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fluffysourpatch · 9 months

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His little cherub

Copia x Child Daugther!Oc

// Words 3043 //

Warnings: beginning angst but then pure fluff! Copia a loving father to his little daugther!.

Copia looked up from the mountain of paperwork on his desk, picking up his cup of coffee and taking a sip before speaking. "Come in." He calls out to the person behind the door, putting down his pen and leaning back in his chair, fixing his posture and combing his fingers through his hair to appear more presentable.

inside came Gigi his only daughter 5 years old who he adopted. “Daddy? Can we play?” she asked him but Copia has a lot of duties to do

Copia sighed, but smiled softly. “Maybe tomorrow, kiddo.” He answered, ruffling her hair. “Go play with your toys for now, okay?” Copia looked over his papers again, before leaning back in his chair. It seemed his little girl always knew exactly when he was busy.

“But I wanna play with you!” she stomped her feet

Copia looked up from his paper, looking toward Gigi. “My child, I wish for nothing more than to give you all of my attention, but I still have work to do!” He sighed in exasperation. “Please, do me a kindness and play with your dolls, or your crayons, or anything else; I promise I will play with you when I have time…” Copia said, his frustration melting as he saw Gigi’s frown. “Please, Gigi, be a good child.”

“But to play with my dolls is boring! They won't response! she exclaimed and stomped her feet again I wanna play with you!” her frown turns into anger.

Copia let out an aggravated sigh. “Mia cara, Gigi… I know you wish to play with me, but I am too busy… if this were any other day then I could play with you, but I need to finish this pile of paperwork so I might get to bed at a reasonable hour. Please, I am only asking that you play with your toys for now.” Copia said, trying his best to appear stern and firm.

Gigi walks up to him and took some pen from the desk as she threw it at him angrily “NO I WANNA PLAY!” she yells but the pen didn´t hit Copia.

Copia sighed quietly, rubbing his temples. This was getting annoying. “Il mio bambino, please do not make this difficult. I just need you to play with your toys for a moment. I need to do my work… please, just wait for me. I promise I’ll play a little later…” Copia said, his tone more tired than annoyed this time.

“But I wanna play with you!!” she yells again and starts to hit the desk. Copia’s patience was beginning to wear thin. This had gone on for long enough. Gigi was going to learn how hard work was, and that he just couldn’t always get his way whenever he wished. “Bambino, this behavior is unacceptable. Play with your toys, and learn to be patient because I cannot…” he paused for a moment, realizing he didn’t want to yell at this sweet little girl, but she certainly wouldn’t listen if he didn’t. “I cannot play with you right now.” Copia said sternly.

and then she pushed Copia to his limit as she went up to him and kicked his leg angrily.

“Gigi, stop this instant!” Copia shouted, his voice loud for the first time today. “I have to finish this paperwork, and I cannot do that if you continually distract me and beg me for playtime. Do I make myself clear? Please, mia cara, stop this behavior. I cannot play with you right now, and you must learn to respect that, to be patient and accepting of the situation. What is it that I must do…” Copia trailed off, shaking his head angrily and trying to regain his composure. Gigi jumped as his voice raised against her, never in her life did he scream at her or lost his patience with her. Her eyes widened and took a step back. Copia took a deep breath, realizing that he was scaring his little girl. He sighed, rubbing the side of his face and smiling softly. “Tesoro, I am so very sorry for yelling, I am just… tired, and I need to get done this paperwork. You must play with your toys until I have enough time to play with you, as I promised. Will you promise me this?” Copia said, kneeling down next to Gigi. but she didn´t listened to Copia, she turned around to run out of the office without a word. Copia sighed, looking toward the door. “Gigi, come back here, please. Mi dispiace Tesoro…” Copia sighed again, looking out the window before looking at the papers in front of him once more. “Oh dear…” he muttered to himself silently.

As Gigi was running away from the office, she run the hallway and reached a door she knocked fast without stopping.

Sodo let out a sigh as he heard the door knock. He rose from his desk and opened the door, seeing Gigi standing there. “Hello, little one.” He said softly. “Is everything alright?” Sodo looked puzzled.

she shook her head as tears are spilling from her eyes “daddy screamed at me!” she sobs trying to wipe her tears with her tiny hands.

Sodo put his hand on Gigi's shoulder, taking a moment to crouch down and speak to her at her level. "Sweetie, did you know that your daddy was working? He is very busy right now and doesn't have time to play with you right now, however, he still loves you very much. Maybe he yelled at you because he's just stressed out right now, and he's still adjusting to his job." Sodo says, trying to comfort the young girl.

“But I wanted to play with him... “she cries “he didn’t play with me a long time ago... I miss papa” she sobs

Sodo sighs, standing up taking Gigi in his arms. “Darling, you can’t play with Papa right this moment… but I can. And it’ll be like having a big brother for a while. I’ll play with you until it’s time for you and your papa to go to bed, okay sweetie? Is that okay with you?” Sodo asked her, smiling gently.

She nods at him with tears in her face as she smiles at him and giggles plus cries the same time. “We can play together?” She asked him again wanting to know if he really wants to play with her.

“Of course, we can, sweetheart! Let’s play with the dolls over here, alright?” Sodo said, walking toward a toybox on the other side of the room because sometimes Gigi always left her dolls at Sodo’s room so he made a box to put them inside. “I wonder which doll you’re going to pick…” he muttered to himself as he began opening the box and picking out the toy. He smiled softly before giving Gigi a hug and turning around, waiting for her to grab a doll, any doll.

Sodo smiled as he watched Gigi take a doll from the box. “Which doll did you pick?” Sodo asked, crouching down next to the youngster as she shows him which doll she picked, as he is speaking at her own level again. “Let’s start playing!” he said, his tone cheerful.

she giggles and starts to play with Sodo

Sodo picked up the other doll as well, speaking with a sweet, high-pitched voice as he started playing with Gigi. He would mimic her and her doll’s voices to add to the game; he always enjoyed entertaining children, and he was especially close to Gigi. He always wanted her to have the best childhood, even if it meant helping out to relieve her father from a bit of his stress.

after some playing Gigi fall asleep on Sodo’s bed with the doll in her hand

Sodo let out a soft chuckle at the sight of Gigi sleeping. She was absolutely adorable when she slept. Sodo made sure to tuck Gigi in for the evening, smiling softly as he adjusted the blanket. "Sleep well, my little lamb.", Sodo whispered to the young girl.

Copia stepped into the room, still in his robes, and saw Gigi sleeping peacefully in Sodo's arms. He cleared his throat. "Hello, Sodo." Copia said calmly, approaching both Gigi and his Ghoul "Oh, lord..." Copia muttered, watching both Gigi and Sodo interacting in the room. "Is she...? Did something happen?" He asked the question of Sodo, his expression a mix of bewilderment, concern, and anxiety.

Sodo looked up at Copia, smiling softly as he held Gigi protectively. "No, it's quite alright, Copia. She came crying to me, so I took her into my room for a little while. She had said you yelled at her." Sodo answered, his tone gentle and warm. He looked over at Gigi calmly.

Copia nodded silently, feeling even more concern wash through him as he watched Sodo gently rocking Gigi in his arms. With a heavy sigh, he stepped forward and looked down at his daughter, touching a strand of her hair that was falling on her face. "mio piccolo amore," Copia said softly, touching Gigi's cheek. He looked up at Sodo. "Mi dispiace tanto, Sodo." Copia said, his tone soft and worried.

Copia continued to stare at Gigi, his expression one of sadness, guilt, and remorse. He turned to Sodo, who gently patted Gigi's head as she slept. "Grazie Sodo. Please, take good care of her, won't you?", Copia said softly. He then turned to Gigi carefully, gently kissing her forehead. "I am sorry for yelling at you, Gigi. I am so sorry... ti amo mio piccolo angelo"

the next morning, Gigi woke up to Sodo’s bed alone. Gigi sat up slowly in Sodo's bed, feeling slightly confused. She knew she remembered playing with Sodo, but he wasn't in the room anymore. She looked around, feeling slightly alone and slightly scared. Where was Sodo? Where was her papa?

She tried to remember exactly why she had been in Sodo's room in the first place. She knew he was playing with her, but her memory felt fuzzy. Did she remember what happened yesterday? Was her papa mad at her? She couldn't remember.

she stood up and walked with her little legs out of the room. She went to the dining room where the sisters of sin were serving the food for the ghouls. There she saw Copia “daddy!” she came running to him

Copia was eating a light breakfast with one of the Ghouls. He smiled gently as he saw Gigi run toward him. He got up from his chair and picked her up, giving her a big hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Good morning, la mia piccola colomba.” Copia said, his tone full of the affection that was always there when it came to Gigi. “Did you have a good time with Sodo last night?” he asked her.

“Yes, we played together and had lots of fun!” she giggled and hugs him tight with her arms and legs around “I miss you daddy...” she whispers to him as she hides her face at his neck.

Copia felt warm inside as he felt Gigi hug him. He gently ran his fingers through her hair, smiling at her. “I am so glad you had the joy of spending time with your uncle last night, my little Tesoro, I am sorry I have not been able to spend a lot of time with you the past few months, I am simply so busy.” Copia said, his tone soft.

He then lifted Gigi up a bit, and placed a kiss on her forehead. “I promise, though, that once I finish some paperwork, we can play some more Si?”

“But when are you finished?” she asked sadly “I can’t wait anymore papa...”

Copia held Gigi close, smiling softly as he felt her hugging him tightly. "Colomba, I should be finished by lunch time Si? Will that be okay with you?" Copia said, his tone soft and gentle. "Do you think you can wait just a bit longer? Please." he said, looking into Gigi's eyes.

“C-can I stay with you then while you work?... I promise I will be quiet... “she booped her nose with his nose while looking at him

Copia’s expression softened as Gigi booped noses with him. The young girl was utterly adorable, and despite how busy he was, Copia couldn’t help but melt with each gesture of affection.

“Of course, Tesoro” he said softly, “and you don't need to promise; you’re always such a good little girl, it’s one of the things I am proud of most.” Copia said, his love and affection flowing through his sweet words.

Copia chuckled as he felt Gigi’s stomach growl. “Ah, it seems you must be quite hungry. Let us go see if the sisters are done cooking your food.” Copia said, carrying Gigi as he turned around to walk out of the room. As he walked away, he placed a kiss on Gigi’s forehead; a sweet gesture he had never done with any other child.

after they ate, they went to his office. Copia was doing his paperwork and Gigi was playing or drawing silently beside him, sometimes between drawing she reaches for his hand to hold it for some Minutes.

Copia sighed as he looked back over at his papers, focusing on his work again. Then he felt Gigi’s hand sneaking with his, he smiles softly and squeezes her hand.

As he looked down at the papers in front of him, feeling a bit of guilt wash over him. Gigi was only looking for his attention; she was only a little girl. She wanted to play, she wanted to be loved, she wanted him to be proud of her. “Hmm…” Copia spoke out loud, thinking. He set down his pen and put the papers in front of him to the side.

Gigi was drawing her and papa in a picture holding hands as they do right now. She looks up at him and then asked softly “can I sit on your lap daddy? O-or... Is it distracting you from work...?”

Copia smiled gently, his eyes warming at the scene of Gigi drawing him and her together. He reached down and picked Gigi up to sit her in his lap, kissing her gently. "Of course, you can." he said softly, "This is the best part of my day, having my beautiful little girl in my lap." Copia brushed back Gigi's hair, and spoke to her as he looked at what she was drawing. "And whatever you are drawing must be so beautiful. Can I see it when you are done?" She hums a quiet yes as she continues drawing and waggling with her tiny legs

Copia nodded gently, smiling as he felt her weight in his lap, and felt Gigi humming softly, probably in content. He looked down to check out what Gigi was doing, still watching her draw. “Hey, Gigi? I am proud of you.” he said softly, his voice warm and full of affection.

“You are?” she said as her eyes sparkle, “I am also proud of you daddy!” she giggles

“Why, yes. Of course, love. You are the most important thing in my life, my little cherub. And every tiny accomplishment you make, makes me the proudest papa in the world, do you hear me?” Copia said softly, his eyes sparkling as he spoke. He brushed her hair away from her face, his fingers gently brushing past her cheeks, “And what about this? Eh? You said you were proud of me, too. Why would you say that?” he asked, looking down at Gigi.

“Uhm... Because you work very hard... You work hard for me, for the people who loves you outside... Uhm what where they called... Fans”

"Ohh, yes, mio piccolo amore. That's correct! Fans. And yes, I do work for them. But I work hard for you, too. You are my most precious thing, and I do everything in my power to protect you, and make you happy. Ti amo, Gigi." Copia said softly, his smile as warm as always. He gently stroked her hair again, letting the warmth from his touch comfort the young girl.

After that Copia continues to work on his papers and Gigi on her drawing still sitting on his lap.

Copia sighed and picked up Gigi from his lap. "Tesoro It's time for you to go to bed," he said softly. Gigi looked at him for a moment, a tiny frown on her face. "...But papa... I wanna spend more time with you." she said, her tone sounding almost pleading. Copia looked at her a moment, smiling softly, "Come. Let me take you to bed." He said, gently, taking Gigi back to her room. As they arrived, he laid her down on her bed, putting the blanket over her and rests his hand on her forehead smiling.

Gigi glanced at him with her happy smile as she asked him “Can you stay with me? And read me a bedtime story? Please?” Copia smiled softly at Gigi's request, nodding slowly. "Si, Tesoro. I can stay with you tonight, and if you'd like, I can even read you a bedtime story." He said, kissing her cheek.

