.

“Huh. He give this to you?”

“Yeah. The night we first kissed. He wanted to welcome me into the family.”

Lydia says nothing, but the face she makes shows her equal parts impressed and wary. You loop your arm through hers.

“C’mon, gardens are this way. They’re beautiful, I think Copia said they were setting the table up near the orchards.”

The walk through the abbey and past the greenhouses is quiet, both of you more than happy to enjoy the comfortable silence afforded to you by years of friendship. When you approach the grassy area next to a row of citrus trees, you gasp. 

“This is gorgeous!” you gush, and the tall, lanky figure of Primo turns to face you with a smile.

“Buonasera, fiore mio. And you must be Signorina Morales?”

“I am yes, it’s a pleasure to meet you uh…Papa.”

“Primo,” he insists, “there will be many papas here tonight and we will all begin to seem like the same person after a while. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll fetch my brothers. Please, please enjoy.”

He gestures to what you assume are ghouls - though they do not wear their standard silver masks - standing silently and bearing large silver platters of–

“Oh fuck, cheese,” Lydia groans, snagging a small plate off the table and loading it up. “You just gonna stand there, or…?”

“Yeah, I’m just looking for–” you turn around and nearly jump out of your skin at the ghoul who appears behind you, bearing two glasses of prosecco. You thank him profusely and hand one to your friend, who makes an impressed face.

“Salute, you little Satan fucker,” she grins.

“I’m not–ugh. Salute, dumbass,” you say, clinking your glass together. 

“Bella mia!”

The all too familiar cry of Terzo rings out as he and his brothers head over to your nook. You exhale heavy through your nose and shake your head as he runs up to plant a kiss on both cheeks.

“Hello, Terzo,” you say, “This–”

You turn to introduce Lydia but Terzo has already swooped in and captured her hand in both of his gloved ones. He looks up at her with wide eyes, a grin playing on his lips.

“Oh, here we go,” you mutter under your breath.

“This Amazonian beauty must be your darling amica, Lydia. Signorina it is my honor and pleasure to make your acquaintance. I…am Terzo Emeritus.”

When he bends to place a kiss to the back of her hand you force yourself to take a sip of prosecco to keep from laughing at her expression. She looks over at you and smiles wide with a wink.

“Signore Terzo, the pleasure is all mine,” she murmurs, fluttering her eyelashes. Oh Lord. You walk away and spot Copia speaking quietly with Secondo.

“Hello, fratello,” you say, standing on tippy toes to press a kiss to Secondo’s cheek, “Hello, my love. Everything uh…everything alright?”

“So far, so good,” Secondo says, eyeing one of the ghouls, “they haven’t done anything weird, have they?”

“Weird? Like ‘developing a twitch’, weird or ‘sacrificing a goat in front of us’, weird?”

“Either, but the latter would be most alarming considering that’s not something we actually do, piccolina,” Secondo scolds, and you smile.

“Oh, you know, sacrificing goats, sacrificing virgins, same thing right?”

“We don’t do that either, and you would know better than most wouldn’t you?” Secondo’s smirks at your gobsmacked expression as he walks away to see Primo and Copia sighs.

“Tell me when it’s over, amore,” he says quietly and you take his hand to press a kiss to the back of it.

“Hey, remember this is just as stressful for me too, right? Sure she’s meeting them but really…they’re meeting her. I would genuinely not be surprised if she’s got Secondo in a headlock by the end of the night and Terzo professing his undying adoration for her.”

Copia cocks his head, frowning.

“Does he know that she’s—”

“Nah. He can find out the hard way. It’ll be good for him.”

For the first time all day, a genuine smile spreads across his face. 

“I adore you,” he says, leaning over to kiss you on the cheek and then dutifully wipe his lipstick off.

“Really? Hmm, had no idea. Come on my love, we have to be social at some point.”

“As you wish.”

—-

“You’ve been dodging me all night, huh?”

Copia’s eyes go wide as he finishes pouring his glass of wine and turns around. Lydia is standing behind him, half smile on her face and a hand in her pocket.

“Eh…no. No, I have simply been–”

“Dipping and dodging like you’re being paid to do it,” she smiles, “Listen, I get it. I’m intimidating, I know. But we all want the same thing here, right?”

“We…we do?”

“Sure - we want her–” Lydia says, gesturing over to you smiling and laughing at something Terzo said, “--happiness. You know we met in middle school?”

“Sì, sì, she said something to that effect.”

There’s a pause, and Lydia takes a sip of wine.

“She ever tell you how we met?”

Copia pauses, thoughtfully.

“I…don’t believe so, no.”

Lydia moves to stand by his side so they both have a clear view of you.

“She switched schools when she was twelve - I’m sure she’s told you about that bullshit she went through.”

Copia nods solemnly.

“Indeed.”

“Well she came to my school. Mid-school year…brutal time. Everyone’s already made their friendships - everyone except me. No one wanted to hang out with the beefy girl who towered a head over everyone else. I had kinda resigned myself to my social outcast fate when one day - there was a new face in class, sitting next to me. I was too shy to say hello but she wasn’t - immediately she smiled big at me and introduced herself. She didn’t fit in either, just a little too awkward and excitable about certain things, and we got along like a house on fire. She was the first real friend I ever had. We’ve been through everything together - made a point of going to the same college so we wouldn’t be separated. It’s been tough, not having her around you know?”

Copia nods slowly. He knew the two of you were close but his heart aches at the way her voice catches on the last word.

“I…am sorry.”

Lydia turns to him.

“What for?”

“All of it. For absconding with her attention and physical presence, for the shit you both went through. I…I love her desperately. I know I’m…I’m old and strange but I would do anything for her. Anything, Lydia. And I suspect you would do the same.”

She clears her throat and takes a sip of her wine.

