#there needs to be more secondo chat

[xxxmychemicalratpoisonxxx]

Teh boys :p

[ghulehunknown]

Mistletoe’d: Papa Emeritus III x F Reader

“Papa’s going to be coming down your chimney tonight.”

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 (coming soon!)

**WARNING - NSFW CONTENT - MDNI**

Summary: After the Ministry Christmas party, you join Terzo in his bedchamber for some festive activities.

CW/Tags: characters drinking alcohol, established relationship, clothed female nude male, blowjob, penetrative sex (P in V), condom use, cunnilingus, face-sitting, face fucking

Word Count: 4381

Available on AO3! Primo | Secondo | Terzo | Copia

Author’s Note: This is the third day of the four-part series XXXmas at the Ministry, a collaboration with @copias-sewer-rat, @molly-ghuleh, and @bupia - please read their works too!

Happy Hornidays! ❄️

xoxo, the Naughty Ghulehs 💋

Primo | Secondo | Copia

A HUGE thank you to AlexandrMcQueer on Twitter for the accompanying artwork! Check out the full NSFW version on her account.

Tonight was finally the night of the annual Ministry Christmas party, and Christmas Eve. Papa needed your help to pull everything off, so all week you were scheduling with the bakers, the cooks, the cleaning crew, and decorating.

But after this evening, you could relax. Well, aside from tending to Papa’s needs and making sure the ghouls didn’t get too soused that it ruined their unholiday in the morning. But after the party, you could enjoy the festivities.

Everyone began milling about and socializing in the main hall, picking at the large charcuterie spread and ladling punch or eggnog into glasses. It looked like everyone from the Clergy was there. Even Imperator and Nihil showed up, though they did not seem too sociable, seating themselves at a table in the corner. Primo immediately sat himself in one of the few chairs scattered around the hall with a large mug of something warm.

Suddenly the ghouls began whooping and you turned your head to see Terzo enter in a lavish looking Santa suit - it was made of crushed red velour with flecks of red sparkles and appeared to be trimmed with white feathers.

“Nice suit, Terzo,” you quipped, eyeing him up and down as he approached you.

“That’s Papa Claus to you, principessa,” he said with a snarky grin and giving you a smooch on the lips. “And you’re Santa’s little helper.”

That you were. He’d ordered you the shortest green elf dress, although the skirt was more like a tulle tutu. The outfit was a whole ensemble, complete with an elf hat with ears, pointy shoes with bells on the end, and candy cane patterned tights. You felt ridiculous, but ’tis the season.

Everyone was in their best holiday attire - anything from ugly Christmas sweaters to formal wear. The ghouls were all dressed in elf costumes, with the exception of Dew, who was dressed as Rudolph - an antler headband fitted over his mask and a red nose strapped to the front of his mask.

Cardinal Copia was wearing an old Saint Nick red and gold cloak over his red cassock, and a poorly made attachable white beard. Secondo was dressed in an all black 3 piece suit that had a subtle fleur de lis pattern, and was chatting with one of Primo’s ghouls.

The night went on, and you were actually managing to have fun. The ghouls turned one of the snack tables into a flip cup station (much to your dismay as you shuffled the catering staff carrying fresh trays of food back into the kitchen) and several of the Siblings started Christmas karaoke, with a very drunk-looking Copia taking the lead.

Terzo flitted between you and the rest of the guests, chatting with various Clergy members (and skillfully dodging Imperator each time). He snuck up behind you, squeezing your ass.

“Make sure these old fucks are having fun, eh?” he said lowly in your ear, nodding backwards to the senior members of the Clergy.

“And just how am I supposed to do that?” you said, one eyebrow raised, his hand still under your skirt.

He winked at you, handing you a bottle of opened bourbon before cupping your ass cheek in his hand and rubbing it. “We’ll cheers soon, then I can have you all to myself.” He leaned in closer to whisper in your ear. “Papa’s going to be coming down your chimney tonight.”

He clapped you on the ass then darted between people again. “Everybody - eggnog!” he shouted towards the crowd, raising his arms up. He was herding everyone to the center. You thought you might die on the spot from your cheeks burning red, but everyone was paying attention to him - thank Satan.

As everyone poured themselves another glass and gathered, you went around and splashed a bit of bourbon in everyone’s cup.

“Some bourbon for your eggnog, Cardinal?” you asked Copia, approaching him with the bottle.

“Eh, none for me,” he said, hiccuping and covering his glass. “It’s strong enough as it is! I’ve had th-three already.”

“It’s nonalcoholic, Cardinal,” you responded, blinking at him. He looked puzzled and walked away.

You made your way over to Primo who was almost snoozing in his chair. “Papa Primo?” you asked, holding the bottle out, gesturing towards his half empty mug. You weren’t sure if he was dressed like Scrooge on purpose or if those were just his pajamas but he mumbled something that sounded like “Bah,” and shook his head swiftly, the tassel at the end of his nightcap swinging around.

Everyone was standing in a semicircle around Terzo, who for once seemed just slightly lost for words. “Well, uh - shit,” he began, eliciting a few chuckles from the crowd. “I do not know what else to say, other than it’s been a fucking great year. We had two fantastic tours, and we’ll be continuing into next year… I, eh - met someone very dear.” He glanced at you briefly before continuing. “We won a motherfucking Grammy…!”

The ghouls whooped and cheered while the Siblings and other Clergy members clapped. You glanced over in the corner. Even Imperator seemed pleased - maybe.

“Sì, sì it has been phenomenal. You should all be very pleased with yourselves. So pleased in fact I think you should all celebrate, in eh, whatever means you choose to do. And if I do not see you all before the New Year, have an unblessed holiday. Now, we toast! Tomorrow morning we will celebrate our Savior’s birth. But for tonight, we sin.” He held up his glass and the others did the same. “To Lucifer!”

“To Lucifer,” you said, chiming in with a chorus of voices. You swallowed your bourbon-eggnog concoction - mostly bourbon by your heavy hand, you found as you winced slightly, the liquor burning down your throat. You didn’t drink much and this was your first holiday gathering at the Ministry. Next month would mark your first full year here, and the first time you laid eyes upon him - your Terzo.

“Eh, see you next year, Papa!” piped up Copia, still hiccuping as he nodded and ducked out of the crowd. You smiled at the Cardinal’s little joke. Terzo stopped in his tracks for just a moment and acknowledged Copia before walking away.

He rolled his eyes as he walked towards you then his face brightened. “Hello,” he said, standing very close to you.

“Hi, Papa,” you said, smiling at him and holding up the last bit of bourbon, swishing it in the bottle. “Saved the last for you.”

“Mmm,” he said, leaning in to kiss you. “How much? I need to keep my stamina for later.”

You took a swig and shuddered - Satanas, you still couldn’t drink straight liquor. “Not much now.” He chuckled at you and took the bottle from your hand, knocking back the rest. You coughed a couple of times and reached for some party punch, completely forgetting the one you reached for also had alcohol and coughed again.

He patted you soothingly on the back and asked, “Are you okay, tesorina?”

You nodded, finally grabbing the nonalcoholic punch and chugging some.

“Will Papa have to take care of his little elf this evening?” he said, trailing the back of his index finger over your cheek.

“No, Papa,” you said, clearing your throat. “I’ve barely had anything.”

“Good. I have a surprise for you tonight, amore.”

“Hm. Any hint?” you asked coyly.

“Not a fucking clue. Come to my room in five minutes just as you are.” He picked up a handful of hard candies from the snack table and popped a few in his mouth, staring at you while walking backwards a few paces before turning around and heading down the hall.

You continued to mingle with the other Siblings, trying hard to conceal your blushing cheeks but to no avail.

“Someone’s excited about something,” one said.

“It’s nothing,” you murmured.

“Come on - spill!”

“Well, Terzo and I -”

“Terzo?” said another.

“Oooooh!” the others said in a singsong tone almost in unison.

“He said he has a surprise for me, in his room.”

“So you graduated from office visits to home visits now?” asked the first Sibling, looking impressed.

“Well…I’ve seen his bedroom a few times,” you said, not willing to divulge the full truth just yet. You’d been spending most of your nights in his room and sneaking back into the Siblings’ quarters early in the morning. Even though each Sibling had their own room, you knew your Sisters would hear the door to the suite open.

“I think this is the most serious he’s been with anyone,” said the second Sibling. “I’ve been here a few years and usually he’s done with his fling after two months. But you’ve stuck around.” You shook your head, not willing to believe this hype only to be let down. You just wanted to live in the moment and enjoy what you had with Terzo. “You should go - you don’t want to keep him waiting.”

You smiled and bid your fellow Siblings goodbye as they all made lewd gestures to imitate various sex acts and waved you off, wishing you luck.

You walked down the silent and dark corridors, passing ghouls and Siblings alike shrouded in the shadows to have their midnight dalliances, no doubt egged on by the holiday cheer and the alcohol. You smiled, thinking about not having to hide in a hallway like when you first started dating him. Now you had his entire bedroom to have your sultry romps.

You opened his door and walked into his Papal suite, the familiar lush decor and smell of mahogany filling your senses. You passed by the small and elegantly decorated Christmas tree by the fireplace. You wondered just what his surprise might be when you saw him propped up against the wall, a rose in his mouth and —

What was that?

He was dressed in his Santa jacket and hat, with nothing else on - save one thing. Your eyes trailed along his upper body then snapped to what was in between his legs. On the end of his throbbing hard cock was some mistletoe, tied around his shaft by a red ribbon and a little gold bell below it. He waggled his eyebrows and at the same time isolated his pelvic muscles to make his cock bob up and down, tinkling the bell.

“How long have you just been standing there all hard waiting for me?”

His face fell momentarily and he took the rose out of his mouth. “I thought you would like it.”

“I do!” you said, suppressing laughter as best as you could while stepping towards him. You held onto the lapels of his jacket and leaned in. “I do.” He smiled again, a smug look of satisfaction washing over him.

“Good,” he said, handing you the rose. “Because you’re going to get stuffed and glazed just like Secondo’s honey ham.”

You bit your bottom lip, smiling. “But I don’t think it’ll be quite as delicious as you, amore.”

“It should be. I’ve been eating a lot of pineapple for this.”

“Really? Then I’ll have to taste it for myself,” you said, feeling the heat pool at your core.

He cupped your face in his hands, kissing you deeply, slipping his tongue in. You weren’t sure where to place your hands so you held onto the rose with one hand, the other in his hair. He swiftly brought you closer to him, his quivering cock poking at your thigh under your tulle skirt.

“Mm!” you said, surprised at feeling his hardness brush against you.

“Well,” he said, pulling away to look at you. “It’s not going to kiss itself, tesoro.” He twitched his cock again, making it bob up and down and wagged his hips side to side, making it shake the other direction and sounding the bell.

You eyed him slyly as you bent down, gently falling to your knees before him and placing the rose on the floor. You took his cock in your hand and began stroking his length, eyeing the perfect pink tip at the end. Each time you stroked him, the bell would chime.

“Oh cazzo,” he sighed, leaning his head back, his lips parted.

You flicked the tip of your tongue against the head of his cock and watched his abdominal muscles contract. He was like putty in your hands.

“You like that, amore?” you asked teasingly, his shaft in your palm.

He glared at you from the corner of his eye. “Stai zitto,” he said through moans as you continued to swirl your tongue around the head of his cock. But you could swear you saw a smirk pull at the corner of his mouth as he said this.

You closed your eyes as you took his entire length in your mouth, sliding him in and out and clutching onto his hips. The little leaves on the mistletoe tickled your nose each time the bottom of his cock reached your lips.

Clink! Clink! went the bell each time you slid him in and out of your mouth.

He started to whimper and moan quietly, his eyes closed in pleasure. His hand was on the back of your head, gripping your hair tighter the faster you went. At one point he began thrusting into your mouth, probably no longer able to contain himself.

Clink! Clink! ClinkClinkClinkClinkCLINKCLINK

“Mmm!” you mumbled around his cock as the greenery around his member assaulted your face over and over, scratching your nose and cheeks a little bit each time. CLINK.

Your eyes welled with tears as he hit the back of your throat repeatedly. CLINK. At this point you were hardly doing any work, just kneeling there and being used as a vessel. CLINKCLINK

“Satanas you’re going to make me cum like that,” he panted as he continued pushing his hips into your face.

You smiled around him - well as best as you could - and brought him closer by gripping his ass cheeks.

“Ah - cazzo!” he exclaimed, suddenly pulling out of your mouth and panting.

“Terzo?” you asked, trying to look up but you were unable to as his hand remained on your head as he used you to prop himself up and regain composure.

“I can’t cum too soon and ruin the evening, no?” he said, standing up straight and helping you up off the floor. “Not when I haven’t even taken care of you.”

You kissed his laughter lines around his mouth as he spoke, his Papal makeup smudged from your kisses earlier. “You always take such good care of me.”

He turned to face you and held you in an embrace, kissing you passionately again, his hands roaming all over your body. He began to massage your breasts through your costume, building the arousal between your legs even more. Your breathing quickened as you both moaned into each other’s mouths.

“Fuck this fucking blouse,” he said breathlessly, breaking away and tearing at the front of your green cardigan, the buttons flying across his floor - eliciting a ‘Shit!’ from you. “Mmm!” he mumbled, kissing you again, pawing at your chest.

He fumbled around your back at your bra clasp, unhooking it after a couple of tries. You urgently slid the straps off your shoulders and tossed the bra to the floor. He bent down to take your nipple in his mouth, circling his tongue around it and sucking. He alternated, pinching the other one between his fingers.

“Oh Terzo,” you sighed, running your hands through his hair, fiddling with the silver strands peppering his raven hair. He’d never admit to it, but you saw the box dye left on his bathroom counter.

Instinctively you squeezed your legs together, alleviating some of the need to touch yourself. You felt your heart race and a shiver run down your spine.

“Fuck me, please Papa,” you sighed, breath trembling.

“Mm?” he said, glancing up at you between your breasts with a glint in his eyes. He kissed all over your chest, up your neck and finally, your lips. “Is la mia principessa ready for her Papa to fuck her brains out, hm?”

“Yes Papa, please,” you said, still in a breathy whisper. “Fuck me.”

He nodded his head towards the bathroom and glanced over. “Go get a condom and meet me in bed. I’ll get the lube.”

“Why are there none in our nightstand drawer?”

“‘Our?’”

“Shit. You know what I meant.”

He grinned. “Ti stai dimenticando? We used them all last night and I didn’t have time to take some more out.”

Slightly embarrassed at your gaffe, you made your way into the bathroom and started opening drawers. “Where did you put the box?”

“Bottom drawer!” he called out.

Did he think differently of you now? Would he think you were too presumptuous and want to call the whole thing off? Or potentially, were you just overthinking things as usual? “Found it! Oh fuck, shit!”

“Sorella?” He sounded concerned and rushed over to find you on your hands and knees kneeling near the toilet.

“Almost got it!” You had dropped the roll of condom wrappers behind the toilet and had wedged yourself between it and the vanity. “Help me, Terzo!”

“Ah, I see now,” he said slyly. “Call for me in a panic just so you can entrap me.”

“What? Terzo, no, I really do need help, I drop- ”

“Sì, I can help,” he said, kneeling down behind you, his cock right up against your ass.

“It’s just, argh!”

“Argh!” he imitated you, running his hands all along your body.

“It’s right there I can’t - reach - !”

“Has anyone told you how sexy you look with your ass in the air in candy cane tights?”

You rolled your eyes but you knew he couldn’t see. “Er, no - um, thank you. But I dropped the condoms behind the toilet.”

He craned his neck to see. “Ah. This is quite the pickle we are in. You with your hand behind the toilet and your ass against my cock.”

“No, I believe it’s your cock against my ass.”