Copia read Gigi her favorite bedtime story as she hugged him tightly to her. It was a story of a king who loved his daughter deeply and took her hunting, to share in his favorite past time with her. Copia smiled as he read, looking down at Gigi as they cuddled closely to him. She was precious, more precious than anything in the world to him, and he was so happy she was his little angel.

Eventually, though, Gigi's eyes began to flutter with sleep. She looked up at Copia one last time, her face showing her love for him. And then, she fell asleep

Copia looked down at Gigi as her eyes closed. He gently set her down on her pillow, her small frame buried underneath the covers of the bed. Copia leaned down and kissed her forehead, his expression full of love and affection.

“buonanotte mio piccolo tesoro prezioso.” Copia whispered softly, turning off the light in the room before closing the door, leaving little Gigi to happily sleep.

______________________________________________________________

Hii! I always wanted to write a Copia with his daughter story! and well here I am! i hope you like it and i hope the Italian words are not wrong! whoops it would be embarrassed if they are not correct. sorryyy! :p

If you want a Part Two, leave a comment! :) <3

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esta-elavaris · 7 months

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Flufftober Day 3: "You love me?" "I always have." ~ Papa Emeritus IV/OC [2,733 words]

My Flufftober '23 masterpost can be found here 💜✨

Anyway, this one exemplifies "idiots in love", my first foray into writing Ghost!fic, I hope you enjoy.

As the abbey’s resident librarian, it was decidedly rare that Sister Keira had to deal with an emergency. Not the sort that had a ghoul dragging her from her bed in the wee small hours, anyway. The beautiful thing about books was that they tended to keep – so long as they weren’t stored in a decidedly idiotic manner, which she would never allow. Her ardent defence of the abbey’s books and the manner in which they were kept did not help the jokes of her being a waking stereotype, even if the higher ups had begun it by putting their resident Brit in charge of them in the first place. All of this meant that when she was dragged from her bed at two in the morning by a ghoul pounding at her door, she really had no idea what to make of it.

Nor when the ghoul offered a pointy grin and spoke. “Papa desires your presence in the library – urgently.”

When she’d gone to bed only a handful of hours ago, he’d been on tour still. What could have happened so soon after his returning that the library was his first port of call, and not the dining hall, or his bed?

By the time she got to the library, she was wearing yesterday’s crumpled clothes, plucked from her bedroom floor, and her hair looked like it had fallen victim to some artist with a flair for the abstract. But aesthetics weren’t priority in an emergency. Not that she’d ever let Terzo hear her admit that.

Making it to the library to find that nothing was on fire, nor flooded, was a boon – and when she saw Papa Emeritus IV slouched back in the her desk chair, she found herself even happier. By the looks of it, they’d finished up their last ritual and then high-tailed it back here immediately thereafter. His paint was smudged, and he wore his black stage trousers, along with the black poet shirt he often wore beneath the rest of the gear.

How long had this tour gone on for? A fair few months, she knew not how many, but she’d felt his absence keenly all the same. It was surprising, how often his business brought him here, but not unwelcome.

He’d appeared on the verge of falling asleep when she strode in, but straightened and then stood as she entered. Had the chair not been on wheels, he’d have knocked it over in the process. As it was, it rolled back and banged into the bookshelf behind him. Neither of them paid it much mind.

“Papa,” she greeted, breathless from the jog here. “Welcome back.”

Making a faltering sort of wordless noise in the back of his throat, he blinked as he took in her appearance.

“I woke you,” he said.

“They said it was an emergency.”

“I…er…you are usually up at this hour, I thought…”

Of course he would think that – because when he was here, she often was. Not because she was a night owl, as she usually professed when he asked, but because he was, and she was usually reluctant to call it a night if it meant giving up whatever time they could get together one on one.

“I decided to get an early night,” she lied sheepishly.

“Ah…I see…” he nodded slowly, not quite looking at her.

Things hadn’t always been this awkward between them. In fact, things had never been this awkward between them up until very recently. And she had no idea why. It wasn’t just the return from tour – because there was always bound to be a bit of unsurety as they recalled how to be around one another again – because this strange change spanned before he had left. In fact, she’d almost been relieved that he had, because she had no idea what she’d done wrong. No idea what had happened for teasing and jokes and smiles to turn into awkward silences, a refusal to meet her gaze, and one word answers to her attempts at conversation pretty much entirely overnight.

Perhaps her upset over the new way of things showed on her face, for met her gaze and then coughed and looked away quickly, slowly sitting back down again as he spoke.

“Well, the ghoul misspoke – it’s not an emergency, it can wait. I just thought that if you were awake, your expertise could-”

“I’m awake now,” she said with her own affected brightness, folding and then unfolding her arms. “What is it?”

“Sister Monica has had another vision.”

Ah.

“Let me guess – it hit her right as she was on her way to attend to her duties in the gardens in bad weather?”

Papa chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I think you must have a touch of foresight yourself, Sister."

He never used to call her that, either. While English was hardly something that he struggled with, he’d never quite got the knack of pronouncing her name properly – but that had never stopped him from using it. Eventually, Keira decided that she found it charming, and stopped attempting to slip the proper way of saying it into casual conversation. One could only refer to oneself in third person so many times before one seemed unhinged. Although that was considered a good thing around here, mostly.

“All the same, the time we don’t bother to look for matching information in the archives will, knowing my luck, be the time we miss something real,” Papa snorted. “So…here we are.”

“What are we looking for references to this time?” she smoothed her hands over her skirt, ready to go.

“Caves,” he sighed. “Pink caves.”

“Not the sort found in Terzo’s copy of the Karma Sutra, I’m guessing,” she said drily.

The one he kept here as an act of charity, so any who may need inspiration could access it easily. It would be easier to laugh at his goal had it not proven useful to a fair number of those who frequented the library.

That, thank the devil, broke whatever strange and inexplicable ice had grown over their interactions. Papa coughed, there was a second where her words fully registered, and then he laughed, smoothing a hand over his hair as he did. It had grown longer, she noted, while he was gone. She rather liked it.

“No, er…well, I don’t believe so. It would make for more entertaining research, though, eh?”

The joke was weak, but when she laughed at it silence fell again and she realised the brief moment of levity was over. Smoothing her hands over her skirt, she went into research mode. That provided some comfort, at least.

“Well, there are some in Australia. They call them the Cotton Candy Caves – the Munmorah Sea Caves, if we’re being less twee about it. But I don’t see how they’re relevant. None of the texts mention them.”

“I thought that the Maleficarum – the one from sixteen-sixty-six, the er…the fourth edition?” as he spoke, he gestured in roundabout circles with his hand as though that would help him remember. “I thought that mentioned Australia.”

“That’s the third edition, Papa,” she corrected gently. “And it does – but only to discuss the Devil’s Pool, which is in Queensland.”

“You always know something about everything,” he mused quietly, “è una delle tante cose che amo di te…well, I don’t know where we might begin then.”

At first, Keira was certain she’d misheard. But she gave the words a moment to sink in, translating them in her mind over and over again, staring at the top of Papa’s head as he regarded the book before him. When she did not move, and continued to stare, he looked up…and looked very much like the kid with his hand in the biscuit tin.

“What did you just say?” she asked quietly.

“Er…that you, ah…always know something about everything,” he said.

“After that.”

“I just repeated the same thing in Italian.”

“No you didn’t, you said something completely different.”

“You speak Italian now, Sister?” he chuckled as though she was being absurd.

“I’ve been taking classes.”

And he looked really caught then.

“Why?”

“To…to help with the translations of many of the texts here,” she said.

Papa looked sceptical at that, and she couldn’t blame him. Because it was bullshit. As if she couldn’t find another to translate them far more accurately than she could in any given room in the abbey – a native speaker. If that were the case, anyway, she’d be better off learning Latin. He would know that. He did know that, based on how his eyes remained fixed on her. The white one in particular felt like it saw all.

“…and…” she began slowly, “…for the same reason this is the first time you’re seeing me with chipped nail polish, or with messy hair, or…or…with my shirt wrongly buttoned.”

She hadn’t noticed that last bit until she was highlighting it. But her point still stood. Whenever Papa left with the ghouls, she no longer found herself quite so motivated to be so meticulous with her appearance. All right, it wasn’t like she turned up in sweatpants when he was gone, but there was a definite slacking of standards. If questioned on it, she would just say the usual effort was out of deference for Papa Emeritus IV. Not anything to do with wanting to catch the eye of Copia.

None ever did ask…but there were an uncomfortable number of knowing looks.

“I…I do not understand, Sister,” he breathed a laugh.

“Nor do I, because…because it sounds like you just said that you love me, but you can’t, because you’ve barely said a word to me in months.”

For a moment, he seemed amazed that she would even point such a thing out – and she wouldn’t have, ordinarily. Because he wasn’t just Copia anymore, he hadn’t been just Copia for a long time. He was Papa Emeritus IV, he bore a burden and a responsibility greater than she could ever imagine. What sort of nutter would she be if she stamped her feet over not being a priority amidst all of that?

“I’ve been on tour,” he said.

A response that sounded weak, for however valid it would have usually been.

“You didn’t text, you didn’t call, you didn’t…you didn’t email,” she pointed out. “You used to…you used to. Once. I don’t understand why…You didn’t even come to say goodbye!”

Hell, he’d written letters once. There had even been a handful of very cheesy postcards that now lived in a locked box on a shelf in her wardrobe. And Copia? Copia was staring at her, lips parted, like she’d just started speaking not in English, not in Italian, and not even in Latin, but some secret fourth belligerent tongue not yet known to man nor ghoul.

“I didn’t just say anything you did not already know,” he chuckled tiredly. “Forgive me, had I known you would understand, I would have said nothing. I know it makes you uncomfortable.”

“What does?”

“You’re being very cruel, Keira,” he said flatly, “and I don’t deserve it.”

He was pronouncing her name correctly now, but it left her even more at a loss for words.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about! How could I have known that you…that you…”

She couldn’t even say it, because she wasn’t entirely certain she hadn’t misunderstood. Because he was talking about it like it was some great horrendous problem to be swept under the rug, and not something she’d been daydreaming about for far longer than she’d ever admit.

“I told you,” impatience was creeping into his tone, fuelled by months upon months of touring. “A week before I left.”

“You most certainly did not!”

“I did! You were sitting right over there,” he gestured to the table in the far corner, the one she sat at on the few occasions that he took his meetings in the library, rather than in his office. “I…I confessed, and you pretended I had not said a word. Other than to look up and ask if I would like you to fetch me lunch while you took your break.”

That sparked a memory. Not the confession part, but the lunch part. It had been the last time he’d taken his meeting here, and she’d looked up to find him staring at her. Really staring. When he offered no explanation, when he did not break the silence, she’d asked that as a way of breaking the awkwardness.

After tapping the AirPod in her ear so that she’d be able to hear his answer.

“Papa,” she breathed, leaning against the nearest table if only because it allowed her to trust that she wouldn’t topple over. “I don’t suppose you know that when you take your meetings in here, I listen to music so as to give you privacy?”

He gaped at her – like he couldn’t quite decide whether or not to believe her.

“I didn’t see a wire,” he protested.

Keira sighed heavily, unsure as to whether she wanted to laugh, cry, or just plain die. Approaching the desk, she was warmed at least to find that he didn’t go reeling back to as not to be within six feet of her – as had been his habit since his attitude changed to her. For a reason she was now finally aware of.

Sliding open the top drawer to her desk, she took out the case containing her Bluetooth earphones, opened it, and plucked them out. Copia watched the whole process with a face that gradually slackened. When she turned to look at him, he breathed a weak laugh.

“The things they can do these days.”

“I didn’t know,” she dropped the earphones and the case down to the desk unceremoniously.

“I…was hardly subtle.”

“Neither was I!”

“I called you cara more than I ever called you by your name,” humour crept into his voice now.

Keira stared at him in dismay. “I thought you just couldn’t pronounce my name. I thought you were saying Keira.”

She shouldn’t have admitted it. It was just too stupid. It showed a level of selective blindness that none other could ever achieve. But Copia found it funny. He breathed a shocked laugh, and then it turned into proper mirth, painted lips stretching into a grin as he leaned forward, all but wheezing.

“You thought I couldn’t pronounce Keira?”

“It made sense at the time!”

She was protesting, and she was mortified, but above all of that she was relieved. That he was smiling. That he was looking at her. That the awkwardness that had held them hostage even while he was across the world was so quickly evaporating.

“I sing in English. For hours. Every night.”

“Well when you put it like that…”

“My sermons, cara. All in English!”

“It confused me, too! I didn’t want to be rude by asking! I…I thought it was sweet…”

The nay-sayers could say what they liked about Copia – about how he was a little awkward, and perhaps didn’t ooze confidence the same way Terzo did, but they didn’t understand. Primarily, the fact that was lost on them was how he was only awkward (which in itself was endearing to Keira) when he thought he had cause to be. When he didn’t, though? When he was before a crowd of screaming worshippers who had paid to be in his presence for a night? Or when he was standing before a woman who had just very exasperatedly confessed her love for him? There was little bumbling then.

Keira remained where she was, rooted to the spot as he rose and stepped forward, eventually backing her up until the desk pressed against her backside.

“You love me?” she asked again.

He breathed a laugh – like she’d just asked him whether the sky was blue.

“I always have.”

