#awkward cardinal copia
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@copias-juicebox and I are DYING as we talk about Copia's possible job responsibilities as Cardinal and the inevitable fuck ups that happen...
The first day on the job, Cardinal Copia reads his job responsibilities and duties, and unbeknownst to him, there is a typo.
He is supposed to be counseling the Satanic Pope, but autocorrect has changed it to the Satanic poor.
Outreach seems logical, so he readies himself and gets to work.
So here he sits, cold calling members of the ministry to find out which ones are struggling to make ends meet. His nerves keep him from the logical option of offering the ministry's resources for those in need of emergency help, and instead he tries his hardest to offer solid advice but comes up short.
"Si, si, I know it is hard." *laughs awkwardly*
*strokes mustache thoughtfully* "Have you eh- tried to make more money?"
*rings gloved hands together as he cradles the phone between his shoulder and ear* "Maybe a job would help? They pay, you see..."
"Oh, heh, I am not sure what Feet Finder is, but I don't think it sounds as, uh, lucrative as you think-"
It isn't until Sister Imperator walks in (interrupting his current call) and hands him the corrected responsibilities list that he realizes his mistake and the color drains from his face as he rushes to hang up the phone.
"Mi dispiace, I must cut our conversation short. Eh, ta ta!"
He looks at the the rat spinning in his exercise wheel in the cage to his right and points a knowing finger.
"Do not tell anyone about this or you will lose your cheese privileges for a month."
(gif credits go to the talented and hot @copias-juicebox because she is an amazing bby that deserves all the copias she wants🖤)
#copia#cardinal copia#headcanons#awkward cardinal copia#first day on the job#the band ghost#ghost bc#ghost band#ghost fandom#crack thoughts#as a poorly paid teacher i feel this in my bones#cannot stop laughing#it actually did autocorrect from pope to poor in our convo
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the goobers just smacked lips!!! will they hit it off? or it will be just a casual fling?
#my art#digital art#copia#cardinal copia#dew#dewdrop ghoul#copia x dew#copia/dewdrop#these two are so funny to me. like i get completely diff vibes from them versus terzomega#you have copia who's awkward af but he means well. (sometimes.)#and then dewdrop whos the definition of lil shit. up to no good.#will hook up with anyone if he wants to#copia wanted to know how kissing a ghoul would be like#dew wanted to see how human lips tasted. he was disappointed.
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a message from the bulletin board | cardinal copia x gn!reader
summary: the ministry’s bulletin board, ordinarily used for missing items or party announcements, contains a particularly interesting request this week – a lonely hearts ad.
content: 9k words, gn!reader, slightly suggestive at times, first date/first kiss shenanigans, sad lonely awkward cardinal fluff, you know the drill
Masterlist – Ao3 link
You ignore the knot of people in front of the bulletin board.
As much as the whispers and giggles garner your attention, someone else attracts it even more. Cardinal Copia, red cassock, red biretta, arms filled with two boxes worth of files and papers, is trying to push the door to his office open with his hip under a swell of Italian curses. Certainly, his hip swing is impressive on most days, especially on stage, but today it seems more like a helpless, uncoordinated bumping that the door is fighting with every ounce of its wooden strength.
Evidently, he’s struggling.
“Good morning, Cardinal, do you need a hand?”
His eyebrows shoot up when he hears your voice and he stops dead in his tracks, slowly turning his head until he catches you standing right behind him. Despite your announcement, he visibly startles, nearly dropping the boxes in his arms.
“Oh, eh… yes, if you could open the door for me, Sibling?”
“Of course.”
With your hand on the knob, you watch as he hurries inside of his office, wheezing under the weight and dropping the boxes onto his desk with a dull thud that echoes loudly in his mostly bare working space. Apart from books upon books strewn across and around his desk as well as an old weathered couch, there hasn’t been any love put into decorating the space. You wait patiently for him to turn back around to you, a hint of red dusting his cheeks when he finally does.
“Thank you,” he squeezes out, trying very hard to swallow his heavy exhales. “I carried them here all the way from the archives. Long way, you know, even for my…” He holds up his arm, flexing it exaggeratedly. “My strong, powerful muscles.”
You giggle and he perks up in delight, eyes wide and shiny. “No problem, Cardinal, I can imagine they’re very heavy.”
You smile at him and he smiles back, so sweetly, and you’re momentarily at an equal loss for words. A bead of sweat rolls down his forehead, down the prominent bridge of his nose. He brushes it away with a leather-gloved hand and you can’t help but stare as he wipes it clean on the heavy fabric of his vestments, shaking out his fingers once he’s done. You can’t look away as they flex and release, flex and release. They’re surprisingly long and so… nimble.
Copia’s violent cough startles you awake and you’re not sure if it’s his own nerves that make him clear his throat, if his overexerted lungs are protesting or if he caught you staring. Either way, you feel your own cheeks getting hot now, the moment of hesitant silence slowly transitioning into a gooey sort of awkwardness.
“So, ugh… I better get back to my own duties,” you say. “Lots to do, spring cleaning and all that.”
He nods. “Yes, yes, you are busy, of course. Such a busy little bee. Bzz bzz. Hehe.”
You awkwardly giggle back, trying hard to think of a clever joke. Maybe something that has to do with stinging? But before you can settle on one, the time for a witty come-back has stretched thin and so you just awkwardly wave at him, mutter a “see you later” and close the door.
With your back pressed to the wood, you let out a deep exhale, the butterflies – or bees – in your stomach making it very hard to breathe at a normal pace. Once you’ve recollected your wits, you notice that the hallway is still as busy as before, maybe even busier.
Like lions gathering around an animal carcass after days of starvation, what feels like half the abbey has been flocking to the big rectangular corkboard. You cannot possibly imagine what would warrant such intense interest. The most exciting messages on any given day are unusual sex requests, the invitation to a weirdly themed party or a call for applications to a particularly intricate sex ritual to honour the Dark One.
You push through the crowd to check what’s causing the repeated giggling and excited whispers amongst your peers when you spot a pristine piece of paper on the board. It’s thick, stark-white, shaped like a heart at the top and with pieces to rip off at the bottom that contain a phone number. You squint, move in even closer until you can make out the text – hand-written and in cursive.
I (m, 50) am looking for a partner to spend the rest of my life with. I don’t have any preferences but it would be coolio if we had similar interests, so we can have some fun together.
I like: watching movies, playing video games, going on walks, rigatoni, juice, small animals
I don’t like: coconut flavour, being barefoot, swimming, touching wet dishes, bullies, dentist appointments
If you think we are a good match I would like to take you on a romantic date. Please call or text me. Bye bye!
You smile at the note but quickly find back down to earth when someone rams their elbow into your side. No one has taken one of the numbers yet, so you assume the excitement is more about the fact that there is a lonely hearts ad on the bulletin board at all than any actual interest in the person. You have to admit, it is a bit odd. Most younger clergy members just use dating apps these days or social media. But the lonely heart in question is fifty, so they may not be familiar with modern methods, and it’s oddly endearing that anyone would go through the trouble of creating such an ad. At the same time, it breaks your heart that someone in the abbey is so lonely that they risk the ridicule of half of the clergy members just to have a chance at finding love.
“Well, there are a bunch of people who it could be,” you overhear someone say. “Maybe one of the older Brothers, a bunch of them are single. Could also be that new bishop who just arrived, I heard he’s a cinephile and walks around the gardens quite often.”
You ignore the whispers of speculation, making your way back through the crowd to return to your duties. It’s almost dinner time by now and you need to get two more loads of laundry done before then. But even as you sort through piles of habits, cassocks and veils… you can’t stop thinking about the ad. You sincerely hope the person receives a few serious and not just prank calls. The note did sound endearing and you definitely see similarities. At the same time you’re far too busy nursing your hopeless crush on the Cardinal to actually entertain the thought of dating someone else.
You decide to check on the ad again tomorrow, see if anyone took a number, and if not, you could at least save it to your phone… just in case.
