onedaughterofman

[onedaughterofman]

The words will come back. You are a writer! You are and you will always be

Thank you friend! ❤️

My brain is not cooperating but who knows, maybe one day!

[onedaughterofman]

I don’t know how I used to be able to write stuff. Now I can’t even string two sentences together. Satan help.

[onedaughterofman]

do I want to know what happens in the Rite Here Rite Now???

[onedaughterofman]

You can always drop by and say hello in my inbox, tho I might not respond ‘cause working 14 hours a day is killing me 🥰

but it’s nice reading your messages

ghost fandom suddenly found my blog again so hi everyone new, hope you enjoy whatever I wrote while I was possessed by the Big Boss of Hell.

[onedaughterofman]

ghost fandom suddenly found my blog again so hi everyone new, hope you enjoy whatever I wrote while I was possessed by the Big Boss of Hell.

[onedaughterofman]

As above (no tits) so below (no ass)

[onedaughterofman]

I think Moto Moto likes you 🌚

[onedaughterofman]

Uni is low-key fun but exhausting, luckily ya boi got lucky and did this for an assignment 😌✨

[onedaughterofman]

hello friend!! I’ve still been reading your stories even while you’ve been away. They are always so wonderful! ❤️

hi! I’m so happy to hear that! It’s nice knowing that even if I’m gone, the fics are still well loved

sending hugs and love to you ghestie

[onedaughterofman]

Something different for today 💜

Or POV you forgot to knock before entering his dressing room

Terzo nation where you at-

[onedaughterofman]

“Little mouse” Copia x G/N reader

Summary: Copia calls you his little mouse, and it knocks the air out of your lungs.

Tags: Dark Copia, light horror maybe? I wrote this in one sitting after working for 13 hours so don’t look at this too closely.

A/N: By the power of the Unholy One, behold my return from the land of the damned.

He calls you “his little mouse”.

It’s endearing. You can’t help but to swoon when he smiles warmly at you, a gloved hand stretched out in your direction.

“Come here, my little mouse,” Copia says, and the warmth spreads all over your chest and stomach. The Italian accent is thick, but the air inside your lungs is even thicker.

When Copia calls you his little mouse, you feel like a teen experiencing their first love, their initial crush. Copia’s eyes are dark, but his gaze is tender and the leather of his gloves is warm, so you obey and let yourself fall into his embrace.

Between his arms, the air is knocked out of your body. There’s no oxygen in your blood, only the intoxicating love you feel for him, only the romance and lust pumping out of your heart.

“Will you join me this evening, my little mouse?” Copia asks when the sun sets, and only the golden glow of a few old lamps falls on his face. The shadows are deep, but deeper is the rumbling of your throbbing heart. “Will you come with me, stay with me forever?”

You say yes, breathless, almost speechless. Copia continues placing tender kisses on your neck, on the back of your palm. His fingers trace patterns over your clothes, hold onto you with the tenderness of a man madly in love.

Maybe you’re madly in love, too.

That’s why you follow him through the maze of corridors, deeper and deeper under the Ministry’s chapel. It’s a secret place, Copia said, a sheltered room away from everyone, from everything. You know the Ministry is full of mysteries, of hidden truths and now you wonder if Copia is going to reveal some of them to you.

It doesn’t matter, in the end. For as long as he holds onto you, as long as he kisses your lips with passion, you’ll follow him forever.

At the end of the hallway, behind a heavy wooden door, there’s a studio. It’s not a bedroom, like you had been hoping. There’s not even a bed.

No. Blinded by the darkness, your eyes struggled to recognise the shapes that lay in front of you. And when your pupils manage to focus on anything, the air freezes inside your throat. 

There are mouses everywhere. Immobile, lifeless eyes stare in your direction. There must be dozens of corpses, well preserved in jars or embalmed, displayed on the walls.

“I always loved mouses,” Copia says behind your back, and the weight of his hand is oppressive on your shoulder. “When I was a teen, the Ministry’s playground was full of them. An infestation, they said. A bad one.”

In the silence of the room, the beating of your heart sounds like drums. Copia gently pushes you forward, and your feet obey without resistance. 

“I used to play with them all the time. I would grab them by their tails, hold them under the water fountain and watch them wiggle and struggle.”