The sound Keira made in response to that was caught between a senseless murmur along with a sigh – and very, very involuntary. Staring up at him with wide eyes, she watched as his own gaze flickered from hers, to her lips, and then back up again.

“And…if you had heard me…back then…your answer would have been different?” he hazarded, his eyes flickering down to her lips and then back up to her eyes.

“I’m not thinking of getting you lunch right now, no,” she replied breathlessly.

Copia chuckled. And then he kissed her.

Links: AO3 -- FF.net -- flufftober masterpost -- dividers by cafekitsune

#esta's flufftober '23 fills #flufftober 2023 #flufftober2023 #ghost fic #ghost fanfic #papa emeritus iv x oc #papa emeritus iv/oc #popia x oc #popia/oc #papa emeritus iv fanfic #idiots in love

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ghuleh-witch · 5 months

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And We Are Tied As One Eternally

Fandom: Ghost Rating: Explicit Warnings: (For Future Chapters) NSFW, 18+, unprotected sex, p in v sex, oral sex, mentions of past abuse and domestic violence, references to suicide Relationships: Papa Emeritus IV/Copia x OFC Characters: Papa Emeritus IV/Copia, OFC Additional Tags: soft!dom Copia, eventual smut, developing relationship, no beta reader Chapter Word Count: 3720 Summary: Ellie Moran just wanted to make a new life for herself. Running to escape the people in her past, she ends up in a small town in the middle of nowhere that happens to be home to a Satanic church. She never expected her life to change again after she started attending the public masses at said church.

Ao3

Chapters: 1/?

Chapter One

“How do you even dress for mass at a Satanic church?” Ellie Moran said to herself as she stared into her closet. She wasn’t even sure why she was going to begin with. Ever since she saw a grown man in the coffee shop throw a fit over a flyer for the Ministry of Ghost, a Satantic church located on the outskirts of town, she’d been curious. The flyer was advertising public mass times for the next month. After watching the middle-aged man crinkle the flyer up and toss it in the trash, Ellie retrieved it and took it home. It was now lying on her vanity as smoothed out as she could make it.

If the church was causing such an uproar among the locals, Ellie knew she had to see what it was all about.

It had been two months since she moved to this new town—two months since she flipped her life upside down to be herself, live how she wanted to live, and finally escape. It had been two very long and lonely months though. Besides her job at the small bookstore on the corner of her street, she didn’t leave her apartment. There wasn’t much to do in the town, and the organizations she checked out, such as the women’s club, were filled with overly chipper, old women who would sneer at the tattoos that covered her arm. Ellie never intended to move to such a small town. She only moved there because it was the last place anyone would think to look for her.

She felt pathetic. At 30 years old she was starting over completely. She had no friends, no significant other, no degree or skills, and was working at a bookstore barely making enough to get by.

Ellie pulled a black skater dress out of her closet and looked it over, deciding if it was appropriate to wear to a church service. “It’s a satanic church, I don’t think they’re going to care what I wear,” she said to herself and shrugged, grabbing a dark green cardigan to wear over it. “Good enough” She slipped her feet into a pair of combat boots and looked in the mirror to finish her makeup and hair. She squeezed some mousse into the palm of her hand and scrunched it into her shoulder-length, dark blonde hair to help bring out her natural waves. She fixed her eyeliner and put on her favorite necklace; a pointed, wire-wrapped black tourmaline crystal before grabbing her bag and her car keys.

Her ancient Ford Focus sat mostly unused behind her apartment building, and thankfully, after surviving the drive across the country, it got her up to the church in one piece. She parked in the visitors’ lot and walked up the stoned pathway to the entrance. The church was huge and made of stone. Ellie knew at one point it must have been a Christian church. She could see faint outlines of crosses that used to be displayed on the building that were replaced with inverted crucifixes and pentagrams.

At the entrance there was a person, Ellie thought they might be a man but she couldn’t be sure, dressed all in black with something that looked like a modified gas mask with little horns on their head.

“Visitor?” They asked when Ellie approached.

“Er-Yea-I saw the flyer—”

“Straight down the hall, the large black doors on the left. Can’t miss it,” they said in a bored voice.

“Thanks,” Ellie said, entering into the building. She was in awe at all the marble and stained glass. There was so much natural light in the atrium and it created a warm and welcoming environment. It was beautiful and not what she was expecting. She had a vision of walking into some stifling hot building with black drapes all around and only candlelight to see by.

She found the door the person at the front told her to look for and went through. Inside was the sanctuary. It wasn’t as big as the ones she’d seen in Catholic churches, but it was just as beautiful. Stained glass windows lined the room and dark-stained pews sat among stone columns facing the pulpit. The room was mostly filled with men in black monk robes and women in black habits. There were less than a dozen people in street clothes like she was.

Ellie took a seat at the end of a pew in the back of the sanctuary. She wrung her fingers nervously as she looked around at everyone talking to one another. Once the sound of an organ filled the room, everyone began to quiet down. A procession of people entered the room from a side door near the front of the space. They were dressed in red and black robes and looked like the pictures of cardinals she’d seen at the Vatican. They took seats in the front two pews.

After the cardinals, three older men in nice suits and black and white skull paint enter followed by a woman in a dark gray skirt and blazer. Behind her, an elderly man with skull paint, a walker, and an oxygen tank was escorted into the room by a woman in a habit. The five of them took seats in the chairs that lined one of the side walls and the woman took a place in a nearby pew.

The organ music died down and another man with black and white skull paint on his face entered. He was dressed in immaculate black robes with a golden “IV” encircled in a starburst pattern on his chest. He wore a black stole with gold skulls running down its length and the mitre on his head was shaped in what looked like bat wings. His eyes, one of them a brilliant white, scanned the sanctuary, giving little nods to people he seemed to know sitting in the pews, and then his eyes settled on her.

She couldn’t take her eyes off his. It felt like he was staring right into the dark, deep depths of her soul. It was like a wave of electricity washed over her, making her sit up straight under his gaze. She could have sworn the faintest smirk formed on his lips before he turned his attention from her and back to the crowd as a whole.

Ellie didn’t know what was said during the sermon. She couldn’t help but stare at the man she now knew as Papa Emeritus IV after he introduced himself to the new people in the sanctuary. She stood whenever everyone else stood, kneeled when they all kneeled and attempted to sing the hymns that were sung. Then it was time for communion. Ellie stayed seated while everyone got in line. She watched as one by one people walked up to Papa, knelt in front of him as he said a few words and placed a communion wafer in their mouth, and then took a sip of wine from a goblet being held by one of the men in the nice suits before Papa made the sign of the inverted cross and they returned to their seat.

She noticed more than once his eyes flicked to her, and Ellie couldn’t help but squirm in her seat as though she had just gotten in trouble. Was she supposed to be standing in line with everyone else? She wasn’t sure if she was allowed to take communion. She wasn’t a member of the church and she wasn’t sure if she needed to do anything beforehand to be able to take communion. In the Baptist church she grew up in, one couldn’t take communion until they accepted Jesus as their savior and became a church member. Did she need to believe in Satan and be a member of the church to take communion here?

Once communion finished and the closing words said, the woman in the gray suit stood and invited everyone to join them for a potluck lunch in the refectory. Ellie wasn’t planning on staying, but when her stomach growled, she followed a group of women across the hall to the refectory. She wasn’t going to turn down free food when all she had in her apartment was a box of cereal and a few packs of ramen. While everyone mingled with their plates of food, Ellie stood along the wall finishing up a small turkey and cheese slider. She tossed her paper plate in the trash and watched as everyone talked and laughed, feeling incredibly left out.

Just go up to someone and introduce yourself , she told herself. You’ll never make friends if you’re standing here like an idiot.

“You didn’t take communion.”

Ellie jumped a little, startled by the accented voice coming from beside her. She turned and saw the Papa Emeritus IV himself standing there. He was still dressed in the same black robes he wore during the service. He was mirte-less now and she could see his mousy brown hair, peppered with the lightest touches of gray. She thought he looked handsome and wondered what he looked like without the paint on his face.

“I didn’t know if I was allowed to,” Ellie said, feeling his eyes stare into her gray ones once more. “I-uh-I’ve never been here before.”

“ Sí , I know,” he replied, holding out a hand to her. “Papa Emeritus the fourth, head of the clergy. And for future reference, anyone can take communion here. Eh, it’s more of a mockery of the Christian communion than anything of significance. What is your name, cara ?”

“Ellie Moran,” she said, shaking his gloved hand, the leather warm and soft against her palm. She thought she saw something in his eyes light up when she said her name.

“And what brings you to our ministry, Ellie?”

“Curiosity,” she answered honestly. “I saw someone throwing a fit over your flyer posted in the coffee shop, and well, I got curious. I’m new to the area and haven’t…found a place I fit in yet.” She thought she sounded so pathetic as she talked and wished she never said anything.

“How long have you lived here?” Papa asked with interest.

“Only two months,” she said.

“And how do you like it?”

Ellie shrugged. “It’s fine,” she answered. “The town is boring but it’s better than where I was.”

Papa was about to say something when the woman in the gray skirt and blazer approached him. “Cardi, we need to talk,” she said, seeming to not notice Ellie.

“Okie dokie, sister,” Papa responded before looking back to Ellie. “I’m sorry to leave you. Perhaps you will come to our next mass?”

Ellie nodded and watched him walk away with the woman and felt very alone again. Frowning, she slipped out of the dining hall and made her way back to the front entrance and her car, cursing herself that she didn’t talk to anyone else.

As she drove back into town and to her apartment and promised herself she’d go to mass again and next time, she’d talk to someone. XXX

Copia returned to the refectory a few minutes after Sister Imperator pulled him aside to talk to him about his sermon. His eyes scanned the room looking for Ellie. He frowned when he didn’t see her and turned to the ghoul standing near the door. “Did the woman in the green sweater leave?” He asked Aether.

“She did,” Aether answered. “A few minutes ago. She looked…sad.”

“Hmmm, thank you, Aether,” Copia said turning back to the rest of the people in the refectory. He had noticed her in the sanctuary sitting by herself in the back. His first thought was that she was striking. There was something about her that captured his attention and wanted to get to know her more. It was almost as if he was being drawn to her by an unseen force. He was a bit disappointed to find that she left already, not that he was expecting her to be waiting for him to come back. He hoped that she would come to the next mass. Next time he’d get to know her better. XXX

A few days later, Ellie was staring at the Satanic Bible on the bookshelf at her work. She didn’t often get to stock books in the spirituality section, but today she got to and the book caught her eye. She thought back on the mass she had attended just three days prior. She couldn’t remember what Papa was speaking about, but she could remember how he looked at her and how kind he seemed to be when she spoke to him briefly afterward.

But those eyes, she couldn’t get those eyes out of her head.

She stocked the books on Celtic Paganism in her arms and turned back to the Satanic Bible. She picked it up and flipped through it; it couldn’t hurt to learn something before she went to mass again that weekend.

“If it were my choice, I’d burn this whole section.”

Ellie turned to see her supervisor standing there with a stack of Bibles on the cart he was pushing. Charles was a larger man with a ruddy face and balding head. Ellie didn’t care for him. He constantly talked about his hunting trips and how his wife was the greatest thing since sliced bread. He could be an asshole at times and often stuck her with the shittiest tasks in the store, and because she was a people pleaser, just never complained and just did as she was told.

“Oh?” Ellie said.

“Freedom of religion is a joke in this country. This isn’t religion. This is evil, satanic bullshit,” he said glaring at the books. “But I don’t own the store so I don’t get a say in what’s stocked here. Maybe one day.” He pushed the cart passed her into the next aisle to stock the Bibles leaving Ellie standing there with a frown on her face.

Later that evening, she sat on her ugly burnt orange couch with her laptop open on her lap. She spent the last hour scouring the internet for information on the Ministry of Ghost. There wasn’t a whole lot. Their website looked like something that came out of the early internet in 1999, but there was a link to a YouTube channel entitled Ghost.

There were music videos and videos from concerts on the page of a band performing metal and rock songs. Ellie fell down a rabbit hole from there and learned that Ghost was a side project of the Ministry to help spread their message. Over the years they’ve been active, they were led by a few different men, the previous Papas, and their band of ghouls. The music was good, and Ellie ended up adding a few songs to her Spotify playlist. She then saw the videos of Papa Emeritus IV when he was still just a cardinal.

“Holy shit,” Ellie muttered as she watched him perform on stage while wearing a red cassock. The man could sing, she gave him that much, but the way he moved enthralled her. She even saw a video of his ascension from cardinal to Papa. At one point she thought she was drooling on her keyboard. There was no way that the man in the video and the one she met over the weekend were the same person. She had to snap her laptop shut because she didn’t think it was right to be lusting after what was the equivalent of the pope, even if he was satanic.

XXX

The next public mass was two weeks later, and Ellie was the first of the visitors to get there. She was dressed in a similar outfit as before; same black dress and boots, but she switched out her green cardigan for a blue one. She nodded to the man in the modified gas mask at the door and made her way to the sanctuary. As she stood in the doorway, she scanned the room, determined to sit by someone she could talk to. When she saw a woman in a habit sitting alone near the front, Ellie made her way to her. She stood at the end of the pew and cleared her throat a little.

“Do you mind if I sit here?” Ellie asked when the woman looked over to her.

The woman smiled and patted the seat next to her. “Please,” she said. She had dark brown bangs poking out from her veil and bright hazel eyes. “I’m Sister Gemma, but please, just call me Gemma. No need for formalities.”