✦ ✧ ✦
Two birds land on his window sill, rubbing their beaks together in a kiss before happily chirping at each other. They’re in love, literal love birds, building a nest on the little protrusion in the wall right below his window. He’s been watching them occasionally, unreasonably envious, as they bring in twig after twig, ready to start their family. From the same window, Copia can make out the spring-filled gardens with their colourful patches of pink and red tulips, bumblebees hurrying from blossom to blossom, drunk on pollen and greedy for more. He can overlook the bright green meadow leading down to the pond, speckled with lush, budding trees. At this time of the day, after everyone finished their daily duties, the grass has almost completely disappeared under a plethora of picnic blankets.
Spring fever, he assumes, has to be the reason why everyone seems to be in love. Couples dozing in each other’s arms in the shade of the trees, feeding their lovers berries or grapes, taking a stroll down to the pond with their joined hands dangling between them, kissing without pause in the archways of the cool stone walkways leading outside. Just now he spots two Sisters rubbing sunscreen on each other’s bare shoulders, one of them kissing the other's head before they fall back onto their blanket, giggling happily at each other.
He feels so incredibly lonely.
This has been going on for weeks now and he’s tired of feeling so shamefully worthless of affection. Instead of the arms of his lover, he sinks into his tattered old desk chair and drowns his sorrows in boring paperwork. Not that that’s going well, but for lack of alternatives, he’d rather do budget calculations than sit in his quarters all alone. Every evening, the spring breeze carries the sound of happy laughter through his windows, usually while he’s playing video games all by himself, but he can’t keep them closed if he doesn’t want to sweat to death. Besides… that same gentle breeze is the only thing caressing his skin as he tries to fall asleep at night and if he closes his eyes, the wind almost feels like fingertips ghosting over his arms.
As he leaves his office that night, he receives another heavy but sadly much expected blow. Almost a week now and still no one has taken one of the numbers from his lonely hearts ad. Of course it doesn’t mean no one saved it to his phone, he tells himself, people are shy or they just don’t want to date an anonymous person. It has nothing to do with him, they don’t even know it’s him. And yet… if his dating streak continues so poorly, he’s not sure if he can stay sane for much longer. There are only so many tears you can cry in bed at night before it starts to take a toll on you.
His heart is especially heavy as he makes his way to his lonely quarters. One more day and then he’s taking it down, he decides. No use in waiting any longer now that surely everyone in the abbey has seen his request and the last thing he wants are pity calls.
✦ ✧ ✦
“So, are you going to call the Cardinal?”
You look up from your breakfast plate. Your friend Lily is sitting opposite of you, chewing on a blueberry muffin, and you narrow your eyes at her. “The Cardinal?”
“The number in the lonely hearts ad,” she says. “It’s still there, I checked earlier.”
“It’s the Cardinal?”
She nods, popping another piece of muffin into her mouth. “Duh.”
You feel your cheeks heating up and set your fork down to hide the sudden tremor in your fingers. “Which Cardinal?”
She gives a soft groan of annoyance. “Babe, there is only one of the Cardinals who would ever hang up such a goofy thing. Now, will you call him?”
Copia. She knows about your… slight infatuation with him. And despite being kind and not teasing you too much, it was just a matter of time until the occasion popped up. If he is looking for a serious partner… maybe it’s too late for you soon. The ad has been up for days and while you’ve been toying with the idea of calling, you just haven’t found the courage yet.
You continue eating, trying to act casual, but it takes you three attempts to pick up a stray piece of cucumber from your plate. “How do you even know it’s his number?”
Lily takes a deep breath, setting the muffin down to ready herself. “Sooo, Michael wanted to call the number to check who it is, right? Well, turns out his girlfriend already knew it’s the Cardinal’s number and his girlfriend is Sister Jill who knows it from Sister Mary who is roommates with Sibling Jessie who works with the treasury and their colleague Brother Paul works as the Cardinal’s assistant two times a week and that’s how he has the Cardinal’s number for emergencies.”
“Oh.”
“Yes, oh. Now, will you?”
Eyes on your empty plate, you bite your lip until you can taste blood. It’s Copia’s number, the number of your crush of about six months now, and he’s looking for a partner, unspecified. That’s… big news, intimidating news, news that calls to an action you’re not sure you’re prepared for.
Glancing at Lily, you catch her smirking at you and promptly give her a scowl. “I don’t know. What if he already got better options?”
She cocks her head to the side. “Better than you? I doubt it.”
“You’re biased because you’re my friend.”
A shrug. “You should try. What’s the worst that can happen?”
“He could be disappointed.”
“He’s more disappointed if no one calls,” she counters.
“Yeah but–”
You stop yourself when you see Nora, Lily’s girlfriend, approaching the table. Her arms wrap around Lily from behind as she presses a loud, lingering kiss to her cheek, both of them giggling.
“You scared me,” Lily says, turning around for a proper kiss.
“Sorry, love, but I can’t leave breakfast without my sweet treat.”
You avert your gaze, involuntarily feeling like an intruder. They’ve been together for a few weeks now, sickeningly adorable. Lily had been pining after Nora for months, a little bit like you with the Cardinal, only that she eventually found the courage to ask her out. To see her bravery being rewarded like that makes you incredibly happy for both of them. But at the same time… you have rarely ever felt your loneliness so sharply, the heaviness of your unreciprocated crush such a weight on your shoulders.
You know that if you want this to be you and the Cardinal, then there’s only one real answer to her question: You have to reach out to him.
✦ ✧ ✦
He’s ready to toss this day into the trash bin already and he only just got up.
Last night, after tossing and turning for hours, Copia fell asleep only to promptly land in a hysterically embarrassing dream that made him jolt up whimpering like a kicked dog and hiding his face in the pillow. Bringing himself close to suffocation, he finally realised that he had not actually stumbled right in front of you, spilling juice all over his robes, scrambling to get up only to slip in the puddle by his feet, falling onto his butt with a high-pitched cry. You had been standing there motionless, watching the spectacle unfold until you turned around to leave.
This is the reaction he would expect, should he ever actually find the courage to ask you out. However, this is highly doubtful, because upon walking to his office half an hour later, he catches you with a group of friends. He often sees you with them – attractive young Siblings, evident chemistry between all of you, and every week he suspects a different one to be in love with you. He recognizes the two Sisters he saw from his window earlier this week. One of them presses a loving kiss to the other’s cheek and he wishes he could just walk up to you and do the same.
His heart hurts. No matter how much kindness you extend to him, you’re a beautiful young soul who could never be romantically interested in an aging loner. Copia is not disliked per se, he gets along with pretty much everyone, but he struggles to build meaningful connections. Between working his butt off to satisfy the clergy and spending time on his mostly solitary hobbies, it’s hard to meet people. He had to actively put himself out there but neither online dating nor any of the singles’ events Terzo sent him on brought any results – only what the young Siblings call getting “ghosted” or “benched”.
His ad is his last chance. And even that failed miserably.
As he ponders his options, your eyes suddenly meet his and he swears you’re smiling. Then you lift your hand in a cautious wave. For a second, he’s too scared to wave back because there are people around him, all of which could be your target. Your hand sinks after a moment as your smile slowly straightens and he suddenly knows that you do mean him. He lifts his hand far too excitedly in a reciprocative wave. Your smile returns, a shy one, but before he can even think about possibly approaching you, his knees suddenly give out.
No, they don’t give out, someone rams a trolly filled with supplies for Black Mass into him. Some of the tall candles roll off the top and clatter to the floor, breaking in half just like his dignity.
“Oops, sorry, Cardinal,” the Sibling says, scrambling to help him up. “It’s so hard to steer this thing.”
“It’s fine,” he chokes out, the pain in his knees anything but fine. “It happens.”
“I’m truly so sorry.”
He smiles, a hand on their shoulder now that he’s on his feet again. “It is okay, eh? No worries.”
When his eyes try to find you again, you’re not there anymore and he can’t decide if he’s relieved or sad. He prays to Satan that you didn’t see him fall but there is no way you missed it. His dream, if slightly watered-down, did come true after all and perhaps now you won’t want to–
“Cardinal, are you alright?”