“The way she talks about you…even over text it’s clear you have her heart. Like, you should see some of the shit she sends me. Real ooey, gooey, cringe shit. Up until you came into her life she always told me she had accepted the fact that she was just not meant to be loved. Which you and I both know is fucking bullshit but she really believed that. She really believed someone as kind and smart and pretty as her deserved to be alone. When she first started here she had such a hard time, you know? The depression and the anxiety and I felt helpless because I was so far away. But then she started talking about The Cardinal and how the two of you were spending time together and how giddy you made her feel. How you made this a home for her. And for that I’m grateful, so thank you Copia. And I apologize for my uh…gruff treatment earlier.”

Copia has the inside of his cheek wedged between his teeth in an attempt to keep from tearing up but when he looks over at Lydia and sees her doing the same, he lets out a little sob. She leans forward and presses a kiss to his cheek.

“Oh my fucking God, Lydia you did not make my boyfriend cry. What did you say to him?”

You’re by his side in a flash, thumbs dutifully wiping the smudged black paint from his cheeks.

“Relax, babygirl. We’re cool, right Copia?”

He nods and smiles.

“Yeah. Cool. She didn’t even threaten me once.”

You sigh and give both of them a look. Primo calls out your name and waves you over to the dining table and when you turn to leave Copia makes to leave too but before he can, a hand is wrapped tightly around his wrist.

“All that being said,” Lydia murmurs, very casual, “if you ever do anything - and I mean anything - to hurt her I’ll fucking snap your neck and make it look like an accident. I don’t care how powerful your Ministry is. I will make you bleed. Know that.”

Lydia’s gaze is intense and Copia nods solemnly.

“Anyway,” she says, suddenly boisterous, wrapping an arm around his shoulders in a crushing hug, “let’s go see the others. I’m not done tormenting your brother, yet. He’s something else.”

“Eh, sì he sure is something. And he hasn’t figured it out yet?”

Lydia grins as they march over to the others.

“I don’t think that man could recognize a woman who is only attracted to other women if I wore nothing but my strap and a lesbian flag.”

Copia groans.

“Please don’t let him hear you say that, he’s probably into that.”

[ghostchems]

Hello I have a request if you are still doing them :)

I would love to see where Cardinal Copia comes back to his room after an extremely rough day. He is frustrated and annoyed and just done with everything only to find his partner nowhere to be found. Eventually he finds her waiting for him in the bedroom in a new set of lingerie. She is ready and willing to let him take out his frustrations out on her in the best possible way. Spiciness please and thank you 😉!

this is spicy but there’s not too much other than ass kissing! still… 18+! mdni!

The Cardinal clenches his fist so hard that his leather gloves squeak against his palm. He curses underneath his breath before reaching for the knob to his sorry excuse of a room. After all of the time and effort he has spent building up the ministry and propelling it to success, leadership still could not offer him adequate furnishings. Another evening of returning to his mattress on the floor. A growl rips from his throat as he shoves the door open and slams it shut behind him, entering his dim room. The growl quickly gets caught in his throat, eyes widening once his gaze falls to you on said mattress.

You have white stockings on that clip into a white lace garter belt, no underwear, and a white lace cutout bra.

“Tesoro…” He starts, his voice dangerously low.

“Heard through the grapevine that it was a tough day,” you hum as you start to crawl toward him on the bed. Copia gives a shaky breath and comes toward you until he’s at the edge of the bed. He takes your chin with his gloved hand and tilts your head up so you meet his gaze, thumb dragging over your bottom lip. You want to touch him so badly but you know better — he is in control, you must wait for permission. His eyes are dark.

“Bend over.”

You shudder and do as he says, flipping yourself over so that your ass is in the air and your cheek is flat on the mattress. Copia takes in the sight of you for a silent moment before being unable to keep his hands off of you, fingertips ghosting along the straps of your bra. They travel down your smooth back, pulling you further back into him so the front of his cassock brushes against the backs of your thighs. A finger hooks beneath the strap of one of your stockings and he pulls at it, then lets it snap against your bare ass. You suck in a sharp breath.

“Oh, pet, you spoil me,” he sighs as he sinks down to his knees. His large hands rest on your butt cheeks, softly kneading them before giving them a squeeze. Your heart starts to beat faster in your chest, legs wobbling as you feel his nose ghost over the sensitive flesh. He presses his face into your ass cheek with a groan, pressing heated, open mouthed kisses along its curve, making his way over to the other one. Hands are now on either side of your hips, nails indenting your skin. Another groan rumbles up his chest as he opens his mouth further and takes a bite out of your ass.

You give a loud squeal and your knees newly give out beneath you. Copia chuckles against the soft flesh as he pulls away, fingertips brushing over the red bite mark, admiring it. He climbs to his feet and gives your other cheek a heavy spank. Your body is thrust forward just from the force of it, groaning as your face is pushed further into the mattress. This is what you expected after the day he’s had — he’s going to use you to relax and you’re going to do whatever he wants.

“Let us see how ready you are for me, hmm?” He purrs, one hand dipping between your legs. His slender fingers runs along your already damp folds with a hum of approval. One fingers slips inside and you shudder from head to toe, just the slightest amount of pressure enough to make your toes curl. “*Good girl,”* he whispers before bringing his finger up to taste you with a moan. You rub your thighs together and arch your back to press further against him, feeling how hard he is underneath his cassock.

A firm hand falls to your upper back and pushes you down, pinning you in place as his other hand grips your hip.

“You’ll be good for me, yes?”

“Yes, Cardinal.” You’re breathless already, giving another small squeak as he squeezes your hip.

“Always so obedient for me,” Copia coos, his finger tips lightly drifting down your back. “Now, I must warn you, tesoro.” His voice drops to a dangerous octave as he leans overtop of you, his lips settling against your ear.

“I, eh, am not feeling so gentle.”

