#jossambird fic

[jossambird]

Rooted in your love - P7: Forlorn Hope

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

Word count: 5.5k

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

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

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

A03 link, to read all previous chapters and chapter 7! (Or masterlist on profile!)

Song Inspiration for Rooted In Your Love 💕

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

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

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

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

“Fail as a Papa…”

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

“Fail as a friend…”

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

“Fail as…”

It sought to dig its taloned nails into his clavicle-

“… her caretaker…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A mission to see you.

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

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

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

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

“Trouble sleeping again, Cardinal?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Silence.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Cardinal! One moment, if you please.”

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

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

Had he just asked that-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But also, the scent of…

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

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

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

Yes, your name deserved to be remembered.

—————————

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

“Why is it that you kissed me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are those Primo’s favorite sleep pants?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Idiot! Do not ask such things!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Terzo-“

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[oranpo]

Unrequited Anguish Lose hanahaki inspired piece that came to be after I binged read @jossambird "Rooted In Your Love" . This piece does not follow any key moments from the fic, but Secondo's worry and anguish during this story (chef's kiss) I HAD to draw something for it. Please support Jossambird's beautiful works, i cannot recommend them enough😩! Especially if you are a Secondo stan And I hope to draw another fanart to make justice to your fic, it's one of my faves rn hfoshs

#Ghost #Ghost band #ghost bc #the band ghost #the band ghost bc #ghost fanart #ghost bc fanart #the band ghost fanart #papa emeritus ii #papa emeritus secondo #secondo #secondo emeritus #hey hey secondhoes pspspspsps #come get your food #he's my fave and for some reason i enjoy drawing him suffering what does that say about me #anyways JOSSAMBIRD: YOUR FIC #i know i've sent you endless messages DMs kudos and AO3 comments talking about how much I adore how you write Secondo #Legit you take my breath away with every single word you write 😭💚💚 #the way Rooted In Your Love has such a chokehold on me.. you can't even imagine #AND BLANKETED IN YOUR LOVE AHHHHHH (LOSES MY MIND) #it makes me very happy that a lot of people are following your work cause you honestly deserve it!!!! #the way YOU WRITE #I really find it fun sharing dumb little headcanons about Secondo with you... 🥺 I really can't wait to see what you will post next ;;!!! #I hope one day I can sit down and properly make fanart for the actual events #but for now we ball (we ball: I cry over imagining Secondo suffering with hanahaki sobbu) #i will post close ups later on! #oranpo art

[ghostussy]

Secondo x Teen, Sleepless reader (Platonic) 

Cuddles with the old man

. . .

     “You’re up late.” Secondo didn’t look up from the TV as you entered the common room. 

     “Couldn’t sleep,” you say matter-of-factly. You move to stand next to the couch he’s lying on, eyeing the screen in front of you. “What are you watching so late at night? Don’t you have an early bedtime?”

     “Don’t you have a bedtime? I’m an adult,” he retorts, “and I’m watching some nature documentary.” 

     “You would enjoy a nature documentary.” There was a teasing tone to your voice. 

     “Now, just what in the hell do you mean by that?!” He moved to sit up, giving you a playful, yet devious look. You took a few steps back, giggling. 

     “Only old people like nature documentaries!”

     “Who are you calling old?” 

     “You, old man!” He sits up further, stretching his arm out to grab at your arm playfully. You jump back further, out of his reach; he settles back into the cushions in defeat. “That’s not very nice.”

     “You’re lucky this old man is too tired to get up off of this damn couch.”

     “Whatever. You wouldn’t do anything to me anyway. We all know I’m your favorite, you just won’t admit it.”

     “That’s what you think, idiota.”

      “Rude!” You move to sit on the other end of the couch, and he moves his legs to allow you more space. 

     “Are you really going to watch?”

     “Well, yeah. I don’t have anything better to do.”

     He shot you a look. “You could go back to bed.” 

     “I already told you, I couldn’t sleep.” You covered your mouth with your hand, stifling a yawn.

     “Why not?” He sits up, looking at you.

      “Not sure. Last night I only slept a couple of hours, so I thought I could sleep better tonight. Guess not.”

      “Hm.” He laid back down, looking back at the TV. 

      “Why are you still up?”

      “I also couldn’t sleep.”

      “Oh.” 

      The two of you sat like that for a while, watching the documentary. Occasionally, you would offer a snarky comment, to which he would respond with a light chuckle or mumble something sarcastic. After an hour of this, Secondo looked over to you. 

     “Hey, kiddo?”

     “Hm?” You glanced over at him, the trance you had begun to enter now interrupted. 

     “You getting tired yet?” His voice was low, sounding as though he was on the brink of sleep.

     You yawned. “Yeah, a little.” Your voice was low as well, to your surprise. “You?”

     He hummed. “Yes.”

     “One last episode?”

     “Sure.”

     Another minute passed, and you found yourself wishing to lie down. Unfortunately, much of the couch was already occupied, preventing you from doing so. After a few seconds of pondering, you thought of a solution. “Hey, Secondo?”

     “Hm?”

      “Can I lay with you?”

     “Aw, is someone getting sleepy?”

      You groaned. “No, you’re taking up the entire couch!”

     He laughed, looking over at you. “Vieni qui, piccolino mio. (Come here, my little one.)” He held his arms open, allowing you to crawl in between them, laying with your stomach to the couch and resting your head on his soft belly. You kept your face trained on the TV, though you weren’t really paying attention anymore. You wrapped your arms around him, sleepily pulling yourself as close as possible. He carefully grabbed a blanket off of the back of the couch, draping it over the two of you. “Remember,” he adjusted the blanket up to your chin, “just this one last episode. Then it’s bedtime, si?”

     “Yeah,” you mumbled dreamily. Secondo snaked his arms around you, rubbing gentle shapes into your back. His warmth bled into you, trapped beneath the soft blanket you were wrapped in. You brought an arm up, holding your hand close to your face so that you could bury your face into the soft material of your sweater sleeve. Your eyelids fluttered, and you fought to keep them open. The sounds from his stomach combined with his slow breathing were lulling you to sleep, and you felt soft and comforted by his presence. You were not looking forward to going back to your own bed. 

     A few moments later, you were fast asleep. Soft snores left your mouth, only to be muffled by Secondo’s stomach and your sweater sleeve. He looked down at you, a content, relaxed smile on his face; he always loved it when you were sleepy around him. Despite being a teenager and generally against touch, you always became clingy once the exhaustion had set in. Of course, Secondo loved every moment of it, and he enjoyed catering to your comfort. Passing his fingers through your hair, rubbing your back, humming or singing gently; anything to keep you under, to receive the rest you so desperately needed. 

     He knew you hadn’t been sleeping well these past few weeks. You were often awake half the night; always kept awake by arthritis, or nightmares, or anxious thoughts. He knew how much you struggled through each day. No matter how many times you insisted you were fine, he could always see the shadows that had formed under your eyes, the way your shoulders sagged, and your slow movements. Understandably so; he estimated that you were only getting a few hours of sleep each night. He wished he could help you more often; unfortunately for him, you were still a teenager, and a stubborn one at that. Each time he brought up your sleeping habits, you insisted that you were fine. He never believed you, of course, so he always made it known that any time you struggled to rest you could ask him for help. You never did, but every so often you became desperate or frustrated enough to seek him out, much like tonight. 

     Secondo was brought from his thoughts when the end credits of the episode began to play. With a heavy sigh, he patted your shoulder in an attempt to rouse you. 

     “Y/n, bambino mio, it is time to awaken.” You stirred, but didn’t react otherwise. “Come on, stellina. It is time for bed.” You pressed yourself further into him, sucking in a deep breath before a long, drawn out whine escaped your lips. You wrapped your arms even tighter around him in protest, yawning into the fabric of his shirt. “Sei molto coccolone stasera (you are very cuddly tonight.) Come, let us get you tucked into bed, where young children such as yourself belong, si?”

     “Noooooo.”

     “No?” He wasn’t quite sure how you managed it, but you pressed your face even further into his belly, yawning once more. “Look at you, cara. All tuckered out, falling asleep here in my arms. Let’s get you to a bed. Come on, let’s go.” He moved to sit up, much to your dismay. 

     “M’ awake... ‘nother episode?” 

     “No.”

      “Please?”

      This time, it was Secondo’s turn to yawn. “Still no.” He stood carefully, somehow managing to push you off of him and into the soft cushions of the couch. Once he was steady on his feet, he lifted you into his strong grasp; your head fell loosely against his shoulder, and you yawned once more. Your limbs hung limply, save for one arm that lay across your midriff. 

     “’M not tired.”

     “Is that so?”

      “Mhm.”

      “Well, in that case- you wouldn’t be opposed to, ah, how is it that you kids call it? Hang out in my bedroom for a little while? Maybe watch a movie, read a book?”

      “’Kay.”

     “Alright then.”

     The walk to Secondo’s room was slow, yet comforting. You were perfectly content in his arms, swaying slightly with each steady footstep. Your head shifted every now and then, but you paid it no mind as the gentle swaying motions lulled you back into sleep. Your eyes drifted closed as your breathing and heartbeat slowed once more, only for the blissful feeling to be interrupted once he arrived at his bedroom door. 

     Quietly, the two of you slipped inside. You became more alert at the change in scenery, opening your eyes fully and lifting your head. You whined slightly when you were placed onto the bed, away from his warmth. 

     “Un momento, dolcezza,” he whispers, removing your shoes and helping you underneath the covers. “There we go. All nice and cozy, si?”

     “Papa,” you whined, relaxing into the pillows. Your eyelids were barely open, fluttering as you fought to stay awake. 

     “Yes?”

      You sleepily removed your arms from the covers, clumsily reaching out and throwing them around his neck. He chuckled, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his warm embrace. You sighed, eyes drifting closed once more. 

     “Y/n?” 

     Silence. 

      He carefully settled you back into the pillows, supporting your head and back within his strong, secure hold. Your arms fell away unceremoniously, having gone completely lax. He bundled you up in blankets once more, stepping away to change into his nightwear. He returned a moment later in sweatpants and a white t-shirt, his papal paints having been washed off. 

     He climbed underneath the covers, leaving plenty of space between the two of you. As he turned out the lamp and got comfy, he heard shifting from your side of the bed. Before he knew it, you were clinging to him once more, arms wrapped around his middle as you pressed your face into the crook of his arm. 

     “Papa?” 