Copia, still dizzy and skittish, spins around so hard he nearly stumbles again. He smooths out his now crumpled cassock, the dust he collected on the floor even more visible on today’s black vestments. In an attempt to retain his dignity, he straightens his spine and looks right into your beautiful eyes. You have a tendency to startle him like that and he wishes he could be more smooth about these encounters.
“Yes, yes, Sibling, thank you. It was… it was nothing, just a little stumble, eh?”
“Are you sure?” You inspect him from head to toe, your brow creased in concern. “It looked painful. Your knees…”
“Oh, my knees are fine!” he lies. “I kneel all the time, Sibling. You know this.” Your eyes widen and he continues to stammer. “I mean in prayer. I pray a lot. On my knees. I am a Cardinal, yes? It’s my job.”
You nod heavily. “Yes, of course.”
“So, ugh… I better just fuck off.” He presses his lips together to keep more silly words from coming out. “I mean I’ll go back to work. ”
As he tries to leave, your hand shoots up, squeezing the muscles in his forearm. He’s not as much startled as enthralled by your touch, so unexpected that he has no time to feel insecure but so welcome that it almost feels natural to have your fingers on his arm. He swears there is a hint of nervousness in your eyes now and despite knowing it’s silly, his heart wants to interpret it as bashfulness.
“Cardinal, please. I… ugh…”
You look beautiful from up close. Even if you weren’t stuttering he’d have a hard time listening to your words. It seems like you stopped breathing, your cheeks now a sweet shade of rosy, and you open your mouth to speak but no words come out. Eventually, you shake your head and run your fingers over the fabric of his sleeve. He thinks he’s about to pass out, his nerves rising until he can feel his heartbeat all the way up to his neck. Your hand is so gentle, so… affectionate.
“I’m sorry, Cardinal. I don’t mean to keep you. I was just thinking that I really like the black cassock. It suits you.”
A compliment. His mind is racing. This is not what you really wanted to say, he can tell, but he grins anyway. You like his cassock? Well, you should wait until you see him in a suit. Maybe on a date. He should ask, he realises. This is the moment he’s been waiting for for months now. But as he continues to stare at you his tongue becomes too heavy to form the words, and then your hand is suddenly gone and takes his courage right with it.
“Thank you, Sibling,” he says instead. “I also really like your ugh… your outfit.”
Only when the words leave his mouth does he realise it’s the same everyday habit you’re wearing all the time. Somehow, the silly compliment still manages to conjure a smile onto your face and so he stops berating himself because he made you smile. The sight stuns him, butterflies erupting in his already nervous stomach.
“I’ll see you later, Cardinal,” you say then, your eyes leaving his to glance down the hallway where your friends are waiting, beckoning for you to hurry.
Copia nods and he looks down at your hand in silent fascination, staring at your fingers that are dangling by your thigh without any use as if he could magically make them touch his arm again. “Yes, yes. See you,” he mumbles. “Bye bye.”
When he looks back up, you’re already hurrying off. Copia stays frozen, his gaze trailing after you as though his eyes are glued to your form. Even when you’re out of sight it takes him a while to start moving, to start breathing again.
Around him, the hallway slowly empties as everyone starts to tend to their respective duties. Copia can’t help but feel the nagging disappointment about not asking you out. A chance like this won’t suddenly appear again and even if you refused him it would still be less humiliating than the untouched ad at the bulletin board. He should take it off right now, he figures.
Only when he enters the hallway leading to his office, something looks off about the postings. He notices the change from the corner of his eye at first as he walks past the large corkboard. More party flyers have appeared, someone took down the “diamond butt plug set missing” request that had been hanging there since an orgy in the Siblings’ wing went wrong last month. Instead, Copia notices a large poster promoting condom usage that partly covers the request underneath. Which is how he recognises it.
His ad.
And one of the numbers is missing.
Copia nearly lets out a loud squeal as realisation dawns on him like the gentle spring sun rising over the hills every morning, bringing warmth and happiness after a cold, dark night. It seems like Cupid finally answered his prayers, like Aphrodite found sweet mercy for him.
Someone took his number. Someone wants to reach out to him.
For the rest of the day, he feels like he swallowed a swarm of bees, staring at his phone like it’s going to light up any second. Which it could. He could receive the message or call that changes his life any second now. Any second. Any… any second.
Nothing happens. Not in the next hour, not in the next two hours. All day, in fact, his phone stays quiet. His initial happiness deflates like a balloon. As he heads towards his quarters that evening, he observes how everyone piles into the dining hall, their happy laughter and cheerful spirits spoiling his usually solid appetite. He hates the sour feeling of envy in his stomach but he can’t help but suspect that everyone conspired against him.
Copia decides to skip dinner in order to cry into a big bowl of gelato. His nightmare might not have come true but his brain tortures him with pictures of your smiling face instead, with the phantom feeling of your warm hand lingering on his arm, and he can’t help but feel crushed anyway. He’d sell his soul to come home to you, to eat with you, sit with you, watch silly movies with you, fall asleep with you in his arms and wake up with your smile as the first thing he gets to see every day. It becomes increasingly clear to him that every day he misses out on being with you is a day tragically lost.
If only he was brave enough to change that.
✦ ✧ ✦
You’ve been pacing your bedroom for the better part of the evening now, back and forth and back and forth to the point where you’re seriously concerned about wearing down your carpet. The day passed uneventfully apart from your encounter with Copia in the hallway where you made a complete fool of yourself. You would have loved to skip all of the unnecessary fuss of texting back and forth but you barely spoke more than two words to him before you chickened out. Surely, if his interest in you was romantic, he could just ask you out instead of advertising himself on a public corkboard?
In any case, you’ve been typing out messages for over an hour now, deleting every single one of them only to throw your phone onto the bed multiple times before picking it back up to risk another attempt.
The reason you haven’t given up yet is that Lily knows you have his number now. Last night, when you thought everyone was asleep, you snuck out of your dorm feeling like James Bond with your torch and black clothing, tiptoeing down the empty corridors of the abbey. You didn’t want anyone spreading any premature rumors but a part of you was hesitant to take one of the numbers at all. Even if you called him, it wasn’t certain that he’d want to go on a date with you.
Still, you ripped off one of the thumb-sized pieces of paper and headed back – only to promptly run into Lily as she snuck out to meet Nora. You’re never going to forget her self-satisfied grin as she spotted you with the crumpled number between your fingers.
Begging your creative juices to start flowing, you stare at the empty message box. Perhaps you should be funny. You wonder if he knows the Piña Colada song. It is about a lonely hearts ad after all and he’s a musician. You type and type, delete and retype until you end on a rough draft to show Lily when she gets home. But no, upon rethinking, the joke is too silly even for you and there’s probably a better way to phrase this–
“Hey, have you called him yet?”
You jump, your heart rate doubling in shock. Lily appears in the open doorway and her voice startles you so fiercely that you clutch your phone to your chest. To your utter horror, the swishing sound of a sent message reaches your ear as your palm connects with the touchscreen, and when you glance down, the bubble with your typed out message sits at the top of your chat history.
“Oh no,” you whisper.
“What?”
“I sent my stupid silly joke message to him.”
Lily picks your phone from your hands, reading the solitary message from the display. “Well, at least now you’ll know if he shares your weird sense of humour?”
You grasp her shoulder and release a deep, throaty groan. Her words don’t calm you in the slightest, if anything, they only make it worse.
✦ ✧ ✦
Driving Miss Daisy can’t distract him anymore.
Every two minutes Copia reaches for his phone to check for any missed texts or calls only to have the gapingly empty home screen staring back at him. He never figured out how to change the pre-set wallpaper. Perhaps he could try again when he has a cute couple picture of him and his future partner. The thought makes him smile. It’s one of many little things he would change – if they only called.
Despite putting it on vibrate, he doesn’t trust the device to inform him of any news. He even carried it to the toilet twice already, just in case something happens while he’s gone. His ice cream doesn’t satisfy him tonight, everything feels bland and devoid of flavour, but he refills his bowl anyway. One big spoon and a bit of spray cream… and as he walks back over to his bed, he realises that he should definitely check his phone again because this took way longer than two minutes.