[ramblingoak]

No, Cardinal

The Sexy Adventures of Cardinal Terzo ~ A series of stories featuring Cardinal Terzo and his adventures around the abbey

Art by @tasty-ribz / Dividers by @gothdaddyissues

Terzo x GN Reader ~ Cardinal Terzo has a non-conventional method of punishment for you...

Warnings: Cock warming, rough blowjob, gender neutral reader, nsfw, 18+ only mdni, 1,110 words

This was boring.

You tried to shift on your knees a bit, being careful not to move too much.  The Cardinal’s instructions had been simple: don’t move.  It seemed easy enough hours ago when this first began but after kneeling in the same position for so long you were starting to get sore.  He could have at least given you a cushion or something but you supposed it wouldn’t be much of a punishment if you were comfortable.  You took a deep breath in through your nose and pushed it out a little more forcefully than you should have, rustling the hair that was right in front of it.

“Mi dispiace, do you have other places to be?”  You tried to answer him but your voice was muffled and impossible to understand considering it was full at the moment.  Cardinal Terzo smirked down at you as he cupped your chin.  The black leather of his glove was warm and felt nice against your sore jaw.  “Don’t try to speak, do you remember what I told you?”

Stupidly you attempted to nod your head and his grip briefly tightened to keep you still, those strange eyes flashing in irritation.

“Don’t move.  Such a simple thing that you seem to be having a…hard time with.”  The smirk was back and it took every ounce of self control you had not to narrow your eyes as you stared up at him.  “Let me make it easy on you, eh?”

Terzo adjusted on his couch a bit, leaning more comfortably against the back.  His cassock was mostly open and you couldn’t help but let your eyes wander over his body.  Dark hair covered his chest, trailing down his stomach before it ended right above where your nose was.  When you looked back up at his face he was wearing a lazy smile and his heavy cock twitched inside of your mouth.

You probably shouldn’t complain too much, there were definitely worse punishments than cock warming Cardinal Terzo.

“Let’s try this, when you need to say ‘Yes, Cardinal’ I want you to blink once.  If you need to tell me ‘No, Cardinal’ then you blink twice.”  He started to gently rock his hips, his cock barely moving along your tongue.  “Do you understand?”

He smiled when you gave him one slow blink.  His other hand came up to rest on the back of your head as he started thrusting harder.  Little grunts were escaping him as he worked his cock further and further into your mouth with each thrust of his hips.  He had already come twice, filling your mouth with his release and warning you not to let a single drop escape.

Your grip on his knees suddenly tightened when the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat.  Terzo stopped then, holding your head firmly as he growled out some words in Italian.  Tears started to leak out of your eyes but instead of stopping he just rubbed them into your skin with his thumb.  When your breathing became harder, the air puffing out of your nose and rustling the hair at the base of his cock, he finally took pity on you and backed off.  With a groan he leaned back again, letting go of the back of your head.

“Isn’t this much better than cleaning the confessional booths?  A nice evening with your Cardinal, letting him use you.  Letting him fuck your mouth until he’s sated.  Don’t you agree?”  You gave him another slow blink, hoping that you didn’t look like a total mess.  “Perfetto.  A fitting punishment for a Sibling that kept talking during my mass.”

You winced at his words, remembering what had gotten you into this mess to begin with.  He was right, this was much better than the alternative.  There were a lot of Siblings and Ghouls that would kill to be where you were now.  You loosened your grip on his knees, flexing your fingers against the fabric still covering his legs.  When you glanced up at his face he was watching you, his gaze appreciative.  Your cheeks warmed and you felt bold enough to stroke along the bottom of his cock with the tip of your tongue.

“Ah, sÌ.  Sì, bene.  Molto bene.”

Terzo’s mouth fell open when you lapped at the tip, tasting the precum that was practically dripping from him.  Your eyes closed as you continued to work your tongue along him.  His cock kicked when you pressed against the sensitive spot near the head and you hollowed your cheeks as you sucked, applying the perfect amount of pressure to make him moan above you.  

You kept licking at him, your movements becoming slower and more sensual.  His free hand came back to hold your cheek and he slowly began to thrust again.  Your hands stayed still as he kept your head steady, as his thrusts began to grow more hurried.  The tip was leaking freely now, the salty liquid spreading along your tongue and then along his cock as you stroked it over him with each thrust of his hips.

“So beautiful with my cock in your mouth.  Are you ready to taste my cum again?”  His thrusts became harder when you blinked at him once, but you were ready for him.  You relaxed your throat as much as you could so he could sink deeper.  “Bene, that’s it.  Be good and take it.  Take me, take all of me.”

Terzo’s hair fell across his forehead and his groans began to fill the room.  You couldn’t look away from his eyes, his mismatched gaze mesmerizing as he watched you take his cock.  His eyes finally closed when he started to twitch and kick inside of your mouth.  You moaned, wanting him to fill you again, wanting to taste his release once more.  This was your communion, his cum was a blessing.  

You’d kneel between his legs all night if that’s what he wanted.

When he finally came, you had to grip his knees tightly again to steady yourself as he ground his hips against you.  It was hard to catch your breath through your nose but you didn’t dare open your mouth.  You didn’t want to miss a single drop of his cum.  He filled your mouth with thick ropes of it and you swallowed it all greedily, moaning as it coated your throat.  When his cock finally stilled you licked it over and over again, cleaning all traces of his release off of it.  You only stopped when he let go of your cheeks and when you glanced up at him he was wearing that lazy smile once more.

“Well, what do you think?  Have you learned your lesson?”

His cock twitched against your tongue when you blinked twice.

The Sexy Adventures of Cardinal Terzo masterlist

My Masterlist ~ My Archive of Our Own ~ My Tip Jar

[auviergine]

papa's leather cassock!!

this has been in the wip dungeon for months, i finally got around to finishing it

[da-rulah]

Just a sad pathetic unloved Cardinal falling in love for the first time

A few headcanons to satiate this brain rot... Enjoy!