“What am I to do, tesorina? What should a Papa do when finding his lover in a compromising position, hm?” He leaned down and trailed kisses along your back, momentarily freezing your arm from the continued search of the condoms.

“Fuck…” you whispered, feeling his mouth move further south and his hands finding their way around your waist.

“What’s that, bella? You think Papa should fuck you? You called me in such a panic earlier that I did not bring the lube…mmm, what should we do?” he said, kissing you just above your ass. “Is la mia principessa ready?”

Your body ached with desire. You needed him inside you. He trailed his finger along your tights-covered behind, poking around where your entrance was. “Darling, I think your tights are just a little wet. Let’s see just how wet you are inside.” He gripped the fabric and you heard it ripping apart.

You let out a surprised gasp as the chill air hit your warm, now exposed nether regions. He entered you with a finger and your body shuddered against him as you whimpered quietly.

“Oh yes,” he said in an amused tone. “You are very ready.” He slid out and up to your clit, playing with it gently as you moaned and rocked your body back and forth to feel the friction against his fingers. “So responsive. Una così brava ragazza.”

“Please, Papa,” you said under your accelerated breath. “Please fuck me.”

“Don’t worry amore,” he said, reaching over you and grabbing the sleeve of condoms that you were having trouble getting just moments before. “I will.” He tore off one and ripped it open.

You readjusted yourself on the tile floor so you wouldn’t bang your head against the toilet or the side of the vanity as you heard the crinkle of the wrapper and the clinking of the little bell still attached to his dick.

“Oh FUCK!” you both said in unison as he entered you. He slammed into your dripping cunt with such ease, you felt him bottom out immediately. The tingle of the mistletoe against your clit heightened the sensation.

Clink! Clink! Clink! Clink! In and out, in and out. You both moaned each other’s names in pure, unadulterated passion.

“Ah - merda Sorella, you turn me into a teenager again. Fucking on the floor out of sheer desperation for one another.” Now he was so deep inside you the bell muffled against your body. CLUNK. CLUNK. CLUNK.

“So - mmm! - you’re d-desperate for me?” you said teasingly against the cold tile.

“La mia diavoletta pensa di essere così intelligente, eh? È ora che chiudi la bocca.” With that he fucked into you so hard, so fast, you couldn’t say another word. He pushed your head against the floor roughly, your cheek pressed against the cool marble so hard you could feel the grout indent. He nearly knocked the breath out of you as he hit your g-spot perfectly each time, a relentless grip on the back of your head.

“Ohhh - !” you moaned as he rammed into you over and over. CLUNKCLUNKCLUNKCLUNK. He was thrusting faster, riding out his orgasm, his nails digging deeper into your hips.

“Fuck - I’m going to - cum - Sorella - !” He pounded into you, tapering off his speed as he came, his cock twitching a final time before he slumped over your back, breathing heavily.

“Satanas,” he breathed, his chest heaving wildly as he pulled out, your body shuddering under him at the loss. You heard the snap of latex and the condom hitting the trash can liner.

You turned around and sat down, leaning against the toilet. You watched him untie the mistletoe and take it off, tossing it aside. “So how was it, with that?” you asked, nodding towards the discarded plant.

“Honestly? It was a little itchy. It might just be a novelty.” He tossed himself on his back against the floor. He looked at you, his chest still rising and falling from being out of breath. “How was it for you?”

“Honestly? It was a little itchy,” you repeated. You both smiled and laughed at the absurdity of the situation.

“Come here Sorella, I did not intend to leave you wanting. Hop onto Santa’s lap.”

You crawled over to him and straddled his lap, gazing into his eyes.

“What do you want this year for being such a good little girl?” He asked, caressing your arms and looking at your breasts before flicking his eyes up into yours.

“I want…endless kisses…and a mind-blowing orgasm,” you said, leaning down to kiss him.

He returned the smooch. “Mm, I did not know a present for you would also be a present for me. Come closer and sit on Santa’s face…that’s it, Satanas yes please.”

You moved up his body until you were straddling his face, then delicately lowered your body on him, doing your best to move your skirt out of the way.

He sputtered, spitting out the tulle from his mouth and pulling your hips towards his face again. He batted at the layers of fabric, cursing in Italian, before finding your cunt.

Your eyelids flitted closed as your lips parted in a silent “oh.” He took your clit in his mouth and sucked on it between his lips. He alternated between that and flicking your sensitive bud with the tip of his tongue. You looked down to gaze in his eyes but his face was completely hidden under a green tutu.

You began to buck your hips against his face as he used the flat of his tongue, building up the friction and feeling yourself closing in on orgasm. He switched up and deepened the suction on your clit, flicking his tongue against you simultaneously.

“Oh fuck Terzo - fuck, I’m so close!” You rocked back and forth as you pinched your nipples, heightening the sensation.

His fingernails dug into your hips again as he sped up his ministrations. Grabbing ahold of your waist, he slid you along his mouth faster and faster.

“Oh, Terzo!” you cried out in ecstasy, trembling on your knees above him as you came hard and fast in his mouth. He didn’t let up the motions or the intensity until you pulled away, giggling from the overstimulation. You climbed off of him and sat down next to him, both smiling at one another.

“How are you feeling? Good?” he asked, stroking your thigh.

You nodded your head. “Yes, very. But can I lay down next time? I’ve been on my knees an awful long time.” You both laughed.

“There’s Papa’s little hoe hoe hoe,” he said with a devilish grin. “Of course, amore mio. Anything for you.”

You held onto his hand, playfully caressing all his fingers. “It’s been a very good Christmas so far,” you remarked.

“Mmm. And you haven’t even opened your presents yet.”

“There’s more?”

“What, you thought this was it? No Sorella, go look under the tree.”

You eyed him suspiciously as you stood up, legs still a little shaky. You walked out of the bathroom and into the living room.

You hadn’t noticed the presents under the tree earlier, but there were a few. A lot, actually. Somehow even your gifts for him were under there. One of the ghouls or housekeeping staff must have moved them for you.

One caught your attention - a gold envelope poking out from the middle branches of the tree. You reached inside the tree, accidentally sending the package spilling onto the floor. Two plane tickets splayed out on the floor.

You picked them up in wonder - your name was at the top of one, and his on the other. You walked in a daze over to him.

“You did not truly think I would leave you with just my cock for Christmas, did you?” he said, following you out of the bathroom and now leaning against the wall. “I love you, principessa. I call you princess because to me you are. My sweet little thing. I want to give you the world, my world…would Italy be a good start?”

You flung your arms around him, tears in your eyes. “Yes, Terzo. I think that will be an amazing start.”

[Stay tuned for a continuation of this story!]

Italian to English Translations

(la mia) principessa ((my) princess)

tesorina (little treasure/darling)

amore (mio) ((my) love)

cazzo (fuck)

Stai zitto (Shut up)

Ti stai dimenticando? (Are you forgetting?)

Sorella (Sister/nun)

bella (beautiful)

Una così brava ragazza. (Such a good girl.)

merda (shit)

La mia diavoletta pensa di essere così intelligente, eh? È ora che chiudi la bocca. (My little devil girl thinks she’s so smart, eh? It’s time you shut your mouth.)

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in any of my future works!

[earthry]

Mafia Papas (Mafia AU Headcanons)

I couldn’t stop thinking about what if the papas were mafia bosses and maybe the Emeritus family’s territory is so big that they had to split it into four, one for each papa.

tw: mentions of violence and murder, sexual themes and content— just a little spicy, f!reader.

disclaimer: this is all fictional and romanticized, not at all reflective of what actual mafia life/people are like. plus my knowledge is absolutely not accurate this is all just for fun!

Primo

He’s not as hands on as he used to be in his youth— these days his ghouls do more of the work with him controlling the puppet strings behind the scene. You spend your days with him in a lavish estate with a beautiful growing garden that you both tend to.

The area you live in is known to be difficult to grow things, so you often get comments wondering how you managed to make the soil fertile enough. It’s probably all the bodies rotting in the backyard but you don’t tell them that.

Sometimes Primo hosts parties in the courtyard just to watch you flourish, fluttering around as others orbit around you. The life of the party. At the end of the day however he always makes sure everyone knows who you belong to.

“Dolcezza, would you like another glass of wine? Mm, yes you look very beautiful today. Beautiful and all mine, si? Good girl.”

Secondo

More hands on then Primo, works out of a night club as a front. You started as a dancer but now, as Secondo’s lover and beloved, you needn’t worry about anything else. Most nights are spent at Secondo’s side as he chats with business associates and plays cards, either curled against him or nestled in his lap. No one pays any mind to you— they’ve already learned long ago the danger of doing so.

Has a possessive streak and loves to have you wear things of his. Whether it be his jacket or shirt or even a watch, as long as you have something of his he’s usually satisfied. You bring up the subject of maybe getting a tattoo with his name or crest and he’s immediately chubbed up to full mast (good thing it was just the two of you in his office).

You move in to his large condo with large windows and a beautiful view of the cityscape and learn that he has a weakness for making love with you pinned against the windowpane. Whining with need and pleasure as the the neon lights of bustling city below illuminate your form. Laid bare for anyone who might happen to look up.

“Do you like that, tesoro? Do you like knowing the whole world can see you like this for me? I’m the only one who can reduce you to this, cara. No one else.”

Terzo

Loves to flex his power through dramatic appearances and is definitely the kind of monologue for a good hour to his victims before finally getting to business. He often has Omega stand beside him because of how intimidating the ghoul is.

When you first meet him at the coffee shop you work at, you are not impressed and he is immediately smitten. He visits almost every morning and orders drinks for both him and his ghouls for two months straight until you finally agree to a date.

For your first year anniversary Terzo goes all out, booking a cruise to the most exotic places he could think of. Of course you don’t know that 90% of the crew and passengers are linked directly to the mafia. He’d never put you on a cruise full of mostly strangers, it’d be too dangerous.

Loves dressing you in jewels and expensive gowns and showing you off. The two of you definitely have a few matching sets of suits and dresses that compliment each other perfectly.

“Let me help you with that zipper, amore mio. Fuck you’re gorgeous. Can’t wait to take this off you later.”

Copia

Out of all the brothers, he’s definitely seen the most fights. To him, it doesn’t feel right to have his ghouls go out to do the dirty work while he sits behind a desk or goes have fun somewhere else. To him, the mafia is family. While he may be the boss, he treats his members fairly and like equals. He’s earned a lot of loyalty as a result, even from those that may not have been on their side at first.

Out of all his brothers, everyone had expected him to fail because of how timid and anxious he was growing up. He can still be awkward and anxious but when his family’s lives are on the line? When your life is on the line? He’ll show no mercy, no remorse.

He worships you, absolutely adores you. Buys the cutest little house because he knows you’ll love it. There’s plenty of extra room for your rats and for a mafia boss you’ve never seen anyone coo or baby talk animals quite like him.

Nothing gets Copia harder than the idea of you being his little housewife waiting at home for him. It’s the dream he never thought he’d have. Of course, you’re way more than that to him; you have your own job and career too. But whenever he comes home to a home cooked meal and open arms, you’d better expect to eat the food cold cause the first thing he’ll wanna do is rail you again the kitchen counter.

“Fuck that smells good, dolcezza. You’re so good to me, how about you let me be good to you? Let me show you my thanks, si?”

[farter-imperator]

More pregnant Copia thoughts since this is apparently my brand now-

Copia holding Mass. He's not stopping his Papal duties just because he's pregnant.

His old robe doesn't fit anymore, so he had a new one commissioned. It's still royal blue and gold, but it has a beautiful, intricate design of a black goat in the fetal position across his tummy.

Slowly pacing back and forth as he talks about the sin of lust, one hand supporting his back because you know he carries heavy.

When he's behind his pulpit, reading from the Satanic Bible, he has his free hand rubbing his tummy.

When he moves to the front pew to pray, he needs help getting down and standing up again. Normally it's Papa Secondo that helps ease him down, and there's a pillow placed down beforehand to save his knees.

After the sermon is over, he chats with siblings and Clergy members for a little while before excusing himself.

He steps into the sacristy, where three of his ghouls are waiting for him. One ghoul carefully removes his robes, one ghoul helps dress him in his comfy clothes, and a third is waiting with a carton of juice and a small snack tray. The three ask him how he's feeling, if he's hurting anywhere, what he wants to do now.

Most of the time, he just wants to go back to his rooms, watch a crappy movie, and cuddle with his ghouls.

[youwouldntlietopapa]

Headcanons - High Papas

Primo:

Chances are you won’t be able to tell. Mostly because he’s always a little high and because he’s got a tolerance that would make Elvis look like a lightweight.

Mostly just chills out. It’s his version of an evening nightcap.

Tends to have a few go-to snacks and tv shows that don’t mess with his vibe.

He’s a BIG fan of the Shopping Channel. Something about the absurdity of it all along with the very low stakes watching experience make it just the right thing to turn your brain off to.

He has never actually bought anything from them, this is pure entertainment value.

If you do get chatting with him though, he will talk at length about the garden and his greenhouse, nature, how things are all connected, and much deeper subjects that he’s so passionate about and speaks about with such reverence, it’s like the most beautiful sermon you’ve ever heard and it’s impossible to do anything but simply listen.

Secondo:

He tends to stay pretty quiet for the first while.

Hyper aware that he’s not fully in control, he will usually overcompensate and acting weirder than if he just relaxed.

But as soon as he sees or hears anything that hits him just right, he dissolves into the most out of character giggles. It is slightly terrifying if you’re not prepared for it.

He will absolutely giggle himself to tears. Once he watched Terzo trip on the rug and faceplant directly into Copia’s lap. He laughed so hard, he pulled a muscle.

If you put any popcorn near him, he will eat all of it. He can’t help it. No one can even say for certain if he’s fully aware that he’s eaten that much.

Definitely falls asleep before everyone else.

Terzo:

He gets very… tactile. Needs to touch everything.

There have definitely been entire evenings spent petting a specific fabric just because of how it feels.

Somehow less clumsy that usual. No one really understands how.

This man will eat an entire bag of gummy bears if you don't watch him and he will have regrets in the morning. iykyk

Also gets VERY affectionate. More than usual. Yes, that’s possible.

He is all hands with his partner. Touching them is imperative. So clingy.

Cannot stop professing his love and complimenting and praising.

He might* cry.

Copia:

Where Terzo must touch, Copia must be touched.

He desperately needs to be held and cuddled, to have his back rubbed, and his scalp scratched.

Scalp scratches are a must. He will make the most obscene noises.

Huge golden retriever energy.

Grilled cheese. He needs a grilled cheese. And some ice cream. I’m not saying they’re going to be eaten together but I’m not not saying that either.

He will absolutely drag his partner off to bed at the first opportunity. He needs to be touched in spicy ways too. And he is very eager to please.

Not that he's ever really quiet, he is definitely louder than usual. And his dirty talk game is shocking.

*will

[gravehags]

you send me

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

Rating: Teen

Tags: Terzo being Terzo, Copia snapping, Secondo is a shit head, Primo is just trying to play a nice game of Uno, introductions

Words: 1,082

Summary: You've never met a Satanic pope before. He sure is something.

a/n: just a short little baby fic because I needed reader to meet Terzo desperately because I know it would make Copia absolutely infuriated. Cheers.

divider by @gothdaddyissues!

“Son of a bitch,” you spit, watching a paper from the stack you’re holding drift towards the floor and under the table you’re working at.

With a frustrated noise, you slam the stack on the surface and get down on your hands and knees to retrieve it. The paper, of course, had landed a couple feet away, causing you to crawl underneath the heavy piece of furniture. Your fingers just about have it when you hear a low chuckle from behind you. It startles you so much that you jerk your head, slamming it into the hard surface above you.