Right as he pulls the device out his pocket, it vibrates violently in his hand. For a moment he is so shocked to see a message pop up that he throws it away. It lands on his bed, bouncing a few times, display still lit up with one new notification glaring at him from the centre of his screen.
He takes a deep breath. This is real. He got a message.
No, he can’t look at it, he’s going to lose his nerves. A few more deep inhales and slow exhales, then he can’t fight the suspension any longer.
Hey, stranger :) You don’t like coconut, so you probably don’t like Piña Coladas, but maybe I’m still the love that you look for? I would love to go on a date with you, if you are still looking for one.
It takes him a second, then another one. The ice cream melts in his bowl as it sits forgotten on the floor next to his bed. Suddenly it clicks and he chuckles, in relief as well as amusement, thinking that he knows that song, that he gets the reference. That means this person is funny. They made a joke. He smiles to himself. A funny person wants to go on a date with him.
He types back, deleting, typing again. After five minutes, he comes up with a reply.
Hello, stranger! 👋🏼 I do not like Piña Coladas 🍹 but I have many better things to offer if you want to go on a picnic 🧺 with me tomorrow? I will bring food 🥪 and drinks 🧃 of course. Hopefully we do not get caught in the rain 💦😀
He thinks about how he could sign the message but then his nerves start to kick in. If he tells the person who he is, they may reconsider their choice to go out with him and that’s the last thing he wants. Even if the date doesn’t go well, he wants to try his best, so he shoots another message after the first:
Oh. It will be a blind date, if that is okay with you?
The next minute is the longest of his life. An eternity passes. He thinks he might have stopped breathing with how tight his chest feels. That is, until his phone lights up and shows the same number again, wringing a deep sigh of relief from him.
That’s fine with me. Where do we meet?
The squeal he lets out vibrates in his chest and bounces off the walls.
He’s got a date. Finally.
✦ ✧ ✦
Copia hears his bad conscience somewhere in the back of his mind whispering that blocking the best spot in the gardens all day is selfish. Perhaps it is true, perhaps he feels a little selfish today. And yes, besides feeling selfish he also feels a little guilty. Is it fair to go on a date when he has such a horrible crush on someone else? No. No, it’s not fair. But he can’t let another chance at love run through his fingers like sand on the beach. He simply has to grasp this opportunity.
His red-checked blanket lays untouched underneath the tall chestnut tree, its big, hand-shaped leaves rustling in the soft breeze as he approaches. The head of a rat is stitched into all four corners of the fabric – a gift from Sister for his latest birthday – and it’s been sitting here since nine o’clock when he took the liberty of… reserving… the spot. He picked the north-side of the tree so that the shade falls exactly where he’s going to be sitting with his date in approximately fifteen minutes. If they prefer the sun, he can just pull the blanket over a little, but he’d never forgive himself if they got sunburn because of him.
Copia took the day off, his first day off all year in fact, risking his next employee of the month award to spend all morning in town, running errands. With the end of May and strawberry season starting, he visited every grocery store within walking distance to find the ripest, juiciest ones they offered. He was lucky enough to obtain a small basket filled with the most delicious-looking red fruits and some additional fresh ingredients for his sandwiches. While he was quick-witted enough to ask about his date’s allergies yesterday, he completely forgot to ask them about their favorite snacks and so he’s decided to just bring anything he could think of that wouldn’t melt in the sun.
The basket he packed feels heavy in his hand for that exact reason and when he sets it down on the blanket, he can feel the strain in his arm. The past hour was spent obsessing over his outfit until he decided to just go for the white suit combo. Yes, white fabric near grass and juicy red fruits is not the most brilliant idea, but he wants to look his best and that means going the extra mile, even if he has to wear the tiny, itchy underwear underneath.
His heartbeat is going a mile a minute now. He can’t unpack yet, he doesn’t want the food to be out for too long, and so he sits and waits, his hands sweaty under his black and white leather gloves. The fact that the gardens around him slowly become crowded as the afternoon rolls around does nothing for his nerves. He can feel the curious glances, can hear the hushed whispers, and as the hour nears, he starts sweating even more despite the shade. If the unanswered ad had been embarrassing, being stood up so publicly would be even worse.
And then the most horrifying thing ever happens.
Copia sees you walking along the path, wearing a weather-appropriate, slightly dressed-up outfit that makes his eyes involuntarily roam your whole form. But he can’t fully focus on your loveliness. At first, he’s panicking that you’re meeting your friends somewhere close by where you could see him with his date. He would be so embarrassed, so distracted, so uncomfortable. But you walk straight towards him and that’s even worse. If he has to tell you that he’s busy meeting someone else he might spontaneously combust, explode into tiny particles of humiliation. It would ruin everything, his date and his crush on you. What if his date shows up and sees you with him? What if–
Oh no, you don’t stop approaching, you don’t take a turn, you walk up straight to where he’s waiting – with a hint of hesitation, yes, but very directed steps. Copia jumps up immediately, his black hat nearly falling from his head.
“Oh, Sibling,” he stammers, lifting a trembling hand to adjust his fedora. “Hello, hi. Are you spending some time outside today as well?”
Your mouth opens and you wring your hands before hiding them behind your back. “Hello, Cardinal. I ugh… I’m supposed to meet someone here under the chestnut tree.”
Copia furrows his brow, slowly registering your words. “Meet someone. Under the chestnut tree.”
“Yes.”
“Oh, Satan. It’s you?” He stops, stares, comprehends. He sounds incredulous, his voice a higher pitch than usual. “You’re my stranger?”
You nod, big eyes staring into his mismatched ones in silent expectation, hope and fear muddled together in the crease of your brow. He doesn’t know how to react, just rubs his thumb and index finger together as his mind races faster than speed limit.
“Is this… is this bad?” you finally ask, breaking the awkward silence.
“No!” Copia exclaims. “No, no, no. Please, please sit.”
You do, kneeling down on the blanket a little hesitantly. Copia joins you, still not fully trusting his senses. This feels like a hallucination. His disbelief has to be the only reason he hasn’t passed out yet. Is he really on a date with you right now?
After another moment of silence, Copia notices you eyeing the basket and snaps back into reality. His plans, his very detailed plans for how this date is supposed to go, flood his mind and he remembers the first step now. Swallowing his shock, he sits up a little straighter.
“Ah, eh… yes, I got you something.” He reaches behind the basket and procures three deep red roses he stole from Primo’s rose garden on the way here. Their intense smell hits his nose as he whips them past his face and hands them over. “These are for you. I hope you like roses. I know it is a bit cliché but also a classic, no?”
“I love them,” you assure him, holding them up to your nose with a smile. “Thank you, they’re beautiful.”
He smiles. “Good, good. Yes. So… I thought about what we could do and–”
“Cardinal,” you interrupt then.
“Oh, no. No, call me Copia. Please.” He gives you a shaky smile. “We’re on a date, no?”
“Copia,” you try but feeling his name on your tongue doesn’t make you feel any better. Ever since getting here your bad conscience made it hard to fully settle into this date and with his visible distress upon discovering it’s you, you feel like now is the time to address it. “Before… before we do this, I have a confession to make…”
He hums and wriggles his eyebrows. “Oh, really? Well, I would love to see you in confession soon…”
You blush furiously. “Oh, no. No, that’s not what I meant.”
A flash of concern and you can practically see all of his insecurities mirrored in his eyes. You’re both tiptoeing around the same question, you assume, but it’s on you to take the plunge.
“What… what do you mean then?” he asks.
“About this date…” His lightheartedness completely disappears. You feel bad for ruining the mood but it’s too late now and you need to get it out, you owe him that much. “Copia… It wasn’t a blind date on my part. I… I knew it was you.”
“You knew it was me?” he asks and again his features change, eyes wide now. He really had no idea that people knew the ad was his and suddenly he feels like a fool.
“I’m so sorry, I should have been honest from the start.” You stare at his gloved hand but you’re too scared to take it. “I hope you can forgive me for keeping this from you.”
“You knew it was me and you still… you still wrote to me? You still came?”
You furrow your brow. “I didn’t tell you because then I would have had to admit that it’s me and I was scared that maybe you wouldn’t want to go anymore.”