SFW & GN Reader

He's so young when he falls in love for the first time

He has no idea what's happening to him, he has to ask his brother's advice

Secondo rolled his eyes and tells him to ask one of the others, he was far too busy to deal with his little brother's 'crush'. Terzo's only advice was him offering to give Copia a female anatomy lesson...

But Primo... he took him straight to the library, and gave him book after book, the very best of romance novels, to teach him what love truly was, and what it looked like...

He spent weeks reading the material as if it were his new Unholy Bible. He fell further and further into his daydreams, positioning himself and you as the protagonists in every story.

But it failed to give him the one thing he needed to talk to them... confidence.

Every time he would see you in the halls, the poor guy would blush and avoid eye contact. He feared your rejection more than anything.

He found himself writing letter after letter, trying desperately to pour his heart out to you without sounding utterly pathetic with each note, but he'd scrunch them all up and fling them into the trash can every single time.

You weren't dumb - you knew something was off with him... Why was he suddenly avoiding you at every cost? You were sure you'd even seen his foot leaving the windowsill of the ground floor corridor one morning as if he'd climbed out of it just so he didn't need to walk past you.

You decided enough was enough, and purposefully got in his way as often as possible then. He just remained the same, scurrying away as quickly as possible and stuttering with avoidance.

But when you sat beside him at Black Mass one Sunday, he couldn't escape.

You caught him looking at you often, each time his cheeks flushing red as he snapped his gaze back to the front. You saw him fisting at his cassock by his knees, fiddling nervously. You felt his muscles tense when you shuffled close enough that your thigh touched his.

After mass you'd cornered him, demanding to know what was the matter and why all of a sudden he was acting so strange around you.

He hadn't expected you to be mad at him, but he braced himself for rejection as he told you, hurriedly and in a jumble of vowels and consonants that he cursed himself for screwing up - but you got the message.

You stared at him in awe, wondering how on earth you had missed it... Perhaps you had been too busy looking inward at your own harbored feelings towards him to see it.

Because yes, of course you felt something for him. The annoyance at his avoidance had come more from a place of hurt than of actual anger.

You stepped closer to him, taking his leather-clad hands in your own as you explained exactly why he didn't need to be so frightened of you... because you had fallen for him too.

You couldn't have held him back if you wanted to - he lurched forwards to press his lips to yours in a desperately bruising kiss that the both of you had been daydreaming about for the longest time...

[papasbaseball]

Malachi 4:1 (Cardinal Copia x OFC/Reader)

+18 CONTENT NOT FOR MINORS. MINORS KEEP SCROLLING

Pairing: Papa Emeritus IV x OFC/Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Contains Implied/Referenced Torture, Sadism, Angry Sex

Summary: A new initiate is off on the wrong foot with one Cardinal Copia. Sometimes it is better to be ignorant and spared the rod.

Word Count: 1,312

Notes: READ THE WARNINGS. Translations are at the end.

AO3 Link

A page torn from a bible seemed appropriate for the plot. The nib scratched lightly at the wafer-thin paper, careful not to tear it. Cardinal Copia frowned as he copied the childish way none of her letters matched. If anyone had her best interest at heart they would break her of that immediately and quickly.

The grandfather clock and its beard of dust about the clock face chimed, the bell sounding too far away for the fact that it sat in the corner of his office. He blew quickly on the paper, creasing it lightly and tucking it into the pocket of his cassock next to his rosary. He shoved the bible into the bottom drawer of his desk and locked it. One minute.

As he opened the door, the voices of siblings wove and mingled until a cloud of cacophony drowned out the reason why he had left his office in the first place. The cardinal shut his eyes just long enough for him to regain his purpose, and then he shoved into the sea of bodies. Excuses lost themselves in his chest as he wove in and out of the cliques and loners. Thirty Seconds.

There. She looked like an albino rabbit in her initiate habit, waiting to be shot. She was glued to Sister Imperator’s side, right where he wanted her. Sister was leaning down so that the initiate could hear her over the sound of the crowd. The little rabbit had a confused look on her face. Her stupid little nose that scrunched and wriggled grated the blood cells against his veins. She had sat so well through her whole entrance interview. When it had come to his turn to question her, he had to do his best to keep the smile from his face. It was one of the few pleasures of life, publicly embarrassing interested candidates. If he didn’t, they’d walk around the Ministry with their head held high like Satan had placed it there. That needed to be earned and built from nothing. However, when he had gone to level her, she cleared the trick and even had the audacity to question him back.

She needed to be brought low, low enough to kiss his black leather dress shoes and then beg for mercy as they pressed that cheerful face of hers into the carpet of his office. He marched up to them and Sister Imperator looked to him, breaking her gossiping shelter.

“Copia,” she started.

“Cardinal,” he corrected. “Copia” could be used behind closed doors, but the little rabbit was already lacking in the necessary humility. Best to not give her any more ideas.

Sister Imperator rolled her eyes. “Cardinal, what may I do you for? Am I still meeting you for lunch today?”

“I am afraid lunch will have to be postponed,” he said, giving her a slight bow before producing the note from his pocket. “One of our sisters said she found this while turning down the initiate’s bed this morning.”

Sister Imperator took the note and unfolded the delicate paper, an end page from Malachi with just enough room for a message.

“The poor girl was quite disturbed and I had to quiet her,” he continued. “Traitorous ways can be most upsetting to the siblings.”

“Traitorous?” the initiate spoke up. “Sister Imperator, I would nev-“

The woman cut her off. “My dearest brother, I miss home so much. Only a few more months and then my assignment will be over. In Jes-“ she stopped herself before she could complete the holy closing. She lowered the note with a hurt expression. “Is this true? Have you come here to violate our sanctuary?”