“Fuck,” you hiss, trying your best to clamber off the ground and confront whoever is watching you. When you finally stand, straightening your skirt, your eyes land on a most peculiar figure. He’s slight, wearing a black and white suit. Jet black hair, parted in the center of his head, frames a face covered in paint designed to look like a stylized skull. The paint isn’t odd to you - you have of course seen Cardinal Copia’s paints - but somehow he seems more important than anyone you have met thus far at the abbey.

“You’re staring, bella,” he purrs in a seductive voice, “am I so very nice to look at?”

Jesus. You fumble over your introduction, sticking out a hand for him to shake. He takes it within both of his own white gloved hands and pulls you closer to him.

“I,” he begins, “am called Terzo Emeritus. You may call me ‘Terzo’ if you like. Or perhaps ‘Papa’, if you’re into that,” he says with an exaggerated wink.

“Huh…? Oh shit you’re him? You’re the Satanic pope? I am so sorry, your…unholiness.”

He looks like he’s trying to stifle a laugh as he continues to squeeze your hands in his.

“No need for titles, bella,” he whispers conspiratorially. “Whatever you call me, I’m all yours.”

Somehow he’s gotten even closer to you, so much so that you can smell the hair product he uses. You’re about to say something awkward when behind Terzo you see a flash of red.

“Cardinal!” you half-shout as he approaches, a frown on his face. “Thank God you’re…I mean…we were just…”

“Capisco, signorina. I understand exactly what is happening here. How good of Papa to visit his new employee.”

The look in Copia’s mismatched eyes - funny how they both have those eyes - is positively venomous. Odd. Terzo steps away from you and slaps Copia on the back with surprising force, causing him to jolt forward.

“Cardinale, your timing as always is impeccable,” he croons with a grin toying at his lips. “I am quite impressed with your bellissimo curatore you’ve been going on about for weeks now, eh?”

You flush and look down at your feet. Copia’s been talking about you? When you look back up he’s as red as you are, staring daggers at Terzo who has a beatific smile on his face.

“We will have to chat again soon, cara,” Terzo says in that low voice again. Copia’s eye twitches.

“Of course, thank you for stopping by Terzo,”

He gives you a lingering smile before turning on his heel and brushing past Copia, who is still standing there looking annoyed.

“Shall we begin?” you say softly, gesturing to the pile of papers on the table. He blinks and the sour expression is gone, looking at you with kind eyes.

"Sì, signorina. Let us get to work.”

—-

“There he is!” Terzo crows from his spot at the round table. Copia walks in, removing his biretta and tossing it on a side table. Secondo has a foul grin on his lips and Primo looks exhausted.

“I was just about to tell them about the new curatore,” he announces, as Copia takes the seat next to him, shoulders tense.

“Well go on,” Secondo says, tapping his cigar on the ashtray in front of him. Terzo makes a dramatic fainting motion and Secondo wiggles his eyebrows.

“Beautiful,” Terzo says, breathless. “Paffuta.” He makes a lewd squeezing motion with his hands and Copia’s gloves squeak as he balls his own hands into fists. Primo is watching him quietly from his side of the table but says nothing. “Matura,” Terzo continues with a growl.

Secondo blows a stream of smoke out of his nose and makes a thoughtful noise.

“I’ll have to see her myself. Perhaps she prefers someone older,” he says with a faint sneer. Terzo scoffs and lightly slams his fists on the table.

“You should have seen the way she was looking at me today fratellino,” he begins, “Wide eyes and everything. Positively smitten.”

Secondo rolls his eyes. “Maybe she’ll like Primo, eh?” He leans over and nudges the brother in question who is still silently observing Copia. “He can tend her garden.”

The two brothers erupt in raucous laughter. Copia has heard enough.

“Silenzio!” he shouts, banging his hands on the table and rising. “Do not speak of her as if she is some sibling you can fuck and then discard!” Primo lets out a deep sigh while Secondo gently sets his cigar in the ashtray. Terzo, however, looks entirely too pleased with himself.

“I knew it,” he whispers, “I knew you were besotted with her!”

Copia opens his mouth to say something, but finds himself at a loss.

“The way you went on and on and on about her for weeks before she even moved in. I knew it!” Secondo chuckles and Primo looks disappointed.

“Terzo,” he begins quietly, “you could have simply asked him instead of riling him up.”

“Eh, this was more fun,” he says, waving a hand dismissively at his brother. Copia is still standing and fidgeting with his hands. He wants to speak up and deny it but finds the lie offensive. Sensing his anxiety, Primo speaks up again.

“Why don’t you bring her to us, Copia? I would very much like to meet her.”

Copia nods, still fidgeting.

“Sì…sì, I will. She is…” he falters for a moment, trying to search for the appropriate word, “kind. I have not known her long but from what I have seen she is…lovely.”

His face is practically glowing at this point as Terzo cat calls and then is harshly cut short by Primo laying a firm slap to his arm.

“Looking forward to meeting this kind curatore,” Secondo comments, once again picking up his cigar. “Does she like bolognese?”

Huh. He doesn’t know. Copia plans to ask you the next time you meet.

[silverofthunder]

☆ where i belong ☆

Papa Emeritus IV x GN Reader

summary: ”But all I’ve ever wanted was to feel like I belonged and now I feel so.”

content: 2.7k words, mystery (kind of), drama, fantasy, romance, friendship, mild hurt/comfort, injury mention, blood drinking

♡♡ part 1 ♡♡ part 2 ♡♡ part 3 ♡♡ part 4 ♡♡ part 5 ♡♡ part 6 ♡♡ part 7 ♡♡ part 8 ♡♡ part 9 ♡♡ part 10 ♡♡ part 11 ♡♡

Almost there! After this part there's only one part left and then this whole journey is over. There's a lot of feelings in this, I guess. Hope you enjoy!

The next evening you decided to celebrate a bit with the small group – the Emeritus brothers, you, Olivia and a few other humans were present and it was nice to just sit down, have some drinks and chat about things. You had been basically glued to Copia’s side for the whole evening, as well as Olivia to Terzo’s side, and you were so happy that the things were now settled. It felt normal to be there with everyone, the sense of belonging strong within you.

Your eyes went to Primo who was sitting on the armchair and the person on his lap, who looked at the older vampire with a drunken gaze. The bitemarks on their shoulder were visible, fresh, and they were swaying a bit but Primo had a strong hold on their waist. It was still a bit odd to see Primo like that, in his vampire glory – somehow he seemed to feel like the most human of the brothers if that made sense.

Secondo had conquered the another armchair, leaning against the back rest while the other unfamiliar person was sitting on the floor in front of him, leaning against the chair between his legs. The person seemed just as venom drunk as the other, maybe even more so, and you assumed that they couldn’t offer more blood if they wanted to stay conscious. Secondo still needed more blood in order to fight against the poison that affected in his stab wound and he had seemed grumpier for the whole day.

His eyes met yours, the hard gaze boring into you, and then he gently pushed the person aside, standing up and leaving the room without saying a word. Worry crept into you and you gave a little nudge to Copia, letting him know that you were going to check on his brother. Copia seemed to hesitate a bit but then nodded and you smiled at him grateful before going to look for Secondo.

You didn’t have to look for long as you spotted the vampire on the balcony that had a nice view to the garden in the backyard.

”I’m fine,” Secondo huffed out as you stopped right beside him. ”I’m not the best company right now.”

”I know,” you stated, taking in the sight of the vampire. He looked tired, the small black vein like lines under his eyes and there was clearly some tension in his body.

”You need more blood,” you said and now Secondo turned fully towards you, something in his eyes flashing. Maybe a warning but you didn’t budge. Instead you lifted up your hand and Secondo took a step back.

”You belong to my brother, he would kill me if I drank from you.”

”I’m sure he understands the situation. He knows I came after you.”

Secondo shook his head, though the way his nose twitched as you took a step closer to him told you he was tempted by your offer.

”Fucking poison,” Secondo cursed under his breath as he grabbed a hold of your arm. He studied your face closely and you just offered him small smile.

”I just want to help,” you spoke softly this time. ”Is that so wrong?”

Secondo let out a long sigh, his expression softening a little, and your eyes went to his shirt covered shoulder, the one where the wound was hidden behind the thin fabric. Then Secondo’s gaze snapped to the left, and you turned to look at the same direction, seeing Copia there, leaning against the door frame.

”Copia, I…” you started but was cut off by the soft, understanding look he gave to you before moving his gaze to his brother.

”When did you last turned down an offer, fratello?”

Secondo looked taken aback by Copia’s words as you granted a glance at him again.

”See, I told you he would be fine with it.”

Secondo’s gaze moved between you and Copia – he was still clearly hesitating.

”We all know you need it,” Copia spoke again, his eyes fully focused on Secondo. ”Please, take it.”

The way Copia’s voice changed when he said it, seemed to work and Secondo finally gave in. He bared his fangs and pulled your wrist close to his mouth. He breathed in your scent before sinking his fangs into your flesh and you gasped at the pain, your eyes immediately settling on Copia. Tears stung in your eyes and you tried to take slow, steady breaths in the hopes of helping to ease the pain. It did work to some extend and eventually the pain faded away.

The situation was kind of strange, that you couldn’t deny. Never had you thought that you would offer your blood to anyone else than Copia but this wasn’t a stranger who was drinking from you. And you had seen the worried glances that Copia had given at his brother for the whole day. You didn’t know the whole story about the poison in Secondo’s wound but you had learned that he needed some extra blood to fully heal.

Your wrist was numb but you could feel Secondo’s hold of your arm tightening a bit and he let out a pleased sound that made you shiver. It didn’t feel right but not exactly wrong either.

It didn’t take long before Secondo withdrew himself and your gaze went to him, watching him licking the traces of your blood from his lips. The black lines around his eyes had disappeared and he looked less tense now.

”Thank you,” he said, offering you a small, yet unusually soft, smile and you just smiled back at him. Then he turned, walking to Copia and stopping beside him for a moment. Copia’s hand came to rest on Secondo’s arm as they shared a look between them, and you could see the clear relief in Copia’s eyes, the realization hitting you like a wet rag.

Copia must have been terrified to see his brother getting hurt. In the worst case, Secondo might have been fatally wounded.

When Secondo gave a small nod to Copia before leaving, your legs carried you fast close to Copia and you wrapped your arms around him, careful not to stain his clothes with your blood. Copia let out a sigh, hugging you tightly back and you just breathed in his familiar, comforting scent. A moment from previous night slowly crept into your mind, a memory of the words Copia had spoken to you just before you had fallen asleep.

”Copia…” You eventually broke the silence, moving so that you could look at him. ”About the last night… I heard what you said. I was just too tired to fully register it, I guess.”

A smile rose to Copia’s lips as he placed his hand on your cheek. ”I know. It just came out because of everything and… I don’t expect you to say it back yet.”

He swiped his thumb across your cheek and you leaned into the touch, your heart full of warmth as you gazed into his eyes. And it was like the easiest thing in the world as the words burning on your tongue finally slipped out.

”I love you, too.”

Copia’s smile grew bigger, the look in his eyes turning into a melted puddle of multicolored suryp and then he moved slowly to capture your lips in a sweet kiss. You hummed into the kiss, sliding your hands to Copia’s sides, feeling the lovely softness of his shirt and flesh under your fingers.

When you eventually had to part, Copia took a hold of your hand – the one where Secondo had fed from a moment ago – and ran his fingertips over the bitemarks.

”Thank you for helping him,” Copia said quietly. ”Though I’m not sure why you’re soon keen on taking risks every time you have a chance to do so.”

You let out a little chuckle. ”You were the one to encourage it. He wouldn’t have taken the offer if you hadn’t come here.”

Copia shook his head. ”Oh, trust me, he would have taken it eventually. And I wouldn’t have blamed him for doing so, not in this situation.”

”He’s not the easiest one to help, is he?”

Copia laughed a little. ”Definitely not. He can be really thickheaded.”

You hummed in agreement. ”But he’s still charming, right?”

Copia rolled his eyes, a small grin on his lips. ”In his own way, I guess. Do I have to be jealous now?”

”No!” you exlaimed, gently poking Copia’s side. ”God, no. I’m yours, only yours.”

Copia leaned in to press a light, quick kiss on the tip of your nose.

”I know, I was just teasing you.”

With a grin you leaned in, so close that your lips were almost touching but pulled back before there was any contact and Copia let out a frustrated groan.

”Okay, let’s join the others.”

You took a hold of Copia’s hand and basically started to drag him back to downstairs where the others were still most likely waiting.

”You what?” Olivia’s voice startled everyone in the room and you gave her an apologetic look. There was still some things you hadn’t spoken about with her and one of those things had been your will to turn into a vampire. She looked at you with wide, shocked eyes, then slamming her hands to her face and rubbing the skin with maybe too much of force.

”This is not something I’ve decided after one night,” you said, your eyes still focused on Olivia. Hesitantly, you walked to her, kneeling before her and when she let her hands drop on to her thighs you took a hold of them.

”I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about this.” Olivia offered you a small smile, squeezing your hands. ”There just has been so much happening and… I don’t even know how to explain this but I’ve finally found where I belong.”

Olivia glanced at Copia before her gaze reached yours again.

”It just feels a natural step. Turning into a vampire, I mean,” you spoke softly, hoping that eventually Olivia would understand your decision. ”And it won’t change me as a person.”

Olivia let out a little laugh, shaking her head.

”God, this is absolutely crazy,” she sighed dramatically. ”I can’t believe how I got myself into this.” She emphatized the last word.

You chuckled. ”To be honest, me neither. But all I’ve ever wanted was to feel like I belonged and now I feel so.”

Olivia’s eyes started to shine of tears and you knew she would understand. Maybe not now, not fully, but at least some way she would. She smiled at you when the tears finally got free and rolled down her cheeks.

”Oh my gosh, I didn’t know you could be that sappy,” she stated, voice thick with emotion and then she surged forward to hug you and you happily wrapped your arms around her, holding her tightly. Your eyes settled on Terzo who had been sitting beside Olivia for the whole time, silently watching your scene. He looked at you with a soft smile on his lips.

”And I’m also so glad that I found a friend in you,” you admitted, pulling back from the hug. Olivia was now wiping the tears away but her smile only grew bigger as she gently shoved you.

”Oh stop it,” she groaned but there wasn’t a real annoyance in her voice. You just chuckled, placing your hand on her knee and giving it a light squeeze. Then you stood up and walked back to Copia who was sitting on the armchair. He patted his thigh and you placed yourself on his lap, searching for a comfortable position as his arms slid around your waist. When you rested your head against his, he used the opportunity to kiss your temple and you hummed happily.

A moment of silence filled the room and you probably could have heard a needle dropping to the floor. It was comfortable, cozy even. There were so many emotions swirling within you, most of them positive, and when you let your gaze wander from the vampires to Olivia, something in your chest moved – it felt like the warmest of hugs and you couldn’t help but smile.

The brothers and Olivia, you realized, were now the closest thing to a family. A family you hadn’t had for most of your life. And that’s why you were ready to move on, take the last step to complete everything.

Primo was the first one to break the silence.

”Our world might not be always that pretty but you surely will be one of the brightest spots in it.”

You smiled at the oldest vampire, grateful, as you couldn’t really trust your voice. The emotions were getting a bit overwhelming but you didn’t feel like you had to hide them.

”Copia is so lucky to have you.”

You blinked once, twice, gaze settling on Secondo who was looking at you with an oddly soft expression. For a moment you were sure he hadn’t said that but it had definitely been his voice. Then a familiar laughter reached your ears and you turned to look at Terzo.

”Oh, finally someone has gotten your cold ass heart to soften, fratello,” he teased his brother, and Secondo glared at him but the small smile that tucked at his lips told he wasn’t really annoyed. Secondo might have looked like a grumpy old man for most of the time but it was just the shell. Deep down there was a man who cared deeply.