“Me? Not… not…” He shakes his head so fast that his fedora once again threatens to fly off. “Oh, tesoro, I would have… I would have been on the moon with joy, as they say. Yes, yes, I would have.”
You don’t correct him. Instead, an insecure smile settles on your face. “You know you don’t have to say that, Copia, it’s okay if you were hoping for someone else… That’s the risk of going on a blind date, right?”
He yanks your hand out of your lap, wrapping it up in both of his gloved ones. “Tesoro, can I be very honest with you?”
You nod. “Of course you can. Always.”
“I was hoping it was you.”
Your breath catches and steals your next words. The same incredulity that hit him earlier now settles in your chest and you can’t find it in you to question him.
Copia immediately fills the silence. “I never… I never thought…” You watch his Adam’s apple bob up and down, a nervous swallow, before he wets his lips. “Tesoro, you were always very good to me. I always saw your kindness, you understand this, yes? Don’t get me wrong, I just… I never thought you were interested in me like this. In such a silly old man.”
You have to giggle through your nerves. “I love that you’re a silly old man.”
He smiles shyly. “You are very sweet, tesoro.”
“I’ve actually had this crush for a few months now,” you admit, encouraged by his positive reaction. “And I want you to know that when I saw your ad I thought about calling even before I knew it was you.”
His smile grows impossibly bigger at that. “Did you?”
A nod. Copia squeezes your hand, then brings it to his face for a kiss. You feel his wet lips on your skin and they’re so soft, so gentle. When he sets your hand back down you see a trace of black lipstick on its back and instantly feel warm and fuzzy inside.
“Should we start then?” he asks. “I brought a lot of things, let me show you.”
The basket opens to reveal a plethora of food and drink options. Copia sets down a foil-wrapped plate with sandwiches that look a little wonky so you assume he made them himself, then some juice boxes, apple and orange, a box of fresh, delicious-looking strawberries, two bottles of water, reusable plastic cups and plates. At last, he hands you one of many different muffins he must have stolen from the kitchens.
“For my dolcezza,” he says with a smile.
More heat spreads in your cheeks as you take the little treat from him with a thanks. You’re both visibly losing your nervousness now, your postures less cramped, stretching out your limbs on the blanket with your bodies angled towards each other.
“Maybe we should… talk a bit about us?” Copia proposes. “To get to know each other, sì? I would like to learn about you.”
“Oh, yes, that sounds good. Do you want to start?”
He thinks on a good starter question, the pressure clouding his thoughts for a moment but then his silence grows thick and he has to say something. “So, ugh… do you like Star Wars?”
This is not one of the questions on his list of conversation starters. For some reason, every single meaningful thought suddenly leaves him. Luckily, this simple, safe question seems to put you at ease and you relax even more.
“I do,” you say. “I watched all the movies.”
“Oh, good! And what is your favorite?”
You pluck a piece from your muffin, popping it into your mouth. “Hmm… The Empire Strikes Back, I think.”
“Hehehe, sì, sì, I am your daddy.” His eyes widen. “Not that I’m… I don’t mean… you know, the scene with Luke… ugh. So, anyway, yes, that is my favorite as well.”
You giggle and he lights up, smiling so hard that his cheeks hurt. You reach for one of the sandwiches then. Copia helps, holding the plate up for you.
“So, these are all inspired by Italian foods. I have ugh… caprese. Mozzarella and tomato?”
You reach for the one he showed you. “That sounds great, thank you.”
Copia can’t help but stare as he awaits your reaction. You hum in delight and immediately take another bite of the soft bread. Satisfied, Copia allows himself to grab one as well now. Conversation slows down as you eat but you continue to talk about your interests between bites, finding more and more similarities as the minutes pass.
Your little spot is beautiful, cool enough to sit comfortably but warm enough to feel the reviving effects of spring. The leaves above you rustle every now and then, birds and bees flying past, the odd ant crawling over your blanket in search of some crumbs. Neither one of you is bothered as you sip on your juice boxes in tandem and intuitively increase your proximity.
With your bodies gravitating towards each other like that, you end up sitting very close after a while. Copia reclines against the tree trunk, pulling his hat down to grant him more shade, a little bit like a cowboy leaning against the walls of a saloon. His white suit is an odd contrast to his relaxed pose, not the most comfortable outfit to lounge in. Without thinking too much about it, he pulls you close to him and angles you so you can rest your head in his lap.
You’re only tense for a short moment. Copia gets rid of his gloves and you can feel his bare fingers running over your scalp. The steady pattern he draws calms you and you sigh, closing your eyes for a few minutes as a warm feeling of safety spreads out in you.
Copia can’t help but stare. Despite the initial hiccup, you’re so comfortable around each other that he feels like he’s known you forever. This is a dream come true for him, all his fantasies, his wishes, his longings, they all seem to come together in the lovely face dozing in his lap. You’re the most stunning sight he ever had the pleasure to behold. Every line, every hair, every mole, blemish or scar combines into the most beautifully painted canvas – and to him, it’s perfect. You’re perfect.
“Do you want a strawberry, tesorino?” he asks then.
You open your sparkly eyes and they reflect a speck of sunlight breaking through the canopy. Blinking a few times, you shift in his lap to avoid being blinded. He tenses as your cheek narrowly misses his groin, but then you nod and he distracts himself by reaching for the box of strawberries.
With careful fingers, he grabs one of the shiny heart-shaped fruits, making sure to touch the stem to avoid any stains, and then guides it to your mouth. He can’t help but stare as he sees your lips part for him, the tip of your tongue peeking out to welcome the sweetness. You sink your teeth into the red flesh, so eager, and spatters of juice stain your lips. They appear even more saturated as you lick them clean, wetting them with your tongue, and he so desperately wants to kiss you.
“They’re so sweet already,” you say, taking the rest of the fruit from his hand.
“Yes, I agree.”
You giggle. “Copia, you haven’t even tried one yet.”
“Oh, I didn’t mean the strawberries.”
You huff out a flustered breath, fighting the still evident smile on your face, and hold the half-eaten strawberry up to his mouth. “Try.”
He lets you feed him with burning cheeks, keeping his eyes locked on yours. As his teeth meet the flesh, a few droplets of juice fall astray but he doesn’t even care if they ruin his suit anymore. He can’t stop looking at you, thinking about your soft hand so close to his mouth. He wants to kiss it again, desperately, and so he traps it with his when you try to pull away. With his lips pressed to your palm, he closes his eyes, kissing all the way down to your wrist where he lingers.
You gasp softly, lips parting as Copia continues to drag his lips over the delicate skin. Your reaction brings a smirk to his face, another moment that he’s going to think about for days to come.
“I tried, dolcezza,” he says. “And I think you’re still sweeter.”
You blush so prettily at that. Flustering you is easier than he expected and he takes notes of every little thing that draws a reaction from you. You spend another hour like this, eating fruit, drinking juice, chatting about all sorts of things while you exchange soft touches and words of your blossoming affection. At some point, the gentle breeze that carries on throughout the afternoon becomes stronger, and more and more people head back inside to escape a possible weather change.
Neither one of you wants to leave but as you start to shiver more violently, Copia’s worry about you catching a cold wins over his desire to prolong your date. He proposes to head inside as well, running his hands over the goosebumps on your bare arms to warm you up.
When you reluctantly agree, he starts to pile your dishes and the leftover food into the basket. You move to help but he stops you with a tut. “I will pack this up, eh? Don’t worry about it.”
“I could help you, you know.”
“Ah, no no. I invited you, yes? It is my pleasure.”
It only takes him a few minutes to pack everything up. You grab your flowers in the meantime and he watches from the corner of his eye as you sniff them with a growing smile on your face, swaying slightly from left to right. As Copia shakes out the blanket, folding it messily in the middle, you hesitate by the edge of your little picnic spot.
“So, do you want to walk back together?” you ask.
Copia smiles, glad that you don’t want to leave him quite yet. “I would like that a lot, tesoro. Should I carry the roses for you?”