     “Yes, child?” 

     “I’m tired.”

     “Hm.” He adjusted the blanket, pulling it up to your face before beginning to rub soft, slow circles on your back. “I couldn’t tell. In that case, dolce, why don’t you rest a moment? I will still be here.”

     “Okay.” You didn’t say another word the rest of the night. 

#secondo x reader #secondo cuddles #soft secondo #somebody sedate me jossambird infected me with the secondo loving curse #I gotta get me a piece of that old man fr #I am so not being normal about this #the band ghost #drabbles #why yes every time I worked on this fic it was at least 1 am why do you ask #zoo is feeling needy sorry

[slptkns]

Consequences

[Prolouge]

[This is going to be a multi chapter fic! With several endings, one for each Papa!]

Summary: Copia asks you for a favor... One that would be best to refuse, but you can't quite tell him no. Leaving you in a not so ideal situation.

Warnings: Blood, reader uses a knife to cut their own hand, Reader is Witchy

A/N: I was listening to music, as per usual, when an Idea struck me, not as usual, and just had to write it. This is the prologue of that idea! I plan on fleshing this bad by out some (not too much my tiny brain can only handle so much)! This started out as an idea for solely Terzo but then I went Buck Wild and thought "what if all Papas??" @jossambird

Copia stared at you with a longing and hopefulness that you hadn’t seen anyone in your line of work feel in a very long time. Your stomach was in knots and you truly felt ill. You stared back at Copia with concern.

“So…” He trailed off. “You’d be able to bring them back?”

You sighed and ran a hand through your hair, “I- I can’t make any promises.”

That was all he needed to hear from you. “But! There is a chance?”

“There will be consequences if this works!”

“But, it could work!” Copia looked as if he was ready to sprint around you and yell and scream ‘hooray’. You hadn’t even done a single thing yet, and he was already ready to sing your praises.

“Can we just-” You pinched the bridge of your nose, “-get on with this?”

“Of course, cara!”

You gulped and you swore the sound echoed through the room. Copia grabbed your hand and began to pull you down the empty hallway. Normally you would be taking in every little thing surrounding you, but you were making a conscious effort to not do that this time. You wanted to know as little as possible if you happened to get in trouble.

Copia brought you into a large room and you had to immediately stop yourself from being sick. Primo, Secondo, and Terzo lay there. Lifeless. Haphazardly put together and placed in a sort of circle.

“You didn’t do this yourself.”

“No, I had Aether and Mountain help!” He sounded proud of himself.

“What are they going to think-” You stopped yourself and asked what was most pressing to you, “Am I going to die for doing this?”

Copia, instead of answering, moved deeper into the room and motioned for you to follow him. “C’mon cara, this way! We set up a place just for you!” He pointed towards the center of the men.

“Ah, thanks.”

You mumbled a couple 'I'm sorry's as you moved past their lifeless bodies and sat in the middle of the circle. You crossed your legs and placed your hands on your thighs. You looked up at Copia and he gasped, a light going off in his head.

“Here, take this!”

“Holy shit,” You looked at the large knife, “Did you have to get one this big? I mean, a kitchen knife would have worked just fi-” Copia’s stare caught you off guard and you stopped yourself, “This will do, thank you!” You forced a smile and grabbed the large what might as well have been a machete of a knife.

You motioned for Copia to step back. And he gladly obliged, watching you with a smile from across the room. You inhaled and shakily took the knife to your opposite palm. You mumbled a quick prayer to literally whoever was listening to you, in hopes of not dying on the spot when starting the ritual.

You began to speak softly, chanting a spell that you had learned was probably the worst one to purposely use. You dragged the knife down your palm and let out a whine, wincing from the pain. You did not slow your spell though.

In fact, you slowly grew louder.

As soon as a bit of your blood hit the circle lying beneath you, it began to spread. It was quickly replacing the chalk they had used to outline everything for you. You felt something grab a hold of you. Your back arched and your eyes began to roll in the back of your head, and suddenly you weren’t in control anymore.

Your spell grew louder, voices that were not yours taking over, and the room was shifting. Everything was shifting. Copia stood in shock as your hands hit the ground and your nails scraped the concrete floor. You were fighting futilely to gain control back of the situation. To gain control of your own body.

You needed it to all stop.

Your face began to grow warm. Blood dripping from your nose. Your head snapped back and you gasped for air, the chanting suddenly stopping. A scream ripped from your throat. A blood curdling scream. One that made Copia’s hair stand on end.

You fell back onto the concrete and let out another, quieter scream and your entire body tensed. Your eyes returned to normal, you regained control, but the damage was done. A cool, metallic taste hit your tongue and you cried out for help.

Your vision blurred, but you could still see Copia. Or his silhouette. You lied on your side and lifted your head slightly. He began to run towards you, but as soon as he was near you, he froze. You reached up for him and let out another whimper of pain.

“Please… Help…”

Your head fell back against the concrete and as your consciousness faded, you saw movement. You saw a silhouette in front of you. Your heavy breathing slowed and your eyes shut.

“Oh, my-”

A voice you were not familiar with was the one you heard last. A hand touched your side and then a cold you had never felt before enveloped you.

Unknown to you, the ritual had worked, and you had brought back the three Papas just as Copia had asked. And with that, you, and everyone else, would have to face the consequences of your actions and everything that was about to unfold because of you.

#the band ghost #ghost bc #cardinal copia #ghost fanfiction #papa iv #copia x reader #papa copia #popia #terzo #terzo x reader #secondo x reader #primo x reader #papa emeritus iii #papa emeritus i #papa emeritus ii

[gggoldfinch]

figured i'd dig this puppy out of storage and present you with the most plot-relevant outfit designs for Reader (plus a self-insert hehe) from my unhinged TUA fic Something Good, after years and years and years

Waitress dress seam isn’t ripped, haven’t been in any violent brawls, no one’s been thrown out the window… yet. I have a severe emotional attachment to chapter 12 of my own fic.

(Click for better quality. Do not repost :) )

(Obligatory @jossambird and @shiversdownyerspine tags because they’ve remained my fellow fandom elders since ye olden days of 2020)

#approximately like 4 people will care about this lmfaooo #catering to a dead fandom ❤️ #I actually really really love this piece #don't underestimate the hoops i had to jump through to post this lmaooo. it was a learning curve with the new pc #tua the swedes #goldfinch draws #goldfinch writes #I refuse to tag normal tua tags because I hate that fucking fandom space and they hate me. we have a history

[persephone-has-a-blog-now]

hello how are you?? i just wanted to say i’m a huge fan of your work and i find it so cool that you seem to have something for every fandom that i’m in!! the new ghost works are really the icing on the cake :) i was also wondering if you have any ghost fics you would recommend - 🕸️

Hello, hello, I'm good 🕸️, hope you're doing good.

First of all thank you so much for liking my work, it's great people like my stuff. Appreciate it.

And for fic recommendations, hum let me think. I've been reading a lot of ongoing series lately but I'll try to think of some stand alone works as well.

Most of these are probably female reader and some gn reader, so sorry if you're looking for some male reader fics, I can look into some male read stuff if you want?

Series:

I knew nothing but shadows by @writingjourney , the fic can be found on Ao3 only (though she does have some fics on her Tumblr)

Copia x female reader, ongoing, 2 chapters.

The reader in this one is painting Copia's Papa portrait, that's all I'm giving you.

Oh my gosh this one, despite only being fairly new, has gripped me. Chef's kiss.

There's only two chapters as of writing this but they are long (longer than a lot of one shots anyway) and really just go and read it.

Please read it.

Rooted in your love by @jossambird , the fic can be found on Ao3 and Tumblr.

Multiple love interests (Copia, Terzo, Secondo and Primo), ongoing, six chapters.

The reader has Hanahaki disease, the other Papas find out and befriend her/help her.

The op says there are going to be multiple endings for each Papa which is cool. There's only six chapters so far buy they are SO GOOD.

Like the last time I read a Hanahaki fic was when I was 13 (so like 2012-13) and they were all written by edgy 13 y/os so to see a really good writer take on the theme/au/what ever you call it is really cool.

This is a gift (it comes with a price) by @moonlight-serenades , though I believe the fic is only on Ao3.

A Copia x female reader, ongoing, 17 chapters.

The reader inherits her dead uncle's occult book shop along with all the odd stuff that goes along with it (having Copia come by often, ghouls, the local Christians being up in arms etc etc).

There is smut if that's you thing but the story is plot heavy and not just written for the smut.

How can I describe it without spoilers, um angsty but the reader and Copia are sickeningly in love.

I want to bonk them on the head.

Basically all the ongoing Papa i fics on Ao3 I'm reading and like but that's because I really like peepaw .

Stand alone/one shots (please note these are ones I thought of off the top of my head so there's probably some I'm missing):

Anything by @goorehound on tumblr.

They (sorry goorehound I don't know your pronouns...) have written some really good Ghost and Mary Goore fics if you're interested in that.

Depending on the request there is a lot of gender neutral reader stuff which is brilliant so anyone can read.

Love their work dearly.

Blanketed in your Love by @jossambird , not sure if it's cross posted by I found it on Ao3.

Secondo x reader

Reader is crying in a chapel and Secondo find her and comforts her.

Simple and sweet but I have re-read it a couple of times now.

Mistletoe Mini One Shots! by @whatawonderfulexistence--blog on tumblr.

Headcanons, the reader with various Papas and ghouls.

I know it's holiday themed but I read it the other day and blushed.

I think we all want to kiss the Papas and ghouls.

She has tons other fics on her blog too!

There's so many fics I've missed so if anyone has an suggestions I'm happy to hear about them. Hope this helps 🕸️!

(I should also have some more Ghost fics posted on Ao3 soon!)

#forgive any typos i wrote this late last night #i'm only posting it now...

[the-swedes-knees]

I'm trying to find fanfic about the swedes but it's hard. Do you have any fanfic to recommend? P.s. I love your fanfic so much! ❤

💞Thank you anon!💞

It is hard to find Swedes fics! There aren’t many, unfortunately, which was the driving force for me writing my own

My general advice for searching on AO3 would be to look under the character tags for either Otto or Oscar (Axel is used in a lot of other UA fics)

In no particular order some of my favorites are (I’m gonna tag the creators):

I’m giving up so just catch me by @jossambird*

Something Good by @itsminorine*

Aftermath by 4ever_Rewritten @snippychicke*

Reversed by @royalydamned

To Watch The World Burn by @amoradastra*

Commissioning color by SleepiSaurus

The Same Rainbow’s End by TheArgentMoon

*also has swedes oneshots/headcanons

There is also one on fanfiction.net that’s called Escort (full disclosure I haven’t read most of it because it was too raunchy for me, but the premise is very good)

Me and a few others mentioned above also do take short fic/headcanon requests (I’m still working through a few, got delayed for personal reasons) so check their tumblrs!