You couldn’t fight back the tears anymore so you let them flow free and Copia buried his face on the crook of your neck, holding you tighter. Olivia started crying again, too, and she leaned against Terzo, though her eyes were still on you. Terzo’s fingers brushed a few strands of hair away from her face and then he kissed the top of her head, his whole expression soft and almost dreamy.

”Well, and our casanova seems to have found his tamer.” Now it was Secondo’s turn to tease and you couldn’t help but let out a little laugh. Terzo let out a mocking laugh and Secondo just grinned at him. Olivia didn’t look that impressed but it was understandable. She had her insecurities when it came to Terzo’s reputation but it was obvious that Terzo was completely enamored by Olivia.

Primo walked closer to Secondo and gave a gentle smack at the back of his head, earning a hiss from his brother. ”Behave.”

”Are you really sure you want to be a part of this?” Copia asked you quietly and you nodded without a hesitation, smiling despite the tears still running down your cheeks.

”Yes, I’m sure,” you replied as you watched Secondo rubbing his head and Primo looking at you and Copia with a smile.

Copia hummed against your neck and your heart was full of warmth.

”Since you seem to have made up your mind, I guess we have to start planning your turning,” Primo stated. ”You want to do it soon, right?”

You glanced quickly between everyone in the room before nodding.

”Yeah, as soon as possible.”

The excitement was already starting to bubble within you, though you couldn’t fully shake the little fear behind it away. Of course it was going to be a big change but in the end you knew it was the only right choice.

The look in Primo’s eyes changed and you couldn’t quite read it. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that none of the brothers had had the option to choose to become vampires. Your heart moved in your chest unpleasantly and for a moment you felt bad that you had the option. That you were free to choose your fate. It wasn’t fair, really. But as life usually wasn’t fair all the time for all, you couldn’t dwell on that feeling.

”It’s not going to be easy but we’ll do our best to make everything as smooth as possible.”

You offered Primo a grateful smile.

”I know.”

Primo nodded, smiling, and you felt like you could say so much more but the words just didn’t come. Things had been quite overwhelming lately so it wasn’t a wonder everything felt too much right now. As the peace had now achieved, a little break wouldn’t surely hurt and if you were honest, you really felt that you needed a one. And only then it would be time to move on to the next step.u

taglist: @nijiru

[writingjourney]

omg comfy HCs for papa!?? I’ve got you! How the Secondo and Copia like to spend a rainy evening!

Secondo:

Will never admit that this is his favorite kind of weather but he loves it, because he loves cuddling by the fireplace. Him and his love will spend the evening drinking tea - chamomile lavender (or maybe whisky if he had a long day of scowling). He also doesn’t want to admit that his love can make him laugh!

Copia:

(This is very important to me lol)

Copia likes making a homemade meal and a few glasses of wine with his love on rainy evenings. He said it’s good for the earth to get the rain! Once both him and his love are relaxed and feeling the warmth of the wine, he loves dancing - swaying his love back and forth listening to his old records. He is particularly fond of Peppinio Gagliardi records when it rains. They may steal a few kisses here and there but are perfectly content to go to sleep, just holding each other and keeping each other safe in their arms.

Hope this was nice and cozy!!

ahhh canary, these are everything ♡ some more thoughts under the cut for space reasons!

Secondo fireplace cuddles are something I didn't knew I needed in my life. I can see him getting some blankets and just cozy up on the floor in front of the fire, maybe add in some extra pillows for his poor old bones after a long day. He has so many stories to tell from his travels and years of clergy work. He's also a great listener if you want to share something of your own, very attentive if he wants to be. But if you're not up for chatting he would sit comfortably with you in silence, exchanging soft touches and affirmations as you listen to the crackling of the fire. He would also be the type to make sure you actually drink your tea while it's hot, just gentle but insistent reminders. With his love, he would not be shy to show his caring, romantic side at all.

And Copia ♡ I see why this is dear to you, it's a beautiful headcanon. I absolutely agree, he would love homemade meals, he swears he can taste the love you both generously poured in. Bonus points if it's homemade pasta, it's his ultimate comfort dish. Copia craves physical affection and I think his loving touches, even the most innocent ones, are such a beautiful way in which he shows you that he loves and cares for you. Dancing with him is such an intimate experience, the distant thunder rolling outside, insistent raindrops knocking at the window and the soft crackling hum of the record player in the background. You fall asleep to him still humming the tune you last listened to with his lips pressing to your temple.

these brought me great comfort, thank you so much, friend!! I love them ♡

[ghoulxh]

Satellite🛰️✨

Cardinal Copia & Reader

(2nd person POV)

You have been feeling lonely lately, and the Cardinal comes across you and makes you feel better.

Inspired by Satellite by Harry Styles Word Count:550

Nothing mature, just two friends having a chat with a few hugs laced in there. Also, some shitty Google-translated Italian thrown in there.

Not proofread. If you'd prefer to read this on Ao3

A/N-This is my first time posting something I’ve written. This is also my first time writing anything about Copia, so that may be why it might sound out of character at times. Please keep this in mind when reading! <3

You had always been very involved in the Ministry’s activities. You went to almost every event, you talked to a lot of people around the Ministry (even made friends with a few ghouls), and you attempted to never miss a day of work. Each of the Papas loved you, and they all agreed you are a delight to work with (aka you put up with their bullshit when they are in one of their moods. Mostly just Secondo and Terzo). Overall you were very happy with your life within the Ministry

However, you had been feeling more alone than ever these past few weeks, despite being surrounded by people at all hours of the day. You felt like you had no one to talk to, no one to lean on when you needed some support.

It’s not that you didn't have any friends, you did, but you felt like they all had their person. You had no one.

“Sorella, are you alright?” The voice was very recognizable. It was the Cardinal.

Only then you realized you were daydreaming, staring ahead, eyes filled with thoughts.

Your head snapped in the direction of the cardinal, your lips curling into a smile when he began to slowly step closer.

“I’m alright, Copia.”

"sei sicuro?"

You hummed and nodded.

"Respectfully, Sorella. I do not believe you." You scoffed silently. "I have been your friend for many years. I have never seen you like this before. You seem sad." He looked down towards the bench you were sitting on and you moved over, patting the spot next to you allowing him to sit beside you. "What is it?"

"I’m not sure. I’ve been feeling lonely lately.” You didn’t look at him as you spoke. You just looked ahead at the stained glass window ahead of you.

“Lonely?” he questioned.

“Yeah. I know it’s silly. There are people around me all the time yet I still feel lonely. How is that even possible?”

“Eh… well do not get me wrong, but you have been here for many years and I have never seen you with a sibling you can call a friend."

"Well... I don't have much time to make friends. I'm always working."

"Then you need to take a break. Take some time. Get to know the people around you. There are many people here at least one of them has to be a perfect match for you."

"But what if I can't find anyone who would want to be friends with me?" you asked, finally turning your head to look over at Copia. He reached over and took your hands in his very gently. You looked down at where he was holding your hands and smiled slightly.

“Then you have me. I’m here, right here.” 

“Could I have a hug?” you asked, your voice shaking a little bit. 

“Of course, tesoro.”

His arms wrapped around you in a comforting hug, and you smiled as your cheek pressed against the material of his red cassock. One of his hands slowly began rubbing circles into your back. While he hugged you he continued to reassure you that he was there for you should you ever need anything.

“Thank you, Copia,” you said as you pulled away from the embrace.

“Anytime.” 

Thank you so much for reading this if you made it all the way to the end!

Please consider reblogging! It’s free, and it would really support my work! 🤍

[dearlymrme]

Gotta Catch Them... (Terzo)

Summary: The headcanons nobody asked for that I'm gonna do anyway. What are the Papa's Pokémon?

I threw in this little bit. Every Papa has what can be called their 'mascot' Pokémon. The one present in all the interviews and magazine covers, and making stage appearances. Their starters are not necessarily their mascots, simply which on their team best represents them.

Also, every Papa has become a Papa in more way than one. In an effort to better prepare them for progeny, they are given an egg that hatches into a pre-evolved form. Can't let his Prime Mover do all the work. It's also to instill this idea of paternity as more than just status to the members of the church.

What happened to Papa's Pokémon after their death? The rumors are they were donated to the Clergy or simply just released. They could be sitting on a shelf in the crypt with their respective Papa's bodies. I can tell you one thing. They all put up a fight.

Terzo keeps a lot of his Pokémon out of their Pokeballs. Lycanroc and Pikachu are extremely high energy and in constant need to run around. Honchkrow runs his own mafia and has responsibilities. Delcatty does what she wants when she wants, and there is no way he would deny his beautiful Roserade a chance to sun.

Starter. After Secondo brought home an injured Houndour and nursing him back to health, Terzo proceeded to beg for his own puppy. A trip to the local shelter later, and he had Rockruff. Terzo missed the days when they were young and played nearly every day. His 'puppy' does not run as much as he used to but won't turn down a chance to play fetch with Terzo. The lycan is permanently banned from the garden for digging up the Lilies. A big sign of struggle on the day of Terzo's murder, as most of the wall had to be replaced.

Always out of its Pokeball and a very naughty personality. Part of his prankster-like nature was from Terzo, and the other half was from Aether. He has jagged black fur at the tips of his ears and a clip-on earing on his left. The mascot of Terzo's reign as Papa. Find this guy normally chilling on Terzo's shoulder or atop his head. He is strictly monitored. elsewise, you'll catch him nibbling on band equipment wires.

Big Boss lives in the rafters of the Abbey's spire and commands the Murkrow of the city. He is very territorial of his nest, even to Terzo, with the amount of shinies he hoards. He keeps the good stuff for himself, but it is known for gifting Terzo with the most roundest of rocks.

Primadonna. She is very gentle and stalks the hallways so quietly she may as well be a ghost type. Has her own thing going on, and it seems to revolve around the drama of the Abbey. Where there is scandalous gossip, she's found listening with keen eyes and perked ears.

She's a quiet type but very protective. Whether or not she divined Terzo's future one day is unknown, but there were a few days' time before Terzo's murder that she remained out of her ball. In her distraction of trying to protect him, she failed to protect herself.

His baby, his precious, his beautiful rose. Imagine his surprise when he won the lottery and hatched a shiny. The Clergy patted themselves on the back. They took it as a sign that Terzo would lead the Clergy to greatness, and he did. She can often be found in the garden chatting with Primo's Florges. Terzo absolutely loves how she smells and compliments her every day. She may or may not have had a crush on her master.

[chiyohsfistyourface]

All Chiyoh Scenes in Hannibal

This is mostly a resource for me and my writing but just in case anyone else wants to use it I am posting this here. Exactly what it says at the top, all Chiyoh scenes and dialogue under the cut. 

First Appearance: Secondo 3.03 

We first meets Chiyoh when Will is staring at her through Binoculars like an absolute stalker at Castle Lecter. She’s plucking a pheasant and cooking and it reminds Will of Hannibal. She then ends up leading Will to a basement where he goes in and finds the Prisoner. 

Just cause I haven’t seen one, I will translate what he says here:

CAGED MAN (O.S.): Kas ten? Labas? (Who’s there? Hello? )

Will approaches, illuminating the cage's contents: a CAGED MAN, wan, covered in matted hair. He's tall and thin. Could be 40, could be 70. Hard to tell. He holds a cooked pheasant, mid-meal. The juices dampen his beard.

CAGED MAN (CONT’D): Labas? (Hello?)

Will stays quiet as the man moves to the front of the cage, his face suddenly ghoulish in the flashlight. The bars are decorated with handmade trinkets and dolls made of bird bones, snail shells and twine. A bucket of shit in the corner. This man has been in here for years.

CAGED MAN (CONT’D) (begging): Atsiliepk, kalbek prasau, prasau, prasau. (Answer me, speak, please, please, please)

The man starts to cry. They seem to be tears of relief.

CAGED MAN (CONT’D): Ji su manimi nekalba. Ji niekada su manimi nekalba! Prasau! (She does not talk to me. She never talks to me. I beg you)

He grows frustrated, desperate for something, but Will doesn't know what.

CAGED MAN (CONT’D): Kalbek! Kalbek! Kalbek! (Speak, Speak, Speak)

Suddenly, a HIGH-POWERED BEAM hits Will in the face. Blinding him. His hands come to his face. The caged man rushes to hide in the shadows of his cell.

Chiyoh stands behind the light, holding it against the barrel of her shotgun; a shadow among shadows.

CHIYOH: You're upsetting him.

Then, Chiyoh and Will begin to chat  

HOT WHITE LIGHT

It FLARES THE CAMERA, glancing over tips of its tentacles flex and turn

a snail, the eyes on the away, finally finding...

WILL GRAHAM Eyes shaded from the light piercing INT. CASTLE LECTER - BASEMENT - NIGHT

The shotgun is leveled at Will, his back to the cage. The caged man cowers. Chiyoh's eyes fixed to Will's. Anger and also exhaustion, and maybe even relief. The constant, distant flowing of water provides a surreal HUM.

CHIYOH: You're trespassing.

WILL GRAHAM: I'm a friend of Hannibal's.

The shotgun barrel dips slightly, either in hesitation or relief.

CHIYOH: He sent you?

WILL GRAHAM (shakes his head): I'm looking for him. 

Her barrel rises.

WILL GRAHAM (CONT’D): My name is Will Graham. I'm unarmed. May I lower my arms?

Will begins to lower his arms; she indicates with her barrel to keep them up where he had them.

CHIYOH: This trigger has a three-pound pull. I'm holding two of it. 

Will's arms slowly regain their lost height.

CAGED MAN: Atsiliepk, kalbek prasau. (Answer, speak please.)

WILL GRAHAM: What's he saying?

CHIYOH: He wants you to look at him, speak to him, but you're not going to.

WILL GRAHAM: You've cast aside the social graces normally afforded to human beings.

CHIYOH: He's cast them aside. All he is allowed is the sound of water. It's what the unborn hear, it's their last memory of peace.

She moves around Will with her light and shotgun, and points him back up the stairs. Will doesn't move.

WILL GRAHAM: You're keeping him like an animal.

CHIYOH: I wouldn't do this to an animal. There's room in there for two.

OFF that not-so-veiled threat...

FROM BLACK

CUT TO BLACK.

CAMERA PULLS OUT of the barrel of Chiyoh's shotgun to reveal Chiyoh marching toward CAMERA. CAMERA CONTINUES TO PULL BACK to reveal she is marching Will out the door of:

EXT. LECTER ESTATE - CASTLE LECTER - NIGHT As Will exits the castle, Chiyoh a safe distance behind him:

WILL GRAHAM: What did he do?

The question forces images into Chiyoh's mind she would much rather not think about. Finally:

CHIYOH: He ate her.

WILL GRAHAM: Mischa.

Chiyoh reacts, hearing the name aloud. Will stops marching. 

WILL GRAHAM: How long has he been your prisoner?

CHIYOH: We've been each other's prisoner for a very long time. The weight of that gives Will pause.

WILL GRAHAM: How ever did you find yourself in this situation? Will turns to face Chiyoh and her gun, his arms still raised.

CHIYOH: The question applies to both of us.

WILL GRAHAM: And the answer's probably the same. What's your name?

CHIYOH: Chiyoh. How do you know Hannibal?

WILL GRAHAM: One could argue, intimately.

CHIYOH: Nakama? It's the Japanese word for a very close friend, someone you share with.

Will considers the complexities of friendship with Hannibal.

WILL GRAHAM: Yes, we were nakama. Last time I saw him, he left me with a smile. 

With one hand, he carefully lifts up his shirt, revealing his ABDOMINAL SCAR, its corners upturned in a vague smile.