This time, a sigh escapes the confines of your lips. “You used to drown them?” You whisper, not daring to look back at him. From the corner of your eyes, you notice there’s a smile on his face.

“At the beginning, yes. I was inexperienced, didn’t know when to stop. Then I got wiser,” Copia states, leaning closer. “But you see, little mouses are so fragile, so ephemeral. They are incredibly cute, but they don’t last much. Sooner or later, they go away. I don’t like it when things leave me. Specially things I love.”

One step back is all you manage before your back collides with his chest. Copia’s hand is heavy, so heavy on you. His grip is unforgiving, impossible to get rid of, but it’s still weaker than the fear that clings to your ankles, slowly climbing up your legs.

“But don’t worry,” he continues, and his smile offers no comfort. “Years ago I found a solution to that. Now they are with me forever. Their beauty doesn’t fade.”

The dozen of small, lifeless black orbs burn on your skin. You swallow once, then twice, but nothing undoes the knot in your throat.

“Get comfortable,” Copia whispers into your ear, both hands pushing down on your shoulders as he guides you to an old, wooden chair. The stares grow heavier, colder. “This is going to be a long night. But I’ll be with you now and forever. You’re my favourite little mouse, after all.”

A/N: based on a guy I kind hooked up with

[onedaughterofman]

btw I’m truly sorry if I don’t reply/accidentally ghosted any of you! It’s been a hard few months and I barely spoke to my friends and family because I was in a bad place mentally. I’m hoping things will slowly get better after the summer ends

do you think you’ll write again for this fandom? miss you 💔

it’s past midnight but I have some time so I’ll reply to this!

Honestly it’s been months since the last time I wrote something so I’m not even sure if I still have it in me. I’d love to give more to the Ghost fandom because it’s full of wonderful and talented people, and it’s really fun, but I don’t think I will anytime soon.

this is my moment to go softly into the night as a writer haha. Besides, interactions on tumblr have always been hard to get, but I feel it has gotten even harder after all these months of being inactive. I rarely get reblogs/comments or stuff like that anymore 😅 I miss those, they were really my main motivation.

thank you for reaching out! I miss everyone here too 💜

[onedaughterofman]

do you think you’ll write again for this fandom? miss you 💔

it’s past midnight but I have some time so I’ll reply to this!

Honestly it’s been months since the last time I wrote something so I’m not even sure if I still have it in me. I’d love to give more to the Ghost fandom because it’s full of wonderful and talented people, and it’s really fun, but I don’t think I will anytime soon.

this is my moment to go softly into the night as a writer haha. Besides, interactions on tumblr have always been hard to get, but I feel it has gotten even harder after all these months of being inactive. I rarely get reblogs/comments or stuff like that anymore 😅 I miss those, they were really my main motivation.

thank you for reaching out! I miss everyone here too 💜

[onedaughterofman]

The life of Papa sure is a stressful one 🚬

Someone needs to put me down this is getting out of hand-

[onedaughterofman]

Heeheheee secondooo

[My Socials] | [Prints]

[onedaughterofman]

Been thinking about reading this again when I have some time but what if I hate it tho (probably not because this is my baby, my masterpiece)

I probably have to edit it someday, after summer ends. Can’t believe how many hours of investigation I put into this one, friends

You, forever (Papa Emeritus IV x g/n reader)

Chapter I: Life eternal

Summary: The Clergy takes something from Copia, but he refuses to let go.

Tags: Rated T, Angst, a bit of horror I guess, emotional hurt. Implied character death, mentions of blood and murder. Copia is being obsessive, paranoid, and kind of losing his mind here. He's also unhinged.

Around 1.7K words.

A gentle hum resonates on the walls, rumbling harmoniously around the room. It’s such a cold, silent night and the wind howls outside the windows. The faint whistle is barely discernible through the glass and concrete, disappearing somewhere in the room before fully reaching your ears.

In the darkness, only illuminated by the flames of black candles, Copia’s finger traces your face. From up your brows to the curve of your nose, around the soft cheeks and down to the lips, his fingertip grazes your skin with care and devotion. He doesn’t need to look at you to recognize those factions he, by now, knows by memory.