“Ellie,” Ellie said sliding into the pew.

“First time here?”

“Second. I came to the last public mass a couple of weeks ago.”

“Oooo,” Gemma cooed. “You’re the first second-timer we’ve had in a while. Most visitors don’t come back after their times time. You thinking about joining?”

“I don’t know,” Ellie answered truthfully. She hadn’t really thought about it. She agreed with the tenets of santanism, but she wasn’t sure if she was ready to join the church just yet. “I don’t have to become a nun, do I? Are you a nun? I’m sorry I don’t know all the terminology.” She became flustered and hoped she wasn’t making too much of a fool of herself.

Gemma smiled kindly. “You’re fine. And yea, I’m kinda like a nun. The brothers and sisters here are called the Siblings of Din. And no, you don’t have to become a Sibling to join the church. There are a couple of non-sibling members here. Papa Terzo even had a townie for an assistant for a while.”

“Papa Terzo?” Ellie asked. She knew there were other Papas but she never heard the name before.

“Papa Emeritus the third. He was Papa Copia’s predecessor. It’s easier to say Papa and then their name instead of their whole title. It becomes a mouthful.”

Copia , Ellie thought, liking the sound of his name. She cleared her throat before speaking. “What would I have to do to join?”

“You’d need a sponsor. Everyone who is considering joining the ministry needs to be sponsored by an established member. We act as guides and teachers to help prepare you for membership here. If you consider joining, I’d love to be your sponsor. I have a good feeling about you.”

“I’ll thank about it,” Ellie said earnestly.

Gemma grinned. “I’ll give you my number after mass and you can let me know.”

Just as Ellie was about to say something else, the organ music started once more. Ellie watched the same procession of people enter the sanctuary, and when Copia stepped into the space, she saw his eyes search the sanctuary. His eyes found hers after a moment and his lips curved upward slightly, giving her a small nod of acknowledgment.

Ellie found herself smiling in return. She felt Gemma nudge her and saw the other woman had a look of delight on her face.

The service was very similar to the first one Ellie attended. The only difference this time was Gemma was whispering to her, explaining some of the things Copia was talking. Ellie tried to pay more attention this time, but she still found herself focused on Copia. He made her curious and she wanted to get to know who he was. She thought it was strange that she had these feelings. She never felt like this toward anyone before.

When it was once again time for communion, Gemma grabbed Ellie’s hand and pulled her into the line. Ellie remembered what Copia told her last time—that anyone could take communion, and it made her feel less nervous

“You don’t need to commit to anything.,” Gemma told Ellie. “Papa will say a little prayer in Latin as he puts the wafer in your mouth and you’ll say nema before you eat it and he does the sign of the inverted cross. Then Papa Terzo will offer you the chalice of wine to drink from. Same thing, he’ll say a quick prayer in Latin, you drink and say nema, and he makes the sign of the inverted cross. Then you stand and go back to your seat. Easy as pie.”

She stood behind Gemma and slowly moved as the line pushed forward. When Ellie realized she was next, she suddenly felt nervous. When she stepped up in front of Copia, he smiled.

“Glad to see you back, cara ,” he said.

She lowered herself to her kneels in front of him and tilted her head upward to look at him. She thought he suddenly looked as nervous as she felt, but then he was holding a communion wafer in his fingers and looking just as calm as before. He lowered his arm to serve her the wafer as he began saying something in Latin.

Ellie opened her mouth and he gently placed it on her tongue. Ellie had the desire to close her lips around the leather of his gloved fingers but kept herself from doing so. She swallowed the wafer. “Nema,” she said. She watched him make an inverted cross with his hands before taking a step to the side to allow one of the men in skull paint and a suit to step up to her.

“You’re a pretty thing,” Terzo said as he looked down at her with a smirk. He offered her the chalice and titled it for her to drink from. “That’s it, tesoro,” he cooed before saying his prayer in Latin.

“Nema,” Ellie replied after swallowing the sip of wine.

After he made the sign of the inverted cross Ellie stood and went back to her seat. “I think he was flirting with me,” she whispered to Gemma.

“Who?” Gemma asked with interest.

“Papa Terzo,” Ellie answered.

“Oh. He flirts with everyone. And I mean everyone,” Gemma said. “Why did it make you uncomfortable? If you tell him he won’t do it again.”

“No, it’s fine. I didn’t mind. I just wasn’t expecting it,” Ellie shrugged.

“I’m sorry I should have warned you,” Gemma responded. “You staying for the luncheon?”

Ellie thought it over for a second. She was enjoying Gemma’s company, and if Ellie stayed she could continue getting to know Gemma and maybe meet some other people.

And also maybe she’d get to talk to Copia again.

Translations:

Sí-yes Cara-dear/darling tesoro-treasure

#Ghost #the band Ghost #copia #papa emeritus iv #papa emeritus iv x oc #copia x oc #copia x ofc #papa emeritus x ofc #ghost fanfic #my fanfic #papa emeritus fanfic #copia fanfic #papa emeritus iv fanfic #awataoe

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sirlsplayland · 10 months

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soft Dracopia art with my oc Marzana wip

#ghost #papa emeritus iv #dracopia #artists on tumblr #papa emeritus iv x oc

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silverofthunder · 5 months

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☆ you're stuck on me like a tattoo ☆

Papa Emeritus IV x Dante (OC) || AO3

summary: Dante tried to focus on the surrounding walls, the curtain artwork and the background music but it was really hard. Something in Copia was basically just inviting him to look and after a while he found himself looking at the man again.

content: 6.6k words, tattoo!AU, OC (male), getting to know each other, fluff, romance, just two idiots being awkward, bad attempt at humor, SFW

So, this fic got really out of hand. I don't know how this happened. I guess I had some kind of brain malfunction as this got so long. Tattoos are my weak point, I really love them! Also, this is a first time I created OC. I'm starting to enjoy writing more and more and maybe I'm slowly getting better in general. 😊 This was such a fun journey, hope you like this, too! ♡

It was early Friday morning as Dante was making his way to the tattoo studio nearby. The air of chilly autumn morning was pinching his cheeks and he tried to move up his scarf to protect his face more.

It didn’t take long before he stood in front of the tattoo studio, the sign ”The Ministry Ink” glowing red above the door. He pushed the door open, stepping in and taking in all the surroundings. The interior made him think some kind of a church, though it was mostly dark and… loomy. Music playing in the background fitted perfectly with the mood.

”Good morning, how can I help you?”

Dante startled a bit and looked up at the lady who was standing behind the counter.

”Good morning, I was coming to see the outlines sketches for my tattoo. I sent you an email about that a few days ago,” Dante informed while walking to the counter.

”Let’s see…” the lady said quietly, looking at the computer, then asking for his full name. Dante gave the name and she typed it fast, making a few clicks before moving her gaze to him.

”Yes, it seems Copia has made you the outline sketches so I’ll go get him. Please, wait a moment.”

Dante thanked her and watched as she disappeared to the back. Soon she came back, followed by a man who had his whole face tattooed… or was it just make up? Dante couldn’t tell, just stared at the man eyes wide and mouth slightly open.

”Congrats, Paps, you’ve done it again, scaring the customers,” the lady laughed and Dante felt the tingling of blush on his cheeks as he looked at the man who just rolled his mismatched eyes.

”It’s just make up, don’t worry,” the man said, offering Dante a smile and he found it oddly charming. ”I’m Copia and she’s Cirrus, my always so lovely co-worker.”

Dante nodded and shifted awkwardly.

”So, you sent some ideas for the tattoo and I’ve done a few different outline sketches of them. Follow me,” Copia said, walking over to the curtain on the left corner of the studio. Behind it was a tattooing space, two chairs and a small table with some inks and other equipment.

”Please, sit down,” Copia urged, motioning to the tattooing chair. Dante sat down and Copia gave him a few papers.

Dante’s eyes widened as he saw the outline sketches – they were so cool. Copia had managed to combine all of his wishes perfectly and with different ways.

”These are amazing,” Dante sighed in awe. ”It’s gonna be hard to choose just one.”

”Thank you, I always try my best,” Copia told. ”And go with what seems to be most you.”

Dante went through the options, eyes scanning the little differences. The third one had something that felt the most inviting.

”Copia!” someone shouted suddenly and Dante was startled again, nearly dropping the papers.

”Sorry, I need to go there for a moment. Take your time,” Copia said, exiting the space. Dante heard some pretty heated conversation and it made him feel a bit uncomfortable.

When Copia came back, he looked a bit frustrated.

”Apologies for that.”

”A bit of drama going on?” Dante wasn’t sure if he should ask that but Copia didn’t seem to mind the question. With a sigh the man sat down on the smaller chair.

”Yeah, you could say so. The customers shouldn’t get to hear that as I don’t want people getting a bad impression of us.”

”Don’t worry, I’m not gonna give you a bad rating.” It just slipped out and Dante slapped his hand over his mouth.

Copia let out a little laugh. ”I hope not since you haven’t even gotten your tattoo done yet.”

Dante felt the blush rising to his cheeks again and Copia eyed him with curiosity.

”I assume this is going to be your first tattoo?”

”Yes. I’m a bit nervous, to be honest.”

”I could tell,” Copia said, offering a small smile. ”Don’t worry, you’re going to be in good hands.”

It felt at least a bit comforting and Dante smiled back at Copia.

”I’ve made my choice. I’ll go with this one,” Dante said, giving one of the papers back to Copia.

”Great. You can keep those other two options if you want. And you told that you wanted this on your upper arm if I remember correctly?”

Dante nodded, pointing his left arm. ”Yes, right here.”

”Cool. I guess we have it settled then,” Copia stated, standing up and Dante did the same. They exited the tattooing space and Dante was ready to leave.

”I already booked the time, it’s in a week, so…”

”Good, I’ll see you then. Thank you and have a nice day!”

”Thanks, you too!” Dante said and left the studio.

The week went by fast and Dante finally found himself on the chair, upper arm exposed. All the preparations were already made and Dante was still a bit nervous despite Copia’s calming chatting. Dante shifted on the chair for what felt like a millionth time and it didn’t go unnoticed.

”We have all the time. You can ask for a break at any time.”

”Sorry, I’m not usually this nervous,” Dante stated, taking then a deep breath in, slowly releasing it. ”Okay, you can start now.”

Copia looked at him for a moment before lowering his gaze to Dante’s arm. Dante was expecting a bit more uncomfortable feeling as the needles started to spread ink under his skin but it wasn’t that bad and he managed to relax more after a while.

He wasn’t sure how much of talking Copia liked while working so he decided to just observe him in silence. Copia had both of his arms fully tattooed and the tank top he was wearing was so big Dante could see a bit of chest peaking out, exposing a part of a tattoo. Slowly he moved his gaze to Copia’s face, letting his eyes follow the lines of make up. It was unusual, or something he hadn’t seen before at least, but somehow it looked cool.

”Why haven’t you tattooed your face?” Dante couldn’t help but ask eventually.

”Very short answer: I don’t want to,” Copia said, a hint of smile on his lips. ”And there is still free space for tattoos elsewhere.”

”Oh, I see.”

”This make up is just because I like to be a bit extreme and also it kind of works as a mask, you know.”

”I wasn’t going to ask about that,” Dante tried, getting a quick glance from Copia.

”You certainly were. Everyone has asked about it so far. People are curious and I don’t mind it.”

”It looks nice,” Dante stated bluntly. Copia smiled at that, eyes glued to Dante’s arm as he was working on the tattoo.

”Thank you.”

Silence fell between them and Dante let his gaze study Copia more. The man was most likely at least 10, even 15 years older than him, though he was definitely toned as the pants hugged tightly his thighs and legs overall. Dante swallowed, tearing his gaze away as his cheeks started to heat up.

Fuck. Why did he had to blush like some teenage boy? Also, this wasn’t a place to have any inappropriate thoughts.

He tried to focus on the surrounding walls, the curtain artwork and the background music but it was really hard. Something in Copia was basically just inviting him to look and after a while he found himself looking at the man again. This time he let his gaze go over the tattoos covering his arms. There was a cool design of the devil near his elbow bend, the tail of it continuing to his arm, circling a skeleton-faced pope while changing into a snake. A mix of different flowers were thrown between the designs, along with some vines, probably to cover the extra space the designs would have otherwise left to the skin.

”We can take a little break now and then I finish this,” Copia’s voice broke Dante out of his thoughts and their eyes met. The mismatched one's seemed to bore into his soul and suddenly Dante’s mouth felt dry.

”Oh, okay,” he stuttered, attempting to smile. Copia looked amused while putting the tattoo machine to its place on the small table. Dante stood up, really needing to get a few minutes of fresh air.

”Feel free to take something to drink from the table near the entrance,” Copia said and Dante nodded, pulling the curtain aside and walking towards the table. He decided to go with coffee, filled the cup and took it with him as he went outside.

He breathed slowly in the surprisingly warm autumn air and then puffed it out. What an experience this had been so far. He knew he could be awkward but now it seemed to have reached a new level.

He took a sip of the coffee, the warmth feeling so good and easing the dryness in his mouth. A few passers-by glanced at him strangely – probably because he was only wearing a t-shirt and it was late autumn, after all. He stood there a moment before going back in, finishing his coffee and throwing the cup to the trash can.

There was a man standing behind the counter and Dante couldn’t recall seeing him before. He looked at Dante, nodding and smiling and Dante did the same.

”Hey, boss?!” the man called and soon Copia came from the back room.