He slowly lowers his arms; her gun remains pointed.

CHIYOH: All sorrows can be borne if you put them in a story. Tell me a story.

Then it cuts away to Hannibal and Bedelia as Will tells the story. When it comes back Will and Chiyoh are still talking

WILL GRAHAM: Our minds can concoct all sorts of scenarios when we don't want to believe something. We construct fairy tales. And we accept them.

CHIYOH: I accept what Hannibal has done. I understand why he's done it.

WILL GRAHAM: Mischa doesn't explain Hannibal. She doesn't quantify what he does.

CHIYOH: He does what was done to her.

WILL GRAHAM: How do you know it was your prisoner who killed Mischa?

CHIYOH: Hannibal told me he did.

As the words leave her mouth, she hears how damning they are.

CHIYOH (CONT’D): Hannibal took someone from you, are you here to take someone from him? 

The thought had crossed Will's mind.

WILL GRAHAM: I've forgiven him his trespasses, as he's forgiven me. 

CHIYOH: You're nakama. Aren't you alike? 

Will chews on that question, then:

WILL GRAHAM: If I were like Hannibal, I would've killed you already. Cooked you, ate you and fed what was left of you to him. It's what he would do.

CHIYOH: You've given that some thought.

WILL GRAHAM: Do you know where he is?

CHIYOH: Why are you looking for him after he left you with a smile?

Will glances down at his abdomen, unconsciously.

WILL GRAHAM: I've never known myself as well as I know myself when I'm with him. She considers that, recognizing the feeling.

CHIYOH: You won't find Hannibal here. There are places on these grounds he cannot safely go. Bad memories.

WILL GRAHAM: Memories lead to more memories. What do these grounds hold for you?

CHIYOH: Hannibal wanted to kill that man for what he did to Mischa. I wouldn't let him take his life, so Hannibal left his life with me. If I turned him in, he'd go free. If I let him go... he would kill me. Wouldn't you?

Will doesn't respond.

CHIYOH (CONT’D): The easiest path was to kill him.

WILL GRAHAM: Why didn't you?

CHIYOH: Because Hannibal wanted me to.

WILL GRAHAM: He was curious if you would kill. I imagine he still is.

Then, of course, Will the Bitch releases the prisoner and I’m just going to cut the two scenes into one and ignore the cutaway

CAMERA PULLS Chiyoh down the stairs. Bag over one arm, shotgun tucked under the other, she descends into --

THE BASEMENT.

CONTINUE PULLING her toward the cage behind us. We assume it's empty, but she doesn't react. As Chiyoh pushes past CAMERA, we REVERSE to reveal --

THE CAGED MAN BACK IN HIS CAGE! She leans her shotgun against the wall.

Moves to the cage and slides the parchment package through a slot in the door, all as though nothing's changed. But it has...

The caged man GRABS HER WRIST.

Chiyoh looks him in the eyes, the first time she's done so in twenty-five years. His rage intensifies. Still holding his gaze, she doesn't notice --

THE LOCK -- undone.

And the man SLAMS the unlocked door into her face with a loud, metallic BAM.

Chiyoh crumples back, scattering bottles of wine, stunned. CHIYOH'S POV

Blurred. Dazed. Bottles of wine hit the ground and SHATTER SPECTACULARLY IN SLOW MOTION as the caged man descends on her. Reaching for her throat.

NORMAL MOTION as Chiyoh sputters and gasps, grabbing at his hands, which tighten around her throat. She scratches at his face, but it's useless; his matted beard may as well be armor.

Chiyoh twists and turns, trying to gain leverage, but he has her well pinned. She gasps for breath.

CHIYOH'S POV

Losing consciousness, she uses her last bit of strength to dig her nails into the caged man's throat.

Her face is bulging and near blue, but still she reaches. Her eyes twisted, looking OUT OF FRAME.

The man senses she's almost finished, bears down.

CAGED MAN (subtitled: "Speak to me.") Atsiliepk, kalbek.

Then a moment of stillness washes over Chiyoh as she stares deep into her killer's eyes -- not as his victim, but as his guilty tormentor. She mutters through an airless whisper:

CHIYOH: I'm sorry.

She lets go of him, giving in. CLOSE ON HER HAND It slides off of the caged man, onto the ground, limp. ON CHIYOH As she appears to be surrendering to her death as we...

ON CHIYOH

She's covered in blood, staring dead-eyed. An eerie, sad moment, then the BLOOD LIFTS off Chiyoh in SLOW REVERSE MOTION, like raindrops returning to the sky.

CAMERA follows the blood into the caged man's neck as the GEYSER IS STOPPED by Chiyoh's hand -- holding a JAGGED PHEASANT BONE, she REVERSE JAMS it into the caged man's neck.

He rears back; Chiyoh rolls on top of him.

She watches as he clutches his throat, blood pooling between his fingers around the bone.

ON CHIYOH

Caged man's hands grasp the bone to remove it and, making a decision, Chiyoh covers his hands with her own. Holds the bone in place.

Panic fills his eyes and his hands struggle against hers.

Now resolute to what needs to be done, Chiyoh puts her weight to the bone. And slowly, despite the caged man's efforts, she forces it ever deeper.

BLOOD GURGLES in his throat. Blood spurts from the hollow end of the broken bone.

In one last burst of strength, the caged man rolls on top of Chiyoh, using his weight to squeeze the life out of her, until she pulls the jagged pheasant bone out of his neck, which spews a GEYSER OF BLOOD.

ON CHIYOH

She does what she has always resisted and deliberately kills the caged man. He slumps and falls off her.

She lies still for a moment, then lets out a SCREAM. 

CAMERA finds Will reacting as Chiyoh's SCREAM rings.

Chiyoh sits on the floor opposite. Staring at his body.

Will Graham comes down the stairs and stops as he sees the scene within -- SHOCKED.

CHIYOH: You did this. You set him free.

WILL GRAHAM: You were who I wanted to set free.

CHIYOH: You said Hannibal was curious if I would kill. You were curious, too. He was, if he is honest with himself.

WILL GRAHAM: I didn't want this.

CHIYOH: Yes, you did. You were doing what he does. He'd be proud of you. His nakama.

WILL GRAHAM: Did you know? Some part of you? At some level... you knew.

She studies him -- is he asking from experience?

CHIYOH: I traded feeling frightened for feeling righteous.

Will picks up an unbroken bottle of wine, stabs a knife in the cork and pulls it out, offering the bottle to Chiyoh. She takes it and takes a tentative sip.

WILL GRAHAM: He created a story out of events that only he experienced. "All sorrows can be borne if you put them in a story."

She hands the bottle back to Will who takes a swig.

CHIYOH: I never knew Mischa. I only knew what Hannibal told me about her. What he told me was done to her. He wasn't lying about that, was he? 

WILL GRAHAM: No. 

CHIYOH: We swore promises on objects, pledges at the altar and a blood oath, pricking our fingers. For Mischa. "M" is for Mischa.

Will watches her reel from the impact of what she's done.

She moves across the room and takes up her shotgun. A tense moment as she might turn it on Will. Then:

CHIYOH (CONT’D): I'll help you find him.

WILL GRAHAM: Why would you help me?

CHIYOH: I have no reason to stay here. Not anymore. You saw to that.

The next time we see Chiyoh is in 3.05 Cotorno when she’s in the train with Will on the way to Italy 

They sit opposite one another in a sleeper cabin -- two chairs beside the window with a table, bunk beds and a small bathroom. Old wood. A taste of a Europe from days gone by. The train's RATTLE and CLACK is a constant background.

CHIYOH (V.O.): On still evenings, when the air wasdamp after a rain, we played a game. Hannibal would burn all kinds of barks and incense for me to identify by scent alone. He was charming the way a cub is charming, a small cub that grows up to be like one of the big cats.

WILL GRAHAM: One you can't play with later.

CHIYOH: The day I met Hannibal, he was an orphan. I was meant to meet him with his sister, but he was alone.

WILL GRAHAM: How did you meet him?

CHIYOH: I was his aunt's attendant. My parents sent me to learn from Lady Murasaki when I was just a girl. I learned from Hannibal, too. He had all the wisdom in miniature.

WILL GRAHAM: He comes in the guise of a mentor, but it's distress that excites him.

CHIYOH: I'm not in distress.

WILL GRAHAM: Not anymore. You had a strict rule about taking life and you broke it. Is it on your mind? Do you see killing him over and over?

CHIYOH: No. I see you.How do you know Hannibal's in Florence?

WILL GRAHAM: Botticelli.

Will hands her an Uffizi Gallery POSTCARD of the Primavera.

CHIYOH: When we find him, I will have steady hands and a slow heart. Will you?

Will offers a faint smile, glances out the window. She stares at him a moment, then glances outside herself.

CHIYOH: I've never been to Italy. I never expected to. Birds eat thousands of snails every day. Some of those snails survive digestion and emerge to find they've traveled the world.

WILL GRAHAM: In the belly of the beast.

Then, later at night while Will is in bed Chiyoh and him have another conversation

WILL GRAHAM: Do you want me to talk so you don't have to? Or would you rather I not talk at all? Can talk or not talk.

CHIYOH: Are we obligated to talk?

WILL GRAHAM: No

CHIYOH: Strange to talk so much. Not used to hearing voices outside my head.

WILL GRAHAM: I hear voices from all directions.

CHIYOH: I become aware of words no one is saying. Words that spoke to me in the gnawing sameness of my days.

WILL GRAHAM: In the gnawing sameness of your days, did you look at the shape of things? At what you were becoming?

CHIYOH: I wasn't becoming anything. I was standing still. Exactly where he left me standing. Like taxidermy.

WILL GRAHAM: Hollowed out and filled with something else.

CHIYOH: Not something else. I'm not as malleable as you are. You have a taste for it now.

WILL GRAHAM: A taste for what?

CHIYOH: Harm. 

WILL GRAHAM: Do you?

CHIYOH: I was violent when it was the right thing to do, when I was obliged to do it. But I think you like it.

WILL GRAHAM: Violence can be a powerful means to regulate someone's behavior.

CHIYOH: Are you regulating Hannibal's behavior or is he regulating yours?

WILL GRAHAM: We afforded each other an experience we may not otherwise have had.

CHIYOH: You've afforded me an experience I would not otherwise have had. If you don't kill him, you're afraid you're going to become him.

WILL GRAHAM: Yes. 

CHIYOH: There are means of influence other than violence.

Then we have the famous “yeet Will from the train scene

Chiyoh stands alone, braced against the railing, staring out into the darkness unfurling behind the train. Will watches Chiyoh from inside the caboose a moment, then joins her.

The wind whips at them both.

CHIYOH: I like the night. It's more than a period of time; it's another place. It's different from where we are during the day.

WILL GRAHAM: We're different from who we are during the day. Little more hidden, little less seen.

CHIYOH: When life is most like a dream.

Will stares at her a moment, studying her.

WILL GRAHAM: Why are you searching for him? What are you hoping to find?

CHIYOH: I'm not searching for Hannibal. I know exactly where he is.

WILL GRAHAM: Is he in Florence?

CHIYOH: Yes.

WILL GRAHAM: Why didn't you tell me you knew?

CHIYOH: I told you there are means of influence other than violence.

She kisses Will tenderly on the lips, taking his breath away.

CHIYOH: But violence is what you understand.

And with that, Chiyoh shoves Will violently over the railing, sending him ass over teakettle into the night.

Chiyoh takes a deep breath and lets it go and she begins to RECEDE AWAY FROM CAMERA as the train pulls her into darkness.

This is the last time we see Chiyoh in Cotorno, but we see her again in 3.06 Dolce! This is a good one because she meets Bedelia, shoots Will and briefly meets Jack.

First up: Meeting Bedelia

Bedelia, seated in front of the unrolled leather bag and its contents, wraps surgical tubing around her forearm, pulling it taught to create a bulging vein.

With one end of the surgical tubing in her teeth, she picks up her needle and ampoule, but when she looks up, she starts.

CHIYOH -- Stands in the apartment, regarding Bedelia with curiosity, her rifle resting on her hip.

ON BEDELIA

Without pulling the plunger to draw fluid from the ampoule, she carefully removes the needle and sets it down.

BEDELIA DU MAURIER: You must be looking for Hannibal Lecter. One of his patients?

CHIYOH: No, not a patient. Where is he?

BEDELIA DU MAURIER: Gone. Seeing how you let yourself in, I hope it's not too forward to ask, who the hell are you?

CHIYOH: Family.

BEDELIA DU MAURIER: Ah. You've come all the way from home.

CHIYOH: Who are you?

BEDELIA DU MAURIER I'm his psychiatrist.

Chiyoh glances at the ampoule and needle.

BEDELIA DU MAURIER: Medicinal purposes.

Chiyoh studies Bedelia, eyes narrowing.

CHIYOH:You're like his bird. I'm his bird, too. He puts us in cages to see what we'll do.

BEDELIA DU MAURIER: Fly away or dash ourselves dead against the bars.

CHIYOH: You haven't flown away.

BEDELIA DU MAURIER: You're flying right toward him. How does he inspire such devotion?

CHIYOH: You're his psychiatrist.

BEDELIA DU MAURIER: You could add to what I've learned in my experience with him, and from the mute postures of the dead. Were you there? Did you watch as the beast within him turned from the teat and entered the world?

CHIYOH: I met the beast and I saw him grow. Someone wants to kill him.

BEDELIA DU MAURIER: More than one someone, I'd say.What do you want?

CHIYOH: I want to cage him.

That makes Bedelia smile.

BEDELIA DU MAURIER: I thought Will Graham was Hannibal's biggest mistake. But I have to wonder if it isn't you. Now, if you'll excuse me, it's time for me to take my medicine.

I have a lot of thoughts about this scene, but that is for another post and another analysis. For now, onto shooting Will 

Will and Hannibal emerge from the museum, out into the bustling courtyard.

A TELESCOPIC RIFLE SIGHT FROM THE ROOF Finding Hannibal in its crosshairs...

CUT TO: EXT. UFFIZI GALLERY - ROOF - DAY

CLOSE-UP -- the rifle's silenced barrel, its opening resembling the entrance to a dark tunnel pregnant with danger.

CLOSE-UP -- a gloved finger twitching on the trigger. Reveal it belongs to Chiyoh. HER POV THROUGH THE TELESCOPIC SIGHT Deliberately moving from Hannibal to Will.

BACK TO CHIYOH As she pulls the trigger and FIRES. Causing a FLOCK OF PIGEONS to burst into frightened flight...

CUT TO:

EXT. UFFIZI GALLERY - COURTYARD - DAY As WILL IS HIT IN THE SHOULDER.

And is thrown off balance against Hannibal who catches him. Holds him up as if Will is drunk or faint. Will's blade falls from his hand and Hannibal picks it up.

Hannibal looks around quickly and then throws an arm around Will, dazed and bleeding, and quickly hustles him though the courtyard toward the riverfront.

EXT. UFFIZI GALLERY - ROOF - DAY Chiyoh takes a moment to consider what she has done.

Then Chiyoh meets Jack going up to Sogliato’s 

Jack enters through the front door.

Checking a directory displayed on the wall, he finds the name "SOGLIATO -- 7B."

Then he gets into an elevator.

INT. SOGLIATO'S APARTMENT BUILDING - ELEVATOR - NIGHT

Jack presses the button marked "7."

As the door begins to slide shut, a hand suddenly reaches in to stop it.

CHIYOH

Steps into the elevator with her rifle case, standing right beside Jack, both of them looking straight ahead.

The door closes again. Chiyoh reaches to press "7," realizing it's already pushed. She glances surreptitiously at Jack.

The elevator LURCHES upward. Jack looks at her.

Chiyoh looks at Jack. Sees the gun under his coat. AN OVERHEAD SHOT Looking straight down at Jack and Chiyoh.