“No!” she shrieked. “No, no, I would nev-“

Cardinal Copia cut her off this time, gloved hand held up to shush her. “Sister,” he addressed Imperator, “I know that you are incredibly busy. I will see to it that she is properly dealt with. Bring her to my office tonight.”

“You’re lying!” the girl shrieked again. The noisy rabbit had drawn the attention of a group of passing sisters, one of whom he recognized to be Terzo’s prime mover. Now she’d done it.

“Enough!” he snapped. “Bring her to my office this evening.” With that, he stormed off to the records office.

A cane? A whip? Maybe he should just go straight for the hot iron. The warm sizzle of her inner thigh being burned might make her think twice before embarrassing him like that again. He had no intention of actually getting her excommunicated. No, he was going to enjoy breaking her, making her apologize over and over and over and once more over again, only for nothing. Maybe he’d collect her tears in a little vial and make her wear it around her neck as a vessel of shame.

The office door squeaked violently as he threw it open, ignoring the front desk and heading straight for the intake tray on top of the file cabinet. Her folder was still there. His gloved hand ripped it from the wire tray, sending the container clattering to the floor. What was one more misstep when Papa Terzo would undoubtedly hear about how the little bitch had gotten away with mouthing off to him in the hallway? The door hardly made any sound as he slammed it shut, the smooth voice of Terzo taunting him in his head. Rattino, dovrò comprarle un sacco in cui possa portare le tue palle.

As he stormed down the now empty halls, his mind batted back and forth the thoughts of whipping her and comebacks for that insufferable clown of a Papa. Maybe she would come to appreciate holding her tongue around him if he dislocated her jaw by forcing her to service one of his ghouls? His nose wrinkled at the thought upon returning to his office.

No. He should be the one to punish her. Her suffering would be soured in his heart if she didn’t cry herself to sleep every night over only him. The deadbolt flipped as easily as the folder did, showing him her innocent rabbit nose and soft lips paperclipped to the corner. Had she ever been kissed before? They looked as if no one had had the pleasure of taking them between their teeth, biting just enough to make her beg to have her mouth violated.

His cock ached as the blood rushed to it, thinking about making her gag and choke on it. The door secured, he gathered the front of his cassock and slipped his cock out into the grip of his gloved hand. The soft leather dragged along the shaft, bringing forth a bead of cum. She should be there, on her knees before him, tongue ready and wet to catch his spend. If he broke her well enough, she could make for a pretty and calm thing with eyes that lit up at the thought of pleasing him.

His grip tightened as he set the file down to fully appreciate the black and white likeness of her. The leather squeezed as he imagined her tight cunt clenching around him, the roses in her cheeks blooming across her rabbit-like face as he choked her. The way she would sob as he let go…

The thread of pleasure had been caught too soon and spurts of his cum soon decorated both the file and that pretty little face of hers. The fun had been had too soon. He shoved the file off the desk, the papers catching in the air with snaps and skidding across the marble floor. He collapsed in one of the chairs meant for visitors as he tried to catch his breath. Yet another slight he would have to punish her for.

“Un bavaglio,” he mumbled as he straightened his underwear, cassock, and pectoral cross, “e poi le picchierò il culo petulante.”

Translations: Rattino, dovrò comprarle un sacco in cui possa portare le tue palle. - Little rat, I'll have to buy her a sack to carry your balls in. Un bavaglio, e poi le picchierò il culo petulante. - A gag, and then I'll beat her petulant ass.

[carnaldesiresiii]

A copia drawing inspired by hanging around!!!

BUT ALSO WDYM WE NEVER GOT TO SEE HIM WEARING THE LEATHER CASSOCK 😞

[daredvssy]

Gloves

Saw an absolutely sinful photo of Copia's old grucifix gloves earlier and immediately set off to write this. Thank god I'm not all that interested in seeing heaven's gates because I'm definitely never going to make it there now! If you prefer to read on AO3, you can do so here :)

Ship: Cardinal Copia x Reader

Rating: 18+!!!!!! No minors PLEASE!

Wordcount: 2047

Warnings: smut, fingering, glove kink, f!receiving oral sex

It’s not like you meant for it to happen, really. When your beloved had come to you and asked if you could aid him in sorting through some documents he needed to translate, you had been quick to agree to help. After all, he always did so much and so rarely asked for any sort of assistance, and you definitely wouldn’t ever pass up a chance to spend a little extra time with him, no matter how that time was spent.

So yes, you had genuinely gone to his office with the best of intentions, truly meaning to help the Cardinal in any way that you could. And you would have, save for one problem. No matter what you did, you couldn’t seem to focus.

Those damn gloves he always wore were the problem. The smooth black leather stood out so blatantly from the red fabric of his cassock. Combined with the decorative grucifixes that adorned the backs of them, they served to automatically draw your attention to his hands.

And oh, what incredible hands they were. His hands were quite large, and by this point in your relationship you were all too aware of exactly how talented he was with those long, thick fingers. Just thinking about it was enough to have you squeezing your thighs together in a pathetic attempt to fight off a surge of arousal.

As you stared at his hands while he worked, you couldn’t help but wonder exactly how those fingers would feel inside you if he were to leave the gloves on. You already knew the leather was sinfully, luxuriously soft; you were well accustomed to the feeling of his gloved hands caressing your face or holding your own. The thought of that texture instead being used for less innocent touches had left you in a state where it was almost impossible for you to get any work done, or pay attention to anything else.

You were yanked out of your reverie with a jolt when you realized that Copia was looking at you expectantly, apparently waiting for you to answer a question he had asked.

“Sorry, what did you say?” you asked meekly, a little embarrassed to have been caught staring so intently that you hadn’t even heard him.

“I was asking if you are okay, cara,” he replied. If he was slightly annoyed by your strange behaviour, he very graciously didn’t show it. “You look like your thoughts are elsewhere, should we take a little break?”