I’m sure I’ve missed some, these are just what came to mind first. If anyone wants to plug their own fic feel free!

#tua the swedes #the swedes fics #ikea mafia

[jossambird]

Rooted in your love - P6: Darkened slumbers and warm hands.

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

Word count: 5k

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

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

Chapter summary: You wake from your strange slumber and have a tender moment with the Papa who’s been at your side since the beginning. A coincidental meeting leads to a new friendship, with the man under the façade.

Author’s note: No Cardinal Copia or Papa Secondo in chapter, but the next? 👀

AO3 Link

Part 1 🌿 - Part 2 🌿 - Part 3 🌿 - Part 4 🌿 - Part 5 🌿

.

.

Slowly did your senses come back to you, soft light shining against your eyelids just like it did in the early mornings, waking you from the slumber you weren’t aware you had taken. Warmth was the second thing you became aware of; a heavy but comfortable weight enveloped you as the gentle scent of Primo’s cologne and aftershave hit you next, allowing you to deduce that you were most likely in his bed, cocooned in whatever blankets and sheets he’d found.

Normally, you would have smiled at the man’s adoring gestures to make you comfortable, were you not as confused as you currently were.

No longer were you in the dark mausoleum, it’s hollowed and empty halls filled with whispering voices and shadowed hands… Try as you might, you found you could not remember what the voices had spoken against the shell of your ear, blackened words now vague, hazy. Had they whispered honeyed lies into your ears while their shadowed hands pawed at your calves and feet? Or had they whispered prophecies that only gods should ever know about, things that were always destined to happen, no matter how much you fought back? Why had it called to you? What had beckoned you into its halls, promises of eternal peace lingering in the air?

You remembered not how you came to be within Primo’s chambers, however, full glad were you to be here instead of in a dreary hospital bed. Papa Emeritus I’s bedroom was adorned of red and black furniture… well, excluding the various colored knick-knacks you had gifted to him. Each item shone in its respective place, the bright colors almost appearing to clash with Primo’s beautiful pieces of furnishings. You sighed a quiet chuckle, remembering how adamantly Primo had expressed not caring about his other furniture compared to your gifts. The memory of him trying to prove his words by kicking his chair, only to hurt his toe almost made you start laughing again, hearing all over again how teasingly annoyed he’d been.

“Oh, how mean, to laugh at your Papa’s pain, il mio fiore!” Primo had grumbled as he’d fought against the smile that threatened to overtake his lips, eyes unsuspectingly trailed only on your laughing visage.

With effort, your tired eyes searched for either Papas as your body weakly protested, unwilling to obey your command to move just yet. You felt drained, so impossibly drained, fingers flexing once more to regain some semblance of control. How long exactly had you been out cold? Had you even been asleep the whole time, or had you been delirious enough to have thought so?

Whatever movement it was that you’d made, it successfully caught the attention of a man you had come to care deeply for, his mismatched gaze soothing you in ways you could hardly begin to explain. Primo’s visage entered your field of view, features equally taunt in both worry and relief, an almost sad smile playing along his unpainted lips whilst his eyes radiated words he dared not speak aloud.

“Hi…” You croaked, the smile that began overtaking your features making you seem like an Unholy Angel to the Papa seated at your bedside. He could scarcely believe it; here you were, waking from what he feared would be your final slumber, only to smile so radiantly at the sight of him.

“Hello, il mio Bambino.” Primo whispered back, hand reaching out to brush against your cheek softly. A light chuckle escaped from between his lips as you turned into his touch, soaking in the warmth of his ungloved hand. Whatever the amount of time was that you had been asleep, it appeared to have taken a toll on the both of you. A sense of fatigue rolled off of Primo’s form, most likely due to the fact that you’d occupied his bed for who-knows how long, leaving him to sleep on his armchair.

“Full glad am I to see you awake.”

“Full glad am I to be awake.” You tried to smile, tongue poking out to run along your dry bottom lip. Primo wondered if it was entirely by instinct that his dissimilar eyes shot down to watch the movement before common sense hit him, blinking and standing to get you a glass of water.

“Scusa Bambino, your Papa is… tired.” Came his voice from his kitchen, hurriedly making his way back towards you, a smile gracing his lips once more. You happily accepted the water, slowly moving to seat yourself up so as to not choke.

“How are you feeling?”

You pondered the question as you greedily drank, mind still hazy.

“Confused… I, uh… don’t really remember much.”

“Yes, I had assumed you would not. You gave us quite the scare.” The Papa replied, smile pained as he moved to gingerly hold your hand, thumb rubbing circles onto your skin. It did not escape your notice that Primo spoke as if it were a miracle you had survived, as if you had narrowly escaped Death’s cold clutches. Greedily did you take in his unpainted features, suddenly fearing you had not memorized them enough before it came time for you to truly eternally rest.

“What are your last recollections of?” He continued after a silent moment, fingers continuing their soft patterns against your own. The memories within your mind seemed to blend together, the beginnings and the ends mixing as you attempted to understand them.

“It felt like… Well, it was almost like I could feel a flower crawling up my windpipe.” You couldn’t help but shudder, searching his aged visage for any clue as to what had truly happened. Primo however simply hummed, lips remained in a flat line for a brief second more before speaking.

“You would be correct, il mio Bambino.” The man that had cared for you like no other ever had whispered, dissimilar eyes appearing far away as a memory played in his mind’s eye, fingers halting in their movements against your hand. Like this, with his unpainted skin free for your eyes to take in, Papa Emeritus I almost seemed… weary, tired… heartbroken. Had his Papal paints always hidden his emotions so well? Could the same also be said for Secondo? Or was the fate you had chosen for yourself hurting the man more then he chose to let on-

Suddenly, the significance of what had just transpired finally registered within you mind whilst your eyes rapidly blinked: Primo had most likely been the one to extract the flower from your throat, given his advanced knowledge on the subject of Hanahaki Disease and botany.

Primo, the sweet man that had taken care of you oh so softly for weeks now, had most likely sat beside your slumbering form this whole time, anxiously awaiting for you to awake. The visible relief that had coated his words and visage after you’d awoken further solidified how uncertain he must have felt at his own handiwork.

Primo, the Papa that had saved your life that first night he had found you, had once more saved you from Death’s sweet embrace.

“Papa Primo, I’m sorry-” You tried, throat constricting as tears began to pool behind your closed eyelids, spilling once more upon your heated cheeks. The man before you abandoned his hold on your hand to instead lean forward, hands coming to cup your face in barely contained adoration.

“Come now, fiore, there is nothing to apologize for. However, I do not believe I am THAT ugly without my paints.” Primo’s teasing tone successfully pulled a surprised laugh from your lips, mismatched eyes lighting up at your smile. That very light, so soft and tender and filled with warmth soothed your pain while your hand moved to hold one of his own.

“Ah, there is la mia farfalla I’ve come to know.”

“Is- Is Papa Secondo alright?” You decided to change the subject, sniffling as you attempted to rein in your emotions. Now was not the time to further the worries that already visibly ate at Papa Primo’s heart.

You hoped that the worry you felt for the second Emeritus son didn’t shine brightly upon your features but it most likely did. Papa Primo, as graceful as ever, continued to smile, almost appearing to not have heard your words as he leaned back once more to sit down, hand resuming into soft patterns upon your skin.

“Sì. As I, mio fratello will be most pleased to see that you have awoken.” Primo nodded sagely, knowing just how elated his brother would be at your awoken state. Suddenly remembering where the second Emeritus son had gone, Primo turned in his chair, eyes landing on his clock. He tsk’ed, thumb absentmindedly running along your knuckles.

“Although… I believe Secondo disappeared to fetch food. Seeing as you have only just awoken, I fear he will have failed to prepare you anything. One moment, I shall call for a ghoul-“

“Please allow me to go, Papa Primo!”

In hindsight, you felt horrible for the small lie you let tumble from your pale lips; it wasn’t that you wanted to be alone per se, you simply wished to save Papa Primo from seeing the torrent of tears that threatened to overtake you. You didn’t want to burden the man more than what you had already burdened him with, and anyways, perhaps a good cry would help reorient your mind, right?

The eldest Emeritus son couldn’t fathom what feelings had overtaken you, your visage appearing to be a cross between nausea and anxiety. Were you maybe trying to find a moment alone, to sort through your thoughts and fears? Or did you require a moment to let everything that had happened settle within your mind?

You, however, wasted no time as you began to peel away the multiple layers of blankets that had enveloped you, relieved to see you still wore your undergarments and a casual white shirt. A gentleman as always, Primo rushed to help you, aged hands softly assisting you to your feet.

“Here, la mia farfalla, allow me to help you, before you go onto your quest.”

Slowly did Primo aid you in redressing yourself, mismatched eyes closed as always as he passed you your habit after you smilingly turned down his offer to wear his monogrammed bathrobe. If anyone caught you wearing such a personal clothing item outside of Primo’s own chambers, rumors would be the least of your worries.

As you slowly shuffled into a pair of sleep pants Primo had found for you, you couldn’t help but wonder how many Siblings had been offered his bathrobe after spending… private time with him.

Unbeknownst to you, the answer had always been zero, but now, it was one, which the first Emeritus son internally admitted he liked. Quite alot, actually, vowing that no matter how much time would pass from this moment on, it would always ever remain one, you.

After a few more sweet moments of Primo fretting after you, you slowly made your way out the door, once more reassuring the gentle Papa of the recon mission you said would be ‘quick’. The soft slippers you wore allowed you to effortlessly glide through the darkened halls, the gentle night’s atmosphere rendering the Abbey’s usually bustling aura tranquil, peaceful, even.

Uncertainty clouded your mind as you registered where your feet had brought you, eyes staring at the chapel you knew well; it was the chapel that housed a beautiful statue of the Olde One, one that many found themselves praying to in times of need. Had your subconscious brought you here? Or had… someone beckoned you here, just as something had beckoned you to the mausoleum within your dreams? A chill climbed up your spine at the thought but you paid it no mind as you advanced into the chapel, hands pushing its doors open.