CUT TO: INT. SOGLIATO'S APARTMENT BUILDING - HALLWAY/ELEVATOR - NIGHT

A cheerful DING heralds its arrival.

The door opens. Jack holds it open for Chiyoh who reluctantly walks out. Jack watches her go. He allows the elevator door to close and follows Chiyoh.

She moves down the hall and, as she approaches the stairway landing, she pauses. She glances back at Jack.

CHIYOH: Wrong floor.

Chiyoh casually descends the stairs, aware that Jack is watching her suspiciously. He considers a moment, then continues down the hall.

The final time we see Chiyoh is in 3.07 Digestivo 

The first scene she’s in she helps Jack when Mason’s people come to kidnap Will and kill Jack:

JACK CRAWFORD: Arrivederci.

The two remaining cops move toward Jack. The lead cop picks

up the bone saw. It WHINES in his hand.

ON JACK -- immobile -- at their mercy. The other cop holds his head.

Through the window -- a GLINT OF LIGHT makes Jack squint. CRACK!

A hole appears in the window, and the cop holding Jack takes a bullet in the head and drops.

CRACK, CRACK!

The lead cop takes one in the shoulder and, as it spins him, another one in the head.

The bone saw drops, WHINING and VIBRATING onto the table, now right in front of Jack.

ON JACK, two dead cops on the floor -- their blood splashed on his face. His eyes on the bone saw BUZZING ever closer to the table's edge and his lap...

CLOSE ON the starred bullet holes in the window. CAMERA pushes through a hole to find:

EXT. ROOFTOP - NIGHT

CHIYOH stands to steady her

Chiyoh lowers

with her foot on the ledge, bracing her elbow aim. Her eye huge in the end of the scope.

CHIYOH'S BACK

CAMERA follows her into: the rifle.

TIME CUT TO:

CAMERA moves around Chiyoh to find Jack Crawford, head bowed. The floor CREAKS and he glances up over his brow.

JACK CRAWFORD Wrong floor.

Chiyoh switches off the bone saw.

JACK CRAWFORD (CONT’D) Would you come over here and pull this needle out of my arm?

CHIYOH: Where did they take them?

JACK CRAWFORD: Did you do this?

CHIYOH: Of course.

JACK CRAWFORD: Appreciate it. May I ask why?

CHIYOH: Why wouldn't I? I ought to. I should. Therefore, I must. (then) You're sitting at Hannibal's table. You know him. You know Will.

JACK CRAWFORD: I know them. They are identically different, Hannibal and Will.

CHIYOH :Where did they take them?

Jack studies her a moment, then:

JACK CRAWFORD: They are most likely taking them to the U.S. To Maryland. I can even give you an address... once you pull this needle out of my arm.

He indicates where the drugs are still flowing into his body. Chiyoh does not move.

CHIYOH: Once I pull this needle out of your arm... then what?

JACK CRAWFORD: My "then what" consists of getting out of Florence alive now that I'm supposed to be dead. That leaves me in no position to stop whatever it is you're intending to start.

Chiyoh holds Jack's gaze and then pulls out his IV.

CHIYOH: Where?

JACK CRAWFORD: Muskrat Farm. The Verger estate near the Susquehanna River in northern Maryland.

Chiyoh stoops and frisks the dead Italian police officer on the ground until she finds his gun. She places it on the table in front of Jack Crawford and exits.

Then Chiyoh goes to Virginia to do some truly fantastic shooting

Out of the shadows behind Hannibal, two Verger bodyguards appear. Moving swiftly upon him, raising their RIFLES to fire --

ON HANNIBAL -- the two bodyguards looming on either shoulder. PFFT! PFFT!

Both of their heads fly backward as a red mist EXPLODES from them and they crumple to the ground.

REVERSE AT SPEED to find -- CHIYOH

In the bough of a large tree, looking down the sights of her hunting rifle.

Hannibal Lecter now fixed firmly in her sights...

Then there is the conversation between Chiyoh and Hannibal and even though it’s short, I absolutely love this conversation. 

Chiyoh stands on the porch alone, her rifle resting in the crook of her arm. After a contemplative moment, Hannibal emerges through the front door.

HANNIBAL: Will you go home? Can you go home?

CHIYOH: No more than you can.

HANNIBAL: We all form frameworks from our early experiences through which later perceptions are understood.

CHIYOH: Perceptions are understood when you look harder. I've looked into you. I thought you should be caged.

HANNIBAL: Would you watch over me?

CHIYOH: I will watch over you. Not in a cage. Some beasts shouldn't be caged.

HANNIBAL: Your obsessive and successful hunt, whose plight was it driven by? Mine? Will Graham's? Yours?

CHIYOH: Mischa's. Did you eat her?

HANNIBAL: Yes, but I did not kill her.

Chiyoh breathes a sigh of relief.

HANNIBAL (CONT’D) One quality in a person doesn't rule out any other quality. They can exist side by side, good and terrible. Socrates said it better.

CHIYOH: I see the best of you and the worst with steady hands and a slow heart.

HANNIBAL: The most stable elements, Chiyoh, appear in the middle of the periodic table, roughly between iron and silver. Between iron and silver. I think that is appropriate for you.

OFF Chiyoh studying Hannibal, not taking her guard down.

Then the final time we see Chiyoh she has her Rifle on Hannibal as he is captured by the FBI. 

Might do some analysis of these scenes later but for now I am just dumping these scenes so I have them. 

[go-go-devil]

Autistic Papa I Headcanon

Papa Emeritus I is autistic.

As a child, he and everyone around him were entirely unaware of the fact that he was born neurodivergent. From what his father Nihil could gather, Primo was nothing more than a quiet boy with a bright mind. Perfect to mold into his heir as Papa! Sure his firstborn may have been a bit too aloof for his liking, not to mention those irritating hand gestures he kept doing in public or those seemingly random “tantrums” he’d have every now and then, but nothing a little encouragement and discipline can’t solve, right? Despite his father’s infinite wisdom, however, Primo knew even then that he was fundamentally different from his peers.

It was when Primo was in his early teens that he was finally able to convince his father that his behaviors were not a means of intentionally “acting out,” prompting Nihil to call in a specialist to give him a proper diagnosis for his deviant behavior. Fortunately, the doctors were able to correctly diagnose him as having autism.

Unfortunately, this was also the 1960’s, a time where most neurotypicals thought that any divergence from their way of thinking was an inherent weakness, prompting the doctors to describe Primo’s condition as “mental r-tardation” that must be “cured.” Primo was terrifyingly close to being sent to a mental institution by the doctors’ request, but fortunately Nihil decided against it after a further convincing not to from Sister Imperator of all people (who at the time was not resentful of Primo’s existence and had her own reasons to distrust the medical industry of the time).

Even despite such a traumatizing experience, Primo did not vow to hide his condition the way most autistics were forced to at the time. His isolation within the abbey combined with his status as Nihil’s heir to the papacy gave him a unique kind of protection from a lot of the ableism he could have potentially faced throughout his life. He wouldn’t bring up his autism to anyone unless they specifically asked him about it, but he did always make sure stim whenever he could get away with it as well asserting his need to create the right kind of schedule to complete his work most efficiently. It wasn’t always easy, but Primo at least had his own wits and intelligence to help protect him alongside the social support of his little brothers, who held no animosity over what made him “different” from them.

All right, now that we got the depressing backstory out of the way, allow me to get to the good shit and list off some quirks that arise from his autism!

Primo’s autism makes him a natural introvert; he doesn’t often feel the desire to go up and talk to people he’s not very familiar with and will sometimes go out of his way to avoid being noticed by others

On the other hand, if someone is close to him, than he can chat with them all day if he feels like it or simply listen to them talk about their interests

LOVES to infodump about his passions whenever he can get away with it (and he does have to be careful, his musing can go on for hours if unchecked)

He’s incredibly sarcastic on his own, but has trouble picking up on it when it’s directed at him 

Doesn’t flap his hands that much; he stims primarily through rocking or hand gestures like flicking his wrist or stretching out his arms, but also enjoys the tactile stim of fidgeting with something (usual the fabric of his own clothes)

While he rarely has meltdowns anymore in his old age, he is still prone to shutdowns, especially if he’s forced to be in a crowded room for too long or if his mind is overwhelming itself with too many intrusive thoughts; when this happens he’ll just vacantly stare into space and become semi-nonverbal, sometimes while fidgeting with his clothes

Whenever he did have meltdowns, he’d always make sure to isolate himself the best he can because they’re nothing short of awful; he’d cry, curse himself, curse anyone else in the room with him, scratch himself up, and just generally be in a state of turmoil until he calmed down 

Secondo was the only one in the abbey who had the tenacity to successfully weather through the violent portion of his meltdowns, thus making him the best person for him to go to for support both then and now

Primo has several special interests; besides his devotion to Satanism, he also has an undying love for gardening + botany in general, painting, deep-sea creatures, and playing table games (primarily pool, backgammon, and foosball)

Oh yeah, and he’s also highly-skilled at math; normally I won’t include such a stereotyped trait for an autistic headcanon, but it turns out that this is actually fucking canon, and thus I cannot ignore it

[katekyo-hitman-aus]

Self Insert!Nana

When Masami died, it was a tragedy, but she was quickly forgotten. She wandered around, craving for human contact only to pass through each body in her beloved city. 

The killer was quickly caught but she never thought it’d be her own kin. Her brother killed her and her parents committed suicide right after her death had appeared on the news. Her brother was supported by her auntie who convinced both parents to commit suicide. Masami saw everything. Her heart broke once they both agreed and their bodies were quickly buried by everyone. 

She wept for two weeks straight, and then the rumors about this new ghost appeared instantly, making the city even busier. At least the tourists tried to appease her by offering her flowers. She tried to make friends with the dead but they were all busy staring at the sky. She didn’t get it. She stared at the sky in frustration.

What do I do now? Masami felt so so tired.

The next thing she knew, phantom hands grabbed her wrists and shoulders, pulling her into a concrete sidewalk. She struggled to free herself but did it with flames???  

Her hands were on fire. Blue fucking fire. She panicked and tried to calm down but a man with a giant cloak and blond hair smiled amiably at her and grabbed her hand. She gulped.

“Hello.”

“Hello?” Masami looked at her surroundings, feeling nostalgic. Wasn’t it the mafia manga??

“Yes it is.” the man answered her voiced question. “You’re in my world. Tsunayoshi hasn’t been born yet.”

Tsunayoshi?

She hasn’t heard of the name since high school- her eyes blink in surprise. “Is this the..mafia?" 

"Yes.” Multiple dissembodied voices screamed in the sky. The voices got louder. “You have been reborn as one of the destined.”

Masami gaped. She frowned, “Who am I?”

“That we can not tell. If so, then we’d ruin the tale of Vongola.”

“Then you’re all Vongola Primo, Secondo, and etc? Oh of..course.” Masami groaned. Curse her luck. She had the worst luck in university. Her mind flashes back to when her brother teased her and said he was surprised she survived this long. Middle school. He was adorable~!

Too bad she got murdered by her little brother. She puffed her cheeks, looking down.

A man with short white hair appeared, greeting her in a deep voice. “Yo! I’m Kawahira!” Masami was way confused but Kawahira could’ve been a mist, she supposed.

She saw how Kawahira twitched and she quickly bowed, introducing herself.

“Now that introductions are over, your mission is to make Katekyo Hitman Reborn more interesting! Or not. You’re going to be reborn and you can’t change that Masami-channnn~”

Masami only nodded, signs of irritation clear on her face as she was gently knocked out by drugs. She cried inwardly, opening her eyes rapidly.

It hurt! She must’ve been just born. The cold lights made her wail even more as pale arms carried her in a blanket.

Stupid Kawahira.

5 years later, Yashida Nako weakly coughed and hit her crazy father in the face with a good arm and a toy gun. 

“Nako-kun! You’re still bad at this! Blehhhhh-oUCH! SHE GOT ME IN THE EYEEEEEE!” Her father weeped like crazy, her mother popping out from the ground with a first aid kit. Nako blankly stared at the event before hysterically laughing. 

Uncle Tokomi thoughtfully glanced at Nako, wondering if she needed a sanity check up. Nako instantly shut up and glared at Uncle. Uncle sheepishly grinned and lifted the girl up

Nako simply enjoyed life, throwing herself into something related to defense. A toy gun that was painted green, the Masami part of her lovingly pretended it was Leon and that she was Reborn. 

Her mother cooed at her huge fedora which featured her doe yellow eyes. Masami did look up to Reborn, no matter how weird Reborn was, and she was naturally born with honey yellow eyes. Nako madly cackled, which sounded like angel’s laughter in a baby suit.

Her father guffawed, almost cursing when he realized he had to go to work. Nako frowned as her mother said good bye to her father. Unfortunately, she still had busy parents who had to work due to Japan’s work ethics.

She is grateful her family didn’t live in a farm like her Old family. It was a life full of hives chasing her thanks to the move in family that thought no one lived right next to them and swatted the nest all the way in the middle of Masami’s treehouse. 

Nako pouted cutely as her Mama took away the green gun. “Mama!” She cried. “I want my toy backkkkkkkk!”

Mama groaned playfully, flicking Nako in the forehead. Nako owlishly looked at her from the carpeted ground. “Mama?”

“Take your medicine then I’ll give you your toy back!” Mama grinned, lifting Nako into her lap. Nako fidgeted but gave into the disgusting medicine. Sometimes Nako wished she was normal.

She smiled once Mama gave her the green gun and she made loud noises near her mama’s ears. Her mama was slightly surprised but Nako quickly climbed out of her lap, looking for Uncle.

“Uncle! Uncle!”

“OompH-” Uncle stares at her in surprise, smiling kindly at her. “Yes?”

“Can we get more gu-gundos?” Nako hopes it’s a yes.

Nako looks at him in hopes but is slightly curious about his expression. He looks exasperated at her question and a little wary. 

“Why?” The kind him comes back. “Didn’t we get you that toy gun a long time ago? Isn’t it pretty important?”

Nako thinks about it and tears up but insists on a new toy gun. “This one’s gon be my special one! I want to get better! Maybe it’ll come in handy!" 

Uncle grins, taking out a plastic white gun with a grey handle and a bright yellow trigger. Nako notices it looks a lot more… compact. It’s cold and shiny, compared to her smaller green gun.

She practices until her hand starts to twitch for an actual gun, much to her horror. Masami didn’t even think of any type of harming people in her last life.

Masami in her dreams realizes that she is a Yashida. She must protect herself before anyone in her family kills her. She remembers her death that day so vividly, the younger side of Masako-Nako, cries and cries in front of her parents randomly, so glad she didn’t have a little brother. 

She takes things more seriously. Her past life as Masako blurs between this life and her past. The only thing she knows now is how to take medicine and aim plastic bullets at intruders.

Now that Nako is 10, she realizes that her mother is sometimes a lot more tense than when she was younger. Her uncle appears only to give her more plastic ammo and her father was in the hospital. Her father doesn’t say hello to her anymore. Nako feels empty.

She didn’t know much people other than her babysitter but then she was gone. Nako is always thinking about her past life but is sad when she cannot remember it. She remembers the adults that she met before she was directly Yashida Nako.

She hates it. So she forces her mother to explain what’s happening in the family. Her mother glares at her but gives in. 

"You shouldn’t be asking for this. Are you sure?" 

Nako nods in response.

Her mother explains everything. She’s not normal at all. The Yashidas are a branch grouping of yakuza and mafia. The reason why she’s never had any communications with other people is because she is the weak link to the Yashidas.