You hand them over and he places them on the lid of the basket before he carefully picks it up. When he’s by your side again, you stop him with a hand on his forearm, the same gentle squeeze you gave him the last time. Only this time you don’t leave. Instead you lean in and press a soft kiss to his reddened cheek, your lips lingering for a few seconds longer than necessary. Copia opens his mouth but he can’t think of anything to say. Instead he uses his unoccupied hand to fish for yours.
Hand in hand, palm against palm, you walk past the leftover groups of Siblings that make use of the last few moments of sun. Neither of you spares anyone else even a glance. Whenever your eyes aren’t focused on the path ahead, they meet each other, giddy, love-sick smiles gracing your lips.
As you finally pass the first archway and enter the cool stone corridors of the abbey, Copia suddenly stops. Your arms slowly extend as you take a few more steps but before your hand can slip from his, he pulls you back. Maybe he used a little bit too much force or maybe he just caught you by surprise, but you practically stumble into his arms. A gasp falls from your lips. You make no attempt at breaking away and so Copia gently guides you against the frame of the archway, setting down the basket in the process so he can place his other hand on your hip.
Big eyes look up into his. He leans in slowly. The rim of his hat catches the stone and it finally slips from his head, dropping somewhere. Copia doesn’t care because he can already feel your sweet strawberry breath on his lips and nothing could stop him from getting a taste. Your hands impatiently grab at his lapels, then, pulling him even closer, and he gasps at the force of your need. With your eyes falling closed, lips slightly parted and your chin tilted up, Copia feels like he’s in a dream.
“Please,” you whisper.
He has to fight a moan, the word resonating somewhere deep inside his belly. Still, he draws out the moment for as long as he can, stalling as the tension crackles in the tiny space that separates you. He starts by nuzzling your nose while he pushes his hand upwards until he can grasp your jaw. As he angles your head just right, he feels your lashes fluttering against his cheeks. He fights off a giggle as they continue to tickle his skin and you shift slightly against him, growing impatient.
“Co–”
His mouth swallows your next syllable. You hum against him as his lips capture yours with gentle adoration. The grip on your waist tightens at the same time as his thumb presses into your cheek. Want, need, trickles into your belly and Copia feels the same way, moving his mouth against yours with slightly more pressure. The kiss is still slow, still tame, but it’s unmistakable how much stowed up desire for the other you both hold inside.
For a while you continue like this, your body trapped between Copia and the cool stone and the world around you a mere shadow. You open your mouth for air and that’s when you can feel his tongue cautiously pushing against yours. The sensation makes you feel even more fuzzy, the need for oxygen forgotten as you tangle your tongue with his. The taste is sweet, residues of fruit and juice, and underneath it all you feel Copia. Copia.
You only break away when you’re both struggling to keep up the pace. He’s a mess, his lipstick gone, black smears covering his chin and cheeks where his eye make-up rubbed off. You lift your hand to wipe some of your mingled spit off of his chin and the blissful expression on his face makes you smile. You love to see his face ruined like this, you decide. And Copia, seeing the lipstick-smears all over your kiss-swollen mouth, unknowingly thinks the same.
“We should do this again sometime,” you say. “The date but also… this. Actually, I think we should do it again right now.”
Copia chuckles, resting his forehead against yours. “How about we never stop doing it?”
You nod your approval, wrapping your arms around him to play with the hair at the nape of his neck. It’s soft, if a little bit sweaty, messy from the loss of his hat. “I would like that a lot, Copia.”
“I mean it, tesoro,” he whispers with a hint of insecurity. “I don’t want to stop spending time with you. Ever. We already wasted enough of it.”
A big smile breaks out on your face. Copia can’t help but return it, squeezing you a little tighter to his body, and you giggle happily as he kisses your nose.
“You’re right,” you finally say. “Let’s not waste another moment.”
Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this silly little story – kudos, comments, rbs etc are as always much appreciated ♡
Masterlist – My Ao3
#i dedicate this to all of my awkward cardinal lovers#been dying to write more of him since the christmas fic#cardinal copia#copia#cardinal copia x reader#cardinal copia fanfiction#copia fanfiction#the band ghost fanfiction#ghost fanfiction#copia fluff#cardinal copia fluff#copia x reader#papa emeritus x reader
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thinking about the cardinal. thinking about the studious man so adept at his job he was almost employee of the month several times. thinking about the man who occupies a corner table in the ministry library, scribbling notes for his sermons when it’s his turn to preach the word of the unholy father. when he stands at the pulpit, both terrified and thrilled at all eyes on him, the leather of his gloves creaking beneath the death grip he has on the podium. several siblings laugh, he doesn’t care. when he starts speaking, when the word of the olde one flows from him in a powerful tone - much more powerful than his slight frame would ever suggest - the congregation is reduced to silence. he preaches and praises their sins and the sins of their father until even the most cynical among them have tears in their eyes. that is when imperator knows her child was meant for greatness. that is when cardinal copia comes into his own.
#my man may be awkward but god dammit he's charismatic and smart#cardinal copia#copia#the band ghost
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Sending love and support to all my fellow Copia self-shippers today.
I have no idea what's going to happen to our man, but I choose to have faith.
#I love one (1) awkward rat man#rite here rite now#cardinal copia#papa emeritus iv#selfshipping without shame
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Halloween Merch Arrival 🎃🖤
#I don’t know how to take selfies#I’m awkward#but look at my shirt#ghost bc#the band ghost#ghost merch#papa emeritus the fourth#papa emeritus iv#papa 4#papa copia#copia#Cardinal copia#the band ghost merch
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I decided to make some stupid little papa iv stickers😅
#please excuse my bad art#just an awkward little satanic pope#my artwork#ghost band#ghost movie#ghost#ghost bc#papa emeritus iv#cardinal copia#papa 4
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Tobias: this is my new oc cardinal copia. Isn't he fucking horrible? Just the most annoying little guy. Don't you just want to fuck him up?
Also Tobias: I think they misunderstood fuck him up
#the band ghost#okay to reblog i guess#the fact that tobias wanted us to HATE copia is so funny to me#like you presented us with the most awkward little autistic guy#and wanted us to hate him#ghost band#ghost bc#cardinal copia#papa emeritus iv#Tobias forge
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Popia rly do have that oncler post-getting rich vibe don’t he
exactly listen i am Here for a good corruption arc, ESPECIALLY one where hes always had the traits hidden inside him that will eventually be seen under their negative light once the spotlight is shined on him.
#evil copia brainworm. evil copia but hes still awkward and a loser that just wants approval.#and when he loses it all and he finally looks back its with regret and with the knowledge that he let himself go too far#and he can never go back.#ft biggering lyrics this time. aha.#ghost band#cardinal copia#papa emeritus iv#silly art tag#i want him to go evil and then get killed going too far SO bad <3
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I see the whole "Copia is such an innocent baby virgin" thing a lot, based on his neurodivergent and awkward traits.
But I also am seeing a lot of people say "Copia is absolutely not an innocent virgin, I don't understand why people keep saying he's autistic."
Both of these statements infantilise autistic people and it's getting a little frustrating, as someone who is autistic.
Copia exhibits both autistic traits AND is very very likely sexually active. Being autistic and having weird interests does not make you incapable, I'm surprised that I'm seeing so much of this.
#especially on THE nd website#let the man fuck and ride his tricycle#i am saying this as someone who is both autistic and PAINFULLY socially awkward who is also very sexually active#I've been infantilised a lot because of my autistic traits and it is just :/#seeing it happen in fairly nd spaces just sucks#the band ghost#papa emeritus iv#cardinal copia
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fire flies -- cardinal copia x reader
After a stressful day in the abbey, you and Copia take some time to unwind in the courtyard at dusk.
reader is feminine, not quite copia’s girlfriend but they are more than friends. the ghouls are mythical creatures (so far i think half elves, but i’m going to develop this idea more) // 3.0k words.
i tagged this with papa iv but it does take place in his cardinal days because i don't want to move on yet
You sighed and fell onto a couch in Copia’s office, covering your face with your hands. He had called you in on your day off to ask for help, and you didn’t mind that. It was more of you volunteering so you could spend time with him than him calling you in, but the task he was struggling with was a behemoth. You didn’t blame him for wanting help but you still mourned the little bit of you that died that day at the hands of Sister Imperator and her assignments.