How eerie it felt to be here alone, tired eyes trailing forward to the front where your beloved Cardinal usually stood, unaware of your presence. You could almost imagine him here now, commanding your attention as he praised the Dark Lord with words that had been spoken so many times before but his sounding genuine, as it should be.

That was just how he was, wasn’t it? Passionate was he in his devotion, and dedicated was he to serving and spreading the Olde One’s Unholy name.

You finally seated yourself at the front pew, gazing up at the statue that towered over you, its black marble shining.

“I hope you don’t mind, my Lord, that I can’t kneel before you. I’m.. unsure if I will be able to stand back up.”

No words were offered back to your tearful declaration, your failed attempt at humor falling flat, but you required none back, brows knitting together as a singular ray of moonlight shined upon you. You couldn’t help but smile at the ridiculous thought of it truly being the Olde One answering you, and yet… A sob tore its way out of your throat, tears now freely escaping from your eyes.

“Thank you but I- I need to ask… have I offended you, in any way, my Lord? Is it my penance to have flowers trying to tear their way out of my throat?” You asked the statue, eyes roving over its marble face for any signs of agreement. Once more did no reply come for the marbled figure, silence being your only companion as you coughed and sobbed.

You tried not to think of the first few times you had watched the Cardinal speak before the Abbey’s inhabitants; the way Copia had glided elegantly up upon the stage before tripping or knocking something over, a small awkward smile always playing upon his lips before becoming serious once more. Had he ever witnessed the smile you’d always tried to hide with a hand, fearing that your other Siblings would find you strange for laughing at the newly arrived Cardinal’s antics? Or had he ever seen the way your gaze followed him long after he had stopped speaking, your eyes trailing over his form before ripping themselves away at the slightest fear of being discovered staring?

A loud noise pulled you from your inner musings, tears continuing to slip upon your cheeks regardless of whoever was intruding on your moment alone-

There, standing at the chapel’s now opened doorway, stood a man you had never seen, watching you silently… before beginning to move forward. You panicked, hurriedly moving to stand. Fuck fuck fuck, why had you come here alone, why hadn’t you allowed Papa Primo to follow you? Your hands shook as you gripped the pew and began moving backwards, intent on putting as many obstacles between the both you-

You- You knew this man.

The man, Terzo, slowed his advancement towards you as he took notice of your growing confusion, instead choosing to stand a ways away from you at the beginning of your pew. His face, which normally was adorned with his Papa paints, was now bare. You’d never seen the third Emeritus son without his paints; he almost appeared… Vulnerable. Exposed… Alone. Gone was the cocksure man that had boldly assumed you were his brother’s Prime Mover.

For a moment, Terzo seemed to hesitate at your visible anxiety, frozen like a deer in headlights, your gaze being the only thing keeping him rooted where he stood. It was only once your eyes flickered down to see the flowers he desperately clutched onto did you begin to understand the reason for his sudden appearance; the bouquet of flowers, beautifully grown and vibrant, were yellow Daffodils and Jonquils.

You almost cried at how cruel life was, eyes flickering to the side to gaze upon the statue of Satanas. You decided to save the frozen Papa before you, speaking first while taking a step forward, seating yourself once more at the pew you had occupied.

“Hello, Papa.” You smiled, waiting for the man to move. He didn’t, remaining frozen where he stood, mismatched eyes glazed over as he silently watched you.

“How did you know that those are my favorite flowers?” You tried again, softer this time, voice barely over a whisper but it seemed to have worked, causing the Papa before you to rapidly blink as he cleared his throat.

“Eh… I asked one of my ghouls what flowers would be… appropriato. These are what he brought me.” He trailed off, eyes flickering over your form. You filed that bit of information away for later, remaining silent as Terzo searched his words.

“T-they are for you, to apologize for…”

Never had you witnessed such emotions overtake his usually confident visage. You’d almost been stunned completely silent at his uncharacteristic stutter, were it not for the fear you recognized in his eyes. You knew of fear, knew of the way it clawed at your insides sometimes, seizing your body when air failed to enter your lungs, visceral fear that made your heart hammer against the bones that contained it. Why did Papa Emeritus III gaze at you so, fear within his majestic eyes-

He continued before you could question him, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

“I.. “ He tried once more, as if suddenly debating on whether to speak or not. You continued to smile, hoping it would help calm his nerves. It seemed to do everything but as his eyebrows furrowed.

“I had feared the last words you would hear this idiota of a Papa speak be the uh.. insensitive words I spoke at unholy breakfast. I apologize, I truly had believed you to be pregnant with my fratello’s child…” He spoke as though it had been days ago, as if it had been eating away at his heart ever since… You were hit with the sudden realization that you knew not what day it currently was.

“Thank you, Papa, but you need not apologize to me.”

“Pshh, per favore, bella, no ‘Papa’ business. Not when it is just us.” Terzo easily countered, a light tilt of his lips overtaking him.

You bowed your head, a gesture to show you understood your Papa’s words, a smile ever-present on your lips. He came to you now as a being other than his role as Papa, other than the Satanic Church leader that had confidently flung a bold accusation to your face.

“How long have I been sleeping, Terzo?”

Terzo cringed, wincing as his gaze flickered anywhere but to you.

“3 days.”

The knowledge of how many days had passed since you had last been awake allowed you to fully see just how disheveled Terzo appeared to be: his hair seemed to be less than stellar, a far cry from his usual impeccable coiffure. His suit, normally ironed to perfection, was crumpled. But most of all, it was his eyes that completely gave him away.

Terzo’s beautifully dissimilar eyes were bloodshot, as if he were unable to sleep correctly ever since, as if unable to close for longer than a few hours at a time, as if opened for nearly 3 days-

“Terzo, please sit with me.” Your voice cracked, hand patting the spot beside you. Had the third Emeritus son also remarked each of your glaringly obvious blemishes? Had he gazed at your unhidden throat, wondering why Primo had practically squirreled you away within his chambers, hidden from anyone except for Secondo and he?

Only after he had acquiesced, silently taking up the spot beside you did you speak again, turning your body as to face him more. You tried not to remark the beauty mark under his right eye, wondering absentmindedly if any other Siblings had remarked it just as you had.

“You said you believed me to be with child, why?”

Your words caused the man to fidget with the bouquet, still unable to meet your gaze, his ungloved hands tightening momentarily around the flowers stems before letting go.

“I noticed little things; eating less, eating more, your pale skin. The way Primo watched you. I had assumed they were.. well, as you can see, I assumed wrong.” Terzo let out with a chuckle, a grimace tilting his lips downward. You felt stupid, to suddenly be struck with how perceptive he was whilst he enumerated the very things he had visibly paid attention to. Of course he was, he was Papa.

You couldn’t help but laugh, surprised at the revelation.

“You know, I’d never realized that it looked like a pregnancy.”

Finally did Terzo turn to you, confusion clear within his eyes.

“It?”

That was right, Terzo knew not of what plagued your body. You’d practically gotten so used to being able to speak freely of your disease with his brothers that you’d forgotten Terzo did not know. A tear silently slipped onto your cheek, followed by another, and another once more.

Could you truly soil Terzo’s mind with the knowledge of what would happen to you one day soon? Already had that very knowledge begun to affect Papa Primo, and surely Papa Secondo as well, no matter how well he hid his feelings and thoughts from you.

“What I have.”

The wretched tingle that had now become a daily occurence clawed at your throat, as if by happenstance, begging to be let out. Oh, how cruel life was. You coughed into your hand, bloodied petals staining your palm as you withdrew it.

“Y/N, what is that?” The man beside you freaked out, voice sounding strained as he pointed at your hand.

“It’s a sickness caused by love, unrequited love, to be exact. Primo taught me about it, actually.” You muttered out, eyes closing as you wiped at your cheeks, unable- no, unwilling to see the horror that most likely painted Terzo’s features.

“Flowers grow in your lungs and after a while, they are the only thing left.”

Your words were met only with silence as Terzo digested what you had said. Unsuccessfully did you attempt to stop your tears, sniffling at the sight of your bloodied palm.

“Why would you not come to me about this?” Terzo’s words were barely above a whisper (as if fearing your answer, fearing what you would tell him) but you heard them nonetheless.

“Because you, Terzo, are Papa. Your job is far more important than being burdened with such a trivial thing.” You truthfully answered, lips stained a beautiful faded red, reminding Terzo of the faded Autumn leaves he used to love to play in when younger.

The mental puzzle pieces he had been wrestling to fit together finally fell into place within Terzo’s mind: this had been what his brothers had kept from him. This, your sickness, had been their secret.

The day he’d witnessed il Cardinale speaking to Secondo, had that been the day his fratello had learnt of your sickness? When had Primo learned of it? Far before Secondo knew, that much Terzo was certain, if he went off of his memory of you accompanying the eldest Emeritus son in his gardens. He felt his insides burn with humiliation, throat tightening as he looked at you.

“There- there must be a doctor who can remove such a thing, sì? Primo must know-” He tried, watching as you wiped away the blood and petals on the inside of your handkerchief, noticing with muted horror at the already stained inside.

“Y/N-“

“Terzo.” You spoke softly, far too softly for someone who’s throat bled constantly, and even moreso, far too softly for someone dying.

“It’s alright, this is how it is. I’ve accepted it.” You finished with a smile.

Thoughts bloomed into his mind, trying to find a way, trying to find something. Terzo knew, no matter how magnificent the Unholy One was, that not all ailments could be eased, and not all ailments could be erased.

“You know..” You started, head tilting down towards your hands before lifting once more, tired eyes looking forward as you gazed at the moonlight spilling within the chapel, illuminating the statue of the Dark Lord.

“Every day I thought ‘maybe this’ll be it’, right? ‘Maybe today I’ll not wake up, maybe today is the day I’ll never see him again, maybe today will be the day that all that I am vanishes’...”

You quieted, jaw working as you thought of your words, oblivious to the torrent of emotions that dangerously swirled within Terzo, a torrent that threatened to spill out as mismatched eyed watched tears continued to make their way down your face. Your gentle words awakened within him the reality of what would happen upon your death, eyes unable to wander away from the smile that graced your lips, oh so radiantly shining as you spoke.