“Maybe that’s a good idea,” you agreed, grateful for the suggestion. “I apologize Copia, I’m just a little distracted right now.”

“Distracted? Is something bothering you?” he asked, furrowing his brow in concern.

“I’m fine Copia,” you replied, a small smile gracing your lips. He was always so quick to react if he thought you were feeling even the slightest bit off. “It’s just something silly, really, you don’t need to worry about it,” you reassured him. Copia narrowed his eyes, unconvinced. “Mi amore, if it is bothering you then I am sure that it’s not silly. Tell me, what has you so preoccupied?” he pressed, unwilling to let the subject drop.

You flushed bright red, realizing he wasn’t going to let this go until you admitted exactly what it was that had made you so distracted. You took a deep breath in an attempt to steel yourself.

“Well,” you started, staring determinedly at a spot on the floor to avoid meeting his intent gaze. “It’s… your hands, I guess. Or… your gloves, actually.”

“My gloves?” said Copia, mystified. He reached over to you, one of the offending gloved hands gently guiding you by the chin to lift your head and look him in his duochromatic eyes. “What do you mean, cara?” he urged.

“Well it’s just… Your hands look so good in them, and they feel so nice and soft whenever you touch me in them… I guess I was just wondering what they would feel like if you touched me with them… somewhere else,” you admitted, the words flying out of you all at once.

Realization finally dawned on Copia’s face, and you were sure you were going to burst into flames in your embarrassment. You attempted to turn your gaze downward again, but were prevented from doing so when his grip on your chin tightened, insisting that you continued to look him in the eye.

“Come here, bella ragazza,” he directed you, moving his chair back and guiding you to stand in front of him, his desk behind you. “If only there was something I could do about this… distraction,” he said, pretending to be deep in thought. As he spoke, he ran both hands down your sides, coming to a stop with them resting around your waist. You shuddered slightly, his actions only fanning the flames of the arousal you had been feeling since shortly after you arrived at his office.

Copia removed his hands from your waist and leaned back, considering you. Almost unwillingly, a soft whimper escaped you at the loss of his touch. He smirked knowingly at the sound.

“Take this off,” he said, tugging at the hem of your dress. The tone of his voice left no room for argument, not that you would have protested anyways. You loved the times when he got like this, demanding and domineering. Quickly, you did as you were told, pulling your dress off over your head, not caring if you mussed your hair in the process. You were left in nothing but your bra and panties, shivering a little in the cool air of his office.

“Bene,” he said. He gestured towards his desk behind you. “Take a seat.”

Not needing any further instruction, you hopped up on his desk. Just as you had earlier, you squeezed your thighs together to alleviate the ache between your legs.

“None of that, bella,” he tutted, as he moved his chair forward to position himself closer to where you were perched on his desk. “Let me see you,” he demanded.

You huffed a little in response to his scolding, but made no further comment as you opened your legs a little for him.

“More,” he demanded, his hands coming up to your thighs to urge your legs to open even wider. He kept his hands in place as if he was holding your legs open. As he noticed the very clear wet patch that had formed on your panties, the smirk returned to his face.

“Yes, just as I expected,” he said, studying the wet spot intently. You were almost certain you were blushing redder than his cassock, at this point.

“Copiaaa,” you whined, drawing out the last syllable of his name. “Please touch me,” you begged.

“So needy,” he chuckled, teasing. “Don’t worry bella, I will take care of you.” He slowly, very gently dragged one of his gloved hands up from its place on your thigh to softly rub at your clit through the soaked fabric of your panties.

You mewled at the contact, gripping the side of his desk hard. You squirmed a little, trying to coax him to touch you with a little more pressure, to no avail.

He studied your face carefully as he continued to trace feather-light circles around your clit through the ruined fabric, like he was determined not to miss any of your reactions. He continued with this for a little bit, until you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Copia please,” you blurted out, well past the point where you would have felt any shame about how desperate you sounded.

“Please what?” he replied, feigning confusion. “What do you need, amore?”

“I need you to touch me!” you grunted out in frustration, trying again in vain to wiggle your hips in an attempt to make him touch you with more pressure.

“I’m already touching you, cara,” replied Copia. “You are going to need to be a little more specific.”

You whined again in distress at his refusal to cooperate and make things easy for you. “Harder, Copia please,” you begged.

Copia regarded you for a moment, as though he was considering his options. Just as you thought he was going to ignore your pleas and keep teasing you, he stopped altogether.

“Okie dokie,” he said cheerfully, hooking his fingers in the waistline of your drenched panties to pull them down. He discarded them quickly, and then finally, blissfully brought his hand back up to touch you again, firmer this time.

You hissed at the sensation of the soft leather of his gloves gliding smoothly around your clit, the sensation making you throw your head back in pleasure.

“Is that better, amore?” he asked as he rubbed you, coaxing gasps and moans and all sorts of other noises from your lips.

“Yes, yes Copia,” you moaned out. Satisfied with this response, he turned his attention to your entrance, gathering some of your wetness on his gloved fingers before slipping one of them inside of you.

You keened in approval as he began to pump his finger in and out of you, quickly adding a second finger alongside it. The added thickness of the gloves on his fingers combined with the smooth texture of the leather felt divine, and it wasn’t long before you had to squeeze your eyes shut, overwhelmed by the sensation.

While you weren’t looking, Copia took the opportunity to lean in and lap gently at your clit with his tongue, never one to pass up an opportunity to eat you out. Your eyes flew open at the sensation, your hands moving without your permission to grip his hair, moaning loudly.

Copia continued to curl his fingers in and out of you as he licked and sucked at your clit, the wet sounds it produced absolutely filthy.

One particularly well-aimed thrust of his fingers pressed perfectly against your sweet spot, ripping a gasp from your throat. “Fuck Copia!” you cried out, your legs beginning to tremble as he continued to attack that same spot over and over.