Copia frowned as he watched you cross the room and plop onto the couch. He same over and sat next to you, wrapping you up gently in his arms, “Tesoro… thank you for your help today.” He said softly, hoping it was enough to make you feel better.
“You’re welcome, Cardinal,” you whispered back, curling up in his arms, “I’m glad you let me help.”
Copia gently took both of your hands in his, moving them off of your face slowly. He leans in and places a kiss on your cheek, taking his time and lingering for a moment. You smiled and let your head roll onto his shoulder, mumbling another thank you.
“Prego,” Copia replied, setting his hand on your bare thigh. Since it was your day off, you came in without your usual habit. When Copia saw you in casual clothes, no matter how often he did, his heart almost always jumped out of his throat. This time, you entered his office wearing a black sun dress and black platform sandals, your hair down and clipped off to the side. He had stopped calling you sister and went straight to darling.
A few moments of silence past as you both rested your heads, holding onto each other for balance in the stillness of the room. A beep from your phone pulled you out of your reverie and as you checked it, Copia took the opportunity to check the time on his watch. He turned back to you and watched you scroll, text, and tap, the light from your phone shining brighter in the gradually dimming room.
Even with the overhead light on, the room still transitioned in time with the setting sun. You set your phone down on Copia’s thigh, feeling his gaze on you as the orange sun reflected in the hue of your eyes. Copia gave you a smile before giving you another soft kiss on your cheek, his body passing in front of your vision.
“Tesoro… how might I thank you for your help today?” Copia whispered in your ear softly before placing a kiss at the top of your jaw, the closeness making you shiver.
“That really isn’t necessary, Cardinal,” you replied, looking up into his eyes as he pulled away, “Helping you is my job, I don’t deserve anything special.”
“Oh, nonsense,” he smiles down at you and brushes your hair behind your ear, “Let me take you for coffee.”
“Cardinal it’s eight at night!” You laughed and leaned into his touch unwittingly, the way you always did. The impulse you could never control, but Copia was glad you did it without thinking. Your instincts were tuned to him, and he was spoilt.
“That’s never stopped me before,” he grinned, nudging his nose against yours.
“That’s why you have insomnia, Copia.”
You giggled as he pouted, pulling his head back from you but still keeping his hands on your body. “I’m an Italian man, tesoro. We do coffee and desserts, it’s in my blood.”
“Well let’s do that tomorrow, then,” you smiled, being the one this time to lean in and kiss his cheek affectionately. You felt him stiffen in surprise but melt into enjoyment when he placed his hands on your back. “We’ll get breakfast in the morning, how’s that?”
“Si, si cara…” he whispered blissfully, and you could hear the dopey smile on his face. “But I still wish to thank you tonight.”
That was code for: I’m not ready to let you go yet, I’m not ready to live without you, please don’t leave me so soon, don’t you want to spend your night with me?
I do, I do, I do. "Well Rain just texted me and said that all the ghouls are outside, we could stop by.” You offered, a hopeful gleam in your eyes. “It’s a beautiful night out.”
“Tell them to meet us at our spot, then,” Copia smiles and hands you your phone before he stands up, holding his hand out to you. “I can’t think of a better way to wind down.”
The spot mentioned was a porch swing that sat on the lawn of the abbey. The bars were iron and the canopy and cushions were a pale, peachy green. It was where you and the Cardinal shared lunches, read to each other on breaks, and often embraced in the mornings before entering the abbey and exchanging the endearments you used with each other for the honorifics sanctioned by the authority of the ministry.
Copia squeezed your hand and pulled you up to your feet slightly. You laughed and held onto his arm, letting your head roll onto his shoulder. You both left your jackets in his office and left, taking slow steps in sync with each other as you moved down the marbled halls. Dusky light shined in from the windows and landed in orange and yellow rectangles on the floor, your shadows stretching out behind you. The vivid sunshine made his white eye glow amber and citrine as you watched him speak, evidence of his delayed processing. Copia worked through the events and accomplishments of the day by talking through them. It was his system for processing most things and you loved to watch the gears move in his mind. You loved knowing this side of the Cardinal, the thoughts behind his careful maneuvers and his strategies for keeping his anxiety and nerves in check. He was so cool, so calm when completing a task that was driving you crazy. Even now, as he revisited his frustrations from earlier, his voice was smooth and solid, like he had no doubts in himself anymore. It made your heart soar and you gave him a tender, ardent kiss on his lips when you were alone in the elevator. He hummed happily in response, surprised by your sudden kiss but still eager to reciprocate.
Copia placed his hands on your waist backed you up gently until your back was flush with the wall of the elevator, his lips moving in tandem with yours. Every kiss felt sacred to him, his own little taste of the afterlife. A little reward, Satan’s affirmation that Copia was in fact doing something right.
“I’m so proud of you,” you whispered, your hands cupping his plush cheeks in your palms.
His eyes burned into yours as he tilted his head down to get a better view of the windows to the he loved in secret. His eyebrow was slightly raised, but his cheeks gave away his reaction to your praise. “Amore mio, grazie… but why?” He asked sweetly, stroking your ribs with his thumbs.
“Because you’re doing so well,” you cooed, taking a step back from him so you could look fully into his face, his darling face that was currently smooshed between your palms, “and you’re working so hard, Cardinal. Remember how nervous you were when you started?”
Copia chuckled sheepishly and his cheeks turned a translucent red as he looked away from you, “I suppose I do, yes. But all of that is because of you, you’ve made me a better man, cara.”
“No,” you giggled and turned his face back towards you gently, but before you could argue with him, the doors opened. Copia smirked and kissed your lips quickly before walking out of the elevator. “We’re not done with this conversation,” your voice echoed from behind as you followed him out, biting the inside of your cheek to hide a smile.
“Mi hai reso un uomo migliore.” Copia looked back at you over his shoulder and winked before catching your hand in his again and giving it a kiss. You rolled your eyes playfully as you caught up to him, swinging his hand at your side as you walked through the entry way and out into the courtyard of the abbey.
Whenever the ghouls saw you two together, they took note of everything. The way Copia looked at you, the way he held your hand, the way he would back off just a little bit when he noticed they were watching him. The ghouls knew better than to make fun of you, but they would let it rip on Copia.
Rain wrapped you up in his arms and hugged you softly when you walked over to him. You giggled, nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck, “Hi!” Your voice chimed into the dusk air and into Copia’s ears, and he couldn’t help but grin.
Rain looked over your shoulder up at Copia and gave him a knowing smirk as he patted your back. “Hey, I’m glad to see you,” he said once you parted, “I thought for sure the Cardinal would be keeping you to himself all night.”
“Oh, please,” Copia rolled his eyes playfully, but did a terrible job at hiding the flustered look on his face.
You looked up at Copia and smiled shyly, shrugging your shoulders lightly. “I thought he was, too, with that insane assignment Imperator screwed us with.”
“It’s not like you wouldn’t have enjoyed being held up in an office with the Cardinal all night,” Rain teased.
“Whatever!” You shoved Rain playfully and he smirked before grabbing onto your waist and hoisting you over his shoulder.
Copia laughed and reached out to you as you held your hands out to him, begging him through fits of giggles to help you. Rain had drug you into a clearing where some of the other ghouls were gathered. Copia sat himself on the porch swing and watched like a father watching his kids. It made him laugh, honestly, because the age gap between you and him wasn’t large but in moments like these, it was exaggerated. He felt like he could never keep up with you. He had trouble keeping up with the ghouls already, and no matter how much your youthfulness rubbed off on him, he always felt like he was a step or two behind you and he was afraid to ask you to slow down.
A few moments later, you sat back down next to your Cardinal on the porch swing, and your head rolled onto his shoulder.
“Tuckered out?” He mused, placing a chaste kiss on your head as his arm draped over your shoulders.
“No, I just missed you,” you laid your hand on his thigh and smiled up at him, your face red across your cheeks and your adorable nose.
Copia tucked his hand beneath your chin and held your face still as he leaned down and kissed it, his lips overlapping along the apples of your cheeks and the bridge of your nose. “Don’t feel bad for me, cara. They haven’t seen you all day, go play.”