Boss? Did Copia own this place or…?

Dante looked as the two men talked about something and at some point Copia’s gaze landed on him. Dante swallowed, shifting and playing with the he of his shirt as he moved his gaze away. Quickly he made his way back to the tattoo chair and hoped this all would be over fast. Copia joined him shortly, pulling the curtain to give them privacy and sat down, taking the tattoo machine from the table.

”So, let’s finish this,” Copia said quietly and Dante took a better position on the chair, fixing his gaze to the curtain. Rest of the time went in complete silence apart from the sound of the tattoo machine and the background music.

When Dante finally got a proper look at the finished tattoo, he was in awe. It looked amazing. Also, he felt so proud he had finally gotten the courage to take it. After all, he had thought about getting one for several years.

And now he finally had it. He would probably spend a lot of time staring at it for the upcoming weeks but of course it would take time to get used to it.

Dante was rushing to the record store as it was supposed to be opened in an half on hour. His cousin who owned the place had gotten sick and so she had asked Dante to help her and of course he had agreed. He actually worked there already but did mostly cleaning and other chores his cousin came up with.

He finally got the store’s back door, fumbled with the keys before getting the door open and stepping inside. He put the alarm off and looked for the light switch to turn on the lights. Then he went to the staff premises and took off his coat, hanging it on a coat rack, and checked the time. He still had around 20 minutes left and he set the coffeemaker ready so he could have his morning coffee.

Everything seemed to be right as he went through the store as fast as he could. It wasn’t a surprise as his cousin was pretty precise and liked everything to be in order. Well, at least it made his work easier. He went to get his coffee and then came to finally unlock the main door. For his luck there wasn’t yet any customers waiting outside and he made his way behind the counter, opening the computer while taking sips of his coffee.

Now he only had to wait and hope this day would be more quiet.

Dante had gotten a pile of records from the small storage room and was walking backwards while exiting there and his back collided with someone as he tried to close the door with his foot. He startled, apologizing and turned around, coming face to face with a familiar man. His eyes widened and he nearly dropped the records.

”Good afternoon,” Copia said, smiling.

”I wasn’t expecting to see you here,” Dante stated, mentally wanting to kick himself as soons as the words had left from his mouth.

Copia chuckled. ”I could say the same.”

”Well, I work here. My cousin owns the store but she is not here tonight. Caught a flu and had to stay at home. So it’s only me today.”

”Oh, I see…” Copia said quietly. ”How’s the tattoo?”

”It has healed well,” Dante answered. ”Slowly getting used to it. Still admiring it every day, though.”

”Nice to know that you don’t regret taking it.”

”God, no, I could never! I love it, it’s beautiful. Thank you again.”

Copia waved his hand, clearly playing modest but his eyes shone in a way that told he was pleased to hear that. A brief moment of silence fell between them and Dante shifted, trying to adjust the records in his hands.

”Do you need help with those? I got no rush and I also came to look for a record I could buy for my friend.”

”Yeah, sure, you can help if you want to,” Dante said and Copia reached out to take at least half of the records to himself. ”Follow me.”

Dante led Copia to the rack where the records were supposed to be put up. They organized them together and Dante felt oddly calm now that he had recovered from the surprise of seeing Copia again.

”Your friend, what kind of music they like?” Dante asked after a while.

”She’s a huge fan of classical music, believe or not,” Copia answered. ”Not my style at all, so I really could use some help.”

”Not my style either but luckily my cousin has taught me something about different music styles. A few options came to my mind, I can go get them and you can choose from them.

”Thanks,” Copia said and Dante went to look for the records. It took a good while to find the other one and when he returned, Copia was now looking at the death metal section, going through the records.

”Sorry, it was hard to find the other one but here they are,” Dante told and Copia turned to him, taking a look at the records.

”I probably have to take both and hope my friend likes them.”

”And if she doesn’t you can always blame the guy from a record store of a wrong choice.”

Dante’s words made Copia laugh, a proper laugh this time and Dante found the sound of it endearing. He couldn’t help but smile and this odd warmth made a little dance at the bottom of his stomach.

”I might have to protect myself from her wrath so I might have to do that,” Copia stated playfully.

”Sounds like a great friend.”

”She is,” Copia said, his voice soft. Then he took a look at his watch, letting out a sigh that sounded almost like a disappointment. ”I should go but before I need to pay for these…”

”Yeah, of course.”

Dante led them to the counter and took the payment and with a goodbye and one last smile, he watched as Copia left the store. Sighing, he sank onto the chair behind the counter and slammed his hands to his face.

How the hell was that man so intriguing?

The next time Dante saw Copia, the situation was unconventional. It had been a long week and he had come to the bar to have a one drink when some big guy had approached him. At first the guy had seemed to be polite but soon Dante had found himself telling the guy for what felt like a millionth time that he didn’t want more drinks or company. He also was getting a bit too close to him, touching him and Dante didn’t like it at all.

He tried to just leave, getting up but was stopped by the guy’s hand taking a hold of his arm.

”I need to go,” Dante said, trying to sound as determined as he could. ”Let me go.”

”Nah, you can stay for a while,” the guy spoke, pulling Dante towards himself. ”Just one drink, pretty boy.”

”No, I said I don’t want to.”

The guy rolled his eyes, now taking a hold of Dante’s other hand and Dante’s heart rate picked up.

”Let him go,” Dante then heard a voice and when he turned to look at the man who had spoken, he was so releaved to see it was Copia.

”Who are you, his boyfriend?” the big guy asked, staring hard at Copia.

”Yes,” Copia answered and Dante’s heart probably missed a beat. ”Now, let him go.”

Dante could hear Copia’s voice cracking a bit. The guy was much bigger than him and it wouldn’t be nice to get into a fight.

”Fuck it,” the big guy said and for their luck, finally let go of Dante. ”Keep your pretty boy.”

Copia sent some death glares after the guy and Dante sighed, rubbing his arm.

”Thanks for saving me.”

Copia’s eyes found his. ”No problem, was lucky to be here at the right time.”

”Yeah…” Dante muttered, though Copia most likely didn’t hear it due to music playing loudly.

”Are you alright?” Copia asked, eyeing Dante with concern.

”Yes, I just want to get out of here now.”

Copia nodded, taking Dante’s hand in his and leading him outside, only stopping to get their coats on the way. As soon as the fresh cool air touched Dante’s face, he let out a long sigh. He leaned against the nearest wall, gaze landing on Copia who stood in front of him, hands in his coat pockets.

”That could have gone wrong there.”

”He was a complete jerk,” Copia huffed. ”I was lucky the boyfriend card worked.”

”Done that before?” Dante’s eyebrow quirked up.

”Once but it almost didn’t work back then. My friend had to kick the guy in his balls,” Copia told, a small smile rising to his lips. ”It was a bit embarrasing for me, though. I’m not used to scare people off or anything. I mean…” he trailed off.

Dante laughed a little. ”I get what you mean.”

Copia smiled, reaching out to grab Dante’s scarf and fixing it better around his neck. Something warm fluttered in Dante’s chest as Copia’s glove covered hands brushed his chin, and for a moment he just froze, staring at the man before him.

However, the moment was gone soon, and Copia took a step away from him, the disappointment settling into Dante as the distance between them grew.

”Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to--” Copia lowered his gaze, fidgeting with his gloves.

”It’s alright,” Dante said quietly, slowly reaching out to brush his hand against Copia’s arm, gaze fixed on Copia’s face. He didn’t meet his gaze but a small smile tugged at his lips and he leaned against Dante’s touch. It was fascinating to see Copia not so confident as he has been previously.

”Should we take a walk?” Dante suggested then and Copia nodded, briefly glancing at him.

They decided to head for more quiet direction, chatting and laughing and stopping to take some random photos every once in a while – or Dante took photos while Copia just shook his head with a smile on his lips. Time flew by fast and Dante was starting to feel sad that they would have to part soon.

Copia had insisted that they would walk to where Dante lived so now they were standing before the doors of the apartment house.

”So…” Dante started quietly, fidgeting and stepping closer to the doors. ”I guess, I should go.”

”Yeah…” Copia stated. ”I had a fun night.”

”Me too.” Dante smiled.

An awkward silence fell between them while they just looked at each other. Dante wanted to ask if they could see each other again soon but didn’t dare to do so. He was afraid it would be too much or too weird.

”Okay, I’ll go now,” Dante said, motioning to the doors. ”See you around, I guess?”

Copia nodded, smiling. ”Hopefully.”

With one last smile at Copia, Dante turned and went to the doors, opening the lock. As soon as he got inside he leaned against the wall, sighing.

If this night had proved something, it was definitely the fact that he was developing a crush on Copia.

The next day Dante was sitting on his favorite coffee shop, sipping the hot coffee while absentmindedly reading some news from his phone. There wasn’t anything really that interesting but he was a bit tired and didn’t know anything better to do. People around him were immersed in conversations, the clink of dishes reaching his ears from farther off.

”I think I’m gonna sit here? It’s quite packed elsewhere.”

The familiar voice made Dante nearly to inhale his coffee and he coughed, lifting his gaze up. Copia stood there a coffee cup in his hand, smiling.

Dante nodded, motioning to the seat opposite him, and Copia sat down.

”Stalking me, eh?” Dante asked, teasing, and Copia let out a little laugh.

”No, it seems that fate wants us to cross our paths.”

Dante hummed, sipping his coffee eyes glued to Copia who lowered his gaze, posture changing more stiff while he tapped the side of his cup. He seemed to get lost in his thoughts and Dante decided to keep quiet, waiting for Copia to speak again.

”Uhm… Last night…” Copia spoke soon, clearly hesitating. ”I wanted to ask if… you would want to go out with me?”

Dante’s eyes widened, heart missing a beat in his chest, the warmth starting to flutter in the bottom of his stomach. Copia was now looking at him and Dante just blinked.

”I’m sorry if I’m mistaken--” Copia didn’t get to finish his sentence as Dante gave his answer.

”Yeah, I would love that.”

Copia relaxed instantly, letting out a small sigh. Apparently he had expected the opposite answer and Dante couldn’t blame him. If he had been the one to ask that, he would have prepared himself to get a firm ’no’ as an asnwer.

”Great,” Copia said, offering Dante the softest smile and Dante felt like he could melt. ”You free tonight?”

”I’ve got to do a few hours shift at the record store but after that I have all the time. The shift ends at 8 pm.”

Copia nodded and took a sip of his coffee.

”I have no idea what we could do but I’ll pick you up then,” Copia said, biting his lower lip and smoothing his hand over his hair.

Smiling Dante shrugged.

”I could ask my cousin if we can use the space above the record store. There is a small room that used to be an apartment but now it’s used more of as a storage. Maybe we could listen some records, have a nice meal and drink…?”

”That sounds nice.”

”It’s settled then.”

They finished their coffees in silence and exited the coffee shop together. Dante offered to walk with Copia to the tattoo studio as he still had several hours before the start of his work shift. All the way to the tattoo studio Dante felt so giddly and he had to pinch himself a few times so he could realize what had just happened.

They stopped before the tattoo studio entrance and Dante could see Copia’s co-workers through the large windows.

”Must be nice to own the whole company,” Dante stated, making a random conversation just so that he could stall the inevitable parting.

”It has its good and bad sides,” Copia said, shrugging. ”My mom, who used to run the whole thing before, is still trying to meddle and it’s kind of annoying.”

”Oh…”

”But I love the job itself, though. Even though I’m not the most social person, I still like to meet new people and give them their desired works of ink art.”

”Your work is honestly stunning.”

Copia shook his head smiling, trying to brush the compliment off with a wave of hand, and Dante shoved him playfully with his fist.

”Hey, I’m really starting to think of getting another one so I could admire your work more,” Dante said and it was actually the truth. He had thought about getting another tattoo and he even had a small idea for it.

Copia chuckled. ”I knew you would want more. Most people do.”

”Excuse me, I’m going…” a person interrupted their conversation and they moved so that the person could get into the tattoo studio.

Copia let out a sigh. ”I should go…”

”Yeah, obviously. I didn’t mean to keep you,” Dante said, stepping forward to Copia. ”Go work on your magic.”

Smiling Copia reached out his hand and Dante did the same, their fingers brushing slightly.

”See you later.”

”Later…” Dante sighed, finally turning and heading back home with a fluttering heart and a smile on his lips.

”This is… something,” Copia said, his gaze taking in the small apartment-like room.

”Well, it’s probably better than a bar with full of drunk people.”

”Definitely,” Copia agreed, walking towards the record player that stood on the table beside the old, worn out couch. ”Are you sure this works?”

”I hope so. Last time I used it, it worked so…” Dante stated, setting the snacks and a few drinks on the bigger table near the couch. He watched as Copia blew the dust off the record player and chose one of the records they had brought with them and put in the player.

It took a moment before the music filled the air and Copia made a little happy jump at that and Dante found it cute. Dante grabbed a bag of crisps and opened it while slumping on the couch, causing a cloud of dust into the air.

”Oops,” he giggled and Copia looked at him with curiosity. Dante shifted and patted the couch with his free hand. Copia understood the gesture and came to sit beside him, arching his back against the backrest of the couch. The movement caused his shirt to go up, revealing a sliver of his belly, and Dante swallowed as he saw the ink patterns there, in the midst of dark hair. Of course Copia had tattoos there, too. Dante grabbed a handful of crisps and stuffed them to his mouth.

”Don’t eat them all,” Copia laughed, reaching towards the bag, and Dante let him take some. Silence fell between them as they munched the crisps.