“I’m really glad I haven't, Terzo. I'm so glad I haven't died yet. I wouldn’t have been able to become friends with Papa Primo, or to have been able to laugh at Papa Secondo’s dick jokes!” You sobbed softly, and just like the tide receding back into the ocean to reveal the devastation it had wrought upon land, you still shone brighter than the damage that had been wrought upon your soul.

Even as daffodils and jonquils threatened to burst out of your esophagus, your words left the man beside you awestruck as you turned fully towards him, eyes alight with an emotion he found himself unable to place, unable to grasp, heart pounding as his mind raced. Why did this feel like a goodbye? Why did he feel like he would no longer see you after this very moment, as if you would disappear from his grasp? He had only just found you; so why did he feel like he was already losing you?

Slowly, you reached out, frozen fingers delicately pulling at his own warm ones, moving to hold his hands like an innocent child would, bouquet long forgotten in his lap.

“I'm glad I was able to meet you, Terzo. Truly meet you, the you you kept hidden from everyone. Thank you for that.” You breathed out, lips quirking higher up in amusement, tears continuously staining your skin-

He surged forward, lips clumsily knocking against your own as he urgently held your face, pouring all of his fears and wants into the kiss, desperately wanting it to work-

Smaller hands shoved at his chest as you moved away from him, eyes wide as you gasped. Before you could even think to yell at him, you watched in stunned silence as tears began to roll steadily down his unpainted cheeks, long lashes drenched as he tried to hide his face.

“Forgive me, forgive me-“ Terzo tried, words choked against his own hands.

It only took mere seconds before you were on him, holding the man close as he sobbed against your shoulder, clutching at your form as words of regret poured out from between his lips of not being able to save you, not being able to heal you.

Time appeared to have stalled as the wind outside continued to blow, the both of you holding onto eachother as if the act would keep you safe, keep you alive. Neither of you were sure how much time had passed. Terzo pulled away from your neck, dissimilar eyes wide.

“Would you allow me this dance, bella?” Terzo suddenly whispered, hand poised for you to reject or accept. You couldn’t help but smile at his words, your mind wondering absentmindedly if he had ever pulled this exact move on the slim few who had rejected his advances in the past, perhaps in a way to show he was not hurt in any way by it.

Your thoughts however wandered back to his earlier words, of asking you to address him simply by Terzo; for how many years had the man before you hidden himself away? The real him that stood before you now and not the facade he seemed to wear each day?

“Is it Terzo who asks for this dance, or Papa?” Your mouth spouted before you could stop yourself, your sudden words sounding just as strange on the way out as they had momentarily tasted on your tongue. Guilt instantly washed over you as your eyes flew away from the man in self humiliation; how could you have just said that? How could you-

“Terzo, bella. For you, I would like to always simply be Terzo, no matter the company or consequences.”

You allowed yourself to be pulled out of your seat, smiling anew as Terzo began to lead you in a slow dance.

Silence enveloped the both of you as you swayed in Terzo’s hold, eyes closed as the warmth of his palms heated your cold skin. You were thankful for the gloves he had long since forgotten, remaining within his suit's front pocket, your bouquet equally forgotten as time seemed to slow between you. It was only once you opened your eyes to gaze at the man did you find his dissimilar eyes already flickering across your visage, raven brows furrowed, as if in search of something he knew not the answer to yet, puzzled at what he saw.

You wondered if he noted your fading beauty; you’d never considered yourself to be a vain person per se, but you had always tried to love yourself, love the face you had been gifted by your mother and father, love what you saw in the mirror.

How many people of any and all genders had Papa Emeritus III bedded and slept with that far surpassed you not only in beauty but in intelligence as well? You felt embarrassment climb up your spine as your gaze flickered away, wondering if he found your pallid complexion gross.

No matter how bereft of warmth you thought yourself to have grown, your cheeks only seemed to burn even brighter as Terzo leaned forward, forehead resting against your own.

“Your mind, I can hear it- troppi pensieri, hm? Let us enjoy this dance while we can.”

You acquiesced, silence enveloping the both of you, neither of you aware of the statue of the Olde One gazing down at you from where it stood.

Tag List: @starbentfool @emogrl4lyfe @nikolaiology @s0ggyrats @sirianisrock @sharksausages @moonlit-masquerade @heisenboi-writer @memento-mora @copiasghoulfriend @songbirdemerald-blog @nanamunath @entidy13 @sterilemoth @eliasexists @lightbluuestars @musingbycandlelight @tuttifuckinfruttifriday

(If I have forgotten to tag you or if you would like to be tagged, please shoot me a message via Asks or simply comment below!💖)

#jossambird fic #rooted in your love fic #tw hanahaki disease #tw hanahaki #hanahaki #hanahaki disease #cardinal copia x reader #papa emeritus i x reader #primo x reader #papa emeritus iv x reader #copia x reader #papa emeritus iii #papa emeritus ii #papa secondo #papa emeritus i #papa terzo #papa primo #the band ghost fanfiction #the band ghost

[ghostussy]

Could you link me some fluffy (or spicy, don’t matter) fics/hc/drabbles of the ghost members with sick reader? Or even specifically you know, surgery. I love the ghouls and papa platonic x kit reader or anything younger. It’s just so comforting, and everything hurts rn, not just my chest, but an ear infection for the 6th time this month.

Omg have a good day

Yeah! Unfortunately I don't have many sickfics saved, but these are some of my go-to fics. Sorry there's so many AKFJBDS

Fuck that's a lot of ear infections in a month. I'm so sorry, those are absolute fucking hell. I hope you start feeling better soon!!! <3 and HAPPY NO TIT SATURDAY!!!!!!! (for real though I hope you start feeling better!)

Aches (Mitchmatch24) is one of my personal favorites, reader gets a migraine and Aether draws it out. <3 (also please check out mitch's other fics too they're very soft!)

From the Pinnacle to the Pile (Mitchmatch24) isn't a sickfic necessarily, but it's about an overworked reader getting dragged into the ghoul pile.

Bedtime (lampisaflashlight) is really cute, Rain essentially kidnaps Dew and puts him to sleep LOL

Personal Heater (thatoddgent) is about Sodo soothing a reader with chronic pain.

Rest (milkywaybottles) is one of the first Popia x readers I ever read, I find a lot of comfort in it even now. <3 It uses the prompt, "Just go back to sleep, I'll be here when you wake up." and is overall really sweet.

kazoo comfort (ghostchems) Terzo, retired, finds the reader on a break and serenades them. with a kazoo.

lil dew ficlet (iamthecomet) my personal favorite sickfic, not an x reader but I use it to fuel my daydreams

Aether is exhausted (iamthecomet) another (kinda?) sickfic, not an x reader but Aether is running around the ministry overworking himself caring for everyone else who is sick until the ghouls stop him.

Let Me (checkerboardhorns) Copia is sleepy and the reader helps him take off his paints.

Spring Walk (writingjourney) Reader is feeling anxious, so Cardi takes them out on a walk.

Overwhelmed (joyfulfxckery) Rain and Swiss x Overworked reader during exam season.

Blanketed in your Love (jossambird) Secondo comforts a reader sobbing in his chapel.

Ghosting (writingjourney) Reader accidentally ghosts Papa (any) because they are, well. Sick as hell.

Copia takes care of you after surgery (bretty-metalhead) A really sweet set of headcanons.

Cuddles with Papa (leezlelatch) Reader visits Copia's apartment where they cuddle while watching movies.

Sniffles and Snuggles (leezlelatch) Copia takes care of you when you are sick.

Rough Day (writingjourney) Reader is cared for by Copia after a long day.

There was only one bed fireplace (sweatandwoe) It's cold as fuck in the ministry, so you get yourself and Copia kidnapped by the ghouls.

Sleepy Nights (leezlelatch) sleepy nights with copia! believe it or not I actually requested this on anon not long before I started writing and interacting with people on this site. This is the fic that inspired me to start writing, so it has a very special place in my heart <3

Sick (katyouz-deactivated) A sick reader is comforted by Copia.

/ / /the next three fics involve littlespace, if you're not comfortable with that feel free to skip! I'm don't really read littlespace but these are really soft! / / /

Stressed Copia (omoghouls) A stressed Copia fighting being little so he can finish his work.

Copia being comforted by the Ghouls (omoghouls) Copia is overworking himself.

Tiny Aether with a Caretaker Copia (omoghouls) Aether is feeling small and Copia takes care of him.

/ / /

KISS!!! (soulnottainted) Copia cuddles an OC named kelsey.

Papa Reads (honeyynymphh) Papa reads exerpts from an old text while you lie on his lap.

When you wake up (copiousloverofcopia) Reader falls asleep while waiting on Terzo to come to bed.

Insomniac (of-dragonss) Reader, an insomniac, cuddles with Copia late at night.

A Cozy Night with Copia (seestor-of-mordor) Cuddles with copia as he (attempts) to read.

Ao3 Fic recs:

You Need Not Suffer Alone (CopiaInRed) Copia comforts a depressed reader. Also be sure to check out his other fics as well cuz damn are they good! <3

3 am (themratts) Copia wakes up in the middle of the night and is comforted by his wife, Alena (OC).

Father Figure Secondo (terzosleftkidney) Reader falls asleep in the car and is carried in by Secondo.

Three's Company (emertiusslut) Cuddle party between Copia and a few of his ghouls.

Pitter Patter (Pool_rain) Swiss has been having a rough time on tour, and Copia comforts him.

Lackluster (ratpocket) I fucking love this fic. It's only 3 chapters long unfortunately but it's one of the first ghost fics I ever read and I love it so much. Copia gets bitten by vampire Terzo, and discovers that he has not been taking care of himself the way that he should.

#ghostussy asks #ask me anything :) #asks #fic recs

[royalydamned]

First Line Game

rules: list the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20,  just list them all!). see if there are any patterns, choose your favourite opening line, and then tag 10 of your favourite authors you know! (I don’t know many to begin with and I’d hate to rank us.)

Omg thank you @adelinegryffindor this looks so fun I don't have many stories started tho so I'll add the one shots as well

1. Devil's Lullaby - Supernatural fanfic, Crowley/Winchester femOC, 18k words, ongoing.

The hum of the people was louder than the music quietly playing in the background, mixing into annoying sound all around the room.

2. Antebellum - Game of Thrones/Song of Ice and Fire fanfic, Sandor Clegane/femOC, 19k words, on hiatus and in need of serious editing

Rumors spread fast.