“Are you close, brava ragazza?” Copia asked, pausing his tongue’s ministrations to your clit momentarily to await your response.

“Yes, yes I’m so close Copia please please please!,” you practically sobbed.

“Good,” he replied plainly, before returning his mouth to you, sucking hard as he continued to curl his gloved fingers to rub against your sweet spot.

This was enough to send you spiraling over the edge, your orgasm crashing over you in waves as you clenched around his fingers, a litany of curses and his name leaving your mouth as he worked you through it. He kept going until you could handle no more, one of your hands pushing at his head to signal your oversensitivity. He pulled back, panting heavily as he brought his other arm up to wipe some of your mess off of his face. He slipped his fingers out of you, holding them up to examine the mess you had made of his glove.

“Come here,” he said, his voice wavering a little with his lust. You slid down into his lap, and he wrapped an arm around your waist, securing you in place with little concern for the wet spot you were most certainly going to leave on his cassock.

He held his fingers out for you to see the wetness he had collected on his gloves.

“Open,” he commanded you. Immediately, you opened your mouth for him, allowing him to slip his fingers in. Without further prompting, you closed your mouth around them, diligently sucking them clean.

“Good girl,” he praised, when he finally removed his fingers from your mouth. He pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, the chasteness of the action contrasting sharply with what he had just finished doing to you. When he broke the kiss, you leaned forward to rest your head against his shoulder.

“Copia?” you asked as he held you.

“Yes, amore?”

“That was very good, you know, but I’m pretty sure I’m never gonna be able to get any work done now.”

Copia chuckled at this. “Ehe… Well, I say fuck it for now,” he said. “Besides, I just thought of something better we could spend our evening doing.”

You smiled into his neck. You were in for a long night.

[itsbeesknees]

Oh Brother of Mine

Cardinal Copia x GN!reader

——0——

Summary: Copia’s seeing someone, and it’s really no one’s business— but his brothers believe otherwise.

Warnings: none, just wacky hijinks and some fluffy crack

Word count: 1.3K

A/N: just wanted to write something silly today,, this is written with the pretense that Copia is related to the Emeritus brothers!

——0——

“He’s late.. again.”

Terzo swivels in his seat, facing his brother with a quizzical brow and a cherry red UNO card twirled between the pads of his gloved fingers.

When Secondo mentioned their youngest sibling's tardiness three weeks prior, the trio did not truly care, as it was none of their business what Copia chose to do in his leisure. But now it was his what? Sixth time being late to their annual family game night. Which was odd, since you could harangue Copia for his flaws left and right— but you could never say he was not punctual.

This behavior was irregular, Terzo supposes, and he had no clue to what it meant in the dictionary that was his brother's mannerisms. Or maybe he did have some sort of inkling, a suspicion of sorts, yet bit his tongue anyways. Because Terzo wasn’t quite ready to air out the idea that Copia might be having some sort of rendezvous or sex-escapade with a member of the congregation, and he needed a fragment of proof at the very least before flinging out the accusation.

Even if Terzo was right, it was none of his concern. Well, perhaps a little teasing would dribble out as it was an older sibling's duty, but regardless he wasn’t ruffled over the possibility of Copia’s secrecy. Terzo loved his brother, really he did, and respected his private life.

Though, if this plays out any longer Terzo’s curiosity would win out and he would get nosy. Confidentiality be damned.

Secondo was already ten paces ahead of him, pinching the arched bridge of his nose as the soles of his leather brogues tapped irritatedly against the floors. Moments away from hunting his younger brother down with a skewer.

Secondo could be patient, as long as there was a glass of bourbon or pack of marlboros on standby. Which was unfortunate for him, as his cup was currently empty and he had forgotten his lighter.

Primo, as it would seem, is precedently unbothered by the whole ordeal. A glossy book rests wedged between his hands, the corners of the cover warbled and frayed, possibly from water damage. Occasionally, he would spare a fleeting glance at the door, before half-heartedly turning another page.

“Don’t be so impaziente, fratello.” Terzo replies coolly, turning back to the poor excuse of a card-tower he had begun meticulously stacking together. “He probably got wrangled into some last minute paperwork. You know, being busy and shit.”

The third Emeritus’s words sounded too much like a bald face lie, even to him. Because, when Copia finally opened that creaky door— looking rather flushed and disheveled— there were no paper cuts, or ink stains, or anything that would indicate a Cardinal who had been engrossed in filing.

There were, however, four fresh hickies on his neck.

—o—

Copia’s love affairs were no one’s business but his own. And it was certainly none of his brother's business. But whoever he’s been seeing isn’t just a fling, a one night stand, a momentary heartthrob. No, it was apparent in his goo-goo eyed gaze they were much more.

The hickies were the first indicator, purplish-red marks seen puckered on his throat in early March, with the spring equinox following only a few days after. Next came May and the coincidental routine of Terzo walking in on Copia fidgeting with bushy bouquets while awkwardly practicing ‘hello’s’ in the vanity mirror. Then, in mid-July, there were the content sighs that would always bubble past the Cardinal’s lips when he’d stare off into the distance for too long, and a constant fragrance of someone else’s perfume or cologne that always lingered on his cassock. Now it is August, so Copia is ‘quite serious’ with this mystery person, whoever they are.

“Satanas aiutami ora, I cannot believe I am doing this.” Secondo groans brusquely. He was way too old to be crouching behind a marbled pillar with Terzo, who tuts at his bemoaning and slides on a pair of sunnies.

“You act all high and mighty when you’re just as much of a snoop as me.” Terzo sneers. “Now stai zitto, I am trying to focus.”