His dark, blown pupils are lost somewhere on the wall, faint candle light reflecting on his eyes. Even when he’s deep in his mind, the embrace doesn’t falter. His arms are tight around your body, cradling you in his lap.

Oh, how much he loves to hold you close, to smell the perfume of your hair and bear the weight of your flesh on his. He’s lucky, so fortunate to have you by his side on the bed.

Gradually, the humming catches up in a melody. It’s something he used to sing, a long time ago, in front of hundreds if not thousands of people. Still, now it feels like this melody was written for the two of you, meant to be heard by lovers only.

And Copia, Copia loves you so much. It hurts. The love he experiences towards you impales him in the heart, filling his lungs with thick dread. It shouldn’t be like this. He knows it, but he’s afraid. So, so afraid. You’re his love, his one and only person in this harsh world, his light in the darkness and the fire in his guts.

Without you, he’s lost.

Without you, he’s nothing but that pathetic Cardinal no one but Imperator trusted on.

Finding you gave him courage, confidence and power. And now, Copia is not used to things going his way, no matter how hard he works. He’s inevitably a second option, nothing but a poorly made copy of the original. He doesn’t deserve such niceness in his life.

Consequently, he knows sooner or later someone will try to take you away from him. Arms tightening on your body, his humming halts only for a moment. He won’t allow it. Nothing will take you apart. No one will separate both of you. It doesn’t matter if the Clergy is planning something, or if everybody seems to be whispering behind his back, scheming, plotting.

Nothing matters, for as long as he secures you by his side.

Bare fingers tracing down your neck, Copia leans down to place a chaste kiss on your cheek. His warm breath tickles over your skin, just like his lashes do when he closes his eyes and presses his cheek on yours. His fingers curl on your neck, nails leaving red marks behind.

Oh, how bewitched he is by your beauty and kindness. No one had ever treated him like you did, no one had ever looked into his eyes with as much warmth as you did. Logically, a part of him whispers that everything must come to an end. Something inside his mind recognizes the moment of letting go will come, inevitably. Still, he’s sure he’ll call your name forever, hoping to evoke the memory of your voice in a reply.

In the darkness, through misery and contempt, he’ll search for you in every person, around the corners, yearning for you, praying for you. Not even death will take you apart.

Not even Hell.

Realizing he’s squeezing too tightly, his arms almost fall limp to his side. Rushed apologies escape his lips as your body plows on his lap, rigid. Copia quickly collects it, holding you closer, propping your head on his chest. Your hair tickles at his neck when he leans closer, shushing in your ear in an attempt to soothe you.

“You know,” he whispers. There’s certain playfulness behind his tone, but also some deep urgency. It’s like he’s disclosing an embarrassing secret, something only the two of you should know. “One time, you asked me if there was someone occupying a place in my heart.”

In the deep silence, the creak of the bed is loud as he slowly rocks his body, swaying yours with him. The movement offers some comfort, expands a faint warmth on his tired limbs. He doesn’t know when was the last time he laid down to sleep or closed his eyes for more than a few minutes. He has to be alert, to protect you.

People are plotting.

"I was young, dumb and didn't understand what you meant by that question. I couldn't even believe someone like you was talking to me, so I never answered." Copia’s pupils barely leave the wall when he continues, fingers absentmindedly tracing shapes over your abdomen and hips.“Truth is, before you I have been in love with no one, and I never shall. Unless it is with you.”

The tolling of the bells marks the time. It’s late, so late at night, but he has to stay awake a bit longer. The light of a new day won’t bring real safety, but it will represent another small victory. He has to survive this night and the others to come, for as long as you stay by his side.

When his shaky hands grip on your waist with too much strength, he apologizes again. This is not okay. He has to be strong, to keep himself calm. Copia doesn’t want to frighten you, to cause you to think he’ll let anybody harm you.

You have to know you’re safe in his arms. "Amore, don't worry.” He says, but there’s an undeniable trembling in his words. “I’ll take care of you. Since the first time we were together, I knew you and I are one. Love me or hate me for eternity, it's okay, but don't leave me. Never. Stay forever with me."

The mere idea of you walking away from him scares Copia to death. He’s been through it too many times. Since birth, nothing really has belonged to him. He was only another orphan, cared for by the Clergy, another face in the multitude. It never mattered if he was the best at his classes, or if he learnt how to perfect old rituals, he was always extremely awkward, too odd and useless.