3. Reversed - The Umbrella Academy fanfic, Axel/femOC, 15k words, deleted because it was a disaster.

Something felt wrong.

4. You Should Have Seen Your Face - Now You See Me one-shot, Merritt Mckinney/femReader, 734 words, first ever fic, stupid writing.

Merritt wasn't exactly a relationship person.

5. Things Left Unsaid - Game of thrones/Song of ice and fire one-shot, Sandor Clegane/femReader, 1416 words

Fire has always been connected to the worse things in his life.

6. The Prince's Tale - Harry Potter fanfic, Severus Snape writing challenge, ?words, deleted because I gave up.

Severus was watching how the sun was setting slowly, sky painted in bright orange and red colors as if it was on fire, yet it was so cold outside.

Connection- The short openings please I never noticed 😭 It made me so angry. It was always shortass sentence followed by something unfolding it more.

Favorite one will be The Prince's Tale? Maybe. If edited a little from all the "was", but the overall opening I like Devil's Lullaby the best.

tags: @jossambird @bush-viper-cutie @snippychicke @itsminorine @amoradastra @yoongiwastaken and I don't know if you write go do it thia is all the people I remember ❤️

[jossambird]

Rooted in your love - P2: Secondo

Cardinal Copia × F!Reader, Platonic Primo, Secondo and Terzo × F!Reader

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: Secondo’s anger and bitterness, Rough men letting themselves feel, Hanahaki Disease and all that comes with that (choking, being sick, acceptance of death, etc), Eventual Smut, Eventual 18+ acts, Angst, Unrequited Love... or is it.

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

Chapter Summary: Its on a Wednesday afternoon that Papa Emeritus II, also known as Secondo, finds you hidden in an abandoned classroom, fury evident in his harsh visage. Little did he know that this singular encounter would turn his life sideways, forcing him to reevaluate his priorities.

AO3 Link

Part 1 🌿 - Part 3 🌿 - Part 4 🌿 - Part 5 🌿 - Part 6 🌿

It had been on a Wednesday afternoon, whilst thunder and heavy rain descended onto the Church, that Papa Emeritus II, also known as Secondo, found you hidden in an abandoned classroom, fury evident in his harsh visage.

Angry was an understatement for what he felt, patience at an all-time low. Too many times had he now been told of your decreasing grades, your increasing absences in the Cardinal’s classes, and of your shirked daily duties around the Ministry.

He had originally believed that his elder brother had taken care of righting such misbehavior, seeing as the two of you had seemingly grown close over the past weeks, but Secondo found that he had not. Rage had coursed through him, being told once more of your increasingly childish behavior, heavy steps announcing his irate state to anyone within earshot.

Whatever he had expected to see upon finding you had not been what he happened upon, mismatched eyes gazing on the scene before him.

There, wrapped in what he now recognized to be one of Primo’s old scarves, was you, bloodied hands hurriedly wiping at whatever you were trying to hide from his gaze.

“Do not believe you can hide from me-“ He angrily hissed out, surging forward to roughly grasp at your wrist, intend on finding out what exactly you were hiding-

There, in your now opened palm, lay a bunch of bloodied yellow petals, wet, as if freshly- Slowly had he turned his bewildered gaze to your lips, his rapid-fire suspicion confirmed as he took in your pale bloodstained lips, fearful eyes staring back at him.

Had this been the reason of your sudden friendship with Primo? Had you turned to his brother in your time of need, knowing full well of Primo’s adoration of all things related to flowers and gardening?

Surprisingly, it was with Secondo where no words of acknowledgement or condolences were exchanged, only silence as he took in your form once more, as if seeing you for the first time all over again. The second Emeritus son could see how pale your skin gleamed, your small hands shaking in his now relaxed hold.

You would have figured that you’d be too tired for tears at this point in time, but you were wrong, quiet sobs wracking your tired body as the man above you remained silent.

Your sobs struck a cord within Secondo as dissimilar eyes took in the way tears ran down your bloodied face. Guilt tore at his insides, guilt of being the reason behind the fear swirling in your eyes, most likely staring back at him in wait for the rage he had entered the classroom with. Usually, he’d have found satisfaction in the acts of scaring Siblings and Ghouls… but there had been none in this moment.

“Who?” Had been the only word the second eldest Emeritus son uttered as he helped you to your feet, a gentle but firm hand resting upon the small of your back as it veered you instead towards the only place he knew would perhaps have answers.

Agitatedly did you resist as you quickly realized where Secondo was leading you, resulting in a harsh bout of coughs erupting from your already sore throat as you twisted out of the Papa’s hold.

It was almost sobering, almost, to gaze up towards his visage, watching as barely concealed realization painted his usually scowling features. You couldn’t help yourself, slightly fearful at the thought of invoking Papa Secondo’s rage once more, wondering what he would do. Never had you heard of him being cruel, but the fear remained, clawing its way into your guilty heart.

“I a-apologize Papa, I cannot-“ You tried between bloodied coughs, regret freely coursing through your veins as you caught sight of the now bloodied scarf Primo had gifted you.

“Capisco. Come, let us retire to my chambers while we await Primo’s return.” Secondo whispered with a gentleness you had not known him to have as he veered you to…

“Papa, this way is the way towards-“

“The kitchens? Sì. Do not worry, bella, I have not yet grown senile like mio padre.” The Papa beside you chuckled, a hint of playfulness present within his expressive eyes.

There, Secondo prepared you a hot glass of honeyed milk, lips pursed in thought.

“How long?” He asked, demeanor soft, hands occupied but eyes searching, quizzically gazing at your throat as if to see if flower stems would poke out.

“That I have loved him?” You replied, feeling the slight tingle that came with your illness whenever your mind drifted to the Cardinal. Oh, how you craved for his touch right now, insides aching to feel his gloved hands placed upon your body, lips against your-

Fingers snapped loudly beside your ear, pulling you out of your treacherous daydreams and back to the cruel world you inhabited.

“No. How long will you allow this disease to wreak havoc upon your body before considering the surgery?” He repeated, gentle eyes gazing back at you as he turned away from the stove, skeletal paint illuminated in the low lights. His visage appeared younger like this, gone was the anger that had resided there, now replaced with tenderness you had never associated with the man before you.

You felt guilty of being so surprised at the man’s behavior, inwardly berating yourself. Of course he was a human with human emotions, capable of softness and kindness, capable of being gentle… Never had you been allowed to see this side of him- You cut your thought off, wondering instead if ANYONE had ever been allowed to see this side of him except for his brothers.

You knew he had a point though, Primo himself had told you many times. Exactly how many times had Primo held your hand as you tried to drift off to sleep, unaware that you could hear him questioning himself outloud?

‘How long will your fragile body last, Bambino, until you are no longer able to breath?’

“As long as I am able-“

“Y/N!-”

There, now standing in the kitchen’s opened doorway, stood the man that you had so desperately fallen in love with, frantic eyes searching before landing on your own. It felt heavenly to be able to breath all of a sudden, throat unclouded of the stems growing within you as his eyes roamed your visage before flittering to your left, the imposing stature of Papa Emeritus II beside you.

“In a hurry, Cardinale?” He quipped, tone verging on mocking, unyielding in his position beside you, remaining just as close as he had been.

“N-No Papa, I eh… I was looking for Sorella Y/N..” Copia stuttered, visibly too intimidated by Secondo to continue speaking.

Softly, you turned fully towards the man who unknowingly held your heart, smile gentle as you spoke.

“What may I help you with, Cardinal Copia?”

Your words gained his attention once more, rewarding you with a shy tilt of his lips as he gazed at you in silence, cheeks coloring as he finally spoke.

“O-Oh- Sì, Sorella Esther has arranged a little eh… private party, in her and Sorella Anna’s chambers, I was curious if you would like to-“

You would have laughed had you not been so heartbroken at his words, ears ringing loudly as you continued to stare at the man but no longer hearing him or his nervously cute laughter. Briefly your gaze languidly flickering down, staring at the beautiful black paint on his lip, beautiful black paint that would surely be on Sister Esther’s inner thighs come morning. Beautiful black paint that would be smeared onto Sister Anna’s breasts as she fucked the man you loved, the man you were dying for-

Copia surged forward, hands outstretched as if to cup your face or hands or-

“I believe one asks for permission before touching someone, no?” Came Secondo’s booming tone, once more pulling you out of the torrent of nightmares that would most likely haunt you, a strong hand resting on your hip as it pulled you away with a haste you were ill prepared for but thankful for nonetheless, pulling you away from the confused Cardinal Copia. There Copia remained, hands outstretched, lips parted, frozen where he stood.

“Thank you for the offer, Cardinal, but I must decline. Perhaps another time.” Monotone was your voice, choosing to turn instead towards Papa, your eyes unseeing as you spoke.

“Is your milk done, Papa Secondo? I fear we have strayed for far too long, Papa Primo will be quite angry with us for making him wait.”

You knew it was a lie, Secondo knew it was a lie, but the Cardinal you had fallen in love with did not.

“Yes, you are right, dolcezza. Goodnight Cardinale di Topo, enjoy your little party.” Came Secondo’s sneered words, a wide palm pressed softly to your lower spine, guiding you away from the man you ached for.

You did not turn, missing entirely the way Cardinal Copia cringed, sorrow evident for all to see as he watched you walk away.

——————

“You are safe here, dolcezza. Let it out.” Secondo spoke the moment you entered his chambers, running hurriedly to his bathroom. There, out of sight, the second Emeritus son listened as you coughed harshly before the sound of vomiting graced his ears, your body emptying itself into what he hoped was his toilet.

He had heard tales of how tragically beautiful Hanahaki sickness was, flowers blooming from the corpses of men and women affected by it but none of what he currently saw was beautiful.

Nothing was beautiful in the way he aided you by holding your hair out of your face, allowing you to freely be sick without fear of dirtying yourself further.

Nothing was beautiful in the way your body shook, hands shaking as you gripped the toilet seat above you, trying to stop yourself from sobbing.

Nothing was beautiful in the way you let yourself sink further into despair for a man, who, visibly did not see you for anything more than a body to use, if Secondo went off of the Cardinal’s earlier words.

No, Secondo concluded, nothing was beautiful about the Hanahaki disease, inwardly wreaking havoc on your body and heart. More seconds passed by before he gently helped you stand, a hot hand secured at your lower back as you held onto the countertop of his sink.

“Are you able to remain standing by yourself, bella?” He softly spoke, waiting in silence until you shook your head before speaking once more.