Eventually the saltiness made Dante thirsty and he put the crisp bag onto the table, taking his drink – non-alcoholic as he wasn’t much of a drinker – and opening it. The taste was sweet but not too sweet, just as he liked it. Dante let his gaze wander again, fully knowing that Copia could see it. His eyes went from Copia’s face to his chest where tattooed skin was visible as Copia hadn’t fully buttoned his shirt up – maybe deliberately.

A part of Dante expected Copia to ask if he liked what he saw but instead Copia stayed silent. He let his gaze go down, stopping to the thighs that were tightly hugged by the jeans. The were quite a lot of holes in them, skin peeking out, and Dante discovered that there were a few places where he couldn’t see any ink covering the skin. When he finally lifted up his gaze, meeting Copia’s mismatched eyes, his heart missed a beat, blush creeping onto his cheeks.

The look in Copia’s eyes was still curious but now there was something else, too. Certain softness that made warmth spread all over Dante.

It was Copia who eventually broke the silence.

”I don’t usually date my customers but there was something about you…” he started, leaning closer and sliding his hand to Dante’s knee, fingers drawing a random pattern there before pulling his hand back. ”I can’t really explain it but I got this feeling that I had to know more about you.”

”I could uhm… say the same about you,” Dante admitted, after all it was the truth. ”Your looks, obviously, played a part, too. Tattoos and everything…”

A slight smirk rose to Copia’s lips.

”Obviously. I’m glad that this old man still has some kind of charm when it comes to looks.”

”You’re not old,” Dante stated, gently nudging Copia’s thigh. ”And you surely work out, right?”

”A little.”

Dante smirked, moving closer to Copia. ”I could tell.”

Copia’s brows rose, reaching out his other hand and settling it under Dante’s chin, thumb caressing the skin. ”How do you feel with me?”

The question wasn’t something Dante had expected but he didn’t really need to think of the answer. ”Like I can just be myself. Safe.”

Copia hummed, smiling as he slid his hand down, along Dante’s neck and Dante was sure he forgot to breathe for a moment.

”Safe,” Copia repeated quietly and Dante nodded, eyes glued to Copia’s. His heart was beating fast in his chest as he waited for Copia’s next move. Copia leaned in, so close that Dante could feel his breath on his face, hand still caressing Dante’s neck.

”So handsome,” Copia whispered, his slightly raspy voice making Dante’s cheeks to burn and something in his stomach turn in a pleasant way.

Oh god…

Dante drew in a shaky breath, blinking as if to make sure that he didn’t imagine the whole situation. Copia was so close, eyes studying him, hand resting on Dante’s neck and Dante was at a loss of words. He knew where this could go, they both knew. But Dante wasn’t sure if he was ready for this to go that far, yet.

He shifted, lowering his gaze and that was enough for Copia to pull away.

”It’s alright,” Copia said softly and Dante let out a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding. When he finally dared to look at Copia again, he didn’t find any judgement or dissatisfaction in his expression.

”I don’t know--”

”You don’t have to explain, I understand,” Copia spoke, taking Dante’s hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze. ”Also, I’m not looking just for a moment of fun.”

”Me neither,” Dante stated, offering a smile to Copia.

”So, were are on the same page, then.” Copia smiled, bringing Dante’s hand up to his lips, pressing a light kiss on it. Dante chuckled and rolled his eyes at the gesture – it was such a cliche but sweet anyway.

”I’m curious… How many customers you’ve asked out?” Dante asked leaning against the backrest of the couch, tilting his head.

”Besides you there’s been like… two. Though one of them actually asked me out so basically one. Happened outside of work, obviously.”

”Of course, I didn’t even think… well, you know,” Dante said. ”And all of them were guys?”

”Yes,” Copia answered. ”What about you?”

Dante knew Copia would ask that.

”There’s been a lady and a few guys.”

Copia didn’t seem surprised by his answer and he didn’t even ask more about that. It was nice as Dante had had to explain the whole thing way too many times to people and it was kind of tiring.

They continued to chat while drinking and eating all the snacks, eventually ran out of records to listen to, and just like before the time passed quickly. Way too quickly. Dante didn’t want the night to end but he was getting tired – no matter how hard he tried to deny it – and he didn’t fancy sleeping at the dusty apartment.

Copia was being a gentleman again and offered to walk with him to Dante’s place and so they picked up all the trash and took them out. Copia was carrying the records as they walked on the dimly lit street, side by side in a comfortable silence. The night wasn’t so cold this time for which Dante was happy. He wasn’t a huge fan of soon-to-be winter but it wasn’t that bad as long as it wasn’t too cold.

Soon they were standing outside the doors to Dante’s apartment and the moment of parting had come. They probably looked pretty dumb standing there, staring at each other and fidgeting. Dante’s gaze fell to Copia’s lips and he so badly wanted to kiss the man. Copia took a step closer to him, wetting his lips instinctively while his other hand cupped Dante’s chin.

Dante leaned into the touch and with a slight nod he gave Copia a permission to lean in and capture his lips in a kiss. It was chaste but it made Dante’s heart flutter happily and warmth tingle in his body. The taste and scent of Copia filled Dante’s senses and it was intoxicating and comforting at the same time.

When they eventually parted, they were both beaming and Dante couldn’t remember when he had last felt like this.

”Good night,” Copia said quietly, leaning in again and this time pressing a light kiss to Dante’s cheek.

”Good night,” Dante sighed, watching as Copia stepped further from him and turned to leave. He stared after him for a good while, completely drunk on the feeling within him, before heading inside.

As soon as he had gotten into his flat, he discarded his coat and stuff he didn’t need and went straight to the couch. He grabbed a pillow while falling onto the couch and smashed it to his face, letting out a scream that would have otherwise been heard by his neighbours.

He was so gone.

Things progressed pretty smoothly over the next weeks and Dante became a pretty much constant guest at the tattoo studio, just sitting there, drinking coffee and chatting with either Copia or his co-workers. He obviously was allowed to use staff room and a few times he and Copia had been caught kissing there and… Well, Copia’s co-workers remembered to always tease them about those insidents that they had witnessed.

Now Copia and Dante were just chilling at the room, Dante sitting on Copia’s lap. Copia’s arms were wrapped around Dante’s waist and his head was resting on Dante’s shoulder as he was watching the pics Dante showed him from his phone.

Someone knocked the wall outside the room and spoke.

”Are you two still having clothes on?”

The pair glanced at each other briefly before Copia answered.

”Just come here, Dew.”

The man entered the room, shaking his head as he saw the pair, though his smile told that he wasn’t actually that annoyed by the situation. He went to grab something to eat from the fridge and then peeked over Dante’s shoulder.

”What are you even-- Wait, are those rats?”

”Yes, pet rats. My friend can’t keep them as she is moving and she’s now suggesting that I take them,” Dante explained.

”Oh, cool,” Dew stated. ”They seem kinda cute.”

”I’m not sure I can fit them to my small flat…” Dante said, biting his lower lip. ”Even though they are small, they still need space. My friend would be crushed if she had to put them down.”

”What about you, boss? You have space and you used to have rats before.”

Dante turned to look at Copia with pleading eyes.

”Could you take them? Please.”

Copia seemed to ponder his options.

”Well… I guess I can take them.”

”Oh, you’re lifesaver, literally,” Dante said happily, planting a kiss on Copia’s forehead. ”Thank you.”

Copia smiled softly at Dante.

”Problem solved, it seems,” Dew stated seeming a bit smug and left the room with his meal.

Sighing Copia buried his face to the crook of Dante’s neck. Dante’s other hand went to Copia’s hair, starting to run his fingers through them and Copia hummed, then mumbled something.

”What?” Dante asked, voice quiet.

”I should go back to work,” Copia said, sounding disappointed. ”My next customer is probably soon here and I really should check some emails at some point, too.”

”Time to go, then,” Dante urged and stood up with reluctance. ”I should probably go see my friend and let her know that you’re willing to take the rats.”

”Oh, hopefully they aren’t the same kind of rascals my deceased ones were.”

”They are nice, at least in my opinion.”

Copia eyed him with suspicion and Dante grinned.

”We’ll see…”

The rats really weren’t that bad and Copia became attached to them quite soon. Dante’s friend had been over the moon as Copia had taken her babies and Dante was happy, too. Watching Copia to take care of them, the way he was so gentle with them, chuckling softly as one of them nibbled at his clothes, made Dante’s heart soar.

He was presently sitting on the couch in Copia’s living room while Copia sat on the floor, feeding Tweety some treats. Inky was in the big cage, waiting for her turn. Their names were quite amusing and Dante remembered vividly when Copia had heard the names for the first time and straight out bursted out laughing. Dante’s friend had looked so offended that Dante had been sure she wouldn’t have let Copia to take them.

”Do you still think they have horrible names?”

”Well…” Copia dragged the word. ”Yes, but maybe I’ll get used to them. At least they are lovely little creatures.”

Dante hummed. ”I knew you would fall in love with them. I’m not a huge fan of rats and even I like them.”

”I’m glad I could help your friend, though she might not be my number one fan,” Copia stated smiling and gently picked up Tweety, petting her a little, then opening the cage door and putting her inside. Inky already knew what was going to happen and she hopped out of the cage, nearly catching the bag of treats but luckily Copia was faster and picked it up.

”As long as you keep sending her pics of the rats and updating about their life, I’m sure she will warm up to you.”

”I hope so.”

Inky got her share of treats and after that Copia picked her up, too, bringing her close to his face. Then he gave her the tiniest of kisses and Dante cooed.

”Seems like someone has a favorite.”

”Shut up.”

Dante shook his head and waited until Copia finally let Inky to join Tweety in the cage. As soon as Copia sat down beside him, Dante used his chance and stole a kiss from the man.

”Oh, someone is jealous,” Copia smirked, earning a playful shove from Dante.

”I’m not!”

With a wide smile on his lips Copia cupped Dante’s face and pulled him into a proper kiss. Dante melted into it, pressing his body against Copia’s, his hands settling on Copia’s sides.

As the air eventually became needed, they parted, wide smiles on their lips.

”Do you now know what kind of tattoo you want next?”

Sighing, Dante moved himself onto Copia’s lap and put his other hand on the man’s chest, close to where he knew Copia’s heart tattoo was, now covered by a thin t-shirt. Dante had thought about the next tattoo for quite a while and now the idea was fully clear in his head and he couldn’t wait to get it done. Looking at Copia straight into eyes, happy smile on his lips, he finally gave his answer.

”Of course I know.”

#papa emeritus iv x oc #copia x oc #ghost band fic #ghost band fanfic #jen writes fics

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anamelessfool · 8 months

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The Return of the Thin White Duke, Throwing Darts in Lovers' Eyes...

Hey don't worry about me, just being angsty about something that happens like 50,000+ words from now.....

#Currently Listening To #happy saturday #i am super proud of this though #ghost fandom #ao3 author #the band ghost #ghost scenes from the void #ghost band fic #anamelessfool writes #papa emeritus iv #copia x marian #papa emeritus iv x oc #cardinal copia x oc #papa emeritus iv fanart #Spotify

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enjoy-my-swearing · 2 months

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I know I am inactive lately. Life got in the way. Again. But I still do draw small things, like this one!

A gift for my beloved @the-lisechen who writes wonderful Copia x OC fanfic. If you haven't checked their writing out yet then what are you doing? I cannot advertise enough how good and unique it is!

It's got everything! Pining! Slow Burn! Ecumenical dialogue! Traces of corruption, temptation and being a little bit fucked up about eachother! Smart people arguing!

You can find it on ao3 here: you found the ache in my argument

#the band ghost #ghost #cardinal copia #papa emeritus iv #copia x oc #cardinal copia x oc #papa emeritus iv x oc #the band ghost fanfiction #my art #fic rec

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portaltothevoid · 5 months

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God Called In Sick Today — Chapters 1 & 2

Summary: It’s the ghafia fic you didn’t know you needed… When a mission goes south, Copia is left scrambling to figure out a plan to get the mayor-to-be in favor of the Emeritus family. That’s where Arianna Diodati, the Mafia Princess of his (very Catholic) rival, comes in. He plans to use her as a bargaining chip to get what he wants. Did he place the right bet or did he take more than he bargained for?

Word count: 5.8k ~//~ Warnings: mafia au, copia x oc, death/murder, gun usage, angst, physically and verbally abusive relationship, domestic violence (between oc x oc), (brief, almost subtle) dacryphilia, kidnapping, dark copia, cliffhanger, enemies to lovers, slow burn

A/N: Surprise! It's a double feature! Fair warning, the next chapters won’t be up til I have a few under my belt so that they can be posted regularly and since I’m still working on You’re Losing Me as well… it might be a while. But I am so so excited for this, that I had to give you all a taste! Massive, massive thank you to @fishwithtitz @da-rulah and @copias-juicebox for beta reading and listening to me talk about this non-stop as I worked out the plot 🖤(photos in mood board all found on pintrest and dividers by @gothdaddyissues!)

Chapter One -- The Sermon and The Plan

It was never a good sign when Papa Emeritus IV demanded a mandatory mass that wasn’t on Sunday. Usually, meetings such as this would be for the upper echelon of the clergy and the Ghouls, but this time around, every single member of the Satan’s Ministry was in attendance. No one dared speak or even look away from their Papa as he stood, eyeing everyone in the room like the disappointed father he was.