Since the beginning, he was an outsider. Nice things don’t belong to outsiders, they belong to people like Nihil or Terzo, to people who were born for it. People like Terzo never had to prove themselves to be worthy of fame, power and love.

Him, on the contrary, had to fight. Aching heart and soul, going further than any other Papa before, he fought. Yet, it was never enough. Holding you close, Copia wonders if you endure a similar pain, if something inside you hurts and rumbles with dread.

If your heart is wounded, then his is bleeding profusely along with yours. He’ll offer you the world to make up for it.

Swaying your body, Copia places another gentle kiss on your head. His hand grabs your face, fingertips caressing over the cheekbone. Gradually, he places you back in the bed, setting you under the covers before standing up. The sun is coming up from behind the horizon, crimson rays serving as the omen of another bright day.

Today, he has to discuss details of the oncoming tours with Mr. Saltarian. Sadly, he’ll have to leave you alone for a moment or two. Leaning down to kiss the back of your hand, Copia walks the distance that separates him from the door and disappears outside of the room.

It’s almost noon when Imperator notices the dirt stains in Copia’s clothes. Following the trail of mud through the halls, she finds herself in front of that old, heavy wood door of the main quarters . Her hands tremble before reaching for the knob, turning it in slow motion.

The clicking of her heels on the marble floor is overly loud in her ears, but not as much as the wild beating of her heart when she finds you in the bed, dead eyes staring right at her soul.

The realization strikes her like a bus, like a bucket of freezing water being poured right on her exposed skin. She should have ordered to bury your body farther away. It seems the ghouls did a terrible job at keeping the location of your grave a secret.

It doesn’t matter how much she swallows, nothing loosens the knot in her throat. It’s challenging to breathe inside the room, and she rushes outside, chest heaving and back pressing on the cold concrete walls of the Ministry in a futile attempt to calm down.

This is not how it was supposed to go. With you dead and gone, Copia should be focusing on the Ghost project and the church. He should be investing his time and energy in honoring the Devil, not for the sake of the Clergy, but for himself.

If he doesn’t, he’s going to get killed and she can’t allow that to happen.

Taking you out of the equation was a logical thing to do. It was either you or him, and Imperator couldn’t let go of her little C.

“Sister?” the voice exalts her. There, standing in the hall, is him. Hair disheveled and eyes too wide on his face, he doesn't look like that poor Cardinal that stepped inside the Ministry all those years ago.“Is everything alright?”

Under the yellowish light of the building, the new stains on his cheeks, neck and clothes look almost black, like old coagulated blood. The scent of iron hits her nose, filling her mouth with an acidic taste. Standing upright, Imperator nods. Copia smiles, but the emotion never reaches his pupils.

“Let’s go, then. My dear is asleep and doesn’t want to be disturbed.”

On slow, shaky steps, Imperator follows. The smell of fresh blood worsens as she walks his way, clutching her hands near her body like in a prayer. She's in the presence of something unholy, profane... wicked.

Long time ago, a prophecy foretold the birth of the Antichrist, as a gift from Satan to a woman devoted to him. Now, standing right in front of Copia, Imperator thinks that maybe those weren’t just old, stupid tales to tell in the dark.

Her actions have awoken him. What an honor. How happy she is, and all, thanks to you.

PART II HERE

PD: Listen, Idk what to tell you about this. I wanted to write it for Halloween as some sort of horror special, but life got in the way. I don't know if I love or hate this fic.

I love babygirl Copia, but Totally Unhinged Batshit Crazy Papa Emeritus IV called to me in the middle of the night and held me against a wall until I agreed on writing this.

I listened to Life Eternal, Darkness at the Heart of my Love and Respite on the Spitalfields A LOT. Also, some quotes are inspired by the book Carmilla, written by Sheridan Le Fanu.

Asks are open if you want to say something <3

[onedaughterofman]

Every writer on Tumblr: “I would combust out of love if someone ever drew fanart of my fic!!” Me: “oh man I wanna draw this scene BUT THEY WOULD PROBABLY HATE IT AND HATE ME FOR THE NERVE”