Nako also noted that her family was notoriously known for handguns and daggers in their jobs. Nako wasn’t that dense to notice her mother almost said assassinations. It wasn’t like Nako knew everything but now that she had knew about her family’s background, she began to consider how to actually use her skills to help her family and then develop enough skills to run away if things got out of hand.

Nako smiled at her tiny green handgun. It was 5 years old but she did know how to dissemble and polish each of the gun parts. She still wore a new fedora every year and got her favorite fried foods on her birthday.

She weakly groaned one day, one January 1st. It was time to go celebrate New Years. She got up and greeted the maids who only got to see her a few times a year to prepare her Kimono.

Nako beamed at the maids who slipped her extra candy and manga. She hoped her family didn’t notice the sudden influx of manga. She ate the candy before her family came in to take her to the shrine.

Nako tightly held onto her Uncle’s sleeve, focusing on the hidden scars he received a long time ago. Her mother and father were nowhere to be seen but she expected that.

Skip to 3 years later, as a 13 year old, she had grown weaker yet more powerful. She was officially inducted at a Hibari meeting. Nako inwardly gulped, trying to stay still as everyone fluttered by, chatting each other up.

Her uncle groaned at her queasiness and gave her a blue jade bracelet with gold animal charms and was nowhere to be seen after that. She panicked and smiled weakly at the curiious bystanders. She recognized the light brown eyed lookers with dark formal clothing as the Kusakabes.

A woman with a sharp jaw smiled at her and gave her a book. Nako eagerly read it and tried not to cry. It was about a woman that loved her husband and willingly joined in his place. But then the man mourned the death of his wife. He never married or had any adopted children after that. And everyone in his family died.

Nako sniffled, not noticing a slender figure creep behind her. 

"Oya? Yashida-san, why are you crying?” A light voice chirped. She yelped and gripped the book tightly.

That was the time she met Hibari Masae, a girl with a soft spoken voice but strong morals. Unknowingly to Nako, Hibari Masae instantly adored the mousy girl and kept her under the Hibari claim. 

Nako was probably the most happiest at this point in life. Her parents and uncle looked afar in relief. She had passed the test and the Hibaris and Yashidas would become united once again.

Life for Nako was fulfilling and she entered high school with Masae. She experienced an overall happy school year and stayed with Masae until they both graduated college with top rank grades. Masae moved to Namimori and Nako had stayed in Tokyo, happily working in her secretary job and translating Japanese novels to Chinese and English.

Then she met Iemitsu. For the first time in forever, she felt wary and her blue flames flared actively. She snapped out of her civilian act, avoiding Iemitsu.

But then she fell in love as he noticed her. She knew very well who this was.

The young Lion. And she was screwed, for someone who probably had better aim than Iemitsu in guns.

She could see he was a stale Sky, not that he knew and she went in anyways. Nako remembered Primo mentioning her favorite character back when she was Masami.

That was the only part she remembered. All parts of Masami were dying by now and the only thing they were both connected to were weapons and the Hibaris. Masami had no knowledge of the Yashidas and cut the connections at those two things. Nako didn’t care and smiled at Iemitsu, taking his orders to the boss for a translation.

Sawada Iemitsu had an Italian contract that was about a peace treaty. Nako giggled in feigned ignorance at Iemitsu’s poor excuse of a treaty. She knew Vongola would fail and her family wouldn’t mind if the Hibaris protected her in Namimori.

Nako had changed her name from Yashida Nako to Sawada Nana in a nice quiet Namimori. Namimori was an odd town with many types of characters who were way too oblivious about the gunshots in town. Perks of being protected by Hibaris she assumed. 

Nana was so disgusted by how the teachers of Namimori were and had secretly supported Hibari Kyouya’s reformation of the school. Nana instantly shot down the dangers of mafioso as Masae was weakening. 

Nana stayed by Masae’s side and ruthlessly killed with Masae’s weapons. Nana had at least soothed Masae’s chronic fatigue while Tsuna was still running around, perfect timing for Kyouya and her Tsuna to get to know each other.

Tsuna was embarrassed by Nana’s antics but he had learned to take hand to hand combat from Nana’s white hairs about Namimori’s weakspots and complaints he heard everyday at dinner with Masae-san, Kyouya-kun, and Okaa-san.

Everyday was fun and Tsuna didn’t really care about his deadbeat father. Tsuna thought Iemitsu was dead.

Then Vongola Nono came during summer vacation with Iemitsu in sight. She locked all of her guns in place and it was hidden behind the bookshelves. Just like scooby-doo, Tsuna giggled and went to the kitchen once Nana shooed him away.

Nana had hovered over Tsuna like a shadow and smoothly intercepted her husband from cornering her son. 

“Why don’t you two talk about your job with us? How’s everything?” Silence.

Nana thought so, laughing at her husband’s lack of response. Even a trainee in her family has a backup plan.

This was the great Vongola that Nana heard about? Nana knew she’d have to put herself into the crossfire in order for her Tsuna to go and have a happy life!

She knew Tsuna was meant to be Decimo though. Tsuna warily peeked at Nono, forgetting about the man that was his father and her husband. She hummed happily.

2 days later, they’re gone, much to Tsuna’s relief. Tsuna had voiced that the nice old man would’ve sealed the instinct he had. Nana narrowed her eyes and dragged her son to Italy with her.

It is there that she finds a young girl named Bianchi. Bianchi leads her to her Family and there Nana had made a secure alliance with the Fiorentinos and the Greco.

They’re small in numbers but cunning in executions and expansion of the Family. 

By luck, Nana meets a female Skull. Odd. Masami doesn’t remember that part but she and Skull occasionally get along in mercenary missions.

A year later, Vongola still hasn’t found out about Nana and Tsuna’s disappearance thanks to the Hibari Clan. Kyouya and Masae are pretty set off by everything and Masae recovers and takes out her pretty and heavy fans to slash at mafioso.

The cloud arcobaleno comes back with Nana and Tsuna and is instantly filed as a civilian. She was originally a girl of all trades in the circus and passed those skills onto Tsuna.

Tsuna was slightly less clumsy with his fire and stepped with a cat’s grace by the time all of Vongola’s heirs died out. By the time Reborn ends up in Namimori, Tsuna dodges all attempts made by Reborn even if it’ll kill him.

Nana laughs loudly at Tsuna’s misery but is thankful Tsuna is a lot less like his canonself. Skull is there to cheer on Reborn for once as punishment for Tsuna taking her desserts.

And everything changed slightly.

(this prompt was way too long and it took me multiple hours ow my hands are s w e a t i n g  imdead-) :)

note/ Bianchi may or may not have a crush on Nana instead of Reborn. Reborn finally gets to know the infamous Nana everyone talks about.

Reborn is slightly put off by Skull’s sadism. It’s almost like his and he’s disturbed but shrugs it off because Reborn.

Skull used to be a circus performer and often did gymnastics with giant rings of fire. She’s pretty sure most circus performers she had worked with used to be mafioso because of the bullet scars and their ideas of presents(g u n s). Tsuna admires her the most and Reborn is slightly miffed by that. Adorable as Reborn and has a tiny lisp like Reborn. She has purple hair and light pink eyes.

Tsuna is still short haha but Nana can rock a pair of 3 inch heels but is still shorter than Hibari Masae.

The Hibaris are freaking giants and no one ever grows in the Yashida genes smh.

Tsuna’s pretty average in class. Tsuna proposed to be Dame-Tsuna but Nana has flashbacks of being a No-Good in her old life and refuses, smacking Tsuna.

Hibari Kyouya refuses to acknowledge the Sawadas as carnivores but almost pisses himself when he sees Nana glance at the gun the same way Reborn does and instantly puts a bullet into the nearest mafioso’s brain. 

^it was the first time he learned about Sawada Nana’s life as Yashida Nako. He stays away from her house whenever he patrols Namimori. Masae laughs her ass off tbh.

[youwouldntlietopapa]

The Words That Were Never Spoken (OC Re-Edit) - Chapter 5

If anyone were to quiz Isobel on Papa Secondo’s sermon or, really, even asked the topic, she wouldn’t have an answer. The entire Mass, she is lost in her thoughts. So far away from his booming voice and lessons, it might just as well be taking place on a different planet. Copia takes the seat next to her, as always, and her eyes land on his gloved hands neatly folded in his lap. From that moment she is lost. Chanting the responses to the prayers more on muscle memory than anything. She’s not even sure if she looked up at Papa once. In her mind it’s the towel around Copia’s waist. It’s his back and his shoulders. It’s the overwhelming desire to watch that towel slip to the floor and to drag him back to his bed.

Izzy clears her throat quietly and crosses her legs, trying to stifle the heat building at her core. Copia nudges her side gently and when she looks, he quirks an eyebrow up. Are you okay? His expression says. She nudges him back the same way with a small smile and a wink. I’m all right. His brow relaxes, moustache twitching just so when the corner of his mouth turns up a hint, and he returns his attention to Papa. It’s always like that with him. Something Izzy noticed early on. The way he pays attention and cares. The silent language that they share. When he can ask her a question across a crowded room without a word and hear her answer just as clearly. Her other half in a way she never truly understood the phrase.

She slips her arm through his and shifts a little closer. A gesture she’s sure she’s made a thousand times. But this morning it feels like the only thing keeping her from shattering into a million pieces.

It’s only him moving to stand that shakes her out of her thoughts at the end of Mass and she follows after him. Ducking away from the crowd and into a quiet alcove. Not that he’s particularly stealthy in his red cassock amongst all the black. Still, it’s an old habit, hiding until the rest have gone, and not one she’d be eager to give up.

“You seem distracted today, Isobel. You don’t sleep well last night?” He leans against one of the window sills, the sunlight through the stained glass casting a spray of colours across his cheek.

“Oh no, not at all. Actually, I think that might have been the best sleep I’ve had in ages.” She takes the spot next to him, nudging his side again. “It’s almost like I feel safe with you or something.”

Copia snorts. “I only lull you into a sense of security. You know how we are here, no? You see the protesters? We are all wicked, evil men here, tesoro.”

She can’t help laughing at that. The thought of anything within these walls being at all like what some people think is absurd. “You mean you don’t eat babies and sacrifice virgins, Cardinal?”

He laughs with her. “You find me a virgin here and I will eat my biretta!”

Slowly, the crowd from Mass thins and the two of them are left in the quiet of their private space, comfortable and more relaxed than she’s felt all morning. But the day is waiting and there are duties to perform. Yesterday was one thing, but she can’t avoid work forever. No matter how much she’d give to stay tucked away, chatting and laughing and not worrying for once.

“I will come with you today, to help with your things.” Copia offers and, as much as she’d like to accept, Izzy shakes her head.

“I kept you from your work for nearly the whole day yesterday. I don’t want you getting into trouble on my account.”

“… You’re sure?” He reaches for her hand and it feels like her entire soul is drawn to that point, pooling there under his warm touch.

“I am. Really. There’s a whole Abbey that needs you, Cope. I’m just one Sister. I’ll be all right.”

“You are not just anything. And I know you will be all right. You are strong and smart.” He gives her that look he gets when she runs herself down. That look she knows better than to argue with. “If you need to do this alone, I will leave you to it. But you know where I am if you need me, si?”

“I do. Thank you. I’ll come find you when I’m finished with things up here.” Izzy smirks. “Are you going to survive down there without me?”

Copia looks at you gravely and sighs. “Maybe, tesoro, with the Dark Lord’s blessing, but only barely.”

She chuckles and kisses his cheek before letting him go. “I promise I will bring coffee to revive you.”

“Bless you, Isobel!” He calls, walking off down the hall. “A strange place to find an angel, but here you are all the same.”

The day is, as expected, long, frustrating, tedious, and difficult. By the time Izzy makes it down to the archives, coffee in hand, it’s late in the day. Copia is still sitting at his usual table, surrounded by all the clear signs his day hasn’t been any better. The piles of crumpled paper, his biretta threatening to fall off the edge of the table, and his hair is wild from his hand being buried in it. He doesn’t even notice her walking up, only registering that someone else is there when she reaches over him to set his coffee in front of him and kiss the top of his head.

“Your back is going to make you regret sitting like that later, Cardinal.”

He holds up a finger, taking down half the mug in one go. “This word here,” he points. “Has 14 different translations. None of them make sense. So I do more research. But then this I need to translate. Then I need a scroll to understand that. Then another to understand the first scroll. And that, only in the first two hours.”

Copia slumps back in his chair, grumbling to himself and clutching his coffee like someone might try to snatch it away. Izzy walka around him, leaning on the edge of the table and offering a sympathetic smile.

“Dinner in tonight?”

He smirks and nudges her leg with his knee. “Just for me? Or for you too?”

“For me too. It was a long, shitty day.” Her smile falters a little before she can catch it and he reaches for her hand. “I’m all right. But I’d rather hide in your quarters than face the dining hall, if that’s all right with you.”

“More than all right, Izzy.” His lips brush her knuckles and he sets down his empty mug. Quickly dumping the crumpled papers into the trash. “You see? Finished for today. Just for you.”

She can’t help chuckling. Not missing how quickly he sets aside his own frustrations to make sure she’s taken care of. Something she needs to fix and make a mental note of. He offers his arm and she takes it gratefully, following him back upstairs and away from the drudgery of the day.

………….

Dinner isn’t fancy by any means and Copia does not care. Not even a little. He doesn’t need a fancy dinner. He needs peace and quiet and privacy. Apart from Isobel, of course. She is, as she has been for a long while, part of that privacy. Dinner tastes good and it didn’t take any real thought or effort on either his part or hers, and that is the only criteria that matters. Besides, the wine makes up for any lack of atmosphere not provided by the food. And, having eaten, his mood is significantly improved.

Seeing her in one of his shirts again isn’t hurting either.

He drags himself off the couch to grab something to snack on from his stash, and when he turns back, the wine glasses are refilled and she’s setting a couple of throw pillows on the floor in front of the couch. Copia smirks. “Am I being evicted from my spot, Isobel?”

She smiles in that way he knows too well. Like she’s up to something. “I don’t think I’d put it like that exactly.”

He sets the bowl of chips on the coffee table and raises a brow when she holds out his game controller. Taking it regardless of his confusion. “You want to play?”

“Nope. That’s just for you.” Her smile only gets a little wider. “You took care of me all day yesterday and you’re letting me stay here. Let me, at least, try to return the favour. Even just a little. All you need to do is sit and enjoy your game.”

He sits in the offered seat, setting one cushion on his lap to rest his arms on, and shakes his head. “This is not something to repay. You know this. I want to help. I want to look after you. It is not a debt, tesoro.”

“All the same, I want to do something for you as well. Are you going to keep arguing or are you going to let me be nice to you?”

A teasing flick to the back of his head makes him laugh and throw his hands up in surrender. “I give! I give! Please, Isobel, be nice to this poor old man.”

He can practically hear her rolling your eyes and he braces for the swat he knows is coming. More of a tap than anything, even if he knows how much she actually hates those comments. “Shush with that.”

“This is elder abuse, you know.” Copia giggles, turning on his game.

“I swear, I will ask the kitchen to blend your dinner into mush for the next month, old man.” The threat carries less weight when she laughs while making it.

Whatever joke he planned on making, however, vanishes the second her hands rest on his shoulders. Thumbs working into the knots of stress from a day hunched over dusty old books and scrolls. Massaging muscles that have been threatening all day to be a problem, and feeling them melt under her touch. The game is nearly impossible to focus on with her hands on his neck but, hellfire, he tries. Even as he strains against his sweatpants and the pillow on his lap. Even as he curses at himself silently not to moan or to make a fool of himself.

It’s not the first time she’s done this for him. Of course she’s done it before. She’s always taking care of him. She knows where all the knots are because she’s got them mapped out like everything else about him. The same way he knows her. The same way she’s so much a part of who he is that he can’t quite tell where she stops and he begins. And if that isn’t love, he’s not sure what is. But how to even put that into words? He has several languages at his disposal and he still doesn’t have enough words to articulate that feeling in a way that doesn’t sound like madness.