“Va tutto bene. Now, follow your Papa, come.”

Numb were you as you did as told, following the man as he sidestepped to turn on his shower. The sound of water running immediately had a calming effect over you, eyes closing to relish in the sound.

“Was the reason why you were hiding in that classroom today because of il Cardinale?” He suddenly asked, voice appearing rough as if it were he who had just been sick. Why was he reminding a dying woman of the man she was dying for?

You reminded him of himself, a younger Secondo who had been hopeful, eager even, secretly hoping to find love before abandoning hope, turning bitter with old age.

But you? Oh, you were in love, young and in love and so very afraid, dying slowly and painfully for the very love you felt.

Briefly, the look of fear you’d held within your eyes while looking up at him flashed before his mind’s eye, guilt licking at his consciousness.

“Mi dispiace, for my earlier irate behavior. It was not-“

A gentle hand halted all remaining words, patting the skull-faced man’s arm in a seeming apology.

“Papa, please do not apologize to me, I am but a Sibling of Sin. You do not owe me anything, certainly not when it was because of my own fault that you were angered so.”

For a brief moment, only the sound of running water could be heard within the small bathroom.

“What kind of Papa would I be, if I were not able to admit my wrongs?” The second son of the Emeritus bloodline spoke, genuinely sincere in his-

“You’d be Papa Nihil.”

You were unprepared for the towel thrown at your face within such close range, an unappealing sound of surprise exiting you as Secondo laughed, the gravelly sound surprising you.

“Very funny, Sorella. Now that you feel well enough to insult me, join me in the living room after showering...”

“Yes Papa-“

“Puzzi di gatto bagnato.” Secondo finished with a smirk, quickly removing himself with a speed you would not have expected from the man before you could retaliate.

——————

Ironically, Primo was the one to arrive late back to his chambers, surprised to see that a small note had been pushed under his door during his absence. He knew this writing, worry pumping through his veins as he rushed to his brother’s chambers, hand pushing the door open-

“Ah, Papa Primo! Hurry, you have to see what Papa Secondo did to our island while I was washing your scarf!” You angrily huffed, one hand poised towards the TV, your dilapidated Animal Crossing island staring back at the three of you. Primo couldn’t help himself, laughing as you softly scowled the guiltless Papa seated beside you.

Tags: @moonlit-masquerade

#jossambird fic #next! terzo!! #rooted in your love fic #tw hanahaki disease #tw hanahaki #hanahaki disease #hanahaki #Secondo would absolutely ruin all of you island #cardinal copia x reader #copia x reader #cardinal copia #papa emeritus ii #papa secondo #papa terzo #papa primo #papa emeritus i #papa emeritus iv x reader #papa emeritus iv #papa emeritus iii #the band ghost fanfiction #the band ghost #ghost band #ghost bc

[jossambird]

Rooted in your love - P5: Melodies of their hearts

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

Word count: 3.5k

Warnings: Hanahaki Disease and all that comes with that (choking, being sick, acceptance of death, etc), Eventual Smut, Eventual 18+ acts, Angst, Unrequited Love... or is it. Older men accidentally falling in love.

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

Chapter Summary: Primo reflects on his growing feelings towards you after saving you from eternal slumber. Secondo finds himself unwillingly having to deal with Terzo’s baseless claims and fear of your upcoming fate. You dream of a hidden mausoleum, which calls for you.

AO3 Link - Part 1 🌿 - Part 2 🌿 - Part 3 🌿 - Part 4 🌿 - Part 6 🌿

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Copia couldn’t remember how exactly he had found himself walking towards Papa Emeritus I’s chambers at 2am in the morning.

While normally hauled up in his own chambers working on translations and scripts, the Cardinal had instead found himself thinking of you and solely of you, rendering him unable to continue any kind of work he had set upon himself. He doubted he was alone in such a situation, if he were to go off of the hushed words being whispered between Siblings (albeit for different reasons entirely).

The Abbey was practically aflame with rumors and gossip flying left and right about what had happened to you, and most of all, about what Papa Emeritus III had said.

‘Are you my fratello’s Prime Mover?’

Ever since the words had graced the world out from between Terzo’s lips, the six simple words seemed to haunt him, as did the clear worry on Papa Secondo’s face as you’d fainted into his ready embrace. Never had Copia seen such raw emotion plastered so openly upon the second Emeritus son’s face, his usual displeased scowl absent.

But surely Terzo’s words were baseless, unfounded. Yes, of course they were, Copia told himself as he paced the hallways, insides coiling anxiously within him. Terzo of all people would have known, had you been chosen to become the cold and serious Papa Emeritus II’s Prime Mover… wouldn’t he?

The very idea of being chosen to be a Papa’s Prime Mover… Siblings dreamed of obtaining such a position, throwing themselves at each respective Papa’s feet in hopes of attracting their attention and adoration. None had ever even been graced with such promises of becoming a Prime Mover..

That is, until earlier today, as the bond you shared with Secondo became apparent to all present, furthering the one of the assumptions the Cardinal had made of your relationship with the two eldest Emeritus sons.

The memory of watching Secondo’s silent form seat itself beside you for Breakfast felt burnt behind Copia’s retinas, remembering how attentive the Papa had seemed to be as he listened to you speak. Many times had he crossed paths with Papa Emeritus II, none of which had been entirely pleasant encounters, yet here the same man had sat alongside you, almost appearing to be a complete opposite of what many saw him to be.

Was he cursed? Cursed to forever reach out for you, yet always finding himself one step behind the Emeritus men that the Olde One had blessed?

It had been Papa Primo, however, that had been the first to strike his hammer into Copia’s metaphorical coffin, severing the academic ties he’d always been ever so grateful of sharing with you. Copia still cringed as he remembered his mismatched eyes sweeping across the classroom the next day after hearing that you would no longer attend his classes, anguish settling inside his bones at the reminder that you would no longer illuminate his days with your dazzling smile.

And no matter how painstakingly close he’d come to touching your beautiful face with his ungloved hands that night in the kitchen, it was the very intimacy of Papa Secondo’s touch that plagued Copia’s thoughts as he paced the Abbey’s halls.

How could a man such as himself ever be enough to a being of unearthly beauty such as you? How could he ever be enough compared to the powerful men of the Church you inhabited?

Had you ever thought of him as he had thought of you? Had you spent your nights in bed such as he had, hands working your body over and over until you fell over the precipice that was bliss, his name at the tip of your tongue? Or had you ever laid your eyes upon him, wondering what it would feel like to awaken beside him, fingers carding through his hair?

For Copia, it had always only ever been you; it had always been you who had graced his days, you who lit up any room you entered, you who captivated his attention and thoughts.

Little had he known that that morning, all three dissimilar-eyed gazes present had been glued to your radiant expression, watching as you softly spoke to the Papa at your side, enchanting them in ways they couldn’t articulate-

The sudden apparition of a body within his line of sight pulled the Cardinal from his thoughts, jumping at the presence before him. The Special Ghoul, also known as Phil, stood before him, a singular clawed hand lifted in a mock wave.

“What may I do for you, Cardinal Copia?” Came the Ghoul’s low voice behind his mask, emerald green eyes staring back at the man before him.

Any semblance of confidence Copia had felt inside him suddenly evaporated at the sight of Papa Emeritus I’s closed chamber doors.

“O-Oh, I was eh.. sì, trouble sleeping…”

With that, Cardinal Copia returned to his chambers for the night, tossing and turning as dreams of your gravestone tormented him.

——————————————————

Primo sighed, hands stained with dried blood- your dried blood, blood that had spilt onto his fingers as he had tried to help you, fingers prying into your mouth to remove the flower that had lodged itself in your throat, just like a mortician would a corpse. How grim of a thought, the first Emeritus son told himself, hands still remaining at his side as he gazed down at your now sleeping form.

He knew not if your disease was progressing quickly or slowly; the last records of a known Hanahaki Disease death within their Satanic church had been decades ago, and the known cases outside of the Church were too far and few in between. The thought of you being turned into a lab-rat had haunted him since he’d found you all those weeks ago, deciding that very night that he would tend to you until the very end.. Your end, be it by surgically removing said flowers, or be it by your passing.

How had a normal woman such as you contracted such a thing?

Primo scoffed, instantly resenting his own thoughts. No, you weren’t a ‘normal’ woman, you were anything but, infact; the grace and kindness you exuded were of levels unimaginable, your care unending. Even now, as you fought for your life, you sought only to spare them the pain that would surely haunt them come the day your last breath would leave you. Even now, as you lay dying, you held no animosity towards the halfwitted Cardinal you so desperately loved.

He was certainly not blind to the changes your presence had brought to their lives, changing them in ways they had not imagined or anticipated.

Just like a flower budding from between the concrete slabs of Life, you had pierced through the veil of their darkened hearts.

Primo thought back to the sight he had beheld some nights ago, Secondo’s half naked form weeping, remembering the sight of his younger brother clutching at the scarf you had accidentally left behind. When he’d helped you all those weeks ago, Secondo clearly hadn’t anticipated the emotions you would seemingly bring forth like an expert harpist who plucked at their instrument’s strings; it seemed as if your very fingers had plucked at the strings of his heart, expertly playing a tune the middle Emeritus son had forgotten he knew.

And he? The elder Papa almost scoffed once more, were it not for the feeling of his heart erratically beating against his ribs.

Lust had always been a sin he knew how to deal with. In positions of power such as theirs, true love like the love you held for the oblivious Cardinal came rarely. Instead, all they found from their partners was .. lust and practically nothing more. Too many times had it been lust for their name, lust for their power, lust for the being their lovers believed them all to be. Hidden behind lustful words had always been secret agendas and secret wants, always hoping to gain their favors, always needing something. He shuddered at the thought, glad he had done away with such… empty meetings of the flesh.

But love?

He had thought himself too old for love and childish little crushes that teenagers harbored… and yet, here he stood, gazing down at you, heart selfishly yearning that perhaps it had been him you had fallen in love with, him that you had flowered internally for.

That very thought brought forth another thought he had tried countless times to ride himself of: Had he not stumbled upon you that very first night, choking on bloodied petals, would he ever have known of all this? Of your pain? Of your heartache? Of the way you cried in your sleep, sometimes waking in a panic, unable to calm until either he (or most recently Secondo) helped you relax, playing with you at the game you had ‘persuaded’ them into purchasing? Or would you have been alone, alone and afraid, fearing that each morning you awoke, that it would be your last?