“No, I told them to meet us at our spot, you and me. I don’t want to ditch you, Copia.”
“Well, tesoro, we’re all here together. I never felt abandoned,” he nudged you a little bit closer as he began to move the swing gently with one foot planted on the ground, “I enjoyed watching you, in fact. And I have a feeling the ghouls are enjoying watching us right now, too.”
You turned away from Copia to look out into the clearing, and he was right. The ghouls were gathered up and giggling, watching as Copia’s fingers ran through your hair and down your arm. You looked back up at him and smiled, tilting your chin up to kiss his lips softly, “Let them, Copia. They know how I feel about you.”
Copia’s face was burnt up to the tips of his ear after the kiss, “How would they?”
“I told them.” You said bluntly, your voice cut with giggles.
“Oh!” Copia threw up his hands dramatically and his eyes rolled, “Of course you did!”
You started giggling harder and wrapped your arms around his torso, “Copia I couldn’t help it! I want to tell everyone, you make me so happy!”
“Amore mio, cosa devo fare con te?” He cooed as his hands landed on your cheeks, gently squeezing you face between his palms. Beneath the paint, his face was red, you could tell. His upper lip was slightly smudged from a day full of nervously biting it and your quick kisses, and you were pretty sure you had some black lipstick smeared on your cheek or your forehead. You had some on the back of your hand from his kiss earlier, and you wished that you could get these little marks tattooed so you could remember how they felt forever. Copia’s little kisses of fire were more intense and emotional than the bigger ones no matter how hard he tried. The passion he put into the smaller gestures of affection blew you away, he didn’t know his own strength.
“Well…” you began shyly, looking up into his eyes adoringly, “I can help you catch some fire flies, if you want.”
“I suppose that will be adequate,” Copia said in his cardinal voice, trying to tease you and hide the fact that he was swooning over the idea.
They were inching closer and closer to nightfall at this point. The courtyard was empty, the ghouls had said their goodbyes but still watched them from their bedroom windows. Copia kept his hand somewhere on your body as you reached up to catch lightning bugs on your finger. He needed to be touching you consistently or else he was scared you’d float away like the angel you were.
“Copia, look!” You turned back towards him and gently held your hand in front of his face. His hand flattened at the small of your back and he gave a small hum of consideration as he leaned down and inspected the bug crawling across your finger.
“Hmm… Piuttosto impressionante.” He said lowly, turning his eyes up towards you as he tilted his chin down to kiss your shoulder. “Bella cosa… si, bella cosa.” He moved his hand around your waist and pressed it softly into your belly as he pulled you back into him, resting your body against his torso. “The fire fly is very beautiful too, amore mio.” He pressed small kisses along your jawline and down your neck. The top of his berretta tickled the top of your cheek and you squeaked, trying to turn your blushing face away from him.
“Copia!” You squirmed but he kept his arms firmly wrapped around your waist. A diabolical chuckle came from behind you as he spun you around, holding your wrist up in the air to give the firefly room to fly off of your hand. His fingers were soft around your arm, his leather gloves holding you gently.
“Amo ogni momento con te.” He cooed, his voice gentle like a prayer. Copia loved to spend his nights speaking Italian to you, regardless of whether or not you understood it. He loved to be the tender teacher and when you looked up at him with your deep, adoring eyes, he knew those little lessons paid off. “Illumini la mia notte, bella ragazza. Grazie.”
“Prego, Copia,” you whispered back, your eyebrows softening as you settled into his arms, laying your hands on his chest. You attempted to speak his native tongue back to him, but you tripped over the syllables.
“Copia, I think I-” you rushed out the first few words of a confession before Copia smiled down at you and gently laid his finger on your lips to signal that you’ve done well enough for him.
“Tell me the way you’re comfortable, cara.”
You didn’t know when you’d tell him you loved him, or if you ever even could, but you knew it wouldn’t be now, no matter how beautiful the moon shined on the grass or on his face or how welcoming and omniscient his eyes were. You decided to just repeat his sentiment back to him, smiling and watching as a lightning bug landed on his berretta. “You’re my light, my everything.”
“No amore mio, io sono l'ombra.” His dark words, like the dusky July wind, caused a shiver to tear through you. Copia pulled you closer to protect you from the grimness of the cold.
As nightfall closed in around you, Copia moved his hand off of your wrist and placed it on your hip. His other hand rested against your blushing face and his thumb ran along the apple of your cheek, slowing bringing your chin up closer to his. He never made you stand on your tippy toes for kisses — he always knelt down to you level before gingerly pressing his lips against yours.
“I love so much more than these little moments, you know,” Copia whispered against your lips, “and I know you do, too.”
You leaned into the gently placed palm on your cheek and smiled, and in that moment it was almost like you could read his mind. You knew he loved you, you knew he knew you loved him, too. But for now, both of you were content with sealing it with a kiss among the fireflies, in the lamplight of the abbey, in the blissful dark of the night.
#cardinal copia#cardinal copia x reader#copia#copia my beloved#ghost#the band ghost#papa emeritus iv#papa emeritus iv x reader#idk what else to add in the tags#i love sweet awkward loving copia#he's so sweet and little and italian i want to love him forever
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Copia: I appreciate you coming along. Since it's your first ritual I just wanted to say that when I get out on stage I.. kinda have more of an act y'know? A very extroverted persona.
Silas: I think I understand, you're acting, right?
Copia: Yes, exactly! I just wanted to let you know beforehand so you could prepare...
Silas: Okay.. thanks for telling me.
Silas later on hearing Copia talking some of the dirtiest stuff he's ever heard him say:
#silas' ok with it mainly he just severely underestimated it#mostly it's a shock bc he's like 'this is the same guy who's an awkward nerd who puts sweaters on his pet rats'#incorrect quotes#silas x copia#silas petersson#ghost band oc#ghost oc#copia x oc#cardinal copia#papa emeritus iv#papa copia
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⸸ GHOST RITUAL ⸸
29.05.2023 ⸸ Milan, Italy
#i've just realized i've basically posted these everywhere but here so here's a bunch of pics i took at my Ritual#it was my first Ritual AND the first concert i've been to by myself#i had several religious experiences every time popia stared at me#i fell in love with all of the ghoul(ette)s (especially sodo WHO BLEW ME A KISS AND CIRICE'D ME)#and despite being an anxious socially awkward mess i still managed to befriend a bunch of lovely ghesties and i had the time of my life#everyone was so nice and there were also a bunch of amazing cosplayers (i took a pic with some really cool terzo and copia cosplayers)#also i saw the copia cosplayer baptizing someone's plushia while we were waiting in line lmao#and at some point a girl dressed as a sister of sin started distributing communion wafers to everyone who was waiting in line#i love this band and this fandom so much#ghost#ghost bc#ghost band#the band ghost#papa emeritus#papa emeritus iv#popia#cardinal copia#nameless ghouls#nameless ghoulettes#dewdrop ghoul#rain ghoul#phantom ghoul#cirrus ghoulette#ghost ritual#my first ritual#my pics
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Copia: Apologies to all for apparently ruining every photograph at the launch of Poetry Review last night. With the benefit of hindsight, I can see that huddling up beside the equipment like some mustache twirling goblin was, in fact, not very discreet at all.
#cardinal copia#cardi c#copia#popia#awkward copia#papa iv#papa 4#papa emeritus iv#ghost fandom#the band ghost#ghost band#ghost bc#ghost#ghost posting#ghost posts#ghostposting#taintposting#shitghosting#incorrect quotes#internet quotes
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Seriously though how is no one talking about this 😂
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copia seems like the type of guy to put all of his favourite songs on one playlist and then blast that in the car, so one moment some heavy metal shit is playing and the next you hear—
YOUUU YOU LOVE IT HOW I MOVE YOU YOU LOVE IT HOW I TOUCH YOU MY ONE
#based on real events#it was an awkward car ride with my dad#we never talked about it again#shitghosting#ghost bc#ghost#the band ghost#tobias forge#cardinal copia#papa emeritus iv#copia emeritus
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