Those in the front row could hear his leather gloves squeak against the oak of the pulpit as he gripped it like a stress ball. His unique set of eyes, one green and one white, focused on one specific Ghoul. His expression darkened like an approaching storm, which made for his already intimidating skull-painted face to become menacing. As for the Ghoul, if it weren’t for the silver-horned mask covering his face, even Papa would have seen the beads of sweat dripping down the sides of it. He knew he was the reason everyone was here and why Papa looked beyond furious. He knew it the moment he saw the blue and red flashing lights at the docks.

“As most of you know,” the Satanic pope began, “our latest operation was thwarted by carelessness. All of you deserve to know why, but first, it isn’t a true Mass without a sermon, hm?”

He clasped his hands behind his back as he turned to walk to his right, addressing those in the pews in front of him. “Pride and greed. Two sins that often go hand in hand. Sins which we celebrate here. It seems I need to remind you all that the celebration of sin, any sin, does not give one a free pass to do whatever the fuck they want, eh?”

He turned again, to walk to the other side of the sanctuary. “Every coin has two sides. At what point does living in sin, celebrating sins, become a hindrance?

“Pride. An excessive belief in one’s abilities. Pride can make one think they are untouchable. Pride is the sin that pushes us to achieve greatness not just in the name of Satan, but for ourselves. And there, we find greed. A desire for wealth, for gain. But, again I ask you all, when does celebrating these glorious sins become a hindrance?”

Now, he was in front of the pulpit. Leaning against it was a cane, something he only brought out for show or to inflict pain. While he was addressing everyone, his dichromatic eyes landed on the trembling Ghoul in the center. “Excessive or grandiose sinning becomes a deterrent when it puts the lives of others at risk, when it puts an institution, a family, that you’ve devoted your life to at risk.” Grabbing the cobra head handle, Papa gracefully jumped down to walk in front of the first row. “Many of you are aware of a mission we set out on recently. A mission to save helpless women and children from a sex-trafficking ring. There also was to be an exchange of money. These degenerates were exchanging quite a large sum of money for this transaction. Those prisoners were denied the choice of freedom we offer here. We were denied what was to be used as payment to put the malleable Gregory Osorio in our corner. We have very little time to come up with this sum to get a powerful, up and coming politician in our corner. One who could turn votes in our favor. One who would look out for us. One who would defiantly oppose the Diodati dickheads.

“This mission was not successful. By the time our Ghouls arrived, the prisoners were ‘rescued’ by the police. The money – that should have been ours – confiscated. I know many have wondered how this could have happened. Well, children, the answer is simple.

“Pride… and greed…” he spoke slowly, as he walked down the center aisle, dragging his cane along the ends of the pews. “Someone felt too secure in themselves… Felt they could just… open their fucking mouth to anyone who would fucking listen… while not realizing… They were fraternizing with an informant for the enemy.” He paused his promenade. “This was not a simple mistake. This was blatant negligence from someone who I know, for a fact, knew better. This Ghoul broke our Sacramentum Secreti (Oath of Secrecy).” He began walking again. His cane hit a pew with every word. “Internal problems will be dealt with.”

He stopped. Everyone turned to look at Papa, except for one Ghoul. Papa reached over, using the tip of his cane to force him to look at his figurehead, his boss. With a look that could kill and a wave of his hand, he indicated the Ghoul to walk in front of him back up to the sanctuary.

After twenty paces, “Ghoul, you seem to be limping. I wonder why that is… Is it because your pain and suffering is a message from La Famiglia Diodati?” he remarked snidely.

When Papa planted himself behind the pulpit, he pointed the cane to indicate a spot on the ground. “Kneel,” he commanded. On shaky legs, the Ghoul did as he was told.

Papa dragged his gaze up to the choir loft before him, where one of his best Ghouls was waiting for the signal. Painstakingly slow, he looked back at the insurrectionist. “Per aspera, ad inferi,” he prayed. Again, he made eye contact with the one in the choir loft, giving a solitary nod.

In the blink of an eye, the Ghoul to Papa’s right jolted back slightly, a red dot forming in the center of his forehead. As deep burgundy liquid dripped from it, the congregation gasped, and the Ghoul toppled forward onto his masked face with a deafening thud.

Papa bowed his head, but his eyes passed over everyone clutching their rosary beads in front of him. Somehow, this look was more sinister than it was at the start. “Let it be known that internal problems will be dealt with,” he paused dramatically, “by whatever means necessary.”

And with that, he turned heel and left through the back door, concluding mass.

“Do we really need Osorio this time around? Putting our efforts into driving back the Diodatis would be more beneficial,” Secondo, the second oldest Emeritus, argued. The highest members of the clergy and of the Emeritus family were gathered in their meeting room reserved for familial “business” matters.

A leather clad fist slammed on the dark cherry wood table. “And what the fuck do you think getting Osorio on our payroll would do?” Papa snapped. Secondo just rolled his eyes in response. “We’re running out of fucking time.”

“There’s that charity gala, or whatever the fuck, tomorrow. I could just use my lascivious charm to reel in Osorio,” Papa’s predecessor and brother, Terzo, waggled his eyebrows suggestively. Papa pinched the bridge of his nose, leaning back in his luxurious leather office chair.

“Copia, he actually–and it pains me to admit this–might be onto something. That gala could be a way in,” the eldest Emeritus agreed as he pressed his elbows into the table, his fingers interlacing in front of him, as he stared down his youngest brother and the church’s current Papa.

Terzo waved his hand and his smirk deepened with Primo proving his idea had some merit.

“We have nothing to give Osorio! The whole point of that mission was to dangle that money in his face,” Copia countered.

“So instead we ask him his price,” Terzo shrugged nonchalantly.

“How many of Sal’s men will be there?”

“I believe just his right-hand, Alessio Fidanza and his fiancée and probably only a handful of his associates,” Primo relayed.

Copia’s eyebrows shot up at the mention of the fiancée. “Isn’t that Sal’s daughter? The prim and proper Mafia princess?”

“Sì.”

“For what it’s worth, my advice as your consigliere would be to attend this gala for recon purposes only. Yes, our time is running out, but we still have time to sway Osorio.” For the first time an older woman, who everyone called Sister Imperator, spoke up. She had been keenly observing Copia’s every move, just as any mother would her son, carefully watching knowing he was especially volatile right now.

“And Sal, what about him? He’ll be there too?” Copia asked, ignoring the woman beside him.

“As far as we know, yes.”

A wicked, devilish smile spread across Copia’s face, exaggerating the black paint reminiscent of a rat’s skull around his mouth.

“No… Copia, what are you thinking?” Sister Imperator asked hesitantly. She knew that look. They all did.

“Oh we’ll get some information. We will find out Osorio’s price and we will get Diodati’s attention.”

“Elaborate, brother,” Secondo said wearily. They knew Copia had just hatched a plan and from the look on his face, it was going to be far from easy.

“Diodati thinks he has the upper hand, sì? We can kill two birds with one stone. Show him who has the power here and get the money from him to pay off Osorio so those Catholic fucks can’t use God as a basis for politics.”

“And how exactly… would we do that? Are we intercepting one of their shipments or–” Sister Imperator began to ask hesitantly until she was cut off.

“It’s simple,” Copia stated. He leaned back in his chair casually this time, his elbows perched on the chair’s arm rests. He waved his hands in front him as if he was presenting a physical idea. “We kidnap la Principessa di Dio.”

Chapter Two -- You Should Be Scared

The last thing Arianna Diodati wanted to do was attend some pompous charity event chained to her fiancé wearing a designer dress she hated and a fake smile. She thanked God that she didn’t have to endure the after parties; she could retreat to solitude and her husband-to-be could do whatever (and most likely whomever) he wanted there. Not knowing what happened at those parties used to ruminate in her mind like a catchy pop song… until she actually found out.

The infidelity bothered her at first, caused her to lose sleep at night, and question her worth. She used to be confrontational. She used to stick up for herself. She used to care. Arianna learned the hard way that Alessio Fidanza never actually wanted her or truly loved her. Maybe at first he did, but as time marched on, she came to realize the only thing he cared about was having an in with the most illustrious mafia family in New York City. The closer he got to her, the closer he got to Arianna’s father aka the boss of the Diodati family, and the higher up in the ranks he rose, the less he paid her any attention – or respect. In less than a handful of years Alessio was promoted as Salvatore Diodati’s right hand man. He learned the ropes, got enough blood on his hands, and eventually helped call the shots. She was used to her father dictating her life, but now, finding herself under the thumb of another man? There were only two things she could do: watch her life pass her by from behind barred windows and pray to God someone would eventually notice (and care enough about) her imprisonment to save her.

Nevertheless, she admired herself in the mirror; for once, she wore a dress that made her feel confident. Her black cherry red curls cascaded around her face. For a moment, she could see a sparkle, or a glimmer of hope, returning in her hazel eyes as she noted how the asymmetrical dress framed her body perfectly. Satin jersey panels on the two thirds of the dress accentuated her curves as it snaked down the length of it. It draped up, slightly off one shoulder while the other was a simple strap clad with the subtle (yet signature) Versace Medusa emblem. That side of the dress was a simple satin. A slit allowed one of her toned legs to peek through adding an air of sexy sophistication to the look. She was almost smiling until she heard her fiancé behind her.

“You’re wearing that tonight?” And with that snide question, the sparkle in her eye dimmed once more, returning to their usual lackluster shine.

“Um, yes? I showed it to you, remember? You said it would be fine…” she said hesitantly, her voice dancing on eggshells, and her small smile fading.

Alessio scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Do you think I pay attention to half the stuff you show me? If I saw something like that, I would have remembered. Wear the other Versace dress. The one I had Roberta pick up for you.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “Specifically for tonight,” he added, his tone proving he had little patience for her tonight.

“But what’s wrong with this one? It’s not like it’s–”

He sprung at her, his nostrils flaring as he gripped her arms tighter than a blood pressure cuff. She fought back the tears that pricked in her eyes. “You look like one of Satan’s whores. Now,” he spoke through gritted teeth, “put on the other dress.” He shoved her back, her arms flew out to find purchase on the dresser beside her so she wouldn’t fall. The few perfume bottles that toppled over made an almost deafening sound amongst the tension. Her breathing was ragged as she glared at him. His look back at her served as a warning.

She never understood how someone who claimed to be so devoted to God could be so evil, but she had to trust God’s plan for her. This all had to serve a purpose, didn’t it?

Her eyes closed as she composed herself, doing her best to stuff down the ever-raging storm of anger that lately seemed to be constantly brewing inside her. “Yes, Alessio. It’s the one still in the garment bag?”

Slowly he rolled his head up to look at the ceiling, before bringing it back to glare at her. “Obviously, you dumb bitch. Hurry up and get fucking changed. I can’t afford to be late tonight because of you,” he spat as he walked out of their room.

Once more, she took a deep shuddering breath, her whole body trembling on the exhale. Stepping out of her preferred dress, she left the almost four thousand dollar garment lying crumpled on the floor.

Now as she looked at herself in the mirror again, she saw a stranger she didn’t even recognize despite the only thing that physically had changed was her dress. She noted how her eyes seemed more hollow. The color in her face had paled. There was nothing but a stranger who once had dreams and ambition staring back at her. None of this felt real.

The worst part of it all was that under any other circumstances, she would have loved wearing this. It was a black viscose material. A slim-fitting, hooded crêpe dress with a plunging V-neckline that was much more revealing than her own choice, but this one had long sleeves and went down to her mid-calf. There was a criss-cross belt also adorned with Versace’s Medusa logo, only this one was more prominent than the one on her choice of dress.

She let out a humorless laugh as she adjusted the long sleeves. All she wanted tonight was to feel confident, to show off some skin, because things had been relatively quiet as of late. Alessio was kept busy, his attention divided elsewhere. For the first time in a while, her arms didn’t look like an abstract painting.

If she had been the one to pick out this dress, her sentiments towards it would have been different. She didn’t want to hide, but this was what Alessio wanted her to wear. There was no way around that unless she wanted to pay the price. Letting out a heavy sigh, she put the hood up. This dress felt like the most high end and lavish prison jumpsuit. No one would know how much it felt like she was wearing shackles, a stark reminder that her choices were never own. But at least tonight she wouldn’t have to come up with a lie to explain the fresh bruises on her arms.

A single tear slid down her face, which she quickly wiped away. With a shake of her head, she put her emotions under lock and key, tucking it away into a dark corner of her mind. She practiced her million dollar smile and nodded to herself, putting her shoulders back and her chest out –a mirage of confidence and happiness– and made her way to the Bentley that was waiting for her.

No matter the formal event, the routine was almost always the same. Arianna would find her father, talk to and dance with who he (or Alessio) told her to, have two strong drinks (but no more than that or else she’d have to deal with a very irate Alessio), fake pleasantries with the other ladies who were just as much a prisoner to this life as she was, then once the crowd began thin, could she retreat. Tonight would be no different. At least, that's what she had assumed.

She greeted her father with a kiss on the cheek. “Arianna, there’s someone I’d like you to meet,” he father said, ushering over to a man that was just about six or seven years older than her. He looked just like everyone else here like he came from money and would stop at nothing to get more. “Greg, this is my daughter, Arianna. Arianna, this is Gregory Osorio, our soon to be Mayor.”

This Greg guy let out a low whistle as he looked Arianna up and down. “Sal, you weren’t kidding. She is absolutely stunning. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve heard so many things about you.”

“All good things, I hope,” she said with a smile that would never quite reach her eyes.