“Cope, it would be easier to point out the places that aren’t knotted.” Izzy huffs behind him. “I’m going to ask about getting a better chair for the archives.”

“I have a better chair in my office.” He smirks, trying to look normal, tipping his head back to look up at her. “I still manage to hunch.”

She smirks right back. “Fine, then remind me to get you some muscle rub at least.”

Copia turns his attention back to the TV, focusing hard on the game and not on the words muscle or rub. Which is much more difficult with her hands on his neck and shoulders. The wine won’t help either, but he drinks it all the same. Anything to keep his attention outside of himself. Away from the warmth of her touch and the urge to lean into her hands. To turn around and grab her wrists, to kiss each finger and the entire way from her fingertips to her lips. To promise her anything and everything if she’ll just stay. Not for now. Forever. To stay and be with him. To pour out his entire heart and trust that it will just… work out. That it won’t be just fine, that it will be perfect. That she won’t laugh or, worse, look at him with pity and tell him how sorry she is, that it’s not him, it’s her. That he’s such a good friend… Because he is. And so is she. More than a good friend. More than a friend. The anchor that keeps him from spiralling so far out of reach he wouldn’t even begin to know how to get back. The other half of his soul. Even the thought of suggesting that’s not enough makes him feel sick.

“Cope?” Her voice breaks through his thoughts and he jumps a little. “Are you all right?”

“Yes! Yes. Scusami. Long day, I get lost in my thoughts.” Copia forces a chuckle.

The couch squeaks softly and he can feel her leaning forward. Her arms draping down to hug him from behind, her chin on his shoulder. “You know you can talk to me.”

He places his hand on her arm, letting himself sink back into the embrace, even just a little. His temple resting against hers. “Si, I know. I do. There is nothing to talk about really, only work. Things to do, meetings, paperwork, all of it. Sono sempre le solite cazzate, Isobel. I will be alright."

The hug tightens a little. Just enough to notice. Her fingers idly worrying at the collar of his shirt. “You’re sure?”

“I am. Honest. Grazie.” He turns his head enough to kiss her cheek, feeling like a fraud and a liar. “I tell you if I am not, si? Always.”

“Always,” she echoes. Arms loosening and sitting back again. Her nose nuzzling against his cheek and her breath next to his ear, lips brushing so lightly he wonders if he imagined it.

He goes back to his game and, for a long moment, it’s quiet. The worry settling in that it was the wrong answer, that she could feel the lie and he’s made a terrible mistake. That she’ll pull away and keep her hands to herself. Until she reaches past him and sets her empty wine glass next to his on the table. Until she’s settled and her fingers brush along the hairs at the back of his neck sending a shiver down his spine.

“Headache?” The casualness of the question letting him breathe a sigh of relief.

“Not bad. You already help.”

“Do you want me to go get you something for it?”

He tips his head back again and smiles softly. “No. It’s all right. Stay here.”

The kiss on his forehead, he doesn’t have to wonder about. The smile is real too. Copia returns the smile and lets the panic go. Through everything, she’s stayed. Even when he was sure she’d vanish like people always seemed to. But there she was. Here she still is.

Her fingers brush his hair again and his eyes slide half closed. Expecting them to work into his neck again. But they slip up into his hair, seeking out the places his headaches always settle. Massaging over his scalp with delicate precision. Pressing into the places that need to be coaxed into calm. Her nails scratching softly, fingers tugging carefully to relieve a little pressure. Inching over the top of his head while he swallows a moan and tries to keep from drooling on himself. Whatever dark magic She has in those fingers works its way into his soul. Winding around his spine and making his cock throb until it aches, demanding attention. Every pass of her hands through his hair driving him a little closer to madness. When she slips away slowly, it’s all he can do not to whimper, and when he feels her moving to stand, the urge to grab a hold of her just to keep her close is nearly impossible to ignore.

Izzy smiles when you catch his worried look and chuckle softly. “I’m just going to the bathroom, don’t worry. I’ll be right back.”

Copia nods and watches her go. Waiting until the door is closed before finally giving in, reaching under the pillow, and palming himself through his sweats. Clapping a hand over his own mouth to stifle the moan. He’s going to die. That much he’s sure of. He’s going to die right there on the floor, lovesick and hard as a rock and still too much of a coward to say three words.

How much worse could it be? How much worse could anything be than feeling like this? At least there would be an answer, some kind of… release from this. Good or bad. But… if it’s bad… if it’s no…

As soon as he hears the door start to open, Copia snatches his hand out from under the pillow. Trying to look innocent and nonchalant, certain that he’s failing entirely. But if she notices, she doesn’t say a word. Retaking her place on the couch and flopping sideways, lying with her head on the armrest, watching him play. Fingers toying with the hair at the nape of his neck sleepily. While he leans down on the pillow just to find a little resistance, starting to lose the battle to keep his hips still.

“Izzy…?” He breathes a little raggedly. Too far gone to panic.

Her fingertips drift down his neck, stilling just behind his back. A quiet whine escaping him before he can stop it.

“Mhmm…” The response is soft and relaxed. All he can think is how absurd it is that one little sound, her breathy voice humming a melodic confirmation he’s been heard, is enough to make him want to wrap his arms around her and hold her close forever. That one small sound is enough to make his heart ache.

“I want… I need…” Copia huffs, closes his eyes, and tries again. “… I love you. Ti amo, Isobel.”

Nothing.

For a long moment he waits. The silence deepening every second and his stomach churns uncomfortably. Surprise, Copia supposes, is only fair. But this silence is… is worse. Worse than a no. Worse than almost anything. Almost too terrified even to look.

Satanas, please say something….

He can’t stand it any more. Turning to see her, to face the rejection he knows must be coming. Preparing to beg for a response. To confess it all. To do whatever he has to to salvage even a little from the trash fire his entire world has rapidly become.

Turning and looking at her, and finding… She's asleep.

“Cazzo…” Copia closes his eyes again, stuck between crying and laughing. Finally, finally, after how many years, he says the words out loud, finds the courage to say it not just in his thoughts or his dreams or to the space where she had been standing only a few minutes before. Finally he confesses the truth he knows in his soul… and she’s asleep. It’s not her fault. He knows that. It’s his bad timing, a long day, and too much wine. But, Dark One below, there is a part of him that wants to accept this apparent fate, curl up on the floor, and let death take him.

“Sogna cose belle, amore mio, come io ho sognato te.” He whispers, barely a breath. All the need and the urgency that had been plaguing him settles into something far less carnal, much more quiet and still.

Copia climbs to his feet, turning off the tv and ducking to carefully slip his arms under her, lifting her off the couch. The rest can wait. The games, the wine, the food, all of it. It can wait. Izzy needs sleep and he… needs her. But bed will be enough for now. Just to be next to her. Knowing she’s there, safe, with him. It’s enough. It has to be enough.

He sets her carefully onto the bed, pulling the blankets over her. Watching as she rolls onto her side, facing the wall, hugging his pillow. Copia climbs in after, lying the same way. Keeping back just enough to not disturb her. Close enough to feel how warm she is… Close enough. His eyes slide shut and letting the day's exhaustion, and the wine, wash over him.

Drifting off to sleep thinking of her.

________________________________________________________

Sono sempre le solite cazzate - It's always the same bullshit

Cazzo - Fuck

Sogna cose belle, amore mio, come io ho sognato te. - Dream beautiful things, my love, as I dreamed of you.

[gravehags]

you send me - the natalie edit

Pairing: Cardinal Copia x OC (Curator!OC)

Rating: Teen

Tags: terzo being terzo, copia snapping, secondo is a shit head, primo is just trying to play a nice game of uno, introductions

Words: 1,082

Summary: She's never met a Satanic pope before. He sure is something.

a/n: i should have had copia beat terzo's ass lmao

~~~

“Son of a bitch,” Natalie spits, watching a paper from the stack she’s holding drift towards the floor and under the table she’s working at.

With a frustrated noise, she slams the stack on the surface and gets down on her hands and knees to retrieve it. The paper, of course, has landed a couple feet away, causing her to crawl underneath the heavy piece of furniture. Her fingers just about have it when she hears a low chuckle from behind her. It startles her so much that she jerks her head, slamming it into the hard surface above her.

“Fuck!” she hisses, trying her best to clamber off the ground and confront whoever is watching her. When she finally stands, straightening her skirt, her eyes land on a most peculiar figure. He’s slight, wearing a black and white suit. Jet black hair, parted in the center of his head, frames a face covered in paint designed to look like a stylized skull. The paint isn’t odd to her - she has of course seen Cardinal Copia’s paints - but somehow he seems more important than anyone she has met thus far at the abbey.

“You’re staring, bella,” he purrs in a seductive voice, “am I so very nice to look at?”

Jesus. Natalie fumbles over her introduction, sticking out a hand for him to shake. He takes it within both of his own white gloved hands and pulls her closer to him.

“I,” he begins, “am called Terzo Emeritus. You may call me ‘Terzo’ if you like. Or perhaps ‘Papa’, if you’re into that,” he says with an exaggerated wink.

“Huh…? Oh shit you’re him? You’re the Satanic pope? I am so sorry, your…unholiness.”

He looks like he’s trying to stifle a laugh as he continues to squeeze her hands in his.

“No need for titles, bella,” he whispers conspiratorially. “Whatever you call me, I’m all yours.”

Somehow he’s gotten even closer to her, so much so that she can smell the hair product he uses. She’s about to say something awkward when behind Terzo she sees a flash of red.

“Cardinal!” Natalie half-shouts as he approaches, a frown on his face. “Thank God you’re…I mean…we were just…”

“Capisco, Signorina Sinclair. I understand exactly what is happening here. How good of Papa to visit his new employee.”

The look in Copia’s mismatched eyes - funny how they both have those eyes - is positively venomous. Odd. Terzo steps away from Natalie and slaps Copia on the back with surprising force, causing him to jolt forward.

“Cardinale, your timing as always is impeccable,” he croons with a grin toying at his lips. “I am quite impressed with your bellissima curatore you’ve been going on about for weeks now, eh?”

Natalie flushes and looks down at her feet. Copia’s been talking about her? When she looks back up he’s as red as she is, staring daggers at Terzo who has a beatific smile on his face.

“We will have to chat again soon, bella Natalia,” Terzo says in that low voice once more. Copia’s eye twitches.

“Of course, thank you for stopping by Terzo.”

He gives her a lingering smile before turning on his heel and brushing past Copia, who is still standing there looking annoyed.

“Shall we begin?” Natalie says softly, gesturing to the pile of papers on the table. He blinks and the sour expression is gone, looking at her with kind eyes.

“Sì, Signorina Sinclair. Let us get to work.”

—-

“There he is!” Terzo crows from his spot at the round table. Copia walks in, removing his biretta and tossing it on a side table. Secondo has a foul grin on his lips and Primo looks exhausted.

“I was just about to tell them about the new curatore,” he announces, as Copia takes the seat next to him, shoulders tense.

“Well go on,” Secondo says, tapping his cigar on the ashtray in front of him. Terzo makes a dramatic fainting motion and Secondo waggles his eyebrows.

“Beautiful,” Terzo says, breathless. “Paffuta.” He makes a lewd squeezing motion with his hands and Copia’s gloves squeak as he balls his own hands into fists. Primo is watching him quietly from his side of the table but says nothing. “Matura,” Terzo continues with a growl.

Secondo blows a stream of smoke out of his nose and makes a thoughtful noise.

“I’ll have to see her myself. Perhaps she prefers someone older,” he says with a faint sneer. Terzo scoffs and lightly slams his fists on the table.

“You should have seen the way she was looking at me today fratellino,” he begins, “Wide eyes, fluttering long dark lashes and everything. Positively smitten.”

Secondo rolls his eyes. “Maybe she’ll like Primo, eh?” He leans over and nudges the brother in question who is still silently observing Copia. “He can tend her garden.”

The two brothers erupt in raucous laughter. Copia has heard enough.

“Silenzio!” he shouts, banging his hands on the table and rising. “Do not speak of her as if she is some sibling you can fuck and then discard!” 

Primo lets out a deep sigh while Secondo gently sets his cigar in the ashtray. Terzo, however, looks entirely too pleased with himself.

“I knew it,” he whispers, “I knew you were besotted with her!”

Copia opens his mouth to say something, but finds himself at a loss.

“The way you went on and on and on about her for weeks before she even moved in. I knew it!” Secondo chuckles and Primo looks disappointed.

“Terzo,” he begins quietly, “you could have simply asked him instead of riling him up.”

“Eh, this was more fun,” he says, waving a hand dismissively at his brother. Copia is still standing and fidgeting with his hands. He wants to speak up and deny it but finds the lie offensive. Sensing his anxiety, Primo speaks up again.

“Why don’t you bring her to us, Copia? I would very much like to meet her.”

Copia nods, still fidgeting.

“Sì…sì, I will. She is…” he falters for a moment, trying to search for the appropriate word, “Kind. I have not known her long but from what I have seen she is…lovely.”

His face is practically glowing at this point as Terzo cat calls and then is harshly cut short by Primo laying a firm slap to his arm.

“Looking forward to meeting this kind curatore,” Secondo comments, once again picking up his cigar. “Does she like bolognese?”

Huh. He doesn’t know. Copia plans to ask her the next time they meet.

[emeritus-fuckers]

For the Event friends

1. I think I'm more of a Sibling. I'm not really anything special, and while I love my friends, I couldn't do a pack - I need my space

2. Either Primo or Secondo. I love Terzo and Copia, but they both seem more difficult to work with for different reasons - Terzo seems chaotic (in a fun way) and intense, maybe even hard to keep on task, while Copia is so anxious it would make *me* anxious in turn. Primo seems very chill but extremely competent and easy to work with, while Secondo knows exactly what he wants and the best way to get it done (also he's hot, ngl)

3. I'm definitely an ambivert, with more introverted tendencies. I like people, and if I really trust and like you I will talk your ear off - but there's maybe three people who don't get on my nerves after a while. I need time on my own or I'll become overstimulated and short circuit

4. My favorite chore is probably cooking or baking - I love the magic of turning ingredients into something wonderful and delicious. Doing the dishes after though...

5. I like to travel, but mostly day trips or a few days at a time. I need to be able to come back home to decompress, or at least a nice little home base where I feel comfortable.

6. I'm an artist, and I have a BS in psychology and fine art. I studied printmaking and book binding, as well as painting and art therapy. I'm trans and in college I was the president of our Pride org - I even pushed us to attend our first conferences! I was also going to study to be a pastor before I realized I didn't believe in Christianity. And uuuuuuuuuh I like cats???

-from-the-pinnacle

The role in ministry event ended on July 20th

Your role in the Ministry is...Running the art studio under Papa Emeritus II.

Secondo is very interested by the fact you wanted to become a pastor. He suggests further studies you could do in his church if you wanted. He'll support you whatever you choose.

Secondo is your boss and your work is a mixture between being a curator, art teach and sometimes art therapist. But he'll always ask if its something you want to do first.

If you want you can also assist in book binding for new ministry texts.

It's a really flexible role and you have plenty of time to work on your own art.

Secondo loves painting so he'll often drop by just to chat. Or to paint while you work. He tends to then distract you and you end up painting as well.

He's very easy to work for as he will give you clear tasks and then give you space to work on them.

He's very good at leaving you be if he thinks you will be overstimulated.

You also get to go on day trips to find new art for the ministry. You'll also have time to explore the city.

You have a really nice home at the ministry to return to afterwards.

You often bake as well and bring it into work. That is a sure way to get Secondo there for the day.

~

Written by Nyx