You shifted on his bed, pulling Primo from his somber thoughts as worry flared within the dissimilar-eyed man for a moment as he gazed down at you, preparing himself to aid you in any way needed. Though, nothing came as you instead rolled onto your side, face burrowing deeper into his opulent red pillow, black sheets framing you beautifully. Even now, as Primo fretted for your health, you were a vision to behold, lips parted as you breathed in slowly, a sign he had successfully aided you as best as he could.

The first Emeritus son allowed him to smile, hand moving to grab his armchair before pulling it to your bedside, seating himself slowly with a groan, bones tiredly aching. You stirred once more, hands grabbing at the extra pillow he usually kept for himself when you slept within his chambers. You pulled it to your form, sighing deeply as you held it close, remaining peacefully asleep.

No, perhaps you didn’t love him in the same way you loved the blind Cardinal, but you did love him all the same, Primo thought, eyes shutting slowly as to finally nap.

——————————————————

Afternoon turned into Evening, Evening into Night, with no sightings or appearances whatsoever from the eldest Emeritus son.

Rumors and ill-mannered words had spread like wildfire within the Abbey’s walls, preventing Papa Emeritus II from seeking out his elder brother for any news of your recovery.

No, instead, Secondo found himself being forced to do the very thing he hated more than sitting through his padre’s rambling speeches about Sister Imperator: meetings with the other Higher Clergy members.

It was, of course, sadly to be expected; the word that Papa Emeritus II had perhaps finally found his Prime Mover had spread faster than a forest fire on a dry July day, members from neighboring Church factions racing to congratulate him on the marvelous news (perhaps in hope of gaining the AntiPope’s favor, should they need it in the future).

Oh what a wall they had all hit upon arriving, many accidentally bearing witness to a sight none had anticipated: there, shaking with what could only be assumed to be silent rage, had been Secondo, fists tightly closed as if ready to strike again at the man that barely stood a few feet away from him. Ghouls of both Papas had successfully separated Secondo’s enraged form from the visibly stunned Terzo, but the damage had already been wrought, on both sides.

Now, as Night began to turn into Morning once more, silence following him like a plague, Secondo frustratedly paced within his chambers, mind unable to free itself from the image of your panicked eyes boring into his very being, unable to free itself of your shaking fingers grasping at his chasuble, fear mounting-

The skull-faced man growled, hand colliding angrily onto his marbled kitchen counter. Tired was he of the mental hoops his mind seemed eager to run him through tonight of all nights, wondering distantly if perhaps this was what insanity felt like. Try as he might to calm down and sleep, he found he could not. He felt as though he had failed you in some way, failed to protect you, failed to save you.

Would you still be okay right now, had he not arrived at your door that very morning, asking you to accompany him to Unholy Breakfast under the guise of ‘seeing what pigs slop they served’?

He knew of the food they served to simple Siblings and Ghouls; it, of course, was not slop, but after hearing from Primo that you had steadily began eating less and less, most likely due to the increasing number of flowers beginning to bloom within you, Secondo had desperately found himself lying through his teeth, knowing it would incite inside you a burning need to prove him wrong and to shower praise onto the chef Sister in charge of Breakfast.

‘Oh- Papa Secondo!’ You had whispered out, surprised at his harsh words as your hand rushed forward to tap him softly like you usually did when scolding him. ‘Allow me a moment to get dressed! I promise you, you will adore Sister Mara’s Eggs Benedict! And if afterwards you decide that you don’t, Ill- Well, I don’t know what I'll do but that can be arranged after!’

Had the Olde One punished him for lying to a dying woman? Was this to be his punishment, forever remembering the way your dazzling eyes lit up as you’d tasted your breakfast?

This morning had been the first time Siblings and Ghouls alike had seen the two of you together-

He felt like choking at the sudden realization of what you would hear once you awoke.

Would the rumors of him using you hurt you as much as they hurt him? Of using your body for his own pleasure, only seeming as worried as he had been for your health due to his want to keep his ‘Plaything’ alive? Both you and he knew that was far from the case; how would you react to hearing that the people you rubbed shoulders with daily thought you to simply be a notch in his proverbial belt, like so many had been before you?

You had always seemed unbothered of his sexual reputation, so why did the rumors bother him? Why did they claw at his very heart, feeling the need to shield you from the callous words the people around you would most likely whisper, perhaps thinking to give you advice on how to best please him?

The second Emeritus son suddenly found himself loathing the sexual reputation he had obtained himself. It nearly felt like a mask, a mask that had remained glued upon his skin for so long that he no longer knew how to remove it. The day he had helped you, he remembered having forgotten of the mask that practically plagued him all his life, almost as if your very presence had removed it, revealing to yourself the man underneath so few had ever fully seen, that so few had ever wanted to see.

What had it been that had quelled his rage that day? Had it been your wide beautiful (and fearful) eyes? Had it been the sudden realization that you were the most stunning thing he had ever seen, despite the fact that he had never seen you grace the ministry’s halls before? Or had it been the second realization that had hit him, that he had only just found you, yet you were already fading away?

All at once, Secondo felt sick, heart racing as synapses fired to life within his mind.

With you, he had never been Papa Emeritus II, the Papa that loved alcohol and drugs alike, the Papa that spent his days and nights fucking or being sucked off by Siblings and people he barely knew, the Papa that happily exalted harsh punishments like a human breathed.

No, with you, he had simply been Secondo, a man. Secondo, the one that had wrecked half your little Animal Crossing Island you had spent days working on. Secondo, the friend…

Once his clock rung 7am, Secondo decided he had had enough, exiting his chambers to make the usually short walk to his brother’s chambers.

His heart yearned to hear your beautiful saccharine laughter instead of all of this- of any of this, for that matter.

——————————————————

Before you… was a mausoleum. Decrepit, broken down, hollow. Moss had grown between the cracks of what was once beautifully carved out art fit for kings, but now, all that was left was moss and mold and cracked marble. Why did such a building exist on the Church’s grounds? Why had you never seen it? Why did it call to you, as if pulling your soul forward out of its confides within your body, calling for you to rest?

You could practically feel the cold of the concrete seep into your naked feet as you hesitantly stepped forward, the hairs on your arm raising in warning, perhaps even rising from the fear coiling in your gut.

Something laid inside.. it called to you, beckoned you, roared your name like an injured animal yowled for it’s mother-

——————————————————

Primo knew he shouldn’t have been as surprised as he felt to be startled awake at the sound of Secondo’s uncharacteristically soft knocks, but he was, groaning as he attempted to sit up from the uncomfortable position he had seemingly moved into during his sleep on his armchair. You remained silent as ever, eyes shut as your softly breathed in and out, reassuring the man beside you that you were still safe.

Quick Italian words could be heard outside of his door as Primo moved towards it, Secondo’s tone appearing to verge onto apparent worry.

Swiftly did his brother’s words cease as the eldest Emeritus son opened his chamber doors, coming face to face with a disheveled looking Secondo. His eyes nearly bloodshot red, face bare except for the visible scuffs of paint he had failed to completely wash off. Whatever words Primo had thought to say died upon his tongue, quickly pulling his brother inside.

“Fratello, are you al-“ The eldest of the two tried to speak first, mouth shutting closed as the man before him exuded anxiety and nerves, just as he had done while half naked in his chambers. Everything clicked into place within Primo’s mind, features softening as Secondo visibly attempted to reel himself in from crumbling before his brother’s eyes, for a second time.

“How is she? Is she alive?” Secondo tried, appearing unable to gaze into Primo’s opened bedroom door, as if fearing what he would see inside.

“Yes, she is safe for now, although she is still asleep. You may go in and see her, if you’d like.” Primo softly answered, lips tilting up as he watched the usually bitter man he knew to be his brother swiftly turn on his heel, eagerly walking towards your bedside.

Once there, Secondo simply stared at your sleeping form, eyebrows knitting together. Silence once more enveloped the room as both men observed you, one’s gaze more critical than the other.

“I.. apologize for not coming earlier-“

“You have nothing to apologize for, Secondo. You were busy. She knows.” Primo cut off the man before him, knowing that none of what Secondo had been forced to do had been his fault, nor in his power to stop. Papa or not, such things required immediate discussion, no matter how unfounded or not they were… including the words Terzo had casually thrown into the air.

“Has news of her condition-“

“No.” Came Secondo’s short curt reply, fingers curling tightly. It was only then did Primo look down, noticing the blood upon his brother’s bruised knuckles.

“They were too preoccupied organizing a fucking Prime Mover ritual to worry of the woman herself.”

The words Secondo spat out with anger equally pained Primo, knowing how callous and cruel the High Ranking members of clergy could be, all in the name of spreading the Dark Lord’s name and for the Emeritus bloodline to continue. It almost threatened to swallow him whole, imagining the turmoil you’d have been faced with had you been obligated to be eternally tied to another man then the one you loved.

“You know… she sleeps like you.” Primo spoke into the silence that had built, sharp eyes watching as Secondo bristled, shoulders tensing but never retracting his eyes from your sleeping form.

“And how exactly is it that I sleep?” Secondo could have yelled the words and they would have sounded as quiet as he’d spoken them, throat constricting around each syllable he spoke.

“Lonely.”

Primo expected no reply, acting blind to the sight of Secondo sitting down at your bedside, shoulders shaking quietly in defeat.

“Dol- Y/N.. Please, come back to us.”

If someone had asked him a year ago to describe what the word Silence meant to him, he would have said Peaceful. Perfect. Relax.

Now, as he sat beside your slumbering form, the only words that rang through Secondo’s mind were Eerie. Cold. Loud. Yes, that was exactly what it felt like; the quietness that surrounded you was loud, loud and discomforting, as if the quietness itself knew that your voice beautifully filled its space.

And just like an expert harpist that struck at their instruments' cords, unknowing of the hearts they had moved with their melodic tune, you remained asleep, unknowing of the hearts bleeding at your very side.

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#jossambird fic #tw hanahaki disease #hanahaki disease #hanahaki #tw hanahaki #rooted in your love fic #copia x reader #papa emeritus iv x reader #cardinal copia x reader #papa emeritus ii x reader #secondo x reader #papa emeritus i #papa emeritus iii #papa emeritus ii #papa terzo #papa secondo #papa primo #primo x reader #papa emeritus i x reader #the band ghost fanfiction #the band ghost