“Oh, absolutely! Your dress looks like it was made for you. Ah, how do you say it… You look… bellissima!”

“You’re too kind. Alessio convinced me to wear this tonight. I have to give all the credit to him,” she laughed, keeping up the ruse of niceties as Alessio dug his fingers into her side. It was his retaliation for the subtle jab she just made at him, even though these people would never ever know that it was.

“Fidanza, you are a lucky man!”

“I thank God everyday for her,” Alessio said, giving one more bruise-worthy squeeze on Arianna’s waist. He dropped his hand when everyone’s attention snapped towards the door. The group that had just arrived turned heads as they sauntered in.

“Who invited those Emeritus fucks?” Sal snapped.

“Copia put a call in himself to my office about a sizable donation for tonight. I figured if he's willing to be a top donor–perhaps even the top donor tonight–they might as well enjoy some of the festivities, no?” Osorio responded cautiously. “If you’ll excuse me, Sal…”

They exchanged nods as Gregory meandered through the crowd. Sal snapped his fingers. “I want eyes on them. They’re fucking up to something. Never once have they given a shit about things like this.”

“On it, boss,” one of his men said before he disappeared amongst the throng of people.

Arianna never liked the Emeritus family. In fact, she borderline hated them with their menacingly painted faces and blasphemous way of life. She never quite understood how they rose to rival that of her family. Perhaps they really did make a deal with the devil.

“I’m going to grab a drink,” she said quietly. Alessio just waved her off, her father already in a passionate discussion regarding something she couldn’t care less about.

She made her way to the bar, getting the attention of one of the bartenders. “Your usual, Ms. Diodati?”

“Yes, please,” she smiled.

It wasn’t long until she felt a pair of eyes on her from the other end of the bar. She looked up to see Copia, the ringleader of the Satanic circus, staring her down like a hunter watching its prey. It sent a shiver down her spine, but all he saw was the scowl that encapsulated her face. That only made him smirk at her.

She rolled her eyes in disgust, looking away from him. Out of the corner of her eye, though, when she knew his attention was back on someone that wasn’t her, she couldn’t help herself from taking in his appearance. She hated to admit, he looked… elegant. His burgundy pants were impossibly tight in all the right ways. It pained her to acknowledge the way they perfectly hugged his thighs. He had foregone his suit jacket, leaving just his matching burgundy vest and black dress shirt and tie. His sleeves were rolled up and she could see his muscles flex as he grabbed his drink.

Her eyes lingered for a few seconds too long. This time, he caught her watching him. His mouth curled up again into a sly half-smile as he took a drink. His dichromatic eyes never left her. The instant her drink hit the counter, she brought it to her lips and weaved her way through everyone back to Alessio in hopes of putting distance between her and whatever exchange had just taken place.

Shortly after she resumed her role as the token arm candy she was, did her father tense up when a leather clad hand slapped his shoulder. “Salvatore! Come stai (how are you)?”

“Copia,” he greeted stiffly. “To what do we owe this… surprise?” The words rolled off his tongue as if they made his skin crawl.

“Can’t a man just be willing to support a good cause such as this?”

Sal’s only response was to purse his lips. Copia was reveling in the fact that just his presence alone was getting under his enemy’s skin. “Say, Copia, did you hear about the girls that were rescued from trafficking by the docks the other day?” A condescending smirk now replaced the sour look on his face.

Copia’s eyes darkening was the only acknowledgement of Sal’s jab he let slip. “Ah, yes, thank the Gods below they’ve been transferred from one prison to another, being treated as criminals instead of victims.”

“Well, a whore contained is better than a whore on the street.”

Copia laughed sneeringly. “Ah, and I’m sure by whore, you mean a two-bit one. Tell me, though, what are the plans after this? Anyone escorting you to the after party?” he smirked as it was Sal’s turn for his expression to darken.

Arianna didn’t realize she was watching this with bated breath, or that she was clinging to Alessio until he shook her off him. Copia's eyes immediately darted to Arianna’s fiancé breaking free of her almost death grip to take a step towards him. “You know, since you’re here, a thanks is in order,” Alessio said cunningly. “Those girls couldn’t have been saved without the helpful information one of your soldiers let slide right off his tongue. I’ve gotta say, that was a lucky group of girls.”

“Life’s just a game of luck, isn’t it?” Sal chimed in with a shrewd smile directed at Copia.

“And I thank you as well, gentlemen, for helping me shed some dead weight.” The tenison grew thick as the flames of their rivalry were fanned with each remark. “But, a real man makes his own luck.” He casted a quick astute glance with an accompanying nod to Sal before he turned to directly face Arianna. “Perdonami,” he murmured gently, taking her hand and bringing it to his lips. “Arianna, e come stai stasera, principessa (and how are you tonight, princess)?”

Her heart thumped wildly against her sternum and her eyes flashed nervously over to Alessio. She knew somehow this man’s unprompted actions would be her fault. Both men noted immediately how her body stiffened. One was amused by her fear while the other felt a pang of pity. “Bene, grazie (good, thank you),” she piped up meekly.

“Would it be alright if I stole la bella donna (the beautiful woman) for just one dance?” he asked the two men beside him, only taking his eyes off Arianna for a mere second.

Giving Alessio a slap on the back, “She’s practically yours now, son. That’s your call to make,” her father laughed as he walked off towards the bar.

Arianna widened her eyes, begging Alessio to say no. Rolling his lips between his teeth as he pondered his decision quickly. He nodded, another sly smile curling the edges of his mouth. “One song wouldn’t hurt, eh? Careful though, she’s a pistol. Hope you can handle her. Lord knows some days I barely can.”

Copia laughed dryly. “I think someone of my stature knows how to handle one of those quite well,” he challenged, ushering Arianna away quickly.

Alessio reached out and grabbed her by the arm, just like he had earlier, turning her towards him. She inhaled sharply through gritted teeth at the pain as he had constricted her already tender bruises. “I’ll be waiting by the bar for you,” he hummed as his eyes flicked back and forth between Arianna and her new dance partner, before they lingered on her. She knew that look on his face. It was another warning. Without a sound, he let go of her, and followed the path of her father.

Copia’s arm snaked around her waist. He made it a point to do it gingerly, but that did nothing to calm her rattling nerves. “You’re trembling, cara,” he noted quietly, turning to face her, placing a hand on her hip on the same spot Alessio’s fingers left painful imprints. Her eyes fluttered shut when she involuntarily shied away from him. He eyed her curiously as he switched hands, placing one on her opposite hip and taking her hand in his other. She never quite understood the random ballroom dancing that happened at some of these parties.

“I’m not afraid of you.”

A sinister laugh quietly bubbled from him as he leaned to whisper in her ear, “You really should be.”

“And why’s that?” she challenged as they stepped in time together. Unsure of how, or why, but she could feel some of her old fire ignite inside her.

“Now, now, if I answered that it would ruin the surprise.”

She spoke in a way so her lips didn’t move, but Copia could understand her muffled words perfectly: “My father has eyes on you, you know.” This came off as more of a warning of caution than a threat.

“I’d expect nothing less from him. The real question is, does he have eyes on you?”

“I highly doubt it. I’ve proven to him I’ve learned from my rebellious ways,” she scoffed.

“Oh?”

“The consequences aren’t worth the… It serves no purpose anymore.”

After a few beats of silence, Copia asked, “Why do you let them treat you like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like they own you.”

For the first time since their dance began, she looked directly into his two-toned irises. Her breath hitched. She couldn’t remember the last time anyone, never mind a practical stranger, had even acknowledged her feelings or that she might have any at all. Her life wasn’t her own; it was already planned out. She could picture her life with Alessio as if she already lived. It’s mostly the reason she had become a shell, a carbon copy of herself. She felt like she was standing on the edge of a tall cliffside with no one to pull her back and no one who noticed, or even cared… So why was her father’s sworn enemy acting as if he did? And why in God’s name did it make her stomach flip and her heart flutter? “Because they do,” she finally managed to say through barely parted lips.

As the song ended, Copia regarded her with a smug, yet sympathetic look. He stepped towards her, pressing his body against hers, bringing his forehead down to hers. Standing there frozen, there was nothing she was able to do except stare into the most intriguing pair of eyes she’d ever seen. “Il mio agnellino (my little lamb)…” he purred. A devilish smile creeped onto his face. “I’ll see you soon.”

He abruptly left her standing there like a deer in headlights with her heart hammering in chest, and disappeared into the crowd. She sucked in a deep, ragged breath as she looked around checking to see if there were any witnesses to what just happened.

That man was evil. She knew this. He was ruthless. He worshiped the devil. He was the enemy.

And yet, what terrified her the most wasn’t his veiled threats, but her reaction to them. There was an allure to him, an air of mystique. Someone heard her faint cries for freedom… She shook it off and went to find Alessio, fearing what he would do if she waited any longer.

Arianna caught his eye as she walked up to him leaning against the bar, alone. He knocked back the remainder of his drink and forcefully grabbed her wrist, dragging her out to a deserted hallway. Not a single person batted an eyelash as they rushed past.

Once he assumed they were completely by themselves, he forced her up against the wall. Her back stinging in protest as the coolness of the concrete seeped into her skin. Unbeknownst to the nowhere-near-happy couple, Copia and his ghouls were waiting in a nearby room. Every part of his plan was falling in place like dominos.

“Alessio wh–” Arianna started to question, but was cut off by Alessio slamming his fist on the wall right next to her head.

While he now had her caged in, he pointed a finger in her face. “What the fuck was that about? You fucking wanted to dance with that vermin?”

She stared at him in horror. Even though she knew he would pull this card, it never made it easier any time it happened. “What are you talking about?! Did you miss the look I gave you? I wanted nothing to do with him! I wanted you to say the ‘no’ that I couldn’t!”

“You wanted–” he scoffed. “You wanted me to say no? Since when do I make your decisions for you?”

“Only every fucking day of my life!” she spat back at him, seething. Though he embodies sin and everything unholy, when Copia switched the hands on her hips, when he noted her fear… Those actions, so subtle, spoke volumes. She was reminded of what it means when a person has compassion, empathy, and even a trace of humanity inside them. If she ever experienced that with Alessio it had long be wiped from her memory, overridden by every terrible thing he had done to her and put her through.

The rage that erupted from him, the hatred that bled from his eyes, haunted her nightmares. Instantly after the words left her mouth, her whole body tensed. When the blow from his hand landed across her face, she didn’t even have time to react before he gripped her arms again, somehow even harder than the two previous times.

“You think you can just go dance with another man without looking like one of the devil’s whores? Maybe I should have let you wear that dress, since here you are, being one instead of just looking like one.” He shook her as he berated her.

“Alessio, please, you’re hurting me,” she whimpered, tears streaming down her face as her fiancé screamed at her. His voice drowned out from the thumping music and the raucous party-goers in the other room.

“You little fucking cunt, if it wasn’t for your father I would have left your pathetic ass years ago,” he snarled through his teeth just before he tossed her to the ground like a rag doll. “Get the fuck home. I don’t want to deal with this right now. And you better think of a good way to make this up to me…” he warned before he cracked his neck, fixed his shirt cuffs, and sauntered back into the party.

Quietly, she sobbed into the tile floor. Her body was alight in a flame of pain. “Please, God. Please help me. I can’t… I just can’t…”

A hand gently touched her shoulder. She recoiled, flinching, and pressed herself into the wall behind her.

“Oh, Principessa,” Copia tutted. He crouched down in front of her and used his thumb to wipe away her tears. She watched as he brought his hand closer to inspect how they glistened on his leather glove. His eyes bored into hers as he brought his thumb to his mouth, nearly sensually cleaning off her agonized tears with his tongue. Fear coursed through her harder than the adrenaline did when she spoke back to Alessio. “I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this, but it seems that God called in sick today,” he leaned in closer, hovering over her forebodingly, “and he sent me to handle your prayers,” he cooed disparagingly.

He stepped back from her, offering to help her up. She stared at his hand, her eyes wide with panic. When he waved it to snap her out of her trance, she scrambled to her feet. Automatically fearing supposed repercussions.

“How much… how much of that did you hear?” she whispered.

“All of it.” With a snap of his fingers two ghouls appeared, seemingly out of nowhere from Arianna’s perspective, and grabbed her arms. Their grip firm, but it wasn’t lost on her how they somehow managed to avoid touching where Alessio had hurt her.

“Wh-what are you doing? Let me go. Let go of me!” she cried out, feebly attempting to wriggle from the ghouls’ grasps.

Copia stepped forward, taking her face in his hands. His thumbs stroked her cheeks. With his face inches from hers, that diabolical smile reappeared. “I’m sorry about that too, but I can’t allow that. You see, il mio agnellino, you won’t be going home tonight.” He snaked his hands down from her face and along her neck before he leaned in so close to her, his breath tickled her ear. The way his lips moved against her skin sent shivers down her spine. “I told you. You should be scared of me.”

As he backed away from her, a third ghoul put a cloth over her mouth. Her screams were muffled as she tried to thrash and escape from her captors. Soon, her movements slowed and her vision blurred. The last thing she remembered seeing was that haunting pair of eyes, one green and one white, watching her with a smirk that rivaled that of the devil’s, before something covered her head and plunged her into darkness as her body went limp.

Next Chapter || taglist: @gorie-talks-a-lot @haelithra @love-is-all-you-need-13 @lydzlore @megachaoticstupid @onlyhereforghost @state-of-longing @werich @whenparadiseislost

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