Focus on what exactly? Terzo had no clue. All he knew was that Copia occasionally liked taking walks around the ministry during the early evenings, and there was a betting chance his secret lover may be accompanying him. So hopefully, when the Cardinal comes waltzing down the corridor, his brothers may just catch a glimpse of whoever held his rapidly beating heart.

Primo was strictly against this idea, pointedly absent in their antics. He’d rather spend his evening in his greenhouse, as he put it, before hastily telling them that they were both idiots.

“So, we’re just supposed to wait here like a flock of sitting ducks?” Secondo retorts, glaring holes at the ridiculous shades Terzo had donned.

“No. Sitting geese, actually.” The third Emeritus’s lips curl up into a smirk. Yes, Terzo thought he was quite funny.

Secondo’s gaze hardens into one of caution, warning his brother to stop while he’s ahead.

The sound of shoes tapping against the floors snapped the duo back into the present situation, anchoring their attention back to the matter at hand. Judging by the steady footfall the figures passing by were a pair, and the fiddly Italian lilt that was Copia’s voice confirmed who precisely the pair was.

Terzo motions Secondo to be deathly silent, before poking his head out from behind the column to sneak a slivering peek. Surely enough, there stood Copia, stopping and standing right at a crossway, jovially chatting away with someone.

Unfortunately, another pillar rested just shy of a few meters down, obscuring Terzo’s view of whoever Copia was endearingly talking to. He managed to glimpse at the tips of their shoes and hem of their unholy vestments, until they took a step back and completely vanished from his peripheral.

Terzo squints as Copia leans in and... kisses them? Hugs them? He can’t quite tell, and he’s this close to cussing at a beam of stone.

“Well?” Secondo whispers, impatient and wincing at his now aching knees.

“Aspettare.” Terzo mutters. “This stupido pilastro is blocking my view.”

It is then he deduces, brilliantly, to careen his head out further and try to bypass the pillar. And his plan was going rather swimmingly, until he knocked right into a candelabra and sent a crescendo of crashing and clanging steel right in his direction.

Terzo grimaces as hot wax flicks onto his thighs, the materials of his slacks doing little to shield him from the sweltering heat. Secondo curses, reaching out to grab his brother’s collar and yank him back into the solitude of their relatively lame hiding spot.

But it was already too late. Copia’s mystery partner had parted ways down a separate foyer, gone without a trace, and the Cardinal was stalking straight towards the two.

“Ah, Copia.” Terzo grins coyly up at him when he finally snuffs them out. “What brings you here, on such a fine evening as this?”

Copia stares back at him, blinking. “Were you spying on me, fratello?”

“Spying? No.” Terzo waves in dismissal, scrambling to stand upright besides Secondo. “A little information collecting? Sì.”

Secondo winds back his hand and whacks Terzo upside the head.

“Ok, well, ehm.. maybe don’t spy on me, hm?” Copia presses his mouth into a thin line, irked and slightly amused.

“Yes, of course.” Secondo says, clenching his jaw hard enough that they could hear his teeth grinding behind painted lips.

In the end, the Cardinal gives them one last estranged look, before pivoting down the hall. His partner still remaining a secret kept under lock and key.

Terzo has the good grace to act ashamed, until Copia leaves and he splinters into a much more comical smirk.

“That could’ve gone worse.” He tells his brother good-naturedly, who simply huffs fiercely, shoulders past him, and refuses to speak to Terzo for the rest of the week.

—o—

[purlty23]

Secrets - Copia x Rain ficlet

Rating: M for mature and M for murder ghoul

CW: Blood, gore, fear, angst, implications of other ghouls being sent back to the Pit

Word count: under 400

Synopsis: Copia accidentally bears witness to the tail end of a violent lapse of control. Before he's even Papa, he has a chance to prove his loyalty to his pack.

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“Are you scared?”

Yes. “No.”

A sharp hiss against the shell of Copia's ear punctuated his fuck up. Rain's arms tightened around him from behind. “Don't lie to me… please.”

All power drained from that siren voice in one measly little word. A plea on frantic, blood-soaked lips.

“I can smell it on you.”

The ghoul's voice twisted in a way Copia had never had the honor of hearing before. His heart thudded stupidly inside of his chest. He could imagine himself much like an insect caught up in the water ghoul's long limbs. His thin wings fluttered uselessly in his imagination.

“Cardinal.” Rain breathed out the title.

Copia couldn't smell anything aside from death. It plumed from the ghoul's mouth, fresh enough to taste. The tang of blood echoed off the walls of the dark, secluded alcove. Bits and pieces of what he could only assume used to be a member of his soon-to-be congregation were splayed across the stone floor, blood pooling into every little crevice.

“Do you know what it's like… to feel so hungry? To be so empty?” Rain asked.

The leather of his gloves creaked as his sweaty palms clenched anxiously. The back of his neck felt clammy and sensitive. The melancholic drip to his ghoul's line of questioning made Copia's throat go dry. He shook his head with one sharp jerk.

Claws clicked over each of the buttons on his cassock as Rain's hand moved up. Warm, sticky fingers against Copia's neck had him gasping.

Without any fabric between their skin, he could feel the minute tremble in Rain's hand. Sparks of white hair came into view on his left side, where horns soon dug into his shoulder. The shudder he felt was followed by a wet sob.

“Help me.”

“Wh… R… Rain?”

A rasp like a death rattle shook through the demonic form currently pressed to his back. Unable to see, Copia could only feel the way his clothes were growing heavy, wet. Rain wanted it this way. Even at his most dangerous, still so painfully shy. “Don't let her send me back.”

Stern eyes and a warning played through Copia's head.

'Do not let things get out of hand.'

His hand met those soft white curls, now stained pink throughout. The way his touch was leaned into before it even landed gave him enough confidence to speak, even if still short of breath.

They would both have Hell to pay if anyone found out. If.

“Our little secret, Rainbow. Let us... let's get this cleaned before anyone sees."